#my mother always found excuses to dip out

[tjerra14]

Sorting through some stuff and came across this one again. It’s going to be six years in July but I guess it never really stops hurting.

[berberriescorner]

How would rio and y/n react if marcus brings a girl home?

Okay, so my imagination ran wild with this one. It's a bit lengthy, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. I’m glad to finally have gotten a bit of a creative spark. Hopefully, I’m not rusty. Please excuse any grammatical errors. This isn't heavily edited and I went with the flow. It would be greatly appreciated if you all love, comment, and reblog. Please understand (I know some get tired of hearing it but it’s important) that writing fanfiction takes time and dedication. Then there is the fact that it’s free. Tapping the love button is cool, but it’s the reblogs that help writers. Try to keep that in mind 💓.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: A bit of fluff, laughter, and a little *cough, a hefty piece of* spice.

The aroma of garlic wafted through your newly renovated kitchen. It had been an early Mother's Day present from Rio and the babies. Your husband swaggered into the kitchen fresh out of the shower. He watched you stir the pasta and smiled as you made a mental note aloud to add more cream cheese. The deep timbre of your husband's voice startled you.

“Stay put mama. I'll grab some for you,” he rasped, lips brushing the side of your neck. His hand left a gentle squeeze on your hip.

“Damn it, Chris. Baby, I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. I should've known your stealthy, fine ass was nearby. The scent of your cologne and body wash should've given you away.”

He stepped back over to the stove adding cheese. You shivered as his fingers danced up your spine, curling around to the front of you. You hummed as his hand lightly cupped your throat. As if your body knew exactly what he wanted, you tilted your head, angling it so he could gain access. Rio’s lips trailed light kisses up your neck, across the jawline.

“Food smells good, darling. When we eatin’?”

You chuckled, slapping at his hand as his finger dipped into the alfredo sauce.

“Boy! Get your fingers out of my pan.”

“Damn, ma! I can't get a little taste. Come on, mama. Daddy’s hungry,” he groaned.

“That's on you. Shouldn't have skipped lunch.”

Rio kissed his teeth, swatting your bottom playfully.

“You know I was handling business, sweetheart. Don't start,” he teased.

“Let that have been me not eating. You would've jumped in my shit.”

His head shook in disagreement, “Mm no. I would've just brought you some food and insisted you eat.”

“Last time I brought you lunch it turned into an argument.”

“Cause you don't listen. You know you weren't supposed to be anywhere near that warehouse. It was a matter of safety. Where that's concerned, you'll always come first, mama.”

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes at the sweet sentiment.

“Whatever, bossy ass. We’ll eat once the oldest baby boy gets here.”

“That's right it's our weekend,” he perked up.

Though there were times Rio wished he could see his son every day. He knew that Marcus was both his and Rhea’s pride and joy. Rio was thankful that they had a healthy co-parenting relationship. Joint custody had always been smooth with Rhea. She'd never dream of ever keeping their son away from his father. He was grateful that they both managed to move on. They both found love again, remarried, and everyone seemed to get along just fine. Rio loved that you and Rhea found friendship in one another. Your kids adored Rhea just as much as Marcus did you.

“Oh, you thought I was making this fire-ass pasta for you? Nope, Zaddy this for my oldest baby boy,” you teased Rio playfully.

“That’s fine! So long as I get to choose my dessert,” he rasped, his eyes scanning over your body.

Your eyes met, both nibbling at your bottom lip. Just as you were about to dive deeper into the topic, Alexa announced someone was at the front door. You tapped your phone screen, turning on the ring doorbell’s mic.

“Rhea, stop acting like you don’t have a key. Bring your beautiful self into this house.”

You smiled as she giggled her way through the front door.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Rio called out.

“Boy! Stop all that yelling. You wake that baby up and it’s your ass.”

Your husband kissed his teeth, “last I checked this was our house,” he mumbled, walking over to Marcus and pulling him into a bear hug. “What’s up, man?”

Marcus answered his question, immediately following with, “Can I go check on the baby? Where’s everybody else?”

“Rudeness. Are you forgetting something,” Rhea questioned her eager teenager.

She chuckled as he looked at her in confusion as she continued, “Your bonus mama is burning in this kitchen. Probably for you. Did you say hello? Or maybe thank you? Where is her loving,” Rhea jokingly scolded her son.

“Sorry, ma. He replied shyly, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. “Thank you for cooking my favorite food.”

“It’s cool handsome,” you started, pinching his cheek. “The kids are in the theater room and the baby is down for the night, but go on up and steal a little sugar.”

Just as he was about to excuse himself, Rhea interrupted him, “Not so fast young man. You’re not slick. Don’t you want to share the news?”

“Mami,” Marcus whined.

“That’s okay, I'll tell them. Go on, scaredy cat.”

Marcus made his escape as Rhea turned back to you and Rio. She bypassed him, linking her arm with yours.

“Come, chica. I’ve got some chisme for you.”

Your husband, the big baby he is, groaned, “Nice to see you too, Rhea. Why am I not included?”

“Are you not in the room? You are included, fool,” Rhea teased.

“Chris, baby. I love you, but hush. I'm trying to see some.”

Both women laughed at him as he rolled his eyes and went silent.

“ Marcus sat down with us sometime last week. Said he wanted to invite his lady friend over for dinner. Our baby has a girlfriend, sis.”

The two of you stared at one another, several seconds passed. As if he was expecting it, Rio sighed, running his hand down his face as the two of you started squealing like school girls.”

“Mama, Rhea, the baby,” he reminded the both of you.

You both clapped a hand over your mouths, silently giggling.

“What's her name? Have you met her? The parents?”

“Baby, chill,” Rio chuckled.

You looked at him, studying him for a moment. Head tilted, you questioned, “You already knew. Didn't you?”

He smirked, “You already know the answer to that, mama. You know I stay ten steps ahead.”

“He told you first,” Rhea questioned.

“Listen, he asked for advice on girls a while back. I suspected then he had his eye on somebody. I played it cool. If you ask too many questions, he’ll shut down. We had the talk. About a week after that. Marcus told me he was talking to someone.”

“The talk,” you and Rhea said in unison. “Should we be worried about where this is going?”

“Ladies relax. It's better to have it early. Just to be on the safe side.”

“You gave him condoms. Didn't you,” Rhea snarked.

“Are you ready to be a grandmother? I mean I’d be the coldest abuelo out here, but let's try to prevent that from happening.”

“He brought her home for dinner the other day. She's so sweet and shy. Her name is Isabella, but she goes by Isa. He's got his papi’s taste. She's Afrolatina, a beautiful young lady!”

“Okay! I see my boy! He found him a woman who embodies two of the most important women in his life,” Rio praised with pride.

“The mom seems to be well-rounded. Surely we don't have anything to worry about,” Rhea insisted.

“The both of you were sweet and shy when I first met you. Need I say more? Then there's those stories your mom told me about your teenage years,” he smirked toward you.

“Sneak one damn boy through your window and you never live it down. Kiss my ass, Christoper,” you cackled, flipping him the bird.

Rio puckered his lips, bending down, laughing as you mugged his forehead.

“Sis! Your ass was hot back in the day, huh?”

“Chill on my wife. Tell me, how old were you when we had Marcus?”

Rhea kissed her teeth, “He got a response for everything, huh,” she asked you. “Anyway! He wants you all to meet her. Can he invite her over for dinner tomorrow?”

Rio smiled at you bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“I take it our answer is yes, mama?”

After a stressful Saturday afternoon, Rio stepped into the foyer of his home. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he welcomed the delicious smell of lemon herbs, and the smell of your perfume wafted through the air. Sandals tapped across the wooden floor, Rio’s lashes fluttered open, dancing at the sight of you meeting him at the front door.

“Hey Papa,” you started, smile faltering. You could sense the heaviness of his day. “Long day, baby,” you questioned.

His head tilted to the side, an appreciative smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rio’s hands cupped your side pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his head in your neck. Breathing you in again, his lips tickled the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Shit was hectic, but I’m sure some kisses would make me feel better,” he whispered in a sultry tone.

Your hands brushed against his chest, as you tip-toed to reach his lips. He chuckled at your struggle to reach his lips, meeting you the rest of the way. Your lips danced together in soft, slow strokes. The sound of footsteps speeding down the steps interrupted the lip lock.

“Ma! Pops! You’re not going to be doing all that in front of Isa, are you? Why’s it so quiet around here?”

You giggled as Rio reared his head back. “I’m sorry son, I didn’t know you paid bills around here. Y’all be forgetting this my house…our house,” he corrected when you lightly cleared your throat.

“Your siblings can be a lot. We wanted to have time to focus on getting to know your girlfriend. I managed to arrange a night with Nana. They’ll be back tomorrow. She can meet everybody next time we have her over. Don’t worry, baby. Papi and I promise to be on our best behavior,” you teased Marcus.

“I ain’t promising nothin’. Listen, I’ll kiss my wife all I want, bro. Don’t be mad I’m the only one getting kisses around here,” he joked, giving Marcus a playful shove.”

“Pops, chill on me. Who said I ain’t got it like that?”

Rio cackled, dapping Marcus up. The laughter between the two stopped abruptly when they saw you standing straight-faced, head tilted, and arms crossed.

“I’m pretty sure I can speak for your mother when I say this. You better be acting accordingly with that young lady. Nothing short of being respectful is acceptable. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes landed on Rio, “Then I got you over here gassing him up.”

“My bad, mama. We’ll tighten up.”

“That’s what I thought,” you finished sauntering off to the kitchen.

 Rio turned back to Marcus and they both dapped each other up silently.

“It’s like that, son?”

“I learned from the best,” Marcus responded.

“My boy. Seriously though, not too much. Take things slowly. You have a lot of life to live. Don’t let thinking you're grown get you in trouble. You bring a baby home, and that’s ya ass. Papi can’t save you from the mama squad. If you can’t wait, do at least three things for me. Wrap it up, don’t do it in mine or your mom’s house, and don’t play with her feelings. You better plan on sticking around. Don’t be that guy, son. We’ve raised you better than that.”

“Yessir, I give you my word, pops.”

Rio embraced Marcus and gave his shoulders a firm squeeze as they pulled apart.

“You nervous,” Rio asked as the doorbell sounded.

“Just promise me you won’t let Ma pull out the photo albums.”

“Listen, I’m a man of many talents, but telling that woman not to do something almost always has the opposite effect. Ma listens when it counts,” he smirked, biting his lip.

“That’s information I honestly didn’t need to know, Dad.”

The first twenty minutes had been hilarious. You, Isa, and her mother all silently laughed at the way Isa’s father stumbled over his words while making introductions with Rio.

Apparently Marcus nor his girlfriend had taken the liberty of giving the poor man a heads up. He had suspected that he was going to assert himself as an overprotective father. One look at Marcus’ father and his bravado and puffed-out chest had deflated. Christopher wasn’t about to be checked by anyone and little did they know, neither were you. 

Dinner had gone by smoothly. The two of you succeeded in not embarrassing your son, as did her parents. Isa was a sweet, shy, and intelligent girl. You both loved her for Marcus. The teens had asked permission to have a movie night in the family theatre room. All parents agreed that it would be okay so long as it wasn’t unattended. You had even offered for Isa’s parents to join. Her father needed to finish up some work at home, and Rio along with Marcus, offered to drop her home in a few hours. 

As the parents you opted, to sit in the back row of home theatre seats to give them some sort of privacy. You didn’t want to crowd them too much. That and you knew with certainty that Rio was going to get handsy as soon as the lights dimmed. Twenty minutes of screen time had barely passed before his hand started a soft, tingling trail up your thigh. You allowed his fingers to make it inches away from the place he desired before swatting at him. His heated gaze met yours and the left corner of his mouth tilted up as he mouthed the word, “Why?”

Your head cocked to the side as you looked at him as if he were crazy. You sucked your teeth, pointing a finger in the direction of the kids. Rio wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to whisper in your ear, “Oh you really thought I was cold. You know why I pulled this blanket out, mama.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. 

“Do that again and I’m sitting in my own lounger,” you sassed.

“All this space and you want to sit by yourself. Don’t be like that, mama.”

You had glanced in the direction of the children to see if they had overheard, but froze as you saw their hands inching closer to one another. Your hand tapped the top of Rio’s repetitively to get him to look. The two of you shared a smile at the innocence of the situation. Marcus looked back as the two of you tried to focus your attention elsewhere. The teen shook his head as his hand shifted away some. The two of you kissed your teeth and the sound echoed off the theatre walls as Marcus shook his head and Isa giggled.

It felt as if you had ruined the moment, and Rio attempted to correct the situation. Clearing his throat he asked the room, “Anybody want chips? Popcorn? Something to drink?”

You caught on and joined in, “I could go for some ice water and we can share a snack babe. Let’s go round up some refreshments.”

The kids had started to decline, but the two of you left in a hurry.

Rio propped himself against the kitchen island with his hands clasped. You crept towards your husband smirking. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you asked, “How much time should we give them to be unsupervised?”

“That depends, mama. Are you trying to be a responsible parent or a laid-back one? Responsible would be in the realm of maybe five or ten minutes. Laidback–about twenty or so.”

Rio’s hands traveled the length of your back, down to your plush backside. With a gentle squeeze, he continued, “I’m leaning towards laidback, mama,” he rasped. “Maybe we can take that time alone to–connect ourselves.”

“You truly have a one-track mind. We are not about to do anything with a guest in the house. Do you know what teenagers can do in twenty or so minutes?”

“Mama, what’s the most that could happen?”

“Our last child happened in twenty minutes, Rio.”

“We were pressed for time, and I was down bad for you that night, mama.”

“You’re always down bad for me. Even at this moment, you are.”

“No lies told. If you know that, stop playing. C’mere, mama.”

Rio nibbled at your neck, even as you continued to protest, “Rio, seriously. We should head back soon.”

“C’mon, mama. Let that boy cook for a few minutes. I told him to take things slow and to never do anything like that under his mom’s or our roof.”

“Oh, and you think that’s gon’ stop him?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is coming from the man, that was giving me backshots under his grandmother’s roof last Christmas.”

“We’re married with a ton of children. Trust and believe, she knows you’re getting handed pipe left and right, mama.”

“You get on my damn nerves. Always got a response–.”

The sentence came to a halt as Rio’s hand slipped into the opening of your dress, tugging a nipple through the silk material of your bra.

“F-fuck, Rio, don’t.”

His lips hovered over yours. The minty freshness of his breath fanning across your bottom lip. He nipped at it before asking, “You really want me to stop, mama?”

“Pantry, now.”

With those two words, Rio picked you up, legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to the destination. The door softly clicked closed, as he pressed you against some of the shelving. Your lips collided, tongues stroking one another, battling for dominance. The hem of your dress shifted upward, bunching at your waist. Rio groaned as his tented dark wash jeans ground against your damp panties. A moan slipped from your lips and he shushed you.

“Gotta keep quiet baby,” he whispered as his lips moved to suck at your throat.

His lips continued to nip and suck at your flesh. His long muscular fingers tugged your panties to the side as two fingers massaged your folds before gliding in to slowly stretch you out. The delicious feeling turned you into a whimpering mess as your hips began to rock against his movements.

“Yeah, just like that, mama. Are you gonna be my good girl and come all over my fingers? Yeah, you are. Aren’t you?”

He leaned in, tucking into the side of your neck, and whispered, “Bite down on my shoulder if you need to, darling.”

One of your hands slipped under his shirt as your nails scratched at his skin. You leaned back and pleaded, “Choke me, Daddy. Keep me quiet.”

The minute his hand wrapped around your throat, Rio added a third finger, thrusting in quick, deep strokes. His lips pecked your lips as he groaned, “Come for me, mama. Make a mess all over my fingers.”

All you needed was one last stroke to send you over the edge, but everything came to a halt as you both heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen. The two of you broke apart, fixing your clothes at the speed of lightning. The moment the knob to the pantry door turned, Rio snatched it open, pulling it closed with a bag of chips and a case of soda under his arm.

Marcus eyed his father suspiciously before speaking, “Isa got thirsty and you two were taking forever. So I came to get her some fruit snacks and a soda.”

Rio handed him a soda and explained, “We were coming back. Your pops negotiated a little alone time for ya. Did anything interesting happen?”

Marcus blushed a bit and responded, “Pops, can’t we talk about this later? I don’t want to keep Isa waiting.”

“You right man. Here take this soda and I’ll bring the fruit snacks and the rest of the stuff. Ma and I will be right in. She had to take care of something right quick.”

“Alright, Pops. Thanks.”

Marcus made it a few steps out of the kitchen before ducking his head back around the corner. Rio had started to turn back toward the pantry as he spoke up, “Pops? Tell Ma she can come out of the pantry now. Next time aim for a place that doesn’t house the food we eat.”

“Yeah, okay, wiseass. You’ll understand when you get older and have your own meddlesome ass kids. Take your lady her beverage and mind your business. You just couldn’t let your daddy cook in peace. Could you son?”

You were mortified and could barely look your bonus son in the eye for days.

Tagging some of my lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114

@amorestevens @bisexuallyattractivebitch @1andonlytashae

@rio-reid-whoreee @lovedlover @astoldbychae @percosim

@ravennaortiz @sunshine-flower @novaniskye @alertyoulikeitsamber @realhotgurlshit @abcdestinyyyy @jannavaire

[garlicbreadbatstarion]

BG3 Companion Headcanons

🪩🥂🌹Going to a ball🌹🥂🪩

Wyll:

We all know Wyll is definitely the best dancer

And everyone would recognize him and want to chat and don't even get me started on the ladies absolutely swooning over him

But he'd be sure to show you off and focus in on you in such a way that you never doubted that he only has eyes for you

Give him a tune and he will make it happen: he can dance ballroom, waltz, tango, salsa, swing, and more!

It would also be super important to him to learn dances from your culture to show you how invested he is in you🥺

Will always have one last dance with you after you stumble home, just the two of you as he hums in the twilight of the kitchen

Lae'zel:

Would complain about having to dress in impractical clothes the whole time getting ready

Until she sees how stunning you are and, although she still says it is impractical, she would definitely tell you your elevated look is beyond satisfactory

Would probably hop into random conversations she finds interesting and scope out the whole event

Though she'd resist dancing in front of strangers, you'd catch her tapping her foot to the music

And on the walk back you could twirl her around (very briefly) and crack her tough exterior just enough to see her smile but she would deny any such thing if you ever tried to mention it again

Astarion:

Doesn't remember much about actually learning it anymore, but ballroom comes really easily to Astarion and it brings him a lot of joy to feel something his torment could not successfully erase

He also loves that dancing with you is an easy excuse not to talk to the high society crowds that often show up at events like this, and instead you can gossip together the whole night

"my dear we should get one of those for you!" And he'd wiggle his eyebrows and gesture to an over-the-top man in a bright green tailcoat, an 18" powdered wig covered with tiny Baldurian flags and ribbons atop his head. You'd slap his shoulder playfully and try to conceal your laughter

Even when you take a break from dancing, his hand is (respectfully) around your waist to protect and guide you through the crowd

Would 100% get drunk with you and sneak off into a non-party area of the venue to make out

Karlach:

A little too excited bc she lovesss parties of any variety

Does a frantic fashion show while you get ready, panicking about what go wear

She definitely does crazy moves in each outfit to test out it's danceability

Would turn into a dad the way she makes friends literally the whole time; it takes 10 minutes just to get inside because she can't stop chatting with the doorman

She asked Astarion to teach her to dance as soon as she found out you were going to this, that way she can successfully woo you on the dancefloor!

Gale:

He was very nervous to dance because he always skipped his school dances at the academy so he could explore forbidden places while the rest of the school was preoccupied

He definitely confides in Wyll on all this, and our lovely homeboy teaches him then and there how to lead💃

Gale can't stop the bi-panic when Wyll dips him almost down to the floor, with a cheeky wink

But now that you're here he's excited to listen in on the conversations of the many researchers and society members here!

He would get engrossed in conversation and you'd go dance with some friends that were there and it's like a romcom when he turns and sees you twirl across the floor🥲

He completely abandons his colleagues and appears out of nowhere, hand on your waist, waltzing you around

Wyll does a sly lil fist pump "yes, my man!" as he sees Gale spin you from across the floor

Shadowheart:

She lovesss getting ready and helping you get ready as well

Loves the tiny hors d'eouvres and smallglasses of wine and champagne they serve at events of this scale

It unlocks a core memory of her mother reading her fairytales as a girl, and she quickly wipes a small tear before it can fall

The quadrille is her favorite, she loves that it's social and friendly without having to hold a full conversation with a stranger

Would pepper your face with kisses on the way home thanking you for such a lovely time

Halsin:

He's not super used to the formal dance styles of the city, but he's ready to learn as he goes for you!

