#but then you get to spend twice as long with the mo ran who gets his act together

[mxtxfanatic]

Do you have any recommendations for danmei novels that are at all like SVSSS in tone? Or MDZS?

I have already read TGCF, but while I enjoyed it, the extended downward spiral without as many mental breaks from cutting to happier times proved to me a bit much for me.

I also tried 2ha but bounced off it hard as the POV character is just too unlikable at the start (even knowing why he's like that courtesy of tumblr spoilers couldn't save the unpleasantness of his POV).

I’m gonna be honest, I don’t think I’ve read any book that quite hits the same spot as svsss while having similar quality. The only novel I can think of is that’s similar in feel is Peerless Immortal Surrounded by Demonic Disciples, but the writing quality kinda sucks. Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know feels like it has a similar comedic tone to svsss, but that’s about it with the similarities. For mdzs recs, First-Class Lawyer, Copper Coins by the same author, and Record of the Missing Sect Master comes closest. These have MCs that are most similar in personality to Wei Wuxian without also having that extended downward spiral with minimal breaks that you mentioned.

The thing about mxtx’s writing is that I think her most unique skill amongst the writers of cnovel I’ve read with serious topics is her ability to weave humor into dark moments of the story to give reprieve from the pressure without completely breaking the momentum. A lot of stories either end up dropping the humor as the plot gets serious or adding too much humor, causing the somber moments to seem goofy and unserious. However, if you want stories that are mostly humorous with a few moments of somberness expertly woven in, then I’d suggest Ascending, Do Not Disturb and The Times Spent in Pretense.

[lenteur]

random thoughts about castaway diva, episode eleven

(read more because i always get carried away lol and this post might contain spoilers)

We're starting this episode with woo hak making me angry. Why are you contacting mok ha when the whole family agrees it's best to leave her out of the messy situation with mr jung? WHY???

... I take back what I just said. At least he's helping her with the press conference so I guess he's not that bad.

The whole press conference scene had me on the edge of my seat. So many conflicting feelings. Mok ha not following the script and trying to defend ran joo no matter what. Yoon ran joo just keeping her head down and accepting any accusation thrown her way. Eun mo rae seeming to side with mok ha and wanting ran joo to pursue her career so she feels better about being compared to ran joo (a desperate has-been singer who can no longer sing). All of that feels like a lot.

Talking about ran joo, it's frustrating to see her deny all of mok ha's wishes because it descredits the chunsam island singer. I understand she's trying to ease the tension but still, part of me feels like it's unfair to contradict mok ha like that. Because, in the end, mok ha will also be ridiculed for her statements.

I don't think it was a good idea for mok ha to participate in the press conference but I commend her will to defend those around her.

I'm glad the reporter let the truth out because now ran joo knows she was manipulated into signing the termination contract. I mean, she did it on her own will but had she known lee seo jun thinks of her that way, she might have thought twice before signing it. I wonder if there's a way she can nullify the contract? I feel for ran joo because she's been through a lot and there aren't many people on her side.

YES RAN JOO!!! Tell him how he would be nothing without you. He deserves it. He's trash, not you.

When I'm telling you I feel for ran joo, the fate of a tree metaphor is what I'm talking about. She's always given and hasn't taken a lot. People are taking her for granted. They milked her fame until the last drop and now she's treated like trash. I really wish there was a way to make her get her revenge. She doesn't deserve that treatment.

The scene between ran joo and her mom = saddest scene of the drama. I shed so many tears 😭😭😭 I'm relieved ran joo knows why her mom calls herself that and that they could talk to each other. This scene was beautiful 💖

MOK HA FINALLY CONFESSED HER FEELINGS TO KI HO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Dae woong (i think that's his name) woke up. I hope his story can make mr jung guilty of at least one thing (if he's innocent for the family case).

Lee uk is a good man. I keep repeating myself but I want everyone to know how amazing he is. He's ready to go to prison to defend the family. He's even saying if he could turn back time, he'd follow the mom sooner. I'm so happy the mother found someone so caring after spending years with mr jung.

I was so happy when the judge called mr jung following his family stalking.

I'm so happy the judge decided to believe the real victims instead of siding with mr jung. And dae woong could give evidence of the accident to the judge. Karma came and bit you in the a$$ mr jung!!! HAHAAHAHHHHAHAHAHA

Seo mok ha helping ran joo and her mom <3 She's one of the best people on earth. So kind and thoughtful.

YES! Ran joo wants to keep singing!!!

I'm relieved ran joo could read great articles about her to her mom. About a song that just got released (and not some old song).

So yoon ran joo sold 20 million albums a long time ago? Please make her magically appear during the shares meeting so everything is nullified 🙏🙏🙏

Justice was served for the family and yoon ran joo. I couldn't be any more grateful.

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? We got a happy ending for everyone finally and you have to ruin it with mr jung st*bbing lee uk? I can't believe it.

I'm giving this episode a 9/10

[moralesispunk]

Silence in the Stars

Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings - none

Summary - After losing the child, Mando doesn't know how to deal with his feelings. In two days, the both of you are going to meet with Cara and Greef to start the mission to get him back. Until then, you try to get him to feel better while dealing with your own feelings for him.

Mando had stayed in his room for the first day, not answering when you knocked to drop some dinner off for him. You would have worried more but when you went to head into town the next day you found the plate now empty outside his door. You spent the next day at the local market as it had been months since you were last on your ship and it would require some food and other materials for your journey. It wasn't the safest place for you to be walking about by yourself but it gave you something to focus on instead of Mando and the kid.

You picked up some fruit from the closest stall and decided to head out of the town. After about 45minutes you decided to stop and take a seat against a large rock that was just off the track to eat the juicy fruit from the stall you hadn't stopped thinking about. It was far enough from Mos Eisley's town that the loud bustle was now barely audible. The quiet gave you time to think about what happened on Tython, about where the kid would be by now, about how Mando was dealing with it all.

While you had grown close to the kid, you weren't nearly as close to him and he was with Mando. It took you by surprise when you first joined them, how this large, beskar covered man could be so soft for his kid. He never raised his voice near him and was never more than touching distance from him. While he was cold towards you when you first met, that had started to change as well. He still barely spoke more than one word answers but you realised he showed his care in others ways. You would wake up having fallen asleep in the cockpit with a blanket now draped over you. He would pull you closer so you were almost attached to his side as he walked you through the many citys and cantinas you had found yourself in. You also found him staring at you when he didn't think you had noticed. While there was a lot that went unsaid between the two of you there was an unspoken connection of trust, and care... and love.

You thought about what he would be doing now. He was most likely sitting still in his room, thinking about everything from a plan to get the kid back to the worst case scenario. He was good at making himself so still that despite his large frame you would not see him when you walked into a room until he decided to move. You had agreed to leave by mid-sun tomorrow and you knew it wouldn't do any good thinking about what might be happening to the kid now until you knew where Moff Gideon was and could start on a plan to get him back.

You hadn't realised how long you had been sitting by the side of the rock until you felt the cool breeze on the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes to welcome the cool breeze for a moment, a stark difference from the usual unbearable heat on this dry planet. Getting up and dusting yourself off you began to head back to the town, deciding to pick Mando up some food on the way back. You guessed he still wouldn't be up for talking but as long as he was eating that was all you could hope for, for now.

The sun was completely down by the time you reached the Inn so you headed straight to Mando's room to drop the food. Knocking twice before you placed the plate of food on the ground outside the door.

"Mando?" you called out, "I'm going to leave some food out here for you. You'll need to eat before we leave tomorrow."

Before you could completely turn to head back to your room, the door swung open and he stood tall in the frame. He looked at you, then down at the food, before reaching for it.

"Thank you," he said, the modulator hiding just how sincere he was being.

You offered a reassuring smile and when turning to head back to your room he called your name to stop you. You turned back to face him and he remained still in the doorway. There was a silence between you, long but not uncomfortable.

"I went on a walk out of town today. Was good to clear my head, do you want to go?" you asked, hoping he would say yes but understanding if he said no.

He nodded, before looking down at the plate in his hand.

"How about I go and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow, you eat that, then we go?" you offered and with a nod he closed the door behind him.

You made your way back to your room and sat in the quiet, everything already ready to go the next day. Your mind was wandering back to the thoughts of Mando earlier. You were sure that he felt for you the way you felt for him but should you say it? Make sure this is true before you let yourself fall any harder for him, if that was even possible? A short, sharp knock at the door brought you from your thoughts and you opened it to find Mando waiting for you. Grabbing your bottle filled with water from the table you headed out and led the way.

As you made your way through Mos Eisley, Mando's hand never left the small of your back. He pulled you closer to him when he could hear shouts coming from the Cantina and you stayed that way until you made it out of the town. The walk to the spot you sat at earlier was quiet with only a few "watch your feet" shared between you. When you finally reached the rock you had sat at earlier, you turned to him and motioned for him to join in sitting next to you.

"When was the last time you got to look at the stars?" you asked him.

He turned to you, his head tilting, "I see them every night?"

His seriousness made you laugh and cover your mouth to hide your amusement at his comment.

"No, Mando," you smiled, "I mean really looked at them, without this-" you pointed at his helmet.

"I can't remember."

He had explained to you how his helmet worked once before, when you felt brave enough to ask a question about it. He had told you that it wasn't like looking with your eyes, but through a scanner, showing heat and direction.

You moved from his side, round the rock enough so you couldn't see him or him you.

"You should look," you said.

You had always been respectful of his creed and values, never asking too many questions, but as the silence continued you began to worry you had overstepped. That was stopped by the sound of a clicking noise and the helmet being placed on the ground just within your sight. A warmth travelled through your body and you felt your heart beat faster at this one action that proved how much he trusted you. Knowing how uncomfortable he would be in this moment, you started to ramble on and tell stories of your life before your days travelling with Mando and the kid.

"I wanted to be just like my brother when I was younger. One night I heard him sneak out to go look at the stars. He was 5 years older than me and about twice my height but I still thought I could keep up with him. I ended up getting lost and finding myself at the end of some cliff. I was so loud in crying out for my brother I'm surprised I didn't wake up the whole village. He eventually found me and carried me home on his back. I don't know how he put up with me," you laughed.

"Where is your brother now?" Mando asked. He had never asked any many questions about your life before, you couldn't decide if it was because he didn't care or he wasn't used to holding conversations after spending years on his ship alone.

"He's a pilot for the New Republic, so... not really sure exactly."

"Is he the one who taught you how to fly?"

You smiled at his question, a little because you enjoyed him taking an interest but mostly because you could hear his voice without the modulator. It was still deep but softer, holding more emotion.

"Yes. My mum hated it, said I would get hurt. Which I did of course," you laughed.

A shiver ran through your body and you hadn't realised how cold the night had turned until now.

"You're cold," Mando stated.

"Yes, but I don't want to go. I'm comfy here," you almost winced at how desperate you sounded to spend more time with him like this.

"Close your eyes," he commanded. You did it without a second thought.

He stood, knowing you well enough to know you did everything he asked without thinking about it, always trusting him. At first you thought he was standing to remove his cloak to place over you but he placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Move forward," he said again.

You shifted away from the rock, not sure what he was doing, until you felt a warmth behind you. It was only then that you realised his helmet was not all he removed, his chest plate and gloves had been taken off too and with you now sitting between his legs he placed an arm around your stomach to pull you closer, the other hand resting on his thigh. His body was radiating enough heat to keep you both warm but ever the carer, he took off his cloak to place it over you like a blanket.

"Are your eyes still closed?" he asked, his breath warm on the back of your neck making your voice catch in your throat, so you replied with a nod instead.

"Open them," he said, his lips now so close you could feel them move against your neck as he spoke "I trust you."

You sighed in contentment, feeling tears pool at the corner of your eye. Everything you had worried about earlier, about whether he cared and loved you the way you cared and loved for him, disappeared in this one moment. He was completely vulnerable now and trusted you with his whole being. You both sat like that until you felt your eyelids become heavy. Mando must have sensed it and tightened his grip on you, his other hand grabbing your free one to hold.

"You can sleep. I've got you," he said, placing a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

That was enough to allow yourself to give in completely to him in that moment and thats how he held you till morning, glad that you were his and he was yours.

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 15

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, descriptions of violence and injuries 

“Clear the way people! Move now!!” Jimin shouted with authority as he ran alongside the stretcher that Namjoon was laid out on, you following close behind with a flurry of security flanking you. Once you all made it into the hospital, doctors came from what seemed like every direction to work on Namjoon while Jimin worked on locking down the hospital to keep it safe.

“You’re ok Joon, you’re ok,” you whispered to him when you heard a loud groan escape his throat. You figured that he was in pain from both the bullets inside of him and from whatever the doctors were doing to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look down at his chest. 

“Ok, he’s stable but it’s touch and go so we’re gonna have to get him into surgery now!” One of the doctors exclaimed. 

“First Lady Kim, you’re gonna wanna back up,” one of the nurses said to you and you nodded, standing up straight and backing up slightly but still holding onto Namjoon’s hand. The team of doctors counted to three before they all lifted the sheet that Namjoon was laying on and moved his body onto a hospital bed. 

“Y/N, you have to let him go,” Jimin said as he walked up behind you, gently taking ahold of your arm but you shook your head rapidly.

“I can’t leave him!” You exclaimed. 

“He has to go into surgery, he’ll be fine,” Jimin assured you, trying to pry you away from Namjoon but you just clutched onto his hand tighter.

“First Lady Kim, we’ll come tell you as soon as we have any news,” a doctor assured you. “But he needs to get into surgery right away.”

“...Ok,” you relented, fresh tears falling down your cheeks as you looked down at Namjoon and released his hand. You watched tearfully as the doctors and nurses swiftly wheeled the bed that Namjoon was on down the hallway, disappearing behind double doors that read ‘Only Medical Personnel Beyond This Point’. 

“Come on, we’ll wait in the waiting room,” Jimin said as he wrapped one arm around your waist and you leaned into him as he led you away from the blood-spattered ER.

Just as the two of you were about to head into the waiting room, you heard a flurry of commotion near the door and when you looked up, your eyes widened as it seemed like all of your worst fears were coming true.

“No,” you whispered, your head starting to hurt from how much this night was turning into a literal nightmare.  

“Oh my God,” Jimin whispered in shock and you broke out of his arms as you ran towards the door, almost colliding with the stretcher that Momo was laid out on. 

“Mo, are you ok?!” You screamed, the very sight of your best friend on a stretcher effectively freaking you out.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” she swore, holding up her left arm, which had a thick bandage wrapped around it. “I got hit by one of the bullets when it ricocheted off of the railing of the staircase but it’s a shallow wound.”

“Thank God,” you muttered, throwing your arms around her in a hug, which she returned happily.

“How’s Namjoon?” She questioned and the emergency worker who had been pushing the stretcher that Momo was on started to move again, so you walked with them.   

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “When we got here, the doctors stabilized him but he’s in really bad shape and they basically moved him into surgery as soon as they were sure that he was still breathing.” The emergency worker wheeled Momo into a free room, before bowing to you and walking out to give the two of you privacy. 

“What about Jungkook and Taehyung?” Momo asked and your eyes widened again.

“What about them?” You wondered.

“They got hit by bullets too,” Momo informed you and you couldn’t stop the gasp that slid past your lips. 

“I didn’t know that,” you said. “I was so focused on Joon, I probably didn’t even notice that they got wheeled in as well.”

“When the shooting started, I got hit and Jungkook pushed me down to try and cover me but then he got hit in the leg,” Momo recounted. “I think maybe in somewhere else too, then Taehyung tried to help the both of us and he ended up getting shot too. I’m not sure where though because I effectively passed out after that.”

“What the fuck?” You huffed in disbelief. “Do you know if anyone else is hurt?”

“Not sure,” Momo shrugged. “We were the only ones outside though, so I’m pretty sure it was only us.”

“I’m so sorry that you got caught in the literal crossfire,” you apologized and Momo shook her head instantly.

“Not your fault,” she said sternly. “It’s just some fucking psycho, nothing to do with you.”

“But still,” you shrugged and just before Momo could respond, a doctor stepped into the room. 

“I’m sorry First Lady Kim, but we need to work on extracting some bullet fragments from Ms. Hirai,” she said. 

“Of course,” you nodded before looking back at Momo. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

“Alright, and see if you can find out any updates on Jungkook, please?” She requested and you smiled softly.

“You know it,” you told her, leaning over and kissing her cheek before stepping out of the room. Once you were back out in the hallway, there was still the buzz of activity going on and you found yourself suddenly feeling faint as the reality of everything that had happened in the past hour began to set in. However, like the angel he is, Jimin was by your side in a second.

“Hey, you ok?” He wondered and you shook your head. 

“Feeling a little dizzy,” you admitted and Jimin’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t eaten since this morning before we left my place, have you?” He wondered and you shook your head. “Let’s go get you some water and a candy bar then, yeah?”

.................................................

About two hours later, you were sat in the waiting room with Jimin, still in your blood-stained dress with Jimin’s suit jacket hanging from your shoulders. Namjoon was still surgery as far as you knew, Momo was under anesthesia from getting the bullet pieces out of her arm, and you still hadn’t heard anything back on Namjoon’s, Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s conditions.

In the two hours that you had been waiting, the only thing that played in your mind was the argument that you and Namjoon had had before leaving the Blue House just a few hours ago. You couldn’t help but to be overcome with a huge sense of guilt, not for the shooting, but for how you had never noticed how Namjoon felt about loosing your son. You felt careless, self-centered, and like a terrible fucking wife. 

“Hey, you alright in there?” Jimin asked and you looked over at him, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even stop them.

“I had a miscarriage,” you blurted and Jimin’s eyes widened. 

“What? When?”

“A year ago,” you answered. “It happened a little while after Namjoon had announced his candidacy for President.”

“Do you want to maybe, talk about it?” Jimin asked cautiously and you nodded. 

“Once Namjoon decided to run for President, he was never home,” you began. “He was always at his campaign headquarters, or giving a speech, or out shaking hands with people. It was a hard adjustment for me because we went from being together all the time and being able to spend time together to seeing each other twice a month. About two months into campaigning though, I found out that I was pregnant and we were both so excited because we had always talked about having kids.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged you, reaching over and grabbing one of your hands in his. 

“One day, I was really insistent on him coming home and not working late because I was pregnant and emotional and just wanted my husband at home with me. He said that he needed to work and we ended up getting into this huge fight, and I went to bed angry at him. When I woke up, I was soaked in blood,” you said. “It was the most blood that I had ever seen in my life at once, up until tonight.”

“I’m so sorry baby bird,” he whispered, scooting closer to you and wrapping his free arm around your shoulders. 

“You know how Namjoon and I were arguing before we left the Blue House?” You wondered, knowing that he had probably heard the shouting and Jimin nodded. “Namjoon cheated that first time with Hyejin because after I had the miscarriage, I treated him like shit.”

“That’s no excuse for him to just go off and cheat on you though,” Jimin pointed out. 

“I know but it just all makes so much fucking sense now,” you huffed. “I pushed Namjoon away in order to cope with my grief, all while being oblivious to the fact that he was grieving too. It took years for Namjoon to really trust me and to trust our relationship and to trust the fact that he wasn’t going to have to leave me like he had to leave Hyejin, and I ruined all of that in a second.”

“You can’t blame yourself for all that’s happened between the two of you.”

“I’m not,” you assured him. “But I am realizing just how big of a role I played in all of this. I started it by hurting Namjoon, then he hurt me by cheating with Hyejin, then I hurt him again by telling him that our marriage would be a marriage in name only once we decided to do the arrangement when I knew full well that he was trying his best to earn my forgiveness back, and he hurt me by starting to sleep with other women once our marriage was open. It’s been a vicious ass cycle of us just hurting each other over and over again, and I feel fucking guilty that I let it go on this long. Now, he’s on an operating table with fucking bullet holes in his chest and his last words to me were ‘Fine’ in response to me saying that I really do want a fucking divorce!”

“Ok stop, you have to calm down,” Jimin told you firmly, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you there as you wrapped your arms around him as well. “Match my breathing.” You did so, taking slow and deep inhales before letting them out again. The two of you continued this for a few minutes, until your breathing returned to normal again. 

“I’m sorry for springing all of that on you,” you muttered against his shoulder and you felt him shake his head.

“Don’t be sorry baby, I know it’s a lot going on right now and you’re handling it the best that you can,” Jimin replied. You opened your eyes and saw a doctor walking into the waiting room, making you immediately let go of Jimin and stand up. Jimin did the same, the both of you turning to face the doctor.

“First Lady Kim,” the doctor said, bowing to you. “I’m Dr. Song.”

“Hello,” you greeted him. “How’s Namjoon?”

“President Kim’s injuries are just as bad as we anticipated them to be, if not worse,” Dr. Song announced grimly. “He lost a lot of blood, and the bullets did extensive damage to his chest cavity. As a result, he’s now in a coma.”

“A coma?” You squeaked. “And how long is that going to last?”

“Well, only time can tell,” Dr. Song shrugged. “We were able to get all of the bullets out but the damage is so bad that his body just cannot handle extended surgery right now so although we know that the damage was bad, we aren’t exactly sure to what extent and that makes it hard to estimate.” 

“Oh, what about Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook?” You asked and the doctor grimaced.

“Mr. Jeon was hit in the leg and although it’s pretty bad from what I heard, he’ll be fine with some intensive physical therapy in order to regain full, functional use of his left leg,” Dr. Song said. “As for Kim Taehyung, his injuries were a bit more extensive.”

“How much more extensive?” Jimin spoke up. 

“He was hit in the shoulder and in the stomach, which are two particularly dangerous places to be shot in,” Dr. Song replied. “He’s still in surgery as of right now, but he was stable when he was brought in.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Song,” you thanked him and he just nodded softly.

“As soon as I find out any more news on the three of them, you’ll be the first person to know,” Dr. Song assured you and you smiled softly as he bowed again before turning and walking out of the waiting room. You then turned back to Jimin, fresh tears falling from your eyes again and Jimin just held his arms open, allowing you to follow into them.

“This is like a nightmare,” you sobbed, making Jimin just wrap his arms tighter around you.

.................................................

“Y/N-ah, I know that you’re upset but don’t make a dumb decision,” Yoongi spat as he paced in front of you, and you looked up at him with a glare.

“All I wanna do is make a statement to the press about Namjoon’s, Taehyung’s, Jungkook’s, and Momo’s conditions,” you said. “I didn’t realize that doing that would be counted as stupid.”

“Usually, it wouldn’t be but given the fact that someone just tried to kill your husband a few hours ago, it’s dumb,” Yoongi said and you looked over at Jimin for help, only to see him with a hard frown on his face.

“I agree,” Jimin spoke up, knowing that you were trying to get help from him. “It’s too dangerous right now, especially since we still haven’t caught whoever did it. Can’t you just release a statement through the Blue House?”

“Look, Namjoon has never shied away from anything regarding this job and since whoever did this has made it to where he can’t stand up for himself, I’m going to be the one to do it for him,” you stated firmly. 

“Y/N-,” Yoongi started to say but you cut him off. 

“Look, I’m not going to debate about this any longer. Now, either we can be smart about this and you can set up the press and Jimin can arrange proper security measures, or you can both be stupid and let me go out there alone. Either way, I’m still going out there.”

“Jimin-ssi?” Yoongi said gruffly and both of you looked over at him, seeing the internal struggle that he was going through.

“....Fine,” he finally relented and you smiled at him. “We’ll get someone up here with extra clothes for you while I go and make the necessary arrangements.”

“Thank you,” you told him and he nodded stiffly at you before getting up and walking away.

45 minutes later, you were standing near the entrance of the hospital, watching through the window as Yoongi addressed the crowd of reporters, journalists and camera people. 

“We all set?” You wondered as you turned to face Jimin and he nodded as he listened to whoever was talking to him through his earpiece.

“About one more minute,” he said as he turned to face you, reaching out and fixing the lapel of the blazer that you had changed into. “Remember Y/N, I’m giving you one minute out there to say whatever you need to say and if I so much as see someone move wrong, I’m not above running to you and dragging you back in here, got it?”

“Got it,” you nodded, a soft smile coming onto your face when Jimin leaned forward and kissed your lips lightly. 

“Alright, come on,” Jimin said, pushing open the hospital door and allowing you to walk out first. He stayed close to you, the two of you walking over to the makeshift podium that the hospital had set up outside. Yoongi lightly tapped your hand as the two of you passed each other, and you stepped up onto the podium while Jimin, Yoongi, and the rest of your security flanked the podium. 

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice and at such a late hour,” you began your statement, looking out into the crowd as you spoke into the microphone. “As I’m sure all of you are aware, my husband, President Kim Namjoon, was shot tonight as we made our way to a Children’s Benefit. While the President’s injuries are extensive, he is still alive. However, he is now in a coma as a result of his injuries and we are not sure how long it will take him to wake up as of now.”

“In addition to my husband’s injuries, my personal secretary Momo Hirai, Chief of Staff Kim Taehyung, and Minster of Economy and Finance Jeon Jungkook all sustained injuries in the shooting as well. Now, any questions?” All of the reporters and journalists hands went up in the air and you randomly pointed to a small woman in the front. “Yes?”

“What is the extent of both Minster Jeon’s and Chief of Staff Kim’s injuries?” She questioned. “From the footage that exists, it looked like they were both injured pretty badly.”

“For privacy reasons, I am not allowed to disclose that information as their families are still being contacted and notified,” you said, pointing to a man in the back who had his hand up. 

“As President Kim will be presumably be out of commission for a while, even after waking up from this coma, do you think he’ll resume his Presidential duties?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t exactly say. However, I do know that serving our great country and the people that live in it has been my husband’s greatest mission in life so I think even if he can’t resume his duties as soon as he wakes up, Prime Minster Min has his full confidence.”

“And you?” Another reported spoke up. “Does he have your full confidence?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded. “Prime Minster Min was endorsed personally by my husband and they share the same sense of duty so I believe that our country will be in great hands while my husband recovers. Now, one last question.” You said as you pointed towards a middle aged man that stood near the middle of the crowd. 

“In regards to the people who did this, what do you want to happen to them once they are caught?” He wondered. “I only ask because your husband has notoriously been against death sentences and I’d like to know your thoughts.” You tilted your head to the side lightly, thinking about the question for a few seconds.

