#did i have to get his temper?? i mean i haven’t thrown anybody through a glass door yet but liiiiiike

[ghostofviperwrites]

Suzuki Gunz Crime Family - Chapter 16

Warnings:  criminal activity, explicit language

April 29, 2003

Minoru sat staring at the empty conference table, a long forgotten tumbler of scotch near his right hand that tapped impatiently on the wooden surface.   Minoru was a man that thrived on plans and contingency plans to those plans.  He didn’t like when things didn’t follow their expected path.  Not only had things veered off course, but they had taken twists and turns he hadn’t even considered.  That was what had Minoru in such a foul mood. He prided himself on seeing what no one else did, and the last few months had proven him fallible. 

Since Los Ingobernables had come into their lives Minoru was learning some valuable lessons.  Lessons that tasted like bitter crow at the moment, but he knew they were going to help him become a stronger leader at the end of it all.   He just had to push back at the sting to his pride look at things from an outsider’s perspective. 

The bonds of trust were still tenuous at best between the Guns and Ingos, but they were slowly forming.   The two groups worked rather well together when they weren’t trying to kill each other.   The fact that there hadn’t been any major bloodshed was being counted as a victory in Minoru’s book.  Especially considering more than half of his kobun had wanted to murder Evil over the course of their weapons training.   Minoru was positive the feeling was mutual. 

Taka was very good at what he did, but when it came to Bushi and his intelligence gathering skill the Guns always seemed a step behind, a fact the Ingos delighted in.   It rankled thinking you were the best only to discover you weren’t.   Rather than letting his shortcomings bring him down he was honing his skills, shadowing Bushi on the daily and trying to soak in every bit of knowledge the masked man had.   Minoru had been concerned as Bushi hadn’t seemed willing to share the secrets of his trade, but over the past week or so he had begrudgingly started sharing tidbits with Taka.  

Aside from Evil’s training and Taka’s shadowing of Bushi, Minoru hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the other Ingobernables brethren.   In fact, until a few hours ago he hadn’t heard so much as a peep.   The phone call from Naito had been the precursor for the council meeting Minoru had called.  The reason he was sitting in this empty conference room stewing at being one step behind yet again.   He shouldn’t be receiving news second hand.  How did the Ingos always manage to get one foot up on them?

It was a solemn group who filed into the room one by one, their moods a direct reflection of their boss’s.  They didn’t know what had him in a snarl, but his tone had made it clear he wasn’t to be trifled with. 

“Does anyone care to fill me in on why Tetsuya Naito has to call me to impart information?” Minoru growled flashing a murderous glance around the table, watching as eyes lowered from his and bodies shifted uncomfortably before pinning his glare on Taka.  

Taka shriveled beneath Minoru’s censure, sinking back in his chair and swallowing hard.  

“Tell me Taka, what is Naito coming to tell me?” Minoru asked coldly. 

“I…I don’t know sir.”  Taka said softly lowering his head in shame.  

“Anybody?” Minoru asked turning his sharp eyes on the rest of his kobun.  “Does anybody in this fucking room know anything?”   Rising to his feet and slamming his palms down on the table with a resounding smack as nobody spoke up. 

“Tranquillo Minoru,” Naito’s voice from the doorway had them all spinning towards the sound finding the Los Ingobernables leader leaning insolently against the frame.

“How the fuck do you always get in my goddamn house?”  Minoru shouted throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

“And I will not tranquillo” He spat as he sat back in his seat.  “Not when I’m always in the fucking dark.”

Naito sniffed and cast a disparaging look at the assembled men, making his way to the end of the table and taking a seat, throwing his feet up on the polished surface.

“Yes.  Once again it seems it falls to us to fill you in.”  Naito said with a frown.  “Your lack of….diligence for want of a better word, is troubling my comrades.”  He stared dispassionately at Minoru.  “They’re beginning to question our alliance.   Wondering what you bring to the table?” 

Minoru stayed quiet though he wanted to defend his men.  At this moment he couldn’t.  What had they provided to benefit the Ingos? 

“Evil seems to think we’re doing all the work and you’re getting all the benefit.”  Naito continued.  “He makes a valid point.  And now our families are oh so conveniently bound together.” 

Lance shot to his feet with a growl, sneering at Naito.

“You morons are the ones that insisted on the fucking marriages!” 

“Lance sit down and shut up!  This isn’t the time.” Minoru barked staring down the larger man until he slid back into his seat. 

Naito smirked and nodded in concession to Lance with a slight bow of his head.  

“We came to you because you showed promise.”  Naito said looking around the room.  “I still think you have promise.  My boys are a little more impatient than I am, but they’ll come around.  We are family after all.”  His tooth filled grin earned a snarl from Davey. 

“In case you haven’t noticed we’re in the middle of a fucking war!”  Davey exploded.  “Can you quit wasting time with your bullshit?” 

As Naito stared impassively back at him Davey’s fist clenched, itching to bury themselves in his smug face.  Seeing things quickly escalating Minoru stepped in. 

“Davey’s correct.  Time is of the essence.  We don’t have time for your little games.” Minoru said through gritted teeth.  “Now, did you come here to flagellate us for our shortcomings or do you actually have something to say?” 

Stretching languidly just to irk Minoru’s already frayed temper, Naito slowly lowered his feet to the ground in a big show before getting serious.  

“Chaos imploded two days ago.”  He began ignoring the outbursts the announcement brought.   “Civil war within.  Several high ranking members broke rank and joined up with Bullet Club.  Including Okada’s right hand man Gedo.  Which means you have been given the gift of time.” 

Naito watched their reactions, ranging from utter disbelief to spat curses, Taichi and Kanemaru immediately huddling together and whispering fervently. 

“How do you figure we have more time?”  Zack spoke up.  “The time to strike is now.  While they’re distracted by their own drama we take them down.” 

Naito stared blandly at him before closing his eyes and rubbing his temples and giving an annoyed sigh. 

“Nooo.”  He said drawing out the vowels.  “What you do is sit back, let them fuck each other up and then pick up the pieces.  There’s no sense wasting firepower on them when they can do it themselves.” 

Loud rumblings filled the room, voices throwing their opinions around, talking over each other and quickly escalating to a cacophony of noise.

‘I said what I needed to say.  I have places to be.”  Naito said rising from his seat and heading towards the door.  He paused at the doorway looking back over the room.  “You’re time is running short on providing some benefit to the Ingobernables.  I suggest you start making yourselves useful or we may have to rethink this business arrangement. Things can always happen to sever familial ties.”  

Silence descended as Naito made his proclamation and left, tension in the air as they tried to process both his news and ultimatum. 

“He’s not wrong.”  Desperado said after a few minutes of quiet.  “We’ve done fuck all to benefit the Ingos.  Besides pay them for some guns.”  He shrugged.  “Since Iizuka got shot we’ve been holed up like a bunch of pussies and running around with our tails between our legs.   We’re not living up to what we are.  What we can be.” 

“I don’t blame them one bit for being aggravated with us.”   Kanemaru seconded.  “We let this setback throw us off and have let Los Ingos dictate everything since they showed up.  We need to stop being pushovers and bring something to the damn table.” 

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, everyone looking around not wanting to acknowledge the truth in Despy and Kanemaru’s words, but unable to deny them.  

“I agree with Naito.”  Taichi finally said garnering everyone’s attention.  “We let Bullet Club and Chaos destroy each other and then we come in and clean up the scraps.” 

