#they all know their father uses them more than he loves them or care for their concerns

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

clark kent loves quietly

This is a collection of head canons I wrote with David!Clark in mind, but would really work for any Clark iteration. That teaser trailer did something to my brain

He knows that you hate being spooked, and his quiet footfalls have gotten the better of you more times than you would ever admit. When he comes home from a day of work, or finds you tucked into whatever you are working on, he purposefully makes sure that his footfalls are heavy, so that you hear him coming. You jump slightly when he notches his chin in the space between your head and shoulder, but he is quick to squeeze you tight and soothe them away. 

You would think that he tries to fight your battles for you, protection hard wired into his veins. But he’s much the opposite. He knows that you can take care of yourself (super-human threats excluded, of course) and is happy to watch you stand up for yourself. It’s nice to see you love yourself loudly by making your wishes known. 

This man can cook. He spent a lot of time with his mom in the kitchen, who used cooking to cope after his father passed. He absorbed every second of it, intent on making the memories last. Food is one of his love languages now. He will pick up your favorites if he is eating out, but when you are having a particularly hard day, he plops you down on the couch with your beverage of choice in hand, and insists you don’t move. You had assumed that cooking would be frustrating for him, all the super speed in the world can’t make onions caramelize faster, but he finds it so soothing- especially when he knows that you’re going to give him one of your big smiles, the kind saved just for him, at the end of it all. His specialties are casseroles and chilis and his mom’s fluffy biscuits, if you were wondering. 

Does his best to mind his business (keeping his super hearing off the speed of your heart) as long as you promise to let him know what is bothering you as soon as you’re comfortable. He hates to see you hurting, but also respects that sometimes you need to process on your own. It’s unspoken between the two of you, you’ll curl up with him when you’re ready and spill your guts, and he will have a super powered ear at the ready. 

Any of your accomplishments are office gossip for weeks, because he is telling everyone. A picture of you with the degree you finished several months into dating is framed on his desk, when you accept his proposal he finds ways to slip it into most conversations. You always blush, which fills him with pride. He insists it isn’t gossiping if it’s talking about yourself. You smile and resist the urge to point out that it is often more so about you. He views you as a singular unit in all things, and you can’t find it in yourself to complain.

Clark was simultaneously terrified when you figured out that he was the one flying around the city fighting super humans (and rescuing the occasional cat stuck in a tree), and not the least bit surprised. He has long considered you one of the smartest people that he has ever known. He chides himself for not preparing for it better. He stood speechless for several moments, before tripping over his words, a muddled confusion of explanation and apology. He calmed when you smiled shyly at him, approaching him like he might spook at any minute. He stilled, allowing you to take control of the situation and gently slip your hand into his. You squeezed, he squeezed back, and the rest was history.

[writingsbychlo]

DECK THE HALLS | DRACO MALFOY

SUMMARY: Narcissa has big plans for her son's girlfriend this time of year, and you're determined to live up to her expectations. WORD COUNT: 7680 NOTES: The first fic of this year's Christmas series, and I think you guys will really love it! It's cute, it's sweet, and it's just the right amount of sassy-Draco.

The moment you sank into the seat beside him, Draco pushed a cup of your favourite herbal tea across to you, his lips brushing your cheek as he whispered a sleepy greeting. Opposite you, Mattheo was half-asleep above his bowl of cereal, his head tipping forward precariously — and a slight thrill shot through you at the idea of him dropping face-first into the milky bowl. 

“You’re evil for choosing a six am lecture, do you know that? And they think Matt’s father is the darkest wizard there is.” Daphne groaned as she shuffled into the kitchenette of your small, shared flat in her bunny-eared muggle slippers. Chancing a glance at Draco, you didn’t miss the disgraced twist to his lips as he eyed them. Just like always. 

“Nobody forced you to get up at this time, y’know.” You teased, blowing the steam away from your mug, and Mattheo’s head lulled forward just far enough to fall when the toast popped. He jerked his head back up, only inches from getting a face-full of milk and rice crispies, and you pouted in disappointment as he blinked himself back awake, and scooped some more into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. “Why do you get up at this time every day?”

“Because Dray makes us all breakfast if we do!” Daphne chirped, adjusting far better to the early rise than your other roommate, who would be cranky until noon, even without face-planting his crackling snack. 

“Correction, I make my girlfriend breakfast, and you two just pilfer food that isn’t yours.” He snarked, buttering the toast, and kissing the top of your head a moment later as he placed it down in front of you. Moments later, a teapot, jam, a plate of only slightly too-crispy bacon and hashbrowns floated over too, laying themselves out on the table along with plates and cutlery. 

Since his insistence on moving into his own accommodation at the start of university, Draco had been practising his cooking skills. After setting off the fire alarms every day for the first two weeks and screaming every insult under the sun at the beeping box on the ceiling, he’d started to become quite adept at it. 

A harmony settled across the table as you all tucked into your food, only the scrape of butter on toast and the occasional squeak of metal on pottery sounded, the tea in your mug sinking dwindling as the clock on the wall ticked on. Finally, when it was time to leave, you floated all the dishes to the sink, and let Draco trail you to the door of your cramped apartment. Wrapping a thick scarf around your neck, he used it to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your lips when you grumbled;

“I have to go, Dray.”

“I know.” He mused, licking across your lower lip in that same way that always made your legs tremble a little. 

“Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your boyfriend teased, his hands sneaking around your waist to pull you in close. Your hand, that had been reaching for your coat, somehow found itself tangling into those soft blonde strands instead. 

“I’m going to be late.” Your murmur was swallowed by his mouth closing over your own, a wider kiss, covering your mouth and you sagged into him. He was practically radiating smugness, the squeeze of his arms around you, the arrogance in his breathy chuckle. “Dray…”

“Mmmh?”

“I—”

A tapping at the window cut you off, and Draco pulled back with an indignant sound, whipping his head around to look at the window. He sighed with agitation, “Do you think my mother simply does not care that our apartment building is Muggle, or does she still think Muggles use carrier pigeons?” 

You smothered a laugh as he made his way over to the window, taking a little more effort to open it as ice frosted the seals closed, but when he finally did, the tawny brown owl acknowledged him with a rather irritated hoot. The moment Draco had taken the letter, it was stretching its wings, flapping again and taking off into the murky dawn light. 

Tugging on your coat as he closed the window back up and shuddered, you shouldered your bag. Upon seeing your progress towards leaving, and another morning of failing to hinder your departure, Draco pouted. His attention turned to the letter in his hands as you opened the front door. “It’s for you.”

“What?”

“My mother, she sent the letter to you. Do you want me to leave it on your—”

“Give it here!” You squeaked, lunging for the letter, and letting the door fall back shut as you snatched it from his hands. Just like he said, elegantly scrawled across the front in Narcissa’s handwriting was your name, and a flush of nervous heat flooded your body. Suddenly, despite the ice and snow outside, you were wearing too many layers. 

“I thought you had to leave?”

“It’s a letter from your mother! I can’t leave this until later!” Turning it over and running a shaky finger under the seal with the Malfoy signet, you popped it open, the envelope falling open into a folded parchment with the same lovely handwriting contained inside.

Scanning your eyes over the words, seconds seemed to drag on into endless minutes, as you read it again and again. At last, you clutched the letter to your chest, peering up at your confused boyfriend with wide eyes. “So, what did she say?”

“She wants me to plan the annual Christmas Eve party this year.”

Your breathing was light and shallow as you sat inside the restaurant, smoothing down floo-rumpled hair that had taken Daphne almost an hour to style for you. Your dress was new, courtesy of a panicky shopping trip with Draco after insisting you had nothing appropriate to wear to eat dinner with his mother. Your lipstick was the perfect shade and you’d made sure your perfume was just on the right side of decorous, not the sultry date night scent you typically wore to places like this. 

And still, despite all your preparations, your hand trembled as you picked up your water glass and brought it to your lips. 

And then, the green flames at the front of the restaurant flashed once again, and out stepped Narcissa Malfoy. Sophistication incarnate, she smoothed her hand down the front of her dress, one that made your own feel like a burlap sack. Several members of staff flooded to her side before she’d even finished stepping down from the line of fireplaces, and she smiled politely as she handed over her coat. Inquisitive gaze flicking over the room, that smile became genuine as she set her sights on you sitting at the table already, and she walked through the room like she owned it as she made her way to you. 

Standing as she approached, she let out a regal scoff —how she managed to make a scoff sound so posh was beyond you— and waved a hand in the air. “No need for formalities, dear. Sit, please.”

She kissed both of your cheeks, before pointing to your chair, and you sank into it as she settled into hers. “It’s so lovely to see you, Narcissa. I was surprised you wanted to see me, alone. Draco is—”

“Draco is probably pacing in that little apartment you both live in that he insists upon. Why he forces you to live there when he could have much nicer accommodations is beyond me.”

“It’s a nice apartment. We bought some lovely throw blankets.” Hiding your smile in your glass, your laugh at her expression bubbled your water, and heat rushed to your cheeks as you lowered it and patted at your lip. “I’m so sorry.”

The woman before you only chuckled privately and raised her hand to a waiter. The young man hurried over, cracking open a bottle of white wine without even having to be told, and Narcissa smiled at your confusion. “I have the same wine every time I come, this quaint little place is a favourite of mine. Did you know Lucius attended this same university when he was your age?”

You tried not to hang on the word quaint, thanking the waiter as he poured you a glass too, before hurrying from the table once again. Instead, you moved on to something else, “Which university did you attend, Mrs Malfoy?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t attend university, dear. In my day, a woman was never supposed to be more intelligent than her husband. Educated, of course, but not too smart.” A fond look passed over her features, “Though, Lucius has never seemed to mind. I have read enough to possess multiple degrees by now, he is not intimidated by my curiosity for knowledge. It is one of the reasons I love my husband. But, enough about me.”

Your breathing hitched as her eyes sharpened on you once again. She toyed with the bracelet on her wrist and plucked off a small charm. Placing it on the table, with a single muttered incantation, a gorgeous, pure-leather briefcase with her initials embedded on the side in gold, filled the available space. The clasps popped open, and she peered at you over the lid. 

“Let’s skip the small talk, shall we, dear? We have much to discuss. You know what you’d like to eat, I presume?”

You did not, in fact, know what you wanted, but you nodded regardless, and picked the first thing from the menu that came to mind. When your order was given, Narcissa placed a delicate pair of reading glasses onto her nose and began to pull out papers and folders to stack beside her wine glass. 

“You shall host the Christmas Eve party this year, but despite it being loosely called a ‘party’, it is so much more. It is a social event, a business event, and one of the most desired gatherings of the year. It is exclusive, thousands of wizards globally vie for a spot on this guest list and most are disappointed year in and year out. It must be spectacular, splendid, and unique. Repeated themes are the death of any social event, as I’m sure you know.” Peering over the rim of her glasses at you, she raised a manicured eyebrow inquisitorially. “Are you taking notes?”

With a jump, you reached for your far less elegantly-stored bag on the back of your chair, and rooted through for your notebook and QuickQuill, setting it to work atop the table as she continued to speak. 

“I have brought my records for the last ten years, and a list of the themes dating back the last thirty, in order to help you. I have also included a copy of any and all documents I typically use, to help you out a little. Nobody helped me when I first began. Merlin, Lucius’ mother hated me until the wonderful day the old hag died, she wanted to see me fail. I do not want to see you fail.” She looked up as the scribbling of the quill on your paper stopped at her small rant. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I, uhh, I—” You stumbled over your words, clearing your throat as she closed the briefcase and linked her hands, setting them upon the tabletop with poise as she waited, “I’m just wondering why?”

“Why?” She sniffed, pushing her glasses further up her nose and raising one brow into a high arch. “Why what?”

“Why you’re giving this to me? It’s an honour, truly, but I’m just wondering why you would put something so important, your family’s name, into my hands?”

At that, Narcissa’s lips turned up into a fond smile, and her head tipped to the side. “My son loves you.”

After a moment’s pause, you nodded, throat feeling thick. “He does.”

“I am happy for him. He adores you, as he should. You are a wonderful girl, my dear. I do not want you to have the harsh break into this world that I did. I thought I had been prepared to become a wife, I was an heir of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, but a union between the most noble House of Black and the most powerful House of Malfoy created something else entirely. You, you are clearly Draco’s one. The men in this family love wholly, powerfully, and obsessively. You will be a Malfoy one day, and I wish for you to be ready. I wish to guide you in a way nobody guided me.”

Words froze in your throat, and tears prickled behind your eyes are her words. “You really think that? You think Draco will marry me one day?”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t already thinking about it. He is, at the end of the day, still a high-society boy raised to find a suitable wife.” She left her statement short and succinct, and you sniffed lightly to hold back your feelings. “Do not cry.”

“Sorry, I—”

“I mean it. Do not start crying. We have work to do.” 

You nodded, but then she smiled fondly, and a small and emotional squeak escaped you.

The number of notes Narcissa had given you at dinner alone had required their own folder entirely to properly organise. So this morning, you’d braved yourself on a journey out in the ice and snow to a local stationary store to pick up two more. Surrounded by open folders, QuickQuills, and some coloured tabs and inky pens deemed highlighters that you’d noticed some Muggle girls picking up, you had set to work hours ago. 

Your neck ached, your back was sore, and two of your QuickQuills had broken while the notepad in your lap had more pages torn out in frustration than actually had useful ideas and notes. 

That, and Draco had been needy since the moment he’d gotten home, laying himself out dramatically on the floor in front of you and trading refills on your tea for kisses. Some time ago, he’d convinced you to take a break for dinner and to do your homework together at the table. 

Now, the sun had set, Mattheo had long since returned from his part-time job at the record store, and Daphne had come back from her weekend study group, gotten ready, and gone back out for a date, and you still felt like you hadn't quite done enough. If the stress of party planning didn’t kill you, it was certainly going to cripple you. 

Stretching your arms over your head from where you perched before the coffee table, you pushed your legs out into any space available. As you did, a relieved groan slipped free at the delicious pain of tight muscles unfurling in your back. Draco cupped your chin, tipping your head back to drop a kiss onto your lips as he passed by to go to the kitchen, leaving his book marked and closed on the side of the couch. 

You listened to him make another cup of tea, rubbing blurry eyes and attempting to focus once again. Just before you could re-enter the zone, tapping on glass broke your focus, and you heard Draco sigh. Cracking open a window, he retrieved whatever had been sent, feeding the bird a few treats before sending it on its way again and closing out the cold chill of the December night. 

He appeared moments later, his black and white Christmas-themed socks filling your peripherals. 

“Another letter for you, from my mother.” Draco drawled, passing the envelope to you as you glanced up from your folders. He waved it before your face, and you snatched it with a scowl, adding in a glare for emphasis when he only laughed. “You know, she writes to you more than she writes to me these days.”

