#other than i wanted to draw luci bathed in light

[sheepandpencils]

I just think they're neat.

[dangopango00]

OM Appearance Hcs So I Can Draw Them Sometime

A/N: I was playing n then i realized they dont have much variation bc that levi line thats like “Asmo and I are brothers so why does he get all the good genes!?” So making hcs bc i kinda wanna draw them, at least headshots or sth

First Most to Least Objectively Attractive

1. Lucifer/Asmo: Tbh i couldn’t pick because imo Lucifer is most handsome but Asmo is most overall good looking; hes probably a pretty boy

2. Mammon: It was hard figuring out how to rank him but since he’s a model I think he must take pretty good care of himself + Not quite a pretty boy and i think he’s a model for a different reason than Asmo (I think he’s more uniquely attractive rather than extremely objectively attractive)

3. Satan: Idk it just feels right for Mr Perfect like hes not the hottest guy ever but he takes care of himself pretty well if asmo hasnt already done it for him + since hes a unicorn i have a hugeeee hc that hes a pretty boy who doesn’t want to be perceived as pretty n had long hair when he spawned

4. Beel: No proof other than him nearly winning that popularity contest in NB despite doing nothing + he works out. Though tbh I don’t think his face is anything crazy, like he’s cute, well taken care of and nothing to scoff at (since diet and exercise r a big chunk of skin/body health) but I don’t think he’s insanely head-turning like Asmo

5. Belphie: He’s more like a cutie. Like he can be hot but usually he has his kewt face on + he has poor sleeping habits

6. Levi: Im so sorry bbg but 😭😭 He doesnt take care of his skin or sleep on time. Hes still hot but comparatively hes dead last

Distinguishing Features Hcs UTC

Lucifer:

- Smooth thin hair

- Ya’ll hear me out… a couple grey strands JUST A FEWWWWWW it alr looks like his hair lighting thing cmon

- Thin eyebrows with a bit of an arch

- SHARP GUY sharp jawline, sharp eyes

- Eyes are like small and straight not really turned up or down

- Eyebags (He doesn’t get dark circles but he does get bags)

- Very long angular features like long hooked nose long angular face shape (I like him having a hooked nose bc i feel like he looks a bittt unique and he takes pride in those unique features. Doesn’t gaf)

- Like a poodle. Very well taken care of; prim and proper in the public eye

Mammon:

- Thick fluffy hair; keeps it soft for MC

- Eyebrows aren’t too thick but def not thin; gets them done from time to time with Asmo and/or MC; straight with no arch

- Eyes aren’t that big or small just like medium size and a bit downturned (pretty slightly)

- Also has a hooked nose ☹️☹️☹️ seeing lucifer so proud about it made him proud about it too ieueeuueueuew I HATE THESE MFS I CANTTT

- Angular face but has a softer charm to it idk. Like his chin is pretty similar but his cheeks protrude a bit more; cuter

- Really good skin naturally + he takes care of it; softer than you would think

- Really similar to Lucifer imo (ik they’re basically adopted siblings but I feel like some brothers look really alike and mammon and luci are examples of that 😭😭 feel like lucifer sees himself in mammon sometimes)

- Unrelated but like. I feel like he used to have freckles as a real young angel 😭

Levi:

- Thick tangly hair (he should brush it more tbh) (correction* YOU should brush it more) its soft though

- Thick rounded eyebrows; not super crazy but thick with a small arch— gets them waxed/plucked/wtv when he’s gonna cosplay with them showing bye

- Eyes are small and slightly upturned; cat (specifically thinking of that one card where he didn’t wanna go to school gn)

- Eyebags on good days and dark circles usually; sometimes both

- Long straight features, he wasn’t a giraffe that one time for nothing..! Long straight nose, Long face with barely any curves/angles very pretty boy

- Thin features too like thin long fingers and a slim face

- Good skin naturally + he bathes often but doesn’t really do skincare or anything so he has some blemishes

- Gremlin

Satan:

- Ik how crusty it looks in game but LISTEN HIS HAIR IS SOFT, smooth and a bit thick; slightly wavy idgafff

- His color scheme is really soft to me like maybe a slight edge with his bright green eyes but imo his hair should be lighter likeeeee 🦄🦄 idk i just love the idea that despite being the only one who was never an angel, Satan looks the most angelic he’s so fun to mould

- Pretty thin eyebrows but not super thin; arched

- Eyes are small and pretty much straight with a slight upturn

- Doesn’t have eyebags or anything; prioritizes his health

- Soft slender features with sudden edges, similar to his personality like he has an angular jaw but his overall face is pretty slender and soft in certain areas; has a greek nose

- Similar to Lucifer as well but softer (debatably softer than mammon too)

- Kept breaking out in acne or hives or sth when he first spawned 😭😭😭 stopped after like a week or sth but his brothers still make fun of him (he has sensitive skin)

Asmo:

- SOFT SMOOTH HAIR Not super thin or thick smack dab in the middle

- Strawberry blonde and 😭😭😭 thats so special to meee because it reminds me of how he and satan are more alike than satan would think; Want to be loved and often misunderstood— also has a soft color scheme like satan but his is done in a sharper way

- Really well groomed thin rounded eyebrows with a slight arch

- Slightly larger than medium eyes like almond ish

- The BEST skin, he takes care of himself so well and it pays off! He is GLOWINGGG

- Another pretty boy with a slender face but strangely enough he has a handsome charm about it; really nice jawline and straight nose

- Imo he’s like aphrodite but like for any and everyone like he’s both handsome and pretty

- Has moles but not where he wants them 😭😭😭 wants the sexy lip mole and draws it on sometimes

Beel:

- Thick fluffy hair with a slight curl to it. Like extremely slight

- Thick eyebrows with no arch or a very slight one

- Eyes are medium sized with a slight upturn

- Eyes are a bit brighter than belphie’s

- Okay skin; doesn’t do skincare but diet + exercise makes up for it and doesn’t really have blemishes or eyebags or wtv

- Has freckles HE DESERVES IT 💔💔

- Not quite angular but like wide; manly face and straight nose

- To be honest I don’t have much to say bc imo when it comes to his face he’s kinda just some basic attractive guy 😭

Belphie:

- Soft thick hair that WOULD BE tangly like levi but he gets others to brush for him gn

- Thick eyebrows with no/slight arch

- Eyes are medium n slightly downturned but his resting face they look ig siren ish n when he widens them they almost look doe

- Eyebags from sleeping too damn much but at least it makes his skin look youthful af

- Not very angular face with slightly chubby cheeks and straight nose

- There’s no reason for his color scheme to be softer but like BUT LIKE LOOOOOK 😭😭😭 he would be so cute it’d add to his dreamy temptation aesthetic

LIKE (https://www.tumblr.com/dangopango00/749877229405732864/belpheeeeeee)

- HES LIKE MESSY IN THE CUTEST WAY like hes not prim n proper but hes messy in that way you can’t help but wanna clean him up and pat him on the head

- Very similar to Beel like these mfs been linked since birth 😮‍💨

[fics-n-stuff-n-stuff]

Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia -

all fairy tail characters-

Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic

Follows Fairy tail but with my own twists set in modern day

Fluff and Angst

developing feelings

Lucy has new spirits I checked constellations and gave her ones I thought were cool

Summary

Lucy is thrown into a world she didn’t know existed. Join her as she unravels this new world full of magic that brings adventure, romance and destruction along with it.

———

Just a modern re-telling of Fairy tail following its arcs with a few twists and turns along the way💞

Language: English Words: 3,227

You can also read it here- https://archiveofourown.org/works/49084309

“Fuck”

Lucy was not having a good day, or a good week, or a good year for that matter.

Since running away from home a little over a year ago, and having to financially fend for herself for the first time in 20 years it was a challenge in the beginning for someone as sheltered as she is, and did not come without great challenges.

But it is something Lucy has gotten used to and has actually come to enjoy some odd jobs and trades she's had to learn to get by.

At least to a certain degree.

But with her arrival in Hargeon today, and having spent half of her day trying to find a job, and the other half trying to find somewhere to live. Having no luck with either was a tad discouraging and left Lucy to wonder if her plan to move every few months was actually a smart idea, or if she was just being paranoid.

I mean, she's heard no word from her father or anything about her disappearance. So it's only natural to think he isn't looking.

Then again, it's better safe than sorry, so moving every time she starts feeling like she's suffocating or bored was the conclusion.

She had left Morgate Town fairly easily, it wasn't like she had any friends in the place, and her job as a waitress had her underpaid and overworked, so she was happy to leave.

Now if only she had had the foresight to at least look for some jobs or housing in this area, but no, she decided to treat it like an adventure.

She scoffs now at the thought, right adventure is what she had been looking for when she ran away. Freedom to do whatever she wanted.

Boy, has the real world slapped her in the face.

Her lack of foresight and naivety for adventure is why she was currently walking down the dark streets of Hargeon, following her phone GPS to the inn with the most positive ratings, that wasn't too pricey.

She had found it online earlier when she had stopped to get something to eat and decided to book a room.

Turning the corner of a street, she noticed that everything was suddenly eerily quiet.

People were walking around just a minute ago, looking around she didn't notice anything particularly out of the ordinary, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched.

Picking up her pace slightly, she continued down the street, wishing the inn were closer, so she could just draw a bath and try to figure out her game plan for tomorrow.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, something slammed into her from the side, sending her flying into an alleyway between two buildings.

With a grunt, Lucy landed on the hard ground, slightly disoriented and wondering what sent her flying, looking up, she saw a figure covered by a black cloak standing at the entrance of the alley.

"What the hell is your problem?" Lucy asked, trying to sound confident as she stood up on shaky legs.

They started walking towards her, not answering her question, but she did hear hissing sounds and weird clicking noises coming from under the hood.

Not wanting to figure out what the hell this person's deal is, Lucy looked to the other end of the alley, only to see that it goes one way and is blocked by a wall connecting the buildings.

Dead end.

With a curse under her breath, Lucy looked back at the cloaked figure and tried to sidestep and escape, only to be grabbed by the back of her hair and violently slammed her into the brick wall.

Lucy let out a harsh scream as her body made an impact, and looking at her attacker she finally noticed that it wasn't a person at all that was attacking her because under the black cloak was a figure straight out of a nightmare, a soulless face, with dark gray skin and no apparent eyes started back at her.

Lucy only screamed louder, the creature tightened the hold it had on her and started mumbling words that Lucy could barely make out.

"We could feel your magic, yes, yes, so sweet it smells, a good feast we have found, good, good." It sounded like it was talking to itself.

Not being one to give up, Lucy kept struggling in its hold and kept screaming for help, hoping someone would hear her.

"No, no, no escape. Keep still."

It sounded harsher, and with those words, Lucy was slammed into the wall once more, she heard a crack and could feel blood trickling down the back of her head. That stopped her protest as she felt the pain come in full swing.

The creature above her was drawing closer, its mouth open and sharp teeth on display, gods, is this how she dies? In a dirty alleyway, with no one to miss her, no one to even know she was dead?

'Please don't let me die like this, not like this' Lucy thought to herself as the creature finally started to feed on her, it felt like her very soul was getting sucked out.

She was fading fast and thinking, this time, of her mother, and how she will finally be able to see her again, at the very least.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Lucy felt the air around her start to increase in temperature, making sweat build up on Lucy's temple she felt a blast of heat and warmth around her and suddenly the creature was thrown off of her with an unearthly shriek.

There were more heat blasts, it looked like fire shooting out of somewhere. She wasn't even sure anymore as black spots started to appear in front of her. 

Sliding down the wall, she heard another shriek and after a few beats of silence Lucy was suddenly wrapped in warmth, she didn't even realize she was freezing.

"Crap, he got you good, don't worry you're safe now. I'll take you back to Fairy Tail and-"

The person who had her in their arms was talking, but Lucy was losing consciousness, fast, and could not focus for the life of her. The last thing she saw was pink before passing out.

* ********* ********** ********** ********* *

Waking up disoriented and with a pounding head, when you're 100% sure you didn't drink the night before is not fun by any means.

This is how Lucy finds herself waking up, in a brightly lit room, with her head feeling like someone is trying to escape from inside it.

She sat up with a groan, blinking away the way the light hurt her eyes, and finally able to look around, the room she is in appears to be an infirmary of some kind, but how did she get there? Why is she here?

Suddenly she remembered the attack, a creature of some sort, sucking out her soul, and then fire and warmth, someone fighting the creature and rescuing her before everything went black.

No, that can't be right, there must be a logical explanation for what she saw. She just needs to get up and see where she is, and get some answers.

Going through the infirmary door she sees that she is on the second floor of what appears to be a tavern.

The ground floor was full of people who were laughing, drinking, and playing games.

Some even appear to be fighting.

'What an odd place' Lucy thinks to herself as she descends the stairs, looking around at everyone she suddenly notices that these are no regular people.

She sees what looks like elf ears and wings on some people, and bursts of energy or other strange-looking things from others.

"I must still be dreaming, yes that's it, this is all just a lucid dream." Lucy mutters to herself as she makes her way through the middle of the crowd and to the bar, where she sees a beautiful white-haired girl tending to it.

As Lucy sits down on an empty chair the girl looks up at her with a bright smile "Hello, my name is Mirajane, how are you feeling? You were in quite the rough shape when Natsu brought you in last night."

The girl, Mirajane, puts a plate of fries and some chicken wings on the bar, as well as a glass of water "Here, I'm sure you're hungry, and you need to replenish the energy that was stolen from you."

Lucy smiled at Mirajane, looking down at the food, it smelled amazing and she suddenly felt and heard her stomach growl which is what made Lucy think, maybe she wasn't in a dream after all.

Looking back at Mirajane, Lucy smiled, she could feel it was slightly strained because of the uncertainty of her surroundings, but she tried her best to hide it.

"My name is Lucy, thank you for the food Mirajane, I didn't realize I was so hungry. I am sorry, but I have to ask you, do you know what happened to me? I, I'm not sure what I saw last night, you see I was attacked but I'm not, well, I" Lucy trailed off struggling to find the words to describe the creature that attacked her, fearing she might sound completely insane if she did.

"Yes, dreadful creatures, Lethifolds. They feed off of energy, usually fear. But they are known to attack and take a person's life energy and magical energy as well. You were lucky that Natsu caught the scent of one and found you when he did."

Mirajane explained with a wave of her hand as she went back to wiping the bar.

Lucy just started back at her, stunned. Lethifolds? Magical energy? She felt like she was going crazy.

"I'm sorry, did you just say magical energy?" Lucy asked but her question never got answered as she heard someone yell to watch out and she turned around only to see a chair flying towards her.

Lucy only really had time to close her eyes and try to duck as best she can to try and minimize the damage.

But the blow never came, she only felt warmth at her side and slowly, Lucy opened her eyes to see the chair had been stopped by someone barely 20cm from her face.

"Jeez, you guys gotta be more careful or somethin'." the person that stopped the chair said, throwing it suddenly back, hitting a big guy with white hair. Making him fall back and topple several people along with him.

"That's rich coming from you flame brain"

Another voice chimed in from across the room making the pink-haired man next to Lucy bristle.

"What'dya say ya stripper freak?" He growled back at the man who taunted him.

'Huh, pink hair suits him ' Lucy thinks to herself as she looks at the man who saved her from another possible concussion.

"Thank you, for catching the chair, I would've been a goner." she finds herself saying to the stranger, who, at the sound of her voice snaps out of his staring contest and turns to face her fully with a brilliant smile.

"No problem, glad to see ya're up and movin', I was kinda worried I didn't make it in time, but the mean healer said you'd be awake soon so I guess that's good. I'm Natsu" he rambled on, sitting next to her at the bar as he did.

Natsu.

That's who Mirajane said saved her from that Dementor-looking thing.

"Oh, you're the one who saved me." Lucy said dumbly, wincing slightly as she did.

Seriously what kind of weirdo says something like that?

Natsu just smiles wider and nods "Yeah I did! I was finishin' up a job in Hargeon when I smelt one of those bastards and knew I had to hunt it down before it caused any trouble, looks like I got there just in time, eh." He winks and nudges my shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows, the smile never leaving his face.

Lucy smiles back at him, letting out a slight laugh. This one is a little more real, something about this pink-haired man made her feel warm, made her feel safe.

That is a foreign feeling to one Lucy Heartfilia.

So she lets herself relax if only a little.

"Well thank you, you saved my life. I'm not even sure what happened but I don't think I would've made it if you hadn't shown up. I don't know how to make it up to you."

His expression suddenly turns serious as he turns to fully look at her, from her shoes to the top of her head.

Now Lucy has had many men, young and old, look at her up and down before, and most of them made her skin crawl.

The way Natsu was looking at her was more inquisitive than anything like he was trying to figure something out. He stopped his inspection and looked her in the eyes.

"The creature that attacked you feeds off of energy, positiv', negativ', it doesn't matter, really. Thought this one was going for your magical energy." He says the last part with conviction and looks for her reaction.

Lucy can now say she officially has no idea what is going on, and what is real. He said the same thing that Mirajane had.

Magical. Energy.

"You have no idea, do you?" Natsu's voice broke her out of her thoughts and she looked back at him.

"You just said magical energy, as in like magic? Like Harry Potter and stuff?" Lucy asked, perplexed and not knowing what to think.

This wasn't real, no way. Lucy had always had an active imagination, so yeah that's all this is. She's probably bleeding out in the alley where she was attacked.

Natsu just smiled at her, scoffing slightly at her Harry Potter comment. "Yes magic, no not like Harry Potter. And you have it. I can smell it on you." He said sniffing the air with a shrug, as if it proves his point.

"You can smell it on me ?" Lucy asked, her voice squeaking slightly. She brought her hands to hug herself.

'Do I stink?' Lucy thought to herself, a little self-conscious about what she'd just learned.

"Yeah, I got a good nose, and even though it's repressed or something, I can tell it's there." He answered as if it explains everything.

Lucy felt a migraine start to form from everything going on, she could also feel a pressure in her chest, building.

She tried to wrap her head around magic, and did he say repressed?

"What do you mean by repressed?"

Natsu looked back at her with a shrug, as if trying to find the words.

"Like it's locked inside of you, ya know? But I can tell that it's ripping through the seams like it wants to burst out, that's the only reason that bastard could've sensed it. It's also why I brought ya here, thought maybe you'd like for us to break it for you so you can learn to use your magic." He explained casually like they were discussing current events, and Lucy finally snapped.

Standing up abruptly causing Natsu to lean back a bit from surprise she looked at him, eyes wide and she was panting slightly, breathing deepening from her increasing panic.

"Ok, hold on, stop. You can't really be saying that magic is, that magic is real? Like actually real, casting spells and flying on brooms and wicked witches casting spells?" She spat out, in an obvious panic now, at some point she had started pacing in front of Natsu, who just looked back at her, wide-eyed from her outburst.

Lucy started at him, chest heaving, waiting for a response, only for the pink-haired man to laugh at her.

Annoyed, Lucy let out a groan and hit his shoulder.

"Don't laugh at me, I think I'm having a panic attack, you should be helping, not laughing." She hit him one more time for good measure which made him stop laughing and let out a sigh of his own.

"Okay, okay. Sorry for laughin' at ya, it's just, flying on brooms, really?" Lucy couldn't help the pathetic laugh that bubbled from her throat, she didn't even know what was funny.

It was a legitimate question, she didn't know anything about this supposed magical world.

Looking back at Natsu she saw him already focused on her, with a small smile on his face.

"See, got ya to laugh. Point for me."

Before Lucy could even interject, he continued talking.

"Now, as for the magic part. Yes, to the magic is real part. No, for the flying brooms. Yes, to casting spells, although 'spells' is one term for it, there are others. And I guess yes to the wicked witches part too, but trust me, they are not like the cartoons. "

Lucy started at him, trying to wrap her head around him actually answering her questions, and taking her seriously.

"Here, let me show you my magic, it is totally the coolest in the guild!" He exclaimed, making Lucy smile a little at his enthusiasm, her smile was suddenly wiped when Natsu's right arm catches on fire.

A high-pitched squeak came from Lucy's mouth and before she's even realizing her actions her hands are on Natsu's arm, trying to put out the fire.

"Are you crazy!?? You're going to burn yourself!" She yelled patting his arm, trying to put out the fire as her panic started to kick in again.

Amid her panic, she failed to notice that the fire was not burning Natsu, nor was it burning her.

When she noticed that the flames were dying out slowly, she turned her eyes back to Natsu who was looking at her with a strange expression on his face, something akin to astonishment.

Before either could speak a voice entered their conversation.

"What's all this ruckus about, ey?" Lucy turned to her left and saw a short gray-haired man with a weird hat on top of his head sitting crossed-legged on the bar, their eyes met and he gave her an assessing look before offering a smile.

"You must be the girl Natsu saved last night, good to see you back on your feet."

Lucy smiled at the old man. "My name is Lucy. I'm sorry for disturbing you in your tavern, I was just leaving."

'Yes, I'll just leave and then hopefully this is all just a very vivid and disturbing dream and a pink-haired man did not save me from a Dementor and did not light himself on fire.'

Lucy thought, trying to back up, and out of the building when suddenly, she felt a stab of pain in her chest, making her stop in her tracks and clench her midsection.

Doubling over she felt another pierce through her, this one knocking the air out of her, Lucy felt herself falling but did not have any control over her body.

She felt a pair of warm hands catch her before she had a chance to hit the floor.

Lucy could barely make out the voices around her, everything was spinning, her chest hurt, she could feel something inside of her, something that felt like it wanted to burst.

With one last jolt of pain, a crack resonated within Lucy, and her power was unleashed.

[reallyhardy]

went through the goes-wrong-verse playbills/programmes - that is, ‘the play that goes wrong’ and ‘peter pan goes wrong’ (thank you @cornleypolytechnicgoeswrong​ !) trying to piece together each society member’s career within the society PLUS if possible whatever it was they were doing at the polytechnic (university) course-wise, along with whatever other character snippets they give. this is mostly to inform me when writing but i thought it’d be useful for other mischief/goes wrong fans!

chris bean:

as of TPTGW is the ‘newly elected’ head of the drama society, and is known at the university for his charitable & philanhropic work. he has six acting credits within the polytechnic to his name.

i was going to presume his choice of course at the uni was acting or directing, but his PPGW bio states that his ‘dacting’ (directing and acting) is all self-taught, so who knows. maybe he’s just in the society because of his aforementioned charitable work.

robert grove:

has starred in 40 productions with the society since 2002 (when he began work at cornley polytechnic as a caretaker - i’m taking this to mean he was never actually a student there.) anyway wow explains why they call him a “veteran actor” lol.

he offers acting lessons (reacting, gesturing, emotioning and acting) and can be contacted via twitter @robertgoodactor. i’ve looked this twitter account up and it does exist it’s just not been used since 2017 - that said there are some in-character photos of henry lewis as robert and nancy zamit as annie on there and plenty of tweets.

he runs an extremely dubiously safe cornley youth theatre program and can be contacted at his email robertgoodactor@hotmail.com (membership fees are non-refundable.)

trevor watson:

in TPTGW is arbitrarily from ‘the north east’ (rob falconer’s portrayal, whereas chris leask’s portrayal is firmly and specifically scouse.)

he has a twitter account (rob falconer’s portrayal) @trevtechie, with i think probably the most tweets of the cornley twitters. stopped being updated in 2017.

his participation in haversham was to complete an electronics module - as the light and sound technician i’d assume his course was in this kinda field.

he states that after haversham he wants to never work with the cornley drama society again, but as of PPGW he’s “following in his parents footsteps” and has pivoted to possibly actually studying stage management. (his PPGW bio states that he’s in his final year at the uni for the 3rd time running. so it could mean his staying on with cornley is like partially due to failing his course?)

dennis tyde:

in his TPTGW bio it states that he joined the drama society after failing to get in to any other societies.

he didn’t live on university campus and commuted in from his parents’ house. he mostly just wanted to make friends - he’s interested in snooker and wants to meet like-minded people.

in his PPGW bio he still wants to make friends and says you can reach him via twitter @dennistyde. i checked this account too and again it does exist but hasn’t been used since 2013, and there are only 3 tweets so its much more bare-bones than the others. i like his one tweet about drinking a mug of bovril to calm his nerves before a show.

as of 2021 in promotional vids we learn that dennis and robert now live together.

max bennett:

in TPTGW bio it says he was a first year studying human geography and crime which i was surprised about but sure okay. it also says here that he happily donated “a large portion of his recent inheritance” to the society to help fund it.

at the bottom of TPTGW’s cast page it states that the west end performance of the play is “made possible by a generous legacy from claude bennett” who’s presumably max’s grandfather? or just father? idk

his TPTGW bio also says his favourite movie is the legend of bagger vance which i’ve never seen but is apparently a will smith golf movie.

his hobbies as listed in his PPGW bio are chess, cooking & hanging out with friends and fam. he also dedicates his performance in PPGW to his grandma claire, which is sweet.

annie twilloil:

as of TPTGW she’s designed, built, painted, costumed & stage managed every cornley show for the past 3 years. in the PPGW bio, it states she’s studying cognitive behavioural therapy and pottery, and has taken up life drawing at the student’s union (as the model.)

after haversham, she apparently had an internship lined up at the bolton octagon.

she has WILD backstory in her PPGW bio that says she dedicated her performance to her estranged husband julian who she hoped was in the audiance and two children frangipani and ylang-ylang. not sure if the kids are with her or with the husband but either way, wild. nuts. pretty funny but also pretty tragic.

she’s also got an ad out looking for a new bloke (i suppose if her husband isn’t in the audience) apparently she’s been left by boyfriends previously for an air hostess, a stripper, and a coal miner.

she also enjoys knitting and playing the banjolin (an instrument she made herself.) her email address is greatfunmum@hotmail.com.

she has a twitter account that again hasnt been used since 2017 (@annietwiloil). a couple tweets chronicle dave hearn’s shoulder dislocation but as max so i guess its canon that max also dislocated his shoulder, but he did it while trying to open a twix? lmao

sandra wilkinson:

in her TPTGW bio it states that haversham manor is her 11th production with the company. idk how frequently they put on shows.

she won some kind of local kids beauty pageant in 1998 and did some modelling for a local restaurant (the sunam balti house, which apparently the cornley crew frequent? or have at least been to - seems they struggled with spicyness levels there, especially dennis.)

nothing on her course at the university, i might just take a stab and assume she was actually doing acting, since her bio is mostly about her being a performer.

she’s a big fan of jeremy irvine, they mention him in both of her bios.

jonathan harris:

is a total health & fitness guy. his course at the uni is in physical education and he’s also a model, though who’s to say what for. in PPGW this is expanded and he’s moved on to being a combo model/actor/photographer/lifecoach.

he loves his outdoor sports: mountain biking & kayaking are noted.

he had a bath salts advert out and he hoped it was gonna go national.

lucy grove:

her surname IS grove! i wasn’t sure, but that’s confirmed. not really much about her in there, because the bio is written by robert and he just used it to gas himelf up.

can’t tell if she’s a student at the university or just in the society through robert. genuinely there’s just not a lot to go on when it comes to lucy.

another note is that the murder at haversham manor and the version of peter pan that the cornley crew perform are both written by ‘susie h. k. brideswell’ who i guess either chris knows or chris is a big fan of?

other notes... they try so hard to make out like the characters aren't all the same age like implying that robert is genuinely older than most of them etc etc but ofc the cast featured in the TV broadcasts are all visibly the same age... ofc all this is just comedy innit so you can take it or leave it

also i realised that the american version of TPTGW calls it “the cornley university drama society” since i guess you guys dont have polytechnics over there. a polytechnic is like... a university that offers the arts (among the classics you know science law what have you) basically. by 2021 in promotional videos etc. shields in character as chris has dropped “polytechnic” altogether from the group’s name (but varies between calling it ‘the cornley drama society’ and ‘the cornley amateur dramatics society’) i assume to reflect how much time has passed since the group put on their first production under chris’ leadership - and that now they’re simply operating unattached to the university because they’ve become a real family. love love love, sillyness and love.

[newtonsheffield]

For spicy Sunday….What about Anthony and Kate having a bath together?? 🌶🌶🌶 ps. LOOOOOVED TENSION (can’t wait for next chapter of b&s)

Oh Hello there!

So I don't know if anyone remembers, but! This Coming Friday (25th June) Is Kate and Anthony's BSCU Wedding anniversary! And so, this week's fic will be called Anniversary

Anyway! On with the show!

Anthony + Kate + Rubba Dubb Dubb in the tub (No. Someone sedate me. I'm very tired right now, and very hungover)

It has started as one of those days where for some reason, you can feel the tension tight in your shoulders as soon as you wake up. Everything in your body pulled tight, on edge almost the minute your eyelids flicker open. And Kate knew it was stupid, but she resented it just a little. Resented the stress her job sometimes brought her despite how much she loved it.

She'd woken alone in her bed, tension already coiled tight as she thought about the meeting she had today. The celebrity looking for his new legal counsel, referred by Daphne's PR firm and usually Anthony managed them all but he'd been so busy, and he'd looked at her with so much trust in his eyes when he said You'll be great, Katie! And a not so secret part of her had preened that he thought she was capable, that he trusted her so much. But that didn't stop the anxiety swirling in her stomach as she slowly got ready for work, trying not to think of the dozens of other things also requiring her attention.

Anthony met her in the lobby, just as he always did when they spent the night apart, his lips toughing hers briefly as he held out a croissant to her. "Ugh I love you." She'd murmured against his lips, Her shoulders still tense. Anthony had chuckled, intertwining her fingers. "Are you talking to me or the pastry?" "I can love two things, Honey." She'd quipped back. silence falling over them as they entered the lift. "Are you nervous about today?" His question was light, his thumb leaving comforting circles on the back of her hand, so astute, reading her like a book. "I'm just very... stressed at the moment, I have a lot on." She'd shrugged. "You're going to be brilliant!" He'd said his eyes smiling at her, his confidence bolstering her own. But of course, it had been false.

The meeting had been an absolute disaster. From the very beginning the man had been rude, snapping and snarking and asking where Anthony was, why he wasn't taking his meeting. And Kate had done her best to keep her patience her shoulders rigid, but the man had left, irritated, vowing to never return. Kate had sunk into the chair at her desk, wondering how on earth she was going to tell Anthony that their new client wouldn't be their client after all. Especially after he'd trusted her.

