#like i said this show is a gift to the horse girls among us (me)

[skinks]

The English (2022) dir. Hugo Blick + wide shots + horses

[lustspren]

Red Hot Sloppy Christmas ft Karina.

length: 4.7k words✦

Karina & Male Reader.

genres:  elf karina, oily sex, titjob, blowjob, master kink, breeding ✧ 

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Christmas was your favorite time of the year by far, you loved the atmosphere in the streets, you loved the freezing weather, perfect for snuggling up in a blanket at home with some hot chocolate, accompanied by the colorful lights on your tree.

It was Christmas Eve, you had gone out to dinner with your work colleagues to receive Christmas together; the experience was incredible, you drank, ate like a king, and exchanged gifts with your friends. The night seemed to get no better, but a very pleasant surprise awaited you at home.

You arrived at your apartment at about 1 in the morning, the jingle of your keys echoing through the hallway as you opened the door. You took off your trench coat as soon as you entered and closed the door behind you, hanging it on the coat rack to your right; you also took off your shoes, which you placed carefully on the carpet. You felt the floor much colder than normal, even with your socks on, that surprised you, you used to leave the air conditioning on, but never during this time, and the temperatures definitely didn't get that low. Your body also quickly succumbed to the cold, causing you to shiver; you frowned and walked into the living room, turned on the light, and almost didn't have a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" you screamed, scared, "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?"

Sitting on the floor under your Christmas tree was probably the most beautiful girl you had seen in a long time, her raven hair was long and silky, with bangs that made her eyes stand out; she was wearing a sexy short Christmas strapless dress, black heeled boots that reached below her knees, and a choker of the same color with a small bow tie and a tiny jingle bell. And her ears… were they… pointy? Like an…?

"Oh, you finally arrived master!" she said with a smile from ear to ear, to get up and wipe her behind with her hands.

"M-Master?" you said nervously, without moving an inch of your body, "No, no, wait, answer my question, who the hell are you?"

"An elf, of course," she replied innocently, taking a few steps towards you with her hands behind her back, "and your Christmas present, for being such a good man all year."

"No no no no, this is ridiculous," you shook your head, "tell me the truth, and tell me how the hell did you get in here?"

"I'm telling you the truth, master," she moved even closer to you, now she was only two steps away, but you took a step back, still keeping your distance, "I already told you, I'm an elf, and I went sent here just to serve you, how I got in, or rather, how I appeared here, is not relevant."

"How do I know you're really an elf and not some crazy person trying to kill me?" you refused to believe any of it, your Christmas spirit was strong, but not that strong.

"Don't you think my little ears are enough evidence?" she turned her head slightly to the side, showing you her pretty pointy ears.

"They could be prosthetics," you replied skeptically.

She put her hands to her ears, pulling them several times with her fingers to show you that they were real.

"Very well, they are not."

"And in case you need another proof..." she snapped her fingers, making a small wooden horse appear between the two of you, your eyes widened, and then she snapped her fingers again, causing the horse to vanish into a cloud of snowflakes, which swirled around you and then disappeared.

"My god, you really are… real," you muttered, looking her up and down. Among all the amazement you had not stopped to detail her attributes, her big tits looked incredible, contained by the top of her dress, which was making a great effort not to fall off, and her legs were long and creamy, she really was beautiful in every way possible, you were quickly enraptured.

"Yes! Very real, master," she smiled excitedly, taking a long step forward to stand in front of you.

"So... you're here to serve me, you say," you tried to meet her eyes, which by the way were sapphire blue, but your gaze was distracted by the deep cleavage that herself had highlighted by clasping her arms in front of her, and of course, her bare shoulders and incredibly attractive clavicle weren't far behind, "in what way?"

"Well… that's up to you," she closed the distance between the two of you by wrapping her arms around your neck, which made you feel her boobs against your chest. You froze on the spot, and never so literally, because her arms felt as cold as ice, but that touch was enough to light your fireplace.

"First of all, do you have a name?" you asked, still not touching her.

"Well, you can call me Karina, master," she just looked into your eyes, which increasingly conveyed less innocent intentions.

"Very good Karina..." you raised your hands behind her, feeling her smooth back and then her shoulders with your fingertips, "If you were sent to serve me, I think you know very well everything I want right now, don't you?"

"Oh, of course I do, master," Karina let go of your neck and carefully lowered herself to her knees, “something like this, maybe?” she was teasing you, with a mischievous little smirk on her face.

"Yeah, just that, go ahead, cutie," you nodded toward the growing bulge in your pants.

"As you command, master," Karina completely transformed when she said that, her mischievous smile disappeared, but her eyes were still those of a woman who only wanted to please you. Her face turned leering, her mouth slightly open as she brought her hand straight to your cock through your pants; she stroked it slowly, with firm squeezes from time to time; it wasn't until the bulge was rock hard that she buried her face in it, giving little kisses that made you bite your lip.

She seemed to have received special training exclusively for this, her touch was perfect, delicate, firm and sexy, just like her kisses. Her strokes on your cock continued for a few long seconds, and she didn't stop until she saw a small stain on your pants, that led her to take off your pants, she just had to undo the button, zip it down, and pull your pants and your boxer down to your ankles, freeing your throbbing cock, who automatically was exposed to the cold air, that made you shiver.

"Oh, is it really cold master? It's my fault, sorry," Karina wrapped her icy fingers around your shaft carefully, giving it a few slow strokes, you winced at how cold it felt, "but don't worry, there are places on my body that could be quite warm to you."

Saying this she took you directly to her mouth, she took half of your cock, giving it the warmth she had promised you, you gasped, as she began to bob her head slowly and torturously. Your cock got slippery almost immediately, she knew very well what she was doing, she used her tongue in the perfect way at the perfect moments, and the movements of her head were exquisitely complemented by her silky lips moving all over your meat. You moaned several times because of how good the sensual blowjob she was giving you felt, Karina noticed it and she also moaned a couple times on your shaft, as if she was turned on by the mere fact of pleasing you. 

Two of her fingers wrapped around the base of your cock, which gave her free rein to take more than half of your shaft into her mouth, now taking you completely with each pump of her head. Your face twisted in pleasure as you let out a long moan, Karina's face also distorted as she became more and more aroused, causing her to look at you with eyes shining with lust. She didn't move faster at any time, she did everything nice and slow, that only confirmed to you that the slutty elf knew everything you liked. Her drool began to spill drop by drop from each side of her mouth, you felt like you were going to cum soon, so you only gave her a few more seconds until you finally stopped her.

"Stop, Karina," you affectionately separated her from your cock, she looked at you somewhat disconcerted, her breathing agitated and her cheeks flushed.

"Did something happen, teacher?" she asked innocently.

"Get naked, right now, but keep the boots, and the necklace," you ordered, taking a step back.

She raised her hand to snap her fingers and make her clothes disappear, but you stopped her immediately.

"No, do it yourself, no magic, be a good elf," you ordered, releasing her wrist.

"Yes, master," she nodded with a small smile, then stood up.

Her hands went to the top edge of her dress and she began to slowly lower it, revealing her cleavage inch by inch until she finally freed her milky pair of tits. You were mesmerized by how gorgeous and delicious they looked, if you were to compare them to fruits, they would definitely be a pair of perfectly round and firm melons. But it didn't end there, she kept lowering her dress all over her body until she reached her ankles, then she simply left the dress on the ground and took two steps forward to get out of it. You didn't realize it at the time, but your jaw dropped a little at how impressed you were by her body, which was hot as fuck, deliciously toned in every possible place, but not really muscled.

"Do you like my body, master? I worked it with a lot of love just for you," Karina asked with her hands behind her back.

"I love it, you really are… beautiful," you said, slightly flushed with lust, that's how men were rewarded for being good during the year, huh? "But you're forgetting something," you glanced at her pine green panties, which you could easily tell how soaked they were.

Karina complied with the order, also taking off her panties and throwing them next to the dress. Now you had an outrageously beautiful elf from the north pole naked in front of you, and you were going to fuck her, surreal.

"Is that better, master?" you wanted to see her massage her tits, which she did within seconds of you thinking about it, which didn't even surprise you due to her qualities. She did it very slowly, bringing them together whenever she could.

"Much better honey, now come here," you took off the rest of your clothes in a matter of seconds, ignoring the low temperatures as it was contrasted by how hot your body was. You took her waist with both hands and pressed her against your body, this time her tits flattened against your chest, and your cock flat against her creamy tummy. She wrapped her arms around your neck, and that was your green light to finally kiss her.

You didn't even have 10 seconds in the kiss when you knew it was being the best kiss of your entire life, her lips tasted delicious, and her lips felt like two cotton balls because of how soft they were. Your tongue invaded her mouth, and she received it between small moans and gasps; your hands ran through her soft body, caressing her back, her lower waist, her hips and making a small stop on her ass to give each buttock a strong squeeze. Karina tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, making little caresses with that hand and giving slow strokes to your hard cock with the other one.

The fact that she knew everything you thought was a great advantage, because you could take advantage of it, you wanted her to climb onto your torso and wrap your legs around you, and she did so, with a little jump so that you only had to hold her. You continued kissing her, this time feeling how the tip of your cock brushed from time to time against her wet slit.

You took her to your room, whose door you opened awkwardly because your eyes were more closed than open, but when you were inside the first thing you did was sit with her on the edge of the bed, now she was on your lap, and her pussy was pressing directly against your throbbing cock. Karina attached to you even stronger, as she slightly moved her hips to rub against you, that's when a magnificent idea came to you.

"Hey, you know what I want right now… don't you?" you said pulling away from the kiss, looking into her eyes, which seemed to light up like two pretty streetlights. Her answer was obvious, and you didn't need to tell her, but you wanted to make sure.

"Sure, master, and I must say I love it," she replied with a giggle, then snapped her fingers and made a bottle of massage oil appear in her hand.

"My god, you really are amazing," that was the last thing you said before Karina opened the bottle and poured a small amount of the oil on your cock and on her tits so that it also spread on your chest, soon the rubbing between the two intimacies it became much easier and stickier, which made it feel even better.

"Well... I told you, master," she murmured against your lips, in a raspy, lecherous tone, "I was very well trained for this… to please you."

You kissed her again, but this time the kiss lasted much less, you couldn't concentrate when her two soft, oiled tits rubbed against you.

Once again, Karina read your mind and got off your lap to kneel between your legs. She then took both of her tits with her hands and began to massage them.

"You want my tits around your dick, don't you master?" she asked as she looked into your eyes.

"I don't need to answer that, do I?" you brought your hand to her cheek and caressed it with your thumb.

"No, of course not," she smiled, taking the bottle of oil and pouring it once more, this time in larger amounts on her breasts, your thighs, your abdomen and your cock, at the same time that she was in charge of spreading it herself.

Without much else to do Karina began to concentrate on the main task, she put the jar on the floor, and took your cock to position it between her two mounds, she joined one first, and then the other, until your shaft was part of a slippery and shiny meat sandwich. You didn't bother to hold back the audible moan that escaped your lips as her tits warmed you so well.

She wasted no time in moving up and down, your cock appearing and disappearing with each stroke. You leaned back slightly, resting your hands on the mattress and crumpling the sheets; your senses went completely crazy while Karina gave you the best titjob you could ever have, you moaned, and you put your hand on the elf's neck out of pure instinct, but that only prompted her to lower her neck a little and pull out her tongue, so when her tits came down, her tongue would meet your tip.

"Oh my fucking god," you gasped, closing your eyes for a second, your mouth parted. Karina began to move faster and faster, until she was at the perfect speed that you enjoyed the most. Your pre-cum of hers was spilling every second that passed, but the elf picked it up almost immediately with her soft tongue, from which she also dripped saliva onto her tits.

"Am I doing well, master? Do you like it?" she asked, biting her lip, continuing to move her tits up and down. Her voice forced you to open your eyes and meet her gaze, and you didn't know if you were hallucinating, but you could swear that her blue eyes sparkled for a second.

"Fuck, I love it, just keep going please..." you managed to reply between gasping breaths.

"You're about to cum, aren't you? Master wants to cum on my pretty tits, doesn't he?" After saying that, Karina lowered her neck again, this time sucking the tip of your cock with each pumping of her tits.

You didn't have long to cum, but as soon as she said those words you couldn't contain yourself, and as a result, you exploded. Long and voluminous streams of cum shot out of your cock, one of them inside her mouth, but the rest went straight to her tits, since Karina had taken your cock and aimed it at them while she jerked you very slowly, draining each drop of your thick liquid. You moaned and moaned with your eyes closed, and it wasn't until a few long seconds later that your orgasm stopped.

It took you a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you admired the beautiful painting you had done on her tits, not only shiny from the oil, but now also from your cum.

Karina's face was flushed, and her breathing was also agitated, but for different reasons, she was just as horny as you or more. She scooped up all the cum she could with her hands and then licked herself up, swallowing all of your scent.

"Fuck come here, I want to eat those tits," you growled, grabbing her shoulders to get her to her feet and onto your lap again. You buried your face in her tits immediately, one nipple to your mouth, and then the other, licking and sucking on both like you were a baby who hasn't nursed in weeks. Karina put her hands on your neck and pressed your face even more against her mounds; she was enjoying it, because again she was moving her hips against your cock, making it rub against her pussy between small desperate moans.

"Ah... do you like them that much, master?" she gasped, as you continued to feast on her perfect pair of tits.

"I love them," you replied, giving each mound a firm squeeze, "but right now, I want to make you cum."

Karina climbed off your lap and onto the bed, then lay on her back with her legs open for you, stroking her inner thighs. She looked at you with a mischievous smile, and then she took off her boots, which she had been wearing all this time.

"Oh, you want to do things that messy, don't you, master?" she asked, you cursed inwardly, the fact that she could read your mind was also a scary thing.

"Yeah honey, so do your thing," you said after picking up the bottle of oil from the floor and going to kneel next to her body. Karina snapped her fingers, and a waterproof plastic blanket appeared on the bed, "good girl."

You got to work, pouring oil and spreading it all over her body in a kind of spontaneous massage, which you specifically concentrated on her legs and crotch, where you rubbed your hands continuously without touching her pussy completely. Then you went to her tits one more time, just to give them a few strokes and squeezes; you lay down next to Karina and crashed your lips against hers in a more torrid and passionate kiss, to make her separate her legs as much as possible and start rubbing her slit with your fingers.

Karina pulled you by the neck and made you stick your torso against her side, so she could feel your body rubbing against hers as you quickly stimulated her clit. She moaned against your lips, clinging to your neck with one hand and your shoulder with the other; she slightly squirmed on the slippery blanket, but she always kept her legs wide open in a very obedient manner, so you decided to up the ante, sticking two fingers inside her tight pussy.

"Master! Oh fuck!" she moaned aloud, pulling away from the kiss. She looked at you with her blue eyes, and you just took in admiring her gorgeous face as she moaned from the two fingers pumping in and out of her, hard enough to make the oil splatter from the crash of your palm against her pube.

You kept pumping your fingers for a long time without lowering the intensity for a single second, you licked her tits, sucked on her nipples, kissed her neck, and bit her jawline several times, all to be able to see that beautiful girl gone crazy with pleasure. Your labors paid off, because after a few seconds she caught your hand between her thighs, which clenched violently while the pretty elf had her first orgasm of the night. The bedroom was filled with her tender moans, and her fingers clung to your hair. Your hand remained trapped between her soft thighs until Karina's body relaxed, that's when her legs fell outstretched.

"Master... I know you want to you want to fuck me, please fuck me," she begged between small sighs.

"You know I do, but I want you up first," you gave her little kisses on the cheek and one last peck on her lips before laying down next to her. Karina got up with some difficulty and knelt down next to you, and just like you did a few minutes ago, she grabbed the bottle of oil and began to put it all over your body. She focused especially on your cock, which she stroked with her palm a few times before taking it between her fingers and beginning to rub it up and down. Her handjob made you hard in just an instant, that gave her the green light to straddle your abdomen.

There you two were, both bodies slippery and shiny, and Karina looking fucking gorgeous on top of you. She flopped forward, her face on top of yours, and her tits flattened against your chest; she reached back with one of her hands, taking your cock in one hand to rub the tip of it against her slit several times, seconds later, she lined it up with her pussy and completely impaled on your flesh with just one thrust.

You both moaned at the same time, you from feeling the overwhelming warmth of her pussy walls around your cock and her from having a big chunk of meat shoved deep inside. Karina clung to your shoulders as best as she could because of how slippery your skin and hers were, and began to move her hips at a considerable pace on your cock, which was moving in and out of her pussy with a delicious and pleasurable ease. Your lips and hers met once more, with your tongues as the main protagonists this time; Karina's hands went from your shoulders to your neck, holding it gently while she moved her hips expertly; her tits were continually rubbing against your chest thanks to her movements, back and forth all the time. You had never had sex like that, but you could be sure that it was the best sexual experience of your life, the contact felt much more intimate and passionate, and the shiny touch on your skin added a sexier touch to your bodies.

"Stop, honey, you know what to do," you gasped as you pulled away from the kiss. Karina didn't say anything, she just got off of you and lay on her back with her legs open, you got up and positioned yourself between them, to put your cock back into her slippery pussy.

You leaned forward, and without thinking twice you began to fuck Karina as she deserved, making her tits bounce with each thrust you gave. You held her legs back, reaching even deeper into her wet pussy; she moaned louder, and your mind went into a trance-like state where you could only go higher and higher.

"Just like that master! Fuck me hard! Use me like the pretty toy that I am!" she begged between beautiful whimpers, while you gave her exactly what she asked for, strong and deep thrusts that almost didn’t pin her against her mattress. 

The bed soon began to shake together because of the intense fucking you were giving her, Karina's tits were moving uncontrollably, and you decided to change position to be able to do something about it; you turned her body on her side from the hips down, and on her back from the hips up, that way you could grab her tits freely while you continued pouding her pussy.

"I'm going to cum inside you, are you okay with that, Karina?" in this new position your left hand was clinging to her waist, pressing her hard with your fingers, while the other hand was on her tits, either massaging them or pinching her nipples.

"You can cum anywhere on my body you want, master!" Karina's eyes were crystallized, about to cry because of how good she felt.

You stopped once more, this time to lie down next to her but without leaving her pussy, her back was now pressed against your chest, and your face was right next to hers; you wrapped one arm under her neck and the other between her tits, enveloping her in a warm, sticky embrace as you thrust frantically inside her. Karina turned her head to give you just a little kiss, because all she wanted was to look into your eyes while she cupped the side of your face with her hand.

"Fill me with your seed master, please... please!" she begged between moans and shrieks.

You didn't need her to tell you again. You went back to the trance of a few minutes ago, your right hand grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it hard, making it shake violently as a result of your thrusts. You don't know how much time passed, it could have been seconds or minutes, but your orgasm hit you like a category 5 hurricane. You moaned into Karina's ear, shooting your entire load into her silky cunt, but that only made the elf cum for the second time, now you two were prisoners of the spasms that mercilessly shook your bodies. Your thrusts became slow, not stopping until every little drop of your cum was perfectly planted inside her. She kept on overcoming her orgasm, so her pussy didn't let you go for a few seconds.

Silence took over the bedroom for a long time, in which you and Karina were perfectly coupled chest to back. You were the first to speak.

"You… you can't stay, right?" you asked innocently in a mutter.

Karina snapped her fingers, making the plastic blanket disappear under you, and not only that, making your bodies dry again. You couldn't do anything but thank her mentally, now you could feel the creamy softness of her skin. She turned around, and hugged you with one arm and one leg.

"I'm sorry but... no, I can't," she said with a sad smile, "when the sun starts to rise, I'll have to go home."

"Does that mean you can at least sleep over with me?" you took her chin with your fingers, giving her a little kiss.

"Yeah, sure master," she smiled, then kissed you back, "but hey, if you're still a good boy next year, I'll be back."

"Believe me, I'll be the best of boys every year to see you again," her blue eyes gave a nice sparkle again, that made you smile.

"Maybe I'll take you to my home for a visit, who knows?" she shrugged.

"To see the little sapling I just planted inside you already born?" you joked. Dumb.

"Yes, that's right," she said, more convinced than you'd like. You saw her frowning, and she simply closed her eyes, sinking her face on your neck, "rest well, master... until next year."

———————————

SPREN NOTES:

Well, now, this is the last smut of the year, finally! It is the Christmas gift that I leave you, since I will be a little inactive during these days for obvious reasons. I hope you enjoy it!

Don’t forget to support me on ko-fi if you want! https://ko-fi.com/lustspren.

[aliypop]

Back To Black : Chapter 4

latest chapters : Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Word Count:  7,319

Writers Notes: Here we are Chapter 4  topping off season 3 and kicking into gear of season 4, I hope you all are enjoying the series so far, I’ve been enjoying writing and watching Peaky Blinders

shout to @herosneednotapply​ and her oc Florence

Warning: Show violence and language Suggestive themes

Pairing: OC ( Eleanor Williams ) / Thomas Shelby  

(Claudette Williams) / Finn Shelby

Song to listen to as you read

Plot: What happens When the Williams Family makes their grand return back to London from a war stricken France to only find the rocks of war and the runts of crime the Shelby family slowly leaking into their world,

1924, The 1st Of June, New York City

My Dearest, Thomas Shelby

Regarding your last letter, I'm terribly sorry about your wife, Grace. I'm sure she was a great wife while you were married. I also hope you received my gift for Charlie. 

I know it isn't much, but I saw the jockey on the horse, and I figured it would remind you of when we crossed paths at that derby. To think that was only two years ago. We were nearly at each other's throats. Virginia told me about what happened between Leslie and her. I could see why she'd be upset.

 I  thought the woman was dead. After all, if I weren't the head of The Black Pearl Oyster company, I  would have left. 

Meanwhile, you were right. Florence did  ask, "Why the fuck were you in the south?" I do like her quite a lot. She keeps me up on American trends and ways. 

I now have a song on the radio, a cover, if you will, they give a chance for any gullible fool to have one, but I figured why not. I have a voice, and it brought in money at The Pearl. Perhaps I can make a few records here. It's a bit of a ballad, but the words reminded me of us. If it ever swims across the pond, you'll know of it. 

By the way, Polly tells me you've met my aunt Vadoma, and I know you're wondering. Polly talks to me, and yes, she expresses a lot of how much she likes me and how much Virginia comes around to kiss Ada backward, as the kids call it.

 She also told me you had a problem with the Russians and a Priest. I wish you would've told me. After all, diamonds are girls' best friends, and I've made allies with the Russian Mafia. I met one man who could out-talk Alfie. On the other hand, I met a man writing a book, a struggling artist named Francis Scott Fitzgerald. Scott says he's writing a book that's gonna blow the blues. He calls it Among the Ash-Heaps and Millionaires, but I think he should name it The Great Gatsby. 

Anyways It seems I'm running out of room on my paper, and Florence calls me to go into this dreaded heat of American summer, give my sisters my best regards, and give Charlie a kiss on his forehead for me,

Best Wishes

With Love

Eleanor Vadoma Williams

PS. 

I hope Polly received the earrings I bought her.

1924 -  London The Pearl

"Mr. Williams..." Claudette said, sitting in the chair backward. Andre looked at his adopted sister, sickened by her appearance. She was wearing black breeches, a button-up shirt with pearls, a vest,  a black overcoat with dressy oxford heels, and suspenders keeping her pants up, 

"Claudette, it's been a while since you've shown your face..."  he laughed, "I've done some thinkin, reinvented meself," removing her gloves as she turned to Isaiah, "Butt me, will ya," handing her a cigarette, 

"Anything for you, Etta, " he smirked, 

Tommy had sent Isaiah, Finn, and Claudette to deal with Andre, who was running the club almost to the ground had Virginia not known anything, 

"Thank you, Isaiah. Now Tommy Shelby sent us here because it appears your fuckin with his shares on his Gin..." looking into her cousins' eyes as he laughed,

 " A group of children policing me, oh this is fresh." Andre laughed harder, mocking them. Finn and Isaiah stood up as Claudette motioned for them to sit, "Have you or have you not been keepin the money to yourself?" Finn asked, his trigger-happy hand on his gun, 

"I broke his deal off," a smug look on his face as he lit his cigar, "Passed it to a woman who really cares about this shithole of a place." motioning his index finger in a circle, "Who'd that be," Isaiah questioned as Claudette leaned forward, 

"Your mother Claudette," he smirked as her brown face went pale, " I partnered with her to start getting kids your age something to do; I think, what you slum rats call snow?" he smirked, 

" You snake!" pulling out her razor blade from her overcoat pocket as it was under his neck. The two boys and their guns were drawn, ready to blow a hole in his head if need be, "Look at this. This isn't you. You were the cute pearl to be, Eleanor 2.0. and-" feeling blood drip from down his neck. 