“I hope that they burn in hell,” you smiled, a flurry of sound coming from the crowd and an increase of camera flashes started to happen. “No further questions.”

.................................................

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[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.9

TW Purposeful misgendering of MC, and overall skeevy first POV.

MC is agender and here I started this chapter with the POV of someone out right misgendering them.

Capital He/Him pronouns are associated with Slender.

He was angry, but then again when wasn't He. You've wasted too much time on “laying low”. And now He's getting impatient, you're starting to hear whispers about potential replacements and incompetency. First you fuck up your mission then you gave Him the subpar sacrifice of that dumb hippie. He didn't want her, He wanted her. Her being your current and original target.

The girl who moved to town in the middle of March, YN. Didn't wait for the month to end or come the first week of the new one. Such a strange time to move...almost as if she was running away from something. He had taken an interest in her immediately. You didn't see what was so special about her, just another mousy girl in a small town, very obedient from what you saw.

Maybe that's what caught His attention. A new little puppet to add to His collection...but His urgency with this task didn't really fit. You knew for a fact He wasn't human but...could He have desires of the flesh? Was this a twisted perversion of your god's? The fuzzy feeling in your head gets painful at the thought.

'Ok, you aren't after some ass.' you think trying to appease Him.

It doesn't work, your apology is almost as worthless as you are to Him in this moment. You've really been testing Him lately, understandably this is your last chance so to speak. Bring Him YN or you won't be His problem much longer.

A chill runs down your spine at the ill intent you feel through your contract.

You're working on it, really you are. But she's so stupid and air headed it will take a while to break her for Him to be able to properly mold her. Not to mention she seems to have acquired a new guard dog. One that seems to have problems staying still, yet will spend hours watching her.

You'd seen him around town a few times in the past week or two, he has two other companions who aren't as bad about keeping low profiles. Yeah, you'd seen each of them at her house at one point or another. The short one seemed to have a nasty habit of slinking into her home in the dead of night as she slept. He didn't seem to go in during her drives, only when she'd be there. The tall one would come in the early morning or middle of the day, either to retrieve his partner or to snoop around inside for a bit before leaving. Aside from his partner he never seemed to leave with anything, never went in with anything either. They weren't leaving traces so they couldn't be your replacements.

Even if they had been they didn't seem too tough, you could over take them easy. Show Him you were still good for something.

But worst of all was her fucking mutt. He'd just circle the outside of the house, inspecting it. For what you have no clue, but he kept at it like he had a keen eye and could detect the slightest change of the home. One day he started looking off into the tree line and you'd almost swear he knew where you were. And while his nearly all black eyes made you think he was your replacement, intimidating you, your god suggested otherwise.

Reminding you that they weren't breaking her down for Him. That was your job.

Not only was the twink annoyingly thorough when at her home but he seems to have followed her to work today. You hope this isn't a new habit for him, you'll need to catch YN off guard at some point and you can't do that with that stupid twitching bastard around.

He bought two books and YN had seemed surprised when he came up to chat with her after finishing the first one. She's not your normal type but you can't deny she is cute talking so excitedly, you really wish that fucking mask was off her face so you could see her plump lips move. Come to think of it, twitchy was also wearing a mask. Is that why she talks so freely with him? Was all you had to do to get close to her was wear a mask? Or did she have a little crush on this guy?

No, she's speaking the same way she would with one of the Hornets. He however has a certain look in his eye while they talk. Maybe someone does have a crush...Or maybe he's just a disgusting stalker like you are. Were, like you were that is before your god saw the potential in you. And blessed you as one of his followers.

If he is a creepy little stalker tailing her you could let him do the breaking, and then you'd swoop in for the kill. Would that take too long? Better yet would your god even be happy with the idea. He can get very touchy about plans, down to the tiniest details too. You've witnessed first hand what He does to those who leave gaps for targets to get through.

Reprogramming doesn't seem pleasant. But that'll be the least of your worries if you don't get a move on with delivering Him His choice of offering. In the years you've been of service to your god...you don't recall Him ever choosing his offering. A target yes of course plenty, but His next puppet or a special meal. No this was big, testing your worth probably, very big.

'And you're failing.' that voice isn't yours.

'How, astute.' He's chatty today. That's always a bad thing. For you anyway.

You turn your attention to the bookshop across the street, coffee shops make such great covers especially when you add a laptop and act as though you're writing a novel, no one spares you a glance. It's five and that means quitting time, maybe YN wouldn't go home right away. You could run into her and plant some seeds of paranoia in her.

Mess with her head, have her freak out and cause a scene in town to discredit her further in the future. Your typical MO. After all she is just the simple new girl in town, and small town residents don't trust easy.

'This should be fun.' you think as you pack up your computer and notebook.

Heading to your car you wait in the parking lot for a moment, making it look as though you were busy with your phone while you waited to see that ugly yellow car drive in one direction or another. It doesn't take long before you catch sight of the brightly colored Kia taking the road towards the general store.

Wonderful, one humiliating panic attack in public coming up. This was something you could manage perfectly on your own. Though maybe once your god was more pleased with you, you'd ask for His assistance in giving her a few more hallucinations. After all the faster she's broken down the faster He gets what He wants.

Once at the small store you park one space away from her Kia. Normally for targets you prefer if they don't notice your car but it's not like there's room to go else where in this parking lot. Just as you're about to make your way inside, you hear more murmuring.

How the hell are you supposed to do His bidding when all He seems to want to do is keep interfering? It's getting so frustrating that you're starting to question your god's intelligence.

For your insolence you are hit hard with the worst migraine you've ever gotten since taking up a contract with Him.

'You are not the only one following them.' is the biting retort.

Moving your head despite the pain, you scan the store through squinted eyelids as you stand just out of your car. And you catch sight of him, that twitching guard dog from before. He hasn't noticed you but he seems to be sharing a cart with YN.

Did she get a boyfriend? Were you just unaware of that detail this entire time? She seems too relaxed with him for that to be anything else. They look too domestic together, you'll have fun ripping them apart. She'll probably cry like the bitch she is when you do, that's a very nice picture.

'Leave.' what now?

'Leave before he catches on to you.' The twitchy twink? You could take him in a fight, kid is practically all bones, why should you leave?

Instead of an answer your migraine intensifies. For the first time in years you are racked with so much pain that you would've collapsed on the ground if your car hadn't been near to steady yourself.

A chime of a bell sounds, “Hey pal you alright there?”, it's just Leo. Luckily you've never shopped at his store so likely hood of him knowing who you are or mentioning this to anyone isn't high.

“Ah...yeah,” you say through the wincing, “real bad migraine.”

“I got some Excedrin-”

“I'll just come back later.” you cut him off and get back into your car. Movement isn't easy for you under all this pain but you can feel His presence in your mind gaining control. You'll either wake up back in your bed or on the forest floor covered in blood and ticks. You really hope it isn't the last one as you black out just as you turn onto 3rd Avenue.

Leo comes back into the store almost as soon as he ran out.

“Everything ok?” you ask. You'd seen the man run out when you turned around to ask if he had gluten free vegetable stock.

“Yea, some tourist must'a got car sick or somethin'.” you nod at his gruff reply.

“Oh, do you have any gluten free vegetable stock?”

The old man eyes you warily.

“Kid don' tell me ya got on one a those fad diets.”

“No it's for the Picnic next week. I wanted to make an all diet friendly foragers pie.” you said shaking your head, which snaps right twice. Behind you you hear a muffled clucking coming from Toby.

Toby had hung out at the shop with you today. After he read through The Son of Neptune the two of you had discussed the series for a bit before you almost let some spoiler slip through. Toby couldn't help but laugh when you pushed him into a reading nook to finish reading the series before you ruined it for him. He got two thirds of The Mark of Athena done before you clocked out for the day.

While leaving he mentioned he needed to go shopping and asked where the grocery store in town was because he hadn't seen one in the area. You offered to take him to Leo's shop because it had everything you could need and was a small local business. Like most things in Kepler but there was a Trader Joe's that opened up in town, and they don't have much to offer when you cook from scratch. So here you were shopping together.

“I think we have organic no clue if it's vegan though.”

“Gluten free.” Leo rolls his eyes in dismissal and goes off to find the organic broth for you.

“Was there anything else you needed to grab?” you asked turning to look at Toby.

He had a list with him and had been ripping small tears to cross off what he'd gotten. He nods once then twice as his eyes find items he had yet to find, until they stop near the bottom of the list. Toby's dark brown eyes roll so hard you're pretty sure they rolled to the back of his skull. He lets out a dramatic 'agh' sound at whatever was on the list. Before crumbling it and tossing it into the cart.

“Atomic Fireballs and eggs. Can you grab the candy? Some people get pissy about their eggs.” he says cutting his eyes to the cooler containing eggs. This is probably a regular argument with the group.

With a small nod and an “mmhmm” you run off to the candy isle. You smell the cinnamon candy before you even see the container on the shelf. Before running off back to Toby and the cart, you pause debating if you should grab some M&Ms or chocolate chips to make cookies for tomorrow's movie night. You had stress eaten the snacks you bought last week only having the Surge left for Kirby, like hell you would drink it yourself.

After the week you've had baking sounded really nice. The mind numbing activity would probably be therapeutic since you haven't baked in so long. You grab two of the bigger bottles of mini M&Ms they always taste better to you, plus mini cookies tend to be a bigger hit than their regular sized counter parts. On your way to the front of the store you pass an end cap for chips. Seeing the white cheddar popcorn you like you grab a bag to replace the one you ate earlier in the week.

You should be set now, as long as Leo had the broth. If he didn't gluten free broth seems like something the Trader Joe's would have.

Toby's already at the counter with Leo, who had a box of broth off to the side. Noice. You place the Atomic candy on the counter with the rest of Toby's items. Leo looks between the two of you but brushes off whatever thought or comment he had.

“This it for you kid?”Leo has already begun ringing him out.

You see the movement of Toby's mouth open while he double checks the cart, he closes it when he sees the wad of paper. He must have forgotten something. Going over your own list you double check to make sure you have everything before it's your turn.

“N-n-n-no, can I-I-I get two boxes of condoms? St-s-st-standard and Large.” Toby's popping his knuckles a little more aggressively than normal, well what you've equated to normal for Toby.

'Oh.' the add ons sort of surprise you, but his exaggerated sigh from earlier makes more sense. Why did you even think that eggs caused that sort of reaction? It was probably because he was gonna have to ask for condoms in front of you. His new friend, nearly a stranger. Toby's agitated tics and stuttering are very valid right now.

You miss the look Leo gives you but Toby doesn't and when Leo looks back at him his tics get more frequent.

Looking to Toby when his 'mrrow' tic keeps repeating, you see the tips of his ears are a soft pink. A stark contrast to their normally grayish white complexion. Wanting to help but knowing he's most likely just embarrassed you decide to say nothing and ignore the situation. Thankfully Leo doesn't make any type of comment either as he finishes ringing out Toby and hands him his receipt.

“This it kid?” He says as he starts checking out your items.

“Um...ah, what's the pizza today?” this week isn't your normal pizza week but with the Picnic being next weekend you probably won't do pizza next week. And you have to have a slice ready for Chonk, least he decides to see what human taste like.

“Spinach and mushroom, a white pizza.”

“Yea I'll take one of those then please.”

“Garlic crust?” How very dare this man. What kind of question is that.

“Of course.”

He leaves to the back of the store yet again to retrieve your pizza. There's a silence that falls over the store as he leaves, leaving only you and Toby out front. Not an awkward type of silence but you definitely aren't going to risk a glance at Toby right now.

“I threw in an extra for that stray you've been feeding.” He says as he returns. Toby having calmed down a bit scoffs at the stray comment.

“That isn't a-a-a stray it's a fucking dem-mon.”

“Ok like that's fair, but he is kinda cute.”

“I don't care what it is, just keep it away from my store.” Leo finishes ringing you up. “Bad for business to have a wild animal rooting through the garbage.” Leo doesn't care about that stuff he also fears Chonk, and all his trash panda glory.

Once you settled your tab with Leo you and Toby go out to your car. You place his items in the backseat while you take the trunk, so no one goes home with the wrong item. Stars forbid you end up with the condom bag and have to awkwardly give that to Toby or even worse Brian or Tim. You've had four interactions with the man but already you can hear Brian's teasing banter.

Getting situated in the car you hand your phone to Toby to pick the music. You'd left your entire library open this time and not just the home page, you wanted to see if he'd pick something different or just go with the last thing played. He did scroll a bit before just clicking the last played playlist. Well at least he looked, maybe you'd make a playlist and see what he liked. He could just enjoy the songs.

While you're stuck at the light waiting to turn you remember consciously that Saturday Night Dead is tomorrow. You wonder if the trio would be joining you all. Wouldn't hurt to ask.

“Hey so are you guys coming over to the Cryptonomica tomorrow night?”

“Tim and Brian are.” Toby's eyes glance at the window as he picks at the skin around his nails.

“Oh. Why aren't you coming?” you hope you don't sound too pushy.

“Hi, I'm Toby I have Tourette's.” He says in a deadpan.

“Nice to meet you, I'm YN I have Autism.” you sass back cutting your eyes to him, “and I have tics too remember.”

“You can sit beside me. The gang never mentions my ticcing or stimming during a movie and I sit in the corner to be less of a distraction.”

From the corner of your eye you can see he peeled off a bit of skin and is now bleeding. When you slow down at the light you reach over him to the glove box and pull out a box of band-aids. Tossing the box in his lap you focus back on the road. There's a cracking sound when Toby's shoulder pop from a tic but other than that you two fall into a lull in the conversation.

From the corner of your eye you see Toby put the box in the cup holders between you. This little shit, just because he doesn't feel pain doesn't mean picking his skin is a healthy fidget.

“...I..I'll think about it.” he's still picking at his skin but maybe reassurance will help him calm down.

“Well, I hope I see you tomorrow then,” you can't help the grin on your face, you're just a touch giddy at the fact you've made a friend this fast. “No pressure though.” can't be too pushy you might scare him off.

You hear a huff as he turns more of his body to look out the window. He isn't upset his energy feels calm almost excited, it's nice to meet someone who isn't so confusing with their actions. Though you'd wish he wouldn't try to hide them. Maybe you both have the same idea of not wanting to overwhelm the other right away. You get the feeling this situation...your blooming friendship with Toby, it isn't something he's use to.

Getting to the RV you help Toby carry in the groceries, despite his protests that he can do it. It was just machismo of course, because once inside the RV you noticed how clean it was for three bachelors and their huge dog living in it. Sure there were dishes in the sink but dishes are a care chore that never ended. There was very little clutter that you saw but you also weren't paying close attention since you were just helping bring in groceries and not here for a visit. It would be rude to look, you think.

Once all of the boys' bags were brought in and either on the counter or table you saw a majority of them had blood smears all on the handles. Fucking Toby, you gave him band-aids for a reason.

“Tobais you're bleeding.”

“Thanks Captain obvious.” you want to smack him.

“Do you guys have a first aid kit?”

“Nope.” he sounds so smug when he pops the 'p' sound.

“Ok, then I'll go get the band-aids out of my car and you wash your hands.”

“Don'-uwu- Don't worry about it.”

You have to bite your lip so you don't laugh but the small stream of air coming from your nose let Toby know you were laughing. Despite his mask you can see his pout clearly when he turns to you.

“I...I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't...but it's too,” your giggling is breaking down your ability to speak, “cute.”

The grumpy face sort of melts off of the boy in front of you, but you can tell by the vibes he's still touchy. You try to calm yourself but quickly realize you aren't giggling anymore because of his tic.

“C'mon it isn't even that funny.” he says gruffly, before looking off to the side.

“No...it's,” you keep shaking your head as the movement doesn't stop. The loop won't stop and you're starting to tear up from the muscles in your abdomen seizing up then relaxing in repetition.

Toby seems to realize what's happened.

“No fucking way.” is all he says as he comes closer to your still giggling form. “A giggling tic?” You can only nod, you're starting to get light headed. Toby noticing you starting to crouch down, helps ease you to sit. He stays by your side as you both wait for the tic to cease.

He even tries rubbing a hand on your back to soothe you into calming down. You'll need to tell him physical comfort doesn't really help you. It's still sweet of him to try.

Unlike a laughing fit that will have a gradual die down of the action, your laughing tic has an abrupt stop. But you feel just as tired and even more sick than someone who just got out of a laughing fit. Breath coming out hitched though you try to gasp in more air to soothe your impending headache. Your face is red and covered in tear stains, once again you are thankful for your mask. This isn't a tic you get often but you probably hate this one the most, just from how drained it leaves you.

Toby continues to rub circles into your back as your breathing starts to even. Eventually he gets up to grab you some water. You notice it's quiet in the RV, not even Connor is around Brian must have him today.

“That was probably karma.” he says as he hands you the glass. Looking up to him confused he continues, “For teasing me about my tic.”

“But I w-wa-,” you take a large gulp of water for the raspiness of your voice, “I wasn't teasing. I just thought 'uwu' was a cute vocal tic.” you say indignantly.

Really you had only thought the verbal tic was cute. Also it'd been a while since you heard 'uwu' said aloud so it caught you off guard.

“Not as cute as a giggling tic.” who's teasing who now.

“Haha, don't get used to it doesn't happen often.”

After settling down from you tic it's time to head home. You really don't want to over stay your welcome. The fatigue is also starting to set in and you want to get home before it really hits.

Toby is nothing if not a gentleman you've noticed. And he continues to be on brand as he walks you back to your car.

“So thanks for that.” vaguely motioning as if to say 'y'know' with your hands rather than your words. Toby knows, you can tell from that boyish glint in his eyes.

“Hope to see you tomorrow night.” you say getting back into your car.

“It's sounding better now.” there's a pause, “Get home safe.” he slaps the interior of your window before backing away from your car altogether.

With a final wave you back out back onto the old dirt road and drive on home. When you get home you realize you never patched up Toby's hand, now you have a small bloodstain on your door.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 14

Chapter 14 folks. And Lysandra and Aedion are here as well <3

------

A few days had passed and finally the big day had arrived. Lysandra and Aedion were on their way. Aelin was pacing in the small arrivals section of Stornoway airport and kept looking at the screen for the status of the flight from Glasgow. Lysandra and Aedion were on their way and she was excited. Finally the status changed to on approach and Aelin was now full on restless. She hadn’t seen them in a while and was dying to hug Lys again and spend two weeks with her best friend and catch up.

Rowan had stayed behind at the bookshop but they were going to him after they had dumped everything at her place. She had offered them her spare bedroom. She had the space so why not? Also, she loved the idea of sharing a flat with Lysandra again. She was hoping to have time to just be with her and in her heart she was begging for Rowan and Aedion to get along so she could get the boys together and be alone with Lysandra. Twenty minutes passed and the screen had been flashing landed for a while when she finally heard her name by a voice that she would have recognised everywhere. “Lys.” She shouted and ran for her friend and hugged her savagely making a scene in front of all the other passengers. The two girls hugged for a solid five minutes until Aedion cleared his throat. Aelin finally detached and gave the man a hug “It’s nice to see you as well.” “It’s fine Ace, I am used to be an afterthought when it comes to you two.” Aelin grabbed some of the bags “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” The drive home was short and sweet and the two women had spent the time catching up, something that would probably take the whole two weeks. Aedion had sat in silence, knowing full well how much Lysandra had missed Aelin. They finally arrived at Aelin’s place and they all got in and Lysandra was staring at the place in amazement. “Aelin, this place is wonderful.” “Just renting it for now, but yes I love it.” Aelin took her friends upstairs, gave them a tour and showed them their bedroom “the bathroom is at the end of the corridor” “Are we going to meet Rowan?” Lysandra was dying to finally be introduced to the guy. Aelin had kept her posted on her development with her two guys and also sent her some of the pictures she had taken of him during their trip. “We are going to the bookshop as soon as you two are ready to get out again. Take your time, I am downstairs.” Aelin left them and went back downstairs and texted Rowan They are here. We are at my place. We will be there in about an hour I think. His reply did not come straight away Busy. I will see you in a bit. I am looking forward to meet your friends. Forty minutes later the couple came down stairs all changed and ready to go. “Rowan is waiting for us.” Added Aelin with excitement. She had been counting down the days to this since Lys had told her over the phone that they were coming. They left and started walking to the bookshop and Aelin acted as guide and was pointing at places and telling them stories as if she had live there all her life. Ten minutes later they were at the shop “Tadaaa” “Is that him?” Lysandra whispered when she spotted a man with silver hair through the window and Aelin smiled in reply. “Holy fuck, young lady, not a single one of the pictures you sent me do him any justice.” “I am standing here, by the way.” Protested Aedion, feeling left out. “Yes, darling, I know.” She kissed him tenderly. “Seriously, you really hit the jackpot.” Aelin laughed and turned to Aedion “you know she loves you right?” Lysandra turned to him a kissed him again “I’ll prove you tonight I much I love you.” And a massive grin spread on his face, while Aelin pretended not to hear. As soon as they entered Aelin felt Rowan’s arms around her waist and a soft kiss on her lips “Hi you.” “Back at you.” She said returning the kiss. Then she pulled away and made the introductions “Lysandra, Aedion, this is Rowan.” She turned to him “Ro, these are my friends.” “Welcome to Stornoway, guys.” Lysandra stared at him and heat flushed through her. His accent added to his already high level of hotness, together with the awesome tattoo sneaking up his arm. Damn the man was sex made real. She had to get a grip. She had Aedion and she loved him. “We are so happy to be here.” “And I am glad there is another guy here. I would have risked to have two week of holidays by myself.” Aedion joked grabbing Lysandra by her waist and pulling her to him. “Cheeky.” “Babe, I love you but when it comes to you and Aelin, most of times I am the third wheel.” When a customer came in, Aelin made a move to go an d serve him but Rowan stopped her “Stay with your friends.” Aelin gave Lys and Aedion a tour of the place and they loved it showing with pride her displays. “So this is where you work just now.” Lysandra said almost beaming at her friend. “You seem happy, much happier than when you left.” And took her hand. “I am…” and her gaze landed on Rowan and Aedion gave them some privacy and pretended to browse some books. “So are you two…” Aelin shook her head “We are taking it slowly, no labels or anything. And we haven’t… you know… that… yet.” “How can you resist it? Have you seen him?” Lysandra pointed out. “We have a promise.” Aelin explained and when she noticed Lysandra’s expression she expanded a bit “It’s a long story, but it will happen but not until the correct conditions are met.” “By the way… his hands…” and Aelin laughed and remembered the day in the office. “I know, they are wonderful.” And winked at her friend. “So you did something.” “Of course, we are taking it slowly, but not that slowly.” “Is he good?” Asked Lysandra who was getting super curious. Aelin gave her a huge grin. “You naughty girl.” The two women were chatting away when the boys joined them again and Rowan held Aelin from behind and put his chin on her shoulder “If you guys are hungry, this is the time when we usually close for lunch. We can go to my aunt’s.” Aelin turned and threw her arms around Rowan’s neck “Fooood. I knew I chose you for a reason.” Lysandra stared at her friend and was stunned by how much she had changed. She had never seen her like that. Not even when things with Chaol were good, she appeared that happy. She was different. A good different and that made her super relieved. The last memories she had of Aelin were of someone heartbroken in more ways than one. “I am starving,” said Aedion. Lysandra and Aedion left the shop and Aelin and Rowan followed after having closed the doors. He grabbed her hand “Let’s go.” A few minutes later they were at the cafe. “Maeve is Rowan’s aunt.” Explained Aelin while they entered the place. It was quite busy that day but they managed to get a table for four. Maeve joined them a moment later with the menus. “We have guests today. These are Lysandra and Aedion. They are my friends from London.” Aelin made the introductions. “Welcome guys. These are the menu. Take your time to order.” “The food here is great.” Aelin told them and she heard Rowan chuckle. “Any problems?” “You would know if the food is good. You already tried it all, twice.” And he flicked her nose tenderly. “Did you forget to take your ‘be nice’ pills today?” She jested and Lysandra was staring at her friend in fascination. “But I love seeing getting all worked up for nothing, mo chridhe.” And he kissed her gently. “Was that Gaelic? The last thing you said, by the way.” Asked Lysandra not understanding the last thing Rowan said. Aelin nodded. “I am sorry, but it’s so sexy.” And she blushed savagely. Rowan laughed out loud “I’ll take it as a compliment.” They finally ordered the food and after a while it arrived. “This looks awesome.” Commented Aedion who was really starving. They had left London very early and had it felt like their breakfast had been a lifetime ago. “So, I had a look at some of the things we can do while you guys are here and I thought about a little side trip.” Aelin explained, pulling out her guide from the backpack “I was thinking a four days trip and head for North Uist.” Then she turned to Rowan “Can it be done?” Rowan nodded enthusiastically “I have a better plan,” he offered and Aelin nodded eagerly he was the local, he had a better idea of what could be done. “Day one, we can head south, catch the second ferry in the morning and in an hour we are on North Uist and we can hang about the north.” He explained “Day two we can drive the whole length of North and South Uist. They are basically loads of islands connected by causeways. Day three, we can venture all the way to Barra. If we leave early in the morning we can catch the first ferry our. Spend the day on the island and come back with the last ferry. It’s June and the days are super long. Day four me come back, but we can take them to some nice places on Lewis.” “Why did I even bother buying a guide, when I have you?” She touched his hand and he grinned back. Lysandra clapped her hands excited “I trust you two. I mean I am open to anything.” “Me too.” Added Aedion. “And there’s beaches” Rowan added and Aelin looked at him “Huge ones.” “What? Better than Luskentyre?” Rowan nodded and Aelin’s mouth fell open “How is that even possible?” “What is Luskentyre?” Asked Aedion curious. “It’s this incredible, stunning, amazing beach. We’ll go there, I promise.” Explained Aelin remembering the first time she went there. “Can we swim?” This time it was Lysandra. Rowan was dubious. He could but he was not sure they could take it “It’s June. If we get a good day, chances are it will be warm but the water might not be that as warm. We are still talking about the Atlantic Ocean.” “But we can suntan? I need to loose my Londoner’s pallor.” Then she looked at Aelin who had gained a bit of colour “Like her.” Rowan for a moment imagined Aelin in a swimsuit. He pushed the image away because they were in public and with friends. “Could you close the shop for four days?” Rowan nodded “I haven’t taken a holiday in a very long time. I don’t care.” And his arm went around her shoulder and she gave him a wonderful smile that almost stopped his heart. “Logistics,” continued Aelin who was having a great time planning the time away with Rowan and her friends “How about a self catering. We get a cottage so we have more freedom?” “I know some places.” Added Rowan “I know one that has a view of the sands from the living room. And the path to the beach is not far away. I can get in touch with them.” “Please.” Said the two women in unison. “Let us know the price and we’ll share. I am paying for Lys. This is kinda a very belated birthday present for her.” And he kissed her tenderly. “Ok, today is Wednesday,” said Rowan “Can we do Friday? I have to go to the school tomorrow.” And he turned to Aelin “I am going for my instructor trial tomorrow morning.” Then he turned to Aedion “you can come with me so the ladies can have some time alone.” “Thanks man, our girls need a few hours of crazy gossiping.” “Lysandra and I can man the shop.”Aelin grinned wildly. “Ohhh I would love that. Yes, please.” Lysandra stared at Rowan with puppy eyes. “Can we trust them?” Joked Rowan talking to Aedion. He had a good feeling about the guy at liked him from the beginning. “It’s your shop, man. I hope you are insured.” Rowan and Aedion laughed while the two women glared at them. “You two are horrible.” Said Lysandra. Aedion hugged her “Yes, but you love me.” “Maybe,” she pouted.