But he also flirts with the violinist and easily convinces him to play a little jig so he can show off

Also loves the food; I firmly feel Halsin would be a really adventurous eater and he'd be excited to try the variety of new spices and flavors they have at this event

Has 0 clue but the entire venue is ✨obsessed✨ with him

[pearlofthesirens]

Everything's gonna be okay- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

first time writing for a fandom omg might as well start writing for cod more. thank you to @xxshadowbabexx for this writing competition, i'm so happy to participate <3 summary: After Simon found himself waking up after another nightmare, his significant other reminds him that he isn't alone in this world pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, nightmares, Simon's past, toxic relationship with father mentioned, slight cursing now playing: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez word count: 1193 words(one thousand one hundred and ninety three words)

"I wish you would've told me," "Told you what? That I get nightmares which eat me alive? That I've always been this fucked up?" "..that's not what I meant, Si." Hearing the familiar nickname slip off her tongue despite how he yelled at her snapped him out of the shaken state he was in. He turned to look at the doorknob, contemplating on whether to twist it open or not. It had been more than half an hour that he locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and making excuses to not come out. He didn't want to see her, not when she had witnessed him scream as he woke up from his nightly terrors and swat her hand away with such force. All she wanted was to comfort him, her gentle rubs on his face was all he needed at that moment. Then why did he refuse to open the door and face her?

"I want to help, Si. I want to be there for you like you have been for me all this time." He looked at himself in the mirror, the face he dreaded to see every day. He wore the mask for a reason and as much as Johnny pestered him for the real reasons, it had always been more than just hiding his face for safety. His dusty blonde strands and brown irises remind him of a bastard he shouldn't be thinking of. The bastard he took care of when he just had enough, the bastard who tyrannized not only him, but his dear mother and brother. His lover on the other side of the door seemed to be in love with all of him, the scars, wounds, bruises, even the face he thought he would despise all his life.

"You're more than your father's son. You're Simon, my Simon.." Simon thought of his mother often, Tommy and Beth too. Simon also thought of having a little critter like Joseph crawling around the house, someone whom he can call his. Someone he can raise with the love of his life. Someone to let him prove that he indeed did not turn out to be the person he had sworn to loathe for an eternity. Simon wished to have a family he would love and cherish. But he did not trust himself.

"Do not listen to the voices in your head, Simon. They're lying to you. You're worth it, you're worth the troubles. I'm here to help and I'm here to stay. Please..please let me in. Please let me help you, Si." Hearing her voice break was the last straw and he couldn't torture himself with solitude anymore. He opened the door very slowly, surprisingly avoiding the creaking of the hinges which much needed some greasing. He looked down to find her little face peering into him, her curious eyes always searching for something. Under her scrutinizing gaze, Simon felt the tiniest droplet of water roll down from his forehead to his lashes, down to his chin. Her hand took his, squeezing his fingers softly before she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let go of every insecurity and every doubt he had about himself, snaking his arms around her waist.

Dipping his head down and into her neck, he took the longest breath in and inhaled her all so familiar scent. Simon thought she never needed perfume, her body odor was so enticing and comforting to him that he'd rather not fill his nostrils with anything artificial. His arms tightened and he let out the softest sniffle, burying his face even further into her neck. He felt two small hands rubbing his back, running over the muscles he spent hours in the gym to build.

Before meeting her, Simon thought that crying in front of his partner was the stupidest thing possible. How would it look if a 6'4 military man was breaking down in tears in the arms of his little love? He was supposed to be a man, he was supposed to be the one providing her comfort and not the other way. But at that moment of vulnerability, his ego had been overtaken by the need to feel her close. She was the only one who would see through Ghost and not once judge him. "This..I'm so sorry, lovie..I-I can't make it stop." "I know, darling. I know. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Si." Simon never once understood how she broke through the tough walls he had built, how she took his ice cold heart and warmed it up at the cost of her patience. She had always been so gentle with him, even when he felt frustrated and yelled profanities at her, not realizing that she was not one of the people who would disregard how he felt. She taught him how to apologize with words, she always reassured him that he could be gentle despite not once finding peace in his tragic life. And yes, he was gentle with her. He did apologize with words every single time he ended up saying something he didn't mean.

He had a ritual to calm her down when she was upset, the reason being him or not. He would sit her down on his lap, wipe her tears and place tender kisses on her forehead. He did everything in his power to not see his angel cry, specially not because of him. So why was it weird to him when she did the same? Why did it not feel right when it was her turn to show how much he deserved to be held and comforted too? "I'll tell you this again and again and again. You're worth it, Si. You're worth the stupid arguments we get into sometimes, you're worth the silent treatment, you're worth all the wrong things you've once said to me. You wanna know why?" He only nodded his head, not bringing his face out of her neck. "Because I see the change in you. I see you trying, I see you improving. You've gotten so much better at expressing yourself, you apologize with words, you think twice before saying anything to me. I know there had been moments you've slipped up, but that does not mean that you don't deserve love." And suddenly, everything she said made sense to Simon. He had improved, he tried his best to be better, to be gentler, to be kinder. To her and to himself. So what if he had said something he shouldn't have? He knew how to recognize his mistakes and appropriately apologize for it, he knew how to make up for his behavior. He knew how to say sorry without bullshitting, he knew how to admit that he had done something wrong and he knew how to fix it. And she had been by his side all the time, refusing to be anything but kind, loving and understanding. How could he not love her? "I swear, lovie..I ain't leaving you till the day I die. I promise" "I love you too, Si. Wanna get back to bed?" "Yeah."

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 00:44 240227

[sukisheadlights]

MAKE ME STAY!

landonorris x famous!oc

summary: where she sends the Internet into a slow spiral after releasing a song out of the blue (except it’s not out of the blue, it’s papaya)

part 1: make me stay, series masterlist

faceclaim: dua lipa 🫶

rory’s voice mail 🎧: PART 1! hope you guys like this, it’s obviously going to be a slow burn but I’m really excited to write it for y’all <3 ALSO the first two chapters are gonna be a little slow to set up the story and a strong base for it 😚 LOVE YOU SAY IT BACK

@TMZ • 2 hours ago

Exclusive: F1 phenom Lando Norris spotted leaving Las Vegas after-party with a mysterious redhead!

Rumors are swirling that F1 racing superstar Lando Norris may have found a new love interest in Las Vegas!

The 22-year-old McLaren driver was spotted leaving the after-party of the FIA Formula 1 Las Vegas Grand Prix with a gorgeous gal on his arm.

Our source spotted Lando and the mystery woman leaving together and said the pair appeared to be "flirty", as Lando "wrapped his arm around her" and they "walked off into the night."

@THEHOLLYWOODFIX • 2 hours ago

It looks like F1 driver Lando Norris is getting back into his dating game!

After breaking up with his long-term girlfriend last year, our favorite driver was seen leaving the Formula 1 Las Vegas after party with a mysterious red-haired woman dressed in a form-fitting black leather dress.

We're not sure if this is just a one night stand, or if Lando has his sights set on someone new. Either way, we wouldn't blame him - the Formula 1 Las Vegas parties are known for being a hot spot for celebrities and models alike!

liked by paisleysterling, zendaya, and 8,75,784,894 others

lizcolton miss me?

paisleysterling no girl gtfo of my house 🙄

lizcolton stfu you love me

paisleysterling god I hate you

lizownsme UH YES?!!?! THE RED HAIRR???? ITS GIVING NEW ERA 🫣

user654 the world is NOT READY for whatever lizzy is cooking rn

user849 literally buy me

taylorswift stunning as always!! ❤️

tittieswhere BOTH MY MOTHERS ARE HERE OMFGGG TAYLOR GET HER TO OPEN FOR YOU

lewishamilton pic creds to me, btw.

lizcolton he took the pictures, or whatever 🙄

user4 EXCUSE ME WTAF ARE YOU DOING HERE

user9 @user4 it’s giving “excuse me what the actual fuck are you doing in my house—”

isoldmysoultof1 WHAT WHAT WHAAAT

isoldmysoultof1 @f1wags NEW F1 WAG POSSIBLY?!!?!!

@TMZ • 45 mins ago

Pop Sensation Liz Colton is Back!

Liz, who's long been hailed as a retro-pop phenomenon and one of the biggest social media stars, has just announced her return to the spotlight after a two-year break! Liz had been absent from public life following her rough breakup with actor Jacob Elordi.

Now, the queen of pop has set the Internet ablaze with a photo of herself sporting a sleek new red do and rocking an all-leather look, accompanied by the caption 'miss me?' Fans are abuzz!

In addition, Colton has been recently spotted interacting comfortably with Formula One superstar Lewis Hamilton in her social media comment sections! Hamilton, who is a known celebrity himself, has even asked Colton to give more picture credits, making fans hope that she's ready to expand her network and step into the world of Formula 1.

Could this mean the start of a whole new era for Liz?

liked by paiselysterling, sabrinacarpenter, and 9,34,748,830 others

lizcolton the face of a person keeping secrets 🤐

comments disabled.

@TMZ • 1 min ago

BREAKING NEWS!

It looks like Jacob Elordi, the "Euphoria" heartthrob who recently broke up with longtime girlfriend Liz Colton, was caught in a compromising position.

Just months after Liz and Jacob decided to split, details have emerged that the Australian actor cheated on his girlfriend multiple times. While neither Liz nor Jacob have commented publicly on the situation, fans have been quick to blast the actor for his apparent indiscretions.

With a successful career and multiple projects in the works, it looks like Jacob's reputation is about to take a dip.

liked by alexademie, sydneysweeney, and 8,59,499,484 others

lizcolton kisses to my exes, out 8pm tonight 💋

paisleysterling ATE

paisleysterling first picture’s for someone special?? I KNOW YOU BITCH

liked by lizcolton

lizcoltonsslave MOTHER ISNT SINGLE ANYMORE!?

lizcolton @lizcoltonsslave single as HELL baby!! Y’all haven’t lost me yet dw 😚

lizcoltonsslave @lizcolton bye I’m about to go die in a hole now

lewishamilton roscoe is ready to stream

lizcolton @lewishamilton thanks ig 🤨

wagintraining @lewishamilton LEWIS LIZ OMG LIZ ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH THE DRIVERS!?

lizcolton @wagintraining no comments

coltonhq headphones are ready!! 🎧🤍

lizcolton @coltonhq love u admin 😭💋

lizismother18 oh this is gonna EAT

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

My Moon and Stars

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

genre: mild angst with comfort

el's thoughts: this was requested by @writingmysanity for my 1.3k follower celebration

Nikolai!” Y/N called as she lifted the skirts of her dress and hurried through the tunnels of their underground hideout. “Have you seen Nikolai?” She turned to different grisha as she passed them. No one had given her the answer she desperately needed to hear. 

She was separated from him during all the chaos caused by the Darkling’s shadow monsters. Her dress now in shreds from when she stood to the side rushing everyone else ahead of her. 

Her heart was racing while her feet ached and forced her to slow to a stop. She leaned against the dirt wall trying to hold back her tears and the choked sob that crawled its way up her throat. “Nikolai.” She craved to be in the comforting hold of her husband’s arms. The arms that she had found solace in over the years of their marriage. He was always kind to her and built a relationship with her based on friendship. Over time she had fallen for the prince and truly grew to love him. 

“She um-” Y/N could hear her father clear his throat, “She should be here any minute now. My most sincere apology for making you wait.” 

“It’s no matter really.” An unrecognizable voice spoke up before silence settled into the room, the only sounds being her parent’s harsh whispers. 

Y/N quickly hid herself behind one of the stone pillars lining the large hallway. The two wooden doors slid open and the clicking of heels were heard making their way into the hallway. The princess held her breath as she waited for the footsteps to finish their walk down the hall. 

“And what do you think you’re doing out here?” 

The y/h/c haired girl spun around and muffled her scream with her hand. Once she saw the voice was her mother’s lady-in-waiting she straightened out her light blue summer dress. “Oh well, I… I was just playing-”

“You’re too old to be playing anything now, don’t you think?” The older women tsked teasingly. “You have guests kept waiting in the Great chamber.” 

Y/N grasped desperately for an excuse. “You can tell them I’ve come down with a terrible terrible cold.” 

The graying woman smiled in pity at the girl before her. The girl whom she’d watch grow into the beautiful young lady whose father is now trying to give her hand in marriage. “You know I can’t do that.”

“It was worth a shot.” The princess sighed and foled her hands together in front of her as she walked to the doors of the Great chamber. She kept her voice low. “And here we go.”

The heavy wooden doors swung open and Y/N was met with the sight of her family and the Ravkan prince with his older brother and parents. She dipped into a shallow bow keeping her head down as she made her way to the empty seat beside her mother. “Please excuse my tardiness, your highness.”

Her father nodded, “Yes, please forgive her.”

The Ravkan prince waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t fret, we are here for a few days afterall. We are in no rush.”

Y/N took the time to look over Nikolai’s features while he spoke with both of their fathers about arrangements. His blonde hair fell across his forehead gracefully, framing his face in such a way that made his facial features sharper. Not sharp enough to be threatening. No, his face still held a softness that she had only seen in children. He carried a youthful spirit with him.

The gray-haired queen that sat next to him smiled smugly at the princess when she noticed her staring at Nikolai. 

Y/N looked down at her lap bashfully. Her lady-in-waiting placed a soft hand on her shoulder and rubbed her thumb against her skin in comfort. ‘It’ll be okay.���

“Y/N!” Tamar called for the princess. “Nikolai is here.”

Y/N’s head snapped up and she wiped under her eyes as she walked quickly down the tunnel and turned the corner. The familiar mop of blonde hair came into view and she felt a new wave of tears spring to her eyes. Her feet carried her faster until she crashed into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. 

“You’re okay. Saints you’re okay.” Nikolai kissed her head repeatedly and ran his hand through her hair. “I thought…” He swallowed thickly instead of finishing his sentence. 

“I thought I lost you.” Y/N murmured quietly into his shoulder, trying to suppress her tears. She felt Nikolai shake his head. 

“You’re my moon and stars,” he kissed her head again. “My compass, my direction, my home.” He pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “It’s all you. It’s always been you. I’ll always find my way back to you. Not even death could keep me away.”

“Don’t say that.” She closed her eyes. “Don’t speak of death right now. Please.”

“Okay, okay.” He brought her back into him and placed his lips on top of her head. “But remember that it’s true. You’re my moon and stars.”

They may have been arranged from the beginning, but their love had nothing to do with their parents. Their love had grown after moonlit walks and spring picnics in the gardens. Breakfast before a busy day and ranting about the day before bed. Traveling together and telling stories of their childhood. They both knew they’d have each other through this war, and that was all they needed.

[since0202]

Taking Time—Fifty Five

The only answer was yes.

Word count: 8,660

I’ve never really believed in bad omens or bad luck. A black cat, a broken mirror, a broom falling before a storm. None of it was particularly foreboding to me. But what happens instead might be worse. Whenever things are going too well, I have this thread of underlying dread running like a hidden current beneath a calm sea. It’s that old saying: What can go wrong, will go wrong. You know that one? Maybe that’s still a manifestation of bad luck—always expecting the worst. It always makes itself known, though. At least to me.  

It was as if the world pressed fast forward over the next ten days for Maya. But she tried to soak it all in as much as possible. News spread of her and Paul’s engagement quickly and her mother demanded upon threat of disownment to throw her an engagement party at her childhood home. 

Maya had given in quickly, to her mother’s surprise, knowing that it was inevitable to avoid a celebration. That’s how Maya found herself on a balmy November afternoon, fielding question after question from elders, distant cousins, and people in her community she’d only seen in passing about her impending nuptials. 

“So, how did he do it?” Her aunt Isla asked conspiratorially, sandwiched between about twelve other people making a semicircle around Maya. 

“Oh, uh, on the cliffs,” she smiled genially, but her palms were sweating as she tried to rub them dry on the front of her bright red mini dress. The sweetheart neckline dipped just low enough to show the tasteful curve of the top of her breasts. Maya shivered slightly, her bare shoulders and legs seemingly more on display here than in a bikini on a California beach. 

“I want to see!” an overexcited teenage daughter of one of her mom’s friends squealed. Maya shoved her hand forward to display the glittering rock nestled on her finger. It really was beautiful and Maya was nearly breathless every time she saw it herself. The crowd around her ooh’ed and aah’ed, grabbing her hand unceremoniously and bending it this way and that to make it shimmer in the light. 

Maya grimaced, this was the same routine on repeat she had done for the past hour and a half as people circulated around her. Paul had been swallowed up by other crowds, no doubt being subjected to the same onslaught of questions. 

“Are you moving back then?” a question carried from a part of the crowd, but Maya wasn’t sure who it came from. 

“What? Oh, no, I still have another year left—,” she tried to respond but was quickly cut off by other overlapping questions:

“Can’t you transfer?” 

“Poor Paul, I’m sure he misses you terribly.”

“Newlyweds really shouldn’t be apart in their first year, it’s so important to be together.”

“You should really think about transferring.”

“When are you guys planning on trying for a baby?”

“Oh! A baby! So sweet.”

“You guys would make the cutest kids.”

It was…exhausting. 

Maya tried to smile as she curled an arm around her middle uncomfortably as the questions continued. She couldn’t even get a word in, they were just relentless. 

“Excuse me, folks,” Paul’s warm, deep voice ran a shiver down her spine. Suddenly, he was there, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his side and instantly banishing the chill that had settled over her. 

He handed her a glass of champagne that Maya desperately sipped and smiled at the crowd around them. “I need to steal my fiance away. Rish also wanted me to let you know that the food is being set up, so please go help yourselves.” Paul made it look so easy. They simply melted in front of him and dispersed immediately, providing more well wishes to them as they went. 

Paul leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of her head as Maya let out a deep sigh. 

“How are you holding up, baby?” he asked her softly, his comforting firm grip on her hip soothed her anxiety. Maya took another swig from her glass, nearly draining it before answering. 

“Just…tired,” she finally said. “Why did I agree to this again?” Maya glanced around the room before looking up and up at Paul. He smiled warmly down at her. 

“Because your mother would have hunted you down anyway and this at least gets us off the hook for attending the harvest bonfire,” he reminded her. Maya nodded and rested her forehead against his chest as she groaned softly. Only a couple more hours and they could go home. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat,” he rubbed her back gently and started to steer her toward the dining room where a massive spread of food had been deposited. 

But before they could reach it, the door opened to cheers and exclamations. Maya looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened as she watched Becks waddle through the front door, followed closely by Jacob, holding their son in one arm. 

“Becks!” Maya called out incredulously as she pulled out of Paul’s arms and hurried over to her heavily, painfully pregnant best friend. Becks turned and smiled, one hand on her lower back and one on her extended belly that sat low in front of her. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on bed rest.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Jacob said with an exasperated sigh. Becks rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. 

“This baby will not come out, so I needed to get out. Plus, you’re here. My good luck baby labor charm,” she leaned in and Maya tried to hug her around her giant belly. 

“Jeez, are you sure you’re okay? This…does not look comfortable,” Maya said as she looked over her best friend. 

“Oh, it's not. I’m…miserable,” and she looked it. Dark bags hung under her eyes from restless sleep and every part of her looked swollen. “I just couldn’t stay in bed another minute and the midwife said walking might help spur on labor.” 

“Walking in small doses,” Jacob reminded her as he bounced Ephi gently. It was always such a funny sight to Maya to see these giant, towering, strong men handle a baby with such gentleness and care. 

“Are you hungry?” Maya asked, already knowing the answer. Becks shook her head quickly and blew a breath out as if she was already going into labor. 

“No, we’ll just hang around for a bit, I think my parents are here anyway,” Becks motioned toward the double doors that led onto the back deck. 

“Okay, well let me know if you need anything,” Maya rubbed one of Becks’ arms and gave her a sympathetic smile. As they wandered off, Maya turned and saw Paul approaching with a plate in his hand. He handed her a fork and she started to take quick bites as they huddled together. 

“No baby yet?” Paul asked. 

“Mmm mm,” Maya mumbled around a mouthful of sweet potato. She loaded her fork with more food and held it up to Paul as he gratefully took a bite. People were whispering off to the side about how cute they were. It took everything in Maya not to roll her eyes at them. 

She didn’t mind these types of things, it was just being on display that irked her. Maya had never felt more like a trophy than at this very moment. Her mother was drinking all of the attention in and talking about wedding colors and themes that Maya hadn’t even started to consider. 

“How much longer do we have to stay again?” Maya asked, swallowing another sigh. 

“We’ll sneak out in about an hour. I think you’ve done enough parading and after dinner, people will start drinking and not even notice we’re gone,” he reassured her. That was a saving grace at least. She could last another hour. 

“Maya!” another gaggle of aunts called out across the room as they strode toward the happy couple. 

“Just smile, I’ll handle the questions,” he leaned down and kissed the side of her neck before neatly tucking Maya into his side again and taking on the approaching vultures. 

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

The never ending list of things to do before Maya was due back in New York was making her head spin. With only three days left of her break, Paul had to unexpectedly take a trip to Seattle to consult with some huge new clients from overseas. However, he was going to fly out to the New York next week and stay with her for a bit so they could detox from the wedding frenzy that had taken over La Push and nearly ruined her fall break. 

Maya checked her messages as she left the Quileute clinic after getting her IUD removed. She already had another appointment scheduled for when she got back to New York for a new one before Paul arrived. Keye had texted her about meeting up for lunch with her and Sadie. 

