#but its the opposite reflected in his own descendant and well..

[goldenguillotines]

ALSO.. incredibly tragic that ketana and nobayo eventually do become moirials sobs into my fucking hands

#Because like. #they mirror eachother. they kinda do if yoh think about it. forced into molds. beinf broken into shape #but nobayo never caved. he suffered the price. Ketana did. He is scared. #Ketana hurt Nobayo dearly. But not in a way that was irreversible. and Nobayo might have been a different person before. #he certainly isnt a malicious vengeful person. #and Ketana cant understand it #but theres also thr looming betrayal of Deadeye and Director overhead. #Like... #Deadeye rlly has no room for anyone. he doesnt trust easily. he especially didnt like director. Knowing of him. he basically #saw this mans entire life in the fleet. #And Navika managed to pull the rug on this guy. #All wirh that stupid smug smirk of his. #Navika is really unapologetic. He knew what he was doing too.. #but its the opposite reflected in his own descendant and well.. #he rlly doesnt care for his own kin anyways for obvious reasons (if u know u knoe) #so its just. extra cherrry on top to see him become so close #anyways i got 2 bed.

[pankowperfection]

For Rudy or Drew, you pick. You and him are best friends. He takes you to all the premiers and parties because he loves you so much and wants you to have the time of your life, but he always ends up taking someone else home afterward. One night, you decide you're sick of waiting for him to finally see you, so you decide to hook up with some random at the party. His own hookup doesn't go well (girl is too sloppy drunk or something) and he goes looking for you to go home. He finds you making out with some guy, becomes enraged and jealous, takes you home, and shows you in the most unholy way who you really belong to.

Tired of Waiting

warnings: smut, 18+, oral (fem receiving), slight choking

Another night, another party at some upscale club in downtown Los Angeles. You'd almost grown tired of this routine, Rudy inviting you to every event, even going as far as buying you outfits to wear. No matter what you did or how hard you tried to get him to see you as more than a friend or the "good time girl", he always ended up leaving with someone else. Tonight would be no different it seemed.

The laser lights bounce off of every reflective surface, almost making it hard to see as you wind your hips to the beat of the song the DJ is playing. As if your body can sense his presence, you turn around and spot the tall blonde man in the corner. Anger simmers in your system when you see a long legged brunette approaching him, quickly pulling him into a kiss while his hands slide to her ass.

You march your way over to the bar, ordering a double shot of tequila and catching the attention of an attractive stranger in the process. His eyes descend over your body, warming your skin from the inside out as his gaze lingers on your cleavage spilling from the top of your dress before sliding lower, taking his time to admire your bare legs.

"Damn sweetheart, you're this beautiful and you love tequila? Where have you been all my life?"

You laugh for the first time that night, enjoying the fact that someone can appreciate you.

"Well thank you. You look pretty hot yourself."

He's almost the opposite of Rudy. Short, brown hair. An intricate sleeve of tattoos working its way from his muscled forearm up until it disappears under his stylish button down shirt. He definitely works out, biceps threatening to rip the material to shreds if he moves the wrong way. His confidence is sexy, you can't quite put your finger on it but something about him screams dangerous and you are loving it. Your heart kicks into overdrive when he grabs your hand and pulls you onto the dance floor.

His hands make a new home on your hips, pulling your back flush against his front as you start to grind against him. His hot breath fans over your neck and tickles your ear, an involuntary shiver shooting through your body at the sensations. Without overthinking it you spin in his arms, placing your hands behind his neck and pulling him into a heated kiss.

If he was surprised he doesn't show it. One hand slides into your hair, angling your head before his tongue pushes into your mouth. The other moves to cup your ass, grabbing a handful before landing a soft spank that makes you gasp. You're so caught up in the moment you don't even notice Rudy emerging from the back hallway, the girl from earlier already forgotten as she was too drunk to even stand up.

He rudely interrupts the moment, clearly pissed about not getting a hookup tonight. "Come on y/n, time to go."

You jump at the sound of his voice, feeling guilty for a second before it disappears. "No thanks Rudy, I think I'll stay."

You give him your back, about to start kissing your new mystery man again before being pulled back by your wrist.

"I said let's go. Don't make me tell you again."

Something in his eyes tells you he isn't kidding. You mutter a quick apology to your date before being dragged out of the club, struggling to keep up with Rudy's long strides in your heels.

The ride home is deathly quiet, the tension between the two of you so thick you can taste it. When he takes a turn that leads to his place rather than yours your anxiety kicks up a notch.

"What are you doing Ru? You know this isn't the way to my apartment."

"Shut up y/n. Don't push me right now."

You've never seen him like this, eyes wild with you weren't sure what. His grip on the steering wheel tight enough to make his knuckles white. As soon as you pull up to his house he's out of the car, slamming the door behind him as you try to catch up.

"What the fuck is your problem today? You take home a different girl every time we go out and the ONE time I find a guy who is interested in me, you ruin it."

The words are barely out of your mouth before you're shoved against the front door that just shut behind you, hands easily pinned above your head with just one of his.

"You want to know what my problem is sweetheart? News flash, it's you. How can you not see that I've been trying to keep myself in control around you since the day we met?"

He cages you in, leaning his forehead against yours until he's so close that each word from his mouth brushes against your lips. The hard lines of his body somehow feel just right pressed against your soft curves, heat settling low in your belly at the feeling of his semi hard cock laying against your stomach.

"Everything about you drives me crazy. Do you know how many times I've had to take care of myself after being around you in a tiny excuse for a bikini or a super short dress? How many nights I've imagined what you taste like? How you sound when you moan? If you want me as badly as I want you?"

Pleasure replaces your initial shock, hot lust swirling through your veins as his words sink in.

"If all that is true, then what are you going to do about it? Hmm?"

You want to tease him, make him wait like he has you but the truth is you are tired of waiting, desperate to see if the rumors are true about how good he is in bed.

"I'm going to show you what you always should have known, you're mine sweetheart."

He doesn't waste anymore time, capturing you in a passionate kiss that you feel all the way to your toes. He moans at the taste of you and you take advantage, plunging your tongue into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss he easily picks you up, wrapping your legs around his torso before carrying you to the couch.

He gets your dress off in record time, hungry eyes taking in every inch of your exposed flesh. Your mouth dries when he pulls off his shirt and pants, leaving him in only his tight boxers with a very large tent in the front.

"Like what you see baby?" he taunts, pulling you back into his embrace before pushing you onto the plush cushions of the couch. The weight of his body on tops of yours feels so good, his sinful mouth making a path from your jaw down your neck, biting and sucking deep bruises into your skin.

Satisfied with his work he moves further south, eagerly licking and nibbling each of your nipples until they stiffen into hard peaks. Each flick of his tongue over your sensitive flesh sends bolts of pleasure straight to your clit, almost like an imaginary wire is connecting the two.

"God Rudy, feels so good."

You feel him smirk against your skin, your fingers winding their way into his hair while he trails kisses down your torso. You hold your breath in anticipation when he gets closer to your aching pussy, a small whine leaving your lips when he starts his torture over again, working his way from your knee up to the inside of your thigh, avoiding where you need him most.

"Such a pretty pussy," he murmurs, finally sliding two fingers through your slit, gathering wetness while he situates himself between your thighs, one leg over each of his shoulders. "Be a good girl for me and let me make you forget all about that guy at the bar."

You don't have time to respond before he's on you, tongue diving deep, teasing around your soaking hole before gliding up and over your clit. He devours you like a starved man, no inch of your sensitive flesh untouched by his skilled tongue. In no time at all you feel your high building, shameless grinding into his face while you tug harshly on his hair.

"That's it sweetheart, take what you need. You taste fucking amazing, want you to soak my face baby."

His dirty words do nothing to help the flames of desire scorching through your system. Two of his thick fingers sink into your wet heat and your back arches off the couch, loud moans echoing off the walls when he curls them just right to stroke your sweet spot.

He doubles his efforts, quickly flicking your sensitive clit up and down with his tongue while his fingers slowly pump in and out. Your orgasm hits you like a train, whole body shaking as you cum with his name spilling from your lips. He laps up every last drop of your release, your thighs trembling from the incredible pleasure before you finally push him away.

Before you can process what's happened he's all the way naked, stroking his huge cock through your wetness while his eyes stay glued to your face.

"Tell me you want this y/n. I need to hear you say it."

Your breath catches in your throat when the tip catches on your entrance, desperation taking over at just how badly you need him inside of you.

"I want you Rudy. Please fuck me."

You barely finish your sentence before he buries himself inside you to the hilt in one, hard thrust. You both are breathing heavy, a sexy groan leaving his lips at how good you feel wrapped around him.

"Shit, I'm never gonna be able to get enough. This pussy was made for me."

All you can do is nod, too drunk on the feeling of him filling you over and over to form a coherent thought. He sets a brutal rhythm, one hand wrapping around your throat while the other grips tightly on your hips, forcing you to remain in place.

Your hands circle his muscular biceps, nails leaving crescent moon indents in his skin. You start to clench around him, a second orgasm building quickly. His lips trail up your neck before melding with yours, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and making you moan.

"Come on baby, cum for me." Sweat glistens on his brow, making him look so irresistible you can't help but imagine licking every inch of his skin. The hand on your throat skates down your body to rub your clit in smooth circles, his other hand coming up to play with your nipples.

The extra stimulation is all you needed. You fall apart with a scream, clenching around him so hard he can't resist, filling you up with his warm release while continuing to give you soft thrusts. He reaches up to push your hair out of your face, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss while still buried inside of you.

"You realize there is no going back from this right? You're mine now y/n, I mean it."

You laugh, pulling his face back down to give him another slow kiss. "Of course you idiot, I've always been yours."

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @faithforgottenlxnd @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @ilovetheavenger143

#obx smut #smut #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader

[takiisieju]

Sunset in Koral

The second part of @spacestephh 's ASK

Thank you for the prompt. I may be very slow with my writing, but you are very welcome to send prompts from this list. Or, well, your own ideas!

Check out my carrd for links to the info about SWARM.

taglist: @roofgeese @onehornedbeast @theelderhazelnut @scentedcandleibex

Writing under cut!

When the sky turns pink and the sun descends into the Green Sea, life in Koral slows down, ready to come to a halt once the night falls.

Avaritie’s shift is long over. For hours now, he’s been patrolling the city streets, looking for a soul begging to be taken away. But this day is lucky. The people he meets are all as honest as it gets, not a single liar, crook or thug in sight. Every now and again such days make him hope that his cleansing of the city is over, that every sinner has been captured and is now in search of atonement. But every now and again, he finds another soul to harvest, another red marble to swallow.

But this day is not one of the latter so Avaritie returns to his communal apartment, to the other guild members. They laugh happily, surprised at the smile adorning his ever-strict features. The water tastes better and the wooden cot feels like a good bed. The crown is taken off his head, and he lies down, ignoring the heavy weight of all the souls in his stomach. The sleep comes to him quickly, and his dreams are pleasant, just this once.

On the opposite side of the city, Royal Deluxe walks Kali Kali home. The tiny woman had finished all of her work before the sun had reached the zenith, and spent the rest of the day with her boyfriend and his other girls.

Kali Kali’s prosthetic leg hits the uneven road in sync with Royal Deluxe’s cane. They walk in comfortable silence, having talked for quite a while today already. Kali Kali holds his hand, happily leaning on him, and Royal Deluxe smiles. For a moment, they both forget their love isn’t real.

Torophya and Neela are both home. Neela had returned first, her house just a few minutes away from the agency. She visits Royal Deluxe’s mother, making sure she’s feeling well. The old lady beckons her, and Neela just can’t resist the sweet herbal scent emanating from the kitchen. She joins the Fortune Teller for a cup of tea, then helps her with the dishes. It reminds her that she’s still alive, and that her life is beautiful. She smiles, staring at the now empty sink.

Torophya has no reason to hurry. Her work for today is done, she has no places or people to visit, and all she wants is to get to her little basement flat. Once there, she warms up the water, slowly and patiently. She feels so tired, but the water calms her down. She pours the flowery salts into the water, humming a centuries-old song, so old its words remember the bombs and the bullets. Torophya knows nothing about that, just singing about a faraway land, erased from the humankind’s memory, of its trees and rivers long turned into coal and deserted valleys. The song is over, the tub is full, and Torophya climbs in, finally relaxing.

Royal Deluxe returns alone, well into the night. He travels to Hynoon, then Mariah, meeting no more than a couple of late walkers like him. A lantern in his hands scares the shadows away, and the moon above provides some extra light as well. When he’s home, his mother is already fast asleep, too tired to wait for him. He covers her with a second blanket, looks over her fondly and returns to his room. The deceitful candlelight makes his reflection flicker, distorting his beautiful features. The mouth on his neck whispers something unintelligible, not a single soul to charm. There is a long list of names with quick portrait doodles near them, all of them highlighted – except the last four.

Swarm returns home even later.

“Had a nice walk?” Renata asks, chopping the vegetables for a simple salad.

“Was viewing the sunset”, Swarm answers, closing the door behind him.

“Did you draw it?”

“Of course”.

Swarm opens his notebook, carefully hand-made from the insanely expensive Big Land paper, holding it up to her. The sheets are all colorful, filled with beautiful drawings. A dozen portraits of Renata. The many sights of Koral, from the main square and the belltower to the many sculptures and ruins of Hynoon. It is a little dirty, with splashes of colored ink turned into funny small doodles.

One of the latest drawings catches her attention.

“Who’s that?” she points to a profile of a beautiful woman, dark-skinned and with the most perfect nose Renata’s ever seen.

“Fatima, from the Greenhouses”, Swarm answers nonchalantly. Renata sighs, a pang of jealousy in her chest. “I was there today. The strawberries should ripen soon.”

“Is that so?”

“I thought you wanted to dry some for the winter”.

“I’ll collect them myself”.

“If you say so…”

Swarm sits down on the straw-filled pillow in the corner, closing his violet eyes, unwilling to leave Renata to eat alone.

“At least he doesn’t wait for Fatima like this”, Renata thinks, hiding a triumphant smile.

The salad is all finished. Swarm takes the bowl to the sink. Renata inspects her plant-filled shelves and nods, bidding Swarm goodbye and leaving for her room.

As she closes her eyes, ready to drift to sleep, hundreds of beetles exit the neighboring window, wings glistening in the moonlight. 

#swarm #takii writes #original story

[locustheologicus]

“Forgetfulness Leads to Indifference”: Reflecting on the Papal visit of Reconciliation in Canada

The place where we are gathered renews within me the deep sense of pain and remorse that I have felt in these past months... Yet it is right to remember, because forgetfulness leads to indifference and, as has been said, “the opposite of love is not hatred, it’s indifference… and the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference” (E. WIESEL).

In July of 2022 Pope Francis went to Canada to meet with the indigenous communities in the Province of Alberta and also the territory of Nunavut. Through Pope Francis’ visit the Church made a penitential pilgrimage to apologize for its involvement in desecrating the indigenous culture and the historical violence it committed to the young native population in their Catholic schools. It appears that this pilgrimage was well received by both the Canadian authorities and the Indigenous leaders. Grand Chief George Arcand Jr. offered this comment after the Pope’s visit.

After meeting with the Pope and hearing his words today - I believe there is a path forward together. There’s a lot of work to be done. Today I believe we begin a new journey. Today, I believe we now start to have to do the work necessary to make things better. And I sit by my fellow Chiefs and Survivors. To build that new road, to create a better place for our people to live.

Pope Francis offered this message to the indigenous communities he visited. In the message he highlights the need to remember the violence done in the past so we can grow from it. In his message in Quebec he goes after the harm of “cancel culture” but the way he defines it is very different from the way it had been defined recently here in the United States. Praising the multiculturalism that Canada embraces Pope Francis expresses his concerns for those who avoid acknowledging the historical violence and atrocities that they and their descendants committed in the past. This, he identifies, as “cancel culture.”

It is a mentality that, presuming to have overcome "the dark pages of history", gives room for the so-called cancel culture, which judges the past only in terms of certain current categories. Thus, a cultural trend is implanted that standardizes or makes everything the same, that does not tolerate differences and focuses only on the present moment, on the needs and rights of individuals, often neglecting the duties towards the weakest and most fragile; the poor, the migrants, the elderly, the sick, the unborn...

Thinking of the way our minority culture attempts to raise their own cultural expressions and historical memory (like the African-American, Latino, Asian and Indigenous communities do here in the States) is what Pope Francis is defending with this remark. This is what he calls “cancel culture.” This is a great contribution he offers because he is redefining it in light of the political misuse that we experience in the US. “Cancel culture” is identified as any attempt to lessen the historical significance of the dominant (white) culture. Any attempts to raise the historical perspective of the minority community is attacked as “critical race theory” and seen as some liberal agenda to belittle the dominant cultural history of the United States. This can be seen in how the 1619 project, for example, is received by pundits on the far right or how some states have passed legislation to limit the discussion of racism and sexism in classrooms. In this context it is the irony of ironies that members of the American right complain about “cancel culture,” when they have been (and continue to be) canceling other cultural narratives all along. 

In this Papal message and with this visit Pope Francis is wanting all minority cultures (notice his appeal to the preferential option for the poor in the quote above) to share their story and to promote reconciliation through the engagement of various communities to a shared narrative. This is the example that Pope Francis hopes to offer through this penitential pilgrimage; this is the lesson he offers us Americans. Let us not be indifferent to the injustice and suffering of those who have been victims of our own historical oppression. Instead may we be open to the stories and perspectives of those who have been marginalized and begin the journey of reconciliation and forgiveness which is at the heart of our Catholic faith.

“If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” - John 8:31-32

NOTE: The above painting by Norman Rockwell is called: “Southern Justice.” It was published in 1965, this was painted in response to the murder of three civil rights workers in Mississippi a year prior.

#youtube #canada #cancel culture #indigenous

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 20

Summary: The big day has arrived…finally, you and Andy say ‘I do’

Warnings: Language, adult themes, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer. I do not consent to my work being translated or posted elsewhere. If you see this fiction on any site other than Tumblr it has been taken without permission.

W/C: 8.5k

A/N: Sorry not sorry…this is so damned long! And thanks to my beta @spectre-posts​ (damned its good to tag her lol!)

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19

You woke up in your bedroom, the morning sunrise warming your face. The big day was here and you couldn't help but feel excited and nervous all at once. Your parents were in the guest room, Penny on the office pullout and Andy, well, Andy was with Jo, in a suite near the college. You felt strangely calm, despite the fact that you knew soon enough chaos was going to descend when the stylist and makeup artist arrived.

You and Andy had chosen your spot on the hiking trail for your small and very intimate ceremony and a huge reception to follow at the hotel in Denver when you first realized you'd fallen for him. Both places meant so much to the both of you that it felt only right to unite there. It was everything the pair of you wanted, jointly picked and agreed on. Penny would be by your side and Jo by his. Your parents, Ron and Giselle, Amber, Mike, Eva and Steve were your witnesses. Jo's wife, Patti and a very special Benoit Blanc finished off your ceremony guest list. Then the party was pretty much a free for all. All your friends, colleagues, extended family. All of whom were in Denver, to be waiting for your arrival in the early evening.

With your ceremony set for three, you had plenty of time to take just to enjoy reflecting on your journey to here.

But, just as you were settling down to maybe nap a little more the door to your room flung open and Penny dived on your bed

"You're getting married today!"

“No shit!” You laughed as Grant raised his head from where he was curled at your feet, no longer a tiny puppy. He yawned and rolled onto his back.

"Mom's making mimosas, Dad's already crying into his coffee."

“What’s he crying for?” You chuckled, scratching Grant behind the ears

Penny rubbed his belly, "actually I don't really know. Something about you finally being happy and in real love."

“And what about you?” You eyed your sister, “when you are gonna bring the mysterious Jake to meet us?”

"Maybe when you guys come this summer," Penny smiled. "I wanted to be here for you this weekend. Not worry about entertaining him."

"Knock-knock!" Your mom appeared, "I've got mimosas!"

"Come join the party!” You laughed, patting your bed.

She beamed, passed off two flutes from her hands and slid in on your opposite side, you sandwiched between her and Penny.

Grant then heard your dad whistling for Bongo so he jumped off the bed in search of food.

"You excited, sweetheart? Ready to become Mrs. Barber?" Your mom winked.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” You smiled, looking at your engagement ring, “I can’t wait.”

"Girls, I'm taking the bastards for a walk, I'll be back!" Your dad hollered up the stairs of your three-story condo.

“Okay Pops!” You yelled back, “watch Grant for running off, he’s hit a bad habit at the moment!”

"So," your mom reached into her robe pocket, "a few things before your day really starts. Your father and I are paying a shit load for your hair and make-up and if it gets ruined, he'll not stop bitching." She handed you a card. Her delicate writing had your name on the envelope.

“What’s this?” You frowned, looking at her.

"Just a little letter your father and I wanted to write to you."

“A letter?” Your frown deepened, “why?”

"Just read it," Penny snorted.

With another look at your mom and sister you gently slid your finger under the top of the envelope and tore it open.

Our Dearest Daughter,

Today is the day you say I do and for the first in a long time, all you've done before no longer matters. Every misstep or mistake, tragedy or horror, happy moment or blissful state is erased today and your new life entirely begins.

We love you and we love Andy, far more than either of us can put into words. We hope the two of you continue to love and respect one another as you have taught each other to and we pray that nothing but bliss and joy continue to follow you on your road ahead.

It is why, along with today, this will help see the two of you into that home of your dreams. The one where you'll not only have a family of your own, but teach them about those who've come before them and how much they meant to you, about the journey and paths that led the two of you to here and your forever happiness.

Congratulations, Our Love.

Love, Mom and Dad

You blinked as you read the note then looked at the check in your hand.

“I…I can’t…Mom, we can’t take this!"

"You can and you will."

"Mom.... We don't need," you tried again.

"Need, schmeed," your mom smiled. "Your father and I can't take it when we go, and we have plenty. We've worked our entire lives to set you and your sister up. Besides, Andy would only let your father pay for the ceremony, so there was plenty from your share left." She joked.

"And I blew all of mine on a house," Penny laughed. While she and Jake were somewhat serious, Penny wanted her own place more than a piece of paper committing herself to one man for the rest of her life and your progressive parents were alright with that.

"Thank you, Mom," you reached over and hugged her, careful not to spill your champagne.

"And we've saved the best for last," Penny winked, pulling her own envelope out from her robe pocket. But this wasn't in her script, no, the word 'Angel' was scrolled in all capitals across the envelope in Andy's distinctive printing.

You inhaled deeply, "I don't know if I can read this right now."

Your mom and Penny exchanged a glance, "we'll leave you to figure that out. Let's go make breakfast, Pen."

"French toast?" Penny offered.

"Sounds fantastic," you nodded.

They left you, still in bed and sipping from your flute. You sighed and scooted your way to the edge of the bed, Andy's letter in your free hand. Barefoot, you padded across the carpet to your balcony and opened the French doors. The mountain spring morning air was cool on your face and you shivered a bit as your skin chilled. But the warmth of the sun on your skin soon brought those shivers down as you inhaled deeply, looking Eastwardly.

You sat on the chaise and opened your letter from your husband to be.

Dear Angel,

There's so much to say and not enough stationary in my office to tell you. Right now, you're in bed, as I finish up work and write you this letter. In two days you become my wife and I honestly think of that moment and become breathless. We've come so far in such a short amount of time.

I think about the first time I kissed you, in the very spot where you'll forever become mine, and I get butterflies, just like I had then. Angel, I was so nervous. Shaking inside and out. But since that moment in the bar, the first time we met, there was just something that made me feel safe and secure enough to be myself again. My true self, someone who I'd nearly forgotten existed. Clever girl.

You couldn’t help the little chuckle at his Jurassic Park joke, one he often quoted to you when you did something smart, said something clever or did something monumentally ridiculous or stupid that he thought was funny.

Your patience is unwavering when dealing with my mood swings when I think about Jake. The way you never ask me to stop talking about him or discussing things that happened with Laurie, it's always shown me how you care about my past when it has moulded me for the future, our future. You trusted me enough beyond recognition to keep you safe, even when I failed to do that to people I've loved in the past.

I am so glad you walked into my life. I'm so glad you and I took our time to get here, to be where we are. And honey, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant I'd get you to live this second life with all over again.

“Oh, Andy.” You whispered, sniffing a little as your eyes misted over. It always hurt you to see that he still thought he had let Jacob and Laurie down, that he had failed them when in your mind nothing could be further from the truth.

I never believed in second chances, I believed in righting the wrong and moving on. And then I met you. And, Angel, you have been the biggest second chance I have ever been blessed with. Not only did you save me, but we saved each other and for that, each sorrowful moment somehow in an odd way seems and feels worth it.

With you, I'll never have to suffer through pain and heartache again. I'll never not know what it's like to feel loved and secure. To feel wanted despite my shortcomings.

I love you, Y/N, more than I could ever truly reflect or say. Thank you for being my angel, thank you for giving me the breath of life.

Love always,

Andrew

With his letter now read, you held the stationary to your chest and sighed. Happy but silent tears dropped from your eyes and you smiled. "Let's get married...." you whispered.

Now beaming, you headed downstairs, just in time to see your dad return with the dogs, a smile plastered on his face when he saw you. "Good morning, how's the bride to be?"

“I’m good!” You grinned at him, “excited… but good.”

"Good, good," he kissed your cheek as Grant and Bongo hurried excitedly around you. "It's early, take your time this morning, relax."

“I am relaxed,” you smiled as you took a seat at the breakfast bar.

"That's my girl! Now, eat up," your mom smirked, placing a fresh plate of French Toast in front of you with berries and whipped cream. You felt famished and thought about the menu on hand and how you and Andy happily tasted each selection, down to even the champagne and wines being served. And you’d done it together, every decision, every choice had been joint,

"Hair and make-up are here around Noon, so give yourself time for a nap. I don't doubt Andy will call you soon either." Your dad offered as he sat next to you, Penny on your other side.

“I don’t know… he’s kinda traditional, I’m expecting zero contact.”

"You think?" Penny wondered.

"Of that, I have no doubt," you giggled, into your mug as you sipped your coffee.

*****

Andy chuckled as Johanna held out the tumbler of scotch for him.

“Starting early, huh?” He took a sip as Johanna dropped into the chair opposite him, both dressed casually as they relaxed to start the day.

"It's your wedding day, of course we are." She smirked.

Andy smiled and then leaned back a little, “any idea when Ron is showing up?”

"He said around 1. He offered for us to golf this morning, I laughed," Jo replied.

Andy laughed, “That’s because Y/N’s told him to try and get me to pick it up properly instead of once every so often, but I think she just feels bad as she’s got so many damned hobbies.”

"It keeps her busy when you're stuffed away in your office," Jo laughed. "I have no doubt that once you two have children, she'll have another hobby."

Andy chuckled, “and then she really will want me out of the house.”

"Oh, I somehow think you're wrong there," Jo smirked. Her wife, Annie, popped in to tell them room service was on the way up with breakfast and that she was going for a walk.

“Feel free to join her, Jo.” Andy smiled, “I’m gonna take a quick swim after breakfast.”

“I did enough walking yesterday when we got here,” Jo scoffed, “I’ll take a bath whilst you swim.”

Andy chuckled, "fair enough."

"I'm proud of you, Andy. You've really healed, changed. It shows. They'd be proud of you too.:

Andy smiled, “I like to think so.”

A knock interrupted their conversation and Jo answered, allowing the cart with breakfast to be wheeled in. Andy signed the check, handed a tip over and then closed the door as Jo started pouring the coffee.

She then grinned and pulled two beers from a six bucket on the trolley. Andy hesitated before he snorted, “who am I kidding, I’m not swimming am I?”

"Nope," Jo laughed, handing him one. “That reminds me,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box, along with an envelope. “I was asked to give you this.”

With a smile, Andy reached for the envelope and opened it to find a short, handwritten note from you.

Counsellor,

Just a little something to make you smile, and a reminder that you make my heart ‘saur’.

Geddit?

I love you so much, Andy, I can’t wait to be Mrs Barber!

Yours always, Angel xxx

With a chuckle at your awful pun, he then took the box with a thanks from Joanna and opened it. He blinked, and then burst out laughing as he plucked one of the silver T-rex shaped cufflinks from the box.

Joanna arched a brow as he shook his head, and looked at her. “It’s an in joke…”

“In that you’re a fossil, yeah, I get it.” Jo snorted, as Andy turned the cufflinks round in his hand, examining the small diamond which served as an eye in each one. “She explained when she asked me to collect them from Ore.”

“These came from Ore?” Andy looked at Jo, his brow raising a little at the mention of the independent jewellers which was based back in Boston.

“Yup, she sent them a design she saw on the internet, but wanted them in platinum not silver. And with a little extra sparkle in the eyes, just like her Counsellor.”

Andy took a deep breath, before a huge grin spread across his face as he looked at Jo, giving her a bashful little shrug to match the pink tinge his cheeks had suddenly been flushed with.

