#just a 'no of course she was a saint we even are naming our daughter after her' but look how she turned out *just* like her

[creamecream]

“Someone’s howling,

Screams like sighing, with battered breath,

Grating,

Growling,

Never dying,

In a fate worse than death,”

[hisdarlingabsurdity]

Aqua Regia

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!reader

Tw: HOTD content. MDNI

Taggies: @dracaryxzs

⊹ ࣪ ˖﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ｡° ⚔︎｡°⊹ ࣪ ˖

Days passed in a blur of palpable regret. Princess Rhaenyra and her family had left Kings Landing for Dragonstone, just when you and Jacaerys had been getting along. You started to wish you'd become friends with him earlier. Now you did not even bother to deny in yourself that your days became brighter because of Jacaerys Velaryon's presence.

It was far more gratifying to just accept that you were soft for him and his brothers, come wrath and fury of your own. You'd had enough of sacrificing your happiness for Aegon's sadistic nature and Aemond's bitter resentment. You even took it upon yourself to have the Velaryon brother’s play with Helaena as well. And the baby, Joffrey was his name, was unbelievably adorable. There were times where you felt certain the baby felt irritated at your pestering.

You knew your mother, and your grandfather were not exactly happy with how close you were with princess Rhaenyra's family. But you didn't know the extent of their disapproval until now.

"The audacity, she had…to suggest a betrothal between my eldest daughter to her illegitimate son. I can almost hear cries of objection from Oldtown.” She shuddered.

“Not like I would let her taint my daughter's honour. I’m just glad they took a hint and left, since my own children can’t. What will the people think, seeing you associating with those," she paused, before lowering her voice. "With those bastards."

She raised her hand at you, keeping you from talking. "I know what you're about to say, it is treason, yes. But there's only us here. We can speak plainly about things that are glaringly undeniable."

She had been scolding all four of you, saying that Rhaenyra only had the nerve to suggest a betrothal between you and Jacaerys because of your leniency, befriending the Velaryon brothers instead of making it clear that you won't stand aside and let them take the throne. Unsurprisingly, and to your sibling's dismay, her anger was directed more to them than you.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad at us, it is her who enjoys their company.” Aegon spoke up, pointing at you. “Even dragged Helaena into it. Aemond too. I just…I mean they’re just there and I’m letting them be, leaving them alone just as my beloved sister asked me to.”

Alicent sighed. “Of course, she did. And every man at court, and maids, even knights and their squires wouldn’t bat an eyelash. They might have even expected this! It is fitting for your sister to be kind even to them. But it is unbecoming of you, the one whose birthright is being stolen.”

“I wasn’t being kind to them.” Aegon stuttered. Lies. You knew he was at least enjoying their company a little.

"There are already whispers about you— about us. That our family might be supporting Rhaenyra's claim."

"Her rightful claim, mother. If I may remind you." You added.

She turned to look at you, eyes sharp. Aegon sticks his tongue out mockingly at you as she turns her back to them.

"My dear, you are too much of a saint." She sighed.

Aegon, shaking his head in disbelief, mouthed 'What the fuck,' while Aemond only looked up as if in silent prayer.

"Sometimes, daughter. You should not take what men say, even Kings, as the one, true fact. Especially one as indecisive as your father. Your father he, how should I say this...we all love him, of course. But like most men, they have too much pride to admit when they made a mistake. Naming Rhaenyra heir just to spite his brother was a mistake. And it is our duty, to lead them to the righteous path."

You say nothing, clearly she wasn't interested in arguing further. You'd only risk losing what trust she has on you if you keep on pushing her.

"I know you feel bad for Rhaenyra's children. But daughter," she says your name, looking imploringly into your eyes. "She is only your half-sister. She might have affection for you but trust me when I say the love she holds for you is not as deep and pure as the love you hold for her."

Gently, she pushed a strand of your hair from your face. "I fear she is using you. Cleansing their reputation through you, by association. Let the people talk. Everyone knows about their sins. Everyone knows that your brother is the rightful heir.”

Aegon pushed himself off a chair, arms outstretched. “Since the people hold my sister in such a high regard, enough that her favour granted absolution to the bastards, perhaps we too, should listen to her. The Realm’s Favoured Daughter. Defender of the weak, the women and children, Protector of bastards. Listen to her and let the princess Rhaenyra sit on the throne. The Seven knows I’ve no desire for it.”

Alicent sighed, before shooting her son a blank stare. “We have already talked about this Aegon.” You knew what she meant. The things she hissed at Aegon, about how Rhaenyra will have you all killed to keep her claim unquestioned.

Aegon continued, eyes full of mirth. “The Maiden and The Mother in the flesh. Nurturing, loving even the sons of a whore.”

“Aegon!” Alicent hissed.

“See now, this is why nobody who knows you has any respect for you.” You answered.

“The Princess’ children, for such young boys, are more agreeable than you will ever be. You are a lascivious fool, foul-mouthed and vile. And I hate how you treat women. Let me remind you that every woman is an image of The Mother, to be respected, and revered. You look down upon those boys so much but they have more honour in their little finger than you have in your whole being.”

“Oh please.” Aegon scoffed, waving your words away. “Give it time, let them grow a little, puberty will do its job and show you their true colours. Seven Hells, I bet Jacaerys’s been wanking his tiny little cock to you at night,” he said, gesturing his closed fist back and forth.

Seething, you marched towards Aegon, intent on wiping the smirk off his face.

You stopped in your tracks, nails digging into the palm of your hands.

You redirected your gaze toward your mother. “Here is the rightful heir to the throne: Your eldest son whom you have been raising to be a wise, fair king.”

Aemond winced, and drew in a sharp breath while Aegon blinked at you, reeling at the absence of a blow he expected from you. Helaena sneezed. You sent your brother the most vicious glare you could muster. You will never forgive him for talking ill of Jacaerys that way. You stormed off, not waiting for your mother to gather her thoughts.

The next time you meet Jacaerys once again, was at a funeral. Laena Velaryon's to be exact. The entire royal court met with the grieving Velaryons at driftmark, forcing the two families of Alicent and Rhaenyra to have to interact with each other after Rhaenyra's departure from the Keep.

You could not look Jacaerys in the eyes.

You blamed yourself for falling short. Failing to keep the whispers back, and the disgusted stares off of him and his brothers. After the incident in the courtyard, when Ser Harwin Strong had snapped, the gossiping you worked hard to quell had resurfaced tenfold, giving Rhaenyra no choice but to leave.

You respected her for that decision. She could've stayed, hardened herself and kept her claim strong by holding her position in the small council. Instead, she prioritized the safety of her children, as any good mother would.

You still haven't gathered the courage to approach the lad during the gathering at the Cliffside of High Tide castle for the wake, choosing to observe instead.

You suspected that Jacaerys must've wanted nothing more to do with you, for he hadn't answered any of your letters. You knew it wasn't a direct consequence of your shortcoming, Jacaerys wasn't the kind of kid who would befriend someone because of their status, or what favours they could grant.

Beside you, Aegon was complaining about how he was about to end up being betrothed to either you or Helaena, while Aemond was claiming to be determined in fulfilling his duties, even if it means marrying either of

you two.

You watched from a distance as Jacaerys offered comfort to Laena Velaryon's daughters, holding one of their hands in his.

“Seriously,” Aegon said, glancing at you. “She should have just let you marry Jacaerys Velaryon.”

Looking at the sight before you, of Baela and Jacaerys’ hands, you considered the thought for the first time. You shook your head at the selfish thought. Their mother had just died.

Without a word, you left your three siblings, making your way towards the stairs leading down to the shore.

You looked around for a piece of wood, finally picking up a slightly damp one. Crouching, you felt around your boots for a dagger you've hidden there, having left your sword in your temporary quarters. You unsheathed the dagger and started whittling away. You were no artist by any means, but the act kept you from spiraling into your own sometimes irrational thinking.

Being engrossed in your work, you hadn't noticed someone approaching. You started when your name was uttered, causing your hand to slip.

You looked up, wincing at the brightness of the sky. Jacaerys stood beside you, fidgeting, unsure.

Then his eyes widened. “You're bleeding!” He exclaimed before falling to his knees. You didn't realize that you had cut yourself.

“Oh…ouch.” You sucked in a breath as he inhaled sharply, both simultaneously hissing at the wound. You caught his gaze before laughing. He snorted, failing to suppress his laughter. Then he shook his head.

“We shouldn't be laughing, we must tend to it immediately.”

“It's just a scratch, look, it already stopped bleeding.” You said before crawling towards the waves and thrusting your hand into the salty water.

He frowned, before grabbing your wrist and pulling it out of the water.

“Don't just dip your bleeding hand in there. Saltwater isn't kind to open wounds. We have to keep that cut clean and dry or else it'll fester.”

You tilted your head. “I thought seawater would clean wounds, not infect them.”

“Well, it isn't necessarily harmful, but I've heard stories about Sea Snake's voyage and about sailors whose wounds became worse when exposed to seawater.”

“Oh. Perhaps they were exposed too long. Anyways it should be fine, it's not that deep.”

“But it's my fault,” he said, his shoulders slumping.

You shook your head. “No it isn't.”

“I practically sneaked up on you.”

“No, my back was to you. Even if you'd announced your presence from way over there, I would've still made the same mistake. It was my fault for not being aware of my surroundings.”

He giggled. “We haven't seen each other in a while and the first thing we do is argue.”

“I read somewhere that lighthearted arguments are necessary for a healthy friendship.”

He gave you a sheepish smile to which you responded to with one of your own. You were glad that conversations came as easily as it did before.

“I'm glad that you are still talking to me, after everything.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I should be the one to say that to you.”

He shook his head, his soft hair bouncing at the act. “I understood what you meant, when you said you no longer wanted to associate yourself with me. I was hesitant to approach you because I knew my presence is unwelcome. It was my fault you've been endlessly berated by your mother, you have a right to be mad.”

You reeled back, scrunching up your face at what he had said. “First of all, when did I ever say that?”

“Why, in your letters.” He answered, and you couldn't stop yourself from making a noise of confusion.

“I sent letters to you. And you never responded, so I thought you were mad at me.” You said.

“What letters?” He asked. “You only sent one, wherein you told me that you've been enduring your mothers wrath to keep on being friends with me. Then you told me to stop sending you letters, which is reasonable. I should've thought about it before sending you ravens after ravens, anybody would've felt annoyed.”

“But I never wrote anything of the sort, and I received no letters from you, none at all.”

“Oh,” he said. Horrified at the thought of somebody else having read his endearments that were meant for your eyes only.

You scoffed, incredulous. Thinking about how someone had been deliberately keeping things from you, and that the maids and the knight assigned to you must've been in on it. A heavy feeling of dread settled in your chest at the thought that one of your family, if not multiple, have been intercepting letters meant for you.

Both of you were silent, only the crashing waves could be heard.

“Huh,” you said.

“Yeah…” he answered. “So you aren't mad at me at all?” He asked.

“No!” You answered. “Are you? Mad at me, I mean.”

“Why should I be?”

“I blame myself for…well now it sounds stupid but I felt partially at fault when Rhaenyra was forced to remove herself from the Keep. “

“It is not your fault, that should be obvious.”

You sighed. “I know. I was just disappointed I guess. It's not a secret that I prefer your companionship more than my own brothers. Sometimes I wish Helaena and I were….nevermind.”

He did not agree, and wasn't afraid to reject your idea.

“I'm glad that you aren't my sister, but not because I wouldn't want to be able to be with you always.” He said, quick to clarify what he meant.

“You are devoted to The Seven, and unlike Targaryens, it is a sin for pious people like you to marry brothers and sisters. Therefore if you and Helaena had been born in my family, as my sisters, you probably wouldn't even consider marrying me.”

You were surprised that he mentioned marriage. He must've noticed because he went on to explain. “Mother asked me if I wouldn't mind being married to you. She told me that it would help strengthen our claim.” He explained.

You were impressed that your half-sister discussed such matters with her young son. Most wouldn't have bothered, only thinking of what they could gain from marrying their sons and daughters off.

“Well, think about it. If I were born as your sister, perhaps I wouldn't even be as pious. Devotion to The Seven is my mother's influence on me.”

“Huh,” he said. Comically in the same manner you did earlier.

“Now that my mother rejected your mother’s suggestion, you will be marrying another. Perhaps one of Lady Laena's daughters.” You said, unintentionally probing.

He looked to the sky, pursing his lips in thought, before nodding solemnly. “Perhaps. Baela's my age.”

“Lady Laena is a good woman, I heard. A gentle, loving mother and a fierce dragonrider. No doubt her daughters are the same. She will make a fine wife, and queen in the future.”

He only stared at you for a moment, and you wondered if he heard jealousy in your voice that you weren't aware of.

“Would you like to meet her?” He asked.

When Jacaerys asked if you wished to meet Baela Targaryen, you expected him to be the one to approach first, and then actually introduce you to each other. You did not expect him to just pull you forward, in front of the kid without a word. He only gestured encouragingly, as the girl looked up at you from her place on the bench. You greeted Princess Rhaenys, who was standing to the side first.

You then refocused your gaze in Baela's teary eyes, then at Rhaena's. You told them your name and offered your condolences, to which they replied by expressing pleasure in meeting you.

“We've heard much about you, princess.” Rhaena said, but then said no more. It was her sister Baela who clarified things in her stead.

“Princess Rhaenyra often mentions you in her letters. Mother would sometimes read the letters to us, so that we may get to know the people that are part of our family, especially those closest to our age. We always hoped we may meet.”

“Not only that,” Rhaena said after swallowing thickly. This time her voice carried a little bit of cheer in it, as if eager to express congeniality. “We oft heard stories about your benevolence, how at such a young age you were told to be wise beyond your years, having virtues encouraged by The Seven. Your reputation precedes you.”

You politely, (savagely, in Jacaerys’ opinion) swatted their words away.

“Exaggerated praises. The hightower lords liked to praise me too much. I haven't done anything worthy of receiving such veneration. Although…” you paused, successfully gaining their full attention.

“Don't tell anyone I said this,” you said, although hardly making any effort to lower your voice. “They might have been doing so to make me a desirable wife as much as they can, to paint me as soft spoken, caring, motherly, and keen to obey her husband.” You leaned towards them, as did Jacaerys to be able to hear you still.

“And I played the role well. Even got a sword out of it. I'll show you later. Absolutely nobody can tell me to get rid of it. It's got my name on it and everything as proof that I had complete blessing to carry it.” You were pleased as they gasped, surreptitiously smiling at your almost rebellious words. Rhaenys herself chuckled. You figured she was pleased that you managed to distract the sisters even for a moment.

“But, if that is so, why would they let you have a sword. Isn't that a bit contradictory?” Baela asked. It was a sound question. If the Hightowers were so fooled, why would they give you something that was mostly used by men?

“Ah. Took me some time, of course. I argued that since women are encouraged to embody various virtues associated with The Seven, I also had the prerogative to embody The Warrior. Courage and strength in defending the faith and the family are valued. This applies to both men and women in defending their beliefs and loved ones. And I argued, quite incessantly. The thing about old men is that if you tire them enough with ferocious tenacity, they're much more likely to give you what you asked, so long as you asked politely while also letting them hear what they want to hear. Targaryens had no issue with their women carrying around swords but I didn't make the mistake of reminding them needlessly that I wasn't purely a Hightower. I focused on what they believed in.”

They listened attentively, looking up at you with wide eyes and nodding.

“The stories do not seem so exaggerated. Those are wise words coming from such a young lady.”

You felt conscious of Princess Rhaenys’ scrutinizing gaze. You hoped you did not cross any lines, telling your younger cousins about practically manipulating old people.

“Of course, I do not condone such dishonest behaviors and manipulative tactics.” You added.

“You know what,” you said. Thinking of distracting everyone from the things you've just said. You handed your dagger to Baela.

“I am giving this to you, because I believe that from this day forth, you need any protection you can get. Now you have a fine dagger to protect you and your loved ones and you gained it not through deception so be not afraid to keep it, to wield it. To protect your sister.”

The girl's eyes widened as you placed the dagger in her hands. She looked around before bending over to study it.

“It's so beautiful,” Rhaena exclaimed.

“But Princess, if this was a gift I cannot take it from you. Besides, it looks too expensive.”

You shrugged. “Eh, one can do as they like with the gifts they receive. My instructor gave that to me, along with other trinkets so you're fine.” You said, waving your hand once again, this time dismissively before abruptly pausing. “If it is alright of course, to Princess Rhaenys.”

The older Princess shrugged as well, her smile eased the tensions you were worried of being responsible for.

“Well then I'll leave you to it.” You clasped your hands behind your back and left them to their own devices. You prayed that they wouldn't cut themselves or else you'd feel even more guilty than you already do.

You heard his footsteps before he finally caught up to you.

“You ramble a lot.” He observed.

“I do not think I can help it. I rarely get to speak with girls my age let alone younger ones. Other than Helaena.” You answered.

“Do not worry too much. I think they like you.”

“I hope they do. And I hope the Princess does not take the things I said seriously. It was foolish of me to tell the truth, especially when the truth isn't pristine and as pure as how I am believed to be.” You halted, pivoting to face Jacaerys. “If you never hear from me again, know that I would never not send you ravens, and that the cause may be that Princess Rhaenys told my mother of the things I've done. I'll be languishing in the dungeons with only the memory of our friendship to console me.”

Jacaerys held up his hand against his lips to muffle his laughter, before looking around in guilt.

“Will you stop making me laugh? It is highly inappropriate…” He whispered.

“I am not trying to be funny.” You whispered.

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” Jacaerys took a deep breath, and assumed a gloomy air. You did as well, composing yourself now that you were walking past some people.

“I also wanted to apologize,” you said.

“About what?”

“I am sorry that you and your family cannot openly mourn the loss of Ser Harwin Strong. He was a good man. Fiercely loyal and devoted to protecting your family.”

He nodded, blinking rapidly as tears began to gather in his eyes.

“I feel…severely disappointed and angry. Angry that I should be expected to mourn someone I do not know instead of—of my…” his voice was shaking, and you watch as his face start to redden, his lips quivering.”

You pulled him aside, behind a tent where no one could see nor hear the two of you.

You engulfed him in a hug, steadying him as sobbed. His pale complexion shifted almost to purple as he struggled to keep quiet. You had to remind him to breathe, that it was alright to cry and so he did. His tears stained your dress, though you did not mind. You only wanted to make sure he let his feelings out instead of bottling them up inside. He sniffed, sobs racking his body for a few more seconds before he started to hiccup instead.

“Alright, now. Take a deep breath—inhale, my prince…good now hold your breath. And breathe out.”

You let him gather himself, waiting patiently until his hiccups began to subside.

“I'll go get you some water, stay here.” He shook his head and refused to let go of your wrist.

“I'm fine,” he said, sniffing.

You sighed, before sliding your hands around him to pat him in the back.

“Thank you. And sorry.” He said, pointing at a damp spot on your dress.

“It's nothing.”

“I feel a bit better now. Thank you for letting me…” he paused, looking for the right words.

“I understand, Jacaerys.” You held his gaze steadily. “I do.”

He nodded.

“Oh, wait. I forgot.” You felt around your dress, fishing out a neatly folded handkerchief.

He chuckled while you wiped his tears away.

“Could've been much more useful earlier.”

“Hey, at least it's being useful now.”

You felt his hands clasp at the fabric around your waist as you busied yourself with making him presentable again.

“There we go.” You said. You looked around to make sure no one was spying on you two. You see Aemond start to approach the grieving Baelia and Rhaena, before changing his mind and returning to his place beside Helaena.

Seeing that nobody had noticed you two were missing yet, your eyes settled back on the boy in front of you.

Jacaerys was already staring at you, quite unabashedly before catching himself. He looked down, his gaze landing on his hands that were holding on to your dress.

“Sorry, it’s just…You’re very pretty.” He muttered.

“Thank you, my prince. You’re handsome yourself.”

“Thank you,” he replied, blushing.

“Seven Hells, just kiss already.”

It was almost painful, the way you had to supress the overwhelming urge to deck the peeping idiot. You feel Jacaerys’ hold on you clothes shift to your waist instead and you almost rolled your eyes. Instead of backing off and pretending to be at least five feet apart just for show, he put you two in a more compromising position. Though you do not blame him. He was certainly more rattled than you were, judging by the way he nearly jumped, and the way his breathing picked up speed.

“Oh, it seems that you’ve already been.” Aegon continued. You pursed your lips in annoyance, while Jacaerys peeked over your shoulders to glare at the other boy.

“We’ve done no such thing,” he said.

“Right, you expect me to believe you when you look like that? Let’s see. Your cheeks are red as Caraxes, you’re panting, and teary-eyed, also not to mention you’re clinging desperately to my sister with your grubby little hands.”

Jacaerys huffed, before letting his hands fall slack at his sides.

You finally turned to face Aegon while he let out a long whistle.

“Don’t look at me like that sister. Before you go and plan my death, know that I have no desire at all to breathe another word about this…to other people at least.” He giggled. “Trust that I will be holding this over your head.” He waved goodbye at the two of you. “Now, then. I must go back to my cups. It’s getting darker and our grandfather will have a harder time looking for me in the dark.”

It was indeed getting dark, the evening slowly turning into night. Several of the courtiers were already making their way inside.

Not letting Aegon disrupt the moment, you held Jahaerys’ by the hand, gently leading him inside the castle.

That night, you woke to the sharp pain of someone's hand digging into your shoulders to rouse you.

“Wake up,” Aegon snarled.

“What do you want?” You groaned, waving away the stench of alcohol that came from him.

“Something's happened. Everyone is gathering at the main hall…a maid sent word of mother's summons. I could hear her crying all the way over here.

You sat up, hastily flinging your legs off the bed.

Aegon made a move towards Helaena.

“Do not wake her,” you said. “She's exhausted.” You pulled him away from her before practically sprinting down the hall.

You and Aegon arrived just as the Maester was finishing up with stitching Aemond's face back together. The sight of the large scar across the left side of his face made you gasp. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh Aemond.” You cried, kneeling down to take a better look at the damage, almost knocking the Maester face down on the ground in your haste.

His eyebrows bunched together and his lips trembled, as you grabbed a hold of his hands, crying about how much pain he must be in.

Alicent asked about how bad the wound was and the Maester said it would heal, but the eye was lost. You wiped at your tears, whispering to Aemond that it will be alright.

You watched as Alicent stomped over to Aegon. “Where were you,” she asked, her eyes blazing.

“Me?” Aegon asked before his head jerked to the side as Alicent slapped him across the face.

You did not listen to whatever she said next. You turned to the Maester and asked if Aemond already had something for the pain.

“I'll prepare it right away, Princess.”

“I'm okay.” Aemond whispered to you, the apparent pain in his voice suggested otherwise.

Rhaenyra and Daemon arrived just moments after Princess Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon.

When asked about what happened, all the children had started to raise their voice in their defense.

You stood up to the side right next to Aegon while Alicent took your place, screaming for justice while holding on to Aemond's hand.

“Sorry, I wasn't listening, what happened?”

Aegon leaned towards you, but wasn't able to speak at all when Aemond named him as the person who told him the “lies.”

“Me?” He whispered incredulously, horrified.

You stepped away without a word and let your father interrogate him.

You thought about going to Baela and Rhaena instead to ask them what had happened but decided against it since everyone else was speaking over each other, anyway. It was too noisy to have a proper conversation.

The mention of a blade caught your attention and your eyes flickered towards Baela, then at Jacaerys. Both were already looking at you. The former looked apologetic, the latter refused to meet your eye again.

You pursed your lips, almost sucking them in awkwardly as you try to suppress a laugh.

All feelings of irrational amusement vanished when your mother turned to Criston Mole, demanding for Luke's eye as payment.

“Now that's going too far.” You heard Aegon mutter as he sidestepped closer to you.

“How would you feel if your son lost an eye while the offender gets away without repercussions?” You ask, trying to defend your mother. But the desire to defend her vanished when she drew a dagger and resolved to mete out her justice with her own hands.

You tried to pass through men who'd drawn their own swords, but everything happened too fast and blood was already drawn.

Truthfully, you were glad it wasn't much worse. But if Alicent had accidentally slit Rhaenyra's throat, all Seven hells would break loose. You shook your head, disappointed with your mother, though you could not entirely blame her. You weren't a mother, you didn't know how it feels to see your son in such a state. Aemond was your brother, and it pained you to see him like that.

“Do not mourn for me, mother.” He said. He may have lost an eye, but he gained a dragon.

“Dragon? What?” You asked.

