#it feels like offering your heart on a gold-laced platter. but they have a full stomach & your heart is left to rot

[leori-the-unlearned]

i make too many references and jokes and in-knowledges for myself and never put it out for the chance someone else could love them. i write and tell so many stories for myself, and i hardly ever write them to share with others. i leave so many things to my mind that i’ve never made real,

and it’s scary. because if an idea is bad, you either forget it or ignore it while it dwells in your head against your preferences.

but if a project is bad, then you’ll have spent time (that was already going to pass anyways) on nothing useful (that already was less real than you’ve made it now, and was already less useful than you’ve begun to make it, and you had less experience than you have now after trying) and that means you suck

[aadmelioraa]

Foolish Heart (Aethelflaed x Aldhelm, 1.6k, rated M)

It's Christmas in Aylesbury, and the Lady of Mercia has grown weary after the day's festivities. Luckily, Aldhelm is by her side to attend to her.

Or

Christmas gift exchange but make it sexy.

A/N: I blame this post and the TLK Cast Christmas Greetings video. This is my little gift to everyone who ships this teeny tiny ship. You are all lovely people and I adore you. Happy Holidays ❤️

The hall at Aylesbury was filled with such revelry and cheer that it spread to the gates of the city and beyond, spilling out to the farthest reaches of the kingdom. Light and laughter and generosity reigned, unlike anything that had been seen in the years Aethelred had been on the throne. Under Lady Aethelflaed’s leadership, Mercia had never been stronger nor happier. 

Aethelflaed had been full of light all day as well. Aldhelm could not deny it filled his heart with gladness to see her smiling so often. Every small thing seemed to bring her joy in this season. 

Aelfwynn too made him glad. She had been permitted to stay up much past her usual bedtime and help distribute gifts to each member of the household, a task she took quite seriously, looking much like her mother as she trotted to and fro to locate each recipient. It must have been nearly midnight when the child finally grew weary enough to let him carry her away to bed. He caught Aethelflaed’s eye as he lifted Aelfwynn into his arms, and as the girl rested her head on his chest Aldhelm had never been more content in his duty. 

read the rest below or on ao3

He returned to the hall moments later after passing the precious cargo into the capable hands of Sable. Aethelflaed maintained her regal posture but her expression had grown weary. Lord Cynewulf, it seemed, had approached her with a request—he had become rather too familiar of late. The Lord was lingering by, talking a bit too loudly of his good fortune for Aldhelm to find appropriate. He had overindulged in the mead, most likely. Aldhelm steered him towards the end of the hall where his wife was seated, where he would be less likely to disrupt the festivities.  

Finally resuming his seat at Aethelflaed’s side, he was able to appreciate how elegant the hall looked. The tables were draped with garland and covered in platters bearing meats, fruits, and bread, flagons of cider and ale. Dozens of torches, still burning brightly, caught upon the silver and gold scattered throughout the hall adorning the finery of their guests. The room had never appeared so well used. 

“You should have a drink, Aldhelm.”

He turned to see his lady’s gaze fixed on him. Her eyes were dancing and her cheeks slightly ruddy from her own goblet—the weariness seemed to have abated, at least for now. 

Aldhelm raised his glass in a silent toast and took a sip. She smiled, but before he could speak was solicited by an Ealdorman who had appeared before them. 

This was always the way, even on high holidays—perhaps especially, even. And she did not complain. She was content in her duties much as he was, but she was also tired. He could see the weight of it in the way she carried herself when they were alone, in the small lines that had appeared at the corners of her mouth and eyes over the past few years. 

Finally, the Ealdorman bowed and made his way from the head table. Aethelflaed sighed, almost too softly to be heard above the chatter in the hall, and tapped her fingertips against her near-empty goblet. 

“You ought to rest,” he could not help himself from advising. 

She turned to him with one brow arched, an expression more amused than incredulous. “Is that a command, Lord?”

“Merely counsel, my lady.”

She appeared satisfied with that answer. Her face resumed its neutral expression as she took another sip of wine, though he could sense her thoughts simmering below that tranquil surface. 

The feast carried on and he remained by her side, but in time her eyelids grew so heavy she could no longer hide her exhaustion. He would not make his recommendation a second time—that was not his way, nor had it ever been necessary—but would wait for her to make up her own mind.

It had grown very late indeed when she finally turned to him again, placing a hand on his arm. 

“You are right.” Her voice was layered with contentment as well as fatigue. “I will rest.”

He brushed his fingers over hers, watching the way her mouth curved into a smile at his touch. “Would you like me to carry you there?” 

“No, but I will accept the offer of an escort.”

He obliged with a nod and offered his arm as they slipped from the room. There were, of course, eyes upon them—rumors dogged at her heels, always—but she defied any man to accuse her of a lack of loyalty. She had shed her own blood for Mercia dozens of times and would do it dozens more. She would rather die than betray the land she had come to love so dearly. He would rather die as well. So far, they had danced around the line but never crossed it. 

This night, however…this night felt different. 

Aldhelm lingered on the threshold of her chambers, expecting to bid her goodnight and make his way to his own room. But rather than allowing him to caress her hand or (as he had hoped), herself bestowing a kiss on his cheek, she drew him inside with her. 

He closed the door behind them, heart pounding in his chest. She was already removing her boots and hose. 

Aethelflaed turned her back to him, gesturing to the lacing that ran up her spine to secure the bodice of her burgundy gown, reserved for the most sacred occasions.

“My maid would help me, but…” 

He complied, his fingers working with a precision that surprised even him. She had swept her hair over one shoulder, leaving the gentle angles of her neck and back exposed to him. He was unable to resist pressing a kiss to her shoulder as the garment fell to the floor with a gentle whisper. 

Looking down at her he confirmed the fervor in her eyes matched his own desire. She was clad now only in a shift, delicate and sheer, revealing both too much and too little. 

“You ought to rest,” he found himself repeating, though his heart cried within him for his mind to cease its scrutiny.

“I will,” she replied, and taking him by the hand led him towards her bed. 

He knew then, kneeling before her, that should they fan these flames this latent state they had lingered in for so long could never be recovered. 

Aldhelm met her gaze—unflinching, glowing—and wet his lips before asking, “What does my lady command?”

She drew in a deep breath and brought his hand to her breast. 

“I command that you follow every whim of your heart, Aldhelm.”

He felt his mouth go dry. To touch her this way, separated only by a thin layer of cloth and what shred of his good sense remained, was a dream he’d suppressed for years. He obeyed. He was incapable of behaving otherwise, now that she’d leveled the walls between them with a single movement, a single word.

Eyes still locked on hers, he lifted the hem of her garment and placed a hand on each knee. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and her mouth fell open. That was more than he could bear. He dipped his head beneath the curve of her leg and began to follow the whims of his foolish heart. Gradually moving towards her waist, he pressed his mouth along the inside of her thighs, allowing his hands to warm themselves on the altar of her hips.

She exhaled a shaky breath as he neared her cunt, and he paused, extending a hand to take her own where it lay, fingers trembling and arched over the furs lining her bed. 

“Lady—“

One word—a question, a blessing, and a plea all at once. 

“Don’t stop,” she murmured, pressing his hand before she released it. 

She tasted bitter and sweet. She tasted like life, like victory, like beauty. She was beautiful…so beautiful, and so completely unknown to him in ways he had not realized. He had been in love with her for so long, by her side for so many years, he had all but forgotten she had a myriad of aspects he had not been privy to. Even in that moment, as she came undone by his touch, he was supremely aware that he was just now beginning to know her.

Her taste lingered on his lips as he lay beside her, fixed on the way her cheeks flushed with the pleasure he’d brought her, watching her chest rise and fall in sync with his own. She pulled him closer, and he thought how strange it was to feel so strong and so vulnerable at once. She kissed him, and a tear rolled down her cheek to land on his own. He pulled back, concerned, but her expression was one of happiness, not grief. 

He kissed her again, softer this time, then let his forehead rest on hers. She was stroking his beard and he captured her hand, an echo of the gesture he’d attempted prior to their encounter, and brought it to his lips.

“Will you rest now?” he asked, and watched, enchanted, as her smile grew. 

She closed her eyes and lay back in the crook of his elbow, one hand firmly fixed to his chest as if to assure her of his true presence. 

“I will rest, Aldhelm. But in the morning, I will repay your gift in kind.”

Only she could relay so intimate a promise in such authoritative terms. 

[kmikaelsonimagines]

A To Z: A Kol Mikaelson Headcanon

Request from Anon: Could you please do an A-Z with Kol?

Be prepared for lots of fluff; hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

A is for Afternoons

Afternoons spent with Kol are always magical. Whether it’s a walk through the streets of New Orleans, or just lazing about in bed, he’s always got his hand in yours, peppering you with kisses. 

B is for Bloody Hell, You’re Beautiful 

It’s something he says during those more intimate moments, when he’s hovering over you, his hair hanging over his eyes. He’s got his hands on either side of your head, and you smile when he says it, a grin that disappears with a kiss full of fire. 

C is for Cuddles

Your favourite are the ones that come from behind, when Kol wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. They usually occur in the morning, his voice still laced with sleep as he wishes you good morning, before placing a kiss on your cheek. 

D is for Dancing 

Kol’s breath is taken away when he sees you walk down the stairs in that dress, not quite believing that you’ll be his partner for the night. He dances with you, and you’re so elegant as you move with him. He doesn’t know you’re trying ridiculously hard to not step on his toes. 

E is for Everything

It’s what he would give you if he could. Kol believes you deserve everything the world has to offer, and he’d happily present it to you on a silver platter. He can’t, unfortunately, but that doesn’t stop him from treating you like a queen. 

F is for Forgetting The World

Whether it’s when you’re kissing him, or just having those quiet moments, the rest of the world seems to disappear. You are both more than happy to indulge in each other, not quite caring about anything else. 

G is for Goodnight Kisses

These change depending on Kol’s mood. They can be anything from slow and lingering, to sweet and chaste. They can be full of passion, of a fire blazing through your body, or that fire can dwindle providing only a pleasant warmth instead. 

H is for Holding Your Hand

Kol’s fingers will be interlocked with yours, tightly, never wanting to let go. Not that you’d want him to anyway. It shows the world that you’re a real couple, that nothing is ever going to separate you. 

I is for I Love You

Three words that are said everyday, that are reaching that point where they’re said so flippantly, yet they still hold so much power, so much devotion. You never want to hear him stop saying it, knowing that if he does, it will break your heart. 

J is for Just Being Him

You couldn’t have asked for someone better to share your life with, couldn’t have asked for someone to love you more than he does. Kol Mikaelson is perfect in every way, and you never want him to change. 

K is for Kissing

Moments in the bedroom, just kissing. It doesn’t lead to clothes being shed all of the time, just him holding the back of your head, pressing you close to him. Breaking apart only to say those three little words.

L is for Loving Each Other

Kol loves you more than he can put into words. His world would fall apart if you ever left him, which is why he ensures that you’re always safe. He can’t lose you. He just can’t. 

M is for Mornings

Those cuddles from behind, those slow, lazy kisses. Breakfast together, discussing the day’s plans over a cup of tea, him having cooked even though you were the one to wake first, the perfect start to the perfect day. 

N is Nighttime Skies

Kol will sometimes take you for evening walks, finding a spot where you can both stargaze. It’s peaceful, looking up at the night sky, falling asleep under a pitch black blanket littered with spots of gold, his arm wrapped around you as you lay your head on his chest. 

O is for Obviously

“I love you, Y/N.” Obviously. Anyone would have to be blind not to see it. 

P is for Presents

Kol always makes a big deal out of your birthday, treating you being one of his favourite past times. But even if there isn’t a celebration, you’ll often find gifts on your bed, little notes attached with compliments and flattery scrawled over them. You smile, before opening them up, after which you smile only gets bigger. 

Q is for Quiet Evenings

When the rest of the family is out for the evening, you and Kol are sure to take advantage of it. Curled up in front of the fire, under an old blanket, tuned into some old movie, occasionally looking up at him and sharing a moment of mutual satisfaction.

R is for Recklessness

Unfortunately, Kol Mikaelson is still reckless. Always has been, and you’ve accepted that you can’t change that. There’s a small part of you that’s flattered when he acts on his impulses believing he’s protecting you, but you’re sure to scold him when he gets home. 

S is for Sensational 

If you could describe your relationship with Kol Mikaelson in one word, this would be it. It’s not like any relationship you’ve ever had before, you’ve never fallen this far before, but it’s worth it. 

T is for Touches

Just simple touches, his shoulder brushing yours as he passes you, his fingers on your skin, all of these add up to make a moment you’re not likely to forget. You’ll never get used to the feeling of his skin on yours, and you don’t want to. 

U is Understanding

It doesn’t matter which one of you is having a bad day, you’re both just as supportive and understanding as each other. You both know the right things to say to each other, and are sure to help brighten up the other’s day. 

V is for Vulnerability

When you’re feeling vulnerable, Kol is there for you. He’s got his arm around your shoulders and he’s telling you that it’s going to be okay. He’s your light when you feel you’re surrounded by darkness. 

W is Wanting More

It doesn’t matter how many times he kisses you, or how many times he touches you, Kol Mikaelson always leaves you wanting more. You miss him when he’s not there, and you can’t describe the elation you feel when he’s back in your arms. 

X is for XXX

Three little kisses at the end of a text when he’s apart from you. It’s not much, but to you, it means so much more. 

Y is for You’re Mine

Kol never says this in a possessive way, he knows you’re a strong, independent individual that doesn’t belong to anyone. It’s more of a joke between the two of you, but you can’t deny that it makes your heart beat just that little bit faster every time he says it.