The next morning Lysandra and Aelin were ready for their morning alone in the shop and for some well deserved gossiping. The boys were away and they finally had some time alone. “I love this, by the way.” Said Lysandra looking around the bookstore “Rowan has done an amazing job.” Aelin nodded and went to open the door and noticed one of their regulars. She collected the order for the woman and Lysandra studied her friend at work. She seemed a natural. When she was free again, Lysandra decided to begin “So, you and Rowan. Are you seriously telling me that you guys are not together? I have seen how he looks at you. And when he told you that sweet thing in Gaelic? Hell Aelin, that man is crazy about you.” Aelin took a seat next to Lysandra. “I know.” She sighed “And I am madly in love with him. We both know our feelings.” “So why the breaks?” Aelin’s stare was fixed outside the window “Because until a few days ago Elias was still in the picture. Because we both had bad past relationship and both need to take it slowly for once. Neither of us wants to fuck up this one. So no labels for now. Just let it develop as it goes. And I love it. I love him, Lys, so badly that it hurts.” “I can see that.” Lysandra caressed Aelin’s head “And I can see he does too.” Then she took her friend’s hand “I don’t think I have ever seen you so happy. Not even with police guy.” Aelin squeezed Lysandra’s hand back. “And please let’s discuss how that man is sex on two legs, now that I had some time to study him in real life.” Aelin barked a laugh “I am glad Aedion is not here.” “Seriously. One: his hands. The things he could do with them. Two: the backside. He should have a permit because that thing is a weapon that could kill.” Aelin kept laughing. She missed this. They used to discuss together the guy they were interested in, but it was the first time Lysandra was so openly excited about one of her men. “Three… is he a god or something? His body, have you seen him? Imagine him naked…” and Lysandra fanned herself with her hands. Aelin thought back at the day in his office when he had his polo shirt off. “He used to be a professional swimmer, he almost made it to the Olympics.” “Holy mother of all fucks.” And Aelin had missed Lysandra’s colourful language of when she was shocked. “So that’s why the swimming thing for the school?” Aelin nodded “Bad injury. Had to give up.” “Drat, that’s awful.” “Anyway, if you let him go I am coming back here and I’ll thump you.” They were chatting away when the door opened and Elias entered the shop. Aelin almost chocked on the coffee she was sipping. “Good morning,” he said in a very cheery voice and gave Aelin a huge smile. Then he turned to Lysandra “Is it me or Rowan is all of a sudden more gorgeous than I remember?” Aelin giggled “This is Lysandra, she is here visiting.” Then turned to her friend “Lys, this is Elias.” Lysandra’s mouth fell open “Hi…” she managed “I heard a lot about you.” “Good things I hope.” Lysandra nodded. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” “Aye lass, but I have a very tedious meeting coming up in two hours and a desperate need for books.” He leaned against the counter with his hands. “You need book two of The cursed Kingdom?” “And three, and four.” Elias added. Aelin jumped off the chair and went to get the books and Elias followed her at the shelves “Love the display. Are you trying to break everyone’s heart by recommending this series?” “No,” she handed him the books “I am just teaching islanders what a good Fantasy series looks like.” They walked back to the counter under the strict stare of Lysandra. “Can I at least hope in an happy ending? Because the angst so far is killing me.” Aelin put the books in a bag and handed them to him “Nope. As I said, buy wine. And prepare for the worst angst in history. And I am not telling you how it finishes.” “Ok, the warrior guy cannot die and he needs to end up with the Queen.” Aelin giggled and loved the fact that they could still talk and be around each other without it being awkward. “Just text me when you reach chapter twenty five of book two.” “Something bad happens?” “Just text me.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “Of course m’lady.” And he bowed to her with a huge spitting grin. His eyes bright with mirth. “And after this lovely conversation I have to bid farewell to you two lovely ladies and go back to a conversation about environmental friendly engines.” “I’ll text you.” He added staring at Aelin. “I am counting on it.” And with that he left the shop. Lysandra turned all of a sudden to her friend “That was Elias. As in theElias as in the other guy?” Aelin nodded. “Damn, now I understand why you were all flustered and confused. Seriously woman, what do guy eat around here?” Lysandra blurted out “Ok, he is not sex on two legs like Rowan but I’d definitely take him out for a ride if it wasn’t that I love Aedion.” “He is wonderful. Just…” “No spark. It’s fine. At least you are still good friends.” Aelin wanted to reply but a group of what clearly were tourists came into the bookshop. By accident Lysandra moved the mouse with her hand and it woke up the computer and she noticed the screensaver. It was a picture of Aelin on the beach. She had her arms up in the air and her feet in the water and a smile she had never seen on her friend. And her heart ached. She was happy for Aelin, but she also knew that the chances of her going back to London were now non-existent. And the idea of not having her around hurt. But she knew Aelin needed all of the good things that were happening to her and she hoped Rowan was intelligent enough to realise what an amazing woman he had won over. Lysandra got off the chair and started walking around the shop with interest and studied Aelin in her new element.

It was later in the morning when Rowan and Aedion returned to the shop. “Glad to see my bookshop is still standing, Fireheart.” And he pulled her to him for a hug and Aelin could smell the chlorine on him and flinched. She kissed him behind his ear and found a spot where the chlorine did not seem to affect him and smiled. “How was it?” She asked looking up at him. “I loved it. The kids are great and it felt awesome to be back in the water.” He kissed her “And after they all left I stayed in the water and swam a bit.” She stayed hugged to him but turned a little to look at Lysandra “We had a good morning too. And Elias popped in for a visit. He needed the other books in The Cursed Kingdom.” “Poor man,” Rowan joked and kissed Aelin’s head grateful that she did not hide from him the fact that the man had come to the shop. He was okay with them being friends because that made Aelin happy. And that was going to be his next mission in life: make her as happy as he could. “So you are taking the job?” “I will. After our break. I already told them so.” He explained. And Aelin grinned. She was happy that Rowan had made that step, he seemed happier all of a sudden “Now I just need to see you swim.” Lysandra’s eyebrows went up in acknowledgement and she thought about the conversation they had earlier. “I was thinking…” began Rowan and Aelin gave him a puzzled look and he ignored her “What about dinner all of us together at my place tonight?” Aelin was staring at him in disbelief. What had happened to him all of a sudden? She looked at his serene face and she realised they were a long way from the grumpy man who had kicked her out of the shop and told her she was nothing to him. She slid her arms around his waist and almost purred. She did not care if her friends were there. She needed that. Plus, in the past she had to suffer Lysandra and her PDA with other boyfriends. “Sounds like a brilliant plan.”

Rowan had closed an hour earlier and affixed a sign on the door advising the customers that the shop was going to close for four days for holidays. They had all gone to their respective places to pack and get ready for their trip. Aelin felt on cloud number nine. They arrived at Rowan’s at six thirty. They had decided for an early dinner. They didn’t want to stay up too late considering the early departure on the schedule for the following day. Once at the house, Rowan welcomed them in and his place smelled like delicious food. Apparently Rowan was good at cooking. Aelin was eager to see if she could add that one as well to the list of skills the man had. “Come and sit in the living room.” “Wow.” Was Lysandra’s comment at the sight “And I thought Aelin had a problem with books. Looks like you are worse than her. Definitely the man of her dreams.” And she winked at Aelin with a mischievous smile. Rowan pretended to ignore the comment and opened a bottle of wine “You can drink too since you did not drive here.” Aelin rolled her eyes. He was so overprotective. “Yes, dad.” And Lysandra laughed loudly and Aelin had half an idea of why. Rowan filled their glasses “dinner will be ready soon.” And disappeared back in the kitchen and Aelin glared at Lysandra. “What?” He friend whispered “I am just helping.”

Rowan came back a few minutes later with a fantastic series of plates with mouthwatering food. “You made all this?” Asked Aelin incredulous. “I did.” Then he brought over the last two dishes. He had made an amazing pork roast with vegetables, and roasted potatoes. “These are for you.” He gave Aelin a plate with fries “I know you love them, although you are missing out on my roasted potatoes.” “Who said I am missing out?” She grinned. They began eating and Aelin was amazed s the meal turned out to be wonderful and she wondered if her could be any more perfect. “I have found a place for us where to stay. It’s a cottage I knew and they had space for the nights we needed so I went ahead and booked it. Hope it’s okay.” “As long as it’s the one with the beach view.” Aelin had her priorities all right. “It is. I also booked our ferry ticket so we don’t have to worry too much.” “What time would you like to leave tomorrow?” Asked Aelin knowing that Rowan already had an action plan. “I’ll come and pick you up at seven. Better leave early, especially if we plan to go to Luskentyre. I plan on having to drag Aelin away by force.” He grinned at her and brushed her hand “We have the ferry at 13:15.” He took a sip of his wine “I had a look at the forecast and it looks like we are going to be very lucky. There is a warm front coming and it’s going to hit us right when we are away. but…” and he stared at the two women “bring clothes to protect you from the wind. Aelin knows how bad the wind can get out here.” And his piercing green eyes were on Aelin. “I am going to bring a swimsuit. I don’t care. I need to swim in those waters.” “I’ll bring medicines.” He replied glaring at her.

The dinner went on a bit longer but at 9 Rowan decided he was sending everyone home. They had a long day ahead and they needed rest. “You are kicking us out so you can read.” Aelin told him brushing a kiss on his cheek. “I am kicking you out because we are leaving early tomorrow.” He leaned into the kiss. “Do you want a help cleaning up?” She offered but he refused “Pans and pots are already washing in the dishwasher. I just need to do the dishes. It won’t take me long.” “Okay” she said brushing his hand.

Once at the door Lysandra and Aedion said their goodbyes and then the woman dragged her boyfriend away to let the two some privacy. “Thank you for tonight. It was very nice of you.” Rowan kissed her and pinned her against the wall near the door. Aelin’s hands went straight for his hair and replied to the kiss with the same need as him. When she came up for air she stared him in his green eyes “I love you, mo chridhe.” “The more you say it, the more your accent gets better.” And he kissed her again. “I love you, mo chridhe,” His hand brushed her hair and kissed her one last time for good measure. “Tha gaol agam ort.”

[whumphoarder]

Death by Waffles

Summary: When Tony decides to adopt a cat for Morgan, Peter is almost more excited about it than the six-year-old. He just failed to mention one minor issue before coming to visit at the lake house for the weekend.

Or, in which Peter is horrifically allergic to cats but JUST LOVES THEM SO MUCH.

Word count: 1,638

Genre: Fluff, slight whump, humor

A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx & @sallyidss for beta reading and giving me ideas! 

Link to read on Ao3

“I still think we should have called him Winston Furrchill,” Tony says with a shrug, watching Peter, who’s sitting cross legged on the living room floor, grinning ear-to-ear, stroking the long-haired cat’s fur.

“That’s so boorrring, Daddy,” Morgan complains. She grabs the little feather teaser and dangles it in front of the cat’s face. He lifts a paw lazily to bat at it. “All your ideas were so boring.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony balks at her, eliciting giggles from Peter and a dramatic groan from the six-year-old. “My ideas were gold. Mr. Meowgi. Bill Clawsby. Genghis Khat.”

Peter snaps once and shoots a finger gun Tony’s direction. “Luke Skywhisker!” he throws in, causing Morgan to groan. “Ooh! Call him Nick Furr-y!”

“No! His name is Waffles!” Morgan exclaims, throwing up her hands in exasperation and causing the kitty in question to dart across the room and dive into his favorite hiding place—the cardboard box that his brand new, untouched, three-hundred-dollar cat tree came in. Tony just rolls his eyes; it’s behavior like this that makes him almost regret spending the last four days in the workshop designing that damn feline an elaborate catwalk and perch system spanning every room of the lake house.

(Almost.)

Morgan sticks her lip out in a pout.

“Aw, Mo, we were just teasing,” Peter says, patting her arm with a kind smile. “Waffles is a great name—I love it.”

That seems to console her. She grins back at him. “It’s ‘cus when we brought him home, he was really scared the first day and he just wanted to hide under my bed. So Daddy said I could eat breakfast in my room with him so he’d feel safer, but then I had to go to the bathroom and when I was gone he stole my waffle,” she rambles.

Peter quirks an eyebrow. “Your cat ate a waffle?”

Morgan nods. “Uh-huh, and then he puked it up again on the carpet!” she explains cheerfully.

“Ah yes, fond memories…” Tony mutters.

“So I named him Waffles,” Morgan concludes. “But I almost called him Syrup, ‘cus he got that on his paws when he walked on the plate, and then he ran around everywhere and it was all sticky. Mommy says that’s why we got ants after.”

While Peter snorts out a laugh, Tony just runs a hand over his face and sighs. “It’s been a long week.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Peter laughs, rubbing a hand at his eyes. He uncrosses his legs and gets to his feet to walk over to the box where Morgan is trying to lure Waffles out again. “I always wanted a cat, but May never let me get one—said they were too much hassle.”

“They are,” Tony says emphatically.

“Are not,” Morgan disagrees. As Peter sits down by the box, she picks up the bag of kitty treats and starts shaking it, causing Waffles to poke his head out. She pours out three little treats onto her open palm. He sniffs them suspiciously, then turns his nose up and buries himself back in the box.

Morgan turns to Tony and shrugs. “I don’t think he likes chicken flavor anymore. You gotta get him the salmon ones, Daddy.”

“But you told me this morning that he doesn’t like salmon,” Tony argues. “He only eats the premium chicken with gravy.”

Morgan shakes her head. “No, no that’s his wet food. He only eats dry salmon, and wet chicken. And sometimes tuna, but only that one in the blue bag.”

“And waffles,” Peter throws in with a wry smile, sitting down to start stroking the cat inside the box. “Don’t forget the waffles, Mr. Stark.”

“At this rate, I’m thinking it’d be better to just install a cat flap and let him find his own mice for dinner,” Tony grumbles.

As if on cue, Waffles meows irritably and leaps out of the cardboard box, straight onto Peter’s lap. However in doing so, the cat’s fluffy tail tickles the kid’s nose. Peter sneezes twice—rather violently—startling the cat to the point that it shoots across the room and climbs halfway up the drapes.

“Waffles!” Morgan cries and races after him.

Sniffling a bit, Peter gives a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

Tony rolls his eyes and extends a hand to help lever the kid up again. Peter rubs at his eyes again—which Tony notices are redder than usual. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously. “Are you sure ‘too much hassle’ was the only reason May was against you having cats?”

Something flashes across Peter’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as it appears. “Yeah, yeah of course. Well, that and she’s more of a dog person, really, but they’re not allowed in the apartment.”

“Hm.” Tony glances at his watch. “Alright, well it’s almost His Royal Highness’ dinner time.” He gestures to the kitchen. “Let’s go see if we can get him to choke down some caviar and truffles or something…”

X

Three hours later, Tony can’t ignore the signs any longer. After witnessing Peter’s third sneezing fit since dinner, he privately pulls the kid out into the kitchen. “Pete, c’mon,” he sighs. “Just admit it already.”

Taking a tissue from the box Tony holds out to him, Peter shrugs innocently. “Alright, you got me. Guess I’m coming down with a cold.” He wipes his nose.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “A cold that began ten minutes after entering our home and has only gotten progressively worse since?”

Peter chuckles a bit. “Yeah, go figure, right? Perfect timing for my weekend off. What does Doctor Banner call that again?” He tilts his head to the side in thought. “Starts with an L…”

“Pete…”

“Leisure sickness!” he recalls, his face lighting up. “That’s the word. Think I’ve got that.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony starts ticking each symptom off on his fingers. “Your nose is running, your eyes are watery, you’re sneezing—”

“Which is all from the cold,” Peter cuts him off. He coughs twice into his elbow. “See? Sick.”

Tony scoffs. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once admitted to being sick unprompted.” He pauses a beat. “Including that time you were actively vomiting.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck and gives a sheepish grin. “So I'm really demonstrating growth, then, huh?”

Tony ignores him and soldiers on. “You’re itching,” he says, gesturing to the red welts emerging on Peter’s forearms and neck. “You’re getting a rash—”

Peter tugs his hoodie sleeves down to cover them. “I think that’s the new laundry soap I’ve been using...”

Tony blinks at him. “Your eyes are bright red, kid.”

Peter opens his mouth to retort something, but then closes it again. He drops his gaze to the floor and lets out a hard sigh. “Okay… okay you’re right,” he admits. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna say it around Morgan.” He looks up and, with a totally straight expression, whispers, “I’ve been smoking weed, Mr. Stark. I’m actually tripping balls right now.”

“Peter, just admit that you’re allergic to cats!”

“Huh?” Morgan cries from the living room where she has her kitty on her lap while she watches Curious George. “Peter’s allergic to Waffles?!” The cat dives off her lap and out into the kitchen, hiding behind Peter’s leg.

Peter winces. Then his nose wrinkles up and he sneezes four times into his wad of tissues. When he draws in his next breath, it’s more of a wheeze.

Tony heaves out a sigh. “Alright, we’re done here.” He bends down and scoops the cat up. “Waffles is staying in Pep’s office for the remainder of this weekend.”

“What?” Morgan blurts.

“Yeah, what?” Peter echos, snatching the cat back from Tony’s arms. “You can’t do that!”

“Pete, he’s making you sick,” Tony points out as Peter sneezes yet again. “If you’re already this bad in three hours, how do you expect to breathe in a couple more days?”

Peter looks stricken. “But… But you don’t understand.” He hugs the cat a little tighter and Tony swears he can see fresh hives emerging on Peter’s neck. “I just love him so much, Mr. Stark,” he says earnestly. “I would honestly die for this cat.”

Tony sighs and pats his shoulder consolingly. “Yeah, and that’s looking more and more like it might become reality, kiddo...”

X

It takes some convincing—and a bit of bribery—but eventually he gets the kids to agree to his plan. In the end, Morgan and Peter settle for a six-foot-tall ‘Royal Castle Kitty Condo’ (complete with a litter moat) in exchange for Waffles’ temporary banishment. He then sends Peter to the guest room while he and Morgan transfer the cat’s most essential supplies into the office, grateful for once that Pepper’s staying downtown this weekend.

Waffles promptly makes himself at home on the very top of her bookshelf—after first knocking over two glass figurines and a meticulously ordered stack of papers, sending legal documents flying around the room.

(Tony wonders just what kind of royal castle equivalent he’s going to have to bribe Pepper with when she gets back.)

X

It’s 12:16 a.m. when Tony remembers that they forgot to give Waffles his anti-hairball paste that evening and comes grumbling out of bed to do so.

It’s 12:19 a.m. when Tony opens the office door to see Peter, sitting on the floor with that damn cat curled up in his lap, wheezing out a high-pitched chant of, “Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a good boy?” between puffs of his inhaler as he strokes Waffles’ fur.

It’s 12:21 a.m. when Tony just gives up trying to reason with the kid and goes raiding the bathroom cabinets for Benadryl.

X

Link to all my fics

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Beanimia

Morgan Stark, M.D.

Fevers, Bananas, & Math Lessons

[razorblade180]

Mother’s Day

[Twin Snowflakes]

It’s early in the morning. Weiss has just woken up to something a bit out of the ordinary. Someone had picked her outfit out already. It was an office dress; nothing too special. Except it was pure black with a glittery red belt and a slit in the dress on the left side. What made it strange though was Someone placed her black wig and red contacts next to it.

Needless to say, she was intrigued and was going to wear it. In a matter of minutes she was walking through her hallways in it.

Bleiss:Hello!? Yo, my little rugrats?.....Babe? I know one of you has to awa-

She turned the corner to see Jaune in a dashing white business suit and an over the top decorative bow on his head that was held in place by ribbon that went over his body; complete with a note.

Bleiss:Well hey there sexy. Looking a bit finer than usual.

Jaune:And you look every bit as gorgeous as the day I met you; better in fact.

Bleiss:*red* Are you going to read that note for me handsome?

Jaune:*clears throat* “Dear Mother Goose-

Bleiss:*snorts* (These kids...)

Jaune: “Happy Mother’s Day! We took deliberately or persuading dad to put on the suit you bought for him and waking up early enough to make breakfast downstairs. We’ll be out the house until dinner time. With love, you little rugrats.”

Bleiss:Should we be concerned our children basically know what we- what I like to do when we have alone time?

Jaune:You’re not exactly subtle when you’re like this.

Bleiss:I can’t help that you’re so irresistible. Though I don’t get what’s up with my suit.

Jaune:That wasn’t them. It was all me. I already said this but...

He saunters over to Bleiss who can’t help but smirk as his hand reaches for her waist and pulls her closer.

Jaune:You look really gorgeous today.

Bleiss:Isn’t breakfast waiting for us?

Jaune:That look in your eyes tell me you aren’t that hungry.

Bleiss:Not for food, no. So you gonna kiss me already or-mmph!?

Her words were cut off by a deep and loving kiss. What a good way to start the morning.

xxxx

Nora woke up and did her usual morning routine. Shower, stretching, and her workout clothes. Time to start the day. She walked over to her bed and kissed her sleeping husband on the cheek “Bye sweetie.” Nora said, before heading out of the room.

She almost made it out of her home when something caught her eye. A light from another room was coming from around the corner. The kitchen? Nora made her way towards the kitchen and hit with the glorious smell of pancakes. A hardy stack of them in heart shapes were on the counter while Valerie was washing the pan that they were made in. The girl grabbed two forks and an obscene amount of syrup.

Nora:Well whay do we have here!? Color me impressed.

Valerie:Happy Mother’s Day. How about we also make it a cheat day?

Nora:I say we are going to need a hundred more pancakes before it counts as a cheat day.

Ren:*walks in* Then I guess you need a master chef.

Nora:Oh you’re awake!

Ren:*kisses her cheek* Today is a special day.

Valerie:Let’s chow down!

Ren and Nora:Yeah!

xxxx

knock knock knock

Ruby:*opens door* Hello-

Summer:*holding a cookie jar* We know this might be a bit weird but....

Nick:*holding Roses* You’re basically like a mom to us too.

Summer and Nick:So Happy Mo-

Ruby pulls both of them into a giant hug and holds them close. The twins look a little stunned at first before hearing Ruby sniffle softly. They not wrap their arms around her in a loving embrace.

Ruby:Thank you....

xxxx

Veronica:Hey mom? Can you come here real quick and help me with some fabric?

Blake:I’m a little busy at the moment.

Veronica:*pouts* It would really be appreciated. If you could help. It would only take second.

Blake:*walking in* If it’s that easy than why- shut the fuck up!!!! Is this....!?

In that moment, Blake remembered what today was. She had been so busy with work that it crossed her mind. Even if she never forgotten, Blake would’ve been happy with a card. Instead she stood in front of an elegant kunoichi inspired outfit. The base was black win a purple haze design that went around it as if to give it a smokey look. Dark purple was also the color of the hems and sleeve cuffs with the black becoming accent on it. All topped off with a beautiful purple bow tied in the back. This alone was exceptional, but something made it better. It was....

Blake:Is this a replica of the main protagonist’s outfit from Ninjas of Love!?

Veronica:To. The. Last. Stitch.

Blake:*tearing up* Veronica this is outstanding! Wait, why are you reading-

Veronica:*red* I like the plot! Moving on... I hope you enjoy this and I don’t know if you’ll get the perfect opportunity to wear this but hey. I’m sure you’ll find an excuse.

Blake:You know I will. *hugs her* I love you.

Veronica:*purring* I know!

Yang:Hey have you seen- woah is that...?

Blake:Yeah it is!

Yang:Veronica knocked it out of the park this year.

Veronica:It’s you that’s the tricky one. *red* Your gift is a little more abstract. I know I’m usually busy and not the easiest person to deal with. I also know we don’t really spend time together that much anymore so-

Yang.*hugging her* Is someone trying to spend the entire day with me?

Veronica:If...that’s okay?

Yang:Silly kitty. It’s always going to be okay. I love you.

Veronica:I....I love you too.

xxxx

*door opens*

Nick:We’re back!

Summer:Please be decent!

Jaune:*making dinner* We’ve been decent for hours.

Summer:We never know with you two. (I’m surprised we don’t have another set of twins or something.)

Nick:Now then, did we come home to mother goose or mama duck? *smiling*

He got his answer answer in the form of long white hair coming from around the kitchen corner and rushing over to grab both him and his sister. All three falling over to the ground as they laughed and hugged each other.

Weiss:Hello my baby ducklings!

Summer and Nick:Happy Mother’s Day mom!

Weiss:It really is, isn’t it?

[Lasting Embers]

Raven:Hey, I’m going out Tai.

Tai:Before you go can you stop by Yang’s and drop off those sunflowers?

Raven:Her house is the complete opposite direction.

Tai:Just open a portal.

Raven:Fine. *opens portal* You know a present means more if-

Yang:SURPRISE!!!

