#i know the chapter said we can't look too far into the future but this feels so ominous lol

[beldaroot]

the brimhats having their faces covered... coco doomed by the narrative i fear

[aashi-heartfilia]

Deku and Ochako: Two threads running in parallel

MHA has a vibrant cast with each character having its own quirks and perks. We often find ourselves shipping them and rooting for them to become cannon but in the midst of these shipping wars, we often overlook their personal journeys become true heroes.

One such pair is IzuOcha.

People often view it as a straight vanilla ship and ignore everything that makes it special/different from the other so-called vanilla ships. The fact that their journeys were always running in parallel, fighting side by side, inspiring each other in a give and take relationship...but let's start from the very beginning....

.

.

Chapter 3: The first time we meet Ochako, she saves Deku from falling on his two feet. She's nervous, but not as much as Deku. She wishes them both good luck and leaves. Now, this was their first meeting, and this is where their "Do your best" starts.

They both did their best in the exams, where Deku saves Ochako from the giant robot and Ochako in turns saves Deku from falling, like literally saving his life this time around.

Chapter 4: Then, the next time we see her, she was vouching for Deku, even at the cost of her own points. This also parallels her speech later in the manga.

Chapter 7: They enter UA, finally meet each other again, and become friends. In fact, on the very first day, Ochako says that she likes the name Deku, as it kinda gives a "You can do it!" vibe. Another fun thing to note here is that in Japanese she refers to 'gambare' which literally means "Do your best!".

She changes the meaning of his name, from an insult to something inspiring and it might have looked like a comedy gag moment at that time, but when you look at future chapters, it was much more than that.

Chapter 8: The very next chapter, we see Deku facing off Bakugo and saying "He's the Deku who does his best!". And we even see the importance of what Ochako said as she inspired him to do his best. In that test, they both pass with flying colors.

Chapter 22: Then not after too long, we find out about Ochako's motivation to be a hero, which was to earn money so that her parents can have easier lives. Some might say, there are other ways to make money, why choose heroism?

Well, you need to look deeper into the character, especially for someone like Ochako that has layers to her character. She's not someone you can tell by looking at first glance. From outside, she might be all sweet and cherry but from the inside, there's a storm. She has an iron will, and that she depicted again and again, be it her battle with Bakugo in sports fest or her quirk awakening and battle with Toga in the 2nd war. She has always been like that.

On the surface, she presents herself to be your average girl next door, but when you look behind that facade, you'll see a plethora of emotions.

She laughs with everyone but cries alone.

Her crying after Deku leaves (ch 37) or her thoughts about "who saves the heroes", or her "I didn't know the first thing about Toga" thoughts...

She has thoughts and emotions that are deep and not for not everyone can comprehend them. Some people might still see her as nothing more than a blatant love interest but we know that's far from the truth and that's why we'll deep dive into her character a little more.

Ochako has a lot of self-respect >>>

Despite what inspires her to be a hero, she refuses to take help from anyone. This is depicted when she refuses to take help from Deku in the SF. She felt embarrassed when Iida challenged Deku as that made her question her own ideals.

They were all there to become heroes and that makes them all rivals, even if they are friends and thus she challenges him to meet her at the finals.

I think that was a very underrated Ochako moment. (can't present all the pictures because Tumblr only allows less than 10 pics, but you can see it in the collage above)

From the very first day, her "let's do our best!" moment to their battle with Toga in the final war, she has been challenging / inspiring Deku but due to her soft personality, it gets overlooked very often.

It parallels Bakugo in a way and I love the parallels between Bakugo and Ochako but that is for another day.

So it's safe to conclude that just like Bakugo who has been a hardcore rival in power and ideals, Ochako has also been a friend / rival both in terms of power and ideals, although it might be more of her morals that inspire him the most. He even thinks about her in his final battle with Shigaraki, because she was the only one that resonates with his idea of saving villains but more on that later.

Chapter 37: After her loss, Deku goes to check on her and it turns out she was doing fine. She has taken it very positively or so it may seem but as soon as Deku leaves, she starts crying and Deku overhears her. He even feels guilty about not being able to do anything for her.

And that shows you how perceptive Deku really is. He's not some dumb, dense MC that has no clue how others are feeling. He's very sensible and wouldn't cause unnecessary trouble.

Chapter 45: After the sports fest, we see everyone choosing their hero names and Izuku chooses Deku. We even get a reaction panel of both Ochako and Bakugo. Bakugo always looked down on Deku and used it as an insult to call him 'useless' but Ochako changed its meaning to some positive, more meaningful.

Then in the following chapters (ch 46) they both go for their internships where Deku learns to control his 5% from Grand Torino and Ochako learns combat from Gunheads and I might say, IzuOcha might be the only people who learned the most from their internships, lol.

From then onwards, they both continue to grow in terms of power, as the story starts focusing on other characters as well, and we see less of her. Plus, her slight crush starts to develop from that point on, which made most people overlook her entire story.

But let's go over some of the key moments from that time:

Aoyama and Ochako vs 13: Aoyama teases Ochako about Deku, and this might be the first mention of her having a crush on Deku (ch 67)

Izuku encounters Shigaraki at the mall: If it wasn't for Ochako, everyone in the mall, including Deku would have died, making it the 2nd time Ochako saved Deku's life, quite literally (ch 68 and 69)

God knows what would have happened if Ochako didn't come back at the right time. She called the police and alerted everyone. Ochako doesn't get enough credit for her responsible and mature nature.

Chapter 76-77: Deku vs Muscular and Chapter 80: Ochako and Tsuyu vs Toga 1.0 where Deku and gang's interference saved them kinda like how Ochako's presence in the mall saved Deku from Shigaraki, although that was more serious.

Chapter 100: Ochako, Iida and Deku meet Hatsume. Yeah, that iconic encounter that has another parallel.

Chapter 102: Ochako realises her feelings for Deku.

Chapter 105: Deku realises it's not Ochako.

The thing is, Deku knew from the get go that the stranger is not Ochako. He even says "Ochako has been training to use her quirk and now she can float herself for some time, ignoring the side effects. In a situation like this, she wouldn't forget to use it and to reveal herself to the enemy without a plan?"

No, you're not the Uraraka I know.

And that, says volumes out there relationship! Even though, we saw how Ochako had romantic feelings for Deku in the previous chapters, she still kept on improving and Deku acknowledged that!

Even if we don't see him analysing her quirk again and again like Bakugo, he always keeps an eye on her, because note that in the manga, she never specifically tells him about her improvement but he still noticed it!

He knows Ochako enough to know that she's smart and strategic and that she would never reveal herself in front of the enemy without a solid plan. So when he saved Toga (disguised as Ochako) he knew that it wasn't Ochako!

And that's pure respect.

It is one of the examples of "Show, don't tell".

Chapter 107: Ochako quickly followed Deku's idea because she trusts him so much.

Chapter 109: And later, we see her struggling to keep her feelings under check. Because she's so inspired by Deku to do her best, it becomes an internal battle of emotions. At one point, she wants to compete with him, on the other, she has feelings for him that she can't control.

After that, it's a brief period of self-reflection from Ochako. We start seeing her less and less. She gets busy with her internship with Ryukyu and the team and we later see that they help defeat that giant villain in ch 156.

We later see that one of the biggest developments of Ochako comes from ch 163, where she regrets not being able to save Sir Nighteye.

In the class 1a vs 1b arc, she saves Deku when his quirk blackwhip goes haywire. If it wasn't for her quick thinking, again God knows what would have happened.

She may not have numerous power quirks like Deku but she's a capable hero in her own right and that is depicted in the Joint training arc when not only does she save Deku, but also manages to KO 3/5 people in the opponents team (Monoma, Rei, Poltergeist). She was literally the MVP of that arc.

Plus we get to see more of what runs inside her brain. Her ideology about forms the basis for one of the greatest arcs in the story.

"Who saves the heroes when they are in pain?"

After JTA, they again go to their internships and when they come back Deku apologises for what happened during JTA. Note that even though it was never shown, he was still concerned about Ochako.

He was sad that he unknowingly hurt her (much like how he says thank you very later after her speech). But Ochako on the other hand brushes it off, saying it's not a big deal and it inspired her to use wires much like Sero and Deku.

So, we see this relationship of give and take come into play again and again where they both inspire the other to do their best. Then they share a cute fist bump.

On Christmas, out of pure coincidence (wink** wink** Horikoshi) they both receive each other's presents.

Also note that, Ochako gets her hero costume upgraded after JTA, where she starts using those grappling hooks to grab and throw stuff, much like Deku and also attaches tiny rockets in her heels for more mobility.

Plus, that cute tiny pocket where she keeps her AM plushie❤️(that she got as Christmas gift from Deku). I think, after Bakugo and Deku, she has the most useful costume upgrade in the entire class!

Also, when Deku has a battle with Shigaraki in the 1st war, there is an entire chapter dedicated to Ochako vs Toga. Plus, she also gets to witness the aftermath of the war and her face, even now serves as the highlight for that chapter (ch 295).

The ragged blanket of heroism shed that day and what was left was the remains, of what it means to be a hero.

And for someone who was initially there for the money, it is especially important that she gets to witness this. It was the true horrors of hero society. She witnessed all this and still chose to stay in that line of work already says that she is way past her old thinking.

She's not some government agent like Hawks or Nagant or training to become the No 1 hero like Deku, Bakugo or Endeavour. Her life is simple, much like the citizens she saves, but it still matters.

And that's what makes her a People's Hero.

And finally after the first war, Deku leaves UA and Ochako rethinks "Who saves the heroes when they are in need?" and after that point onwards there was no looking back as her character arc takes a great turn!!

We get an entire arc of Dark Deku, indulging more and more into the darkness of his own powers and almost 10 chapters later we see a completely different Ochako.

I still remember people talking about it when ch 319 dropped.

This Ochako is ready to take action and takes shit from no one! One of the greatest character developments if you ask me. Ochako in a way is more like Lucy from Fairytail. Gets ignored most of the time but their moments are just as important.

Even though Deku went around saving people for days, people started viewing him as a villain. Ochako's speech brought him back to being a human.

Not a hero, not a villain, just a human.

And then we see her thinking about Toga, and how she didn't know the first thing about her in ch 342. She had a chat with Deku, where she confided in him. I think that kind of emotional intimacy is what makes their relationship interesting.

Her morals matter a lot to Deku, believe it or not! And that's why when she asks him to leave and take care of Shigaraki in ch 348, he thinks back to this conversation and unwillingly obliges.

Because he has faith in her, the kind that cannot be expressed in words. That comes from a long time understanding of each other...that is beyond comprehension for many people and that's why her "Do your best!" matters because that's what they have been doing since the day they met!

~Sunshine

[sparklingchim]

long way home 26 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

warnings: ... emotions 🫡

summary: the one where decisions are made.

a/n: i can't believe m actually typing this out but we're at the end of lwh !!! thank u to everyone reading this series <3 i love uuuu <3

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The coffee shop is eerily tranquil today. There aren’t many customers.

Only a few people linger at the tables near the windows and a single person stands in line.

The only loud noise comes from your phone pressed to your ear as Seulgi screams and yells at you.

You definitely should have waited until you entered the break room, because you’re afraid Seulgi’s voice is loud enough to hear.

“You promised me you would talk to him!”

You close the door with a push of your palm.

“I know, I’m going to.” You sigh and sit down at the table. “I just don’t know when exactly.” You sound sheepish, a worried crease appearing between your brows.

"Did he text you at all?”

“No. Why would he? I literally kicked him out of my place.”

Seulgi groans at your reminder. “Tell me why you did that again?”

“Seulgi,” you whine. You need her advice. She had already done the scolding part days ago.

“I know, I know – I'm sorry,” she replies, softer now – less accusing.

You fidget with your fingers. “Should I text him?”

“No, that’s not a good approach,” she dismisses.

“At least it’s something,” you retort. You could send him a short message. Though you’re not sure what it would contain. Hi, I'm sorry for making you leave, can we pls pls pls talk I miss you. You grimace. Maybe a call would be more suitable.

“Y/n,” Seulgi says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You know what’s more important than figuring out how to approach a conversation?” She pauses, but you stay silent. “Being ready to tell him the truth.”

You told Seulgi of your feelings for Jungkook the day after he confessed to you. She sat on your couch and watched you intently after you announced in a flustered tone I have to tell you something, right after you had talked about what had happened the day before.

You waited for a reaction, but none came. She had a vacant expression. “I know,” she said then, shrugging nonchalantly. “You think you were being secretive about it?” A puzzled look spread across her face.

You felt your cheeks grow hot.

“Are you?” Seulgi presses.

“Yes. I think I am.”

“Good, because this isn’t gonna fix itself,” she says. “Not unless you finally have the courage to be honest with him.”

She’s right. And even though it’s scary, you have nothing to lose. You have already lost your two favourite people in the world.

“And now go and talk to him.”

“What?” Seulgi can’t possibly mean that.

"Go to his place and have a conversation with him.” As if it were that easy.

“I’m at work, Seulgi.”

“You’re taking a break right now,” she counters.

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” she interjects. “Just go and get your friend back. Or future boyfriend, whatever.” Seulgi is unwavering. But your doubts and hesitations slowly start to fade. “I can’t keep watching you be sad. It breaks my heart,” she adds, in a much smaller voice.

“Seulgi,” you pout. She has seen you at your lowest points, and of course you know that she is compassionate, but when you hear her voice, your throat tightens.

“You’re gonna leave now?” she asks.

It’s a bit hectic and far too spontaneous, but her words have planted determination in your mind. But maybe that is exactly what you need. This way you don’t have time to overthink and come up with possible scenarios that make you doubt everything and give you sleepless nights.

“I am.” You take a look at the clock. You still have time left, but it’s definitely not nearly enough for walking to Jungkook’s apartment and talking to him. You have to do this now. If you postpone it to later, you’re not certain if you still have the bravery to do it.

“The next time you call it better be to tell me that Jungkook is your boyfie.”

You ignore her. “I’m gonna hang up now, I don’t have time. And thank you, really, without you I’d probably never do this.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she says warmly. You wish you could hug her.

After the call you leave the break room. There still aren’t a lot of customers and you’re thankful for that.

“Jimin.” You walk up to him. He’s loading cakes into the display case. He gives you a sweet smile.

“Hey, uh – I kinda have something quick to do,” you start, gauging his reaction. “Do you think you could – It’s just something really important and I don’t know if I can do it later and-”

“It’s okay, y/n,” he interrupts, the smile still on display. “I’ll cover for you, no problem. Do what you have to do, there is no rush.”

He doesn’t ask for a reason. He doesn’t ask how long you’ll be away. He doesn’t ask any questions. You would pull him into a hug if you weren’t in such a hurry.

You tug at the tie of your apron at your back and pull it off your body. Jimin reaches out to you and you hand him your black apron.

“Thank you. I promise I’ll be back soon!”

You don’t know the outcome of this, but you will take the initiative and at least try to make things better than they have been the last couple weeks.

You’re a little hopeful, and you have yet to find out if you are foolish for that.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you rush out of the coffee shop.

~

The walk from the coffee shop to Jungkook’s apartment isn’t that long, but it gives you time to question your choice.

You stand in the elevator of Jungkook’s apartment building, wondering whether you should press the button that will take you back down.

Earlier, a guy walked out of the building when you were about to ring Jungkook’s doorbell. You were able to slip into the building without announcing your presence to Jungkook. You feel more comfortable this way, though your hands start feeling clammy.

The elevator stops at Jungkook’s floor. The steps that lead you to his apartment door are uncertain, ready to turn and sprint down the stairs.

But you didn’t come here just to run away. You want things to be good between Jungkook and you.

You take a deep breath and press the doorbell.

A few seconds pass. Then, the door opens.

Jungkook stands in front of you. His long, dark hair is a fluffy and wavy mess on top of his head, adorned with little wispy flyaways around his face. He’s in casual clothes – black sweatpants combined with an oversized white pullover.

He seems startled to see you.

“Hi,” you say, a little breathless.

“Hi.” His usual mellow lilt carries a rare hesitancy.

“Do you have time to talk?” A lump forms in your throat and you swallow it down.

“Yeah, sure.” He makes room for you to enter and closes the door behind you. You change into a pair of slippers and follow Jungkook to the living room.

“Is Nabi sleeping?” You can’t help but ask. You kind of hoped to see her. You missed her and maybe she could’ve eased your nervousness a little.

“I put her down for a nap a while ago.” Jungkook sits down next to you on the couch, a considerable distance between you. He glances at the clock hanging on the wall. “She should be up soon, though.”

When his eyes draw back to you, you feel a little helpless. You remind yourself of what Seulgi told you. This isn’t gonna fix itself.

After sorting the chaos in your head, you say, “I wanted to apologise for being so selfish all the time.”

Jungkook parts his lips to speak, but you continue before he can say anything. “I’ve never fully tried to look at things from your perspective and narrowed my mind to what I thought was the best solution.” You pull your sleeves over your hands. “It shouldn’t have been that way.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook replies, flashing you a tiny smile that disappears soon after. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have made you leave. That was heedless and inconsiderate of me,” you admit, biting your lip in guilt. “You opened up to me and I didn’t know what to do. There was a lot in my mind, and I just needed some space for a moment – I'm sorry, truly.” You avert your gaze to the carpet. “I honestly didn’t prepare what to say, I just – I left work because I needed to talk to you.”

“Why do you sacrifice so much for me?”

He insinuates more than leaving work in the middle of your shift.

A string tugs at your heart. Jungkook was honest with you, it’s time to be honest with him too – and maybe to yourself as well. It’s time to acknowledge the feelings you hold for him in a hidden little niche of your heart.

It’s difficult to bare that part of you when you’re so used to hiding it.

“Because I love you.”

You said it. And you mean it. Wholeheartedly so.

You can’t foreshadow his response and what will happen, but you’re glad you said it. The relief that courses through you was worth it.

Jungkook’s stare is intense. You don’t know if it’s the intensity of his stare or what you’ve just confessed, but every single bone inside of you feels ignited. You’re burning from the inside with sheer anxiety darting through you, while Jungkook remains silent.

Your words hang in the air, so simple and yet so daunting.

Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow twitches. He opens his mouth but not a single sound passes his lips.

You don’t blame him. Three days ago you shooed him away after he told you the exact same thing. In retrospect, you deeply regret that decision. But at that moment, you were overwhelmed and needed to be alone. Sort your thoughts. And then talk to him again.

You shift in your seat. “Jungkook.” It’s a soft murmur of his name, a trace of pity and urge creeping in your voice.

The spark leaves Jungkook’s eyes and he casts his gaze away. “It doesn’t change that you made me leave. You still don’t want anything to do with me. Right?”

You shake your head vehemently. But he is still not looking at you, so you say, “That’s not true.” You sit closer to him, fingers curling against the fabric of his sweater on his elbow. “That night was overwhelming for me. I made a mistake when I told you to leave, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Doe eyes lock with yours. You realise how much you missed his glimmering eyes that hold the night sky within them. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you back in my life, Jungkook.” His sweater crumples into a tiny ball in your palm. “I missed you.”

His answer is immediate. “I missed you too.”

Your chest feels light. A giddy warmth encloses you like a blanket.

“I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” you say.

“It’s okay. You’ve already apologised.” He looks down at your hand grasping his sweater. You should let go, but even the smallest hint of physical touch feels reassuring.

“I know but I just – I just think we’re equally as responsible for how things have turned out.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, definitely.” With a sigh he leans back. His tatted fingers vanish in his dark hair as he cascades through them.

“I really wanna try this. I want to be with you.”

He unclasps your fingers from his sweater and holds your hand. It’s an innocent, small gesture and still, your skin buzzes with delight.

“Y/n.” The way he whispers your name, tender and careful, as if not to break you. “Don’t you realise how much more you deserve?”

Your brows furrow. “But...” You squeeze his hand. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand.

“I promised myself to get over you after we graduated high school,” you tell. “But that clearly never happened.” Looking at both your hands you feel silly for ever thinking you could suppress your feelings for Jungkook.

“High school?” he inquires.