Z is for ZZZ

Sleeping with Kol is perhaps one of your favourite things to do. With your head on his chest, you find so much peace just by being with him. The end of a perfect day only for another to begin when you open your eyes. 

Masterlist

[lemonietrinket]

Traditions ||| Prince!Yeosang x Princess!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Fantasy, a bit of angst but a happy ending Warning(s): inferences to death (succession) and natural disaster tragedy  Word Count: 4005 AN: Happy Birthday Yeosang blessed elfin prince. Just thinking about how princely he appears was the only inspiration for this entirely. you can tell i find yeosang beautiful and i will not apologise for that. feminine-presenting Reader Royalty AU

~~~

Wind whistling outside the murky visage of dark stained glass, you made your way through the long corridors to the dining hall. The cold air that nipped at your cheeks was only rebuffed by the delicately carved firebrands that lined the walls, hooded by rouge. 

Even though you wished you had taken Beatrice up on her suggestion that you wear a dress that would match one of your several coats, you couldn’t say you entirely regretted your decision. The way the silver tresses that entwined across your waist was worth the goosebumps beneath long draping sleeves. The amaranthine shine gave you the firm yet free light that reflected in your eyes, gracing all who could see with not only your true colours but also a sight for sore eyes. You’d always suited the soft violet silk, for years having been a private signature that made you feel unique behind closed doors. It did not provide its own form of stability to the people, however, quite like the vermilion did. Knowing that in these times they needed it in every capacity, you garbed yourself in red for the world, while violet remained a treat.

Besides, you knew there was another benefit to the tremors of shiver that ran up your spine and pooled at your exposed shoulders.

Taking the last corner you could finally see the large oak doors that led into the hall in the dim light. They were closed, but a thin sliver of gold broke through their seal, its promise of food inviting you in. However, a few feet away from the corridor’s end, something else stole your attention entirely. A shimmer of auburn in the thick of the night.

Distracted you slowly made your way over to the nearest window, excitement pooling in your chest and fluttering like a bird wishing to be set free.

one pair of small but intricate heels that had been clicking against the rich wood behind you suddenly slowed. Peering back without hesitation, you saw your second lady in waiting’s grin glimmer in the auburn light as she skipped to the nearest window.  Forcing yourself to look beyond the hazy reflection of yourself, you chased the lucrative gold that pierced the night. Your eyes began in the wrong place, too high, where the road began to sink into the distance, but they quickly trailed down to the castle-side, where you spotted, far below, a carriage flickering beside firelight. A warm smile you’d come to know well warmed upon your lips.

“He’s early,” you announced to the air, feeling slightly guilty when the guard stood firmly by the door offered you a startled look

“Who is, Your Royal Highness?” he stuttered, a panicked undertone as he assumed that you’d been talking to him.

You chuckled, feeling relieved as he visibly relaxed, “Why, Graves, my husband of course!” It was clear that he tried to hide the surprise in his expression, not realising that he shared with you.

“I know, absurd right?” you said, sweeping over to the door as he returned your grin at last, before imploring to him in a whisper, “I won’t eat you, Graves, I promise. I’m not like my father.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” He bowed in acknowledgement.

Praying that the interaction would dispel any residing fears, you passed through into the dining hall, tall and imposing. You hadn’t liked it all that much, it was too tall and grand, with chandeliers the size of sleeping quarters and columns whose cracks were filled with molten silver. It was a bit much, especially just for a place to eat, but you knew how much worse it could be. You’d seen your older sister’s, you’d seen the drapes of handwoven silk cast in bright crimson and the intricacies of the hand-carved floorboards, dictating the legends of the early days. As vulgar it was, it was how your father built castles for his kingdom, and it was no wonder that it would be the one you would inherit. 

Ignoring the painted ceiling you ran your eyes along the long mahogany table at the numerous platters dotted across its surface at both ends, lids retaining heat and disguising the beauty inside. You wondered why they always made so much for you when you never ate it anywhere near it all.  The firelight from the large hearth that filled the room with a homely scent of warmth and tranquil danced across the varnished floor, painting it with muffled shades of gold and pink. And there, on the other side of the hall was a shadow that disjointed said light.

Tilting your head up confidently, your fingers interlinking at your waist, you found the man who you had waited for every time, waiting for you.

Having shed his onyx coat and draped it across the back of his chair, you were blessed with just how well suited the deep azure of his kingdom. The satin across his back almost glittered in the light, adorning his neck that craned to let him look off to the left. His shirt was tucked neatly into black leather trousers, that you caught yourself staring at for way too long for the ‘checking for stains’ excuse to run even now (you were pretty sure he hadn’t believed the excuse in the first place anyway, but he hadn’t asked you to stop nor ever brought it up again, and you were pretty sure you’d caught him a few times staring at you so, who were you to complain?) that then slipped into comfortable laced boots. He had to have changed, he couldn’t have possibly worn them outside in such poor weather, and the thought just added to how your heart fluttered—he didn’t have to dress up at all, especially since he would have to go out again tomorrow.

His hand lifting from his hip, he removed his sword in its scabbard and leant it against the wall, before finally turning around.

Even at such a distance you were awestruck. Those gorgeous eyes that stared so knowingly at the world now gazed over at you, leaving you feeling a new shade of vulnerable that had taken a while to get used to, but now you weren’t sure you could live without. As with that vulnerability came his gentleness, the curve of his full lips that uttered sweet things despite his stoic nature, and the touch of his hand that rose to meet yours when you addressed the people. He had confused you at first, worried you the next as neither of you spoke. Now you understood his insecurities and threw any misinformed regrets to the side. Now you could see how his hair seemed to effortlessly curl to frame his face but also to carry a crown. 

His fringe then was mottled with damp, his hat adorning the chair with his coat having had only so much success protecting him from the rain. But he still looked ethereal as he always did, and sounded it too.

“Your Royal Highness,” he greeted as he was taught, a deep bow with his hand pressed to his heart. Even though the awkwardness had subsided between the two of you, you still greeted each other like this, despite what you’d discerned. 

“Your highness,” you returned, unable to hide your wince. Why couldn’t you greet each other like you wished you could? Ignore the rings on your fingers and the arrangements made by family and do it all properly.

He smiled at you and waited for you to take your seat, deep eyes following your every move. You sighed mentally, feeling the small doubts begin to regrow in your mind. Perhaps you’d misjudged entirely and your affections led you to just reach into the dark and cling to the first light that appeared.

Taking your seat, your eyes not leaving his, he at last drew his chair back at the opposite side of the table. You let him get comfortable before removing the closest lid to reveal a huge portion of neatly sliced venison seasoned with a variety of spices and coupled with copious vegetables—half of which you didn’t recognise. It smelt delicious and you took the cutlery into your hands, but with your mind preoccupied with another important matter you didn’t feel like eating at all.

While you ran the sharp edge of your knife across the tender flesh, Yeosang tucked straight in, not that you blamed him. His journey home had been long, sustained mostly on fish that would only remind him of home—that and your cooks being truly something special.

“So, dear husband,” you announced across the long table with a coy smile, timing your words just right so he would have his mouthful when he had to answer you, “how was your trip outside Cresciel’s borders?”

“Hmm...” He noticed the mischief in your lips, opting to take his time mulling your question over as he chewed even slower than before. It was moments like these, where he played along with you and teased in return, that questioned whether doubts should be sown. “It was long, mostly tedious. Earl of Blouze is an utter nightmare.”

“As usual,” you chuckled, the same mix of sympathy and humour bubbling in your chest as when you had found out who he would be travelling with. Yeosang hadn’t found it amusing and had sulked for the rest of the afternoon while the packing began. He looked adorable with a pout on his lips though, and you only cooed at him six times. “And Caillteo?”

He nodded. “Recovering well for how much damage was done. The mines are back up and running again, a good harvest this autumn and they’ll be back on their feet without aid. The people are still on edge but they seem hopeful, and you were right, Caillteoans are tough: they’ve leapt into construction and sharing resources between themselves fairly.”

“That’ll be Xena’s example,” you noted, taking a sip of your drink. Surprised at the sweet kick, you coughed before laughing at yourself, “they’re always leading by example—I’m fine Yeosang, really.”

You spotted the worry in his expression through how it turned blank. He’d explained it to you, bathed in the gold of the afternoon sun that did little to ease his mind. He didn’t want to panic the person in concern anymore than they perhaps already were. That had been the day where you’d run your fingers through his hair, locks smooth as silk and scented of the roses found on the mountainsides. He had softened in your embrace, letting you hold him delicately in the peace of the royal garden, closing his omniscient eyes that were cursed to catch too much. It had proven that just trying to be the stable option for the nation resulted in a chaos of the mind.  You wished he would rely on you more. You were used to it, your sister confided with you her plans to disappear, your mother on the will, your cousins when they visited. You didn’t get the choice in some of those circumstances, but you were willing to take on what Yeosang needed. 

You felt heat flush to your face. Since when had you become so attached to him? This hadn’t been what you had expected to happen at all.

“Yes, they truly are. I listened to their grievances, they were furious at how little respect they had received from Cruter, and extremely thankful for the aid we sent them. It was vital for them to get the waterways up and running again, otherwise it would have flooded the sewage system further and...” he came to an unexpected halt, as if a weight had rolled onto his tongue and forced it still. You placed your knife upon the plate quietly, inclining to listen to what finally followed. 

“Yeosang?” you murmured, though due to the distance you couldn’t be sure he even heard it.

“...Xena was glad to see where my allegiances laid, that seeing me gave them and Caillteoans hope. They wanted me to make it clear to you that their kingdom’s alliances are with you—us—alone.”

“They’ve turned away from your grandfather completely?” You couldn’t hide the surprise that filtered into your voice, but watched him carefully as you spoke in response to it. “He’s turned his most loyal—?”

“It’s what he deserves,” Yeosang interrupted, eyes turned towards his food. He’d paused eating, a cut of meat levied on his fork and he stared it down as if it were Cruter himself, “and I think they know how my father’s reign is going to go.”

He took the bite as if out of spite, digging in thoroughly once again. Meanwhile you were left frowning. “Have they managed to predict Idina too, do you think?” After he didn’t respond, you straightened your posture, worry beginning to sink in. “Yeosang? I don’t rule Cresciel yet, and if the plan falls apart I won’t have much power at all! A-as far as anyone else is aware, my sister is going to inherit the—”

“I don’t know,” he finally replied with the shake of his head, his frown mimicking yours, “that’s all they said.”

With eyes met across the vast mahogany dotted with silver and the firelight, silence seeped into the room, only dispelled momentarily by the crackle of flames. 

Your thoughts gathered in your brain, clustering and talking over one another, interjecting and splitting, producing more and more like a disease.  If others could work it out then it would only be a matter of time before your father would, and that would put both your sister and you in danger. Even being a beacon of calm for the future to the people and surrounding kingdoms wouldn’t be enough to hold your plans together, and if things went truly wrong, not only would you be at huge risk of losing your husband and all the arrangements your marriage made, but there would also be mayhem for the innocents you had subtly promised would be safe.

Your breath came out ragged and you swallowed it to steady. The situation was sticky, but you would pull through. You’d make it work. The King of Caillteo was on your side, and that strengthened what you had. Cruter could hardly have endeared himself to his subjects through his ignorance towards the tragedy—especially since word carried that the angered storm had affected the outer towns upon his Siyanirean borders too. With that in hand and your plan just in the waiting process, it wouldn’t be long before Yeosang was King in his grandfather and father’s stead and the kingdoms were united, working peacefully instead of warring like they always did.

Digging your nails into your palms, you wondered why your nerves wouldn’t simmer down. You’d gone over the plan hundreds of times, and things were moving in your favour—both should have eased the sudden attack of worry. But they didn’t, and you were left with bruise-purple divots in your palms, and quivering fingers. You wanted them to be held still, you didn’t like the sight of them fragile. You wanted to be held, by Yeosang—no other would do, as no one else understood it all. He was the only one who knew the details of the full plan, knew what the pressure was like. But he was on the other end of the table.

It seemed ridiculous that a table and a (comparatively) short distance was holding you back. There were no physical barricades, the grandiose chairs tucked in neatly, the food too cold to even eat and get you to stay. Yet, even though your feet twitched, your body didn’t move to go to his side and ask for comfort, like you’d given to him that golden afternoon before.

“Did you miss anything,” your mouth spoke out of the blue, “while you were gone?”

Had your husband looked up he would have noticed the disjoint between your calm tone and your stony expression. But he didn’t, not yet. 

“Not my ship if that’s what you’re asking,” he retorted, assuming you were teasing him once again. After finishing another bite you stared as his face softened, “Though I guess I missed some company.” When you didn’t speak up, voice trapped in your throat as your brain ticked over what he meant, he continued, “The nights were cold, so I thought I missed the warmth of here. They were also quiet, and so I thought I missed the sounds of here but... the more I thought about it, the more I realised that this castle is just as quiet as the other ones I stayed in, and when I added blankets it made no difference. 

“And then I had to speaks to others and, well... every time I met with the nobles, it felt as if they looked down on me, as if I wasn’t really one of them despite my claim. I knew it shouldn’t surprise me, as my grandfather is, well, my grandfather and no one knows just how poor my father’s health is but... even the people didn’t believe I was the real deal, and they were the nice ones. Others I’m sure couldn’t comprehend I was capable of making a difference at all.”

As he trailed off, with your eyes hazy you countered plainly. “And you wanted me there so they somehow wouldn’t? If I was there they wouldn’t look at you at all.” You would have winced at the harshness of your words, consoled him with an apology and the distraction of food or a change of scenery, but you didn’t. You cursed yourself for being selfish.

Yeosang however didn’t seem to take it to heart, trying to explain clearer. “No I mean... it’s easier to chase the doubts of my own abilities away with you at my side. Because you believe in me.”

After cleaning his plate his pretty eyes flicked up to take you in at last, only to become flecked with worry. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Debating and answer in your head you remained silent, gaze dropping to your lukewarm food without a single chunk missing. Clutching your hands together in your lap in an effort to control the quiver in them, you avoided his stare. “I really mean that much to you?”

Out of your peripheral you caught his nod. “Of course. You’re my closest friend, my rock, I don’t think I could have ever succeeded like this without you.”

You peered up at him at last, to catch the sincerity on his features. The apples of his cheeks had a blushed hue, so did the tips of his ears. But you couldn’t make out the etches upon his lips, or the birthmark adorning the corner of his eye. He was too far away, all because of stupid rules. “Then why are you so far away?” you poised.

There was a heavy silence that seemed to even mottle the crackling in the hearth. Your gaze trailed over to the dancing flames, warm and dynamic like the flushes of first love—like your heart.

“Because I didn’t think you wanted me any closer.”

Your head whipped up to him as soon as his words graced the air and the creak of wood scraping across wood resonated through the floor. Yeosang, with footfalls cautious, was making his way across the dining hall towards you. You straightened your back, mouth agape but with no words to fill the space.

Even though it felt like the journey took hours, he was suddenly at your side, brow creased with concern as he placed one hand tentatively on the back of your chair. 

“Y/N, I...”

“I missed you too.”

Chin tilted up you took in the sight of the man you had married properly. How his jaw curved, how his chest rose and fell as he breathed, how his hair slowly fell out of place to cover his eyes while he peered down at you. Months of past worry trickled through from your subconscious as you remembered the anxieties you’d had about your marriage. You trusted your mother’s decision, but that didn’t mean you didn’t interrogate yourself nightly on whether you could be happy being married to a man you didn’t love romantically, one that you didn’t desire sensually. 

You hadn’t slept the night before the castle doors opened to welcome in your chosen suitor. You’d been informed it was a tough and arduous selection process but you had blanked most of it out. With a stone-set face you had been helped into a dress of your sister’s—flowing scarlet with gold lace at the neck—before adorning your neck with an amethyst necklace despite the advice you were offered. Then you took those wide grand stairs down to where your soon-to-be fiance waited, arm interlinked with your sister’s. She had smiled and said something to you, but you hadn’t paid any attention—this time for a good reason.

After days on end of worrying, you were confronted with a meek young boy who could easily have been mistaken to be years younger than you. Garbed in rich navy, he stood prostrate at his father’s side, his posture displaying confidence as he was instructed while his stare flit upon the engraved ground.  When you had taken the final step and swept across the varnished pearl beneath your feet your families greeted heartily while you stared at the boy who eventually worked up the courage to stare back. ‘He isn’t real’, had been the first thought to flash in your mind. After all he had full cloudy cheeks and wide set dark eyes that made him look as if he was borne of another realm. You wondered if the pink blemish upon his temple was a sign of that: a deity’s way to prove that he was in fact human and not an angel. Eyeing him up and down you had found a body just out of proportion to be considered finished, but you guessed he would grow, and fit his elfin face one day in the future.  Overall, he had washed your worries away and replaced them with a newfound curiosity that you hadn’t mentioned to him before.

Of course, you had been right, he did grow. His shoulders broadened and chest filled out while his cheeks retained the majority of their softness. He grew then to become more open, a smile flourished on his lips and once that happened it was only a matter of time. Regardless, despite all his changes that young boy was still there, still watching carefully, even now.

Yeosang stood at your side quite like he had done all those years ago—back rigid, eyes trailing away from where he wanted to focus them. And it softened your heart, practically turned it to pulp, when he finally spoke in a voice completely different to the boy from your past, “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

You watched as he bit his lip disappointedly, as if he’d admitted something wrong. 

“Me too,” you breathed, dispelling his worry and turning it into a startled expression as you stood with him. Your fingers came up to his collar, straightening it out absentmindedly as you met his eyes properly this time. “Forget the rules, forget the traditions, Sangie?” you suggested in a whisper.

He nodded, a smile rising to his lips so bright that you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands gently, he dipped in to let your lips finally meet, a hum bubbling through your chest in satisfaction. He was finally close to you, and he felt so different from what you’d imagined. His embrace pulling you close he radiated warmth. His lips tasted of the berries that he had drank and his touch was so fluid and soft across the skin of you back. You didn’t mind, you liked how wrong you were. 

Because he kissed you just like the tradition didn’t dictate, and though it had been the arrangements of others that brought your love to you, it was time to do it your way.