“Yes, well, we complain to one another about the terrors of you Malfoy men and how we’re supposed to put up with you.” Your words were muttered amid distraction, skimming your gaze over the letter in your hands and frowning. “Word has already gotten out about this party, and now the Prophet wants to run an article on it.”

Your voice climbed higher and higher as you spoke, until your boyfriend winced at the shrill tone you had taken on. “I wouldn't worry too much about that.”

“Wouldn’t worry— it’s the party, Draco! And now the media wants a piece! If it’s a failure, the entire Wizarding World is going to know about it by eight the following morning!”

“More like six, if they hurry it though printing—”

“Draco!”

He rolled his eyes, flopping ungracefully down onto the couch and stretching his body long out on it. Holding his arms open, you collapsed into them with a whine, and he kissed your forehead as he wrapped you into a tight embrace. With the letter crumpled between you both, you pressed your face into his neck, taking in a deep breath of his cologne and letting it calm you slightly. 

“You’ll still love me even if I throw the worst party ever, right?”

“Yes, I’ll still love you!” He spoke through peels of sudden laughter, and the shake of his chest underneath you brought a smile to your face. Propping yourself up to peer down at him, he puckered his lips, a request for a kiss that you eagerly indulged. “And I meant it. This isn’t personal to you, this is just Skeeter trying to push a new weak point. I don’t even think she knows you’re the host yet, she does this every year. She tries to wrangle her way into an invitation through her job, and every year, my mother sneers at her letters and burns them.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my love.” Rubbing his hands up and down your back, Draco leaned up to press another loving, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Now, can you please put those folders away for the night? We haven’t set up our Christmas tree yet, and you haven’t given me proper cuddles all day.”

“Just five more minutes?” You bargained, and his lips tightened with annoyance for a fraction of a second. 

“Only as long as it takes me to make two hot chocolates.”

“Deal.”

“Hi, baby.” You whispered, leaning against the doorframe. Draco peered up at you from over the top of his reading glasses, folding his book silently and placing it down on the bedside table. He laced his fingers together, resting his hands across his stomach, and waited. “Whatcha’ reading?” 

“A thousand and one ways to ruin your girlfriend’s Christmas party.” He deadpanned, and your smile fell, arms crossing over your chest. Straightening up and stepping into the room a little more, Draco smirked at the glare you gave him. 

“If you would just help me out a little—”

“You’ve yet to apologise for what you said earlier.” He crosses his ankles casually, lounging on the bed. 

“Yes, well, earlier was—”

“That’s not how apologies start.” Draco chastised, clicking his tongue. With a strangled sigh, and a slightly childish stomp of your foot, you caved. Ignoring the urge to ask him what he knew about good apologies, you instead made your way closer to the side of the bed. As you approached, he reached out, wrapping his arm around the backs of your legs and looking up at you, waiting. 

“I’m sorry for shouting at you and calling you a bad boyfriend when you messed with my sticky notes. It really wasn’t that deep.” Your words were begrudging, certainly holding an underlying bitterness to them that wasn’t hidden, but Draco grinned nonetheless. “I’m just really stressed out.”

“You’re putting too much thought into this, darling. You need to relax. It’s just a party.”

“It’s not just a party! Do you realise that these people will—” Will be our wedding guests one day? Will be the people who pass judgment on my suitability to be your wife someday? Will remember this social event for the rest of their lives? It all sounded too shallow to say out loud, but somehow, it still meant something to you. “Will be so disappointed if it’s not good.”

Your boyfriend’s brows furrowed, he knew there was more you weren’t saying, but he didn’t push. Instead, he wrapped his arms more securely around you, tugging you down onto the bed, and you squealed as he rolled you over, your back in the blankets and his lips closing over your own in a slow kiss. 

Your fingers laced into his hair, nails dragging over his scalp and he hummed happily, lips pressing more insistently into your own. Every tug and drag, every beat of his heart onto his chest pressed to yours, helped to settle the raging nerves that were sending tremors through your body. 

“I know you don’t think it, love, but it’s going to be fantastic. You needn’t be so worried.”

Smoothing your hands along his cheeks, you unhooked his glasses, folding them away with a sweet kiss to his nose. Putting them down on top of his forgotten book, you decided to try your luck one more time. “Does this mean you’ll help me? Because I could really use a second opinion on—”

“Nuh-uh. My mother entrusted you with this job. And I know why.” 

At your gasp, he smirked. “You do?”

“Of course, I do. This party is a tradition for generations of Malfoy women, so if you’re going to be a Malfoy woman, you’d better learn now.” At your scoff, he pressed a kiss to your lips, chuckling when you puckered and attempted to steal more. 

“If you don’t help me, then you’d better find a new future woman.”

“Shan’t. Can’t. I’ve already chosen you, and the men never party plan. We’re terrible at it. Just ask my mother about when my father suggested a Weasley-orange banner for—”

“Alright, alright!” Your arms flung around his neck, pulling him in for more kisses, and leaving the conversation behind. For a little while, you were perfectly willing to let Draco help you forget your stresses. 

“My darling, what are you doing?” Draco’s groggy voice split the silence of the room, and you blinked as you refocused on him. Pyjamas pants low on his hips and no shirt, a spattering of pale hair trailing down his lower stomach and disappearing into his waistband… Some absent part of your exhausted brain sparked with excitement at the sight of him. “It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

“What? No, it’s not. I said I’d come to bed at—”

“At midnight?” Draco yawned, covering his mouth with one hand and pointing at the clock with the other. True to his word, it was actually past two, and a sigh slipped out. 

“Oh.” 

“Mhm.” Draco shuffled across the room, standing behind you and running his fingers through your hair. “This is what we’re doing now? We’re staying up all night?”

“No, no. I’ll pack away and come to bed now.” Stacking up your papers, you turned to look up at him with a smile. “I did it.”

“You did it?”

“Yes. I have officially finished the whole of my planning stage. Now, I just have to… y’know, actually put everything together and pull it off and hope it’s a success and—” His brows raised, and you took a deep breath, remembering all the steadying words he’d muttered to you over the last few weeks. “I’ll just put all this away, and come to bed, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll wait up for you.” Draco promised, dipping to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

He padded away silently through the room, and as you scooped up a pile of papers, they slipped out of your sleep-trembling hands, spilling across the floor. “Oh, crap.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” He grumbled, returning across the room and leaning down, smacking the papers out of your hands where you attempted to clear them up. Dipping down, he hooked an arm underneath your legs, lifting you swiftly up into the air and cradling you to his chest. “They’ll still be there in the morning. Sleep, now.”

An argument sat on the tip of your tongue, but he was right, and the moment your cheek touched his shoulder and your eyes slipped closed, you knew it too. You were half asleep before he’d even reached the bedroom, dropping you both onto the mattress, still warm from his body, and cradling you to his chest. A sweet kiss and a deep rumble in your ear were the last things you recalled, before curling into his chest and falling asleep. 

Shaking out your hand, you whimpered a little at the pain taking over. “I’m going to end up with my hand locking in this shape.” 

Daphne glared at you from across the table, clearly still unhappy about the fact that two hours ago you’d managed to rope her into helping you with this job as well. Your eyes were blurring, your hand was cramping, and you were still only halfway through writing out the invitations. You’d put Daphne on folder organisation, her voice was hoarse from reading out addresses, and creating a filing system for RSVP’s and replies for your records. 

If you had to hear any more dietary requirements, special requests, or seating demands, you were going to lose your mind. Only a few more envelopes had been completed, joining the pile of ones still waiting to be sealed with wax and sent on their way, before a shooting pain shot up your arm as cramps set in. 

Dropping the quill in your hand and messing up the letter before you, you cursed at the smeared ink. Rubbing your palm and digging your thumb into the tense muscles, you conceded that now was most definitely the time to take a break. 

Swaggering into the room, Mattheo peered over at the mess that had become the shared kitchen table, his brows shooting up his forehead. “You two look busy.”

“I’m being held against my will,” Daphne muttered, tucking away the pages into the folder and beginning to pack away, despite your protests. 

“You want some help?” Mattheo offered, and your gaze snapped to him.

“Oh, Matty, that’s so sweet…” Your lips pressed together, wincing a little bit as he eyed all of the stationary and neatly-arranged piles on the table. “It’s just…”

“Your handwriting is shocking and your organisational skills are even worse.” Daphne put bluntly, and you hid a laugh at the sulky expression on his face, even if he knew it was true. “Besides, don’t you have a date tonight?”

“Well, yes.” He spun to give you both his back as his cheeks flushed pink, opening and closing random drawers in an attempt to look busy. 

You gave an excited squeal as Daphne smirked at his bashfulness. “Is it with—”

“Yes!” He huffed, the tips of his ears now turning red too.

“You really like this girl, huh? You never see the same girl twice, and this is, what, your fourth date?” Your teasing made him relent, and he at last turned around. He was picking nervously at the sweater he must’ve bought just for this occasion, as you’d never seen it before. 

“Fifth, actually. We, uhh, bumped into each other last week after class and went for some impromptu coffee, and…” He scratched the back of his neck, a sweet smile taking over. “Do I look okay?”

“You look lovely, Mattheo.” Standing up, you fixed his collar for him, brushing off the shoulders of his sweater, and he preened into your touch. “Oh, wow, Daph. You have to come and see this. Is this… what I think it is?”

“What?” Mattheo panicked, turning his head to his shoulder as you rubbed the fabric between your fingers. Turning him around, he attempted to peer over his shoulder as you turned the inside of his collar out. “What is it?”

“It doesn’t say it on the label, but…”

“You know, I think you’re right,” Daphne said, feeling the fabric stretched across his shoulders. “No, no, it definitely is.”

“What? I don’t have time to change! My jumper is what?” Mattheo gasped anxiously.

“Boyfriend material.” You said, very seriously, and it took a moment for the fear to melt out of his eyes and be replaced by annoyance. 

“Oh, fuck off.” Mattheo pushed you both away from him, scowling as your laughter filled the room, and the pair of you made your way back over to the table. “You two are the worst.”

“You love us.”

“I don’t know why.” He mumbled, glancing at the clock, even as his cheeks stretched into a smile. “I have to go soon. But how about I make you both a snack before I do? I can at least make a good sandwich.”

“That’s… everything.” You mumble, staring in awe at the two —almost three, filled folders of notes, invitations, floor plans and more. “I can’t believe that’s it.”

“It is?” Draco asked, through a mouthful of fried rice as he fixated on the screen. Since Mattheo’s introduction of a Muggle television into the flat, Draco had been hooked on a ‘sitcom’ a half-blood in one of his classes had introduced him to. He had written to Theo three times this week alone to update him on ‘Ross and Rachel’. Theo had given up replying last week.

“Yes. Everything, it’s all done.”

“Mhm.”

“Draco!” You snapped, and he paused the show, wide eyes moving to you as he stared innocently. “I’m done.”

It took him a moment to process before his face split into a wide grin. “You finished the party planning?”

“I did!” He put down his container of food as you dove across the couch to cup his cheeks, smacking giggly kisses onto his mouth as you took him down into the cushions with you. Large hands gripped your waist, a smile on his face as he chuckled by your ear.

“So, does this mean I get my girlfriend back, at last?”

“Yes, I suppose.” You rolled your eyes through a smile, flattening yourself out against him on the couch, content to melt into his body as he pressed play on the show. He picked up a new box, hand-feeding you dumplings in turns as the episode played on, and you chuckled between jokes and comedic pauses as you finally allowed yourself to unwind. 

“Don’t you think Pansy is just like Monica?” Draco asked after a while, wincing as you screeched a laugh beside his ear at the impromptu comparison. “The need to control, that inherently irritating early-morning mentality, looking shockingly good in red—”

You pinched his side, just over his ribs, and he yelped but did not continue comparing how good other women looked in red. After a second or two of deliberation, you added, “Tom is Ross.”

“What? No. Tom is Chandler! Tom is smart and ridiculously awkward and incapable of talking to women!” Draco argued, and you sat up in his lap, shaking your head. 

“No! No. Tom is Ross, the complete obsession with one specific thing and also being a massive control freak, plus, the commitment! He was adorably committed to Carol, and Rachel, bar that whole cheating moment—”

“They were on a break—” You pressed your finger over Draco’s lips to silence him. 

“Anyway, I can totally see Tom accidentally getting someone knocked up, and also, you have to save Joey and Chandler for Theo and Matty!”

Draco mulled it over, “Okay. I’ll give you that.”

He pulled you back down onto his chest, and you snuggled in. Between the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and the dulled tones of the easy-going TV show to send you off into a hazy place, with Draco’s fingers smoothing up and down your back. 

“You look perfect.” You smiled, hands clasped under your chin as you looked at Draco in his newly fitted dress robes. This was the first time he was seeing them, the look on his face unreadable as he took in the design, fit and patterns, but you thought it was just right. “Do you like it?”

Draco looked at himself in the mirror again, straightening out the sleeves and buttoning the rather modern front, tucking one hand into a pocket. At last, he turned to you and smiled. “Well, it’s nothing like what my mother normally makes me wear, but I love it. Are you finally going to tell me the theme?”

“No! You said you didn’t want to give any opinions, so now, it’s a surprise! Nobody knows, except me!” Smoothing your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, you admired the pretty picture he painted before you, even in the dim light of your bedroom so late at night. “I have a couple of handkerchief options for your pocket, and I was thinking we could pin a sprig of holly onto your—”

Your words died in your throat in a sudden rush as a thought crossed your mind, and Draco waited, brow furrowing the longer you remained silent. “What’s wrong, you don’t like it?”

“I forgot a dress.” You whispered to yourself, shock draining from your body as realisation set in. “I got so caught up with everything else that I never ordered a dress! It’s next week, Draco! How am I supposed to find something by then, between classes and—”

“You’re okay.”

“No, this is so not okay!”

“Darling, breathe.” Draco cupped your face, kissing your lips quietly, “I have something for you.”

Opening up the wardrobe dedicated to his clothes, Draco pulled out a garment bag. Embroidered on the front in sparkling gold was the name of his family tailor, and he hooked it onto the front of the door. Unzipping it slowly, beautiful waves of green silk and jewels filled your vision, a sparkling corset and a flowing skirt that spilled out of the bag the moment it was open. 

“I noticed a few days ago that you’d ordered me new robes, but not a dress for yourself. I asked my mother and Daphne, and you hadn't planned anything with either of them. So, I ordered you something.”

“Oh, Dray…” You whispered, stepping closer to admire the dress. Your fingers hovered just over the top of it, and Draco carefully lifted it out, laying it over his arm for you to better admire. “It’s perfect. How in Merlin’s name did you know?”