You feel small beneath his sharp gaze. “Well, yeah.” You shrug. “You’re like. Really pretty.” Heat crawls up into your cheek. “And we hung out like 24/7. It was not that hard to fall for you.”

“I mean, same.” The corner of Jungkook’s mouth tilts upwards.

Your lips form a tiny ‘o’. He has feelings for you since high school? It doesn’t make sense. “But you never shut up about how we’re such good friends,” you accuse him. All these years. And you didn’t know.

“Oh, yeah. That was...” He trails off.

“That was what?” You level him with a raised brow.

You see the struggle in Jungkook’s eyes. You don’t want to push him, but there are no more lies between you, no more secrets and untruths. You want only total honesty from now on.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough. That you deserved more.”

You shake your head in denial. “Why would you ever think that?” The years you spent with him as a teenager are full of happy memories. There were no big fights, and you don’t think you ever said or did something that made him feel that way. He’s been your best friend for so long. You love him just the way he is. “Did I ever make you feel like that?”

“Your father once told me not to try to pursue anything more than friends with you,” he explains hesitantly. “That’s why I’ve always talked about being such good friends.”

“He said what.” You’re stunned. What was your dad thinking?

Jungkook pulls your hands to his lap. “He only meant the best for you at the time.” He remains calm but little bubbles of anger prick at your skin.

“I don’t care what he was thinking.” You scowl, lips drawn into an angry pout. “So you’re telling me that if my dad hadn’t said anything, we would’ve-”

“Don’t get mad now,” he interrupts, an amused smile playing at his lips as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind you ear. “Your dad didn’t have any ill intend. I know we could’ve saved us a lot of time and misunderstandings but looks at us. Years later and we’re still in love. It doesn’t matter if in high school or now. It’s the same love. Just - “Jungkook flashes you a cute smile. “I think the only thing that has changed is that I love you even more.”

You bite down your lip. This. This is all you’ve ever wanted.

“Being apart from you was terrible,” you say, scooting closer to him. “I spent so much time thinking about you, you know that?”

He chuckles. “I think I do. You never leave my mind, y/n.” His hand around yours feels strong, protective.

“Never?” You ask tentatively. Looking at him through your lashes.

“No,” he confirms, a subtle, gentle shake of his head. “Never.”

You’re not even that close to him, but your entire body prickles at the proximity of Jungkook. The weeks without him have made you forget how it feels when you’re with him and now your body reacts to it like anticipating the last book of a fantasy series.

You need him closer than this. And it’s almost as if Jungkook can hear your thoughts, because he lets go of your hand and instead pulls you by your waist into his side. His hand lingers at your waist. And you might just feel like your skin is on fire.

“I like this better.” Jungkook’s voice is low, and so so close, it sends shivers down your spine.

“Me too,” you mumble. You have your chin propped up against his arm, looking at him with a small smile. You grow shy beneath his gaze, and you don’t even know why. “I’ve always wanted this.” You clasp your hands around his arm.

“Good,” Jungkook agrees, voice an octave deeper. Oh. More goose bumps. “Because I’ve always dreamt of this too.”

His other hand comes up to your face. He cups your cheek so delicately, the warmth of his palm is a soothing distraction from your racing heart.

Jungkook’s eyes dart between your eyes and lips, a question floating in the air that he is too afraid to ask.

“Jungkook.” It’s a plea, a request a yes, please kiss me and make me forget the world for just a moment.

Jungkook bends down. Your heart thumps against your chest and when you feel the softest hint of his mouth against yours, it stops beating.

The kiss is brief, gentle. A mere brush of your lips. Your eyes flutter open when Jungkook pulls back again, just the tiniest bit. He gives your waist a squeeze. His lips left a glimmer of tingles on your lips, and you ache for more.

“I spent so long waiting for this moment I was worried fate might never let me have you,” he whispers against your lips.

“You have me, Jungkook.” It leaves your mouth like a promise. “I’m here.”

Your hands loop around his neck and you surge forward, pulling Jungkook into another kiss. He moves his lips against yours in a practiced manner, as though you did that every single day of your lives. Like he is the missing piece of your heart to make you whole again.

Jungkook tugs you closer to him. You raise to your knees and throw a leg over Jungkook’s thigh. He follows your movements with his mouth, the softness in the beginning switching into a frantic, messy kiss.

You sit on his thigh, hands diving into his fluffy hair. You pull at some strands when he bites down your lip, moan into his mouth when he pushes you closer at your lower back and you graze over his thigh. With every sweep of his lips, another broken bone of your body mends.

You never want this moment to end.

You didn’t know you needed this so desperately, but now that you’re in Jungkook’s embrace you never want to let him go. Just you two, forever.

But then a sudden cry blares through the apartment.

Jungkook draws back. His forehead is against yours.

You two need a second to come back to the real world. The afterglow clouds your rational thoughts like the night setting after a beautiful summer day.

Your breathing is laboured, so is Jungkook’s. Your hands slide down to his neck and down to his shoulders.

“Nabi woke up from her nap.” His nose scrunches at Nabi’s wailing. He plants a tiny smooch on your lips, lingering close for a chaste moment before he gets you off his thigh.

You think about waiting until he returns with Nabi, but you can’t wait to see her tiny, bubbly form after so long.

Before Jungkook leaves the room, you scramble to your feet and reach for his hand. “I missed her,” you whine and Jungkook leads you to the nursery with a promising squeeze of his hand.

When you follow Jungkook into Nabi’s room, you take tentative steps towards her crib. Nabi is curled up in her little blankets, her round doe eyes shimmering with tears. Instinctually, you coo at her sight. Your heart softens.

“Wanna hold her?” Jungkook asks. His eyes never left you since you entered the room.

You nod – way too animatedly – and you think you see a smile spreading across Jungkook’s face out of the corner of your eye.

Ever so gently, you swoop Nabi into your embrace. Her little sobs ring throughout the room and nip straight at your heart. “My baby,” you murmur. You rock her in your arms. “I missed you so, so much.” She is wearing her baby bear romper, the material a fuzzy brown with two little bear ears attached to the hood.

Nabi is a small, fluffy bear and you’ve missed this tiny human so enormously.

Her doe eyes – an exact replication of her dad’s – stare up at you. The cries subside into whimpers, her puffy lips trembling.

“Nabi.” Her name bubbles past your lips in a whisper. You brush your knuckle against her doughy cheek. “Do you remember me?” She blinks through her thin, wet eye lashes. Having her in your arms unfolds a gloomy feeling in your chest. Yes, you are happy to see her again, but how were you able to spend more than two weeks without her?

“Are you crying?” Jungkook suddenly asks, stepping forward.

It’s only then you discern the tears pricking your eyes. “No,” you deny, sniffing a little.

A soft chuckle springs from his chest. Jungkook stands behind you, nuzzling his head to the side of your face. His burly arms envelop your waist. “Don’t cry,” he mutters. He faintly nudges your cheek with his nose. “You’ll never be separated from her again.”

“I wouldn’t survive that.” Your lower lip juts out as you’re in awe with Nabi’s cuteness. She has your heart.

“She wouldn’t either,” Jungkook retorts. His hushed timbre so close to your ear is drawing you back to him. You slowly rest your head against his chest. His voice. You could listen to him talk for hours with no end. “Nabi wouldn’t settle for sleep if she didn’t have some of your clothes in her bed.”

With a quick tilt of your head, you glance up at him. And then your eyes travel to Nabi’s crib. You see something in a lavender colour peeking from underneath Nabi’s blanket. A top you must have left here.

You thought you had successfully managed to restrain your tears, but here you are again, with new tears stinging your eyes.

“You can't just say that.” Dolour cloaks your voice. “It’s gonna make me cry.”

“Sweetheart.” He pecks the crown of your head. “It’s okay now.” There’s a hint of amusement swirling in his tone. But his touches on your body are soft, soothing.

Nabi has gone completely silent in your grasp. You boop her nose. A smile unfurls on your face. So little. A broad smile blossoms on Nabi as a reaction, pudgy cheeks scrunching her twinkling eyes. The absolute sweetest giggle sparks from her. Your heart clenches at the sound.

But then your eyes spot her reddened gums and the faint white outlines of her teeth.

You gasp. “She is growing teeth already?” With a swift whirl of your head, you stare at Jungkook, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and she’s been really fussy about it.”

“Oh my God,” you utter, looking at the little baby in your arms who’s growing up too fast. A subliminal melancholy sets in your tummy. “She was just a tiny baby and now she has teeth?” You ask, appalled.

“Not yet,” Jungkook says. “But it doesn’t matter how fast she grows – she will be my little baby forever.” Nabi’s eyes are drawn to Jungkook as he speaks. “Isn’t that right? Hm?” He leans over your shoulder, squishing her doughy cheek with his fingers. Nabi squeals, another smile displayed on her mouth.

You give Jungkook a kiss on his cheek. His eyes are sparkling just like Nabi’s. Jungkook turns his face to you. “And you,” – his lips brush over the corner of your mouth – “You will be my baby forever too.”

You laugh against his mouth.

“What.” He raises his brows, a pleased expression on his face.

“You’re silly.”

“No, I’m not.” He pulls you closer to him. Your back is flush against his lean body.

“I’m just saying the truth.”

“Oh, yeah?” Playfulness flashes in your eyes.

He gives you a firm nod. “Yeah.” Jungkook gently strokes your hair over your shoulder. Your skin tingles when his digits unintendedly skim over your neck.

“Tell me another then.”

“I love you.” He didn’t let a second pass before answering. “I’m so incredibly in love with you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. “I love you.”

His loving eyes bore into your soul. No one has ever looked at you the way Jungkook does. Like you are beautiful, a work of art.

A deep warmth of domesticity floats in the air. It’s a vast contrast to how you have been feeling in the past days.

You share a sweet kiss with him, but it gets quickly disrupted by demanding babbling from beneath you.

"Yes, I love you too, missy,” Jungkook says, brushing her thin hair from her forehead. Her brows are deeply furrowed. He gives her a kiss there. Nabi’s trembling pout changes into a beam. “Always needy of attention, huh?”

“Just like her daddy,” you tease, grinning at Jungkook, before you leave the nursery with Nabi.

Jungkook catches your waist in the hallway. “You’re right,” he admits, a smirk curving his lips. He pulls you into his side as he walks you to the kitchen. “That’s why I don’t wanna spent any second of my life apart from you anymore.” Jungkook pecks your forehead.

A shy smile sets on your mouth. You sir down at the dining table and watch Jungkook opening a cupboard with Nabi’s food.

Nabi has found interest in playing with your hair, occasionally tugging at it.

“Not a single second?” you ask mindlessly, eyes focused on Nabi.

“I’m being serious.” He pops open a jar. “Y’know what.” Jungkook turns around to you. “You should move in with me.”

Your head snaps to him.

You search for a hint that tells you that he doesn’t actually mean it, but Jungkook doesn’t budge.

“I mean it,” he confirms.

“I can’t just move out of my apartment like that,” you reason.

Jungkook shrugs. “Just stay with me.”

It sounds so simple from his lips. And maybe it is. Seulgi has already taught you today the simplicity of just acting without overthinking too much beforehand.

“That way Minjun can’t bother you anymore.” Something flashes in Jungkook’s eyes. “Next time I see him I’m gonna break his neck.”

You ponder for a second. “I mean, I spent most of my time here anyway,” you say. “But lets not rush anything.” You don’t want this to be ruined before it has even properly started.

“Of course, baby.” He turns to the counter again. “Only if you want.”

You watch from behind as he prepares Nabi’s food. The contours of his shoulder muscles flexing with his movements conjure butterflies in your tummy. Hm. Maybe you should consider moving in if this is what you’ll get to see every day.

“Waking up next to you for the rest of my life sounds like a dream, honestly,” Jungkook flirts. You don’t have to see him to know he’s grinning annoyingly.

You’re glad he doesn’t see the way your teeth involuntarily sink into your bottom lip at his teasing voice.

“Your daddy can be insufferable sometimes,” you whisper conspiratorially, looking down at Nabi. She babbles something in return. You giggle and Nabi squeals in delight.

“What are my girls talking about?” Jungkook asks.

“None of your concern.”

You hear him huff. Suddenly, you remember that you left work during your shift. And that you promised Jimin to be back as soon as possible.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. He immediately turns to you. “I have to go back to work. Jimin is covering for me, but I've left him for way too long. I-”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you back.” Jungkook’s calm voice works like a miracle cure for your panic. “I’ll just feed Nabi real quick and then we can leave.”

“You don’t have to. I can walk back.”

“I want to,” Jungkook says. “Besides, we can eat our cookies again. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten one.”

“I haven’t eaten one in so long as well.” The last time was together with Jungkook.

Jungkook blinks perplexed. “How have you survived until now?” He closes the distance between you, the back of his hand against your forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You roll your eyes and swat his arm. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why are you on a cookie diet?”

“Reminded me too much of you,” you mumble.

“Baby,” Jungkook coos. His knuckles trace the skin of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

You grin mischievously. “For the rest of my life?”

“Of course.”

“Daaa,” Nabi gurgles.

“Yes, I’ll buy you as many cookies you want too, once you grow your teeth.”

“That’s gonna be so soon.” You pout.

“We’ll always have time to make a second b-”

“Jungkook hurry.” You push him away. “Poor Jimin is covering for me, and Nabi is gonna starve.”

“Okay, okay,” he replies, though he doesn’t go back until he traps your mouth in a tender kiss. It’s a short kiss, but it messes with every coherent thought in your brain.

You wait for Jungkook to bring Nabi’s warm food. He opens the cutlery drawer and fishes out her tiny, pink spoon.

You smile when you think about the phone call you’re gonna have with Seulgi later. The next time you call it better be to tell me that Jungkook is your boyfie.

The ambiance is cosy – Nabi snuggled up in your arms, Jungkook sending cute smiles your way as he gets her food ready – a feeling of utter contentment that has your whole body at peace.

It’s been a long way to get here, but you finally feel at home.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

OmfffffGGGG the fun I had writing this chapter GUYS—

I mean start to finish, I've been giggling like an idiot the entire mfing TIME

Well, alternating between giggling like an idiot and snickering deviously like a witch huddled over a cauldron but that's neither here nor there

Of course we have banter between Garp's dippy ass and Bogard's far more poised and reasonable demeanor, but also

BUT ALSO—

No

i cannot

I can't spoil it I cannot I will not I must not I shan't it would be positively rude in all honesty i will not—

Just———muffled screaming

Look I'm sorry in advance I had way too much fun with this

even mihawk is done with my shit at this point

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 4 of who even fcking knows at this point honestly, five? Six? Fifty? Whatever just let me vibe

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. Your first recon mission, while more or less a success, left you wounded and your commanding officers more divided than ever over the operation at hand. You have since arrived at Marineford to complete your training for the mission, and gods only know where things might go from here....

Previous chapter, First chapter, Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later Word Count: 4,832

Taglist: @i-am-vita thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me

♫♬Halloween Blues - The Fratellis♬♫

Well, I'm gonna make ya love me, gonna make ya wish that you'd never been born

Now ya wish you'd never met me, I could be the joker that you couldn't shake off

It was agreed upon by all parties involved that not a word would be spoken of your ill-advised “test” at Kuraigana Island to anyone but Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The brunt of the chastisement fell upon Garp and Bogard, as the commanding officers overseeing the mission; and while you were scolded yourself for getting far closer than your orders had suggested you should, you were still commended for providing valuable new information.

The Marines were now aware that Kuraigana Island was home to a population of large primates, of undetermined size or intelligence but with enough intellect to use basic weaponry.

The Marines were also now aware that the presence of Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk on the otherwise abandoned island was confirmed, and that the volatile pirate had most likely set up at least a temporary base amid the desolate castle ruins.

You were permitted to keep in contact with your mother over the following months of your training as promised, with the stipulation that your letters would be screened to ensure you didn’t relay any confidential information to outside parties. As such, you wrote your final letter aboard a small unmarked vessel bound to pass by Kuraigana Island perhaps four months after the first, and had handed it over to Bogard to scan over.

Hi, Mom!

I’m still doing great, I promise. Training has been exhausting but I’ve learned a lot, and it’s been a breath of fresh air to be among people that actually seem to like me. My commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay. I trust them.

This will be the last letter for a while since I’m being deployed. You don’t have to worry, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine, I just won’t be somewhere that I can receive any mail. You can still write me though, and I’ll be able to reply the second I get back to my base. I don’t know exactly how long that will be, but the tentative estimate is two months. It could be sooner, but it could be a little longer.

Love you, and give my love to all our feathery friends.

“Ten minutes out,” said Garp, sitting against the railing with a doughnut hanging out of his mouth as he finished filling out the remainder of the paperwork he had put off until the very last minute.

“‘Commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay,’” Bogard read aloud, lowering your letter to glance down at you with a wry look.

“She’s not wrong, you’re pretty damned irritating,” said Garp. Bogard lowered his eyes to the vice admiral sitting on the deck of the ship, lifting an eyebrow.

Garp only raised his doughnut with a nod and took another bite before returning to his report. Bogard huffed out a sigh and folded the letter, turning his gaze to you as you paced back and forth across the small deck. The vessel was little more than a sloop, designed for no more than one or two people to sail on their own, sturdy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather patterns of the Grand Line but far less advanced than the standard Marine vessel. You barely noticed his gaze upon you, staring down at your feet as you paced, counting the nails in the deck boards in a futile attempt to keep your mind clear from the quickly approaching start of your mission.

You stopped in your tracks the moment Bogard cleared his throat to get your attention, lifting your head sharply and standing at attention.

“A…at ease,” he said slowly, watching you shuffle your feet and fold your hands behind your back. “Your letter will be sent once Garp and myself return to Marineford,” he assured you. “Once you have left this ship, your own contact with the Marines will cease for a period of no less than two months, unless you are forced to make emergency contact. Emergecy contact will only be employed—”

“Under the circumstance that my own life is in immediate and unquestionable danger,” you responded immediately, to which Bogard gave a curt nod.

“Correct,” he agreed. “There will be a covert Marine presence at every island neighboring Kuraigana. Should you require rescue, the closest vessel will be able to arrive within twenty-four hours.”

“She won’t need it,” Garp chimed in through the last bite of his doughnut, and in a rare break of his iron composure, Bogard reached into one of his overcoat pockets and threw a pen at him in response. You watched as Garp caught it and used the implement to sign his name at the bottom of his paperwork before flicking it across the deck of the ship. “Have a little faith, Bogard. We have at our disposal a trained weapon of subterfuge.”

Garp wrapped his hand around the railing behind him and pulled himself to his feet, strolling over to your side and clapping you on the shoulder.

“Trained under our own supervision,” he went on proudly, while Bogard closed his eyes and heaved a slow, impatient sigh, waiting for him to go on. “Who has already provided us with more up-to-date information on the target than anyone else in our ranks—”

“—I’m still not saying your impulsive little test was anything but idiotic—”

“—and humbly declined to take credit for any of it,” Garp went on , ignoring his partner. You jolted as he gave you a sharp pat on the back. “She’ll be just fine. Won’t ya, kid?”

“I’ll—perform my duties as expected of…” You trailed off into a sigh yourself when Garp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” you said stiffly. “I’ll be fine.”

“See? She’ll be fine.”

Garp gave a firm nod, as if your word was more than enough to affirm your fate as solid fact.

And then his brow furrowed as he stared across the deck.

His eyes narrowed into a squint, and he turned his head the slightest bit, his hand lowering from your shoulder and back to his side,

“No…that’s not…”

By the time Bogard turned his head, Garp was already striding across the deck, extending a spyglass as he leaned over the railing and stared through the scope. He gave a growl of annoyance as he held the scope out behind him for Bogard to take. Your heart raced as you slowly crossed the deck to join them, your already thin resolve faltering when Bogard slowly lowered the scope to glance at Garp.

“This changes—”

“It changes nothing,” said Garp, jerking his head to look at Bogard.

You didn’t need the spyglass to see the foggy haze around Kuraigana Island past the railing, no more than you needed it to see the small ship docked near its southern banks. You couldn’t make out much about it, but you could see the one thing that mattered—it flew a black flag.

