#how many times you think he cursed himself when he saw the gemstone in her limp hand?

[tackykachowch]

Amongst all the problems and criticisms of prison hallucination Silco I never saw people mention that the version of Silco she hallucinated is already...strange. Jinx hallucinated Silco wearing his coat, but the thing is....the single time he wears a coat in her presence is when she's on the brink of dying and unconscious. He uses his coat to look more intimidating, to show his authority outside of his territory (his office). But Silco wanted Jinx to be as comfortable with him as possible, so why would she hallucinate him in his coat? Like, the most common interpretation of why Jinx hallucinates Silco specifically is that he was always the one person who comforted her and supported her, understood her and put her happiness first above all else. But in his coat he looks more like a negative authority figure, a person estranged from her and who can't possibly understand what she really needs, and commanding her to do things she doesn't want to do. So I'm even more confused about this scene now ngl....

[snapovans]

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived

A stinging pain woke Severus in the middle of the night. He almost moaned as he brought his left hand against his chest in self-preservation, and straightened up in his chair – he had once again fallen asleep at his desk while proofing his students’ works. The pain kept throbbing, like ice freezing his blood, ice burning him from inside. Severus didn’t think and pulled of the ring he wore on his middle finger. The onyx gem, that had been unusually shining, dimmed as soon as he dropped it. It knocked against the wood of his desktop, loud in the otherwise silent room. The pain faded away and Severus closed his eyes, swallowing back tears. He took several deep breaths. When he was able to move his hand without feeling like it was covered in splinters, he leaned down towards the ring to examine the gemstone. It was… turned off, for a lack of a better word. A new wave of ice washed over him. Fear. No, no, no. It was only a malfunction of the charm, a mistake… Though, when was the last time Lily had cast a defective charm? No. Severus pulled back his left sleeve, his right hand shaking as he did so. A gasp. The Mark had faded. Just like the gemstone. Did it mean…? No. No!

Severus took the ring, his fist tight around it, letting the unnatural icing bite of the stone mark him as he stood up from his chair, as he ran out of his office.

~

The door opened before Severus even stepped off the stairs. Dumbledore was talking to one of the paintings on the wall, and as Severus entered, the painted woman disappeared.

“You already know,” Severus stated as Dumbledore turned around to face him. His eyes weren’t twinkling with their usual malice, and it was all the confirmation Severus nodded. He sat on the nearest chair and took a moment to breathe deeply. The ring was still burning in his hand, an icy sting he could focus on to not slip away.

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Dumbledore said with an understanding look. Severus scoffed. Dumbledore had promised him James and Lily would be well-protected, and yet the biting coldness in his hand was proving otherwise.

“What about Harry? Did he survive?”

It was foolish, but it was the only thing he could desperately hope for. No one had ever survived the Dark Lord, but maybe… He would never forgive himself if Harry had died too.

Before the headmaster could answer, the door opened and Hagrid entered the room. He looked harried. He was panting, his face redder than a tomato. The half-giant had probably run all the way from his hut.

“Professor?”

“Ah, Rubeus. Just on time.”

“What is it?”

The half-giant briefly glanced at Severus before looking back at the headmaster.

“I’m sadden to say what we had been fearing has happened.”

Dumbledore barely finished speaking, and Hagrid was already crying. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket inside his enormous coat and blew his nose as if it was a horn. Several paintings cast him dark looks. Severus clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together. He would surely have a headache come breakfast, but it was the least of his worries. He needed answers. Now.

Dumbledore stepped closer to Hagrid and with a hand under the half-giant’s elbow, brought him to the fireplace.

“Bathilda is waiting for you. Harry survived, you will bring him back here.”

Severus barely managed to suppress a gasp. Something loosened in his chest, making him forget for a moment the icy bite in his hand.

“He will be safer at Hogwarts while I make some arrangements.”

Severus didn’t dare to speak in front of a third party, especially one such has Hagrid, but he had questions. Dumbledore didn’t glance at him until Hagrid took a handful of floo powder and disappeared, bend in half, in a blaze of green. Severus couldn’t help a wince at the sight. Had the Dark Lord tortured Lily and James? Or had he used the Killing Curse right away?

Dumbledore turned around, his whole demeanor suddenly changed. Shoulders low, eyes saddened, corners of his mouth down. He didn’t look like the mightiest wizard of his age, vanquisher of a Dark Lord, the one sorcerer another Dark Lord had been the most afraid of. He looked like an old man with a burden far too great for his own shoulders, a man who had witnessed one too many tragedies.

The headmaster sat in the chair next to Severus and raised a hand, as to confront him, but refrained at the last moment. Severus was grateful – he couldn’t bear someone’s else touch right now.

“So, Harry is alive?” he croaked, looking at Dumbledore.

“Yes. I don’t know how it can be, not yet, but it seems to be a miracle. The whole house has burned down, Voldemort has disappeared, and Harry remains.”

Severus nodded. There was so much to talk about, to wonder, but…

“You don’t think the Dark Lord is dead?” he asked, noticing Dumbledore’s word choice. It wasn’t in his habits to use euphemism. If the Dark Lord had been dead, he wouldn't have stated otherwise. Yet, Severus hardly believed it. If the Dark Lord wasn’t dead, then James and Lily… it was all for nothing?

“I think it would be foolish to believe he wouldn’t have prepared for this eventuality. Whatever happened, it probably wasn’t the last time we hear about him.”

Dread crawled inside Severus. He didn’t doubt the headmaster for one second, which meant the war wasn’t finished. For how long?

“Why did you send Hagrid to get Harry? I could have gone, he is my-”

He was stopped by Dumbledore putting a hand over his. He froze, and the look the old man gave him made him fear what was coming next.

“I trust Rubeus with my own life. No harm will come to Harry. As for your role… With Voldemort’s fate unknown and his followers at large, you are still my best asset in this war..”

Comprehension dawned on Severus and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t…

“You want me to keep spying.”

His voice was glacial, but it didn’t seem to affect Dumbledore. If he was to keep his cover, it meant…

“What about Harry?”

There was no way Severus could have the baby if he kept his role as a double-agent. Yet the thought of leaving him again…

“He will need the strongest protection there is until we know more of Voldemort’s situation.” Dumbledore wasn’t looking at him. Severus tensed, he had never seen him like this.

“He will need blood magic to protect him.”

It felt like a slap in his face, like a punch to the gut.

“I’m his father,” he protested weakly.

Dumbledore finally raised his face toward him. He looked sorry, like he knew what he was asking of Severus, but how could he? The man never had a child! He couldn’t understand!

“I know. But you are not related by blood. This kind of magic won’t recognize you as a valid guardian.”

Severus shook his head and stood up. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It wasn’t supposed to end like this! He accepted to play the part, so they could have a better future. He sacrificed so much, and for what? Lily and James were dead, and Harry was to be kept away from him! Perhaps he could still visit, but it wouldn’t be the same.

“You said we wouldn’t have to hide forever!” he accused with a sneer. He knew logically that Dumbledore wasn’t at fault, that he could have never predicted what would happen, but Severus was angry. No, he was enraged and he needed someone to blame.

“We trusted you! You said it would only be temporary! They are dead! And now you want me to stay away from Harry while someone else raise him? I-”

Severus stopped suddenly. James’ parents had died before they had left Hogwarts, and he had no siblings. As for Lily, her parents had died the year before. The closest relative would be…

“You can’t seriously be thinking of giving Harry to her.”

His contempt ran loud in the office as he said the last word.

“It is the safest place for Harry.”

Severus scoffed. He wouldn’t even trust a plant in Petunia’s care, even less in her sad excuse of a husband’s.

“If you truly care about him, you will accept it.”

And that was the heart of the problem, wasn’t it? He cared for his family more than for himself. He wanted to have Harry close to him, to watch him grow, but that would put him in danger. Whereas with Petunia, no wizard would be able to harm him. In the muggle world, he would grow away from the aftermath of the war, away from the tragedies surrounding their family. Severus wanted to protest. James would have fought to find a better solution, but Severus knew Dumbledore was right. Blood magic was ancient, powerful. He sighed in defeat as he closed his eyes and nodded.

He heard Dumbledore get up and step closer to him.

“I am sorry for what I am asking of you. But you know the prophecy as well as I do. It is for the greater good.”

Severus nodded, keeping all emotions from showing on his face. There was no point in arguing with Dumbledore, but for now he couldn’t care less about the greater good.

~

Severus couldn’t go back to sleep. He paced along the corridors, and after a couple of encounters, avoided the others teachers. It was even worse in the morning when the students woke up and learned the news. No one could blame them, really, if they were using magic outside of classrooms to make fireworks and send messages of rejoicing. The ghosts were gossiping – as usual – and before breakfast was over, multiple version of the Dark Lord’s demise were running around, all different, all more extravagant and implausible than the previous one. Though they all had one thing in common: the death of James and Lily Potter, and the unexpected survival of their son, Harry. Severus glared at the students every time he heard of it, and when Filius asked him to smile and rejoice at the good news, he simply answered dryly: “Sorry not to feel merry at the thought of others’ suffering.”

He knew people still doubted his allegiance to Dumbledore – that had been the whole point after all – and his attitude wouldn’t approve the opinion of those who still saw him as a Death Eater. As for those who had known him as a student, they would never believe he could be grieving James Potter and his wife. That would surely please Dumbledore.

Severus found himself walking the grounds around the castle. He reminded the students of the school’s rules, but not even his scowl could damper the happiness of the day. There was smoke floating out of Hagrid’s hut, and Severus stopped for a moment. If the half-giant was back, Harry should be with him. He wanted to see his son, to hold him and make sure he was alive and well, but how could he face his own son when he had failed him so spectacularly?

He closed his eyes, not wanting anyone to see the tears swelling there. The laughters and cries of joy and relief were everywhere, the icy burn of the ring on his finger a ray of cold piercing through the festive atmosphere. He opened his eyes, watched students going to the lake, teachers smiling at them. Hagrid’s hut waited in the opposite direction.

He was almost there when he saw a motorcycle parked next to giants pumpkins. Black’s motorcycle. Severus froze. No, Black couldn’t be here. He had been James and Lily’s Secret Keeper. For the Dark Lord to have found them, he would have tortured and killed Black. But if he was alive, it meant he had been working with the Dark Lord, and for all his animosity toward the man, Severus couldn’t picture him betraying James and Lily like that.

He knocked once, twice and barely waited for an answer. It was hot inside the hut, a hard contrast to the chilly autumnal air outside. Hagrid sat in front of the fireplace, his back to Severus, and didn’t seem to have heard him enter. There was no one else there, not Black, not Harry. Severus frowned, coughed. The half-giant startled and turned around. His eyes went wide in surprise.

“Professor Snape, I… I wasn’t expecting you!”

His face was red, from the heat or embarrassment, Severus couldn’t tell.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you, but-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. In the half-giant arm laid Harry, sleeping. He looked so small, dwarfed by the sleeve of Hagrid’s coat. At the sound of his voice, though, the baby stirred and familiar green eyes searched for him as his little hands raised in the air.

“Dada! Dada!”

His voice made Severus’ heart shatter in thousand pieces and filled him with warmth at the same time.

Hagrid was fussing over the baby. “No, I had just managed to make him go to sleep. He had been crying non-stop since I picked him up.”

Harry wasn’t crying now, no. He was frowning at Severus and his voice was getting louder and more commanding.

“Dada!”

Hagrid started to ask him what was wrong, and Severus finally took the final steps across the room.

“Here, I’ll take him.”

Severus didn’t even care about how it must look to the grounds-keeper. If it had only been him, he wouldn’t have trusted the half-giant, but Dumbledore trusted him to take care of Harry, and if anything, Severus trusted Dumbledore.

Hagrid didn’t react straight away, but Harry was trying to climb out of his arms, desperate to be embraced by someone familiar. Severus could see tears coming up and his cheeks reddening. He recognized the signs, and before Harry could start wailing his lungs off, he took his son in his arms.

“Sh, it’s alright darling. I’m here”, he murmured against his head, smelling smoke in his black hairs. A new wave of grief passed over him, threatened to pull him at large, but he couldn’t let go. Not now, not when his son depended on him.

He turned away from Hagrid and started to pace across the room, rocking Harry against his chest. He didn’t want to ever let him go again. He could feel Harry’s face wet with tears and snot as he sniffled against Severus’ shoulder.

“Papa? Mama?” he asked, looking behind Severus as if James and Lily would suddenly appear.

“I’m sorry darling, they’re not coming. I’m sorry.”

He stopped at the window which faced the forest. The trees were in shades of red and gold, slowly losing their leaves. Some birds were flying over the branches, amongst dozens of owls which were bringing letters despite breakfast being over for more than an hour. They probably wouldn’t stop anytime soon. Hagrid was silent, yet Severus could feel his gaze on them. He kept his back to the half-giant. Now wasn’t the time to explain. He tightened his grip on his son, felt little fingers pulling on strands of his hair, and he wept.

~

Severus didn’t left Hagrid’s hut for the rest of the day. He wasn’t hiding – it wasn’t like people were looking for him. Hagrid left a couple of times, when Severus made no sign of giving Harry back, not that the baby was complaining, on the contrary. Harry didn’t wait long before falling asleep, and he only woke up when he needed to be changed or to be fed. A house elf brought food to Severus too, at Hagrid’s demand, but Severus didn’t touch it.

Hagrid brought some news. Dumbledore, as expected, had left Hogwarts for the day to convince the right people about his plan for Harry. McGonagall too, which was a little more surprising. Severus wondered for a moment where she could have gone, instead of celebrating the victory with the other teachers and their students.

Late in the afternoon, not long before dinner, Hagrid brought back a special edition of the Prophet and a bottle of Firewhisky. Severus barely glanced at it – he didn’t want to read about the community celebrating. Although Hagrid told him about Black and Pettigrew’s duel. There had been a dozen of Muggles killed alongside Pettigrew by Black. Apparently Pettigrew was trying to catch Black after his blatant betrayal. So, Black had really been a traitor after all. Severus wished he had been there to made him pay, but he took some comfort in the idea of his former rival rotting away in Azkaban. Still, he was sad for Harry. Black had been his official godfather, and Pettigrew like an uncle. To lose so much in such a short time… As for Lupin, Severus didn’t have much faith in him. With his “condition”, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Harry. As if Severus was any better. He wouldn’t be able to say or do anything betraying his true relationship with the Potters until it was certain the Dark Lord wad dead once and for all. How long would that take?

After dinner, when it was dark enough, Hagrid came back.

“Need to get going. Professor Dumbledore asked me to bring the little one to his aunt.”

Severus sighed. When will he see Harry next? Would he remember him? He leaned down to kiss Harry’s forehead, next to his scar. A souvenir from the Dark Lord apparently, where the Killing Curse had hit him and backfired. Severus had tried not to think how it would be to grow up with such a visible scar. Children could be so hurtful to each other.

“I love you, darling,” he whispered. “Always will.”

Slowly, Severus leaned back and stood up from his chair. He put Harry in a blanket so he wouldn’t be cold during the journey, and reluctantly gave him to Hagrid. The half-giant took him carefully, more than Severus would have expected him to.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Hagrid promised, voice strangled by emotions.

Severus only nodded. His throat was too tight to let him speak.

As soon as Hagrid stepped back, Harry started crying, making grabbing gestures towards Severus, calling after him. It took all Severus’ strength and more to not bring Harry back in the security of his arms. He trusted Dumbledore and his plan. He had to.

When the door closed behind Hagrid, tears began to run. He could still hear Harry cry. He went to the fireplace and gripped the mantelpiece. His fingers were paler than ever, so tight on the unforgiving stone, but the hurt barely registered.

Soon, the rumbling of the motorcycle and Harry’s wailing faded away and Severus was left alone.

He took the bottle of Firewhisky and sat in the large armchair by the fireplace. He couldn’t feel the heat. He barely felt the icy bite of his ring. He felt nothing and wanted to forget. He unscrewed the bottle and he could picture clearly Lily’s disapproval and James’ tentative comfort. But that was the problem: he could only picture it now. He would never get to see them again. His husband and his wife were dead, his son taken away.

~

Tears had slowed down since Hagrid left Harry on that doorstep. He still sniffed every couple of minutes as he landed next to his plot of pumpkins. He turned off the engine and swiped away some snot that was dripping threateningly near his beard. He didn’t have to be careful of being discreet, as his hut was far enough from the castle not to awake its occupants even if he decided to sing loudly – which was probably the plan to end the night. Firewhisky tended to bring his artistic voice out. He entered his hut, letting the door slam close behind him. He took off his coat and grumbled as he sat and bent down to take his boots off as well. The fire was dying, he would need to put some wood again in it if he didn’t want to die from the cold – or at least if he didn’t want to get sick. He went to his table and was surprised to see his bottle wasn’t there any more. He looked around and startled when he saw a dark figure in his favorite armchair. He stepped closer. It was Professor Snape curled on himself. He looked like a kid in the too-big-for-him armchair, and Hagrid couldn’t get angry when he saw the empty bottle by his side. He even felt pity as he witnessed tear tracks on the Professor’s pale face, the snot under his nose.

Whatever people thought, Hagrid wasn’t stupid. He knew what was said about Professor Snape behind his back. He knew no one but Professor Dumbledore trusted him. He had heard teachers and students alike talking about Professor Snape’s absence during the day, his inability to participate in the celebrations. They truly believed he wasn’t happy his Dark Lord had been defeated. Hagrid wasn’t stupid. He didn’t know everything, sure. Everyone had secrets, but he trusted blindly Professor Dumbledore and if the man trusted Professor Snape... Perhaps he had doubts before, like everyone else. Until he had seen Professor Snape’s haunted look last night in Professor Dumbledore’s office. Until Professor Snape came this morning and held little Harry like he was the most precious thing in the world. Until he heard whispers from Professor Snape and cries from little Harry. Hagrid wasn’t stupid. Everyone had secrets, and he knew things often weren’t exactly like they appeared to be.

So, he took a plaid from his bed and covered Professor Snape with it. He took the empty bottle away and made sure the fire would burn through the night. Whatever Professor Snape’s secrets were, he would damn well help him protect them.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 5: The North Mountain

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry and Y/N set off on a new journey and get stuck in another snowstorm.

Word count: 4.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

THEY’RE BACKKKKKKK! There’s another cave scene in this chapter 👀

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“Are you sure, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Y/N told Mary for the third and final time, hoping that she’d sounded determined even though her voice was wavering. She could feel Lance’s eyes burning holes on the side of her face. He didn’t want her to go through with this.

The throne room was utterly quiet. There were just the three of them and two guards standing by the door. Y/N hated how loud her heart was beating, as if even it could tell this was a bad idea.

“The journey won’t be easy,” Mary said, lacing her hands together in front of her crotch. “Many have tried to find the lake and those who returned had not even made it halfway to the top of the mountain.”

“I know,” Y/N said coolly.

Mary quickly looked from her to Lance as if expecting him to interrupt and convince Y/N that Harry wasn’t worth all this danger. But Lance kept a straight face, as usual, masking what he truly felt inside.

Mary drew in a breath. Then, she took the silver ring with a black gemstone off her finger and wiped it clean with the sleeve of her dress. “When my sisters and I were born,” she said, “each of us was given a ring like this. It was enchanted with our mother’s blood, so as long as the stone was red, it meant all three of us were alive in this world. That was how I knew my sisters were gone. After I’d escaped from Egon’s men, the stone faded to brown and eventually to black.” She turned to Lance. “This ring will let you know if the Queen’s in danger.” And back to Y/N. “All it takes is a drop of your blood, Your Majesty.”

Y/N met Lance’s uneasy gaze. He sighed and drew out the dagger attached to his belt and handed it to her. She held it firmly, biting her lip and pressing the tip of the blade into her finger until blood oozed out of the cut. Mary took hold of Y/N’s wrist and placed her finger above the ring. The red drop fell onto the stone and it glowed like a tiny flame before subsiding to a dimmer red.

“Blood calls to blood,” Mary said, giving the red-stone ring to Lance. He put it on as Y/N put the finger into her mouth, tasting the iron sting of her own blood. “If the colour darkens, it means she’s in danger. If it turns black, she’s dead.”

The way Mary said it, so assertively and pitifully, sent a chill down Y/N’s spine. But for Harry and her kingdom, she must not be afraid.

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Harry hadn’t expected to see the Queen in the stable. Who would expect to see a Queen out here in the middle of the night?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking equally surprised to see him.

He flashed a beam and continued stroking the black horse. “I ran into Jo and she told me to go feed the horses.”

“Feeding the horses isn’t your job,” Y/N said, arching an eyebrow.

Harry’s eyes widened. “It’s not?”

Y/N was speechless for a moment before she sighed. “Guide to surviving in my court: do not take orders from a maid.”

Heat pooled at Harry’s cheeks yet he managed to conceal his embarrassment with a grin. “Sorry. Your maid is pretty scary for a maid.”

Y/N shook her head as she broke into a smile. And Harry felt that weird sensation in his chest again. She’d been cold and distant since the last time they’d spoken two weeks ago. He hoped she’d forgiven him for what he’d done. Even though he didn’t know her, he felt a strong connection between them. He hadn’t had any nightmare lately about her jumping off a cliff or bleeding out to death on the floor, but those scenes had been stuck on his mind ever since the last time. He wished he knew what they meant or if they meant anything at all. That was one of the reasons he’d agreed to join her on this impossible quest – to make sure his nightmares wouldn’t come true.

“What are you doing here?” he asked and quickly added, “Your Majesty.”

Y/N’s mouth twitched subtly as she came closer. The black horse pawed the ground and snorted as if it were happy to see her.

“I’m here to say goodnight to Thunder,” she said, stroking the animal’s head.

“Thunder,” Harry echoed.

“I know what you’re thinking. Northerners have weird names for their horses,” she said. That was exactly what he was thinking. “You two have met before.”

“Thunder and I?” Harry asked, pointing to his chest.

Y/N nodded. “He was my ride on the journey last year. Would you like to see your horse?”

He said yes. And so she led him further into the stable to a beautiful brown horse who neighed and nuzzled Harry’s chest as soon as it saw him. Harry chuckled and stroked the horse’s back.

“Her name’s Lightning,” Y/N said and laughed when Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Harry didn’t remember having ridden Lightning before, but he felt like he knew her in the same way he felt like he knew Y/N. The memories might not be there, but the feelings were.

“Will it be just the four of us again tomorrow?” he asked.

“No, some of my men will be joining us. They’ll carry food and water.”

“What about the King?”

Y/N paused for a bit longer. “Lance must stay here. Someone has to run the court while I’m away.”

“And Attwell?”

“He’ll travel back and forth if necessary.”

Harry had heard from the maids that the people in Attwell loved Lance and were excited about the wedding. Y/N would probably receive the same amount of adoration in Isolde if she were a man. There hadn’t been any protests in the past weeks. Harry assumed Calanthe must be planning something else, so Lance had to stay here to pacify the court during the Queen’s absence. He wanted to ask Y/N about it, but he knew she wouldn’t discuss such matters with a peasant.

“Why doesn’t His Majesty go instead?”

Y/N’s expression remained the same as if she’d been expecting the question. “This is my kingdom,” she said, “so it's my responsibility, not his.”

“But he’s going to be your husband,” Harry ventured.

“So?” She lifted her chin proudly. “You think it’s because I’m a woman I cannot finish a job?”

“No, Your Majesty.” Harry could not help but smile. “I think you’re perfectly capable of getting the job done. It’s just...I wouldn’t let my woman risk her life out there while I’m safe here in the castle.”

“Lance insisted on going for me, but I didn’t let him,” Y/N said. “Just like you, I wouldn’t let my betrothed risk his life out there while I’m safe here in the castle.”

“Ahhh, so that’s what betrothed means,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. When Y/N didn’t reply and turned her attention to Lightning, he felt the need to keep this conversation going. “So...why are we searching for the lake? You asked me to come with you but you never told me why.”

Y/N straightened her back and folded her arms over her chest. There was something so serene about her, and Harry would sometimes catch himself staring unblinkingly at her face. He didn’t know if he was allowed to gawk at a sovereign, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind.

“One drop of water from that lake,” she began, “could cure the deadliest disease, heal broken bones, make a mute person talk and a deaf person hear. So if the lake exists and we have access to its powers, we’ll have a great chance of winning against the enemy.”

Harry pressed his lips together and shifted his gaze to his feet. Y/N let out a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind now.”

“I still want to go,” he said. “It just doesn’t make sense to me why you chose me to go with you. I’m flattered, Your Majesty. But I’m also confused.”

“Because we’re partners in crime,” she said. “Even though you don’t remember anything about our journey, I believe we’ll make a good team as we did, you and I.”

Harry swallowed as he nodded slowly. Being trusted by the Queen with this important quest made Harry anxious and elated at the same time. “I hope this trip will bring back my memories,” he said, then realized he was unconsciously twisting the gold ring on his finger. “Do you know how I got this ring?” He raised his hand. “I asked Kenny and she didn’t know, so I assumed I might have stolen it. I’m not feeling guilty, it’s just weird to wear a piece of jewellery that you stole without knowing how you stole it.”

To his surprise and delight, Y/N broke into laughter. “I gave it to you.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. It was a reward for saving my life at the Wind Valley.”

“Wow.” He admired the ring. Now that he knew how he’d got it, he started looking at it differently. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.

He dropped his arm back to his side and let out a sharp breath. “I can’t believe we’ve crossed the Wind Valley and done all those crazy things and I don’t remember anything.”

“I suppose we’ve made a lot of impossible things possible,” she said with a faltering smile. “But that was nothing compared to this. I need to know you’re ready.”

“I am.” He gave a firm nod. “I’ll try my best. That’s the least I could do for you before I leave the court.”

“Right,” Y/N said, almost to herself than to him.

He walked her out of the stable. It was snowing. She told him she could get back to her chamber on her own and wished him goodnight. Harry clasped his hands together behind his back as Y/N turned and started walking away.

He suddenly felt the need to shout after her. “You don’t have to worry! I’ll protect you and get you home safely to the King.”

Slowly, Y/N looked back over her shoulder. Their eyes locked, and a flicker of memory flashed across Harry's mind. It’d been snowing like this. They’d been at this same spot right outside the stable. Y/N was sitting on Thunder’s back, white snow falling all around them, decorating her hair with silvery flakes.

Reality rushed back into his vision when she spoke, “I can look after myself. You keep yourself safe.”

He opened his mouth yet could not utter a word.

Her red lips curled gently. And then she was gone.

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“What is it?”

Y/N’s voice brought Lance back to reality. He cast her a single glance before scanning his eyes around. They were standing outside the portcullis. The sky was just growing light. Men were already gathered, faces red in the morning chill as they saddled the horses that snorted clouds of steam.

“Nothing,” Lance lied, not looking at Y/N. He hoped she couldn’t see through his feigned nonchalance, although it hadn’t been effective lately. Y/N had acclimated to his attitude. Sometimes he thought she had to be the only person left in this world who really knew him. It was sad, as the more attached he grew to her, the more it’d hurt when she got back to Harry.

He unconsciously twisted the red-stone ring around his finger while keeping an eye on the soldiers and servants, acting occupied.

“I’ll be back in two weeks,” she said despite his silence. “Don’t miss me too much.”

He turned back to her. She was beaming. The dawn had reddened her nose and cheeks, and as he stared, he completely forgot what to say.

“I won’t,” he mumbled, averting his eyes before she could sense his anxiety.

She placed her hand on his arm and he tried his best not to react to her light touch. He didn’t like the person he’d become when he was around her. Always so sensitive and predictable.

“I trust you not to plot on overthrowing me while I’m away,” she joked.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know, my lady, your throne seems much more comfortable than mine.”

Y/N’s eyes wrinkled at the corners as she tilted her head. “When I get back, I’ll have a special cushion made for your throne.”

“I’ll hold onto that promise,” he said, flashing her his signature grin.

They were interrupted by Harry shouting at a servant for threatening Lightning with a whip. He shoved the man out of the way, obviously angry as he took the mare with him and whispered something to comfort her.

“He seems more himself lately,” Lance remarked.

Y/N only shrugged. It made him wonder what she felt inside.

She hadn’t spoken of Harry since she’d found him with the maid. Everyone in court was convinced that she was looking for the lake to use it as a weapon against Calanthe, and not to save Harry’s life. Lance didn’t want to get his hopes up. The things she did and said always contradicted the look she’d give Harry when he wasn’t looking – like she’d die for him. But he’d already died for her and was probably not coming back.

Lance told himself to never settle to be the second choice or even a choice; he’d been that his entire life being born a bastard. Yet, he would find himself looking at her that same way.

“We’re ready to go, Your Majesty,” said one of the men.

Y/N nodded once before turning to Lance. She held his gaze for a moment, probably rearranging the words in her head to make a proper sentence. She’d once told him that she was bad at goodbyes. He hadn’t thought one day he’d get to see it.

He mustered a smile and pulled the hood of her fur coat over her head, leaving only her face exposed. He cupped it with his gloved hands and she placed her hands over his. If it hadn’t been for the promise he’d made after the first and last time they’d been intimate, he would kiss her right now.

“Try not to die,” he said.

Y/N’s lips arched as she held his wrists. “Even if I die, I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt you and your new bride.”

He chuckled.

To his surprise, she pushed his hands down to close the distance between them and pressed her cool lips to his cheek. He instinctively tugged her in, hugging her like he’d always wanted as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The hug didn’t last for long. And when she pulled away, she turned at once and trudged toward Thunder.

Lance stood with his hands behind his back, watching her mount her horse and shout orders at the men. Harry was on the horse beside the Queen. For the first time since his return, he was looking at her the same way the old Harry would.

.

.

.

Jo had been watching Lance pace these halls for the entire day after Y/N had left. He looked restless and would keep checking the ring on his finger. It had been funny at first, but now it only concerned Jo.

Of course, Jo was worried about Y/N, too. But from everything that'd happened, she’d learned that every time people doubted Y/N, she’d proven them wrong. And so Jo believed in her. Besides, Y/N had been alone the last time. This time she had a group of soldiers to protect her. The biggest concern should be the existence of the lake. But it was not Jo’s responsibility to think about it. Worrying would do them no good. Life had to move on here in court with or without the Queen.

“Are you kidding me?” Jo asked as she picked up her skirt and chased the King down the long corridor. Lance’s legs were longer so he strode ahead effortlessly while she was out of breath trying to catch up with him. “I’m not sharing a room with the witch!”

“She’s not a witch anymore,” he said easily. “Besides, now that the Queen is gone, it’s time for you to make new friends.”

“Said the loneliest man in the world!” she jeered.

Lance stopped walking and turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you always so mean?"

She folded her arms, chin lifted. “I’m not sharing a room with the witch.”

“Too bad. I’m the one giving orders.” He spun on his heels and she immediately circled around him to stand in his path.

“Why should she get to live here anyway?” she said in annoyance. “She helped Calanthe kidnap Harry, tortured him and erased his memory. She should have been hung by now.”

Lance regarded an angry Jo as he tightened his jaw and sucked in a breath. “Y/N specifically requested that Mary stayed with you.”

“What? Why?”

The King lifted a shoulder. “Mary’s sister was the one who brought you back to life, wasn’t she? Don’t you think you should at least be nice to her?”

“Yes, her sister, not her!”

“The poor girl has lost everything and everyone, Jo. Have sympathy,” Lance said. “And I don’t hit women, but if she pulls some tricks, you can easily take her down.”

Jo put both hands on her hips as her mouth fell open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lance snorted, shrugged again and sidestepped her. He was walking away when his footsteps slowed and he stopped, standing rigid, staring at his hand. For a second Jo thought he was going to change his mind, but then he turned around and his face was pallid. “The ring,” he said.

Jo’s gaze dropped to his finger. The stone on his ring had turned to a darker red. A prickling sensation shot up Jo’s spine as she locked eyes with the King, both of them horrified.

Their Queen was in danger.

.

.

.

A bad storm hit as soon as Y/N and her men entered the forest at the foot of the North Mountain. The powerful wind roped itself around them, wanting to either choke them or yank them off their saddles. The horses pushed through the deep snow as the trees swayed back and forth, bending in every direction while the howling of the wind grew louder and more frightening.

Y/N could not see. She shielded the flying snow from her eyes with one arm while looking around for shelter. Unfortunately, her vision was blurred by the raging storm, and she was unable to see further than a few feet ahead. The wind became more bitter and vicious. Horses neighed and men shouted. Y/N told everyone to stay calm, not sure if anyone could hear her. The only thing that kept her sane was Harry being by her side from the moment they’d set off. She thought about what he’d said outside the stable last night. Maybe he really wanted to protect her.

