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stylesonfilms · 5 days ago

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ink & innocence - 25

word count: 5.0k

The next morning arrived with a flurry of responsibilities for both Aspen and Harry. Her schedule was packed—starting with a 10 AM lecture that stretched an hour and a half, followed by two more classes, both with looming exams. Meanwhile, Harry had a back-to-back lineup of clients at the shop, as did Zayn and Niall.

Despite the busy day ahead, Aspen moved with a lightness in her step, a dreamy haze lingering from the night before. She hummed softly under her breath as she slung her bag over her shoulder, fingers brushing against the strap as she adjusted it. With a quick swipe, she tucked her phone into her pocket, her ponytail bouncing as she padded toward the kitchen, still lost in the events of last night.

The moment she stepped into the room, her gaze landed on a bouquet resting on the counter, wrapped in delicate white paper. The flowers were breathtaking—soft pink lilies and creamy white roses nestled together, tiny sprigs of baby's breath woven throughout. A single tulip lay beside it, its petals fresh with morning dew. Aspen's lips parted slightly, a warm blush creeping onto her cheeks before she even had the chance to ask.

Isobel, who stood at the stove stirring eggs in a pan, glanced over her shoulder with a knowing grin. "Harry stopped by this morning while you were still asleep. Left those for you."

Aspen's heart gave a little flutter. He came by? She stepped closer, fingers brushing over the velvety petals as she took in their soft fragrance. It was such a simple gesture, but it made her chest bloom with something warm and golden.

Her gaze flickered to the side, noticing another bouquet in a vase by the sink—this one different, scattered with a mix of wildflowers and a single sunflower standing tall in the center.

"Harry dropped something off for me too, from Zayn," Isobel added, reaching for the salt to sprinkle over the eggs. "A sunflower, because I mentioned I liked them once. Cute, right?"

Aspen's fingers traced the smooth edges of the paper wrapping, her heart swelling at the thoughtfulness behind it all. "They really are something else," she murmured, before her eyes landed on the small folded note tucked beneath the bouquet.

Her breath caught as she picked it up, unfolding the paper with careful fingers.

"My darling Asp,

Good morning! I wish I could have seen you before I had to go, but you were soundly and peacefully asleep. Thank you for last night. Being with you is an incredible feeling that I can never get without you. I miss you every second, and I love you. Best of luck with today, sweet girl.

Harry. X"

Aspen pressed her lips together, her fingers gripping the note a little tighter as she read over his words again. It was simple, effortless—but it was him. The sincerity, the affection—it settled deep in her heart like an embrace she could carry with her all day.

"You're grinning like an idiot," Isobel teased, bumping Aspen's hip with hers as she turned off the stove.

Aspen only let out a soft laugh, cheeks still warm. "I can't help it." She carefully folded the note and slipped it into her bag, a keepsake she knew she'd revisit more times than she'd admit.

She turned her attention back to the flowers, gently tucking them into a glass vase, arranging them just right before setting them next to Isobel's. They looked beautiful there—like little remnants of love left behind.

"Oh, yeah! Harry brought me the sunflower along with Zayn's bouquet, and Zayn tagged on a tulip for you," Isobel added, nodding toward the single tulip still resting on the counter. "Something for both of us."

Aspen reached for the tulip, twirling it between her fingers before glancing over at her friend. Without thinking, she moved closer, looping her arm through Isobel's and resting her head on her shoulder with a small, content sigh.

"You're okay with that, right?" Aspen asked after a moment, her voice soft. "It doesn't make you uncomfortable that Harry got you something? Or that Zayn got me something?" She tilted her head up slightly, suddenly feeling a little shy about it.

Isobel let out an easy laugh, shaking her head as she set down the spatula. "Asp, don't be ridiculous. Of course not." She turned slightly, nudging Aspen playfully. "I think it's sweet how they take care of us both. Honestly, it's kind of adorable."

Aspen exhaled a quiet breath of relief, her small smile returning. She didn't doubt Harry's intentions—not for a second. But hearing Isobel say it so easily made that warmth in her chest settle even deeper.

She glanced back at the flowers one last time, unable to resist the way her fingers skimmed over the petals again. She wasn't sure how she got so lucky—how she found someone who loved her in such quiet, thoughtful ways. But she wasn't going to waste a second of it.

After slipping the note safely into her bag, Aspen grabbed her phone and made her way toward the front door. She still had time before class, and though she knew Harry was already at the shop, she wanted to hear his voice—just for a little bit.

The cool morning air greeted her as she stepped outside, the scent of dew still lingering in the breeze. She pulled her phone from her pocket, heart doing a little flip as she tapped on Harry's contact. It barely rang twice before his deep, familiar voice came through.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Aspen smiled, the warmth in his tone already making her stomach flutter. "Hi, H." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she balanced her phone between her shoulder and ear, adjusting the strap of her bag as she started toward campus. "I just wanted to thank you for the flowers—and the note. That was really sweet of you."

She heard the faint hum of background noise, the occasional buzzing of a tattoo gun in the distance. Harry let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah? You liked 'em?"

"I loved them," Aspen admitted softly, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I—I wasn't expecting it, but it made my morning, so... thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, sunshine. Just wanted to do something nice for my girl." His voice was smooth, affectionate, and she could practically hear the smile in it. "I wish I could've been there to see your face when you found 'em."

Aspen bit her lip, her cheeks warming further. "Isobel said you stopped by this morning. You must have been up so early."

"Didn't mind it," Harry replied easily. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't wanna wake you."

The image of him standing outside her apartment, dropping off flowers while she was still curled up in bed, made her chest tighten in the best way. He was always so thoughtful in ways that made her fall for him over and over again.

"Oh! And tell Zayn I said thank you too," she added, remembering the tulip. "The flowers were beautiful."

"I will," Harry promised. "He'll probably say somethin' dumb like 'you're welcome, but I'm still the prettier one' or whatever."

Aspen giggled. "Sounds like him."

"Mm. Speaking of which, he and I were talking this morning—figured we'd swing by later after my shift, if you're up for some company."

Her heart leapt slightly at the thought of seeing him so soon. "Really?"

"Yeah, baby. Thought we could all hang out for a bit. Unless you're sick of me already."

Aspen rolled her eyes, though her smile never wavered. "You know I could never be."

Harry let out a content sigh. "Good. 'Cause I miss you already."

Her blush deepened, and she was grateful there weren't many people around to witness how flustered she'd become. "You just saw me last night."

"Exactly."

Aspen shook her head, but the giddiness in her chest wouldn't fade. "Well... I'd love to see you later. I've got exams today, but once I'm done, I'll be free."

"You're gonna do amazing," Harry assured her. "I just know it. My girl's brilliant."

Aspen smiled at the conviction in his voice, her nerves about the exams easing slightly.

"I hope so."

"I know so," he corrected, and she swore she could hear the smirk in his voice.

Before she could respond, she heard someone calling Harry's name in the background, followed by the faint rustling of movement.

"Shit—gotta go, sunshine. Client just walked in."

"Oh—okay! Good luck today," she said softly, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"You too, sun. I'll see you tonight, yeah? I love you."

"Yeah. I love you, Harry."

"Bye, baby."

"Bye, H."

The call ended, and Aspen sighed dreamily, pressing her phone to her chest for a moment before shaking herself out of it.

Time for class.

The next few hours passed in a blur of lectures and exams, but Aspen found herself feeling more confident than she had in a while. Maybe it was Harry's unwavering belief in her, or maybe it was the lingering warmth from his morning surprise, but either way—she tackled each exam with steady determination.

By the time she handed in her last test, she felt good.

She wasn't naive—she knew she wouldn't be scoring a perfect 100, but she had done her best. And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

As she exited the lecture hall, a cool afternoon breeze brushing past her, she pulled her phone out and shot a quick text to Harry.

Aspen: just finished my exams! i think they actually went really well. thank you for the extra confidence boost this morning. you were right. ☺️

She didn't expect an immediate response—he was likely still with a client—but seeing his name in her messages sent another wave of warmth through her.

Feeling lighter, she made her way back home, where the familiar scent of Isobel's cooking greeted her as soon as she stepped inside.

Isobel looked up from the counter where she was slicing vegetables, eyebrows raising. "Well? How'd it go?"

Aspen set her bag down and leaned against the counter, her lips curving into a soft smile. "I think... I actually did really well."

Isobel's face lit up. "Yes! I knew you would." She wiped her hands on a towel before reaching over to pull Aspen into a quick hug. "I'm so proud of you."

Aspen melted into the embrace, grateful for the support.

"Oh—by the way," she said as she pulled back. "Harry and Zayn might stop by later."

Isobel smirked knowingly. "Might?"

Aspen rolled her eyes. "Will, then."

"Mhm," Isobel teased. "Y'know, you might as well just give him a spare key at this point."

Aspen's cheeks flared with heat. "Oh, my God—stop."

Isobel cackled, clearly enjoying herself, but she softened a second later. "I think it's sweet, though. He really adores you, you know."

Aspen bit her lip, trying (and failing) to suppress the smile spreading across her face. "I know."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The metallic click of the shop door's lock echoed in the quiet street as Harry twisted the key, securing the entrance for the night. Zayn stood beside him, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket while Niall let out a yawn, stretching his arms overhead.

"Long-ass day," Niall muttered, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "I swear, if I see another drunk walk-in trying to get their ex's name inked, I'm quitting."

Zayn smirked. "No, you're not."

"Yeah, probably not," Niall admitted with a chuckle. "Anyway, you two heading out?"

"Yeah, we're gonna stop by Aspen and Isobel's," Harry replied, pocketing his keys. "You coming?"

Niall tilted his head in thought. "I'll think about it. Gotta shower first. Maybe I'll swing by after."

As Niall stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, he took a few steps back from the shop, rolling his shoulders with an exhausted sigh. "Well, I'm off. If I don't show up later, I either fell asleep or changed my mind. Probably both," he quipped, flashing a lazy smirk.

Zayn smirked back. "Your loss, mate."

"Yeah, yeah," Niall waved a dismissive hand, turning on his heel. "Tell Aspen and Isobel I said hi."

Harry chuckled, watching as Niall sauntered down the dimly lit street, his footsteps soft against the pavement. The streetlights overhead buzzed faintly, casting a dull orange glow that barely reached the edges of the alleyways. The night was quiet aside from the occasional distant honk or the muffled chatter of pedestrians from a few blocks away.

Then, as Niall rounded a corner and disappeared from view—

A low, slow hum broke the silence.

Harry's fingers instinctively curled around the key in his hand, his grip tightening as the unmistakable sound of tires rolling over asphalt crawled into his ears. It wasn't just any car. The deep, steady purr of the engine was too smooth, too controlled—something expensive, something deliberate.

Zayn stiffened beside him, the air shifting between them as their bodies went rigid with awareness. They didn't have to look to know who it was.

The vehicle prowled toward them like a shadow slipping through the night, its sleek black exterior barely reflecting the dim glow of the streetlights. The tinted windows were impossibly dark, swallowing any trace of the inside. It came to a calculated stop just feet away, the silence that followed more deafening than the noise itself.

For a moment, nothing happened.

The two of them stood still, breath shallow, instincts screaming that they were being watched from behind the blackened glass. The cool night air suddenly felt suffocating, wrapping around them like a vice.

Click.

The back passenger door unlatched, creaking open ever so slightly, just enough to reveal the shadowed interior.

A pause.

Then, a voice— low, composed, laced with an almost lazy amusement that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rise.

"Get in."

Leone.

Neither of them moved at first. Zayn's jaw ticked, his fingers twitching at his sides, but he remained still. Harry, meanwhile, swallowed down the sharp unease slithering through his chest. He wasn't afraid—not exactly—but there was a certain heaviness to moments like these, a silent knowledge that once they stepped into that car, they were at the mercy of whatever came next.

Harry cast a glance toward Zayn, whose dark eyes met his for a split second—calculating, resigned.

Without another word, they moved.

Zayn slid in first, followed by Harry, their muscles coiled tight as the door shut behind them with a soft but final thud. The scent of leather and faint traces of cologne clung to the air inside, thick and almost suffocating.

Silence.

Harry's pulse drummed steadily against his ribs, but his expression remained unreadable, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting as he settled into the seat.

The car pulled away from the curb, smooth and soundless, vanishing into the depths of the city like it had never been there at all.

Leone sat ahead of them, silent. The only sound was the faint rumble of the tires over asphalt and the rhythmic, menacing click of Leone's ring tapping against the leather seat.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Harry shifted slightly, the movement slow, deliberate. Carefully, he slid his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over the screen as he typed out a quick message.

Harry: Small delay. Be there soon. Don't worry.

He pressed send just as the car hit a rough patch in the road, using the movement to subtly tuck his phone away again. He barely had time to settle before a pair of cold eyes flicked toward him in the rearview mirror.

Leone had noticed.

Harry held his breath, keeping his expression even as the man studied him for a second too long before turning his gaze back ahead.

The car pulled into a secluded alleyway, weaving through dark streets until they reached a rundown building with boarded windows and a rusting fire escape hanging loose from its side. The tires crunched over gravel as the vehicle rolled to a stop.

The doors swung open again.

Two men—large, broad-shouldered, faces shadowed under the dim streetlights—grabbed them roughly, yanking them out of the car.

Harry barely had time to react before a firm hand shoved him forward, nearly making him stumble. He caught himself with a hiss, but the grip on his arm tightened.

"The fuck is this?" Zayn growled, voice low as he tried to shake off the hold on him, but it was useless.

Neither man answered.

They were hauled inside the dark building, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of gasoline and damp wood. The floor creaked beneath their boots as they were forced forward into an empty, cavernous space.

Then, without warning, a shove.

Harry crashed into a chair, the wood scraping sharply against the floor. His arms were wrenched behind him, rough rope biting into his wrists as they were bound tightly to the backrest. Zayn suffered the same fate beside him, both of them cursing under their breaths as they struggled against the binds.

Heavy footfalls retreated.

Silence.

Thick, suffocating darkness enveloped them.

Harry's breaths came slow and measured, his jaw clenched as he tried to adjust his grip against the restraints. Zayn sat just as tense beside him, his breathing sharp through his nose.

Minutes passed.

A single overhead bulb flickered to life, bathing the room in a sickly yellow glow. The light cast harsh shadows against the walls, making the space feel smaller, more suffocating.

Footsteps echoed from the far end of the room.

Steady. Unhurried.

Leone stepped into view.

A cold smirk curled at the edge of his lips, his hands slipping into the pockets of his tailored coat as he took his time closing the distance between them.

"Well," he murmured, tilting his head slightly as his sharp gaze swept over them. "We have a lot to talk about."

The silence in the dimly lit room was suffocating, thick with tension and the stale scent of cigarettes and sweat. The air was damp, clinging to Harry's skin as he flexed his wrists against the rough rope binding them to the wooden chairs. His fingers curled into fists as he forced himself to breathe evenly, his jaw tight with controlled rage. Zayn sat beside him, his own expression hardened, dark eyes glaring up at the man who stood before them.

Leone.

He was dressed as he always was—meticulous, precise. A deep navy button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the ink that crawled up his forearms. He took his time dragging a slow inhale from the cigarette between his fingers, exhaling a plume of smoke that drifted lazily above their heads. Behind him stood two of his men, their presence looming, watching—waiting.

"Well," Leone finally murmured, his voice smooth, almost conversational, as he took a step closer. "We have a lot to talk about."

Neither Harry nor Zayn responded.

Leone exhaled through his nose, flicking a bit of ash onto the ground as he took another step forward, his boots echoing against the concrete floor. He rolled his shoulders before tilting his head slightly, studying them as if they were nothing more than disobedient children.

"I'd really hate to believe that two of my most reliable guys—two boys I've given so much to—would fuck me over." His voice was laced with mock disappointment, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. "But imagine my surprise when I go to count my money from the other night, and I come up short."

Harry's muscles tensed. His stomach curled with disgust as Leone crouched down to their level, holding up a single finger.

"Over a thousand fucking dollars short."

Zayn's jaw ticked, but he kept quiet, his eyes flickering toward Harry, whose breathing had deepened, nostrils flaring.

Leone turned slightly, nodding toward one of his men. "Tell them what you told me."

The man took a step forward, his expression impassive. "They counted up eight grand. That's what they gave us."

Leone hummed, dragging the cigarette to his lips before blowing the smoke directly in Harry's face. "Yeah, except when I counted, there was only seven."

Harry clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to recoil from the smoke burning his throat. His blood simmered beneath his skin, his restraint hanging by a thread.

"We didn't fucking take your money." His voice was sharp, cutting through the thick air like a blade. Cold and firm, unwavering.

Leone chuckled.

And then, before Harry could react, the cigarette was dragged along the side of his neck, the faint sting of heat trailing along his inked skin before—

Crack.

A sharp slap landed against Harry's face, the force snapping his head to the side. A searing burn blossomed across his cheek, the sharp edge of a ring breaking skin. A faint trickle of blood slipped down toward his jaw, but he remained still, his fists curling tighter beneath the ropes. His ears rang slightly, but the white-hot anger inside of him burned louder.

Leone tilted his head, taking in the sight of Harry's bleeding cheek with a smirk. "If you didn't take it, where the fuck is it?"

Zayn straightened, his voice firm. "We counted exactly what we got. We didn't pocket a single fucking dollar."

Smack.

This time, the blow landed across Zayn's face, sending his head snapping to the side. He let out a low hiss, jaw clenching, but he refused to give Leone the satisfaction of a reaction.

Leone sighed, feigning disappointment as he shook his head. "You really expect me to just take your word for it?" He turned slightly, pacing in front of them as he took another drag of his cigarette. "That's the problem with you two. You think you're untouchable. Think you can do whatever the fuck you want without consequences."

Harry's teeth gritted. "We didn't fucking take from you."

Another hit—this time a brutal punch to Zayn's stomach from one of Leone's men. He gasped slightly, swallowing down the sharp pain, his head dipping forward for a brief second before he lifted it again, eyes burning with defiance.

Leone turned to Harry. "What about you, huh?" He crouched down again, tilting his head. "You gonna tell me the truth, or are we gonna have to keep playing this little game?"

Harry's lip curled, his voice dry. "Go fuck yourself."

Another hit.

This time, one of Leone's men slammed a fist into Zayn's ribs, forcing a rough grunt from his lips as his body lurched slightly against the chair. He exhaled sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring, but he refused to let them see him break.

The cycle continued. Accusations. Retaliation. A hit for every defense.

Leone spewed filth at them, words laced with venom, taunting and cruel. He degraded them, calling them ungrateful little shits, mocking the way they sat tied up like weaklings. He told them they were nothing without him, that they owed him, that he made them.

Minutes passed of the pain lingering and blood dripping alongside the harsh words.

Harry spat.

A mixture of blood and saliva landed near Leone's expensive shoes, just inches from where he stood.

His scowl deepened as he lifted his head, voice razor-sharp with venom.

"Check the fucking cameras."

Silence.

Leone's eyes darkened.

Harry held his gaze, his chest rising and falling steadily, unfazed. His jaw was tight, his cheek throbbing, but he didn't care.

A tense moment passed.

Without a word, Leone turned on his heel and disappeared into the next room. The only sounds left were the faint buzz of the flickering bulb overhead and the uneven breathing of the two boys.

Zayn exhaled through his nose, rolling his aching shoulders. "Think he'll actually check?"

Harry flexed his fingers. "Doesn't have a fucking choice."

Minutes crawled by, stretching thick and heavy. Finally Leone returned. A slow, amused smile stretched across his lips, his eyes glinting with something sickly amused.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, placing his hands on his hips. "Looks like my men made a mistake in miscommunication."

He took another step forward, crouching slightly to tilt his head at them.

"You're free to go."

Harry's lip curled in disgust. Fucking bastard.

The ropes burned against Harry's wrists as one of Leone's men roughly untied the knots, yanking them free with a final jerk that sent a sharp sting through his already bruised skin. Zayn let out a quiet grunt beside him, shaking out his own hands as soon as they were free, rolling his sore wrists with a scowl.

"Get the fuck out," one of the men sneered before a forceful shove sent Harry stumbling forward. He caught himself at the last second, his muscles coiling as he clenched his jaw.

Another shove.

Zayn staggered slightly but caught his footing just as they were both forced through the metal door, spilling out into the dark alleyway behind the building.

The heavy steel door slammed shut behind them, the echo of it reverberating through the narrow space. A streetlight flickered at the far end of the alley, casting a sickly glow over the cracked pavement and scattered debris. The air was damp, filled with the faint scent of mildew and trash, and the sound of distant traffic hummed in the background.

Neither of them spoke at first.

They just stood there, breathing heavily, the weight of what had just happened settling into their bones.

Zayn was the first to move. He exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders before swiping a hand across his mouth, wiping away a smear of blood. "Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. "That was some bullshit."

Harry huffed a humorless laugh, pressing his fingers against his throbbing cheek. The cut Leone had left behind was warm and wet, the sting of broken skin sharp under his touch. "Yeah," he muttered, "no shit."

Zayn turned slightly, scanning their surroundings before letting out a low curse. "Where the fuck even are we?"

Harry sighed, glancing up at the looming buildings that surrounded them. The streets were unfamiliar, the alleyway giving no clear indication of which part of town they were in. His body ached, his ribs sore from the hits, but they had to keep moving.

"We need to go to Aspen and Isobel's," Harry said after a moment. His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Zayn turned to him with a questioning look. "Are you serious?"

Harry wiped the back of his hand across his busted lip, nodding. "Yeah. If we don't show up, it'll look suspicious."

Zayn scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair before letting it drop back to his side. "Mate, we look like we just got the shit beaten out of us."

"We did just get the shit beaten out of us."

Zayn gave him a look, and despite everything, Harry let out a small smirk. It hurt like hell, pulling at his busted lip, but it was something.

Zayn exhaled. "We need to clean up first."

Harry pulled his phone from his pocket, the bright screen illuminating his bruised knuckles as he quickly scrolled through his contacts. He found Aspen's name and hit call, bringing the phone to his ear as he and Zayn started making their way toward the street.

The phone rang twice before Aspen's sweet voice came through the line.

"Hi, Harry."

Something in Harry's chest tightened. Even through the pain, her voice was like a balm, easing the sharpest edges of his anger.

"Hey, baby," he murmured, his voice softer than he expected. He cleared his throat, straightening his posture as he forced a casual tone. "Listen, there was a bit of an accident at my place. Zayn and I were putting away some kitchen supplies I ordered, a blender and such for those milkshakes you wanted, and the shelf came loose. Stuff came crashing down, and I—uh—got a little knick on my face."

Aspen's sharp intake of breath made him wince, guilt tugging at his ribs. "Are you okay?"

Harry forced a small chuckle, glancing at Zayn as they stepped out onto the street. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just a scratch, really. We're gonna clean up, and we'll be over soon."

She hesitated, but she didn't seem suspicious. "Okay," she said softly. "Just—be careful, please?"

Harry smiled faintly, nodding even though she couldn't see him. "Always."

They exchanged a few more words before Aspen told him she'd see him soon. When the call ended, Harry let out a slow breath, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Zayn gave him a look. "Kitchen supplies? A blender?"

Harry shrugged. "It was the first thing I could think of."

Zayn snorted, shaking his head. "She bought it?"

Harry nodded, adjusting his pace as they moved down the street. "Didn't question it."

Zayn exhaled. "Lucky bastard."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before they spotted a small pub on the corner of the street. The neon sign above the entrance flickered slightly, casting a dull red glow onto the sidewalk.

"This'll do," Harry muttered, nodding toward the entrance.

They shoved their way inside, ignoring the lingering stares from a few patrons as they made a beeline for the restrooms. Once inside, Harry turned the faucet on, cupping his hands beneath the cool stream of water before splashing it onto his face. The sting was immediate, but he gritted his teeth through it, watching as diluted blood swirled down the drain.

Zayn stood beside him, dabbing at his split lip with a damp paper towel. "We should start charging him for this shit," he muttered. "Hazard pay."

Harry huffed a quiet laugh, running wet fingers through his curls before examining himself in the mirror. The cut on his cheek wasn't deep, but it was noticeable. His lip was swollen, and his knuckles were raw. A small patch of deep blues and greens started to swell under his eye, but an ice pack should have it gone in no time.

Zayn looked just as rough. A dark bruise was already forming along his jaw, and there was a red mark on his temple.

"We look like hell," Zayn muttered.

Harry wiped his face with a dry paper towel before tossing it into the trash. "Yeah, well, let's just hope the girls don't notice." The man twisted his fingers around each wrist, soothing the burn of the rope. It wasn't enough to leave a mark, but it hurt like hell for now.

Zayn gave him a flat look. "They're women. They notice everything."

Harry sighed. "I'll figure it out."

