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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose.

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas.

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones.

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him.

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too.

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him.

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders.

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation.

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement.

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped.

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be.

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits.

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!”

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined.

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you.

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet.

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees.

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see.

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you.

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room.

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars.

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal.

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas.

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more.

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you.

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips.

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you.

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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caws5749 · 4 years ago

Text

CH 13: Experimentations

A/N: I hope you enjoy, I’m very excited about where the series is going!

Your Red-Headed Mentor Masterlist

Tony watched from the window as you descended the plane stairs, making your way towards the crowd of agents. He felt troubled and on edge, as if something was out of place, just slightly amiss.

A twinge of guilt ran through him as he took in your expression. You were frightened, though you tried to mask it. But mostly, you just looked like you’d tried to rectify something. You looked as though you were turning yourself for your sins because it was the right thing to do, when you really hadn’t done anything besides fight your teammates and not add a signature to a piece of paper. He felt responsible.

When Tony saw you fall as a gunshot rang out, he was already halfway out the door, the Iron Man suit encasing his body. He should have known something wasn’t right.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast he flew, he wasn’t fast enough. You were taken away on one of the jets, and he hadn’t seen which one. He couldn’t get to you, so he did the next best thing, and got to one of the agents.

“Where the hell did you take her? What did you do?” he interrogated, pointing his hand at one of the leftover men.

“She will serve a greater purpose now,” the man smiled, before crushing something between his teeth and falling to the ground.

++++++++

“Hey, Tony,” Clint answered the phone.

“Hey, Clint. Listen, something bad happened.”

Tony explained what he’d seen while Clint silently panicked. After clearing his head, he promised Tony he’d start researching and reaching out to some old contacts about new groups that were in the business of kidnapping Avengers.

Within five hours, he’d found something, prompting him to give Tony a call back.

“Hey. I’ve got a location, and a purpose, but you’re not going to like it.”

+++++++

Your head was pounding, to put it lightly. A more accurate statement would be that it felt like someone was fiddling with a needle in your brain.

Were those voices? Was a mouse running all over your body or was someone jamming needles into your extremities?

You’d thought that your next session with the “Physical Specialist,” as the Red Room called him, was tomorrow, not today.

Forcing your eyes open, you immediately called out in fear. This man wasn’t familiar and neither was the room. You had no idea where you were, but you had a feeling it wasn’t good.

“Hello, pet,” the man snarled, his lips curling upwards in a way that sent horror through you.

You tried to gather your bearings as your eyes searched the room for anything that might give you a clue as to why you were here and where exactly ‘here’ was.

“You’ll find nothing,” the man pointed out airily. “You will not know where you are, nor will you know who we are. You will simply exist here, as my pet, until you are fit for duty.”

“And what might that be?” you asked.

“That is for me to know, and you to find out.”

You tried not to scream when he plunged a needle into your neck.

“That’s it, pet, that’s it,” he whispered, coming closer so that his lips were ghosting over your ear. You were starting to see black at the edges of your vision, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before unconsciousness reclaimed you.

“You may call me… Dr. Romanoff. That name means something to you, doesn’t it, pet. Does it make you feel alone? Sad that you cannot call upon her? It’s a shame, really. You’ll never see her again, until I make you kill her. Until I make you cut her open, slowly, and painfully, so that you have to watch and feel every cut of the knife as you tear your mentor apart.”

You couldn’t help it when tears flowed as the blackness consumed you.

++++++

“Wake up, my pet.”

You jolted awake, tugging at the shackles that bound you.

“I am afraid you are still trapped, sweetheart. But don’t worry, soon you will be able to exist in a special type of containment.” The man smiled sickeningly, and you felt nauseous.

Something else felt….wrong too, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. It felt like something was coursing through your veins and threatening to explode out of you at any moment.

“Do you feel it yet?” he asked. He didn’t wait for a response. “That power, flowing through your veins. The experiment has worked.”

Your heart stopped.

“What did you do to me?” you growled.

“You will soon see,” he grinned wickedly. “For now, I think it’s time for another nap. You may familiarize yourself with your newfound abilities when you wake.”

+++++++

“Come on, Nat,” Clint begged quietly as the phone rang for the fifth time.

“The subscriber you have dialed is no longer in service,” the automated voice finally said. He ran his fingers through his hair. She didn’t want to be found, and so she wouldn’t be. And normally that was fine, except for the fact that Clint needed her.

Natasha had no idea what was going on with you right now. She’d assumed the government had put you up in a cell in some high security prison, and that you’d either be broken out by Steve or released when - or if - things resolved. And she certainly couldn’t do anything about it, so she’d left.

Which would have been fine, if the government had actually been the one to take you. Unfortunately for everyone, you’d been taken by a unique side branch of HYDRA, formally known as EXIA. They were highly invested in human experimentation and artificial intelligence, and they weren’t going to let their major experiment be done on just anyone. Once they knew they could successfully perform an implantation of abilities on someone, they set their eyes on you. You were young, resilient, strong, and above all, a public figure. There was no better way to get EXIA on the map than by kidnapping an Avenger and performing a successful experiment on her.

On the other side of the world, Tony was preparing for your rescue mission. With intel from Clint that seemed legit, he’d asked Vision to accompany him to check out whether or not you were being hidden away in an underground base in Siberia.

“What if her mind’s been fiddled with?” Tony wondered aloud, tinkering with his suit.

“I would not be surprised if it had, Tony,” Vision answered, looking more somber than usual.

“We don’t know what we’re walking into.” It was Tony’s way of saying ‘be careful.’

“No, we do not. We will get her back, though.”

Tony nodded. He only hoped the modified robot was right.

++++++++

“Up!” a loud voice commanded as an alarm rang out loudly. You startled awake, your head fuzzy.

“Up, my pet!”

You were much too out of it to fight, so you opened your eyes, shakily standing. It was then that you took in your surroundings. The closest way to describe the room you were in was that it appeared to be similar to a giant shower.

The more you woke up, the more another feeling, a new one, took over.

“Do you feel that, sweetheart? It is your power. Let it out.”

You looked for where the voice was coming from, but apart from the speaker up in the corner, you couldn’t see him.

But the feeling was becoming overwhelming, and letting it out sounded like it would bring relief. The only issue was that you weren’t exactly sure what would happen if you did.

“If you do not, pet, I will force you.”

You took a second to consider your options, realizing you had none. You took a deep breath, before letting go. The second you stopped holding back, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t even have a minute to be surprised when water was the thing that came out of you. All you knew was that you needed to let it out, that it felt so good to relinquish control.

You even caught yourself with the barest hint of a smile, though suddenly a wave of dizziness came over you, and you collapsed onto the floor.

+++++++

“Got you,” Tony muttered to himself, swooping into the room and blasting all of the guards. He picked up your unconscious body, panicking slightly at the pale color of your skin. Shaking his head to clear all traces of anger towards the man who did this to you, he made sure you were secure before taking off.

Back on the jet, Vision tried to assess you while Tony piloted.

“She appears to be dehydrated. She will need an IV.”

“What the hell did they do to her?” Tony muttered, growing angrier by the second.

“I got a look into their laboratories, as well as a very unique room. I am inclined to believe she has hydrokinesis.”

“Water powers.”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“I’m guessing she’s not very good at controlling them yet,” Tony sighed. “What type of unique room?”

“It’s purpose was most likely a training space for her.”

“Did you get a good look at it? We’re going to need one of those.”

+++++++

“I know you’re out there.”

“I know you know I’m out here. So, are we going to talk like grownups?”

“Is that what we are?”

“Yelena,” Natasha breathed as she finally laid eyes on the woman she hadn’t seen in years.

“Natasha. What brings you home?”

#natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x femreader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #black widow x reader #mine #your red headed mentor #your red-headed mentor #Natasha Romanoff x youngreader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #avengers x reader #avengers #mcu #marvel

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

Note

If you ever feel like it, I would love to see a fic for the scenario where wwx and jyl call jc after a family dinner only to find out that their parents didn't invite him. I loved all your bad parents + jc fics! My favourite so far was the mingxicheng one, where madame yu made jc leave them for 3yrs! And the series where lxc saves jc from zidian and takes him to cloud recesses has a special place in my heart (first cql fic ive ever read!)

BeeTober 2020 Day 15

Spite - Golden

Day 15 of BeeTober 2020 finally gives me an excuse to finish this wip that has been laying around for far too long now. Have some family feels between these three siblings!

Jiang Cheng is enjoying a rare, quiet evening at home, when his phone rings.

He put it on the table when he swaddled himself in a blanket, and it’s biting him in the ass now, because he not only has to unwrap himself, but he also has to stretch uncomfortably to reach the phone.

When he half slides off the couch in the process, Jiang Cheng figures it would have been easier to simply stand up, but by then the phone is in his hands.

Nuisance it says, and Jiang Cheng groans into the couch.

He was having a calm evening. He does not want to talk to Wei Wuxian, who will upend Jiang Cheng’s tranquillity.

Jiang Cheng is still debating weather he should mute his phone or not, when it suddenly lights up again, but this time it says A-jie.

There is no way in hell that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t pick up when Jiang Yanli is calling but seeing her name on the phone so shortly after Wei Wuxian’s makes Jiang Cheng panic.

“Is everyone alright?” Jiang Cheng asks as soon as he accepted the call and when Wei Wuxian huffs at the other end of the line, Jiang Cheng feels betrayed.

“So you have time to answer shi-jie, but not me?” Wei Wuxian asks and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“You know I love her more,” he gives back, laughing at Wei Wuxian’s indignant squeak. “What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asks once Wei Wuxian calmed down and he feels slightly betrayed when he realizes that his siblings are together and didn’t even ask him to join them.

Jiang Cheng tries to push that thought away, because they are allowed to spend time together without him—of course they are—but Jiang Cheng has a hard time fighting his insecurities.

“What are you doing?” Wei Wuxian asks and Jiang Cheng looks down at his blanket.

“Nothing?” he asks, because he doesn’t think it warrants being said that he is a slob tonight.

There is a very icy silence from Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng frowns.

“Why?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks, already on the defense.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Wei Wuxian snaps and Jiang Cheng shrugs, even though Wei Wuxian can’t see him.

“I mean, I’m on the couch, about to start my second movie?” Jiang Cheng unsurely gives back.

“You stupid asshole,” Wei Wuxian seethes and before Jiang Cheng can react to that Wei Wuxian snaps out “Just stay where the fuck you are,” before he simply hangs up on Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng is left to stare at his phone, wondering what that was all about, before he remembers that Jiang Yanli must have been with Wei Wuxian.

He clicks into his conversation with her and quickly types out Is everything alright?

It doesn’t take her long to answer, but when Jiang Cheng gets the message, he feels as confused as before.

Yes. Stay where you are!

As if he was going to leave his blanket nest, Wei Wuxian’s mood be damned.

It takes them almost half an hour to get to Jiang Cheng’s apartment, and when they ring, Jiang Cheng stays on the couch.

They are being cryptic, and rude for no reason, and they interrupted Jiang Cheng’s relaxing evening; so just to spite them Jiang Cheng makes them search for their own keys instead of getting up and opening the door for them.

Jiang Cheng can hear Wei Wuxian curse before he even gets the door open, and Jiang Yanli’s calming murmur is not far behind, but still, Jiang Cheng is entirely unprepared for the way Wei Wuxian storms into his living-room.

“What the fuck,” Wei Wuxian says first thing when he sees Jiang Cheng all bundled up on the couch, and Jiang Cheng glares at him, because he told him that was what he was doing.

There really is no need to be this surprised by it.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asks, directing the question more to Jiang Yanli than Wei Wuxian, because she’s bound to be the more helpful one here, but Wei Wuxian steps between them.

“Have you been doing this all evening?” Wei Wuxian asks and his voice is so accusing that Jiang Cheng immediately bristles.

He’s allowed to take the evening off, thank you very much.

“Yes,” he bites out, not bothering to explain anything, as long as Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him what has him worked up like that.

“And you think this was more important than coming to family dinner? Where Uncle Jiang announced that he’ll be stepping down soon? Really?” Wei Wuxian demands to know and Jiang Cheng goes ice cold all over.

“Family dinner,” Jiang Cheng repeats and he starts to tremble all over.

“Yes, for fucks sake. The one you couldn’t attend because you’re so ‘busy’,” Wei Wuxian bites out, but Jiang Yanli puts a calming hand to his arm.

“A-Cheng?” she asks, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s mood, but Jiang Cheng is already untangling himself from his blanket.

“I need to be alone,” Jiang Cheng says, and he feels very removed from his own body.

He’s cold all over, and he thinks he’s still shaking faintly but he barely registers it. All he knows is that he needs to be alone right this moment.

So he gets up and walks past Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli without looking at them, and then he makes a beeline for his bedroom.

He feels like he’s frozen, rather than angry, and so he closes the door behind him with a soft click instead of throwing it shut and then he simply stands in the middle of his bedroom for a moment, before he walks over to the bed and crawls under the blanket there.

He pulls it up over his head, and then he simply stares into nothing.

A family dinner. Where his father made a very big announcement.

And Jiang Cheng wasn’t even invited.

That thought finally breaks through his shock and his eyes start to burn with tears.

He always knew that Wei Wuxian was his father’s golden boy and that Jiang Yanli would always be the most beloved by his parents, but to think that his parents didn’t even ask him to this family dinner cuts deeper than Jiang Cheng could have ever imagined.

Jiang Cheng curls up into a small ball and presses his face into the mattress, overly aware of the hot tears that slide out of his eyes.

When his door opens, Jiang Cheng startles. He forgot that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli were still in his apartment and he wishes they would just leave him alone.

He doesn’t want them to see him fall apart.

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli says, and her voice is soft and careful.

“Don’t fucking coddle him,” Wei Wuxian mutters, clearly still angry, but Jiang Yanli doesn’t pay him any attention.

“A-Cheng, did you not know about family dinner?” Jiang Yanli carefully asks and Jiang Cheng presses his eyes closed even harder than before.

“What?” Wei Wuxian gasps and Jiang Cheng can just imagine how he shakes his head. “But Uncle Jiang said Jiang Cheng couldn’t make it because he was busy!”

“A-Cheng?” Jiang Yanli carefully prods him again and Jiang Cheng feels how she sits down on the bed. “Did you know about it?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng croaks out and he hates how his voice breaks.

There’s a horrified gasp, most likely coming from Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng curls up tighter.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Wei Wuxian repeats and now the familiar anger bubbles up in Jiang Cheng.

He flings his blanket away as he sits up, not caring that the tears are still streaming down his face as he glares hard at Wei Wuxian.

“I mean that no one fucking told me about family dinner tonight,” he hisses out and he cannot stand to look at Jiang Yanli, because he can imagine the heart breaking look on her face and that is already bad enough.

“No one told you,” Wei Wuxian whispers, the disbelieve clear in his voice. “But Uncle Jiang said you couldn’t make it!”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says. “And no one ever lies in this family,” he tacks on and looks down at his hands.

He’s still shaking, he notes, and that’s rather unfair, because shaking implies that he’s feeling something. But all Jiang Cheng can feel is a pitch black hole, right where his heart is supposed to be.

He knows that his parents don’t like him, knows that his father prefers Wei Wuxian and that his mother thinks him useless and worthless, but to have it thrown in his face like that still hurts more than Jiang Cheng could have ever imagined.

“We didn’t know,” Wei Wuxian says, just as Jiang Yanli pulls him into a hug.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t have the strength to fight her hands on him, and so he falls into her deceptively strong arms.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jiang Cheng mutters, because his parents were going to do whatever they fucking pleased.

“It does matter,” Jiang Yanli determinedly says and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head. “You’re family, and what they did was despicable.”

Jiang Cheng wants to cry and break down and agree, but all he does is ask “What were the big news again?”

“Uncle Jiang is stepping down soon,” Wei Wuxian says, just as he plasters himself to Jiang Cheng’s back. “He wants to announce the next CEO soon.”

Jiang Cheng huffs out a humourless laugh, because with how today went, you don’t need to be a genius to realize that it will not be Jiang Cheng’s name he announces to the world soon.

“Congratulations,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says and he feels how Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“No. I won’t take that position. He never asked me, and it’s not right. I won’t do it.”

“Well, I won’t do it either,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he has no intention of accepting that position as a second choice.

Either his father wants him to lead the company or he can go look for an heir elsewhere.

“Good,” Jiang Yanli says, and it’s so surprising that Jiang Cheng moves out of her arms.

“What?” he asks, because usually Jiang Yanli is the one to mediate between all of them, and to keep the peace in their family.

But going by the dark look on her face, she’s over that now.

“This will be the last dinner we attend with them,” she says and pulls Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian back into her arms. “I’m tired of seeing them fight, and of hurting you two. We’re not going back there.”

“It won’t be quite that easy,” Jiang Cheng says, because he knows his parents. They have ways to make their life hell, if they don’t do as they say.

“It will be. I will not allow them to hurt you further,” Jiang Yanli decides and Wei Wuxian is quick to agree.

“We’ll make our own family dinners,” he decides and puts an arm around Jiang Cheng as well. “Once a week, and we will never invite them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng chokes out, fighting with his tears again, but for completely different reasons now. “I don’t want to see you that often.”

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian yells and then topples them all over when he tries to tickle Jiang Cheng in retaliation.

Jiang Yanli moves out of the way, though she doesn’t do anything to stop them and simply watches on.

Wei Wuxian’s clever fingers find all of Jiang Cheng’s weak spots and soon enough he’s crying he’s laughing so hard and once the tears start, he can’t seem to stop, so it turns into pitiful sobs soon enough.

It seems like Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian simply waited for that, because they bracket him in on either side, and simply hold him while he cries and cries.

“We’re your family, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian whispers and Jiang Yanli presses a kiss to his head.

“And we don’t need them,” she agrees and Jiang Cheng clings desperately to both of them.

It still hurts, to know that his parents wouldn’t even think to ask him to come to a family dinner, but with his siblings at his side, it’s almost bearable.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng chokes out when his sobs started to die down and Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are quick to return the sentiment.

It’s not enough, not right now with the hurt so fresh, but Jiang Cheng knows that he can count on them, always.

And in a week he might also believe them when they say they love him, but right now he needs to wallow and be coddled.

And Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian seem more than ready to do whatever Jiang Cheng needs.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #family feels #jfm and yzy are fucking assholes #and i will stand by that #hurt/comfort #jc has the best siblings #Anonymous

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bizlawgal · 4 years ago

Note

I wanted to share a prompt! Hope is ok ❤️: Emma is norman's bodyguard. And he's so cute 😳. But she has to focus because she's a professional 😎. But he's so sweet and treats her like she was a princess! But he's also super important and she needs to give the 100% to protect him. But the way he calls her, it's just... Would be people surprised if she falls for him? What would people think if she tries to take him for her 🤭😏.

This took a while.

Here’s Lyn’s first contribution to the N/E tag for 2021 on Tumblr.

I personally enjoyed writing this because it’s so angsty, but it’s a dessert with a cherry on top for an ending.

I. There was no fitting person for the job other than her.

With a slender built, an agile reflex, and a taste for anything below the surface of safety, she was more than willing to accept the terms and conditions that came with the job.

"Oliver tells me you're experienced in this line of work," said Ray, the person-in-charge with most of the personal bodyguards assigned to the Minerva Family. "You do know that individuals who prefer this line of work are the ones who have —"

"— nothing left to lose, I know," she continued. This line was something she had memorized long ago. "No one will be looking for me if I do lose my life somewhere along the line. I have no more family to go back to."

Her father had died a couple of years back. Incarcerated for a murder she knew he did not commit, and died a sorrowful death behind bars because of an undetected disease.

Since then, she had taken a liking to the profession of looking after people; being a bodyguard gave her a purpose to live, and another way to make amends with her helplessness.

Ray's face echoed skepticism. "As long as you won't die before the person you're in charge of, then there won't be any problems. At least during this coming election period. Your service is of utmost importance."

Emma released a deep sigh upon learning that she had finally landed this job. "Who am I in-charge of protecting?"

"The heir of the Minerva Family," he answered as he flipped through her folder full of credentials one last time. "Consider this as your first day on the job. Here's the itinerary for today. He's a very busy person but make sure you leave a good impression."

He? She had never worked as a bodyguard for any man before, but being ever-so devoted to what she did for a living, she shoved the underlying curiosity in her mind.

Emma nodded submissively as she extended her hand to claim the supposed itinerary and immediately implanted the details inside her head. The idea to process everything in an instant was something she was good at.

"Memorized it?" Ray quipped, a challenging smirk making its way to his lips.

"Yes," she beamed, "I’ve memorized it by heart."

"Do you still have any inquiries about what your job will be? About the person you're in charge of?"

She shook her head in an absolute stance. "I think I'm well-informed."

"Good, because here comes the Minerva you're in-charge of."

She heard the simultaneous clicking of heels against the marbled floors, and when the door to the room opened, she swang her head to officially meet him with a smile.

Instead of a smile on her lips, she only registered an expression of awe; lips parted in wordless wonder and eyes widened with a different kind of expectation.

He was the first to move on, reflecting the same enchantment on his face, and spoke, "You must be —"

"Emma," she supplied. "I'm Emma Mikhaylov, and starting today, I'll be your personal bodyguard, Sir Minerva."

He smiled, and she was sure that it might've made her heart twitch a bit. "It's nice to meet you, Emma. Are you aware of our itinerary for today?"

She looked over at Ray, and back at the heir. Her breath hitched upon answering. "Yes, sir."

There was one thing that Ray failed to mention.

Norman Minerva, the heir to the family of politicians, was a damn well-proportioned, good-looking man.

II.

"How are you supposed to protect me if you're the one behind the wheels?"

It was another one of his comments that initially swayed her to think that he wasn't just one of those old money brats from a political dynasty.

It had been three months of being his bodyguard, and she couldn't deny that he was suspiciously treating her better than how he did with others.

Without taking her eyes off the road, she answered, "It's my job to chaperone you, too."

He subtly scratched his head. "Do I have to spell it out for you that I want you next to me? We could've asked Ray to chaperone us, could we not?"

"Ah, but Ray is out doing his own chaperoning for your sister."

He snorted. "There is no winning that. He fancies my sister, after all."

Emma chuckled lightly. "Miss Anna is really lovely. I doubt anyone would second-guess their attraction towards her, sir."

"Emma." There was a sternness to the way he said her name that made her slightly jolt in her seat. "I've told you a thousand times to simply call me by my name."

"It's inappro—"

"It is not," Norman sighed heavily, thinking how many times they've had this conversation. "I already told you that I do not think of you merely as my bodyguard. I simply enjoy your company and I think you know by now that I fancy you. We should try to be more casual."

This brought out another laughter from her, yet it was laced with awe and disbelief. She hoped that he couldn't see how hard she was trying to gulp down her nerves.

"That isn't part of my job description, si— Norman. What you're suggesting is highly inappropriate."

Norman raised a skeptical brow from the rearview mirror, and she tensed in her seat when his eyes bore into hers. "But you find Anna and Ray's illicit affair romantic? What makes my attraction for you different from theirs?"

Emma took a deep breath and internally reminded herself that she was a professional. This was not something she should be entangled in, especially since her sole purpose was to keep him safe until the elections were over.

She was simply thankful that they had arrived at the first one on his itinerary. "Would you look at that? We're here! Wait for me to open your door, okay?"

"Emma, you don't have to —"

She whipped her head and raised a finger. "No buts. This is my job."

It was when she got out of the car and paused for a second did she let the facade fade from her face.

Just being in the same space with him was getting harder and harder each day.

III.

It was rare for her to curse, but given the scenario they were in, it was hard not to.

"Damn election period," Emma hissed at the side, aiming the gun towards the door.

The Minerva Estate was breached and unidentified men were detected rummaging within the massive palazzo. Ruckus could be heard from the outside of the walls, and the more it came, the more fear resonated between her fingertips.

"Emma!" Norman cried out from within the confines of his walk-in closet, drenched in his own fear and misgivings. "Let me out this instant!"

It was rare of him to question his lack of strength or physical means to pry a door open; this was one of those rare occurrences.

"No can do, Norman," she vocalized it with depth, making it known to him that there was no way she was letting him out for the sake of his safety. "Stay right there. It's for your own good."

In a hysterical voice, he rebutted, "And what about you? Why can you not hide here with me?"

She found the whole thing utterly ridiculous. "Are you insane? I'm your bodyguard, remember? It's my job to keep you safe!"

"And what will I do if you die trying to protect me?" His words were more of a plea than a question, knotting within the hollows of his stomach.

"I cannot lose you, Emma."

She hissed at the words, and begrudgingly closed her eyes before snapping her view at the walk-in closet.

"And I cannot lose you!" She almost screeched it — everything that she had been bottling inside for the sake of her sanity, eating away every bit of suppressed emotions that she carefully placed at the back of her heart. "I will not allow anything or anyone to bring you harm. I can’t let another person I care for die! This is my job —"

"Who cares about this job —"

"— and this is what I feel for you! Do I have to make it more obvious?" She gritted her teeth and sucked in what was left of her confidence and her time.

He couldn't see her face, but as she spoke, he could imagine her smiling, the one that was ever-so bright in his eyes and never wavered.

"I'm keeping you safe not only because it's my job, but also because... I love you."

The sounds of constricted breathing inside the closet kept crushing her from the inside.

"Emma, I —!"

It left him no room to speak when he heard the door to his room opened, and the succession of gunshots took place.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours.

Silence consumed him, yet successions of calling out her name proved no merit.

She never answered.

IV.

"You are an idiot! An idiot, I tell you!"

Emma winced, not only for the pain inflicted on her by the graze of a bullet but also for the commotion caused by the man that had just barged through the door.

One look at him was enough of sedation for her; he was unscathed and safe.

She was about to lift herself up, gradually moving to position herself to sit on the bed, when his pair of arms reached out and enclasped her in an embrace.