Maya smiled down at her phone. Things hadn’t gone over too well after Keye had talked to Colin, but things were mostly smoothed over at this point. She hadn’t told him about the abortion, but she apologized for leaving him in the lurch and not talking to him sooner about ghosting him. 

Just as she was typing a reply to confirm their plans to meet for lunch, her mother’s face popped up on an incoming call. Maya threw her head back and groaned. She hadn’t gotten a moment of reprieve since the engagement party from neverending wedding planning from her mother. 

She considered ignoring the call for a moment before begrudgingly answering. 

“Yes, mom?” 

“Oh honey! I’m so glad I caught you. I was wondering which you liked better: Azaleas or hydrangeas?” Rish was talking a mile a minute and Maya could here the honking of cars in the background.

“Why?” Maya tried to hide her annoyance, but failed spectacularly. 

“For flowers, for your bridesmaid’s bouquets!” Rish exclaimed impatiently as if they had  had this conversation a million times already. They hadn’t. 

“Mom, I don’t even know what colors I’m doing for the wedding yet, we can’t pick flowers until I decide on colors,” she crossed the parking lot to her car. 

“I thought we said we were doing shades of pinks and greens?” 

“Nope,” Maya said in a clipped tone. 

“Well, these are perfect for spring and I think that would complement those colors so nicely anyway. I’ll bring back sample bouquets and we can look at them together,” Rish carried on. 

“Mom, I’m leaving in like 48 hours, I don’t have time to look at bouquets. I’ve got like three interviews to prep for and I’m organizing the food train for Becks before I leave. Where are you, anyway?” Maya started the car. 

“Pikes Place Market. Your father and I popped over for a couple of days to do some scouting for wedding ideas. Oh! Isn’t Paul in Seattle? Maybe I can meet up with him and go over—” 

“No! Mom, please don’t bother him. He’s in really important client meeting with some international bigwigs. Do not bother him with this.” Maya’s tone was firm. 

She really needed to set some boundaries with her mom regarding the whole wedding planning thing. She hadn’t even been engaged a week and already her mother had booked four different appointments to shop for wedding dresses in New York next month. 

“Mom, I gotta go,” if she didn’t get off the phone now, she may never escape. 

“Fine, fine, but call me later!” 

“Will do!” Maya lied. She quickly ended the call and tossed her phone into the center console with a little too much force. 

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

It was early the next morning around 3 a.m. when Maya’s phone rang suddenly on the nightstand. She had made it a habit while she was home to sleep with the ringer on loud in case anyone called about Becks. 

When she answered groggily, Jacob’s voice snapped her awake. 

“She’s in labor. She’s asking for you,” Jacob said quickly. 

“I’m on my way,” Maya was already throwing off the covers and slipping into some sweatpants as she hung up. She shot a quick text to Paul to let him know when he woke up that morning and ran down to the Jeep. 

The rez was peaceful at night. As Maya coasted down the rain slicked roads toward Becks and Jacob’s she couldn’t help but relish in the cool and quiet that settled over her home. She did miss it. And she knew she always would. 

In no time, Maya had pulled and parked into the already crowded driveway at Jacob’s. As she jogged toward the front door, she could already see people milling about inside, prepping food, cleaning, and taking care of things in anticipation for the new baby. When she pushed in, everyone was keeping their voices low and Quil looked over at her, his eyes lighting up with delight: 

“She’s upstairs, Jacob said to send you up when you got here.”

Maya nodded and smiled with excitement as she took the stairs two at a time. The scene within Jacob and Becks’ bedroom was as calm as a quieted chaos could be. The lights were dimmed and gave off a warm amber glow. 

Becks was propped up in a custom canvas pool that sat in the cleared space in front of their bed. She was naked, with a small towel draped across her breasts with Jacob wedged in behind her, stroking her arms. Maya couldn’t hear what he said, but he was calmly talking in a low, honeyed voice into Becks’ ear. Her eyes were tightly closed as she breathed her way through another contraction. Maya could see the vice grip she held on Jacob’s biceps and low groans and whimpers escaped her. 

The warm water sloshed gently around her as she wiggled to try and find a comfortable seat through her contraction and the midwife and her assistants gathered around her, warming the water with fresh pours and prepping towels and tools nearby to assist with delivery. 

It was beautiful and terrifying. Maya’s eyes widened in wonder as she crossed the room quietly and sank next to the pool up by Becks’ shoulders. 

“Maya’s here,” she heard Jacob rumble softly in Becks’ ear. The contraction had passed and Becks was slumped tiredly against Jacob, sweat beading on her forehead. She turned her head across Jacob’s chest and opened her eyes blearily as a smile cracked across her face. 

“Maya,” she breathed. Maya returned that radiant smile as tears brimmed her eyes. Becks looked so beautiful and so incredibly strong. Her towel covered chest rose and fell as she took deep, calming breaths. She reached out for Maya’s hand and grasped it immediately. 

“Hey babe, how are you doing?” Maya said just as softly as Jacob had, trying to mirror the calming atmosphere everyone was working so hard to keep for her. 

“He’s…he’s coming,” Becks said. Her eyes were glassy, but filled with sheer happiness even though Maya knew she was in excruciating pain. Quileute women traditionally delivered naturally, unless there was some exceeding circumstance or planned c-section. This time, Becks had wanted to do it all exactly right as everyone of her mother, grandmothers, and great grandmothers before her. 

Jacob helped prop Becks up a little higher on his chest as he rubbed along the sides of her belly. The midwife smiled warmly at Maya and checked Becks’ progress. 

“You’re almost there, honey,” the midwife confirmed, “Time to push very soon, okay? Just keep listening to your body and let him come on his own. You’re doing great.” Maya had to hand it to her, she was very convincing. 

Maya knew that in time when she and Paul had kids, if she decided to do it the Quileute way, at home, with her husband behind her, in a water bath, she’d be absolutely terrified. But Becks just looked ready—elated even—to be bringing her second child into the world. It was something she couldn’t even fathom as being a part of her life at this moment, but she was just so happy to be there for Becks again. 

Becks’ breathing picked up again as another contraction rolled through her. She squeezed Maya’s hand and held onto Jacob as a deep sob erupted from her throat. 

“That’s it, there you go, mama,” the midwife coached, “Just like that.” She must have been getting close because Maya watched as a flurry of activity suddenly happened around her. Assistants were preparing, noting times and dates, keeping time, and prepping the towels. The midwife leaned over the side of the water bath and helped the assistants position and hold one of each of Becks’ legs firmly in their arms, anchoring her into a birthing position. 

Again, a fresh wave of terror washed over Maya as she held tightly to Becks who just seemed to know exactly what to do. Jacob was methodically counting out breaths for Becks as she arched and groaned through the last intense contraction. 

“Alright, Becks, ready?” the midwife confirmed from her place below. Becks nodded quickly, “Dad, ready?” Jacob braced Becks and nodded swiftly, his eyes never leaving the side of his wife’s face. “Next contraction, I want you to start pushing,” the midwife stated. 

Maya hadn’t realized her own breathing had picked up as her eyes darted from Becks’ face to the midwife between her thighs watching carefully for signs. The next contraction began quickly. 

“There you go! Push mama! Bear down against them,” she instructed. Becks pushed and nearly screamed as she held on tightly to Jacob and Maya both. 

“Push, baby, push!” Jacob chanted still calm but firm in her ear. Becks’ cheeks were reddening and Jacob urged her to take a breath as the contraction wound down. 

“Good! Good, deep breaths, 1, 2, 3, 4,” the midwife’s hand was nowhere Maya could see. Suddenly the calm and quiet room was just pure energy and it all centered around Becks. The assistants were counting out breaths, their rhythmic voices offering clarity and guidance through the controlled chaos, “Again!” the midwife said louder. “Push, Becks!” 

“Push, push,” Jacob began again. Maya mirrored him, chanting softly as Becks’ wailed through another contraction, her face contorting in pain, mouth wide open as stuttering groans broke free of her throat. 

“Fuck,” Maya said under her breath. This was unlike anything she had ever witnessed. Even before, when she had been there for the birth of Ephriam, Carlisle had made it seem like no time had passed at all before he was placing the newborn on Becks. But this…this was something else. It was a moment in time, meant to be experienced and meant to be something bigger and more symbolic than just the birth of a child, but rather the persistence of their tribe to simply exist in the face of seemingly unending pain. 

Maya watched as Becks pushed through contraction after contraction, slowly delivering her second son into the world. And all she saw was strength. 

On the final push, Becks let out an otherworldly scream as he slid the rest of the way out and into the waiting water below. A new burst of activity began around them. The assistant’s lowered her legs and removed the warm wet towel covering her heaving breasts. Maya’s eyes were clouded with tears, as were Jacob’s as the midwife quickly pulled their baby from the water. He let out a guttering, wet cry and Becks, exhausted and sweating, broke into a smile and laughed so bright Maya thought her heart would split in two with joy. 

The midwife quickly placed the wailing baby on Becks’ waiting chest, nestling him between her breasts. Jacob’s large hand came up to cover their baby’s back as he kissed the side of Becks’ face over and over, whispering in her ear things Maya couldn’t and didn’t need to hear. It was pure love, this picture before her. 

Becks was crying softly as she held her newborn son, her head pressed into the crook of Jacob’s neck. Maya stood slowly and took a step back from the pool, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Her best friend was overwhelmingly happy and Maya understood this was where Becks was meant to be. 

As she slowly slipped out of the bedroom to leave them to their intimate first moments with their son, she watched as Becks turned her head up toward Jacob’s, her free hand cupping his cheek as he looked down adoringly at her. He kissed her slowly and Maya shut the door behind her, the tears still falling freshly down her cheeks as she disappeared into the dark hallway. 

Maya covered her mouth and cried softly. She felt a buzzing throughout her whole body that she could only imagine was happiness. 

“My?” A soft voice floated from the top of the stairs. Maya whirled around, her hand dropping to her chest as she gasped. Paul’s darkened figure stood just a step below the landing and he watched her carefully, his eyes shifting to something darker as they laid upon her. 

“Jesus, Paul, you scared me! What are you doing here?!” Maya didn’t even try to hide her tears as she crossed the landing to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sniffling into his neck. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him before bringing his other hand up to gently wipe the tears off her face and push her loose hair back. 

“I got your message that Becks was in labor and caught a red eye,” he said in a low whisper. The sound struck a warm thrum deep in her belly and she swallowed thickly. His eyes looked over her face slowly, taking in every piece of her, memorizing her emotions. “What’s wrong?” 

Maya shook her head slowly and closed her eyes for a moment. “Nothing, really. It was just intense and she’s just so happy…It makes me happy that she’s happy,” she felt like she wasn’t making much sense but Paul nodded as a crooked smile broke across his face as if he understood. 

“I know, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her slowly. Maya sucked in a deep breath of him as their lips connected, relishing in that soft earth and spice scent. She leaned her body into his and felt that warmth spread throughout her belly. Paul’s hands gripped her hips tightly and she felt a rush of euphoria sweep through. She was so very warm that Paul’s hands felt almost cold. When they broke their kiss after a few moments, Maya was nearly panting. She stepped back to get a grip and wipe her eyes again. Paul kept his grip on her waist and when she finally let her eyes adjust and settle on him, he looked intense. 

The sharp, strong curve of his jaw was softened by his trimmed beard, and Maya reached up absently to stroke her hand across it. Lightning prickled on her fingertips as she did and she watched Paul wet his lips in response. 

“We should go home,” his voice was a deep rumble in her chest. When her eyes darted away from his mouth to connect with his, she saw fire. She tried to stifle a small gasp, but it slipped from her throat. Paul’s grip tightened further and pulled her closer as if on instinct. 

Maya shook her head to try and clear it. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she closed her eyes for a moment before she stuttered out, “N-no, I need to start breakfast and m-make sure everyone is on assignment.” 

When she opened her eyes to carefully look at him again, she knew she was done for. “Kim’s got it under control. Let’s go home,” the command was subtle and he tugged her near him as they descended the stairs together. Maya made quick and quiet goodbyes, waving to the sleepy group of people milling about doing chores and small tasks in the early hours as dawn broke. Paul guided her out into the cool air, never letting them stop as they walked swiftly toward her Jeep. 

The cool air felt like a wash of sleet melting on her skin. Maya let Paul deposit her into the passenger side of the Jeep and only when he snapped the door shut behind her did she notice that she was breathing too quickly as if she had just run a marathon. She focused on breathing through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to quietly calm herself as Paul steered them expertly through the dark toward home. But her heartbeat barely slowed. When she stole a glance toward Paul, she saw the muscle in his jaw tick and the whites of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel. But he didn’t seem mad…just anxious to get home.

Finally, once they pulled into the driveway, Maya started to feel a little more settled. The warmth of the house inside was a blur as Paul pulled Maya upstairs toward the bathroom and quickly turned on the shower. Everything felt hazy, as if the adrenaline was coating her brain in a strange fog. 

“P-Paul?” she barely whispered as she turned to face him. He was gently pulling off her shirt and sweats. Maya could feel his hands shaking as he undressed her. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m trying very hard to be gentle, but I just feel like ripping your clothes off,” he said through  gritted teeth. Maya shook her head sleepily, standing in just panties as she said, 

“Just rip them, who cares.” Paul didn’t hesitate upon her permission to rip the cotton easily from her body. She sighed in exaltation and stood naked before him as he quickly shed his clothes and backed her into the shower. 

The water felt barely warm against her hot skin, but she stayed put beneath it as Paul brought his mouth down to hers, stroking her body lovingly beneath the water. Everything was quiet, except for their panting breaths as he quickly scrubbed her down with soap and reverently rinsed her. She felt the thick heated length of him resting against her stomach and swallowed as her mouth watered. 

Just as quickly as he had placed them in the shower, she felt him guiding her out, toweling her down softly and moving her to the bed, his hands roaming around her body, touching every part of her, his lips moving across her shoulders and neck. 

Maya collapsed on the bed, writhing gently against the sheets. Every stretch of her body felt delicious and the soft sheets felt like a warm caress against her skin. Paul’s hands settled on her thighs and the heat of his touch felt normal. For once, they felt like they were the same temperature. 

His lips started to kiss the inside of her thigh, quickly gliding up to her center before he took a deep breath of her and dove in. The groan that emanated from him made her shudder. Maya’s cheeks reddened. She was already soaked, but every swipe of his tongue between her legs was like a bolt of lightning up her spine. 

Maya could vaguely hear herself beg—his name, pleadings, promises, needs. But she was still lost in that heady haze. She felt him rise up above her and then the taste of her bloomed on her lips as he kissed her. There was urgency in his touch, but when she gripped his biceps, he slowed as if remembering himself. 

Nothing had ever felt like this. Maya felt as Paul gently pressed against her opening, but he waited, pulling back from their kiss to look down at her. 

“Ready?” his voice came out husky and deep. Maya exhaled, her eyes hooded as she breathed a quick: “Yes, yes please.” 

He slid all the way home and Maya’s back arched off the bed as she let out a startled yelp. He felt…much, much bigger. Was he always this big? The stretch was overwhelming and even with how wet she was, she felt every inch of him within her. Paul let out a low moan into her ear and paused, trying to catch his breath. 

“Paul, ah, fuck!” Maya gasped between small whines. Each time she moved, seemingly involuntarily against him, she felt a snap of pain and then aching relief within her. 

“My, fuck, I know baby, just—you feel so,” he let out a laugh against her throat. He was shaking all over. Maya whined and rotated her hips ever so slightly and felt him cinch tighter inside her. 

“How are you—,” another gasp of air, “This big? It feels—” 

“Amazing,” he leaned up to look down at her, trying a tentative push against her, “You feel amazing, baby.” 

She had to admit, besides the slightly uncomfortable stretch at her opening where he seemed to bulge larger than before, he did feel incredible inside of her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her nipples tight peaks that rose and fell, grazing against his chest with every breath. 

“Let me just..” he groaned again as he shifted inside of her and Maya swallowed hard. He brought one of her knees up and stretched her open more. Her back automatically bowed off of the bed and Paul’s eyes coasted down the length of her in awe. 

His hands gripped around her ribcage as he leaned back and started to press slowly in and out of her. Maya was lost, her head was swimming, and she felt like she was on fire. Every stroke felt like she would split in two but each time he withdrew it was like a new ache bloomed in her, waiting to be filled. 

She watched him above her, his eyes transfixed on her naked body, heated and hungry, and something within her just snapped. Her whole body shook and his mouth fell open as he watched her come undone quickly. There was nothing like this. She didn’t know how it felt this way, but she never wanted it to end. 

As soon as her orgasm rinsed through her, Paul still pushing slowly into her, she gasped, her eyes widening as realization rocketed through her. “Fuck! Stop, stop!” 

“Wh-what?! What’s wrong?” He was over her in a second, his hand coming to cup her cheeks as she pushed against his chest roughly, “My, what is it?” 

“Condom! We need a fucking condom, fuck!” He was still inside of her and Maya couldn’t help but arch her hips into him with a whimper. 

“Why? My, we talked about this, it’s just superstition,” he pleaded in between heavy pants. She could tell it was killing him not to move. His eyes were wild as he clenched his jaw. 

“No, I don’t have any…Fuck! I got my IUD taken out,” she was frantic now. Paul stilled, his eyes wide. 

“What?” his voice was low, that same gravelly, heated tone coating his words. “You’re not—” 

“I didn’t know you were going to be back and I had an appointment to get a new one put in in New York before you were supposed to meet me out there,” she was still pushing slightly against his chest, but his eyes had a far away look to them, his mouth hung open, and he was still inside her. “PAUL!” 

“Fuck! Okay, hold on,” he looked down between them and gently tried to pull out of her. He was wedged so tightly inside of her, Maya threw her head back and screamed at the sensation. It was neither painful, nor pleasurable, but just left a harsh aching behind that had her pulse ratcheting up. When he finally pulled all the way out, Maya sucked in a breath and looked between them. 

“Did you come?” she was shaking from the adrenaline, from the ache, she didn’t know. He shook his head still looking down at her before replying. 

“No, not yet.” 

“Okay, okay. Good,” Maya breathed, falling back onto the pillows. She was thoroughly wound up now and tried to wipe the sweat off of her forehead. “Just, grab a condom and we can keep going,” she nearly begged. He moved soundlessly to the nightstand, methodical and quick. 

By the time Maya had leaned up on her elbows to look at him, she saw both her body and his were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He rolled the condom tightly onto his shaft, wincing as he did. 

“Ready?” she said in a whisper. He looked up at her, but his face was unreadable. He was still panting, but he nodded. 

“Turn over,” he didn’t give her a moment to comprehend his request before grabbing one of her knees and flipping her onto her belly, “Ass up,” he directed, pulling her hips up. Maya’s heart thumped wildly as she felt him rub his now covered tip against her opening and slid back in. It was just as tight as the first time but Maya rocked through the discomfort. Paul was a man possessed behind her, pulling her hips tightly back onto his as he thrust into her. 

She was quickly coming apart again beneath him and this time, she closed her eyes, biting down against the pillow as he hammered home inside of her. Stars popped behind her eyelids and she heard a deafening moan around her. She wasn’t sure if it was her or Paul. Maybe it was both of them, but whatever it was, she could feel him tightening again inside of her. As her body contracted and flooded with warmth, his thrusts began to stutter and suddenly he was unable to move at all inside of her. 

He leaned over her back, panting and dripping sweat, “Don’t..Don’t move,” he pleaded. She could feel him twitch inside of her. The feeling of it was euphoric. Every breath she pulled in tightened her belly and made her acutely aware of every inch of him, making her shudder and ripple with pleasure. 

Maya thought she might actually pass out with how much she was feeling all at once. She was both too hot and pleasantly burning. A matchstick, set alight. Maya moved ever so slightly, curving her hips away from him and froze when he let out a pained moan. She looked over her shoulder at him and he placed his hand on her lower back. 

“Stay still, baby. Just for a minute…let me just…” he was absently kissing and nibbling on her shoulder to placate her. 

“Are you okay?” Maya said, breathlessly. Paul let out a soft huff of air that almost sounded like a laugh. 

“Yeah, honey, I just… need to calm down a bit,” his other hand found her hip and he squeezed tightly. “You were so good for me, My.” He chuckled a bit as if just as taken aback as she was by their shared euphoria. 

Maya glowed at the praise but couldn’t help from wiggling at the sensation of him between her thighs. After a few moments, Paul eased out of her slowly as Maya collapsed completely on the bed. She turned over to stare up at him as he sat back on his knees, head lifted to the ceiling, as sweat poured off of him. She’d never seen him so…undone. 

Her eyes sparkled with delight and she couldn’t help but smile mischievously up at him. He took a few more breaths before lowering his head to gaze down at her and laughed again. 

“What?” he smiled that warm, signature smile of his and it made butterflies burst in her belly. 

“Nothing, you’re just…sort of beautiful, is all,” she replied softly. He nodded as if he hadn’t expected her to say anything else and got up with a groan, padding over to the bathroom. 