She heard her office door open and close, not able to lift her head from her hands, he heard footsteps and seconds later Anthony's soft hands were firmly on her shoulders, massaging, comforting. She sighed spinning in her chair to face him. "I'm sorry, I really tried." She whispered, barely able to look at the soft expression on his face. Anthony shrugged. "Lucy said he was a dick. I'm worried about you, Katie." His voice firm his eyes searching. "What you need to do, is go home, and take a nice long relaxing bath." It was Kate's turn to let out a strangled scoff now, stress still pounding in her head. "I don't have a bathtub." Anthony let out a mock gasp, his eyes wide with faux astonishment "If only you had a boyfriend who did!"

Which is how Kate came to be where she was now, standing in Anthony's ensuite, biting her lip as she looked at her very sweet boyfriend flitting around lighting candles, the bathtub filling with warm water, sweet scented bubbles forming, steam rising off the water. Anthony smiled up at her gently as he bent to test the water. "All Done." He kissed her cheek, making to leave. Kate caught his hand. "Come in with me." a firm statement wrenched for her chest, the worry still fluttering there despite the flutter at Anthony's soft smile.

He undressed quickly, settling himself against the back of the tub, tugging her down to sit between his legs seconds later, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and finally the tension she'd been feeling loosened, shifted, just a little. Anthony lips were soft against his cheek, her collarbone one hand drawing soft circles against her hip bone under the water, the pther gently holding back her hair from her neck, so soft and tender it made her heart ache. "Can I help you relax Kate?" Anthony asked softly. Kate could feel his eyes burning into her. "Please, I can make you feel so good." And god, it was all she wanted. To feel something other than this relentless anxiety. She nodded softly, and the hand that had bee on her hip bone trailed between her legs.

Kate felt her breath catch, Anthony's lips sucking softly at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She let out a soft sigh as his hand worked over her, her hips grinding against it, heat settling in her stomach, a different kind of tension building. The water was lapping against the sides of the tub, spilling onto the floor in time with Anthony's movements, a slow crescendo building, Anthony's chest firm behind her his voice rough in her ear drowning out the soft keens and mewls falling from her own lips. Always so beautiful Kate, you feel fucking fantastic. I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel all the time. And then she'd fallen over the edge, Anthony's arms still tight around her grounding her as she fell. Her heavy breathing filling the room as the tension she'd been carrying all day slowly leaked into the water surrounding her.

Anthony kissed her cheek again, humming contentedly. "Isn't that better?" And that was the thing about Anthony, he was so ready to please her, so eager, rarely ever looking for reciprocation. And honestly, that more than anything is what made her want to. Kate spun in his arms, her lips finding his. "Much better. Stop making me fall i love with you." she chuckled lightly in his ear, feeling more than a little stupid. Anthony's eyes were shining with delight, preening just a little. "No, I don't think I will."

[thepremedthatwrites]

Hey there! I love your writing and was wondering if you could potentially write some fluff and smut with Peter Pevensie? Something where he and the reader are married in the Golden Age and honestly everything else is up to you.. if you don’t want to do smut then fluff or angst would be great! I honestly just need some new Peter stuff to read. Thanks!

Missed You

thank you so much! I hope you’ve been able to read more Peter stuff through my other posts!  here’s another one that I hope you enjoy!

warning: smut below the cut

The sun had started to set below the tree line, the cool evening air mixing with the warmth that has been brought on by the daylight.  “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay outside, (y/n).” I turned my head to see Susan standing near the entrance to the castle as she pulled the wrap tighter around her body.

“They should have been back by now.”

“I’m sure a letter would have been sent if something had gone wrong.”  Although she gave me a reassuring smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  I slowly got up from the stone bench I had been sitting on.  

“I feel like there’s something wrong,” I said as I walked towards the Queen.  “Perhaps I should ride out there.  If they’re in trouble I can help.”

“Don’t be ridiculous (y/n).  It would be too dangerous for you to go.”  

“But what if they need me?  What if Peter needs me?”  I felt my voice start to strain as the image of my husband wounded on the battlefield entered my mind.

“I’m sure they’re just a bit behind schedule (y/n).  It’s only been a few hours,” Susan reassured me.

“What if they’re not okay?”

“If they don’t arrive by morning, we’ll send reinforcements.”  I played with a lock of my hair as my brain started imagining the worst happening to Peter.  “Let’s get you some tea to calm you down.”  I started to follow Susan down the hall when the sound of trumpets rang through the air.  I jumped in surprise before a smile formed on my face.

“They’re here!” I exclaimed, rushing towards the front doors.  Susan rushed to follow me as I joined my husband at the door.  I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him, burying my face into his neck.  Peter immediately hugged me back, his strong arms almost crushing me.  “I was so worried,” I whispered.  “I thought something happened.”

“It’s alright love.  I’m right here.”  I let out a content sigh, standing in the arms of my husband.

“Were you not worried about me?”  I pulled away from Peter to see Edmund standing a few feet behind him, a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have to worry about you, Ed.  I know you can handle yourself.”  I grinned, ruffling his hair playfully.  

“Hey watch it, you’re gonna mess up my hair.”  Edmund quickly worked on fixing his hair as I pulled away.

“Oh please, both you and Peter stink worse than the livestock,” Lucy said as she joined us.  Peter pulled her into a hug causing her to immediately start to complain.  “Pete!  I just took a bath!”

We all chuckled as Lucy pushed Peter away.  “Seriously though.  You two need to take a bath,” Susan said.

“Alright, alright,” Peter replied, putting his hands up in defense.  “C’mon Ed, let’s clean up so we aren’t ridiculed any longer in our own home.”  

I walked into the room, Peter already in the tub.  He was scrubbing his arms but stopped when he heard me enter.  His head shot up, a smile forming on his face as he saw me.  “Are you here to make sure I wash?” he chuckled.

“No, I’m here to join you.”  I started to untie the strings of my dress as Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

“You mean, you’re going to bathe with me?’

“That is my plan.”  I let my dress fall to the floor, leaving me almost completely naked.  “Why?  Scared Pevensie?”

“Of course not.”  I smiled, taking off my undergarments before climbing into the bath.  The warm water immediately relaxed my muscles as I made my way into Peter’s lap.  

“I missed you.”

“Me too.”  Peter allowed his hands to travel my body, squeezing my ass, and cupping my breasts.  “Two months without you,” he whispered.  “It was torture.”

I nodded, my hands holding his face as I looked into his ocean blue eyes.  The love and adoration held in them were almost unbearable.  The intensity of his stare caused me to focus my attention on my hands as they wandered down to his broad shoulders.  I allowed my hands to travel down to his biceps before moving inward to his chest.  I locked eyes with him as my hands went farther down, brushing over his abs.  “I love you,” I said, almost inaudible.  One of Peter’s hands rested on my cheek.  I leaned into it, missing the feeling of his touch.

“I love you with all that I am (y/n).  Everything that I do is for you.  You’re the light of my life and I couldn’t bear to imagine life without you.”  Although his words were a bit cheesy, I couldn’t help but smile at them.

“Promise me you won’t leave me here for that long ever again.”

“You know I can’t.  Traveling comes with the crown.”

“Then maybe I should join you next time.”

“(Y/n),” he started, his voice holding a warning tone. 

“I want to go wherever you go.  Even if that means to battle.”

“I don’t know love.  It can be dangerous.”  I let out a sigh, not wanting to argue with Peter.  Instead, I stayed quiet allowing my hands to start to travel further down his body and away from his abs.  I heard him inhale sharply as my hand wrapped around his cock.  My eyes flickered to his, my face wearing a grin. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” I whispered as my hands started to travel up and down his shaft slowly.

“Fuck (y/n),” Peter said, his mouth falling slightly open as his eyes shut.  “That feels really good.”  I watched in awe and wonder as my husband let out a soft moan.  

“Peter,” I gasped as I felt a hand travel between my legs.  His full lips curled into a smile as his eyes opened halfway.  I let out a low moan as his finger started to draw circles around my clit.  I brushed my thumb across his tip causing his body to shudder.  In response, he entered two fingers into me causing my back to arch in pleasure.  With each thrust, the palm of his hand pressed against my clit sending a new wave of pleasure to course throughout my body.

I started to move my hand faster.  The bathwater had started to turn cold but neither of us cared.  We were both too focused on making the other finish first.  I could feel myself start to clench around his fingers.  My hips had started to push forward as my body chased its orgasm.  I could see Peter’s face contorted with pleasure, his hips occasionally bucking up.  I let out a loud moan as I came undone.  My heart was racing in my chest as my brain was clouded with pleasure.  I could hear Peter moaning as well as he reached his own climax.  

I cautiously opened my eyes to see his blue ones looking back.  I leaned forward, my forehead pressing against his as his arms wrapped around me.  “I missed this,” he whispered, causing me to chuckle lightly.

“I missed this too.”

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XXVIII

*Warning: Mild Adult Content at the end of this chapter.*

Cordelia sat upon the chaise lounge staring wonderingly into the flickering red and orange curls of the fire the maid had just added fresh wood to. Her eyes felt like cotton, no matter how many times she blinked. She could not erase the images of Tatiana Blackthorn’s story in her mind. Images of Belial— of Lucie— doing horrible things to this world under his control.

She thought of her dearest friend and the years of secrets she’d managed to keep well within herself. Secrets Cordelia could only wish Lucie would have felt comfortable enough to share with Cordelia, of all people.

Despite herself, she could not help but wonder whatever she’d done to cause Lucie to feel she could not trust her with such sacred information. Perhaps she could have been of more help.

But then how could she judge her friend for harboring secrets when Cordelia herself had plenty of secrets of her own. Perhaps they could have helped each other.

As her mother was always preaching, it doesn’t do to dwell on the past. The future can be changed.

The old grandfather clock in the study rang eleven times marking the hour. She’d left the drawing-room to allow the Herondale’s their space to discuss the rescue of Lucie; however, no one seemed to have a logical plan without knowing exactly how to access her. James took Matthew and Christopher aside to fill them in on the details of the afternoon.

Not wishing to be in the way or draw attention to herself, Cordelia snuck away into the study and found herself curling up on the sofa for the past hour.

When her legs had grown stiff and the fire had dwindled to a pile of flickered black coal at the bottom, the door to the study creaked open on aged hinges.

The firelight created shadows over James’s face making him look more beautiful than he already was. His eyes had lost the spark they used to hold except when they fell upon Cordelia. Even know as his gaze found her on the lounge, his shoulders dropped away from his ears and a small smile lifted at the corners of his mouth. Her heart sped up just a bit. “There you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Cordelia smiled as much as she could manage and pulled the throw blanket up over her shoulder.

“You slipped away without telling anyone.” He came to stand beside the end of the lounge where Cordelia’s bare feet rested.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said and filled her lungs. “I wanted your family to have a moment to talk. I did not want to be in the way.”

“Cordelia,” said James and slowly sank onto the edge of the lounge. “You are never in the way. Lucie is as much your family as she is my own.”

“Thank you for saying that,” said Cordelia, “But I cannot help—“ The words trapped in her throat.

James tenderly and without hesitation reach up and brushed a fallen strand of hair away from her face. His finger curled underneath her chin and he lifted her eyes to meet his own.

“I know what troubles you,” he said, his golden eyes flickered across her face. “They are the same troubles as my own. But this is not your fault.”

Cordelia exhaled sharply. “If I just been more available to her.”

“No.” James cupped her face between his hands. “Lucie still would have kept her secrets and Belial would have gone even farther to acquire her, even so far as removing one of us from his way.”

Cordelia nodded and pressed her cheek into his palm. “I just feel so useless. I want to go after her— I want to do something.”

“As do I,” said James. “But after what Tatiana said, Magnus assured us that the best thing we can do is prepare for Belial’s first strike. If he’s already possessed Lucie then we must find a way to separate them. If she’s managed to fight him away, then we’ll be ready to assist her. Whatever the case, we must wait.”

She hated waiting. Never having been very good at it in her short seventeen years.

“She must be so scared,” said Cordelia, imagining her time alone with Belial. It’d been the most terrifying experience of her life second to almost losing James.

James took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “If I know anything about my sister, she is not making this time pleasant for Belial. I would almost be more concerned for his sanity rather than her own.”

“Are you trying to make light of this situation?”

James scowled. “On the contrary, I’m being quite serious.” He turned on his hip and stretched his legs out beside Cordelia. The chase lounge was just large enough to hold them both. It still felt odd to be alone with James without a chaperone, as if someone were to walk in on the two of them she’d still find her reputation compromised in some way, but then she remembered that her reputation had been quite compromised in all the ways it counted. For this man, she’d found herself in ruin. For this man, she’d given up the life dreamed and worked for her. And for this man, she’d do it again.

To offer him comfort; to offer him what strength she could give him, she’d do it again.

And tonight it seemed they needed both from each other. James leaned his head back and looked up at the wallpapered ceiling.

“Where has everyone gone off to?” She asked, tucking herself closer to his arm.

“My father and mother have gone to Henry and Charlotte’s to inform the Consul of Belial’s plan,” said James as if recited a list. “Grace and Jesse are with the Silent Brothers. Matthew and Christopher were called to report to Charles about today’s patrol. Nothing interesting to report except for a rouge Deatrix demon that was living in the sewers in Bath and a rogue werewolf with a mighty big temper. Alastair took your mother to a secondary location in case Belial decides to come here first and Thomas went with him, I believe. That’s about everyone. No one could find you to invite you along.”

“Oh James, you shouldn’t have stayed on my account,” said Cordelia. “I would have been perfectly all right.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” said James. “In truth, I wanted to stay behind. My mother has enough to handle with my father and the consul, whom I’m sure he’ll share some choice words with if they so much as attempt to condemn or criticize my mother for the kidnapping of Lucie. She did not need my company there as well. And I did not go with Matthew and Christopher on patrol as you well know, so I would have had nothing to report.”

“Is that all?”

“And…” James turned to look at Cordelia. “I much prefer your presence over any of theirs.” His eyes drifted down to Cordelia’s mouth and lingered there a moment before he met her gaze again. When he moved closer towards her, the warmth of his breath brushed against her lips, and she did not move. A silent, welcoming answer to his question. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that started soft and tender. She felt his hand slide across her waist to wrap around her back and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

A quickening fluttered in her core as his hand moved over her hip and down her thigh.

She felt as if she could scarcely breathe. She needed, wanted him closer. As if in response to some inner demand, her hands slid from the curve of his jaw, down the plains of his chest where muscles and bones contracted beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Her fingers found the hem and the soft, warm skin that lie beneath.

James shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.

He chuckled against her mouth. “Your fingers are cold.” He held her hand where it was against his abdomen. The lines and peaks of each muscle that could be felt along her fingertips had her breathing erratic again.

“A thought for a thought, Cordelia,” whispered James.

She did want to expose what she was thinking.

She looked up at him. His pupils were dilated making his eyes more black than gold. He watched her for a long moment, his eyes following the flick of her tongue over her bottom lip. “Cordelia. You’ve started calling me Cordelia— not Daisy. Why?”

His hand tightened around her own stopping its trail right above her heart. “When I gave you that nickname, we were but children. Whenever I saw you thereafter, I pictured you amongst those delicate flowers. But we are not children anymore. Ever since that moment I watched dance at the Hell Ruelle, Daisy just didn’t seem appropriate anymore. I look at you now and I can scarcely breathe. I look at you and I think about wanting you so badly that I have trouble concentrating on little else. I think about how I almost lost you and what I would do if I ever did.”

Her heart stumbled a beat. She no longer knew what to do with her arms, her legs, her face. She steeled her spine for what she was about to say, “I’m thinking— I’m thinking how if this is to be our last night alive— the last night we have with one another, then there is no one else in the world that I’d rather be spending it with. I’ve loved you since I was a little girl. And to hear you say such things… God, it feels as if I might burst. And given the current situation, considering our efforts should be focused on Lucie, perhaps that makes me a terrible person or a woman worthy of ruin—“

“It doesn’t,” he said and pressed his forehead against hers. “For tonight, there are no expectations, I just want to hold you. I want you as close as you’ll allow me.”

Cordelia sank closer into him as she drew her hand away out from underneath his shirt. She took his hand that was holding her face and showed him exactly how and where she wanted to be touched. The rough callouses of his fingers grazed the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, and over the full contours of her breasts, that felt too full for her usual corset.

His eyes never left hers as his hand kept moving down her stomach and only paused when he reached her lower abdomen.

“Have you ever—?” She blushed. “With anyone?”

James shook his head. “Though Matthew is quite vocal about his own endeavors, I have not.”

“Not even Grace?”

James shook his head again. “Grace and I barely shared a kiss. What you and Lucie saw that night was nothing more.” His fingers played with the fabric of her gown. “We don’t have to do anything tonight unless you wish to.”

“Do you wish to?”

His nose grazed her jaw and she arched beneath him. “I am yours, Cordelia. In whatever way you will have me, I am yours.”

Something hard pushed against her center. Heat flooded her and the breath was stolen from her lungs.

He let her lead for a time. Her shaking hands unbuttoned his shirt and helped remove it from his shoulders. She discovered every inch of his bare chest, kissing her way up until he couldn’t stand it any longer and he claimed her mouth.

He made quick work of unbuttoning her gown and with inhuman strength, he broke the small clasps of her corset ripping it open where it was secured at her front. When she was free, he took his own time discovering her. An exhilaration and ecstasy she’d never felt came over her with each tender kiss to her exposed flesh. All the while her body begged for more. For him to be closer. For the burning to stop.

When the moment came, it was not as she’d always feared as a young girl. There was a brief moment of discomfort, but she clung closer to James relishing in the way their bodies responded and adapted to one another. Then there was no more pain, only pleasure. At that moment, she understood why this act was so forbidden. Why worried mothers guarded their daughters and men climbed rafters and went to war. Because to be so close to him, to feel his heart beating against her own chest, Cordelia could not remember a time when she’d been happier or felt more loved.

Whatever happened tomorrow, or the days granted after, no longer mattered. For the night, she’d forget about the end of the world. They’d help each other to forget.

____________________________________________________________________

The grandfather clock chimed again this time with four distinct rings. Cordelia stirred besides James, his arms were banded around her, his breathing deep and even. He was already awake and gazing at the ceiling above them. His index finger drew lazy patterns across her bare shoulder.

For a moment, she wondered if it’d all been a dream. But from the slight, delicate tenderness between her legs, she knew it had not.

“Are you all right?” James whispered into her hair.

Carefully, she twisted to face him. His arms tightened around her as if to keep her from disappearing.

“Yes, quite,” she said quietly.

His eyes were solemn as he looked at her.

“What is it?” She asked. A terrible fear came over her that he might be having some regrets. “Did I do—“

“Will you marry me?” The words spilled from him and seemed to bring with a quick release. “For real this time? Would you be—“

Before he could ask again, Cordelia had flattened herself against him, pressing her mouth to his.

“Yes,” she smiled deeply. Without warning, he sat up so that she was straddling his lap. “Yes.”

His broad hands slid around her back as he kissed her. Neither of them thinking of the troubles to come.

(Author’s Notes: I have been so hesitant to post this! I’ve read of it twelve different times and even had my friend read it. You all can blame her for this because she said go for it. It’s not as good as any CC can write, but I thoroughly enjoyed letting James and Cordelia get frisky. Sorry for the wait! I shall see you next Monday 2/1 and we’ll be back to see what Lucie’s up to. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. As always, thank you for reading, liking, and reblogging this story. It seriously means SO much to me.)

[scribbles97]

Faith and Trust

@tsarinatorment gave me SO MANY FEELINGS about @gumnut-logic’s Marks and Wings Universe. 

But at the same time @womble1 got me thinking about Lucy with THIS POST 

So this is basically a result of all of the above and the added fact that I had planned to write a Jeff fic today. Instead this happened... which you will be much more thankful for because this is an awful lot fluffier than what I had planned!

For as long as Jeff had remembered, Lucy had always worn long sleeved tops. Even in the height of summer, when the days had been long and the breeze hot, she had always had something to cover her. 

He had never questioned, she told him so much, spoke so freely about everything else. He trusted if there was something to tell, she would tell him. She would tell him when she was ready, and in the meantime he would wait. 

Except, at the end of summer they were going their separate ways. She to college and he to the Air Force, they had talked at length about what the change meant for their relationship. Both had ignored the comments that one should follow the other, that the highschool sweethearts couldn’t possibly be apart. They were both too wrapped up in each other to really listen, and both most certainly too stubborn to give in their own dreams to follow the other. 

They knew it was all they could do to simply try, to give it their best shot and work things out as they went. 

At least, that was what they had agreed the last time they had spoken about it. 

Lucy’s midnight phone call had driven a spike of fear deep into his chest. Her insistence that she needed to see him then to tell him something. Something that couldn’t wait until morning.

Mom was at work, the all night shift at the hospital not due to be over until the sun broke the horizon. Lucy had known, just like she always did, it was her knack to keep track of everything around her. She had offered to come around, and he knew even if his mother had been home, she still wouldn’t have minded. 

His chest tightened at the thought, Mom loved Lucy, their two families had always been close for as long as he could remember. If they broke up she would be devastated. 

Sitting on the back porch, he chewed the tip of his thumb, listening and waiting for the rumble of Lucy’s old truck to make its way up the drive. Things were good, of that he was sure. They’d worked so hard to figure things out, to establish just how they were going to manage when they were so far away from one another. They had plans for summer, plans to make the most of the few months where they could see each other as much as they so desired. 

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe that she would throw all that away. 

The slam of her truck door made him jump, so lost in the spiral of his own thoughts, he hadn’t heard her pull up. Her feet crunched on the gravel of the path that lead around the back of the house. They’d been together long enough that she knew the key for the back door lived under the plant pot at the bottom of the steps Jeff was sat on. 

He looked up as she stopped in front of him.

And immediately noticed the tank top she was wearing. 

No sleeves. 

“Hey,” She murmured softly, forcing a tight smile in the low light bathing them from the kitchen window, “I’m sorry I--”

“No.” He cut her off, standing, striding across to meet her, “Lucy, we were going to have all summer. What changed? What--” 

“Jeff.” She cut him off, the brown of her eyes hardening as she rested a hand on his chest, “Listen to me.” 

Swallowing, he looked down. 

Her hand was light on his cheek as she met his eyes, the brown softening as she watched him. 

“I’m not breaking up with you.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head, “Then wha--”

“I need to tell you something,” She continued, still watching him closely, “And I want to tell you now because I want us to make the most of this summer that we have together, but also because I trust you with my life.” 

Frowning, he reached out to her, catching her hand with his. He didn’t understand, they had been trusting each other for years, had planned on making the most of summer before. What could she have to say that would change all that?

“Everyone at school always whispers about it,” She murmured, tugging at the thin straps of her tank top, “How I always wear long sleeves.”

He nodded, mute. 

“I want to show you why.” Her eyes met his again, a silent plea widening them as she bit her lip for a moment, “But you can’t ever tell anyone.”

Whatever it was, he knew wasn’t his secret to share. He could see the fear behind the plea in her eyes, the way her cheeks sucked inwards, and her shoulders sat straighter. Whatever it was, she was afraid. 

“I swear on Mom.” He murmured, “I will never, ever, tell anyone Luce.”

She nodded once, smiling softly as she stepped back from him, holding one hand up in the universal gesture to stay. 

He felt bereft without having her close, like he was losing her despite her assurances. 

Turning her back to him, she pulled off her top. 

Jeff couldn’t help but stare. They looked like scars, light lines across her back and shoulders that glittered in the low light. Interest drew him closer, the pattern becoming less random and resembling something much more familiar. 

Feathers.

“You’re an Ave?”

Mom had told him the stories, though they had always been vague and something he hadn’t quite believed. He had definitely never seen someone with a Mark before, not in their little town at least. 

Instinct told him to step back again, as she tilted her head back, her shoulders dropping slightly as white feathers rose from her skin. Part disbelief, and part awe stopped him from looking away as white feathers stretched out from her shoulders, hints of silver flecked through the span. He wanted to reach out and touch them, not quite believing what he was seeing was real. 

They were bigger than he expected them to be, not that he was sure of what he had been expecting. 

“Jeff?” 

She had turned, was facing him in just her bra, fear in her eyes. 

The breeze was cool around him as he closed the space between them, pulling off his jacket as he did. 

“Are you not cold?” 

She shrugged as he wrapped the jacket over her shoulders the best he could, eyes fixed on him as she spoke, 

“I wanted you to see.” 

He smiled as he tilted his forehead down to hers, “I see Luce, and I swear, I won’t tell anyone.”

“You don’t hate me?”

Frowning, he pulled back just enough to look at her, “Hate? Lucy, no, they’re-- You are beautiful.” 

His eyes were drawn to the feathers again, watching how they fluttered in the light breeze. Her hand was warm on his arm, drawing him back to her. 

“You can touch them.” 

A shift and they were encircled, her smile knowing as he hesitated.

“You won’t hurt me.”

Smiling, he looked back down to her, “Can I draw them?” 

She laughed as she nodded, “You have all summer to.” 

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he drew her into him, eyes still distracted by the white-silver span. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more distracting.” 

Her laugh was loud in the quiet of the night, but filled their little space with warmth and music. His heart swelled as she looked back to her, relieved to see the brightness in her eyes that belonged there. Her hand reached to his cheek, drawing him down to her as she caught his lips. 

He smiled against her mouth, pulling back enough to murmur, “So, does lifting always involve taking your top off?” 

Her eyes showed laughter, even as she tried to be stern, “Jeff Tracy! No, it does not.” 

Grinning, he dipped down to kiss her again, “Then put your shirt back on before you freeze.” 

She didn’t step back that time as the wings withdrew, folding in behind her shoulders before disappearing from view altogether. 

“Does it hurt?” He wondered out loud as she pulled her tank top back over her head. 

“No,” She answered, taking his hand again and leading him towards the steps of the porch, “It’s a relief most days to lift.” 

He purposefully sat slightly behind her, fingers reaching out to brush over the lines of her mark. 

“I never knew,” He whispered, drawing his hand back as she shivered at his touch.

“You weren’t meant to.” She replied, twisting to look up to him, “The world doesn’t understand and I--” 

A finger against her lips silenced her as he nodded, the world was cruel and unkind. Unforgiving of what they didn’t know or understand, and selfish of something they could take advantage of. 

“I know.” He whispered, “I understand.” 

She smiled as she watched him, “Would you like to see them again?” 

He could only nod, awe getting the better of him.

He would never get tired of seeing them. 

Of seeing her in all her beauty. 

[termanigabs]

Borrower Reader Scenarios (Unedited)

3.)When You Get Caught

Svtfoe

-You were very paranoid,you didn't know if the Princess,who goes by her name Star,was around and you hadn't eaten in a while.You didn't know why you haven't left yet,that was always a question that raced through your head."Y/n you haven't eaten in how long just get your head straight and go borrowing," You say to yourself as you got your stuff ready and went out,"they should be gone," you reassured yourself as you peeked out of the hole.There was no one around so you cautiously started forward,you spotted a few strawberries laying out in an oddly neat way,it felt off though."Strange,maybe I should go ba-" before you could finish your sentence a jar was quickly placed over you,"see Marco!I told you there was a tiny person here!" Star said proudly,thoughts were swirling through your head as you slid to the ground and sat there,'how could I be so stupid?'

Gravity Falls

-"Gravity falls you have amazed me with another one of your beautiful evening lights," You exclaimed as you sat on the roof of the Mystery shack watching the mysterious beautiful lights that came from the forest."Sadly,I am not coming back to live in your wild forests cAUse I'd die," You stated munching on some chips.You could of sworn you heard creaking but then again you always heard things in the Mystery shack,"heh," you say a bit sadly as you hold a small shiny stone in your hand.You sat there in thought,you didn't notice the creaking becoming louder,until something pinched the back of your shirt,"woah!Hey!" You kick as you were lifted off the ground,feeling very nostalgic you stopped kicking and went limp.Your eyes met with one of the twins,"oh..hey..Dipper was it?" You say nervously.

The Owl House

-Today was a eventful day,you vanquished the rats that dared live in the home and got a cupcake as a reward!Strange right?Like it was left out there just for you,pfffft nah!That was impossible.Anyway,you even made a mouse creature friend,you named them the most perfect name..."Squeaks my noble steed come to me!" You say proud and bravely.The mouse creature quickly came to your aid as you grabbed your needle and jumped on your pet's back.Squeaks raced through the holes of the house swiftly,"this is what human's call a pro gamer move!" You yell as Squeaks darted out of the hole and onto the kitchen counter,"woooo!" You screamed as Squeaks reared back to the hole.You jumped off and landed by in the middle of the counter with a dramatic pose,"that was amazing!Slightly dangerous!And adorable!" A feminine voice said as you paused."Um..thaaaanks,I was pretty great," you say playing it off casually as the human leaned on the counter staring at you.You couldn't just run she would easily grab your shirt," My names-" "Luz Noceda,human," you say fast and nervously,you just wanted to hide away for eternity.The worst part was you dropped your needle.

The Loud House

-You have been very panicky lately,you would run through the walls and vents like your life depended on it.Sometimes,unknown to you that the loud siblings have been hearing it,and would investigate,but you were already gone.Lucy knew exactly that it was you,she had been listening,and watching you for various reasons and she finally decided that she would catch you,this was going to be easy because you were louder than usual,and that loudness is exactly how she caught you."Put me down,put me down,put me down!" You screech in fear of being held in her hand,there was rarely anyone home,just the two older siblings so no one really heard you."Lucy!Lucy put me down," you screech once more as she dropped you in a jar.Your heart was pounding and you felt like it was going to burst out of your chest,she moves quicker than you thought.She seemed to ignore you all together and place the jar on her bed where no one can see you,"shhh,quiet or they'll hear you," was all she said.The way she said it made you want to hide in an ally way,it was so spooky and freaky.

Eddsworld

-"We meet again little thing," the voice owner's accent rang as you huff and turn your head away from him,you were scared to death but showing fear was not an option.He held you in his fist as he examined you,"mind telling me what you are?" He questions to which you roll your eyes and huff at him again.He didn't seem to like that as he tightened his grip on you,"I'm a borrower!" You shout angrily as Tord smirked,"a borrower?" He seemed to say to himself as he carried you to his room,you didn't like where this was going.He casually set you on the counter,you could see a knife embedded into the dresser he set you on.Your body froze as you watched him move around his room as if looking for something,'what was he planning?'

Hazbin Hotel

-"No!No!No!No!No!Let me go!" You yell as tears formed in your eyes,you were starving and you didn't mean to blindly fall into her trap.Was it worth it?In your perspective no."Calm down!Calm down!I promise I won't hurt you!" She tried to say but you were fluffing out your wings in defense and then started to wrap them around you securely as you went quiet.Making sure not to draw any attention,Charlie quickly enclosed her hands around you and quickly fled the scene back to her hotel.She would have to keep you out of sight from the others for a while and gain your trust.