“Well, red, green and gold were some of the specified colours on the invitations, and I knew damn well you weren’t going to dare dress me in red, so green it was. Plus, I mentioned to my tailor that I needed a dress for you that matched whatever secret outfit you had planned for me.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal, and your cheeks flushed as you looked between him and the dress. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Good, because I already picked up some jewellery for you too.” You quirked a brow, smirking at him as he rolled his eyes. “Can’t have you pulling the same nonsense you did last year, so I fetched a couple of items from the vault.”

“Can I see?”

“No. It’s a surprise. Unless, of course, there’s anything you want to tell me?” He bargained, and your jaw dropped at his audacity, shaking your head. 

“I love you?”

“Hm. No. But I love you too.” Kissing the tip of your nose, he held the dress up for you. “Try this on, I want to see you in it, and see us both side by side.” 

Taking it from his hands, the soft material slipped through your fingers and floated like clouds as you held it up. “Draco, I…”

Words died in your throat, unable to properly convey just how much this meant to you. Despite his refusal to get involved with the ridiculously stressful planning of the party, Draco had made sure to dote on you and take care of you all the way through. He seemed to see right through you, his expression softening as he leaned down to press his forehead to yours. “Hey. You take care of everyone else, and I’ll take care of you.”

Straightening out Draco’s collar for the eighth time, you huffed anxiously when he batted away your hands. “Darling, my robes are fine. Tug on them anymore and you’re going to crease them.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so nervous.”

“Don’t be. You planned a perfect party, and you worked so hard. Let yourself enjoy it now.” Draco took both of your hands in his as he chuckled, kissing your knuckles as you conceded to his point. He was right, this ridiculous batch of nerves was far more out of a need to impress his mother than it was to impress anyone else on that invitation list, but you couldn't shake the buzz of trepidation in your veins. “Let me distract you.”

“Distract me?”

“Yes. Let me distract you.” Draco grinned, tipping your chin up with a finger underneath your jaw, and dipping his head down. His lips encased your own, a soft sound of pleasure bubbling from inside you as the taste of mint and lingering wine from his drinks with Theo spread to your tongue. Two large hands wrapped around your waist, settling on your lower back. He tugged you closer to him again, until you were crushed to his chest, no doubt wrinkling his robes, as your arms looped around his neck. 

With every crush of his mouth against your own, your worries slipped further from you, letting the proximity and adoration of your boyfriend settle the unease brewing within you. Something cold brushed against your collarbones, the dipped neckline of the dress Draco had chosen for you showed goosebumps in its wake, and you pulled back with a gasp at a tug on your earlobe. 

You raised your hand, a simple but elegant charmed bracelet was wrapping itself around your wrist, as your fingers brushed your sternum to feel the pendant of a necklace perfectly setting itself on your chest. In your ears, a string of diamonds now swung lightly from each one, completing your look at last. 

“Perfect. Now you’re properly adorned, as Malfoy woman should be.”

“Don’t tell me this necklace is your family crest like a brand.” You teased, pinching it between your thumb and forefinger, but only the precise cuts of a perfectly-carved gem were felt beneath your finger pads, not a name or brand to be found. 

“Well, I was tempted, but no. I went a little subtler, instead, I chose a very recognisable piece from the Malfoy public collections.”

His smirk made a flush rush to your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to address it before one of the Manor’s house elves popped into the empty space before you, curling a finger around its ear as it bobbed excitedly where it stood. “Misses first guests be arriving, the floo has been opened and the guest’s carriages be coming through the gates. Does miss or sirs be needing anything else, or should Fip be starting pouring the drinks?”

“Pouring drinks would be excellent, thank you, Fip.” Draco murmured, sending the elf away with one final pat on your back as he stepped away, Draco smoothed a hand down the front of his robes. With the mere wave of a hand, the large wooden doors separating you both from the grand hall began to creak open, and Draco offered you an arm. “Shall we greet our guests, my love? I’m rather excited to see your party theme at last.”

You slid your arm through his, taking one more bracing deep breath, before at last turning to see the culmination of all your hard work. 

As the doors parted further, you were left breathless at the sight of the room before you. It had been transformed, from something you’d seen so many times before in so many luxurious visions, to the dream of your own making. The enchanted ceiling was that of swirling clouds and a dark, starry sky. Snow that could pass for real floated around the outside of the room in glittering flakes that disappeared into thin air before touching the floor, creating a wintery setting that was countered by the cosy and warm feel of the crackling fireplaces around the room. 

Floating around the dance floor were sparkling, swirling lights that would bob and weave between the guests, keeping the lighting low and romantic as candles flickered on the tables and gave the room a wonderfully golden glow. Tablecloths brushing the floors, centrepieces made of golden flowers, wreaths and holly berries. Snow-touched Christmas trees, twinkling lights and ornaments, red ribbons, green silk, accents of gold and silver, and it all came together so perfectly. Draco walked you slowly towards the centre of the room as he took it all in, his jaw dropped as he peered around the room. 

“Well, we’ve certainly never had anything like this before.” He whispered. “It feels so… cosy.”

“Do you think they’ll—”

‘Who cares what they think? Do you like it?” Draco pressed, cutting you off as the two of you stood squarely in the centre of the room, the spelled instruments in the corner starting to play classical versions of your favourite Christmas songs, and his lips flicked up at the corners. “Are you happy with it, my darling?”

“I love it.” You finally relented, pressing your lips together to quash nerves and choosing instead to revel in your masterpiece. “I wanted to tap into that old-fashioned, classical, comforting Christmas. I wanted to make my mark, I wanted something beautiful but simple, I wanted it to feel like an intimate gathering, not a social event.”

The doors at the other end of the hall opened slowly, voices from the other side filtering through, and your attention turned to that of your friends and their families. Theo whistled under his breath as he looked around, stopping abruptly at his father’s command, and he rolled his eyes when the older man wasn’t looking. Across the room, he caught your gaze, and gave an approving nod and a smirk. Pansy’s lips were curled into a smile as Daphne’s jaw dropped, admiring the enchanted sky-scene with her sister. 

You moved to greet them, accepting their approval and using the warmth their comfort offered to soothe the jagged feelings inside of you and put them to rest. 

The more the crowds piled in, the better you felt, slipping into polite chatter and breezy small talk as you greeted each guest to pass through. The drinks were flowing, the music was playing, and most of all, people were smiling. You’d only heard compliments, no whispered talk under anyone's breath of backhanded compliments, only genuine kindness. 

By the time Narcissa and Lucius came gliding into the hall, you’d almost been reassured enough to let your guard down. However, as the regal older lady greeted all her old friends and favoured guests on her way to you, the nerves all seemed to reappear. 

By the time she reached you, her hands had extended out and clutched your own as she smiled. “My, my, dear. What a party you threw, and to think you’ve been so worried. You had no need to be.”

Your jaw dropped, and you shook your head. “I-I wouldn't say worried, just a little concerned, that’s all—”

“Please, let us not hide things from one another. Draco has been writing to me, he told me you were panicking like a, what was that odd Muggle term you used, like a headless chicken?” Her nose wrinkled as you blushed, and Lucius rolled his eyes. Your glare turned to Draco, who only shrugged and sipped his drink, feigning innocence. “This is a marvellous party, I hope you’re proud of it.”

“I am. It was exhausting, though. I don’t know how you do it.” You sighed, and she smirked as she squeezed your hands before letting go. 

“Did it.”

“Hm?” You questioned, and her shoulders rose and fell delicately. 

“Oh, you did such a fantastic job here. You’re all anyone is talking about, and truly, I am so tired of planning these events. I think it’s due time you take over them now. The next one is February, I’ll be sure to send you all of the details.” Your jaw dropped open at her words and Draco choked a little on his champagne. His father scowled, poking him in the ribs with his cane and telling him to stop slouching and spluttering, as you tried to find words. 

“Oh, I’m not sure that—”

“Lucius, dear, I think I see Tauria Parkinson. Come, I must ask her about her gardens.” 

“Yes, dear.” He mumbled quietly, and she had whisked her husband away before you’d even finished your sentence and turned to Draco. With your jaw still dropped in horror and shock, he covered his snicker behind his hand. 

“I can’t believe this.”

“What? She’s right. You planned a great party, and you were going to have to take over all of this one day anyway—”

“Draco!”

“Yes, dear?” He drawled, and you smacked lightly at his chest with the back of your hand.

“You’re a menace. I hope you know that you will be helping with party planning. If we’re to proceed down this road, we’ll be a modern couple. None of your old-fashioned ways.” You scoffed, taking his drink from his hand and swirling the bubbly inside, before drinking the rest in a single gulp.

“None of them?” He pressed, an arm snaking around your waist as his lips brushed your neck. His lips moved to your neck, whispering some sweet, some slightly inappropriate things into your ear about honeymoon traditions, drawing a laugh from you. 

“Alright, maybe a few.” You caved, tipping your head up to him just in time to catch the growing sprig of mistletoe over your head. Snaking one hand around to cup the back of his neck, you pulled his lips down to yours, brushing your mouths together lovingly. “Happy Christmas, Draco.”

“Happy Christmas, my love.”

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ngl I really enjoyed Via’s arc in Sinsmas. She is just SO MUCH like her father that it both delights and hurts me lol.

Their relationship is an interesting take on struggling to try to break the cycle of abuse/neglect.

Stolas grew up with his father not even knowing his name or showing him a shred of affection. He was a means to an end, a tool. The only way he’s ever received any kind of acknowledgement from his father is by doing his duty. Mastering his powers, entering into an arranged marriage, and producing an heir.

You can just so clearly see how he is trying SO HARD to give Via a different life. He wants them to be a family. For her to never doubt her parents love her. To be the father he never had.

To the point he shoves his own wants and needs so far down that he is barely holding on.

Via going from accusing him of not loving her to realizing that he loves her so much that he forced himself to play the role of a good father and husband. To the point he destroyed himself for her…

And that realization just devastates her.

Stolas getting involved with Blitz was the culmination of decades of forcing himself to be the person everyone else expected him to be. He feels he can’t be loved, but he can be useful. And maybe if he’s useful enough, people will care about him.

The reason his connection with Blitz is so strong is because both of them feel that way. The difference is that Blitz was able to create his own found family (tho it took him ages to realize it lol) while Stolas has always been alone. They’re two sides of the same coin. And while Blitz has spent the past few years healing, Stolas has been descending further into darkness because he doesn’t have that same support.

Via has absorbed so many of his insecurities. Especially the fear of not being loved or wanted despite Stolas trying SO HARD to be the perfect father to her. But he’s not. He can never be because he forgot the old adage of “put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.”

I think that definitely can come across as him being neglectful of her. But to me it speaks to his desperation to be such a good father to her that he tries to hold himself to IMPOSSIBLE standards.

He doesn’t fail Via because he doesn’t care. He fails her because he keeps setting up these unrealistic expectations for their relationship. He massively overextends himself and puts his own wants and desires on the back burner so often that his life is imploding around him out of his control.

He doesn’t miss the stars with her because he doesn’t care. He misses them because he’s struggling to put his life back together after finally taking some initiative for himself. He’s trying to deal with the fallout of wanting a divorce from Stella, but he’s waited so long and he’s so overwhelmed by it all that the date slips his mind. And the instant he realizes what’s happened, he drops everything and goes looking for her.

Via keeps watching him make these promises he struggles with or fails to keep and doesn’t realize until she finds all of the happy pills how much he’s overextended himself for her sake. And because she’s her father’s daughter, she immediately thinks she’s at fault. She thinks he would be happier if he hadn’t forced himself to play house all these years for her sake.

She’s not wrong. If he’d separated from Stella years before, they’d probably all be better off. But he didn’t because of his sense of duty. Stolas’s problem is that he never advocates for himself until he reaches his literal breaking point. By then, the damage is more of a tsunami than a ripple because now his meticulously crafted house of cards is falling down around him faster than he can pick up the pieces.

Via is right that he would have been happier, but not for the reasons she thinks. He did it because he loved her, not out of obligation for her. And also because he is deeply broken and flawed.

Via’s dealing with a lot of complicated emotions too. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself for his affair partner, which she initially believes means he’s picking Blitz over her. But really it’s just Stolas trying to save the only other person in his life who understands him and who maybe cares about him.

How could he live with himself if he let Blitz die?

And it’s not like Stolas has time to sit down and think of a rational plan. He rushes to the trial because Blitz is literally about to be decapitated. And then he saves him the only way he knows how. I think part of him was also convinced that, as much as he loves Via, she might actually be better off without him because he is a wreck. He’s convinced he’s ruined his life and the lives of everyone around him.

I think this is why he doesn’t fight Stella much for custody of Via. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he genuinely thinks Stella is a more stable parent than he is and that Via will be better off with her as a result. The man also lacks a backbone too tho because his self worth is -9000.

But then Stolas doesn’t get executed. And the consequences of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks once the adrenaline and panic wears off. He saved Blitz, but at what cost? And, based on his statement in Sinsmas, it sounds like he would’ve done it all over again if given the chance. Because he’s the one who let Blitz use his grimoire even though he knew it was wrong. Because Blitz was in danger of dying because of him. And because he has a very strong sense of morality and justice too.

Dying in Blitzo’s place was a spur of the moment decision and once the dust cleared, Stolas realized how everything he’s tried to do to keep his shit together has fallen apart at the seams and now everyone knows it.

All Via can see when she looks at him now is that he’s hit rock bottom because of her. Again, not true. But Stolas has tried so hard to give her this idyllic family life, thinking that was the best thing he could do for her. Not realizing that she could see the cracks forming. She just didn’t understand why there were cracks until now.

I don’t think Via actually hates him. I think she hates herself. Convinced she’s the reason he’s hit rock bottom. Why couldn’t she see how much he was suffering? Why would he suffer so much for her? So she’s taking herself out of the equation, just like he tried to with Blitz. If she’s not in his life anymore, maybe he’ll stop killing himself to try to make her happy. Maybe he’ll stop being so miserable.

I think a big part of their arc together has been her going from thinking of Stolas as this perfect and larger than life figure to seeing him start to crumble and now getting a peek behind the curtain and realizing how much of that wasn’t real. And it scares and upsets her that her dad isn’t the perfect person he’s tried to be for her. He’s broken and hurting and she doesn’t know what to do to help because he’s spent her whole life focusing on her.

Not to say that he’s done that well. He genuinely hasn’t. He’s overcorrected so hard that he’s fucked her up in a completely different way because he’s overextended himself. He pushed himself until the illusion of a perfect happy family cracked along with him. He’s also made it difficult for her to know how to help him because he’s sheltered her so much.

I think this sometimes makes Stolas come across as selfish. He seemingly “ruined” his marriage and his relationship with his daughter for Blitz. But really it was just the pendulum swinging wildly in the opposite direction. He was so starved for happiness and connection that now he’s trying to live two separate lives and it’s just not possible and he’s falling apart even faster.