He’d nothing else to say

*****

Time passed a little faster than you'd thought it would. After breakfast, you napped for maybe an hour before Penny woke you to shower and get ready as the hair and make-up team were on their way. When they were through, you looked as picture perfect as you had during your trial runs and consultations. Penny and your mom looked stunning too, beautifully painted and styled as your maid of honor and mother of the bride should have been.

Your dad made his way back in after having dropped the dogs off at their sitter for the next twenty-four hours and smiled softly as he saw the three of you. “My girls.” He beamed, before he winked at your mom. “You look beautiful, Darlin’.”

“Awwwww!” Penny's hand flew to her heart, “Daddy, you’re so cute.”

"Thank you, honey," your mom kissed him sweetly. "Now, go change. Penny and I are going to help Y/N into her dress and the car service should be here shortly. Your dad gave a quick salute before he turned from the room and headed up the stairs, whistling a little as he went. "Smart ass."

“Don’t worry, he’ll soon be lost for words and sobbing when he sees Y/N all ready,” Penny giggled, “and then you’re gonna have to wait with him whilst we go ahead and the car comes back for you.”

You snorted, “got that covered, there’s a bottle of scotch Andy left for him in the cupboard which I’ll be cracking open.”

"I like his style," Penny smirked.

She and your mom helped you into your dress and adjusted your hair so it sat perfectly once again. And then Penny helped you into your shoes as your mom watched. When Penny stood, your mom gasped lightly, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh Y/N," Penny whispered. "You look......"

You beamed at her, not quite sure what to say. Your dress was everything you’d dreamed of and had been prevented from the choice of last time.

"He's not gonna know what to do with himself," your dad said from the doorway. "I sure don't."

Penny heard a knock behind your father's words, "Okay, that's the driver, which means Andy's waiting for his bride. He's gonna take Mom and I, while the other service is getting the ceremony guests in the stretch. I have your bags downstairs ready to go, is there anything you want to toss in now?"

You shook your head, "oh wait," you stopped, "yes, that bag on the counter in the bathroom."

Penny nodded and sashayed in her own dress to grab your requested bag and headed downstairs.

"I love you, I'll see you there," your mom kissed your cheek with her own. She kissed his lips and gave him a moment with you.

"Oh, my sweet girl, you look so beautiful," your dad tearfully smiled. "Everything feels so right this time. The past.... it's gone, just that."

“I know, I know.” You smiled, sniffing a little, “I can’t explain it, dad, other than this is it for me. This time I feel it too.”

"Well shit, I hope so, I've gone broke now," he joked. That was your dad, always turning his emotions into a joke. You got it from him. "Which reminds me," he pulled a small note card and box from his suit jacket, "I was asked to give you this."

Your delicately manicured hands held the note card and what was obviously a ring box. You slipped the note open and read again what Andy's printing had to say.

You’ll soon have two on your left, so here’s one for your right. For our past that got us here, the present as the truth we live and the future that we have together. Xx A

You smiled softly as you gently pulled the delicate paper off the box and gasped as you saw the infamous Cartier logo on the outside. “Oh, BB.”

Opening the lid, you sputtered at the trinity ring inside. One rose gold, one yellow gold and one white gold, which was encrusted with diamonds, all interlinked together. The symbolism to your life was striking and you knew exactly why Andy had chosen the piece.

Your dad gave a low whistle, “he’s a smooth bastard I’ll give him that.”

You laughed, slipping the ring onto your right ring finger, "but he's my smooth bastard."

“Of that I have no doubt.” Your dad smiled. “I errr, I also have a little something for you too.”

"Daddy...."

“Yeah?”

"You've done enough, more than I deserve."

“Hush, this is just a little something…” he smiled as he pulled a slightly longer box out of his other jacket pocket.

You took it from him and opened it, smiling at the elegant diamond necklace inside. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much…”

"May I?" He offered to put it on you.

“Please…”

He clasped the delicate chain around your neck and smiled softly at you as you peered up at him. Then he kissed your forehead, "now, let's have a drink before we go, huh? Calm our nerves."

"I'm not nervous, Dad, not even a little." You smirked as you hooked your arm around his elbow.

“Well I am, I gotta give a speech.” He chuckled as he guided you carefully down your stairs.

You smirked and walked into the kitchen, reaching up to the bar. “Andy left you this,” you smirked as you pulled down the bottle of your dad's favourite scotch.

"I knew I loved that man," he snorted.

You poured him a healthy measure and a smaller one for you before you passed the glass over. "Cheers, Dad," you held your glass up, "thank you for everything. For all the things I wanted to say the first time, to everything I can't find the words to say now. I wouldn't be here without you or Mom."

Your dad smiled, and took a deep breath, “I’m so proud of you, we both are.”

You clinked glasses with his and sipped the amber coloured liquid, giving a little smack of your lips as it was great stuff.

It was a peaceful time with your dad, sharing a memory or two before the driver came for you. With nothing to be done but take you to the ceremony, you felt the butterflies of excitement consume you. Your dad held your flowers as you held your dress while walking to the car. You slid in first and adjusted yourself so you didn't wrinkle before he handed you your flowers and slid in himself.

“Can I joke about rolling in style, as this is a Rolls?”

“No.” You snorted looking at your dad,

"Damn it."

It took what felt like an agonizing twenty minutes to drive across town and towards the spot where you'd have to park to walk to your ceremony spot. You and Andy wanted to skip a first look and fall right into the ceremony, with pictures to be taken after while your ceremony guests enjoyed a small cocktail reception prior to the hour drive into Denver where your many other guests were awaiting a cocktail reception of their own.

"You ready?" Your dad asked as you were golf carted to where you were about to walk to the love of your life.

“Never been so ready for anything in my entire life,” you looked at him, smiling. And it was true.

******

When Andy saw your mom and sister arrive, a huge smile crossed his face as he excused himself from Ron and headed over.

“How is she?” He asked after he greeted your mom and Penny with a kiss to the cheek.

"Excited!" Penny grinned.

"And beautiful." Your mom added. "You look handsome, Andy."

"And both of you look stunning" Andy complimented. "Not much longer now, huh?"

"Nope," your mom smirked. "Nice cufflinks." She giggled.

"I gotta say, they were a pretty good surprise," Andy chuckled.

Penny eyed him shrewdly before she sighed, “okay, I don’t get it. You two are like the most chilled out bride and groom ever. Why ain’t either of you the least bit nervous?”

"I don't know," Andy laughed. "But I'll take it."

Andy led the way for your mom and sister to their seats. You had both wanted something casual, not structured and on a time table. There wasn't a formal way to walk down the aisle, only four people doing so. Penny and Jo, you and your dad. Andy wanted it that way and you didn't care to make a fuss. It was what felt right when he'd suggested it.

And as he showed your mom to her seat, others started taking theirs. Amber and Mike sat with Eva and Steve while Ron and Giselle sat near Patti and a happily grinning Beniot Blanc which left one for your father and an empty one he'd just now taken note of.  His eyes peered at the small inscribed board next to a picture of Jacob and a lit candle among some fresh greens.

'For those who couldn't be here today, a seat for their souls.'

“Andy, you okay?” Jo looked at him as he swallowed, the little memorial to Jacob temporarily sideswiping him.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "yeah, I had no idea she did this..." he nodded to the chair.

“Ah,” Jo smiled, laying her hand on his arm, “she asked me what I thought, I told her it was a lovely idea.”

"Thank you, Jo," he sniffed. Then gave a twist of his head to pull himself together.

"Andy," your planner caught his attention, "she's here. The car just pulled in. We're going to start real soon."

“Okay, thanks.” He took a deep breath and then looked at Jo as she smiled. “See you in a few,” she winked, before she grabbed Penny’s attention and the two of them headed off to greet you.

*****

The Rolls Royce stopped at the walkway you and Andy had hiked many times before. A four person golf cart waited to escort you most of the distance to where you were about to walk to Andy, to marry Andy, all at the spot that had changed your life, your lives.

Penny and Jo waited at the aisle's start for you and your dad. Penny grinned from ear to ear as you caught her attention, pointing your way so Jo could see. The cart stopped and your dad helped you off, all shielded away from Andy's eyes with a slight bend in the pathway. You couldn’t help the smile that was stuck to your face as Penny straightened out your dress as your dad greeted Jo with a hug before she turned to you.

“He’s a lucky man, and you’re a lucky woman.” She said quietly as she kissed your cheek. “Look after him, and treat him well.”

“I know, and you have my word.” You looked at her and she smiled, squeezing your hand. “For the record, I told him the same about you.” She winked.

There was nothing more to be said, nothing needed to be. It was time.

Andy gazed on as the soft music played, giving Penny and Jo their cue to head down towards him. His stomach fluttered, his heart raced but oddly, he was still so calm. More eager than anything. Your sister popped him a wink and he smirked as Jo took her place at his side, Penny at hers. And then when your guests stood, not a sound in the world could be heard as his blue eyes focused on you.

His breath caught in his chest as he could do nothing but stare. You looked stunning, even more than usual, as you walked slowly beside your dad, your face fixed in a look of pure happiness. Your eyes were locked on his, crinkled in the corners like they always did when you smiled genuinely. And then he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

He reached up to quickly dab it away with the back of his finger, as a click to his right told him the photographer hadn’t missed a beat. But he didn’t care. He took a shuddering breath as you stopped beside him and turned to your dad who kissed your cheek. You handed your flowers to Penny before you spun towards him and reached up, your thumb swiping under his eye as a second tear spilled from his lids. “Hi,” you whispered, your own eyes shining.

"Hi," he whispered back, not trusting his voice.

From that moment, the ceremony was quick, nearly over as you were asked to now recite your vows to one another. At first, Andy wasn't sure he had any more to say after he'd written you his letter to open that morning, but in the time he had of peace and mindfulness, he penned his vows.

“Angel, in the last few years, before I met you, I was existing, not living. My days had little meaning, no purpose. My time was simply measured by the rising and setting of the sun. But, life finds a way, and I found you.” He paused as you chuckled at the reference, both your hands held in his. “Honey, in your eyes, I see the stars of the universe. In your words, I hear the wisdom of your beautiful heart. And, I can’t wait to grow old with you - well, older,” he winked as you sputtered, sniffing a little, “but I don’t mean ordinary old, but old old. Together, we’ll hold up traffic by driving way below the speed limit. We'll eat dinner at 4:30 just to get the early bird special. We'll yell at kids to get off our lawn and turn up the volume on the TV until the neighbors complain. We'll rub each other with medicated ointment and complain about kids these days. And every moment will be a joy, because I'll share it with you. I love you, now and forever Y/N.”

He smiled at you as your lip wobbled and your eyes flooded. He brought your hands to his lips and whispered, "it's okay, take your time, we've got all night."

You steadied yourself, took a deep breath and licked your lips. "Andy, I picked a dot on a map to start my life over. Little did I ever possibly imagine that that dot would lead me to you." You swallowed. "I was beaten, broke down and entirely shattered when I moved to Boulder. And then, I met you.’ You sniffed and took in a ragged breath then cleared your throat, “as I stand here, looking at you, how lucky I am to spend the rest of my life with this beautiful and strong person I know truly, that life found a way," you spluttered as the same line from his own vows had unbeknownst to either of you landed in yours, and Andy chuckled a little, shaking his head as he flashed you a wink.

“I promise to always put my cold feet on you in bed at night.”

Then Andy laughed properly as did the rest of your guests and you took a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve your planned change of tone provided. “I promise to laugh at all your really bad jokes, even though I've heard them a million times. I promise to assemble IKEA furniture with you without fighting…well, try to anyway. I promise to always be your clever girl, but most of all I promise I’ll always be there to listen, not judge. To love you without question, for the rest of my life, and I vow to always guide you home."

Andy sniffed a little, before he winked at you as your vows ended, his entire being itching to seal your marriage with a kiss. But, frustratingly to him, there were the formal and legal declarations still to be made. Thankfully, they didn’t take long. And as you both, in turn, received your rings, Andy beamed as you looked expectantly to the officiant. “Andy and Y/N you have made your legal declarations in the presence of witnesses and loved ones. By the power vested in me by the state of Colorado, it is my great pleasure to announce you man and wife. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Barber. Andy, you may now kiss your bride.”

Andy wasted zero time in cupping your face and pulling you in for a deep and searing kiss.

Your hands flattened on his chest as his tongue gently rolled with yours, the applause and cheers of your friends ringing in your ears.

Grins were plastered on both your faces as you pulled away from each other, two literal shit eating grins were all you could see and feel as you were now happily united.

Andy bumped his nose against yours, “Mrs Barber…”

"Mr Barber," you giggled at the sound of your new name.

*****

The drive in the Rolls to your party venue went by in a flurry of sips of fizz, kisses long and slow, short but deep. Teasing glances and hushed whispers made the hour pass quickly and before either of you knew it, you were pulling up to the hotel where your party was held and hosted every one of your guests for the remainder of the night.

You made the typical grand entrance, your guests applauding as Andy led you, hand in hand, through the decorated function room to the top table, the only one which had place settings identified for the pair of you, Jo, your parents and Penny. There was no sit down meal, instead drinks were served and the buffet was opened, your guests helping themselves once you all had, settling in groups around the tables. The two of you couldn't peel your eyes away from one another long enough as the time ticked on.

Eventually, it was time for cake and the best part of it all was that it wasn't just any wedding cake, it was Patti's cheesecake because your special day was not to be had without that woman involved as just a guest. In fact, she was part of the parcel to the fact that you and Andy had so many first dates. Once that was eaten, it was time for the toasts.

With no particular order set, your dad went first, and suitably embarrassed the shit out of you by not only telling your guests about many of your childhood escapades, but also about the time he and your mom had heard you and Andy having sex in your childhood bedroom. Neither of you'd been so mortified in your lives and most telling was the beet red look on Andy's face as he tried to laugh off the embarrassment. Ron, however, took the attention off the pair of you as he fell off his chair with a thud he was laughing that much.

"Oh, thank fahk," Andy loudly laughed. "I'm taking back that scotch," he hollered to your dad.

“Anyway, now that I’ve embarrassed them, onto the serious stuff for a moment,” your dad winked. “Andy, from the moment we met you, both Y/M/N and I liked you. There was something about you we couldn’t help but warm to, and when Y/N told us the pair of you were dating, well we couldn’t be happier. You’re a good man, and I can hand on heart say I wasn’t in the slightest bit upset to hand her over to you today, on the contrary, I was thrilled. Thrilled that she’s found the right person, the person she deserves, to spend the rest of her life with. I would say welcome to the family but you’ve been part of that for ages now so instead I’ll say thank you. Thank you for giving her a new lease of life, and for…” he took a deep breath, sniffing as tears filled his eyes, “…and for giving me and her mom peace of mind enough to stop worrying about her. So, everyone, please raise your glasses. To Andy and Y/N.”

As your dad sat down, you leaned to your left to kiss his cheek and he smiled, cupping your face. Jo went next, telling tales of a young and ambitious junior lawyer she first met almost twenty years ago. She entertained with a short tale about how Andy annoyed her, yet gained her respect in equal measures, before she congratulated Ron on making an exceptional defense attorney out of him, something she had tried and failed to coax him into on many occasions. She rounded off by saying how proud she was to be counted as his close friend, and how she wished you both every happiness in the world, because you both deserved it.

At that point, your eyes flashed to Benoit Blanc who raised his glass in your direction, giving you a nod and a smile. And then, it was Andy’s turn.

He told the tale of how you had met, interjecting a little joke here and there, before he recounted the moment he first kissed you and hit your nose with the peak of his cap. That drew laughs from the room, and he sniggered before he sighed.

“Since then, I’ve just been a total sucker. I mean, you can basically get me to do whatever you want, even let that spotty little, four-legged bastard we have at home sleep on the bed.”

You laughed and grinned, popping a shoulder up to tell him and everyone watching you both that Andy was right. Then you stood and joined him as he thanked everyone for coming and that you both hoped that each of your guests enjoyed the party.

As more applause filled the room, Andy looked down at you with a soft smile, "I love you," he said above the roaring sound.

"I love you," you replied and pulled him down for a kiss, scratching at his beard a little.

He let out a soft moan against your lips, which was drowned out by the loud cheers and whistles. The opening notes to your first dance began and you took the cue to take to the dance floor. Andy gently took you in a close contact hold, swaying you softly to the crooning of Michael Buble’s Home.

You could feel the vibrations in his chest where your cheek lay as he hummed the song to you, the two of you moving around the floor in a small circle. His one hand rested at the small of your back while the other wound your arm and hand around his as it rested next to your face against his chest. Then as the final chords played, you gazed up at him so lovingly that the world around you blurred and again it was just the two of you. There were no words spoken, neither of you could think of anything to say. Instead, he simply leaned down and kissed you again, his nose brushing yours as he pulled away, positively beaming with happiness.

All too soon, your day was at an end. And, despite your wishes that you could carry on partying the night away with your family and friends, it was time to bid them goodbye. Your mom and dad promised to make sure Grant was okay as they house sat for the next week whilst you two enjoyed your honeymoon, a return trip to Hawaii. You said goodbye to your parents, your guests, your sister and Jo as the two of you were ushered up to the elevator banks where you were to spend the night in your honeymoon suite.

As the elevator door shut, Andy let out a loud sigh and turned to look down at you.

“Was it everything you wanted?” He asked gently, his eyes shining.

"Andy it was so much more," you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Good, because you deserve the world,” his voice was soft as he pressed his lips to yours. You smiled against his kiss, "and I want to give it to you." He added.

“You have, you are my world. And Grant.” You added.

Andy snorted as he kept kissing you.

“You love him, stop denying you.” You giggled, the kisses still continuing,

The lift stopped and he quickly hauled you up off your feet, a loud laugh emitting from your throat.

“Now, Mrs Barber…” he fished in his pocket for the room key, stopping by the door to the honeymoon suite, “I do believe you promised me something in the car on the way over…”

You played a little dumb, but winked as you brought a fingertip to your chin, "is that in reference to you being so handsome, I could eat you? Is that what you've been thinking about all night?"

“No,” he chuckled as he pushed the door open, “mainly how unbelievably happy I am we’ve finally done it.” He kicked the door shut before he set you on your feet. “I love you. I love you so much, Mr. Barber."

His lips met yours, this time the kiss slightly deeper as he backed you into the main part of the suite, arms holding you close. His large hands cupped your face as he guided you, your own hands running up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing away his suit coat. Andy took the hint and let go of you only to hastily slip from his jacket and allow it to fall to the carpet in a soft thud. Your finger fumbled with the belt to his slacks, first pulling his dress shirt free, then undoing the buckle, it's tell-tale clink alerting you it'd been undone as it bounced against the top of your hands. You fumbled with the slide and zip a moment before getting those loose and your one hand dipped into the waistband of Andy's boxer briefs while the other held his hip.

He grunted a little as you wrapped your palm around him, forehead pressing to yours as his chest heaved with expectation and excitement.

"Baby..." he grunted, "let me..."

"Shut up," you hissed playfully as you sank to your knees in your dress.

Andy looked down at you as you freed him from his dress slacks, your eyes locking onto his as your hand gripped him at the base of his shaft.

"Fahk," he moaned as your painted pout enclosed over his head. His right hand curled round the back of your head, gently as always. He never forced or directed you, he merely liked to hold you as you set the pace. His left hand cupped your face and you felt the cool of his wedding ring against your skin. And it made you groan.

"Shit," he cursed at the vibrations your moan sent through his cock. "That's good, Angel."

Whatever it was, be it the fact you were now married, you had no idea, but something about this felt different. You’d blown Andy before, more times than you cared to remember, and occasionally once in a very risky place or two. But now, you were positively greedy for him. Your hands wound around his hips as you took handfuls of his ass in the palms of your hands, simply sending him all the way down your throat to where you could nearly close off your airway all the while your tongue massaging the underside of his shaft, pressing into the vein that ran his length. You felt Andy squeeze at your hair unintentionally, as if he were grounding himself and it only spurred you on to bob faster.

“Angel, honey, fahk…” his voice trailed off into a whimper as his head tipped back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

You whimpered yourself at the state he was in. You could feel his thighs shaking and his stamina wavering.

“Honey, I’m not gonna… shit… Angel, I can’t…”

You didn't stop as you wanted him good and gone. You hollowed your cheeks and took him all the way to the back of your throat once, twice, three times more and with a broken groan of your name he came, his hands tightening in your hair. You felt that thick spend coating the inside of your throat and you swallowed it all down until he'd spent it all. Slowly, as to not get sloppy, you slipped away from him, standing and wiping the corners of your mouth with your thumb.

He looked at you, his cheeks flushed as he took your face in his hands. “Did I…” he swallowed, catching his breath, “did I hurt you, your hair?”

You shook your head, "I liked it."

“Jesus…” his chest still heaved as his eyes closed again for a second, before he chuckled a little and looked back down at you, “see what you do to me?”

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir." You smirked.

“Liar,” he muttered, dipping his head to meet yours.

"Maybe a little."

He smirked as his lips met yours, hand splaying against the lower part of your back. "Your turn, Mrs Barber.”

You turned slowly, taking the time to sort your hair. With hooded eyes, you looked behind you, "little help, Counselor."

It was as if his throat ran dry, the only thing Andy could do was reach out for the closure to your dress and undo it, the material falling loosely around your body, his lips against your shoulders.

His hands gently came to rest on your hips, his kiss moving up to that spot on your jaw before he stepped back. “Baby, give me a twirl, I wanna see you.”

You thought nothing of a triggering past memory as your husband asked you to display the beautiful set you'd worn under your wedding dress for him. You slowly turned on the ball of your still heeled feet, modeling for him.

“So fahkin beautiful,” he whispered as he guided you round completely, one hand splaying on your belly as he pulled you to him so your back was pressed to his still clothed chest. “Andy?” You whispered as his lips kissed that spot behind your ear,

"Angel..."

“Take your shirt off, please. Wanna feel you.”

"Absolutely," he nipped at your neck.

You missed his warmth temporarily as he moved, and you glanced over your shoulder, watching as his fingers first undid his cufflinks. “I love these, by the way,” he chuckled, dropping them onto the dresser. He was then quick to get his dress shirt off as you watched him from over your shoulder. His slacks and boxer briefs followed as he pulled you back against him, his naked body now pressed into yours. His hands slid up your body, and with an easy movement he undid the clasp on your bra, kissing each shoulder in turn as he tossed it to one side. Those same hands cupped your breasts and filled his palms with your globes, his thumbs tweaking your nipples as he massaged your body.

You arched back into him, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your head fell against his shoulder.

"Imma make you feel so good, honey," Andy whispered into your ear as his right hand curved along your rib cage, over your belly and dipped into your panties.

“You always do,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers slowly parted your folds.

"So wet, Angel," he hummed and pressed a thumb against your clit while his fingers sought refuge in your heat. Those bearded lips continued to caress your jawline and neck, those soft bristles tickling your skin as his fingers buried inside you curled against your walls. His thumb slowly swirled around your nub, a pace that was delicious torture.

Your left hand came up over his neck and cupped his face, nails raking through his beard before carrying on to the back of his neck and fisted his locks. Andy gave a gutteral grunt and asked you to do it again.

You did and this time your rake of his beard came with a warning.

"Angel," his tone moved over you like warm honey.

"I want it." You replied sharply as he hit your spot inside your walls. "I need it." You added. His teeth nipped the crook of your shoulder as the hand in your panties sped up, the one cupping your breast became harder. "I gotta.....oh shit, Andy," you whimpered and whined.

"Thassma girl," he drawled heavily in his Boston accent.

You shook in his arms, a soft cry tumbling from your lips as you came. You rode out that orgasm while barely standing, absolute putty in Andy's arms. He was hard against your backside and while you were in the white hot throws of cumming, you wanted nothing more than to get stuffed and railed by the man.

"On the bed," you gasped. "I wanna ride you."

He chuckled, his lips softly kissing between your shoulder blades, “as you wish…” He moved and dropped onto the bed, shuffling back so his head lay in the pillows, cock in his hand. You kicked off your shoes, shimmied out of your panties and walked round, all the time watching his eyes as they roamed up and down your body.

You took one knee at a time to the mattress, crawling up his legs, pressing kisses into his thick thighs as you went, licking up that fisted cock before settling your hips and opening above his hips and length. His hands settled at your waist as you slowly sank down on him, savoring the feel as he filled you.

Your head tilted back as you did so, the delight of the stretch satisfying. One of Andy's hands remained at your waist while the other moved over your belly and up your sternum and around to your neck, uprighting you so your eyes bore into his.

"Take what you need, baby," he moaned.

“I got what I need right here,” you sighed, rotating your hips.

"Ah fahk," he bit his lip. "That's it honey, ride that cock so good."

You used your thighs to move up and down his shaft, rotating and grinding as you went. You tilted all the way forward, your breasts kissing his chest as your lips covered his. Your one hand balanced yourself on his chest while the other cupped his cheek. You swiveled your hips on top of his.

“Oh, baby…” his lips whispered against yours, “baby, baby…”

"Yeah," you whimpered.

Without warning he sat up, hands splaying on your back as he held you to him. You groaned as the change of angle allowed him to drive even deeper. Your breasts brushed his chest, nipples delightfully rubbing against his coarse hair as his lips hungrily devoured yours. His hips pumped upwards as yours continued to rotate. With each thrust you climbed higher and higher, total bliss consuming you as your husband pushed you further towards your limit.

Your head lolled back, eyes closing and Andy’s lips kissed the hollow of your throat, sloppily mapping up to your chin. "That's it, right there," you moaned, "fuck, Andy," you were so close and you tilted your head back up. Your hands raked over his beard, scratching and scratching as you bent to his ear. "Give me a baby, give it to me, Andy."

“Jesus, fahk…” he grunted, his legs shaking a little. The mere mention of a baby had him ready to blow, and combined with the feel of your nails in his whiskers was making it impossible to fight. "Cum, Angel, cum for me, please, honey."

“So close, Andy, so close…” you moaned and then gasped as his head dipped, tongue swirling at your nipple "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fahk," your own Boston drawl hit and you were done.

Your entire being exploded on this orgasm, like fireworks were flickering off of each nerve your body had. Your sweat slicked skin ran along Andy's as you rode him, furthering your wave. Your heat wept as you gave him every drop of you, your fingers curled into his beard as you came with every fiber of your being, a howl of his name poured from your lips.

You didn’t feel Andy as he stuttered below you, coming with a guttural grunt, nor did you register him falling backwards and pulling you with him.   It was the soft brush of his lips over your forehead that broke through your haze, and that soft chuckle you knew and adored so much. “You okay?”

"Great." You panted against his face.

He smiled, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back as you lay sprawled on top of him,

"That was incredible," you murmured into his neck.

“Yeah…” he let out a deep breath, his face nuzzling at your hair, “yeah it was, but you know what the best thing is?”

"Hmmm?" You lazily hummed.

“We got forever, Angel.”

"Yeah, yeah we do."

His right hand found your left and he brought it up to his lips, kissing just above the place your rings sat. “I love you, Mrs Barber.”

"I love you, Mr Barber."

***** Chapter 21

#consciousness of guilt #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #Defending Jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #Chris Evans character

[the-original-skipps]

Omggg i really barely saw some mikey headcanons/scenarios here like i'm gonna cry 😭✨,,,, anyways is it okay if i request some scenario where reader is being bullied and harrassed but she don't tell mikey about it cause she don't want mikey to worry about her but then one day mikey saw it and he was furious?? like he saw reader's trembling body and she got hickeys made by her bullies? and everything is up to you just make angst and fluff ,,,, sorry it's longg 😭

Spoken Threats.

Warnings ⚠️: Bullying, violence, mentions of blood, sexual assault.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: Oh I've been waiting to write this and don't be sorry your request can be as long as you want. I've been thinking a couple days about this so here it goes! sorry for the grammar and spelling lol

"ーcchi"

"(Y/N)-cchi"

"(Y/N)"

You snap out of your daze, only to look up to see Mikey staring at you. His dark eyes locking straight onto yours, as if he’s trying to figure out your thoughts. He’s stopped walking and is awaiting for your answer. Only the light from the light post illuminating you both as Mikey walks you home. You sheepishly smile before apologizing, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” holding the straps of your school bag tighter. Mikey remains silent for a moment before straight forward asking you. “Are you okay?” Even if his expression did not show it you could hear a hint of concern in his voice. “I-I’m fine, just tired from school.” You reply hoping he doesn’t hear the stutter laced within. Walking a few steps forward “Come on!” you call out to him, with a smile on your face. “I see…” He replies his lips forming a tiny smile before stepping forward till he’s walking by your side.

Eventually, you both stop at the front entrance of your house. “Thank you for walking me home.” You thank him with a genuine smile on your face. Mikey returns your smile with his hands in his pockets.

"Good night, (Y/N)-cchi.”

“Good night, Mikey.”