Without warning, Yang comes jumping through from the other side. Tackling Raven right to the ground and hugging her. Raven’s face turns red as she notices balloons and a box with the Schnee logo; most likely some high quality dust blades.

Raven:Yang!? What are you-

Yang:Happy Mother’s Day you grouchy mama bird. *grinning*

Raven:....

Raven:*smiles* After all these years you’re as energetic as ever. Once a baby bird, always a baby bird. *hugs her*

Yang:!!?*red*

Raven:Tai where you in on this?

Tai:Duh. I’m also in on Yang’s gift.

Yang:My gift? I was just home and got a card.

Tai:*smiles* But now you’re here and not home. A lot can change in a matter of minutes.

That peeked Yang’s interest. Her and Raven stared at the portal that was still opened in curiosity before getting up and jumping through. Tai chuckled at their anticipation and went through as well.

He was rewarded with the sight of his daughter covering her mouth with amazement as she tried not to jump up and down like a kid. They were all outside, including Jaune who was smiling. As well as Yujin who was also covered in motor oiled while she posed arms crossed right next to motorcycle that looked liked Yang’s old one.

Yujin:Meet bumblebee 2.0! Built from the ground up by yours truly after months of hardwork. You have many people to think for this accomplishment since this was no blueprints for the original.

Yang:How the heck did you get so accurate! The leather even feels right!

Yujin:Someone remembers what it felt like when it ran full force into him.

Yang:No fricken way....

Yujin:Adam says you’ll personally have to fight him again if you launch this bike at anyone or off a cliff.

Yang:Damnit, no I have to thank him. That was probably his plan from the get go.

Jaune:Stop whinnying and take this thing for a spin. *tosses her a helmet*

Yang:Wanna come admire your handiwork with your dear old mom Yujin?

Yujin:Hell Yeah!

Yang:Let’s go visit Tenzen.

Yujin:*pulls out scroll* He’s a bit busy.

She flips the scroll around and plays a video from earlier today.

Tenzen:*grinning* Hey Yujin, I think my mom likes her present. What’s your opinion? *flips camera around*

Nora:*holding a sloth* This is the greatest moment that has ever happened in my entire life...! He’s so cute!!!

xxxx

(Night time)

Jacquelyn:*watering flowers*..... (Hmm, haven’t seen the kids all day. They must be planning something, or maybe they forgot. No...well, they have been busy lately.)

A frown crept up on her face. She was used to simple gifts since money was tight so that wasn’t a problem. She just wanted them to say. Jacquelyn continue to get wrapped up in her thoughts until something cool ran across the top of her forehead. She looked up to see an orbs of water in front of her. They were floating, all the water she was pouring upwards; her entire body was floating. “Huh?”

A shadow drifted over her during this clear moon lit night; shadows that had horns and cat ears. Jacquelyn looked up with big smile to see her daughters floating towards her with petals of numerous flowers following them. All of them a variety of colors that rivaled any sunset or rainbow. The two grabbed their mom and put her right in the center of it all as they held her close.

Sienna:Happy Mother’s Day to the women who brings color to our lives...

Jael:And sweeps us off our feet.

Jacquelyn:Awww you guys. This is gorgeous.

Sienna:It took us longer than we thought to find enough flowers. This is the desert after all.

Jael:Not to mention the annoying grimm, but we managed!

Jacquelyn:You could’ve just gotten me a card.

Sienna:We do that every year! This one had to be special!

Jael:Yeah, you’re the best! With your powers now your garden will be twice as big.

Jacquelyn:*tearing up* Thank you. (Heh, I almost forgot. With these two....)

Sienna and Jael:We love you!)

Jacquelyn:*crying* (I’ll never be forgotten)

The three remained floating up there enjoying the view. Not knowing a certain someone was watching from below.

Adam:*smiling*

[Premonition]

Blake:*writing*

Secretary:Uh, Mrs Belladonna? It’s time for lunch.

Blake:That’s fine, I’ll just work through it. I have to these documents done by tomorrow night.

Secretary: Ah yes, he thought you might say that. Or I guess he knew you would.

Blake:!? “Knew?”

The secretary walked in a placed a bento box on her desk before leaving. Blake put down her pen and opened it to find it filled with various sushi; cooked and uncooked. Along with heart shaped rice balls and a note. Blake smiles and read it immediately.

“Do your best to unite the world. Can’t do it on an empty stomach though. Happy Mother’s Day.”

Blake:.....

Lucas:*laying in a hammock* (I wonder...if she’ll like it? I followed dad’s instructions but that doesn’t mean she’ll like it.) Hmmm

Blake:Someone looks concerned.

Lucas:Mom!? *sits up* Shouldn’t you be working!?

Blake:It’s lunch break. I wanna spend it with my special little guy. You made way too much food for one person you know? *smiles* Almost like you wanted me to come home to share. Predict that too?

Lucas:*red* More like wishful thinking.

Blake smiled and sat next to him. She quickly learned in a kissed his cheek which made Lucas wanna curl up in embarrassment and Blake laugh.

Blake:Wish granted.

Lucas:Happy Mother’s Day mom.

Blake:Hehe, thank you.

[Rosebud]

Another day, another job well done. For the most part anyways. A couple of nevermore had taken the wind out of Ruby’s sails by launching a feather at her right ankle. Now she was walking home with a limp. Crescent rose on her back didn’t make it easier, or the fact she was going through sand. At least she had the brains to take off her heels before reaching she made it to the rough terrain. The sun was setting but no grimm scared her; at this point she did not care about making everyone of them stone. If she can get over the sand dune in front of her that is.

Ruby:(Stupid nevermore with their stupid sharp feathers. Since when do they curve through the air? That’s definitely new.) Ugh, I’m definitely taking the longest bath when I get home.

???:That sounds nice.

Ruby’s head perked up immediately. She was a bit more tired than she thought. On top of the dune was a person. Not just anybody though, herself? All she saw was a silhouette but she was definitely looking at her old clothes from Atlas. The figure stepped closer and out of the glaring sunbeam. It was Carmine, and she was looking a bit winded herself.

Ruby was thrown for a loop on why her daughter was wearing those old clothes or looked like she ran a marathon. She didn’t get a chance to ask before Carmine lifted her mother up and onto her back; carrying Ruby up the dune.

Ruby:Ummm thank you? What’s this all about.

Carmine:You’re hurt. Why wouldn’t I carry you?

Ruby:I was talking more about the outfit. You aren’t a fan of skirts or anything too fancy.

Carmine:*blushing* Yeah well, I know how much you think I look cute in them so I thought I’d pick the coolest looking one,

Ruby:Awww for me? How cute.

Carmine:This goes right back in the box after today!

Ruby:So is this my gift?

Carmine:You’re a third right. The other half you’ll see when we get to the top.

Ruby:Ooooo

A few minutes passed before Ruby got why her daughter was tired. As they reached the top Ruby saw nothing but what looked like an ocean of crimson that surrounded her house down in the distances. “Is that red sand?”

“Look closer..” Carmine said. Ruby squinted and on closer inspection Ruby realize that the red she was seeing was roses. Hundreds of roses that each shimmered faintly like raindrops being hit by sunlight. “Woah.....”

Carmine smiled confidently. “Now look at it as a whole.”

“A whole? What, is it a pic-my symbol!?” Ruby screamed in shock. The roses were postponed perfectly to recreate her symbol with the house right in the center of it all.

Ruby:How the- this is- Carmine this is amazing! I didn’t even think you could make this many roses!

Carmine:Not without dad’s help. He’s almost has burnt out as I am. I’m sure both of you though will find your second wind in time for bed though.

Ruby:*Blushing* Carmine!

Carmine:Don’t be mad because I’m right. I’ll be knocked out though so I doubt you’ll wake me or Garnet.

Ruby:What’s the third part of this present?

Carmine:He’s at home with dad making cookies.

Ruby:Fuck yeah! This day rules. Worth the injury. Thanks sweetheart. *holds on tighter* You’ve really grown up strong huh? I’m glad....

Carmine:Hehe, I... had good teachers. Happy Mother’s Day....

[rainiedeforest]

Attempt the impossible

Fandom: Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Untamed) Pair: Madame Yu | Yu Ziyuan & Madame Jin Link to AO3: [here] Resume: Seemingly vain conversations with much deeper meanings between Yu Ziyuan and Madame Jin Words: 1917

Madame Yu Birth name: 虞夜花 – Yú Yèhuā

虞 yú – to worry 夜 yè – night 花 huā – flower

Courtesy name: 虞紫鸢 – Yú Zǐyuān

虞 yú – to worry 紫 zǐ – purple 鸢 yuān – kite (bird)

Madame Jin Birth name: 星笑甜– Xīng Xiàotián

星xīng – star 笑Xiào – laugh 甜tián - sweet

Courtesy name: 星紫星– Xīng Shèjì

星xīng – star 紫星 shèjì - wish

“Why not?”

Xiaotian's question, now Xing Sheji after her naming ceremony, made her roll her eyes. Was she really asking her something like that? Was it a joke?

“Because not and that’s all,” replied Yehua, lifting her legs to the bed in the small room they had reserved for the night. “I have enough with having met him again. Is there no more inns in the entire city?”

Xiaotian took off the delicate golden crown that decorated her long black hair and looked at her best friend, raising an eyebrow and clearly amused.

“It was more than obvious that we were going to meet him. Only you thought it wasn’t going to happen something like this.” Xiaotian's words fell like a bucket of cold water on her. “He is guarding the new disciples of his sect towards Cloud Recesses. It is what is expected of a cultivator like him.”

Yehua growled and dropped back onto the bed, covering her face with the pillow so that her best friend wasn’t able to see the frustration that paint each one of her features. Even though she hadn't had too many encounters with Jiang Fengmian since she was given her courtesy name three years ago in that pseudo-ceremony (which she was grateful for, because the kind smile ha gave her, though she thought he was just teasing her because of the sparkle in his eyes when he saw her in the room, had embarrassed her enough to almost annoy her), the few encounters that had happened between them were enough proof that the uncontrollable rapid beat of her heart was something she didn't like too much.

Because that implied that she wasn’t able to keep herself under the rigorous control that she appreciated so much and that filled her with calm.

Her hands absently caressed Zidian's silver ring that remained cold against her skin and she snorted, getting up to remove the outer layers of clothing.

“I don't want to keep talking about it.”

“Someday we'll have to talk about it,” Xiaotian reminded her with a certain sardonic tone, smiling mockingly before continuing to undress. They would soon get into bed to sleep, since tomorrow they still had a long way to go until they reached the GusuLan sect.

“I don’t see why we have to.”

Xiaotian turned, looking at her incredulously, before throwing her own pillow at her.

“I don’t know? Perhaps because you've been completely and hopelessly in love with him since you was twelve.” And there it was the reminder that she couldn't control something as simple as her own feelings. “Look, I don’t want to put the finger in the sore but the boy is handsome, I won’t deny that, and he is very nice, but he doesn’t look like a god. I wouldn't turn to look at him twice. And we have to think that he doesn’t particularly stands out especially by his cultivation skills,” she replied with a laugh, without a single pause, glancing at Yehua and adjusting the tie of her underwear. She expected a great reaction from her friend. “He is good with the sword, that’s true and I cannot denied it. But…”

“And here comes the but…”

“He doesn't have a gold core as strong as yours and that makes him a rather unsuitable candidate for you.”

“Xing Sheji!”

“Yu Ziyuan!”

“Agh! You are impossible!” Yehua exclaimed angrily, almost getting into bed with her shoes. “Let's see. Who, in your wise and valid opinion, is better than Jiang Fengmian?”

Her friend smiled before going to the other girl's bed, climbing on it and getting too close to Yehua. A shiver ran up and down when she felt her so close, staring her into her eyes.

“Jin Guangshan, for example,” Yehua tried to hold back the dry, scornful laugh she doesn’t wanted to share, but failed miserably, causing Xiaotian to look at her with pursed lips. “What?”

Yehua continued laughing, shaking her head before pulling back, at the risk of hitting herself with the wall.

“Tell me you're kidding.  Yes, you have to be joking because you would never name him.”

“Yu Ziyuan! I don’t get why you are laughing at me. What’s so funny?”

“Gods ...” Yehua managed to say when she calmed down a little, seeing how her best friend was not only getting angrier, but was looking at her waiting for a response with her arms crossed. She wasn’t kidding. “No way, you mean it… You really mean it… It can't be true, Sheji.” But one last look made her snort. “He spends more time thinking about his appearance and which maiden is better to seduce, than in his cultivation skills! Which are quite mediocre, if we compare them with your measuring stick.”

“That's not true. Liar”

Yehua raised both eyebrows and shook her head.

“Liar? Come on, A-Tian. He wasn’t able to beat that yao from the forest. And my little sister would have finished it in a single blink!” Yehua replied, pushing the opponent's pillow against her chest to push her away. “Though, he was very good at crying. I think I will sympathize with the poor woman who has to marry him.”

“At least she will be really happy at night,” Xiaotian commented as if talking about the weather, being hit with the pillow. “Ouch!”

“You are shameless,” Yehua chuckled, feeling her cheeks flush, and was soon accompanied by Xiaotian.

It wasn’t that the affairs of lovers were strange to them. When they reached an age, the maids were more than willing to tell them all kinds of details. The married maids, of course, the others were too suspicious to tell anything, not even for a small price. And, fortunately for them, not only the maids, but they could easily see it in the cities.

In fact, Yehua still remembered one of the first nights they met on a hunt... It was in a brothel, not because both girls went to that place consciously, and they both saw things that they would rather not have seen.

“I think one of the two had the wrong gender at birth,” Xiaotian replied once they calmed down.

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of us is too feminine.” Yehua stared at her incredulously and pointed to her clothes. “Just because I like to take care of my image doesn’t mean that I behave like a lady.”

“At least you do it more than I do. Haven't you listened to my mother?” She asked, snorting. “She says that she doesn’t make a career with me, that I should be married or with a view to be, and that she hasn’t educated me to be a little savage. I don't know what she expects from me, really.”

“Do we ever know?” She asked, letting out a big sigh.

Yehua looked at her before beginning to fiddle with the delicate necklace around his neck.

“Exactly. Sometimes I think it would have been easier to be born as a man. They can do whatever they want, go to a lot of places, improve their cultivation and they don't have to get married so soon as we. If they don't want us to behave as one… Why do they teach us cultivation then, if our only goal is to get married and have children?”

“Mm… Yes? Because we have to be able to bear strong children who can inherit, be it a sect or some kind of legacy.”

“If I ever marry...”

“Something that you will do in the end...”

“I wouldn't be so sure, A-Tian,” she replied, trying not to think about it. She didn't know if there was really anyone in the world willing to spend the rest of his life with her. “But if I marry, I will make sure that my husband doesn’t prohibit me from remaining the way I am right now.”

Xiaotian looked down and smiled bitterly, even giggling, silenced by the movement of her sleeve.

“Good luck. We both know that it’s impossible.”

“Then... I'll attempt the impossible,” she replied before laughing. Because even she knew how complicated that would be.

Xiaotian helped her get rid of the ornaments in her hair in silence, neither of them speaking since neither of them knew what else to say. The topic of marriage was something that had been weighing them down since they first bled. And as they approached a suitable age, their families put more and more pressure on them to put aside everything they enjoyed and had known since childhood to become the women they wanted.

“In the next life, one of the two will have to born as a man,” Xiaotian commented casually, setting the decorations on the small table.

“So that we can marry each other?” Yehua asked amused. “You know? I would be a great husband.”

Both girls shared a knowing look before laughing, but their laughter was soon silenced by a high-pitched moan.

“Oh, Young Master Jin!” They heard a woman exclaim through the thin doors of the room they shared.

Xiaotian and Yehua shared a surprised look. Young Master Jin? They only knew one young master, the heir of the LanlingJin sect, but he didn’t stay at that same inn as they. What's more, they had no record of them going to share lessons in the Cloud Recesses with him. However, both girls couldn't help but laugh, covering their mouths so they won’t be too scandalous and attract the attention of both lovers. This was such a coincidence.

“At least someone is going to enjoy the night,” Xiaotian replied before getting out of bed. Although they hadn’t seen him at the inn, because they knew that the Jin clan always reserved the best inn of all for themselves, even if they didn’t fill all the rooms, they imagined that he would also be escorting more disciples or that he would go to attend himself to the readings, the latter somewhat improbable given that he was older than them.

“Yes... I just hope that their enjoyment will let us get enough sleep. Or I will have to visit him with Zidian,” Yehua replied, closing his eyes. “Seriously, couldn't he have gone to his own inn?”

Xiaotian ignored the latter and smiled as she moved provocatively by the room.

“Mm... You better not give him too many ideas. Maybe he will even like it.”

The look of horror on Yehua's face was enough to make her friend laugh again before running to her bed. She loved to make Yehua rage, because she blushed very easily despite the fact that she believed she gave an image of a hard and impassive woman, but she wasn’t so stupid as to stay close to her, especially when she had Zidian in her hand.

“As I have said before, poor of the woman that has to marry him. She is going to have to carry it straighter than a stick.”

“Mm... It can be an interesting challenge,” Xiaotian murmured more to herself than to Yehua, covering with the sheets.

Yehua looked at her confused, frowning slightly. She hoped she had misheard, but when she received no signal from her best friend, she snorted.

“Xing Sheji! You cannot be serious!”

Xiaotian was silent for a few minutes, as if she was really thinking it up, before smiling.

“Mm... why not?”

And after a few seconds in silence, Xiaotian asked, talking again:

“Do you think they will do the postures of the book that we took from your brother?”

“Xing Sheji!”

[everlarkficexchange]

The Midnight Train

Written by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt 52: Submitted by @567inpanem. “I know what you want. You have money, but what I have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a dream come true for people like you.“ Sexually frustrated trophy wife Katniss commissions artist Peeta who immortalizes naked women after giving them the greatest O of their lives.

RATED E

WARNINGS: Contains explicit sexual content, dubious consent, incest (step-relation incest), age gap, implied underage, explicit language, suicidal thoughts, canon typical violence, shades of dark!Peeta (but really not that bad, some of you will probably laugh at my idea of dark-ish!Peeta), my brain wouldn’t let this go so here we go, all aboard on another crazy ride.

Length: A little over 10,000 words

A/N: While this may have taken a complete turn away from the original prompt, the basic elements are still there. That made better sense in my head. Hopefully it will make sense to you too by the end of the story and you are able to enjoy anyways! A thousand thanks to @stjohn27and @savvylark​ for pre-reading.

Her father died when she was seventeen. Her mother followed ten months later, on Katniss’ eighteenth birthday. They would starve or worse if Katniss didn’t begin working immediately. A future awaited her in the mines, they insisted.

A future that had killed her father. Drove her mother into despair and their entire family to the brink of desperation. And Katniss couldn’t stand the thought of spending almost every day of her life trapped underground where her father had died.

There were options, of course. A visit to one of the more lonely Peacekeepers guaranteed a handful of extra coins that she could stretch for a month, if Leevy Thompson’s information was reliable. She could hunt and feed her family that way, but hunting full time would look too suspicious. Bring too much attention to the way she flagrantly ignored the laws of Panem.

Katniss was looking for something more stable. More permanent. Prim was only twelve. She had seven Reapings in her future.

She knew that he wanted her. Knew it in the way his cold blue eyes followed her across the town square. Found her after every Reaping she survived. She knew it because he never looked away in shame when she caught him looking. Not even when she was thirteen and still figuring out how to deal with the breasts slowly emerging on her chest or the warm tingling sensation between her thighs late at night or when she’d catch a glimpse of the wrestling team at practice. She knew he wanted her because sometimes when he watched her, he licked his lips as if preparing to devour a feast. His fingers brushed absently over the front of his trousers.

It made her feel itchy and small the way he looked at her, because she knew she couldn’t ask him to stop. He was the mayor after all, and could have anything he wanted.

She could have married Gale instead. He was strong and a skilled hunter. A good partner she worked well with. But he wanted children one day and already had five other mouths to help feed. Their life together would have been a constant struggle.

So the day after she turned eighteen, Katniss put on her best blue dress, walked Prim to school, and instead of attending classes herself, she knocked on the imposing front door of the mayor’s mansion.

“I’d like to speak with Mayor Mellark.”

The maid who answered scoffed and made to close the door in her face.

“Who is it, Gaia?” His voice rang out clear and commanding as it did every Reaping Day when he delivered the speeches touting the Capitol. The same as it did before public punishments. Whippings and beatings and hangings, all of which he oversaw with a satisfied smile and ended with a clap of his hand on Head Peacekeeper Thread’s shoulder for a job well done.

She hated his voice. It made her shudder.

But today it gave her a slim chance at a future for Prim. The maid opened the door wider so the mayor could see her and she tried not to vomit in the perfectly pruned shrubs outside his mansion when he smiled at her.

“Come inside,” he offered the invitation with a wave of his hand.

Gale tried to persuade her not to do it. The second the announcement was made, half the Seam turned their backs on her. She had sold herself into the good graces of the one person they hated almost as much as they hated President Snow.

But it didn’t matter, she told herself. Prim would be safe. He promised her that Prim would never see the inside of an arena. He arranged for Prim to move in with the apothecary and his wife. The couple had no children and were more forgiving of their niece than they had been of their sister. They would train her as a healer and apothecary, and Prim would never have to stay in the mayor’s mansion. Katniss would not be allowed to visit her. It would be…beneath her when the mayor’s wife could afford to be seen by real doctors.

Prim would be safe. Katniss chanted it over and over inside her head as she signed the papers in the Justice Building. Again as the mayor draped a strand of pearls around her throat.

“A wedding gift,” he said.

Over and over as she danced with him in the square. As she posed with him and his three sons for wedding pictures. The oldest son sneered at her, a hatred unlike anything she’d seen before in his eyes.

“Levi. Go get a punch for your mother,” the mayor said after the pictures. “She’s looking flush.”

“She’s not my mother,” Levi snarled but still went to fetch the punch. He was the same age as Katniss and the only one of the three boys old enough to remember their mother – the baker’s second daughter. She had been friends with Katniss’ mother before Lily ran away from town to marry a coal miner named Everdeen.

Rye, the middle son, vanished as soon as he smelled freedom from the posing and smiling of the pictures.

Only the youngest lingered or seemed to offer any sort of kindness to her, his blue eyes curious and questioning, but not malicious. He never knew his birth mother at all. She had died bringing Peeta into the world.

Katniss watched as her husband — the thought made her tense up to keep from showing a physical reaction — ruffled the boy’s curls and spoke with important officials. Peeta stepped away from his father as soon as the touch ended. He moved closer to Katniss.

All for Prim, she told herself all evening long. Through cake and dances and well wishes that no one meant.

At least Prim was safe, she told herself when the mayor led her into the most luxurious bedroom she’d ever seen and told her it was hers. All hers.

At least Prim was safe, Katniss told herself as the mayor then led her to the adjoining room and told her this one was his. Two bedrooms for two people, each room on its own larger than her family’s old house in the Seam. She fumed at the extravagance. But at least she wouldn’t have to actually spend the whole night, every night, with him.

Then he kissed her and bit her lip. Dragged off the brand new white wedding dress, ignoring the sounds of ripping silk as he discarded it and growled that he was going to tame her, make her his.

At least Prim was safe, she told herself as she stifled her cries of pain in the pillow while the mayor slammed into her. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“Fuck,” he said and pulled out. “Touch yourself.”

“What?” she asked, unable to keep from looking at him. His dick was hanging in a curve towards the floor and streaked with a pinkish fluid.

“You’re not wet. Touch yourself.”

She hesitated and he sighed. Disappeared into his private bathroom and she thought perhaps she was off the hook.

Then he returned with two bottles. Pills clanked in one and he tossed one of them back, still watching her as she lay there in shock. He slathered the contents of the second over his dick and started to talk. The things he said frightened her. The things he said he wanted to do to her.

He stroked himself hard and entered her again. A dozen thrusts and then he flipped her onto her stomach. She stared at the door and held onto the sheets as he pounded into her.

Slap slap slap

Each thrust punctuated with a grunt.

At least Prim was safe, she told herself as the bedroom door opened and a wide eyed boy wandered in.

Slap slap slap

The mayor didn’t notice his youngest son watching them, or at least he didn’t stop even if he did. Should she say something?

But then the mayor was shouting in release and the boy was gone.

“Clean yourself up and go to bed.”

She did as ordered and stared out the window. She had known this was part of the deal. At least Prim was safe.

At midnight, she was still awake and heard the blare of a train horn as it left or entered the station. She couldn’t tell. She hadn’t know they ran this late. The Seam too far from the station to hear the horns from there.

The day after she married the mayor, Katniss set about doing something. She needed to do something before she gave in to the urge to claw her own skin from her body. With just her allowance, she now had more money to spend in a month than she’d ever seen before. She took the assistant cook and one of the maids with her and they shopped in the stores in town, then in the Hob. Whispers followed her in her fancy shoes and pearl draped neck. They weren’t too proud to take her money, at least, even if they wouldn’t look her in the eye or they spat on the floor as she left.

She ignored their disdain and their dirty looks and left her companions with Sae for a bowl of stew and a crust of bread. The servants seemed intimidated but did as the mayor’s new wife asked. While they were occupied, she bought all kinds of things she didn’t know if she’d have a use for.

And one that she knew she would.

The liquid glittered in the vial as the grizzled Seam woman explained she’d need a syringe to inject it but it would last for six months at least. It cost most of her allowance, but Katniss handed over the exorbitant sum without hesitating.

“I’ll be back for another in six months,” Katniss promised the woman who gave her a toothy smile.

When she returned to the mansion, she dealt with her purchases and then moved to head upstairs. The door to the office flew open and out raced Peeta, cheeks red and tear stained as he collided with her then recoiled.

“Don’t touch me!”

“That is no way to speak to your mother, young man. Apologize this instant,” the mayor commanded and Peeta’s jaw clenched.

He stared at the carpet as he muttered. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

“Good. Get upstairs. We’re done talking about this. And none of that drawing nonsense!”

It was only after dinner when her hip still smarted from injecting herself with a Capitol grade birth control that she heard the servants whispering and learned what had happened.