“Red-Hair,” said Garp. “I knew he’d be trouble. I told Sengoku, I told him—”

“Why the hell would he be here?” Bogard said slowly, looking back out toward the island. He glanced behind him, and held out the spyglass for you to take. You moved to the railing between them, holding it to one eye and shutting the other to look through it at the distant ship. “There’s no chance any information has—”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Garp, as your vision adjusted against the magnification of the lenses. You scanned over the small ship, which appeared to be empty, before lifting your head to focus on its flag—a jolly roger, decorated with a pair of crossed cutlasses and a skull with three slashes across one eye.

“Red-Haired Shanks…?” you said slowly, lowering the scope, glancing between Garp and Bogard as they stared out at the ship. “Ah—three hundred million, two hundred sixty-two thousand berry bounty.”

“Sixty-three,” corrected Bogard absently, glancing at Garp. Garp remained focused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ship, his grip tight around the deck railing. “Vice-Admiral.” He glanced over sharply when Bogard spoke up. “This does change—”

“It changes nothing,” Garp growled firmly.

You didn’t particularly like the way Bogard leaned over the railing, holding his hat in place as he shook his head, staring at Garp with no small degree of trepidation. Your eyes shifted to Garp when he turned around to face you, frowning down at you thoughtfully,

“Or it could change things for the better,” he said slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “Well, lass. This is your call. Seems more than just Mihawk might be docked at the island ahead of us.” You nodded shortly to show you were following, waiting for him to continued. “Not much is known about Shanks as yet…to the masses.”

“Garp—”

Garp held up a hand when Bogard tossed a warning look at him.

“—but I have on good authority that he trained under Gold Roger himself.” Your eyes widened, flickering back toward the ship in question, as Bogard let out a growl of annoyance and stormed back toward the opposite side of the deck. “This is an unexpected turn.” Your gaze shot back toward Garp as he straightened out, folding his hands behind his back and staring down at you. “We can head back toward Marineford and go through all the meticulous to-do’s of officially changing our plans, spend a few more months buried in paperwork, or—”

“I’m going.” He raised his eyebrows, his lips already twitching toward a smile at the firmness of your words. “The Red-Hair pirates would be no more aware of who I am than Mihawk. There’s no point wasting any more time.”

“No, I guess there isn’t,” he agreed, grinning. He cleared his throat, cupping a hand around his mouth and making a show of calling across the small expanse of the deck to Bogard. “You might just be able to gather us a little more intel than we expeced. Hear that, Bogard? No need to delay!”

“No need to pull a muscle patting yourself on the back, either,” Bogard grumbled, just loud enough to ensure Garp heard him.

“Alright, kid,” said Garp, happily ignoring him as he leaned against the side of the railing. “We’ve got under ten minutes, so here’s the rundown.” He turned his head, looking out toward the ship moored just off the edge of the island. “Shanks, as I said. Captain, pupil of Gold Roger himself. Primary weapon is a sabre. Straw hat, bright red hair, difficult to miss. There’s Yasopp, the first man to join his crew, at the time he was regarded as the sharpest shooter in the East Blue. Dark skin, dreadlocks, carries a pair of flintlock pistols.”

“So...that’s his first mate?”

“No.” Your brow furrowed. “That would be Beckman. Dark hair, ponytail, built like a brick shithouse. Carries a flintlock rifle. He’s a damn good shot himself but he’ll use the thing as a club in close quarters. Lucky Roux, the cook, bastard’s probably as wide as he is tall…”

You listened closely to Garp’s continued colorful descriptions of the crew officers of the Red Hair Pirates—and the potential dangers they could pose to your health should anyone discover what you really were.

“Red Hair isn’t the brightest match in the box,” he went on, “but there’s a great deal of evidence that he closely rivals Dracule Mihawk in swordsmanship. Should the two end up fighting, you keep your distance. Otherwise, be exceedingly careful around Benn Beckman. He’s the idiot’s first mate for a reason and probably accounts for ninety percent of the collective brain cells of the entire crew. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him while you keep up your act. There’s no telling why they’re docked here, and it would be in your best interest to figure it out. If they’re going to be around for a while, keep your distance.”

“I...sort of doubt any of them are ornithology experts,” you said, frowning.

“As much as one might doubt that a species of unknown primates could learn to use relatively modern weaponry.” You turned your head sharply at the sound of Bogard’s voice close behind you—you hadn’t heard him cross the deck. Your frown deepened as he gave a pointed glance at the scar spanning nearly the entire length of your right upper arm. Garp, gestured to the other Marine pointedly at his statement, and you couldn’t deny that he had a point either. “You’ll keep your distance. Fooling one pirate alone is going to be a great deal easier and safer than attempting to fool an entire crew of them.” He turned his head to Garp. “This is still the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever had the displeasure of being involved in.”

“Ah, girl’s got her act down fine,” he said dismissively—and Garp wasn’t wrong about that. Your favorite part of your training by far had been simply flying around the massive base at Marineford, taking tally of how many of the staff and officers you could fool. The only individuals privy to the exact nature of your mission were Garp and Bogard, a small selection of admirals and vice admirals, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself. Your performance had been enough to levy a unanimous vote to go forth with the mission. “Your persona, cadet?”

“Gray parrot, previously the pet of a pirate crew that perished in battle, therefore comfortable around pirates in general,” you said. “Able to repeat a number of sounds and phrases that might be heard aboard a ship, capable of learning new phrases and words faster than most other similar species of bird. Particular disdain for Marines and may fly into a frenzy at the sight of their vessels.”

“See?” said Garp, clapping you on the back hard enough that you flinched. “I’d say we’ve got this in the bag.”

Bogard stared between the two of you for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

The final few minutes of the voyage were spent with Garp and Bogard grilling you about the small amount of information known by the Marines about Dracule Mihawk, about the quick briefing you had just received on the Red Hair pirates, about your memorization of the den den mushi numbers you were to contact in the event that your life was in immediate danger or that you found any information useful enough to wrap the operation up early. Garp gave a resolute nod as you neared your destination, around a mile and a half off the shore of Kuraigana Island, and Bogard gave a heavy sigh and a short nod in silent agreement—no matter how little he approved, you were as ready as you were going to be.

“Alright, then, cadet,” said Garp, his wide grin a direct contrast to his partner’s pessimism. “Bird mode, activate.”

“Must you call it that?” said Bogard, tossing a weary look at Garp as you gave a quick salute and immediately shrank down into your devil fruit form on the deck. You fluttered your wings enough to hop up onto the deck railing in front of them, and Bogard frowned down at you. “Best of luck,” he offered. “Should all go according to plan, we’ll see you again in no more than two months.”

He cringed the slightest bit when you raised your wing in another salute, squawking out over Garp’s snort of laughter, “Wind in your sails!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Garp, waving you off. “Now shoo, bird. And no getting yourself killed.”

And once more, you found yourself flying out toward Kuraigana Island.

You made a high pass over the Red Hair’s ship, squinting down toward it as you soared overhead, and the cause of their mooring near the island became quickly clear—it appeared that there was work being performed on a few sizable cannonball holes on the port side of the vessel. You were surprised to see a handful of the crew on the beach near the edge of the forest, seeming to be laughing among themselves and having a grand time, the primates that had attacked you nowhere in sight. Lucky Roux was easy enough to pick out, exactly as Garp had described him—striped shirt and tinted goggles, easily as wide as he was tall, sitting against a tree and taking a bite out of what looked like an entire leg of lamb while another crewmate assisted in bandaging his arm.

Perhaps they had had a run-in with the local apes.

You took that as enough reason to remain vigilant as you flew high over the forest, scanning the treetops below for any signs of movement. It was a relief that there seemed to be none—if the Red Hair pirates had come in contact with the violent creatures, it seemed they had managed to beat them into submission. You considered how Garp had told you that no one had ever entered the island on foot and lived to tell the tale, and it sent a shiver over your spine to think that the crew might be that formidable.

The first signs of movement you witnessed came only once you neared the castle itself, and you nearly faltered in your flight.

Your target was directly below you.

Sitting on a broken piece of stone wall in the courtyard, clad in a white shirt with a ruffled collar and a pair of black pants, his hat sitting to the side next to him, his massive sword lying across his lap as he polished the handle. You slowly, cautiously circled lower, keeping a fair distance, your eyes remaining on the pirate. His mouth seemed to be fixed in a scowl, his posture tense.

You cautiously landed in one of the castle windows several feet away, side-stepping until you were perched in the very corner of the indentation, your gray plumage a perfect camouflage against the rugged stone, and the reason for Mihawk’s clear irritation became immediately evident as the sound of a nonchalant voice tore your gaze away from him.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Hawk-Eye.”

Shanks.

Garp’s description had once again been right on the money—his stringy scarlet hair was capped by a straw-hat, his hands tucked behind his neck as he paced across a pile of rubble that might have once been a wall, a long sabre tucked into his red cloth belt at his right hip. He hopped down to the ground as you watched, resting his elbow on the hilt of the sword as he stared up at the castle. “Be a shame if something happened to it.”

He reached over with his left hand, wrapping it around the handle of the sword, and you tensed immediately, prepared to take flight as he grinned and glanced over at Mihawk.

“Divi—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, his sword extended out at arm’s length, the blade less than an inch away from Shanks’s neck, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing to threatening slits as Shanks lifted his hands up in mock-surrender, still grinning.

“Only kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step back from the edge of the black blade.

Mihawk eyed him with a venomous glare for a few seconds longer before pulling his blade back swiftly to his side and rolling his eyes, a growl of annoyance leaving him as he turned on his heel and stormed back over to the broken wall, sitting down once more. “Remind me of what the hell you’re doing here and precisely why you haven’t left yet?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my friends?” said Shanks, clutching at his chest dramatically in feigned offense. Mihawk ignored the redhead as he sat down heavily on the ground, grabbing a bottle of dark liquor propped up against the pile of rubble and working the cork loose. “Hey, it’s not my fault. This is where the Log pose pointed us. We needed to do a few repairs on the ship. Noticed your old rowboat moored nearby—”

“Rowboat,” Mihawk repeated under his breath, one of his eyes twitching the slightest bit.

“So what’s with the pissed off monkeys, anyway?” said Shanks, nodding toward the forest before taking a swig from the bottle and flicking the cork over his shoulder. “Few of them were damn near as good with a sword as you are.” Mihawk’s eyes shot toward him in a warning glare, and rolled away when Shanks gave a broad grin in response. “Train them yourself?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The humandrills were already quite capable with a variety of weapons when I arrived—”

“Aww, you named them?”

“I discovered the name among the historical documents in castle,” he said through his teeth. “It seems they learned to use weapons by watching their human neighbors before they managed to wipe themselves out. Perhaps,” he went on, before Shanks could speak up again, “your time would better be served overseeing the repairs on your ship so you can leave the moment they’re done.”

“Oh, the repairs are almost finished,” said Shanks, waving a dismissive hand. “Just waiting for the log pose to finish linking up.” He took a sip from his bottle, lifting his eyebrows. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying the company?”

“Oh, yes, immensely,” Mihawk responded dryly.

Your eyes darted between the pair of pirates amid their exchange, keeping yourself perfectly still in the stone windowsill. It was clear that Shanks, at least, was enjoying himself, and that they seemed to have some sort of history between them. It was equally clear that Mihawk would have very much preferred that his company take a long walk off the nearest short pier. He still kept his irritation in check, though whether it was out of any actual sense of camaraderie or he simply didn’t feel like wasting his energy fighting remained unclear.

Their exchange gave you an almost overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and you made a mental note to inform Garp and Bogard of it the next time you saw them.

“Oh, so grumpy,” Shanks commented, leaning back against the rubble behind him, stretching an arm out across one of his knees. “Why don’t you go take a nap, old man? I’m sure there are plenty of beds more than suited for someone of your positively regal manner.” Mihawk went on polishing the golden handle of his sword, not bothering to glance up. “Probably more than enough beds for any number of guests—”

“No,” said Mihawk coolly, still keeping his eyes turned down toward his sword.

“Oh, come on,” Shanks groaned in complaint, laying his head back. His mouth turned down into a despondent sort of pout, tilting his head to look over at the castle—and you tensed immediately, holding your breath, remaining still as a statue. “I’ve never even been in a castle before—”

“No,” Mihawk said again, louder this time, his yellow eyes fixing on Shanks with a firm gaze this time.

“You’re absolutely no fun at all,” Shanks huffed, lifting a small piece of stone from the ground and tossing it in his direction in a half-hearted manner. “You know, you’re going to die sad and alone one day in your desolate castle.”

“And what a peaceful end it will be,” said Mihawk disinterestedly, rolling his eyes back down to the sword across his lap as he buffed a rag across the gleaming blue gem at the end of the hilt.

“But not friendless,” Shanks added, completely ignoring him. He offered another broad grin. “I’ll always be your frien—”

“Would you just go away already?” Mihawksighed wearily, lifting his head and tossing the rag aside. “It’s abundantly clear what you’re attempting to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, and just what am I trying to do?” said Shanks...and he seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, before adding in a cheeky tone, “...friend?”

“You’re fishing for a fight,” said Mihawk, gritting his teeth, briefly gripping the handle of his sword before releasing it from his grasp. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come. On,” Shanks groaned once more, leaning back heavily and pouting. “I’m bored. There’s literally nothing on this damned island except a pile of rocks and a bunch of trees and a particularly nice castle—”

“No.” Shanks gave a huff of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Mihawk. “Go off and play with the other monkeys if you’re so damned bored.”

“They’re already afraid of me,” he huffed, pouting like a child. He brushed a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, turning his gaze out toward the forest. “Stupid apes.” Mihawk only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to the idle task of sword maintenance. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t just slaughter all of them the moment you set foot here.”

“They make for a decent security system,” he said levelly.

“Or you’re secretly just a big softie—”

Shanks straightened out and gave another broad grin when Mihawk tossed a sharp glare at him...and then slumped back down in defeat when his supposed “friend” gave a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sword.

It went on this way for some time—Shanks continually poking and prodding, attempting to annoy Mihawk enough to coax him into a fight; and Mihawk persisting in the task of sword maintenance, running a whetstone across the already razor-sharp edge of the blade as he fought to keep his composure. The entire spectacle was rather like watching an excitable puppy yip at a surly cat.

You shifted your gaze to the edge of the nearby forest when Shanks looked over, the young captain waving once the rustling of the dense leaves gave way to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black shirt, picking leaves out of his ponytail—no doubt Benn Beckman, from the description Garp had offered you. There was indeed a large rifle slung back across one of his shoulders, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Mihawk, before stopping just short of his captain, looking down at him.

“Repairs are finished and the Log Pose’s set,” he said, his brow furrowing when Shanks frowned in clear disappointment. “We getting off of this rock or are you still antagonizing the current inhabitants?”

“I am visiting with a dear old friend,” said Shanks, giving an indignant huff and crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes back over to Mihawk. “Isn’t that right, Hawkie—?”

“Call me that again and you’ll be leaving this island wearing your entrails as necklace,” said Mihawk coolly.

“See?” said Shanks, gesturing toward Mihawk. “We’re just catching up on old times.”

Beckman stared down at his captain for a long moment, frowning, his cigarette smoldering at the corner of his mouth. He finally shook his head and stepped back a couple paces, leaning back against a pile of stones and crossing his arms. “Alright,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Shanks assured him with a positively gleeful grin. He rolled his shoulders and took a drink from the bottle of liquor clenched in his hand, his eyes drifting back over to Mihawk. “Well, it seems our all too pleasant reunion may be drawing to a close, Hawkie—”

Shanks’s grin only widened when Mihawk lifted his gaze to glare at him, his hand gripping tighter around the whetstone.

Shanks seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, pursing his lips to suppress his growing amusement at Mihawk’s growing annoyance, before his expression spread back into a grin as he lifted his eyebrows.

“How about a little kiss goodbye—y’know, between friends and all—”

“That’s it—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, tossing the whetstone away.

Shanks was on his feet just as quickly, a look of absolute glee brightening his features as he drew his sabre.

Beckman took a few casual steps off to the side, pulling his cigarette down from his lips to flick the ashes away, shaking his head, his hand tightening around the butt of his rifle almost imperceptibly.

And you, in spite of yourself, let out a tiny squawk of alarm at the entire spectacle...and quickly realized your mistake.

While Mihawk surged forward with his blade drawn, while Beckman kept his sharp eyes flickering between him and his captain, Shanks’s gaze flickered over toward the sound you had just let out.

And his eyes widened the slightest bit as his eyes met yours.

And he lifted his sword to block what would have been a deadly blow from Mihawk as he continued staring at you as you froze in the windowsill, your feathers ruffling out the slightest bit in response to the terror dawning over you.

Beckman also followed his captain’s gaze, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed your presence.

Shanks drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing even wider, wide as the eyes of a child with a bottomless wallet in a candy shop. One single, almost breathless word left his lips as they spread into a delighted smile:

“Parrot.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First chapter link again, for your convenience

[reeniecon]

- GENERAL LILIA -

" I'm sure you didn't want a monster like me inside your house any longer, right? "

Warning: chapter 7 light spoilers, bad grammar, not proofread, general Lilia, and war lol a little OOC of you squinted.

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

- readers povs -

You can hear it's raining hard outside your cabin, the water droplets one by one crashing to your roof. the weather has been very bad lately it's either raining or thunderstorms. Because of the weather, your garden is not doing very well...

Because of the wind, your fence is falling down. 'oh great' you thought to yourself and went outside to fix it.

while you fix your fallen fence you hear a strange sound and you decide to find out what it is. your eyes widen, shocked by the scene you have encountered

It was a fae... And he was hurt quite badly, it seemed that he had fainted for some time by now.

Without any thought, you brought him inside. Oh, how lucky that he is not too far away from your house and not too heavy....

' oh god, what have I done... Bringing a stranger inside my house, and not only that... He was a fae! ' you thought to yourself and cannot help but sigh at the situation you're in right now.

'but no matter what I have to save him' You're determined to save him, so you clean his wounds and patch them.

Some time has passed since then but the unknown fae haven't woken up, you're quite worried about it...

- Lilia povs -

" Tch, those silver owls didn't know when to stop!" He hissed while running through the deep forest

" CHATCH HIM!! " Silver Owl A says to his teams followed by " That is Lilia vanrouge we have to catch him while we finally get the chance to!!! " They scream.

" Dang it stop being so loud!! " He screams back to them, Lilia can't fight all of them with his injured body not to mention 7 vs 1 is a really bad idea.

" WHERE IS HIM?? " the captain of silver owls screamed.

" AGRHHH!! REALLY WE LOST HIM AGAIN, YOU. FIND HIM NOW! " he ordered his subordinates

" Finally" Lilia mumbled to himself. 'So tired' he thought after that Lilia's vision blurred just like that.

' ugh...the ground is so soft I don't want to leave, huh- THE GROUND ARE SOFT' he processed to wake up from his long sleep, and was startled by his wound had been treated, with caution he observed his body and the surrounding area looking out the glass window he can conclude that he has been not very far away from the last chase, trying to open the windows to escape from whatever situation he was on right now

But he failed miserably in the windows wouldn't open no matter what... He can break it of course but, he cannot break windows that belong to his unknown helper...

The door opened slowly, and there they stood the human that helped him.

" Oh you've finally awakened, do you want soup I just made? I'll get some for you if u want " You told him and asked

In return, Lilia just stared at you observing you from beside the window looking at you up and down ' Oh a human' he thought to himself and smiled

" No, it's okay I'll get going now, thank you for helping me" He replied with a business smile

" Are you sure you didn't want a meal before you go? " You asked once again.

" Yeah I'm sure " He clarify

" I'm sure you didn't want a monster like me inside your house any longer" He said with a mean expression but in a melancholy tone.

"Huh? " Is the only reply that you can utter right now

" I'm sorry that I've troubled you for the past I-don't-know-how-long, but thank you for treating me, and I'm sure that I will pay you back in the future" He stated.

" Mr. Fae? " You called him.

" Yeah? Is my offer too small for you? "

" No no, you don't have to repay me I just wanted to save you that day and I didn't think of any payback from you...And I don't mind having you in my house... Don't worry !! So you can have your soup if you want to? "

His face flushed with embarrassment.