Maya propped herself up on the covers and waited until he came back with a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned between her legs and wiped himself off before collapsing on the bed next to her. Maya snuggled into the crook of his arm and in no time, they had both drifted off to sleep, their equal warmth radiating off one another. 

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

“I don’t think I’m going to make it this weekend either. The shipment just came in and it’s looking rough,” Maya could hear the crackle of disappointment in Paul’s voice as she hurried across campus. The biting cold made her nose run and hard pellets of snow pelted her forehead. Maya heard a distinct crashing sound on the line and couldn’t help but wince as an onslaught of expletives spilled from Paul’s mouth. 

“It’s okay. I’m just getting over this stupid cold anyway and I really need to meet with my thesis advisor this week to start getting plugged into my lab options,” Maya blew out a huff of air, walking through the quickly dispersing fog of it. She fished a tissue out of her pocket that Rosalie had kept stashed there for her and wiped her constant running nose. 

At least she was starting to feel better. Her labs had a wicked cold run through all the students and Maya was seemingly the last to recover. Everyone had been coughing and hacking for what felt like weeks. She felt like she was through the worst of it though and with her newfound surge of energy, she really wanted to dig into prep for her thesis. The spring semester always flew by and before she knew it, she would be in her final year as an undergrad at Columbia. The thought made her head spin. 

“My, it’s New Years. Shouldn’t you be enjoying yourself?” Paul reasserted. Maya pulled open the heavy door to the main library and relished at the warmth washing over her. 

She’d barely taken a break even over Christmas. Paul had planned to come see her for her Christmas break, but Jacob had held him back, citing some weird disappearance up North that he had to check in with the Cullens about in Alaska. So, Paul had stayed behind for the pack. 

Despite Paul’s effusive apologizing, it hadn’t bothered Maya at all. She and Rosalie and Emmett had spent a great weekend together. Truth be told, it was the most sleep Maya had gotten since she’d flown back after fall break. But still Paul had felt guilty for not coming sooner like he’d promised, despite Maya’s placating. 

“I enjoyed myself last week,” Maya breathed a sigh of relief as she unwound her scarf. Her lab was quiet during the weekends. “It’s fine, babe. Just come whenever the work stuff blows over, I’ll be here.” Maya reassured him. He sounded stressed and she just wanted to see him, but piling on him more wasn’t what he needed right now. “Did Jake make it back okay?”

“Yeah,” there was a long pause as Paul blew out breath and Maya unpacked her bag slowly. 

“And?” she prompted. 

“And,” Paul sounded distracted, “And I might have to go with him next time.” 

“Next time?” That piqued Maya’s curiosity. 

“Yeah, there’s apparently more going on up there than we thought. I’m not really sure on all the details but—Fuck! My, baby, I gotta go,” a flurry of voices sounded in the background, along with some very angry beeping. 

“Okay! Good luck,” she called out. 

“You too,” he managed before the line disconnected. Maya let out a sigh and stared down at her lab notebook. She wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t going to make it out here for new years, but she had hoped they’d see each other sooner rather than later. 

At least there was still the work ahead of her. 

Maya sat on the lab stool, blew her nose for the millionth time, and dug into her work. 

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

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Rosalie asked from behind Maya as she fluffed her perfectly curled blonde hair. Maya sighed and shook her head, adjusting her corset top with  Renaissance themed artwork painted across it. She had found it in the Village earlier that week on a rare shopping outing that Rosalie had insisted on. 

“I’m sure. I’m meeting everyone at Giordi’s in like half an hour,” Maya insisted. Her nose was only slightly red from the last little bit of her cold, but honestly it weirdly brightened her face. 

“Okay, well call me or Emmett if you’re over it and want a rescue,” Rosalie insisted. Maya nodded as she dusted her makeup brush across her bronzer and blended along the contours of her face. 

“I will, now go have fun!” Rosalie burst with a smile at that, so incredibly lovely and eerily glowing. Maya was never put off by their strange beauty, but more so fascinated by it. Like a scientist wanting to observe and study a new culture. Rosalie floated out of the room gracefully, her golden shift dress sparkling as she went. 

 Maya took a last sip of water, donned her heavy Gucci black puffer coat and zipped up the sides of her leather heeled boots. She promised herself she’d stay for at least a few hours, just until midnight, and then she could come home and crawl into bed. While her cold had dissipated, the stress of her thesis and subtly avoiding Arden had tanked her energy. 

She was exhausted, and the stress of it all wasn’t lending herself to sleeping well. She tossed and turned most nights and when she woke up, Maya would often text or even call Paul. It was like an impulse and just hearing his voice or seeing him type out a reply was like a salve to her anxiety. 

The walk to Giordi’s was only about six blocks, but Maya caught a cab anyway, using the excuse of her heeled leather boots to sink warmly into the backseat and nearly float away from the already persistent tiredness. 

The ride was short and as Maya spilled out of the cab, she watched as eager partygoers poured into the restaurant. There was a hidden club downstairs that flaunted an impressive amount of a space for how unassuming the little restaurant was. Maya made her way in with the crowd, scanning for her friends and cohort. 

It didn’t take long once she got downstairs to find them huddled around one side of the elongated bar. She bounced over and smiled, ready to put as much energy forward as she could muster and determined to have a good time. 

They all cheered in unison when they saw her and Jamie, her energetic lab partner pulled her into a side hug before handing her a shot of something. Maya took a whiff and nearly gagged. 

“This smells like lighter fluid, what is it?” she grimaced. Jamie and a few of the others laughed before knocking back their own shots. 

“It’s just vodka,” Jamie reassured her as she threw back her own shot, sans chaser. Maya felt like gagging but choked back the shot, feeling her stomach roil painfully. Not a good idea. 

“UGH!” she groaned, shaking her head. 

“Come on!” Toby, a boy in her cohort beckoned, “You gotta catch up, we’ve been here for at least an hour.” Maya shook her head aggressively and leaned on the bar to order a water. 

“No chance,” she called over her shoulder to them. They already looked pretty drunk, or on their way to being so, but Maya didn’t have any interest in getting hammered tonight. She was hoping to get up a little early tomorrow to get her outline finished and over to her thesis advisor. 

Have fun. Relax. That little voice inside of her head begged at her. Funny how it almost sounded like Pauls’ voice. She would have fun, just maybe not the drunken, disorderly fun they were all expecting on new years eve. 

Maya stayed close to her friends, sipping a diet coke she had lied and told them was spiked. They were all having a great time, and even she had to admit, she was having fun, even if she wasn’t dancing wildly in the pounding club like her friends. Instead, she stayed tucked into the bar, swaying her hips to the music and watching out as people cheered and bobbed to the crescendoing music. 

Maya glanced up at the giant digital clock suspended over the dance floor to denote the countdown to midnight. Only an hour left and she could sneak away. Her bed sounded amazing right now. As she turned to order a refill, she felt a warm presence sidle up behind her and before she could turn, a warm voice said in her ear: “Hey you.” 

Maya whipped around and looked up to see: “Noah!” she cried out. He laughed, his sweet, familiar face beaming down at her. She crashed into him in a tight hug that he joyfully returned. 

“What’s up, My-pie?!” he crooned. 

“When did you get back?!” He had been gone for the entire semester, studying at a sister college in the UK for his thesis and working closely with a think tank to develop some really exciting research about clean energy. 

“About an hour ago,” he looked down at his watch and laughed, “What are you drinking?” he nodded to the diet coke that the bartender slid back toward Maya. 

“Oh, uh, rum and coke?” she offered the lie easily and he nodded. The bartender asked what he wanted and he ordered a whiskey, neat. Maya arched an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I’m not really looking to get hammered either,” he said genially as he leaned against the bar. Maya sagged with relief and smiled. “Jet lag,” he offered as an excuse. Maya nodded seriously and then broke out into a smile. Noah was here. 

They had barely seen each other since the summer and she really had missed him. They fell into easy conversation as well as they could around the pulsating music for a bit. Her crowd of friends barrelled back over once they saw Noah and demanded another round of shots. Maya insisted she had to use the bathroom and snuck off in search of it. 

“Hurry back!” Noah pleaded as he nodded toward the impending clock. Only fifteen minutes until midnight. The bar was being overrun with people trying to order a fresh drink before the new year. 

Maya weaved through the crowd and thankfully found the nearly empty bathroom. She quickly peed and took some deep breaths to try and quell her stomach that still hadn’t stopped panging angrily since that initial shot. In the stall next to her, someone heaved and threw up into the toilet. Maya tried to breathe through her mouth so as to avoid the smell of vomit sneaking under the stall, but it was no use. It hit her like a bus and before she knew it, she was arched over the toilet, spilling the contents of her stomach into the dirty toilet below. 

What the fuck was she doing here? Maya wiped the beading sweat away from her forehead and tried to gulp down some air before she threw up once more. With shaking hands she lifted herself up and staggered out to the sink. Now that the rogue shot was cleared from her stomach, she felt better, but was still shaking slightly with adrenaline. Her phone buzzed in her bag and Maya ignored it. 

Instead, she thoroughly rinsed her mouth out and popped a breath mint before braving the crowded club again. She was just going to tell Noah she was going to catch a cab home. It wasn’t worth it and she desperately wanted to be in her bed at this moment. 

If she was being honest with herself though, she desperately wished Paul was here. It wasn’t like the aching absence that the imprint had thrust upon her before—no that hadn’t happened since before fall break. Instead, it was just a present longing that threatened to make Maya tear up. The door to the bathroom swung open and a girl stumbled in, bracing herself on the sink next to Maya. 

Maya took another moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead and dampen the back of her neck with some cold water before she turned to leave, but the girl stopped her. 

“Hey! Oh, fuck,” the girl winced slightly and looked at Maya, her eyes not quite focusing on her. “Do you have a tampon?” 

“Oh!” Maya exclaimed as she started to dig in her purse, “Yeah, one sec,” as she rummaged in her purse, a pit fell to the bottom of her stomach. She grabbed the tampon from her full supply in her bag and handed it to the girl who slurred her thanks and trudged off toward an open stall. 

Maya stared vacantly at the door to the bathroom, trying to slow her breathing. The muffled sounds of the club beat just beyond the door and she wanted to go home. Now. 

As she made her way across the crowded dance floor to cheers and cries as the final few minutes to midnight began, she spotted Noah among a clump of her friends just off to the side of the dance floor. He caught her eye and waved frantically at her. Maya tried to keep her shoulders back and her mind clear so as not to give away any unnecessary worry on her face. 

“My! You almost missed it!” Noah cried out as he pointed to the clock overhead. The final minute until midnight began and people began cheering as the DJ lowered the music so people could countdown at the ten second mark. 

“Sorry, I just…I think I’m actually going to head home,” Maya yelled over the loud crowd chattering and hollering around her. 

“What?!” Noah shouted back as he leaned down to hear her better. 

“I think I’m gonna head home!” she repeated in his ear. Noah leaned up and looked at her face, opening his mouth as if to protest and then he looked behind her, his face cracking into a friendly smile. 

“TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX!” Maya’s eyes widened as she looked at Noah in confusion and then she heard a warm, deep voice in her ear. 

“There you are.” 

Maya whirled around and her heart nearly stuttered to a full stop as her mouth hung open in genuine surprise. 

“FOUR, THREE, TWO,” the crowd continued. 

“Paul!” Maya gasped as she automatically fell into his arms. 

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd shouted in unison. 

Paul leaned down slowly, his arms wrapped warmly around her as his hands snaked her waists. He kissed her gently and Maya stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms up around his neck as she pressed more firmly into the kiss. All around them, people were kissing and cheering as sparkling confetti fluttered down from the ceiling and was caught glimmering in the lights of the club. When they finally pulled apart, Paul’s eyes were hooded with deep adoration. Maya couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes now as the longing she felt just moments ago rapidly dissolved, replacing it with an overwhelming joy. 

“Happy new year, Maya,” he said warmly. 

“Happy new year,” she smiled, “You’re here.” 

“I am,” he said, swaying her gently from side to side as Auld Lang Syne played softly from the speakers and people sang along. “I figured, since I’d already missed a couple of our dates, I wasn’t going to be late to this one.” 

Late. Late. Late. Late. 

Maya’s heartbeat sped up and she smiled shakily. “I’m just glad you’re here now,” she shook her head and pressed her body more firmly against his. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he leaned down to kiss her forehead, turning her gently to the music, “I love you.” 

Maya closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest, “I love you too.” 

Next > >

[november-rayne]

Chapter Three: The Message

A/N: Being a God has its perks; strength, accelerated healing, stamina...

Word Count: 2200

Rating: Mature

Tags: Loki being a spoiled prince, implied smut, nothing too graphic

Chapter Index

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+ *Minors DNI*

Loki was famished by the time he had finished with the maid from the library. He had made her come three more times before he left her. He took her from behind in front of the fireplace. He had her on her back on the chaise. And the first time he took her, he lowered her onto himself, and she rode him hard while they were still on the sofa.

He forgot to ask for her name, but he made another mental note: ‘Housemaid, short, blonde: good kisser, eager to please, deft hands, comes easily.’

He walked swiftly through the palace with a broad smile, wholly sated but starving. He walked straight for his chambers, taking long strides. His library adventure had occupied most of the early evening, and he missed dinner in the main hall. Not that he cared much; while his parents were away on business, all the courtiers had been demanding too much of his attention, boring him with their tales of inferred affronts or trying to engage him in other political discussions.

“Brother!”  Distracted by his daydreams, he almost ran into his brother, Thor, as he reached the top of the staircase. “I was looking for you at dinner.”

“I missed it,” he said, not slowing his pace.

“I do not dare guess why,” Thor observed the flush in his usually pale cheeks, the messy state of his usually kempt hair, and the disheveled look of his clothes. Not to mention the enormous smile pasted on his face. “Either you just won a fight, or you were dipping your wick somewhere.”

“You are too clever, Brother. I can keep no secret from you. I am just back from the training grounds.”

“Obviously.”  Thor rolled his eyes at his brother’s weak attempt at deception. Loki’s promiscuous reputation was hardly a secret. Ever since he was a teenager, he had basked in the fleshly attention he received after growing into his looks. It was even rumored that he lost his virginity while in the company of two maidens from his history class.

He frequently seduced servants, nobles, and even commoners living in the capital city surrounding the palace. It was a power he loved wielding. He always made sure it was a win-win situation. He relished giving pleasure as much as he loved receiving it. He always used the proper spells to shield himself from getting a child on someone or catching an infection.

When Loki did court, it lasted only a short time. He found keeping company with the same person became tedious after a while. He usually broke things off before the other person got any ideas that it could be a long-term endeavor.

Thor, on the other hand, preferred to court his partners and only took them to bed once promises of commitment were exchanged.

“If you will excuse me now, Brother, I have worked up quite the appetite today and am desperate for a bath.” 

“Of course. But if you could spare some time before breakfast, I would like to get your thoughts on the message from Mother.”  Loki reached into his pocket, double-checking that he remembered the envelope.

“Yes. Yes. Nothing would make me happier.” 

Thor’s eyebrows shot up, “You haven’t read it yet, have you?” 

“Of course not. I told you I have had a hectic day—lots of meetings…and physical… combat training. I am ravenous. I will look it over once I have eaten, I promise.”

“It’s important.”  Thor gave him a serious look.

“Of course. You have my word.”

“I will meet with you here before breakfast then. Rest well, Brother.”  Thor left Loki at the double doors to his apartment.

Loki called for his chambermaid as soon as he entered his sitting room.

“Your Highness,” the maid called Sera responded with a deep curtesy.

“Draw my bath and lay out my robe. Send for my dinner, something hearty, and have it set up by the fire when I get out of the tub.”

“Right away, My Prince.”  She hurried off to the bathroom that lay just beyond Loki’s bedroom.

He removed the message from his mother, still sealed with wax in its parchment envelope. He thought about opening it now but recalling his brother’s face when he asked about it; he decided to wait until he was fed and comfortable. He left it on his desk and sunk into his chair. The activities of the day played on repeat in his mind.

“Your bath is ready, Your Highness.”

Loki headed to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

“Make sure those are cleaned and pressed,” he ordered unnecessarily as the chambermaid followed behind him, gathering the laundry as she went.

“Yes, My Prince.”

Loki sunk into the deep bathtub, submerging himself to wet his hair. Sera pulled a basket and a stool out of a nearby cabinet and settled down next to the tub. She selected the shampoo from the basket and began washing his hair. She used her nails to massage his scalp just the way he liked.

“Divine,” he whispered.

“Head back, please.” 

He obliged as she rinsed his hair with a large pitcher filled with warm water and lavender essence. She gently wrung out the water from his shoulder-length tresses when all the suds were gone. Next, she took her time massaging the lavender conditioning oils into his scalp with the pads of her fingers.

She loved hearing the little sounds of pleasure the prince made while she was caring for him. It made her so proud of the job she did. She would do, and has done, anything the prince desired. She combed all the knots from his hair, loving how it felt like black silk under her fingers.

“May I join you in the bath tonight, Your Highness? I could scrub your back like last time.” She kept her voice low and quiet behind him.

“As wonderful as that sounds, I am afraid I will have to pass tonight.”  As if on cue, Loki’s stomach growled loudly. “I will finish washing. You go and check on my dinner.”

“Yes, My Prince.” She sounded disappointed as she placed a stack of clean towels on the stool she just vacated. “You must be starving. I will make haste.”

Loki finished his bath; exiting the tub, he wrapped a towel around his waist. He took another towel and started patting his top half dry.

Looking in the mirror, he admired his “battle scars.” Light blue and purple mouth-sized bruises at the base of his neck, chest, and abdomen, and fingernail scratches on his back and buttocks. He gave himself a broad smile in the mirror.

‘Not bad for a day’s work,’ he thought to himself. Fortunately, as a God imbued with the magic of the Æsir, he had accelerated healing; soon there would be no trace of his lusty activities.

In his bedroom, he found his favorite robe lying across his bed. He put it on over his naked body, tying the sash loosely around his waist.

His dinner awaited him as he entered the front room of his chambers. He settled in at the little table beside the fireplace and ate his fill, enjoying every morsel. Clean and with a full belly, Loki was enjoying the warmth of the fire, almost ready to fall asleep in his chair as Sera came over to clean up.

Loki perked up slightly as he took in the view of the curve of her bum as she leaned over the table to clear it. “Thank you for your service, sweetling. You are the finest chambermaid I have ever had.”  She followed his eyes as he ran his gaze traveled over her body.

She blushed as she stacked the dishes on the tray. “It is my pleasure to serve you, Your Highness.”  She carried the tray to the table by the chamber’s main entrance and quickly returned to the prince’s side. She stared at his bare chest peeking out from his loose robe, heat rising in her body. “May I…will you be requiring-” Loki’s mouth cut her off. He kissed her deeply, wrapped one hand around her waist, and raised the other to massage her breast as he stood up from his chair.

“You have already served me so well tonight. Take the rest of the night off. I have work to do.”  She looked stricken as he stepped away from her toward his desk. “And tomorrow morning as well. I think I still remember how to dress myself.”  He picked up the message from his mother and eyed it warily.

“If you please, it would be my pleasure, My Prince.” She moved to his side again.

“Oh, of that, I am sure,” Loki said, chuckling, laying the envelope back on the desk. “I cannot have you getting too attached to me, sweetling. I will ruin you for all other men.”

Feeling emboldened, she untied the sash holding Loki’s robe closed. Her eyes drank in his beautiful, naked body. Her heart raced, and her skin felt like fire. She ran her hands down his chest, looking up at his ocean-blue eyes.

“Please?” she asked meekly.

“Mmmm….” He kissed her gently. “So bold.” He took her face into both of his hands. “I do have work to do.” He kissed her again. “But you do taste so sweet.” 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body to his. “I have an early meeting with my brother, pet.” He gave her a deep kiss, pulling her hair ribbon, letting her hair fall from the knot on the top of her head like a chestnut waterfall down to her waist.

“He will be very cross with me if I am ill-prepared,” he kissed her again. He was untying her apron behind her back. “You should go sleep in your quarters tonight. I need my rest.”  She pouted, her bottom lip jutting out, and looked up at Loki with mock sad eyes. He laughed and kissed her bottom lip before nipping it with his teeth.

“Let me warm your bed tonight, My Prince, and in the morning, I will wake you for your early meeting.” She raised her tiptoes so that her mouth was close to Loki’s ear, “I will wake you with my mouth. If it would please my Prince.” She ran her hand over his hip and cradled his length in her palm.

With that, the last bit of Loki’s resolve faltered. The message from his mother was all but forgotten as he lifted Sera from the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her to his bedroom and threw her down on the bed.

Despite already having had copious amounts of sex that day, Loki obliged the chambermaid for hours more until she was happy and sated. She was amorous and eager, and he was delighted to please her. He was exhausted by the time she finally drifted off to sleep.

It was well after midnight when he slipped from the bed, pulling on his robe; he tried to make as little noise as possible as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

As much as he wanted to stay tangled up with the naked sleeping woman in his warm bed, he finally needed to read that message from his mother. He promised Thor, and Loki always kept his promises to his brother.