Minoru sat back listening to the various arguments being thrown about the room, both in favor of Taichi’s recommendation and against, siphoning through the logistics as he considered every angle.  Holding a hand up he brought silence to the room, commanding their attention. 

“For now we’re going to wait.” Minoru declared.  “We’re going to watch and wait.”

Protests immediately sprang from those in contention, Lance’s voice the loudest as he bitched about sitting back and doing nothing.  

“We’re not doing nothing.”  Minoru said sharply.  “We’re going to learn, we’re going to figure out every nuance of this war and we’re going to strike when the time is right.  Naito has a point.  There is no sense in risking our lives and wasting our reserves when they can do it themselves.  When they’re at their weakest we will take them both out and take over their territories. Maybe Taka can redeem himself and get some actual intel for a change.” 

“In the meantime, we need to pull our heads out of our asses and start showing what Suzuki Gun is all about.” 

May 17, 2003

The sleek red Ferrari Spider glided to a stop in front of a dilapidated building, the occupants peering out the front windshield doubtfully. 

“You sure this is the right place?”  Minoru asked skeptically from the passenger’s seat.   Sliding his sunglasses back up into his hair Minoru looked over at the driver’s seat where Kanemaru was leaning over the steering wheel peering at what was supposed to be the headquarters for Los Ingobernables.  

With a frown Kanemaru pulled out his phone, double checking the address Hiromu had texted.  Given this was their first visit to LIJ territory he was concerned they had the wrong place.  This certainly didn’t look like the home front of a very successful arms group. 

“That’s the address they gave us.” Kanemaru confirmed. 

Slowly the two men exited the low slung vehicle, Kanemaru making his way to Minoru’s side as they hesitated until the door was pushed open.

“You boys going to stand out here all day or you coming in?”  Bushi asked holding the door open expectantly. 

Walking into the building Minoru looked at the run down cheap furniture littering the small office space making no effort to hide his distaste at the dirty surroundings. 

“I really don’t think anyone is going to want to break in here,” Kanemaru said jokingly as Bushi latched five different deadbolts across the door they had just walked through. 

“You never know.”  Bushi said with a shrug.  “Course leaving that fancy car out there I don’t think they’ll bother with our humble abode.”  

“Shit!”  Kanemaru moaned looking at his brand new car through the window.  “Nobody better touch my fucking car.”  

 “Follow me.”  Bushi said ignoring Kanemaru’s whining.  Both Minoru and Kanemaru looked around in confusion as they didn’t see anywhere to follow him to.  That was until Bushi pushed a hidden button that made the shelving unit on the wall slide out of out of the way revealing a hidden door.  Pulling out a key he opened the door and motioned for Minoru and Kanemaru to proceed him.

Kanemaru had to swallow back his feelings of claustrophobia as they ended up in a room no larger than an elevator and Bushi closed the door behind them.   Through the walls they could hear the shelves slide back into place before Bushi pressed a code into the keypad on the opening another sliding door.  

Kanemaru gladly hurried out of the small space finding a long dark hallway with no end in sight. 

“Is all this really necessary?”  Minoru asked as Bushi lead them down the hall, motion sensitive lights flickering on every so often to illuminate their path.  “It seems a bit paranoid.” 

Bushi stopped, turning around to look at the two men. 

“We have the one thing that everyone wants.  We are the only ones with access to that thing. I’d say it’s very necessary.”  Bushi responded seriously.

Minoru conceded with a nod and they resumed walking.   He supposed he could see their point.  Guns were so heavily outlawed it was nearly impossible to get them in Japan.  At this point, LIJ were the only source for distribution.   Minoru could only imagine how many people wanted to get their hands on what the Ingos had.  And what they were willing to do to get them. 

They walked for at least ten minutes, taking so many twists and turns and going through so many doorways that Minoru knew there wasn’t a chance he would be able to make it through here on his own.   He supposed that was LIJ’s intention as well.  Despite the budding relationship between the two factions, trust was still hard to come by.   For the past several weeks the families had been working closely together.   The Guns arms shipment had been smuggled in and Evil had worked closely with each member until they were proficient to his standards with each weapon, but the Ingos were still wary on this new alliance and some of them weren’t shy in letting the Guns know their feelings.  

Expecting yet another door leading down yet another hallway Minoru and Kanemaru were surprised when Bushi led them up a staircase that opened into an opulent sitting room littered with leather couches and marble flooring that was more in line with their expectations for the LIJ headquarters.  

Bushi asked leading them over to the full sized bar along the back while where a pretty Japanese girl was leaning against the counter. 

“Get them some drinks,” Bushi told the girl, swatting her on the behind and making her yelp as she scurried around the bar.   

“That’s Masae.  She’s Hiromu’s…friend.”  Bushi explained vaguely waving his hand towards the girl who was quickly filling the requested drinks for Minoru and Kanemaru.  

“I thought Hiromu liked men?”  Minoru asked thinking back to their encounters with the strange man.   He had gotten the distinct impression Hiromu had a thing for Taka. 

“Hiromu likes everything.”  Bushi said with a laugh.  “He doesn’t discriminate.” 

“So you put Hiromu’s girl to work?”  Kanemaru asked looking over at Masae with interest. 

“Bitch needs to earn her keep somehow,” Bushi responded with a lift of one shoulder. 

“Fuck you Bushi.”  Masae snapped pushing the two drinks across the counter and glaring at Bushi. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll get my turn.”  Bushi smirked.  “Hiromu’s gonna get bored like he always does and then you’re fair game.”  

Leading them through another doorway Bushi gave them a mini tour pointing out the offices and introducing them to various employees of the family.   They stumbled across Hiromu and Naito in the game room, in the middle of a rousing street race on one of the systems. 

“Your woman is getting a bit comfortable Hiromu,” Bushi said as he poked his head through the door as he was leading Kanemaru and Minoru down towards their meeting room.  

“I’m almost done with her.”  Hiromu replied absently not taking his focus off the TV.  “Be patient Bushi-san.” 

“We’ll be there in two minutes.”  Naito promised. 

Their journey continued, Bushi seemingly following pulsing music coming from the end of the hallway.  Knocking loudly on the door Bushi yelled for Evil and Sanada before continuing on his way, leading Minoru and Kanemaru towards LIJ’s meeting room.

Minoru pulled up short causing Kanemaru to bump into his back when Bushi pushed open the door and they found it already occupied.   A stern looking man with a goatee and shoulder length black hair with the sides shaved stared back at them appraisingly.

“Minoru, Kanemaru…meet Shingo.”  Bushi said without elaboration.

“Who the fuck is Shingo?”   Kanemaru asked, his hand trailing nervously to his waistband, finger itching for his trigger.  This was a surprise and he did not like surprises. 

“Shingo is our brother and if you pull on him you will both die.”  Bushi warned.

“You didn’t tell us there was another member of your family.”  Minoru said lowly through clenched teeth warily keeping his eye on the man who hadn’t moved a muscle since they walked in. 

“There’s a lot we don’t tell you.” Bushi said flatly pushing past them into the room, taking the seat next to Shingo.  “Shingo has been in the States taking care of some business for us.  He’s home now, so get used to him.”  

Minoru and Kanemaru shuffled in, taking seats at the opposite side of the table.  Inwardly Minoru was seething at the blatant disrespect to Ingobernables were showing him and his family.  Shingo grinned at them as they sat, eyeing them challengingly making them groan as the rest of the Ingobernables filtered in.  