A human scream tore through the crying of the wind, making Y/N snap her head up and strain her ears to listen. It was a woman shouting for help. It grew louder and clearer and more desperate by seconds. Somebody else was here in the forest in this storm. But why?

“We must move, Your Majesty!” Harry yelled at her.

“Did you hear that?” Y/N shouted back.

“What?”

“A woman! There! She’s calling out for help!”

“I hear nothing.”

“How can you not hear that? There it is again!” cried Y/N, but Harry only looked at her as if she were mad. She shook her head quickly. “That woman needs our help. We must save her.”

“Are you insane?” he growled. “We can’t even save ourselves!”

The woman screamed again. She sounded as if she were in pain. Y/N thought about the dying pregnant woman she’d pulled out of the burning house and her conscience didn’t let her move on. “Wait here! I’ll be back!”

“Y/N!” Harry snapped. But she’d already pulled the reins and kicked her horse into a gallop.

She hurried through the snow, chasing the screams until she saw a figure crawling on its hands and knees across the white snow. Y/N flew off her horse and rushed toward the woman. She could barely make out the woman’s face through the wind but Y/N knew she was alive.

Y/N swore she could hear the fizz and crack of her own heart breaking. Her hood was thrown back by the wind. The cold stabbed its talons into her skin like a thousand little cuts with a serrated blade. She reached for the woman’s arms to help her up, but as soon as she closed her fingers around what should be human’s flesh, she was grasping at nothing.

The woman had vanished.

In one violent crack, the ice broke beneath Y/N and shattered into a hundred tiny fragments, sending her plummeting into the black water.

A million knives stabbed her skin, slicing her open. Her lungs contracted as her numb hands clawed for something to hold onto. She wanted to yell. Her ribs crushed her heart, and her whole body started caving in.

As her eyes shivered open, Harry’s face was the last thing that she saw through the surface.

.

.

.

Harry knew something was wrong when he saw Y/N get off Thunder’s back and head straight toward the frozen river.

He’d forgotten about everyone else. His thoughts were running wild. He threw himself off Lightning’s back and hurried after her. She was standing out on the ice when he’d caught up. He called out to her, but she didn’t look back. Her hood was off and her head was bare, the wind churning up around her, making her look as if she were made of magic.

And then the ice gave way beneath her. A shudder and a crack and she disappeared into the river.

Harry ran. His heart flattened against his ribs. His feet were slipping on the ice. He dropped to his knees at the edge of a vast hole, plunged his arms into the black water and seized her hand floating just above her head. He pulled her up, dragging her onto the ice and into his arms.

He didn’t remember how they’d got back to their horses. Fear and panic had blurred his mind. They were lost. The others had either moved on without them or stuck somewhere in the storm. There was no time to look for them because he must find a place to hide and light a fire.

Y/N was shivering in his arms. Small ice crystals had formed in her hair and on her lashes and brows. He pushed her onto Lightning’s back and mounted the horse, sitting behind her, her head resting against his chest.

Suddenly, Thunder reared upon his hind feet. Harry feared that the animal thought he’d hurt Y/N. But then Thunder snorted and sprinted ahead. Harry knew the horse wanted him to follow so he kicked Lightning and chased after Thunder. He held the rein with his right hand, holding Y/N in his fur coat with his left arm. The cold was so unbearable that every breath he took caused him pain.

They rode and rode. The wind slapping against their bodies until Thunder stopped at the entrance of a cave hidden behind snow-covered branches. The black horse entered first and Harry and Lightning followed. The further they walked, the warmer it became, but it was not enough to melt the ice from their clothes.

Harry dismounted his horse and placed Y/N onto the ground, holding her closer to him to share his body heat. It was not working. Her clothes were all soaked. The only thing that let him know she was alive was her hot breath against his cheek.

“Stay with me,” he hissed, stroking her back.

His heart stammered as her eyelids fluttered. “I’m tired,” she croaked. “I’m going to sleep.”

“No.” He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a firm shake. “You’re not going to sleep. Promise me, Y/N.”

“I promise.”

Carefully, he laid her down and gathered as many dry sticks as he could find. The horses helped. It was obvious that they’d been trained for rescue missions.

Harry managed to light a fire which he hoped wouldn’t go out too soon.

Fuck, he hoped Y/N wouldn’t go out with it.

He quickly got back to her and dragged her back into his arms. “Here, stay close to the fire.”

The ice in her hair began to melt but her face grew bluer every passing moment. Now he was really afraid. He didn’t want her to die like this, in this cave.

“You saved me,” she spoke, her voice brittle. “Why?”

He schooled his face as their eyes met. “What do you mean?”

“I thought...I thought you hated me,” she said.

He swept her damp hair out of her face and frowned. “I don’t hate you, Peach.”

He hadn’t meant to call her that. It’d slipped out. He didn’t think she’d heard it, because she didn’t react. She was going to pass out.

He shook her again, forcing her to keep eye contact. “Tell me something,” he said. She needed to keep her brain working. “Tell me your most precious memory.”

Y/N’s face contorted as she shook her head. “I-I don’t know.”

“Think.”

She swallowed dryly, her purple lips quivering before she could manage, “Sunset.”

“What else?”

“Sunset...sunset…”

“No, Y/N, look at me!”

But she couldn’t.

Her eyelids slipped shut and her head fell to the side.

“No, no, no,” he chanted, shaking her as hard as he could but she did not respond. She was still breathing but it was becoming weak.

Harry had no other choice. Either this or she'd die.

“Forgive me, please,” he murmured and hurriedly removed her coat and the rest of her sodden clothes before he sloughed off his and spread their clothes beside the fire. His face burned with shame as he took her into his arms and wrapped his fur coat around their naked bodies.

He’d been close to many women, but none of them had been dying, so he told himself there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He was only saving her life.

Her face was buried into his chest. She smelled like winter. He continued stroking her wet hair until her breath grew steadier and her skin warmed up. The relief and ease that coursed through him felt too good to resist. He allowed exhaustion to engulf him and finally shut his eyes.

Outside, the storm was still raging, but at least for now, they were safe. He was just about to drift off when he felt her arm hook over him as she snuggled closer. If she were awake, she’d be able to hear how violent his heart was thumping against his chest. He thought about what she’d said, sunset, and tried to figure out what it meant, until finally, sleep took over him.

.

.

.

In the North castle, Lance sat by the fire, its glow illuminating his face. He heaved a sigh of relief and buried his head into his hands.

The ring on his finger had turned from black to red.

[mka1098]

I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage

Part 3

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_yqxljCzSpLyxbkpOGHAjoFKfkhSniBW

^^^ Audio form

The next week, Percy was pulling at his collar in discomfort; Annabeth had practically forced him into formal wear. “Percy, stop doing that.” She hissed at him. Percy pouted at her and huffed.

“I don’t like this.” He complained, words melting together in a heap. Annabeth rolled her eyes. “I can tell. You’ll be fine though, it’s only for a couple of hours and Princess Hazel is a very kind princess.” She said.

Percy gave her a nervous nod. Indeed, he had heard good things about Princess Hazel, 2nd born daughter to King Hades. Everyone knew she was a fair maiden, pure and sweet. She was also wise beyond her years, being only 17 but having the knowledge of an elder. Idly, Percy imagined that Annabeth would be that type of Princess.

“Her carriage has arrived,” Annabeth said in a professional tone. At once, her hand shot out to Percy’s arm and discreetly dragged him to meet the Princess. “Don’t look so miserable, Perce.” Annabeth said lowly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Percy grinned widely at her. “I’m not!” He insisted. She flipped up a brow but didn't say more.

The first thing that Percy saw exiting the carriage door was Princess Hazel’s curly brown hair. They were much less frizzy than Annabeth’s but they were fuller and had bigger curls. “Princess Hazel.” Annabeth said, bowing.

The Princess smiled at her. “You don’t need to bow.” She said kindly. Annabeth didn’t reply but she smiled nonetheless. Percy felt himself frown; of course Annabeth stuck with olden rules of bowing in front of every royal you met. Annabeth shot him a look that said, do your prince thing. He reached out and gently took the princess’s hand, giving it a light kiss on the knuckles.

“Princess Hazel, thank you for coming all this way. I am Prince Percy.” He said with a smile but inwardly cringed at the royal speech he had to use.

“It’s very nice to meet you too!” Hazel said, blushing a bit. Annabeth wordless motioned for to begin walking, giving slight directions to Percy as they walked.

“You have a beautiful castle.” Hazel commented, looking around.

“Thank you.” Percy said, not sure of what else to say.

Annabeth pushed open a door for them and the room they entered was one he’d never been in before; perhaps he had sometimes when he was a child but Annabeth had certainly decked it out, making it look new and different from the rest of the castle.

“Wow! I have never seen these types of gems before?!” Hazel cried in excitement. She shot forward to a table where Percy now noted that there were gemstones and crystals on it. “They are beautiful.” Hazel picked one up to examine.

Annabeth nodded from the far corner. “These rare gemstones only found the depths of our oceans and seas.” Annabeth said.

Oh, that made sense. Hazel’s kingdom had a huge focus on minerals and gems; if Percy’s kingdom had gems to offer it would make King Hades more willing to form an alliance and marriage. Percy wanted to slam his head on a wall because not only was love a factor here, but also power.

A sharp but quick pain shot through Percy’s arm, soundlessly he jumped and looked to his left to find Annabeth with an amused expression on her face. “Go talk to her, don’t be all awkward.” She said, pushing him slightly. Percy stuck out his tongue at her.

Hazel was exploring the crystals set out on the table with joy. Percy walked over and opened his mouth to try and start a conversation but he didn’t couldn’t think of anything. It was… well awkward. “So you like crystals?” He said, leaning over her shoulder slightly. He wanted to curse himself for being an idiot, of course she did! It was only just one of the biggest parts of her kingdom’s history! Hazel nodded excitedly at him and inspected more of the purple crystals that he was sure Annabeth had some other name for. How she managed to remember so many words was beyond him.

Admittedly, Percy was never good at not making this awkward. As much as magazines liked to portray him as a smooth-talking suave young prince, Annabeth never let him forget that he was the most awkward human on the planet. At the very least, he knew how to ask questions that got other people talking, this gave him more time to look like a normal person rather than the blubbering mess he normally was when Annabeth wasn’t by his side.

“Can you tell me about this crystal?” Percy asked. Hazel’s eyes seemed to brighten with the light of a thousand stars. “Oh yes! It grows in medium sized clusters of 4. They are neat little things. They grow quickly but in very sparse areas; I can’t believe your royal advisor was able to track them down.” She said, smiling at the blue crystal in her hand. Percy nodded.

“Yeah, she can do anything if she puts her mind to it.” He said with a fond smile. Hazel smiled back to him but didn’t say much more. It was starting to get very awkward.

“So what do you like to do normally?”

“I like to walk around my garden a lot. I love all the pretty flowers there; a lot of wild flowers grow really bigger without any help. We have very rich soil back home.”

“That’s very nice.”

“It is! Sometimes I’ll talk to the friends I’ve made around the castle. Like Frank, he’s one of the animal keepers.” Hazel said. Her smile grew tenfold when saying Frank’s name. Clearly, he was special to her.

“Frank?” Percy questioned. She blushed.

“Yeah, he’s… he is a very nice boy.” She admitted. She looked away from him, with an almost wistful smile.

“Tell me about him.” Percy said kindly. Hazel’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh, Frank, he’s the sweetest person on earth!” She started with excitement in her voice. “He’s so good with the animals! I don’t know how but it’s like he’s one of them. And he’s just so thoughtful and nice; we spend hours upon hours talking.” Quickly, Hazel cut herself off. She looked at him with widened eyes. “Sorry.” She said, brushing her hair back. “I was rambling a bit wasn’t I?” Percy shook his head and smiled nicely at her.

“It’s okay. You seem to really like him.” He said.

It was clear that they weren’t compatible in a romantic standpoint; she was sweet but there really wasn’t much connection or really meaningful things to talk about. Hazel bit her lip and shyly looked up at him, setting down the pretty rocks back onto the table.

“Yeah. I do.” She admitted in a quietish voice.

A wide grin spouted onto Percy’s face. “Then you should be with him. Not me, a random prince whom you don’t have much chemistry with.” His face went red when he realized what he had said. “I mean- not like in a bad wa- you’re really nice and great but like we- uh…” He said, getting flustered. Hazel laughed a bit.

“No, I understand. And I’m not offended at all. It’s very nice meeting you at the very least.” She said. The girl sighed and looked down. “I just… I really like him and I think he likes me too but he’s not royal. And you know the whole prince, princess and non-royal marriage thing well don’t you?” Her big brown eyes looked at him like a puppy dog. Percy nodded. “So, I’m just worried about that.”

Percy understood that. Completely. But he also believed that happiness should come first, especially in a lifelong marriage. “I do. I still think you should tell him, maybe marry him if that’s what you want. Happiness is more important than some old rule people came up with years and years and decades and centuries ago isn’t it? It’s your marriage; you have the right to decide who it’s with!” He encouraged her. “Really?” Hazel asked him. Percy nodded. “100%. If he makes you happy, if he’s the one that makes you smile and laugh then why choose someone else who doesn’t make you feel special?” Percy pointed out. Hazel nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right.” She said decidedly. “I’ll tell my father tonight!.” Percy nudged her shoulder playfully. “Atta girl.” He said with joy. She giggled a but.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not next to rule. I don’t need an heir; my sister will have one.” She said thoughtfully.

At that, Hazel brushed off her dress and Percy took that as a sign to leave. After all, it had been a couple of hours since she had arrived and even if they weren’t going to be engaged by the end of the day, Percy was sure Hazel would make a wonderful and sweet friend. He politely led her down to the palace entrance and back to her carriage. Like a gentlemen, he kissed her hand goodbye and kindly told her to come anytime she pleased; Hazel was a kind soul who’d always be welcomed.

“Thank you, Percy.” She said with a smile, picking up her skirt to get into her carriage. “I hope the same luck for you. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.” She said with a bright smile. Huh? Percy’s eyebrows scrunched together and his head cocked to the side in confusion. That… that really confused Percy. “What are you talking about?” He asked her.

At that, Hazel joined in his confusion. “Aren’t you in love with your Royal Advisor? Annabeth?” She asked. Percy shook his head.

“No.”

“Really?” He nodded at that. Hazel hummed. “Oh, well dear me. Sorry for thinking so.” She apologized. He waved it off.

“It’s all fine.” He said. Hazel eye’s flickered to the palace entryway; that was where Annabeth was at, babbling on the phone and scratching down stuff for his schedules and other royal duties he had yet to understand how to do.

But you’re going to have to learn to do them and then your future queen will have to help you. Not Annabeth. A little voice nagged in his brain. It took a lot of effort for Percy to not scowl at that voice. “I’m sorry, I just assumed. It seemed so much like true love to me.” Hazel said with a light smile gracing her face. She looked from Annabeth in the far distance back to him.

“If there is something, I hope it works out for you two. You’re right, happiness should always come first and I really think you’d be happy together.” She said.

Percy felt like his mind had just exploded. Uh… what? No! He was not in love with Annabeth! Not at all. She was his best friend, for years and years and years! Since they were literally 12. He wasn’t in love with her; that would be silly and cliche.

“Thank you for the time. It was really fun!” With that, Hazel waved out the window and away. Percy waved back, watching her leave but the words she had said reminded stuck in her head.

He wasn’t in love with Annabeth and she certainly didn’t love him that way. Annabeth was smart and funny, always on top of her work, courageous, dangerous because she could always make a plan and whatever it was and no matter how crazy it seemed, it would work. No way were they evenly matched. Percy was a confused, stull kiddish 18-year-old prince who still depended on his best friend for way too much and was still a baby to his mother. Not that the latter would ever change but perhaps the former wouldn’t either. Percy was a mess all the time! Annabeth was always perfectly put together. He was chaotic and had way too many not thought-out ideas that he just did. She had cool and composed and taught through everything she had ever done in her entire life with so much thinking, it had all worked as it should. There was no way they were contenders for a romantic partner in each other.

A light but effective smack in the head woke Percy up from his reverie. Blinking, he saw Annabeth at his side, shaking her head and clicking her tongue in a disappointed manner. “Next princess.” She muttered under her breath, jotting something down the grey notebook she had in her hands.

Percy looked at her in the light.

Another reason she could never be in love with him; she was much too pretty for him. From an objective standpoint, that is. Percy knew he wasn't bad-looking but Annabeth looked like an angel at almost all times of the day. Like a beautiful but deadly angel that is. Objective. Percy created in his head. Yes, there was no one Hazel was right. There was no… romance between them and considering different levels he and Annabeth were one, there wouldn’t ever be. Or at least on her part.

Idly, as just as quickly as the thought came, Percy smacked it away, he wondered if he could ever fall in love with her. No, no, no. He was not going to entertain that question.

“Come on. You have fittings to do and I have PR events to do.” Annabeth said, dragging him into the castle by his shirt sleeve.

“But I don’t want to!” He whined like a kid. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled fondly.

“Too bad, seaweed brain. Or do you want to do that essay on royal attire history?” She asked. Percy immediately shut up. Annabeth laughed.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

[ocegion]

I made this post some weeks ago and @sal-si-puedes was of the opinon that I should actually write it... So here it is. A bit late, but here it is.

______________________________________________________________

Nicolò walked through the dark as quietly as humanly possible, slow steps coming to a halt every time he thought he heard the slightest noise. He held his breathing in for nearly longer than his lungs could take, and his wide-open eyes resembled an owl. His heart was racing, but despite all of it, a slight smile was slowly making its way to his face.

His destiny was already within sight. Just a handful more steps and he’d be at the door.

He was alone, and if everything went according to plan, which it would, then no one else but Yusuf would ever know he’d been there in the first place. Andromache, for sure, couldn’t know; she was adamant that a minimum of a century had to pass before they even considered returning anywhere they’d been. So far neither of them had had any reason to doubt she knew what she was talking about.

This surely was no problem, though. No risk at all. All he needed was some discretion. Nicolò hummed happily to himself, already starting to look through his travel bag for the heavy metal keys. He only hoped the lock hadn’t rusted away too much.

Then, just as he was about to try and find the keyhole in the dark-

‘Who goes there? What do you want?’

Nicolò would start inwardly cursing everything within a few seconds, but for the time being all he could do was blink rapidly as the light coming from the just-opened next door blinded him and rendered him powerless to do anything but stand there like a goddamn idiot. He felt his throat dry up.

‘What are you doing here at these hours of the night? I swear, if you’re some filthy thief, you’re going to regret- oh.’

Nicolò remained silent. He stared into the face in front of him and, just as predicted, started to inwardly curse everything, himself first and foremost. The man blinked repeatedly at him.

‘Mister Nicolas, is that you?’

A surprised yelp came from the house, and a kind-looking woman, appearing about fifty-something years of age, rushed out the door, settling herself behind her husband, but poking out her head to curiously, meticulously examine Nicolò. Nicolò still said nothing, but he strongly suspected that his face said it all, if the muscles he felt pulling at his cheeks were any indication. He should, by all means, vanish into thin air to the best of his ability, but apparently, even after all these years, he was turned into an utter, useless fool the moment he was taken by surprise.

The woman yelled again - not so loud, Nicolò would have begged had his mouth not been so dry - and covered her mouth with her hands. A few more lights could be seen appearing in nearby windows, and Nicolò felt a knot forming in his throat, slowly suffocating him.

‘Mister Nicolas, it is you!’ she exclaimed, coming out of her poorly-deviced shelter and approaching him. She reached a hand out to his face, but when Nicolò instinctively leaned back, her hand fell. ‘How is it possible? Holy Mary, you haven’t aged a single day.’

He now managed to make some sound, although he didn’t quite get more than a few words stringer together. Luckily, arguably, he was interrupted before the silence became overbearing.

‘Could it be…?�� The man began, full of awe, but with a hint of fear, ‘Did you finally do it, Mister Flamel? Did you achieve the philosopher’s stone? Is that what this magic is?’

‘It’s not magic, it’s alchemy. Completely different things. Alchemy actually exists’ was what he finally blurted out, and yes, he most definitely was going to whip himself for that later on, because should that really be your priority right now? He had spent quite a few years learning all he could in the name of knowledge, but he really should be focusing on not making the mess he was already in even messier.

Too late. The couple in front of him, his neighbors from over two decades ago, were looking at him in utter wonder. A few more people, coming out of their houses to investigate the commotion, were whispering among themselves.

Under normal circumstances, he would be ashamed to admit he panicked, but he honestly didn’t believe he had any other choice. He shoved the key into the door, thanked God that it only took a bit of force to turn it, and slammed the door shut as soon as he was in.

He hid his face in his hands and groaned.

Andromache was going to make him wish he could die.

The muttering on the street not only didn’t die down, but it took strength as the minutes passed. Nicolò bit the inside of his lip, trying with all his might to figure something out. When he didn’t immediately come up with a solution, he just sighed and headed for the stairs. He might as well do what he had come to do.

Everything remained exactly as they’d left it years ago, with a thick layer of dust covering every available surface and spider webs making it hard to make out the ceiling even with the light of the candle he lit. He hadn’t been sure whether he’d remember exactly how to navigate the house, but it was easy finding their old bedroom. He coughed a little when the intense closed-off smell hit him, and he briefly considered opening the window, but he cringed and stopped himself from it the moment he heard the people on the street. Better not risk it.

He went to the table by the bed, the sheets destroyed by moths and who knew what else. A cloud of dust jumped to his face as soon as he opened the drawer, but his eyes landed on what he was looking for and his lips formed a triumphant smile.

He reached in, swept his thumb across the surface, and a faint red glow appeared where he’d cleaned the dust. Even in the dim light, the ruby shone like it had light of his own. Nicolò felt warmth spreading through his chest and cheeks, and brought the gemstone to his lips to place a quick kiss on it before gingerly securing it on his bag.

He had given it to Yusuf on the day that marked the tenth year since they first shared their love, nearly two centuries ago now. They had been in India, and although Nicolò usually didn’t pay much attention to such kind of thing, he’d seen the stone in a pendant and felt the overwhelming urge to give Yusuf something worthy of his beauty.

He’d never forget the tender smile on his lover’s lips when he saw it, or the infinitely loving look in his eyes as he allowed Nicolò to place the silver chain around his neck.

‘It is the red of the blood we once drew from one another, and that we now ache to spill to protect each other’ he’d muttered before sealing his lips against his own. As usual, he’d been able to put words to what was a mere unformed thought in the back of Nicolò’s mind.

The necklace itself had been worn away with the decades, but Yusuf had kept the ruby everywhere he went. He said it made him feel like Nicolò was always by his side, even if they rarely ever parted for more than a handful hours.

Dear God, how he loved that man.

And then, of course, they’d had to leave it behind. Twenty five years ago, their little family had stayed some time in Paris, laying low and resting from the last war they’d mixed themselves into. Nicolas Flamel had peacefully spent his days in the city researching alchemy, his latest passion, along with his wife Perenelle. He’d conveniently lived in the same house as his sister Adrienne and her husband Joseph, a bit of a strange arrangement, but nothing that raised too many eyebrows. It had been a quiet, pleasant few years.

Until, of course, Quynh had decided to get involved in the overthrowing of some corrupt local nobleman, and the next thing any of them knew was that that they had participated in an assassination and they had to vanish from the city with nothing but what they were wearing.

He’d left his favorite sword behind. Nicolò yearningly looked at it, dull with lack of use, resting on the room corner. He had hoped to get it back too, but it was too big to carry and be able to sneak out, which was what he was going to have to do.

He had the ruby, though, which was what mattered. Yusuf had spent the last two and a half decades bemoaning its loss. They were spending a couple days in a small town just a couple hours of riding away from Paris, and Nicolò had thought he could ride there, grab the gem, and ride back all before the sunrise woke Yusuf up.

He, technically, hadn’t been wrong. He had plenty of time before the first light. He just hadn’t planned for this mess.

He quietly made his way downstairs after one last wistful look at his sword and a couple more belongings. Maybe in another few decades. He approached the door, sighing with relief when he heard no commotion outside. Maybe they’d all gone to bed. As soon as he opened the door, however, he was met with even more of his old neighbors, all turning their heads just in time to see him slam the door shut once again.

He groaned, louder than before.

He started considering the possibility of just spending the rest of eternity running from Andromache.

He climbed up the stairs again, but instead of entering his and Yusuf’s old room, he made his way into the one on the opposite side of the hallway. His eyes briefly went over Andromache and Quynh’s belongings, but he went to the window, silently opening it. He gauged the distance between himself and the roof in front of him. Surely, if he made a good jump, he could grab the ledge and prop himself up. It wouldn’t be the first time he did something like that.

He placed his foot on the windowsill, tested it, counted to three, and-

‘There he is!’

Nicolò, for the most part, kept profanity off his mouth. His sisters and husband had a dirty enough mouth without him adding to it. God, however, would understand that this warranted the loudest, angriest curse his lungs could muster, he hoped as he lost his footing and plummeted towards the ground.

He didn’t die, he didn’t think so, but he did lose consciousness for a couple seconds, because the next thing he knew was that he was hissing as he felt his bones snapping back together. He held a hand to his head where it’d landed. He was mildly aware that there were people gathering around him, the light of the torches making him wish his concussion would pass even faster. The first thing he did when he had command of his own body, however, was to take the ruby out and sigh in relief when he saw it was untouched. He’d never forgive himself if his foolishness had led to its shattering.

He saw a foot stepping into his line of sight, and with a tired sigh, raised his eyes to meet those of another of his old neighbors.

‘You have all seen it. He should have died from that’ the man said, looking at him with wide, wide eyes, but talking to the crowd around them. When had it become a crowd? Shouldn’t these people be sleeping? Surely they had hard work to do in the morning. ‘Is that… Is that it? Is that the stone?’ he added, eyes wide with awe and an undeniable amount of greed. 

Nicolò gritted his teeth as he stood up. He really wasn’t in the mood to have to fight anyone off the stone. He held the ruby high, clear for everyone to see. He projected a confidence he most certainly wasn’t currently feeling.

‘This stone has more powers than you can imagine. It’s kept me alive, but it can do many other things. Much worse things. Stand in my way, and you’ll discover what horrors made me leave it behind.’

God, was that him talking? He didn’t even know what he was saying. The circle around him widened as everyone took a step back, however, so at least there was that.

Nicolò took a step forward, wielding his most righteously furious look. More than a few people hesitated, eyes still fixed on the stone, but a second of meeting his eyes had them scrambling back. He wasn’t free of them, however, with the people following him from a distance until a couple streets over, where he got on his horse and rode away faster than he had in all his life.

Two hours later, he slammed open the door of the inn room he and Yusuf were renting. Andromache and Quynh, thank mercy, were currently on Persia, saving him from his leader’s fury for at least a couple months.

‘Yusuf. Wake up.’

The love of his life made a confused, half-asleep noise. Nicolò started getting their clothes and other belongings.

‘I said wake up.’

‘Nico, it’s not even morning. What’s gotten into you?’ He yawned, still not moving from the bed. He scowled. ‘Why are you wearing your riding clothes? Were you out?’

‘Just… Just get ready. We’re leaving.’

‘Nico, what have you done?’

‘Don’t ask any questions. Let’s just go. Please.’

‘My life, what the fuck have you done?’

‘I’ll tell you later, now just fucking go!’

__________

Nile blinks repeatedly, mouth hanging slightly open as she looks at Joe, who looks entirely too pleased with her reaction. She can tell he’s barely managing to fight off the urge to laugh out loud.

It still takes her a moment to collect her thoughts.

‘You’re kidding, right? You have to be kidding.’

Joe snickers. He makes a gesture to indicate her to stay put and exits the room, coming back a minute later. In his hand lies an old, worn down ruby which he gently places on Nile’s hands for her to inspect. She feels her face become a mix of incredulity and utter, insane amusement as she inspects the stone. The edges are worn down, but it still looks lovingly taken care of. She can, in fact, believe it’s a lover’s gift from nearly ten centuries ago.

'Behold, the renowned philosopher’s stone. Not much use to us, but it’s neat having it around.’

She still doesn’t quite manage to rein her expression in, which earns her a hearty laugh from Joe as the man reaches out to take the ruby back. His eyes are full of merry, but they also hold a fond warmth as he looks at the stony, gently caressing it with his thumb.

‘What’s so funny around here?’

Nile turns to look at Nicky, who just walked into the room and is casually leaning into the door frame, eyebrow raised curiously at them. Curiosity quickly turns into puzzlement when Nile just keeps staring.

‘Nicky, you’re in Harry Potter’ she finally says.

His expression immediately turns sour, like he’s licked a lemon. He presses his lips thinly together as he looks at Joe, eyes narrowed but somehow looking more devastated than pissed. Nile finally bursts into laughter, louder even than Joe.

‘Joe, you didn’t,’

‘He was livid when Harry Potter came out’ Joe explains with a carefree gesture of his hand. ‘It’s why he never liked it, even back when it was just the first book. I honestly don’t get it, it’s not like we ever let him live it down either way.’

‘The last thing I needed was a million children learning that name’ Nicky bemoans, cheeks taking a slightly red tinge. ‘It’s awful.’

‘You’re a legend, Nicky’ Nile muses, voice nearly cracking with the urge to laugh again. Joe hums good-naturedly, crossing his arms, eyes shining as he looks over at his distressed husband.

‘That he is, Nile. That he is.’

[danddymaro]

Only Reversing Time | Aizen Sosuke x Reader

Summary; Only with reversing time could it have all been different, because he had already made his choice. 

A/N: So Kyouka Suitgetsu is basically Aizen in a sense, a piece of him. 

She knows how he feels, but he’s too stubborn to admit himself even to her. He’s too proud to admit that in his heart he has regrets. 

   - She was cruel, but it's out of love... 

It’s all because of love.

Edited/Fixed

Warning : I can’t say there's any real romance in this, but I really just like writing. Even if it’s a stress at times, it’s nice rolling out new ideas. Anyways, I own nothing but the story itself.

Mentions Of betrayal

Flashbacks 

mentions of the Vizards

Maybe some Shinji x Reader , but it can easily be platonic.

Angsty

Word Count: 6021

Only reversing Time

The soft, clicking sound of small, pointed heels was produced, and soon echoed throughout the empty room, seizing the attention he’d granted his earlier musings. 

He had been caught in thought, once again suspended in time, and it was a momentous event brought forth by the small piece held within his right hand.

- Something he had yet to let go of.

Within his hold and laying at the center of his palm was a small silver piece, a hairpin to be precise. 

The lovely gemstones which had once been on it for decoration were now gone, leaving behind small, black vacant holes where the small colorful crystals once were held down. Moreover, over what was once gleaming silver, colors of rust had formed, the coppery tint taking over a good portion of the hairpin. 

While in such an ugly state that it was currently presented with, it was hard to imagine such a thing was ever considered lovely, but he knew that at one point in time it had been vibrant, co-existing with the most prepossessing beauty he’d ever seen in his life.

‘A beauty unparalleled,’ He thought to himself before he paid any heed to the coming visitor.

Lazily, his dark-toned eyes drifted up to his new company, looking towards the guest that had come to see him, all with a rather stoic glance, giving her only part of his focus.  

 At his slight attention, she seemed pleased, joyous to have captured even a fraction of it, even if it was distant or cold.

Because If even a small part of him drew towards her, she knew she had him where she wanted.

“Sosuke...” she sang grinning joyously, stopping suddenly to gaze up at him from where she stood, just beneath the many steps leading up to his throne. 

Her hands clasped behind her in a childish manner while she shifted in her spot as though she wanted to tell him something, something she was too bashful to voice. Her cheeks bloomed with a touch of rose as she gave him a small giggle before shaking her head, keeping whatever she wanted to say secretive and deciding that perhaps it wasn’t the best time to tell him. 

- Years and years of knowing her...and she never admitted to him why she’d showcase such a sweet demeanor.

But he always wondered... 

- Always thought of all the possibilities.

‘ I never came to know what secrets you held...’ He thought to himself as he stared at her. ‘ What was it that you always held from me...? What had you been hesitant to say...?’

Rather than speak more, she grinned, her smile radiating through the dark room as she peered her eyes up at him. However, a soft glimmer resonating from the piece in his hold stopped her charming ministrations, making her expression melt.  

Her shoulders dropped and the perk she had presented herself with died down.

  “Oh Sosuke…” she murmured, her eyebrows creasing. “ You’re still holding onto that old thing?” She asked with disbelief. 

“ Could it be because you missed me?” She questioned him, a notable lingering of amusement hidden within the words which came through as mockery.

It was a question that needed no answer, because she already knew.

She knew every one of his secrets now, but he understood why she asked. He knew well enough why she acted the way she did.