He carried the envelope to one of the large leather armchairs near the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, the fire roared back to life. Sinking in and getting comfortable, Loki took a deep breath and broke the wax seal. His eyes glided quickly over the paper covered in his mother’s elegant handwriting.

As he read, several emotions crossed his beautiful face: amusement, concern, horror, and finally, disbelief. He shook his head.

‘How? How could they do this to me? Mother knows my feelings. How could she think this is a good idea?’  As exhausted as he was a few minutes earlier, he made no move to return to his bed and the young beauty it held. Instead, he sat and stared into the fire, silently reeling from the news he had just received.

            ‘My dearest boys, your father and I continue our diplomatic tour of Asgard, hearing from the people and meeting with the Lords and Ladies of the realm.

We recently spent several weeks in the North. It is sparsely populated but extraordinarily rich in resources. Your father and I toured an emerald mine, visited the home of a local cattle farmer, and spent quite a bit of time with the Warden of the North, Lord Anderson and his family.

Which brings me to the main purpose of this letter. Your father was quite taken with their family’s story. Lord and Lady Anderson lost both of their sons and only male heirs in the battle of Svolder, leaving the sizeable demesne without an heir.

Your father, our King, has agreed to the betrothal of their daughter, Sigyn, to you, my sweet prince Loki. The betrothal contract has been signed and witnessed. You will inherit Smaragdberg on your wife’s behalf when Lord Anderson passes on to Valhalla. Until then, you and your bride will live at the palace and be tutored in Feudalism.

Your father wanted to wait to tell you when we returned, but I wanted you boys to hear it from me first. This is quite the announcement to have sprung on you in a letter. I am sorry to break the news to you in this way. Please forgive me.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list. Thanks!

XOXO- Rayne 💚

[waterstar2016]

This is a personal post. I am sharing my experience to show others how much a comment can hurt. This situation happened at work.

Over the last year, I have been on a weight loss journey. We are all a result of our experiences. I had an emotional and physically abusive mother who called me fat, ugly and stupid from the time I was 9 to when my father finally found out about the abuse and kicked her out when I was 18. This woman, who was supposed to be my mother, arranged a marriage for me when I was barely 17…to a 50 year old man in Barbados, because I wouldn’t be able to find a husband.

I have had more abusive realationships than I have had good ones with men. Narcissistic, emotional and one even physically abusive.

I managed a retirement home during COVID and almost killed myself because I was caring more about others than myself.

I gained weight.

These reasons aren’t excuses. They are the facts of life that I had to deal with.

These facts are that my blood pressure was through the roof. My resting HR was well into the danger zone. I could have died.

Over the last year I have lost 70lbs. I want to lose about that much more. I have cried, sweated and injured myself (not on purpose or even by working to hard…shit just happens), all in the hopes to get my health back.

At work we have a new majority shareholder. Not my boss, but still a major part of my work environment.

I get taken out to lunch with my other coworker and what does this man say as I am eating? “Have you always been a bigger girl?”

I was so shocked I couldn’t react. I was frozen. I am in a public restaurant while a man that doesn’t know me is telling me to lose weight.

I managed to hold it together for the rest of the meal. I did not say anything. I kept myself professional.

That unprofessional, uncalled for bullshit has made me cry for the last day.

Those few insensitive words brought back that little voice in my head that says “you’re fat, you’re ugly” screaming to the surface.

I was just starting to feel better about myself even though I have more weight to lose. Guess what. I’m fucking trying.

I have been single for 4 years because I have been trying to ‘find myself’ again after a 14 year off and on emotionally abusive relationship.

I only recently started to dip my toes back in the dating pool and might even be going on a date in the near future.

I want to hide. I want to punch my pillow. I want to scream.

I will not let this destroy me or the work I have done. I will get over it.

I do however, need to pick up the pieces of my shattered confidence and put them back together.

I am sharing this for transparency. I am sharing this because I am a believer of body positivity. I am sharing this because maybe someone else is going through something similar…

You’re not alone.

The sad thing is…is that I know I’m not either.

Jenn

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

A Howl in the Night

Since The Night Market is currently in the process of getting edited and put on Steam, I've been missing it quite a bit!

Moreover, I've been missing my girl Hazel and the absolutely fantastic world around her.

So what better way to reminisce than creating more fic?

If you haven't read The Night Market, I highly recommend you check out @night-market-if ! It's an extremely awesome community and a phenomenal read. And this piece will definitely contain spoilers for the end of book 1!

Warnings for mentions of blood, the threat of violence, and toxic parents.

----

There was a presence in the house.

It hid well around Lucinda, a strange pressure on the air that disappeared when she set foot in a room.

She knew the bones of this house well. Every floorboard, every whorl of wood, every pane of glass was hers, swelling with power, down to the very foundation.

The presence was not.

It followed Hazel loyally, swirling around her, settling like a mantle on a queen. Where Hazel walked, the house warmed. Flowers bloomed in the dead of winter, glass polished itself, silver shone bright.

Everything was just a fraction smoother whenever her daughter was around, as if the universe wished to be kind to the girl.

As if the very Night Market had found Hazel broken, and fallen in love regardless.

Lucinda was not ignorant of the presence. In fact, she could not be.

The presence hid, but it protected.

In the morning, as much as morning in darkness could be, Lucinda once again tried to speak to her child on the subject of curses.

Hazel's shoulders tensed, and the presence grew ever-so-slightly.

"Hazel, if you only-" As Lucinda reached out to touch her daughter's shoulder, a spark snapped in the air, a pop of static so sharp it made her hiss and yank her hand back.

"Mother?" Hazel looked up, alarmed. "What happened?"

Lucinda waved her off. "It's fine, girl. Don't worry about it. Go wash the breakfast dishes."

Hazel bit her lip, but rose, collecting the plates. As she wandered off into the kitchen, Lucinda glanced down at her hand.

A single bead of blood welled up bright on her fingertip. A warning.

She smiled. "How cute. You'll have to try harder than that."

The air chilled around her. The teacup and saucer in front of her cracked, and plants grew the slightest hint of thorns.

"This is my house. You are not welcome here." Even as she went to pull on the magic around her, she felt the house…resist. It was a strange feeling. The magic that had once been hers seemed to hesitate, almost as if it was used to a gentler, kinder hand.

Her expression darkened. She raised up the hand that had bled, feeling the single bead of blood begin to rise.

And then, footsteps sounded behind her.

The presence vanished. Lucinda closed her hand, tucking it behind her back as she turned. "Hazel, dear, have you finished the dishes already?" She asked sweetly.

Hazel nodded. "Yes, Mother." She shifted on her feet, seemingly unaware of the conflict that had almost occured. "If you'll excuse me, there's a stray dog outside, I have to feed him. He comes by every once in a while for scraps." Hazel dipped past, a bowl of chopped meat and vegetables in her hand.

Lucinda sighed, watching her daughter pass. The presence had vanished, but that didn't mean it wasn't still around, and Lucinda remained on edge. "Girl, there are no dogs in…the…" She trailed off.

As Hazel opened the front door, stepping outside, she set the bowl down and flung her arms around a massive dog. With a long black muzzle and long dark brown fur, it wagged its tail slightly at Hazel's affections.

Mr. Billows wove around it, tail held high.

Lucinda was sure all her daughter saw was a dog. After all, that was what she was supposed to see.

The old witch, however, saw a wolf. Golden eyes like lamplight reflected back at her, staring her down like she was a rabbit on a hungry winter night.

Instantly she understood where the presence had gone. It had always been here.

It would always be here.

And it was making it very clear of who it was here to protect.

Lucinda raised an eyebrow.

Well, well. It seems Hazel's made some new friends while I was gone.

The wolf nuzzled Hazel softly before dipping its head down to eat.

Its eyes never left Lucinda's.

[ducknotinarow]

[CharlieRhodes] "Hey, it's alright. I'm here for you."

| 💜💜💜 --- 'I love you' Sentence Starters;

It wasn't really a secret that Rhode and his step mother Karine just did not like one another. Anyone could see it when ever Rhodes how to mention having a step-mother or how she just seemed to hate the mere fact Rhodes existed. Sometime Rhodes was positive Karine assumed his Dad would just dip of of Rhode's life, so when he didn't? Guess it was Rhodes fault least that's how she made it out to be since he felt like he was coastally being punished. At most Rhode's didn't let her have the satisfaction of getting under his feathers. In truth she hardly phased him ever since her whole ploy to see off his stuff after whispering into his father ear about it being a distraction from school. Rhodes felt it made it extremely clear.

And in truth? Rhodes was fine with the mutual understanding that they didn't like each other. A lot of what she said never really got to him much he just tuned her out. HE found ways to not deal with her directly as much as possible making excuses for being out late enough so he ate dinner alone once home. If he was lucky she bother to leave food aside for him. Mostly he was on his own. It why this trip to the beach with his boyfriends sounded great.

Let him get away from her mostly, in truth Rhodes hadn't really been feeling much like well Rhodes. His mother noticed it right away when he came to her place so it be easier for Charlie to pick him up from there then they could head to Buddy's place. Of course, he insisted he was fine. Laid back as always Rhodes should have been born a duck with how much he like to act as if stuff just rolled right off his back. Rhodes had hoped being with his mom would get him out from the funk it didn't. Charlie picked him up and Rhode opted to 'up' his usual self. Throwing out a playful remark to Buddy's dad Richard that he was going to turn those grey's white if he worried anymore.

Rhodes regrated it the second he said it.

How could he be so stupid? Richard was a great guy very chill and nice to him. Hell they talked all about coffee and food together he honestly thought Richard was cool. So he shows that respect with a comment like that? Rhodes had decided to sit in the back seat after, framing car sickness. They had see his weak stomach in action before after all. Driving into the beach town he hope his thoughts would just clear right out as he stared up at the roof of the car. Bu he could still hear that bitches voice. Like a trapped echo in his mind on repeat. He already knew how she felt about Rhodes when it came to him being gay after all. as if she needed another reason to dislike him he dared to be gay on top of it all. Karine might be a bitch but she wasn't a stupid one. While she was a stupid bitch just not in that sense. she seemed on to Rhodes relationship with Buddy and Charlie even before things were official between the three of them. Just the comments she would make about him was one thing already. When he spend the night at one of their places or have them over at his mom's. Hell the one time Buddy came and stayed in Duckberge.

'Is it really a sleep over when your a fag?'

'Do your friends know you like boys? it doesn't make them uncomfortable. I would be uncomfortable sleeping near a faggot that might touch me well I slept.'

Rhodes squeezed his eyes shut trying to tune out her stupid voice. He knew that wasn't true none of it was true after all they were dating. Didn't mean it didn't effect him even just a little bit. And yet? He could handle her stupid mouth running and making such jumps about him. That's just it him.

'Oh so the three of you are going a trips...as friends?' the way she sneered when she had said 'Friends'. Sure his mother knew, his mother was very happy to embrace her gay son. One of those moms that went to pride events and offered mom hugs. Or wearing a shirt that said my son is gay.

He really did love her.

The polar opposite of his step-monster.

The car finally pulled to a stop and Rhodes took a moment to finally sit up eyeing the gas station, something about getting gas, good chance for a bathroom break getting some food even. Or what Rhodes was craving the most? A good drag from his vape. Rhodes couldn't recall if he said a single word to either of his boyfriends before he opened the door and walked away. Buddy was still dealing with the ban on smoking they were put on by their dad's so he walked a ways from the rest stop near what was clearly once a pay phone. Said phone having been ripping out and now just empty. Well almost empty seems it was now a trash can with the random assortment of junk inside. Rhode fished in his pocket tell he found his pen and put it to his beak. that first taste seemed to really help clam his building nerves.

Rhodes wasn't worked up over the stuff she said about him he was used to that. He shouldn't be. He was annoyed by what she seemed to think of his boyfriends. As if that was news that night when they all gathered for a lot of them came out as being queer after all.

No it was when she pulled Erin in to the mix.

'I better not caught my daughter getting any funny ideas after being around a bunch of faggots. Always turning everyone around them into one themself.'

He blew out a cloud of smoke and let his eyes close, trying to shut that out. It wasn't so much what she, though maybe it slightly was. It was more so the dread he felt like this over looming constant threat the more and more comfortable she got with making comments about him, his relationships even, he wasn't to okay with what she said about him turning Erin gay but whatever. Like a knife hung over his head he wondered when she would finally out him to his dad.

Rhodes eyes opened when he heard Charlie come to get him because they were all set to get back on the road. "Yeah, okay, sounds good." Rhodes stated suddenly as he tool one more drag. "Might need to drive with the windows down. Don't think Buddy is all that's fine around the vaping just yet." Of course that might have been enough to seel that Rhodes isn't fine something Charile points out when asking.

Rhodes really didn't want to bring down the vibe of the trip but guess he couldn't really keep it all to himself either. But he guesses it might be better to tell both his boyfriend's about.

"I am not no." Rhodes confesses "I had a bit of a run in with Karine the other day that's still pissing me off." Not a lie but not fully what was getting to him.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm here for you."

Rhodes breaths out a laugh and offers a smile towards Charlie. "Yeah I know Charlie, I promise a bit more time laying in the back of the car and I'll tell you what's up okay?" He knows Charlie won't push, wasn't his style. "I also think you shoild carry me back to the car I'm clearly dying from car sickness." He jokes a bit.

It dosent solve his worry but dose feel nice to remember he isn't alone.

Unlike how he felt his home life might become. If Karine could convince his dad to seel off what made him happy? What would she get his dad to agree with when she outted Rhodes?

[breitzbachbea]

Your turn! 3, 10 and 23 🤗

YES, another excuse to gush about the kids! Thank you! <3

OC Ask Game

Because I have roughly 240 OCs for my Human/Organized Crime AU - Yes, that is not an exaggeration, I recently counted them again. To be fair, this includes anyone I ever gave a name to, but even if they're an insignificant backstory character, they are a character nonetheless.

But because I have so many, I'll choose one for each answer!

3. is your character an indoor or outdoor person?

Leo Reiter is a very outdoorsy person! They're Lilli Zwingli's right hand and the only one in Team Liechtenstein who's actually a Liechtensteiner. As a child, they loved to play around with others in the nature around the town and go on hiking trips with their parents and dog(s). During their 20s and early 30s, they had less and less time for it. Both because of the pressures to excel at their job (they worked in finance before Lilli's big brother offered them a job) and because the dysphoria and depression was growing more and more over the years. They only went hiking for business team building and didn't enjoy it much. However, after they quit their job and started to work on their gender presentation, they found their way back to it. These days Leo enjoys any kind of outdoor activity, whether it's alone, with family and friends or business partners, again! Nothing like a good day hiking in the Alps!

(The depression, along with a ton of other baggage, was also caused by the fact that Leo tried everything, including sexual favours, to get ahead in their company. It wasn't a very fulfilling life, only living for others and always playing along - which then lead to them isolating themselves and building giant walls around them, once they left finance. Lego, the ship of Leo and Hugo, is ... god, is it a mess.)

And here's a picture of Team Liechtenstein! From left to right we have Leo, Hugo and Lilli! The artist is @c0ffinated - Hugo is their OC!

And here's one featuring Josef, the dog of Leo's parents

10. what kind of music do they enjoy?

Charlie Higgins loves Classic and Hard Rock! He's the right hand and best friend, basically brother from another mother, to Harry O'Connel. (Harry is my Ireland which I made when I was 14. That's why he has an English name ... in the hetaverse, he's called Liam now, but old habits die hard, so it's Harry everywhere else).

To be fair, he enjoys most types of Rock and even dips his toes into the transition zone between Rock and Heavy Metal. Thin Lizzy, AC/DC, Queen, KISS - He loves those bands. At the same time, he's also into pop & a big fan of Mika. I honestly can't wait to diegetically integrate two Mika songs into my rewrites of Irish Problems and Italian Affairs, the two fics I've written for the main story arch of my AU so far.

In Irish Problems, which I am currently rewriting, I love the thought that once Harry has come to terms that he's probably bisexual and interested in Michele (my Sicily OC and the man they're trying to broker a deal with), Charlie breaks out 'Lollipop' to hype Harry up for the business dinner and encourage him in his identity while also downplaying the concern that his rose coloured glasses would endanger the deal. "Jesus loves her - She wants mooore! Oh, bad girls get you down - Sing it! Sucking too hard on your lollipop, oh love's gonna get you down ..."

In Italian Affairs, I'd love to slip "Grace Kelly" in, because there's a HUGE Charco subplot. Charco is the ship of Charlie and Marco Bontade, one of Michele's right hand. Love the idea of Charlie singing it while getting ready for dinner in the bathroom of his hotel suite. The entire song encapsulates the subplot so perfectly ... Charlie's fear of being too much, being unprofessional and at the same time insecure that he'll never be enough for Marco. At the same, Marco's subconsciously held back by his twin brother Lorenzo, because falling out of sync is scary to both of them ... so the fact that Lorenzo doesn't like Charlie makes Marco think he mustn't either ...

"How can I help it, how can I help it? How can I help what you think? Hello my baby, hello my baby, putting my life on the brink. Why don't you like me, why don't you like me, why don't you like yourself?"

So in short, I think Charlie enjoys anything with a flair of drama, no matter how butch or glam, and a sweet guitar riff makes everything better! As long as he can move his body and sing along, he's happy with it.

I think it's illegal to post that one picture Jonah did of him YET again to tumblr, but you can see it in all its glory here.

Have these two done by @pyromaniacqueen too!

(Marco is on the left on the next one, Charlie on the right)

23. what are your OC’s biggest flaws and biggest strengths?

Tahir Rashid's theme song should be "Oh No!" by Marina. He's Arthur Kirkland's right hand and a certified lawyer who went through law school with flying colours. (We don't talk about the subsequent burnout and breakdown that made him end up in the mob ...)

Tahir's biggest strengths are that he's tirelessly dedicated to his work and damn good at it. The best is only just good enough, he's got a strong work ethic and keeps not only his own life in order, but keeps an eye on everyone else as well. He's incredibly intelligent, very eloquent and can be a charmer as well. He loves his family & especially his little sister more than anything else - to ensure a better life for his loved ones was the main reason he became a lawyer. He's often also the voice of reason to Arthur and Robert's hotheads. (Robert is the other right hand). He usually opts for a diplomatic solution to avoid confrontation, pulling strings behind the scene.

However, the spite that fuels his work ethic also is one of his biggest flaws. He's just as proud as the other two, wears his head pretty high and is easily annoyed by others. He's snarky and voices his disdain for others freely. He likes to hold grudges. Though very disciplined, he can't say no and pushes himself beyond the boundaries of his body to ensure that work gets done (which can be a flaw as well as strength). And his discipline also makes it incredibly hard for him to express emotions, putting a strain on relationships he actually cares about and on his own emotional & mental well-being. (I have never seen three so emotionally stunted men like Team England, I swear to God). His sensibility also turns into cowardice at times and when it comes to physical confrontations, he has to hide behind Robert & Arthur. As much of a deadly weapon he is behind a desk with a law book, as useless is he at an actual fist fight.

Here's a lovely Team England picture by @captkirkland, with Arthur on the right, Tahir in the middle and Robert on the left

And another two contributions by Jonah, first chibi Team England and a wonderful Railey one (Railey is Tahir/Robert as ship)

[wyrdstonethenovel]

CH 22: At Sea

AN: Wyrdstone is a serial fantasy novel updating every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday here on Tumblr. Wyrdstone is a good ol' fashioned rivals fighting for the throne TM. With magic. And gods. And world building. And the gayz. Did I mention the gayz? Enjoy:

XXII. AT SEA 

The Semperimar was calm as the first neptor made their stops along the continent’s coastline. Admrilia’s days fell into a busy routine spent keeping careful stock of the tributes and dispatching ships back to Aegtrys. The grain from Kinos was already well on its way to being distributed among the small towns and villages that lined Aegtrys Territory’s coast for the upcoming winter. 

Inside the Conqueror’s large tent, Admrilia ran a hand along the Conqueror’s map of the empire, her thoughts drifting to what Asho would be doing in that very moment. She was certain that Asho would drink and whore his way through Iornore. So what if he received training in the wyrd at the Conqueror’s side? The Conqueror could hardly stand Asho— 

Besides, her cousin had always had grandiose notions of himself. Surely his hubris would be his downfall. And, the Conqueror had trusted her, not him, to root out a rebellion. Admrilia’s hand found the letter that had been delivered to the Conqueror back in Kinos. She had reread the missive so many times she knew it by heart. 

Atesh the Conqueror: Divine Emperor, Stormlord Chosen, First Citizen of the Ashenian People, and he who is most merciful, it is I, Wyn-Kai, Governor of Ker, writing with the most grave suspicions concerning your personal safety as you embark on your most honored Triumph. 

There are whispers of a rebellion brewing throughout Ker Territory. The kerai in the remaining Houses may be planning to overthrow your legions. I have recently received the most horrible news that the honorable Legate Xur has been assassinated. The House of Sky is in chaos. More of your Houses may be on the brink of uprising. 