'how can I think it that way!! ' he thought to himself while lowering his head because of the embarrassment he felt...

" Ehem! Sorry for the misunderstanding...and I would like to have dinner with you.. My apologies for thinking bad about you... "

After that, you two have dinner together and you will nonstop hear Lilia apologizing to you the entire evening.

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

An: I'm starting to use Grammarly LMAO I hope my grammar mistakes will be smaller this time hehe

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 13

ISAT Spoilers below!

(The soothing sound of Mirabelle's dramatic reading of one of her books fills your ears. You lie with your head on her lap, eye closed, smiling softly and enjoying the company and sounds. Mirabelle's voice slowly drifts off as she finishes a chapter. You perk up some, opening up your eye to check on her. You're met with a conflicted look plastered across her face.)

"Mira?..."

"Are… Are you sure you're okay Siffrin?…"

"I mean… As much as I can be I guess… You can only be so 'okay' about losing 30 years of your life, right?…"

"… Were… Were you happy? I-I mean I know I said I didn't want spoilers or anything a-and you don't have to tell me anything specific if you don't want because that might mess with the future or the time space whatever it's ca-"

"Mira!" (She jumps a bit as you snap her out of her little freak out spiral. You take her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers before wrapping your other around it as well.)

"I had… One of the best lives anyone could ask for, thanks to all of you… Yeah it's sad that it's kinda gone now but… It's also kinda nice?… To get to experience it all over again, y'know?"

"Siffrin… I can tell something else is bothering you, and I'm honestly more scared about what you're NOT telling us, I mean, how is that not already the big secret?!"

"… Mira, I-I…"

"You promised me Siffrin… It might have been over 30 years ago for you, but it's only been a couple weeks for me. You promised we'd be feelings buddies and we'd talk about this stuff!"

"I know!… I know I promised… But…" (You let out a heavy sigh, letting go of her hand before running yours through your hair, gripping it a bit.)

"It's… It's not just about me this time… It's Loop."

"Loop? What do you mean? D-Did something happen to them?"

"… I-I… Ugh…" (You let out an annoyed groan, sitting up and hugging yourself close.)

"It's… It's not my place to talk about it Mira… As much as I want to, as much as I desperately want to talk and get help about it… It's their secret too, and I can't… I can't make that choice for them."

"… Okay Siffrin… If it's out of respect for keeping their secret, I guess I'll drop it… But if this continues to be an issue I'm going to have to insist about it, okay?"

"… Thanks, Mira… I promise I'll talk about it as soon as I can." (You swear, laying your head onto her shoulder. She follows suit and lays hers against you.)

"Thank you Siffrin, and I'm glad you've told us what you have so far… I'm just worried about you…"

"I know Mira, but I promise, I'm… Well I'm just about as okay as I can be right now, all things considered." (You admit with a slightly nervous chuckle. She responds in kind.)

"I guess that's the best I could ask for at this point... Did you wanna listen to another chapter?"

"Sure! We still gotta get to the part abou-"

"SPOILERS!!!"

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

(You smile softly with your eye closed, sitting on the floor with Mira on the couch above you. Your hair fiddled between her fingers as she was braiding it in places.)

"I've always wanted to do this~!" (Mira practically squeaked out with excitement, so excited to actually get to style your hair for once.)

"Heh, yeah I guess we never used to do this, huh?"

"DO WE DO THIS A LOT IN THE FU-NO WAIT NO SPOILERS!!" (She interrupts her own excited shouting with frantic shouting, making you wince some but chuckle none the less.)

"... So how are you doing Mirabelle?... I know everyone's been worried about me and all but... You all had a lot going on too! I... I feel bad taking up all this emotional space..." (You feel her hands pause for a moment from working through your hair.)

"... I... I guess I haven't really thought about it a lot... that festival was really nice but... It just hasn't actually hit me that it's really over! I keep waiting for it to sink in, for this feeling of accomplishment, for the stress of it all to go away! But it still hasn't! I-I still feel the same as I did, just a little more relieved. I know the King's curse is gone, I know we saved everyone, I know we're 'the saviors'..."

"... But it doesn't feel like you earned it?"

"E-Exactly! I-I... Oh, you said something like that the other day, didn't you?"

"Y-Yeah but... I feel like I screwed everything up at the end there, you all were the ones who actually defeated the king!" (You feel her hands start moving again, going back to braiding your hair.)

"Okay, feelings buddies compromise time! If either of us start to feel like we didn't save the country or deserve the praise, the other has to assure them that they're wrong, deal?"

"... Okay, Deal~."

[agentplutonium]

Hear me out:

Arranged marriage au David & Sweetheart who are absolutely distraught at the idea of marrying a stranger but willing to do it out of duty but then become friends when they realize they don’t actually have to kiss and also… the other’s personal guard is pretty cute (Milo is David’s guard and Angel is Sweetheart’s vv)

I'm finally getting around to this, be grateful (/j)

No, but seriously, I've been thinking about this strand of AU for so long (as Max can attest because he lives with me and therefore is subject to the horrors of my rambling) and I will take this AU to my grave. Moving on, a small snippet based off of this (with the whispers of this being updated in the future/made into a series).

(small note: Sweetheart will be referred to as Culver for the most part, and David will call them Dear/my Heart for appearances. Angel will be referred to as Red for the most part. Of course, the pairings will use the canon nicknames but I have to stretch a few things.)

Pairing: David & Sweetheart, David/Angel, Milo/Sweetheart (technically, they just aren't prominent atm)

WC: 1355

Rating: Gen.

max is talking about this post.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"I cannot believe this is happening," Culver said, stretching out their back. The horse ride wasn't that far, but they hadn't taken a break yet and it's already been a few hours.

"Cheer up, Culver," Red chirped. "I hear that this king-to-be is very handsome."

"You know I've never been one for looks, Red," Culver said, rolling their eyes.

"I also hear that he's a great leader. In nearly every circumstance you two will be perfect for each other," Red said.

"Or, we'll be at each other's throats because we have different opinions," Culver muttered. "Besides, I don't know him! He could be a complete tyrant for all I know," they continued, back at their normal volume.

"Do you really think your parents would do that to you?" Red asked.

"They would send me to someone they thought that I could "fix"," Culver defended. "You know how they are."

"Aye, I do know how they are," Red caved. "I'm sure it will be fine, either way. You're a lovable person. It'll be easy for him to fall in love."

"I don't want him to fall in love after we're married," Culver said, barely keeping the whine out of their tone. "That's cheating. It isn't genuine, it's a forced proximity thing."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you," Red sighed. "But I will always be here to support you, your grace, you know that."

Culver relaxed, a small huff escaping their lips, "And I thank you for that, Red. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Red gave them a wink, turning back to the trail in front of them. As they came up to a bend, Red trotted ahead of Culver to ensure that the coast was clear.