Why she came by so frequently... 

why she behaved in such a way...

“You know, you shouldn't,” she stated, ” Don’t think of me Sosuke. 

Don’t...because soon you'll have everything you want.” She said with an uplift of the corners of her mouth, spreading her arms out wide, the downhearted expression that had come over her now gone. 

She spun around, twirling as a small hummed tune came from her, a song which had been all hers.

And before, during their time spent at the soul society, it had been a mindless little melody he found strangely comforting, and something close to a warm lullaby.

 In the past, he had found the halls filled with that sound whenever she walked alongside him, their hands both filled with large stacks of paperwork their captain had been too leisure to finish himself. 

And on occasions which were very scarce nights beneath the lovely moonlight she so loved to gaze upon, he heard the same sound, her little song traveling through the night air, the tranquil peace being uninterrupted by her mellow sound.

 He remembers it all so vividly...

He remembers the way her body swayed left and right as she sat across him, her light hums causing his knotted shoulders to melt. Too many times he’d stop, finding his eyes glued to the woman as she paid no mind to his peeks at her. 

 And he wondered if she ever came to realize that he stared far too much for it to have been normal.

Did she only choose to ignore him? or had she honestly paid so little mind to his wondering eyes that her blissful ignorance was all she could pay him back with?

The tune had once been beautiful, the sound once lovely to him,

but now, it made his skin chill. 

It haunted him, echoing throughout the empty room and haunting him.

With a seldom look to his eyes he watched her move as something in his chest began to respond to her presence, more specifically to that damned sound.

 And it felt torturous...

What did he really want? 

What was it he truly desired?

He asked himself what it was this was all for...

-  if it was truly worth it.

‘Why?’ He continued on with uncertainty, but as the question came to mind, he stopped in his tracks, going no further into those pondering thoughts that would only lead to more doubt. 

“Damn it...why now...?” he asked himself, “ Why now of all times?” he asked her with a tight press to his two rows of teeth as he glared at her harshly.

He had done something he hadn't done in what was an entire millennium, and that was to second guess. 

He doubted his moves, questioned his logic... his gain.

He asked himself if it Was all really worth it.

He asked himself what would have been had he simply let go of his ambitions.

 Moreover, he wondered if she would have been enough to keep him happy, if perhaps that lovely woman from his past was enough to give his mundane existence of before meaning. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, a small breath leaving his parting lips as he tried to envision it.

- Her soft painted lips on his, her hands both lovely and warm taking hold of his own to kiss with tenderness as she peeked up at him through her fanning dark lashes. 

And in her eyes adoration would shine. 

Sweet words, all addressed to him, would come from her as she accepted him as he was. 

Would she have accepted him if he had shown her just part of who he really was? and if so... what would she had thought of him if he had given her a full taste of his true self?

would she have still taken him in with the same tenderness?

- Would she have loved him?

In his small moment of wonder and thought, the (h/c) haired woman had traveled to him, standing before him now, closer than she had ever come to when she made her unexpected drop in’s.

Her hands went to touch him, moving to caress his face with a loving look of tenderness making her eyes glow with warmth. 

And when he came out from his daydream, he saw her close, just as she had been in his musing.

His fair skin warmed, soft tickles of imaginary feathers teasing his insides and stupidly he awaited the touch, closing his dark eyes with a small shutter. 

‘Would it have been like this?’ He asked himself. 

Unwillingly his heart skipped a beat, remembering just how beautiful a feeling she could inspire within him and that it hadn’t always been painful.

‘ Would something as minimal as a touch been enough to sedate me?’ He continued on, and he waited for her, wanting to find out, but instead of the expected touch, he felt nothing. 

He waited until the gentle heat touching his insides settled, inwardly cursing himself for letting her control so much of him.

Retracting back when she couldn't connect with him, she closed her eyes, tears coming out from her two (e/c) drops. 

And during her suffrage she stared right at him, her melancholic face set before him, wordlessly showing her sorrow.

“Sosuke...” she said with a heave, reaching out to him again, “ Please Sosuke, look at me... please,” she begged him as his eyes shut tighter, his lips also pressed together harshly because he knew that without the pressure they’d tremble. 

His two hands were both balled, ignoring her, using every fiber of his being to cast her presence aside. 

- Discard her like she was common garbage.

“Sosuke, why?” she asked him, “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him, her frantic pleas being disregarded by him. 

She reached out to grasp at his collar, but her hands went through him, not reaching him for the answers and attention she begged for.

“What did I do wrong Sosuke?” she asked him, making his teeth grind against each other to the point it hurt.

‘Nothing...’ He thought to himself. 

She hadn't done anything wrong, she had been perfect. 

She gave in with her head hanging, stepping farther from him, the beautiful mirage before him cracking.

And in the truth that's all she had been, a mirage, nothing but a simple illusion of his. 

She was a  visual representation of his deep regret, a secret he held grave and still pondered over, revisiting far too often. 

More than he should...

He would have wanted nothing more than to have her with him, right at his side, watching as all the pieces fall together perfectly. He would have wanted nothing more than to have someone he could truly trust, someone loyal to him rather than a snake that followed his every move with the goal of laying its venom.

He then decided to gaze upon her, finally looking towards her to find her staring at him with melancholic (e/c) eyes, ones he found utterly mesmerizing in every single way. 

“Sosuke,” she started, taking a long breath, “ Did you love me?” she asked him, the white gown she wore changing before his eyes, morphing into the familiar uniform she had worn during her time in the soul society instead. 

“- No.

...Do you still love me?” She said with wait, correcting herself. 

His hand began to rise, going to touch her, but remembering just what would happen if he continued, he stopped.

 “Yes,” he answered her, finally admitting to it with a single nod accompanied with his low voice.

He loved her,and much more than that,  he missed her.

He ached for her.

A small smile, one that was plainly bittersweet went on display over her lovely face. 

She said nothing afterward, but even with silence, she struck him. 

Her (e/c) eyes stared right at him, focused on just his existence and nothing more.  

They both knew what came next, and she didn’t beg him to keep her alive, to do what he hadn’t done in the past and spare her. 

She didn’t do such a thing, because she wasn’t intent on staying. 

- It had never been her plan.

Unlike before, he showed his inner turmoil, facing (f/n) with the same grief he had felt before, the one he swallowed down whenever there was remembrance of her. 

He never let himself go so vulnerable, but because it was a final time, he wanted to give in just once. 

He wanted to let himself give in to what he truly felt. 

He wanted to be vulnerable and small for just a moment.  

He knew it wasn’t really her. He knew (f/n) wasn’t really there, and even then it pained him. Even when he reasoned that it wasn’t the woman he loved and just some illusion, he still hesitated, his hands shaking. 

‘ It must be done,’ He thought to himself, gripping the hilt of his sword, fingers curling over the emerald handle wrapping. 

He would destroy her again, and this time for good.

 And he’d make sure that this time around there was nothing was left. 

“Don’t  you want to know why?” He asked her, the question making the woman shake her head in refusal. “ It makes no difference,” she replied, “You know why Sosuke,” she added. “And I know why as well,” she said with amusement, her character doing a complete turn. 

Because she seemed no longer saddened, but instead,  happy... proud even.

A small smile curled the corners of his lips as he released a dry chuckle, “ Of course,” he said back. 

“You wouldn’t let it go would you?” he asked the woman. 

“I only follow you’re example,” she reminded him.

“So call my name, “ she told him, “ Call my true name and finish it off,” she advised, seeing the man’s hand begin to shake with how strongly he held the sword.

“It must be done,” she continued on, convincing him.

“Kyouka Suitegtsu, “ He said lowly, “ Shatter,” he muttered.

‘Shatter it all, finish her off,’

And with his command, the beautiful mirage shattered before him as his zanpakuto did as she was told. 

‘Sosuke,’ Kyouka Suigetsu said softly, the voice going back to the one she normally used as she once again shared his body.

‘ You know It had to be done,’ She reasoned.  ‘This pain shouldn’t be held...You must destroy everything that is hers, even the piece of your heart that holds her dear...’ She advised.

More than anyone else she knew of his suffering, but she also knew of his desires as well. 

He couldn’t come so far to simply foil his own plans by simply doubting, making everything he’d done until then meaningless. 

She was  cruel indeed, but only because she loved him.

‘There’s just one thing that remains, ‘ She reminded him, urging him. 

Nodding, he agreed.

His open palm closed, tightly clenching over the small pin in a mighty hold, using everything he had and crushing it easily. 

There was a barely audible sound of it snapping, breaking into many pieces, tiny ones that not even the best craftsmen could piece back together, because only with only reversing time could he bring back the former beauty.  

He couldn't have a weakness, and he couldn't have something to lose.

He could have the world in his hands, but in that existing plan,  there wasn’t room for (f/n) to be kept there. So with his own mighty hand, he destroyed the last piece of the beautiful memory he had of her.

 He destroyed what little part of his past that made him regret and feel sorrow. 

Because there wasn’t room for her in his heart any longer, she could no longer be a desire of his. 

The Hogyoku wouldn’t allow anything else but his full will.

- To regret was to falter, and to falter was to lose, giving up all he had worked for.

His clenched hand spread out, letting the shattered pieces fall to the cold ground, left to be forgotten like everything else that lay to waste on the sands of Hueco Mundo. 

He stood up from his seat, moving forward, his sandaled feet stepping over the shattered remains, crushing it beneath his feet.

He stepped over her once again before making his journey to the battleground, the soft glimmer in his eyes disappearing before he stepped out. 

He was almost towards his goal... just moments away.

With his transcendence towards an existence far surpassing that of both hollow and shinigami, he could never stand by such a small speck of existence. 

She couldn’t be there, not without being destroyed at least.

He saved himself the pain, because her demise was inevitable, and he reasoned that it was better done by his own hands.

 In the end, he destroyed the path for no return. 

100 Years ago...

She cried out in suffrage, feeling her entire body burn from the inside out as though she were filled with bubbling lava rather than the scarlet liquid which oozed from her pierced skin.

 Every inch of her figure spasmed with agonizing torture, the wounds she’d received before being nothing in comparison to the affliction she felt now. 

And soon, both her fingers and her toes curled, crunching at their small joints, snapping repeatedly in pulsing motions as she tried to gain function of her limbs.

 But whatever wicked spell cast upon her fought back, her body possessed by something powerful growing from within. 

- It would all be just a fruitless struggle.

‘Why is this happening?’ She asked herself. ‘Why?’ she continued on, hacking up, feeling bile rise from her stomach, the swirling contents wanting to find an out through her gaping lips which were now pressed firmly tight. 

Swallowing down the acidic contents, she hobbled forward, trying her best to keep herself up, trying her darnest to just make it out alive.

‘I have to fight this,’ She thought with determination, her teeth pressed firmly together as she locked her jaw fiercely, her brows driven down south to the lowest dip they could fall.

‘ I just have to,’ She told herself, however, her body began to grow heavy and beneath her own weight, her trembling knees buckled. 

Falling onto them and landing on the ground with a crash, she fisted the dirt ground, feeling the small grains collect in her fingernails and push painfully against the skin.

‘No...’ She insisted as she continued to move forward, crawling. 

And then something more than just pain built up within her, something she hadn’t truly felt before to such a magnitude.

Melting with the pain and torturous ache was spite. 

Hate and spite, both sentiments in which she’d never truly bathed in began to drown her, suffocating her existence. 

They began to eat at her, and with the more she felt the wretched feelings, the hotter her insides burned, like feeding fuel to a burning fire, making it grow with more fury. 

“S-SOSUKE!” she screamed, crying out to him, reaching one of her hands out to the retreating shinigami, forcefully straightening her curled fingers out to try and reach him better. 

If she could only touch him... if she could only know it was all some mirage, some nightmarish magic cast over her eyes...

 - Because it just couldn’t really be him.

‘No...’

Not Sosuke, who’s eyes were like melted chocolate, sweet and warm, always looking onto her with what she had been certain was care. 

She had been certain care was there when he’d offer to walk her home at night. 

She had believed it existed when he invited her to watch the fireworks...Or when he wrapped his scarf around her the week before then, when it had been an unexpectantly chilly night.

 His voice which had been one that was capable of melting ice had spoken to her, saying her name with what she could easily say would be love, chided her for not wearing another layer on what were cold nights. 

She thought it had been there...

Love, from not just one from a man to a woman, but love that was true, pure-hearted.

 - Love that had first grown from simple, sweet care. 

“SOSUKE!!!” She said again, beginning to huff with rugged pants, panicking as her heart came to a halt, the momentary stop causing her alarm. 

The heavy drumming of her muscle stopped playing, and she couldn’t understand why. 

She couldn’t understand why any of it was happening. 

‘Sosuke why?

Why ? why if we were friends?

Why if we were ... I thought…

I thought… ’

She wanted to believe it was all a nightmare, or at least some sort of wild misunderstanding, but as she saw him she was too much corruption.

She watched his vicious smile of overachievement and arrogance. 

She witnessed his prideful gratefulness at his master plan.

Altogether, she saw a man she didn’t know and it angered her, all the possible explanations proving him innocent flying out the window. 

Reason began to drain out of her as she soon saw red.

She saw what lay beyond the mask he wore, and she slowly realized that the person she so stupidly trusted was nothing more than treachery.

‘ Friends...No… it was all lies…

All lies…’

“All...this...time...”

The pain coursing through her body melded with betrayal, and became completely overwhelmed by growing spite and hate that soon take over. 

What thread in which she’d held onto that kept her sane tore, leaving nothing behind of the loving innocence, or understanding soul. 

“Traitor…” she rasped through her raw throat, “Sosuke….Sosuke you traitor…” She murmured over and over. 

She could only utter a single name, a single person whose fault it had all been…

Her tongue dried and she couldn’t say nothing more but that dammed name, it being all she could utter out,

“SOSUKE...SOSUKE-AIZEN!”

A name she had only ever produced with a smile before then had became the bane of her existence.

Right at the center of her chest, occupying the space where her heart should lay, a vacant hole began to produce, opening wider as the seconds rolled by, quickly beginning to cover a grand portion of her chest. 

Instantly, her hands flew to her hollowed out chest, feeling them go straight through.

 Absolute horror washed over her before she cried out, no longer able to produce words.  

Instead, the sound of a wild beast roared out from her wide open mouth, and with fury filled wrath she hollered out. 

As she looked up again, she connected with him, the man who had become her only focus. Wordlessly, she continued to glare towards him with darkness, and moreover, a promise of rancorous vengeance.

 She attempted to say his name once more, hisses and growls being released instead like the snarls of a muzzled beast. 

She felt aching abomination towards him, one she didn’t hide as her now disgustingly animalistic golden orbs showed him beast-like bloodshed. 

He eyed her with an impassive glance, catching a glimpse of what lay far further than the spite. 

He caught sight of the heartbreak at his deception, because as enraged as the creature before him was, the eyes of it were flooded with much more emotions that treaded on the grounds of suffrage and woe. 

Her eyes were glued to him, looking at nothing more than the sole lieutenant until her vision blurred. 

Unwillingly, she drew the pained, golden gems up, setting them upon the barely recognizable crescent moon, its illumination blinding her before her world turned completely black.

 And as her eyes rolled to the back of her head into darkness, she lost more than just her consciousness and will. 

With a final heave, she was left motionless, the hollowfication process one she was unable to endure. And while of course, it had been the intention, he couldn’t help but be sorrow-filled.

Scattered at her sides were her friends, other victims of the cold-hearted betrayal in which had been carried on by none other than one of their own. 

His heart felt no stir at gazing at them because they hadn't meant anything to him. 

‘ But (f/n)...’ 

Aizen took a final glance back at her, letting his dark chocolate eyes stare over at her for a few prolonged seconds before turning away, by then having swallowed up far more than he could take.

His hand stayed tightly balled at his side and right at the center of the sweaty palm, pressing into the moistened flesh, was a small trinket. 

Smeared in blood and faulty with missing gems, it was all he had left of her. 

It was all he could carry with him now, her last memento.

He called it a reward, a token for his achievement when the young silver-haired fox asked him with curiosity. But of course, he’d lied. He did what he did best and hid his true heart. 

Because it hadn't been some reward he took with himself.

He knew very well it wasn’t, and Kyougka Suigetesu was the only other soul that knew his truth. 

At his cool reply to the younger apprentice, she had only sighed, a soft blue breath drawn from her as she could feel the aftermath of her master’s actions. 

When her world began to fill with cold rain, she smiled softly, her two eyes slowly closing as she waited out the downpour. 

The spirit had no say, she knew there was nothing to be done any longer. 

She knew her master was a man who had already contemplated enough, and by then, his final decision irreversible. 

‘I have no choice but to wait this rain out,’ She started, her head inclining back to gaze up at the night sky that surrounded her, the same crescent moon of that night being present for years to come. 

‘You may tell all the lies you wish to master,’ She said reaching out her elegant hand up to the illumination,  ‘but the rain is present, and in my chest, I can feel your heartache,’  She thought to herself, a stray tear falling down her pale cheek. 

‘My world is nothing more than your hidden heart,’ She mused as she stared down at the pin in her hand, identical to the one he kept close to himself. 

(f/n) (l/n), the third seat of the fifth squadron never gazed upon the night sky again, leaving her last moment of existence being filled with treachery, it being a moment filled with unmeasurable sorrow and loss. 

She was just another one of his victims, one of his small stepping stones needed to skip over. But unlike every other subject he had used, some of which he didn’t bother to remember names of, Aizen Sosuke never forgot her.

Not her name, or her fragrance, and especially not the small shared moments between them, the same ones he claimed to have never cared for. 

And among that, he couldn't bring himself to forget her final breaths, those few moments when their eyes connected and he saw true heartbreak, a result of what he had done to her.

And he wondered about so many things, such as the possibility that perhaps she came to love him. 

He wondered if perhaps she had begun to see him as anything other than a subordinate or a friend.

Had she ever thought of him in that way?

Had the idea ever crossed her before?

Because he had thought of it too many times. Every time she came too close, he wondered just what would happen if he just took her hand in his. 

Whenever the colder season came, he wondered how her lips would feel pressed against his, even if they were chapped, even if she tried her best to hide them when he stared too much at them.

 He knew she had been embarrassed, thinking he was judging their appearance, but he had only been musing on testing them out, comparing them to the usual softness that they displayed over the rest of the year.

He’d wanted to be the one to know what they felt like during every season that passed.

He had loved her, far more than he would have ever cared to admit. And in all the years that passed, he had yet to let her finally lay at rest. 

The foolish part of him which was still in love with the dead woman held onto her memory.  

 The small trinket in his hold was evidence of his lack of will, of his forsaken love.

- And he wasn’t the only one to keep her memory alive.

Shinji Hirako never let her go either. 

He hadn’t thought of ever doing so, because to him,  the young woman from all those years ago hadn’t been a burden in his path. And it wasn’t to say that she had been just a subordinate of him as well, because she was much more than that. Slowly but surely, she had wedged herself into not just his personal affairs, but his life as well, digging deep until she reached his heart, becoming someone he came to love wholeheartedly. 

Love that was unconditional...Love that wasn’t littered with lies and betrayal, but mutual understanding and true wellness.

Needless to say, she had never been expendable to him, and if anything, became even more important after her death. Because after all the bloodshed and suffrage, she had become another reason to fight, another reason for revenge.

He felt the same shared spite the Visored did when they so much as mentioned the man’s name. 

There was no question about it, and yet, in a sense, Shinji felt that somehow, they just couldn't understand. 

As close as they all were, they just could relate to him and truly grasp at what was harbored in his chest. 

For the former captain, it was different, the effects of the villainous betrayal leaving more than just a bitter taste in his mouth.

So, as he found his moment to stand before the dark-haired, brown-eyed successor of his former squadron, Shinji Hirako felt blinding rage. He felt the same burning fire in his veins he did when he realized they had been short one person upon their awakening. 

He had looked for her, his first breath loud and labored as his eyes trailed all around him with anxiousness. 

He had searched for her, remembering that on that night, she had trailed behind him, unknowingly heading straight forward to her demise. 

 What would have been if he had made her stay put..?

 Would she had still been alive? 

If he’d done his part as her captain, and much more as her friend, would she still be alive?

Was it just by a stroke of bad luck that she had been slain? or had he planned to take her out as well? 

Had Aizen really been such a bastard to have killed the one person who so eagerly opened her arms up for him? 

A whirlwind of questions stormed within him, and he became desperate for answers.

He recalled hearing her voice, the echo of it ringing in his ears being so ghastly, that at times that he felt like he was haunted.

She’d call out the name of the said man, saying it as though it was all she could muster, her voice strangled and weaved with despair and hurt. 

She repeatedly said his name until she had no recognition of her former self.

‘ I can still hear you cry...’ Shinji thought to himself, ‘ And I can still hear you suffer... ’ He continued on, feeling his blood burn and sizzle, because during her time of demise she was crying because of HIM... 

And even afterward it was present.

 Her pain, as well as her tears, were all because of Aizen Sosuke, the traitor who only stared on, unmoved by her suffrage, unperturbed by her flowing tears.

‘No...No, he planned it...He planned it all,’ Shinji corrected himself after once again being before the man, instantly going back to that night as he caught sight of his dark eyes, the two chocolatey hue’s not having changed with time.

And at that moment he could also feel the ghosts of his fallen tears, the ones that had gone loose once he separated himself from the other visored because he was too ashamed to admit he was actually crying...too ashamed to shed tears before anyone. 

That day, when he was able to come to his senses, he let everything fall, deciding to never go back to that pathetic state, deciding he wouldn’t be made a fool again.

He wouldn’t lose anyone else to the man. 

Never again. 

He’d wait for the moment to strike and retaliate. It then became all he could breathe, consuming him, becoming almost all he could think about. 

Even when he smiled... even when he showed his amusement or joy, she was always there in the back of his mind, urging him to settle the score. 

He couldn’t find true happiness knowing she’d been robbed of hers.

And of course, he knew nothing in the world could give them back their former lives. Nothing could reverse time, and moreover, absolutely nothing in the world could bring her back to him. 

No amount of desire he had could fix it all.

They wouldn’t go back to their shared nights down at the bar, back when they’d get so drunk they’d sing together, unmelodic sounds and hollers making everyone else’s ears bleed.  

He wouldn’t be able to peek at her as she draped a small blanket over him where he sat on his office chair, the sweet woman thinking he was just too tired to make it home.

It always made him smile.

And as much as he hated him, Shinji wouldn’t get back those nights shared with his former lieutenant either, back when the three would spend all-nighters. He’d especially miss when Aizen would say something under his breath, because it was certain it’d rouse a laugh out of his third seat, a laugh that would make both men crack a smile. 

Even if it was at his expense, Shinji wouldn’t ever silence them, because he loved the sound of laughter they’d produce. 

‘ They felt genuine....’ Shinji thought to himself as he thought of those short instances his eyes fell on his lieutenant, more specifically, his smile. 

Aizen’s smile when he looked on at (f/n) felt genuine. 

Hirako could swear upon it, that each and every uplift of the corners of his mouth were were true.

‘So then why did you murder her?!’ He continued on, biting his tongue, withholding the outburst. ‘Why the hell did they feel real?...’ He asked himself. 

‘ Why did they feel real?!’ 

‘Why did I give you a second of doubt!’

Sakanade was in his hold, yet to be released, the power it held never having been a trick he revealed to the man before him, and fortunately for him,  it was all to his own favor. 

Hirako’s taupe-colored eyes sharply glared at the man at the other end of his blade as he held it within his steady hand.

Forcing a large toothy grin at the brunette, he lifted his chin up, feigning all the joy in the world, because he wouldn’t dare let the traitor see his pain. He wouldn’t allow Sosuke Aizen yet another form of victory, no matter how small it was.

‘ (f/n),’ Shinji thought to himself, for a moment the memory of her making him feel pain within his chest, traces of former happiness there as well, making it bittersweet.

‘ I know you won’t be able to come back.’ he told her, knowing she wouldn’t respond back to him. ‘... And I know I’ve been holding onto you far too long as well.’ he continued on. ‘ But I promise that after today, I’ll let you rest.’ he added.

 ‘ I swear to you... Even If it’s the last thing I do...I’ll make this bastard pay for what he did to us... for what he did to you...’  He continued on.

He’d be able to give her rest. In his own way, Shinji Hirako would give the woman peace. 

Because he embraced the love he had for her, never once insinuating otherwise, not during her life, or even after death, eventually coming to believe she was what would fuel him to victory.  

Meanwhile, the other man discarded and cursed the affection. Because Sosuke Aizen believed her to be his demise, something he should get rid of in order to succeed.

In memory of her, the visored swung his blade, his sharpened eyes never leaving his former lieutenant. 

[shinobirain24]

Water and Ice- Chapter 9: Visions

Author's note: Warning, rated T for fanservice. Apologies to any of the viewers.

The Visions

Neptune has once again have his eyes closed for another slumber. Where he have seen his brother leading him to the falls. Jupiter keeps walking through the caves, where the falls are being held. Much to his younger brother's dismay for him to cover himself with his jacket.

He then pointed to the pond, where it lifts by the sunlight. Then a shining object is beaming underneath the water. It gets brighter for every second. Then the vision got white. Blinding the brothers.

Neptune woke up from the dream again. He was seen sleeping on the floor while Weiss is on his bed. Same old strategy about having guests. Neptune rubbed his head in tiresome.

It's that dream again. I cannot believe Jupiter is actually talking to me. Or is he really a ghost? He then looks at Weiss, who is sleeping soundly. Holding onto a pillow and snuggled it. He couldn't help but smile as he watches her. Turning to her head to where he was facing.

She seems to be having a sweet dream. She really is a snow angel when she sleeps. He thought.

Weiss is dreaming about a man with blue hair like Neptune's, but this time, it's not him. But rather a man with scaled armor that resembles fish fins, holding a trident on his back. As if Weiss becomes the eyes of an unknown woman, following him into the night. The man offers her a hand. "Follow me, Avalora. I'll show you around." The woman, now named, Avalora took his hand and entered a temple.

It turns out to be the Ocean Temple, where it was well built during the Great War. Like the dream is taking her back in time. They were in Poseidon Island. It was all too quiet. No one around to guard the place. The aisle has streams between the narrow floors, clean water with falls from each side fillers.

It took a lot of steps to climb the stairs after walking through the maze. But Avalora is too interested to give up the sightseeing. They reached the inner chamber to see a stoned table with a panel full of four gemstones; white, green, yellow and red. The four colors of seasons.

"These are the moon stones of the four seasons. Entrusted by the maidens to keep the oceans at balance. They are said to be the pieces of the shattered moon. Fallen from the skies." The man explained.

"They look so beautiful in person. I thought they were a myth." Avalora was in awe to see the brilliance of the gems. Glowing at the light of the moon. The source of the tides rising. "With the moon stones, it can empower anyone with semblance. You can find them anywhere for every meteor shower." Said the man.

"Is that so?" She asked.

"Of course." He nods. "However, these moonstones are the source of our tides to be in balance. They must never be removed." He explained the cost of the removal of the moon stones in the temple. "There's a reason we created this maze in the first place. To keep our enemies from breaking in. If these stones are removed, then the whole island will be flooded. On top of it, not only the island will be flooded, but the entire world of Remnant with a series of storms. There's a reason why we do not trust the kingdoms in Vale, Vacuo, Atlas, or Mistral. Because then there's a possibility that they can send enemy spies to steal the stones. Chances are that without the stones, our bodies will be reduced into water for a century after." Explained the man. He then turned to Avalora. "Avalora, even as an heiress and warrior to the throne of Atlas, there's a reason for why I trust you with this secret."

"Why is that, Cascade?" She asked again after the man, now called Cascade, affectionately touched her cheek. As Avalora gently places her hand over his.

"Because I owe it all to you, for many years we have grew to distrust outsiders. But you, after you saved my life. You are the first person I can ever cherish for the rest of my life. All I wanted to do now is to find peace between our lands. And I would die for your life to be preserved. However, no one must find out. I cannot put you at risk." He knelt down while he held her hand. "Your highness." She smiles in delight to the man who stole her heart. She knelt down in the same position and lifts his chin to gain the eye position.

"Stand up. There's no need for you to bow. Not this time. If there's anything I can wish for, is that there's no such thing as war, or monarchy." She said softly. They held each other looking into each other's eyes. Avalora then rests her head on his armored chest. Cascade then caresses her hair. "Only freedom." The eyes that are blue as the ocean that captivated her for the rest of her life. But eventually, would led to their impending doom. "That freedom we will fight for, so that no one can separate us." She leaned up and pressed her lips against his.

Weiss just woke up stirring he eyes. She rose from the bed to find Neptune already gone from his bedroom. That dream however, left her pondering about the meaning of the visions. The moon stones, the temple. Curse of the seas. In spite of it all, it was still beautiful. "What a strange dream. I must be very tired from last night." She yawned.

The moon stones, the Ocean Temple. They were there during the time of the Great War. What does this mean? She thought. She then got up from the bed and get dressed to make the next move. Sheathing her rapier to her belt full of dusts. She went downstairs to greet the Vasilias family. Only to find that Saturn and Lydia have already left home before they woke up. The only person she found in the kitchen is Neptune. Writing on a blank piece of paper. "Morning, Neptune. What are you doing?"

"Leaving my parents a note. We can't stay here for long. They'll get into trouble with the Mistral authorities. Hopefully this note will be a mislead, in case your sister tries to look further." He replies.

"Are you sure about this? It must be hard for you to leave them." Weiss points out.

"I have to, what else can we do?" Neptune places a note on the coffee table in the living room before leaving the house. Once again, Neptune puts on the hoodie and goggles exiting the house with Weiss.

Saturn and Lydia returned home with groceries. "We're home! Sorry we're late, your father and I have been picking up some new materials for his shop!" Called Lydia. There was no response. Saturn went to the living room to check to see his son is there. But all he found is a note. He then reads it.

Hey Mom and Dad,

I know this is all sudden for you to find me gone. Weiss and I cannot stay for long. I won't let you guys get into a crossfire because of me. Even if I am a criminal in everyone's eyes. To tell you the truth, I left my team to find Jupiter. I'm not giving up the search as everyone else had a long time ago. Can't let them get into the deep end either. I'm not going to give up until I bring my brother back home. I'm sorry that I have to leave, you guys are probably excited that I returned home for the night. Don't worry, I won't get caught. We'll be on the run for a while in Vacuo. But I won't forget you guys. Don't come looking for me, for your sakes. Just wanna let you know that I love you, no matter what. I'm not going to be the same little boy who will be hiding in fear anymore. I'll fight hard to be the huntsmen I wanted to be since I was 4.

-Your son,

Neptune.

Saturn then looks away and head to his wife to tell her about the note he left. "Lydia?!" He called. Walking to the kitchen to show her the note. When he did, her eyes shimmered and she fainted as if it's the end of the world. Losing one child is bad enough, but losing another is one way for her to go catatonic. Saturn catches her before she hits the floor. She was hoping that it was all just a dream.

Later, Neptune and Weiss entered the cave behind the falls. After walking on stones that serves as a path. From what the visions Jupiter have supposedly given him, it must be in the pond. Weiss looked around in amazement of the biome. Water drops are falling from one bedrock to another. Neptune is still disturbed by the mixture of hydrogen and oxygen. "There, that's what I saw while I was asleep. Or rather what Jupiter is showing me." Neptune said pointing to the water pit. "So this is where the object is hidden." Weiss adds. She then turns to him where he was shaking, looking at the water.

"I think the best idea was to swim there. To get it." Neptune said, while still frozen in fear. His hand is pulling up his shirt, the object is too tempting for him to refrain from swimming. His eyes squinted as it went blurry. "I can't." He said.

"You don't have to do it. I'll go." Weiss insisted, making Neptune relax that he didn't have to go. "Look away." Weiss told him and turn before looking behind to see him still looking. "You heard me, look away." She warns while blushing. Neptune immediately turns away and covers his eyes. He could hear her stripping off her clothes. Then there was splashing. "What's this about? Huh?" He said, but no reply.

He uncovered his eyes. Only to find Weiss swimming into the pit with her bra and underwear. As if it were a bathing suit, with her clothes lying on the rock. It's amazing how she was able to dive under. Like some kind of Olympic athlete. The deeper she gets to the grounds, the brighter the object glows. It was between three boulders. Despite coming from the worse background of childhood, she was taught by one of the best tutors in Atlas. Swimming is a useful skill for survival to be a huntsman or a huntress. The ex-heiress then summoned her glyphs to lift off the boulders from the object. To her surprise, it's a green moonstone. The same one that she saw in her dreams.