You walk towards the entrance of your house one hand on the door handle. “Bye bye!” You smile and wave, only when Mikey sees you enter your home does he step back. He waves with a grin before walking towards the opposite direction you both came from. You step inside your home and shut the front door. Once you were in the safely of your own home, do you fall to your knees, your school bag dropping carelessly onto the floor. You could feel your body uncontrollably shake, raising your two hands to stare at them. You couldn’t tell him, about what was happening. You bite your lip as tears pool in your eyes. You couldn’t tell him about them, Yui and her minion of guys. How she would corner you at the back of the school, pulling on your hair as you sat on your knees while she viciously insults you and assaults you. Her minions laughing along, what could you do? You couldn’t fight back against three guys, you tried and you were glad Mikey did not notice the bruises that had formed underneath your long sleeved uniform.

You dreaded going to school the next day, knowing what would be awaiting you. You sluggishly button your school uniform, while the mirror reflects back the horrible bruises that have littered your arms and stomach. You hand lightly brushes against your skin only for you to wince and pull your hand away. They were the painful reminders your mind refuses to think about as it only causes more fear within you.

Putting your shoes on, you step outside beginning your walk to school. You were silent as you walked, more students appearing the closer you approach your school. As you were putting on your indoor shoes, you jumped back in surprise at the sound of your friend calling out your name. Yui blinks confusingly at you before greeting you with a smile “good morning (Y/N)!” Her light brown curls bouncing along as she spoke. Your eyes widen and your breathing quickens, “g-good morning…” you managed to stutter out, your back pressed against the shoe lockers. None of the students paying any mind to the both of you. Yui smiles before leaning towards you, “come to the usual place after school, I’ll be waiting…” she whispers menacingly into your ear skipping away with a wave of her hand. Your hold on your bag tightens as panic flushes through your veins. Her words echoing repeatedly in your mind.

.

.

.

Classes passed by in agony as your mind continues to think about Yui's words. None of the teachers words registered in your head. What was she going to do to you this time. You only prayed that it didn’t take long.

Students scatter as class ends as you slowly put away your notebooks and books into your bag, hoping to delay the inevitable. It wasn’t long until all the students left leaving you alone in the classroom with a shaky breathe you prepare yourself as walk towards the back of the school.

.

.

.

“What took you so long bitch?”

Yui immediately corners you to the wall as her sharp eyes glare into yours. “I-I" before you could even form a response she grabs you by your hair forcing you to kneel down. Your hands immediately reaches out to hers hoping she would let go. “What a bad girl, you’ve kept them waiting you know?” Your eyes immediately widen as you see three tall figures loom over you. Your breath hitches in your throat as Yui's minions menacingly smile while their eyes rake over your body. “P-Please no…!” You manage to stutter out as panic flood your body. Yui's smile only widens before she kicks you to the ground, the dirt and dust clinging onto your clothes as you wince in pain.

“Have fun boys.”

Immediately, the guy in middle jumps on you-pinning your arms to the ground. You feel your back hit the ground as your breath gets knocked out of you. “N-No stop..!” Yui let’s out an estranged laugh before pulling her phone out to record you. “Smile for the camera (Y/N)!” The guy towering over you descends upon your neck, harshly biting onto your skin enough to draw blood. You scream as you struggle to get loose only for a hand to cover your mouth, if only if you had been stronger-strong like Mikey then this wouldn’t be happening. The image of your strong boyfriend flashes through your mind as tears cascade along your face as you continue to struggle.

 Mikey…

In a flash, the guy above you was kicked away his body skittering before finally stopping-only for blood to ooze out of his nose and mouth. His body didn’t move anymore, simply lying on the dirt ground. Immediately all heads snap to a figure who had recently just appeared. The black jacket he was wearing and his blonde hair fluttering in the wind, his leg still raised in a kicking position before he lowers it down.

“W-Who the hell are y-you?” One of the two remaining guys questioned with fear in their eyes. You blink your bleary eyes as more tears fall, “M-Mikey…” you stutter out. Mikey remains silent as kneels before you, his face devoid of any emotion. He carefully pulls you up into a sitting position before draping his jacket over your shoulders. “Get him!” Yui calls out which snaps the remaining two guys action, causing them to run blindly towards Mikey with their fists pulled back. Before you could even blink, Mikey already has the two guys knocked out on the ground. “What just happened?” You knew your boyfriend was strong but this was unbelievable. It all happened in a flash.

Yui noticing that she has been outnumbered begins to tremble as her eyes land on Mikey. Mikey casually steps on the fallen bodies and approaches Yui until her back meets the wall, her phone clenched tightly within her hands. “Pleasー” Before she could utter the word a fist lands beside her head. In shock, Yui drops her phone. Mikey slowly pulls his fist away from the wall, leaving a crater in its place, remnants of the wall crumbling. Then he stomps on the phone laying on the ground crushing it to bits. “You’re lucky that I don’t hit girls…” Mikey stares down menacingly, his eyes devoid of any light. Yui could only cower as she begins to cry, mumbling incoherent apologies.

“Mikey, s-stop!” You manage to utter out as you try to stand, wincing in pain. You never seen your boyfriend like this, it was as if he was a completely different person and that scared you. “Mikey please..” Your eyes once again welling up with tears as you limp towards him. Before wrapping your shaking arms around his waist, placing your head on his back.

“P-Please…”

After a few moments of silence, Mikey finally speaks to you his back still turned towards you. “I came to pick you up but I couldn't find you then I heard your scream. I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you (Y/N)….” You buried your face further into his back, your tears wetting his shirt. “T-Thank you, for saving me…” You pull away as Mikey turns around to face you, an unexplainable emotion within his eyes. “Thank you, for saving a weakling like me...” You gently smile your glistening eyes meeting his. “You’re not weak!” Mikey exclaims as he carefully takes your bruised hand with his bloodied hand. “Not to me...” With his other hand he wipes away the blood on the corner of your lips.

“Let’s go home (Y/N)-cchi.” You nod as you both pull away from each other. You walk ahead picking up your dirty school bag, noticing how dark the sky has gotten as Mikey follows behind you then abruptly stops making sure you’re away from earshot, his head turning back to face the forgotten crying girl behind him.

“Next time you ever think of hurting her, I'll kill you…”

#sano manjiro #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x y/n #skipps writes

[tfwlawyers]

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

-

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

-

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

-

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

-

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

-

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

-

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

-

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

-

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

-

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

-

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

He

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

-

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

-

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

-

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

-

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

-

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

-

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

-

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the  proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

-

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

-

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

-

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

-

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

-

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

-

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

-

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

-

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

-

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

#bluefaewren #replies #parent trap au #attempting to write tag

[thejudgingtrash]

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

#mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #may I introduce you to my beloved wife #mel writes #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #pjo fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #mel spoils

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Long Journey Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 长旅之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 8 July 2021 ]

Deers rest peacefully beside me, and birds caw from the branches.

All of a sudden, a rustling sound of flapping wings disrupts the peace in the forest.

Smiling subconsciously while tilting my head upwards, a gigantic griffin descends from the sky.

MC: Welcome back, Griffy! Have you been eating and sleeping well?

I walk up to it, burying my face in the griffin’s fluffy chest fur, letting out a happy sigh.

??: You’re only welcoming it?

The voice I’m most familiar with drifts from the griffin’s back. After that, a figure leaps down smoothly.

MC: Gavin, welcome home!

With a turn of my face, I smile while giving him a wave.

Gavin is wearing simple and informal clothes. However, the extraordinary way he carries himself and the exquisite crown on his forehead could only belong to a prince.

He bows before me in a teasing manner, handing me a small bag. Even without opening it, I can smell the fragrance of pastries.

Gavin: Goddess of Nature, I bring you this round of offerings. But stop sharing them with these animals. They’ve put on weight again.

MC: They’re only cute when they’re round and plump.

I retort, unconvinced. Even so, I pinch the squirrel on my shoulder, placing it back onto the tree.

MC: I have also mentioned that you don’t have to bring me any offerings. The person who made the agreement with me was your mother, and I've already accepted sufficient offerings from her.

Despite what I said, I open the little bag that Gavin gave me, grinning while taking out the pastries.

As a deity, I’m basically adept in everything within my own forest. However, I lack the skills and abilities to bake such snacks.

As such, I’m exceptionally happy whenever he brings me such food.

While eating, I continue speaking with unclear articulation.

MC: When your mother came to the forest that year with a jewel which had been passed down from generation to generation, as well as her crown your deity father once gave her...

Gavin: With those items as offerings, she hoped that you’d become my guardian deity who would keep me safe and train me till I became a passable king.

When deities accept human offerings, they reciprocate by bestowing blessings onto humans. This way, a wonderful transactional relationship is formed.

Back then, a queen had brought her son of around fourteen or fifteen years of age to my forest.

That elegant and dignified lady was smiling, but there was faint worry in her eyes.

She told me that her days were numbered, and that she wouldn’t be able to watch her son grow up.

The child’s father was a high-ranking deity who was busy maintaining the earth's order and rarely showed himself.

As such, she gave me offerings, hoping that I'd become her son’s guardian deity, and to protect this small prince.

Gavin does a stretch, then removes the saddle on Griffy.

Gavin: You’ve said it many times, and I remember it all. 

Gavin: Instead of these things, why don’t you eat quickly? I specially bought the basket which just came out from the stove, then rushed Griffy over. The pastries won’t taste good if they get cold.

Gavin draws out his tone, but a smile remains on his lips.

I turn my head towards Gavin, who is helping me manage the medicinal plants with a practised hand. I can’t help but ponder softly in my heart.

This person doesn’t let me protect him much...

Although this half deity obtained the added protection from the Goddess of Nature, he has never asked for assistance aside from guidance.

He has always strived for the things he wanted, and would persist through failure until he reaches his goal.

Later on, this prince who excels in both learning and military skills, and can even control wind, is the one who helps me out.

He always brings me all sorts of human food and small trinkets, calling them offerings.

Gavin: Why are the medicinal plants here turning bare again... did I water them too much?

I can’t help but laugh secretly while walking over to his side. Holding up those medicinal plants, I restore them to life.

Till this day, he only lets me help him in this area.

I think about how despite not having been coronated king, Gavin has long since been able to run a country.

As a guardian deity, I haven’t neglected my duties, have I?

MC: Come to think of it... Gavin, why haven’t you held a coronation ceremony?

Gavin pauses in his movements.

Gavin: Do you want me to become king?

MC: Of course.

Gavin: But if I become king, it means that you’d no longer be my guardian deity.

MC: That... is correct.

Gavin averts his line of sight, and he doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.

This seems to be the case every time I broach this topic with him.

Clearing my throat, I attempt to change the topic to break the awkward atmosphere.

MC: Oh yes, how many days will you be staying this time?

Gavin doesn’t respond. As though he has finally made a certain decision, he sighs deeply and lifts his head, meeting my eyes directly.

Gavin: The reason why I came this time is because there’s something important I needed to tell you. I’ve decided to succeed to the throne.

The overly abrupt news leaves me dumbfounded on the spot.

Gavin doesn’t elaborate further, and continues.

Gavin: Before that, I intend to follow the ancient text and collect the rumoured offerings that deities cannot refuse. That will allow a strong deity to become my new guardian deity, to protect me, and to protect this country.

Hearing his resolute words, my heart feels slightly upset.

Although completing my agreement is a good thing, why does my heart feel empty?

He even said he was going to find a new guardian deity...

I blink a few times, unable to comprehend the feelings churning in my heart.

Gavin: But right now, you’re my guardian deity. Which is why I hope you can accompany me on this journey. Is that okay?

Gavin looks straight at me, his eyes as transparently clear as a cloudless amber sky.

Facing such a him, I can only nod.

-

Despite not yet rationalising my emotions, I reluctantly embark on this journey with him.

The first stop of this journey is the forest in which fairies live.

Looking at the first treasure recorded in the ancient text, I heave a long sigh.

MC: A crystal which can counteract all sorts of curses. It only grows at the tip of the World Tree...

Gavin: What’s wrong? Deities don’t like it?

MC: It’s the opposite. No deities have refused such an offering. To be honest, even I want it. But...

I lift my head. Looking at the giant tree which plunges into the sky, I have a bad feeling.

MC: You have to know that even though I’m a deity, I was born from nature, and the source of my strength comes from the forest and the land. Which also means...

I’m not good at flying.

Likely hearing the implication of my words, Gavin doesn’t hold back, chuckling softly.

MC: Gavin! Don’t laugh! At that height, even a griffin would have difficulties flying up there. Furthermore, people are good at different-

Gavin: Get on.

Gavin leaps onto the griffin, lowering his head to look at me.

The griffin releases an excited caw, its wings flapping up and down.

Faint morning light caresses the side of his face, the gorgeous rosy glow wilfully painting the azure sky.

His hair and indigo cloak roll up with the air currents, the crown on his head reflecting arc lights.

And on his face, there’s a heroic valiance even clearer and more radiant than any jewel.

For a moment, I’m left slightly dazed.

As compared to any other moment, I can clearly sense that he is no longer that little child who had his brows tightly furrowed back then.

The person before me has shed off his childishness, is sufficiently intelligent, and sufficiently mature - a person who is about to become a young king.

I always knew that he was someone worth having faith in.

But there seems to be something else in his eyes that causes my heartbeat to accelerate uncontrollably.

Likely seeing that I haven’t moved in a long time, Gavin leans over, pulling me in front of him steadily, his arms wrapped securely around my waist.

Gavin: Let’s go.

With this soft statement, the griffin, which had been anticipating this for a very long time, flaps its wings, soaring towards the azure sky.

At the same time, a powerful gale whizzes under Gavin’s beckoning.

Using the wind as wings, we fly very, very high.

Gavin: I wanted to take you flying like this since a very long time ago. But I wasn’t able to find a suitable chance.

His words land on my ears amidst the fluttering sound of wind - high-spirited, clear, and without restraint.

I can hear the throbbing of my own heart, reminiscent of the bits of feathers in the air, drifting along with the breeze.

With Gavin around, Griffy doesn’t have to exert much effort, landing at the crown of the World Tree.

There is a rich display of light and colours on the dense and green treetop. Amidst the various lights, a cluster of dazzling crystals emit a tender and dream-like colour.

Gavin: Looks like this is it.

He plucks a crystal deftly, storing it in the travelling bag he carried along.

Seizing this chance, I take several deep breaths to calm the inexplicable throbbing in my chest.

MC: Since we’ve successfully obtained the first item, are we heading to the next destination? Or are we resting here for the night?

Gavin: We’ll set off straightaway. But give me a moment.

Gavin reaches out to pluck a few smaller crystals. Using a few branches around us, he weaves a simple bracelet, then clasps it around my wrist gently.

Gavin: Since you like it, bring a few more back.

Just as he finishes speaking, a few fairies who were grinning among the leaves earlier rush out towards us.

Fairy A: Congratulations! May the fruits of the World Tree protect the two of you forever!

Fairy B: Congratulations on your marriage! I wish you two everlasting sweetness!

MC: Huh?

Watching as the fairies start to sprinkle flower petals over our heads, my face burns with a “whoosh”.

MC: [blushing] What nonsense are you saying?

The fairy grins while speaking once again.

Fairy B: Firstly, don’t the two of you play together often, and like each other more than others?

Very few humans enter my forest. Aside from the small animals, the only one who visits me frequently, chats with me, and has fun with me is Gavin.

As compared to those small animals which aren’t able to talk or bring me snacks, it’s true that I like Gavin a little more.

With this thought in mind, I nod.

At the side, Gavin nods too. But for some reason, the tips of his ears are slightly red.

Fairy A: Secondly, didn’t the two of you make a unique agreement with each other?

Not knowing where this is heading, I nod again. After all, I’m Gavin’s guardian deity.

At the side, Gavin does a similar action.

Fairy A: Lastly, he made a bracelet for you using the crystals of the World Tree, then put it on for you personally. Doesn’t that symbolise that you’re destined for each other?

The fairy says this matter-of-factly, and the surrounding fairies agree in succession.

MC: Wait wait wait wait, this is a misunderstanding! We’re...

The words are at my lips, but I pause.

It seems that I’ve never considered how to define my relationship with Gavin.

I’m his guardian deity, but I can vaguely sense that it goes further than that.

In the end, Gavin takes half a step forward, blocking me from the celebrating fairies.

Gavin: That’s just the tradition of fairies. Humans and deities don’t have such rules. She’s a guardian deity belonging only to me.

-

The heating stove is bright red, and the sound of forging is unceasing.

??: Drink quickly, drink quickly! There are many more barrels!

The dizzying fragrance of alcohol permeates the air. Even if it’s dispelled by the breeze, it lingers for a long time.

??: You’ll only enjoy yourself to the fullest by accompanying it with the best quality cheese! Want a chunk of smoked meat too?

The bustling marketplace is rife with people hawking their wares, cheese, smoked meat, fruits and perfume. The dazzling lineup leaves one overwhelmed.

??: I didn’t expect that humans could drink as well as us! Not bad!

??: After all, he’s a half deity!

A circular table is in the middle of the lively marketplace, surrounded by dwarves who are adept in iron casting.

Aromatic mead courses through the crevices of the crowd and the small path, being sent to the table in a continuous stream.

MC: Gavin, are you sure you can still drink?

This is the first time I’m seeing Gavin drink this much. He wobbles a little while standing beside the table. Fortunately, his eyes are still sober and clear.

Gavin: I’m fine. 

Gavin: [to the dwarves] We agreed that as long as I can outdrink all of you, you’d give the rarest treasure of the dwarves to me - a golden belt praised by all the deities.

Dwarf A: We never lie!

Dwarf B: Goddess, try some! 

Before I can refuse politely, Gavin has already pulled over the wine cup offered to me, drinking it in one mouthful.

Gavin: I’m the one competing against all of you.

Whether it’s due to the mead or the nearby heating stove, my face grows slightly warm.

Another barrel of mead is finished, and the alcohol-loving dwarves at the table have already collapsed.

Gavin presses the wooden wine cup onto the table heavily. Arching a brow, he raises his volume slightly.

Gavin: You’ve lost.

Dwarf A: Fine, you win! The belt belongs to you! But...!

The dwarf stands up wobbly and burps. In front of Gavin, he pats his own chest.

Dwarf A: There’s... there’s something even more... important that I must do! Axe! I want to make an axe - the best axe - and give it to my beloved lady!

While saying this, he runs and staggers towards the forging stove. The dwarves in the surroundings cheer him on and whistle.

MC: What’s happening this time...

The dwarf is inebriated, but his limbs remain deft. He holds up a hammer and picks a chunk of steel which has been scorched red. Then, he begins hammering it with clanking sounds.

Dwarf A: Half Deity! Come here!

Dwarf B: Come and make something too!

The dwarves are rowdy, and they bring Gavin over to a forging stove, teaching him how to forge weapons.

I head over curiously. Gavin seems to think of something. He glances at me, a smile surfacing on his lips.

Then, he holds up a chunk of mithril and gives it a detailed look, as though visualising the shape he wants to carve it into.

After a while, Gavin picks up the iron hammer, hammering in a decisive manner.

Sparks dance in the air, and the flames from the stove are exuberant. The clamour and sounds of hammering are incessant, bringing the celebration of the marketplace to a climax.

Dwarf A: Done!

Cheers erupt from amongst the crowd. That drunk dwarf raises the axe he had forged, then runs towards a small stall in the marketplace.

Dwarf A: This axe is for you, my beautiful woman! Please marry me!

Even from across the marketplace, the loud voice of the dwarf drifts over clearly.

Dwarf B: Hahahaha! Not bad!

The dwarf at the side chuckles so hard that he isn’t able to straighten up. He takes several deep breaths to calm himself down, then turns around to speak to Gavin.

Dwarf B: Half Deity Lad, you too. Your skills are pretty good for a beginner! If you have a beloved lady, don’t hesitate. Just propose directly!

At the other side of the marketplace, the proposal succeeds. A brand new celebration and banquet has already begun.

I don’t bother about the joy which is about to drown us. I simply look at Gavin.

Perhaps he’s drunk a little too much. Right now, he’s staring fixedly at the short staff he forged, a look of contemplation on his face.

What the dwarf said earlier echos in my ears, akin to a mystical magic spell.

Looking at Gavin, I find myself wondering if he’d give that short staff to me.

Would he smile while looking straight into my eyes, or would he avert his gaze in embarrassment?

I’m left dumbfounded by these inexplicable thoughts.

Perhaps I’ve also drunk a little too much.

-

Early the second day, we bid farewell to the dwarves, preparing to continue the journey.

MC: I didn’t think we’d witness a wedding. It’s a pity that we couldn’t hear more about how they met and got to know each other.

Gavin: Mm. I’m also really curious.

MC: It’s rare to see you interested in such topics.

Gavin: After all, meetings are special things to me. Meetings and keeping each other company are very beautiful things.

Gavin’s tone is gentle, as though he’s recollecting his most treasured memories. Pale gold sunlight illuminates his eyes, which are even more dazzling than the most expensive jewels.

In this short trance, a fleeting yet unrealistic thought burrows into my mind without notice.

I shake my head forcefully, and decide to say something to distract myself.

My gaze quickly sweeps around the surroundings, then locks on a target.

MC: Gavin, do you still remember how we met Griffy?

As though he didn’t expect my sudden question, Gavin blinks a few times, then strokes the grown-up Griffy, chuckling as he speaks.

Gavin: Of course I remember.

Gavin: Back then, my mother had already passed on for a few years. And that deity father never appeared. 

Gavin: Perhaps because of those things, I had a pretty bad attitude towards you during that time. Sorry.

Till this day, I can still remember that period of time.

His amber eyes, which always sparkle and shine, were dyed with a heavy grey. Even his hair, which always sticks up, had drooped listlessly.

But it’s precisely because I was always by his side that I understood the heartbreak and struggles he faced during that period of time.

And I rejoiced that at the very least, I was there to keep him company.

I walk towards him, reaching out to tousle his hair. Gavin leans down and comes slightly closer to me, a peaceful smile on his face.

Gavin: In short, I came to the forest one day.

Gavin: It was raining that day. I walked to the vicinity of your small house, and discovered that you were taking care of a small, stray griffin which had wandered here from somewhere.

Gavin: You’re a goddess, but you didn’t care about yourself, and only cared about shielding the griffin from the rain.

Gavin: You treated its wounds and fed it, while getting drenched by the rain yourself.

Along with his depiction, memories surge into my heart, and they are dyed with a hazy colour of rain.

MC: I recall how you shielded me from the rain with a large leaf. Back then, I was thinking about how rare it was to see such gentle moments from you.

Gavin: Since then, I...

Gavin’s voice grows softer and softer. He turns his face away a little unnaturally.

MC: Since then?

Gavin ignores my question. He simply clears his throat and hands me something.

Gavin: MC, this is for you.

Accepting it subconsciously, the cold and smooth texture of metal causes me to hold my breath.

It’s the short staff he had personally forged yesterday.

His emblem is carved on the body of the staff, and a quality gem is mounted at the tip.

MC: This is...

Before I can say anything, Gavin hurriedly explains.

Gavin: I’m a human, so I don’t follow the traditions of dwarves. In the culture of humans, giving a handmade gift to someone is a form of etiquette to express gratitude. So... this is a thank you gift. Thank you for teaching me so much, and for taking such good care of me.

MC: I... I see!

Gavin speaks calmly and appears utterly composed.

Accepting the short staff, I turn around to pack my items. Recalling the image that surfaced in my mind earlier, my face burns again.

Clearing my throat, I ask Gavin a question tentatively.

MC: Gavin, according to your customs, what would you give to your bride?

Gavin: I’d craft a ring personally.

While saying this, he takes my travelling bag and fixes it onto Griffy’s back. Then, he picks up the ancient text to confirm our next destination.

MC: When that time comes, I’ll definitely pluck the most beautiful flowers in the forest and make a wedding bouquet for your bride.

Holding a wedding and having a partner - these are things worthy to be happy about.

But when I said this, I found that I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

It’s as though my heart is drowned in deep water. It feels acrid, and there’s also a tightening in my chest.

I’ve lived for a very long time on this land, witnessed the construction and destruction of many kingdoms, and experienced battles and peace since the ancient times till today.

Yet, I’m unable to understand the feelings I’m currently experiencing, and what they signify.

-

After that, we head to many other places together.

We cross the dessert, fly over the ocean, scale the highest mountain peak, and head to the deepest abyss.

We dance in a sea of flowers along with the odes of travelling bards, and bargain with a gigantic, greedy dragon.

The treasures in the travelling bag increase in number. Every treasure obtained makes it increasingly clearer that this dream-like journey is about to come to an end.

On an unknown empty island, Gavin and I sit side by side on the shore, watching as the waves at our feet lap against the rocks.

Looking at the pearl head ornament Gavin just gave me, my voice comes out hoarser than expected.

MC: What will you do once you become king?

Gavin: Quite a number of races are interested in humans. Perhaps I could try broadening trade. I also have to revolutionise the senate.

He talks about his responsibilities earnestly - from commerce to ruling the country, from art to food.

Gavin’s dead seriousness tickles me to laughter.

I console myself with the thought that even after he becomes king and I’m no longer his guardian deity, our relationship wouldn’t change that much. 

Gavin suddenly stops mid-speech, as though deliberating something.

I turn my head, only to see the reddened tips of his ears.

Gavin: Also... I want to marry the lady I like and make her my queen. This way, I can always be with her.

Gavin looks afar off, his gaze gentle, as though he can see his desired future.

For some reason, I want to rush towards that future with him.

And I suddenly realise what that acrid feeling twirling around in my heart is.

Without realising it, my feelings for Gavin have been intertwined and encased by a sense of possessiveness.

I don’t want him to have another guardian deity, nor do I want him to give these treasures we’ve collected together to another deity.

Most of all, I don’t want him to put a personally crafted ring on the finger of another lady.

The sea breeze rolls up tiny, light blue flowers on the beach. They dance in the air, floating towards the ocean.

At this moment, all the clamorous emotions and feelings quieten down, and are crowned a name and definition -

All of this is called “liking”.

-

The journey is about to end.

Griffy returns us to the ground.

Looking at my forest and at my little courtyard, I feel as though everything happened a lifetime ago.

Gavin: It’s nice to be home.

Gavin retrieves the travelling bag, then pats the fence at the door.

Gavin: Wait. Why do the medicinal plants look even healthier than before I left...

I tug onto Gavin before he can check on the medicinal plants.

MC: The journey has already ended, and you’ve collected sufficient treasures. Are you going to succeed to the throne after this? Looks like my agreement with your mother has been fulfilled.

Gavin: That’s right. But aren’t you going to let me rest at your place and have a drink of water?

MC: You have quite a number of things to handle after this. These treasures need to be offered to the deity. And you also have to... marry the lady you like. You should take action quickly and settle these things at one go!

I give him a stern expression, trying to conceal the childish impetuousness in my heart.

Gavin: Do you think the deity will really like these?

Gavin doesn’t leave. He stands in place, his words bringing with them a smile.

Looking at the full and bulging travelling bag, I feel tremendously envious.

MC: Of course. Who was the one who picked them with you? All right, go and offer them to your new deity. Who are you looking for? I could put in a good word for you so he or she would give you a little more blessings.

My voice grows softer and softer, and my gaze flits around.

Gavin: If she’ll like them, I can put my mind at ease. 

Gavin speaks softly, but doesn’t respond to my question. He takes the travelling bag, placing the treasures we’ve collected on the grass before me.

The crystal from the top of the World Tree, the golden belt crafted by the dwarves, the unwilting flower from the deepest part of the desert, the coral from the deepest oceanic trench...

Aside from the recorded treasures, there’s also cheese from the dwarves’ marketplace, a headscarf from sea nymphs, sun-dried jerky from the giants, and other miscellaneous items.

These items were brought along with Gavin because I liked them.

After setting down the last item, he takes half a step back.

Then, he gets down on one knee, tilting his head upwards to look at me.

Gavin: Goddess of Nature, I give you all of these offerings. Please bestow blessings upon me, protect my country, and crown me.

Gavin: And please make a long-lasting agreement with me, to become my queen, and to keep me company.

Gavin: Till death do us part.

Gavin looks at me, his sentiments and tenderness condensing into honey coloured amber.

Sunlight filters through the leaves, landing on his face like a kiss, making his eyes bright and glittering.

MC: [blushing] I...

Before I can respond, Griffy caws happily, giving me a nudge from behind, causing me to fall into Gavin’s arms.

MC: [blushing] Griffy! I didn’t raise you to be this big so you could do that!

I grumble, pretending to be stern. Then, I close my eyes defeatedly, burying my head in Gavin’s arms, not wanting him to have a clear view of my blushing face.

Gavin’s soft chuckle and his breaths land on my ears, akin to the first tender breeze in early summer.

Gavin: I used to worry that the reason for our interactions was due to that prior agreement. 

Gavin: Once the agreement ended, you would no longer have a connection to me. 

Gavin: I was troubled by this for a while, and also tried to delay that day from arriving. 

Gavin: But one day, I made a decision. 