“Another fucking Naito,” Minoru groused.  “Just fucking great.” 

#Suzuki gunz crime family #sgcf #Suzuki gunz fanfic #Suzuki gunz imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywiting #ghostofviperwrites

[setaripendragon]

Freedom to Chuse

Sorry I haven’t been posting much lately. I’ve fallen head-first into a new fandom, and most everything I’ve been writing has been such self-indulgent nonsense that I daren’t post it XD I think I’m starting to get it out of my system, though, so hopefully there might even be some other Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell fics from me soon. I finished watching the series for the second time a couple of days ago, and this just sort of poured out of me at 3am. I don’t know why, but I actually really like Sir Walter? Idk, maybe it’s that bit at the end where he’s like ‘Emma has said she’d rather be dead than as she is now, so I’m going to do everything in my power to help her, even if it might kill her’, like dayum son, now that is how you respect a lady’s autonomy. (I know he kind of cocked that up, too, but, idk, so many people in that show were running around not giving two figs what anybody else wanted, it felt poignant all the same.) So, yeah, post-series (with some influence from the book which I’m currently half-way through), Walter/Emma renegotiating their marriage after everything.

Lady Emma Pole – Miss Emma Wintertowne, as she thought she might rather be from now on – sat at her vanity, waiting for her maid to come and help her begin packing for her trip to the continent. There was a tentative knock at the door, and Emma sighed, irrationally irritated by the delicate caution everyone seemed to be treating her with of late. “Yes, yes, Sarah, come in.” She called impatiently.

The door clicked open, and an entirely unfeminine voice said; “It is not Sarah.” Emma startled, and turned her head to see Walter standing in the doorway, an oddly sheepish, wry little smile curling his mouth. The tentative humour was an expression that suited him, Emma thought, but it slipped away almost as soon as she had thought it, replaced with a touch of strain about the eyes and lips pressed into a tight line. He cleared his throat softly. “May I come in?” He requested, and only then did Emma realise that he had, indeed, been staying just the other side of the threshold.

“Yes, of course.” Emma replied, feeling just a little uncertain herself, now. True, this was her room, and true, her earlier permission had been for Sarah, and not for him, but… It was Walter’s house, and she had given permission for him to enter.

Walter stepped inside, reached for the door as if to close it behind him, and then hesitated. He looked to Emma, one eyebrow raised, indicating the door in question. Asking… for permission? Emma was not quite sure, but she nodded regardless, and Walter swung the door shut gently, before proceeding a little further into the room. His expression settled, then, smoothed out, and Emma recognised it as the one he often wore in the mornings, on his way out the door to parliament. It was how he looked when he was readying himself for a fight, if only a verbal one, and it made Emma tense up in answer.

Perhaps Walter noticed, because he was half way through saying “I wanted t-” before he stopt mid-word, and closed his mouth so fast his teeth clicked, looking unsettled. He cast about for a moment, leaving Emma more tense than ever and even more bewildered, before he asked, in an unusually quiet sort of voice; “Perhaps I- That is, may I please sit?” He asked, gesturing to a neglected little chair in the corner.

Emma blinked, thrown once again entirely off-kilter, but nodded slowly. Walter retrieved the chair from its corner, and sat. There was a little less than half the room between them, still, and Emma began to realise that everything she had taken for a very strange hesitance in a man who was master of his own home was actually consideration. He had not entered her space without an explicit invitation, he had not closed the door – and sealed her only escape route – without her permission, and he was now keeping a distance between them, sitting to avoid looming over her, hesitating to speak while she was still so tense.

It was a stilted attempt at kindness, and Emma felt herself bending in the face of it, if only a little. “What is it, Walter?” She asked, trying to gentle her tone in turn, even if she wasn’t at all sure she succeeded.

Walter tried for a smile, although it sat uneasily on his face. “Ah, I have come to apologise.” He said, simple and to the point, but it still made Emma’s jaw clench. Apologies were worse than useless to her, and she did not care to hear them, but before she could say as much, Walter raised his hands, palm out, to stop her. Emma might not have, even then, except the gesture was eerily reminiscent of a surrender, and it stalled her just long enough for him to say; “Please, my d- Emma, if I may- please, hear me out.”

He was begging. Awkward as a man entirely unaccustomed to begging, but still sincere. She could tell it was sincere, because even though she didn’t speak for nearly a full minute, watching him in confusion and suspicion, he didn’t press his point. He waited, once again, for her permission. “Alright.” She agreed, slumping back in her chair and bracing herself. She could at least hear him out. His consideration for her had earned him that much in turn, she supposed.

Walter took a deep breath, and then began to speak. It had the air of a rehearsed speech, but Emma suspected it was not so much planned as simply something that he had been thinking over for a long time – perhaps all day – trying and retrying his words until he had a more solid idea of the shape of his arguments.

“I know it does you little good now, and I am not- That is to say, I have not come here in any way expecting your forgiveness. But I must at least tell you how… how desperately sorry I am for my part in all you have suffered.” He began, and then paused. He could not meet her eyes, Emma noticed. He was speaking mostly to the wall over her shoulder, hands pressed together as if in prayer between his knees, elbows braced upon his thighs.

It took another cleared throat before he could continue. “I will offer you no justifications or platitudes, I know we’re both aware that I thought I was doing the best thing I could, at the time, but-” His eyes flickered to hers for a brief moment over a rueful grimace. “But I was wrong. I could have done better, I should have been a better husband to you. I should have listened, I should not have jumped to conclusions, I should not have trusted Norrell. I should not have prevented Mrs Strange from visiting, I should not have confined you.” He paused, head tilted a little, and then tried for a smile. “I will not say I should not have sent you to Starecross, because I rather think that was one of the better choices I made, even if it was not wholly mine, nor did I have any idea how beneficial it would be in the end.”

Emma snorted, moved to humour even if it was of a dark sort, and she thought she saw Walte’s smile turn relieved before he ducked his head to hide it. “It was not as though I could have told you what was happening, even had you been listening.” She pointed out. It was not exactly forgiveness, but she could not deny that she could understand, if only begrudgingly, why had had acted as he had. “And I was…” She paused, and tried to find the right word. “…a little erratic in my behaviour.”

“You were desperate.” Walter interjected, in the tone of one dismissing a point raised by the opposition.

Emma looked at him for a long moment, long enough to have his eyebrows rising in confused surprize. It almost made her smile, although there was a sardonic twist to her lips that ruined the expression, she thought. “So were you.”

Walter laughed at that, a tiny huff of bitter amusement as he dropped his head again to stare down at his hands. “Perhaps so, but still, I- I find myself running back over the things I did and the choices I made, and seeing- seeing so many better options. I should have trusted you, should have trusted that you were not simply lost to rationality, that you knew your own mind, and if- if you were having problems, then you might know how best to fix them, not I.”

Emma found she had nothing to say to that, because he was right, and they both knew it. He caught her eye for a moment, and smiled again, bitter and knowing, and nodded. “As I said, I do not ask for your forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I only wished to tell you that I will endeavour to do better from now on.”

That made Emma frown, because she thought she had made it clear, this morning, that she would not be staying in Harley Street, that she would not be staying with him. She was free of the Gentleman with the Thistle-Down Hair, and by god, she would be free of all others, too, even her husband. “If this is your way of attempting to convince me to stay-” She began, heatedly.