"I'm not from Manchester and be careful who you call a slum rat. Last time I checked, we were born to freed slaves who could barely afford food. The only difference was everyone in Small Heath couldn't, but we fuckin worked for what we 'ad. So yeah, this is me," she laughed, "Workin' with everythin I fuckin 'ave!" Andre's eyes grew wide to see the girl who called him her brother betray him in such a way,  

"I hope Will was good to you, Lorcan," Virginia said, pocketing her money and giving half of it to Julian, 

"He was an angel with a throat that wouldn't let go." Lorcan laughed, the three coming down the stairs as Andre rolled his eyes, "I train my girls and guys to do only the best." she grinned, Lorcan taking the keys to his car out of his pocket as he fixed his hat, "You know back home we have Lizzie, 

she's great, but every man in towns had Lizzie,"

"I remember my first time with Lizzie,"  Julian and Virginia said in unison. Virginia looked over the railing, and she then noticed Claudette. She had to admit that peaky look was looking good on her, as was the grasp of power surrounding herself. This was the Claudette that had always been inside her, 

"Look at you, Ms. Williams." Virginia smiled, motioning for them to disarm themselves, 

"It's Hilda, Claudette Hilda," taking a long drag of her cigarette, 

"Forgive me, Ms. Hilda. turn so I can get a good look at ya." Claudette turned as Andre was still stunned, "You carry power well. I'm sure Nora would be proud if she'd seen you." hugging her cousin tight as Claudette hugged her back, 

"Aye, Hilda, you ready?" Finn asked as her face flushed, turning a deep red by the cheeks,

 "Coming, Mr. Shelby." she winked at him as Finn got flustered, 

" What's that about," Virginia asked,

"Never you mind. Oh, and Andre, clean your hands. You're dripping blood on Eleanors' floors." Stomping out her cigarette and walking out the door,

 "That was a ballsy move, Etta," Isaiah said,

"He better be lucky I haven't got a hat yet." taking Finns as she ruffled up his hair, placing it on his head, "Claudette Hilda Shelby," she grinned,

"Gotta nice ring to it." Lorcan looked back at the three as Julian snickered, "Could have a ring to it..." Finn mumbled enough for Isaiah to hear it.

1924 The 21st Of August, Warwickshire

  Dear, Elle

Thank you for your condolences. You seem to be the only one saying them with good intentions, and I respect that. For the time being that I had with Grace, she was what I assumed a good wife was, but I wouldn't know what one really does. And yes, the gift for Charlie. He seems attached to it, anything to do with horses,  just like his old man. And yes, it does remind me of the derby. If I'm not mistaken, the horse looks like yours that we beat. I still remember that look on your face,

However, when it comes to your aunt Leslie, we all wish she'd have died, but I'm keeping her alive because one, I assume you want me to spare her, and two, she's a minor inconvenience, 

sure she and your bastard of a brother have messed with our bootlegging deal,

 But I sent Claudette to handle that. I may never say this to her, or I may, but I am proud of her. She's more ballsy and gutsier than Finn but less impulsive.

Regarding New York City, I'm glad you ran into Florence. She's a good friend and confidante, and I wouldn't call you gullible, a fool sometimes, yes, but you have a gift, Eleanor, singing, something my late wife tried her hardest to do. Claudette actually bought it. She plays it all the time. It Had To Be You, the words are charming, and about the Russians, they're manically fucked up, or perhaps it was just the duchess. But I don't doubt you could tame them. For all I know, you tame lions for fun, 

And yes, I did meet your aunt Vadoma. You're splitting the image of her as beautiful, eccentric, and emotionally connected. However, she talks in metaphors, but I feel they hold unforeseen truths. And as for Pol, she loved the earrings. I will say I was surprised to learn you're of Romani people, Pol, however, said she knew by your bones, whatever that means, really because she knew Vadoma, 

And a writer? Careful, he may make you his muse. Lorcan does it all the time. Lorcan's either buried in a prostitute, he's painting them, or both. You have no idea how often  I've walked in on him bending some whore over a canvas. You never know with a Lee man, 

Sorry, it took so long to respond. I feel my next time will be longer, things are changing, and I can feel it. 

Yours truly,

Thomas Shelby

PS,

Emeralds suit you better from the picture you sent. 

Small Heath

"Good mornin, Aunt Polly," Claudette smiled, walking through the halls of the gambling den, "Morning, Claudette," Polly responded from her office, passing Finn as he was flirting with another girl, her face green with jealousy as Tommy looked up from the paperwork on his desk, but with a slight smirk on his face, 

"Finn, can I talk to you..." Claudette asked as he ignored her,

"You probably make everyone jealous," the girl's eyes looking directly at Claudette, 

"I wouldn't say that." checking over the numbers. "Besides, you ain't bad looking yourself." he winked at her, tipping his hat, "Finn!" Claudette shouted again as he shrugged her off, 

"Fine," walking off, she took his keys and a pack of his cigarettes, putting them in her own pockets, 

"Try impressin her now, flyboy."

"Ay, I saw that..." 

"Mr. Gray, how's the accountin going."  sitting on Michaels's desk as he laughed, "It's shit. I don't get to be out there like you, which is odd considering you're a girl in breeches." he looked at her, her face frowned up, "Don't give me that look Dette," his index finger under her chin, pulling her closer towards him,

"I hate it when you frown,"  he whispered. Finn walked by, clinching his fist, "And I hate it when you tell me not to." Getting off his desk, she gave him a wink,

 "Oh, check the total from the shares of The Pearl club and trading company,"

"Let's say Tommy's a little pissed at ya for not catching the added surplus charges we 'ave to pay." she walked out of his office, "Hope you don't die, or maybe you will." she shrugged as Arthur laughed, 

"How's me favorite, little lady?" Arthur asked. Arthur had now embraced her presence rather than seen it as a threat. And maybe it was because he understood her, or he was there on the lonely nights when she would fall asleep in Tommy's office screaming from night terrors as to why her mother left her. After all, he had been in a similar situation, "Still wantin her hat," she joked, sitting next to him, watching his Whiskey glass, 

"Can I?"

"When ya turn 17,"

"So 1925!"

1925  6th Of January 

My dearest; Tommy

When you get this letter, it will hopefully be on your birthday, but before I get into that, I'd like to wish my condolences on the life of your brother John. The splitting of your family. We have lost family, my father, and Andre. It seems my Aunt Leslie has pissed off Luca Changretta, and he's coming for us just as he's coming for you. Virginia has been teaching the rest of her girls to shoot. She's building them as soldiers, and I fear they'll kill her too. Claudette tells me Andre nearly raked our businesses across the mud. of course, that could never happen. 

See, I thought up a plan, and that is for Shelby limited to buy half of The Black Pearl Oyster businesses. That way, if Changretta or anybody else comes for your shit or mine. We can protect each other. I know I haven't met your brothers other than Julian yet,

 But I assume you can muster the will to convince them. Florence tells me you're good at these things.

 Florence also told me it'd be a bad idea to come home, Yet it's so hard to explain plans in writing rather than face to face, 

Vadoma tells me Polly tends to host séances since your family tussle. Which, yes, did cross the pond amongst the organized crime world. 

Everyone says she has a gift, and Vadoma sees it as well. Of course, from what I'm learning, Vadoma sees a lot of Polly, but I digress. I hope you got my gift, for it may be my last yet, 

My mother thought it well to go back to the practices of her youth and decided maybe I should settle down for the business and marry a politician who wants to change the world. I see it as being silenced and shown as a trophy; 

women aren't allowed much here to have opinions or be heard, they are dainty decorated things, and you and I know that's not me. I have a mind and a sharper tongue. But never the less, may you have a happy birthday, try not to work too hard, and have an old fashion in my honor.

Your dear friend,

With love

Eleanor Vadoma Williams 

  1925-London Docks

"You be gentle with my Myrtle, you hear." Virginia smiled, pocketing half the money, the rest going to Myrtle. Virginia had always done business around the docks, for it was the most desperate place where men would do anything for a quick fuck. Since Andre had gone, Virginia threw herself deep into the family business. It was time for her to step up, and she knew it. Sitting at the docks, she had been waiting for Thomas Shelby. Her sister was smitten with him. Hearing footsteps on the cobblestone Virginia grabbed for her gun. As the man stepped into the light, it was none other than "Luca Changretta..." flicking her cigarette out her mouth, "Who was you expecting, sweetheart," his New York accent getting under her skin, "One of my girls, actually," she looked at her nails then back at him, 

"You mean my broads?" his hand out as if he were expecting money.

"Expecting something?" she glared at his hand, 

"My money for my share of the fuckin girls..." he said, almost like a spoiled brat, 

"Sorry," Virginia said, 

"Sorry for what..." Luca grabbed her by the chin, his grip on her tight, 

"That I don't speak bullshit." 

BANG!

A bullet lodged right in her ribs, crimson blood staining her suit. Virginia tried reaching for her gun, but her vision was blurry. She could only hear voices, "Go ahead, shoot her, Andy." Luca said, a shot to the chest,

 "That'll teach her not to talk back," Luca smirked as the man next to him spat at her body. Running out covered in blood, Myrtle fired a few warning shots. Luca could smell the scent of sex and the cologne of one of his men on her, 

"What did you do to her!"

"She's just sleep angel face," he said, pushing her up against a wall. Myrtle spat in his face, her gun pressed to his head, "Shoot me do it," he whispered in her ear, "But I warn you, you'll be shootin fucking blanks, dear." Luca growled, 

"You don't deserve to live, you monster, you-"

BANG

BANG

BANG

Her Red Clara Bow styled curls slid down the cement bridge. Myrtle's  lifeless body lay there, a fresh bullet hole in her head, next to the slowly dying woman she'd loved, "Is this the war you want, Andy?" Luca asked, patting him on the back, "That is the warning sign." he laughed, cigarette now in his mouth. It wasn't his first choice, but it would do for now. 

"The real war is with the remaining Shelbys. You can kill the other bastards. Just let me share the main one." he grinned, snapping his fingers as a few goons dumped myrtles body in the water. 

"What'dya we do with the other,"

"Clean her up and leave her at the doorsteps of the Shelby's," Leslie said, her heels making the entrance first, "But keep her alive, and make sure the girl sees her first. Let her know she's next."  Leslie smirked. 

The Shelby House

"So this sister of yours has a plan..." Ada asked Claudette, the two drinking Whiskey, "How come I've never seen her?" Claudette sighed, "She's in the states, but she wrote Tommy the plan." leaning over the table as a sense of sadness took over in her eyes, "Eleanor was the glue to the family, and when my father, uncle told her she could never come back the family went to shit." she laughed, "Well, welcome to the Shelby family, it's always going to shit." she sighed,

 "So this Changretta shit, can she ..."

"Mhmm, Squash it, yes, but to kill it, you'll need more than the Shelby family. Two wars are going 'round, and I'm the target." she looked up at Polly, her cigarette burning as usual,

 "You won't be a target, not while you're here. I won't allow it," Polly smirked, "Now eat." Polly looked at her, "Yes, Aunt Pol." Claudette smiled, eating her sandwich, "Heard anything from Virginia lately?" Polly asked as Ada rolled her eyes, 

"Pol!" she grumbled, "No, I haven't,"

"Well, you should. I like having Virginia around. Besides, she beats all the men you've met." Polly mumbled the last part as Ada blushed, 

"We haven't talked in a while. Virginia's grown busy and-"

A plumping noise stopped the three women from talking, "I'll go see what it is." Claudette said, taking her revolver with her, "Ada go with her," Polly commanded as Ada stood up, walking with the young girl, Ada looked out the window as she saw no one but the usual bustle of the town, nodding to Claudette to open the door, laying there was Virginia bloodied, beaten, and almost on a dying limb, Ada ran to her side as Claudette was standing frozen by her feet, she couldn't breathe, her mouth was dry, and suddenly she wasn't there, this was her warning sign, this was her reason to fight. As she stood there like a dead weight, she saw her mother standing across the street in the shadows, giving her a menacing wave. This officially meant war, 

"Arthur, Finn, Julian, one of you move your asses and help!" Polly shouted as they rushed to carry her in, "Lorcan,  get Tommy, Michael, get Claudette some tea..."

"But, I'm not a maid." Michael sassed,

"Make the fucking tea Michael!" Ada glared at him. 

An hour later, Tommy had arrived with a firey fury, perhaps from meeting with Alfie or having Ms. Jessie Eden in the office. Either way, he was needed in the gambling house for a family meeting. Shrieks of pain were heard from Ada's old room. Tommy raced toward to see a brown-skinned woman dressed in one of his brothers' suits. 

"Who the fuck is this..." Tommy glared at Ada, 

"Virginia, bite the cloth, don't suck the gin out of it!" Polly grumbled, pulling the bullet from her chest out. 

"I can tolerate the OUCH FUCK!" 

"Virginia Williams, " he nodded, remembering that Eleanor had told him about her in his letters. It was strange how they never crossed paths, "Don't just stand there, help or something!" Ada growled. He took off his overcoat, he began walking over to her. She didn't look too bad, nothing he hadn't seen in France, but he knew if one thing went wrong, Eleanor would be on the first boat back to have his head. Pouring Gin over the bullet wounds, Virginia bit harder against the rag, "Ada, hold her down. Polly, get the bandages." he sighed, his fingers going into the cavity of the hole in her rib, from where it was she was lucky to be alive, "Alright love just stay calm Tommy's got you." Ada cooed, rubbing the side of her face,   and that's when it connected, but he hadn't had time to address that just yet, "It's out..." Examining the first bullet, it said Virginia, which wouldn't be surprising. After all, he had one with Tommy's name on it, but the one in her chest was different. Taking the other out, he could read the name on it clear as day, 

"Claudette..." what would Luca want with her. She wasn't officially a Peaky, and she hadn't caused any harm, but then there was Andre, who was dead, or was he. 

"So, you're Thomas Shelby..." she winched as Polly wrapped her up, 

"That would be me, yeah," he looked at her.

"We met briefly at the charity event. The night you caused my sister to leave home." Virginia said with gritted teeth, "She left because she wanted to," he stared her down. Virginia could see the hurt in his eyes, the look of a man spending sleepless nights in the arms of lovers who weren't Eleanor. 

"Well, I feel better, and I should head back to Lon-"

"STAY!" Claudette shouted, rushing over, " I mean, if you'd like to," clearing her throat, 

"You're worried about your sister?" Ada smiled. It was nice something wholesome was in the Shelby home, "I don't want Luca tryin to shoot the only family I got." Claudette said, sipping her tea. Tommy looked up at her. He could see the look of relief in her eyes. Knowing that she wasn't dead was enough for her, but knowing she might next wasn't enough for him to look her in the eyes,

"Shouldn't you be in bed, young lady?" Polly asked as Claudette shook her head, "Why's that." Claudette tried to think of an excuse, "I'd like to be tucked in first, perhaps a warm glass of milk even ?" she mentioned as Tommy laughed among himself,  that she hadn't changed much from he first met her, "You're fucking seventeen Dette," Virginia bluntly said as Claudette rolled her eyes, "Virginia and I will tuck you in, and Pol will make you some milk with honey," Ada smiled kissing her forehead, "What about Arthur and Tommy?"

"I already have Charlie to tend to." he looked at his pocket watch as Claudette nodded, 

"I'll be in bed then." she sighed, noticing how Tommy wouldn't look at her, dressed in one of Ada's old nightgowns. Claudette was tucked and comfortable as anyone could be living in Small Heath. As her eyes began to grow heavy, she could see Ada and Virginia sharing a passionate kiss with each other. 

"You should really rest," Ada suggested helping Virginia out of the room, "Fuck it, I'll be fine, my darling," her arm around Ada's waist, the two walked down the hall past Arthur as he glared at her, his wife Linda already sleeping peacefully, 

"When I let go, run for your life," Andre said, hugging Claudette tight, pushing away his grip as his hands now were around her neck, squeezing tighter. She couldn't breathe. Claudette felt lightheaded and dizzy. As if the room around her was spinning, focusing, she was in The Pearl. This much she knew, 

"Let... me ..." 

"Let you what..." Andre growled, "Go, you owe me something, Etta..."  he laughed as he pinned her against the mirror, her face towards the mirror,

"I don't owe you shit,"  she growled, his neck oozing with blood as it did on the day she cut him, 

"Oh, but you do..." another familiar voice said, peering from the shadows. Leslie had a revolver in her hand. Pointed towards Claudette. As she tried to break free, Andre slammed her face into the glass, shattering it, shards cutting deep into her face as it oozed with the red liquid on the floor. Claudette only laughed, her disfigured face looking at her mother, 

"Is that all you got..." another thrash into the mirror as she only laughed harder, 

"No, there's more..."

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

"I wish I never had you..." her body lay lifeless as a gaping hole was in her chest, the bullet next to her with her name engraved. As she tried to get up, she saw another person, Luca Changreta, 

"Send this one to Tommy..." 

BLAW!

"No....No....No...NO!" Claudette screamed, jolting out of bed. She was sweaty and sticky, her hair felt stuck to her head, and her body felt like dead weight, "No, don- don't touch me!" Claudette screamed, backing away from Finn as she flinched. Finn's eyes had gone wide until her breathing was faster and shallow,  her body trembling in fear, and she was known to never fear anything.

 "I'm not gonna hurt you. Just tell me what's wrong..."

"I-I C...Can't," her teeth chattering as hot tears pricked her cheeks. Her body shaking like a leaf, 

"Darlin, tell me, please." 

BLOOM!

"NO!"

A crack of thunder across the sky only caused her to panic more, "They're coming for me..." she whispered, laughing out of anxiety, "He's coming for me, and he's going to kill me..." Finn tried to touch her again, as another sound of thunder happened, 

"TOMMY!" she shouted, "Where's Tommy..." she asked. Claudette was 4 again, cowering in fear, screaming, kicking, and crying just like she was that night. 

"In his office," extending his arm out to her, Claudette took it. Trying not to focus on the shadows surrounding her or the many tricks her nightmare-stricken mind played on her, "Could you take me to him?" Claudette asked, counting his freckles, trying to calm herself down, "Yeah, uh, Claudette..."  Finn locked eyes with her. Something about the moonlight and the vulnerability of how close the two were was taking over his senses, 

"Yes, Finn..." the two walking towards the gambling house offices, "I wanna tell you somethin if that's okay..."  he asked, as she was snuggled up into his warmth, 

"Tell me,"

"I'm here for you." he kissed her forehead. Tommy looked up from reading over the books that Michael handled as he smirked to himself. Finn was growing up right, and he was proud. As Finn wiped away a loose tear, "If you need me, I'll be in John's old room," Tommy cleared his throat startling the two, "Finn bed... now." Tommy grumbled as Claudette straightened up, "Tommy, sorry... I." Claudette took a deep breath,

 "Why are you up. It's 3 in the morning," Tommy pointed out, "You're up too," she glared at him, "To answer your question, I had a nightmare..." she sighed, 

"But you wouldn't care 'cause you're busy workin," Tommy had finally looked up at her, puffy red eyes and drenched clothes, "I'm all ears now, tell me what was it that made you scream like a fucking banshee."

"You heard me, and you didn't think to help!"

"Can't depend on me all your life." he shrugged, "Gotta learn to do things on your own sometimes," Tommy was right, but it wasn't what she wanted to hear, 

 "That's why I got shot in my dreams by my mother..." she mumbled, "Because you weren't there, You know Andre... he haunts me in my sleep every night, and Eleanor isn't here to tell me it's okay, and Virginia's drinking her sorrows out with Ada as we speak, so forgive me if I wanted sympathy from THOMAS FUCKING SHELBY!" she broke down and cried screaming as Tommy scooped her up and held her, something he wished his own father would've done for him when he was little,  

"Hey, hey, hey," he cooed, brushing out her hair with his hands. He may not have been as paternal to Charlie, but he was learning through Claudette,

 "Talk to me..." 

"Promise you won't leave..." she asked, looking at him, trying not to cry himself, remembering how it felt when he asked his father the same thing, 

"Claudette..." 

"Promise me, even if you don't mean it!" she sobbed into his waistcoat, " I'd get it. No one wants me, not my father, Eleanor, or mother. They all left me," 

"Claudette Hilda Shelby!" Tommy took her chin to look up at him,

 "Don't you ever fucking say that, yeah they left you, but Elle, she's coming back, and the rest of us, we never left you, and fuckin won't," his hands on her shoulders as he bent to her height, "I'm not fucking leaving you," he smiled at her wiping her tears away, Claudette looked up at him still teary-eyed, "I'd even do the most shittiest Charleston for you," he began to dance, as she shook her head, "Eleanor does it better," she mumbled, "You bet she fuckin does, but just know we'd throw ourselves in front of every damn bullet with your name on it, to keep you safe."Hugging her back made Tommy feel like, just for one time in his life, he deserved to do something good, to have something good, 

"You really think of me as a Shelby?" Claudette asked, her tired puffy eyes nearly closing, 

"I don't know..."

"You called me Claudette Hilda Shelby..."

"You're delirious go to bed." he said, sitting back down about to type on his typewriter, "But I'm not tired..." yawning as he peered over his glasses, 

"Okay, I'm going, but you better go to sleep too,"

Walking down the halls, Claudette heard a whispered noise. Looking for a weapon, she grabbed the nearest bottle and swung it like a bat. The creaking of the floorboards as the nose got closer to her, she felt a halting motion towards it.

 "Put the Whiskey down..." Finn glanced at her, 

"Finn..." she sighed, "You scared me..."  taking the bottle from her hands as they brushed against each other, "Just tryin to keep you safe," he winked,

 "Finn!" she gasped, " What are you tryin to do?"

"We could drink a little Whiskey, maybe..." he smirked, "Calm down those nerves of yours..."   Claudette rolled her eyes as if he didn't have her with the mention of Whiskey.

 "Whadya say?"

"Cups or the bottle?"

"We drink like Peaky's out the fuckin bottle," he smirked, taking the first swig and passing it over to Claudette, who nearly drank the entire bottle, "I see why Arthur told us no to touch the Whiskey," she laughed, "Kinda burns." Finn chuckled as she got a bit giggly, the two laying in the bed as he held her closer, their lips inches away from each other,

 "Finn..."

"Yeah... Claudette,"

"Can we always be this close?" she whispered as the wheels in his mind began to click. Seven years he'd been trying to get the girl,  she'd rejected him, it seemed the seventh time would be the charm, "Why do you like me or somethin." he asked, "I wouldn't say I like you. But... lately, I've wanted to kiss the freckles on your face, and punch that girl you've been talkin to," she grumbled as Finn laughed, to think Tommy's advice was working, "Are you sure it's me you think of and not Michael or Isaiah." Finn asked, a dorky grin on his face,

"I'm as sure as a rainy day that I only think about you." she snuggled into his side, and Finn took in her features. They were soft,  like her brown skin, her curls poked out of her scarf. She  looked at him like he was her world, kissing her nose as she giggled, "Finn, kiss me?" she murmured, "In the morning." 

The sun rose only halfway as it did in the winters of England. A cold, pale landscape, but it was home and somehow comforting to a woman like "Virginia, what are you doing..." Ada laughed, hearing soft music playing as the brown skin woman limped her way toward her, "I'm in the mood for dancing in honour of Myrtle's life and in honour of you saving mine." she gave Ada a quick peck on the lips, 

"Virginia, you haven't even healed properly yet," 

"Don't care, I feel fine, so butt me a cig, would ya, and let's dance." dipping Ada as she laughed, their eyes meeting, 

"We could be dead at any moment," her hand on Virginia's cheek, "I'd rather die by your side. Then without you at all." she sighed, 

"When did you get so fucking romantic..."

"When I started losing everyone..." she sighed, "It's fucking pathetic, innit..." she mumbled as Ada shook her head, "It's-"

"Ada Tommy's arranged a family meeting. Uh hey, Virginia..."

"Julian, you're a Shelby?" Virginia smirked, "I knew it,"

"We'll be there..."

The taste of Whiskey was still fresh on their lips. And her hands were everywhere, not knowing where to go at first, "Claudette, have you ever actually been kissed," Finn asked as she looked away from him, "You haven't..." he laughed a little. 

"I haven't done a lot of thins but don't go fucking laughin at me!" she pushed him playfully, 

"It's cute." he smiled, "But let me show ya how to kiss," he winked at her as she rolled her eyes, "Then fucking do it, Fi-" her eyes closed as her arms were around his neck, she was breathless but fully breathing, Claudette felt like her body was on fire, but also felt like she was flying, "How was that,"

"It... it was good but uncomfortable," she said,

"Uncomfortable ?"

"Yeah, layin like this on my side, no," she grumbled,

 "Fine then, what's more, comfortable." Claudette sat in his lap, looking at his lips, " That's uh comfortable very..." his brain short-circuiting. Claudette ran her thumb over his lips as she smirked,

 "Soft. I like that in a man." 

"Claudette, will ya please just kiss me alread-" Claudette leaned in, kissing him as the lingering taste of Whiskey smoke and sleep took over. His hands were around her waist, pulling her closer to him, goosebumps peppering Claudette's skin. Biting his bottom Finn flipped her over. So he was on top of her with his hands on either side of her head, 

"I can stop if you'd want." 

"By all means, please continue, Mr. Shelby..." hoarse from the kiss, Finn kissed her neck, then her cheek as he loomed right over her lips. Claudette had pulled him down to finish what she had started, 

"The French invented this one..."

"Invented what?"

"Finn, have you ever been kissed," she smirked, taking his face in her hands and licking his lips as she snuck in her tongue. Finn was flustered for once. And by the one woman, he found peace in. His fingers were in her thick curly hair, lost in everything that was,

"Claudette..."

"Where the bloody hell is Claudette..."

BLAM! 

Claudette and Finn both pulled apart from each other as their hazy gaze's cleared on the sight of Arthur, "What the fuck were you two doin?" both Claudette and Finn were lost for words and lies to come up with, 

"We were-"

"Fuckin snoggin, wait till Tommy 'ears about this." Arthur laughed, "Family meetin, by the way," he left as Claudette giggled,

 "Get dressed..." Polly said, walking by, her cigarette in hand,

 "And before you two get any more ideas, separate rooms!"