Please be cautious in your travels. 

Your humble servant, 

— Wyn-Kai 

Governor of Ker Territory 

This was her mission. To be sent to the capital of Ker Territory, to root out a rebellion and crush it beneath her fist. She had done it before, she was the Argenti. Admrilia pressed the papyrus back down on the desk. And it will not be like last time. Her scowl deepened as Advisors Khispen and Clavo dipped their permanently balding heads into the tent. Of course the Conqueror would not have left her completely unsupervised… 

“What news.”

Khispen looked down his shrewd nose as he kissed her knuckles. “Yes, Argenti. The ships have been making steady progress as anticipated.” 

Admrilia nodded. “And of Ker?”

“I have written to my contacts, Argenti.” The senior Clavo’s voice was calm. “My son has yet to respond.” 

“I trust you have informed all of the legates of Triumph's changes.” 

“I have, and I will inform you at once when I receive a response.” 

“And from the Emperor?”

“No news.” 

Admrilia bit the inside of her lip to hide her disappointment. “Very well.Thank you both?” Advisor Clavo bowed stiffly and took his leave. Khispen stood halfway between the desk and the tent flaps. “Is there anything else?”

“In fact, there is. News from Aegtrys.” Khispen pulled the missive from the folds of his never ending robes. Khispen’s arthritic hand held the letter aloft for a honeyed moment before passing it off.

Admrilia eyed the seal. “If you’d excuse me.” 

The letter smelled of her mother’s cyprus as she opened it. The letter was written in kiyr cypher, and Admrilia cracked a smile. She spent the next hour deciphering her mother’s letter. 

Daughter, 

I trust that you are well. Your father has received news that the Conqueror has continued to Iornore while you sail for Ash-Kai. The Conqueror is wise in his council. 

It hits me that we have never discussed much of my homeland. This is entirely my fault. You were sired and raised for your role to the Ashenian Empire. I see now the potential error of this. Forgive me if I am belaboring your beloved tutors. 

The Kingdom of Ker was once a collection of ten noble Houses. The Houses were run by their ruling families, and coexisted in their separate territories. Fifty years ago, when the Emperor had his conquest he eradicated the House of the River, the House of the Valley, the House of the Ram, and the House of the Embalmers. The remaining Houses joined forces and fled into the Dunelands, seeking aid from the First House. 

The Conqueror’s legion followed and laid siege. The carnage was terrible as the survivors were trapped with no food or water. My father, the wise Wyn-Kai, negotiated a surrender. Some in Ker call my father ‘The Great Betrayer’ but make no mistake, my father saved Ker. For the Conqueror can— 

Admrilia groaned in frustration. Her mother had scratched out several lines of blocky text, clearly changing her train of thought. Adrmilia scanned to where the letter picked back up. 

While I pray that a brewing insurrection is nothing but a fantastical plot, I fear the worst. I would turn to the remaining Houses with surviving members of the old ruling class. They have lost everything to the Conquering. My father, as a loyalist to the Empire, has no shortage of enemies. 

Attached to this letter is another for my parents. Please present it to them and enjoy their company as much as possible in my absence. I hope you gain an appreciation, if nothing else, for my homeland. 

Duty Above All, 

— Raja-Kai 

Admrilia took the enclosed parchment and stashed it away. She  brought the letter to her nostrils, inhaling its scent of cyprus and salt. She watched as the candle flames ate the words. When she left the Conqueror’s tent hours later the clouds had swelled and burst with warm rain. The droplets hit her tongue as she went below decks to retire. 

Her dreams were occupied with honeyed memories of the tidepool’s water trailing up her calf. Then the water rose further up her thigh, sliding around her torso and along her back. She effortlessly coaxed the Semperimar to the edges of her fingertips. And then, a watery hand seized her throat, dragging her down to an abyss darker than the Conqueror’s eyes. 

[petrikaira]

The Maid

Barman's Keep pg 2 (previous)

Rating: E for everyone

Tw: Implied financial abuse

Braam hitched the cart outside, and with a bit of finagling, they headed in. On a weekday morning like this, the Barman’s keep wasn’t very busy. There was old Hendrik at the bar, nursing a hot toddy and looking absolutely blustered like he hadn’t gone home since the wind the day before, and a couple of families taking up on Sally’s cheap breakfast scattered around the wooden tables. The smell of bacon lingered in the air. Retha’s stomach grumbled.

She pushed it down, looking for anyone that stood out. She knew everyone in town, there was the Shomacher’s by the window, and then little Benson hanging out by the fish on the wall, absolutely enraptured by the tie of his mother’s sleeves. And then- there, past the table where Carolina Hatrick sat with a plate of half eaten eggs next to what must have been a grandson, there was- a stranger. Pale skin like frigid ice, hair as black as a raven’s wing. She had no idea who he or the lady with skin the color of peach cream was sitting beside him.

And he was looking right at her.

Retha grabbed her brother’s arm, pulling him and nudging him. She tilted her head at the stranger at the table behind Carolina. “Bet that’s him,” she said, excitedly.

“Just cause he’s a stranger doesn’t mean he’s the one who sent the flyer,” her brother complained, cross at being jostled. 

“Bet you a copper it is,” Retha said, feeling a rush at saying that. 

Their parents didn’t give them much of the coppers that were made from the egg sales, always claiming that “The copper’s here are just passing hand between hand, you’d barely get a chance to keep it before it was gone again” like it was some big argument against paying them well. Their work was expected for free, it was what family did. 

Braam waffled. The smell of bacon was replaced by the scent of a cup of hot tea, acrid and deep, as Retha could see the lights flicker across her brother’s eyes. 

“A copper can get you a nice jacket,” Retha whispered into her brother’s ears. “And then you could woo Rene or Janna while looking like a little king.”

Her brother swallowed. “That’s- not- that’s not a thing,” he muttered back to her, but by the tightness of his cheeks she could already tell she had convinced him. “Fine. A copper.”

“Only if I lose,” she said.

She knew she wouldn’t. 

Smiling wide, Retha pulled her brother towards the strangers table. HIs unblinking brown eyes had been trained on them the entire conversation, without fail. Retha knew that should be a warning, but she found herself intrigued instead. 

“Excuse me,” she said as they approached. Her fingers dipped into her pocket and closed around the edge of the parchment. “Are you the ones who posted the flier about the maid?”

She pulled it out with one movement. Up close, the woman the stranger was with bent forward from her position obscured by a hanging light. Her hair was tied back in a neat bun, graying at the temples and she smelled like soap. Her outfit was neat and understated, and looked freshly starched.

“That would be us,” the man said, his voice deep and rumbling. It was like listening to a land slide. “Glad someone found it. I am Prince Yuki Canis, and this is Zillah Pandev, head maid at my palace.”

Retha stared. A prince! She hadn’t been expecting a prince himself to come to interview for the new maid, not this far out from wherever they were from. Her thoughts were distracted by the smell of bacon filling the air as Sally herself placed down a plate of bacon, and one of toast on the empty side of the table.

“Just in time hon,” Sally said with a wink before sauntering back off towards the kitchens.

Retha gazed down at the plate of bacon and felt her stomach rumble, and her mouth salivate. Usually they had breakfast with the family when they came back from dropping off eggs.

“Retha, and Braam, was it?” The Prince asked with a knowing smile. “I could hear that stomach rumble from here. Please, sit and eat with us and we can discuss the flyer.”

Braam faltered for a second, and Retha could hear her brother’s stomach grumbling just as loud. Retha pulled up the chair across from Zillah Pandev, and settled her skirts around her. She was going to have some of that bacon. 

Her brother faltered. 

Rolling her eyes, Retha pulled him down. “Come on, sit, we might as well, mightn’t we?”

“It’s a bad idea,” Braam protested, even as he pulled the chair out from beside the table and grabbed one of the bacon strips.

It wasn’t until Retha grabbed her own bacon strip that she realized she had never told the prince their names. She bit into the salty, fatty strip and considered. She knew, logically, that she should be turned off and alarmed by this fact. It was the behavior of someone who had been staking out their family, wasn’t it? And yet. Yet.

She was more intrigued than ever before, and the delicious, crispy warm bacon only cemented this.

[incaensio]

"there's rivers and streams at four too?" annie speaks of the hot weather, but considering they have plenty of water (that gives access to fresh food) and seemingly no supervision, district four seems like heaven on earth. no wonder annie never wants to leave. "that's amazing." katniss reins in a sigh. "oh, yeah." the wheels in her brain turn rapidly as she seeks for an excuse — katniss couldn't bother wondering how they could have spinned the way she was such a natural in the arena last year: she had ran through the woods, climbed trees like a chipmunk, found prey, hunted for it, skinned and cooked and she had even dipped her body and swam a bit around the shallow lakes. "i'm friends with the mayor's daughter, madge." that part is true. "she has a pool in her backyard." that one is a lie, but annie would never know that, as the grounds were usually restricted to victors on tours, since they're supposed to enjoy only the dinner and the people within the walls of the mayor's house (or at least, that had been her experience as her attendants had often squeaked as they dragged katniss and peeta in their lovebirds façade back indoors).

katniss scoffs. "even their roses are weird here." she hates them. she hates him. even as she's yet to encounter the owner of the house, his presence is noted at every turn, at every painting, at every bowl with painted roses and the vases with real ones, ever waffing his disgusting scent of artificiality. katniss doesn't realize she's scowling until annie is speaking again, and there is a small part of her — that katniss is all too aware of — that is eager for annie to enjoy the fruit. "my mother?" her eyebrows come up. oh. the interviews. no, katniss had not watched them — peeta and her had rejoiced at the thought of being the last eight during their time in the cave, but after getting home and knowing how they had spun her family life, katniss had been too upset to even think of it. then, she had been so eager to leave the games behind forever; that twenty - one year old was foolish and still so innocent. unfortunately, there's no getting out of this. katniss' eyes goes downcast, and she picks a phyllo pastry filled with pistachios to distract herself, breaking the pastry apart with her fingertips. "yes, it's her calling. her parents were apothecaries, but we don't have hospitals or doctors at twelve so we do the best we can." annie doesn't need to know how they've spent most of the year taking half - naked, half - dead people in their kitchen to heal wounds inflicted both by the mine, starvation and the peacekeepers.

"must have been magical to see it for the first time." first snow always is. one of katniss' first memories was waking herself up and then prim so they could play in a winter wonderland, building their own snowmen and sticking spare buttons on their frame, giving them names and telling dad the snowmen are also off their mine work for sunday. of course, katniss has seen snow less romantically as she grew; winter meant food got sparser, and they relied more on coal, and there were particularly dark days they ate only hard bread, dried herbs and melted snow. "my mother always used to say that, medically speaking, the cold is better. we can use snow for compresses for twisted limbs and lacerations." her hand instinctively goes to her cheek; the scar from the lashing is entirely gone now, as if it never even happened, but she recalls the several days prim had pushed snow packs on her eye until her face was numb. she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear as if to mask the previous motion, and then finally shrugs. "i don't know, i guess it's better now." the house at the victor's village was a work of architecture, both beautiful and practical; they wouldn't be too hot nor too cold even if they tried. "not for everyone, though." the drastic weather changes at the seam were torturous, only adding to the normalized high death count already brought by extreme poverty.

"thea ellis." she repeats, using one of her mother's memorization tools. "i will keep her in mind." more or less. katniss isn't sure she can entirely trust annie, as nice as she is — she has an air of innocence that is almost laughable, because it doesn't fit people like them, and it does no good for katniss to be too trusting. especially when she is so adamant on defending finnick odair. sure, he had been her mentor, but would katniss be so insistent on defending haymitch? she knows his faults, and often pokes him for those herself when she's annoyed. but then she realizes that if it had been someone bad-mouthing peeta, she'd be furious because she knows him, knows what he's gone through. does annie know finnick? she's calling him finn, so she may? still, it's an odd sight in her head, annie hanging around the tan god - like figure that, last katniss has seen, was making several capitolites giggle with his greasy words. "he was your mentor, i guess?" she raises an eyebrow, trying to rationalize this. she, too, felt a sort of debt towards haymitch. it comes when someone else actually works to keep you alive. but her mentor was as he showed himself to be: straightforward, blunt, crass, drunk. it wouldn't be easy to convince katniss that finnick had any sort of depth.

" yes, but not like how you'd think, " she being assumptious here. what would come to mind if someone mentioned saltwater ? " you shouldn't drink it, it's not like freshwater. but i've noticed that the salt makes it more dense than bodies of water up north that are fresh. " in the last five years, she's had brief bouts of heading further into mainland. once was to see the business fletcher requested funds for. much of that time she'd prefer to forget. " if they do have restrictions, i haven't seen them. sailors sometimes head out pretty far for their catches. deep sea fisherman are often so loose-lipped about their voyages, and i haven't heard them talk about limits. it'd probably be hard to impose. the sea is unpredictable at times. " it gives ; it takes. there were times when she'd reunite with finn, and they'd talk about packing rations before sailing far away from panem. it's wishful thinking, nothing is out there. such daydreams offered an escape from harsher realities though.

introspection halts at the whispered confession, processing only the words of katniss everdeen. " that's rare in twelve, isn't it ? " annie's voice matches the other woman's volume. in four, swimming was almost a necessity. even if you didn't work on the water, all industry led back to it. a lot of children turned to the academy ; some seeked a means to provide for their families, others craved the glory. regardless if they enrolled into the program or not, from a young age children learned skills like fishing, sailing, making nets, tying knots ... the list goes on. it's a mere coincidence that these skills of daily life also are considered survival skills. knowing how to propell oneself in the water isn't special for one from four, but from twelve ? annie is visibly impressed. ( it's something that can save a life, annie knows all too well. ) the question of how rings in her mind.

" things have a tendency to be a bit rose colored here. " unintentional pun is stated there. though annie knew the president had a fondness for roses, most do after all, she's unaware of how snow taunts the other with the beautiful flowers. she has much more to say on that, but stifles herself. a room of capitolites isn't the place to say it. her thoughts move to her fellow victors from four and thea, and how the capitol took so much from each just for drifting slightly off the line. ( she worries how her own drifting can directly impact the others too. ) soon however katniss is donning a plate of strawberries, offering them to her. " thank you, " the gratitude is quickly stated. this is the second time that the younger victor went out of her way to offer food. it's very kind, even if a tad unnecessary. it's something uncommon at these galas. cresta had seen her interact with rue and peeta in the arena. beck was so adamant that her softness there was a facade ; annie disagreed then, and does even more now.

" that's one thing i can be thankful for. my grandmother never has to worry about those kinds of things again. " her grandfather wouldn't have to either if he hadn't passed a decade and a half ago. agatha will work until she dies though. stagnation was a curse in the elderly woman's eyes. with the stipends of victorship however, her grandmother was able to pay the market workers more and put her own paycheck back into the community. ( it makes sleeping at night a little easier, knowing annie can indirectly help improve life after being the reason for directly ruining twenty-three others. ) " your mother mentioned that when they were interviewing the families, " during the games, it goes unsaid. had katniss ever watched them after she escaped the arena ? " it's selfless to do something like that. i'm sure she's provided countless aid to people in twelve. "

so twelve does get four seasons. what a marvel ! she read about it in books. a lot can probably grow if given the capacity, katniss would just have to deal with brutal off seasons. " i saw some snow in six and nine during my tour. it was the first time i ever saw it really, " she remarks. the only time she ever saw that kind of weather. in a time were her memories blurred into a fuzz, that was something that remained vivid. " do you get used to that the cold ? " heat was never a problem for annie. the ocean in its vast unknown did not haunt her. snowflakes were beautiful and delicate, but in flurried waves it felt perilous though.

it feels almost frivolous to be going through a list of victors annie trusted. had it been someone like johanna, she would have assumed it had been a sarcastic question to just rub into. ( she thinks that, but also likes the fighter from seven. ) five years ago, it would have been nice to have someone answer it for her. though she did have hands that guided more tenderly than she can imagine haymitch does. " she is, and some of victors from two are exactly how you'd picture. but not her, i promise. career districts are more complex than most would think. " not all of them dream of honor or have a bloodthirsty quench. the tributes from one and two in the seventieth did. percy however trained at the academy, and would have been an example victor of four. his error was aligning himself with annie. having her back meant losing his head, quite literally. does it sound self-serving to vindicate some from one, two, and ultimately four ? she wonders, she'd understand if it did.

she's relieved that she doesn't have to do any convincing for mags or graham. she can only assume, given that katniss does not callout the two by name. a beat is taken at the mention of finnick though. for the first time in their conversation, annie is carefully choosing each of her words. " he plays the game better than most. people like him for that, " it's not the man she's come to know the years following the arena, but people have their personas to survive. " it works in his favor as a mentor, and gives his tributes an edge with sponsors, " she offers. finn was so young when he won. the shine that enthralled the capitol never left. he was shown no mercy in that regard. he won but his cost was greater than any other victor she's come to deeply know. do peeta and katniss know that the games never end yet ? she hopes not. the image of infatuated newlyweds getting used to capitol generosity could provide bliss alongside the ignorance. though whether one knows immediately or down the line, the truth reveals itself. there's no escape.

but speaking about the male victor in the context of the games feels wrong, feels cold. it's too analytical, and appears like she's trying to instigate an alliance of sorts. that's not annie's intention. he can put his hat on the table for that without annie. though she will likely air the distaste that katniss feels for him next time the two were together. ( few things were secret between odair and cresta after all. ) " finn he was there for me before and after in ways i could never repay him for. " these words feel less stale than the previous statement. and that's on annie not having to contemplate what she says. if she could show katniss the aptness finnick had for being gentle around those he cared for, she would in a heartbeat. but it's irrelevant, isn't it ? his peacocked charisma domineers his presence in the capitol. it's so different from the loveliness of his authenticity. it's a charm he is less willing to show to the masses. at least annie got to see the genuine finnick odair.

[lalunanymph]

bewitched (V) 

summary: Bound by the laws of a forced marriage to stop an impending turf war, can two conflicted souls find love amidst their clan’s deep-seated prejudice and hatred… or will it prove a strong enough force to destroy them for good?

pairing: naoya zen’in x f!reader

genre: forced marriage, historical AU

chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, heavy angst, violence

a/n: i have no excuse for this chapter 🥺 likes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3

writer’s cut 🎬 ➺ masterlist ➺ act six

Running your hands down the curve of your stomach, you could not believe the gift you were carrying beyond the layers of silk and cotton underneath your spread palms.

You were pregnant.

Shaky from the euphoria, you caressed your barely showing bump, remembering Misa’s words the day before your whole world turned on its head. “The baby would be about the size of an adzuki bean right now,” she had given you a tight smile when she said that. “You’re just in the middle of your first season.”

The first season. It was a precarious time when the baby would still be developing, and you remembered your mother’s words should you ever find yourself in this position.

“Rest well and keep stress levels to a minimum,” she advised when you had received your moon blood during the tender bloom of girlhood. “In times like these, you have to be brave, Y/N.”

“Be brave,” you whispered out loud, tracing one figure down the line of your belly. “Be brave, my little adzuki bean.” In a gentler tone, you said, “Papa will come home soon and he would be so pleased to hear about you.”

You pictured the look on Naoya’s expression once he found out the truth; would he laugh in joy? Tear up in happiness? Or, would he discard you and return back to his mistress’ side?

That thought dragged down the corners of your mouth and your melancholy returned. Suddenly terrified, you wanted to seek Misa out, and as if you had summoned her, your best friend appeared in the front door, cradling a tray of food in both her hands.

“Good morning, Lady Zen’in,” she chirped and set her offerings down. “I wanted to check on you and see if you needed anything.”

You sat up in bed and took the bowl of miso soup she offered with a nod of thanks. Blowing the steam from the surface, your attention was diverted when you noticed Misa chewing on her bottom lip.

“Y/N, about your pregnancy–”

“I know,” you gushed, setting the bowl down and turning your sparkling eyes to her, your hunger forgotten. “I cannot believe that this is happening!” In your hushed wonderment, you missed her wincing.

“About this, Y/N,” Misa started and you paused when she grasped your hands in hers, looking at you with shining eyes. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded after a beat of hesitation, wondering what your best friend had on her mind; Misa looked awfully pale. She took a deep breath. “Do not tell anyone about your pregnancy–only divulge it when the time is right.”

A dip appeared in your brow and you fixed her with a worried stare. “Am I required to know why there is a need for such caution?”

Knowing how your body was in a precarious state and you needed a ton of rest and support, Misa shook her head. “It’s nothing that requires your knowledge.”

“But am I safe?” You touched the swell of your lower belly, suddenly overtaken by a sense of foreboding. “And is my little adzuki safe, too?”

In answer, Misa took your hands once more and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I will do everything in my power to protect the both of you.”

Exhaling shakily, you were grateful for having her with you. “S-should I tell my husband?”

Misa contemplated it and shook her head. “I think you should wait until you pass your first season–to see if you are in the clear before you tell him the good news.” Her words made sense and once more, you nodded, docile in the face of this turn of events. Just yesterday you were a young woman who was torn between the forces of duty and love, and today, you were carrying that product of a revered union–a Kamo-Zen’in heir that was the first in its history.