“It is not.” Walter interrupted. Emma glared at him for that, but now he was meeting her stare, level and solemn. It was not a challenge, not quite, but it was a sort of defiance. It felt like he was daring her to find any hint of deceit in his countenance, and she had to admit she couldn’t.

“What is it, then?” Emma demanded, feeling frustrated and confused. “What do you want?”

Walter sighed again, and Emma glared at him impatiently. “I want you to know that I never wished for your confinement. I never desired your obedience.” Emma scoffed, and Walter shook his head in a frustration of his own. “Yes, sometimes I may have wished that you would listen to me, but do not mistake a momentary frustration for any sort of desire for your subservience!” He snapped, startling Emma. His loss of temper seemed to startle him as well, and he slumped back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. “Forgive me, Emma, I did not mean to shout.” He sighed.

Emma considered that, and then decided rather than offering forgiveness, she would ignore the loss of composure. “You locked me up when I would not do as you wished.” She pointed out.

“Because I was afraid you would do yourself harm.” Walter replied wearily. “But… Emma, before things turned- I loved you for your spiritedness, for your boldness and, yes, even your defiance.” He smiled then, such a gentle and tender expression that Emma found herself utterly struck by it. “If you wish to go to the continent, Emma, I will not stop you. If you wish to never step foot in this house again, I will not make you. If- If you wish never to see my face again, I shall not- I shall not impose upon you.” That last caused him pain just to utter, Emma could see it, could hear it in the way his voice broke, and she swallowed against her own emotions as they tried to rise to meet his. “But I could not bear the thought of you leaving while you still believed that I-” He stopt and shook his head, apparently unable to find words.

Still, Emma thought she understood what he was trying to say. “And if I wished to slit my own wrists again?” She asked him, coldly.

Walter’s head jerked up, eyes wide with very real fear, and Emma almost felt sorry for doing this to him, but she could not – she would not – let him believe that he was not her gaoler by telling himself pretty lies about how he would safeguard her free will, so long as what she willed was acceptable. “E-Emma?” He asked, voice shaking.

“If I wished, sir, to take my own life, would you stop me?” She demanded. And then she rose to her feet, unable to remain sitting, and began to pace. “If I wished to- to take up magic as a hobby, would you stop me? If I wished to bathe naked in the Thames, would you stop me?”

“I do not-” Walter began, looking thoroughly taken-aback, and Emma was suddenly furious with him for it. She strode across the room to him, stood over him, looming quite deliberately in the way he refused to do to her, and stared him down.

“What are the limits, sir? Where is the line? You’ll respect my freedom, you say, but is it truly unconditional, or is it simply a greater degree of freedom, until? Until what? Until I hurt myself again? Until I shame you? Until I harm you? Until I harm someone else? At what point will you decide, once again, that I am clearly mad and should be locked away at the mercy of men and strangers?!”

“I-” Walter began, and then stopt, looking deeply distressed. “I do take your point, Emma.” He acknowledged carefully, and Emma wanted to scream at him. “But you- No, that is not- For god’s sake, Emma, what would you have me say?”

“The truth.” Emma demanded. “Be honest with me, Walter. How far does your belief in my freedom extend?”

Walter ran his hands over his face, looking rather wild-eyed. “It is not as though it is solely up to me, Emma. At least some of the things you asked about are crimes. Good Lord, what do you expect would happen if you tried to shoot someone again?! They’d hang you!”

“I’m not asking about them!” Emma yelled, sudden and far louder than anything else they’d said so far, even when their tempers got the better of them. Walter flinched. Emma took a breath, and lowered her voice. “I’m not asking the law, Walter, I’m asking you.” Her voice shook, and she hated the weakness it betrayed. “Do you truly wish to champion my freedom to act as I chuse, or is it simply that now that you expect me to once again act within the bounds you have determined as reasonable, you feel you can offer me the illusion of it and so gain yourself some peace of mind?”

Walter did not answer straight away, only staring at her with wide, stunned eyes. Emma was content to wait. She did not want him to blurt out the first answer he wanted to be true. She wanted him to truly think about it, to question his own resolve now, and not at a moment later, when she would be depending on him to have her back, and he would falter.

In that moment, she had a revelation of her own. She wanted him to be sincere. It was a shock, because in the wake of her imprisonment and her newly regained freedom, she had forgotten a time, before the enchantment, before magic, that Walter had been… someone she had thought would be very easy to love. It was different, now, of course. Then, she would not have railed so fiercely against restrictions of any sort, she would have accepted his authority over her as her husband because that was simply how things were done. She could not accept anything of the sort, now, but she was not a different person. She was not so thoroughly changed that there wasn’t a small kernel of longing in her, for the sort of companionship and affection they had shared so briefly before the enchantment took its toll.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Walter moved. Her jaw sagged open as he shifted forwards, slid off the chair entirely, and lowered himself to one knee before her. “Emma.” He began, his voice suffused with feeling. “I cannot promise that I will not argue with you, that I will not fight you with words if ever you chuse to do something I do not agree with. But I give you my word that I’ll never again attempt to restrain you by force, no matter what you chuse to do.”

Emma’s eyes stung, but she found herself smiling regardless. She felt shaky and giddy and a little wild. She reached out and brushed her fingers over Walter’s cheek, her heart skipping a beat when he turned his face into her touch just a little. “Good. You know, I think I should enjoy arguing with you, on occasion.” She mused through a growing smile.

Walter laughed, a little shaky himself, but he was also smiling up at her with a joyful light in his eyes. “I am at your service.” He promised, half joking, and half very much not. Emma thrilled with it, biting her lip on a grin that was taking a turn towards the wicked, and then bent down to kiss him.

#Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell #Sir Walter Pole #Lady Emma Pole #Is there a ship name for them? #Walter/Emma

[splendidlyimperfect]

here comes the sun

Gratsu Week 2k18 Day 7 Prompt: sun

Summary:  You’re sixteen and grieving when Natsu bursts into your life, warm and open and full of toothy smiles. You hate him immediately. Rating: Teen and up audiences Pairing: Natsu/Gray Word Count: 1377 Warnings: grief, suicidal thoughts, self-harm Read on AO3

You have a hard heart, and you don’t care who knows it. People scratch the surface, sometimes – people you might trust if you hadn’t lost everything. The walls you’ve built around yourself are the only things that keep you safe – they hold the broken pieces together so they don’t shatter into a billion fragments of what used to be you. You’re not afraid.  

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here

You’re sixteen and grieving when Natsu bursts into your life, warm and open and full of toothy smiles. You hate him immediately. He’s energetic and loud and vulnerable, and you can see him through your bedroom window at night, playing his stupid guitar and singing along to dumb songs that nobody likes. When he waves to you, you close your blinds. You’re not letting him in.

You don’t let anybody in. The summer days are long and lonely and you rarely leave your room. Ur tries to get you to come out, to talk with her, to get to know Lyon, but they’re not your family. She’s just the person your parents chose to deal with you if they died. And they did.  

Your room stays dark and your computer is on nearly all the time, and all you do is scroll through stupid memes that don’t make you laugh. When you feel like crying you pinch yourself or scratch your arms until you bleed. Ur asks about the marks and you tell her you must be allergic to something. You can tell she doesn’t believe you.  

Here comes the sun Here comes the sun and I say It’s all right

The new school sucks. Ur tries her best but she’s not your parents, not the mom you miss and miss until your heart feels like it’s going to break. You try to push those memories away, build up taller walls to keep out thoughts of snowball fights and baking cookies and going to the fair to eat too much cotton candy. It hurts too much. You’re tired of the pain.

