#//i retook it in light of her recent changes

[fantasycorrupted-a]

pathological liar

values axis quiz

[echo-of-sounds]

who cares if it’s cliche?

-Aizawa x gn!reader-

cute gif

This was a commission for @seraphicghost​! They asked for a fluffy/sweet scenario with the reader confessing in the rain plus a kiss. Thank you so much for the commission! This was super cute to write!

“Here’s your beer, boys!” Nemuri set the bottles down for Hizashi and Aizawa. She scooted in beside you, chirping, “And here’s your Sex in the Driveway.”

“Thanks,” you droned, choosing to ignore her suggestive eyebrow wiggle. She wasn’t one to let anyone live anything down, and now that she noticed, it has only gotten worse.

Hizashi chugged his beer, then slammed it rather loudly. “Alright! Sho, I’ve shown up at work high, I’ve had a one-night stand with Nemuri, and I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“The former.”

“What? How’d you figure that out so quickly?!”

“Hizashi,” both you and Aizawa said, telling him to control his volume. Aizawa finished flatly, “You can’t not talk about everything you do. You’d tell me something like that. Not to mention how useless you are high. The entire school would’ve noticed.”

You hid your smile behind your drink. The faint smirk that lifted Aizawa’s lips fluttered your chest, spinning into your stomach. If only he let himself smile more, experience happiness more, then you could see his handsome smile more. Dark eyes flicked to yours, flustering your heated heart further.

You had to look away and drink some water. You were an adult. He shouldn’t be making you flashback to high school crushes and wistful, young romance.

The game continued for a few more rounds, eventually petering out. Nemuri leaned against you. Alcohol swarmed from her sigh. Pink flushed her cheeks, sticking hair to skin. She mumbled into her glass before finishing it, “I think it’s time to head home.”

“I’ll get a ride.” You clicked on your phone, and it wasn’t long till it beeped: “Car’s here.”

Sooner than you could even move a leg, Hizashi jumped up, swooping an arm around Nemuri’s waist. “I’ll bring her home. You two have fun.”

“Hizashi,” you called after him. He didn’t acknowledge you as he escorted her outside.

They just abandoned you with Aizawa, who was already looking at you when you glanced over. You went to take a drink. The empty glass prevented that. Lemon slices and ice taunted you, laughing that your last barrier between you two was gone. You set the cup down with a sigh.

Shouta nodded at it, “Want another drink?”

“Sure.”

You were once again beaten to your feet; He stood and took the glass. “Same thing?”

“Yeah, another Sex-” Your voice flatlined upon meeting his eyes. Despite the shadow under them, the red in them, and the heavy brow above, their sudden sharpness took your breath, completely unlike their usual dull and dry tone. The change nailed your brain useless.

“More sex?” His lips lifted ever so slightly. When no sound escaped your hanging mouth, he goaded, “More sex then.”

You slumped in the chair, holding your too-fast heart, replaying the bumbling. Saying ‘sex’ while being within two feet of his face, able to discern the bristles of his beard, a crack in his bottom lip, how attractive- Stop. If you couldn’t grow up and say something to him, then don’t bother thinking it.

A blue drink was placed in front of you. It was only your second, yet combined with the tickling in your neck and the bite in your chest, it felt like you were four or five in.

Shouta retook his seat across from you. Whatever you were feeling, anxiety or infatuation, that weighed your heart, lightened with his soft smile. It reached up to a soar when he asked about your most recent patrol.

Thankfully, the conversation from there flowed smoothly. You could keep up with no fumbling and simply enjoy your time with him. And you even got to see a couple more smiles, though they were faint. Every single one made thoughts echo inside: Just ask. It’s not that hard. Just ask! It made it difficult to focus on his words.

Once you finished your drink, your body, while light, lagged tired. You spoke through a yawn, “I’m gonna head out, Sho.”

“Need a cab?”

“No. I actually think I’m going to walk. It’s a pleasant night.” You stood and zipped up your sweatshirt.

He mirrored you and fixed his scarf. It wasn’t his Hero one, just a simple dark gray one, still allowing him ample room to nuzzle into it. Plus, it made him look reasonably fashionable compared to how he typically dressed. He grabbed your wallet from the table, holding it out for you, “I paid for the drink upfront.”

“Shouta, you didn’t need to do that.”

“No big deal,” he shrugged it off.

Yes, it was. If the others were here, you doubted- No. You knew he wouldn’t have done that.

You accepted your wallet and his kindness, muttering on the way out, “Thank you.”

The stroll home started quietly. Gusts blew your hood around. Shouta maneuvered to the outside of the sidewalk, so he was between you and traffic. Your elbows bumped every few steps. Neither of you commented or changed positions, letting it keep happening. If anything, you wanted to step closer to feel the emitting from his body.

Water dripped down the back of your sweatshirt, startling you. The single droplet increased to a steady rain in seconds. You hugged your hood and yourself. He nudged your arm and nodded to a nearby drugstore. It wasn’t much. But it was shelter.

Inside, Shouta slicked his hair back. Pale fingers combed through thick black, unveiling a sharp jaw and lovely scruff; too stunning to always hide under a mess of hair. The wet strands struggled to fit into an elastic. With enough finagling, they finally pulled into place, leaving room for the darkened line on his cheekbone to stick out. Just like his eyes did…

Which were staring at you. Dammit. You turned into an aisle, searching for anything interesting that wasn’t him. All it would take was a handful of sentences then he would know. If he reciprocated, all would be grand; your worry was for naught. However, if he didn’t, the plague of dread that’s accompanied the crush would crash. Never knowing felt like the better option.

You walked the main aisle. There were pool toys, makeup, hygiene, sex toys that you vehemently avoided, fearing Shouta would see the smallest glance towards them. A pair of fleece socks got your attention. The inside was incredibly fluffy and thick. The outside had kitty pawprints designed all over them.

“These are cute,” you smiled and showed them to the approaching Shouta.

He grunted and continued. It didn’t hide the fact you knew he thought them cute as well. Cats were the only things he gave into.

You combed the rest of the rows of items. Not one thing piqued your interest enough to buy. You searched for Shouta, finding him at the checkout, buying a pack of gum and some migraine relief pills. He lifted his brow.

You answered the silent question, “Didn’t see anything special.”

“Not even the cat socks?”

“If I’m still thinking about them in a few days, I’ll come back for them,” you smiled.

After thanking the cashier, your walk home resumed. The rain had stopped, leaving everything glossy and smelling of the earth. It lifted the air between yours and his shoulders.

Thick fingers extended a piece of gum. His eyes remained on the sidewalk when you took it and thanked him. The fresh mint sent a little chill down your back, frosting your mouth as you watched him, thinking, ‘Now was a perfect time. No one’s around. You just need to say it. A few sentences and you’re done.’

The instant your mouth opened, rain poured, loud and heavy. Your hood provided sparse protection.

Shouta grumbled into his scarf, “So much for a nice night.”

“Sorry… But you didn’t have to walk with me, you know? You could’ve called for a ride.”

His eyebrows scrunched with a groan.

“Here’s your turn, anyway. Get home fast,” you called over the pattering, nodding towards the left turnoff. The top of his apartment peaked out over the smaller buildings.

“It’s late. I’ll walk you home,” he grumbled again. His voice carried much less complaint this time and more concern.

Both of you picked up the pace, fast-walking down the sidewalks and hustling across the streets.

Only at your door did you face Shouta, not caring about being soaking wet anymore. He was closer than you expected, nearly bumping into his chest. You looked to his mouth, unable to make it to his eyes, unsure if you wanted to see them this close. You surprised yourself with how steady your voice sounded, “Do you want to come inside? Drink something warm?”

“I’m alright. Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

“I did. Thank you.” Your legs didn’t move. It’d be a whole lot warmer, calmer, dryer inside. “I know Hizashi drags you out to these things, but I still hope you had fun tonight.”

“I did.” His flat face gave you no emotional indicators.

“Good, I’m glad.” You said your goodbyes, yet your feet stayed put. Water soaked through all of your clothing. Goosebumps pricked down your arms. The rain vaguely obscured the handsome features you’ve been ogling at, wishing to call them yours.

He spun and took five steps away before you mustered, “Shouta?”

He faced you, waiting, half scowling, probably, hopefully, due to the rain.

“There’s something I’d like- There’s something I want- I want you to know. It’s okay if you don’t- If you’re not on the same page as me. I just- just…” Just say it. It was only a few words. You sucked in, preparing yourself mentally, emotionally, and physically for the absolute worst outcome, then spoke as confident as you could, “I just think you’re- I wanted to tell you that I’m-” Your heart heated as you finished, “I’m interested in you… more than a friend.”

The downpour built. You could no longer see his face. His mouth mumbled something. Unable to hear, you shuffled close, wiped water from your face, and asked him to repeat himself.

Shouta closed the tiny gap between your chests. You could only look at his mouth. This time though, you wanted to meet his eyes. It was the damn rain preventing that.

A finger lifted your chin. Instinct lowered your eyelids. The rain ceased on your face as lips connected to yours. They pressed unexpectedly sweetly, only to curl into a smirk and pull away.

You matched his smile, struggling to hold in the laugh, “A kiss in the rain, Shouta? Don’t you think it’s kinda cliche?”

“Who cares?” The hold on your chin tightened a bit and guided you back to him. All the anxiety bubbled up, popping and releasing as a giggle. Weight freed from your shoulders. You cupped his cheeks, kissing back with new excitement.

[gwynrielendgame]

Nyx and Isa part 4

I am feeling very uninspired these days yall. Good news though, I got a job 🥳🥳 woohoo.

"You two can go wander through the gardens now, if you'd like. Violet why don't you go with them? Someone needs to keep them out of trouble."

It was as much a dismissal if Nyx ever heard one. He rolled his eyes, but stood to leave anyways.

"I would actually like to listen in. If I am to be high lady some day, best I hear it all."

Nyx's parents shared a look. Whatever they wanted to discuss with Tamlin and the rest of the family was not information they wanted his daughter to know. Must be something about her.

"Very well. Nyx could you check on your sister, Velaris? I haven't heard from her all week."

Nyx was annoyed that he was being dismissed once again to check on his oldest sister, of all people, even though Isa was allowed to stay. She was much less trustworthy than him. He turned to leave with his younger sister in tow, but a snicker from Isa made him send a quick glare in her direction.

"Yes, run along now. Like the good little prince you are."

The sarcasm might as well have bit his skin. The entire room stopped their small talk to re-assess the situation before them. The last anyone had heard, Nyx and Isa had resolved any conflict from the recent fight they had. Although neither of them had spoken since Isa had revealed what she gave to protect Nyx.

"Stop this, Isa. Petty arguments do not become you."

"Oh look at prince Nyx. Once again taking the moral high ground. Shocker considering who your parents are."

"Did we...miss something?" Lucien interjected, clearly to lighten the mood which had zero effect on the arguing pair. They continued their banter as if Lucien never even spoke.

"You want to talk to me about my parents? What about yours? Your father abused my mother, only to impregnate, who I can only assume by your own standards, is a vile, evil witch."

She sucked in a harsh breathe. She told that to him in confidence and now he was throwing it back in her face. His anger fueled harder than his guilt. Nyx had walked back to the table at this point where he stood, glaring at his friend.

"Once again you stand on some moral high ground. The world is not black and white, Nyx. Your mother would like to convince you otherwise though, no? Must be her savior complex."

Her accent was much heavier with how vehemently she was talking. Feyre decided it was best to intervene.

"Okay, why don't you two separate and cool off. Obviously, emotions are running high."