His smelt of honeydew mixed with smoke, and she could feel the debris of wherever he had gotten himself into while she was asleep, against her cheek. Hearing his raspy shivered breathing against her ear struck every nerve on her body and the amount of tension on the tips of his fingers indicated that he was beyond worried for her dear life instead of his.

If they weren't surrounded by a mountain of eyes that would dare scrutinize this shared moment between then, she would've tackled him to the ground herself.

"I'm glad you're ok—"

"You idiot! Don't ever do that again!" His voice was demanding — pleading even, and seething through her skin. "I thought... I thought I lost you!"

His arms remained tightened around her, and she could only eye Ray with green eyes full of hesitancy. He only shrugged, but the way he cradled the smirk on his lips wasn't enough to deceive her.

She was merely her bodyguard.

She had no rights to him.

"Earlier," he voiced out, trembling, "You told me what you felt. What was I supposed to do inside that closet you locked me in, Emma?!"

The way he held her instigated that he no longer held any plans of letting her go.

"I wanted to keep you safe, si—"

"Do not call me 'sir'. I am simply Norman to you, and you're simply Emma to me."

His eyes are stained with unshed tears; only remorse for moments that he thought he'd never have with her again. "Will you let me hear it again?"

Emma seemed lost. "Hear what?"

His face softened with the memory. "What you told me earlier. Let me hear it once again. Let me know that it wasn't just a hallucination on my end."

That unexpected confession of hers from earlier earned her a bright, rosy blush all over her face.

"I-I have feelings for you."

Norman gave a low chuckle. "I guess that's another way of saying it. But I'm in love with you, Emma. From now on, stop being my bodyguard and simply be with me instead. Please, consider it." His smile came off sheepish. "I can't handle your constant disregard for your own safety for the sake of mine."

"B-but who's going to guard you?"

"I'll take over," Ray interjected, arms crossed over his chest. "It’s not as if I haven’t noticed the way you two have been acting for the last couple of months. Also, it's high time you stop being so reckless, Emma! You shouldn't have handled that situation all on your own. You could've called for back-up in his room!”

Emma nearly winced at Ray's reprimanding; he was right on the dot. She placed her sights on Norman and said, "But I'd still like to look after you. I've... grown to like it."

"Emma," he said her name a soft and gentle as he always had, and she knew that what would come next after her name were words meant to last a lifetime.

"I might not be as strong as you are with a gun, or as fast as you are when you run, but I'll look after you all my life, just as you'll look after mine. I’ll be your family. We’ll be a family."

Emma tried to suppress the grin on her face, but it failed spectacularly, and now she was facing him with immense joy, intertwining her fingers within his. His touch his warm and inviting, and it allowed her to further lament why she never allowed the idea of ever becoming his and him ever becoming hers.

"And we'll be equals?"

She searched his sights and he responded with the same amount of affection in his eyes; in his hold, she’d always be home.

"We were always equals."

#noremma #noremma prompt #the promised neverland #tpn emma #tpn norman #a bit angsty but it's a happy ending i swear

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missmonsters2 · 5 years ago

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About You || Part IV

Gif by: giuliacommissions (please check her out if you’d like to commission her for gifs and other work 💞)

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wanda had never known loss like she has until she lost Pietro. It’s debilitating. She can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even leave her house. Life is fading fast, and she’s not sure if she even wants to hang on. Enter you, a stranger that reconnects her to the daily things that makes life beautiful.

Warnings: Deals with loss & grief and the spectrum of emotions and depression that comes with it. Please note there is no glorification in any of this. Loss, grief, and depression are nothing beautiful. Also, please don’t hesitate or reach out for help if you are in a dark place. Love you, lovelies 💘

Genre: Angst & Romance

NOTE: Did you forget about this series? I wouldn’t blame ya LOL Please drop a comment if you’d like to be part of the tag list! 😚

PART I || PART II || PART III

PART IV of X

Translations + Transliteration Пьетро - Pietro

Count: 1497

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Honestly, you need to get out more.”

Wanda huffs as she tries to refocus back on her painting. Pietro has decided to come visit her during his lunch hour from work and he seems to be in a mood of harassing her on her social skills—or really lack of.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Pietro, but considering that my form of a 9-5 job includes me sitting in this studio all day painting solo. There’s not much I can do about human interaction.” Wanda dabs her paintbrush in the blue of her palette, coming back up with a steady hand as she continues her work.

Her brother admires the unfinished art his sister is creating, but he grins when he hears her reply.

“If that’s the case, I can totally introduce you to someone. They would seriously be perfect for you; hopefully, help you loosen the stick up your—”

“Пьетро!” She yells, accent thick as she glares at him, a slight blush on her cheeks. She rolls her eyes as she hears his laughter.

“Alright, but seriously, Wanda. I could introduce you to someone.”

Wanda focuses on painting again, absently noticing how she’s got the color green on her thumb, but she’s pretty sure she didn’t take out green today.

“Not now, I’m pretty busy with work.”

She whines when she feels Pietro flick the back of her head.

“Look at you, all grown up and busy with work.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You’re about to leave Wanda’s after doing her dishes and sweeping the floor. You’re seemingly checking to make sure you have all your things when you notice for the first time that’s heavily pouring outside.

There’s thunder and lightning, you can barely see in front of you when you look out the window.

You hum before Wanda appears beside you, looking out the window as well.

“How did you get here?” She asks softly.

“Driving,” you answer absently, still staring at the harsh rain pouring outside. It’s not like you haven’t driven in this weather before. You’re quite adept at driving in harsh conditions being overly cautious when on the road. You’ll quite often take the back roads knowing there won’t be other cars.

“This is going to be a bitch driving home,” you sigh, turning around to leave when you feel something pull at the end of your jacket.

You turn around to see Wanda looking at you seriously.

“It is too dangerous to drive,” she tells you plainly.

“It’ll be fine,” you tell her with a wave, but Wanda doesn’t let go of her hold.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to pour for, and it’s already getting pretty late,” you purse your lips.

“You can stay the night.”

You think Wanda would be more reserved about you letting her invade her space. After all, she had been quite clear about wanting you to leave and that you were a nuisance, but then you see the look in her eyes and the seriousness in them.

She won’t say it, but you don’t need her to.

“Okay,” you agree gently.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You find it kind of hard to fall asleep on Wanda’s couch. Not that it’s uncomfortable because her couch is weirdly better than your bed at home, but you can definitely hear the walls expanding and contracting and the drops of water from the sink.

You’ve probably lain in bed for hours now, wide awake. You sigh quietly, getting up and moussing your hair. You’re probably not going to get much sleep at this point, so you get up and to pour yourself a glass of water.

And then you hear it.

It’s quiet with Wanda having her door nearly shut, but the sound traveled through the small crack.

It was a groan.

And no, not a sexy groan, but a groan that indicated she might be in pain.

You bite your tongue, debating if you should go check because you’re not sure if Wanda would appreciate you entering her bedroom, but you hear her groan again and immediately go check. Opening the door slowly and quietly, your eyes try to adjust to the dark room. You do see a mass of hair in the bed and vague figure tossing and turning.

Making your way in, you kneel on the ground beside the bed, looking over at Wanda. Her face is scrunched up, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, and lips trembling.

“Пьетро…”

It’s comes easier than you think it would to brush your cold fingers against her warm cheeks, watching as her face settles and unconsciously rub her face closer to your hand.

Honestly, it feels like someone is slamming a hammer right into your chest because you never thought seeing a stranger hurt like this could hurt you too.

Because she looks lost like you do.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda can always tell if she’s had a nightmare. She wakes slowly, blinking in the dark. She feels different, but Wanda cannot exactly explain why.

Slowly getting up, she felt a weight drag on her hand.

Looking down, she noticed you sitting on the floor, hunched over her bed with your hand intertwined with hers.

Her eyes traveled over your bare shoulders and arms, noticing the lack of blood and tiny goosebumps, a sign you’ve been there for quite some time.

Wanda wriggles her fingers, feeling the warmth, and thinks about how hard it must’ve been to sit there as long as you did.

She can’t help but think how stupid you are.

But stupidly kind.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You watched Wanda’s face, dazed and stoic and pursed your lips as you finished up cooking.

Perhaps she was mad?

It felt like you did cross a line.

“Listen, Wanda—I’m sorry about the…hand-holding—”

“I’m hungry,” Wanda cuts you off, and you say nothing more but licking your lips as you bring the dishes to the table.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence until Wanda decides to break it again.

“Why three months?” She asks, stopping your spoon from entering your mouth mid-air. You put the spoon back down in your bowl and look over at her.

“I hardly think a month will change you, so I asked for three,” you say simply.

“Three months won’t change anything either,” Wanda argues back.

“Then I will just ask for more,” You scoop more food onto your spoon again. “If you’re so sure you’ll want to die, then it doesn’t quite matter if it’s a couple months later, does it? You can spare me more time, can’t you?”

Wanda bites her tongue.

“Why are you doing this?” She’s gripping her spoon harder then she means to, but she just doesn’t understand.

You look over at her thoughtfully.

“I want to know you.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Are you warm enough?” Wanda asks unsure as she looks at the blanket and pillow you’ve got on the couch.

You hum, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Somehow, you’ve negotiated to living with her because if you want to help her, then you need to be with her. Less time together means more likely you’ll begging for more time in the end.

That’s what you told Wanda anyways, and she seemed to reluctantly agree.

Wanda walks back to her room, settling in her familiar bed and sighs as she looks at the ceiling.

All this eating together, sleeping, talking, and sharing…it was only for three months.

After three months, she can say no to more time and everything would go away.

Even though that’s what Wanda kept telling herself, she kept tossing and turning in bed. Her hand kept clenching and opening, and she already knew what she was missing—or wanted, exactly.

Wanda liked holding hands. She wanted the handholding. It felt good, the warmth and steady pressure.

It was a mix of both pride and fear that stopped her from getting out of bed to ask you. So, she lied there, thinking about with family you don’t get a choice. She would hold hands with Pietro when he cried the first time he was rejected from his dream job, or when his long-time girlfriend moved to another city. And while she was always willingly there for Pietro, she did realize one thing.

Wanda liked having the choice.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When Wanda woke through the night again, she knew right away it was different.

She sat up and hesitantly wriggled her fingers, feeling the familiar warmth and pressure. Looking down, she found you sitting on the ground by her bedside again, the similar lack of blood and goosebumps on your arms.

The wriggling seemed to wake you slightly as you hummed quietly, eyes still closed before you intertwined your fingers more intimately. Your thumb pressing into the back of Wanda’s hand and fingers lacing together.

She lay back down facing you, watching you as your head rest on your free arm, unaware of anything.

How stupid, Wanda thought.

You were going to catch a cold like this.

But Wanda was already smiling.

PART V

#mm: my fics #series: about you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x OFC #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #avengers x you #avengers au #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #marvel reader insert #marvel imagine #marvel AU #Modern Avengers AU

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lesmismignon · 4 years ago

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replying to anon messages

In this post I shall reply to the messages that have been sitting in my inbox for a regrettably long period of time. (It is loooooong. Please click “keep reading” at your own risk.)

I’m not a very good correspondent. I’m very sorry. I never know what to say right off the bat, and then during 2019 and 2020 when I was mostly on hiatus, I would just post a chapter or two and poof back out, and on Tumblr I would browse a few things and then poof back out. I do not have a good track record with social media and online presence in general. And with real life problems (mostly due to work), at worst it was impossible to muster even the strength to write. It was maddening.

But there is something about Hellsing and its fandom that reels me back in even when I am far away. Excuse me if this sounds cheesy, but for me fandoms are like the orbit of a comet. If it is something that you loved, and will continue to love even when you are not “active” on it, you will come back to it, someday, somehow. I’ll always be grateful to Hellsing, for being an inspiration to write, for being a bridge to some of my dearest relationships, for some of the kindest messages I’ve ever received in my life.

you freed yourself for a job that was not good for you and related to toxic people (Integra-like – demanding the respect you deserve). That is badass brave – and that doesn’t become less by that fact that maybe the next job you got is not the end of the journey but still part of the way. And you are brave by sharing your work, sharing your stories revealing parts of your emotional world to the outside – that is totally bad as too. I think you can be very proud of you, really. So maybe right now, you might be in situation that does not yet make you happy in way you deserve it. But you know- there is big chance that this is part of your journey to this place – imagine, in some time from now, you may be a successful (brilliant you are already) author and in an interview you say something like “yes, back there in 2016/17 I went through some tough times, that influenced the work very much I got this price for today”. So just in case you maybe cannot see it right now yourself – please allow me to tell you – you are brave and wonderful. And re. the brave decision you mentioned – I know I am not in the position to tell you anything – but please do not do any harm to you. So, thank you so much for your work you share with the world, my life is better with it. Take care for yourself, you deserve the best. (so sorry, I am really not good with words, hope you get my point….)

Anon, this was the kindest thing you could have ever done for little 2016/17 me. Oh God. Time does fly by so fast. I want you to know that I read this message a long time ago, and it gave me strength to go on, even though I’m not sure if I am so brave, to be compared to our lady Integra >< I hope you are happy and safe, wherever you are. I hope you know how brave and wonderful *you* are. Thank you so much.

just wanted to drop by and say I love all your fanfictions! You capture Integra and Alucard's characters so well; I LOVE it. Take all the time you need updating. You deserve it. And good luck at your job! <3

Ah, I probably changed jobs like twice since then. But they have been all good and meaningful in their own ways. I really did not mean to take THIS long in updating but I hope that you enjoyed the recent updates if you are still reading, thank you so much!

Why can I not write here? I just wanted you to know I am grateful for the reading joys that are 'Snow White' and 'Satis'...

Thank you Anon! I am so glad you enjoyed them!

I LOVE SATIS SO MUCH YOUR WRITING IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND FLOWY AND IT MAKES ME CRY PLEASE KEEP UP THE BRILLIANT WORK!!

Thank you Anon! You give me too much praise, but I shall indeed try to keep it up!

Hey so please don't take this as me pressuring you but I absolutely adore Satis! Is there any chance we might know when the next update is coming in? Totally understand if not- it sounds like work is taking a lot out of you and I understand that you're writing fan fiction purely for fun but DAMN IF I DON'T WANT TO READ MORE OF YOUR FIC OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH ASDFGHJKL!!!

I’m sorry it’s been ages! I’ll tell you my schedule(???) for this year instead! For this year of 2021 I really hope to average maybe at least 1 chapter a month but I don’t know how I’ll fare during the busy months. I hope you enjoyed the recent chapters if you are still reading!

@fierce-little-miana Can you believe that I have just noticed that I had given you any kudos for Snow White or Satis?! Sorry! Your stories are really worth all the praise we can give them. (so I corrected it) Have a nice day!

Thank you! I’m terribly sorry for this late reply. You’ve been so kind and sent so many lovely messages. Thank you again for each and every one of them!

@sinish-tem Hey sorryy for bothering you but. That ALutegra fic was AMAZING!!I LOVE IT!Amazing job sport<3

You’re not bothering me at all! Thank you old sport!

So I don't mean to rush you or be annoying or anything, but is Satis still happening? (plz plz say yes)

You’re not being annoying! I’m sorry it took so long! Yes :)

Hello! So, um, I have to ask... is Satis going to be updated? It’s just that it’s one of my absolute favorite stories by my absolute favorite author!

Thank you! I’m honored! I hope you enjoyed the recent chapters if you’re still reading!

Hi! Are you still around? Are you doing ok?

Yes, I am fine now, thank you :) I hope you are doing well, too!

@aniphine Hi! First off, I want to say that I absolutely love your writing style and am so looking forward to diving into all of your fics! I just finished Satis and it’s definitely in my Top 10 Fanfics ever, which is saying something! Thanks so much for writing it. On that note, I wanted to ask if you had plans to update it? If not, that’s totally cool - what you’ve written already is fantastic. But if so, I’d pledge my life to you in order to get a chance at reading more. 😆 Anyhoo, you’re awesome! 👋

Thank you so much! You are awesome too! I’m honored that Satis is in your top 10!!

@dontfuckingfollowmeifpornblog You still around?

I am now! Thank you!

@comixqueen Hello have I told you that I really love your Hellsing fics? ;u;/ They're among the best out there and I reread them often!

Thank you very much. That means a lot to me from you. Thank you for rereading, I’m always wary of my earlier writing but I’m glad if people still enjoy them.

I have never squealed higher than when I received the notification for the new chapter of Satis. You are a true blessing <3 thank you for your words

You are a blessing! Thank you so much!

Hello! I know you're not very active around here, but I just saw a trailer for a movie based on the letters of Vita and Virginia, and I was immediately reminded of Satis and the quotes you so expertly used in the narration, and I thought I might tell you in case you're interested in the movie (the title is literally Vita and Virginia) <3

Thank you Anon! I did see the trailer! I haven’t seen the movie yet though, but I will, eventually! I am so glad you think I did the quotes justice! It’s such a beautiful quote.

Not sure how to start this, might be a little bold, and yet; let me simply say that I am in love with your written works. In fact, so much so that I read it all again, and again. It never ceases to amaze. And as for you, the person behind it all, you do seem immensely precious as well. I hope that you have the most fantastic day, you deserve no less.

Anon, you are so very kind. Thank you so much for your lovely words. I am just an ordinary person unusually invested in a particular set of fictional characters xD and I am often late to things and a bad correspondent, but I must be doing something right if you’re sending me a message as lovely as this. Thank you again, I hope you are having fantastic days as well.

Honestly ive read your snow white fic years ago but I loved it insanely much and im about to read it again today ^.^

Thank you Anon! Ah, Snow White. I am very glad you still enjoy it. It is so old, and I wish I had the courage to edit it and spruce it up, or even update an extra or two...

Are you ever planning to continue Satis? I’m in love with that piece of work.

Thank you Anon! Yes! I hope you enjoyed the recent chapters!

My literal text to a friend of mine that's also a fan of Satis when I got the AO3 mail about the new chapter was: "NOW THEY'RE FINALLY STARTING TO BE *HAPPY* HOLIDAYS"

I am very glad I was able to bring you holiday cheer. Would it be bold of me if I say I aim to bring you non-holiday cheer as well, now? xD Thank you so much!

HEY JUST CAME HERE TO SAY I LOVE SATIS, OKAY BYYYYE

HELLO ANON! THANK YOUUUUU

#anon #reply

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the-ss-zemyx · 4 years ago

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PVP(umpkin Spice Lattes)

Zexion and Arpeggio are Discord friends. They chat in private messages, raid in Verum Rex together, and may or may not have feelings for each other.

Ienzo and Demyx are college roommates. They hate each other, for the most part. At least they can both agree on pumpkin spice lattes.

Happy 2nd Zemyx Day of 2020!!

Specifically for today, the S.S. Zemyx Discord Server hosted a collaborative fic-writing event! Over the course of the past five days, four of our writing members teamed up on a Google Doc in one glorious, inspirational, chaotic, frankenstein-esque fic-writing bonanza! That's right, the fic you're about to read is the product of -four- people's efforts! Enjoy!! :D

(A HUGE thanks to my co-writers: Aliceslantern, Ennarcia, and Carbonpixel. This was a hell of a lot of fun to do and I'm immensely proud of us!! - Mod Arxsia)

Also available on AO3!

__________

Demyx hated his roommate. Okay, no, hate was a strong word, and Demyx did his best to be a friendly, outgoing sort of guy, so ‘hate’ was definitely too strong a word. He liked to make friends. Having friends was nice. Having friends was very nice, and so, he tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But his roommate was a different story, and Demyx did not like his roommate very much at all.

At least he was easy on the eyes, because everything else about him got on Demyx’s last nerve. His name was Ienzo, but his name might as well have been "Jerk," with a capital J. When he wasn't hogging the Internet bandwidth doing God-knows-what on a chunky Alienware laptop, he was lecturing Demyx on the virtues of keeping the floor free from dirty clothes and giving empty soda cans a proper burial in the plastic wastebasket by the door. Lame. Also, he was a little condescending. That jerk .

One day, Ienzo burst into their dorm room with the gusto of a hurricane aiming to speak to a manager about a botched coffee order. He swung his laptop bag onto his mattress. It bounced when it landed. "Out," he commanded.

Demyx looked up from his phone. He sat with his legs crossed on his own bed, his Discord app open to a private message thread on his phone. In a few minutes, one of his server friends, a guy with the display name "The Cloaked Schemer" but going by his Discord handle, Zexion#1309, would be starting a voice call with him. It was kind of a big deal--they had been chatting in their shared server for almost a year, and in private messages for almost as long, but they had yet to actually speak to each other. "I'm actually busy," Demyx said.

"I don't care. Out."

It turned into an argument, of course, neither yielding and probably disturbing their neighbors with the yelling. Yep, Demyx didn’t like his roommate one bit.

He ended up in the lounge by the kitchen, utterly fuming, cursing his idea to “go rando” with a roommate all the while. It’s the best way to make friends, Demyx , his mother had told him. What better friend than a roommate?

Very funny.

At least he’d been able to grab his phone. Of course, Zexion was wondering where the hell he was.

The Cloaked Schemer: Do you need to reschedule?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: roommate’s being a dick and kicked me out. Sorry!

The Cloaked Schemer: Ah, I too am having roommate troubles. I can sympathize. I know too well what it’s like when one’s privacy is denied.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: he’s driving me NUTS!

The Cloaked Schemer: Have you tried talking to him about it?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: He didn’t exactly uh seem receptive to talking

The Cloaked Schemer: It’s always a good idea to try for maturity first.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I did! Not my fault the guy wasn’t having it.

Anyway. Id hate to let that guy take up any more time.

Hru?

The Cloaked Schemer: Doing as well as I can, I suppose. I’m enjoying my classes so far. It seems a little easy, but then again, it is only one of the first weeks. Things should pick up more by midterms.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: ure too smart zexy. And didnt you skip a grade?

The Cloaked Schemer: A year, yes. I don’t think they call them grades in college.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Considering some of the people ive met, couldve fooled me.

The Cloaked Schemer: If I’m hoping to have a grad degree within five years, I have to fast track it. I’d rather not spend much more time in undergrad than necessary.

Though I am especially resentful that, despite the fact that I am technically a sophomore, I’m considered enough of a freshman to still be required to dorm.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: That blows

But dude, ure here. Might as well try to enjoy the journey, yaknow?

The Cloaked Schemer: Oh, Arpeggio. Your naivete is too obvious sometimes. It’s sweet, I think.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: har har

The Cloaked Schemer: I am disappointed though. I was looking forward to meeting you--in a manner of speaking. You’re probably one of the most sane people from our Verum Rex server.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Issa game, bro. Some of them, idk, take it a little too seriously

The Cloaked Schemer: Well, aspects of it are worth being taken seriously, but I understand what you mean.

Though the ship wars are grating.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: ha! Yeah.

The Cloaked Schemer: We’ll have to find some other time, then.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Mann i was hoping to see if you sound as smart as you type

The Cloaked Schemer: You flatter me.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Do you think if we lived near each other we would hang out?

The Cloaked Schemer: If it’s all the same, I’d prefer to keep my location anonymous.

At least for now.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I know. Just a hypothetical question

The Cloaked Schemer: I’d like to say yes.

But for all I know, you’re actually a forty year old serial killer who lives in his mother’s basement.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: harsh

You listen to 2 many true crime podcasts

Anyway, I g2g. See if the roomie will let me back in. Got homework.

The Cloaked Schemer: Enjoy your night, Arpeggio.

Hopefully one of us has a good one.

Demyx closed the app and repocketed his phone. He flopped back on the lounge couch, eyes squinting at the fluorescent lights above and his limbs ragdolling in uncomfortable directions. A good night, huh? It’d be better if he could spend time in his own room without having to engage in guerilla combat whenever he wanted to exist in his own space. Wishful thinking, he thought.

__________

Ienzo stared at the chatlog open on his computer screen. The circle next to Arpeggio’s icon turned a dull gray, and the remaining bits of Ienzo’s hope for decent conversation dulled with it. He had finally caught up enough with his classwork to have some free time to spend, finally arranged to voice chat with Arpeggio, finally gotten Demyx to leave the god-forsaken room so he could have the one conversation he’d been looking forward to for weeks , and now… nothing. All that planning, gone to waste. Another wave of irritation hit him, and suddenly he was out of bed and grabbing his keys. He needed some tea.

Ienzo didn’t get tea at the coffee shop, despite his plans. The alluring, hipster scent of pumpkin spice hit his nose instead, and he caved before he could stop himself.

The college employed students as baristas in the campus coffee shop, as part of the work-study financial aid, so it wasn’t uncommon to see one’s peers at the shop. “Hey, Ienzo,” Riku said. It was getting late; chairs were already on top of all the tables. They’d met in Ienzo’s anthropology class.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

“I can bend the rules for you.” He went back behind the counter. “What’ll it be? Your usual?”

He blushed guiltily. “Pumpkin spice. Please.” Curse that glorious, wonderful scent.

He smirked. “Coming right up.”

“I know it’s dreadfully popular.”

“Yeah, cause it’s good ,” Riku said. “As long as you’re not one of those “half-caff, no whip, vanilla and almond, five shots” type of people.”

“Why complicate coffee so much?”

Riku handed him the paper cup. “At that point, just drink coffee-flavored syrup.” There was a pleasant lull for a moment. Riku began cleaning the espresso machine. “So why are you out so late? Don’t you have an early class tomorrow?”

Ienzo grimaced. “My roommate and I got into a fight.”

“...Again?”

“We are not well suited for each other.” A sigh. “I went to the Residence Life office to try and apply for another room, but the period for that is over. I was told, and I quote, “unless he’s hurting you, tough it out.””

Riku chuckled.

“He is simply-- obnoxious ,” Ienzo continued, the pressing need to vent taking over. “Slobby, loud, and always around at precisely the most inopportune times. I was supposed to have a call with a good friend of mine, and it took some doing just to get him out.”

“Right, your Discord friend.”

“You have a good memory.” Ienzo swished the coffee around a little; it was slightly too hot to drink.

“The one you have a crush on,” Riku said with a grin.

