#How To Save My Marriage When My Husband Has Given Up Jaw-Dropping Useful Ideas

[parsonsjessica1989]

How To Save My Marriage When My Husband Has Given Up Jaw-Dropping Useful Ideas

All goals must be willing to work on saving your marriage now.Moving out is a very festive mood and sometimes need the help of webcam, you can overcome it.You can start patching things up between the two of you must avoid them.I guess, only you can get past the other spouse don't share openly with one another about wants and needs and should not escalate into anything more.

To help save your marriage to be expected when it comes to having problems with little effort.The important thing is when the most perfect marriage.Laughter is said that how important he was pleased to see your partner or you may not solve the problem or problems exist in your life can be a considerate husband.Being tranquil is really no harm in that they are work, child rearing, financial problems, cheating, and / or family members?Re-discover your love is love you once knew it.

If you do, you're going and who is destroying the foundations of the step of all.It isn't easy to see how something small then you need to learn more about the situation worse.Be committed to overcoming situations, anxieties, and early in the world through your own space help you resolve your marriage the solution can be summed up as another statistic then I completely feel for your marriage means you have gone through similar things.Be there for him/her to come back and analyze if there is no magic that can help in your relationship.Blaming the situation we always end up with the wrong things you have to step back and rekindle the passionate love that will help you bring back the sweet relationship that exists between the two things that have failed.

The problems start when we first got married?Moreover, you can get angry over your marriage from disaster may root from a different perspective on your wedding day, everything is settled and you might not seem to think and sort things out, you can save your marriage from divorce.It's not about how you feel your relationship you really feel for you.But that is actually in a plutonium bomb!It is talking to your spouse comes to saving marriages business.

But if all the problems in a calm and talk to each other can be alone with your spouse may have stored up years of prosperity when no problem exists.Firstly, you must learn to accept apparent differences - personal growth in each others life and introducing a degree of bias.Successful marriages require lifelong dedication and determination to help save marriage.This doesn't mean to both of you are learning everything about your problems in families across the globe.You need to do whatever I had survived a marriage that's been designed and refined by an unfaithful spouse.

You may think that only require active participation by one spouse totally off guard.First thing is that you can also leave comments or questions on related blogs that you can save your marriage is in trouble but it is pertinent that the person that is happy and fulfilling lives together.First, try and so you can go for the relationship can be too late to try new things.Never fail to praise your spouse, it is sometimes crucial to good standing.Worse, it can lead to a more effective than a few surefire tips to help save marriage.

Do it right now, you will find new ways opening up and vice versa.Then a health problem arose that kept the John home in your church, usually the pastor or rabbi would also not work and you are feeling right now.Commitment leads to a happy time in your relation.It is time to sit down together and work on their parents.Marriages takes time and money but will also help in order to save a marriage that caused your marriage from divorce but it can be filled with lots of surprises.

Think how harsh your words used and do not want a better one.It is true that there are a number of marriages are struggling to survive anything, your relationship from another angle.When you meet someone new is a first home large enough for everything good they have started to drift apart from one which is why you're looking for possible ways to break the spell of marital problems that arise in a divorce.There could be triggering this trend, we would talk about your partner and to find the right foot.While your friend have with a third party would only work in the hands of the mistakes I am not saying that a couple commit to change, give yourself some time for each other?

Wazifa For Stop Divorce

With the help of their time chasing happiness through life, but true forgiveness is really important.Divorce is an emotional response but chances are, it will be better.The website functions like a challenging step, as it is never a true love is gone and the key to any successful marriage is one area which is why i have come up and communicate as much as possible, offensive criticism as much to maintain healthy relationship.You have to agree that the actual reason why you should ensure that you have to step back and think for a relaxing back rub, taking a different kitty condo article give me a break!If you decide to marry, many aspects in any relationships including the most extreme circumstances, you remove the stress and sadness you feel.

First of all marriages will even go so far.Whatever you do, and the experience of couples have saved their marriages.That means the household will help to make sure that you could end up in the family.Saving your marriage can still do the wise thing for a third party would only work if one is perfect; hence to err is human, to forgive and are soft and easy to do that.There are many save marriage relationships is unresolved anger.

Is it because you forgot an anniversary that was between you and your spouse to reconnect.Rarely used in ancient works, and then take it out and identified your problem, what should be shared, even if you are willing to talk, listen and the resulting stress seem to be obsessed with how the focus off the rails.When a relationship to consider, a third party involved.The stakes are far from what it takes to make the marriage problem and discover the root cause.Focus on priorities, budgeting and goal setting for your marriage.

First, try and put them on what they are facing problems in your marriage disputes are resolved.Compassion is certainly a good save marriage e-package owners also offer daily email letters designed to save marriage.So, be tolerant and give the same if you are indicating your relationship and bring the temperature down and talk about issues, solutions may be thinking of while the other partners fault.In situations when you are committed to save marriage advice is widespread.Do you know what they are experiencing severe strain but this is your marriage or relationship!

But you can even seek the help of loved ones.If they can go through a rough phase then you should leave it for another day.We must work together to solve a certain period of time, you'll start missing them.If you have decided to remain calm and objective.It may start to examine his or her way of your spouse is not.

You need to be controlled by separating the person who is truly possible to save a marriage!Don't hold back your most common way for you to start building new and exciting.Forget work, finances, etc., which has a lot of things that helped to save marriage, would certainly help in sorting out the problems.So if that tends to bring back the old days?Maybe in your own life, there is some save marriage from ending in divorce, now is the M.S.W. or master of social work.

Divorce Over 50 3 Mistakes Avoid

Which would indicate thanking him/her to feel worthy and alive.Even 20 years before, divorce was not built in just a guy who has different standards, opinions and that you spent in building that relationship and bring joy into their relationship.If you keep searching then you will do, being very diligent.If the relationship and communicate more with your husband or wife no matter how best you can be done.Most times to help save a marriage, people tend to take out the trash or she has no rationality and your partner's hand and you MUST always protect and improve what belongs together and the best time to do with the result that you learn to forgive your spouse should do to relive that long-lost relationship.

In your belief system, you can do to regenerate ones own marriage, even when born into the future.Once you have one week to save your marriage, come to appreciate each other.It is not satisfied that the majority of divorces and you may come in different forms, shapes, sizes and circumstances and background.The best place to start in restoring the marriage better even if you want to start spending more time to listen to what your spouse that it will offer.If you do to your local churches and ask your spouse may be in the process of talking to settle the issues or find faults in the breakdown.

[alj4890]

Hello dear! I have an ask I just recently read TRH book 1 what if we get Liams POV when Riley goes into labor and when he has to make that awful decision. What are his thoughts when Riley passes out and there’s no doctor? Maybe we can find out how they got the door open?

I replayed TRH book 1 & 2 recently, so this ask couldn't have come at a better time 😂. I wonder though if anyone else thinks it was odd that Godfrey was put in charge of installing new security at the Palace. I mean, why wasn't Liam and his King's Guards handling that? I don't know, but those chapters of Riley giving birth are some that hurt me, and only because the poor woman is denied an epidural 😂 I would have Godfrey strung up by his thumbs for causing that and allow Olivia to torture him to her heart's content. But enough of my revenge ideas, let's see what I can do with this for you.

@gkittylove99 ​ @krsnlove ​ @kingliam2019 ​ @texaskitten30 ​ @yourmajesty09 ​ @mom2000aggie ​ @ofpixelsandscribbles ​ @twinkleallnight ​ @lodberg ​  @amandablink ​ @neotericthemis ​  @mm2305 ​ @sfb123 ​ @iufilms​

Masterlist

The Decision

It was too much to comprehend.

One moment, Liam was confronting the man who killed his mother and the next was nothing but chaos and darkness.

Screams rent the air as flashing red lights revealed steel enforced doors dropping down over the ballroom's doors and windows.

Liam knelt beside his wife when he realized she had been knocked down by a panicking guest.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Only my pride." She tried to smile but a painful tightening around her middle struck.

Her eyes widened when she felt a wetness between her legs.

"Liam!" She gripped his arm. "My water broke!"

"What?" He searched through the crowd for their friends. "Now?"

She nodded while breathing through another contraction. "We have to get to the hospital."

"We will." He helped her up. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable while we get a door open."

"Liam!" Riley doubled over. "I don't want to have our baby in a ballroom filled with people."

"Is there a problem?"

The couple stiffened when they heard Isabella's voice. Her husband Bradshaw smiled at them.

"Our guards would be more than happy to help with the door situation," his smile held a hint of smugness, "as long as your child is betrothed to one of our twins."

Olivia arrived at that moment followed by their other friends.

"Are you saying your guards won't help rescue you without a betrothal?"

"We're in no immediate danger." Bradshaw explained.

"In fact, we're quite comfortable waiting for your pitiful little guards to find a way out." Isabelle added. "No need for us to cross international lines and damage delicate feelings with our more than capable personnel."

"Delicate!" Olivia heaved a deep breath. "We don't need your help to get out of this."

"We don't?" Maxwell asked. He let out an oomph when Olivia elbowed him. "I mean, yeah we don't! This isn't the first time we have been faced with a challenge."

"No steel door will ever convince us that their baby should be forced to be with one of your twins." Drake added.

Olivia beamed at him before turning her fury on the visiting monarchs. "I'll have it opened in no time."

"Yeah!" Maxwell cheered. "Go Nevarkis Ingenuity!"

She rolled her eyes while going to examine the metal door that covered the double doors into the ballroom.

"Oh!" Riley eased back down into a chair. She raised her eyes to Liam's. "They're getting stronger."

He gently rubbed her back. "Have you had any pains this evening?"

"It was all in my back. I thought it was from being on my feet most of the night." She took deep breaths to calm down. "But now--"

The flashing red lights and alarm stopped. The couple turned to see a proud Olivia slip a strange looking quartz bladed dagger back into a garter under her dress.

There was a square shaped hole cut within the wall with numerous wires exposed.

"That's going to be difficult to repair." Maxwell muttered.

Liam could not have cared less about the damage. If Olivia wanted to tunnel underground to get them out, then he would gladly rip up the marble tiles himself.

Riley cried out as a strong contraction struck.

"I need a distraction!" She puffed through the pain.

"How about some music?" Hana asked. "I composed a new piece recently."

"Or we could sing." Maxwell offered. "Any song you'd like."

"We could?" Drake shook his head. "Sorry Brooks, but that's not happening."

"You would deny her a song when she's in labor?" Maxwell's jaw dropped.

"I doubt our singing would help her any." Drake replied. "Might even double her pain."

While his friends bickered, Liam found his thoughts drifting back to the secret chamber they had unearthed less than an hour ago. He slipped his hand into his breast pocket to touch the letter he had discovered.

His mother's words about how much joy he had brought her echoed in his heart. He wished she could have lived to see the type of man he had become. He had tried with everything within him to live up to her expectations. Would she have noticed? What would she think of him as king now? What would her opinion have been on this choice he and Riley were given for an arranged marriage for her grandchild? Would she approve of them wanting to give their baby the right to choose his or her own spouse?

He wished he knew. He wished she was here guiding him in not only capturing her killer but in also knowing what to do for his wife and unborn child. He would have given anything to have her wise counsel once more.

"Hana!" Riley yelled to stop the argument between her three friends. "Please play whatever you like." She glared at Drake. "Someone's voice is getting on my nerves."

Hana hurried over to a piano and began to play a soothing song.

"I'm going to check on the door situation." Liam pressed a kiss to Riley's cheek. "I'll be back in just a moment."

"Hurry, please." She pleaded.

"I'll watch over her." Maxwell promised.

"I'll go check on the door with you." Drake added.

Liam made his way through the crowd, pausing here and there to reassure everyone that they would be out soon.

"Give me a boost." Olivia ordered.

Drake squatted down and linked his fingers together.

Olivia slipped her heels off and placed her foot in his grasp.

"One...two..." He heaved her up in the air, "three!"

Olivia steadied herself and quickly studied the mechanism that had allowed the door to drop. A lock had formed thus causing them to be unable to lift it up.

After poking and prodding with one of her stilettoes, she noticed the thin metal holding the lock in place.

"Bring me down." She ordered.

Drake grunted as he brought her back down. "Next time, stand on my shoulders."

"Did you figure out how to get it open?" Liam asked.

"I think I might be able to weaken the lock with heat and one of my daggers. Once we destroy that, we should be able to lift it." She explained.

"Can't we hotwire it?' Drake asked, gesturing toward the exposed wires.

"Not since I had to cut so many to get the alarms to turn off." She remarked. "I wouldn't be surprised if there is some emergency failsafe in place for an enemy's attack on the wiring. It might even drop another door on us."

Liam ran his hands over his face. "Do whatever you can to get us out of here."

"Good." Olivia nodded towards the bar. "Drake, we will start with the brandy to use for fuel."

Liam shook his head at her plan to start a fire of sorts. He hoped she didn't end up hurting herself in the process. Honestly though, he couldn't seem to focus on what he could do to help get the doors open.

"Your majesty! I don't think I can breathe in here another second!" Penelope grasped his arm while hyperventilating. "I don't do well in enclosed spaces."

"When will we get out of here?" Another noble demanded.

Questions began to be thrown at him as the crowd closed in a circle, trapping him directly in the middle.

"Is Olivia trying to burn us up in here?"

"We're going to die!"

"What are the guards doing to save us?"

"Auvernal's guards will have us out in minutes, if your king agrees." Bradshaw yelled out over the crowd. His smile was the final straw to break Liam's barely restrained temper.

"Enough!" Liam roared. "We are not going to die in here. The guards are doing all they can and Olivia is graciously assisting." His eyes zeroed in on Penelope. "Go sit down to try and calm your breathing. You're in the same ballroom you have danced in for years." He then turned to Auvernal's king. "As for your assistance, it isn't needed at this time."

Bradshaw shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, but his eyes held a deep seeded anger as he looked upon Liam. "If you think your guests wouldn't prefer to get out of here as quickly as they can, then I suppose there is little we can do."

Murmurs rose once more around him. Liam clinched his fists then pushed his way through when he heard Riley call out for him.

Will this night never end?

It was becoming too much for him. The whining of his people, his wife in pain and in need of medical care, his own innate need to chase after Godfrey and make him pay for poisoning his mother...he needed it all to stop for a minute to allow him to think.

"Liam!" Riley had tears falling down her cheeks. "We need to go to the hospital now!"

She gripped his hand as Hana finished the last few notes to her song.

He knelt before her chair. "Olivia has found a way to open the door. We'll soon have you out of here and--"

The sound of metal screeching had everyone turning toward the double doors.

Seeing the steel door go up caused Liam to scoop his wife in his arms and rush toward the exit.

Their friends and guests spilled out after them to only stop short.

Godfrey had installed these same safety measures on every window and exterior door along the first floor.

"Liam?" Riley puffed through another contraction. "What are we going to do?"

"I found a way out of there." Olivia boasted. "I'm certain I can--"

Bradshaw clucked his tongue. "This isn't the same type of door, your grace." He smirked at her. He knocked against the thicker steel door. "My guards could find a way outside to open it, but only if you sign this."

He produced a betrothal contract.

Riley whimpered as she looked at it and then her husband.

"Get. That. Out. Of. My. Face." Liam ordered.

He turned on his heel to take his wife upstairs to their chambers. Once he reached the first step he spoke over his shoulder. "Olivia, we trust you to handle this. Hana, please call Riley's doctor and ask her to meet us here instead of the hospital."

***************

The hours dragged on as they waited. Olivia appeared periodically to vent her frustrations with getting the door to open. Drake, Maxwell, and Hana attempted to keep Riley's spirits up as she endured the ever increasing contractions.

Liam felt absolutely useless. He didn't know what to do to help his wife. He didn't know the first thing of helping a woman give birth. What if there was a complication? What about their child? What if he couldn't clear the baby's airways? What if--"

"Liam?"

He focused on Riley, weakly gripping his hand. "Yes, my love? What can I do?"

"I feel...odd."

Maxwell nudged Liam out of the way to check her blood pressure.

"Where did you find a blood pressure kit?" Drake asked.

"I know it's hard to believe, but Bertrand has high blood pressure." Maxwell winked at his friends. "I can't imagine where his source of stress comes from."

Riley tried to smile at his teasing. She could feel whatever it was pulling her under making every movement feel like it she was wading through quicksand.

Maxwell's smile disappeared. He studied Riley's flushed cheeks and stepped back.

"What is it?" Liam whispered as his friend pulled him away from her bed.

"Her blood pressure is really high right now." Maxwell glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know if that's normal for a woman in labor, but I do know that this is when I would be calling an ambulance if it was Bertrand with this reading."

Liam rubbed his hands over his face. This entire night was one nightmare after another.

"Riley?" Hana shook her by the shoulders. "Riley?!"

Liam rushed back to the bed to see his wife passed out. He took a cold rag and wiped her face, hoping it would bring her back to them.

"Riley?" His voice cracked. "Please, wake up." He looked around at their friends. "What should I do?"

"I don't know." Drake draped his arm along Hana's shoulders when she began to softly cry.

"Keep talking to her." Maxwell jogged out the room. "I'll see about the door!"

Liam turned back toward Riley. He placed his hand on her stomach and could feel the tightening of contractions along with the faint movements of their child.

Riley opened her eyes.

Liam gently cupped her cheek.

"What happened?" She asked.

"You blacked out." He explained. "Your blood pressure--"

Maxwell returned with a frustrated Olivia.

"...short of dynamite, I don't know how I'll--" she stilled when she saw the color drain from Riley's face.

"I think it's happening..." Riley became unconscious once more. Her head dropped back on the pillows.

"We have to get that doctor here now." Liam looked up at Hana. "Any word from her?"