After cleaning up as much as they could, they made their way back to the bar, asking the bartender where exactly they were. Luckily, they were only a fifteen-minute walk from Aspen's place.

As they stepped back out onto the street, Zayn shoved his hands into his pockets. "What if Leone pulls this shit again?"

Harry glanced at him, his jaw tight. "Then we deal with it."

Zayn let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

They walked in silence for a moment, the cool night air biting against their bruised skin.

"You know," Zayn said suddenly, "we could just—get out. Cut ties. Leave all this shit behind."

Harry scoffed. "You think it's that easy?"

Zayn sighed. "No. But I don't know how many more times we can do this."

Harry exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "We'll figure it out."

Zayn didn't respond.

Because they both knew— deep down— that they weren't getting out that easily.

#harry styles #fanfic #one direction #zayn malik #niall horan #fanfiction #wattpad fanfiction #wattpad #louis tomlinson #harry styles fanfiction #smut #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

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xxlady-lunaxx · 9 months ago

Text

I love you; I don't | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Angst? It's not bad but there's no fluff lmfao

Note: Spoilers<33

A little UzuRen mention

Idk but when I tell people my oneshot ideas somehow they always make me get angst ideas from what they say abt it, my sister told me i should end this in angst 🫡

btw the part 2:

part 2

×××

"Tomioka."

Giyuu turned at his name, tilting his head at the Wind Hashira who stood there, his arms cross and eyes averted.

"Yes?"

Sanemi bit his lip, as if contemplating his life choices. "I like you. Romantically."

Giyuu gave a start, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing. "What?!"

"That's what I said," Sanemi snapped, embarrassed. He looked up, glaring at Giyuu through his bangs. "Do... you want to go out??"

"I... I-" Giyuu was at loss for words and his mouth opened and closed several times.

"Take your time," Sanemi said, rolling his eyes.

Giyuu looked down. He wanted to say yes, really, he did. But. But, if he dated Sanemi, he would end up losing him. It wasn't like he could protect Sanemi—one, Sanemi was at the same level (if maybe less or more) of strength as him, and two, he would never let himself be protected, really. Which just increased the chance of losing him, paired with the fact that they were both Hashira and were always sent on missions that were considerably harder. Dating Sanemi would only make Giyuu grow fonder and closer to him, which would make the loss... a thousand times more devestating. So...

"I'm... sorry, Shinazugawa," Giyuu whispered. "I... can't."

Sanemi blinked, speechless for a second, before nodding rapidly. "It's fine. Alright. See you around." Then he turned and seemingly disappeared.

Giyuu sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He felt bad but... he'd feel worse if he lost Sanemi. Which was practically destined to happen if he had accepted, given his luck. People seemed to die away like flower petals on a picked rose when they got close to Giyuu.

×××

"I don't fucking know! It's like... I was getting mixed signals, it's just... Fuck," Sanemi groaned, banging his head on the table. "But he said no. And now there's not fucking way I can show my face to him again."

Obanai sighed. "We should go somewhere else, people are staring," he said.

"Right..." Sanemi grumbled, standing. "Let's go to an ocean so I can drown myself."

Obanai rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing Sanemi by the wrist and pulling him down a road. "Walk, bitch. We'll go find a place we can train so you can let off some steam."

"Mm."

After Sanemi got ahold of himself, the two walked down the path side by side in silence. Obanai spoke up after a couple minutes.

"Just forget about Tomioka. It won't happen in a flash but... try? If he said no he probably means no and he's just stupid for acting like he likes you then rejecting you. For all we know he might not be into men. I don't know, just try leveling your own feelings with his and see what you can get from it. But... yeah, I would ignore Tomioka too," Obanai said, glancing at Sanemi. "It's not like you two talk much in the first place, so it'll be fine."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Comforting. But, I guess. I'd prefer just to not think about him, to be honest."

"That too," the ravenette said, nodding. "Anyways, relationship are tedious things when you're a Hashira. Or just in the Demon Slayer Corps, period."

"Mm. And yet we have Uzui—in the Demon Slayer Corps, a Hashira—somehow married. To three people. And you can't convince me otherwise that he doesn't have his eyes set on Rengoku too," Sanemi said, scoffing.

Obanai laughed. "He's just built like that. The little fuck is more interested in romance than saving people's lives."

"Eh, wouldn't we be too if demons didn't exist?" Sanemi asked, crossing his arms.

"Fair point. Or not. I don't know if I'd exist if demons didnt," Obanai murmured thoughtfully.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"...Right."

"...Back to Tomioka," Obanai said, quickening his pace.

"No, not back to him. There should be a clearing up ahead, wanna spar?" Sanemi offered, unsheathing his katana.

"Bet. Loser has to buy the other something?" Obanai proposed, grinning.

"Count your money, I want ohagi," Sanemi said, racing ahead of him.

"HEY-"

×××

Years had past—yes, years—and Muzan was killed and Hashira were lost. Amongst the living Hashira were Giyuu and Sanemi. Tengen, as well, although he had retired a couple months before. And now that there was no obvious constant threat on their lives, they could live more freely, think more freely.

Paired with the knowledge of when they would die, Giyuu felt as if he could act upon whatever he wanted to. Befriend whom he liked, grow closer to those he wanted to. Somehow, throughout the years, he had loved Sanemi all the same. The feeling had wavered sometimes, but would come back in full bloom only a few weeks later. Since he no longer felt as if he would lose someone immediately because of himself, he decided to tell Sanemi of this.

So, one day, he sent a crow to Sanemi, asking if they could meet together, maybe eat lunch. The letter was messily written as his dominant(is he right-handed?) hand was gone, but he hoped that Sanemi would be able to read it alright.

Luckily, he seemed to have been able to, as he arrived at noon at the park Giyuu had invited him to. The two had both brought their own lunches and quickly found a place to sit and eat. It was quiet for a moment as the two got their bearings together. The weather was nice, warm with a light breeze, and there was a soft scent of sakura flowers in the air.

Giyuu ate clumsily, not yet used to using his left hand as he struggled with his chopsticks.

Sanemi tilted his head towards him, an amused smirk growing on his face. "You eat messier than Rengoku."

Giyuu huffed. "I'm trying!"

"Mhm. What did you me to come here for? Just to eat?" Sanemi asked, putting down his chopsticks.

"Ah. You know when... you said that you liked me?" Giyuu said hesitantly.

"Well fuck, going right in. Yes. I don't want to remember that," Sanemi said pointedly, sighing.

Giyuu gave him a small, lopsided smile. "Alright. Well, I told you 'no,' not because I didn't like you, but because I didn't want to lose you. You understand, yes? I'm sorry... for that. And for not explaining. I just... panicked. I didn't want to risk losing you, then blaming myself forever," he murmured.

Sanemi stared at him. "That's... Fuck you," he said, grumbling.

Giyuu sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you telling me this now, though??" Sanemi asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's really out of the blue."

"Ah... About that," Giyuu said, his voice lowering. "So..."

"Hm?"

"About what I said, that I said no, not because I disliked you? Well. Well, I did like you. I... do," Giyuu mumbled. "I like you." He cast his eyes down as he waited for a response. When he didn't get any, he looked back up at Sanemi.

Sanemi looked hesitant, his eyes down at his food on his lap.

"What's wrong?" Giyuu asked curiously.

"I just..." He trailed off, his eyes meeting Giyuu's. "I don't like you like that anymore. I stopped, after a while. I figured I had no chance, so..."

Giyuu blinked. God. Of course. He should've expected this. "Oh."

"Sorry," Sanemi murmured.

Giyuu shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, no, like you said before, it's alright. It's fine. You don't have to apologize, it's completely my fault. Uhm... I have to go now, I just remembered I promised to meet Tanjiro later, see you around..." he said, fumbling with his food and standing, quickly rushing off.

"TOMIOKA-" Sanemi shouted, his food falling to the floor as he stood.

Giyuu didn't look back, pressing a hand to his mouth to stop a sob that threatened to spill out. He should've expected this. There was no way in hell Sanemi would've stayed in love after years, it was a miracle he'd loved him in the first place. Of course.

×××

« Word count: 1380 »

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loveandleases · 11 months ago

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(Happy Valentine's Day~ I hope everyone has a good day be that alone or with someone. Thought I would do a nice little snippet of one of the Valentine's Day of MC's past. It's a bit long but either way hope you enjoy.) Shifting around in your desk chair, you reach a hand out to graze along the soft petals of roses sitting on your desk. It had been the third set of flowers that came for you today. The first were in your chair when you arrived this morning, the second set waiting for you in your locker in the break room. The third set, the ones you’re currently admiring, were waiting for you when you got out of your meeting.

You had to admit, they were quite beautiful. Each dozen a different color than the one prior. The first a soft yellow, with a card wishing you a good morning. The second a nice orange, another card with well wishes for the day. This set, a nice lavender shade, though the card had yet to arrive.

A soft smile on your face, that is until you feel hands cover your eyes. Your body stiffens, wondering if it’s the sender of what is getting to be your little flower garden. Then slowly your senses begin to adjust allowing you to pick up a familiar scent. A scent you’ve grown familiar with. Warm vanilla. Making it easy for you to put a face to the voice that then whispers into your ear.

“If it isn’t the second most popular person in the office.”

Reaching up you grab her soft delicate hands and move them down, finally opening your eyes. “Were you that bored without me here, Kara?”

She scoffs, before looking down into your eyes. Furrowing her brows, an expression that doesn’t suit her delicate features at all. You watch as her gaze drifts , realizing then that you’re still holding her hands.

Pursing her lips Kara yanks them away, almost as if the simple contact burnt her. Her cheeks slightly redder than they were before. Must be the heat, at least that’s what you thought.

“I was getting tired of picking up all the slack. Do you know how many nights I had to stay late? I thought you were supposed to be back last Friday?”

It’s hard not to grin at her, as she folds her arm and gives you a very forced pout. Kara was never one to stay late at the office, unless you were involved.

“Sorry, flight got delayed. By that point Keegan just gave me the rest of the weekend off. Has it been busy?”

“No more than usual, that’s not the point. I’m going to visit my parents this week. I was hoping I would see your before I leave. I can’t leave in good conscience without knowing the second best office worker is here.”

She starts to fiddle with her bracelet, her fingers grazing along the little rose charm.

“Those are some really big words Ms. Clarke. Some would say you’re vying for my spot.”

She shakes her head, looking around the office with its fluorescent lighting and stark white walls. Then to the flowers that adorn your desk. The most colorful thing in such a dull space, well aside from you. “I hope you like them.”

Your gaze follows hers, and nod without a second thought. “How could I not? Beautiful aren’t they?”

You don’t hear the sigh she lets out, or see the smile she sends your way, as you grab a stack of papers to take into the copying room. Kara follows suit, mentioning the recent visitors to the office, the amount of filing she had to do all by her lonesome. Some would say Kara could be dramatic, especially in her retelling of stories. Though you had to admit that was something you always enjoyed about her.

“So, did anything happen?”

“When?” You begin pressing along the screen of the copying machine, content when it actually works. Whirring as it begins to cycle through the papers, and print them out.

“On your vacation.” Kara flips through the extra sheets of paper on the counter top. Little did you know, the only thing she was paying attention to was you. Not the corrections on the files, the whirring of the machine or the warmth of the room.

The only thing she was focused on was the way your eyes crinkle as you smile at her. The way your fingers tap along the screen of the machine, ensuring it prints just enough. The levels of the ink to your liking. The way you rubbed the side of your neck, still trying to fight the stiffness from sitting at your desk for so long.

Shaking your head, leaning a hip against the counter as the papers continue to print, you look at her. Unsure of what shes thinking when she looks at you.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, why?”

She swallows, licking her full lips before grinning at you. “I thought Chris would have asked…”

Her voice cracks, she then begins to cough. To cover what she almost let slip.

“Ask wha-”

“If you wanted to have lunch before I go back home over the weekend. It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. I guess you two were just too busy.” She winks at you grabbing the copies before you could manage. Nice save Kara.

“Come on, if we were busy doing...that, why would I tell you?”

Kara rolls her eyes, walking backwards out of the office.

“Kara wai-”

“Ouch!”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh, as Kara turns to see who she ran into. Ignoring the papers that had fallen out of her hands and now litter the floor. “Chris?”

“Hey sis. Really need to watch where you’re going. What if I got hurt? What would you do without me around to save you?”

Kara was about to retort, when she noticed a bouquet of white roses in Chris’s hands. “Where did you-”

“Wait, more flowers? Chris you shouldn’t have. I told you I wasn’t mad about you not coming on the vacation with me.”

Chris side steps Kara and leans in to kiss your cheek.

Kara glances to Chris, then to you holding the flowers so dearly, admiring the beauty of the soft white petals. She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Mom would be proud.” Kara simply says, though part of her realizes it’s said with some contempt. The reason behind that can be thought of on another day.

“Let me go put these in water and we can go for lunch.”

Chris walks towards Kara, leaning against the wall watching MC as they walk happily to place the flowers with the other three bouquets.

“Really beautiful flowers. I honestly had no idea it was even Valentines Day I was just coming to ask them for lunch.” They smile to themselves, pleased with their good luck. Not only did they forget it was Valentine’s Day but in MC’s eyes Chris was more thoughtful than ever. The bouquets were not only a sign of a happy day, but also of an apology for not going on the vacation for the weekend. Yeah no dog house for them.

“How did you get them?” Kara asks, her eyes scanning Chris.

“Ran into Isaac outside. Said they had a delivery, I asked who for. Imagine my surprise when they said MC. Bet I can guess who they’re from.” Chris turns to Kara, a smug expression on their face. They don’t bother to hide their disgust when the name falls from their lips. Cam. “Cameron.” Chris clicked their tongue.

She doesn’t bother to correct Chris. Even if she did try Chris wouldn’t believe her. They always seem to think the worst of Cam. Regardless of what anyone else says. Chris had always been jealous of their relationship. So much so that it seemed they never considered that someone else may feel something for MC.

She doesn't bother to hide the look on her face when she sees Chris lead MC out of the office, or the feeling inside her gut. One she isn’t quite familiar with, one she isn’t willing to admit.

Kara takes the card out of her pocket and throws it into the bin. The handwritten words to be forgotten, not to see the light of day. Not to sit along the other handwritten cards she so painstakingly filled out earlier in the day. Along with the flowers she had chosen.

A card that simply reads, Happy Valentines Day. With Love, Kara.

#loveandleases #love and leases #kara #valentine's day #snippet #mc isn't the only one to spend it with a lovely woman!#divider by cafekitsune #uh oh chris makes an appearance

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dronebiscuitbat · 5 months ago

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Give me a Reason: Chapter 12- "Petals"

Uzi sat on the park bench scrolling through songs on her phone, the air around her was warm and humid, summer seemed to come faster every year and this year was no different. It was marginally cooler in Copper, the valley it resided in shielding it from the sun's rays most of the day, but not by much.

The park itself was nothing special, a small playground in the middle with a few covered seating areas around it, she was just on the outskirts, sitting under a dogwood tree that was spitting it's big, pink flower petals out at everyone who passed it. She'd already had to pick several out of her hair.

And at exactly 6:30pm. A dark grey BMW pulled into the parking lot, and Uzi looked up at it before looking back down at her phone.

N:I'm here! Where are you?

Nvm! I see you!

Uzi blinked, looking back at the fancy BMW that had just pulled in and sighing, oh so N's family had money, money. That made a bit of sense, though she was a little surprised he'd never mentioned it before.

She stood up, dusting herself of and trying to look as presentable as possible, suddenly feeling a little self conscious in her tank top and (currently open) jacket.

A tall woman with long brown hair and gorgeous emerald green eyes stepped out of the sedan, doing a once over of the park before the passenger door opened and out stepped N. A hoodie and jeans despite the temperature. (Though it's not like she had room to talk)

N pointed at her excitedly, which made her freeze for a moment before awkwardly smiling. Stepping up towards them a bit warily.

“Um, heeey?” Oh fuck everything, she was so awkward. Someone please come rescue her from this conversation.

“Hey Uzi! This is Tessa! The chef of the food you like so much!” She winced, they hadn't shared lunch that often, but being put on the spot so suddenly made her heart speed up and breath get caught in her throat.

“Oh-uh, it's nice to meet you. I guess.” She curled in a bit on herself, feeling more out of place then ever. She felt her face getting warm despite her efforts to stop it.

“Oooh, N didn't tell me his ‘partner' was the girl he met on the first day.” She side eyed N, a smirk growing on her face as she turned to him.

“You didn't lie to mom to go on a date did you little bro~?” She teased, earning a squeek as N turned an impressive shade of cherry red, something that seemed to also spread to Uzi, as she looked down to hide her own fluster.

It wasn't a date! It was an exhibition to gather data! No romantic undertones at all! Nothing romantic about hunting for ghosts!

“Tessa!” N seethed, being the first time Uzi had seen him look genuinely upset since she'd known him. “Its-Its not a date! And I didn't lie! She is my project partner!” He defended, fidgeting his hands.

“Riiiight, alrighty then. It's nice to meet you too Uzi, N was right, you are very pretty.” Tessa winked at her, and Uzi felt whatever oxygen she had escape in a tiny gasp as N looked like he was about to perish on the spot.

“I'll be back at ten sharp. Have fun you two!” Tessa waved them off, chuckling to herself at the way she embarrassed her younger brother before hopping back in the car. N was still stuck ramrod straight, face redder then beetroot.

There was a moment of very tense silence, before N cleared his throat, trying to calm down a little.

“Ah-uh… don't mind her, she likes to embarrass me…” He explained, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, smiling like a fool.

Uzi gave a half-laugh. “I-Its okay. She's your older sister, it's kinda her job right?” Her hands gripping onto the bottom fluff of her jacket as she also tried to coax the heat from her face.

Right. She just likes to embarrass him. He probably never said that about her…

“You are- you are though.” He murmured, looking down at his own feet to avoid looking anywhere near her.

Well that certainly didn't help calm her fluster.

“Oh… thank you?” She managed to get out before she had to look away, a dumb, smiley look on her face. She still didn't know how to take compliments, and this one made her heart feel all fluttery… for some reason.

“You have petals in your hair.” N said after a moment of awkwardly walking back to the bench she was at before. Pointing at the pink petals caught in her beanie and purple locks.

“Huh? Agh! Come on!” She shook her head and huffed, watching as a few petals floated down around her, crossing her arms.

“Uh… there's still… here.” He suddenly stepped incredibly close, hand brushing through her hair as he fished for the final stubborn flower, she almost wanted to yell at him for invading her personal space, instead all she could do was squeak and watch his arm like a mouse watching a cat.

The moment was over quickly. N pulling back with an intact pink flower in his hand, he was beaming, letting the flower float out of his hand and onto the ground gently.

“There! It really wanted to stay with you!” He giggled, fidgeting with his hands again.

Uzi blinked. Before figuratively slapping herself. Pulling herself put of whatever weird headspace she'd just fallen into and clearing her throat.

“T-thanks. Uh, you wanna start walking? The forest is thata-way.” She pointed forward through the park, past the fenced in area of it's well trimmed confines, the forest grew thick and untamed.

“Yeah! Let's go, I love doing anything!”

Next->

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #biscuitbites #nuzi #give me a reason #uzi meets tessa #n flirts accidentally

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 2 years ago

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the first valentines day you spend as a katsuki's partner, you decide to buy him flowers. he wasn't the biggest fan of sweets and if he did eat chocolate it was in small portions and dark chocolate bc of the bitter taste. he always called people who buy special presents of people just because of a dumb love holiday pansies bc you should be able to buy your partner gifts any day of the year regardless of the occasion. at least, if you got him flowers and he ended up hating them, throwing them out wouldn't be that big of a waste.

he comes into his agency early in the morning getting ready for patrol, and all is normal when he leaves. when he comes back from his rounds, his secretary informs him that there's a gift that's been delivered sitting on his desk. absolutely confused, he goes into his office, unlatching his gauntlets on the way so that when he steps into his workplace privacy, he can just drop them off his arms.

he stops in his office threshold bc there sitting on his desk was a small bouquet of apple blossoms, daisies, and one large healthy lily. katsuki wasn't that well-versed in flowers, but he knew that these definitely weren't in season.

making his way over to his desk, he noticed a small card with his name on it slotted into a small plastic holder among the blooms that he plucked out. he flopped himself down into his desk chair and began to read. there wasn't much aside from the floors he received, their meanings, and a short message in a neat script he didn't recognize.

Apple Blossoms- i prefer you before all Daisies- i love you truly Lily- my love is pure -Happy Valentines Katsuki! I hope these don't smell too sweet for you xoxo

the prohero glanced at the small desk calendar he sat on the corner of his workspace and then looked back at the bouquet. he called you not long after reading the small card and you sounded absolutely giddy when you picked up.

"did they get there alright?" you ask as he looks over the assortment for the umpteenth time. he hums in approval. "good, i was worried they'd wilt or something on the delivery route."

"you didn't have to you know."

"i wanted to. for all the hard work you do, you deserve a treat. plus, who doesn't like getting flowers from time to time, right?" you purposely left out the fact it was valentines day, even though you mentioned it in your note. still, he chuckled at your innate nature to be so damn cute.

he's quiet for a while and you're afraid they aren't exactly to his taste. then you heard his desk chair move before he's shuffling around for something in his desk drawer.

"katsuki?"

"clear your schedule tomorrow."

"i mean i can no problem, but what for?"

"because i said so, dummy."

you laugh at him and talk with him a bit more before you had to let him get back to his job. for the rest of his shift before his next patrol round, he spent a lot of time thumbing the soft petals of his flowers and rereading their meanings.

the next day when you make it over to his place like he said, you can't help but notice the familiar bouquet sitting in a beautiful vase you hadn't seen before on his kitchen island.

"glad you like them"

"you gave them to me. 'course i do"

hugging his back as he makes you dinner, you giggle to yourself at the backs of his ears and how red they are.

-x-x-x-

a/n: i just really wanted an excuse to write katsuki getting flowers and being kinda bashful abt it hehe - p.s. i didn't proofread this and flower meanings may not be accurate bc i didn't do any kind of extensive research soz

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #bakugou headcanons #bakugou scenarios #bakugou katsuki #bakugou valentines fic #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #boku mo hero academia #boku no hero academia bakugou #my hero academia bakugou #my hero academia

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anakin-pilled · 1 year ago

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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part three)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 9.4k

warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of EDs, body dysmorphia/body issues, fainting, mistreatment, hospitalization, crying, reader being emotional, anakin being a reckless driver, half proofread bc i got lazy (will probably edit another day, its late af as im posting this)

rating: 18+

author's note: hi, i'm so sorry for the delay on chapter three! life got really busy and i found myself not having enough time to write, but now life has settled and i finally had enough time and inspo to finish this chapter. i literally forced myself to stay home this weekend and finish this chapter bc i'll be traveling this week and won't have time to write. i hope i made up for it by making this chapter longer than usual!! let me know if u have any questions or comments. reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

creds to saradika for the divider!

You originally had no plans this weekend, but after much persuasion from one of your closest friends, you decided to attend some party that a friend of a friend was hosting. It was better than being locked up in your apartment all weekend, letting the thoughts of Anakin consume your mind and slowly pick away at your sanity. After all, it gave you the chance to dress up prettily, consume free hooch, and maybe find someone to get under and help you get over Anakin.

The water in your porcelain sonic tub was doused in a fragrant Crimson Jelly Spire oil and mixed with the fragile petals of a Jasmine flower. The combination of spice and sweetness left your skin refreshed and smelling good. The midday light of Corscant filtered through the windows and cast the nearly all-ivory refresher in an ethereal lighting. The water swished around you as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid the side of your cheek on top of them. You trained your eyes on the refresher’s ceilings before blowing a loose piece of hair out of your face. You ran this bath about an hour ago, but you had yet to get up because your mind was occupied by him. Staying away from Anakin was harder than you anticipated. Your mind recalled, for about the hundredth time today, two instances that happened over the last few rotations.

The first instance with Anakin left you unnerved and unconfident in your self-proclamation to stay away from him.

The benefit concert was only a few rotations away now, so you started practicing. Even though you were only performing songs that you already performed and rehearsed before, it still didn’t hurt to practice even more. This was going to be broadcast across the Republic, so you had to be perfect.

You holed yourself up in your practice room for the majority of the day. The only time you saw Anakin was in the morning when your protocol droid prepared breakfast. You told Anakin that you would be practicing with your team of dancers for the day, so there was no need for him to stay with you all day. You encouraged him to take the day off and reassured him that your practice suite was located in a safe building with 24/7 security watch. Anakin insisted that he at least drop you off. He could take the time to stop by the Temple and check in on Ahsoka’s training.