Weiss obtains the gemstone and resurfaces back up. Breathing after holding her breathe for the stone. "Got it." She panted, turning to Neptune. "I thought I told you to look away!" Her face turned red when she realized that he's just opened his eyes. But then he noticed something that is scaring him. "Dah! Sorry, I was just getting worried!" He defended. He covered his eyes again, while still conversing with her. "Anyway, what is it?" He asked. She swam back to shore and puts her clothes back on. Before showing Neptune the moon stone.

"Check this out. What you saw is a moon stone." Weiss replies. Neptune looks at her palm holding the gemstone. "Whoa, looks amazing." He awed. "So you knew about these things."

"You're not the only one who dreamt this up. These things must be very important. It has some connection to Poseidon Island. From what I heard about the stones is that it empowers aura. Without the need of dusts." Weiss explained. "And they say they're impossible to find, it can connect to those born in the seasons. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. This is a spring moon stone."

"Whoa, really. So you have that vision?"

"Well, that's different." This got Neptune to question to the point of visionary conversations that anyone with aura can have. "This got me thinking, do you think it is possible to communicate with someone through your sleep?" This got Weiss confused, as if he was having a fever. Or he's been haunted by memories that makes him think it is impossible to get over. "Okay, never heard of that before. Why are you asking me this? Not that I am ashamed to answer. But that's new."

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think I was talking to Jupiter two nights ago, in my dreams." Weiss then blinked for what he just said. "He was the one who led me there. Like we are now. Come to think of it, it's like he's speaking directly towards me. As if he faking his death a long time ago." He theorizes. This got Weiss intrigued with the theory, that his brother is alive after all and thinks he decided to lay low for years. "Now that you mentioned it, it looks like he knew something that we don't. And decides to lay low for a while because nobody would believe him or his team?" Weiss tries to connect the dots to see whether or not that Team ZRVT are alive.

"In any case, maybe we go to Vale. I have to check on Ceres."

"You mean your sister?"

"Yeah. I just need to make sure she's okay. I was thinking, how're you such a good swimmer?" Asked Neptune.

"Sorry to say this. I once have a tutor, but that was before Winter replaced him as my teacher." Weiss replied. "If you want, I can teach you." She offers, knowing he can't swim due to his aquaphobia. The least she can try now is to find the good time to motivate him to overcome it. Neptune thought about it, and nods. "The more you talk about it, the more your sister sounds like a great teacher. Even if she was chasing the wrong guy." Neptune points out. Making Weiss blush.

"Thank you. Let's just hope that Winter doesn't go to far looking for us." Weiss replied. Walking out of the falls for their next stop in Vale.

[mrsalwayswrite]

The Difference Between Champagne and Rum Part 3 (Alfie Solomons x OFC)

Huge shout-out to @evelynshelby​ for being my beta because writing smut scares me (oops, spoiler) and helping with picking the images. You’re amazing, my dear! 

Warnings: Swearing, racial slurs and sexual content (nothing too graphic, sorry)

Words: 9k

Here’s the other parts if you need to catch up: Part 1 / Part 2

Also, in canon, Alfie is about 26 during the start of WWI and so is in his thirties during Peaky Blinders. In this series, he is about 20 when WWI starts. Not sure if anyone would care or notice this, figured I would point it out. :)

The Difference Between Champagne and Rum

Part 3 - To Behold a Future Forgotten

-1914-

It was a good day. No one had managed to fuck it up yet. An extra wad of notes bounced along with each step in his pocket. He would have whistled a tune but the sound would summon the dogs in all of London and probably some coppers thinking an alarm was being raised. So he restrained himself to a faint humming as he walked down the street. He did not smile though. Alfie Solomons never smiled…at least in public. He rolled the wad of notes in his pocket, overly pleased. Another Jewish store had asked for protection from Alfie and his lads after getting their windows busted out by the wop lads. It was a shame really, for Alfie liked the grocery and his family. The old man always “snuck” a piece of candy to any children who came through his store door. Had been doing it for years and Alfie fondly remembered going, as a child, in hopes of getting a sweet treat.  But another place willing to pay him to keep the wops away and a legitimate reason to get revenge on those Italian cocksuckers for busting up a place under his protection…it was enough to make him almost smile in public. Almost.

It also felt good being his own boss. No one telling him what to do or where to go. Shame really what happened to the last man he called ‘boss’. The man made some poor choices and not long after his body was retrieved from the river. Real fuckin’ shame. Alfie and his lads made sure to pick up the pieces left behind before someone else could rise up and try to take charge of Camden. No, this was Alfie’s neighborhood. 

Since it was such a fine autumn day and Alfie was in a good mood, he decided to share the joy with the one woman who meant the world to him. That was how he found himself walking down this particular posh street in London. His mother claimed this was the best bakery in all of England. When his father was alive, he occasionally would surprise his mother with her favorite scone from there. The simple gesture would always bring an extra brilliant smile to his mother’s face, and probably a good romp in the sheets for his father. Since his father’s death, money had been too tight to spend on little splurges like that. Now, Alfie had some extra change in his pocket…and he enjoyed seeing his mother smile for something good he did instead of chastise him for the wrong. Plus maybe this would distract her from harping on him to find a nice Jewish girl and think about settling down. Something Alfie did not have time for. Nor could he help comparing every girl his mother paraded in front of him to a pair of gemstone eyes and mischievous smile. Alfie pushed that thought away. No use dwelling on that, it had been two years and he had a feeling the only time he would ever see her now would be in his dreams.

***

The bakery was large with a tea room attached, full of patrons dressed in nice day dresses and clean cut suits. The walls were a light wood with dark paneling and gold trim, a distinct coloring that made the place feel bright and welcoming. The large windows also added to the overall feeling of warmth. Counters practically lined the main bakery, covered in different pastries, delicacies, and confectionaries. The aroma of warm bread, sugar and black tea was enough to make Alfie’s mouth start to water. He had only come a few times before with his father when he was young but the place seemed just as grand as it did then.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a pair of women observing him warily from alongside the counter; like they were concerned he would steal their purses and take off running right there. He stood out from the other patrons in his white shirt, black trousers and black hat. Although he did not scream ‘poor’ like some in his neighborhood, his attire certainly stated he was not used to the finery the rest of the patrons lived in. With a quick curse muttered under his breath about toffs, he approached one of the many counters, eyeing the pastries to find what he came looking for. He could see one of the shop girls in uniform dawdling, pretending to fiddle with something instead of approaching him. Casually, he placed his elbow on the counter and leaned against it. He planned on making himself comfortable if they were going to make him wait. He had no plans on leaving yet. They did not know him, but he planned on teaching them how stubborn he could be.

A rambunctious round of laughter drew his gaze to the seated patrons on the other side of the bakery, in the tea room. A group of three older women sat together, cackling about something, most likely gossip, looking like they did not have a care in the world. Which they probably did not. Their rich husbands would not care what their wives did as long as dinner was ready with a cigar and whiskey after to end the day.

He rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers on the pristine glass display case impatiently. He was ready to leave but he refused to leave empty handed. The sounds of other exchanges and conversations swirled around him, business commencing. Yet he stood alone and ignored, like a solitary, forgotten island. His mind wandered to the new protection deal made today. To cover that grocery he would need at least another three good lads. He needed to talk to Ishmael and see if he knew anyone, and not some new lad just off his mum’s tit. Too many of those around already. He needed men to keep the wops at bay. Yeah, Ishmael should know of a few. If not, perhaps his zayde would. The old man seemed to know everyone in London. He only had a month left to get things sorted and prepared. Only a month…

“How can I help you, sir?”

Alfie blinked, realizing a middle-aged man stood on the other side of the counter staring at him expectantly. “Ah, yeah…them scones there…yeah, two of ‘em.”

“Of course. Will there be anything else today?”

“No, that s’it.” He watched the man carefully place the two scones indicated in a paper bag to go. “How much?”

The man placed the bag on the counter. “Your expenses have been covered.”

He blinked slowly. “What?”

“I said, your expenses have been…”

“Yeah, yeah, I fuckin’ got that. What I wanna know is how. I don’t need no charty or nothin’. I got me money ‘ere.” Alfie pulled out the wad of notes, ready to pay more than double just to teach these people not everyone wanted their hand-outs.

“I understand, sir. One of the patrons here told me to charge her for whatever you want. She was most adamant… said you were an old friend.”

“Who?”

“The young lady in the burgundy dress, blonde hair by the window. Please don’t start…”

Alfie ignored the shopkeeper as he turned around, eyes narrowing as he searched for this ‘old friend’. Looking towards the window, he saw her sitting at a table with five other women of varying ages but obvious wealth. His heart fluttered uncontrollably, his breathing momentarily ceased as their eyes met. With a smirk, she scooted her chair back and got up, moving through the labyrinth of tables and patrons towards him. She was still so beautiful. Her burgundy dress clung tightly to her chest and draped softly downward to swish with each movement, the hem just below her knees. The slight V-neck was accentuated with the ivory flounce and draped faux collar tie. An ivory banded drop waist finished off the simple yet polished day dress. As she sashed closer, a small smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, he could not help but admire how she filled out her feminine form. He would still label her as slender and graceful but there were more defined curves than the prior times they had met. Questions began to formulate the closer she approached. Namely where had she been these past two years. Damn propriety and social courtesy, she was not getting out of his sights until his questions were answered. Fucking hell though, it was downright sinful how gorgeous she looked.

“Good afternoon, is everything alright? You are not giving the lovely Mr. Miller here a hard time are you, Alfie?” She placed her hand on Alfie’s shoulder before looking at the shopkeeper behind the counter, who stood watching the two carefully. “You will have to excuse him, Mr. Miller. My friend can be rough around the edges, he is a good man though. One day he will rule London, you can place a bet on that.”

“Of course, Miss. If you will excuse me. Let me know if there is anything else you are in need of.” He dipped his head before slipping away to help another customer waiting at the counter further down.

“Hello, Alfie.”

“’ello, Miss Sarah.”

She rolled her eyes, smile still on her lips. “You do not get to call me that. To you, I am just Sarah. So what are you doing here?” She snatched up the paper bag and peeked inside. “Ooo…those are delicious. Special night for you and a lady friend?”

He snorted, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, these for me mum.”

Her eyes softened and she carefully put the bag back on the counter. “She will love them. How are you? I do not see any blood on your knuckles so that seems like a good start.”

“Yeah, yeah. No one insulted me yet. Still enough hours today, that could change. What you doin’ here?”

She sighed, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Believe me, I am not here by choice. Those ladies could even make a corpse cry with how boring and dull their conversation is. I was contemplating either stabbing myself or someone else to escape.”

“Tis a shame to go to that extreme, yeah? That s’ladies bathrooms are for, right? Go disappear for a while. Say you got sick or somethin’.”

“Did that last week. I need a new strategy.” She paused, toying with the small, gold pendant necklace she wore. “You look well, Alfie.”

A twinkle in his eye, he reached forward and took her hand. What did he have to lose at this point? He never thought he would see her again yet here she stood before him, looking like a vision in the flesh. With a wink, he laid a kiss on the back of her hand. “You s’beautiful as ever, Sarah…or should I call you Miss Byron?”

She raised a single eyebrow yet did not snatch her hand out of his grasp.

“Did some investigatin’ of me own, yeah. Torment to not know your name. Asked a few questions, knocked a few heads, even had to fuckin’ walk into a church…” he pretended to shudder violently making her smile, “…not easy lemme say but I’m a determined bastard when I want, right. Eventually I learn that you s’only daughter of Lord Byron, member of Parliament and chief importer of tea from fuck knows where all but loads places, yeah. Family business and all that. Fuckin’ rich don’t even describe him none.”

“So you learned my secret…and what do you think of this posh girl now?”

“Might make kidnappin’ you a bit harder coz your dad, right, could pay every copper and scum to find you…so I gotta plan that out well.” He paused at her chuckle, entwining their fingers. “You still me angel though. That won’t change none.”

“Alfie…I…” She bit her lower, plump lip as she quickly cast her gaze over to the women she had been sitting with. “I need to get back.” Hesitantly she released his hand. “Can I see you soon? I’ll be busy for a bit but after…can we meet?”

“Ah, s’problem there. I leave next month…for France…for the war.”

Her eyes widened and mouth dropped open slightly. It was a truth he tried not to think about too often himself. War. Some of his mates cheered and were excited to leave, to come back as men with glory and honor. Something churned in Alfie’s gut about the ordeal. He could not help but wonder how many of them would come back alive, himself included.

“Me brother signed up without sayin’ nothin’. Fuckin’ idiot. So I gotta go watch his back, make sure he s’alright, for me mum’s sake.”

“Oh, Alfie…” She moved forward, one of her hands cupped his cheek. He could not help but lean into her touch. They stared at one another, he could see thoughts racing in her eyes and it was not long before a decision was made. “Wait here.”

Turning abruptly, she walked purposefully over to her table and grabbed her clutch sitting on it. She murmured something which seemed to cause an uproar amongst the women she had been with. One of them even reached over to grab Sarah’s wrist but with a sharp remark and a twist, she forced the older woman to let her go. As she walked back towards him, he met the eyes of the women watching, their expressions ranging from horror to disapproval to disgust. Fuck them. Because he could, he tipped his cap at them, a smirk plastered on his face. One of the women drew the sign of the cross over her chest.

Sarah waved down one of the shop girls as she returned to Alfie’s side, quickly ordering some pastries in a sharp tone that had the girl obeying rapidly.

“This is a dishonor! Do not think we will forget this, Sarah Byron! Disgraceful child! Wait until your father hears about this!” One of the women loudly called over, steam practically pouring out of her ears.

Alfie turned his body to fully face the old hag, and partially block her view of Sarah. He did not know what was going on but that did not mean he would not defend her. Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at the woman until she sat down in a huff, refusing to make eye contact with him. He noted her face, a habit he formed when someone pissed him off.

Soon as the shop girl finished Sarah’s order, she snatched the bag and headed straight for the door, brushing past a middle-aged couple stepping in. Without delay, Alfie grabbed his own scones and followed after her. She stopped just beside the door, eyes closed, her hands gripped the bag and her clutch enough to turn her knuckles white. After a long moment, she opened those emerald eyes and smiled at him, all previous tension gone.

“Where should we go? Where were you heading to after this?”

He watched her, brows furrowed slightly wondering if she was truly fine or putting on a mask. “Ah, me flat. Give these to me mum and talk to Ishmael.”

“Can I come?”

“Really? S’nothin’ special.”

“Do I look like someone who cares. Do not answer that. I just…” She looked across the street for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “I want to hear what you have been up to. With the war…let’s just get away. Pretend the world does not exist for a few hours. Be whoever we want to be.”

“S’alright, love, alright. Lemme warn you, yeah, it’s a long walk from here.” He did not mind for himself but with those kitten heels she had on, he was more concerned for her. Plus the streets of Camden were not known for their cleanliness.

Suddenly she placed her hands on her hips, gazing up and down the street. Alfie could not help himself as he subtly eyed those hips of hers she so kindly highlighted with her hands on them.

“Let’s go.” Slipping her arm through his, she started striding further up the street. He chocked down a laugh as he was being man-handled by her, it felt reminiscent of when his mum would drag him on errands with her when he was a young lad. They approached a carriage, the driver smoking a cigarette while the brown gelding pawed at the cobblestones.

“Are you waiting on someone?” Sarah asked.

“No, Miss.”

“Good. Take us to Camden Town.” As if this was a normal occurrence, she released Alfie and gracefully climbed up into the carriage. She looked like a princess, head held high, above those lower than her here in the streets of London. Alfie remained frozen to the ground, not because he was afraid. Never had he been on a horse-drawn carriage, his family certainly could never afford that. No, this was a glimpse into her life. How easily she commanded the driver and the casual way she sat herself upon the luxury this was. This was a life she had been born into. So vastly different than his own.

Looking down at him, her emerald eyes narrowed. “Alfie Solomons, you get that ass of yours up here before I come down and beat it. I would hate to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

That earned a laugh and head shake from him. In the moment he did not care that he was in public. Sarah, his angel, always kept him on his toes…and he loved it. “Yes, me lady.”

Quickly he climbed up and the driver took off. Never once did the driver stare at the two young people nor seem bothered by their obvious class difference. He kept his head straight forward, clucking his tongue at the horse occasionally, cigarette hanging perched between his lips. The carriage seat was wide enough for two people to sit comfortably next to one another but for Alfie and Sarah, this left several inches between them. Something Alfie was not a fan of.

Without a thought, he swung his arm over and behind her, not even bothering to hide his actions. Still looking straight ahead, she slid over slightly so their shoulders were touching. He could see the corners of her lips slanted upward, trying to hide the smile that wanted to emerge. That intoxicating scent of hers filled his nose. Anytime over the past two years that he smelled lavender, he could not help but think of her. An annoyance on occasion. Yet it was never quite right to match what came off her skin.

“So who ‘em ladies you with? Seemed real proper and boring.”

“Some family friends and acquittances. I was supposed to make an excellent impression as the daughter of Lord Byron and be the epitome of a sophisticated, educated young lady…or so my father said.”

“Yeah? Hate to say but I fuckin’ doubt that ‘appened. One of ‘em looked ready to faint, right, you walkin’ off with me gutter self.”

As she chuckled he could feel her fully relax against him. He tightened his arm around her, encouraging her closer to him.

“I would much rather waste away an afternoon with you then spend another minute with them.” She elbowed him in the side as he smirked at her. “Shut up! That’s the God’s honest truth. Damn. They are so superficial and boring. We spent the last twenty minutes talking about what type of flowers one of them should use as centerpieces for the charity event she is hosting…and before that! How scandalous dresses are becoming now with young ladies showing their legs! I thought my ears would start bleeding!”

He laughed at her, her nose crinkling in distain for those women’s company. “I’m sure its been torture for you, eh?”

In mock anger, she tried to reach over and smack his chest but his other hand shot out and grabbed it before contact was made. Carefully watching her, he entwined their fingers, never dropping her gaze. Perhaps it was the proximity, her face only inches from his or holding her hand. Perhaps it was being above the rest of London in the carriage that made him feel like a king. Perhaps it was because in a month the likelihood of his death skyrocketed. Whatever is was, he asked the question that had been burning unanswered in his soul for the past two years.

“What ‘appened, love? Where you disappear to?”

She sighed, her tone matching his in softness. “America. My father sent my mother and me there to visit some family and to try and strengthen business connections.” She squeezed his hand in apology. “There was no forewarning. Maybe for my mum but he told me one morning that my mum and I were leaving the next day.”

“Why are you back?”

“It was time.” She replied evasively.

There was more to that reason, he could feel it and it itched at him but he could tell it was not something she wanted to talk about. They sat in silence for a minute, both absorbed in their own thoughts before Alfie broke it with a cheeky grin. “How often did you run away from coppers there? Can’t see you stayin’ outta trouble, yeah, even across the pond. Trouble just follows you, must be your middle name, innit? Miss Sarah Trouble Byron…mmm, sounds ‘bout fuckin’ right.”

“I beg to differ, I am a proper lady of class and sophistication.” She teased right back. “I think it is you who has corrupted my morals, a negative influence, tainting my lily white reputation.”

“Yeah, love, yeah, and it wasn’t you who broke me outta handcuffs and ran off with me that first time we met. Actually, that bit would have been helpful last year when I was in a spot of trouble.” He leaned close, bringing his mouth right to her ear. “And in the theatre, I sure as hell ain’t done that before you but believe me, I still think about it and have to use my hand to…relieve the tension.”

Her free hand trailed up his thigh as she turned her head so they were nose to nose. “Poor Alfie, must be quite the struggle. I confess, I do miss the taste of your...lips.”

“Oh yeah? Been thinkin’ ‘bout me too, eh?”

She bit her lip, eyes still staring into his and it took everything in him to not crash his lips against hers in a frenzy. Desire and temptation swelled around them, its own type of music making their hearts beat in unison. Opening her mouth to answer, she closed the gap, their lips barely touching.

“Miss! We reached Camden. Where to now?”

The tension eased slightly between them as the driver’s voice disrupted the music.

“Where to, Alfie?” She whispered, not having drawn away.

He cleared his throat, thoughts jumbled as he called out to the driver. “Next street over.”

The two stayed a lips distance apart, unable to tear themselves away but also soaking in the elation of being so close again after so long.

“And if I said I think about you every night…as I touch myself?” Her lips ghosted over his to place the lightest kiss on his cheek before she pulled back, a mischievous smile on her lips.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. I’m right sure you like torturin’ me, yeah.”

“Mr. Solomons, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Temptress.”

“Oh no, that is only after dark. Now I am your innocent angel.” She winked, dragging her hand back down his thigh.

“Fuck.” He dropped his head on her shoulder. “Just wait till I get you alone, yeah. We’ll see which comes out, the temptress or the angel.”

The carriage lurched to a halt. Alfie slowly got out, a certain body part at an uncomfortable half-mast. Turning to help Sarah, he saw her paying the driver before turning towards him.

As he opened his mouth to protest, she silenced him with a pointed look. Annoyed and amused he reached out a hand and helped her out. He snagged their bags before looking to the driver once again. The man gave him a nod and wink before facing forward and flicking the reins. Maybe him and Sarah had not been as indiscrete as he thought.

“C’mon.” He tucked her arm through his as he led them down his streets. Sure, he could have let the carriage bring them closer to his flat but he wanted to minimize the attention the two of them received and a carriage would have done the opposite in this part of town.

“How far away is your flat?”

“Not far, few blocks away. Regrettin’ comin’ with me?”

“Never. I am just hoping it does not rain.”

He glanced up, having noted the darkening sky earlier and the saturation in the air. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hurried their steps, not wanting to get caught in the rain himself.

Unfortunately fate had other plans.

A drizzle caught them two blocks away so when they finally made it to Alfie’s complex, they were both wet but thankfully not soaked through. Their damp clothes clung to their bodies like a second skin but instead of being aggravated, they were both smiling at one another. He led her up the stairs to the second floor of the expansive brick building. Luckily his flat was one of the end units so he did not have to parade her past the next twelve flats so everyone could stare and ogle at her.

Quickly he unlocked the flat and pulled her in, making sure to lock it behind them. He set the bags of treats on the small kitchen counter and moved to the furnace, tossing some coal in to warm the drafty place up. The warmth felt good on his hands and face, biting back the chill seeping into his skin.

Turning around he watched Sarah slowly make her way down the short hallway towards the large room that held the kitchen and living space. Her eyes scanned the flat yet he could not tell from her expression what she thought of it. The flat was simple and small, truly nothing special. The walls were bare, showcasing the fading paint and few spots of exposed brick. Barely any furniture to speak of, besides the kitchen table and few chairs. On the opposite side of the open room was the doors to the bathroom and bedroom, both small room in their own right. He did not need much, this place was just for him to crash and get away from others if need be. If anyone ever came over it was his mum, Ishmael or occasionally his zayde to chat. Hosting was not something he enjoyed.

“It ain’t much buts it’s a place to lay me head down without being bothered.”

She nodded as she placed her clutch on the small kitchen table. Finally her eyes settled on him. “Do you have something I could wear? At least until my dress dries…unless you suggest an alternative.”

“Right, yeah, wouldn’t want you catch a cold. Likely be the death of you.” He slowly ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble there, as he blatantly and suggestively dragged his gaze over her body. Rising, he moved closer until he crowed her against the side of the table. “Sure I got a shirt or somethin’ you can wear, though I’ve ‘eard body heat warms you up faster, yeah? I can share mine with you if you’d like.”

“Oh, I am positive it would be quite the sacrifice for you. You deserve a medal for your efforts.” Her hands roamed over his chest until she began unbuttoning his shirt, tantalizingly slow, one at a time while never looking away from his gaze.

He could feel the heat radiating off her body, a warmth he had every intention of dwelling in and letting seep deep into his bones. His hands settled on her hips, thumbs drawing circles over her damp dress. “Mmm…sacrifice. Just helpin’ an old friend out cos I’m such a nice man.”

“A true gentleman.”

“If you say so, love.” Unable to stand it anymore, he pressed his lips to hers. It started off slow and sweet but quickly deepened when she opened her mouth to trace his lips with her tongue. Roughly he picked her up and set her on the table, moving to stand between her legs. Their breathing turned to pants, lips and hands moving over one another’s face and body. Alfie was not a virgin but never had any of the past girls he had been with caused this intense reaction in him. With Sarah, it was as if every cell of his body cried out for more. To know her as only a lover does, to breathe her in and let her scent be the incense around him, to hold her very soul in his hands for surely then he could truly understand her and please her as he desired to. She was his angel and his curse, for none could ever compare to her.

His shirt slipped off just after he pushed her dress up her thighs as far as it would go. He paused, mouth against her throat as her hands tugged his hair. “Love, tell me right now if you wanna stop cos once we get goin’, I ain’t so sure I’ll be able to.”

“Don’t stop, Alfie.”

Her command shot right through to his cock and it took all of his willpower to not just fuck her right there. No, this was his angel and she deserved to be treated like one…mostly. A few naughty, wicked things aside. He pawed at the buttons on the back of her dress while she tugged on his belt and trousers. A frantic need for one another consumed them and clothes could not be shed fast enough.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Alfie paused, unsure if he was hearing things. Who would be knocking on his door right now?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He groaned, cupping one of her breasts and rubbing the hardening nipple.

“Ignore it.” Her hands gripped his ass possessively, drawing him closer, while she sucked on his neck.

“Yes, Miss.” There was no desire to leave this moment. He needed her and to his surprise, she needed him too. How long had he dreamt of this moment? Fantasized about what she would feel like under him? As he tweaked her nipple, she sighed out his name, and with that all blood flow rushed straight to his cock.

A louder, more demanding knocking interrupted once again.

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

“I am not opposed, although you were doing so well keeping the blood off your knuckles.” She teased, leaning back.

“Don’t move, yeah. I’ll get rid of ‘em.” He took two steps back, watching Sarah and absolutely loving how she looked on his table. Hair messed up, dress hitched up and askew, lips swollen and cheeks rosy, she looked like perfection. Maybe after this he needed to go to the synagogue and give a prayer of gratitude. He must be doing someone right for God to bless him like this. First though, he needed to take care of whatever bastard was at his door interrupting his time. Heads would be rolling if it was not some kind of emergency. Yeah, he could feel his temper rising and whoever was on the other side of the door would regret it. He started towards the door, hell bent on making this idiot regret knocking. Last second, he grabbed his shirt off the floor and slipped it on, not buttoning it. He did not plan to keep it on for long.

He opened the door, ready to spew venom on the unsuspecting victim, only for the words to die on his tongue.

“ ‘ello, mum.”

“Alfie, zun!” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her petite frame forcing her to rise on her toes to reach him. “Your laundry is done, yeah.”

“Um, mum, now isn’t a…”

“Shhh…I’ll just drop off quick, yeah, then leave you be.” Maneuvering around him like a slippery eel, she squeezed herself plus the basket on her hip past Alfie and down the short hallway.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Alfie muttered, closing the door and following the only woman he allowed to trample over him. She still did his laundry and fed him frequently so he could not complain too much. His hardened cock did complain though.

Coming around the corner, his mum jabbered away at him, words like unceasing raindrops in a storm. Her graying hair was pulled back and she wore her customary patterned apron over her dress, looking every bit like a housewife coming over for tea and gossip. Honestly, he tuned out half of what she was saying when he noticed Sarah was not sitting on the table anymore. He glanced around and noticed his bedroom door shut. She must of dashed into there when he was at the door. Momentarily resigning himself, he sat down at the table, running his hands over his face. He needed to shave soon, most of the other lads did not shave but he preferred the clean feeling. It made him feel less lower-class, which was irrational.

Just as suddenly as the fountain of words and gossip began from his mum, it ended abruptly. Alfie looked up, confused. His mum froze just next to the sink, staring to the side in the direction of his bedroom. His eyes followed and widened at the sight.

Sarah stood in the threshold of his bedroom, the door open behind her now. What jumped out was she stood barefoot, stockings gone, with his long, black coat covering her and buttoned all the way up. It should not be possible to make an old coat look so enticing. His mind immediately jumped to wondering what she was wearing underneath.  

“Ohhh…” His mum softly exhaled, then spoke as if to herself. “Mrs. Cohen said she’d seen a young lady with you. I didn’t believe her.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Solomons. My name is Sarah. It’s a pleasure to meet you and see the woman responsible for raising such a fine man as Alfie.” Replaced was the teasing, fiendish Sarah he knew; and who stood before and greeted his mum was Sarah Byron, the debutant and socialite. As she moved forward, hand extended to shake his mum’s hand, everything about her screamed poise and intentionality. Alfie was in awe. How easily that mask slipped on so she could become whoever the situation called for.

After shaking the hand of his somewhat stunned mum, Sarah continued talking as if this was not the strangest occurrence, nor had been sighing his name minutes ago while on his table. “I sincerely apologize if I am intruding on something. Alfie was a kind enough to allow me to escape the rain here and allow me to wear his coat to warm up. That little bit was just enough to send a chill to my bones.”

And with that, he could visibly see his mum’s hesitation towards the strange lady in her son’s flat vanish. “Oh! You poor dear, sit down by the furnace, warm up. Has Alfie offered you tea to warm up? Course not. Lemme get some water boiling, yeah. Have that chill gone in no time.” Just as suddenly as she stopped moving, she started tearing around his kitchen. Grabbing the barely-ever-used kettle, then complaining about the dust on it, she started to boil water and searched his mostly empty cupboards for some biscuits to go with the tea. She glanced at the bags on the counter but left them alone to his surprise.

“Tell me, love, how do you know my Alfie?”

“Oh, old friends you could say. He saved me from some lads with ill intentions, so perhaps my protector would be better?”

His mum huffed, shaking her head. “Some of those boys these days, even the men too, don’t have their heads on straight. Tell me about yourself, Sarah, right? Are you from here?”

“I was but I have spent the last two years in America. Only just arrived back last week.”

“America! Hear that, Alfie! World traveler, yeah. What were you doin’ there?”

And so began the most uncomfortable twenty minutes of Alfie’s life, so far. It did not help that his clothes were still damp but he refused to leave his mum and Sarah alone. Who knew the trouble those two could get into together. His mum and Sarah chatted easily on either side of him at the small table. The steam from their tea cups swirled between them creating the illusion of comfortability and ease. On one hand he learned much about Sarah’s time in America and her travels. No, what made the entire situation uncomfortable was as soon as his mum sat down, the temptress appeared to torment him. Sarah rubbed her bare leg against his trousers. He pretended to reach under the table to adjust his trouser leg and grabbed her leg to still her movements. That was his mistake. Her warm, stocking-free skin met his bare hand and his cock hardened immediately. He shifted, keeping his hand under the table, but slowly drew it up over her knee and up her silky thigh. The whole time Sarah acted as if no indiscretions were occurring under the table, answering his mum’s questions easily and sipping on her tea.  

Either his mum paid no mind to how close Alfie ended up scooting his chair to the temptress on his left, or she pretended not to notice. He hoped for the first. The sinful images that played on repeat in his mind were enough to make even a prostitute blush. Rubbing slow, sensual circles with his thumb on her thigh, it took everything to not throw his mum out and have Sarah laid out before him on the table. Somehow Sarah remained poised and graceful as ever, smiling and laughing along with his mum.

Finally, once Alfie was positive his blood could not decide between his brain and his cock, his mum declared that she needed to get back to her flat to start dinner. Alfie sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward. He followed his mum to the door, promising to clean up the teapot and cups and not let them sit around.

His mum cupped his cheek after giving it a quick peck. She spoke quietly in Russian, something she only did if she thought it important enough. “She seems like a good girl, a good friend but remember Alfie…she s’not Jewish, yeah?”

“I know, mum.”

She nodded one last time as if debating his words before she strolled away towards the staircase. He waited until she vanished before closing the door and moving back towards the main area. Coming around the corner, he froze, brain unable to process what his eyes were seeing.

Sarah must have cleared off the table and put everything on the counter, but that only received a split second of Alfie’s attention. No, what held his attention was the angel with gemstone eyes and a mischievous smile slowly unbuttoning his coat, standing in the middle of the room. Her eyes had him pinned, unable to move, beguiled to only ever see her. The last button undone, she lazily allowed the coat to fall from her shoulders and land behind her. Underneath had been hidden a cream colored silk slip with a hint of lace on the hem.

He unconsciously rubbed his mouth and jaw as his eyes soaked in the angelic being before him. Everything about her looked so soft, from her skin to her long blonde hair cascading down her back to her delicate features and to that silky slip that teased him, daring him to explore underneath. It felt almost sacra-religious for his calloused, dirty hands to touch something so pure, so perfect, so lovely. Then both his nightmare and fantasy happened. After easing the straps off her shoulders, the slip dropped down to pool around her bare feet.