Fnaf 2

-You were feeling very sour,the freaking Guards wouldn't stop pestering you.They would mess with your holes,try to catch you and do so much and it didn't help that the animatronics were being snoopy as well.'I'm going to die but I don't care,' you thought as you wait for the guards to walk in,when they finally did they were shocked to see you."So,you guys done yet?Done pestering me and making my life harder?" You start as Vincent smirks,"you've got some guts coming out of your little hole," he said as you rolled your eyes."You've got some guts pushing my limit," you sneered unknown to you that the animatronics were listening in."What are you going to do bite size?" Vincent questioned cockily as the other guards flinched back when you used a rubber band to fling a fork at his head,Vincent was clearly pissed but Mike stepped in before he could grab you."Let's not make this a blood bath," he says as he eyes you,you only smirked at him.Some catch.

[dindjarindiaries]

Thunder - Chapter 8: Hail

summary: Time winds down until Frankie has to leave Luciana, and suspicions start to grow as to what’s going on between them.

warnings: anxiety attack, angst, fluff, mentions of death, references to sex

rating: R

word count: 4.82k

masterlist

chapter 8: hail

Waking up the next morning, Frankie’s almost certain he’s ascended to heaven. The warm glow of sunlight’s peeking in through the window of the guesthouse bedroom, bathing the woman who lays asleep on his chest in an angelic light. Frankie feels more at peace than he has in a long time, even with the prospect of what’s to come nagging at the back of his mind. He knows he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than where he is in this very moment—even in the air.

But then, it all sinks in: he’s still here, with Luciana, in the guesthouse, in the morning—and not with everyone else.

Frankie curses under his breath and gently starts to sit up, stirring Luciana from her sleep. She looks up at him through her lashes, eyes half-lidded in a way that Frankie thinks is adorable but can’t dwell on right now. “It’s the morning, Luce,” Frankie informs her, his voice soft yet panicked. “The guys could be up, and they might be looking for—.”

He’s cut off by Luciana leaning in swiftly to kiss him, her hand brushing over his cheek in a way that makes him forget everything else he’d been worrying about. When she pulls away, she stays close, her nose brushing against Frankie’s as she looks him deep in his eyes. “Relájate.” Luciana adds a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’ll be fine. We’ll just say we woke up early and decided to go for a walk—and we brought the umbrella in case it rained again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath and nods to agree, earning a smile from Luciana in praise as she kisses him one more time. “You always think on your feet,” he tells her, earning a soft chuckle as she moves off of him. She frees herself from the sheets and stands, and Frankie can’t help the way his gaze admires her body once again. In this light, where it’s brighter and even more angelic, he can see more of the outline he’d tried to burn into memory last night, and he can’t help his heart from beating faster at her sheer beauty.

“Now, don’t relax too much, Morales,” Luciana warns Frankie, pulling him from his trance. “I don’t think we have time for another round before things start to look more… suspicious.”

Frankie ignores the blush on his cheeks as he shrugs, starting to untangle himself from the sheets. “Are you sure ‘bout that?”

Luciana raises an eyebrow at him as she starts getting her clothes from the night before back on. “Don’t insult yourself like that, babe. I’m sure you could last much longer than what we’re being given.”

Frankie scoffs and shakes his head, trying to hide his smile of amusement as he also dresses himself back up. Once they make the room neat to the way it’d been before—including new sheets as provided in the closet of the room—they walk out hand-in-hand to the main part of the guesthouse. Frankie reaches for the umbrella and, before he can reach for the door, Luciana pulls him into another kiss. It’s deep and full of the desperation of not knowing when they can share another, lips parted and tongues dancing like their bodies had during the later hours of the night. Frankie’s hand cups her cheek as they pull away, a thumb brushing over the skin there as he watches the light dance in her brown eyes. “I love you,” Franke confesses in a voice that’s hushed yet honest, “and one day, the whole world will know it.”

“All in time,” Luciana assures him, a phrase that he knows he needs to hear because the guilt of not being more public with their relationship has started to eat away at him. She gives his hand a squeeze and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I love you, too.”

They share a gaze for a few lingering moments and then they open the door of the guesthouse, making sure none of the guys are around before they pretend to return from a morning spent walking through the trails of the surrounding wood. Thanks to their chemistry not only as lovers but also as friends, it’s easy for them to begin making light and casual conversation, making things look natural as they walk back up to the main house. Once they walk inside, they’re met with surprised exclamations from the guys who sit around the kitchen table, except for Santiago who works some eggs in a pan on the stove.

“We all thought you were both asleep, gonna be honest,” Benny admits, drawing a sip from his water with a raised brow.

“Us? Up later than you?” Luciana lets out a playful scoff as she teases him. “You should’ve known better. We were up early and decided to go for a walk. It’s beautiful around here.”

It’s true, Frankie thinks to himself, wishing he could say it to Luciana. My view this morning was really beautiful.

“I’d say that surprises me, but it doesn’t,” Tom mumbles, a small smile growing on his lips as he looks between the two of them. “One day, we’ll switch it up on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Luciana demurs with a chuckle. “Maybe after you’re done with bootcamp.”

And, as much as that’s meant to be a joke, those are the words that make Luciana’s mind take a darker route the rest of the day.

It continues just like the day before, the majority of it spent down at the dock—swimming, boating, kayaking, whatever else to have fun and cool off in the midst of the summer heat. She’s allowed herself a few extra drinks, which she realizes now likely wasn’t the best choice. Luciana sits here in one of the Adirondack chairs, taking a moment to bathe in the sun as she watches the boys toss a football around in the shallower part of the lake, and lets herself think too much.

She’s the only one being left behind. Luciana will have to stay here while her brothers—including one by blood—go off to serve, losing any kind of the contact she’s had with them ever since they all met and gelled together. This includes the love of her life, a man she’s known for longer than the rest aside from Santiago, someone she’s not sure how to live without anymore. Even before the love bloomed, he was the crutch she didn’t realize she was leaning on, the other half that kept her in check and balanced and excited to grow in life. Luciana knows she’s been the same thing for him. She doesn’t often think about what could happen to him while she’s away—not just in the line of duty, but in his mind and his heart. She knows there’s darkness there that even she hasn’t gotten to fully explore, hurt from the things that’s happened to him that he shouldn’t have to deal with on his own. Now, he has to be alone.

Her gaze jumps from person-to-person as they jump and move around in the water—from “grumpy” ol’ Tom, to young, wild, and free Benny, to less-wild-but-still-kinda-crazy Will, to her dearest and fiercely protective Santi, and finally to her entire heart, the caring and kind Frankie—and she can’t help picturing what would happen if this was the last time they were all together. If something happened and she lost one of them, or even all of them. If this little family of theirs that’s dysfunctional yet beautiful in its own unique way was harmed in any way, shape, or form. Luciana’s not sure how she’d be able to carry on. Picturing a life without them, one without Tom or Benny or Will or Santi or Frankie, is enough to knock the breath right from her lungs.

And that’s exactly what it does. Suddenly, Luciana—the one who’s been revered as never being afraid of anything—feels more fear than she’s ever experienced before in her life, and now she can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

Luciana tries to take a deep breath but it stalls. The place where she’s supposed to feel the soft rise and fall of her chest is instead engulfed in burning flames, feeling as if they’re full of sand as she tries to get the air in. A cold sweat breaks out on her forehead as she blinks a few times, trying to compose herself because she doesn’t want to break down like this, to show that she’s weaker than everyone thinks she is. But then she tries to breathe again and she still can’t.

She moves to sit on the very edge of her seat, hoping that’ll help somehow as she tries to expand her lungs. It does nothing. Instead, the heaving of her chest becomes more obvious, the cold sweat providing a glare of the sun’s rays, and she realizes she’s drawing attention.

“Luci?” her brother’s voice calls to her, but it feels far away, much further than the few feet he stands in the lake away from her. “You okay?” Santiago comes closer, stepping out of the water as his brow furrows in concern. Luciana looks at him and sees his eyes widen upon viewing the horror in her eyes and the evidence of struggles that go deeper than he was anticipating.

She shakes her head.

Santiago runs over, now, kneeling in front of Luciana and taking one of her hands in his. “What is it, hermanita?” he panics, his free hand touching her cheek and grimacing at how flushed it is. “How can I help?”

“I can’t breathe,” Luciana manages, the image of her brother blurring before her thanks to the tears of fear, shame, and stress that cloud her eyes, now. “I—Santi, I can’t breathe.”

Luciana sees Santiago bristle with more panic as he turns and addresses something to the boys that Luciana can’t take the time to listen to now, fully capturing their attention.

And when Frankie sees what’s happening, he just about feels his heart drop out into the water. It takes everything in him not to sprint over full-speed and take Luciana in his arms right then and there, instead rushing out of the water with the guys to better see what’s going on. Frankie instantly recognizes the behavior because it’s something he’s not unfamiliar with: an anxiety attack.

“Don’t crowd,” Frankie instructs the guys, shooing them to somewhere further off on the dock. He kneels beside Santiago in front of Luciana, placing a hand on her knee as he looks up at her calmly. “You’re having an anxiety attack, Luce. You just need to breathe in time with me, okay?” He earns a struggled nod at that, and he gives her a smile of praise. Santiago looks nervously between his brother and sister. “Breathe in real deep with me, like this.” Frankie takes a deep breath in, and he watches as Luciana shakily does the same. He holds it for a few seconds before going on. “And now let it out.” He exhales as Luciana repeats his motion. He smiles again. “Good. Keep it up.”

Frankie breathes with Luciana until her heaving diminishes and she’s able to get the air in on her own. A few beads of cold sweat still cascade down her head, though Frankie can only see her gaze looking into his—one that’s full of horror and longing, a longing to be comforted by him. But he can’t.

“You’re alright, hermanita,” Santiago assures his sister, hands reaching for the sides of her face as he brushes his thumbs over them. “Feel a little better?” Luciana just nods at him, eyes flickering between her brother and her lover. Frankie tries to ignore the heavy ache in his chest. “I’ll take you to the house and we’ll get you some peace and quiet.”

Luciana nods again to agree, letting Santiago help her to stand up as they start to walk up to the house. Her gaze lingers for just another moment on Frankie when Santiago stops to place a grateful hand on Frankie’s shoulder, and he feels helpless as he begins to stand up slowly from where he’d been kneeling, wishing more than anything that he could be the one going with her—and needing to know what was going through her mind and heart in this moment. Though, he’s pretty sure it has to do with the words she’d cried to him last night, and that thought alone breaks him into pieces.

Once Santiago and Luciana are further out of sight, Frankie walks himself to the edge of the dock, sitting with his legs in the water as he rips his hat from his head. He kneads the material in his hands, his gaze looking endlessly into the rippling water ahead of him. It’s at times like these when he thinks that she’s worth the sacrifice of losing flying. That maybe he can find another skill, another passion, so that she doesn’t have to be alone here and suffer like this. He’d be more than willing to try for her. But she’d never let him.

This is just the first time of many where Luciana will have to suffer without him—and Frankie knows he has to get used to this feeling of pain.

Frankie’s slightly startled when the dock rocks next to him, his gaze looking up to its source as he watches Will sit gingerly beside him. He lets out a heavy breath before he meets Frankie’s gaze, his brow lifting. “You okay, Fish?” Will asks, his voice full of genuine concern as he folds his hands in his lap.

Frankie offers a nod. “Yeah,” he tries his best to assure him, smoothing a hand over his hair before placing his hat back on his head. “I’m just glad that she’s alright. Anxiety attacks are terrifying.”

“Yeah, me too,” Will agrees, his gaze shifting out to the water. “It was scary for me to see her like that. I can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you.”

Frankie furrows his brow, his heart starting to beat a bit faster as he looks over at his brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Will looks back at Frankie, his expression of nonchalance never changing. “Well, you’re both really close, wouldn’t you say?”

Frankie looks between the water and Will’s gaze. “Uh—yeah, we are, I guess.”

Will remains stoic for one moment but crashes into soft laughter in the next one. He shoulders Frankie in a playful manner. “Fish, you’re a fuckin’ terrible liar.” Frankie can feel his eyes widening as Will raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re in love.”

Frankie’s mouth goes dry as he seeks some kind of response but can’t find one just yet. When he does, it’s incoherent. “I’m, I-I’m in—what?”

Will laughs again. “Don’t worry. She loves you, too. And that’s why you’re together. As you should be.” Will then offers a smile, one that isn’t cynical or threatening. It’s genuinely friendly and warm, as if Will’s been waiting for this to happen as long as Frankie has. Thinking about it, he probably has.

Frankie’s in such shock that he truly can’t speak, now. His lips are parted, but he can’t even begin to think of what he can say. He thought he and Luciana had been doing a good job at keeping things under wraps, but they must’ve slipped somehow. He guesses it was this morning. He wonders if Will’s the only one who knows.

But, just as any good brother would, Will practically reads Frankie’s mind as he continues on. “We all know—everyone except Pope, and I’m pretty sure that’s only ‘cause he’s in such denial of it happening that he refuses to see it.” When Frankie’s eyes only widen more, Will chuckles again. “It’s alright, Frankie. We saw this coming for years. It’s about damn time.”

Frankie finally thinks of something to say, swallowing hard as he tips his hat on his head. “How did you find out?”

Will looks out at the water, pretending to ponder greatly for an answer. “Let’s see.” He hums, and Frankie can tell it’s all an act as he chuckles under his breath. “Leaving all the parties together? Well, that’s just how you two are. No, it was probably when I saw you two dancing at the bar.”

Frankie nearly chokes on air and he feels his cheeks and neck burn red as he runs a hand over the skin there. “You, uh… you saw that?”

Will looks back over at Frankie. “Don’t worry, Frankie, I didn’t stop and stare. And I was mostly drunk. But how could I forget it? My long-time dream couple finally taking their first step together?”

Frankie shakes his head slightly, trying to hold back a smile that’s growing on his lips. “And you didn’t say anything?”

Will shrugs. “I thought you two would be all lovey-dovey after that, but you seemed… normal. So, yeah, I didn’t.”

Now, Frankie’s too curious for his own good. He furrows his brow as he faces his brother. “What else did you see?”

Will’s gaze drifts up to the sky as he thinks again. “I saw your looks at each other on the semi-formal night. I saw you dancing together there. I think that’s when I really, really knew.”

“And the guys did, too?”

“Oh, yeah. We all talked about it when you and Santi and Luci weren’t around. We wanted to help make it happen.”

Frankie feels a realization hit him as he sits up taller towards his friend. “You purposely made sure Luci was left alone in the house the day of my mom’s anniversary, and threw the party the night before graduation at Benny’s frat house so we could be alone, and covered our asses for Pope whenever we snuck away after that.”

Will nods once to agree. “Yep.” He pops the “p.” “And don’t forget the guesthouse.” He gestures towards the path in the woods with his finger, and Frankie can already feel his face turning more red than the color of Will’s swim shorts. “Going for a walk so early in the morning, huh? On the same trail as the guesthouse? What a coincidence.”

Frankie laughs a bit and sighs in defeat, nodding as he looks at Will seriously. “Yeah. We’re together.”

Will slaps a hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “It’s been a long time comin’, brother.” He then wrinkles his brow in concern. “But why’re you trying to be so secretive about it?”

Frankie lowers his voice, gaze falling to his hands as they play with the hem of his t-shirt. “Pope.”

“I figured. But… why?”

Frankie takes a deep breath, looking back up to meet Will’s gaze. “A little while before that night at the bar, Santi, he uh, talked to us. Luci and I. Separately, of course. But he told us that he doesn’t think we should be together because it’s too risky for the dynamic—you know, our family thing we got going on. He’s afraid that if something goes bad between Luci and I, it’ll tear us apart from him. So he made us promise not to get together.”

“And now, you’re together.” Will finishes the idea for Frankie and he nods. Will curses under his breath. “Shit. That’s a dick move on Santiago’s part.”

Frankie shrugs. “He’s just protective of his loved ones.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should have to hide your relationship in the fuckin’ shadows, Frankie. You two are made for each other. We’ve all known it since day fuckin’ one.”

“Then why do you think he made us promise that?”

Will shakes his head, looking at the lake. “Like you said. He’s probably afraid that the closer you two become to each other, the more you’ll drift away from him.” He looks back to Frankie. “He’s afraid of being alone, Frankie.”

Frankie understands that fear. He’s lived that life, experienced that feeling of being so utterly alone and abandoned in this world by everyone he’s loved. That’s why he can’t bring himself to be mad at Santiago, and that’s why he keeps bending to his will and keeping his love hidden.

“You gotta tell him eventually, Fish. He deserves to know. She’s his twin sister for God’s sake, and you’re the closest brother he has out of all of us.”

“I know.” Frankie feels the guilt from earlier resting heavily on his shoulders, now, a hand wiping down his face as he watches his feet kick in the semi-clear lakewater. “I just… now isn’t the time. We’re about to go to basic training and he doesn’t need this shit in his head while we’re doing all that.”

Will nods understandingly. “I get it, Frankie, I really do. But the longer you wait, the worse his reaction will be—especially when it comes to the guesthouse.”

Frankie’s eyes double in size. “He will not be told about the guesthouse.”

Will laughs at Frankie’s panic. “An unnecessary detail. Your secret’s safe with us.” Will places his hand on Frankie’s shoulder yet again, giving his brother another warm smile. “I’m real happy for you both, Frankie.” Frankie returns his brother’s smile. “Just make sure we’re in the wedding. Alright?”

Frankie burns red yet laughs, standing up along with Will as they walk back towards where Benny and Tom are seated in two of the Adirondack chairs. Benny tilts his sunglasses down his nose upon their arrival. “What were you two ladies gossiping about?” Benny jokes, causing Will to snort. “The fact that we know this man’s fuckin’?” He gestures to Frankie who just about adapts red as the permanent color of his face at this point.

“Now Benny, what did I tell you about reducing the state of their relationship to sexual intimacy?” Will retorts, raising his brow at his brother.

Benny blinks a few times at his brother. “Was that English?” he finally asks.

The guys laugh, and Will nudges Frankie’s shoulder again. He points up to the house. “You should go check up on her,” he says lowly. Frankie nods to agree, the ache for his lover still prominent in his chest as he starts off towards the pathway that leads to the house. “Tell Pope we’re ready for another round of tossin’ if he’s up to it.”

Frankie holds up a thumb in acknowledgement, refusing to do anything to slow his movements towards Luciana as he heads up to the house. Once he’s made his way inside through the sliding glass door, he sees Santiago standing by the fridge in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water that’s no doubt for Luciana. He doesn’t see her around, though, and he wonders where she’s gone.

“Hey,” Frankie greets gently, not wanting to startle his brother. Santiago looks at Frankie with eyes still panicked for his sister, but they relax a bit upon seeing Frankie. “How’s she doing? How’re you doing?”

Santiago shrugs as he closes the fridge door, resting the glass of water on the counter as he crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s alright, I think,” Santiago informs him. “Good enough to not want her twin brother fussing over her anymore.” Frankie chuckles softly at that, as does Santiago. He then grimaces, though, a sigh falling from his lips. “But she said it was because she’s worried for us, Frankie—all of us. That makes me feel like shit. I don’t want to have to leave her behind.”

Frankie’s own heart breaks apart at his words. “Me neither, Santi. None of us do. But she’s strong, and a moment like this doesn’t change that. I’m sure that once everything falls into place, we’ll all be a little more at ease.”

Santiago nods to agree. Frankie hates the way his brother seems so down and guilty still, so he walks towards him and holds out his arms, accepting him in a tight hug as he pats his back a few times for reassurance. No words are spoken as the two brothers share a moment of strength, trying to comfort each other over the same woman—to one a dear sister, and to the other a passionate lover. Frankie has a feeling everything will be okay even as he pulls away from the embrace, smiling at Santiago.

“Will said they’re ready for another round if you are,” Frankie informs him. “I can keep an eye on her if you want me to.”

Santiago returns his smile. “That’d be great, Frankie. She’s sick enough of me already.”

Frankie chuckles again, shaking his head as he takes the glass of water off the counter. Santiago steps outside and heads back down to the dock, and Frankie tries to compose himself for what’s to come as he looks around for Luciana. He assumes she’s upstairs, now, and so he heads in that direction with the water in hand. When he comes around the corner of her room, he gently raps his knuckles against the doorframe.

“Santi, for fuck’s sake, I already told you that I’m fin—.” Luciana cuts herself off when she sees Frankie’s image appear in her doorway. She’s since slid on a sweatshirt following the incident, her arms hugging over her stomach as she sits with her legs criss-crossed on the bed. Her brown eyes twinkle at his presence. “Frankie?”

He doesn’t speak just yet as he walks closer to her, setting the glass on the bedside table as he seats himself on the edge of her bed. He reaches a delicate hand to brush away a loose piece of hair from her face, and she leans into his touch without ever breaking his gaze. Frankie can feel his eyes softening at her. “You alright, baby girl?” he finally says, his voice so soft that he wonders if she’s even heard it.

But she must, since she offers a light smile in return. “I’m fine,” Luciana assures him, one of her hands covering the one he still has on her cheek. “I just… got a little too lost in my thoughts.”

Frankie shakes his head at her. “You don’t have to keep it all in here, Luce.” He takes his free hand to gently tap his finger against her temple, earning a larger smile from her. “You have me, too. And Santi. And your other brothers.”

Luciana sighs. “I know. I just don’t want to look…”

“… weak to them?” Luciana nods, and Frankie shakes his head again as he holds her face between his hands. “Luci, having anxiety like that and thoughts like those doesn’t make you ‘weak.’ It just proves how caring and protective you are over all of us. We’re all feeling the same things you are even if we’re not vocalizing them. You being able to say them aloud would prove that you’re actually much stronger than all of us.”

Luciana grabs one of Frankie’s hands to press a kiss to his palm upon hearing that. “Thank you.” Her voice is quiet but never falters, her mesmerizing gaze settling in Frankie’s as she continues smiling at him. “I love you, baby.”

Frankie beams and his heart warms at her endearment. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss against her lips, one so soft that it can barely be felt. He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers. “I love you way more.”

With those words, he wraps his arms around her and shifts his position on the bed, encouraging her to lean into him as he strokes her hair softly. Frankie hopes it can bring her even more peace that she so desperately needs right now—as does he. Yet, he also knows he needs to get his recent conversation off his chest and inform Luciana of what’s been said.

“By the way, Luce… the guys know.”

Luciana lifts her head momentarily from Frankie’s chest, her brow furrowed. “About what?”

Frankie’s eyebrow lifts. “Us.”

Luciana doesn’t even look surprised as she lets her head rest against his chest again. “Oh. Yeah, I figured.”

“You did?”

“We’re not very good at being secretive, Francisco.”

Frankie chuckles at that. “I guess you’re right, Luciana.” Luciana wrinkles her nose upon hearing her full name. “But… your brother deserves to know. Soon.”

“Like I said this morning, babe… all in time.”

Frankie nods to agree with that, planting a kiss in her hair before resting his chin against her head. He continues to stroke her hair as he closes his eyes, absorbing the touch and close intimacy while he still can. The future’s unclear as of now, between his flying and her working and whatever the hell Santiago’s gonna do when he finds out about this, but he knows one thing for certain: Luciana will always be there. “All in time.”

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie @charmantbarnes @theindiealto @fangirl-and-stuff @phoenixhalliwell @maybege @housekenobi @seawhisperer @mrsparknuts @saltywintersoldat @softpedropascal @i-hide-inside-my-head @sunshinepascal @domino-oh-damn @thirsty-flygirl

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin​ @mistermiraclee​

[millennial-star-gazer]

Tantric Flames: Chapter: 9

Tantric Flames

Nalu lovefest 2019 Prompts: Magic, Worship, Reckless , Forbidden and Cravings (All Implied)

Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction

Pairing:Nalu (Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You've been warned!)

Summary: One look, one smouldering hooded gaze, one word, one fiery kiss, one magnetizing touch was all he needed for her to completely unravel at his mercy alone, succumbing to the sinful temptation of her inhibitions, his love, his feral passion, his raw, insatiable desires, his "Tantric Flames". Originally an Submission for Nalulovefest 2017 (on previous accounts) in which Natsu gives his mate a tantric massage-after much persuasion- she won't soon forget when it turns into so much more. Also previously featured in Nalu lovefest 2018 (on current accounts) , as well as Nalu Week 2017, Nalu Fluff Week and Nalu lovefest 2017 (as stated) with first three chapters on my previous celestialgeekmage accounts . Chapter 7 was also an entry for nalu week 2019 and Chapter 8 for Nalu Lovefest 2019. ( Nalu-centric) (Slight Au).

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Chapter 9: Tempted by A Tantric Touch

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl Millennial StarGazer! This time I'm returning with another long-awaited installment of Tantric Flames. Once again, a major thanks to and koodos to @bmarvels, @mannyegb, @animezing-fandoms/princess-starry-night, and @allie-and-her-fandoms for helping me edit and further develop this chapter! Now without further ado, here's the story-enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!

(Note: Scroll down pas the keep reading button/ cut for the designated links, legend and actual chapter.  The tagging feature and keep reading button might not show up or fully work on the desktop site but should function just fine on the app and mobile version.

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1. Tantric Flames

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Chapter: 9          (Next Chapter ) (Coming Soon)

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Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized Word(s)

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

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"You run your fingers over every part of my body and tease me with your touch".

(Source Unknown)

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Oh God, those love bites. So many love bites that decorated the blonde's creamy skin like jewels; far too numerous to count that always sent a red-hot line fire rippling through her nerves with with every nip, every suck; each every and stroke of Natsu's velvet tongue. Plus, he's usually doing other things at the same time. Racy images of the couple's steamy moments together from the last soak flooded Lucy's mind.

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Flashback

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The celestial mage's back arching of its own accord into Natsu's touch from robust hands cupping her breast; Blazing digits kneading the twin peaks in time with lips sucking along Lucy's pulse with so much skill that she couldn't help the heady moan that escaped her throat.

"Ya feel that, Luce?" Nastu growled in his princess's ear, the dark undercurrent of his territorial voice pulling a tingly shiver from her. "My marks all over that perfect body of yours— and not just the permanent one when you swore your heart to me . All of those are symbols of my essence, my claim, my love. That you belong to me and me alone. My mate and queen, forever and always. And those sounds you're makin'? Hot as hell."

Pretty sure, dude leaves marks on me as his way of announcing to the world I'm off limits as his mate. Explains why he's always quick to leave a fresh one in its place even after I cover them— not that I'm complaining. Plus, it's not only for his benefit but mine. It's great that he knows how much I love receiving hickeys and gets off from it.

Seriously, what more could I ask for?

Not to mention how lovely it always was to unwind with Natsu after each bath. The wizard was often keen in his offer to dry the blonde's damp hair with a towel or fire-magic-powered steam; from her perch on his lap or between his legs. 

Much more relaxing than using a hair dryer if you ask me.

 The dragonslayer would sometimes even hum or sing a familiar tune from days past in that appealing, gravelly baritone of his; would usually lull the already-zen mage into the world of dreams when combined with the sooth dual sensation of fingers combing through her hair, .

"I tell you, I tell you, the dragonborn comes ..."

Anyother guild member who might be eavesdropping, however, would often be quick to lightheartedly goad the blonde mage ( much to her chargin). Natsu no doubt would find this hilarious of course; which would serve for Lucy's cheeks to flush an even deeper shade of crimson than she already was.

"Say Luce, is that a blush I see?" he once crooned, a teasing edge to his words; though the affectionate mirth sparkling in his eyes warmed her heart just a little. "Aw, is my girl a little embarrassed? That's okay though— makes ya all the more adorable and endearing than you already are. You want me to make it all better? Cuz I can! Got plenty of kisses! Come on, you know you want some which I'm more than happy to give. God I love ya' so much, you know that?"

It's amazing really... Lucy ruminated in fond awe. How Natsu can switch between the different roles and sides to him with relative ease. From Romantic and tender to dominant, playful and affectionate; then back again on top of everything else all seemingly at the drop of a hat. All an innate part of his overall nature I guess— essentially what makes up who he is. Some people may find this a bit confusing to keep up with— but I don't. Just makes him all the more complex.

Though those people would also be right when they say that the dude still has a devious streak, she couldn't help but add with wry smirk. Even with me, though never with malicious intent. German suplex, non-stop tickling, dumping me in a tub of freezing cold water during one of our baths— too many pranks to count really. At least he's always quick to follow up with plenty of affection ever since we became an item— can't complain about that."

"You ready to get started Lucy?" Natsu's keen voice broke through Lucy's reverie.

"You know it!" The celestial mage chirped, unable to mask the pure enthusiasm in her voice; earning an amused chuckle from the dragon wizard . "Can't wait. I take it you'll be hoarding me for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Mhmm" Came his content hum in response." That really a bad thing, though?"

"No, definitely not."

"I figured. Why don't we get you up on that massage bed?"

"Sure thing!"

A buzz of anticipation was practically thrumming in Lucy's blood from such tantalizing implications of his words; the stunt Natsu pulled next , though— that was what really shot a thrilling jolt up her spine.

"Let's finish what we started later, yeah?"

The dragonslayer's proposal was punctuated by a light tap on the summoner's ass for good measure,; which resulted in a delighted squeal.

"O-okay!" was said female's response in the form of a breathy giggle.

"Let me get you that towel while I'm at it."

"Sure— thanks."

"My pleasure."

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A Few Minutes Later

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"Ugh...do me a huge favor and burn this towel. Will ya?"

Lucy couldn't help but let out an audible groan along with the heat rising in her cheeks. Good god was the particularly moist spot on the white towel a truly mortifying sight to behold. Basically tell-tale remnants of liquid arousal that had been wiped clean from her legs just moments before.

Mavis only knows what would happen if Levy or Cana noticed during laundry duty.

" Okay... why though?" Natsu questioned, brows drawing together in mild confusion. "As in why do you want me to?"

"Guild Laundry day" came Lucy's automatic reply."That's why."

"Not following ya.' Natsu blinked owlishly in uncomprehension.

"Levy…..and Cana….." Lucy supplied, a finger twirling an errant strand of blonde hair in :a self-conscious display." "I... uh.."

"Still don't know what you mean here, Luce."

"It's their turn to do laundry duty." She attempted to break down what was apparently such an abstract concept into simpler terms; not able to help the aggravation rising in the back of her mind.

"Yeah? So?"

"They'll probably see the moist stain on the towel." Lucy clarified, forcing her voice to remain level.

"I see— don't see the problem though."