“Another fist fight. And the teacher caught him drawing in class instead of taking notes. Again. Mayor Mellark is sending him away to school.”

They clucked their tongues and shook their heads, bemoaning the poor sweet boy for being cursed with such a wretched father.

“Dad, I don’t want to go,” Peeta said just days later, sounding scared and plaintive at the train station.

“You’ll go and you’ll succeed. The Capitol has the best schools available. And hopefully, they’ll teach you some discipline and respect. Make you into a real man. Don’t embarrass me.”

The boy’s lip quivered and he glanced over at Katniss. She should hate this boy for everything he stood for, but as tears welled up in his blue eyes, she succumbed and bent over in front of him to speak to him eye to eye.

“It won’t be that long. You’ll be home for the summer break,” she assured him, surprised when he threw his arms around her neck and squeezed the breath out of her.

Then he picked up his suitcase and went without another word.

Peeta was only gone a month before he came home. Quiet and studious. He spent most of his time in the garden, drawing. But not even the mayor’s sons were safe from the Reaping.

Katniss almost wished it was her, but it wasn’t. Nor was it Prim, and she breathed easy for the space of two minutes. It was the mayor’s middle son that year. He died in the shadow of the Cornucopia, the last victim of the bloodbath at the start of the 77th Hunger Games. He was only fourteen years old.

The day after the Victor was crowned dawned hot and muggy. The Mayor spent all morning sequestered in his office. Right before the mid day meal, he summoned Katniss to him.

She bit back her tears as the room rang out with the slapping of skin and his guttural grunts. She could see the back of a blonde head through the ivory curtains covering the windows. The desk dug a furrow into the front of her hips as he swore and then slapped her ass raw. Her soft whimpers of pain got him hard enough to finish.

When she tried to move away from him, his fingers bit into her hips, holding them together.

“You’re gonna give me another son. I want a Victor. Strong. A survivor like you. Not a milk sap weakling like that pussy out there.” She tried again to get free and he wrapped a hand around her neck to hold her in place. “Don’t move. I want my cum in you as long as possible. Don’t move, baby.”

She tried not to shudder as he whispered about how good a mother she already was to his son. How he wished she had married him sooner. Then maybe she would have had a chance to turn his youngest son into a real man, but he feared it was already too late for Peeta. He pet her back and held her down for almost half an hour. All while she could see that same son through the window, sitting in the gardens. Maybe she could have taught the middle son her illegal skills to help him survive the arena, the mayor growled. When he finally let her go, he told her to be ready to get fucked often.

Several weeks later, long after Peeta had gone back to the Capitol, the mayor stood mid chew from the dinner table and walked over to her. He grabbed her hand and placed it over his hardening dick.

“My cycle started this morning,” she told him. His face contorted in disgust but he dropped her hand and walked away, grabbing his plate and leaving her to eat in the dining room alone.

When her period ended, he fucked her three times a day. He burned through half a dozen bottles of pills from the Capitol to do it.

“It’s only been a few months. Took my first wife a close to a year to conceive each of our boys,” he said as sweat poured down his face and her fingernails dug into her thighs to hold her legs open like he ordered her to do. “Give. Me. A. Fucking. Victor.” He bit out the words as his thrusts stuttered and he came.

A whole year of submitting to him.

She found solace in what she could now that she was the mayor’s wife and her woods were forbidden to her. Most had looked the other way when she was just Katniss from the Seam, but she was pushing it now by frequenting the Hob. Katniss Mellark, Mayor Mellark’s wife had no place poaching in the Capitol’s woods.

Katniss gave away money as best she could and people slowly stopped sneering at her. She renewed her contraband birth control shot six months after her wedding. Prim blossomed under the tutelage of the apothecary. The mayor’s oldest son moved to District Five to begin a career working for the government there.

Peeta called home once a month and reported to Katniss in a monotone voice that classes were going well and no, he hadn’t been in any fights. The reports that came home from the teachers described a model student. Bright, caring, hard working, quiet and well behaved, well liked by all his peers. The mayor grunted in satisfaction whenever he read the reports.

Katniss didn’t get pregnant.

He could have anything he wanted, the mayor, but she refused to give him this. The mayor’s house grew more tense and quiet with each passing month. The servants gave her pitying looks every morning she gently lowered herself into her chair for breakfast. The cooks learned her favorite foods and made sure her plate was never without something she loved. She used her ample funds to make sure the servants and their families never wanted. But she was powerless to protect their children from the Reaping.

Every night, she listened for the midnight train leaving District Twelve, longing to just climb aboard and vanish into the night. But then what would happen to Prim?

One day in early May, Katniss came home from afternoon shopping to the sounds of fucking in her husband’s office. A shrill pitched series of moans and loud thumping. The averted gazes of the staff. She watched curiously from the stairs, looking down towards the office door as the woman left.

“Pass the salt please,” she said at dinner that night.

The mayor smashed his fists on the table and shouted that she could damn well get it herself. He left the room and flipped over a serving tray on his way out.

Everyone ignored the sounds of him swearing and grunting from the conservatory later. Ignored the gardner as she slipped out after the sounds ceased, ducking her head and wiping her mouth as she ran from the house.

The gardner had three daughters all of Reaping age. All pretty blonde girls. Katniss couldn’t fault the gardner for seeking extra security for them.

The door between her room and the mayor’s was locked that night and remained locked.

“He’s infertile,” Helena, one of the maids, whispered as Katniss knelt next to the woman and helped her clean up the shattered crystal decanter, the most recent victim of his rage. “He found out right before your one year anniversary.”

“How?” Katniss asked and the maid pursed her lips to shake her head as one of the butlers passed by them, examining his cufflinks and not bothering to help.

“Doctor told him it’s because the pills he takes to, you know…help him,” Helena told her when the butler had gone.

Katniss could feel her cheeks turn pink as she scrubbed harder to get the bourbon out of the carpet. The pills to make him stay hard.

“Apparently it does damage if you take too many.” Helena squeezed Katniss’ shoulder as she stood when they were done. The touch felt like understanding.

She’d never felt freer than she did in the next two weeks.

The mayor refused to touch her beyond superficial or ceremonial events. In public they smiled, the picture of a thriving Panem family. At home, she listened to the walls echo with the sounds of her husband fucking everyone but her. Desperate to prove he could get someone pregnant. She didn’t want to fuck him. But she didn’t want anyone else punished either.

Year after year dragged on. Children died to the Games, twenty-three at a time. The name Primrose Everdeen never called at a Reaping. Never attached to tesserae.

“There’s a summer program for those interested in politics,” Peeta announced on the phone, around the time he turned fourteen, sounding serious but his voice cracking on a few words. He cleared his throat and asked her to tell his father. “I’ll be home for the Reaping, but then I’ll return here.”

There was always a summer program in the Capitol. But he always came home for the Reaping and stayed until the end of the Games.

Katniss spent hours socializing with high placed District and Capitol officials. She played hostess to them all. The mayor fucked her once every blue moon, just to remind her that she belonged to him. He never stayed hard for long and told her it was because she was no longer tight.

“Your cunt is used the fuck up. Who you fucking on the sly? Huh? Who you fucking on the sly, bitch?”

“The baker,” she said because she knew he wouldn’t believe her if she told the mayor the truth. Told him that he was the only one who had used it. She didn’t want to fuck anyone.

“I’ll have him killed in the middle of the fucking square. What do you want for him? Hanging or firing squad?” He grew harder inside her as he said it and her stomach roiled at the evidence of violence working to arouse him.

“Go ahead. Take your pick,” she said as the mayor finally came.

“You think I won’t? You’re not fucking the baker. You’d be stupid if you were,” he panted over her neck and played with her hair. She shuddered in revulsion and he took it for desire. He stayed on top of her and swallowed one of his pills and when he was hard again, he stood up and shoved her to her knees. “Suck until I tell you to stop.”

The year Peeta and Primrose both turned sixteen, Katniss somehow wound up meeting him at the train station, stunned at how much he had changed in the past year. The boy with the quivering lip was long gone, replaced by a boy — almost a man — who waved at her and smiled warmly in greeting, whose gait was now a confident swagger. He already towered over her and dwarfed her in breadth.

Peeta didn’t really look anything like his father beyond the blonde hair and blue eyes. The shades weren’t even the same. She wondered if his features took after his mother. She hoped they did, but her mental picture of the mayor’s first wife had already hazed over with time.

Peeta’s deepened voice, almost like velvet – so much softer than his father’s – sent strange currents through her as he sat across the table from Katniss, calmly eating dinner and explaining new models of government being debated in the dorm halls at his school.

“That will never work,” the mayor insisted.

“But—“

“No foolish talk at dinner!” the mayor said and Peeta jumped when his father’s fist hit the table.

Katniss kept her eyes on her plate. After dinner, she went for a walk in the garden and ignored the screams from her husband’s window.

“My father’s an idiot.” Peeta’s voice startled her and she jumped this time, heart fluttering as he stepped from the shadows.

“What would you know?” Katniss asked harshly. “You’re still just a child.”

“I won’t be for much longer. And when I’m not, if I’m lucky enough to have a wife like you, I wouldn’t be making love with anyone but her. I’d want her screaming not to please me, but because I’m the only one who can please her.”

She stared at his mouth, the lush lines of his lips as he smiled.

“I’d find every way to make you come and then discover twenty more just because I’d want you completely satisfied.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that. I’m – I’m your –”

“You’re not my mother,” he said, but it wasn’t cruel like the way his oldest brother said it. It left her panties wet. “Good night, Katniss.”

The day of the Reaping, Peeta stood in the square with every other child at risk. She found herself wishing safety for him as well this year.

His name wasn’t called. Neither was Prim’s.

As the Tributes made their way towards the Capitol, Peeta swam in the pool behind the Mayor’s house. His legs and arms powerful as he cut through the water.

Katniss watched him from an upstairs window. Unable to get his words about her out of her head. It wasn’t right. He was too young. He didn’t know what he was talking about, she was sure. Bold words he surely uttered to make himself sound older than he really was rang in her head. Her breasts grew heavy and her thighs slick with arousal with each successive lap he swam. She pressed her palm against the wall and her breath fogged up the window. No one had ever satisfied her the way he claimed to want to. She couldn’t give in to the illicit promise in his words.

He was still a child. And she was married to his father.

She turned away from the window and avoided him the rest of the time he was home. The morning he left, she faked a headache.

Two more years rolled by and Katniss listened to the whispers. Traded at the back door of the mansion with anyone who brought wares she could concoct an excuse for needing. Gale was one of her best suppliers. The mayor of Twelve served wild grown berries and fresh game, wild turkey and squash grown in secret just beyond the fence. Fish from streams in the woods, apples from the trees behind the town square. Guests from the Capitol and other districts marveled at the wild bounty of such a poor district.

Katniss owned shoes for every occasion and dresses to match. She filled the mayor’s closet with clothes made by merchants, the fibers plucked in secret from the woods around Twelve by Seam hands. Homemade remedies for sickness, old glass containers painted and dusted with shimmering powders, and rough hewn sculptures she claimed were art filled their shelves. In a way they were art, a story of desperation and starvation carved into loose bits of scrap wood.

She bought secrets with each purchase. Whispers of discontent. She followed dinner conversation assiduously, seeking the clues of arms and Peacekeeper movements. Signs of unrest in other districts. She felt she might burst with the information, not knowing where to turn with it or what to do as it built up inside her. She read the mayor’s Capitol papers and watched the news feeds, dutifully giving him highlights and reserving her analysis for herself.

The summer after he turned eighteen, Peeta came home for his final Reaping. Dinners were stiff and formal, the mayor holding tight to his anger at his son as Peeta touted the theaters, the arts and the museums of the Capitol and how bringing some of that culture to Twelve could help the people.

“They do not need art. Art is a distraction from labor.”

“Or art could be a form of joy that gives the laborer hope.”

The mayor stood abruptly at this. “Watch your tongue, boy.”

Peeta’s eyes flicked over to Katniss and dropped to the table as a smile played around his handsome lips.

“My apologies, father. I only meant that such hope would give them a reason to work harder.”

She managed to avoid Peeta for two days until one night she found herself hungry and walked the dark hall towards the kitchens. She ran into him there and he offered to cook for her while she sat and they talked. Words flew between them as fast as his hands worked and she soon found herself laughing, enjoying this easy version of him.

He told her about school and his classmates. The districts he’d been to on holidays with their families or on school outings. The beauty to be found in their world, hidden beneath the ugliness. The potential for the world to be beautiful again. He didn’t say that exactly, but it’s the foolish hope she heard in her head as he talked. Maybe their world could be good again, but so much would have to change first.

She watched his clever fingers as we worked and ignored the tightening in her belly when he licked them clean with a sensual smack. He caught her looking and smiled. The midnight train horn echoed through the night.

“When he told me to watch my tongue, do you know what I was thinking?”

“Peeta,” she tried to warn but he persisted.

“I was thinking that I’d like to watch my tongue working in and out of your wet pussy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered.

“Then teach me,” he whispered back. Heat curled in her belly and her body craved.

She left without eating and lay in bed, tossing restlessly until morning.

The next day, she saw him in the garden, sketching again. He really was quite talented. The mayor grumbled at him over dinner for wasting time on useless frivolities when he could be courting a wife of high position in the Capitol, engaging in politics, working to improve Panem, or a hundred other more important things.

That night, Katniss tossed in bed, once more unable to sleep. She could finally stand it no more. She ambled down the hallway, thinking she’d take a bath to relax herself, but was too absorbed in her thoughts to notice the shaft of light under the door. She walked in without knocking and came to a halt, gasping at the sight that greeted her.

Alerted by the sound, Peeta turned in the glass walled shower to face her and a smile slowly curled his lips up. She swallowed and her hand flew to her neck as she watched him. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body. Toned and muscular with water running over him. His hair hanging over his ears and eyes, straightened and lengthened with the weight of the water saturating the normally curly locks. Blonde curls scattered over his chest, a dark trail of them leading her gaze down. Down to where his hand worked his stiff shaft in a steady rhythm. His teeth parted on a heavy breath and his lashes fluttered and still she could not move or look away.

“Shut the door, Katniss,” he said, barely audible over the sound of the water. She did as he said and leaned back on it as their eyes met. His hand pumped faster and his unoccupied palm flattened on the glass separating them. Steam curled through the air and he moaned softly right before his cum splattered across the shower door. Thick, milky white streams of it.

They stood there as he continued to pump himself. Until the last spurt coated glass and his shoulders heaved. Then he smiled and, still holding his cock with one hand, trailed two fingers of the other through his own semen, gathering it on the pads and offering it up to her.

“Want a taste?”

Her hand grasped wildly for the knob and she fled. Fled to her room where she paced and tried to quench the fire burning in her belly. But it was no use.

Katniss laid down on her window seat, dropped her hand to her navel and caressed, thinking of his fingers and lips and his intense blue gaze. His fit body and his charm and what it might feel like to have his face and his tongue between her legs. Her fingers in his hair. Slowly, her fingers traveled down her body, down to tug up the hem of her nightdress, over quivering skin as her thighs dropped open and her breathing grew ragged.

She ached for him to touch her as she’d never ached before. It made no sense. He was a spoiled, entitled Capitol brat. She should hate him with every cell in her body. But she came with a few frantic swipes of her fingers and the idea of Peeta’s tongue between her folds. She came hard and curled into a ball as the spasms wracked her body.

It was only as she lay there in the afterglow of release that it occurred to her. All he said was to shut the door. She could have left and then closed it. But she had stayed.

She had stayed because she had wanted to witness his pleasure. She wanted to take pleasure in watching him.

The shame of what she had done kept her in her room for five days until she had to leave it for the Reaping.

Prim was safe. Safe for real at last.

When Peeta left for a fancier school in the Capitol, one of higher education, Katniss braved taking him to the train station. He smiled at her and hugged her close, whispering that she’d be in his thoughts while he was gone.

In the autumn, Prim married the shoemaker’s youngest son. He moved into the apothecary and began training with her to take over the business eventually. Katniss was not invited to the toasting. But at least Prim was safe. By spring, Prim was pregnant and Katniss knew she would stay with the mayor, if only to keep that child safe too.

The next time Peeta came home, he was twenty and sporting a line of stubble on his jaw, his normally impeccable suit recklessly disheveled. Top buttons undone, tie loosened and swinging free, sleeves pushed up and his shoes scuffed. A hard edge in his blue eyes.

She followed him when he snuck out at night, telling herself it was because she didn’t want him to get in trouble with his father. Even the mayor’s son was subject to curfew.

She expected a trip to the slag heap or a shack in the Seam, a clandestine tryst with a woman.

Instead she watched him lean against a pole of the fence surrounding the district and light a cigarette. Trees grew close to this section of fence and cast shadows obscuring her view. She almost missed the papers passed through the dead wires into a gloved hand.

She left after that as Peeta stayed to finish his cigarette. He came home smelling of cheap perfume and smoke, with his clothes even more disheveled, a shirt tail hanging out and a smear of makeup on the collar, his hair messed up.

She stood there as his father lectured him about propriety and breaking curfew, about setting the example for the district as the mayor’s son, but while the words seemed harsh, the tone was proud. And once again, Katniss didn’t miss the handoff. This time it was a box of prophylactics. Capitol grade protection given to the mayor’s youngest son with a cheeky smile and a dirty wink. A pride and relief that “maybe he is just like his old man.”

Peeta entertained at dinners, making all the overprimped visitors laugh loudly and talk longer. Katniss held back a scowl at how easily he got them to open up, how deftly he flirted with both men and women alike. How easily he slid away with them to “show them the gardens.” But she guessed it was because Peeta was just like them.

Only he wasn’t.

Peeta treated everyone with kindness and respect. Dignity. From the diamond laced ladies of the Capitol to the lowest coal miner begging in the streets of District Twelve.

He snuck out at all hours and returned acting drunk or recently fucked, his footsteps loud and disruptive in the late night, but each time she followed him, all he did was walk along the District perimeter and smoke or disappear into The Hob well after the black market had closed down. Sometimes he wandered to the train station at night. She hid in the shadows and watched him laughing and conversing with the train workers, leaning against the back car and casually smoking a cigarette. Other nights, he played cards with Thread and some of the other Peacekeepers. She couldn’t stomach the sight of them laughing and talking boisterously.

And she couldn’t catch him with any women, try as she might. Or men. Not so much as one desperate Seam girl sucking his dick for a meal. There were the Capitol visitors who returned from the gardens flushed and bright eyed, but Katniss could never quite catch him in the act.

Katniss needed to know what Peeta was doing. It was consuming her.

She watched as he left with his father one day, carrying baggage and headed to the train station. The mayor had business in the Capitol and asked his son to see him off. He’d be gone for two weeks, and Peeta for at least an hour, giving Katniss plenty of time.

“I’ll take care of that, Meredith. I’ve got some energy I need to burn,” she told the maid and took the cleaning supplies from her hands. She ignored the profuse thanks as the woman hobbled away, her pregnant belly hindering her movements.

With a deep breath, Katniss entered Peeta’s room and set aside the supplies to quickly search his drawers. She grasped behind the furniture or up inside the drawers. Between the mattresses, she found half a dozen sketch books filled to the brim. Images of people from all walks of life, from the Districts, the Capitol, and everywhere in between. There were even some of her and the skill with which he captured every face took her breath away. Stunning landscapes and blindingly accurate portrayals of birds, animals, and plants. His father mocked him for his art, but Katniss wondered if he would if he knew how talented his son was.

In the bedside stand, she found nothing suspicious except an opened and half empty box of condoms. She dropped the box, scattering the foil wrapped packages as her gut squeezed in pain. Falling to her knees, Katniss gathered the items.

Her eyes flicked up as she tried to stand and she froze. Slid a hand beneath the bed and discovered a slit cut into the bottom. Reaching her hand inside, her fingers lit on an envelope. Her heart hammered in anticipation as she slid it loose. Leaving the condoms scattered, she stood and opened the envelope. Palms sweating as her eyes scanned the contents and her brain tried to deny what they meant.

“What are you doing searching my room?” His whispered words made her jump and spin. His fingers closed around her wrist and she stared up at him, struggling to gain her freedom. Peeta’s grip on her tightened, became almost painful. He smiled at her and her pulse fluttered, her skin vibrating beneath his hold.

“Let me go.”

“I can’t,” he said and the wavering note of desperation in his voice called to her.

Katniss did the only thing she could think of in the moment. She rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. His lips went pliant in seconds. Her fingers wove through his curly hair to grab hold of something steady as her entire world disintegrated.

Peeta was a rebel. A spy. A traitor.

As the pieces clicked into place, she fell back on his bed, dropping the damning evidence and taking him down with her as he moaned around her tongue and discovered her mouth with his. Her greedy hands searched under his clothes for skin. And her nails scraped over it when she found it.

“Do I have to fuck you into silence?” he whispered into her neck.

“Peeta, we can’t,” she whined, and yet her hands still grasped at the fastenings of his trousers.

“I locked the door. He’ll never know.”

They shed their clothes down to their underwear then he knelt on the floor and tugged her ankles until she was splayed before him, legs dangling over the edge of his bed.

“Fuck I can’t wait to taste you, Katniss. I’ll bet you’re delicious. Forbidden fruit always is.” She grabbed hold of his duvet and stared up at the carved and gilded ceiling, her breath raspy as his touch grazed her over her panties. “Soak these panties for me. Soak them with your need. Look at me while I touch you.”

Katniss lifted her head and their eyes locked together as his fingers stroked and pressed and his lips whispered kisses and words of longing and need to her thighs. She moaned and he shushed her. There were still servants in the house, after all.

When her panties were good and soaked, he slid them from her body and she tore off her bra, fondling her own breasts for him and pinching her nipples as heat settled firmly between her thighs.

“You are magnificent. You should be worshiped by someone who can appreciate how incredible you are,” he murmured and shoved her panties in his bedside drawer then shucked his own underwear. Katniss bit her lip to keep from groaning at his cock. Straight and thick, impossibly hard and embraced with coarse golden curls.

She wanted his cock but instead she got his mouth. He knelt again and inhaled deeply the fragrance of her arousal before latching his lips to hers, his blue eyes focused on hers, daring her to deny that she wanted this. That she needed him. She squirmed at first, a stranger to the sensations of a mouth there, but his wriggling tongue and insistent fingers soon had her writhing desperately against him. Then coming and pinching back a scream of relief.

“I’m gonna make you come like this again, Katniss,” he promised and draped her limp legs over his shoulders. “I’m gonna make you come like this until dinner.”

Peeta refused to relent. Refused to let her go. Making her come with his tongue pressed to her clit, inside her lips, then again on her clit with his finger slicked in lube and teasing her ass.

He did things to her she’d never dreamt possible and made her both curse and praise his Capitol education. As the sun sank lower, he finally stood and smiled down at her.

“Stay there. Please,” he said and with two dozen harsh strokes of his cock, he came all over her belly. When he was done, he gazed at her in wonder and gasped out two words. “A masterpiece.”

She lay there, soaked in sweat and his seed, her breathing harsh and her body exhausted yet still needy for more. She bit back disappointment as he put his shorts on and offered her bra to her.

Instead of taking it, she swirled her fingers through his cum and sucked it down her throat. His jaw dropped and she shrugged. “I wanted a taste.”

“Fuck,” he whispered and she stood, taking his undershirt from his hands and using it to clean herself. Then she dressed and slid out the door to go take a shower, hoping he couldn’t see the way her legs wobbled with weakness.

They didn’t speak during dinner. Not a word. But when he snuck out to the train station that night, she followed him. She watched him lean against the caboose and smoke a cigarette as he talked to the crews. When he finished that one, he lit his second and asked the crew about a new sign. They all looked in the direction he pointed, but Katniss watched him. Saw him affix something beneath the rear platform of the train car.

He waved good night shortly after and crushed his cigarette out as he left the train station. She cornered him and pushed him into the shadows.

“You’re a rebel spy,” she whispered and he grinned then turned on her so that his body shielded her from view, trapped her against the wall. Trapped her right where she wanted to be.

“And you’ve seen too much. How can I persuade you to keep this pretty mouth quiet?” He trailed his thumb over her bottom lip as he spoke.

“Kiss me,” she said and met him as his mouth descended towards hers. Their teeth clashed and pain radiated through her skull at the contact, but she refused to stop.

She wanted him. She wanted him for herself and since she’d turned eighteen and married the mayor, she had nothing she could call her own.

She wanted Peeta to be hers.

Her hands pushed at his jacket. He pulled her legs up and around his waist, pressed himself into her groin so she could feel his erection on her clit. He rocked his hips and swallowed her moans as they kissed. Then his lips trailed forbidden fire down her throat.

“Fuck me, Peeta. Fuck me hard and deep. Oh fuck I need you to fuck me right here,” she whispered as his hand ran up her thigh, up beneath her dress to the apex of her thighs. She twisted and thrust herself towards his fingers, desperate to have his touch on her aching nub.

“You want me to use my fingers or my cock?”

“Oh! Both,” she gasped and clung to him as his fingers entered her. One finger and then a second as she whined and bit into his shoulder.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he urged and she rocked her hips, caught his thumb on her clit and cried out. He kissed her to silence her and then the train engine fired up, the loud noise covering the sounds she made as she came. And then their relieved moans as he entered her.

The second she felt his coarse hair on her lips, she moved. Rolling and rocking and unwilling to give an inch as he drove into her and she sang quiet praises at how well he filled her. How much he pleased her. He fucked her as the train warmed up. As the wheels squealed when it began to move. Her body arched and bounced and then sprang loose. She clung to his shoulders as her release rocked through her and coaxed his out of him too.

“Fuck, Katniss. I can’t stop wanting you,” he moaned in the dark. Right before the midnight train blared it’s horn.

They had two weeks. Two weeks of fucking in the closets, behind the Hob, in the middle of the night when the rest of the household was fast asleep. Katniss even risked taking Peeta into the woods so she could fuck him by the shores of the lake where she often fished as a girl. But it wasn’t all fucking.

She told him everything. About watching Prim grow from a distance and not being able to be a part of that. She told him about missing her sister and the longing she felt for her woods every day that she breathed. The desire she kept in her heart to watch their world burn so she could finally be free.