“Alfie, come here.” That sweet, soft voice purred and broke whatever spell she had placed on him.

His feet brought him before her in three long strides. The floodgates had been released when she spoke his name. Their mouths met, practically devouring one another, and their hands roamed over their bodies. Somewhere amongst the passion, he could feel her tugging at his shirt. Taking the hint, he quickly ripped his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor as her hands started on his trousers.

“Bedroom. Now.”

He smirked. “Yes, my lady.” Stepping out of his trousers, he picked her up, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist, so their mouths could fuse together once more. Somehow they made it to his small bedroom without causing damage to anything. Not that either would have noticed in the moment. Gently he set her on the bed, the frame creaking slightly betraying its age.

“Alfie...don’t make me wait.”

“Oh I plan on returning the favor…the tease you were under the table. Hell, I couldn’t think straight.” Before she could protest, he knelt down and brought his face to her core. The moans and whines were enough to fuel him to continue. Her hands wrapped in his hair. Soon enough he could feel that she was almost at her peak by her thrashing and moans.

“Please…please, Alfie…sweetheart, I need you.” She begged.

He stood, wiping her nectar from his lips before ripping off his knickers and crawling above her. They were both ready, having waited for this moment, it was so easy to slip inside her heat. A moan escaped from both of their lips, cementing the pleasure of finally completing one another. Strangely enough, for Alfie, it felt like coming home. Every moan and sigh from her as their bodies moved in tandem only made him want to hear more. He would never tire of her and he would always want her.

After both found their release, they lay on the small bed together, chest to chest, post-coital smiles on both of their lips.

“I missed you.” He quietly confessed, carding his fingers through her hair.

“I missed you too. I am so sorry.”

“S’alright. I got this flat though…that summer…in case, well…you came.”

“Oh sweetheart. I would have if I could.” She kissed his lips gently in apology before tracing her finger over his stubbly cheek. “I bet your landlord will be getting complaints from the neighbors with how loud you were.”

“Me?” He scoffed. “I had you screamin’ me name if you remember. No, the neighbors won’t say nothin’, hard to complain ‘bout the landlord to himself.”

“Wait...you own the building?”

“Ah…fuck, well, s’not a big deal. The last landlord was a bastard and raised the prices again, even though he knew it fuckin’ would put most families on the street, right?”

Shifting so she could straddle him, she traced a hand over his chest, playing with his chest hair as a coy smile betrayed her amusement. “So he just handed the place over to you when you complained?”

“Well we may have had a rather…unpleasant discussion on his part…where some new rules were set.” One hand he placed on her thigh and the other he touched the pendant necklace she still wore as he looked at it. It looked like a simple northern star in gold on a thin gold chain. Nothing remarkable but just because she wore it made it special. “He was a fat, ugly bastard with some deep gambling debt. Tried to force me mum to sleep with him or threatened to toss her on the street.”

“I am surprised he is still alive.”

He chuckled darkly. “He ain’t, but not by me hands, right,. Trussed him up like a pig and delivered ‘im to the men he owed. Under new management this place is, yeah.”

“Alfie Solomons…” She batted her eyelashes at him, a teasing smile slipping through. “…the savior of the lowly.”

“Hell no, just don’t like ‘im thinkin’ of touchin’ me mum.” His hands moved to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples. “When you gotta leave, love?”

Leaning forward, she gave him a deep, open-mouth kiss that caused his cock to hardened just from that alone. “Oh I am nowhere done with you yet. We are going to make this a night you never forget and your neighbors to hate us.” Without prompt, she settled on his hardened cock, tossing her head back erotically at the sensation.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. You’ll be the death of me.”

Words vanished as they lost themselves to the pleasure of their bodies once again.

***

Some time later, they both lay on the bed again. A light sheen of sweat still dampening their naked bodies but neither cared.

“I think I need a drink. Do you have anything to offer a girl?”

“Um, yeah, don’t move.” He dragged himself off the bed, not wishing to tear away his gaze from her but his own stomach was beginning to rumble. Still naked, he darted to the kitchen and grabbed the only bottle of alcohol he kept in his flat and the left over pastries that Sarah brought.

Her eyes scanned his body when he returned, slowly licking her lips. “I could get used to a handsome, naked man bringing me food and drink in bed.”

“At your service, Angel.” He winked, settling himself next to her. Both now leaning back against the headboard, unabashed in their nakedness, legs stretched out still tangled in the blankets.

“No champagne?”

“Not here, love. Just this rum. Don’t let me mum know about it, yeah?”

She took the bottle from him, gave it a sniff before sipping straight from the bottle. A slight grimace betrayed her thoughts which had him laughing. “It is not terrible.”

“That stuff s’fuckin’ awful, love. Piss poor shit really. No, they use fuckin’ awful molasses, too cheap to buy better stuff, right? That would help the flavor and color. Cane sugar ain’t bad but the molasses…” His words ended when he took a sip himself from the bottle. He was surprised when he noticed the curious look he was receiving from her. “Wot?”

“How do you know so much about rum making?” She took the bottle back and sipped from it again, this time controlling her facial reaction.

He shrugged. “Talkin’ to the right people, I suppose. Ain’t hard, just gotta use the good quality ingredients and know how to treat it right, mmm, then its temperature and timing, yeah.”

“You should make your own.”

“What?” He laughed, caught off guard by her statement. Never before had he considered anything remotely close to that. “Where? Here? Who gonna buy the shit I make?”

“I bet it would be better than this stuff.”

“Damn right.”

“Just think about it…I can see you running your own distillery. You have the knowledge to do it and you know enough people that could help you out. It could be another way to make money.”

“You know it’s illegal, yeah?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Not the point.” She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a pastry with chocolate drizzle on it. A fond smile on her face, she took a bite and moaned. “Damn, these are good.”

He leaned over and kissed her deeply, letting his tongue rove into her mouth and taste the chocolate lingering. She returned the passionate kiss, bringing a hand up to cup his face. He pulled back first, licking his lips.  “Mmm…those are.”

She laughed, smacking his chest, before finishing off the pastry.

“Why are you really here?”

Now it was her turn to look confused. “What?”

He rubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw, unsure why he was spoiling the tranquil moment they had. Something deep in him needed to know the truth. Not the easy answer she had given his mum. “Why are you back in London? You said something to me mum ‘bout being called back by your father.”

“It is nothing. He figured I had been gone long enough.”

He grabbed her chin, tilting her face towards him when she tried to look away. “Try again, Angel.”

“Alfie, it does not matter.”

“Then tell me.”

She jerked her chin out of his hand, turning to stare straight ahead at the wall opposite them. He noticed her fiddling with the pendant but otherwise remained unmoving. Her face was blank, emotionless but he was beginning to learn her and knew she was thinking hard. He slipped a lock of her hair between his fingers, playing with the end and admiring how soft it was. It was several long minutes before she spoke.

“My father received a marriage proposal for me.”

Alfie tried to keep his thoughts and emotions at bay, not wanting to spook her with how much that angered him.

“A few of those women I was with earlier at the tea room…they are some of his family. I was to make a good impression for marriage. It would be an alliance of sorts really between our families.” She took a long draw from the bottle this time, still staring straight ahead. “He is an…well it does not matter. My job is just to look good on his arm in public and please him in his bed…guess that will not happen now with what his mother was yelling earlier.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

Taking the bottle from her hand, he set it on the floor, eyes never leaving hers. “Fuck ‘em. If they can’t see you for more than that, it ain’t worth it none.” He crawled over her until he hovered above her body, now laid out under him. “Besides, you’re my angel and I’ll bloody well make sure everyone fuckin’ knows it, yeah?”

“How are you going to do that?”  

With a wicked smirk, he leaned forward and sucked hard on one of her nipples while tweaking the other between this fingers. Immediately she arched her back, a moan escaping her. With a loud ‘pop’, he released her nipple to switch sides.  Her hands carded through his hair, pulling him closer, a soft whine filling the air around them. God, he loved the sounds she made. They were a symphony to his ears. Something he never wanted to forget.

His lips trailed up her chest to her neck, sucking and nibbling as he went causing her to shift underneath him seeking friction. He stopped when he reached her ear. “I’m gonna make you scream me name, yeah? Till everyone hears it and I’m gonna make you mine again and again till you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Promises, promises.”

Oh, he fulfilled that promise...and enjoyed every moment of it.

***

The rest of the night saw them never leaving the creaky, small bed unless necessary. The flat reeked of sex and alcohol. In-between throes of passion, they cuddled, talking and laughing about whatever come to mind. Eventually they finished off the treats she bought at the bakery and the bottle of rum. He shared about his growing reputation amongst the community, his annoyance with some of the younger lads and the local girls his mum kept trying to catch his eye with. The one thing they never talked about was tomorrow or the future, preferring to live in the moment. For both of them, the future only beheld uncertainty.

At some point in the early morning hours, they drifted to sleep tangled up in one another. Alfie woke first, used to rising early. This time he refused to move. He lightly traced her form which was pressed up against him, touching her hair and skin, trying to memorize every curve on her body. He wondered what would become of them now. Soon enough he would be off to war. Only fate knew if he would return to these shores and streets that raised him. And Sarah, his angel…where would she go? Only in the darkness still covering his room, could he admit to himself how perfect this felt. Waking up next to her, having her in his arms and his flat. Yet something continued to draw them apart. Would their paths only ever meet for a short period or would one day they converge and create one single path they both could walk on?

When she woke, they dressed and joked about what the day held for each of them. Trying to keep the mood light and carefree felt almost forced, a heaviness hung unseen and unspoken in the flat alluding to the truth. This may be the last time they saw each other.

If their last bout of passion- him pinning her against the wall in the hallway, head buried between her breasts as she panted his name- felt like a goodbye, neither said anything.

He guided her over the bridge and closer to where she could find a carriage to take her home. They walked next to one another, hands brushing occasionally. Silence hung over them once they left his flat. It was not uncomfortable, more as if words were unnecessary at this point. For what else was there they could truly say?

On a street corner, Alfie waved down a carriage for Sarah. The elderly man spoke with a thick rasp yet friendly as his golden mare stomped impatiently.

He grasped her wrist before she started to climb up, gaining her attention. “Will you write…to me? I reckon I’ll be in France with the other lads, yeah. S’alright if you don’t…just figured I’d ask anyhow.”

“I will. I’ll try to at least. I’m not sure where I’ll be after this, but if I can. I’ll write.”

He nodded, shuffling his feet. He hated good-byes, never quite knew what to say but this felt downright painful.

“Here. I want you to have this.” She took off the thin gold pendant she had been wearing the whole time. “I knew my father would never let me wear the Jewish star, but this star was close enough. I got it to remember you. Its brought me luck since I bought it…hopefully it’ll do the same for you.”

Alfie looked down at the necklace she placed in his palm, the Northern star design simple in gold. Being small, he figured he could easily hide it from others. “Angel, I…”

“No, you come back.” She cupped his face, voice hard and demanding. “That’s an order, soldier. One day you will rule London and I’ll be by your side. Until then, you survive. We will find each other.”

Uncaring of the people around him, he grabbed her and kissed her thoroughly. Whatever words he wished to say but sat stuck in his chest, he poured into that kiss. She pulled him closer, reciprocating with a passion that crossed the line of decency in public.

Eventually they broke apart. With one last longing look, she turned and climbed into the carriage. Immediately the driver flicked the reins and started away. Never once did she look back but he watched until the carriage was gone from view.

Her last words to him felt seared, branded into his soul. Like a kiss from fate, he somehow knew they would come to pass. No matter what happened in this goddamn war, he would survive. He had too.

“I’ll find you, Angel.” He whispered, a promise to himself and her. Tightening his fist around the necklace, he turned and started back towards Camden Town.

[join-the-joywrite]

Time After Time -- 3

a boy a girl a time turner

when a time turner is shattered in a small fight, it’s up to the unlikely pair to figure out how to survive until the end of the war. it’s their only shot at breaking the loop.

masterpost prev || next

Chapter 3 - When Draco blurted the truth 

Hermione sat up with a gasp. "It's not a dream!"

"Pardon?" Draco said, walking to the couch with a glass of water. "Here, drink this."

Hermione took the glass as she swung her legs down. "I wasn't dreaming."

"About what?" Draco asked, reaching forward and tipping the glass so that Hermione was actually drinking the water.

"Dying."

"You're clearly alive, Granger."

"No, you don't understand, Malfoy. I died. Three times already now. Twice you died first, trying to save me. Why? Why would you do that? Why did you even come back in the first place? Why -- why do you have my. . ."

Draco waited.

"I die, don't I? In the end. That's what I saw before I passed out. There's going to be a battle and I'm going to die."

"We don't know that," Draco said quickly, sitting next to Hermione. "We -- I meddled with time."

"And bad things befall those who meddle with time, Malfoy. Have you any idea what you've caused?"

"I don't like owing people."

Hermione frowned for just a second. "I save your life at some point. That's why you've been trying to save me. Am I wrong?"

Draco didn't answer.

"I've had to watch you get impaled, Malfoy. Twice."

"I'm sorry--"

"How could you be? You don't remember it. I'm the one stuck in this loop."

Draco's lip twitched slightly, but he said nothing. Hermione sighed and stood up. She fetched her jacket before pausing in from of Draco on her way out. "Look, later, Parkinson is going to try to kill you. Please stay vigilant."

Draco nodded. When she turned to leave, he wrapped his hand around her wrist. "Hermione."

"I can't. I can't promise you I'm going to stay safe. I hate owing people too."

"Could you at least try?"

Hermione hesitated before nodding. She paused in the doorway, glancing back to see Draco with his head in her hands.

///////////////

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Sectumsepra!"

Despite the effort, Pansy's curse still struck Hermione. Draco couldn't care less about Pansy and the screams that surrounded her as he cradled Hermione's body. "Stop it. You're supposed to have more time than this."

///////////////

Hermione sat up with a gasp. "Malfoy."

"I'm here."

Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands as she pulled her knees up.

"Granger."

"I keep dying," she murmured, her voice muffled, "and nothing I do changes it. Every time. We don't get past. I'm stuck in a loop where I can't even save someone else without dying myself."

"Then stop trying to save me," Draco said, sounding as if he were pleading with her.

"What? And let you die? I couldn't live with that guilt."

Draco sat down in front of her and gently forced her head up. "Tell you what, Granger, this time, you let me defend myself. Tell me what happens."

Hermione couldn't get the words out at first, but she eventually told Draco what would happen, down to the last second.

"Granger, from what you've said, your death resets the loop, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"So if I fail, just reset the loop."

"Are you seriously telling me to kill myself?"

"Well, I mean, you said you couldn't live with the g--"

"This is a serious thing, Malfoy!" Hermione cried, snatching a cushion and beating Draco with it. After a moment of letting Hermione beat him up, he grabbed both her wrists.

"How many times?" he asked when she calmed down.

"What?"

"How many times has this happened?"

Hermione hesitated. "Forty-eight."

"I -- I didn't expect you to keep count."

"It's all that's keeping me sane at this point. I'll let you defend yourself. Just please, please, turn around in time."

Draco nodded firmly. "Promise me you'll stay away."

Hermione hesitated again. "Not an option. I have to go. They'll be looking for me. Be careful, Draco."

Hermione remembered her jacket after she'd crossed the threshold, but when she turned back, she found Draco holding tightly to it.

She left the cottage.

///////////////

Pansy turned back.

"Malfoy!"

"Ava--"

"Stupefy! Expelliarmus!"

Hermione pushed through the students as Filch grabbed Pansy's wand and pushed her out of the hall. "You didn't try to kill her?"

Draco shrugged as he pocketed his wand. "I saw no need. Excuse me."

Hermione watched in stunned surprise as Draco rushed to defend the younger Slytherins from the other students. Every other time, Hermione remembered hearing a violent curse from Draco's lips, his wand aimed at Pansy. Now, when Draco was defending himself, he merely stunned and disarmed her. Hermione frowned, confused.

///////////////

"Harry," Ron said, causing Harry to stop sprinting and turn back to him and Hermione. "We've been thinking, it doesn't really matter if we find the Horcrux."

"Wh--"

"Wait," Hermione said softly.

"It doesn't matter unless we can destroy it."

"Ron's had a brilliant idea," Hermione told Harry.

"You destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with a Basilisk fang, right? Well, we know where to find those, don't we?"

Harry's mouth fell open. "That is a brilliant idea, Ron. Here, take this." Harry held out the Marauder's Map. "You'll be able to use it to find me."

"Where are you going?"

"Ravenclaw tower. Gotta start somewhere."

The diadem, Hermione remembered. It had been so long since she'd heard Luna mention it to Harry. Nodding, she motioned for Ron to follow her.

"Good luck," the three told each other simultaneously.

On their way to Myrtle's bathroom, Hermione ran into Draco -- literally.

"Granger!" Draco said, grabbing her elbows to stop them both from falling to the ground. "Where are you going?"

"Horcrux," Hermione said as she pulled away and continued on, half-jogging.

"Use a--"

"Basilisk fang, yes, we know! Ron figured it out!"

Surprising Ron, Draco offered him a smile and a thumbs up. "Be careful!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She tapped Ron's arm before turning to continue to the bathroom. "Come on."

///////////////

Ron held out the fang to Hermione. "You do it."

"No, I--"

"Yes, you can."

Sighing, Hermione took the fang and raised it high above her head. She brought it down heavily. Distracted by the dark smoke rising, Hermione failed to notice the wave of water growing.

"Ron. . ." she said slowly, tapping his arm repeatedly, "RUN!"

///////////////

Hermione woke up gasping for air. "DAMNIT!"

Draco paused with a glance of water in his hand. "What happened?"

"I drowned! Again! For the dozenth time!"

"You . . . drowned?" Draco offered Hermione the glass as he sat down beside her. She pushed it away.

"I can't look at water right now, Malfoy. I'm sorry. It's a long story."

"I'm all ears if you want to talk."

And so she did. Hermione told Draco about falling to their death and about being impaled by a sword. She told him how she died forty-eight times trying to stop pull him out of Pansy's line of fire. She told him how she'd drowned trying to outrun the wave twelve times now.

"Granger, seeing as you're bound to get to that point again, why don't you get back out, destroy the Horcrux, then drop it back in, then flee the whole bathroom?"

Hermione stared at Draco. "Why couldn't you say that the first time I told you the story?"

///////////////

Ron held the Basilisk fang out to Hermione. "You do it."

"No, I--"

"Yes, you can."

Hermione sighed. "All right. But let's do it up outside."

"Why?"

"Let's just say I've been here before. Many times."

Ron trusted Hermione, so he followed her out.

"Don't seal the chamber yet."

Raising her arm high, Hermione brought the fang down on the cup hard. She kicked it down the chute quickly, watching as black smoke rose up.

"We should run."

"Why?"

"Flood."

"You could've led with that!" Ron yelled, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her along.

They were halfway down the corridor when water spilled through the bathroom, just barely coating the floor.

"Yes!" Hermione cheered, thrilled that she had survived the flood. "Where's Harry now?"

Ron checked the map. "Room of Requirement."

"How do you know?"

"He was on the map and now he's not. The Room doesn't show up on the map."

Hermione closed her surprised mouth and nodded. "Right. Lead the way, Ron."

On the way there, they dodged spells and Death Eaters from every direction.

"Hermione!"

Hermione stopped short, just in time to avoid having her head blown off or something by a spell. Draco caught up to her and Ron.

"You made it out. Why are you holding a tooth?"

"Basilisk fang."

"Ah."

"Ron's idea."

Draco nodded, giving Ron an impressed look. "Where to?"

"Aren't you busy down here?"

Draco looked around. "It's war. Everyone's busy everywhere. If Potter has a clean shot at ending this, then I'm going wherever he is."

Hermione glanced at Ron, almost to apologise, knowing she couldn't possibly explain to him why she trusted Draco.

"Room of Requirement," Ron said.

Draco nodded. "Lead the way, then."

Harry was quite stunned to see Draco Malfoy following his two best friends, but he didn't stop to question it.

"Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. Either of you history nerds know what it looks like?"

"Silver," Draco replied before Hermione could tell Harry she didn't know, "sapphire gemstone in the centre. Not much else to the diadem aside from the silver wings on either side of the stone."

Harry nodded slowly. "Right."

Quite suddenly, Draco jabbed his wand in Harry's direction. Hermione opened her mouth to start yelling vulgar curses at him when she noticed the blue light stream past Harry and send Gregory Goyle flying through the corridor.

"Find that diadem," Draco told the trio, "I'll deal with him." His gaze lingered on Hermione for a moment before he headed towards Goyle.

"Malfoy," Harry said, grabbing Draco's arm as he passed. He held out a familiar ebony wand that he'd taken from Draco during their skirmish at Malfoy Manor. "Think this belongs to you, mate."

Draco offered Harry a smile. "Thanks." He pointed the wand at Hermione. "Be careful."

Hermione smiled. "I will."

With some difficulty, they managed to find the diadem. Each time they tried to reach it, something caused an avalanche of miscellaneous items and they slipped down the pile. The summoning charm wouldn't even work for them.

"Okay, let me try it alone," Hermione said, "I'm smaller than you both. Maybe I'll be able to get high enough to drop it down."

Harry and Ron shared a glance before giving Hermione a nod. She glanced up at the diadem before carefully beginning her climb. She was almost there when Draco returned, skidding right into the pile. Both Hermione and the diadem came tumbling down. Draco managed to catch both, Hermione with his arms and the diadem with his head.

"Uh, Goyle set Fiendfyre on the loose."

"Shit!" Hermione cried, snatching the diadem and falling out of Draco's arms. "Brooms!"

Handing one each to the boys, Hermione mounted the fourth. "Ready?"

"I didn't know you could fly."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I can't believe that is the one thing you three agree on."

They flew off, heading for the large doors. The Fiendfyre began to shoot fireballs at them. Hermione screamed when Draco slipped from his broom. Both Ron and Harry called her name as she tilted the broom into a dive.

///////////////

Hermione jolted awake, but she didn't sit up. Five times now, she'd lost Draco to the Fiendfyre. She wasn't sure she could do it again. She was exhausted. She wanted to just give up. But giving up meant she would die.

And dying meant everything would reset.

"Granger?"

Hermione rolled over, turning her face into the back of the couch.

"Granger, what happened?"

"I can't do it," she mumbled. "I can't do this anymore. I feel like I'm cursed to live the same day over and over again. I just . . . I just can't save you. Every time I fix one problem, another one pops up. I'm tired and drained. I can't keep watching you die time and time again. I can't--"

"You think I don't know what that's like?!"

Hermione jumped at the sound of shattering glass. She sat upright in the corner, watching Draco with wide eyes.

"Shit," Draco murmured, pulling out his wand to repair the glass and clean up the spilt water.

"What do you mean?" Hermione whispered.

"What?"

"Answer me."

Draco remained silent.

"Answer me, goddamnit!"

Draco sighed and pulled out the chair at the table. He sat down heavily. "Tomorrow at 5:45, you die. No resets, no loops. You die and that's it."

prev || next

[cinnbar-bun]

Why I Love You (OC x Lucilius)

a/n: Uhhhhhh here’s one of my self insert fics with lucy this is very weird tbh because like??? I feel selfish and stuff for this. Anyways I hope you enjoy and I got a ton more that range from very angsty to very crackish. It all depends lol

The way you smile at me when something good happens

 Lucilius lazily poured the tea into his and Luna’s cups. He was busy reading when he heard Luna murmuring. He gazed up and saw her with a plate of treats and having a conversation with Lucy the II. The snail seemed to understand her as it slowly nodded its little head.

“Come on, come on, you can do it! I know you can!” She cheered. Lucilius rolled his eyes and returned to his book, not wanting to waste time with a snail of all creatures.

Luna’s gasp however made him jump and drop the book.

“Lucy! He did it! Lucy the II did it!” She squealed.

“What did he do?” Lucilius grumbled, picking up his book at looking at his wife.

“He moved down the whole hall by himself! Isn’t that wonderful?” She proudly looked at the snail.

“I mean-I guess. I’d never waste my time with that.” He boredly said.

“Oh don’t be like that honey.” Luna giggled, and Lucilius’ eyes felt drawn to her for some reason. He saw her smile, the one that she had when things were good, when she was with family.

It was the prettiest smile to him. There was none other like it. The warmth and happiness it exuded seemed to shine brighter than the sun or any star. And it was for him. It was with him. Sometimes it was even because of him. He loved that smile. And he wanted to keep it on her forever.

He couldn’t help but crack a smile too, closing his book with a loud thud and walking to her. He wrapped his arms around her, and the two quietly embraced.

“I love you...” he whispered. He noticed that her smile grew bigger and brighter, accompanied with the cute blush on her cheeks. He loved it all.

The way your eyes say what you are feeling

Luna held the pretty box in her hand and ran down the numerous hallways to her husband’s office. She slammed open the door and Lucilius shrieked, dropping his tools and launching himself nearly three feet from his chair.

“Luuucyyy! I got your gift!” She cheekily smiled.

 “Yeah, well you’re supposed to open it.” Lucilius grumbled.

 “But how can I open it if you’re not there! You got me it and I want to do this with you!”

 “By the gods, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.” Lucilius sighed.

 Luna placed the gift gently on Lucilius’ desk and unwrapped it.

“Oh my...is this...” she gasped, pulling out a necklace with a large purple gemstone in the shape of a heart. “Lucy~!”

“Don’t cry, Luna. It’s just a gift.” He blushed.

“It’s more than that, it’s from you and it’s...Oh, it’s so pretty. Thank you, my love.” She hugged him and kissed his cheek, and his face flared an even brighter shade of red.

“N-n-n-n-“ He trembled, and she chuckled at his embarrassed reaction. His blue eyes timidly gazed at her and she placed a gentle hand on his cheeks. 

His eyes said many things. 

I was worried you’d hate it. I thought you’d hate me for getting you it. I’m glad I was wrong. 

I love you. 

The way you care for everything like it was your own, even the most disgusting of creatures. 

“I can’t believe you brought in another snail! They’re gross and disgusting! Why do you like them?” He groaned. 

“Well, why not? They’re so cute! And it was nearly dead too. I’d hate for it to be hurt.” She sadly petted the little snail as it snuggled into her. 

“I’d hardly classify it as cute. It’s prey. Let it die.” He grimaced. 

“I can’t! That’d be too awful! It wouldn’t even have benefited anyone! It was just injured and dying!” She cried.

Lucilius rolled his eyes and waved his hand away, as if to dismiss Luna. 

“Whatever, just keep that thing away from me.” 

It wasn’t long before Luna had nursed the snail back to health and introduced it to her neverending zoo of creatures. They all lived in harmony together and managed to coexist without killing each other, something Lucilius always questioned. 

He went to visit her one day to ask if she would like to take a walk outside when he saw her talk to the snail. 

“Are you doing alright? Oh, is that so? I’m glad you’re enjoying it here. This bird? I promise, she won’t hurt you. I want to get you slowly used to them so you don’t fear them anymore. Don’t worry, she won’t leave my shoulder. We’ll just be right here.” She quietly explained. 

He leaned against the wall and watched her work her magic. She stroked the snail delicately and it seemed to relax more under her touch. 

“You’re doing great. Do you want to try having her a few feet away from you?” She asked. The snail contemplated for a moment before nodding, and Luna placed the finger that the bird perched on to a table. The bird hopped off and stared at the snail, who coiled back in slight fear. Luna reassured it and the snail poked its head through its shell to see. 

Lucilius cracked a smile at the interaction. In any normal world, the snail would’ve been torn apart. It would’ve been killed and fed to that bird. But through the strange magic of his lover, the two were friends. 

She made everything rather strange, didn’t she?

The way you would protect me and do your best to make me smile. 

Luna tepidly stared at the clock. She had sat silently in her room and did not make any effort to get up. 

“Luna, you’re still here?” Lucilius asked, a slight frown on his lips. 

“Y-yeah…” She admitted, although she did not change her position. 

“Why are you-” A thought ran through his head and he cut himself off. He exhaled slightly and walked to her, wrapping his arms around her awkwardly yet still full of affection. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” 

“It’s alright dear. I’ll be fine. Just go and continue your work. I’m sure the Council needs you more than-” 

“Screw the Council.” Lucilius snapped. “You are my wife, and my duty as your husband is to help you. Come here.” 

He was still rather blunt and aggressive, but it was significantly softer than it normally was. She scooted closer to him and he scooped her up in a bridal carry. 

“Lucy! What are you-” 

“I’m not having that damn monster ruin your day. He will not get in the way of your happiness. I’m going to make sure of that.” He stated. 

“But I’m not even out of my nightgown!” Luna cried. 

“And? What is the significance of that? We’re home, so you can do as you feel.” 

“But-” 

“Why do you continue to make excuses, Luna? I’m trying to take you to the damn gardens, just let it happen.” He sighed. 

“Aright.” She held onto him tightly as he walked to the gardens, where a white table was laid out for them. 

“Sit. I’m going to brew some tea for you.” He ordered, and she did as told. 

A few minutes later, he held a teetering tray of teacups and a teapot, as well as bowls of sugarcubes. 

“Lucy-” 

“Sit down. I got this.” He pouted as he walked the tray over to the table, and clumsily placed two teacups on the table. He yanked the teapot off the tray, causing it to tip slightly and drop a bit of tea on his’ white robes. “Shit!” 

“Oh my god, Lucy-” Luna jumped to help him, but he held her back with his arm. 

“No, no, no! I can do this! I swear I can!” He yelled, his face flushed with embarrassment. Luna covered her mouth and tried to contain her laughter. “It’s not that hard! All I gotta do is-” 

Lucilius couldn’t finish his sentence after he tripped over his own robes, sending the teapot flying. In an attempt to catch it, he threw himself on the table, knocking that over as well. The cracking of glass and the wood of the table collided, until it was all silent. Lucilius and Luna were stunned in silence, Lucilius still in the position he was when he was trying to catch the teapot. 

He cursed himself for being so clumsy. He was surprised when he heard gurgling sounds from Luna and thought she was hurt. 

“Crap, did I-” He turned to her and saw she wasn’t hurt, instead completely fine and trying to stifle her giggles. “Are you...laughing?” 

That question tipped her to the edge as she finally let out the laughter she was holding in. 

“Ahaha! Oh my god, Lucy, how could you fail that bad!?” She guffawed. She laughed until tears trickled down her eyes, in which she hugged him tightly and buried her head into his chest. Her laughter died down a bit until she started hiccuping and sobbing, and that’s when Lucilius hugged her back. 

“Sh...sh...he can’t hurt you anymore, Luna. I won’t allow him to. He won’t come back.” He whispered, stroking her hair reassuringly. She let out a loud cry as he continued easing her fears until she could breathe normally. 

“I-I-I-” She began. “I...I love you, Lucilius. Thank you.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t pour some damn tea correctly.” 

“It’s fine. It was kinda cute. Thank you.” 

“Why thank me? I’ve done it all wrong.” 

“Because, you did it for me. You did it because you wanted me to smile. And that means more to me than any cup of tea.” She giggled. He blushed and hid his face into her neck. 

“I don’t like seeing you frown, it doesn’t suit you.” He murmured. 

“And I don’t like seeing you frown either. Come, I’ll go make us some proper tea.” 

“Please do, I don’t want to break another china set.” 

The way you think of me kindly, even though I am a monster who’s done nothing but hurt you. 

“Mother,” Sandalphon sighed, “why do you want to celebrate his birthday?” 

“Because,” Luna smiled, “I love him. He is my husband.” 

“I can’t believe you sometimes. Don’t you think you’re being too forgiving? He threatened to end the world and the one thing you care about is that he should get cake? Come on, you know he doesn’t deserve it!” 

“I’m doing this of my own volition, Sandalphon. Call me foolish, but I don’t care! My husband is now alive! And even though he may be different, I still love him! I always have, and I always will! You can’t take that away from me!” She cried, holding a plate of his favorite cake in her hands. 

Sandalphon awkwardly looked off to the side as Luna sobbed over the cake. 

“Please don’t take this away from me…” She begged under her breath. 

“I’m...I’m not going to. I’m sorry, I know he means a lot to you and...it’s unfair of me to tell you to forget him. I’ll never understand why you even give him the time of day, but I guess this is what they call love, huh?” 

“It’s more than just love.” Luna exhaled shakily. “It’s about more than that. He was there for me during my darkest times. He was there to save me from my hell. I can never repay that. The least I can do is save him now. I will never abandon him.” 

Sandalphon quietly looked at the ground and frowned. 

“So that’s that? You’re just going to choose him, no matter what?” 