"Think about who'll most likely be with them ."

"Gajeel and Laxus but…...ahh—"

Realization dawned on Natsu's face. "I get it now. What you're saying is that they'll probably catch a whiff of your arousal? "

"Well, the lingering remnants of the scent anyway. Seriously though?" he tacked on, lifting a questioning brow."That's what you're worried about?"

"Yeah... I am," Lucy admitted, nerves leaking into her voice. "Aren't you?"

"Not really, no." Natsu gave a shrug of his shoulders—seemingly unfazed.

"Why's that?" Lucy couldn't help but shoot him a puzzled glance. 

"Cuz it'll show everyone how much I rocked your world." Natsu replied, flashing his mate a cheeky grin. " And what's not to love about that?"

"Pervert — of course you'd say that!" Lucy screeched, skin flushing a deep shade of crimson.

"That's me!"

"Ugh, still don't know what to do about the moist spot— those four are never gonna let me live it down."

"You know if you're that worried, I could always use my tongue to clean ya up instead." Natsu drawled with a lazy smirk that set her heart all pit-patter .

"And of course, you'd suggest that," Lucy quipped with a slight roll of her eyes. "Did I mention how much of a horn dragon you are? "

"Yeah, but only for a certain gorgeous blonde of mine and she loves it."

"Oh, she does, huh?" Lucy raised a challenging brow.

"Yep. Don't bother trying to deny it, Luce".

"Ugh fine... you're right. I do. Seriously, you and your colossal ego though."

"Why, thank you! If you're impressed by that, you'd really should see my co—"

The rest of Natsu's words were cut off by Lucy's hand swatting him with a pillow which was met with a snicker.

"Pervert" Lucy deadpanned with another eye roll. "By way, you would've found yourself in the proverbial dog house if you actually meant the other kind of 'fighting earlier."

Only for Natsu's face to instantly fall in response to her statement.

"What?" Natsu objected, gaping at her with wide eyes. " And deprive me of the chance to wake up to your beautiful face each morning for that long?!"

"Yep." Lucy gave a nod by way of reply.

"But why? You know that's not the type of fightin' I met!"

"Well yeah, I know that now. But not earlier when you originally brought up. Just be glad that you didn't bail on our date earlier."

"I didn't though! And never would— honest Luce!" Natsu's voice lifted into a petulant whine.

"Hmm.. Okay, good to know. " Lucy responded, raising her hands to placate him. "Though you'll have to be without me for a few days anyway.

"Wait, seriously?" Natsu faltered , bewildered panic flashing in his eyes. . "Come on! What is it this time?"

"Camping retreat in the woods next week that Cana, Mira, Lisanna, and Erza are organizing— ladies only."

"W-ha?" Natsu continued to sputter, his poor brain no doubt short circuiting by now." But Elfman said that it was open to anyone who's free to go!"

"Really? Lucy mused in thoughtful interest. "That's not what I heard... huh."

"What am I supposed to do without you?"

"How about something fun with the guys? Should be nice, right?"

"Yeah, but so is spending time with you Lucy! It's always more fun when we're together like you said."

"And I don't disagree. Doesn't change anything though. The trip's still happening."

"Didn't say it wasn't but it'd still suck here without you! Natsu moaned, that desperate sense of longing bleeding into his voice. " I'd miss ya' too much! So would our little buddy! Can't we tag along? Maybe Even share an air mattress in a decent-sized tent? I'd gladly help set up and keep you cozy in my arms at night."

"What about Happy?" Lucy questioned, intrigued by his suggestion. His offer does sound really tempting.

"Obviously he'd share the tent with us but would have his own sleeping bag and could hang with Wendy and Carla whenever we wanted alone time. Plus there are all these cool spots I could take you to on nature hikes!."

"Sounds great."

"Course it is! So whaddya say? You onboard?" Natsu wheedled, flashing her what could only be described as the most flawless puppy eyes she'd ever seen.

"Aw that's really tempting and" Lucy gushed, heart contracting at the adorable pout he was throwing in too. Normally I'd say yes"— but it'll have to wait. Thank you though! I'd love to take you up on that offer another day."

"Oh come on— please I wanna go!" Natsu huffed,stamping his foot as if he were a child pitching a fit over being denied a coveted toy- quite an amusing display to say the least.

"Not this time I'm afraid. Sorry, them's the brakes."

"Lucyyyyyyyyy!" Natsu whined again, dragging the syllables of her name with such melodrama that she finally decided to let him off the hook

" Jeez.. enough with the dramatics already. " Lucy yielded with an exasperated groan, You can still come— the trip is for everyone. I was only kidding after all."

Said confession was met with a noise of stunned dimsay from from the pyro.

"Wait... so ya' mean to tell me that this was a joke?! he muttered, voice coming out with a small pinch of disbelief. "You were pulling my leg the entire time?"

"Yep— consider it payback for me making think you were gonna ditch earlier."

"That's why? That's not nice, Luce— not very nice at all." Natsu grumbled, though not with any real heat.

"Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?" Lucy baited, a daring lilt to her words.

" Oh —- wouldn't you like to know?" Natsu rumbled, eyes sparking in a such a calculating way that it sent a electrifying chill down Lucy's spine.

"I would— ngh! Nastuuuu!"

The rest of what Lucy was attempting to say Lucy's words were cut off by the lighting- fast sweep of Natsu's velvet tongue up her thighs . Not to mention that electric high-voltage jolt of ecstasy flooding her veins.

"There! that should show ya!" Natsu let out a cackle of glee. " Not to ever play dirty tricks on a dragon I mean. Guess you're not gonna need that towel after all, huh Lucy?"

"My God..."

"Yeah, I know . Just that amazing with my tongue, I guess. Natsu purred, voice laced with am indecorous promise "Plus, hearing ya' scream my name like that just gave me another hard-on that I'd love for you to see .. "

"Jeez … of course it'd would . and no real shocker that you would say something like that."

"Yep- you know me so well, Luce. and it's not like you're complain' anyway. Want me to prove it?"

" Maybe.. But God- you're such a pompous ass, you know that?"

"Yeah but all part of my charm, sweetheart."

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A/N: And that's Chapter 9 folks! My apologies for the delay by the way! I originally wanted to post this much sooner but got hit with writer's block after getting a somewhat stumped on a particular segment of this chapter. I've also been with my other ongoing fanfics, WIPs and responsibilities among other things in my life . That all aside, at least this chapter was finally posted! Now please feel free to do me a solid and let me know what you think by leaving a comment/ review! Stay tuned for Chapter 10 too! Oh and please feel free to check out the rest of my writing which can be found above, on my profiles and in master post if reading this on tumblr. All right, that's pretty much all I have to say for now! Thanks to all my mutuals/friends, readers and followers for their continuous support over the years! (Corresponding links for the master of my writing and profiles can be found above, in the navigation bar of the desktop and bio if reading this on tumblr.) Until next time-take care!

[hecohansen31]

To Kill A King

Ivar+Saxon Princess! Reader

The Faithful Wife

I know that I can survive Outside this cage Maybe now I can fight through All this rage

“To Kill A King” by Hungry Lucy

First Chapter (1)

Second Chapter (2)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I wanted to first of all say that... THIS IS SHIT!

This is an extremely filler chapter, as in... it was supposed to be more long, reaching another point to the one I chose, but I lost my inspiration halfway through, plus I do think that if I had kept it longer I would have probably just annoyed you, hence I thought I would break apart the chapters!

Still I hope you won’t hate me for how I decided to end things and as always: my inspirations comes from receiving feedback, so if you want to share your thoughts/opinions just do it!

It’ll absolutely make me feel a lot better, plus they go straight up to my heart and never fails to brighten my day!

SUMMARY: Life in an arranged wedding isn’t easy, even more when your ‘beloved husband’ does everything he can to annoy and ignore you.

WORDS: 16, 8 K

WARNINGS:  Arranged Marriage, Mention of Domestical Abuse and Rape, Violence (Strong Themes), Sexual Harassment, Slavery, Historically inaccurate.

You were lightly woken up by two hands shaking you awake, as you slowly took in the coldness of your room, confused by it, usually handmaidens always made sure to have your room warm solely for you.

But as your eyes were awaken enough to focus on something, you realized this wasn’t your room.

And the hands that were shaking you to wake you up weren’t your handmaiden’s.

They were Ivar’s.

Surprise and shock must have shown on your face and he lightly backed off, although his glare was directly set onto you, waiting for you to simply open and close your eyes a few times before he spoke.

“… my brothers they’ll soon be there…” you mind still didn’t link it at all “… it would be more proper for our play if the found you in bed with me”.

You simply nodded, meanwhile you tried to calm yourself, getting your wedding dress clumsily away from your body as you moved towards the bed, more out of search of warmth than because you were following Ivar’s rules.

Certainly, your sense of pudor wasn’t working in that moment, hazed by sleep.

Ivar let you slid in first, a way to make you feel more comfortable as you were attentive to the blood stain in the middle of the mattress, shifting away from it, as you slipped under the warmth of the furs and Ivar did the same, at first pulling himself in a seated position, and then lifted off his legs, pushing one after the other onto the mattress.

You stared at him captured by the way he moved.

It was something that fascinated you: he was definitely stronger than he let in showing new abilities that brought you to admire him more.

And your eyes couldn’t certainly hide their interest for the way his muscles flexed lightly.

Ivar then brought the blanket onto both your heads, and you were glad that it allowed you two a bit of darkness, covering your blush for the acute exploration of his body you had delved into a few minutes before.

And it didn’t take long to hear a few screams from the outside, mostly males, and you couldn’t help but hide more as Ivar shouted back to them, something that you didn’t understand so you thought were curses.

But soon the tent flapped open, revealing various smirking males, as Ivar lowered the blanket from both your heads, showing him and you as you lightly shifted closer to him, uneasy at so many new faces, although you remembered a few from the feast.

“… brother come on don’t be shy!” muttered Hvitserk, as Ubbe had a similar wolfish look in his eyes, but you quickly noticed that Bjorn, the big bear was missing.

Heahmund was also there, looking out for your face as you calmed softly yourself to try to appear as a bride after her first night, although you soon remembered that you were also a fearing and beloved daughter of God.

The soft smile disappearing on your face for a chaste and constipated expression.

“We’ve all seen your naked ass” retorted beside him Ubbe, and you were thankful they were teasing Ivar and not you, although he was slowly growing stiff right next to you “… c’mon brother you know that it is only a formality”.

But as your mind became more awake, you soon realized that they were all looking at Ivar expectantly, ready to humor his failure, which they took as granted.

Flashbacks to the previous night brought you the knowledge that maybe… just maybe they knew that Ivar couldn’t…. complete the action.

And they would beam in his inability.

Which you couldn’t help but frown upon.

Katherine and Abigail would tease you all the time, but it was done in a gracious way that would always make you smirk, in the end.

Not tighten your jaw, as Ivar was doing, meanwhile Ubbe moved forward and after he waited for a slight nod from you, he raised the blankets away from you both.

The coldness of the room suddenly hit you, and you leaned lightly against Ivar, him even going a step further as he drew you closer with an arm, as if to shield you, for which you were grateful since you were suddenly aware of your naked legs, left uncovered by your tunic.

No man, not even your father had seen you in such an undressed state.

And now a load of them were.

Ubbe searched the mattress and then he found the stain.

Surprise shone onto his face as if he hadn’t expected the presence of blood and he shot you both a confused look to which Ivar replied to with a smug smirk, softly grabbing onto your lower waist, in a show of possession that brought you to shiver lightly.

“Brother did they…?” Hvitserk left it unsaid and Ubbe turned to nod, again moving to you and Ivar one last shocked look, as you tried to stand taller.

“We did it, brothers” Ivar replied, again that smug smirk of supremacy on his face as he adjusted better on the bed “… now will you leave us alone, won’t you?”

The brothers stood a bit clumsily in the room, their tall frames almost too big for it in a way that made you almost laugh.

“Let’s leave the happy couple to their rest, now that we have proved that the wedding is legal” replied softly Heahmund, probably sensing your distress, for which you thanked him with a small look on his way as Ivar turned his back to them, trying to move back to sleep, in an obvious fake attempt to ignore all the ‘witnesses’.

Soon they all left the room, following Heahmund’s suggestion and giving you a moment of privacy as servants brought in some of your trunks for which you were thankful, because the tunic you were wearing wasn’t as covering as your usual nightgown, and alongside the trunks, new clean water was brought.

The basin you had used to clean your hand stood unused at the top of the table but the blood in it made it definitely too dirty to be used.

You were thankful as the servants brought it away, without any questions.

Ivar got away from bed, awake like you, but left you the little private room to change as you chose a quick dress, something that you wouldn’t need to help of servants to put on, well aware that you couldn’t do much without them.

The dress you chose was simple, not proper for your princess’ status but you would wear it whenever you hoped to pass off as discreet and for something comfortable: it had a first gown of white fabric and one of heavier fabric onto it of a darker color, all linked through a series of hooks.

And the behind of it had threads that just needed to be nodded together in order to obtain a tighter silhouette in a way that, according to Abigail, brought out your waist… and breasts.

You mostly liked it because it didn’t have a corset and it wouldn’t crush your chest and lungs, allowing you fuller movements, not heaved down by the richness of the jewels that decorated your most lavish gowns.

As you slipped on the gown, you moved onto wearing some leather boots, again a comfortable attire unsure of what Ivar would have you doing, today and trying to minimize the time you spent undressed.

Although the knowledge that Ivar wouldn’t take advantage of you calmed you a bit, you still felt uneasy being undressed in a room with another man, aware that he might come out of the bath anytime and catch you naked.

Although he wasn’t a simple man.

He was your husband.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of the small ring you were wearing the band plainly attached to your skin, as it shone of light silver through the sun filtered by the tent.

It wasn’t simple, having a light decoration on it, a serpent eating its tail, in a circle.

You tried to remember where you had seen a similar drawing but again, sleep clouded it and soon Ivar appeared on the bathroom threshold, breaking you away from your thinking as you quickly closed your trunks, trying to shield Ivar from seeing the small knife your father had given you.

It hadn’t been there in your trunks when the servants had prepared them, and the shock of seeing it gave you a thrill.

You father had talked of you as a spy among the heathens, not a murder.

It went against your nature as a fearful Christian and your own nature as a timid and fragile woman.

As soon as you had caught the sight of the weapon, you had immediately hidden it under some rich fabric, hoping that Ivar’s guards wouldn’t go through them meanwhile you were away, locking them properly as Ivar approached you.

Once you were done you turned to him, waiting to know more, since he had been the one who had directed your threads since you had come there, and would forever do soon till death did you apart.

But Ivar promptly went past you as if you were a ghost, not even deigning you of a glance, as you obtained one solely as your hand shout out for one of his arms, making him turn to you.

He seemed almost bothered, not the smug boy who had cuddled you closer to his chest just a few minutes before.

He was certainly a good actor.

“… I… what am I to do?” you mumbled, immediately regretting your silly words, sounding too much as a plead as  irritation was written all over his face “… we are married, we should enjoy married life”.

You tried to sweeten your words as much as you could, your hands lightly caressing his arms, something that you had dreamed to do since you had first seen him, finding them as muscled as you had believe them to be, throbbing under the strength he used to keep himself upright.

“… you might as well, wife of mine” his tone had something sickly sweet that made you quickly understand he was teasing you “… I am the leader of an army, I don’t have time for such thing as ‘enjoying life’, we are going back to Kattegat in four weeks, enjoy the time in the camping”.

You couldn’t help but be lightly stung by his words as you lowered your head nodding, leaving your grip as he moved away, two guards appearing on the threshold, one following Ivar outside and another remained on the threshold an obvious show that he would be staying with you.

You sent him a smile, although in your heart burned the humiliation Ivar had put you through.

He talked about respect but treated you like that.

How could you trust him?

Thankfully you weren’t left to your own devices for long, because you heard a miscellaneous language of Saxon and Norse, and then your sister Kathleen peaked in the tent, sending you a worried look, and in that moment slow tears streamed down your face and she bolted to you, almost throwing you down onto the bed.

“… (Y/N)!” she cheered as Abigail joined you, with no less energy and effectively sending your body to smash onto the bed, covered again by furs to hide the blood for which you were grateful “… you are still alive and smiling, oh sweet sister!”.

“Was he gentle?” went straight to the point Abigail, her eyes curious as she set up on her heavy dress, coming closer to you “... his brothers told us, that you did… your marriage was consummated”.

Immediately Katherine searched your eyes as you clutched your hands tighter on your lap, as a blush creeped from your neck to your cheeks, and you sent a quickly look to the confused guard, probably not understanding the giggles of three women.

Katherine realized what you were thinking about and she lightly shook her head.

“He doesn’t know Saxon don’t worry”.

“We didn’t… consummate the marriage” you talked too fast to make it impossible for the man to even understand you had spoken “… he told me we would never…”.

“Then it is true that he can’t get it up!” replied immediately Abigail, making you and Katherine quickly shut her up as you both sent the guard a small look, checking on him whether he had understood but he just looked at you vaguely, wondering what you were talking about.

“… I don’t know… we didn’t talk… I didn’t ask” you couldn’t help but calm yourself lightly “… he asked me respect him as a husband and he would do the same with me, as his wife”.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Katherine’s tone was piercing, and she slowly took your hands, clutching them together as you send them a protesting look “… we could still run, live in the woods as we joked when we were children”.

“We wouldn’t last a day, Katherine” you had trouble simply dressing yourself up, and this would mean to ruin the peace your wedding had created “… I would, believe me I would love nothing more, but this is my life now, and I better start liking it”.

“I just… I just wished it wouldn’t have been you” you held an hand out to Abigail who had spoken softly.

Although she didn’t have the protectiveness that belonged to Katherine, she knew how to sweeten everything with her gentle personality, something which brightened softly your smile as you led them in a quick hug.

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to live without you” you had lived with them all your life, they had been the sole friends you had had, too awkward and shy to attempt a smile or a smirk at anyone that wasn’t your family.

You couldn’t believe in a life without them.

“… we don’t either” mumbled Katherine, tears seeped in the deep fabric of your dress, but you felt like it was some kind of badge of honor.

“Can’t think that I won’t have you waking me up, whenever I run late” replied instead Abigail, making you laugh through tears “… you aren’t gone for ever still, are you?”.

You hoped you wouldn’t, but with the knowledge that you would be going back to their original land you couldn’t see a reason for you to go back to your kingdom, another time.

But who knew? By then you might have charmed your husband.

And donkeys would have flown.

“… we are never ever leaving each other, although we may be apart, oceans away, we are never away in each other’s heart” as you said so your hands linked to their hearts, feeling them rush as they slowed down calmed by your words.

They both smiled softly, and before they could hug you again you heard a distinct cough and found bishop Heahmund and Hvitserk looking at you, expectantly in a clear way to tell you that your time had come to an end.

And you slowly let go of their hands, your eyes teary as well as those of your sisters as they collected themselves calmly, turning around to face with neutral faces Hvitserk and Heahmund, the bishop trying to smile to brighten the mood, although he himself was lightly moved by the scene.

Katherine sent you one last look, blowing you a soft kiss as Abigail, gripped her hand, understanding she had to be her rock, for the time being.

Hvitserk still stopped your sisters before they could completely exit the tent and you worried suddenly for a minute, scared that they might have discovered something, but then he moved something from behind him, revealing the sword your sisters had gifted Ivar, adding a quick whisper in Norse you caught, and with a small smile you translated.

“He says that prince Ivar saw the way you looked at the sword, and that he wouldn’t dare to steal it from you after he has already stolen a sister” the entire discourse was grim, but you couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture Ivar had done.

Katherine had loved the sword from the moment it had come out of the furnace, looking at the polished metal as it elegantly swished against the air when she handed it so so carefully, attentive to avoid hurting anybody around her.

Father had given Katherine a military and weaponry training but had never allowed her to own a sword, knowing perfectly well that this would have put Katherine in an upheld position, almost as his equal, and your father hated with all his heart to be overtaken.

That’s why he had tried to keep desperately his children beneath him, training and educating solely his heir, meanwhile he left his other daughters ignorant, having them treated as perfect ladies, left in the hands of unknown governesses, pushed in small corsets and tight dresses.

He had made you and Abigail grow up as perfect wives and mothers.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Not to be heard or feared till they were useful.

As in your case.

You sent one last look at Katherine, who nodded lightly and bowed to Hvitserk lightly, a dull excitement in her eyes as she exited alongside Abigail, casting you one last soft look, a wish of ‘happy wedding’.

Heahmund in the meanwhile walked around the room, taking in the stain of blood, rushing back to you as Hvitserk moved to accompany your sisters, leaving you privacy with the bishop although he shot him a direct glare to invite him not to try anything.

“… my princess, was the heathen…” he immediately rushed to ask, softly touching your body as you allowed him to do the same “… violent with you? I know the marriage was consummated, despite the rumors about your husband’s… inability”.

“He wasn’t” you lied, aware that you were lying to a man of faith “… it was… a quick matter and soon over”.

You didn’t know what to mumble, not being experienced on that matter and having to formulate some kind of rational discourse on it.

You ran through lady Claudia’s small talk of the previous day trying desperately to find something that might convince him of your relationship with Ivar.

“… he wasn’t too rough with me and it hurt just for a bit” you replied softly, keeping your voice in check to hide the lie better “… he was careful and attentive”.

“That doesn’t seem the Ivar I met on the battlefield” he commented tightly and you were worried it might have given out your lie “… but I am glad that he has a softer side for his rightful wife, my princess, you have quite charmed him”.

You nodded your head simply, as you tried to avoid saying too much that might give you out.

“… I now have to get your sisters back to security but I’ll be back before nightfall, please be attentive and safe, my princess” you almost wanted to protest there and then that you were in danger because of them, not because of any of your action.

If you could, you would be in a convent with your precious books and your sisters beside you.

But again, you nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed as Heahmund gave you a soft kiss onto the palm of your hand.

As Heahmund exited the tent, Hvitserk came back in it, and took a quick look at you, which you returned shyly but questioning, wondering whether you would be allowed outside the tent or Ivar would keep you as a mighty dragon, storing you as a treasure.

But at least that would mean he thought you were precious.

“Is everything alright, princess?” although Hvitserk had a teasing smile on his face, the way he talked seemed genuinely concerned “… feeling cold?”.

You weren’t properly cold but you had shrunk back into yourself, clutching your hands around your body in a tight hug more to comfort yourself as the feeling of loneliness set in your heart.

“A bit” you justified yourself as the man moved closer, something that made you back lightly on the bed, suddenly making you realize that you were in a cove of enemies, and although your brain wanted to do nothing more than to trust anyone, your common sense advised you against that.

“We should get you some better clothes” he mumbled looking at your flimsy dress, certainly not the highest example of style, but it was comfortable and easy to put on, not necessarily warm still, and you weren’t used to exiting the castle, at least without an heavy coat of woolen, which would stop the coldness “… in Kattegat is cold and we don’t need you to get sick at your first Winter there”.

And Hvitserk had guided you outside to the small market brewing in the camping, surprising you for the organization of the entire structure, making your eyes widen as you took in the sight of the exchange between cultures.

You had worn a light cloak that Hvitserk had lent you, which was a bit too long sometimes entwinning in your legs, and you were grateful you hadn’t worn a more complex gown.

Extremely grateful it would avoid you from falling face first in the mud.

Your eyes darted over the small stalls, as Hvitserk chatted cheerily with anyone who stopped him, all the people around you staring discreetly at you in a way that almost made you want to hide your face with the hood of the cloak.

You were well aware that half of them had witnessed your marriage to Ivar and your different traits wouldn’t certainly pass unobserved, but you had hoped to attract less attention this sudden.

You tried to shift your attention on the small trinkets that were sold, being extremely interested by the creation of the blacksmiths, beautiful jewels and small statues, relatively more modest than your jewels but they held a particular fascination for you.

As the man saw you staring at his creations, he puffed out his chest but kept his distance as Hvitserk graciously took your arm to guide you away, pushing you onto a stand that smelt… horridly.

Furs weren’t much in vogue in your court, since they were thought to be vulgar and popular, mostly if not properly treated, and you could understand since the smell wasn’t pleasant and you had to take a deep breath as Hvitserk calmly talked with the lady who was taking care of stalls.

She was a small old lady, her hands worked through years of treating furs, in a way that made them extremely wrinkly but beautiful for the stories they told, almost a thread of magic and skin.

She smiled at you, with no knowledge of your status, with a warmth that seemed damnably familiar and homely and you just smiled back as the woman moved to collect a few furs from behind his stalls as Hvitserk told you her name was Hilde and she had been working furs since she was as small as she was now.

‘She is the best! You’ll be warm don’t worry”.

You were thankful for Hvitserk’s cheery and mindless tone, since it helped you focus your mind away from Ivar’s rejection and your sisters’ departure.

As Hilde came back, she held two beautiful furs in her hands: one was smaller, having an orangey color tending lightly to red, a color which complimented your skin according to Abigail.

It was probably made out of fox fur and it had be linked into a cloak to protect the neck and the shoulders from coldness.

She pushed it onto your shoulder, having you bowed slightly for her in order to permit her to comfortably place it there, adjusting it with a few pins, in a provisory set up, before she pushed you next to the mirror in the stall, allowing you to set yourself.

You hadn’t seen yourself after the veil had been pushed on your face since Ivar’s room didn’t have any mirror, and you couldn’t help but follow for a minute your profile with your eyes.

You found it changed from the anonymity you always saw in the mirror, almost as if you were now looking at every stain or spots in your skin, almost wanting to dig your fingers in the skin to find out if it were you.

You were brought down from your inner thoughts by Hilde, asking if you liked the first piece, and as you nodded, she exchanged the first piece with a fuller fur, completely covering your frame, weighting heavily onto you, but its warmth was very much appreciated as it hugged tight keeping you calm and sated.

Hilde lightly pulled on the end of the dark furs, painted lightly with red reflexes something which shone even brighter in the light.

“They are both beautiful!” you exclaimed, honestly heard in your tones as the small woman smirked happily at you, twirling in her comfortable leather shoes, as she went back to show you more, eventually filling you with also leather corsets and a few cloaks, this time, of your height.

You couldn’t help but see the total pile up in front of you, almost worried about how you would pay it.

Your father had gifted you with a few coins to help you mostly in case anything happened to you, but you didn’t feel like letting Ivar pay for your dresses, because it made you uneasy to depend on him.

Although you saw no other solution.

As you asked Hilde to start choosing what you truly needed and you didn’t, she stopped you, baffled and almost offended, as she put her hand on her chest.

“… these are gifts for the future queen” she explained slowly, each word being spitted out with its pure meaning, making you open your eyes wide, not solely for the mention of the word ‘queen’.

“I can’t accept this, Hilde! It is too much!”.

As a princess you were used to gifts of any kind, but you felt like stealing from this people, taking away their precious goods without any retribution.

You didn’t have a high enough place there to do such a thing.

These people weren’t the cruel and calculating spies of the courtiers that populated your reign, they seemed genuine and gentle.

It felt like taking advantage of their gentleness.

“… take it, sweetheart” her voice was gentle, pushing the furs in your hand as you shook your hand and Hvitserk gently helped Hilde with the furs, murmuring something in Norse too fast for you, but the woman seemed to calm, taking the furs from you “… let me have the honor of gifting some of my masterpieces to the future queen”.

Again, you were confused and embarrassed by the mention of you as a ‘queen’, but nodded softly thanking her and letting Hvitserk handle everything else, since you felt like you were a complete stranger to these traditions.

He contracted swiftly with the old woman, who mumbled something about sending you the furs in your tent, so you didn’t have to carry them for the entire city.

“… thank you” you mumbled one last time, meeting her determined stare, as she moved towards you a bit too close for comfort and  gently pulled on your cloak to make you lower yourself.

“You are more special than you think, little one”.

You were almost thankful when Hvitserk dragged you away, feeling lightheaded by the way the woman had talked to you.

As you were again in the crowd, Hvitserk calmly spoke:

“I’ll Ivar drop some coins to her tonight or this afternoon, don’t worry” he promised, talking as if it was natural and you couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed.

“I can… I have some spare money” and jewels, too many for your liking.

“You belong in our family” he spoke again, as if it was natural to him as breathing, turning to you with a soft smirk “… you are my family now, so what is our is yours”.

The truthfulness of his words broke your heart in a way that made you feel even more ashamed for the spying your father had meant to do here.

“… thank you” you mumbled simply, moving further in order to let the crowd around you distract yourself, as you tried to shift your attention towards anything else.

The rest of the morning passed softly and without any true conversation, other than Hvitserk talking about various things about the culture, as you took a stroll around the stalls.

Hvitserk bought sweets he shared with you, meanwhile you were attracted by the beautiful sculptures of the gods, but didn’t dare to speak out loudly your interest, worried that they might try to offer you them again.

You didn’t want to take advantage of them.

And then Hvitserk’s eyes were caught by a beautiful girl, a cheery blonde dressed as a man, an obvious sign that she was a shieldmaiden, a female warrior.

He exchanged with the girls a few stares, enough to make you feel invisible and bothering him to the point where you suggested he just went to talk with her.

‘I won’t lose myself in the stalls’ in fact the small market had a clear end and it had started losing a bit of its original crowd, the warriors moving to eat and the merchants slowly starting to count the coins they had made.

You had also seen a bench where you could sit more comfortably and maybe hide even better.

“… are you sure?” as much as Hvitserk seemed taken by the girl he had a bit of difficulty letting you go, worry washing over his face and with the way he seemed so careless and lighthearted you could only think that it was because he had received direct orders from Ivar to keep you under his watch.

“Never make a lady wait” you taunted him and he sent you a soft smile, one you wished Ivar also owned, before he strutted off smirking devilishly at the woman, exactly as you imagined a young demon to do.

You waited onto the bench, your figure hidden further by your cloak in a sat position as you tried to think about a way to get information through Ivar, when he clearly didn’t want you between his toes.

You could try to sweeten him, but the proposal of spending time together as newlyweds had clearly made him on edge and you had no idea of how you could have your husband trust you when he barely let you in.

You felt that although you might parade yourself in your best dress Ivar would have still ignored you, which frustrated you more than you were open to admit.

You found comfort in thinking that you might have talked about it with Heahmund so that he might have told you what to do in these cases, what men might be interested in.

He seemed to be quite experienced in that ambit.

You knew that the ‘righteous warrior’ wasn’t so righteous once a woman appeared in front of him and once you and Father Peter had almost caught him with a desperate widow, him consoling her ‘properly’.