She told him everything. All the pent up knowledge of years of hunting with her father, how to survive in the woods. She spilled out years worth of gossip. Who was loyal to the Capitol and who was lukewarm, and those who were too eagerly loyal to not be hiding something.

They entertained together in his father’s absence and people remarked what a fine young man and model son he turned out to be, a line she taunted him with when she was grinding her pussy on his face later that night. He responded by throwing her off of him and then pounding her to a mind numbing orgasm with his cock buried inside her lips and his hand over her mouth to stop her ecstatic squeals from getting too loud.

“I’m a terrible son,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and his voice soft as she came.

He spoke about his brother who died in the games and the blows his father would strike his sons to discipline them, always on the back where no one could see beneath the fine clothes. He told her about the many faces he wore. The masks used to extract information and secrets. The mayor’s playboy wastrel youngest son with a talent for art and politics but no real ambition. Skilled at seduction and kissing secrets out of bored Capitol socialite wives. Women who needed a good fuck and an incredible orgasm and couldn’t find it in their marriage bed. Women who posed for him so he could draw them, after he’d made them come.

“As a souvenir for them to remember me by,” he explained with disgust in his voice. Then he told her it all started with his classmates’ mothers.

“Seduce me. Show me your best moves,” Katniss teased and he chuckled.

“Thought I already did.”

But he kissed her and reached for the pearl necklace she’d discarded on the bedside table when she’d shed her clothes. Peeta told her to get on her knees and she did so, eager to suck his cock, something she’d discovered she could take great pleasure in as long as it was Peeta’s dick in her mouth. Instead, he knelt behind her and threaded the pearl strand between her thighs. He slid the pearls over her panties, back and forth, the ridges created by the string of orbs catching on her clit. He did that and whispered to her about her spirit and her strength and how she inspired him. He whispered that she was his everything.

He teased her to the brink with the pearls and his words until she was so wet her panties stuck between her folds and her nails bit crescents into his thighs as she held him in place behind her.

“Now fuck me. Take me how you want me,” he told her and held the pearls in place as she lowered herself onto his cock so they rubbed over her clit and slid between her folds as she rode him and came with stifled moans, making the pearls slick with their sex. After, they lay in his bed as late into the night as they dared, listening to the midnight train leaving.

The mayor returned. Katniss rebuffed all of Peeta’s veiled advances and innuendos, constrained by the presence of his father. Peeta grew sullen. Her heart ached. Burst with pain, deprived of his touch. She wore the pearls every day and fingered them to seek strength.

The masks suffocated and chafed, but they continued the ruse. Peeta snuck out at night to send messages and information off to contacts in other Districts. They played their parts, entertaining their guests and gleaning every whisper of rumor and every drop of truth they possibly could.

The entire happy family took a holiday tour of the Arenas and Katniss tried not to show her disgust.

Then to the Capitol where she saw in blinding oversaturated hues just how deep the Game went. She saw it in a mirrored window as Peeta whispered into another woman’s ear, his words making the woman blush and giggle. Then they disappeared for hours. Bile rose in her throat when he joined her for breakfast the next morning.

“You were out late last night,” she sneered and the mayor laughed, commented on his son’s prowess with the ladies and Katniss’ overprotective motherly instincts. Peeta smirked at his father and slathered butter over his biscuit. But there was a brief look of pain in his eyes meant only for Katniss.

On the train back to District Twelve, she felt the walls closing in on her. Near midnight, she capitulated sleep and, checking the corridors, made her way to Peeta’s compartment, locking the door behind her. She slid a hand over his mouth to keep him from making a sound and woke him with a whisper. His body jolted and a knife glittered in the moonlight. He stopped himself right as the blade reached her throat. It nicked the pearls still draped around her neck and never reached her skin.

He dropped the blade and she dropped her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They whispered the words to each other on repeat as their bodies rocked with the motion of the train and the clanging bells as they raced through an unknown district covered the sounds they made as they both succumbed to euphoria.

“I fucking hate this,” she whispered as she lay on top of him, spent but unwilling to leave just yet and knowing that she must.

“Only a little longer and then we’ll be free.”

She slipped away in the early morning and cried into her pillow until she needed to rise and dress.

“It’s disgusting. What do they hope to gain?” the mayor said to his son as they shared a drink and watched the news reports from the Capitol. Rebels had taken control of Districts Eleven, Four, Eight, and Seven. Additional Peacekeepers were on their way to all other Districts. All officials were on alert to capture spies. Katniss watched from the doorway as Peeta brushed off his father’s concerns, placated him with assurances that the might of the Capitol would overcome. This was only a minor setback.

Fire danced on the screen, mesmerizing her. Hypnotizing and beautiful. This was how the world looked when it was burning.

The pair was so engrossed with their conversation, they didn’t notice Katniss in the doorway behind them. Or the change to a report on wanted spies and traitors. A technology genius and former Victor from District Three who had vanished. A pair of stylists from the Capitol and the famed film director, Cressida.

They were still absorbed as the screen switched to a grainy, shadowy picture of a man in a train station, identified only as The JabberJay, a suspected spy and rebel conspirator from the Capitol, real identity unknown. A breathtaking sum offered for any information that would lead to the man’s capture.

She held her breath until the picture changed. Her knees wobbled in relief that the mayor hadn’t even noticed his son’s back pictured on the television.

“You need to be more careful,” she urged at the back door as he slipped out into the night.

“I’ll be fine,” Peeta said with a smile and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back before midnight.”

She couldn’t sleep. She paced and then wandered to the kitchen for a glass of milk. It tasted sour on her tongue as she waited. She sat by the window in her room and let her head rest on the glass as the midnight train blared it’s horn and still no sign of Peeta.

Katniss contemplated her options. She had no idea where to start looking for him. She’d put herself at risk if she just wandered the district aimlessly. And if she found him, she could put him in even more danger than he already was. It was better to wait and trust that he could take care of himself. He’d been a spy for years and knew what he was doing.

She woke stiff and unrested, and she stumbled from the window seat, downstairs to a household in uproar. The mayor shouting instructions to have the District turned upside down. His youngest son had disappeared.

That night, the mayor told Katniss to dress in her pearls and pretend nothing had happened.

“You tell everyone that Peeta went back to school early,” he growled and she nodded as she sat at her vanity to apply her makeup. She understood the game. She nearly gagged when he placed a hand around her throat to force her to look at him in the mirror. “My son is not a traitor…understood?”

She swallowed beneath his grip, her skin pushing into his and her windpipe constricting under the hold. “Our son is not a traitor,” she croaked.

“Good girl,” the mayor said and released his hold.

For weeks, she played the game. She knew the rules now since Peeta had told her everything he did. She walked late into the night delivering the packets Peeta used to. At first, she had no way of knowing if they fell into the right hands. But she smiled at dinners and fabricated stories about Peeta’s education in the Capitol, oozing charm and loving happiness for her husband.

She paid visits to Thread and the Peacekeepers under the guise of concern for her missing stepson and the future of Panem, but really to gain their trust through gifts of food and drink in a well crafted helpless rich wife act. There was no word or sign of Peeta but her visits were never fruitless.

At night, she listened for the sounds of the midnight train and held onto her memories, once more wishing she could just climb aboard one and vanish into the night.

But she had a new purpose now.

Months passed and she grew angry in secret. He left her here. If they’d caught him, they would have paraded him in front of a crowd and executed him publicly, gruesomely. Made an example of him. Which meant he’d left her. Peeta left her here to suffer and probably to die. At least, she would die on the inside without him.

Winter arrived and she contemplated ways to end her life. She had no one left. Peeta had lied to her and then left her. Used her. She was certain of it. He had seduced her and used her for the information she could provide. Worst of all, she had fallen willingly into his arms, had believed it was all real. Just like one of his Capitol lovers.

They lost District Six and then Ten to the rebels. Nine and Five were tenuous at best. Thirteen came out of the shadows and Katniss wondered if theirs were the hands reaching through the fences to grasp hold of the information she and Peeta had possessed.

Winter turned to spring.

Or maybe Peeta had been killed in quiet. Maybe Snow couldn’t risk such a high profile, publicly known traitor. The son of Twelve’s mayor, a favorite of Snow’s, a man who could have had everything and anything he wanted. Who else might begin to question the Capitol if he had betrayed them?

She had kept her shot to prevent pregnancy current for eight years, but in that moment of weakness, for the first time ever, she briefly wished it would have failed her. Just once. Then she’d at least have a piece of Peeta to love. The moment passed and she remembered that she couldn’t bear to bring a child into this life. Not even Peeta’s.

Katniss sank into her bath water and cried with her face hidden beneath the scented bubbles. It would be better if he were already dead. So she told herself that he was gone forever. At least he was free that way.

The longer Peeta stayed missing, and the worse things became for Twelve, the easier it became to convince herself. The mayor was angry enough in public for both of them. Punishments increased as the mayor desperately tried to hold onto Snow’s favor, and Katniss took more risks with what she revealed to the rebels.

She shook her head and agreed with the mayor’s disgust at the reports of assassinations, sabotage, derailed trains carrying Peacekeepers or supplies, many of which Katniss knew were at least partially her fault.

Her fault.

The words made her smile in secret. At night when she touched herself and bit back cries of Peeta’s name. He had left her, either by design or by death, but she still wanted him. She could understand him now. Even though he was gone.

Reports of new spies appeared on the news feed. They called her The Mockingjay and wherever her information aided the rebels, they painted the bird they named her for in red. As the months dragged on, the Capitol bled fear, the stench of it replacing all their honeyed perfumes. They whispered her name – The Mockingjay – over dinners, clutching their jewels and bemoaning what would be lost next.

Feeling the noose tightening, the mayor begged his friends in the Capitol to shelter him, just until this little rebellion was quelled. But fear is a powerful weapon, as is rumor. And everyone knew that Twelve’s mayor was close to being replaced. No one had space for him and his wife.

The year Peeta would have turned twenty-one, there would be no Reaping. The night before it was scheduled to occur, the mayor’s wife paid a visit to the main power substation and left two baskets of treats with the Peacekeepers guarding it. The baskets contained four bottles of cold beer laced with sleep syrup. Enough to knock them out for an hour. On her way out, she dropped an apple packed with explosives and a timing device. Dropped it at just the right spot to roll where she needed it to go.

Gale had helped her build it, his eyes dark and suspicious when she’d asked for it. She couldn’t tell him what it was for. She couldn’t put her old friend at risk if it failed.

She had sent word to the rebels weeks ago. Telling them in code what their window would be. Now it was up to them to take advantage.

When she was done, she went home to soak in her tub. Afterwards, she put on her pearls and satin robe over her nightdress. She braided her hair and waited.

District Twelve burned that night. Rebels swarmed over the deactivated fences and gunned down Peacekeepers in the streets. Screams rent the night.

The mayor barricaded himself in his mansion with his wife, holding several of the maids hostage at gunpoint. It wasn’t enough. Rebels and Seam and Merchant alike overpowered him and forced him to his knees on the front steps. They dragged Katniss out the door behind him, kicking and screaming. Fighting for her life. Putting on a good show because in reality, she welcomed death by now.

As someone held a gun to her bent head, she reached up and twisted the pearls around her fingers so the last thing that went through her brain before the bullet would be thoughts of Peeta.

“Stop!” Katniss risked looking up at the rebel in all black as he approached the steps, a familiar swagger to his gait. Her pulse stopped in disbelief. “Not her.”

“She’s the mayor’s wife.”

“No. She’s The Mockingjay.”

Katniss heard the mayor yelling obscenities at both of them as Peeta stepped into the light and smiled at her. She didn’t see the mayor struggling against his captors as he tried to get to her, her eyes too busy taking in Peeta – healthy and whole and alive and safe. Here, with her.

She heard the crack of the rifle butt on the mayor’s skull as Peeta ordered the rebels to let her go. She barreled down the steps and flew into Peeta’s arms, barely flinching when the rebels lodged a bullet in the mayor’s skull, silencing his furious tirade.

“You’re alive. You’re back,” she sobbed and he bent his head so that his lips just touched her neck, right above the pearls, and warmth spread through her. It felt so impossibly good to be in his arms again.

“I’m sorry I stayed out so late,” he whispered and she laughed as the rebels torched the mansion behind them, the flames crackling high into the midnight sky.

[monigheandonn1743]

Ceart-leth

Previous Chapters

Chapter 23

Holy mother of God.

Heart pounding and limbs shaking, he collapsed sideways onto the bed, gripping Claire arse and pulling her with him. Her inner muscles were still clenching and quivering around him, making his cock twitch and his body tremble with the aftershocks of his release. Christ alive, he’d never felt pleasure like it, and just the thought of leaving her warm, wet, welcoming body made him want to weep in despair.

“Are ye well, mo gràdhag?” He panted as he threaded his arms around her and pulled her hot, sweaty body as close to his as he could. She was as breathless as he was, and her leg visibly trembled as she hooked it around his, keeping him locked deep inside her.

“Well?” She breathed, shakily as she burrowed into his chest and touched her lips against his hammering heart. “I’m euphoric.”  

“Aye, so am I.” He laughed, kissing her hair and pulling her closer.

He’d never imagined that taking a woman could be as exquisite as it had been with Claire. They’d been one heart, one soul, joined in more than just body, and for the first time in his life, he’d lost himself completely. With her gentle encouragement, and soft words of love, he’d let his mind go free, and allowed his pleasure to out-weight his fears.  

He’d already been teetering on the brink, tempted to have her regardless of the consequences. Since that moment in her rooms at Leoch, he’d been neigh on desperate to take her, to pummel her depths and claim her as his own. He’d needed her like air, and it had only been his fears, new and old, that had stopped him at the lake.

But then his beautiful wife had asked him to make love to her and he’d refused. He’d let his fears come between them once again, and the disappointment in her eyes had cut him to the core. But like always, she’d accepted his limitations, and done what she could to reassure him despite her own sorrow. Yet, he’d still let his past rule his present, and Claire had been paying the price for a woman long dead.  

Though still shrouded in guilt for his own carnal needs, in the end, when she’d fallen apart in his arms, he’d been powerless to deny them what they so badly needed.

And he couldn’t regret it.

She’d been right there with him. Rising and falling in time with his thrust, calling his name breathlessly, and crying out in pleasure. He’d hurt her, of that he had no doubt. He’d seen it in her eyes. But while that knowledge pained him, he couldn’t regret that either, because through that pain, she’d become his.

And she’d enjoyed it.

The deep, wild love that they’d made had pleasured her as much as it had him.  

Just the remembrance of her tight clenching muscles, and her desperate cry of exaltation, had new sparks of lightening striking deep in his stomach. His hips jerked against hers, and she gasped, spasming around his softened cock.  

“Jesus, Claire.” He groaned, as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back. She looked up at him, her swollen lips parted, and her eyes hooded and wonton with desire. “I canna get enough of ye.” He growled as he claimed her lips and thrust further into her depths.  

She whimpered, and tensed in his arms, and he froze.

“It’s okay.” She whispered against his lips, attempting to reignite the flames, as she rolled her hips against him. But his hand clamped down on her arse, stilling her movements, and he pulled back to look down at her.

“Nay, t’is not…”

“I’m fine.”

“No, Claire, ye not.” He insisted pulling her head further back. “Christ, I can tell well enough that ye in pain.”

“Jamie…”

“Hush.” He ordered gently, as he moved his hips and slipped out of her. She winced, and he raised an eyebrow as he moved his hand up to cup her face. “Ye hurtin’ an’ ye dinna need to hide it because ye fear my reaction. I was there with ye, Claire. I saw ye pleasure. Hell, lass, I felt it. So I canna doubt that ye enjoyed it.” He whispered as he brushed a lock of hair off her face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, ye’v nothin’ to be sorry for. This is my fault, t’is I who’s sorry. I’v let my past control our future, an’ I shouldna have. But I was afraid.” He admitted, as he lent to gently kiss her forehead. “Afraid of hurtin’ ye, afraid of losing ye, and afraid of ye fearin’ me.  

“I shoulda trusted ye. What’s between us is different. Yer different, an’ I’m different with ye. But by being afraid, I have made ye fear me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” She protested vehemently.

“Aye, ye are.”

“I’m not…”

“Claire, ye constantly fearin’ my reaction.” He argued. “Ye worried that one wrong move will send me runnin’. Ye wouldna told me of the blood oath if ye didna have to, an even when ye did, ye took the responsibility for my actions. Then, although ye wanted it yerself, ye tried to stop me from takin ye because ye feared I’d regret it. An’ now that I have, ye hiding ye pain because ye fear my response.

“It canna go on, Sassenach. Ye’v made me happier than I’v ever been in my life. Ye my wife an’ I want to spend my life lovin ye an’ raisin’ a family with ye. So no more fears. We’re in this life together, an’ I willna continue let my past create a chasm between us.”

“You’re right, but I’m not blameless, Jamie. I should have trusted you as well, and I’m sorry.” She whispered, as she ran her hand across his shoulder and up into his hair. “I love you.”

“As I love ye.” He smiled, “Now, tell me. Are ye in pain?”

“A bit…okay a lot.” She amended, blushing, when he raised his eyebrow again. “You are bigger than average, you know, and for a first time, that’s a lot to take.”

“Aye, I ken.” He smirked flashing her a wink. Men weren’t exactly shy when it came to pissing or bathing, so he’d seen enough cocks to know he was well endowed.

“Cocky bastard.” She laughed, slapping his arm. “You weren’t exactly gentle either.”

“An’ who’s fault is that? I seem to remember ye beggin’ for more.”

“Yeah, I’m a regular Oliver Twist.”

“Who?”

“What? Oh my God!” She gasped sitting up and wincing as she stared down at him wide eyed... and naked. “Oliver Twist hasn’t even been written yet! Or Great Expectations, or Pride and Prejudice, or Dracula…Christ, I could make us a fortune, I’v got some of them on my phone! I should totally rewrite the Harry Potter books...”

“Are ye really talkin about books, when ye lyin’ naked in my bed?” He growled, grabbing her waist and dragging her back down. “With ye breast right there beggin’ to be…”

“Yes…and…oh...” She squeaked when he lent down and bit her nipple. “Ah…Jamie.”

“Aye, that’s more like it.” He murmured against her skin, before soothing the stink with his tongue. “Now tell me…ye reached yer pleasure twice. One straight after the other.”

“That’s not a question.” She smirked, tilting her head back as his fingers replaced his lips on her breast.

“How?” He clarified, pinching her nipple, and almost feeling her gasp in his awakening cock. “The ache of wantin ye hasna left me, an’ I could take ye again now. But if I’d reached my pleasure in ye hand, like ye did mine, I couldna have taken ye then.”

“Call it an unfair advantage.” She moaned, as he twisted and pulled at her pebbled flesh. “Woman don’t need…ah, God, Jamie…we don’t need recovery time…Jesus ah…”

“What do ye need, lass?”

“For you to stop teasing and to make me come.”

“Come where?”

“Nowhere…Christ…make me come, it means make me orgasm…to make me find my pleasure.” She explained haltingly as she writhed on the bed beside him.  

“Mmm.” He hummed storing that away for further use, as he twisted her nipple again.“Ye like this?”  

“God yes! Don’t you?”

“I dinna ken.” He shrugged as he let his fingers begin a slow trail down her stomach. Nobody had ever touched him like Claire did, he’d never felt a woman’s embrace as he took her.  

Annalise had lain like the dead, with her hands and legs flat on the bed, clutching the sheets and screwing her eyes closed.  

She’d never been a part of it with him.  

Not like Claire had.

“Then we’ll have to find out.” She whispered, sobering slightly at his admission.  

“Aye, I suppose we will.”

He smiled at her, then looked down to follow the path his fingers were taking. But as he got to her naval he stopped and slowly drew them back up her body.

Shit.

It was no wonder she was in pain.

There was blood, and a fair amount of it, on her inner thighs and hip where his hand had held her. It was on his legs too, as well as his hardened cock, and around the edges of his nail.

She’d warned him that, with her courses, making love in the bed would be messy, and he truly wasn’t bothered by the sight. He’d seen enough blood in his time to be immune to it. But that didn’t make the sight any less alarming.  

The fact that his cock looked like it had been massacred, was bad enough. But to see so much blood coming from his wife was horrifying.  

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss her lips tenderly. She’d explained this to him, told him the whole process of a woman’s cycle. Of how and why a woman bled for five days and didn’t die.  

And he’d promised her, not ten minutes ago, that he would let go of his fears, and he would.  

It was perfectly normal, he reminded himself. Natural even, and he wouldn’t be alarmed by it. It was just her body’s way of expelling what she didn’t need, and preparing her to receive his seed. If she didn’t bleed again in twenty eight days, it meant she was carrying his bairn.  

She wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss, and he let her, as he reached blindly onto the bedside table and retrieved the wet rag. It was cold, but it would have to do until he could get her in the bathtub.  

He placed it between her legs, shushing her, and moving his lips to her neck, when she startled.

“Let me take care of ye.” He whispered against her throat as he gently cleansed her skin and the apex of her thighs.  

“You didn’t have to…”

“I know. I want to,” He breathed, as he lifted his head to look down at her. Almost losing himself a over again in her whiskey eyes. “You’re my wife, Claire, t’is my job, and my privilege to care of ye. When ye ready, there’s a bath waitin’ for ye…”

“How?”  

“I told the lasses to draw it for ye while ye were changin’.”

“You dear, sweet man.” She whispered, her eyes glistening with tears as she reached up and cupped his face. “Thank you, so much.”

“Ye welcome.” He smiled, before looking away to clean off her hip and to drag the rag over himself.

“Will you join me?”  

“In the bathtub?”

“Yes.”

“Aye, if you’ll have me.”

After giving strict instructions that she wasn’t to move from his bed. Jamie made his way towards her dressing room, and knocked once on the door to ensure the lasses has left. With no sign of life, he depressed the latch and walked in.  

It was warm, maybe too warm, with the roaring fire and the billows of rose scented steam rising from the water. But it was perfect, Maggie had done exactly as he’d asked.  

He’d not bathed in a tub with anyone since he was a wee lad and had to share the water with Willie. But he’d been intrigued by Claire’s suggestion, and having expected a relatively chaste wedding night, he’d wanted to do what he could to make it special for her.

And he knew well how much she loved the water.

The shutters had been drawn for privacy, making the room cosy with naught but the light from the fire, and the few candles that had been left lit on the walls. As requested, a decanter of wine and two glasses, sat on a small round table next to the tub, and he smiled when he saw them.

Maggie was discreet, but that simple request was bound to have tongues wagging below stairs. His request for daily baths had caused a few raised eyebrows, but now they knew he would be sharing them with his wife, and thescandal would have them entertained for months.

He laughed, not in the slightest bit bothered. He loved his wife, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. His people would know that well soon enough.  

Satisfied that the water wasn’t too hot, and all was as it should be. He flipped the lock on the servants door, and returned to retrieve his bride.  

“Ah, so ye can do as ye told.” He smiled as he made his way over to the bed and scooped her up into his arms. She came willingly, with a soft sigh as she laid her head against his chest.

“On occasion.”  

“When it suits ye, ye mean.” He laughed kissing her forehead.

“Mmm.”

“Ah, Sassenach.” He sighed, as he stood her by the bathtub and pulled her naked body against his. She looked up at him, her eyes warm and her smile soft, and he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her lips. “What ye do to me.”

“I can feel what I do to you.” She murmured, trailing her hand slowly down his chest and stomach until she brought it to rest over his cock. It twitched in her hand, and she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him softly as she awakened his desire.  

“I beg of ye, lass.” He groaned, digging his fingers into the flesh of her arse. “Dinna start what ye canna finish, I’v only so much restraint, an’ I dinna want to hurt ye.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” She winked, as she released his cock and stepped out of his arms.  

“Ye dinna seem to be finishing anythin’.” he complained, trying to grab her hand back as he gestured to his weeping cock. It was nigh on painful, his need for her to keep touching him, but seeming oblivious, she simply smiled and turned to dip a rag into the water. “Claire...”

“I’ve not even started yet, My Lord.” She all but purred, the sudden huskiness to her voice making him shiver with need, as she dropped to her knees before him.

“What are ye doin?”

“Cleaning you up.” She whispered, licking her lips, and drawing the warm wet cloth up the inside of his thigh.

Dear God above.

She was trying to kill him. She kept her dark, hooded eyes locked on him, gazing up at him through her long eyelashes, as she folded the rag over his cock. His hips jerked, and a low groan built it his throat and brushed past his parted lips. It wasn’t the wet heat he wanted to feel, but Jesus Lord it felt good.  

She took her time, cleaning him throughly, and driving him half insane. When she gently eased back the skin, and wiped the cloth around the bulging head, he couldn’t take any more. His bollocks were aching, and if she didn’t stop he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.  

“Enough.” He growled, stilling her hand as his heart pounded erratically somewhere near his throat. “I canna take much more, lass.” Her lips twitched and she dropped the rag before wrapping her wee hand around the shaft. “Claire…”

“Sshh.” She breathed, as she rose higher on her knees, bringing her eye level with his cock. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”  

He was seconds away from forcing her to stop, or begging to lie back and spread her legs. His mind was so clouded in lust that he didn’t know which, but before he could decide, she moved forward and ran her tongue along the length of his cock.  

“Claire…what are ye…”

“Ssh.” She murmured again before wrapping her lips around the weeping head and drawing him into her mouth.  

“Jesus Christ.” He cried as lightening shot through the base of his spine, jerking his hips and making his whole body erupt in goosebumps. “Claire…lass…shit.”

She hummed around him as she worked her hand in time with her mouth. Sucking, pulling and twisting over and over as she massaged his length with her tongue, and danced it around the head. He was blinding by stars, and too overcome with awe and pleasure, to even think about stopping her.  

He’d never felt anything like it in his life, he was in mind numbing bliss, and without though, his hand went to the back of her head and he buried his fingers into her hair. He could feel her sharp nails digging into the flesh of his arse as she pulled him towards her, encouraging him to move.  

With what sanity he had left, he tensed his muscles, locking himself in place, least he thrust forward and hurt her. But she growled, her dark eyes hungry and begging, as she scrapped her teeth along his cock, and he was lost.  

His hips shot forward, pushing his cock further into her mouth, making her moan and her stretched pink lips to tighten around him. He gripped her hair harder and thrust against her, again and again going deeper and deeper with each shallow movement.  