“It’s not like that. I love you, and I love this world. I will protect it. But I will also fight for my husband, who is still there. I cannot just leave him when he’s in such a state as this.” 

“Even after all he’s done to you? Even after...what he did to-” 

“I know. I know. I sound crazy. I do, but please, understand the circumstances here.” 

“I can’t agree with you, mother.” Sandalphon sighed. “I really can’t. But I’m not gonna stop you. You love him, and I can’t change that. So...do what you want.” 

Luna opened her mouth but closed it as Sandalphon turned around and walked away. Luna sighed and placed the cake on the table and lit it up. 

She let the candle quietly burn, the wax melting and dripping down. She smiled to herself and watched it still. 

I love you, Lucilius. Happy birthday. It’s not my birthday, but I wish we could spend time with one another again. Please...if anyone can hear me...I want that as my wish. My only wish. 

The way you say my name so affectionately, even in the harshest of times. 

This was the day they were dreading. Lucilius growled at the crew who challenged him, a threat to his Big Finale that he was desperate for. They would not stop him. 

A familiar face appeared, standing firmly alongside them. 

As their eyes met, his face softened considerably. He flew down and landed gently on the ground. The crew’s faces hardened as they readied their weapons. But he wasn’t focused on them. 

“My dearest wife-” He began. She raised her head higher, and the crew stared in shock. “So you have come.” 

“Yes.” She nodded. Gran and Djeeta were about to interfere when Sandalphon held them back, shaking his head for them to stop. 

“This was the husband she was talking about?” Lyria whispered. 

Lucilius closed his eyes. 

“Judging by their reactions, I suppose you did not inform them of our relationship?” 

“No. I couldn’t.” She admitted. “I don’t want you to be slandered even more. You mean too much for them to-” 

Lucilius nodded somberly. 

“I can’t fault you for that. But I cannot stop my plans. This is for the best. It’s so the world can be reborn anew again.” 

“Then you also know that I cannot watch this world be destroyed. I will protect it with my dying breath.” She squinted her eyes shut and gazed shamefully at the ground. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t face him like this. 

“As you wish, dear. This is perhaps the last time we’ll see each other. Luna,” He said her name softly, filled with love and fond memories. Her tears rushed down harder. 

“L-Lucilius!” She screamed. He didn’t say a word, instead, tilting her chin up and gazing down at her. He cracked a barely noticeable smile and his blue eyes once again held the kindness from over two thousand years ago. This was her husband. 

She sniffled and nodded back, understanding what he was saying. 

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry it had to come to this. 

“I love you too.” She whispered, for his ears only. He hesitantly stepped back from her and turned away. 

“For the rest of you, know I will spare no mercy. You will not stop me from my wishes.” He stated coldly. 

Luna quietly sobbed as Sandalphon ran over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“We will! And we’ll kill you!” He yelled. Lucilius looked over his shoulder and, against his own thoughts, gazed at his wife. She was sobbing, wiping her eyes as she huddled into Sandalphon’s chest. 

I may not like you much, spare, but I know you can protect my wife better than I could. This is not going to end well for either side. But knowing at least you are next to her eases me slightly. 

I love you, Luna. 

[ouroboros-panacea]

Stone [石头]-Enigma-[3/?]

Summary:  [JJBA x HNK] "Phosphophyllite, my name is Phosphophyllite." Such is your useless life, no matter how many changes you make, how strong you become. Your life will still simply be a tragedy, and you, forever useless. The tale of a gem who suffered because of change, and an ancient being who wanted to change. An odd friendship it'd be. Rebirth seems more like a curse than anything. It would be nice if this didn't end with tragedy. {Disclaimer- I don't own hnk or jjba}

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Smashing onto hidden pebbles and rocks, Phosphophyllite broke apart into both large and small parts, arms and legs fragmenting into twos and threes. Her crystalline body was fractured, shards of herself scattering across the grassy forest floor. Facing down on the ground, her face split apart, her eyeballs clinking against the remains of her face. Yet part of her segmented left arm stayed in Kars' strong grip, his fingers still curled tightly around her wrist.

"Hm?"

Kars, hearing the sound of and feeling a tugging sensation through the singular arm he held, turned around to look at her. His violet eyes widening at the unusual-abnormal-sight of a shattered gem-like body. Hands instinctively twitched at the surprise, the strength of the young pillar man making visible indents in her wrist-Little pieces dropping down and littering the earth with her "flesh". He had expected her to have fallen earlier, due to how much effort it took her to keep up with him. Yet he didn't expect to see the masses of mint green gems spread around-each of them resembling a part of human limb like a morbid jigsaw puzzle.

Was she dead? Kars thought so for a moment, until something else came to disprove that thought.

In a desperate attempt to glue back her body, golden alloy leaked out of her body once more. Almost like blood, pouring out in copious amounts, it flowed down from invisible spaces to form a shapeless puddle. Then thin tendrils rose from it. From there, it started to blindly claw the ground for the other body parts.

Kars silently stared, face now holding an expression of interest. The rest of the environment around him ignored in favor of recording even more information about this..."newcomer". It was now a deeply ingrained fact in his mind that Phosphophyllite was neither part of humanity or his race. This only cemented his desire to know everything possible about her.

The more he got to know about her, the more he found himself becoming even more curious about her.

Which was expected, seeing as she was like a breath of fresh air-a ray of false sunlight suddenly shining down onto his dull, mundane existence. A challenge he would most definitely solve, no matter how long it took him. It gave him that welcomed feeling of having to go through an actual struggle to get to the 'prize'.

Kars then held up the piece of her arm in his large hand to study. It was split off from the rest of Phosphophyllite with a clean break. Her hand had the normal five fingers, nails a basic mint green (Strange that her nails weren't the "normal" transparent pink peach)-Overall plain and exactly like the hands of his kind and the humans. Nothing notable other than the small detail concerning the color of her nails.

Turning it upside down to look at the insides of her limb, Kars saw exactly what he expected-after the initial shock of seeing her scattered body parts-a crystalline interior, glinting in the moonlight and faintly reflecting a green tinted kaleidoscopic version of his deep violet eyes.

'It's a beautiful colour.' Kars thought with the sort of admiration one has for natural beauty. 'Like clear sea water.'

But a small thought nagged at the back of his mind as he turned his head to look back at the ongoing search for green gemstones.

'Why is she not dead? But assuming death for her was breaking apart, I believe she would have died much longer ago. With how brittle her body is and how clumsy she is from what I've seen, that's a given fact. Could it be that she doesn't die from that?'

That would mean the closest to death she would get was if she was entirely turned to dust without any chance of being pieced back together.

If Phosphophyllite was entirely made up of mineral on the inside and did not "die" if broken, then did that mean that they were technically immortal? Seeing as there was no organic material inside her to rot up until the day she died-much like the short lived humans he saw that usually passed by within a blink of an eye.

If there was no decomposition, no aging, then-?

Was she immortal then? Unable to die no matter what, unless her body was unable to be put back together?

How...interesting, yet, unnerving. To know that there were people out there whose's ability to stay as a part of the living were far greater than his kind, who suffered from such a simple thing.

The sun.

He'd have to study this (her) more.

The puzzle that Phosphophyllite gave him was, suffice to say, complex. But definitely intriguing. 

Perhaps, through her, he could find a way to combat the weakness to the sun that his species possessed. Then he'd finally, finally be able to feel that warmth on his skin, the pure light that was so, so very different and new and absolutely wonderful.

His head spun with the possibilities, eager to build upon those ideas and fantasies like a dog with a bone. (His body ever so slightly jerked, as if remembering the severe harm sunlight could do to him-admonishing him for even thinking of going under the sun.) 

He stopped that train of thought as it threatened to spiral further down. It would do him no good if he went ahead of himself because of his emotions without a plan (Like his Father said he always did).

'Breathe, in and out. Calm yourself. Remember what Mother and Father always said. Don't just focus on possibilities, if you want to make it happen, you must plan to do so first.'

A thin string of metal coiled around his wrist-interrupting him-and on reflex (and out of surprise) he yanked his hand away. The metal snapped from the burst of energy, pathetically flopping around on the floor like a blinded man, searching for a larger pool of alloy to be a part of. Kars' impassive face was broken in that instant, violet eyes narrowing, teeth sharply clicking together as his mouth closed with a "clack".

Why was this... anomaly giving him such trouble? He was supposed to be in control of himself.

Kars wasn't sure about the answer to that question-It wasn't like one of those questions where he'd simply have to look up to know. It was... different. (He didn't like that).

He glared even more at the alloy, tiny waves of annoyance washing over him. Kars wanted to do something to it to make it pay for interrupting him. But he squashed down those feelings-How could he let such small things annoy him so?

Kars looked back the slowly working puzzle, he wondered if it would be better to carry all of her pieces back home, or would it benefit him more if he'd help her. On one hand, he'd get back quicker, yet if he did help her, there was a chance of her trusting him more, and making it easier for him to "observe" her with less repercussions.

After all, people let their guards down more if they were around someone they trusted.

Kars started to move towards the body, all the while his eyes scanned the forest floor for the shining gem pieces, picking them up as he went closer and closer. Soon his arms were full of the roughly cut jewels when he finally approached Phosphophyllite's still body. He slowly knelt onto the plants, looking down carefully as to not crush the fragile things-his arms tight around the mass of mint green mineral. When Kars settled down, he gently placed down his load-Kars didn't need to waste even more time by breaking her in even smaller pieces, he wasn't sure how long this night would last. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck under the sunlight.

Kars took a piece from the pile and offered it to metal tendrils, who quickly snatched it away from him and went back to work. When they ran out of pieces to put, they turned to Kars for more. Soon they ended up just taking parts from the pile itself.

This cycle went on for a bit until larger parts of Phosphophyllite were fixed and Kars himself could start doing something instead of kneeling until his legs went numb.

"Thanks for fixing me back together." Phosphophyllite said, droopy eyes staring up at Kars. His own narrow eyes looked back at her in a silent of gesture of acknowledgment.

Well.

'Obviously he wouldn't respond.' A familiar voice echoed in her head again. 'He's kind of a stoic and serious type, don't you think?' It gained a rather teasing tone as it said this, making Phos unconsciously frown.

"I guess..." Phos mumbled as she watched him repair her body.

Kars heard that sentence, but chose not to comment.

It was a peaceful, yet awkward silence that enveloped the atmosphere around the two. That was promptly broken by Kars' curt words of "I'm finished." and his body rising up from it's previous kneeling position.

"A-ah, really? Um, thanks again for helping me."

It took a brief period of hesitation, but Kars answered back with a polite "You're welcome."

Phos smiled brightly at him in answer.

Inwardly, Kars imagined her to be like a flower and somehow...

His lips lifted into a small smile as well.

"You're smiling!" Phosphophyllite cried out in childish surprise, snapping up into a seated position as she pointed at the normally stoic boy.

At this, Kars' smile instantly returned to his original impassive expression.

"Damn it."

It was a while after they started their journey back to Kars' home (This time at a much more leisurely pace) that they had their first, real conversation together. It was nothing much, merely small chit-chat to help pass the time and to alleviate the slightly tense silence that hung in the air.

After all, they were still knew next to nothing about each other.

"So...how are you feeling?" Phos asked, her shiny green eyes gazing up in curiosity at the taller boy as they continued walking (To who knows where).

He glanced back down at her and answered in return with, "Why do you ask?"

"Well I was just curious, plus you don't seem like the type to say anything unless I start the conversation or something." She replied.

Kars blinked and said, "You don't need to concern yourself with such things."

"Well, maybe I don't need to, but I want to. Besides, you don't seem all that bad yourself. I mean, you helped fix me, right? That means you're a nice person!" Phosphophyllite cheerfully stated, her hands clasped behind her back and head slightly tilted as she smiled at Kars.

"It was better than waiting for you fix yourself and wasting away time that could've been used for better reasons. Like our little walk." Kars flatly responded back at her.

Phos cried out in mock hurt, "Ouch!" She slapped one of her hands on the left side of her chest, fingers lightly touching the black fabric.

"Your feelings have been noted." Kars wryly smiled, his tone dry like an arid desert. It would be a lie to say that he did not find some sort of amusement from Phos' rather expressive actions.

"Hmph," Phos crossed her arms in indignation. "On second thought, you're just a meanie!"

Kars raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Am I now?"

"Yup."

Without any of them knowing it, their friendly banter slowly melted the previous tension in the air, and somehow, Kars managed to let lose (even if only slightly) with someone-A near stranger, nonetheless.

It was strange how easy it felt being with Phosphophyllite.

It was when they'd moved on to commenting about the scenery around them that Kars realized they were nearing their (his) intended location.

"It's literally just green" stated Phos, gesturing at the varying shades of said colour that the forest came in as they moved. Even though it all looked the same to her anyways.

"It's not 'just' green, every plant or tree here has their own unique shade." Kars shot back, frowning.

"Whatever you say~" Phos airily replied, eyes lidded whilst waving her left hand at him.

As they passed by a large, large tree, Kars noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A faint symbol, spiraling and curved like air, twirled around like a silent indicator.

It was at this moment, when all of a sudden Kars turned to Phos and with arms outstretched, swept her off her feet into his muscular arms.

Phos cried out in surprise, "Wha-? W-woah!" Her arms flailed around and her eyes widened in shock.

"Don't ask."

Phosphophyllite silently nodded at Kars, her mind rolling around in confusion.

'What is he doing?!' One voice yelled out.

'Wait and see.' Said another.

'...ah-'

Kars bent his knees slightly, getting ready to run.

In his mind, he counted, 'One, two, three', and started running through the forest, keeping an eye out for more symbols on the trees.

Closer and closer they went towards the rabbit hole.

In front of them was a large cave, tall and imposing. If one were to look closely though, the rocks were decorated with detailed carvings of nature and such, becoming a large masterpiece in itself. But if one were to only look in front, all they would see was never-ending darkness greedily sucking in the moonlight that strayed into the dark.

Phos did the former. Kars did neither.

But at last, the both of them had finally reached their (Kars') intended destination, the entrance to the underground civilization of the Pillar race.

Kars slowed down to walking pace whilst still clutching onto Phosphophyllite, and in he went into the entrance, down into the winding maze that led to home.

His home.

-Chapter three end-

[1whump2whumpredwhumpbluewhump]

Dixon’s Beginning

Dixon entered his home after his routine early morning jog through the woods in the surrounding area. That would be one of the last times he’d go through those woods, since he was leaving to travel the kingdom of Aresa. He’d only lived in the house with his parents in the woods, not being able to see many other people since they were on the edge of the kingdom.

He shut the door behind him and let out a sigh. As he walked into the living area, he was nearly knocked over when a woman ran into him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Happy birthday my little Dixie!” The raven-haired woman squealed and hugged the matching hair colored boy.

“Mom, I’m not little, I’m 18!” Dixon said with a chuckle, pushing his mother off him.

“Oh, I know, but still! You’ll always be my little Dixie.” She said and beamed at him, “You’ve grown into quite the handsome young man.”

Dixon opened his mouth to respond but his father joined in saying, “She’s right, any girl would be glad to be with you.”

“Dad-“ Dixon started before turning toward him and saw him holding out a small, wooden box. It was a light chesnut color with twisted engravings across the top like branches intermingling in treetops.

“Happy birthday, son. This is from your mother and I.”

Dixon smiled and took the box from him as he said, “I never asked for anything-“

“We know, but since it’s your 18th birthday, we thought it was the best time to give you this.” his mother said as she moved to her husband and held his hand with a smile.

Dixon looked between his parents before he carefully lifted the lid off of the box and set it on the table behind him. His eyes widened as he pulled out the silver chained necklace from inside. A gemstone the size of his pinky dangled from it by silver wires wrapped around and through it. The shiny, opaque black of the gem was swirled with a translucent blue, giving the illusion of a glow when held in the light. Dixon looked at his parents, his mouth agape in awe.

“Now, before you say anything about the price, it’s an heirloom. It’s been in the family for generations. We thought now was as good a time as ever to give it to you, since you’re going off on your own.” His father said.

Dixon set the box by its lid and put the necklace over his head, letting the gemstone rest on the center of his chest. His eyes lingered on the gem for a few seconds before he looked between his parents. He nearly tackled them in a hug, his arms wrapped around them with a slight squeeze.

“Thank you! Thank you both so much!” Dixon said with a goofy smile stretched across his face.

“We love you, Dixon.” His parents said and pulled away from the hug.

“Keep it with you at all times, but make sure you keep it hidden when you’re in public. Some people might want to... take it from you.” His father said.

“Of course, it’s obviously very valuable-“

“Yes, but it’ll draw attention to you and we just want you to be safe.” His mother interrupted.

Dixon raised an eyebrow and let out a small chuckle as he shook his head and said, “Okay, I get it. But you two don’t have to worry about me that much. Especially after dad went through all the trouble to teach me self defense ever since I was 5.” He looked at them and saw their almost solemn expressions. “Hey, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

His mother hugged him again and leaned her head into the crook of his neck. “We know...” His father put a hand on her shoulder and she let go.

Dixon smiled at them and grabbed the shoulder bag on the couch he had packed the night before. They said their goodbyes and he left, carrying his head high with hopes.

When the door shut, his mother said, “Was it right not to tell him?”

“What were we supposed to say? ‘Hey son, you can use magic, but if you ever do you’ll be condemned to a fate worse than death!’ What good would have come from telling him any of that?”

“I don’t know, but he should at least know what he’s capable of. I don’t like lying to him.”

“If he doesn’t know, he’ll be able to live a peaceful life.”

“I hope so...”

~

With only a few stops along the way, Dixon had left the forest and caught sight of a town in the distance, by nightfall. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he clutched the strap of his bag and jumped as high as he could and broke out into a sprint. He reached the town in a matter of minutes and his eyes were almost sparkling with enthusiasm as he saw the bustling night life of the town. Streets were lit by colored flames from torches and lamps, stalls were open with various wares ranging from exotic foods to intricate jewelry, and music filled the air from street performers. He stood, taking in the atmosphere of it all, before he walked down what seemed to be the main road. His eyes wandered, getting caught by every new movement and sound. He’d always wondered what towns were like, but this exceeded all of his expectations.

While he was distracted, he accidentally bumped into a woman, knocking a basket of flowers out of her hands. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was looking! Here, let me help.” he said and went to pick up what was sprawled on the floor.

“It’s alright, thank you.” she said and picked up the rest of the flowers. Dixon put the ones he grabbed into her basket and stood up along with the woman. “You’re quite kind to help, sir.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It was my fault in the first place. I was distracted with everything going on here, this being my first time in town.” He said with a shy smile.

“I understand. Things here can be a bit overwhelming for newcomers.” She said with a smile and looked at him before raising her eyebrows with wonder, “That’s a lovely necklace!”

His eyes widened and looked down, noticing the gem still hanging from his neck, exposed to the world. He forgot the one thing his parents told him to do. “Thank you.” He quickly grabbed the necklace and tucked it into his shirt, hoping nobody else noticed it.

“I feel like I’ve seen something like it before... or maybe heard of something like it...” she said scrunching her eyebrows in thought.

“Really?” He looked at her with curiosity as the woman in front of him was silent for a few seconds before her eyes widened and gave him a nervous smile.

“Nevermind! I should really be going!” she said and quickly brushed past him.

He watched as she disappeared into the crowd. He messed up. Big time. He turned and sped walked away, hoping to put some distance between himself and that woman. He didn’t think she was dangerous, but the way she acted at the end was... odd. And after his mistake of not hiding his necklace, he didn’t want to take anymore risks.

While the night life of the town was fun for him, he needed to find an inn or someplace where he could stay for the night. But he didn’t mind sleeping outside if it came down to it. He often slept on his room back home when it was a clear night.

He noticed though, that the farther he walked into the town, the more looks he got from the townsfolk. Some were looks of skepticism and curiosity, which he expected, but from most of the people... they were more of hatred and fear. Dixon held his bag close to himself and continued walking, not looking at the surrounding people. That was, until he felt something hard hit his back.

He stopped and turned around to see what it was and his eyes widened when he saw a rock. He glanced up and saw a man glaring at him. Did he throw that at him? Dixon was going to keep walking and ignore it, but he felt another rock hit his hip and another to his shoulder, stabs of pain shooting through him. Soon rocks were raining down on him from a growing group of angry townsfolk. He may have been taught how to fight, but he didn’t know what he could do against rocks. He crouched down and tried to use his bag as protection, covering his head and shoulders as much as he could.

Why were they doing this? Why were they trying to hurt him? He didn’t do anything wrong, he didn’t hurt anyone else. Blood pounded in his ears muffling the shouts of the people. He could only make out a few words and phrases that they kept repeating, but it only confused him more. Damn Wielder! Magic using freak! Cursed child! Prophecy’s demon!

The rocks had slowed their descent upon him until he could feel no more. He didn’t dare move in fear of them just waiting for him to get up so they can get his face and head to do some real damage. He let out a yelp as someone tore his bag away from him, sending him sprawling onto his hands and knees. He hadn’t realized how much he was shaking until he was trying to hold himself up. He was roughly grabbed by his shirt and lifted up, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground. He was met with a rugged faced man who seemed to be seething with rage.

“You dare show your face, Wielder?! You and your disgusting magic should’ve just stayed in the pits of hell you came from!” The man shouted in his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir, I-“ Dixon couldn’t finish his nervous explainations as the man’s fist collided with his cheek, knuckles cracking against his bone.

“You don’t get the pleasure of lying, Wielder! You think we don’t know who you are?!” He yanks Dixon’s necklace out of his shirt and dangles it in front of his horrified face, “Your ebony stone is proof enough of your identity.”

Dixon was thrown to the ground, his shaking form not making any movements to escape. His heart was hammering through his chest and his eyes flicked up to the man who was holding him previously before recieving a hard kick to the gut, sending him flying a few feet. Any air that was once in his body was gone, forcing him to cough up spit and bile. He wasn’t given a chance to breathe as he felt another kick to his back from someone in the crowd that had gathered around them, sending him back toward the man. He let out a low groan, feeling every part of his body that was previously pelted with stones get jostled and scraped by the brick street below. Dixon didn’t even struggle when he was yanked back up by his hair and just whimpered in his captor’s hold.

The man pulled out a knife from his belt and held it at Dixon’s throat. “You deserve to die...”

Dixon didn’t dare shake his head in protest. “Please don’t, I-I don’t have magic, I swear, please, I-I’ll do anything, just-please” he pleaded in a small voice. He was scared. He was so scared. He didn’t know what he did wrong. He didn’t know why these people hated him so much. He didn’t want to be hurt anymore. He didn’t want to die.

The man scowled and slowly put more pressure on the knife in response, breaking the skin causing a trickle of warm blood to flow down his neck.

“Don’t-please, I-please, just let me go, please- STOP!” Dixon screamed the last word and felt a rush of something course through his body. He didn’t know what it was, but the man had stopped. The man dropped the knife, followed by Dixon himself. He caught himself and forced himself to stand, not wanting to fall onto the floor again.

After taking a few breaths he realized that the crowd had gone silent and had also backed away a few feet more with shocked and horrified faces. Dixon looked at them before turning and looking at the man who had been about to kill him. The man’s eyes were glassy and his mouth was open in a sort of silent scream, but he was stock still.

“W-Wha..?” Dixon started before catching his reflection in one of the shop’s windows. Across the left side of his head and neck were large, glowing, black, swirling markings. He reached up and touched them, seeing if they’d rub away like wet paint, but they didn’t.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a loud thud behind him. He turned around and saw the man who’d attacked him lying on the floor, unmoving. The glow from his marks disappeared, but the marks remained. Another man from the crowd approached the attacker’s body and examined him, fury and fear lacing his features as he spoke two words, he’s dead. The crowd murmured accusations toward Dixon for the man’s death.

Dixon backed away from the body slowly, horror nearly overtaking him as his vision began to swim. I couldn’t have killed him. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was attacked. I was the one who was about to be killed. I’m not a murderer. His thoughts were a jumbled mess as he tripped over his own two feet and fell back onto the concrete, all of his strength nonexistant. He was terrified and he couldn’t move. His vision went black as his consciousness faded away into nothingness.

The crowd remained unmoving, not quite sure what to do with Dixon out cold. Then, two men wearing royal knight uniforms, rode into the town and up to the crowd.

“Everyone clear out! Leave the boy to us!” shouted one knight, and the townsfolk quickly abliged.

The other knight dismounted and squat near Dixon’s body, as he looked at his markings with contempt before he spit on him. He then dragged him up and threw him over his saddle before the two knights rode back out of town toward the mainland where Aresa’s castle lay.

[kerriescreativecorner]

the Angel's Dark Side

Warning NSFW and 18 or over content it also has doming undertones and some S&M so if that is not your cup of tea then don't read

what if the sweet Angel Mitsunari hand a darker side today I give you a nice story showing perhaps Mitsunari’s dark hidden side. as always I hope you all do enjoy it thank you for stopping by and reading

Daisy hand just rushed the last of the patrons out the door of the library. It was a small town no more than 865 people live there and on days like today, only 5 people hand found their way to the towns treasure-trove of books. As she locked the front door she sighed softly to herself and thought

“Not many books to reshelve today. “ she had spoken out loud her tough without even know it.

“Hmm what was that” came clam even words from  the reading corner at the back of the library and to her right

Daisy almost jumped out of her skin wan she heard  the voice

“Mitsunari “  she stated softly “I see you are in your favorite spot ”

“Mm I been here all afternoon watching you “ there was a dark sensual  glint to his amethyst eyes as he spoke the words

Daisy nibble on her lower lip she knew that look in his eyes all to well. Oh if only the world outside the two of them know about this sweet angles darker side then perhaps they would look at him differently than they do.

Mitsunari Ishida for what the world knew about him was the even-toned sometimes soft spoke pacifist. He was smart he held several degrees in several fields. Currently, he was teaching law classes at the University of Idaho alongside Nobunaga and Ieyasu. So Daisy was surprised to see him here of all days.

“I thought you hand classes and a study hall today Mitsunari,” she said without missing a beat or showing she hand caught the look in his eye.

Mitsunari smirked at her knowing she was just bating him, Boy he loved it wan she played this game with him, it always made things more interesting as well as unpriceable. And if there was one thing he didn’t like it was unpriceable and mild manner Daisy was a wild card he never knew what to expect with her.

Like him, her outward apprentices was of a sweet mild-mannered Librarian. She was smart like he was she hand degrees in creative writing. English Lit, and book restoration, as well as she, spoke Japanese, French, German, and Gaelic fluently.

She was soft spoken most of the time but she had her moments where she could be like her twin sister May. Outspoken and blunt to a fault but unlike her twin, she delivered it in a way that sounded sweet and kind not blunt and bitch like May was. But both twins shared one more thing in common that's how he found out about Daisy kinks, May was an open book Daisy she was a true hidden treasure he had to plunder and did quite often. one would never guess by looking at her, that like him she delights in some of the things one would read in fifty shades of gray and the books that followed after that one.  Yes, Daisy and May might look like a carbon copy of one another but that's as far as it went.  Daisy had class and heald herself as a lady at all times and that's what he loved about her.

As he thought about all of this Mitsunari watched Daisy reshelve the few books that had been returned. He knew full and well he had yet to answer her question about why he was not teaching this afternoon and he let it hang in the air unanswered.

Daisy turned to look at him the library’s control and catalog tablet in her hand. She was just about to dim the lights and arm the security system when he took it from her.

His purple hues scanned the tablet and he pressed the iCone that opened up the library's security, lighting and windows control system.

“ I didn’t install this state of the art window, lighting and security,   system in my library for it not to be used, “  he said the words as the windows from the outside tinted so that no one could see in but anyone in the library could still see outside.

Daisy arched a brow at him a knowingly lovely smirk on her lips

“Why Mr. Ishida I use theme all the time wan I close the library down for the night “ she chided back at him her tone playful with that hint of her naughty side showing through.

As she had said the words she had plucked the tablet back from his hands and started to saunter off to the library’s check out and returns counter. She even threw an alluring look at him from over her shoulder as she spoke.

The counter sat at the center back of the library and one could look out and see all but one corner of the library and that corner was Mitsunari’s. And wan he was in it he had the full view of the short stacks of books and shelves. Daisy turned her head to that part of the library her lips pressing to gather. And Oh how they puckered into a full plump lip pout that always brought Mitsunari to his knees wan he saw it. Softly he cursed to himself if he didn’t take control over her soon he have to become the brat tamer not his favorite thing to do or at least not what he was thinking for today.

Mitsunari’s footsteps were silent as he moved,  he watched Dazy stop and freeze in her tracks. Once she caught him on the prowl, Oh and prowl he did in a nice circle around her, his gemstone eyes of sparkling purple Sapphire now a dark deep dusky shade of purple showed her  just where his mind was at that moment.

There was a rough gravelly tone to his tenor voice wan he spoke.

“I'm not in the mood for this game today Dazy” he plucked the table from her hands and placed it on the counter his eyes never leaving her as he did so.

Without missing a step even after taking the tablet from her He kept moving around her like a hunter stalking and toying with it pray. Daisy’s blood started pumping and rushing through her veins. the beat of her own heart filed her ears as it began to beat just a little bit faster. Her breathing picked up slightly her breaths becoming just a bit heavier now. She watched him her eyes only ever leaving him when he rounded to her back. Dazy had a small blinded spot she could not see from the ether corner of her eye even if she turned her head.

Oh, and he picked just that spot to stop right at her back. One of his hands reached out with long elegant fingers to brush whisper soft up the back of her neck. His fingers crept their way to her bun. She felt his nimble fingers find the bobby pines and slip theme free. It was only a few pines today seeing as she hand braided her hair and coiled it on her head. She felt his hand working to uncoil the braid of her dark cinnamon locks. if he would have let the braid fall it would have come to just about her waist. Then she felt him wind the braid about his wrist.

She gasped softly as she felt him tug back just a bit. About half of her braid was snaked around Mitsunari wrist and lower arm and she could feel the heaviness of it like a weight drawing her down. As he softly pulled on her hair he spoke by her ear.

“ remember what we talked about a few days ago “  the words where smoothly purred but there was a commanding edge to hem.

Her peridot eyes widened with his words and she had to bit  her lip  from gasping out her excitement  

“yes “ the word was breathy when she spoke  it

“Good “ was all he said as he used her braid to pull her back and to his chest.

Without saying a word his free hand found its way to her waist to take a firm grip on her Then he guided her along to a set of vintage old schoolhouse desks. Once there he sat on the top of one of the desks he pulled her into his lap.

“ you have been bratty today Daisy, “ he said as he let  go of her hair and position her in his lap so that she  was sitting across it

Daisy gave him a pout but that didn't stop him for what he did next he patted what little open space on his lap he had.

“ lay across my lap Daisy on your tummy “  

it was the most commanding Daisy had ever heard that man speak.  un tel now she didn’t know he could muster a look and tone as equal, if not more so than Azuchi houses ver own dictator  Nobunaga. God that man was like Mussolini in the way he ran the towns only boarding house and bed and breakfast.

Daisy was liking this side of Mitsunari it suited him well. SO  she couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice wan she spoke.

“ yes Mr. Ishida as you wish “

She said the words as she laid over his lap,  wiggling her tight nicely rounded backside she could not help being bratty she just had to, her excitement and anticipation were too high. And then she felt his hands sliding up her white, black and red plaid skirt. His hand started that at the hem of her skirt, witched came to just half an inch blew the crook of the back of her knees. Ever so slowly his hand inched its way up to her plump well-shaped backside.  

She giggled softly knowing what was coming she even tried to hide it. She couldn't help it was a nervous habit both her and her sister shared. And that she was nervous with building anticipation. Daisy hand to bite her lower lip to the point she almost drew blood so as not to further make Mr. Ishida think she was just being bratty.

Mitsunari palmed both the cheeks to her firm round ass, kneading each cheek in his hand before pulling it back. There was a loud smack that rang out and echoed off the library walls.  And oh was it a satisfying sound to his ears that good hard smack to Daisy's backside.  the sting in his hand was the most exhilarating strangely erotic sensation he had ever felt.

Daisy gasped as soon as his hand met her well-toned derriere before she felt the sting of it, witch hand her now whimpering softly and wiggling slightly in his lap. It was like her backside was on fire where his hand come down on. It was hot and ohhhh the sting of it hurt so good, it made her toes curl while her tummy fluttered with worm swirls of dark delight. Then she felt another spanking than another and more still, each one with a swift firm hand. And she moaned in lustful delight with every one of theme she even thanked Mr. Ishida wan she could.

Mitsunari blood was pumping with sinful delight from speaking Dazy and his lustfulness showed in his words wan he spoke.