Once again, the pair ignored anyone else speaking to them.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Isa. I am not the one that sold off my unborn first child, so of course, you do not have many moral qualms." Nyx threw back at her. She rolled her nose up in disgust.

"Would you have rather I let you die?"

"I am glad I am not dead, but what you were willing to give up for me is not something I would be willing to do for you." He crossed his arms. She scoffed.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before you had sex with me!" She threw a roll from her plate at him. He let it bounce off his head with a roll of his eyes.

"Oof" Violet muttered while glancing anywhere but at the pair sparring off at the dinner table.

"Do not act as if I tricked you into that! I have been crystal clear about us. I am waiting for my mate, which you are not."

"Nyx," his mother tried to interject once again, but Isa stopped her.

"How do you know that? How do you know I am not your mate? The bond is hard to sense before it has snapped into place." Everyone recognized the desperation in her voice. She was pleading with him to love her in the way that she loved him. Unfortunately, it was also clear to everyone that Nyx was rather indifferent towards Isa as a romantic partner.

"Come on Isa! Be realistic. Our parents did not work out for a reason." He tried to reason. He thought they had just been having a bit of fun. Must have meant much more to Isa than she had been admitting to him.

"Perhaps you do share too much with your mother. Your self-righteousness is certainly straight from her handbook." She lashed out. Nyx recognized her feelings were hurt and that was the reason she was saying the nasty things she was. That did not mean it kept him from getting just as angry.

"Well, I am not the only one who takes after my parents. You are exactly like your father." He spit at her.

Nyx was tired of listening to her discuss his parents in such a way. She wanted to play rough? Well then he would play along.

"What is that meant to mean?"

"You are an entitled bitch who does not seem to understand when someone does not love you back. That's what I mean."

She flinched at his harsh words and he automatically wished he could take them back. She retook her seat, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. They both remembered what she accidentally admitted to him and the words he had not said back. He was breathing heavy from his own vehement yelling, but now as he looked around, he felt regret. It felt wrong to air out their grievances among family and friends, especially when he threw so much back in her face.

"Yikes..." Violet unhelpfully broke the awkward silence that had engulfed the room. Nyx noticed at the same time as everyone else that the table was shaking. It started to shake so much that he thought an earthquake was hitting Velaris. It was not until Tamlin spoke up that everyone realized who, instead of what, was making the table shake.

"Calm down, Isa."

She took a slow shakey breath. One lone tear fell down her cheek which she roughly wiped away. Nyx wanted to wrap her in a hug and apologize, but he stuck in his spot as her tattoos began to glow. They often glowed when she was using her witch magic, but never like this. This was bright, almost blinding when her normal glow was a light luminance.

"I am trying." She spoke softly. "I just want it to stop." Her hands went to her head and started clawing at her temples.

Nyx was not sure what she wanted to stop, but one glance around the room told him that this meant trouble. He wanted to help his friend, but no one moved a muscle and his father sent him a look that kept Nyx from speaking. Tamlin's reaction was even worse. He looked scared. Whether that was for his own life or because his daughter was in danger, Nyx would never know.

"Isabelle, stop."

"I can't." The word broke off at the end as she finally opened her eyes. They were glistening with tears and her expression would haunt Nyx until his last days. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Tamlin propelled forward, over the table. He wrapped Violet in an embrace as they fell to the floor.

And then a gust of power broke every piece of glass in the room. Every window, wine glass, and vase shattered. The power from Azriel's siphons reached out at the last minute and protected Nyx and Lucien from the blast of power. Nyx was still thrown into the wall from the sheer force of it. He managed to look over at his parents to see his dad protecting his mom. Tamlin must have known what was going to happen before it did because he reached Violet a second before it happened.

"Knock her out!" Tamlin yelled. "Before her eyes change."

Nyx looked up to see that Isa was still crying, but a swirl of power encircled her. She had sunk to her knees on the floor at this point and she still gripped her head as if it hurt. The power was unlike anything he had ever seen, so he assumed it must be her witch power. He knew he should get up and talk to her, but he did not want to make it worse. He watched as Lucien attempted to physically get to her, but the gust knocked him away. Both his parents tried using their daemati powers. Nyx was afraid of what would happen if that did not work. Tamlin shoved Violet behind a couch before approaching his daughter.

"Isa, you can control it. You have done it before. Focus."

She began shaking her head wildly.

"Get out of my head!" She screeched.

"I can't get in Tamlin. Whatever is happening is too powerful." Nyx wondered who was inside Isa's head if not his parents.

"Use your Night power to knock her out." Tamlin gritted his teeth as he slowly inched his way toward her. It was a physical feat unlike any other because the wind was powerful enough to keep Nyx on the ground.

"I can't. She's disarmed our fae magic."

Nyx tried to conjure his own magic, only to realize his dad was right. He did not think it was possible without the use of faebane. Isa had mentioned being able to temporarily disable fae magic, but she claimed the cost was too high for witches to use it often. He was worried she would end up killing herself before the night was over.

"Isa!" He started. As soon as he spoke, the power surrounding her intensified. "I am sorry. I did not mean it." He took a few tentative steps towards her even after his dad called out a warning. It was difficult due to the wind, but he managed to get close enough that his shouts were heard by her.

"I was lashing out because you hurt my feelings." The power started to ebb as she raised her head from her hands. "You are my friend and I did not mean to hurt you."

She looked at him for a second, her guard dropped, and when she blinked, her eyes opened again, completely black as the finest spun silk in all of the night court.

Fuck is all he could think.

Tamlin used the split second she was distracted by Nyx to make his move. She was in his grasp and being winnowed away before anything else could be said.

"Shit." His mother muttered from her spot on the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Azriel looked to Lucien for answers as he stood from the ground. It appeared everyone had been knocked to the ground from the force of her magic. Lucien wiped away blood from his forehead that kept pouring into his one good eye.

"How many witch, high lord children have you heard of?"

"None." Azriel grimaced. If he had not heard of it before, then it was likely few and far between that held that same heritage.

"Emotion is a highly sought after price by the spirits. Not many witches are willing to trade their emotions for the aid of the spirits. They feed on it which is why the children are so dangerous. They are one tantrum from killing their entire coven. Why do you think their numbers dwindle?"

"She's had how many years to get this under control?" Rhysand quipped back sarcastically only to get a withering look from Lucien.

"No amount of time prepares you for your first heart break. Especially when the cause of that embarrasses you in front of another court by declaring he does not love you back." Lucien gave a pointed look to Nyx with narrowed eyes.

"Not my finest moment." Nyx cringed as he thought back to all he said. Nyx walked back to Violet to help her up from behind the couch.

"The spirits feed on her emotions. She let her guard down, but they cannot take without giving. They gave her too much power to control with her emotions as tumultuous as they were. The more negative the emotion? The more all-consuming and dangerous that power becomes." Lucien explained. Although it hardly made any sense to Nyx.

"How can they feed if she does not call on them? Why do they not feed on our emotions?" Violet asked as she wiped dirt from her dress.

"The tattoos, a price she has paid for a past use of witch magic, acts as a tracking device. Much like you build mind barriers to keep other Daemati out, Isa needs to keep her barriers in place to prevent the spirits from taking freely. The tattoos call to spirits when they glow and the loss of her mind barrier allowed them in without her permission. As for the reason they do not feed on our emotions? Unsure. Isa jokes that regular fae emotions must taste bad." Lucien finally grabbed a napkin to press to the wound above his eye. He muttered an apology to Feyre for ruining it.

"Why did she not kick them out once she realized?" Feyre asked instead of responding to his apology.

"She probably did not realize she was giving her emotions freely to the spirits. They rewarded her with power. Mix in some fae magic, shape shifting abilities, and boom you have an uncontrollable dangerous cocktail in the form of a small female."

"The eyes?" Azriel quietly mentioned with raised brows. His shadows were moving erratically all around him.

"That is not up for discussion along with her mother." Lucien sent Nyx a glare.

"I know it was a low blow." He admitted. He would apology as soon as he was allowed.

"Isa loves her mother very much. You can love a person and despise their actions. Right Feyre?" It was an accusing statement. Everyone could see what Lucien was insinuating. His mother at some point or another loved Tamlin even if she pretended she never had. Feyre only rolled her eyes, but Rhysand sent a glare of his own back to Lucien.

"I should apologize. I do love her." Nyx felt the need to admit to everyone. "Just not in the way that she wants." He threw himself down on the couch. Violet followed his lead and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Not now. The reason witches do not readily offer their emotions is because it leaves them numb. It is a very unpleasant feeling and will be like talking to a wall." Lucien grimaced. Nyx assumed Lucien was thinking of the last time it happened.

"Has this happened before?" Azriel inquired.

"When her mother died. That's it." Lucien shrugged and dropped the napkin.

"I didn't know. I never meant to hurt her." Nyx felt the need to explain himself, but found there were no words to do so.

"If I know Isa, all she wanted to hear was that you care for her in some capacity."

"She knows that." Nyx insisted. He rested his head on top of his sisters. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion unlike any other.

"Does she? Cause you had me fooled otherwise tonight." Lucien quickly winnowed away after that. A look around the room showed disapproving looks from everyone.

*****

"Thank you for coming." Tamlin shifted awkwardly in his chair. The Night Court inner circle looked on from their respective chairs in what Nyx assumed must be the formal sitting room. His parents, himself, and his sister squished together on one couch. Azriel took an arm chair to the left of Tamlin and the last chair remained unclaimed. Nyx stared at the chair as if he could make her appear simply from his stare.

"How is she?" Rhysand cleared his throat to ask. Tamlin gave a tight smile.

"Fine." He paused, debating whether he should say the next thing. "We lifted the ward on this room. If things should get out of hand today, you may winnow away."

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him.

"I thought you said she had it under control."

Tamlin sighed heavily and slouched in his chair. He rubbed at his temples as if this entire meeting exhausted him.

"You will see that you are in no danger. It is just a precaution."

Azriel went to say something, but stopped and looked towards the door. It was utterly silent. A few minutes later, Isa walked through the door with her head down. She looked...bad. In the kindest way possible because Nyx knew she had been through a lot mentally. It had clearly taken a toll on her physically. She shuffled to the last available seat without making eye contact. When she finally looked up, Nyx's heart lurched. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks had sunken in from weight loss, leaving her looking like she consisted only of skin and bone. It was jarring considering how solidly built she had been previously. She had always been muscular; now though, he saw no hint of it. Her dress must have been fitted to her recently since it fit her well. It was a light green color similar to her eyes and flowed around her like a wedding dress. She might look beautiful if she did not look so sick. Nyx made eye contact with his sister's wide, shocked eyes. A quiet gasp left his mother's lips. Isa tried a small smile, but Nyx noticed her fingers nervously traced the new tattoos on her other hand.

"I apologize for my little display last week." She started. "I thought I had a better grip on my powers. Obviously not. I have spoken with my coven on the matter and I will be returning home for additional training."

Nyx contemplated whether he should speak or not. Last time they only exchanged spiteful words. He did not want those words to be the last she heard from him. He cleared his throat.

"Does your coven know about the first born debacle?" He felt it was a neutral enough of a statement. Isa replied simply.

"No."

"It is best if that is never discussed aloud." Tamlin interjected.

"How long will you be gone?" Violet asked. They had become friends as well and his sister looked sad at the prospect of her leaving.

"Until I need to claim my position as High Lady." Isa stared at her hands as she spoke. Violet gasped at the information.

"But that could be hundreds of years!"