He was in heaven, with white hot flames burning under his skin, tightening his balls and pulling him closer and closer to the inferno. He wanted to close his eyes, to throw his head back and roar with pleasure, but he just could not take them off her.  

She looked sublime, and the utter bliss and triumph in her eyes, was only fueling his need.

She moved her hand and placed it with her other on his arse, helping him move until the tip of his cock was thrusting against the back of her throat. Her muscles contracted, gripping his cock so tightly that he cried out and pushed in further, making her gag.

“Christ…I’m sorry.” He panted, pulling back until his cock slipped out of her mouth.

“No.” She begged, wrapping her hand around it again, and pumping it firmly as she drew him back towards her lips. “You have no idea how…God Jamie…I want you too…please do it.”

“Lord God, lass. Ye slay me.” He groaned pushing back in though her parted lips, all the way to the back of her throat. She gaged again but her eyes begged him not to stop, so he tightened his grip and thrust forward.  

He’d already been so close to to edge, but as she swallowed and moaned, licked and sucked at the thick shaft of his throbbing cock, he lost all control. His balls pulled up, and his movement turned jerky and rapid. He was close, so very close.  

“God, Claire…I canna stop…” He cried thrusting in as deep as he could. All his muscles contracted, and he groaned long and low as he twitched and released his seed down the back of her throat. “Argh Christ!”

She swallowed around him, over and over, taking everything he’d given her, before slowly slipping his cock out of her mouth.  

They were both breathless and panting, with their hearts pumping wildly and their eye locked. He fell down to his knees before her, and pulled her shaking body into his arms.

“I’ve never…Lord I thought my heart would burst.” He panted, as he kissed her head and ran his hands smoothly up and down her back. “Are ye well? I dinna hurt ye?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She promised as she wrapped her own arms around him. “That was the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Aye. I canna argue with ye there.” He laughed, kissing her again and moving back sightly to look down at her. “Now come, lass. Before the water gets cold.”

Chapter 24

[shipmistress9]

You could stay

Another one-shot I wrote, set between ‘Blindsided’ and ‘Shell Shocked’.

This story was a chance for me to get another bit of my personal headcanon down. And I want to explain that one before we get started here, lest I get too many angry comments on how they behave totally out of character… We all know Astrid to be the fearless warrior, never afraid of anything and we also know Hiccup to be more cautious, sometimes even shy and awkward. But I believe that, when it comes to their intimate relationship, their roles are reversed.

Astrid never was good when it came to social interactions, not when they were meaningful and important. She wouldn’t even open up to Heather when it comes to her feelings.

Hiccup, on the other hand, gets far more secure when he knows something is important. He then is able to scramble up every bit of confidence needed.

So, yes, I believe that when it comes to intimacy, Astrid is the shy one, as it is hard for her to open up, while Hiccup takes the lead, as he’s used to acting despite his feelings for her by now.

“…and then, hopefully, we can confront Viggo without any further interruption.” Hiccup said excitedly. “With you and me and Toothless, he’ll have no choice than to hand back the Dragon Eye! That’s it! We did it!” He walked around the table, still staring down at the model with all those tiny figurines and notes and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. “That… that really could work!” He looked up at her, eyes gleaming and Astrid couldn’t help but smile back at him. But, Odin, she was tired!

They’d spend hours in his hut now. This morning, Heather and Dagur had shown up and had asked for some help on Berserk Island. There were boulders to be blown up and a lot of useless wood to be burned down, ruins of former houses that needed to be removed before new ones could be built. Of course, with Windshear and Shattermaster they would have been able to do all this on their own but when it came to blowing stuff up and burning things down, nobody was as efficient as Snotlout and the Twins.

Hiccup had been reluctant to go, though. During the past few days, they’d begun to work on a plan to confront Viggo and he wasn’t exactly keen on the idea to interrupt that, now that they were finally making progress. In addition, Heather, who always saw more than anyone else, had only needed one glance at them, at the way they, Astrid and Hiccup, looked at each other, to know. She then had come up with an idea that suited everyone, even though Hiccup had been reluctant, again, to agree. He still felt like it was his responsibility to watch over the Twins even though they were hardly the troublemakers they once had been and Heather had already proven her capability to rein them in, anyway.

It hadn’t been hard to convince Fishlegs to go with them. Meatlug could be of great use in removing rubble, too, as well as producing Gronkle Iron for later use and Fishlegs’ knowledge of architecture would also be helpful. And then, he was excited to spend a few days with Heather anyway. So the Berserk siblings had stayed for lunch and afterward, all their friends had left Outpost Island. None of them had thought twice about it, except Heather, who’d winked at her once, and why should they? This wasn’t the first time she and Hiccup were all on their own, after all. They’d been on regular scouting patrols together for four years now, this was no different. Except, it was! Because Hiccup had kissed her after she’d regained her sight and now everything was different!

Although, not that different, really… After their friends had left, the two of them had returned to Hiccup’s hut just like on all the other days before and had brooded over their plan to finally get the Dragon Eye back from Viggo and Ryker. After those first awkward days of their relationship, they’d been able to work out some kind of routine by now. It wasn’t like they purposefully wanted to lie about their relationship to their friends. But being together was awkward enough even without the ever prying eyes of Team Snotnuts so they hadn’t said anything yet. Instead, they’d tried to concentrate on their plan, which would have been entirely impossible with one of their friends around, always trying to catch them doing things they weren’t supposed to do.

Astrid watched Hiccup as he now went over their plan once more. Their plan to gather every single available dragon rider, pair them into small groups and attack Viggo’s outpost in one strategical assault. He was enthusiastic about it and with good reason. This was a good plan and Astrid liked it all the more because of the way it had come to pass in the first place. This plan combined both their assets perfectly, her knowledge of fighting and how to best use their different skills to their advantage and Hiccup’s strategic mind to combine it all into one executable plan. They were good together!

She raised her hand to cover her mouth as she yawned. It was long past nightfall, surely past midnight as well and these had been many long hours with this to her rather unfamiliar activity of planning and discussing. She was tired but it was different from the fatigue she was used to. Normally, her body told her it had had enough activity for one day and needed rest but clearly, that wasn’t the case today. No, today it was her mind that was tired, her head felt like it was filled with wool and thinking became harder. She really needed to go to bed!

Astrid stood up and walked over to him, to say good night and maybe steal a kiss and embrace. She liked these little gestures, these proofs that, finally, they weren’t just friends anymore. It had taken a long time to reach this point and even these little things were still so new, so meaningful. They hadn’t kissed often so far, not real kisses at least. These playful pecks of their youth didn’t count! Kissing wasn’t something that came naturally for them and with all the work they had around the Edge and with this plan… Well, every single one had been a highlight so far, the one he’d given her that day at the stables, the one she’d stolen early in the morning a few days later when they’d met in their clubhouse while everyone else was still asleep, that first, deep good night kiss they’d shared a few days ago and the others thereafter, that had been far more cautious than that first one.

“Hiccup?” She addressed him self-consciously. Dammit, why was her usual confidence not working around him anymore? This was Hiccup, the same Hiccup she’d happily punched or embraced without further thought. Why was this so hard all of a sudden? “I think, we’ve been through this enough times now. It’s pretty late so…” She trailed off, hoping he would react, look up at her, maybe even offer to walk her to her hut. Not, that that was necessary, but it was nice. Walking together, even if it was just this small distance, was nice! It was a way of getting rid of all these important thoughts about plans and tactics and, for that short time at least, just thinking about each other, of them, together.

But Hiccup didn’t react, really, just grunted distractedly and reached for one of the small figurines to adjust its position. “Hiccup, I’ll go now. It’s late and I’m tired,” she tried anew. “And I wouldn’t want to fall off the bridges later.” She added half-jokingly. Maybe she would at least get him to laugh if nothing else.

But, again, there was no reasonable reaction and he just nodded. He reached for another figurine. “‘As you wish…” he murmured absentmindedly. “You know you could stay, right?”

Astrid had turned, resigned to leave without a kiss that night, but then stopped dead in her tracks, thunderstruck. What had he said? She whirled back toward him, to stare at him, dumbfounded but he still didn’t react and just leaned heavily on the table, engrossed in his thought. “What?” she asked aloud. Surely he hadn’t meant that like it had sounded, right? Her heart was racing at the mere thought, he could… could have implied… But no! Surely, he hadn’t! Not that she didn't… want to, but… Freya, they’d only kissed a few times so far! She knew Hiccup well enough to know that if she would have to decide now, she would choose to stay with him for the rest of her life but… Hel, that didn’t mean…

She felt herself blushing as she stared at her boyfriend. Even this term was still so strange! How could he say something like that and be completely unperturbed by it? But then, he wasn't… In one moment, he was still looking thoughtfully down on the table and in the next he stiffened, flinched and slowly, very slowly, finally turned toward her.

“You’re not Fishlegs.”

She blinked at him, uncomprehending. Why was he staring at her like she was a ghost, some terrifying monster to haunt him? And of course, she wasn’t Fishlegs! “Do I look like Fishlegs?” She asked angrily, her eyebrows drawn together. If this was supposed to be some joke then it wasn’t a funny one! But Hiccup back paddled, eyes wide and hands raised to ward her off or calm her down, she wasn’t sure which one.

“No! No, of course not! It’s just… I-I’m not used to you… being here, I mean…” He took a shaky breath and gulped. “I mean, normally it’s Fishlegs with whom I’m working through the nights,” he explained more coherently. “And more often than not, he stays. Sleeps on the floor, over there…” He gestured toward the corner where his small workshop was and where the heat of his forge outside provided a comfortable sleeping place. For being on the floor…

Astrid relaxed. So, he hadn’t implied… hadn’t asked her to spend the night with him after all. “I see…” She whispered and averted her eyes. Dammit, why was she disappointed now? “That… makes more sense… I think. More than me… here…” She broke off and bit her lip. Not, that she wanted to actually have… have sex with him… She wasn’t ready for that yet! But staying? Sleeping next to him, warm in his arms? Why was this thought so appealing all of a sudden?

“That… makes more sense… I think. More than me… here…”

“No!” Hiccup agreed hastily. “No, that wouldn't…” Mortified, his gaze wandered through the room. Thor, how could he have been so stupid? Ask Astrid if she wanted to stay? Wanted to spend the night here? In his hut? With him? Not that he wouldn’t want her to, but… Gods, she was Astrid Hofferson, the fact that she was here, now, with him, was incredible on its own. He still could hardly believe that he really was this lucky! And of course, he wanted her to stay, had dreamed of barely anything else for years but, oh Gods, he couldn’t tell her that! He still barely dared to get close to her, even though she seemed to like it. And he wanted… Oh, Thor, he wanted her to stay! Not… not like that! But… But he wanted… “But I want…” Holy Helheim, had he said that out loud? He bit his lip and cautiously glanced at her, whether she’d be angry. Gods, she would have every right to be…

But she wasn't… “You want… what?” She asked quietly. Too quietly maybe? Gods, he was dead.

“Nothing!” He said hastily. “I… nothing… really!”

She dropped her head and nodded slightly. “You… want me to go, then?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes! Ahm… no! I…” Gods, he wished he could see her eyes right now, wished he could guess what she was thinking. He didn’t want her to go… “You… You could stay… if you want.” It was a risk! It was a risk and he knew that. But he really didn’t want her to go! This was too perfect, with their friends gone, no one would ask any questions in the morning. And it was not like he wanted to… to have… Not now, not tonight, not…. Not really! But he wanted to be with her, to hold her, to kiss her more than just once before they parted. Oh, Thor, please, let her stay!

“Okay” came her quiet answer and she looked up at him again. Her expression was cautious, maybe even a little frightened but there was this gleam in her eyes. A gleam that spoke of excitement and anticipation and his heartbeat quickened. She made one hesitant step toward him but then stopped, insecurity clear on her face. He gulped once and then made a decision.

She had chosen him. She had chosen to believe in him, back then when she’d first found him with Toothless in the cove, had chosen to follow his lead when he’d started to train dragons for Berk’s aid and when he’d decided to fly out and look for new land all these months ago. She had chosen to stay at the Edge, had chosen to return after she’d instructed the A-Team. A few days ago, she’d chosen him and now she had chosen to stay. That had to mean something… Up until now, there had been only one living being whom he trusted completely, around whom he had never felt the need to act out anything he wasn’t. One being who wouldn’t judge him and in return also trusted him completely. Toothless had given him the confidence he’d needed to become the person he was now but if he wanted to go on he probably would need more. Another person with whom he could be himself and more confidence as well. And she had chosen him…

He took a deep breath and made two quick steps with his long legs toward her, startling her and pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face into her hair. It was another risk, maybe he was too forward, maybe she would push him away and leave, for now, or for good. If she did, he wasn’t sure how he would go on, could go on, but he needed to take it anyway. They stood at a threshold, with their lives in constant danger, fighting almost every day and with an uncertain future ahead of them. He didn’t know whether their plan to attack Viggo would really work or would end in a suicide mission. And they had already wasted so much time because of his failure, he didn’t want to waste any more, especially not now when they’d finally made up their minds. Theirs was not a relationship that needed time to grow, they already knew each other so well. All they needed was getting used to this new situation. Or so he thought at least… Freya, please, let her think so, too! Either she would choose him again now or he didn’t really care what happened to him…

For an agonizingly long moment, nothing happened though. She was stiff as a statue in his arms, not moving, neither toward nor away from him and not saying one word, not making any noise. Gods, if this should be the last time he would hold her…

And then he felt her hands through his tunic and leather armor, not on his chest, not pushing him away but on his back, holding him close, drawing him in. He gasped into her hair, the relief that washed through him almost painful. She had chosen him, again.

A minute later, she leaned against him more heavily and sighed. “I… really am tired, you know…” she mumbled reluctantly and Hiccup chuckled shakily. He pulled back to look at her and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Let’s go to sleep then,” He took her hand and lead her up to the higher platform where Toothless already lay on his customary stone. Tiredly, he opened one of his big green eyes when he heard them, his gaze wandering from him to Astrid and back again. He blinked once and then closed the eye again, hiding behind his remaining tailfin. With a small grin, Hiccup shook his head at the dragon and turned toward his nightstand. Out of habit, he loosened the bracers on his forearms and pulled them off before he turned to glance at Astrid.

She stood unmoving and pale, shaking slightly and just stared unseeingly through him. Hiccup frowned. What was up with her? She wasn’t usually timid like this, not even when it came to putting off their armor in the presence of one another. They’d done that on multiple occasions during the last couple years after all. Like, to go swimming or at nights around the fireplace when they’d been on longer excursions. This wasn’t any different. Or was it? He stepped toward her, his gaze questioningly. “Astrid?” he asked and she flinched.

“I-I’m fine!” Her voice was shaking and he saw her swallowing. “It’s just…” She glanced up at him for a moment and blushed. “I…” she shrugged awkwardly and crossed her arms in front of her.

Hiccup watched her for a moment as her gaze wandered through the room, never meeting his eyes. She wasn’t comfortable being here… “Do you want to leave?” he asked calmly. If she wanted to go, he wouldn’t hold her back. He wanted her to stay, but not if she wasn’t at ease with it. He wanted her to be happy. Above all else, he just wanted her to be happy.

She bit her lip and then slowly shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “No, I, I don’t want to leave.” Another blush spread over her face and Hiccup finally understood. She felt just as awkward as he’d felt a few minutes ago before he’d decided to not waste any more time. But he wanted this to work! Maybe he was pushing his luck, but he really, really wanted this to work…

“May I help with your armor then?” He tried to keep his voice level and calm, to not let his own nervousness show. He hoped that would help her to calm down as well. Astrid’s eyes widened but she nodded mutely and Hiccup stepped closer to her, close enough to inhale the mayweed scent of her hair. Oh, Thor, this is going to be interesting. He thought dizzily and carefully reached beneath her left pauldron to unclasp the buckle there. He knew how to put off her armor, after all. He’d made it! Carefully, he lifted the leather and metal over her head and placed it on the trunk beside them before he turned back toward her. And gulped, suddenly self-conscious after all. He hadn’t thought this through! Her skirt? There was no way he could put that one off, too! Luckily, he didn’t need to.

When his eye met hers again, he noticed the change in her. She wasn’t as timid as before anymore, her eyes gleaming, filled with a soft emotion he couldn’t name. She stepped even closer toward him, stretched and a moment later, her lips met his. He gasped in surprise, the sound lost against her mouth before his eyes fluttered shut and he kissed her back.

This kiss was way better than the ones they’d shared during the last days, better even than that first deep kiss three days ago, almost as good as their first. He felt her soft body beneath his hands as his arms curled around her waist and he parted his lips as he felt her doing the same. Cautiously, he pushed his tongue out to meet hers, playfully, carefully exploring. He could lose himself in kisses like this one…

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they parted, breathlessly. Seconds? Minutes? Years? He didn’t care… All he cared about was the girl in his arms with her wide smile and brightly gleaming eyes. “Can we do that again?” she asked, panting slightly and he gasped, his lips twitching into a grin before he leaned in to kiss her again.

A part of his mind noticed how they got closer to his bed, how she kicked off her boots and shimmied out of her skirt and how he, too, shrugged off his boot. Somewhere along the way, he’d even managed to get rid of his leather armor and fake leg, though he didn’t remember how really. All he remembered later was how he’d held Astrid Hofferson, the girl of his dreams, in his arms, how they’d kissed and cuddled for he didn’t know how long and how she’d finally fallen asleep, nestled into his arms and blanket, relaxed and with a smile on her rosy lips. He stared down at her, watched her sleep and still could hardly believe how lucky he was. There was only one downside to this, but it was one he was willing to take.

He wouldn’t get any sleep tonight.

[sanhatation]

ri’s thicc 2017 reflection post !

its still quite a few hours away from 2018 for me but i just wanted to take this time to reflect on my absolutely Lovely 2017!!! yay time 2 get sappy as i word vomit and overshare about my year on tumblr.com !!!!

thank you loads to all of my LOVELY followers !!!!!!!!! yall are the cutest, make my day on the daily ! i wish you the best 2018 that the world can offer !!! stay healthy, take time for yourself, love yourself, love others, and be kind! 💓💓

this Riley Rant here, is gonna be here for me than anything. like a Fat journal entry !! and i am an Oversharer so here she goes [jeopardy music]

to begin, i have met and befriended so many amazing people on here this year and WOW!!!!!! lovely and supportive and talented, beautiful aroha friends??? it doesnt get better than that!!!!! i would attempt to tag all of u but yall know who u are ;)) im endlessly grateful to those of you who have really made being on here worth it. heck ya sometimes im like “why do i even spend time on here” but then!!!! idk sunny comes swingin in with just a heart full of love or sara comes swingin in with her eggs or marian comes swingin in with her rare pairs or j comes swingin in with her baking posts and thats not even HALF of it !!!!! seriously.....love you guys tons.

to my friends who i have had the pleasure of remaining your friend this year and getting closer to u !! i love you. i really dont know how yall handle me especially 2015/2016 me?? a MESS! yall are the REALEST. again, yall know who u are ;)) i hope we can continue to talk and have fun in 2018, i wish yall the best. 

and lastly....heres a THICC shoutout to my six shining stars. 

as for me as an individual, 2017 was a freaking Whack year. it was incredible....dare i say, iconic. and now its time for.....RILEY’S 2017 HIGHLIGHTS !!!!!! (also includes: the sucky parts bc even those allowed me to grow !)

- man, did 2017 start out pretty rough when my country decided it was a good idea to elect a freakin cheeto for president. however! i had the lovely opportunity to attend the women’s march at my capital the day before inauguration !! and it was powerful!!!! truly an experience ill treasure forever!

- binch....thank u Winter Dream for my whole life. tbh i wont forget sobbing at my best friend’s house when it dropped. thank u Miss Again Dance Practice. thank u Miss You & Me MV. thank u Miss Cotton Candy Choreography. thank u. 

- ah.....when some pinhead started that tr*mp chanting at a basketball game lol! so iconic that we made the new york times! gotta love that....

- OMG !!! HOW TO SUCCEED !!!! an absolutely amazing experience. granted, the male lead was a Snake, but i had a blast. Rosemary will forever be close to my heart and ill always cry a little when i hear Brotherhood of Man or Paris Original !! such an awesome opportunity. i learned a frick ton about myself as a performer. i improved a ton in acting and dancing, and also came to learn that i am very good at receiving instructions and memorizing lines quickly. i learned that i need to work on some of my facial expressions and i also learned some of my habits ! i miss u Queenie H2$ :’’)

- had my first tap dance performance ever??? i really enjoyed learning tap, and i hope to pick it back up in the future !!!!

- BIIIIIINCCH i had the opportunity to visit my sister in korea!!!!!!! wow.....truly the BEST week of my entire year, maybe even LIFE! i went to the dog cafe, the sheep cafe, mcountdown, the lunar festival kick off, gwanghwamun palace, dongdaemun, shopped a ton around hongdae, ate food by the han river, visited namsan tower (but not without getting lost), hit the noraebang TWICE, walked into a private Fantagio board meeting, ate delicious chicken on a STIIICK, ran in the rain, ordered delivery mcdonalds, had the BEST fried chicken, met a bunch of monks, was led around dongdaemun by a very old korean man, SAW EUNWOO AND DOYEON AND RECEIVED MUCH LOVE AND NEARLY DIED, hit the convenience store literally every day, snuck out, GOT A WAVE FROM KEY :((( , bought Winter Dream and lots of skin care products and lots of cute clothes, had the clearest skin ive ever had in my life, went to a buddhist temple, witnessed a drunk man fall into the splits inbetween the ground and the subway, ran up and down 1000 subway stairs, fell in love with a man named Peanut, drank too much banana and strawberry milk, sobbed my face off at the festival as korean grandmas bowed to me, tried tons of new foods (including the nastiest bowl of cheese ramyun ive ever had in my life), bought lots of socks, rode an airplane for......like 40 hours in total? literally the best week of my Life

- had my junior vocal recital ! it was a cute girl. i felt my acting had really improved since sophomore voice recital !! 

- had prom on my 17th birthday and had a jolly good time !!! my mom made my dress and i felt like a Stunner

- dream pt. 01...she rly is that Bad Bih. best era. miss her loads. none of us ever deserved her. 

- les mis !!!!!! two whole weeks.....another Best Time. i learned so much, made so many lifetime friends, had a blast, sang my heart out.....such a freaking good time. i miss her

- got to spend the ENTIRE summer with momo!!!!!!!!!!! literally the ENTIRE!!!!! and what did we do? hit the park, watched lemonade mouth and fantastic beasts and starstruck and that random unicorn movie, made the Best slime, made that ICONIC weki meki video, laughed a ton, cried a ton, stayed up all night for the sunrise, stayed later for the sunset & thunderstorm, walked home in the pouring rain & lightning (IT IS VERY WET), went to the beach, met many dogs, got me hairs cut, befriended that Cat, and went to a painting class

- cabin week !!!!!!!!!!! whatta lovely time

- my brother’s wedding !!!! honestly? my best outfit of the year... had a bangin time. his wife is truly a cutie and i love her tons!

- there was that Mess in august and i still feel sorry to those who felt hurt because of it. i learned a lot about how things especially on the internet can be easily misunderstood and misinterpreted, so u gotta be EXTRA careful with your words ! 

- through that i also came to accept that u cant get everyone to understand or like u, and tbh that is okay for now. all we can do when we make mistakes is try to understand & learn, apologize, and try to better ourselves. and sometimes even when u do that, u still may not be liked. and thats okay. as long as you are trying your best and recognize mistakes, its all good. 

-skinny dipped at girls time wow what a freaking TIME

- woah dude i dropped out of my arts school lmao!!! the BIGGEST change in my life since 2014.;..wow! i dont even have the words to say how much stress was lifted off of me and i love senior yr !!!!

- momo came to CT!!!!!! 

- seeing svt live !!!!! but tbh the best part was seeing momo, “I LOVE A MAN WHO CAN SEW”, “I!!!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JIHOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, “IM UNDERAGE”, and when Mo BLASTED to that other line

- LAKE COMPOUNCE LMAOOOOO I LOVE JIHOON PT2!!!!

- my mom, sister, and i took an eight week painting class! i finished two paintings and learned a ton!! honestly a good time

- dream pt. 02.....shes that other Bad Bih....absolutely adore her

- i also learned that its okay to cut people off who are toxic. especially if you have already informed them that they make u feel bad, they are not worth trying to please or keep around. take care of yourself. similarly, its okay to block people, and you dont owe them an explanation

- MADI CAME HOME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my other half...missed her so much :(((

- riley’s calligraphy christmas !!!!! was so much fun and i loved people’s reactions and i loved learning arohas favorite astro lyrics !!!

- ah...............one of the hardest weeks of my whole life. the pain still lingers, and i know itll hit me again like a boulder the next time we see only four of my angels standing on stage. for four months, i was worried sick about another member, and i even knew he was hurting, that his mental illness was real. my heart aches and there is a piece of it missing, but it will never be replaced. i know you are much happier now, jjong. i love you. 

- and also because of that, i have been able to think a lot about how i live my life. thoughts like ‘am i watching out for my family and friends enough?’ ‘am i listening enough?’ ‘is this funny comment worth it?’ ‘am i happy?’ im trying to be better. to not take things for granted, to only be kind, to always be there for those i love, for those who love me. and i will try my hardest to not complain about small or petty inconveniences. to try harder to be optimistic. 

- christmas was with my whole family for the first time in five years ;;; she was such a cute girl!

and now on to the next act !!!! its called RILEY’S NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS !!!!!!!!!! 

1. lets start with the basic stuff that im 99% not gonna pull through on: keep ur room clean. keep everywhere u go clean, it makes mom upset. eat better, u know there is other foods in this house besides peanut butter and pepperoni and popcorn. 

2. send out at least one Lovely Ask per day. i made this goal sometime over the summer, and i did it for a few months until i started to forget ;; its not that hard, u just gotta remember to do it !! 