Stolas was so desperate for affection and to be of use that he lets Blitz have his grimoire, under the impression Blitz is attracted to him because Blitz literally tried to seduce him to get it. He also does all of the dirty talk because he thinks Blitz likes it.

I think he initially sets the terms for the grimoire usage because he thinks it’s a price Blitz is more than willing to pay because he showed up trying to seduce him. I think he l also just really wants an excuse to see/spend time with Blitz too. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Blitz might want anything other than sex from him. He’s once again playing a role based on what he thinks is expected of him.

It’s not until Stolas discovers he’s starting to develop feelings for Blitz that he realizes their arrangement is wrong. And the moment he realizes it, he immediately tries to make amends. He hopes Blitz will admit he has feelings for him too, but is willing to step away if not. But he also cares about him so much, he makes sure to give him the Asmodean Crystal so he can freely make the choice.

Meanwhile he has no idea Blitz will just view this as another person trying to abandon him or look down on him. Because Blitz struggles with self worth too and believes the only way people will care about him is if he can be useful. Blitz has a deep seated fear of abandonment while Stolas fears no one could ever love him just for himself. He offers Blitz the crystal to let him know his feelings are genuine and to gauge Blitz’s too.

All of this is to say that I think Via and Stolas will reconcile, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think Via needs some time to process who her father actually is vs who she thought he was. And both of them need to be able to forgive themselves/grant themselves some grace so they can finally meet each other in the middle like Stolas has finally managed with Blitz. Stolas needs to accept Via is grown up now and he can’t shield her from the negatives of the world forever. Meanwhile Via needs to understand everything doesn’t have to be so black and white.

[timmydraker]

Tim who has never been good at understanding the words of Shakespeare and Dickens.

He can understand metaphors and knows about philosophy, but he’s always struggle to truely grasp the tragedy and helplessness so may of them hold. The idea of someone being doomed from the start, by the author and the narrative or maybe just the world they were set in, just doesn’t really make sense to him.

Part of him knows it’s because he was born with a vintage silver spoon placed delicately in his hands, but there’s more to it than that.

See, most of the bad things that have happened to Tim have either been consequences of his own action or the fact that his friends and colleagues all have the same dangerous job.

To him it just makes sense that bad things will happen and so he can just… prepare for it. He can do what he can to fix it or move onto something else and push away his own feelings because what else is he supposed to do?

So, no, things like Hamlet and Dorian don’t really click for him

At least… until he thinks about Jason.

Born in poverty with a world surrounding him that would not bother to care or offer help to him purely because of how he looks of his parents.

A mother who loves him endlessly, only to fall into the drugs she tried to protect him from.

Finding out that mother didn’t even give birth to him, but the father that never showed anything other than distain and cruelty was still his own.

Being given Robin, hated by the first one for a time, only to die in the suit by the hands of a mad man all because his real mother sold him out.

Waking up in a coffin, digging himself out and roaming around catatonic and the only thoughts he can actually process is that he must be a ghost.

Being taken by a league of killers, lied to and trick and tormented into thing a perfect weapon.

Realise his mentor, who he once thought the father he deserved to have, has failed him and let his killer free because of something as fickle as a moral compass.

Seeing that mentor seemingly replace him with a perfect rich kid who doesn’t swear or complain or sneak off without permission from what he can tell.

Having no real friends in that time.

Having no one to trust because everyone had an ulterior motive. Everyone uses him.

And through out it all, even with all the hate and the bitterness and injustice he had been faced with, his first course of action is to make the home he first had and the only one he will ever have… safer.

To protect the kids like him from becoming statistics and killers, from the pain he felt and the false promises of the Batman.

Jason keeps honesty and integrity, even when no one else offers it to him in return.

Tim can’t understand Macbeth or Antigone or Othello, can’t see why someone would write something so morbid just to try and entertain.

But he can understand, or at least try to understand, Jason Todd.

Because that is someone who had actually been hurt for no reason. Someone who had been tormented by the universe, by fates and coincidence, with no real lesson being taught other than the world hates him.

Sure Jason has Roy and Biz and Artemis and Kori, but what about a brother?

Dick tried, he still does, but he fails Jason over and over by trying to make him ‘better’.

Damian doesn’t really care too much, not out of malice but there’s just not much of a connection between them.

Cass tries, but Jason is always awkward around her and that’s not his fault, you can’t hide a thing from her.

Duke liked Jason a lot, but again, the newest Bat is trying hard to find his place in the world of vigilantes and can’t quite find it in himself to be too close to Jason’s violence.

But Tim…

He’s morals have always been held together by the simple fact of ‘it’s not really that approved of’ and not much else. He won’t kill, but unlike the others he is happy to leave a Rouge in a sinking ship and not feel a hint of guilt.

He adores Jason’s Robin, he knows to some extent how much he lost with that, and now he knows that Jason might not need much more than a few good things.

Small things, nothing that will trick him into thinking the world is apologising because it won’t, but enough to show him that Tim thinks he’s still worth something.

Tim won’t try convince him to become a better person or to stop killing, he might ask him to be a bit more rational and probably won’t be able to stop himself from giving tips on how to run his business, but he wouldn’t ask for his violent brother to change.

Because unlike everyone else, Tim knows that violence exist for good reason.

If it keeps his Jason alive, Tim will gladly hold onto his blood soaked hand.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Lick Back 2 (Part 1) by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Domestic Drama, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Violence, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond didn't expect to become a father over night. A surprising photo in the mail reveals that an illicit affair he had with a married woman eleven months ago resulted in a baby girl named after him. Ecstatic to be a new dad, he races to South Carolina to reunite with Nova, and bring their new family to Louisiana for Christmas. Unfortunately, Nova's estranged husband Jordan has different plans.

Word count: 18.6K

Read Lick Back (The Beginning) HERE.

"Like sweet morning dew

I took one look at you

And it was plain to see

You were my destiny

With you I'll spend my time

I'll dedicate my life

I'll sacrifice for you

Dedicate my life for you"

Method Man & Mary J. Blige—"All I Need"

Terry Richmond couldn't stop looking at the eight by eleven color photo he recieved in the mail.

Terrina Richmond.

He had a daughter. A two-month-old baby girl.

His mind raced with so many chaotic thoughts. He'd had an affair with a married woman and she left him to salvage her wreck of a marriage in South Carolina. Terry spent months trying to forget her, poured himself into his work, and blotted out the memory of Nova Patterson.

The last time they made love, he nearly broke the bed, pulling out his best erotic moves to keep her. By his calculations, that was when he impregnated her. They loved each other, but ultimately, he had to let her go. She belonged to someone else and already had an infant son. Who was he to prevent a reconciliation of a family?

He worked day and night, taking on extra hours, even requested deployment overseas to get away from Nova haunting him with her beauty, kindness, and intelligence. He wished the world for her, but couldn't bear to be in the states knowing he couldn't have her.

The big bosses denied his request. They wanted his skills building up their elite soldiers in Oceanside. Make more war machines. Oorah.

Terry booked a flight to Charleston the moment he hung up the phone with Nova. An hour later he still sat on his couch wondering who to confess his shocking news to. His first inclination was to reach out to his family, but he wasn't ready to explain the circumstances of fathering a child with a married woman to his parents just yet. His closest friends Von and Bethany were next in line, but he could already hear Bethany chewing him out for being no different than Jordan, with Von nodding his head in agreement. Telling his homegirl Angie would only result in a flying fist socking him in the jaw.

He had accrued ninety days of leave time that he planned on using up for Nova and Terrina. His godson Junior, too. He stroked his chin. Junior would become his stepson now. A bonus child. Nova gave him purpose. He had a family to care for.

Terry cancelled his flight.

Nova would have a ton of things to bring back with the children. He would drive there instead of flying and rent a U-Haul cargo trailer in Charleston. Nova could take what she wanted and he would buy anything else she needed once they returned to Oceanside. He glanced around his condo. They could stay in his place until the lease ended the following summer and then look for a new home big enough for the four of them.

Four.

How strange. He woke up that morning a single man living a solitary life. Now he was responsible for three other people. He wanted to marry Nova as soon as possible, that way he could get them on his health insurance. Terry grinned. He moved like a man with a plan.

Packing more clothes for an extended trip, the reality sank in further. He was a father. He stopped to look at his daughter again. She had his ears. Funny how he hadn't noticed it before. Terrina's eyes struck him first, but then all the other little details jumped out. She was his mama's color. Terry got his eyes from his maternal grandmamma and his ears from his paternal grandpa. Terrina repped both sides of his family like him. He sat down on his bed and rocked his body, staring at her picture like it was going to disappear if he stopped looking at her.

That was his baby girl.

Nova carried her while enduring the stress of an unraveling marriage. His woman needed peace and a home fit for a queen. He was determined to give it to her. Texting his parents, he sent them a quick message that he had to postpone coming to Louisiana because of work.

He stopped by his local coffee shop and loaded up on an egg white breakfast sandwich and coffee. Hitting the road by noon, he headed east after texting Nova that he was driving and would arrive in Charleston within two days. She sent him another picture of Terrina and Junior. He smiled so hard in his truck after taking a restroom break. Junior was nearly two years old, and it shocked Terry that he didn't look like Jordan anymore. The boy had Nova's face dipped in milk chocolate. He noticed that she'd typed the names Terrina and Novan. He typed the name Novan with a question mark. A minute later, she sent a message that she legally changed her son's name to hers. His nickname was Van-Van. Yeah, she was really done with Jordan if she yanked his son's name away from him. That shit was tough.

"My baby girl will never have that problem," he muttered, heading onto the freeway again.

Terry drove non-stop, only taking breaks when the truck needed gas. He loaded up with a bunch of Big Macs from McDonald's in Dallas, and his heart started beating wildly. Sitting in the parking lot, he inhaled deeply several times and listened to one of his meditation apps. On the verge of a panic attack unless he spoke to someone about his sudden anxiety at meeting his daughter, he called Bethany and confessed everything.

"I'm sitting here freaking out, Bethany. I just want to get to South Carolina and see Nova…hold my baby, but right now I'm losing it. Cuss me out, yell at me, I don't care…I just needed to talk to someone I trusted who knows me…knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone on purpose. Not even Jordan."

Bethany gave a long sigh. He waited for a shrill tone to rip his ear apart.

"Terry, I have to be honest with you. Nova called and told me everything a month ago."

"She what? A month ago?"

"Don't be upset. She was scared and didn't have anyone supporting her. Her family flipped out…Jordan's family flipped. Jordan is on a downward spiral. It's a shitshow out there…but I promised her I wouldn't say anything until she was ready to face you. Go easy on her, okay?"

"I'm glad she has you," he finally said after a long pause.

"You should be glad to have me, too. I should kick your butt, though."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything about her…and me."

"Didn't have to. I already knew something was up. I just hoped you two would've ended it quietly without all this blowback. You make a pretty baby, though. She looks just like you and your mom."

"I'm nervous Bethany…a little scared. I'm thrilled to have Terrina…it's just…I'm halfway across the country ready to uproot Nova from her hometown. Am I doing the right thing for her and the baby? I mean…she has Junior…Van-Van. Can I take him away from his father like this?"

"She reached out and wants you to come for her. That's all you need to concern yourself with. I'll let her tell you herself what's been going on, but that is your family now. Jordan should be an afterthought in your mind."

"I want to marry her."

"Get her out of Charleston first. Text me when you get there."

"Does Von know?"

"No. This is something he needs to hear from you when you get back."

"Thank you for being there…for the both of us."

"You have a darling little two-month-old who needs her daddy. Drive safe, Terry. Love you."

Terry sat in the truck, feeling better. Bethany didn't hate him. He texted Nova despite the late hour in her time-zone.

He started the truck and drove closer to his love.

Terry sat in a parking lot of a Target store in a town just outside of Charleston on Sunday morning. He wanted to buy gifts for Nova and the baby, but the store didn't open until seven. The weather was already hot, and he rolled the windows down to wait three hours. He contemplated waiting at a Jack in the Box parking lot, but there were two cop cars there and the last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of the police outside of a fast-food joint at four in the morning.

He spent time on his smartphone looking up all the things he had to do legally to establish paternity. DNA test. Filing the results with the court. It would probably be a hassle to take Jordan's name off the birth certificate, but Terry would spend whatever money it took to pay all court fees to do so. He'd need to get a lawyer in Charleston to navigate everything.

The store opened, and he grabbed a cart, rolling it to the children's section. There was no sales associate around to ask about sizes, so he looked at infant clothing that claimed to fit newborns up to two months. He bought a fancy box of chocolate for Nova's grandmother who she stayed with after leaving her brother's home. Flowers for Nova. Baby balloons. A clunky-looking Captain America action figure for Van-Van. It took him a minute to find the Black one. Sam Wilson. It was going to be all Black everything in their household. Terry paused in the toy section. He imagined his life being like Von and Bethany's, raising two children and being happy. Von always went home to a happy wife and happy children. Sending up a prayer to God, he wanted to provide the same life for Nova and his new family.

He paid for everything at check-out and rolled his cart out to the truck. Bethany was right about Target. You can't ever go inside and come out with the one thing you went in for. He spent over two hundred dollars on all kinds of toys for his daughter and bonus son.

Terry smelled like long hours on the road and stopped at a café to purchase a blueberry muffin that gave him access to the restroom. He washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed into fresh clothes he carried in a backpack. By the time he hit the road again, he was ready to face his future. Following the directions on his GPS, he admired the old buildings and the slow pace of Charleston's southern charm. That went out the window when a palmetto bug flew into the truck. A goddamn flying roach. Hell nah!

He rolled up his windows and put on the air conditioner. The directions showed that he still had an hour to reach Edisto Island. He leaned into the steering wheel once he started crossing the McKinley-Washington Bridge that led to Nova. The Dawhoo River below him looked like mysterious black water. The tannins seeping out of decaying trees turned the water a dark tea-color. Nova once explained that the word "Edisto" meant "black" and was also the name of the indigenous people who lived there, including her Gullah kin, from way back.

His heart palpitated, and he started breathing faster when he reached the street where Mrs. Mariam Walker, the matriarch of Nova's family lived. He smelled the heavy scent of the sea and the river. The house was only a few blocks away from Edisto Beach. Everything around him had been built by Gullah hands. Homes. The bridge. Docks. Churches. Everything.

He passed Mrs. Walker's house because there was no parking available on both sides of the street. Making a U-Turn, he found a spot where a driver left in a brown van. He glanced over at the large white house with the double stairs leading to another stairway that led up to a semi-wrap-around porch. Several older Black men and a couple of men Terry's age stood on the porch looking his way. They built the old house high to avoid flooding, and it seemed like it should've been on a heritage museum tour. He typed into his phone.