Nyx frowned. He thought it might take Isa a few months to lose interest in himself and then they could return to just being friends. This seemed extreme, but perhaps they could still visit each other every once in a while. Isa only shrugged. Nyx felt dread at Isa's lack of emotional display. She had been rather devoid of anything else. The effects of the spirits must be taking more of a toll than anyone else assumed.

"That will leave you unprepared for your role as high lady. You do not have many allies or friends," Azriel started what appeared to be an oddly placed reprimand. "You should use all the time you have to form relationships with the other courts and possible emissaries."

"Lucien said he would help me when I first take over."

"That is not enough." Rhysand agreed as him and Tamlin shared a look.

"You will help me, no?" She asked.

"We may not have the time to devote to helping you run your court." Feyre said. Isa's eyes slid past Nyx's and landed on Violet's.

"I could help." His sister offered with a smile that looked so similar to their mother's.

"It would be very much appreciated." Isa tried to give a smile of her own but it only succeeded in showing how miserable this past week has been for her.

"You may want to consider marriage." Azriel felt the need to mention. "You will be at a disadvantage when you return, but a well aligned marriage could work. The prince of the Summer Court is unmarried, but you may find yourself at war with Amren over him. There is a princess of the Summer court that may be interested." His shadows tucked in tight to him.

"I shall consider that. Thank you for the advice, spymaster." No hint of her accent could be heard. Nyx realized she was focusing on disguising the accent in order to focus her attention. Her eyes kept wandering around the room as though she could not keep focus on the current conversation.

Tamlin appeared to nudge Isa subtly. He gave her a stern look before she turned back to look at Feyre.

"I apologize for the things I said about you." She said barely above a whisper. Feyre gave her a soft look which must have urged her to keep going. "Sometimes I feel angry at you because I see a life I could have had. With you as my mom. It is not fair, but it is true." Nyx could see tears in his mother's eyes that she quickly blinked away.

"I understand that sometimes we say things we do not mean. Right, Nyx?" Feyre gave her son a look. She was giving him an opening to say his piece while simultaneously avoiding responding to Isa. He should tell Isa that he did not mean it.

"Isa, I do love you. Just not in the way you are wanting." He tried to make eye contact with her so that she knew he was speaking the truth, but she did not look up from her hands.

"Okay." She gave a simple shrug.

Nyx felt his eyes brows furrowed at that. He was not sure what he expected her reaction to be, but something more than that. It made him feel something he was not ready to admit. And at this point, would never admit.

"Okay?" He asked with raised eyebrows. Isa was still refusing to look up at him, so he look towards his father who kept signaling with his eyes to go and comfort her.

"Yes, I understand I cannot make someone love me." The bland delivery of the words encouraged Nyx to move towards her. He kneeled before her in her chair and grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I do love you." He emphasized. He did not want this to get lost in the mess of everything else. Something about that seemed to spark something in her eyes though. The sight of it made Nyx relieved.

"Not in the vay I vant to be loved. Not in the vay I dezerve to be loved." Her accent was extremely heavy and she began to grip his hands back just as strongly as he was holding hers. Tears gathered in her eyes but they did not fall.

"I vill no longer give you more than you dezerve, Nyx." And with that declaration, the last of her fight left her. She softly pulled her hands away and stood up. Her eyes were blank once more.

"I apologize once again for putting your lives at risk. It will not happen again."

And then she was drooping back to her room with slows steps.

"That went...well." Violet offered unhelpfully. "Right?"

[ccparaiso]

you won’t believe who i just saw walking down main street! BRUNA MARQUEZINE! what do you mean that’s just CECILIA PARAÍSO DIAS? who is she? a 23-year-old PHARMACY EMPLOYEE…interesting. and the CIS WOMAN is FUN-LOVING & CHARISMATIC, but i should watch out for when they are PROUD & SELFISH? will do. 

hi everyone!! lyra here again with my second muse! cecilia is.......... difficult so i think it should be fun to bring up the drama! a few friends, enemies!!!!, a few enemies to friends plots would be loved too! also she’s bi and she doesn’t know so uncomfortable-around-you-cuz-i’m-attracted-to-you are on the table. just like this and i’ll hit u up on discord!

the story the light and pride of her parents’ lives: cecilia was born wanting for nothing. she was born in new york, the only child and first american child of a brazilian couple. when they met, her mother was an artist whose father was rich and influential and her father was an up-and-coming entrepreneur, needing just a little push for his logistics company to take off. and of course – he got that push when he swept cecilia’s mother off her feet. they got married as business grew and soon enough they made plans to move to the united states, where cecilia’s father could overlook his company in the new york and new jersey port.  

cecilia was treated like a princess. she was able to go to the best schools and take any classes she wanted. not that she stuck with any of them for a long time. she didn’t have to make an effort, after all, nobody was really there to see talent. no- they only cared about beauty and money, so why should she care about anything else?

the only thing she was really passionate was taking pictures. since a child, she would like to get a hold of a camera and spend hours taking pictures. at school, at her trips – anywhere, she would always have a camera. cecilia was able to do a few courses on the subject, but of course, it was never supposed to be a profession. art is a hobby, not a real job, that’s what her father would always tell her. she was supposed to go to the university and study law, to become an attorney.

when she was about fourteen things became really weird. cecilia started noticing that his parents were arguing more often and eventually, they started sleeping in different bedrooms. his father started to take her out for dinner by herself, saying that her mom chose to stay at home. it was also him alone who broke the news that they’d be divorcing and it absolutely crushed cecilia. above everything else, she felt like her mother was betraying her, choosing to abandon her for some small, boring town. she just couldn’t understand why her mother would choose to destroy their family. and from what her father told her, he couldn’t believe it either.

during the whole process, she sided with her father. fueled by him, her grudge against her mother only grew. she didn’t want to see her but she still visited from time to time – the biggest time away with her mother was after her senior year due to the pressure her father was putting on her. she wanted to travel, to take a break from school and maybe invest in photography. cecilia couldn’t run away for too long, though. soon enough, her father had bribed her way into a university in the second semester and she had no choice but to go.  

she truly, really, honestly hated studying law. it just wasn’t interesting to her and her grades were just good enough so she wouldn’t fail her classes. cecilia never had to try too hard for anything so she just- didn’t. she was able to pull this off during the first three years but as she entered her fourth year and the courses became harder, things changed. she not only did badly, but she managed to fail every single class she applied to. she retook them the next semester, however, since she didn’t try at all and her professors already saw her as a lazy, difficult person, she failed them all again.  

that didn’t sit well with her father. in fact, not with her father nor with her step mother. their family was to be perfect. they were part of an elite. cecilia just couldn’t do that with the dias name. it was then that her father decided that she wasn’t good enough to be part of the family anymore. she was taken off the university and basically dumped back to her mother and to the small city she so hated. her father refused to give her any allowance and cecilia was left to live with her mother and find a way to pay her study loans. she’s sold most of her clothes to make money and even had to sell her beloved camera. recently, she’s got a job at the pharmacy as the cashier and she’s still trying to adapt to her new reality that differs a lot from the lifestyle she was used to.

the extras - she feels very betrayed by her father. cecilia truly didn’t believe him to be like this, but after living with her mom, she started to understand how horrible of a person her father is. - because of that, she doesn’t use his last name anymore. to anyone who asks, she’s just cecilia paraíso. - her birthday is on april 10th. - she’s really embarrassed about failing a whole year at university so nobody besides her mother know about it. she even changed all of her social medias after it happened and she was sent to cape hazel. - to a few friends of university, she’s in cambodia doing volunteer work. - she’s easily discouraged. - it’s a bitch for her to trust anyone but she’s fiercely protective of those that she becomes close to.

[leah-rainweaver]

Messages

Leah lay alone in the house that she and Nel had laid claim to, eyes closed, slowly drifting off to sleep as she listened to the most recent message she’d received from Glauric for the fourth time over. Her human roommate had seemed in a sour mood that evening and had left, scowl on her face and sword in hand; Leah suspected one of the large spiders that inhabited the island was about to meet it’s end. Leah also suspected that Nel’s demeanor had something to do with the presence of a very young boy that always seemed to be nearby when Leah had reached out to glean information from the spirits here.

There wasn’t much for Leah to report to Glauric this time, but she rolled over and found an unused gem chip all the same and put it on her pillow as she lay on her side, bidding sleep to stay at bay for just a few minutes longer. She began to channel her magic to record her message, and then yawned, hmming quietly as it tapered off. “In future messages, don’ cut yehrself off if yeh feel like yeh’re ramblin’. I want t’ hear it, helps me forget, if only for a bit, that I’m a really long way away. Actually, in yehr next message, just ramble for a bit on what yeh’ve been up t’. Even if it’s borin’. I could use a change o’ pace and somethin’ t’ take my mind off the C’thrax.”

“We managed t’ free the lord o’ the island rather than kill him. He’d been under a spell from some.. I think they’re called K’thir? I dunnae, think that’s right. Apparently those started showin’ up after the creature came real close t’ the island. Anyways, they’d taken over much o’ the lord’s guard, but under illusions and were makin’ him behave oddly; freed his wife from the prison o’ his keep. But he’s lettin’ us use his keep as a sort o’ base, which is nice, I s’ppose. Have actual walls t’ guard us now… nae like they’ll do much when the C’thrax comes back though.”

She trailed off, stifling another yawn. For a long minute, she was quiet, just breathing, resting her eyes, and then she remembered that she wasn’t done talking yet, and took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more. “I’ve been tryin’ t’ track where the creature has been, nae where it is at the moment. Everyone seems t’ think it’s lookin’ for somethin’. Thought perhaps if I could sense where it’s been, I could try and piece t’gether a pattern for what it’s doin’. Up till the night when we retook the keep, it had just been restin’ out in the deeps o’ the bay.” She pauses, “It seems t’ have turned back this way again though, movin’ faster.” She paused again. “Cannae remember who found it first, but there’s some Kirin Tor stronghold here, with wards around it. A group o’ K’thir headed that way after we drove ‘em from the keep. I.. I’ve been reachin’ out t’ the spirits on the island as well. The dead sometimes are more willin’ t’ give up information than the livin’. Seems the Legion struck hard here, as they did everywhere. And they made me feel like the Kirin Tor is who came and cleaned the Legion away from the island. Makes me wonder why they stayed behind and put up a bunch o’ wards. I suspect we’ll find out soon. The group’s set on goin’ after the K’thir t’ stop ‘em from getting through the wards the mages have set up.”

Leah remained quiet for a short time again, sleep edging closer, and it was evident in her voice just how tired she was. “Tell me about this place yeh’re thinkin’ o’ for the date when I get back. We goin’ t’ be playin’ darts again or just dinner and conversation?” She yawned again, “I’ll talk t’ yeh again soon, I’m goin’ t’ sleep now, though. Be well.”

She wrapped her hand around the gem, pressing a brief kiss to it before forcing herself to stand. With her blanket around her shoulders, she walked to the door, opening it so she could go outside and send the gem off through the ground to Glauric. But she stopped short, surprised to see Nel just standing there outside the door, gaze turned towards the bay. “Nel? Everythin’ alright?” Leah side-stepped, getting to an open patch of dirt before squatting and pressing the gem to the earth and letting it burrow away.

Nel was looking at her when she turned back to the woman, and her eyes were red, face blotchy. “Nel?” Leah put a hand on the woman’s arm, concerned. “Are yeh hurt?”