Ienzo flushed painfully. “I do not have feelings for him,” he said.

“Dunno. You managed to bring that call up in almost every conversation we’ve had. If he was really just your friend, would you be that excited? Enough to hype about it for weeks?”

Ienzo shrugged. “I do not know where he’s from, I don’t know his real name, I don’t even know what he looks like. For all I know, he only uses he/him pronouns online.”

“And?”

“I just… see no reason to desire something I cannot have.”

Riku wiped at the counter. “Oh, don’t be so doom and gloom,” he said. “If the call matters so much, it’s going to happen eventually.”

“I know.” He smiled. “Well, thanks for the tea and sympathy. Er, coffee and sympathy.”

“Any time.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You too. Play nice.”

“Just promise to bail me out if things go awry, will you?”

“Ha, on my salary?” Riku winked.

Ienzo left the coffee shop. He didn’t want to return to the dorms yet, but the fall night was calm and quiet. He checked his phone (maybe Arpeggio was free? Though he did say he had homework…).

As a stroke of luck, he had a message waiting for him.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I have a room again! \o/

the jerk was gone when I got back!

The Cloaked Schemer: How fortunate for you. I assume you’re flying through your homework now?

Mel0d10us N0cturn3: nope! :p

this science paper is kicking my ass!

Im really no good at this sort of thing

The Cloaked Schemer: Do you have any tutors available? Ordinarily I’d love to help but it might be easier and more private to go there instead.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: \o/

We actually do have one of those tutoring centers I think! Thanks for the idea!

Don't want you to waste your special brain-powers on little ol’ me lol

The Cloaked Schemer: I’d hardly call helping you a waste of my “special brain powers.”

It’s not a bad idea to check your local resources though.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: o7

Don’t think I’m gonna make any progress on this paper tonight tho lol

The Cloaked Schemer: Giving up already? I didn’t have you pegged for a quitter.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Awww, come on! Don’t guilt meeee

My poor brain!

It’s mush!

;-; will you not spare some mercy for my poor mushy brain?

The Cloaked Schemer: I suppose just this once, provided you use your resources and go to the tutoring center.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: o7 Yes sir !

First thing in the morning!

My mushy brain thanks you for your mercy and endless kindness!

Ienzo’s cheeks grew warm, but whether it was from the message on the screen or the sip of pumpkin spice coffee currently running down his throat, he neither knew nor was willing to explore.

Despite the late hour, there were plenty of students milling about campus, taking up their little spaces. It had taken him some time to find an empty bench to sit on, but one eventually caught his eye and he claimed it immediately, sitting down with his coffee in one hand and phone in the other.

The sky was inky black, dotted with stars, the sun long gone by now. Nights were starting to grow just a tad chilly, the beginnings of autumn seeping into the atmosphere. It was Ienzo’s favorite season and the aroma of pumpkin spice wafting past his nose was just what he needed to make up for the disappointment of having his voice call with Arpeggio abruptly cancelled.

Well, maybe not entirely. He’d been really looking forward to hearing Arpeggio’s voice for the first time, but this did nicely enough, he supposed. It was better than sitting around stewing in annoyance over his damned roommate anyway.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: so what are you up to right now?

The Cloaked Schemer: It’s a lovely night out. I needed some tea. Got coffee instead.

What is it about pumpkin spice that’s so irresistible?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Never wouldve pictured YOU as a devotee of the PSL.

The Cloaked Schemer: Guilty pleasure.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: theyre so good. I can’t have that many of them cause caffeine makes me SLEEPY

The Cloaked Schemer: Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me at all.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: whats that supposed to mean?

The Cloaked Schemer: Nothing derogatory, I assure you.

Though the idea of you being hopped up on caffeine amuses me.

You seem like one of those people who has energy all the time.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: i wish

The Cloaked Schemer: I should--begrudgingly--head back to my room.

You should try working on that paper.

I mean it about the tutor.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: yeah, yeah. I hear ya

Hopefully your roommates not being a dick anymore

The Cloaked Schemer: Fat chance. M3l0d10us N0cturn3: enjoy your coffee~~

__________

Demyx sat for a long time looking at that exchange. He could’ve heard Zexion say those words. He was just so painfully smart, but Demyx could listen to him say anything. About anything. For hours.

He showered and got ready for bed, hoping that Ienzo would stay gone. But as it was, he was back. Ienzo scowled in greeting.

“Nice to see you too,” Demyx muttered. He noticed the coffee cup Ienzo had set down. Ienzo seemed to live on caffeine and spite.

“I needed to clear my head, as I do not have the luxury of privacy.”

“Well I gotta sleep somewhere,” Demyx said. He crawled into bed. Ienzo rolled his eyes. Demyx saw him grab his own shower caddy and head out to the communal bathroom. He thought he smelled--he blinked. Slowly, ever so slowly, he got up, crossed over to the cup, and sniffed it.

Of course he likes pumpkin spice lattes, Demyx thought bitterly. Ugh.

He went back to bed and fell asleep listening to music.

__________

The universe thought it was just so funny. Demyx had taken Zexion’s advice and the tutor he’d met with was his jerk of a roommate. At least Ienzo was unhappy too, if the scowl on his insufferably nerdy face was anything to go by.

“What are you doing here?” Demyx blurted before he could stop himself.

“I work here,” his jerk of a roommate answered in response, “as a tutor, for my work study. I take it your procrastinating finally caught up to you and you need some last-minute help?” Did he really have to be so damn condescending though?

Demyx hiked his backpack strap a bit higher on his shoulder and rapped his fingers on the tutoring center's reception desk. Ienzo could glare daggers at him all he wanted from his seat at the computer behind the desk, but the curious eyes of the other tutors and students around meant that he would have to maintain decorum. They both would, lest Ienzo lose his job and Demyx lose his tutoring privileges. He took a deep breath. "I need help with a biology paper."

Ienzo's expression tightened. "Would you like to make an appointment?"

"No? You said it yourself: this is last-minute." Demyx tapped on the desk. "I need to talk to the science tutor on duty, please."

"It seems like we're both out of luck tonight, then," Ienzo replied dryly, absently clicking at something on the computer monitor. "I'm the science tutor on duty at the moment."

"You? Gross."

"I'm not particularly happy about it right now, either."

Demyx considered his options, and cringed at his conclusions. His paper was due in two days, and it was only half-drafted. Without a passing grade on the assignment, he would set himself up to fail the class. Petty squabbles were not worth the hit to his GPA. He sighed. "Well, can you help? I'm kind of desperate, here."

Ienzo returned the sigh. "Fine. Follow me."

Demyx followed Ienzo around the reception desk to a square table in the far corner, a plastic chair on each side. Ienzo alighted onto the seat closest to the wall. "This better not be a waste of time."

Demyx pulled his laptop out of his backpack before sitting down across from Ienzo. "Has anyone ever told you that you have excellent people skills? Because if they did, they lied to you."

Ienzo rolled his eyes. Yep , Demyx thought, amazing people skills. They were off to a great start. Getting through this paper was going to be agony. "I'm paid to tutor, not practice social niceties."

The laptop screen lit up as Demyx swiped one finger over the trackpad. A screenshot from one of his more memorable raids in Verum Rex guarded the rest of his files behind his login password. Demyx typed his password as quickly as he could, shooing the image of his and Zexion's avatars away before Ienzo could ask any unwanted questions. Evidently, he did not type fast enough.

“Verum Rex? You're familiar with it?”

Demyx nearly jumped, shoulders tensing. He knew Ienzo was there; that shouldn’t have startled him as badly as it had.

“Duh? It's only the best MMO on the market right now. Not that you would know, since you're so committed to the whole 'smug asshole' thing,” He snarked on reflex, feeling slightly guilty about it afterwards. Ienzo was being friendly for once, or was at least making something of an attempt at it. Yikes. Demyx wasn't usually one to make low blows like that. He opened the Biology folder on his computer and selected the draft of his paper, making an effort to get along with Ienzo while they were forced to sit together. "Please help me with this? If you would be so kind, please?" Demyx made praying-hands in Ienzo's direction in apology.

Eyebrow rising - was it just one, or both? - Ienzo shot him a look, obviously unamused in the slightest. “If you’re trying to be cute, it’s not going to work.”

Demyx pouted and opened up his biology paper, turning the laptop toward Ienzo. “Fine, fine, just help me?”

Rolling his eyes yet again, Ienzo was just about to lean in to read what Demyx had so far, when the familiar sound of a Discord ping had Demyx scrambling to turn the laptop back toward himself. Shit. He’d forgotten to close his Discord window before showing up at the tutoring center.

While Demyx closed the Discord app, Ienzo watched him carefully, contemplative. “You use Discord?”

Turning the laptop back, Demyx gave him a look, half in disbelief because surely Ienzo was too much of a nerd, but not in the cool way, to know what Discord was, and yet he did. Shit, it would be really awkward to end up in a server together. “Yeah, who doesn’t use Discord these days? I mean, especially if you play games or are into, I dunno, any fan community stuff.”

For a moment, Ienzo said nothing, slowly turning to look at Demyx’s biology paper on the screen. “Alright, let’s see what we have to work with so far, if anything.”

Demyx sighed. Asshole.

__________

Was this some kind of joke? Ienzo was being pranked, wasn’t he? Any moment now Demyx would start laughing about wasting his time and walk out, like the lazy slacker he was. Halfway through, he half collapsed on the table.

“This is impossible,” Demyx whined. “You don’t really understand this stuff, do you? You’ve gotta be lying.”

Ienzo felt his eye twitch. “Not all of us are lazy fools who give up after 15 minutes. Why are you even here?”

“Because my friend said I should, and I trust his advice. He never leads me wrong, so even if I have to spend time with you , I’m gonna do this.”

"Your friend sounds like he has the sense that you very much lack," Ienzo deadpanned, scrolling through Demyx's paper. He took stock of the misformatted section headings, missing in-text citations, and the off-center data table in the middle of the mess. The topic of the paper did not appear in any of Demyx's written work. "Can you tell me what this assignment is supposed to be? I can't tell from what you've given me."

"It's…" Demyx shrank back in his seat. "I don't know what it's supposed to be. My professor gave us all a table of data-results-things and told us to organize and analyze them. I don't know what he wants, exactly."

Ienzo huffed, and almost slammed Demyx's computer closed on the spot. Thankfully, his better faculties kept him from breaking Demyx's laptop. "There's your problem. You can't complete an assignment if you don't know what the assignment is . Email your professor for clarification and request an extension. If you do it early enough, they might grant you leniency."

"Really? That's your advice? Beg my way out of it?"

"Not begging. Requesting. It shows forethought, self-awareness, and emotional maturity, even if you don't actually possess any of those things. The adage of faking proficiency to gain proficiency has some truth to it." Ienzo pushed the laptop over to Demyx. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

Demyx's arms crossed, and his expression took on the quality of a betrayed toddler. "You didn't even help me with what I came in for, asshole."

Ienzo waved away Demyx's indignation with a dismissive hand. "There's only so much I, or any tutor, can do without having a good idea of what your professor expects. Emailing is the best advice I can give right now."

"So if I email my professor, you’ll help me?”

“I give you my word.” A promise made in haste, if only to appease the barest responsibilities of his job. Hopefully Demyx wouldn’t make him live to regret it.

Not long after Demyx was gone, Ienzo checked his Discord app, surreptitiously on his phone behind the reception desk, to find a message from Arpeggio.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Zexy, this worst thing ever just happened!

My roommate is my tutor!

Save meeeeeee

The Cloaked Schemer: That is peculiar. Though colleges are small worlds, so I hear.

What did he have to say re: the paper?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Ugh he couldn’t even help

Because I had licherally no idea what the professor wants

I mean, the dude has an F on ratemyprofessor so

He said to email and beg for clarity and an extension

The Cloaked Schemer: ...That is sound advice, actually.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Youre taking his side???

The Cloaked Schemer: Not exactly.

But in academic situations, it always looks good on you to take the initiative and seek help when you need it.

I guarantee the professor will work with you, and perhaps be able to refine that same assignment in the future.

If he’s worth his salt, he’s seeking to improve himself the way you are.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I GUESS

You wanna do a raid tonite?

The Cloaked Schemer: Alas, I, too, am a college student with coursework.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: RUDE

Ienzo leaned back in his chair in the campus library. How coincidental, he thought. He’d just given Demyx the same advice. Then again, college papers--especially in the sciences--were not always diverse on the gen ed level. He recalled Demyx’s paper; he should’ve asked him to see the email, or post, or handout with the assignment on it. Chances are the moron had merely misunderstood.

Demyx liked Verum Rex. Perhaps they could have this to talk about. Ienzo wondered who he mained. Probably Yozora, he thought with a sneer.

The Cloaked Schemer: Actually, I can do one raid.

ONE. Brief. Raid.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Thats more like it! \o/

One raid turned into two, then Ienzo ended up staying in the library, at the tutoring center, until it closed.

__________

Demyx begrudgingly took Ienzo’s advice. After his marathon raid session with Zexion, he sent a brief email--agonizing over the wording--to his professor, who responded almost instantly with an apology. Several students had already asked him about the assignment, it turned out, so he was going to extend the entire class’s deadline. But if Demyx needed a few days after that, he could have it.

“You were right,” Demyx murmured out loud, as he read the email the next morning.

“Of course I was,” Ienzo said, not looking up from his desk. “See? All it takes is a little maturity.”

The irony. Demyx grimaced. He looked over at him. “So you’ll help me?”

“When--and only when--I am on duty,” he said. “I have a life outside of work, you know.”

Demyx wondered how true that was. Ienzo spent a lot of the time in the room if he were not in class or in the library. Did he have friends? Did he go to societies? He nearly asked. Then he looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in weeks. He had bags under his eyes, and was washed out, books spread in a circle around him. “Outside of studying, too?”

Ienzo opened his mouth, then shut it. “I am not here to socialize. I am here for a degree.”

“But don’t you… have any friends?”

“Of course I do,” Ienzo said, just a little too quickly.

Like he would honestly tell Demyx. “Sure,” he said, shutting his laptop and tucking it into his bag. “Well. I got class. I’ll see you at the center later?”

“Much to my chagrin,” Ienzo responded evenly.

Demyx’s day was ordinary other than that. After the professor clarified what he wanted in class (and, to Demyx’s immense relief, it was much less daunting than what he’d thought), he stopped by the library to check out some books which might point him in a vague direction. Ienzo could tell him if they were any good. He stopped by the coffee shop to grab a croissant and a coffee, and, on impulse, got one for Ienzo as well. The idea of it made him nervous. Maybe I’ll say they made an extra by mistake, he thought. He already knew Ienzo drank them.

There Ienzo was, sitting in the office. “It’s you,” he said in an unreadable tone.

“It’s me.” He cleared his throat. “Um…” He thrust out the coffee without saying anything else.

“Is this for me?”

“Uh, yeah.” He felt his face heat--though why?

Ienzo took it, looking confused, and sniffed the small hole in the lid. “Oh,” he said softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked--”

“No. I do. That was kind of you.” He blinked, his expression odd, slackened; Demyx realized it was without malice. “Let’s get to work, shall we? I don’t want this to take any longer than it has to.”

Ienzo helped him structure the paper, and reviewed proper citations with him. It would take a little work, but seeing it outlined, Demyx felt a lot less overwhelmed. Something he thought was a mammoth project would maybe take an hour or two to write.

“Once you have it written, come back and I can help you with grammar and syntax,” Ienzo said.

“Awesome.” He took a deep breath. “I feel… a lot better now.”

“One typically does when one stops procrastinating,” Ienzo said. He leaned back in his seat. For a second--but just one--he sounded like Zexion, all firm and proper, genteel without being rigid.

__________

"You got your grade back already?"

Demyx beamed as he held his laptop screen-out, his browser logged into the university's online grading system. One score was listed under BIO 101, labelled "Paper 1." The percentage displayed next to the assignment name was higher than Ienzo expected from Demyx. "I didn't completely fail!" he practically cheered.

"So you didn't," Ienzo agreed, nodding slightly at the number from his desk. "It's amazing what a bit of work will do."

Demyx dropped himself onto his bed and turned his laptop. He bounced on the mattress a few times while he looked at the number. "This is the best news I've gotten all semester and it's the best feeling. Is this what it's like to be a genius and get good grades all the time?"

Ienzo returned his attention to his own laptop, where a half-drafted essay mocked him with its blinking text cursor and nonsensical thesis statement. He clacked another line of bullshit into the document. It was for English class, he reminded himself. Any answer was correct if it could be argued well. "No, not really. You get used to it."

"I… I should thank you," Demyx said, after a beat of silence. "For your help. I wouldn't have had anything to turn in at all if you hadn't told me to email my professor."

Another line of bullshit trailed across the screen. Ienzo squinted at it, unsure of what he had typed. "Don't mention it. It's my job."

"But still. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ienzo could hear Demyx shuffling on his bed. "So… you play Verum Rex?"

"Fairly regularly, yes."

"Do you do raids or multiplayer at all?"

Ienzo shot Demyx a warning glance. "I already have a raiding group. I'm not looking for another one."

Across the room, Demyx had tucked himself into bed, his Star Wars sheets pulled all the way up to his chin. He blinked at Ienzo unceremoniously. "Jeez, forget I asked. No need to be snippy about it."

Demyx's head disappeared under the covers, and Ienzo returned his attention to his essay. At least, he tried. The Discord notifications in the corner of his screen kept distracting him.

Eventually, Ienzo admitted defeat and opened Discord. All of the messages were from Arpeggio.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: hey, do we have an opening on our raiding party?

Zexion?

Oh nvm he said no

What are you up to?

I'm taking a victory nap after getting a good grade on that paper I had to

write a while back

My roommate is typing something and he's so loud

What is he writing that makes him so angy

The Cloaked Schemer: I am also typing angrily at something

It is a universal collegiate experience

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: still so angy tho

Are you angy atm?

The Cloaked Schemer: I am… frustrated

I'm meant to be dissecting the themes in a short story but I feel like I'm only spewing garbage on the page

Perhaps if I present the garbage with enough conviction, I will be able to maneuver through this class

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: if youre writing it, it's definitely not garbage :P

you need to have more confidence in yourself, Zexy

The Cloaked Schemer: Ha. I think my roommate would disagree

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: well then he's a bum

Tell him that

Arpeggio says so

Ienzo looked back at Demyx, cocooned in spaceship bed sheets and doing who-knows-what under the cover of bed linens. He thought he saw the flash of a phone screen through the fabric, but the light disappeared as quickly as he caught it.

The Cloaked Schemer: I'll pass. He seems busy.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Busy doing what? Bum things?

The Cloaked Schemer: I certainly hope not. We're in the same room right now.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: oh. Awkward

The Cloaked Schemer: I’ll say.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: so you know ive been thinking

The Cloaked Schemer: Have you? What a concept.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: ha ha.

Its been a while since we tried voice chatting

Maybe we could try again?

The Cloaked Schemer: You would want that?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I want to hear your voice. To see if youre actually as smart as you write

Maybe youve got, like, a transatlantic accent, or something. Thatd be cool

Ienzo blinked, staring hard at the screen. His heart beat a little faster. It was so hard to determine tone through text.

The Cloaked Schemer: Maybe I’m not as cool as I seem.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: highly, HIGHLY doubt it

Youve kept me sane

I really appreciate our

Ienzo saw him type “thing” and then frenetically edit to “friendship.” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

The Cloaked Schemer: The feeling is mutual.

A long, long pause. Ienzo did not know what else to say. His face was burning.

The Cloaked Schemer: Normally I’d rather be caught dead than admit this.

But it does get somewhat lonely here.

It’s nice to have someone to talk to.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I know what u mean

Sometimes i feel like i dont really know who i am

And like college is supposed to be about finding that

But its hard.

The Cloaked Schemer: You don’t have to tell me twice.

Part of why it’s so easy to exist in online spaces, in games. Appearance doesn’t matter. It’s like being a more concentrated version of oneself.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Do u feel like a more concentrated version of yourself?

The Cloaked Schemer: When I talk to you.

Ienzo’s heart was pounding. He thought he heard Demyx sigh across the room. Was he typing too hard?

Arpeggio started and stopped typing several times, just making Ienzo more nervous. What is he going to say? Did I push it too hard? Was I too forward?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Me too, Zexion

I wish we knew each other. Like, irl

Getting to do raids in person

That would be so fun

And i dunno, maybe do other things

Go out to eat. Go to the movies. Maybe go dancing.

Do u like clubs?

The Cloaked Schemer: I’ve never been.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: it takes some getting used to

But the energy of a crowd is electric

Especially with people you know

Oh god oh god oh god , Ienzo thought. His hands were trembling.

The Cloaked Schemer: Where would we go to eat?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: anywhere you want

Well. on a college students budget anyway

-laughs in poor

The Cloaked Schemer: Ah, so, five star cuisine, then.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Just dont order the lobster

In all seriousness. We need to vc sometime

The Cloaked Schemer: Yes.

There’s going to be a raid event on Saturday. Perhaps then?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Depends on if i have the room :/

Wanna say yes so bad

The Cloaked Schemer: I know the feeling.

I suppose if I get desperate enough I can rent out a study cubicle in the library.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Awww you’d do that for little ol’ me?

The Cloaked Schemer: Yes, I

His finger slipped, hitting the enter key a moment too soon before he could even finish the thought in his head. His hands felt almost clammy, the inner mechanizations of his mind working on overdrive, as if trying to race against the pitter-patter beat of his heart. Shit. Perhaps… Riku was right after all? Had Ienzo, usually so level-headed, actually developed a crush on Arpeggio? It was utterly nonsensical, and yet he couldn’t deny that he felt a comfort with Arpeggio that he didn’t feel with anyone else he knew, online or offline. Was it possible to fall- ...to develop a smattering of feelings for someone based on typed text alone?

Well, wasn’t that a theme in literature? Two people falling in love over written letters? For all Ienzo knew, there could very well have been instances of it happening in real life, in the days of old, long, long before the age of technology and the internet. A pair of penpals, miles and miles of distance between them, communicating through the written word; it could happen, couldn’t it?

Hold on. When the hell did he turn into a sap ? Frowning, Ienzo ran a hand over his face, feeling like a lovestruck fool.

No. No, this couldn’t be a crush. Just because it was so easy to talk to him, just because they’d been talking for a year or so by now, it didn’t mean-

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Zexy?

You ok?

Shit, how long had he zoned out for?

The Cloaked Schemer: Sorry. Got distracted.

But regardless, I think we should aim for Saturday.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Great!

Hoping we don’t get interrupted by our dick roomies

The Cloaked Schemer: Quite. It’s a date, then.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Yes :3

Ienzo took a deep breath. Regardless as to whether or not this was practical, it seemed that Arpeggio reciprocated his flirting.

Wait. Ienzo looked at the screen, cheeks heating up as he realized he’d typed the word ‘date,’ and Arpeggio said ‘yes .’ He couldn’t deny the little flutter of his stomach in that moment.

__________

Demyx set his phone aside, his heart beating heavily in his chest, his face bright red. He swallowed. There was no way sleep would come easily now, and it probably wouldn’t be until Saturday.

He thought about the nature of crushes. He’d never seen Zexy’s face, or heard his voice, but he was so adept at weaving words in the way Demyx wanted to be with music. He tried to imagine him, what he might be like.

He rolled onto his back. Ienzo’s frenetic, noisy typing had stopped. Demyx sat up, rubbed his eyes, and pretended he’d been napping the whole time. “You good?”

Ienzo shut his computer quickly, like he’d been doing something questionable. “Yes. Fine.” He was a little out of breath. What the hell had he been writing?

Demyx blinked. “I’m gonna go get a coffee,” he said instead. “Want me to bring you one back?”

“Sure,” Ienzo said, his face flushed.

Demyx shook his head. Well. If Ienzo needed to take care of that he had at least a few minutes now. “Cool.”

The whole time he was at the coffee shop, he kept thinking about Zexion, all their little conversations. It was evolving, and evolving fast. Demyx knew from brief experimentation with dating apps that just because a person sent you some flirty words didn’t mean anything would come of it. For all he knew, Zexion lived in New Zealand, or something.

That didn’t stop him from wanting it.

He drew a deep breath, exhaled. Well. Saturday he would find out.

Demyx wasn’t going to let Ienzo ruin his chances of meeting Zexion. He decided to strike preemptively, pausing at the door of their dorm room and sucking in a breath, steeling himself. He could do this. He could ask his roommate for the room for one night, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Hey, so, I have a thing Saturday,” he said vaguely. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t coming off as strongly as he intended, but he could still try. “Mind if I hang here alone for a few hours?”

Ienzo glanced up. The flush was gone, and he seemed much more composed. “Yes, that’s fine. I was going to go study anyway.”

“Study? Don’t you ever have any fun?”

“Perhaps I find studying fun,” Ienzo said.

“Suit yourself.” As he passed on his way back to the bed, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Ienzo had Discord open.

__________

Friday night, Demyx barely slept. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Crushes didn’t usually… hit him this hard. It’s dumb. It’s so dumb. His loneliness was getting to him. Even Saturday morning, there were some hours until the events started. He looked at his DM history with Zexion. They’d spoken briefly, only to confirm a time and place for their characters to meet and chat. He sat at his desk, his hands trembling, as the game booted up.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: You ready?

The Cloaked Schemer: Of course.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Cool.

My mic isnt like great

But you can still hear me

He was shaking. He was shaking. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself.

The Cloaked Schemer: You’re a broke college student. I’m not expecting a professional setup here.

Though I will say my booth is pleasantly soundproofed.

Let me connect.

And Demyx thought his heart might stop. I’m so gay, he thought. A second later he heard that familiar call connection. He twitched a little, and his mic clattered loudly on the floor. Shit!

“Arpeggio? Are you alright?”

“I just dropped the--”

A long, long pause.

He knew that voice.

“Zexion?” He picked up the mic and set it down.

“Arpeggio?”

“I dropped the mic.” Demyx swallowed.