I'M HERE.

He put on a stoic expression to face Nova's male relatives. They probably weren't thrilled to see him approaching the house.

The front door flew open and Nova dashed out. She ran down the top stairs first and waited on the landing, her eyes searching the street. When she fixed her gaze on him, she covered her mouth and jumped up twice before running down the left set of stairs, hurtling forward like a comet to greet him. He moved so fast people could've sworn he had wings on his feet like Mercury.

"Terry!" she cried out.

A bunch of women exited the house to watch them.

The moment Nova reached him, he lifted her up high. She hugged his neck so tight that she almost cut off his circulation. He set her down, and they held each other. Embracing her was like having a missing puzzle piece slipped back into its proper place. It was hard to look at her without the tears in his eyes making it difficult to see. She trembled in his arms and every hitched breath she took tore at his heart. He had been a fool to let her go. Sparing another man's feelings in a wasted act of nobility cost him time with the woman he loved and a daughter he hadn't met yet. Lying to Jordan about not sleeping with Nova had been the wrong choice to make eleven months ago. He should've come clean and faced the music back then. It cost him his own happiness. Cost him sharing the journey of Terrina's birth.

He touched and smelled Nova's fragrant hair. She still carried the scent of sugar cookies and strawberries on her skin. Her cornflower blue wrap dress sat snug around her figure. Having babies just made her look enchanting to him.

"Told you…told you I would come the moment you needed me," he said.

She nodded, and they pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

She burst into tears. He rocked her in his arms, saying her name over and over.

"Are the babies inside?" he asked.

"Van-Van is with Jordan for the weekend. Terrina is inside with my mother and grandmother."

Nova wiped her wet face and puffy eyes.

"Ready to meet your daughter?"

He laughed out loud, and then bit down on his tongue gently to keep himself from leaking more water out of his eyes. He wiped his face and glanced at the welcoming committee on the porch.

"Mawmaw cooked a big Sunday breakfast and invited the family over to see you," she said.

"See me, or beat my ass?" he joked.

Nova's eyes welled up. He stroked her arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Bethany told me you're having it rough here. I gotta take that weight off of you. I'm the one who got you pregnant…I'm the one who'll fix all of this, too."

He kissed her forehead. She kept her cute pixie cut and fixed her baby hairs to look like curling ocean waves. He rubbed her back. She rested her head on his chest, unable to look at him.

"Terry…I didn't know she was yours. Jordan and I got back together, and I tried to put you away in my heart. He started messing up out here…I left him…but I still thought she was his. I wasn't hiding her from you…I wasn't trying to keep her a secret from Jordan, either. I didn't realize until after she was born that she wasn't his. I was so frightened of what would happen to me and her when everyone found out what I did. People in my family called me a whore…and Jordan…"

She wept. He soothed her as best as he could.

"Just think about us…okay? Hold on to us and I promise, Nova…things are going to get better."

"Okay."

She wiped her nose and inhaled deeply to calm herself down. He clasped her hand in his, and she walked him up the steps. Her family members held paper plates of food and hushed their talking as Terry looked at them.

"Everyone, this is Terry…Terry Richmond. Terrina's father."

"We can see dat. Can't miss his chirren at all."

The other relatives tittered under their breath. An older woman in her eighties pushed a walker and Nova's family parted to give her room so her eyes could inspect Terry up and down. She had slightly wrinkled, dark pecan-brown skin and gray hair clipped short. Mariam Walker…Mawmaw.

"I see una have no shame coming here after putting a baby in her the wrong way."

"Mawmaw," Nova whispered.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to upset you. I want to meet my daughter and be with Nova."

"Be with Nova?"

Mawmaw sucked her teeth and pointed at Nova with an accusatory finger.

"Look ya. Dat is a married 'ooman. You a comeya, messing up the peace of dis family."

"Ma'am, I don't mean any disrespect—"

"Tie yuh mout!" Mawmaw shrieked.

A female relative stepped forward.

"Okay now, Mawmaw…my Lord, let the man get inside the house first before y'all put all they business in the street. Hi Terry, I'm Cornelia…Nova's aunt. People call me Nella. Come inside. Mawmaw is going to fuss no matter what you say."

Nella walked toward the screen and opened it for Terry. She was forty-ish, heavyset, and a shade darker than Nova, but had the same sparkling brown eyes.

"I have some things in the truck to bring in," Terry said.

"Go get 'em, then," Nella said with a warm smile.

Terry walked back down to the truck with Nova. He collected the flowers and gave them to her. Her face brightened up with the full, colorful bouquet in her hands. He grabbed the balloons, Terrina's bag of baby clothes, and chocolate, then headed back to the house with Nova by his side.

"This is for you, ma'am…Mawmaw," he said.

Mawmaw looked at the big box of expensive Godiva chocolate shells, and her eyes widened; surprised that he was giving her something.

"He tryna butter her up," one of the older men snickered.

Nella waved for him to keep moving.

"Tote all that in here, Terry, c'mon now. Can't let these no-see-ums in the house."

Terry glanced at Nova.

"Mosquitos. The ones here will eat you up and you won't even see them," Nova said.

He grinned hard enough to show his gums.

"They've been eating me up since I got here."

Nova led him inside the quaint living room filled with old, cared-for furniture and several sizes of intricately woven tan baskets with dark brown geometric patterns woven in the detail that decorated the corners. The interior smelled of good southern cooking and something else, something that the west coast didn't quite have yet: the odor of history. His hometown in Louisiana had it. All the south and the east coast had it in abundance. Compared to the south, the west was still young and feeling its oats.

Old family pictures cluttered a mantle, and so many people were crammed inside that it made Terry feel like the Jolly Green Giant. He definitely was the tallest person there. His eyes were drawn to a large painting above the mantle of elongated ebony figures showcasing men, women, and children dressed in clothing from the 1930s with blue-black skin and featureless faces. The painting seemed to be the focal point of the room that gave it a cozy feel rooted in a proud lineage.

Three women Mawmaw's age sat on a couch wearing their good Sunday wigs. They scrutinized everything on him. Somewhere out back, the excited voices of children playing added a comforting noise.

Nova took the bag of clothes from him and set them on an empty chair.

"Hello…I'm Terry, pleased to see everyone," he said.

Mawmaw shuffled in with her walker and Nella helped her sit down on an old rocking chair.

"Dis him," Mawmaw said to the ladies on the couch.

Nova introduced him to everyone present. He became eager to make a good impression despite the hard stares and thin-lipped expressions from the elders. All he needed was a knife to cut the simmering animosity in the front room. A giant bible sat propped open on a bookstand next to Mawmaw's rocker. A huge brown lacquered cross hung next to a picture of a tawny Jesus on the wall behind her seat. Terry took in the context clues and understood quickly that he was in a serious religious household. That meant their situation would never be acceptable to MawMaw. The matriarch's frigid brown eyes stared him down like she was going to turn him into a pillar of salt.

A baby's cry interrupted the family showdown.

Mawmaw's eyes immediately softened, and she tried to stand up too fast, almost losing her balance.

"My great-grandbaby is calling for me," Mawmaw said, or at least that's what Terry made out.

The shrill cry shattered the peace again, and Terry felt a lump grow in his throat. He imprinted that sound to memory. That was his daughter. His first time hearing her.

Nella gently pushed Mawmaw back in her seat.

"Bring ha," Mawmaw said.

"Mawmaw…Terry needs to see his baby. He come three thousand miles. Man is probably tired and hungry rushing here. Let him have his time alone with Terrina," Nella said.

Nova placed her flowers on an end table near one of the older adult men sitting in the room and grabbed Terry's hand.

"Come…she's back here," Nova said.

Her eyes were shiny with pride and love.

They moved past family members who ogled his height and muscular build. His body looked big and battle ready from all of his military training. Moving through a short hallway, they skipped past two other bedrooms and made their way to the last one.

Pauletta, Nova's mother, sat on a worn pistachio green armchair.

"Nova, she's not wet or anything. She might be ready to eat again—"

She fell silent, spotting Terry standing behind Nova. He sensed a wariness in her eyes, but she only pressed her lips together. Terry looked down at Pauletta's lap. Air rushed out of his chest instantly.

Terrina.

So tiny. So chubby. So adorable. So his twin.

He let out a shaky breath. Pauletta noticed the tears in his eyes. Her demeanor changed immediately. Nova lifted their daughter up and brought her closer to him. Terrina's cheeks held a few dewdrop tears that looked like tiny crystal jewels to him.

"Hey Terrina…meet your daddy," Nova said.

"Sit down," Pauletta said, leaving the armchair available to him. She left him alone with Nova and the baby.

Terry sat down with a heavy body, and Nova placed his daughter in his arms. Terrina squirmed and made little mewling sounds. Her eyes tried to focus on the enormous face staring down at her. She scrunched her cheeks and eyes up then let out a few "Neh…neh…neh" cries, threatening to bawl loud and long. With tiny clenched fists waving about, her cheeks soon turned a ruddy brown complexion, filled with distressed baby emotion.

"Heh…heh…heh…neh," she said.

She lined her green eyes with his, and Terry said her name for the first time to her face.

"Hello Terrina, daddy's here. I made it. Baby girl…I'm here," he said.

The deepness of his voice quieted Terrina's discomfort. She latched onto his face with teary eyes and studied him like she had to take a test the next day. He touched her thin blue t-shirt with little white ducks on them and looked over the matching bottoms that covered her diaper. Her hands relaxed, and he touched each finger, admired every little toe. He stroked her ears that stuck out like his, and he sniffed her dark brown curls that looked so full all over her scalp. She had Nova's heart-shaped face and plump cupid-bow lips, but everything else on that baby was him.

"Nova…thank you," he said.

He squeezed his eyes shut and made a vow. No one would ever shame Nova for having Terrina. People could keep it in the groupchat about the adulterous affair. Their baby came to them beyond the depths of pain and confusion. Love created her. Nothing more, nothing less.

He heard the murmurings and loud chatter out front. English and Gullah-laced conversations rambled on, but Terry was in a love bubble with Terrina and Nova. Terrina started fretting and moving her limbs about.

"Sit on the bed, Terry. I need to feed her."

He stood and gave up the chair for Nova, then handed her the baby. Nova slid the top of her wrap dress aside and pulled down the flap on her dark blue maternity bra that revealed a heavy breast. Terrina's little body started bouncing with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and made sucking motions.

"Yes, mommy is going to feed you now," Nova said in a singsong voice.

His heart melted when he witnessed Terrina's slobbery smile for the first time in person. She latched onto the nipple and her chunky cheeks puffed in and out as she fed. Nova rubbed her hair and Terrina stared at her mother with peace in her eyes. Her little feet kicked up, and he touched her toes again.

"I can't believe we made her," he said.

"We did."

Terrina actively sucked away, keeping her little green eyes on Nova's face. Occasionally, her eyes wandered to look at him, still trying to figure out who the unknown man in the room was. Eventually, she released the one nipple from her small mouth and Nova offered her the other one.

"She feeds from each breast…you can tell when she's ready to switch by the way she bounces and slows down on sucking," Nova told him.

Terry kissed Nova on the cheek. He observed it all with wonderment.

"I have a breast pump, so you'll be helping with this," she teased.

"I'm ready," he said.

A creaking sound on a floorboard caught their attention. Mawmaw pushed her walker near the doorway.

"Oonah stomach in ya back?" Mawmaw asked him.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Terry asked.

Nova giggled. Mawmaw looked at her.

"Axum fuh me," Mawmaw said.

Nova smiled at Terry.

"Are you hungry? We've got plenty of leftovers."

His stomach growled and for the first time, Mawmaw grinned at him.

"Wolf in his belly. C'mon…fixin' ya plate…"

Mawmaw turned around and shuffled off.

"Go get something to eat. We'll be right here waiting for you," Nova said.

He lowered his head and kissed her firmly on the lips. She parted her lips, and he sought the familiar taste of her tongue to remind himself that she belonged to him. Terrina swatted a chubby finger on his cheek and he kissed her small hand and forehead. Baby powder and Johnson's baby lotion scents wafted into his nose. He wanted to stay but his stomach snitched on him again. Starving.

Terry followed Mawmaw as she rolled her walker past a small dining room into her kitchen. A stove full of big pots and pans caught his eyes, as well as a kitchen table displaying the remains of leftover homemade biscuits, white gravy, link sausages, fried potatoes, and scrambled eggs. Mawmaw pointed to an empty chair at the far end of the table near the window. A dark-skinned woman in her fifties with short red-dyed locs sat across from him, finishing up a plate of food.

"How you doing? I'm Terry."

"I'm doing well this Sunday. I'm Brielle."

Brielle broke apart a biscuit and smothered it in gravy.

"You drove here, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thirty-seven hours with two catnaps."

"My goodness. By yourself?"

"Yes."

Mawmaw lifted a plate on the counter and scooped out a healthy serving of yellow grits and covered it in shrimp and gravy.

"You have shrimp and grits before?" Brielle asked.

"My mama makes it."

"Where you from?"

"Cypress Bend, Louisiana."

"That's where you drove from?"

"I came from California…I can get that," he said.

He stood and took the plate and a fork from Mawmaw so she wouldn't have to struggle to move around. She turned and sat on the small seat connected to her walker. He closed his eyes and prayed over his food and when he opened them back up, Mawmaw seemed pleased by the act.

"Una go to church, young man?" Mawmaw asked.

"Not as much as I should. I used to sing in the choir at my church back home. I was raised Baptist."

Mawmaw nodded.

"What oonah parents think 'bout whatchu did?" Mawmaw asked.

"Mawmaw, let him eat his food," Brielle said.

"My house, I talk when I want."

Pauletta popped in and went directly to Mawmaw.

"Mawmaw, Mrs. Tinely is outside. She brought you some of her collards."

Mawmaw, stood and turned her walker toward the front room. Pauletta followed behind her. Terry dug into the food. It was still warm and savory. The grits were creamy with butter, and the gravy was packed with salty bacon and onion bits. Garlic and bell peppers rounded out the flavor, and he smacked his lips.

"This is a good roux. Nice and thick," he said.

Brielle wiped crumbs from her bottom lip with a napkin.

"Listen to me good, Terry. This family has been in an uproar about this situation with you and Nova. We love Terrina…she's blood and she ain't did nothing wrong coming into the world. I think what you did is wrong, but I understand how things can happen. Shit, we dragged Jordan by his edges, too and it caused a rift between our two families. Mawmaw won't even let him come inside the house anymore. I hope your intentions being here are good for Nova's sake…and my grand-niece."

"They are. I love, Nova."

"Jordan said he loved her, too. Words don't mean nothin' to me. We got two babies who need fathering. If you mean well, all ya gotta do is show us, and you'll be alright young man."

Terry kept eating. Brielle's tone didn't sound adversarial. It was forthright. He acted the same way.