1925 12th Of January

Dear, Elle

I did get your gift. Unfortunately, I won't be able to make it to the states just yet, but I  hope you've gotten my gift. Claudette told me you're only a day younger than me. I find that ironic, or maybe it's fate, as Pol would say. Either way, things have been getting worse since Luca arrived. It seems he and your aunt partnered off and attacked Virginia with someone else by their side until she's safe. Ada has commanded her to stay here, and I've learned they're secretly together. However,  enough about business. 

Flo tells me you're flourishing in New York, making quite the name for The Black Pearl company. I'm proud of you and wish I could see it. I've gotten on Ms. Jessie Eden's good side, a boxer under my belt, and on top of that, if we aren't careful, you might become an aunt and I an uncle again. Arthur caught Claudette and Finn in the middle of snogging each other's faces off, and I can't say I'm not surprised. I  don't know which to threaten first. After all, Finn is my brother, and Claudette is like a daughter to me that I hope to one day have. I can only hope you'll return to London. There's so much unfinished business that we left.

Manhattan New York

"Unsaid... from your dearest Tommy Shelby..." Eleanor sighed, laying on the floors of her penthouse in her Chanel nightgown, "Flo, did you hear that..."  the woman could hear the lovesick sigh in her voice, "You read his letter for what has it been the 6th time?" she rolled her eyes, "Can't like read some other shit," Florence asked, as Eleanor got excited, "No, no more letters," Eleanor let out a sigh, "Fine," she groaned, "Don't let me have my excitement." she huffed, a knock on her door, as a maid went to open the door, 

"Ms. Williams, it's a gift." perking up as Flo sighed. She already knew it was one of Tommy's gifts, after all. She's been right where Eleanor had, 

"Send it back..."

"Ignore her. I want to see it." running toward the door, "Ellie, this gift is going to break your-"

"It's a ring box!" 

"Heart..." she mumbled, "See, he's not giving out necklaces anymore," Flo said, watching Eleanor taking the ring out of its box. It had a golden band with a garnet in the middle and pearls surrounding it. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Taking the note card from the box, she then looked at Flo, 

"Happy birthday to the pearl in my life, Thomas Michael Shelby." she swooned harder. Flo didn't want to break her heart, for it was the happiest she'd ever seen the woman, but she couldn't let her go on like a bumbling idiot,

 "I should head back to London..."

"Luca will eat you alive."

"What if he loves me the way I love him."

" It's Romani culture to give gold. I read that somewhere," Florence responded, 

"What if he's proposing and I have time to say yes but is it too soon. It's been a year and!"

"The man's engaged to a Lizzie Stark!" 

"Oh..." Eleanor nodded, setting the ring down, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But you're a bit too late." she sighed, "But you can put it on a chain and wear it close to your heart." Eleanor nodded, 

"He can write me about family updates but not his engagement..."

"To be fair, dear, you haven't been honest either," pointing to her cheek, "I'm fine," she rasped out, "I have dinner at eight with the Barlow's and my mother." her heart was beyond breaking. It no longer existed, 

"He could've knocked her up." she shrugged, 

"That's pretty common for Tommy to do... and,"

"Silver or blue..."

"Silver, with the feathers and the diamond headdress, "Flo suggested, 

"Is fur too much?"

"Ellie, it's snowing outside,"

"So fur," she smiled, her smile tarnished into one that would be never-ending pain, 

"Do you want to talk?"

"Have you seen my cake mascara?"

"Dresser." 

"Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Necklace or no necklace..." 

"Necklace, Eleanor, you're avoiding my questions. Are you sure you're -"

" I LOVE HIM, AND FOR ONCE, I THOUGHT I HAD A REASON TO GO FUCKING HO-"

"Ms. Williams, Bernadette Willaims, and Mr. Carlton Barlow are here." taking a deep breath, she hid the ring under the neckline of her dress, 

"Mother, you've made it,"

"You look beautiful, like a bride-to-be,"  she kissed her cheeks, 

"How's that campaign about those handsome colored soldier boys going for you, Carlton..."

"Hello to you too, Florence, Eleanor. You look,"

"Radiant, breathtaking, stunning?" Bernadette asked,

"Pretty." Kissing her on the cheek as if it nearly pained him too, "Thank you, you look handsome yourself," she complimented, "Will you be joining us, Florence?" Bernadette questioned, 

"Oh, no,  I have a business to attend to, but Ellie, tell me all about the dinner," she smiled as Eleanor winked. The three walked out the door. Eleanor had been courting Carlton, who came from an old money family, the Barlow's from Louisiana, but he had his secrets, and their names were Thomas, Raymond, and Walter, but this was something Eleanor already knew, after all, she agreed to let him screw around with any man he wanted, as long as she pretended to be his loving fiance and convince his family that he was the perfect southern politician, 

"Eleanor Williams."

"Mrs. and Mr. Barlow." she sat down at the restaurant as Carlton took her fur coat off, "You must be Mrs. Williams," his father kissed her hand as she smiled, "Ms. Dupont, my husband's deceased." Bernadette sighed as Carlton looked at her, mourning the loss for her,

 "Dupont, is it Creole?" Harold asked,

"French, my mother was a -"

"French soothsayer, " Eleanor butted - in, both Carlton's parents looking at her as if they'd come across the table and smacked her, much like his sister did for her talking back to her, "You hold your tongue and let her talk," Sally glared as Eleanor nodded, 

"As you were saying?"

"She was a whore, and a Romani prophesier. She fell in love with my father, who was a rich Irish man,"

"What... an interesting bloodline." 

"Sex sells especially in Manhattan." 

"Carlton control your girl," Harold ordered. Bernadette gave him a glance as Carlton cleared his throat, 

"You know, I was thinking of a way to help our colored folks, with all the protesting happening and the rise of White Mob bosses, which all illegal crime should be stopped if you ask me."

Bernadette nearly choked on her champagne.

"I think they should all be hanged for every crime they've committed and every sin they've done." Sally smirked, looking over at Eleanor, "Don't you agree."

"I think we're all sinners in the eyes of God, and sometimes I think the worst sinners are the ones who doubt that they aren't." lighting her cigarette and waving over the waitress,

 "Ms. Williams, we didn't expect you here tonight, checking on the club, Ma'am."

"No, just taking out the family," both Harold and Sally looking at the young woman. Bernadette looked frightened for her daughter as if she'd had maybe made the wrong choice,

 "Ay, I see. will it be an Irish Whiskey, Scotch, or-"

"Give me your best Gin," she winked, watching the man walk away,

"Ladies don't own dance halls, and they don't drink Gin-"

"They don't tell me how I raised my daughter either," Bernadette growled. Eleanor fiddled with the ring around her neck as the light glistened. Bernadette knew it all too well. It was her mother's engagement ring that she gave to Vadoma for safekeeping, but how did it get from where she was seeking camp to New York, 

"Lovely ring," Harold smiled, "Did Carlton get it for you?"

"No, it was a birthday gift from a good friend." Eleanor smiled as she held the bottle, 

"Distilled for the Eradication of Seemingly Incurable Sadness."  

"Is the Gin not to your liking,"

"I think I'm going back to England..." Eleanor smiled, 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XVII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader and Zemo try to figure out what’s next.

Note: Hey, I banged this out quicker than expected. This part went longer than I expected to not as much happened as I thought hahaha. But here we go, again.(I will try to update the masterlist asap)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Two Summers Later

The sun raised beads of sweat across your brow, even in the shadow of the tree. A gentle breeze rolled over the grass now and again, a soft sort of heat. You laid across the blanket in your thin dress, a subtle movement beside you, low babbling and grasping fingers. You breathed in the scent of pollen and watched the lush leaves sway above.

The footsteps were light but he was careful not to frighten you. The baby girl murmured, over a year old now. She stood, unsteadily, and he caught her before she stumbled too far. His shadow loomed above you as he lifted Elina and smiled at her round cheeks.

“How is my little baroness?” he cooed as he bounced her and her gibberish grew louder as she grabbed at his pale tunic, “my lady?” he peered down at you, “you look… serene.”

“She likes to watch the cloud but it’s much too bright today,” you sat up and grabbed your cane from against the trunk. Lord Zemo offered his hand and helped you to your feet, “so we have watched the bloom instead.”

“She is getting big. More agile,” he commented as she tugged at his beard. He’d grown it over the winter but hadn’t cut it even in the heat. She liked to pet it and you suspected that was the reason for his obstinacy, “how will you keep up with her?”

“I have learned,” you poked him with the tip of your cane, “still learning.”

“Very quickly,” he praised, “the accent is better,” he pinched two fingers together, “I almost believe you a woman of this land.”

“Sometimes I believe it myself,” you went to the bench and sat heavily. Your hip never healed quite as it had been before so you limped with the carved wood capped with silver and made the best of it, “bring her here,” you set the can aside and pulled the thin scarf over your shoulders, “she should eat.”

“I told you, a wet nurse would do her better,” he neared and handed her over after a final peck on her cheek, “and she is getting older. She eats at the table now.”

“She will have some proper food when we get in,” you covered her against your chest and unlaced the front of your gown, “I like having her close.”

He nodded and paced through the grass. He removed his silk cap and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He was anxious as of late, you noticed only because it was an unusual trait for him. He sighed as he tucked his hat into his belt.

“Would you tell me?” you asked sharply as Elina latched.

“Tell you what?” he tilted his head coyly.

“What makes you uneasy?” you urged.

The tugging in your chest calmed you as you cradled your daughter close. When she was born, that had been difficult. She reminded you of her father then but now she was yours. She was the only gift he’d ever given you.

“It is… complicated,” he said with a frown, “I think it best we put the child down before we talk on it.”

“If you wish,” you relented, “Werner says she is doing well. I went to him this morning.”

“And you?” Zemo crossed his arms, “does he say you are doing well?”

You kept one arm around Elina and unthinkingly brushed the scar that stretched from your hairline to your chin, a rippled line along your cheek, one of a dozen markers of that fateful day. You still dreamed of it but they weren’t so much nightmares as vague memories.

“I will need the cane so long as I live,” you said and dropped your arm back under the scarf, “the scars will fade but not entirely. I suppose none of that matters.”

He nodded and rubbed his chin as he began to pace again, “back from the dead,” he mused, “we have a legend here, about a woman, a queen…” he went on, “she married a king who did not love her nor she him. He wanted another and he was… quite intent on it. So he accused her of adultery and witchery and passed on her the harshest sentence; she was drawn and quartered, pulled apart by horses.

“We have since done away with such punishments, too savage, but the legend goes that they buried the parts of her and the king married his lover on her grave. The gods saw it as an affront, the lies, the trial held in their names, the death imparted in the same vein, and then a mocking marriage on the site of their sins…

“In her casket, her body reformed though she still showed the signs of her fate. She climbed out of her resting place and visited her king in the night. She’d never done that before you see because he had no love for her, he never even tried, and she tore him piece by piece, worse even then the horses. Fingers, toes, tongue… balls, every bit of him plucked little by little until he was nothing.

“The legend never did say where she went after that, her grave was found disturbed and her body gone. Those women who suffer with violent or cruel men, they pray to her, they burn candles for her, and even, they kill their men for her.”

“Why are you saying all this?” you interrupted as you wiped up your chest and clumsily tied up the laces of your dress as Elina slobbered down it.

“Because I see you are reformed like the queen but I wonder, where is your sense of vengeance?”

You were quiet as you fixed your dress and lifted Elina above the scarf to pat her back. Soon she would no longer take the nipple and you were stubborn to keep it up for so long but the time passed and the thought of separation frightened you. Soon she would be old enough to realise how odd everything was and she would ask questions. You weren’t sure if you could ever answer them.

“Take her please,” you held her out and he came to lift her. He set her down on her feet instead and held her hand as she took some steps. She grew more bold by the minute. He bent as he ushered her around. You planted your cane in the ground and stood, “vengeance,” you said carefully, “I remember you warned me not to trust you, is that why? Are you ready to use me against him?”

“I always knew you were clever,” he smiled as Elina bent her legs and bounced in place. He chuckled at her and suddenly scooped her up. He tossed her and caught her as she trilled in excitement, “the time comes closer but the path is not clearer.”

You watched him as he stilled your daughter and balanced her against his side, “I don’t know if I can ever face him again,” you confessed.

“That is not what I ask,” he said, “it is not what I intend but...the winds begin to blow and I must let them carry me.”

You followed him as he set off towards the castle, The Tower Zemo, a bastion of brick among the grasslands. It was so tall one could see for miles in any direction and it could be seen in turn from just as far. He was patient as your cane plunked down after each step and he made silly faces at Elina.

“You have bided me longer than I expected. And her,” you said as you approached the open doors of the castle. The stairs were another task but you’d learned to take them with your hip.

“Her? You think I forsake her her father? She is nothing like him,” he replied as he waited at the tip of the steps, “and she is all the good parts of you. All that he didn’t take.”

“I am indebted to you, I am aware of that, but you do not attempt to collect your dues,” you challenged as you came level to him, “it makes me wary.”

“Would it be too… ridiculous to say that she is payment enough,” he smiled at your daughter, “she has brightened many of my days here.”

“It is because I know how things are. How it works among you noblemen,” you countered, “there is something more you want.”

“Tess,” he called and the pudgy maid appeared, “she is hungry, see that she is fed before she is laid down.”

“My lord,” Tess took the child eagerly and poked her nose playfully, “come here, little poppy.”

You watched her go as she began to sing to Elina. Her voice carried through the corridors as her wide hips swayed and her white hair wisped from under her cap. The old woman had seen your daughter into the world and since helped keep her there.

“So what is it you haven’t told me?” you turned on Zemo.

“Wouldn’t you like to sit?” he asked slyly.

“You are welcome to recline, sir, but I would hear you now. I’ve waited long enough,” you insisted.

“Well…” he took a deep breath and walked ahead of you. He turned back and clapped his hand together as the summer flowed in through the open doors, “I must send you away.”

“Send me away?” you gulped and looked to the door which Tess had just taken your daughter through.

“You will have Elina, I am not heartless,” he said, “though I will miss the little baroness.”

“Where are we going?” you quivered in relief.

“I have a castle on the lake, Heinrich’s Creek,” he explained, “it is a lovely little place. My mother’s favourite of my family’s holds. It is far away from court, further than this, and safe. Only my blood knows where it lies and… so only me and those who I would have escort you.”

“And why? Why do we have to go? Why now?” you prodded.

“I have received a letter from your King Samuel, co-signed by my own king. A party is on the road already and I have been once more tasked with hosting the negotiations. Your people are persistent. They will come here and I will represent the kingdom in these meetings and hopefully I can appease them quick enough that I needn’t worry about them sniffing around,” Zemo bristled, “I have not been allowed the privilege to know of who I host but any in the capital for the tournament, they would know the woman who gave them such a violent finale.”

“And after?”

“We will see how it unfolds first. It will be a chance to gain a measure of the climate. I might even hear after your former keeper, then I will decide what needs be done,” his dark eyes narrowed as mischief ticked in his cheek.

“Why?” you asked, “why cling to it?”

“I am as stubborn as he,” he said carefully, “I was willing to set it aside but he could not. And, my lady, if you haven’t the fire left for your vengeance then I can simply take it upon my own wrath. 

“Perhaps it is low of me but how he treated me, how he chased me out even if it did prove convenient to my deceit, it cannot be forgotten. And your people, the war I fought against them, they come to us for help and yet they still boast of their victory. I was there, no one won those battles.”

“So it is all a game of war?”

“Oh, no, I do not long for another war but… retribution leaves few options for the wronged,” he said.

You lowered your chin and moved around him. You sat on the stool by the wall and leaned back against the stone. “And if it put Elina in danger?”

“That is the last thing I want to do. That is why I would send you away.”

“But you said it yourself, you will have need for me… what then?”

He sniffed and his sole scuffed on the floor, “I promised you Elina’s safety, her life. You knew yours wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I know but… if you--”

“I have friends who can see to the girl. I have made arrangements for the little baroness.”

“But--”

“It was never a title I gave her lightly,” he intoned, “she has noble blood and I have no heir. She will grow, she will live, she will flourish.”

You gripped your cane tightly and ran your nails along your skirt, “when do we leave?”

“Within the month. The party will not be here so soon, their progress will be hampered by the heat. There are droughts in the west.”

“And we will be safe at the Creek?”

“Impenetrable,” he assured, “enjoy your time there with your daughter.”

“While it lasts, right?” you uttered.

He looked away grimly and brushed his knuckles against this beard, “we both knew this wouldn’t go on forever.”

“Yes, we knew,” you stood and held your hip, “but you can’t blame me for hoping it would.”

[elizabethshelby]

The Making of Elizabeth Shelby ch 3

Thank you, Ruby and Charlie, for your note. I love you too, my little loves. And no you may not join the peaky blinders this young! I’ll have a talk with your father. He will say that you two have better things to worry about like your violin lessons, Charlie or Ruby, your school work! Your teacher phoned and said you haven’t completed your last 2 assignments, get those done and maybe we will talk about you going to Charlie’s yard and Charles, you can go show curly your new book about horses.

Dear children,

As I spent more time with the Shelby’s, I learned I had a talent for stealing while talking to people, no need for the group effort of the Shelby’s if the mark was one person. I never knew I could do this and take care of my family. The money we stole, we split it evenly among ourselves. The extra shillings we got from selling gold, or the actual coin we took helped me take care of mother and sister. Even for simple pleasures like a tin of biscuits, we could never afford that before but now we could. Shoes that weren’t to small for me or hand me downs from Mrs. Bird across the way, I got me mum a new hair pin, one that kept her hair in place while she worked at the factory. Helen’s love got her so many gifts she wasn’t without much but I was able to get her this purse she’s been eyeing at the dress shop. such simple pleasures that I could afford and it made me feel good doing something nice for them. I wasn’t lil Lizzie running around causing trouble, I was Lizzie that helped mom put food on the table.

Remember I said, I had a talent for stealing while talking to my mark. Well that didn’t go unnoticed and who noticed? Your father. He would follow me when I did it, while away from the Shelby’s. I wasn’t trying to make it a secret but I wanted to do something for myself and I didn’t have time for the group discussion that usually happened. After doing it for a while, this one week I could feel those cold blue eyes watching my every move, I would turn and no one would be there but deep down I knew he had followed me.

I walked up to my door when I heard “oy, Lizzie I know what you been doing behind our back” I just froze, his voice wasn't the voice I knew, it was angry, he had a deeper tone and that terrified me. Slowly I turned, I was scared but I couldn’t let Thomas Shelby know I turned with confidence and a higher tone then usual “What have I been doing?, What have you been doing, following me this past week trying to sneak up on me?” His expression changed instead of eagerness and confidence quickly faded to guilt when he knew he got caught. The silence felt everlasting, so I spoke up “what I’ve been doing when I’m not with you and your brothers aren’t your concern” “ that’s true Liz’s but I saw you how are able to do it without help, I was curious how you could do that” I looked at him shocked, The Thomas Shelby asking how I did something. Your father can do many things and he’s always one step ahead of everyone, the one time he was vulnerable. Not too vulnerable after all he taught me how to steal but asking how I could do it a different way then what he was used to. I grabbed him by the hand and said “I’ll show you”

Who was an easy mark I thought to myself? Oh I knew there was a girl who lived on Bristol that had lots of male visitors. Me and your dad went to Bristol lane. There was a man, he was young so I knew I could get him talking and he dressed sharp, that meant he was rich. I asked him since he came along he needed to help and that meant he had to come get me in 2 minutes and pretend I was his sister. I walked over looking for Ms. Riley or so the man thought, “excuse me sir, have you seen Ms.Riley? She has dark straight and very fair skin” the man looked at me hesitantly, I smiled at him “your not from around her are you, you don’t know who I’m talking about” the man chuckled and said “sorry I don’t know who your talking about but your right I’m not from around here” he lied to me about not knowing Mrs. Riley but I didn’t care. I said ”if you are a speaker in the house or work with the king himself you better leave, you look to fancy to be here, small heath is not kind to strangers.” He looked at me and said he’ll be fine. Fine? The way he spoke was no longer light hearted but with a small hint of cockiness and anger. I gave your dad the signal to come bump me “Anna there you are, dads calling us home” Anna? I didn’t know he was going to use a different name so I panicked a little but quickly gathered myself up “I have to go sir but if you see a girl with dark hair and pale skin let her know Anna’s mum needs her biscuit tin back” I reached out to shake his hand and your dad bumped into me”we have to hurry let’s go” with that bump I was able to take off his gold watch that was around his wrist. Not my best work but I was nervous, your dad made me nervous.

After we ran around the corner so excited, this was the most expensive thing I’ve taken, Tommy couldn’t believe the ease I did it with. Once we caught our breath he smiled at me, it wasn’t his devilish smirk but a smile, he was impressed. Ever since that day we would go off just ourselves away from the group and do it again, and again, always to Ms. Rileys on Bristol. Sometimes the men would find out instantly and we had to run. Run away and run fast always to Charlie’s yard, Tommy would say “up ahead turn left, my uncles scrap yard is up there” that’s how I met Charlie, running away from a fat old man, Charlie pushed him out of the way to close the gates and threaten to cut him if he came any closer. Tommy and me began to grow closer not only because of the stealing but we would go all over small heath exploring, he would show me all around Charlie’s yard,teaching me how to ride a horse, playing on boats. I would show him all my favorite places, the park, the factories where the men would give you free cigarettes, watching the different cattle and seeing them auctioned off.

He was different when he wasn’t with his brothers or Ada. When he was with them he wouldn’t talk at all but everything he felt or wanted to say he did, through his eyes. When we were together he wouldn’t stop talking, he talked about growing up in the mountains riding horses, the freedom he felt, he talked about his mom but rarely,not as much as John. He said she was beautiful and I sort of looked like her since I was tall and thin and had dark hair.

Children, your father now is not the same Tommy I grew up with. The war hadn’t changed him yet, his friends didn’t die right in front of him, he didn’t have to fight and claw his way through the working man example. He loves you both and I’m trying to help you understand the good and softness that he once had.

Charlie would help us with selling the watches and getting our pounds and shillings, and now this was real. The money in my hand I felt invincible, that's why I could buy Helen’s purse, me mum the hair pin, and me my favorite tin of biscuits and new shoes. It felt good. Tommy was using the pounds to help cover his siblings' mischief. We had an inside secret that we were the smartest out of all of them, well John and Arthur, Ada was always too smart for her own good and for us.

Notes: my first ever tommylizzie fanfic

Done from Lizzie’s pov

I changed their ages slightly

Hope you enjoy😁

[wolfish-trickster]

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

*

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

*

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

*

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

[zmaragdos]

Pridie Idus Aprilis | April 12th

Here are the Games of Ceres. There is no need for an excuse by an Omen: it is evident that the Public Shows have been earned unaided by the Goddess.

Fresh grasses, which the Earth gave with no tampering, were bread to the First Mortals. Long ago they gathered long-lived herbs from the turf, now dishes are the just the tips of tender leaves. Presently the acorn has grown: indeed, it was good when the acorn was discovered: the hardy oak has splendid resources. Ceres first changed this by calling humans to better nourishment. She exchanged acorns for useful food.

She gathered bulls together to hold out their necks to the yoke: then the Earth, having been upturned, saw its first sunlight. Copper was in vogue then, iron ore was unknown: alas, that stuff should be hidden forever. Ceres delights in peace. Tell us, farmers, about continuous peace and a peace-making leader. It is permitted that you might devote an offering, spelt and leaping grains, to the Goddess, and that you might place incense in the ancient altar. If incense is unavailable, set a resinous pine torch alight. Little efforts, let them be only innocent, satisfy Kind Ceres.

Remove the knife of girded attendants from the cow; let the cow plough. Sacrifice the lazy sow. A neck suitable for the yoke must not be struck with a death blow: she might live and might often work the tough soil.

This very subject, the Kidnapping of the Girl, is examined. You will recognize most of it, and might be taught little new:

‘The Sicilian land juts out into the sea with three tall promontories, and has attained its place name from its position. It is the dear home of Ceres, though She has occupied many cities, among whom Henna is fertile with cultivated soil. Cold Arethusa had summoned the Mothers of the Gods, and the Golden Goddess had come to the Holy Feast. Her daughter, when accompanying Her, was with her usual girls, and was wandering through her own meadows on bare feet. Close to the shady valley is a place wet with the continuous spray of water leaping down from high above. So many colors, as many as nature contains, had been at that place, and the painted Earth shone with different types of flowers. As soon as Persephone caught sight of this place, she said: “Ladies, come here and carry dress-skirts full of flowers back home with me.”

Idle plunder enticed girlish thoughts and no exertion was experienced by the assiduous attendants. This girl fills baskets woven out of pliant willow. This girl fills her lap, she weighs down the loose folds. That girl gathers marigolds, violet beds are the concern of this girl. That girl clips poppy heads with her nails. You, iris, fascinate these girls; you, amaranth, entertain those girls. Part love wild thyme, part love the rose, part love yellow clover. Roses had been gathered the most, and there were flowers without names, too. Persephone herself picked fine crocus and white lilies. Gathering her flowers with enthusiasm, she had been gradually walking further away, and by chance no attendants had followed their mistress.

Her father’s brother saw her, and having been aware of her, swiftly snatched her away. On horses the color of Dusk, he brought her into his own Kingdoms. It is true she cried out: “Ah! Dearest mother, I am being kidnapped!” She tore at her voluminous clothes, but nevertheless a road opened up out of the ground for Pluto; for indeed his horses, unaccustomed to being above ground, experienced daylight with difficulty.