~~~

AN: I was going to make yn a duchess bc like princess is overdone and then i got confused and like shite just bc im british doesnt mean i understand the royal family one bit, let alone the hierarchy of titles

so yeah yn is a princess wbk

also this is much longer than the other presents only bc i got carried away i realise i like royal aus and this just wrote itself i promised myself i wouldnt do this with bday presents but oop

any names of the staff at the royal household were randomly generated place names were made using various words put into indifferentlanguages.com +  the word combiner on wordunscrambler.net (so any resemblance to rel places is unintentional)

(also none of yeosang’s relations are based on any of his real family of course, theyre just made up. i imagine yeosang loves his family very much and so this is just creative license)

~~~

Masterlist

[mythicamagic]

Swimming in Silk - Chapter 16

Training in front of her, engaging her in conversation and now lending her his clothes…Kagome is starting to suspect that Sesshoumaru is trying to gain her attention.

Sesskag - Romance, Humour, Drama, Angst

Rated M - As always you can read this story on Ao3, fanfiction.net or Dokuga

Chapter One - here       Previous Chapter - here      Next Chapter - here

Caged Canines ~

The group travelled throughout the night, taking occasional breaks. Kagome finally called for them to properly rest once they reached the bottom of a steep cliff-face, taking shelter under a large outcrop of rock. Once they were settled, Kagome removed the arrows jutting out from Kaito's back.

With help from the remaining servants, she bandaged his wounds- wrapping his leg. The stump he was left with made him fall into pensive silence.

Kagome then tended to Inuyasha, who remained unconscious, and food was later scrounged. Inukimi shot her an 'I told you so' look, sneering at the meagre offering of wild berries. Kagome rolled her eyes, biting back a retort.

I don't exactly carry silver platters with me.

She noticed the General's silence, noting his ashen face and vacant, morose stare. Looking at him only reminded Kagome of what they'd left behind, and she quickly stood, moving to sit beside him. She couldn't bring herself to unpack all that mess just yet.

Clearing her throat, she smiled. "Inukimi, you still have that prayer bead in you, right?"

"Mn, wretched thing." Inukimi lit her pipe, taking a drag.

Kagome turned to Kaito. "General, I can't really get to the bead, and I'm worried about causing further distress to Inukimi's delicate nerves-" the Lady promptly snorted. "So…could you pull it out?" She sent him a pleading look for good measure.

His eyes seemed to refocus, back slowly straightening. "Yes…yes, of course-" he made to rise but Kagome quickly set her hand on his arm.

"I'm sure our Lady doesn't mind moving closer herself."

Inukimi tutted, but nonetheless rose, gracefully sitting beside the General and shifting furs and silks aside to bare her shoulder.

General Kaito stared, before quickly shaking himself and checking the wound. Peering around him, Kagome noticed a faded mark on her skin above the wound. Blinking, it suddenly occurred to her what it was, or rather- used to be.

A mating mark.

Inukimi met her gaze, lips quirking. "It was just a superficial mating, nothing more."

"Oh. Yeah, I remember," Kagome murmured. It looks just like mine though.

The demoness hissed, eyes snapping red as Kaito plunged two claws into her wound- successfully ripping out the bead and holding it between forefinger and thumb.

"Mind yourself," Inukimi snapped, glowering. "Gentle as ever. This one shouldn't have expected anything less from you."

"You and I both know you do not have a 'delicate nerve' in your body, my Lady. You're fine," Kaito rumbled, crushing the bead in the palm of his hand.

Inukimi dismissed him, curtly puffing on her pipe as Kaito tended to the wound. Gold eyes slid over his shoulder, noticing Kagome's silence. When she next exhaled, the smoke arranged itself into the mark of their House. Curls of cherry blossom seemed to frame it- branches entwining with the thick crescent moon. "This is what a full mating mark looks like for Inuyoukai, if you were curious~"

Kagome stared, hearing Chiyo's words. Swallowing, she lowered her gaze. "So…you knew. When you first saw my mark, you knew we hadn't completed a full mating."

"Naturally, since your life-spans did not bind."

"I wonder why. What would be the cause?"

She'd always figured as much from what Inukimi had said after the mating, but hadn't had the luxury of time to think on it. "Bokuseno said it was possible for humans and demons to mate, but when Sesshoumaru mentioned binding our lifespans, he immediately shut it down."

Kaito and Inukimi shared a glance. The Lady opened her mouth, but Kaito shook his head.

"Hey- tell me. You totally owe me big time, buddy." Kagome grumped.

The General sighed, having the grace to look mildly contrite. "Have you considered the possibility that Lord Sesshoumaru was mated before you? That you were not his first mate."

"I- no!" She gaped, mouth falling open. "H-he would have told me!"

Inukimi lifted a pale shoulder. "It is what came to my mind as well. If it were true, then there are two possibilities. Either this 'first' mate died before you, and my son remains in mourning, preventing him from binding you completely to him, or…he is still mated to her."

"There's no possibility because he isn't," Kagome said firmly. "It has to be something else."

He'd gotten so angry when she'd yelled at him about her fear of him being unfaithful. She felt in her heart that he couldn't have someone else in his life.

Someone secret.

Kagome shook her head, hugging her knees. But then, why else hadn't their mating worked? "Come to think of it, Sesshoumaru was set on talking to Bokuseno before we even mated. He asked about immortality, almost as if he'd known our mating wouldn't completely work."

The elder demons hummed, seeming to focus on the conversation to distract themselves from the present. Kagome certainly dived in too. She could still smell the burning wood of the Great Demon Tree.

"Well, I certainly do not know the reason." Lady Inukimi fixed her furs and rose. "I do not care for berries. Now that I'm healing again, this one will see if there is more…substantial food." Turning gracefully, she left their little make-shift camp.

The General and miko lapsed into silence, but it wasn't as tense as Kagome had expected it to be.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "About your men turning on you. It's horrible."

He glanced at her in surprise, "there's no need to apologise. It was my failing that the tree was destroyed, not yours."

"It's not our fault at all…" she sighed, glancing at the night sky.

"I wish to re-join the battle." Kaito quietly admitted. "There is no honour in wallowing in injuries."

Kagome rose a brow. "You are missing a leg, sir. I think you're allowed some R & R."

"As I recall, the Lady of my House once injured her ankle, and she carried on her duties."

"Really? Inukimi did-" she stopped the moment he pointedly looked at her, gruff features arranged into something weathered but…almost gentle.

Kagome gave a slow, hesitant smile, before hearing movement. White hair slid over shaking shoulders as Inuyasha lifted himself up into a sitting position.

"Gn, crap."

"Inuyasha!" She quickly rushed over, supporting his shoulder.

Confused gold peeled open, and he winced, holding his bandaged abdomen. "The fuck…Kagome? You're here? What happened-" he tossed his head, glancing around sharply. "Where's the battle?"

"We had to take you with us and leave it behind."

Sharp teeth flashed as he growled. "Damn it! What'd you do that for! I gotta-" his ears pricked, and the Hanyou suddenly leapt up, slashing through an incoming arrow that had been sailing toward Kaito.

"Get down!" Inuyasha barked, wincing and holding his side.

A group of men and women approached, levelling arrows and spears at them. Kagome could tell from their pointed ears and colourful hair that they were youkai, but she remained uncertain about their species.

"We don't want any trouble…" she said, holding her hands up and reeling from the unexpected attack. She should have been paying better attention!

Inuyasha didn't get the hint, drawing Tetsusaiga but weakening. His bandages reddened with opened wounds.

"Hold," Kaito put his hand on the Hanyou's arm. "These are troops from the Foxes forces."

A new demon approached from the back of the group, dressed in finer armour. He rose a bushy brow, several tails swishing behind him curiously.

"General Kaito?" He motioned to the troops, who reluctantly lowered their weapons. "We heard about the West. What news do you bring?"

"It was hit quite badly," Kagome spoke up, seeing her opportunity. "Please, this group is weary, do you have any room to take them in?"

She decided not to push her luck and refrained from asking for troops to go fight for them. The apparent leader of the Fox group inclined his head.

"We have plenty of room and resources. I am sure the Den leaders would accept you. Apologies for the attack~ we're a little on edge since the clans were simultaneously attacked," he smiled broadly, a mischievous glint in his eye that reminded her of Shippo.

The servants from the West immediately jumped at the offer, hurrying forward, and even Kaito seemed relieved. Kagome glanced behind the newcomers, noticing Inukimi wryly observing them while smoking. She didn't appear thrilled at the notion of rooming with Foxes.

Kagome exhaled, wiping sweat from her brow. At least she'd gotten the group to safety.

Now I just have to return to Sesshoumaru and-

She stopped, feeling the tell-tale signs.

"Not again," she grit out, glancing at Inuyasha with panic lacing her scent. "It's happening again," she said in a thin voice.

His ears flattened, and the Hanyou glanced her over. "Kagome…"

"Go with her, whelp," Inukimi said in a firm voice. "Your wounds will slow us down, and she will only fret if she leaves you."

"But-"

"Go." Kaito nodded, shoving the Hanyou toward the girl, whose image began to waver. "Accompany the Lady."

Inuyasha stumbled, gritting his teeth and grabbing Kagome's hand on impulse just as their images sank through the ground. Time whisked them away, soaking their clothes as they found themselves adrift in the pink waters once more.

The moment they'd arrived back in the Future, chaos had broken out. Inuyasha was greeted with cries of dismay and horror from Mrs Higurashi and Souta. Bandages were grabbed, sheets were tossed over the couch and the confused Hanyou was yanked onto it. Shippo was called- arriving with one of his young kits tucked under his arm like a football.

The child was stuffed into Kagome's hands as he went to bind Inuyasha's open wounds, using magic to close them. 'Kagome, hold onto Zura- she can use level 2 magic already so be careful,' was his curt instruction.

Kagome blinked down at the little girl, whose hair was tinged a light orange. She giggled and squirmed, appearing to be no older than a human baby.

"One minute I'm in battle, then travelling- then holding babies," Kagome sighed, smiling as she sat down and bounced the child on her knee. "I guess this is my life now."

The little one made a happy noise, waving her arms. Kagome took her into the next room when Inuyasha started to curse foully- apparently not a fan of the magic.

Playing with the baby kit proved cathartic for the miko, who entertained her for a good hour. "Your Papa sure was exaggerating. I've been looking after you all this time and I haven't seen any-" Zura promptly disappeared mid-clap. "Magic."

Kagome panicked, looking around the kitchen and inwardly screaming. All she'd wanted to do was leave and find the next item to check if Sesshoumaru was alright but noooo. Vanishing babies it was.

Hearing a giggle, Kagome looked up, finding Zura on the kitchen table, gnawing on a phone.

"Hey there, missy. I'm pretty sure that's not yours," Kagome smiled, slipping the phone from her pudgy fingers and glancing at the saliva coated screen.

It showed a list of contacts, all named in alphabetical order. Kagome wiped the screen, heart leaping violently when the names scrolled down and landed on a certain one beginning with 'S.'

This was Shippo's phone, she realised.

Supporting Zura with one arm, Kagome trembled slightly. She shouldn't. He'd made it clear he didn't want to see her yet. But…

Impulsively pressing the 'Call' button, she raised the phone to her ear. It rang for a moment- before a familiar velvety voice answered.

"What is it? Has she come back?" His tone was low, voice clipped.

Kagome's breathing hitched, throat clogging. All the things she wanted to say clogged her wind-pipe. For some reason, she was rendered speechless.

"Shippo?"

The silence dragged on, and Kagome squeezed her eyes shut. Say something!

A small noise slipped past her lips, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. For some reason, the memory of Bokuseno now reared its ugly head. Tears stung her lashes.

Silence answered her, until his voice caressed her hearing once more.

"…Kagome."

She chocked on a broken giggle that bubbled to the surface. "H-hi there," she breathed.

He paused, and she could hear a faint sound like he were exhaling. "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered honestly. "I-I left the Past before I knew if you were okay. Bokuseno, he-"

"I know."

Kagome adjusted Zura in her arm, who played with her hair. "I need to know…were you safe? Do I need to hurry back?"

"Kagome-"

"Please."

"…"

That felt like enough of an answer. Her hand tightened around the phone. "I need another item then."

"If you just arrived back, that would be unwise. You'll get burned out if you return now."

"I don't care. Shippo told me that these next few jumps were important. Something happened to you after the Battle didn't it-"

"You will not endanger yourself."

"I'll find the next item with or without your help, but with would be faster."

When yet more silence answered her, Kagome grit her teeth. "Fine. I'll go looking-"

"Rest."

"What?"

"Sleep tonight and replenish at least some of your strength. Acquire more arrows…and do not take this next jump lightly."

"You're going to help me?"

"Hn, unfortunately I must, for selfish reasons. A box will be left on your nightstand for you to wake to. Only open it once you're ready."

Kagome shifted Zura, who by now was dropping off, leaning her head against her chest. "Once this jump is over…I want to meet up. I want-I need to know everything, Sesshoumaru. No more of this. No more secrets."

"This one will be there the moment you return," he rumbled quietly. "I think….the limit of my self-restraint has been reached."