"Who called Nova a whore?"

Brielle blinked twice, and her lips moved slightly to the right of her face.

"Uncle Pete is old school. A deacon in the church. Old people don't mince words."

"I don't either."

She grinned.

"Okay now, that's real good. Don't back down from the naysayers. However, if the Patterson family find out you're here, things might get outta hand. None of them wanna see you 'round these parts."

Terry piled a few sausages on his plate with a biscuit.

"Nobody can run me off from my baby or Nova. I'm taking her with me when I leave. Her and the children."

"Say what now?"

"I didn't come this far to visit and leave by myself. I'm taking my family with me."

"She's not even divorced yet."

"Does she have full custody of Van-Van?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then she can leave…freely."

"You can't take them kids away from Mawmaw. It'll break her heart."

"Nova doesn't want to be here. She's not happy. Who would be, though? Being called names by her family members and looked down on like she's wearing a scarlet letter 'A' on her chest."

Brielle stood and touched his arm.

"It's not everybody, mainly the older ones. Show them who you are and things will smooth over. You already doin' better than Jordan."

"How's that?"

"Mawmaw let you in the house."

Brielle winked her eye and cleared her dishes.

He ate his food in silence. A bunch of children ran into the kitchen from the back door. Three boys and two girls, all around eight to twelve-years-old.

"Who are you?" the oldest girl asked.

"Terry," he said.

The girl stared at his eyes.

"You got eyes like, Terrina."

"I'm her father."

"How you her father when Auntie Nova is married to Uncle Jordan?"

Terry chewed his last piece of sausage and cleaned up his plate in the sink. He left the children staring at his back.

The adults gossiped in the front room and out on the porch. He slipped past them and searched for a restroom. After relieving himself, he stared at his reflection.

"Relax…relax…"

He splashed cool water on his face and used a paper towel on the sink to wipe the excess liquid away. His lips curled into a smile, noticing the fancy hand towels on the rack behind him. Mawmaw didn't want anyone touching her nice pink hand towels. Paper towels for everyone. Just like his mama back home.

Before he went back to Nova and Terrina, he wanted to speak to Uncle Pete.

He followed a plastic runner on the floor that led him back to the front room. The elders watched him open the screen and step outside. Mawmaw sat on her walker, talking to a middle-aged fair-skinned Black woman, Mrs. Tinely, in a corner of the porch. Nella perked up when she noticed him.

"Which one of these men out here is Uncle Pete?" Terry asked.

Nella turned her head to show him, but the older man stepped forward. Pete looked to be in his mid-sixties, with a paunchy belly and umber skin. His receding hairline added a few years to his appearance, and the dull brown church slacks and tan button-up shirt screamed conservative and cheap.

"I'm Uncle Pete," the man boomed with a voice almost as deep as Terry's.

"May I speak to you, sir, in private?"

Nella gave Pete a look, and the older man glanced around to see if anyone heard Terry. They did. He followed Pete down the steps with several sets of curious eyes tracking them from the porch. The two men stepped to the right side of the stairs that led to a driveway with part of the house acting as a carport covering. Blue glass bottles decorated a small tree at the edge of the property. Sunlight struck a few of the bottles, creating streaks of blue diffuse refection against the side of the house. He recognized the tradition that was done in Louisiana, too. Used for protection and to ward off evil, his daddy called them spirit bottles. His grandmother in Yazoo, Mississippi had one. The blue color was meant to imitate water and thwart troublesome entities from bothering the home since they couldn't cross over running water. The bottles were supposed to trap them if they dared to trick their way near.

Pete folded his arms across his chest.

"What do you want to speak with me about?"

"I heard that you called Nova a whore because she gave birth to my daughter."

Pete tilted his head and spoke boldly.

"Do not prostitute thy daughter, to cause her to be a whore…lest the land fall to whoredom, and the land become full of wickedness."

Terry stepped closer to Pete, lowering his head so he could look the man directly in the eyes.

"Respectfully, sir, no man, especially a man of God, should disrespect his niece by calling her a whore."

"Tell him!" Nella said.

"Nella!"

Mawmaw's voice echoed loud above them.

Pete looked past Terry. Nella stared down at them with Mawmaw, Brielle and the other men present. Sweat traced several paths on Pete's face from the rising temperature and the sun hanging directly overhead. A glint of blue bottle reflection speckled his cheek.

"Men are talking," Mawmaw said.

"Talk to him, Terry," Nella urged.

"Any anger, disappointment, or harsh words you want to speak…you say them to me. Not her. Jordan broke his vows to her in California first several times over. He'd been doing so even before she came out there. Nova tried her best to be a good wife to him, but he neglected her. Could I have inserted myself into her life properly by waiting for her to divorce? Sure… but I didn't, and that's on me."

"I won't stand here and have a snake in the Lord's garden justify his actions leading Nova astray. Her sin and your sin ended a marriage that had been in the making for years. You put asunder two large families, not just two individuals, son."

"I don't need to justify my actions to you. She and I have a beautiful daughter together that I want to support. I plan on taking responsibility for both of them. I'm asking you to stop insulting her because I won't tolerate it."

"You created a broken home, young man. Do ya think coming here absolves you of that? We don't know you. We don't know your people. Had you not interfered, she and Jordan could've weathered the storm with more counseling and time to heal."

Terry placed his hands together in front of Pete.

"Let me make this clear to you, …sir…Nova suffered mental, and emotional abuse with Jordan's infidelity. Physical abuse too, if you count the potential sexually transmitted diseases he could've brought home to her. He screwed so many women that they were sending him care packages overseas while he had a wife and child at home waiting on him. Nova is done with him. Sorry to his family, but I plan on making a new family with her the moment her divorce goes through. Jordan broke his family…not me."

Terry's voice rose loud enough to concern Nova's people. Pauletta lowered her head. Hearing the full extent of her son-in-law's behavior must've shocked her. A few of the younger men walked down the steps to watch them closer. Nella came down too, with Brielle.

"Jordan ripped her heart out and I'm putting it back in… and protecting it from now on. Please save your words about whores and wickedness for him, not Nova."

"She never should've had a child out of wedlock with someone who isn't her husband!"

Nella stepped forward and waved her hands.

"Now…now Uncle Pete…let's not go there. You the last person who should be talking about having kids out of wedlock with all the outside kids you have running around here."

She put a hand on her hip.

"It's always the folks who live in their self-righteous glass houses that wanna throw stones. Be the first ones ready to judge people like they shit don't stink. It's time we all mind our business and let Nova live her life without a bunch of hypocrites wagging they finger. Maybe you need to call Aunt Evelyn and ask her how it felt to be married to you back in the day with all your cheatin' and carrying on."

"I'm a saved man walking with Christ now!"

Pete threw up his hands in disgust and stomped down the street. Nella catcalled him.

"Yeah, kitchen got hot and ya gotta leave with Christ, huh, Uncle Pete? Don't like it when a mirror is put up to your face, huh?"

Pete climbed into a red Escalade and drove off. Brielle rolled her eyes and glanced at Nella.

"Watch him call Mawmaw whining about this later," Brielle said.

"You know he will," Nella said.

Terry walked past the younger men who avoided eye contact with him. He climbed the stairs and looked at the rest of the family on the porch.

"Excuse me," he said.

He grit his teeth and fought the urge to check every single person there. Nova's mother stayed next to Mawmaw. He swept back into the house and picked up Nova's flowers and his daughter's bag of new clothes. Even the children moved out of his way as they sat on the floor watching a cartoon in front of an older model big screen TV.

His long legs carried him to the back bedroom.

Nova held Terrina by the open window where a crib stood. She heard everything through the screen. He placed the bag on the bed and put the flowers on a nightstand.

"Food was good," he said.

She nodded and kissed Terrina's forehead. He moved over to her and wrapped his arms around them both. Looking down at his daughter, he noticed her cheeks puffing out. Nova caught the strained expression on her face, too, and sniffed the air.

"Uh oh, someone's gone stink-stink," Nova said.

She handed him Terrina and dug into a diaper bag under the crib. She grabbed a towel on a dresser and spread it on the double bed. Gesturing for him to bring the baby, she stepped back.

"Time for your first diaper changing session," Nova said.

Oh, Lord.

Terry held Terrina for the longest time until his eyes drooped. His road trip caught up to him and he slept on the bed while Nova fed their daughter once more.

The colors of the sky had changed from powder blue to blue-black when he woke up. The temperature was slightly cooler, yet still muggy. Nova was no longer in the bedroom with him. He heard her voice speaking softly in another room.

Terrina slumbered peacefully in her crib.

Terry stared at her for a long time. His mama and dad would faint with joy, knowing they were finally grandparents. He itched to call them, but decided he would bring Terrina to them as a surprise Christmas gift. They longed for grandchildren out of their three children. But his oldest sister married her husband and raised two golden retrievers as their children. His older brother worked in a fast-paced five-star restaurant in New York as an avowed bachelor. Most of their cousins had children and his parents sulked every holiday, lamenting at the fact they were everyone's favorite aunt and uncle, yet never grandparents capable of spoiling their own grandkids. Terry broke the baby drought finally. He couldn't wait to see their shocked expressions in three months.

He rested his large hand on his daughter's midsection to feel the rise and fall of her chubby tummy. She stirred. Her limbs quivered, and she wiggled a bit before opening her eyes.

"Hi my sweet little girl," he said softly above her.

Her lips poked out, and her fretful expression humbled him. Terry lifted her up and held her close to his heart, bouncing her gently to offset the unhappy noises she made. He was still a stranger to her. He cooed and made soft sounds. She didn't cry, only gurgled and squirmed in his arms. Terry rubbed her back and walked around the room. When he cradled her, Terrina's face looked ready to cry.

"Daddy doesn't want to upset you…let's go find mommy, okay?"

"Neh…neh…" she replied, with a crinkled nose.

He wandered through the hallway and journeyed to the front room. Mawmaw sat in her rocker with Nova across from her in another armchair. Nella sat on the couch watching the TV. All eyes gazed at him walking in with his baby.

"You must've slept well," Nella said.

He grinned.

Mawmaw studied his presence and he figured the thawing out came from holding his own child and loving on her. It shifted something in the matriarch. Maybe it was the curt words he had with Uncle Pete. He glimpsed lines on Nova's forehead and became alert to restlessness in the mood of everyone there. The bulk of the Walker family already left.

He sat down next to Nella on the couch and Terrina relaxed in his arms as the familiar sound of Nella's baby-talking voice kicked in. Mawmaw glanced at Nova. Nova fidgeted in her seat.

"Terry, Jordan is on his way to drop off Van-Van. He'll be here soon."

"He know I'm here?"

"No."

"I'll stay in the backroom when he comes."

Nova nodded.

"I have to face him soon, Nova. You know that."

"I know."

He stood and padded over to Mawmaw, handing her Terrina. She held the baby close to her chest.

A late evening breeze rattled a few of the bottles on the tree outside. The lights of a car pulled into the carport driveway. Nova jumped up, and Terry retreated to the back bedroom. He sat on the bed and rested his hands on his thighs. A car door opened and slammed shut. Terry waited for Jordan to enter the house with Van-Van. Instead, he heard a woman's voice.

"He had a nap earlier so he may take longer to get to sleep tonight…Jordan bought him more pull-ups and put them in his bag with the cleaned clothes," the voice said.

"I'll bring him next week earlier," Nova said.

"You can drop him off at Boppie's house, Benji's birthday party is on Friday."

"Alright. Please make sure Boppie keeps Van-Van at the house. If Jordy makes runs, I want someone going with him…I don't trust where he goes."

"We're doing everything we can, Nova…Charles has been keeping an eye on him. You can call me if you don't want to speak to Jordan directly."

"Is he in the car?"

"Yeah."

"Sober?"

"As far as I know, yeah."

"He must not be if you had to drive and not him."

"He's just tired from earlier. We took Van-Van to the park with Erika's boys…hey Mawmaw…Nella."

"Hey, Michelle."

"Night."

The front door closed.

Terry peeked from the window and watched Michelle walk down the steps. Her tall frame disappeared under the carport where the back bedroom sat above.

Nova joined him in the bedroom and sat on the armchair. Her face had relaxed from its pinched expression right before Van-Van arrived.

"Nella has Van-Van," she said.

Heaviness pressed down on the room. Reality sunk in for Terry. Nova's life and the life of the children were in his hands. He reached over and held her hand, threading their fingers together.

"Why did you leave Jordan? Did he cheat again?"

Nova lowered her gaze to their hands clasped together and shook her head.

"His friend Charles got him a job at the port authority…helping to manage the trailers and containers. He makes decent money. I thought we were going to be okay, but then…I started finding tiny plastic baggies around the house…in his car. There were extreme mood swings. He started peeing in the bed almost every night. I thought something was wrong with his prostate. I had to put rubber sheets on our bed because he soaked up two mattresses. He started losing weight, and his face looked gaunt. I thought he was sick and begged him to get help. People I didn't know started hanging out with him. White guys. Backwoods lookin' people. At first I thought they were his new co-workers, but Charles said they were a rough crowd that hung out at a bar I've never been to before. A bunch of drug dealers and users. I showed Charles the little bags, and he told me Jordan was hooked on meth. God, Terry, I wish he was seeing another woman."

She covered her face with her hands.

"Take your time," he said.

She ran a nervous hand over the curls at her nape.

"I confronted him about it and he promised to stop. I changed Van-Van's name during that time because I could see the writing on the wall. He agreed to the change as long as I stayed with him. I did so only to get his signature for the legal documents. I called his parents and told them what was going on. His family did an intervention, and he checked into rehab. He came home and two weeks later…I found the baggies again. That's when I left him. Took Van-Van to my brother's house and then moved here after Terrina was born."

Nova took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead.

"I filed for a no-fault divorce. We have to live apart for a length of time and I'm hoping it'll be finalized by Christmas or New Year's at the latest. I requested full custody of both children and he gave it because he didn't want me filing about his drug use. I just don't understand how someone who had everything handed to him could ruin his life on purpose. He comes from a solid family…had a promising military career. Our families are so close. The man isn't stupid. He skipped going to college because he wanted to be a marine his whole life like his dad. I thought our life was going to be perfect. But then he left for basic training…"

Nova leaned her elbow on the armrest and covered her mouth.

"What kind of man throws his life away…the life of his son and wife, too…for nothing?" she asked.

Terry pulled her onto the bed with him. They laid back and faced each other.

"I went to Oceanside thinking my dream had come true. The boy I was crazy about grew up into this handsome, virile man… a soldier…yet it all turned into a nightmare. When I look back on it, I really think he wanted me pregnant because he didn't think I'd leave him because of our families being tight. He had the nerve to tell me after I handed him our divorce papers that we'd get back together again because no one wants a single mom with two kids."