Culver still wasn't looking forward to any of this, though.

~~~

"I can't believe this is happening," David muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt. It was hot outside, too hot to be wearing his full regalia.

"I hear that your betrothed is very good at governing," Milo offered, trying to cheer David up.

"Really?"

Milo shrugged, "It's all I have left. You shot down the fact that they're the handsomest person in their kingdom. You shot down the fact that they were beloved by their people. You shooting down this. I don't know what to tell you that will get you excited for this new chapter in your life," Milo said.

"You're not going to. They're a stranger. The only reason I'm going along with it is because it would be stupid to turn down such a powerful alliance."

"Well, the good news is, once the wedding is over, you don't have to interact with them outside of publicity events," Milo offered. "Or, you fall in love with them after the wedding."

"That's superficial," David grumbled. "How do I know if I really love them or if it's just because they're here?"

Milo shrugged. "Only so much I can do, boss," he said.

A guard signalled the arrival of someone at the gate, and before David knew it, two horses were trotting down the path. David took a deep breath.

"Here we go," he muttered.

One thing is for sure, the rumours about their beauty weren't a lie. The royal was very attractive. It didn't make David feel any better about this arrangement. They slipped off the back of their horse, assisted by their knight. They approached, smile on their face. once they were a few feet away, they bowed.

"Your Majesty," they said. David approached as they straightened. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," David said, bending to kiss their hand. "Please, come inside, my dad will be pleased to meet you."

Culver accepted, taking David's outstretched arm, interlinking them. David led them into the castle, followed by the two knights. Culver kept their eyes dutifully forward. David half wondered to himself what their intentions were. Were they excited for this? Did they have any plans? What did they know? How much power were they looking for?

Gabe was in the study, as he knew he would be. He always was here when they were expecting guests. He said that it made people feel more comfortable, and he got better arrangments out of it. It was in this room that it was decided he was to marry this stranger. David wondered just how much good luck it actually brought.

The conversation with his dad went off without a hitch. Culver was a hit with him, making him laugh and smile. His parents loved them. They seemed to know exactly what to say, and knew how to correct their mistakes (which were few and far between). David had no doubt they were a beast in political settings, getting what they wanted in the most efficient way possible.

Eventually, his dad excused himself.

"I should leave you two alone to get to know each other," his father said. "I should check up on your welcome dinner, anyway. Only the best for my son's spouse."

"Dad," David muttered.

"I'll see you two later," Gabe cut him off before leaving.

Culver seemed to deflate the second that the knights closed the door behind him. David was surprised, to say the least.

"Listen," they started, rubbing at their eyes, "I'm sure you're a nice guy, but you have to know."

"Know what?" David asked, shifting in his chair.

Culver took a deep breath. "I don't want to marry you. I never had any interest in marrying you, I just know that this will help my people. That's the only reason I'm here."

David felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank god," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" Culver asked.

"I'm so glad we're on the same page about this," David said. "I admire you being upfront about this."

"What else was I going to do? Lie? I only lie if I need to," Culver said. "It wouldn't benefit me to lie to you now. Especially since I was under the impression you wanted this."

"No, not at all," David said. "I was told that you were the one with the idea, actually."

"You're kidding," Culver said. "Is that what my parents said? No surprise, I guess, but still. Lord, cannot believe they would lie like that."

"So you don't want to get married to me?" David asked.

"Not at all," Sweetheart assured. "I'd much rather be running my own kingdom right about now, but this was the best thing to happen to my kingdom since I was young. This contract will be promising to my people."

David felt a smile creeping across his face. "That's how I feel, as well."

"That... was surprisingly easy," Culver said. "You're really okay with me having no interest in you whatsoever?"

"Absolutely," David said. "So long as you agree to keep up appearances and not fuck over me or my kingdom."

Culver chuckled, and it didn't sound at all like how they laughed before. Was David close to hearing what their real laugh sounded like? "Well, I definitely don't have plans for fucking you over. I'll keep up appearances if it means that I'll have my parents off my back, among other things."

"Well, good," David said, nodding.

There was a knock at the door, and then Milo was poking his head in. "Sir, you're being summoned by your father."

"I'll be right out," David said. "In the meantime, show Culver and their knight to their rooms, please?"

"Right away, sir."

David stood up, holding his hand out to Culver. They took it, standing up themselves. "I will see you at dinner," David said.

"Yes you will," Culver smiled. They were ushered out of the room by their knight.

David followed after a moment, Milo holding the door open. Once he was out, Milo shot him a look before leading the other two down the hall. Culver turned slightly to wave at him, that smile still there.

Perhaps this could work out, David thought, since they were already so in sync. Maybe they could be friends after all of this.

Only time would tell, he guessed.

[onequeerhuman]

Ah, the opportunities (and the tension) pt.3-the end… for now

(for music, i listened to liquid smooth by mitski while writing this :)

larissa weems x oc!reader, fluff with tension

light descriptions of body (mention of feminine clothes, descriptions of fae form matching those of a dryad, etc.)

chapter specific warnings: talk of mates, talk of different cultures and less-than-good morals (faeries are morally grey creatures), light power imbalance, beginnings of smut/ implied future smut. —lmk if i missed something!

“so…..is there any other questions i can answer?” You ask larissa, lightly bemused at her childlike staring.

Weems snaps out of her daze, her cheeks flushing slightly at being caught staring in childlike wonder. She shakes her head softly, her eyes roaming over you once more before she speaks.

"I... have so many questions," she admits quietly. Taking a deep breath, she collects her thoughts, trying to sort through the multitude of inquiries in her mind.

"How... how old are you, if I may ask?"

tilting your head you ask back “it was in my resume which i’m sure you read before hiring me— oh. or do you mean my actual age in human years?

Weems nods slowly, taking a moment to recall your resume. It had been quite a while since she had even looked at it, but she still tries to recall the details.

"I suppose I was asking for your 'true' age... if that makes any sense," she says softly, her eyes still roving over your form, taking in every detail.

You snort, bemused, before answering “well, as my race is immortal, please don’t be too shocked, but i’m 834 human years- which is basically… 35? i guess? so that’s what i put on my resume…. but dont worry dear, i’m actually quite a bit older than YOU.” smirking at her, happy

Weems's eyes widen at your answer, her heart skipping a beat at the revelation.

"834 years old..." she whispers faintly, her mind trying to process the concept of such a long lifespan. And when you smirk at her, saying you're quite a bit older, her face flushes slightly, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Is... that so?" she asks quietly, a hint of curiosity in her voice, a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“hmmmn…” you say as you walk towards her “actually, a small known fact about us, is that once we find our mates, if they’re of a different race, they stop aging entirely… until we die, of course- and then the aging process returns…..” You tell her, a tad bit sad looking off, reminiscent on some of the mated pairs you once knew.

Weems's heart flutters as you walk towards her, her eyes following your movements. Her breath hitches in her throat as you explain the small fact about your race, her mind trying to wrap around the concept of eternal youth.

"Your... mates…" she whispers, absorbing every word. But as your gaze turns sad, her heart constricts in her chest, and she can't help but ask, “Have you... lost a mate before?"

You smile at her “oh, no- i’ve not found mine yet… but i know those who have. it’s never fun, especially once you’re forced to witness the rapid decline in the health of someone you once knew as happy and alive…”

Weems's heart swells as you smile, though it saddens a bit at the mention of your lack of a mate. She nods slowly when you speak of those you know who lost their mates, a pang of empathy running through her.

"It… sounds like a bittersweet curse," she says softly, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and understanding. She watches you for a moment, her eyes tracing over your features, before speaking again.

"And do you... have an idea of who your mate might potentially be?"

Shrugging, you answer her question “not… exactly. but, there’s this thing- called the tether. it’s said that once we reach the age of maturity, we’ll have an inexplicable urge to travel somewhere, it may be close, it may be far… but supposedly we’ll feel a sense of contentment once we reach that place… and then we’ll know for certain that our mate is nearby, somewhere close. the task of figuring out who, exactly, your mate is, though, is unfortunately up to the fae themselves”

Weems listens intently as you explain the concept of the 'tether' to her, her brow furried as she takes in the information. She can't help but find a small sense of romance in the idea of a drawn-out search for a destined mate, and a soft smile forms on her face as she imagines the journey to reach that point.

"So it's a sort of... intuition, then?" she asks, tilting her head slightly. “A tugging at your soul, perhaps?"

Nodding, you tell her the truth “yes- it’s as if you become super excited to travel somewhere— where you do not know, so you just follow your soul. and once you reach it, the excitement melts into contentment and longing, until you find your mate. i’m actually from the coast of ireland, but i’ve made my way here, to Jericho… though i still have not found my mate and it’s been over a year since my arrival. really not that long but it’s still aggravating. my emotions get stronger by the day.

Weems listens intently, captivated by the mystery and romance of the concept. She leans forward slightly as you explain that your emotions get stronger by the day, a hint of curiosity sparkling in her eyes. She purses her lips gently as a thought crosses her mind.

She takes a moment, contemplating whether or not to voice her curiosity, before she finally speaks up, her voice soft and measured.

"And... when you say 'stronger'... exactly how so?"

You cough as heat rises in your face “well, for one, the push to find my love grows, my anger at not having found her grows as well as my urgency *to* find her and..uhhmn… how do i put this while remaining appropriate….” trailing off, the heat climbs up your neck and covering your cheeks

Weems takes note of the way your blush grows as you speak, and her own cheeks tinge with a soft pink hue. Her heart thumps in her chest as her mind races to fill in the blank you left.

She gazes at you intently, her curiosity piqued as she waits silently for you to elaborate, the implications of your words echoing in her mind.

“…lets just say, i can’t- uhmn… *you know*, without her.” your blush attacking your face furiously now as you turn away, unable to make eyecontact as your rub at your neck awkwardly.

Weems's face also blushes furiously at your insinuation, her heart rate increasing with the admission. Her mind conjures the very intimate image the implication creates, and suddenly she knows exactly the effect your emotions have had on you. Her own heart races in her chest, and she can't help but admire how absolutely adorable the bashful yet nervous fae before her appears, looking away to avoid eye contact.

She can't help but want to reassure you, to comfort you, and before she can think her next words through, she speaks them.

"I... I understand."

“thanks, yeah… little bit not fun. for me, anyways… i’m sure all the people i’ve slept with had fun” You may roll your eyes, but internally strangely content to finally having the confidence to tell larissa, you look back towards her.

Weems can’t help the small chuckle that escapes her when you roll her eyes and make the comment, her heart thudding a bit faster at the sight of your returned gaze. She bites down on her bottom lip softly for a moment, before speaking again, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

"This... may be a slightly too personal question, but... how many, exactly? If you don’t mind my asking…"

“well, how many i’ve fucked total? or humans? or.. in jericho?”

Weems's breath hitches slightly at your bluntness, but she manages to maintain her composure, albeit her cheeks are still dusted pink. She takes a moment to consider your question before answering, her words soft but measured.

"Let's start with... ever?"

“mmmn…. okay, please remember this has been over the span of 600 years, but 83.”

Weems can’t help the sudden surprise that shows on her face at the number, her eyes widening only slightly as she registers the fact that you’ve been with 83 people. Her mind stutters for a moment as her imagination briefly runs away with the number, but she shakes her head gently, bringing herself back to the moment at hand.

“Oh my…” is all she says, but her next question is spoken with a touch of curiosity, a hint of surprise still present. “And… how many here in Jericho?”

“….22. although, in my defence, the only way to find your mate is to sleep with them…” you shrug, once again slightly embarrassed of the reality of sleeping with 22 people in a mere year.

Weems can’t help the pang of jealousy that flashes through her veins at the mention of the number for Jericho alone, though she tries to tamper it down immediately, knowing full well she has no right to be envious. She takes a moment to collect herself, her thoughts running a mile a minute again.

"I…. suppose that’s accurate," she says softly, her mind still processing. “But… don’t you get tired of… well… being intimate with so many people?”

“i… well, yes. mostly considering i havent yet found her” your anger spikes enough that a wisteria tree suddenly sprouts to a size rivalling your own without you noticing as you continue* “…but it’ll all be worth it once i’ve found her— oh! but don’t worry, i havent slept with anyone of my nevermore colleagues. i know it’s against the rules” you added with a smile*

Weems can’t help but flinch as the tree suddenly appears, her heart pounding in her chest once more out of a mix of surprise and worry. She takes a moment to glance around the room, her mind still trying to wrap up their discussion, before it finally returns to you when you mention the rule at Nevermore.

The mention of you not having slept with any of the other faculty or staff allows her heart to calm slightly, and she can’t help but ask, “And… what about students?”

“oh, no no never! my mate, if human or outcast is *atleast* in her thirties at this point, and event thats a little young… and either way, i only sleep with willing participants, which students do not happen to be” You say seriously.

“And… would I be incorrect in assuming you have no mate as of yet? Because of how you haven’t shared a bed with someone you feel the connection with?”

You blush, face coated in heat “yes. i know she’s somewhere here, in the jericho area, i just can’t for the life of me find her” *You sigh, flopping back down beside larissa dramatically, my top sliding down a bit

Weems can’t help the way her gaze drifts to your newly revealed skin once when you flop back down beside her, her cheeks flushing pink once more as her eyes dart back up to your face. She swallows hard, trying to keep her mind on the conversation at hand and not on your state of undress. She’s quiet for a moment, contemplating something, before she speaks up once more, her voice soft yet curious.

“You’re… absolutely certain she’s somewhere around the Jericho area? No where else?”

“Well… i hope so, considering this is where i was called to… maybe she’s even working at the school. say, you don’t happen to know any women between the ages of 35 and 60 working at the school do you?” You smile tiredly up at her, for as to the extent of knowledge most of the female staff here are either too old or too young or even too non-existent to fit your description.

Weems thinks for a moment, her mind running through every single female faculty member that works at the school, silently counting off the ones that fit your age range. She thinks for a few seconds longer before slowly shaking her head, a frown on her face.

“No, everyone on staff is either outside your age range or just not here. I can’t think of a single female faculty member that fits your criteria…other than me.”

As the idea crosses her mind, her heart immediately begins to race, her mind going into overdrive. She shifts nervously for a moment, wondering if you’d be open to the suggestion.

Her voice comes out soft and hesitant as she finally speaks up, her words measured and her gaze not meeting yours.

“Can I… ask you something?”

“sure” you say lazily, glancing towards her, a content smile on your face.

Weems slowly looks back up at you, a pang of both hope and anxiety filling her as she speaks once more, her voice soft yet firm.

“You said… that you’ve been with 22 people during your time in Jericho and you’re certain your supposed mate is in the area. So… what would you say if I… proposed a potential theory?”

“..oh? i’d say i’m very intrigued, please, go on.” you ask, interest piqued

Weems swallows nervously, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepares to state her theory. Her mind races as her courage builds, finally pushing out the words she’s been thinking about.

“What if *I’m* your supposed mate and you just won’t know it until you’ve… engaged in acts with me?”

With eyes flashing a bright gold for a moment, the colour circling your irises, your suddenly on top of her, hands curling into the blanket on either side of me, body leaning over hers in a crouches position as your eyes stare into hers, your faces closer than ever before “i think i’d like to find out. preferably now, if you’d also like” you tell her, my voice much more gravelly than before, taking on a breathy quality as well

Weems breath hitches as you suddenly switch your positions, her eyes growing wide as she looks up at you, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

She takes in the change in your eyes, and the sound of your voice. A shudder runs down her spine a you lean over her, a mixture of lust and want growing. Her breathing is heavy and labored, and she can’t help the word that leaves her lips as she gazes up at you.

”Yes…”

Catching your breath, you stare into her eyes “…are you sure?” you ask again, the insecurity bleeding into your voice.

Weems nods immediately, her gaze unwavering as she looks up into your eyes, her voice growing firm and certain. “Yes… I want this. I *need* this.”

….

hiiii people!! author here, So, originally when i’d sorta planned out this story it ended here, at this part, buuuuut i have vacation time for the next week and a half and could use something to do while visiting home other than working on the farm. So if enough people are interested, i could make this more of a series. thanks for reading - buggy :)

Taglist: @larissalover3

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter Six

Series Masterlist

Cw: Angst, Novali's SA not too descriptive

Every child should grow up at some point, but most are forced to at an early age, when they should be enjoying their childhood. Growing up too soon robbed children of their innocence and freedom. Like a bird being caged before it has even learned to fly. It's quite unfortunate how society often forces children into growing up too soon, robbing them of their innocence and the joy of being carefree

Novali Rae was one such High Fae, sitting in her closet the young faeling was hiding, hiding because her life as she knew it was about to be over

Novali huddled in the corner of her closet, her heart pounded in her chest like a drum. She had been here many times before, each time feeling the same fear and dread. But this time was different, today was the day that would change everything for her.

Her slender fingers traced the intricate patterns of her favourite dress, the one she wore almost every day since her parents never spent money on her. The thought of never wearing it again brought tears to her eyes.

The door creaked open, and her mother's voice drifted through the crack. "Novali, come out now."

Novali swallowed hard, her small frame trembling as she stood up slowly. Her mother waited patiently outside, her arms crossed and a stern look on her face.

The circle her parents ran in, always made Novali sick to her stomach, it was pretty common knowledge for the upper-class Fae of Hewn City, that when a fae female turned a teen, she was married off, and today was the birthday Novali dreaded the most, she would be fourteen.

As Novali stepped out of her room, her eyes met those of her mother, who held a delicate piece of parchment in her hand. A marriage contract. The girl's heart dropped, knowing full well what it meant.

"Novali," her mother began, her voice laced with love, as if she wasn't selling her off to someone. "Today is your birthday. You're no longer a faeling, you're a female now and we've decided… we've decided that you're ready to take your place among our kind."

Novali felt her legs go weak, and she sank onto the plush carpet, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "But Mother, please…" she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm not ready… I... I don't want a male. I don't wa-want a male..." She hiccupped.

Her mother knelt down beside her, placing a harsh hand on Novali's shoulder. "We know it's difficult, sweetheart," she said, her voice anything but soft. "But you have too. All your friends went through this."

Friends. The word seemed foreign, she never had any friends, and the children of her parents' friends weren't even close to her. Novali looked up at her mother, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She'd never had friends of her own, only companionship from her parents. And now, they were forcing her into a life she didn't want.

"Can't we… Can't we wait a little while longer?" She whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own sobs.

Her mother sighed, her lips pressed into a thin line, as if losing patients she didn't even have. "Novali, you must understand," she said. "It's not just about finding you a mate. It's about preserving our lineage, ensuring the survival of our kind. This is how things work here."

But why do we have to suffer? Novali wanted to ask but she knew, those questions were futile. She knew those other faelings were unhappy, the oldest was nearly 25, married to a male well over 400, and she knew, if she didn't marry, her parents would kick her out, she would end up as a street-side whore for anyone to use her how they wanted. And that thought made her wonder if being married wasn't the worst option, but was it really the better thing.

Novali felt her world crumbling around her, the weight of her fate pressing down upon her shoulders. She couldn't escape, couldn't refuse, not without facing a future far worse than marriage.

"Why does it have to be so cruel?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why must we suffer like this?"

Her mother's expression didn't change, and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Novali's face. "Our way of life isn't cruel, dear," she said. "It's simply the natural order of things. Females bear children, males provide. Together, we ensure the continuation of our kind."

Novali shook her head, unable to accept such a simplistic explanation for the complex web of oppression that governed their society. "What about happiness?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother's patience was wearing thin, and she slapped Novali across her face, "Enough nonsense, girl. You are coming downstairs right this second."

Novali gasped, her hand flying to her stinging cheek as she stared at her mother in shock. In her fourteen years of life, she had been struck by her parent for the most minimal things, but she never got used to it. Tears welled up in her eyes, both from the pain and the betrayal.

"I-I'm sorry, Mother," she stammered, scrambling to her feet. "I didn't mean…"

"Save your apologies," her mother snapped, grabbing Novali roughly by the arm and dragging her towards the stairs. "Your betrothed awaits, and we will not keep him waiting any longer."

As they approached the bottom of the stairs, Novali's gaze fell upon the man awaiting her. He was tall, his body muscular and strong. His silver hair shimmered under the chandelier lights, and his icy blue eyes pierced through her with a chilling intensity.

For a moment, she wondered if he might not be so bad after all. If she were older, perhaps she could appreciate his physical attributes. But she wasn't, and she found herself more repulsed than anything else.

Her mother released her arm, stepping back to allow the two to meet properly. "This is your betrothed, Novali," she announced. "Lord Sailas, this is our daughter."

Novali stood frozen, her eyes locked onto Sailas' as her mother introduced them. She could feel the weight of his stare, as though he was already claiming her. There was something unsettling about his presence, a coldness that made her skin crawl.

She managed to dip into a curtsey, her movements stiff and awkward. "It's… nice to meet you, Lord Sailas," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

As the days passed, Novali found herself sinking deeper into a state of numbness. Being engaged to Lord Sailas was everything she had imagined. There was no romance, no affection, just a cold, distant relationship where he expected obedience and compliance from her. But this horrible period in her life was only a preparation for the worst of it. Marriage.

Each morning, she woke up in the large bed they shared, the sheets cold against her skin, she hated it. Her heart was heavy with the knowledge that these would be the last days of her childhood. After breakfast, she would spend hours in her room sewing or embroidered, trying to distract herself from the reality of her situation, unless she was made to cook or clean for him.

When evening came, she would be summoned to join Lord Sailas in the dining hall, where he would eat in silence, occasionally throwing a glare her way if she dared to speak out of turn.

Their interactions consisted mostly of formal dinners, where she was expected to entertain guests with her singing and dancing skills, and nights spent in a bed that felt colder than the male lying next to her. Despite her efforts to adjust, she struggled to find any happiness in her new role. The loneliness ate away at her, leaving her hollow and empty.

As the days stretched into weeks, Novali found herself growing increasingly withdrawn. The constant pressure to perform, to be perfect, took its toll on her. She lost weight, her once vibrant curls becoming dull and lifeless. Her dark eyes, once bright with curiosity and hope, now carried a sadness that mirrored the bleakness of her existence.

One night, as she sat alone in her room, sewing yet another little pattern on the little cloth she could afford, she heard a soft knock on her door. Assuming it was one of the maids who came to collect her to cook dinner, she called out a permission to enter.

The door opened slowly, revealing Sailas' imposing silhouette. For a moment, Novali froze, her hands stilling on the fabric before her. She watched as he closed the door behind him, the click echoing ominously in the otherwise quiet room.