Gavin: Instead of holding on to that past agreement, why don’t I make a new vow instead.

Gavin tilts his chin towards those treasures.

Gavin: But I don’t want you to simply be a goddess who responds to my prayers.

Gavin: This journey was meant for you to understand that my feelings for you aren’t simply the dependence humans have towards their guardian deities.

Gavin: I just don’t know how effective it was...

Gavins speaks, averting his gaze.

Recalling the hints and occasional bashfulness during the journey, I finally understand everything, and my face turns incomparably red.

MC: [blushing] Right from the beginning, you already...

Gavin coughs softly.

Gavin: So, are you willing?

Watching as his eyes draw increasingly nearer to me, it’s as though a pot of honey has been overturned in my heart, and all the flowers seem to be blooming at the same time.

I lift my hand.

MC: I’m the deity who controls the land, forests, and all the animals.

MC: I hereby make an agreement with you-

The forest seems to respond to my words. Birds outstretch their wings, trees rustle, and the land releases a faint humming sound.

Light flickers at my fingertips, akin to a sprouting bud as it flows and spreads over Gavin’s crown.

MC: I will always protect your kingdom. May your land be forever fertile, and may your kingdom forever be peaceful.

My power weaves my words into an unbreakable vow between us.

As a goddess, these are the strongest blessings I can give to him.

With a small smile, I continue speaking. Softly, I give him the blessings from me as MC, and also my response.

MC: I will also share my life with you, and my power.

MC: I will accompany you for a long time, until the destruction of the earth.

A light blooms, encasing us within it.

Gavin doesn’t speak, and simply looks at me.

I recall the day we saw the sea together, and recall the fluttering light blue petals, and the gaze he had when he stared afar off.

I’m guessing that his gaze has finally found a dwelling place.

The rays of light around us gradually recede, and the vow is established.

This isn’t a lengthy ceremony, nor does it involve complicated steps.

But we have cast a connection different from before - one which is unique in the world.

Having used my powers, I lean into Gavin’s arms, looking at the same sky together.

MC: Aren’t you going to say something?

Gavin: Erm... you really looked like a goddess earlier.

There doesn’t seem to be a change in or relationship. However, there’s a certain sweetness in our dialogue.

MC: I am a goddess! Wait, that’s not what I was referring to. May I invite Your Majesty, who has obtained the goddess’ blessings through his own strength, share his thoughts with us?

Gavin pretends to ponder over this seriously.

Gavin: I just remembered that there’s one thing I haven’t done. I plan to make another trip to the dwarves’ nation.

MC: Did you forget something?

Gavin pulls me up, and we stand together. He pats Griffy, getting it ready to set out.

Gavin: I mentioned before that I’d personally craft a ring for my queen.

Gavin: You also promised that you’d pluck the most beautiful flowers in the forest to make a wedding bouquet.

Gavin: I look forward to seeing it when I return.

🐦 MOMENTS 🐦

Gavin’s Post: If griffins really existed, they'd probably feel quite nice.

MC: Would a griffin’s fur feel like a bird’s or a lion’s?

Gavin: ...I have never thought about this question.

-

Gavin’s Post: If griffins really existed, they'd probably feel quite nice.

MC: If only we could rear one!

Gavin: We might need a larger courtyard to let it build a nest.

-

Gavin’s Post: If griffins really existed, they'd probably feel quite nice.

MC: I really want to bury my face in it...

Gavin: Even though we don’t have a griffin, we could ask Flyer if its willing.

🐦 Calls: First ll Second

🐦 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #feedback on whether keeping the text un-italicised is better on the eyes will be much appreciated!

[softinkshadows]

Shingeki no Kyojin Astrology: sun-moon-rising combinations

I was looking around tumblr for detailed astrology speculations of my fave anime characters, but there aren't that many! Being q well-versed in astro myself, i thought why not do my own version (very spoiler-free, don’t worry)! I followed the birth dates given by isayama:

Eren Jaeger - Aries sun, Scorpio moon, Cancer rising Aside from the fact that he can be hotheaded and impulsive, Eren's feelings of vengeance run deep and explosive. Remember that time he was chained to the bed after the attack on trost, and his eyes were wild with the need to violently eradicate all titans? He's so tenacious and emotionally stubborn too (a Scorp moon trait) to the point of being closed off from everyone else, especially towards the end where he seems to take the weight of the world's burden on his own shoulders. And all for the sake of protecting his community and ensuring the safety of his friends for the rest of their lives. His comrades and family are his motivation. This is his Cancer rising steering his life.

Mikasa Ackerman - Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Aries rising "Look that moody brat is running off on her own again." Mikasa is similar to Eren in her impulsiveness and determination, but different in two ways- what they aim to protect and their extent of fearlessness. Eren is aware of his own weaknesses and helplessness, but Mikasa's amazing physical prowess makes her act without any hesitation at all. She's hella fierce and driven to keep herself in shape too, doing all those sit-ups and chopping firewood post-injury. I think she deserves a double Aries! An Aries rising means a Libra descendant too, which is reflected her whole-hearted devotion in her close partnerships (Eren and Armin). Her aquarius moon really shines thru with her stoic independence, focus and perseverance.

Armin Arlet - Scorpio sun, Virgo moon, Pisces rising He's the brain of the 104th cadet corps, and is second to Erwin in terms of strategy! An intelligent planner with low self-esteem often found second guessing his own analytical abilities, Armin is a true blue Virgo moon. His emotional self stands out the most from the main three protagonists - Eren & Mikasa mostly express anger and desperation, whereas Armin is usually shrouded in fear and worry. He's a very soft bb, hence the Pisces rising, not to mention he gets so dreamy imagining the sea, the vast plains, and the magical world beyond the walled universe he knows. A spiritually-attuned and curious explorer :")

Levi Ackerman - Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon, Virgo rising Levi is such a complex person, thanks to Isayama's brilliance. Like many Cap suns, Levi is authoritative, cold and incredibly savage. That's not to say he doesn't feel anything either. Levi is an evolved Scorp moon (maybe even moon in 11th house) because his feelings are never for himself, but he hurts so much for others - you can tell every death hits him so hard, but he doesn't show this to anyone else. He also exudes this quietly intimidating aura of natural competence, a common characteristic of this sun-moon combo. He can take things personally as well (re: height issues) but it never snowballs into more than passing irritation. The turbulence of his emotions and habit for violence is balanced out by his earthy Virgo rising, which is emotionally subdued, quite thin and delicate in physique, and super neurotic and nitpicky when it comes to cleanliness and health. Cap, Virgo and Scorp are some of the most guarded signs, and a combi of all 3 are hellish. You can tell this poor beautiful man is always caught between feeling and thinking, between maintaining his humanity and forsaking it.

Erwin Smith - Libra sun, Capricorn moon, Leo rising In another life, Erwin Smith would be the damn CEO of a global conglomerate because he oozes so much charisma. Hell if charisma were energy Erwin Smith would be its prime, eternally renewable source. His stature alone is so commanding, and I find some strong Leonine traits in his thickset physique, strong eyebrows, beautiful hair, and that way he shouted in full glory atop wall Rose in that one episode to the cheering masses below. He might be a Libra sun, diplomatic in political affairs, but his Capricorn moon is what drives his decisions. Cap moon has a rep for being cold and unemotional, but i believe they are way more than that! Cap moons rarely boast about their long list of achievements, instead looking forward to the next goal. They struggle with emotional expression, and are super driven and disciplined. Erwin is capable of making the hardest decisions, putting aside emotions to strive for an abstract ideal, and this is to be expected of the commander who takes on the role of the devil.

Hange Zoe - Virgo sun, Sagittarius moon, Gemini rising All hail our favourite mad scientist!! Hange is such a breath of fresh air in the Survey Corps, balancing out the heaviness of missions with their wacky tales of titan research and experimentation. Their penchant for study and higher knowledge is typical of a Sagittarius moon, who is drawn to advanced academic study and spiritual truths. It's also a lighthearted and optimistic sign, true to Hange's upbeat personality. The Virgo in them contributes to their sheer intelligence and obsessiveness with research subjects. We also know they LOVE to talk, and once Eren asks Hange about experiments, they cannot stop (Gemini governs communication). Virgo, Sag and Gemini are the most intellectual signs, and because they are mutuable Hange tends to follow orders rather than give them, making it difficult to adapt to their new role towards the end of the series. Mutable signs also means rapidly-changing emotional states, and a whole lot of chaos, which suits our beloved squad leader.

Jean Kirstein - Aries sun, Virgo moon, Taurus rising Our third Aries on the list ohmygod. The snk universe is full of feisty hotheads. Jean is always seen clashing with Eren, fuelled by Eren's closeness with Mikasa and his own adorable jealousy. I mean, they had a full on fist fight right after dinner in the mess hall, although everything went downhill after the first few punches. Our first impression of Jean during his cadet days is coloured by his desire to work in the interior, and this favour for material safety and wealth is perhaps common to a Taurus rising. Also, Taurus is ruled by Venus, planet of beauty and harmony, and thus often figures in the charts of artists. If you've seen Jean's drawing skills in that special episode, you'll know that his artistic abilities are the finest we have seen, exceeding even that of isayama himself. Jean's strong principles such as being averse to killing people and oftentimes cynical nature, is also characteristic of the moral and cautious Virgo moon.

Sasha Braus - Leo sun, Gemini moon, Taurus rising Not all Leos are showmans. Sasha is the type of Leo who displays more of the quirky, unabrashed personality suited to her opposite sister sign Aquarius. Authority doesn't exist when food comes into play, as we see when she breaks potato with Shadis and later steals a slab of meat from the officer's warehouse. Unlike the visual artistry that Jean possesses with his Taurus rising, Sasha's Taurus centers around her love for food, and hell she can have fiery determination for it (rmb the wild night she mistook Jean's hand for meat?). I love that both of them were pitted with each other in that cooking special episode. I considered placing her as a Taurus moon, but Taurus moons are usually steadier and classier in emotion, whereas Sasha is often breezy, gets nervous and chaotic, with stellar intuition, making her likely a Gemini moon.

Connie Springer - Taurus sun, Cancer moon, Gemini rising Although not much attention is paid to Connie's growth, his character development reminds me a lot of Aang from ATLA. Cheery and happy-go-lucky at first, before the incident with his mother made him more prone to feelings of anger and vengeance, especially near the later chapters. His strong protective bond with his mother is what compels me to say he is a Cancer moon, which is a moon sign that is very homebody and drawn to family and traditions. His goofy self and him referring to Sasha as "his twin" puts him as the spunky Gemini rising, another sign he shares with her.

Reiner Braun - Leo sun, Pisces moon, Capricorn rising Aside from his natural leader personality (Leonine), Reiner likes to take on the persona of the big brother of the group. His outward stoicism, decisiveness and task-oriented nature is typical of a Cap rising, who is often serious and solemn in appearance. He reminds me of that Cap rising workaholic who does his best in a corporate organization, working 9 to 5 plus overtime as it fulfills his sense of purpose. Beyond his stoic facade reveals a more troubled personality. Like a Pisces moon, Reiner is impressionable, and it's difficult to tell if his emotions and personalities are his own, wavering and absorbing traits from those around him. His internal war with his identity and the ensuing fatigue characterises him during the second half of the series.

Annie Leonhart - Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Virgo rising Annie is the kind of Aries that is so motivated to achieve her goals that everything else is sidelined, including her own emotions. She's quite ruthless in chasing her objectives, and her composure, focus and endurance is highlighted with an Aquarius moon. I'm guessing she has a 4th house influence somewhere because of her motivations to go home to her father and lead a normal life. I find the daintiness and delicateness of her features similar to Levi, who is also a Virgo rising. The Virgo effect also registers as a brutal, unfiltered honesty (also seen in Levi), and Annie doesn't hesitate to speak the truth about her own or her opponent's capabilities.

Other characters which I won't go into much detail about:

Bertholdt Hoover - Capricorn sun, Virgo moon, Pisces rising Bertholdt is quiet with an unobtrusive personality. His lack of supposed iniative and aggression can perhaps be attributed to the mutuability of Virgo and Pisces, which goes with the flow instead of charging forward. He keeps his feelings to himself, but reacts when the people he wants to protect are threatened.

Historia Reiss - Capricorn sun, Libra moon, Cancer rising Historia initially lives for the sake of others (esp Ymir), and is more co-dependent than many of her other squadmates. She also tends to put up a front of pleasantness, afraid of disappointing or offending people. She has a strong tie to family, and a profound sense of duty.

Ymir - Aquarius sun, Pisces moon, Aries rising Ymir is extremely astute when it comes to evaluating human behaviour. The religiosity of her background is also usually found in this sun-moon combination, which tends to attract paths of strong spirituality. She also has a bold and noble sacrificial streak for the sake of her companions.

Zeke Jaeger - Leo sun, Capricorn moon, Scorpio rising A headstrong, intelligent and radical character. In a way similar to Erwin in his ruthlessness, but emotionally darker and much more sinisterly private.

Kenny Ackerman - Aquarius sun, Sagittarius moon

Rod Reiss - Virgo sun, Libra moon

Dot Pixis - Virgo sun, Sagittarius moon

Hannes - Capricorn sun, Taurus moon

#snk astrology #snk #aot astrology #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #anime astrology #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlet #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #jean kirstein #sasha braus #connie springer #reiner braun #annie leonhart #bertholdt hoover #historia reiss

[ihearthes]

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x Unnamed OFC Rating: Light Smut Word Count: 3500 Inspired by: @wanderlustwaving and “The Lady or the Tiger” by Frank Stockton

His eyes dart around the bar, seeking her. She has to be here. It’s tradition. Their tradition. January 1st. Every year. Sunset. Anguilla. The Four Seasons. 

Harry had booked this table nearest the bay a full year ago, confirming it in mid-June and again in early December. Sitting silently, his eyes shaded behind his sunnies, he watches the giant ball of fire as it descends into the water. Less of a sizzle than one would expect. Each sip of his Casamigos Blanco over ice is perfect. The sky lights up with oranges, reds, and yellows that are reflected on the clouds, resembling the Monet painting San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk which he had viewed in Cardiff. A second version hangs in Tokyo at Bridgestone Museum, and he had been lucky enough to see it once. 

The longer he watches its descent, the more he realises that this sunset is different from the paintings he’d seen. His fingers itch for watercolours or acrylics even though he knows his amateurish strokes would never capture the beauty. Last year, the sunset had been underwhelming, the clouds obscuring rather than reflecting the colours. Their first year, he had been unable to believe what he was seeing. It had been stunning with the reach of the palette across the sky, like tendrils of smoke straining to hug the entire planet. Now he captures his journal from the extra chair, opening it’s leather binding to a blank page. Flipping back to the beginning of his journal, he finds a sketch of her leaning on the railing -- drawn from memory years after their first meeting. His mind casts backwards to the non-date that had launched this annual trip. 

“Wow.” The voice belongs to a woman who steps to the railing next to him, leaning forward and twisting her head to take in the full sunset. Glancing at her, he does a double take as he recognizes her. Holy shit. She’s even more stunning in person. 

“Oh, I’d give it a solid 8.5,” Harry’s calm voice is the opposite of his turbulent emotional state. 

“Seriously? It’s much closer to a 9.2.”

“You’ve lost your mind. It’s worthwhile, but not a 9.2,” he scoffs, shifting his body slightly closer to hers. He turns toward her, planting a single forearm on the railing as he observes her in her floral sarong that matches her bikini top. Her hair is bundled lazily on top of her head, and her tanned feet are encased in strappy sandals. Surreptitiously, he takes in her curves while she’s examining the sunset. 

Twisting her head quickly, she catches his eyes on her ass. Rather than blushing, he smiles at her instead, well aware that the dimple is doing it’s job appropriately. The live steel drum band starts a new song, and she boldly turns to him, holding out her hand. “Dance?”

He doesn’t respond verbally. Grasping her fingers, Harry wraps one arm around her waist, stepping into her and leading them in time with the music. When he twirls her rather expertly, she laughs, planting a hand on his chest and gazing up at him with what appears to be a phony bashfulness. 

“I didn’t know you could dance,” she laughs. 

“Clearly you’ve never seen me live on stage,” Harry smirks. 

She clucks her tongue, “Oh, but I have. I said what I said, Styles.”

Looking away from her, he can’t help the smile that breaks loose. Damn, she’s got moxie. And it’s intriguing and beguiling. 

“You’re here alone?” he wonders, his eyes roaming the outdoor space. It’s filled with strangers -- to him anyway. 

“Tonight only. Yes.” She twirls him, and he grins at the move. 

“Me too.” The soft words are spoken into her ear as he’s drawn her closer. “I like to spend the first night of the year reflecting on the previous year.”

“Isn’t that what New Year’s Eve is for?” she wonders, her voice breathy. 

“Nah. That’s for drinking and celebrating with friends. Today is for reflection -- looking backwards and forwards simultaneously.”

“Planning to conquer the world this year, Mr. Styles?” 

“Indeed.” Arching an eyebrow, he mimics a cartoon villain, drawing his pinky to his mouth. 

She slaps at his chest, and he desperately wants to kiss her in that moment. After all, they are flirting, aren’t they? 

“Are you going to offer me dinner?” she asks boldly. “And take me to your room afterwards?”

Woah. Definitely gutsy. “Depends,” he whispers as he spins them both around once more while the band winds down. 

“On what?” 

“On what kind of sushi you prefer.”

“Ah!” There’s a gleam in her eye that he can’t resist. She’s playful and not shy about being the seductress. Harry finds the combination heady. Waving her hand in dismissal as she turns towards his table, “I usually try whatever the newest offering is -- especially if it’s fresh from those waters.” Fingers waggle in the direction of the bay, and he wants to grasp them out of the air and wrap them protectively in his own hand. 

Instead, he applauds the band before following behind her. At the table, she drags her chair from the opposite side of the small round table until she’s sat beside him. With his questioning glance, she again gestures towards the bay. “I’m not going to miss that sunset just so I can stare at your pretty face.” 

Rather than sketching the sunset, he attempts to paint the current sight with words. Everything he writes seems trite: clementines, flames, majestic, radiant, blush, hearth.

Where is she? Yes, it had been a year since they had spoken, but surely she would have sent a message if she weren’t planning to join him? Why hadn’t they exchanged numbers? Followed each other on Instagram? 

But he knows why. The mystery. The transcendental experience. The enchantment of meeting once a year, incognito, in this particular and magnificent place. No knowledge of each other outside of this 24 hours that belongs to them alone. 

Which is ridiculous. Because he certainly knows who she is and follows her career. And he would be astonished if she didn’t also pay attention to his. A few times this last year they had coincidentally been in the same city simultaneously, and he had seriously debated trying to locate her. Contact her manager maybe. Or put out feelers that would certainly have stretched to her ears like an old-fashioned game of Chinese Whispers (which of course isn’t what he should call the game now; it’s racist). The message, though, would have been garbled but sufficient for them to meet up. 

Every time, he refrained. Their unspoken commitment was to this place and this one day a year. Now he regrets not making contact. Had she decided that one day a year wasn’t worth the effort? Was she even now canoodling with someone else? There hadn’t been rumours of any recent love affairs on her end, and he snatches his phone anxiously to search her name just in case she connected with someone during the last week.

Picking up his now-empty glass of tequila as he scrolls through his phone, Harry draws an ice cube into his mouth, swirling it on his tongue to relish every tiny bit of the liquor there. The burn has vanished as it’s taken him nearly an hour to drink one tequila. No record of any new beaus. Maybe he should follow her now on social media? DM her? What would he do if she didn’t show? How much longer should he wait? 

“Oh yum! This roll is even better than last year’s.” She proclaims as she rushes to grasp the last bite of the Ceviche Roll. 

“Hey! That was mine!” Harry protests, laughing as she stuffs the full piece in her mouth. 

“Order more,” she mumbles around the rice, fish, and seaweed flavored with citrus and cilantro. 

“Nah, I’ve got a different appetite now,” he murmurs, watching her lips as she chews the sushi. 

Freezing, her eyes rush to his, and she slowly finishes the sushi she’s been eating, swallowing slowly. He wishes that she would move her chair to his side of the table like she had the previous year. This time, they’re seated on opposite sides of the table, but at an angle where both can watch the setting sun. 

“What?” Her look has made him nervous. “You’re not going to tell me you’re seeing someone, are you?” 

Her hair twirls as she shakes her head. “No. Broke up with him last week in anticipation of this.”

Having sipped his tequila, Harry chokes at her words. Coughing, he grasps the table with both hands. Holy fuck. She didn’t really expect him to --

“Kidding!” Her giggle lights up her eyes, bringing a light blush to her face. She’s truly stunning. Maybe even more than last year. 

When her foot, sans sandal, caresses his calf under the table, he knows that the night is going to be filled with sex. Fun, hot, brilliant sex that will last most of the night. Hmm...perhaps it would be best to fortify himself for their escapades. Raising his hand, he flags down the server. 

“Sir?”

“Another Ceviche Roll, por favor. Plus a bottle of Casamigos.” He pauses as her foot makes its way further up his leg, and he wonders if she’s going to slide under the table completely. “Send it to my room, please.” Voice catching as her toes make contact with his crotch, he demands, “Put it all on my tab please. I’ll settle up later.” 

With a nod of agreement, the server disappears. Quickly Harry rises, adjusting his slacks as he glances around the room. 

“Let’s go,” his voice rumbles. 

“But H -- the sunset,” she whines. 

“My room has the same view,” he insists, holding out his hand which she grasps. Gracefully sliding her foot back into her sandal, she rises and glides behind him towards the elevator. 

His stomach rumbles at the thought of eating, and he debates ordering food. The sushi at the sunset lounge is always fresh. In the past, though, they’ve enjoyed the dishes together, trying new ones every year. Dejected, he places his glass harshly on the table, his disappointment at her absence radiating across his psyche like the colours of the sunset. 

“I would say it’s a solid 8.5,” her voice sounds from over his shoulder, and he twists in surprise. Like the sunset beckons the stars, she summons happiness to his soul. He scrambles to rise, kissing her on both cheeks, his lips lingering each time. Not too long, though, in case others are watching and photographing. Which he always assumes these days. Fans. Paps. No privacy exists anywhere. 

“Hi,” he whispers, grateful for her presence, but unable to say the words that would tell her how worried he’s been. That might reveal too much of his emotions. And his heart. 

Fuck. When had his heart gotten involved? And why hadn’t he realised before this particular moment? 

“You agree?” she smiles, gesturing to the sunset. 

“I would say it’s a 9 or maybe even a 9.2,” Harry smiles, his dimple making an appearance to rival the sunset in front of them. 

“You finished your drink,” she nods at his empty glass. 

“I started early.” It’s a lame excuse, and he knows it. 

His annual partner tilts her head in his direction. “Or maybe I’m late?”

Not knowing how to respond, Harry waits, his fingers playing with the coaster underneath his drink, spinning it around, the glass slowly rotating with the cardboard circle with the restaurant’s name on it. 

“I debated,” she whispers, “unsure if I should…”

The server appears, a smile on his face. His white trousers and white shirt are complemented by a blue scarf at his neck, his accent strong. 

“What can I get you?”

Harry notices the man’s gaze on his companion’s breasts which draws his own attention to the bosom swelling around the buttons of her frock, which he just now notices has sunflowers across the lower half of the skirt. Was that on purpose? 

When she exchanges a knowing glance with Harry and smoothes the fabric over her legs, it becomes clear that she knows exactly what she was doing by choosing this dress.

He shifts in his seat. 

“I’ll have what he’s having,” she announces. 

Harry reminds the server, “Two Casamigos on the rocks please. And your newest sushi roll with light brown rice please. Thanks.”

Nodding, his date agrees to the order, and he’s relieved that at least the basics haven’t changed in the last year. 

“You were saying?” he prompts as the steward moves away from them. 

“Oh,” she blushes, her cheeks tinging slightly pink. “I just...wasn’t sure…” She swallows, her head down before she makes eye contact with him, “that this was a good idea.”

Taken aback, Harry settles his bum more deeply in his chair, feeling blindsided by the comment, wishing he had his tequila to soothe him in this moment. “I see,” he mumbles. 

“Harry --” she begins, and he waves a hand in her direction. 

“It’s just casual,” he unceremoniously argues, “right?” But his heart clutches at the phrasing. 

Her eyes drop to her lap where her hands are entwined. “Yes. I guess.” Her whisper makes him sweat. Fuck. Had she decided this was it? The last time? “It’s a pretty sunset,” she adds.

“Absolutely,” he concurs, anxious at what else she might say. Silence descends on the table much faster than the stars appear in the sky above them. Should he be vulnerable? Tell her how he feels? What he’s thinking? 

This year’s live steel drum band begins a new song, and without pause, she rises, holding her hand out for him to grasp. Grateful for the reprieve, he joins her in their corner of the outdoor restaurant, placing one hand on her waist as she rests her head on his chest. Together, they sway, and his mind wanders.

“I need another lime!” she shrieks gleefully, holding the bottle of tequila in her hand. Harry shakes his head from his position flat on the bed. They are going to need clean sheets before they sleep tonight. Maybe they will go to her room for actual sleep? 

What the fuck is he thinking? As if they had actually slept during their rendezvous in the previous two years. 

“Here. Hold this,” she laughs, thrusting a lime towards Harry to place in his mouth, pulp out. 

“Mhm. Me next,” he mumbles just before his teeth wrap around the green rind.

“You bet,” she giggles. Settling herself on the bed as she straddles him, her soft parts landing on his cock encased in its bright green briefs. She slides down his legs and leans forward, holding the bottle of tequila out to the side. “Mmmmm.” Licking a stripe up from the base of his underpants to his navel, she sprinkles salt there before tilting the bottle of Casamigos and allowing a shot of tequila to land in his taut navel. He’d worked hard on his abs the last couple of months, knowing that he would be lying here with her. They’ve got definition that most blokes only dream of. 

Quickly, her tongue captures the salt before she sucks the tequila from his belly and shifts forward to suck the lime that’s in his mouth. Fuck. If he hadn’t been hard before they started this game, he’s certainly got a hammer between his legs now. 

As he releases the lime for her, she grips it in her teeth, leaning backwards in her bra and panties, her core now on his chest, and he can’t resist reaching out with a single finger and tracing a pattern over the treasure he knows is underneath. 

“You waxed for me this year,” he comments. 

“No,” she protests, “I waxed for me this year. You give great oral, and I wanted nothing to get in the way. It’s been far too long since my pussy has been properly eaten.” 

“Oh?” Harry’s eyebrow raises, as he knows a couple of people who she dated during the previous year. 

“Yep. I would say,” she smiles, leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss, her lips hovering just above his, “about exactly a year.”

“Hey…” he begins as they finish their silent dance just as their drinks arrive along with the plate of sushi, but he’s interrupted. 

“Here are your drinks. Our newest sushi roll is the Hot Lover,” which makes Harry cringe and shift again in his seat. “It’s spicy tuna, shrimp tempura, and avocado wrapped in soybean paper.” 

As he places the food in front of them, Harry smiles sadly and nods as the gentleman fades away into the restaurant, like the sunset has drifted into the ocean. 

“You were going to say something?” she asks, and he loses all of his courage. 

Shaking his head, he grasps a piece of the sushi roll between his fingers, sliding it onto his tongue. 

“Not bad,” he comments as he chews, trying to tuck the food in his cheek so he’s not rude. 

“It’s really not got a lot of flavour,” she grins as she mimics his eating habit. “Kind of boring.”

Did she mean their relationship? Was this one of those double-entendres? Swallowing the fish and rice concoction, he sips his tequila as the sushi sticks in his throat. For some reason, he wants to cry. It makes no sense, but the tears come unbidden to his eyes. Fuck. Looking away, he sips more of his drink as he watches the remnants of the sunset fade away, blinking furiously. 

“I wanted to call you when we were both in New York this year,” he comments softly. 

Her fingers pause halfway to her mouth, the soybean-paper-wrapped piece of sushi hovering near her lips. Harry watches as she debates how to respond to his comment, finally placing the fish on her tongue and chewing slowly. Unable to draw his eyes from her mouth, he unapologetically watches as she savors the restaurant’s latest speciality. Eyes closed, she moans. Her hands clutch the table on either side of her, and Harry feels his mouth go dry. 

Once she devours the food, she sips her tequila on the rocks, and he can visualize her tongue swirling the liquid around as she either tries to clear the flavour of the fish or fully taste the liquor. After all, her tongue has done that same move to his most favored body part. When she finishes, she makes eye contact with him, her hands resting on either side of her plate, fingers curled. Taking a deep breath, she straightens her fingers flat without breaking eye contact. Fuck. He’s sweating. 

“Truth be told, Harry -- I desperately wanted to call you when we were both in Edinburgh that time.”

“Why didn’t you?” His words are faster than his brain, and he immediately wishes he could draw back the question. 

“You know why,” she replies, and he nods because he does indeed know all of the reasons. “The sunset --” Her attention is drawn to the colours in the sky, “is lovely, don’t you think?”