“He claimed Vhagar.” Aegon supplied the answer.

You were taken aback, pride filling your chest briefly before recalling the fact that Vhagar was the dragon and Laena Velaryon, therefore her daughter had the right to try and claim the dragon. Aemond must have beaten her to it. It was only natural that Rhaena hadn't claimed Vhagar, for she was still grieving.

Everyone was encouraged to retire to their beds as the matter was settled, though you knew it was not the case for your mother.

You pushed through a crowd and made your way to Rhaenyra. She nodded at you, then towards their chambers urging you to follow.

“Do not look so distressed, sister.” She said when she caught you worrying your lips while she was getting her wound stitched up. First light spilled through the curtains in the window, the sun already rising, everyone else would be getting ready to go back to the Keep.

“You will scar, but the wound will heal. Valyrian steel cuts clean.” The Maester said.

“Don't.” Rhaenyra said with a firm voice. You look up at her only to find her eyes fixed at you firmly. “You worry too much.” She gestured at your bouncing knees, a habit of yours when you are anxious. You swallowed thickly and shifted in your seat.

“I gave them the blade that was used to injure Aemond. If I hadn't, perhaps things wouldn't have escalated so much. You wouldn't have been hurt.”

“If you hadn't given them the blade, he could've seriously hurt my sons.” Rhaenyra answered. “I am sorry for what happened to your little brother. It was a tragic accident. Still, you have my gratitude.”

“He was going to hit Jacaerys with a rock.” Lucerys explained in a timid voice. He hadn't so much as looked at you when you arrived.

You tapped on the table, urging Lucerys to look at you.

“You did what you had to in order to protect your brother. You were very brave, Luke.”

The frown on his face vanished, then he nodded, offering you a hesitant smile that widened when you smiled back at him.

“I'm not sorry that what happened earlier caused Aemond to lose his eye.” Jacaerys said.

“Jace…” Rhaenyra softly admonished.

“But I am sorry for the distress it caused you,” he said, looking into your eyes.

Rhaenyra, with a raised eyebrow observed the two of you. She pursed her lips to hide her growing smile before clearing her throat to call for your attention, her gaze soft. “When I said that your brother should be questioned sharply, I did not mean it. I knew my father would never let it happen. I only wanted to…” she sighed, trailing off. You knew she only wanted to provoke Alicent, and you remember how she took it upon herself to get back at Lucerys, a child merely six years of age.

You shook your head. “We were all distressed, but my mother went too far when she drew a blade against your family and—”

“I will not have you apologizing, again, about offenses that you did not commit.” Rhaenyra cut you off.

“Time and time again, over and over even when you were younger than Luke you apologize for your mother, your brother, your grandfather. Sometimes I wish you weren't such a curious little thing, so adamant in learning about our past. Your knowledge of it has changed your opinions on the people you're supposed to trust the most. Now I ask you, never to apologize again for people who feel not a sliver of remorse for what they've done.” Her voice slightly wavered at the end, still her gaze lingered on you.

The years of harassment and intimidation her sons received for their questionable parentage, Alicent holding her higher status as queen above Rhaenyra's head, going as far as blatantly studying her son right after she gave birth, and Ser Harwin Strong's death.

You wanted to apologize for everything.

You knew the queen held resentment for Rhaenyra who gets to live her life the way she wants, love the person she wants to love, while your mother tried her best to fulfill her duties, ultimately causing her to become bitter when she does not get what she thinks she is owed for playing by the rules.

It doesn't mean that Rhaenyra's family were the only ones who were tested. Though you feel as if every bad fortune that shrouds your family, was a direct consequence of their decisions, not by design of their rivals. You knew about the underhanded tactics your grandfather and mother committed in the past, their own kin told you about it back at Oldtown. You agreed with Rhaenyra. Perhaps if you hadn't been so curious, you'd stay blissfully ignorant and therefore still fiercely loyal to your mother. But then maybe you would treat Jacaerys and his brothers the same way your siblings do, without your affection for their mother to serve as a bridge to their lives. You probably would have been ignoring them for real, at worse, you would have been harassing them as well.

The doors were pushed opened by Laenor Velaryon, stopping in his hurried tracks as he scans the injuries accumulated while he was gone to who-knows-where.

“Gods.” He exclaimed, taking in Jacaerys cuts and bruises, Lucerys’ broken nose, and Rhaenyra's wounded arm.” “Is everyone alright?”

It was the Maester who answered. “A broken nose is the worse.”

Rhaenyra dismissed the Maester. You took this as you que to leave. She called your name and held your gaze. You knew what her look meant. ‘Do not forget what I said.’

You nodded to her and made your way to the door. She then turned towards her sons

“You as well. You've already found enough trouble today.”

“Yes mother.” The two boys said.

Jacaerys grabbed a hold of your wrist the moment the door closed.

“When will you be leaving?” He asked.

You looked around, seeing servants passing by, busy preparing for the king's departure.

“Sooner than I would like.” You said.

“Don't go,” Lucerys begged, wrapping his arms around your waist. He would've buried his face against your stomach if it weren't for his broken nose. Instead he looked up at you imploringly.

“I'll be back. Sooner than you think.” You said. “I won't let them stop me. I'll do as I have always done to get what I want.”

Jacaerys’ shoulders slumped in relief.

“You aren't mad at me? At us?” He asked.

You shook your head, chuckling.

“It takes a lot for me to be mad at someone. You forget how vile my elder brother is. I'd have tons of training already. Though it is useless when it comes to you. You are nothing like them. Nothing.”

“I care for you deeply.” You rubbed circles at Lucerys’ back, while keeping your gaze on Jacaerys’.

Jacaerys engulfed you in a hug, and at that moment, you felt your heart swell with warmth. Then the door opened.

You all jerked at the sound. Rhaenyra chuckled at the sight. “I am glad to see you three are getting along so well.”

Lucerys cheered, delighted at the fact that you weren't going to cut him off for what had happened. Jacaerys was a blushing mess as his mother gave him a knowing look. You stood with your back straight, hands clasped behind your back, seemingly composed, but speechless.

You ignored your less than pleased mother as she shook her head at you before climbing into the carriage after your father.

You were waiting for the entourage to head out, with Jacaerys by your side. Lucerys wanted to see you off too, but you decided against it as things were currently too tense between your families right now and you did not want to risk him losing his eye to some vengeful git. Rhaenyra on the other hand, said she was going to see you off by the cliffside.

Your brothers and sisters were already preparing for the flight home on top of the cliff.

You had already said your goodbyes with the promise of a swift return, but Jacaerys could not help but steal another embrace from you before you made your way back to your siblings.

A/N: Reader is so team black😭🙏 forgive me, readers who are team green. (I'm team Brackenwood...Blacken? Blackwren whatever ship name yall come up with for our favorite enemies to lovers ship.)

Btw, next chapter will be the longest, it will contain romantic tension since they will be of age there. So there's romance, angst, longing, war, death, smut, fluff.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

The Power of Faith (Matthew 9:18-34)

“A ruler came and knelt before him and said: My daughter has just died. But come and put your hand on her, and she will live.”

Only comparatively few of our Lord’s healings are recorded. He seems never to have refused to heal any who came to Him or were brought to Him. Besides, He healed some for whom no one interceded. Here was a ruler an exceptional case, for the rulers were not His friends. Probably this man’s great distress led him to seek healing for his child even in spite of his dislike of Jesus. The ruler and his prejudice, were lost in the father .

Trouble comes just as inevitably and as resistlessly, to the mansions of the great and rich as to the homes of the lowly and poor. None are exempt. We can build no walls and set up no doors to exclude sickness and death! This is one lesson.

Another lesson, is that when sickness or any other trouble comes to us we ought to send for Christ. We are to send for physicians, too, in sickness. They are God’s ministers of healing. Usually God requires our cooperation in all that He does for us. But we should also send for Christ. He alone has original power to heal. Life is His gift and is under His care. Health is His alone to give. Medicines unblessed by Him give no relief. Only at His bidding can anyone be restored from illness. While we use all the means within our reach we should use them with prayer for Divine blessing on them, and in dependence on Divine power. Whenever anyone is sick in our house we should send for Jesus and put the case in His hands.

Jesus was always eager to help those in trouble. He arose at once at the ruler’s request, and followed him to his home. It seems strange, when we think who the man was, probably unfriendly to Jesus, that He should so quickly rise and follow this ruler. But it was always thus. He did not wait to make inquiry concerning the man, whether he was worthy or not, before going with him. The man that needed Him was the man He wanted. In this alacrity in doing good Jesus was only showing the alertness of Divine love. In heavenly glory now, He is as quick to hear and as prompt to answer our cries as He was that day in His earthly humiliation. He is always at our call. He never has so much to do or so many calls to answer that He cannot attend to our case. Indeed, when we come to Him with any need, He has no other thing to do but attend to us! We should be like our Master in all this. We should be quick to respond to the calls of need and distress about us. We ought to train our hearts to sympathy and thoughtfulness, and our hands to quick, gentle ministry in Christ’s name.

Then came an interruption as the Master was hastening with the ruler to his house. “Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the hem of His garment.” The street was thronged with people waiting for an opportunity to get near to the Healer. The “hem of His garment” is always within reach of earth’s sufferers. He has gone up now on high, out of our sight but His garment floats everywhere. We never can get beyond the sweep of its folds. We can always come near enough to Christ to reach out a trembling finger and touch His garment and find healing!

Of course, we must not make a mistake about this hem. It is not a crucifix, nor is it some relic of a dead saint, nor is it even a bit of the wood of the cross. It is not even the Bible, for touching the Bible will do no one good. Nor is it the Church and its ordinances; for we may belong to the Church and observe its ordinances, and get no benefit to ourselves. To touch the hem of Christ’s garment is to touch Christ Himself. His garment is His life, His love, His Spirit, His grace.

A human physician, if hurrying on such an errand, would probably have refused to listen to any calls for help on the way, as the ruler’s child was actually dead. But Jesus stopped quietly and turned to see the woman who had touched Him. Mark says that He asked, “Who touched My garments?” How did He know that one touch amid all the jostling of the crowd? The multitudes were close about Him, pressing up against Him. Many of them touched Him. The disciples thought it strange that He should ask such a question. The people could not help touching Him. But there was one touch different from all the rest. There was something in it which sent a thrill through Him. There was a heart’s cry in it, a piteous, earnest supplication. It was a touch of faith. It was not like the jostling of the crowd an accidental or unconscious touch, the mere touch of nearness. It was intentional. There was a soul’s cry in it. So, amid all the crude pressure of the multitude, He felt that touch, and turned about to see the one who had touched Him.

Jesus always knows the touch of true faith and prayer among all the touches of this great world. In one sense all men are near to Him, for He is everywhere present. We cannot move without pressing up against Him. But when among all earth’s millions one person intentionally reaches out a hand to feel for Him, to touch Him with a purpose, with a longing or a desire, to seek for some blessing, or to beg some help and He instantly knows the pressure of that touch and turns to answer it. He knows when a hungry heart wants Him no matter how obscure the person, how poor, or how hidden in the crowd.

Notice His graciousness in answering the woman’s prayer. “Jesus turning and seeing her said, Take heart, daughter, your faith has healed you.” This was a bit of Christ’s wayside work. He was hastening with Jarius to his home, to restore his dying child and healed this poor woman on the way. We would call it incidental work, unpurposed, unplanned. The things we set out in the morning to do are not by any means all the things that we do in any well-spent day. If we have the life of Christ in us, everyone that touches us gets some blessing from us. While busy at our work, we speak kindly to those who meet us or who are near us and an influence of warmth, cheer or encouragement, or an inspiration toward better living goes from us to them. We meet one in trouble as we hurry by and stop to give a word of comfort. We hear of a case of distress and we send or carry relief. Thus, if we have the spirit of Christ, our wayside service will be a most valuable and important part of our work in this world.

We do not know how long Jesus was detained in healing and comforting the woman on the way. “Jesus entered the ruler’s house and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd.” The child was dead and they were preparing for the funeral. So it seemed that He had tarried too long along the way. To us it appears, that He ought not to have stopped at all to heal or talk with the woman. She could have waited. But when we read the story through to the end we are glad that He did stop to help the woman. We learn form His delay that Jesus never is in a hurry. He is never so much engrossed in one case of need, that He cannot stop to consider another. He is never so pressed for time, that we have to wait our turn. No matter what He is doing, He will always hear instantly our cry for help.

Another thing we learn from this delay is that Jesus never comes too late; He never waits too long. True, the ruler’s child died while he lingered but this only gave Him an opportunity for a greater miracle. He delayed, that He might do a more glorious work for this family. There is always some good reason for it when Christ seems to delay to answer our prayers or come to our help. He delays, that He may do more for us in the end.

“The girl is not dead but asleep .” This was Christ’s word always about death. He said His friend Lazarus was asleep. He says the same of all His friends. They are not dead. Indeed, they never lived so really, so richly, so fully as they live, when we call them dead! They are away from all the limitations of earthly life, set free from the hampering prison of the flesh, cleansed of all sin, “spirits of just men made perfect.”

Christ changed the whole aspect of death for His people! To them death is but the passage to life rich, blessed, glorious life. Even bodily death is a sleep and sleep is not a terrible experience. It is restful and refreshing, and then we wake again from sleep and live on beyond it. So the body sleeps, and will rise again renewed and wearing immortal beauty. Christ called this child from her sleep very soon ; it will be longer before He will call those whom we lay down in death’s sleep but He will surely wake them in His own time, in the blessed, glorious morning. It is wonderful comfort to us to know that Christ has care of our sleeping dead and has the keys of their graves and can call them when He will.

Another phase of human need is met in the next incident. “Two blind men followed Him.” There are a great many people, who are blind in another way. They can see certain things but certain other things, they cannot see at all. They can see mountains and plains and blue skies, and human faces, and money and real estate, and all earthly things; but they cannot see God, nor heaven, nor the beauty of holiness, nor the inheritance of believers, nor any of the unseen things of blessedness and Divine glory. They can see only material things, which are neither enduring nor eternal; but they cannot see spiritual things, which alone are real. Natural blindness is a sore loss. A blind man misses all the glorious beauty of this world. He cannot see where to go and has to be led by the hand. But spiritual blindness is an infinitely more sore loss. Christ alone could give sight to the blind. He opened eyes, that had always been closed. He alone can open the eyes of the spiritually blind. If we cannot see spiritual things, we should call upon Christ to have mercy upon us.

Always faith was required. “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” The men must have faith, before Jesus would heal them. When we come to Him asking Him to do anything for us, He wants to know if we believe that He is able to do it. Once a father came to Him for his demon possessed son, and his prayer was, “If You can do anything, have compassion on us, and help us.” But the “if” marred the request the father was not sure that Jesus could cure his son, and Jesus sent him back to get a better faith. “If you can!” He answered. “All things are possible to him that believes .” As soon as the man could say, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” Jesus cured the boy (Mark 9:22-24). May it be that the reason why many of our prayers are not answered, is because we do not believe that Christ is able to do what we ask of Him? If we can believe He can give what we ask. If we cannot believe He will not do anything for us.

[hekaates]

open letter to ems (part ii) — @officialjimmybuffet

Hey bitch. Happy birthday

First time it’s just a letter, second it’s a pattern, how long until it counts as tradition?

Maybe it’s weird but I started to write this letter on December 13th, 2022. 179 days until your birthday but I felt the need to start writing this, felt the need to put my sentiments into words.

Yesterday I sent you 18 audios, several minutes each of course, explaining you in deep detail the plot of the first Avatar movie. I watched it alone after my mom went to sleep and to be frank Im kind of glad she did or else she’ll catch me crying over the scenery of a planet that doesn’t exist, from a movie that I’m pretty sure doesn’t pass the Belchdel test (update: it does not, everything is about Jake Sully and his terrible habits). It’s sitting in the bathroom floor all alone, waiting for people to stop screaming at each other that makes me realize how much I needed you in my life, how much I need, and will need someone who understands and compliments (as in complementary) me as well as you do. I like Avatar because I’m insane, but also because I see someone so lost and so insane in their own world they have to go literally to another planet to find a home, because somehow they do and I think, fuck maybe I could to. Looking back at it, the fact Jakes best friend is a short haired ginger scientist (healthcare science is a science right?) might make it even more close to home. (I hope in the end of this story, I don’t turn blue and you die and come back reincarnated as my daughter, but if you do it’d be hilarious and pretty on brand for us).

Everytime I remember you exist I am no longer alone. One time we were talking about the saints (this phrase in itself explains our relationship better than any other thing I can say here) and we said: I’d pick your saint if you pick mine. I remember the first time I wrote it, I looked at the screen, I looked at me and I looked at you (the only way I can, deep inside my mind) and I realize that with no other person this sentiment would make sense, no other person could I send a message at 22h explaining the in-depth history of Brazilian reality shows and make it so that I’m not insane or annoying or terrible, no other person would I search the deep webs of Wikipedia to find out what Saint was killed on June 10 (ps. It’s Saint Olivia, that’s my sisters name).

Saint Emma is the keeper of pharmacy, Saint Luisa the keeper of grief, somewhere along the lines God made it so we can meet and this would make a little bit too much sense.

I want to thank you for always holding my hand, even if have never touched, even if we never do. Times passed, I forget to write and now your birthday is in 4 days and now it is in 2 days and I find myself plagued by a loneliness only you can fill (I think this is the gayest sentence I’ve ever wrote and that’s saying something). Right now I look at the sun and it’s 4pm here so it means that in the other side of the world it’s 3pm and you are looking at the same sun, as the sunlight burns the right side of my face I can’t help but wonder if right now, in the other side of the hemisphere, it burns the left side of your face, that in the sunlight our faces meet and become one (again, really going for the gayness vibe rn).

The only future I am content with is the one I have you by my side, it’s the one I can call you to spend christmas with my family be it next to a British young star celebrity or not (but like if god wants him to spend several christmases with me then like I can’t say no right that’s on God not me right anyways I’m getting of track-) In the good ending it’s Christmas afternoon and I’m sitting by the pool showing you how to open an earl fruit or a persimmon while my siblings play with the speaker. In the good ending we’re in a club in New Jersey and I have no idea how to order a drink, in the good ending, when the movie is about to be done I grab your hand and say “hey.”

So, yeah.

Hey.

[catsnuggler]

I think it's funny how, genetics being what it is, I most likely have a body type similar to that of my ancestors, even though their cultures didn't pass on.

I wasn't taught Shakespeare at home, or in church; I was taught in English class at school, just like everybody was, because American colonial culture stems from English culture, but makes divergences of its own, and it pushes this reformed-away-from-Englishness culture onto all under its sway, whether or not they happen to like Shakespeare. Personally, I fucking love his work, but I don't think everybody should have been made to read him, even though I enjoyed it. Anyway, so Shakespeare was taught as part of English language, and naturally there were some cultural elements, but this wasn't taught to us as, like, Our English Heritage or something. It's just that he was influential to the English language, of which we speak a dialect, so we'd better learn it to speak the language properly. I wasn't raised to be English.

We happen to have a book of Robert Burns' poems at my house. That's just because my dad bought a set of Harvard Classics books on his mission. Scots happens to come to me pretty easily, but I won't make the claim that I can speak it. I think, given a difficult single page of Scots paragraphs, and *no time limit*, I could figure it out at least 70% without having to look up the words, but it would take me a while. Give me only 5 minutes, and that percentage would dramatically go down. It is closely related to English, and I've deciphered Burns' work with relative ease before, but that sure doesn't mean I know a language I never learned. Scottish Gaelic, of course, I dont know at all, even though it would have been likely that my Ulster Scots ancestors were sent to Ulster in the first place because they spoke a dialect of Scottish Gaelic which was more or less mutually inteligible with Irish Gaelic in Ulster at that point in time. I wasn't faught it, nobody in my family knows that language. My surname is Scottish, but my dad didn't even know that for much of his life; originally, he thought it was a German name.

We briefly practiced a few German cultural traditions in my childhood; but that's because my ex-stepmother is the daughter of a German immigrant, so she had grown up with some German cultural traditions which she passed on to her kids, who, themselves, are proud to practice those German cultural traditions, like advent calendars and putting out shoes for Santa Claud (or was it some other Saint?) to fill eith gifts. We stopped once the divorce was finalized, though. We never had German cultural traditions before that point, nor after, despite having some German ancestry, ourselves - though that's further back, and, again, those traditions weren't passed down.

What am I boiling all this down to? This: I've lived in a desert all my life since the age of 8, and I hated it for most of those years, because of a reason that is still true, even as my hate has gone: I cannot fucking take the heat. My body is really made for either rain-beaten England, cold Scotland, or the German woodlands, maybe the Alps. It is not made for the fucking desert. The desert is beautiful, it's wondrous, it deserves to be as it is - but I am not built for it, and I doubt I will ever be accustomed to it.

A man lacking a culture, but still built for places an entire continent away, not here. And the strange thing is that entire continent away is the land of his ancestors, not where he was born. Fucked up, innit?

[brokenonyxestate]

SHE HAS RETURNED

A few years ago we sold a young mare named BOE Martinique to Helena Saint Clair. She has been downsizing, so we have been able to buy her back, which we did happily.

With our own horses we often buy them back without even seeing the horse first, but Helena was so kind to provide us with a video of how far the mare had come, so we see that the mare still had the quality we wanted to have at our stable.

So the other day she was transported back to Denmark to BOE's new facilities by Fuglebjerg, Sjaelland. It was wonderful to get her back, and she seemed to remember our oldest mare Tetra, as she said hello to her over the fence by accident, when my daughter was a little to distracted when leading her to the jumping arena.

Calypso is a pretty experienced rider by now - though still young -, but when I told her that she would be riding Martinique today she was surprised to say the least. But daughters of mine has no fear, and she just got onto the horse, after saying propperly hello to her.

After she had warmed up the mare, I told her to choose an obstacle and jump it. She of course chose a pretty high jump, but she had seen the videos from Helena with me, so she knew what the mare was capable of.

I watched her closely as she cantered pretty controlled towards the obstacle. I tried to not make her nervous by looking at her, but looked at the horse instead. After all, the horse was what I was interested to see jump, not Calypso.

"Hold onto the reins! Don't let go!" I yelled to her, as the mare bucked pretty violently after a lower obstacle.

"I'm trying!" Calypso replied in a yelp, as she held onto the reins for dear life, trying to not pull the mare in the mouth, as she bucked and bucked.

"Talk to her to calm her down!" I then yelled. Apparently our horses are too well-mannered, since Calypso had such a hard time calming the mares. This just showed that I needed to challenge Calypso more with the horses she was riding.

Finally she seemed to have calmed down the mare, who trotted very energetically forward around the arena. I could finally look at the equipage again without laughing - because yes it looked funny, but it was serious still. Martinique is a big horse, and could injure Calypso seriously.

"Are you okay?" I asked my daughter, getting a little close to the horse.

"I'm good," she almost panted. Apparently she had gotten the wind knocked out of her when the mare jumped and bucked like a rodeo horse.

"Do you know what spooked her?" I smiled at her, and patted her leg softly, when she moved past me in a slower walk.

"She probably just had some excess energy after not being ridden for a couple of days," my daughter said smartly, and stuck out her tongue at me.

"Cheeky!" I yelled at her, sticking out my own tongue, even if her back was turned towards me, as she rode the mare away from me to calm her down from the ride.

When she had finished cooling down the mare, she came to the gate and I let her out. Then I saw my oldest son Will.

"Will!" I called out, and waved at him.

"Yeah, Ma?" he replied and walked over to us.

"Can you take a picture of Calypso and Martinique?" I asked him as he got over to us.

"Sure!" he replied kindly, and I patted his arm to then get ready to give Calypso and the mare space, "No stay. You are so rarely in any of the pictures, Ma."

"Okay then," I agreed willingly, and stepped up beside the mare, touching her neck.

Just when William was about to take the picture I leaned in a little and whispered to Calypso:

"You will be in charge of Martinique's training from now on."

Calypso didn't say anything, she just looked at me in disbelief and wonder. That just made me laugh. She was in for one hell of a challenge with this mare - that much was for sure!

[breadcrumbsconsciousness]

100 love letters—#1

I'm thinking about how to start this letter. The first, the most important one. Or second in importance. The most important will be the last. I wonder where this will take me.

Maybe I should start with "Dear [Name]" or just say "Hi"? Ask how you're doing and if you think about me? Tell how much I miss you. I don't know you longer than I once knew you. Let this letter and all letters after it be a stream of my consciousness. For now, it is. Someday it will be too late. Someday I won't be able to remember your name or the name of my (our?) daughter. Someday I won't even be able to remember my own name. Oblivion—what could be better?