3. sis.....quit Procrastinating.......GET ur FREAKING application done...do ur homework the night before lmao! call who u need to !!! write those thank u cards!!!! go get them scholarships!!!! enter that graphic design contest lmao!!! just DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!! time is wasting

4. just be happy 

[mibasiamille]

where you are

April 17th, 1945

I jumped as the shrill, metallic ring of the doorbell echoed through the foyer, the hairbrush in my hand clattering to the ground as I stood up. The motion had been so abrupt that the legs of the chair squeaked, sending uncomfortable shivers down my spine. Regaining my composure, I wiped my clammy hands on my skirt as I headed down the staircase, curious as to who my surprise visitor could be.

My nerves got the better of me with each step, gnawing at my insides and begging me to believe the worst. This happened frequently: my brain would jump directly to the worst conclusions, causing me to worry when there is nothing to worry about. But, for safe measure, I silently prayed to God that he was alright.

Lord, let him be safe.

After squaring my shoulders and feigning confidence, I unlocked the door and cracked it open, just enough for me to stand beside it.

On the doorstep stood two young men, both dressed in military uniforms. The first--Stafford, his nametag read--looked to be about Jamie’s age or older, with a square jaw and dark brown eyes. The younger boy, Anderson, was assuredly no older than twenty; he was a lanky lad, with his cap lopsided, obviously too big for his head, with the bill pulled far over the front of his face. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes until he looked up at me; they were blue, almost the same cerulean hue as Jamie’s.

Jamie. My heartbeat quickened at the thought of him.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I inquired politely, pushing back the worry that still clouded my mind like a thick fog.

Stafford, after looking from Anderson back to me, removed his cap, asking in a soft voice, “Are you Mrs. Claire Fraser?”

“I am,” I answered, a lump forming in my throat.

“Mrs. Fraser,” He recited in a steady voice, “I have been asked to inform you that your husband, Captain James Fraser, has been reported dead in Berlin, Germany on April 16th, 1945 at 17:46 UTC.”

I blinked once, twice--the steady increase of my heart rate overpowering every other sound in the room. The boy was still talking, explaining to me the operation in which he had perished, but I was hearing none of it. In all honesty, I didn’t want to know--the important fact was clear; it had been ringing in my ears ever since he had spoken the words.

Your husband, James Fraser, Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

Everything felt off-balance, as if Jamie was the weight holding me in a spiritual equilibrium; with the absence of him, my scale tipped, leaving me uneven, broken. Alone.

I leaned into the door in an attempt to keep myself upright, holding on to it as if I was holding on to Jamie himself.

“We brought you his personal effects, ma’am,” Anderson murmured. Taking a small step forward, he placed the small box into my hands. “It might help bring you closure.”

The tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the box, tracing the outline of it as if it was his cheek. Memories flooded into my mind as I pulled off the lid; his voice echoed through the silent air.

He had said to me once: I promise you, Claire, that ye wilna ever be alone; not now, not ever, so long as I am alive.

And what if you’re not alive, you bloody stubborn Scot! I thought in reply, an audible sob escaping my lips.

What will I do without you?

The box held a few things--trinkets, mostly: a few small stones, rubbed smooth around the edges with wear; a pocket Bible, worn and torn and well-loved, with stanzas underlined and notes written in the margins; his father’s ring, the ruby still as shiny and beautiful as it was when I had first seen it; a small, wooden snake, given to him by his older brother in their youth; a Victoria Cross, along with a few other pins, medallions, and awards for his service; a stack of envelopes, full of letters--my letters--tied together with a string; and, finally, a single piece of paper, addressed with a single word: Claire.

With shaking fingers, I placed the lid back on top and pulled the box closer to my chest. My head resting on the top, I allowed myself to be taken away by the roaring sea of emotions and into oblivion.

It was a week later when I finally left our bedroom; the snow had begun to fall in thick clusters to the ground, coating everything with translucent frost. The grass crunched underfoot as I made my way across the yard, filling the emptiness of the air with it.

The past few days had been difficult, to say the least; the majority of my time was spent in bed, inhaling the scent of him as I held his pillow close to my chest, desperate for anything that kept him with me.

Yesterday, Jenny had come to visit. She brought me flowers, along with some food and milk to help me get through the next week. I was still in bed when she came up the staircase to check on me.

There was no preamble; every word she said cut through the stagnant air like a blunt knife.

“You’re mourning, Claire; I understand it, but ye have to understand that he was my family, too.” She was standing in the doorway of the room to start, but with each new word she took a step closer. By the time she reached the foot of my bed, her lips began to tremble. Her breath caught as she continued, “He was my youngest brother--the last of us left, besides me. Everyone else from the Fraser family is dead, Claire. I have no one left…”

She paused, looking down at me with her eyes, as slanted and blue as my husband’s had been. The bed sunk as she sat beside me, her hand searching for mine. Having found it, she squeezed it hard in a vice-like grip. “Except you. You are all I have left of him, Claire. And I’ll be damned if I lose you, too.”

After exchanging hugs and softly spoken words of love and encouragement, she convinced me to come with her to Lallybroch for a few days.

And so here I was, on the grounds of his childhood home as snow fell in steady flurries towards the ground. The air still smelled so much like him: the thick musk of man, melded with sweet grass. The thistle bushes; the large, rolling hills of heather; the barns, the horses and the hay. I could feel him near me, his hands a leaden weight on my shoulders. My name, lightly passing my ear as the wind blew. Claire.

I made it to my intended destination not long after I left grounds of the estate. After the events of today, I wanted nothing more than to be left alone with my thoughts and my husband.

The gusts of wind became stronger as I climbed the hill, out of breath when I reached the crest. Jamie had told me once that all of the Fraser ancestors had been buried here since the late 18th century. His father, Brian, was buried here, on the left side of his wife, Ellen, and two brothers, Robert and Willie. To Willie’s right was Jamie.

Since there were no remains to be sent, all that we could bury was his box of possessions; the last things that he had owned before his death. We had opted to keep everything in the box except for his father’s ring, the stack of my letters and the small piece of paper addressed to me. I still hadn’t opened the letter yet--couldn’t, out of the fear of what was written inside.

“Ye could go a lifetime wi’out readin’ it, Claire,” Jenny had told me this morning. “But do you really want to spend all yer days wonderin’ what he had said?”

The paper was in my coat pocket, slightly crumbled under my hand. I pulled it out gingerly and held it between thumb and forefinger, staring at my name, written in his fine script on the front.

Tears formed in my eyes and my hands began to shake as I carefully unfolded the page.

Mo Nighean--

Despite whatever happens on this day, know that no matter where I am, I love you. Know that my heart is wherever you are, as well as my soul; that we are one flesh, one body, one soul, and I will be with you, always.

If I must wait in purgatory to be with you once more, than that is the punishment I deserve for all the crimes I have committed throughout my lifetime. But know that I have no regrets, nor fear for what lies ahead of me. I lived a fulfilling life, for the Lord has given me a rare woman, and I loved her well.

My tears had covered the page in small blots, causing the ink to run. I ran my sleeve over my cheeks in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay, but I couldn’t stop them as I read the final lines of the letter, written in a messier hand than the paragraphs before it.

I will find you, Claire. I promise.

My nose began to run as the streams down my cheeks became rivers, supplying a constant flow of water towards my chin. I wiped the end of my nose and then my neck with my sleeve as I folded up the paper, not needing to read the words again, for I had already ingrained them into my brain.

I will find you. I promise.

Come find me, Jamie.

Gaining my composure, I couldn’t help but glance downwards to the stone. Unable to stop myself, I reached out to it and traced his name delicately with my finger, almost as if that was the only way to tell myself that it was real; that he was truly gone.

I stood, unable to take it any longer, and turned away from the marble slab, making my way back down the hill towards Lallybroch. Overhead, a crow cawed loudly, annoyed by my immediate disturbance of the peace.

The snow was falling intensely now, blanketing the surrounding areas in a thick blanket of white. I felt like I was walking through some kind of purgatory: bright, white, and void of life. The crow cawed louder this time, the sound reverberating off the trees like an echo in a cave.

In the distance, about a hundred yards ahead, I saw a figure approaching through the light blizzard. The wind whistled and swirled around me, throwing my hair about my face and blocking my view. I brushed it aside as I squinted my eyes in a vain attempt to get a better view of the visitor.

My heart lurched, seeming to know who it was before my brain had; its beats steadily increased with each new step I took. At first I had assumed it was Ian, coming to fetch me for dinner; but as the figure approached, I realized that he didn’t have the distinguished hobble that Ian’s strides possessed.

The wind blew past my ears, carrying a distorted whisper to my ears.

Claire.

My soul called back in kind, Jamie.

Claire!

The figure’s pace quickened, limping through the snow in order to get closer to me. I paused, staring into the snow-covered haze.

A ghost? My mind pondered as I stopped in my tracks. The wind howled, whipping ice and frost across my already frozen face.

“Jamie?” I tested his name on my lips, voice shaking and heart thundering in my chest.

“Claire!” The voice responded, filled with anguish.

I shook my head, tearing my eyes away from the steadily approaching figure. You fool, he’s dead.

“Claire!”

He was getting closer, and my body tensed on the spot, refusing to move. I couldn’t take a step forward or backward, no matter how hard I tried.

“He’s dead, Beauchamp,” I whispered to myself as he came into view, emerging from the snowy brume. Squeezing my eyes shut, I reiterated, “Jamie’s dead.”

“Claire.” His voice was thick, as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks. “Claire, please, look at me.”

“You’re not here.”

I heard the snow crunch as he shuffled his feet, taking a step closer to me. “I’m here, I--I found ye.”

A hand touched my cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. My eyes snapped open.

“I’m here,” He murmured as his hand rose to the other side of my face. “Mo ghraidh.”

I jumped backwards, a foot or so of space separating us. A look of hurt crossed over his face, but was immediately replaced by confusion.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered to myself, wiping my eyes with the back of my gloves, since my sleeves were already soaked with tears. Looking back to his form, he stood still before me, not interacting at all to the cold winds surrounding us. “You are not here. You are dead.”

He released a breath, long and slow; it made mist form at the side of his mouth, like smoke from a dragon. “Claire, can’t you see me? Can’t you feel me?” Filling the space between us once more, he grabbed the sides of my face with his hands. “I am not dead.”

“I…” I closed my eyes, shaking my head as if it would rid me of him. When I opened them again, he was still before me, hands on my cheeks and his breath blowing softly on my face. He was so close I could see the flecks of green and hazel surrounding the irises of his eyes. “I don’t understand… they told me you had--”

“I almost did,” he admitted, running his hands further around my head to the base of my skull and grabbing the hair there. “I was very close to death, yes. But I was saved, and I’ve come back to you, Claire.”

My mind was running at a thousand miles an hour, trying to ingest his words. I almost did.

He wasn’t dead. He was alive.

“You’re here,” was all that I could say, bringing my hands up from my sides and taking position on his face. His eyes closed partially as I did this, but refused to leave me as I ran my hands down his neck to his shoulders, his arms, his hands. I grasped them hard against my neck, as if I was afraid of him letting go; releasing my hair, he wrapped them around my own before bringing them to his chest. He stepped closer and as did I, filling in the remaining space between us. Our foreheads pressed together, all it took was for him to look me in the eyes before I kissed him.

It was slow, like pouring honey out of a jar. His lips were warm despite the cold, and I could feel myself melting to him like snowflakes on a windowpane, evaporating into mist. My arms wrapped around him and his around me, pulling each other as close as we could possibly get.

A moment later, when he pulled away for a breath, I murmured, “You better not leave me ever again, James Fraser, unless you take me with you.”

He smiled against my lips, pecking them once, twice, before replying, “I will only ever be where you are, mo nighean donn. Always.”

thanks to @cagedbirdsong and @internallydeceased for the prompt! x

[amandahoyle]

My boys first night actually together and being soft and cute.

I am the most proud of this because I didn’t give them enough personal time together in the first one so I made up for it in this one.

"Maybe you were just late to notice. I would not mind a beautiful woman keeping you distracted, after all Arwyn is my second." The look he got could have killed anything standing and laughter slipped past his lips.

"You know that I don't have feelings for her. That's just rude." Fingers found his own and intertwined with them. Cold but perfect against his own.

"I know. I was teasing." Something he had never really done. Not often.

"So I can see. You are terrible at it, you should practice more. How long have you been here then, skulking around in the shadows?" Fingers played softly against his own and he huffed softly under his breath. He had not been skulking. No he had simply been observing and seeing how Croi had gotten along here. That was all.

"I was not skulking. I was just, curious how you had been and I see that you are fitting in here perfectly. Your father would be proud. I am proud of you, mo chroi. I am also very happy to see you but I did not want myself to be a distraction for you. You were busy." It was true, he didn't want to take away from Croi's night with his people and Croi's responsibilities. He knew what it was like to have people to look after, he may not be a king but Lord of the Hunt wasn't all that far off as some like Madoc believed. He had told Croi last time that their responsibilities and people would come first, and not just his own. The moments they could have together would be be rare and few between on both of their parts. Meaningful but sparse. Gwyn did assume it would be mostly himself, though he knew that Croi would not be without his own concerns and responsibilities.

"I haven't really done anything to be proud of...not yet. I do have something I wanted to talk with you about but not right now. I've missed you and I just want to spend some time with you before you have to go. Come on." Croi got to his feet, tugging Gwyn up with him. He wanted to ask what the other meant but that would ruin the time they did have together. He knew he would tell him eventually, and it was hard to turn off that part of him that was all business. Especially when things outside of that made him nervous and he was nervous as he followed Croi. Alone time they had only had once, and even then it had been different than this. Gwyn had so much on his mind then, so much to tell him. Business and he was good with that. He was good with being serious, but with having fun and just relaxing and enjoying the moment. He was not good at that. More so when it went more romantic and for pleasure. He hadn't done that in a very long time.

Croi led him the one house like structure, and Gwyn felt the magic as they went inside. Croi's magic and he was impressed. Last he had seen the other's touch of magic, it had been more ice and snow and less controlled. Controlled enough to not do it randomly but this was a lot different and he was proud of him even more. He let the other's hand go, a soft smile on his lips as he looked around. Oh yes the place very much screamed the other. Full of nature and yet a mess at the same time.

"It looks like a tornado has been through here, you've become quite messy on your own." The look he got was worth his attempt at teasing and he moved over stopping the other from picking anything up. It was all on the floor and most of it clothes and books, he didn't mind that. It actually felt homey with everything like this. Lived in. The Hunt always moved and kept very little personal items and Gwyn himself had not been in a place that felt truly like a home since he was young, he missed it. Gwyn was curious about all the books, but he let it go. Croi deserved better than him bombarding him with questions. He could do the one thing he was good at and be silent and enjoy the other's attention. He wrapped his arms around Croi's waist, letting go of his wrist once he was sure that he wasn't going to try and clean again.

"Leave it. Its not in the way. I don't want to miss out on any time. Come lay down with me?" He nodded towards the bed before slowly letting him go. His hands lingering on the other as much as he could. His heart was in his throat and he knew that it showed. Even if his voice was calm and didn't waver, his eyes were different. The wide grin on Croi's lips made that clear and he was prepared to be teased about being nervous but those weren't the words that escaped the other's lips. Not at all, in fact, he was strangely quiet as he took Gwyn's hand and led him to lay down. Gwyn got comfortable on the bed, as best as he could. He wasn't used to something soft and he was still in full dress, blade and all. It didn't take long for the other to notice and tug him back to his feet.

"You are cute, you know that? Absolutely adorable. Relax, you can drop your stuff wherever you want, or you can put it on table with my weapons. It's all safe here, I'm the only one that comes in here, outside of Faill and the worst she does is bring in dead animals." There was a playful cringe and Croi gave him a small push to the shoulder. He moved over to table Croi had motioned at, and undid the belt that held his weapons. He didn't have all of them, most of them were on his mount who he had sent off once Croi's people had gotten curious. She wasn't overly fond of them and he knew that she would come when he called, she would have just been bored waiting around for him. He did however have two blades on him, a regular steel one, and the other one of magic. Specifically Wild Hunt magic. It was safer on his person and as Croi had held it before, he did not worry about leaving it bare and in the open here. His cloak came off next and he laid it down beside his blades and the chill of the air hit him. There was a breeze, a bit cold, but he hadn't noticed with the warm material over his shoulders. He ignored it for now, after all the furs on the bed looked plenty warm enough and something else had caught his attention anyways.

Croi had blades made of steel just as Gwyn did though his were new and undamaged from lack of use. He knew the other didn't like the longer blades. That wasn't what caught his eye, what did was the small dagger. The very familiar silver blade that had once been a gift from the previous Leader of the Hunt and he had in turn gifted to Croi. It was very well taken care of, and it didn't looked like it had been used very often. Even during his time in the Hunt, he had only had to use it once or twice. Now he had even less reason to use it. Gwyn ran his fingers along the gems on the hilt before turning back to the other. He spoke before he got distracted by the sight in front of him.

"You kept it, the dagger." Croi had his back to him, and had tugged the jacket and his shirt off. Both were laying over the edge of the bed and Croi had already managed to get his boots off as well. Once he had tossed those aside he made his way back over to Gwyn, a smile on his lips. Like Gwyn had said something funny and if he had, he had not idea what. Of course, Croi was very distracting shirtless. He had only seen him that way briefly when they shared a sleeping space and of course when he had patched him up when they first met. This was different, he had never lingered on him. Never had the chance to see the scars that covered his back and shoulders. The one across his chest that was deeper than the others. Gwyn liked scars, because he liked seeing proof that others could hold their own, so it didn't bother him but it was distracting. Overall because he was shirtless and walking towards him looking more amused than he had all night.

"Of course I kept it. You gave it to me, why wouldn't I? It means a lot to me and its a little piece of you for when you aren't here." It was sweet and not the answer he had been expecting. He could feel his face heat up and he turned his gaze down to the side as Croi came to stand right in front of him. The other, however didn't let him, not by much. He felt the fingers tugging on his chin and pulling his gaze back to him.

"You are more kind than I deserve." Gwyn would always think that, always. Not that he thought he deserved less, but what had he done to deserve Croi he did not understand. He had not really been his friend before, he had been the leader he was used to being and in that he had taken care of him. Gwyn had fallen quite fast, and it was not a surprise, anyone would be lucky to have Croi. He was wonderful and sweet, and caring, and snarky. Gwyn didn't understand how Croi had fallen for him, he had kept a wall up between them. Even when they got together he was still distant. Now as well, though he was trying not to be. Gwyn was still surprised with the time apart that Croi had picked up where they left off, like they had spent no time apart. He didn't know how to return that, he didn't know what the other needed from him.

"You aren't good at taking compliments. I thought I was bad at it, but you are worse. Its cute. Gwyn, I want to be with you. You deserve to be happy. Leader of the Hunt aside. That isn't all you are and I'd like to see more of you. Know more about you. I know that we won't get to see each other a lot, but we have tonight and we have once a month until winter returns. I don't think that's so bad, its plenty of time if you are open to sharing your life with me." Of course he wanted that, he had just never talked about himself before. He didn't know how to start, and most of all he wanted Croi happy. He never wanted to bore him, or not give him enough of the attention and love he wanted.

"I am, of course. I wouldn't be here, if I didn't want this with you. I just don't know...how. I haven't done this with anyone before you. Not like this, not where I was wanted and I wanted back."

"I haven't either. I mean one night stands occasionally. But no one has ever wanted me. This is new for both of us. I just happen to be better at faking that I know everything." Soft laughter escaped his lips and the fingers moved from Gwyn's jaw and down till their fingers intertwined.

"Let's figure out together. Like you said, let's go lay down. You are still wearing a bit too much." He didn't complain when fingers undid the coarse strings holding his shirt tight on his body. Not at all, when his shirt was tugged over his head and tossed near everything else. The fingers back in his own guided him to the bed and this time when he laid down he was very comfortable and the nerves had receded enough that he could enjoy himself. I almost forgot about the taglist I’m bad. @cawolters

[juniper-rose-blower]

FEEL. -How does your character react to a persons touch? A random stranger’s? A loved one’s? A friend’s?

Alright, so we’re going to delve right into this one (and the other questions, which I hope someone sends me!). I’ll give OOC answers, mostly for the sake of giving full answers.

Juniper, believe it or not, is incredibly introverted. She has a small streak of talkativeness when it comes to her botany, but other than that, talking is a bit uncomfortable. For those who are extroverted (which I the mun am), introverts function a bit differently than we do. Where we might love to spend time out in the crowds having a great time, that can actually be far more taxing and exhausting for an introvert. Instead, they find solitude and peace to be far more rejuvenating (something we might find boring in larger doses).

June is very much the same. Spending time talking to, let alone touching, other people, is not something to which she’s accustomed. There are exceptions to this rule, of course, but the prevailing reaction to touch, especially from random strangers, is discomfort.

Now, if we delve into the oddball relationships she keeps with her colleagues in Blackbay, it’s a bit different, as she views each person with a specific set of rose-colored glasses.

For @heyzailene‘s warlock, Lady DuCass - aka ‘Magpie’: June equates a lot of her own mother to Magpie. The woman is older, and quite ‘proper’ in the same senses her mother was, and fusses over little things in ways that dredge up unwanted memories of the woman. But Magpie has also been far kinder than her mother ever was. In truth, Magpie’s existence has begun to soften June’s remembrance of her mother, albeit very slowly. So when there’s a touch from the elderly woman to Juniper, she’s normally adjusting something or rearranging something in a light and gentle manner. June mostly tunes it out, letting the woman do what she feels necessary without feeling overly bothered by it.

For @monettemason - aka ‘Swan’: Mo is the guild Den Mother. I’m certain I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating because it is very much the truth. She watches out for and cares for the group as her own children. Funnily enough, June does not think of Mo as a mother per se, as memories of her mother are not overly pleasant. Instead, she views Mo the same way she viewed the Apothecary in Gilneas who began teaching June about herbalism and botany and alchemy prior to the Fall of the Wall. The man was kind, and gave June an ear when she had a burning question, much as Mo has done time and time again for the Botanist in her emotional turmoils. When Mo has touched June, it’s been in reassurance, and June has found a quiet comfort in the motions, typically grateful for the times when they occur.

For @quai-mason - aka ‘Wren’: Juniper and Quai bonded early into her introduction to the covert group, sharing both moments of peace and moments of turmoil together. Something that really stuck with June early on was having to set Quai’s broken leg in the little cottage in the hills of Northern Elwynn. But she didn’t have to think twice about how she needed to do it, for Quai’s sake. She’d already been made aware of the situation, and she pressed forward with the best way to aid the woman in easing her pain and speeding along her healing. Since that time, June has interacted more than once with the Shadow within the other woman, finding a strange similarity and familiarity in the vibes it gives off. It reminds her of her own feelings, and does not cause her discomfort as it may others. Of all the members of Blackbay, June has probably had the most physical contact with Quai (mostly because she keeps getting hurt *ahem*). Not only does this contact not bother her, June would actively seek more time with her if she did not think it would make the other woman feel awkward. She views Quai as an older sister, and highly values her opinion.

For @brian-wellson - aka ‘Kestrel’: This relationship is probably the most complicated of June’s. Kestrel represents, in the young woman’s mind, a chance at having something she never had - a father. Hers was never in the picture - to whit, she doesn’t even know who he was, or that he was a nobleman, or what his accomplishments were... *cough* spoilers *cough*... Kestrel has been hard and sharp in a number of moments, confusing and misunderstood in others, and a few times has been utterly surprising. He’s an enigma that she cannot uncloud, a puzzle she cannot seem to solve. He offers her help in one moment, but when she reciprocates, he seems to turn her away. Some of these moments have been caused by her naive perception and not by Kestrel. I’ll admit, her interactions with Kestrel are some of the most fun, not only because riling up my muse is entertaining (yes, I can be an evil mun), but because the growth June undergoes through each one is so exciting. The few times Kestrel has made physical contact with June, it’s been a hand on her shoulder, strong and reassuring. It makes her wonder sometimes whether he’s similar to her in level of comfort around others, but the interaction does not bother her.

For @malorincan - aka ‘Albatross’: June has a funny awkward friendship with Mal. The first time they met, she had to tote him back to their Val’sharah cottage on her back (in her travel form, as she is a druid). The two have bonded a great deal, which of course includes having little disagreements and spats over little things that didn’t last very long. There have been times, mostly out of curiosity, that June has been a bit unfair to Mal, grabbing his tail and holding onto it for short periods. It’s easier than trying to hold his large hand, and she finds it a little funny that it makes him blush. But she likes that he’s grown accustomed enough to it that his tail curls around her hand now. They’re good friends, with a bit of a crush on Mal’s end right now, and he actually made her genuinely smile the other evening when he was concussed out of his mind. She cares for his well-being, and does not at all mind their physical interactions.

For @justinegrotius - aka ‘Osprey’: Ho boy. This is probably the most difficult one to put into words. June has had an overwhelming sense of confused emotions regarding Justine. The woman has played an integral part in how June has adapted since joining Blackbay. She’s been instructive and sharp, as a teacher would. She’s been reprimanding at time, as a mother might. She’s been supportive and reassuring, like a sister or a friend. But something Osprey likely did not count on was also something that June never counted on. Justine reminds June of Liam. The one person who ever gave the young botanist butterflies in her stomach. As a young woman who spent her time from the age of 15 to the age of 19 *alone* and generally avoiding people in large quantities, having this recurrence of emotion and feeling crop up this way has been massively befuddling. Right now, June doesn’t know what to do about it, or what to say, or whether to do anything about it at all. But lately, she’s felt overwhelming embarrassment over the things that flit through her mind. There was a singular specific moment that really stands out to her in which the two shared physical contact. June was in a threadbare cot in a rundown shack in Westfall, healing from a nasty wound. Justine sat by her bed, and absently ran her fingers through June’s hair in a soft caress. The tiny little touch still echoes in June’s dreams, weeks later. It resonates with her. It makes her heart flutter. And it terrifies her. It fills her with dread at the impending rejection she’d face if she ever voiced her feelings. And it’s wonderful! Each interaction with the woman is something June both looks forward to and wishes to avoid at the same time, and each one helps her grow into the woman she’s becoming.

To @jazimina, thank you for the ask. ^_^ I’m sorry it was so long. But it felt great to delve into June’s character. Y’all send me more of those questions! And to my Blackbay peeps, too! They’re all great, and I love them.