The human shook her head, swallowing before answering with a voice laden with emotion, “No, I’m not injured. I’m sorry, I did not intend for anyone to see me like this, I’m just..” She pressed a hand to her face, choking a sob off before it could escape her lips. Nel took a deep, steadying breath, “Today would have been my youngest’s third birthday. I find myself... “ She pressed her lips together and shook her head, giving a pitiful shrug.

It was incredibly strange for Leah to see Nel this way; the woman always had such a hard exterior and didn’t often speak of personal matters. Leah shifted and attempted to draw Nel inside so they could speak more, but the woman shrugged off her grasp, “No.” She said firmly, borderline harsh in her tone, “No I have to watch the water tonight. Because that’s where I lost him. I let him go. I have to watch for him.” Silent tears trailed down Nel’s cheeks as she spoke.

Leah shook her head gently, grimacing a little, “Oh Nel… torturin’ yehrself is nae goin’ t’ help anyone, least of all yehr boy.”

Nel turned her gaze to Leah, sharp and angry, “Kindly refrain from telling me what will help and what won’t. You have -no- idea what I have been through.”

Surprised, Leah pulled her hand away from Nel’s arm, instead, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulder and heating the air around herself a little. “Well.. I can tell yeh right now, yehr boy wouldnae want yeh t’ hurt. He’s been followin’ yeh around all week.” Nel’s gaze turned to Leah again, expression shocked and angry, to which Leah responded with a shrug. “I’ve been communin’ with the spirits on the island for a few days tryin’ t’ learn stuff. Anytime yeh’re near when I do, there’s a wee boy around.” For a moment, Leah regretted telling the woman, but she’d done so hoping that it would bring her some comfort.

Nel slowly sank to her knees, a hand lifted to her mouth. She looked at Leah again, expression slowly softening, “Max is here?” She shook her head, “But.. he should be with the Light, with his sisters and father.”

Leah shrugged, “Och.. I, uh.. I dunnae about shite t’ do with the Light. I just know spirits o’ those who have passed on before us are never very far away. S’ppose it’s all connected somehow. But, uh… well, I don’ think that yehr boy wanted yeh t’ be alone this week. Must’ve known yeh’d be sad.”

Nel’s gaze drilled into Leah’s as tears continued to fall. She opened her mouth to speak again, but her voice cracked and she broke down, sobbing. This time when Leah tried to guide her inside gently, Nel let her. 

And… Max seemed to follow as well, Leah felt. Perhaps there was some comfort to be found tonight, after all.

[royaltides]

You wanted war  chapter 2

Juvia didn't conjecture this will occur to her, not after all she'd gone through in those several yore weeks, at last Juvia gain a place she belongs to, she did not explicitly planned to reach there, but Juvia didn't complain of how things turn out to be. After the exhausting journeys, lurking in the shadows of abandons building, and even after all that sometimes she and Gajeel were almost identified. Juvia couldn't control it, she fell in love with the first man she saw. Gray Fullbuster was a partisan in a group called Fairy Tail, and he was all she could dream and want in a man. He was thin but muscular with precise lines that defined the toughness of his abs, he was without a shirt even in the harsh winter of this northern forest.-30 degrees Celsius, maybe less. Gray was taller than she was, with piercing black eyes, sexy rebellious and shiny black hair. Even his personality suited him. He was like ice at first until he saved her. When they fought, he defeated her. With great difficulty, Juvia remarked after the battle. He confronted her as if she were equal to him as if he were seeing a man in the shape of a woman. He treated her like no other man had ever treated her. He saw her as someone without a difference because of her gender, Just the despise for someone in the uniform with that badge the whole world despised now. Blinded by the hatred, he didn't realize that she wasn't his enemy at first.

flashback

They were standing on the roof of a half-destroyed building. Juvia tried to explain to him, to talk to him, but all he saw was the uniform. The uniform of the Nazi's, the uniforms of those who almost killed him, but killed his community, his parents, those who seek to destroy all his people, those who torment the whole world with war and endless death. Juvia understood his heart or at least tried. The nuns always told her that "the key to a person's heart is the secret of his understanding." How could she understand the pain of destroying an entire minority nation, a community whose roots had been obliterated and buried in the depths of the earth? How could she know how it was to lose parents when she had never had parents?

In the course of the battle, however, the shots stopped because to the both of them the bullets had run out. Only the two of them remained with jagged daggers and knives hidden under layers of clothing. All of this happened in an ongoing struggle of willpower. She tried to stop him but not kill him though Gray wanted her dead. There on the ground, he wanted her blood on his hands. Gray managed to slide under her protections arms a fast fist into her upper abdomen, the air came out of her lungs, and Juvia fell to the floor in a massive noise. She tried to raise, one hand on the cracked asphalt floor and the other hand trying to attach what must have broken inside her. In a split of a second, he was already there holding her hands in his left hand. Gray grounded her legs to the soil with his own legs, and his other hand went up. She realized that he wanted to beat her to death, punch after punch because of who she had been until a few weeks ago, although Juvia had changed because of his people, because of what was in the document, because of her values, but mainly because of people like him who didn't deserve this horror.

In a moment of panic, Juvia looked him in the eye. They were dark black, gleaming in the bright sunlight through the fleecy clouds of snow. It was the emotion behind them that broke her. The ex-soldier could see his soul, crushed under the mask of cold and stiffness. She could see, even almost touching his pain. He was scarred by the experiences life had forced him through. The Man deal with all it but not without wounds that would accompany him for life. Before his hand hit her, she began to cry. Not because her pain, or because Juvia was probably going to die (even though the woman was sure she was going to die) but because of what he had absorbed, what this pointless war had cost him, what her people's greed and injustice had done to him. "I'm sorry," Juvia whispered, "I'm so sorry," she muttered again and again as tears came down from her eyes and deep wails of pain from the physical pain were out of control. Her lips trembled, but she kept saying those words. As if she were asking forgiveness for everyone who died, for everyone who was imprisoned and for everyone who survived and was irreversibly injured like the person before her.

Gray got off of her and grabbed his head. He was on his knees, and in this state, he looked like a child trying to stop the tears from falling down. "Do not say that!" He snapped at her sharply, "You have no right to ask me for forgiveness, not after ... not after all your people have done to me!" Juvia took the opportunity to get up and placed her head to the floor. "You're right," she rustled quietly to the ground, hoping he would hear her. "I have no right to ask for forgiveness, but it will not stop me from disapproving what my people had you go through and what you have lost because of it." Juvia hoped it would be enough, but the guy seemed to want more information because he asked, this time his voice was a little more composed. "You talk as if you didn't have a part in it, what do you mean?" Juvia gulped hard and tried to describe briefly but as detailed as possible what her part in the war was and why she is here precisely now. "My job was to gather information, I was a spy, and as you can understand, I was a good mole because I ran into an envelope that was listed on Germany's plans for the Jewish problem." Juvia heard his teeth creak and continued. She understood him because she was angry too. "I was disgusted and hated my own country and the people of mine, I ran away or deserted if that what you wanted to call it. I took vital information with me. I and someone else tried to cross the border to get to the opposing army, but the Nazi army sent pictures of us to all the stations as wanted. This is why we needed to enter the forest and try to cross the border. You caught us unprepared and now we are on the roof of a half-destroyed building because of it."

If it were every other day, Juvia would laugh from the irony that she deserted from the Nazi army only to be killed by a Jew or the building could collapse at any moment and kill them both. If the guy wanted to ask something else, he didn't have time because the building did collapse. Juvia heard Gajeel shouting in her name, and a firm arm lifted her on his shoulder suddenly. In seconds she was on a pile of snow, and the Jewish boy was panting. "Thank you," she told him, but the boy disregarded her. "We'll go to the master so you will present him your information," he stated, remarking that it was as self-evident. Juvia felt his hands doing something over her and blushed. Dirty thoughts invaded her mind. When he got up and told her to follow Juvia finally understood what he had done. This guy tied her hands with a thread. She realized Gray was taking her as a prisoner.

It was not long before they reached HQ or rather a forest's clearing where there were several tents and fire in the center next to it, some women laughing and talking among themselves. A large pot hung over the bubbling fire, and a blond girl with ample breast who had been seen through a thick winter coat stirred in slow turns inside the iron ladle. A girl with gray-white hair like snow on the ground nodded encouragingly. From one of the tents came a tiny girl who looked no older than 13 years old with light blue hair and simple warm clothes. There were large papers in her hands that looked like maps. Even from a distance, Juvia could see the bruises that had turned blue on her cheeks and neck. A few people gathered together around a large figure and kicked it cheerfully. Juvia saw black hair and silver sparkle in the cold sun. All her senses awaked at once even her own injuries didn't matter anymore. The thread was no longer an issue, Juvia's captor was startled as she moved without notice or sign, Juvia launched herself speedily and accurately into the area of the men. Juvia advanced inside while she was stepping on someone. She half-stood half sat there with her hands tied and a rigid expression written all over her face. She was mama-bear protecting her cub.

"If you dare lay a hand on one of his hairs, I swear to you that you will meet a ground before you can say Nazis stinks." Juvia threatened through her teeth, and her eyes shone with determination. Most of the boys stumbled back except for a pink-haired fellow with a strange scarf and an idiotic smile on his face. "Oh? I'm looking forward to it" He grinned at her mockingly. He seemed to be about to progress towards her and Juvia was ready to rip him off with her bare teeth, but before the situation proceeded into a physical fight, her captor stood beside her. How did he get here without her notice? Juvia cursed her ability at surroundings awareness. He said something to the guy with the absurd pink hair. The guy with the absurd pink hair moved, and Gray retook her thread and began to drag her toward one of the tents, but instead of coming silently with him like before, Juvia remained rooted to her place, glancing at anyone who dared to look at Gajeel wrongly. She heard an exaggerated sigh and then a voice she'd learned to recognize recently announced. "If anyone who touches that guy he will have to deal with the master." Silence had passed through the camp. Juvia gave her captor a grateful glance that he disregarded it again and tugged her toward the tent where the short girl had exited from.

They went into the master's tent. Guns and maps lay everywhere. Books were stacked beside one of the chairs. Papers rested on a shaky desk, and a miniature man of about 60 years old looked at them with furrowing appearance. "Master," Gray declared their presence."I brought a prisoner. This soldier says she has valuable information." You could hear his disbelief dripping from his voice, and the venom of his voice blended with Juvia's blood as if he were trying to kill her slowly with words instead of his hands. Juvia favored his fists than whose venom-like deadly words. The Master looked at her. She felt a shiver run through her. The presence and the aura surrounding him were unbridled, beyond creation. This old, wrinkled man can overcome Hitler by sheer force of mind. Juvia saw it in his core. What he saw in her eyes made him drop his defense and send her captor, now named Gray out of the tent.

Without objection and only with a scowl on his face Gray went out, Juvia remained helplessly tied in the office of a master of a specific armed force. "Child," he said in a powerful but a tender voice. "Introduce yourself." "Juvia lockser, a former individual spy from SS, the rain woman from deep depths." The spy saw him shot his eyebrows up twice at the sound of her nickname and the word former. "Why the former?" He asked fascinated. Great, Juvia thought. She had to win his trust. "My co-worker and I deserted the Nazi army a few weeks ago because some information that happened to fall into my laps." She thought of the gas chambers and stoves the size of human bodies. Jews forced to carry the bodies of their loved ones, their people, children and old people while suffering from malnutrition conditions and taken any self-identity away from them. Perhaps the Master, as Gray called him, saw the disgust in her features, nodded at her, and ordered her to continue with a small hand gesture. "In the last few weeks we have tried to reach the opposing troops, but without success. Our identity pictures were sent to all the bases, and in less than a week we were known throughout the war and checkpoints. There was No Nazi soldier would not recognize us. Despairingly we tried to enter this unoccupied forest with the intention of trying to contact the other side of the border and provide necessary information to the Allies. On the way they encountered your men and they ambushed us and defeated us but also saved our lives from the building collapse at the border of the forest." He looked at her thoughtfully.