Look now, the uniform troop of attendants, with wicker baskets overloaded with flowers, shout: “Persephone! I’m back with your gifts!” When the Girl they had been calling remains silent, they fill the mountain with wailing and strike their naked chests with sorrowful hands.

Ceres was astounded by the wailing (She had only just gotten to Henna), but without delay: “I am so distraught!” She said. “My daughter, where are you?”

She was stolen. And so Ceres was in need of a plan, pacing like the Thracian Bacchants we are used to hearing stories about, with Her hair in disarray, groaning as a mother-cow does when her calf is stolen from her udder, searching for her offspring in every grove. Just like the cow, the Goddess does not restrain Her groaning, and deeply upset by running around, She began Her search in your fields, Henna. From there, She happened upon the footprints of a girlish sole. She saw the Earth had been stamped with a familiar weight. Perhaps that day might have been the last of Her wandering, if pigs had not muddied the clues She had discovered.

Next, She passed at speed through Leotini and the Amenana River, as well as your banks, grassy Aci. She overtook Cyane and the Spring of Gentle Anapus. And you Gela (one must not go near the whirlpools.) She left Ortygia, Megarea, and Pantagia, by whom the Sea accepts the Symaethean Waters. She had been putting off the Caves of the Cyclopes with their forges having been set just-so. That place makes the fame of curved sickles. Both Himera and Didymen, both Akraga and Tauromenus. And Melan, the cheerful pasture of the Holy Cows. From here She entered Camerinan, and Thapson and Heloria Tempe, by whom Eryx is situated, forever exposed to the West Wind. And next She had traversed Peloriades and Lilybaea, then Pachynon, the Three Horns of Her own land.

She filled wherever she walked, every region, with her pitiful cries and queries, as the bird wails when Itys has been lost. Now she shouts “Persephone!” then “Daughter!” one after the other. She shouts and alternately calls one name or the other. But neither does Persephone hear Ceres nor the daughter her mother, and alternately one name, then the other, is lost. She had one question, if perhaps she might see a shepherd protecting his fields: “Has a girl hurried this way with anyone?”

By then one color stained reality, and darkness hid everything, indeed even the watchful dogs became silent. Tall Mt. Etna is situated over the mouth of titanic Typhoeus, the ground of which is burned by his vomited fire. There she lights twin pine branches for torches (it is for this reason why nowadays pine torches are also devoted to the shrines of Ceres).

There is a rugged cave, constructed of worn-away pumice, a place which submits neither to man nor beast, to which she came, and then, at once she harnessed restrained serpents to her chariot, and dry, she roamed over the sea-waters. She escaped Syrtes, the great sandbank, and you, Zanclean Charybdis, and you, Nisaean Hounds, the shipwreck monsters. She extensively searched the open Adriatic and Corinth-between-Two-Seas: in this way she came to your harbors, Attic country. Here, she sat, most sorrowful, for the first time, on a cold boulder (nowadays, too, the Athenians call it the Sad Rock.)

In the open air, She waited, motionless, for many days, unyielding to the Moon and to Rain Water. Luck is theirs in this place: now it is named the Eleusis of Ceres, here were the lands of Old Celeus. He carried acorns and berries knocked off the bramble bushes, and dry wood to be burned on the hearth. His young daughter was driving two she-goats from the mountain, and his delicate son was sick in his cradle.

“Mother!” said the girl (the goddess was startled by the name of ‘Mother’) “What are you doing all by yourself in this lonely place?” And the older man stopped, although he was burdened with his cargo, and begs that She might go under the roof of his house, however small.

She refuses, impersonating an old woman and wrapping up Her hair in a turban. She turns back to the insistent man and mentions such things: “May you always be a lucky parent! My daughter was stolen from me. Alas! Your fortune is better than my fate!” She said, and a bright droplet like tears (for in fact, it is not possible for the Gods to weep) fell into Her warm skirt-lap. The sensitive girl and old man wept together with passion, out of which there came these words from the proper old man: “Yes. May your daughter, who you search for and who has been snatched away from you, be safe and sound. Stand up, and do not disdain the roof of my little cottage.”

To whom the Goddess said “Leader! You have discovered the words by which you are able to compel me.” And She lifted herself from the rock and closely followed the old man. The leader told his companion how his sick son is: he does not experience sleep, and is kept awake by illness.

She plucks a sleepy and soft poppy from the wild ground, just as they are about to enter the little house. As She picks, the flower is allowed to be tasted, with her judgement having been forgotten, and unthinking, She was allowed to lay aside Her long fast. Because of this the Principal set aside Her hunger at night, and the Priests of Her Mysteries regard star-rise as the time of food.

When she entered the house, she saw mourning filling everything: by then there was no hope of life or health in the boy. With the mother having been greeted (the mother was named Metanira), She thought the childish mouth worthy to be joined with Her own. His pallor fled, and they saw unexpected energy in his body. Such a great force came from the mouth of the deity. The entire house was joyous, by him were mother and father and daughter: these three were the whole household. Afterwards, a feast was set out: rennet softened with milk, fruits, and golden honey in its own waxy cells. Kind Ceres abstained: She gave poppies, the cause of sleep, to you, boy, to be drunk with warm milk.

It was the middle of the night and there was the silence of mellow sleep. She lifted the boy, Triptolemus, into Her own lap. Three times She gently rubbed him with Her hand, three times She sang verses, songs not meant to be repeated with mortal sounds. She buried the body of the boy in the hearth, among the surviving embers, so that the fire might remove his burden of mortality. Foolishly, his devoted mother was roused from sleep and frantic, she exclaimed: "What are you doing?!” and snatched his limbs from the fire. The goddess said to her: “While you are not wicked, you have done harmful things: my gifts are made useless by a mother’s anxiety. Certainly, that boy will be mortal, but he will also be the first to plough, and to sow seed and to build up a profit from cultivating the land.”

She spoke and departed, dragging down a cloud and going over to Her serpents. Ceres is lifted up on Her winged chariot. She forsakes exposed Sunion and the safe Piraean harbors, and the coast lying to the right of its entrance, by Her departure. From here She enters the Aegean Sea, in whom She sees all the Cyclades, and She wanders through the Ionic Sea, and the greedy Icarian Sea. She proceeds through the cities of Asia, the vast Hellespontus Sea, and in these regions She, high above, roams a back-and-forth course. Just now She looks down on the incense-gathering Arabs, then the Indus River. From here Libya, from there Meroe, among the dry land. Now she approaches the West: the Rhine, and Rhone, and Po Rivers, and you, Tiber, parent-to-be of a powerful water.

By whom am I conducted? It is impossible to list all the lands She wandered over: there is no place in the world neglected by Ceres.

And so She wanders among the atmosphere, free of the flowing sea, addressing the nearest constellation in the frosty heavens.

“Arcadian stars (for indeed you are able to know all things since you never sink beneath the sea waters), show My daughter Persephone to Me, a miserable parent!” she said, to which the Great Bear brought the following words:

“Night is free from fault; consult the Sun about your stolen girl, he who sees far and wide the things done in the daytime.”

The Sun, having been approached by Ceres, said: “I know what you seek. Your distress is not in vain: she commands the Third Realm, having been married to the brother of Jupiter.”

She wailed with Herself for a long while.

She accosts the Thunderer likewise. There were the greatest signs of suffering in Her expression: “If You remember from whom My Persephone originated, she ought to have half of Your concern. By wandering through the world, I have learned of only the injustice of the act that was done: her rapist gets to have the reward of marriage. And neither is Persephone deserving of a conjugal thief, nor should Our son-in-law be provided to us in this manner. Would have I, captured by Gyges the Conqueror, endured worse things than what I now put up with in the Kingdom of the Sky with You in charge? Let the truth move on, unpunished, We, unavenged, will endure this; but let Him return her and correct His previous action with new ones.”

Jupiter calms her, and apologizes for the things that have been done, with love: “That son-in-law is not shameful for Us,” he said. “I am not more high-born than He: My Kingdom has been placed in the Sky, another occupies the Waters, and the last the empty Lower World. But if, by chance, your feelings-heart is not changeable and stands to break the bond of a wedding bed having been joined but once, by this, too, let us try, if only she, fasting, has endured; if she has eaten even a little, she will be the wife of the Underground Spouse.”

Mercury Caducifer having been commanded approaches Tartarus with his wings having been taken up. And with Hope, he more swiftly returns, and reports the fixed things having been seen:

“The abducted girl,” he said, “has dissolved her hunger with three seeds, which the purple-pomegranate fruit hides with a flexible rind.”

She has not felt less grief, than if the girl might have been just stolen. The Parent in Mourning, having been scarcely comforted takes a long pause, and She said as follows: “You command me, too, to be taken back by the Infernal Valley.”

And She was about to do it, unless Jupiter might make a bargain, so that that Girl might live two-times three months in the Heavens. Only then does Ceres regain both countenance and spirit and has replaced the corn wreathes in her hair. And a plentiful harvest has appeared in the fields having been delayed; and the threshing-ground can hardly grasp the riches having been collected. White is becoming of Ceres: don white clothing for the Cerialia: now the use of a dusky-mourning fleece is avoided.

—

Hinc Cereris ludi. non est opus indice causae;

sponte deae munus promeritumque patet.

panis erat primis virides mortalibus herbae,

quas tellus nullo sollicitante dabat;

et modo carpebant vivax e cespite gramen,

nunc epulae tenera fronde cacumen erant,

postmodo glans nata est: bene erat iam glande reperta,

duraque magnificas quercus habebat opes.

prima Ceres homine ad meliora alimenta vocato

mutavit glandes utiliore cibo.

illa iugo tauros collum praebere coegit:

tunc primum soles eruta vidit humus.

aes erat in pretio, chalybeia massa latebat:

eheu! perpetuo debuit illa tegi.

pace Ceres laeta est; et vos orate, coloni,

perpetuam pacem pacificumque ducem,

farra deae micaeque licet salientis honorem

detis et in veteres turea grana focos,

et, si tura aberunt, unctas accendite taedas:

parva bonae Cereri, sint modo casta, placent,

a bove succincti cultros removete ministri:

bos aret; ignavam sacrificate suem.

apta iugo cervix non est ferienda securi:

vivat et in dura saepe laboret humo.

Exigit ipse locus, raptus ut virginis edam:

plura recognosces, pauca docendus eris.

terra tribus scopulis vastum procurrit in aequor

Trinacris, a positu nomen adepta loci,

grata domus Cereri, multas ea possidet urbes,

in quibus est culto fertilis Henna solo.

frigida caelestum matres Arethusa vocarat:

venerat ad sacras et dea flava dapes.

filia, consuetis ut erat comitata puellis,

errabat nudo per sua prata pede.

valle sub umbrosa locus est aspergine multa

uvidus ex alto desilientis aquae.

tot fuerant illic, quot habet natura, colores,

pictaque dissimili flore nitebat humus.

quam simul aspexit, ‘comites, accedite’ dixit

‘et mecum plenos flore referte sinus.’

praeda puellares animos prolectat inanis,

et non sentitur sedulitate labor.

haec implet lento calathos e vimine nexos,

haec gremium, laxos degravat illa sinus:

illa legit calthas, huic sunt violaria curae,

illa papavereas subsecat ungue comas:

has, hyacinthe, tenes; illas, amarante, moraris:

pars thyma, pars rorem, pars meliloton amat.

plurima lecta rosa est, sunt et sine nomine flores;

ipsa crocos tenues liliaque alba legit,

carpendi studio paulatim longius itur,

et dominam casu nulla secuta comes.

hanc videt et visam patruus velociter aufert

regnaque caeruleis in sua portat equis,

illa quidem clamabat ‘io, carissima mater,

auferor!’ ipsa suos abscideratque sinus:

panditur interea Diti via, namque diurnum

lumen inadsueti vix patiuntur equi.

at chorus aequalis, cumulatis flore canistris,

‘Persephone,’ clamant ‘ad tua dona veni!’

ut clamata silet, montes ululatibus implent

et feriunt maesta pectora nuda manu.

attonita est plangore Ceres (modo venerat Hennam)

nec mora, ‘me miseram! filia,’ dixit ‘ubi es?’

mentis inops rapitur, quales audire solemus

Threicias fusis maenadas ire comis,

ut vitulo mugit sua mater ab ubere rapto

et quaerit fetus per nemus omne suos:

sic dea nec retinet gemitus et concita cursu

fertur et a campis incipit, Henna, tuis.

inde puellaris nacta est vestigia plantae

et pressam noto pondere vidit humum;

forsitan illa dies erroris summa fuisset,

si non turbassent signa reperta sues.

iamque Leontinos Amenanaque flumina cursu

praeterit et ripas, herbifer Aci, tuas;

praeterit et Cyanen et fontes lenis Anapi

et te, verticibus non adeunde Gela.

liquerat Ortygien Megareaque Pantagienque,

quaque Symaetheas accipit aequor aquas,

antraque Cyclopum positis exusta caminis,

quique locus curvae nomina falcis habet,

Himeraque et Didymen Acragantaque Tauromenumque

sacrarumque Melan pascua laeta boum.

hinc Camerinan adit Thapsonque et Heloria Tempe.

quaque iacet Zephyro semper apertus Eryx.

iamque Peloriadem Lilybaeaque, iamque Pachynon

lustrarat, terrae cornua trina suae.

quacumque ingreditur, miseris loca cuncta querellis

implet, ut amissum cum gemit ales Ityn,

perque vices modo ‘Persephone!’ modo ‘filia!’ clamat,

clamat et alternis nomen utrumque ciet.

sed neque Persephone Cererem nec filia matrem

audit, et alternis nomen utrumque perit;

unaque, pastorem vidisset an arva colentem,

vox erat ‘hac gressus ecqua puella tufit?’

iam color unus inest rebus, tenebrisque teguntur

omnia, iam vigiles conticuere canes:

alta iacet vasti super ora Typhoeos Aetne,

cuius anhelatis ignibus ardet humus;

illic accendit geminas pro lampade pinus:

hinc Cereris sacris nunc quoque taeda datur.

est specus exesi structura pumicis asper,

non homini regio, non adeunda ferae:

quo simul ac venit, frenatos curribus angues

iungit et aequoreas sicca pererrat aquas,

effugit et Syrtes et te, Zanclaea Charybdis,

et vos, Nisaei, naufraga monstra, canes,

Hadriacumque patens late bimaremque Corinthum:

sic venit ad portus, Attica terra, tuos.

hic primum sedit gelido maestissima saxo:

illud Cecropidae nunc quoque triste vocant.

sub Iove duravit multis inmota diebus,

et lunae patiens et pluvialis aquae,

fors sua cuique loco est: quod nunc Cerialis Eleusin

dicitur, hoc Celei rura fuere senis.

ille domum glandes excussaque mora rubetis

portat et arsuris arida ligna focis.

filia parva duas redigebat monte capellas,

et tener in cunis filius aeger erat.

‘mater!’ ait virgo (mota est dea nomine matris)

‘quid facis in solis incomitata locis?’

restitit et senior, quamvis onus urget, et orat,

tecta suae subeat quantulacumque casae.

illa negat, simularat anum mitraque capillos

presserat. instanti talia dicta refert:

‘sospes eas semperque parens! mihi filia rapta est.

heu, melior quanto sors tua sorte mea est!’

dixit, et ut lacrimae (neque enim lacrimare deorum est)

decidit in tepidos lucida gutta sinus,

flent pariter molles animis virgoque senexque;

e quibus haec iusti verba fuere senis:

‘sic tibi, quam raptam quaeris, sit filia sospes,

surge nec exiguae despice tecta casae.’

cui dea ‘duc!’ inquit ‘scisti, qua cogere posses,’

seque levat saxo subsequiturque senem,

dux comiti narrat, quam sit sibi filius aeger

nec capiat somnos invigiletque malis.

illa soporiferum, parvos initura penates,

colligit agresti lene papaver humo;

dum legit, oblito fertur gustasse palato

longamque imprudens exsoluisse famem.

quae quia principio posuit ieiunia noctis,

tempus habent mystae sidera visa cibi.

limen ut intravit, luctus videt omnia plena:

iam spes in puero nulla salutis erat.

matre salutata (mater Metanira vocatur)

iungere dignata est os puerile suo.

pallor abit, subitasque vident in corpore vires:

tantus caelesti venit ab ore vigor.

tota domus laeta est, hoc est materque paterque

nataque: tres illi tota fuere domus.

mox epulas ponunt, liquefacta coagula lacte

pomaque et in ceris aurea mella suis.

abstinet alma Ceres somnique papavera causas

dat tibi cum tepido lacte bibenda, puer.

noctis erat medium placidique silentia somni:

Triptolemum gremio sustulit illa suo

terque manu permulsit eum, tria carmina dixit,

carmina mortali non referenda sono,

inque foco corpus pueri vivente favilla

obruit, humanum purget ut ignis onus.

excutitur somno stulte pia mater et amens

‘quid facis?’ exclamat membraque ab igne rapit.

cui dea ‘dum non es’ dixit ‘scelerata, fuisti:

inrita materno sunt mea dona metu.

iste quidem mortalis erit, sed primus arabit

et seret et culta praemia tollet humo.’

dixit et egrediens nubem trahit inque dracones

transit et alifero tollitur axe Ceres.

Sunion expositum Piraeaque tuta recessu

linquit et in dextrum quae iacet ora latus.

hinc init Aegaeum, quo Cycladas aspicit omnes,

Ioniumque rapax Icariumque legit,

perque urbes Asiae longum petit Hellespontum,

diversumque locis alta pererrat iter.

nam modo turilegos Arabas, modo despicit Indos,

hinc Libys, hinc Meroe siccaque terra subest;

nunc adit Hesperios Rhenum Rhodanumque Padumque

teque, future parens, Thybri, potentis aquae,

quo feror? inmensum est erratas dicere terras:

praeteritus Cereri nullus in orbe locus.

errat et in caelo liquidique inmunia ponti

adloquitur gelido proxima signa polo:

‘Parrhasides stellae (namque omnia nosse potestis,

aequoreas numquam cum subeatis aquas),

Persephonen natam miserae monstrate parenti!’

dixerat, huic Helice talia verba refert:

‘crimine nox vacua est; Solem de virgine rapta

consule, qui late facta diurna videt.’

Sol aditus ‘quam quaeris,’ ait ‘ne vana labores,

nupta Iovis fratri tertia regna tenet.’

questa diu secum, sic est adfata Tonantem,

maximaque in voltu signa dolentis erant:

‘si memor es, de quo mihi sit Proserpina nata,

dimidium curae debet habere tuae.

orbe pererrato sola est iniuria facti

cognita: commissi praemia raptor habet.

at neque Persephone digna est praedone marito,

nec gener hoc nobis more parandus erat.

quid gravius victore Gyge captiva tulissem,

quam nunc te caeli sceptra tenente tuli?

verum impune ferat, nos haec patiemur inultae;

reddat et emendet facta priora novis.’

Iuppiter hanc lenit factumque excusat amore,

‘nec gener est nobis ille pudendus’ ait.

‘non ego nobilior: posita est mihi regia caelo,

possidet alter aquas, alter inane chaos,

sed si forte tibi non est mutabile pectus,

statque semel iuncti rumpere vincla tori,

hoc quoque temptemus, siquidem ieiuna remansit;

si minus, inferni coniugis uxor erit.’

Tartara iussus adit sumptis Caducifer alis

speque redit citius visaque certa refert:

‘rapta tribus’ dixit ‘solvit ieiunia granis,

Punica quae lento cortice poma tegunt.’

non secus indoluit, quam si modo rapta fuisset,

maesta parens, longa vixque refecta mora est,

atque ita ‘nec nobis caelum est habitabile’ dixit;

‘Taenaria recipi me quoque valle iube.’

et factura fuit, pactus nisi Iuppiter esset,

bis tribus ut caelo mensibus illa foret.

tum demum voltumque Ceres animumque recepit

imposuitque suae spicea serta comae;

largaque provenit cessatis messis in arvis,

et vix congestas area cepit opes.

alba decent Cererem: vestis Cerialibus albas

sumite; nunc pulli velleris usus abest.

—

P. Ovidius Naso, “Fastorum Libri Sex,” Lib. IV 393-620

translation by@zmaragdos

[songofclarity]

Oooh, WRH/NMJ, either (1) the first moment WRH realized he had a Thing for NMJ or (2) arranged marriage AU with all the awkwardness that entails :)

Thank you for the prompt! Let's try the first moment Wen RuoHan realized he had a Thing for Nie MingJue~ I am weak for Wen RuoHan admiring Nie MingJue over something that never gets fully appreciated by anyone else, and having it happen during this occasion is just the cherry on top ❤

☀️

“It sounds like they’re preparing for war up ahead,” Wen Qing said. “Let’s turn back, Uncle.”

They walked the stone paths under the trees of the Unclean Realm with their fans fluttering in front of them. Although the day was sliding into evening, the searing heat had yet to follow suit. Yells and shouts and the ring of steel on steel grew louder as they moved along. They had passed plenty of closed doors and shut gates, nothing that would have prevented Wen RuoHan if he truly wanted to explore, but no one had stopped them strolling the open grounds which had led them to this place.

“Have you ever seen saber practice?” Wen RuoHan asked.

“Years ago when suddenly everyone had a saber for a week, but no one was shouting about it.”

“The Qinghe Nie are a fiercely prideful sect. This is how they welcome us to their discussion conferences.”

Wen Qing sighed. “Frighten us off, you mean?”

“Don't tell me some shouting has frightened you, A-Qing.”

There were few braver than she, however, and even the suggestion did not phase her. Only as they approached a stone arch and the sound of training grew louder did she show any sign of reluctance. “Where are we going?”

Wen RuoHan smiled. “We are taking a closer look.” There was very little reason to attend these conferences beyond seeing what the other sects were doing. Tradition ran deep, however, and methods rarely changed. He wasn’t expecting much, but it was Wen Qing’s first time in the Unclean Realm. A clever girl had grown up into a clever young woman, with fresh eyes that might notice what he himself did not.

Instead, she said, “Sect Leader Nie sent instructions we were to remain at our residence and the Sword Hall this week. It might be best not to push him at his first discussion conference.”

Upon taking the role of sect leader in the wake of his father's death, Nie MingJue had infamously avoided attending the discussion conferences held in Qishan, Lanling, Yunmeng, and Gusu. Only when hosting finally fell upon the Qinghe Nie in rotation did he finally relent to obligation.

Wen RuoHan couldn't blame him. Discussion conferences had become weary when Wen RuoHan had, over the years, lost interest in what his fellow leaders had to say. Their cultivation techniques crawled while all his life he had sought to run. Their management of the night hunts called for small, equal pieces for everyone to nibble upon, but it would be irresponsible of him to let his sect go hungry. And negligent of him to have traveled all this way and not stretch his legs.

“Some things never change,” Wen RuoHan said with some dry fondness as they came upon the training grounds. Dozens of young disciples in their dark, Qinghe Nie robes were paired off and in the midst of practice. Sunlight caught off the silver steel, adding flashes of light to an already aggressive display that looked, after several moments, like a dance.

The man overseeing the training stood taller than all the rest. With his robes hanging off the hips and tied at the waist, he struck a bold and handsome figure even with his eyes narrowed as the setting sun smiled on his face.

“I stand corrected,” Wen RuoHan said pleasantly, feeling the breeze off his fan more acutely. “The view has improved.”

Wen Qing frowned. For all her brilliance, weapons training for cultivation had rarely interested her as much as much as the wounds of the trainees. “The noise has not.”

Indeed, the man leading the lesson had a loud voice that would make meek disciples quiver. To Wen RuoHan’s agreement, the group at present were anything but meek as they all roared back wordlessly in affirmation to their trainer's command.

“Mind your balance!” the man shouted. “The next one who falls over will be standing on their hands and we’ll see if their feet can do better with a saber!”

“Now there is a cultivator who minds his training,” Wen RuoHan mused with a laugh. “We may have to borrow this one to ready our own for next year's conference.” Already decisions had been made to host events in Qishan along with the usual discussions. Horse racing, archery, and duels, plus poetry among others.

Wen Qing gave him a strange look. “That is Nie MingJue, Uncle. Sect Leader Nie.”

Wen RuoHan's smile froze, and then slowly fell. “Ah,” he said, shutting his fan with a soft clap, “he certainly looks nothing like his father.”

“And he's coming this way...”

“So he is. What shall we tell him?”

“...That we are going back to our rooms to have dinner. We look forward to the start of the conference in the morning.”

Wen RuoHan looked at her in surprise. “Are we now?”

“Yes.” And she had already turned away to leave.

“It would be rude of me to not greet our host now that he is here,” Wen RuoHan considered aloud as Nie MingJue walked straight through his fighting disciples to reach them on the most direct path.

Wen Qing hesitated.

“What is that expression, A-Qing?” He motioned her away with the closed fan. “If you do not want to speak with him, then go have the tea ready when I return.”

“...Yes, Uncle.”

She walked back down the path, scattering the shadows that had gathered there. He wasn't sure if she knew the way, but no doubt there would be plenty of volunteers to direct her, blessed as she was with her mother's beauty. Although, now that he thought about it, the Qinghe Nie were said to not be enchanted by beautiful things not made of steel.

“Sect Leader Wen.” Nie MingJue stood on the other side of the stone archway as if a barrier separated then. He glanced to where Wen Qing had gone before continuing, “What are you doing here alone?”

Nie MingJue certainly struck a fine figure up close with skin damp and golden from standing in the sun. Freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks and covered his ample shoulders. He still had his saber in hand, and while he had respectfully sheathed it in his approach, his grip was not relaxed. It was difficult to tell if it was heat radiating off of him or his anger.