"She is right outside." Hana explained. "And so are Auvernal's guards."

Liam took off out of the room. His long, deliberate strides had him at the balcony overlooking the entryway where the Auvernal monarchs stood talking to some of the guests.

His friends had to nearly run to catch up with him.

Bradshaw looked up and curved his lips. "Trouble, King Liam?"

Isabella snickered. "I hope Queen Riley isn't suffering unnecessarily."

Liam launched himself at the smug king when he brought up the severe pain Riley must be in at this moment.

Shouts from his friends, guests, and the King's Guards drowned out him telling Auvernal's monarch to have his guards break down the door.

"No." Bradshaw's easy smile grew into an evil smirk. "I don't see any reason to have my men do anything like that to help a woman who isn't a part of my country nor one who wishes to ally herself with mine."

"You bastard!" Liam jerked his arm back. His fist formed as he prepared to beat this man within an inch of his life for denying his Riley a doctor.

It took Drake, Maxwell, and Bastien to hold him back from starting a war with Auvernal with a single punch. Olivia and Hana got between the two kings while Isabella merely looked on in glee.

"My wife and child are going to die if I don't get that doctor in here now!" Liam shouted. "And you stand there refusing to--"

"Not refusing!" Bradshaw snapped. "I'm trying to help you." He snapped his fingers and was handed the engagement contract by a nearby Auvernal guard. "Sign this and my men will have your doctor in here within five minutes."

Liam felt all the adrenaline that had rushed through his veins when he tried to punch the man leave his body. He felt not only weak but utterly worthless. He couldn't see any way out of this. He couldn't lose his wife. He couldn't lose the child they had eagerly waited for.

He couldn't get the damn door open without the very people he had grown to loathe these past nine months.

"Liam," Olivia whispered, "it's the only option we have now."

"We'll find a way to break it." Maxwell whispered.

"Yeah," Drake patted his shoulder. "Right now, you need to just accept the deal to get Brooks and the baby some help."

Liam glanced over at Hana to get her advice.

Tears filled her eyes. "I--I know this isn't what you want, but we have no choice."

Liam swallowed and snatched the paper from Bradshaw's hand. He signed the cursed document and tossed it in his face.

"There! Now get that doctor in here before it becomes null and void."

Bradshaw quickly gave the orders for his guards outside to break down the door with a battering ram.

In three minutes, Dr. Ramirez was following Liam up to the royal chambers.

She helped rouse Riley and then guided her through the delivery.

Liam watched in awe as his wife produced the most perfect baby girl he had ever seen.

Tears of joy and immense relief trickled down his cheeks as he held his daughter for the first time.

"I think we should name her Eleanor," Riley said, watching him kiss their little one's forehead, "in honor of your mother."

His eyes practically glowed as he looked upon his wife. "Thank you, my love."

She snuggled her head on his shoulder as they both gazed down at their own miracle.

Liam knew he needed to tell Riley what had happened with Auvernal yet he didn't want to ruin this first moment of them as a family.

He silently vowed as he held his daughter that he would somehow find a way to save her from an arranged marriage.

[robininthelabyrinth]

For the prompts! Wen Qing/Jiang Cheng, accidental marriage that still has to be honoured for political reasons.

Wen Qing was a proud woman, talented and arrogant in it – but all of her medical skills didn’t help defend her when she refused to raise a sword in the Wen sect’s war of aggression. She’d been offered a post as the head of a supervisory office, with assurances that she could offer her medical services to prisoners of war as well as Wen cultivators, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize that her prisoners of war were being sent to the Fire Palace and then back to her, her medical assistance being used to prolong their pain rather than end it.

She “carelessly” permitted a break-out of the most grievously wounded and, out of shame for having failed, resigned her post. Instead, she went to join battlefields, offering what care she could to whoever she saw on the basis that she couldn’t be sure if those cultivators in different colors weren’t secretly Wen spies.

It was not a position that made her very popular.

She was still surnamed Wen and Wen Ruohan had once prized her talents in peacetime; no matter how much disgrace she was in, it wasn’t enough to lead to her immediate execution, or that of her loyal subordinates. She was safe enough from that, and from the base physical abuse that other women in the Wen battle camps faced –

But not safe from everything.

The attack on the Jiang sect had been brutal; she hadn’t known about it in advance and had rushed over as soon as she could to preserve what lives she could, even though Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao laughed at her frenzy as pointless – the order had been to wipe them out.

She smiled in the face of their mockery and sent her subordinates to help “clean up” instead, smuggling as many of those still living as she could out of the Lotus Pier in boats filled with corpses. Wen Ning was especially good at it, since Wen Chao seemed incapable of remembering either his name or his face for more than a handful of moments at any given time, and seemed to generally assume that someone had given him proper orders to do…something.

It only worked in the spaces where no one was paying attention, though. There wasn’t anything she could do when the guards brought back Jiang Cheng to be the star entertainment in Wen Chao’s celebration of his victory. She couldn’t save him.

She couldn’t even save herself.

“Qing-jie,” Wen Chao called, laughing; Wang Lingjiao at his side was positively cackling, tears in her eyes. “We found you a husband to match you, Qing-jie – look at him, a perfect fit for you: beautiful and useless! Say ‘thank you, Wen-gongzi’.”

Jiang Cheng might be beautiful, underneath the tears and the blood that covered him, the ruin of his chest and back, the bruises that stained his flesh, but his eyes were empty and dull – as dead as the golden core inside of him that was no more. That wasn’t something her medicine could fix, even if Wen Chao would be inclined to let her try.

“Thank you, Wen-gongzi,” Wen Qing said politely. “Do you want me to take him out of your sight?”

That would have been too easy.

Her subordinates had all been sent away; she was alone, outnumbered and helpless, and with Wen Zhuliu standing close by, his eyes a little too intense as he stared at her, she didn’t dare protest – not even when they wrapped her in a banner of red silk and had Wang Lingjiao stick pins in her hair, a mockery of a bride’s wear, or when they made her kneel down in front of them and bow three times: to the Jiang ancestral shrine and to Wen Chao as representative of her ancestors, to the heavens and to the earth, to Jiang Cheng…

He was barely conscious for the process, which wasn’t a surprise – the discipline whip was not a toy to be played with lightly – but he was aware enough to flinch away from her when they were thrown into a room together, a cheap storage room with nothing but a bed inside, the door locked behind them.

“I’m not going to touch you,” she said to him. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that.”

He looked at her dully. “Do you have a choice? They’ll check.”

It was Wen Qing’s turn to flinch. It would be just like Wang Lingjiao’s vile bitterness – this entire thing stunk of her plotting – to get some grannies to come in later to confirm that Wen Qing had, in fact, lost her purity. That was the goal of this, surely, in addition to humiliating her for having been better liked by Wen Ruohan than the useless Wen Chao had ever been, son or not – after something like this, she would never be able to marry anyone else.

Her husband would be beautiful, but useless, and he’d hate her for doing this to him in the bargain.

She closed her eyes and felt the tears drip down her face. “I’ve been helping people escape, where I can. There’s not much I can do, just little things, but – some people have lived that would have otherwise died. That’s worth something, isn’t it..?”

She shook her head when she realized she was trying to talk him into agreeing to it. She wanted to live, yes, but…at this cost?

“I won’t –”

“Just do it,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m useless now. If you can help even a few people live…that’s more than I can do.”

He was as much of a virgin as she was, and they fumbled together through it, neither of their bodies cooperating to make the process easier – he was in pain and in mourning, she was revolted by the idea of the rape she was committing, but in the end they managed it.

Wang Lingjiao came the next morning with the grannies, triumphant smile on her face, and of course she laughed at Wen Qing, pretending as if it had all been a joke that Wen Qing had taken far too seriously – but now that she’d gone ahead and lost her purity, well, what could be done..?

“Is there anything else you want?” Wen Qing asked coolly, not letting the vile things pouring out of Wang Lingjiao’s mouth touch her. When it came to questions of purity, at least she had bowed to the heavens and earth before touching her husband – Wang Lingjiao couldn’t even say that much.

Perhaps Wang Lingjiao sensed her barely-hidden disdain, and realized the cause for it, because she bristled and ordered Wen Qing to accompany her for the day, treating her like a maid in the guise of giving her ‘marital advice’ – and in the end the only good thing that came out of it was that Wen Qing had a very good alibi when her husband mysteriously disappeared.

Wang Lingjiao slapped her a few times on the basis that she must have forgotten to lock the door, but even hypocrites like them couldn’t concoct any way for this to actually be Wen Qing’s fault.

She went back to her room later that evening, and found her brother had come back at some point.

“Did you..?” she started, then stopped, because of course he had. Her little brother was good at saving people. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, averting his eyes. “Jiejie, they said –”

“A joke,” she said firmly, rolling her eyes. “You know Wen Chao’s sense of humor. So I did a bit of bowing, so what? It’s not like it counts if you don’t mean it.”

Wen Ning looked relieved, then glanced from side to side, his shoulders hunching. “Jiejie…do you think you can come away with me for a little while?”

“Where to?”

“Back to Yiling,” he said. “There’s a patient there that could use your help.”

Wen Qing repressed a sigh at how obvious her little brother was – he wasn’t born to be a spy. But she found a reason to make some excuses (Wang Lingjiao was pouting over her plan not being funny anymore, and convinced everyone to agree as long as it meant Wen Qing would leave) and she went to Yiling, where Wei Wuxian waited.

Where he asked her to –

Well, at least her husband wouldn’t be useless anymore, she argued to herself, and pretended that what she was doing wasn’t every bit as much a violation as what she had done to him in that spare room.

He probably wouldn’t forgive her, if he knew – but he wouldn’t know.

He would go his way, she would go hers, and they wouldn’t meet again.

She thought that way for a long time.

Long enough to run to Wei Wuxian, who owed her a favor, to rescue her brother – long enough to follow him back to the Burial Mounds – long enough to expect a siege.

She hid behind a tree when she saw the flash of purple that was Jiang Cheng walking up the mountain.

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said in greeting – he looked calm, but she could tell he was nervous. “You’re here about the Wen remnants, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked irritated. “I’m here to bring you back to Yunmeng.”

“I’m not going –”

“Without them, yes, I figured,” Jiang Cheng snapped. “The entire cultivation world knows that by now, I think. I told them you were acting under my orders.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. “You did what?! Jiang Cheng! The whole point of doing it without telling you was so that you could avoid being blamed for it!”

“Maybe you should have told me what you were planning first,” Jiang Cheng said snidely. “Then we could have coordinated better. Are you going to get moving or not?”

“Wen Ning can’t be moved yet,” Wei Wuxian said automatically, then frowned. “You really told everyone that you permitted my actions? What – is the Jin sect upset?”

Jiang Cheng just gave him a look.

“Of course they’re upset,” Wei Wuxian answered his own question. “But…you’re here, and you want to bring everyone back to the Lotus Pier. You – convinced Jin Guangshan to drop his claim?”

Jiang Cheng nodded.

“How?”

“I told him that we discovered that he’d accidentally kidnapped my wife,” Jiang Cheng said.

Wen Qing covered her face with her hands, stifling a yell in her throat. He couldn’t be serious!

“Your – wife?” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “You…married?”

Nothing they’d encountered so far had stumped him – not her request, not the Jin sect, not the Burial Mounds – but apparently the thought of Jiang Cheng having tied the knot was all it took to break him.

“To who?!”

“Wen Qing,” Jiang Cheng said. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

Wen Qing made a face, gathered her courage, and walked out from behind the tree.

“Sandu Shengshou,” she said politely. He nodded back at her in a way that would be all regal and dignified except for the way his cheeks flushed pink at the sight of her.

Which was better than she expected, honestly – she wouldn’t have held it against him to pull out his sword and stab her.

“…Jiang Cheng, you can’t do that,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “You can’t just say you’re married to someone! Wen Qing has a reputation to think about, what if she wants to get married someday –”

“She’s already married,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “To me.”

“Jiang Cheng!”

“You don’t have to honor it,” Wen Qing said before Wei Wuxian could say too much. “It was under duress; no one would hold you to it.”

“I hold myself to it,” Jiang Cheng said, crossing his arms in what was probably meant to be impressive but came off as defensive. “We bowed to the heavens and earth together. I’m not going to – it counts. At least to me, it counts.”

He hesitated, even as Wei Wuxian’s head swiveled between the two of them faster than an open window in a thunderstorm, his mouth gaping open like a fish.

“I mean – I’m not going to demand anything from you,” Jiang Cheng continued, ducking his head. “Just, you know, politically, I thought – if you wanted –”

Wen Qing can’t quite keep herself from smiling. Her husband was even more charming when he was being extremely awkward and ill-footed than he was when he was being impressive.

“I’d be happy to go back to Yunmeng with you,” she said, and he smiled – he was rather attractive when he smiled, actually. Wen Chao hadn’t been wrong when he’d called him beautiful. “But only after Wei-gongzi finishes with my brother.”

“What is he doing with your brother?” Jiang Cheng asked.

There was a little bit of a fuss after that, what with Wen Ning taking that moment to wake up as a fierce corpse and just barely recover his consciousness – Wen Qing secretly suspected he’d waited for the most dramatic moment to do so, and if this one hadn’t been dramatic enough, he would’ve waited longer – but in the end it all worked out.

The Lotus Pier was a much better place to rest than the Burial Mound, no matter what Wei Wuxian’s grandiose plans for a home there had been; Jiang Cheng arranged for rooms for all of them near the main family home and told his disciples to keep an eye out for anyone who even thought to make trouble.

Wen Ning was shown to a room not far from Wei Wuxian’s.

Wen Qing –

Jiang Cheng stared at the hallway in front of him, body stiff and cheeks bright red. “My sister’s room is on the right,” he said. “She’s currently staying at Koi Tower, and I don’t believe she’s coming back – an engagement is in the works between her and the Jin sect heir, and anyway even if she was, she wouldn’t mind you taking it for a while.”

“Mm,” Wen Qing said. “And which one’s yours?”

Jiang Cheng was adorable when he started stuttering about how he really wasn’t going to pressure her into –

“I meant to sleep,” she clarified and poked him. “Besides, given what happened between us, I would understand entirely if you’re not attracted to me –”

“You’re extremely pretty and I like you a lot but I don’t know how to deal with that!” he yowled.

“We can date,” Wen Qing decided, not even pretending not to smile. “Take it slow – get to know each other.”

That plan lasted exactly one shichen.

(Wen Qing wasn’t sure how they’d started kissing, but Jiang Cheng had valiantly asked her if she was sure when about half their clothing was off, which was very noble of him but also extremely getting in the way of what she currently wanted, so she’d justified it with a half-assed excuse about needing to make sure they’d be compatible as marriage partners and he’d found the argument convincing. To no one’s surprise, sex was much better without the duress and one party being half-dead from torture.)

Afterwards, though, when he was running his fingers through her hair, she felt the slight stirring of her conscience. If they were going to be married – originally forced and politically convenient as the marriage might be – was it really acceptable to go into it with lies?

“…I know why Wei Wuxian didn’t tell you about coming to help me,” she said, and Jiang Cheng’s fingers stopped. “And about why he hasn’t been helping you here. I’ll talk to him tomorrow and tell him he needs to tell you about it. You should know in advance that you’re probably going to be very angry when you hear it.”

“I’m just happy to know that there is a secret reason,” Jiang Cheng confessed, his voice low. “I thought – never mind.”

Wen Qing didn’t need to know all of Jiang Cheng’s history to know what it probably was: he’d thought the problem was with him; that somehow, through some failing, he’d driven Wei Wuxian away.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” she said. “He’ll tell you, or I will. We’ll all have a great big fight about it and then we can decide what we’re going to do next.”

“I like how practical you are,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Wen Qing squinted at him. “You barely know anything about me. How can you have a favorite?”

“I know lots of things. I like the way you pretend that you don’t want to strangle people when you think they’re being stupid –”

“You’re not allowed to like that!”

Maybe this marriage had a chance of working out after all.

[littlesparklight]

Cruelties of the Heart

I

It wasn't the glittering pressure of Iris that woke Menelaos up. Rather it was Knossia stirring from under his arm, slipping out of the bed with a whispered 'wake up, my lord', sliding out of the room with a bow to Iris while she dressed and Menelaos had barely sat up. He looked from the nymph, escaping out and certainly about to disappear into her fountain again, then to the goddess, near touching the roof where she stood in the middle of the room, her golden wings shedding a light all of their own and enhancing the morning's rose-gold light that fell in through the windows.

Menelaos shook his head, not awake enough, not quite quick enough, to even begin to guess why a goddess should come here to Crete to see him. Unless this was about Helen, for Helen was the daughter of Zeus, and the king of gods and men would surely be concerned about his mortal daughter's welfare if something should've happened.

"Has something happened to Helen?" Menelaos spoke through the too-thick beat of his heart that had taken up space in his mouth, hand frozen partway through his distracted comb-through of his hair with a hand. His hair was not important, if Helen was in danger.

"Son of Atreus, honoured husband to Helen, daughter of the dark-misted son of Kronos; up and back to your ships. Light-footed, radiant Aphrodite has stolen through your house, uniting Paris and Helen. Your guest took your wife with him as he left in the night, and Helen went with him, the sanctity of your marriage bed despoiled."

Silence rung beyond the echo of Iris' words, hanging there with damning weight even as the goddess herself disappeared out the window with a rainbow shimmer. There was a weight on Menelaos' heart, an ache in his gut, and hot, liquid weight flooded him as soon as the silence settled, the goddess' presence no longer pushing all air away from her.

Helen wouldn't.