What you had nestled in your womb was more precious than freshwater pearls or beluga roe. It was yours and Naoya’s child; a baby that would unite the two warring fiefs together after almost a century of bloody conflict. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, elated at the very thought of this child bringing peace to the lands–and he or she was not even born yet!

They did not know the greatness they were destined to achieve and you felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

Misa rubbed the tears from your face with her thumb, her smile soft. “Do not restrain yourself from rejoicing, Y/N,” she said in a tender tone. “You’re going to be a mother to the most paramount baby in this prefecture.”

Chiyo gripped the letter in both hands when she saw you moving towards your carriage after another day spent with the children.

You were all smiles, and though it was not out of your comportment to bid everyone farewell with your kindly demeanor, to the small girl, the radiance you sported was unmissable. You were like the resplendent moon princess from your stories, reflecting the shine of the sun prince’s rays–his love ensconcing you in a bedazzling glow. She approached you and passed the letter that the tall man with the deep under-eye circles had given to her at the gates and your expression remained neutral.

“Thank you, Chiyo-chan,” you murmured, unfurling the scroll of paper.

Your eyes darted across the message and widened infinitesimally. Choso’s handwriting was messier, his scrawl indicating that this letter was done in haste.

Y/N,

The envoy will be arriving next week.

Get your ladies ready and meet the one with a scar on his face.

– RSW.

You tore the letter into two and stuffed the shreds in your kimono the moment you got back into your chambers. You debated on not following through with this plan, but something told you that you had to be wary; between Misa’s warning and the sinking sensation in your gut, this was not the best of times to announce your pregnancy to the estate.

And so you bide your time, filling it with reading, writing, and taking your meals in your chambers. Since the men were not around, the women ran the schedules and inner mechanisms of the Zen’in household which gave you a respite from appearing put together all the time. You could let your hair down–physically and literally–without a care to who would perceive you.

Making your way into the library to whittle the hours away, you ran into a head of spiky, inky locks bent over a tome of stories and cleared your throat in greeting.

“Y/N-san,” the young man said and closed the book, bowing his head forward which you reciprocated with a tilt of yours.

“Hello, Megumi-kun,” you said and sat opposite of him. He regarded your loose locks and unlined yukata with mild interest, never having seen you look this relaxed and untroubled.

“You look well, Y/N-san,” he said. “Has there been any word from my uncle?”

Your answering smile was tight. “Thank you, Megumi-kun and no, I have not heard from Naoya-sama.”

“Ah.”

You caught sight of what he was reading and flickered your curious gaze to him. “Heian love poems,” you mused. “I used to read these when I was a girl, too.”

It would never cease to amaze you how different Megumi was from his father; while Toji was all brazen in confidence, his son was quieter and solemn. The contrast was endearing when he blushed and said, “I-I was curious about this.”

“It’s good prose if you would ever want to woo a woman you loved,” you said and recalled how Toji had mentioned he was betrothed to someone from the Inumaki clan. “Have you met her?”

Megumi sensed who you were referring to and the tips of his ears grew warmer. “Are you speaking of Toge-san’s sister?”

“Yes,” you said, marveling at his countenance that was unlike a young schoolboy thinking about the person of his affections.

“I-I have,” he muttered and rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s… charming.”

You couldn’t stop your spontaneous chortle and he looked at you in open curiosity. “Ah, how I wished I could turn back time and actually meet your uncle first.”

Megumi’s interest was further piqued by the mention of your marriage to Naoya. “You did not even gaze at him prior to meeting in the temple?”

You leaned forward as if a humorous joke was about to depart from your lips and said, “The first time I even saw his face was when the veil of my shiromuku was drawn down.”

“I see,” Megumi mumbled and built his courage to ask you another question. “Were you afraid? Of marrying my uncle?”

You didn’t hesitate to nod. “Oh, I was. I was terrified.” The memories came back to you with unsolicited clarity and you inhaled deeply. “I didn’t have the best… perceptions… of the Zen’in clan and I was scared that it would be a loveless, luckless marriage.”

“And was it?”

From Megumi’s spirit of inquiry, it was obvious the young man was gathering details of your marriage to impose it upon the future of his own nuptials. How you wished someone would’ve done the same decency and spoke to you about the realities of arranged marriages before you were thrust into one.

Bracing yourself to tell this young man the truth, you thought back to your younger self from a few months ago and what you could’ve told her.

“If there’s one thing I learned from being married to Naoya-sama, Megumi-kun, is that in every marriage, you need patience.” Touching the tome across from you, you held a bemused smile across your lips. “It is unlike what these poetries say; love is not some soul-enlightening savior that will bring you back from the dead if it so pleases.” In a softer voice, you uttered, “It is a choice.”

The wistful smile grew to a gentle beam when you regarded the depth in his dark blue eyes. “Take the ramblings of a married woman to heart; when you are married to Toge-san’s sister, do treat her with respect and kindness, Megumi-kun. You will see that the burden of choice becomes easier day by day.”

Megumi exhaled a small laugh and nodded. “I will keep that in mind, Y/N-san. Thank you for your advice.”

You were delighted with his acquiescence and was about to comment on it when a low greeting caught your attention. Scarred lips stretched in a grin with a mop of dark hair announced the arrival of Zen’in Toji and he drank in the ease in your countenance with dancing eyes.

“I see I’ve found my son’s secret hiding place,” he jested and Megumi rolled his eyes.

“And I see I may have to find a new one,” Megumi commented drily and you had to bite down on a chortle at the mock hurt on Toji’s expression.

“‘Have children’ they said. ‘It will do you good’ they said,” Toji muttered, sidling into the empty space next to you with an exaggerated sigh of sorrow much to his son’s indignation. “Y’know, Y/N, it’s never too late to ruminate if having offspring is worthwhile,” he said and your heart skipped a beat.

Since Toji and Megumi were considered the ‘outsiders’ of their clan, it was within reason for you to speculate that news of your pregnancy would be of little consequence and advantage to them politically. Megumi may be the next heir in line if Naoya were to perish, but with his lineage guaranteed, that unseeming reality grew smaller day by day as the baby in your womb strengthened.

So, you cleared your throat and responded almost shyly. “It’s a bit too late for that now, Toji-san.”

His good-natured expression melted into one of shock when your words found purchase between the two men.

Megumi’s mouth parted in revelation. “Y/N-san–”

You shushed the both of them, a giggle slipping past your lips. “You must not tell anyone, alright? Not yet, anyway,” you said and gently caressed your belly. Two molten pairs of dark blue eyes charted your movements with an unconcealed stupor.

Toji whistled and shook his head. “I never thought I would live to see the day my little cousin finally becomes a father.” Lips curled in disbelief, he muttered, “This would be his first child.”

“He doesn’t have any bastards, does he?” you poised that question with a wince. “Any noteworthy ones that I should be aware of?”

Toji shook his head, running his thumb over the laceration across his mouth. “Naoya is the sort to be thorough with where he sows his wild seeds,” he faltered, “Unless… you count that cook.”

Where there was elation in your heart, it sank at the reminder of her. It wasn’t as if you had intended to forget her existence–it was merely an act of unprompted amnesia on your end from the events that were unfurling all around you.

“Right.”

Toji could sense that a pregnant woman’s ire was the last thing he should incur and he scoffed. “Any cravings?”

Now that you were adequately distracted with the thought of food, you shook your head.

“I thought I would be craving for peaches but…” Like a flash of lightning, a hungering for candied apples came to mind. “... do you know where I can find apples dipped in boiled sugar?”

The older Zen’in man’s nose wrinkled. “Candied apples? You sound almost as bad as Naoya–there was a point in time when that was all he would eat for dessert after supper.”

“Well, Y/N-san is carrying uncle’s baby,” Megumi reasoned quietly. “It would not be so farfetched for the child to hunger for his father’s favorite food.”

Snorting lightly, Toji fixed his son with a fond look. “Your mother was lucky then that you didn’t crave for offals–I would’ve been tempted to not leave her any.”

Megumi scoffed at his father’s antics and stood up. “I will go and ask the kitchens for some sugared apples, if you want, Y/N-san.”

Pointedly smiling at the younger man and ignoring his father’s pout at being disregarded by his cousin-in-law and son, you nodded. “That would be wonderful, Megumi-kun.” Shyer now, you muttered, “Could you say it's for you? I wouldn’t want the cooks to find anything amiss.”

Megumi did not refuse your request. “Of course, Y/N-san.”

Toji and you watched the young man depart for the kitchens and suggested you both take a walk near the pantry to meet him halfway, to which you heartily agreed. The sun was bright and Toji was an amicable force next to you, chattering about the updates of the fiefs as you listened on in languid interest.

Since the Kamo-Zen’in conflict held no direct interest to his position as an exiled Zen’in, Toji was forbidden from entering the militia ranks along with his son, and they were the remaining men in the estate, a position of little regard.

Some days, you wondered what sin he must’ve committed to not be held to a higher standard, but there were other days when you reminded yourself you did not mind. If it meant a young man and his father could be safe, you did not see the harm in sitting out from a conflict that had no immediate connection to them. Unlike you–this war had everything to do with your two families.

Sensing your foreboding, Toji changed the topic to how you had discovered your pregnancy and you told him all about the woman at the ryokan who read your palms. Something in his expression twisted and he chuckled.

“I see you met my mother.”

That stopped you in your tracks. “M-mother?”

He nodded. “She was banished to that ryokan after my exile and has lived there for years.”

Mute with the realization that you had encountered someone noteworthy without your knowledge, you asked, “Toji-san, why were you exiled?”

In answer to that, he shifted his gaze to Megumi who was walking towards them with a wooden bowl in his hands. “I chose love over duty,” he murmured, a faraway look in his eye, “And to the Zen’ins, that was unforgivable.”

You greeted Megumi with a warm smile and took the bowl from him with a gracious nod. The words that Toji uttered settled somewhere between pity and awe as you regarded them, for you sensed it had everything to do with the woman he discarded his life for and the young man before you now that bore a striking resemblance to him. Changing the subject to complement the light spring day, you decided to divulge what Toji’s mother had told you during your honeymoon.

“She predicted that I would be carrying twins,” you mused after swallowing a bite of the toothsome apples.

“Then her prediction will come true,” Toji shared and your eyes widened with a mixture of glee and disbelief.

“Are you positive?”

Once more, he traced his eyes to his son with a wholesome chuckle. “She predicted my son’s gender and month of birth just from my palms alone.” Turning his gaze back to you, he had in those deep blue eyes a twinkle of mirth for your slacked jaw. “I’m sure my little cousin will find himself enamored and suitably busy with two babies on hand.”

There were two adzuki beans in you. You were mute with amazement.

If that was the case then your excitement could not be contained and you munched on the candied apples happily, elated with the realization that this was truly your reality.

If only your husband would come home so that he could partake in this good news with you.

Word soon spread like wildfire that the Kamo-Zen’in conflict was coming to its bloody end.

All day, messengers would flit in and out of the estate with updates on the battle and you had received one letter from your husband which said: I will be coming home soon.

A part of you was relieved and you thanked the gods that he was safe. But the other half–the conflicted one–was mourning for the family members you lost in this senseless battle. You walked around with your head lowered, ears peeled for any indication of your brother’s demise but what had reached back to you was even more worrisome.

Though the Zen’ins had managed to secure their Takayama foothold from the Kamos, it was not without heavily sustained losses to their artillery and men, their numbers dwindled down to a quarter of its size. On the Kamos end, they didn’t fare any better–your brother’s men had put up a valiant fight and had half of the fiefs supporting them, but ultimately, they lost by the skin of their teeth due to an unexpected error–the fight had taken place in the gravel roads leading towards the mountains where they could not employ their camouflage.

It had been a humiliating ordeal for both parties.

Therefore, as the wife to a Zen’in but a Kamo by birth, you kept yourself away from the gossip and discussion, rarely showing your face around the estate unless it was to tend to your bonsai trees. Toji and Megumi had taken to spending time with you in the annex of your chambers where you could be seen with guests without raising any suspicions.

Misa and Megumi had struck up a good friendship, with the former inviting him for a game of cards and teasing the younger man whenever he lost. While you and Toji would speak mildly about the occurrences that happened outside of the walls, you could not soothe yourself with the news of this win.

It felt like the calm before the storm as you approached its eye, waiting for drastic repercussions as the hours flew by. Your new companions were wary of your vacillating moods, the morning sickness you experienced the motivating factor for the grouchiness lining your brow, and the downturn pucker of your mouth. This was one side effect of pregnancy you had not braced yourself for.

The next morning, word came back to you that the first battalion of Hei samurais had returned and your heart skipped a beat. Your husband must not be far behind.

Misa and Sayuri both helped you prepare to make yourself presentable once more; the flowing dark blue silk of the Houmangi kimono in the Zen’in colors accentuating your complexion and emphasizing your allegiance to your husband’s family. Since your marriage to him, you had limited yourself from sporting the verdant emerald of your clan for fear of drawing Naobito’s ire and chose the Zen’in dark blue or neutral colors as a sign of your submission.

Once your face paint was applied and your pulse points were scented with rose water, you were escorted out of your chambers in preparation to greet your husband. Every wife of a noble had a duty to portray themselves in the best light to bolster their husband’s spirits and you were no different; for the first time in your marriage, you looked forward to gazing upon your husband’s visage.

One by one, battle-worn men with dust encrusted in the cracks of their armor streamed past the main gate and you anxiously awaited the sight of your husband. A murmur came over the crowd of spectators as his black stead appeared and you had to hold back a gasp at the sight of him. Though he was every bit the victorious Zen’in son, the fatigue was apparent on his countenance. His non-dominant arm was wrapped in a sling and his customary two-toned hair was all but darkened from the dust and dirt of being embroiled in the battle for almost a week.

But, the moment he caught sight of you, his heavy bearing lightened considerably and he nudged Kuru forward, the horse responding to his master’s excitement. He disembarked from the beast and you recalled your manners, bowing low to him, unable to contain a small smile from worming its way onto your lips.

“Now this is a sight I have yearned for,” he murmured. “Let me take a look at you, wife.”

You straightened and fluttered your gaze to his shoulder level, maintaining your demure meekness as he drank you in. As if he had not waged war against your family crest for days on end or as if you were both not natural enemies separated from the degrees of distance between the fiefs, he drew you close to his side with his good hand, uncaring of the ripples of susurration from the dissenting crowd.

Your ladies trailed after you and you chanced peeks at your husband, the weight of his hand warm and reassuring against your hip.

“Are you well, husband?” you inquired in a soft voice, worry drenching your tone at the sight of him.

He nodded and you wished you could take his hand here and now. But, you were both in the eyes of his estate, and any untoward action that did not befit a lord and lady would be heavily scrutinized.

“I shall visit the infirmary later,” Naoya informed you and a frown drew the edges of his mouth down. “But first, I have to speak with my father. He is returning from Edo today.”

You reluctantly handed him back to the world, the press of his palm leaving an imprint of heat underneath the layers of silk you wore.

While this was a cause for celebration, Naoya sensed from the tensing of your shoulders and the downcast look in your gaze that your time spent without his protection was riddled with anxiety. He was appreciative of your fealty by wearing the Zen’in colors and the consistent glow in your cheeks reminded him that you were, by all means, a healthy and satisfied wife.

The Zen’in heir truly could not ask for more blessings since his sudden departure.

It was with a degree of unwillingness that he took leave from your side once you both reached the juncture towards the infirmary, gently running the back of his knuckles down your cheek.

“I will visit you tonight,” he breathed in a quiet promise, away from prying eyes and ears. You tilted your face forward in a show of veneration while you whispered back, “My doors will be open for you, husband.”

He bid you farewell and you did the same, walking back to your ladies and finding solace in their dancing eyes and mirth. Dinner passed and night soon fell with hushed tones as the injured found their rest and the last of the Zen’in sons returned home. The booming close of the main gate was a reassuring indication that all was well once more.

You found you could not contain your excitement when the promised meeting was coming close, fidgeting with your fingers and bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your ladies had long given up trying to soothe your agitation and had resorted to leaving you pacing in a small circle as you anticipated that knock.

The fragrance of cherry blossom and roses was heavy in your hair and neck, the quick scrub you ordered the maids to provide you with leaving your skin pink and tingling with heat. The thin yukata you wore showed off the silhouette of your body, a surely tantalizing sight to a man who had not seen his wife for days on end. You wanted to look every bit the perfect woman for Naoya when he set his eyes on you once more.

A knock resounded, echoing the bump of your heartbeat. Your ladies stilled their actions and flitted their gazes to you. Leashing your excitement, you strode to the door and creaked it open, dipping your head demurely when you saw it was him. Without another word, Noaya strode in and your ladies stood up, filing out one by one, leaving you alone with him.

“Husband.” The relief in your tone was palpable and the squeeze of your heart propelled you forward, uncaring that he was more subdued compared to this morning. You stood on your tiptoes, placing one, two, three kisses on the side of his mouth, your arms coming to wrap around him. Naoya did not return your affections. As if drawn into the sullen inaction, you shirked off the girlish giddiness and drank in the sight of his tight frown and lowered eyes.

His bottom lip was bleeding from a split cut and there were the markings of new bruises forming around his throat, injuries that were not present when you last saw him hours ago in the balmy morning.

“Husband–”

“I need to speak with you,” he said, unable to look into your eyes. Before you could open your mouth and inquire as to the nature of his sudden dour mannerisms, he uttered those words that rooted you to the spot, crushing your next breath.

The ground seemed to shake, your world tilting on the axis and splitting cleanly from your consciousness as if you were no longer one with this reality; your chest heaving and tightening as the syllables of his muffled utterance crashed all around you like a hail of stones upon the glass surface of a lake.

“I want us to consider getting a divorce.”

Before you could wrap your numbed convictions that this was all a lie, he dipped his face downward, slipping out of your room as your mind struggled to play catch up to the truth that he had carelessly dispelled.

Reflexively, your feet spurred you out of the stifling quarters, the hem of your yukata creating quiet whispers on the stone floor as you dashed out of your chambers barefooted, clutching your chest. The hallways were deserted, your ladies nowhere to be found at your behest to give you both privacy to what would’ve been a remarkable night of reunion between you and your husband.

“Naoya,” you whimpered his name under your breath, uncaring that you shadowed the hallways like the soul of an anguished yokai. He was all you wanted to seek for, wanting to beseech him to reconsider his words. You were pregnant; you held the key that would make this marriage flourish and foster. He could not discard you now, not when you were willing to give him what he had been pursuing from you since the first day you were both bound together before heaven and earth.

He could no longer repudiate his duty to you as your husband and master when you had already fulfilled yours.

“Naoya,” you cried out for him in a hushed and broken whimper. “Naoya!”

Rounding a corner, you were struck by a sight that almost had you falling to your knees. At the end of the hallway, cast under the weak moon’s rays were your husband and his mistress. Her hands were wrapped around his to press them to the swell of her belly. Though his expression was unreadable, you noted how those same palms that once held you with tenderness and affection were gently skimming the domed curvature of his mistress’ swollen stomach.

Pressing your palm to a nearby wall before you could crumble to the ground, you could only watch with streaming eyes as the man who once vowed to protect you in front of the gods abandoned his promises and chose another woman. A sob escaped your trembling lips and you forced your feet to backtrack, limping back to your chambers like a spurred specter.

Once in your own walls, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Every inch of the soft surface of your mattress reminded you of the mold of his arms and the taste of his kisses, a stark reminder that you no longer held the privilege of being the sole owner of his affection. It was your hubris that cast you to the dawning comprehension that perhaps, you were never even a contender for his heart in the first place.

Ira was the one whom he loved. She was the one to who he gave himself fully to first. She was the light of his soul and you… you were but a burden that he could never unload. You were the fetters around his ankles towards the woman he truly adored and this was his last pitch at finally freeing himself from your grasp.

You found yourself in front of a familiar door, and once it opened, you fell forward in a blur of tears and muffled wails. He caught you, murmuring in a voice thick with sleep that you were cold to the touch. Maybe you were no longer made of flesh and bones and you had turned into a disconsolate spirit of the night. Dark blue eyes swam in your vision and you buried a sob in his chest, uncaring that he was not the husband you were sworn to for your whole life.

“What is it?” the tenderness in his tone reminded you of another man, and you cried harder.

How you had managed to get those words out without cracking at the seams was a miraculous feat. “He wants to divorce me.”

Toji’s arms tightened around you and a soft curse slipped past his hardened countenance.

“Do you want me to speak to him?”

You were shaking your head before he could conclude his words. “What did I do?” you searched in your memories for a morsel of blame to pin onto yourself. “What did I do?”

Toji could not seek out the answer to your grief-stricken ramblings.

That night, in another man’s arms, you mourned the ending of a marriage that had not been given the chance to bloom before it was cruelly ripped from the roots; cursing the gods for even daring to bless this mismatch in heaven that was your love for Naoya Zen’in.

Word had not yet swarmed the estate with the impending news of your divorce.