"After you've seen our camp location, I can't let you continue on your journey." the knowledge hit her Juvia, her journey will end here, but that doesn't mean her war effort will stop. If Juvia will play her cards right, but she had to demonstrate her ability accurately. Juvia perceived that in order to win his favors she would have to share all her deepest secrets and draw calculated conclusions that years of training had given her. Juvia realized it was a traveling camp; the tents were wrinkled with folds. They didn't have an ample supply of trees and didn't dig holes in the ground. In the best case, they will stay here for a week, and in the worst case at night they will move elsewhere. "The army will not catch you even if I will tell them your location. You'll be someplace else by then". She said calmly. It must have been a test she had passed because he slowly applauded her. The Master foresaw it coming. "Wonderful information gathering. Do you've learned Something else about us at this time?" the Mater urged. "You are a small fighting force without any support, without knowledge about your existing concerning both sides of the war. You are about 50 people, at least a quarter of whom are women, and it is clear that most of your fighters don't have military training. Your data about the course of the war is lacking. You, the master, carefully choose your battles." Except for Gray, she thought, from her experience with him she knew he had military training."You were a police captain before the war. The Ladies here have no training or survival knowledge, and I almost convinced that the blonde girl is from a luxurious family and I guess that she is German but not Nazi. You don't have much ammunition, and your defenses are meager, but determined warriors are compensating for this." She finished. The Master stared at her in amazement. "you are well trained." the tiny man stated in awe. Juvia nodded and held herself a little straighter. Pleased that she is beginning to prove herself to him. "One last thing," he said. "What information did you desired to bring to the Allies?" "I have a map of all the defects in the Nazi's borders." Juvia felt the map in her pocket. She glanced at the side of her left trouser leg. The Master's eyes gleamed. "Most vital information. I believe I didn't introduce myself properly, Makarov Dreyer." Juvia's eyes widened at the name. The Polish legend. The captain of the police department in Warsaw before the occupation. The only one who had managed to escape but not before he killed about twenty Nazi soldiers on his way out. "As you assumed, we are a group of warriors who are fighting without consent for the Allies and attacking the German army when it is not prepared. Call our group, the truth that we are more than a family than the militant group. We are Fairy Tail." "Would you like to join us?" He asked with a grin on his face when he saw Juvia's reluctant nod. She was shocked that the circumstances had turned so radically. A moment ago she was captive and now offer her what she wanted! A chance to help the war end and perhaps even to play a significant part in the overthrow of the country that once she called home. Without thinking she spilled out the words. "Can Gajeel join too?" The Master chuckled, and Juvia grinned bashfully.

flashback

At this moment, Juvia sat around the blazing bonfire, her hands stretching out to the heat. Her eyes were unconsciously drawn to a man sitting two campfires away. The campfires were not significantly large or even enough for the number of people around them, and Juvia's chest was still warmer than any other place she had been. With a loud rattle, Juvia accomplished to divide her eyes from the bare-chested Partisan. Juvia studied the closest thing she has to a brother, an unyielding expression of determination on his face, his lips were like if he had sewed them himself. Next to him set two men, who remained hostile-eyed toward him and a blue-haired girl staring at a spot of land near the fire, the isolated location that grass was poking through the white blanket of snow. The spy in Juvia screamed in her subconscious to extinguish the flames so the smoke wouldn't disclose their location, but the master stated it was all right, only for a few minutes of heat before dark, numbing night.

Juvia thought about the developments of the few past days in astonishment, she has some friends now, she belongs to an admirable-causes' group, her best friend is here with her, she has love object (even though he have no knowledge of her feelings and probably will not return her feelings). The only thing that prevents her from savoring those moments is that in this second there are dozens of camps that murder thousands of Jew indiscriminately. That was the principal reason her smile didn't reach her eyes, although another reason for her condition is that Gajeel isn't willing to apologize. The day before Natsu (she had learned the name of the stupid pink-haired guy) and Gray had assaulted them, Gajeel ran into the cerulean-haired girl, Levi, and assumed she was the enemy. He had injured her, not seriously, or killed her (like how he usually did while they were in the army), but the purple bruises danced on her face and neck, piercing out in front of her fair skin and snow. Juvia bent approaching Gajeel, whose hair was a few inches longer than the military haircut that was always on his head. The red in his eyes didn't stop menacing people. "Nothing will happen if you apologize. No one will think less of you, in truth, I think they appreciate that." She murmured to his ears alone. "I know you're sorry about the whole incident." Gajeel didn't respond, except that his lips hardened, he stood abruptly and marched briskly to the edge of the grounds.

A silhouette sat beside her instead of Gajeel, she saw an exposed skin, her face became flushed uncontrollably. 'You are a soldier' her mind told her 'act like one,' however the speed of her pulse didn't slow down, and the heat in her cheeks only got dangerously red. "I owe you an apology." A rich, low, familiar voice spoke. 'Gray,' the thought of him sitting near her, the idea of him coming here mainly to converse with her dizzied all her wits. Juvia gazed at him disoriented, one reason was that she couldn't think clearly with him so near her, and the second reason was the word she was able to recognize, 'sorry, why should he ask her forgiveness?' "Juvia doesn't follow you," she replied in a voice that was too faint to be her own. "About all your injuries and on the way I behaved in our first encounter." Gray stated, and Juvia could see that it was difficult for him to acknowledge it. She welcomed the intention, but she couldn't accept his apology, she doesn't deserve it. Juvia knows she had to suffer for what her nation did to his family, his hometown, and to the people that share the same religion as he. Juvia will willing accept any punishment for that deed. If she ever received a death sentence for the sins of her nation caused, Juvia would carry it gracefully and walk straight to her destination. "You don't ought to apologize, Juvia earns those injuries." She looked back at the fire. Red, orange and yellow swirled together, like snakes wrapping around each other trying to beat the others first. A sweaty hand rested on her small back, right where the torn part of the shirt Lucy had lent her. The uniform aroused too many problems and distress to the camp. The heat from him was unnatural, everyone else was freezing and not radiating with heat, instead of stealing her heat like some other people, Gray give her heat. "The Master told me everything, you deserve none of it ... and that's what I'm sorry about." There were silence and flames danced again.

" A minute to extinguish campfires" someone called in the distance, Natsu complained to Lucy in a childish cry. "Just .." Gray continued, not to accept Juvia's silence as an answer. " when I saw the uniform and..." "You've lost your temper," Juvia has completed his sentence, "don't worry Gray-Sama, Juvia understands." Juvia felt the hand parted from her and sensed his weight neglect the long log they had been sitting on. For the last time, Juvia looked at his face. His lips stretched into a thin line, 'almost a smile' she thought. What a magnificent view. "extinguish all the bonfires in camp!" the same voice from a minute ago called. The rustle of the legs and the 'bzzzz' sound of fire met snow was heard all over the camp.

At night in every hour someone watched over the camp and when Juvia's turn arrived the moon was glowing at its fullness. The brilliant light almost shines through the trees. Bewildered by the beautiful site Juvia almost fail to catch the soft sound of footsteps slowly creeping closer toward her. In a split of a second, her hand went to the knife hidden in her right thigh. She was pushed into a snow-covered tree, Juvia's back bumped softly against the rock-like trunk, it felt like someone protected her from the full blow. "Good instincts, sharp reflexes but intoxicated by pretty things" the low-raw voice that often visits her dreams said. Gray was looking on her knife pressed against his neck. "you can let the knife lose, I'm not going to hurt you" Gray whisper, but Juvia only held it tighter. "Juv.. I don't think so. even though Gray know I no longer a Nazi, for you I still a German." Gray laugh at that, like her terror isn't reasonable nor expected, like he will never hurt her in the middle of the night without any witnesses, he laughed like he never even thought of it. "don't fear me" he whispered sensually. His breath tingling Juvia's nose and a shiver run throw her bones. Before she could understand what was happening his lips devours hers and her knife fall to the ground. His big warm hand held her face and Juvia melt into the feeling. Her arms wrapped uncontrolled around his neck, her eyes closed, small moans escaped her throat when Gray moved his other hand to grab her round butt. On instincts alone, Juvia's legs encircled Gray's hips. Gray start humping back and forth, crashing all his weight into her. A sharp cry came out of her when their groins connected for the first time. Gray growled deeply and continued with all his might. Suddenly someone at the remote call Juvia's name and just like how fast it started, its end. Juvia walked confused to the lookout point to exchange shift with Lucy, wondering what the hell just happened and what she could do to make it happen again.

[soundslikethis]

Car Wheels to Cartwheels

Learning to wait like a child

9/17/22

Hi!

If you received this newsletter in your inbox today, thank you for being my first group of readers. 

The thought of writing a newsletter has been with me for about a year now. Over the last several months, I formed many ideas that I didn’t know how to glue together. Recently, I decided to throw those ideas at a puddle of glue. 

This is the result. 

***

Waiting is a funny thing. It’s not exactly fun. But it’s weird how it’s supposedly the time when you can relax while anticipating for the next thing. We don’t always treat it like that though. Sometimes we just want it to pass as quickly as possible. 

When I was taking my driving test, I was anxious to finish it. At first, things were good. The examiner’s pencil continuously hit the clipboard with checkmarks until she asked me to return to the DMV.

Upon arriving at a red light, I made a full stop. 

I thought, “Just one more turn and I’m done.”

Hastily, I made a right turn. The traffic light in a different lane changed to green in that exact moment, and I almost hit the oncoming cars.

That’s how I failed my first driving test.

One week later I retook the driving test. When I arrived at the same traffic light, I waited then safely turned back to the DMV. I passed the test and got my driver’s license.

***

Some people know how to wait patiently. They understand that waiting patiently goes hand-in-hand with self-discipline. They exercise self-control and reap the benefits later.

I’ve practiced this kind of waiting before, where discipline leads to something good. Failing my first driving test reminded me to be more careful and patient with the second one. Eventually, I got what I hoped for.

But there’s another kind of waiting, where surrender leads to freedom. I used to do it so naturally as a child; I could ask for help without hesitation and not worry about the timing.

***

My first time learning to tumble (for exercise) happened at school. I had mastered doing forward and backward shoulder rolls when my teacher introduced a new, exciting move: the cartwheel.

Since many of my classmates already knew how to do a cartwheel, I felt the urge to catch up. I raised my hand for help then tried to do cartwheels on my own while waiting for the teacher. Every single attempt ended with my face on the mat.

A quiet boy, sitting in the corner, started giggling. I had never heard him make any noise until then.

“You made him laugh,” whispered my classmate.

The realization that he was laughing at me was embarrassing.

I didn’t want to do another cartwheel again for the risk of looking dumb. But my classmate decided to show me exactly what I looked like. Immediately, I covered my mouth to stop from laughing. She looked so goofy. Somehow we all ended up laughing and doing “cartwheels” together. Me, her, and the quiet boy. 

Before long, the teacher came by and taught us how to do cartwheels properly. Our giggling probably made his job harder, but we were just so happy because we were already having fun.

***

Waiting might look like the twin of “doing nothing” but they’re not necessarily related. (Perhaps they’re identical strangers.) Waiting reveals the heart. It shows us what we really want, where we place our security, and how we’re willing to respond. 