No, nonsense, of course. Forgetting is scary. But somehow, I know I will remember you, even when I can't remember myself. And I'm not afraid to live because of that. No, I don't love you more than myself, my dog, or my mom.

I probably won't be able to finish this letter. I think about you, and it tightens my throat. Burns. Strangles. As if I’m about to cry, but have to hold back. I probably don't realize that I'm trying to hold myself back and actually just want to cry. Or maybe I want to express something that I can't and shouldn't. Silly ego. Or not ego, I don't know. I read very little.

I want to finish this letter, but I don't know what to say to you. I thought my therapist got very close to you, as if she almost understood me, you, and everything that happened. But, let anyone call me crazy, the human mind can't understand this. I want to spend my whole life trying to get closer to the truth, as close as possible. That way, I can live my life with you. Tears well up. I cover my mouth with my hand—to avoid making sounds. Why? I don't want to let you out of me.

By the way, I know why I didn't start the letter with Dear, "Hi," or "How are you." I wanted to write this earlier but decided to leave it for later. Saint-Petersburg. Their big cathedral—Kazan or St. Isaac's? I always confuse them. I play Nick Cave on shuffle. A song I've never heard starts playing. He sings something like "Look around, I’m right here beside you." Now I can't remember it. And I could never find this song again. The sky is so blue. It was then. Now it's November, and the sky is grey. We met in November. I'm searching for your eyes in the crowd. You were somewhere near. Maybe St. Petersburg was in your dreams. Did you see me?

I didn't know how to start the letter because we never talked like ordinary people. We never greeted each other with a "hello”. Instead, the first thing you said was to ask if I would be your wife. I will.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How would you rank the Cullens based on who is the most disconnected from reality and who is the least?

Oh, oh man, excellent question, anon. And it's sad that we have such good contenders for this. Let's get to it.

1) Esme

"Disconnected From Reality" is Esme's middle name. This is one deeply, weird, vampire who at all times seems to be on a completely different planet trapped in the 1950's. Remarkably odd as Esme herself is not from the 1950's, she just somehow sucked in that era and has remained there to this modern day.

At any given moment in the series she says something completely at odds with the given situation, something purely from Planet Esme, and everyone just stares.

Such as the time in Eclipse when the family discusses who the unknown vampire in Bella's room could be. Edward, of course, blames the Volturi (he gives no sane reason of why they would lurk in her bedroom unseen and then simply leave).

Esme thinks it might be a nice vampire who wanted to become Bella's friend.

No one says a word. Bella notes that Carlisle grimaces, but can't say anything, he just can't.

2) Bella

Bella's closely tied to Esme by the end of Breaking Dawn, actually. She's Esme's second coming. She's prancing through the woods in Chanel to eat mountain lions, has a five-year-old three-month-old daughter, has a sex cabin with Edward. Bella's life is peak surreal and she does not seem to be recovering well from that. "WHEEEE, LIFE IS PERFECT," Bella screams as she frolics about.

Bella has no understanding of what vampires are, what she now is, what life in general is. Bella has left the planet. Goodbye, Bella, we'll miss you.

3) Edward

Edward lives in an Edward dimension that, while not quite as disconnected from reality as Esme's and Bella's, still isn't the planet Earth we all know and love.

In Edward's world, Bella is a saint whose middle name is Carlisle. Carlisle turned Rosalie for the purpose of making a Bride of Frankenstein for Edward (his favoritest person in the whole world), Carlisle and Esme's relationship is the greatest on the planet and one he should emulate, Edward is a protector of the coven and without his fighting prowess and mind reading abilities they'd all be doomed, the Volturi are the most evil thing to ever grace the planet, pimping out Bella to Jacob Black is not only an acceptable solution but an admirable one, pimping out Renesmee to Jacob Black is not only an acceptable solution but an admirable one that gains him a new son-in-law that a few weeks ago he loathed entirely...

The list goes on. I'm not going to even bother with links for this, just look up anything with Edward in this blog and you will find some damning evidence.

Edward at least seems to have some awareness of what's happening in the real world. Of course, his mind makes up its own facts about what's happening and especially about who people are, but he still at least seems to be somewhat present on our plane of existence.

4) Alice

Alice, per her gift mainly, sees reality very differently than we do but she does at least glimpse it. It just makes her think in such a way that the people around her are pawns instead of people, Alice has very little in the way of empathy.

However, she does accept her visions, doesn't rail against reality entirely, she just sees the world in a very different manner than the rest of us that lends itself to... interesting choices.

5) Carlisle

Carlisle's a fairly well-grounded guy except when it comes to his family. The amount of denial and doublethink that Carlisle engages in just to convince himself he's not that dog in a house on fire is impressive.

He so desperately wants to believe they're good people, that they understand the worth of human life, that he overlooks a lot. A lot. And what he doesn't overlook he convinces himself is a) in favor of human life b) not that terrible. Even when he also makes his family go to their victims funeral so that they might learn something.

They learn nothing.

6) Rosalie

Rosalie's pretty well grounded with a very large exception. Rosalie has a very rose colored view of not only the past she might have had but also humanity in general. Rosalie's beef with Bella boils down to the choices she thinks Bella's throwing away (in truth, Bella had little to no choice as the series progressed).

Rosalie sees the human life she could have lived as perfect, and not one very likely given her human life thus far. In Rosalie's mind, she wouldn't have married Royce, would never have been the victim of sexual violence, would have married a good honest man, had beautiful children, and a simple wonderful life away from the social climbing she'd done all her life.

Rosalie is not a stage where she can admit this probably wasn't the life she would have lived. More, that humanity is not a fix-all for everything and that life still very much would have been life.

7) Jasper

Jasper's also a fairly well-grounded guy with a large exception. He desperately wants his and Alice's relationship to work. He's so mired in misery and self hatred that he puts up with a lot, a lot, of garbage in that relationship and convinces himself that it's working. It's not working.

8) Emmett

Emmett's by far the most down to earth of all of them. He sees things pretty clearly, is very with it, and he might not care but he does seem to see things as they are. He notes multiple times in Midnight Sun that Edward's lost his marbles, is aware of Rosalie's emotional mess, and always manages to keep his perspective.

Emmett fully lives on our planet.

[ahopelessromantic]

Children of Sun and Darkness (M)

Part two of A Child of Sun and Darkness

Pairing: The Darkling x Sun Summoner! female reader

Word count: 8,7k (oh boy)

Warnings: once again, spoiler of the Darkling’s name, SMUT, Aleksander being a SIMP, fluff, so much fluff, villainous behavior

A/N: I really, really got carried away with this one. Especially since I didn’t even intend to have any smut in here. But alas, the apology letters to Ben Barnes and Leigh Bardugo are sent once more and I wish you all a happy reading experience. I really do must warn you again of the Darkling as a father though, I don’t think you’re ready.

A gorgeous ray of sunshine was tickling your barely awake self.  There were things to do, certainly, but your bed felt far too heavenly to be left already. The air had recently begun to smell like the promise of summer, and it paired so nicely with the flowers Aleksander always brought to your bedside table. Aleksander, you thought sleepily and slowly opened your eyes. You would have loved to curl into his lean body for a few more minutes before getting up, but it seemed like he had already so cruelly abandoned you. You were about to pout like a little baby when a soft morning wind carried the sound of laughter through your window. Aleksander must have opened it before leaving your shared chambers. Wanting to know the source of these joyous sounds, you slipped into your morning robe and stepped in front of the big window. After your marriage to the infamous Darkling, the two of you had moved your chambers to be closer to the Little Palace’s beautiful gardens. From where you stood now, your position on the second floor gave you the perfect view over them.

“There she is.” Your husband beamed with his lovely deep voice. He was looking up to you with nothing but adoration in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself. Your daughter, barely even four, shrieked happily at your sight and sent another ray of sunshine your way. “Good morning, my love!” You called out to her. She ran up to her father, who picked her up so she could see you better. Your chest warmed at the sight of the two people you loved most in the world, the serenity in their expressions. “Good morning Mama!” She giggled back. You blew her a kiss, which she caught enthusiastically. “You should have awoken me!” You chided your husband. He smiled. “How could I, when you were sleeping so peacefully? Besides, we wanted to try if Ilona could get her sun rays all the way through to our bed. Did she manage it?” The proudest smile grew across your lips. “She did. You did amazing, honey. So amazing, that when I get down there, I’m gonna have to smooch you all over!” “NOOO!” She screamed and skipped away to the pond to look at her beloved fish. “Are you coming down for breakfast? I already had the servants set out a table.” You sighed happily and just looked at your husband for a moment. “You really do think of everything, don’t you?” The grin he sent you in response caused your knees to weaken. “Who would I be if I didn’t.” To hide your blush, you scrunched your nose and disappeared from the window to get dressed for the day. Only a short while later you had finally made it to the gardens, clad in the same colour as your husband: deep black. Upon seeing you, your daughter began to happily run towards you. Suddenly then she seemed to remember your threat of extra smooches and turned around, but it was too late. You caught up with her and gathered her into your arms, tickling and kissing her all over. She laughed loudly, only half trying to escape. “Good morning, little sunshine.” You finally properly greeted her once you were done, pressing a long kiss to the top of her head. She turned around in your arms and buried her face in your neck. “Did I do good with the sunray, mama?” You smiled and pulled her even closer. “You did so well, Ilona. I love you.” She leaned away to look at you, the brightest smile on her adorable little face. “I love you!” She responded and kissed your cheek. Saints, she was everything good and soft in the world come to life. “Can I go feed the fishies?” She asked enthusiastically. You grinned at her, forever enchanted by the little human that was so you and so Aleksander. “Of course you can. Go ask the servants, they’ll give you some food for them.” The Darkling, who had watched the interaction between you and your daughter, stepped forward with a happy smile. You were about to ask what specifically he was smiling about when he placed his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. There was barely anyone around, but the kiss’ immodesty still caused your cheeks to flush. “My sun.” He whispered, only for you to hear. “I swear you look lovelier by the day.” You sighed, still phased by the kiss, and slid your arms around his waist. “And I swear you get more charming by the day. Is it a thing of darkness, your cheek? I think I see some of it in Ilona.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I think that’s all you actually.” He nodded to where she was knelt on the edge of the pond, apparently talking to its inhabitants. “I only know one other being that can be so kind and yet so fierce.” For a moment, his words rendered you speechless, but then you pinched the fabric of his kefta. “Alright, Mr Darkling, now you’re overdoing it. Where is this breakfast you’ve promised me? I’m starving.”

Giggling like the two lovestruck Grisha you had been years ago, you set off to the little table laden with delicious breakfast foods. It gave you a perfect view of your daughter, close enough to see her, yet far away enough to allow her the space even she as a little person was owed. You and your little family spent most mornings like this: Breaking the fast together, you and your husband watching your daughter play, talking court politics while eating. There were unrests in Ravka again, unrests the old king didn’t seem capable of dealing with. “He’s a fool, and I wished I could see him gone.” You hummed at your husband’s words, staring at your tea in deep thought. If he had only been just a fool, you thought. He wouldn’t be any danger to anyone, then, but his empty-brained attempts at displays of dominance were costing the second army precious lives every time. But he was still the king, and the two of you were still just the second army’s general and his wife. “Careful with the treason talk so early in the morning, my love. I don’t think it’s all that becoming with my sweet roll.” He smiled and took your hand from across the table. You squeezed it and sent him a meaningful glance. “Besides, you never know who might be listening. You know I couldn’t bear it if the Lantsov family were to imprison you.” Aleksander sighed, now, and wistfully looked across the Little Palace’s grounds. Some Grisha were training in the far distance, Inferni, by the looks of it. His gaze was pensive, a look you well knew by now- he was planning something. But apparently, it was too early to let you in on his schemes yet. He just pressed a kiss to your knuckles and looked at you in earnest. “I promise you, my sun. One day, we won’t have to bow to anyone. Our world will only consist of our family and Grisha, and it will be safe. I promise.” An unexpectedly reverent feeling spread across the breakfast table. You nodded solemnly. “One day.” You whispered back. That seemed to please him because his face returned to the kind smiles he usually wore around you, and he pressed another kiss to the back of your hand. “I love you.” He mouthed at you, and you mouthed it right back. Then, as it tended to happen with a toddler child, the two of you were interrupted by Ilona climbing into her father’s lap. “Papa, can I have a dagger?” Both you and Aleksander snorted out a laugh at the determination in your daughter’s voice. She really was a force of nature, your little one- quite literally. Not fully in control of her powers yet, she seemed eternally surrounded half by darkness, half by light. No one had thought it possible, but so far it seemed she had inherited both yours and your beloved’s powers. Ballads were being sung about her in taverns ever since word of her powers had left the Palace walls and witch hunters trying to get to her ever since that, too. Now, Aleksander Morozova had always been concerned with the safety of all Grisha. But more and more often these days you found him pacing in his war room at night, or watching your daughter with far more than fatherly sorrow. It was an all-consuming fear and sorrow for her safety- one you shared. There was nothing you wouldn’t do to know her safe. Once you had been driven by ambition, then by love for your husband. But now such a fierce protectiveness spurred you on that caused you to think yourself capable of far greater evils than your husband had ever committed.

“Do you think the Second Army would follow us? If we were to split from the king?” Aleksander’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his deep brown eyes finding yours. The two of you had been dealing with some late-night paperwork, General’s duties. As the sun summoner and, in addition, the Darkling’s wife, you almost held as much power and responsibility as him these days. Your husband put down his pen and pensively sank back into his chair. “I don’t know.” He uttered finally. “I wish they would, of course. But some Grisha are as loyal to Ravka as Otkazat'sya. Some of them do wish to serve their country. And some of them do love their king.” He grimaced at that, and you had to bite back a laugh. “Ravka’s eagle is double-headed for a reason, you know.” He continued, and you turned serious once more. The sentiment of Ravka’s duality was a nice one- but one that was destined to fail, in your opinion. The Grisha already lived so separated from the country’s regular citizens that it was almost ridiculous to even count them as part of them. Most Otkazat'sya seemed to condemn Grisha for their powers, and most Grisha seemed to look down on the Otkazat'sya. They both had their good reasons, you figured. But how much contempt, how much annoyance or even hatred separated non-Grisha from Drüskelle? You inwardly shuddered at the thought of Fjerda’s Army, with their repeating rifles and their ruthlessness. Aleksander’s hand on your shoulder caused you to return to reality. “What’s on your mind, my sun?” He asked, his voice ever so soft. Sometimes, with how much love he showed you every day, you forgot about how evil he could be, how hated he was by so many. “I-“ You began, then sighed. “I’m thinking about what you said the other day, at breakfast. About not having to bow to anyone. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually. What would happen if we were to take one of the eagle’s heads? Leave the people and their Lantsovs to themselves and found our own sovereign nation of Grisha power. It would be of the tsar family’s interest to stay in our good natures, we could trade their foods and goods for our protection. But on our own terms. And we would be safe, in a city of our own, protected by Fabrikator walls and your Darkness. Ilona would be safe.” Your husband had that look on his face again. That look of deep contemplation. “A safe place for all Grisha. Most importantly, Ilona. That’s all I’ve ever wanted in life.” He said quietly. You stroked his cheek, ran a hand through his hair. “I know.” You hummed. For a moment, you spotted a glimpse of the man he had been when your daughter had been born. He had been so eager to do everything right. So happy, yet so frightened and worried at the same time. His first words upon seeing the little bundle that was your newborn daughter had been “She’s so small”, accompanied by tearful eyes. She had been small indeed, so very little. During the first weeks after her birth, whenever you hadn’t been holding her, he had been. There hadn’t been a nanny, a wet nurse even. The both of you had been far too afraid to let your precious daughter out of your sight. Still were. She was your everything. You felt guilty for steering your nightly conversation down such a dark path, so you took his hand and lovingly squeezed it. “I trust you, Aleksander. I trust you to do what’s right for us as Grisha, and for us as a family. And believe me when I say I will be by your side for anything you ever decide on doing.” The smallest of smiles began to tug at his lips. “Come on now.” You said softly and breathed a kiss against his jaw. “It’s late, and it’s my matrimonial duty to distract my betrothed from any worries that might plague him.” He was fully smiling now, a familiar playful glint in his eyes. He tilted his head and looked at you with one raised eyebrow. “How would you think to go about doing that?” You returned his playful smile and got up to settle yourself right into his lap. Something dark flashed across his eyes, something that told you you wouldn’t yet sleep for many more hours. “What about this?” You whispered and experimentally ground down on him. A devious smile was on your lips. For a moment, he let you have the upper hand. Leaned his head back, breathed deeply. Sometimes, you were allowed to see him like this. To have him like this. Feeling bashful, you leaned forward to place a myriad of kisses against his neck. You could almost hear his heartbeat speeding up, his breathing growing heavier. His hands wandered to your waist, then to your hips. He used his strength to press you down on him, and it was then that you were done for. Your moment had ended, it was his turn now. Aleksander looked up at you with dark eyes, his pupils were blown wide and barely noticeable in the low lighting. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you sometimes.” His voice had dropped at least an octave deeper. “My perfect, perfect wife. My perfect sun, with a body so powerful. A body strong enough to bear life.” Feeling very vulnerable all of a sudden, you had to make an effort to bite back the tears that had risen to your eyes. Your husband truly always knew what exactly to say- even to a mother who sometimes found herself quite insecure in her new curves. “I love you.” You marvelled, kissing him softly. He smiled into the kiss and deepened it until you were both gasping for air. “Shall we retreat for the night, my sun?” You were about to respond when he lifted you up and placed you on the table the two of you had been sitting at. “Or do you want to taint this place forevermore? Curse it, so I think of being inside of you whenever I hold council here?” You innocently looked up at him through your lashes. Then, you smirked. That seemed to have been answer enough, because he was on you again in seconds, devouring every inch of skin he came across. “Do you remember our first night?” You gasped out between moans. Aleksander stopped in his tracks for a moment to look at you, lifted your chin with his fingers. He looked unravelled. Like he was merely dangling by a thread anymore. “You mean when I almost had you in the hallway, of all places?” You grinned and felt your eyes light up. “Exactly.” You whispered and leaned forward to capture his lips again. He groaned into the kiss. “Saints.” He panted. He seldomly addressed saints, if ever. It sent a wave of cocky satisfaction through you. “All this time with you, and you still find ways to catch me off guard.” Chuckling, you pulled him impossibly closer by his collar, crossing your legs behind his waist and grinding up against him. “I think it’s included in those matrimonial duties of mine.” “You’re going to have to- ah.” He took a deep breath. “-Send me a list of those.” You wanted to respond something, anything, but you didn’t get the chance to. Not while your kefta was being unclasped, not while his hands bunched up your skirts around your hips. “Do you want to go slower?” He asked, breathing heavily, his forehead leaned against yours. You closed your eyes for a moment, then smiled. You felt surrounded by your husband, by his scent, his presence, his arms. Most of all, you felt safe. A kind of safety only Aleksander had ever been able to provide for you. After a moment, you shook your head. “No.” You answered, nipping at his neck. “No.” You said again, sliding his kefta off his shoulders. “I want you. I need you. Now.” Suddenly, time seemed to speed up. You helped the Darkling unbuckle his pants, shrugged off your own coat, allowed him to rip most of your blouse open. The thoughts of witch hunters and civil unrests were still heavy on your mind, and you wanted him hard and fast, so he could take away all of your worries. Normally you weren’t as impatient as this. The two of you loved drawing things out in the bedroom, all teasing kisses and devilish grins. But today, things were different. Today you wanted to forget. Today you wanted to be overpowered by him. You didn’t even have the proper time to admire his length, for as soon as it had been exposed, it was already teasing along your folds. You sighed out shakily. “How badly do you want it?” Aleksander asked, one hand playing with your breast. “So badly, Aleksander.” He sighed at that, too. His name from your words would maybe never lose its effect. “If you were taken from me, I would kill. I would destroy entire cities to have you again. To have this again.” Your words almost felt as intimate as your wedding vows. They sent you both forward again, lips colliding in a clash of teeth. His tongue touched yours and sent a bolt of electricity down to your nether regions. “Nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing will ever take me from you.” He vowed back. With that, he entered you, and you both moaned out loudly. “Fuck!” He almost yelled. “How are you still so tight?” It was clearly a rhetorical question he didn’t want an answer for, for his hands were clasped around your neck. You allowed your head to drop back in pleasure and voluntarily clenched around him. “All for you.” You rasped out through his grip. He started fucking into you at that, the both of you losing your ability to form proper sentences once the so familiar fire started to spread between you. Somewhere, the edge of a book was pricking into your side, but it only spurred you on further. You always felt like the queen of the world like this- desired, full of pleasure, the most powerful man in the kingdom losing himself in you. You thought of how he would never be able to look at this table normally again, how he would twitch in that adorable way of his whenever people weren’t paying attention to him. Saints, you loved him. You loved him. Your heart felt warm and full, but so did you. At some point he hoisted you even further onto the table, his pace relentless now. But you didn’t care, you needed more, more, more. “Aleksander!” You gasped out when he brushed up against that place inside of you. “I love you.” You panted, tightening your legs around him. He looked at you like there was nothing else ever worth being looked at. Like you were a painting he could neither understand nor get enough of. With shaky hands he moved a few wayward strands of hair out of your face, then he cupped it in his hands tightly. “I love you.” He answered, stressing each word with a thrust of his hips. “Oh fucking saints, I love you. I’m so close.” “Let go.” You encouraged him seductively, tugging at the hair in the nape of his neck. “Give it to me, Aleksander.” His pace seemed to grow impossibly faster until it grew erratic. “My sun. My love, my goddess, I’m going to-“ With a loud moan, he came, his pulsating member spilling his seed into you. You helped him ride out his high, pulled him closer, clenched and unclenched in his rhythm. He shuddered at that; head buried in your neck. It was your moment once again. He was all yours to have. “I love you.” The two of you whispered at almost the same time and broke out into laughter. But the laughter caused you to clench again, and Aleksander winced from the hypersensitivity. “You’re just too tight, my love.” He almost teased and moved to remove himself from you. He wasn’t really in a state to tease again, yet. You pouted. “But I don’t want you to leave me. I always feel so empty afterwards.” He breathed a kiss to your cheek that could have well been a concealed laugh. Sometimes the two of you would stay connected like that for ages, neither of you willing to end this incredibly pleasurable state of warmth and satiation. But while that was easy to do on a bed, it wasn’t so much on a desk. “Besides.” You continued. “We’re going to make a mess.” Your husband looked at you, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “I like the mess.”, he said decidedly. “Leave it to the servants to be cleaned up. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For someone to know what cursed, unholy things their Saint does for her evil husband?” You barely even blushed at his words. Saints, he had ruined you- in the best way possible. “Now come on, my sun.” He uttered. “If I remember correctly, you still need taking care of.” You shuddered at the thought of what was to come. His fingers inside of you, his lips on your most sensitive spot. Oh, how good you had it. Smiling and holding his hand, you followed your husband back to your chambers. He stayed true to his promise there- two times. Afterwards, you sleepily held him in your arms, your fingers drawing abstract, invisible designs onto the skin of his back. Through the connection the two of you shared you could feel his peacefulness as if it was your own, a sense of pride filling you. You were the one in whose presence he could relax, let his guards down- no one else. You pressed a gentle kiss to his hair, a silent ‘I love you’. “My love?” He murmured and pressed an equally soft kiss to your shoulder. “Hm?” You hummed in response and watched your husband straighten up so he was able to look you in the eyes. He sighed, visibly struggling to find the right words. “I want more children, as many you’d be willing to have. Brothers and sisters for Ilona, so she will never be alone. More time for us to experience holding a newborn babe again. But I fear for our daughter so much, every day. I fear for any future children of ours, even. And I think we’ve lived in fear for long enough. I’ve lived in fear long enough. I thought if we just waited for the king to die, waited for him to live out his pathetic mortal life, we could seize control one day. But I’ve been patient for centuries, and I’m tired of it. I think the time for action has come.” Aleksander’s words caused you to sit up, too, your heartbeat uncontrollably speeding up. “Will you fight with me, my love?” You pensively moved a strand of his hair away from his gorgeous features, then lifted your chin. “Always.” You breathed. The smallest of smiles lit up his face. Your husband leaned up to kiss you, then pulled you into his embrace. “We’ll change the world. For us. For our family.” You squeezed his arm in response. You truly would.