In fact, there were no mutterings of your separation from Naoya, and beyond the words he uttered that night when he entered your chambers, it seemed as if you had hallucinated the whole ordeal. You still sighted slivers of him on the estate grounds, but beyond flickered gazes and strained expressions, there was no further indication of him wanting to secure the ending to this marriage.

At first, you were hopeful that he would change his mind, pining and anticipating that he would call upon you or make an unplanned visit to your chambers. Where once you would find irritation in his summons, you were now keeping a lookout for a shred of hope that your husband had not completely strayed from you. But, he did no such thing.

You would not demean yourself anymore to beg at Naoya’s feet to reconsider the divorce, and though the very thought of being separated from him caused you immeasurable pain, it was with saddened realization that a part of you had anticipated this would happen. Barely entertaining the thoughts that his mind could be changed if you were to tell him the truth of your pregnancy, you preferred to bottle up your emotions and repress the clawing sadness that sank like metal weights in your chest, keeping up your indifferent dignity.

While your ladies were kind enough to not point out the cracks in your countenance and the dulled mien you sported these days, there was another person who could not bear the heaviness of your clandestine frowns or the dark circles under your eyes. He marched towards the man who had caused you immense suffering while the latter was engrossed in his training, gripping the back of his kimono and shaking him as if he were an errant little boy.

“Toji-kun–!”

A fist landed in his stomach, right above his sternum and Toji did not stop there. He struck his cousin in the face, finishing off with a rounding kick to his oblique, leaving the injured man sprawled on the ground.

Those sharp eyes flashed towards him in indignant fear as he croaked out, “What the–”

“Do not speak, Naoya,” Toji growled. “You absolute filthy scum.”

Naoya struggled to his hands and knees, but he was deterred by Toji’s swift kick to his chest, leaving the other man gasping and choking on his back, tears beading in the corner of his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath.

“You should know that I have never, ever, ever been this disappointed in you.” The cold abhorrence in his tone told Naoya with enough conviction that this was all about you.

With watery eyes, he wheezed, “This is not what it seems–”

“Quiet!” Toji snapped and he was lucky they were away from the prying eyes of the estate where no one could report on his misdemeanor towards the young master. The sight of his cousin filled him with disgust and he leaned down on his haunches, dark blue eyes boring into glassy hazel ones. “Your wife is one of the kindest, gentlest creatures of this fief and you have no business in casting her aside as if she were some common whore, cousin.”

At his reprimand, Naoya grew silent, no longer struggling for breath but holding it between his sore lungs.

“I’ve told you before that many men would be in a position of honor to have her, so why are you–” Toji spat out that word as if he could cleanse his tongue off Naoya’s distasteful action. “–so goddamn ungrateful for these blessings that you do not deserve?”

For the first time in his life, the glib and silver-tongued Naoya had nothing to say.

His silence stretched on and Toji granted him one last look of disgust before standing up and leaving the distressed man alone.

Unbeknownst to him, his words pierced through the armor that Naoya had strapped around his tender heart, and like the pathetic critter that Toji viewed him as, all he could do was press his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose to staunch the hot tears from falling.

The envoy arrived with good news.

Since the battle with the Kamos, the Zen’ins had grown over-confident with their victory and did not bar the carriages from entering despite the natural hesitance of allowing an enemy to encroach their hearth. Coaches painted with the Kamo colors stood out like emblems of this tenuous peace and you surveyed them with mild disinterest. The man at the forefront disembarked and the moment you saw his face, you recalled Choso’s letter.

A deep laceration stretched across his right cheek and he dipped his head low when he met your eyes, violating protocol by not giving the host of the estate veneration first. Unfazed by his slip, the man turned to Naobito and bowed before repeating the same motion with his son.

“Master and Young Master Zen’in.” He had a reedy voice like he had spent his whole life sucking on tobacco sticks. “Lady Zen’in. My name is Kamo Eso and as Noritoshi’s envoy, I am here to extend a personal invitation to his wedding.”

Wedding? You hid your astonishment well, charting the letter leaving the stout man’s pudgy hand into your father-in-law’s scarred ones. Naobito scoffed and turned his scorching gaze to the unassuming Kamo herald.

“What makes you think we would want to attend his wedding?”

Eso bowed and as though he had practiced this, he muttered swiftly, “Noritsohi-san had no hand in the Kamo uprising in Takayama and he is working side by side with me to uncover who was the head dissident in this senseless lapse of amicability.” Straightening, he fixed the Zen’in family with a simpering smile. “Noritoshi-san wants to make amends and invite his new family to this joyous occasion as he creates everlasting ties with the Gojou clan–a clan that would pose many benefits for your clan on the virtue of your familial connection through Lady Zen’in.”

Though Naobito was a hardened man, he could not deny that this bit of news intrigued him.

For years, he had been trying to get the Gojou clan on his side to obtain a sliver of control over the farming of freshwater pearls which the white-haired house was well known for. An alliance with the Gojous would guarantee a potential foot in the door towards the influx of liquidity that came from their highly sought-after maritime trade.

It was too bad the young Gojou heir presumptive did not relinquish his half-sister to be married to his son, and in lieu of their rejection, Naobito had to scrounge after the Kamos as another alternative.

Naobito swore that he could not freely show his face for months after that humiliating ordeal. Said son was impassive and faraway, probably inwardly lamenting on his melancholy rather than paying attention to this next resort that would bolster the Zen’in’s riches. Inhaling deeply, Naobito discarded his attention off his unavailing son and regarded Kamo Eso with a thin smile.

“Very well. We shall celebrate this joyous occasion together with all of you.”

Eso bowed once more and his bright smile could’ve fooled everyone with how delighted he was at the prospect of spending a night under the Zen’in rule. As he was ushered past Naobito and Naoya, you graciously offered to see him in his room. The moment the prying eyes of the Zen’ins receded in the distance and you were safe within the walls, you slipped him your response, one that you had spent hours perfecting even if it was merely one sentence long.

Those words flashed in your mind as you showed him to the guest chambers and reciprocated his low bow with a bob of your head.

Take me back home.

That night, to extend their courtesy to the Kamo envoy, Naobito ordered a grand feast, the likes of which the estate had never encountered. Every servant was required to vigorously contribute to the extensive workload. Chickens were butchered and fed to steaming pots while their blood was still warm; the persistent aroma of dishes being whipped up along with frantic cleaning sprees dotted the estate with lively activity, providing a welcoming distraction from the nerves of what would happen tonight.

You were far from informed as to what would transpire after you passed the letter to Eso; bearing in mind the uncertainty of tonight’s outcome, you informed your ladies to be on standby should the plan commence after dinner.

For tonight, as the lady of the house, you were required to walk in with your husband and start the celebrations by offering blessings of peace and hospitality to the guests. You dreaded arriving beside Naoya, unsure of what would transpire should you both be forced to spend a night together against your wills.

Through it all, your little adzuki beans remained on their best behavior and the morning sickness that marred your day with bouts of nausea seemed to simmer to a tolerable level. Misa found you ruminating alone in your chambers, hand on your growing belly and staring out the window. You heard her enter but did not turn to greet her, stuck in uneasiness as to what complications would materialize from Eso’s visit to the estate.

“Lady Zen’in, it’s time to get ready for the celebration,” Misa’s gentle voice jolted you back to the present. In another breath, she rummaged through a mahogany chest for your boxes of kimonos and said, “Shall I prepare the dark blue rinzu piece for tonight?”

A sudden bolt of brilliance came upon you and you shook your head, getting to your feet. Though you were just in your first season, your body was softening with the first stirrings of motherhood, and you wanted to preserve this secret for as long as you could manage. A thicker and luxurious fabric was needed and you gave her a knowing smile.

“No, not the dark blue one,” you contemplated. “Bring out the special occasion one.”

Misa stilled her scouring for the tonyas and eyed you with open incredulity. “Y/N, that’s–“

“Perfect for tonight,” you finished for her. Awe and fear mingled to form a potent expression of dilemma on her sweet features.

“Are you sure?”

You didn’t leave her any room for doubt or for you to back out of this resolution. Your mind was made up.

“Yes,” you decided firmly. “I am absolutely sure.”

Naoya would never consider himself one for parties.

Though he enjoyed mingling with a different sort of entertainment, one that was more intimate in nature prior to his marriage, gatherings such as these did little to assuage his boredom. He had grown up on the laps of his wet nurses in between discussions of strategy and imminent violence disguised as tasteful festivities that this was nothing but just another obligation for him.

Inwardly sighing, he thought that it would be another obligation towards you, too. He held no illusions that Kamo Eso’s presence here was spurred on by the debacle in Takayama that had caused his left arm’s mobility for almost a week. But that was not what had enraged him; he detested the look in that Kamo man’s gaze when he raked those despicable bulging eyes up and down your body.

Naoya had never ached to end a man’s life as he did at that moment. But, you were gracious and oblivious, slipping into your dignified persona as a woman of the house and bringing him to his chambers. The young man had wanted to trail after the both of you, to ward off any advances towards you, but his father demanded without words that he stay resolutely by his side.

And so Naoya found himself waiting in the annex wing of the dining hall, dressed in his best yukata that was the midnight blue of his family crest. A part of him wondered what you would don and he yearned to lay his eyes on the tact and care you placed in your constructed pieces. From behind him, Naobito appeared, forcing him to knock those thoughts from his head and focus on the night. His father took the lead as the Zen’in representative and made his way into the halls first.

A messenger appeared by his side to inform him that you were running late and that you had encouraged him to make his appearance without you. Naoya took your tardiness in stride and entered the dining hall, a respectable hush befalling the chatter as deserving of the next daimyo-to-be. He took his seat with Naobito on the dais, casting his languid gaze to the occupants of the chambers with barely any interest. Eso was seated to Naobito’s left, happily chatting away with one of the right-hand Hei samurai. His cousin and nephew were nowhere to be seen, no invitations extended to them as they were considered the lowest rung of the Zen’ins.

Tonight, it was all about the politics of the fief and the Zen’ins had to exhibit strength in quality, not quantity.

Pushing the cup of sake away to keep his wits about him, Naoya noticed a stirring at the entrance of the halls. He was about to comment on what was transpiring when the doors opened and a wonderstruck hush fell over every soul in this room.

There, standing with your head held high and hands clasped primly in front of you, you were resplendent in a verdant green houmongi kimono, your hair done up with wildflowers as stray wisps kissed your temples and cheeks. The color brought out the plush pigment on your lips and the hue of your cheeks, the golden embroidery juxtaposing the humble green of your family’s colors. Striding down the hallway, you held an air of regal indifference while whispers behind open palms spread across the room in rustling murmurs.

“Lady Zen’in is wearing the Kamo colors!”

“What does this mean?”

“Is she pledging allegiance to her own house?”

“Surely not! She must be appealing to the envoys.”

“She would not dare to disrespect her husband this way.”

Bowing low to your father-in-law and to Kamo Eso, you took your place next to Naoya and he realized a second too late that his mouth was parted. Setting your hands on your lap, you made no move to converse with him, preferring to remain demurely effervescent and neutral in the eye of every important man in the fief.

He could feel them all staring at this beauty beside him, drinking in the sight of her beguiling curves underneath the layers of silk and embroidery. Jealousy unlike the stabbing of a knife plunged deep in his chest and he furrowed his brow, torn between wanting to chastise you and lay waste to that clinging silk which kept your body a prisoner from his wandering hands and stirring cock.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in close enough to smell the roses from your hair.

Nodding to show that you acknowledged him, you did not return his affections and was brought into conversation with another member of the envoy, leaving him barren of your attention. Naoya felt like a little boy who was being intentionally iced out, and he could not fathom why in the world you had decided to show up in the Kamo colors on this day of all days.

He tried to take your hand underneath the table but you evaded his touch. He had brushed his knee against yours and all you had done was subtly shift your chair away, as if the very thought of accidentally touching him was detestable to you. He supposed he could not blame you for your indifference; he was the one who had requested for a divorce in the first place.

But when he heard your tittering laughter and how you reached out to graze your fingers on the Kamo ambassador’s arm, he could barely restrain the low growl that slipped from his mouth. Thankfully, Naobito thought this would be the best time for a speech and stood up, prattling on about the importance of familial relations to set the tone for his son to continue in his own speech. He then indicated that it was Naoya’s turn who got to his feet as his father sat down. As his wife, you followed suit, your job being to bend your head down and appear subservient as your husband addressed the people who would be under his rule one day.

“It is with great honor that I welcome the Kamo envoys into Zen’in lands today,” he started in a mellow but rich tone. “Though centuries of strife and bloodshed have marked our relations and strained it, this was all put to an end when I had the greatest blessing and privilege to take a Kamo daughter to be my wife.” A coo of admiration flitted across the halls when he addressed you. The fondness leaked from his tone to touch his eyes when he regarded you. “Though we have yet to be blessed with a child, I have no doubt that when that celebrated day happens, we can look forward to many more years of peace between all of us.”

It was a good speech and the applause rebounding across the walls told you as much. You did not ruminate on his words and preferred to dip your head lower, a modest consensus to talks of peace and babies that your husband spouted.

With his ending address, dinner began and it was a hearty chicken soup that you had no appetite to touch.

“Is the soup not to your liking, wife?” he asked and you brushed off his concern with a strained smile.

“I am fine, husband,” you uttered quietly and picked at your meal.

“Are you craving for anything?” he asked, unintentionally in tune with your body’s hunger for something that was not currently being offered in this spread.

In a soft voice, you said, “I… am wanting candied apples.”

He apparently didn’t find anything amiss and gestured for a servant to approach him. “Please get Lady Zen’in some candied apples and make it quick,” Naoya said sternly, causing the young boy to nod vigorously and rush off to the kitchens.

“You need not have intimidated him that way,” you mumbled and he earnestly tried to meet your gaze, but you were resolutely staring at the wooden patterns of the table.

“I wanted to make sure you were well provided for.”

Your answering question severed the illusion that you were still his. “But… why?”

Before he could answer you, a plate of candied apples, red skin glossy from the hardened sugar was served to you as if the kitchen had anticipated your requests. Taking one bite of the crunchy yet plump flesh of the fruit, you savored it with a small smile.

“Is it to your liking?” Naoya asked, and if you had an untrained ear, you would not have detected a hint of nerves in his tone. But, you nodded and finished two more slices as the conversation strayed along into political matters. Your husband’s attention was taken up by a discussion with his father and Kamo Eso, leaving you alone with your dangerous thoughts.

In the corner of the room, you found Ira seated at a table filled with the Zen’in cousins, those who were of a second rank but no less important to the clan’s ecosystem. They consisted of the sons and daughters of the Elites and her presence among them solidified the gravity of her title as Naoya’s mistress. She was radiant and eating heartily, not a worry lining her features while you were saddled with the heavy burden of the secret you carried.

Heart constricting with sorrow, you found that despite you sitting beside this man you once thought you could love, it seemed that no matter what you did, you would be haunted by the thought of his infidelity. You could never measure up to the effectiveness of his mistress in getting pregnant first and you would never be the wife he proudly sought after, always the second option and never the priority.

It was becoming increasingly clear that there was nothing you could’ve done to salvage this marriage. In that instant, you saw clearly how this would be your life if you should choose to continue on in this loveless affair. The future stretched out like a bleak narration to a story; one whose ending you already had an inkling to.

You would spend your life always being second best to a woman who held your husband’s affections in everything but his name. Even if she were seated at the bottom of the rung and you were elevated to his side, you knew that there was an emotional class divide that you could never pervade.

It was with those thoughts that you stood up, ready to make your final decision. Naoya noticed your swift movement and broke off from his discussion with Naobito who also registered the impassivity in your countenance.

“Are you not feeling well, daughter?” he inquired in a phony show of concern as if he wasn’t the same man who wanted to humiliate his in-law in front of his own court. Till this day, that memory still haunted you with the inhumane reality that you were not safe even under your own roof.

Bowing your head down, you spoke softly enough so that the two men could hear.

“I have been thinking about your request to reconsider this marriage, Naoya-sama, and I came to a conclusion.” You intoned your next words with utter resolution. “I readily agree to your request for a divorce.”

The reaction on the elevated dais was instant, your voice unintentionally reaching across to the rest of the guests in the vicinity.

For a second, no one spoke, their disbelieving gazes locked upon you. But, you continued on, noting the ashen countenance of your husband who had paled as if he had seen his worst nightmares coming into fruition. His reaction made no sense to you and you reminded him of it with your next utterance.

“Since you requested for this divorce first, let me be the one to finalize it.” Though your heart was trembling in your chest, you soldiered on, needing to get this last point across. “…On one condition.”

Naobito’s grizzled expression darkened, but he did not refuse your plight. “What is it, daughter?”

Palms cushioning under the light swell of your belly, you spoke directly to Naoya, regarding him with an expression devoid of warmth.

You forced yourself to discard the foolish dreams of a naïve little girl; dreams that a prince would sweep her off her feet and bring her to a happily ever after.

In this story of a laughable marriage, princes had handsome faces but hearts made of blackened coal; they cheated and lied and tore a princess’ heart into pieces and you would no longer allow it–not for another second more. If Naoya could not find it in himself to be the husband you needed, he did not deserve the right to be a father.

“The babies that I am carrying in my womb–“ Surprised gasps greeted that revelation. You almost felt bad for your husband when his eyes lit up with wonder and hope.

A hope that you swiftly shattered with your next words.

“The two babies that I am carrying in my womb will discard the Zen’in name in favor of mine.”

The silence you left in the wake of the declaration was more suited to a funeral rather than a celebration of prosperity and fealty between the two warring fiefs.

Eso hid his shock behind his sake cup, Naobito had thunderclouds in his dark eyes, and your husband… your husband looked like he was thinly tethered to consciousness, woolly-headed from your words. Barely giving them time to absorb the implications of your stance, you swiftly sauntered down the dais, your feet taking you out of the halls. The tables closer to the doors had no inkling as to the blow that you had dealt with the upper echelons and therefore did not blink twice when you breezed past them, the silk hem of your kimono creating rushes in your wake.

No one moved to stop you and you leveraged on their momentary stupor to make your way down a familiar route, finding yourself once more in front of Toji Zen’in’s door. This time, he anticipated you, and the door was unlocked, latched once more when you entered his domain, and sank to the floor.

“Y/N?”

Gentle hands propped you upright and like a madwoman, you exhaled out a giggle. “I did it, Toji-san,” you whispered. The emotions waged conflict in you; half of you wanted to dissolve into tears and the other half was drunkenly joyous at saying your piece and giving your husband and father-in-law a taste of their own medicine.

For tonight, you would be released from their clutches and you would be going back home to raise your two adzuki beans. You were finally free.

“I told him I wanted a divorce and that I would be raising my babies as Kamos.”

Toji stiffened, and his unexpected reaction caused you to pause in your tirade.

“Y/N, you will be leaving the estate, will you not?” he urged, “You have to leave soon. Once they catch wind of what you are planning–“

A loud knock rebounded in this room and the both of you froze. Toji drew his knife and walked to the door, bracing himself to meet a Hei or even your enraged husband, not a panicked Misa rushing in with shaky hands and tousled hair. “Y/N, we have to go,” she pursued towards you and ripped off your kimono, leaving you with a simple, unlined shift underneath the extravagant silk that was your disguise as a commoner. “Kamo Eso has rounded us all up and we are to leave now.”

“Now?” you mouthed.

Misa did not give you leave to ruminate on her words and glanced at Toji-san. “Can you cover us as we use the servants' tunnels?”

Toji did not hesitate to agree, complicit in this escape. Without wasting time, they bundled you close to their side and Misa led you down an unfamiliar path of the estate. Your mind was whirling and you could not make out heads or tails where they were bringing you, the snatches of light from the gas lamp in her hand barely giving you the full picture towards the final destination where you were to depart from this estate.

A sliver of light illuminated the southern wall, the ones closest to the dense foliage, and Misa guided you to a cart where a tarp laid–this setup familiar for transporting animals, not women of highborn status. You willingly slipped under the covers, stunned to find Rina, Akane, Aiko and Sayuri there with you. The ripe scent of animal dung lingered like the stench of a dead body and your eyes watered. Before you could even comprehend what was to transpire next, the cart started moving and Misa slid in next to you at the very last second.

“Toji-san has given word that you were sighted at the northern side of the estate to buy us some time,” Misa stated and your heart swelled to twice its size at the kindness this particular Zen’in man exuded. The darkness twisted around each of you and for the longest time, no one dared to breathe. Your ladies huddled around you, providing you warmth as you absent-mindedly stroked your belly, inundated with the thoughts of this treachery you had just committed.

There would be no doubt you would be branded as a deserter wife. Your husband and his family would not spare one more second to chase you until you were once more in their clutches now that they were aware you were carrying not one, but two Zen’in heirs. Tightening your grip around Akane who was whimpering in fear, you closed your eyes, praying that the gods who discarded you the same way your husband once did would spare their anger against you.

Putting your life in Kamo Eso’s hands was all you could hope for, and you beseeched the deities above that he would deliver you, your ladies, and your two babies back to your brother safely.

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