“Honestly,” he admits, “I would say this is the best one of all of the times we’ve sat here together.” The words make him cringe. He wants to keep things light, but something about the moment prevents fluff. It feels momentous. Overwhelming. 

He watches as her eyes stray from his to the sky before they tear up and she nods in agreement. “Yes, Harry. I would say this is the most breathtaking of the sunsets we’ve seen.”

Did that mean that this would be the last one? Neither of them is getting younger. Sooner or later, one of them will meet “the one”. And then where will the other be? Stuck on an island with a sunset alone? Fuck. He doesn’t want to be that person. But he truly doesn’t want that for her either. 

“It’s a sensational sunset,” Harry pleads, his eyes not leaving her face, not straying to the glorious colours, not denying that they have some chemistry together. Why hadn’t he made a play for her before now? Was a hookup enough? Would he be happy if this is the last one? 

“Harry,” she sighs, sipping her drink again. “I wonder ---” 

The band starts a new song, and he shakes off the sound, willing her to continue. A group at the table behind them sings ‘Happy Birthday’ while another table nearby bursts into laughter and somewhere a server drops a tray of glasses, the shattering drawing applause from a few assholes close to the debacle. Harry ignores all of it. 

“Yes? Go on,” he encourages. 

“Maybe…” she bites her lip, looking away from him towards the sunset. 

“Yes?” His throat is dry, but he doesn’t reach for his tequila or his glass of ice water. Instead, his gaze remains riveted on her. 

“Do you think that perhaps we could…” 

His breath catches in his throat. What would she say? Would she ask for some random sex act? Cancel their relationship permanently? Or possibly -- miraculously -- suggest that they celebrate more sunsets together instead of just once a year. He holds his breath, waiting impatiently. 

“I mean, it would probably be best if we...” 

A/N: Reblogs are love, my readers.  I appreciate the likes, but reblogs help others find the story and, quite frankly, encourage me to continue publishing here. 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry fanfiction #original writing #harry styles imagine

[writerfromtheshore]

Takanuva and the Elevator To Another World

When Takanuva and Darkness had made a break for the Coliseum, the Toa of Light expected that they would be fighting his way tooth and nail all the way to where ever the Hall of Masks would be. The amount of Toa that had spilled out of the place had suggested that the center of the city was teeming with more warriors who were armed to the teeth and ready to destroy the opposing rebellion.

What he found though was quite the opposite. Instead of opponents and roadblocks, they found empty halls, silence, practically almost no sign of the massive confrontation that was taking place just one floor below. As they wandered the halls it seemed as if the Toa and Dark Hunter were kio away from the battle, and wandering through an empty building on some far edge of a Metru. This floor had not brought them face to face with Vahki, any of Tuyet’s Toa army, or even a single Matoran. If the two of them were not present, there would have been no sign of the occurring conflict. Takanuva forced himself to keep focus on the mission, but part of his mind could not ignore the creeping sensation that the empty halls were giving him.

They came to the end of a hallway, where an elevator door stood nestled into the wall. The bell within rang and the door opened seemingly at their approach. The empty elevator box stood open, inviting them in. The two unlikely partners looked at each other. Darkness himself looked particularly unnerved.

“A trap?” the Toa of Light asked. The Dark Hunter shook his head.

“It may be a way for you, but not for me,” said Darkness. “I sense ill will with this door. Take it if you may, but I shall find another path to this Hall we seek.” The Dark Hunter slid away into the shadows before Takanuva could even say his name in protest.

The Toa of Light breathed hard out of his nose. Typical Dark Hunter, he thought, not willing to risk his own neck. Takanuva was on his own he knew as he took a step toward the elevator.

To the credit of Darkness though, Takanuva thought as he stepped inside, something did seem off about the structure; the way it just stood there, open and silently waiting for him. Beyond the door, the light inside shined down on the lines of gold that ran through green walls. The shadows did not flicker. No sounds of elevator music came from inside. Nothing seemed wrong with the elevator box, but at the same time, something Takanuva could not put his finger on definitely seemed off.

It did not matter if it seemed off. The Toa of Light needed to get up to the Hall of Masks. Whatever way took him there, he would have to take it.

A single bell from within dinged, and the door closed. However, the box did not move. Takanuva looked around at the — suddenly maroonish-purple— walls in annoyance. Shouldn’t the elevator be taking him somewhere? Maybe Darkness was right and another way was a better option. The color change of the interior was an unsettling surprise, but he was not going to let that deter him. This elevator would take him to the Hall of Masks.

A light on the wall with the number four began to glow. Takanuva pressed it, and the elevator began to take him upwards. He smiled with satisfaction, his arrival to the fourth floor soon to come.

The elevator bell gave a resounding ding! as the doors opened. However, the floor the Toa had arrived at looked no different from the one he had just left. Frowning, he took a step towards exiting the elevator.

The Toa of Light paused mid-step. Something screamed in the back of his mind not to exit the elevator. Nothing around him looked wrong. Takanuva could not see any traps, but also something did not feel right about getting off at this floor. This was raw emotion from deep in the core of his mind, screaming, begging him not to get off the elevator. There was a certain sense about the fabric of the alternate universe of Tuyet’s empire, a feel about the very air, that was very different from his own home. This hallway in front of him had none of that same feel. The more Takanuva pondered it the more he felt as if he should not get off the elevator.

What do I do then? The question echoed in his mind.

As if in response to his thoughts, another button on the wall panel began to glow. Floor two. Takanuva pushed it, and the doors closed again. The Toa of Light felt the elevator lurch and begin to descend. He was a little more worried than when he had originally stepped onto the elevator.

The same thing happened at floor two. Nothing was out there, but the Toa of Light felt as if it were simply not safe to get out of the elevator. The light for the sixth floor glowed to life, and he hit it.

The elevator took Takanuva to several more empty floors, where his intuition told him not to get off. After the sixth floor was reached, the light for the second floor lit up. This was followed by the tenth floor lighting up, and then the fifth floor. Takanuva pressed each of these, hoping it was a secret code to access the Hall of Masks, but after the handful, he suspected there was something else at play. Takanuva paused before pressing the lit button for the fifth floor. Looking around he was equally annoyed as he was anxious.

“Whoever or whatever you are behind all of this, I have a mission,” he told the elevator, concerned as he voiced his thoughts. “I do not have the time to play your game.”

He hit the button for the fifth floor, and the elevator shuddered as it began to move. The lights flashed once or twice. The colors of the elevator walls changed again, flashing to a blue and then back to the maroonish- purple shade that they were. Something else rumbled through the elevator as well, the phantom of an emotion which left Takanuva from saying anything more.

He expected the fifth floor to be empty, just as all of the others were. But the door opened to the sight of a smiling Ga-Matoran, who walked into the elevator and turned to stand next to the Toa of Light. Macku! Takanuva thought as he recognized the noble Kanohi Huna on her face.

“Hello there,” she said. Takanuva relaxed at the comforting voice of his Ga-Matoran friend. No matter what dimension he came to, Macku had almost always been there, a certain guide to help beings from another dimension. To see her here— regardless of how corrupted this Tuyet-ruled universe was— brought him relief.

He was about to respond when he saw her reflection in the elevator door. The silvery protodermic material did twist and contort his own Kanohi, due to the nature of the reflective surface. However, observing Macku’s reflection, Takanuva knew something was off. Her height was no longer that of around Takanuva’s thigh— she seemed to be standing shoulder to shoulder with the Toa.

The mask that reflected in the surface of the elevator seemed to be twisted and contorted, yes, but there was more. It seemed to be spiked and wild, the mask bending and appendages coming out in places where Takanuva was sure they couldn’t be, even in a trick reflection. Whatever he was looking at… seemed almost devilish.

The reflection of her eyes flashing to a dark glowing red— a deeper crimson than the Makuta’s eyes— made him decide it was best not to answer.

The button for floor one lit up. Takanuva hit it with as much haste as he could. He didn’t even care as the elevator lurched and went upward. He just wanted to get moving.

The fear and worry that had washed over the Toa earlier was far more than anything he had felt from the Turahk’s staff or Makuta’s fear on his island home of Mata Nui. Those were simulated, artificial doses of fear. But the chilling fear and worry that he encountered from the elevator was incredibly real.

And Macku— or whatever it was next to him— brought Takanuva sheer terror.

The first floor button brought them to the tenth floor. As the door opened, Takanuva completely ignored the impulses and screams for him to stay on the elevator. He forced those voices down, using the calming power of the Kanohi Avohkii on himself, and stepped clear out of the elevator.

“Where are you going?” asked the Macku-that-was-not-Macku. Takanuva ignored her as the doors shut.

As the doors closed, he spun. Three elevators faced him— the one he had departed from on the left, another two directly to his right. The floor numbers on top of all three elevators, even the one Takanuva had migrated from, were dark and unchanging. Upon closer inspection, the symbols for the floors were all written in reverse, as if they were being looked at from a mirror.

Macku-that-was-not-Macku was simply sitting behind that door on the left, waiting for him. He could not explain it, but Takanuva could feel it in his armor.

Some internal force pulled him along as he walked the tenth floor. Hopefully this is the Hall of Masks, and I have simply gotten up here quicker than Darkness. Takanuva walked silently, his lance tight in his hand. The marble of the hallway echoed as his armored feet paced.

After a while though, Takanuva began to think there was nobody here. No security, no masks, not even people. The halls were devoid of weaponry, carvings, even artwork. There was a certain feel about the place, a general vibe that was not Tuyet’s empire dimension. It was the same feeling he had experienced in the elevator— a creeping sensation along the back of his neck, a shadow escaping the corner of his eye, a shudder along his armor— but amplified tenfold. A faint red aura hung about the place that made Takanuva think the elevator— or whatever it was— had led him into a totally different reality.

As he rounded a corner, he saw a window looking out into the city. Takanuva approached it, looking down into the vast sprawl of Metru Nui cityscapes. The place was incredibly still. No battle or rebellion was outside on the ground. No armies marched throughout the streets. No Matoran, no Rahi, not even the sea beyond seemed to move.

The one thing that Takanuva did discern in the city came from the sky. A red cross like shape, which was casting its red, hellish glow, hovered in the sky, unmoving still.

It was like looking at a picture of the city. Everything was still and peaceful, but there was something wrong about it. With no people, no movement, no nothing at all but that red, shining cross shape, there was an impression about the place that Takanuva could not describe which felt off.

Whatever it was, it struck another bout of fear in Takanuva in this latest experience of terror. It frightened him in a way similar to how a Muaka cat was frightened when a villager would shove a flaming branch into its maw. Whatever hellish place this was, it repulsed Takanuva, made him want to whimper out loud and run away. The stillness of the city and the red of the light felt as if he was experiencing a very poisoned version of his home.

Takanuva needed to get back. Even if it wasn’t his home dimension, the alternate Metru Nui with Tuyet was far greater comfort than whatever this place was. He whirled, tripping and stumbling as he strode towards the elevators which he had come from.

He came to the elevator lobby and paused, frantically looking at the three elevators. Even though he was away from the window, the red glow bathed faintly over everything. It was burned into the Toa of Light’s corneas.

He wanted to take another elevator rather than the one he had come up on. The other elevators would help him avoid the devil, that monster in the guise of Macku. But his intuition— which had not led him into actual harm yet— reminded him of advice he had learned what seemed not so long ago. In the tales of the Toa Metru, when fleeing the city to find a refuge for the Matoran, the then Toa of Air had approached a crossroads within the Great Barrier. Go left, Matau had insisted to his comrades. Going right had met with disaster and challenges that had almost gotten the group killed. But going left… as much as it seemed improbable that had been the safer path.

Going left would take him back into the elevator with the monster. But what could the other elevators possibly lead him to?

Not wanting to find out, Takanuva pressed the button for the left most elevator. As his finger drew away, he noticed that the symbol for it was backwards, just like the lights above the elevators.

The door opened, and the Toa of Light slid in, trying his hardest not to acknowledge the too cheery Matoran standing beside him.

Buttons on the elevator lit up, and Takanuva pressed them, curious as to where the elevator was taking him now. After a few floor selections, Takanuva noticed that it was the reverse order that he had originally pressed them in. Hopefully that meant he was heading back from whatever place he was in. Standing beside him, whom he still ignored with all of his might, was the shape and form of Macku, still silently humming.

Takanuva could not wait longer for the fifth floor doors to open up. When it did, he knew “Macku” would leave, and he could take the rest of the elevator ride alone.

He expected “her” to leave silently. Once the doors to the fifth floor opened, “she” took a step forward. Takanuva could have almost cried from relief as he felt “her” leaving his side.

But “she” stopped half way through “her” stride, just as the Toa of Light had done earlier. “She” did not look at him, but at the same time he could feel the neck straining and twisting towards his direction. Takanuva avoided the gaze of the Matoran shaped thing— because that was definitely not Macku— at all costs.

“It is really a shame,” Macku’s voice called. However, Takanuva almost jumped toward the back of the elevator box as he heard another voice as well. A contorted, twisted sound—that may have been one voice or several hundred or several thousand— spoke underneath the comforting tone of the Ga-Matoran’s cheery tone. It was nothing like the friendly tone she had spoken to him with, but at the same time it was. There was an accursed underlayer of the voice, one that spoke to Takanuva from not just the Matoran’s mouth but all corners of the elevator.

“I really thought you would stay longer,” the thing-in-Macku’s-form said in hundreds of thousands of voices as she left the elevator.

The doors closed, and Takanuva slouched against the wall, utterly spooked by the voice. She was gone now, and he was away from whatever she was, but something stuck with him in those nefarious undertones that he could not shake.

The light for floor one lit up. Takanuva stared at it for a second, before hitting it.

The elevator began to move upwards. He knew where it was taking him.

“No!” he yelled in the closed box. His sobs of relief from moments earlier were turning to cries of distraught. He hit the button for floor one again, even though it did not light up. “I am done playing your game. Take me back. To where I came from this time!”

The elevator grated to a halt briefly, as if to consider his words. Takanuva glared at the empty air front of him, hoping to stare down whatever was doing this.

Then slowly, very slowly, the elevator began to move again.

The doors opened at the first floor, and Takanuva barely breathed as he felt a whoosh of breeze fill the elevator box. He could not believe his eyes as he peered out of the doors, seeing the hallways of the Coliseum before him. He examined the walls, everything outside, before stepping out.

Yes, this was Tuyet’s dimension. He did not know how he had gotten back here, but somehow he had managed to return from where he had been.

Takanuva turned around to look once more at the elevator doors, not having heard them close. To his disbelief, he only saw a blank wall. There was no elevator, or even any indication of one having ever existed. Only a blank wall, its marbled surface grey and unrevealing. A shiver went up his spine.

Takanuva turned back to the hall. Probably for the only time in his life, began to run towards the comfort of Darkness.

***

Bionicle crossed with a story from ghostinmymachine.com, a website that deals with legit paranormal stuff found in the world.

https://theghostinmymachine.com/2014/06/25/the-most-dangerous-games-elevator-to-another-world/ 

Just an experiment in crossing genres, something to get my creative juices flowing. Definitely a rough write.

#bionicle #bonkle #writing #crossover #write off #writing exercise #paranormal #just beware the link it may contain some sensitive frightening stuff

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter One: The Social Season Begins

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is my first multiple chapter fic! I was heavily inspired by Netflix’s Bridgerton, but I do not intend to stick to its script. The show and the fic are meant to be seat during the early 19th century (1810 -1830) so a lot of things like technology will not be present. Also, this is a quirkless au so no one is going to posses any powers. I plan for this fic to be between 8 and 12 chapters, but we’ll see as we go along. I hope you all enjoy <3!

Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9K

When social season rolled around, all bets were off. The most vicious of claws and fangs were disguised by beautiful dresses and headpieces, followed by the batting of eyelashes and the oh so precarious movements of feathered fans. It happened every year - hundreds of Musutafu’s young ladies braved the social scene in the pursuit of a husband either of their own status or higher. This year was no exception, in fact, it was shaping up to be one of the most influential seasons to date. Several of the most eligible and prestigious lords, viscounts, and barons would be attending the numerous balls that were in the works. While it was expected of the young women to pair up and find a love-match, such relationships always proved to be half-successful. Of course they would be married and well taken care of, but too often did you hear of wives maintaining an empty manor whilst their husbands were off gallivanting at their clubs, or more likely, at brothels. This proved to be your biggest fear - you wanted the beautiful relationship your parents had. The one where your father doted on your mother, bringing her flowers on random days because he happened to see them and think of her. One where he dutifully raised their children together, never once undermining her abilities due to her gender. And one where, right up until her very last breath, he held her hand and whispered sweet nothings to her. It was a sorrowful day when your mother died, but your father carried on in her place, raising you and your elder brother in the most proper and loving way he could. This encouraged you to go forth with your head held high. You would find the one you were meant to be with and not just be a part of a silly little love-match.

“Oh Lady Yagi, you look absolutely wonderful.” With a deep breath you met your eyes in the mirror in front of you and let out a little gasp. The dress you were wearing was utterly gorgeous. It was a very pale blue, even lighter than the powder blue that covered your bedroom walls, and had the most beautiful little detailed flowers scattered across it. There weren’t enough to mistake you with a garden, but there were plenty there to compare you to the most gorgeous dogwood. The necklace that lay across your neck was much daintier than what others tended to wear but you adored it - after all, it was your mother’s. And resting softly on your head was a matching tiara with both diamonds and light blue sapphires.

“My, Mei, you have simply outdone yourself.” You whisper. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of your reflection, the twinkles and glimmers of the jewels doing wonders to accentuate your features.

“Lady Yagi, how you make me swoon,” Mei exclaims, feigning a faint. You giggle at her and swat her gently with your fan. The two of you make small talk as she adds finishing details to your look; smoothing out hairs here and there, clipping in your diamond earrings, and slipping your silk gloves onto your hands.

“Y/N, my sister, we must be heading off!” A call echoed from just outside your room, coming from the main hall downstairs.

“And not a moment too soon, my nerves have been getting the best of me.” You say, a wide smile covering your face. You descended upon the grand staircase to see both your father and your elder brother waiting for you.

“My word! Y/N, my darling, you look divine!” Your father exclaimed, walking forward to place a ghost kiss to your cheek, not daring to mess up Mei’s handiwork. You smiled at your father and looked at your brother.

“Izuku, you look quite dashing.” You tell him, earning a grin from his freckled face. “Hoping to see Lady Uraraka this evening?” A blush quickly covered his face.

“Well, yes, she had told me she would be attending earlier when we took a promenade around- hold on, this is your special evening we need to be discussing.” Izuku says, switching the topic onto you. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took his arm as the three of you made your way into the horse-drawn carriage waiting for you in front of your house. The three of you entered, your father and brother careful of your long dress, and then you were off.

“So my dear, are you excited? Nervous?” Your father asks. You smile and inspect your gloved hands.

“Both. I just wish…” you trail off. Your father leans down to meet your gaze with slight concern in his eyes.

“Wish what?” He says, urging you to continue. A small sigh escapes your mouth as you look back up.

“Father, you have done wonderfully to raise both Izuku and I without Mother here. I think both of us agree on that fact.” You begin. Izuku nods and offers the both of you a grin. “I just wish that she was here. To tell me of what she was feeling when she debuted, how she calmed the churning in her stomach.” You confess, your hands now clenched. You were met with a sad smile from your father.

“How I wish for that as well, my dear. She would always tell me how excited she was for you to embark on your own marital journey. And, while I in no means shared the same experience as she did, I can tell you of what I was feeling.” He says. You look up, curiosity flashing in your eyes.

“Please,” you say, prompting him to tell you. He laughs and leans back on the leather seated cushion.

“Well I, like your brother, had an easy time finding the women we would want to spend the rest of our lives with.” Your father’s sentence earned a blush from Izuku, but no words of contention. I suppose we will be welcoming Lady Uraraka to our family soon, you thought smiling to yourself. “I was a nervous wreck, though, when my eyes found your mother. She was absolutely divine - like the gods had graced the earth specifically with her. She was quick to forgive my nerves and the slight stutter in my voice as I introduced myself to her, and things just seemed to run its own course from there.” You could see the wistful gaze in your father’s eyes as he thought of your mother. “Inko was a most gracious woman, both in mind and beauty. And those qualities, my dear, were passed on to you.” His hand came to cradle your cheek, brushing away the tears that started to well in your eyes. “But this is no time to be in despair, no, it is time to be quite the opposite than that. It’s time for you to find love.”

The carriage stopped rather abruptly, but you didn’t care. You gathered the train of your dress in your hand and were practically buzzing by the time the footmen opened the door. Your father stepped out first followed by Izuku, the latter of which offered a hand to you as you stepped out. The venue was absolutely gorgeous, and it was no surprise considering the man hosting it. Lord Takami was a rather benevolent and expressive man and those traits bled right into his events. With lanterns dotted all over the front steps and the ballroom, candles that seemed to float in midair, and the most magnificent smelling floral arrangements you had ever seen, you understood perfectly - this was what it must’ve felt like for your mother. Out of the corner of your eye, a pretty brunette started to drift towards you and your family, a bashful smile set across her face. Before you had a chance to speak, Izuku stepped in front of you and your father.

“Lady Uraraka, what a pleasure to see you here.” Your brother says, his hand extending to her gloved one.

“It’s truly all mine, My Lord.” She responds as a shy smile flickers across her face. Izuku spares you and your father a nod and a grin before he leads Lady Uraraka towards the middle of the floor, the two melting into the dance being performed seamlessly.

“Those two make such a divine and true love-match, don’t you agree Father?” You gush. Just seeing your brother so hopelessly in love was enough to make your heart flutter.

“I do, my dear,” he chuckles upon seeing your expression, “but we are not here to solely admire them. There will be plenty of time to do that at their wedding,” your father quips, earning a laugh from you. “Let’s get you introduced and dancing, hmm?” Your evening was full of re-introducing yourself to mutual acquaintances and establishing new ones in other young men. You made sure to only dance with those you felt could be a possible match for you, but as time went on you started to lose hope. It’s not that the men were horrid by any means - well, with the exception of one Lord Mineta - but nothing about them seemed to stir your heart. You currently found yourself in a most dull conversation with Baron Ojirou.

“Forgive me, Lord Ojirou, I must get some air. All of this dancing has made me quite light-headed,” you say, excusing yourself.

“Oh! Would you like me to accompany you, Lady Yagi?” He asks nicely. You raise your hand in denial but give him a light smile.

“There is no need. I wouldn’t want to impose on your evening, I will just be a few moments.” You say, slipping away to the outdoor gardens. It was dark, but the luminescence coming from inside Lord Takami’s manor provided enough light so that you could see. You made your way over to the stone railings that bordered the rose garden and held onto it with both of your gloved hands, heaving a sigh. “My goodness…” you whisper, heaving a sigh. The night air nipped a bit at your skin but you paid no mind to it. What does catch your attention, though, was the light footsteps that were approaching you from behind. “Lord Ojirou, as I said before, there is no need-” You begin, but stop immediately when you are met with someone else. He was much different than the man you had just been recently talking to - physically more reserved, taller, and much much handsomer. Even with the scar covering the left side of his face, his presence was enough to make a woman swoon. “Forgive me.” you manage, curtsying a bit.

“Oh, no, it is I who should be apologizing. Pardon my interruption on your… outing.” He says awkwardly. This earns a slight giggle from you. 

“This was merely a simple break from the clamor inside.” you say, relaxing a bit more. Before the man could say another word, you see Izuku catch your eye from the steps.

“Y/N! There you are, Father and I have been looking everywhere- Shouto?” Your brother says shocked, his eyes meeting the man across from you.

“Izuku?” He responds, bewilderment flickering across his face.

“My word, it’s been a while! How as your father, the Duke of Endeavor, faring these days?”

“D-Duke?” You stutter out, in awe of the man’s title. Izuku catches your confusion and gives you a smile. 

“Forgive me for not introducing you! Todoroki, this is me dear sister, Y/N.” The man, now known to you as Shouto Todoroki, gave you a quick nod. “Y/N, this is Shouto Todoroki. The son of the Duke.”

#Shoto #Shouto #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #bnha shoto #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x you #mha shouto x reader #shouto x y/n #shouto x you #shouto fluff #shouto fic #shouto fanfic #shouto fanfiction #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto fluff #shoto fanfiction #shoto fanfic #shoto fic #mha shouto todoroki #shouto torodoki #shouto todoroki x y/n #shoto todoroki x you #bnha shoto todoroki #mha #mha imagines #mha fluff #mha fanfiction

[i-like-plan-m]

So mxtx confirmed that wwx cultivates mxy vote back to the strength of his og one. Maybe one day him and lwj are training and wwx finally manages to beat him for the first time since getting his new body! Or wwx secretly cultivates it more and surprises lwj with how strong it is now! Either way lwj is definitely turned on by wwx beating him~

what!! i did not know that but makes me so happy 🥺[Posted to Ao3 here]

Lan Zhan walked the mountain path into the Cloud Recesses, tired from his travels but satisfied with the trip to Lanling, where Jin Ling had managed to look him squarely in the eye exactly twice during the week. An improvement, certainly, but still a source of bemusement for Lan Zhan. 

Why Jin Ling was so afraid of him he didn’t know; Wei Ying suggested it was his “absolutely terrifying resting bitch face,” but if that were the case then the actually insufferable sect leaders might leave him alone for once. 

Wei Ying would be delighted to hear his nephew had handled himself admirably at the conference of minor sects around Lanling. Lan Zhan had come in his capacity as Chief Cultivator to provide some level of extra authority and support, but also to hear the complaints and troubles the small sects faced. It had been Jin Ling’s idea, and one that bought him a great deal of goodwill from his neighbors. 

Now, though, Lan Zhan was going to go home, where his husband would be waiting for him. Where their home would be warm and lit with dozens of candles for light, the door left open in defiance of the descending cold to welcome him home. 

He had to pause, then, and take a breath. He was getting used to this fierce, almost painful feeling in his chest. Happiness was a foreign concept to him, and now it bled into every moment, brightened every day. It was overwhelming, sometimes, his heart full of hope and joy rather than anguish and grief.

Lan Zhan heard the sharp call of a whistle, and looked up to find the reason for his happiness standing on the rooftop, wearing white robes that made him look like a star descended from the sky, rays of moonlight cast lovingly across his features. 

“Wei Ying,” he said, a smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“Lan-er-gongzi,” Wei Ying said, and made Lan Zhan pause. Blink up at him in question. 

A smile spread across his husband’s face, sly and impish. Wei Ying lifted a hand to inspect the two bottles of Emperor’s Smile dangling from his grip. He shifted in place, and the sword in his hand caught the glint of moonlight with a bright flash. 

Lan Zhan’s breath caught, and he understood. 

This was an invitation. A repeat of history, of sorts, of a night that Lan Zhan would never forget. Except this one would be without the tragic ending-- one in which he would return to the jingshi with his husband, where they shared a life together. It took a moment for him to find his voice.

“Alcohol is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” he said sternly, and caught the flicker of delight across Wei Ying’s face when he realized Lan Zhan was going to play along. 

“Oh? What are you going to do about it?”

Lan Zhan leaped onto the rooftop, Bichen in hand. Wei Ying had been improving steadily as he cultivated Mo Xuanyu’s golden core, though he hadn’t been sparring with Lan Zhan often lately. He seemed to get frustrated with his inability to keep up, as though the limits of this new body were holding him back. 

This was an invitation, though, and not one Lan Zhan would ever turn down.

They stood on opposite sides of the rooftop, watching each other. Wei Ying’s playful smile softened at whatever he saw on Lan Zhan’s face. 

“Remember this, Lan Zhan?” He wiggled his eyebrows and waved the Emperor’s Smile tauntingly in the air. 

“I remember,” Lan Zhan said, and if his voice was thick with emotion neither of them mentioned it. 

“Oh? What happened next, then?” 

“We fought. You lost.” 

Wei Ying cocked his head. “Did I?”

“You did.” 

“Hm. That I don’t remember.” 

Lan Zhan’s mouth curved. “Convenient.” 

“Isn’t it?” Wei Ying agreed. “I do remember the bottle you smashed, though.”

“You told me to pay you back for it,” Lan Zhan said with fond remembrance of Wei Ying’s sheer audacity. “And then we fought.” 

“We did, didn’t we?” Wei Ying murmured. “You don’t seem so angry now, Lan Zhan. Think you can keep up?” 

Lan Zhan’s pulse quickened at the challenge in his husband’s voice, an automatic response to Wei Ying’s suggestive tone-- but also at the dare thrown at his feet, with the ceaseless moon as their only witness. 

It had been months since they’d last sparred. He looked forward to discovering Wei Ying’s progress. 

“Give me the bottles,” he said, drawing Bichen. 

Wei Ying grinned at him, sharp and defiant. “Come and take them.” 

Lan Zhan lunged. 

His husband had made more progress than he’d expected-- Wei Ying dodged the swing, twisted around on one foot with perfect balance, and danced away behind Lan Zhan’s back, all in the span of a few heartbeats. 