That was hours ago. It was nearing your twelfth hour of continuous practice and you were exhausted, to say the least. Your vocal cords felt raw from the amount of singing you did today, and the legs in your muscles were spasming from the constant repetition of your dancing. You dismissed your team members around two hours ago, you didn’t think they should be subjected to your perfectionist tendencies. One of them, a Pantoran girl named Chione, voiced her concern for you. Chione was one of your oldest dancers, she joined your team during your first mini-tour around a few Core planets and has never left your team since. You considered her one of your closest friends.

“Are you positive that you’re okay to practice on your own? You’ve barely had any food today. I don’t want you fainting with no one to help,” voiced Chione in a dulcet tone. She was always looking out for your well-being, especially because she knew how hard you could be on yourself. Chione was a source of bright life in your life and one of the most genuine people you’ve ever known.

“I’ll be fine, Chione. I had a heavy breakfast, and I’ve made sure to eat energy pudding bars and stay hydrated during our breaks,” you reassured your friend. She looked unconvinced, but you rushed her out of the room with a kiss on her cheek and a promise to send her a message once you arrived home.

Now that you had the studio to yourself, you decided to go through a few more drills and focus on the routines that you struggled with the most. You weren’t always a perfectionist. Back when you lived on Bar’leth, you were neither the smartest student in your grade nor the dumbest student–you were perfectly average. You didn’t feel the need to engage in your classmates’ cutthroat competition or push yourself more than you required. Even when it came to your musical prowess, you sang and studied instruments because you enjoyed it and it brought you happiness. If you were stuck on learning a certain composition or hitting the right note, you would always put in your best effort, but you never lost any sleep over it. You knew that if you were to put pressure on yourself, it would take the enjoyment away. Music was yours, without any strings, expectations, or attachments to soil your relationship with it.

That swiftly changed once you were signed a record deal with one of Coruscant’s most famous record labels, Interstellar Records. You didn’t even know it was possible to become famous at the intergalactic level. Most of the artists you listened to on Bar’leth were artists from your planet. The galaxy’s population is enormous–Coruscant alone has around three trillion people! You never imagined that your name would known anywhere besides Bar’leth. Yet, luck seemed to be on your side on that one fateful day.

The story of how you were discovered is quite simple. Your school hosted an annual festival for the anniversary of the formation of Bar’leth’s government. It’s a joyous holiday where students are encouraged to promote Bar’leth’s culture through food, traditional customs, and performances. Families and regular citizens flock to the school to join and watch the students at the festival. It’s a day you look forward to every year. Each class section is assigned to a particular event. The graduating class of that year is always assigned to open the festival with a choir rendition of Bar’leth’s national anthem. You were asked to lead the choir since the music instructor knew of your talent, which meant that you would be the main singer. Little did you know that one of the executives from Interstellar Records was at the school festival. One of his nephews attended your school, so that was his reason for being there. As soon as you got off the stage and the festivities started, you were immediately pulled to the side by your school’s headmaster who introduced you to the executive. He spoke to you about your talent, and how he believed that you could make something of yourself with proper training and a recording label to manage you.

That was five years ago, and a lot has changed since then. After finishing your last year of government-mandated education, you moved to Coruscant and began your career as a professional artist. Life suddenly flipped. Your upbringing on Bar’leth was humble. You came from a decent, middle-class family and lived in a standard home. Suddenly, you lived in a fancy Coruscant apartment with the former senator Sheev Palpatine, and you were always surrounded by a team of managers who dictated your schedule from morning to night. You were given vocal training, attended dance classes, and sat through etiquette and media training courses all while trying to produce your debut record. The first year of your career was marked by sleepless nights due to the sheer amount of activities on your daily agenda. Many times throughout the first year, you debated if this was a smart decision.

You continuously pushed yourself through it because dreams weren’t achieved by themselves. You had to work to make your dreams come true. This was just part of the process. At least that’s what you said to reason with your inner self to avoid any feelings of regret and anxiety. Yet, throughout that first year, you were also exposed to a darker side of the industry that you weren’t equipped to handle as a barely legal adult. When you signed that contract with the label, you also signed away any right to individuality and personal autonomy.

You had a certain image to uphold as a public figure and this image was controlled entirely by your label. You were like clay that they could bend at their will–constantly being prodded and

molded until you were nothing short of perfection. Your clothes were preselected each day, hair was only done in styles the label wanted, and pre-answered scripts were given for interviews. Worst of all, even your diet was dictated by the label. How much you ate, what you ate, and even when you ate was all at the discretion of the executives. They even went so far as to weigh you weekly to make sure you were staying on top of your weight. If you weren’t at their goal weight, they subjected you to intense periods of exercise. It was an abusive cycle that fundamentally altered your self-esteem. Slowly, you became a shell of the person you once were. You didn’t find enjoyment in your career anymore, something you were once so passionate and excited about. The harsh regime of your management extinguished that flame. All that mattered to you was if you were meeting your label’s expectations. You were consumed by the weight of their expectations. You drowned under their judgment, and each criticism was like a blaster shot straight to your heart. The executives weren’t satisfied no matter what you did. Practice hours went from a few hours of your day to half of your day. You slowly cut contact with your friends from home and lied to your family when they asked how you were doing. You couldn’t bear to tell them the truth. You were miserable.

Eventually, the constant overwork and abuse by the label became too much for your body to handle and one day you fainted in the middle of practice. The medic at the medcenter informed you that your body shut due to exhaustion and malnutrition. Due to you being one year away from being a legal adult by the Republic’s standards, the medic was forced to report this incident to the authorities. Holonet tabloids somehow got a hold of this information and leaked it on their celebrity gossip pages. This prompted an investigation from the Intergalactic Federation of Musicians, the trade guild dedicated to musicians, performers, and songwriters, who determined that your label was not properly upholding their side of the contract. The IFM fined Interstellar Records and voided your contract, which left you free and away from their abuse.

It took you a few months to recover from the whole incident. The best course of action was to move back to Bar’leth while you healed. Your career didn’t stop there, however. Right before the situation, your debut album was released. Hence, you were practicing for upcoming promotions the label scheduled you for. The release of your debut album was quiet–until your face ended up on the Holonet’s hot spot after the initial news broke. The people of Coruscant, and even some people from neighboring planets, pitied you. You never intended for anything to be this way, but the story that the tabloids ran against you worked in your favor. You, a young fresh-faced, and doe-eyed girl from a smaller Core planet, were a victim of the cruel entertainment industry. Everyone blamed the label, rightfully so, but the amount of support and influx of love from Coruscant’s citizens catapulted you into fame and stardom. The public wanted to see you win (until they didn’t). Other recording labels were knocking at your door, trying to get you to sign with their company You were hesitant, not wanting to experience the same trauma. Senator Palpatine offered his help in negotiating the contract bids as an apology for not noticing what you were going through before. After all, you were still living with him while you were still signed to Interstellar. You didn’t blame him as you hid your problems well. Regardless, it all worked out in the end as you were signed to a new label, under terms and conditions you saw fit. Four years have passed since you signed onto Nebula Music Group. Your fame instantaneously increased after signing with them. Gido was assigned your new manager, and you were extremely thankful for him because he played a major role in ensuring you were properly treated and supported by the label. Nebula Music Group had more trust and faith in you than Interstellar, so they allowed you more authority and creative liberties in the music-making process. Because of this, you could produce authentic, critically acclaimed, popular albums. Your last album, Last Words of a Shooting Star, broke a record with the highest sales of sound slugs in history for a female artist. You did mini tours around the inner and mid-Core planets. Despite your initial hardships, life was turning out better than you envisioned. You had a second chance at your dream. You liked to consider yourself fully healed from the situation, but that was far from the truth.

Take now for example.

In moments like this, when it’s only yourself and the mirror, your mind can’t help but flashback to the horrible treatment you suffered at the hands of those people. You know that no matter how much therapy or how far removed from the situation you were, a part of you was still stuck in the past.

Chione was right to be concerned. This wasn’t the first time you stayed behind and continued practicing on your own, often to the point of exhaustion and breaking down. She’s caught you in these moments before, where you were so focused on perfection that you failed to take care of yourself properly—staying dehydrated, skipping meals, and not sleeping just so you could devote more time to practice. You would gladly damage yourself for it. You couldn’t help it. Insecurity was embedded in your bones. You knew that as a young female in the industry, you had a short shelf life (or at least that’s what your previous label hammered into your brain). Once the industry deemed you expired, you would be nothing. Thus, you needed to be so perfect, that even past your expiration date, people would still want you. You were nothing without desirability.

You looked at yourself with hard eyes in the mirror. Your eyes landed on the deep, heavy-set eye bags under your eyes. A scowl appeared on your face. You then moved your eyes to your arms, which never seemed skinny enough for you. A knot formed in your throat. Lastly, you laid your eyes upon your stomach. No matter how many meals you skipped, what diet fads you went on, or what food you prematurely threw away to avoid finishing, your stomach never looked the way you wanted. A sigh escaped your throat.

It was futile to worry about these things now. At a time so late in the day, nothing good would come of it. You inhaled and exhaled breathing as if you were absorbing and releasing all of your previous negative energy. Putting on a fake smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gave yourself one last look before continuing to practice.

The song you were currently dancing to belonged to the glimmick genre–a genre of music that was associated with frenzied sounds and rapid beats. As an artist, you were most comfortable with the sparkle-bop and pop genres. That was your domain, and it was the genre that made you famous. However, you wanted you wanted to experiment on your recent album to get out of your artistic comfort zone and reach a wider audience, so you included songs of different genres, with glimmick being one of them. Due to the nature of the glimmick genre, your song “Atom of the Pneuma,” required an intricate, fast-paced dance with movements that you were not familiar with. The choreography for this dance was sharp and pristine, contorting and bending your body to resemble straight, angular lines. Most of your choreography featured lighter dance moves, with flowy movement and softer forms. It was the reason you stayed later than the rest of your team–you wanted to hone on this particular routine before the benefit concert.

Your legs were bent, hands placed on top of your thighs as you caught your breath and prepared to replay the song just a few more times before calling ending the day. You got into position. The song started and filled the room with a pounding, rich techno bass that bounced off the walls. You began to move your body to the beat while your right arm was simultaneously moving it to create a pattern that extended from your body outward. Your head followed the beat as well, which left you slightly dizzy. You learned to block out any negative sensations when dancing, a practice you learned from the days when you danced on little sleep and little food. The unpleasant sensation went ignored until you spun your body around and lost your balance resulting in an unceremonious fall toward the hard wooden floor. You placed your arms to cushion your fall out of reflex, but the fall never came. A pair of large, calloused hands were placed on your waist, holding you steady. The hands gently guided you toward the floor, forcing you to sit.

You raised your face toward the ceiling, trying to see who it was that miraculously saved you from your fall. The bright lights of the practice room invaded your eyesight and you could only make out the fuzzy outline of the person. Tiny, black dots swirled your vision as you tried to regain your composure. The feeling was overwhelming. You could feel your breath quicken as you tried to calm yourself. This wasn’t the first time you have fainted from overdoing it, but it was never any easier each time. You hated the feeling, you hated the coldness that washed over your body, you hated how your vision failed you, and you hated the dull panging inside your head.

You shut your eyes, barely focusing on the person next to you. Your nails dug into your palm, the pain distracting you from the uncomfortable feeling and forcing you back into the present. After a few more moments, you opened your eyes again and turned your vision to the only other figure in the room. You could feel the warmth of their body next to yours–the warmth overpowering the previous coldness your body felt.

“Anakin,” you whispered.

“You okay there, pop star?” Anakin softly replied. “You almost took a nasty fall, you could have sprained your wrist or hurt your head. We wouldn’t want that before the big day, now would we?”

His brown curls gently caressed his face as he looked down at you. He was kneeling over you, eyes scanning over your body to make sure you were okay. You didn’t even hear him enter. How did he get inside? Access to this room was only allowed by people with logged fingerprints and/or other DNA indicators.

“Just give me a minute please.” You still felt lightheaded.

Anakin stood up and walked toward your practice bag and grabbed the container of water that was sitting next to it. He then proceeded toward you, sat next to you, and put the tip of the container to your lips. You titled your head back as you drank. After a couple of gulps, you answered Anakin’s question.

“I apologize if I frightened you. I must have overdone it and got lightheaded because of it. I assure you that I feel better now and can continue my practice,” You tried to stand up before Anakin’s hand caught your wrist and dragged you back toward the ground. Your response was cold and robotic. That’s because you were in a different mode right now, your more “professional” mode which consisted of one thing only–to never give up until you were blue in the fact. It was ingrained in you from your past training that even if you felt like complete bantha shit, you couldn’t stop practicing just because you felt slightly off. Perfection could never be achieved if you stopped every single time you felt bad.

“Just take a moment to relax. You nearly fainted. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you continue to practice in this state,” Anakin reasoned. He pitied you because he knew the exact look of determination on your face.

“I can’t stop. The benefit is only a few rotations from now. I have to get this routine down, or else I’ll look like a fool on stage,” you argued back. You turned, but Anakin kept a firm hold on your wrist.

“Stop being stubborn and just take a quick break.” The seriousness in Anakin’s tone made you want to cry. His voice projected across the now silent practice room. You were already feeling bad from almost fainting and now you were being emotional too. You slipped to the ground and hung your head low as tears welled up in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice wavered. Putting in this state always puts you in a weird headspace. You swallowed the tight knot that formed in your throat. You didn’t want to cry in front of Anakin.

Anakin noticed the waver of your voice and how you refused to meet his eyes. He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so harsh, but he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either.

“It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean for my voice to sound that way,” Anakin hesitated before putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort. He felt slightly awkward. He didn’t know you very well yet, so he didn’t want to invade your personal space, but he recognized that you needed some comfort.

“You should leave. You don’t have to deal with me. I know the Chancellor asked you to watch over me, but this is too much. I promise I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened.” You don’t know why you let that small detail split to Anakin. Perhaps you just wanted someone else to know that you weren’t fully healed from your past. You tried to do your best to hide it from the rest of your team, only Chione being the most knowledgeable on the subject.

“I’m not going to leave you. It’s late and you should be heading back to your apartment. I came to pick you up. Gido said you hadn’t arrived home yet and that I could find you here.”

You sighed at Anakin’s response. There were a few moments of silence before you began speaking again. “I’m sorry. You’re just being a decent person, and I’m here trying to push you away. I don’t mean it.” You took a deep breath, “I just get in a weird headspace whenever I’m practicing sometimes.”

Anakin didn’t want to pry, but he could tell there was a deeper meaning behind your words.

You started speaking before your brain could even comprehend what you were saying. You were desperate to let out all of your negative feelings. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough sometimes? Like the whole world is waiting for you to trip and fall?” You glanced at Anakin with glassy eyes.

You continued to tirade. “I know my life may look glamorous, and it is. But no one ever talks about the dark side of being in the public eye, especially as a female. They treat you as if you’re some spectacle for their entertainment as if you’re not a living being with consciousness and feelings. Even those who are supposed to be there for you end up on the same side as the critics and haters.” Your chest was now heaving up and down as a result of your heightened emotion. “Even when I work my ass off to be perfect, so I can meet their standards and so they can finally shut the kriff up, they find another thing to comment on just to tear me down.”

“Yes, I understand the feeling.” And Anakin truly did understand. Anakin wanted to comfort you, he felt empathetic as he watched you cry. Do you remember how I told you how I joined the Jedi at a later age than most?” You nodded as you sniffled. “The Jedi council didn’t want to take me in at first…but Qui-Gon convinced them to take me in because he saw potential in me, potential as the Chosen one. Master Qui-Gon died before he had the chance to train me, so his Padawan, my former master, requested that he take me up as his Padawan. No Padawan had ever been trained at such a young age, but the council accepted his wish as a dying request from Qui-Gon.” Anakin still recalls that day–he was waiting outside the council’s room–in wonder at the grand pillars of the Jedi Temple. It was so grandiose and had a sense of holiness, two things he never witnessed on Tatooine.

“I had to work twice as hard as the other younglings to get up to speed. Most of them already had years of experience with the Jedi, they knew how to properly wield the force and the Jedi scriptures were ingrained into their beings by that point. Eventually, I surpassed the younglings and surpassed the expectations of the council. But even then, the council has never fully trusted me. I feel they’re always scrutinizing me, watching for my next mistake too. I’m not the most conventional Jedi, and I don’t always play by the books, but I’m a Jedi through and thorough. No matter how many times I prove that the council, or even my former master, they don’t believe in me. We’ve been fighting this war for Maker knows how long, and they still refuse to make me master, despite being the poster boy for this war.”

“Wow, Anakin…I didn’t expect that from you.” You honestly didn’t expect to find yourself relating to Anakin, you were on completely different sides of society. How could you, a pop star, relate to a Jedi? It comforted you in a way, to know that you weren’t the only person to go through feelings of inadequacy and frustration. “How do you deal with it?”

“When I was a Padawan in training, I didn’t deal with it most healthily. I was snarky (he still is), and rebelled against my master’s teachings. I was stubborn, hoping that if I showed off my power, I could finally be appreciated by the council. I was wrong to do that, it’s how I lost my right arm.” Anakin then slipped off his glove to show you the silver mechanical prosthetic. You gasped, not expecting to learn this information. Anakin continued, “I still like to show off, but as I matured, I realized that I didn’t have to define myself by the approval of others. I know that I am capable, and I will keep working hard until the council recognizes that.”

“You don’t deserve that. I know we only just met, but I’ve only heard remarkable things about you. The Republic wouldn’t stand a chance against the Separatists against you. I mean no offense to the other Jedi, they’re all vital to the war effort too, but we need someone who takes risks and isn’t afraid to be unorthodox. I don’t know much about the Jedi, but I know one day you’ll make a great Master.”

This heart-to-heart chat with Anakin was unexpected but welcomed. You appreciated that he was honest and open with you–someone who was practically a stranger still. He didn’t have to come all this way to pick you up nor did Anakin need to comfort you in an hour of need, but he did. However, Anakin didn’t let the conversation marinate too long, suddenly embarrassed at the information he shared with you.

Anakin stood up from the ground and reached his hand toward you. You accepted his hand and Anakin pulled you up as well. “Are you feeling better now?”

Despite the dried tear marks on your face and the incoming headache you were about to face, you told Anakin that you did feel better. You weren’t ready to divulge your entire past with Anakin just yet, but maybe one day the two of you could become friends. Did that count as an attachment? You weren’t sure.

“Let’s get you home, pop star.”

“Thanks, General.”

The second instance with Anakin was in an unconventional situation, but it brought a smile to your face when you recalled it. It was only the fifth day of him being assigned as your bodyguard. The incident at the practice room happened on his third day there. You wanted to speak to him more after that night, but you found yourself pulled in all directions by your management team. You supposed you should be thankful–you promised to stay away from Anakin. The only issue is that you didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.

Anakin walked into your living room after talking with Obi-Wan through his commlink. Obi-Wan was updating Anakin on his most recent diplomatic mission on a nearby planet. A heated conversation was taking place between you and Gido.

“You’re being ridiculous! It’s not even that scary and you can’t keep on relying on others to transport you places,” Gido said as he pinched his nose with a hand, a look of frustration on his face.

“Of course I can! I’m rich. I can just hire chauffeurs!” you taunted in reply. You knew your argument wasn’t sound, but you just wanted to vex Gido at this point. Deep down, you knew your manager was right.

“What about when you’re old and retired? Who’s going to help you then? Certainly not I. I’ll be dead!” He pointed an accusatory finger at you.

A glare embraced your face at Gido’s words. You scoffed before turning your body, not realizing that Anakin entered the room. He had to stop sneaking in like that. Those damn Jedi.

Anakin looked at you two with a curious look. Having joined the conversation toward its end, Anakin did not know what you two were talking about. Heat ran up your neck and toward your face as Gido explained with a deadpan expression.

“My dear friend here does not have her Republic driving license, despite being an adult. I’ve been telling her to get her license for years, but she always manages to procrastinate. And every time I tell her, she brushes me off her shoulder.” He pointed at you with an accusing thumb.

With a high-pitched tone, you defended yourself, “I know how to drive!... Sort of. Look, I just don’t like driving. The skylanes are always chaotic and the last time I visited the Ministry of Transport, it took me hours to update my identification and the workers were extremely rude. I’m not going back there if I don’t have to!”

“And I keep telling her, she needs to get her license. Kid, don’t be stubborn. Wouldn’t you feel more independent if you could drive around yourself?”

“Oh, stop bullshitting me, Gido. You just don’t want to drive me around because you hate the sky lanes as much as I do!” It was true. Gido groaned and mumbled every time he had to drive you places, complaining that he wouldn’t need to take you to run your errands if you had your own license. You couldn’t help it–you enjoyed dragging Gido along and you knew he secretly enjoyed spending time with you.

Anakin had a solution to both of your problems. Driving was one of his fortes. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would disagree, but Anakin knew he was the best pilot in the galaxy. Yes, Anakin could be reckless, but there was never a landing or move he couldn’t pull off. The innate talent he had as a young boy flourished when he moved to Coruscant and began his Padawan training. Having access to much more refined and newer technology allowed Anakin to perfect the craft of piloting.

“I can teach you how to drive. I’m the best pilot in the galaxy.” The seriousness on Anakin’s face indicated that he wasn’t joking.

You gulped. The heating sensation returned. You began to shake your head from side to side with wide eyes. Your hands moved in front of you as if to mimic the movement of your head, waving off Anakin’s solution.

“I don’t think that necessary,” you protested.

“Actually, I think it’s very necessary. Only the Maker knows how long you’ll push this off. Anakin, would you mind doing this favor? I have a few meetings with the company, we need to finalize the last details for the benefit. Feel free to use her airspeeder parked outside–it’s one of the newest models,” Gido stated.

Anakin grinned. He really did miss his yellow Eta-2 Starfighter, but he would never deny the chance to operate new technology.

That’s how you found yourself outside sitting in a neatly parked J12 Twin-pod on your apartment’s landing platform. The airspeeder belonged to you, though you’d never driven it before. The airspeeder was one of the newer models on the market. The surface was wrapped with a special pink-tinted chrome wrap making the car look sleek and expensive. Gido, your chauffeur, and occasionally Chione, were the only people to ever drive it.

You looked out the window and saw Anakin approaching the passenger side of the airspeeder. “Karking hell, I’m really doing this,” you thought. You detested driving. It made your palms sweaty and shot your nervous system. To make matters worse, you would be stuck in the confined airspeeder with Anakin! So much for trying to keep your proximity from him. You were both scared and embarrassed. Here was Anakin, the most famous Jedi at the moment, teaching pathetic you how to properly drive. Surely he had much better, more important things to do–like lead a war planning meeting or something.

The passenger door opened, and Anakin effortlessly climbed into the passenger seat and sat down. Your back stiffened, and suddenly the airspeeder seemed tighter. You shot an uneasy glance toward Anakin, who only smiled in excitement.

After the other night in the dance room where you had that conversation with Anakin, you felt less apprehensive around him. He was more human to you and less of a mysterious figure, less of a pretty face who made you nervous. You still found yourself mousy and internally reeling in his presence, but Anakin was becoming akin to a friend. You started conversing more during mealtimes, slowly getting to know each other.

“Alright, pop star, first we’re going to start with the controls. You have to fire up the engine by flipping this red switch. After the flip is switched, check your mirrors to ensure you can view directly behind and on your sides. Be careful with your blind spots. You don’t want to get rear-ended because you forgot to check for it. Coruscant sky lanes are no joke. With an airspeeder as pretty as yours, I’d hate to see it get destroyed. ” Anakin pointed toward a red button near the right side of the console, located next to the steering gear. “You got that?” Anakin questioned with one eyebrow raised.

Once again, Anakin felt your energy through the force. It was way calmer compared to the first day, but he could still feel your energy buzzing. Perhaps you realized that his presence was nothing to fear.

“Go on. Turn it on,” Anakin commanded. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you heard the baritone voice command you. It reverberated several times in your head. Anakin’s voice was manly, and extremely attractive. You felt jealous that his soldiers got to hear that voice every day.

You reached toward the switch and flipped it upward with a shaky hand. The airspeeder lit up from inside, indicating it had come to life. There wasn’t an initial turbo–this was one of the main features of this model. It was supposed to fly seamlessly through the air. You placed your hands on each side of the steering gears. Not knowing what to do next, you looked at Anakin for guidance.

Anakin stood up to stand directly behind you. He reached out his arms and placed his hands on top of yours. He then leaned down to the side of your face and explained, “I’m going to show you how you properly place your hands on the steering gear and how to move it while you’re driving.” Anakin moved your hands toward the middle of the gear.