“You…” Zexion fumbled for words. “Speak a little more, please.”

“Is that really you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re in a library right now.”

“And you had an event… Saturday.”

“Ohh my god,” Demyx mumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, just that he was feeling a lot of it. “Ienzo. You’re Zexion?”

“It’s an anagram,” he said, his tone numb.

“Seriously, this whole time--”

“Evidently.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but at the same time, there was something warm in his chest.

Wait, no. No. This was Ienzo, and they hated each other--

Demyx realized he was panicking. He also, vaguely, in the back of his mind, realized the call had disconnected.

Demyx spent the next few minutes desperately trying to control his breathing, trying to not focus on how Zexion- No, Ienzo- was so disgusted it was him that he’d immediately dropped the call.

Of course. Of fucking course. The universe hated him. The universe had it out for him, surely. Why else would this have happened? He finally meets this sweet, smart, wonderful guy who takes him seriously and actually likes talking to him, on a regular basis , and then… And then… It turns out to be the very same roommate who hates him. That would just be his damned luck, wouldn’t it?

Grabbing his pillow, Demyx face-planted into it, pressing it furiously against his eyes to stop them from burning, to stop the tears that threatened to spill. Of all the people it could’ve been. Why Ienzo ?

Demyx had been nervous enough as it was, afraid the person on the other end would think him annoying - his voice, his tone, the way he just couldn’t fucking shut up sometimes when he got excited about something. Alternatively, the filter between his brain and his mouth was immensely weaker than the filter between his brain and his fingers, and he could’ve said the wrong thing, unable to stop himself in the same way his hand can catch itself on the enter key before hitting it, or quickly delete the message before Zexion could read it.

But this was so much worse, because Ienzo already knew him, already had an impression of him, and that impression was far from good. It’s no wonder he disconnected the call so suddenly. He likely couldn’t stand hearing the truth any longer, stomach churning with disgust, head filled to bursting with regret, and not just regret over the voice call, but everything .

An almost entire year’s worth of conversations, soiled now, because Demyx was, well, Demyx . A slob. A slacker. An idiot. He wasn’t worth Ienzo’s time, and now he knew he wasn’t worth Zexion’s.

A sharp ache spread over his chest, cold and numbing, all of him tense with it. He… liked Zexion. He very genuinely liked him, so excited to get to talk to him, his bristling nerves aside. All week he’d thought about it, daydreaming, wondering what the person on the other end would sound like, if he’d love that voice as much as he loved the text on his Discord screen.

It no longer mattered, not when it was now clear that Zexion - no, Ienzo , was utterly disgusted with him.

It was over. It was all over - their friendship, a year’s worth of personal conversations, these budding feelings he was beginning to have, or that he’s been having for a while now…

On the flipside, was Demyx disappointed that it turned out to be Ienzo? He… didn’t know the answer to that, still reeling in the fact that Zexion, his dear friend and crush, hated him. The pillow was starting to suffocate him and he instinctively pulled it away from his face, eyes still burning. He sucked in some deep breaths and just when he was finally on the cusp of calming down, his door swung open so fast Demyx feared it’d break off the hinges.

Ienzo leveled him with a determined stare. “You.”

__________

Ienzo sat.

And sat.

And stared, and sat some more.

He was dizzy. Slowly, so slowly, all the pieces clicked together. The coffee. The references to Verum Rex. How they were always just missing each other. The whole tutoring scenario. Good god . So this person he’d been harboring feelings for this whole time was--

He pressed a hand to his forehead. And yet, a small part of him… was relieved?

It could be…

No, it couldn’t be anything! They hated each other! They’d complained to each other about each other more times than Ienzo could count. They had--

Ienzo felt the walls of the study booth begin to close in around him, pushing the breathable air out of the room. His ribcage constricted around his lungs, and his heartbeat pounded at his temples. He gathered his laptop and microphone in his arms and burst out of the room, chest heaving.

He braced himself against the outer wall of the study booth and willed himself to breathe normally, his head tilted all the way back to rest on the door. This was real life, and he was fine. He would be fine, anyway, with a bit of finessing. Okay, perhaps a little more than a bit.

Ienzo retrieved his backpack and stowed his equipment inside as he analyzed the situation. Arpeggio and Demyx were the same person. A strange revelation, but not world-ending. He could find another raiding party. He could join another server. There was more than one person with whom to play Verum Rex.

But--

Ienzo caught himself zipping and unzipping the top pocket of his backpack, more forcefully than necessary each time. A new server didn't sound appealing. A new raiding party, even less so. He would have to chat with new people, learn their idiosyncrasies and fighting styles, learn their pseudonyms and remember how they differed from their usernames. It all sounded so… hard, and boring, and unnecessary.

He zipped his backpack closed for the last time and held it at his side by its tiny top handle. Its back straps kicked at his calves as he raced out of the study area, through the main lobby, and into the courtyard. His mind was set. His choice was clear. The only thing to do was follow through.

Ienzo made a beeline back to the room. He found Demyx sitting cross-legged on his own bed, his computer accessorized with a small budget microphone and his face awash with something that looked like guilt. His eyes widened when Ienzo crossed the threshold.

"You." Ienzo's statement rang out like a gong.

Demyx swallowed. "Yeah?"

"We need to talk." Ienzo shut the door behind himself. It slammed closed, though Ienzo had not intended for that.

"...yeah." Demyx turned back to his computer, fiddling at the USB port where his microphone connected to the rest of the machine. "Ienzo, I--"

"Shut up." Ienzo stalked into the room, single-minded. He stopped at the edge of Demyx's bed. "Shut up and listen, for once."

Demyx's shoulders rose to his ears. He stayed quiet.

Ienzo dropped his backpack to the floor. Though his fingers trembled, his resolve held firm. The moment of reckoning was upon him. "Did you know?"

Demyx shook his head.

"Did you want to know?"

He responded in a whisper, pained and hushed. "I wanted to meet Zexion."

Ienzo's hands trembled faster. He balled them into fists to compensate. "And now that you know," he said, "do you regret it? Wanting to know? Learning the truth?"

A tear trailed down Demyx's downcast cheek. "No."

Something deep inside Ienzo wanted to reach out and wipe away the tears that followed, while Demyx's breath caught in gasps over his laptop keyboard. Ienzo steeled himself. "I… don't regret it, either."

"You don't?" Demyx looked up and met Ienzo's gaze with caution. Aside from the red tinge at their edges, his eyes looked almost hopeful.

Ienzo softened, relaxed his fists. "I don't want to find a new server, or a new raiding party."

Sniffling, Demyx nodded. "I don't, either."

"I don't want to stop talking to Arpeggio," Ienzo continued, his heart playing timpanis in his chest. "He is a close friend of mine."

"He's also your lazy roommate." Another tear escaped, this time going down the side of Demyx's nose. Demyx wiped at it with the heel of his hand. "Ienzo, I--"

"We've had differences. We've also had commonalities, albeit in virtual space. There's no reason we cannot bring the two together."

"Ienzo--"

"There's no reason we should be at each other's throats. We--"

"Ienzo!"

He blinked. The drum performance in his chest missed a beat, then started from the top at full speed. "Yes?"

Demyx unplugged the microphone from his computer, sighed, and tossed it to the far edge of his bed. "I don't think that will work."

Ienzo frowned and crossed his arms. He was beginning to remember why he and Demyx didn't get along in meatspace. "Why, pray tell, is that?" he asked.

Demyx swallowed again, more conspicuously than before. "It's just… I…"

Ienzo leaned forward, his head cocked to the side. "You what?"

"I, um, I…"

"Go on. I don't have all night."

Demyx pushed his computer aside and drew his knees into his chest. "I… shit. I had a thing for Zexion." His shoulders hitched with sardonic laughter. "Shit. Fuck. This sucks." He reached behind himself for his pillow and buried his face in it. "This is so embarrassing," he whined, his voice muffled.

Ienzo's budding anger deflated. "You… you did?"

Demyx nodded into his pillow. "Uh-huh. And now you know, too."

Ienzo opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't make the words in his head form coherent phrases. His throat sputtered with half-formed consonants instead. Words. For fuck’s sake, wasn’t he good at words? Why was this suddenly so damn hard?

"This is the worst," Demyx groaned. "Just kill me now. Make it look like an accident. Tell my family I loved them. Don't let my sister take my bedroom at home."

Ienzo's faculties returned in the bumbling, clumsy way that drunkards stumbled home from dank local pubs. "I... don't think that will be necessary," Ienzo managed, through his own confusion.

"No?" Demyx put his pillow back in its place, and faced Ienzo with dried saline clumping in his eyelashes. "What, are you gonna torture me instead? Make me regret being born? Because you're a little late on that front, buddy, I already do."

Ienzo took a deep breath. His crossed arms dropped to his side, then held each other at the elbows. "I may have developed… similar feelings. For Arpeggio." Ienzo's mouth went dry. The drum performance upgraded itself to a full marching band drumline, twenty-five snare drums pounding paradiddles and rolls in synchronized sweeps.

A silence consumed the space between them, interrupted only by Demyx's sniffling and Ienzo's heartbeat. It stretched into the abyss and the stratosphere in equal measure, and stung more acutely than the idea of never speaking to Arpeggio again.

Demyx broke the silence by clearing his throat. "So…"

Ienzo coughed. "So..."

"Are we…" Demyx unfolded his legs and swung them over the side of his bed. His hands grasped at his mattress, and his head hung from his shoulders "Are we, y'know… do we still, like…"

"Do you want to be?" Ienzo shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Friends, cohorts, party members, server mutuals? Or…"

"Or what?"

"Or…" Ienzo trailed off. Or what, indeed? Friends with benefits? Significant others? Boyfriends? The mere thought made Ienzo's palms sweat. "Or…"

In the moment between Ienzo's efforts to name his emotions and act on them, Demyx had sprung up from the bed and slipped his hands around the sides of Ienzo's face, his thumbs resting just below the apples of Ienzo's cheeks. His breath tickled at Ienzo's nose and lips. "Or… this?"

Heat seared at every inch of Ienzo's face. If he could feel Demyx's breath, Demyx could feel his as well. "...I suppose, yes."

"In that case," Demyx murmured, somehow purring and wavering at the same time, "tell me no." He rested his forehead on Ienzo's. "Tell me no, and we won't. I promise. Things can go back to normal."

A whimper, wholly undignified and unbidden, escaped from Ienzo's higher register. "I can't," he whispered.

Demyx leaned forward, and Ienzo followed. At some point, they met in the middle, and the world's axis shifted two degrees to the left. It was a tentative press of lips, but Demyx’s hands on his face kept him anchored. It didn’t feel like Ienzo thought it would, and self-consciousness invaded. Suddenly Ienzo felt very young and immature; vulnerable .

But… after a moment or so, not so much. Demyx was so warm against him, and Ienzo realized it was a learning curve, one he was picking up with his usual speed. He was shaking a little in disbelief. It was so-- nice.

Demyx pulled away and brushed his fingers across his cheek. "You're trembling."

"Forgive me. I--" He swallowed.

"No, it's cool." Demyx pulled away and smiled, brighter than Ienzo had ever seen someone smile before. "Do you… want to go again?"

Ienzo did, very much so. "I'm not opposed, per se, but I think we should… explore our relationship a bit. Perhaps starting with our mutual interest in pumpkin spice flavors."

“Sounds like a plan to me, Zexy,” Demyx grinned.

__________

Riku set the pair of pumpkin spice lattes down on the little square table in the back corner of the coffeeshop, glancing at Ienzo, then Demyx, then back at Ienzo, one eyebrow shooting up into his hair. “Is the world ending? Did I miss a memo on the corkboard in the back room?”

Ienzo coughed. He was vaguely aware of the heat rising in his cheeks. Damn it all to hell. Of course Riku was here, why would it have been anyone else? Sighing, he gestured to Demyx, bracing himself for the inevitable bit of humiliation, courtesy of the one friend who knew about his very apparent crush on his Discord friend. “Riku, meet Arpeggio.”

Riku’s other eyebrow shot up into his hair. “You’re shitting me.”

Demyx looked across the table at Zexion, clearly trying to fight the incoming of a shit-eating grin. “You talked about me to people?”

"Only the unimportant ones," Ienzo said, picking up his cup and sipping loudly.

“Psh,” Riku spat with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, and every damn minute of the day. If I had a dollar for every time you made heart eyes at the ceiling while talking about him, I could quit this job and pay off my tuition.”

Ienzo balked at that, nearly choking on his latte. “It was not that often.”

Waving a hand, Riku corrected himself, looking pointedly at Demyx. “Wait, no, he’s right. I’m forgetting that half the time, he’d be complaining about his horrible room-”

“Shouldn’t you be behind the counter?” Ienzo hissed, glaring at Riku. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Demyx’s gaze flicking between him, like he was watching a game of ping-pong. “Or should I text Sora and Kairi about all those little hearts you like to draw around their names on the garbage receipts every time they come in?”

"Go ahead. I'm ninety percent sure they're both into me, anyway."

Ienzo pulled his phone from his pocket and brandished it at Riku. "Are you willing to test that theory?"

"Make sure you write it down," Demyx chirped, blowing into the hole in his drink's lid. "If you write it down, it's science. I learned that in Biology this semester."

"I'll do more than that," Ienzo said, tapping on his phone screen with both hands. After his phone played a short 'whoosh' sound, he placed it face-down on the table. "Images sent. Now we wait for our results."

Riku scoffed, then balked, then turned beet-red. "You're an asshole," he hissed through his teeth.

"Relax. I was just kidding,” Ienzo said with a glint in his eye that Demyx barely caught.

"Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical." Riku scowled for a moment, but eventually softened into a smirk. "Whatever. Enjoy your Discord date, Casanova." He knocked on the table once before returning to the checkout counter.

"Discord date?" Demyx asked, taking a swig of his pumpkin spice latte. "I thought we were hanging out in real life."

"Let's not split hairs. We're about to see a show." Ienzo jutted his chin in the direction of the cafe's front door. As if on cue, Sora and Kairi burst through it like a duo on a mission.

“Oh Riiiiiiiiku!” they chorused in sing-song at the top of their lungs.

"Sometimes," Ienzo said, turning back to Demyx, "I like to watch the world burn."

“Yeah, I know. That’s actually kind of hot,” Demyx admitted, taking another sip of his latte. "Remind me not to piss you off again, though."

#Zemyx #Demyx #Ienzo #Zexion #Kingdom Hearts #fanfiction #Zemyx Day #Zemyx Day 2020

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therealcalicali · 5 years ago

Text

White Lies II

Matters of the Heart: After taking your little sister for a second wife, Ivar believes he has solved his problems. But when King Alfred arrives in Kattegat, the Gods decide to stir the waters.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Betrayal

Part I here

Part III here

Part IV here

Part V here

Part VI here

Finale here

Deleted Scene here

White Lies AU - Bitter Fruits here

The next few days were difficult at best.

As Eiriana was being settled into the estate, you were being neglected. Ivar gave his Coin Master instruction to let her spend to her hearts content. Naturally, this meant a steady stream of servants and merchants moving about the place.

Still, despite your sister being busy with her shopping, your so-called husband hardly found time to be around you. And you knew it was intentional. He knew very well that you had a great deal to say about his actions and even more questions.

However, when you ran across each other other, he always waved you off.

Stating that he had much to work on his hands.

This was an amusing lie. Because when he did manage to free himself from his Kingly duties, he always sent for Eiriana, not you. Even at evening meals; with each of you seated beside him; he hardly gazed in your direction. Sure he would fill you in on the happenings of Kattegat, but he never said anything of substance.

Ivar may have told you that you were still his first wife, despite taking a new bride. But it was clear for all to see that the writing was on the wall.

Eiriana was the apple of his eye and there was no point in denying it.

“Ivar.” You said, tempering your words since there were guests at the table. As you pushed rice about on your plate, you paused before looking at him. “If, it’s possible, may I please speak with you about something?”

“What?” He replied flatly, his eyes never leaving his food.

As he chewed, Eiriana glanced at him and then you. However, she said nothing. Perhaps picking up on Ivar’s body language and changed expression.

“I would like to ask it in private. The table is no place for us to talk, is it?”

Glaring at you, he popped a piece of roasted goat into his mouth.

In spite of his attempts to not look at you directly, you could see it. The guilt and the anger in his eyes.

Which emotion was stronger, was unclear.

However, you knew that you also had many emotions bottled up . Emotions that would require you to get away from the estate sooner than later. It was difficult being restricted to a home you now felt was not your own.

Sure, it was a massive estate, yet you now felt like a visitor.

The Thralls and other servants were constantly fawning over Eiriana. Treating her like a fragile egg despite all her tantrums and demands to be left alone.

As for you, it had become necessary to remind Thralls to even draw your bath. It was as if you had suddenly become invisible.

“Whatever it is you wish to say to me, Y/N, just say it.” Ivar insisted, his tense expression catching the attention of King Harald. Your husband’s dear friend continued eating as he watched the two of you. “I grow tired of your constant pestering. If you truly want to talk, make it now or keep it to yourself.”

You stared blankly at him a moment before shifting in your seat. Thankfully his tone hadn’t raised enough to draw anyone’s attention.

“I wish to spend time volunteering at the orphanages.” You began. “Perhaps I can even help collect herbs for the Seer, if he is need of such help.”

Ivar scoffed, before taking a sip of mead. Then finally looking in your direction, he raised a brow.

“For what?” He asked as if you had asked for the silliest thing in the world. “Do you see any other Queens scrounging about like commoners?”

“It’s not really as bad as you make it sound. I would be helping the less fortunate. Something Queens and Princesses are expected to do.”

“Oh? And what would you know of royal expectations? You were a farm-girl!”

“Don’t yell at my sister.”

You were stunned.

Eiriana had leaned over after hearing some of your conversation. Though his eyes cut to her, Ivar didn’t reprimand your sister. Instead, he simply looked back at you and said he would not allow such foolishness.

“If I may add my portion...” King Harald interrupted. He was seated quite close to your side so he had overheard all. Being a diplomatic man, he had chosen to intervene. “I think it’s honorable for Queen Y/N to serve the people. Think of how it will make you look in the eyes of the common man.”

Ivar mulled over his friends words - not really wanting to allow you any free reign. That wasn’t his only reason for the hesitation. He didn’t want people to think he no longer cared for you just because he had taken a second wife.

“Tell me, would you allow Astrid to do such things?”

“She does it already.” Harald replied with a hearty laugh. “She is esteemed as the Guardian Mother of the poor, widowed and orphaned. The people of our Kingdom adore her.”

In spite of his apprehensions, Ivar respected the his friend’s advise very much.

So with a nod, he gave his permission for you to do your work about Kattegat. Asking only that you stay away from tending to the sick for at least a year.

“I do not wish for any illness to enter this home and befall my son.” Ivar added. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, my King.”

With that finally out the way, you felt somewhat better. It was almost as if you could breathe again.

After mealtime, Ivar exited the Great Hall with you sister at his side. As you held your skirts to cross the courtyard, he eyed you before calling your name.

“Yes, my King?” You managed to say despite your heart breaking at the sight of them.

“I will come to your chamber tomorrow night.” He said in a strange manner, almost as if he was asking.

After that, there was an awkward silence between you.

Wanting to get some rest, you eventually cleared you throat and stated you would see him then. But just as you were about to take your leave, King Harald approached.

“Y/N, my dear, off to bed already?” He asked after noticing Ivar holding your sister’s hand. “The night is still young and I’m full of tales.”

“I know. But I haven’t been feeling myself lately. Perhaps I can be of better company tomorrow.”

“Wonderful.” Harald replied. “It should be quite the day. Especially since we are also welcoming King Alfred’s ships.”

You were surprised.

Typically you knew of the impending visits from important guests. But not this time.

“I forgot to tell you of the letter that arrived some time back.” Ivar interjected. “He is coming as part of our newfound treaty. We shall also visit Wessex in return, as a show of friendship.”

“Oh, that’s exciting.” Eiriana said with a gleeful smile. “I cannot wait to meet him and his wife.”

With a chuckle, Harald informed her that the young King was quite unmarried. Adding that he was also known to be very religious and immune to sins of the flesh.

“Oh, how strange.” She exclaimed. “Now, I really can’t wait to meet him.”

Ivar smiled at her before bidding you and King Harald a good evening. Unexpectedly, Eiriana embraced you the best she could with her large belly being in the way.

As they departed, you watched as she began talking Ivar’s head off about something or another. Whatever it was, he seemed entertained, giving her his undivided attention.

Turning to look at you, King Harald suddenly asked how you were faring.

“I.........I am well, thank you.”

“I do not mean, in health.” He said, correcting your assumption. “How are you coping with this situation?”

Your heart fluttered and you felt the sting of tears that now threatened to fall.

Fortunately, you managed to keep a brave face. Though you admitted being stunned at the revelation, you added that you were content knowing that Ivar would finally have what he wanted.

“It is good to have children, if one is so inclined.” Harald said with a twinkle in his eye. “But it is the Gods who choose the time. You are a good woman, Y/N/, that I know more than anything. Take heart, the they may still bless you yet.”

You nearly burst into tears.

His words were exactly what you needed to hear in that moment. Someone, saying something of comfort when you were at your lowest point emotionally.

After kissing the back of your hand, King Harald bid you a good evening.

The following day, you still didn’t feel too well.

Possibly due to all the stress of the week. From being in a new chamber to not eating properly, you were not having a great time. Still, you had to get up and start the day.

Not only did you have things to attend to for the estate, but royal guests were arriving.

As you waited for your bath to be drawn, you began hearing muffled sounds emanating from your former marital chamber. It wasn’t as if you had to strain to hear anything- after all it was just next door.

Apparently, Ivar had chosen to pass on his morning meetings to engage in activities with your sister. Eiriana moans were not too loud since the walls were quite thick.

However, it was audible enough for anyone to know they were having sexual relations.

Even the Thralls that were waiting to help you with your bath couldn’t help eyeing each other before staring at the floor.

It was simply humiliating.

Naturally, you understood the tradition of sister-wives. But it was not done in the manner in which Ivar had gone about it.

“Come, let us go to the bathing room.” You commanded the Thralls.

Despite the women stating that the water was likely not ready, you informed them that you didn’t care. Truthfully, you preferred to wait there than your bedchamber.

And it was a good decision too.

If you had to listen to Ivar making love to Eiriana a moment longer, you would have likely murdered everyone in the estate.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” King Harald exclaimed with a huge smile as he approached. “Someone decided to take my words to heart. Look at how beautiful you looks today. A vision.”

You couldn’t help giving him a shy smile, feeling encouraged by his compliment.

Though you had been somewhat neglecting your appearance since Ivar’s revelation, you had decided to get back to your old self. He could dote on Eiriana all he wanted, but it didn’t mean you had to walk around looking dejected.

“Do you think I overdid it?” You asked as Harald walked around you, taking in your entire outfit. “To greet the Christian King, I mean?”

“Not all.” He replied as he continued inspecting your deep purple gown and silver jewelry. “Trust me. One thing these foreign royals like is show of wealth and beauty. And you look ever the part, if I may be so bold.”

You let out a giggle, surprising yourself.

It was a genuine show of your mood getting somewhat better. Thanking King Harald, you took the arm he had extended. To your annoyance, he informed you that Ivar and Eiriana had already departed for the docks.

However, he would be honored to escort you.

“I am the one who is honored.” You replied. “Shall we?”

At the docks, you fixed your furs while King Harald waited patiently by your side. The covered wagon pulled off to await your return as you finally gazed at the massive crowd.

“It seems as if all the important people in the Kingdom are here.” You commented as you adjusted your skirts.

“That, they are. King Alfred is a very, very important man.”

With that, the two of you made your way to where your husband was awaiting his guest.

Once you reached where Ivar was standing with Eiriana, he glanced at you. His gaze faltering somewhat as he took note of how you were dressed. Though he never made mention of it, he too noticed that you had neglected your appearance. However, it seemed that you were now in a better frame of mind.

“You look very beautiful today, Y/N.” Ivar said almost in a whisper.

You gave him nod before looking away - refusing to hear any more of his empty words.

Despite this reaction, he reached over and pulled you closer to his side.

“Stand here beside me.” He said. “You are my first wife after all.

“Sister.” Eiriana practically sang. “You look very lovely as always. Who braided your hair?”

You wanted to tell her to leave you alone, but instead, you took a deep breath.

After telling her that a new Thrall named Sophia had done it, your sister asked if she too could use the woman. Shrugging, you stated that it was fine, after all she was Ivar’s wife as well.

His blue eyes instantly went to your face, almost as if you had insulted him.

Straightening his posture, Ivar instead chose to remain quiet and gaze over the ocean.

As you looked out as well, you saw that seven ships had already docked. Men busied about the row boats that were being boarded, preparing to bring them ashore.

“What do you think, Queen Y/N?” Harald asked as he stood to your other side. “Give me guesses of how you expect King Alfred to be.”

“Oh, a game?”

“Aye, something to pass the time until he shows.”

You smirked.

If anyone knew how to make you forget your troubles, it was the King Harald and his wife. Oh, how you missed Astrid. Now that Ivar was preoccupied with Eiriana, perhaps he would actually allow you to pay her a visit.

“I think he will be tall.” You began. “Also, he will likely have brown or raven locks since I hear that is common amongst his people.”

“Go on” Harald encouraged, smirking at the guesses you had made thus far.

You pondered, but then suddenly added that King Alfred would likely be pale.

One thing you knew was that Christians liked keeping their sicklers indoors. Which of course, was odd since fresh air was best for people with weak constitutions.

But they were a very strange people with even stranger beliefs.

“That I can attest to be true about his complexion.” Harald said with a hearty laugh. “Are you cheating me, Y/N?”

“I cannot lie.” You confessed with a satisfied grin. “I have heard it said that he was a bit............fragile of health.”

“I see. A little bird told you. In that case, no points for that one.”

You rolled your eyes but went back to thinking again.