You weren’t sure how much Ivar and him might have in common, but you felt more comfortable talking with him than with Hvitserk.

He was the only link to your family now that your sisters were gone.

You were left from thinking about your dark thoughts, till a shadow loomed over you and quickly sat near to you, immediately catching your attention since you thought it to be Hvitserk.

But you were surprised to find that he was Harald’s brother, the man who had looked at you with pity in his eyes, at the wedding.

But now his eyes held a curiousness that made you shrink in yourself, as he lightly bowed his head to you, obviously trying to catch your attention.

“… princess (Y/N), I am so glad to have caught you alone, on this lovely day” his tone was definitely overly chatty, evidently a bit out of his comfort zone, something between the lines of cherry and insulting “… are you enjoying the market?”.

“Very much” you tried to keep your words curt and short “… I am sorry but I didn’t quite catch your name, yesterday”.

You knew better than to be the one who knew less about the other.

“Halfdan, Halfdan the Black” he spoke up, a proud smile, on his face as he turned to you not hiding the quick look of disdain in his eyes as they ranked over your body, almost making you feel naked “… the brother of Harald, king of Norway”.

You remembered his brother: he had tried to anger desperately Ivar, making him ashamed in front of everyone.

“Why ‘the Black’?” his nickname made your attention perk up as you raised up your head to look at him in the eyes, showing him that although you were nervous and embarrassed, you weren’t scared.

“I don’t think that it would be proper to talk about it with a lady” he muttered back, aggressiveness clear in his tone.

“I am not a lady, I am a princess” you spoke back, trying to keep your back straight as you kept looking at him in the eyes.

He seemed taken aback by your words: although your tone had kept itself mild, the words were piercing, almost as the gaze you shot him back.

“… I might start seeing why Ivar has chosen you” he mumbled under his breath “… did he choose you for your frisky character? Or for your pretty legs?”.

You were confused and a bit offended, mostly for his accusing tone.

Nobody would have talked to you like that straight up in your face, back home.

Maybe behind your shoulders, but you didn’t know how to react properly at such a facial invective choosing to just shoot him an incredulous look.

“You have no right to talk to me like that” you shot indignantly back, looking through the crowd for Hvitserk.

You had been aware that there might be some protests against you, but so direct and frontal…?

You weren’t expecting it.

“… they said that you consumed your marriage” he discarded your indignant reply, and his tone was even more teasing “…but we all know that your prince couldn’t…”.

“… my prince couldn’t what?” now embarrassment was written all over your face and your tone was raised lightly, your reply more emotional than you would have liked “… I suggest that you don’t finish that phrase”.

“I’ll teach you something, little girl: you can’t threaten an alley” but his tone seemed amused at your reply “… your husband knows of your fierce character, or is it only reserved for men who don’t call you, princess?”.

You couldn’t help but feel like that all these spiteful talk wasn’t exactly meant to be rightful or meaningful, but they were meant to distract you from the real argument.

So, you stopped taking in Halfdan’s words, and looked at him in the face, his secure behavior seemed out of place in a body that did all it could to shrink himself away from you, something you had done too many times, back in the day.

And you realized that he was also a second child, living in the shadow of his brother and everything that he did or said should have been linked to him.

You got up from the bench, effectively wanting to distance yourself from the huge man, who seemed taken aback from the sudden action, but he soon gave you a teasing smirk, expecting you to run.

But you stood your ground and spoke:

“Whatever your and your brother’s business is with my husband, I suggest you to quit these provocations, before they get too much for you to handle. You are a man not a child”.

And you were almost ready to be slapped, remembering perfectly how much a slap would sting your cheek, every time your father struck Katherine for speaking back.

You had never dared to, too scared to be able to raise your voice.

But you were in a different land, far away from your father, with a new master, but his leash at least was looser.

You were already cowering a bit away, your gaze set away from him to search for Hvitserk till a sincere laugh left Halfadan’s mouth.

“… that crippled bastard is luckier than he thinks” he replied softly, shooting you a sincere look.

“Halfdan!” Hivsterk’s voice surprised you, startling you but you were thankful to see him “… thank you for keeping company to my sister”:

The way he mumbled ‘sister’ was an obvious proof of his possessiveness and you were more than happy to hide behind him lightly, although Halfdan now had a sincere grin on his face, shadowed lightly by his hair.

“I had quite a nice time talking with her, don’t worry” he raised up quickly, moving away, through the crowd.

You let out a huff of breath as the man disappeared finally making you feel like you were allowed to relax, before you suggested, whispering it softly in Hvitserk’s ears:

“… may we go back to my tent, I am… tired”.

Although you had barely walked one meter, you felt emotionally exhausted and Hvitserk nodded, offering you gentlemanly a hand as he brought you back inside your tent.

That was enough outside world for the day.

---

You had spent the time in the tent improving your Norse, alongside Hvitserk, who would help you with the pronunciation and the writing, although he seemed much less versed than you had thought.

‘It was Ivar’s idea’ he had justified it, as he checked your writing of runes ‘… I am not exactly the smart brother, here’.

‘At least you are making me company’ you had grumped down in Saxon, before sending him a seraphic smile.

You had processed this way till lunch time, when Hvitserk’s stomach had started grumbling and you had smirked remembering Abigail: they would have probably stormed into a kitchen and stolen any food there.

And probably got stomachache with all the food.

‘Do you think that Ivar has eaten?’ you had asked softly, as you moved into the dining hall, the same one they had organized for your first meeting with Ivar, seeming less crowded than by night.

A few servants ran around taking care of what looked like the royalty of Vikings, and there you found Bjorn, the big bear, who sent you a roaring salute to which you bowed, again unable to wash away the sensation that everyone was looking at you.

‘I don’t think he has’ replied Hvitserk as you both sat down, and a brunette servant a few years younger than you brought you two plates with what looked like stew and smelt delightfully.

The small thrall looked at you, surprised but then moved away.

“Then maybe I should bring him lunch…” you were aware by the look that Hvitserk had sent you that it wasn’t a good idea, but you had just to go through every possible way to spend time with Ivar, and as he had denied you that morning, you hoped he wouldn’t do the same, now.

“… that is a rather nice idea…” Hvitserk spoke, his face already dripping in the stew “… but I don’t think that my brother would take kindly being interrupted”.

“I just want to try” you modelled your voice to be pleading.

You had learned through your courtiers that a pleading woman was always either an annoyance or a true attraction for men.

Either way they would surrender quickly.

And Hvitserk, probably warned to comply all your wishes and keep you safe and happy nodded his head, although his eyes shone dull, clearly not liking the job he had been given.

You let him finish his stew, not daring to stop him from his beloved food and then he accompanied you with a small tray of wood: your lunch and Ivar’s on it.

Hvitserk convinced Ivar’s guards to let you in, as you smiled prettily at the huge men, who simply looked at you almost as if you were nothing more than a flower they could crush under their shoes.

And as you sneaked past them, you again left a huff of breath.

It would have been a truly difficult thing to adapt your life to all those tall people.

Hvitserk still was stopped by the guards who pushed him with their chest back, effectively separating you from him.

He tried to fight back, more for his own virility than for you, but you shot him a comforting look.

You just hoped it would work also on you.

A guard gave you indication to find Ivar, he had recently finished an inking session and was elaborating some strategical plans.

Which meant that you could have also gotten some information.

And you did.

More than you expected.

You were frozen on your spot as you heard shouts in Norse, but instead of cowering away from the bullpen you moved closer, trying to be discreet, as you balanced the tray on one hand to raise your dress to secure you faster movements.

And then slowly you recognized the voice, Ivar’s unmistakable one and Ubbe’s, which surprised you because you weren’t honestly expecting a man like that to shout so furiously, but you kept your mouth closed.

“… you are overthrowing the natural order of things!” shouted the blonde prince.

“I am doing what father would have wanted to do! What you and Hvitserk don’t have the balls to do!”.

Ivar’s rage resembled the way he had spoken to you when the ring had been dropped.

You couldn’t help but be nervous with that side of him, but you tried to calm yourself with the thought that it wasn’t used against you.

“You are destroying our family! That’s the shit that you are doing!” replied promptly Ubbe, and you felt him move a heavy step forward “… just like you did with Sigurd!”.

The name caught your interest, but also the way Ivar replied, something being thrown against the door, definitely told you, it wasn’t something you should think about bringing up with him.

“… you always have to fucking tell me all this shit, don’t you?!” shouted back Ivar “… he was insulting my virility! Believe me I am…”.

“You aren’t” Ubbe’s tone was serious, damnably serious, having grown quieter suddenly, enough to make you hear Ivar’s deep intake of breath “… you never were, you are simply damnably prideful and ambitious and can’t see that it’ll break us apart, that it is already breaking us apart”.

A silence fulfilled the space between you two and you felt Ubbe shifting closer.

“… you are married brother, enjoy it” he continued on speaking “… I am sure that you haven’t even consumed your marriage, although the blo…”.

Another sudden hit of something against the wall made you uneasy.

Ubbe stormed away from the room and in his hurry almost crashed onto you, who were slowly turning to hide away yourself from them, and were secretly thankful when the man was more attentive to his sudden outburst, gently grabbing your trail, to let you adjust your dress.

“… didn’t see you there, sorry my princess” he commented, sending you a look to apologize “… what are you doing here?”.

“… bringing the lunch to Ivar!” you replied quickly, trying to hide any threatening intention.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea”.

“I don’t also think that it was a good idea to shout against him” you didn’t know where all this disobedience came from: you used to be the small little mouse who hid itself behind her sisters’ shadows.

But it seemed that you would need to use your teeth and nails for this.

“… you know nothing of this” he replied directly, and you knew you should have backed up, but you had dared more.

“I know that the marriage was consummated” you pushed back “… you know nothing about what happens in our bedroom and I suggest you don’t put your nose there anymore”.

Ubbe seemed shocked, exactly like Halfdan had been of your previous outburst, and then moved away muttering something darkly, as he moved away, almost bumping in the guards.

You collected yourself a minute, your own outburst leaving a light blush on your cheeks, but you hadn’t much time, and gently pushed your hair away from your face, the few strands that had come off from your lazy updo.

And then you knocked.

A gruff voice advised you that Ivar ‘wasn’t in the mood to talk with Ubbe, anymore’.

“It isn’t Ubbe, it is (Y/N)!” you thrilled happily, trying to make the atmosphere more relaxed.

And Ivar came quickly to you, opening the door with a tight expression, making you uneasy, but you kept your smile.

Your smile would have never been the summer typhon Katherine’s was, but you had to be satisfied with a small spring breeze.

“… wife” he muttered simply, but something in his had calmed down “… what are you doing here?”.

“I brought you lunch” you commented gently, holding up the tray and honest surprise shone on his face as you smirked softly at him.

He quickly took it from your legs, balancing it onto one of his crutches and almost closed the door in your face, before you added:

“I did think that we could have eaten together… maybe” or maybe not, from the startled look on your face.

And then your stomach grumbled loudly, and Ivar smirked, letting out a small laugh.

“Did they even feed you in your castle or are you simply a hungry beastie as Hvitserk?”.

Although the insult he opened the door further for you to slip inside.

“I’ll gladly pass over the fact that you just called me ‘beastie’ “ Ivar tried to complain that he meant it with affection, but you shushed him further, putting the trail onto the small table in the room, no paper or map anywhere on it, but you tried to seem at your ease “… and about the fact that you compared me to Hvitserk”.

“You are right” he replied pushing out a chair for you “… you are smarter”.

“Let me give you some matrimonial advice: don’t insult your wife” you replied, sitting down with a huge huff, making him smile cunningly at you as he sat on the other side of the table.

“… everybody seems so keen to give me marital suggestions” he mumbled, a cloud of annoyance appearing on his face “… but yours is good”.

Again, the intensity of his gaze made you divert your attention, all too happy to focus it on the food.

Ivar quickly did the same, and you couldn’t help but notice the ruthless way he proceeded to eat, in a voracious way you weren’t used to, and made you almost laugh at him, definitely feeling more at ease with your ‘messy eating’, one of the many reasons why you had been always kept away during the ceremonial dinners.

“… did you like it?” he asked, once your plate was finished.

“It was extremely delicious” you smiled at him “… I have never eaten something like that”.

Or so much.

Usually you were expected to leave at least half of the food in your plate, but this wasn’t the case.

“How did you find your staying in here?” Ivar’s words were careful and attentive, as if he was choosing the best ones “… did Hvitsersk show you around properly?”.

“He was a perfect company…” and immediately your hand shot out to his, making him raise his eyes at him, confused and startled, almost like a caged animal “… but I still wished it would have been you”.

“You don’t have to pretend” his voice was harsh enough to make you retreat your hand, almost burned “There is no need to fake feelings that you don’t have”.

“That isn’t true…” you spoke back “… I would just like for us…”.

But before you could utter more, another knock came from the door, pushing Ivar to raise up without sparing you glance.

And you tried to push down any kind of bad feeling for his rejection to look around the room, trying to see something out of its place, but as your room, it was in perfect order and Ivar soon came back, a wicked smile on his lips.

“Well well! My gift for you my lady has come!” he smiled brightly, gently pushing you onto your feet, and although his mood was strange, you followed the cheeriness of it “… would you like to see it?”.

And you had immediately nodded.

But as soon as you had seen the gift you had realized that maybe you should have been less cheerful.

Ten women were in your tents, their hands all bound together through a thick rope and their faces bearing some kind of bruises.

Only two of them were Vikings, meanwhile the others were Saxons, wealthy ones mostly by the clothes they were wearing: tattered and broken in some parts, but still expensive enough to make them daughters of local lords.

The one the Vikings had conquered.

“What is the meaning of this” you shouted turning to Ivar.

Was he playing some kind of joke on you?

He had told you he would respect you, but this all seemed as a damnable tease for you and your people.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t give you thralls, did you?” he replied, his tone truly ecstatic “… they are your people, so you’ll feel more comfortable”.

“This is not a gift for me” you spoke back, maybe more ardently than you should have, a dare in your tone “… this is an insult”.

Ivar’s smirk on his face completely lost itself and he turned to the guard holding the end of the robe bounding the prisoners, shouting something that seemed ‘get out’.

And then he turned to you.

He came a step closer to you than you would have liked, and you were well aware nobody was in the tent except you and him,

And you were well aware of what a scorned man could do to a lonely woman.

“… it is a gift and you should be thankful” he simply spat out.

“There are children in there!” you shot back, high on adrenaline.

A few of the slaves were barely older than Abigail and a few younger, two seemed only children and although you were aware that that wasn’t a problem for many people, it was for you.

“You are barely a child and were sold off so easily” the insult cut you deeper than you would have liked and you couldn’t help but take a small breath, shifting away from Ivar “… (Y/N), you know what I…”.

“Release the children” you spoke softly, your voice wavering a bit for the sadness you weren’t able to drown “… at least the children: you know they won’t be useful, and this is just cruel”.

“Maybe you don’t know it, but…” he replied quickly, shooting out to you, but you stopped him, gaining all your strength.

“…I know that you keep them as hostages, for their families, I am not that stupid, I might have been a child, but I am not an idiot” you retorted quickly and this time he was the one taken aback from your words, backing up and stumbling with his legs “… but this is not something that you can simply push off and onto me. That is my people, I won’t see them reduced to chains”.

“You all already are reduced in chains” he mumbled and although his words were vicious his tone was lighter, as if he was doubting his ideas “… they are just not that evident”.

“… I am already in chains, you don’t have to put anyone int hem for a father’s mistake” you spoke back “… just the children that’s all I ask”.

“This will show that I am weak” although his words were spiteful, their meaning meant he was considering it.

“It won’t” you spoke back, your hands reaching out for his “… gentleness is the greatest virtue we can show to humanity”.

“Maybe for your Christian god! Not for me” but his body language spoke of being tired of that small fight, as if he hadn’t expected you to confront him.

“I don’t need ten slaves, free six” you started negotiating.

You might not have been the rebel daughter, but you had been the stubborn one.

“… not going to happen” he turned to straighten his admission.

“Five” you breathed out and he turned, a bright smile in his eyes, your stubbornness making this funny for him.

“Two”.

“Four”.

“Two”.

“Three”.

“Three”.

You let out a breath of relief, at his admission but as you turned to thank him, he was already gone and you couldn’t help but feel your chest damnably heavy.

All the words crashing through you.

And you felt on the bed, already tired.

Desperately wanting to go home.

---

You woke with gentle but stern touches on your arm, and as you shifted your eyes to finally accommodate your sight to the light absence of the sun, since the sunset had already passed.

And when your face turned to the source of the tenderness being bestowed upon you, you recognized the eyes of the old woman, in the thralls group: her eyes were a lighter shade of blue as if they had been discolored like her hair by the passing of time.

“My lady” she spoke in a heavily accented Saxon and you nodded lightly a bit numbed by the hours spent sleeping “ … we prepared you a bath, would you like any help for it?”.

With the way you stank you couldn’t help but agree for the bath, putting yourself in an upright position, rubbing your fists on your sore eyes, as a tired pup, and as your eyes finally focused you realized that the old servant wasn’t the only one.

The ten thralls that had been Ivar’s gift were all staring at you: a few seemed too shy to actually meet your eyes, others stared at you confusedly, as if they hadn’t expected you to act like that…

… which was strange also so you.

And finally only two other people looked at you differently from the rest: the other Viking thrall, a few years younger than you but with a striking maturity in her eyes, that followed your movements shyly but attentively, as if she was used to follow any order she was given.

And the other person was a Saxon girl, beautiful in every way you wouldn’t be: light fluent black hair cornering perfectly an angelic face, complete with beautiful green eyes, set up in a feline and languid form.

She wore a bloodied golden dress, with an heavy cleavage and a long trail, tattered by dirt and mud, but she didn’t seem to even care about any of those things, sat upon one of your trunks as if it was a throne and she was hosting her own court.

She looked at you coldly: an obvious challenge in her eyes.

And you were caught in that pitiful state that made you lower your eyes immediately, and you quickly realized you had lost the first battle.

But honestly you hadn’t even the strength to feel bad for it.

You let the older thrall guide you to the bath, giving you the privacy of undressing and slipping in the bathtub, helping you in it as the younger one, filled the water with an oil that smelled deliciously.

The tender water, warm enough to comfort you, dripped you further down the uneasiness of your sleepy body, but you fought it needing to be as lucid as you could, after the small fighting with the girl outside.

Clearly the Saxons girls were looking up at her and she had no gentleness towards you, which might be dangerous.

Although you hated the thought of owning servants, you knew better than to let them command you like that, even more after what you had done and talked about with Ivar.

Now it wasn’t no secret that he thought that you were ‘weak’ in his eyes, and you needed to prove him that it wasn’t like that, in any way.

You had gained his sympathy as easily as you had lost it.

Although the entire thought of it hurt you in a way that made you uneasy to approach him again, it made your mind colder and more lucid about you true task in the camping.

So far the only thing that you had discovered was that Halfdan and Harald were desperately trying to get on both yours and your husband’s nerves, although you couldn’t help but feel like Halfdan’s taunting had had a proper purpose although it was simply messing around with you.

He wanted to test you.

He had wanted to see who you truly were.

And you knew exactly why.

You exited the bath with a new knowledge and new strength, the younger thrall immediately rushing to you with a towel to wrap you up in it comfortably and although you didn’t meet her gaze embarrassed, you thanked her softly, blushing.

She simply squeaked away, embarrassment also upon her cheeks, as the older thrall fastened the towel on your chest, as she moved another towel on your hair to dry them, before she started braiding them loosely and comfortably.

She let you dress on your own and as you were in your undergarments, she reappeared with one of your dresses, a light blue one with silver decorations on the upper part and long open sleeves.

“Turid is mute my child” she explained, as she fastened the laces on the back of your dress “… she saw her mother drowning and never came back from that”.

You couldn’t help but feel an immediate pity for her, but tried to focus onto the older woman: she might be an interesting alley, she had a motherly behavior which you couldn’t help but appreciate, but she still made sure to show you the obstacle between you and her.

The different social level.

Still you leaned in her gentleness as she dusted off your dress, before she proceeded to adjust your neckline, as she took a lighter cloak to add to the entire complex, one of those that Hvitserk had graciously dropped off for you.

As you returned a few of the children had sat down on your bed, meanwhile the black-haired beauty continued on hosting her court completely unbothered by your presence as you appeared on the threshold of the main room, showing yourself.

Thankfully her ‘courtiers’ weren’t so shameless and turned to you.

A child, most of all, seemed surprised enough to move over to you, her childish naivety disrupting any etiquette or protocol as another girl who looked like her older sister, barely twelve, tried to stop her, but you raised your hand letting the child come at you.

She touched your dress curiously, probably surprised by the intricate details on it shining brightly as they caught the light.

“… you look so pretty” she spoke slowly as you let her sat beside you on the huge bed, helping her up, as you sent a smile to everyone else in the room “… like a princess in the stories Mary tells me before going to sleep!”.

You couldn’t help but be startled by the child’s soft words.

“Mary is your sister, right?” you asked, looking at the older girl who smiled shyly at you “… you must be a wonderful sister to tell her these amazing stories!”.

“Thank you, my princess” she spoke, a soft tone as she smirked lightly, still embarrassed but she couldn’t hide the pride “… they help me ease my mind away from… everything”.

“You’ll go home tomorrow” you announced softly, pushing a few strands of blonde hair away from the small child’s face and she looked at you confused before you spoke again “… you’ll meet your mom and dad again”.

This got an ecstatic smile from the child who went straight to hug you something which surprised you and made even the black-haired beauty stop talking to send you a look to see how you reacted to the hug.

And you couldn’t help but gently hug the child back, careful of her miniscule body, as you held her close, before you turned to your fellow Saxon people gently smiling at them.

“I am sorry, but I wasn’t able to negotiate for nothing more than for three of you to be released, but it is my intention to speak with my husband again and…”.

“… and maybe by the next year we’ll all be free” completed under her breath the brunette girl, standing up straighter as her golden dress highlighted itself as it caught the light: she looked more beautiful now, without a bath and in a dirtied dress than you looked in a proper dress and after a shower “… I was a lady back home! I am not going to serve you”.

You were struck, but you didn’t lose your breath as you slowly tried to calm yourself down.

You were being undermined, which was something that could matter highly on the perception of these people.

So far, they could also be allies, hence you needed to calm yourself and collect yourself.

Both your father and Ivar wouldn’t have wasted a single second to punish such insolence, but you weren’t simply able to do such a thing.

“It is true” you spoke with a steadiness that you didn’t know you owned as you pushed yourself up onto your feet, standing a few feet taller than her, sat down on the trunks.

She was surprised by you speaking back to her but hide it well.

“… I don’t expect any of you to serve me but remember that we are all in a stranger’s house, that we have only each other for protection”.

Your word sounded twisted in your own mouth, but you held them together with a serious glare as you moved your eyes on each of the girls, trying to test out their loyalty.

“… you think that simply because you have screwed him, you have some power over him” she spoke back to you and you couldn’t help but blush to her words, but stood your ground “… he’ll kill you as easily as he did with any Saxon soldiers that has crossed his path”.

“But still I got him to release three of you” you spoke back, letting a smirk appear on your face “… he might be ruthless, but I know how to make him act civil”.

“Those are just empty words” she spoke back, but as she turned around she seemed to understand she had lost the favor of anyone, there and she sent you a direct look, before she turned around avoiding your gaze “… he will never ever be civil, he is a Viking for God’s sake”.

“He is a human like you and me” you shouted back, letting more emotion than you had thought in the phrase and a light blush covered your cheeks.

“… to be human you need a heart and be warned princess, he doesn’t have any”.

The last words were a clear slap and you were almost glad when Hvitserk appeared with a few guards from the tent, putting you out of the misery to reply to the girl, suddenly feeling guilty of not having even known the name of such a worthy opponent.

Hadn’t she been already so set on hating you, you would have found her a welcome alley.

“Princess (Y/N), dinner is ready” he said, sending a weirded look at the strange atmosphere as the older woman moved to collect your cloak adjusting it onto your back as she brushed the braid out of it.

“Just leave me a minute” you asked him as he retreated, before shooting the girls a look “I’ll be back after dinner and we’ll talk further, for every necessity you can come to me”.

And as you were trespassing the tent’s threshold you turned one last time and mumbled.

“… sometimes owning a soul is not enough to be human”.

---

Dinner was spent again with simply you and Hvitserk, but you were almost grateful for the chance since you were able to clear your head from the discourse and to plan a way to get the Saxons women to collaborate with you.

“… are you upset?” asked Hvitserk, seeing you toying with your food “… and are you going to finish that?”.

You just moved the enormous piece of meat in his plate, glad that you hadn’t the complex etiquette you had back in court and glad that everyone was too busy chatting to notice you.

The atmosphere was so warm that you couldn’t help but be a bit cheered on by the atmosphere.

“Hvitserk?” you asked, turning to him so suddenly you caught him with meat in his mouth “… may I ask you a suggestion about Ivar?”.

“My favorite subject” he mumbled, spiting out partially the meat in his mouth.

“… do I displease him in some way?” you asked, blushing lightly “… he seems so cold with me”.

“Don’t take it personal, princess, he is Ivar” he replied sending you a soft look “… he is cold with everyone”.

You had decided to ask such a thing to Hvitserk because although he was a Viking he had seemed pretty nice with you, whether he was doing it on his brother’s orders or because he felt pity for you.

“… I just wish…” you smiled at him sadly “… it would be easier”.

“We all do” he replied, before he chugged a good gulp of mead “… but it wouldn’t be half funny if it was”.

You nodded, although you didn’t agree with him wholeheartedly.

“… he’ll warm up to you, soon, still…” and he then moved to come closer to you, gently pushing an arm around you “… he would be a stupid man to lose such a beauty”.

You couldn’t help but blush both for Hivtserk’s compliment and touch: no man had ever come that close to you and you couldn’t help but be a bit taken aback as you took in Hvitserk’s distinctive smell, mainly and tough, his rough beard lightly rubbing at your soft neck.

You immediately pushed yourself away, coughing, at the closeness Hvitserk had assumed: no woman should have been so close to a man who wasn’t her husband, back home, but the women in the camp seemed so liberal.

They were discussing with them as if they were their exact equals something that fascinated you, even more when a woman dared a man for a knife-throwing competition, remembering you about the bow you had been gifted.

You were sure you could find someone who would teach you that.

But would they be willing?

The brunette Saxon had remembered you again that you sadly weren’t exactly well-loved although Hilde’s reaction at the market would say otherwise.

“… when you are finished, tell me, I’ll bring you back to your tent” you were almost thankful for Hvitserk’s suggestion and nodded your head as you moved, raising yourself up and regaining your cloak as Hvitserk did the same, saluting the beautiful girl you had seen at market.

Who shot him a languid look, in an obvious show that Hvitserk wasn’t simply worried about your tiredness.

Still you couldn’t blame the boy: he had basically had to be your handmaiden for the entire day so you could deal with staying in your tent, almost desiring the privacy of it, hadn’t you realized that the girls would be there.

You almost missed the peace before their arrival.

You wished Hvitserk ‘good luck’ as he left you on the threshold and he looked extremely smug, bowing lightly as you came back in the tent, all the girls sat around the room, in what looked like a whispered discourse.

About you, since they all quit talking to each other as you entered.

Turid came to quickly collect your cloak as Solveig asked whether you had felt cold the previous night and needed other furs.

You said you didn’t, but made sure to tell her to take a few for herself, Turid and the others, who seemed to beam at that gracious offer, the brunette beauty now held a much smaller court, but she still regarded you with hateful eyes.

“… again, if you need anything, just come to me” you spoke in Saxon and repeated the same things to the older woman and Turid, who bowed their head, the former smirking a bit “Now I’d like to know all your names”.

They all looked around like shy bird, daring each other to speak, and then the small child who had called you ‘the princess of her stories’ moved to you and bowed lightly, with a childish deference that made you smirk.

“… I am Delilah”.

You nodded gracefully as her sister Mary stepped up beside her, and then another girl, blondish and with light eyes came forward, bowing and uttering her name, Sophie.

Then came forward the older Viking woman no bowing to you but her face held a genuine smile and her eyes devotion.

‘Solveig’ and then all the other girls stepped forward, one after the other, and you tried to test their loyalty: some seemed more convinced than others, but you didn’t get too much resistance, which was a step forward.

And you finally were in possession of the brunette beauty’s name, Angelika.

Pretty proper.

You chatted a bit more with them, informing yourself about from where they had been taken and who was waiting back home.

You would have sent back both Delilah and Mary home, alongside Christine, an eight-year-old, minimizing the children among them, to simply two, two ten years old that you had put in Solveig’s care.

‘It’s been a long time since I was a wet nurse’ she had complained, but had still taken the two children willingly, to get them ready for bed.

The thralls didn’t sleep with you, having their own tent which you could only guess could be crowded for seven women, even more if half of them had an ego as big as Angelika.

You were still happy to have company, people who were like you, who at least shared a few of your traits, such as missing home.

Your small talk was interrupted by a quick cough and as you turned to the flap of the tent, you caught a glimpse of your husband, waiting on his crutch with a wondering smirk, suddenly turning into a teasing one as all the girls showed their fear for him.

“… you better go and sleep, it is late” you chose to spare them from that show as you bowed lightly at Turid, the mute girl immediately moving towards the tent, forming a bee line with the other girls as they hurried outside, all bowing at a smirking Ivar.

He enjoyed extremely the submission he had broken in those girls’ heart and you couldn’t help but, again, realize how different you were.

Would you ever match together, truly?

You got off your bed, as you talked with the girls you had changed in your nightgown, a long flowy one that covered completely your body, almost as much as the dress you had worn that day.

You had let your hair down from the small braid and they fell on your back in small curls, covering even further anything which was revealed by Ivar’s hidden gazes.

Although he quickly moved himself to hide his face, you felt his light eyes on your body as they followed the hidden curves of your body, in a way that made you tremble.

“Welcome back, husband” you uttered softly, as you bowed and sat onto a chair beside the bed, not daring to enter it as Ivar approached it pushing himself onto the bed as a guard followed him inside.

And once he was sat down, after you had spared an embarrassed look at the guard, the guard helped him out of his braces, the metal that grasped his lower legs in an attempt to keep them straight.

You looked at the gestures, trying to understand how to unlace them so that you could do it yourself, quickly realizing that smaller hands would have worked better, since the man seemed to be pretty clumsy, making Ivar growl in pain.

He barely got one left before Ivar shouted at him to make him go away, moving to pull onto the metallic cast and you crouched down to do the same, Ivar reserving you the same treatment of the previous day when you had bended to take the ring.