“Have a tight grip on the gear. The tighter the grip, the more control you have over the speeder. The higher sky lanes get more wind traction, so it’s especially important to have control in those lanes.” You nodded to show you were following. Anakin suddenly turned the gear harshly to the left, “Don’t do what I just did. When you turn the gear harshly, you jerk the speeder. If you’re switching lanes or turning a corner, switch on your indicators so other drivers know which way you’re going.” Of course, Anakin never followed his own advice, but for your sake, he played it by the books.

It all felt too intimate. Your head was in a rush, which probably wasn’t the best state to be in while you were about to drive. Anakin’s hands engulfed yours. The difference between his callused hands and your perfectly manicured hands drove you crazy. You could see the veins exposed on his ungloved hand. The sight of the green veins made your stomach turn warm. Much like his face, Anakin’s hand was sculpted by the Maker themself. Not even the finest marble statues could compare to the piece of art that was Anakin Skywalker.

“...Lastly, when you’re making a turn, do not turn the gear all the way around. The speeder has a built-in function that automatically rotates it. If you turn it all the way, you’ll make a sharp turn, ruining the internal tachyon drive regulator. Do you think you can handle this? Gido told me about the last time you tried to drive.” The last time you tried to drive, it resulted in several fines and almost caused a crash–the tabloids were on your ass for weeks after that.

You completely spaced out while Anakin was speaking, too focused on your inner thoughts. Hearing the teasing tone of his voice brought you back. You hated being undermined. You would prove to Anakin, and Gido, that you can drive perfectly fine and that you have nothing to be scared of.

“I can you assure that not only can I handle this, but you’ll be amazed at how quickly I learn,” you sassed Anakin back. You were lying. You couldn’t handle this, yet you couldn’t look like a ditz in front of Anakin.

“Let’s start flying. Don’t be nervous. I’m right here if you need me.”

Anakin sat back in his seat and observed you as you started maneuvering the aircraft. He directed you toward a sky lane to merge into. “I’m going to guide you to a specific path where the air traffic isn’t so busy. It should be easier for you to fly since there isn’t as much chaos.”

You kept a strong grip on the steering gear. Coruscant Prime, Coruscant’s only sun, was shining bright. The Weather Control Network did a splendid job at keeping Coruscant’s weather optical today–it wasn’t too windy and the sky was clear. You took it as a positive sign.

The airspeeder flew steadily through the air. Anakin was surprised. The way Gido described your driving, he assumed that he would need to take control of the speeder earlier. You weren’t doing a terrible job so far. Aside from the occasional jerk or harsh turn, you managed not to crash so far.

Maybe Anakin thought too soon. “Watch out! Watch out to your right!,” Anakin exclaimed. You tried switching lanes, but the speeder behind you wasn’t slowing down to let you in. You narrowly avoided an accident at the last second by going back into your lane.

“Oops–I didn’t mean that,” you said with a giggle and a shrug of your shoulders. “How am I doing so far?”

“You’re not doing too bad, with some more practice, you should be able to get your license in no time. Why do you hate driving so much?”

While still focusing on the sky in front of you, you explained to Anakin, “I love Coruscant and all that it has to offer. But the sky lanes in Bar’leth are much calmer and less congested. I grew up used to that. Even after all these years of living here, I still can’t stomach the driving here. It’s horrendous! I much prefer to have someone else drive, that way the pressure won’t be on me. I know Gido’s right, I need my license, but can you blame me? We’ve already witnessed almost two accidents! How did you get so good at flying?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a pilot since I was a little boy. I used to tinker in the garage, building and modifying parts for my own podracer. I even won the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine,” answered Anakin.

“Why did you want to become a pilot?” you wondered. Anakin seemed like like an intentional type of person–his actions, thoughts, and opinions were direct reflections of him and what he felt inside.

Not many people outside of the Jedi temple knew Anakin’s true origins–that he was a former slave. The first ten years of his life were filtered solely through this lens, it came to impact much of his opinions on life, politics, and society. He didn’t like speaking about it and avoided the topic as much as he could. Anakin hated his life as a slave and he hated slavery with every fibre of his being. However, Anakin especially hated speaking about this past life now because every time he did, he was reminded of how he willingly chose to leave his mother on Tatooine. Anakin felt like he was the reason she died. He wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to save her from the Tuskens, but maybe, just maybe, if he stayed with his mother instead of leaving with Qui-Gon, Shmi Skywalker’s death could have been avoided.

Anakin didn’t respond to your question. When you looked at him, his face was scrunched up in a deep thought.

You were about to say something else when you saw something approaching the speeder from the corner of your eye. You quickly glanced to your left, only to spot a human male nearly hanging off the side of his airspeeder with a cam held up to his eye. You groaned out loud which caught Anakin’s attention. They came at the worst time possible. You were trying to learn how to drive for Kriff’s sake!

“The paparazzi are following! Can’t they just leave me alone” you ranted. You needed them to get off your trail, fast. You had a complex relationship with the paparazzi. You hated the way they invaded your privacy and fed the Holonet tabloids with material to gossip about. For every bad picture, outrageous rumor, and leaked news, there was a paparazzi behind it. They caused you so much pain. At the same time, the very nature of your career relied on the paparazzi to dispel news and reveal your current state of affairs through pictures. They were unofficial members of your public relations team. Every celebrity knew that they needed the paparazzi as much as they hated them. You couldn’t imagine what ridiculous headline they would come up with now.

The man got closer and closer to your speeder as he tried to record you on his cam. He was mere inches away from crashing into the side of your speeder. You started to panic and your hands lost your tight grip as you started to tremble. Even the slightest movement to the left would cause a crash, potentially sending both of your speeders tumbling below.

“Anakin, what do I do? I don’t know what to do! They’re too close,” you yelped. Any closer and the paparazzi’s camera would touch your speeder’s window.

“Stay calm, pop star. I got this.” Anakin’s tone was cocky. He had something up his sleeve. This wasn’t his first high-speed chase, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. Anakin switched into General mode. His hands swiftly moved across the dashboard as he pressed a multitude of buttons and flipped several switches.

“What are you doing?!” You hated how high-pitched your voice sounded, the fear slipping out of your voice a squeak.

“Relax. I’m just taking control of the speeder. This speeder model is programmed so that in case of emergencies, the co-passager can take control of the speeder and drive it.” A panel opened on the console and an additional steering gear emerged into view. Anakin gripped the gear and turned it to the right. The speeder lurched to the right, putting more distance between you and the paparazzi.

No longer needed to grip the gear, you turned toward Anakin and shielded yourself by facing your back toward the window. The Holo Net wouldn’t be getting anything out of you today. Those insatiable nerfhurders had no boundaries sometimes.

“You better hold on tight. Things are about to get bumpy.” The only way to get these paparazzi off your trail was by speeding up and losing them in the endless zigzags of Coruscant. Anakin wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety. He felt his fingertips buzzing with anticipation–the past few rotations with you have been enjoyable and peaceful, but he needed an outlet for his energy. Ever since the Clone Wars started, Anakin was constantly on the go, so his body and mind were accustomed to this. Fortunately for Anakin, flying was the best outlet for him.

“What do you mean? Anakin, I’m begging you. Please don’t do anything crazy. I get motion sick-” Your words were cut off as the speeder accelerated. “ANAKIN!!!,” you screamed. You then quickly shut your eyes again. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene in front of you. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Anakin was driving significantly faster than what was allowed by the law.

The speeder weaved in and out of lanes. At one point, Anakin squeezed in between two speeders before hitting the turbo boosters. The paparazzi were still hot on your trail, but at least they were no longer directly next to you. You finally opened your eyes and saw that you were nearing the retail district, CoCo Town. Suddenly, the speeder nosedived toward the ground and you tightly clung to the gear in front of you for stability. The paparazzi were still chasing you, their speeder also diving below.

“Anakin do you have to be so reckless?!,” you shouted as Anakin laughed.

“My apologies–it was either that or let the paparazzi stalk you. Which one did you prefer? I didn’t have time to ask while you were panicking,” he replied in a sarcastic tone. You were about to rebuttal, but Anakin continued talking. “As soon as I land this on the ground, we’re going to get out and run. Let’s try to lose them in the crowd.”

The speeder lowered onto the ground and Anakin quickly parked the vehicle on a landing platform where several other speeders were parked. The doors unlocked and you both quickly stepped out. Before you could even completely step off, Anakin grabbed you by your waist and lowered you onto the ground. He then grabbed your hand and started running in the opposite direction of the speeder. You looked behind you, only to see the paparazzi had caught up and were now looking for you. After a quick scan, one of their eyes caught yours and they looked toward each other before running in the same direction as you and Anakin.

You could barely think about the paparazzi chasing you down as your mind relished the feeling of Anakin’s hands engulfing your waist. Anakin was a statuesque man, it made sense that his hands would be the same. Your skin burned at the touch. You shook your head to wane off the thoughts and redirect your focus in front of you.

Anakin’s back was facing you, his wide shoulders moving up and down as you ran through the crowds together. His curls bounced with each step. You apologized to each person you bumped into, slightly embarrassed to be in a situation like this. Why did this have to happen to you? Couldn’t they have picked another celebrity to torment today? You heard from the jogan fruit vine that the Holodrama actress Alexis Cov-Prim was getting out of rehab today. Wouldn’t that be a juicer headline than you learning how to drive? You already had one bad story from driving, you didn’t need another.

Anakin made a sharp turn around and corner and dragged you into a store named “Madame Acantha’s Emporium.” You kept your head low as Anakin greeted the storekeeper. You didn’t want to risk being recognized again. As you looked around and observed the store, you noticed the store sold a variety of womenswear from dresses to accessories. Anakin scanned the store for any suspicious figures before turning towards you.

“Grab something to disguise yourself with. We can’t stay in here forever.” You started browsing through the racks of clothes, pulling out a large knitted sweater before walking over to the accessory area and picking out a pair of daytime spectacles and a vibrant magenta wig with a bob cut. Anakin couldn’t disguise himself as he was too big for the clothing sold here. That didn’t matter as long as you could disguise yourself.

You quickly walked over to the changing rooms before switching out your outer layer for the sweater. After putting on the sweater, you grabbed the only elastic on your wrist and tied your hair so the wig could fit on. Once the wig was secured on your head, you put on the daytime spectacles and walked out of the changing rooms. You rushed towards the cashier and quickly asked her to ring up the transaction before throwing your credit chip on the counter. The employee, a humanoid woman of a species you couldn’t name, quickly rang up the transaction before handing you a receipt and bidding you a good day.

You turned towards Anakin and asked, “Does this look alright? Do I look like myself?”

Anakin stepped closer to you and grabbed the sides of your face. He slipped some of the wig’s hair through his fingers before adjusting it so it sat properly on your head. His fingers lingered for a second before he nodded. “I can’t even recognize you. Let’s go before they catch up.”

Anakin walked out of the store first and scoped the street. He looked left and right before quickly going back inside. He grabbed you and shoved the both of you behind the first rack of clothes he saw. You were about to protest when you saw the two men from earlier, the one who was recording had his camera by his side. They went up to the shopkeeper at the cashier and began to converse with the lady, most likely asking her if she had seen anyone with the same description as you. While they were distracted, you and Anakin looked at each other and secretly decided to make a run for it.

You both ran out of the store and into an alleyway nearby. You saw the paparazzi running past the alleyway as you were catching your breath. Then, you started to giggle. The whole situation was absurd. You, standing in an alleyway, with a bright wig and sunglasses–obviously a terrible disguise–and Anakin Skywalker, the most famous Jedi at the moment, dressed in all of his Jedi garb with his lightsaber attached at the hilt.

“What are you laughing at?,” Anakin asked, one of his perfectly shaped eyes arched. You must have looked crazy.

“I’m laughing at the situation. I look like a clown,” you replied. “Let’s go, I’m hungry after all that running and chasing. Let’s get something to eat–my treat.” You then walked out of the alleyway together. Before you stepped into the public view, you turned towards Anakin, “Thank you, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done without you to save the day.” You gave Anakin a look of genuine gratefulness.

The both of you proceeded in the direction of the shops.

“Come on, pop star. I know a great diner that my old master loves. It’s called Dex’s Diner. Have you ever been there before?” Anakin asked.

The both of you arrived at Dex’s Diner and proceeded to order half the menu. You spent hours in the diner, the both of you enjoying each other’s company after the crazy events of the day.

You spent the same evening replaying all of the times Anakin touched you and how each touch made you feel.

You decided it was time to get out of your head and back into the present. If you stayed in the sonic tub any longer, you wouldn’t have enough time to get ready without feeling rushed. You stood up from the sonic tub and grabbed the plush white robe sitting on the table next to it. You then put the robe on and walked toward the mirror.

You grabbed the brush and started brushing through your hair to ensure that any tangles and knots were out. After deciding your hair was neat enough, you put the brush down and started moisturizing your body with your favorite lotion. You would let your hair air dry until you figured out how you wanted to style it. The lotion was made from the musk-rose plant and mixed with tiny hints of vanilla. When you were done moisturizing your body and applying your skincare, you walked out of the room and into the closet directly in front of the refresher.

To say your closet was huge is an understatement. When you finally earned enough credits to afford a high-rise apartment, the one thing you told your realtor was that you would not compromise on a small closet. The closet was lined with shelves and racks, each holding either your clothes or your shoes. In the middle of the closet sat an island, constructed with cream-yellow Selonian marble, that stored all of your accessories. A floor-to-ceiling mirror and lounging chaise were perched at the far corner of the room. You walked over to the shelf that held your dresses and began to sift through them. You felt the soft silks, thin taffetas, and the gorgeous gemwebs of your collection.

“Aha,” you muttered as your hand finally landed on the gown you were looking for. The gown, designed by one of the most in-demand fashion ateliers, was a floor-length, demicot silk-lined tight velvet black gown with a curved necklace. The upper half of the gown was pale pink and covered in a multitude of tiny sequins and pearl studs. One shoulder extended out into the shape of a single petal, which was also fabricated with sequins and pearls. You paired it with a pair of black gloves that extended to your mid-bicep. The dress was as much haute as it was a piece of wearable art. If there was one thing you loved about being wealthy, it was the clothes.

You laid your evening gown on the chaise before traveling to your vanity and beginning on your makeup. Since the gown was extravagant in itself, you decided that a more subtle makeup look would complement the overall look more. You wanted people to focus on the gown and all its intricacies and craftsmanship. After glossing your lips with a matching shade of pink, you finished your makeup and moved on to your hair. You settled on a suitable hairstyle and allowed your loose face-framing layers to enhance the shape of your face.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more before deciding you were ready to go. You walked out of your room and towards the living where Anakin was waiting for you.

To be continued...

(Here is a link to the dress, which was designed by Miss Sohee. One thing I love about the SW universe is the fashion, so I wanted to include a dress that reflected that. Like, come on. Have you seen Padme’s and Satine’s outfits?)

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

#kendra's works !!!#anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars anakin #star wars #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #tcw anakin #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalkwer x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you

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that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main · 1 year ago

Text

Blood Upon the Snow| Dagda (part 2)

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Readers: female

Notes: man I reached the block limit again, be excited for part 3 yay, lets thank @fangirlingatstuff again for infecting me with the Epic fandom once again, and @majestichugs for waiting so long

Warnings: weapons, fighting, murder (throat slitting by thy enemy), blood, blood drinking mentions (by thy enemy), cursing, bro people really got beat up here

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Y/n was awoken the next morning, Nod shaking her.

"y/n! hey!" He argued.

"Mhm,"

"Don't mhm, me!" Nod complained; "There's a shit show happening!"

Finally, he got her to open her eyes, and his face of concern woke her up fully, castle works at the end of the bed waiting with things in their arms, "Nod, what's the problem-"

"Royals are showing up!"

"What!?"

"Come on! Get up!"

Y/n was quick to get out of bed, Nod handing her a cup of tea, "How long do I have?"

And down the tea went, she leans her head back as she chugged,

"Fashionably late? Fifteen Minutes? If you take any more than thirty you better, look good."

Y/n swallowed the last bit, handing the cup to Nod, "Stall for me?'

"Always do, Finn will be ready for you when you're dressed." Nod informed, quickly taking the cup away.

"Thank you!" Y/n called to him as he left, "Love you!"

"I know!"

Y/n rolled her eyes with a chuckle as her attention was quickly stolen, "Which one Princess?"

"What is the Queen wearing?'

"the usual,"

Y/n looked at the two, displeased with the bright color, "Get me the one that's white and green like hers, but with the lily petals and the moss shawl please, don't forget the fern choker and arm bands."

The ladies dropped their dresses almost; "Princess...that is..."

"Bold."

Y/n looked at them; "Really?"

"We love it!" They answered, "We'd like to add something to it if you'd allow it."

Y/n nodded "Of course, I trust your judgement,"

They nodded to one another; almost as if they read each other's minds, and one dragged her to her vanity, while the other rushed off to grab the clothing.

"If I may be so rude-"

"I live for rude," Y/n joked as the woman laughed and held a smile.

"Is there someone we're dressing up for? I am surprised you did not go for a long coat and a pair of pants,"

Y/n looked at the woman in the mirror who was doing her hair as quickly as she could; "I'm not sure,"

The woman gave a small smile as she pulled half of Y/n's hair up into a bun, carefully sticking delicate glass-blown hair decorations, a combination of flowers and plants, and to her request little bugs, spiders, centipedes, and bees.

Soon in came the woman from before with the dress and jewelry; in a hand, she held a delicately crafted dagger.

"Oh, my princess I'm certain you'll love this!"

"If you are to accept, you must go today," Ayana spoke, "the Celebration is tomorrow,"

Mandrake sighed, his brain had racked all night and well into the day, "Am I just to walk into Moonhaven?"

"I'm sure Dagda would,"

"That is not much help,"

Ayana picked up a bowl, "What is that?"

"The future," She answered picking up a gourd, carefully funneling whatever it was into it from its bowl.

"If you know the future you know my answer," Mandrake spoke, "and you know my concerns."

Ayana was silent; "But your answer still remains."

Mandrake was silent this time, he watched his sister work, till he growled, and rose to his feet, quick to leave, "Where are you going!?" She shouted sarcastically.

"Shut up!" He shouted back as she chuckled, oh, what a loving thing it is to have a brother.

From his sister's place to his castle, he hopped off his bird, guards standing attention quickly with salutes and bows of the head.

"My son, where is he?" Mandrake asked a guard.

"The library my king,"

Mandrake made his way along the dark halls and ashy walls, Dagda was indeed in the library, the librarian's son with him, stacks of books and scrolls in his hand.

"yes but the history goes much farther back than that," he informed, "it also depends on what information of our history we are exactly looking for,"

The son set the books on the table; "that would interest a wander," Dagda commented.

"A wander? Well, my Prince maybe the Walkers would be the most interesting,"

"The Child's story about plants that go between the kingdoms?"

"Children's tales are often told by Wanders, they tell of our history within a lesson,"

The two turned their head at the sound of Mandrake's voice.

"King Mandrake," The boy bowed.

"I need to speak to my son,"

"Of course,"

The librarian's son bowed his head once again and left quickly; "I'm busy-"

"Sure you are," Mandrake commented, looking at the sets of scrolls Dagda had help pulling from the Shelves; "I have never seen you in here,"

Mandrake looked at his fingertips, a thin layer of dust covering the causing him to rub them together to get rid of such dust.

"It piqued my interest,"

"Piqued your interest?" Mandrake commented, "or did Princess Y/n mention history?"

Dagda was silent; "Maybe,"

Mandrake could only chuckle; he remembered this library all too well; there was a bookshelf that was fake, and in there was a back room; with a single window, it most likely now filled with cobwebs and whatever lurks in the deep dark. He and Winslet use to take from the library and read together.

"I have been thinking about Princess Y/n's proposal," Mandrake commented.

"You have?" Dagda asked excitedly.

"We will agree to it," Mandrake answered, and before Dagda could get excited; "We will be cautious, it is not only Moonhaven we will have to worry about, we ride for Moonhaven before the end of the hour."

Dagda nodded, "You will not regret this!"

Mandrake watched him rush off, "Ah the youth,"

Mandrake turned his head, an old Boggin; he had been the Librarian since Mandrake was little; "Bookkeeper Garel,"

"I remember when you use to run in here with your little girlfriend," Garel laughed, coming to the scrolls on the table and grabbing a few, and shuffling to put them back.

"I will make Dagda clean up his mess,"

"Eh," Garel waved off the man; "make's my day go by faster, not to mention Lilith likes him,"

"you're son?"

"Grandson, practically my son," Garel responded, "I can't keep up with the boy, not like your son can."

Mandrake was silent before grabbing a few of the thicker books; going to help the old Bookkeeper; "I don't wish him to end up like I," Mandrake admitted.

"You are not happy with who you have become?" Garel questioned.

Mandrake was silent putting a book on the shelf, "Silence is my answer I see," Garel answered, "It is quite often the loudest one,"

Garel walked away to get more scrolls; "What do I do?'

"What is it you wish to do?"

"I wish to not turn into my Mother," Mandrake answered.

"Then you know what you must do," Garel advised.

Mandrake kept silent as the put the books and scrolls back, and like he promised, he left with his sister, son, and a platoon of troops, as every other kingdom would arrive with.

Y/n was still rushing to get ready when she heard horns from her open windows, she and her workers peeked their heads outside.

"Damn it..." Y/n cursed, watching the Northern Woods Kingdom arrive; Queen Euthalia walked beside her husband King Costanine their Shaman and General behind them; Atticus' parents and kingdom, there flag raised high, and pristine. Moonhaven's own people surrounded them on both sides respectfully celebrating their arrival.

"Do we know who's here yet?"

"The People of the Glaze are here, and so is Kingdom Noxis." One of the women answered.

Y/n grew silent, as they watched the Queen and King vanish into the castle entrance below.

"Come now we must hurry!" A woman advised the two to rush off as Y/n watched the window for a moment long.

"Princess," they called for her.

"Right-" she turned to join them in finishing getting ready, yet a dark horn and bells sang, catching her attention as she turned back towards her window, and looked out.

There they were, Wraithwood. Witch Ayana was veiled with moss and held fisted praying hands, Mandrake walked at the head, standing strong, staff in hand, and Dagda. Dagda walked on the opposite side of Ayana next to his father.

Y/n ran out onto her balcony. Moonhavener's cowardly in fear rather than rejoiced, Y/n leaned over her balcony, watching them make their kingdom known. Their flag was raised high and with pride, it had seen battle shown by the rips and tears and the ends.

"Quickly!" Y/n called to the woman rushing inside, "I must be quick."

The long and decorated table was set for tea, with Moonhaven's finest harvest of its fruits and honey. Tara's thrown room was decorated as it always was, flowers in turned and shining light down in the room.

"My Queen," Queen Euthina bowed, her husband doing the same.

"Queen Euthina, King Constantine." Queen Tara bowed Ronin besides her, "it is an honor,"

"Oh, please Queen Tara, we go through this every year." Queen Euthina chuckled Tara chuckled back, "We are the honored ones,"

"We do hope the arrival was safe."

"Very much so," Euthina smiled, "And we hope our son Atticus has been making a good impression."

Atticus walked up beside his mother; "An honor again Queen Tara."

"He has been a delight."

"General Ronin." The Northern Woods general spoke a handout.

"General Acker," Ronin spoke, shaking the man's hand.

"Sit please, we have all arrived," Queen Tara spoke; the other royals already sat; their general and shaman at one side, and the other is where their eldest stood, their eldest daughter sat next to them.

They took their seats; "Where is that lovely girl of yours? Y/n, isn't it?" Queen Misti questioned; the Queen of the People of the Glaze and Mother to Aalto and one other son Edur, who was off doing second born things; like not being at the arrival's tea party, with his sister Bayou, his sister Coral on the other hand forced to be at such a party.

"Princess Y/n will be down soon," Tara informed castle workers, pouring the new arrivals tea.

"I hope my son Jael hasn't stolen her heart," Queen Aeulla spoke, her husband, King Rowan beside her. She was Mother to five children; Jael her oldest son, Ather and Anil her younger boys, Anil was twined to the oldest sister Imberg and Alizee was the baby girl she had someone else taking care of.

"I could never do such a thing, not to such a delicate thing," Jael interrupted.

Ronin almost laughed and rolled his eyes; Y/n? Delicate? Yeah Right.

"I do hope a wedding will be in the fall," Queen Auella commented, "Perhaps even sooner?"

"We like surprises here in Moonhaven," Tara objected; "And Y/n loves to give them,"

There were laughing amongst the queens, but Guards running in interrupted them.

"Slow down," Tara tried to slow them, they panting heavily; "Deep breathes, what has happened?"

"Wraithwood..." A guard spoke; "Wraithwood is here!"

"Wraithwood?"