Wen RuoHan smiled. “Alone? Do I not still have your Nie cultivators for company?” And he looked over to the small cluster of cultivators less than discreetly stalking him, keeping an eye on him from the shadows of the nearby trees and building from the first moment he had stepped foot in the Unclean Realm.

Nie MingJue was frowning when Wen RuoHan looked back to him. “Is there something you needed?”

Wen RuoHan opened his mouth, then closed it again. A tricky question. “To greet my host and wish him well.” Normally gifts were offered to new Sect Leaders, but Nie MingJue's rise was years ago. Wen RuoHan had not been informed of the past Sect Leader Nie's death until months later when the grieving period was through and the Qinghe Nie had resolutely shut their gates to outsiders for a time. Wen RuoHan looked to the fan in his hand and held it out to Nie MingJue. “These discussion conferences are deceptively long. Cool off and calm down, or you'll run yourself into the ground before the end.”

Nie MingJue's eyebrows pinched his brow--but he took the fan. Strong fingers curled over it, tighter and tighter until Wen RuoHan waited for it to get crushed beneath his fist.

Would a broken fan make up for a broken saber? The fan, however, meant little to him than some meager relief from the heat.

So he was surprised when Nie MingJue dropped his hand to his side with the fan still held tight. His expression was peculiar, as if he held a hundred words stuffed in his mouth and on his tongue. When he spoke his voice was taut with control.

“If you are unable to find your rooms, I can find someone to escort you.”

“Do you think I'm lost?”

“I gave instructions that everyone was to retire to their rooms when they arrived. Either you are lost or you are trespassing.”

Trespassing. Now there was an accusation Wen RuoHan had never heard of.

And yet an apology fluttered in and out of his thoughts, but it would be ingenuous at best. Wen Qing had warned him and he did not regret what he had seen or done. He was Sect Leader Wen, after all. He had been raised to apologize for nothing.

But he wasn’t out to make enemies. Discussion conferences lasted twice as long when everyone was trying to pick a fight. “A little bit of both,” he conceded lightly, although Nie MingJue looked none too pleased to hear it. “I will retire for the evening then. After seeing your management of the saber training, I am looking forward to your management of tomorrow’s discussion. Be sure not to lose your voice before then.”

[redloftwingfeathers]

I feel like talking about the shit Zelda not only had to put up with but also what she subconsciously summoned herself and you're going to sit and listen and maybe cry with me okay? Okay.

While I don't think that was very cash-money of 'Hylia' to make Zelda wait until she's reached true, unrelenting despair to finally find her light, it made me wonder how everything came into play that made her journey so painstakingly hard, and not just Hylia pulling fast ones from the clouds. (Trust me I wanted to blame the goddess so bad after that moving performance at the spring of power but wait!! there's more!)

Things I'm looking at are specifically Zelda's anxieties of wanting to be a scholar but having to throw herself to the dogs of religion to keep Rhoam happy, the HEAVY depression she carries with not just from the loss of her mother but also just constantly being berated by her father and feeling like she's not good enough for Hylia, the jealousy and anger she harbors towards Link in their beginnings and how it effects her growth.

All of these are things (coming from someone who is very mentally ill) are ingredients that distract Zelda from her goals, intentional or not.

Zelda has a classic case of "I wanna do This Thing (studying, traveling) but I have to do That Thing (religion, strict orders) instead and now the fun is sucked out of it and my mind is buzzing and now I don't know what to do girl (hylia) HELP"

What's even worse is despite her hand-picked maturity, she KNOWS what is right and what she needs to do (her level of self awareness is impeccable sometimes) but she is still just a child in the end, wanting to live her life without dictation, which causes frustration and anger and can lead to self-doubts.

Starting with the loss of her mother, Rhoam claims that Zelda did not cry at all during the ceremony, and that it proved to him he could still be a strong king with how unwavering his daughter was. And although that's shown as an "awe inspiring" moment, it shows Rhoam does not understand how the processing of grief registers differently amongst people, especially children. She may have not showed it when she was, what, 6? (Not every normal 6 year old understands the fragility of mortality) but you can definitely see it affects her later on as Zelda grows older. It may not be entirely visible at first, but the way they portray it in HWAoC (I know its not entirely canon but bare with me on this) she longs for her mother's advice and comfort when her pleas and ideas fall deaf on the king's ears. Her mother seemed to be a very wise and compassionate queen, where Rhoam is a wise and a very bite-the-bullet king.

When stakes are high he trusts what he thinks needs to be done, and he enforces Zelda to finish her training Because she is part of his plan to push back the calamity. He knows protocol, and there's no room for creative thinking when the land of Hyrule is in danger. (Disclaimer: I hate Rhoam but I can also try to see what Nintendo was doing. He's not intentionally mean, he's an assertive dad that wants to see his daughter succeed (and also hella depressed) but he's really fucking bad at it and comes off as a dickhead. He is the embodiment of a boomer that does things the old fashioned way to get things done).

But all of this pressure he is putting on her, taking away things that make her happy so they don't distract her from her duty, shooting down her ideas because he wouldn't know how to even approach it from his standpoint, it really does a number on Zelda and really births her insecurities.

No matter how hard she prays and dedicates herself to Hylia, it doesn't work. Her mind is distracted, filled with fear and very little hope that the magic isn't Working. What even kicks me in the jaw more is that she's putting all of her effort into these prayers, and it's not even her wish she's making. It's Rhoam's wish. Her Ancestral Family's wish. That's why it hasn't sparked. She's praying on the behalf of her father and ancestors and not herself because she firmly believes there's other ways to settle the score. Zelda knows the importance of her role but its just not clicking when someone else is forcing you to do it. It just doesn't work like that.

Moving onto her liaison with Link, she is, well, in the beginning very irritated with him. Even a little bit after being chosen by Fi. But I don't think she MEANS to be angry at Link, he didn't do anything wrong in all honesty. She shouldn't take out her anger on him, but she's jealous, and he exists...so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When Link is suddenly chosen by the sword at a drop of a hat?? Yeah she's relieved, but there's also undertones of resentment. All of her Champions are here at the ready and she's still trying to figure out what shoe goes on first. She is the goddamn Princess of Hyrule, one who carries the blood of Hylia in her veins, and this random tiny knight who, mind you, fought tooth and nail to be her escort ends up finding his role before her? She is riding the struggle mule up Mount Lanayru (and I don't really blame her). And when she's exploring the shrines?? She makes it very clear to him she can work independently and does not need an escort, which although understood (freedom is a peace everyone strives for) she is careless regardless of her careful planning and efforts. She's a Princess, wandering Hyrule unarmed (and without her powers) with a horse as her only mode of transportation. You won't see yourself as a target even if they're pinned on your back, and with her determination to utilize these mysterious shrines as more Sheikah tech is being discovered is making her blind in remembering where she's placed in social status. It's dangerous, and I'm glad Link is there to see what she fails to see.

That's another thing too. As they progress and strengthen their friendship, Zelda sees Link as a mirror to question what her role really means. She uses him as guidance to help understand her situation, asking him "If you were told your whole life This is what you're meant to do, to take up your family's legacy...but one day realize this isn't what you want, would you still take the path you've been told to take?" In this case I think it's safe to say this is what Link knew he wanted. He loves being an aid to those in need, and becoming a knight despite following his father's path, this felt like his true calling. The spirit of the hero is VERY strong in his soul, and when he sees someone in need of help [Zelda] he's going to aid them whether they want it or not.

But Zelda still feels so lost, she feels so disconnected from her ancestors, as the previous daughters in the royal families were Given their powers at birth and meant to be awakened when the time has come. They were all given the gift of premonition, to be a medium for Hylia and a messenger of the gods, and overall able to keep Ganon away from the world no matter how many times he crawls back from the depths of hell. Being told your whole life you're meant to be like your ancestors, but not being able to fulfill any of those roles? It makes the past seem like one giant fairy tale when in you're in BotW Zelda's shoes.

No voices, no premonitions, no secret awakenings...Nothing.

At this moment, I finally understood why Urbosa said to Revali about Link. She said he is a constant reminder of Zelda's own failures. Link found his calling by following his instinct. Zelda has yet to figure out what she really wants, and is clouded by judgements not only from her father and people, but from herself too. With every passing day she is undergoing a meltdown, questioning if she is even meant to be apart of this whole plan anymore, probably something among the lines of "Was it meant to be someone else? I'm the only daughter, and yet I can't even do my one job." She lost everyone and everything, she's frightened, it feels like she's lost her faith in the gods, or even dare say, the gods lost faith in her.

But through absolute despair when Link just about gives his life for her protection, that's when it all clicked. She found her power and strength through Link, who was the one that, all this time, taught her about what she needed to do to awaken her powers without even directly telling her. Every conversation she had with him, she saw herself in Link. She saw all the effort he gave into becoming a royal knight, the unwavering determination in his eyes with every Lynel he slew, a never ending supply of optimism and hope no matter how high the stakes were. And yet he was also Free. He followed his path blindly, not even knowing where he'd end up, as long as he knew he was

able to protect those in need. And she wanted that.

He was her mirror, and Zelda managed to awaken herself when that mirror cracked.

Living the burden of being part of a prophecy and saying you're ready for anything, is very reckless. Understanding the heaviness that comes with sacrifice is not truly understood until it starts happening to you.

Zelda found her wish, her independence through Link. Her mind is finally clear and she understands what her role means in all of this.

She is meant to protect, to save, to understand more than just personal loss.

Zelda couldn't stand by idly anymore after everyone told her to do something else and let others handle the job. That was the last straw when Link stood in front of her, shield weak but at the ready when that guardian approached. She saw the desperation and said NO, which finally broke her seal. She chose to sacrifice herself, igniting her powers just as Hylia did for her people. She chose to save her last, literally dying hope, because Ganon cannot be fought alone.

He was the connection, the literal link, she needed to awaken her powers. And I just find that so fucking great.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk I've been typing this for like 4 hours now

[lisinfleur]

FTM - Chapter 2: What separates boys from men

Author’s Notes | Second part of this small series! Hope you guys are enjoying! Words | 4353 ⁑ Warnings: Cursing. Mentions to betrayal and fat-shaming.

It was there.

Nevertheless, as he imagined, it wasn't easy.

To be a better man for you was a challenge he had to face with all his heart and Hvitserk wasn't really finding obstacles when he was with you. The moments by your side were just proving he took the best decision he could've ever taken: you were indeed an amazing wife, sweet company, gentle, always up to make his days better and prone to satisfy his needs even more and better than any other lover he ever had.

It was true he didn't have sex with you again yet, but the truth was that it didn't happen yet because of his lack of invests: Hvitserk was still thinking it was too soon to go for something so intimate when the two of you were building something he could see would grow into this level. It wasn't time to search for you yet and waiting to have his sexual desire satisfied was also proof of his change he was giving to himself.

He could find sex wherever he wanted. But he would wait for your time to give it to him once again.

However, he couldn't say it wasn't hard to avoid the "chances" he had everywhere. Getting rid of his ex-lovers was something worse than taking a bath after one huge combat: they were stuck to him like blood between his braids, finding ways to pop out of street corners or cornering him around, trying to get him by the dick as they’d always done.

The fight against his body was the hardest part, but the way his mind was focused helped him not only to fight his own need but also to see things he had never seen...

Many of those women he had in his bed really knew he was married. They not only knew, but they liked to know they were able to take him from his wife's bed! Some of them reached levels of cruelty in their words post being rejected that Hvitserk started feeling disgusted by the memories of every moment he shared with them against his skin.

"Do you think she doesn't know, Hvitserk? What woman wouldn't want to lay with a prince? What pig like her wouldn't know a man like you would want beautiful women by his side?"

"She's not even a woman!"

"By the gods! You'll exchange me for that bunch of meat?"

"Don't come back when you're tired of searching for her cunt in the middle of all that fat, prince Hvitserk!"

Their cruelty was... Despicable. To start for the smaller of the adjectives he could think about those women now.

Every time he would hear such a terrible thing about you from the former lovers he had just shoved away, Hvitserk would come back home and find you there, showing more of those sweet smiles, preparing different recipes for his meals, new clothes you started making for him or even simply being there to kiss his lips and welcome his tired self into the cottage you were turning into his favorite place in Miðgarð.

And it would fill him with the strength to continue changing more and more, facing more and more his own mistakes and changing himself into a better husband for you.

"So... I can see you're growing better."

Words from Ubbe that caught Hvitserk's thoughts from his moment at the Hall's table. He had gone there to drink with his brothers - this time for real, not as a disguise to leave you home for some whore around.

"What?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup and Ubbe smiled.

"You see, some women around have no shame to spit to me their anger about your... Madness," he mocked his lovers' words, smiling at Hvitserk. "I supposed they're becoming angry after being rejected since you seem to have chosen to settle down with your wife. Am I right?"

Hvitserk smiled, but before he could speak, Ivar intromitted himself on the conversation intrusive, as always.

"Our brother was always gluttony, Ubbe. It's not a surprise to see him choosing the bigger dish to devour."

In a different situation, he would've rolled his eyes. Ubbe was ready to reprehend his little brother for the mean comment as the reasonable voice he was always among them but it was Hvitserk's voice to be heard, surprising them all.

"Stop," he grunted, looking at Ivar. "It's not the first time you have mean words to speak about Y/N and I may have been quiet until now, but Ubbe is right. Things have changed and I decided to honor my trousers and stop being a boy which includes protecting my wife from mean words like these."

Ivar rolled his eyes, sipping from his cup as Sigurd and Ubbe were observing that scene with different tones of surprise in their faces: Ubbe, mostly taken by Hvitserk's rampant of maturity; and Sigurd, by the idea he wouldn't be the only one in that table facing Ivar's mean words anymore.

"You have to admit she's quite different from your usual taste, Hvitserk. And now that Ubbe is growing fond of Torvi, I was expecting you to do everything but embracing the female grizzly bear you were forced to marry and accepting your fate. Especially when Margrethe is free to..."

"I said stop!"

This time Hvitserk's voice was angry, followed by a punch of his heavy fist against the wooden table.

"My wife has a name, and her name is Y/N. And you will call her by her name and stop these mean comparisons right now, Ivar! Enough of your poisonous words! She's bigger and curvy, so what? Won't every woman grow bigger and curvy when bearing our children? Won't thin silhouettes grow round when their bellies are full of our seed? Y/N's curves are gorgeous. She fills her dresses, my bed, in a way no other woman ever did. And I may have taken longer to understand how precious she is, but now that I'm aware of my treasures, I won't admit your mocking anymore!"

Ivar had an expression twisted into irony while Ubbe's lips curved in a smile. His little brother was finally growing into the man he always thought was there, hidden behind that hedonist little boy and so, he straightened himself, resting against the chair, letting Hvitserk take care of that situation for his delight.

"It seems little Hvitserk found something hidden into his wife's folds..." Ivar mocked once again.

To what Hvitserk answered with a proud expression no one could really doubt was real in his heart.

"I found love, Ivar. Something I don't think you'll ever find with this bitter tongue and stone heart you insist on keeping inside of your chest. Speak as much as you want, brother. I have a wife, she's gold and soon she'll be full with my child..."

"Even rounder than before!" Ivar insisted, bittered by Hvitserk's words.

"Even rounder than before, Ivar, you're right," Hvitserk completed, not affected by his brother's anger. "Even more beautiful than she already is. And I can't wait to see her like this, waiting for the dreams I have already coming into my life. Now tell me, little brother... Ubbe is to get married for the second time. As long as I know, Sigurd grew fond of that farmer girl he was seeing around. What about you? Bittered by your loneliness, Ivar, the Boneless?"

Sigurd, who was silent since the beginning of that conversation, scoffed a giggle behind his cup causing Ivar to grunt infuriated, hitting the table three times, but having no answer against his older brother who just got up under the smile stamped on Ubbe's lips.

"Going home, brother?" Ubbe asked.

"Y/N will fry pork ribs for me today with lemon and a bittersweet salad she said she's created. I can't lose it, brother," Hvitserk smiled.

"When he comes back, our father will be satisfied, Hvitserk. You bet he will," Ubbe said, smiling at his younger brother who smiled back.

Ragnar was spending some time at the settlement in England and it would surely be a good surprise for him to come back and see that his son had finally settled up with his fate alongside the woman he knew was good for Hvitserk since the beginning.

Hvitserk just nodded, smiling before leaving the table towards the square. This time, he decided to walk himself home since Vakker - his horse - was left home to take a time to rest. Hvitserk smiled, thinking about the beautiful mantle Y/N had done for the horse as a gift since she saw him complaining to Ubbe his horse was slowed by the cold in the last Winter. She had used the pieces of cloth she had from the clothes she made for him and sewed a beautiful cloak that would cover the horse during the cold nights keeping his legs from being affected by the cold and weakened by the harsh time.

His smile became bigger. How was it possible not to love someone who cared even for the littlest things in his life that were important for him?

"I miss this smile in your face," Hvitserk's thoughts were cut by a familiar sweetened voice he wasn't hearing in a while, and raising his eyes from the desert road he noticed what would be his harsher challenge of all: Margrethe was standing near a tree in the middle of his way, close to his house.

Sweet Margrethe...

His first love, the burning desire of his youth. His heart ached once again remembering the sadness of the day Ubbe chose to make her his wife and she accepted. The pain of not being able to question or ask for her since he was already betrothed to Y/N and how he hated that compromise that was now his most precious treasure.

She came closer. Her clothes weren't that bright now, denouncing the effects of divorcing his older brother were already coming down on her life. Yet, she had the same slow way to walk closer. Those eyes he once loved so bad were still sweet, yet full of sadness.

"You should be home, Margrethe," Hvitserk said, keeping his position.

Keeping himself from walking forward to cover the distance she didn't have walked towards him.

"It's late and people know already you're not my brother's wife anymore..."

"I chose wrong, didn't I?" she spoke with a doughy voice he knew so well.

Hvitserk's heart ached inside his chest.

It was easier when they were cruel towards you... It was easier when they weren't into his heart. But she... She was something more in his life and maybe the gods were testing him one last time. One more time...

Was he strong enough?

"I should've married you," she continued, lowering her head.

And Hvitserk felt the impulse to touch her chin and lift her face tickling his fist he clenched, holding back the tense arm. She wasn't his wife.

You were home waiting for him.

"I can see how you treat her... And I envy her. I chose wrong and now I can see my mistakes," she continued.

"I don't blame you, Margrethe. You made a choice with your heart, I believe. Things were what they had to be and I was fated anyway. Y/N and I were betrothed and nothing would've changed my father's decision. After all, she's a good woman and I'm happy now..." Hvitserk tried.

Seeing when she lifted her eyes full of tears to look at him.

"And I'm doomed," she meowed.

Crossing Hvitserk's heart with a thousand blades.

Ubbe never told them why he just gave up on the woman they loved when younger like that. He was a prince and could've taken Torvi as his second wife. Instead, he took distance from her, and within a month, he just said he wanted to divorce and leave Margrethe who had no say in his decision spoke with stone-cold words.

It was like all the love they've once shared for her had gone from Ubbe's heart at once and he didn't know why.

"I'm fated to loneliness and this despicable life... This is not fair!" she cried.

And for a second, Hvitserk thought he could hug her. He could take her as his second wife maybe. You...

But you had suffered so much...

"It was supposed to be me! Now Torvi stands by his side as if she didn't have sat beside a prince before, walking around as the future queen Ubbe will make of her as if I didn't have worked my whole life for the chance she stole from me!"

Margrethe's words cracked the glass of that scene for a moment and Hvitserk blinked twice, looking at her. He couldn't believe what he was hearing so, he let her speak, keeping the attention, giving her enough rope so she could feel safe to keep pouring her heart out.

"All because of her children... All men want her because she produces children like the soil produces trees! It's not my fault the gods kept me dry! I tried... I tried so hard! But Ubbe gave up on me like trash... And you're now with her as if you didn't hate the idea of getting married to that unknown foreigner and cursed this fate so many times between my arms. Come back, Hvitserk... Leave her and stay with me. I... I know my mistakes now. We can be happy again!" she said, walking towards him.

To what Hvitserk stepped back, covering the same distance she had walked but away from her.

"I have no reason to divorce Y/N like this..."

"Björn didn't have any reasons to divorce Torvi as he did. Yet, he did. You can do it too... Isn't Ubbe taking his brother's ex-wife to himself? You can stick your claim over me. I'll gladly accept you, Hvitserk! I know you're fated to great things too... We... We could be so happy together!"

Fated to great things...

Hvitserk blinked twice once again, seeing more and more cracks on Margrethe's mask. How many times did he saw her smiling beside Ubbe after saying he would one day become a great king and she would be queen by his side?

And before his brother had taken her for granted, how many times he had listened to her speaking about the great things all sons of his father were fated to? How lucky the women by their side would be?

"Or maybe you don't love me as you said before..." she said, looking at him with a glow of anger inside her eyes. "Did you lie to me too, Hvitserk? Is Sigurd like the three of you, Björn, Ubbe, and you?"

She would go for his little brother in case of his denial.

Hvitserk stood straight, chest stuffed by the deep breath he took, face frowned to speak with a harsh glare towards the woman he once thought it was the half of his soul.

"Fated to great things, Margrethe? All of us are. But if you want to know which one of us is the fool that will fall for your lies at this point in our lives, the answer is none. Cause not even Ivar with all the sadness of his lonely soul would fall for lovely words poisoned with greed like yours. You're not after love as I thought you were... You tried for our seeds to fill you with child and grant you the life of a queen you thought you would be when you accepted my brother's proposal," he spat.

And almost as if the gods were confirming his thoughts, Margrethe's lovely expression turned into anger and the mask fell once and for all, shattering the loving memories he had kept from her in a million of pieces: she was nothing but an opportunist and somehow, the gods had saved his older brother from that viper he was seeing changing form in front of his bare eyes as if she was Loki himself and his shapeshifting trickery.

"And is it such a bad thing for a woman who lived like me, prince of Kattegat?" she spoke harshly, no sign of the sweet woman Hvitserk had once fallen in love with. "I was a slave! You know nothing of slavery, son of Ragnar! You know nothing about how it is to be used as a dumpster by your masters, passed from hand to hand as if you were nothing but a doll to be used! Even after you got married to one of them, to keep being shared with his brothers like a toy for their entertainment, keeping these stupid games for your husband just to be thrown away by a better whore who can give him the little ones you weren't able to produce! Discharged by all the brothers who liked to fuck you just because they found themselves some cunts they now think are warmer than yours once were for them! What do you know about the life of a woman, Hvitserk? You can't judge me!"

The sound of the door of the cottage being opened froze Hvitserk on his place: Margrethe's altered voice called your attention and you came out through the door to watch that scene, instantly causing her to turn against you as if you were a moving target to her fury.

As soon as you stepped outside, she pointed her finger towards you, infuriated. Her face defaced in an expression of pure anger Hvitserk had never seen on the woman he used to see as the sweetest of his lovers.

"And for her... You're exchanging me and all these years we spent together for her! A woman you barely knew before you got married to! A creature you didn't even want or chose to get married to!"

"Stop it, Margrethe!" Hvitserk tried, standing between the two of you, trying to get Margrethe to shut up, fearing her words would destroy his whole progress as you walked closer to that sad scene.

"No! I won't shut up, you despicable prince! It's true! And if you lied to her then I'll save her from your lying fairytales! This is what your prince is, dear Y/N! A despicable man just like his brothers! Who fell tired of fucking me while you were home waiting for him! Who told you dozens of times he was drinking with his brother when he was indeed drinking from me in his brother's bed! Like his brother, he got tired of the pussy he fucked when younger and now he may be playing the good husband for you, but the truth is that I wasn't the only one he had in his bed before and after you were laid by his side with this ring on your finger that means nothing but a collar his father forced him to wear! They left me to the gods but I won't keep my mouth shut any longer! Cheater, that's what your prince is. A scoundrel, that's what Ubbe is! A liar, what Sigurd is, and his useless cripple brother after him! The great, great sons of Ragnar Loðbrók! Nothing but bastards, that's what they are!"

It was enough for him. Nervous, Hvitserk rose his hand to slap Margrethe's face and she shrunk waiting to experiment what she used to have long ago when she wasn't their slave.

But that slap never came.

In awe, she looked up to see your hand calmly holding Hvitserk's arm. Your touch soothing his angry frown as you stood in front of him, your back turned to her.

"No," you said and Hvitserk's heart sunk into his chest.

He couldn't exactly define if it was the shame of losing control like that or fear that you were defending Margrethe's words, but for a moment, he thought his whole efforts to walk that way towards your heart since the beginning were lost in her words.

Your fingers touched his face. A gentle caress he was getting used to receiving from your tender hands. And his heart ached more, imagining it was the last time he could be tasting that touch.

But your voice sounded calm, almost resigned.

"I know," you said, finally looking at her. "I know he got laid with you. And others. Many others. I know Hvitserk is a cheater and I know he gave around what was supposed to be mine only. I know of his treasons and all the many lies his mouth gave me."

Heavy words that enlarged Margrethe's eyes and shrunk Hvitserk's throat making it hard for him to swallow as you kept speaking.

"But I also know he's changed. And I know it not from his actions nor from the sweet words he started speaking into my ears, but from the stones you and the others started having into your hands whenever I'm around."

Hvitserk looked at you, surprised. Were they coming to you?

Why didn't you talk to him?