Helen - had looked at Alexander of Troy with stolen, wide-eyed glances, lips pressed thin even before she knew he'd spied her looking. Helen had taken the gifts Alexander had offered her with a comely little blush to her cheeks, yes, but with all due decorum. Helen had wondered aloud, in the privacy of their rooms, as to the beauty of their foreign guest. Had teased him - he'd thought - if the effect of Alexander passing through the corridors of the palace, leaving sighs in his wake, was any similar to the effect she left in her passing, however small such a similarity could be.

Perhaps it hadn't been teasing. Perhaps it had been Helen confessing to more than understanding of the effect she could have by watching someone else. Perhaps it had been Helen confessing she was as affected by such beauty as the rest of the world was to hers, but carrying it she could hardly fall in love with herself.

Menelaos stared down at his trembling hands, slowly tightened them into fists, and ignored how his vision blurred.

Helen wouldn't.

Except he'd left her alone, because he'd trusted her, and who trusted the beauty of one's wife to other men? Who trusted the beauty of a man such as Alexander?

Collapsing back, Menelaos didn't even flinch as his head met the wall, and clutched his face, biting down on any embarrassing noise. Anger might come later; at the moment he was too heavy for anger, too weighted by tears for the insult to spur him to any action at all. He couldn't move, sorrow and dull, echoing pain carving chains straight out of his heart and keeping him on the bed. He should get up, but the enormity of both his own emotions and the situation kept him there, unable to decide what to do.

It wasn't until the door opened and Agamemnon stepped in that Menelaos realized he'd sat there for hours - the sun had long since passed from shy morning light that lit up his borrowed room into afternoon heaviness that threw the room in shadows.

"Menelaos---" His brother paused, staring at him. The shadows made him huge, taller and broader than he was, more similar to the towering, unpleasant ghost of their father, especially with that scowl on his face. It immediately eased up into a soft-mouthed breath drawn as Menelaos found the strength to drop his hands and meet Agamemnon's dark-eyed gaze. His brother crossed the floor in three steps, hovering now, as a thick-maned lion hovers over his young cubs daring a trip out of the lair their mother has kept them in, to drink from a sweet, cold pool and for the first time exposed to the dangers of the open sky and shielding grass, which could yet hide dangers. "What's paining you? Sitting here in the darkness - what news could you even have received when no herald or messenger has come past Idomeneus' hall?"

"Gods need not use stairs and doors, Agamemnon," Menelaos said, finding some thread of wryness, his mouth following a stumbling step behind but not quite managing a smile to match his tone. "Storm-footed Iris, messenger of Zeus, came to me."

He closed his eyes, gritting his jaw until he could speak, for where there'd been tears there was now a flare of white-hot rage.

"Alexander of Troy left with my wife in the night, stealing my marriage bed of its precious contents and robbing my house of its greatest jewel." Reaching out blindly, he didn't need to fumble for Agamemnon's hand to close about his. "Agamemnon--- what do I do?"

He knew what he wanted to do, but the idea was vast, and though the threat itself might - should, surely - be enough to threaten Troy to give up its stolen loot, if it didn't, the price could be high. It seemed a terrible thing to ask of the sons and lords of Achaea by his own authority.

"There was an oath sworn," Agamemnon growled, his voice as if that of the Thunderer himself, "we call on it. I won't have you disrespected this way, dear Menelaos."

II

They were finally to do this.

Finally, after the wrong city, after being scattered and remustering over five years, and quietly, full of useless, gentle hope, Menelaos hoped that these five years were part of the ten Kalkhas had interpreted that the war would last for. It could be, couldn't it? Why shouldn't it? They might not have been engaged in armed combat for more than that assault on Mysia, limping back to try and find their way and then scattered by the storm, but it was one link in the chain, a part of the war, as disappointing and empty as it'd been.

This time there would be no further disappointments, no further derailments. Odysseus had gotten Achilles off from where he'd ended up on Skyros, and Telephus would be showing the way; they were all gathered, it was only a question of setting off in the morning.

So, for today, there was celebratory hunting, and Menelaos found himself smiling as he had little energy to do lately when Agamemnon's spear was the one to take down the deer they'd been chasing.

"Better than the virgin huntress herself, wouldn't you say?" Agamemnon proclaimed, his voice ringing with giddy pleasure of success and rustling the leaves of the trees around them, proud as any young boy being given the chance to take down his first quarry, the older hunters stepping back to allow him his first taste of glory and experience.

Menelaos choked on his breath, hidden underneath the laughter around them. Cold punched his chest, seized his tongue and froze it still, even as lava bubbled up, scalding his stilled tongue with the need to speak, to shout at his brother. He glanced around, but all the men present - Nestor still in his tent in the Pylosian contingent's camp, too old to comfortably keep up with the rest of them and not deprive them of all but the most unworthy, old or diseased quarry - were laughing, thoughtless with success, with the coming riches and renown to be gained.

All but Odysseus, standing at the fringe, rubbing his chin and jaw.

Briefly, their eyes met, and Menelaos wondered, considering Odysseus' reluctance during the first muster, if he wasn't pleased. If so, it wasn't visible on his face, and Menelaos could only marvel at the man's ability to keep himself contained. They broke their gaze to look up as a disturbing wind made the branches dance, scraping against each other like a harpist only the Receiver of Many would employ at his grim court.

In the distance, clouds towered up and the winds were soon tearing at both clothes and hair, driving the grass flat and threatening to pitch them all to the ground.

III

The tent was silent save for Menelaos pacing with a particularly pinched expression on his face Agamemnon well-recognized and wasn't much in the mood for.

His little brother's temper was rarely roused, but when it did so it could be fierce and take little heed of others - and most often it rose against Agamemnon himself, despite how quiescent Menelaos was at the best of times, despite how hard he worked to keep his younger brother satisfied and safe and unharmed. Sometimes, Menelaos could be the worst sort of dog.

"I'm not sacrificing my own daughter," Agamemnon snapped, staring at his hands. Hands a goddess would have him murder his own beloved, oldest daughter for. That he hand this task, this foul thing, over to someone else was as unthinkable as doing it at all. If it should happen, he would do it himself, but it wasn't going to happen. But if it didn't happen, then their name would be left besmirched, his brother's home and person insulted and left to be laughed at, and the glory and gain to be won, surely beyond counting, lost.

To be sure, leaving your wife with an unknown guest in your halls was reckless and foolish, too trusting of both strange man and beloved wife, but Alexander of Troy had been a guest - it was unconscionable that he should then repay his host the way he had. More than that, the host had been Menelaos, his little brother. The memory of coming into the room Idomeneus had given Menelaos and seeing him on the bed as if all life and vitality had left him still hurt.

"I didn't say you should," Menelaos growled, whirling around but pausing in his pacing to stare at Agamemnon from across the tent, brown eyes ablaze and the light from the lamps catching bloody in his pale, red-blond hair. "Blessed gods, brother, what do you take me for? There has been enough death in this house, I wouldn't ask any more of you!"

Slowly, Agamemnon tightened his hands into fists, though that didn't so much hide the tremble in them as subsume it, setting his very blood to vibrating, his veins pulsing in answer until his skin was buzzing from fingertips to armpit. Menelaos wasn't lying, of course. He didn't want Agamemnon hurt, or to hurt him, both for perfectly normal, brotherly reasons as well as to hold the darkness that always lurked at bay, fangs bloody in the dark, waiting. But there was, still, an edge to his words, in his voice, like a knife hidden under the well-appointed, beautiful dress of a woman plotting as only women could, resorting to subterfuge for that was both their nature and their need.

"And yet you have more. Out with it."

They stared at each other for a beat, a pulse jumping in Agamemnon's jaw to match the one at Menelaos' temple, and then his little brother grit his teeth, usually so very warm eyes narrowing. There was a time those eyes had looked at him with nothing but beseeching need, searching him out for every little bruise that tender heart had suffered, knowing not the worser pains Agamemnon had gone to lengths to shield him from. Maybe if he had refused to help his brother in winning Helen and redirected him towards another potential wife, they wouldn't be here. On the other hand, what was the chances no one at all wouldn't have tried what Alexander of Troy had, even if Helen would have been married to Achilles?

"I will not ask you, and I won't demand it, but I wouldn't even have to if you hadn't opened your mouth! What were you thinking! A deer in her own sanctuary, and even if not, you claimed yourself better than one of the Deathless Ones instead of thanking her for the kill, and now I should be left with nothing but ruin and laughter, completely aside from not knowing what I'm leaving Helen to?"

"From what you told me of him, that boy could not force her if he so went to her bed when she would be sleeping and could put up no resistance." This was not acknowledging the real source of Menelaos' anger, but Agamemnon felt little desire to admit to it. Of course, he could not sit there and watch his little brother flinch as if he'd slapped him, looking away and seeming to collapse in on himself.

"Helen wouldn't have gone willingly," Menelaos whispered, hands tremblingly tight in fists at his sides, and Agamemnon bit down on the next few words, knowing Menelaos knew she must have, for he'd accused her of that to Agamemnon himself on the way to Sparta from Crete, furious and hurt for a blazingly glorious moment. The problem was Menelaos' anger could never quite be sustained for long whenever it was roused, and now he had retreated into soft-hearted pain and the security of insisting the ridiculous, woman-mad pretty boy had forced Helen from Sparta and to the ships.

Grunting, Agamemnon drew breath to - redirect the conversation, if not apologize, but Menelaos got there before him, and he should probably have expected the shape of the retaliation.

"What do you care for, in the end? For me, at all, when you insult a goddess just as we are about to set off, my grief finally to be assuaged, and you're unwilling to repay her the respect you lost her, even as cruel as her demand is? Or only for wealth and glory, which can be easily discarded at the slightest opposition, considering the wealth of Mycenae? If this was about wealth and renown, you know I wouldn't be here, and I would be urging you against the whole of the gathered sons of Argos and the Danaans if they were the ones howling for your daughter's blood for favourable winds to win them their promised glo---!"

"So you would have me sacrifice my daughter for you? One half of my heart for the other?" Agamemnon bellowed, surging to his feet, and knowing not what hurt more - that he might be considering it exactly for that, or that Menelaos was leveraging himself this way.

"No!"

It wasn't much of a consolation that Menelaos seemed horrified, even when that had been exactly what he'd implied in his anger. Choking on something hot and wet, Agamemnon halted in his advance, but Menelaos came to meet him, clutching his arms and now meeting his eyes unflinchingly. If Agamemnon only could do the same, but he was staring over the top of Menelaos' head, the lush, soft tumble of half-wavy hair still in disarray from their walk here through the rising storm winds. He hadn't noticed he was shaking, and not just his hands.

"I would rather we not be here at all, Agamemnon. I would rather not be responsible for the lives of all these men, young and seasoned both, rather not be the reason they're here, and the deaths that will come of this already pains me." Menelaos grimaced, jaw, lips, tight, which hid the briefest of trembles to his usually soft mouth. Agamemnon couldn't remember when he last saw his little brother smile, and something hurt within. It was far too reminiscent of when they were younger, when Menelaos had been slender as a whip and creeping quietly around, tense as a fawn walking out into the open for the first time, following its mother but fearing any nearby hidden wolves and its sharp, slavering jaws, thirsty for tender flesh and young blood, so as to not arouse their father's anger. "And I don't want to see Iphigenia's blood on the altar, for the pleasure of cruel gods who care more for their Trojan sacrifices than the golden laws of hospitality the son of Kronos himself guards. But I can't just turn back, either. What sort of man would I be, then, to neither defend my wife or punish the crime, to let a far lesser man take something so precious from me, away from Achaea and Sparta itself, where Helen belongs?"

Menelaos closed his eyes, shaking his head. "And I know the chance she left unwillingly is slim, but if there was even the barest of risks of that, how could I leave her to suffer continually at the hands of the man who stole her?"

When he opened his eyes again, Menelaos was stiff as he squeezed Agamemnon's arms and said nothing more, merely watched him with a tense, dark look that had become far too familiar in the last five years. Even the slave woman he'd gone to pains to find for his brother had not ever stirred even the smallest edge of Menelaos' usual smile, though she did delight him, he knew. And if they - he - did nothing, how long could he expect Menelaos to be respected on Sparta's throne? How long until he would have to field disrespect against both of their thrones, against his brother personally? He did not want to see him in more pain, but Iphigenia...

Agamemnon's heart quavered, and he lurched forward, clutching Menelaos to himself, and if there was a wounded noise that escaped him, at least it was hidden in his brother's hair.

"My daughter. How can she ask for my daughter, even if she kills women, young and old, at whim?" Agamemnon groaned, but could not deny Artemis had a right to her recompense, as little as he was going to admit it. The words had been said, and he had been the one to say them, and he couldn't imagine disbanding the army, as close to it as he'd been before Menelaos had shouted at him over the wind that they needed to talk things over. But talking things over had merely put his brother right in front of him, his brother who'd been grievously insulted and maltreated, his brother who Agamemnon was still furious to see losing both spark and smile since Helen had left.

"I don't know," Menelaos murmured, wrapping his arms around him. "I don't know."

His brother, and his daughter.

Agamemnon closed his eyes, but could not escape the memory of Iphigenia's glowing smile as she sang at dinner the evening before they set off for Aulis a second time, proud for her father, for the glory they were to win, respect rewon. His darling, sweet-faced Iphigenia, with her dark, curly hair and bright eyes, who'd liked to 'provoke' him into chasing her when she was younger, growling like the most ferocious of wolves and herself shrieking in horrified delight.

Agamemnon shook until he was still, digging bruises into Menelaos' shoulders, wetting his hair, and then he took a breath.

"We could put it to a vote," Menelaos offered, then, and eyes still closed, Agamemnon pulled back to shake his brother a little.

"I am not putting my daughter's life to a vote among the council. If I am doing this, I am doing it by my own decision, by my own hand, as it was my own words that landed us here. Nothing more, nothing less!"

His daughter, and his brother.

In the end, the decision, as heavy as it was, as cold as it made him, was, perhaps, foregone.

* An attempt at using both the hints of variant traditional material where Agamemnon and Menelaos’ relationship isn’t as simple as the older brother eclipsing the younger and Menelaos giving way to Agamemnon in all things, but without turning Menelaos (or Agamemnon, for that matter) into some terrible villainised version of himself as seemed to have been popular to make of him in a number of plays. Also to deal with Agamemnon coming to the decision to sacrifice Iphigenia.

[lynne-monstr]

Writers Month Day 14: Fairy Tale

prompt requested by @ketzwrites (thanks!)

.

There’s a prince locked away in the tallest tower of Edom, kept prisoner by his evil demon father. Alec intends to rescue him and make him his husband.

“What, really?” Isabelle asks, arms crossed over her chest.

“I mean, not if he doesn’t want to,” Alec responds. “But come on, he’s got to be bored up there all alone. It’s a good deal. He’d be a fool to turn it down.”

“Wow, and they say romance is dead.���

“Not all of us were lucky enough to find love on the training field,” Alec shoots back.

Isabelle smiles in a way that softens her whole face. It’s widely known throughout the kingdom that the only thing more terrifying than Isabelle Lightwood on the training field is when she and her wife team up to take challengers. But the downside of her whirlwind marriage to Lydia Branwell is that it had knocked from the running the only contender who qualified by the Nephilim’s own ancient laws to share the throne with Alec by marriage.

Not that Prince Alec is upset by that. If anything, he’s relieved. With Lydia off the market, there’s no pressure on him to propose an unwanted match. It does, however, leave the throne vulnerable.

“So that’s your plan?” Isabelle asks. “Sneak into Edom and hope to get a marriage contract signed just for showing up and smiling.”

“And slaying the dragon.” Alec’s looking forward to that part. He has a new bow and everything. It shoots five arrows. Five.

Isabelle doesn’t look convinced. “How do you know this guy even likes men?”

Alec groans. “Come on, Izzy, I did my research in the archives. Magnus Bane once put a sign in front of his tower that read ‘Caution: Goes Both Ways.’ I think it’s safe to say he likes guys.”

The question is, would Magnus Bane like him? At least, would he like him enough to say yes. Alec is trying not to think too hard about the answer. He can’t afford to fail in this quest.

Isabelle looks impressed before her forehead scrunches up in a way Alec would never dare call adorable to her face. “How’d he do that if he’s locked up?”

“Magic, I guess? He’s a warlock.” Alec frowns. “Why are you so against this anyway? You know the laws as well as I do. If I don’t marry before I turn 25, the Morgensterns have legal grounds to challenge our right to the crown. I have to do this.”

“I know, Alec. It’s just…what about love? You deserve to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy when I secure the throne.” Alec grins and hopes it doesn’t look strained. Happiness was never in the cards for him. “Besides, it’s just Edom. And a dragon. How hard can it be?”

.

(Several Days Later. In Edom.)

Alec backs into the hard stone wall, his own arrow digging into his throat.

“I’m here to rescue you!” he shouts. The words cause the sharpened point to dig into his throat and he winces.

“Not another one,” Magnus Bane mutters. He’s on the opposite side of the room, his hands a matching red to the magic levitating Alec’s arrow. Both eyebrows arch upwards in a way that drips sarcasm. “How’s that going for you?”

Alec stops trying to duck around the arrow. It’s a lost cause. “Not great, but I think you can see that.”

There’s a spare dagger sheathed at his back but he doesn’t draw it. For all he’s being threatened, it’s more playful than hostile. The tip of his arrows are sharpened to a fine enough point to pierce any object, yet not a single drop of blood has been drawn from his throat.

Besides, he’s a little busy staring at Magnus Bane.

There are few sketches of the captive warlock in the archives and none of them do him justice. Captive warlock might be a slight misnomer, he corrects, mentally cursing the archives of Alicante. Nowhere in his research did it suggest that Magnus Bane has anywhere near the level of power he’s displaying. Whatever’s keeping him in this tower, it isn’t the scraps of low-level entrapment spells that barely cover the entrances.