"Why is Wraithood here-"

"I need to get my people out of here! We are not at war!"

"You-"

"Enough!" Tara called to silence, and she received it; "There is...explanation to this-"

It was too late; the bell chimes were heard and in walked Boggin's; generals of each kingdom ready to unsheathe their weapons and defend their rulers. With ease they parted and stopped; and in came Mandrake with his son and sister. Mandrake's staff's end seemingly shook the ground every time it came down; the royals growing anxious with each step.

Then he stopped.

It fell silent.

Y/n rushed out of her room, Finn waiting for her on the opposite wall, he slouched, but quickly stood attention.

"Woah..."

Y/n smiled small as she stood there; "Too much?"

"You look beautiful," Finn complimented, Y/n chuckling, he held his arm out; "Shall we?"

Y/n wrapped an arm around him as they started their way; "Nervous at all?"

"No," Y/n answered, looking up at him; then nodded; "Just a bit,"

"How is your wound doing?"

Y/n touched her face, the stitches were cut out and replaced with sap to close up the wound.

"Good," Y/n answered, "it'll scar, but I'll be fine."

They walked down the steps, and down the hall, "You did good," Finn spoke, "Guarding your friend like that,"

"Oh, We're not...I..." Y/n tried to lie.

"My sister in arms was like you, she was a big believer in peace," Finn added.

"I'll have to meet her then," Y/n spoke.

"She taught me and Ronin everything we know,"

Y/n smiled as they reached the doors, "Thank you."

Finn looked down at her; "Makes me feel a little less alone in my own head."

She received a small smile from him; "Thank you then,"

"For what?"

"Making me feel a little less alone in my own head,"

Y/n chuckled; "it's rough up there,"

"I know that." Finn answered, "Now, Princess. Shall we?"

"We shall, second in command,"

He knocked on the door letting the guards know who it is before it was opened for the two of them.

"You're not welcomed here-"

Too involved in demands to make Wraithwood leave to hear the knocking, the heavy creak of the doors was the only thing to interrupt the group of Kings and Queens.

"Ah! So, the Princess decides to joy us!" Mandrake cheered; the sarcasm laced within his words was strong.

Y/n walked forward; letting go of Finn's guiding arm and stopped in front of the trio of Wraithwood.

"King of Wraithwood," Y/n bowed, Mandrake bowing in response, "I am honored you accepted my invitation."

She turned towards the witch; "Witch of Wraithwood." she bowed.

"Princess of Moonhaven," She bowed.

Then she turned towards Dagda, "Prince of Wraithwood."

He was frozen in his spot; he had never thought of Y/n wearing a dress, it was made of lily petals, two small fern accents on her waist, and a matching fern choker. To anyone who had eyes; and he had never been so glad he did, there was a silver dagger held into place with another longer fern on her thigh, dressed in elegance and ready to kill? She couldn't get any better.

Mandrake nudged his son hard, "Uh, Princess of Moonhaven," he bowed.

Y/n rose up and Dagda followed; she smiled at the three, and looked around, "This way please,"

They followed her, and Y/n showed them to the last empty seats; "Please, sit, may I take your staff for you?"

The royals looked at each other; Wraithwood had been invited. Mandrake denied her of his staff, and she was quick to pour them all tea, before taking her own seat, which Ronin was quick to pull out for her.

"I apologize for my late appearance."

"That is quite alright Princess," Atticus commented, Y/n's gaze shifting his way.

"You look very beautiful today Princess Y/n," Coral complimented.

"Thank you," Y/n smiled.

"Shall we discuss the season's plans then?" Tara spoke up.

"The same as last are they not?" King Constantine spoke up; "They never change."

"Perhaps we can discuss an upcoming event?" Queen Aeulla questioned.

"We are discussing the summer solstice already?" Y/n inquired.

"No," Tara told, "that is too far in advance."

"We were hoping on attending a wedding Princess of Moonhaven," Queen Euthalia commented.

"Who is getting married?" Queen Misti asked.

"I was hoping to discuss the sudden involvement of Wraithwood," King Rowan asked, "We have never needed them to keep the balance and yet we invited them now?"

"Wraithwood has kept their balance," Y/n defended.

King Rowan laughed, and Y/n's glance hardened into a glare; "What balance? The destruction of our kingdoms?"

"Everything we grow must die," Y/n answered.

"All of it?" Queen Misti inquired.

"At some points, how do you expect to feed the new?" Y/n told she received a hum in response; would she get someone on her side? So quick?

"I agree," Queen Misti spoke up; "The involvement of decay goes hand in hand with the state of water, decay is how most of our islands are made, I approve of the involvement of Wraithwood."

"Oh please," Aalto rolled his eyes.

"Watch it boy," Queen Misti argued.

"Any further questions you can direct them towards me, I invited Wraithwood," Y/n spoke.

"Well certainly we aren't giving them weapons for the games," King Rowan argued.

"I agree with Wraithwood rejoining," Queen Misti agreed, "but war has been strong between Wraithwood and Moonhaven, they should not be in the games this year,"

"King of Wraithwood?" Y/n asked, "Your opinion?"

"I am a guest, by your rule, I follow," Mandrake answered.

"Then it's no," Queen Aeulla snapped.

"By my rule." Y/n corrected, "Yet the answer is clear, Wraithwood will not compete."

Damn it.

"Going back to the season's plans," Tara spoke back up.

Y/n stayed silent the whole time, Dagda catching the corner of her eye occasionally; it only caused her to look away and drink from her cup of tea.

Well into the day they finished, younger kids were returned to the royals, and they walked out for the people to shout in their praise one set at a time.

Y/n and Wraithwood stayed back, "King Mandrake, please, excuse their rudeness-"

"Enough."

Y/n grew to silence, "I commend you on your boldness, both yesterday and today."

Y/n bowed her head, "I almost must thank you; my son may not be here without you." Mandrake thanked.

"We knew how it'd be before we accepted your invitation, we knew how'd it be after." Mandrake finalized, Y/n nodding.

"Thank you for coming." Y/n thanked.

"Thank you for taking the initiative," Ayana told.

Y/n nodded, looking at Dagda finally, "Will you stay for the night celebrations?"

It was clear she was trying to be neutral, yet the small and hopeful smile Y/n gave Dagda said it all; Will you be with me for the night?

"i-"

"Wraithwood!" was announced.

"that's your call..." Y/n spoke.

"yeah..."

A moment of silence, before Mandrake had to drag his son away. The crowd of people was silent, yet the Boggins cheered and Y/n from inside only smiled.

"Moonhaven!"

Cheers were louder in Moonhaven's name, Y/n, and Tara walking out side by side.

"We welcome the Spring Equinox united! And together!" Tara called to the people who only grew louder; by this time; people had come from other kingdoms, ready to celebrate and dance the days away, united.

It went from royal celebration to party below; groups naturally separated themselves, and Mandrake almost called his people home. Yet the way his son looked at Y/n convinced him to say otherwise. Thrones were down for the royals despite Y/n not truly wanting to sit in one and mingle amongst the people instead.

It gave her time to think, at least, she hadn't done a lot of that as of recent, it was just go, go, go. She looked over at Tara and Ronin, Tara sat polite and pretty as ever. It was in her nature to be caring. Ronin simply wanted to protect, yet the distance between the young royal's section and the older royals section felt larger than it was truly. When all was just a few chairs with a gap between the two creating a singular row.

Maybe she had pushed her ideas too much, yet she had never really pushed anything in her life. She followed each and every rule.

"Princess Y/n-"

Her focus was broken, and she blinked back into reality, "Nod, hey."

Nod smiled. He was dressed nicer than their usual attire, "If you're not too busy you wanna ya know..."

He pointed with a thumb behind him, past the crowds of people there was a man selling sweets.

"I could use a sweet." Y/n answered getting up to quickly follow her, Finn who was at her back stayed still, "I'll be back Finn."

He sent a smile and nod.

"Are you not supposed to go with her?" Jael asked.

"Princess Y/n is capable of handling a small walk to grab a sweet. Nod will protect her if anything is to happen." Finn answered.

"What useless guards." Aalto laughed, elbowing his brother Edur who only ended up rubbing his arm, "It's not like she needs another sweet in her life."

Finn wished he could have said something: really, Princes were on his lists of icks for sure.

"Didn't your parents teach you basic manners?"

Heads shot towards Dagda, "Oh. The rat speaks." Alto chuckled.

"Brother." Edur complained.

"Don't be a baby." Alto argued.

Eudr grew quiet he hugged his previously hit arm.

"Don't pick on him!" Aether spoke up on his behalf.

"Aether." Jael snapped.

"No wonder you went to war with us." Coral leaned over to Dagda, "Boys are idiots dont let them get to you-"

"Shut it, Coral!" Her brother argued.

"Suck on a bag of nuts!" She snapped back then turned back to Dagda, "I'm Coral."

Coral was young: barely twelve-years-old, and her feet didn't reach the floor as she sat on the throne.

"Dagda." He introduced.

She smiled, "Mandrake's your Dad, right?"

Dagda nodded, "What's your Shamans name?"

"She goes by the Witch title. She's my Aunt Ayana."

"Ooo! Cool!" Coral cheered, "Edur is our Shaman in training he's my second oldest brother. Do you have siblings?"

"No." Dagda answered.

"Oh." Coral spoke, racking her brain for another question: she went silent.

Dagda let his attention be stolen past the crowd, Y/n laughing as she and her friend were given a chunk of honeycomb candy, wrapped in a leaf. She leaned down and away from his line of sight and returned shortly with a child on her hip, boggin in origin, and split the candy with the child, the little girl happy as she ate her half, she setting the child back down to run off back to her family, letting Y/n return back to talking with Nod.

Dagda figured he'd have to get on Nod's good side; from where he sat, he could see the sibling-by-choice bond, from Aalto's and Jael's side, they could only see red they could not act upon. A commoner? With a Princess?

"Atticus can you believe this?"

Atticus was silent as he watched Y/n, "Atticus!"

He looked to the side, Aalto sitting there, "who does he think he is,"

"The maid boy?" Atticus questioned; "he's just that, dirt has more value than him."

"They're friends," Dagda spoke up.

"You know...whatever you really are," Aalto commented towards Dagda, "You certainly have an eye for the Princess,"

"Or he just knows how to treat people," Aether spoke up in Dagda's defense, "I wouldn't be surprised if she beats you up and marries him,"

Aalto only looked at Jael, before bursting out in full-blown laughter; Jael chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck," What do you know of women? Child?"

"Leave him alone!" Eudr argued.

"I told you to shut it," Aalto ordered.

"Here we go," Imberg finally spoke up.

"Such idiots," her twin Anil mumbled.

Y/n stood with Nod, talking as they ate their candy; "So... I was thinking."

"Oh?" Y/n asked, "Is that a good idea?"

"Just hear me out," Nod spoke; "And I know it'll sound weird- like really weird,"

Y/n raised a brow, "What if you... hypothetically, didn't marry Prince Atticus."

Y/n paused, before breaking out into full blown laughter; "You think- I? me- I'm sorry I-"

She couldn't contain her laughter as she glanced back at him; and his face was full of hurt; "I just don't think you should be with someone like him-"

Y/n paused, "Nod, what are you talking about?"

"Y/n be serious," Nod told, "The flowers...the looks, he was in your room."

"Flowers? Looks?" Y/n questioned, "You're in my room, we've slept in the same bed before, we're brother and sister, we were raised that way-"

"Y/n he's a Prince, just say it already."

"Say what Nod?"

"Come on!" Nod argued, "You love him, you're leaving with him!"

Y/n looked at him almost offended, "Nod I don't know who told you what-"

"It's quite obvious, I'm barely a guard, he knows what's best for you-"

"Who said that to you!? Was it, Prince Atticus-"

"If not him, who are you leaving Moonhaven for-"

"Why does it matter-"

"Because I care about you!" he shouted, the argument starting to catch the attention of people around them; "I'm your brother Y/n! You think Ronin or Tara are the only ones that care about you!? You think I wasn't terrified when you were lost! Or scared when you took that sword to the face!"

"Nod please-" Y/n tried to calm him down placing a hand on his shoulder, the crowd around them dying down; "I'm not leaving Moonhaven-"

"Then what's going on with you? Do you need help? Are you leaving?!" he asked desperately, their conversation had died down, "Y/n please."

Y/n looked at him and shook her head. What was she meant to say? She was in love? With the enemy's son no less?

"I." Y/n started, the hope in his eyes: "I should go back."

"y/n-" he called, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer to beg in a quieter voice, his hands coming to wrap around her hand, "Y/n, please, I cannot lose another person I love- What happens when you go? Do I just lose you? never to see you again? I just- don't know- I'm scared, please. Just tell me what's happening,"

Nod never pleaded, never like this; she looked down at his hands; how had she dug herself into such a hole? She looked from his hands up back at him; her eyes mirrored his, heartbreak; the sadness of being alone.

"I'm in love..." She answered him finally holding eye contact with him, Nod could crumble right there; he was right; hearing it was almost like rubbing salt into a wound, "...I... know you wouldn't agree...I know Ronin or Tara wouldn't...I- Well I-."

"Who is it-"

"Nod-" Y/n started; "Please don't-"

"Tell me he'll at least take care of you when your sick- when you're in your own little world and need time to come out of it-" Nod continued; "he'll be there for you."

"Nod he can't be there for me," Y/n answered.

Nod held an offended look; "And you expect anyone to just be okay with you going off-"

She was growing angry; the tendency to snap seemed viable more than ever, "He can't be here because we're in war," Y/n argued.

"Y/n-"

"I'm in love with Prince Dagda," Y/n finally snapped, and he dropped her hand, his eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

"Y/n-"

"I have to get back." She told him.

"Y/n please- just wait-"

Yet she pulled away for a final time and weaved her way through people.

"Y/n-"

Yet she was gone and through the crowd. Making her way back to her spot beside the other royal children.

"He'll do nicely..." Atticus spoke, watching Y/n storm off, and Nod's failed attempt to follow her.

"What?" Jael questioned.

"Hm?" Atticus hummed, looking towards the older teen.

"What did you say?" Jael asked.

"Oh nothing, thinking about a book I read is all," Atticus answered with a lazily warm smile, watching Y/n return to her throne to take a seat.

"You look stunning Princess Y/n," Jael complimented her, "I was hoping perhaps, now that you've returned from the floor, we could dance,"

"No," Y/n answered, her tone flat, and her mind somewhere else, yet it quickly changed; "You know the rules, dear Prince Jael."

"Ah." Jael answered then laughed; "How could I forget,"

Jael raised from his feet, making his way down the steps to turn sharply and walk along the bottom one, re-walking them, he kneeled in front of Tara.

"He's asking the queen if Y/ns allowed to dance with him," Coral informed Dagda, "A prince has to ask her to dance before anyone else can,"

"Her friend took her," Dagda commented.

"Yeah, but that's to eat it's different," Coral told him, "Plus everyone knows that's practically her brother, see Tara's the easy one, it's Ronin Jael has to get past, even if he gets past Ronin- which I doubt, he'll have to get passed Finn as well, her guard,"

Dagda looked over and up at the man standing to the side and behind Y/n's throne, he leaned down and whispered to her, he had been there the whole time in silence.

"And even if he gets past Tara, Ronin, and Finn, Y/n still has to agree," Coral told him.

"Seems like a lot,"

"Well, if you're really in love with a girl it's a real beautiful thing; takes a lot of guts," Coral informed.

Dagda watched as young men started to line up behind Jael. Jael gave his introduction; the perfect bow, the respectable attitude, the sweet smile, and there it was he was through, and off to stand in front of Y/n on a knee, hand out ready for her to respond.

Yet Y/n only stared off into space, watching beyond the crowd.

"Are you alright Ms. Y/n?" Imbreg's questioned, it breaking Y/n's stare into space.

"hm?'

"Are you alright?" Imbreg repeated.

"Fine...I'm...fine." Y/n answered, unsure of the answer herself.

Y/n just left Jael sitting there, no response and not a glance his way. But she felt eyes on her and finally she looked down.

"Prince Jael. Apologies, but...I do not feel the best right now." Y/n answered him: "Please forgive me."

"Not even a small waltz-"

"She said No."

Heads shot just one seat down, Dagda was there: with small Coral to back him up.

"Back off." Dagda ordered.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Jael spoke, rising to his feet.

Finn stepped between Jael and Y/n's seat: "Return to your seat. Immediately."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was the Boggin boy that slashed your face in!" Jael snapped loudly.

It caught attention: King's and Queen's looking there way.

"I said return to your seat." Finn ordered again, "or I will put you there myself."

"Under what authority?" Jael argued back.

"Mine." Y/n deemed, standing up, she wasn't in the mood for this, not right now, she guiding Finn to the side.

"Take a seat and stop being such a fuckin cry baby!-" Y/n ordered, the music stopped and so did everyone mingling and dancing.

"Y/n-" Tara got up, quick to diffuse the situation.

"Get this straight! Royal or not! I am not some bitch you can fuck around with! I am not some whore you can dog on!!" Y/n's voice boomed. She walked towards Jael as he started to back up. He almost slipped on a step as she pushed more and more into his personal space: "My family- My people come first! I know how you talk to my guards! How you treat my castle workers! And I know how you talk about me! So get this straight fucker! I am Princess of Moonhaven! I will do anything to keep my people happy and healthy! And I will not have some foreign cock sucker disrespect my guest or my people! So get your head out your ass, get back in your seat, and learn some fucking manners!"

Jael finally slipped at the last step, falling back as Y/n glared down at him.

"y/n that is enough!" Tara ordered grabbing her arm.

Y/n looked back at Tara the glare still hard on her face; she scoffed and pulled her arm away before storming off. Finn was quick to follow her and Ronin was quick to join him.

"Princess Y/n!" Ronin shouted after her.

Tara looked towards other Leafmen; "Go help Ronin, don't lose sight of her please,"

The woman nodded and a few more Leaf Men followed her in support.

"What a great relationship you have with your daughter," Mandrake spoke up; Tara looked back to glare at him; "Have I struck a nerve?"

"Get my son up, would you?" King Rowan asked his personal guard, who only left in glaring at Prince Jael, "he owes Moonhaven an apology."

Dagda took the chance of confusion amongst the crowds and the disappointment of the royals slip away to follow Y/n. He followed far enough behind searching guards to not draw any attention; and was able to hide with the help of the darkening sky, the sun was setting, and the moon would rise soon. Yet what was his advantage ended up being his disadvantage; he didn't know Moonhaven like the back of his hand; he didn't know anything about Moonhaven, but he knew Y/n.

She had gone over the border by mistake; messing around with her friend, yet she returned to cross the border; trying to leave Moonhaven behind just for a moment to experience a new world. Dagda figured to get away from her own once again she'd run to his.

And she did.

She was quick to cross the border; slide in the mud down a hill and was quick to hide under the cliff, back against the rock wall.

"y/n!" Ronin called out for her, "Y/n please!"

Y/n stayed silent; Ronin was right above her; "Y/n!"

Yet another leaf man called his name; ushering him a different way; and he ran away quickly in hopes that they found her.

She waited a moment before moving. Dagda crossed the border; the mud from last night's rainstorm was still present. And in it, he spotted tracks and was quick to follow them. He found her easier than he assumed; her tracks were fresh after all, and the mud that covered her dress still could block out the bright against the dark that Wraithwood was.

He pushed past the bushes seeing her through the branches and ended up at the other end, yet she was gone.

"Y/n?" he called for her softly, yet he was taken to the ground, a dagger put to his throat.

"It's me!" Dagda surrendered, looking up at Y/n who had wide eyes, and a snarl on her face, her dagger once on her thigh high into the air, yet her expression dropped and with it her silver dagger, "It's just me..."

"I...I-" Y/n spoke quickly getting off him; he quick to sit up as she started pacing; "I'm such a fucking idiot!"

"Y/n-"

"I should of just said yes! Get it out of the way!-"

"You said no, it's as simple as that," Dagda defended her, her white dress ends dragging in the mud.

"I should have just sat there, and said nothing," Y/n told him, turning back around and walking the other way; "Ronin won't look at me! Nod's mad at me! Tara, Tara's so disappointed in me I might as well as of killed a man! The one time I push my views! Everything goes south!"

"Y/n," Dagda called, turning to look at him he grabbed her arms carefully; he worried for her and it truly showed; "You didn't do anything wrong- You got my father to stop fighting and come to Moonhaven in peace. You're stopping a war."

"I feel like I'm just hurting more and more people," Y/n told him; "No one will stand with me, I don't know what to do-"

"I stand with you," Dagda told. His grip on her arms tightened the slightest in reassurance, "Always."

"If I involve you, anybody- somebody- I won't let somebody get hurt-" Y/n told him,

"You are somebody," Dagda pleaded with her, "You're somebody to me."

There was a slight perk in Y/n's form; "I." He started.

Y/n's eyes widened the slightest, anticipation quickly building in her; I what? I hate you. I'll help you. I believe in you. I love-

"I care." He paused in the middle of his sentence, "About you... a lot...I don't know what to do about it..."

Y/n pulled her arms from his grasp, he letting go; he scared her off- yet she took his hands instead, her hands were cold.

"I care about you too," Y/n answered.

Dagda gave her a nervous smile that looked goofy more than anything else causing her to chuckle shortly and smile back. In his eyes and heart her smile could make snow melt, and could convince any person no matter age, or status. Not to mention she was strong, mentally and physically; she could take a beating and could keep her morals and her standards, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. His thoughts were shifted as a breeze picked up, and Y/n's grip on his hands tightened.

"You're cold," He spoke, pulling away from her hands to take his rat coat off to give to her.

"You'll be cold."

"I know where some are stuffed around here," Dagda answered, he taking her hand and leading her along the way.

Finn watched from his spot on the tree branch, bow in hand, arrow knocked, yet he was relaxed, an arrow pointing down in no ill matter.

He followed.

Tracking the couple from up high was easier than ground tracking them. He hopped from one branch to another, keeping close eyes on the two. Through the dark Dagda navigated them until they come upon a tree; it was half dead and partially knocked over leaning against another tree that stood strong.

Y/n followed him in willingly; they entered from the bottom of the tree; the entrance hidden by the roots. Dagda's own little hideout as Y/n presumed, a workstation, filled with half-made arrows, and the act of bracing left discarded halfway through, and bow silencers, little fluffy balls made from fur sat on his desk; it looks like he had made an abundance of them. Y/n plucked one from its spot on the wooden table; perhaps it was rats' fur? Maybe squirrel tail? -

Wood scrapped against the floor and crashed against each other; Y/n turned her head to see the source of the commotion; Dagda trying to set up a small little table; with two chairs.

"I-" Dagda was quick to make up an excuse.

"I was just getting tired thanks," Y/n quickly saved him, she smiling at him softly; "You'll sit with me?"

"Yeah! -" He answered quickly but toned it down, "... yeah...I will.."

Y/n walked her way over and took a careful seat, the fur end coming to wrap around her midsection and arms; she didn't want to sit on it. She crossed her legs; the slit showing her leg off as she hummed. There was a nice warmth to Dagda's little hiding spot.

"This your hide out?" Y/n asked.

"In a way." Dagda answered her, a new coat on him, a bit more worn than Y/n's but in good use.

They matched.

Y/n rubbed up and down her arm: "I'm sorry that...it didnt go as planned."

A cup was placed in front of her; she looked down at the cup, whatever Dagda said went over her head, not making it to her ears.

Had she seen this cup somewhere?

"Y/n?'

"Huh?" Y/n spoke up, looking his way, "sorry...I... just feel like I've seen this somewhere..."

Picking it up, she looked at the simple yet elegant pattern, and it was the pattern rather than the cup. She found it out that it was in a circle as well.

"You know it looks like it's meant to be on a fancy key almost." Y/n commented.

She paused.

Key....A key

"Where'd you get them?" Y/n changed the subject.

"Uh..." Dagda spoke, "This place use to be my dad's hole when he was younger. He never came back after my mother died. Must be from her."

"Sorry." Y/n was quick to apologize, "didn't mean to bring up bad memories..."

She set the cup down and as soon as she did Dagda was filling it carefully. It becoming quiet between the two.

"Don't worry about it," He finally spoke up; Y/n looked down at the steaming cup of tea and looked over to the cup being filled.

Dagda caught sight of it; she intently watched him as he filled his cup. His first thought was she wanted his instead and was quick to attempt to switch them.

"It's better the farther you go down," was his reasoning.

"Oh," Y/n spoke, she figured her staring had made him uncomfortable; "thanks... I haven't had any bundles from Wraithwood,"

Dagda nodded as Y/n was silent, it bothered the air around them, and it bother Dagda most of all, he didn't really know how to ask her either.