But you weren’t scared this time, focused on the mechanism of the braces, fascinated by the creations etched on them, a you swiftly moved your finger through their hooks, unhooking them as you then helped him out of it, with a quickness that the previous guard hadn’t owned.

As you raised your head to meet Ivar’s eyes. they found yours and you smirked lightly, seeing them looking at you surprisedly, definitely not expecting your actions, but you just shot him a quick smirk.

“… thank you” he huffed out, pushing his legs onto the bed as you raised up, helped by a hand of his, which clutched yours tight.

“I can do it for you, each night, from now on” you told him as you overlooked him seeing if he might need something, but by the hazy look in his eyes, he seemed too tired for anything else “… I am a quick learner”.

“That you are” he mumbled, his tone held something between sweetness and annoyance.

“Who did them?” you asked gently, taking one brace in your hand as you twirled it around your hands, looking at it with curiousness, trying to understand the techniques, not having ever been so exposed to a demonstration of practical science, but fascinated nonetheless.

“Me” he replied, as he slithered away from you on the vast bed.

You shot him a surprised look, dropping the braces as you pushed them away from the side of the bed.

“That is… those are amazing creations” you complimented softly but he just nodded as if your words weren’t true “… I mean it”.

“You are too gentle” his tone was almost emotionless, and you retorted back, daring a step further.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” again you dared more than you had the ability to, but he didn’t seem to mind it too much, turning to you and again the intensity of his questioning gaze made you flinch away your eyes from him.

“I don’t know, yet” he mumbled, before turning away “… I am tired, so I’ll probably fall asleep soon, have a goodnight wife”.

And soon his lids shifted closer, giving you no chance to talk to him, able simply to move yourself into the bed, the farthest corner from him and then slipped a in very not peaceful slumber.

Your only reassurance was that another day had passed.

---

You were woken up by movements beside you, your head no longer projecting the illusion of being home as you moved the blankets and furs away from you and you sat in an upright position, opening your eyes to the tender light in the room, the sun being too low to be truly morning.

You turned to the other side, realizing Ivar had sat there and was trying to lower himself to the ground and as you turned to him, he realized that you were staring at him.

He seemed calmer, almost less guarded as he turned to you softly smiling.

“Sorry to have woken you up”.

You were frozen and surprised, after his continual outbursts of the previous night you almost feel like you were being tricked by his actions.

“Don’t worry, I have always been a restless sleeper” you promised softly at him “… what about you? Why are you awake so early, husband?”.

“Work” his mutter was an huff of annoyance and you couldn’t help but frown, almost wanting to push yourself further and hug him, bringing him back in bed, but didn’t dare to, both scared of what Ivar might do, since although he respected you, he didn’t fully trust you, and of the impure actions you had in mind.

And you couldn’t help but feel like any of those actions would have been greatly disapproved by your father.

It was already… embarrassing to have slept together, although at the extreme corners of the bed.

“We could have lunch together, again” you proposed as you sat in a more comfortable position, trying to get him to talk with you more, and to set up a proper appointment, hoping that the his mood might make it easier for him to talk with you.

And that it might be going on for the entire day.

“… we shall see” it was better than a no and the smirk he sent you left you flushed and worried as you lowered your head nodding “… go back to bed, wife, I’ll tell the thralls to wake you up in a few hours”.

“Don’t scare them” you told him softly and suddenly his good mood disappeared, but he nodded turning himself away from you as he slithered in the room to collect his braces before disappearing behind a secluded area to dress up.

You rolled yourself around bed trying to appear asleep when he returned back, but your body seemed at unease and restless.

You had always been the type to find it difficult to fall asleep, you would either fall asleep completely tired or you would roll around in bed, unable to completely relax as you tried to tire yourself out to get some sleep.

That’s why you had taken the habit of sneaking around by night, something which father Peter encouraged, remaining with you till late at night if you ever needed someone to talk to.

You had also always been an easy sleeper, so it wasn’t hard for you to feel Ivar’s eyes lingering onto your shielded body for a minute more before he stumbled away out of the tent, and you were alone.

As you always did in these cases you moved towards your trunk, checking the knife hidden in silks: the girls had been in your room alone and although all your trunks were locked you wouldn’t have put it past some to try to find something on you, mostly Turid and Solveig.

As much as you liked both, you couldn’t deny the fact that they were very different from you and them belonging to the Vikings ranks would have mattered greatly, hadn’t you done something to make them loyal solely to you.

After you were reassured the knife hadn’t been touched, you dug deeper and found a carpet of books you had laid out beneath all your dresses and picked up the first one you found, a small one with an elegant cover and golden inserts on it, denoting a writing in Latin.

You had taught yourself Latin with the help of father Peter and the use of the Bible till you had managed to read something else and then became more accustomed to the strange language, eventually being able to read all your favorite Latin authors, like Cicero.

Its sarcasm and strong personality definitely came as a reassurance for you, but you soon discarded the book for another, finding “Ars Amatoria” by Ovid, the book that might help you discover what went through men’s head.

You couldn’t help but blush through the erotic side of Ovid’s narration, but tried to sign up a few of the things that were told, before Solveig appeared on the threshold of the tent and you swiftly hid the book beneath your pillow, welcoming the older woman with a soft smile.

“Good morning, my princess” she wished you as slowly all the thralls appeared behind her, changed in cleaner dresses, although they weren’t as rich as the previous ones, but they all seemed much more relaxed, for which you were thankful.

“Good morning Solveig” you smiled, a you raised form the bed, Turid coming behind you immediately, almost as if she was used to helping you as she might have done with Ivar “… I hope you slept well and weren’t too cold”.

“… the… guards and prince Ivar were nicer with us” spoke softly a small girl, a bit older than she seemed, brown hair and deep amber eyes, Lia, if you weren’t wrong “… we had a nice night”.

“I am glad you did” you spoke, trying to look through all the girls who bowed their heads, bigger smiles through their grim appearances except Angelika, but you guessed that you would need more than simple furs to get her to like you “… does anybody like braiding hair?”.

Lia stepped forward:

“I have a smaller sister back home, she is barely five, I always braid her hair” she explained, making your heart swell with sadness “… she is… ruthless. She is always constantly unlacing her hair and making it a mess”.

“My sister Katherine is the exact same!” you giggled, making the girl relax as you gently pushed her to sit next to you “… she would need me to braid again her hair before any important meeting because she would go and run away through the castle”.

Although Lia still seemed at unease, she smiled genuinely.

“… Clelia is always trying to imitate our older brothers, she says that one day she’ll be a knight”.

“Well, she’ll be an amazing knight I am sure” you joked back, softly “… my sister Katherine dreamed of being like Lancelot from the legends about king Arthur, she would make me play Merlin and my sister would be Morgaine”.

Something of recognition shone in Lia’s eyes who relaxed.

“… we would play the same! My brothers even got us a round table!” she spoke, before a veil of nostalgy brought onto her face and you felt like it was better to change your opinion.

“… the reason why I asked who could braid is because… although I have a lot of practice in that matter, I do have to say that I don’t have much on myself, so if you could braid my hair, I would be extremely thankful”.

It was mostly a test, to see if these people would be loyal to you, offering yourself in such an intimate and feminine suggestion.

Lia blushed lightly, but scooted closer asking you to turn around softly and she started braiding as you invited another girl to come further, as your braided her golden hair, and soon you were all immersed in the soft atmosphere of feminine attentions, even Turid, who had big voluminous curly hair were being braided by small Christine.

It was a nice atmosphere definitely making you feel more at ease, almost as if you were again in your castle with your handmaidens, definitely not in a tent in an enemy camp, but you still kept your eyes sharp and attentive on everyone.

Angelika didn’t join the ‘braiding group’, but she still held her court with a few of the youngest thralls for which you were low key grateful, allowing them to try various braiding techniques on her long hair.

Both Solveig and Turid were determinate in their movements, almost mechanical, whereas the Saxons soon replenished the tent with low chatting and you quickly tried to catch onto it.

Something that caught your attention was said by Eleanor, a beauty in her own right, long dirty blonde hair and green eyes, a voluptuous body that her modest clothing didn’t hide, but her eyes held a purity and a shyness that you recognized all too well.

She had been talking with Arabella, a sixteen-year-old with a slim body and a tightness to her limbs that came from nervousness, almost as if she was constantly anxious.

‘… the guards and all these men… they have been looking at me weirdly’ muttered trembling lightly the blonde-haired beauty ‘… prince Hvitserk even went as far as to…’.

But her small confession stopped as the mentioned subject appeared in front of you, an obvious show that your presence was requested, and that he was in charge of you again.

The small chatting had immediately ceased and Solveig moved away with your nightgown, busy adjusting it back in the trunks, as she had dressed you up in a green gown, a bit tight on your stomach, and the skirt fell heavily on your hips, but you smiled through the pain.

Jewels had also been added, a small circlet of golden to crown your beautiful braided hairstyle, for which you had thanked multiple times Lia, the small girl smiling brightly at you, as you reached out for one of her hands.

You took a look of your body in the small mirror at the entrance of the tent and couldn’t help but feel more like your royal self than anything else, keeping your head high, as you bid the girls ‘good morning’.

The three that would be coming back coming with you followed you: the small Delilah cradled in her sister’s arms, meanwhile Christine clutched onto your gown as a child, comforted as you passed a hand through her braid

You led them to the chariot with a few guards on it, that would be taking them home and you slowly encouraged them to move further, but both the children gripped your arms tighter, scared by the men’s behavior.

“… you are going back to your families, sweeties” you softly spoke as you crouched down beside the small children “… your mom and your dad will be so happy to see you”.

“We won’t forget it, princess (Y/N)” spoke softly Mary at your shoulders, a few tears coming down her face as she fidgeted with her hands “… our father might be a small lord, but he’ll know that you freed his daughters and when you’ll need help my princess, just come to us and ask a favor”.

“Do me a favor, Mary” your voice wavered a bit, moved by the child’s offer “… protect your sister and Christine”.

“I will, my princess” she mumbled softly, as the two children loosened their grip on you, but kissed both your cheeks, hugging you tight “… you are a true saint, my princess”.

“Have a safe travel, Mary”.

The girls moved onto the chariot helped by the guards to whom you sent a small thankful smile, before turning to a surprised Hvitserk.

You made sure the chariot exited the camp before you turned to him.

“… Hvitserk I am going to ask something of you” you mumbled, shyly and nervous.

“Just ask and you shall receive” he joked back, but as he turned to face you, finding that your glare was pure steel.

“Don’t ever touch or talk with my handmaidens, again, or I’ll get your eyes out of their sockets”.

And you turned, your gown swishing soundly against the ground as you did so.

Missing Hvitserk’s shocked expression.

---

This time your daily stroll was taken at boat building sites, since you had insisted about a less crowded place and more open, wanting to see the reason why Vikings were so famous and undefeated: their boats.

You had been fascinated by the entire process and you had been looking through everywhere almost as a child with a new toy, Hvitserk barely following you and soon he had lost you, as you threaded through the setting where they covered boats with pitch and where they set up wood.

You had always been a bit excluded by such a practical knowledge and were now taking anything in with interest, as you run around, everybody surprised by your presence but nobody gave you any trouble, even answering your questions as you asked them.

Fear and respect in their eyes.

As you were stopping onto a cliff in front of the vast sea, you felt a presence reaching your side, and turned thinking it must have been Hvitserk, but to your surprise and dreading it was Halfdan.

He hadn’t the cocky expression of the other day, he instead seemed nervous almost uneasy, showing his true colors, for which you were thankful since he wasn’t the only one.

“Princess (Y/N)” he called out to you, bowing slowly his head, more out of circumstance than anything else “… may we talk?”.

“If you are going to insult me, I’d prefer not to” you shot back, the dress having given you a confidence you hadn’t known, a façade different from the one you owned.

“I actually came to excuse my poor behavior, my brother always tells me that my behavior with women… is not… something I should be proud of”.

You were definitely able to feel like Halfdan was sincere in his talk and lowered your steely glance, setting onto the small rock propped up by the cliff, as Halfdan did the same.

“… your apologies are accepted, my lord” you spoke “… but I’d like you and your brother not to use me as a way to get back to my husband”.

He seemed shocked with the way you spoke, having caught the bullseye, something you had thought about in the morning as you read, thinking about the way both the brothers had tried to get a raise out of Ivar.

But what they did with you was testing the waters to see if you’d betray your husband.

“… you see, Halfdan The Black, I might seem naïve and young, but I am not stupid or blind” you talk about it slowly, pushing every word out almost as spitted against him.

“Why then, if you aren’t stupid or blind, do you stay with Ivar?” he spoke, genuinely curious “… he isn’t properly husband material, the way he got so angry at your wedding… it isn’t…”.

This explained the pity glance.

“My God wants a wife to be faithful by her husband’s side, whether in sickness or health, till Death do us apart, I might have rejected my God, but I stand by my beliefs” you spoke slowly “… and I don’t think that you and your brother might offer me something more than my husband”.

And you were already someone else’s spy.

Halfdan didn’t look too shocked by your confession, before he adjusted on the rock, looking around at the sea, the way the grey waves crashed to the shore in a continuous cycle that hypnotized you, your gaze stuck there.

“… you are seriously smarter than I thought” he spoke, making you blush lightly, reverting on your timid personality “… ND you are more interesting than I thought, princess”.

“Then you might want to let me know why you are named Halfdan The Black” you retorted, shifting the argument of your conversation, definitely uneasy with the attention set on you.

“… that princess is a long story” he retorted, a small smile on his face, a bit more at ease with you.

But your conversation was quickly set off by a sudden scream and as you both turned you found a girl the origin of the desperate scream as a man moved to grab onto her hair, pushing her down and pulling onto her hair to bring her back in his tent, as the girl dug her hands onto the ground, to avoid moving further.

You immediately moved forward as Halfdan was immediately behind you and before you even knew it you had pushed onto the man, making him release his hold onto the woman who immediately crawled away, setting herself behind you.

She was different from any woman you had ever seen, her skin darker than yours, a beautiful shade of ebony that completely matched the blackness of her ink-like eyes, as they stared with fierceness the man.

He was  older than you, but in a way that was more due to his weight and evil expression on his face than to his actual age, as he moved forward to you with an animalistic growl, getting right on your face.

“… want a fucking lesson too, little whore?” he spoke in Saxon, his tone dripping with venom and alcohol “… I am more than willing to show you…”.

And as his hand was coming down your face, a sheathed sword pulled it back, making the man fall onto his ass as Halfdan came into your view, something savage in his look as he came in front of you.

But the man didn’t desist.

“… don’t you teach your whores to stay out of the fucking way” the entire phrase was too slurred for you to completely understand it, but you understood the dreadful meaning of it.

Again, Halfdan came to rescue, pushing himself in front of you as he pointed the sword at the man, stopping him from getting up.

“Do you know who you just called ‘whore’?” the man shook his head softly “… she is Ivar’s bride, shithead”.

And like that the man’s face grew restless and white, almost as if he had suddenly realized the terrible mistake he had done, backing up slowly from Halfdan and you, who instead overstepped Halfdan and moved to the man.

The fear of God shone in his eyes and you slowly crouched down to him.

“… you better ask forgiveness” you whispered, and the man immediately raised his hands almost to protect himself blabbering forgiveness, but you stopped him immediately “… not to me, but to the lady”.

The beautiful woman who now was looking at the scene from behind Halfdan’s strong legs perked up, her voluminous hair dirty of mud and her dress simply rags patched up together which made you understand why she had tried to run away.

Although the man grimaced at your small order, he did mumble a slow ‘sorry’, and you exchanged a small look with Halfdan who pushed feet onto the man’s protruding stomach, effectively stealing his breath.

“… do it better” and when he stood there without doing anything your anger got the best of you “… beg for forgiveness and don’t make me ask again”.

And the man did, almost starting to cry, something that brought you back from your small moment, as Halfdan released the man kicking him away as you moved towards the woman, who had looked at all the scene, tears slowly slithering onto her dark cheeks.

You approached her carefully, crouching down, uncaring of the mud that got in your dress as you did so, gently helping her up her fragile feet and softly asked her if she was alright.

She seemed shocked by the fact you had spoken with her but quickly nodded, her weigh being suddenly pushed onto you as she slumped in your arms, her feet having given out under her.

Halfdan quickly took her from you, carrying her in his arms easily, as you were suddenly met by Hvitserk, who seemed confused by the entire scene but didn’t dare to question it as you told him to go back to your tent and to advert Solveig of preparing a bath.

Halfdan carried the girl as you tried to check on the her, worried almost as if she was one of your own.

But what caught you and made you raise your eyes from the girl was Halfdan sudden stare fixed on you, a slightly dark smirk on his face.

“I always thought that Ivar would be your undoing…” he mumbled softly “… maybe you’ll be his, only time will tell”.

---

Solveig had almost threatened to push you out of your own tent as you fretted around her worried for the poor woman: she had blood on the hem of her dress, between her legs, which had made the poor Turid almost faint.

All the Saxons ladies had been pushed out and as much as you hated separating Solveig and Turid from the rest of them, using them for manual actions, you thought it would have only scared the girls, even further the younger ones, who were playing with Lia and Arabella, outside, under the watchful eyes of Halfdan and Hvitserk.

‘Do you think that she’ll… she’ll feel better soon?’ you asked continuously at the older woman as you had slowly dropped the girl in your bathtub, after you had discarded her clothes.

You had tried not to look at her body, the Christian modesty you owned closing your eyes, but you hadn’t been able to avoid witnessing the scars that decorated the woman’s body, all recent and you could only guess what that horrid man had done to her.

You couldn’t help but have memories of what had happened a lot of years ago to another woman, who had her body branded by scars, under her rich clothes.

That’s why you had moved in and that’s why you felt so so damnably tense at the thought of that woman never opening her eyes again.

She did it, finally, waking up as one would from a cruel nightmare, moving her body without a true order as she splashed the water, enough that both you and Solveig rushed to bind her arms, making her only pronounce other words you didn’t know, unknown also to Turid, who had rushed in with a towel for the woman.

“You are alright” you spoke softly in her ear, slowly releasing your grip onto her arm as you told Solveig to do the same “… that man won’t hurt you anymore”.

She seemed taken aback, needing a moment to process your words and then she dipped in the water, her hand raising high and her words seemed prayers, thankful for being free, as her voice broke pitifully and she was overcome by a cry.

You dismissed Solveig and Turid, knowing all too well that whenever such bare emotions were uttered one didn’t need a crowd and she softly turned to you, her face being again stained by tears as you softly hushed her, holding her close.

“… thank you, my lady, thank you” she cried and you softly smirked.

“Don’t worry, no woman should ever be treated like that” you spoke, gently handing out a hand for her as you grabbed the towel Turid had brought, turning around to give her some privacy.

“You are… you are the… younger prince’s bride, aren’t you?” she asked as her voice wavered a bit, evidently wanting to shift the conversation away from herself, and you didn’t blame her since you were a stranger to her.

“… yes, I am, I am princess (Y/N)” you told her, bowing lightly “… and you are?”.

“My name is not... understandable in this tongue… but since I came here my father… he called me Caryn” she told you, slowly lowering her voice, something delicate and intimate in her talk, but you didn’t push her further.

“… that’s a beautiful name” you mumbled as you helped her out of the bathtub “… can I leave you with Solveig and Turid, now? I’ll check on the other girls”.

“Of course, my princess, I am sorry if I said you were a lady…” she started rambling and you just smiled at her, grabbing softly her coarse hands.

“… no need Caryn, I am just happy if I can make you feel a bit better”.

And you exited to control on the girls and more importantly the men, but Hvitserk was careful to look at anywhere else that wasn’t the girl, whereas Halfdan’s eyes were set onto you.

“How is the girl?” he asked, softness shining in his eyes.

“Bruised but holding on” you told him and released a soft breath, before he asked you and Hvitserk to join him for lunch.

“I don’t know if I…” you shot a small look worried for Caryn “… can you bring me lunch here?”.

“First she threatens me and then orders me around…” mumbled Hvitserk annoyedly “… she is becoming too spoiled”.

“I do think that she’ll be funnier than we think” retorted Halfdan.

And you smirked at him, before turning, the light circlet on your head catching light, almost as a lightning as you drove back in the tent.

You had saved a life today.

And maybe God would have seen it and decided to help you.

Or maybe you had helped yourself out of this shit.

---

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[my-angel-daisy]

daisy chains

summary: james and cordelia are not lovers, well, that’s how cordelia sees it.

word count: 5.8k

cordelia winced, she watched lucie collapse on the stairs of the institute from exhaustion. they were both covered in blood, their own and otherwise, disheveled and distraught. cordelia was tempted to follow her parabatai’s example or jump in front of her to soften her blow but she couldn’t.

the grand entrance door opened and william herondale ran down to his daughter. he took her in his arms and lifted her as he exchanged a frightened look with cordelia, he had questions, ones she didn’t know how to start answering. tessa herondale also made her way down with forced composure as she ran to the jolly group.

there was a silence as she scanned her eyes to assess the situation as she always did. “lucie will be alright my love” she told her husband as she took lucie's pulse, she began encouraging him up the stairs and they reached inside. cordelia had never seen mr herondale so fragile and vulnerable but then again one would be with their limp child in their arms.

“there aren’t any serious wounds mr and mrs herondale, she will just need some rest” cordelia only whispered this but it startled both of them. as she said this her parabatai began to stir and regain consciousness. perfect timing as always.

from there on, everything seemed to blur for cordelia, lucie got attended to and since neither has serious injuries she began to explain the evening to her family. 

cordelia felt numb, she didn’t acknowledge the cloth bridget was dabbing at the slice on her collarbone to shoulder, nor the breathless animated voice of lucie as she told everything. tessa was quizzing lucie’s recollection for any signs of dark or powerful magic but they didn’t recall anything. 

the arberg’s had disappeared two weeks previously, they were an acclaimed member of the clave so their vanishing had set all the shadowhunters on alert but it didn’t directly impact anyone at the institute. lucie and cordelia had been investigating a string of murders of werewolves and didn’t see the connection with the powerful warlock, theo conall until it was too late.

perhaps they were both lead into a trap or conall had simply been multitasking to the highest extreme but when lucie and cordelia visited his residence to ask about some fair folk connected to the moon children he was acquainted with, they didn’t expect to hear the shrill screams of amelia arberg.

the trained servants and friends protecting him were effective, dedicated and loyal. their blood shed as lucie and cordelia made their way towards amelia who couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. cordelia wasn’t unfamiliar to battles, they had become as natural to her as a ball dance but seeing the child amidst it all was unsettling for her nerves.

her strokes were slopier, her punches not as accurate as usual, all because her eyes kept going back to the child. once they had soaked the mansion with blue and red blood, cordelia stepped over the purple mix and grabbed the little.

conall had escaped but one problem at a time. here was a missing child trembling with terror and as cordelia followed her eyes, there they were, her parents, disembodied and on display for their child to see all. 

cordelia and lucie walked a great distance to find a coach with amelia hanging from cordelia's side. amelia was here, desperately clinging to cordelia’s side on the couch. her cries aren’t as loud as they were before, they are tired, hitched dry tears of a child that can’t stop crying. some of the blood on cordelia has transferred onto her tiny hands and bright red, strained cheeks. cordelia had made no effort to comfort her, she was still a lifeless statue staring at the floor of the institute drawing room.

she began to register there were other people there, too many of them. will herondale has a cool composure about him as he called for amelia’s nearest relatives to be contacted immediately, for the enclave to assemble at conall’s manor to judge the crime scene and with a quick nod to lucie, he left.

cordelia saw lucie drop to her chair with a whine and her brother was at her side telling her to go rest or eat, bombarding her with worried statements. tessa herondale was knelt in front of her trying to stroke amelia’s hair and soothe her into releasing her grip on cordelia to no avail. matthew and james rose in unison as they declared they would go and help mr herondale. cordelia wasn’t sure with one of them spoke but they left too.

the room felt colder even though a mighty fire was blazing in the fireplace. as the night sunk in, cordelia left amelia to tessa’s gentle care. she bathed herself, and tried her best to forget the paralyzing face amelia had given her when she first noticed her in the manor. she shouldn’t be so shocked and unnerved, she was a shadowhunter and disturbing scenes like those are to be expected but how she had never thought she would experience a mission like that so soon.

a knock on her door presented matthew who had returned as all business with the clave had been settled and the hunt for conall had been taken over by an elite team of senior shadowhunters. “amelia's uncle has come to collect her, lucie is already receiving his thanks and she insisted that you wouldn’t want to join but i thought i’d ask just the same” he declared in his relaxed manner. “no thank you matthew, lucie was right, i don’t want to join at all” he nodded and told her that dinner will be served to her and lucie in their room and left with an encouraging and pitying smile.

cordelia was glad she could confide in lucie who understood her better than anyone else could. after finishing their meal, lucie lies her head on cordelia’s shoulder and rants of the catastrophe that is today. lucie was always so good with her words that it comforted her better than anything. lucie can word all the stress and anxieties of the day so perfectly that cordelia didn’t need to speak them aloud herself.

lucie left after her therapeutic rant with her parabatai to visit her parents to no doubt do more of the same and hug her mother and father who eagerly awaited all day for a private conversation with her. since cordelia’s parents were not there to do the same for her, she tried to escape her self pity by running to the library.

cordelia had always been fascinated by flowers. the way people use the plant to express their feelings in a way they can’t with words interests her. two of her favourite volumes of flower related books lay in front of her. she listlessly flipped through the scientific explanations and research for care of flowers, her eyes never left bright detailed illustrations of various species. she was enthralled by their mysteries and natural beauty. then the oak door swung open to filter even more light into the room.

it was james, he stood by the door for a few seconds as she slowly closed her books and lay them on the table, he was hesitant in his steps, cordelia didn’t understand why. nowadays he has become more distant and awkward around her. she hated it, she wished she could shake him and stop that uneasiness that always flashed in his eyes.

he made his way around to her side and grabbed the top book to flick through, he was trying to busy himself and she was impatient, she knew why he was here and what they had become to expect from each other. his golden eyes looked around the room, avoiding her. she wished he hadn’t come now, he seems so uncomfortable and bored of her even though he hadn’t even made the effort to greet her.

“james” she caved and his eyes snapped to hers. finally, she thought. she loved it when he looked at her, she never wanted to pay attention to his other facial expressions because when he looked at her, she felt she had free access to view his golden eyes. she loved the different shades that run through them as though he had trapped the heart of the sun itself in his eyes. they always burnt her own eyes to look at.

he reached for her as she ignored his worried frown. he gently grabbed her neck and pulled her head closer while simultaneously wrapping his arms around her waist. he closed his eyes, always did before their lips were even aligned, maybe he’s memorised where they’ll always be. cordelia’s hands shly stroked up his arms and rested on his shoulders.

his soft lips met hers and they exchanged gentle small pecks that deepened into long kisses. cordelia used all her composure to refrain from moaning and biting on his lips. her form was still and stiff, she didn’t want it to be that way but she was too afraid to move onto him, to ignite the kiss with a passion that james won’t reciprocate. this meant that she only let james lead as he pleased. it felt too fragile, if she were to move her hands up the back of his neck and tug at his hair like she craved to, he might snap away, she was certain he would.

they may have kissed countless times now but it somehow never felt intimate. cordelia never felt like they were lovers, contrary to what anyone looking from the outside would think. they would think they were young inexperienced lovers that are coy in their courtship. they are not lovers, there is no courtship, james isn’t shy. cordelia knew why he wanted this distance, the softness separated them, made it easier for him to pretend it was any other woman. cordelia was sure of this, it was the only explanation for why else would his kisses taste of grace blackthorn.

cordelia felt used, she had liked to think she had too much respect for herself to allow this to continue but she was lying to herself. her desperation for james herondale had gotten the best of her and she would still take this, however little it may be, it was still a bit of james.

5 minutes later and james pulled away. his swollen lips and darkened eyes lightened her heavy heart only for a moment. of course he looks beautiful, slightly panting for air and gazing at his arms still around her waist. he was the first to pull away and cordelia the one to leave, in keeping to this routine they had developed, cordelia rose and went straight for the door with no glance nor word to james.

cordelia laid in her bed and stared at the ceiling as lucie lightly snored. she didn’t want to cry about it, she had grown too tired of that. james had first kissed her 4 months back in the empty drawing room as the humming summer sun shone upon them. it had gone just the same as today, only matthew had barged in and they were forced to jump apart.

at the time, cordelia had not noticed the coldness of his fiery eyes. she had even entertained the idea of james confessing his love for her. the memory forced a sarcastic chuckle to leave her in the dark room. she waited and waited, thought he was drafting and redrafting a letter but that never came, the very next week cordelia saw him passionately latch at grace blackthorns lips in a quiet room at a ball in the institute.

but she still waited and pined for the kisses that followed even though james never spoke of them to her. he never addressed it but repeated it. everytime they were alone he held her and so sweetly planted the uniform kisses but they both parted and pretended it never happened. what good would come of it? for him to tell her what she already knows? there is no need to hear james confirm that she is a replacement for grace when he is not with his only love, cordelia didn’t think she was brave enough to bear those words spoken aloud by the only man she truly loved.