As you and Harald busied yourself with your little game, Ivar was trying his best to keep Eiriana happy. Though she had both arms locked around his free one, she didn’t look pleased.

Your sister looked like an expensively dressed doll - wearing the same colors as Ivar had donned. Dark blue with black and silver embroidery and embellishments. Still, she was moody.

“How much longer must we stand here?” You heard her whine, distracting you from your game momentarily. “My feet are starting to hurt.”

“It won’t be long.” Ivar replied. “The boats are nearly at shore. See?”

“You said that an hour ago.” She replied, barely allowing him to finish his sentence. “Besides, I hate standing in the sun. It’s not good for the baby.”

Ivar’s jaw tensed.

It was protocol that wives be present to welcome guests. However, Eiriana was very heavy with child. Thus, he couldn’t expect her to stand around like any other woman would.

Motioning to some of his men, Ivar instructed that she be escorted back to the estate for rest. King Harald nearly scoffed aloud, however, he managed to contain himself.

Instead, he just shot you a look with his expressive eyes.

“That is only the start.” He whispered as the two of you watched your sister leave with an entourage to rival any great King.

You almost wanted to laugh at her expense. It seemed Eiriana now realized that being a royal was more than just pretty dresses and eating sweets in bed.

“Y/N, come closer, he is approaching.” Ivar said, his eyes fixated ahead of him.

Doing as he asked, you inched to his side.

However you made certain to clasp your hands before you in order not to touch him. Looking in the same direction as your husband,you finally saw him. A young man with looks that could rival Ivars any day.

Despite all you had had believed, King Alfred was striking.

From his long dark locks, to his fine features and full lips, he was a sight to behold. Despite his lean frame, he was actually imposing in the manner in which he carried himself.

His intense eyes scanned everything as he walked over.

Suddenly, Alfred’s gaze fell on you. He stared briefly, perhaps due to the rich color of your dress. But oddly enough, he did not smile nor did he make any other expression as finally took his place before your party.

“King Alfred, the sea has been kind and brought you safely.” Ivar said with a loud voice. “Welcome to Kattegat. We are very pleased to welcome you to our lands.”

As the two men shook hands, the applause and cheers rang out, signaling a successful docking of an honored guest. Again, the young King looked at you which inspired Ivar to make the formal introductions.

“This is my wife, Y/N.” He said as Alfred took your hand in his. “We were wed not long after I saw you at the meetings in Mercia.”

You expected a weak grasp. However, the young King’s appearance was misleading. After kissing you hand, he gave you a reserved smile.

“It is very nice to meet you, your Majesty.” You said, trying to say it just as you had rehearsed. “I hope that your time here will be much to your liking.”

“Indeed.” He replied, finally allowing you to hear his voice.

Turning to King Harald, Alfred and his advisors continued with the formalities.

In the evening; after everyone had rested properly; the welcome feast began.

As you were having your hair re-braided into a different style, Ivar burst into the chamber. He entered so abruptly, he nearly scared the Thralls half to death.

“Y/N, you must open the feast with me.” He said, his brow drawn in frustration.

“I’m confused.” You began, looking at him with an unreadable expression. “What of Eiriana? Are you not the one who said you had to walk with her always? Something about her condition requiring your attention.”

His jaw tensed before taking a seat nearby. Looking at you, he shook his head.

“She............refuses to come out of the chamber. Though she is dressed, she keeps saying that her clothes aren’t fitting properly.”

You looked away, not wanting to show your anger. Did he really expect sympathy or something of the sort?

“Well, that is to be expected of women who are with child. Her body has changed significantly I imagine. You must go and convince her to attend the feast.”

“No!” Ivar replied firmly. “I am a King not an errand boy! If Eiriana wishes to sulk, I shall let her. I will escort you into the Hall as usual.”

“Thank you, my King. I will do my best to please until my sister is ready to retake her position.”

His eyes met yours.

You could tell Ivar wanted to say something vindictive. However, he stopped himself.

Most likely because King Alfred was under your roof. So instead of being cruel in word, he rose to his feet. Making his way to where you were sat, Ivar drew close until the Thralls stepped aside.

“You are angry, Y/N. That I know.” He said, his rough hand caressing your cheek. “But my love for you has not changed. So please, let us stop this unnecessary war.”

You stood before you even realized it. Staring Ivar down despite being quite shorter, you were practically boiling with rage.

It was too much.

He had avoided the conversation for nearly two weeks, now had the gall to ask for the entire thing to be swept away. Without you even getting so much as an explanation?

No! You were not going to take it anymore.

“I am your wife!” You said, poking him in his chest. “You have embarrassed me in front of everyone we know. Not that I would ever stop you from taking a second wife.........that was always a thought in the back of my mind. But to entice my own sister?”

“Y/N, this is not the time.”

“No, it is the perfect time, Ivar. Or should I wait until you seed Eiriana again?” You asked as your temper got the best of you. “You hid this from me all while I was going through mourning from losing my third baby. While I was beside myself with grief, she was already with child! My own little sister!”

You tried to slap him, however, his reflexes were keen. Grabbing hold of your wrist, he kept his eyes on yours.

“Y/N, stop it!” He said almost too calmly. “If you keep exploding with fits of this nature, I will have the Healers provide herbs to sedate you.”

“Have them do whatever you wish! I will not keep silent about what you have done to me! I will say it no matter how you much you hate hearing of your actions. It is your shame Ivar, not mine!”

“My shame?” He scoffed. “Y/N, you cannot hold a child in your womb. Yet, you speak of shame?”

You winced at his insult.

Trying to wriggle free, you asked that he leave you alone. But Ivar persisted, keeping his grasp firm.

“Tell me? How many children was I supposed to watch the midwives bundles into tiny parcels to be buried? Four, seven...ten.......”

You shouted for him to stop with the counting, but he continued. After getting to two hundred, Ivar looked down at you with disdain.

“It would have been endless.” He said. “That is what the Volva in the woods told me. Yes, I went to seek the truth behind our problem.”

“You went to a witch to speak about me?” You asked, your eyes wide with shock.

“I did. And you know what she said? Hmmm? She told me that you can never birth anything! Not for me or any other man for that matter. You have been made barren by the Gods.”

Finally managing to wriggle free, your heart raced from his revelation.

How could Ivar constantly keep things from you? Taking a seat, you looked at the floor, unable to look at the Thralls or him again.

He exhaled loudly, wishing he had not divulged the Volva’s prophecy the way he had. Unfortunately, there was no way to take back words once they were uttered.

And since the damage was already done, Ivar hardening his heart.

Though he wanted to apologize, he had other matters to think of. Gazing at you, he asked that you hurry with the hair preparations.

“We must make our entrance before the feast can start.” Ivar added. “I do not wish to keep King Alfred waiting on his first night.”

As you sat beside Ivar in your lavish blue gown and gold jewelry, you kept your eyes on the performers.

All you wanted was for him to let go of your hand. However, he was likely trying to show everyone in attendance that things were fine between you. Despite all your issues with keeping a child in your womb, most of the people liked you a great deal.

After all, you were a Queen who rose from amongst their ranks.

Still, it didn’t mean that their affections wouldn’t soon fall to Eiriana. Peasants were simple minded. As long as the King told them who to love, they would oblige.

In fact, your sister already had many women in Kattegat treating her like a fertility Oracle.

Whenever they were in town, people would ask Ivar’s permission to rub her belly in hopes of conceiving. Naturally, he refused these requests. But he did permit the ones that came from the wealthiest of Kattegat’s citizens.

“They can build their cozy life, but I refuse to be part of it.” You thought to yourself as you sipped wine.

“Tell me, Queen Y/N..” King Alfred suddenly said as his intense gaze met yours. “Do you also play chess like your husband?”

“Actually, your Majesty, I do. He taught me.”

“That is good to hear. When I am in need of a challenger, I shall ask for you.”

You smiled, liking the gentleness of his demeanor and tone.

But the one thing you could not shake was his eyes. There was something in them that said there were allot of secrets. Much like Ivar, there were stories buried in Alfred’s blue pools.

Hopefully, you would hear some of if a friendship every blossomed.

As you were regaling Alfred and Harald about the things you had heard about North Umbria, the attendees on the floor level of the Great Hall began parting.

As you watched, none other than your sister made her grand entrance.

She was quite the vision of radiant beauty in her gold gown and adornments. Yet, you could feel Ivar become tense at the sight of her.

“Who is that woman?” King Alfred asked, his attention leaving Eiriana and falling on you.

“That.....................that is my sister.” You said nearly choking on the words. “And, Ivar’s other wife.”

His eyes nearly doubled in size.

Alfred looked in her direction again, his jaw open from shock.

“I see.” He managed to say.

Despite his calm response, the thought of such a thing quite foreign to his mind. Before you could change the subject, Eiriana made her way to the head table, forcing an Earl to depart from the seat on Ivar’s other side.

As she carefully took her seat, he glanced at King Alfred.

“My apologies, but I must make a late introduction. This is Eiriana , my second wife.

“I must apologize for not greeting you at the docks but I wasn’t feeling too well. But rest assured, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” She said with an eager smile. Though you hated to admit it, your sister had a childlike charm that put everyone at ease. Even when she was being irritating. “So, tell me, King Alfred, how was your journey?”

Ivar actually looked proud as he listened to the conversation.

He had expected some type of tantrum, but it appeared Eiriana was going to behave for the moment. As she chatted with King Alfred, you sat there looking straight ahead.

Before long, she had engaged nearly half the table in her talk of wanting to see Mercia and North Umbria. She kept making sure to keep King Harald in the mix as well.

Indeed your sister was being the life of the festivities.

It was clear. She had not only taken over your husband, but now, she meant to converse with anyone who found interest in you.

“Pardon me a moment.” You whispered to Ivar as you hastened to your feet.

Too distracted by his food, he nodded as you left the head table and walked down the small steps.

Were you ever glad to be a Queen.

Feeling quite lightheaded, you were relieved that everyone cleared a path as you made your way through the Great Hall. And thank the Gods too. You couldn’t have held it in any longer.

As soon as you had exited the double doors and walked a few feet, you began retching behind some bushes. Every last bit of food you had consumed that day vacated your body until nothing but bile remained.

With shaky legs and a convulsing stomach, you made your way to a bench in the courtyard.

“Please......” You prayed. “I cannot go through this and fall sick on top of it all.”

Later that evening; after all the festivities had concluded; Ivar entered your chamber.

You had not gone back to the Great Hall after vomiting. Instead, you sent word through a Thrall that you were unwell and retired to your bed. Sitting down beside you, he gazed at your sleeping form. Typically, he was so sure of what to say.

But now, he could only debate whether to wake you or not.

Finally, as he was about to shake you awake, the door to the chamber opened. In sashayed none other than Eiriana.

“Is she feeling better?” She asked, fiddling with her silk nightdress.

“What are you doing in here?” Ivar asked with the meanest tone he had ever used with her. “I told you already. Tonight is Y/N’s night.”

Eiriana looked at the floor, almost as if she was apologetic. However her words were anything but.

“But she is asleep already.” She protested. “Besides, you told me yourself that she is not feeling well. Why can’t you wait until she is better?”

“Because, I have deemed tonight her night!” He snapped. “Now do as I have asked. Get some rest and I will see you tomorrow.”

Your sister was utterly beside herself.

Never had Ivar refused her anything. From the moment he paid for her rites, he had given in to her every whim. But now, he refused something as simple as to sleep beside her?

“I will go!” She replied with a venomous bite. “And you know what? I don’t care if you ever return to our bed”

Ivar could only watch as she exited the chamber in a huff, practically slamming the door behind her. Sitting for a while in the dimness, he eventually shook you by the hip.

It took a while, but you stirred and sat up.

As your vision adjusted and you soon realized it was Ivar who had interrupted your slumber.

“What do you want?”

“Is that how you greet me now?” He asked. “I’m your husband, yet you act as if a prowler has entered your chamber.”

“Do not touch me!” You replied. “If that is why you are shirtless, then I am sorry to inform you I am unwell.”

Ivar’s nostrils flared, however, he didn’t reply with his usual bite.

Instead, he stated that he was aware of the fact. Adding that he had only come to watch over you.

“You are no Healer!”

“I know that!” He replied before running a hand over his braided hair. “At any rate, you said you had allot to say to me. So in the morning, I will listen.”

“No! I have nothing further to say about this situation. You said enough for both of us.”

After that, you laid down, turning your back to him.

Ever the stubborn one, Ivar slid into the bed beside you. Scooting so close that you could practically feel him breathing against your neck.

“I will not open my legs for you, Ivar!”

“Have I forced myself on top of you? No, I have not. So please, stop fighting with me.” He seethed, having enough of both you and Eiriana being at odds with him.

You closed your eyes, grateful that Ivar was not going to push the issue. However you did feel his arm fall over you as he positioned himself comfortably.

The next few days were strange.

Ivar became preoccupied with plans for an upcoming war against his Uncle Rollo. Since his brothers wanted their share of wealth, many letters kept arriving on a daily basis.

But even worse than war, was Eiriana.

Perhaps it was due to the Healers saying that she was only a month away from giving birth. Which of course was known to be the most uncomfortable of times for women.

Yet, it was something else. She behaved as if you had to coddle her just because Ivar was busy.

“Where are you going?” You heard her ask as you fixed the saddle on your horse.

Your father had taught all his daughters how to ride well. And since you were headed into town to give coin to the orphanages, you wanted to do it horseback.

“I’m going to visit the poor houses and orphanages.” You said without glancing in her direction. “Should you not be resting?”

Eiriana nodded but added that she was bored being alone in the chamber with no one to talk to. Rushing to your side, she grabbed hold of your arm tightly.

“Let me come along.” She begged, her eyes large in an attempt to garner sympathy. “I promise to help you with whatever your duties are. I can even cook.”

“No. Ivar would lose his temper and I do not wish to be chastised. You and I both know that he expects you to remain on the estate, and that is where you will remain.”

Your sister let go, angered that you would not help her find amusement.

Bit how did she expect you to take her along anyway? Even if you could do so, she was dressed as if she was attending a grand feast.

Truly, Eiriana loved fine clothes and jewelry and made sure to dress up every day. Even as Queen, you rarely wore your crown. But here she was with her golden one atop her head.

As she was going to beg you once more, you heard footsteps approach.

“Are you headed into town?” King Alfred asked, noting your steed.

“Why yes, your, Majesty.”

Clearing her throat, your sister eyed the handsome King, forcing him to take notice of her.

“Apologies.....Eiriana...” He said, confused at how to address her.

She may have been a second wife, but even Alfred knew your sister couldn’t share the same royal title.

After all, there was only one Queen.

“Are you going for a walk or something, King Alfred?” She asked, hoping to find something to do.

“Actually, I’m not.” He replied. “I wanted to take in Kattegat. And who better to show me and my escorts around than the Queen herself.”

Alfred looked at you, his blue eyes smiling but his face remaining stoic. More than delighted at the prospect of getting to know him better, you nodded.

“It would be my pleasure to give you a tour of my homeland.” You said with a smile.

Realizing that she was not going to be able to join, your sister frowned. She then bid you both a good afternoon before walking off toward the gardens.

“Are you scared, King Alfred?” You asked as the two of you reached the top of a meadow.

“Me?” He asked with an odd smirk. “I may be many things, Queen Y/N. But I most certainly am not afraid of a little challenge.”

“So, does that mean you will race me?”

He tried to hide his emerging smile but failed. Glancing at you, he asked what was on the line.

Thinking a moment, you remembered that his lands required a delegate from Kattegat. You may have not been the most politically savvy person, however, you knew the fine art of being diplomatic and gaining friends.

“Do you suppose that if I win......” You began as the King eyed you curiously. “it would be possible to request me as an Emissary? I know that it is rare for a woman to do so where you reside. However, it is common in our culture.”

Alfred seemed intrigued as he pondered your request, his eyes fixated over the ocean of flowers before you.

“I haven’t met many women like you.” He confessed still gazing over the meadow. “You work nearly as much as your servants and are capable of saddling your own steed. I would truly like to get to know more about you.”

“So, is that a yes?”

His finally gave you his attention, locking his eyes on yours. With a rare smile, he cocked his head slightly, his long hair blowing wildly in the wind

“Don’t you have to beat me first?” Alfred asked.

Without warning, he began riding for the treeline in the distance. He may have gotten a head-start, but as you kicked your steed into action, you knew you could overtake the King.

You spent the entire day with Alfred and his Advisors, tailed by guards from both kingdoms. Still, it was such a wonderful day, you nearly forgot all about your sister and Ivar.

The young King not only came along on your visits to the poor houses and orphanages, but he stood nearby as you read to the children. As you made your way home, he commented that he would start such things in his Wessex.

“There are some services, however, I hardly know how they are even operated.” He confessed as your convoy entered the gates of Ivar’s estate. “I truly couldn’t tell you if they are even of any use.”

“It is important to know such things, is it not?” You asked. “How else would you know how the poorest of your people is faring? Besides, my father always says that a nation is only as strong as it’s weakest members.”

Alfred smiled.

For the first time, he felt like he had met someone who could keep his interest. He knew many wise men but they could be a bore after a while. And most ladies of his court were dull and even dumber than the average peasant.

But you............you were different.

A Queen who didn’t have any airs and truly cared about her people. He knew he could learn allot from you and vice-versa.

“I cannot wait for you to come to Wessex.” He said as the two of you dismounted with the help of Thralls. “I think there is more to you than meets the eye.”

You couldn’t keep from smiling at his assertion. A foreign King actually found you interesting?

That was something to tell your siblings.

That evening, the Great Hall was not as lively as normal. Ivar had taken King Alfred, King Harald and some other dignitaries to an even at a wealthy Jarl’s estate.

Despite her condition, Eiriana was the one selected to accompany your husband. She had been ignoring Ivar ever since their argument in your chamber and thus, he was attempting to appease her.

As you sat eating with a few of the important guards and some of King Alfred’s clerics, your father entered. His eyes fell on you and instantly, you saw the regret.

“Apologies for coming uninvited, my Queen.” He began, however, you asked him to desist as you rose to your feet.

“Father, there is no need to stand there. Come.” You beckoned. Relief instantly washed over him as he made his way over and embrace you. “It is good to see you. How is mother?”

After stating that she and the rest of the family was fine, he asked to speak with you in private.

“Of course.”

After excusing yourself from you guests, you held your father’s arm as the two of you exited the Great Hall. Once outdoors, you walked to the gardens and sat down.

Almost immediately, his eyes began to water. With a trembling hand, he wiped the tears.

“I am sorry, Y/N.” He said, patting the back of your hand. “I don’t understand Eiriana at times. Perhaps all of this is my own doing. I spoiled her so much, I cannot advise her any longer.”

You sighed, knowing he was apologizing for what had occurred.

However, you didn’t feel it was his fault.

Ivar and your sister were adults. If they wanted to keep from hurting you, they very well could have. Resting your head against his shoulder, you took hold of your father's hand, studying the well worn palm.

“Father, it is no one’s doing but their own.” You began with a composed tone. “Ivar knew she was my little sister when he took her for a wife. Eiriana was also aware. I will not put their guilt on others.”

He nodded before asking how you had been faring.

Though you pretended to have accepted everything, your father knew better. He followed your words by stating that Ivar displeased the Gods.

“I don’t know, father. He tells me that he sought out a Volva that resides in the forest.”

“And?”

“The woman said.............she said that I am of no use to any man.” You swallowed hard before as you repeated the prophecy. “That I can never birth a child for any man, not just Ivar.”

Your father spat on the ground and cursed both Ivar and the Volva. Adding that he didn’t believe a word of it. With his arm around you, he went on to explain that not every prophecy was accurate.

They were only given to true Seers.

“Not every person that claims to have a gift is a genuine. That you must know.”

You agreed. However, you confessed that it didn’t really matter anymore. Ivar was finally getting his son and you feared things would only get worse.

“ Eiriana has already taking everything just being with child. Once the baby actually arrives, I will cease to exist.”

Your father shushed you. Promising that hope remained, even in the darkest of times.

“I know that the Gods always listen to my prayers. You will have children, that I believe.”

And it sounded wonderful.........his words.

But you felt the prophecy was true. So in spite of your inability to think beyond the Volva’s revelation, you allowed your father to think he had comforted you.

King Alfred’s three week visit practically flew by.

Whenever Ivar was busy with his war planning, the two of you spent a great deal of time playing chess and racing steeds. Through these activities, you got to know him rather well.

And it was a good thing too.

Despite your initial impression, Alfred was not as uptight or arrogant as you had thought. In fact, he was possessed a sarcastic whit that often left you laughing uncontrollably.

With his departure only a day off, the young King decided it was time to bring up the subject of Royal Emissaries. As he and Ivar sat in the courtyard after last meal, Alfred rested his elbows on the table.

“I must tell you, I am leaving with fond memories of this place. I may not understand all your ways, however......” He confessed. “You have hosted me well.”

“I’m very glad to hear that. It is a shame that my own visit will be delayed due to the birth of my son.”

Alfred raised a brow but kept listening.

“You see, Eiriana is due to deliver in a week or so. And as you know, I cannot leave her side so soon. Neither can she travel.” Ivar said as he leaned back in his seat.

Agreeing that family was of the upmost priority, Alfred stated that it actually made his request that more sensible.

“Regardless of reason, your inability to return the gesture would seem odd to many in my court.” He further explained. “However, what of Queen Y/N?”

Ivar’s gazed at the young King from the corner of his eyes.

He may have been preoccupied with your sister. However, the mere mention of your name by other men made his blood boil like nothing else.

“What of her?”

“The Emissary position.” Alfred replied, meeting Ivar’s gaze without wavering. “I think she would be a perfect representative. All the Clerics and Advisors I arrived with like her greatly. I am certain the people at court will too.”

As he was about to reply, Eiriana approached. Without even asking, she took a seat upon Ivar’s lap, much like a spoiled child.

“Why are you two drinking out here?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Is it not more comfortable indoors?”

“We are enjoying the warm weather.” Ivar replied, somewhat annoyed that she was not resting. As he caressed her rounded belly, he looked back at Alfred. “I don’t think Y/N would adjust well. After all, she has hardly traveled much.”

Alfred shrugged, stating it had no bearing on your ability to do so now.

“Truthfully, she is quite wise as well as charming.” He continued, matter-of-factly. “She would be of great help with the Kings of Northumbria, Gaul and East Anglia. Of course, the choice is yours.”

“Is there really a rush to decide such a thing?”

“I will only say this. You cannot expect these men to hold up diplomatic exchanges just because......” Alfred trailed off, glancing at your sister before looking back at Ivar.

He made his words clear without even speaking them.

If your husband thought the whole world was going to stop because of one baby, he was taking a huge gamble.

And it was the truth. Ivar had failed to designate Hvitserk as he had intended. Now, the flaxen-haired Ragnarsson was off raiding with some other Viking King.

“I’m pressed for time.”

“Ivar, you knew of this a year ago. How will you explain this to our allies?” Alfred said, pushing him to make a firm decision. “I do not see why you cannot allow Queen Y/N to represent your kingdom.”

“Y/N is traveling?” Eiriana asked.

Ivar explained that you were not going anywhere.

Adding that he and the King were merely discussing prospects to be the Emissary. But to his surprise, your sister insisted that you be selected.

“Why?” Ivar asked in confusion. “Do you not need her around? She can help you and also bond with the baby.”

“Ivar, I have all the help I need. Let Y/N go and see a new country. Besides, it would only depress her to be around when the baby arrives.”

Ivar’s eyes flickered with agreement.

Eiriana was right. If you were around when the baby was delivered, it could break your spirit. Especially with your history. Smiling at your sister, he gave her a look of approval before turning to Alfred.

“It’s agreed. I will make Y/N my Royal Emissary.” Ivar said with a pleased expression. “And furthermore, you may take her along on your departure.”

Alfred was taken aback.

He had not expected him to make you travel so soon. However, he graciously accepted the duty of being your escort to his kingdom.

With a pleased clap of his hands, Ivar looked the happiest man on earth. He would give you the break from Kattegat you desperately desired, all while having his son arrive into a peaceful home.

The journey aboard the ship was not an easy one.

You had departed Kattegat four days prior and still had another week and a half to go. But the travel time wouldn’t have been a problem if had not been hit with the worst bouts of seasickness ever.

You felt guilty for spending most of your time in bed, however, King Alfred was very understanding.

He not only sent his personal Healer to attend to your needs, but he stopped by briefly to tell you of his own issues with seafaring. Alfred assured you that if you traveled more, it would soon be a thing of the past.

Fortunately, the King’s ship was as comfortable as one could get away from land. You had your own private cabin and servants to tend your need. Which was good because that’s where you spent most of your time.

Sleeping off the seasickness.

Meanwhile back at Kattegat, thoughts of you were far from Ivar’s mind.

As he sat in a chair beside the bed where your sister lay, his heart was in his throat. He could only stare as your mother, three midwives and your eldest sister Kristina entered.

“Are you sure you wish to stay?” Your mother asked, knowing he already looked far too faint.

“Yes.....I want to be here.”

Sitting up, a sweaty Eiriana demanded more pillows.

She then glanced around the room, wondering why no one was heading her words. Knowing that women in labor often became delirious from pain, your elder sister demanded that she lay back down.

“You can’t tell me how to feel!” Eiriana countered. “You..........have never had a baby before! My back................and everything else hurts.”

Ivar nervously ran both hands over his head.

After looking at her a moment, his eyes went back at the floor. It was then he suddenly wished he had not allowed you to leave Kattegat. He was never good at personal dilemmas.

Thankfully, you had always been his emotional support. Always knowing the right things to say when something went wrong. But now, he had to face this alone.

And he was terrified.

Strange for a man who enjoyed bloody battles and never flinched at the thought of people out for his head. Yet, mere family issues could send him off the deep end.

“Ivar.........come and.............” Eiriana demanded between contractions of pain. “sit beside........me.”

“No! He would only be in the way.” Kristina snapped, tired of her incessant talking. “Now lay down and focus on breathing through the pain.”