He sat down on a chair, just to the right of her, she looked down at the liquid. Maybe he should just do it? Ask what's wrong? He didn't want to bother her; she was the question asker after all; always has been it's how their relationship started. He had always been the answer; the one to inform her; and explain Wraithwood.

"You...okay?" He asked awkwardly as she looked his way shortly.

"Long day...sorry..." Y/n answered, tired.

"You can stay the night," Dagda offered.

"I-" Y/n started, her hands started to talk for her, and her eye's darted around; "Stay the night- I- I couldn't..."

Dagda cursed mentally; he made her nervous- she talking like she had when she handed him bread; he liked it sure; but he realized how frantic she had really become; "You don't have to-"

"I mean yes!" Y/n answered quickly; "Sorry- I mean- well I would like to wish you would be a dream- That sound's weird! I didn't mean it like that."

"Like what?" Dagda asked; "Sounds like you're being nice."

"Well- yes, but- I- Prince Atticus was in my room the other night- and Nod already thinks I'm- It wasn't like that I swear- I just-" Y/n finally groaned in annoyance, her own words against her and her head fell into her hands, she balling up in the chair, legs coming up to her chest, the two slits in the dress allowing so.

Dagda looked away, "He...sounds worried..."

"Nod?" Y/n asked muffled.

"Y.Yeah..." Dagda answered.

"I know he is..." Y/n told him, "I. Just never thought he'd..."

Y/n couldn't finish her sentence, "He'd?" Dagda asked.

"Have so much... anxiety about it." Y/n answered turning her head, so her cheek rested on her knee, and she looked Dagda's way; " I never thought he'd think I'd leave him like that either...it. just hurts."

She closed her eyes, "Maybe just take drink some tea, and take a rest before going back," Dagda recommended.

Y/n was still, eyes still closed in thought, and she ultimately nodded, agreeing with the idea.

Finn watched carefully through the open end, the uprooted roots helping him blend in. He was ready to shoot if needed; to swoop in and save Y/n. Yet he waited; watched her feet return to the floor and a cup of tea come into her hand for a sip.

Finn's verdict? She'd be safe here, respected, and heard. Something he believed she wouldn't be exactly if she went back to Moonhaven; even diamonds can crack under pressure, hit it enough times, and in the right spot it would crack and splinter like dried leaves you'd walk on in the fall.

Yet before he could turn around to retreat, he was gone; none of his personal belongings were left in his wake- yet a loud crack from a root he attempted to grab; and ultimately failed.

Y/n was quick to get up at the sound, Dagda following her; results of their training; never take anything lightly.

They looked at each other before Dagda grabbed his bow, and Y/n grabbed the knife Dagda had sitting on the counter. He kept her behind him; yet his hand held her wrist tightly in worried taste; she grasped for his hand which was opted for in the end.

"I've got your back," Y/n told him softly.

They were truly ready to jump anyone who was outside that doorway; yet when they turned the corner ready to strike no one was there.

They stood in silence; till Y/n's laughter was horribly hidden; she ended in a loud laughing fit. Dagda turned his head as Y/n tried to cover her mouth, yet the laughing continued.

"You-" Before he could even finish, she had her arms around him; her chin resting on his shoulder as she laughed happily; "You have a knife be careful-"

Yet her laughter filled his ears; "I would have loved to see our scared faces! Imagine how crazy we looked! All for a broken twig!"

He held onto her forearm as they rested near his collarbone, her laughter died down after some time- a laugh well needed; and she smiled.

"Thanks, Dagda." She cheered, hugging him tighter.

"Y.Yeah," He spoke, he turning to look at her smiling face: yet she froze just as well.

Too close, and sleeping over?

"Sorry! -" y/n quickly apologized, pulling away, "sorry-"

"No! No! You're... okay..." Dagda told her, she setting the knife back away.

"I... I should go..." Y/n spoke, setting the knife back down on the counter, "Thanks. Again- I really appreciate it."

"I can take you back," Dagda was quick to offer, "If you want,"

Y/n crossed her arms; bringing the rat skin cloak closer in on herself "Yeah, that'd be nice, thanks."

As promised; Dagda returned her home, A short ride seemed shorter as she wrapped her arms around his waist; and sat behind him on his bir, she comfortably pressed against him to even their weight. She was returned to the castle front; where the part had died; and the Queen had been; giving orders on where to search next; and given ear report on the findings: Nothing. The other Queens and Kings surrounded Tara in aid.

"Your child's missing!" King Rowan snapped; "He probably stole the princess after she ran off-"

"I have not been stolen," Y/n argued as Dagda landed the bird; he got off and helped Y/n off soon after, his hand catching Her's in assistance.

Oh, what he'd do to hold her hand for a moment longer.

"Thank you," Y/n spoke looking toward him.

He only nodded and let her hand leave his as she walked forward; he came to walk beside her.

"Y/n!" Tara shouted; quickly rushing down the set of steps with Ronin not too far behind.

Y/n's face was quickly grabbed; Tara inspected her face and neck; Are you alright? Did you get hurt!? Where did you run off to? -"

Tara paused and looked at what she was wearing; "What are you wearing?"

"Oh- I-" Y/n pulled away starting to pull it off; folding it over her arm; "Dagda- Prince Dagda found me cold...he was kind of enough to give me his cloak..."

She handed it back to him; "Thanks-"

"You keep it," Dagda told her; he could quickly feel eyes on him; "It's a cold spring this year..."

"Princess Y/n has plenty of-"

"Thanks," Y/n was quick to cut Ronin off, she pulled the folded cloak into her chest, "I appreciate it."

Dagda nodded before she was dragged off by Tara, Ronin following behind.

"Goodnight Moonhaven!" Dagda shouted towards Y/n's retreating form.

She turned around and stopped despite Tara and Ronin's protest.

"Goodnight, Wraithwood!" Y/n called back, finishing it off with a loving smile before she was dragged off once again.

Could Dagda fall in love anymore? Yes, and he did. Despite the side eyes, eyerolls, looks of disgust by the other royals: "does he really think she'd go for him", he only stared at where her retreating form once was, in his mind: she stood there still, smiling back at him, holding the cloak he handed her close.

"Dagda!"

"Huh?"

His father was already on the move and so what his aunt the other royals gone: "We are leaving."

Y/n stood in the window: watching the leaders of Wraithwood leave Moonhaven

"Y/n!" Tara snapped, "Are you even listening!"

"Yes, Queen Tara." Y/n answered softly.

"Then explain yourself!" Tara ordered.

Y/n stood in silence.

"Y/n!"

The silence grew heavy, and Tara grew in anger.

"Do you have no idea what you've just done!" Tara shouted, "You embarrassed everyone! You're people! Me! Ronin! You've embarrassed yourself."

Y/n was quiet; arms crossed; and mind somewhere else.

"Hello!?" Tara shouted, "Y/n!"

"I hear you." was her only answer, Tara could only walk off; worrying if she said anything further, she'd go off the rail in anger.

Ronin stayed behind, she had figured he followed Tara, try and clam her down. She wiped her face.

"Y/n-"

She looked back shortly, "yeah. yeah?" she tried to speak with a steady voice.

"I'm fine."

"I'll...go see how-" Yet before he could finish his sentence, Y/n sprinted into his chest, his body rocking with the impact, she hugging him tightly.

"I don't know what to do!" she cried into his armored chest, his arms hovered as she squeezed him tighter, finally them came to rest on her upper back with the other set above it, hugging her back; "I'm worried about Nod. and. And the kingdom! and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence before her heavy crying continued, he holding her the whole time; his hand moved into her hair, and he kissed her head. She quite literally cried herself to sleep, he holding her leaning body up before quickly putting an arm behind her knees and letting her upper half drop into his other arm and picking her up bridal style and bringing her over to the bed to sleep. He wiped her face the best he could before getting up to grab a change of clothes for her.

Ronin remembered it being easier when she was younger; and awake, when she used to dress in the cute pink gowns made from rose petals, either it be for night or day she always showed him; proud of her pretty dresses. Now it seemed Y/n owed just two dresses, the one Ronin had in hand, and an old coronation dress that she wouldn't even fit anymore; everything else a few pairs of pants, shirts, and coats, she was dressing like a leaf man now. He tucked her in; he hadn't done that in a while either. He ran a thumb over her cheek, her nose pointed towards him giving a full view of the scar he had put there, with his own two hands, it divided her face diagonally, an accident he could never forgive himself for. He leaned over; kissing her forehead where the new scar ended.

"I love you," Ronin whispered to her before placing a second kiss on the same spot, and getting up, he going to check on Nod, hoping it would give her some solace that someone heard her.

The barracks were full of the day shift. Solider and Guards slept, Nod had a hard time sleeping, he rolling from one side to another, he sighed, he told himself just close his eyes, burry them into the pillow in he has to. His back faced the open window that sat between him and another soldier's bunk.

Between the bunks stood Atticus, a sharp dagger in his hand. His eyes heavy and dark despite their unnatural fire color. He had the sweats, and at any moment he could start panting like a dog in need of water as drool came out the sides of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. His canines'-true fangs.

Then it started: his thirst for water grew and the panting grew to Nod's ears, his eyes opened yet his body didn't turn. His ears perhaps playing tricks on him? He shifted slightly to turn yet the sound of a bone snapping paused him, one after another: snap, pop and crunch.

If you're still enough, a monster under the best can't see you. Tara told the two children, Nod and Y/n wrapped up in a blanket together scared of the wind outside the room.

With his wide eyes, he slowly lifted a hand to cover his mouth of any sound.

Thump

Was it gone?

He heard a door open to the barracks and a soft call of his name.

"Nod? You in here?" Y/n called to him softly.

He was quick to shoot up and shout for her to run but his mouth was grabbed by a rough hand and a dagger to his throat. The door across the room was shut and Y/n wasn't there.

It's still in here with him.

His eyes turned towards the figure: it blocked out the moonlight, a woman, older, covered over the eyes and forehead with webbed fungus. Her eyes visible through the different sized webbed holes.

He took in a sharp breath as his eyes were filled with fear: even a sharp breath seemed too loud as nails were dug into his cheek causing his eyes to water.

The door to the barracks opened: another guard coming to rest perhaps.

A glass of water broke in the distance, the two guards looking over to where Nod's bed was; yet the window was open, and no one was there.

"Stop tryin' to scare me!" One of the men argued silently pushing his friend.

"I'm your boyfriend, not an asshole." The second argued, "We're just tired."

The door opened behind them, and one grabbed onto the other as they shot around.

"Ah...Commander, did the Princess get back safe?" They asked.

"She's in her room," Ronin informed.

"That's good, can we help you?"

"I'm looking for Nod."

They looked towards his bed across the way; "He's not in here sir," the second answered.

Ronin sighed; "Get some rest, we need to be on high alert tomorrow."

"Yes sir."

"Goodnight sir."

Ronin closed the door behind him as he left.

"You are pacing again." Mandrake sighed; he poured tea for his sister.

Dagda was silent, "Dagda!"

"What?" He asked not bothering to look over.

"You're pacing. Again." Mandrake spoke, watching his son go back and forth.

"He smells of her." His aunt spoke up.

"I do not!" Dagda argued.

"Sure, and you didn't invite her to stay the night?" Ayana questioned.

"You did what?" Mandrake argued.

"I didn't!"

"Liar," Ayana spoke.

Dagda growled at her; "She was in distress! I offered to help her!"

"Is that why you've been holding an oddly shiny dagger in your sheath?" Ayana questioned; "It's her's, clearly, it was on her thigh-"

"Would you shut up?" Mandrake asked, the spew of information irritating him.

"What if she's in danger?" Dagda asked.

"From what? Ronin? Please the queen would have his head on a pyke." Mandrake told.

"Getting in trouble is a child's duty to a parent," Ayana explained.

"And those. those-" Dagda started to argue; "Those princes! they have no respect for her!"

"Oh please, like they'll ever pull the stunt again," Ayana reassured; "Y/n made sure of that."

"I should go see her, make sure she's okay," Dagda tried to convince.

"That won't do anything but anger Ronin and Tara, and truth be told I'm more afraid of Tara than of Ronin," Mandrake spoke.

"What do I do?" Dagda asked, "Sit here? And what? let it happen?"

"That is exactly what you do," Mandrake answered.

"No," Ayana cut in; "You may have all the time in the world in your eyes till you see the Princess again; but in response, you must make something to woo her, trust the princes have already attempted to swoon her with lavish gifts. You have her yes it's quite telling; yet she has gifted you a few things, like today."

"Today?" Dagda asked.

Ayana sighed; "The dress nephew...it was stunning was it not?"

Dagda nodded; not even having to think; "The dress was both for you and her, she meant to catch your eye, and she did, especially with the dagger on her thigh."

"I-" Dagda started, "I didn't know-"

"Dagda we both have eyes." Ayana cut in, causing him to sigh.

"Yes. She was... beautiful."

"The dress in that aspect shows her interest in you; on the other hand, it signifies her power; she was open to showing her weapon without concealment and seeming willing to wield it as needed; she's showing off her elegance and power; as well as her honesty; only back stabbers and low ballers hide their weapons. She's fully open to you and to her people, with style, of course." Ayana explained, Dagda giving her a confused look, causing her to sigh.

"She's not a bitch and is actually liked." Mandrake simplified, his sister hitting him in the chest.

"Mandrake." She scolded, "men never appreciate the whole picture I swear. Return the favor. Get her something nice- something you know she enjoys."

"She likes bread, tea. Bows and arrows." Dagda started to list.

"Seriously?" Ayana scolded, "You're just like your father, never know anything."

Mandrake pushed his sister's shoulder, as they started to bicker back and forth.

What did Y/n like? Sure. She liked bread, she brought her favorite bread over, she liked bows and arrows, knew extensively about them too, she took pride in her bow last time he saw it, yet he had never seen her with it since she had lost the quiver to the water.

"I have to go." Dagda spoke up, cutting his aunt and father off, and before they could truly say anything, he left with haste.

After he sat, he couldn't be found in another spot besides his own space: ingrained in carving the small detailing of the wood below. He had hoped she'd like the gift. Carving, sharpening, wrapping, tying off, and sewing, he crafted his life away.

Sometime after he set most things into place, he fell asleep in the wooden shavings shaped like curled ferns.

Dagda hopped she had dreams as good as his. Simplistic, nothing large: yet a happy flight across open skies with Y/n by his side.

Yet Y/n was being awoken. She looking up through hazy eyes as the loose form came into shape.

"Y/n."

"Nod?"

"Hey-"

She was up quickly, hugging him tightly. He chuckling.

"Miss me?"

"Where did you go?!"

"Off-"

"You idiot you cant do that!" Y/n argued pulling to look at him, "You scared me!-"

"Ah...Y/n I'm-"

He watched the tears come down her face: "sorry..." Nod finished.

Y/n looked at him only to hug him again tightly, "what happened!?"

"Does it matter?" Nod joked, "Finn found me. Seems like I wasn't the only one lost."

"Is Finn okay?" Y/n asked.

"He's okay."

Y/n hugged him tighter, Nod could only freeze, hands coming to rest on her back: she smelt good, and he deepened the hug by burrying his nose into the crook of her neck. If he took a bite, she'd kill him, and no. Not Y/n, though Y/n would probably kill him too.

Y/n pulled away: "and I'm sorry." Y/n apologized.

"For?"

"For?" Y/n asked, "I hurt your feelings Nod. I'm suppose to be your friend. I should have told you about Dagda."

"It's....fine." he answered...has he ever been apologized too by a higher up?

Y/n smiled, holding his hands; "I'm glad you're okay,"

He looked down at his hands in hers and nodded, "that's why I'm telling you this."

"Telling me what?" Nod asked watching her hands squeeze. his.

"I'm going to try and shoot for Wraithwood."

"What?" Nod asked, looking up at her, "You're not Wraithwood,"

"I know."

"You'll be killed."

"Then so be it," Y/n answered with a smile.

"There not even your people-"

"And I'd do the same for them," y/n told him,: "I know you dont agree with me, I know you won't ever probably agree with me. I've hurt you enough by lying to you. I'll never be a good ruler. Wont even be a good person if I keep hurting the people I love,"

"No matter who they are? No matter what they do?"

Y/n nodded: "Everyone deserves the truth nod."

A knock came on the door, and two workers came in; the usual two women.

"Ah! You found him!" One cheered.

"Glad to see you safe Nod!"

Y/n's hand slipped from Nod's.

"Yeah." Nod answered.

"Everyone alright dears?" One asked.

"Yeah." Y/n smiled, Nod only answered with a nod of his head.

"Well. If thats the case was your special somewhere here yesteday?"

"Please tell us how it went!"

Just like that they were welcomed so easily on Y/n's bed, cups of fresh tea in everyones hand as they talked happily about Y/n's crush.

"He's...very lovely." Y/n answered.

"Ah! Im so excited! Wedding? When?"

"What?!" Y/n laughed, "Wedding? No...no."

"Im sure Nod would walk you down the aisle. Right babe?" The woman asked.

Such a sweet woman.

"Yeah."

"I rather you be my best man." Y/n answered with a smile, "Ronin....if he would..."

"Im sure he would sweety." The second agreed.

Y/n smiled, "but! I'm not getting married- todays too important to think of anything else."

"Of course."

"You'll be great."

"Thank you for the encouraging words...Im...nervous."

"Really?"

"The princess of Moonhaven nervous?"

There was laughter from the two women Y/n chuckling along.

"I...should get going." Nod spoke up.

Y/n nodded, "We all have lots to do."

Nod set the cup on the tray and made his way out. Outside the room Finn was there. Waiting for him.

"What the fuck is your problem Flint." Finn argued.

"Nothing Grunt, lay off." Nod argued back.

"Whats the report."

"Nothing new. She's in love with....you know as she suspected."

Finn huffed, "come on. If we don't do this right she'll kill us. You know the plan. Or do I have to go over it again?"

"I know it." Nod argued, "You'll grab Ronin. When the stampede happens, I get the queen and princess when she says we'll slit their throats."

"Good, now come on."

It was a busy day, filled with last mintue preperations and last minthe checks.

Y/n was dressed in a more elegant gown, it down to her legs and a cream color with gold embroidery of small flower batches and lining, a thick belt like peice of fabric under her bust decorated with golden lily flowers, to finsih it off, a shawl thrown over it to combat the the cold of the same cream color- yet she replaced it with the cloak give to her by Daga, she resting the fabric in her in-elbow as she would with a shawl. Yet she was hot, a whole archery suit below her clothing added a fan in her hand. She hadn't spoken to Tara the whole day. Maybe it was just the busyness going on. Maybe Tara was just upset with her still.

Y/n took to staying outside until royals started to acculmate: ready for the games introductions. Wraithwood arrived earlier than other royals that were even staying in the castle.

Y/n bowed to the three.

"King of Wraithwood. Witch of Wraithwood." Y/n spoke, she looking at Dagda, "Prince of Wraithwood."

"Princess of Moonhaven." Mandrake and Ayana bowed, "Dagda."

"Princess of Moonhaven." Dagda bowed his head quickly.

Y/n smiled, "Im glad you found us hospititable enough to join us again."

"My brother enjoys people being put in there place." Ayana told, "What you did yesterday amused him."

Y/n chuckled, "I'm glad we were able to entertain then as well."

"Trust me. It was more than amusing." Ayana assured, "I quiet enjoyed it myself. So few men in the world, only boys. I hope my nephew has been polite to you in that sense."

"He has, thank you." Y/n informed.

"You have a different...dress today." Ayana pointed out.

"Ah. Yes." Y/n informed, "The queen sent a request in quiet a while ago-"

"You're meant to match Commander Ronin. Are you not?"

Y/n nodded, "Yes Ma'm."

"Do you have a knife under there?"

"I-"

"That's enough." Mandrake pushed his sister out the way.

"Fashion is everything to a woman." His sister argued.

"Since when were you a woman." Mandrake told.

"Excuse me?" Ayana spoke offended, "I've always been a woman."

"Says who? You? Might wanna look in the mirror."

"Listen here you little shit-"

And they started to bicker back at forth. They were siblings, after all. Her shoulder was grabbed softly, she feeling the nails set on her skin she turned to look at Dagda.

"Hey." Y/n smiled.

"Hi." He smiled back, "You... like the cloak?"

Y/n nodded, the smile never faultering, "Reminds me of the good times we've had so far, plus it's cozy."

Noticing the fan in her hand, he had to comment: "If you're too warm. You don't have to wear it, you won't hurt my feelings."

"I'd wear it on the hottest days." Y/n answered, "because its from you."

Dagda grew silent, flustered even as Y/n still smiled at him: she never didn't smile at him, he was quick to change the subject.

"I have something for you." Dagda spoke quickly, "If. That is you'll take it."

"Dagda you didn't have to-"

One of his castle gaurds came over, box in hand.

"I..know you lost the quiver of your old set." Dagda commented, the gaurd opening it for him.

Y/n was frozen in her spot, "If you don't like it-"

Y/n looked down at the hand crafted bow a quiver beside it, sitting nicely in fresh picked cotton.

"Dagda...I...may I?"

Dagda could only nod in response as he watched her take out the bow.

"I know its not like your usual bow."

Y/n could only chuckle as she spotted two bow silencers on it, she remembered that conversation.

"Sets are always nicer..." Dagda tried to persuade her of liking it.

The carving was beautiful, one side carved of leaves and in the center a hummingbirds eye, the other of thorns and a crows eye.

"I tried to recreate your style-"

"Its perfect." Y/n spoke up, "Ah! It's beatiful!"

She cheered as she hugged him tightly, "Dagda its perfect! I couldn't ask for anything better! Thank you so much!"

He was so frozen in his spot that she pulled away before he could even hug her back.

"Y/n!" She was called.

"Its perfect." She repeated.

"Im...uh glad you like it-"

"Y/n!"

She pulled away, "I have to go- I'll see you out there-"

"Y/n!"

Y/n was too quick to rush off almost: "don't forget the quiver!"

She rushed back, her feet sliding to a stop to grab it from the box before thanking him again and giving him a rough kiss on the cheek in gratitude, and quickly rushing off.

He watched her running form, she running down the hall to Ronin.

"She kissed you-" Ayana spoke.

"Y... yeah..." he spoke, watching her slide to a stop at Ronin.

"I was what? Oh, right." Ayana told looking at her brother.

"Screw off." Mandrake grumbled.

Y/n was raced off quickly to meet with Queen Tara and Ronin. Something about game introductions or something, maybe it was about behavior. Yet Y/n was to invest in the feelings beneath her fingertips, her hands behind her back hiding the quiver and bow as she "listened" to Tara.

"I know I taught you different," Tara explained. She had been apologzing.

Tara contuined to talk, yet was receving no form of acknowledgement, "Y/n?"

"Mhm." Y/n nodded softly, her fingers running over the engraving of the crows eye, "I get it."

"You can tell me anything. Both of us, you know that." Tara told.

"Full honesty?" Y/n asked.

Tara nodded, "Please."

Y/n looked at Ronin and at Tara, "Wraithwood should be shooting in the games."

"That was a concil decision." Tara spoke, "I can not change that."

Y/n nodded, "Okay."

"Is...there anything else?" Tara asked.

Y/n shook her head no, "Come then. Let us be royals... again." Tara tried to joke but Y/n only nodded.

The spring games were always a festive time of friendly competition. Each kingdom out on there own leaf float carried by dragon flies showing there pride in there kingdoms flag.

Y/n sat besides a standing Ronin, on her other side Finn. The royals on each side of the Moonhaven royalty. Dagda had been watching her: bow and quiver he made her disappeared from her grasp, perhaps the queen had taken it from her.

"Exciting right!" Tara cheered.

"Mhm." Y/n hummed, causing Tara to frown.

It grew quiet between the two as each kingdom was introduced there people cheering, flags high.

Wraithwood's flag is nowhere to be seen, not in the parade, at least, she had remembered the raged ends that had seen combat marching it was towards the castle the other day.

"Sanchez is our hero this year." Ronin whispered to her, "I bet two dried honey combs we win."

Y/n looked at the woman that stood head of the Moonhaven float. She held her head proud with the post in hand: moonhavens flag flying. Her people cheered for her.

"I'll take that up." Y/n answered.

They were let into the water below, dragon flys let go and floats disbursed throughout the water.

Tara was soon to get up: ready to announce the beginning of the spring games in excitement the kingdoms together for fun and sportsmen ship. Ronin at her side just a step back.

"I'll be back." Y/n told Finn, she getting up and quickly leaving.

"What?-" Finn asked yet she had already left, he cursing under his breath, she'd have his head, "shit-"

And he rushed after her.

With the loud cheering the finishing of Tara's speech and her to return to her seat, she spotted Y/n's empty seat. She looking at Ronin, Finn was gone as well.

"Where did they go?" Tara asked.