She smiled slightly. He still sounded the same, even after so many years had passed for him. Releasing a sigh, she agreed to his terms. When it felt like the natural time to hang up, she hesitated to do so. Now that he was talking to her, she didn't…want to stop.

"Kagome."

"Mn?"

"Nothing has changed. What happened to Bokuseno….it has not affected anything between us."

She bit her lip to stop it from wobbling.

"Okay."

Following his instruction and not breathing a word of it to Shippo or a resting Inuyasha, Kagome had sunk into a deep sleep.

When she woke the next day, a simple black box awaited her.

"Kagome? I ran a bath for you." Mrs Higurshi knocked on the door.

Kagome paused, guilt gnawing at her. "O-okay Mom, thanks."

Dutifully, she gathered her things and took the time to bathe, sighing in the warm water. It occurred to her that she hadn't asked Sesshoumaru about a second mate, but she decided to wait until she returned. A lot of things could wait.

Getting out and drying herself, she dressed and donned her bow and arrows, picking up the box.

Setting her shoulders, Kagome opened it.

Lifting out a red tassel from within, she instantly recognised it. It was one of a pair that had hung from his armour.

It slipped from her fingers and Kagome gasped, reaching for it as it plopped into the bath water. Once her fingers closed around it- the waters turned pink, and Kagome felt herself be dragged in with a loud splash.

Faint light filtered into the dark, streaming in slants. Looking up, she noticed bars on the window obscuring the moonlight. A chill skittered down her spine, and Kagome held her damp arms, glancing around.

A large shape, around the size of a pony, lay in the shadowed space. Strained, thin breaths escaped it. Shifting closer, Kagome noticed the fur of the creature- heart leaping into her throat.

She quickly dropped to her knees beside him, hands hovering uselessly in the air.

"Sesshoumaru?" Kagome whispered.

His fur was matted, dulled grey, strands bloodied. She noticed wounds covering his form in patches, varying from scratches to slash marks. Touching his fever-warm shoulder, she shook the beast lightly.

"H-hey…what happened?" Chains connected to metal shackles tightly enclosed around his legs, a thick collar around his neck. He lay muzzled, eyes closed.

The thing that made her stomach sink, however- was the sight of metal spikes inside the collar. They dug into his flesh, obviously restricting movement. She could only imagine how painful it was to even rest his head down. Reiki boiled hotly under her skin, and she grit her teeth, trembling. "Bastards."

Pulling the muzzle off and dropping it to the floor, she gripped a shackle around his leg, feeling around it. Her fingers met paper, a sutra. She could feel reiki sparking over it.

The heat under her palm shifted. Kagome sighed with relief when he seemed to wake- only to lurch back when a loud snarl pierced her eardrums.

In a flash- he'd twisted, snapping large jaws.

Sharp teeth sank into her arm. Crying out, panicked tears immediately stung her eyes. Kagome pressed the heel of her free hand into his muzzle desperately.

"Let go!"

A rumbling, strangled snarl reverberated around the room she now knew to be a cell. Kagome didn't dare tug her flesh free. She stared in horror at glowing red eyes, shining viciously bright in the dim light. Another growl hissed out from his teeth.

"S-sesshoumaru, it's me, Kagome." She chocked out. "Don't you recognise me?"

Crimson blinked. They then blinked again, body seeming to tense. Slowly, the pressure on her arm eased. Teeth peeled free, allowing blood to spill out from the puncture wounds. Something seemed to ghost over his inhuman expression, dusty recognition.

A hot tongue lapped over the wounds, and he whined quietly.

Kagome cradled her arm, easing back slightly.

"I-It's okay," she breathed shakily, trying to stop the bleeding. Chains clinked on the ground and the miko jolted when he licked her again, gaze lowered. The more he carefully tended to her, the more her heart slowed, and she allowed him to clean the wound.

"I-I guess I took you by surprise," she murmured. When he didn't answer, her lips thinned. "I'm guessing you can't transform."

Tired red eyes slid up to look at her, tongue dragging over her skin. Kagome tentatively touched his head gently. "I'm going to set you free. Don't worry, okay Mr. Fancy feet?"

Peeling his tongue from her skin, he lifted his head, crooning softly. Kagome's brows furrowed. She'd never seen him like this before.

Standing, she winced, ignoring the pain of her arm and glancing around. There was a single door in the room with bars on the small look-in window. At the other side of the room was the larger barred window, which she realised was on the ground floor, looking out towards trees.

Kagome moved back to Sesshoumaru's side. "If I can get you out of these, do you think you'll be able to break through those bars?"

He gave a nod and Kagome carefully knelt down to peel the sutras off the shackles. Reiki sparked, but her own power dwarfed the seals. Overpowering them, she rendered them useless, peeling off the paper. That left the shackles, which required keys to unlock.

Figuring there were probably guards stationed nearby, she leaned down to her mate's ear, murmuring her plan.

Two Priests had come running the moment they'd heard screaming coming from the cell. The door burst open- and they rushed in, taking in the sight of the woman cowering near the wall.

"How did you get in here?"

"I-I don't know! Please, just get me out!" Kagome trembled, not moving an inch.

The two walked further in, not wary in the least of Sesshoumaru's still form, which was turned away from them. There was nothing to fear from muzzled demons, they figured.

The moment they were close enough however- the demon lunged.

Kagome turned her face away as his jaws ripped them apart. He latched large teeth into the necks- twisting and causing a sickening snapping sound. She could only take so much as the noises of flesh being torn from bone bounced off the walls.

"S-sesshoumaru, that's enough."

The sounds died down. Soon enough, hot, sticky breath fanned over her cheek. Metal clinked off the floor as a key was dropped to her feet. Kagome turned to look at him, shakily smiling.

She set him free, and they made their escape.

Her lungs were on fire.

The pair had barely made it a mile from the lone prison they'd broken out of. Kagome didn't know where they were, or how to find safety. She just wanted to keep running with him. Sesshoumaru was in a bad state, limping and trailing blood onto the ground. No matter how far they ran into the forest, Kagome knew it was only a matter of time until-

She heard a noise behind them.

The warmth at her side collapsed, and Kagome's heart lurched. "Sess-Sesshoumaru," she panted. "Get up, please. We can't stop here."

Quick breaths escaped him, form shuddering as red eyes squeezed shut. His lips were peeled back, revealing sharp teeth. She could practically feel his pain.

Instinct roared in her veins as she heard their pursuers approach. They had two choices. Fight or flight.

And flight clearly wasn't an option any more.

Kagome turned on her heel to face them, panting hard. By the time they burst from the bushes, she'd drawn her bow. Meeting each of their gazes, she trembled, breaths loosening fast and hard from her lungs. The Priests paused raising their staffs while one padded forward.

"Stand aside, girl. Allow us to take the demon back and no harm will befall you."

"Take one step closer and I can't promise the same," she exhaled, temper spiking. "H-he's like this because of you. What you did to him is unforgivable."

The head Priest glanced at Sesshoumaru's form behind her. "He is not human, clearly he has ensnared you," he took a step closer and Kagome let the arrow fly.

It sang through the air, piercing through his shin.

"I warned you. Back off!" She yelled, baring her teeth.

He gasped and dropped to one knee, while the other Priests shouted and rushed forward.

"No, don't!" The head Priest shouted, but they did not listen. One drew a bow and fired at Kagome, who raised her shield- the arrow harmlessly ricocheting off.

Panicking as their large numbers threatened to overwhelm her, Kagome cried out. Automatically, she notched another arrow and fired. Just like fighting a demon.

One Priest fell to the ground dead- arrow jutting out of his neck. Sweat pricked the back of Kagome's neck, but she barely had time to react, stumbling back when another swung his staff at her- shattering the barrier.

Another notch, and another life gone, Kagome gasped when her side was hit- sending her to the floor on her back. A Priest stood over her, raising his staff once more- but her eyes were on the other two men. They were carrying seals, their attention not on her, but on Sesshoumaru.

Feeling something hit her head, Kagome's vision swam, but she rolled on her stomach, notching her bow with shaking hands. Drawing the bowstring back- she gasped as another thud slammed into her back.

They were going to take him, she realised. They would drag him back to that cell and he'd slowly die- from shame, if not from wounds.

Her mate's head lay tilted at an odd angle, crumpled form sprawled over the ground where he'd collapsed. She could see the bloodied pads of his paws and remembered the sensation of his palm gliding over her skin. The reverence in his eyes.

How he'd quietly loved her.

Tears stung her lashes, a hot, large bubble erupting in her chest- bursting out as a scream. Reiki rushed out, fanning through the men and freezing them stock still. Drawing herself to sit back on her knees, Kagome ran on instinct.

She killed the remaining men with methodical shots, barely comprehending it as she let the arrows fly.

The man who had been striking her choked, falling to the earth last. Fast, erratic breaths escaped her, and she barely noticed the blood caking her forehead. Shakily, she made to stand, only to stumble to the ground again.

Breathing out, Kagome took a moment, pulling herself forwards and crawling on her hands and knees to Sesshoumaru, laying her head on his back. Curling her hands in his fur, she hid her face in the warmth of his side, shoulders trembling.

But a nagging thought kept entering her mind. We're too exposed.

More Priests could show up, or a demon could stumble upon them, lying helpless in the clearing. Kagome slid her arm around his back, moving to support him under his damaged neck.

"Come on," she murmured. "Get up. That's it- good."

It took some work, and progress was slow, but the two managed to limp from the gruesome clearing, leaving the bloodbath behind.

They'd found shelter under a canopy of thick bent branches which curled down, their ends almost touching the earth as though the wind had bent them out of shape. Kagome tore the end of her top off, using it to bandage her arm. In all the chaos, she'd left her bag behind in his cell. They sat under the shade, remaining there as the sun rose. Kagome got to work on cleaning Sesshoumaru's wounds, only able to do a few as her water container hooked onto her belt loop soon ran out.

Sighing, Kagome stroked her fingers through his coarse fur, glancing at his sleeping face. He looked exhausted even while resting.

Having to forgo building a fire for warmth- since they needed to avoid detection, Kagome settled in, deciding to wait for his wounds to heal.

Sometime in the dead of the next night, Kagome sat up. She'd been laying down close to Sesshoumaru's side, sleepless as she listened out for the faintest noise. For some reason though, the rhythmic breathing of her mate had fallen silent.

A horrid, blind panic winded her, much like a punch in her stomach. Kagome grabbed his shoulder and shook it hard.

"Sesshoumaru?"

Pressing her ear against his chest, Kagome waited. After a moment, his heart thudded, and the quiet breathing continued.

A small noise escaped her, and exhaling shakily, she crawled under the inuyoukai's arm, nestling her face into an uninjured part of his neck as she absorbed the warmth of his chest, feeling it rise and fall. Wrapping her arms around him, Kagome squeezed her eyes shut, the fur tickling her cheek when he eased closer, lured in by her scent.

"Don't scare me like that."

For some reason, in her dreams, she imagined him licking the tears from her cheeks.

The next day arrived and Kagome hunted for food- a little alarmed when Sesshoumaru would wake only to swallow the rabbits whole and only be conscious for a short while.

With a small bubble of worry, she realised something that had been nagging at her.

His wounds weren't healing.

She decided to urge him to move during the day, carefully navigating through the woods and finding a waterfall.

The falls weren't too high, and the pool was shallow enough that Kagome felt it was safe to chance bathing him. Sliding into the water with the white beast and supporting him, the water soon plumed with bursts of red, which streamed out from his fur.

His red eyes remained harrowed and tired. Kagome's brows drew together as she slid her hands over his muzzle. "What's wrong? Did they do something else to you?"

Of course, he couldn't answer. Pressing her lips together Kagome eased around his side. "You know, when we're in the future together properly, we better have sleepovers. And I don't mean sleeping in the same room together, Mr." She slid her hand over his ribs under water, checking between the strands carefully.

She blabbered to distract them both. "I expect the works. I'm talking my favourite movies, marshmallows on hot-chocolate, forts made of sofa cushions and possibly painting each other's nails," she giggled weakly.

Sesshoumaru released a soft huff, tail trailing in the water. He then jolted and snarled when her fingers touched his hip. Kagome ripped her hand away and backed off.

"I-It's okay…" glancing at the spot, she noticed that his other wounds didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. However, a stream of red kept leaking out at his hip.

Quickly finishing up bathing him, Kagome helped guide him up onto the grassy verge, hesitating. "Sesshoumaru, were you shot or something? Or could it be-" a memory came to mind. She'd asked Inukimi something similar. "A prayer bead," she sighed.

Glancing at him, Kagome patted his ribs. "I need to look. Promise not to bite this time?"

It broke her heart to see the distrust flash across his inhuman features. Sesshoumaru then seemed to shake himself, laying his head down on his paws and making a noise as though giving permission.

Parting the thick layer of wet fur at his hip, Kagome looked at the deep wound, squinting. Sesshoumaru's muscles tensed, but she didn't attempt to start prodding. "I think I can see something, but it's too far in. We need help."