He’d always been fast, in this life and the previous. 

So was Lan Zhan. 

He followed Wei Ying across the rooftop with sharp focus, tracking the blindingly swift movements as Wei Ying darted in and out of reach, deflecting Lan Zhan’s advances with a still sheathed Suibian. 

“You’ve gotten slow in your old age, Lan Zhan!” He teased, and then squawked in outrage as the tip of Bichen slashed through the ties holding the two jars together. 

“What is your excuse?” Lan Zhan asked after catching the stray bottle in midair, silently delighted when Wei Ying threw his head back and laughed. 

“Alright, alright. I should stop messing around so much,” he said, grinning wide. “There’s a rule about that somewhere over there, right?” 

“Perhaps a few,” Lan Zhan said mildly; they both knew there were at least ten, and most of those were unsubtle references to Wei Ying’s past adventures at the Cloud Recesses. 

Wei Ying leaned down to set the bottle at his feet, patting it on the top like it was a pet. “You stay right there. I’ll be back in just a moment for you.” 

Lan Zhan’s pulse quickened as he slowly, pointedly drew Suibian from its sheath and set it aside. The blade glinted softly under the silver lights obscured by thin clouds from above, reflecting back onto Wei Ying’s face and casting shadows that made it hard to identify his features. 

For a moment, under the play of shadows across his face, he looked like that sixteen year old boy again, before the world had consumed everything he had, down to his very spirit. His face was his own again, long lost but never forgotten, and then Mo Xuanyu’s delicate features returned as the clouds passed. 

There was no disappointment. Lan Zhan had come to love this face as well. He would recognize any face that Wei Ying wore, because he knew and loved the spirit underneath better than his own.

Wei Ying gave him no warning. He moved like water, Yunmeng Jiang’s fluid sword style evident in every movement. Lan Zhan raised his sword in preparation, and met him halfway.

They clashed. Swords crossed. Eyes met. And Wei Ying winked before sending a burst of raw power into a sudden shove that sent Lan Zhan skidding backwards. 

Astonished, he stared at Wei Ying. Caught the determined expression on his husband’s face, and settled in for a real fight this time. If Wei Ying wanted a fight, Lan Zhan would give him one. It seemed as though Wei Ying had something to prove to Lan Zhan and, more importantly, himself. 

Few cultivators alive could match Lan Zhan’s brute strength and impossible reserves of stamina. Once, Wei Ying had been capable. Now, though, he wore Mo Xuanyu’s body, and it was smaller, with less muscle tone as his first body. 

But Wei Ying was quick and clever, and this body happened to also be young and flexible, unburdened by the aches and pains that had plagued him before his death. He’d clearly been training for some time; Lan Zhan could see significantly more muscle tone in his arms and legs, his training clearly paying off. 

They fought until they were both breathing hard, until the ring of clashing steel softened. They fought to a standstill, and when Suibian’s blade touched his throat just as Bichen’s stopped at Wei Ying’s, Lan Zhan pressed his free hand to Wei Ying’s abdomen and stared at him with wide, wet eyes. 

Wei Ying smiled. 

“Your core is…” Lan Zhan trailed off, too choked up to continue. 

“As strong as it ever was?” Wei Ying asked, lowering Suibian with a beaming smile. 

“How?” Lan Zhan asked helplessly, sliding Bichen into the sheath on his back so he could cup his hands around Wei Ying’s beloved face and rest their foreheads together. 

“I had to start from scratch,” Wei Ying said. “You know that.” Lan Zhan managed a nod. “Once the tiny baby Lans stopped outpacing me, I enlisted A-Yuan and Lan Jingyi’s help. Then Wen Ning, and finally Zewu-Jun.” 

“My brother?” Lan Zhan asked, wondering if this was why Lan Xichen had been smiling at him so often lately, like he knew something Lan Zhan didn’t. Clearly he had. 

“Yeah.” Wei Ying turned his head enough to press a kiss to Lan Zhan’s palm. “I wanted to surprise you, so I had to practice with someone on your level. With Wen Ning and Lan Xichen’s help, I figured out which way to hold a sword again, and then strengthened my golden core enough to make it actually matter.”

His golden core was strong again. The unspoken hung between them-- Lan Zhan would not outlive his husband by decades. Wei Ying had cultivated Mo Xuanyu’s underdeveloped core to incredible heights so Lan Zhan would never be alone like before, achieving the impossible once again. 

Happiness became joy, and Lan Zhan was helpless to do anything but kiss him, cloaked in moonlight and memories. 

...

LQR looking outside to see them chasing each other around on the rooftops: not this again. 

LXC watching w/ hearts in his eyes: it’s called romance, uncle

#the untamed #mdzs #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #post canon #prompts #asks #anon #my fics #my writing

[bellshells]

Nobody Can Know Part Four

It’s here! The finale of Nobody Can Know! This was actually really emotional for me, 52, 540 words later and this fic has come to an end. I have had the absolute best time writing this and I must send a massive shout out to @hinagiku0 for requesting this in the first place. I do have a bonus chapter in the works set in between parts two and three, but no time frame as to when that will be finished. Thank you to everyone who has come on this journey with me, and thank you to everybody who has liked, reblogged and taken the time to send me your kind words. You’ve made this aspiring writer very happy indeed. Thank you. 

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin Reader Warnings: Language, Angst, Blood, Smoking, Alcohol, Smut Summary: Christmas has come faster than anyone could have anticipated, but with everything so up in the air; it’s impossible to celebrate. The promise of a break away may give everyone the clarity they need.  Word Count: 17.4k+

“No, you can’t. That’s- no. I won’t let you.”

  George looked at you with a look of utter desperation, it made you ache. You bit the inside of your cheek to distract from the pain in your heart, it didn’t work. He shook his head and wiped at his face as a tear rolled down his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, George. I just need to think.” You whispered, you longed to reach for him, to comfort him; but your mind was made up. “I need some time away.”

  “Why? Love listen, please just talk to me. Tell me what to do.” George begged, he grasped your hand across the table and squeezed tightly. “I’ll do anything.”

You smiled sadly; you knew he would; he would do anything in that moment to keep you there. But was that enough?

  “I know George, I just feel…honestly I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. I just need to get away from everything so I can sort myself out.”   “From me?”   “From you, from the shop, everything!” You answered tersely, you didn’t mean to be blunt with him, you were uncomfortable seeing George distressed. But he needed to understand that you wouldn’t be swayed.   “Do you still love me?” He asked, his face twisted in agony as you pulled your hand away and placed it in your lap.   “That’s never in question.” You stood and walked around the table to where George sat, he looked at you expectantly as you bent down. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll send you an owl when I’m settled, so you know how to reach me if anything happens.”   “Where will you go?”   “A friends.”

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

  Cokeworth was probably the most depressing place you had ever set foot in. The industrial town was still dirty from the smoke that the chimney of the old mill had puffed out. While in recent years it had ceased in its emission, the last century’s worth of grime had remained strong. It was a bleak, often sad reminder of the proletariat forefathers of the current upper working-class families who had purchased the many two-bed terraced houses for good rail links to Birmingham and Wolverhampton. You could never have imagined that Professor Snape lived somewhere like that, but really, you couldn’t imagine Professor Snape living anywhere other than Hogwarts. You had seen his office on many occasions, it was to be expected really; full of dusty books and rolled up pieces of parchment. It always smelled distinctly of cedarwood and myrrh, a scent you had almost absolutely convinced yourself that it was Professor Snape himself who smelled of such. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t dwell much on the last few days, instead you would take this time for yourself. You wanted to be kind to yourself for once, to just be you. You weren’t looking forward to the quiet though, your life had never been quiet.

  You walked for what felt like miles, all the streets looked the same, each house identical. It was disorientating, the numbers screwed on to each door seemed to ascend and descend in whichever way they liked. You were about to give up and go back the way you came until a little white sign on the side of a house on the corner of the street caught your eye; it had an arrow pointing in the opposite direction with SPINNERS END  written across it. You breathed a sigh of relief and started off in the direction dictated by the sign. 69, 67, 65- it was 65 wasn’t it? You pulled the crumpled bit of paper Professor Snape left you from your pocket and looked from the words there, to the grey wooden door in front of you.

If you are in need, you need only knock

  You knocked once on the door, you heard a click of a lock from the inside and it swung open slowly. There it was again, that smell. It was almost overpowering as you took a hesitant step into the house. From what you could see, it was immaculately clean. You dropped your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and removed your heavy cloak from around your shoulders, hanging it over the bannister. The walls of the hallway were a dark green, but this didn’t surprise you. You would have been incredibly shocked it you had entered Professor Snape’s house and the walls had been painted magenta and mustard. You smirked at the idea and followed the hallway round to a room on the right, it looked like it should be a lounge. The walls were lined with books, every surface was littered with them too. There was a well-worn leather armchair in one corner with a drink’s cabinet close by. A table sat in the middle of the room and on the opposite side, a two-seat sofa. The leather of the sofa looked intact, like not a soul had ever sat on it. Whilst you knew that was near impossible, your heart ached for the lonely man who owned this house. Nobody should lead as solitary a life as this.

  You looked for a moment, long the lines and lines of books. Some looked to be incredibly old indeed, some without a dent in the hard spines. There were books in languages you didn’t know and some you recognised as classics in the muggle world. You ran your finger across the spines and sighed, you could imagine clearly that Professor Snape had read each and every one of them. You could see him in his chair, one leg crossed over the other- book in one hand and cigarette in the other. You smiled at the image you had created, you hoped he was happy here. You made your way out of the sitting room and back into the dark hallway, the stairs had a cupboard underneath them, the door painted the same green as the walls. You noticed a glimpse of the kitchen through a door which sat ajar, you pushed it open and stepped through. There were more books, many sat on the small dining table that sat in the corner. It was old, it reminded you pews at Hogwarts in its shape. The kitchen itself was cramped, although it had all the amenities one might expect, the claustrophobic closeness of the cupboards did nothing but remind you of the tiny kitchen in your flat. You walked over to the cupboards and opened them one by one, mugs and glasses, plates and bowls (four of each) and then one full of non-perishables. You laughed slightly at the tins of baked beans and scotch broth, a tin of rice pudding sat further forward on the shelf, as if picked out and then placed back.  

  You opened up a low cupboard next to the fridge and exhaled in relief at the sight of instant coffee, you pulled it out and unscrewed the lid. Giving the coffee a big sniff, you decided it was good enough to drink and sought to put the kettle on. After you had found the sugar and cutlery, you poured the contents of a tin of tomato soup into a pan and lit the cooker. Satisfied with your level of domesticity achieved, you placed your coffee and soup onto a tray and levitated it behind you into the sitting room. You scoured the books for something to read, and finally settled on a dusty black jacketed book called Dracula. The image of the author; a gentleman named Bram Stoker was still and aged, you could but assume this was a muggle book and you secretly relished in the simplicity of it. You settled into Professor Snape’s well-loved armchair and ate your soup quickly, quietly cursing when you burnt your tongue. You devoured the novel, your coffee forgotten until you squealed at the un-dead return of Lucy Westenra. You heart raced and you laughed, having fully immersed yourself in this novel. It was exhilarating. Your coffee was now cold as you brought it to your lips, and you yawned. It was dark outside now, but, in the deep December that could mean it was about five o’clock. Looking over your shoulders as if someone could catch you at any moment, you reached for the handle of the drink’s cabinet and marvelled at the assortment of alcohol stored within. You reached greedily for a bottle of port and padded into the kitchen for a glass, it was then you noticed a scrap of parchment next to the sink.

  (Y/N), it read in Professor Snape’s neat script,

Welcome, if you have decided to stay. I have left some muggle money on my desk in the second bedroom upstairs, along with an almanac of the values of it. There is some food in the cupboards, please feel free to help yourself to it. I am not expecting anybody to arrive, so please do not let anybody inside the house. I would be very much appreciative of that. You may write to me if you wish, I would like to know if you are there. Have a Merry Christmas.

Best,

Severus

  You raced up the narrow stairs of Professor Snape’s house, port and glass forgotten. The landing was small and had three doors that lead from there. One you assumed was the bathroom, you hoped it was as clean as the rest of the house. You continued to the next door along and opened it, Professor Snape’s personal study before you. You walked into the body of the room, absolutely in awe. He had enchanted the ceiling to reflect the night sky, the moon high above and stars twinkled through the heavy clouds. You stood for a moment and appreciated the craftmanship of this, it was silent in this room and the serenity of the night sky filled you with a sense of calm you hadn’t felt for the longest while. By the only window in the room sat his desk, it was surprisingly non-cluttered with minimal books. True to his note, there was an envelope marked Money. It was a curious thing, you peeked inside and found coins but also paper money too. What would muggles do if the paper money floated away? From the cursory glance you gave Professor Snape’s deconstruction of the value of each piece it seemed the paper money, or ‘notes’ as he called them were of greater value than the coins. But the coins together equalled the sum of notes. It was all very confusing, so you popped the envelope back on the desk and opened up the small drawer on top, thankful to find some parchment.

  The feel of Professor Snape’s quill in your hand was foreign and took some getting used to. You wrote two letters in total, one to Professor Snape to let him know you had arrived and to thank him again for his hospitality. He really had gone over and above what you had dared hope, and you sunk further into his debt. The other letter, was to George. Could it really only be a few hours since you had last seen him? You ignored the glassy state of your eyes as you sealed the letter and opened the window. A small silver whistle hung on a chain attached the inside of the sill, it had an owl in flight intricately engraved on the side. It was really quite beautiful, it glistened in the moonlight of the room and felt heavy in your hand. You brought the cold metal to your lips and blew once, but no sound came from the whistle. You looked desperately into the blackness of the street, the only light was the flickering streetlamp; only one was working and that one looked ready to be condemned. You noticed a speck in the distance, it grew bigger as it flew toward you. Your heart leapt at the sight of the black owl that fluttered its wings as it settled on the windowsill.   “This one first.” You instructed the owl as you offered the letter addressed to Professor Snape to it, it presented its leg and you fumbled in the drawers of Professor Snape’s desk for some string. “Fucking fuck fuck, where’s the fucking string?” You cursed, the owl gave an indignant hoot, and you made a face to it. Upon finding the string, you attached both letters to the owl’s legs and watched as it flew into the night.

  You trapsed back down the stairs and collected you dirty dishes and washed them in the sink. You yawned, fuck, you didn’t realise how tired you were until you caught your eyes closing of their own accord as you stood aimlessly in the kitchen. You collected your bag and made your way back up the stairs to the bathroom. You hadn’t expected a bachelor to take such good care of his home; the bathroom smelled strongly of bleach and the toilet was so clean you could’ve eaten your dinner off of it. No shower, you thought. Not a bit of wonder really, especially when you considered how old these houses were. You were thankful though, that Professor Snape must have charmed the brick somehow to keep the heat in, you wouldn’t even know where to start switching a radiator on. You decided against having a bath, it was far too late, and you didn’t fancy accidentally drowning to death as you inevitably fell asleep. You changed and popped your dirty clothes into the empty washing basket in the bathroom, making a mental note to write to Professor Snape and ask for instructions on how to use the washing machine. You felt a pang of loneliness as you walked across the empty landing, you and George never went to bed alone and you had missed his usual night-time burst of energy as you would get under the covers. It usually resulted in you making love for a few hours until you both passed out from exhaustion. No- you wouldn’t think about that.

  You pondered what to do. There was one bed. You hadn’t spared a second thought to the idea that Professor Snape had turned his second bedroom into a study, you cursed yourself as you stood in your knickers and stared at his wide bed. The bedding was black, of course and looked inviting in your sleepy state. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t appropriate for you to sleep in his bed, certainly not. You imagined how enraged he would be if he found out you had slept in his bed. But, he had let you stay here. Surely, he knew you would need to sleep? Maybe he thought you would have a sleeping bag, or even a blanket and you could sleep on the sofa that looked like it had never been sat on. You shook your head and chuckled, what a nightmare. Resigned, you pulled back the covers of Severus Snape’s bed and climbed in. You decided you would find your way to the town centre tomorrow and buy a pillow and a blanket and sleep on the sofa. But tonight, well one night wouldn’t hurt. You had imagined Professor Snape would sleep in a coffin, or perhaps a bed of nails in your youth. You hadn’t considered a large spongy bed, with brushed cotton sheets and pillows so soft your head could sink through them. The sheets smelled of freshly washed linen and you wondered if he had cleaned his house for you coming, you were grateful if he had and impressed if he hadn’t. Your eyes were heavy and closed almost instantly, you pulled the covers tight to your chest and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

********

  You were awoken by the sound of scratching. You opened your eyes and were confused for a moment why there wasn’t a sleeping redhead next to you. It had been three days since you had arrived in Spinner’s End and you felt almost at home now. You had a routine, you would wake up and have a bath, have some breakfast and read. You had managed to find the muggle supermarket and filled the cupboards full to burst. You often found yourself falling asleep in Professor Snape’s armchair. The evening would breach the windows of the living room, and you would drift away. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t particularly exciting either. You felt the same pang of loneliness you’d felt the night before as you sat slowly and sighed. The black owl tapped its beak impatiently on the bedroom window, you rose unsteadily and pulled a t-shirt out of your open bag. The owl didn’t wait for you to let it in as you opened the window, it swooped into the room and landed on the bed, kicking it’s legs, like you hadn’t already noticed the letters tied to it.   “I haven’t got any treats for you, sorry.” You said as you attempted to untie the letters, at least, if the owl stayed still for a second. You finally prised the letters away and the owl flew out the way it had come. The morning air was freezing, more snow had fallen in the night and the whole street was bathed in an eerily white blanket. There were a few children already out in the street, their parents scraping ice from the windows of their cars. People still need to work, you supposed, regardless of how close it was to Christmas. You closed the window and climbed back into bed, it was still warm under the covers and you settled in to read your letters.

(Y/N), the first one read.

Glad to hear you have settled in. Yes, you may help yourself to some of the drinks in the cabinet, but if you touch my Lagavulin with your grubby little hands, I shall know.

You snorted as you read that. You inched deeper into the bed, craving more warmth.

I’ll be in London for New Year, believe me, it’s as much an inconvenience to you as it is to me. So, whilst you are more than welcome to stay in my house, be prepared for my arrival on 31st December. If you wish to stay until then, I will require you to buy food. Please let me know what you decide to do well ahead of time.

Best,

Severus

That was the third time he had signed off by using Severus and not Professor Snape or Professor S. Snape, Head of Slytherin House Hogwarts, Potions Master, Surprisingly Nice Person as you had almost expected him to. So, he was coming back for New Year? Blanket and pillows were definitely on your agenda for the day. You picked up the other letter. You knew it was from George and you felt a sinking feeling in your gut as you fingered the envelope. You weren’t really expecting a reply, you told him you had arrived safe and you’d write him again soon. You weren’t sure what in the letter you sent actually required a response.

My darling, George wrote.

I’m chuffed to hear you’ve settled in wherever you are. I’d like to think you’re being looked after, but I know you don’t need anyone to look after you. I really miss you, gorgeous. I know there’s not much I can say that I didn’t already say yesterday, but I would have felt like an absolute git if I didn’t tell you again. I’m not going to ask you to come home if you’re not ready, but I wanted to let you know that me and Fred are heading to mum’s for Christmas. Couldn’t quite face it in the flat without you. So, if you decide you want to come home for Christmas, you know where we are. I love you, (Y/N). I’ll do anything to show you that.

All my love forever, George xxx

P.S. I noticed you didn’t take any of your tampons with you, just say the word and I’ll send them to you. Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, love x

  You shot out of bed like a rocket. Your tampons? Oh fuck. You raced across the landing to the loo and as you sat down, you saw the same sight that had been staring you in the face for weeks.

Nothing. Nothing in your knickers.

You were late. More than late, it had been far more than a week ago since you were due on and yet, with all the stress of the last few days you had forgotten all about it. You sank onto the bathroom floor and cried. Big, mournful tears and sobs that wracked your whole chest. This couldn’t be, this wasn’t to be your life. With a sniff of resolution, you stood from the floor and looked at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t realised how haggard you looked. There were dark circled under your eyes and your face was pale and gaunt. You ran a finger across your cheek and felt the hardness of your cheekbone that jutted out further than it ever had before. Merlin, you were far too young for any of this. In the year that you had spent being George’s girlfriend you had had more strife than you could have possibly imagined. Quite frankly, you thought, you had taken it like a champ. But this just seemed one ordeal too far. You were alone, alone and hiding in Severus fucking Snape’s house from your boyfriend. No family, no friends, nothing.  No, no more.

******

  You hadn’t been to this part of London before. You were quite shocked when she suggested meeting you here, you hadn���t anticipated she was one for the theatre. As you stared up at Her Majesty’s Theatre, the bright still photographs of the show stared back at you. A woman, with long curly hair in a pink dress seemed frightened as a masked man with dark hair loomed behind her. What utter drivel you thought, who would pay money to see this? You rubbed your hands together, now significantly warmer with your new gloves you had bought on your way into London; and scoured the busy street for her. You were starting to think she wasn’t coming when you saw an emerald green cape swish in your periphery.   “There you are! Merlin, I was beginning it think you were taking the piss out of me.” You said as you wrapped her into a warm hug.   “Never,” Pansy smirked, she pulled away from you and gazed intently at your face. “You look terrible mate.”   “Thank you dear, you are nothing if not horrendously honest.” You looked at Pansy with a sly smirk. It felt so wonderful to see her again, her arm entwined easily with yours as you started back toward Leicester Square. “Why did you want to meet in front of that theatre?” You asked.   “Oh, I saw the show last week with my parents and it’s an easy location, tucked out the way a bit yet still in central London.” Pansy seemed to have blossomed in the time since you had last seen her. her hair had grown long and glossy, and she was pretty, very pretty.   “You? You saw a musical?” You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. Pansy rolled her eyes and pushed you playfully.   “Don’t judge unless you’ve seen one yourself. The music is to die for.” She smirked and lead you up a busy street. “Do you want to look at the Christmas Markets?” Pansy asked as she picked up a bauble from a nearby stall and inspected it. You wondered if it was a mistake to meet in such a crowded place so close to Christmas but, as she had reminded you, less chance of bumping into somebody you know.   “Actually Pans, I need to talk to you.” You replied, she nodded and lead you across the square to a café, all of the tables were either taken or dirty. You both looked over your shoulders as you pointed your wand at a table in the corner and the dirty mugs and plates stacked and ended up on the next table over. “What do you want? I have muggle money.” You said as you reached into your purse and pulled out one of the paper notes; you remembered they were worth more than the coins. Pansy looked from the paper note in your hand and to your face and burst out laughing. “What?!” You demanded. Onlookers from other tables began to stare in your direction as Pansy doubled over laughing.   “Oh, fucking hell, (Y/N). You are so clueless.” She managed through her giggles. “You’re going to pay for two coffees with a fifty-pound note?”   “Is that wrong?” You asked bewildered, surely it was right to take the biggest one?   “Merlin, just put that back in your purse before someone steals it out of your hand and I’ll get the coffees.” Pansy replied, you could see her shoulders still bobbing up and down with laughter even as she queued for your drinks. You couldn’t help but smile too, it had been so long since you had seen her last, too long.

  Pansy ended up taking longer than you anticipated ordering drinks. Your stomach began to rumble, and you felt sick. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, you needed to speak to Pansy about the situation. You had nobody else to turn to. You stared aimlessly out of the window at the last- minute Christmas shoppers frantically move from shop to shop. You wondered if George would have taken the things you had bought for his family back to the shops, or if he would have wrapped them terribly and dished them out. You cringed at the idea of Molly seeing George’s wrapping and thinking it was yours. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of gold and a suitcase whizz pass the window. Your heart raced as you made eye contact with him, Mundungus Fletcher. Behind him he pulled a trolley you saw old ladies carry their shopping in full of tat. He raised a ringed hand up and waved at you through the glass, a sneer fixed on his stupid face. You reached for your wand, but he was too fast, he weaved through the crowd and was gone. You searched for him wildly with your eyes, you craned your neck to try and see further, but it was no use. He had disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You tried to quell the hatred that bubbled under your skin and took a deep breath.   “Who was that?” Pansy asked as she set a tray on the table. She passed you your coffee and a slice of cake and put the tray on the floor.   “Nobody.” You muttered. You thanked her and took a sip, you grimaced as you swallowed it. Muggle coffee was terrible, watery and bland. It made you long for home, the kitchen staff at your parent’s house were always at the top of their game. It had spoiled you really, you had made such an effort to learn how to do everything yourself. You wouldn’t be one of them. You refused.   “What did you want to talk about?” Pansy said as she shovelled a forkful of cake into her mouth. You bit your lip; you didn’t know how to say it. “Oi, you haven’t dragged me all the way to London just for a coffee so talk.”   “I’m late.”   “What do you mean?”   “My period’s late.”

  Pansy’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth; her eyes wide with shock. You tapped on the table nervously and glanced over your shoulder. You would be mortified if you found yourself in another situation like the one of the last few days.   “How long?”   “Nearly two weeks now that I think about it.”   “Shit.”   “What do I do, Pansy?” Your eyes brimmed with tears as you watched your friends face flit between emotions. Pansy’s usually stern face softened, she ran a hand over her beautifully quaffed hair and sighed.   “Have you been to St. Mungo’s?” She asked, you shook your head.   “I didn’t know I had to. I only realised this morning and that’s when I wrote you straight away.”    “Right, okay. So, first thing you need to do is go to St. Mungo’s, you’ll see a mediwitch and they’ll make you drink a potion to see if you’re…pregnant or not.” She whispered, you nodded tearfully.   “Is that it? I just need to go to St. Mungo’s?”   “Well, you need to make an appointment first. Only-” She stopped short, she frowned, and her brow furrowed.   “Only?” You prompted.   “Only, it’s the day before Christmas Eve (Y/N). They’ll be no appointments until after the New Year, I’m sure.”   “Is it the 23rd already?” You asked, “Fuck me, I didn’t realise.” You paused. “So I have to wait?” Pansy nodded and swallowed another mouthful of cake. She pondered for a second before she sat up straight in her chair.   “Unless…”   “Unless?” You asked, you were growing impatient.   “There is the old-fashioned way of finding out. The muggle way, it’s just as effective. My sister had to do it before she was of age and she had it off with one of the Black cousins.”   “Which is?”

******

  You shifted your weight uneasily from foot to foot. You were in Piccadilly Circus waiting outside of a, you think Pansy called it a chemist? She didn’t trust you to not have a breakdown in the middle of a muggle pharmacy so left you to wait outside. It was bitterly cold and the snow had begun to fall harder than before. You watched as muggle pedestrians tried to weather their way through the flurry. How had it gotten to be the 23rd of December without you noticing? How had you let yourself not notice that your period was late? Very, very late, you cursed. You couldn’t help but be slightly angry at Fred and George, you had worked your fingers to the bone over the last few weeks to make sure the sop was stocked to the brim ready for Christmas. You had been exhausted, and still found time to cook and clean for the boys too. No, stop that, you thought. You were just irritable and nervous. You weren’t angry at the boys; you loved the boys; and were so proud of everything they had achieved in such a small space of time. Its natural to have bumps in the road, you just hoped there wouldn’t be a bump of another kind making an appearance.

  You shook your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts. It was no use to anyone to berate yourself, you placed a hesitant hand on your stomach. You prayed silently to Merlin, to anybody that could possibly hear you. You whispered the words over and over again in your mind, please don’t let me be pregnant please don’t let me be pregnant please don’t let me be-   “Got it!” Pansy thrust a plastic bag in your direction, followed by a handful of coins. You cocked your head to the side in confusion. “Your change,” she announced and placed the money in your hand. “Merlin, you know absolutely nothing do you.” You offered her a tight-lipped smile as she linked her arm with yours and you hurried away from the pulsing crowd.   “Right, let’s go to your flat and get this over with.” Pansy stated, she pointed to the designated apparation point and looked at you expectantly. The thought of going into an empty flat filled you with a dread that quickly turned to sickness, a bile that rose in your throat. You shook your head and slumped against the wall behind you.   “I can’t Pans, I can’t go back there now. Not today, I’m not ready.” You muttered, your hair fell into your face and shielded it from Pansy’s view. You felt Pansy put an arm around her shoulders. She pulled you close to her and enveloped you in a hug. The tears you had been holding in since you left Severus’ (could you even call him that now?) house fell from your heavy eyes as you clutched to your friend for dear life. She rubbed your back and swayed you from side to side.   “That’s okay, we don’t have to go there. Let’s just go to where you’re staying.”   “I can’t take you there either!” You laughed through your tears, Pansy laughed too and brushed her thumb across your cheek.   “Fucking hell, you truly are off grid, aren’t you? Don’t do break-ups by half.”   “We haven’t broken up, Pansy. I just needed some time away. I haven’t been on my own since…since-”   “Shh. I know, I know. I was just winding you up.” She pushed you back gently and held you at arm’s length. “Now stop crying please, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You laughed again and smiled weakly at her. You exhaled deeply and nodded. You needed to pull up your big girl pants and be an adult.   “I’ll owl you as soon as I know.” You said, Pansy’s face fell into a look of concern as you took a step back from her.   “Have I not shown you, you can trust me, (Y/N)?” She replied, she looked hurt and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.   “Yes, of course you have, Pansy. I just- I need to do this alone.” Pansy sniffed in indifference and crossed her arms over her chest. You felt instantly guilty, you loathed to upset your friend, especially when she had gone above and beyond for you; but you needed to do this by yourself.   “Fine. But you should let George know, it’s as much his concern as it is yours.” Pansy said stiffly before she turned away from you and disapparated with a small pop!