Yet Ronin had no answer, yet an excuse, "water?"

Tara gave him a "really?" Look as he was quick to rush off to find the missing two.

The first game: archery: Moonhaven's opening game as it always had been. Moohaven given the luxury of the first shot.

Sanchez had always been a good shot, third in command. A married woman to a bakery woman somewhere in town, with two of her own kids.

Four targets, four shots.

One dead center, with two in the most inner ring and the last at the furthest outer ring.

Cheering clearly from Moon Haveners and clapping from the Royals.

"Not bad." Queen Misti commented.

"Sanchez is one of our top female archers." Tara informed.

"Mhm." Queen Misti hummed in acknowledgement, she watching the games intensely.

"And who is shooting for you Wraithwood?" King Rowan commented.

"Ignorance is not flattering." Ayana commented.

Yet before anyone from Noxis could argue back; they were up to shoot.

There second in command, a man with vitiligo, and with his family in the crowd: his newly pregnant wife and two twin daughters watching from the crowds.

"Its daddy!"

"I see. We gave him our luck today right we didnt forget?"

"Yes Mama!"

Two in the most inner ring, with the other two on the most outer rings.

Not truly know what was good besides hitting the target his daughters happily cheered from the side lines.

"Do all your women have this type of tounage?" King Rowan questioned.

"She will do as she pleases," Mandrake argued.

"Ah! My Son is up!" Queen Euthalia cheered standing up to clap for her child as he took position.

For everyones luck it killed the argument, and settled it for the moment.

Three centered and one in the inner ring, that would be a hard shot to beat.

"That's my boy!" She cheered, her husband trying to get her to sit back down with a light chuckle in his voice.

"He did so good!"

"Of course, he did dear, he's been practicing for a while now,"

She sat back down with a smile towards her husband.

Y/n watched from the crowd, she blending in easy with the people, after all her dress had been discarded, left in the stables uphill with the rat cloak over her shoulders and its opened mouth up top her head, the bow across her body and her quiver on her belt.

The commander of the People of the Glaze stood up to take her shots.

That's when Y/n started to move, people distracted by the flying arrows.

Unlike the other kingdoms, Wraithwoods tattered flag was back on land, all by its lonesome. Closing in on the lonesome flag crows perched on the treetops, hidden in their silence.

Nod had spotted her- finally, he couldn't do this, quickly he made his way through the people following her, he was able to catch her right before she even reached her hand out to grab the flag pole.

"Don't." Nod pleaded with her.

She turned her head, "Don't do it." He pleaded.

"Nod, I have to it's only fair,"

"Please just-" out the corner of his eye he spotted people walking his way; his people, "It's wrong- it isn't right-"

"Nod I-"

"Please!" he begged both his hands coming out to grab her hand, "You're a good person, I didn't believe it at first- but you changed my view, you do things out of love, genuine love! If you love Prince Dagda, you won't do it-"

He looked around, if he didn't leave now, he'd be killed, "Forgive me, please, I didn't want this, She-"

A round of applause cut him off, his mouth moving but she not hearing the words, and like that he looked around once more in worry and ran off as quick as he could. Leaving her to call his name and try and grab him back but he was too fast.

She looked back the flag post before grabbing the wooden pole and making her march.

"People of the United Kingdoms!" Tara announced to people, "I am proud to announce The Kingdom of the-"

Tara paused as she watched the Wraithwood's flag be walked; the singular entitiy by it's lonesome.

"A joke?" Prince Aalto commented with a chuckle, "I must say Queen Tara you have got me,"

Yet the calls of crows caught the ears of everyone, this was no joke.

"What is this? " King Constanine questioned, "Queen Tara-"

The person stopped, and Ronin ran out the stables doors, he high enough up on the hill to see what was happening below, that, and he had found Y/n's dressed discarded on the floor of an empty pen.

Y/n pulled down her hood, and the kingdom was full of gasp and murmurs of confusion.

She looking up at Tara's wide-eyed expression and tense shoulders.

What was Y/n doing?

"What is the world! Queen Tara what game is this!" King Rowan argued.

"People of the United Kingdoms!" Y/n announced to the crowd, "Moonhaven! The People of the Glaze! Kingdom Noxis! Northern Woods, Wraithwood! I am Princess Y/n of Moonhaven! And I will be shooting in Wraithwood's name!"

"Queen Tara!? This is insanity!"

"It's preposterous!"

"Your princess is filled with insanity!"

"Queen Tara you must do something about this!"

Standing in her shock she could only stare down at Y/n, what in the hell, what was her problem!? The look of shock started to drip with anger-

"You are not Wraithwood!" Mandrake stole the attention, "You cannot shoot for Wraithwood, every boggin knows the pride of there kill, this, is not there's if Moonhaven shoots."

A uproar from the boggins came; there pride clear, and loud.

"Then..." Y/n started with a soft voice, she taking in a deep breathe, before directing her sights on the boggins, she could spot Ronin on the move behind the crowds, "People of Wraithwood, I ask your permission!"

Looking back towards Mandrake and his sister, "King of Wraithwood! Witch of Wraithwood! I ask your permission!"

The grip on the flagpole tightened, as she looked over at Dagda, he had been watching her intently; and her foot slid back, and her body came down onto one knee, "Prince of Wraithwood, Prince Dagda I ask for your permission, and for you to give me the honor of not only allowing me to shoot for your kingdom..."

People stand on the edge of their seats; people holding there breathe, the wind standing still.

"...but to be part of it, by your hand in marriage!"

Another round of gasp and murmurs from the crowds.

"What!?"

"Queen tara!"

"Do something about this!"

"Please, Dagda!" Y/n announced, "I'd do anything for you, and I'd do anything for the people you love and the world you love!"

"Bold." Mandrake commented to his son, who was still stuck in shock, "I like her."

"Father!" Dagda scolded.

"You may. Attempt!" Mandrake told, "I am not so easily impressed as my son!"

"What?!" Tara snapped, looking back at Mandrake, "I understand the delusions of a child, but agreement to this!"

"You have raised her." Ayana defended her brother, "You should be proud of such a display,"

"This is insanity!" King Constantine argued, "Queen Tara please- You know this is wrong-"

Yet cheering stole the royals attention as Y/n took her first shot.

Dead center.

Forbidden love announced to the world took some guts, a good show of archery was an added bonus.

She walked up to Moonhaven's spot, Sanchez taking a step back with an approving nod.

"Not bad at all Princess."

"What was I supposed to do? Wait around for him to do it?" Y/n answered, causing Sanchez to chuckle, and Y/n quick to take stance once again.

Ronin went to shout for her; his plan to order to her to a hault. Yet a civilian came up beside him, another leafman on the other side and he was hit on the temple with the end of a sword, the two quickly dragging him off to hide.

Another shot to the center.

The Kingdom of Noix's commander was glad to step out for her, it angered king Rowan even more.

"Good luck, marriage, it's a... curse, but mostly a blessing," He told her in a playful tone, "I wish you the best Princess, may the light guide your arrow,"

Y/n bowed her head in response, he only doing the same as she took position, bow up, and arrow knocked, she pulled back and released.

Centered once again.

Cheers from the crowd, as she moved onto the final target, her fourth an final shot.

Yet Atticus wouldn't move, and he wore an expression of anger on his face, thing is he had seemed mad since Y/n went missing from the royal box, plans ruined.

"Watch what you do next Princess," Atticus snapped.

"Watch what you say to my people," Y/n spoke calmly, receiving a snarled expression in response from the Prince in front of her, "Sorry? Have I been unladylike my Prince? Perhaps you'd wish for me to drop on my knees in forgiveness?"

She shoved him out the way with a strong solider; he grabbing her arm, "Never send someone else to do your fucking work-"

Y/n froze in her spot, a foreign feeling in her stomach as she was shoved back by him.

"People of the Untied Kingdoms!" Prince Atticus announced, "This is who you look up too!? What pitty!"

She fell to her knees, holding her stomach as the blood pooled in her hands.

"Princess Y/n!"

Yet anyone that tried to make a move was held at sword and arrow point.

"A shame!" Prince Atticus spoke, "This is you're Princess Moonhaven!?

She was grabbed by her hair and turned towards the crowds.

"y/n!" Tara shouted for her, yet she was grabbed by her hair, and pulled back into the chair, a sword coming up to her neck.

Finn hand a grip on her hair, and tigght.

"Queen Tara!"

Yet a mix of the kingdom's soldiers dropped down, they forcing everyone back into their seats.

Atticus laughed, "Ah! Who am I kidding! I suppose I'm just a bit angry from not being invited! After all! My kingdom wasn't invited to the celebration- Last time I even brought a gift! You remember that! Don't you my son! King Mandrake of Wraithwood! What was her name? What was it...oh...that little whore from Moonhaven-"

"She's dead." Ayana commented, "There's no way-"

"Winslet!" Atticus commented with a smile, "Little old Winslet-"

It was sudden the arrow once on the ground; she had dropped it once Atticus had shoved her, was in Y/n's hand, and suddenly drug across Atticus face causing him to drop her hair and her to fall on her side.

What was once the face of a Prince was stripped away, Atticus replaced with a woman; a web of fungi across her eyes and down to her mouth that stretch as she groveled in pain for a moment. She ripped the arrow from her cheek; Fungi quick to weave its way over the injury, and Y/n was quickly swung at she swiped across the face with a slap so hard it sent her back to the floor.

"Now...Where was I?" She contuined, "ah. Right. To show no malintent towards your people. I brought...gifts."

Dragged from mainland to the front and center lily pads Nod, the real Nod, battered and brusied was tossed down.

"Nod?"

He groaned as he looked over at her.

"And...apologizes for my people. They can't help a gem when they find it,"

Finn was tossed down next, he looking worse than Nod, he filled with cuts and brusises, with a dried bloody nose.

"Finn..."

He looked over at her, but the expression he wore told her even glancing at her hurt.

"N/n..." he smiled weakly at her, just to be kicked in the stomach.

"No! Don't hurt him!" Y/n argued.

There was silence from the woman, "Hm...alright."

Y/n looked up at her in a confused matter, so easily deterred?

"Bring me...." she thought looking around, "ah...yes. that one."

Y/n looked up at Ayana, who was quickly grabbed from the royal box by the enemy gaurd, a growth of fungi and mold growing a path down towards the edge of the lily pads.

"Let her go!" Mandrake ordered.

"Get off me!" Ayana demanded but was grabbed by the back of her neck and dragged down the slanted path.

As she was dragged along the lily pads Y/n tried to get up, a soilder dropping her back into place with the kick of the back of her knees and the pulling of both her wrist together and above her head.

Ayana was forced to kneel infront of Y/n, and at her mother's whim.

"Give it here boy."

A sword was passed between the two, "No...No. No! Please, please don't - "

It was a quick movement, hair pulled back and Ayana was sliced across her throat.

Tears ran down Y/n's face, and as simple as that Ayana's lifeless body as kicked to the waters.

The screaming in the background was devastating to anyone that could hear it: Mandrake had just lost his sister to their own mother.

Y/n was picked up by her hair by the mother again, taken from the gaurd once holding her.

"I thought you had more bite. Shame."

The world froze, the distant call for pleads to stop and of her name faint to the ear, her throat had been slit, and she had been dropped to the lily pad below her feet.

If it wasn't blood curleding enough from Mandrake, Tara joined in: screaming for Y/n to come back: this was just a bad dream. Others were dazed, the scream from Tara the ringing in there ears as

"Take the royals inside. I want a tour of my new kingdom. Lock people in homes, Set them on fire if you wish, I don't care." The Mother ordered.

"Yes My Queen." A gaurd responded, he quick to give orders.

"Y/n..." Dagda could barely speak, shocked, what was once a marriage proposal was now a funeral, he dragged with the other royals back inside.

"You're a fucking Monster!" Nod shouted, "A monster!"

The Mother kicked Y/n into the water to let her sink, she walking up to a cursing Nod, a solider picking him up to his knees.

"You're a fucking monster!" Nod shouted.

"Drag him away," She ordered watching the boy be dragged away.

"Nothing to say? Hm? Or have I robbed you of your balls too-"

He spat at her, a mixture of blood and saliva hit her cheek - her reaction: the third victim to the throat slice and bottom of the pond.

"No backbone in these people." She sighed, "Guard."

"Yes, my queen."

"Grab the bodies from the pond. Drain them," she ordered, "I hate good wine to go to waste."

"Yes, My queen."

The mother walked off; off towards the Moonhaven castle as the crying of children being torn away from their parents, families being separated and forced in different directions.

Like music to her ears.

Flint walked around, avoiding groups of people and gaurds alike, he making his way towards the water: the facade of Nod gone, and replaced with a veil of mold and fungi over his eyes and some past his nose, his dim purple eyes scoured around carefully, before getting behind a rock and diving into the water.

Dagda was forced down the hallway, and he separated from his father, grouped with the other royal children.

Imbreg had started to cry, her arms around Dagda and face hidden in Dagda's side, most of the younger children had clung to him in fear.

"Its okay. It'll be okay." He told the kids, he carrying Imbreg and holding her close, "I've got you shh..."

They were forced and locked in Y/n's room. Well...what was Y/n's room.

"Dagda what do we do?" Imbreg asked looking up at him.

"Hey. We're gonna be alright." Dagda told her, he looking down at rhe younger children, "Right? We're gonna be okay? We're together. That...That's what makes us strong!"

"We're waiting to be drained of our Blood." Aalto answered he taking a seat against the wall, "Its what their people do. What your people do."

Dagda glared at him, "This isnt my fault-"

"Your right its mine I should have struck you down when I first saw you." Aalto argued, "Your head would have made a good stepping stool. We wouldn't have been in this mess if Wraithwood just died."

"Would you shut up!" Jaal argued.

"Me?" Aalto snapped standing up in his anger.

"Yes You! This whole time you just dont shut the fuck up!"

"Oh? And you did a real good job at that when Y/n shut you down did you!?"

"I was only rude to her to not have to marry her!" Jaal argued, "You know that!"

"What so you can go with that deaf whore!-"

Jaal was quick to move, and slap Aalto across the face.

"Call Maralin that again and I'll rip your head from your neck!" Jaal snarled, grabbing Aalto by his face roughly, "At least I ain't an artificial cuck! At least be real before you start runnin' your mouth."

Aalto could only glare at Jaal, who only held his eye contact, his gaze intense and deep, yet finally Jaal tossed Aalto's head to the side, releasing his grip.

"Fuck you." Aalto grumbled, rubbing his jaw.

Jaal turned towards Dagda, "I'll follow you."

Dagda nodded, "thank you."

What was he supposed to do? Children in hand and one other capable solider at hand? It would be wise to split up.

What would Y/n do?

"Aalto will take the children, sneak out-"

"I'm not listening to you," Aalto spoke.

"Then you'll be fresh wine." Jaal informed, "I'll sneak the kids out,"

"Get them into Wraithwood, hide them with the moles," Dagda ordered.

"I'll come back to help,"

"No- Get the people out, I can handle...whatever that lady is," Dagda told; "Y/n would put her people before her, she did the same for my people, it's right to return the favor-"

Dagda looked around, spotting the window, "Take the window,"

"How do we get them all down? It's too far to catch them,"

"Just...Let me think."

Flint pulled Y/n's limp body from the water's, her neck sliced, if she hadn't died from the blood loss she died from the drowing.

He dragged her from the water, and quickly up to dry land, he hovering over her deceased body, "no...no no..."

He was quick to pull a knife from his side, he lifting the knife to his face, pulling on the veil of fungi he took in a deep breathe, biting his lower lip before making a quick slice, he wincing as the fresh air hit the wound, little droplets of blood dripping onto Y/n's face and neck as he worked. He was quick to cut a thin vein from the fungus and slip it into the cut in Y/n's neck.

With a fresh source, the fungus took over quickly; the veins of her neck turned dark, and the thinnest vein was weaving her skin closed. With the wound closed it traveled up her neck, and all the way up to her cheek bone, it would spread more with time-

Y/n started to choke, Flint sighing in relief as she rolled over, coughing up water trapped in her lungs.

"Hey- Hey-"

she turned her head before pushing back at him, and his helping hand; "Look, we don't have much time-"

"Someone's over here!"

"Get em!"

"Come on!" Flint argued grabbing her arm and helping her to her feet before running off with her, back into the water, where they quickly hid low enough behind a large rock.

"This way!"

The soldiers continued there run after intruders as she peaked out; not Moon haven soldier's from the color pallet alone she could tell that.

Then it hit her, she turned back towards the young man, he gesturing for her to be quiet and follow him, she did. From the water and quickly up the path to the hummingbird stables.

Up in the stables where they were given a moment to breathe; she did so deeply; feeling a lump stuck in her neck she held it, and quickly rushed to a full trough of water, shocked by her complexation, shocked at what had grown across her neck. Just to look over at the young man who was breathing heavy still.

"You did this?" She asked him.

He just nodded quickly; "I did enough bad by you; and you did nothing but treated me with kindness...it'll spread; like all fungus does..."

"What is it?"

"Cordyceps...mostly." He responded, "Within the hour you'll be in moderate control to the Queen...she has to die before that."

"Why me" Y/n spoke.

"I may be her offspring; but I can't fight, not her." he started, "She has the kings and queens of the seasons in the throne room, kids locked up in your room...but you asked why..."

He was quiet, his lips once in a straight line frowned: "I set you up...I pulled you through this...I...it gets a hold on people. She gets a hold on people. It's not just the rot and fungus she infects you with... that...I...infected you with...its...bigger than just what she's made of..."

Y/n was silent, "Where's Ronin?"

"Dungeon, along with Nod" He answered, "And the other leafmen."

"Finn?"

He was quiet, "...I... he...and... Witch Ayana...are dead, by her hand...I'm sorry."

Y/n closed her eyes to gather her thoughts and forgive those who she had failed.

"Any civilians?'

"Dungeons and locked in homes; she's plan on burning them down givin' enough time. Injuries, but not casualties, not yet. She'll let them seep in fear."

Y/n was silent in thought.

"you're bow," He spoke, pulling them from there hiding spot; bows and arrows, her quiver still tied to her despite her previous state.

She grabbed the bow from him, and filled the quiver.

"And a sword." he spoke, handing her the weapon: Ronin's sword.

She took it, "thanks." And slipped it into her belt.

"I'll support you in any way I can." He told her.

Y/n looked at him; "Can you get Finn and Witch Ayana like me?"

Flint shook his head, "They were taken by the Queen...for wine..."

"If I stopped her,"

He nodded, "they'd have to have their head and attached to the spinal cord, it's the root of how the fungus will spread."

"Alright, listen to me, the kids are safe in my room, I'll storm the throne room-"

"You can't go head on she has guards-"

"Then from the back windows," Y/n adjusted her plan, "Get everyone from the dungeon, then get them to get civilians out,"

"Her forces haven't reached Wraithwood."

"Perfect. Get them there." Y/n ordered, "I'm trusting you..."

"Flint." He introduced himself.

"I'm trusting you Flint, do not fail me."

"Yes Ma'am."

He was quick to split ways with her, and she was quick to make her way out of the stables.

"I have to say Queen Tara," The Mother spoke, "I quiet like your changes to the place, last time I was here- the last queen, she was.... something else. And that is not a compliment."

Tara struggled against her confines, arms wrapped up and bound to the person next to her; rott and fungus slowly creeping up her arms.

"Ronin will kill you," Tara threatened.

"Ronin?" The Mother laughed, "The Lioheart!? Hah!"

She took a seat in Tara's throne, "To be honest queen Tara I was expecting you to be the challenge, or atleast my dear old son."

Mandrake growled at her, "That's what happens when you mate with a bitch I presume." She argued.

"My now dead husband was always a push over, I mean. I killed him as soon as I knew Mandrake was on the way, not my cleanest job. But that-"

She gestured towards the rot and fungus climbing up Tara's arm.

"That's something I'm proud of Cordyceps, took quiet a while to perfect, not only will you all be mine within the hour It's stopping- well, you. The challenge. "

"Then I'll kill you-" Mandrake threatened, which only caused her to laugh.

"You!? The cross breeding bitch?" She started laughing, getting up to make her way towards him, before kneeling; "But how can I blame you? At least your little whore has a spine- well, had, before I killed her and ripped it out,"

"I rip your spine out myself!-"

She slapped him across the face before she grabbed him by his ear, "Is that any way to talk to your mother, boy? I should drain you of what blood you have, but I don't drink cheap."

She tossed his face to the side roughly as he glared at her. Tara struggling against the restraints thats connected them.

"My queen."

She turned her head: four gaurds, two to a body dragging in the deceased Finn and Ayana.

"What perfect timing. I was just getting thirsty."

Flint walked passed gaurds and soilders, eyes gazed down, his goal the basement and then below that the dungeon. The trek down the long flight of spiral stairs was unbothered and was silent.

He opened the heavy door to the dungeon allowing the shouting and laughing to be heard.

"Let me go!"

"Aw! A pretty little thing like you? Why should I?"

Flint walked down the short hall, filled cells on each side, gaurds mostly and in the center of the room was his brother Grunt and some of his friends messing with a younger soilder, he most likely barely made rank.

"Whattya say boys? Im a single man-" Grunt laughed.

"Let him go."

"Oh here comes killjoy..." Grunt's friend grumbled.

The soilder turned around: the facade of Finn dropped and replaced with a half veiled face of web - just like the others built of rot and cordicypus. His skin slightly more rotted and infected than Flint's, after all he was the warrior of the two.

"I've got this. Don't worry." Grunt laughed to his friends pushing the young leafman into there arms where they held his arms, "Throw em back-"

"Let him go." Flint repeated.

"Got a spine finally Flint?" Grunt laughed, Flint gulping in response, as his brother started to approach, "I. I said let him go!"

"I. I. I-" Grunt mocked, the leafman being thrown back into one of the full cells, "What? You'll do what!? Tell Me Flint, what's a punny peice of shit like you gonna do?"

"I." Flint tried to muster, taking a step back, "I..."

Flint looked around for an answer, finding the dagger on his brothers belt, "I'll stab you!"

Grunt paused, then broke out laughing; "You. You'll stab me?! With what?! Hm? You're nails? Or those pens and scrolls you use all day?!"

Flint was quiet as Grunt could only continue to laugh at him; he turning back towards his friends, "Can you believe this? He thinks he's gonna do something-"

With quick movement Flint grabbed the dagger from his brother's belt, and Grunt grabbed his wrist quickly, "Wow, spines finally coming in?"

"Let go!" Flint argued trying to pull himself away from his brother's grasp, but with a failed attempt, he restored to the second best a kick to the gut.

It surprised Grunt, he losing his grip and quickly being jumped upon, "You fucking pyscho!-"

Stab in the neck, Grunt collapsed, Flint pulling the blade out to drive it in again. The other two watched in fear, when had the younger brother become so violent?

Finally, with a deep cut and slice, Grunt's head was removed, the sound of his spine splitting in two caused someone in the the stall to hurl into a corner.

Flint looked up from his mess and wiped what blood was on his face to his bloodied hands, they rushing from the dungeon and out to the stairs and looked along the men and women soilders. The boy he was once impersonating no where to be seen and neither was the man who had tried so hard to keep Moonhaven safe.

"Where's Nod," Flint asked looking around, "Where's Ronin?"

"They took em, both em." A woman replied, "Somethin' about wine."

Flint was quick to open up the cells, "Where!" He ordered.

"To you're queen,"

Y/n scaled the castle wall; the glass that faced and framed the throne Tara once sat in was dark and accompanied by the Mother.

She watched her get up; and following her footsteps she spotted the royals, Tara and Mandrake bound together by the same fungus that was growing rapidly across her neck and face, by now it had traveled down to her elbow.

A group of guards stole the woman's attention, and with them they dragged the corpses of Ayana and Finn.

"Bring me a glass, crack open the girls headfirst," She ordered, returning to her spot in front of Mandrake, who was eye wided, staring at his sister's body which laid eyes facing him, so carelessly discarded by their own mother.

"Don't do this-" Mandrake begged looking at his mother; "Please!"

She only looked down at him; "Please!"

"Bring my son a glass as well," She ordered returning to the throne.

She sat; and the stained glass that framed the throne from behind was broken, Y/n sword in hand, flew through open air, arms and hand cut by flying glass. She landed up top the throne, it knocked over as the woman had moved too quick. stepping back and creating distance between the two. Y/n was quick to step over the fallen chair and the circling began.

"Didn't I kill you?" The woman snapped, she grabbing a sword from one of the guard's sheaths as she passed, they started to pace a circle.

"Don't you know who I am?" Y/n argued back; "You think you could kill me?"

The woman growled at her, tip of the sword dragging along the shiny floor, that mark forever engrained in the stone.