Novali stayed silent, sensing his awful mood, and the alcohol on his breath. Sailas moved silently towards her, his boots making no sound against the plush carpet. Novali watched him approach, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew better than to provoke him, especially when he was inebriated. Yet, there was an undeniable sense of dread creeping up her spine, a chill running down her body despite the warm glow of the fireplace.

He stopped beside her, his shadow looming over her as he towered above. "You've been avoiding me," he accused, his voice low and rough. "Why?"

Novali kept her gaze focused on her sewing, her fingers trembling slightly as they worked the needle through the fabric. "I-I don't know what you mean," she spoke, doing her best to maintain her composure. After a while, she set the fabrics down so she wouldn't stab herself.

"I've given you weeks, fiance." He spat, inching closer. "To get used to me."

Novali swallowed thickly as the male approached her, evading her personal space, "What... What are you doing?"

Sailas grabbed her chin forcefully, turning her face towards his. His icy blue eyes bore into hers, a glint of malice flashing within them. "I'm tired of waiting," he growled, his grip tightening painfully. "And I want my bride."

Novali whimpered softly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She could taste the fear in her mouth, bitter and metallic. "Please…" she begged, her voice barely a whisper. "You can't... We aren't married." This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to have at least a few weeks to mentally prepare herself for her husband-to-be.

His response was swift and brutal. With a swift motion, he pulled her up from the chair, his hands roaming over her curves, exploring her body with a possessive hunger. "I will habe you tonight," he hissed, his lips inches from hers. "And every night until you learn to please me."

"Get off me!" Novali said, with every bit of anger she could muster in her fear, her feet connecting with Salias' chest, but doing nothing to push him off her.

Sailas laughed cruelly, the sound grating against Novali's ears like nails on a chalkboard. "Feisty, I love a female who can try to fight." he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips firmly. "But you're mine now, and you'll learn to behave."

Novali's mind retreated further and further as Sailas pushed her further, her thoughts fragmenting into shards of pain and terror. She couldn't process the sounds around her, Sailas' grunts of exertion, the ripping of fabric, her own ragged sobs.

At some point, she felt a searing agony between her legs increase. Novali lay there, broken and bleeding, her vision blurred with tears. She could taste copper on her tongue, and the stench of sex and violence hung heavy in the air. She could feel nothing. She was nothing.

"This is what you are now," he declared, his voice dripping with disdain. "My property, my possession."

Novali had thrown up on the side of the structure where the throne room sat, wave after wave of nausea hitting the twenty-year-old, she could still feel the faint touch of Nyx on her back, Sailas' hands on the inside of her thighs, Nyx holding her close, Sailas forcing himself on her, Nyx's hands, Sailas, Nyx, Sailas, hands, touch, she threw up with another wave of disgust.

Novali had gasoed awake in her bed, her stomach convulsing as more bile rose up her throat. She could hardly breathe, let alone respond to the mockery in her mind. She was dirty, violated, and utterly defeated. Every part of her body ached, each breath a painful reminder of what had transpired mere hours ago, of what had happened years ago.

As the waves subsided, she curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her quivering form. She wanted to disappear, to vanish into thin air and leave this nightmare behind.

Novali remained huddled on the floor of her room, her daughter asleep, her body wracked with sobs as the full extent of her trauma crashed over her once again. The memories of that night, the violation, the degradation all came flooding back, each detail etched into her mind with unerring clarity. She could still feel Sailas' hands on her, violating her, she had thought she had goten used to that feeling, but there was never any getting used to it.

Novali's mind raced with the memories, the past and present blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of pain and humiliation. She could still hear Sailas' taunting words, see the cruel smirk on his face as he claimed her innocence for his own sick pleasure.

A sudden knock at the door startled her from her reverie, and she scrambled to her feet, wiping frantically at the tears streaking down her cheeks. She couldn't let anyone see her like this, not like this. Not ever again.

"Just a moment," she called out, her voice hoarse and strained. She quickly splashed water on her face, trying to compose herself before opening the door a crack.

It was Aleks, her concerned expression immediately shifting to one of alarm as he caught sight of Novali's ravaged state. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Please leave..." Novali breathed, her arms wrapped around herself. "Leave me alone."

Aleks looked at her, concern etching deeper lines across his forehead. He reached out to gently touch her arm, but she flinched away, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips.

"Novali," he pleaded, his voice laced with worry. "You're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong."

Novali just shook her head, unable to meet his gaze. "It's nothing," she lied, her voice barely a whisper. "Just…a bad dream."

"What was the dream about?" He asked, sitting down next to her, still maintaining a good distance, his amber eyes burning with hurt for her, "Are you open to telling me about it?"

"No," Novali replied sharply, though the word was torn from her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the terror of the dream, of the memory. She knew that if she told Aleks about it, if she shared the details of that night, of those nights, she couldn't bring herself to.

"I can't," Novali whispered, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "Not even to you, Aleks. Please understand."

Aleks nodded slowly, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. "Alright," he said quietly. "But promise me something, Novali. Promise me that if you ever need help, if you ever feel overwhelmed, you'll come to me. I won't judge you, I swear it. I'm your oldest friend."

Novali hesitated, torn between her desire for privacy and the comfort of having someone she trusted nearby. Finally, she managed a shaky nod. "I promise," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Thank you, Aleks."

He leaned forward but then pulled back, sensing touch wasn't what she needed. "Always," Aleks stood up, giving Novali space to collect herself. "If you change your mind, or if you just need someone to talk to, I'll be here," he assured her softly.

"It's..." Novali whispered faintly. "I just know the kind of reaction you will have when i tell you."

Aleks sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Novali, whatever it is, I don't care about reactions," he said earnestly. "All I want is to help you. If it helps, I won't overreact. I promise."

He paused, looking at her intently. "And besides," he added with a small smile, "You've seen me cry before. Remember how ridiculous I look when I do? That should reassure you."

Novali managed a weak smile at that, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You're ridiculous either way," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. But despite her attempt at humour, she knew the gravity of the situation lingered in the air between them.

"It's just..." Novali inhaled, "Memories... Everything I've lived through, it comes back to be in fragments."

Aleks listened attentively as Novali spoke, his expression growing increasingly somber. "Fragments of what?" he prompted gently, leaning against the wall opposite her.

Novali closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Of the past," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Things I thought I'd buried long ago. Things that…hurt."

Aleks frowned, his brow furrowing in concern. "Is that why you pushed me away just now?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing. "Because you were thinking of him?"

"I always think of him when someone touches me..." Novali said in a small voice. "I... Can't help it."

"I'm sorry, Novali," Aleks said sincerely, feeling helpless. "I wish I could take away your pain." His eyes softened as he studied her, seeing the torment etched onto her face. "Perhaps talking about it might help. Even if it hurts, maybe it'll give you some closure."

He moved closer, reaching out tentatively to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm here for you, Novali. Always."

But he wasn't there. Novali had made it all up in her head. He didn't stay back, Novali had told him to go and he had respected that. She could never tell him what she wished she could, she could never voice it. How every time she touched someone, or someone touched her, she was back under that monster, that feeling was all that remained. She could not tell him. Because then, he would be scared to touch her. And she'd lose the only few constants she had in her life.

{Meeting in Grey Taglist- @sleepylunarwolf @sarawritestories @sheblogs}

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

[funficwriter]

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Letters' Interlude - 1

A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.

Tag: @yue-caelum

From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

Dearest Duke,

I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.

I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).

Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.

Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?

I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.

Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!

Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.

Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.

Yours truly,

Lady Y/N Balthazar

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

From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To my cherished Lady,

I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.

First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.

If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.

And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?

After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.

As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.

I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.

Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?

How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.

Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.

With all the love I can hold,

Duke Wriothesley

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 46 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 45.1 | lesson 45.2 | lesson 47

i'll probaboy be moving my baby sister into college when this queues up 🥲 sob sob

slight lesson 76 spoilers

we love to see more of a lighthearted lesson

ah yes, siblings 🫶🏽 levi is me, i am levi

i also love the fact that luci, mams, levi, and simeon are all working together to help mammon

it's clear how much they all adore him even if they're shitheads sometimes (read: most of the time)

anyone else having war flashbacks to cocytus? no? just me? kay.

see now they're just making up words bc what are we talking about 😭 also love how they didn't bother to make a 2D CG picture for it bc it's never gonna be mentioned in another lesson after this point

...i'd have to kms

imagine every step you take leads to a blood curdling scream...everybody's dying idc

"dear, sweet henry 1.0" my ASS

homeboy didn't even remember you when y'all were trapped in that made and had to get charmed by asmo 😭

...unless that was his way of telling levi to make new friends, just like the way he left levi in the anime bc levi had no friends outside of henry

but i also wanna see the full extent of mammon's power 🧍🏾 the devs need to stop giving us cut scenes every time my man steps up to fight a monster

that's hilarious actually

imagine some lower level demon actually ended up getting eaten bc they couldn't beat the monsters and the "research" was all in vain

leave it to me to read too far into things 🤞🏽

example x of mammon being lucifer's favorite and most trusted brother

regardless of how dumb mammon thinks a task is, he'll do his best to get it done as perfectly as possible if it means keeping up a good image for lucifer or making lucifer happy. lucifer knows this despite rarely, if ever, admitting it to himself, mammon, or anyone else, and that's why he trusts mammon with serious shit when the situation calls for it

granted, the speech mammon is giving probably wasn't orchestrated by lucifer, but the way it goes still reflects on him and diavolo, and mammon knows better than to make his big brother and the future demon king look bad in front of who knows how many people

MAMMON SIMPS HOW WE FEELING????

they absolutely would've fucked backstage if he wasn't up next for his speech /srs

they fucked in the back of class and they'd do it again BOP BOP

also mammon's speech being "get off your lazy asses and go touch grass" was easily the best idol about this lesson. 10/10 writing

about the first screenshot, why is nobody in-game verbally commenting on simeon wearing his angelic clothes ??? didn't he stop wearing them as soon as he fell from grace in the og timeline ?????

or maybe this is a result of too many time soup shenanigans. maybe his body can't tell if he's human or still an angel

but it's clear that everyone's noticed something's off with simeon even if they haven't said anything to him verbally, which is why luke was so hellbent on mc asking simeon if he was okay. but nobody's outright saying anything bc this mf will deny any and every concern thrown at him with a smile on his face. he won't even tell mc what's going on, so lucifer had to step in

ending the hard bonus chapter like this was VILE but in the best way possible

[dr5amatic]

READER, WRITER, PROTAGONIST ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from omniscient reader's viewpoint by sing shong. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

we are companions separated by life and death.

i remember the moment i read a novel for the first time.

it isn't important to read the letters. the important thing is where the letters lead you.

perhaps it was similar to learning about death. for the first time, i realized that something was finite.

if i am really a god then i am the most incompetent god in the world. the most helpless god in the whole world who knows everything but can't explain anything.

i believe in you more than the future that hasn't come yet.

ultimately, every human is their own writer.

helping someone who didn't want help can be a curse. however, some people can't ask for help despite needing help because they had never asked for it before.

what i am looking for is passion. i hope you have the passion to see the end of this damn story with me.

by the way, are you a couple?

tell me, you fool. if i continue to regress, will i ever get to meet you again?

[name]. can i hit you?

you will be my companion and you will see the end of the scenario.

the story won't end unless the reader gives up on the story.

i am an ordinary person with ordinary skills. but even so, this doesn't mean i can only do ordinary things.

i am [name]. and you shall die here.

get lost, [name].

this story is for just that one reader.

hey, just say that you like him. quickly.

there is no weight to sadness.

in the end, to every human being, the most precious thing is themselves. and you risk everything of yours always.

strangely, i've been craving something sweet lately. do you want to eat?

release your hand and get lost, you damn son of a bitch.

i have a companion already.

i always regretted about something in my life. however, my regret over the things i haven't done is way bigger than for those that i did do.

i don't know anything about the future. however, i do know this. you said that you want to save this world? it's the same for me too.

you are the world i wish to save.

you are like dough made by anyone while a god was carving him for a thousand days.

i might be a killer but i don't want to become a monster.

those who read more than fifty chapters of a boring novel aren't normal.

eat the soil, [name].

marry him? i'd rather kill myself.

it's my freedom to decide what i hear and what i remember. and i shall decide who i am.

i'm only good to people who are also dead. i'm sorry that we met when you are a living person. you should die soon and come back again.

justice, in most cases, is just something that is agreed upon by the majority.

don't you know that people are the most dangerous in an apocalypse?

i can kill all of them if i want. therefore, i can save all of them if i want.

it's been a while, [name]. you are still ugly.

i shall pray that you may continue to exist somewhere too.

you probably know this already, but i'm not a prophet. no, i am as far removed from such a being as you can get.

if you get a chance to run again, do you believe you can see it better the next time?

where do you plan to die alone?

why are you going so far to save me?

i have something i need to ask that fool.

it was a really great story. isn't that right? let's meet again, [name].

give me [name]. then i will spare you.

you are necessary for this world. i need you.

you will be killed by the person you love the most.

i won't give up on this life, so don't give up either.

don't worry. i'll do the rest.

everything has already been written, and at the same time, still being written.

even if i was a little bit less happy, i wanted to live longer.

we can save the world. you know that, right?

you always had to endure these moments all by yourself. fortunately, you aren't alone this time.

the fact that you can regress at any time means that death is meaningless.

i will decide my story.

perhaps you understood my heart more than anyone else.

this version of you is the despair of the world itself.

i will never sacrifice myself again. i will not leave my companions behind.

it has always been once chance for me.

one's life should always be greater than a story written about them.

i'm giving you the opportunity to become its very first reader.

don't be an ass and just read it when i tell you to.

fine, fine. i'll definitely read it.

some stories can only begin anew after coming to its end.

you're the cowardly lion, obviously.

do you still believe that you can understand someone through just a few lines of text in a couple of chapters?

knowledge is never perfect.

how do you know all my weaknesses...?

why did you die for us over and over?

you're our son. that is all that matters.

i want to buy a really big house and live together with everyone.

a person who watched a certain story for a long time would eventually grow to resemble that story.

your salvation is cruel. like rescuing a drowning person with a blade, those saved by you are inflicted with an unhealable wound.

i always hated you. and regretted it, too? why did i write the story of someone like you with my own hands?

[applepiesupreme]

American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan, and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

Chapter 29

AOC link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/148846414

"What's in yer head?" he asked from the chair he was sitting in.

Savigne came out of her stupor and smiled at him. "Nothing."

Another girl, Estelle had left today. Just like Rachel, she too had looked pretty broken up about it, but unlike Rachel who quietly disappeared back to her hometown, Estelle got up in the middle of her shift and simply walked out of the kitchen and never returned. "It was the stress" people were whispering. "She wasn't cut out to work under pressure" and "She didn't have what it takes". But Savigne knew better. She liked Estelle and felt bad for her, wondered about her prospects now that she had left the way she did. A recommendation letter from Chef Ecco was out of the question and Savigne wouldn't be surprised if, quite the opposite, he actually ruined her future work prospects.

His eyes flicked up at her from his journal. "Ya sure?" was his mild question.

She sighed and closed the book she was pretending to read and sat up on the bed.

"I was thinking that you owe me."

"That so?"

"Yeah," she mused. "You offered to go to that second map location, didn't you?"

His hand paused. A belated “When was this?”

“Very cute.”

She watched him thoughtfully hum and furrow his brow as if trying to recall. When he came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to fall for his brilliant amnesia play, he merely said: "That was then."

"What do you mean?"

"Meaning," he grumbled. "Ain’t on the table no more."

"Excuse me?"

He looked up at her. "Offer ran out."

"Well isn't that convenient?" she said evenly. "Why the hell did it do that?"

"Cause ya didn' take it, did ya?"

"How about I take it now?"

Arthur sighed and stubbornly sketched on, unfazed by her hard stare. 

"Hello?" she pressed.

"Expired."

"Why?"

"Cause it ain't safe."

"Wasn't safe then either I imagine."

"Well you was mad then."

"I knew it!" she scrambled to sit at the edge of the bed, ready for a fight.

He grunted in frustration and threw his journal on the table. "Woman, why can't y'ask for normal woman things?"

"Like what?"

"Like...goin' to a play. Or fancy restaurant. Or the zoo…"

“The zoo?” she echoed, incredulous.

He waved his arms in frustration and talked over her:"…A new dress. Jewelry. Ya know, the usual things."

"Pffft, please. I can do all those things myself, that's why." Then she quickly added: "This I can do by myself, too, by the way. It's just that you won't ‘let me’."

“Savigne, there ain’t no treasure. Never is.”

“Okay, think of it as an outing then. Sort of like going to the…” she almost snorted with the ridiculousness of it and added “…zoo.” Did Arthur ever fucking date? Who the hell had asked him to go to the zoo?

“Zoo is safe. This ain’t.”

“Why did you offer it then?”

“Cause you was in a mood, that’s why.”

“Aha!" she exclaimed, victorious. "Then how about you pretend I’m in that mood again. In fact, you keep this up, you won’t have to pretend because I’m getting there.”

He crossed his arms and looked away, jaws clenched. "Fine," he muttered finally with resignation. "Serves me right to offer."

She jumped up and came around to kiss his cheek. "I need to prepare."

"Ain't far," he said, sullen. "Don' pack like we goin' to California."

"Okay," she grinned and pulled out a sizable list from between the pages of one of her books.

They rode into the clearing late morning next Sunday and Arthur was extremely grumpy because their usual Sunday bath had to be sacrificed for the trip. 

"There it is!" she pointed with excitement at the waterfall across the lake. 

"I know it's there," was his dry retort. "I was the one who brought you here.”

"Jesus, you're glum! I'm sure Bill will survive one week without us."

He sighed at the great injustice of it and urged Frost to trot ahead. 

"Now listen here," he said over his shoulder. "This here Murfree country. Ya stick close to me, ya hear?"

"What's a Murfree?"

"Bad man."

"Oh, the usual kind, then."

He gave her look. "Ain't the usual kind. I mean real rotten, ya hear?"

"Okay," she said, sobering a little at his grave tone and urging Cricket closer. "Like what?" she asked a short while later. 

"They eat people."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I ain't kiddin', Savigne. Stay close."

She didn't need to be told twice. They walked the horses to a spot across the waterfall, then dismounted. She brushed off her jeans and cracked her back, taking in the scenery. Treasure or no treasure, it was a lovely spot, perfect for a picnic. For the most part the trees retained their color, but Fall foliage was starting to peek through here and there. The familiar crispness of Autumn was in the air and the hue of light was a milder gold color. A flock of geese squawked high above them, migrating to wherever it was they went when the weather turned. Fall in Saint Denis was chilly, rainy and glum. But this would be her first year of experiencing the season outside of a city and she was looking forward to it.

She pulled out the map. "Says we have to go behind."

"Give it here," he swiped it off her hands, still annoyed. Then: "Says we have to go behind." He ignored the sheepish look she gave him.

"Should I wait here, or...?"

"Sure, if ya wanna spin on a bonfire."

"But what about our horses, then?"

"They don't eat horse," was his answer. She thought she heard a mumbled "I hope" but wasn't sure and he walked away before she could confirm it.

She quickly ran after and followed him so closely, she almost tangled his feet. When they arrived at the waterfall he gave her a look. “We goin’ in and there better be a cave there or ‘m gonna be pissed.”

“Oh please, we wouldn’t want you to lose your sunny disposition!” she mumbled. When he glared at her: “I can wait here if you want,” she offered again.

“Could if you could shoot. Since yer more likely to shoot yer damn self, you comin’.”

“You know, they say if a pupil fails, the fault lies with the teacher,” was her acerbic response.

“Who says that?” he scoffed. “Failed pupils?”

“Here,” she tsked and handed him one of the coats.

“The hell is this?”

“A Mackintosh. I bought us these so the stuff on us stays dry.”

He pinched the rubberized fabric. “How long you been planning this?”

“Since I saw the waterfall drawing on that second map,” she said, hooking the lantern on her belt, then putting on her own Mackintosh which was a man’s model and way too big for her. Their boots would get wet of course but she had packed an extra pair for the trip and wasn't worried.

“Ya keep wastin’ money for a scam, won' be no cabin,” he teased but she could tell he liked the coat as it would keep his guns and satchel relatively dry.

“Who cares? I'm going to buy the cabin with the gold we're about to find.”

He snorted and offered his hand. When she took it, he stepped through without further ado and pulled her in his wake.

Momentarily the weight of the water on her shoulders and then she was through and when she looked up, they were at the entrance of a cave. They proceeded to climb in a little further to get away from the roar before they stopped.

“I knew it!” she twitched, squeezing Arthur’s hand with excitement. “Oh my god! The map is real! We're rich, Arthur!"

“Woman…” he sighed, then just clicked his tongue in resignation and shook his head.

“Was there ever a man as grumpy as you?” she grinned up at him, unbuttoning her Mackintosh.

“‘M only grumpy cause you could be naked, sittin’ on my lap right now, but instead we here.”

She motioned for him to take off his coat and handed him the lighted lantern, then folded the coats and left them by the entrance. “Thank God it's a cave this time. No more climbing.”

She whisked out the map again. “Says we go straight, then make a right at the juncture.”

When they turned the corner he stopped and she almost ran into his back. 

“I got news for ya.” The grin in his voice was unmistakable.

“What is it?” she tried to see around his broad back. 

He moved aside and there was a steep drop to their left. Unexpected vertigo buckled her legs and Arthur gripped her waist to keep her steady. “Hey, hey,” he cooed and pushed her against the cave wall. “Ain’t that high. Look.” 

He held the lantern over it and it was about thirty feet, which didn't change matters for her at all.

“I can do this,” she whispered, voice shaking.

He gave her a dubious glance. “Ya sure? I can go alone. Doubt anyone else comin' in here."

“I’m not staying here by myself in the dark. We only have the one lantern.”

“Okay. Lean back on the wall.” When she did, he grasped her hand. She closed her eyes when he started to walk along the ledge and she carefully crept along sideways, her back brushing the cave wall. A while later he stopped.

“Gimme the map.” She fumbled for it with closed eyes and held it out. There was a pause. 

“More news.”

She almost whimpered. “What now?”

“We gotta jump.”

“Are you bullshitting me right now Arthur?!” she hissed, her heart starting to thump harder.

“No. A section broke off.”

She moaned despite herself.

“Just wait here, I’ll be quick.”

She weighed the option of jumping against sitting alone in a dark cave with no light source, all manner of critters crawling over her and groaned a determined “I can do this,” trying to mask the clattering of her teeth.

He sighed. “Okay. Com'ere.” 

“Why? What are we doing?”

“Gonna take ya on my back.”