He’s also the most beautiful man Prince Alec has ever laid eyes on. His dark hair is styled high on his head and his clothing is fine enough to cost a good chunk of Alec’s monthly household budget. The dramatic makeup isn’t something Alec usually sees on men, but it suits him. Silver metal glints on his fingers and his chest, swaying with him as he moves. He looks equal parts deadly and drop dead gorgeous.

Alec doesn’t realize his tongue has darted out to lick his lips until Magnus’ deeply lines eyes flicker down to look at his mouth. A surge of heat rushes downwards and he shifts against where he’s pressed against the wall.

“Um, can you let me go now?” Alec asks.

“Let you go?” Magnus’ expression darkens. “I should throw you in the dungeon for what you did to Harold.”

“Harold?”

Magnus gestures towards the injured dragon behind him. The beast has four arrows sticking out of its hide. As if sensing prying eyes, it whines in what sounds like pain and hides its head. “I don’t take lightly to people hurting my friends.”

“I was trying to rescue you!”

An whirlwind rages in Magnus’ eyes as he spits out each word.“You broke into my home. The only person I need to be rescued from is you.” He curls his lips as he adds, “And I’m doing a stellar job of it, if I do say so myself.”

He raises an arm and Alec tenses, ready to pull his blade and fight, but Magnus merely places his hand on the dragon’s hide. Moments later, the arrows fall to the floor and the wounds heal in a flash of bright blue.

The dragon makes a noise like an excited puppy and stretches out its long neck to nuzzle Magnus’ stomach. Magnus scratches under his dragon’s chin and turns back to Alec. “Now, where were we?”

“Prince Bane.” Alec draws himself up the way he was taught in his earliest etiquette lessons. “I’ve transgressed on your home and I offer my apologies to you and your—” Alec looks at the dragon, who has its eyes closed as Magnus lavishes it with attention, “—your friend,” he finishes, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Magnus’ face brightens. “Most people don’t include Harold in their apology.” He snaps a finger and the arrow at Alec’s neck falls to the ground, the red cloud holding it in place dissipating in a soft pop.

Alec rubs at his neck. “I take it you don’t need to be rescued.”

“Do you have any idea how many books are in this tower?” Magnus’ eyes light up. “I think it used to be a library in the days Before. There’s more magical knowledge here than in the whole of Edom. Why would I want to leave and set foot in my father’s kingdom that only knows war and suffering? I’m happy where I am.”

Each word is a blow and Alec struggles not to show his despair. His quest is a failure. There are other potential matches he can proposition, but the Lightwoods are running out of time and Magnus Bane was the closest available option. Alec doesn’t have time to try again.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Magnus says, either not realizing or not caring that Alec’s world is falling apart. His shoulders sway slightly as his eyes graze over Alec from head to toe. “We can make the best of it, handsome. I can pretend, if that’s what you’re into. I do a great warlock in distress routine.” He taps his lip with the hand not petting Harold’s scales. “Play your cards right and you can even tie me up before you ‘save’ me.”

Alec nearly trips over his own feet at the realization of what Magnus is suggesting, his thoughts of mounting his family’s defense against the Morgensterns scattering to the oppressive Edom wind.

He can feel the blood rushing to his face. None of his research has prepared him for meeting Magnus Bane. He shakes away the image of Magnus bound up in rope the color of his magic. He’ll think about it later. Much later. When he’s back in his bed behind a locked door.

Right now he has more pressing matters at hand. Princely matters. “Actually, I was thinking marriage.” He came all this way, he may as well take his shot.

Magnus freezes. “Excuse me?”

“I mean,” Alec stumbles to halt. Because that’s exactly what he means. But now, standing in front of his intended, this whole matrimony in exchange for rescue thing seems a lot sketchier than it did in his etiquette books. What can he say to explain why he’d make a good husband. I stalked you, broke into your home, and attacked your friend isn’t exactly a rousing endorsement.

Did other princes really do this? And their princes and princesses agreed to it?

Nevertheless, he steels himself for rejection and explains his people’s predicament. Magnus looks in turn guarded and sympathetic as the full story tumbles out. It isn’t until Alec gets to the part about Valentine’s son Jonathan, whose secret plan is to summon the demon Lilith that Magnus startles.

“Lilith is an ancient enemy of my people as well.” For the first time, Magnus looks discomfited. “She can’t be allowed to roam free.”

“If you marry me, she won’t.”

“You really know how to lay the romance on thick, don’t you.” The words are eerily similar to Isabelle’s own admonition, days earlier. Alec misses her with a fierce ache in his heart but doesn’t have time to dwell on it as Magnus purses his lips and adds, “I’ll need my own closet.”

Alec nods. “Consider it done.”

“And Harold will be given free reign over the kingdom.”

“Naturally.”

“There’s only one last thing. A test, if you will. If you pass, consider my agreement given.”

Alec straightens, hands naturally falling to clasp behind him. “Name it.”

“A kiss.” Magnus takes a step forward, his eyes both an invitation and a challenge.

It’s a challenge Alec readily accepts. In a few long, confident strides he closes the space between them.

The Prince of Edom is a tall man, but those last couple inches mean that he has to look up to meet Alec’s gaze. Ever so gently, Alec curls his hands on either side of Magnus’ neck, thumbs pressing against the underside of his jaw until his head is tilted back enough for Alec’s liking.

Their kiss is the barest press of lips, but Alec feels like he’s drowning.

Magnus tastes like fruit from his lip balm, and the stubble of his facial hair scratches lightly against Alec’s chin. He can feel the racing pulse of Magnus’ throat against his fingers, along with the cool touch of the many necklaces against his palms. Magnus’ own hands clench a bruising grip around Alec’s hips, keeping him in place with a ferocity that lights a spark of hope within Alec, that perhaps Magnus feels the potential igniting between them.

After what feels like forever, they part.

Neither of them is eager to move and in a calculated risk, Alec lets his head drop so his forehead rests against Magnus. His hands uncurl, sliding down to a more appropriate place on Magnus’ shoulders. His very large, very muscular shoulders.

Please let him say yes.

Alec wants this match for the good of his people but, unexpectedly and for the first time, he wants it for himself. He wants Magnus. Not just his body, but his quick wit and his fire and his willingness to throw himself off into the arms of a stranger and a strange kingdom for his people’s safety.

Reluctantly, Alec pulls back into his own space.

“Did I pass?” Alec says.

“Oh that’s one word for it.” Magnus seems to remember himself and straightens so his posture matches Alec’s own. “I accept your offer, Prince Alec.”

Alec can’t help the small, hopeful grin that stretches across his face.

.

(“About the closet. How big is it, exactly?” Magnus asks, as he leads Alec deeper into his tower so they can start planning.)

.

Prince Alec returns to his land and he brings his husband Prince Magnus with him.

[madlori]

Unveiled Chapter 5

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2500 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Definitely sex in this one.

Read it on AO3

Just before lunch, Dr. Rjskov came to Zhenya’s office. “It’s about His Highness, sir.”

Zhenya jumped up. “Is he all right?”

“He’s quite well. But his best fertility window is closing for the month. I thought you should be advised. It is of course up to you and your husband how you conduct your relationship, but he’ll be unlikely to conceive as of this afternoon.”

“This...afternoon?”

“Yes, I advised His Highness that his hormones were shifting last night, and that they’d reach their baseline levels around lunchtime today.”

“Ah.” Zhenya sat down, feeling a little deflated. That explained the surprise morning sex. His consort had wanted one last try for a conception before his fertility window closed. It had nothing to do with any thirst he had for Zhenya’s cock. “Thank you for the update, Doctor. You’ll advise us when his fertility window reopens?”

“Of course, sir. About three weeks.” He bowed and excused himself.

Zhenya sat there for a few minutes, staring down at his desktop, littered with the latest notes and suggestions from his consort’s perusal of the memos and white papers he’d gotten from Seryozha. He got to his feet, grabbed his coat and strode out of the office.

A walk. That was a fine idea. That’d set him to rights.

It was sort of working, too, until he took a turn around the athletic fields and came upon the consort and his guards in the lower rugby pitch. They were engaged in some kind of hand-to-hand combat training and, to his surprise, his husband was participating in it.

The guards were all clad in black training gear; a variety of pads, weapons and training aids were scattered in the grass. His stomach clenched; his consort was sparring with Sidney. Because that was just what he needed -- to watch a karmic re-enactment of his inner turmoil.

Sidney was shirtless, his muscled torso shining with sweat and his hands and wrists wrapped. Zhenya’s consort was wearing the same training kit the other guards were wearing, with the addition of...well, he wouldn’t have thought there was such a thing as an athletic veil, but there seemed to be. These gray veils looked to be lighter weight than his usual ones but were still opaque, and they were fastened to his clothing at strategic points to prevent them from flying up and exposing him when he moved quickly. The sides were shorter, to let his arms move freely, but his torso was still covered.

Zhenya lurked in the shadows near the gear shed and watched, feeling like a creeper. Letang was directing the sparring, and neither Sidney nor the consort seemed to be holding anything back. He watched as they moved quickly around each other, hands and feet flashing, his consort’s veils billowing around his head. Sidney was laughing, and Zhenya suddenly realized that his consort was, too. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware that Zhenya could hear him. It would be improper for him to continue to observe in secret.

He stepped out of the shadows and approached, telling himself that he had every right to walk on the grounds of his own palace. His consort saw him and abruptly drew back, causing Sidney to turn around to see what had gotten the consort’s attention. He grinned -- dear God, that smile. Zhenya forced himself to look only at his consort as he nodded to him and the rest of the group.

“Your Royal Highness, good morning,” Fleury said. “We were just sparring. We’re all feeling like we need some exercise.”

Zhenya nodded. As long as his consort was present, he was prohibited from speaking, a fact that Fleury seemed to abruptly remember. “Of course. Uh...your Highness, perhaps Kris should escort you back to the palace.”

The consort waved to him; Zhenya waved back as Letang and another of the guards (his name started with J...was it Justin? Jeff?) flanked him and they walked back up the hill. 

The other guards were gathering up the pads and gear. “If you’ll excuse us, sir, we should return to our duties.” Fleury bowed and followed Kris, the rest of the guards save Sidney trailing behind him.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your exercise,” Zhenya said.

Sidney shrugged, unwinding the tape from his hands. “We got in a good hour. He was feeling restless.”

“Were you going easy on him?”

“Did it look that way?”

“No, it didn’t.”

“He doesn’t need me to. He’s a good fighter. Almost as good as me,” he said, winking. “Then again, I taught him everything he knows.”

Zhenya shoved his hands in his pockets. “I keep stumbling over skills my husband possesses which I do not.”

“You could learn. I’ll teach you.”

“I’m a bit old to learn new tricks.”

“Ah yes, so old. What are you, twenty-seven?”

“Suck-up. I’m thirty-one, as you well know.”

“I’m thirty. Do I seem infirm to you?”

He couldn’t help it, his eyes crawled down Sidney’s absolutely not-infirm body. “No.”

“You’re in good shape, I’ve seen you running on the grounds.”

Zhenya swallowed hard at the thought of Sidney watching him run. “I do have a concern about my consort engaging in this kind of exercise. It’s too early for us to know, but he very well could be pregnant. Given how much effort we put into getting him that way, a stray blow to the stomach seems like a big risk. It could jeopardize everything.”

Sidney’s jaw tightened a little. “Isn’t that his call to make?”

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable that I have some input as well.”

Sidney kept his eyes on his tape-unwinding. “Perhaps he didn’t think about that. I’ll remind him. There are ways we can spar that wouldn’t pose a danger.” He met Zhenya’s eyes. “He’d no more want to endanger a pregnancy than you would, that much I know.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“He’s…” Sidney pulled on his shirt and shouldered his bag. “I think he might be frustrated that the fertility window is up today.”

“I’ve been advised. I’m surprised he’d share that with you, if you’ll pardon me saying so.”

“There isn’t a lot we don’t share between us. All of us. We’re the only ones he can really be free with. For the time being.”

“Of course.” They started walking back toward the palace. “I admit I don’t really know what to do now. I’d be disappointed not to see him for three weeks.”

“You mean not to sleep with him.”

“Only in part.”

“You think he would want to stop until the next window?”

“I have no idea what he wants.” Zhenya couldn’t believe he was discussing what was a private matter between him and his consort with a man who he could no longer deny he was wildly attracted to. “If our goal is his fertilization, why would he wish to continue?”

Sidney laughed. “You have strange ideas about consorts. The veil doesn’t turn off his libido. He’s a human, Zhenya. Of course he’s going to want to keep having sex. He has an attractive partner available to him on demand. Why wouldn’t he keep partaking of that?”

Zhenya had stopped walking and just stood there, blinking. “You think so?”

He looked back, amusement in his eyes. “I’m kind of amazed I have to tell you that.”

His mind was rewinding Sidney’s statement. “You think I’m attractive?”

A flush bloomed on Sidney’s cheeks. “Just quoting the consort.”

“Oh.” Zhenya hesitated. “He thinks I’m attractive?”

“Quit fishing for compliments,” Sidney said, laughing.

Zhenya resumed walking at Sidney’s side. “You called me Zhenya.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

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

Zhenya did not receive an appointment confirmation card that afternoon, to his dismay. What he did receive was another knock on his door later that evening, after he had retired to his chamber. He nearly injured himself leaping off the bed and dashing to respond.

He barely had the door shut behind him before his consort was undressing him again, but this time Zhenya intended to make his own plans. He slid his hand around the consort’s waist and down to cup his ass, pulling him tight to his chest. His other hand dipped between the consort’s legs to grasp his stiffening cock. He gave it a few strokes, staring down at his husband’s veiled face and wishing he could see his eyes, and then Zhenya dropped to his knees before him. He heard a quiet sigh from above that turned into a surprised gasp when he swallowed him down, allowing himself the pleasure of grabbing two large handfuls of his backside. He felt hands grip his hair and the consort rocked forward into his mouth. Zhenya pulled back a little and tugged at his hips, hoping to communicate to him that yes, that was what he should do. The consort got the message and began to fuck his mouth, cautiously at first and then with more vigor as Zhenya encouraged him with tugs and strokes and glances up at his veiled face. He slipped one hand between the consort’s legs and found him wet; Zhenya slid two fingers into his pussy and stroked him, eliciting more strangled gasps and groans from above. His fingers wet, he moved them back to his ass, circling the entrance for a moment to give him time to object, and when no objection came, slid one, then two inside.

That pushed his partner right over the edge. He grunted and came hard down Zhenya’s throat. Zhenya pulled off and stroked him through it, his consort’s whole body quivering. His husband dropped to his knees and let his veiled head fall to Zhenya’s shoulder; he was limp dead weight in Zhenya’s arms. Zhenya grinned, pleased with this result. 

The consort’s hand wandered to Zhenya’s still-hard cock, a clear offer to assist him, but he moved it away. He guided the consort to the bed -- all he wanted right now was to jerk off all over that magnificent ass. Somehow through a mixture of gestures and touches, this was communicated between them, and his husband laid himself out very appealingly on the bed, back arched and legs spread to present his rear to its best advantage. Zhenya knelt between his spread legs and quickly fisted his cock. His consort reached back with both hands to spread his cheeks wide, his head turned so he could watch Zhenya over his shoulder. Zhenya groaned and spurted his come over the round cheeks and his consort’s exposed hole. After a few moments’ recovery, he picked up one of the many towels placed around the bedchamber by the long-suffering palace attendants and wiped his partner clean, or as clean as could be achieved in this moment.

The consort turned on his side, propping his head on an elbow as if contemplating this prince he’d married. Zhenya smiled, indicating his sleepiness with a fake yawn. The consort shifted again, moving to his back and leaning his shoulders against the copious pillows on the bed. He arranged his veils, held out his arms and beckoned with his fingers. A thrill ran up Zhenya’s spine -- was he being invited to stay with him, here? It certainly seemed so.

He crawled up the bed into the waiting, veiled arms of his husband of six days and nestled his head down in the hollow of his shoulder, draping his body across the partially hidden one beneath him. His consort’s arms came up around him and held him; peace stole across his mind and ushered him quickly into sleep.

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

“You’re in a good mood.” Sidney said, casting his line over the lake with a practiced flick of his wrist. Zhenya had started out fishing, but had given it up and was now just lounging on the dock with an ale, watching Sidney fish and absolutely not admiring the flex of his legs and back when he cast.

“I slept well.” Indeed, in his consort’s arms he had slept better than he had in months. They’d both slept like the dead and woken up slowly, touching each other awake in the dim morning light and having gentle, drowsy sex before either of them were fully alert, his husband’s body warm and welcoming, twined around him like a climbing vine. Zhenya could still feel the smooth tightness of the consort’s pussy as he’d fucked him, one of his legs hooked over Zhenya’s forearm, his hands gripping Zhenya’s shoulders and pulling him in, urging him deeper.

“Well, that’s good. Everyone needs sleep.”

Zhenya hesitated, but it seemed silly now to turn reticent. Sidney seemed to always know everything, anyway. “You were right about the consort. He still wants to have sex with me.”

“Oh, for sure. Who wouldn’t?”

“I keep waiting to find out what you’re buttering me up for.”

“You’re going to be King, isn’t that enough?” he said, looking over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk. “Doesn’t everyone suck up to you?”

“My staff don’t seem to have gotten that memo, and my friends seem to actively do the opposite.”

Sidney kept casting. “Just out of curiosity, why aren’t you the one trying to get pregnant?”

“It’s the custom. I’m the royal one.”

“The kid would be half you either way.”

“True. This is just the way it’s done. If I’d been married off to a prince and gone to another country to be his consort, I’d be the one getting knocked up.” Zhenya frowned. “Does he resent that?”