But you continued, eyes into Margrethe's full of a kind of security you'd never felt in front of her before.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, Margrethe, but the anger in your eyes just tell me you're not my husband's ways out anymore. The fury of the words you all have been driving to me just vouch for his honesty and prove to me he has been denying what before would put that air of superiority I don't see in your eyes any longer. I have no reason to hate you, Margrethe, because I know Hvitserk was the one who chose to hurt our compromise by keeping his side relationships, living a life that wasn't his anymore. But I won't take from him what he has been doing to fix his mistakes nor how he has grown into a better man in my eyes. So, like the others, keep your words to yourself and leave. I chose to leave the past where it belongs along with all of you in my husband's life: in the past. Please, do not come back to my house anymore. I thank you for the honesty about my husband's crimes but I also expect you shall respect my decisions about it and leave."

If there wasn't a reason for Hvitserk to fall in love with you before, he would've fallen helplessly with you now.

The sweet princess with tender hands and beautiful smiles was also a strong woman, decided, who had just shown him she could have kicked his butt before, and if he had a chance to change and show himself a better man it was entirely her decision to offer this chance for him.

"I hope he cheats on you again... And one day you'll be like I am now! Exchanged and discharged as he lays with a thinner bitch in your bed!" Margrethe cursed.

But Hvitserk watched as his wife spoke calmly, dressed in the mantle of sureness and certain of her own place in his life - an assurance his actions had given to her and he knew it.

"Instead of cursing the other's lives, you should care about your own. It's late, it will be night soon. Find yourself a shelter instead of trying to invade mine. In other words, Margrethe, try to find your own fate instead of trying to insert yourself into mine. And may the gods bless your life, woman, as much as they've been blessing mine."

"I hate you!" Margrethe yelled, angrily out of herself. "I hate you for taking him from me! I hate you, and Torvi! And that bitch of Sigurd's girl as well! All of you! I hate you! I hate you!!" she kept yelling, walking away into the forest like a witch with all her curses.

Hvitserk then felt the heavy weight in his shoulders again. His eyes landed on Y/N as she sighed turning herself to start walking back into their house.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, causing her to stop and look at him. "I'm sorry for all the things you've been hearing, all the stones they've thrown on you, all the time they've looked at you from upon your head as if they were better than you are. I granted them this right and I gave them reasons to do what they do and for this, I'm truly sorry," he said, with all his heart.

But instead of looking at him with disappointment or anger, Hvitserk saw a smile in Y/N's face. one of those smiles he loved so bad and thought he would never see in her face once again.

"I know you are sorry, husband. You have been changing it every day and I know your feelings are real. Don't worry... As I say, I can handle their anger and their stones don't hurt me. They make me happy. Cause if they're frustrated and angry it means you're keeping yourself faithful. And I have nothing to fear anymore."

Hvitserk came closer, caressing her face gently. And her chubby cheeks became red that way he learned he liked the most. She smiled, touching his face that way he thought he would never feel again and his lips turned into a smile as well.

"You have nothing to fear, wife," he mumbled, touching their foreheads. "Cause I love you. I may have failed to notice how possible it was before. But now I know what my heart wants and it's you."

His words preceded his lips touching hers gently, getting her into a warm kiss that lasted as long as their breath could take.

And then, Hvitserk giggled noticing he had managed to get her whole face red and she was now looking like a beautiful ripe cherry, fully shy in front of him.

"The... Ribs... They're ready and..." she babbled and Hvitserk giggled, embracing her tighter, happy to have his arms full of her.

"I can barely wait!" he smiled.

And as she smiled back, Hvitserk felt maybe the gods were satisfied with his actions, because she was there, with him. The smiley girl he married to was back and he couldn't be happier to be blessed like that.

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[ellie-writes-things]

The Lemon Tree (memoir)

As a child of about six or seven years in age, my father owned a little red piglet.

Though mis abuelos had six of their nine children in San Jose, California, they moved them all back to Ajijic, a city in Jalisco, Mexico where mi abuelo owned land and livestock, even a mercado, as I’m reminded periodically when my father and I discuss family. Abuelo trained Arabian horses to dance in the shows there, and there was an instance where he beat my father when he lost one of his prized stallions for the day.

But, my father had a small pet pig.

He has told me this story several times, over the course of my life. I was about fifteen years old when he first mentioned this piglet. We sat in an IHOP, surrounded by his replacement family, my step-mother to his left hand my new siblings around me like bookends made of flesh. I fidgeted in my combat boots and fishnets--a decision made in haste to spite my father--my pale face flushed under the layers of foundation I wore, aware of my otherness compared to the vibrancy of the newly formed clan. The smattering of Spanish and English blended to buzz in my ears, and I felt dizzy.

The first Spanish phrase I remember learning from my father is, “Enrique es mi héroe.”

Despite the ritual retelling of the tale, I never remember how he managed to acquire this tiny ungulate. He never told me what he named it, either

He cared for this pig. He massaged it, bathed it, and fed it corn and cornmeal. After some time passed, the pig grew to a considerable girth and adored my father.

He has told me this story a dozen times.

On his way home from school, my father walked past the town’s butcher, where his gaze caught on an animal skin on display in the window. The skin reminded him of his pet at home, but he did not think much of the coincidence at the time and continued to walk along the cobblestone and dirt roads with the sun beating down on his diminutiveness.

He arrived at the large double doors of his family’s house as the sun dipped low on the horizon, drifting down into the earth. His pig did not greet him in the foyer, and he searched out his mother, who he found in the kitchen. She busied herself with ordering my two aunts, who were old enough to help with household chores, on how to serve dinner. He asked his mother, in Spanish, if she knew where his pig went.

Abuelita only rummaged her hands in her pockets and produced, for a child, a rather significant sum of money and handed it to him. She said something to him to the effect of, “This is your cut.”

Every time my father tells me this story, he says that the only thing he asked her is if he could get another pig. And he laughs.

My father, a man named Enrique--though most of the world knows him by the Anglicized Henry--works at Santa Clara University as the Head of Fire Safety. My parents, at this point, have been divorced longer than they were ever together, and I am the only lasting product of that union. Even the house they purchased together in Santa Clara has since been gutted and remade in the image of my father’s current family. I have scant memories of my parents married, and the few I have are tinged with the haze of sentiment or bitterness. I talk to my father once, maybe, a month by phone. We text more often. Once every couple of weeks, to make sure the other is alive, though I rarely initiate a conversation. If we were to stand side by side, we have the same eyes, the same features, the same unfortunate Roman nose that, while attractive on a man, stands out and appears garish on a woman.

I could be his doppelganger.

We both enjoy trivia and telling bad jokes, and, at times, delight in others’, and our own, misfortune. We’ve also both been emotionally absent in nearly all of our relationships. “Almost no one in our family has ever been married less than three times,” my father jokes, often, slapping me on the back afterward. I point out his older brother who has been married for over 50 years and my dad shrugs.

I visited my father recently with my partner and drove the three-hour trip for a visit that lasted two hours. We sat on the loveseat, Rory and I, backs straight and shoulders stiff as I spoke, my voice high and thready and the sound of it reverberated through the room. My dad nodded along and Rory left for the restroom, abandoning the two of us in each other’s company. My father inquired about my schedule, and I remarked I recounted my work and school schedule. He nodded again, humming along to the tune my words set. I sighed and asked how work was going for him. Last we spoke he confessed to being fearful of getting fired. He assured me things smoothed over. I told him he was just paranoid. He mentioned that my step sister and her family finally moved out of his spare bedroom. I rolled my eyes and exhaled through my nose, the force of it tickling my upper lip. He grew quiet and settled back down into the sofa. By the time Rory returned, my father and I looked at the television screen, where one of his old westerns played. Something with John Wayne, I think. I crane my head to gaze at the photos that lined the walls, out of habit more than sentiment. An old picture of my step-sister, Adriana, the one closest in age to me and who recently vacated my father’s home, at her quinceanera; a couple photos of Esmeralda, my stepmother, from her younger years; their wedding photo, just the two of them; two family portraits from the same day; and my photos are conspicuously absent among the throng of photos that detailed their lives together.

I did go snooping, one time, a few years back, and found my senior portraits jammed behind the printer stand, a thick layer of dust covering the frame.

I never asked about it.

The house, otherwise, still remains the same as it ever was. White walls, muted colors, blinds without curtains, and the laminate flooring that replaced my mother’s polished planks. The living room is neat, tidy. Not too different from how it appears in my old family albums, but a world apart.

My father’s shoes laid against the leg of the coffee table, propped at an angle, and flecks of dried mud dotted the sides of the rubber soles. His glass of water dripped condensation onto the surface of the table on which it rested, creating a ring on the glass. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, and whispered, after he glanced down the hall towards the master bedroom, “Are you guys doing okay with money?”

“God, yes, Dad. We’re fine,” I bit out. Rory nodded next to me and I struggled to keep from sniping at him as well.

He dug through his pocket and pulled his wallet out. He told Rory to move closer and shoved a pile of gift cards into Rory’s palm. He stammered a thank you to my father, the tips of his ears glowing. I crossed my arms and said, “Ditto.” Rory leaned into me, nudging my arm with his elbow and I shrugged away from him and scooted closer to the opposite edge of the love seat, clutching my purse on my lap.

In the bedroom, I heard my niece, Esmeralda’s granddaughter, move around, the bedsprings creaking and the sound of the sheets rustling echoing down the small hallway as she roused herself from sleep. Sixteen years old, she is the daughter of my oldest step-sister, but she resides full time in my father’s house while my sister lives somewhere in Fremont with her younger two children. There, too, are photos of my niece that line the wall opposite of the family portraits. Soccer, softball, school portraits that show the same girl in ascending ages grinning, wide and toothy, at the camera.

Smaller photos, in paper frames, are lower than that from various trips to San Francisco. The type of photos you get after you take the Red and White tours at the Embarcadero out into the Bay and listen to someone drone into a headset, listing the various sites of historical interest and how many people died building the Golden Gate Bridge, that is discarded immediately after boarding the boat because you’ve heard the guided tour enough times to recite it word for word.

I would sit and gaze out the window, the skyline in constant view and wondered what it would have been like for the people who first arrived to San Francisco, to see the city for the first time as they stood above on the deck of the ship, with salt and mist lashing at their cheeks, leaving them inflamed.

Before his new family arrived, and before my father trusted me enough to stick by his side on a trip to San Francisco, we fed the ducks together at whatever park we decided to go to for the day. One--whose name I cannot for the life of me recall--we frequented more than the others. There was a large man-made pond and mallards would flock to it in droves, likely to the dismay of the property owners nearby. My father ignored the signs that I now know tell passersby to desist from giving the ducks bread, and we would go to the nearest 7-11 and he purchased a discounted loaf of Wonderbread and gave me carte blanche to do as I willed with it. This usually involved me eating one slice and then ripping the remaining slices to shreds, laughing when the ducks surrounded me.

One instance stands out more than the others, perhaps because it was the last time we did this, but I cannot know with any certainty as the memory of a five-year-old is fickle: The clouds lay low above us, and the breeze carried a taste of warmth in it. My father’s mustache and beard tried to make another appearance at this time, as they did periodically through my childhood, and he wore his large aviator glasses for his near-sightedness that shielded the eyes that were like my own. We walked along the side of the pond, my pink-clad legs burning as I kept up with his strides. My father picked me up and swung me around over the water. My heart pounded within my ribs and I begged him to put me down, waiting for his grip to slip and struggling to hold onto the sleeves of his windbreaker with my hands that became slick with sweat. He laughed and told me that he saved me when velocity and his arms brought me back into his body. My lungs hurt and I felt like I swallowed sand, but I wrapped my limbs around his torso and felt his hand rub circles along my back, the fingers pressing into the knobs of my vertebrae.

When his then-girlfriend-now-wife moved in with him, we ceased doing anything alone together. Any trip after that needed to involve her children as well, as they all needed to be treated the same. Occasionally, we made it to San Francisco alone. Somewhere, long since lost, there are photos of my father and I, at various ages, much like the photos that hang on his wall today. As we both grew older, along with Esmeralda’s children, the time we had shortened and, eventually, it ceased. I still came over to his house for a while still, but Adriana was involved as well. Sometimes Vicente, the youngest.

There was a night, when I was seven or eight, and we just finished my father’s weekly ritual of scratching off lotto tickets. I won five dollars out of the fifteen or so cards he purchased. The house was still being remodeled, so the floor was scuffed and there were gaps between the rooms in the floor, showing the concrete interior. Outlets were exposed, and I felt the grit of construction dust under my nails every time I went over to his house. I kept my sneakers on, anxious that I would step on a nail, or get a splinter, and I stayed to the one area of the floor that appeared the cleanest. I wanted to go to the movies that night, but no one else wanted to go, or they didn’t want to see the movie I wanted to watch, so we stayed in for the evening and indulged in my father’s whim. At the end of the night, before my dad took me home, he went to hug me but I shrank away and crossed my arms in front of my chest, and wrapped them around my ribs. My father shrugged and hugged Adriana. He turned to me and said, “See, Adri loves me? Why don’t you?”

I didn’t say anything else to him, I just sat down in the front passenger seat in his Honda and waited for him to take me home while I bit the insides of my cheeks, the tang of copper weighing my tongue down.

As a child, I was fraught with emotions that felt too large to be housed in my body that scratched and tore at my flesh and crawled out of my mouth and eyes like serpents slithering down my face and form. More than once, my mother scolded my father for saying the wrong thing to set me off and would spend an hour or so consoling me by rubbing my shoulders as they trembled and shook. He eventually started paying me to tell my mother we had fun.

I took the money and told my mother the truth anyway.

My dad laughs at something on the screen: a baby food commercial. He turns to smile at me, and my face twitches in response, baring my teeth when my lips pull back.

“You know,” he began, “When you were that small,” he cupped his hands in front of his body, “I used to take naps with you just laying on my chest like this.” He leaned against the sofa and patted the center of his torso a couple times. My stomach roiled, the acid sloshing against the lining of the walls, and I nodded, shooting a glance to my partner. His lips twitched. I let out a puff of air. I itched, my clothes tight and bunched around my body. I tugged at them to relieve some pressure, and crossed and uncrossed my legs several times. My hair felt greasy despite washing it that morning and my skin felt heavy. I ran my fingers through my locks to smooth them down and I asked my father if Esmeralda felt alright and we could always leave if need be. He shook his head and stated that she’s just taking her time and last night was rough for her. I hummed and leaned forward, my legs bounced on the balls of my feet as my breath came in several deep inhalations. Across from me, my father sat back, his fingers tapping the beat of an unheard tune. He coughed, every so often. Rhythmic wheezes escaped his mouth as he cleared his throat, while my own tickled in response and I swallowed against the spasms of my diaphragm. The noise that emanated from the television hung in the air, filling the room and clogging my ears with static.

My father refuses to install an air conditioner in the house and chooses to keep the doors open and instead lets the aroma of grass waft through the home, sticking to the walls and furniture.

I swallowed a lungful of summer-perfume air and the band that knotted itself around my esophagus shifted.

Rory moved his hand to my knee and rested it there: a hot weight that clamped onto my leg that I tried to extricate myself from, but then patted his hand with mine for a couple strokes before disentangling completely. I flashed him a smile, a grimace, and scooted a bit further away, the fabric of the loveseat grabbing my pantlegs. The sound grated on my ears and I winced at the racket my body made in the echo chamber living room. Rory said something to my father, and he responded, voice pressed and rushed. He asked questions about work to Rory, asking him if he’s thought about doing IT consulting for the university he works for. I stifled the groan that bubbled up in my throat, and told my dad that Rory’s family lives in the exurbs of Placer County, so it would be hard to move with his family life and my school. He said that he knew, but it was a thought. Business is bigger in the Silicon Valley. I told him my life is in Sacramento.

I can’t keep uprooting myself.

Before Rory and I left, we said our goodbyes to the inhabitants of my father’s house, and he walked with us outside. He shook Rory’s hand, and I let him press me in an embrace. I squirm, my skin prickling while I hold my breath. He chuckled and asked me, “I guess I won’t see you for another year then?”

I shrugged away from him and ducked my head. “We’ll try to get back down here sooner. We’ve just been busy. You know how it is.” I scuffed my shoes against the sidewalk.

He stared at me for a long time, the lines of his face more prominent outside under the sunlight. The light glints off the thinning, greying hair that has started to make an appearance. His eyes followed the contours of my face, and I brought my hand up to smooth back my hair again, my fingers catching on the knots there. I swallowed and laughed and turned to Rory to say we better get going so we don’t get caught in traffic.

Rory turns on the engine to let the air conditioner soothe the balmy interior of the vehicle. The air is thick and clogs my lungs. I turn my gaze out the window as Rory puts the car in drive and creeps away from the sidewalk. The sun washes the landscape out and reflects off the stuccoed exterior of the house. My father forms a stark silhouette against the brightness of his abode. An empty place exists in the front lawn, an indentation with little growth in the otherwise verdant lawn, where the lemon tree he planted to celebrate my birth once stood, its roots growing and coiling around each other for years. Chopped down a couple summers ago because of an infection it got that he didn’t want to spread to the other plants. The hedges that line the house and the roses my stepmother planted years ago bloom and rustle in the breeze, their leaves catch the sunlight as their branches wave along to those who visit, but never step inside.

[atemgirl94]

Supernatural Court pt. 1

There is a dark court and a light court, the dark court is your supernaturals that come out in the night. Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, Etc. Then there is the light court that have a variety of people mostly Witches. Then there is those that are considered Rare. Meaning not born within the groups but possess power not related to any of their family. I am one of those rare beings along with my sisters.

Each of the groups has a leader called the lead of the group and each lead chooses a 2nd in command. When grandfather had sent us to a group of witches and Sirens led by one lead with no 2nd in command so they trained us in our gifted magics.

Over time I got a long with a few of them and they became my good friends. Kayla, a witch in the group was the one who always talked with me. I knew there was so much more going on and no one was telling me.

"So what's with all the whispering?" I asked

"It's getting close to the dark moon party, it's a time the dark and light creatures come together as the leads sit at the high table to discuss things." Kayla said "it's also the time cupids try to do matches and try to hook up people to find their true mate." "Mate?" I asked

"Yeah." Kayla said "So true mate is the only thing that brings true happiness and treaties among the courts." "Explain a little more? How does one know?" I asked

"Well, first off Vampires know by the smell of blood. Their True Mate has the sweetest smelling blood. Werewolves their inner wolf knows through a kiss, Mermaids trade scales I assume, ShapeShifters well their true mate can see their true form." Kayla said

"Witches?" I asked

"We're sorta like Human, we know by sight but then sometimes we get a cupid hookup that will reveal the true mate by being very bright in the room. Only one." Kayla said "So it'd be the same for you but who knows since you're the princess, you could be a true mate to one of the supernatural groups." I merely nod as I sighed a bit still a meeting was called so all of us were brought to the middle of the witches hang out. I didn't really give it a lot of thought as my sisters and I were living there temporarily while under the training. The leader of Witches and Sirens was a good friend of mine Zoey. She walked towards the group and she took my wrist as she brought me out there with her.

"For a long time I haven't found anyone worthy of being my 2nd, but this girl who has done everything we asked and showed much progress has earned the right to become 2nd of us." Zoey said "Who will back my claim?" "I will" Kayla and Kaitlyn said

I was in shock to hear that she considered me for being her 2nd. From what I had learned I knew 2nd in commands got to sit with all the 2nds so I would be sitting with more supernatural beings than just the witches. Still I knew that this dark moon party was close.

"Is this due to the dark moon party?" I asked

"Partially." Zoey said "The other reason is the other leads are saying I need a 2nd."

"Uh huh." I said

We went about the rest of the day like everything was fine but I wondered about if this was going to work out. I asked a few of them about what to expect when it came to the other things. One thing caught my attention when Kaitlyn spoke.

"Well your a virgin and the cupids will try to do a set up." Kaitlyn said "But uh, the Vampire King is looking for a Queen but can only be with his true mate." "Well I doubt I'd be that." I said

"Well he also can take a bride of royalty." Kayla added

I wasn't sure what to think about that but knew I had to just smile and nod. My grandfather would jump at the thought of marrying into another kingdom. Still I had to make good on this. So I went and prepared for the thing.

A couple days passed and soon we were leaving to go to the dark moon party. I decided to go in my nile blue dress to represent my home too. My sisters were told to stay back for this one that Zoey didn't want to overwhelm the group of supernatural beings with more than one human. My sisters understood so they stayed behind.

During the long travel we were there before I knew it thanks to Zoe's magic. When we arrived the guards all seemed surprised and Zoey got down first from hers before telling the guards to back up and she helped me down then she used magic to lead heb with the rest of the horses. I was surprised but kept my calm.

When we walked in the vampire King's 2nd Seto came over greeting Zoey and he looked at me. Before he could say anything on me being human Zoey put her hand up.

"My 2nd, if you have a problem with it I can talk to your lead." Zoey said

"No, if she's your 2nd then she is welcomed here." Seto said

Atem's pov: Tonight was important for the supernatural group, I was trying to get the role of high king among supernaturals tonight. I figured that no one would object and I had to backups of the werewolf lead and 2nd. I sat in my throne watching people come and go as they liked but then I caught the scent of something...sweet!

I've never smelled something so sweet before.. I thought

Seto my 2nd has been trying to push me to marry someone, anyone in particular. I didn't want to consider it with my turn rate not so high and I like so many before me wanted my true mate. I realized If I was smelling something sweet then the one who was destined to be my true mate was here somewhere.

Where are you? I thought

I got up from my throne before going over to the table where leads would sit. I was working on making a good impression with them to get the vote. Sadly when I did the lead mermaid Tea was practically all over me. I didn't like it and I wasn't attracted to her. Britt's pov:

Ever have the feeling you are so out of place you have to find your own way. Yeah for the first time I felt that way among all these supernatural creatures when Kayla walked me to a place to sit before we sat down. I noticed a girl short brown hair and a headband reading a book. Meanwhile another group of light supernaturals came in with their lead a girl with white hair blue eyes and pale skin.

Wow I've never seen someone so pale. I thought

"that's Kisara, she's the lead of the Angels. Angels can find their mates through sensing their aura." The girl with the book said and looked over "I'm Nina, and you seem well human." "I am." I said

Suddenly one of the cupids came over sitting by me and I was shocked. Kayla was on guard but then there wasn't much we could do. The cupid in question smiled at me.

"Hey I senses someone new. Would you like a set up?" The cupid girl asked

"Uh.." I said

"She's a princess, she can't just marry anyone." Kayla said

"Kayla it's ok. What will happen?" I asked

"It's really simple, the potion only needs a strand of hair and when you drink it your true mate will shine." The cupid said

"That's it?" I asked

"That's it." The cupid said

I questioned if the girl was sincere and I decided to show a bit of good faith after all what more could I do. I took a piece of my hair and handed it to her and she took it then worked her magic.When she was done she handed me the Vial to drink.

"Drink up" The cupid said "Well here's to good faith." I said drinking it

Kayla seemed concerned but what more could I do at this point. I needed to win over the supernaturals that didn't know me. If only I'd known what I was getting into soon after drinking that potion.

What do you think will happen?

[themousefromfantasyland]

Undine

What about a spook fairy tale for Halloween?

As told by the guys at "Storynory" , loosely inspired by the novella of Friedrich De La Motte Fouqué

Illustrations by Arthur Rackham

There are many beings that we humans seldom see. For instance; there are salamanders who dance in the flames of the fire. Goblins hide away in the woods. Deep in the caves of the earth live the gnomes, and beneath the waves of the waters sprites and nymphs swim among the fish and the weeds.

Many hundreds of years ago, a fisherman lived between two supernatural worlds. His little cottage sat between a wood that was thick, tangled and haunted, and a lake that was the home to the water nymphs. By and large, the humans and the magical beings pretended not to notice each other.

Visitors to that part of the world were rare, and so when one evening when the fisherman saw the silhouette of a knight on horseback, he called to his wife to get ready to receive an guest. She prepared a tray with little glasses of spirit and a bowl of berries from the wood.

The fisherman called out, “Greetings Sir Knight, pay us the honour of a visit to our humble cottage.”

The knight was glad to find a roof where he might find food and shelter and he rode towards the fisherman’s home. By the time he reached it, the sky was already growing quite dark. The fisherman invited him to come inside. The knight sat in an armchair and put his leg up on a stool, for he had strained it. They could see that he was quite young, and good looking, if somewhat tired from his journey. He told them that his name was Sir Huldbrand, and that he had a castle that stood on the banks of the River Danube. While they were speaking, they heard a strange watery sound splashing against the window pain. The old man knotted his brow and looked troubled.

"Is it raining?" Huldbrand asked.

“No,” said the old man, as he got up and went to the door. He opened it and called out, “Undine, will you never stop playing these foolish tricks? We have a visitor.”

A few moments later, a girl’s voice said something like, “Don’t be so serious, father.” Huldbrand turned his head and saw a young woman of about eighteen years old stepping into the cottage. He had not expected to find anyone like her here. She was fair and very beautiful.

“And who’s this?” She said with a shrug and a little point at the knight. Her manner was quite insolent, but not without charm.

“Show more respect for our guest,” chided the fisherman’s wife, who was presumably also the girl’s mother.

“Does he talk?” Asked Undine, ignoring her parents discomfort.

“Forgive me,” said the knight. “I hurt my leg when I fell from my horse in the forest, and I am a little slow.” He clambered to his feet and gave a little bow to the girl.

She smiled ironically and said, “A proper knight, I see. And does he have a castle?”

“Undine, don’t be so rude!” Said her father.