She sensed him crouch down and blindly felt her way to his shoulders and threw her arms around his neck.

“Savigne...” he paused when he stood up. 

“If you tell me I’m too heavy, I’m going to lose it!” This had been a running joke now for the last few weeks. She was aware she had gained a little weight and was quite self conscious about it, but Arthur was having a blast, casually slapping her ass as she was walking by or lustily fondling her thighs in bed.

“Was gonna say, relax yer hold. Need to breathe.” He tapped her arm and she loosened her viselike grip a little.

He slung his hands under her thighs but not before patting her buttocks. 

“What’s that about?” she growled.

“Just adjusting. For balance.”

“Bullsh-”

He jumped and a yelp tumbled out her throat, echoing in the cave.

He lowered her down and she clung to his shirt, eyes tightly screwed. 

“Fine now.”

She carefully peeked out and took a deep breath. “God, we will have to do that again,” she shuddered. 

“Show me the map.” 

He inspected it, then simply walked off with the lantern, leaving her trembling against the wall in the dark.

“Arthur!”

He returned and offered his hand, not even trying to hide the grin on his face. She gripped his hand with a glare and leaned back on the wall and crabwalked as he pulled her into another tunnel.

When they arrived at a juncture he made a left. The passage narrowed more and more and he took the lead as they squeezed sideways trough the slim openings, trying to fit their arms and legs around the rocks.

“Maybe ya should have gone first," she grinned over his shoulder. "Easier to push ya through from behind if that pretty ass o’yours gets stuck.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Should be right up here,” he said, inspecting the map and made a right. “Don’t know how ya were gonna do this on yer own,” he muttered, inspecting the surroundings.

Probably couldn’t have, she thought but her pride didn’t allow her to say it.

They reached what looked like a dead end and he ran his hands across the wall. One of the rocks moved and he fumbled to pull it out. Then he shone the lantern into the gap and reached in, retrieving a folded piece of paper.

“There’s yer gold,” he sighed and handed it to her.

“Hold up the light!” she squealed with excitement. She was careful in unfolding it because it felt damp and fragile. She turned it around and read the words “final map” in a corner. “Oh my god, it’s the final piece!”

He hummed over her shoulder, not impressed.

“Does it look like anything to you?”

“Hard to tell. We’ll take a look outside.”

They ambled back to the jumping point. “Don’t fondle my ass,” she warned as she climbed on his back again.

“Think I earned it,” he countered shamelessly and did exactly that.

He jumped across and lowered her on shaky legs, then turned and gave her a crushing smack of a kiss. They found their way back to the cave entrance, bundled back up in their mackintoshes and waded through the waterfall. Savigne gulped deep breaths of relief when they came out into daylight. She ran ahead ahead and hastily hugged Frost's neck, glad that the horses were fine and not Murfree food.

“What he do?” Arthur asked drily from behind her.

“He was a good boy and didn’t act insufferable because he missed a bath,” she sighed and walked over to hug Cricket next because you can’t just hug one horse and not the other.

He muttered under his breath as he stuffed the lantern and the raincoats into the basket tied to his horse. 

Amused how invested he was in the Sunday baths now, she was about to tease him when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and the cold steel of a blade appeared at her throat. 

The click of a gun cocking stilled Arthur immediately.

“Eaaasssyy now, mister,” came a voice from her right. A man stepped into her view. He was tall and skinny with greasy blond hair hanging into his eyes. The denim overalls hanging loosely over the skeletal frame of his naked bony shoulders was stained with all manner of blotches, some of them undoubtedly the dull maroon of blood. Her eyes drifted to his face: Protruding eyebrows framing a set of cunning, cold grey eyes. His nose had clearly been broken at some point and had healed somewhat crooked. Once, when she was perusing books about exotic animals at the library she had seen the picture of a naked mole and he reminded her of that - big teeth, skin pale and hairless, eyes beady. He was marred with an old gash on his left cheek. In his extended hand a sawed off shotgun, pointing at Arthur with cold precision.

Arthur calmly resumed and finished his packing before he turned around, palms up in placation. His eyes immediately flicked to her, the knife at her throat, then to whoever was standing behind her.

“There a problem?” was his mild question to the man with the gun.

Savigne swallowed as her pulse picked up. Her eyes darted between Arthur and the man, lingering on the gun in his hand and finding their predicament increasingly grim. They hadn't encountered anyone on their way to the clearing, so the odds of someone riding by and offering at least a window of surprise were very low. Her heart sunk with the realization that they could die right here, right now, on this random Fall morning and nobody would even find their bodies. Or...their fate could be a lot worse than death.

“Yeah there is, partner,” the man said amicably. His grin revealed gaps of missing teeth. “Yer on our land.”

Arthur, bizarrely composed given the circumstances, gave him a long look with hooded eyes. “That so?”

The man nodded as his grin grew and stepped closer. The hand around her waist tightened and she was forced to rise on her heels to accommodate the blade. The sour, musky stench wafting off the man behind her turned her stomach and she almost gagged. Her eyes drifted down to his hand, caked in dirt, fingernails jagged and long as if he had burrowed his way out of a grave. She had to fight the urge to keep her hands up in surrender instead of clawing it off herself. 

“Don’ like strangers much,” was the easy answer, delivered with a toothy grin. She stared hypnotized at his wide mouth with those long yellow teeth and the fat lips, imagining them chomping on human flesh. A fresh wave of bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it back down.

“Just passing through,” Arthur drawled, head swiveling as if to take in the vista but more likely assessing who else was out there.

A low chuckle behind her and Arthur’s eyes flicked to the spot over her shoulder again. “Might wanna take yer hands off my woman,” was his calm suggestion.

Against the backdrop of a hyperventilating Savigne, the slight tremble in the blond man’s gun arm and the shallow and fast, dog-like panting of the Murfree behind her, Arthur looked absurdly collected, as if he had just woken up from a restful sleep. 

"Maybe yer just passin' through, cowboy," was the tease from over her shoulder, colored with amusement. "But this here is city folk. She ain't yer woman cause yer friggin' in yer tent thinkin' on her."  

“You nick her even a little, y'aint leavin' here alive,” was Arthur’s dry retort, eyes icing over. A deliberate pause before the addition of “Boy.” 

“Watch what ya call me, mister!” She heard the shift from hyena laugh to anger in the voice and shuffled her feet to regain her balance as the arm across her waist tightened like a coiling snake.

“Y'aint no man, hidin’ behind a woman,” was the calm assessment.

“Hey! I’m holdin’ the gun here!” the other man barked, waving his arm but again, it fell on deaf ears as Arthur’s eyes remained glued to her captor.

“Ain’t hidin’,” was the hiss at her ear as the blade momentarily wobbled, then steadied again. He roughly pulled her against himself and ignored her shudder of disgust, perhaps even enjoyed it. His voice was shrewd when he spoke again: “She smell nice.” He took a deep inhale of her hair. Savigne pressed her lips flat to keep the whimper in. And her breakfast. “Pretty, too,” he drawled on. “Just had us an openin'.” The hand on her waist spread like a spider on her belly. “Poor Barb died with m'baby in'er.” Savigne's head swam and the world dimmed a little as he placed his chin on her shoulder. “What ya say?” was the low song in her ear. “You like rough guys, do ya? Ya gonna looovee me. Things I'll do to ya...no man even dreamed doin’.”

“Ain’t gonna ask again, boy!” Arthur spat, turning fully towards her and squaring his feet.

“Hey!” the man with the gun to his left barked for Arthur’s attention.

“Shoot ‘im in the gut,” her captor crooned. “So he die slow, watchin'.”

To her horror the hand on her stomach started to crawl downwards and she reflexively gripped it and tried to wrestle it off herself.

Then everything happened at once.

In an unfathomably instantaneous blur Arthur drew - no, more like a gun materialized in his hand. Later, Savigne would rewind this moment in her head dozens of times and still not understand how it happened. She had seen a mock duel and a shooting competition at a county fair once and had marveled at the speed of the shooters. But what happened in that clearing that day was leagues beyond that. One moment Arthur’s hands were still slightly upturned and away from his belt, then she might have blinked for a fraction of a second, and suddenly he had a gun in his hand and with expert subterfuge he never broke eye contact with her captor but it was the blond man’s face to his left that disintegrated. 

The gunshot boomed and echoed in the clearing, startling the horses and making them dance away as Savigne jumped with surprise. She stared, frozen stiff with shock and the man behind her stilled in incomprehension, too. The body collapsed almost in slow motion, first sinking on its knees, then toppling over as blood continued to spurt from the ruin that barely a second ago had been a face.

The swelling of her captor’s lungs pushed against her back and was followed by the bellowing thunder in her ear: “YOU PIECE OF SHIT, FUCKIN' PIECE OF SHIT, FUCK YOU!!”

Arthur didn’t even look at the toppled body. He didn’t look at her either. He kept his eyes glued to that spot over her shoulder. The knife on her neck instantaneously appeared against her stomach, the tip of the blade prickling her shirt above her belt.

“Gonna rip out her innards for that!” was the howl as she momentarily closed her eyes, afraid that she would pass out.

"He was pointin’ a gun at me,” Arthur drawled with a bizarrely casual tone and twirled the gun smoothly back into his holster. His palms rose back up. If this was done to pacify the Murfree, she didn’t understand why it would work. The blur of a draw he did a moment ago would persuade anyone otherwise. But to her surprise, despite his loud breathing, she sensed the hesitation of the man behind her. “Man’s got a right to defend himself, aint he?” Arthur pressed on, his voice calm and coaxing, a far cry from the frostiness earlier. The panting in her ear became raspy and quieter.

“Y'ain’t done point a gun at me, have ya?” Arthur continued, straightening a little and relaxing his shoulders. The repose in his eyes would have confused an angry beast and in the same manner it served to restrain the man behind her too. At least for the moment. The silence was so deep, she literally heard the blood from the corpse to her right splattering to the ground.

The sullen, almost childlike “No,” mumbled against her hair surprised her but maybe it shouldn't. She didn't know who these people were but it was easy to deduce the heavy inbreeding and the dullness of the offspring that would follow.

Arthur nodded in easy agreement. “Then get outta here.”

Another silence.

“Bullshit!" Uncertain. Nervous. "Y’aint gonna let me go.” Lilted like a question.

“Savigne, he nick ya?” For the first time since this madness had started, his blue eyes drifted to lock on hers. Her head stuttered with a shake.

“Good. No harm done. Ya let my woman go and I let you go. Simple.”

The Murfree thought on that for a moment. “She comin’ with me,” he tried and there was desperation in his tone. As if he wanted to believe Arthur but couldn't quite get there.

“Ain’t gonna happen,” was the flat answer that brooked no argument.

"I know youse shoot me in the back, you fuckin' piece of shit!”

To her amazement, Arthur unfastened his gun belt and loped it away.

Another silence.

The knife tip on her gut wobbled and this time she did feel a bite but she didn’t say anything. Then suddenly for the first time the hold across her waist loosened just a little bit.

“You can take m'horse.” Savigne’s eyes widened with disbelief as Arthur walked to Frost and brought him over by the reins.

The two men looked at each other for a long moment and then she was sharply pushed forward and stumbled, but Arthur caught her before she could fall on her face. His left arm curled around her back as she clawed at his shirt and tried to burrow into his chest. Not even a moment later she heard a sharp “Hya!”, the slap on a rump and Frost taking off.

"Stay here,” Arthur said quietly into her ear and before she had a chance to react he untangled himself from her grip and stalked to his gun belt. He whistled sharply as he reached for it and refastened it with smooth expertise and Frost immediately bucked his rider and turned to trot back towards them. The man remained a tangled heap on the ground for a long moment, then finally got his legs under him and scrambled off but Arthur casually shot him in the thigh and he collapsed with a sharp cry. She saw him clearly for the first time and realized why the 'boy' was taken as an insult. He was younger than she expected, maybe barely twenty years old with a mop of tangled, messy brown hair and few whiskers for a beard. Pale and gangly like his friend had been, he sat cradling the wound on his thigh, glaring back at them with naked hatred.

"Savigne,” Arthur said and her gaze snapped to him. “Look away.” There was something in his eyes she had never seen before and he didn’t give her a chance to decipher it as he turned and marched off towards the yowling Murfree without another word. In one hand he held his large hunting knife, in the other his gun.  

She meant to look away like he had asked but couldn’t tear her eyes off him, striding over as the other man desperately raised his blade. She flinched when another gunshot rang and the man’s hand disappeared in a mist of red. Her skin crawled at the screech that erupted at that. Last thing she saw was Arthur calmly holstering his gun and hefting his blade before he knelt over the man. Then she turned away, doubled over and threw up. She dry heaved, gasping for breath and threw up again. There was a low mutter that sounded something like “Ya think ‘m gonna let ya run off after you put hands on my woman, boy?”, chased by a soft thump and a wet moan. She stumbled towards the lake on shaky legs, falling to her knees as her vision darkened and brightened again, crawling on all fours to reach the water. 

She sat there, mind momentarily blank before she jumped at another high shriek and remembered why she was there, washed her face and repeatedly slurped water from trembling hands to gargle the sour aftertaste from her mouth. Then she leaned over and dunked her head into the lake to restart her brain. She remained submerged like that for as long as she could, finding comfort in the quietness under the water. When she felt her lungs burn she sat up, sputtering and wheezing for breath, hair plastered on her face. From the corner of her eye she saw Arthur drop to his haunches beside her to quickly wash off his hands before he turned and roughly pulled her into his arms. She collapsed into his embrace and clung to him, shivering like a leaf as his hold tightened.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, chin resting on her head as she scurried her face into his neck, chasing the comfort of his familiar scent. 

She tried to nod although she wasn’t sure of the answer.

She felt the thunder of his heart, a stark contrast to his cool demeanor, against her cheek before he gripped her shoulders and leaned back to see her face.

”I’m fi-”

He crushed his lips against hers, his hands holding her head in an iron vise. She was too stunned to respond and took a shuddering breath when he broke it.

”Look at me.”

She did and his eyes bored into hers, then crawled over her face before he pulled her closer and kissed her again.

”Yer okay,” he soothed, hands wiping wet hair off her cheeks.

His eyes roamed the clearing. “We should leave," before he looked at her again. “Can you stand?”

She wordlessly hauled herself up. His arm circled her waist and she half walked, half stumbled with his aid towards the horses. When she attempted to climb up Cricket he gripped her waist and lifted her on Frost instead. “You ride with me,” he said before he slung himself up to sit behind her. “Don’ want ya to fall off.” She nodded in a daze as his arm came around to secure her against him. He called for Cricket to follow as he turned Frost around and galloped out of the clearing, into the surrounding woods. 

How long they rode on, she couldn’t tell. It felt like a long time but when they came out to a well traveled main road, the sun was still in its early afternoon position. She had no idea where they were and placed her hand on his lying across her abdomen. 

“Ya good?”

She nodded again.

“Sorry,” was her late raspy response.

“What ya sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “For being useless.”

“Y’aint useless. I don’ doubt those two butchered seasoned men.”

“I…almost got us killed," she whimpered the realization breaking her voice. "Or worse.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Then: “Ain’t yer fault. This is a hard country, Savigne. Full of hard men.”

A hard country, she thought, where the weak get weeded out like chaff so only the strong remain standing. Where men abuse children, women and other men until they run into a smarter, faster, more ruthless man. The image of him dismissively reholstering his gun while he hefted his blade, looming over the man on the ground flashed before her eyes. This is his country. I’m just living in it.

Her hand tightened on his. “How far are we from Valentine?”

“Why, ya wanna wash off?”

She thought of the man’s vile breath on her neck and that grimy hand caressing her abdomen. Her stomach gurgled, looking for something else to push out but luckily failed. “Can we?” she shuddered.

“Sure,” was his soft response.

They arrived in Valentine late afternoon. The horses were stabled before they headed to the hotel. Bill looked up when they walked in - both of them wet, Savigne pale and shivering, her hair a tangled mess and Arthur covered in blood. A true professional, he wordlessly reached for their clean clothes basket and added the key of the room with the large tub to it.

“Thank you,” Savigne croaked, voice still shaking. “Sorry, we’re a bit…late today.”

“No worries Ms. Ricci,” he said coolly. She sighed and ignored the fact that he had begun to call her Ms instead of Miss a while ago. Men had a barometer about these things she couldn’t read and for whatever reason, somewhere along the way Bill had decided that she wasn’t single anymore just like he had decided it would be Arthur’s money he would take and she was too tired to argue.

“We’ll bring the dirty clothes later,” she mumbled as she turned to the corridor leading to the baths.

After she washed her body and her hair she just sat there and quietly sobbed for a long time. Arthur didn't acknowledge it, didn't talk through it and instead pulled her onto his lap and gently brushed her shoulders and ran water over her hair. She sat with her back cradled in his chest and cried until she ran out of tears. Maybe because she had been having such a great day until the shockingly sudden turn of events; maybe because she was overwhelmed and utterly fed up with being surrounded by so many men trying to hurt her, or maybe the evil she faced today superseded all her prior experiences, but the encounter had shaken her a lot more than the ordeal with the O’Driscolls had.

After she was all cried out she leaned back into his embrace, feeling calmer and lighter.

“What would have happened to me,” she whispered at long last, “if you hadn’t been there?”

His hands glided over her stomach, his thumb lingering on the small cut on her skin. “I was there.”

“But what if I was alone?” Her head dropped on his shoulder.

He sighed and kissed her temple. “You wasn’ alone.”

His refusal to feed her nightmares was annoying but understandable.

“You were never going to let him leave, were you?”

“No.”

A moment passed.

“He looked young,” she mumbled.

“A young snake’s bite will still kill ya,” he said carefully.

She turned in his lap to sit facing him. Her fingers ran through his hair and danced down his cheeks. For reasons she couldn’t explain, the question of what he had done to the Murfree clogged her throat. Had he slid his neck? Had he stabbed the man to death? Or, in his thirst for poetic justice, had he actually disemboweled him because that’s what the man had threatened to do to her? She was afraid that if she asked, he would actually tell her so she shied away from the question and settled for a whisper of “Why did you kill him like that?”

There was a silence as he watched her, eyes devoid of remorse or doubt while she ran her fingers over the muscles in his shoulders and the puckered reminder of his most recent injury on his left shoulder. “You think less of me for what I did?”

She mulled this over for a few moments, then sighed “No.” In her gut, she knew that as young as he had been, the man had been honest when he had promised to do unspeakable things to her. “It's just...I don’t understand it."

"You won'," he shrugged deftly. "Some men are just evil."

She nodded. "Maybe I can't understand it and you know what - maybe I don't need to." She locked eyes with him. "Because you do and...my safety is your job.” She snaked her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Because you’re my man,” she whispered into his ear as she hugged him.

The hands caressing her back stilled with surprise for a long moment. Then he pressed a long kiss on her shoulder. And another further up her neck. He swiped her hair away as he continued the trail of kisses to her cheek before fingers on her chin turned up her face and he kissed her properly. 

“Damn right I am,” he mumbled against her lips.

[mkstrigidae]

APWH preview snippet!

Since I'm actively trying to work on getting the next few chapters out, I thought I'd share a little future scene with some hints of Jonsa with all you lovely people! This bit is from like, a few chapters in the future bc it's the in-between that's giving me fits right now :) (Fair warning: this is unedited and subject to change! That being said, it's such a fun scene that I can't imagine ever nixing it :D)

“Does he even know that they have to avoid the press?”

“For the last time-“ Sam sighed, sounding completely exasperated, “Dickon knows what they can and can’t do- he’s got enough practice not being photographed from when our dad was the secretary. Not to mention spending time around you when that exposé on your crazy grandfather came out two years ago.”

“I just-“ Jon sighed, blowing a stray curl out of his face. “You didn’t see how freaked out she was when the press caught us at that performance in White Harbor. I thought she was going to have a full-blown panic attack.”

He was immediately derailed by Gilly plopping little Sam down in his lap and shoving a bottle into his hands.

“What’s this all about?” he raised a brow, adjusting the baby on his lap, allowing him to latch onto the cuff of his flannel shirt and start gnawing at the fabric. “You going somewhere?”

Gilly shot him a withering look, but he saw the amusement in her eyes.

“I-“ she gestured, imperiously, “Have not had time by myself to shower all week-“

“Sorry, love.” Sam winced, looking up from his pile of paperwork. “I can take a break from these-“

“Not your fault, Sam.” she waved him off. “You warned me about this conference at the beginning of the summer.” a grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, it works out well- Jon needs a distraction right now from the fact that Sansa’s on a date with your extremely hot and conventionally attractive brother.”

“Hey!” Sam looked wounded, and Gilly rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You know you’re my favorite Tarly.” she wrinkled her nose. “How long have you been working on this presentation? You smell like the baby spit up on you.”

“Guess I’m next in line for showers.” Sam said, mournfully. “Unless-“

“Nope- I need my own time right now, Samwell. Did you even hear what I said about why Jon’s bent out of shape?”

Jon had known Gilly since Sam and she had met up north while the two of them were in college. Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the timid, scared girl she had been with the woman who was currently devoting all of her remaining energy to busting his balls.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about Sansa with my brother.” Sam snorted, shotgunning another cup of coffee next to him the way Jon was used to seeing undergrads do with jaeger shots. “I mean, this is Dickon we’re talking about. Used to bring wounded animals home to take care of them Dickon? The same guy who cried when we had movie night and Gilly and Rhae wanted to go see ‘Love, Simon’?” He shook his head. “Look, as far as guys she could be out on a date with right now go, Dickon’s kind of the best case scenario. She’ll have a nice time, and he’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

Jon blinked at him, silently turning to look up at Gilly, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You’re hopeless, sweetie.” she kissed him on the forehead again, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not worried that things will go wrong- he’s worried they’ll go a little too well.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time around my sister.” Jon muttered, narrowly avoiding little Sam’s grasping reach for his glasses, managing to get the baby to latch onto the bottle before he destroyed any more of Jon’s eyewear. “You even sounded like her just then.”

Sam blinked for a second, his head whipping between Jon and Gilly.“You’re jealous?” He asked, incredulously. “Of Dickon? Wait- you like Sansa?”

“Got there in the end.” Gilly sighed, affectionately patting him on the shoulder before going to shower, leaving Jon and Sam behind with four cups of coffee, one baby, and approximately five brain cells total between the two of them.

“You like her.” Sam repeated, like it was a giant revelation.

“What are we- in middle school?” Jon hissed, immediately turning his head down to smile and make faces at little Sam while he fed him, before glaring up at big Sam again. “I don’t- I mean-“

Sam was just shaking his head.“Of course you do.” he laughed. “Should have guessed- red hair and a damsel in distress? You were doomed from the outset.”

“Shut up.” Jon muttered, flushing. “It’s not like that.”

“Then why are you worrying about Dickon for fu-“ Sam glanced nervously at the baby, “-god’s sake? When Gill was meeting my family for the first time, I remember you told her not to worry- that my brother was ‘one of the best guys you know’ and ‘practically a golden retriever’.”

Jon could tell that Sam, who could not raise one eyebrow without the other, was desperately trying to do just that.

“I don’t know.” He muttered, moving little Sam to his shoulder to start burping him. “Look- I’m attracted to her, alright? It’s a fu- er, a giant disaster that I’m gonna ignore for the rest of my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Stop trying to do that with your eyebrows.” Jon complained. “It’s giving me motion sickness. And yes, seriously. I’m not even going to consider that- it’s just a stupid crush. Besides,” he sighed, rubbing little Sam’s back comfortingly, “Robb’s already dealing with enough right now with this whole Sansa situation- can’t imagine telling him I think his sister’s attractive while he’s being forced to suddenly confront all of his guilt and self loathing every time he looks at her.”

“That whole bro code thing of never dating your friend’s sisters never really made sense to me.” Sam shook his head, gulping down more coffee. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you decided to date Talla, because I know you’d be good to her.”

“Yeah, don't think she'd quite go for that, mate.” Jon snorted, standing to bounce little Sam around gently. He was just grateful Sam hadn’t said anything else about Robb.

“Eh, wouldn’t count you out completely.” Sam shrugged, smirking. “With that hair, you’re pretty enough to be a girl- maybe that’d be enough for her.”

“You are so lucky i’m holding the baby.” Jon muttered, still bouncing little Sam, who picked that moment to spit up spectacularly down Jon’s back.