"Then again, who did I think you were?" Y/n spoke, "You had to send someone else to do your bidding, didn't you?"

"When you're as powerful as me, it fun to watch people squabble in fear of getting things done," The woman argued.

"Sounds like your too pussy to even own up to it," Y/n answered.

It was a movement of impulse- full of anger and rage; she'd teach Y/n her truth strength; swords clashed as Y/n blocked the womans oncoming attack. Y/n was quick to push her off to the left, punching the woman clean across the face and off to the side.

The woman coughed and felt her mouth; fresh blood ran down her lips, and feeling the stream it came from her nose.

Y/n turned back on her; ready to attack, yet she was blocked, the woman swinging at her quickly and heavy, she having a hard time keeping up with the harsh attacks as metal clashed against each other hard. It forced Y/n back, back towards the throne, and back towards the small set of steps that lead up to them, she stepped back, slipping on the stone, sending her to the ground, a swords tip pointed towards her.

"What a shame," The woman argued, "I was having fun- maybe I'll let you live, controlling you will be fun,"

Y/n glared at her, the door opening off to the side as heads turned, "Ah! What perfect timing!" In they dragged Nod and Ronin, they battered and bruised, and barely managing to keep their eyes open, and in behind them, a Moon haven Castle Worker, shaking as he brought in classes on a fancy try; behind him a woman, screw tap in hand and a bucket. Y/n looked up at the woman, this woman wasn't actually- was she?

"Oh, please darling, don't give me that face," She spoke, smirking, "How about this, we'll crack open Tara's head! Fresh while she's alive! All in your name!"

#x reader #x female reader #female reader #epic 2013 #fanfic #epic 2013 x reader #epic 2013 fanfic #dagda x female reader #dagda epic 2013

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twst-drabbles · 2 years ago

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Heartslabyul 4

Summary: The seeds at Sam’s shop were on sale. You figured that would be a fun time for the plant nymphs, so you took them there. Let’s hope they don’t go over the budget.

“And, off you go,” Like a pack of dogs being held back by leashes, you loosened your grip and watch as Ace, Deuce, Cater and even Trey skitter across the floor. They made straight for the little shelves packed neatly with little bags of seeds. All of them had little slashes over the original prices. A sales day.

“Look at those little imps go,” Sam almost sighed in wonder, but then looked down to the roseling still on your shoulders, “Oh? What’s wrong? Is the sale not to your liking?”

“Nope,” you said, slowly getting up so as to not make Riddle fall, ”Riddle likes to pretend he has more class than the rest of them.“

“Pretend?” Sam hopped over to your side.

“Just look at him.” You gestured to Riddle. His arms may be crossed, but his eyes kept shifting to the packets of white rose seeds. One little foot would shift its weight to the other. Just so he doesn’t fidget himself off, you swiped it off the shelf and handed it to him. “Here you go.”

Riddle squeaked, holding the packet high in the air before you heard the telltale sound of something ripping.

“No,” you pressed on Riddle’s head, “patience. I have to buy them first.” You looked out to the shelves before you, spotting Ace carrying at least eight colorful packages of seeds upon his back, Deuce with only two, Cater pushing a huge pile with his clones, and Trey with his modest one, “Don’t go opening them yet! I have see if I can afford them.”

You probably can, you have a decent amount of money left over but still, you like to have a healthy portion in case of some disaster. Better to be safe than sorry.

“Seems our little customers have spoken!” Sam clapped his hands and winked, “Let me just ring them up for you.”

“Wait a minute!” You waved him down, “I need to check.”

It’s your money you’re spending. Besides, too many seeds means they’re gonna try and expand the garden beyond your walls. You don’t want them potentially getting into any territory fights with any of the local wildlife.

You crouched down when the little servant plant nymphs made it to your feet. Out of annoyance, you poked Ace and Cater on their heads.

“You both have no self-control. My backyard doesn’t have enough room for all those flowers.” Nemophilias, marigolds, petunias, iberis, hepaticas, foxgloves, heleniums, orchids, not to mention all the various color varieties they got. Really, that’s just too much. “Pick five and put the rest back. Deuce, Trey, you can get more seeds if you want. You too Riddle.”

Ace, with all the anger that can be packed in that tiny body, stomped his little foot. Cater took a different route and gave you his best watery eyes. Even made a clone of his start to weep as though your words were the very definition of cruelty. You just gave Deuce and Trey pats on the head, gently encouraging them to get more seeds.

Though, Trey actually shook his head. Instead of looking back on the shelves to find more, he tugged on your finger, ready to get back on your shoulder. You let him, chuckling when he planted his butt down and shuffled in. He placed his packet of gerberas on his lap, already ready to go home.

You gave Riddle your hand to hop on before setting him on the floor. While Ace and Cater begrudgingly slide their pile across the floor, Riddle looked back to you with his packet hugged to his body. Well, as best he could, the thing was too wide for his small self. You nudged your head towards the shelves. Riddle practically jumped into the air before running off, leaving a small trail of rose petals and pollen behind.

“He’s excited,” you mumbled as you stood. You stretched and popped your back. “So, how’s your day been Sam?”

You’re going to be here a bit. Might as well make small talk.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #heartslabyul #riddle #riddle rosehearts #trey #trey clover #cater #cater diamond #ace #ace trappola #deuce #deuce spade #house pet au #reader insert

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gingerjunhan · 2 years ago

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love me not - lee jooyeon

☆彡 I case you missed it, requests box are now open! If you would like to make a request, use my ask box. To see my guidelines, click here!

synopsis: you go on a picnic date with your boyfriend

word count: 536 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: mentions of eating, let me know if I missed any

You had finally convinced Jooyeon to go on one of those cute picnic dates with you, and everything was going exactly how you imagined.

The weather was perfect; sunny with a slight breeze. The flowers and trees in the park you were sitting in seemed to be in full bloom, and the food was delicious. After the mess you and Jooyeon had made in your kitchen this morning while preparing your basket of goodies, you were a little concerned about how the food would taste.

“It’s because I made it with love,” Jooyeon told you with a proud smile. “That’s why it turned out so good.”

Jooyeon was now off roaming the park somewhere, and you were enjoying yourself as you laid on your picnic blanket and soaked in the sun. Your moment of peace, however, was interrupted when your boyfriend came running back towards you.

“Y/N! Y/N! I have something for you!” Jooyeon sat down on the edge of the picnic blanket with one of his hands behind his back. “Close your eyes!”

You rolled your eyes and laughed lightly at him, immediately giving into his antics and closing your eyes.

“Okay… open!”

When you opened your eyes, Jooyeon was presenting a small bouquet of all of the different flowers that could be seen in the park. You smiled brightly at him.

“Jooyeon! They’re so pretty!”

“I picked them myself!” He sounded like a kid, the way he bragged about how he hand picked each of the flowers for you. It was hard to deny the blush that the gesture left on your cheeks.

“Thank you, honey. I love them.” You pulled Jooyeon in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, causing him to blush now as well.

You looked over your bouquet, admiring each individual flower that he has picked. One of which was a small blue flower, which you pulled out from the bunch, setting the rest of the flowers aside on the blanket. Jooyeon watched as you analyzed the flower before taking one of its small petals between your fingers and pulling it out.

“He loves me,” you dropped the petal into the grass just off the edge of your blanket. You plucked out another, “He loves me not.”

Jooyeon watched your face as you made your way around the flower, as if the outcome of your entire relationship relied on nothing but these little blue petals.

“He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.”

Jooyeon felt like he was holding his breath as each petal that fell to the grass. Three more.

“He loves me.”

Two.

“He loves me not.”

One.

You smiled up at Jooyeon as you pulled the last petal out of the now bare center of the flower. “He loves me.”

A smile took over your boyfriend’s face as he looked from what was left of the flower to you. He then cupped a hand over your cheek, leaning in until his lips met yours.

“Thank goodness it didn’t end on a love me not,” Jooyeon stated once you both had pulled away.

You tilted your head at him, “Why’s that?”

“I really wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

#xdinary heroes imagine #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh x reader #xdh fluff #xdh imagines #jooyeon x reader

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edupunkn00b · 2 years ago

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The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 15: Live to Tell

Prev - Live to Tell - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3378 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, non-graphic discussions of abuse

Janus depositions Logan in preparation for their court battle with Kelly. He tells Janus everything. Well, nearly everything. Everything relevant, Logan is certain.

I have a tale to tell Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well I was not ready for the fall Too blind to see the writing on the wall

A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned 'Til then, it will burn inside of me - Live to Tell, Madonna

Roman stayed until Saturday afternoon. They spent the night on the couch, talking and… to be honest, each had dozed a bit, as well. Logan had fallen asleep first, warm and safe, wrapped in Roman's arms, holding him just as closely. The next morning, the boys didn’t question Roman’s presence and simply greeted him like he belonged there.

Despite his worries, they’d had a blissful weekend together, with cake and leftovers for breakfast, and a thrift store hunt for books and Doctor Who DVDs later in the day. Saying goodbye to Roman had been difficult, with wild fantasies of making a permanent space for him flitting through Logan's mind. But Remy's scheme to meet up the next weekend for the movie gave them all something to look forward to.

Remy’s housemate Emile came by Sunday afternoon after spending the weekend with his parents and they’d all fumbled their way through making sushi with the kit the boys had given him for his birthday. Emile had even gifted him a little matcha tea set, the sakura petals on the bamboo finish perfectly matching the kit from his sons.

By Sunday night, Remy, Virgil, and Emile had driven back up to Bellingham, and Logan had dropped off Patton at Kelly’s for her week with him. Neither had mentioned the papers.

He took his time getting ready for bed, drawing out the rote tasks. He flossed twice, refilled the hand soap bottles, changed out the towels in all the bathrooms. The weekend’s busyness, his sons’ laughter filling the house—and, thanks to Roman, his own—had pushed away his worries about Kelly’s filing and Monday’s deposition with Janus.

Now that he was alone again, it was impossible to think about anything else.

More times than he wanted to admit, he’d picked up his phone, tapping open his ongoing chat with Roman, and tried to imagine what he would say if he invited him over. Twice, he’d even started to type out the message, but no matter how he worded it, his request sounded… disrespectful. Dirty. Hey, Ro, my sons aren’t home. Wanna come over?

Shaking his head, he went downstairs to finish the laundry he’d neglected that weekend. Once that was done, he moved on to strip all the beds and, in a few loads, had washed all the sheets and blankets. By the time he’d folded the last comforter, still warm and smelling like that Saturday Roman had found him at the laundromat, the first birds had begun their morning calls. Logan made his bed, brewed a fresh pot of coffee, then stood in front of the kitchen window to watch the sunrise slowly open the blooms in his flower box.

When the bottom edge of the sun cleared the horizon, Logan rinsed his cup and got ready for work. If he left soon, he could take the bus in and not need to worry about the traffic over the bridge.

“A little odd to be on the other side of one of these, isn’t it?” Janus remarked as he sat across from him in his office. He tried not to listen when Janus asked Beatrice to ensure they weren’t disturbed, though he’d appreciated the way Janus had asked him to bring a stack of files from his office as a subtle subterfuge.

“More than a little,” he nodded.

Humming, Janus flipped through folders on his desk. “I see from the proceedings you represented yourself—”

“You have my court records?” Logan interrupted, eyes wild as he tried to recall what other information might be hidden away in those files.

Janus looked up, a faint frown wrinkling his brow. “I’m your attorney.”

“Right, yes, of course… I—I don’t mean…” He looked down at his hands. Janus was certain to rescind the Assistant AIC offer after all of this. This was even worse than the review of his Q-Law cases.

“Did you consult with anyone?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I… took care of it. Kelly was the petitioner. She… It was… I just wanted it done.”

Logan wasn’t sure if Roman had warned him or not, but Janus started very slowly with the rest of his questions, building out a chronological list of events in their marriage and separation. He captured the boys’ names and birthdays—they’d been redacted from the court record. They talked a bit about Virgil’s birth and his surgeries. Logan even told Janus how Virgil’s genetic screening had showed a hereditary component to the defect in his diaphragm. He admitted how, afterward, he’d had his own genome screened and confirmed he carried the gene.

Janus didn’t ask for more details, so he let the rest of that thread drop.

Instead, he began to ask about the… quality of his relationship with Kelly. Logan bit the inside of his cheek, fighting for control. He’d just managed to win a sliver of respect from his boss. He couldn’t… He couldn’t just throw that all away with some overly emotional reaction.

“We… we disagreed on…” Logan sucked in a slow breath, forcing his twitching hands to calm. Janus’ eyes flicked down to his lap and made a note in the margin of his yellow legal pad. “On a few important things about the boys.” He shrugged, “Like all married people, I suppose.”

He nodded slowly, writing without taking his eyes off of Logan’s expression. “Your parents… disagreed a lot?”

In one breath, Logan was back in his parents’ old rambler in Oregon. He sat on his closet floor, making flashcards, a heavy AP History textbook open on his lap. Surrounded by hanging clothes, with his blanket shoved against the gap at the bottom, his father’s shouted words and his mother’s occasional responses were muffled and difficult to make out.

But the tones were unmistakable. And far too familiar.

Logan couldn’t stop his hands from shaking so he crossed his arms over his belly, gripping and releasing the sides of his shirt. “Excellent motivation to get a scholarship to UW and move out on my own,” he said, an attempt at levity. His voice cracked at the end and Janus simply made another note on his legal pad.

Janus tapped the end of his pen against his lips and went quiet. Logan had observed him cross examine reticent witnesses often enough to have seen this tactic of his before. Given enough time under his ‘I have all day, how about you?’ gaze, even other attorneys who knew it was coming would start to sweat and say anything to fill the silence.

Logan was well practiced at holding his tongue.

“You were married for…” Janus flipped back to the front page and did the math. “Eighteen years.” Faster than Logan had expected, he’d moved on to the ‘I already know everything, you might as well answer my questions’ stage. “This is difficult. Difficult to talk about, difficult to re-experience,” he said, his voice softer than Logan had braced himself for and his eyes darted up, an unfamiliar expression on his boss’ face. “Believe me, I understand.”

He nodded, then lowered his head and waited for Janus' next question, shields up and ready.

“Talk to me, Logan.” Without seeing his face, it almost sounded like a plea. “What made you finally decide to divorce?”

Eyes closed to avoid the inevitable ridicule on Janus’ expression, Logan forced a slow, deep breath. Still, his voice shook shamefully when he spoke. “How much of this has Roman already told you?”

“None." Logan looked up, the honesty in Janus' voice too strong to ignore. “Roman can be a bit of a drama king—”

“Excuse me?” Logan’s voice was sharper than he’d intended but instead of looking angry at his interjection, Janus merely looked surprised and… pleased?

“As is my Remus,” he said, the tone of that ‘my’ hanging in the air, as though he noted some other parallel between the brothers. Janus’ smile morphed into a bit of a smirk. “As am I, so I’ve been told.” Janus watched his reaction with interest and for a moment, Logan could have sworn his boss was about to add him to his list of ‘drama kings.’ Logan looked down and smoothed his tie for the sake of having somewhere else to look. “Personally, I think the world could use more drama kings,” he continued. “You never need doubt where you stand with us.”

Speak for yourself, Logan thought but did not say.

“Regardless.” Janus grew serious. “Unless you asked him to tell me something personal you’d shared with him, Roman would not breathe a word of it.” He lowered his legal pad. “And, aside from a very short list of legally required disclosures, the same is true for me. Your secrets are safe.”

He pinched his sides, a distraction from the tears already burning the backs of his eyes. Janus waited, but when Logan didn’t speak for several long moments, he prodded. “To do my job, Logan, I need to know everything.”

Logan deflated, the last shreds of his pride spooled in a tangled mess on the floor. “I know,” he sighed.

“Was it more than 'disagreements' between you?” Janus asked again, even softer this time.

Logan’s bottom lip trembled, but the harder he tried to control it, the worse it got. He nodded and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Much more.”

Eighteen years of practicing law plus two decade’s worth of his own personal experiences had muted Janus’ expressiveness in the face of misery. Remus worked hard to ensure it was a mask he could drop, that he had spaces where he was free to cry and shout and stumble and laugh. His husband spent an inordinate amount of energy and love ensuring he would not be swallowed up and consumed by his jaded attorney façade.

Janus clung to that jadedness now, letting it carry him as he fought to keep a mostly neutral expression while Logan recounted the gradual descent from storybook romance to a narrow escape from Hansel and Gretel’s witch.

It was a familiar story. While Q-Law received most of its funding from its flashier cases, the national attention garnered through their work on major legislation, fancy galas, and private benefactors, from a caseload perspective, a plurality of their work was in family law. Domestic violence cases in particular. Q-Law was there to serve a need in the queer community and, tragically, that’s where the greatest need lay.

What made this story different for Janus was he didn’t need to ask if anyone at his client’s workplace had the faintest inkling of just how bad, just how dangerous his home life had been.

Janus had had none.

Shame bubbled in his chest as Roman’s tight-lipped admonition ran laps through his mind. ‘Maybe you don’t actually know him as well as you think you do.’ This interview proved he most certainly did not.

He turned to a fresh page. “And which of these injuries did you actually seek care for?” Logan curled in on himself, the implied accusation harsh even to Janus’ ears. “That came out wrong, I’m sorry. I simply wish to retrieve hospital records,” he said.

“Do you—” Logan shivered and Janus checked the thermostat. The office was set to 71°F. “Do you really think that will be necessary?”

He frowned and sat back in his chair. Janus was accustomed to clients, particularly DV clients, demonstrating resistance to reliving and retreading these parts of their lives. But Logan was a lawyer. A lawyer who, thanks to his now explainable eagerness to pick up so many of the toughest DV cases, was arguably the most experienced DV trial lawyer in the firm.

What wasn’t he getting about this?

“We’ve only seen the initial petition, Logan,” Janus began as carefully as he could. A spark of annoyance he couldn’t quite suppress buzzed in his mind. “If she alleges any sort of—”

“I never hurt her. Not even—” His voice fell away and his eyes were drawn to the door. Fuck, he was losing him.

Janus looked down at the desk between them. He stood, wincing when Logan flinched. He brought his legal pad and a pen and sat at the other end of the couch, nothing between them now but a few feet of overstuffed leather sofa.

“What can you share, Logan?” he asked softly.

“I…” He sighed, shoulders curled over and he held out his right hand. A vague recollection of a college sports injury explaining away the titanium pins that triggered court metal detectors flicked across Janus’ mind.

“I had surgery at Evergreen for my wrist fracture. Started at the emergency room. There will be X-rays.” Janus’ pen flew across the page. “I left… AMA from Recovery.” He massaged the bone just above his wrist and from here, Janus could see the three little white lines from the incisions. “Kelly came by with the kids and… drove me home.”

“She convinced you to leave against medical advice?”

Logan looked away. “The doctor had called a social worker because my injuries were ‘inconsistent with the patient’s reported cause.’”

Janus nodded slowly and made a few marks on the page before flipping back to review the full list of incidents Logan had recounted. “This was in October 2011?”

“After Patton’s first diagnosis.”

He nodded again and flipped back to the mostly blank page, pen hovering over the sheet, ready for the next set of records to requisition. When Logan remained silent, Janus looked up. “Whenever you’re ready,” he prompted gently.

“That’s it.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’” He stared at Logan, brow furrowed as he turned again to the pages detailing the times their arguments had turned violent. The times that bitch had turned violent.

“That was the only injury for which I sought care.” His voice was stiff. Formal.

“What?” Janus hissed, calm façade cracking as he scanned the list. “You—your—The fractures in your hand?” Logan shook his head, eyes on the floor. “Your concussions, the burn, the—the tear in your lobe, you—”

“Dermabond surgical adhesive was sufficient to stop the bleeding.“

Janus scoffed. “You can’t just order that shit from Amazon!”

Logan merely shrugged. “It’s a basic veterinary supply. It isn’t that difficult to acquire.”

“I see,” Janus said more to his notepad than his client. Logan had used fucking vetbond on himself then went to work the next day like nothing had happened. His employee. His co-worker. Sour acid churned in his stomach.

‘He’s your friend, too…’

Roman had been wrong. Janus had not been his friend.

He watched Logan over the top of his legal pad. Shame crawling up his spine, he wondered how many times he’d fucking laughed when Devin had sat where Logan was now and remarked how clumsy their quiet co-worker must be to so often have had some sort of limp or bandage or…

No. He couldn’t undo any of that. But he could fight like hell for Logan now.

“Do you have friends who would be willing to support any of this with contemporaneous reports?” he asked, trying a new tactic. “Neighbors? Anyone you’ve been close with who knew what had really happened and would give a statement?”

“No,” Logan said. His fingers tapped the side of his knee in what more closely resembled a tremor than a fidget.

“What makes you so sure they’d be unwilling to come forward?” Despite humanity's general unwillingness to rock the boat even to save a person from drowning, Janus couldn’t imagine everyone in Logan’s life would be so reluctant to help. With the notable exception of Devin, Logan had always been kind and thoughtful to everyone in the office, unerringly polite and considerate. The first to pass around a card for birthdays or tragedies, despite the glaring omission of his own. There had to be someone.

“We could ensure their anonymity if they’re concerned about… social ramifications. She wouldn’t need to know they’d said anything.”

It was like convincing a rock. He wouldn’t even look up. “Logan, we’ve done it before. Domestic violence situations, particularly when witnesses consider both parties friends and—”

Logan shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I mean I… I have no… confidants from that period of my life. Your, ah…” Logan crossed and uncrossed his legs then wrapped his arms around his stomach, hugging himself. “Your brother-in-law is my first friend in a very long time.”

He looked down at his statement. “You… “ Sighing, he set the legal pad face down on the coffee table and turned in his seat to face Logan properly. “You have been through so much and…” He met his eyes.

Janus used to wonder how people could be so blind when the people around them were suffering. How people could waltz through their days, ignoring the obvious hurt of those around them. But he’d been just as bad. Just as oblivious. “I'm sorry I never noticed the signs. That I never tried to help you.”

Logan looked away, rubbing the fingers of his left hand. Janus had always thought it a nervous habit. Now he wondered how much the mis-fused bones pained him. And how much of it was a reminder of that fight.

Finally, Logan shrugged. “I made every effort to ensure there was nothing for anyone to notice.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then Janus stood. “Can I make you some tea?” Logan looked up, surprise cutting through his mask. Janus smiled and spread his hands, gesturing toward the little kettle and bamboo box of matcha. “I know I could use a cup. I imagine you could, too.”

Logan huffed. “Got anything stronger than tea?”

Shaking his head, Janus chuckled and pulled his five-year Alcoholics Anonymous chip from his pocket. “Nope.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, Logan. We… we’ve both had our secrets, haven’t we?” Janus checked the kettle and clicked it on, then pulled two mugs from underneath the tea caddy. “How long have we known each other?”

“Almost twenty-two years.”

Janus shook his head. “Far too long to not actually know each other.”

“Perhaps,” he said.

The water rumbled in the kettle and Janus whisked it into the powder in the chawan, the steam carrying the bright, clean scent through the room.

“May I help with the tea?” Logan began to rise. “You don’t need to serve me.”

“Yes, actually, I do.” Janus looked over his shoulder and winked. “You’re older, so I pour the tea.”

Sitting back down, Logan shook his head, a tiny scowl wrinkling his brow. “I can’t be that much older than you.”

“Very nearly nine months,” Janus smiled as he poured Logan’s tea, then his own, and set both cups down on the table.

Logan’s face couldn’t decide if he should glare or grin.

“Don’t worry,” Janus nodded and waited for Logan to pick up his cup. “I promise I won’t rub it in too much.”

Smiling, Logan took a sip and set down his cup.

“Besides, it’s bad manners to mock the elderly.”

A sudden belly laugh burst from the ordinarily quiet man.

“Careful there,” Janus murmured, sipping his tea. “Too much excitement at your age can't be healthy.” Shoulders shaking, Logan laughed until there were tears in his eyes and Janus passed him another tissue.

Janus slid a little closer on the couch and smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really laugh.”

“Well,” Logan nodded and raised his cup. “Here’s to twenty-two more years of hearing it.”

By the time they finished their tea, the clock on Janus’ desk chimed six times. “Damn,” he muttered, pulling out his phone and confirming just how late it really was. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your boys.”

“No,” Logan shook his head, turning the little cup in his hands. “Not at all. Patton is at Kelly’s this week. I’m not needed.” Janus frowned at his phrasing and Logan fumbled to explain. “He carpooled after school, and the…” He looked down and the desk lamp cast long shadows across his face, exaggerating the dark circles under his eyes. “The quarter’s started at Western.”

“Hmm.” More shaken by Logan's words than he wanted to admit, Janus took their empty cups and placed them in the basin on the bottom shelf of his tea caddy. “Any plans for dinner, then?”

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