The next few months were spent meticulously planning the beheading of the ravkan eagle. Your mornings were spent in softness, laughing with your daughter, cuddling with her in bed, and then that softness was exchanged for the coldness of daily council meetings. Spies were seeking out the intelligence of the opinions of Grisha on a potential Grisha state, letters were being sent, fighting styles being trained. The king and queen would pose the smallest problems for your cause- they would either cooperate with the second army’s leaving or leave their lives. Angry mobs were your bigger worry- there was a smart way to go about the splitting off of the kingdom, and you were eager to take it, with as few casualties as possible. Then there was the question of your new country’s location. You didn’t need lands the size of Ravka, but you still needed space for houses, training facilities, farmlands. Surprisingly many Grisha were open to leading a simple life of caring for crops and animals, having long tired of the so-called ‘war effort’. Your council meetings grew with each week, more and more Grisha eager to take part in the founding of a home of their own. Fresh faces kept on turning up every week- a Suli Fabrikator here, a Shu Healer there. The once so spacious halls of the Little Palace were beginning to feel cosy, filled with the hope of new alliances forming. It was getting harder by the day to keep your efforts hidden from the king, and the time to strike seemed to be nearing. Ilona seemed to be feeling it, too. Her new favourite pastime was to make friends with as many of the new Grisha as possible. You and Aleksander had both felt apprehensive about it at first, but once you deemed her safe you realized how much power of her own she truly held. She was a symbol. A symbol of you and your husband’s strength, of a new generation of Grisha. A generation that would grow up in safety, without being trained to be used in fights their entire lives. The people in the Little Palace loved her, they had taken to calling her the ‘Grisha princess’. It made you partly proud, partly uncomfortable. You didn’t want her to be an instrument in your fight for freedom, just another weapon to be used, but you couldn’t hide her away, either. She was still small, and young, but she still deserved a life in the light. Late at night, when he was feeling particularly safe and vulnerable, Aleksander sometimes told you stories from his childhood, his youth. How his mother had eternally urged him to stay hidden in the shadows. It wasn’t a way to live, he had once said. And he was right. Ilona deserved her fishpond, her Grisha friends, her chance to openly use her powers. One day, you and your husband already deep into planning your coup, you watched her play with a young Squaller boy. They were both laughing loudly, their happiness more than contagious. You found yourself smiling, heart and body warmed by the afternoon sun. This was what you were fighting for. What you were always going to fight for. Freedom. Only a few weeks later, the time had come. The king was holding a ball, and it was the perfect opportunity for a show of strength. Countless honorary representatives had been invited, the perfect audience for what you were planning to do. You, your husband, and your legion were hoping for a peaceful encounter. The second army was going to show in its full strength, crowd into the ballroom and declare its conditions. You all hoped the sense of unity you had all started to feel would make itself noticeable, pose a threat. The council meetings with your fellow Grisha had long ceased to feel like generals talking to their subordinates. You were equals in your cause, and as the objectively most powerful Grisha, you and your husband were treated with the respect of such. Almost everyone doubtlessly acknowledged you as the heads of your operation, the rulers of Little Palace. The king, of course, was going to be appalled, yes enraged even over your actions. He would spew harmless threats at first, feeling ashamed and belittled for having missed out on developments of such a grand scale right under his eyes. But his power was by far no match for yours. It had come just as you had hoped it would. The king of Ravka had begrudgingly signed your declaration of independence after hours of discussions, angry tantrums and finally quiet pleads. The Grisha would have their own eagle from now on- no shared heads. You would claim lands west of the fold, protected from each side by mountains, the true sea and the world of shadows your husband had created so long ago. The people already living there would have the choice of continuing to stay there, or move somewhere else for a compensation. Grisha from all over the world would be welcome in this sanctuary- you had space and power enough to keep them all safe. Once the coup was over and done with, you sought out a moment alone with your husband. It was a few days after, and both of you had been stuck in nonstop meetings and conversations with fellow Grisha. There was the name of your nation to be decided on, the flag, the layout of your new city. You had been so busy even, that your victory still hadn’t fully registered with you. “Are you alright?” You nervously asked Aleksander in his private office. It was nicely cool and dark there, a welcome change from the Little Palace’s crowded halls. His eyes met yours at that, a smile reflected in them. He looked the healthiest you had ever seen him, a new vigour in the way he moved. Sometimes you forgot that, while you shared the same cause, it already had been his before that for centuries. His years of pain and solitude had finally paid off. “I am not just alright, my love. I’m overcome with joy. Don’t you see it? We’ve changed the world.” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling overcome with emotion and fairly vulnerable. Carefully stepping into his embrace, you took in his scent, sought out his ever so calming touch. Just like he had done in the very early days of your relationship, he wrapped the two of you in comforting darkness. “I’m a bit scared.” You admitted quietly, choked up with tears. “It feels surreal that we’ve won.” Aleksander sighed and pulled you closer to his body. He knew what you meant- he had felt it too. This fear of everything being ripped away as soon as you’d held it in your grasp. “I know.” He murmured and pressed a kiss to your temple. “But it is done. Our declaration has been signed by the king, his ministers. The first army will allow us to leave- or be met with our collected strength. You’ve seen the halls outside, the gardens. I don’t think as many Grisha as this have ever been in one place, in all of history.” You looked up at his face, the beauty of his finely chiselled cheekbones. He was pure strength, safety. As if to remind you of your own power, you filled the room with a golden glow. You were the legendary shadow and sun summoner, the two strongest Grisha who had ever lived- nothing was going to come into your way. You got onto your tiptoes and hugged him tightly, buried your head in his neck. He reached his arms around your waist, and his so familiar certainty flooded your bloodstream. “We’ll have everything.” You murmured, half incredulously. Your husband chuckled at that and playfully squeezed you tight. “I promised that, didn’t I? I think it’s part of my matrimonial duties.” You both laughed, pulling away to look into each other’s eyes. Aleksander caressed the side of your face, nothing but devotion in his gaze. “I know that this new reality is frightening. We have more to lose than ever. But we can carry this fear together. Turn it into something beautiful, something to last for centuries. We’re not alone as long as we have each other.” At that, you leaned up to kiss him lovingly. You both sighed against the other’s lips. It had been ages since the two of you had last had the time to lose yourselves in each other’s embraces. “We’ll have all the time in the world for this, soon.” You realized suddenly, happily. The darkling smiled. “We will. We will my love.”

A few months later, your husband stormed into your chambers. He exuded a wild sort of happiness, his eyes restless. First, he pressed a kiss to Ilona's head, then he picked her up and twirled her around. She shrieked with laughter, and you lowered the book you had been reading while your daughter had played into your lap. Aleksander’s eyes met yours, untamed joy written in his features. “It is finished.” He spoked, and as if struck by lightning, you got up from your seat. Your book clattered to the floor, and the loud sound sent your heart racing. “Is it really?” You quietly asked, eyes wide and incredulous. He nodded reverently, hugging Ilona close to his chest. “The head of the Durasts received the word just this morning. The Fabrikators have finished our city, based on the drawings we’ve both seen. It’s marvellous, according to their reports.” Your hand wandered to your heart, as if to will it to go slower. You breathed heavily, taking a moment to let the realization sink in. You would be safe, on your own terms. Not the king’s. Both you and your husband had been overseeing the construction of your new city from within the Little Palace’s walls, not wanting to leave until it seemed completely safe. For months, assorted groups of Grisha soldiers, healers and most importantly, Durasts, had been crossing the fold to make your shared dream of a Grisha nation come true. The Darkling stepped closer to you, put his arms around both you and your daughter. A giggle escaped your lips. “It’s done.” You breathed; happy tears in your eyes. Aleksander returned your look with equal happiness and leaned forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Ilona giggled, sensing the happiness of her parents. “We can start the moving nothing shorter than this week if you want to. They’ll need your powers for the fold.” Sending smaller groups through the fold was alright. But for the massive move you were planning, you would accompany the myriad of coaches and carts, to keep the Grisha and their belongings safe. “The two of you will be alright here, for a while?” You poked Ilona’s side, and both her and your husband laughed. “We’ll have loads of fun. We’ll have a parade to say goodbye to all the fish, and we’ll tour the Little Palace to pick out all the paintings Ilona wants to take with her.” You grinned happily. They’d truly be alright.

The move was exhausting but fulfilling. You crossed the fold several times a week, accompanied by carts stacked with furniture, livestock and necessary equipment. Once an Alkemi cart almost eradicated a group of Inferni, a sign of how nervous and eager everyone was to escape into a country of their own. Your favourite part was listening in on the other Grisha’s conversations while guiding them through the fold. There was a group of young tidemakers gushing about the prospect of seeing the true sea for the first time and playing with it, two Alkemi discussing how to maximize carrot harvests with the right mixture of sun and Grisha fertilizer. You hadn’t been to the new capital yet, only seen its buildings gleaming in the far-off distance. You wanted it to be a surprise, to set foot in it for the first time with your husband and daughter.

“Enjoying the view one last time?” You asked gently and leaned against the doorframe. Aleksander turned to look at you in surprise, looking a bit lost in the empty room. The time to leave had come, and he had been quietly saying his goodbyes to the Little Palace for the past week. The two of you stood in what had once been his office, now nothing but an empty room with a pretty view. Your husband sighed, something in his expression calling out to you. You walked up to him and allowed him to put his arms around you. “Where’s Ilona?” He asked softly. You smiled. “With the other children. I think they’re playing one last epic round of hide and seek.” That answer seemed to calm him, free his thoughts for other topics. The two of you stared out of the window in silence for a while. Eventually, he sighed. His chin leaned on your shoulder, and you could feel his apprehensiveness. “I’ve wanted to leave this godforsaken place for decades. To never have to see the Grand Palace again. But despite all of that leaving is…” He trailed off, his gaze wandering into the distance. “It’s harder than I expected.” You placed your hands on his arms around you, squeezed them gently. “You’ve built this place. It’s only understandable you find it difficult to leave behind.” He scoffed, and you knew that sound. He made it whenever he was feeling something he hadn’t expected to feel. “This was the first place I’ve ever felt safe in. The first at least relatively safe place for Grisha there’s ever been.” You gulped down a ball of tears. “You should be proud of that.” You whispered. At that, he finally smiled. “You’re right. This is a first draft- a product of the past. We’re moving into the future now.” Grasping one of his hands, you held it up to your lips to press a kiss against it. “Are there any things you still want to take with you? Any last thing you still want to do?” He turned you around in his embrace and pressed your back against the wall right next to the window. A playful glint was in his eyes now, and you were overwhelmed by the sheer happiness he exuded. “I could think of a few things.” He placed a naughty kiss against the side of your neck, and you giggled. “You’re insatiable.” He straightened back up to look at you again and took an impossible step closer to you. “For you? Always.” He breathed, and the time for laughter was over.

The move to your new home took about three days. You wanted to take your time, show Ilona the parts of Ravka she had never seen. But of all things, the Shadow Fold seemed to have awoken her interest the most. While the other children and many adults, too, huddled close for protection, she skipped ahead. Her head was continuously tilted upwards in an attempt to take everything in. “I think she’s sensing your power. It feels familiar to her.” You smiled, taking your husband’s arm. His gaze was fixed to your daughter’s small figure, and his eyes glistened suspiciously. It was only then it dawned upon you- the Fold had been his biggest mistake, his very own monster- an abomination. Seeing his own daughter treat it with so much innocent fascination must have stirred hurt parts of his soul you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Your smile died down into a face of quiet adoration. You took a step back and left Aleksander to have this moment by himself. After centuries, he probably had been starving for one like it. After a few minutes, he turned around, his gaze seeking yours. There weren’t many Grisha around, most of them had moved already, so he allowed himself to keep his guards a bit lower than he usually did in the presence of other people. You sent him an encouraging smile and caught up with him to take his hand. “Do you want to catch up with her? We should probably get back to the coach if we want to make it out of the fold by noon.” He returned your smile, then took off towards your daughter in quick strides. “I’m coming to get you, Ilona!” She put up quite the fight, but in the end, she curled into her father’s arms, still giggling. She had always loved playing catch with him, even when her legs had barely carried her for more than a few steps. You didn’t miss the way Aleksander first glanced at the Fold around him, kept at bay by your powers, and then buried his face in Ilona’s hair. He was cherishing every moment of this. The next day, Nostova’s walls finally appeared on the horizon. The name you had ended up deciding on for your new country meant home, and you already felt a fierce kind of pride for it. “It’s just like the drawings.” You marvelled while finally riding through the gates. The bright Fabrikator made walls gleamed in the afternoon walls, and behind every corner, something new took your breath away. Eventually, you finally arrived at the most important building- your new home. It slightly resembled the Little Palace but looked… homier. There was enough space for administrative offices, meeting rooms, ballrooms for celebrations and a great hall to receive visitors. Emissaries from Ravka or Grisha with petitions, things of that sort. Walking through it, an eternal look of astonishment seemed to take hold of your face. It took you everything not to openly gape at the beautiful furnishings, the symbol of your nation etched into the entrance hall’s stone. An eagle, half shrouded by shadows, half dipped in light. It looked proud, grim, protective. And not like the Ravkan eagle at all. But what you liked most of it all were your new private chambers. There was space enough for at least four more toddlers, a library of your favourite books, a sitting room with a painting of you and your husband. It felt regal and comfortable at the same time. There was a private little staircase from your and Ilona’s bedrooms to the garden, something Aleksander had specifically requested. The Fabrikators had outdone themselves, and you only hoped they would feel the same pride in their work as you felt looking at it. The compensation they had received for their work would allow them more than comfortable lives in Nostova, lives they would hopefully enjoy. Your heart almost bursting with happiness, you watched Ilona and your husband take your new living quarters by storm, your little princess loudly counting down everything she approved of. With an inward sigh, you realized how spoiled she was going to be here. But whenever you talked to Aleksander about that he never seemed to quite understand the problem. ‘Let her be spoiled’, he only always said. Sometimes you forgot just how wrapped around Ilona’s little fingers he was. An odd thought struck you at the sight of your little family. This, Nostova, would be the first time in so long Grisha families would be able to stay together. Children would have their mothers and fathers again, would be allowed to train their powers with them by their side. “You look a little choked up, my love.” Your husband said teasingly, coming to a halt in front of you. His breathing was heavy from all the running around with your girl, and his hair was a mess. The darkling you had first met at the Fold years ago would claw his eyes out at the sight. You grinned at him, completely at ease with your husband seeing your emotions. “I’m just beginning to realize what all of this means. It’s incredible.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, at which Ilona demanded he return to her so they could explore the rest of your rooms. You and your husband shared a laugh, taking a moment to revel in your happiness. “I have a surprise for you later.” He whispered into your ear, and then he was gone, back to playing with your daughter. You had to refrain from fanning your face. Your cheeks felt very hot all of a sudden.

“Where are we going?” You whisper shouted, tightly holding onto your husband’s hand. This definitely wasn’t the kind of surprise you had expected. Aleksander chuckled and just kept dragging you in the direction of Nostova Castle’s main wing. After many halls and double doors, he finally came to a halt in front of a set of gilded doors. He positioned himself between you and them, an impish smile on his face. “I know I told you you’ve already seen most of the castle, but I wanted to keep this as a surprise for you. Show it to you when it’s just us two.” You lifted your eyebrows, your excitement starting to match with his. “What is it?” He bit his lips, seemingly conflicted. “Close your eyes.” He finally commanded. You breathed out a laugh in surprise but complied. “For someone who’s centuries-old, you really do behave childishly sometimes.” Your husband chuckled. “Now, dearest wife. Don’t stab where it hurts. Besides, you have centuries ahead of you yourself.” At that, you smiled. You did. Centuries by your husband’s side, centuries to watch your children grow up in peace and find love themselves. Your husband had already led you into the room behind the golden doors. Your steps echoed loudly, a sign of its probable grandeur. The two of you stopped and you felt Aleksander step behind you. “Would you give us a little light, my sun?” Smiling, eyes still closed, you called upon enough light to dip your surroundings in a light glow. “This…” He started, then sighed. “This is the most important room in the castle. We’ll receive guests here, announce decisions… open your eyes. This is our throne room.” Your eyes snapped open, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips. Just in front of you, on top of a few stairs, two breath-taking chairs overlooked the room. To your feet, a stunning mosaic of a sun in eclipse was let into the floor. One of the chairs was made of part gold, part glass, the glass reflecting your light beautifully and sending it through the room in tiny specks. The other one was made of the darkest wood, silver stars worked into the back- and armrests. But that wasn’t even the most beautiful aspect of them. The chairs stood a few inches apart, but where they were closest to each other they bled into the colour of the other. The golden one’s side was dipped in black, the black one’s side in gold. They were undeniably yours. Still rendered speechless, you climbed the stairs and sat down in the golden chair. It was surprisingly comfortable, and from it, you could oversee the throne room in its entirety. It was beautiful and regal enough to put Ravka’s Palace’s rooms to shame. The Darkling looked at you nervously, awaiting a reaction. You smiled at him and beckoned him to join you. “It’s beautiful.” You said happily, a smile growing across your husband’s face in return. He sat down in his place next to you, and for a moment the two of you just sat there and took in the view. This was your status now. Sovereigns of your very own nation, with thrones to call your own. You got up from your seat, enjoying the Darkling’s eyes on you. You stepped in front of him and slowly curtsied, conjuring your best demure expression. “Moi soverennyi.” You breathed out, looking at him from beneath your lashes. He chuckled, but you didn’t miss the hunger flashing in his eyes. You had decided to stick with his old title and have people address you as such, too. Nostova felt like it had outgrown the concept of Kings and Queens, but you and your husband both still undeniably held the power over the state. Feeling bold in the dark of the night, you sank into your husband’s lap. He was quick to pull you close, put his arms around you. “How improper you are, my lady.” You stifled a laugh. “I had to see if yours is comfortable, too, didn’t I?” He chuckled and littered kisses against your jaw, your cheek, your neck. “I can’t even tell you with how much joy it fills me to see you so happy here. Ilona, too.” Still smiling, you played with fingers. “I am happy.” You confirmed. “Happy we finally have made our place in the world. Made it ours. At the perfect timing, too.” You felt Aleksander start at that, and he turned you in his lap so he could look at your face. “What do you mean?” He looked confused, and a bit scared. Deciding he could stay like that for a moment, you just took him in, smoothed his hair back. He was beautiful. Powerful, dangerous, yours. “Don’t you feel it?” It wouldn’t hurt him to tease him a bit more. Just like he always did when he wanted to feel what you felt he sought out the touch of your skin on his- and shuddered. “Oh my.” He whispered and touched you again as if to make sure. “My love!” His gaze locked with yours, wide with surprise. Then, the most brilliant smile split his sometimes eternal frown. “Is it really-?” You nodded and placed a hand on your belly. “Ilona will have her first sibling soon.” With that, Aleksander started frantically talking. “I must have been so distracted by all the planning that I haven’t even noticed it, I can’t believe it! Our second child! For how long! We must make preparations at once, call a Healer-” Tears of joy in your eyes, you shut him up with a kiss on the lips. “I’ve already talked to Asa, the same healer as last time. He figures I’m about four moons along. So there’s still plenty of time for us to prepare.” Aleksander just looked at you completely starstruck for a moment. “I love you.” He finally murmured. You smiled, placing your hand on top of his on your belly. “I love you more.”

Soon after, your first son would be born. Your lovely little boy, named Kiran. Ilona was completely smitten with him, just like you and your husband. After him, four more children followed. Some were sun summoners like you, some shadow summoners like your beloved husband, some both, like Ilona. But all of them would gain legendary status throughout the centuries. They would travel the world, help settle conflicts between the neighbouring countries that rose and fell as if in the blink of an eye. Nostova, on the contrary, remained eternal. Like you and your husband. Its peace had allowed Grisha to grow stronger than ever, and your nation now counted many thousand people as its citizens. Sometimes, your children would visit you in your capital. Some of them had settled down there, too, like Ilona. She had married a heartrender, and their children came to play with you and your husband on Sundays. Your life had become gentle, and kind. You could see it in your husband’s face, too, every day. Only the boldest of kings and queens dared threaten your home, and it barely happened for any of them to follow through with their threats. Neither you nor your husband had any regular fighting or defending to do. You had been allowed to devote yourselves to ruling justly and fair, raise a healthy nation. In the mornings, you stood by your bedroom’s window and watched young Grisha train the use of their powers. In the evenings, you fell asleep side by side, still giggling about the day’s happenings just like when you had both been young and restless. Grisha from all over the world had found peace. And so had you.

[dropintomanga]

RuriDragon - Smashing Down Weird Walls

“Lookitthat. A real high school girl.”

High school is a trying time for many adolescents. While cliques and gossip are things in elementary and junior high school, they become super relevant in high school and more youth start to pay attention to various social cues around them. It’s one of the initial steps into the “real outside world.” Masaoki Shindo’s RuriDragon is a comedic take on high school life for an introverted girl with a very noticeable trait. It does provide some subtle commentary for youth who struggle to fit in or find friends.

The story is about a young girl named Ruri Aoki, who suddenly wakes up with dragon horns on her head. Her mother casually explains to Ruri that she’s half-human and half-dragon. Ruri does cause some attention and breathes fire onto a fellow student by accident. She becomes scared to go to school, but her mother and her classmates all try to encourage her to interact with people despite being a hybrid.

I think this series is a nice change of pace from the regular Shonen Jump titles. This is mostly because of Ruri’s perception of how other people would view her. It’s something that’s very human. We’re all afraid of how other people perceive us. We greatly underestimate how much other people like us. Even if you’re not in high school anymore, we somewhat judge ourselves harshly - re: relationships.

Ruri, like many of us, experiences a “liking gap.” In psychology terms, this means that we really under-value how our friends/partners feel about us. The more shy you were, the more you would feel that you seem awful to them. Another thing is that if we get too wrapped up in our heads about our likability, the more we don’t notice subtle signs from the other person that they don’t mind talking to us. There’s been many studies that explored the “liking gap” and how to shorten it. 

A big key that researchers note is conversation. It’s been noted that communicating with strangers can lead to benefits and may be just as rewarding as talking to friends. But we get so caught up with how to come across to someone and often, we shy away. Sometimes, there’s a good reason to, but I think people would welcome it as long as you’re respectful.

Ruri thinks about her own views of other people after realizing that her school doesn’t mind her being a half-dragon. She almost was willing to become a shut-in after her dragon traits hurt someone. After hanging out with new friends at a Starbucks and having proper conversations with them in Chapter 4, Ruri thinks to herself.

“They’re all so decent. Which I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t put myself out there.”

It helps that Ruri’s mother is an absolute saint who’s willing to get her daughter out there to make relationships. She doesn’t see Ruri as a tragic figure or some weapon waiting to be taken advantage of; she just empowers her any way she can. It’s nice parenting.

We definitely put up walls to protect us from emotional vulnerability. But sometimes, our brain does play tricks on us. They’re usually concerned with our safety to a detriment. Of course, there are people who judge harshly. And will tell you there’s people who are willing to become friendly rather than become enemies. What RuriDragon does say (this is nicely told in Chapter 4 by one of Ruri’s new friends, Kashiro, and also Ruri’s teacher in Chapter 3) is that we’re all stuck in uncertain circumstances despite our differences, so why not make the most of them and get along as best as possible because in the end, we may be all we got. 

And I think that message is a flame worth harnessing that melts down cold walls for a warmth we all could use.

Note: Unfortunately, the series is on indefinite hiatus as of Chapter 6. I still highly suggest to give RuriDragon a read because it feels more like a manga from a non-Jump magazine. I hope Shindo-sensei recovers and/or prioritizes their health because while this manga is great, I would not blame them if they quit They shouldn’t blame themselves for it. I already like Shindo-sensei for trying.

[ijustwant2write]

Father Knows Best-Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader

(GIF credit to @devileyedbanana​)

Masterlist

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @jenepleurepasbaby​ @amirahiddleston​ @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff​ @mzcrazy2​

Requested by anonymous: ‘Can I request a Tommy x daughter angst one shot where she falls in love with a rival gangster and Tommy asks her to choose, and she chooses her love but then he turns out to be violent and Tommy comes and saves her.’

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader, Finn Shelby x Shelby!Reader (Uncle)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Alcohol, being drunk, swearing, mentions of a sexual nature, family arguments, domestic abuse, weaponry, fluff

(A/N: Matthew is a made up character, AND THIS IS MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED)

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I covered my mouth as I giggled uncontrollably, Matthew was shushing me despite chuckling himself. We held onto each other as we stumbled out of the club, our feet aching from all the dancing we had done, struggling to walk in a straight line due to the drinks. As we stood up straight, swaying slightly from the alcohol, Matthew took me in his arms, kissing me sloppily. Neither of us were anywhere near sober. 