"What happened when he found out about Terrina?"

Her eyebrows knitted together. It took her a long time to gather her thoughts.

"When she came out of me, none of us suspected anything. She was all wrinkled and very sensitive to light. Her eyes looked puffy, and she slept a lot. It was her ears that caught my attention after I brought her home. Then…it was clear by the eyes that she was yours. Jordy was the first and only man I ever slept with until you came along. I believed Jordy was my one true love, so even when we were on the outs, I never let any other man inside of me."

She stroked his shirt.

"The first time I met you, I thought to myself, 'That is the type of man I want Jordy to become'. When I got to know you better, I knew Jordy didn't have it in him to be like you."

He pulled her in closer. She spoke in a whisper.

"I was attracted to you the first time I met you, Terry. I took one look at your face and got scared…like I knew my life was all wrong…like I'd made a mistake. The first time I kissed you, I knew you were my destiny. Jordy was out getting high when Terrina was born. He visited us at the hospital lit as hell. His family pressured him to clean up again a few days later, and that's when he found out. He saw Terrina's eyes and got real quiet. Scary quiet. I confessed to him everything. He cried…cursed your name…cursed me while I held her in my arms. My brother put him out of the house and we didn't talk for about a week. He came back and said he would claim Terrina as his daughter, no matter what. Said I got my lick back by having another man's baby, but I was still his legal wife and the law would see him as Terrina's father because his name was on the birth certificate. As far as he was concerned, Terrina was his daughter and he would take the L and deal with it. I called Bethany because you had changed your number. She told me to do right by Terrina and tell you the truth. It took me a month to get the courage, and even then, all I could do was send you a picture and my new number. Jordy didn't want anyone to know. Instead of leaving me alone, he got it in his head that he would raise Terrina. I told him I was going to tell you. That's when he threatened to kill you and me if you ever came into the picture."

Terry's body tensed.

"He threatened physical violence against you?"

She nodded.

"Did you tell anyone? Get a restraining order or anything?"

"I went to the magistrate's office, but in order to file a complaint, you must have two incidents of harassment, stalking, or anything else threatening."

"What about when he cursed you out about the baby?"

"He was angry and directed most of his hate at you. Besides, he has a cousin who works in that department, and another cousin who is a cop here. They'd lie on his behalf to protect him and keep their family's reputation intact. I kept the paperwork and let Jordy know if he ever did anything, I would file anyway, and then head to family court to deny him visitation rights with Van-Van. God…none of them witnessed what I went through with him in California. They coddled him and turned me into the villain who tore the marriage apart. I hate it here so much."

"We have to get tests done for me and Terrina. I have to file paternity rights with the court. I want his name off her birth certificate. Nova…I want to take you and the children to Louisiana for Christmas. I haven't told my family about you and Terrina yet because I want to surprise them. I have plenty of leave time to deal with court stuff and spend time here getting to know my baby. But I have to speak with Jordan this week. I can't hide from him. Things will get uncomfortable, but the sooner he knows I'm in the picture, he'll have to come to terms with going through me for anything dealing with you."

"I want to be with you, Terry. I don't want my kids growing up around him. He'll put up a fight with me taking Van-Van away, and I don't want to deal with that or his family."

She broke down in tears.

He wiped her tears away and kissed her nose.

"I don't have much in savings or anything. The only money I get now is what Jordy gives me for the kids. I can get a job when we go to California."

"Don't worry about money or working. I have enough to cover us and I'm making some investments soon for long-term financial moves. We'll figure out a budget and expenses while I'm here… together. My condo's lease ends next August. I'll let you decide where we live. I don't even mind commuting if you want to try that TV station internship again."

Her eyes shined with delight at the idea. She'd lost so much with her goals. He was determined to give her those opportunities back.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

Terry removed himself from the bed and opened the door. Nella stood before him.

"Hey…the kids want to be with you, Nova. Terry, I made up the pullout bed for you to sleep on in the front room. Mawmaw doesn't want you sleeping in the bedroom with Nova because Van-Van shares the bed with her."

"I'm okay with that," he said.

"I'll bring them in here. Mawmaw is going to bed now."

He nodded and took a seat in the armchair. Nella returned holding a sleeping Terrina. She ushered Van-Van inside. The boy rubbed at his eyes.

"Hi, Van-Van," Terry whispered.

Nella put Terrina in her crib, and Nova pulled her son onto her lap.

"Night y'all," Nella said.

Van-Van stared at Terry with open curiosity.

"I suppose you don't remember me at all, huh, buddy? I was your godfather for a minute."

The toddler leaned into Nova's chest. His little 'fro was an explosion of thick corkscrew curls about three inches long.

"I'll let you two get ready for bed," he said.

He left the room and meandered back to where he would sleep. Two blankets were folded and stacked for him in the middle of the made-up sleeper. He stepped out of the house and drove his truck into the driveway. There were still two bags in the backseat, along with his duffle bag of clothes and toiletries. He left his two rollerbags of clothes under the truck bed covering. No need to pull them out until they left town.

He showered and changed his clothes in the bathroom, donning a thin t-shirt and plain blue pajama bottoms. Brushing his teeth, he settled in for the night. He pulled a wave cap over his hair and returned to the front room. The sleeper bed wasn't too lumpy. The mattress was thin, though.

He fell asleep thinking about Nova in the next room.

Terry awoke to find Nova sitting in the armchair across from the sofa bed, feeding Terrina. He glanced at his phone on the end table. Four in the morning. She looked exhausted and half asleep. Terrina released her nipple and wiggled in her arms.

"Here, give her to me. You go back to bed," he said.

Nova handed him the baby, and he rested Terrina on his chest. Right near his heart.

"Go on," he said.

Nova lingered.

"I'm so happy you're here," she said.

He puckered his lips, and she kissed him.

"Bring her to me if she becomes too much."

"She's never too much for me."

"I'm going to use the pump to make a bottle for you, in case she needs to be fed again in the next couple of hours. I'll put it in the fridge. There's a bottle warmer on the counter right next to the toaster. You can drop it in and press the 'on' button. It's already pre-set for the temperature."

Nova touched her bottom lip and her eyes looked off into the distance as if she were trying to remember something else.

"Nova…baby…I'll figure it all out. I know where the diapers, wipes and creams are. Go sleep. I got this. When she's back to sleep, I'll put her in the crib. I have the baby monitor right there if she wakes up again."

Nova wandered back to the bedroom. The soft suction of the breast pump hummed after a few minutes. He looked down at Terrina.

"You and me? Tag team?" he said, softly.

He rubbed her back gently, and she released a little burp that made him smile. Listening to the sounds of the old house, it didn't take long to hear Nova's footsteps moving into the kitchen, putting a bottle away. She ducked her head back in.

"I was able to make two bottles," she whispered.

"Okay. We're good here."

She went back to the bedroom.

Holding his child so close, Terry felt like the world had grown bigger with Terrina in it. Used to living day by day, no further than the week ahead of him, he now had to consider years into the future. She wouldn't always stay a tiny baby. She'd learn to walk, talk…run. He couldn't worry about protecting the country anymore from outside threats. He had to hone in on the tiny girl on his chest from now on… his flesh and blood, not the unknown citizens he trained other men to go fight for.

The world could be a dangerous place, and little girls needed fathers who would slay dragons for them. His precious baby slept on his chest for about an hour before he was positive she wouldn't wake up if he moved. He carried her into the back bedroom and quietly put her back in the crib.

Van-Van slept against Nova's side. He watched them both sleep for a minute and then returned to the sofa bed. Sleep wouldn't come to him, so he watched the color of the sky slowly change into pale pastels to bring in the new day. Terrina's soft whimpering crackled on the baby monitor. He rose from his bed and entered the back bedroom again, getting a feel for everything Nova had to do twenty-four seven. Finding the baby's diaper clean, he picked her up; she stared at him, her tiny lips forming shapes as she stuck her tongue in and out.

"Somebody's hungry again. Good Lord, little girl, you'll be as big as daddy if you keep eating so much."

The corners of Terrina's lips went up at the sound of his voice, and she opened her mouth, making breathy sounds. He grinned at her and she gave him the biggest smile that melted his heart.

"Daddy loves you," he whispered.

Nova rolled over and looked at them.

"Sleep some more," he said.

He walked out carrying Terrina and went to the kitchen. Heating the baby bottle was easy and soon enough he was in the front room armchair feeding his daughter an early breakfast. Around seven thirty, Mawmaw and Nella roused up and started cooking breakfast, using the leftovers from Sunday's breakfast.

Mawmaw peeked at him holding Terrina.

"She take to una, real good, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Van-Van ran in and hugged her.

"Mornin'," Mawmaw said.

She patted Van-Van's hair and Nova came out to join him wearing a robe.

"Got some sleep?" Mawmaw said.

"Thanks to Terry."

"Breakfast is ready. Y'all come on in here," Nella said.

Terry could tell Mawmaw wanted to hold Terrina, but she moved her walker toward the dining room. He started following them, but stopped when he smelled a sudden odor. He sniffed and looked at Terrina. Her cheeks puffed out like she had jawbreaker candies stuck in them. Stink-stink.

He changed her diaper and enjoyed the rest of the day with his new family. Mawmaw started talking to him about his life and Nella listened in while weaving sweetgrass baskets with Nova on the porch. The women's nimble fingers wove the pleasant-smelling plant fiber using a long nail and twisting the long strands of sweetgrass around. Nella sold them in a little shop she co-owned with a cousin and also online.

Mawmaw was a master basketweaver and taught her children and grandchildren the skill. Nova instructed him on how to start his own basket and he was able to weave a little coaster for his beers. She showed him the round earrings she made for herself and wore them proudly. There was something sacred about watching the women weave as Mawmaw overlooked their work with advice and suggestions on the designs. He admired the baskets around the house that were over a hundred years old and crafted by Mawmaw's aunts and other kin. She told him stories about cymbee spirits in the rivers surrounding the island and warned him about trickster mermaids in the ocean who loved to seduce handsome men and drag them to their watery world. Terry grinned and Mawmaw teased him, "They like a big fella like una. Watch out now!" Nova giggled with embarrassment witnessing her grandmother warming up to him further.

In the late afternoon, he went for a walk to the beach with Nova and the children. She fitted his shoulders and midsection with a stretchy orange baby wrap, and placed Terrina in it so he could carry her while she held Van-Van's hand. A shyness came over her as they joined hands for the first time in public. Van-Van's curiosity about him would transform their relationship. This was their first step in becoming something new in the world together.

They watched Van-Van run around on the beach with his toddler waddle. Terrina fell asleep, and he loved the feel of her warm little body snug against his. On the way back, they stopped by the bottle tree so Van-Van could look at the pretty blue colors sparkle in the sunlight.

After putting the children down for a nap, he and Nova called to make an appointment for the paternity test. They also narrowed down a choice of lawyers to a Black woman with a solid reputation. He called and spoke to her directly, making a personal appointment for Wednesday.

By dinner, Terry grew comfortable in Mawmaw's house. He washed the dishes and looked after the children with Mawmaw while Nova helped Nella clean the porch. They laughed and told jokes and seemed at peace until Nova's father showed up.

Mr. Titus Easton was fifty-one, broad-shouldered, good-looking, with a cleft chin, and a boisterous energy about him. It reminded Terry of Jordan.

"Terry, this is my father. Daddy, this is…well, you know who he is," Nova said.

Mawmaw and Nella left the front room to find other things to do in the house. Van-Van played with the Captain America doll, and Nova held their daughter.

"Sit down, young man," Titus said.

Nova turned to leave the room, but her father pointed for her to sit on the couch next to Terry. Titus sat in the armchair and stared at them both with sad eyes.

"I didn't come to Sunday breakfast with your mother Nova because I was too upset and afraid of what I would say while everybody was here. But I thought about it and I want to know what you two plan on doing."

Terry sat close to Nova as she cuddled Terrina. Van-Van went on about his business saving the world with Sam Wilson on the floor.

"I contacted a lawyer, sir, and this Wednesday I'm getting a DNA test to establish paternity. We're getting Terrina's birth certificate amended as soon as possible."

"And then what? My daughter's divorce hasn't gone through. She's still married to Jordan. What are your intentions besides taking care of the child you made with her?"

Terry didn't sense anger in Titus. The man genuinely sounded worried for his daughter and grandchildren. Terry hadn't planned to talk about marriage until he asked Nova for her hand, but her father pressed him to speak about everything.

"I want to marry her, Mr. Easton."

Nova's eyes widened, and she couldn't hold back a smile.

"I see. Will you relocate here?"

"No. I'm taking Nova with me. The children, too."

Titus kept quiet. He looked at his grandson on the floor.

"Does your mother know this, Nova?"

"No."

"Is this really what you want to do?"

"I want to be with Terry. We have a daughter now, and we need to be together to raise her. Van-Van as well."

"Is he a good man?"

"Better than good, daddy. He supports me. Loves me. Wants to be with me."

Terrina wiggled and Terry took her from Nova's arms. Titus looked at his granddaughter's precious face and then studied the same features on Terry's.

"Terry is the one, daddy. Jordan was a terrible mistake that can't be fixed. Prayer and counseling don't work. He broke me…brought me to my lowest."

Nova's lip trembled, and she buried her face against Terry's shoulder. Titus stood and walked over to her.

"Come here, sweetheart," Titus said.

Nova stood and hugged her father. He stroked her hair and patted her back.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I had to come see for myself. I've always wanted the best for you and you've always been a good person who worked hard and did all the things in life right. It hurt me when your mother told me about what Terry said…how you suffered so much humiliation. Why didn't you tell us when you were out there?"

Nova wiped her eyes.

"You taught me to always try to work through problems…and Jordy and I…it was hard to tell everyone the truth about him because everybody had such high expectations for us…for our families connecting. I didn't want to give up if there was a chance for things to get better. They just didn't…not even when we came home."

"Okay…okay…I understand…"

Titus comforted his daughter. He stepped back from her and held his hands out for Terrina.

"May I?"

Terry handed the baby to him.

"Hey punkin, grandpa came to see you and Van-Van."

Van-Van heard his name and jumped up, grabbing hold of Titus's leg, showing him his new action figure.

"He fly, grampa," Van-Van said.

"He does? Lemme see."

He moved over to the middle of the floor and Van-Van ran in a circle around him, holding up Sam Wilson. Titus spent an hour with his grandchildren before handing Terrina over for a feeding.

"Come to the house for dinner on Thursday," Titus said. "We'll break the news to your mother and work out ways to help you."

"Thank you, daddy," Nova said.

Titus held out a hand to Terry.

"We can talk again…later. I feel like things are moving too fast for the two of you, but I won't stand in your way," Titus said.

"I respect that," Terry said.