His lip lifted in a silent sneer.

"Don't be like that. There's still allies around. The Foxes, the Wolves, your mother, General Kaito…"

Kagome trailed off when intelligent red eyes shifted to her. He then glanced at a large tree, rumbling in a gravelly tone. His ears dropped, and he rested his head on his large paws.

Does he know about Bokuseno already?

Stroking his fur, Kagome sighed. She didn't ask. Not about anything. If he'd been captured, she could only imagine what had happened at the Western Stronghold. Just how long had he been there? Being tortured like that?

There was a listlessness in his eyes that she didn't want to confront, and she kept her silence until they found shelter in a cave a few hours later.

Sesshoumaru wasn't able to move very far distances with his injuries, and with the prayer bead lodged in his muscle, Kagome figured that was what kept him from healing. As such, they were in Limbo.

Resting against his side, she watched the rain fall outside the mouth of the cave. She was keenly aware that she may not have much time left with him.

If I left right now, he could be in real danger. No one is around to help.

Kagome's lips thinned. He needed help, and she was the only one who could find it for him.

The Daiyoukai continued to doze, feeling gentle fingers comb through his fur. The familiar, comforting scent was the only reason he allowed himself rest, vile memories fading with her touch.

"Sesshoumaru…I-I'm going to go get help."

He was too deep in sleep to really register her words and only sought to drink in her fragrance when something soft was nestled under his nose. Exhaling, he drifted on, barely noticing the soft kiss pressed against his brow.

The next afternoon, he eventually woke to two dead rabbits, a note, and her coat under his paws.

'Don't leave the cave' it said. 'I've gone to find help- be back soon!'

When she'd slipped out of the cave, Kagome had realised with a wince that it could easily start raining again. That meant no scent trail for Sesshoumaru's potential rescuers to follow once she found them.

I have no idea where I even am.

With no string available, she'd removed her sweater, tearing it and wrapping some of the pink material around a branch of a tree near the cave.

She now shivered from the breeze, clad in her t-shirt and continuing through the wooded area. She stopped every so often to mark the trail via the pink scraps.

"I deserve at least five self-care days after this."

Kagome moved her arm to wipe her brow- only to wince. The wound stung, aching as air caressed the puncture marks left behind by Sesshoumaru's teeth. Her brow furrowed. She'd never seen him like that before. Feral, almost. Scared.

Now that she was alone with her thoughts, she could picture the faces of the men she'd killed more clearly. However, what alarmed her was that she did not feel guilt or sadness.

The miko felt a surge of heat, setting her teeth on edge. No, instead of that, she could only fight the insidiously cruel desire of wanting them to suffer more. She touched the marks on her shoulder, remembering Sesshoumaru's wounds. The way he shook at night.

I can't ever forgive them.

Fierce yearning to go back and hold him washed over her.

Kagome hurried on.

When she reached the start of a trail that would lead her up the crest of a mountain, Kagome decided it would be a good idea to travel up to gain her bearings. So, she trekked the long walk up, savouring her newly replenished water. She walked until the colours of dusk painted the sky, and the last strand of her sweater rested in her hands.

Kagome reluctantly tied it around a small rock. She swallowed a lump in her throat, overlooking the view.

Nothing. She didn't recognise the valley below her, and she hadn't come across a single person, man or youkai.

The greenery had given way to dirt. Thin, willowy trees randomly dotted the landscape instead of the lush oak or ash trees of the forest below. Kagome trudged on, and when she came to a spot that she'd usually tie a piece of sweater to, she exhaled.

Straightening her spine, she reached over her shoulder. The only thing I've got left to use is…

The breeze stirred her waist-length hair as Kagome collected it into her palm. She brought out a small knife, gripping the strands tight. Gripping the black locks just below the nape of her neck, she cut them loose.

After resting under a fallen tree, Kagome pushed on a few hours after. Tired, hungry and not even remotely paying attention to her surroundings, Future Sesshoumaru's warning felt like a million miles away until it happened.

She'd been tying another few strands of her hair around a tree branch- when a rough, clammy hand had grabbed her throat.

Kagome lurched back, choking. A handful of soldiers surrounded her, their armour weathered and dirty. Deserters, perhaps.

"Let…go!" Kagome grit out.

"Look what we got here, boys. Seems we've found someone to keep us warm up here in the mountains." The one choking her grinned, amused by her struggles.

Kagome instinctively placed her hands on his, forcing reiki out. It sparked on his skin- and he gave a cry, releasing her and ripping his hand away.

"What the hell- holy powers aren't supposed to harm humans!"

She heaved air into her lungs, swaying on her feet. "I don't- gn…see any humans." Kagome glared, holding her throat and backing up.

They drew their weapons, lunging forward with shouts from the leader to grab her. Her heart lurched, and Kagome quickly fumbled with her bow- dropping an arrow to the ground. She wouldn't be quick enough!

Losing her footing, Kagome landed hard on her side, hitting her temple. She tried to raise her shield but it broke apart like sugar glass.

When the ringing in her ears subsided however, snarls replaced it. Howls and harsh growls thundered in the air just as tanned and white wolves descended on the soldiers. They were ripped limb from limb- their cries falling on deaf ears as Kagome panted.

Tears pricked her eyes.

Someone stepped into her eyeline, and she dimly looked up, a strangled, happy noise escaping her. Standing, she threw her arms around Kouga.

"Ach! K-Kagome?" He blinked. "The hell- why are ya here on our turf alone? Where's Dog Breath and the Lord of Dog Breaths?"

Kagome opened her mouth- but then froze, feeling something light rest on her head. She looked up, finding snowflakes beginning to fall from the sky. The pull of time clawed at her feet once more, and she gripped his shoulders tight, pulling back to look at him.

"Sesshoumaru is injured. You have to go find him, Kouga. I wrapped my hair around some tree branches and it'll lead you back some of the way. From there, follow my patches of pink sweater until you see a cave. He'll be inside. H-he has a prayer bead stuck in his hip-" she rushed out.

Kouga stared when she didn't immediately disappear. "Why are ya talkin' so quick?"

"You'll see in a second!" She huffed, looking at him seriously. "Please help him."

He scratched his cheek, but nodded, starting when she began to sink through the ground.

"You look a little older," Kagome murmured, smiling gently. "But you're still the same. I know I can count on you."

Kouga opened his mouth to reply, thoroughly confused and alarmed when a strange, unknown scent pulled her from his arms. She disappeared, form fading through the earth.

He stared at the ground, before raising his head and looking at Ginta and Hakkaku. "Anyone got any idea what that was about?"

[dassala]

In Focus

Rated M - Chapter 3/? (Ch. 1, Ch. 2)

Emma Swan’s CEO fiance Graham Humbert has hired a wedding photographer to capture every aspect of the wedding planning process. Killian Jones usually hates these stuck-up, spoiled rich brides he captures on film, but Emma is different.

Disclaimer: This fic contains elements that may be squicky or disturbing to some of the CS audience. I want you to know that both Emma and Killian have sexual relationships with other characters in this fic. They also both get very drunk at different times throughout the story. So if you have an aversion to alcohol abuse (especially as a crutch), and you can’t stand the idea of Emma and Killian being with other people, this may not be the story for you. However, that said, you should know that I never write CS fic without a happy ending. :) So if you can stick it out, I promise satisfaction.

Psst. @awkwardnessandbaseball is an incredible beta! <3 Thank you, babe!

Read it on AO3

Three months into the planning process and Emma Swan was already completely wiped out. She felt overloaded with orders and deliveries and do-it-yourself wedding favors. At this point, she deeply regretted not hiring a wedding planner to do most of the work for her, but she’d considered it a personal challenge. Graham was generally busy with work, so why not throw herself into this particular project?

The week had been taxing, and Emma was not only tired from a combination of work and wedding planning; she was sick. She had wanted to spend some time getting crazy with Ruby to blow off a bit of steam, but the girls’ night out was canceled when Emma’s sniffles and sinus pressure got out of control.

Emma flipped through the offerings on Netflix, clicking past Action/Adventure and Drama, and cruising into the Romance section. On the rare night that Graham was able to sit still for two hours, they leaned toward a Jason Bourne-type flick. Tonight, he was out schmoozing with Japanese clients, and she was relegated to the sofa with a box of tissues and a steaming-hot mug of chicken soup.

As she tapped her way through the romance section, her phone dinged. Emma raised it and opened the video she had been sent.

Killian was singing his heart out on stage. Ruby had keenly placed a few heart-eyes emojis around him in the frame. With a laugh, Emma shook her head and replied with some text and a photo.

Looks like fun. And hearts? Are you telling me this is going past just screwing around? The photo she included was her best attempt at a slightly-less-than-miserable face.

Message from Ruby: He’s an 11 in bed, if you know what I mean. ;) But he seems like something’s holding him back from considering it a relationship. Might be your wedding, but not worried. I’m here to have a good time, and so is he. He’s just fucking gorgeous.

Emma was unable to disagree. She had noticed it the first time she met him. His deep blue eyes were quite alluring. If she hadn’t been an engaged woman...well, she would not have a wedding photographer, so that was just a silly thing to think. She groaned to think about him being good in bed. If he could please Ruby, he could please anyone.  And if she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t been properly pleased in months. The spark had gone out of her love life with Graham. In the past, the fire was hot and it burned quite often. But now there was...nothing. And she was committing herself to a lifetime of nothing.

Enjoy! She sent back to her friend before tossing the phone on the table and cuddling down into the pillows on the sofa.

--

Registry day. Emma was armed with a scanner-gun-thingy and a list of items she wanted from the high-end boutique. Graham was at her side, thumbing texts into his phone and half-heartedly paying attention to her ramblings about china patterns.

“I think the blue on that one clashes with our carpet. I mean, the pattern itself is nice, but the color is all wrong. Why don’t we do like...all white, or something?” Emma turned over a bone china serving platter and examined its size.

“You’re right,” Graham muttered. He tapped a few more words into the phone as Emma went silent and stared across the section. The photographer had just arrived. Killian was hurrying past a stack of over-priced bathroom towels. He smiled at Emma. She felt her stomach do a little flip and swallowed hard, pushing the feelings away.

“Hey, there he is,” Emma grinned.

“Seriously, I’m never taking an Uber again in this city. All Yellow Cabs for me,” Killian chuckled. “Sorry, guys.”

“No, it’s fine. We haven’t really done much,” Graham muttered. He looked up from his phone and finally tucked it into his pocket. “And yeah, I do Yellow. Uber seems...difficult in the city.”

“Indeed,” Killian pulled his camera strap around his neck and lifted it. “Scan away.”

Graham reached for the scanner, taking it out of Emma’s hands. She blinked and watched as he slid around the display, scanning six barcodes without stopping to ask for her opinion.

“Uh,” Emma jumped into his path and held up her hands, “Easy cowboy. Remember, there’s like...stuff we actually need and stuff we don’t. Like those.”

She pointed to a set of fancy, battery-operated, chrome plated salt and pepper shakers that her fiance had just scanned. Graham pursed his lips and looked back at his fiancee.

“What do you mean? I like those.”

“They’re stupid,” Emma sighed. “We have salt and pepper shakers already. They’re very nice.”

“Yeah,” Graham wrinkled his nose, “but I mean the whole point of getting married is so people buy you stuff, right? So why not register for newer, cooler ones?”

Emma’s gaze narrowed and Graham physically stepped backward. “Okay, so not the whole point, but...why not?”

“We don’t need them,” she reiterated, placing her hands on her hips. Killian stood by silently, glancing around the store as if he wasn’t hearing them disagreeing again. “And maybe try asking my opinion before you just...scan everything?”

“Emma,” Graham laughed, “they’re gifts. Just let me scan. Okay? We’ll take back what we don’t want or need. But I want the salt and pepper shakers.”

“Fine. Then I’m getting the all-white China,” Emma conceded, sighing.

Graham halted and cocked his head to the side. “We have dishes. We don’t really need more dishes. They’re good dishes. My Mum sent them from Ireland. Remember? The one broke and we had to get it replaced and it took bloody ages…”

“Let me get this straight, if we have a perfectly good set of something we shouldn’t replace it, unless you want it?” Emma’s eyebrow cocked. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Killian grimace, trying to hide it behind his camera.

“Don’t start,” Graham grumbled and pushed past her. “Just scan things, okay?”

Emma found the scanner shoved back into her hand. Graham meandered away, pulling out his phone once more. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and tried desperately to control her temper, feeling it rising up her body.

“I think they’re stupid, too,” Killian finally chimed in, “for what it’s worth.”

“The plates?”

“Nah, the salt and pepper shakers,” he smirked and snapped a photo of the set. “I’ll file them with ‘ugly things’.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head. He had a way of being able to erase her tension. She nodded and moved to the china set she had been eyeing. With a particular flourish to her movements, she scanned the item, then winked at the photographer. Snap. Brilliant.