Suddenly her eyes flashed with temper. “Well be like that then,” she said, and turning promptly around she headed back through the door into the night. They could hear her running down the path.

“Fiery!” Said the knight, almost approvingly. It was hard to tell if he was more astonished, or amused by her strange behaviour.

“She has always been one like that, ever since the day we found her,” said the mother.

“Found her?” Asked Huldbrand. “So she is not your daughter?”

“Not ours,” said the fisherman. “It is a strange story. Around fifteen years ago, I was returning from the market and making my way through the woods. As I was nearing home, I saw my wife running towards me. I knew something was up, because she never ventures into the woods normally.

“She’s gone, she’s gone,” she was crying. I knew right away that she could only mean our darling child, our little daughter. In fact, that very day she had just turned three years old, and I had a present for her in my sack. She had wondered out of the cottage, and all that was left of her was a blue cap floating on the water of the lake. She must have drowned. Perhaps a nymph pulled her under and took her for a sister in her watery kingdom.”

“We slept little that night, but in the morning we found, in the cot where our daughter normally slept, a little girl - but she was not ours. She was fair where our daughter was dark. She was Undine whom you have just seen, albeit briefly. Her hair and her clothes were wet. We assumed she had fallen in the lake. Of course we accepted the child as a gift from god. Although she has always been naughty, wilful, and strong-headed, we have always loved her like the daughter we lost.”

The knight was clearly fascinated by the tale. “Indeed what a strange story,” he said. “I hope she shall return because I would like to see more of this mysterious and beautiful creature.”

Just then, the wind howled through the trees, and rain began to beat down on the roof of the cottage.

“A storm!” Exclaimed the knight.

“We cannot let her stay out in such terrible weather,” and pulling his cloak over his head, he too went through the door of the cottage, and disappeared into the darkness.

The knight hobbled on his strained leg as fast as he could manage. He followed the path towards the haunted wood, as something told him that she had headed that way. He soon found that a stream was now gushing across the path. He was about to step into the torrent, when voice called out, “Do not step into the stream, it is full of mischief.” He looked up the hill, and could just make out that Undine was sitting on a little island in the middle of the stream. She was sheltered from the storm by the branches of a giant oak tree. The knight scrambled up the hill, and held out his hand to help her jump across onto the bank. “We must return home, your gentle and kind step parents are worried about you,” he said, spreading his cloak above their heads to protect them from the rain.

“I will do as you say,” she replied, “if you promise to tell me the story of your journey through the haunted wood.”

“I shall indeed,” said the knight, “It’s a strange story, though perhaps not by your standards, now hurry.” And they rushed as fast as they could, back to the cottage.

Later, as they dried out before the fire, the knight told Undine and her parents the strange story of how he came through the woods.

“A week ago, in the city on the other side of the woods, there was a holiday and a tournament. I took part in the jousting. Amongst the onlookers I saw a face that I liked. She was a maiden; dark, and beautiful.

I rode up and asked her for her favour. She told me, "This sport is for boys. If you wish to win my favour, you must ride through the woods to the lake on the other side, and report back to me with news of whatever or whoever you find there."

I knew, of course, that the woods were supposed to be haunted, but I do not fear spectres or magical creatures. The next day I set out on my quest, and indeed I found a nest of goblins living in the trunk of a great tree. They were far more afraid of me than I was of their ugly green faces and pointed ears. I rode on. But then, towards night, I felt a chill on my back. I looked around and saw strange white figure running towards me. My horse took fright and reared. I tried to reign him in, but I fell from my saddle. That was how I hurt my leg. The strange figure had vanished. I felt unwell, and quite chilled to the bones, but I managed to gather my horse and ride on. Eventually I came out of the other side and saw the calm blue waters of the lake. That was when I knew I was near the end of my quest. I heard your kind voice offering me hospitality, and here I am. Do you find my story strange?”

“No,” said the girl. “The white man was Kühleborn. He is a demon of the lake and the forest, and he was up to his usual tricks. I am glad you were not hurt more badly when you fell from your horse.”

Now the time for stories was over, and they all found places to sleep in corners of the cottage. In the morning the storm was still raging, and the stream had grown more fierce. It was not safe to cross, and they were cut off from the way back to the city. For the next few days, the weather did not improve. Huldbrand and Undine spent much time together. She was less wilful now, and did no more than tease her knight gently. Her step parents could see that he was very taken with her.

When eventually the weather was good enough to go out, they ventured for a walk into the edge of the woods. When they returned, the knight asked the fisherman permission to marry his step daughter, which of course he granted.

That evening, there was a knock at the door. The fisherman opened and saw that standing before him was a priest. His robes were wet. He explained that he had stumbled into the stream while crossing it. “Father, come in and sit before the fire,” said the fisherman, kindly.

“We have work for you to do this very evening,” declared Undine. "For you can repay my step father’s hospitality by marrying me to my beloved knight!"

Undine insisted, as always, on having her way. She had a further surprise, for she revealed that in her little box of possessions she somehow had two gold rings that were ideal for the ceremony. That evening, when the priest was sufficiently dried out, they kneeled before him, exchanged their vows, and were married.

That might sound like classic fairy tale ending, but the story has some way to go yet. About a week later, Sir Huldbrand set out for his castle, taking his new wife and her step parents with him. The priest accompanied them too, for the evil things of the forest respected him, and would do the little party no harm, so long as the priest was with them. Occasionally they caught glimpses of the strange man in white, who seemed to be flittering from tree to tree, but Undine said in a low voice to her husband, “Do not be afraid. That is Lord Kühleborn, and he is my uncle. He is pleased that I am married to you for this was his plan all along.”

“There are so many strange things about you,” said the knight, “that I cannot possibly hope to understand them all.”

They walked through the forest without any untoward incidents, and on the other side hired to carriage to take his family to the castle in comfort.

The knight installed his beautiful young wife and her family in his castle. For a while, their happiness was perfect. But before long, in the long dark passages of the old castle, spectres began to appear. The servants were terrified, and even Sir Huldbrand found that strange, eerie sounds disturbed his sleep.

One morning Undine ordered some men to take a large stone and cover over the fountain in the courtyard. Huldbrand had loved the fountain since boyhood. Its water danced and played in the sunlight.

He asked his wife why she had ordered it to be stopped up, and she replied, “It will prevent my uncle, Lord Kühleborn, from disturbing us.” And from that moment on, haunting of the castle ceased.

A few weeks later, the knight received a small gift. It was a green lady’s glove, and to it was pinned a message:

"Is it worthy of a knight to forget his promise to a maiden?" It was signed with the name, Bertilda

When he read the note, Sir Huldbrand recalled the reason that he had made the journey to through the forest to the lake. He had been given the other glove of the pair by the maiden, Bertilda, and had promised to report to her with whatever he found in the lake by the forest. What could he do? A knight must keep his troth. He sent word inviting her and her parents to the castle. As it so happened, they arrived on the day of Undine’s 19th birthday. Sir Huldbrand received them with Undine at his side and said, “My Lady, you sent me on a quest to the lake beyond the woods, and asked me to show you what I found there - And here she is, my wife.”

He was not so naive as to think that Bertilda would be pleased by this news, but she smiled graciously.

Her father said, “Although I call myself the father of Bertilda and think of her as my own daughter, in fact, many years ago I found her abandoned in those very same woods. She was wet and cold and could not say where she lived. I took her home and feared that she might die of a fever, but as you see, things turned out well. Although we cannot know her true birthday, we have always celebrated it on this very day, which is the anniversary of my finding her.”

That evening they held a double celebration, with feasting, and music and dancing. But Sir Huldbrand noticed that the wife of the fisherman was staring at Bertilda. One time when the orchestra stopped playing, she flung her arms around Bertilda and said out loud so that all could hear, “My child!”

Bertilda pushed her away and said, “She’s lying, it’s not true!”

But the woman insisted, “I feel it. She is my child”

“How dare you say such lies,” called back Bertilda. “You accuse me of being the daughter of a wretched fisherman! You are a demoness!”

“She has grown wicked,” said the fisherman’s wife, “but still I know she is mine.”

“And I feel it too,” said her husband.

By now the argument was quite heated. The whole court was watching the quarrel unfold. Undine stepped forward to embrace Bertilda, “It’s true. You are my sister,” she said, “not by birth, but because we shared the same parents who cared for us.”

Later that night, Sir Huldbrand sat alone with his wife. He said, “Now it is time for you to tell me your story.”

She explained that her uncle, Lord Kühleborn, had taken the little girl, Bertilda, away from her true parents, the fisherman and her wife. In her place, she had given them his niece, Undine. She had been born as a water nymph. Water ran in her veins, and she could change shape at will. It was her nature to be mischievous and play tricks. And yet, it had always always been her dream to know what it felt like to have a human heart. Now that he had married her, that dream had become true. She had flesh and blood and feelings. So long as his love remained true, she would remain a mortal and live by his side.

Even in the morning, the stubborn Bertilda would not accept the kindly fisherman and his wife as her true parents. They were so broken hearted, that they left the castle and returned to their cottage. Her own foster parents were angry with her, and she quarrelled with them too. Yet she remained friends with Undine, and lingered on in the castle. Sir Huldbrand, Undine, and Bertilda would often go around together, walking arm-in-arm, and the trio were almost inseparable. Then one day, as they walked along the banks of the River Danube, Bertilda said “Oh, how I wish that one day I could see Vienna!”

“Yes, wouldn’t that be just splendid?” Agreed Undine. How could the noble Sir Huldbrand refuse the entreaties of two such beautiful ladies? He ordered for arrangement to be made, and a boat was prepared so that they could sale along the Danube to Vienna.

At first the pleasure cruise went smoothly, but then Undine’s Uncle, Lord Kühleborn, could not help but get up to his old tricks. He sent large waves to rock the boat from side to side, and made everyone on board feel sick. At night, he howled like the wind and kept them awake. Even Sir Huldbrand, was feeling quite terrible. Bertilda, who was practically green with motion sickness, complained to him, “If you had married me, a true woman, you would not have all these problems. Even if my parents truly are that wretched old couple, at least I do not have demons for relatives.”

Hulbrand, who as not at all himself, staggered up onto the deck where he found Undine staring at the choppy waves. Her face was white and her blond hair was blowing in the wind. He chided her and asked, “Can’t you do anything to stop your uncle?”

Undine said simply, “I can but try.” She went to stand in the prow of the boat and called out, “My Own Uncle, Lord Kühleborn, can you not accept that I am human now? You must leave me and my husband in peace!” Her voice had a magical, ethereal quality.

When he heard his niece, Lord Kühleborn rose his ghostly white head out of the waters before the ship. The sailors screamed as he picked up the prow and sent them all slipping and sliding across the deck, and to the back of the boat. At that moment, as he two was scrambling to get a hold of a rope or a mast, Huldbrand called, “Oh, why did I not marry Bertilda when I had the chance?”

These words went straight to Undine’s heart and shattered it. Her face was almost transparent. Her body took on a semi-liquid form, half woman - half water, and she slipped over the side of the boat and into the swirling River Danube.

Huldbrand clasped the rail and called after her, “Undine, forgive me, I did not mean what I said,” but it was too late - she was gone. The river was calm once again.

Huldbrand and Bertilda returned to the castle, and some time later they were married. One morning, Bertilda ordered the great stone to be removed from the fountain. Once again the waters played as cheerily as in Huldbrand’s boyhood. But that night, a watery apparition slid out of the well, and ran up the stairs of the castle. It flowed under the door of the room where Huldbrand slept beside his wife. The drops of water reformed themselves in the shape of a beautiful young woman. She placed her lips on the cheek of the knight as he slept, and she kissed him. In that moment, he was dead.

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy is somebody you used to know

Whitmore Guy masterlist

word count: 1657

music: werld is mine by raleigh ritchie, quit by lil aaron

That night was brief, dark, and she didn’t sleep well. As she left the guest room before going to sleep, she heard voices in the living room downstairs. Coming back to her door, she spotted Mal who was standing in the next doorframe, holding on to the handle, and watched her silently. He gave her a little wave with his face expressing nothing.

“Good night”, he said. She blinked and went inside, locked her door and kept looking at it until she fell asleep. Mal, standing ten steps away from her, in the dark corridor, watching her, watching her when she didn’t realize he was, followed her into her dreams.

 _________________________________

Every morning he stood at the mirror and looked at himself, and admired. Freedom suited him. Being unknown freshened his attitude. Nobody hunted him, nobody looked at him like at a parasite. People really stopped noticing, at some point, the way they looked at him, and just went on with their condescending hatred, sitting there on their high horses, judging him day and night. Now, they looked at him and only saw what he wanted them to see, and that was the best gift he ever got in his life. Every morning he looked in the mirror, excited, and tried to guess what nice things he’d hear. Mal, you look good today. Great idea, Mal, you rule. Mal, what would I do without you?

The only thing that didn’t change was the way she looked at him. He admired himself even more for that, for striking that perfect balance and still having it, ah, screw this, he admired them both. Her, for being true to him even though she didn’t know she’s being loyal. And himself, for still being him –

“Kai Parker”, he said to his mirror every morning, and as he watched the mouth move together with the words he heard, it reassured him. He did it every day like a prayer, so that he himself wouldn’t forget. After everything he’s been through, reminding himself who he was seemed like a logical precaution. He couldn’t imagine staying Mal Osbourne forever. Having an apartment that’s in one place, having insurance and a job – that mortified him. All these things that settle you as a human – ew, scary. Pretending to be human was only as good as the food he could get.

What if that what it took though? As he looked at himself in the mirror that morning, standing in one of the Salvatore’s many bathrooms, he was listening to the house. It was seven in the morning, and he never needed more than three hours of sleep anymore. Sometimes even less. He was just so full of energy ever since he came back. His walking battery was at a hand’s reach. She was still asleep next door, and he could hear her erratic, restless breathing. Might as well peep inside and give her better dreams before going to work. Bon Bon is having an unhappy breakfast downstairs and clings her spoon on the walls of the cup every time. She always clings her spoon on the walls of her cups, and it drives Kai crazy. Frankly, back when they were in the prison world, there was a point at which he asked himself whether there was a time loop and Bonnie Bennett entered his realm when he was a kid and drove him crazy by clinging a spoon against the walls of her tea cup.

Salvatore brothers created constant humming talking in the library in their low voices. Elena was making coffee, and the delicious smell of it crawled down the carpets and penetrated under the doors, making him agitated. Kai and Mal, they both loved a good cup of coffee, although Y/N, both past and present, said it was bad for him because he’s naturally hyperactive. It’s funny how Damon achieved nothing by throwing him into oblivion. He was still the same, only with a different name. She still loved him the same, the same happy flickering in her eyes, from the second she saw him. She said all the same things as before, and it was so easy, so obvious that they were meant for each other it was laughable.

Kai has reached the point at which he thought she’d go with anything he does. Normal people don’t do it. Normal people? They caught him, tied him down, stripped him of his magic and pushed him out of existence.

She wasn’t normal, and she was his.

Caroline said her goodbyes and slammed the door like the psycho she was.

Kai stopped himself. Is he thinking about them with adoration? In an ah, these idiots doing their morning shenanigans and I know them so well way?

He gave himself a frown in the mirror and then couldn’t stop himself from smiling. The only adorable thing here was this young man. Who’s going to work right now, but before, he has to take care of his girlfriend’s nightmares.

He cracked the door open, putting on the cloak of invisibility just in case – house was still full of vampires. Stepping to her bed, he recalled how she tried to call him out yesterday: you were watching me sleep.

Honey, I was doing so much more, he thought.

He kneeled down before the bed and touched her forehead carefully, sucking a bit of magic from her, and returning it straight back with a chant. Touching her was the means to read her mind, and he took a peek of what she was seeing in her bleak dreams. Ever since he went away all the memories of her father got distorted. She lacked what she needed, to be restful about his death. Kai Parker wasn’t in her mind, and consequently, the idea of apathy and peace knowing that he took care of everything was absent, too. Every time he thought about it, about Damon mutilating her mind like that, he got angry.

She sighed deeply, and Kai crept out of the room, closing the door and forgetting to lock it again. He was thinking about coffee.

“Smells so-o good”, he crashed the quiet conversation Elena and Bonnie were having as he entered the kitchen. He put his elbows on the counter, eyeing both girls and thinking about how he would dismember them both right here on the table. Okay, they seemed relatively okay when they weren’t in front of his eyes. Every time he looked into Bon Bon’s eyes, all he could think of was how she stole all his magic and watched as Salvatore dicks were dragging him across the cave to the pit.

“Can I have some, too?”

“Sorry, I’m almost running late. It’s on”, Elena said, and gave Bonnie a look they both thought he didn’t notice.

“What kind of coffee is it?” he asked, circling the counter and watching the coffee pot over Elena’s shoulder. She stepped away, uncomfortable.

“The ordinary…”

“Why are you up so early?” Bonnie demanded. She looked at him bravely, her voice loud and clear. Kai looked at her innocently.

“Bad at sleeping. Really, really bad. I barely sleep, ever, I’m like an anxiety machine”.

He grinned.

“Worried about all those bodies?” she asked coldly. Elena stepped away even more and grabbed on the table, watching them both. Kai sighed, crossing his arms.

“Well, as you know, I’m not huge on empathy… I mean, I’m sure those people were nice and all”. He shrugged.

“All I care about is Y/N to be honest”.

“What happened to Martha Hopps?”

“She’s dead. I’ve moved on”.

He took a big mug off the hanger and started making himself coffee.

“In two weeks?” Bonnie went on. He wasn’t looking at her, hiding a wicked grin. Why couldn’t he ever stop smiling when he interacted with them? It was always so funny. He was afraid he’d start laughing one day and completely blow it.

“Yeah. Her death was so violent, it traumatized me big time, and I kind of disassociated”.

He heard all these words from Y/N in the past life and learned to apply them.

“And Y/N’s still alive, and her ex-crush seems to go round killing everybody, so…”

“Why are you so sure it’s Damon?” Elena asked.

Kai gave her his most serious look.

“I know you’re friends. But take this from a person who’s unbiased: Damon is a violent, unpredictable, cruel perso- vampire. You know he’s done something to Y/N back in November, right?”

He turned to the witch, too, waiting until his words sunk in.

“What do you mean?”

He scratched the tip of his nose.

“She’s certain he’s done something and then took her memories away. She says she’s been feeling very weird for the past seven months”.

He shrugged again like it didn’t matter to him.

“I don’t know, he just seems super freaky, that’s all I’m saying”.

Elena rolled her eyes.

“The only freaky person here is you”, Bonnie snarled. She stopped moving her spoon, and Kai exhaled, relieved.

“You show up out of nowhere and follow her around. And I know you lurk on her, Mal. I’m a witch and I know things”.

“I know you know”.

“And? You wanna explain?”

He cocked his head and took his mug from the counter.

“Nah. I’m not the person you should be concerned about. There’s a killer among you. And it’s not me. Soon your town will be on the lockdown because he kills people in packs. And you worry about me being obsessive over a girl who’s into it”.

Elena’s eyes widened. He smiled.

“She came in on us yesterday”.

Bonnie’s eyes darted to her friend. Elena bit her lip and nodded shortly.

He started gulping his coffee under Bennett’s testing sight.

“Freak”, she said under his breath, and his mood changed to worse. There was no way he’d ever win this one over. He’d better kill her off and stop worrying about it once and for all.

[laurelleghuleh]

OCAF | Ch. 9 “Wounds”

Warnings: read the masterlist first and check Alec’s chart

Songs: “The One That Got Away (Acoustic Version)” by Katy Perry, “Hurt” by Christina Aguilera, “Carousel” by Melanie Martinez.

DAPHNE’S POV

˜ FLASHBACK ˜

The first time Alec arrived at the brothel he was just 15. His father wanted to introduce him to his job, to secure his position and future. Very thoughtful of his, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had just brought a little lamb in the lion’s cage.

Alec was already tall for his age, but he kept growing in height until he was almost 6’0. And yet his body stayed pretty slender and delicate. It quite matched his sweet features and manners. Alec was the purest soul I’ve ever met in my entire, albeit short, life.

At first, he just had to take care of the few horses and carriages the Master possessed. Animals didn’t quite like the Underground’s environment, so Alec and his father were the only ones allowed to go on the surface to go for a ride or escort the Master somewhere.

He wasn’t authorized to talk to us or even enter the brothel: us girls were off-limits. But, eventually, we found our ways to meet him. There weren’t many nice and young people around the building. And as good-looking as him.

Nina and I weren’t on the same page about Alec. She used to bully him all the time, calling him whiner or pussy. On the contrary, I’ve always known he was one of a kind. And to be honest, he was so nice that even the Master started to like him and became more indulgent with him. That’s when he softened and I formally met Alec for the first time.

I remember that one of my first training with my Master’s goons didn’t end well for me. I had bruises and wounds all over my body and face, and I couldn’t even stand up properly. I don’t know what I was expecting, they had never been the kindest.

However, long story short, that day I was a literal mess and as I was trying to pull myself together, I crawled to the nearest place, looking for some water and rest: the stable.

As soon as Alec saw me, he ran towards me and started stuttering anxious and incoherent phrases. He took care of me and since that day, after each training he would have waited for me to spend some time together, talking, playing with the horses, walking around the building, or just enjoying our company, in silence.

We tried our best to not get caught as we treasured those moments together just for ourselves.

“So?? Did that scrawny ass boy have the courage to kiss you this time?” said Nina, when I entered the kitchen. “What the fuck are you talking about, Nina??” I promptly replied. “Daphne! Pretty please, stop swearing…” complained Abigail “Well, did he proposed???” then added full of curiosity. “WHAAAAT?? EXCUSE ME???” I shouted.

“Oh, c’mon Daphne. it’s so obvious that even Sae-jin got it!” screamed Ruth walking in the room. “Don’t pull me in. I don’t give a damn about what she does with that poor boy…” calmly stated Sae-jin, leaving the room and dragging away with her Eve, who as usual was not understanding much.

Sae-jin was always so avoidant. But how could I blame her? The girls could get pretty annoying sometimes. Well, always.

“Ok, now I’m losing my patience…” I sighed “You’re totally misunderstanding the situation. Alec and I are just good friends” I declared. “I couldn’t care less how you call each other. Friends, brothers, potatoes…” started again Nina, now reaching for Ruth, who instantly intercepted her gesture and sprinted to sit on her lap.

Nina was always too casual when it came to those things. Whenever we were alone - which happened very frequently given that we were almost inseparable - she used to tell me: “They told us what to do with our bodies, but this…” she pointed at my head “… and this…” and then at my heart “are only ours, or of those to whom we choose to dedicate them”.

I knew she was talking from experience. Among us, she was the best at faking the whole thing, the clients loved her, but she was nobody’s property but Ruth’s. And vice versa. “Remember doll, loving and fucking are two different things… Well, if you find someone who can give you both, then… Lucky you” and then laughed out loud.

I never fully grasped what she meant. At that time, I knew so little about relationships, love, desires, but I wanted to know more, to learn more about myself, my true self, the one I couldn’t talk to anyone about.

Eventually, I figured it out in the oddest way: the thing I despised more than anything else, sex, taught me the most about the others, myself, and my relationship with others. So little could be hidden to two naked bodies, two stripped minds. But that’s a lesson I learned only once out of th brothel, years later.

But still, at that time, love was only a mysterious word in Martha’s stupid fairytales, in Chadia’s past affairs she used to tell us about, and in Nina’s mischievous hints.

“Girls… Geez, we didn’t kiss! And never we will!” I stated, getting nervous. “Ok, one more week. I bet tonight tips” whispered Ruth in Nina’s ear. “Deal” said Nina. Abigail chuckled watching my frustrated reaction. Those were our little innocent moments. Just the calm before the storm.

Eventually, that day arrived. I knew Alec had a crush on me, but I always avoided thinking about it too much, until that day. I was hanging the laundry on the rooftop of the building when Alec came to me mumbling some nonsense. “Alec, are you high or something?” I teased him. He frowned making a hilarious puppy face. He always looked so innocent even when he was angry.

“N-no. No, please Daphne, let me finish” he said. “Boy, you didn’t even start” I laughed. He couldn’t stand my attitude anymore, so he rushed towards me, making his way through the bright blankets swaying in the air. And there, hidden by their motion, he stole me a kiss.

He immediately took a step back. One kiss gave him enough courage to say: “I like you, Daphne. I like you a lot. I liked you since the first day I saw you through the window. And I think I’ll like you forever…” he said all in one breath.

I blinked, unable to say a single word. I knew I liked him too, but I could already tell the difference between our feelings. And I believe he knew that too. Since I couldn’t stand lying to him, I didn’t say anything and I just hugged him tightly.

I knew that wasn’t love, but Alec always made me feel safe and understood, so I swallowed my indecision and gave it a try. I was so young and naive.

I used to sneak out at night, climbing down my window, to meet him at the stable. I was always the one who initiated every make-out session and Alec seemed to appreciate it, but he was already content with my presence, he simply enjoyed my company. Instead, I craved to be touched by him, by someone who cared about me, for once. I craved it like I was starving and avidly trying to figure out something, someone. Probably myself.

We successfully kept it on the down-low for more than a year. When I turned 20, he surprised me with a gift: a knife, with a capital D he personally engraved on the hilt. I couldn’t stop thanking him, when, at some point, he came up with “I know you can handle yourself, but I want you to be safe. Whatever happens”.