For me, waiting looks like smashing dozens of clocks. Some of those clocks I bought myself. Others were given to me. With no more clocks to look at, I go before God. He’s not my problem-solver but he is my father. I share my desires and wait. He may withhold the answer out of mercy, or he may bless me with I’m able to contain. It can happen quickly or over a long period of time. Regardless, in the meantime, I remind myself to do silly cartwheels because the next stop is only a turn away.

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Every edition of Sounds Like This includes a title inspired by a song. Inspiration for today’s title was drawn from “The Circle Game” by Joni Mitchell.

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[doorsclosingslowly]

Your death is a number but I cannot count that high (6/?)

In which Asajj is subjected to yet another unpleasant conversation.

Zombie Savage AU | 2.1k | canon divergent after Son of Dathomir | also on AO3

Death Watch must be utterly indifferent by now to their leader’s antics, or resigned to them a least. Maul’s breakdown is effortlessly ignored. Everybody must have overheard the conversation. They must have witnessed their apparent commander choke a visitor and then huddle on the floor, mindless and gibbering and terrified of a Sith Lord who isn’t here, but it looks like the Mandos are adept at pretending they haven’t, and the helmets definitely help. There are no accident gawkers, or at least none to be noticed. Instead, quickly, the busy pace inside the cargo hold picks up again.

The Mandos return to their tasks, ignoring Asajj’s presence and occasionally veering off their straight paths to keep a wide circle around Maul clear and empty. At least most of them do: there’s a protective honor guard next to him, still.

The purple-armored soldier is one of them, of course. The other—as short as Maul, but easily twice as wide—wears beskar painted yellow and adorned with spikes.

“Update all rescue teams. Comm Gar. You heard Lord Maul: our brother is not dead. He is in the hands of the enemy. Command meeting, sixteen hours sharp,” the purple Mando shouts, and immediately, the hold empties.

Then, the helmet’s visor turns in Asajj’s direction, and back to Maul. Squatting down next to him, though far enough that his arms can’t reach—that won’t help at all when he loses it again, Asajj thinks—the purple Mando says something in a language Asajj doesn’t understand, and Maul replies in kind, incredibly slowly, stumbling over a syllable or two and with a pronunciation completely unlike the practiced tones of his counterpart, but obviously determined. Asajj’s name comes up, once or twice.

Maul never before seemed the type to openly, intentionally display his shortcomings, not to enemies and especially not to his allies. The breakdown was unavoidable, perhaps—Asajj would rage at the deaths of her family too, if she had a little less self-control—but he’s regained use of his faculties now. This is a deliberate choice.

Only one reason why he’d be speaking, or trying to speak, Mando’a now: this is something they don’t want me to know. It puts up Asajj’s hackles, a kind of vulnerability in ignorance that might well be another motivation, if, after meeting him today, she still was to credit him with the intelligence needed to play these kinds of mind-games. Maybe this is a shade of what he used to be like. It’s easy to forget, seeing him, but he was raised a Sith. He is like her; not like Savage Opress plucked from the fields and magicked, but trained, like Asajj herself and like her former Master Darth Tyranus. She should not keep underestimating this nightbrother.

Regardless: they’ve reached a truce. An alliance, if not in so many words. Maul hasn’t even questioned her properly yet, but at least he knows he knows nothing. He cannot get what he wants without her aid. Whatever these machinations… for the moment, she is as safe as anyone could be, in his company.

Maul heaves himself up onto his knees. His feet, just as unsteadily. He doesn’t favor her with another glance when he leaves, and then Asajj is alone with his guard.

“Follow me, Asajj Ventress,” the purple Mando says. “To your room.”

“You have me at a disadvantage. Your name?”

A beat. Then, the soldier removes her helmet and joggles her chin-length dark hair, not completely unlike a wet finkwolf. “Rook Kast. This is Jagrub.” Pointing over her shoulder with her thumb, Rook Kast, life-long fanatic criminal and the Face of the Terror of Mandalore according to at least five people Asajj has met, indicates the massive gamorrean sow behind her. Jagrub’s also taken off her spiked helmet.

“You brought your bodyguard?” Asajj smirks, which then occurs to her was a tad unwise, perhaps, even if it makes her feel better, but: truce. Maul needs her. A guard detail is as befitting the woman’s obvious status anyway, really. Terror of Mandalore indeed, and in the short time since her arrival, Asajj has seen Kast’s closeness to Maul. Second in command, maybe, or even more. Caretaker. The power behind the throne. It’s not like a feral nightbrother has much experience in leading an army.

Still. A bodyguard. It would be flattering, if it wasn’t so insulting. Another forceblind won’t make even the ghost of a difference to her chances of survival, should Asajj choose to leave.

Kast’s face is effortlessly still. “She’s not here to protect me.”

Whatever.

Politeness is a scarce resource on Mandalore, evidently: Kast and Jagrub take off without another word, straight through a crowd of Mandos that respectfully divides at their approach, expecting Asajj to follow them. It’s left to the guest to attempt small talk. “I wouldn’t have expected anyone to order you to show a visitor around, Rook Kast.” Forward, again, but it’s not like she even attempts to hide her authority, and Asajj is curious. “It’s usually less of a general’s duty. I’m sure you have a busy schedule.”

“I volunteered,” Kast says, and then she smiles at Asajj so widely the light glints off her teeth. It does not reach her eyes.

It shuts off conversation until they reach Asajj’s designated quarters, visually indistinguishable from any of the other rooms she’s glanced at through oddly luxurious stained-glass windows or open doors. A quartet of bunk-beds, and a table. Asajj inspects the door-handle—there is a code-lock, too, but neither of her companions offer to set it and Asajj doesn’t ask—and then she strides in. Kast and Jagrub follow. The door slides shut.

“What did you want to talk to me about in private?” Asajj asks eventually, after a few seconds, when she has tired of being stared at. No response. Apparently, Maul’s found the one cache of people in the galaxy who share his awful habits.

Time for a gambit. Testing the fault line. The limits of Maul’s authority. Surreptitiously, Asajj touches her ‘sabers. It’s not like there is any real risk here—Asajj might piss off Kast, but general or not, the woman’s still only a forceblind soldier. If Asajj is wrong about Kast’s purposes, then this conversation will definitely find its way to Maul’s ears, but even that is only a minor concern. Maul hates her, anyway. He’s tried to wring her neck for long enough to prove it. He won’t breach their truce, though, not if he wants to see his brother again. The brother who is in Sidious’ hands now, apparently. He’ll need all the help he can get, and he’ll prioritize Savage’s recovery. Here goes nothing.

“Something you don’t want Maul to hear, perhaps?”

“Of a sort.”

“It is fairly obvious that he’s not particularly stable—”

“I am curious,” Kast interrupts. “I am Mandalorian, Asajj Ventress. My old enemies, too, are Mandalorian, and they possess honor. I have never before met someone who so utterly devalues family.”

Asajj snarls. She doesn’t care what this this smug soldier thinks of her, this Death Watch terrorist fighting for the restoration of barbaric total and constant war—many of Asajj’s sources in the attempt to track Opress were recent refugees from Sundari’s old regime—and moreover: Kast allied herself with Maul. With the man who drew Mother Talzin into his conflict with Sidious. With the man that got her killed. The man who destroyed the entirety of her clan and the only people Asajj hadn’t yet lost. The man who took her Sisters.

And now she dares lecture Asajj about family?

“Fuck off. You know nothing about me. You know nothing of what I have lost.”

“Interesting.” Kast’s face blanks, and then, obviously deliberately, she grins. By the second, it’s more obvious why she didn’t hesitate for a second to take off her helmet: with her studied off-kilter body language, it’s like she’s wearing another mask below. “True, perhaps. I don’t particularly care either way.”

“Then what—”

“However—I do know of you, Asajj Ventress. As soon as I heard your name, I remembered you.” Kast shrugs, settling her shoulders, and then without warning she changes tack: “Has anybody ever… begged you to kill them?”

Asajj shifts, moving her back surreptitiously closer to the wall and her arms akimbo: her hands, once more, above her lightsabers. She won’t be caught unawares again. For all the tone of that question is closer to idle conversation than Kast’s previous terse statements, for all her face is still wearing a smile, for all the turn in conversation that’s brought them here is opaque, since anyone this readily turning a simple objection into a standoff should not survive to become a general… this is a death threat.

The bodyguard takes in Asajj’s readiness for battle, even if Kast doesn’t. Takes in their meagre chances of survival against a trained force user, too. She puts a placatory hand on her superior’s shoulder.

Kast doesn’t shrug it off. She leans into the touch eagerly, fingering Jagrub’s massive shoulder-spikes with a trembling hand and intense concentration, and then she adds, “It’s an interesting experience. Not particularly pleasant. I have killed scores of enemies, and yet… I would not even have made the Duchess or her pacifists beg, I think. Now that I know, anyway. Didn’t really know what I was getting into. I don’t know what I expected, when I decided to find out what kind of person my new Mand’alor was after we retook Sundari.”

“Maul wouldn’t beg for death.” He’s miserable, and Asajj has watched him howl vengeance at Kenobi deep in the throes of madness, but he wouldn’t ask to die. That’s not like him. She doesn’t know him that well—and does not particularly want to learn more—but this, she knows.

“Lord Maul wouldn’t,” Kast readily agrees. “But then he’s the last person I’d pick for plying with alcohol until he’s too drunk to stay tight-lipped, too. A lost cause from the start. No chance of getting anything out of the poor paranoid bastard. He doesn’t even drink. He says he likes water.”

The worms inside Asajj’s ribcage writhe again. She kind of knows where this is going.

“Fortunately, he had a brother. As you know. Has, and we’ll find him. Much more approachable, and so I invited him along to our victory party. Well, Gar and Kaat did. He was terrified of me. Very flattering, until I figured out why anyway. Nothing like the rest of you arrogant force-users, so I was already predisposed to liking him, and when he asked us for a favor, I foolishly said yes.”

So: Savage Opress wants to die. That’s not even news. He’s been shouting it in her mind for weeks now, and if the sleepwalking cuts on her arm are anything to go by, he’s got in a respectable try already.

His conversation with Kast must have been weeks before he was abducted by Sidious, though. It must be about more than the torture, then.

It…

“I’d have said yes anyway, even with hindsight. He was easy to pity. He wouldn’t stop crying after a few beers, when he told me—you already know what he told me, Asajj Ventress. You forced him, after all.”

“I—” Asajj starts, but whatever she might have replied is simply steamrollered. This is not a conversation, after all. This is a death threat.

“He gave me options. Weaknesses in his fighting style he’d noticed or learned from Maul. General weaknesses of force-users, too. He gave me a long list of body parts to blast and tried to give me his lightsaber, too, so I would have an easy time of killing him, if—when, he said, when he was used again to hurt his little brother.”

Jagrub runs a claw through Kast’s hair in a slow swirl, messily sticking it up, and she calms again.

“I know what you did, Nightsister. I promised Savage I would protect Maul, and I will. I gave my word. Mandalore gave hers, too, when she embraced her new-found sons, and we keep our promises. You said you’d let Feral live and you betrayed him, but when you break your next oath—” Kast cocks her fingers as a blaster and aims. Fires. She blows smoke off it— “when you touch him again or anyone at all, I swear on my home: one single twitch, and it will be my pleasure to deal the consequences.”

“We all look forward to the dissolution of this alliance,” Jagrub rumbles. “For now, you are useful. Do not attempt to escape.”

They leave the door open.