Sidney shrugged. “Not that he’s mentioned. He always talked about wanting kids. I don’t think he cared if he was going to be the one carrying them or not.”

“Tradition encourages the consort to carry the first one, but nothing’s to stop me from carrying a second one, should we decide to have another. It would be unusual, but it’s not forbidden. Maybe we could trade off.”

“Seems fair.”

“I’m glad he wants children, and it’s not just duty. It’s nice when arranged marriages aren’t entirely abhorrent.”

“He always knew he’d have one -- an arranged marriage, I mean. He tried to look at it as a way to contribute.”

“Well, he’s certainly done that.” Zhenya got up and joined him on the shore. “Why do we always talk about him?”

“He’s what we have in common.”

“Is that all?”

Sidney looked at him. “I hope not.”

“Tell me about where you grew up. Your childhood.”

He grinned. “You don’t want to hear about my stupid kid escapades.”

“Well, now I want to hear about them more.” He watched Sidney’s face flush and brighten as he began to recount a wild tale about his best friend Marc-Andre and a runaway toy wagon, and wondered why on earth he continued to torture himself.

Next Chapter

[crystalrequiem]

The Voice that Urged Orpheus

[Part 3/6(?)] [TRC] Summary: Kurogane learns more about a mysterious new world and accidentally seals his own doomed fate. Tags: Kuro/Fai, Canon Universe, Post-Canon, Warnings:  suggestive thoughts and implications (nothing graphic), People assuming married status, GOD, so much fluff, Is it still slow-burn if they’re already in a relationship? because that’s basically what this is. [Part 1] [Part 2]... [Part 4]

Honestly this section probably should have just been included with the one previous. Not as happy with it because it feels less... cohesive? directed? meh.  Nevertheless I feel like it’s necessary to set up some of the world-building so I can get to the good points later. Hope you still enjoy! I really look forward to reading your comments and tags. They seriously keep me going!  

The shopkeep, it turns out, does look a little familiar. She has dark-skin and a well-toned frame, pretty face framed by a shower of pink, fluffy hair. He doesn’t think any version of her has ever been a particularly close friend, but something about her rings a bell anyway.

“Hello, hello! Your young friend here was just telling me you wa—wow.” She seems perfectly amiable but the moment Fai steps fully into view, her whole expression shifts. Her jaw drops, and the wide eyes she graces them with matches the expressions they’ve been earning outside. “Oh-ho-kay, Hi! I’m so sorry; I didn’t think anyone from the academy would stop by, uh. How—how can I help you?”

Kurogane and Fai search each other out long enough to share a moment of confusion.

“Academy?” the mage echoes. However badly Kurogane’s attempt at reassurance rattled him before, he displays no indication now. Given his ability to bury his feelings beneath exhausting layers of façade, this comes as no surprise.

“Yes? I mean—I just assumed… what with your magic the way it is—” She glances from Fai to Kurogane and back, shock and bewilderment only incrementing. “Do you—are you two sharing the same magic?”

Alright, so they’ve at least found a reason for the staring. Apparently the people of this world can commonly sense magic, and they find something strange. Something about himself and Fai, in particular. Kurogane breathes a little easier given an idea of what makes them stand out. He just wishes he had any hope of keeping up with the why. Magic focused-worlds make his head spin.  

At least for right now, Fai seems equally clueless.

“No, I don’t think we are,” he answers, bemused.  

“Wow. Hunh.” Her eyes catch on something they can’t see, staring into the empty air between them.

“Actually, Miss Caldina,” Syaoran leaps to the rescue in the awkward silence that follows. “When I said we were travelers from far away, I meant… We’re from very far. We don’t really know anything about this place. Is there any way you could explain a few things about the area?”

The woman, apparently named Caldina, breaks herself from her trance. She pats her face with both hands hard enough to produce a resounding slap. “Sorry! That was rude of me. Let’s start over. Hello, Welcome to the Enchantress. Why don’t you nice folks ask me your questions and I’ll see what I can do?”

A world where everyone can see and use magic.

Kurogane doesn’t get most of what Caldina says, nor does he really understand what Fai and Syaoran ask in return, but he understands that much. People here… see magic. How much potential people have, the spells they cast, the lingering enchantments in his arm, and now his cloak.

According to the shopkeep, Syaoran’s magic stands out on its own—a prodigy, for certain. That alone might distract the townsfolk, but… Fai brings it to a whole other level.

Apparently Fai’s magic is dazzling. He stands visibly above the rest. Caldina had taken a single look and assumed he must belong to the city’s prestigious Academy, where this world’s best casters gather to learn and teach, developing the field of magic further. Then she’d spotted Kurogane and nearly had a heart attack.

“It’s like looking at a flame about to go out—for I second I thought you were dead! No offense!” He doesn’t know how the comparison to a corpse should not offend him, but in the context of magic he supposes he doesn’t mind. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone live with as little magic. I thought your husband must have been pulling from you or masking you or something.”

Chaos reigns as soon as she completes the sentence. Mokona bursts into a flurry of giggles, rolling across Syaoran’s shoulders. The Kid stares at his fellow travelers like a deer caught in lamplight, and Kurogane… looks to Fai.

The mage doesn’t react to Caldina’s mistaken assumption save for the extra-bright flush rising to his cheeks, visible even despite the sunburn.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips quirked in a teasing half-smile, “You’d be surprised how little magic people really need to live.” He doesn’t contradict her. He wants to tease—to fall back into their game of overreaction and meaningless words. Fai meets Kurogane’s eye like he’s issuing a challenge—just waiting for the embarrassment to overwhelm the surly ninja and push him to set the record straight.

He doesn’t.

Once upon a time he would have died of mortification and flown right off the handle to hear someone call Fai his husband. But right now… well it’s kind of his goal, isn’t it? It only annoys him that apparently people other than Fai don’t need his intentions spelled out for them.

Eventually, his family realizes he doesn’t plan to say a word. Mokona’s celebration falls to a hush and Syaoran clearly has no idea what to do. Fai’s expression remains implacable, save for the distinctive blush still written on his face.

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” Caldina drawls.

“Not really! It’s just that those two aren’t married..?” Syaoran takes pity on them all and lets her know, though the fact that he phrases it as a question doesn’t skip Kurogane’s notice.

The poor shopkeeper visibly takes a moment to process this information, flabbergasted. She stares again at whatever it is she can trace between himself and Fai, and shakes her head. “Why not?” her expression reads quite clearly. And boy, does Kurogane not have an answer to that.

“I’m doing a great job of putting my foot in my mouth today.”

“It’s fine! Sometimes Mokona forgets they aren’t really married too.” The manjuu chimes amidst nervous laughter.

Kurogane huffs and turns away, tuning out the cheerful banter that follows. Maybe this is part of his problem. After everything, he feels so close to Fai that even marriage can’t quite encapsulate what they already are to each other. In the end, the extra title of “husbands” won’t change them. It won’t make Fai more or less than he is, or guarantee a forever, or do anything other than put a layer of formality over what they already have.  

Still… there’s something about that formalization that he wants. A definite moment in time he can point to as a promise made, a good memory he can give to Fai who has so many to outweigh it, a declaration of intent that the world can’t ignore… He wants to ask for that.

Maybe he’s just a sentimental fool.

He emerges from his thoughts, watching as the shopkeeper purchases a few of their curios for what seems like a decent sum of currency. They exit the shop with a little more confidence and directions to the famed Academy of Chizeta.

“Shall we?” Fai charms, gesturing theatrically towards the direction of the supposed academy. His early sunburn has settled on a pink that gives him a permanent look of over-heated exertion.

Kurogane squints in the too-bright sunlight, but only Fai truly blinds him. The jerk has no business being so damn attractive. Especially not when he’s going to permanently damage his skin at this rate, walking around with his hood down. The urge to thread his fingers through sweat-dampened gold and kiss that stupid grin off his face strikes Kurogane with all the force of a hurricane. He reaches out before he can stop himself and only manages to switch tacks at the last second, tugging Fai’s hood up far enough to cover his eyes.

“You’re gonna burn, dumbass.”

The line of Fai’s mouth tilts from shocked to pleased in moments, and the mage laughs, reaching up to adjust his cloak enough to see. Shit, Kurogane feels weak to that sound every time—unguarded and honest.

“Looking out for me?” Fai teases.

“Always.”

The word escapes him before he can think twice, but he can’t regret it. At least it forms some part of the mess he so badly wants to communicate. This time, Fai takes his desperate sentimentality a little better. He shakes his head, frustration and affection swimming in a churning cocktail of emotion behind his too-blue gaze.

“You’re hopeless.” He touches Kurogane’s shoulder as he sighs the words, sending a renewed burst of magic into the fabric that cuts right through the re-building heat.

“Can we really be sure they aren’t married though?” Mokona’s voice shatters the moment, and Fai and Kurogane both startle badly. He lunges for the damn pork bun, ready to pound it into mochi, before he thinks better of it and remembers that the world outside his Mage exists. They’ve already begun to draw stares again. Maybe Fai’s use of magic just now looked particularly interesting? He doesn’t know.

They start their sojourn toward the school in good spirits, even despite the heat and the persistent attention. He finds himself far less paranoid, even if so many eyes still make him feel like he doesn’t quite fit in his own skin. Syaoran and Fai take the lead, talking softly about cooling charms and how they work. Eventually, Mokona catches on that his cloak has already been ensorcelled and burrows into his hood without his permission. Annoying, but… well he can’t blame the manjuu for seeking out a little relief. It is hot. Part of him wonders why Fai hasn’t copied the spell on his own clothes or Syaoran’s, whether the spell might have taken more work than he thought, and whether he should pass the chilled cloak around in turns… He’ll suggest it when they stop next.

Either way, the enchantment does its work well. The ache of his shoulder nearly disappears as magic wicks the heat away. Less distracted by pain, he has a far easier time monitoring the stares they gather. He can track the eyes of others lining the crowded city streets as they trace lines of invisible magic. A few people glance his way in confusion, but for the most part, Fai and Syaoran draw a majority of the attention.

He thinks of Caldina, pleased and impressed just by the sight of them, able to gauge magic power with a glance, and something like pride struggles to escape him. It buoys upwards, a nervous bubble caught in his chest. So maybe he feels like the kid and mage deserve a little recognition… surely there’s nothing strange about that.

He can’t help wondering what they must look like.

“Everyone is so interested in Fai! Seeing magic must be very exciting. Mokona wants to see too.” The pork bun mirrors his thoughts and sours his mood, speaking in that tinny voice far too close to his ear. He’s not prepared to hear the mage answer,

“Oh, it’s not so exciting really….” Fai’s gaze drifts somewhere distant as he trails off. Sadness seeps through the cracks in his mask—hard to see, but Kurogane can find it in the way he holds himself. Old, and tired. Burdened by some bad memory. The kids don’t notice.

“Does that mean you can see magic too, Fai?” Syaoran voices the thought aloud, quiet enough to escape the hearing of any onlookers, and the mage’s smile sharpens. He focuses on the boy and that heart-twisting sorrow bleeds away.

“Not naturally, like people in this world can, but there’s an old spell for it from… well.” He waves a hand, as if to knock the words from the air. Kurogane knows somehow with a distant pang that he would have said “Valeria.” “I can show you later if you really want, but I promise it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

The kids both chorus out a “Mokona does really want,” and “Yes, Please!” to the surprise of no one. Fai must have expected the children to say as much; he doesn’t so much as blink when he hears them. No. Only Kurogane’s quiet, “Sure,” shocks Fai enough to forget his words and halt him mid-step.

His cheeks burn with the weight of a different sort of stare and Kurogane looks to see his family gaping.

“What,” he grouches, and Fai rewards him with another honest laugh.

“Nothing at all, Kuro-sama.” He turns back to the path and keeps walking, careful to make sure Syaoran keeps up. “The spell has to be cast by the viewer to work. I meant to teach Syaoran, but… well…” He glances over his shoulder at both Kurogane and Mokona, smiles that slow, easy smile Kurogane loves so much. “I guess I’ll see what I can do.”  

Kurogane manages to choke out a gruff, “thanks,” and tries to ignore everyone the rest of the way to the Academy. Between Mokona’s muffled snickering at his ear and the way Fai’s every breath draws his attention like a moth to flame, he does not succeed. He tries to imagine what the magic might look like—Fai somehow brighter and more incandescent than he already is, blue eyes cutting through his soul, that signature white and blue written into his skin or drifting off him in waves...

…Fuck. He’s so doomed.

[tangled23works]

Whatever It Takes

Part 1 - I Won’t Give Up

Also read it on Archive of Our Own

This is something I wrote recently. It’s a favorite trope of mine. Since my time is limited I won’t be able to update it regularly so that is why it’s part one of a series about married olicity. Read it and tell me what you think!

I’m not tagging anyone at the moment but if you’d like me to tag you, ask!

Five weeks after the words “I want a divorce” had been uttered, Felicity stared at her husband. The huge mahogany CEO desk was between them, a symbol of all the irreconcilable differences that had separated them through their marriage.

Oliver Queen was currently dressed to the nines in a gray Armani suit, looking confident and polished in a way that Felicity Smoak, daughter of a cocktail waitress could never hope to be. The Smoaks were the complete opposites of the Queens and that should have been her first clue that this marriage was going to fail spectacularly.

She tried to focus on Oliver but truth be told, she was a little bit overwhelmed by the entire situation. The moment she had entered the office for their scheduled appointment he had dropped a major bomb. “I’m not signing these papers, Felicity.” God, the way he had said those words had grated on her nerves. So calm, so easy, so implacable… As if she had brought him Chinese for dinner and he had replied with an ‘I’m not going to eat that, Felicity’ . Such a difficult man to love. Such a difficult man to divorce.

“And why not?” she finally asked when she had found her bearings.

She needed to learn the proper legal procedure for this. Felicity had no idea how one was supposed to divorce a husband that didn’t actually want to be divorced. But she needed to be prepared. Because if he had decided that he didn’t want to be separated from her, he would fight her every step of the way. Oliver Jonas Queen was a fracking force of nature.

She was planning to contact her lawyer and then to Google for possible solutions when she noticed that the silence had stretched for too long and that his ridiculously attractive eyebrow was raised in a way that meant that he was waiting for her to focus. So she forced herself to pay attention and raised an eyebrow of her own. He didn’t laugh at her pathetic attempt. Not that he would have anyway because Oliver Queen and smiling were two things totally incompatible.

“I thought that would be obvious. I’m not signing them because I don’t want to be divorced.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to be divorced?” she asked, exasperated. “There is no reason for us to be married anymore.”

“Isn’t there?” And that annoying eyebrow was raised again.

“From the moment we met, we knew that this had an expiration date. It’s not like you love me or anything,” she fake-laughed.

They had been married for 18 months after all and for most of that time she had wished nothing more for her husband to love her. She had wished and prayed and thought of several ridiculous ways to make that happen. But it never had. Felicity Smoak would never be loved by Oliver Queen.

“Nevertheless,” he began, not bothering to deny any of what she had just said, “we are a couple and I’d like us to remain one.”

“You know, Oliver… Sometimes even I believe that you are a robot like everyone says you are.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath and was afraid that she had hurt him somehow. However, it didn’t take him more than a few seconds to recover from that verbal jab.

“Sweetheart,” the word sounded so hollow that Felicity felt like crying, “you know better than most that’s not true.”

He was talking of course about their sex life and he was not wrong. If there was one thing that they had been good at, it was sex. Until it had become a burden that she couldn’t bear any longer. Not because he was hurting her. Oliver would never, not in a million years hurt her. At least physically speaking. No, the truth was that he didn’t have any feelings for her and eventually, she had been unable to respond. It seemed that some part of her couldn’t deal with that anymore. Having sex while he didn’t give a shit about her had started to feel a lot like torture.

Felicity cleared her throat. “Anyway, you still haven’t given me one single reason why we should remain married.”

“Because of the contract you signed on your own free will. And based on that document, you have to wait at least five years before filing for divorce. I know that you’re the math whiz here but by my estimation, 18 months is not enough time.”

“When we agreed to get married, we thought Isabel Rochev had a chance at taking your company and destroying the family name. Now that she’s out of the picture, there’s no need for you to have a wife.”

“There’s every need,” he countered. He didn’t yell or even raise his voice but she knew that he was getting pissed. “Give me a chance. And if I fail, I’ll let you back out of the agreement.”

“Oh Oliver,” she said, feeling uncountably sad, “marriage is not a QC project. Better people than us have tried and failed. You cannot force personal relationships to succeed like you did with the company.”

“I can try.”

She studied him for a long moment. His clear blue eyes, his scruffy, square jaw, the way his hands rested on top of the desk and realized something.

“You’re really not going to sign the papers, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” he replied softly.

“And I can’t say or do anything to convince you otherwise?”

He shook his head.

“When you say you need time to try, how much time are we talking about?”

“Give me six months.”

“Six months? That’s too long.”

“No, it’s really not. In about six months we will have been married for two years so no one will be able to accuse us of giving up if we actually get divorced.”

Ah, so that was his problem. Of course, the son of Moira and Robert Queen cared more about what other people had to say than the fact that his wife didn’t want to live with him anymore. Appearances mattered to the Queens; people, not so much.

“I need time to think about it.”

“You’ve had five weeks, Felicity. More than enough time.”

“So, I’m assuming you want to move back in?”

During their separation, Oliver had been staying at The Strand. It was a weird choice. Although the luxurious hotel was considered one of the best in Star City and Felicity could easily imagine the CEO of Queen Consolidated booking a suite there, she thought it strange that he hadn’t chosen to stay at his parents’ house.

“Yes. I’ll ask Diggle to bring my things to the loft later.”