“You’re so beautiful.” he breathed out, going in for another kiss.

I smiled into it, gripping onto his coat for support.“Tonight was amazing. I don’t want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

I groaned.“It does though. You know I’m already past my curfew.”

“Your dad should be happy that you’re out making friends.”

“You don’t know anything about my dad then.”

We hesitated to start the walk home, though both knew that Matthew wouldn’t receive the best welcome if he got me back any later. I was in trouble now anyway, but I didn’t care what any of my family thought. Time flew by too quickly when I was with Matthew, it was as if we never had enough of each other. And I wasn’t stupid, my father definitely knew about us. As leader of the Peaky Blinders, he had eyes everywhere, and if he wanted his men to follow me, they would. I had spotted several of them just tonight, but I didn’t care.

Seeing as these men would be reporting back to my dad as soon as the night was over, I didn’t want to wake up to a lecture from him. Instead, I decided to head to my uncle’s house. Finn had given me an extra key, just in case, and we were extremely close in age, he understood what I was going through; he also wasn’t allowed to do anything dangerous, let alone be involved in any plans, even tough he tried. 

“You sure your uncle won’t let me in? You can try to be quiet.” Matthew whispered as I stood outside of Finn’s house. 

I scoffed at him.“I can be quiet!”

“Well I have yet to experience that.”

“He won’t let you in. I’m sorry Matthew.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll see you in the next few days?”

“Of course you will.”

We slowly kissed, hands still wrapped around each other. It was always so difficult to let him go. This time, Matthew was the one to pull away, gently kissing me on the forehead before leaving. I watched him leave until I couldn’t see him before unlocking the door. Although I had been incredibly quiet, I heard a thud, someone (my uncle) was fumbling around, thinking an intruder was here. He had a gun in his hands as he whipped open his bedroom door. The panic in his face was replaced with annoyance.

“For fucks sake (Y/N), what do you think you’re doing?” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Um, coming in from a great night out?” I said, chuckling to myself as I walked into a chair.

“Oh good, you’re drunk. Why didn’t you get the driver to take you back to your house?”

“Because I don’t want to deal with dad. You know he’s awake too, he would shout at me as soon as I stepped foot in the door.”

Finn rolled his eyes.“You were with that prick weren’t you?”

“His name is Matthew and he’s not a prick. He’s my boyfriend. And I know that dad knows about him.”

“You should really stay away from him. He doesn’t come from a good family. We’re in the same circles (Y/N), people tell me things.”

I groaned.“Urgh, I didn’t come here to get told off by someone who is literally two years older than me. I’m going to bed. Feel free to call my dad, tell him I’m fine and that I had a good time, cause I know he won’t ask that.”

“What do you mean?”

“As soon as you call, or he calls you, the first question will be, ‘who was she with?’. Yeah, my dad really cares for me.”

Even though I slept late into the afternoon, I still didn’t feel rested. My head was pounding, I felt as if I would be sick every time I moved, and my feet throbbed, so all in all, signs of a great night out. As I shuffled into the kitchen, Finn was sat at the table, arms crossed and staring at me. Oh no, he was not going to act like a saint right now.

“I’m not dealing with you right now Finn.” I said as I poured myself a cup of tea.

“Tommy’s coming to get you in an hour. Make sure you’re ready.”

I mockingly saluted him.“Yes sir!”

“Come off it (Y/N). I don’t get why you act like this. Sometimes you’re really sweet, other times you’re...”

“Go on, get it out of your system.”

“You can be a bitch.”

“Look, I understand what you’re saying.” I sat down across from him.“But dad really hasn’t paid much attention to me recently. He doesn’t even greet me when I come down for breakfast. I know he’s got a lot on his plate, and it’s a big plate, but lately he’s been really harsh on me.”

“It’s because of Matthew.”

“He’s going to have to drop that soon. I get that I’m his only daughter so he’s overprotective, and because I’m a Shelby, but he doesn’t have to worry.”

“That’s the thing (Y/N). This Matthew has made him worry even more.”

“Why? Because it’s my first serious boyfriend?”

“No because...look, what I tell you now, you can’t say a word of it to anyone else, do you understand?”

“Finn-”

“Do you understand?”

I hesitated, but nodded, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Matthew is....he’s part of a rival gang.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.“I get you don’t want me to date him, but that’s ridiculous.”

“(Y/N), I’m being deadly serious.”

“No he’s not. I’ve met his family, they’re sweethearts.”

“Because they want you to trust them.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not trying to piss you off, or make up something so you break up with him. He’s dangerous (Y/N), it’s all one big trap. They get Thomas Shelby’s daughter and they can bargain for anything.”

“Wouldn’t it be less hassle to just kidnap me? What if I didn’t fall for Matthew, what would they do then?”

“That’s not the point-”

“No, there is no point to this, at all Finn.”

“(Y/N), please, I’m trying to look out for you.”

“I’m going to get ready. I need to look decent for dad.”

Part of a rival gang? Pathetic. It wasn't even an interesting story. Yes, Matthew was a little wild, he brought out the party girl in me, but I was having fun! As long as he wasn't harming me, nor were we harming anyone else in the process, I saw no flaws with our relationship. We also had our downtime moments, times where we could lie down in each others arms, hint at our futures. Apparently not everyone could see that.

There was a knock at the door, and I sighed to myself, knowing my time of hiding was over. Luckily dressed, looking pretty decent after the night before, I took time walking out of the spare room, hearing some mumbling before I even saw my dad. Although he never showed much emotion anyway, I could tell he wasn't happy, staring me down as I approached him in last night's clothes.

"Morning dad." I greeted him kindly, hoping we would have this conversation away from Finn.

Dad looked at Finn in disbelief, then back to me."Morning? Fucking good morning?"

"Dad-"

"Get in the car."

I obeyed his order but not before saying goodbye to Finn."Thanks for letting me stay."

He just nodded to me, awkwardly waiting by the door as I followed dad outside. I kept up with his usual long strides, bracing myself for what could end up as a screaming match. Thinking about it, I never argued much with dad, but when we did, it was over serious topics, never anything petty. I loved him dearly, he always looked out for me, gave me anything I wanted, ensured that I had a good life he never had growing up. So the guilt growing inside of me was huge, but my stubbornness was strong. I was an adult now, I was allowed to make these decisions.

Surprisingly, there was no driver for us. I slipped into the passenger seat, both of us remaining silent as dad started the drive. I watched the streets of Small Heath pass by, the regulars of the city slowly making their way to work, dirty from the shift the day before, probably drunk to keep themselves warm. It was a sad, poor place sometimes.

"Are we going to talk?" I mumbled, putting my focus on him.

He sighed loudly through his nose."Are you going to listen?"

"Please can we not be malicious about this?"

"Why didn't you just come home last night? Any bar would have let you use a phone, they know who you are."

"Because I didn't want the hassle. And I stayed at Finn's, so I don't understand why you're so angry?"

"You were with that boy."

"Dad, when will you just accept that I'm twenty one and I'm allowed to see people?"

"It's not that. If you had found someone who wasn't trouble-"

"Matthew isn't trouble."

"You don't know everything (Y/N)."

"Oh, don't tell me, he's part of rival gang, right?"

Dad's eyes widened as his head snapped towards me, his gaze flickering between me and the road."You what?"

"Finn told me."

Dad groaned, putting all of his concentration back on the road."Told him to keep his mouth shut. Neither of you seem to be able to follow orders."

I rolled my eyes.

"I saw that."

"Look, I'm sorry for not at least calling last night, I know that was wrong." Dad was silent.

"But I really like Matthew. I don't want you to scare him away, or make up ridiculous stories about him."

"Stories eh? That's what you think they are?"

"I know they are."

Suddenly, dad put his foot down, making us go faster than I liked. He ignored my pleas for him to go slower, somehow not swerving off of the country roads that lead to our house. He was driving at this speed for far too long, skidding on the gravel as we braked in front of the house. Dad hastily got out of the car, whereas I needed a second to get my breath back. He was already walking through the front door by the time I was shakily getting out of the car, stumbling in my heels across the gravel.

I called after him but he wouldn't listen. Storming towards his office, he flung open the doors, not even flinching when they whacked into the walls. Quickly following, I watched his manic actions, shuffling through paper work and slapping down files onto the desk.

"There's your story." he said, pointing at them.

Hesitantly I walked towards him, scanning my eyes over his evidence. There were pictures, reports, files containing personal information. I focused more on the parts about Matthew, reading things such as where he was born, where he had lived, the schools he attended....and none of them matched with what he had told me. There was a portrait picture of him, I didn't know where dad got it from, and another photo slipped out from under it as I picked it up. Only this time, it was a mugshot.

"So, do you still think we're lying?" dad said.

"I...I..." I was speechless.

"You know that everything I do, I do for you. You're my daughter, it's my job to protect you. You need to stay away from that man."

"Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Did you really just ask that?"

"We've talked about everything. He didn't even hint at it." I was talking to myself at this point."I met his family. Why would they go through all of that? Host that dinner, make me welcome, say such nice things?"

"I didn't take you to be stupid (Y/N)."

"I know what it sounds like. But dad, Matthew wouldn't lie to me-"

"HE'S USING YOU!" he screamed at me."You're a fucking Shelby, you're the daughter of Thomas Shelby, you have a huge target on your head! It's an easy way to get to me, and to find out secrets about us!"

My mouth dropped open in shock."I would never tell him anything they he wasn't supposed to know!"

"Wouldn't you? He seems to have a hold on you, and it's scaring me. I've never seen you like this."

"That 'hold' you're on about is called love! Not that you would know anything about that, seeing as my mother was a whore!"

"Don't you dare speak to me like that!"

"It wouldn't be a surprise would it, if I ended up with a fucked up relationship? Because I had oh such a great example from you. Fucks a random woman, she knows who he is, so she dumps the baby on him, hoping he won't give her away to an orphanage."

"Stop changing the conversation. We are talking about how we get you away Matthew."

“You’re not going to.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’ve been with him for months, why is this now just coming out? How long have you known about this?”

He didn’t have to say anything but I still got my answer.

“Ah.” I scoffed a laugh.“You have known about this. And for some reason, you have’t decided to mention this.”

“It was for-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Dad, I am going to speak to Matthew about this.”

“You will not go near him.”

“Yes I will. I’m going to get the truth, right now.”

My words escaped me before I could really think about them. I was already walking away from him, back out to the front door. Opening a cabinet, I searched through the keys for any car, any vehicle that would get me far away from here.

“I’m having someone follow you.” dad informed me.

“I know.”

“You’re stepping into enemy territory.”

“We’re not in the war anymore dad. And you’re not a soldier.”

I finally found the right key, heading towards the only car I had ever driven. Making my way to the garage, I ignored my dad, not even looking at him. I definitely felt guilty for what I had said, and what I was about to do. But I needed to do this myself, I needed to speak to Matthew without the pressure of anyone else.

I was not a good driver. Everyone was safe whilst I was driving, I just wasn’t very fast or great with spacial awareness. In my head, I had expected to be racing to Matthew’s, getting to his in record time. This had ruined my fantasy. Once I did reach his house, I slowly lined up the car with the path, wincing when I bumped into the curb; thank god no one was around to see that. 

“(Y/N)?” I heard Matthew call me as I got out of the car. He was approaching me down the pathway of his house.

“Matthew, I need to speak with you, urgently.” I rushed out, pushing him back towards his home.

“Woah, wait, wait. What’s happened? Why are you in last nights clothes?”

“Just get inside.”

By looking at his house, you could tell he was well off. It was in a nicer neighbourhood, it was separate from the other houses and had multiple rooms. I asked him if anyone else was home, and when he said no, I was relieved. We didn’t want them getting involved, and I felt like shouting if this went wrong. 

“You’re worrying me (Y/N).” Matthew said.

“Oh, are you worried about me?” I sarcastically said.

“(Y/N), can you just tell me what’s going on?!”

“Are you part of a rival gang against the Peaky Blinders?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What makes you say something like that?”

“My family told me.”

“What makes them think that?”

“Matthew, I’ve seen the evidence. I didn’t admit it to my dad, but I believed him. I’ve seen your real information. You’ve lied to me about a lot of things. And why do you have a fucking mugshot?”

He exhaled through his nose, looking away from me for a few seconds.“I can’t lie anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have in the first place!”

He held up his hands in defence.“Alright, alright, let’s just use our inside voices. I’ll explain everything to you.”

Matthew directed me to his front room, sitting beside me, and although I initially wanted to shuffle away from him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it; especially when he took my hands in his, resting them on his lap. He wasn’t afraid to look me in the eyes, perhaps a sign of him about to tell the truth.

“(Y/N), your family is right. I am part of a company that rivals yours-”

I tried pulling my hands away, but he gripped onto me tightly.

“-but we would never cause any harm. We are only rivals in business. There is no bloodshed, no injuries, no deaths. The only thing we fight over are numbers.”

“That still doesn’t explain everything.”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you already knew who I was. You know how it feels to have everyone already judge you based on a name.”

“Don’t use that against me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to connect with you on this. The mugshot is from a brawl we had with a couple of ex-employees, they wanted to expose us with lies. Unfortunately we were typical men, and apparently that was the only way we thought to solve it. The police were called and I spent a night in a cell, but I was released the next morning.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“You promise?” 

“I promise. And my family have not been plotting anything like your father thinks they have. Of course, they had an idea when I told them about you, you know, to ‘unite’ our families to stop the feud. Obviously that was ridiculous because fights don’t just end like that. But when I brought you to them, it was because I was proud of you, I wanted to show them the amazing woman I had found and fell in love with.”

“Love?”

“Yes. I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Matthew. I’m sorry for attacking you with all these questions. But even if I tried to convince my dad that he was wrong, he wouldn’t believe me. I’m scared he’s going to try and separate us.”

“Then live with me!”

“What? No I couldn’t do that to you-”

“Of course you can! You’ve seen this house, there’s plenty of room, my family loves you, it would be perfect! And...” he leaned in closer to me, whispering in my ear,“they’re hardly here, so we would have a lot of alone time.”

Although my heart jumped at the thought of living with Matthew, being able to see him everyday, spending every moment with him, I also dreaded telling my dad. I was old enough to make my own decision though. I could move in with Matthew if I wanted, what was stopping me? I believed everything he said, he had an explanation for everything. If Matthew was in a rival gang, using me for their own purpose, wouldn’t he just threaten me or kidnap me when I confronted him? It all seemed like too much effort.

All of that information dad accumulated must have been biased, especially if our families were rival companies. Although I was leaning more towards staying with Matthew, I didn’t want to lose my dad. I would have to be an idiot to believe that he would let me leave home with a man he didn’t like, but on the other hand, I was at the age where I could do what I wanted. Just because I had the last name Shelby didn’t mean I was going to be trapped by it.

There had been a lot of back and forth that day, both emotionally and physically. But here I was once again arguing with my dad. Stupidly, I had let Matthew come along (he was very persuasive), though he stayed in the car. Set on convincing him to let me leave with Matthew, we shouted at each other, screaming our opinions. He didn’t believe a word I said. Tears streamed down my face as I grew more frustrated, pleading him to listen, to give Matthew another chance.  

“I don’t know why I’m bothering to ask! I could have left without asking, without even telling you. But I did it out of respect for you.” I suddenly exclaimed.

Dad stopped shouting for a moment, heavily breathing.“Fine. Go then. If you’re so grown up, pack your bags and move onto the next part of your life. I just hope for your sake that I’m wrong.”

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I had never felt such conflict in my heart before. The first month of moving away was extremely hard, I cried most nights in Matthew’s arms. I had loathed every moment of collecting my belongings from dad’s house, saying goodbye to my family because I wouldn’t be seeing them as much as I was used to. They thought the same as dad, all had tried to convince me to stay. But Matthew was always by my side, reassuring me that we could start our own life now, not forgetting our old ones of course, but creating a new one. 

And oh, how quickly things changed.

Three months, three months of pure bliss. I was living with my boyfriend, having the joy of seeing him everyday when he came home from work, eating meals with him, sleeping beside him, not having to arrange weeks in advance when to next see each other. Matthew had even started talking more about our future, hinting at marriage, finding our own home to live in. It excited me. I was growing up, doing all the things a person should do. Perhaps this would show dad that I was happy, that he was wrong about those rumours, and I could finally see him again. I missed him so much.

It was like binding a contract with the devil. Once that engagement ring was slipped on my finger, my whole world was flipped. Matthew started staying out late. I knew he wasn’t going out drinking, he didn’t smell of alcohol when he returned, neither could he be cheating because I never caught a whiff of perfume, or found a hair on his jacket, or even see him come home disgruntled; he was just as immaculate as he had been leaving. Sometimes him, his father, his brother and uncle would come home, immediately gathering in the front room and slamming the door shut. They would be in there for hours, deep in conversation. And that scared me, because it reminded me of my family whenever they were scheming.  

“Matthew?” I had mumbled late one night, disturbed from my sleep when he opened the bedroom door.

“Go to sleep.” it was an order, no note of sympathy in his voice.

I watched him undress.“Are you alright? I heard you arguing downstairs.” 

“What did I just say?” I had never seen someones head snap around so quickly.

“I’m sorry,” I didn’t know why I was apologising,“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t upset.”

“I am now.”

“Why?”

“Because of you! Asking me all these questions! I thought you were smart.” he made a show of collapsing into a chair, starting to untie his shoelaces.

I sat up.“Matthew, there’s obviously something wrong. You know you can tell me-”

He suddenly threw his shoe against the floor, but for a split second I thought it was aimed at me.“Just go to sleep (Y/N)!”

I was scared to move, thinking I would somehow do something else wrong. But when he continued to stare at me, I slowly slipped back under the covers, clinging them close to me, trying to steady my breathing to hide how much I wanted to cry. I listened to Matthew get ready for bed, the silence making me more nervous. He climbed into bed, shuffling towards me. I flinched as he wrapped an arm around me, his body pressed up against the back of mine. Who was this person? What made him act like this?

“I’m sorry darling.” he whispered in my ear.

But I didn’t feel comforted by that, or feel like I should give him forgiveness. And I realised it wouldn’t have even mattered if I did, because it kept on happening.

Smaller things started to annoy him. I would simply ask him what he was doing with his day, and receive an eye roll. He would question why I was wearing a specific outfit, who was I wearing it for? His family would try to interrogate every detail about me, and it was suspicious from the beginning. I wasn’t receiving questions such as ‘How many siblings do you have?’, ‘Do your family get on well?’, ‘Where do they live?’; I wondered if it was because everyone knew about the Peaky Blinders, but it was getting too personal. I had been an idiot to become trapped by this man, however, I wasn’t going to let them use me against my family.

Some days I didn’t know how much I could take of Matthew. I was walking on egg shells around him. I quickly learnt what not to say or ask, how the tone of my voice should be, how I should look. It didn’t matter how many times he was sweet to me, apologised, bought me presents, I didn’t recognise the man I had wanted to marry. His hand held mine tighter, his grip on my waist hurt, and our intimate moments together...everything hurt me, and he didn’t care.

“Writing a letter to a friend?” Matthew startled me from the doorway of our room.

My head whipped around to see him standing there, casually leaning against the door frame.“Yes.” I quickly replied.“Well, it’s for my aunt, Ada.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m asking how Karl is. He’s growing up so fast.”

“Mention anything about me?” 

“Of course.”

“Can I read it?”

I handed him the letter, hiding my nerves. He read through it, no expression at first until he looked at me, smirking to himself. That wasn’t a good sign.

“(Y/N), my father was in the war. He’s told me about how they got secret messages out of the trenches.” he smugly said, walking towards a set of drawers and opening the top one. He pulled out a pile of letters, the envelopes opened, and the handwriting was mine.“Being Thomas Shelby’s daughter, I had expected more from you.”

“You’ve lied to me this whole time.” I shuddered at the thought of him reading my letters, begging for someone to help me escape.

“No, I haven’t.”

“You said you were only rivals in business!”I leapt up from my chair.“I fought my family to be with you! I am such a fucking idiot!”

“Isn’t that what we are? A business at the end of the day? Look, you’re here now. We’re happy. I can make us happier once we receive our upcoming bonus.”

“What bonus?”

“The bonus of having the Shelby Company all to ourselves.”

My eyes widened, screeching out as I lunged for him. I landed a good punch to his face, but due to his size and strength, he managed to grab my attacking arms. 

“Stop now (Y/N), before you get hurt.”

That was a threat from him, not a concern I may harm myself. But for once I didn’t care. They were going after my family, I would take all the beatings for them. 

“You’re a fucking liar! A cruel, terrible, waste of space!” I screamed, pulling myself away from him.“I vowed to never become one of those poor women who had to live this life. You were in my head, and I’ll admit it, you were convincing, but I know who you really are. You’re all a bunch of sad men who feel that they need to murder, threaten and mock anyone in order to make them feel better. You’ll never be as powerful as my dad, it  just won’t happen.”

“You’ve grown naive. I did like you (Y/N), once I got a good look at you, I wasn’t angry about the plan of marrying you anymore. And I’ll admit, you’re an interesting woman, easy on the eye which helps. And how loyal you were, standing beside me in everything. Don’t be upset (Y/N), we don’t want any blood on our hands, as long as your family are cooperative. And think, you will be in charge with me once they’re gone.”

“Gone? What do you think you’re going to do with my family?!”

“Nothing. We have a meeting tomorrow, you’ll be coming, and you will convince them to hand it all over to us.”

“I won’t.”

“That wasn’t a request.” he opened one side of his blazer jacket, revealing his gun.

“I would rather die than go against them.”

“You’ve done that already. And I would rather keep your brains inside your head.”

The next morning felt colder, more bitter than it usually did here; there was even a low fog creating a tense atmosphere. Although I didn’t want to comply with Matthew, I knew I had to go to this meeting if I wanted a chance of seeing my family and keeping them alive. Running on adrenaline and anxiety alone, I forced myself to get out of bed, having to get changed under the watch of the man I thought I knew. As I did my hair in the mirror, I had a sudden realisation that I wasn’t me anymore. I looked older, years older even, even though I had only been engaged to this monster for a few months. My skin felt...unusual, not right, it didn’t feel clean. The bags under my eyes seemed to droop more and more every day, as if they were dragging down my eyes with them, and my lips were missing the feeling of a genuine smile. 

Matthew kept a hand on my back as we walked downstairs, his family waiting for us. I wasn’t scared to glare at them. They weren’t going to kill me, not yet anyway. I still had some time to live, and I was going to despise them every second. They talked as if I wasn’t there, checking their weapons and the plan. Matthew had managed to confiscate my gun, I was left with my fists.

I was in the middle of the group as we made our way to the meeting point. I knew the area now, we were headed to the back of a factory. There was a lot of noise from the machines, no one would be walking around because they would be working, and Matthew’s family had a very good deal going on with the owner; they pay him large amounts of money to keep quiet, he takes that on top of his rich salary already and keeps quiet. 

As we rounded the corner, my heart dropped when I saw just my dad standing there. Out of instinct, I started to hastily move towards him until Matthew grabbed me, gripping onto my arms to keep me in place. I felt like a little girl again, scared and needing her dad to come save her. Although dad was expressionless most of the time, I was worried that he thought I was neglecting them all these months, when really, Matthew had stopped any contact between us.

“Mr Thomas Shelby, when I said about meeting, I didn’t think it would be just yourself.” Matthew’s dad started.“But that’s fine, you’re the only one we want to speak with anyway.”

“A business meeting outside, eh?” dad said.“Why do I think this is heading in another direction?”

“Let’s just get to the point, yes? You know what we want, we’re not going to stop till we get it.”

“Of course.” dad didn’t seem bothered.

“And we’re serious. But don’t worry, there will still be a Shelby within the business once you pass it over.”

Matthew urged me forward, staying very close behind.“Dad, I’ve been trying to contact you but they wouldn’t let me! I-”

“Shut up. That’s not important.” Matthew snapped at me. 

“Don’t talk to her that way.” dad lowly said, and I recognised the warning in his voice.

Matthew wasn’t bothered.“She does as she’s told.”

“I fucking don’t!” 

I stamped on his foot with my heel, quickly getting out of his grip and turning around, managing to knee him in the head as he doubled over. Another gang member pulled me away, and I didn’t know whether he was ordered to or not, but he held a gun to my temple, his arm in a choke hold around my neck. I had tried, but it was too risky to do anything when my dad and I were clearly outnumbered. 