“You okay?” Natsu asks one day, after the kids in gym class tease you mercilessly and you decide fuck gym class and run away to your spot at the top of the ravine. Nobody comes here. There’s a fence you have to climb and a precarious ledge you have to maneuver, and then you’re at the peak of the ravine and you can see down, down, down nearly two hundred feet to the river.  

Sometimes you want to jump. Today is one of those days.  

“Fuck off,” you reply, inching closer to the edge and crouching down by the barrier. It would be easy to climb over, to spread your arms and jump. You wonder what it would feel like to glide down through the air, then crash into the hard dirt. You imagine that your ribs would shatter, exploding through your chest, and your face would be scraped away by rocks and dirt. You imagine it would be a painful way to die.  

You wonder if your parents died in pain.  

“Why are you angry?” Natsu asks, sitting down beside you. His jeans are torn and his face is bruised and you tell yourself you don’t care why.  

“My parents died,” you say and the words come out by accident. You want to shove them back in, force them behind the wall where they can rot and fester and hurt nobody. “It doesn’t matter.”  

“Yes it does,” Natsu says.  

You sit in silence for a while. Natsu hums a song you don’t recognize and at first you tell him to shut up, but he ignores you and eventually it becomes background noise to an afternoon that maybe isn’t that bad after all.  

When you leave, you offer him your hand to help him over the fence. His fingers are warm and he squeezes yours before darting off toward home.  

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here

“You’re smiling,” Ur remarks, and you immediately scowl at her, grabbing a granola bar from the counter and heading for the front door. You pretend not to hear when she adds, “Your mom would be happy to see you smile.”  

You meet Natsu at the end of the driveway and he grins at you, then heads toward the school. This has become a routine – entirely by accident, you maintain. He’s just so obnoxious that you can’t be bothered to make him leave you alone. Right?  

He talks and talks and talks and sometimes you wonder how he has the energy to make all these words. When you try to respond the syllables get stuck in your throat and you end up shrugging or shaking your head. Natsu seems to know what you mean, though. You’re not sure how he does that.  

Somehow you end up eating lunch together every day. Not in the cafeteria because fuck everyone else in this high school, but on the lawn by the football field where you can stretch out and warm yourself in the sun.  

Sometimes you do homework together – Natsu’s terrible at reading so one day you start reading out loud and the words flow and flow and eventually it becomes a thing. At first it’s just textbooks but then one day he brings you a novel you’ve never heard of and gives you a look, and you shrug and start reading like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do with someone you just hang out with occasionally.  

You still can’t talk outside of books, but it doesn’t seem to matter.  

Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say It’s all right

Somewhere along the way Natsu becomes your friend. You smile around him and he teases you about it for days, but you don’t really mind. When you go to bed at night some of the thoughts of your parents are replaced by pink hair and goofy grins and freckles.  

It hits you one day that you haven’t thought about dying in a long time. You tell Natsu over lunch and he gives you a look that you can’t quite discern. Then he reaches out and hugs you and you melt into it like this is what you’ve needed all along. He doesn't say anything when his shirt has a damp patch on it after the embrace.  

When you get home and look at the calendar, you realize it’s been a year since they died.  

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear

You invite Natsu over for a movie one night and Lyon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads but you tell him to mind his own business. You can talk to him now, and the words don’t stick as badly.  

Natsu picks the movie but you aren’t really watching it. All you can focus on is the heat of his arm against yours and the way he leans into you when something particularly funny happens. He laughs with his whole body, head thrown back, nose wrinkled, and suddenly you can’t help it. You grab his hand in yours and he turns to you and his eyes are wide, and then he smiles that wide smile that you’ve come to love and leans in and kisses you.  

It’s the first time you’ve been kissed and it’s overwhelming, the sensations running through your stomach and making your fingers tingle. Then your fingers are in his hair and his hands are on your hips and everything is sparks and fire and soft sounds against each other’s skin.  

Here comes the sun Here comes the sun and I say It’s all right It’s all right

It always hurts. You miss them every day and sometimes it hits you out of nowhere and you cry and cry until you can’t breathe. But the sharpness is dulled, the anger is tempered, and you smile more easily now. Natsu is the sun and he burns through the darkness, pushing it away and kissing you until you feel like you can’t breathe.  

It still hurts.  

But it’s finally all right.  

#gratsuweek2k18 #ftfanfics #ftlgbtfics #ftlgbtales #gratsu

[ancient-trees]

So, tell me about your fictional children! I like hearing about people's characters! ^^

Thank you for asking! Putting this under a cut because it’s really long. Includes minor spoilers, especially for Tamuran, but nothing earth-shatteringly major unless you haven’t read the comic.

tl;dr:Varony: monster nerdEffire: snarky cobra nerdMath: grumpy old man nerdEmmie: +10 EPIC NERD also the best grandma

Versinthenet: dragon nerdRathe: swordie nerdPerrath: overly helpful nerd (w/ bonus cool doggo)Sukah: Gandalf is on strikeAleoth: the angstiest nerd

and Artreias: mostly an asshole (secretly a huge nerd on the inside, don’t tell anybody)

NERDS ALL NERDS.okay, read on:

I’ll start with Tamuran - I assume that’s what most people are following me for:

Varony you know if you read the comic - he’s the guy in my Tumblr icon. He belongs to a race of big arboreal predators that live deep in very dangerous forests, but for now he’s (sort of but not quite voluntarily) bound in the form of a big gangly human. For the most part he is okay with this arrangement (all except for the new “possibly permanent” aspect - see recent events in the comic). He’s endlessly curious, and he thinks humans are the weirdest, most bewilderingly fascinating things he’s ever encountered. He’s been human-shaped for (most of) about six years at this point - shortly after he was changed, he was found and taken in by a clan of traveling merchants, who taught him language and basically How To Human. They became a second family to him, as have the Ragtag Band of Adventurers he’s currently found his lot thrown in with, but sometimes he misses the trees.

Uh, stuff that I don’t think has been covered in the comic already: Back home, Varony (or Hhr'skhygh - approximation of his *growly-noises* real name) lived with his pack, which included his mother and three older siblings. His sister’s pretty cool, his brothers are jerks. He’s a good hunter, but his pack always saw him as something of a weirdo - asks too many pointless questions, wants to know EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING. When he was little he used to love listening to his grandfather tell his people’s folktales, and legends about the outside world. And yes, he’s officially ace/aro, species notwithstanding. Humans just complicate it even more - his people’s mating rituals are pretty straightforward, while humans’ involve all sorts of flirting and bizarre games that catch him off-guard (and have gotten him into a few ..uncomfortable situations in the past, if you want to know what the deal was with him freaking out on poor Jadsira in chapter 14).

Effire is a Morphus - one of the magical, long-lived Tu Naul race who was born with shapeshifting abilities. All Morphyx get bound into a single animal form and magically bonded to a “worthy” human (for the duration of the human partner’s life) as a sort of cultural exchange/community service. Effire was never too keen on that idea, especially after he found out his partner would be a Zharus Guardsman, and ESPECIALLY after his own bonded form turned out to be a cobra. But after getting used to one another, Effire found that his partner Morgen was a dreamer and idealist with a brain that never stopped - far from the meatheaded soldier-for-hire he was expecting. After their Zharus Academy training was complete, they were hired by the Patriarch of Tamuran to work palace intelligence and security and to keep an eye on the Patriarch’s elder sons as part of their personal guard (much to Prince Johlan’s irritation).