“Stand up Daisy  and face me “ he  commanded of her

“Yes  Mr. Ishida “ she simply stated on a breathy lustful gasp

Daisy did as he asks her to and was now facing him

“good girl “ he purred out “now call me  Professor Ishida until I say otherwise “

Daisy’s peridot green eyes went wide and she made a soft sound as if his very words had given her a small orgasm.

 “ Yes, Professor Ishida” came her words to let him know she was going to comply with the demand.

Mitsunari leaned back slightly his eyes roaming over Dazys lovely shape as he turned the words she just spoke over in his mind. He drank in the sight of her, How her pale cheeks were slightly flush with her hot running passion and desire the rises and fall of her chest in her heated state.

A finger came to his lips and he taped theme in thought  

“On second thought  just call me Professor “ he liked the sound of that more

“and take your blouses off as well it’s hiding what I truly like to see” he added that command to the other one he handed just handed out.

“Yes Professor “ came her words with a sinfully naughty sultry look as she unbuttoned the first button on her red blouse

Mitsunari watched Daisy intently as she oh so painfully slowly worked to undo every button. She stopped every one to give him a coy sultry smile and wan she got the ones that were right in the valley of her overly voluptuous breasts, she stopped to softly push theme to gather. Oh, and one almost popped out they were that large. Daisy and her sister May could put  Dolly Parton to shame, they both were  5 foot nothing like the country singer and built like her tiny little waist and so topheavy you'd think they fall over.

He watched Daisy with great delight as his pants got tighter even with the loose boxes he hand on. Mitsunari hand to undo his belt as well as unbutton his slacks and it still wasn’t enough . in a breath he pulled Daisy to him and stopped her from fully slipping her arms out of her red blouse, which now hung just off her shoulders.

He placed his head in the valley of her breasts and breathed in her he sweet scent. she smelt of amber frankness and Muar and there was a soft rose floral note. he groaned on a breath as he breathed her in. he could not hold out much longer he was already throbbing aching with a carnal need.

Mitsunari took a ragged breath before he feathered kisses on the rounds of her breasts.  His hand came to both her oversized mounds and kneading theme before his finger hungrily pulled back the lacy fabric of her bra to reveal her large erect nipples. greedily he found one and took it into his mouth sucking on it and rolling his tongue over  the stiff nub  

Daisy's hands came to his head her fingers softly gripping at his silvery locks as he worked magic with his mouth on her luscious breasts. And  Oh  God,   he took his time in lavishing her full ripe melons drawing the sweetest and sinfully naughty gaps and moans from her. By the time he came up for air she was clinging to him her fingers so tightly threaded in his locks he knew if he moved from her she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own.

Mitsunari smoothly guided Daisy and laid her out on top of the set of schoolhouse desks. His hands sliding down her ribcage than her hips before he picked up one of her legs and locked it about his waist. With a hot carnal need he pulled her burning heat so tight agents his throbbing member he could feel how wet and ready she was for him even  though her panties  and his boxers

“Good god Daisy “ came his words filed with his passion and burning lust to have her.

He leaned down over her and took her lips in a heated needy kiss stealing any words she was about to say. Mitsunari drank from her lips like a man lost in the desert without water that hand just found an oasis. His tongue darted from his mouth and teased her lips to part so he could plumb it’s depths and coxing her tongue to dances with his. He groaned with delight into her mouth every time her hips would rock and grind agents his rock hard throbbing need, yet he never broke that claiming demanding kiss.

Daisy’s hands worked to pull his light plume color button-down dress shirt free of his slacks.  Mitsunari without breaking the kiss worked his elegant fingers nimbly down the row of buttons to reveal this well-toned chest. By the gods, her hands were like magic as they dance over his pecs and shoulders. Ahww the way her nails raked over his skin or how they bit in leaving little crescent moons on his shoulder blades this only pushed him deeper into sinful wanting.

The power and ferocity in which he kissed her left theme both breathless once he broke it. They both were panting and gasping for air. it was on a long soft moaned  that  dripped from Daisy’s  lips that shot  right through him like a wildfire

“Oh professor” it was just two words but what they did to him and his senses it was Madness and torture all in one. And he was lost in it

In one quick breath, his hands were pushing up her pencil skirt, hiking it all the up to reveal her black lace panties. her breath hitched and back arched when he feather soft, brushed a finger over her heated core through the lacy fabric covering it . and Oh how very very wet with need she was.

“Oh so needy whatever should I do “ came his words that sound more like something Mitsuhide would say, but coming for him they had a more devilishly sinful note to them “whatever you wish professor” Daisy panted out the words which tremble with her state of need.

Then there was that delight full gasp of plusher. God he so loved to hear that gasp from her wan he slipped a finger under the fabric and pushed into her hot wet core. Yes, he took his time in finger her twisting and turning a finger sometimes he added one more just to extract the right sounds from her he wanted to hear. And Oh when she cried out professor and yes he would reward her with teasing kisses on her inner thigh. He took his time in removing her panties before he went to write lyrics of love with mouth and tongue on her hidden pearl and the soft petals of her flowered core.

Daisy’s hips bucked as she found it hard to catch her breath and harder still to form words. Her hands once more found the silvery locks of  Mitsunari’s hair. Her grip on them so tightly she was pulling him closer to her sex she could feel him moan into it. Soon he hand brought her to the edge and sent her over it on a crashing tidal wave.  she cried out in her release praising him and all the gods in the havens.

Mitsunari slowly pulled himself from between her creamy thighs his lips and chin gleaming with her sweet nectar. His eyes were smoldering hot as there bore into her yellow-green hues. With his eyes locked on hers as he licked his fingers clean then his lips.

“My My Daisy you tasted delightful “ came his gravely husky words as he slowly prowled his chest over her exposed breasts.

His hand deftly pulled her panties down as he took her lips in a feverish kiss letting her taste of herself. With one hand he took hold of his throbbing shaft and guided to the opening of her slick wet love tunnel but he didn’t enter her just yet.

“I want to hear you begging me for what you truly want Daisy “ he purred out smoothly his eyes never leaving hers.

“Hnaw” she whimpered as her hips rocked up and pushed agents the  head of his throbbing shaft

“oh for the love of all that's holy fuck me already “her words were labored and spoken with gasping pants showing her eager hungry need to have him take her.

“Is that how you beg Daisy like a shameful slut and wanted whore” his words where a lustful growl as his hand came to her neck.

Mitsunari took hold of her neck his long fingers splayed out over her throat  He didn’t fully choke her but he applied enough pressure to give the feeling of it without cutting off her air supply. The power and control he felt right now were to his liking and he felt his own cock as it throbs in his hand in response. “Please please fuck me Mitsunari “ Daisy begged of him her hips rolling and bucking wildly under him

That was all he needed to hear from her before he barred himself hilt deep in her tight warm wet treasure chest.

Mitsunari took her with a fevered fury pounding in and out of her so fast and hard the desks he hand laid her on rattled and banged agents one another. And oh the things that came from his mouth the words he used he would never in his right mind say or call a lady. But he knew Daisy got off on some of the degrading things he was saying. And never once did his hand leave her throat that gentle but tight hold he had on it a reminder of his establishes dominance in control over her.

He railed here until they both came, and when he did find his release he buried himself so deep into her he knew he had hit her innermost wall.

Daisy arched her back her hips digging into his as her head lolled back she cried out his name with the hardest orgasm she had ever felt. Her hands where clutching tightly to his back and shoulder her nails having dawn blood she had been holding him that tightly. She felt his hand leave her neck and his lips softly kissing where his fingers hand left light red marks.  

It was a long while for both of theme to catch their breath. They both were panting and gasping hard. Every sweet soft kiss Mitsunari left on her came with him gasping for air until his breathing went back to normal.

Mitsunari took his time with some aftercare for Daisy, showing her that sweet loving side of himself that ever one knew so well. That said everyone thought he was.    

--- Hideyoshi hand walked in from the library’s back door to Mitsunari putting his hand on Daisy's neck to the moment the  mild-mannered angle of the group started to railed her like a sadistic spawn of the devil himself

Shock was not the word to describe the thoughts running rampant in Hideyoshi mind. Disbelief. Anger but not at the sweet angel that was now a devil in disguise. Oh no, he was going to have a nice long talk with Mitsuhide about this, then, then he was going to sit Mitsunari down and talk to him. It was a full ten minutes before  Hideyoshi realized he was watching theme like some peeping tom and a bright red blush came to his cheeks as he turned to leave. Thank god, that neither theme didn't hear him come in or leave.

---   At least an hour past as Mitsunari sat on the floor Daisy between his legs, her back pressed to his chest as they cuddled to gather. There clothing was full righted now shirts and blouses all buttoned back up and tucked back into place they exchanged some of the sweetest hugs and kisses before Dazy spoke up

“It’s late and if I know May she going to worried about me”  her words were spoken in her normal sweet soft tone

  Mitsunari nuzzled  the back of her neck “and what if I want you to stay the night “ he asked

Daisy  moved her head to his shoulder and look up to this face “mmm is that an offer form more “ she  asked

He  just chuckled softly as he spoke “and what if it is “

“I'm sold, “ she said with breathy words

The smile he gave  was blinding “ than let me get your coat and my things “

he offered a hand to her as he spoke and helped her to her feet before going to fetch her coat and putting it around her shoulders. He then gathered this briefcase blazer and navy style winter coat

Daisy locked the back door to the Library before taking Mitsunari’s arm and walking home with him for some more after-hours experimenting and fun with him...  

[yukiwrites]

The First of Many

Thank you so much for commissioning me again, @breeachuu! And Happy Birthday, Henry!!

Summary: Unsure of what to give to her human companion for his birthday, Nidra wonders how she could the occasion a special one, and Robin has just the solution...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

The Shepherds had reached a stalemate.

With Walhart out of the way, they could finally focus on gathering all the gemstones needed to complete the Fire Emblem and perform the Awakening ritual. Only one gem was yet to be found, but there were no clues as to where it could be.

Thus, Chrom had a small search party made. Led by Frederick, it was sent them to all corners of the continent to look for clues as to the gemstone's whereabouts.

Apart from the ever-growing threat of Grima looming in over their heads due to Lucina's predictions, the days passed by slowly. They all returned to their duties as though they were back to the short years of peace before the war against Valm.

They difference was that they trained harder, the stiff peaceful air ready to pop into a dark war at any given moment.

It was amidst of this strange atmosphere of a strangled order that Nidra found herself pondering on what to give to Henry for his upcoming birthday.

Human lives were fleeting -- she and her beloved had to make most of every single moment they could, and that, of course, included the special dates. Birthdays, Lovers Days, end of year celebrations, summer and fall solstice as well as its festivals... She would enjoy all of them to the fullest, with Henry by her side.

Still, that didn't make the task of choosing a present simpler. Well-acquainted with the city, the manakete had already procured a very... interesting tome for her beloved, to say the least. According to the seller, and from what she could make out by skimming through it, it was a book depicting unconventional curses. There were one or two that required human sacrifice to work, but most of them were somewhat safe to perform -- and Nidra knew that Henry wouldn't follow through with these, not the Henry she confessed her love to. He changed, little by little, starting to get more in touch with his feelings in an intimate level. This Henry wouldn't suggest a human sacrifice -- at least not in these times of peace (still, might suggest to use an agonizing enemy... or two).

Nevertheless, most of the curses written down in the book were harmless ones: from making flowers sing to changing the coloration of the leaves of a tree to using such leaves as substitutes for another object, for a short period of time. They were fun to prepare as well as to execute, and Nidra knew Henry would invite her to watch it all as soon as he'd get started with them.

She would get to treasure the happiness he'd surely feel from receiving a present to spending even more time with him -- killing two birds with one stone!

... Yet, she felt like she was coming short of something. The present couldn't be better for her beloved, but she had a nagging feeling that she could do more.

Perhaps because it was the first time she was giving a present to someone she had a romantic interest to? Her heart always beat wildly with just the thought of him, and that brought a smile to her face. To think she wasn't alone anymore -- that the gapping loneliness, ever present at the back of her mind, could be dissolved by Henry's very presence.

The way he laughed at his own ridiculous jokes until he set her off as well; the way he hugged her with an urge to never let go, the weight of his feelings pressing Nidra into place; the way he would always intertwine their fingers as they walked, never wanting to break contact with her, or the way he loved to nap beside her under a shade... Everything about him made Nidra want more and more to BE with him.

To never let go.

To embrace him and call him hers.

"What kind of present I could give to make these feelings plain?" She murmured to herself, walking with one hand over her chin.

A familiar chuckle made the manakete lift her head. "Wow, I can almost see the gears in your head turning, Nidra!" Robin approached. "You almost ran into me!"

Nidra narrowed her eyes, seeing her friend take more than five steps to get to where she was -- in the middle of the central garden. "Nonsense, Robin. Are human's eyesight the first part of them to deteriorate with age? Surely you see I'm still far from the path."

The Queen snorted. "You spend so much time with Henry and still can't recognize a joke when you see one, huh?"

"O-oh..." The manakete blushed as her friend approached, finally taking her hands. "I apologize for assuming you were blind, then."

"Hah!" Robin sneered, then chuckled. "Alright, I'll forgive you only if you tell me what's bothering you so much."

Nidra's shoulders sagged, slightly squeezing the Queen's hands. "I can never get anything past you, can I, Robin?" She smiled softly as her friend shook her head.

"Nope. Now, how can I help? It's related to Henry, isn't it?"

"H-how-" The manakete gasped.

"Aha," Robin winked, "so it really was a relationship thing."

"Well," Nidra cleared her throat, lifting her chest as a way to bring her dignity back. "I AM rather new at this, as opposed to you. Three years and counting, hm?" This time, she was the one who winked, making Robin laugh awkwardly.

The Queen scratched the back of her neck, her smile fond. "Yeah, time really flies."

"Indeed. And, exactly because of this, I cannot find myself satisfied with giving Henry simply a book for his birthday. I need every year to be special, so I can carry it all with me for the ages to come..."

"Nidra..." Robin felt the air sullen, quickly placing one hand over her immortal friend's shoulder. "I think you got this slightly wrong, Nidra, though I do get where you're coming from."

The manakete tilted her head to the side. "How so?"

Robin gestured with her chin towards a nearby tree, so they could sit under it. "You see, I can understand the feeling of wanting to one-up yourself every year by making the special date better and better; but that's just gonna tire and stress you out. You WILL run out of ideas one day and will feel disappointed for not making 'a better birthday than the last'," the Queen bobbed her head to the sides. "There's really no need for that."

"..." Nidra frowned slightly, looking to the grass under them.

"Not good, huh?" Robin whispered. "Alright, let me put it this way -- would you like to see Henry stressing himself every year just to make you happy? And see him feel bad for not making the memory you're currently sharing better than another one you've shared before?"

"By Naga, no! Every memory I share with him is unique -- I would not trade them for every treasure in the world!"

Robin pointed to Nidra, who let out a soft gasp. "See? Just spending time together is already more than enough."

"... Truly? But we do that every day..." she trailed off, once again placing a hand over her chin.

"Wellll," the Queen rolled her tongue, a smirk sprouting by the corner of her lips. "There are different kinds of ways to spend time together, hmm?" She elbowed her friend on the ribs, nudging them.

Her head a knot, Nidra simply looked up to Robin, frowning slightly. "What do you-"

"Manakete mating habits?" Robin snorted, then laughed as Nidra's face got increasingly redder.

"Robin!" She hissed, pushing her friend away. "How- shameless-" She cleared her throat, her heart thumping loudly inside her chest.

"Haha!" The Queen laughed through her nose, her body shaking with mirth. "You two ARE together, right? No time like the present to... spice things up!"

Holding back another mock punch, Nidra pressed her lips into a thin line, slightly puffing her cheeks. She could feel the heat overflowing from her cheeks as her shoulders sagged, embarrassment filling her to the point of making her lose the words. "...do?"

Still drying one tear from laughing so much, Robin had to tilt closer to Nidra. "Huh? I didn't catch that."

The manakete cleared her throat loudly. "How did you and Chrom, uh, do? I may have thousands of years, but I never shared my cot with anyone before..."

"Oh, uh," the embarrassment finally caught Robin, making the Queen redden as well. "We, um... Learned together. It most likely was my first time too, and so was his, so, uh, yeah." The silence hanged awkwardly between them for a moment or two. "I'm sure you'll learn together as well."

Nidra felt Robin's pat on her back, suddenly remembering something she saw when she was oh so very young her age could be counted in human years. "... Oh! I know!" She sprung to her feet.

Robin swallowed a very improper question she had in mind, following the manakete up. "Do you have your answer now?"

"I do, friend." Still with her cheeks under an adorable flush, Nidra turned to Robin, her cape fluttering behind her. "I thank you for once again helping me find it."

The Queen received the hug with open arms, happy for alleviating some of the manakete's burdens. "You're welcome, as always."

Smiling, Nidra turned away and ran towards Henry's laboratory, her hands trembling with the prospect of stepping into such a foreign territory.

Still, she would jump into her feelings, as would her human companions.

"Henry? Are you there?" Nidra knocked before opening the door to his laboratory.

"Nidra!" The mage said gleefully, walking around his table to hug his beloved. "I thought you said you'd only come by later? Not complaining, though, nyaha!"

Suddenly, seeing, hearing and touching Henry made Nidra freeze on her spot, the thundering heartbeat her only reminder that she was still alive and was, in fact, hyperventilating.

"Nidra?" Henry poked her cheek, his breathing so very close to hers it made her almost forget how to inhale. "You're so red! Are you boiling? Please don't boil."

"I need... a moment." The manakete finally said, breathing it all out at once as she took a step back.

"Okay!" Henry also took a step away from her, giving her the space to breathe in and out four or five times. "Are-"

Nidra squeezed her eyes, saying it all at once. "Ineedalockofyourhairplease!"

The mage opened and closed his mouth, then widened his thin eyes along with his smile. "ARE YOU GONNA CURSE ME FOR MY BIRTHDAY? OOH BOY!" He jumped, quickly reaching out to his own head and forcefully plucking a lockful of hair. "Here you go! Need more? I can pull-"

"Wait! Don't do it like this!" Worried, Nidra closed both of her hands on his, cupping the already torn hair within. "Silly, you don't need to hurt yourself like this -- you should've cut it."

"Weh? But you want a lock of hair! For-for something! I got too excited to remember knives existed, nyaha!"

Nidra smiled softly, bonking her head on his chin. "Remember it, silly. Don't hurt yourself again, okay?"

"It didn't even hurt, but alllright, if you say so, I won't pull it anymore!" He giggled, quickly disentangling their hands so he could hand her the hair. "I wanna ask what're you gonna do with it, but I also wanna wait for it! What should I do? I'm too excited!!"

The manakete looked to the side, "so am I, but for another reason entirely," she whispered as she carefully adjusted the lock of hair between her hands.

"I diidn't catch that!"

"Ahem," she cleared her throat. "It IS for your birthday, but don't go on getting crazy ideas, okay? I'm not even sure you'll like it..."

"Pah!" He bonked his forehead on hers, with a teensy too much strength than necessary. "I will! I already AM! Sooo, when will you give it to me? Tomorrow's too far!"

"Ouch," Nidra massaged her head with a smile. "Still, wait you shall. I must get to it, now."

As the manakete turned back to the door, a hand on hers made her stop. "No goodbye kiss?" He took one finger to his lips, pouting.

Nidra once again blushed, but this time her heart simply warmed up her chest. "All the kisses for you."

Once night fell, Nidra waited for the moon to reach its peak and ran to the back of the castle, looking over her shoulder as she did. Then, she also cut a small lock of her.

Since the one Henry had given her was long, as long as his entire hair, she neatly braided his silver with her green, a small, insistent smile over her lips.

She then reached to the pouch by her hips and took out two of her own scales -- they were useful to keep around either for Henry's curses or for a handcraft or another -- and placed the braid inside one of them, closing it with the other, as though it were a shell.

Concentrating her powers to her hand instead of her dragonstone, she felt the shadow of her dragon loom over her shoulders, her eyes gleaming in a strong red.

"Hah..." She breathed out once she was done, peeking inside her hands to check if the scales had properly joined one another. "Oh, phew, it worked." Her shoulders sagged. "Alright, now for the most dangerous part."

Carefully did she place the scale-shell on the ground, taking two steps back so she could transform. Magical petals covered her body, revealing her dragon form right after. "I must calculate this carefully," she whispered, her voice echoing through the woods. She inhaled deeply before breathing fire to the scales, focusing on them instead of to the woods in front of her.

It wasn't something new -- to burn only the thing she chose instead of everything her breath touched, but it still required concentration. Her fire was hotter than any man-made blaze, and only it could melt a manakete's scales.

She stopped once enough time had elapsed, quickly turning back to humanoid form to check if she had made it. The grass and trees all around were intact, and that deserved a sigh of relief before she crouched to pick up the scale-shell.

"It's... done!" She marveled. Its shape wasn't anything like a scale anymore -- it shone like a rare gem, its colors a mix of silver and green. Biting her lower lip, Nidra wondered if she would be able to wait for tomorrow to come. "Or, rather, it IS tomorrow already, is it not? The moon is taking its final curve towards the mountains. Soon dawn will break." She chewed on her lower lip. "Besides, Henry isn't one to sleep much..."

The answer was already in her heart, but Nidra felt the need to say it aloud. "I must do this right now." She nodded to herself, clutching the gem into her chest, quickly making her way back to the castle.

Once there, she stopped by her room to fetch the curse book and ran back to Henry's -- to where she and him slept ever since coming back to Ylisse -- excitedly banging the door open.

"Whoa! What a way to wake up!" Henry jumped out of bed, though he hadn't been sleeping if the lit candles around the bed and the book by his hand were anything to go by.

"Haha, I may have let the excitement get over my head; I apologize," Nidra laughed awkwardly, climbing onto the bed. "I just couldn't wait to give you this." She handed him the book.

"Oh?! Is it tomorrow already? Woot! I couldn't sleep because of this!!" He shoved away the book he was reading so he could hold Nidra's with both hands. "Ohhh, it's a curse book!" He flipped the first few pages. "Oh, wow! Wow!" He repeated as he read each curse, his smile so large it mirrored Nidra's. "Thanks, Nidra! That's the best birthday gift I've ever received! Probably the first, but the best, still!"

Nidra scooted closer, taking his hand on hers, making him put the book beside them. "The first of many, many others." She placed her forehead on his, slipping the jewel inside his hand. "Happy birthday, Henry. This-"

Blinking, the dark mage looked at the gem, feeling the magical energy surrounding it. "That's... my magical energy? And yours! They're so neatly intertwined- wait, was the reason you asked for my hair earlier to make this?"

"Sharp as ever, I see." Nidra chuckled, lifting his hand into which lay the gem. "This is a very... traditional manakete jewel. A couple who's ready to have a family wears this publicly to show everyone how they're bound for life."

It took a millisecond for Henry's gears to click in place. "Manaketes wear this to show everyone they're boinking?! Nyaha! What a strange species!!" He clutched the gem into his chest, closing his eyes.

Nidra coughed loudly, "boink-" she snorted.

"But I love it. I love it, so, so much. I think my heart's hurting from how much I love it." He felt his eyes burn with emotion, something still so foreign to him. "How did you make it? I wanna make one for you too -- so everyone can know we're boinking!"

"Enough with the boinking!" Nidra laughed, nudging his shoulder. He let himself be led as she slowly pushed him onto the mattress. "I can show you how to make it, since only manakete breath works for this." She adjusted her legs on either side of his body, her heart thumping inside her chest.

"Oooh, I'm feeling all hot and tingly inside." Henry commented, carefully placing the gem beside the pillow. "I think I don't mind showing everyone I'm feeling like this, nyahaha!"

Nidra placed both locks of hair behind her ears, bending down to kiss her beloved. "Me neither, Henry. I love you so, I want our bond to bear fruit... I want to make a family with you."

"Me too, Nidra! And the process is also something to look forward to." He laughed, caressing his hands through her legs. "Though I have no idea what to do!"

The manakete gurgled a laugh, pressing her lips into his, "me neither, but we can learn together." She whispered, trailing her kisses to his ear, enjoying his breath on hers.

Her body was already going up and down, instinctively knowing what it wanted to do. Henry groped her legs as she unbuttoned his sleeping shirt, his hands doing the same to her corset.

Still unsure of where to touch -- where he WANTED to touch; his mind a jumbling mess as his heart beat so widely it made his hands tremble, Henry observed as Nidra's breasts moved once free from their constriction. They were so wonderfully soft, he wanted to touch them forever.

"Ah...!" Nidra bemoaned as he squeezed her nipple, and boy, did he want to hear that sound again.

Nidra felt him grow under her, her throat going dry immediately.

It was true; her body truly knew what it wanted. She could feel her insides pulsating, calling, begging to have him inside of her. His uncertain hands, his soft and trembling touch, her name leaving his lips through a shallow breath... Everything was so very endearing, Nidra couldn't help but want more.

"I think I want to do this more times. Maybe all night." Henry huffed, helping Nidra out of her shorts. Seeing her naked body made him close one eye in pleasure -- she was so wonderfully beautiful, and her skin almost glowed with the moon and candlelight all around them... it was a picture from another world.

"We barely even started, but I confess I agree." Nidra huffed, amazed at herself for being able to show her naked body so easily. She pulled her beloved's pants down, freeing his erection to the chilly midnight air.

Henry took a deep breath due the contrast of his warmth to the cold air. "I may know what comes next..." He chuckled, placing both hands by Nidra's hips.

Her head spinning as her body clamored for Henry only, Nidra carefully touched on his erection, feeling a spark of energy once she did. She slowly grinded herself over it, biting her lower lip in anticipation.

His glans found its way to Nidra's vaginal opening, feeling it suck him in. "Oh...!" The manakete gasped, feeling him almost ask for entry.

"This-" He gasped as she lowered herself, inserting him little by little.

They moaned in unison as she put it all in, sitting on top of him. Her body trembled, as one single tear fell from her eye.

They were one. They were finally one.

The first step to starting a family had been given, and, by Naga, what a delightful step that was.

She could feel herself closing in around him, just having him inside of her bringing her such immense pleasure. Nidra could barely keep her eyes open, never wanting to move from that spot.

But she did -- and so did he. He helped pull her up and down, both of their bodies working in unison to bring each other pleasure.

The more she took him out of her, the more she wanted him back -- the more friction he felt between them, the more he wanted to ram it all back in.

They were conjoined in body and mind, their desire of simply being in harmony making their bodies shake with their first orgasm. The first of many.

Nidra fell atop of Henry's chest, exhausted. She was used to flying around for days at end, but somehow a single go at this sexual intercourse made her expend THIS much stamina.

They took a few seconds to regain their breath, intertwining their fingers without moving from the position. Feeling him still inside of her made Nidra never want to leave that room.

Once she looked into Henry's eyes, he was crying -- but so was she. "Oh, Henry..." She cupped his face with her hands, reaching in for a kiss.

"I don't think I... I've ever felt so much before." He confessed by her lips. "And I think I like it. I like it very much. When's round two?" He joked, groping at her behind with his free hand.

"Whenever you're ready, my love. For eternity."

[mollymauk-teafleak]

widomauk stuck in a tight space?

My first Widomauk fic! Hope you guys like it, reblog would be awesome if you do!

There were fewer things that ranked higher on the grand List of Things that Make Caleb Widowghast Anxious than tight crowds of people, unfamiliar settings, strangers and loud noise.

Which really begged the question of why he’d ever thought coming to this carnival was a good idea.

It had mostly been for Nott, he knew; wherever she went, he went too and her eyes had lit up in a childlike way he rarely saw these days at the mere mention of it, making this something of an inevitability. But now his friend was a good few packed-far-too-tight bodies away from him, chattering away with or rather, being chattered away at by, the young tiefling girl (Jester, was it? He wasn’t good with names). And Caleb was somehow feeling completely alone in a crowd of people, wishing that their evening had taken a different turn. He kept getting jostled as the crowd seethed and writhed and grew, making him pull his arms tighter and tighter around himself to try and avoid brushing up against anyone. The low lights of the circus tent bred corners full of shadow that would bulge and leap up the fabric walls with the wind, setting him on edge and making him jump. There seemed to be some kind of light smoke in the air, scented and spiced in a way that made Caleb dizzy and his vision fuzzy around the edges. And the music, coming from seemingly nowhere, it pressed on him, promised things to come in low, dramatic tones. He didn’t like that, he didn’t like knowing what was coming. Everything that was making the crowd around him, his companions, coo and gasp with awe, point and grin and elbow each other excitedly, it just made Caleb more and more anxious.

Stop it, he told himself firmly, or at least he tried to sound firm, It’s all an act. It’s just a show. Try and have a normal reaction to something for once.

Itching and worrisome, his fingers pressed against his long duster jacket, finding the hard angles of the books concealed within it. That made Caleb feel a little better, just knowing that they were there. Their stoic firmness and well-worn leather, reminding him that there were things that still made sense to him, even if nothing else seemed to. It was some small comfort.

It would be better if he had his cat, that soft, dusty orange fur to run his fingers over and a low comforting purr to help his jangling nerves, but he knew better than to summon Frumpkin, the poor thing would hate this oppressive, unsettling atmosphere even more than he did.

So Caleb could only close his eyes, bite his lower lip, try and plan some escape route through the crowd and wish fervently that he was somewhere else. Or that he wassomeone else. Someone who wasn’t so…broken.

“Not to tell you how to spend your money, my fine friend,” a smooth, almost liquid voice hummed from beside him, “But it would be a poor thing to pay three coppers to stand in a tent and keep your eyes shut, hmm?”

Caleb tried not to look so rattled as he opened his eyes and saw the purple tielfing from the tavern, the one who’d moved so easily and smiled in a way that had been sticking in his mind ever since. If anything, he’d only gotten more ostentatious since the tavern, with a loose white silk shirt that left even more of his tattoos bare, tight trousers of some kind of dark, shiny material, his thin arms and arched horns dripping with so much gold and so many gemstones that it looked as though he was standing in a rainfall of luxury, simply frozen in time. He hadn’t been standing there when Caleb entered and the crowd had only gotten thicker, but here he was, seamlessly and silently.

His pointed, white teeth showed as he smiled, a smile that had an edge to it that made Caleb feel like he was in on a secret joke between the two of them, “The show is as magical as I promised, you can trust my word. I would hate for you to miss it.”

“Oh,” Caleb found himself scrambling for words, more so than usual, heat creeping up from under his heavy collar. It must be the warmth of the tent. “I…I’m sure it is, uh…”

“Mollymauk,” the tiefling supplied easily, “Molly to my friends.”

Stupid, Caleb cursed himself for forgetting his name. He remembered thinking it sounded like some spell word, some enchantment, how could he have forgotten?

“Forgive me,” he clutched his coat tighter, “I’m Caleb, by the way, Caleb Widowghast. I can’t remember if I said…”

Molly smiled a little wider, a little kinder, “I would never begrudge hearing such a beautiful name again.”

Caleb felt something happen in his chest, some kind of lurch that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. In the next second, he blamed it on the effects of the smoke.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, gruffly, not knowing where to put his eyes, “It…it’s not that I doubt you, I’m sure the show is wonderful, I just…”

“You seem to have been having a rough time of things,” the tiefling tilted his head a little, catching the low light on his horns.

Caleb didn’t really know how to answer that, “Did you…did you see that in your cards or something?”

Mollymauk simply chuckled, a pleasant, friendly sound, “I read people’s faces as well as I do my cards. Your burdens are writ on your face, my friend Caleb Widowghast.”

The wizard started down at his boots, the heat spreading across his cheeks. He hated blushing, with his red hair it made him look like a tomato.

Suddenly, a gentle but insistent hand pushed his chin up, until Molly’s eyes met his own again. Something about the look in them made him pause. As much as he tried to tell himself that this guy was a showman, an actor, as much as some more rational part of his brain was spluttering that he only saw Caleb as a customer, a mark…there was something real in that gaze. Caleb had spent most of his life reading deceit in every act of kindness, painting doubt and uncertainty over any words he was given, and yet even he couldn’t deny what he saw on Mollymauk’s face.

“How about this, Caleb,” Molly said gently, “I’ll stand by you and watch the show with you. I have made some promises to you and your companions, after all, and I intent to see that they are fulfilled…and we’ll see if tonight can’t ease some of those burdens I see in your eyes. Yes?”

Caleb felt his arms drop from where they were tightly wrapped around his chest.

“Alright,” he nodded, standing a little straighter.

The tielfing grinned, pulling back his hand and turning Caleb gently towards the centre of the semi-circle, precisely on time as the music and lights swelled to signal the beginning of the night’s festivities, as if he had planned it.