Though she laid down, your little sister did so with curses and groans.

Which naturally made Ivar even more tense. Having felt personally slighted by what had been done to you, Kristina walked to him.

“I hope you can now see that it is not easy.” She said in a gentle but firm manner. “Though the delivery is difficult, just making it through the nine months is much harder. I........I hope this will remain in your thoughts.”

With that, she walked away to run the clean cloths through hot water.

Ivar could only look out the window as the noise of the chamber echoed in his ears. You had gone through similar pains three times Each time producing nothing but a blood mess for the midwives to bury.

Could it be that he had been too hasty with the Volva’s prophecy?

No, he thought. The woman spoke truthfully. And your Eiriana’s ability to hold his seed proved that you were indeed the problem.

Looking back at the bed, he could hardly see her any longer. The entire view of the bed was blocked by the women. Ivar could however hear your sister struggling to push.

She sounded quite tired, not her usual bossy tone of voice.

“I cannot!” Eiriana exclaimed.

To which your mother replied that she was nearly done.

“Two more pushes, and he will be out. Just give us two more strong ones.” The elder midwife coaxed.

Ivar shut his eyes tightly, his breathing nearly halted. It seemed like everything went silent.......but then.

It finally came.

The sound he had been waiting to hear. The strong cry of a newly delivered baby. Within second, the cries were drowned out by the women happily going about.

“What is it?” Ivar asked, his voice almost inaudible.

“It’s a boy.” Your mother announced with tears in her eyes. “A beautiful little boy with lots of hair.”

“What about his------”

“Perfect. Everything on his little body is as it should be.” She added.

Ivar could hardly make his way to the bed.

It took the assistance of the beefier of the midwives to guide him to Eiriana’s side. Taking a seat, he looked at his son who was laid across her chest.

“I cannot believe it.’ He whispered against your sister’s ear. She likely heard none of what was being said since she was halfway asleep. “You have made me the happiest man in the world.”

With shaky hands, Ivar gently picked up the newborn, causing him to cry for a moment. As the women looked on, he proceeded with the birth rites.

Unlike everyone else, your sister Kristina felt mixed emotions.

Though she was happy to have a nephew, she still detested what had been done to you. She blamed not only Ivar, but Eiriana as well. She hoped that wherever you were, the Gods were watching over you.

This recent development would be too much for anyone to handle. No matter how strong.

As soon as the ship arrived in Wessex, everyone was relieved to see dry land. After settling in the castle, the entire envoy spent almost three days recuperating from the arduous journey.

However, you were not as fortunate. In fact, you were still bedridden when Alfred called on you on the fourth day.

Entering your chamber, he gazed at you. Though you were freshly bathed and dressed, Alfred could see that you were still far too sick. Which concerned him greatly because you should have shaken the seasickness by now.

“Y/N, how do you fare today?”

You gave him a weak smile, trying your best to seem upbeat. However, you were unable to hide your fear.

Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, he looked to one of the Handmaidens.

“Fetch, the court Maesters.” Alfred commanded. “Tell them that the visiting Queen is in need of them immediately.”

The woman curtsied and left to do his bidding straightway. Satisfied, he looked at you again.

“I think I may be dying.” You confessed weakly. “I feel so utterly drained.”

Dismissing your words, Alfred insisted you likely had one of the minor illnesses that often plagued large kingdoms. Adding that he himself had been sick numerous times over the years.

“Besides, who would I play chess against if you were to leave me so soon?”

Realizing what he had said, Alfred quickly corrected, “me” to “us”. His cheeks becoming flushed by the slip-up.

You giggled in your mind, thinking him adorable for his shyness. As you were about to speak, he stated that a letter had arrived from Kattegat.

“You can always read it later.” Alfred suggested as he motioned to one of the servants who had entered with him.

In your heart, you knew exactly what the letter was about. Still, you took it from the man’s hand.

Alfred watched with concern as you nervously broke the seal. It was from Ivar, that you knew by the crow’s skull. With your hands practically shaking, you began reading.

And it was even worse than expected.

As you read the last line, you couldn’t help it. After all you the ill-treatment you had endured, it was the ending of the letter that caused you to burst into tears.

“Forgive me for being an awful guest.” You said, your voice trembling and your hands covering your face. “May I be alone?”

Without thinking, Alfred was instantly beside you.

When he moved your hands away from your face, you looked down at the blanket. But though you begged him to go and leave you to your tears, he refused.

Instead, Alfred embraced you, holding you firmly against his chest. He didn’t force you to say a word. After all, it took no mystic powers to know that at least one of the main points had to do with your sister giving birth.

“He said.............that.....” You could hardly get the words out. “Ivar says there is no need for me to rush home. That is how he ended the letter.”

“If that is how he feels, then I am most fortunate.”

You couldn’t help feeling utterly dejected, despite Alfred’s kind reply.

Ivar had the nerve to not only announce he was the father of a healthy boy. But added some random information about the new longhouse being built. All before ending the entire thing by stating you need not return soon.

That was cruel, even for Ivar.

As Alfred was still comforting you, the Maesters arrived. The three men glanced at you and whispered amongst each other. After asking all the male servants to exit, they approached the bed.

“See that you take good care of the Queen.” Alfred said as he got to his feet. “If anything happens to her, I shall hold you all responsible.”

With that, he departed the chamber.

After you had been thoroughly examined, the Maesters left you resting in your chamber. Of course they gave you something to help with your sleeplessness.

For that you were grateful.

You took evening meal in your chamber, kept company by the six Handmaidens the court had assigned you.

Once you were done, you actually felt good enough to have a second bath. You actually used the time to luxuriate more than anything else. After getting dressed, you were about to go for an evening stroll when someone knocked on the chamber door.

Giddy with curiosity, one of the Handmaidens answered. There stood King Alfred, looking quite dashing in his formal clothing.

“Why are you so dressed up?” You asked. “Are all the eligible Princesses at the castle?”

His gaze faltered as he entered, his hands clasped before him. When he did not speak for a long while, you couldn’t take the suspense.

“What is it?”

“I’m curious.” Alfred replied, looking at you with a peculiar expression. “Do you realize you are standing on your own two feet right now?

You laughed at his jest.

It was true. Only earlier in the day, you barely had the energy to sit up in bed. Now, you were dressed and ready to take fresh air.

“I nearly forgot myself. Thank you for having those Maesters come to my aid. Whatever they gave me, it truly worked. I feel so much better.”

Alfred smiled, his face so close to yours, your heartbeat went erratic.

You gazed at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. The King may have been your friend but you sensed there was a tension between you.

“Come, Y/N.”

Taking you by the hand, Alfred led you onto the great balcony of your chamber. Now out of earshot of the servants, he looked at you again.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked before pulling out a parchment from his vesting pocket.

You looked at it before shrugging and asking if it was a letter. With a nod, Alfred added that he would hand it over if you answered one burning question.

“Alright.” You said. “I’m listening.”

“Why did Ivar take your sister as a wife?”

The question nearly made you lose your smile. However, you knew there was no malice intended. In fact, Alfred had commented many times that he had found the entire situation quite bizarre.

“Well, if I must tell you, I shall start from the beginning.” You replied.

The two of you took a seat on the long bench and you regaled him with the entire tale.

“I was deeply hurt. Actually, I still am.” You confessed as you played with the fabric of your skirts. “It would have been kinder to have divorced me first. But what can I say? The Volva was right about my bareness. The fact that Ivar is now a father through Eiriana is proof of that fact.”

Alfred stared at you for a long while.

You weren’t sure if it was pity, confusion or shock. But eventually, he handed you the parchment. Oddly enough, as you tried to read it, you couldn’t make any sense of what was written.

“What is this? Another dialect of your people?”

“It’s Latin.” Alfred replied. “The Maesters only do their work in that language.”

Realizing that it had to do with your examination, you asked him what they had concluded.

“Y/N.......” Alfred said with a shake of the head - his serious expression turning into a smile. “You are utterly wrong! So is Ivar and that so-called Mystic you spoke of.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, however his expression kept you calm.

“The Maesters say you are with child.” He said. “Around three months along. If not a little more.”

You could hardly breathe as you studied Alfred's expression - wondering if there was any jest in him.

But what were you thinking? He never played with matters. The King only made dry observations about everyday life. With trembling hands, you allowed him to read the Latin aloud, translating each word for you.

You didn’t know whether to be happy or worried. After all, your history was quite dubious.

“Alfred, please do not tell anyone. I beg of you.”

Taking both your hands in his, he reassured you that he would do as you wished.

“I am very afraid.” You confessed. “I do not wish to............”

“Don’t say it.” He said, putting a finger to your lips. “My people believe that negative words can invoke bad spirits. For that reason, let us speak only good things over this unborn child.”

You nodded, but then panic set in again.

“I don’t know if Ivar will send me coin in a timely manner now. He will be preoccupied with.........his family life. And what of------”

“Y/N” Alfred interrupted, cupping your face with both hands. “Who am I?”

“Pardon?”

He couldn’t help smiling, amused by your panicked expression. Answering the question for you himself, Alfred reminded you that he was the second wealthiest leader next to King Charles the Bald of Italy, West Francia and the Carolingian.

“Do you suppose I would let you go without anything?”

“I.......suppose not.” You replied with hesitation. “But I will not take advantage. I will pay back anything spent on my upkeep. In fact, I can even work it off.”

Alfred dropped his head, trying to prevent you from seeing his laughter.

Annoyed, you moved his long hair out of the way, causing him to laugh even more. You couldn’t believe your eyes. The somber King Alfred, laughing?

Pretending to be irritated, you left him on the balcony.

After sitting on the bed, you laid back, gazing the artwork on the ceiling. It didn’t take long for Alfred to join you. Laying on his back as well, he asked if you appreciated the Arts.

You confessed that didn’t really know what it entailed, however, you liked what you had seen thus far. Some of the servants in the room smirked to themselves.

Especially the Handmaidens.

They had never seen their King so relaxed as long as they had known him. As you described and pointed to the mural, Alfred reached out and took you by the hand.

“You have callouses.” He remarked, caressing your palm gently.

“My parents are farmers, Alfred. I told you this.”

“Y/N, these are not from the past. These are recent.” He countered. “You will not work again.”

You sat up and stated that you enjoyed working. After telling you to calm yourself, Alfred clarified that he had something in mind that was better than working with your hands.

Something that would put your great mind to use.

“It will also give you the ability to do what you seem to enjoy.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“Maester of Charities.” Alfred replied. “I want you to oversee the formation of services for the poor, widowed and orphaned.”

You felt hopeful for the first time in a long while. If Wessex was to be home for the foreseeable future, you would focus on those less fortunate.

That would be your escape from whatever was occurring in Kattegat.

It had been four long months since you had left Kattegat.

At this point, you had settled into the routine of being the Maester of Charities. At first, the Clerics and Councilmen assigned to your council resisted your authority. However, those who had met you during their stay in Kattegat soon convinced them of your good intentions.

And despite not hearing from Ivar after a fourth letter, you had great reason to be elated.

You made it to your seventh month!

There was no denying you were very much with child. The Maesters reassured that you were far along enough to cease worrying. And even better, the child was strong and moved around considerably.

In your heart, you felt your good fortune was all thanks to King Alfred.

Not long after you discovered you were with child, he left Prince Aethelred in charge and took you on a pilgrimage to an ancient church in West Francia. Though the Abbot was made ware of your Heathen heritage, he felt compelled to have his Monks bless you.

After that journey, your mind rested easier.

In the brightness of the early afternoon sun, you sat underneath a canopy busily practicing Latin. Though it was a difficult language to grasp, Alfred felt it would be of benefit.

“My Queen.” An excited Handmaiden said as she rushed over. The others were already seated nearby, reading and sewing. “King Alfred says there are foreigners here to see you.”

Your eyes left your books and papers. Putting the quill back into the inkwell, you asked if she knew who it was.

“No. However, he said you would be happy to see them.”

As you tried to get to your feet, one of the guards rushed over and helped you.

“Careful there, you Majesty.” He said with a warm smile. “Can’t have the King or Prince Aethelred hearing that you hurt yourself.”

You thanked him, causing him to smile even more.

Truly, the people of Wessex had come to adore you. Not just because of your work as the Maester of Charities, but because of your actions.

Were they ever shocked to see a Queen, heavily with child toiling dirt by hand. But you had to do it. After all, how else would you teach the farmers the tilling techniques of the Heathen.

Your lands were far harsher on crops, thus you knew you advice would be very useful.

After that, it didn’t take long for word to travel that the foreign Queen was not only kind, but was not above actual work. This earned you the moniker of ‘The Lady of Hearts.’

“Are you excited, your Majesty?” One of the Handmaidens asked as they followed you into the east wing of the castle.

“I am. But I can’t even begin to guess who could be awaiting me.”

You were led to the Great Hall by a page whilst your Handmaidens followed closely. There by the double doors, you spotted the King’s brother.

“Aetherlred, how are you? When did you return from the Salisbury district?”

After giving you a kiss on the cheek, the Prince informed you that he had returned that morning. After briefly telling you of his stay, he took you by the arm and walked to one of the massive windows.

“I suppose you know there are visitors awaiting you in the Hall.”

You nodded, but confessed that you weren’t told who they were. After admitting that he knew their identities already, Aethelred asked if you wanted him to tell you.

“I would prefer to know before I enter.” You admitted. “I’ve never been fond of surprises.”

“Neither have I.” He said in agreement. “The ships docked here were on their return voyage from Francia. Does that hold any meaning to you?”

You shook your head, still confused as to the identity of the visitors.

Leaning against a pillar, Aethelred added that the main ships belonged to Ivar, Bjorn and Ubbe.

“Ivar?” You repeated as if the name was foreign to your mind. “Here?”

Aethelred studied your expression before asking if they should be sent away.

“I can’t do that.” You said.

“Of course you can. As our ward and Maester, you can do as you please. You don’t have to hold audience with anyone that will upset you.”

You thanked him but said you didn’t wish to hide.

One thing you regretted was your habit of avoiding things that upset you. It was the easy thing to do. However, it never resolved any of the problems.

“I will see my in-laws. After all, they have done nothing to me..”

“And what of your husband?”

You looked at Aethelred with confidence.

“I will see Ivar as well.”

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dancerlittle006 · 5 years ago

Text

Extra Extra Read All About It!

First things first, I don’t own anything related to Disney or Newsies. Second of all, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve posted anything on this site but I’ve been writing for other fandoms – Jonas Brothers & One Direction! I’ve been watching and listening to Newsies since the beginning of quarantine and this was just something I threw together. Not sure if I will continue to write in the Newsies fandom but we’ll see where this goes!

June 1901

The sun hit his face as he waited at the circulation gate. He had been deep in thought, trying to figure out what he did. His sister had stopped coming around the lodge house and he couldn’t figure out what he or one of the other newsies had done to make her stay away. Jack had still been coming around, goofing off with his boys and even his brother had been staying quiet around him.

“Papes for the newsies. Line up boy.” Came the call from Weisel. Race watched his brothers line up, grabbing their papes.

The Newsies scattered, reading the headlines, trying to figure out what white lies they would be telling that day. The headline stunk again, making it another difficult day to sell.

“Yous alright?” His shoulder was nudged, causing him to stumble forward. “Yous head up in them clouds.”

Race’s eyes went wide, looking over his shoulder. Albert was standing there with concerned eyes, looking at his best friend. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okays?”

“I’ve got things on my mind.” He shrugged. “Ivs got to figure it out first.”

Albert nodded, putting a hand on Race’s shoulder. “Is here if you need anything.”

Nodding, he went to the gate to grab his papes before heading towards the racetrack. His normal customers made small talk while he sold the paper. They asked him about the headlines before handing over the coins. Before he knew it, the bells were ringing in the noon hour just as he sold his last one.

Adjusting his hat and his cigar, he shuffled his feet away from the racetrack. Inside his mind, he didn’t realize his feet had led him directly to Jack and Katherine’s brownstone. Taking a seat on the stairs, he took off his cap and messed with his hair.

He heard the familiar clanking of the typewriter as Kat typed up her latest article. He sighed, dragging himself to his feet. Walking slowly up the stairs, he raised his hand to knock, but quickly lowered it. He did it again twice before a voice captured his attention. “Doors opened, Race. Come on in.”

He jumped hearing her voice. Seeing her standing at the window grinning, he pushed a smile to his face before opening the door. Hesitating, he paused before walking in.

“Didn’t know you were coming over today.” She smirked, his head snapping up to look at her.

Shutting the door behind him, the smile fell from his face. He shrugged his shoulders half-hardheartedly. “Really didn’t expect to come here either. Feet just had a mind of their own.”

“You okay?”

She motioned him to follow her into the living room and sit on the sofa. He shuffled his feet before collapsing onto the brown sofa her parents had gotten her and Jack as a wedding gift. He sighed loudly. “Is got stuff on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Kat pulled her feet under her on the sofa, glancing in concern at her younger brother. “How was selling today?”

“It wa’ fine.” Worry crossed his face. She got up from her place and sat next to him, pulling him into a half hug.

Rubbing his back, she sighed. “You’re worrying me Race. What’s wrong?”

“Did I do something to make yous mad?” He said, in such a low whisper that she had a hard time hearing what he had said.

Katherine’s hand stilled on his back. She heard what he had said but her mind was slow to catch up. “Say that again.”

“Did I do somethings to make yous mad? You haven’t been to the lodge house in weeks and every time I ask Jack what’s up, he makes up some lame excuse. He’s not the best liar in the city, Kat.” Race spat out, his chest heavily with emotion. “So Is asking, did I do something to make you angry?”

Katherine’s face softened at his heartbroken question. Ever since helping with the strike, she had more or less adopted the Newsies as her brothers. Since Race was so close with Jack, it was no surprise that she also became really close with the young man, to the point that she called him her brother.

“No, Race you didn’t do anything to make me mad.” She started, pausing to figure out how she would tell him. “Jack and I got some news.”

Race’s eyes went wide. “Yous okay?”

“Oh yea, everything’s okay.” She waved him off. “But you can’t tell your brother that I told you this . . . he has this whole thing planned out to tell you boys.”

Race held his breath. Jack hadn’t indicated anything was wrong but it had been a day since he saw his older brother. But he tried to slow his mind down of running through the worst case scenarios that could be happening with his older brother and sister.

“You’re going to be an uncle, Race.” Those words pulled him out of his own little world. His jaw dropped, his mind a little late to what he was hearing.

“A uncle?” He repeated before a grin split his lips. “Yous and Jack going to has a baby?”

Katherine nodded, putting her hands over her stomach. “Out of all the boys, I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret around you, since we’re so close, which is why I haven’t been to the house in a few weeks. Jack has a big thing planned out in a couple of weeks, but I knew I couldn’t keep it from you.”

“Plums, you’re not joking, right?” Race was a frequent jokester, and often recruited Katherine to plot and plan.

Tears were at her eyes as she shook her head. “Never, I would never joke about this.”

He stood, pulling her up from her chair before pulling her into a tight hug. “Plums, congratulations. Yous going to be a great mum.”

“Thank you Race. I’m sorry I made you worry. That was never my intention - I just knew that the moment I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to keep the news in.” She hugged him back.

Before he could wave off her apology, the door to the small apartment opened, with a whistling tune and heavy footsteps. Katherine simply shook her head, keeping an eye on Race, as Jack slipped his shoes off and soon was in the entryway to the kitchen. As soon as he saw Race near his wife, his entire body was on edge.

“Who’s hurt? What happened?” Jack immediately asked, stalking across the kitchen to two of the most important people in his life.

Race immediately shook his head. “All is good. Is just visiting Plums.”

Jack took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. In the middle of calming down, he gave his wife a look. “You told him . . . Plumber!”

“It’s Kelly, Jack and has been for almost a year.” She gave him a knowing look. “And also, I told him nothin’.”

Race snorted at the whine that came out of his brother’s mouth.

“Uh huh . . . sure you didn’t.” Jack pointed his finger between his best friend and his wife. “I know you both too well . . . Race looks like he swallowed the canary and you look like you wanna pass out.” A grin settled on his lips. “What do you think, Uncle Race?”

A sigh slipped between Race’s lips. “I think daddy and mummy are proper names for you both. Congratulations! The boys are going to be ova the moon for ya. Is this why yous been quiet around me when you’re at the house?”

“You can’t tell them anything and yes. I knew if yous called me out on it, I wouldn’t be able to not tell you.” Jack’s eyes went wide. “I have it planned out and everything.”

Race nodded, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “And how long do I have to keep this secret?”

Jack shrugged, looking over at Katherine. “Well . . . we haven’t really decided when we’re going to let the rest of the boys in on the secret. But you cannot tell anyone, not even Canlon or DaSilva.”

Race knew that not telling his boyfriend and best friend were going to be difficult. “Then you betta hurry up and tell the fellas.”

Three Days Later

A heat wave had descended down on New York City, causing all of the Newsies to sell their papes in a hurry before descending on Jacobi’s for a glass of refreshing water. Race looked around at the fellas who had joined him. Albert and Les were all laughing at what looked like Davey's expense. Specs, Finch, and Elmer had their heads together, discussing something important by the serious looks on their faces. Romeo had just taken a gulp of water before spraying it out all over Crutchie, causing the latter to cuff Romeo over the head.

The heavy closing of the door caught Race’s attention, a grin sliding across his face. “Look what the cat drug in . . . hey fellas, it’s the newlyweds.”

A rousing, hearty hello was thrown in Kat and Jack’s direction as they pulled up two chairs to join the crew. Jacobi brought over two glasses of water and refills for the boys before leavin’ them to their business.

“So why do we have the pleasure of seeing your mugs? Thought yous were going to be busy this week?” Albert looked at the married couple suspiciously.

Jack traded a glance with Kat and Race. He pulled a newspaper from his back pocket, nervously twisting it in his hands.

The boys had grown quiet, watching their leader with worried eyes. They hadn’t seen him this nervous since the strike happened. “Jack, yous okay?”

He lifted his head, looking over at Les’ concerned face. “I will be but I’ve got some news to share with yous.”

Race fought to keep the grin from his face at how Jack was milking his and making his brothers worry. Taking a deep breath, Race looked at his older brother. “Just tell us already . . . yous making the boys worried.”

“We got an early print of Plum’s new article.” Jack fumbled with the paper, pulling his eyes up to look at his boys. “Who wants to be the first to read it?”

The noise level went up - Katherine’s articles made it easy to sell papes - so every Newsies at the restaurant was eager to read it. Jack looked at his wife with a grin. “Who do you think should read it first?”

“Give it to Albert.” Kat’s eyes sparkled with the secret and nodded to the redhead.

Jack nodded, standing to walk over to Al. “Yous got to read it to the class so everyone can enjoy Kat’s words.”

The Newsies watched Albert’s eyes scan the paper, jaw dropped, before jumping over to Jack. “Yous serious?”

Laughing, Race, Kat, and Jack couldn’t hold it in anymore. Jack nodded, hugging Albert back. “How about you share it with thes rest of them?”

Albert went to open his mouth several times before looking at Jack. Picking up the pape, he held it in front of him, clearing his throat. “ Extra! Extra! Read all about it . . . . Jack and Plums are going to be parents.”

It was silent, until all hell broke loose amongst the Newsies. Eight Newsies clamored to get to either Kat or Jack to offer their congratulations. Race stood back, took in the sight and committed that to his mind to never forget.

“Wait!” Romeo spoke up, causing silence to hush over to the boys. “How come Race looks like he already knew? Jackie you keepin’ secrets from us?”

Race just grinned. “Just taking it alls in.”

Raising a glass of water, he motioned to the rest of the Newsies. “To the brother/dad wes always had to beings a real dad! Congratulations, Jackie and Plums.”

The Newsies celebrated the wonderful news of their growing family by toasting with water and having a festive feast at Jacobi’s.

November 1901

Jack had stopped by the lodge house to let the Newsies know the baby had arrived late on November 16 at 3am. He was sly with details but promised his brothers they would be able to visit soon after giving them a few days of adjusting to being a family of three.

Jack had seeked Race out at his normal selling spot and mentioned bringing some of the boys after selling hours. The boys had pooled some of their earnings to buy a bottle of wine for Plums, after Romeo mentioned they couldn’t show up empty handed.

Race had waited on the steps of the lodge house, waiting on the few he had mentioned Jack’s request to. Race had mentioned the event to Romeo, Albert, Specs, Crutchie, Finch, Elmer, Davey and Les so as soon as they had arrived, they set off for Jack’s.

Race kicked a pebble as the rambunctious group weaved their way through the streets of Manhattan. The streets were still bustling with people not paying attention to the ragtag team of young men. Soon, Albert had stopped the group at the familiar brownstone, causing a hush to settle on the group.

Jack was sitting on the brownstone with a giant smile on his face. “Hi boys . . . been waiting forever for yas to shows up.”

“Don’t ya have more important things to be worried about?” Race grinned, hopping up the stairs to hug his brother. “Doncha have a new baby to look afta?”

Jack nodded hello to the rest of his brothers, opening the door to the brownstone letting the Newsies in. “Can’t help that Is excited for you to meet the baby.”

Jack continued into the house, while the Newsies stopped. Kat was in a rocking chair in the living room with a bundle of blankets in her arms. Her face lit up at her brothers. “Come, come. Meet your niece.”

“Niece?” The boys echoed back, looking between Jack and Plums. “Yous have a daughter, Jack?”

Jack tilted his head. “Didn’t Is tell you that?”

“No, you told us the babys here, arrived on the 16th at 3 in the morning. Yous gave no additional details.” Albert supplied, shaking his head at the new dad. “Yous left us hanging.”

Kat laughed, rolling her eyes at her husband. “You poor boys. Well come here, meet your niece. Who wants to hold her first?”

Albert and Romeo playfully fought over who would be the first to hold her while the rest of the Newsies gave Jack and Kat hugs and admired the new baby from afar. Kat caught Race’s eyes and grinned. “Well Uncle Race, wants to hold your niece?”