[badwolf1988-blog]

Let it Snow

Summary: Emily gets caught in a snow storm on her way home from an evening class. She seeks shelter from her brother, Jason, only to discover that he's out of town on business. Luckily, his boss, Sonny Corinthos is home across the hall and offers her his penthouse to ride out the storm.

Rated: Light Teen

Disclaimer: Haha, you’re funny if you think I own GH.

Disclaimer II: Real Genius and all related quotes are copyright © TriStar Pictures. The Breakfast Club and all related quotes are copyright © John Hughes and Universal Pictures. All quotes are in italic.

Disclaimer III: Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow is copyright ©, Dean Martin.

Author's Note: This story is an alternate universe. Carly and Zander never happened.

Author's Note II: This story was requested by @AnitaBeach (on wattpad)

A BIG thank you to my beta reader, Meghan!

Status: COMPLETE

Mid-December 2001

Emily stomped the snow off her boots, earning herself a glare from the Harborview Towers doorman, before heading towards the elevator bank. She really hoped that Jason was home.

She had stayed behind after her evening chemistry class at PCU to do some research. She was a sophomore and studying pre-med. Her chemistry grade had been struggling recently and she had wanted to get a little more studying in before winter break began. Unfortunately, she hadn't checked the weather that morning and she had no idea that while she had her nose in her books, a nor'easter was slowly bearing down on Port Charles. By the time she had gotten a clue, the buses had all been shut down, the cabs had cleared the streets, and the school phone lines were down. She really needed to invest in a cell phone. Luckily, Emily knew that her older brother's penthouse was only a few blocks from PCU so she had made the short but freezing walk.

She had just stepped off the elevator on the top floor of the building when the lights started to flicker.

“Emily, what are you doing here?”

Emily gasped and spun towards the familiar voice to find Sonny Corinthos standing at the closed door of her penthouse. “Crap, Sonny, I didn't see you there.” She brought a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart.

“Obviously.” The handsome older man chuckled. “Seriously Em, what are you doing out in this weather? It's dangerous out there. I was just about to go and tell my staff to go home.” He was looking at her with true concern on his face.

“I stayed too late at school,” she admitted. “By the time I got out of class, most of the city was shut down. I was hoping that Jason was home so I could stay with him.”

Sonny slowly shook his head. “Jase is out of town on business.” She really hoped that business wasn't killing someone. “You really need to get yourself a cell phone, sweetheart.”

“I know,” Emily growled in frustration as she stomped her foot like a petulant child.

Sonny full on belly laughed. “Calm down, querida. Jason may not be home but you can ride out the storm with me. I doubt that I'll be going anywhere... at least for the next few days.”

Emily's heart felt like it had done a backflip in her chest. Ride out the storm in the home of Sonny Corinthos? Her brother's boss, Lucifer in the eyes of her family, and the man that she had harbored a crush on since she was fourteen? Could she do that? Did she really have any other choice? It's not like she could go back out into the storm.

Day 1

After calling her mom to her let know that she was safe, Sonny had offered to let Emily use his steam shower while he cooked dinner for the two of them. Suddenly realizing that the snow she had been covered in had melted and she was now soaked to the bone and freezing, she had readily accepted this offer.

As she stood under the hot cascade of water, Sonny knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” she called.

She heard the door open. “I'm leaving a shirt and bathrobe for you on the back of the door.”

Emily was surprised when she got out of the shower and discovered that the shirt that he had left her was one of his dress shirts. Something about slipping into a piece of fabric that had been on Sonny's body warmed a place inside of her that she had only recently discovered.

A small smile played on Sonny's lips when she finally joined him downstairs at the dinner table. “You look good in my clothes, querida,” he told her as he held out her chair for her.

“Thanks,” Emily mumbled and blushed.

“How old are you now, Emily?” he asked as he retook his seat.

“Twenty,” she replied, confused as to why he was asking.

Day 2

The next morning, Emily had woken up to discover that, instead of easing up, the storm had actually gotten worse. Another nor'easter had moved in during the night and, colliding with the first one, had created a superstorm over Port Charles. The snow was expected to last for another forty-eight hours at least.

Slipping into her now dry jeans and sweater, Emily had walked downstairs to find Sonny seated on the couch going over some paperwork.

“Snow days are for fun, not work,” she chided as she plopped down next to him.

Sonny tossed the stack of papers onto the coffee table and turned an amused smirk on her. “What kind of fun do you suggest we have, sweetheart?”

The way he was looking at her, like she was prey, made her uncomfortable so Emily ended up blurting out the first thing that came to mind, “Let's watch a movie.”

Half an hour later found them with the lights dimmed, a bowl of popcorn between them, and the movie Real Genius playing on the television.

“Would you be prepared if gravity reversed itself? The only thing I can't figure out is how to keep the change in my pockets. I've got it! Nudity!”

Emily was laughing so hard that she had tears in her eyes.

“Do you realize how stupid this movie is?” Sonny asked as he grabbed a handful of popcorn out of the bowl.

“Do you mind if I name my first child after you? Dipshit Knight has a nice ring to it.”

Emily giggled. “Come on, this is Val Kilmer at his best,” she argued.

“No.” Sonny shook his head. “Top Gun was Val Kilmer at his best.”

“We plan this thing for weeks and all they want to do is study. I'm disgusted. I'm sorry but it's not like me, I'm depressed. There was what, no one at the mutant hamster races, we only had one entry into the Madame Curie look-alike contest and he was disqualified later. Why do I bother?”

Sonny just looked at her and nodded at the screen like Val Kilmer's insane monologue proved just how stupid the movie was.

Emily threw a few pieces of popcorn at him. “It's an 80's movie. It's supposed to be stupid.”

Day 3 (very early)

Emily was damn near shivering as she knocked on Sonny's bedroom door. The power had gone out at some point during the night and, apparently, the heating system was electric. She really hoped that he had some extra blankets hidden away somewhere.

“Em, I was just about to come and check on you.” Sonny was wide awake when he opened the door.

Emily could see that he had a fire going in the fireplace that the lucky bastard had in his room. “Yeah, I was hoping you had some extra blankets. It's freezing in here.” She rubbed her arms. “How long has the power been out?”

“A few hours.” Sonny stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. “And the guest room's chilly normally, it must be an igloo right now. You can sleep in here with me.”

“What?” That was an offer that she had no way in hell expected.

“We're grown ups. We can share,” Sonny shrugged. “The fireplace keeps it pretty warm in here.”

As Emily cuddled under the comforter and got a whiff of Sonny's unique coffee and cedar scent, a small shiver of desire escaped her. She was actually in Sonny Corinthos' bed. A place she had wanted to be since she had pretty much hit puberty.

“Are you still cold, sweetheart?” Sonny scooted closer and spooned against her back, wrapping his arm securely around her waist.

When she shivered again at the contact, Sonny's entire body went stiff for a brief moment before he gently rolled her over to look at him. “You want me.” It wasn't a question. “How long?”

“Since Jason first introduced us when I was a kid.” She was caught, she might as well be honest. “I understand that you don't feel the same way. It's no big deal.”

Sonny snorted, “Don't feel the same way? You know, querida, for such a smart woman, you can pretty dumb sometimes.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked as her heart sped up.

Sonny reached down and gently stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Sweetheart, I've been trying to keep my hands off of you since I saw you get off the elevator. Damn it, Emily, when did you grow up to be such a knockout?”

She blushed. “Sonny, kiss me,” she demanded softly.

He happily obliged.

Day 15

Emily and Sonny had been seeing each other in secret ever since the snowstorm and while, normally, she was fine with all the secrecy, today was one of the days that it sucked. It was Christmas and she wasn't getting to spend it with the man that she was slowly growing to love.

It was after Christmas morning service at Queen of Angels Church and Emily had escaped to her room to get away from her family's bickering. There, sitting on her bed, she found a red gift box. Curiously, she opened it... to find a brand new cell phone and a note from Sonny.

**This way you can call me the next time you feel like getting snowed in. You're on my plan, sweetheart. I better hear that beautiful voice often.**

Day 66

Their secret was blown on Valentine's Day of all days. While out for a romantic dinner a town over in Queens Point, they had the misfortune of running into Emily's parents. Emily hadn't noticed them until after they had already witnessed her dancing in the arms of the man they hated and sharing a kiss with the feared mob don.

To say that Monica and Alan Quartermaine were upset with their daughter's choice in a romantic partner would have been an understatement. They had given her a choice: Ditch Sonny or find a new place to live. That's how she found herself curled up on Sonny's chest in what was now their bed as she softly cried.

“I know this is hard, baby,” he gently stroked her hair. “They'll come around,” he assured her. “In the meantime, you still have Jason and you'll always have me.”

He was right. Jason had known about them pretty much from the beginning and was completely fine with the relationship so long as Emily was happy and safe.

“I know.” She laid a kiss on his bare chest.

His arms tightened around her. “I love you, Emily,” he told her huskily.

That was the first time he had said the words aloud. Emily had known for awhile that Sonny loved her. The proof was in his actions, not the least of which was allowing her to move into the penthouse with him. As for her? She had known that she was in love with him ever since Christmas when he had gifted her the cell phone.

She picked her head up to look at him. “I love you too, Sonny.”

He grinned, his dimples on full display, as he pulled her down and stole her lips in a passion filled kiss.

Day 365

“Screws fall out all the time, the world is an imperfect place.”

It was a typical Saturday night for them. Sonny was seated at his desk, working on paperwork while Emily lay on the couch indulging in her love of 80's movies.

“Hey, how come Andrew gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up, it'll be anarchy!”

She'd never be sure if he had done it on purpose but Sonny chose that exact moment to throw down his pen and get to his feet.

“Alright, sweetheart, that's enough John Hughes for tonight.” He grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and turned the TV off. He held out his hand to her. “Come one, I have a surprise for you.”

She let him pull her to her feet. Keeping one hand interlocked with hers, he pulled her out onto the terrace, pausing only to turn on the CD player that had suddenly appeared on the table next to the door. Sonny wrapped her arms around her from behind and they gazed out over the city as Dean Martin serenaded them.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...”

“You know that it was a year ago today that you stepped off that elevator and changed my life, sweetheart.” He lightly nuzzled her neck as, ironically, a small flurry of snowflakes began to fall.

“Man, it doesn't show signs of stoppin'

And I brought some corn for poppin'

The lights are turned way down low

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...”

“I love you, Emily.” He kept his arms around her waist but opened his right hand to reveal a diamond ring lying in his palm. “Will you do me to honor of being my wife?”

She turned in his arms so quickly that he almost dropped the ring. “Yes!” she cried as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Sonny slid the ring on her finger before pulling her in for a kiss.

FINIS

MY WEBSITE

[tiasmusings]

The Kobayashi Maru - She is Borg

Twenty-six years in Starfleet flag rank, fourteen overseeing at least one day of this exam each year, and the Proctor Blind still unnerved Jorel Quinn. A space above the holographic bridge, hidden by a clever series of force fields and holographic camouflage, allowing the counselors, instructors, and Admirals who observed the examination to see directly without being seen those who were taking it.

 “It’s not going to work,” Captain Sulu said to his left. “Every single psychological profile ever performed on her indicates a deeply modified basic thought pattern. She wrote Borg for her species when she applied to the Academy. She is going to leave the test unaffected, and then what will we do?”