Effire tends to be cynical and sharp-tempered, but he means well. He would do anything for Morgen, whom he loves fiercely. He’s always liked exploring, especially poking around in places he’s not supposed to be. His favorite animals to turn into before he was bound were falcons, swallows, and other quick, agile birds - it was a pretty big blow to be stuck in a form that doesn’t even have limbs. Being part of a prince’s royal guard at least means he’s gotten to travel from time to time, and between Morgen and palace goings-on his life is seldom boring… though the way things have gone lately, he’s starting to really wish for boring…

Mathim hasn’t shown up in the comic yet - the Atriand-side plotline follows his story. He’s a former colonel in the Atriand army who was discharged early for an injury that never healed right, and at this point he’s retired to a town out in the wilderness, a cantankerous old bastard who spends his time drinking too much and cussing out the neighbor kids. His troublemaking teenaged grandson - the only living family he isn’t estranged from - disappeared about a year ago without a trace, though Math’s suspicions lean toward sorceric activity. When strangers pass through town bringing odd rumors, it might finally be the key Math needs to find the kidnappers. But Math has secrets - he was born with a forbidden form of magic, a dangerous, volatile power that has terrified him all his life. The same power that he passed on to his grandson, the power that made the boy a target of sorcerers in the first place. And now Math is going to need to unlock that power if he wants to have any hope of saving his boy…

Emianna was supposed to be a minor character, but she insisted on becoming a lot more important than we’d planned (and I’m glad she did). She’s Math’s wife, who died a few years before the comic story but still plays a big role in it. She was a huge nerd and avid naturalist, though poor health kept her working in libraries rather than pursuing science in the field. The daughter of a prominent Atriand military family, she used to pretend to be a bit daft at her family’s social functions, so that ambitious suitors would focus their attention on her sisters and leave her alone. At least until a shy young officer in search of a restroom literally stumbled over her reading in a closet during one of those parties… 

Emmie likes: books, books, and more books, SCIENCE, yaoi. And also being Gramma Emmie to her family - she’ll make you some amazing cookies, but you might have to pry her out of her lab to do it.

Novel characters: From several books, which are intended (if all goes well) to fit together like puzzle pieces and thus are sort-of in development at the same time (in other words, my notes are a mess).  Standard disclaimer that nothing is 100% canon till the books are finished.

Versinthenet is a dragon. In my setting, dragons are features of the landscape - half-physical, half-spirit beings that come into existence in places where intense magic pools and snags, and serve to tie Magic to the physical world. They can’t physically travel far from their magic “nodes,” but they can use the tides of Magic to communicate with other dragons and watch events as they unfold elsewhere in the world and also stupid cat videos.  Most dragons are located far from human settlements, but some of the ones who do live near humans use their influence over local magic to become patron protectors for their area, and in return the humans see to any physical-plane needs they may have. Verse (don’t call him that to his face) was one of these - fairly young as dragons go, he calmed the seas, quelled storms, and ensured good fishing for the people of his island. But centuries of watching human conflicts and atrocities, capped with events involving the death of his closest mentor, have started him questioning whether these people deserve his help after all. Then an idiot wizard shows up with the audacity to try to bind him and use his magic. The binding attempt goes horribly wrong - the wizard dies and Verse finds his consciousness pulled into the wizard’s body, while the rest of his Dragon self, mindless, flies off to wreak havoc, pulling frayed Magic into a hurricane around itself as it goes. Now Verse has to figure out how to set things right, while being blamed for the actions of the wizard who made this mess… before the dragon unleashes its wrath upon the whole island, or the islanders find a way to destroy the revered protector who has betrayed them. (Beyond all that, the consequences of such a tear in the network of magic may be farther-reaching than anyone is prepared for…)

So yeah, he’s not having a very good day.

Rathe is quick, athletic, great with a sword, and wants to be a hero like the ones in the storybooks. Unfortunately, she’s the daughter of a highly-respected family of scholars in a society that abhors all forms of violence and prizes learning and tradition above everything else. Events conspire to lead her away from home and into the life of adventure she’s always craved… but when her wizard traveling companion goes and does something really, really stupid, she’ll find out that heroing is a lot more complicated than she expected… especially when it involves facing personal secrets she thought were buried in the past.

Perrath has had a magical gift since he was a child - the ability to mend things that are broken - and a passion for helping people to go along with it. Unfortunately, one night a mysterious storm blew away all the magic in his village, including his innate talent, and he’s been searching for it ever since, with a sole still-functional(?) finding charm leading the way and his dog at his side (whom he talks to. A lot). He misses his magic, but he’s found that in the meantime he really enjoys a life of wandering - going wherever his finder points him, meeting new people and exploring places he’d never heard of, using his mundane skills to repair people’s things in order to get by. Until he finds himself in a sticky situation out in the uncharted wilds, and learns that promising to fix something for malevolent shadow-demons is maybe not a good idea…

Sukah is a semi-immortal guardian mage, bestowed with certain powers and nobly tasked with the protection of humanity. Only it’s hard to do your job when your partner has long since disappeared, halving your power, and nobody wants your help or even listens to your advice anymore. So he’s watched history unfold from the sidelines, telling himself that if people want to make a huge mess of things that’s their business.  A crisis involving two worlds and the fabric of magic itself, along with the reappearance of someone he’d thought long dead, might be enough to convince him to dust off his old magic and get back in the fight, but by then it might be too late…

Thanks to a valiant sacrifice-beyond-hope made by the parents she’s never known, Aleoth supposedly harbors within her the soul of a great evil… and no one has ever let her forget it. Stifled and stigmatized by those who were supposed to be her protectors, she runs away and takes up with a band of notorious brigands. But whatever she does, she can’t escape the unnerving creature that has haunted her dreams all her life, or the disasters that seem to follow her steps.  When [plot happens] and events begin to come crashing in around her, she’ll have to figure out who and what she is and what she really stands for.

{Bonus shoutout to my college D&D character Artreias, a sorcerer/planewalker from Sigil who got stuck in a shit-ton of trouble thanks to his sketchy mage father’s sketchy past and even more sketchy friends. Treias was a minor noble on his mom’s side, well-to-do and highly educated, but he acted like he was from the streets since all the nobles he ever met were twelve kinds of terrible. He’d do just about anything to protect his family, though (blood family and family-of-choice), especially his younger sister, and including Infuriating Sketchy Dad, whom he loved anyway. Unfortunately the rest of the party characters hated him, since (thanks to the mysterious circumstances that got him thrown into the campaign events) he had a “trust no one” attitude and could be kind of a jerk about it.}

#asks #ask meme #writing #my writing #my characters #tamuran #my novels

[seemeeseeyou]

Through My Eyes

It took her a year to get used to it. A year of walking into walls and people and things that she knew weren’t where they last were when she was last there. She grew more and more frustrated with every stumble and fall. She was so tired of it she “accidentally” fell off the balcony of her room.

That’s when her mother decided that she should be sent away. She was sent out of Arcadia, out of her realm and put somewhere no one would go looking for the cursed princess.

But of course they did. She was in a tower, it’s always a tower, and she had tutors. She learned everything she would have if she were still living in the castle in Arcadia. She thought that maybe it was Polaris, the weather was cold half the year, not temperate and Arcadia’s neighbors to the north were the only cold places she knew of aside from Azgeda and no one comes back from Azgeda.