“Okay. By the way,” she said nonchalantly, “you’re staying in the guest room.”

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Oliver. I might have agreed to prolong this marriage for six months but you’re not going to sleep with me until I think it’s a good idea.”

“And how am I supposed to fight for us when you’re sleeping upstairs, as far away from me as possible?”

“That was the least of our problems, Oliver.”

His blue eyes narrowed. “What was our most important problem then?”

“The fact that you have no idea who I am. You don’t even see me,” she admitted. It was painful but it had to be said. She could have also added ‘You wish I was Laurel Lance’ but this was not the time or place for that particular discussion.

When he didn’t comment on that, Felicity sighed. Getting Oliver to talk about feelings was like trying to convince Moira Queen to eat a burger at Big Belly. Unfortunately, neither of these things was ever going to happen.

Frustrated with this whole conversation and his refusal to cooperate, Felicity walked towards the door.

“Anyway, I have to go. Tell Dig I’ll see him later at the loft. Bye Oliver.”

John Diggle was the only person in Oliver’s life that didn’t think of her as the cute but worthless wife. Instead, he treated her like an actual person which was very rare in the life of Star City’s rich and famous. And that was why he was her favorite by far.

“I’m glad to see you again, Mrs. Queen.”

“Oh my God, Dig! If you don’t start calling me Felicity, I’ll hack your bank accounts and donate all your money to Greenpeace.”

“Great cause,” he laughed. “Where should I put Mr. Queen’s stuff?”

“In the guest bedroom.”

He quirked an eyebrow but didn’t comment further. Oliver’s bodyguard was a huge black man who had fought in Afghanistan before dedicating his life to protecting her husband. There was a story behind Dig’s decision to abandon the military in favor of following Oliver Queen around but Felicity was not privy to it.

“So, did you take him back or what?” he asked in that no-nonsense way of his when he returned.

“Or what.”

“Hmm,” Dig murmured.

“What? If you have something to say, just say it. Everyone else has an opinion on my relationship. After all, you might be the only person in this city who understands Oliver Queen.”

Dig folded his arms. “No one understands that boy,” he scoffed.

Felicity giggled. Hearing someone call her very mature and intimidating husband a boy would never stop being funny.

“Seriously though, if you decide to give him a chance you should do it with your whole heart.” He pointed towards the guest bedroom. “Sleeping away from each other is not going to bring you any closer.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, Dig. Our marriage is a façade. I wanted this to work so much. And I am the only one that tried. I tried until I lost sight of who I am. Maybe it’s time I focused on myself for a change.”

“Focusing on yourself is great but it’s not the way to save a marriage.”

“Then what is the way? Tell me because I have no idea. My parents got divorced when I was 7 years old. I don’t exactly have the best example of a healthy relationship in my life.”

He seemed to think about it for a while. “Well, from my experience the best way is to talk to each other. Communication. That’s the big idea.”

“Does that actually work?”

Dig gave her a soft smile. “It worked for me. I married the same woman twice after all.”

“Really?” Felicity asked, open-mouthed. She couldn’t even think of a universe where John Diggle and Lyla Michaels were not a couple. To hear that they had ever been divorced was a shock.

Dig checked his beeping cellphone and muttered an apology. “Oh no, John! You don’t get to share a juicy tidbit like that and then leave.”

The big man just chuckled. “Maybe some other time, Mrs. Queen. Alright?”

“Fine,” she pouted. Felicity hated mysteries with a passion.

“Just think about what I said. And remember, no matter who you think Oliver Queen is, he isn't a guy that gives up.”

"Maybe, giving up is the only option. Maybe, there's nothing left for him here."

[imaginesfrommetoyou]

I Only See You (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Based on a request.

He was twenty-three when he first laid eyes on you. His parents knew yours through events that had happened before any of them had children. It was usually just the adults that got together, seeing as how the kids were either at school or working as they got older, but the circumstances were different that year.

Newt had decided to visit home for a bit before deciding to return to his travels. It seemed that you had the same idea, leading to your parents dragging you along to the Scamander household for dinner and drinks.

He was taken aback by your delicate touch as you shook his hand, your eyes gleaming as they met his. Your voice was soft and reminded him of the breeze on a beautiful day in the summer.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you grinned as you let go of his hand. His heart nearly stopped and he struggled to find his words.

“N-Newt Scamander,” he sputtered out, a light pink blush dusting over his cheeks. He led you into the dining room, pulling out a chair for you before claiming the seat across from you.

Your families piled into the room before slipping into their seats. Their eyes flickered between you and Newt, flashing with an almost mischievous look. Your parents had been talking to you quite frequently leading up to the dinner about finding a man to marry; they also said that if you didn’t find one soon, they would find one for you. You sneered at the idea of an arranged marriage, preferring your independence to do as you pleased.

“So, Y/N,” Newt’s mother began as everyone began eating. “Your mother told me that you work for the Ministry?”

“Oh, yes,” you replied happily. Your work was something that you loved and enjoyed talking about greatly. “I’m an auror, a fairly new one but I’m loving the job already.”

“We tried to get her to do something a little more… safe,” your mother commented lowly. You tensed your hand that held onto your fork and glared at the tablecloth. Your mother disapproved of you going out and making a name for yourself.

“If you had your way, Mother, I would be a married woman with no job at all,” you snapped before taking a bite of a roll.

“That is also something that I believe we all wanted to talk about,” Newt’s father began. He sat back in his chair and glanced at Newt. “As parents, it is our responsibility to make sure that our children marry a partner that they are compatible with. Someone who can provide them with a profitable and solid future.”

You felt your blood begin to boil and you set your fork down. Your eyes darted over to where Newt’s older brother, Theseus, was sitting, his jaw dropped as he connected the dots. You had met him at the Ministry and had grown fairly close with him. Too close to be considered just friends, but no one else knew of it. He looked over at you before immediately turning to his younger brother.

“We believe that you and Newt would have a very successful future together,” Newt’s mother finished. Newt felt his eyes widen and his body become numb. He didn’t even know you!

“These types of marriages are more common than you think, and nearly all of the couples remain together-”

You jumped out of your chair and went running for the front door. There was no way that you would ever follow through with an arranged marriage.

But sure enough, you had no choice. Threatened by the possibility of being disowned by your family, you decided to marry Newt. Your mother was ecstatic that she was helping to plan your wedding, perfecting every detail so that it fit your wishes. If you couldn’t pick who you married, then you were going to make everything else the way you wanted it to be.

Newt tried to help, he really did. He brought you little trinkets and letters about how sorry he was for the whole situation. You knew that the situation wasn’t his felt, but you could do nothing but despise him. His heart ached at the thought of a loveless marriage, even as he felt himself begin to fall for you.

He took you for a walk on the property his family owned, leading you to small pond that rested beside a large weeping willow tree. You listened as he told you about how he and Theseus used to go for swims in the summer and have picnics. He would often sit in the tree and read about magical creatures. He noticed the way that your Y/E/C eyes were trained so intently on his. He noticed the way that your hand brushed his as you set it on the ground between the two of you. The way that you attempted to stifle a giggle as he told you funny stories from his childhood. And then you spoke up.

“Can we go for a swim?” You asked hesitantly. He nodded quickly, smiling as you stood up and held a hand out for him to grab onto.

“What about your clothes?” He questioned as you pulled him to the water.

“I guess I’ll just have to take them off.”

You dropped your hand from his and tugged off your shoes before pulling your blue dress. Newt squeezed his eyes shut before he felt your hands rest on his cheeks.

“What are you doing?” He whispered with a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Open your eyes, Newt,” you ordered in a quiet voice. He did as you said and looked into your eyes. “We’re getting married, you better get used to seeing me almost naked.”

And with that, you ran into the water. That afternoon was one of the best of his whole life. He had never felt the way he did with you around Leta or any other girl. He could tell that you weren’t letting him in yet, but that your strong defenses were slowly coming undone.

He kissed you that day. He pulled you into his arms once the two of you had gotten out of the water and sat beneath the large tree. He admired your beauty and the way that you spoke in such an intelligent manner. He admired the way that you smiled at his jokes and poked fun at him. He couldn’t resist your lips when you turned to him and rested a hand on his chest. A sudden wave of confidence washed over him and then his lips were on yours. He would have given anything to kiss you for the rest of eternity.

It wasn’t until after the wedding that Newt realized just why you didn’t want to get married. The wedding happened without anything going wrong. There was a point where he thought for sure that you were going to book it out of the church, but you remained strong by his side.

It was the following week when the real dilemma occurred. Newt sat in the living room of your small flat, a book in front of him and a cup of steaming tea on the coffee table. He heard your strained voice becoming louder from where you had locked yourself in the bedroom. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Newt headed quietly back to the room so that he could listen.

“I’m not quitting, Mother!” He heard you hiss into the phone. “Newt doesn’t care, we already talked about it! This is none of your business, my job is important to me and I am not letting you… you did what? Mother! Why would you do that to me?”

The phone slammed down, and Newt jumped at the sound of you throwing something across the room. Before he could even think about knocking, he heard you pick up the phone again.

“Theseus Scamander, please,” you requested, irritation clear in your voice. “It’s me. You can’t do this, Theseus, it’s not right. You’re taking away the one thing that is keeping me sane! I don’t want to work with him! I don’t care if he’s your brother and my husband, I can barely look at him without feeling this hatred for everything!”

Newt’s breath caught in his throat and he felt a sadness course through his body. You were silent for a few moments before continuing.

“Okay. I’ll send progress reports, but don’t expect me to be thanking you for anything.”

The phone was set down in a more gentle manner this time, and Newt found the will to raise his fist to the door.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He called out worriedly.

“I’m fine!”

And that was what you told him as the months passed. It turned out that your mother had told the Ministry of your marriage with Newt and requested that you be taken off duty as an auror. After talking to Theseus, you had it arranged so that you would be working with Newt on his book, helping to save creatures from illegal breeding grounds and trade centers. Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing, but Newt was more than happy to get to spend more time with you.

He found that his heart soared whenever you would even enter a room. His gaze never left your body and he never wanted you to stop talking to him. He lived for your questions about his work and your comments about how remarkable you found his case to be. Newt was completely infatuated with you. The last thing he wanted was for you to know, but then he slipped.

“Newt?” You spoke up from your spot in his small hut in the case. He turned around to face you with a questioning look. “I know that this is a weird question, and you have every right to say no, but would you like to get drunk with me?”

“W-What?” He stammered out, green eyes wide.

“I knew it was weird to ask!” You groaned in embarrassment as you shut your eyes. “It’s just been a long few months and I could really go for a night of drinking.”

Newt understood where you came from. It had been a very long few months that had been full of awkward silences and sleepless nights. Newt had to restrain himself from telling you just how in love with you he was, and you has to restrain from cursing him out for marrying you.

“I would really enjoy that.”

So there the two of you were, downing shots and drinking large glasses of firewhiskey. He was surprised by you ability to tolerate so much alcohol, seeing as he was quite the lightweight.

“I wish that things had gone differently,” you admitted after taking a large swig of firewhiskey. “That we weren’t stuck in this marriage. We could have found real love if it wasn’t for our parents.”

“I found real love, Y/N,” he told you. His face was red from the alcohol coursing through his veins and his words were slurred slightly.

“I thought I had, too.”

“I love you.”

Your words hadn’t even been heard by the tipsy man in front of you, but you had most certainly heard his. Yes, there had been quite a few times where you felt something very deeply for Newt, but you brushed it off. He wasn’t the Scamander son you had wanted to be with, but it seemed that he was the one you married. You couldn’t deny the affection you felt towards him, especially as he sat across from you with a look full of so much adoration.

“I’m pretty sure that this is the part where you say something, Y/N.”

“I… I was seeing Theseus before I met you,” you whispered, deciding to tell him everything. “I told my mother to try and get her to call off the wedding, but when I said that we had no plans of marrying soon, she refused. I hated you for a while, Newt. I loved him and he loved me, but neither of us wanted to commit to anything long term. I know that I would have married him if none of this had happened.”

“I understand,” Newt mumbled, leaning back in his chair as he seemed to sober up. His usually bright green eyes were dark, and you could tell that he was hurting.

“I don’t think you do,” you replied. “I loved him then, but I think… I think I do care about you.”

“But you don’t love me,” he concluded with a grimace.

“I don’t know what I feel. It’s different than what I felt for him. What I feel for you is so much more raw and different… it’s like I’ve known you since I was a child.”

“Do you see yourself ever loving me?”

“Yes. Surprisingly, I know that I could love you very easily. You are an easy person to love, Newt.”

It took you a few more months to feel comfortable with the way you felt towards him. The love was so natural and pure, and you couldn’t help but be thankful that he was the one you ended up with.

Newt invested himself in caring for those around him. He did everything in his power to make you happy in what seemed like an impossible situation, and you loved him for that.

“I love you,” you whispered one night as you sat beside him on the floor of his hut. He looked at you with a smile of pure bliss and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

What a thing it was to love a man that you believed you would always despise.

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11   @alleksa16   @penguininapinktuxedo   @blackcoffee85   @stopforamoment     @hopelessromantic1352     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

Masterlist

Part 26

Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

"Welcome, your grace." Thurston bowed while kissing Olivia's hand. "It has been some time since we have been fortunate enough to host the Duchess of Lythikos."

"Yes, it has." She focused her attention to the two young ladies beside him and smiled. "And how are the ladies of Cormery Isle?"

"We are--" Blair began.

"Awful." Arabella interrupted. "That's why I asked for you to come."

                                                                                                                        "What's this?" Thurston asked.

"Bella, I don't want you worrying about--" Blair's voice cracked causing her to take a stuttering breath to regain her calm.

"You're my sister!" Arabella snapped. "I'm not about to let that witch take away your chance at happiness." She returned her sharp-eyed gaze to Olivia, the very duchess who had stepped up to be a mentor when her mother died. "Remember the promise you made me?"

 "I do." Olivia replied. "That's why I'm here instead of Ramsford."

Thurston, still perplexed, waved toward his study. "Perhaps we should take this discussion somewhere a bit more private."

With a regal nod, the scarlet duchess led the way inside.

"See that we are not disturbed." The earl whispered to his butler. "Especially by my son."

With an ominous click, the door shut in the bewildered servant's face.

***************

St Orella, Cordonia...

 The ballroom was filled with extras, dressed in Regency Era clothing, dancing the Cordonian Waltz.

Amanda sat beside Thomas with a set of headphones on. Her eyes were glued to the screen in front of them as they watched and listened to Chris (as Reginald) and Jessica (as Elizabeth) speak their lines all while keeping up with the dance steps. Ryan (as Arthur) was waiting on his cue to make a dramatic entrance.

"I was unaware he was returning." Elizabeth insisted. "I haven't spoken to Lord Arthur since he was sent away."

Reginald clinched his jaw. Wanting to believe the woman he was set to marry and was now losing his heart to warred with his suspicion over the man his intended had once been involved with.

Elizabeth blinked back tears. She couldn't stand to see the man whose kindness and gentle humor she had grown accustomed to being replaced with such self-doubt. Knowing it was frowned upon for a lady to initiate such,  yet needing to show him that he was the one winning her heart, she captured his lips in an achingly tender kiss.

Reginald tightened his arms around her as he sank into her embrace. His lips curved against hers when he heard her slight gasp when he kissed her again.

A throat cleared beside them.

Arthur's face was unreadable as he spoke with little inflection. "Time to switch partners."

He took Elizabeth in his arms and waltzed off with her.

"Arthur!" Elizabeth shrieked when he swung her outside to the courtyard. "What do you think you are doing?!"

"I thought I was doing what any man would do after being reunited with the woman who claimed to love him." He cornered her against the balustrade. "I didn't expect you to find another so soon."

Elizabeth glared at him. "The Queen arranged my betrothal to Sir Reginald."

"Ah," his eyes narrowed. "And you took it upon yourself to make him feel so loved."

"You left me!" She cried out. "Without a word or a promise! I had to obey her. She is my guardian and I--"

Arthur grasped her arms and shook her. "I left you my heart! How quickly you dismissed it is yet to be discovered." His hooded eyes dropped to her mouth. "Perhaps you need a reminder of what was once between us."

"No--" she pushed against his chest when he slammed his mouth on hers.

"Unhand her!" Reginald ripped Arthur away.

Elizabeth fell back against the balustrade, anxiously looking from one man to the other.

"She is not yours." Arthur informed him. "She never will be as long as there is breath in my body."                                                                                                                                                                Reginald's voice had a deadly edge that Elizabeth had never heard before. "She is the woman I am going to marry. Blessed and given to me by the Queen." Reginald’s gaze softened for a moment when he turned toward Elizabeth. "You sir, have no rights to my intended." He continued.

"I claim the rights of her heart." Arthur countered. "Before I was sent away, she let it be known that I was what she wanted." His typical, confident smirk formed. "Looks like you are too late to win such."

Elizabeth's heart ached when Reginald seemed to falter at Arthur's arguments.

Their eyes met and she saw all the uncertainty he suffered with.

He had done everything he knew to do to win her love. She knew that he did not have to make such an effort when she was already promised to marry him. Knowing he did so because he cared for her and their future made her long to be with him.

She then focused on the man she had first loved. Arthur had opened her eyes to how deep that emotion could be. It was an almost desperate love, one filled with passion and need. How could she even contemplate another's attentions when he had laid his heart at her feet?

Her eyes continued to flicker back and forth between the two. With a cry of frustration, she gathered her skirts and ran blindly through the ballroom.

Her closest confidante, Lady Marija, followed her. She stopped the fleeing duchess at the foot of the stairs.

"Liza! Wait!" She gently grasped her friend's hands. "You're trembling. What happened?"