 There were other ex-Borg among the Academy’s officer pool. Recent conflicts with the Collective had led to far more drones being captured in the past three years than had been taken in the entire twenty-fourth century, and medical advances made removing those drones’ connection to the Borg a frequently-successful endeavor. If a drone could be taken alive, they could be safely de-assimilated nearly three-quarters of the time. Those who finished the long period of counseling to recover from the ordeal frequently joined Starfleet, either out of alienation from their homeworlds, a desire to see the good in a galaxy that had shown them its worst, or a need to take the fight back to the Collective, either to try to destroy the evil it embodied or to save others from its grip. But this cadet… she was different.

 She was born to the Borg. A clone, genetically enhanced by the Collective, rescued by a Cardassian research ship when the Cardassians stumbled on a disabled probe. Her genetic makeup was mostly human, so the Cardassians, who she still called her family, had sent her to Earth.

 “Pass her,” Caroline Walton murmured. “The purpose of the test remains the same, Akira. It’s not for us to decide whether an officer has passed it or not; if they still feel fit to serve in a command role after it is done, they are certified.”

 Captain Walton’s words were not entirely accurate. There was still, for most, the Bridge Officer Test, though some completed the test prior to the Kobayashi Maru. Caroline had been one of those… when she briefly served as a flag captain under him, Jorel had read the report on her own Kobayashi Maru. It had been… traumatic. Much of Caroline Walton’s early career had been traumatic, yet here she was.

 “Maybe we should be using the data gathered in the test to evaluate…” Akira began.

 “She’s on the bridge,” Jorel said, interrupting him. Indeed, the synthetic cadet who she had chosen as her second for the test was rising. “Quiet now.”

 -------------------------

 “Captain on the bridge.” Liresh and Sura were on their feet the moment Erika stepped out of the holographic turbolift, and was who had called out. The white shoulders of her cadet uniform - an informal indication for those who had passed the Bridge Officer Test but not yet graduated the Academy, who were technically qualified for starship command in the dire event that every bridge-qualified commissioned officer on a vessel were incapacitated, still sat oddly on her, but her friends treated her like she deserved it.

 She would prove them right.

 Three weeks from graduation, from when she and Liresh and Sura would begin their first cruise. Four sparkling bars on her collar, an ensign’s quarters already set aside for her aboard the Eagle, where she would room with the android and the Vulcan.

 And with someone else - an ensign, even one assigned bridge duty, would have three roommates.

 “As you were.” She had done command exercises for the last two years, but this was the first time she was formally treated as a starship captain. Liresh retook her seat next to the center chair, and Sura turned impassively back to the Ops console.

 The bridge was spacious, as one would expect aboard one of the old Sovereign-class explorers, and when Tatsu took the center chair, it was comfortable. It fit her, the way no other seat ever had.

“Report.”

“Distress call received 0810,” Sura said, her voice the model of Vulcan efficiency. “Freighter SS Kobayashi Maru has fallen under attack by Romulan forces, requests immediate assistance. Warp engines nonfunctional. We are the only ship in range. Enemy numbers unknown… at least two Dhelan-class warbirds.”

“Signal the Kobayashi Maru that help is coming. Helm, maximum warp.” The inertial dampeners groaned as the ship changed heading while moving at more than a thousand times the speed of light.

“Two minutes to intercept,” Sura said.

“Shields up. Broadcast all frequency: Romulan ships must leave the area immediately or be fired on.”

“No response. One minute to intercept.”

The Tellarite man at Tactical - Tatsu had seen him around the Academy, but they didn’t move in the same circles - called out, “Targets designated Alfa, Bravo.”

Her armrest display tagged the targets. “When we come out of warp, full spread of quantum torpedoes. Fire to disable, Alfa priority.”

The Tellarite swallowed a grumbled insult and replaced it with a “Sir,” and the human helmswoman spoke. “Fifteen seconds.”

“Exit warp at will.”

The ship shook slightly as it dropped out of warp and into Hell. The two Romulan ships circled the freighter, alternating firing cycles as they gradually stripped it of shields. The Tellarite gave a satisfied growl as he gave the fire command, and six white quantum torpedoes streaked from the ship’s forward turret.

“Target disabled,” the Tellarite said.

“You see it, don’t you?” Liresh whispered.

“Helm!” Tatsu called out. “Evasive maneuvers, pattern gamma-two. Sura, I want transporters on the freighter’s crew.” She saw it. The pattern the Romulans were using made no sense for a raid or an attempt to kill the crew of the freighter.

This was a trap, and the Kobayashi Maru was unknowing bait.

“We’ve got them,” the Tellarite muttered, but thankfully the helmswoman obeyed immediately. As the ship banked, Sura’s breath caught. Just a moment. From Sura, a moment’s breathlessness spoke volumes.

“Neutrino surge above and aft,” she said. “Warbird battlecruiser decloaking.”

Disruptor fire burned space where the Sovereign’s exposed nacelle pylons had been seconds before, and Tatsu gripped the armrest tightly. “Auxilliary power to shields. Tactical, choose targets at will.” This would be the start of a war between the Imperial Remnant and the Federation. “Sura, transporters.”

“Kobayashi Maru reports damage to primary shield controller,” Liresh said, having taken over communications from Sura. “They can’t manually lower shields for transport. Attempting to match their shield harmonics with our own.”

“Target bravo disabled,” the Tellarite reported. “Battlecruiser designated Charlie…”

“You’re going to need more letters,” the helmsman said. “Computer’s reporting contacts forward…”

“Two heavy warbirds,” Sura said. “They’re firing torpedoes.”

“Brace for impact!” Tatsu and Liresh yelled out together. There was nowhere to go.

The next thing she knew, Tatsu was pulling herself off the deck, only the quick repair work of her bloodstream nanoprobes keeping her from having been cut open on her forehead and arm. Liresh and Sura had somehow kept their seats, but the Tellarite was unconscious near his station, and a human was rushing to take his place. “Give me some good news,” Tatsu said as she fell back into her seat.

“We have matched shield frequency of Kobayashi Maru and are transporting survivors aboard,” Sura said.

“The bad news,” Liresh added, “Is that we have hull breaches on decks 3, 4, 10, 12, and 17, damage to the starboard nacelle, and are surrounded.”

“Liresh, I want you calculating a warp trajectory out of here. Helm, evasive maneuvers.” Tatsu stared at the viewscreen, at the sensor readouts on her armrest. She knew already what Liresh was going to say… without the Romulans committing a gross tactical error, there was no escape vector.

A ship as heavy as Sovereign could not, with anything resembling safety, evade three determined enemies that had her surrounded. Not in what was already a debris field.

And that was assuming there were no other cloaked ships out there, waiting to cut off any escape Liresh managed to find.

“Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam,” Sura murmured.

Today is a good day to die.

The battlecruiser fired again.

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

The bridge was dark, smoky. Most of the crew left almost immediately after the test, coughing as they went, but Sura and Liresh stayed a few extra moments. Finally, Liresh released her shoulder and walked out as well, leaving her alone on the shattered bridge of the Sovereign.

“Fifteen minutes, eight seconds.” She knew that voice. Admiral Jorel Quinn, recently-named Commander of Starfleet. He took the seat beside her, the one Liresh had left just moments before. A blonde human woman she did not recognize, with the white shoulders of a starship captain, sat in the counselor’s seat to her left.

“Losses were complete,” Tatsu said. “The crew of both the Sovereign and the Kobayashi Maru were killed. What few escape pods launched would be captured or destroyed by the Romulans. There were other choices I could have made. Cleared a path for the freighter instead of beaming its crew aboard. Ordered warp as soon as the trap became obvious. One would have sacrificed Sovereign, the other the crew of Kobayashi Maru, but there would have been survivors.”

“You could have declined the distress call,” the blonde woman said. “I considered that, when I took the test.”

“Duty,” Tatsu said. “It is the duty of a starship captain to help those in need.”

“That’s what stopped me.”

“I believe I understand the lesson,” Tatsu said. “It is something Captain Picard once said. ‘It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose.’ Information was incomplete; any set of choices would lead to regrets.” She sighed. “I took the set of choices that seemed best with the information I had, but it turned out to be the one with the greatest cost. How do you account for that?”

“You learn,” the blonde said. “Instinct. Experience.”

“And sometimes you get it wrong,” Admiral Quinn added. “And sometimes people die because of it. And the next day, you have to make choices with incomplete information again.”

Tatsu nodded slowly, digesting their words, then rose. “I apologize, Admiral, for not standing when you came in. I did not hear you.”

Quinn and the blonde rose a moment after she did, and the blonde offered her hand. “I’m Captain Caroline Walton, USS New Horizons. It will be an honor to serve with you, Cadet Tatsu.”

Tatsu swallowed the response that tried to escape - that, if her judgement turned out this badly in the field, Captain Walton would not be serving with her long. “Thank you, Captain. Admiral. May I be excused?”

“You stand relieved for the rest of the day, Captain.” Admiral Quinn gestured to the bridge. “Report to classes in the morning.”

“Thank you, Admiral. Sir.” Tatsu brushed some dust from the dingy white of her shoulder, and left.

“It got to her,” Caroline said as Akira stepped out of the blind.

“Do you really think she’s qualified?” Akira asked them both.

“We’ll find out,” Admiral Quinn said. “Eagle is her assignment. She’s going to Vega.”

[musescomefrompain]

 @satansaurusrex said: 

There was so much Vera didn’t know about Sebastian but so far he seemed nice, smart and interesting. She got the sense that he cared about his people and that was enough for now. Vera had the rest of the night to find out more.

    “ The lower ballrooms sound great, I would love to see them. Is there anything else in Fillory I should see? I've never been here before. ” Vera replied, she wanted to understand why not discussing certain politics would endanger them but decided it would be best to keep the conversation light. 

Sebastian spun her again and Vera realized that he had mentioned going to Loria a couple of times, but she hadn’t heard of him visiting. As she settled back in his arms Vera asked

“You mentioned having visited Loria a while ago, when was that? I don’t recall any official visits, maybe we could change that at some point? There are some amazing holidays and traditions that I would love for you to see and participate in.” 

 Vera hoped that it didn’t sound like she was flirting. She had a tendency to accidentally flirt while trying to seem friendly and it had gotten her into some awkward situations. Vera had to explain her fondness of women and distaste in men more times than she wanted to and the conversation usually ended quickly after. She didn’t care if Sebastian found out but Vera didn’t like being vulnerable with people unless she trusted them first. 

The Lorian Queen was young, but she seemed kind and attentive. She was bright... well spoken, and graceful, and Sebastian thought that Loria could have done worse in their leader. He hadn’t been to their court, not since he was a young king, but he kept trade alliances open with both East and West Loria. 

He smiled as the queen mentioned going to the lower ballrooms. “You are more than welcome my lady, but you should know that they are... less restrained there. My people are given to celebration when they can, and in recent years, with the Takers, celebration has been rare indeed. But, they are safe here in the Castle. So, we allow for parties in the ballrooms where the lords might mingle with commoners... though there is this room reserved for foreign dignitaries.” He explained “And Fillory is a land of wonder, all places would welcome you I am sure. But... you must travel with someone who knows Fillory now. Someone who can teach you to avoid risks” 

He smiled as the Queen spun and he retook her in his arms with gentle formality. 

“Oh... My visits to Loria were probably before you were born” he explained. His people knew of his Immortality... that happened when you ruled a counrty for over 300 years. “I traveled and worked in Loria when I was a younger man... some, 350 or so years ago” he explained “You may have given me an excuse to return. “ he offered. 

Sebastian was a flirt, he couldn’t help it. Beautiful men and women... though the latter held little true interest to him. Flirting was a way to get people off their guard and on his side. He weilded his charm like a weapon, and this dance was no exception. “You lovliness would be enough to give me reason to visit”