“Alec, you’re such a party pooper. Don’t be so dramatic, I’ll be fiiiine. But still thank you so-“. “No, Daphne, you don’t get it” he interrupted me “Trust me. Things are taking a turn for the worst. The Master is getting himself into… into some deep shit”. “Alec Reed. Did you just say the s-word??” I sarcastically added. But his face was so serious I almost got scared.

“Things are about to go down, Daphne. Please, carry this thing with you… Oh, I almost forgot about it. Here, I also made this” he said handing me a short leather belt with a little pocket designed for the knife. “You can put it around your…” he coughed “…thigh”.

His little speech literally gave me chills and I desperately wanted to change the subject, so I seized the moment. “Oh, well… since you thought about this belt on my thigh…” I seductively said, raising my skirt up, exposing my leg “…Why don’t you show me how you imagined it” I suggested.

He almost choked at my words, causing me to laugh out loud. I hugged him once again, thinking that the heavens had sent him to me. I kissed him on the cheek, thanking him again, and then I rushed back inside since our little time was quickly coming to an end. But his words stuck inside my head for days, weeks, months, until his prophecy took place.

My last year at the brothel was nothing but a sequence of tragedies. One day Eve found Chadia’s lifeless body and after a couple of months, Sae-jin and her lover, Colton, were brutally murdered by the Master, who found out about their complot against him. Tabitha was given as wife (well, sold) to an unknown client and at some point, Abigail started to act quite strangely around me, almost avoiding me.

That chain of catastrophes ended with my worst nightmare: Alec’s execution.

One night, after climbing back to my window, I found two guards waiting for me in my room. One of them quickly grabbed a fist of my hair, shoved me down to the stairs and then dragged me to the back of the brothel. And there I saw them.

Alec was on his knees and around him stood other guards in a semi-circle. I tried to call Alec but he didn’t seem to even notice me. His eyes were fixed on the ground, his hands behind his back and his body shaking. “Alec, what’s going on…” I murmured again.

“Oh babygirl, you know what is going on…” my Master’s voice echoed behind me. His filthy hands caressed my skin, from my collarbone to my chin, as he spoke again “Boy, look up, look up at me when I'm talking”. Alec immediately obeyed. His face was swollen and his eyes glassy and red. “Alec…” I whispered in disbelief, shaking my head.

“See? You see this?” The Master said brushing his index along my cheek and then fiercely grabbing my jaw “This is my property… Everything here is my property… I trusted you boy. But I think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew”. “No… No... Please no” I whispered as tears streamed down my face. He was right: I knew what was going on.

The Master nodded and all his little dogs moved quickly, obeying him. A second just before that, Alec’s lips moved to tell me something that I wasn’t quick enough to catch. Soon the Master’s goons were over him, ruthlessly punching and kicking him.

I started to scream and as soon as I tried to move forwards the Master fiercely grabbed me, blocking my arms behind my back and holding my jaw in Alec’s direction so tightly he was bruising my skin. I fidgeted in his grip and while I was sobbing uncontrollably, he whispered in my ear “Oh no no no, babygirl. I want you to watch this veeeery carefully… I want you to learn a little lesson today… Nobody touches what’s mine”.

I couldn’t stay still in the Master’s hands. I couldn’t stand that view anymore but he was so massive and definitely stronger than me at that time. On the corner of my eye, on the left, I saw a couple of other guards holding a man: Alec’s father. His face was stoic, his body firm. He didn’t even notice me: he was "watching carefully, trying to learn a little lesson that day".

When they were done with Alec, the Master let go of me and my body fell heavily on the ground, exhausted. Alec was left on the ground, lifeless and alone. His dad immediately walked away as I crawled to Alec's body, calling his name softly “Alec… Alec… “. My hands stood in front of his black and blue face. I didn’t dare to even touch him like I was in front of something unreal.

Words seemed to get trapped in my throat and my mind completely blanked out. I don’t know how much time passed, but at a certain point, a sweet voice whispered in my ear “Let’s go, doll…”. I immediately sensed Nina’s strong hands lifting me and carrying me up to my room. I desperately clung to her body as we made our way back into the building.

That night I did learn a lesson: The Master would have paid for all of that. But revenge is a dish best served cold and the night I escaped from the brothel I left my sister Abigail Alec’s knife: just one knife wouldn’t have been enough for my plan.

˜

Trying to not think about Levi’s lips on me was impossible. Even if I promised to myself to cut him out of my mind, that night I allowed myself to repeat that scene, that feeling several times again in my head until I went numb and fell asleep. I felt helpless against those thoughts and I let them get the better of me. Just for tonight…I thought.

Another day came and I told myself that that fantasy wouldn’t have left my room, it would have died there within its walls. As soon as I see him again, let’s make things clear before anything else happens. Confident, I went straight down to the cafeteria, but Levi was nowhere to be found.

On the right corner of my eye, I sensed Mikasa, shily waving at me, and Sasha energetically gesturing me to join them for breakfast. “Where is Eren?” I said at some point. Well, where is Levi? I actually thought. “I was thinking the same thing…” mumbled Mikasa. “Maybe he’s just with the captain and his squad, or with Hange” suggested Armin, trying to comfort her.

I decided to use that spare time to practice my future speech in my mind. "Levi, let’s stop making out in the kitchen. Ok, thank you for your kind attention, bye". No, this is absolutely ridiculous. I sound like I want to make out somewhere else. Oh, breakfast is over. And as I got up from the table I kept thinking of some other smarter alternatives.

"Levi, don’t you ever kiss me again". Are you sure you want to say that, Daphne? asked that annoying voice in my head. Sure. Absolutely. "Levi, don’t come closer to me ever again ". Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. "Levi, stop...". And as my feet unconsciously followed the others into the hallway and my mind wandered looking for other excuses, I sensed a presence behind me and a hand grabbing my left arm.

Then, suddenly, a warm breath tickled my ear, saying: "When you’re done with the lesson, meet me at the stable. I’ll wait for you". Levi. I instantly froze, unable to take another step forward, and my lips slightly parted, as if I had just seen a ghost.

As soon as I felt that presence moving away from me, a cold shiver ran down my back. He never failed to make me feel so fucking helpless. I turned around and saw the Captain join the rest of the squad, going in the opposite direction. Among the soldiers, I saw Eren, who waved at me and thankfully woke me from that momentary paralysis.

"When you’re done with the lesson, meet me at the stable. I’ll wait for you. When you’re done with the lesson, meet me at the stable. I’ll wait for you. Meet me at the stable. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you". Stop, stop, stop. STOP. This must end now.

When we arrived in the classroom, we were greeted by a couple of team leaders standing in front of a huge green board. A few steps from them Commander Erwin Smith was waiting for us all to take the seat. As soon as he got our full attention, he started talking "Cadets, welcome. Before class starts, I wanted to carve out a moment to talk to you".

I looked around quickly. Everyone seemed completely fascinated by Erwin’s words. The only thing I could think of, looking at him, was a huge fucking obstacle, the wall standing between me and my true freedom. "The next expedition will start in less than 48 hours. I hope no one wants to pull back at this point" he lightly laughed, looking at the other team leaders.

"I hope not... especially since I hope that each of you will understand your invaluable value. Each of you is a key piece in this plan. Each of you is a key piece in the victory of mankind over titans. Your life and death will have meaning far beyond human understanding. Sacrifice your hearts for mankind".

I only needed those 10 minutes in his presence to truly understand Commander Smith. It wasn’t just his always right choice of words, his statuesque physique, or the charm of his reputation. No. It was his aura. It reminded me of the same feeling Levi gave me. They were men of power, because they emanated that power, in their gestures, in their gaze, even in the tone of their voice.

At that point, if Commander Smith had ordered me to make him soup, I would have made it on the spot. "Well, my time is up. See you at the departure, soldiers," he said, looking at us with severity and pride, and then, after our salute, he left.

Shortly after, the squad leader Ness took the floor. He was in charge of making a general explanation for the expedition. He clarified the main goals, the equipment and the distinction of the different colors of the signal flares, and other basic rules. In the afternoon, the various units would have more information from their captains on their position and strategy.

I did my best to concentrate but Levi’s words still echoed in my head. "I’ll wait for you". Commander Erwin had not hesitated to mention our possible - and statistical - death during the mission. If I don’t want to die, I’d better listen more carefully.

Wrong move. Erwin’s speech had a whole other heaviness than Levi’s vague hint. It was life or death, and at that point, I no longer knew which one of those damn two was driving me nuts.

After the lesson, I immediately went to the stable. Look at you, what are you? His puppy? So obedient... Look at you wagging your tail... teased me a voice in my head. I wanted to confront Levi about the other night, now more than ever.

Once at the threshold of the stable I couldn't see anyone and so, I entered the shed starting the monologue that I had prepared before.

"Look, Levi, I don’t have much time to waste... Levi. Where the hell are you... Levi? Are you here?" I have a bad feeling about this. While I was still calling his name, at a certain point someone called mine: "Daphne?". That was definitely not Levi.

Eren jumped out of a corner and I instantly froze. Then he added, "Here you are! We were waiting for you," and so I turned around. Behind my back, the whole - I repeat, the whole - Levi Squad was preparing their horses. Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Among them, Levi was staring at me with his hands on the hips and the smug look of someone who seemed to have just won a bet or something. As if that wasn’t enough, in addition to that temporary shame, seeing Levi after that kiss was just torture. I could still feel his hands and the icy peppermint aftertaste of his breath all over me.

Once I found a crumb of courage, I managed to simulate a shy salute.

"So how did it go with Commander Smith? Did he scare you enough?" Petra asked me, laughing. "Yep" I replied. "C’mon, get a move on," Levi said harshly. I looked at him, quite confused. “I need to talk to you all about the expedition," he added.

"Oh, wait, Captain! Before we go..." Petra started talking again "Here, Daphne, from now on this is yours!". She handed me a green cape with the wings of freedom on the back. Once I wore it, Petra said: "Wow, green is definitely your color, Daphne!"

I looked around and immediately saw Gunther saying, almost blushing, "Indeed. It looks really good on you, Daphne". Then again, I felt that familiar feeling of being watched intensely. I slightly turned my head to intercept Levi’s reaction, who was checking me from head to toe. I don’t know what I’d give to know what’s on his mind sometimes...

"Yeah, sure" Oruo muttered, rolling his eyes and jumping on the saddle. Eld gave me a nod and followed his comrade. The others joined them and then I heard a trot getting closer behind me. Levi was walking towards me with two horses beside him.

Handing me the reins of my horse, he silently approached me, with his usual composed expression. So, I started to say, "Look, Levi, first...", but he immediately interrupted me: "What is it? Were you expecting a romantic rendezvous with me in the stable?"

"No" I quickly answered in a frustrated tone "First of all, I’m sorry for calling you by your name… I didn’t know-“. “I couldn’t care less” he interrupted me and then walked away. “HEY! I’M NOT DONE TALKING!” I shouted back at him. He immediately turned around, looking at me wide-eyed, quite surprised by my tone.

“Secondly…” I coughed “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night in the kitc-". But Levi didn’t, again, let me finish the sentence, and getting practically under my nose he said: "I think you were pretty clear about it. We shouldn’t have kissed, right?".

I didn’t know what to say and Levi knew perfectly well how uncomfortable he was making me. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows as if he wanted a quick answer from me. (Poorly) faking a bold attitude, I gave him a wide smile as if to confirm his insinuation and so I began to exit the stable.

But just when I was a few inches away from him, Levi started talking again: "I’m sorry Daphne, I really can’t do this". I couldn’t tell by his tone if he was sad, serious, or almost angry when he said those words. "Me neither, Captain," I told him, showing off the most impassive face I could do, and so I went out, without looking back.

When we reached the others, we set off, riding for a good half an hour. Once we reached an isolated place, we got off the horse and Eld began to explain to us the strategy for the expedition. Our position would have been in the rear. Our only goal was to protect Eren.

"I have reason to believe that Commander Smith is hiding something from us... like a second target of the mission," Eld suggested. "Are you doubting the Commander?" Oruo tried to insinuate. "I’m just saying, there’s a good chance this mission is just a test. A simulation to see if it is possible to reach the district of Shiganshina" Eld declared, instantly interrupting him.

While the rest of the squad seemed to discuss it without much concern, Eren and I were visibly confused. So, I turned around to look for Levi. I needed some reassurance. Meanwhile, he had been on the sidelines, caressing his horse’s mane, enjoying the light breeze of that day. He caught me staring, turned his face and with his lips mimed a "What are you looking at?". This man...

Soon after, Eld specified to Eren and me that those instructions were absolutely confidential and no one outside of our squad should know Eren’s position. We both responded with a firm nod.

Back at the base, Levi coldly dismissed us saying: "Well, that’s all for today. If you want to continue your training, the courtyard is at your disposal. Tomorrow, enjoy your day off. We will meet the day after tomorrow, at dawn, before departure. You can go now"

I looked at Levi one last time. So that’s it? That’s really it? I thought.

That night and the whole next day I did my best to escape Levi. At meals, I tried to avoid his table, and I dedicated the day before the expedition trying to make be more friendly with the other soldiers. "Be more sociable," you said to me that night, right? So, I’ll do my best, Captain.

After dinner, I was invited by Eren to spend some time together with the other before the departure. The concern for the next expedition was getting heavier and the mere thought of having to socialize more hourse did nothing but make the situation worse. So, I went to the kitchen to get a cup of chamomile tea. I needed to calm down.

LEVI’S POV

I started to believe that castle was haunted for real. That damn kitchen reminded me of those few but indelible memories with Daphne... and yet after a restless wandering in the halls I found myself there again, on the doorstep looking at her as she stared out of the window.

I watched her take the pot from the stove and pour it somewhere, maybe into the cup she supposedly had prepared before. I started to make my way into the room, trying to come up with something reasonable to say to her.

As soon as I got close to her, Daphne turned around. "Captain" she saluted me coldly and then left without adding anything else, holding in her hands the fuming cup. Say something, you idiot, I ordered myself. But nothing came out.

As soon as I realized I was alone in the room a growl of frustration slipped out of my mouth. Damn it. But maybe it was a sign for both of us to forget about what happened between us. Nothing. It meant nothing.

Then, looking up from the ground, I noticed something strange on the cabinet: another fuming cup, placed on a tiny tissue, on which my name had been written.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Six

A couple of days have passed since the group's trip up the Rock of Ravatogh. They were currently back in Lestallum, heading toward the gas station on the main road. "Don't wanna keep Cid and Cindy waiting. They're fixin' up the boat as we speak," Gladio stated.

"We ought to thank them," Ignis said.

"Actually, Jared's the one we oughta thank."

"Yeah..." Prompto mumbled melancholically. "He really thought of everything."

Noctis and the others meet up with Iris at the Coernix Station, where she awaits them beside the Regalia. "Filled 'er up for ya!" She chanted when she turned and saw the group approaching.

"Thanks," Gladio said to his younger sister.

"So, um..." Prompto glanced around the large group. "How is this gonna work? There's six of us, but only five seats."

"Oh..." Iris mumbled in realization. "Maybe I should-"

(Y/n) quickly interrupted the young girl. "I've my own ride. Iris will ride in the backseat with Noctis and Gladio."

Gladio crossed his arms with a smirk. "More surprises for us?"

"More or less," she grins. Lifting her hand, she placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled. A cloud of smoke surrounded the group before dissipating. Standing a few feet in front of Pestilence was a horse.

Iris gasped, placing her hands over her mouth in shock. "How did you...?"

"This is Erra, my loyal steed. He will be my ride," (Y/n) exclaimed.

Gladio explained to his sister who the white-haired girl truly was while the horse meandered away from his rider and seemed to be attracted to Ignis. His hooves clicked against the pavement as he approached the strategist. Ignis wasn't fazed, more shocked than anything, as Erra sniffed the front of his dress shirt.

Pestilence watched with a giggly grin plastered on her face. "Seems you've caught his interest, Ignis."

Ignis stared into the white of Erra's eyes as he reached out a gloved hand slowly toward his muzzle. The horse stepped forward when it saw the advisor's hesitation and placed his muzzle against the man's hand with a joyous snort.

"Magnificent," Ignis gasped in wonderment as he petted the steed. Erra closed his eyes, enjoying every stroke of the tactician's fingers.

(Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest, popping out a hip. "What a greedy horse..." Erra heard his rider and his eyes opened. He trotted over to her and bumped his head against the side of hers, making the Horseman laugh. "Yes, yes. I know it's been a while, but I need your assistance now."

Erra bobbed his head up and down with a huff, nuzzling his snout against her cheek as a way to say he'll help. The Horseman scratched the top of his head with a smile.

After Gladio finished his explanation, Iris was in complete shock and stared at the ivory-haired girl with wide eyes. "No way..." She mumbled. "They're real? I thought the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were just a scary fairytale. Gladdy told me the tale about them a couple years ago."

"Those tales you speak of are falsified," (Y/n) stated. "Our true tale has yet to be written in the pages of any book."

"What's the real one?" Iris asked curiously.

***

Four souls were pulled from the four corners of Hell, gifted with abilities no human, god, nor daemon could comprehend. Each soul was given one of four aliases that accompanied their powers-War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death. Now dubbed the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by the Daemon King, Aeshema, they were sent to a world between the living and the dead known as the Inner Sanctum-a domain where the Four Horsemen would reside and keep order of the monsters who relish to break the seal preventing them from entering the world of the living and quenching their bloodlust.

With the seal preventing the monsters from escaping to the land of the living shattered, the Horsemen were tasked with traveling to the bustling world to hunt down the monsters that escaped and kill them before humans fell victim to their bloodlust. Once each Horseman slew their share of the monsters, they would be granted passage back to the Inner Sanctum.

Once the Four Horsemen reached the gateway and entered the portal, they arrived in the land of the living. Famine, Death, Pestilence, and War went their separate ways and disguised themselves as humans in order to walk among the living and hunt down the monsters incognito without startling the lives around them.

***

"It's shorter than I though it would be," the young Amicitia comments.

"That's because the story has yet to have a conclusion," (Y/n) grinned. "The final details are currently in the works as we speak."

"Wow," she gasped. "Does that mean all of us are a part of the story?"

Pestilence nodded. "Yes."

"That's cool and...a little scary."

"C'mon, ladies. Time to head out," Gladio called out to them.

Iris nodded with a joyous smile. "Let's get this show on the road!"

As the boys and Iris pile into the car, (Y/n) mounts Erra. She threads her fingers through his creamy mane and combs through a few knots. "All set?" She glanced down at the people in the car beside her.

"You bet," Noctis replied, looking up at her. "Think you can keep up?"

Erra scuffed his hoof against the asphalt in response, causing Pestilence to grin. "I should be the one asking you that question."

Ignis started the Regalia, the engine coming to life with a faint roar. Erra followed after the vehicle as it left the gas station and took off down the road away from Lestallum. Without needing guidance, the steed kept pace with the car, running beside it on the shoulder of the road.

From the corner of her eye, (Y/n) could distinctly catch a glimpse of the flash every time Prompto took a picture. While riding atop Erra, she could hear what the group was discussing. "Looking at the Regalia really reminds me of home," Iris said with a gentle smile.

"It sure doesn't look like any of the cars you see around here," Prompto points out.

"And it's a lot roomier, too! I can't imagine trying to cram five people, including Gladdy, into one of those things. Even just trying to squeeze Noct, (Y/n), and myself in the backseat would be difficult. Have you ever ridden in one?"

Noctis shook his head. "Can't say we have."

"There was barely enough room for our luggage! Thank goodness you guys could give me a lift."

"Think the others made it to Caem alright?" Gladio pondered.

"I suppose we'll find out when we get there," Ignis stated.

"I could check on them if you so desire," (Y/n) spoke up.

"Yeah, but how're we suppose to contact you?" Noctis asked. "Doubt you have a phone."

"The orb," she replied, grabbing Ignis' attention. "It's not just an artifact. It's a summoning device. Hold it in your palm and call my name. I'll be at your side within mere seconds." Their eyes briefly met before the advisor had to refocus his gaze on the road ahead to avoid crashing.

"It's okay, (Y/n)!" Iris shouted. "I'd rather have you along for the ride. It's nice having another girl around to talk to!"

Pestilence smirked at the young Amicitia before turning her gaze forward. She was about to respond but was interrupted by a roaring engine above. Glancing up, her eyes narrowed when she spotted an enormous ship flying overhead.

Gladio clicked his tongue with a groan. "Oh, great. Another flying fortress."

"You've encountered such a ship before?" (Y/n) asked.

"Indeed," Ignis replies. "Let's pull over."

"Noct..." Iris mumbled in worry, glancing at the young prince to her left.

"Relax," the raven-haired boy soothes her. "We've got this."

The royal retinue, Iris, and (Y/n) soon come upon Old Lestallum. Ignis pulls over and parks the Regalia in front of the motel. "Taking matters into hand?"

"Delivering justice for Jared," Noctis declares, climbing out of the vehicle alongside his companions.

"And for Talcott, too," Prompto adds.

The bodyguard eyed his little sister as she exited the backseat and walked toward the motel. "Iris, I'll need you to wait here."

She nodded in response. "Alright." She looked toward the (e/c)-eyed girl, wondering if she was going to tag along. "Are you going with them, (Y/n)?"

"We require her assistance," Ignis answered before said girl could. "Our apologies, Iris."

She shook her head. "It's fine. Just be careful out there-all of you."

The royal advisor reverted his gaze back to the prince. "Careful, Noct-only fools rush in. I suggest we review our intelligence and devise a plan."

Noctis agreed with him and placed a whistle in his mouth. Blowing into it, four chocobos came charging up the highway, answering the call. They skidded to a stop in front of the gas pumps a few feet from Erra and (Y/n). "Let's go!" The azure-eyed boy hopped onto the turquoise-feathered bird while the others mounted the remaining three chocobos.

The four chocobos, along with Erra, took off down the road and left the limits of Old Lestallum. They rode across the bridge and toward Fort Vaullerey. "Surprised to see 'em this far out," Noctis commented as they searched for a vantage point.

"Leave no plot of land unconquered," Prompto retorts.

"Those aren't conquering numbers," Gladio tells the photographer.

"Likely building a supply line it would behoove us to cut," Ignis stated.

They rode up the side of a hill around the side of the cement walls, spotting soldiers and machines patrolling the area around the fort. (Y/n) gestured to a watchtower located near one of the walls. "A perfect spot to devise a plan. With a view of the innards of the fort, constructing a plan will be a cinch."

"How're we suppose to get around the guards and the massive machines?" Prompto asked.

"If we attack, all eyes fall upon us and our plans of infiltration will be disrupted." (Y/n) hops off Erra and pats his side. "Be a dear and cause a distraction." The horse nods and takes off toward the prowling enemies.

Ignis, seeing the Horseman was without a ride, offered her a lift on his chocobo. She accepted his kindness and mounted the white-feathered creature with his help. The saddle was a little cramped, but it wouldn't be long before the two would have to dismount and head in on foot. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he tugged in the reins, urging the large bird to follow after his companions.

Feeling her arms around him caused his heart to race, threatening to burst through his ribcage and out of his chest. Never in his life has he ever been so conscious of a girl until he met (Y/n). Their conversations were full of meaning and never had Ignis felt such a deep connection with the opposite sex before meeting her. Though he has only known the Horseman for a week, he would be lying if he said their newly developed bond wasn't already on a much deeper level than he had anticipated.

Whenever Ignis thought of Pestilence, all he could imagine were their lengthy chats, her kindness, and the haunting images the nightmare that has infested his mind during his sleep plagued him with. For the past few days, the images became clearer and clearer. He could make out names and where the nightmare took place. He wanted to ask her about such gruesome imagery, but he felt it would be prying into something with much more deeper meaning than he could grasp. Every time he heard her hoarse, begging tone, he desperately would try to save her from plummeting to her death, but everything he did was all in vain.

"Ignis?" (Y/n) called out to him. He blinked a few times with a small 'hmm' before realizing they had reached a point where the chocobos refused to pass. She unwound her arms from around his waist and hopped off the bird. "Are you alright? You seem to have been deep in thought."

"Yes," he responds in a low voice, dismounting the chocobo.

Pestilence knew he was lying by the look in his eyes, but she zipped her lips and decided not to pry. "Shall we? The others have already rushed ahead."

The strategist nodded and followed the others up a stairwell, eliminating a couple of soldiers before trekking up the stairs leading to the watchtower. Noctis tugged at his bangs and glanced at the two latecomers. "What were you two doin'?"

"Chatting," (Y/n) responded.

"A.K.A. flirting," Gladio grinned playfully.

The Horseman placed a hand on her hip and stared disapprovingly at the brute. "I've no clue as to why you think we're "flirting" nonstop, but not once have we exchanged intimate words. Hold your tongue, Gladiolus."

"Ooh," Prompto snickered. "She didn't use your nickname, big guy. (Y/n)'s got a sassy side to her!"

The Horseman rolled her eyes with a frown. Noctis cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention. "So, what's our plan?"

Ignis, mentally thanking the prince for changing the subject, spoke. "Find the base commander and take him into custody. Targeting metal men will yield little in the way of reconnaissance, but bones bend easily. We'll split into two groups of two. Prompto and Gladio will generate a diversion. (Y/n) will accompany us in procuring the commander."

Prompto hooked his fingers through the belt loops of his pants and grinned. "Aw, yeah-making a scene is what I do best."

"A spark of confidence is all it takes," (Y/n) states.

Ignis adjusted his glasses, glancing between the interior of Fort Vaullerey and the raven-haired boy. "Noct, are you prepared?"

Noctis met his advisor's determined gaze with his own unwavering one. "Let's do this."