Despite that, dad pulled out his own gun, aiming it at the man.“Let her go.”

Matthew’s dad laughed.“I know you’ll have some of your people hiding around here somewhere. But you’ve seen the weapons we carry today, and how many of us there are. You are under prepared.”

 Dad was still for a moment, suddenly whistling. I saw the men around me tense, wondering what my dad could be summoning. As expected, more men started to appear around my dad, a much larger group, some even rounding around the back so that we were surrounded. They all held weapons of some sort; guns, knives, knuckle dusters, anything of the sort. Matthew’s dad tried to not look effected, though you could tell he was shitting himself. 

“What were you saying about no bloodshed?" I smugly said to Matthew.

He frowned at me, taking me out of the man's arms and throwing me to the floor. He got out his own gun, once again placing it on my temple.

"I don't want to shoot her. But I will if you don't go through with our deal." he stated.

My hands were scraped, blood already trickling onto the ground. But I didn't moan, I didn't complain, worried that one slight move would set him off and he would shoot.

"You will put down your weapons, give me back my daughter, turn around, and walk away." dad said."We don't want to start a war between us. Look at my men, now look at yours. You will lose, and you will lose your lives along with it."

"How dare you threaten us-"

Matthew's dad interrupted."Shut up Matthew! This doesn’t mean you’ve won Shelby.”

Dad didn’t reply, lowering his gun but the others kept their weapons on display. Matthew’s dad was waiting for a reply, and when he didn’t get one, he sharply turned away. Matthew was shocked, glancing between me and him as he wondered what to do. Although I was desperate to run to dad, I slowly made a move to stand. Matthew kept his eyes glued on me. I slid off my beautiful engagement ring, now despising it, holding it up in front of his face, and letting it drop to the ground.

“In case you were wondering, the wedding is off.” I spat, instantly turning on my heel.

My body broke out into a sprint, throwing my arms around my dad’s neck as I burst into tears. My legs went weak as he clung onto me, reassuring me that I was safe now, I wouldn’t be hurt any longer. How could I have done such a thing? I turned my back on my family for a man I should have known more about. I had to face it, I was a Shelby, and it was going to be difficult to find someone who wanted me for me, not my name.

“I’m so sorry dad!” I sobbed.“Please forgive me! I don’t want to be hated by you forever. I need you. I love you!”

He calmly shushed me, as if I was a baby again.“It’s alright, it’s alright (Y/N). I’ve got you now. You’re my daughter, I would never hate you.”

“I’m sorry! I won’t ever leave you again.”

“Come on, let’s go home, eh?”

“Please.”

“You’re my family, you always will be. I’m always going to protect you (Y/N), always.”

[nightfoot]

So I’m not a historian, but I just finished posting my medieval AU fanfic that included a medieval trans character, so I thought I’d ramble a bit about some of the research I did prior to writing it.  There’s this idea that Western society believed in an absolute binary of men and women until Stonewall happened and introduced Western cis people to the concept of gender not being rigidly set in stone, but that’s just not the case.  So here’s a brief overview of some specific cases I found along the lines of “Medieval and early modern people were thinking about gender too.”

The first is the one I think about most often.  This is actually a little bit after the medieval period, in the 16th century, but still interesting.  There was a person in the little town of Vitry-le-Fran ois who lived as a man. He was married to a woman and worked as a weaver.  Tragically, his marriage lasted only 5 months before someone recognized him as “[birth name]” and he was tried and condemned (for the crime of using a dildo).  But, he was given the option to go back to wearing skirts and live as a respectable woman.  He rejected the offer, and chose to be hanged rather than live as a woman.

I just think about him a lot, and how much I wish he could come to the 21st century and see how the world has changed.  He is also the person I always think about when I see the claim that all trans men in history were just “women trying to live with more freedom.”  Because if it was only about trying to live a better life, then choosing any life at all would be better than death. 

The second story involves another person from France in 1601.  Thankfully, his chosen name was recorded - Marin began sleeping with a woman while they were both working as chambermaids in Rouen, but after a few weeks, he told her he was in fact a man, and proposed marriage.  Before their marriage, though, Marin was accused of sodomy for being a “woman” trying to marry another women.  However, he plead his case and asked for a medical examination, and after a genital exam, the doctor declared Marin had “a hidden but functional penis.”  I read this as him being intersex.  The court demanded he dress as a woman for 4 years in hope that the situation would clear up, but after those 4 years passed, he was allowed to go back to presenting as male, married his wife, and lived the rest of his life as a man.

This story is interesting because it demonstrated that people in 1601 were ready to accept “huh! sex and gender are complicated! I guess it is possible for someone to change from one thing to another!”

And the reason they accepted this is because of the “one sex model,” the idea that male and female are just two ends of a spectrum and all humans fall somewhere on that spectrum with the potential to shift position.  This model is not exactly correct, because they also believed that it had to do with body temperature and that if a woman’s body temperature raised too much she would spontaneously grow a penis, but it is very interesting that 400 years ago, academics realized that sex is much more complicated than “you’re either A or B” but in our enlightened 21st century, we have to argue about that again.

Cross-dressing saints are also common in hagiography.  One example is Joseph von Schönau, a celebrated monk who joined the abbey of Schönau in 1187 after a life of travel in Europe and the Middle East.  What’s interesting is that during his deathbed confession, when he came clean to the priest about all his other secrets and sins in life, he said nothing about his sex.

There is another story I recall that, for the life of me, I can’t find the source for now.  In that one, a saint lives his entire life in an abbey as a man. During his life, a local woman accused him of fathering her child.  He could have easily disproved the accusation by explaining that he didn’t have a penis, but instead accepted the child as his and accepted the shame and disdain from his fellow monks.  They only realized he couldn’t have been the father after his death. 

My next two stories are fictional:

The first is the 13th century French story Roman de Silence.  This is the story of a woman whose father needed a son to inherit, so when she was born, he decided to raise her as a boy.  Throughout the story, personifications of “Nature” and “Nurture” argue over which of them determines who a person is.  Throughout the story, Silence becomes a knight, captures Merlin in a prophecy twist (of the “no man can defeat Merlin” sort), reveals her sex in the end and marries a king.  I actually think it’s more interesting to read Silence as a trans woman, despite being what we today would “assign female.”  She was assigned male by her father, and grows up feeling conflicted about this.

Silence isn’t an example of a real life trans masc knight, but the story overall is exploring the question, “What exactly is it that makes someone a man vs a woman?”  This says to me that Medieval People Were Thinking About This Too, and the idea that man and woman could be more complicated than looking at a baby’s genitals has been around for a long, long time.

My favourite fictional story is Yde et Olive, another 13th century French romance.  This one tells the story of Yde, a princess being forced into a marriage she hates.  Rather than go through with it, they dress as a man and run away.  Over the course of Yde’s adventures, they learn how to fight with a sword, take down bandits, and end up as a knight in a foreign king’s court.  The king is so impressed with Yde that he arranges for them to marry his daughter, Olive.  Yde confesses to Olive that the marriage will never work because of his sex, but Olive says she doesn’t mind and will keep their secret, which, y’know, #Bi Princess.  But someone overheard the conversation! And now the king will have them put to death for same-sex relations! (even though... he’s the one who insisted they marry).  Yde prays to God for a miracle, and God responds by magically transforming Yde into a cis man.  The day is saved and Yde lives happily ever after as a man with his wife.  They have a son named Croissant.

My research mostly focused on transmasc stories, but I have to at least add the suggestion to read up on Choisy, an 18th century French transfem person.  She wrote a novel (Histoire) about a child who was raised as a girl with no idea that having a penis meant people would think she was a boy.  When her mother eventually tells her that she is “male,” she simply does not believe it.  She goes on to marry a Marquis, and realizes she must tell him that she is allegedly male, only for the Marquis to tell her that he is, in fact, "female.”  They go on to live happily ever after as a t4t couple.

Anyway, as I said, I am not a historian and this is not academically rigorous, but some interesting stories I came across while researching.  I wouldn’t say any of these suggest that trans people were common and accepted by broader society throughout history, but they do show that people over the centuries have been thinking about gender, what it means to be a man or woman, and how the line between those can be blurry.  This is far from being a 21st century exclusive discussion.

Unfortunately, hand-wringing hysteria about trans people is also nothing new, because I also came across several instances of medieval writers fretting about the idea of “men disguising themselves as women to sneak into convents and have sex with nuns.”  Truly, the world never changes. 

Sources:

Ferguson, Gary. "Early Modern Transitions: From Montaigne to Choisy." L'Esprit Créateur 53, no. 1 (2013): 145-57.

Hotchkiss, Valerie.  “Clothes Make the Man: Female Cross Dressing in Medieval Europe.” Garland Publishing, 1996.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

The Power of Faith (Matthew 9:18-34)

"A ruler came and knelt before him and said: My daughter has just died. But come and put your hand on her, and she will live."

Only comparatively few of our Lord's healings are recorded. He seems never to have refused to heal any who came to Him or were brought to Him. Besides, He healed some for whom no one interceded. Here was a ruler - an exceptional case, for the rulers were not His friends. Probably this man's great distress led him to seek healing for his child even in spite of his dislike of Jesus. The ruler and his prejudice, were lost in the father.

Trouble comes just as inevitably and as resistlessly, to the mansions of the great and rich - as to the homes of the lowly and poor. None are exempt. We can build no walls and set up no doors to exclude sickness and death! This is one lesson.

Another lesson, is that when sickness or any other trouble comes to us - we ought to send for Christ. We are to send for physicians, too, in sickness. They are God's ministers of healing. Usually God requires our cooperation in all that He does for us. But we should also send for Christ. He alone has original power to heal. Life is His gift and is under His care. Health is His alone to give. Medicines unblessed by Him - give no relief. Only at His bidding can anyone be restored from illness. While we use all the means within our reach - we should use them with prayer for Divine blessing on them, and in dependence on Divine power. Whenever anyone is sick in our house - we should send for Jesus and put the case in His hands.

Jesus was always eager to help those in trouble. He arose at once at the ruler's request, and followed him to his home. It seems strange, when we think who the man was, probably unfriendly to Jesus, that He should so quickly rise and follow this ruler. But it was always thus. He did not wait to make inquiry concerning the man, whether he was worthy or not, before going with him. The man that needed Him - was the man He wanted. In this alacrity in doing good Jesus was only showing the alertness of Divine love. In heavenly glory now, He is as quick to hear and as prompt to answer our cries - as He was that day in His earthly humiliation. He is always at our call. He never has so much to do or so many calls to answer - that He cannot attend to our case. Indeed, when we come to Him with any need, He has no other thing to do - but attend to us! We should be like our Master in all this. We should be quick to respond to the calls of need and distress about us. We ought to train our hearts to sympathy and thoughtfulness, and our hands to quick, gentle ministry in Christ's name.

Then came an interruption as the Master was hastening with the ruler to his house. "Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the hem of His garment." The street was thronged with people waiting for an opportunity to get near to the Healer. The "hem of His garment" is always within reach of earth's sufferers. He has gone up now on high, out of our sight - but His garment floats everywhere. We never can get beyond the sweep of its folds. We can always come near enough to Christ - to reach out a trembling finger and touch His garment and find healing!

Of course, we must not make a mistake about this hem. It is not a crucifix, nor is it some relic of a dead saint, nor is it even a bit of the wood of the cross. It is not even the Bible, for touching the Bible will do no one good. Nor is it the Church and its ordinances; for we may belong to the Church and observe its ordinances, and get no benefit to ourselves. To touch the hem of Christ's garment - is to touch Christ Himself. His garment is His life, His love, His Spirit, His grace.

A human physician, if hurrying on such an errand, would probably have refused to listen to any calls for help on the way, as the ruler's child was actually dead. But Jesus stopped quietly and turned to see the woman who had touched Him. Mark says that He asked, "Who touched My garments?" How did He know that one touch amid all the jostling of the crowd? The multitudes were close about Him, pressing up against Him. Many of them touched Him. The disciples thought it strange that He should ask such a question. The people could not help touching Him. But there was one touch different from all the rest. There was something in it which sent a thrill through Him. There was a heart's cry in it, a piteous, earnest supplication. It was a touch of faith. It was not like the jostling of the crowd - an accidental or unconscious touch, the mere touch of nearness. It was intentional. There was a soul's cry in it. So, amid all the crude pressure of the multitude, He felt that touch, and turned about to see the one who had touched Him.

Jesus always knows the touch of true faith and prayer among all the touches of this great world. In one sense all men are near to Him, for He is everywhere present. We cannot move without pressing up against Him. But when among all earth's millions one person intentionally reaches out a hand to feel for Him, to touch Him with a purpose, with a longing or a desire, to seek for some blessing, or to beg some help - and He instantly knows the pressure of that touch and turns to answer it. He knows when a hungry heart wants Him - no matter how obscure the person, how poor, or how hidden in the crowd.

Notice His graciousness in answering the woman's prayer. "Jesus turning and seeing her said, Take heart, daughter, your faith has healed you." This was a bit of Christ's wayside work. He was hastening with Jarius to his home, to restore his dying child - and healed this poor woman on the way. We would call it incidental work, unpurposed, unplanned. The things we set out in the morning to do - are not by any means all the things that we do in any well-spent day. If we have the life of Christ in us, everyone that touches us gets some blessing from us. While busy at our work, we speak kindly to those who meet us or who are near us - and an influence of warmth, cheer or encouragement, or an inspiration toward better living - goes from us to them. We meet one in trouble as we hurry by - and stop to give a word of comfort. We hear of a case of distress - and we send or carry relief. Thus, if we have the spirit of Christ, our wayside service will be a most valuable and important part of our work in this world.

We do not know how long Jesus was detained in healing and comforting the woman on the way. "Jesus entered the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd." The child was dead and they were preparing for the funeral. So it seemed that He had tarried too long along the way. To us it appears, that He ought not to have stopped at all to heal or talk with the woman. She could have waited. But when we read the story through to the end - we are glad that He did stop to help the woman. We learn form His delay - that Jesus never is in a hurry. He is never so much engrossed in one case of need, that He cannot stop to consider another. He is never so pressed for time, that we have to wait our turn. No matter what He is doing, He will always hear instantly our cry for help.

Another thing we learn from this delay - is that Jesus never comes too late; He never waits too long. True, the ruler's child died while he lingered - but this only gave Him an opportunity for a greater miracle. He delayed, that He might do a more glorious work for this family. There is always some good reason for it - when Christ seems to delay to answer our prayers or come to our help. He delays, that He may do more for us in the end.

"The girl is not dead - but asleep ." This was Christ's word always about death. He said His friend Lazarus was asleep. He says the same of all His friends. They are not dead. Indeed, they never lived so really, so richly, so fully - as they live, when we call them dead! They are away from all the limitations of earthly life, set free from the hampering prison of the flesh, cleansed of all sin, "spirits of just men made perfect."

Christ changed the whole aspect of death for His people! To them death is but the passage to life - rich, blessed, glorious life. Even bodily death is a sleep - and sleep is not a terrible experience. It is restful and refreshing, and then we wake again from sleep and live on beyond it. So the body sleeps, and will rise again renewed and wearing immortal beauty. Christ called this child from her sleep very soon ; it will be longer before He will call those whom we lay down in death's sleep - but He will surely wake them in His own time, in the blessed, glorious morning. It is wonderful comfort to us - to know that Christ has care of our sleeping dead and has the keys of their graves and can call them when He will.

Another phase of human need is met in the next incident. "Two blind men followed Him." There are a great many people, who are blind in another way. They can see certain things - but certain other things, they cannot see at all. They can see mountains and plains and blue skies, and human faces, and money and real estate, and all earthly things; but they cannot see God, nor heaven, nor the beauty of holiness, nor the inheritance of believers, nor any of the unseen things of blessedness and Divine glory. They can see only material things, which are neither enduring nor eternal; but they cannot see spiritual things, which alone are real. Natural blindness is a sore loss. A blind man misses all the glorious beauty of this world. He cannot see where to go - and has to be led by the hand. But spiritual blindness is an infinitely more sore loss. Christ alone could give sight to the blind. He opened eyes, that had always been closed. He alone can open the eyes of the spiritually blind. If we cannot see spiritual things, we should call upon Christ to have mercy upon us.

Always faith was required. "Do you believe that I am able to do this?" The men must have faith, before Jesus would heal them. When we come to Him asking Him to do anything for us, He wants to know if we believe that He is able to do it. Once a father came to Him for his demon possessed son, and his prayer was, "If You can do anything, have compassion on us, and help us." But the "if" marred the request - the father was not sure that Jesus could cure his son, and Jesus sent him back to get a better faith. "If you can!" He answered. "All things are possible to him that believes ." As soon as the man could say, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" Jesus cured the boy (Mark 9:22-24). May it be that the reason why many of our prayers are not answered, is because we do not believe that Christ is able to do what we ask of Him? If we can believe - He can give what we ask. If we cannot believe - He will not do anything for us.

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Chapter 16: Endings Beginnings

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: Ari and Hannah settle into life back home, but it isn’t all as smooth as they’d have hoped…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Word Count- 4.5k

A/N: It was recently brought to our attention that in a few other chapters there have been a couple of things that Ari has said/done that are not technically accurate for someone of Jewish heritage. First up, it was reference to Ari observing a ‘Sunday Roast’ when he visited Mama Navon. We just wanted to remind people that Hannah is of Catholic Christian and Jewish heritage (Spanish Catholic Mother, American Jewish Father) and her and Sammy’s upbringing has always been a combination of the two. So, when Ari visited Mama Navon when he was home from Sudan, clearly this was her tradition he was observing. Secondly, in another chapter Ari was praying to the ‘God and the Saints’. Of course, Judaism does not have saints, so there’s a slip up on our part with that one. As with the third point, when we described Ari rushing Sarah to the alter. He would have rushed her to the hoopa.

Regarding all of the above, we would hasten to add, that Ari grew up in the USA, leaving when he was 18. From what little we learn of him in the film, we know was taken by a British Soldier, who married an American Nurse. From the way he talks about it, we don’t get the impression his ‘adoptive’ parents were Jewish, so that alludes us to suspect he had a largely Christian upbringing, whilst clearly  being aware of his heritage. Therefore, we don’t think it is beyond the realms of possibility that he would pick up the odd little thing such as the above three points.  

That aside, we hope the above didn’t distract anyone else from the narrative as it did the reader who brought it to our attention.

Now, just a personal plea from myself in general. Myself and Storm do this for free, and not being a person who pays much attention to religion at all (that’s another debate in itself) it is for this reason I was VERY nervous about continuing this storyline beyond the plot of the film. We certainly don’t have the time, nor brain capacity to be researching things into any kind of huge depth. It’s why most of my story lines centre along similar types of things that I have a good background in. This fic was never supposed to focus on the ins and outs of a particular race of people, just the lives of two dumbasses in love. As all writers on here, we do this for free, and the moment it becomes hard work or unenjoyable, we won’t be continuing. So any other little slip ups, please, unless they’re offensive, give us a little leeway and put it down to Ari being exceptionally Westernised as pointed out above.

Sorry if this comes across as being a little harsh, but this has been playing on my mind a lot over the past few days, to the point I was seriously considering if we ended the fic where it currently stood. That said, I think we have a lot left to tell of Hannah and Ari’s story so, I’ll shut up now and let you read it…if you want that is.

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 15

“You haven’t forgotten tomorrow?” Hannah heard her mother ask, as the woman stood up from the table while holding the teacup and saucer to place them in the sink. “You do remember you have to pick Sammy up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right?”

 Hannah rolled her eyes at her mother’s back. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” she sighed as she played with the crumbles of the pastry she had been nibbling on, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on, is it? Seeing as Ari is with Maya and according to Sarah’s stupid rules I can’t be there with them…”

 At that, Maria Navon turned, giving her daughter a sympathetic look and Hannah snorted in anger.

 It had been four months since they arrived back in Tel Aviv, and Hannah had to concede that for the first few weeks it was fine. She and Ari settled nicely in the apartment Mossad rented in Ari’s name once all the paperwork following the end of the mission had been sorted. Ari had asked Isaacs for an upgrade of his living quarters, given he was now having Maya over to stay every other weekend, plus numerous nights of the week. Not to mention the fact Hannah was moving with him. When Isaacs had asked Ari to put a justification forward, he had simply shrugged, “I fucking earned it, Isaacs.”

 So he got it. Just like he usually got what he wanted, one way or another.

 Hannah was back working at the clinic. Her hands and the experience she had acquired while in Africa were needed more than ever now that it was only her mother and her to run it, although how long it was before her mom decided to retire fully was anyone’s guess. It had been a couple of busy months, what with interviewing for new nurses and locum staff, but Hannah would be lying if she denied having enjoyed every minute of it. She might have Mossad secret agent skills, obviously passed down by her father, but she was a doctor at heart. And that hadn’t changed in the two years she had been away.

 The team had split up within a month of arrival back in Tel Aviv.  Ari and Max had been working to help the refugees. Many of them had simply melted away post their arrival, still not trusting the mysterious white men who had come to their aid. However, some had stuck round; being housed temporarily in hostels, and was those who Ari and Max were tirelessly working for. They focussed their efforts on obtaining them permanent, legal status along with finding them better places to live and jobs of sorts to help them fit in their new reality. 

 Jake had headed back overseas to continue work as a diving instructor, this time in Jamaica, whilst Sammy had been in the States with Rachel for almost two and a half months now, and was, as Maria just reminded Hannah, due back the following day. Hannah suspected, however, not for long, fully expecting him to move there permanently to be with Rachel.

“Sammy is lucky, you know? He has none of this shit with Rachel’s ex.” Hannah grumbled, “Sarah is just being a pain in the ass. And I know for a fact it’s because we told her we got engaged. She was fine with me being there when Maya was until that point.” Hannah finished her rant as she placed her teacup and saucer on her mother’s extended hand. 

“You can’t be sure about that, sweetheart. Maybe there’s something else."

“No, she’s being a bitch.” Hannah quickly stopped her mother’s attempts at justifying Sarah’s behaviour. “She seems perfectly fine with us having dinner during the week and going out and stuff but won’t let Maya stay when I’m there on a weekend, basically just preventing us from spending those days together, for no reason other than she’s bitter.”

Maria Navon sighed. She knew where her daughter was coming from but, being the gentle and caring woman she was, she couldn’t help but try to put herself in the other woman’s shoes. She saw Hannah bite her lip and twirl her engagement ring round her finger, a rounded blue sapphire as deep as the ocean set against a halo of smaller white diamonds on a white gold band, before she spoke again.

 “I wouldn’t mind mama but they’ve been legally separated for years! The terms of their divorce are basically already been agreed. All they need to do is sign the damned papers but recently, well, Ari seems afraid to even raise the issue in case Sarah starts making it all awkward again and stops him seeing Munch.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Listen to me.” Hannah’s mother caught her attention as she pulled out a chair to sit next to her. “Everything is going to be ok, she’ll sign eventually. She knows there isn’t anything she can do about it, she’s just grieving.”

 Hannah’s brow creased at her mother’s choice of words. “Grieving for what? She left him, years ago!”

“She left him because she couldn’t cope with his lifestyle anymore, and he wasn’t winning any awards for being husband of the year, Han. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love him,” Maria woman spoke softly as if to appease her daughter’s raging tone.

“So, basically, I’m just stuck here waiting until she gets her head out of her ass?” 

“Have a little patience, honey. You two have waited over a decade, one way or another, to be together. You sure can wait a few weeks more.” Maria smiled as she reached out for Hannah’s hands who were fiddling with a teaspoon. 

“That’s the thing, Mama.” Hannah sighed as she looked up to meet her mom’s eyes. “I don’t think it’s just going to be weeks.”

“You don’t?” The woman frowned. “Well maybe she’s more stubborn than I thought.”

Hannah shook her head and then noticed her mother’s features had suddenly softened into a smile and she was looking straight over her shoulder. Hannah turned to see Ethan walking into the kitchen in his signature crisp work suit.

“Hi Ethan,” Hannah smiled at him and then looked up at the clock over the fridge before standing up and shrugging. “I should go. Spend the night with my fiancée before I’m banished back to my childhood home for the weekend like a love sick teenager.”

As she left the kitchen dramatically, she heard Ethan ask Maria. “That bad?”

“She’s pissed off,” Hannah heard her mom whisper back, “can’t say I blame her but she needs to make an attempt to see this from the other side, so to speak.”