“Well, that’s three of us who’re gonna need showers now.” Sam grinned, looking thrilled as all get out that it hadn’t been him. “Wow- his aim is getting better.”

“I’m going to remind him of this when he’s a sulky teenager.” Jon grumbled, wiping spit-up off his shoulder as best he could. “Look- no gossiping with Rhae about this, please. She thinks she’s such a good clandestine agent that she doesn’t always realize that Robb is better at sniffing out her plots than she thinks.”

“Alright-“ Sam sighed, looking back down at the massive stack of paperwork in front of him. “I make no promises for Gill, though.”

“Gilly could give some of my Uncle’s colleagues at the WIA a run for their money when it comes to withstanding interrogation.” Jon snorted.

“Probably true.”

“Where did your brother take Sansa?” Still holding onto a now much happier baby with one hand, he reached down the other to take a gulp of his own coffee.

“He said something about going out towards the Tyrell Estate.” Sam shrugged. “They probably drove out there to see the gardens- he’s said it’s a good road to take his bike out on.”

Jon promptly spat out his entire sip of coffee, staining the front of his shirt as well as the back, and frightening little Sam enough that he started to cry.

“He took her on his motorcycle?”

Gilly picked that moment to reappear, completely clean and with wet hair, blinking at the scene in front of her.

Sam, who couldn’t seem to stop laughing, was desperately trying to calm down the baby, who had started wailing, while Jon’s entire front was covered in coffee and his entire back was covered in baby vomit. Not that he seemed to notice, as his face was white and he was making a series of angry looking hand gestures at her husband.

“I really can’t leave you three alone for five minutes, can I?” she sighed. “Do I even want to know?”

[onim5]

Yandere Portgas D. Ace x reader, 3

Chapter 3: Parents

Female reader

Warnings: Mention of killing. Crying

M/n = Your mother. 

F/n = Your father. 

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

This was shit. Your now ex was gone, but he had told your parents. And now you sat in the dining hall before them with Ace next to you. "Y/n, why are you cheating?" M/n asked, with disappointment. "Well-" Ace put his hand on your lap and gave you a heartwarming smile. You knew better, though. This smile was a warning. "I couldn't help it, Ace is just so nice, and he's such a gentleman." You said awkwardly but with a smile. "Wasn't ( your fake man's name ) also nice and a gentleman?" Your father asked. "The only thing he did was talk shit about everyone," Ace said to himself with a sigh. "Y/n is this true?" F/n asked concerned. 

"Well yes, but-" Before you could continue Ace interrupted, "And he tried to hit her, I don't know what he would have done if I wasn't there." Both of your parents stood up and hit the table. "WHAT!!!" Their yell made you cover their ears. "Young man, what's your name?" F/n asked with a hard tone. "The name Portgas D. Ace." He answered as seriously as your parents. "Portgas D. Ace, next time you see him, could  you punch that monster two times one for me and the other one for my wife, and then throw him in a bin?" F/n asked. Ace was about to agree when he saw your mother shake her head and then slide a finger at her neck symbolizing what he should do instead. "Don't worry, I take care of him," Ace answered with a wicked grin. 

You had seen what your mother had signaled Ace. Sure it was bad of ( Your fake man's name ) to try and hit you, but he didn't deserve death. "Well then, Ace. What do you do for a living." M/n asked with genuine curiosity. "I'm the second division commander of the Whitebeard pirates. Fire Fist Ace." Ace said winking. Your mom and dad looked at each other. "Y/n do you really love him?" Your mother asked a bit concerned. Ace squeezed your knee. "Yes." You answered in panic. "Then we accept your relationship, but Y/n you should leave with Ace. It's gonna be too painful for you to have a far-away love."  M/n said holding your father's hand and looking sadly at him. 

Your heart dropped, you can't go with this psycho. You wouldn't survive with him for long. And you would lose everything leaving. You looked at Ace, he had such a soft smile, and worse it looked kind. "I believe it is safest for your kind parents if we leave this evening," Ace said taking your hand and entwining them. "Yeah, don't wanna put mom and dad in danger." You said a bit distant. "I go pack my bags." You smiled and then walked up the stairs. "Babe I wanna get to know you're parents so I stay here," Ace yelled up to you. "That's so nice, we would love to get to know you better." Your F/n said. 

You got three bags done slowly, why did this happen? Why did this Ace get so obsessed with you? Just why? You sobbed quietly as you got what you wanted. He would obviously kill your lovely parents if you didn't comply. What a jerk, what a monster. 

You couldn't help crying as you said goodbye to your parents. Ace also hugged them and then he and you left on a small boat he had stolen, behind it the Striker followed bound in a rope. You stood at the end of the boat and watched as you lost everything because of this guy. Ace steered the boat with a huge smile. He started dreaming about you two's future when a thought crossed him. That made him blush brightly.

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Bonus chapter 1

Author’s note: Suprise!! Look whose muse paid her a visit! 😅 I wasn't planning on writing more of Ben and June's story, but a couple of weeks ago I got inspired (probably because I miss seeing Ben more often and we've been talking a lot about him), and here we are. So far there only are two bonus chapters and there may be a third one in the future, but I can't promise anything since I still don't know how I want to approach the topic it will be about if I end up writing it. Also, these chapters don't continue the story where it ended, they happen some time after what you last read (this first one is like a year after or so). I just I hope I've managed to keep the vibes of their relationship and their dinamics. Sometimes that can be a bit tricky 😅 Anyway, hope you like it, and as always, thank you very much for reading! 💜

First chapter | Last chapter | Bonus chapter 2

Masterlist

“I swear to God, Chilwell. If I trip or hit something and end up injured…”

“You'll fucking murder me, I know.”

“Don't make fun of me” June said, moving her arms in the air, trying to hit him. 

“Just keep walking and stop complaining.”

“I'm playing against United tomorrow. If we win…”

“You'll be a step closer to winning the league, I know. I'm commenting the game, remember?” Ben chuckled. “Wait there.”

“What?”

“Just wait there, June” he said, moving around her and taking her hands. “Now, keep walking.”

“Are you going to tell me why we are in the garden and I have to wear an eye mask or...”

“You are so impatient, Maxwell.”

“Well, you promised me food and cuddles, and I am getting nothing!” she protested.

“Just a few more steps… Here. Stop.”

“Can I get rid of this now?”

“You can.”

“Finally” June sighed while taking off the mask, her eyes taking a minute to adjust to the light. “Now what?”

“Look at what you have in front of you” Ben said.

“That's… What is that?” she asked with a confused look.

“A raised bed garden” Ben smiled.

“A what?”

“It's like a little patch of land where you can grow your own vegetables or whatever you fancy.”

“And why did I need to have my eyes covered to see this?” 

“Because of that” he said, nodding towards the little envelope hanging from one of those tags people use to know where they've planted what. “It's for you, take it.”

“Ok” June said, doing as Ben had asked her. Inside it, there was a key with a J keychain. “I… I don't understand.”

“June” Ben said, grabbing her by the waist and making her look at him. “That's a key to my house. I know you already have one, but this one is different. Because I… Because I want it to be our house.”

“You… what?”

“I want you to move in with me, June. You've basically been living here since we started dating, so why not do it permanently?”

“Ben, I…”

“That's why I set up this” he continued, nodding towards the garden bed. “Because I want you to grow your own vegetables and herbs for all your recipes just like I grow my flowers. To have something you can take care of and help you disconnect from football and everything going on out there. I've actually already imagined us both here during a sunny day like today, taking care of the garden together” he said with a shy smile. “And think about Pepper. Here he could have his own room with all his toys, his bed, one of those big scratching towers… And we could even give him a little brother or sister.”

“A feline one, you mean.”

“Yes, yes, of course. It's too soon for the human one.”

“Oh, so you've already thought about that too.”

“I've been thinking about our life together since the moment I realized I had fallen in love with you and that there was no going back, June. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, grow older with you. I want it all with you, June Maxwell.”

“Ben, I… I…”

It made sense. All he had said made sense. She had started to spend more and more time at his house than hers, and not only because John was seeing someone and she didn't want to walk into them doing… things. Ben's house was closer to the training grounds and to where Lauren and Vittoria lived, and during the season it made things easier for her. The neighbourhood was quieter, people not caring about who she was since they were used to seeing famous people and especially football players all the time. She could also go for walks or a run and not have to care about the traffic, and there were shops, cute coffee spots, parks, and everything she may need. 

And she also was in love with Ben's house. She had been since the first day she had set foot in it. It was the style she liked, and even though the inside still needed some work, it was a place where she could see herself living for a long time, getting older, raising her own family. Like Ben had said, there was enough space for Pepper to enjoy himself, but also for… children. Children with blue kind of grey eyes and brunette curls. Children playing football in the garden, hitting Ben's precious flowers and making him scold them but a minute later cover them on kisses, all while June watched them from the kitchen, cooking them their favourite meal with Pepper at her feet asking her for something to eat.

It was all there, and imagining it, thinking about it, wasn't making her freak out like it could have happened in the past. 

That was the house where she had fallen in love with the man who had changed her life, the one who had mended her broken heart. And whatever the future held for her, for them… she wanted it all with him.

“June” Ben said, caressing her cheek and bringing her back to reality. “June, are you…”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes. I want to move in with you, Ben. I want to use this thing to grow my own tomatoes while you do the same with your flowers, and I want to see Pepper run like crazy around the house trying to catch flies, and I want to argue about who has to take out the rubbish or empty the dishwasher…”

“We already do that” he chuckled.

“Don't interrupt me, Chilwell.”

“Ok” he said, trying really hard to not smile.

“And I want to throw parties with our friends, host dinners for our families, and then maybe get another cat that will destroy our sofa and pee the carpet, and if it's possible… Maybe one day find ourselves renovating a room for a litte one with brunette curls who will drive us crazy and definitely break at least a couple of windows while learning how to play football. And I want to sit on those sofas and watch the sunset every day while resting my head on your chest, cuddling and hearing your heart beating healthy and strong, and I… I want it all. Because I love you, Ben.”

“Can you say that again?”

“All of it?”

“Just the last three words. Well, four if you count my name” he smiled, pulling her closer towards him.

“I love you, Ben” June repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Say it again, please.”

“Chilwell…”

“Please?” he pouted. 

“Fine” she sighed. “I love you. And I want to move in with you. Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.”

“I do, yes. Very much.”

“I love you too, June.”

“I know” she smiled. “Are you gonna kiss me now or do I have to do everything first?”

“You? Seriously?” he laughed. “Who kissed the other first? And opened up first? And say I love you first? Or ask the other to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Or…”

“Shut up, Chilwell.”

“Make me” he smirked.

“Gladly” June said before kissing him. “Do you want to go practice how to make one of those brunette babies?” she whispered against his lips when they managed to break apart.

“Weren't you hungry?”

“We can do that later, we'll need to recharge” she said, making them both laugh. “Besides, we have all the time in the world to cook together in that kitchen.” 

“Our kitchen” he smiled.

“Our kitchen” she smiled back. 

“I love you, June Maxwell.”

“I love you too, Ben Chilwell” she replied, giggling like an idiot as he threw her over his shoulder and walked her inside the house. 

Their house.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Thank you very much for everything, Fred. We could have not done this without you” Ben said.

“You’re welcome. And thank you very much for the photos and the autographs, June. My girls are gonna love them.”

“Of course” she smiled. “And thank you.”

“Just doing our job. Goodbye, lovebirds.”

“Bye” Ben and June said at the same time.

“So…” he said while they watched the moving guys drive away. 

“So” June repeated. 

“Ready to start the new chapter of your life, Maxwell?”

“Ready” she replied, taking a deep breath. “Wait, no.”

“No?” he asked with a confused look.

“We can’t just walk in as if this was something normal.”

“What?”

“We are moving in together for the first time, Ben. This is important.”

“I know.”

“Then we can’t just walk in as we always do. It must be special.”

“Ok… What do you suggest?”

“I want you to carry me inside like newlyweds do in movies.”

“You what?” Ben laughed.

“You know what I am talking about, don't you?” she asked him.

“Of course I do, Maxwell.”

“Then c´mon. I’ve always wanted to do it” June said, extending her arms towards him.

“Really? Has it been like a childhood dream or something?” he teased her.

“It actually has, yes. So come here, Chilwell. Pepper is inside already, and I’m pretty sure he is freaking out in his carrier, asking himself where the hell he is.”

“Fine” Ben sighed, trying to hide his smile. “Let’s go” he said before lifting her in his arms. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yep” she smiled, kissing his cheek. “Thank you very much, Chilwell.”

“Anything for you, Maxwell” he smiled back.

“And I love you, by the way.”

“I love you too, June” he said before walking into his house.

Their house.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Not again, bro!”

“Everything alright, Chilwell?” June said from the living room.

“Of course not!” Ben replied, joining her. “That bloody cat did it again!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Him!” he said while pointing at Pepper, who was sitting on the sofa next to June, too busy cleaning his paws. “He did it again!”

“Do what?”

“Pee on my trainers, June!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Pepper, did you pee on Chilwell's trainers again?” she asked him while petting his head.

“He isn't going to reply, Maxwell. He is a cat” he said, rolling his eyes. “And he did. Smell this.”

“Eww, Ben. Get that away from my face!” she said when he moved his trainer closer to her face. “And it isn't Pepper’s fault.”

“Isn't it?” he laughed.

“He still is adjusting to the new house and is a bit stressed. He needs time.”

“June, it's been three months.”

“And?” she shrugged.

“Urgh” Ben groaned. 

“But you know, maybe he would pee somewhere else if you kept your trainers in just one place and not all over the house.”

“What?”

“This morning I tripped with one and almost fell on my face, and I have a photoshoot tomorrow. What if I had broken my nose or something?”

“Oh, so now it is my fault that your cat isn't properly trained?” he said, raising his voice.

“He is properly trained!” she said, also raising her voice. “But maybe you are the one who isn't, Chilwell.”

“Oh, fuck off, Maxwell!” Ben said, leaving the room.

“Yes, go away! But be careful, you may trip with one of your trainers!” she replied, hearing him close a door somewhere in the house with a loud bang.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“June, is everything alright?” Lauren asked her.

“Yeah” she said while taking off her boots.

“Is it? Because you sucked at training today. Big time.”

“Did I?”

“C'mon, June. You know it better than anyone. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“June…”

“Ok, fine” she sighed. “Ben and I had an argument.”

“Again?”

“Yes, Lauren. Again.”

“What happened now?”

“Pepper peed on his trainers. When we moved in he started doing it in different corners of the house and the vet told us that it was normal after such a big change. But lately he's started to do it on Ben's shoes.”

“Could he be marking his territory?”

“I don't know, Lauren” June sighed again. “They've always gotten along, you know? Like, Ben was with me the day I took Pepper home, he helped me with everything. But now… I don't know.” 

“Maybe you should go to the vet again.”

“Maybe… But all this mess with Pepper isn't the only thing going on. Since I moved in, we've been constantly arguing because of the most stupid things. Things that we were ok with or that didn't bother us when I was just staying in the house and nothing was official. And I just… I…”

“You what?” Lauren said, taking her hand on hers and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“What if we weren't ready to take this step just yet? What if it was a mistake? What if we are…”

“June, don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't you dare going there” Lauren said, threatening her with her finger.

“Go where?”

“To start thinking you and Ben being together is a mistake or whatever crazy thought was crossing your mind right now. You didn't go through everything you went through to end things just because your cat has a weak bladder.”

“What?” she laughed. 

“June, you love Ben and he loves you, and you are meant to be. But living together isn't easy, and things won't always be rainbows and glitter.”

“I know. But Lauren, we've been living together for three months, and all we've done is argue.”

“I'm pretty sure you've done more than just argue” she smirked, making June roll her eyes. “But you also chose to move in together before the most stressful months for both your jobs. Feeling like this is normal.”

“Is it?”

“It is, trust me. You should see the arguments we have at home. And when I meet on the weekends with my parents, and Reece also is there… You don't want to witness that.”

“You can be quite scary when you are mad” she chuckled.

“I know” Lauren smiled. “So stop overthinking so much, and talk with Ben about all this. He may be feeling the same too.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thank you, Lauren.”

“You're very welcome, June. Now go shower, you stink.”

“Me?” she gasped.

“Actually, you both stink” one of their teammates said, June and Lauren both throwing their dirty shirts at her before they all started laughing.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ben?” June said, meeting him in the garden once she got home after training, Pepper running inside the house as if his life depended on it. “Ben, what happened?”

“That bloody cat of yours, that's what happened!”

“Pepper?”

“Do you have more cats?” he spatted.

“There is no need to use that tone, Chilwell” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did he do now?”

“He ruined my flowers, that's what he did. Just yesterday I planted some new seeds here, and look” he said, pointing at the soil at his feet. “He dug them all out to do his business.”

“Are you sure it was him? I haven't been in the garden for the past few days, and I don't allow him to be outside if I'm not with him in case he tries to run away.”

“He did it today while I was watering the other flowers.”

“Then it is your fault, Chilwell. Not his.”

“What?” he laughed.

“You let him outside and didn't keep an eye on him” she shrugged.

“I can't fucking believe it, June. Why do you keep defending him?”

“Because he's done nothing wrong?”

“He's not… Whatever.”

“Ben, where are you going?” she said as he walked past her, completely ignoring her.

“To Mason's.”

“I thought we were going to cook dinner together.”

“Not today” he said before taking his car keys and leaving the house, those being the last words he said to June for the rest of the day. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Pepper? Pepper, where are you?” June called. “Pepper?”

“Can't find that devil of yours?” Ben said while going through his notes for the next game.

“I can't, no. Have you seen him?”

“He was chilling on the sofa when I sat down.”

“Well, he isn't there anymore.” 

“Have you checked where I keep my shoes? He may have needed a wee wee.”

“Not funny, Chilwell” she said. “But I already checked upstairs and he wasn't there.”

“Did you check all the wardrobes and under the beds? He likes hiding there.”

“I checked every corner, Ben.”

“That's weird” he said, putting down his pen and finally looking at her. “Let me help you.”

“You want to help me find that bloody cat like you like calling him?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, I do. What rooms have you checked down here?”

“Most of them. Ben, if we can't find him…”

“June. June, hey” he said, suddenly showing up next to her and taking her hands on his. “We are going to find Pepper. He probably is sleeping inside a cupboard and that's why you can't find him.”

“Yes” she nodded, trying to not start crying.

“C'mon, let's go room by room together.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“He isn't anywhere, Ben” June said, now properly crying. “If something has happened to him…” 

“He is ok, you'll see.”

“You can't know that!”

“June, we are gonna find him. I promise you” he said while hugging her. 

“But we've checked everywhere! Everywhere! Upstairs, down here, in the garage, the gym… He is gone, Ben.”

“There is one place we haven't checked yet, tho.”

“What?” she said, lifting her head from his shoulder and looking at him.

“The garden” Ben said, biting his lower lip. “I went outside earlier, and I think…”

“You think what, Chilwell?”

“I think I didn't close the door.”

“You… Benjamin!” June said, slapping his face and taking a step back, leaving his embracement. “What if he's gone outside? What if he jumped the fence and went on the road and a car hit him? What if he's… if he's…”

“He's gonna be fine, June” he said, his face burning where she had slapped him.

“You can't know that, Chilwell! If something has happened to him, I… I… He's like family, Ben” she cried. “I know he is just a cat, but he is like family to me. And if something has happened to him…”

“Nothing has happened to him, June” he said, closing the space between them again and wiping her tears. “He's a clever boy. Sometimes too clever” he chuckled.

“But he's never been outside, Ben. He's grown up inside a flat, he doesn't know what a car is. Or dogs! What if a dog attacked him and…”

“He is ok, June. He… Are you waiting for someone?” he said when someone rang the bell.

“No” she replied.

“Wait here, I'm gonna check who it is.”

“Ok” she nodded, sitting down on the sofa and trying to control the tears that were threatening to come back. “Who was it?” she asked when she heard Ben coming back.

“June…”

“I hope that if it was someone coming to pay us a visit, you told them to go away. I'm not in the mood to see anyone.”

“Not even him?” Ben asked her.

“What… Pepper!” she screamed before running towards where Ben was standing, the cat in his arms. “Oh, Pepper!” she cried.

“Told you he was ok.”

“Is he?” she said, checking him while he just purred.

“He is. He apparently jumped the fence and was chilling with the neighbours’s dog.”

“What?” June said, her eyes wide.

“The neighbour said that she found them sleeping together on her dog's bed, but that earlier one of her kids also saw them eating and playing together.” 

“They… Is that true, Pepper?” she asked the cat.

“Meow” he replied as if understanding what she had just said.

“I can't believe it” she chuckled, giving him a hug before he complained and ran away. “Now he'll go take a nap as if he hadn't scared the hell out of me.”

“And it was all my fault” Ben sighed.

“What?”

“I'm sorry, June. I'm sorry about not closing the door today and about the way I've been behaving lately and especially with Pepper. That slap you gave me… I totally deserved it.”

“I… Umm… It's ok.”

“It isn't, June. Like, we just moved in together. We should be happy and on cloud nine, not constantly arguing about the most stupid things. And it is all my fault.”

“Arguing about stupid things is part of the experience, tho.”

“Not like this, June. Not like this.” 

“Ben…”

“There is something I have to tell you. Something I've been thinking for a while and that I think is what has had me so on edge lately, making you pay for it.”

“What… you…” There it was. He was going to break up with her. He had realized that things weren't working out between them anymore, and he was going to end things with her, breaking her heart in so many pieces that she was sure she was never going to recover from it and…

“I'm quitting my job” Ben said.

“I beg your pardon?” June replied, raising her voice.

“I’m quitting my job” he repeated.

“But… why? I thought you loved being a pundit!”

“And I do, but… I feel a bit burnt out. And before you say anything, no, it isn't because of my heart. That one keeps being healthier than it has ever been, all thanks to you” he smiled. “It's just that… I don't know. I need a break.”

“A break?”

“Yes, a break. There are gonna be changes at work and… well. Let's just say that I don't agree with some of the decisions they are going to make.”

“Are they going to fire people?”

“Among other things, yes. But besides that, lately we both have been so tired, especially after a game day, that we can't even enjoy having dinner together without one of us constantly yawning, and I feel like we only spend actual time together to have sex. Not complaining about it tho, don't get me wrong. It keeps being amazing” he smirked. “But I want to go back to doing all the things that made us fall in love with each other. The things that make us happy. Like cooking together when you are back from training, me picking you up after a game and having a kinder egg ready to cheer you up or congratulate you if you've scored, going out for a walk and getting breakfast at our favourite spot… I miss all that, June. I miss us.”

“I miss it too” she said.

“So that's why I'm quitting. Because I love you and I want our relationship to work. Because I want the same things you told me about when you said yes to moving in together. From growing tomatoes, to watching the sunset in the garden, to starting our own family one day. I want it all with you, June Maxwell” he said, caressing her cheek.

���And I with you, Chilwell” she replied. “But I can't let you give up on your career because of me. I can't.”

“I'm not giving up on anything. I actually have a plan b” Ben smiled.

“You do?”

“Yep. I'm gonna get certified to be a manager.”

“Wait, what?”

“It was something that had never crossed my mind, but now… I don't know. After commenting football for so many years, I think I could be a good manager. Maybe not to be on a Premier League team, but with kids…” he shrugged.

“Gaffer Chilwell, uh? It doesn't sound that bad” she smiled.

“It doesn't, does it?” he smiled back.

“But Ben… Are you sure about this? Are you sure this is what you want?”

“100% sure, June. It's time for a new chapter. One where I'm gonna keep loving you and supporting you every single day.”

“And one where I will do the same with you, Chilwell. Loving you and supporting you every single day and on every step you take. Because I love you, Ben.” 

“Say it again, please. I think I haven't heard you properly” he smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“I love you more than anything, Benjamin James Chilwell” she said, putting her arms around his neck. 

“Even more than kinder eggs?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“A lot more.”

“Wow” he chuckled. “That is a lot.”

“Yep” June smiled. “And it will be forever.”

“Forever?” Ben asked, brushing his nose against hers.

“Forever” she repeated before kissing him.