  You were still for a moment. The snow had turned to sleet and it seemed to soak you through to your very bones as you stood. How had everything turned into such a mess in such a small space of time? Of course, Pansy was right, you needed to tell George. He had a right to know what was going on as anybody else and another feeling of guilt flooded over your already aching chest.

******

  Desdemona was waiting patiently on a streetlamp as you approached Severus’ house. She let out an almighty hoot as you spotted her in the encroaching darkness, she flew quicky from her porch and nearly into your face.   “Bloody stupid bird,” You muttered as you extended an arm. Desdemona landed roughly; her talons pinched your skin under your winter coat as she offered the letter in her beak. Your heart sank as you took it, it could only be from your parents. “I don’t have anything for you. Go home.” You ordered her, if you didn’t know any better you could have sworn she rolled her eyes before she took off into the sky. You watched her fly for as far as you could see her, her tawny features hard to make out after a while. With a groan, you let yourself in to the house.

  You settled in Severus’ armchair and kicked your shoes off. The letter from your parents held tightly in your hand, it felt heavy and you were anxious yet reluctant to find out what it said. You sank lower into the comfortable leather and brought your knees to your chest and teased open the envelope. It wasn’t a howler, that was for certain. A smaller envelope dropped out of the initial one, and a folded piece of parchment landed on your lap. Ignoring the small envelope, you picked up the note and noticed immediately it was written in your father’s hand.

Daughter,

I understand you have moved to Diagon Alley with your partner; congratulations, I’m pleased you have found happiness. I must admit, this is to be a strange Christmas without you here with us. I will leave your stocking above the fireplace like always. I wish for you to understand that you are always welcome here, this is your home. I am your father. You will always be my little girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

Enclosed you will find your Christmas present; your mother gave her blessing for me to send it to you.

Merry Christmas, my darling.

You clutched the letter to your chest as you sobbed. You traced your finger over your father’s words, as if you could touch him through the parchment. You missed him more than words could say, you hadn’t anticipated how much so. In the time that had elapsed since you had last seen him, it was easy to forget the good things, the best things about your father; instead remembering him as the distant man who told you to run instead of protecting you. But he had, from the coldness of your mother, from the sneering remarks of the other noble families as a child and finally from your torment as you sat alone at Christmas.

  You padded solemnly into the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of port and the glass tumbler you had set out the night before. You poured yourself a healthy measure and as you brought the glass to your lips, you stopped. You remembered the white plastic bag you had flung on the floor at the bottom of the stairs when you arrived back, your stomach gurgled, and you bit your lip. What were you to do? Well, you knew exactly what you should do. You should write to George immediately, or better yet, go straight to The Burrow and you could do this together but- there was a part of you that felt that if you were to go to him now, you would be conceding. You would be letting yourself down. You hadn’t run straight into George’s arms the minute Mundungus’ plot was uncovered, if you were to go back now after two nights away from him would make you look weak. You demanded space, you demanded time to think and get away; you deserved it! George had to understand that he had hurt you immeasurably and not everything could be solved by a kiss and a cuddle.

  Regardless, if it turned out you weren’t pregnant then what would have been the need? You would have gone back to him at the first sign of trouble like always, and you weren’t prepared to it this time. If you were pregnant then yes, you would go to him. You would sit down and have an adult conversation over what to do next; but if you weren’t? You could perhaps enjoy this time to yourself before you returned to him. Before you decided what it was exactly you were to say to him. The layers of guilt that had so far weighed heavy on your chest eased slightly, your affirmations to yourself that this was the right thing to do, seemed to have assuaged you some. It was time, you knew it was. It was now or never, and it was most certainly, now.

  You read and re-read the instructions on the side of the box as you sat on the toilet. Your hand trembled as it held the little white stick, you parted your legs and pushed your hand between them; no idea if the stick was in the right position. When you were satisfied that you had done what you needed to, you pulled the stick away and popped the little blue cap on the used end. The box said it would take two minutes to give you a result, so with that, after thoroughly washing your hands, you returned to the living room. You placed the ‘test’ (it was most unlike any test you had ever taken in your life thus far) on the table face down, so you couldn’t see the little window and picked Dracula up from its perch on the nearby shelf. It was then that you noticed the small envelope your father had sent on the arm of the chair. You opened it gently, unsure of what it could be. Onto your lap fell an incredibly delicate silver choker encrusted with brilliant emeralds and littered with small diamonds, given to your mother when your grandmother died. You lifted it to the light and watched how the jewels caught the light. This piece of jewellery had been in your family for generations, You had admired it since you were a little girl, it had sat pride of place around your mother’s neck for special occasions, and you had tried it on- once or twice. Your mother would have been furious if she had found out. Your heart swelled with pride as you traced your fingers lovingly across it, that your mother wanted you to have it. Progress perhaps?

  A thunderous banging on the front door caused you to yelp in fear. You reached into the pocket of your jeans and produced your wand, you waved it frantically across the room and with a puff, all the candles were extinguished. You were plunged into darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you inched slowly out of the living room; wand raised- you weren’t sure what use it would be in the dark, but you refused to cast a Lumos. Severus had said he wasn’t expecting anyone at the house, and to not let anybody inside. You swallowed your fear and allowed yourself a second to think. The only people who would know what this house was, would either be one of two kinds. Muggles, probably drunk, banging on the wrong door or the darker alternative. The one you hoped to Merlin it wasn’t. The banging recommenced as you entered the hallway, you flinched at the sound but continued in your progress toward the front door. The early evening had well given way to night, and the only thing you could make out through the panes of glass in the door, was the shadowy figure that once again brought its hand up to bang against the wood. You crept silently along the hallway, with each step your pulse quickened as with trembling hand, you slowly reached for the catch. You felt a trickle of sweat run down your neck as you clasped the metal knob and turned it ever so slightly, you aimed to open the catch and fling the door open to the surprise of the intruder. You hoped to catch them off guard. As soon as you heard the click of the door, you flung it open.   “Stupefy!” You exclaimed, but he was faster.   “Expelliarmus.” Your wand flew from your hand and landed in his, bloodied and shaking. You blinked, unmoving as he reached for you. His other hand grasped onto your shirt as he tried to stand up straight. You recoiled backwards; it was instinctual. You noticed the hand which held fast onto the front of your shirt was also drenched in blood.   “Don’t scream.” He breathed, “Don’t scream, just…help…me inside.” You managed to nod and grasp him under his arm, as with the other he left bloody handprints along the wall. He kicked the door closed behind him as you helped him into the lounge, and with a big heave, assisted him to the sofa. “Why…is it so…dark?”

  In a second, every candle was lit, and you were able to get a good look at his face.   “What happened to you, Severus?” You asked horrified, he had a large gash on his cheek that bled freely. He clutched his side, and you noticed a flash of skin underneath his hands, he was wounded, badly. Bleeding profusely, what the fuck do you do? “Tell me what to do.”   “Dittany.” Severus whispered, “Cupboard in…bathroom.” You raced from the lounge up the stairs as fast as your feet could carry you, you wrenched open the bathroom cupboard and frantically searched for Essence of Dittany. You noticed that your hands were also covered in blood, his blood as you twisted and turned every bottle until you clasped your hand around the brown bottle.   “Give it to me.” Severus said weakly, he reached for the bottle, but you shook your head.   “No, you can’t-”   “I didn’t ask for…your opinion witch, give…me the…bottle.” He wheezed through gritted teeth, his face was a mass of blood now, like he had somehow tried to quell the bleeding but had somehow made it worse. You hesitated for a moment before you handed the bottle to him. He reached forward with a surprisingly steady hand and applied three drops to his cheek, his face contorted in pain as a small puff of green smoke rose around him. He winced as he tried to sit up, “Help me,” was all he said. Again, you supported his arm and helped right him. “My coat, I can’t reach-” You reached for his buttons and swiftly tried to undo them, he writhed beneath you, obviously in a copious amount of pain.   “Sorry!” You breathed as you reached his midsection, you could see clearly now the wound on his side. It looked as if he had been sliced, the blood was thick and dark as it oozed out of him. Tears stung your eyes as you panicked, you felt so very overwhelmed and with no idea how to help him. You tried to gently manoeuvre his arms through his sleeves, his jaw clenched and with two tugs, you managed it. He pulled his shirt up to his chest and granted you a look at how thin he was. You almost cringed at the sight of every rib in the poor man’s body, his stomach and what you could see of his chest were absolutely littered with scars; some old, some new.   “You will have to help…with this one.” Severus said, he looked better, if that was possible. The wound on his cheek shone purple, as if it had been there all along. The only tell-tale sign was the blood beginning to dry there. You rolled him onto his side and took the bottle from his hands, opening it quickly. You placed a gentle hand above his wound, just to the side of where his ribs jutted out. Severus flinched one and then relaxed as you tenderly brushed your fingers against his skin.   “Ready?” You asked, he gave a curt nod and you applied four drops of the Dittany across his wound. Severus, to his credit, let out a groan of pain whilst his whole body shook under the strain of new skin closing the wound. The puff of smoke was larger this time, you held your breath as it passed over your face. You held him in place until his breathing slowed, he looked at you askance and motioned to be helped up. “Do you want some water?” You asked as you pulled his shirt back down, covering him up. Severus shook his head.   “Whisky.” You rolled your eyes but knew better than to argue with him. You stood and brushed your hands against your jeans, you were sticky with his blood and felt uncomfortable. You hurried over to the drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of the amber liquid. Severus held his hand open and you passed him the bottle, he pulled the cork out with his teeth and brought it to his lips.  

  You watched him as he took sip after sip of the whisky, the colour eventually returned to his cheeks and you felt satisfied to leave him for a moment. You wandered into the kitchen and doused your hands with soap, scrubbing them hard to remove the blood. You fought back tears as the image of Severus writhing in pain engrained itself into your mind. You had never seen so much blood in your life and shuddered as you remembered the smell of the smoke as his skin knit together. You found him asleep on the sofa as you entered, bottle tipped to the side and his face peaceful. Carefully, you slipped his shoes from his feet and propped his legs up onto the sofa. Your wands lay together on the floor, you retrieved yours and Accio’d his duvet and a pillow, laying the latter under his head as you covered him in the blanket.

  You retrieved your cloak and settled into the armchair, you pulled it up to your chin and hooked your legs over one of the arms. It wasn’t comfortable, not in the slightest, but you couldn’t justify leaving him in his state. Your hand closed around your wand and pressed it against your chest, ready, just in case. For what- you didn’t know.

******

  “Sleep well?”

  You awoke with a start. Severus sat across the room from you, he was upright on the sofa. He still looked weak, but his eyes sparkled with humour.   “Like the dead.” You offered feebly; you arched your back; oh, fuck it was agony. You winced and Severus chuckled, your neck was stiff as you craned it to look at him.   “Nice choice of words.” You grimaced as you swung your legs onto the floor and ran your hands through your hair. You were surprised to feel the ends were dried red. Oh, of course. You shuddered as a fleeting image of the previous night’s bloody work crossed your thoughts. Brushing it off, you stood. “Coffee?”   “Please.” He answered, he looked more tired than you had ever seen as he watched you lazily. You returned a few moments later with two mugs of coffee, his black obviously, Severus nodded in thanks. You drank in silence, neither of you looking at the other. After a while, you stood without speaking. You felt disgusting, you were covered almost head to toe in Severus’ blood, although you had scrubbed at your hands- you hadn’t realised how messy it had been.

  You allowed yourself to cry in the bath. The water was hot and as you sank beneath the surface, you felt pathetic. You sobbed, more than you had in days. Your throat hurt and your eyes were swollen. Your heart hurt, why? Were you scared? Scared that someone might come after Severus and you would be caught in the crossfire? Or guilty that the man who had shown you so much kindness had been so dreadfully hurt and you hesitated in answering the door.

  He was sat in the same position that he had been in when you left him. He didn’t look like he had moved a muscle.   “Are you in pain?” You asked quietly, you felt stupid asking him stood in your Christmas pyjamas, but you were quickly running out of clean clothes.   “Immensely,” Severus answered wryly, he pointed at the coffee table. “What’s that?” Your gaze followed the direction of his pointed finger and your stomach fell.   “Nothing. Don’t worry.” You replied quickly, you snatched the pregnancy test and thrust it into the pocket of your pyjama bottoms. How the fuck had you forgotten about that? Your heart raced; you could know. You could know now, all you had to was look at the little window and it would tell you all you needed to know.  “Is that a pregnancy test?” Severus asked, the whisper of a smile tugged at his lips as you blushed.   “No.” You lied, why would he know what a pregnancy test looked like anyway? Especially a muggle one. Severus shook his head.   “If you say so.” He paused and watched you, your hair dripped big, wet droplets onto your shoulders. “Bring me some parchment and a quill, I need to write a letter.”   “Do you not think you should rest?” His face was aghast as you questioned him, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze.   “I promise not to exert myself too much moving my wrist.” You gave him a look of annoyance as he made a gesture as if he were writing. You rolled your eyes again, he chuckled once and then grasped his side in pain. Good, that serves him right for being a dick. You smirked to yourself as you retrieved parchment and a quill along with the silver whistle and thrust them into his hands.   “Would you like something to eat?” You watched him as, even with the sheer amount of pain he was in, his hand was steady as he wrote fluidly across the page. Severus ignored you as he continued to write. You sat in the armchair and watched him for several minutes, you noticed he brought the feathery tip of his quill to his lips every once in a while, in thought. It was almost hypnotic, watching his hand glide across the parchment, the only sound the scratching of his quill.

  The test in your pocket burned with anticipation. You reached for it deftly, careful not to make any sudden movements so as not to disturb Severus. Your fingers grasped it and pulled it out slowly, you shot a glance in his direction, satisfied that his attention was firmly placed upon his writing. You turned it over and…nothing. You panicked and turned it over, upside down and back to front. The little window that displayed the result was empty- no lines.   “Did you not read the instructions?” Severus called from the other side of the room. You gave him an uneasy look. “It quite clearly states that results disappear after twelve hours.” He hadn’t even looked up from his parchment, or so it seemed. You raced from the living room to the bathroom and plunged your hands into the wastebin in search for the box. He was right, of course he was right. Why wouldn’t he be right? You felt the blood drain from your cheeks as you slowly made your way back down the stairs.   “Idiot.” Severus mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear as you paced the length of the room. What were you to do now? It was Christmas Eve; you couldn’t face going back into the crowds. “I need you to take this to The Leaky Cauldron.” Severus’ deep baritone distracted you from your thoughts as he passed the parchment he had been writing on in your direction. You rose from your chair to take it from him, he had closed it in on itself over and over again until it appeared miniscule in your hand. Some kind of enchantment to dissuade the prying eyes of those unintended to read it, you supposed.     “What is it?” You enquired, turning it over in your fingers. Severus motioned you forward and held his arms out to you.   “You don’t need to know. Help me up.” Severus muttered and as you placed your arms around his back, your chests flush together; you blushed at the close proximity. He placed his hands onto your shoulders and supported himself to a standing position. “I need to go to the toilet.” He took two steps and swayed, he grasped hold of your arm to steady yourself.   “I can apparate us upstairs, Severus.” You stated, he grimaced and placed your arm under his.   “No, I’ll be sick. Help me and I might be able to help you with your problem.” He gave you a strained smirk and you nodded. You wondered what he could mean as you slowly supported him up the narrow staircase. You waited awkwardly outside of the door for a moment while he relieved himself, you accio’d his duvet and pillow and returned them to his bedroom, taking care to clear up the clothes you had scattered around the floor. When he emerged from the bathroom, you noticed his face was wet. He had attempted to wash his face rather unsuccessfully and you suppressed a laugh. You helped him into bed and pulled the covers over him, he seemed to relax under your care; letting you wipe a warm flannel across his face to remove the stains of his blood and hummed contentedly.   “You can do the rest yourself,” you announced. He opened his eyes and regarded you, “You can piss off if you think I’m going to give you a bath.” He laughed at this, a real smile appeared on his face and you smiled back, it was nice to see.   “Agreed. I can manage for now.” He sighed, “How late are your courses?”   “My courses?” You looked at him quizzically, Severus grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose.   “Your period, (Y/N). How late?” You blushed again and fiddled with the hem of your shirt, he looked at you expectantly as if he had asked you a question about the ingredients of a potion.   “Two weeks.” You answered, Severus nodded slowly and looked to the ceiling as if in thought.   “Yes, I think I shall be able to help you. Let me sleep for a while, deliver that letter for me and when you come back, we can eat, and we shall get to the bottom of this.” You sighed; you really didn’t want to go back to The Leaky Cauldron.  “Who shall I give it to?”   “Give it to Tom, he’ll see it gets where it needs to go.” Severus replied, his eyes closed again.   “Am I to say who it’s from?” Severus opened one eye and gave you a dark look, he wet his lips and frowned.   “Obviously.”

*******

  You hesitated before pushing open the door to The Leaky Cauldron, it was midday, and the pub was filled yet again with people making merry. You fought your way to the bar and waited to catch the attention of the young witch behind it, your neck craned in each direction to catch a glimpse of her. She appeared finally, two large trays of glasses hovering behind her as she began to rearrange the glassware behind the bar.   “Excuse me!” You said as you waved your hand, she noticed you and gave you a smile.   “Oh, hiya!” She said warmly, “Can I get you a drink?”   “No thank you,” You replied, “Is Tom available?”   “He certainly is,” A voice behind you said, you whirled round to be met with Tom’s smiling face. “Can I help you, miss?”   “Yes actually, I was told to give you this.” You showed him the tiny piece of folded parchment, Tom’s eyes flashed from it to yours and gave you a concerned look.   “Is this from…”   “Severus Snape, yes. He told me you’d know what to do with it.” You levelled, he took it from your hand and placed it into the pocket of his shirt.   “I assume there must be a reason why he sent you and not delivered it himself.” Tom replied with a raised eyebrow, you refused to let your mind wander to the events from the night before.   “Yes, but it’s not for me to say so- can I leave it with you?”   “Of course, I’ll see to it that everything is in order, tell him.” Tom replied, “Merry Christmas, miss.”   “Merry Christmas, Tom.” You watched as he withdrew into the crowd, you turned to the witch behind the bar. “Merry Christmas.” You smiled, she offered you a grin in return and waved her hand.   “Merry Christmas.” She replied cheerfully.

  You didn’t want to go into Diagon Alley, but your feet carried you over the cobbled stones to the dismay of your heart. Despite the growing tensions in the wizarding world, the wonky street was abuzz with people; not unlike the shoppers you had seen in Piccadilly Circus with Pansy. There was a long queue outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and you smiled sadly as you approached the window. The display you had spent so long working on looked magnificent, snow fell from behind the glass and tiny enchanted swans swam in a small lake, surrounded by miniature fur trees and families of deer.     “Penny for your thoughts?” You noticed Fred’s reflection in the glass appear next to you. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tightly.   “I thought you’d still be at The Burrow!” You exclaimed, he laughed and hugged you back. You pulled away and looked into his face, he looked well and cheerful. You had learned the differences between him and George over time, subtle though they were.   “Well somebody’s got to be here to run the shop,” Fred said as he gestured to the busy building, “I’m going back tonight.” You nodded in understanding and he placed your hand in the crook of his arm. “Fancy a walk?”

  Fred led you passed the bustle of the shops and back towards the apparation point.   “You okay, Freddie?”   “Yeah yeah,” He answered quietly, it must be difficult for him to see you- to know what had transpired between you and George. “Look, I don’t want to bombard you with questions or anything, (Y/N). But I need to know; is that you and George done? You left things so up in the air with him, and he’s putting on a brave face don’t get me wrong but…he’s my brother, and I can tell he’s hurting.” You bit your bottom lip, you hated to think about George in pain; but you just weren’t ready to talk about things.   “No, Fred. We’re not done…but he really hurt me, he said some awful things to me; accused me of terrible things and it’s going to take some time for me to be ready to have a conversation about it. Let alone forgive him.” You paused and wiped away a tear that fell onto your cheek. “I suppose I just never expected he could be like that. It surprised me.”   “Bloody surprised us all mate. When George came flying down to the shop floor after you left, ranting and raving- I’d never seen that side of him before. And Merlin, when Snape arrived at mum’s with Mundungus Fletcher, I thought he would wind up with a wand suspension the way he was trying to hex Mundungus.” Fred exhaled with a small laugh, you matched it with a smile. “He’s a good bloke, (Y/N). You mean everything to him. Believe me, I’ve had to share a room with him for the best part of two decades. If you’re not ready to talk about anything, can I at least tell him I saw you today and what you said? I’m sure it’ll make him feel loads better if he knew you hadn’t, you know, broken up with him without him realising.” You considered it for a moment, if Fred told George he had seen you today; it might make him want to find you. He had really respected your space so far and you were grateful for it, but the thought of making Fred keep something like this from his brother was too big of an ask. Plus, you were also keeping a huge secret from him, but you couldn’t tell Fred before you told George- it wasn’t right.   “Yeah, of course, Freddie. Tell him, you can also tell him Merry Christmas and that…I love him.” Fred made a gagging noise and you smacked him on the arm. “I need to go.” You pulled Fred in for one last hug and squeezed enough for him and George. He chuckled as you walked to the apparation point and gave him a big wave goodbye.

*******

  Severus stayed upstairs all afternoon and well into the evening. You couldn’t blame him though, it looked as though he had been through a massive ordeal and he needed time to recover, you couldn’t begrudge him that. You found a magical cooking book in one of the cupboards and coupled with some of the food you had bought at the supermarket, you managed to cook a reasonably tasty meal. Severus made comments about the quality of the steak, but you expected nothing less. You suspected it was only to save face though, as twice when he thought you weren’t looking, you saw him close his eyes and savour the taste of the food. You had served him in his meal in bed, he had managed to prop himself up on the pillows and you sat at the foot of the bed. It seemed quite personal really, but you found yourself savouring the intimate moments you shared with him. It made you feel like he did actually care for you, as more than an ex pupil, as a friend. He asked you about The Leaky Cauldron, who you spoke to, how you got home. After a moment, you felt brave.   “Who did this to you, Severus?” Severus sighed and passed his empty plate over to you.   “Nobody.”   “I find that extremely hard to believe. I need to know if I’m in danger.” You asked him earnestly, he met your gaze with a softness you seldom saw from the man.   “You’re in no more danger now than you have been in the last three days. Please don’t concern yourself with my welfare.” He answered, you suspected he intended to seem sterner than he came across. You wondered if he couldn’t muster the energy to chastise you.   “It’s a bit difficult to do that when I have to take you to the loo every time you want a piss.”   “You’re vile.”     “Pot, kettle, black. I found your blood in my ear this morning. That’s vile.” You laughed and he managed a laugh too. “I’m just glad I was here when you arrived last night.”   “Whether you were here or not, I would have gotten inside one way or another.” He levelled nonchalantly.   “Would it really be so horrendous to just say ‘thank you’?” You let out an exasperated sigh and flopped backwards on the bed. He eyed you with annoyance, but you could tell it was fleeting.   “Yes, actually. For me anyway.”     “Well I’m not surprised. You’re just annoyed I’m working off my debt to you.” You winked and rolled from the bed, you picked up your used plates and took them downstairs.

    You returned when he called for you. You held two glasses of port in your hands and found him in his study.   “When did you get in here?” You asked with a smile, pleased to see him on his feet, if not slightly unsteady.   “I am an enigma of a man, (Y/N). I wouldn’t expect your tiny brain to even begin to comprehend me.” Severus answered with a smirk, you passed him the glass and he raised it to his lips and drank deeply. “Delicious.” It was then you noticed the cauldron bubbling contentedly on his desk. You wandered over to it and inspected the shimmering, iridescent silver liquid, it smelled foul; like rotten eggs and you recoiled.   “What the fuck is that?” You demanded as you covered your nose. Severus had his back to you; he ran a finger along one of the shelves which held bottles of all shapes and sizes and plucked a large green bottle with a jade lid. You watched as he carefully unscrewed the top and dropped a tiny drop of the liquid onto a sprig of lavender. The flowers wilted instantly, and he dropped the whole thing into the cauldron. A great lilac cloud erupted from the cauldron and dissipated as Severus waved his hand.   “This, (Y/N) is a pregnancy test.” Severus replied with a satisfied smile. He beckoned you over to the desk and you sighed as the smell had gotten progressively worse with the addition of the lavender. The liquid had changed from its silver to a dark burgundy, it still held its iridescence as it bubbled.   “Is this what they use in St. Mungo’s?”   “Merlin no, they use a potion so convoluted there you could have had the baby by the time you receive an answer.” Severus sniffed, “This is Enfantin Inventim, it’s old. Really, very old. They stopped using this in everyday practise about three hundred years ago. It’s notoriously difficult to prepare and can often lead to an incorrect result.”   “Should we use it then? If it can give an incorrect result?” You asked anxiously, the last thing you needed was to wait another day. You needed to get on with your life, one way or the other.   “Do you think I would prepare something that would achieve anything other than one-hundred-percent accuracy?” Severus snapped. He had a point; he was a potions master for a reason.   “Okay, what do I do?”   “It isn’t pleasant, (Y/N). Do you trust me?” You considered it for a moment and then nodded, he offered his hand to you, you took it and he pulled you towards him forcefully. Severus winced with the effort and forced your hand open. He quickly drew a pearl-encrusted dagger across the length of your palm, easily opening the flesh. You howled in pain and tried to pull your hand back, Severus clasped it into a fist and squeezed tightly. Blood began to fall from you hand and he brought it over the cauldron, the potion drank your blood hungrily and after you parted with ten drops, the potion began to cloud over.  

  “Stand back.” He commanded, he gave you a scrap of cloth and you pressed it hard into the palm of your hand. “If the liquid turns white, you’re pregnant. If it turns black, you’re in the clear.”   “How long do we have to wait?” You whispered and closed your eyes.   “Not long.” In that moment, you wished George were by your side. He would know exactly what to say, and even if he didn’t, he would make you laugh. You imagined his hand around your waist and his lips pressed to your head in a gentle kiss.   “Severus. If I am…you know. What do I do?”   “I imagine what women have done for a millennia-”   “No, what I mean is-” You paused, unsure of how he would react. “Do I have a- do I have a choice?”   “Of course you have a choice. I can put you in contact with some discreet mediwitches. They’re friendly and would have you sorted in no time.” “Okay.”

  You waited for what seemed an age. You tended to your wounded hand and shot a scowl in Severus’ direction when he likened it to a scratch compared to his. The cauldron continued to bubble, it produced green smoke and spat out occasionally. You couldn’t take it anymore. Severus stirred it dutifully and you told him you’d be back in a moment, trapsing your way to the bathroom. You paced back and forth frantically. You couldn’t stand the waiting idly by, you had fashioned a bandage for your hand out of the cloth and some rolled up toilet paper when you caught your reflection in the mirror. You moved towards it and placed your hands gently on the sink underneath it.   “You need to sort your fucking life out, (Y/N).” You said to your reflection, you stared deeply into your own face. Hardly even recognising the person reflected back to you.   “(Y/N)!” You heard Severus shout from the study. “It’s done.” You supressed the bile that rose in your throat and took a deep breath. You stepped uneasily back into the room to see Severus’ neutral face waiting for you. He stood with his hands behind his back.   “Have you looked?”   “Yes.”   “What is it?”   “For fucks sake, have a look.” He snapped; he shook his head with a scowl as you inched toward the cauldron. Your hands trembled as you peered down into the now still liquid. It was black. The liquid was black.   “It’s-”   “Black.” He answered with a smile.   “I’m-”   “Not. Pregnant.”