Despite everything else that happened that evening and the years to follow, Caleb found himself glad that he’d come to the circus.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Festival Wear Me Down (DeanCas Coda to 13x18, AO3 link)

           “He’s where?”

           Cas sighs, turning the laptop around to better show Dean the screen. “In Southern California,” he says, “Or he will be, soon enough. Coachella doesn’t start for another week.”

           Dean looks from the website to his angel, blinking in response. He didn’t understand the words that had left Cas’s mouth. There were no clues as to what a ‘Coachella’ was, only pictures of young adults with too much money and time on their hands.

           “And you’re sure?” Dean asks, “How’d you find this out? Spell? Grace?”

           “No, actually,” Cas starts, tilting his head, “He, uh… he forgot to erase the browser history.”

           “You’re kidding,” Dean says. When his angel doesn’t speak up again, Dean accepts the fact. ‘For someone who doesn’t want to be found,’ Dean thinks, ‘he sure made it easy.’

           “Okay,” Dean says, “So… I take it we’re goin’ to this Coachella thing, right?”

           “It’s why I told you,” Cas says, brow raised, “Common courtesy for when you decide on a plan. I mean – imagine if I had just taken Sam and left you a note?”

           Dean blanches, flinching from Cas’s cool gaze. “Look, I’m sorry alright,” he says, shuffling, “How many times do I have to tell ya?”

           Cas shrugs. “Whenever I actually feel like accepting it.” Dean rolls his eyes, shifting his focus from his angel and back towards the laptop. He leans over and starts scrolling through the page.

           “So, what is this… Coachella?”

           “It appears to be some type of music festival,” Cas joins him, leaning over Dean’s shoulder. His hand rests a little farther up than usual, causing Dean’s skin to darken a shade deeper than regular. “I tried doing research… but the language on the sites I combed through made no sense – even to me. So I was going to call Claire in a bit, see if she could shed some further light on this. She seems to be the correct age as most of the attendees.”

           “This doesn’t look like music, Cas,” Dean grumbles, eyeing the list of acts he stumbled upon, “It just looks like the overproduced garbage that’s popular today… and Beyoncé.” He gapes when he reaches the ticket price. “Holy shit,” he curses, “What the hell?”

           “Yes, my apologies,” Cas says, “One of your credit cards is… no longer usable.” Dean glares at him. His angel doesn’t back down, and they match stares. It goes on longer than a beat, and Dean soon forgets why he locked eyes with Cas to begin with. The ire is replaced with a more familiar, heat. It spreads through Dean’s body.

           ‘I should look away,’ he thinks, ‘But we’ve been doing this for awhile? Maybe say something. Or would that be worse…’

           Sam saves him, the other Winchester walking in and carrying a stack of books. He drops the heavy tomes onto the table, startling the other men out of their spell. Sam squints at their near-identical looks of confusion.

           “What?”

           “No – nothing,” Dean says. He flushes, clears his throat and tears himself away from Cas (‘How close were we even standing?’). “I’m gonna go get ready,” he says, turning tail, “Cas – call Claire. Find out all you can.” Dean doesn’t stick around for a response, rounding the corner and sagging against the corridor. He knocks his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes. The cool stone does its best to cool the heat around his neck, but Dean still feels the hot blue fire of Cas’s eyes on him. As if the angel could see through walls.

           ‘Could he?’

           He distracts himself from those thoughts by listening in on the conversation in the other room.

           “Why do you have to call Claire?”

           “To see if she knows anything about Coachella –“

           “Coachella, why are we going there?”

           “I believe Gabriel will be attending the festivities.”

           “Ah, so we’ll be hunting.”

           “Do you know anything about this event, Sam?”

           “Not a lot,” a beat, “Just enough to know Dean’ll hate it.”

           “You know, I already got that impression.”

           Dean doesn’t wait around after that. Instead he strides back to his room, preferring to drown out the feeling of Sam and Cas talking about him with good music. At least get in some tunes before his ears bleed and he’ll never be able to listen to his songs again. Hopefully they find Gabriel within the first five minutes so he won’t have to suffer. Because between the archangel’s attitude, stuck-up kids with too much time and money on their hands, and the noise… Dean’s not sure he’ll make it out alive.

           “It’s a stupid concert, Dean,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face, “You’ve faced down worst… maybe it’ll be good… maybe you won’t hate it?”

           “I hate it.”

           Dean pulls at the red-and-black poncho, the rough material sticking to his sweaty skin (‘Claire said I had to be shirtless under this thing?’). While focused on his outfit, he doesn’t see Sam sneak up behind and force something on his head. Dean yelps, turning around to stare at a smirking Sam.

           The younger Winchester seems to be in his natural habitat (‘Figures… the hippie.’). His long hair was pulled tight into a bun, a little too close to looking like a unicorn. He was wearing a short, brightly colored tank top and some seriously distressed cut-offs. Claire had sent back hearts when they texted her pictures of Sam’s outfit. Very different from the laughing emojis she used to respond to Dean and Cas’s choices.

           ‘Speaking of Cas…’

           His angel was watching him in fond amusement, eyes shaded nicely by the cap smothering his usually wild hair. Like Dean he, too, is bare-chested – only the front of his overall shorts covered some modesty from the roving eyes of the elder Winchester. That, combined with the heat, means Dean will definitely go through more than one bottle of water. Especially if one of Cas’s nipples slips out – again.

           “What did you put on my head?” Dean asks, snatching the soft hat from its place. He looks it over, frowning, considering it. Usually, he would have just dropped the item to the ground and carried on. But the wide-brim bolero reminded Dean of a modern cowboy – what he had been trying to go for when he chose his clothes. Claire, however, nixed the shirt he bought to wear underneath, so now every time he raised his arms his love handles would peek out. And his boots would have been perfect, too, except…

           “Watch where you’re steppin’,” Dean grumbles, pulling his toes out from under Cas’s shoes, “You can’t just stomp blindly next to a guy in flip flops!”

           “My apologies, Dean,” Cas says, “The line was moving forward.”

           Dean turns away, fixing the hat back onto his head and muttering under his breath, “Stupid teens… why drink so much so early?”

           “Anyway,” Sam cuts in, moving between them, “I think we should go over the game plan now.”

           “Are you sure?” Cas whispers to him, blue eyes darting around the crowd, “In front of all these people?”

           Sam looks around at the same people Cas is cautious about, smirking. “Trust me,” he tells him, “No one will be listening to us. Plus, we’re almost at the entrance. Once we’re in we need to be focused.” He pulls a few things from a small backpack and hands them out to Dean and Cas.

           “So look,” he says, “I was able to make these crystal sensors using some of Gabe’s grace residue as well as a spell from the archives. It should glow the closer we get to him, so keep these around your necks at all times.” The other men slip the leather cords around their necks, Dean fighting with his hat to get it on. “And these,” he continues, handing them handcuffs, “Cas helped me carve the sigils in. Should make it so he can’t fly away or use his grace.”

           “Really?” Dean asks, eyeing the set of cuffs Sam wears like a bracelet, “I just thought you were trying to set a trend?”

           The younger Winchester shrugs, “I made it easy for myself. You’re more than welcome to do the same.”

           “Thanks but no thanks,” Dean says, “I don’t want to look too kinky in public…”

           “Yet you wear that…”

           Dean tries to kick Sam’s shin in retaliation, but only further bruises his foot on Sam’s bony legs. He bites back a curse and just glares at his brother’s proud smirk. Cas, on the other hand, takes the handcuffs and zips them away in his fanny pack. The bright neon thing was as severe and over-the-top as the rainbow bandana Cas tied around his neck.

           “What?” Cas said when picking his accessories out, “I like the colors.”

           “Next!”

           Dean’s thoughts are broken as the attendee calls them forward; he pulls out his phone and flashes the bar code, only blushing slightly as the woman double takes at their appearance. They don’t stand their long, her pushing the trio along and towards her colleagues, who search their bags. Dean got to skip that part, but still had to get scanned. After a few close calls with a handsy guard, Team Free Will had made it into Coachella.

           And they were not impressed.

           “Christ,” Dean mutters, pulling his brim up to scan the crowd, “This does not look like anything I saw in the pictures.”

           Sam claps him on the shoulder, “Instagram is a hell of a drug.”

           “Where do we even begin?” Cas asks. Sam pulls out his phone, and clicks his way towards an image of the grounds. It’s been carved into three distinct areas, highlighted in red, green, and blue.

           “Okay, I’ll take the left,” Sam starts, pointing at the red area. He trails his finger towards the blue, “Cas, you search for him on the right. And Dean –“

           “Will go straight down the middle,” Dean finishes for him, “Got it, captain my captain.” He takes a step as if to start, only pausing when Sam grabs at his wrist. Dean turns and frowns at his brother’s ‘stern’ face.

           “If you see him, don’t engage,” Sam says, “Text us, and be as subtle as possible.”

           A group passes by them, each decked out in outrageous outfits drenched in gemstones and flowers and patterns. Dean shoots Sam a flat look, “I think I won’t be the one standing out here, Sam.” The younger Winchester rolls his eyes, but releases him, turning towards his own path. He watches him disappear into the crowd until even the little bun at the top of his head is out of sight. Dean shifts his eyes to Cas, aware of his angel’s eyes on him.

           “You gonna be good, Cas?” Dean asks, “Do I need to give you ‘the rules’?”

           Cas tilts his head, squinting, “Rules?”

           “Never take a stranger’s food, don’t take any joints from a guy named Don, oh,” Dean smirks, “And if a man says he’s lost his dog – don’t follow him to his van to look for it.” He laughs, but his angel doesn’t seem amused.

           “I can take care of myself, Dean,” he bristles, “And here’s my advice for you: if you think something looks dangerous – don’t go jumping into it without at least telling Sam and I. I’d also ask you to wait but you seem very incapable of that lately.” Dean’s smile falls, the blow landing just under the belt like Cas anticipated. His angel turns on his heel and stalks into another crowd – leaving Dean all alone.

           Dean pouts, but finally moves on from his spot. He doesn’t do well searching for the runaway archangel, however, his mind still reeling around another.

           ‘I can’t believe he’s still mad about this,’ Dean thinks, ‘Doesn’t he realize that if he had come, it would have been worse. Sam would have been left all alone with Asmodeus – Ketch no doubt would have fled at the first sign of smoke. And if he had came with… that bastard would be trapped with no way for us to get to him. Been trapped with angels who would kill him for being kind and humans who would kill him because of who he is! But the worse part… if he had been trapped there, I never would have forgiven myself…’ Dean stops, the thoughts settling at the bottom of his stomach. He thought he’d rid himself of those thoughts before he went into the rift – made peace with his reasoning. His state of mind proving only how wrong Dean was.

           ‘Why can’t he see that I did it to protect him,’ he thinks, ‘He should know!’ But Cas doesn’t know, because then he would have to tell him his thoughts, his arguments, his… feelings. And Dean has been trying (‘I have!’), but it’s not enough. He can see it in Cas’s eyes that his best still leaves his angel with cloudy eyes and a timid smile. If he was any good at that, Cas would know why he couldn’t wait for him because he would know –

           “Excuse me? Can you take our picture?”

           Dean blinks back into himself, looking down at a young woman with loose, blonde curls. She bats her eyes at him and wiggles her phone. He nods, unsure what his voice might sound like. The girl returns to her friends, each striking a different pose. Dean takes a few pictures before handing it back to her. They gather round and flick through the photos and giggling appreciatively, chirping about angles and filters. The original girl steps back up to him, “Hey, these were pretty good. You wanna join our squad?” Her smirk and the way her friends’ eyes are all tearing into him like vultures clues Dean into what they’re really after – and it’s not his photography skills.

           “Sorry, ladies,” Dean says, backing away, “I’m really looking for my friend –“

           “We can help,” she says, stepping closer into his personal space, “Unless… you mean one of us –“

           “You’renotreallymytype,” Dean rushes out, coughing, “Yeah, sorry but I, I have to go.”

           She’s disappointed, but understanding, “Okay. Hope you find your friend then…” Her and her friends leave, Dean sagging with relief.

           ‘You and me both, lady,’ Dean thinks, ‘You and me both.’ He takes a swig of the canteen he wears, strapped to his side, and then one from the flask tucked into his waistband. Hopefully his thoughts stay focused on the mission and don’t drift further down the drain like they were before. Otherwise Dean was going to be parched.

           “Who charges twenty dollars for water?”

           Dean shot the cashier a dirty look and stomped his way off the line – the plastic flapping of his cheap flip-flops making his exit less threatening than he would have liked. He stalked over to a clear patch of dirt and sunk into the grass.

           Above him, the sun was nearly three quarters of the way done with its path. But the late afternoon sunlight was still strong, and the close bodies and the walking only further served to make him lose water rather than retain it. His canteen was bone dry, and his pride kept him from giving in to festival prices.

           ‘We’ve already blown so much of our credit on this hunt,’ Dean thinks, ‘I’m not spending any more unless it’s reasonable.’

           He leans further back, resting his elbows on the ground and stretching out his legs. Dean grimaces at his surroundings. From his place on the ground, he spies all the wonders of ‘Coachella’.

           In clear view of a cluster of port-o-potties, probably over fifty people wait in line for the bathroom. And standing downwind of it, Dean can tell that the outhouses have seen some shit. (‘Pun intended.’) If Dean were a lesser man, he’d find a different spot. But he’s tired, and he’s smelt worse things in his life than kale farts.

           Dean can also make out a few stages, where kids crowd around stringy haired beanpoles that just press a button. These idiots will listen to just about anything – he was sure someone played a yodeler that was remixed to hell and back. And the crowd went wild.

           ‘Maybe we should let Michael loose,’ Dean thinks, glaring at another group of men parading around in short, pastel onesies (‘How do you even pee in that?’).

           Feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket, Dean paused his judgment to check. It was a message from Sam:

           MOOSE: I don’t think I’ve found him yet. But I am having a serious problem blending in.

           Dean, curious, typed back for more info. Sam’s response was a quick picture of at least twenty girls, all discreetly watching him from various angles.

           MOOSE: I have a fan base.

           Dean laughs, typing away probably the most fun he’s had stepping into this place.

           DEAN: Watch out, they might think you’re the new Manson.

           He switches over to Cas’s messages just as Sam shoots him the middle finger. He taps at the buttons, a softer smile overtaking his face as he sends his message.

           DEAN: Any news, Cas?

           It’s awhile before Cas responds. Dean bides his time by searching the web, kicking his flip-flops on and off, and taking pictures of the funniest-looking people for his comedic spank bank. He’s just about to snap a great one of a girl with the president painted lewdly across her chest and back when Cas’s message pops up.

           ANGEL: Thought I saw him, but was just someone else.

           ANGEL: Also it is impolite to ask people if they are porn stars.

           ANGEL: I figured that would help, seeing as Gabriel is most likely where porn stars are.

           ANGEL: I didn’t get any help – all I got were slaps.

           Dean throws his head back and laughs, dropping his phone to his stomach. He laughs so long and hard; his stomach clenches and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Picturing it sends him into an even more intense fit of giggles. Cas walking up to a girl, asking her if she was a porn star, and then getting slapped. Him watching as she storms off, rubbing at his cheek – not to sooth the pain, but to ground his thoughts as he wonders what he did wrong. His big blue eyes turning downward like a dog in an ASPCA commercial.

           ‘I needed that.’

           DEAN: Nothing that exciting on my end. I’ll keep it in mind, though.

           ANGEL: Should we regroup?

           DEAN: Did you ask Sam?

           ANGEL: He agreed. We’re making our way over to your area. Where are you?

           DEAN: Near a few stands and port-o-johns. So, surrounded by crap.

           ANGEL: Hopefully you’ll still be there by the time we get back ;)

           Any and all mirth Dean might have been feeling in the moment dries up like a kiddie pool in the sun. He puts the phone away instead of responding to Cas’s ‘dumb text and damned smirk emoji’. Not even any of the losers that pass him by bring a smile to his face. And he sees some chick wearing the smallest of sunglasses that look as ridiculous as her overly baggy pants.

           Dean tugs the crystal off his neck and holds it up, frowning at the pinkish bauble. For all the hours he’s been here, it hasn’t glowed at all. Only now does it seem to take on a sort of hue, and that’s probably because of how the sun hits it.

           “Water, man?”

           Dean looks up to where a smallish man peers down at him, smiling. His hair is tied up in one long ponytail, and he’s covered in a scraggly beard. The guy must have been out there for a while, his white linen pants clearly dirty and covered in hand prints. Behind him is a small cooler, the words ‘WATER $5’ typed out on a piece of computer paper.

           ‘Sketchy,’ Dean thinks, ‘But probably the cheapest thing I’ll find out here.’ Dean leans just enough to tug his wallet out and slips the man a fiver, happily taking the cool bottle. It slips a bit, the heavy condensation drenching Dean’s palm.

           “You enjoy yourself out here,” the guy waves goodbye, “Don’t take things so seriously!” The little cooler trails sadly behind him as he disappears.

           Dean rolls his eyes, “It sure is…” Dean passes the bottle between his hands for a few seconds before opening it. When he does sip from it, he nearly cries from sweet relief. It was the perfect temperature, although tasted a bit too sweet for water. He didn’t care nor think too closely, instead guzzling the drink as fast as he could until there was nothing left of the plastic.

           He gasps, wiping away the residue near his mouth. The bottle falls to the ground, rolling a bit away. Dean doesn’t care; too sated by how quickly his thirst was quenched.

           ‘It’ll be awhile before they find me,’ Dean thinks, ‘I wonder if that guy could swing back again?’

           Before Dean goes searching, however, he gets distracted. His fingernails start shifting in colors, and his mind wanders as the pink turns to green turns to blue turns to red.

           ‘So pretty…’

           Cas happens upon the brothers in an odd state. Sam is struggling to keep Dean upright, the elder Winchester swinging round and round with glassy eyes and a bright smile on his face.

           “Is everything alright?”

           The brothers turn, and Dean leaps from Sam’s arms towards Cas. The angel catches Dean with a split-second to spare before he could fall to the ground. He notices a few things about Dean. His poncho has twisted itself, exposing more of Dean’s stomach, his jeans have a few new stains on them, and he seems to have lost his flip-flops.

           ‘No wait,’ he thinks, ‘They’re in Sam’s hands.’ Sam walks over, irritation painted clearly across his face. But Sam will have to wait, as Dean bounces up and down in Cas’s arms.

           “Cassss,” Dean slurs, “did’you… d’you know your eyes’s sparkle?”

           “What?”

           “Like sapphires,” Dean gapes at him, stretching his own eyes wide with his fingers, “Really big blue ones. Sparkle and shine… shiny shiny shiny…” he trails off, staring deeper than usual into his eyes. For once, Cas feels uncomfortable. But when he tries to pull away, Dean pitches a whine at the back of his throat, forcing him back.

           “Is he,” Cas starts, “Is he… okay?”

           “Does he look okay?”

           “Good point,” he says, “Do you know what happened?”

           “No,” Sam sighs, walking closer, “When I got here, he was full-on starfish staring up at the sky. When I asked what he was doing, he said he was watching the music –“

           “I was, Ssssammy!” Dean giggles, “It sucks, but it looks so pretty… like Cas’s eyes,” he leans in closer – nose to nose – “Not as pretty, but pretty, y’know?”

           “And then when I tried pulling him up he started flinging his limbs around,” Sam continues, “Trying to dance.”

           “Is he drunk?”

           “No,” Sam sighs, holding another object closer for Cas to inspect, “But I did find this.” He lifts an empty, plastic water bottle – crushed, probably by Dean in his frantic movements – towards Cas. The angel reaches for it, bringing it up to inspect. Cas can’t smell anything in it, so he tries a taste. A single drop snakes its way towards his mouth, and when it touches his tongue, he immediately knows what’s wrong.

           “He’s been drugged,” Cas growls, chucking the bottle away as if he’s been burned, “I could taste it – very close but not exactly like the drug you call ‘lysergic acid diethylamide’.”

           “Lysergic acid…” Sam thinks, groaning when his brain puts it together, “LSD? He took acid?”

           “A very strong dose,” Cas continues, watching Dean as his glazed eyes follow Cas’s lips – probably not understanding a single word, “And he warned me about not taking anything from strangers…”

           “Alright, this is bad…” Sam starts, “We can’t babysit him and search for Gabriel…” Sam looks off into the crowd, then up at the rapidly fading sunlight. Cas knows the younger Winchester is weighing his options – trying to decide between them.

           ‘Too bad we don’t have time for ‘between’,’ Cas sighs, hefting Dean higher up to where he’s almost standing.

           “Sam,” he says, “Go. I’ll look after Dean, you do another quick search – we’ll be here, and I’ll let you know if I see anything.” He doesn’t thank Cas, but his eyes shine with gratitude enough. Sam passes Dean’s shoes to his free hand, and wishes his brother a fond goodbye, like a parent would give their child. The older Winchester nods.

           “G’bye Sammy,” he says, “’N go cut your hair… s’too long… gonna trip over it.” Dean’s hand pets where he thinks Sam hair must be, which ironically is his thigh. Sam sighs and walks away, muttering under his breath.

           Cas turns back to his hunter, “Would you like to sit?” Dean scrunches his face in confusion, the words no doubt fighting for acknowledgment. But it gets across, because he nods before his legs give out beneath him. Cas has to guide him down. They end up sitting very intimately, with him practically cradling Dean, his hunter’s back to his chest. Dean thinks nothing of it, snuggling up against him. Cas wills parts of himself to stay strong.

           “Thanks, Cas…”

           “For what?”

           “For lookin’ after me,” Dean starts, “You’re always ssssoooo good at it… I ‘preciate it, really.”

           A warm smile blossoms on Cas’s face, and he’s glad Dean can’t see the blush slowly creeping up it. “You have no need to thank me, Dean,” Cas says, “I like looking after you.”

           “S’that why you were mad?” he asks, “’Bout me goin’ to th’other world? ‘Cuz you couldn’t look after me?”

           The memory woefully crushes the moment before it could fully bloom. The warmth stops, and is followed by an icy chill at the memories. “No,” Cas sighs, “There was… there was more to it than that…”

           “Oh no,” Dean giggles, “I said somethin’ wrong!” He reaches a hand out, waving it, “Yer wings are all tense… that’s no good. Stupid Dean… always gettin’ yer words wrong.” Cas stares at him, wide-eyed.

           “You can… you can see my wings?”

           “Course,” Dean sighs, “This shit’sposed to ‘open yer mind’ and ‘bring awareness’. Lotsa people see things they shouldn’t see – like around your head.” He twists, craning his neck around to gaze at Cas, “Iss sparkly, but different from your eyes. There ain’t just blue up there… but red, yellow, orange, green, and violet… even indigo! But they said indigo is basically violet, but I don’t buy that. Do you?” He looks back around, playing with his poncho.

           Cas watches Dean, concerned but also amazed. He’s never seen his hunter this innocent, but still so perceptive. It was like he was a child, wide-eyed and saying whatever came to mind. Satisfied with the simplest of things like tassels or the warm weight of Cas behind him.

           “Hey Cas,” Dean starts, “Can I tell you something?” He glances back, “But you gotta promise ta keep it a seeeeeecret!”

           He smiles, “You can tell me anything, Dean –“

           “Promise!”

           “I… I promise.”

           Dean nods, turning his focus back to his clothing. “I think I like you,” he says, “No… that’s wrong. I know I like you… like – a lot a lot.” Cas’s breath hitches, but Dean carries on, “And I’ve been thinkin’ – cause all I can do is think – and I don’t remember ever saying those words aloud: definitely not to you, but also never out loud in general, like when I was by myself. I was always scared I s’posed, but of what? You clearly like me back, other people’s opinions don’t matter ‘cept Sammy’s – and he wouldn’t care – plus, my ol’ man’s not makin’ an appearance anytime soon. He’s too busy fightin’ zombies to come back to life… anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, nothin’s keepin’ us from not being together but… us?”

           “And that’s dumb because we should be happy. Because things work out in the end even if we have to go through a lot. But sometimes places and ideas can be stronger than happy. Like… apocalypse ‘verse. That place is just a void – like… Empty. Here there’s so much life and so much color and voices… over there it’s quiet and gray. And when I think of emptiness, I think of you ‘n’ me. ‘Cuz you were stuck in the Empty, and that’s all I felt when you were gone. It made me feel… icky.” Dean scrunches his face up, turning back to find Cas’s eyes. He twines his fingers with Cas’s. “You stop the ickiness. It’s like, even when you don’t try, your grace just searches for my soul and lights it all up – pulling me into a high of its own. Your star stuff and my salt-o-the-earth soul combine and we climb up – past Heaven to somewhere even greater. And when your gone I’m here… but everything is muted, and I can’t understand why.”

           Cas knows he’s crying. But he doesn’t want this to end – even if this was all a drug-induced state, Dean speaks to Cas’s heart everything he’s been wondering as well. His words soothe the hurt left over from his previous actions, and he understands his hunter a bit more.

           “I don’t think I’m gonna remember any o’this later, Cas,” Dean admits, “Maybe bits ‘n’ pieces… but the fear is still gonna be there. It’s gonna be strong, and it’s gonna hold me back. I can feel them – like chains. They’re slithering like snakes, and usually that should turn any trip into a bad one. But I’m not scared o’them. I’m not scared because you’re here. You broke me free of chains once before and you can do it again.”

           “But that’s so serious,” Dean frowns, “And the guy said I shouldn’t take things so seriously. Which he’s right… that thinkin’ only got me in trouble. Ma and Jack and Charlie and even Ketch need me to keep a levellllll head. Gabriel walkin’ away wasn’t a failure, just a setback. But we’ve handled those in the past… and they only turn into failures when we let them. ‘N we’re too stubborn for that to happen. ‘M not gonna fail anyone ever again… I’m a hero. Billie said so…” He snuggles in deeper to Cas, sinking so his knees rest on Cas’s thighs, hat pushed off his head and into his lap. “’M thirsty again,” he tugs out the crystal that he shoved into his pocket earlier. Dean swings it around, “Wonder where that guy is?”

           “Dean?” Cas asks, “What are you doing?”

           “Last time the guy showed up, this glowed,” Dean giggles, “Pretty sure it did. Wanna see if it does it again.” Cas’s smile falls, and he reaches for Dean’s face, forcing his gaze from the crystal to him.

           “Dean, your crystal – it glowed?”

           “Yeah,” Dean says, “Which was weird… didn’t look like Gabriel. Looked like ev’ryone else here!”

           Cas releases him, letting his hunter play with the crystal, bouncing it from the leather cord and making it dance.

           ‘How much of what he said was true,’ Cas thinks, ‘If he saw the crystal… then he wouldn’t have drank the water. But if that wasn’t… then was anything he said?’ He looks at his hunter once more, taking in his bright eyes and childish laughter and his beautiful freckles. Cas smiles, ‘No… everything he’s said was truthful – his truth. I don’t need to doubt… but I should call Sam.’

           Cas pulls out his phone, calling the other Winchester and filling him in on what Dean told him – well, only the part about Gabriel. Dean starts tossing and turning, going “You promised!” Cas hushes him, covering the mouthpiece, “I’m keeping my promise – everything else stays between us.”

           Dean eyes him for a beat, but shrugs and leans up to pant a kiss on Cas’s jaw. The angel nearly drops his phone. He stutters through the call with Sam, promising to meet him at the gate. Hanging up, Cas stares at Dean. His hunter meets his stare, brow raised.

           “What?”

           “What was that for?”

           “What was what for?”

           “…The kiss.”

           Dean shrugs, “I wanted to kiss you? Not a lot behind kissing someone, Cas. I felt a deep affection for you and wanted to express it. It sucks holding everything in… sometimes you just gotta let the love out…”

           Cas huffs a laugh, agreeing with him. “Come on,” he sighs, “we’ve gotta go.”

           “Nnnnooooo!”

           “Dean,” Cas says, “We need to go. Let you ride the remainder of your induced state somewhere safe.”

           “But you’re here!”

           “And Sam?”

           Dean considers this, tapping his finger to his chin. He sighs, finding no argument with Cas’s logic. Cas watches his hunter pull himself up, like a newborn fawn in springtime. His steps are tentative and light – at times downright skipping – but he makes great time.

           Dean’s hand still glued to Cas’s… that’s a bonus.

           Dean opens a bleary eye, only to scrunch it closed once the sunlight hits. He has a headache, his body hurts, and there’s sand everywhere. “Who put the beach on my bed?” he asks, mouth stuffed with cotton.

           “More like why make your bed… the beach?”

           He startles, gaping at his angel sitting next to him. Cas stares out at the ocean, smiling, still in his outfit from yesterday save the boots that lay on the other side of him. The angel looks away from the water and down at Dean, smiling, “Sleep okay?”

           “I don’t… I don’t remember,” Dean admits, “Anything. What… where are we? Where’s Sam?”

           “Well,” Cas starts, “After we left Coachella, you demanded Sam drive us to the beach. From there, you proceeded to walk in the waves and discuss the importance and the insignificance of a grain of sand. By that point, Sam retired to the Impala.” Cas looks back, smirking. Dean follows his gaze, seeing his brother’s long legs sticking out from the open car door.

           Dean turns back to Cas, “Why would I be talking about sand?”

           “Probably because you were under the influence of drugs my brother tricked you into drinking.”

           The information slowly sinks into Dean’s awareness like quicksand. But the words’ meaning strings together quickly, and the hunter jumps up in fury. “Gabriel roofied me?”

           “No, not Rohypnol,” Cas corrects him, “Sam called it ‘acid’.” The anxiety lessens, but not by much.

           “Of course,” Dean rolls his eyes, “Like that’s so much better. The hippie drug at millennial Woodstock – what could be more fitting?” He plops back onto the sand, breathing his frustration out, digging his toes into the sand and wringing his fingers together.

           “Did I,” Dean starts, quiet, on unsure footing, “Did I do or… or say anything embarrassing?”

           “A few things,” Cas admits, eyes trained on the cresting waves, “But I don’t think anyone noticed or cared. You were one of many under the influence that day.” Dean’s chest sags, spine curving in on himself.

           “D’you… d’you remember anything I said?”

           “Most of it,” Cas smiles, eyes twinkling in the early morning twilight, “But I promised someone I’d keep it a secret…”

           Dean gawks at him. His surprise morphs back into annoyance soon enough, “Cas! Seriously?”

           “What?”

           “Just tell me!”

           “I made a promise –“

           “Obviously to me –“

           “Who said it was to you?”

           “Cas –“ Dean trails off, quieted by Cas leaning forward and planting a quick kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips. He pulls back, frightened and a bit… ‘hopeful?’ He shakes his head, breaking the spell. “What?” he asks, “What was that for?”

           His angel tilts his head, “What was what for?”

           “The kiss!”

           “Ah, the kiss,” Cas smirks, “It was because I was feeling affection for you, and wanted to show it. I believe it was you who told me that we ‘gotta let love out’…” Dean looks down, finding his feet more interesting than the knowing glint in Cas’s eyes. His angel just watches him, Dean can feel his gaze washing over him.

           “So,” Dean clears his throat, “So… Gabe probably high-tailed it out of here… knowing we’re here and all.”

           Cas shrugs, “That he probably did.”

           “Should we… I don’t know,” Dean says, “Go home?”

           “We could,” Cas says, “Or…”

           “Or…?”

           “I mean, those tickets were expensive… and Beyoncé performs tonight,” Cas argues weakly, smiling, “I’m sure spending another day here wouldn’t hurt. In the end everything will work itself out. And as long as we don’t give up… well, I think that gives us the right to enjoy a day off. Don’t you think?”

           Dean should argue with him. Tell Cas he’s crazy if he thinks they deserve a break now when all they should be doing is trying the next generational party or porn convention, searching for Gabriel. That ‘days off’ are for when everyone is back in their own universe with Michael and Lucifer’s charred corpses keeping each other company in a ditch.

           But he doesn’t. Instead, Dean feels a sort of clarity. Like in his drug-addled state, he managed to come to an epiphany – one that he doesn’t remember and Cas won’t tell him. And it should feel weird, not knowing if something life changing happened last night… but he feels better than he ever felt. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s still tripping or because of the way Cas looks at him – Dean assumes the latter because that seems more right.

           Dean claps Cas on the shoulder, “Yeah… yeah, another day won’t kill us. Besides, if Michael does wind up makin’ his way over here, at least I can say I’ve seen her perform live before I die. But…”

           “But…?”

           “Could we sit here a bit longer?” Dean asks him, blushing, “S’nice is all…”

           Cas’s smile grows even fonder. He pulls Dean’s hand off him and holds it in his hands. “I’d love that, Dean.”

           They watch the sun rise, just like that.