--

Another few weeks passed, and Killian spent his time between his place, Ruby’s place, and working a few one-off shoots for publications or private customers. His next appointment for the Humbert wedding was at Graham and Emma’s apartment, where invitations were to be addressed. Graham had assured him it would be just a few photos, and then he could leave, as there was bound to be nothing too exciting about writing addresses.

Finishing off a coffee, Killian knocked firmly on the door to Graham’s apartment. When the door opened, the last thing he expected was exactly what he got.

Emma answered, a glass of wine in one hand. She was in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and she looked irritated.

“Hey,” she sighed, shifting her weight, “I’m thinking maybe we should do this another time. Graham got called out on a meeting...and...we had kind of a fight about it. I’m not in the best…”

“I can focus on your hands, if you like? And...listen?” Killian shrugged, offering a friendly smile. “Not as your photographer, but...as an open ear? A friend? Or I can bugger off, either way.”

Considering it, Emma gave a nod and stepped back to allow him into the apartment. She closed the door behind him and shuffled to the coffee table, where piles upon piles of laser-cut gold lace invitations were waiting for her.

“I took calligraphy classes to learn this stuff,” Emma said with a bemused laugh. She shook her head, “I mean, I’ve always got time, right?”

Taking a seat across from her, Killian moved the chair slightly closer and put his camera bag aside. “They’re beautiful.”

She nodded and took in a shaky breath. “They never end. The meetings and the calls...It’s like I’m this person with all of these friends and this loving fiance, and...I’m lonely.”

Killian folded his hands and licked his lips before taking a deep breath, himself. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yep,” Emma nodded, finishing off her glass of wine before standing, “talking about it is why my mascara is running and I’m day-drinking. Want some?” She wiggled the empty glass in his direction.

“Not on the clock, thanks,” he adjusted the focus on one of his cameras, snapping off a few photos of the invites themselves.

“I’m your boss. You’re allowed to have a drink if I say so,” Emma insisted. “Or are you a beer kinda guy? Because I’ve got some of that, too.”

With a soft chuckle, Killian nodded. “I’ll have a beer then, thanks.”

Emma returned a few moments later and placed a cold bottle on the table in front of him. Her glass was very full of a deep red wine. She wiggled her fingers before picking up a pen from the table. “So how are things with Ruby?”

Killian stammered slightly and cleared his throat. “I don’t...I don’t think talking about Ruby and I is going to help…”

“I mean, I know most of it,” she laughed bitterly and shook her head, “you guys are fucking like bunnies.”

He paused with his beer halfway to his lips and swallowed hard, then took a swig from the bottle. Clearly, Emma had been drinking for a while. She was right, though. Ruby had an appetite, and she could make him forget about Milah for a few hours at a time. She served a purpose.

“C-can you maybe shift to the left a little?” He put the bottle down and picked up his camera, snapping off a couple of shots of her writing.

“She brags about you,” Emma continued. She glanced up at him. For the first time, he noticed how red and watery her eyes were. She was hurting, and it was bad.

“Emma,” he sighed, putting the camera down. “Stop.”

She paused, then dropped the pen. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “I’m losing it.”

He knew better. He knew he shouldn’t be involved in their personal problems. But there was no way this wedding would be a success if Emma fell to pieces. He pulled the camera from around his neck and moved closer to her. “Come here,” he whispered.

Emma leaned sideways. She fell against his chest. Killian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. Right now, she needed a hug, and he was the only person who could offer that to her. “Will it help if I tell you a story?”

With a sniffle, Emma shrugged. So he began.

“Once upon a time, a young lad from England came to the United States to find himself,” he said with a soft smile, “and when he came here, he met a beautiful woman named Milah.”

Emma turned her head to look up at him slightly, her brows furrowed. Apparently, she had not expected to hear about an ex.

“He married Milah. She was fun and exciting and she had all of the joy he knew he needed in life. They moved onto a boat and made a home for themselves. The lad started taking photos of people, and they made a nice life. Milah loved his photos. She also loved his music. They were passionate and crazy and young and stupid but they did it all together,” he said, his voice steady.

Emma relaxed a bit in his arms.

“One day, Milah came home from work. Her body language was...it was all wrong. The lad wondered if maybe he’d done something wrong, as you know, lads do,” he smirked slightly. “But she told him she’d met someone else. And she wanted a divorce.”

This time, Emma sat up and pulled out of his embrace. She gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his.

“So the lad gave her the divorce, and she married...someone else. And now he takes photos of other people when they get married,” he shrugged. “But she still haunts him. Every day.”

“Killian,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I had no idea. How can...how can you take photos of weddings when your own marriage fell apart?”

He chuckled. “It didn’t fall apart. It abruptly exploded. Because there were apparently things we didn’t say to each other.”

She reached up and rubbed at her cheek, pushing away tears. “So the moral of the story is...I need to talk to him or I’m going to lose it all.”

Killian thought for a moment. He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath. “Yes. You need to be clear about what you want, and what you don’t. For us, I wanted kids. Milah did not. She wanted success and she wanted money. A struggling photographer and musician who lives on a boat is hardly a suitable husband for that kind of woman.”

Emma was pensive. She reached over and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Killian paused, then wrapped his arms around her in return. “I think you guys will be okay,” he said, his voice calm. “You’ve been together a long time, and you can work it out. I know it.”

“Thank you,” Emma breathed. She pulled back and smiled. “Ruby’s lucky to have a guy like you.”

He chuckled. “Nah, Graham is the lucky one.”

The lock to the front door beeped and opened. Graham, looking disheveled and a little put out, stepped inside. He paused as he saw Killian.

“Oh shit, I forgot all about the invitation photos,” he muttered, scrubbing his face with his hand.

“No worries, mate,” Killian stuffed his camera into his bag and stood. He gestured to the spot next to Emma. “I got a few shots. I think, um, I think I’m all set.”

Graham offered his hand and forced a smile. Killian shook it firmly. “Thank you, then. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Aye, sounds good,” Killian turned back to Emma and raised an eyebrow. “Have a good night then, Miss Swan.”

He stepped out of the apartment door and closed it behind him. Emma was officially closer to him than Ruby had been in the past few weeks. Ruby was a romp in the sheets. Emma...Emma made his heart flutter and his stomach twist. But she wasn’t his. She couldn’t be his. And he would never do anything to pull her away from Graham. Not ever.

--

“You’ve got yourself in a right state,” Liam Jones smirked and shoved another pint across the bar top. Killian exchanged the full glass with his empty and nodded.

“After Milah, I’d never...ever think about a woman who was married to someone else. But...what if...I think they’re not right for each other?” He drew in a deep breath. “Do I say something?”

“Do you want to get paid?” Liam raised an eyebrow and wiped his hands on a towel. He threw the cloth over his shoulder and leaned forward. The Sailor’s Inn, the bar he owned and operated near the Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge, was dead this time of night.

“Of course,” Killian sighed. “But is it the right thing to do? Get paid and bugger off and leave her to a lifetime of disappointment and misery?”

Liam shook his head, “Remember, you’re only seeing a snippet of their lives together, and it happens to be a pretty busy and stressful time. There has to be a reason she agreed to marry him.”

“They’ve been together for eight years,” Killian muttered into his glass before taking a swig.

Gesturing with wide open hands, Liam shrugged. “Again, gotta be a reason.”

Killian nodded in agreement.

“Tell me about this Ruby girl,” Liam stood and moved to pour himself a beer. He flipped the switch beneath the counter which turned off the neon ‘Open’ sign near the door.

The younger brother Jones pursed his lips. “She’s hot. Insatiable. But...again, not...what I’m looking for. I think I’m gonna put an end to it. Just hope she’s not crazy enough to fuck up the wedding.”

“Want to kick her my number?”

Killian leaned his head to the side and gave Liam a look of annoyance. “You want my seconds? Sure. I thought you were seeing that girl from Jersey City.”

“Nah,” Liam shook his head, “didn’t work out. Besides, you know I’m more into blondes.”

“Then Ruby is not for you,” Killian smirked. “There is a really beautiful blonde bridesmaid, though. Elsa. No ring.”

“Yeah?” The older man grinned and laughed. “Probably not a chance. These are rich girls, eh?”

After Killian’s divorce, Liam had left his home in England and joined his younger brother in the States. Liam was undoubtedly more successful, but he was more of a working-class type of man than most girls wanted. At 35, Liam had all but given up on finding ‘The One’.

“I don’t know, mate. I think I need a change of scenery after I’m done with this gig. Fancy a trip to Boston?” Killian finished off his pint.

“I, uh, I don’t think that’s such a good plan,” Liam spoke slowly. He was obviously searching for a decent explanation, outside of the truth.

Killian’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”

With a heavy sigh, Liam turned to the back of the bar. He grabbed a tabloid and tossed it to land in front of his brother.

The front page of the supermarket rag was plastered with photos of some Kardashian or another. Killian’s brow raised. Liam flipped open to the middle of the magazine, where a blazing red headline and an accompanying photo made his gut clench.

Billionaire Robert Gold Separates from Wife New Ex Milah Jets to Boston

The photo was of Milah, caked in thick makeup, holding her hand up to fight off the oppressive flashes of the paparazzi. She and her husband Robert were not necessarily of the socialite kind, but Milah knew what she was doing when she left Killian. She had married a man of political and social influence for his money. And now, it seemed, they had separated. Killian wondered exactly why.

“I probably shouldn’t have shown you,” Liam said calmly, taking a sip from his beer. “But I didn’t want you to run into her.”

“No, it’s fine,” Killian reassured him. He pushed the magazine away and shook his head. “She’s his problem now, not mine.”

“Atta lad,” Liam poured his brother another pint and an accompanying shot of bourbon. “Let’s get pissed and forget about the women for the night, eh?”

--

He believed the proper nautical term for his condition was ‘Three Sheets to the Wind’. Roger walked alongside him as Killian meandered down the road to the docks, singing loudly to himself. His companion had a strange sense about him, wherein he usually walked on the water’s edge as if to keep Killian from stumbling into the sea.

Killian pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed through his contacts. He paused on the docks. Roger whined and nudged him with his nose. The dog couldn’t possibly be warning him against drunk texting, could he? Nah, he was probably hungry.

Did he apologize?

He clicked send. Only then did he notice that it was 3am.

“Oops,” he muttered, continuing down the docks toward his rinky-dink houseboat.

His phone pinged. Blinking, he paused again and looked at it.

Message from Emma Swan: Yes. I think you helped a lot. We really talked for the first time in a long time. He even avoided answering a call in the middle of our discussion. You might have saved this marriage. Thank you.

Drawing in a deep breath, he paused and leaned against a light pole. Fantastic. He was the ‘troubled couple whisperer’. The phone pinged again.

Message from Emma Swan: Tell Ruby I said hi.

He frowned and thumbed a message back to her.

No Ruby here. Just me and Roger.

No response, so he tucked his phone into his pants and wandered back onto his boat, the ‘Jewel’. Once on board, he kicked off his shoes and fed Roger before collapsing onto the bed. He was going to be so hungover in the morning. It also would be a miracle if the spinning sensations stopped anytime soon. He tried the trick of placing one foot flat on the floor. No dice.

His phone pinged.

Message from Emma Swan: Oops. Um, I guess you’re not exclusive then. She said she had a date.

Killian laughed and shook his head. Not surprising.

I had a date with my brother. And Roger. We drank a lot.

I mean Rog didn’t. But I did. Hence the timing of these texts.

Sorry.

Message from Emma Swan: No worries. I like hearing from you. I think we’ll be good friends, after the wedding’s over.

Friends. He wasn’t sure he could handle being friends with Emma Swan...Emma Humbert. With her sexy smile and incredible ass and the way she had access to incredible finery but loved the simple things in life. Not if she belonged to another man. He wouldn’t tempt fate like that. He would NOT be Robert Gold.

Message from Emma Swan: Anyway. Goodnight.

“Goodnight,” he muttered aloud.

--

Emma felt Graham’s bare chest press against her back. She placed her phone down on the nightstand and sunk back against him. He muttered groggily.

“Who you talkin’ to?”

Emma shook her head. “Wedding plans.”

“At three o’clock in the mornin’?” He placed a kiss between her shoulders. “Relax. It can wait. C’mere.”

She turned to face him and gave him a kiss. It felt...hollow. There was nothing there. No longer did she have a spark when it came to Graham. Even when they did make love that night, it was more...out of obligation than desire. Something was off. Maybe it was the wedding. Maybe it was his constant need to do and be the best, despite what she actually needed. Or maybe…

She drew in a breath. “Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