With an angry growl, Hannah slammed the door and set off walking back to their apartment, in even more of  bad mood than she’d been in when she arrived at her mother’s. 

 Why was anyone treating her like she was the spoiled brat?

****

Ari was getting ready for Hannah’s arrival. He had been cooking, or sort of, making an attempt at dinner for a while and was now setting the table for two. He wanted to make tonight special as he knew this week was going to be the third weekend out of six that he and Hannah would be apart thanks to Sarah and her fucking rules. 

He was finding it hard himself. He’d gotten used to sleeping besides his Firefly since they had got together in Sudan, especially at night. But he knew Hannah was finding it harder. He was sacrificing their time together so that he could spend his allotted weekends with his daughter, which lessened the blow a little, but Hannah was basically being banned from living her life as it was for two days every two weeks, and that make his heart ache. 

And the worst bit about it all, was that he had seen it coming a mile off, and had been powerless to prevent it.

It was a bright Friday morning when they told Maya about their engagement. The previous evening Ari had proposed to Hannah for a second time after buying her a lavish ring. Thus, they had decided to take Maya for a walk and ice cream to break the news to her.  The little girl had been over the moon with the idea of her dad and Hannah getting married, which hadn’t surprised Ari seeing as his daughter had been all over his fiancé ever since they had met at Mossad headquarters the morning they had arrived home.

Now, as he approached Sarah’s apartment to take Maya back, he was about to tell his ex-wife and he was not particularly looking forward to it. But, he was being cautiously optimistic. Sarah had, after all, been amendable since they’d gotten home and seemed okay with Hannah being a part of Maya’s life.

Still, he felt his stomach churn as Maya walked up the apartment they had all shared once upon a time, and rang the doorbell.  No sooner had Sarah opened the door, Maya bounced in blurting the news out without hesitation.

 “Mom, guess what? Dad and Han are getting married! He asked her yesterday and she said yes!”

Ari groaned internally to himself, “Sarah, I didn’t ask her last night,” he smiled bashfully as he explained himself, “and I certainly didn’t do it in front of Maya.”

Sarah shook her head and brushed it off.  “Don’t worry, Ari and … erm, congratulations, I guess.”

“Erm… thanks.” Ari blinked. “I just thought you should hear it from me first… even if you technically did hear it from Munch.”

Despite the civil exchange, Ari could tell that Sarah was hating she didn’t have time nor the privacy to digest the news, and that wasn’t what he’d planned at all. He’d wanted to tell her, quickly, and leave, but Maya had put paid to his plans. Ari could feel coldness of his estranged wife’s stare, along with the tell-tale faint twitch of her nose and upper lip. He knew Sarah well and he, also knew how she deep down felt about him and Hannah. 

“She seemed cool about it but I know her, Han. Too cool for Sarah.” Ari told Hannah that night over dinner. “I can’t help feeling this is going to be bad…”

For once, Ari wished to God he’d been proven wrong. But, Sarah ended up doing what he feared, reverting back to being petty and petulant. She called him the next day to announce from that moment on, when Maya stayed with him, be it during the week or on her agreed weekends, Hannah wasn’t to be there overnight because, as Sarah had put it, it wasn’t appropriate for Maya to be around when they were… well, “up to stuff.

Hannah went ballistic, telling Ari his estranged wife was being ridiculous and she could go to hell, but Ari knew Sarah well enough to know she needed to get this out of her system. He tried his best to explain to Hannah that until she did, there was nothing he could do but roll with it, certainly for the time being. Making Sarah angry would not only risk her going back on terms of the divorce they’d set out in their separation degree, but also, he feared, make her get pissy about him seeing Maya. And that simply wasn’t something he was prepared to risk. He’d already missed too much of Maya over the years, admittedly through his own fault, but he didn’t want to miss a single second more than he had to.

Just as Ari was turning down the heat under their dinner, Simon’s ears pricked up and a second later Hannah’s key was heard in the door. Air smiled at the dog, who let out an excited whine, and leaned to give him a scratch behind his ears.

“Mama’s home, buddy.”

The pooch looked up at his master almost like he was pondering his words and Ari scoffed. 

Yeah, home. Bar the weekends when she’s banished to her mother's…

 Simon trotted off and soon after Ari heard Hannah greeting him. A moment later she walked into the living area and gave him a tired, but genuine smile. 

“Hey Lobo.”

 Ari beamed at his fiancé as he walked to meet her and without warning, he grabbed her face with both hands and stamped his lips on her plump ones, kissing the hell out of her. Hannah moaned in surprise but melted into his hold, her hands instantly reaching for Ari’s bearded cheeks.

“Hey Firefly.” He whispered when he broke the kiss.

She smiled at him as her hands travelled upwards and tangled in his hair. “Something smells good.”

“Thanks, I just showered.” Ari drawled, a cheeky smile on his face.

“I meant the food, you ass.” Hannah laughed as one of her hands slapped Ari shoulder, but his grin never faded.

“I’m a whole meal, honey.” He continued, playfully. Hannah rolled her eyes and stepped back. “But yeah, I’ve been cooking or rather mixing things in pots and pans.”

“Hmmm should I be worried?” She shrugged off the light jacket she was wearing to shield her from the summer showers.

“Well, Simon tasted everything and he’s still breathing.”

“Simon used to eat jellyfish, Ari. That’s not a bar to measure your cooking with.”

“Hey, I tried, okay? Give me some credit. I’ve never cooked for a woman before.” He grabbed her hips and pressed her to his body, one of his big hands splaying over her back.

At that Hannah smiled at him lovingly. He was right. She suspected he had never cooked for Sarah and he certainly hadn’t cooked for her, not once. Never in the brief amount of time they had been secretly dating, and at the resort it had been Chef Aziz's job to cook for everyone.

“I’m honoured, and I’m sure it’ll be great. Give me five to go wash up okay?”

“Sure, babe. I’ll plate the food and open the wine.” He winked at her and Hannah stood on her toes and gave him another quick peck before she headed into the bedroom, Simon following her.

True to his word Ari had done a pretty good job and thirty minutes later they were both sat at the table after having enjoyed a dammed passable and tasty attempt at a beef stroganoff on Ari’s part that left Hannah pleasantly surprised. 

She sighed with satisfaction as she left her fork on her plate and when she looked up she noticed Ari was looking at her intently, his eyes shining under those long eyelashes.

“You trying to seduce me before my carriage turns into a pumpkin tomorrow, Levinson?” Hannah asked before bringing her glass of wine to her lips.

“Hannah...” he sighed.

“What?”

“Please don’t, sweetheart. I don’t want to argue.” 

It was her turn to sigh, heavily. Ari’s words were more of a plea than a warning to her, but she couldn’t help the way she was feeling. Granted, she wasn’t quite as pissed as when she had left her mother’s house, but she still had a sour feeling which was nagging at her. 

“I don’t want to either, Ari. I just don’t like the prospect of spending my weekend away from you. Again.”

“And you think I do?” He asked, reaching for her hand over the table. “Honey, this won’t be forever. Sarah just needs to get her stupid tantrum out of her system.”

“Yeah, I know and I don’t want you having trouble with Maya because of me, I wouldn’t keep you from Munch, ever. But you’re my fiancé and I just...” she trailed off, shrugging, “I don’t want us to be apart.”

Ari licked his lips and pondered for a moment as he looked at their entwined hands. “Okay, I’ll talk to her when I pick Maya up tomorrow.” He nodded with determination when he looked up at her. “See if I can reason with her and...”

“Don’t Ari. You’ll only set her off.” Hannah rapidly cut him off.

Ari groaned and let go of her hand, his look and voice growing harder. “Well then, what do you want me to do? You literally just said-“

“I know, but I don’t want you to poke the bear! I just want this fucking ridiculous situation to be over.” Hannah shook her head. She knew she was riling Air up, but she was sick of everyone trying to get her to accept the situation they were in without so much as a word of complaint. “I’m not blaming you, it’s just…forget it, can we just pretend we are a normal couple who are having a normal evening dinner?”

“We are a normal couple. Well, as normal as most anyway.” Ari took her hand again, his features softening. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I just don’t know what I can do.”

“Love me.” Hannah stated after a while.

Now that puzzled Ari. Was that a request or was she doubting him. She couldn’t be doubting him, right? With concern written all over his face he pushed his chair back to stand up and hurriedly crouched beside Hannah, his hands grabbing her thighs firmly as his eyes searched for something in hers. 

“Firefly, I do love you. You know this… I mean, at least, I hope you do.”

“I do.” She nodded as she looked down to him. “Just don’t stop loving me, no matter what crazy ideas Sarah comes up with.” 

“Hannah, that’s not gonna happen.” He assured her after swallowing hard. “I promise you. Nothing she says or does is gonna change the way I feel about you.” 

****

Ari meant what he said and took it upon himself to make sure his Firefly was left with no doubt as to his feelings for her all through the night. And then again he made sure she hadn’t forgotten the following morning too before she left to pick Sammy up from the airport.

Ari collected Maya, as arranged, from the summer holiday camp run by her school and then, throwing caution to the wind, took her to Maria’s to see not only Hannah, but Sammy and the family. Hannah was surprised, but pleased to see them both and hugged Maya tight as the girl threw herself at her, chatting away about her day. They ate a lovely dinner, courtesy of Maria, and later, retired to the shared garden in the warm, July air. 

As Maya sat with Sammy, who was telling her stories about the states and Rachel’s kids, Ari found himself watching Hannah. She was sat with her mom and Ethan, the three of them sipping wine as the dusk drew in. It wasn’t long before the first little twinkles around the tree flashed through the darkness, signalling the fireflies had come out to play. 

Ari’s mind quickly travelled back to when he first met Hannah, how those little bugs had been present in the garden, earning her the nickname. His nickname for her, which had stuck and become a term of his love for her, symbolised by the pendant round her neck. It was that pendant, or more specifically how he had given her that pendant, which had fixed the idea on how to present her with the sparkling sapphire and diamond ring on her finger…

It was a Thursday morning, and Hannah walked into the bedroom after her morning shower. Ari looked up from where he was fastening up his short sleeved shirt and smiled as she grinned back at him. 

“You really do suit that colour, pretty sure Ethan’s secretary will approve.”

“Ethan’s secretary?” Ari continued, stopping two buttons under the collar.

“Yeah, that’s what I said Lobo.” 

“Ethan’s secretary is nearly a hundred years old, Firefly.” Ari rolled his eyes with a chuckle, his hands on his hips as Hannah frowned.

“Well who was the young, blonde girl at her desk the other day when I called in?” She picked up her hairbrush from the top of the chest of drawers that served as her vanity unit.

“Lorraine? She’s an intern, Mrs Goldman is training her.”

“She likes you. I can tell.” Hannah hummed, combing out her locks which had been piled on top of her head to prevent them getting wet.

Ari rolled his eyes as Hannah pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail. “Whatever.”

“You can whatever me all you want,” Hannah sang as she picked up a bottle of lotion and sat on the bed, “I can sense these things.”

Ari snorted, looking down at his girl as she sat on the bed applying lotion to her legs. “You getting all territorial on me?”

“Do I need to?”

“Don’t be an ass!” Ari snorted, leaning down to kiss her. 

As they moved around the room, Ari took his time, a lot longer than usual, dragging his morning routine out as long as possible. If Hannah noticed he was making a meal out of tidying his beard up, something he had taken to doing since returning to civilisation, she didn’t notice.

He was stalling for one reason, and one reason only. The surprise that was waiting for her in her underwear drawer.

After what seemed like an age, she crossed the room and pulled it open. Ari held his breath as she reached in for a pair of panties, but instead she gasped, he hand flying to her mouth.

Bingo.

When Hannah spun around, the red, velvet box in her hand, Ari was waiting on one knee, beaming up at her. “Still wanna marry me, Firefly?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she nodded, her voice thick with emotion, “yes, you know I do!”

“Had to ask with a ring, sweetheart.”

He watched as she opened it, her mouth dropping open once more as she stared at the ring. 

“Lobo, it’s gorgeous… I… I love it!”

As Ari rose to his feet, he sighed with relief, “good, ‘cause I had a hard time finding something worthy of my girl.”

“It reminds me of the ocean,” she smiled up at him, “and your eyes.”

“Kinda why I bought it, the ocean that is.” Ari smiled as he took the ring from the box, slipping it over her knuckle, watching as the sapphire settled at the base of her finger. “Hannah Maria Navon, I love you, baby girl.”

Hannah glanced at the ring before she beamed, her hands cupping his cheeks, “and I love you, Ari David Levinson.”

Ari smirked a little at the memory, they were totally late for work after getting a little ‘distracted’ so to speak celebrating their engagement once more, only this time in a bed and not the back of a shitty jeep in the Sudanese desert. 

“Dad?” Maya bounced into his lap, drawing a huff from him as she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs, “Are those fireflies?”

“They are Munch.” He nodded, kissing her head as she watched them zipping around. “Can you see now why I call Hannah my Firefly?”

She grinned, “yip!”

Hannah, who had been watching them, cleared her throat. “Ari, it’s getting late. Shouldn’t you two be heading back to your apartment?”

Ari looked at her pointedly. “Our apartment, sweetheart.”

Hannah was about to shoot a response back but then remembered Maya was there so she merely sighed. “Ari, look, you shouldn’t even be here now anyway. It’s not worth the argument if she finds out.”

“Why can’t we stay here, dad? I wanna stay with Han!” Maya piped up and Hannah groaned a little, shooting Ari a look.

“Because Han needs to stay with Sammy tonight, she’s not seen him for a while. You can stay some other time, okay?”

“I’m not gonna say anything to Mom if that’s what you scared of.”

At that, Ari and Hannah exchanged a look. “Why do you say that? Why would we be scared?” He asked and Maya shrugged.

“I heard Mom say some things.”

“What things, Munchkin?” Ari smoothed her long hair back and waited for her to reply.

“Well, I was upset, because at first I thought Hannah didn’t like me anymore as she always left when I stayed over. But one day last week, I heard Mom tell Grandma on the phone she had made you and Hannah spend the weekends apart because I was with you.” Maya paused and looked at Hannah, “Is that why you don’t stay with us at the apartment?”

Hannah blinked, she was stuck. She didn’t want to lie but also didn’t want to start bad mouthing Sarah in front of Maya, no matter how tempting. “Erm, it’s, well it’s complicated, sweetie. You and your dad need to spend time together. But I promise you it’s absolutely not because I don’t like you. I do, I love you very much.”

At that Maya stood up and launched herself at Hannah.  “I love you too, Han.”

Ari and Hannah could do nothing but exchange a look, which Hannah broke as she leaned down to hug Maya, tears visible in her eyes.

And it left Ari feeling even more like shit than he already did.

No, he had to fix this, even if it meant pulling Sarah up on her attitude despite Hannah asking him not to. Whilst he understood Sarah’s anger, and that she had every right to direct it at him, the fact that it was clearly having an impact on Maya was something he couldn’t let slide.

With a sigh, he stood up, instructing Maya to bid everyone good night. Before he left, he pulled Hannah into a kiss, his hands cupping her face.

“I’m gonna fix this,” he whispered against her lips, “trust me, baby.”

“I do.” She sniffed a little, her nose bumping his. “Go, go on. I’ll see you Sunday.”

As they walked the few blocks home, Maya’s hand locked in Ari’s, he was only partially listening to his daughter as she spoke. 

“Dad!” Her voice drew him from his thoughts about how exactly he was going to approach the subject with his soon to be ex-wife. He glanced down at her.

“What?”

“We’re you listening to a word I just said?”

“Honestly, no!”

“Daaaaaad!” She whined and Ari chuckled.

 “I’m sorry baby, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I should get Hannah something for luck.”

“What do you mean?”

 “Well, Mom was talking to Auntie Louisa, and she said that Hannah was going to need plenty of luck being married to you so…”

Ari took a deep breath, anger flashing through his system, rolling his eyes. “Oh, did she?”

“Yup.” Maya nodded.

“And, do you think Hannah’s gonna need luck?”

Maya looked at him, and grinned cheekily. “Well, you are an idiot!”

“Rude!” Ari narrowed his eyes playfully, “mind you, technically, you might look more like your mom but you’re half me. Guess that makes you half an idiot, huh?”

Maya went to dig him in the ribs and with a chuckle, Ari swung her up and onto his shoulders. Her hands tangled in his hair as she giggled, before she leaned down, fingers threading into his beard.

“Han’s right, you do look like a wolf.”

Ari laughed, his hands tightening around his daughter’s ankles as her heels lightly bounced against his chest with each step he took.

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man. ( Taehyung x OC)

Chapter 1    Chapter 2

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 3 ~ The problem with marriage is this  : it isn’t worth the pain of divorce. 

Denial isn’t healthy.

 But sometimes it helps you stay sane , at least long enough to get your act together. When you’re in denial, you kind of keep yourself together a bit. You process things a bit more slowly. Take your time examining the facts. 

It helps you make a delayed but possibly more informed decision.

 Impulsive decisions never end well.

 So it’s good to stew in denial for a while ( a short while) and then slowly begin processing what happened, think about it, think how its gonna affect you and then make a choice. 

Unfortunately for Taehyung and I... I wasn’t in denial. 

Maybe I should have been.

 The time between Taehyung turning up drunk and the me leaving the house was less than twelve hours. Taehyung showed up drunk and I just told him I was leaving. That we needed a break and I didn’t know when I’d be back. 

Terrible choice.

 In the first twelve hours, the hurt is so potent and strong , the wound so raw and fresh that you can’t think beyond the pain . Your instinct is to repay the pain, to retaliate and make the other party feel exactly what you’re feeling. So you think of the thing that would hurt them the most and you go ahead and do it. 

Like move out of your shared home of eight years, take away the son he adored and possibly rip the ground right out from under his feet. 

And then after the first twelve hours, reason begins to catch up. 

I had wanted to go back. 

I had wanted to go back to him but I was scared. 

Scared that I was being weak.

 That if I didn’t stick to the choice I made, Taehyung would forever see me as a pushover. That he would take it as some sick permission to do it all over again. That he’d just think I was too weak to walk out on him. 

And i couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have him hurting me and not facing the consequences of it. I just couldn’t.

So I stayed away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I worked on the seventh floor of a high rise in Gangnam, probably a twenty minute drive from Taehyung’s agency. It was an electronic/ tech company that dealt with everything from mobile phones to home fittings . As the  assistant director of Marketing I dealt with branding and keeping up the image of the company. Annual budgets, endorsements, campaigns and what not. 

I was good at it and i enjoyed it . everyone agreed that i did a good job because the numbers spoke for themselves. But I think the main reason I got the job was because I was married to the biggest brand ambassador in the country. 

“ I need the reports on consumer trends for this month and I want to meet with Social media team before lunch. There’s a drop in our web traffic and that needs to be fixed.” I told my assistant, accepting the hot coffee and muffin that he held in his hand before moving to the corner office, my strides faltering just a bit when i noticed that  someone  was already inside. The figure had his back to me but I could vaguely recognize the broad shoulders and muscular arms. 

“Mr. Jeon’s been waiting for about ten minutes now.” Mingyu said with a smile and I nodded. 

“That’s fine , I’ll handle him.” I waved my assistant off and moved to the  door, unlocking it and stepping in. 

“Morning, Jang Mi.” He smiled, eyes flashing with ill concealed delight and I inhaled to calm myself down. . 

I could already feel a headache coming on. 

“Jungkook.” I said curtly. “ To what do I owe this very early visit?”  I glanced at my table finally taking the bottle of champagne in the small ice bucket. 

“Thought we’d celebrate you finally being free.” He grinned. 

Jeon Jungkook was handsome, intelligent , and annoyingly good at everything he did.

At 34,  He was one of the youngest CFO’s in the industry, and everything he touched turned to gold. I didn’t report to him and he had zero reasons to be in my office at any given time. But , unfortunately he had never gotten that particular memo. 

“I’m not in the mood, Jungkook.” I sighed, moving to the back of my desk and dropping my bag on the small ottoman on the side and my keys in the desk. I plugged my phone into the cable on the side and then went to open the blinds. 

“Come on... You know how sick I’ve been of two years of  hearing ‘ I’m sorry, I’m married.’ .... you’re gonna have to come up with  a better excuse the next time i ask you out.” 

“No. No is a whole entire sentence that you should be able to accept.” I said evenly, fixing the cushions on the couch only to have him plop down on them immediately after. 

“One date. Dinner anywhere you like. i can fly you to Paris if you want.... Macua? Jeju Do? Tell me what you want and I’ll get it done. ?” 

i stared at him. 

“I want you to fire Kang Yeseul from the Social Media team.” I said with a shrug. 

He frowned. 

“The new girl? Why?” 

“She’s been posting nudes that she took in my office when I was on leave last week. My name plate is literally visible.”

“Jesus fuck...these bitches get dumber by the minute.”

I couldn’t even deny it.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said swiftly. “ Anything else?”

“Web traffics gone down and I’m gonna find out why. It’s probably time for us to work out the budget for the Christmas Carnival. I think we should go for something new this time. If you can set up a meeting with all the department heads we can brainstorm a few ideas...” 

“I can’t forget about that night.” 

I froze. 

God. 

i turned around to stare at him as he lounged on the couch. If Kim Taehyung was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, Jungkook was definitely the second.

 He was disconcertingly good looking and where Taehyung’s image was always the clean cut gentleman with the perfect character, Jungkook had a reputation as a bit of a delinquent. Simply because he had a penchant for leather jackets and liked to ride around Seoul on his motorbike on days off. 

Which was ironical because in truth, Taehyung was far from a saint and Jungkook was relatively more put together 

He was also a divorcee and a single parent. His daughter Jennie was easily the cutest two year old on the planet.

His wife and him had fifty fifty custody but she had cheated on him with his best friend. Jungkook had no patience for her. They had a very volatile relationship but he was fighting for full custody and rumor was that he would most certainly be granted it, soon. 

A marathon runner ,  he didn’t drink or smoke.  

Jungkook liked to paint and volunteered at an animal shelter once or twice a month because he loved dogs but couldn’t keep one because of his busy schedule. 

So all in all , a pretty solid candidate if I was looking for a guy. 

Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that I was completely and utterly done with relationships for the rest of my life, I would actually give the guy a chance. 

But , it is what it is. 

“That sounds like a  you  problem. “ I shrugged. “ It was supposed to be  one  night  with no strings attached. And by string I meant awkward conversations three months later .” 

Jungkook groaned and sat up straighter, legs spread and shirt sleeves riding up to show a very sparkly watch. Rich men and their vices. I smirked a little. 

“Come on... its just dinner. I want to get to know you, that’s it.” he held his hands up. 

“There’s nothing to know Jungkook. I’m actually more boring than i appear, which is saying something. I’m not going to be the girl in the leather jacket clinging to your waist when you’re joyriding that motorbike of yours through Seoul. That’s not me. I would hate something that” 

He chuckled. 

“Are you sure? You ever tried it?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s not the point.”

“I’ll buy you a jacket. Join me this weekend. We’ll go a ride. Then you can make a decision.” 

I opened my mouth to argue when the phone rang. I grabbed it quickly.

“Hello?” 

“This is Lee Taemin from the Advertising Department.”

“Yes?”

“We have a Mr. Jung from HYBE on the phone. They want to talk to us about a possible candidate for our Christmas Campaign.... “

I blinked, surprised. 

“We haven’t even decided on a theme yet. “

Choosing the right actors to endorse stuff was usually the last step. 

“I know but he’s saying they want to talk about Mr. Kim Taehyung as a possible candidate?”

I felt my entire jaw come unhinged. 

I turned to Jungkook stunned. His eyes widened at the look on my face and he mouthed a ‘ What’ 

“Please tell him I’ll call him back in fifteen minutes.” I said quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook demanded. 

“Taehyung’s manager...he... he wants to make him the face of the Christmas Campaign.” I said dully, mind ringing. I was utterly stupefied. 

Taehyung was the face of Gucci and Versace . He was so far out of our company’s league it wasn’t even funny. 

Jungkook stared at me in disbelief.

“No.” He said quickly.

I gaped at him.

“What?” 

“No... we can’t have that. He’s.. he’s obviously doing this to get back with you...”

I shook my head.

“that can’t be it. He’s the one who gave me a divorce. He’s the one who wanted to end it. “ 

It was the shock of what I’d heard. There was no other explanation for why I said that to Jeon Jungkook. 

Jungkook gave me a look.

“Really? But you wanted one too right?”