**** 

james sat on his writing desk. glaring at the paper as through it had deeply offended him. he had become confused and decided that he would write all his thoughts, however tangled and distorted, hoping that when he looked back at it with fresh eyes, they would make sense. how wrong he was. the drawer under the desk is littered with past attempts.

james had sworn his love for grace blackthorn to the world. he loves her deeper than any ocean his poets wrote about. he adored her, her clear eyes that had inspired him to become a poet himself, grace had made him try, and fail, to express his love for her in grand words and exuberant phrases. but he couldn’t find any, his sister was the one who was gifted with the pen to write her emotions in a way james could only read and enthusiastically agree with.

again, grace. he had committed himself to her. he has given her his heart to do with as she pleases. anyone who knew him was aware of her mark on him and he wore it proud, prouder than if it were a medal. so why would he so much as dare question his own loyalty to his grace. there is no other and all these letters have grace’s name for it was her he was destined to love.

deception was no use. he cannot lie to himself as convincingly as he has been lying to others recently. he had kissed cordelia. it was no accident. no heat of the moment bout of lust. he had noticed cordelia in a different way. his sister’s parabatai was not one whose beauty lashed onto you. it was gradual, first he noticed her laugh, how sweet and warm it made him feel. then her touch, something as innocent and (previously) meaningless as exchanging books made his fingers tingle. at night he would trace where she had stroked with his other hand and stare in confusion but he sure did find many other excuses to make sure it was repeated. “here take my pen daisy” “pass those to me, i will carry them for you” etc. and so gradually, the daisies sprouted in the garden of his mind, erratically and turned into a field.

they had been too much, cordelia’s pull, her soft hair, dewy skin and plump lips consumed him. how reckless, insolent, unacceptable for him to act on it. he owed her an explanation or better still an apology. he thought a love letter would suffice, so he did try, the very time he first kissed her. but it sounded pathetic, she would laugh at his face, demand the truth, how could someone so publicly dedicated to grace blackthorn write her a letter like this.

he had meant everything he said in the first one, the one under all it’s other 20 or so more revised, though less honest copies. but a letter won’t do, he has left it too late. james herondale has somehow managed to procrastinate on a love letter. but maybe the word “love” is too strong for these letters, they are confessions from a sinner unsure of his sin. he recognises the carnage he has caused but cordelia doesn’t seem to react to it, she seems indifferent, uninterested in his feelings. she leaves every time they kiss, with james confused and frustrated behind her. he never has the courage to tell her to stay.

and so the latest extract of his knotted mind he pulled onto ink. he cannot help but compare. does his adoration for cordelia touch graces? no surely not. he thinks of cordelia’s bright eyes when she talks of flowers in her garden, the beaming smile when asked about a weapon she had clearly been waiting for someone to address. james always envied the one who asked before him, he had made a note to try and beat them to it whenever he next sensed an excitement in her waiting to be unleashed. but he had not acted on it, in his own stupidity, he had kissed her instead. 

grace however giggled after they kissed. he is not ashamed to say it makes him proud to see the slightest blush crawl up her pearl white cheeks. but cordelia never giggled, never so much as smiled. this weighed on him, he should kiss her better, hold her more freely, embrace her more, show her all these words he can’t say. he shrinks when the time comes, a coward again. she strips him of his courage, his bravery and senses.

****

the carriage halts outside the institute, lit with lights and melodic music. cordelia was fidgeting with her gloves, which her mother didn’t fail to point out. cordelia waited for alastair to exit before following herself after her mother. she hadn’t been to the institute for a week now, she hadn’t read the invitation either and wasn’t sure what or whom welcomed such a celebration which she didn’t speak aloud to save herself the embarrassment. 

she saw the institute full of life and walked the steps that now had such a horrid memory ingrained into her steps. cordelia was still reeling, she felt uneasy and couldn’t process her experience in a way she knew she was expected to. as a shadowhunter, no one would assume it was the results of a mission that set her mouth in a frown or produced the paled expression masking her face from the sleepless nights. She found comfort in her parabatai’s letters and now, warm welcome and hug. through it all, she still has her lucie.

the institute decor was spectacular, she expected nothing less from the herondale couple and their restless desire to make others feel welcomed. these gatherings however, have become an inconvenience to cordelia. she had been overjoyed at first, of course, but as each event became repetitive — being asked about her father, her “unique” characteristics and “unconventional” charm have become exhausting. there’s only so many backhanded compliments she could take. “what a pretty dress, it works so well despite your complexion”. if the whole building was emptied save the musicians and lucie, she would never feel this way. 

it was later in the evening when she noticed james herondale. he looked breathtaking. black hair framing his structured face and glowing eyes. his lips were sliding into a grin as he listened intently to someone she didn’t recognise. she was starting, and instantly made her way to the refreshment table in hopes no one around her saw the blush she felt burning her cheeks.

she sighed to herself and felt tired. of james. she was tired of being captivated by him, of being addicted to him. she didn’t want to feel this way anymore, she knew she had repeated this argument with herself so many times before with no definitive answers. but this time, something had changed, she looked into the garden of the london institute and saw a bunch of lilies she once saw james give to grace and knew it would never be otherwise. 

****

cordelia was waiting for lucie in the small drawing room of the london institute on a rainy winter day. she and her parabatai were due in a boutique south for their final fittings, cordelia’s mother was to meet them there in two hours. cordelia never bought any item of clothing without her mother’s approval. this unquestioned arrangement made her feel like a child and suffocated by the control her mother demonstrated in every aspect of her life, but she knew if she were to challenge it, the consequences would be dire.

cordelia was caught up on the pitter-patter of rain and her thoughts so she didn’t notice james enter. she gave a stiff but polite greeting and resumed into her silence. she hadn’t talked to james for a month and she could physically feel the distance the time had created. 

james seemed very agitated and uncomfortable. his brows were knotted and his lips lined in a frown. although she must admit the effect was appealing, she did not like being the cause of this expression. cordelia had admittedly been avoiding him and the atmosphere in the room made it evident she was within reason. but this was for the best, she told herself, it gave her room to find someone else, someone who will love her.

they didn’t speak for some time, then suddenly in a cautionary whisper, james spoke.”cordelia” she met his eyes and was startled to see him watery eyed. “what’s the matter james? are you well? goodness what has happened?” she felt panicked. this display of emotions was rare for james.

“calm daisy, i apologise, there is nothing the matter” james said as he wiped at his tears and straightened himself. cordelia felt bewildered and knew james could see it on her face because he gave a soft cuckle. “don’t stress on my accord, i'm quite well” he offered but cordelia wasn’t convinced but at the same time she didn’t want to press any further. she didn’t know if she was any longer in his confidence.

after a prolonged and painful silence, james abruptly stood and strode to stand in front of cordelia with an air of purpose. he proclaimed “cordelia. I believe I have made a catastrophic mistake and i don’t know how to fix it but i will try” he met her wide and perplexed eyes. her head tilt made it obvious, he needed to specify. “it is regarding my behaviour towards you these past months..” he whispered.

cordelia’s face snap to the floor and rigid composure in her posture as if physically shouting at him to stop without saying a word. he resumed. “I have behaved in a disgraceful manner that is disrespectful towards you… I apologise, i know i should have done so earlier but daisy.. I'm pathetically afraid of you” he saw cordelia’s brows knit and she began to glare at him. she felt herself get angry at him but unlike those other time, she didn’t try to be kind to him, she will be fair to herself.

james started fumbling with his jacket pockets and pulled neverending letters and notes. he gathered them all in a pile in one hand and gestured for cordelia to receive them. she hesitantly reached for them and let them rest on her lap, looking between the letters and james with suspicious eyes. “I've tried.. time and time again but they never turned out right so i thought that if you saw them all, maybe you could decipher my meaning” james desperately explained. “i am not lucie, daisy i don’t know how to explain these feelings i don’t understand myself and i’ve been frantically searching but finding a poem or prose by the perfect poet or artist more talented than me to encapsulate how you make my heart tremble has been impossible. i can’t find the combination of words and i have failed time and time again to physically show you yet-” he was breathlessly ranting and stopped himself when he noticed the horrified look on cordelia’s usually calm face.

he stood unsure and walked back to his seat. cordelia saw his eyes shut as he tried to control his breathing, he opened his golden eyes and set them on her. she felt her cheeks reddening and held her breath. “I do not expect you to reciprocate my…” he started again. “read them daisy, then and only then tell me what you think of me, command me as you please and I will comply without question, only… give my muddled words a chance” he bowed his head and left her.

**** 

james practically ran upstairs to his room, alarming his mother and beryl in the hallway. he began pacing around his room, trying to level his breathing and cool the heat that was burning his face. 

just when he thought he had finally found composure, he felt regret claw it’s way at him. what if she never spoke to again? that would be torturous, not to even get a reaction, if this silenced her, oh by the angel, he felt panicked. what if she was disgusted in him and she distanced herself from the institute. he sunk deep into his armchair and brooded until dinner.

****

james felt nauseous and his pale skin and tight lips had not gone unnoticed. “what’s the matter with you jamie? is it your repulsive suit, if so, you shouldn’t worry, nobody expects anything more from you” matthew gave a very backhanded compliment as a form of reassurance. james frowned his eyebrows “what’s wrong with it” he began self consciously running his down his jacket. that wasn’t a source of distress for him but it sure was now.

matthew chuckled and slapped james’ back. “only a joke jamie… would you like to leave, i know a better place we could go” james considered this. the lightwoods had an evening garden party that his aunt cecily and uncle gabriel had been planning for weeks. it would be rude to leave. it was beautifully decorated. the garden had been decorated by witchlights that trailed around the perimeter, creating a soft source of light that made their humble gardan look enchanted, as though you had been drawn to it by mischievous pixies.

he will stay, he needed to be here tonight. he hadn’t seen cordelia in 2 weeks and it was eating away at him every waking and sleeping moment. he had become restless. this must be how mundane purgatory was. he awaited cordelia’s sentence. will she send him to a hell without her or a paradise where they were forever side by side? he was biting at his lips and mindlessly mingled through society. he felt like he was watching himself move through a smudged mirror. he knew his friends were joking and laughed in unison with them when he didn’t hear the joke. he’s vaguely aware of grace’s presence on his left, her eyes on him but he doesn’t respond. he had ended their agreement weeks back and although this earned him quizzical looks from his family and friends, he didn’t regret it. grace would not have a problem finding suitors, she attracted eligible young men like moths to a flame. 

then he sees cordelia and everything starts to clear and she glows, shining her light on everyone around her. she is laughing at some private joke with lucie. he felt his stomach flip and instant jealousy towards lucie. his feets had already carried him towards her. james somehow kept the panic at bay. cordelia was looking at him with expectant eyes. he should say hello, yes, let’s start with that. he gave a slight bow and made his greeting, a bit less casual than usual and lucie must have noticed for her eyebrows rose. 

“cordelia” he spoke her name and a weight felt lifted from him as though he had said a prayer. “may i please have a moment of your time” he spoke low and quietly so that only she would hear. “of course” she said with a polite smile as they silently moved to a quieter area where you could hear the chirping of crickets.

when he turned to face her, he was speechless for a second. she was breathtaking, her soft curly and fiery hair made her seem ethereal. it made him feel like he was seeing an angel no mortal had any right to see. she turned her face to the floor and james realised the second had lasted longer than he thought. he opened his lips to speak but none of his speeches came forth.

she evidently had more courage and spoke. she raised her head and whispered in a way a queen announces a command. “james my mama will notice if i am gone for too long” that was not what james had expected but he understood. mrs carstairs was very particular about cordelia’s whereabouts and he didn’t want to get her in any type of trouble.

“have you read my letters?” james fiddled with the rings on his fingers and couldn’t look at her. she answered shortly that she had but didn’t elaborate. “and what are.. what do you make of them?” cordelia took a few steps away from him and turned back to him. james was terrified now, more than he ever remembered being. he saw the blade that was executing him but it was cordelia’s words.

“i think it cruel you would let me read them and i wish for us to return to the way we were before” james’ eyes widened. “cruel?.. no you must have misunderstood my letters” he tried reaching towards her but she backed away. “then what was I supposed to understand from them?” james gave a slight scoff. surely she hadn’t read them thoroughly but it’s alright, he will explain himself.

“that i love you” he said definitely. she looked hurt and recoiled. james felt sick. this was a mistake. he was hurting her and he should never have said that. she looked disgusted in him, she could never love him, he had been delusional. “love?” cordelia asked him but he didn’t know how to answer, of course it was love.

“you don’t love me james. you said so yourself in every letter. you wrote again and again how you couldn’t, how grace is your true love. we both know that is the truth. you feel nothing for me that isn’t shame at your attraction to me and you evidently have no respect for my person if you find it appropriate to send me letters with your lustful thoughts. how could you james? i have done nothing to deserve such cruelty” cordelia’s voice broke and james felt tears prick at his eyes. she was wrong, this is all wrong. he wanted to scream. wanted to tear the stupid letters until his fingers bled. how can she misunderstand him so severely.

“no daisy” he grabbed her wrist as through it was the only thing keeping him from being dragged to sea. “i love you, the only shame i feel is my behaviour towards you. i love you, i love you.. please forgive me daisy please, let us forget about them and start anew i beg you” he pleaded with her and didn’t bother to conceal the desperation in them. 

“mama had always told me to never trust what a man says but what he does.. jamie all you’ve done is conceal your feelings for me as though im a dirty secret and you have never shown any intention of courtship” cordelia had her face lowered but james could see the stream of tears on her cheek dripping to her neck. 

james dug his nails into fist as he gently entwined his fingers with cordelia’s with his other hand. she was mistaken but there was no denying it was rational how she had come to that conclusion. “i.. i know that it may seem like i don’t but i need you to give me a chance, let us start our courtship tomorrow, i have so many places i want to take you daisy. let us start fresh and i will show you and do anything you need me to do to prove my love” she was still silently crying and james felt his heart break.

he had caused this, his cowardice and selfishness had created a rift between them. he pulled her towards him and felt her struggled breath against his collarbone. he held her tightly and stroked the small of her back. 

“promise m-“ “anything” james interjected. “promise me you won’t do this again. promise me i will always know what you feel for me and will never be a replacement” cordelia’s voice was slightly hoarse from crying “i promise, i promise my angel, you have never been a replacement, i will bare all of me to you and use ‘i love you’ to greet you and punctuate all my sentences” james vowed as he kisses her palms. 

cordelia’s teary eyes were looking at him as though she had never seen him before. she lifted her hands to his neck and drew him to her. cordelia was kissing him in a way they’d never kissed before. it was hot and frantic. their bodies were pressed together and he could feel her soft and warm body all over him. she tugged at his hair and james felt a moan escape from his lips and was caught by cordelia as she gently bit at his lips. 

they heard a roar of laughter in the distance and they broke the kiss to turn back to the party. the party. they should head back. but james found it hard to move. he wanted to stay here and hold daisy all night, his daisy whose lips were wet and plump, looking up at him with dark brown eyes. “we should..” she began but didn’t continue. they were both panting and james didn’t want to be apart. but he remembered that he had a future with cordelia and he wanted it to start tonight.

he stroked her cheek and gently pushed a stray strand of curly hair back to its place. he saw her pat down her clothes and followed her lead. put his arm out, which she took. james felt a jolt at her closeness but privately smiled to himself. this is how it will be from now on. he had cordelia by his side and he will do everything in his power to make her happy.

he led her back and when cordelia turned to him to say her farewell he said “thank you for your time miss carstairs, i was wondering if you would like to join me to visit the chelsea physic garden tomorrow afternoon” he said this in an overly formal tone and he was rewarded with a grin on cordelia’s face that made her eyes shine. “i would be delighted mr herondale” she gave a pretty courtesy and went to her friends, james watched her for some time before turning to look for sona carstairs who was luckily speaking to his father. he joined them and enthusiastically talked with mrs carstairs for the rest of the night. it wouldn’t hurt to be on friendly term with cordelia’s mother who, as it turns out, was fascinating, he was sure they would be good friends. 

james’ mind was restless with anticipation that night. he must have matthew over first thing in the morning to help him dress and beryl is always good at planning picnic baskets but he must tell her that cordelia prefers raspberry jam to strawberry. he loves her, and he will show her. in time, he hoped, she may love him too. 

the end.

note: thank you to @sadtrains​ @tsctrashh​ @cordeliajamies​ @salchik​ and @fairytalejordelia​ for encouraging me to post this 

[otonymous]

The Taming of the Fox: Lucien’s Firsts (NSFW Headcanon)

Hey Dear Nonnies,

Thank you both for your incredibly kind words and for waiting so patiently for these Lucien headcanons 💕You are absolutely right...I am a total hot mess when it comes to Lucien, and with the King’s birthday coming up on November 15th, I figured now’s the time to finally finish up this WIP that’s been lingering around for months 😂

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised.  

Naughtiness ensues after the cut! 

Dark Knights In White Coats: Your Relationship With Lucien:

Things will never be "just comfortable” with Lucien, as he has a knack for keeping you on your toes.  He’ll make your heart race with the slightest touch, the briefest of glances…the most lascivious words spoken with the elegant voice of a gentleman

This will be the case regardless of how long you've been together.  In a sense, your relationship will never lose that initial spark of excitement

The man is a scorpio and has a lot of traits that typically characterize natives of this sign (according to the numerous astrology websites I’ve combed through in my lifetime LOL - no offence meant to any lovely scorpio readers!): tall, dark and handsome, intense, guarded and mysterious.  Full of an effortless sensuality and prone to jealousy

He’s the type of man to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while he’s binding your hands to the bedpost or has you bent over his knee

With Lucien, there is always something new to discover, and there are times when you feel like you will never fully understand the depths and complexities of this man.  And like a moth drawn to flame, this will both excite and disconcert you

But one thing will always, always, be crystal clear and unshakeable: the strength and sincerity of his love for you

Lucien is seemingly a man of contradictions, capable of drawing people in with his allure while simultaneously setting them on edge (this is canon)

Get ready to be the envy of all the girls: women are making eyes at Lucien left, right and centre wherever he goes, but he never spares them a single glance — the man only has eyes for you

Lucien is an INTENSE lover in addition to being the perfect gentleman: he will make you feel like the only other person in the world

When he’s with you, you’re the sole focus of his attention: he’s looking you in the eye, nodding his head while you speak, asking the right questions and making appropriate insights.  It’s not so much a casual conversation than really connecting with one another, practically spiritual at times.  He’s not one for meaningless small talk

Even when you’re not with him, you’re never far from his mind.  He’s frequently showering you with gifts for no reason other than the fact that they reminded him of you in some way: a bouquet of your favourite blooms that he saw in the florist’s storefront, a knitted scarf because he remembered the way you pulled up the collar of your coat when he last picked you up from work, a delicate pendant necklace because he can’t get the contours of your collarbones out of his head

He’s kissing your hand, opening doors, pulling out chairs, draping his coat over your shoulders as you walk through the park at dusk on a cool fall evening

He’s tucking stray hairs behind your ear and walking on the outside of the sidewalk to shield you from traffic

He’s also whisking you away into shadowy corners and dark alleyways, kissing you breathless as he presses you up against cool brick — his fervent hand exploring beneath your skirt before he hoists your legs to wrap them about his muscular waist  

You’ve never felt this way about any one else before, and you know you never will again

Being in love with Lucien is like riding a roller coaster: exhilarating, and not for the faint of heart

Kiss Me:

Your first kiss with Lucien is as contradictory as the man himself: objectively tame, yet the most sensual kiss you’ve ever received

After inviting you to an evening screening of Hitchcock’s Rear Window at the cinema, he sees you to your door, patiently waiting as you rummage through your purse for your keys

The man is standing so close that the intensity of his gaze on the back of your neck is practically palpable, so much so that you almost drop your keys when you find them

And when you finally manage to open the door, you’re lingering awkwardly at the threshold, trying to think of any reason at all to stave off that awful word, “Goodbye”

Lucien suddenly reaches out a large hand to gently finger an earring before those elegantly tapered tips graze the sensitive skin of your lobe, sending electricity down your spine and goosebumps blooming across your neck and chest

“I’ve never seen this pair on you before.  Could it be that you got them especially for our date?”

Embarrassed to be found out and not wanting to own up to how eager you were to see Lucien outside a professional capacity, you avert your gaze, staring intently at the ground as your face flushed red

Leaning in closer, the handsome tease chuckles softly, breath hot against your ear when he whispers: “Would you think me foolish if I told you that makes me very happy?"

You're positive your heart is going to beat its way out of your chest

Then slowly…slowly…Lucien’s lips cross from ear to cheek, torturously close to touch as his breath drags light across the ultra fine hairs of your skin

In the meantime, the professor's hand has travelled to the nape of your neck, thumb drawing gentle circles on your skin even as his other arm wraps around your waist to pull you impossibly close

And when those soft lips hover mere millimetres away from yours, you’ve already fallen so deeply into those dark violet eyes that the press of his mouth on your own is as natural as breathing, your lips parting in a desperate plea for him to deepen the kiss

Then, the tip of his tongue lightly traces the inside of your lips, grazing the edges of your teeth before Lucien pulls away to leave you breathless and wanting as he whispers, “Sweet dreams,” with the most devilish smirk

Forget sweet dreams, sleep itself will prove elusive as you spend the night incredibly pent up, knowing a mere wall is the only thing separating you from your seductive neighbour

Say I Love You:

Note: this portion of the headcanon was heavily inspired by Lucien’s Autumn Blaze date

It will take a while for Lucien to tell you he loves you

But when he does, the force and solemnity of his confession leaves absolutely no doubt that this is no mere lip service, that even if you doubt whether the sun will rise the following day, you cannot doubt that — body, heart and soul — Lucien loves you with every fibre of his being

The professor makes good on his promise to take you to visit the Maple Trail in Canada

And there, the two of you wander through a wooded area, secluded amongst the serenity of maple trees with their lush, crimson foliage

Suddenly, a wind blows, soft but insistent to gently shake the boughs until the bright blue sky is momentarily a blazing blur of red, leaves pulled from branches to float to the ground like tiny dancers, as if you and Lucien were encased within some fantastic snow globe

Completely fascinated, it isn't until you turn to Lucien to point out the swirling colours that you see him already staring intently at you, the yearning and melancholy etched into those dark eyes and handsome face made more poignant by the swirls of red that occasionally cut across your vision of the man standing a short distance away, the afternoon sun filtering through a dwindling canopy to bathe him in dappled brilliance.  He never seemed more dignified in his long, black coat as he did amidst a backdrop of vermilion bursts

The man looks almost ethereal.  And for a moment, you're afraid to even speak, let alone touch him, for fear his very being might disperse like mist before your eyes

“I love you.”

His voice is so soft and low that you wonder whether you imagined the words, carried away by an unforgiving gust of wind as soon as they formed on the tip of his tongue.  And just as you open your mouth to respond, you freeze…a nebulous sense of dread rendering you still and mute

You finally regain your senses at the sound of leaves crunching crisp under the soles of Lucien’s shoes as he approaches, but it isn’t until he says, “You’re cold,” that you realize your hands were shaking at your sides.

The professor swiftly unbuttons his wool coat and gently pulls you to his broad chest before wrapping it around you both.  His radiant heat and fresh, clean scent  — simultaneously arousing and comforting — stirs up a keen ache from the pit of your stomach that is quieted the further you bury your face into those hard pecs, allowing the steady beat of his heart to calm your own

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and willing your touch to transmit the emotions you couldn’t find the words to convey at the moment, the absolute euphoria you felt to hear those words fall from Lucien’s lips frightens you.  Because you know, in your heart of hearts, that no matter what happens, you would never love another person the way you loved Lucien.

The First Taste:

As with the professor's confession of love, Lucien isn’t one to rush into sex

When you finally get to doing the deed, it will be passionate, intense, and the closest you'll ever get to a spiritual experience

It will feel like merging physically and emotionally with a soulmate.  Like being reunited with someone who has loved you deeply in every single incarnation of your past lives

It will also absolutely ruin you for anyone else

That first night, you are both almost crazed in your passion, swept up in such a frenzy you’re already clawing at each other’s clothes before the door is even closed

It may have something to do with the fact that the two of you have wanted to jump each other’s bones since day one, despite the fact that you have magically managed to hold out till now.  The delayed gratification will make the act all the more sweet and intense

Lucien’s large hand has got your wrists pinned together above your head even as he’s kicking the door shut, his body pressing yours insistently against the wall as your legs part around his muscular thigh.  Meanwhile, his other hand yanks off his tie, fingers unbuttoning the collar of his dress shirt, which has grown altogether too constrictive, much like the crotch of his pants 😆

The rhythm of his breath is hypnotic as the professor licks the delicate column of your neck in broad strokes before sucking on the tender skin just at the jugular, Lucien deriving indescribable pleasure to feel the minute beat of your pulse against the tip of his tongue

And when he sees the colours that bloom on your flesh as a result of his attentions, he cannot help but smile in admiration at how beautifully marked you are as his woman

You bury your face in the silky strands of Lucien’s ebony hair, surrendering to this man as you drown in his intoxicating scent: the sweetness of freshly-snipped grass and the vitality of rain-drenched earth.  And everything about this moment — about you and him together  — just feels so natural, kismet.  Meant to be.

Then suddenly, the heat that had been simmering beneath your skin flares, and you positively burn for want of his touch on your bare flesh.  So when his hands grip the silk of your blouse to rip it open, your chest heaves in relief as you moan into his kiss, prompting Lucien to deepen it by slipping his tongue further into your mouth

At this point, you're tearing at Lucien's dress shirt and shamelessly grinding onto his thigh, seeking even the slightest bit of friction to ease the intense yearning for release

Your knees go weak when Lucien unhooks your bra to gently slide the straps down your arms, a reverent look upon his face as he takes a moment to admire your breasts before bending to suck a nipple into his wet, hot mouth — one hand pinching and rolling the other to a hardened peak as the other reaches down to feel the moisture dripping between your legs, making a mess of his pants even through satin and lace.

His fingers drive you insane, stroking the swell of your folds through the slick fabric before hooking around to touch you directly, the tight circles he drew about your clit making you twitch before you clenched around his index, middle…and then ring fingers, diving deep in unison until the wet sounds compete with your panting breaths in an otherwise silent room

When the professor finally removes his hand from your pussy, he brings those glistening digits to his lips, making a show of licking your arousal from each finger as he remarks in a deep, husky voice about the sweetness of your taste

Finally pulling off his dress shirt to reveal the perfection that is his broad chest, defined torso and muscular arms, Lucien drops to his knees, gently pulling down your skirt and underwear before he drapes your leg over his shoulder, hands steadying you as he tastes you directly, lips pressing soft on the inside of your thighs before his tongue is running greedily along the length of your folds as if he were trying to slake an unquenchable thirst

Just when you’re about to topple over from a shuddering climax, Lucien wraps your legs around his waist and carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down and kissing your forehead before he rises to step out of his pants

You bite back a gasp when you finally see his erection.  Sure, you had palmed it many, many times before during countless make-out sessions, but you had never seen the full extent of Lucien’s length and girth.  

You secretly thrill at the thought of taking such a well-endowed man within yourself, biting your lip to think of the bittersweetness of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain 

Fighting to control the impatient way your hips lift towards the professor as he coats his cock in your juices — his heat searing as it teased about your entrance — you focus instead on the intensity of his eyes, solemnly locked on yours even as his jaw trembled to feel you envelop him, impossibly tight as he began to push into you

Ever the considerate lover, Lucien pushes in gradually, giving you time to accommodate him - every inch by delicious inch - until he is fully sheathed to the hilt, your pussy clenching even as you breathed deep in an attempt to relax and open yourself further for him

Then, when you smile up at him, Lucien begins to move again, hips slow at first to give you a taste of things to come before he builds up speed, throwing your legs over his shoulders to allow himself to plough deeper into you.  You can literally feel him at the pit of your stomach.

At this point, the headboard is hitting the wall in time to Lucien’s hard thrusts against your body (you make a mental note to apologize to the neighbours later and say you were hanging pictures in the middle of the night)

When the professor suddenly adjusts his angle and hits that spot, his fingers reach once more between your legs to rub at your clit and you fall apart in the midst of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life

Pressing his mouth to yours in another desperate kiss, Lucien's release follows soon after.  And there is something so incredibly satisfying about feeling him spill hot and deep within your body, the man leaving behind a piece of himself like the way he made a home within your heart

And as he pulls you close within a warm embrace, you lay your head against his chest, the gradual descent of his heart rate lulling your pleasantly exhausted body to sleep

“Goodnight, my little butterfly," Lucien whispers, watching your eyelids flutter under the influence of sleep like delicate wings.  His heart has never, ever, felt so full.

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You made it to the end! 😆 Thanks so much for reading, and check out more of my work here! 📚

[doginshoe]

Burning Up, Burnt Out

This is my work for the Nalu and Gruvia big bang @nalugruviaevents! I worked alongside @yaushie, who made the beautiful art to go with the fan fiction I wrote. Thanks to @celestial-fire-writer for being beta once again. Summary:  Set in the year after Alvarez and before Lucy's book signing. The team is on a mission to help a native village on a island, but the celebrations afterwards leave Natsu to do some deep thinking about a certain celestial wizard that won’t seem to leave his mind. 

ART BY @yaushie

The fire roared as cinders rose up in the night much like fireflies, stars gleamed in the night sky and the air tasted of smoked meat as the villagers threw their offerings into the large pit of wicked flames. The people cried out as they rejoiced, clapping their hands to the beats played by the drums. The women with sultry eyes moved around the flames like conspiring Wiccans, rising the spirits from the curling fire as they swayed their bodies in erotic and enticing ways. They stretched their arms high and grinded their hips, flicking their legs high in the air as they jumped to then push down and again use their footwork to circle around the fire.

The men sitting at the edge of the cluster of celebration hollered at the women as their skirts sashayed with their sensuous movements. Their tight bandeau leaving the skin of their midriffs exposed and subject to their hungry gazes of wonder and amazement. Many of them would stray just enough from their tight knit group of dancers to caress the cheek of a surrounding watcher, enticing and drawing them in with their deep gazes until they would lean forward in their daze. Then the women would skip back to join the large burning fire - leaving the crowd breathless and entranced. It was a game of cat and mouse and they were teasing minxes.

Natsu, like many others of the audience, watched on. His dark eyes were drawn into the soft exposed skin covered in a soft sheen of sweat, the strong and long legs that kicked up and the way their breasts were barely concealed in an orange fabric that was lined with gold trim. However, it wasn’t all the dancers that grabbed hold of his gaze. It was the billowing blonde hair that caught his breath, the deep brown eyes that occasionally glanced his way. Lucy, who was twisting and turning amongst the other women, had called him in. Her body stirred something in the pit of his stomach as she seemed to move with the fire, embodying the way the flames flickered and curled behind her.

He was completely enraptured. The thrum of the drums and strum of strings reverberating through his body, cutting off the noise of villagers who joined in the festival. Natsu couldn’t tear his gaze from her being, and he knew she had noticed his unwavering stare on her. Lucy grinded her hips more to the music, arched her back just a little bit further to uncover the view of the delicious skin of her neck, but it was her eyes - the way she peered up at him through thick lashes with flushed cheeks - that made him swallow hard and realise that he had been caught.

She knew he was captivated. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she spun on her feet in rhythm, the deep brown hue making him their victim once again as he was locked in her gaze. He couldn’t count on both his hands and feet how many times her eyes had persuaded him and made his knees weak, lungs breathless - the way they shone when she smiled, crinkling slightly at the side, and sparkling like the stars she beckoned to her side in battle. It was especially painful when they would break in front of him, becoming watery and fragile. Those were times Natsu was lost, when he felt smaller and more vulnerable than when Igneel had disappeared. He couldn’t fight away her sadness. It made him… confused. His heart would feel like stone in his chest as if it had stopped beating and would tumble from its bone cage, a feeling in his throat that threatened to choke him.