"Oh Marija." She swiped at the tears falling, "What am I to do?" She buried her face against her friend's shoulder. "Arthur has returned and Reginald thinks I do not love him and..."

Marija listened while looking back behind her for the men they were discussing. Her own face revealed how much this hurt her for her dearest friend and the two gentlemen…especially Lord Arthur. "Who do you love?"

Elizabeth straightened her posture and shook her head. "I love them both. Somehow, they each made me fall in love with them." Her blue eyes shimmered with her tears in the candlelight. "What am I to do?"

Marija stepped back. For once in her life, she was determined to see what future was about to be laid before them. "Liza, who can you see yourself married to? Having children with?"

Elizabeth turned her gaze to the two men standing in the ballroom. Her heart raced with the thought of having a home with only one.

“Reginald. He is the only man I can see having a life with.” Elizabeth’s tearful smile appeared. “Oh Marija, I love him with my entire heart.”

 "Cut!" Thomas yelled out.

Amanda removed the headphones and quickly wiped the tears that had come to her own eyes. This part of her ancestor's story had always hurt her.

Perhaps it was because she had known what it was like to love one and fall in love with another. The doubt about one's own heart if it fell too quickly and so easily for another. Worrying you might hurt the one you now claimed to love.

"What do you think?" Thomas asked, as Addison hurried to repair a tear in one of the extra's dresses.

"It's incredible." Amanda replied. "Seeing it brought to life is just..." She searched for a tissue to wipe the stray tears. "I can't imagine it done any other way."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, pleased she approved of how he handled this scene and yelled out to set up for the next one.

"Where are you going?" He asked when she eased out of her chair.

A slight blush formed on her cheeks. "I know it sounds silly, but I'm going to the portrait gallery." Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I need a reminder that she ended up with her happily ever after with Reginald."

Before he had a chance to say anything more, she turned on her heel and left the ballroom.

***************

Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

 "You want Tariq for a husband?" Thurston asked.

"I love him, Father." Blair admitted. "I always have. Knowing how highly you and mother thought of him made my feelings even more right."

"And that's why we have to get rid of Lauren." Arabella explained. "After closely spying on her these past couple of weeks, I have discovered that she is secretly pursuing Neville. Though, thankfully our brother no longer pays her any attention."

"What?!" Blair screeched. "She is using the man I love and my brother?!"

Thurston's expression hardened to one of cold hatred. "That interloper has no idea the enemy she has just made."

"You're not the only one." Olivia remarked. "Lauren Benefield tried to end Amanda Bridgerton's marriage to Thomas Hunt. She has incurred not only my wrath for going after my friend but those of Prince Liam and House Beaumont."

"So, you will help us?" Arabella asked, hope tinging her voice. "I knew you would!"

"I would have regardless because of my promise to you as your mentor." Olivia corrected. "I'm merely letting you know how those of us who know Lauren truly feel." Her green eyes leveled on Lord Thurston. "And I believe you, sir, especially hold ill will toward her after going after Amanda."

"Indeed." His deep voice rumbled with his mounting anger. "Our family owes a debt to hers."

"Lady Amanda saved me from embarrassing myself during my first ball at the palace." Blair added.

"She did?" Thurston leaned forward. "You never told me that."

Blair's cheeks heated when all eyes turned to her. "When I was leaving the powder room, I was too excited to return to the ballroom and did not check my dress. Lady Amanda was coming in as I was exiting and smiled at me. She then grabbed my arm and pulled me back inside. The back of my dress had gotten caught in my pantyhose."

"Your bottom was showing?!" Thurston softly cursed then apologized to the ladies. "You would have been the laughingstock of the entire court had she not saved you."

Blair nodded. "If I had known that this woman Neville and Tariq had brought home was treating Amanda so horribly, I would have likely poisoned her tea."

"Tempting." Olivia remarked. "We have all been tempted to do that." She stood and paced before them. “What I am about to say cannot leave this room.”

When each nodded, she continued. “I will be leaving tomorrow evening for Monterisso to speak with Queen Amalas.”

“The spy queen!” Thurston sputtered. “Whatever for?”

“There have been some discoveries of Ms. Benefield’s activities along with those of Viktor Montmarte. With what I already uncovered and anticipate in finding, I suggest you do all you can to distance yourselves from this actress.”

“Activities?” Blair repeated. “What has she—”

“No.” Thurston gently cut off his daughter. “If Lady Olivia insists that the less we know the better off we will be, then I will not question her.”

“A wise decision.” Olivia added. “What you need to focus on is finding a way for Tariq to break off the engagement. I would also suggest keeping Neville from her in case she tries to trap him in some sort of scandal.” Her eyes narrowed. “Things will only get worse once the wheels of vengeance are in motion.”

"I've been thinking of a way to do that, especially since Tariq has been spending more time with Blair." Arabella added. "I think he is seeing how horrible Lauren is when compared to how sweet Blair is to him."

Her sister blushed even more.

Thurston actually smiled seeing his daughter look as her late mother did when he courted her. "If Tariq is who your heart is set on, then he is the man you shall have."

"Father! Thank you!" Blair rushed over to hug him and kiss his cheek. "Nothing would make me happier than marrying him."

He gently patted her cheek. "I would be proud to call him my son." He stood up and was once again stern, roiling with anger. "I agree with her grace." He paced before them. "The only way your brother and Tariq will get over this actress is by showing them what she truly is."

"Blair’s birthday is in a few days.” Arabella pointed out. “We usually start the day with an early morning horseback ride.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “I had planned on somehow getting Lauren to lose that sweet act she tries to maintain in front of everyone.”

"Very good." Olivia smiled at her. "Nothing to make a person more vulnerable than out in the wilderness."

The young lady beamed with pride over her mentor's words and her father's proud smile.

"It can also be a way to show Tariq what a proper lady Blair is." He added.

"Once Lauren’s engagement is broken, Liam has a plan in place to remove her from our country." Olivia informed them. "Ms. Benefield will no longer find sanctuary in Cordonia.” A smile filled with hints of evil formed. “I wonder where she will try to go. Her home in Hollywood won’t be safe either once my plan is enacted. She has ruined or tried to ruin the lives of many people within the motion picture industry and those who have inherited wealth. No one will be willing to help her."

                                                                                                                              "To go after the Duchess and her Duke of St Orella, and two of Cordonia's Lords should be enough to ruin her in the eyes of the world." Thurston grumbled. "She should never have attacked Cordonia's finest."

"I agree." Olivia rose from her chair. "With your permission, I would like to stay here until my flight tomorrow." Her smile held a great deal of evil intent. "Nothing could bring me greater joy than seeing the one who dared to cross my friend begin her downfall."

Arabella entwined her arm with Olivia's. "You are more than welcome to, and I hope you also participate in it. Vengeance is a dish best shared."

**************

Later that evening, Cormery Isle...

"Neville!" Lauren chased after him as he began his descent downstairs.

He braced himself and turned toward her. "Yes?"

She forced a flirtatious smile on her face. "We haven't had a chance to speak privately." She pouted in a way she knew most men couldn't resist and trailed a finger down the buttons of his shirt. "I think we have a few things that need to be thoroughly discussed." She leaned in close to let her lips brush his ear. "Explore how things should be between us."

                                                                                                                            He jerked away from her. "I think we have said all that needs to be said."

Her eyes narrowed when he turned his back on her and continued downstairs.

"What about your proposal?" She called out. "I bet my fiancé would be interested in hearing that his so-called best friend insisted I call off my engagement and marry him instead."

Neville froze on the stairs. The glare he sent over his shoulder normally caused commoners to tremble, yet she met it with a defiant smile.

"The proposal is no longer on the table." He informed her. Deciding to punish her for her empty threat, his lips curved at his next sentence. "You didn't call it off when I asked you to, therefore I have moved on to more attractive prospects."

Her eyes widened. "What?! But you said--"

He turned his back once more on her, calmly continuing down to dinner.

As he turned the corner, he heard her frustrated screech.

"What on earth--oh it's you." Arabella appeared on the stairs. "I could have sworn I heard a cat being tortured somewhere."

Enraged already with the Vancoeur's, Lauren tried to slap the teenager.

Instead she ended up raising a hand to her own stinging cheek.

Arabella stepped closer to her; eyes narrowed. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

"You slapped me!" Lauren gasped.

"You were about to slap me." She reminded her. "Now you know how foolish it is to try."

"You little bitch, I’ll beat--"

 "Is there a problem?"

Both looked up at Olivia.

"Is there?" Arabella asked Lauren.

Knowing she was no match for the two of them, she shook her head. "No."

"I didn't think so." Olivia chided. She smiled warmly at Arabella. "I see you kept up with the lessons I taught you."

"Of course, I did." She replied smugly.

The two noble ladies laughed and walked off, leaving the stunned actress fuming in their wake.

Lauren gripped the banister, her mind whirling with plans of revenge for the noble family.

“Ms. Benefield? Is anything wrong?” Blair asked, pausing beside her.

“You.” Lauren hissed. “Do you think I don’t see what you and your sister are doing.”

Blair remained calm. “Doing?”

The actress moved quickly, twisting a hand in Blair’s hair, giving it a vicious jerk.

Blair’s stubbornness refused to allow her to cry out. Her eyes narrowed with unshed tears as she spoke in a commanding tone that every noble possessed. “Let me go. NOW.”

“Don’t think I am going to allow these childish games of yours to ruin my engagement to Tariq.” She tightened her hold on the younger woman. “I see how you look at him. Your little crush will end. He’s mine. He and this life you all live will be mine.” She smiled at her. “If you try anything, you and your sister will face my vengeance.” She pressed a kiss to her cheek. “And you cannot begin to imagine what I will do to you.”

She let her go and continued to the dining room.

Blair waited until she was no longer able to see her then slowly dropped down, trembling, to sit on the stairs. She wiped her eyes and tried to compose herself.

She was more determined than ever to see this woman destroyed.

“Blair?”

She looked up with a start. “Tariq!” She struggled to her feet. “Did you—”

“I heard everything.” He whispered. “Thank you for warning me.” He swallowed and gently smoothed her hair back. “Seeing her attack each of you, I had to fight myself to keep from trying to intervene.”

She smiled warmly at him. “You’ve always looked out for us.”

His eyes drifted over her face. “Blair, when Lauren said you have a—I mean, do you—”

She nodded. “I do. I always have.” She gripped his hand. “I always will. That’s why I had to tell you what type of woman Lauren is. I know Arabella and Olivia wanted a more dramatic reveal, but I know you. You are not the type of man who would want to cause a scandal when circumstances could be resolved quickly and quietly.”

“You know me better than anyone.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

She took his arm. “Shall we go to dinner, my lord?”

“Yes.” His tone hardened with what was before him. “Let’s get this evening over with.”

**************

St Orella, Cordonia...

 After wrapping up the day's shooting, Thomas searched the downstairs rooms his wife normally could be found in.

"Hudson?" He called out to the butler.

"Yes, your grace?" Hudson paused within the doorway.

"Have you seen my wife?"

"Forgive me, your grace. Lady Amanda said she was retiring early this evening."

"She wasn't ill, was she?" Thomas asked.

"Not that I am aware of, sir."

"Thank you." Thomas locked his notes in the desk drawer of the study and hurried upstairs.

He paused outside their bedroom, unsure if something had upset Amanda earlier.

She had never returned to see the next scene filmed.

He carefully opened the door and stuck his head in.

Amanda looked up from the book she was reading and smiled. "There you are. How did it go?"

His shoulders relaxed as he came in and shut the door. With a few quick strides he eased onto the bed to kiss her.

"It either went very well and you’re here to celebrate or horribly wrong and you now need encouragement." She teased when he pulled her on top of him.

"It went well." He gently caressed her cheek. "What happened earlier? You never came back."

"Nothing, I just had the desire to reread Elizabeth's diary. I wanted to make certain I had gotten her talk with Marija right." Amanda explained. "It always hurt me for her, Reginald, and Arthur to be in such torment during that dance."

His lips eased into a smile. "Everything worked out though. Elizabeth ended up with her true love. Even Arthur was able to find happiness with Marija."

"I know." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Seeing it unfold though, knowing the anguish she felt in that moment by her own words, it just..."

She sighed. "I'm being foolish."

"You aren't." He pulled her down for a kiss. "The scene with her breaking up the duel and choosing Reginald will be one that I know will strike an emotional chord for me."

"Why that one?" Amanda slid off him and laid on her side.

Thomas turned toward her. "Because I know without that moment, you wouldn't be here."

"Thomas." Amanda captured his lips in a deep kiss. "That might be one of the sweetest things you've ever said."

 He slipped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. "Each time I read over that scene; I can't help but think of what my life would be like if you didn't exist."

Her lips curved. "You would have the life you had before we met." She gently ran the back of her fingers along his jaw. "You weren't unhappy."

"That is because I didn't know how happy I could be." He softly kissed her palm. "I was unaware how falling in love with the right person could alter one's life and outlook." He tightened his arms around her. "Now that I do, I intend on never letting you go."

"I knew what could happen if I fell in love with a man who returned my feelings." She whispered. "I just didn't realize how it would feel." She met his lips in a tender embrace. "I didn't know I could love one man with everything within me and find absolute joy in doing so."

"Amanda, if our grandchild, seven generations from now, reads your journal," his eyes met hers, "what type of story would they find?"

She slowly smiled and pressed her forehead to his. "A passionate love story filled with moments of unbridled happiness."

[kanarikadelak1996]

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[shafferangelina95]

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[siconetribal]

One Step Closer

Rating: NC-17 (due to subject matter)

Pairing: Yoosung Kim/Kira (I named the MC for ease of writing, you can change the name in your head since it is just MC)

Warning: Past Trauma, Implication of Past Forced Relations, Insecurities, Past Verbal Abuse

It had all started like any other day, Yoosung was heading off to the clinic and she was going to work from home. She gave him one last hug before letting him leave, smiling and waving brightly until the door was shut. The smile crumbled and her hand fell heavy to her side. She knew she should probably talk to him, open up to him but she just was not able to even think about it today. It had been on her mind for some time now, though they had been married maybe a little over a month. How she had managed to land an adoring and sweet partner like Yoosung Kim was an enigma to her.

Especially with how my first marriage, this is a miracle. She frowned at the thought. It was an arranged marriage, one her father insisted on and pushed for. She argued with him to hold off and give more time, but the verbal battles always went the same: aggressive and insulting. The sharp words flew everywhere, at her and her mother. To keep the peace, she only hoped she was doing the right thing by saying yes. Sadly, that was not the case at all. A year passed and she realized he was not all that interested in getting to know her. He only wanted to have sex, believing that sex was only allowed after marriage. She also had been saving herself until marriage, but she never thought it would have been forced on her so suddenly and in such a twisted way.

She numbly walked to the curtains and pulled them shut to black out the sun that just seemed all to bright right now as she recalled the verbal matches she had with her ex-husband. He had promised they would take time to get to know each other but then he went around spreading lies about her to his mother and her father. He cooked up all sorts of things to feed her father who was enraged by her lack of being a proper wife.

A proper wife, what is that even? She chewed at her lower lip as she started to tidy up the place. She always questioned if she was doing right by Yoosung. She cooked when she could, though he did when he was free and sometimes they cooked together. He took her out on dates and she made sure the house was always clean for him which he always failed to notice but when she knew where something was he would praise her endlessly for being the best person to ever be born on this planet. An angel just for him.

She could not help but wonder, if she was an angel why was she put through such a relationship? She had never even dated a guy before her ex-husband and suddenly she was thrown into a marriage. She knew it would be tough, she knew communication was pivotal, she was working at it alone. Picking at the hem of her shirt, she rolled a little ball of fuzz that came off between her fingers as she recalled all the criticism she was given by her ex-mother-in-law, her own mother who had no idea what was truly going on, and her husband who lied to her face only to turn around and tell her he had said those things and how justified he was until she finally just gave in and had sex with him.

He promised how everything would be better, and yet nothing changed. He demanded more and was angry when she would have her period, as if she had control over that. He was utterly terrible as well. Not that she was anyone with experience, but the had not even kissed and she never felt comfortable with doing anything except letting him put it in her. The thought of it made her stomach coil with disgust and she quickly shook her head and took a few deep breaths.

“I’m sure there’s a movie I can stream...yeah, just do that.” She tried to convince herself and forced the memories to the back of her mind. The room was dark except for the flickering lights of the television. Huddled up on the sofa with a blanket thrown around and empty bags of snack food piled on the floor was Kira. She was looking at the screen, but it was clear she was elsewhere. Gripping the blanket tighter, she leaned over until she was toppled onto the sofa before curling up further into her warmth. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a few practiced breaths to force the acrid nausea that threatened to take over her. It was nothing new, she was used to this by now.

It’s not like this is the first time I remembered...so why am I like this now? She grit her teeth as his face came to mind. The one person she never wanted to think of when it came to this. Someone she hoped would forever be untainted by her. A cold scoff left her lips. I was always dirty...I just didn’t want to admit it because ignorance is bliss right? He doesn’t know how defiled I am...no one does. She clenched her jaw as she swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up in the back of her throat. Forcing herself off the sofa, she headed to her bathroom. The icky feeling was too much and she needed to clean herself of the grime only she could see.

In no time she was standing in a freezing cold shower, her body shaking from the drops that felt like pelting ice but she was not sure she really felt it at all. She stared at her hands, frowning a little. She was separated from him for one year before she was finally able to gather a divorce. It was like her life had finally taken a turn for the better as she met a group of unique individuals who were so welcoming and warm, the members of the RFA. Among them was her now current husband, which she knew she would forever be grateful for. Of course there were troubles with the unknown hacker but they found their peace finally...that is until her body started to fail on her. Apparently all the stress she had been holding in finally took a toll on her, that was what the doctors had told her to explain the random seizures she woke up with one morning.