Aurora Blake, she was Clarke’s chef for years, also made her dresses, trying to support her children in secret. A widowed woman living alone with two children, the world was judgmental and cruel and she’d be executed. She was the only person Clarke spoke to since… not true, she spoke to her suitors. The men trying to save the princess and break the curse with ‘true love’s kiss’ but all that did was give her the knowledge of their deaths. She didn’t want them, she didn’t want her father’s either, but she gained the knowledge and told them. And everyone died. So she’s kept her distance from Aurora, they talked and gained each other’s trust and Clarke found out Aurora was deathly ill a week before she passed.

Clarke cried for the woman who cared so much about her children, who cared about Clarke that when Bellamy Blake showed up the next day, Clarke sent him away to let him mourn, but he refused, they needed the money more than ever now that his mother was dead and he was the only one looking after Octavia.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting into the room with him.

Clarke scoffed. “I don’t know.”

“You look out that window every day, I assume you’d know what’s out there.”

Clarke spun around and found his shadow, or what she thought might be his shadow and looked up at him. “I don’t even know what I look like.”

“You’re—you’re blind?” he asked. He’s been there for six months and Clarke has tried to never show him her eyes.

“I was cursed when I was five. I was protecting my father and because of that love, it turned a spell that was supposed to kill him into a curse that blinded me.”

“So you were thrown in a tower to await Prince Charming and his true love’s kiss.”

“Sardonic,” Clarke smiled and turned back to the window. “We might get along.”

“My mother spoke of you when she wasn’t exhausted.”

“I didn’t work her too hard, did I?”

“No, no,” he said and he sounded honest. “She’d leave you and go to the Inn and work there for a few hours.”

“Is that what you do?”

“I—I tutor.”

“I could ask my mother for a raise for you, you shouldn’t have to overwork yourself.”

“You’re not the only one that’s cursed, Princess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m twenty four and unwed, no one will marry me and I can’t be a professor if I’m unwed.”

”I’ll marry you,” Clarke offered, knowing full well that her mother would never allow it. Hell, he might find her repulsive.

“Brave princess,” he said sounding bemused. “I’m putting the bread on the table.”

“I didn’t tell you so you’d tell me where you’ve placed things or to treat me differently, Bellamy. Frankly, I wish I had nothing to tell.”

“Telling you where I put things would be easier for the both of us. You’ll know so when I come back up here again, I don’t have a mess to clean up.”

“That is true,” Clarke smirked. “Okay, but no more special treatment.”

“I would never,” he sounded half offended and half-jokingly and Clarke liked that he was loosening up around her. “I’m going to head out for the night, is there anything you may want or need from the village?”

“I was hoping for a new dress, I don’t know how you are at seam stressing, your mother made all my dresses because it was more economical and less time consuming and—”

“My sister is the apprentice for the dress maker. I’m sure she would be delighted for the practice.”

“Okay, she’ll need my measurements.”

“I will bring her with me tomorrow. Please don’t say anything about her becoming a dress maker, she has a temper and would much rather be a member of the guard but women aren’t allowed and she has strong feelings about that.”

“No problem, Bellamy. Thank you for everything.”

“It’s my job, your highness.”

“Have a—have a good night.”

“Do you like my brother?” Octavia asked nearly the moment Bellamy closed the door behind him to check on Clarke’s oatmeal.

“He’s helpful, not as talkative as your mother.”

“He said you get offended easily.”

“Octavia, do you know who I am? Why I live alone in this tower with just your brother to help with my day to day chores?”

“N—no.”

“I haven’t actually said this before, not even when I fully realized it so bear with me. I am Princess Clarke Alexandra Griffin of Arkadia, Duchess of TonDC.”

“I didn’t—our mom never—Bellamy… I’m sorry Your Highness. Please forgive me.”

“No need to apologize, I do not want to be the princess. I want to be normal, but I’m not and I have to deal with that. Sit around and wait for prince charming to show up while also secretly hoping that it never happens.”

“Bell said you offered to marry him so he could become a professor. That was very noble of you.”

“A noble wouldn’t do that,” Clarke smirked, hoping Octavia got the joke. “I was being selfish when I said that, I just want out of this tower.”

“Still. He deserves the world.”

“I don’t have a say in what my mother sends so I don’t know what he makes. I do think he should be making more—“

“No, that’s not what I’m… he deserves more than what Nyc can give him. He will never be a professor here, he can tutor children but he wouldn’t be the one teaching him everything and he wouldn’t have to be stressed about money all the time. He deserves that after everything he’s been through.”

“What—what’s he been through?”

“That’s not my place,” Octavia’s voice was somber and Clarke grimaced, letting her get back to work.

“Could I ask you something?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Sure.”

“Why did the queen send you here, to Polaris? Isn’t there somewhere else you could have gone? Somewhere in Arcadia?”

“Probably. I was six, I didn’t really have a say in where I was placed.”

“Wouldn’t you like to go back?”

“When I can see again.”

“You can’t..? You’re looking right at me.”

“It’s like looking through cloth, I can see the shapes and shadows, but not the details. I know where you are, but I don’t know you’re eye or hair color or what you actually look like, just the shape of you.”

“And Bell, you can see him?” her voice was a little nervous, like there was something bad about Clarke seeing Bellamy’s figure and it confused her because she’s seen him. She’s seen his shaggy hair and broad shoulders, she had a feeling that he was handsome, but she could never be certain about it. Will never know what he looks like and it was something Clarke had gotten used to, but for some reason, there was an aching feeling in her gut every time she thought about it.

“Yeah? He’s taller than you, his hair a bushy mess, right?”

Octavia sighed, “Yeah, that’s my idiot brother. I’m—I’m all set with your measurements, I usually draw up a design to show you but…”

“Bellamy, you can show Bellamy and he can decide.”

“Okay, I’ll see you around.”

“Okay.”

Bellamy told her that the dress was blue, a light blue, not like the sky or the ocean, but somewhere between. Clarke didn’t really care, she just wanted it to fit. She wanted to… God, she wanted to stop falling for Bellamy. Every time they spoke she learned something new about him. He raised Octavia, he taught her to go for whatever she wanted and hates that she can’t. He loves looking up at the stars and knowing the stories, he stayed late one night and told them to Clarke, looking out the window she’s always perched at. She wanted to kiss him that night, she’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly in her life and the only thing that stopped her was the repercussions if he wasn’t her true love.

It didn’t matter because Duke Finn Collins of some Azgeda territory she’d never heard of showed up the next day and kissed her and she cried, seeing Commander Lexa’s army stone him to death. She didn’t know why, she never knew why, so she told him his death and he practically ran out of there like the place was on fire, spouting nonsense about her being the witch.

Bellamy asked if she was okay, but she couldn’t tell him that Finn was upset about knowing his death or that she was more upset about never touching Bellamy than about Finn’s indiscretion.

A few days later it was Dax and she told him he was shot by an arrow. Then Atom, asphyxiation. Zoe Monroe, ambush. Luna, Ilian, and Prince Roan of Azgeda (estranged) were all in combat with each other.

Clarke wanted it all to stop and told Bellamy to send people away, she didn’t want to be rescued.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly a few days after Roan left.

“Fine,” she said sounding harsher than she intended.

“Princess, you know you can talk to me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I’d like to think that we’re friends.”

“Me, too.”

“So you can tell me what happens with them.”

“If they’re not the One, I see their death and I have to tell them, I’ve tried not to, but I felt like I was dying when I didn’t. So it just spews out of my mouth so I don’t.”