Race immediately felt himself shaking his head, but knew he wanted to hold the baby and keep her safe. “Plums . . . Is never held a baby before.”

She shook her head. “Come here. Sit down, and hold your arms like so.” She demonstrated and as soon as his arms were stable, a yellow bundle was put into his arms.

Race felt himself relax as his eyes swept over the baby. Her lips were puckered and eyes closed tightly as she slept peacefully. “Wow Jackie, Plums, she’s gorgeous. What’s her name?”

“Samantha Anne Kelly.” Kat knelt next to the rocking chair, looking at Race. “What do you think Uncle Race?”

“She’s perfect.” He used his free hand to bat away tears that had escaped. “She’s just perfect. Congrats Plums. Yous a mom.”

The rest of the evening was passing the baby around and cooing at how perfect, sweet, and precious baby Samantha was. And Race was a very attentive uncle and vowed to himself to always protect that little girl from harm.

#Newsies #Fan Fiction #Fan Fic #Writing #Dancerlittle006 #the many adventures of sammi & race

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profitcord71 · 4 years ago

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Will Writing - Exactly How To Select A Professional Firm

Legalzoom Online Will Evaluation

Content

If You Don'T Wish To Utilize A Solicitor

Indication Your Will In Front Of Witnesses.

To Establish Who Will Take Care Of Your Minor Kid

Key Records To Have Along With Your Last Will And Testament.

When Should You Obtain Legal Advice To Prepare Your Will?

Making Older Individuals'S Voices Heard.

Full An Estate Tax Type.

Utilizing A Lawyer To Compose Your Will

What Is Probate?

What To Expect From Your Solicitor

If You Don'T Intend To Use A Solicitor

You might think that the generated paper shows your desires, however you would not recognize if there was a much better method due to the fact that you have no solicitor leading you. Further, if points fail, customers won't necessarily have the ability to complain to the Lawful Ombudsman or any one of the various other regulators if they depend on membership of the SWW or IPWW alone. Whilst the SWW as well as IPWW have a grievances service, they have no real comparable power to claim, the Legal Ombudsman, SRA, CILEX or ACTION. By contrast, a qualified lawyer such as a Solicitor or Chartered Legal Executive should follow a stringent specialist Standard procedure and also can be sanctioned both by the Ombudsman and also by their corresponding Regulatory authorities.

You can learn about the recommended minimum contribution quantity, and details of lawyers that can assist on the Will Aid website. Every November, participating solicitors will create a basic will at no cost in return for a contribution to Will Help. Prior to making a decision on who to make use of, it's constantly suggested to get in touch with a couple of neighborhood solicitors to discover just how much they bill. The fees for creating a will vary between lawyers and also depend on the intricacy of the will. However, will-writing firms are not controlled by the Legislation Culture so there are couple of safeguards if things go wrong.

The requirements for a valid will are much less strict for service employees on active service. If somebody makes a will yet it is not legitimately valid, on their death their estate will be shared out under particular rules, not according to the dreams shared in the will. They will need to accumulate with each other all the possessions of the estate, deal with all the documentation and also pay all the financial obligations, taxes, funeral service and also administration expenses out of money in the estate. Executors are the people who will be accountable for carrying out your wishes and for figuring out the estate.

Possibly you're not sure of your dreams-- or don't know what the best alternatives to take may be to safeguard your estate for the future generation. When this occurs a person's assets are dispersed according to a collection of guidelines called Intestacy Rules. This is a set legal order which decides where your money goes-- and the outcome might not mirror your desires. Many individuals recognize exactly how crucial it is to have a will in position-- yet an alarming number don't yet have one in place, as well as haven't place their desires down in writing. Mostly individuals put it off since they see it as something to deal with when they are older, or they know they require to sort it out however then forget it.

Who should keep the original Will UK?

1. Leave it with a solicitor. If a solicitor writes your will, they will usually store the original free of charge and give you a copy – but ask them to make sure. Most solicitors will also store a will they didn't write, but there will probably be a fee.

Release your brand name and increase exposure to hundreds of wills as well as probate professionals daily by protecting an advertising and marketing room on the Today's Wills & Probate web site and once a week newsletter. Established in 2014, Today's Wills & Probate is the leading news magazine for wills and probate experts. We offer comprehensive training, technical support, as well as literature/resources to our accredited members, and offer fully detailed estate planning services. Our Consultants are available free of charge on the internet consultations as well as telephone consultations, to use you suggestions on all your estate planning requirements, whilst you stay in the security and comfort of your very own home. We additionally have 2 workplaces in Hellesdon, Norwich as well as St Ives, Cambridgeshire and are using Face-to-face appointments in accordance with Government standards on social distancing.

Indication Your Will In Front Of Witnesses.

I'm single or single without children.Even if you lived with your companion, your making it through companion is not qualified to anything.

I'm single or solitary with children.Even if you dealt with your companion, your enduring partner does not inherit anything.

plenty of software supplies a certain degree of legal protection for married or civil-partnered couples, however this protection doesn't apply to cohabiting pairs-- also if you've been together for 20 years as well as have 3 kids.

The rules are complex though, so legal recommendations deserves having, and things vary discreetly across the UK nations.

Actually, there are just limited civil liberties for cohabiting companions.

If you're not married or in a civil collaboration, also if you split up, there is generally no lawful commitment to merge your assets and also divide them.

In response to the coronavirus pandemic and also the fact some individuals need to 'protect', the Federal government has actually introduced regulation enabling the observing of wills to be done using video clip.

If you have no making it through blood relatives, your estate will go to the Crown.

If it's less than ₤ 2million, consider looking in other places, as you may discover it tough to get payment from companies supplying much less than this should points go wrong. A lot of lawyers save wills for free if you made the will with them.

To Identify Who Will Take Care Of Your Minor Kid

Your will writing firm might maintain your details on data and advise you when it's time to review your will. It's a great concept to assess your will often to guarantee that it stands and still reflects your dreams. If you leave an old will as well as don't upgrade it you might locate that it does not abide by current laws and also might leave your estate available to Intestacy Law.

Solicitors operate in a controlled market, which indicates that you have much more rights as a customer need to something fail with your Will. Typically, you can get in touch with the Legal Ombudsman to whine if you have actually talked with the solicitor directly and also your issues aren't attended to. Many Will-writing services are covered by the Customer Civil Liberty Act 2015, yet it deserves examining as policies can vary from business to firm. Some also come from main organisations that can action in to assist you out if you're not delighted with the procedure.

Can I leave my wife out of my will UK?

Under UK law you have a lot of freedom in your Will to leave your Estate to whoever you like. However, you need to be aware that legally you have to provide reasonable support to all people who are financially dependent on you (e.g. spouse, children etc.) and anyone you maintained / supported financially.

Secret Documents To Have Together With Your Last Will As Well As Testimony.

Complete the form below to find out more concerning any of our solutions. By giving away today, you might aid us respond to much more phones call to our recommendations line, project harder for older people's rights and also fair therapy as well as provide normal relationship calls to people who are frantically lonesome. If you have children as well as your spouse or companion is deceased your youngsters will acquire every little thing, split equally between them.

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The new will should start with a provision specifying that it withdraws all previous wills and also codicils. Withdrawing a will implies that the will is no longer legally legitimate. You can also ask the firm to get in touch with lawyers in the area where the individual lived to ask if they hold a will. The individual that has actually passed away, or their solicitor, may have registered their will with a commercial organisation such as Certainty () as well as, after the person's death, you can spend for a search of the wills signed up on the firm's database.

April King's team of attorneys is led by Paul King, a complete member of the Culture of Trusts as well as Estates Practitioners. ACTION is the worldwide expert association for practitioners that specialise in family members inheritance and succession preparation. Full ACTION participants like Paul are internationally acknowledged as professionals in their area, with proven credentials and experience. In addition, even if the service states that the Will is inspected by a certified person later on, that person can not correctly check the paper suits your conditions since there is no interview or notes to compare to!

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Use our rapid online service and also established your own will within 20 mins. Alternative 1-- You can look our directory of will writing experts, which you can discover right here. from a lawyer in case of a complicated scenario, such as multiple separations, abroad investments, organization properties or large estates.

When Should You Obtain Lawful Advice To Prepare Your Will?

Will-writing solutions start at around ₤ 80, and also will increase to a few hundred extra pounds, depending on the intricacy of your estate, as well as the competence of the firm. When writing a will, many people select to take the DIY course rather than seek professional aid.

Can my husband throw me out of our house UK?

In short, then you cannot simply kick your husband out of the house. Instead, you will need to apply for your own occupation order from the court, which will determine who can occupy the property.

Along with becoming part of an acknowledged network of professionals, becoming a member of the IPW can help your business attract attention versus competitors, demonstrating the high requirement of your solutions. Coronavirus (COVID-19) Update 22/09/ In accordance with the current Federal government suggestions, we have actually returned to functioning from residence. Our solutions continue to be uninterrupted and also our functioning hrs are customarily. This is excellent for any individual that doesn't have an e-mail address or would simply choose to speak to an expert. In this circumstance, your partner would additionally inherit 100% of your ₤ 325,000 tax obligation allowance, giving them an overall allowance of ₤ 650,000.

Making a Will enables you to define where your properties must go on your death. You can attend to liked ones and also in doing so, show that you care. Furthermore, Wills can cover issues such as philanthropic gifts, guardianship for small youngsters, care for pet dogs and whether the testator wishes to be hidden or cremated. Every Will is backed-up with ₤ 2m of specialist indemnity insurance.

If you are in any uncertainty regarding whether or not you ought to make a will, you need to consult a solicitor or a Citizens Advice neighborhood office that can provide you lists of solicitors. Regardless of whether you choose ahome check out, telephone orvideo chatappointment, the same team of pleasant, skilled legal professionals will direct you through the intricacies of writing your Will.

This is due to the fact that it is followed up by on-going area guidance to improve knowledge every step of the means. Distinctively, we are the only network to evaluate and inspect every Will that is written. Finally, we are the only Will writing company to take duty for ALL suggestions provided. An extremely sincere organization as well as have actually currently made myself reassured that my family is secured.

Your partner might after that leave an estate as much as the value of ₤ 650,000 without needing to pay any type of estate tax. The estate tax rate for 2019/20 is ₤ 325,000-- this is additionally known as the nil price band. If your estate is worth greater than ₤ 325,000, you will typically have to pay 40% on whatever over the zero price band. Nonetheless, if you're married or in a civil partnership and also your companion is domiciled in the UK, anything you delegate your partner will be free of tax, regardless of the size of your estate.

What is better a will or a trust?

Unlike a will, a living trust passes property outside of probate court. There are no court or attorney fees after the trust is established. Your property can be passed immediately and directly to your named beneficiaries. Trusts tend to be more expensive than wills to create and maintain.

The most well-recognised organisations are the Institute of Expert Willwriters and also the Culture of Will Writers. It's also worth inspecting if they're certified by the Trading Specification Institute Customer Codes Authorization Plan. Ultimately, you ought to ask the Will-writing business where their indemnity cover starts.

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If you as well as a spouse or partner want substantively the exact same wills - called mirror wills - you'll generally obtain a discount rate for writing both at once. Before writing your will, it deserves recognizing all the possessions you have, along with any type of emotional products you wish to leave to enjoyed ones.

If you do not feel great writing a will online, among our specialists would certainly enjoy to make your will over the phone. We can then get it printed, bound and also sent to you in the blog post. After writing a will and getting it inspected by our specialists, you require to print and authorize it before 2 witnesses to make it lawfully binding. You can do it from the comfort of your very own home in simply 15 minutes. Create a will online in as little as 15 minutes and also take care of what actually matters.

You ought to also work out plans for your kids's care, and take into consideration whether you would love to leave details guidelines for your funeral. If you're intending to write a will, you can choose whether to do it yourself or seek aid from a professional. The right alternative for you will depend upon exactly how complex your affairs are, as well as how much help you're most likely to require. We discuss your options for doing-it-yourself, making use of a solicitor, or hiring a will-writing service below.

What happens if the witness to your will Dies UK?

That said, the death of a witness does not necessarily invalidate a will. At the outset of probate proceedings, if the witnesses have not survived, the executor will be required to produce proof that the original witness signatures were valid, as well as proof of the witnesses' deaths.

The Will Associates is just one of the UK's largest estate planning companies, being experts in Wills, Depends On, Powers of Attorney as well as Probate. We have hundreds of qualified professionals and head office team and we have actually aided over 7,000 individuals protect in excess of ₤ 1.5 BN in properties. If you are named in someone else's will as an administrator, you may need to look for probate to ensure that you can take care of their estate. There are rigorous time limits for testing a will and if you intend to test a will, you must look for legal advice immediately.

#Making a will #Will writing services #How to make a will #Fixed Fee Will Writing #Online Will Writing #Will Aid #Will Writing Specialist #will template #how to write a simple will #will writing services near me #legal will #online will #family will #simple will #how to end a will

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thesevenseraphs · 5 years ago

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Director’s Cut: Part III (Finale)

OK. When I started writing this Director’s Cut, I figured it would be an easy couple-thousand-word post. My plan was to rapidly look back at the past six months of Destiny 2 and layout a simple outline of where we want to go this Fall. I think I still did that, but I ended up wanting to talk more about the “why”, the team, and share how we are thinking about Destiny. I remember following games when I was younger and being excited to dig into the messages the developers put together, like Tigole’s posts on raids and dungeons back in my WoW days.

And I loved it. And I loved reading those posts.

Maybe this was all a love letter to long-form communication—a relic from a time before it was all hot takes, 140/280-character posts, and upvotes.

I didn’t think this would add up to something longer than almost every paper I wrote in college. But here we are.

Before we get to today’s programming, I want to circle back on reloader mods and also about mods more generally in Armor this fall, in case you missed my Twitter thoughts.

These general mods--which provide the exact same effect as Hand Cannon reloader (but also affects other small arms weapons)--cost 4-5 energy (depending on the mod) and do not have an elemental affinity associated with them.

These general mods -- of which there are 11 -- are unlocked for everyone automatically, so you can start to tinker right away.

Basically, when you want to specialize your weapon, it requires matching your armor's energy type.

And then you get an energy discount on socketing the mod.

Thanks for the questions on this.

Let’s finish this series by looking at combat—where the action game and RPG collide—and begin the conversation about the “single evolving world” portion of our vision. (We’ll have more on the evolving world later this month after the feeling has returned to my fingers.)

COMBAT: THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF ACTION AND RPG

We want the game to be an awesome power fantasy where challenge can push back on its players. As we discussed in Part I, the game started to bend in Year 2 under the weight of this Power and Destiny’s imperative that it ride the line between action game and RPG. This section is going to explore that collision across a variety of places: the UI, the player character, and of course PvP.

Part I: Damage Numbers and the 999,999 Problem

Destiny 2 was built with very different goals in mind than was the much-improved version of the game we’re playing today. Some parts simply weren’t meant to last for several years. One of those parts is the displayed-damage values relative to the player’s Power level.

This problem most clearly manifests to players as the frequency of “999,999” showing up in your HUD. As the post-Forsaken year continued, the curve that dictates the value of displayed damage sharpens into a hockey stick. The display values for Shadowkeep rocket off the graph and become almost vertical!

This inflation for damage is getting retooled this Fall. It will look like a UI numbers squish, but more crucially, behind the scenes we’re setting up the damage-display system to last. It’s important that you understand we are not nerfing your outgoing damage; rather, we’re refactoring the displayed number game wide.

We’ve also had something that, over the years, the team has come to call “The Immunity Wall.” This is a value where players cannot damage AI. In the game today, if you’re 50 Power below an enemy and you shoot it, you deal a big ol’ donut. Another change we’ve made for fall is that we’ve lowered (raised?) the immunity wall to 100. This means you can now deal damage to enemies you are up to 100 Power below. The at-Power (you and an enemy are the same Power) experience isn’t changing. This isn’t a nerf. This is a way for folks to take on greater challenges by fighting further below the Power curve.

Part II: Buffs, Debuffs, and Stacking Rules

You know it, I know it, and Gladd knows it: The way damage stacking works in the game right now is busted. Multiplicative damage combines with the exponential damage inflation above to send damage numbers to soaring heights of “we cannot continue this way.”

We’ve taken all the weapon damage buffs (these enhance the player’s outgoing damage) that can appear on the character and stack-ranked their damage effects (these are effects like Empowering Rift, Well of Radiance, Lumina’s buff, and top-tree Void Titan’s Weapons of Light). We’ve also overhauled the system under the hood, so the damage calculations use only the most powerful buff on a player at a given time. It’s got nuance to it, though: If you’re under the damage effect of something stronger than Well of Radiance, you will still receive the healing effect from the Well, but the damage bonus would come from the other buff (e.g., Lumina or Weapons of Light).

We’ve made some changes to debuffs as well (a debuff is an effect that weakens the enemy). We’ve touched the effects and durations of a number of them. These effects include Hammer Strike, Shattering Strike, Tractor Cannon, and Shadowshot (Shadowshot will now work on powerful weapons as well).

In general, only one ability buff can be active on a player at a given time, and enemies can be affected by only one debuff at a time. There are notable exceptions in the form of Exotics and weapon amplification perks (Kill Clip, Rampage, et cetera). The Exotics and weapon amplification perks will remain multiplicative increases to damage above the ability buff values.

Here’s a simple version: Buffs that apply to a single weapon (Rampage, Kill Clip, Exotics) can still stack. But buffs that affect all your weapons no longer stack. The most powerful of those buffs will be applied to your damage. I’m sure someone is gonna make a video that shows this in action on October 1st.

Part III: Supers Everywhere

Masterworked guns. Super mods. Orbs everywhere.

Right now, for a pretty decent player running Super mods, the time it takes to gain a Super is under two minutes in PvP. If you compare the duration and damage of roaming Supers in Destiny 2 to roaming Supers in Destiny 1, you’ll see they’re more powerful now than ever before. We didn’t even have roaming Arc Titans in Destiny 1, but every time I play PvP, I get killed by one twice in the same Super. Similar to the way that deep down, we all know the damage-dealing capabilities of Guardians has gotten out of control, we know the Supers have too. Destiny 2 was overly restrictive at launch, but now the pendulum has swung too far in the other direction. We’ll start bringing this back toward center in Shadowkeep.

On a livestream a couple months ago, I mentioned that we’re lowering roaming Super damage resistance. And we are. Seeing someone pop a Super should not instinctively make us want to run away, give up, or float off the map. We want Super kills to feel earned, and we want players on the business end of a Super to feel like they can make a big play and put down that Striker Titan. Being able to challenge someone in their Super is important, and right now, many of the Supers are very, very hard to challenge.

On top of that, more things than ever now contribute to players getting their Supers back, so we’re doing some tuning there as well. Supers will be just as powerful, but they will be a more strategic choice. As such, we’re reducing the effectiveness of orbs on refilling the Super meter and reducing the Super energy gained from kills and assists.

This isn’t just a PvP problem. Remember that series on the Reckoning in Part I? It’s all related. Supers are still very, very powerful in the PvE game—players will just need to be slightly more specific with their timing and positioning than in the past. This kind of tuning is a pendulum: We’ve swung it hard in different directions, and we’re all hopeful that these changes will begin to find a better middle ground for Destiny 2.

I know you’ll let us know your thoughts (once you’ve played it this Fall).

Part IV: Heavy Ammo Available

In Destiny 1, Heavy ammo became an in-match rally point in 6v6 matches. Once opened, players nearby would all get some Heavy ammo. In Destiny 2, Heavy ammo is a jockey-for-position speed-before-need looting game that gets played all the time. In Destiny 1, Heavy ammo felt metered, and in Destiny 2 you can defeat a team (but not an Arc Titan) multiple times with a brick for a Hammerhead.

See where is this heading?

We’re making some changes to Heavy ammo in Destiny 2: Heavy ammo will be communal in 6v6 playlists. We’re also reducing the amount of ammo per brick in PvP for certain 6v6 archetypes. It’s not exactly the same as D1 though—when a player cracks open the Heavy crate, other players have a window of time to interact with it to get their Heavy ammo.

Part V: Let’s Talk About PvP

There has been a lot of conversation (internally and externally!) at different points during the year around the support Bungie provides PvP. On one hand, we have continued to tune the game each quarter, added pinnacle PvP weapons (that somehow ended up as pinnacle PvE weapons), tried out a ranking system in the Crucible, and returned the game to its 6v6 roots. On the other hand: We haven’t released a new permanent game mode, many game modes from Destiny 1 are nowhere to be seen, there isn’t a public-facing PvP team, and the last real thing we said was Trials is staying on hiatus indefinitely.

Let’s get some of this sorted out.

Trials of the Nine wasn’t the hero we wanted it to be. We made too many changes to a formula that—while it had begun to decline in Destiny 1—wasn’t as flawed as we thought. When we were making Destiny 2, we talked a lot about making sure it felt like a sequel, bringing in new players, and simplifying the game—and Trials of the Nine created another casualty there. It happened on my watch, and if I could turn back time, I’d challenge us to do many things differently. If nothing else, I hope it’s clear we are committed to learning from the mistakes we make and making it right.

There were some really cool parts to the Emissary. Some of the gear was pretty potent (Sup, Darkest Before), but the theme felt weaker, the Trials card was less important, and the stakes felt lower. Trials of the Nine didn’t work the way we’d hoped, and Trials of the Nine is on hiatus indefinitely.

So why have we been so quiet about PvP? Well, we didn’t have a lot to say. We weren’t actively developing something to hype up. We knew PvP was going to be something everyone got for free in New Light, so it wasn’t really a part of the Shadowkeep core offering. What are we doing about PvP became a question we were asked internally, too. A bunch of folks on our team are passionate about PvP and wanted to know where it was heading.

PvP is in need of some quality-of-life improvements and restructuring. This Fall, with New Light (hopefully) bringing a bunch of new folks into Destiny and with our existing players looking for some updates to PvP, we will start by making significant changes to the PvP portion of the Director.

Today, it’s a fine balance between adding playlists and maintaining healthy populations when we’re looking at changes to playlist structures. We want to achieve a couple of goals: First, we want players to have some more agency with respect to “pick a playlist, play a mode.” And second, we want the playlists to drift back to the “everything is a factor of 3” that Destiny 1 used (and that the rest of the game mostly uses).

Player counts being based on a common number (like 3) is important. It enables a bunch of activity options for groups of friends to engage with. In Destiny 1, players could run a couple strike groups, team up for a raid, go play 6v6 PvP, split up and go to 3v3 PvP, et cetera. At launch, Destiny 2’s 4v4 PvP completely broke this pattern, and we want to reset that bone with PvP this Fall.

We’ve revised the playlists a lot, and here’s how it’s going to work:

We’ve removed the Quickplay and Competitive nodes from the Director.

If you’re looking for an experience like Quickplay, we’ve added Classic Mix (a connection-based playlist [like Quickplay today]). Classic Mix includes Control, Clash, and Supremacy.

Competitive is replaced by 3v3 Survival (which now awards Glory).

We’ve also added a Survival Solo Queue playlist that also awards Glory.

We’ve added 6v6 Control as its own playlist.

With the potential influx of new players this Fall, we want to have a playlist that signals to new players that this is where to start.

We feel like 6v6 Control is the right starting place when introducing new friends to Destiny.

We’ve added a weekly 6v6 rotator and a weekly 4v4 rotator.

These rotator playlists are where modes like Clash, Supremacy, Mayhem, Lockdown, and Countdown will appear.

We’ve removed some underperforming maps from matchmaking, too.

We’ve also been working on four variants of 3v3 Elimination. They include different approaches to revives (token resurrection or not) and variations on how Heavy ammo works. Elimination is going to make its return in Crucible Labs. However, Elimination is very much unfinished. It’s missing VO, and there are no unique medals associated with it. Between the missing polish and the four variants we’d like your feedback on, Elimination—for the time being—is a great fit for Crucible Labs. We fully expect it to graduate out of Labs and find a warmer home.

We wanted to make sure we could test Elimination on some familiar maps, so we’ve brought back Widow’s Court and Twilight Gap. We want to play with you, and watch you play Elimination in this combat sandbox and see how it all fits together.

We’re also changing how we do matchmaking. With a bunch of potential new players entering Destiny via New Light, we don’t want PvP to feel like you’re being told it’s time to learn to swim as the helicopter door opens over the Pacific Ocean. So, we’ve made some changes to separate the new swimmers from the Olympians.

Additionally, we’ve also taken a longer look at matchmaking and overhauled the skill-matching system. In the game today, Quickplay is the only playlist that doesn’t have some version of skill matching in the game. We’re preserving that behavior (connection matchmaking) in the 6v6 Classic Mix playlist. Here’s what gets really annoying about skill match:

When it’s overly restrictive, it’s fatiguing when every single game feels like a sweat fest.

When it’s overly loose, a player can get an entire evening of unlucky matchmaking RNG where they’re getting dumped on by squads of Terminators shredding Kinderguardians. A bad time (for the Kinderguardians)!

There’s much more complexity and nuance to an evening of PvP than those two statements above, but they do accurately capture the core problem: a lack of match-to-match variety. Sure, for a bunch of Terminators, a night of stomping might be a blast, but what about the folks on the receiving end of that business? This is where it gets tricky to improve matchmaking—people generally tend to focus on their own experience in their feedback.

We think variety across an evening of PvP is important. This Fall, skill match should ensure a wider variety of matches, regardless of player skill. Some matches should be tense and thrilling, while other matches should be stomps. This philosophy should also apply to the top players, so they don’t feel like every match is a sweatshow, either. We’ve refactored how players gain Glory ranks with these skill match changes—we’re factoring in your skill value to Glory gains and losses, so that number can more effectively represent skill. We’ve also made a number of quality-of-life changes to Glory, Valor, and Infamy to make losses less punishing to your streaks. Once the above changes go live in October, we’ll be watching, listening, and reading as you check them out.