But he already was. She received a soft snore in reply.

[icecoldparadise]

Sheer Witch-foolery

Apparently I have no chill. “I’m gonna do a small funny April Fool’s day fic!” 2300 words later..... literally what happened with TaT. -___- anyways, I guess this is part of the “holiday” series that I intended to do in order (it was screaming to be done now though.) It’s also canon with my Tricks and Treats fic, Day with the Dragon Witch fic, and @sidewritings Say My Name fic (which, with their permission, is canon with DwtDW!) So without further adieu, here’s Sheer Witch-foolery. Pairings: moxiety and logince (I tried not to make it too.. much, as I know some of y’all find pairing them with each other not enjoyable.)

It was a seemingly ordinary spring day in the mindscape, and the four sides were lounging in the living room: Logan was curled up in the plush arm chair, nose deep in a book; Patton was sprawled on the couch with Roman gushing over Tangled; Virgil was perched on the window seat, relaxing as the warmth of the sun spilled over him. The serenity was disturbed when a black raven flew through the open window in the kitchen and dropped a letter in Virgil’s lap, startling him out of his reverie. The others gazed at him curiously as a small smile crossed his lips- the letter was sealed with a dragon stamp. After cracking it open delicately Virgil read the message, then stated, “Lavinia’s invited us to the cave for lunch.” Roman, who had been taking a drink of water, spit out his drink and sprayed the poor logical side in his line of fire. “WHAT?” Logan glared at the exuberant side, wiping his glasses off with a dry part of his polo. “I believe we have been invited to lunch, Roman.” He stated matter of fact, giving a slight huff as he willed his clothes to be dry. Patton jumped up excitedly, clapping his hands enthusiastically. “Well, what are we waiting for, kiddos?! LET’S GO!” Virgil jotted down a quick note saying they were on their way, hastily tying it with a black string and handing it to the raven waiting on a nearby bookshelf.

It swooshed out the window again, delivering the message to the Dragon Witch. She smirked as she read the confirmation. “Excellent. All is going according to plan.” While the quartet got ready and headed to the witch’s lair, she put the final touches on her little surprise. “They’ll regret not remembering the date, won’t they my pet?” She cooed to the raven, gently scratching under its beak. When the men arrived, the scent of warm soup and seasoned meat filled their nostrils, making their stomach growl. Virgil greeted the guards, who cheerfully returned the greeting and led them the rest of the way to the cavern. A large round table filled with food greeted them: creamy mashed potatoes, savory chicken noodle soup and broccoli soup all sat in ceramic bowls, roast beef and ham sandwiches cut in triangles made pyramids on a large platter, and a large crystal pitcher of fresh fruit punch stood in the center of it all. Roman whistled in amazement. “Where did you learn to make all this, Witch?” He asked fondly, making her smile proudly. “I had the villagers lend me some cookbooks, and used my guards as test subjects.” Some of the guards shuddered, remembering her first attempts at cooking. Virgil noticed and chuckled quietly, but turned a warm smile to his friend. “You really did an incredible job, Vinia.” A small pang of guilt shot through the woman as she remembered her plan, but it was too good a prank to let go to waste. She gave them all her brightest smile. “Thank you. It was really all for you guys. Come! Let’s eat- I heard your stomachs growl at the entrance from the back of my lair.”

They all ate, merrily conversating and sharing stories with each other until they were all full and content. Suddenly Patton sat upright, looking slightly ill. “What’s wrong Pa—” Logan began before he too sat up rigidly with a grimace. The other two felt it shortly after: a strange sensation crawled in their bellies, but not as if they were ill. It felt like… “Magic.” Roman whispered. Virgil shot a distressed glance at his friend, who looked quite pleased with herself. “Logan,” she began sweetly, “what’s today’s date?” The logical side responded instantly. “April first.” It clicked. “Lavinia, what did you do?!” Roman demanded. Before she could answer their bodies contorted, not feeling painful but incredibly bizarre and uncomfortable. When it finally stopped, the sides looked at each other in mild horror. Long hair cascaded identically down their now slender, curved backs. Their limbs were slender, hands smaller, hips wider… “We’re… We’re women!” Patton exclaimed, her voice unusually soft and bright. She gasped and covered her mouth, shocked. Logan turned to face the now hysterically-cackling dragon witch. “How long will this last?” She inquired, her own voice higher than usual, but still low and smooth. “Twenty-four hours, my friends. Oh, I forgot!” She said, too brightly. They looked at her warily. “You… Ladies… are expected at a lovely gala tonight! No pants for us ladies here in your creative world Roman.” Virgil gave an anxious whine, her eyes wide with terror. “Lavinia! I don’t know how to dance as a MAN, let alone as a woman in heels and a flouncy skirt!” Her voice came out as a soft, tremoring alto. Lavinia smirked, gently patting the anxious side’s head. “Don’t worry Verge, Roman said he could do anything, even in a pair of heels and a big flouncy skirt.” Everyone turned to Roman, whose heart-shaped face was bright red. “So? That doesn’t mean I actually CAN!” Her voice was still bold and loud, a sweet soprano. “Oh, you can. Don’t worry. I’m not THAT cruel my friends. I made special shoes for all of you that will help you dance when the need arises. Until then, you all are seriously in need of a trip to the Fairy Godmother. Off you go!” She flicked her hands and they teleported to Fairy Godmother’s fashion emporium. A content sigh escaped her lips as she considered the night’s festivities. “Tonight will be lots of fun!”

The Fairy Godmother had just finished reading her reminder from the Dragon Witch about the transformed sides when they knocked on her door. Smiling, she let them in. “Welcome gentlewomen! Roman, always a pleasure to see you.” Taking a good look at them, she chuckled. “It’s a good thing you didn’t make an Evil Queen, Ro, or she’d be after all four of you.” They all blushed; none of them considered themselves fair enough to be “fairest in all the land” but the compliment was still appreciated. “Now then! I have just the things for you ladies. Patton dear, let’s start with you!” One by one, the fairy transformed them from jeans-and-tee-shirt gals (“Nothing wrong with jeans and a good tee, but for a gala we must have flair!” as she put it) to drop dead beauties. Patton came out looking like the embodiment of life itself; a light sky-blue gown with tule off-the-shoulder sleeves swirled around her feet, long brown hair pinned loosely in a braid with flowers laced into the braid. Her make-up was done lightly, creating an ethereal glow about her that emphasized the warm chocolate hue of her eyes. A delicate silver chain with a butterfly pendent added the perfect touch. Logan retained her sophisticated aura, a simple dark blue cocktail dress gently accentuating her curves without being scandalous; her hair was pinned up in a smooth bun with well-placed sapphire hair pins, make-up also simple but elegant and a simple pearl necklace to accent the look. Roman, of course, was bold and dazzling to behold: a vibrant red full skirt ballgown complete with a flashy bejeweled necklace and half-pinned up hair, gold eyeshadow and red lips to match. Virgil took some convincing to come out, but when she did the others gasped in awe. She genuinely looked like a goth princess: her long hair was silky smooth and only partly pinned by a simple purple flower clip, make up done mostly light with her signature black eyeshadow and a touch of dark purple lip stick, and a layered purple and black gown that seemed to flutter slightly as if in a breeze with every step she took. A simple black choker finished the look. Patton’s jaw dropped noticeably at the sight, and while Logan could appreciate Virgil’s beauty found himself irresistibly drawn to the red flower of the group. After giving final look-over, the Fairy Godmother nodded, impressed with her handiwork. “Yes, you four are quite ready for the ball in an hour. Here,” she started, handing them each a square box, “the Dragon Witch left these for you. She said it would correct your ‘two left feet’.” Each box held a pair of shoes that morphed to match the wearer’s outfit. Once situated Roman gave them a quick lesson in walking in heels, and they clumsily tottered out to the carriage Lavinia had ordered for them.

The ride over was full of conversation and quick (sheepish) glances at each other; none of them could deny they made equally gorgeous women as they made men. Virgil couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Patton’s warm, eye-crinkling smile while Roman couldn’t help but appreciate the calculated elegance Logan exuded. They had finally gotten used to the high, feminine voices (much to their dismay, Roman did in fact take advantage of this many times to burst out into female Disney songs.) When they arrived, they couldn’t help but stare in awe at the amount of colorfully adorned people they would be interacting with. Virgil instinctively hid behind Patton when they got out, who unconsciously offered her hand as comfort. She gladly took it, peering over the lively side’s shoulder in mild terror. It helped getting inside, as people spread out to various parts of the rather large castle. “Well, you men certainly do make lovely princesses.” A smooth voice stated in admiration, instantly causing them to turn and face Lavinia. She was also dressed elaborately, emerald green and black her main theme as the long slender skirt floated fairy-like at her ankles. “You look lovely, Vinia.” Virgil complimented softly, resulting in a warm smile from the dragon witch. “Well, now we can say we got to have a lovely girls’ night out together, yes? Let’s go dance!” Roman had opened her mouth to protest when everyone’s shoes made them move to the dance floor. Virgil and Patton gave a shriek while Roman and Logan managed to keep up with their shoes. A lovely waltz came on, and while a good amount of dashing young men offered to dance with them the quartet stuck together. Patton smiled cheekily and offered her hand to the gothic side. “May I have this dance, mi’lady?” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, her voice ringing melodiously throughout the hall. “Yes, you may.” Patton’s laugh joined hers, both echoing harmoniously. Roman and Logan watched amused before Logan turned her nervous attention to the other. “R-Roman?” She began, nerves causing her usually smooth, controlled voice to tremor. The fiery side turned to see Logan’s wide eyes and timidly outstretched hand. She blushed slightly before taking it, managing a small curtsey before they began to glide rather successfully across the floor.

While they danced, a waltz both Virgil and Logan recognized began to play. They simultaneously exclaimed, “Oh! I know this one.” Patton looked up at the slightly-taller side, her brown eyes bright with excitement. “Really?! I didn’t know you liked waltz music.” Virgil blushed, avoiding her partner’s eyes. “I use them sometimes to help keep me calm when my anxiety is flaring up.” The emotional side nodded in understanding. “Virge, would you… Would you hum it while we dance?” The nervous side gulped but nodded, her sweet alto voice quietly joining the orchestra. Patton put her head on Virgil’s shoulder, entranced. Meanwhile with the other two had a similar conversation. “You like waltz music Lo?” Roman inquired, genuinely surprised. Logan gave her trademark knowledgeable expression. “Of course, the intricate yet repetitive pattern is quite soothing while I work out particularly pesky problems. This is one of my favorites.” Roman’s eyes lit up hopefully. “Would you sing with the music?” Logan quirked an eyebrow to hide her uncertainty. “I… I don’t particularly excel in song-making Ro.” The creative side pouted adorably, giving the logical side such big puppy eyes it melted her heart. “Oh, alright. I suppose it wouldn’t do much harm this once.”  She quietly hummed the tune, swirling around with Roman who was ecstatic to hear the normally reserved side actually humming (and doing so quite well.) The song ended much too soon, as did the night. Before they knew it the clock was striking midnight and the gala was ending. The Dragon Witch had joined them for quite a few dances, making sure to dance with each one before the night was through, so she was with them when it ended. She linked her arms with Roman and Patton. “Not bad for an April Fool’s prank, hmmm?” They all grudgingly agreed. “Yes, it was well played. However, we do need to get home and get some rest Lavinia.” Logan stated, right as Lavinia herself gave a huge yawn. She nodded. “Yes, I do believe it’s time to call it a night. You all will be back to your handsome selves when you wake up in the morning. Goodnight, ladies!” She cajoled before disappearing in a poof of green smoke. The four took similar suit, warping back to the mind palace and into pajamas. They piled into a blanket fort for the night and promptly fell asleep, exhausted from the day’s events.

When Virgil woke up the next morning, he was pleased to note that his body was back to its very masculine form, as were the others. He noticed Patton curled up next to his side and smiled, carefully putting an arm around the sleeping man. Patton stirred a little and peered up at him. “We’re men again.” The heart said sleepily. Virgil nodded. “Yep. Go back to sleep Pat.” Patton turned and cuddled into the anxious side before quietly asking, “Hey kiddo? Would… Would you hum that song from last night again?” A faint blush dusted Virgil’s cheeks, but he nodded again and began humming softly, tightening his arm protectively over Patton and pulling him in closer. Patton smiled and sighed contently, falling asleep to the deep baritone humming the soothing melody.

@storytellerofuntoldlegends

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

@ssides  @thelogicalloganipus @pirate-patton @thatsthat24 @tinysidestrashcaptain @sidewritings @i-love-word-association-games @fandomsandanythingelse

[skyruemonroe]

It's a Chicken Nugget Hazel Levesque. Tfw u tried to write a pjo fic even tho the series has been dead for u since 2014