“So you’re done taking suitors in?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“I’m not in a place to court anybody.”

“I doubt that.”

“Clar—Princess, if you could see me…”

“What I see is a kind and caring man that deserves more than what the world has given him.”

“Man?” he questioned with a scoff and Clarke grimaced.

“Aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“When you told me about your curse, I told you that you weren’t the only one that was cursed. I am too.”

Clarke gasped, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m still me, I can still serve you like my mother and I didn’t think it’d matter but I think I have feelings for you.”

“You think you have feelings?” she asked, trying to hide her smirk.

“I know I do.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you told me about the stars. You made me see them, the way you spoke about them.”

“Give me a few days. There’s a potion that makes me human for twelve hours, it costs a fortune, but I want that, Clarke. I want it more than anything in the world.”

“Why can’t we do it now?”

“Because I’m not…” he sighed and Clarke wished she could see him. “Clarke, I’m a dragon.”

“You’re a… how? Why haven’t I seen that whenever you’re in the room?”

“Because I’m a cursed man? I was born one but it’s a family curse, on my father’s side, we’re dragons until we find our true love and it won’t stop until one of us does.”

“And no one has?”

“No, my father loved my mother, but they weren’t meant to be.”

“And what if we aren’t?”

“You’re worth it.”

“No, I’m not, Bellamy. If we aren’t…”

“If we aren’t and I kiss you, I find out how I die. If we aren’t and we’re here forever, I wouldn’t mind that. I hate leaving every night. I hate that I didn’t tell you, I hate that you didn’t know, but Clarke, I will eternally serve you just to be close to you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking.”

“Then I don’t mind kissing a dragon.”

“Clarke—“

“Bellamy, just bring your face over here, okay?”

“You’re going to kiss my cheek? Does that work?”

Clarke shrugged, “It’s a kiss, right?”

“Yeah, but—“

“I don’t care what they tell the children, a kiss is a kiss. And you want to know how you die, I’m only aiding a masochist and his wishes.”

Bellamy laughed and Clarke felt a presence closer to her before a warm gust of wind tickled her hair. They were both quiet, breaths held, perfectly still and Clarke scoffed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I have scales, Clarke, arrows barely hurt me.”

“Right,” she laughed and bit her lip, reaching her hand up and her fingertips slammed into something hard and Bellamy groaned. “My jaw,” he informed her and Clarke decided that instead of kissing him—okay, not instead, she’s momentarily postponing it—she wanted to feel his face. She’d done it with everyone she’s met except for him and now it makes sense as to why.

“How did you tutor?” she asked, remembering their conversation from months ago.

“Um, I was the smartest in my class, we had ogres and elves and fairies, commoners are more open than nobles and they didn’t care as long as I didn’t singe their homework. I was a hothead back then.”

Clarke laughed, “Is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“No, I am too.”

She nodded, feeling for his jawline again, finding the corner of his mouth a few inches up and pressed her lips against the seam and held herself there for a moment, eyes closed, hoping that maybe it was close enough and it broke her curse.

She pulled away and opened her eyes and blinked a few times as everything came into focus, including the huge green and black dragon in the room.

“Bellamy—“

“I didn’t think it would work. That’s okay, how do I die?”

Clarke licked her lips as tears began to stream from her eyes, she didn’t understand. How did it work for her but not him? How could she see the yellow and red in his golden eyes and the Everest green and onyx black of his scales and wings? And the maroon curtains that hung all around the room, with the candlelight dancing across every surface and she was so overwhelmed and distraught all at once because if it didn’t work for him, why didn’t she see his death?

“Bellamy—“

“That bad, huh?”

“No, I didn’t—“ she shook her head, how could she tell him that he’s her true love but he isn’t his? How does that even make sense?

“Clarke, seriously, you said it hurts when you don’t tell the person.”

“No, Bellamy, I didn’t—I can—I don’t know. I didn’t see it.”

“What do you mean you didn’t see it?”

“I mean I see you right now, your dragon form and every little detail, you have a scar on your upper lip. Flecks of yellow and red in your eyes, I can see it all. It—it worked.”

“Then how am I still a dragon?”

“I—I don’t know, Bellamy. I mean, if you want to try again, when you take the potion, maybe you won’t change back after the allotted time.”

“Or maybe because you kissed me as a dragon I’m stuck as one forever,” he turned to leave, his tail almost hitting Clarke in the face and maybe it’s always happened and it’s always gotten that close to nearly hitting her and she never realized, but she flinched and Bellamy scoffed, smoke filling the stairwell and he disappeared into it.

Clarke cried herself to sleep that night and didn’t get out of bed in the morning until she heard a racket downstairs and practically ran down to see him, stopping short at a girl with stunning blue wings and long black hair.

“Octavia?” she asked, not knowing what to say.

She spun around, “How did you—Oh, my God, your eyes! They’re blue! Wait, how—who? Who’s your true love?”

“Bellamy.”

“That’s why he kept telling me to cover him, he’s still a dragon and you can see.”

Realization and anger hit Octavia like a brick wall and Clarke didn’t know how to handle seeing emotions laid out so bare.

“Octavia, I didn’t—“

“I know it’s not your fault. I’m not blaming you, it just means we don’t know how to break the curse.”

“I was thinking about that, and I even said this to him, there’s a potion that turns him human again. Temporarily. What if we kissed while it was in his system?”

“It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah,” Octavia smirked.

“Would you try to convince him?”

“Do you have this month’s pay?”

“Yeah, why… one dose is a whole month’s pay?”

“You’re the best employment in the realm.”

“So no one can afford this potion?”

“No. Bellamy takes it once a year, I save part of my pay and give it to him on his birthday, I know he loves being human. He hates that he can’t chase after me for twelve hours, but he can read his books easier.”

“Once a year?”

Octavia nodded.

“When did he last take it?”

“Before mum died.”

Clarke sighed, “Go, take however much you need and get him the potion. I’ve been dying to see him for months.”

Four hours and three loaves of burnt bread later the door opened again and Clarke was afraid to look up. She didn’t want Octavia or another suitor or an angry Bellamy, she wanted the Bellamy that she knew, the Bellamy that protected his sister, told the stories of the stars, the Bellamy who didn’t walk on eggshells around her blindness. She wanted the real Bellamy.

She was suddenly yanked up, out of her chair and while a pair of lips crashed against hers, her eyes fluttered white before showing herself lying in bed, grey hair and wrinkles, with a handsome man lying next to her. His death.

Maybe her death.

She pulled away, her eyes flickering white again before she opened them and she saw the most handsome man she’s ever seen. Messy onyx hair, deep brown eyes, freckles speckled his tan skin and that scar on his upper lip.

Her hands trailed down his arms from his biceps and found a rough patch on the inside of his wrist, pulling it out to look at. Green and black scales, she smiled before looking back at Bellamy’s eyes.

“You came back,” she smiled.

He smiled back, “I’m sorry I was so angry. I really wanted to be human for you.”

“I wouldn’t have cared, I would have loved you with or without scales.”

“You saw the real me.” Clarke grimaced and Bellamy laughed, pressing a kiss to her lips again, “I knew you’d hate that.”

“Come home with me.”

“To Arcadia?”

“To Arcadia. Octavia too, she’s going to be the first woman in the army, or maybe just my guard.”

“I told you that a year ago.”

“I remember everything you’ve told me, since I couldn’t see, I chose to listen.”