  You cried out a tremendous cry of relief. Big tears rolled down your cheeks as you moved to Severus in two swift movements and threw your arms around his shoulders. He swayed with surprise.   “Ow. Careful.” He murmured before he patted you awkwardly on the back. When you pulled away, you beamed triumphantly up at him and he returned your smile. “You can thank me by releasing me.” You complied with a laugh, a genuine laugh. You felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, you breathed easier than you had done in weeks.   “Thank you, Severus. I suggest you stop being nice to me or I’ll forever feel indebted to you.” You laughed, you noticed Severus’ expression alter slightly. “What? What did I say?”   “I feel like I haven’t been quite honest with you.” Severus said quietly, “Don’t interrupt me, just let me finish, yes?” You nodded and took a step back. You waited patiently for Severus to speak, he seemed to mull the words over before he was satisfied.   “You asked me a while ago whether I’m this involved with all of my old student’s lives, and I think we both know the answer to that. When I returned to Malfoy Manor after I took you to The Burrow, your father took me to one side.” You eyed him suspiciously as he wet his lips before continuing, “He knew what I had done and asked for a favour.”   “Of course he did.”   “Shut up, I’m not finished. He asked me if would be able to keep an eye on you, he knew I had connections almost everywhere, and he wanted reports of your whereabouts. And I agreed.” You stared unblinking at Severus. “He offered monthly payments if I could tell him where you were going, what you were doing, who you were seeing etcetera.” Severus squared his shoulders and took a sip of his port. “He just wanted to know you were safe.”   “So he paid you to spy on me?”   “In essence, yes. I never accepted the money though.” Severus levelled, you covered your eyes with your good hand and sighed.   “That’s why you let me stay in your house.” Severus nodded grimly and gestured for you to sit. You did so and chewed on your lip. You felt a multitude of emotions, not one of them good.   “There is one more thing, (Y/N). That night in The Leaky Cauldron where Mundungus saw you and I for the first time. He was there on my orders.” Your mouth fell agape. No, no absolutely not, that couldn’t be. Severus couldn’t possibly have ordered the hurt that Mundungus inflicted. You stared at him again, stony faced as tears began to trickle down your cheek.   “I heard you though, I followed you into the alleyway when you confronted him.” You said feebly, your lip quivered.   “I know, I made sure you would hear so not to suspect me. I was annoyed at him though, that was never part of the plan. He went rogue, so to speak.”

  A heavy silence descended between the pair of you. Severus, his usual staidness reduced to slumped shoulders and a guilty expression. There was a plethora of things you wanted to say, questions you wanted to ask him, but you couldn’t find the words. He finished his port and hobbled out of the room, your heard him enter the bathroom. You sat still, positively unable to process everything he had told you. Was there anything in your life that you held control over? When he appeared in the doorway, his face was ashen with pain and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his brow.   “Do you have any cigarettes?” You asked him slowly. He nodded and pointed downstairs, you pushed passed him and retrieved them from his discarded coat. You carried the remainder of the bottle of port back with you and sat on the floor. Severus moved slowly passed you and collapsed into the chair, the evidence of his exertion etched into his face. You filled his glass with the ruby liquid and then pressed the bottle to your lips and took three deep swigs. He raised an eyebrow as if to complain but thought better of it.   “Did you ever care about me, Severus? Because if it isn’t already clear, I care about you.” You pulled a cigarette out of the packet and lit it, you threw the packet into Severus’ lap, a little harder than you intended. He winced and lit his own cigarette.   “Of course I care.” You scoffed and took another swig from the bottle.   “And are you going to tell him about this? My father?” You pointed to the cauldron full of Enfantin Inventim. Severus shook his head and took a sip.   “No, I did this for you.”   “Why should I believe you?”   “You don’t have to, I suppose. I can’t force you.”

  You were silent again after that, you took long drags of your cigarette until the heat became too much as it reached the filter and burned your lip. You finished off the port and dropped the stub into the now empty bottle. Severus didn’t remove his eyes from your face, as if he were waiting for you to explode. You had every right to, you could go and punch walls and kick holes in doors, but what would that achieve?   “I’m trying really hard to be angry at you.” You whispered. Severus’ look of surprise almost took you off guard.   “And?”   “I can’t.” Severus sighed and slipped further into the chair, he finished his cigarette and beckoned for the empty bottle. He dropped the stub in slowly, his face contorted with pain as he stretched. You watched as he did his usual action of wetting his lips, his tell-tale sign that he was about to speak.   “I do care about you, (Y/N). There’s a goodness in you that one doesn’t always see when they’re brought up in the circles we frequent. I’m satisfied knowing I played my part in ensuring you got out of it all. You remind me very much of somebody I knew a long time ago, someone I wished I could have done more to help, but it wasn’t within my power. This, on the other hand, was very much within my capabilities. I’m not sorry.” His face settled into a frown and you sighed with exasperation.   “Fucks sake.” You muttered, you rose from your spot on the floor and made your way to Severus. You dipped your head and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “You’re an arsehole.”   “Believe me, (Y/N). That is one of the tamer names I have been called in my time.” He smiled ruefully and found your hand and gave it a squeeze.   “If I ask you a question, will you promise to answer it honestly?” You asked, you saw the faintest hint of humour flash across his eyes.   “I shall try.”   “Was it the Dark Lord who hurt you last night?” He looked at you thoughtfully, a smile tugged at his lips. Severus lifted his chin and placed a finger on it and brushed it over his lips.   “Yes.” You didn’t quite know what to do with the information, you weren’t quite sure why you asked the question. You simply nodded and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Please don’t worry about me, (Y/N). I know what I’m doing.”   “Still.” Severus shrugged, he looked to the clock on the wall and then out of the window into the night.   “If you leave now, you could make it to The Burrow by midnight. Bring in Christmas with your loved ones.” He said quietly, you wondered if you saw the slightest twinge of remorse on his face. You cocked your head to the side.   “You want me to go?”   “I think we both know it’s time for you to, what’s the expression, ‘get your shit together.’” You snorted and threw your head back as you laughed.   “You could come with me, if you like; to The Burrow?” Severus shook his head, his hands outstretched in front of him.   “No thank you, I prefer my own company.”   “What will you do? Will you be okay if I go?”   “I have weathered much more serious casualties than this one by myself. I shall be fine. I will travel back to Hogwarts in the morning ready for my Christmas Dinner.”   “Are you sure?”   “Go,” Severus stated with a small smile, “Get out of my house.”

******

  It was five to midnight when you knocked on the door to The Burrow. You didn’t want to just burst in, just in case they were asleep or busy with family time. Your fingers flew to your neck where the intricate choker your father had sent you sat at the base of your throat; it was a special occasion after all. You knocked again and stood back to take a look at the house. There were a few lights still on even at this late hour, you strained to hear any noises on the other side of the wood and were about to knock for a third time when the door flew open. Ginny stood in fluffy red pyjamas, wand raised and a look of shock on her face. You launched yourself at her and she you, you engulfed each other in a vice like hug.   “I knew you’d come.” She whispered, “George is going to wet himself.” She led you through the house where only Molly, Ginny and Ron sat by the fireplace in the living room. Molly clasped her hands to her mouth as she struggled to get out of her chair quickly.   “Oh! My dear!” She said as she tottered toward you, she pulled you close to her chest and rocked you back and forth. “I am so happy you’re here; we can finally celebrate now.”   “Please don’t, you’re going to make me cry.” You said as Molly pulled away and placed a warm hand to your cheek.   “Welcome home.” She whispered. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  The sound of feet thundering down the rickety staircase made you jump, Ginny arrived breathlessly at the bottom and George immediately behind her dressed in his pyjamas. Your eyes met across the expanse and you opened your arms to him. He crossed to you in a flash and placed two hands on your face and pressed his lips hungrily to yours. You tossed your arms around his neck, and his arms moved down your body and hugged your waist. You pressed your forehead to his and sighed.   “Merry Christmas.” You breathed; a whisper of a smile played at George’s lips.   “Merry Christmas.” He replied, he laced his fingers with yours and beamed at you. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  Most of the snow had melted in the fields surrounding The Burrow, and you were grateful for it as George almost dragged you along a beaten path to a wooden bench under a tree, a good quarter of a mile away from the house. He pressed a hand to the seat and shrugged;   “It’s not wet, just cold.”   “I can handle cold.” You sat close to him on the bench, his arm around your shoulders as you both gazed up into the crisp night sky. There was something about the way the stars looked from here, like you could reach out and touch them. Lonely clouds like tiny whisps of smoke littered the sky occasionally, and you took turns in those moments where the stars weren’t visible in giving the other a kiss.   “Merlin, I missed you.” George said into your hair, he stroked the side of your face with a gloved finger and you melted into his touch. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”   “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about it, George, but I need to tell you something.” You replied, his gaze softened as he placed another tender kiss to your lips. You sighed contentedly at the feeling of warmth that spread through you, you were home. He squared his shoulders and shifted slightly on the bench, so to face you more.

  He listened intently whilst you told him of everything since you had last seen him. He nodded and occasionally asked the odd question like; “Was the inside of Snape’s house full of bodies?” and “God, I can’t believe you slept in his bed. Was it a coffin?” The only thing you neglected to tell him was of Severus’ attack, you didn’t know how deep the waters were that surrounded his area of his life and you didn’t feel like it was your place to share that information. When you told him of your pregnancy scare, his eyes widened, and his jaw clenched.   “(Y/N),” He said sternly, “You should have told me straight away. That’s not fair.”   “I know love, I feel awful about it. That’s one thing I’m truly sorry for, George. I promise not do anything like it again.” He nodded, seemingly content with that and kissed the tip of your nose. You began to tell him of the plot your father had embroiled Severus in, and George’s hands clenched into fists.   “That fucking snake.” George muttered, “How are you not furious?”   “Believe me, I tried to be,” You answered, “We talked about it and I decided there’s more important things to be worried about. I don’t blame him for what he did and neither should you, okay?”   “Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”   “I’ll take it.”

  When you climbed into bed that night, it was nearly two in the morning. The rest of the house was sound asleep as you and George became reacquainted. His hands found themselves tangled in your hair and you moaned quietly as he pulled softly, his mouth lathering your neck in kisses.   “Fuck, I’ve missed the sounds you make.” George breathed into your ear, you tipped your head back and found his mouth with yours. His hands travelled from your hair down to your hips, he pulled you close, and you felt his already hard member as it pushed against his boxers. You brought a hand down and cupped it, he hissed at the contact and bucked his hips forward. “Please let me fuck you, (Y/N). It’s been too long.”   “Yes, oh, fuck yes. Do it, George.”

  He wasted no time in pushing your knickers over your bum, and you wiggled frantically in an attempt to free yourself from them. He pulled his boxers down and climbed between your legs, he rubbed his cock against your folds and spat into his hand, rubbing it along his shaft for extra lubrication. When he pushed into you, you moaned together. It was like for one split second, the earth stopped. Everything stopped. You could hear your heartbeat in your eyes as you pulled George’s head down to kiss his lips. You ran your tongue along his bottom lip, and he shuddered. He rolled his hips against yours, and you grasped onto his shoulders tightly. George pulled out almost completely, before he pushed into you again; fully sheathed inside you. He did this three more times before you cried out;   “Please! I can’t take it anymore!” With a growl, George thrusted hard. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at intense pace, he lifted your legs above his shoulders, allowing him to bury himself deeper within you. You gasped at the sensation of being utterly filled by him, your brow furrowed as you struggled to keep your moans quiet. He continued this pace, his cock now slick with your juices as you bit down hard on the back of your hand. He pushed back slightly and reached a hand in between your legs, parting them slightly as he began to furiously rub your clit. Your eyes rolled back into your head as overwhelming pulses of pleasure coursed through your veins, you moved your hips with his, suddenly desperate for release. George let your legs fall from his shoulders as he grasped your hips, moving you with ease along his throbbing cock. You groaned, as George pressed harder against your mound, drawing from you a string of curses as you trundled towards your orgasm.   “Fuck, I’m going to come, George.” The surprise in your voice was palpable, the swiftness in which George was going to make you come was incredible. You panted hard against his shoulder as with a grunt, his nimble fingers rubbed you to completion, his cock hitting the delicious spot inside you. As you reached the peak of your high, George followed. He groaned as your walls tightened around him and he spilled his seed deep into your quim.   “Sorry,” George breathed, “I couldn’t hold on any longer.” You smiled and kissed him, it was tender and held every ounce of love you had for him. He deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue around with yours as his hand cupped your breast. “I’m going to fuck you so hard as soon as we get to the flat, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”   “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Georgie.” You smirked, he tweaked your nipple between his fingers and brought his mouth close to your ear, his voice deathly low.   “I’m going to make you come, over and over again. You’re going to beg me to stop. Then I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you the way you ought to be fucked. Rough and hard because naughty girls don’t get fucked nicely.”

  Your skin flushed with heat as he nibbled at your earlobe, desire already building between your legs. You cast a look to George, who looked about two seconds away from falling asleep and giggled.   “Do you want to be the little spoon?” You asked, he didn’t answer, instead he rolled his body away from you and faced the wall. He pushed his bum out and you gave it a playful slap.   “Don’t get any ideas.” He muttered and you grinned as you wrapped your arm around his middle. He laced his fingers with yours and hummed contentedly as the room gave way to the quiet of the house.   “I’m so happy you came back.” George whispered; his voice heavy with tiredness.   “Me too. I love you.” You replied with a yawn.   “Love you too.”

  George complained the entire way back to the flat. He had insisted on carrying your bags plus gifts you had received over Christmas, including but limited to; a lovely scarf Molly had painstakingly kitted for you and a hilariously ruffled gilet for George. You couldn’t help but grin consistently as you walked ahead of him up the back stairs to the entrance of the flat, his hat had slipped over his eyes and he lost his footing. Your suitcase lurched backwards, it manged to bump comically every step before it lay still at the bottom of the stairs.   “Right!” George announced, he dropped the rest of the bags and grabbed hold of your hips. You yelped in surprise as George hoisted you over his shoulder, fireman style and proceeded up the rest of the stairs. He near enough kicked the front door open and moved swiftly through the flat and into your shared bedroom, he ignored your giggled protestations and flung you down onto the bed. He was on top of you in an instant, his knee pushed your legs apart and his mouth descended onto your throat. He sucked and nibbled at the sensitive skin and began undoing the buttons of your coat.     “Off.” He ordered as he opened your coat and tugged at the bottom of your jumper. Dutifully, you sat up and removed the offending items of clothing. His gaze was ravenous as he watched as you tucked your hair behind your ears and waited for further instructions. George’s gaze flashed down to your breasts. “Off.” He repeated. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as George removed his own coat and shirt, his hands moved to his belt and he slipped both his jeans and boxers from his body, his already hard cock sprung against his stomach as you followed suit. You threw your jeans across the room and your knickers next.

 “So beautiful,” George commented as he ran a featherlight touch across your cheek. “Such a good girl.” You melted into George’s ghost like touch and shuddered. You kept your eyes on him as he brought a hand down to his cock and rubbed along the length slowly. “Touch yourself, (Y/N) I want to see you make yourself come.” Your eyes widened with shock for a moment before a smile crept across your mouth and you brought your hands to your breasts. Was it a show he was after? Then a show he would get. You placed your fingers on each of your hardened nipples and tugged slightly, your lips parted slightly at the sensation. You heard George as he took a sharp intake of breath as he gripped the head of his cock. You trailed one hand slowly down your body and shuffled down the bed as you lay your shoulders back onto the covers. You reached your throbbing cunt and spread your legs wide for George to see, he moaned as you brought your fingers over your clit and rubbed a sweeping circle of it.   “That’s it,” George moaned, “Let me see you- oh! Good girl.” You watched as George began to pump himself faster, your name fell from his lips as you plunged two fingers between your slick folds. You matched George’s pace as you fucked yourself with your fingers, you closed your eyes and fisted the sheets with your free hand. Pleasure built within you as with each pulse of your fingers, you found your sweet spot. “Come quickly, (Y/N). I want to see how fast you can come.”

  You took your fingers out of your entrance and brought them now coated in your juices and recommenced the rubbing of your clit. You moaned as you rubbed tantalisingly quick circles on the electrified pearl between your legs. Your toes curled as you felt your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach, you moaned, and George answered it with a moan of his own. Your hips bucked from the bed as you pressed harder with each swipe of your fingers until you came, it was fantastically intense and your voice, thick with desire called out for George.   “Come here.” He demanded once you had recovered. His cock was impossibly hard and almost screamed for attention as you crawled slowly over to where he sat. George placed a hand on your head as you took him in your mouth, you placed a tender kiss to the tip and licked the little drops of precum that had gathered there. He sighed as you pushed your lips down the length of hi and relaxed your throat, allowing him a small thrust. His gentle hand became a fist in your hair as he pulled you back, almost pulling you away from his cock; but your hand reached around the base of him and began to pump him. Your tongue swirled around his tip and George’s head rolled back as you wrapped your lips around him and swallowed. You found a rhythm and George’s hand on your head helped you keep time; you could see the muscles in his thighs tense as you hummed around him.   “Fuck. That feels good. Such a good girl.”

  At George’s praise, you sucked him faster, hollowing your cheeks and your grip around his shaft tightened. George’s hips began to lift off the bed as he thrust into your mouth. There was nothing you loved more in this world than to feel this man come undone under your hand, you moaned against him and he slid further into your throat. That was enough for George, who parted with four thick spurts with a cry of pleasure. You swallowed it up and wiped your mouth, you pulled away and gently massaged your aching jaw. You watched the rise and fall of George’s chest as he recovered from his orgasm, arm slung over his eyes.   “I love you.” You whispered, you felt tears sting your eyes and you sniffed. George sat up and looked at you, his face etched with concern.   “I love you too, what’s the matter?” He asked, he pulled you close and bundled you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you nuzzled your face against his neck.   “Nothing, nothing. I’m just so happy.” George chuckled and hugged you tighter, you popped a leg over his and hummed as happy tears fell from your eyes.   “Me too.”

**********

  “No, those need to go to the stockroom, Fred. I’m not having them cluttering up the flat. There’s already zero room in here as it is.” You gestured around you to the boxes of stock that stood tall in your tiny living room.   “Right, and I’m telling you there’s nowhere to put them. We need more space.” Fred sighed and placed the box full of love potions on the floor. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Angelina appeared from behind a tower of boxes, her face aghast as Fred opened his arms to her. He placed a kiss on her shoulder.   “We’re drowning in all this.” She said, you shook her head at you; a silent communication that the boys had finally lost the plot.   “What do we need to do?” George called from the doorway, he levitated three coffee’s behind him as he held a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand, a bottle of champagne in the other. You grinned as he rushed to you, he presented the flowers to you and you sniffed them gratefully. Roses, lily’s and daisies. Your favourite.   “They’re beautiful, George! Thank you!” You placed a loving kiss to his cheek and traced a lily petal delicately with your finger as George put the champagne in the fridge.   “Congratulations my love! And happy second anniversary.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a hug.   “This mine?” Angelina asked, she pointed at one of the three coffees suspended behind George’s shoulder.  “Oh yeah sorry, Ange. This one’s yours love.” George smiled and dished the coffees out; Angelina gave George a warm smile of thanks as you sipped happily.   “Where’s mine?” Fred demanded; George patted his pockets sarcastically.    “You weren’t here, mate.” He shrugged, Fred huffed and turned his attention to you.   “Congratulations I suppose, (Y/N). Still think you’re wasting your time being a Healer.” Fred said, Angelina wasted no time smacking his stomach.   “You think I’m wasting my time being a Healer…as we’re about to go into war?” You said, despite the seriousness of your words, a smile tugged at your lips as you knew Fred was just sorry to lose you from the shop. You had spent the last year and a half revising your arse off to be fast-tracked through the training programme. It was the only way you could think of to give back an inch of the kindness you had received. You had received your lime green robes this morning, an immensely proud moment indeed.   “All I’m saying is, you could have been junior assistant manager. I had the badge made for you and everything.”   “Ignore him, (Y/N).” Angelina said as she rolled her eyes, “We’re all really proud of you. Well done, babe.” You handed George the flowers and tossed your arms around Angelina’s neck for a hug.   “Thank you, Ange. What did I ever do without you to help reign dear Freddie in?” You laughed and she laughed with you.   “Think there’s anyway we can back out, Georgie?” Fred whispered dramatically to George who just grinned ruefully.   “Not a chance.”   “Too fucking right. You’re stuck with us now.” Angelina replied, an arm slung round your shoulders. “We still need to work out what to do with these boxes.”   “There’s no room for them in here.” George offered, he waved his wand over your flowers and they arranged themselves beautifully in a vase.   “No,” Angelina agreed, “I think we all know this flat isn’t big enough for four people, couples or not.” You nodded and made your way back to George, he hoisted himself up onto the kitchen counter and you settled between his legs.   “What are you thinking?” Fred asked his girlfriend; Angelina shrugged and sipped her coffee.   “We were thinking,” You replied, “Turning this upstairs flat into a staff room and overflow stockroom. You’re selling so much, so obviously have to have the stock to sell. There just isn’t room for us in here anymore. Plus, I’m pretty sure the staff would love to be able to come up here and have an actual cup of tea on their breaks.”   “We think we should move.” Angelia said, “Separately.” She added softly. George’s hand stiffened around your waist. You wished that Angelina had waited a day or two before dropping the bombshell, but the pair you had spent the last month speaking of little else. You and George needed your own space, and Fred and Angelina needed theirs as much.   “You want us to move away from each other?” Fred asked incredulously, you offered him a small smile.   “Not exactly.”

**********

  The portkey dropped you in the middle of a field. You were on your lunch break and only had half an hour before you needed to be back at St. Mungo’s. George looked stressed as he straightened his tie, you could tell he was nervous. You took his clammy hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.   “You okay?”   “Yeah,” He replied in a strained voice. “It’s just a lot of money to part with.” You sighed and dragged him in the direction of Fred and Angelina who stood waving at you. You approached them with hello’s and hugs and waited.   “What time’s he meant to be coming?” Fred asked as he checked his watch, you followed suit and checked the upturned watch pinned to your robes. Only twenty minutes left.   “Any minute now.” Angelina asked. You all looked in opposite directions, scouring the grassy horizons for any sight of the man in question. What you didn’t expect, was for him to surprise you from behind.   “You can never expect a group of Gryffindor’s to be on time.” You felt a grin widen across your face as you saw Severus fold his arms across his chest.   “Excuse me, I’m one of yours.” You replied, he shook your hand rather formally but gave you a brief wink as he dropped two sets of keys into George’s hand.   “Is it all sorted?” George asked the potions master, Severus nodded.   “Yes, I watched them as they signed the paperwork this morning. All in your names now, though I don’t see why you had to have me do it. I’m very busy.”   “Because I don’t trust anybody else.” You countered, “I needed to be one-hundred-percent sure my parents wouldn’t try any funny business.”   “They were quite happy to get rid of these cottages if you ask me. They have no need for them anymore, especially given that they’ve sold the house in Rouen.” Severus said, he looked up at the old stone walls of the two cottages.   “The price of war, I suppose.” Fred quipped; Severus cocked an eyebrow but ultimately smirked in agreement. You broke away from George and the others and placed your arm through Severus’, wandering a few steps.   “Thank you again, I really appreciate that.” You whispered; your heads close together. Severus placed a hand on top of yours and patted it softly. “Are you still coming for lunch on Sunday? It’s my only day off this week.”   “Are you cooking?”   “No, George is.”   “Yes, I shall arrive at twelve.”

  You waved as Severus made off into the distance, when there was no longer any sight of him. Angelina turned to you, and then back out to the cottages. A pair of great stone cottages with an adjoining garden stood before you. That had been built hundreds of years ago by twin farmers who tended the surrounding fields. They were acquired by your parents in the sixties; and now were to make new homes for you and George, Fred and Angelina. It was fitting really that another pair of twins would live in them all those years later, making new memories.   “How long have you got before you need to be back at the hospital?” George whispered into your ear. You glanced down at your watch.   “Fifteen minutes.”   “Plenty of time.” He breathed, George grabbed your hand and dragged you laughing towards the front door of your cottage. The door slammed behind you as he placed a hungry kiss to your lips. His hands where everywhere at once, slipping your robes over your head and grunting in your ear.   “This is our house, (Y/N). I want to hear how loud you can be.”

Of course, you complied; you wanted everybody to know that you were his, forever.

#george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x reader #severus snape #Pansy Parkinson #Ginny Weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter reader insert #nobody can know #godrics-swallow #fred weasley

[valley-of-the-lost]

OKAY FINAL CONSENSUS

Pros

- Songs are a bop. I WILL be looping that soundtrack please and thank you.

- Closed the classism plot better with Tori showing she was taking more direct, widespread action like putting systems in place to prevent the root issue (the drought) from happening again and implementing a social services program to further help.

- Tori and Kiera have a lot more interaction and gay chemistry. The plot setup just lends itself better to this, also yes Kiera did announce her engagement to Tori up on that stage and you can’t change my mind.

- Pets weren’t too annoying... mostly.

Cons (this is what y’all were waiting for huh)

- Augh... to be honest I think this movie is a demonstration that the people who made it didn’t understand what appealed to people about the original Princess and the Pauper. Which is obviously fine if it wasn’t trying so hard to ride off of it. Like sure, it’s trying to be the Princess and the Pauper for a new generation but the fact that it’s toting itself as that means its also trying to appeal to some extent to the ones who loved the original and ehhh it kinda fucked up in that regard.

Making the two leads both part of the 1% was the first mistake. First of all, that decision didn’t age well at all. Second of all, it kinda diminishes the point of them switching in the first place in a meta sense?? because it’s so the rich one can realize the class disparity by actually living as one in poverty. Tori literally stumbled across the poverty of her kingdom by accident, and she didn’t really reflect on learning anything by having to maintain an actual job for once as Kiera. Third of all in my opinion it makes them too similar in position. Really the only difference between Tori and Kiera is that one has an actual job.

Second mistake, Tori and Kiera really don’t embody the characteristics Princess and the Pauper fans found admirable in the original movie’s leads. Which, again, is fine if they want to tackle something different, but if they had it would show understanding of the original movie and what appealed to the audience.

Annelise and Erika are both admired for their mature resolve. “Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret”. They understand their responsibilities and what is riding on them and are ready to take appropriate action to see them through at personal cost to themselves.

Tori and Kiera in comparison are like the immature little sisters, Tori at least is approaching from the opposite angle developmentally where she has to go from immaturity to maturity and come to learn her responsibilities, which might’ve caused some whiplash in og Princess and the Pauper fans. Kiera is... well. Let’s just say she got did SUPER dirty in this movie and leave the details for the next bullet point.

- This is kinda a subpoint of Kiera and Tori being in too similar positions of class, but I literally don’t see why Kiera can’t solve her own problem, take all her money and strike out as an independent artist. We aren’t really presented a reason why she feels so chained to her job, like is someone else depending on the money she rakes in or something? Also with the increasing accessibility of tools and platforms for artists to be independent it makes her struggle more... stagnant? is that the right word?

Also I swear to god I thought the ending of the movie was that Kiera was fired from her job and starts playing independently at cafes. Apparently I jedi mind tricked myself or something but in my opinion that would’ve been a better ending for her. It’s at least a change and forces her to take more time for herself, and she’d probably be fine financially since she’s not exactly a pauper as a popstar.

- I thought the problem of the story being unbalanced was going to get resolved later on but no, if anything it kinda gets worse. Tori gets the lion’s share of development. In the beginning it’s established that she has problems taking responsibility/doesn’t see why she has to take responsibility, has a major revelation pertaining to that when she realizes that being so irresponsible played into being ignorant of the plight of her people, and then later addresses that by putting infrastructure in place to prevent a repeat of the drought and programs to address the problems the drought caused.

In comparison, Kiera’s conflict is established as feeling overworked/too busy to the point where she has lost time and pleasure for her own hobbies. It’s kinda implied she’s burnt out but any simple but meaningful exploration of this falls flat as soon as she and Tori switch places. In her parallel scene to Tori’s revelation about Meribella’s plight, she gets inspired to come up with song lyrics again... and this is about as far as her half of the story goes. She doesn’t meaningfully reflect on this in any shape or form so her whole initial conflict literally dies in the water, there’s no major revelation for her to parallel Tori’s. What makes matters worse is that this has no resolution. The movie ends with the dual concert (at least my version does). Kiera presumably goes back to her status quo as an overworked popstar and nothing changes. This is not an arc, this is a flat line.

Which is a real fucking damn shame because in my HUMBLE opinion she’s the most interesting character of the two, esp if you parse apart her section of “To Be a Princess/To Be a Popstar”.  Like come on. “No time for friends except for your dog and your guitar”? “Love every fan no matter how bizarre they are”? “To be a popstar is to never act your age”??? Guys she’s one half of the leading main couple you can’t just leave her storyline out to dry like this.

- The villain he... sorry he’s no Preminger. man needs a therapist for his chipmunk PTSD is all I’ll say.

- The prince literally adds nothing, just cut him out of the story already. Also his face looks weird.

- (edit) I forgot this part: It has the same problem as Princess and the Pauper where the royal family is still in charge except kinda worse because in this movie its implied the royal family willfully turned a blind eye to the suffering brought by the drought and pretended it didn’t exist as opposed to addressing it. Victoria may have the interests of the people in mind but there’s no guarantee her descendants will, they’re still under the whims of the royal family.

And... yeah thats it. Almost decent but they literally didn’t follow through with an arc with one half of their leading couple. That kinda impacts the movie a lot, jussayin. Goodnight, next time we might do Mariposa.

#voice of the lost #barbie #barbie as the princess and the popstar #livereact