She grinned at him. The smile was large as it accompanied her bright eyes, glinting gold from the fire. It pulled Natsu from the thoughts he always found himself puzzled when he looked at the celestial wizard for too long. Her hands clapped above her head before she skipped and flew through the air, her feet coming down to land gracefully before she dipped her body low.

The long blonde locks that had been tied loosely into twin ponytails danced behind her. They shined, illuminated by the flames as they whipped in the fresh night air. The glow reminded him of a far off time, a November sunset - her smile just as wide that day when they had come back from rescuing Macao at Mount Hakobe.

The sun was shining its last rays before it would sink below the horizon. Their shoes scuffing along the cobblestone street as they left the grinning father and son after they successfully brought Macao home to Romeo. The young boy’s shout of thanks echoed in their ears and a small smile still played on the blonde’s lips as they walked beside each other in a comfortable silence. Natsu peered at her from the side. She was strange - that, he was sure of. The newly joined member throwing herself into his business and then complaining every step of the way. Natsu didn’t like people like that. She acted like every other sucker who thought being a mage was a walk in the park and some sort of title that could be thrown around. However, her blind bravery to face the Vulcan alone surprised him; as did her tending to Macao’s wounds and the way she smiled. Natsu had faulted when she had looked back at the snot-nosed kid. He had nearly fallen flat on his face, but he only shook his head slightly, eyes leaving the weirdo to focus back on the path. He hoped Mirajane had something special to eat when he got back.

Natsu tore his gaze from Lucy. The feast before him had been half picked at, which had been extremely unlike him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pick up another mouthful. Gray was still being patched up by the giggling old crones of the village, much to his dismay, and Erza was at the Chief’s table. He noticed Wendy had been dressed in the same outfit that Lucy was wearing, but she stayed far from the show that transpired in the middle of the village. His dark eyes flicked back up to the blonde as his thoughts drifted back to her. That had been happening a lot lately.

A sigh left his lips, the sound giving life to the muddled thoughts that plagued his mind. The mission had meant to be something for them all to unwind and to let them come back down to reality - to make the war a distant memory. However, the fire dragon slayer had only become more tense. His fists clenched at his side and his chest puffed out as he gritted his teeth. It was his instincts gearing him up for a fight. Yet, he couldn’t beat this down. What was he meant to do?

He gulped as the vulnerable feeling clogged his throat. He had learned, he had grown stronger. Fear didn’t stop him anymore. It was welcomed and used strategically against his opponent. Enemies that seemed impossible were always overcome. Natsu was ready to defeat anything in his way to protect his friends - to make sure their smiles kept true.

Lucy remained a puzzle.

He couldn’t get past it. Her eyes led to his lungs dysfunctioning. Her smiles made his palms sweaty with a heart that just wouldn’t stop pounding. The way she smelled, sweet and like the books she spent so much time with; it pulled him to her.

It made Natsu want to tug at his hair. When he had set out alone he spent most of his nights frustrated as he looked up to the stars, his thoughts drifting to the blonde that he left behind. She always said that they guided her, but Natsu only saw the vast midnight sky. The glinting lights seemed to taunt him rather than to offer solace for his troubles.

The celestial wizard wasn’t in danger and he certainly didn’t consider her to be an enemy. She was much more to him. Lucy was Lucy. Yet, she plagued his mind. It felt like he was missing something. The feeling built in his stomach, a nervousness he didn’t quite understand, and it was wrong. How was he meant to protect her from that? Something that was unknown to him?

Natsu felt the drums pick up speed, the vibrations humming in his veins, as the dance was coming to a close. Lucy clapped her hands as she moved her hips along with the other villagers - the movements absolutely tantalising. And Natsu watched her. His eyes filling with longing as they glazed over. She seemed like a friend to the fire as it bathed her in its light - the flames nearly consuming her as she pushed and pulled her body alongside it.

He could always ignore it. Feign ignorance so he could be welcomed into the bliss that he had lived in before he met her. Things would go back to normal. The simple life. It would be as easy as felling the tree that had begun to bind itself in his ribcage - the centre suffocating his heart. The branches would shrivel and slowly fall, the roots no longer embedding themselves in his bones and he would be free.

A thought he had believed foolishly. Even in the beginning he had tried to ignore her. She was a friend… and that was all. He’d asked her to be his partner because her heart was true. There was nothing else. However. it was the small spark, the tiny little wonder that ebbed at his mind that he should have listened to. Even when he thought he had overcome it, she always made sure to relight it. Always putting herself in harm's way for him, and yet he was meant to be the idiot. Natsu always thought the blonde did stupid things; like when she tried to stop the raft when they were battling the Oracion Seis. The girl had no clue what she was doing, yet she held onto him even as they plummeted down a waterfall.

He could still remember the sick feeling that swam in his stomach as he was swept up in the white rapids - Lucy by his side, her arms wrapped tight around him. No one had ever really cared about his motion sickness. It was always something considered a joke in the guild, a running gag people used to get under his skin. At other times it was an annoyance. If it had been anyone else they would have let the river take him. It was his own fault his stomach couldn’t beat the nauseating waves that rocked his mind. But, she was different. Natsu had never had someone care like she did. Running after him in his weakest moments no matter how pathetic they seemed. He would often think about when they fell from the waterfall. The sound of crashing water filling his ears, blocking out every other noise except his pounding heartbeat until they hit the river below. She’d made him fault again. His mind short circuiting when he looked at her until he could push out an earnest thank you.

The fire called to him as it burned, the flames being his own as he started off the celebration in the village with a mighty fire dragon roar. If all the way back then he had acknowledged the growth then maybe it wouldn’t be a mass of vines and prickly branches that threatened to suffocate him nearly every moment. Instead it had to be crushed into him, literally. Being stuck underneath boulders and watching as she refused to run. The same determination would always flicker in her eyes when he saw her in a fight, always reminding him of the time he could’ve lost her.

“Run for it, Lucy! He’s way stronger than he looks!! I’ll figure something out. Just get out of here!” He shouted, his fingers digging into the dirt as he desperately tried to claw his way out. If she had no magic power then-

“I won’t.”

Natsu stilled as her voice cut through the air, his throat going dry as Kain’s foot came down on her body a moment later, crushing her into the ground. He could barely breathe as she screamed out in agony. He could only watch as she was beaten down. Why wouldn’t she run?

Kain kicked her forward, the blonde gasping for breath as he walked over to her limp and bruised body before gripping onto her hair, the tresses spilling through his fingers as he lifted her up to her knees.

“I don’t want… to run away by myself…” she choked as she began to force a smile through the pain, blood dripping down her chin. Those brown eyes shining before they closed, her smile picking up into a grin. “Because…”

Natsu could only remained frozen in place as Kain pulled her higher into the air, his mind screaming at him to do something, anything, but his body wouldn’t listen. It couldn’t. Even with the weight of the rocks crushing him, her words had left him stiff with shock. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as her grin stretched wider and wider, a small blush rising on her cheeks.

“It’s always more fun when we’re together!”

Those words echoed in his heart for a long time after she had said them. It was as if his mind put them on repeat, always bringing him back to that moment at some of the strangest of times. He supposed that was when he really did begin to notice that there was something more with his partner. That moment shattered a wall he didn’t know he had built. He treated everyone at Fairy Tail like family, the people who made the guild a home, and Lucy was the same.

Except…. Lucy herself had become a home. He always found himself coming back to her at the end of a long day. She was comforting, she was strong and she was kind. His partner always managed to find the good in everything. Lucy had become a safe place and he just couldn’t stop himself from always being by her side, or noticing just how small her hands were. Or that little buzz of warmth that would linger when their skin would brush against one another, which seemed to be more often than not.

Natsu sighed as he finally leaned back, he seemed to be the only person not in the spirit of the festivities. He just couldn’t seem to enjoy the celebration even as more people began to join in with the women in the center. Even Wendy was coaxed into joining, Lucy grabbing her hands and pulling her into the group. Their smiles growing brighter as she twirled the younger girl. Everyone was cheering, the beat beginning to shake the table as it grew louder and louder.

After that day he could never stray from her side for too long. Coming back from Tenrou after seven years, he would try and protect her, be someone to rely on like he did with her. Except they were thrown into the Grand Magic Games only a few weeks later where he had to watch her fight and he couldn’t step in. Seeing Minerva torture her as she was defenceless. His hands bled as he had to sit back, nails digging into his palms as he shook with anger.

But, even when he was standing right next to her in front of future Rogue… He had come close to losing her so many times, even when he vowed to be there, just like with all his family. He could never save Lucy. That time would always haunt him. Watching as she fell to the ground, the hand where she had her guild mark... He couldn’t protect her! In two different strands of time he was useless. Lucy’s future was destroyed. She couldn’t be happy.

The tips of his fingers just barely grazed the darkness that took her away. Natsu could barely move as he watched her fall. He was too late. Even if it wasn’t Lucy from his age, from his time. He could’ve saved her. He could’ve fixed everything. It was all too real. If his Lucy wasn’t kneeling beside her he would’ve thought she was actually gone, that the only way he could’ve saved her had slipped right past him.

He knew he had to become stronger. She had dug herself too far into his heart. He would be enough to protect her future. That burned into his resolution when Lucy thanked him, the warmth of her hug still burning where her arms wrapped around him. It was then that he knew she’d always be by his side… because he had a future to protect. He had her future to keep fighting for.

Natsu loved her.

When her body laid limp in his arms, Natsu felt nothing but pain until a snap pulled him into a rage. She was stuck in Dimaria’s suspended time. He knew it now, but seeing her like that - he couldn’t even hear a heartbeat. It was all too much. The future he had promised to fight for, to live for and protect was now lifeless in his arms. That thought alone sent a blinding shock through his system, the feeling taking over his senses as he lost control. It was pathetic, but Natsu let himself to succumb to it. He would have fought the demon that was taking over, the END seed that was planted within him slowly sprouting as it filled him with poison, the whispers sometimes still echoing in his mind. He could only be thankful that Gray, and then Erza, had stepped in his way. They stalled his maniacal mission just long enough for him to collapse into her arms. He was home again and the anger washed away.

No matter what they went through they would always be together. Side by side. It didn’t matter whether they were battling some petty dark guild or stopping the end of the world. Today and everyday would always be an adventure. He knew it when he was falling out of the sky. His body battered from fighting with Acnologia, but a giant grin on his face as he knew who gave him the strength so he could do it.

He could barely contain the grin that pulled on his lips as he bared his teeth. Her eyes were blown wide as she stared at him in shock, Happy was in her arms beaming at him. When she smiled back up at him, tears filling her eyes, he knew that he was home. Lucy was home. The three of them would always be a family. A team.

“I’m home!” He chuckled, his smile beaming even wider.

She opened her mouth, a stray tear dribbling down her cheek as she managed to find her voice. Knowing they had finally won. That they had saved the world. She knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Natsu.

“Welcome home!” She cried and he felt the warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment Natsu knew that he could accomplish anything because he always had someone to return to - his guild, his best friend and a particular blonde that managed to start a fire in his heart.

His eyes were glued to Lucy as the dance came to an end. She kicked her leg into the air, following the rest of the group as they finished the song. The drums were intense as she twisted and moved around the fire, a sheen of sweat making her body shine in the fire light. With every spin and dip the flames seemed to copy her. His flames. Natsu couldn’t stop himself from staring. She had never looked more ethereal than in this moment. Her hair spun like gold thread as she turned with the fire behind her. Her hips drawing him in and alighting the embers in his chest, burning him up from the inside. The way she seemed to almost glow had him captivated - it was as if she was a goddess teasing him. Her long legs making his blood pump as they pulled down before leaping into the air. He had been in love with her since long ago.

The last hit on the drum resounded out in the village as all the dancers raised their hands, their chests rising and falling as their lungs struggled to heave in a breath from the movements of the dance. Her eyes burned into his as she grinned before being engulfed with the crowd. The people’s joyous cries replacing the beat that once hummed throughout the village.

She had been swept away from him as he sat in front of his meal. Natsu clenched his fist, offering his gaze back up to the heavens that could only mock him. The twinkling lights glinting down at him like all those nights before. Natsu cursed as he stood from his spot, glancing back at the blonde to find her and Wendy raised up by the village, the younger girl looking more sick than anything whilst Lucy laughed.

He smiled softly before he walked away. He had spent too much time caught up with the celestial spirit mage. Though he knew that he couldn’t help the pull that she had over him. It was as if Lucy was fire itself - a fire he couldn’t control. Ironic, considering the fact that fire was his to wield and command.

A sigh left his lips as his feet kept him walking to the edge of the village, where he could get away from the noise and away from her. He hoped it would ease the unwanted feelings. Yet, it never did. Natsu knew it, but he still walked - his eyes coming back to the stars as he breathed in the crisp air. When he exhaled the puff of air, it came out as smoke.

Tonight, seeing Lucy move that way, was almost earth shattering. She’d stirred up the heat in his chest once again, setting him alight and raising the flames higher and higher with every movement she made alongside the bonfire behind her. It was completely mesmerising. The heat seemed to lick at her skin and embody her very being. It only made the feelings harder to ignore as the embers rose into a wildfire.

Natsu wanted her. Lucy was just… Lucy. She was so good to him, so tantalisingly good that it made him feel weak at the knees. That vulnerable feeling that ate him up was because she made him feel like he was going to lose control. He wanted to hold her close, feel her soft flesh against his and breathe in that sent that made his mind go blank. She was everything to him. The blonde that had treated him to a meal all those years ago becoming someone he didn’t want to live without - someone he couldn't.

Natsu had to steady himself against a tree on the outskirts of the village, his heart rate becoming erratic when he thought of everything he wanted with Lucy. He wanted them to spend every moment together, each day planned with Lucy and leading her off to one mission then the next. However, as time passed he soon noticed that his plans with the blonde took at different turn. The thought of her soft pink lips and smooth skin playing on his mind. That was what had control of him now. The idea of her wrapped in his flames as he took her hard. The blush on her cheeks and how her mouth would part in a soft moan - it all made him feverish.

He was caught in a mess, Natsu shaking his head as he tried to collect his thoughts with a deep breath. He wanted Lucy, no, needed her. She had lit a fire that couldn’t be put out and he couldn’t wait to pull her into his chest and crash his lips onto her own. He loved her and by gods it was time she knew.

He had to tell her, his feet pushing him forward to where the team took rest. This feeling - the jitters that spun webs in his gut - only ushered him to continue forward and quickened his pace. He knew that Lucy was different, he had known from the very start. It had scared him. Igneel never mentioned anything to do with love. Even Makarov had only taught him one important lesson that he kept for the rest of his life, to love your family and to keep them safe.

The torches lit his way as he stumbled past people who had gotten too ahead of themselves in the festivities. Except as he rounded a corner and heard her laugh - his steps picked up into a sprint. The time was now, this is what he needed to do.

“Luc-”

Yet in all his resolve, he found himself pausing. There she was. His partner, but she wasn’t alone. He watched as she laughed, the sweet sound resonating in his ears, while waving away Happy. His best friend breezed up in the air as he yelled at the blonde. The faint traces of their conversation tell him that she’d insulted his chances of ever being the right man for Charla.

Now was his chance, but Natsu couldn't bring himself to take another step. Maybe it was the jittery nerves finally freezing up his muscles, or that she had made him falter again. All he knew was that as he watched his team, no - his family - he felt complete in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Lucy was softly smiling as she patted Happy on the back. Her outfit from the dance was gone. It was just her. It was Lucy. Her hair had been taken back up into her pony tail that she had started wearing when he had left her for a year. Her keys were placed on the right side of her hip, the usual brown belt holding them in place. Although she had grown over the years, the blonde hair now reaching past her shoulders and her outfits always being swapped, she was still the same. Her brown eyes were still kind. Their depths drawing him in every time he stared in them for too long, Just like everyone else, she would fight till her last breath for their guild - for him. Lucy was home.

As he watched them, the fire that had been burning so fiercely only blazed brighter. For so long he had been fighting it, thinking the roots that nearly suffocated him would form a forest and leave him in the dark. Now he felt as if he could breathe easier than ever before. This was his team, his family.

Natsu barely registered what was happening before he slipped his arms around both their shoulders, pulling his partners to him in a crushing side hug. His words left his lips as naturally as all the other times before.

“Whatcha guys doing?”

Happy cried out, “Natsu!” but he barely heard his partner as he felt a familiar pair of brown eyes staring at his face. It was Lucy, peering up at him with that concerned look she always wore. 

“Where have you been? I was looking all over for you after the dance, but you were gone.”

She blinked and when Natsu turned he felt that familiar sensation, the second where his brain stopped functioning for just a moment. Those eyes would really be the death of him.

A wide grin crept up on his face, his canines flashing at her as he pulled them along forward. “I’ve been here weirdo. Don’t tell me you’re going blind now too,” he spoke before his gaze turned forward, “Come on! I heard there’s leftovers.”

“Aye!” Happy cheered as he flew from Natsu’s grip into the air, leaving him with just his arm around the blonde that nearly gave him heart palpitations. He felt the nervousness begin to swim in his gut, he knew she’d keep asking questions. The blonde blinked and to his surprise a soft laugh left her lips, her hand coming up to hide her face before she smiled.

“Yeah, I am still a bit hungry,” she breathed as she wiped her brow, “That dancing was really hard.”

Natu’s grin stretched even wider, if it was possible, as he raised his hand into the air. “To the leftovers!” he shouted, and his partners echoed his words before they dashed off. The task becoming a race in a few short moments that was soon joined in by Gray. Though, they didn’t get to destroy anything before Erza had stepped in with a giggling Wendy in tow. He grumbled as he rubbed the beginnings of what was soon to become an egg on his head, but a sweet melody lifted him from his troubles. He stared up to the smiling blonde and the grin came up on his face again.

This was his family, and he could still love Lucy. He didn’t need to change anything.

We’ll be together forever from now on

[beyondtheciouds]

Vampires, Stale Scones, and Lucie Herondale

Part 2.

Lucie had successfully avoided Matthew’s painfully awkward question. 

Did Lucie love Jesse? 

The thought invaded her mind; curved into and controlled her emotions like a parasite. Lucie decided she had one choice and followed through. She promptly and conveniently pretended to fall asleep moments after he asked one of many questions she dreaded. Lucie could not trust herself to give him the answer he wanted, it seemed simple enough. She did not want to hurt Math, especially since they were chained to one another.

Plus, who knew what horrible, horrible plans Tatiana and Belial had for them!

Lucie felt guilty enough and thought reluctantly of the last words she had said to him. These words had escaped her hours before Grace threw her to the wolves. I love you too, Matthew Fairchild.

 Did she mean those three words? Lucie didn't know. All she was aware of was that she could not trust herself to be honest with him then, so how did she expect herself to be now? She did not want to inflict unnecessary pain on Math if it wasn't true.

Fatigue and hunger had staked their claim on her and for a little while, she slept. Now, she coughs as she struggles to free herself from her vivid dreams of decaying bodies. Her body arches as gurgling noises erupt from her belly and she clenches her teeth as she fights the pang of hunger. She has not eaten in three days.

Matthew's snores fill her ears, deep in the core of her dreams like the monsters under her bed. 

"Lucie. Luuucie. Wake up, Lu."

Her eyes snap beneath the sand-man crusted lids to someone calling her name. For a fleeting moment, Lucie thinks the voice is Will’s. She strains to listen, her neck stretching towards the sound. The imaginary sound of her father’s calming tone wills Lucie to listen. The voice sounds different although it is gentle and urgent; a fading whisper. 

Lucie is stiff, her arm feels numb and her wrist is throbbing beneath the cold metal. The cool touch of a hand rests on her shoulder and her eyes shoot open. Another cough escapes her scratchy throat as she searches the darkness, "Jesse?"

 Matthew's head is still resting in her lap; his wet cheek pressed against her thigh. Lucie’s free hand is woven and tangled in damp strands of gold and bronze. Matthew’s evergreen eyes are closed and he blissfully is sound asleep. During the night, Lucie awoke several times to find that he was twitching and shaking; sweating and moaning. He was cursing and occasionally mumbling incoherently.

 Lucie had been good to him and rubbed his head; his back and shoulders with her free hand. All was done in a bleak attempt to console him and shut him up. Lucie wonders how many days it had been since his last drink. She doesn’t know if it has been one or more. 

Now, glancing down at him she watches his chest rise and fall in a rhythmic motion. Her fingers glide out of his hair and down his forehead. She presses the back of her hand against his skin like her mother had taught her to do. Would she always have to take care of him like this?

Matthew would have a lot of growing up to do and so would Lucie. 

Lucie flips her hand over, her palm on his forehead as she considers a future with the Consul’s second son. She is having a hard time imagining herself as a wife to the wild libertine.  Could she settle for the lie? Is it a lie?

Matthew’s skin is dry and clammy. He looks like an angel when he sleeps and the image of him throws Lucie a curve; her heart flutters in her chest. Peaceful, Matthew had finally stopped sweating and his fever seems to have broken. Lucie is relieved and allows herself a small smile. 

A movement in the shadows catches her eye and gives her chills; goosebumps race along with her pale skin, almost like fingertips. Blue eyes shift over to the wall and her eyes spot her ghost in the shaft of moonlight; translucent but still very real. Jesse is leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and he does not look pleased. His usual smirk is gone, replaced with his lips pulled tight. "I'm here, Lu."

Lucie squints, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness surrounding her. "You know, don't you?" she askes, a tremble in her voice. She is cutting to the chase because this is one thing she is not going to wait on.

Jesse nods, solemn.”You looked beautiful that night Lucie,” he says slowly and pauses, getting lost in the glare of memory.

 “I did not mean for anything to happen with Matthew, Jesse. You must know that.” 

“Lulu,” his voice is a melody; the song of her heart.

Lucie's breath catches, "Jesse."

He is a winter night; stark black and white bathed in the sliver of silver moonlight. "Too beautiful. I had wished it was me with you in my arms."

Lucie blushes in the dark, but she is unsure of how to take the tone of his compliment. Her voice is rough, whispered in the dark as she throws her head back in shock at his admission. Her heart is under attack like a thunderclap in her chest. More than anything she wants to touch him; feel his pallid skin against hers. The shadow of doubt looms over the glimmer of hope; breaking her open like a rainstorm. "Jesse, I'm sorry."

Can we forgive and forget? Unspoken with all the lights out, the words fall between the ghost and the girl in the cell. The insidiousness of her doubt creeps up on the girl. She knows she will never hold him and it is far too much for such a young heart to bear.  

Lucie's mind is a whirl, even in a state of hunger and sorrow she finds a way to think of a storyline.  

 "Yes, I know, Lu. Although I am.. am...” Jesse pauses, thoughtful. He can’t put his feelings into words. “I don't blame you." His voice is still soft, teetering on the edge of the lust that was there moments ago, his eyes lingering on the boy sleeping in her lap. 

Jesse’s green eyes are glowing; neon green in the darkness as he takes in the length of Matthew’s body. "Matthew is a sick boy," Jesse pauses, considering the depth of Matthew’s inner demons. "maybe he is sicker than I was.” 

Lucie frowns, “Matthew wasn’t always like this...He was....” She trails off, remembering Math as a child. She does not have the words to describe the beautiful and damaged boy in her lap. 

Jesse’s anorexic shoulders seem to slump and Lucie knows if he could draw a breath, he would have sighed.  “I know he needs you to lean on to help get him through his problems. I get that because he is a childhood friend, you have a loyalty to those you love. Even though I understand, that does not mean I like seeing you with him."

Lucie shakes her head, brown, knotted strands untangling from her loose braid. A barrage of unexpected sobs erupts from her mouth and snot from her nose. "Cordelia is wrong," she says abruptly. "People can not fix people."

Jesse stares at her, confused. He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step forwards into the darkness that is slowly swallowing Lucie. "What do you mean?"

"I can't fix, Matthew. No one can.” A pause and her chest heaves. “I can't fix you, Jesse. Only black magic can." Lucie clears her throat, another set of sobs building. "Hell, I can't even get out of this mess I have made."

"Luce, that is not true." Panic rises in Jesse's voice and his eyes go wide at the thought of losing the only shard of light in his mirror of darkness. "Please, Luce. We will find a way... I will convince Mother to let you go, " Jesse uncrosses his arms, lowering them. He places the palms out as if he means to grab her. "we could be together... we could run away. "

Lucie breaks down, removing her hand from Matthew's head of hair. "I am useless, Jesse. Purely useless as a Shadowhunter." She pauses and looks up at him, her eyes shiny blue and bleak. "Surely I have disappointed you and you will tell Grace."

"No, Luce.." Jesse begins and trails off, rattled.

The entire reality of her situation had finally cracked Lucie's resolve. She turns her face away as Jesse takes a few tentative steps without saying another word. He has never seen Lucie so broken before, he doesn't know how to react or what else he can say.

Lucie sobs into her free arm, struggling to be quiet. Matthew's eyes, redrimmed and bloodshot, shoot open as if he hears her. He leans into her and breathes in deep, exhaling as his gaze focuses on Lucie's face. "Luce? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Lucie straightens and ceases her childish crying session. She is stilled by the longing looks Jesse is giving her. She can’t let Matthew see her so overwhelmed. She needs to be strong as she hastily wipes her eyes on her sleeve. 

Lucie takes a deep breath and pretends to play with the metal chain attached to her handcuff. She looks away from where Jesse still stands, frozen. He is watching her sullenly as she exhales.

 "My wrist hurts," she says, glancing down at Matthew. "and it feels raw like the skin is rubbing off."

A lame excuse, but one he will believe.

Matthew smiles weakly, "Want an izrate? I still have my stele."

Lucie raises an eyebrow at him. "Belial let you keep it?"

Matthew shakes his head, smiling deviously in the dark. "Guess that vampire forgot I had it."

Lucie grins at him, "Smooth, Fairchild. Smooth." She waits for a beat for Jesse to vanish and when he doesn't, she nods her head at Matthew. "Alright, give me one."

Matthew sits up and digs in the pocket of his gear jacket. A second later he pulls out his stele, still intact. "Where should I draw the izrates?"

Jesse takes a few steps forward. For a moment Lucie thinks she sees curiosity flicker in his eyes as he watches Matthew lean over, the stele steady in one hand while the other gently brushes Lucie’s braid to the side like he has done this thousands of times to her. 

Lucie rolls the shoulder of her chained arm, trying to not wince as she glances over her shoulder. Matthew is smiling. "Anywhere on this arm Math," Lucie says, turning her gaze back to Jesse. 

Jesse kneels in front of Lucie, his eyes wide and curious. It dawns on Lucie this may be the first time he is watching a rune drawn up close. The thought stings and she gazes sadly at the burn in the shape of an eye on his right hand.

Two sets of different eyes stare at Lucie. Both shades of green watch her intensely as Matthew slips the arm of her dress down, over her arm. It drops soundlessly to the crook of her elbow. Lucie's corset is visible and Jesse stares in quiet admiration, wondering how many times Matthew has taken off her dress. Jesse is shy and bites his lower lip. Pale skin blushes as much as a ghost can. He does not move and to his own shock, he doesn't shy away. 

He is intrigued.

Matthew concentrates, his tongue peeking out of his lips. His hand is steady as he starts to draw the rune on the back of Lucie's arm. A moment later, Lucie feels the comforting burn on her skin. Her rune reminds her she is strong; she will escape this Hell. 

Matthew is precise and slow with the deliberate movement of his stele. Sudden heat floods Lucie's cheeks as he finishes and pulls his hand away. Lucie can feel his eyes still burning on her flesh. His gaze is intense like he is an artist and her body is the canvas. "Another, Luce?"

Lucie nods, closing her eyes. "Would an open rune work on my cuff, you think?" She asks, desperately needing the distraction.

Matthew sighs, licking his lips as his hand trembles. “We could certainly try.”

Jesse is still watching, his head tilted to the side like a curious dog. His sea-green eyes are luminous as he watches Matthew draw another izrate on Lucie’s bare shoulder.

***

Hours passed and the sun has risen; light illuminating the stone walls; attaching rays of gold to Lucie’s light brown hair.  Lucie was disappointed that the open rune did not work. They had each tried, drawing it from memory on the lock. Lucie’s hand still aches from the determined grip she had on Matthew’s stele, hardly aware that she was begging Raziel for a slice of luck out loud. 

Jesse had vanished from the cell once the sunlight trickled in, leaving her and Matthew in awkward but not unpleasant silence. 

Lucie knew Math was still expecting some kind of answer from her. Lucie had no answers and she wondered if it would be easier just to die.

Her blue eyes cast a sideways glance at Matthew. Her lips are set in a thin line, wondering if he had heard all of her exchange with Jesse last night. She decides after a moment not to pursue it by asking questions. 

She turns her gaze away from Math, her eyebrows furrow in concentration. She breaks the silence by thinking out loud. “Alright, so, James and Cordelia are presumed...missing...” Lucie clears her throat, trailing off. The idea of Jamie and Daisy in trouble makes her heart sink. She has to figure out a way out; a way to save herself and them. She hopes her parents and the families are also searching for the four of them. A bitterness curls her heartstrings as she scrunches her forehead, thinking out her plan. “ And you last saw them in the forest... five miles away?”

She wishes she hadn’t been fooled by Grace. 

She wishes she never snuck out that night. 

She wishes she had seen Jesse hiding behind that tree as Matthew ripped open her corset. 

Anxiety was making her ideas jumbled in a knot she could get loose. Memories of that night clouded in clusters of hot and cold across her skin as she catches Math’s eye once more.  

“ Yes, “ Matthew sighs, scooting closer to her, his hands on his knees. “Unfortunately, they are lost, looking for us, or Belial caught them and has them locked up somewhere.” 

Lucie frowns, pulling her gaze away. She stares at the rat chowing down on some scone crumbs. She does not want to think about her brother and her parabatai chained up or worse. Instead of dwelling, she keeps trying to remember Belial’s words to her the previous day when she demanded to speak with her brother. 

She thinks it would help, but she cannot remember. “He was acting sort of suspicious, but that might normal behavior for a Prince of Hell.”

Matthew kicks a scone away with the toe of his boot. His knees are drawn up and his head is lowered. His mossy eyes stare blankly at the stone floor and Lucie wonders if he is purposely avoiding her.  He shrugs his shoulders and she cannot help but stare at the roll of muscle under the tight fabric of his gear jacket. “Either way we have to come up with some kind of plan. What do you propose?”

Footsteps on the stairs disrupt Lucie before she has a chance to open her mouth in response.  Grace’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard.  Both Lucie and Matthew flinch as they glance up. 

“Hungry?” Grace calls, coming in to view carrying a plate of moldy scones and a pitcher of water.