“Of course I did.” I lied easily, waving him off. “Anyway that doesn’t matter. We can’t say no to him, Jungkook. Our sales would skyrocket if we get him onboard.” 

Jungkook swore.

“Fuck, you’re right. The Ceo will probably piss himself in excitement. You sure you’ll be okay with it?”

Jungkook looked worried. 

“You forget that Taehyung and I are actually quite good friends.” I said gently. 

He grimaced.

“That's just unnatural. If you can stay friends with an ex it clearly means that either you’re still in love with each other or....”He shrugged. 

“Or what?” 

“Or you never loved each other in the first place.” 

I swallowed the remark hitting a little too close to home for comfort. 

“Schedule that meeting Jungkook. We’ll come up with a campaign theme that would fit Taehyung’s image. I’ll take to Hoseok and Taehyung.” 

“You’re going to call Taehyung?” Jungkook asked casually.

“Hoshi’s with him today. I’ll probably go over to his place after work and talk to him in person.” 

“Lucky bastard. He gets to hurt you and yet  still have you.” Jungkook said bitterly. 

I rolled my eyes.

“He doesn’t have me.”

“Doesn’t he? Why else would you turn down dates with anyone who asks? its one date.. a dinner... If you’re not still hung up on your ex husband why wouldn’t     you just go on one date with-”

I’d really had quite enough of it. I threw my hands up in sheer exasperation. 

“Alright fine.” I yelled, “  I’ll go to dinner with you...can you just stop psycho analyzing my relationship with my husband?” 

Jungkook’s smile told me that I’d been played like a fiddle. 

“excellent. Go see your husband after work and I’ll come pick you up at eight.” 

“What...no wait...”

“I know where he lives. Don’t worry about it. I’ll schedule that meeting and maybe after lunch we can go over the kind of budget you’ll want. Okay?”

I felt a little like I’d stepped into quagmire. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t go see Taehyung after work. 

I didn’t have to. 

An hour before I was due to finish my daily report, he turned up at the office with my son. My assistant let him in and I could only gape at him.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked , completely thrown. 

“Mama I had ice cream with strawberries and sprinkles in a hundred colors.” Hoshi looked excited, eyes shining the way they usually did when he was with Taehyung. 

“That sound incredibly exciting....”

“We missed you mama....can we go again?” He said excitedly.

“I’m sorry honey, Mama’s a little caught up with work...”

“Why don’t we wait?” Taehyung said cheerfully, “ Mama likes blueberry scones so we can get those for her...” 

I stared at him.

“Okay...” I sad carefully, staring him down. What was he doing really?

“Okay... Can I go see the fishies....” Hoshi waved at the large fish tank built into the wall in my office and Taehyung laughed, letting him down.

“Sure bud.. go see how many of the fish you can identify...” He said brightly. 

“ Since when do you pick me up for blueberry scones after work?” I asked briskly and he shrugged.

“Let the kid be happy , Mia. I heard Hobi hyung already spoke to you.”

“What is that all about, Tae?” I said tiredly. 

“All the other offers i got are out of Korea. I want to stay with Hoshi during the Holidays so i thought this way , we could spend some time together..”

“By we, I hope you mean you and Hoshi.” I said drily.

“Of course. I could’ve picked another mall or something but i thought it could be a good thing if we worked at the same place... we can keep Hoshi with us and there wont be all the commuting back and forth nonsense....” 

I nodded. 

“I suppose you’re right. “ I sighed. “But be warned, you’re probably not going to have a very exciting time. 

“I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.” 

I nodded. 

“I won’t tell you how to live your life And I most certainly won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My Ceo might just give me a huge pay raise for this. He’s been waiting for it since the time he hired me.”

Taehyung gave me a smile.

“I would have done it the minute you asked. You never asked.” 

I shrugged. 

“Like I said, I won’t tell you how to live your life.” 

“Jang Mi?” The knock on the door made us both look up.

Jungkook stood framed in the doorway, jacket off and slung over his arms . He looked bigger than usual, muscles straining against his button down and hair mussed. 

He stepped in casually, holding a hand out to Taehyung.

“The golden boy of Korea. in the flesh. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Kim. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook” 

The pair of them shook hands and I felt that I would rather be anywhere in the world than there. 

“ Nice to meet you Mr. Jeon.” Taehyung smiled politely. 

“We still on for tonight?” Jungkook asked casually, turning to me with a bright smile. 

This is why i hated men. 

Taehyung’s eyes snapped to me so fast that i was sure he must’ve got whiplash. 

“Sure. I’ll call you.” I said shortly. 

“What’s tonight?” Taehyung smiled, face neutral and smile still in place but his eyes flashed and his voice carried a knife edge to it. 

“Business dinner. We’re going over the budget for the Christmas campaign.” 

“Oh... where?” Taehyung asked with the same smile and I frowned.

“We’ve not decid-”

“I thought I could cook for you. i make a mean steak dinner and I thought I could pick up a bottle of your favorite wine on the way. You have my address right? ” Jungkook smiled. 

Taehyung went still next to me, his entire body taut . 

“A little inappropriate for a business dinner, don’t you think?” he snapped.

Jungkook glared back at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play-” he began but I’d had enough. 

“I think this conversation needs to end now.” I said loudly. 

They  both shut up but glared at each other.

“I’m gonna make a reservation at the Hyatt for tonight. I’ll meet you there at seven thirty. “ I said, glaring at Jungkook. 

He nodded.

“Pleasure meeting you Kim Taehyung.” He nodded curtly at my ex husband before moving away. 

The silence he left behind was pretty awkward. 

“Bit too much of a douchebag than your usual type.” Taehyung said casually. 

I groaned.

“Don’t start.” 

“ I won’t if you don’t date him.” 

I opened my mouth to argue but then stopped. 

“Lets just get that ice cream ? “ I said tiredly. Hoshi reappeared from the inside room, looking excited and happy and I smiled despite my weariness. 

I could use a little sweetness in my life after a bitterly exhausting day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Feedback is welcome . Probably going to be a long , terribly angsty fic with a lot of pain for everyone involved. I still haven’t decided who ocs going to end up with so we’ll see... what do you guys think? 

[prettyvampiress96]

The Malfoy Secret - Chapter 3

Since the traumatic death of her last living relative, Anna had since been a guest in the Malfoy manor . Although she was by now a little more than a guest. Her aunt was peacefully laid to rest and throughout the whole ordeal the Malfoys were her absolute anchor to reality. Anna however still couldn't put her thoughts in order at the situation. On one hand Anna had wanted to go home but on the other hand she rather enjoyed the company of the Malfoys. Anna had previously attempted to return home twice. The first time Anna had gone to return home , Draco begged her not to leave claiming he wanted to make the most of her company before his return to his last term of third year next week.. The second time Cissa began fretting about her wellbeing. Her being worried about Anna all alone in that big house. So Anna agreed to stay to ease Cissa's conscience but did say that she would return before her first day of work at the Ministry. What Anastasia didn't know was that she would be the right hand assistant to Lucius himself. The letter enclosing said information remained unopened in the Rosier mansion.

The following week Narcissa and Lucius bid Draco farewell at kings cross station whilst Anna was already in the Ministry of Magic for her first day along with another student from her year . Anastasia now knew that she would be working with Lucius , she was relieved at least it was someone who wouldn't judge her by her name. Though the thought of being in such a confined space with the white haired man had butterflies filling the pit of her stomach. Lucius strutted into his office in the department of Magical Law Enforcement, halting in his footsteps at the sight of his darling Anna stretching on the tips of her feet to reach a book higher up on the shelf, Lucius held back a laugh as he took in just how miniature she was even in a pair of heels. Even though he adored that about her , he couldn't help picture in absolutely nothing but those heels all stretched out for him and for cissa of course. Anna hadn't yet realised he had entered the room she was too caught up in finding the book Mr. Crouch had requested. Lucius took this as his moment . He walked as quietly as he could towards her . When Anna was in his reach, his large hands held her hips , his long fingers digging in slightly. Anna's back pressed flush against his broad chest. Leaning down to her ear. "You want my help with that darling ?" He whispered pressing himself further into the girl. Anna blushed at the feeling of his hardened member making itself known. Easily reaching for the book , his hand could reach without him even trying. "By all means you can say no and I shall just sit back and watch as that little skirt rides up more and more. Its taking I have not to throw you over my desk and worship you right here babygirl" Lucius smirked as Anastasia let out a squeak at the pet name he called her. Lucius brought the book down to Anna's eyesight, offering it out to her , Anna still pressed against the overly large shelf. Before Anna could respond in walked Narcissa. Narcissa drank in the scene in front of her , the sight of her husband and hopefully her soon to be princess. Anastasia's face flushed a deep red as she resisted the urge to run into Cissa's arms. " My darling how lovely of you to join us isn't that right princess?" Lucius turned to face cissa while slipping a wink to Anna. "I .. Uh..you...I should get this book to Mr. Crouch " she said shyly unsure of how to respond , after all neither of them had spoken since her and cissa kissed. Anna couldn't help wondering is Narcissa regretted it. Bowing her head Anna moved to rush from the room. "WAIT, STOP" Narcissa called after her smiling as annas feet immediately come to a halt." Hurry back darling there's something we should all talk about". Anna nodded in response quickly exiting the room. Anastasia walked with the book in her arms just down the hall, knocking respectively , Anna awaited permission before entering. " Mr Crouch I'm terribly sorry if I am interrupting I'm just bringing the book you requested from Mr Malfoy" Anastasia informed showing the book as if she needed the proof. "Ah right yes, good good I do believe you may have just missed crossing paths with our young Mr Weasley. He took it upon himself to retrieve that book . A good boy he is . If that is all Miss Rosier I am rather busy I'm afraid" Mr Crouch, the minister of Magic himself said without raising so much as his head. Anna walked back to Lucius's office , the sound of her heels clacking with every step, when suddenly body blocks her way. "You know you'd think the slimy Slytherin's would crawl back into their holes rather than working for the Ministry . Your father was a blind fool to follow the dark lord . Tell me what would daddy think of his daughter now. Oh no thats right he got himself killed before you could wipe the drool from your chin? " Percy Weasley sneered at her . Anastasia's blood fuelled an inferno of rage and Percy was about to get a taste of the fire. Passer's by began to stop and watch while office doors seemed to open for the fellow workers to do the same. Annas eyes glazed over and she smiled a

sweet smile. " Don't you ever speak of my family in that way do you hear me ? You want to know what my 'daddy' thinks , insult me again and you'll be finding out" Anna threatened in a low voice her wand drawn and pressed into the younger Weasleys throat. Lucius Malfoy was the first to intervene , his hand pushing anna's armed one down. He ushered the furious girl into the office and she slowly began following. " Enjoy freedom while you can I'm sure they've got a cell in Azkaban with your family's name on call it an heirloom. As cold, dark narcissistic murderers run in your family dont they. When you slip up Rosier and you will . I will be the one to put you there myself" Percy shouted at her back. Taken off guard Percy hadn't expected Anna to throw 'stupefy at him knocking him down the hall by a few good feet . " Funny that if I'm to go to Azkaban it'll be for killing you. You're a no good blood traitor and yet you think you actually have the audacity to think you stand a chance against me. I know spells your mother couldnt even dream of mastering . You think you can talk about my family when you know absolutely nothing . I'll escort myself to Azkaban right now once I've sent your cold body to your mother. That dark enough for you saint Percy? Anna fumed her wand raised . Arthur Weasley emerged from the crowd , his wand drawn protecting his son. Lucius drew his wand and stood directly in front of Anastasia.

"Princess go, back to the office head held high cissy is there and I'll be right behind you "Lucius whispers so low only Anastasia could hear it. Anna nods confirming she had indeed heard his words but she was reluctant to walk away. When Lucius firmly commands her once again to go as she reaches the offices, she can already feel the tears fill her eyes and the burning sensation in her chest. Anna just wanted to scream . Instead she shuts the door and walks to her desk with her head down. Realisation hitting her like a tonne of bricks Anna slides down the nearest wall. Narcissa immediately running to the sobbing girl sitting next to her , Cissa cradled anna against her chest, rocking slightly whilst rubbing a hand soothingly on the black haired girls back.

"I'm not a bad person I've followed every rule. I've never put a foot wrong yet I'm still painted with the same brush as my father am I destined to be alone. Perhaps Azkaban is the best place for someone with a name like mine". Lucius having now dealt with the pathetic Weasleys returns just as Anna sobs those words. Seeing her so broken and seeing his wife so affected at those words only tempted Lucius to go back and seriously damage the disrespectful boy. Weighing his options, nothing was more important than his family and as of that his girls needed him. Narcissa who was still holding Anna raised her head to look at her husband , she tilted her head to the side silently asking what had happened out there.

He ushered Narcissa over to him which she does hesitantly. Torn between leaving Anna and finding out what had occurred . Narcissa's curiosity got the best of her. "Anna I'll be right back darling" Narcissa whispered assuringly. Lucius explains in a hushed whisper briefly what happened. Narcissa can't believe what she's heard. How could someone say something so cruel about her baby girl. Lucius made his way over to Anna and bent down, lifting her chin up to face him. " Don't you ever let me hear say that about yourself . We would never allow you to be put in that wretched place. A name does not define you. That boy knows nothing. He is nothing. You are my everything. Our everything " he would say pulling cissa to him as she steps nearer not wanting to scare Anna . "I'm yours. Like both of you?" Anna questioned back , her green eyes wide and her pink lips pouted in slight confusion. " Why don't we all go back home a discuss this over a drink hmm?" Cissa hinted holding her hand out for her husband and Anna to take .

They arrive back at Malfoy Manor and Anna takes a seat on the sofa in the front room with Cissa sitting on one side of her and Lucius on the other side. Lucius gently takes one of Anna’s hands in his and with the other hand gently turns her head to face him “Anna I meant what I said earlier you are our everything and I want to discuss you becoming apart of our relationship” He nods at Cissa before continuing “There is no pressure Anna, you can say no and we’ll respect your decision. It won’t affect our working relationship either.” Anna doesn’t respond straight away, feeling a little shocked at his offer. “Should you agree to be with us boundaries would be set in place, which leads me to my next question. What are your boundaries Anna?” Lucius’ voice soft as he looks into her eyes.

“I don’t have any boundaries as I’ve never done this before” Anna answers honestly as she holds his gaze for a moment before looking down at her lap, a look of confusion washes over his face “Anna had never been kissed before I kissed her two weeks ago” Cissa explained. Lucius places his fingers under Anna’s chin lifting her head up “Just to confirm Anna, you are a virgin?” She nods at him and feels her cheeks heat in a light blush. “We’ll take things nice and slow; we’ll go at a pace that suits you…if you agree to be ours that is.” Lucius tells her with a smile on his lips and Anna couldn’t help herself, she looked down at his mouth and licked her lips. Cissa nods agreeing with her husband “We will look after you. You will be safe with us…always” Cissa took hold of Anna’s other hand in hers and begun rubbing small soothing circles on the back of her hand with her thumbs.

Anna looks between Cissa and Lucius before speaking “I’d like to be yours, both of yours but I’m worried I cannot offer you much in return” Cissa turns Anna’s head so she is looking at her “Just by agreeing to be with us is giving us more than you can imagine. All we want to do is to make you feel loved, safe and of course pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams” Cissa smiles and leans forward pressing her lips to Anna’s in a quick but sweet kiss.

“If we overstep a boundary or you start to feel uneasy or anything just tell us. In fact, to be sure we are all comfortable with this arrangement I recommend we use safe words” Lucius said softly, his breath warm against her ear “Safe words?” Anna asked shyly and he chuckled lightly “Ahh so innocent my sweet girl” His fingers brushing her hair aside as he placed a soft kiss to her neck before continuing “Each of us picks a word that once spoken the others know enough is enough. The moment the word is spoken everything stops…straight away, no questions or explanations needed” Anna turned her head slightly so she was looking at him over her shoulder “I’d like to be yours, both of yours” He smiled at her before capturing her lips with his.

Lucius and Narcissa both hand in hand with Anastasia began escorting her up the winding black marble case not stopping until they reached the door to the master bedroom. Both Malfoys stood watching Anna's reaction as Lucius twisted the handle of the door pushing it open , allowing Anna the first step inside. Anastasia was in awe at the decoration. With a flick of his wrist Lucius had set candles alight causing a rather romantic atmosphere. Anna's hand was still laced with Cissa's, she was reminded off that when Narcissa squeezed her hand. " What do you think babygirl?" Cissa asked brushing a loose strand of Anna's hair from her face, leaning in she placed a soft kiss on Anna's lips . "It's beautiful Cissy . It really is" Anna breathed looking behind her for Lucius. When Anastasia noticed him still stood by the door only now minus his dress shirt , she reached her hand towards him wanting to touch . Lucius noticed Anna's hesitation and stepped into her reach, taking her hands he placed them on the centre of his broad chest. Anna's hands ran up over his bare shoulders and linked around his neck attempting to pull him down to her level due to the height difference. Anna could feel his intoxicating scent overwhelm her and she took the plunge pressing her lips to his . His kiss was different to that of Cissa's it was rougher and more dominant . Lucius's hands reached over the curves of Anna's ass and lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he walked them to the bed . A naked Narcissa joined the pair , running her fingers up anna's bare legs causing anna gasp allowing Lucius access to her tongue . Anastasia pulled back from her make out session , glancing at Narcissa, her eyes tracing over the perky nipples of her breasts. Anna's mouth ran dry . She had no idea what she wanted but god that woman was it. " Remember Darling we can stop whenever you like , tonight is all about you my pretty babygirl , mommy and daddy will make you feel so good I promise princess you just have to trust us" Narcissa spoke softly tapping her finger on the top button of anna's shirt. " Can mummy take this off baby " Cissa cooed , anna nodded and proceeded to remove the shirt herself only for cissa to stop her. "Let mommy do it angel please" Cissa asked again this time Anna nodded and allowed cissa to removed her top. Narcissa dropped the shirt to the floor her eyes never looking away from Annas full breasts, leaning forward cissa placed a wet kiss to the tops of her breasts. Ana in response arched her back unaware that her hips had rocked against the very non discreet package in Lucius's trousers. Narcissa's hands travelled lower and lower until they reached the waistband of the very tight skirt Anna had on. Cissa's fingers hooked into the band but waited for permission from Anna . "Princess Mommy's waiting for you "Lucius whispered in Anna's ear. Anastasia nodded fervently glancing down and the sight of a naked Narcissa between her thighs . Anna couldnt peel her eyes away. In a split second her skirt and panties were removed , Anna's core now slick and bare to Cissa who licked her lips in delight at the prize in front of her . "We can stop if you want to little princess, you just have to say and we promise we wont be disappointed in the slightest or should mommy continue" Lucius reminded . " No please Don't stop please dont stop "Anna pleaded . Her pleas were music to their ears. Lucius interlocked his fingers with Anna's , watching over anna's shoulder as his wife's head leant even closer to Annas blazing sex. Narcissa hummed as she dragged a finger through Anna's wet folds, shivering at the breathless gasp she made in response. Narcissa placed a soft kiss to either side of Anastasias inner thigh before connecting her warm tongue to her wet pussy. Anna's hips rose from the emerald sheets , her head thrown back into the crook of Lucius's neck and her grip on his hands getting tighter. " Is mummy making you feel good baby girl ? Let us hear those beautiful noises of yours petal" Lucius teased in advance. Anna mewled , feeling

an unfamiliar weight in the pit of her stomach. Narcissa continued flicking the sensitive bud while she introduced a single finger into Anna's tight hole preparing to stretch her out for Lucius. Slowly and gently Cissa began thrusting that finger in and out in time with the flicking of the bud . With her fingers getting so slick from Anna's running juices , cissa added a second finger and with every thrust in began spreading them apart . Anna's walls began to clench around Cissa's fingers locking them in place and her thighs tightening pulling cissa closer than she was. " Oh Oh Oh " Anna screamed as she rode her first ever climax down on Narcissa .Anna felt shifting from behind her as Lucius moved himself from the bed taking Cissa's place between Anna's thighs. Climbing above her Cissa placed a kiss to Anna's lips. "You did so well darling mummy's so proud of you. Does Daddy want a taste do you think? " Narcissa beamed down at her baby all glistening in sweat , glancing to her husband smirking. Lucius's hand reached across grabbing cissa at the chin, passionately kissing his wife all the while tasting the sweet nectar of his princess on her tongue. At some point during the exchange Lucius had removed his remaining clothing. Lucius tapped on Anna's thighs grabbing her attention. Narcissa sat near Annas head now it was her turn to watch the faces her baby pulled whilst screaming from the pleasure she was receiving. " Princess you need to listen just for a minute okay? Are you sure this is what you want? I won't lie to you my girl it might be a little uncomfortable at first but that passes. Are you absolutely sure?" Lucius needed to make her aware he'd never forgive himself if he hurt her . " Please I trust you Daddy I'd like to try. Help me try" Anna begged her voice sounding like a whine. Lucius wrapped his hand around his painfully hard cock swiping the pre-cum from the swollen head to lubricate it slightly. The combination of that and Anna's cum should be just enough.

As he slowly began to ease into her, Anna's walls clenched around him as a pained groan leaves her throat. Digging her nails into his shoulders as she squeezes her eyes shut tight, Anna's body tenses against his when he comes to a stop. His body trembling as he fights the lust inside him to thrust into his pretty little princess .When the pain starts to subside Anastasia slowly moves her hips .

"Please " was all Anna could muster out. Lucius takes her thigh and places it on his hip as he starts to slowly move against her . Quickly finding a steady rhythm, as his hips roll against hers both moving in perfect harmony , Anna could feel every thrust against her walls. Her nails leave red half-moon crescents on biceps. Narcissa sat back observing couldnt help but reach down and began circling her own clit. His name falls from Anastasia's mouth like a prayer when he finds that specific spot inside of her . "Fuck, Princess , you feel so good around Daddy" he moans as he thrust faster into her , pleasure invaded her senses as her vision begins to cloud , with her head thrown back Anna can no longer keep the moans inside of her . An inferno rages inside of her , Her hands fall from his arms to grasp at the sheets with such a force her knuckles began turning white. "Papi, I'm..." she moans out. " Let it go baby I'm here Daddy's here" Lucius coaxed. Anastasias walls enclosed around Lucius's cock , her nectar coating his manhood. With a last thrust into her Lucius emptied his load filling his princess up to the brim. Gently removing himself from inside her , Lucius laid to the right of Anna enclosing her in his arms, Narcissa laid to the left of Anna . "Our princess did absolutely perfect wouldn't you say so dear?" Narcissa asked Lucius. "Oh i couldn't agree more darling. How are you feeling Princess?" Lucius asked Anna. The three of them an entanglement of limbs. Until Narcissa rose from the bed and into the large bathroom followed by the sound of running water. " Come on Darling let us clean you up and put you in something comfy before you fall asleep" Narcissa commented. Anna however was quite tired and comfy as she mumbled incoherent words from where she was. Lucius scooped her up into his arms and took her into the bathroom himself. Narcissa already in the bath, held her arms out as he lowered his princess down into her lap. A scent of lavender and camomile filled their senses. Lucius lathered up a sponge and glided it over every inch of Anastasias body. Anastasia snapped from her dazed state smiling at both Lucius and Narcissa. Before putting her head down and playing with her fingers , a sign they had already noticed when she was nervous or embarrassed. " Princess Is everything alright darling? Are you hurt or in pain?" Cissa asked concerned she may be hurt . " No no nothing like that I was urm well I just wondered could I stay with you two tonight?" Anna asked so quietly that if they had been any further away they wouldn't have caught it. "Of Course you sweet girl you were always going to sleep in with us . We wouldn't have it any other way. Now why dont you let mommy wash your hair whilst daddy gets out and fetches you something comfy eh?" Narcissa said softly to Anna pulling her in for a cuddle in the warm water. With the girls dressed in Narcissa's nightgowns , Lucius had made a mental note to have cissa and anna go shopping soon. Lucius had already pulled back the covers and slid in, waiting for his girls to come out. "Which side should I sleep?" Anna asked Narcissa. They hadn't discussed that yet. " Why dont you sleep in the middle darling so that way we can both hold you" Lucius offered. Anna scrambled into bed followed by Cissa. Cissa took hold of Annas hand and kissed the knuckles.

"I'm so happy you agreed to be ours our darling girl "Narcissa expressed. Lucius turned on his side facing Anna and Cissa draping his arm across the both of them in a protective manner. " I love you both my precious girls" Lucius said lovingly. The three slept in each others embrace for the rest of the night.