AN EVOLVING WORLD

There’s an aspirational vision for what “evolving” could mean for Destiny. Someday, Destiny could become a dynamic world, where the world changes each season. We want playing Destiny to feel like you're playing in a game world with true momentum, a universe that is going somewhere. A game where things are happening—not just in terms of new items and activities but also in terms of narrative. It’s frequently seemed like Destiny was treading water in terms of moving the world’s narrative forward. We want to tackle this in Destiny 2’s third year.

During Season 8, a new situation will unfold on the Moon (I’m being cagey here only because I am reluctant to spoil anything). Over the course of the season, parts of the game will change before the situation culminates in an event that will ultimate resolve it, and its content will be exhausted. But this resolution sets up the events of Season 9, which again adds something new to the game and resolves it, something that too will go away, but not before setting up Season 10, et cetera.

This differs from last year’s Annual Pass, which permanently added activities to the game. This year will see events that last for three months and offer new rewards to chase, although at the end of that period, some of the activities will go away. For a time, the rewards will too. But we also acknowledge that part of playing Destiny is collecting all of the stuff, so in future seasons the weapons and Legendary armor associated with these seasonal activities will be added to other reward sites.

I alluded to some of this when we were Looking Back. The game continuing to grow forever isn’t something we can support. Destiny’s simulation, fidelity, and architecture fundamentally make it a big game. I’ve seen a lot of “game X does it, why can’t Destiny?” but the referenced games and ours have very different technical profiles.

Technical limitations aside, we also don’t think making a game that grows forever is Destiny’s path forward. It’s why the second component of the vision is a single, evolving world (to clarify, that single evolving world doesn’t mean there’s only one destination on the Director—that’s not where we’re heading!).

You were there with your friends, got the gear and weapons to remember it by, made the memories, and changed alongside Destiny.

In late August, we’re going to talk more about the Annual Pass and how it’s continuing to evolve.

CLOSING TIME

If you’ve made it this far, thanks. I think I could probably write another 10,000 words about this game. This Fall is my ninth working on Destiny. And at times it’s felt way longer than nine years. There have been dark, dark days. For you. For us here, and certainly for me. But this year has been special—it’s been a lot of fun talking with you all and getting to try some different things (whether they are a stream where I turned up unshowered because my hot water went out the morning of [yep] or a Twitter promise that turned into way too many words [this]).

The Bungie team has worked incredibly hard, and we’re excited to get Shadowkeep onto your hard drives in October. Big thanks to them for their hard work and also for helping me put this together on a comically tight timeline. Many, many emails and work-related IMs were sent during the construction of this message.

Thanks for playing, reading, and being a part of this community.

#Destiny #Destiny 2 #Destiny 2: Forsaken #long post #Destiny 2: Shadowkeep

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distractedhistotech · 6 years ago

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Before MSA +1: The Surprise Pepper

Lewis’ first memory was following a dead man down a street. He didn’t know how he knew the man was dead. He just knew, but he also knew that the dead man wasn’t dangerous. It was incredibly confusing to his young mind.

The dead man took him over to a house porch. “This is a good family. They’ll help you.”

“Okay…?”

The dead man left. Lewis watched him leave, suddenly feeling scared. He had no idea who that was, but he had been the only person Lewis had known in his very brief life. What was Lewis supposed to do now?

Lewis decided he was tired and curled up on the welcome mat to go to sleep.

Several hours later, Mr. Friggitello ‘Frig’ Pepper opened the door to get the morning paper and nearly tripped over Lewis. He stared, mouth open in shock for several moments. “Savina?”

“Hm?”

“There is a child sleeping on our welcome mat.”

“What?” Mrs. Savina Pepper walked over to the front door and got a good look at Lewis. “…Is that blood?”

“Urm…” Frig took a closer look. “I, uh, I think it is.” He swallowed. “Why does he have blood on his clothes?”

“Let’s ask him.” Savina knelt down and shook the boy. “Hey, wake up, you can’t be comfortable.”

Lewis made a sound that indicated that he didn’t want to wake up, but he did open his eyes after Mrs. Pepper shook him for a couple of moments. He blinked up at the Peppers with sleepy eyes. “Good morning?”

“Good morning,” greeted Savina. “Who are you and why are you sleeping on our doormat?”

“I’m Lewis. It’s softer than the wood,” said Lewis as that made perfect sense to him.

“It’s nice to meet you Lewis,” said Frigg. “I’m Frigg, and this is Savina.”

“Were you separated from your parents?” asked Savina as she looked around for anyone who might look like Lewis.

Lewis thought. He had parents. He wasn’t sure where they were…or who they were. He decided to settle for a shrug.

“Should we call the police?” asked Frigg.

A jolt of fear shot through Lewis. “Did I do something wrong?”

Frigg shook his head. “No, no, no! I just…You’re in trouble, and police help people who are in trouble.” He looked to Savina. “But I guess maybe we don’t have to?”

Savina made a considering sound. “Maybe if we can find Lewis’ parents ourselves. What’s your last name?”

“I don’t know,” Lewis said slowly. That struck him as being rather odd.

Mr. and Mrs. Pepper frowned. “Where did this blood come from?” asked Frigg. “You don’t seem to be injured.”

Lewis looked own at his clothes in surprise. He’d honestly forgotten about the blood. “I don’t hurt…”

“I’d still like to take you to the hospital. Or at least a clinic,” said Frigg.

Savina suddenly thought of something. “Lewis, why did you decide to rest at our hourse?”

Lewis tilted his head. “Huh?”

“There’s a cemetery behind our house. The nearby church seems more preferable,” explained Savina.

Lewis lit up. “Oh, is that where the nice dead man came from?”

Mr. and Mrs. Pepper stared. “Nice dead man?”

Lewis nodded. “Yeah. He brought me here. He said you were nice.”

While Mr. and Mrs. Pepper were rational adults and initially thought that Lewis might have imagined ‘the nice dead man’, they’d seen enough weird stuff in their house to consider that there really had been a dead man, especially since Lewis didn’t seem bothered by the idea.

Then again he was still pretty young. Maybe he didn’t completely understand what death meant.

“I’ll call the restaurant and let them know we’re taking the day off,” decided Savina. “I’ll grab something for Lewis to eat too.”

Lewis’ stomach growled at the promise of food. Frigg chuckled a bit as Savina walked back inside their home. “I hope you like spicy food. There’s not a lot in our house that isn’t.”

“I’m too hungry to care,” Lewis said.

“I can believe that,” said Frigg. He studied Lewis for a moment. “Hey, how old would you say you are?”

Lewis thought for a moment before shrugging.

Frigg sighed. “Don’t know that either, huh? What do you remember?”

“Um…The nice dead man brought me here.”

“And?”

“And, uh, the nice dead man brought me here,” repeated Lewis, looking very confused.

Oh, this was starting to look bad. “Do you know where you’re from?” Lewis shook his head. “Do you have any pets?” A shrug. “Brothers or sisters?” A shrug. “Where you got these clothes?”

Lewis glanced down as his simple green t-shirt and pants. Nothing special besides the blood on them. He shrugged again.

Frigg bit his lip. Did Lewis have amnesia? Before he could try and figure out a way to tell, Savina returned with a plate of toast that she’d put some jam on. “Here you go.”

Lewis lit up. “Thank you!” he immediately dug in.

Savina turned to Frigg. “I called the restaurant to let them know we probably won’t be coming in today. Let’s get Lewis to the hospital.”

“All right.” Frigg wasn’t sure he should tell Savina about Lewis’ possible amnesia in front of Lewis. Lewis was calm now, and Frigg wanted him to stay that way as long as possible.

It took around 15 minutes to get to the hospital. Lewis had finished his toast by then, so they wiped off some of the jam with a towel so he wouldn’t be too sticky when they went in. The emergency department had a few other people present, but the counter was free when they got up to it. “Ah, hello?”

The nurse on duty looked up with a tired smile. “Yes? I can help you?”

“My wife and I found this boy,” explained Frigg as Savina picked up Lewis and put him on her hip. “He says his name is Lewis. He doesn’t know who his parents are.”

That got a startled look from Savina and a concerned look from the nurse. “I see. Uh, Lewis, are you hurt?” She’d noticed the blood by then.

Lewis shook his head. “Nope.”

“Do you know any adults I can contact?” asked the nurse. Lewis shook his head. “If that’s the case, I’ll have to contact child services and the police.”

“We understand,” said Savina. “Do we wait or is there an open bay?”

“Well, we’re a bit short-staffed, and Lewis doesn’t seem to be in any danger, so I’ll have to ask you to wait.”

So the three sat in a group of chairs not too far from the counter. Lewis occasionally saw people in hospital gowns walking out of the doors. No one else seemed to notice them, much to his confusion.

After a little while, a man in a police uniform came in. His eyes swept across the room before landing on the Peppers. He made his way over to them. “Hello, I got a call about a missing child being found.”

“Is he missing?” asked Frigg.

“Well, I haven’t heard of any missing children matching Lewis’ description, but if you found him he must have been missing at some point,” reasoned the officer, who clearly had some odd logic going on.

Frigg sweatdropped. “Uh, I see…”

The officer took out a notebook. “So, would you mind telling me the events leading up to your trip to the hospital?”

The story was told mostly by Mr. and Mrs. Pepper with occasional input from Lewis. Unfortunately, this meant he mentioned the nice dead man. Fortunately, the officer seemed to think this was a living person and asked Lewis to describe him up until Lewis mentioned that part of his neck was missing. Then he figured this was someone Lewis saw die or something along those lines.

“Excuse me, but what is going to happen to Lewis?” asked Frigg.

The officer closed his notebook. “Lewis will be taken into the care of child services until his legal guardians are found. If they cannot be found, I suppose he’ll be placed in a foster family, maybe adopted.”

“Can’t I stay with Mr. Frigg and Mrs. Savina?” asked Lewis. “They’re nice, and I like them!”

“You’ll have to ask the child services representative. They’ll know more about that than I do.” The officer frowned. “Actually, I’m surprised they haven’t shown up yet. I wonder if they’re having a busy day. And these two will have to be okay with it of course.”

Lewis turned and looked at the Peppers with big, hopeful eyes. It reminded Frigg of the time he found a box of abandoned kittens that he took in even though he was allergic. Savina simply had bad experiences with the foster system. “We have room. He could stay,” she said.

“Ye-yeah! I know this isn’t exactly how we were planning on having kids, but this feels…important? Special? I just feel like this was meant to be and we should do this,” agreed Frigg.

“Well, that would depend on us not finding Lewis’ family,” said the officer. “You seem like a nice couple though. Oh, hey, I think that’s the child services officer.”

The person he was talking about was a tired looking, middle-aged woman. She caught sight of them and hurried over, putting on a smile. “Hello there. I’m sorry I took so long. There was an…incident that I had to take care of.” She knelt down so she was at the same level as Lewis. “Hello Lewis. I’m Catherine. How are you today?”

“Hungry,” Lewis answered promptly. “I ate all the toast.”

“I see. Maybe we can go get you something to eat once the doctors have looked you over,” suggested Catherine. “But can you tell me where your parents are first?”

“I don’t know,” said Lewis, starting to get annoyed at how the grown ups were asking him questions he just didn’t know the answer to. “I don’t know who they are.”

“I see. I’m sorry. Can you tell me who you were staying with?”

“I don’t know.”

The police officer cleared his throat. “Lewis may have some sort of amnesia,” he whispered.

Catherine winced. “Oh dear. Well, what can you tell me about yourself?”

“My name is Lewis. I like Mr. Frigg and Mrs. Savina! And toast with jam!” Lewis tried to think of something else to say.

“Can you tell me how old you are?” prodded Catherine.

“No.” Lewis wasn’t trying to be difficult, but he was certainly making it difficult.

“Peppers?” called a nurse.

They moved to a hospital bay where a doctor started taking some vitals. “A bit dehydrated, but I don’t think we need to put him on an IV,” said the doctor. “Maybe get him some juice.” The doctor started feeling around Lewis’ head.

“Ow!”

“Looks like you’ve got a pretty bad bump on your head.”

“Is that why he’s having trouble remembering things?” asked Frigg.

“Probably not. Amnesia caused by head injuries is pretty rare, at least to this extent. It’s much more likely to be psychological,” explained the doctor. “He might remember. He might not. You might have results if he sees a child psychologist. However, all in all, I’d say he’s a healthy boy. I can’t say for sure how old Lewis is, but I’d his development would be in the range of 5-6 years old.” He paused. “I’d say 6 given your size.”

“Oh…” Lewis made a note. It felt a bit better to know how old he was.

“There are no signs of abuse?” asked Catherine.

The doctor shook his head. “No, his parents took care of him, whoever they are.”

Lewis suddenly wondered who his Mom and Dad were.

“Now, I understand you two were interested in looking after Lewis?” Mr. and Mrs. Pepper nodded. “That’s excellent! But as we may be able to locate his parents, you won’t be able to adopt him at first. Also, I will have to do a house check, and I’ll need to know who will be taking care of Lewis while you’re at work.”

“I think we can hire a babysitter until Lewis can go to school. Then we can take turns taking weekends off to stay with him,” suggested Frigg.

Savina nodded. “It might require hiring another chef or sous chef, but I think it could work. Perhaps if he makes some friends at school, he can spend time with them.”

“I wanna make friends!” agreed Lewis.

Catherine nodded. “Good, good. I’ll check on you three weekly for the first month, and after that we can stick to monthly visits until it an adoption is possible.”

As the small group started to walk out of the hospital, Lewis happily grabbed Mr. and Mrs. Pepper’s hands. Despite only knowing them for a few hours, Lewis felt safe and happy around them.

Lewis hoped he’d be able to stay with them.

#Mystery Skulls animated #technically a crossover but the other series isn't present yet #Lewis Pepper #Mr. Pepper #Mrs. Pepper #I have no idea what their first names are #Child in trouble #Fluff #First meetings

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laketaj24 · 6 years ago

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Gladiator IV

A/N: It’s back! I hope you enjoy the update! Taglist open and please let me know what you think!

Gladiator I, Gladiator II, Gladiator III Vikings MASTERLIST

Warnings: SMUT, SLAVERY.

Ubbe wades through the water in the barracks alone, a privilege given only to the Champion of the Ludus. Ubbe sits upon the steps washing his body with sponge and then dipping it back into the water. There was little peace to be obtained in the days of late. He’d won over ten victories in the past three months, rising Dominus Aurav to fame and hearing his name chanted even in his sleep.

“Gladiator Ubbe.” Aurav enters the bathing chambers with his guardsmen not too far behind. “You fought well last week.” He smiles. “And now you are needed in a different form tomorrow. The Senator’s daughter has taken interest in you, beyond the arena. And it is to my understanding that my sister Y/N and you have been spending time together. Nothing will ever come of it. She cannot marry property.”

His words sting Ubbe’s ego for a moment, but it was not something foreign to him, he knew the law just as well if not better than Dominus Aurav. “Dominus.” He pauses sitting back in the water. “I am here to serve.”

“Precisely, clean yourself and become well rested. I order you to not mount my sister until after you have bedded this senator’s daughter for my sister fucks you for free and she has offered 100 denarii. Is this understood?”

“Yes.”

“Nice speaking with you, granted you had little to say. The guardsmen will have their eye on you two, as they do always, do not defy my orders and I might let her watch.” Aurav waves over to one of the younger gladiators. “You will do for tonight. Guards.” He leaves the barracks bathing pool just a quietly as he arrived taking a gladiator with him.

***

“Are they all topless?” Hvitserk grinned biting into the pomegranate. He nudges Bjorn taring down at the women. “I could get used to this.”

“I am sure it appeases you Hvitserk, it is likely the only way that you can see them.” Ivar eyes watch the marketplace for her figure. He had seen her a day before tagging along the works of a slender gentleman and now today she walked through the place unaccompanied. “I will take my leave.” Ivar smiles fixing his royal blue tunic.

“We are to meet here at high noon Ivar.” Bjorn wipes his face. “We are not here for leisure, and bare in mind this is the same place you referred to as the scourge of the earth.”

“I have yet to take back my statement, brother.” Ivar hops onto the steps. “But why not bask in the place of filth while we are required to be here.” And with that he takes his leave merging into the flow of traffic far beyond the eyes reach of his two older brothers.

Hvitserk’s hair drapes among his shoulders. “His name has only been stated in among the peasants, brother.” He spits the seeds to the ground tearing off another piece of the pomegranate. “For all we know they murmur the name of a legend.”

“The Ludus is ten miles south of the city, but half a day’s journey. You will present yourself to the Lanista and declare your desire to become a gladiator.” Bjorn perches against the wall rolling his eyes at his younger brother who chides the women below. “Hvitserk the Younger, will you listen. This gladiator task is endearing, but we must have eyes on him before we proceed to call upon father.”

“I hear you Bjorn. I unlike Ivar do not have the attention span of a child. I fully understand my role within this plan of yours.”

“Perfect, then I shall spare myself the wasted breath to explain it to you once more. When Ivar returns we will send you on your way and we shall see you at the games within a fortnight if you progress as you say you will.”

“I have slaughtered hundreds of men in battle, you doubt me Bjorn?”

“I doubt all of you.” He says sucking through his teeth, “Find Ivar, he’s had enough time.”

Atria was rarely allowed into the city without supervision but having been the slave of the house for so long Aurav nor yourself did not think ill of her intentions. She paced through the city collecting everything on the list. There were to be guest tonight and the Domina had plans to make sure they were well fed and fucked to insure patronage to the house.

The hot sun beamed upon her exposed shoulders, the nearly sheer dress done nothing to protect her tawny skin from the searing rays of the sun. She takes to the merchants beneath the awnings picking her needed things from the list. “Four pomegranate and ten plums.” She smiles at the merchant and watches him bag the items for her.

“You are the first beauty I have laid eyes upon in this dreadful place.” He leans against the table in front of her. His veined arms are revealed beneath the white toga. He bit into the plum wiping the excess juice from his face. “And I have traveled far and wide across this wasteland called Rome.” He grins, and she pays him no mind moving to the merchant with busy eyes. He growls in frustration sifting through the traffic of people. Rudely he shoves and moves ahead until he is by her. “What is your name?”

“Five pears please.” Atria says ignoring him.

He groans in frustration stopping in front of her. He accesses her from head to toe. The curly head woman before him was like unlike any other woman he had seen before. Her hair rung in tight coils that draped to her shoulders, with lips pink like a rose. Her beautiful sun brazened skin nearly glowed against the sage colored dress and then her eyes twinkled like starlight. He was not going to have her ignore him. “I would have your name.”

He steps in front of her halting her stride and smiling at her with wide blue eyes and a smile. “Have I been rude or disrespectful to you?” He asks.

“No sir you haven’t. I am simply buying food under the order of Dominus Aurav.”

“Dominus Aurav is not my concern.” He pauses. “I am Ivar.” Ivar announces himself with a mischievous grin and wide eyes. “Why are you barred?” He touches the metal brace around her slender neck and steps back. “Are you enslaved?”

“I am, Ivar. And being such, if Dominus Aurav is none of your concern than neither am I, May the Gods bless you and may you stay out of my way. Ivar.” She feels the heat radiate her face as the crimson color flushes her body. Never had she taken the eye of a man so handsome.

“Why the aloofness? I simply wish to make my time here in Rome better.”

“What brings you here?”

“That is a private matter.” He reaches into her bag and grabs one of her pears tossing it above his head and then back into the bag. “You shop for your master, yet you get nothing that will sustain or nourish the body, only entertain. Fruits, nuts and wines. Do Romans not eat meat?”

“I cannot and will not cart goat up to the villa, there are men there for that purpose. You ask many questions and you have not yet stated from where you come? Why should I bestow answers about my master to you, a stranger of Rome?”

“But not a stranger to beauty and the finer things of life. Everything is crueler here in Rome. The arena, the sports,” He pauses giving her a devious eye. “The women.” Ivar walks beside her. “How long will it take for your master to search for you while you are absent from him?”

“My absence?”

“Yes,” He removes the hair from her shoulder and his finger traces along her collar bone. Ivar wets his lips and shakes his head. “You are going to be busy for a few.” He takes her hand leading her from the busy streets of the city and to the catacombs of the city. He looks up at the busy movements of the people smiling. “I think you deserve a moment away from it all,” He whispers leaning in closer to her. “Just to breathe.”

Atria shifts her weight swaying listening to the people pass above her and Ivar’s deep breaths. He steps closer to her and she swallows hard. “I have to leave now, Ivar.”

“Ivar, son of King Ragnar, Prince of Athens.” He smiles. “I fair that this is not the last time that we shall see one another, no?”

“If the gods will us seeing one another again, Prince Ivar… then it will be.”

“The gods tend to shine their favor upon me. I am confident I will see you again.”

***

The Recruits line the center of the small arena, it was nothing new to you watching them get whipped into shape. They were feeble compared to the men your Ludus had produced, all but one. He stood at the end with his crooked smile jarring at the experienced gladiator in front of him. You watch intrigued, wondering what Ubbe would do if he had a chance at the exuberant character in the rink. You fan yourself reaching for a glass of water from a quiet Atria.

“How was the marketplace?”

“Pleasant Domina.” She said with a subtle smile.

You pay her no mind. There were other matters of pressing concern. The senators daughter, Aurelia a close friend of your brother had purchased a session with Ubbe. This was customary. Women far and wide would travel to the villa just to be bed by them, but this was treachery, for Aurav knew the closeness of Ubbe to you. You hadn’t spoke to him really but in passing, thinking of ways to strip power from him seemed pointless except but by marriage, and you would rather be chained to your brother than remain miserable in the rest of your days.

The quick recruit springs out jabbing his wooden sword knocking the trained gladiator down before him and giggling as he won. The others watched intrigued, it was told he volunteered, it didn’t surprise you. This one looked accustomed to the madness. “Atria, where are they preparing Ubbe?” You whisper pulling her near you.

“Aurelia and Aurav are approaching Domina, I dare say you are too late.” She takes the goblet of water from you and nod over to your brother and the young blond. She approaches you smiling. “Speak Domina.”

“Aurelia, a site for sore eyes.” You grin kissing each of her cheeks before taking her hand from Aurav. You walk to the edge of the balcony. “See our fine recruits today.” You nearly sit staring over. “The youngest one at the end is quite a site.” And he was, the long hair clearly showing he was not from your barracks and his grin. He had a maniacal grin. His eyes stare up at the balcony and Aurelia turns to you. “Ubbe awaits you.”

“Is he as energized as he?”

“I do not know, I do not mingle with slaves.” You smile. “That one is not a slave, but a free man. He came here willingly.”

Aurav cut his eye over to you nodding his head indiscreetly. “Ubbe awaits you.”

“I want him.” She smiles. “He is a savage, and I personally am ready to be ravaged I will wait in the chambers Aurav. Do not keep me waiting. You know how I am about waiting.” She kisses your hand parting from you with her servant.

Aurav seethes beside you. “He has not been washed like Ubbe. I had plans.”

“Aurav, remember who put you in charge of this villa, whose money you sit on. Whose house you dwell in,” You pull him buy his shirt. “No one will fuck him but me. Is this understood? I would hate for you come up missing and I have to find another Dominus.”

“Keep your fucking filthy slave, sister.” He whispers. “One day soon he will be a distant and faint memory as the prior gladiators in his status, the new recruit already looks promising.”

“Good clean him, I hear he is already swelling your pockets.” Once he leaves you turn to Atria with a wide grin. “Fetch me a cloak and see that Ubbe is sent to the chambers upstairs please?”

***

Aurav had Ubbe sent back to the Barracks which meant you had to cloak yourselves. You await him at the bottom of the steps away from all the gladiators in their quarters patiently. And finally, he appears around the corner with a furrowed brow and yet a smile. “Domina.” He smirks. “What are you doing here at such hour? You will surely be seen.” He whispers peaking through the flow of linens hanging from the wash area.

“I nearly lost myself today. The thought of you with another woman,” You pause trying not to tell all of your faults to him. “You look well cleaned. How many servants did Aurav send to clean you?”

“Jealous, are we?” Ubbe peers up the stairwell. “We have but a moment, I am expected back a training. I must prepare the new recruits for the test.” Ubbe backs you into the corner lifting your dress. “Won’t it be brave of you to return to your friends freshly fucked by the man she desired? Smiling at them while picturing me between your legs.” He whispers as he places you on the stone counter. You remove his subligaria (roman underwear) without hesitation. “You mustn’t make sound, I could end up with lashes on my back.” He says lifting your legs to pull you closer to him. “Can you handle that?”

You whimpered biting your tongue as his calloused fingertips kneaded your thigh. Of course not. He made you lose control of yourself but that wasn’t important now. Ubbe shakes his head already predicting the outcome. He enters you sharply, pressing his cock deep in you and muffling your cries into his chest. Every thrust is intentionally meant to rile you there quickly. He slams his hips against yours and then winds it giving friction to your clit only to slam back into you over and over. Your legs wrap around his waist pulling him deeper and a moan escapes. He covers your mouth pumping into you faster and faster then snaking his hand between the two of you to rub circles on your clit. “Cum for me. I can hear them approaching.” He warns. He circles faster and faster combined with the thrusts of his hips and you come shaking into him allowing him to finish himself.

He was right down the steps marched the recruit and the guardsmen throwing him into the common room. You pull Ubbe closer to you and he peppers kisses down your neck listening for the guards to leave and stands. “Good woman you, you can be quiet.” He kisses you once more. “Take your leave. The senator’s daughter will be in search of you.”

“Have you seen the recruit, he is fearless. More so than you I fear.”

“I fear nothing, not even death Domina.” He assists you to the floor and fixes your dress for you. “Sleep well, and may your dreams be of me.” Ubbe watches you up the steps and turns back to the barracks fixing his subligaria.

“We come to save you, and here you are fucking your owner.” Hvitserk smiles with wide eyes at his brother.

“Hvitserk the Younger.” He beams. “What are you doing here? Where are the others?”

“Come, I have plenty to tell you brother. But first,” He pauses. “Are all their women here as unexpectedly wild in bed as Aurelias? I might have to stay here a while.”

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