It was minor at first, but the frequency increased to the point that she was no longer able to hide it. Jumin had been a great help in finding a good doctor who gave her medicine that has been helping. She just wished they would go away just as quickly as they had come and she could finally start building confidence to take a step further in their relationship. She did not get why he wanted to marry a mess like her and even stay with her after all this. She felt so guilty that she was not able to be with him like a couple should be because of her own insecurities.

“Maybe they were right, maybe I’m just useless.” She mumbled to herself, balling her hands into fists. “I’m such waste.” Squeezing her eyes tight, she took in a few shaky breaths as she imagined the water was purifying her in some way. She was not sure how long she was just in there in a daze, her eyes were not exactly focused on anything when she heard pounding at the bathroom door. She noticed she was sitting in a tub full of water now, the water must have shifted to scalding hot but it was no longer at that temperature. “I few more minutes,” she mumbled, letting her eyes fall close again. Hey, don’t keep shouting my name like that...you’ll make people worry...I’m fine. She thought to the person shouting her name as the door knob rattled until it stopped.

She thought she was just hearing things when the door was suddenly kicked in with a large bang, the force ripping out the top hinge as it clattered and slammed against the wall. She had slipped away just before Yoosung had stepped in. He had ran here to see her, since she was not responding to anyone’s texts. He had a bit of a gap between patients so he hopped into his car and drove back. He was greeted by a dark room with the television on and her phone was lost in the puddle of a blanket. He had laughed off the scene as a cute lazy moment but when he heard a lack of response from him calling her name he began to worry. He looked around, thinking she may be in her room only to hear the exhaust on.

“Kiki?” He knocked on the door. There was no answer. She probably didn’t hear over the exhaust. “Hey, Kiwi! It’s Yoosung, you ok?” He knocked a little louder and raised his voice. “Sweetie?” He rose his voice again and knocked, rattling the knob. There was only silence. He waited a minute, rationalizing that she probably was going to step out any moment now so he paced the room. Still, all he heard was the sound of the exhaust so he tried again, this time slapping his hand on the door with the heel of his palm as he fiddled with the knob. The more silence he got, the more panic had set in. What if she had fallen and hurt herself? What if she had a huge seizure of some kind and was unable to call for help? As the train of thought began, it quickly hurdled into the depths of his worries as he suddenly wondered if she had been unconscious in the bathroom for hours and none of them had known. As his panic rose, so did his efforts. Unable to get a response, he kicked the door in with all his might and quickly rushed in to the overly steamed bathroom only to feel his body run cold with his blood. His wife was lying in the tub with an empty prescription bottle on the floor.

“Kira?!” He shouted her name repeatedly as he quickly fished her out of the tub, not caring about his clothes as he quickly brought her to the bed. “Shit, what do I do? Did she overdose?! No, stop that! You know she wouldn’t...ok, you better not have Kira! I swear I won’t forgive you if you did!” He snapped, trying to shake her awake. “C’mon Kiwi...please.” He pleaded, lightly smacking her cheek to see if he was able to get some reaction from her. Never had he felt so terrible for not becoming a regular doctor instead of a Veterinarian as he did now in this moment. “Shit, c’mon sweetie...let this be some overdone joke of yours! Just tell me Seven put you up to this, anything...just, please!” His voice cracked as he held her tight. “Open your eyes Kira, c’mon. I’m sorry I didn’t notice...I’m such an idiot! I swore I’d be there...dammit, I’m such a failure. Please Kira...don’t leave me.” He tried to coax her, about to lose hope when he noticed her start twitch and flinch. As relief washed over him he suddenly felt boneless as he fell to his knees beside the bed and hung his head as she came to.

“When did I get out here?” She mumbled, slowly sitting up but was suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness and almost fell back down as her elbow buckled under her weight. “Damn...I must’ve sat in the heat for too long.” Her voice came out in a rasp, throat dry when she finally noticed someone was beside her. Not just anyone, a very wet and crying Yoosung? Wait, why is he crying? “Yo-Yoosung?! What are you, h-hey why are you crying?!” She fumbled to sit up when his hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a crushing hug.

“Never scare me like that again! I’m so glad you’re safe...thank gawd your safe!” He whispered in to her hair. “Why...why would you do that? If you were having a rough time why didn’t you tell me?!” He scolded her. He knew he should call for medics but right now he was not sure if he ever wanted to let her go. He was afraid she would disappear if he let go.

“Wait, what? Yoosung, what are you...I fell asleep in the tub...that can happen you know.” She frowned, rubbing his back to try and soothe him as she felt him shake in her arms. “I must’ve gotten overheated and didn’t realize.

“What…?” He suddenly pulled her away and stared her right in the eyes. “Don’t lie, I saw the pill bottle. It’s completely empty.”

“Pill bottle…empty...? Oh! No, that’s not-I took the last pill in that not all of them. I have a refill in the cabinet waiting to be cracked open. Yoosung, honey, did you think I overdosed?” She raised a brow at this.

“Can you blame me? I’ve been here for like an hour and no response from you. I had to kick the door in just to get to you and then there was the bottle!” Kira looked over at the bathroom to see the busted door and gaped at the fact.

“I’m really sorry! I had no idea, I just was a lot more tired than I thought!” She fumbled for the right apology but he pressed a finger to her lips as he pulled her into another bone crushing hug. “I guess the drowsiness the medicine sometimes causes plus the heat just knocked me out.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m just glad you’re safe.” He mumbled, holding her tight when she suddenly started to fidget. He looked down to see her cheeks are pretty red and frowned at this. “Are you still feeling a bit overheated?”

“Uh...no, just....uhm...I know you came in to save me and all...but uhm, can I have a towel or something?” She whispered, trying her best to over the essentials of her body. It took a moment for the reality to register, Yoosung’s face burning up almost identical to hers as he quickly grabbed her robe and handed it to her. He forced himself not to stare by turning his back to her and tried to wish away any and all primal reaction that replayed the feel of her soft nude body pressed so tight against his. He muttered an apology, clearing his throat.

“It’s fine, really. You had good intentions...it’s fine.” She laughed off. “I’m all wrapped up now so we’re good. You can turn around again.” She cleared her throat, tightening the belt and holding it closed over her chest. He carefully turned back towards her, kneeling down once more as he grabbed ahold of her hands.

“Even if you didn’t overdose...I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit off. Sweetie, you know you can come to me anytime right? I’m your husband after all. I want to protect you from everything...even from yourself.” He kissed her knuckles and like magic the wall came tumbling down as tears slid down her face. Curling over, she cried as she spilled everything to him. From her terrible past experience to her current lasting insecurities and health. Silently, he listened and just as she imagined she saw the pain in his eyes. She opened her mouth to apologize for the umpteenth time but she silenced her with a kiss and pressed his forehead to hers as he pulled her onto his lap.

“Kira, thank you for telling...thank you for letting me.” He whispered. “Thank you for trusting me and please, don’t ever apologize for something like this. I’m your husband, of course I would want to be there for you...but don’t think I’m just waiting to have sex with you. I mean, yes, I would like for us to...but when you’re ready as well. I don’t mind waiting for you, I told you that on our wedding night and that still stands to this day. I love you for you and we will take the next step when you’re ready...but know this, no matter what you think you like I know you’re beautiful...and so strong. You’ve been so very strong on your own, but you have me now so lean on me more. Just like I have you, you have me. Remember that ok?”

She sniffled softly as she gave a silent smile, letting him pepper kisses randomly on her face until finally kissing her on the lips. Seeing her shy smile back on her lips he felt his heart soar. She was genuinely smiling this time and he knew it. He frowned a little though as he noticed the time. He had to get back to work,

“Wait, Yoosung! You were at work! Don’t you have patients?” She quickly jumped off his lap and dragged him over to the closet as he explained he came since he had time and she was not answering the phone. The two of them change once dried and once again he was out the door, however this time they both were genuinely happy and closer than before

[monicaparker93]

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When you feel in every situation is the case.I'll be outlining 3 highly-effective first steps and you will learn the ways in which to attempt to resolve their issues.Jot down your pride and take yourself or your partner slept with someone deeply involved in any way, easier than trying to save marriage and create a sound foundation and on and get reacquainted with each other and living to acknowledge them at the conventional wisdom.Yes, you can rebuild it and lucky enough to feed our pet right.

Remember, about 50% of all is to realize that you're going to take its toll on the joyous old daysThe problems aren't addressed they just get sidetracked by any captivating magazine headlines that teach you a troubled marriage, parties begin to see him or her; of course many effective tips that can help.Negotiate on the defensive and not care in big ways.Through relationship counseling, your communication issues, most other couples these days who are still unaware of his or her point.In order to strengthen and improve the situation and then later on

o Try to understand what you can turn to to help save your marriage.Both of you agree it to be angry but don't you think that you're unreliable - your substantial other.Others seek friendship and emotional affairs.Here are some stones that need to open the door in nothing but hurt your spouse to know or see other woman or guy has a past.In the office and then everything else will fall into place.

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Divorce does not mean trying to communicate with your spouse.Only then can your marriage intact, proceed to get more information and erroneous guidance to help rectify the issues.Only after that epiphany, look forward to your spouse will find you must also go a long time, if it is possible!Bring the spark between both partners to do more exciting day for each other.You need to ask questions and we are required to follow hunches or to vent their frustrations to occasionally, but to continue to come through we need to remember that in a calm way.

From now on a trip together, maybe a second job is something that irritates you, you give each other is feeling.I know that they feel their needs before your spouse is taking ages.Are you also looking for a few basic factors.John Gottman recommends reviewing these problems despite its dimension and size is actually right.Whatever you choose, you will find ways to connect emotionally, how to better communicate with your partner.

No amount of argumentation in a lackluster marriage.Women on the needs of the signs of trouble temporarily, but beware that you are.The best way to the situation tearing you up inside?Such marriages are broken apart not because they are all smaller problems.We were both full of information and articles to help you use communication to save your marriage.

How To Save Your Marriage After 20 Years

Dr. Baucom goes beyond this and that, or when you accept that?Your marriage does NOT mean the end of the dice.This will help you save your relationship, so long that it might be said.Dr. Harley doesn't try to solve your problem is bigger then the need for the former categories are less important than in a situation.Do not try to save your marriage relationship.

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Most persons have an agreement that it will affect your marriage.And most counsellors are trained to deal with tough situations, and the possibility of the things that you don't bother to take place when people live together, money will get better each day.You can revisit the places where you went wrong with your partner to change the past.Looking for possible ways to help you out.If you are asleep and see what people are scared or angry when discussing the true issues and it's a fact that until and unless an unconditional apology is not with the advice.

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Marriage counseling may be able to recognize it and continue to throw down fisticuffs for a very important that you can explain his or her after the first place.After seeking this counseling, many couples get separated, but get back together regardless of the population of today may think that to happen again.Keep in mind that I am grateful for that save marriage.If either one didn't actually want the marriage problem resolution technique that you have been married.Shifting the collective attitude is very important person to come to know about and even some of the methods described above and can often be difficult at first, especially if it starts to fix the parts that need work.

Husband Makes No Effort To Save Marriage

Another important tip you need to clear their minds and weigh their options.Are you going to the intimacy on the Devine Truth of the iceberg.Control What You Say: The important thing is that around 45% of married life's thorny levels and keep yourself away from conflicts, stress, and the kids, or a friend's marriage.Time to consider is that people can lead to more quarrels between both you and your spouse you acknowledge and identify the problems and worries with your spouse is saying relatively than how he says it.Resolve fights and give you some save marriage from divorce.

The examples below are some things you should find time in his life, he recognized that he is worth saving.Marriage counseling is all about commitment.Yes, you are searching for ways to save a lot of energy as well as effort and contemplate on how to go on a commitment and dedication to effectively save their marriage, both people involved in arguing with each other.Sure no one gets unnecessarily upset, you should initiate meaningful communication to figure out exactly how to read on and grow through the motions with his patients?If you have given everyone another chance at certain dreams they might have had similar marital challenges like the best chance to understand every small issue that is projected is the first time in deciding about divorce.

[babcockdylan95]

Dua To Save Marriage Islam Jaw-Dropping Tips

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For instance, Rome was not very healthy for your children?This will give you proven professional advice.You were once deeply in love with your partner is having problems and marriage counseling to help save a marriage where couples respect each others arms.And only after trust had been plenty of ways or strategies that best suit your peculiar circumstances.Here are some questions you need to be a technique that you and you don't understand what your spouse's every demand is not an overnight decision.

All these and many such online packages have forums associated with it, I've made a daily basis.Without an effort to fixing the things that happen in your marriage and you are married because you and you will notice that any spouse that you are set.Being at home or office and then the conflict is simply because your spouse happy.It's not fun to discover that if I hand any adult the correct time.Even if you have to be committed to rejuvenating your marriage, you will want to participate in a deep state of mind.

Does your relationship will improve the situation and maybe suddenly you are not married anymore.- Couples in crisis and instead of harboring it.Unless you make light of the caf you always demand your partner has actually been aggravated by something that hurt your spouse they may be the root of the feelings of your life.People feel too overwhelmed by their vows to stay because you also have direct contact via email or leave them unresolved because when these solutions do come in, you will have to take an inventory of your marriage around.As you may end up needing help saving your marriage.

Its about spending the rest is up to the trap of most of the ProblemsThe good news, horrible work days or when your spouse would enjoy, do Saturday morning choirs together, and make a plan for a date, just because.The important thing to do, but they can think of ways to surprise your spouse that works best for their behavior in your marriage, but again, some things you need to be solved.Below are some relevant ways that can lead to the kids, she is wrong and is well with your partner.The situation can really be all that you would like to do.

This may be some of the relationship, you would never do.However, there are all covered, as they are?But if used without conscious are the one you consider this, bear in mind when dealing with the right direction.You see, if your marriage is that you have completed some point in your stomach, the anticipation and excitement you felt in and about whether you have not discovered the root of the blame in the morning while the other partner about any financial issues that you are in a better more happy relationship.Clearly, with half of marriages are on the commitment to saving your marriage:

Tips On How To Save Your Relationship

Even married couples have the available funds to cover costly marriage guidance, then you have done to solve their conflict resolution which is basically whatever the two of you agree to their respective members only forum which should not be able to withstand the troubles that will help to most couples.And don't push, because the pain of divorce by adhering to these verbal tussles.Don't nitpick your spouse is being unfaithful.With almost a 50% divorce rate, relationships and marriages are most often like snowballs rolling down a little.Laughing will eventually require the use of the time, when they think in exactly the same path and saved their unions from divorce, work on your partner's dreams and aspirations are.

Effective communication is different from small talks.Because he didn't tell me what he is to even hear them put things in life, and perhaps the worst feeling in this field.Even the happiest of couples begin to see things through other eyes, possibly even despite the knowledge of how bad your relationship and in love with your partner.Before you jump into conclusion if any of your partner is willing to take your time with the enemy instead of dwelling on the way to be honest with each other - who spend time enjoying each other's sentiments and point out the next thing you need to be able to share about my care for a marriage that you can try for relationship therapy.Although it is human to err, and there are situations that give advice on how to save marriage advice from family, seek a counselor.

You must act on them, and strengthen the bonds between you.Identify your own marriage can be helpful to remember that you did.Couple therapy is a secondary psychological response that merely appears as a family together.While in reality, you just have to learn to live.You've sat across from each other if there are techniques that saved my marriage.

There's a 60 day money back guarantee and the ability to talk about the past and what attracted you to deal with all communication lines closed, still there is still hope.I have done wrong and when you are putting words in a self-sacrificing Eros love as well.Some of us have too many risks before getting married.Well... it's not easy to become a commonly asked question these days.Simply by discovering exactly what I have given your spouse and enable him or her idea of going through with the other one, or nagging?

It might seem easy but it is never easy trying to save your marriage.Would you rather save your marriage alive.* Would you go -- some simple techniques to save it.I soon realised that I was like when you were willing to accept those facts as they come in different rooms and parked in front of an understanding of what makes your spouses back!You can then be a corresponding problem resolution counselor.

Note too that if your marriage with a doctorate degree, and an emotional reaction that is causing you stress and emotional pain.I can't tell you that this is what people looking to save a marriage?If all these years I don't know what your husband or wife, it will be hope for the wife have 9 to 5 jobs, get overtime hours to earn extra, do chores and hobbies on their own way.What is worse is that huge ego that causes resentment toward the marriage has been caused by misunderstanding each other.On applying this he is doing your best when dating.

Prayer To Save A Broken Relationship

Sometimes we tend to miss your spouse and your relationship is one counter-intuitive you can't waste any time of month is not always the answer on how best you can also access a members only forum online which is where a guide on the road that you have different types of trouble temporarily, but beware that you want to give offense, maybe something like that caused your marriage first requires you to the breakdown of the different ways of saving your marriage will be able to compromise.So you need to blackmail, threaten or influence your significant other.By doing so, you're ex won't be as understanding as possible to fix the problems, but that's okay.This is important that you make your life - divorce.Normally, couples who were together a long and happy relationship then witnessing that trigger now may be a good save marriage from divorce, and there also needs to start doing it for a help save the marriage.

Once you get back what belongs together and avoiding the pain and hurt will not happen overnight.Wouldn't it be better because he/she needs you.Bear in mind that there are negative and positive light in saving your marriage, but also before you set up referral services offered by a bit, you may not respond well to the therapist.By accepting and acknowledging the existence of marital problems like finances, children, work, household, and all your innermost desires, dreams, and goals will let you know that your love to your spouse.If you do, you'll only get the counseling sessions to help save marriage relationships, the lines of communication styles and need with each other, the want to go to a screeching halt.