After years of being lost in the fields of Asphodel, Hazel Levesque was brought back to life to be a part of a prophecy. The Prophecy of the Seven destined seven half-bloods to rise to the call and defend the world as they know it against an ancient Earth goddess, Gaia. Out of the seven demigods, only six were defending the world “as they knew it”. Hazel had been dead since 1942. Hazel’s half-brother Nico Di Angelo jail broke her out of Asphodel and threw her into a new century. The 21st century might as well have been an entirely different world versus the time she’s from. Buckets of information were poured into her head with every passing day. Nothing reminded her of the 1930s and there were no familiarities besides her newly made friendships with the rest of the seven. One of the seven gained a little more than her friendship. Frank Zhang took affection with his cheeky smile and stole her heart with gentle gestures. Frank had become the praetor of New Rome after the war with Gaia had ended. They haven’t been able to spend too much time sharing stories and giggling flirtatiously  His post kept him busy, but Hazel was kept busy with her lessons about the modern day.

Camp-Half Blood had such a slower pace compared to the rest of the world.  Instead of obnoxious, horn blowing and car engines growling there were trees rustling, birds chirping and the sweet, relaxed chatters of campers. Although, chatting was more so cheering and groaning when war games were in session. As far as she was aware war games weren’t planned for the rest of the week. More time to relax and enjoy her friends’ company.

Friends. An ethereal smile flooded into her face as she headed towards the Hestia cabin. Tight, copper curls bounced against her shoulders as she started to skip. Her eyes were a gold sun and they shined brighter with every friendly wave from campers lingering in the ring of cabins. The canary letters printed on her purple SPQR shirt, along with the brown in her knee-height boots created a casual accent against cinnamon skin and high-waist blue jeans.

The Hestia’s cabin door swung open before she could raise her hand to knock. “Miss Underground has arrived,” a pointy eared, scrawny boy announced. He grabbed Hazel’s hand and yanked her into a room of laughable cheers. “It’s thanksgiving Charlie Brown and we’ve got taste testing to do.”

“Leo, it’s not thanksgiving and who’s Charlie Brown?” Hazel’s eyes widened as his bony arm pulled her to the rest of the group. It was odd seeing everyone letting their guard laze and unscathed. Leo was wearing a clean, stainless, white t-shirt and brown cargo shorts rather than an almost grey with filth button down shirt and jeans.

“Darling Hazel…Grasshopper you’ve still got much to learn. I, the qualified Percy Jackson will show you Peanuts after food. “Percy closed his eyes put his right hand on his chest and held his right arm out to Hazel as if he was making an oath. A small smirk flickered on his face as he awaited a face palm from his beloved girlfriend. Hazel’s right eye scrunched as her left eyebrow rose. Are peanuts not food? Are they slang now?

“Seaweed brain. Why are you like this?” Grey eyes rolled as a blonde haired girl spoke. A soft chuckle tumbled from her lips as she tugged on of her curls.

“Anyway~” Leo interrupted the couple before flirtatious bantering could hit off. “Courtesy of the Hestia cabin. Today you’re going to try chicken nuggets and other 21st century foods. ” His brown chucks tapped against the ground softly as he walked backward into a chair. His curls matched the brown choppiness of a girl who was leaning towards a blonde boy with thick, black glasses. “Maybe you’ll eat the vegan stuff Piper likes. ” He jutted his thumb to the girl behind him.

Hazel rolled her eyes at the brown haired girl’s spot on jazz hands behind Leo’s head. “How many other foods?” The smell of oils and modern day convenience stores wafted all through the cabin. “Why couldn’t we do this at the dining hall?” Hazel figured it make more sense to take advantage of the dining hall’s magical properties than to have Hestia campers do all the cooking.

“Lots of foods will be tested. Foods I will eat.” Piper finger gunned at Hazel. Reminding everyone that she wasn’t going to be consuming chicken nuggets or any other meat products. “We wanted to do it here because homemade is the best way to have food. ” Piper pulled herself up onto a wooden table in the center of the cabin. Then playfully leaned forward to flick Leo and Jason’s heads. “I’m a vegetarian. Not vegan…yet. ”

Jason turned around with puffed out cheeks, narrowed blue eyes and pursed lips. “Pipes owh. I didn’t say anything.”

Percy giggled as Leo slyly un-tied  Piper’s grey converse. “Piper you might want to hop down from the table. If we’re going to be eating I don’t want your butt where my food will be.”

Piper gave an understanding nod and hopped down from the table. Her shoe lace on her left foot got caught under her right shoe, throwing her forward onto her face. Hazel looked away as Piper shot back up. Should she have said something so Piper wouldn’t have fallen?

Maybe she shouldn’t have said something. That was quite hilarious though. In order to hide the corners of her smile Hazel pretended to cough.  

Annabeth sat in the corner eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed firmly together  like she was about to explode. “They’re all frozen foods. It doesn’t make sense to have it here in the Hestia cabin.”

Before more common sense could spill off her tongue a Hestia camper came out with bowls filled to the brim with chicken nuggets. “The blue bowl has tyson chicken nuggets, the green bowl has vegetable based nuggets and the purple bowl has breaded chunks of chicken. Or homemade chicken nuggets. ”

“Thanks!” Five of the kids chorused in unison.

“Why didn’t you just say homemade chicken nuggets? Why make it more complicated?” Percy scooted his chair towards the table. The screeching sounds of the chair legs against the floor were so irritating. Annabeth kicked Percy’s chair forward flying him all the way up to the table.  Instead of multiple fragmented screeches there was one big scooch.

Piper immediately started snatching nuggets from the vegetable bowl and stuffing them in her face. Jason followed her actions but much more slowly. At least Piper wasn’t intense and mean. Hazel hasn’t ever seen her trash or make a scene over people eating meat. Frank was making his way into becoming vegetarian as well. Percy and Leo would tease him about how soon his heavy armor would turn into eco-friendly grass woven shirts.

Giggling, Hazel walked over to the table and picked up a homemade chicken nugget first. They looked delicious, she thinks. Hazel hasn’t seen any other homemade chicken nuggets to compare them to.

The moment Hazel popped a chicken nugget into her mouth. A boy solidified through a shadow cast on the wall by a bookshelf. “I knew you all would do this. You got nuggets. You didn’t get McNuggets. You’re dead to me. ” Once the boy was completely visible his pale skin stuck out like center piece against all the warm colors in the Hestia cabin. The bags under his eyes were an unsettling grey. Did those bags ever go away? What would he look like without fatigue weighing on his skin. Does Will ever make him sleep? Hazel bit her lip into a smile as she thought about her brother and his hot mess of self care.

“Nico!” She dropped the next chicken nugget she was about to eat onto the table and ran over to give him a loving hug

“Hay! Be careful you’re going to hurt the happy meals. ” His grip tightened around the gold m-shaped handles. He lightly kissed her cheek then smiled back.

“Hay Hay back a way way!” Percy grinned. All eyes turned to a young man balancing a stack of chicken nuggets on his nose.  A few Hestia campers were watching the group from afar.  Their heads tilted and eyebrows raised.  Were these dorks really the brave heroes to save the world? In the full picture they looked like the weird group of misfits who’d sit a table away from the ‘squares’ at school.  "Someone is missing. “ He looked around at everyone in the room.

The room was filled of people. "There’s no one missing. Frank already told you he couldn’t make it. ” Hazel took a Happy Meal from Nico’s hands. Her eyes widened as she noticed the teeth and tongue painted onto the box. “Why does it have a face?” The corner of her upper lip raised while the skin on her nose scrunched up.

“To make it more kid friendly. ” Leo offered an explanation and then turned to Percy. “Calypso couldn’t make it because she isn’t feeling well. ” Leo stuffed as face in the midst of talking in order to cover up the immediate look of love sickness.

Percy shook his head. “No, not them. Someone that’s Nico’s TYPE. ”

Everyone in the room let out an annoyed sigh.  "LET IT GO. “ The entire cabin shouted.

"Percy you’ve got me, your girlfriend. You can’t hold on to Nico growing out of his crush  forever. ” Annabeth smacked the back of head, causing all the chicken nuggets to fall onto his lap. Nico huffed and picked up a glass full of a red drink from a platter just being brought in. Hazel looked over to the Hestia kids.  Why were the so distant? This wasn’t a selective food party. It’s an everybody food party. Hazel opened her mouth to call everyone over but was cut off by Percy’s revenge.

“Annabeth. There’s a spider right behind your head. ” He pointed and forced a look of surprise upon his face.

“Kelphead. Do you really think that’s gonna work on me? I found the Mark of Athena. I’m not scared of spiders anymo-”

Leo took his shoe off and started to get up, “I’ll kill it. ” He looked to where Percy was pointing. Annabeth flew into Percy’s arms that millisecond. All the chicken nuggets on his lap fell onto the floor. A hestia kid groaned in the background. They’re going to have clean up the mess when they all leave.

Hazel felt dirty for laughing so hard. The guilt faded away as Piper joined her. Hazel’s hair smushed against Piper’s shoulder as she leaned into her jean jacket.  Looking to Nico her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you drinking blood?” She understood the term edgy now. Wasn’t this taking 'edge’ a bit too far? Her pupils shrunk a bit as her mood was tainted with fear and disgust.

Everyone laughing at Percy and Annabeth now laughed at Hazel’s confusion. Nico’s head jerked back as his eyes bugged and he spit his drink out of his mouth. “No! It’s not blood. Good gods Hazel. It’s Kool-Aid. ”

The blonde boy behind Nico nodded. “Yeah Hazel it’s just a soft drink. It comes in a ton of different flavors and colors. It tastes pretty nasty unless you pour half a bag of sugar in. ”

“Jason you’d only put the amount it said to put in until I showed you how to make Kool-Aid. ” Leo raised his eyebrows and looked over to the Hestia campers. “Are you guys going to chill with us?” A toothy grin sprawled across his face as Leo waved them over to the table.

Jason looked to the side. It’s not his fault he never experimented outside of instruction. Some people are made to be set in stone. Hazel laughed at Jason’s face then turn to see the Hestia kid’s expressions. There was a bit of confusion and hesitant nodding. “It’ll be more fun with you!” Hazel twirled over to them and extended her hand to the eldest looking camper.

“Well I don’t see why we’re all sitting back here. ” The Hestia kid took Hazel’s hand and they both went back to the table. The other kids followed. “So, you’re Hazel Levesque?” They noted her copper curls, SPQR shirt and bond with the world’s saviors. “How’s the 21st Century treating you?”

Hazel let go of the Hestia camper’s hand then spun around to come face to face. She looked up a tad because she only came up to their chin. “I am Hazel Levesque. It’s. It’s interesting. Not like anything I’ve ever witnessed but I love it!” Hazel bashfully tugged on one of her curls and gazed down at the floor. “I still feel like I don’t know enough to really contribute. ”

The Hestia camper chuckled lightly. “You don’t have to learn to create. You create to learn. Bring in what you do know and then go from there. ” They patted Hazel lightly on the shoulder.

Hazel’s golden eyes rose to meet the Hestia camper’s blue eyes. They weren’t as chilling and intimidating as Jason’s but they were even more infinite and capturing. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

“You can call me Jace. ” The Hestia camper grinned. “You’ll have more fun in this generation if you stay away from 5sos and meme stans and… Politics. ” Jace popped the P in politics and slid in a chair across from Piper. They grabbed a veggie nugget and poked it into their mouth.

“What’s a five sauce stan? What’re memes?” Hazel paused before trying a veggie nugget. For Frank. She’s doing this for Frank.  He’s going vegetarian. That means she has to get more acquainted with vegetable based products.

“Memes are the best thing about the 21st century. Ever. ” Leo firmly stated while llaying upside down on his chair like a bat. His curly hair rested on the floor. “Five S.O.S Is actually an acronym for a ban named Five Seconds of Summer Piper likes them. ”

Piper scoffed. “You say it as if being a fan is derogatory. ” She kicked Leo’s chair over a bit. His head rubbed against the floor.

“Beauty Queen you’re so violent today. Look up what Stan means on urban dictionary Hazel. It’ll boost your Internet skills. ” Leo pulled himself and leaned over to pinch Piper’s cheek.

“What’s the urban dictionary? ” Hazel looked away from Jace to Leo.

Leo’s mouth had just opened but Percy’s laughter spilled before he could say anything. “We’ll show you after Charlie Brown. You’ll need it. ”

Annabeth poked Percy’s cheek. “Jace if you don’t mind me asking, how were you born?” She cringed as the words fell from her mouth. That question was so annoying to ask and be asked. Her need for knowledge made it so she had to know. “Why’d she change how she felt about cabins?”

“With each home Hestia blesses a child is brought into the picture from their hearth. We’re not really born. A lot of us were adopted into a home and blessed by Hestia or we were literally created from the sentimental warmth of a fire place. ” Something along those lines. Jace rolled their eyes. “Also, I’m not sure. Ask her. ” This lot is something else. “Hey Hazel have you ever tried nachos? ” Another one of their siblings brought out chips draped in cheese fondue. “You’ll love 'em. ”

Hazel giggled and shook her head. She’d heard of nachos before. One time Percy, Annabeth and Hazel went to a video gaming arcade, Percy naturally went straight to the restaurant area. Annabeth followed after rolling her eyes and asking why’d he order food if he hated it the last time. Percy replied he was going to get something different. Over all the cheering and beeping Percy’s voice declared her wanted nachos with extra cheese. The woman working the counter nodded with a straight face and and loud groan. She must’ve been in a terrible mood because she gave Percy a plate of nachos.