Titus left, and Nova continued feeding the baby. Van-Van showed Terry the other things he bought for him and they interacted in a way that made Mawmaw smile when she returned to the front room and settled into her rocking chair.

The evening quieted his mind and he sat with Nova on the porch trying to catch a cool breeze. They held hands and talked quietly, reminding one another of why they fell in love. Each of them had inquisitive minds and they admired that about the other. Technology and new media interested them and they laughed about the short videos she posted on social media back in Oceanside, where she described life as a marine wife and Sci Fi geek. She had a couple of popular videos where she talked about books and others about being a new mother that went viral before she left for South Carolina.

On Wednesday, they packed up the baby in a car seat and left Van-Van with Nella to babysit so they could get the paternity test done at the South Carolina Department of Social Services. Cheek swabs were taken for him and Terrina, and afterward, they headed over to see his lawyer, Shelly-Anne, where they would make sure all legal paperwork went through her. They explained their situation and Nova gave Shelley-Anne Jordan's address to be notified of the legal proceedings as they came about pertaining to Terrina.

He dropped Nova and the children off at her parent's house Thursday morning and drove to a popular Charleston barbecue joint, Rodney Scott's BBQ. Terry didn't tell her he was meeting Jordan face to face before dinner with her parents. She would've freaked out and probably insisted that she come with him. He had to see the man alone. But he kept the venue public.

Arriving ten minutes after the place opened, he requested a seat on the outside patio and waited. He spotted Jordan as he rounded a corner.

The man didn't look well at all. Jordan once had the physique and clean-cut look the marines put on the cover of brochures for marketing, but now…

Meth had taken a toll on him.

There were deep grooves in his cheeks and the weight loss startled Terry. Jordan looked half his former size. Some muscle mass still gave him a cut, lean look with his frame, but the scruffy beard that didn't connect and the faraway look in his eyes hinted at the man's struggle. People who didn't know Jordan would probably see a handsome Black man out in casual dress of basketball shorts and a hoodie with a purposely unkempt short 'fro, with legs in need of lotion. To Terry's eyes, the man appeared unwell, and not just physically.

Jordan peered at the other patrons on the far side of the patio area with suspicion. When he lined his gaze with Terry, his body tensed and he halted, as if Terry were an apparition he wasn't truly expecting to see. There was no masking the blistering contempt in his eyes.

Jordan moved closer with an erratic bounce in his step and sat down across from him. For a full five minutes, they stared at each other. Actually, Terry stared and Jordan glared. A server brought them water and menus.

"We'll need some time looking this over. There's a lot to choose from," he told the server.

"No problem."

The young white woman walked away. Jordan leaned forward.

"I asked you to your fucking face if you were fucking her, and you told me…to my face…that you weren't. Some friend you turned out to be."

Terry didn't break eye contact and kept his cool.

"Why did you sleep with her?"

"Because your neglect made it easy to take her."

His voice came out condescending, and that's not how Terry wanted to sound. That was ego talking. That was male flexing to dig at a loser. False bravado masking the dirt on his hands for taking another man's woman even though he knew it was wrong. Jordan wasn't really a loser…just lost. Somewhere along his path to adulthood, he got stunted. Used other women to hide whatever internal failings he had.

Terry folded his hands on the table.

"I fell in love with her, Jordan. It's as simple as that. You didn't want her. I did. Now she and I have a child together—"

Jordan slammed his fist on the patio table. Terry glanced around. No one paid attention to them isolated in a corner.

"Nova is my wife—"

"Estranged wife. That divorce paperwork is coming soon. I'm also getting my name put on Terrina's birth certificate. I want you to hear this from me first…I'm taking Nova away from Charleston."

His words slowly registered in Jordan's brain. Tears welled up in the man's eyes.

"I take care of both my kids," Jordan barked. "Terrina is my daughter legally. I pay child support for her. Whatever you and Nova had is over, nigga. You're not taking my wife and kids outta Charleston."

"Nova doesn't want to be here. Her life will be away from you. I'm sorry, man. That's the way it's going to be. From now on, we'll work out things civilly without short-changing you. You can stop paying for Terrina because that's my responsibility as her father. You're Novan's father. Nothing changes that. But let's be real here. You failed Nova as a man. Look at you…wasting away like you don't care. Stressing her out to where she wants to leave her entire family. We can set up visitation for you and Van-Van—"

Jordan lunged across the table. Terry anticipated the action, deflecting Jordan's hands away. Both men stood up and faced off. Jordan reached into the kangaroo pockets of his hoodie and Terry clearly saw him grip the outline of a gun. He quickly glanced around to make sure no patrons were nearby to get hurt. Holding up his hands to his chest, Terry stayed calm. From his peripheral, he noticed Titus approaching them.

"He has a weapon, Mr. Easton," Terry said under his breath, not wanting to escalate the situation.

"Jordy, stay easy…let's not get out of hand," Titus said.

"Why'd you invite him here?" Jordan said.

"I didn't."

Titus gingerly approached Terry's side.

"Your sister Michelle got a hold of me and told me you were meeting Terry here. She was worried about you getting into it, and she was right…we can all work this thing out like sensible men."

"Work things out? He's stealing my wife…taking my kids away from me."

Titus glanced at the outline of Jordan's hand gripping the gun.

"Jordan, we can get you some help. Get you back on the right track," Titus pleaded.

"Nah. I'ma get me a lawyer…I'm gonna fight this. Fight for my marriage. Ain't no slick, pretty boy taking my family away from me. Life ain't promised, but death is for sho'. I'll kill you first, Terry, before I let you take what's mine. Your days are numbered, nigga."

A police vehicle rolled by on the street, spooking Jordan. He stormed past Titus and left the patio just as other patrons entered to be seated. Terry took a deep breath and sat down. Titus took over Jordan's spot across from him.

"I…I had no idea he was that far gone," Titus said. "I knew he had problems, but…he actually wants to kill you."

"I can take any threat as long as it doesn't go toward Nova."

Titus's hands shook.

"His eyes looked so dead. That is not the same young man that married my daughter. My God."

The server returned and Terry encouraged Titus to eat lunch with him inside the establishment with a good view of the entrance, in case Jordan returned. They ordered pulled pork with coleslaw and hushpuppies. Pauletta planned on cooking an enormous meal for their dinner, so a sandwich with easy sides was what the two men allowed themselves to indulge in. Terry's calm dealing with an agitated Jordan impressed Titus. They spoke about his work in the marines and he explained from his side of things how he fell for Nova. He tried to keep away from her, but the pull—the attraction — was just too damn strong. Titus let slip a smile at the way Terry described all the qualities that made Nova special to him…made him willing to risk it all for her. Her sweetness. The way her mind worked. How she made him feel whole when he was with her. How she made everyone want to be their best selves when she was around. Her low country cooking. The unassuming beauty she carried inside and out. He couldn't tell him the more mushy poetic things he felt, like how the sun rose in her eyes, or how her kisses gave him the breath of life, or how her touches on his skin turned him into sculptor's clay that she could shape any way she liked.

They ate their food and got to know each other as mature men wanting the best for Nova and the children.

Terry followed Titus back to his Victorian-styled home. Neither of them wanted to alarm the women about Jordan, but Titus encouraged Terry to find a place to stay where he could keep Nova and the children safe quickly.

Dinner was tense with Titus and Terry listening for any cars pulling up, or waiting for calls to come at Nova. The Easton household had outdoor security cameras, and that helped with any warning. Nova kept her phone off and that left her in the dark until they ended the meal, when she wanted to call Nella and Mawmaw and let them know they were on their way back. Titus had sounded the alarm to the Patterson family after they left the BBQ spot, and Jordan's people searched the streets of Charleston looking for him, afraid he would harm himself. Everyone agreed Terry was the target, and Nova called Jordan's mother, Boppie, to cancel all of Van-Van's weekend visitations with his father until further notice.

Both families were on edge. Terry found a decent extended stay hotel with a small kitchen and double beds. Nova turned it into a home for them, cooking hearty meals and sharing childcare with him. The hotel afforded them some measure of safety and freedom until his lawyer completed his legal paperwork. Titus paid for their accommodations for a month and checked in with Terry every day.

Through it all, he bonded with Terrina and Van-Van.

His daughter loved the animated way he'd speak to her and nothing gave him joy in the morning more than waking up to the sound of her squeals or Van-Van tapping his face to wake him up for a trip to the nearby park. Nova became more relaxed in her own space. At night, when the children were fast asleep, they snuggled together under the covers, their only intimacy holding each other. They laughed and chatted away the hours, reigniting a passion that never left, even when she had been far away from him. Sharing a bed with Nova unlocked a new level of closeness he never experienced with a woman before. She tended to talk with her hands, gesticulating her points with dramatic sweeps in the air like butterflies dancing. While he spoke of his dreams for them, she would stare deep into his eyes. His voice mesmerized her and sometimes she'd look at him as if entranced, even if he was just talking about buying her a car when they returned to Oceanside.

The first time they shared a bed all night together, Terry awoke with a jolt several times in a fitful sleep, and had to feel for her in the dark to make sure she was still by his side. He cherished the first time he watched delicate rays of yellow morning light touch her face before she woke up.

Sometimes they kissed. Other times they spooned and luxuriated in the freedom to touch each other without a time limit. Nothing sexual took place. That wasn't important to him. She was still healing and their reconnection started with the mental, which was where their love began in the first place. Talking to each other and discovering the hidden layers. Each night became a fun slumber party, and they'd hide under the covers to whisper to each other, not wanting to wake the babies.

He made the mistake of buying Van-Van a children's book that had bells and whistles and little noise makers on each page to correspond with the story. The boy loved playing with it every day as Terry read to him, but seemingly it occurred at the most inopportune times when Nova tried to put Terrina to sleep. She hid the book in a drawer from her son who always asked Terry to read it to him. However that didn't work because Terry also liked playing with the book, and would amuse himself with it after Van-Van went to sleep. Nova literally had to pry it out of his hands at night to hide it from him, too.

"I swear, you're just as bad as Van-Van, making all that noise when you know Terrina is trying to sleep," she'd scold with a playful tone.

Nova took him to his first baby doctor appointment for Terrina. She was weighed and measured and the doctor was pleased with her progress. He watched his baby receive a fresh dose of vaccine shots for two-month-olds. He nearly started crying himself, listening to his daughter wail after her shots. Her trembling bottom lip covered her top one as tears spilled down her chubby cheeks while he cooed soft words of comfort. His love for her soared and he walked around feeling blessed.

Two weeks in, he called his friend Von and had a long talk with him about his new life. Von took it in stride, although there was a slight hint of disappointment that he hadn't confided in him about his struggles being in love with Nova. He also called his friend Angie over a video chat and she listened to him, flabbergasted, for an hour.

"You must tell your parents," Angie said.

"I want to surprise them for Christmas.'

"Your mother will have a fit if you deny her this time to know Terrina and Novan."

"It's only a couple of months."

"Trust me on this."

Nova walked in on him with the children at the hotel. She'd gone down to the courtyard to get some air and to let Van-Van explore.

"I told Angie about us…about Terrina," he said.

Nova handed him the baby, and Terry showed his firstborn to Angie.

"Oh…Terry…aw…she's so cute…listen, I'm hanging up. Make a zoom chat with your parents. They have to know about this before Christmas."

He glanced at Nova.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Nova released Van-Van's hand and sat down on the bed next to him.

"I agree with Angie."

"Hey, Nova. I'm happy for you both. I really am."

"Thank you."

"I'm jumping off this call. Contact your parents right now, T. Bye!"

He lifted Terrina into his arms and sniffed her dainty curls. They smelled like cocoa butter.

"We should do it now while it's still early…and I'm feeling brave," Nova said.

He carried the baby over to his laptop on the hotel desk and Nova dragged a wingback chair next to the roller one he plopped down in, holding Terrina. His entire body shivered and his mouth went dry. He always did video chats with his parents every two weeks, so it wouldn't be out of the blue contacting them. Nova rubbed his arm.

"Are you nervous too?" he asked.

"A little."

He glanced over at Van-Van, who happily played with two race cars Terry bought for him. His squeals of delight encouraged Terry to turn on the laptop. Nova held Terrina for him, freeing his hands to text his mother quickly. His mother, Tonette, responded three minutes later, asking him to wait five minutes so she could get his father from their backyard garden.

The time came, and he sent a link to his parents to jump on a call with him. His parent's faces popped up together, but on his half of the screen, he left up the avatar picture of himself in full marine regalia.

"We can't see you Jaybird," Tonette said.

"I'll turn on the camera in a minute mama, but I need to talk to you both about something important."

"They're finally shipping you out, aren't they?" Tonette asked.

His mother's pleasant face shifted into a concerned expression behind her glasses. The short micro-braided brown bob she sported gave her a youthful exuberance. The tone of his voice brought worry lines to both of his parent's foreheads. His father, Gordon, pressed his lips together, steadying himself for any news that could be bad. Terry noticed the sun's darkening of his light nutmeg-colored skin from spending days of his early retirement outdoors growing beans and squash. He'd recently trimmed his beard that had more gray in it.

"Is that why you couldn't come see us?" Gordon asked.

Terry took a deep breath and watched his avatar blink as he spoke.

"I had to take a trip to South Carolina to meet someone."

His mother clasped her hands together.

"You finally have a steady girlfriend? Is that it?"

Her face became animated.

"Um…it's a little more than that, mama. I did meet someone special. Three years ago. It's a bit complicated, but we've decided to be together. Her name is Nova."

"Nova…ooh that's so different. That's Latin for 'new', isn't it Dino?" Tonette said.

She nudged his father's arm, using her nickname for him.

His father's expression remained neutral. He could hear the stressors in Terry's voice.

"I'm going to bring her with me to Christmas."

Tonette's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, she's definitely special if you're bringing her home with you," Tonette joked. "Jaybird, is your camera not working?"

Terry glanced at Nova, and her eyes were bright, appreciating his mother's enthusiasm.

"Mama, Dad, when I come, I'm bringing you a very special Christmas gift, but I want to share it with you now."

"If it's special, save it for then," Tonette said.

Terry swallowed the lump in his throat. His father's face loomed on the screen next to his mother.

"I can't save my gift because she'll be a lot bigger by then, and I want you to see her now."

"See her?" Gordon asked.

Terry tapped the camera view on his end. He cradled Terrina in his lap with Nova pressed into his side.

His mother's mouth fell open.

"Nova and I had a baby. This is your first grandchild. Say hello to Terrina Octavia Richmond."

His mother burst into tears and nearly knocked her glasses off by holding her face in surprise. His father's eyes lit up so brightly that Terry could feel the warmth eight hundred miles away.

"Oh my, God…oh my God," Tonette murmured.

She peeked at Terrina with watery eyes. His father swelled with pride. Terrina babbled and cooed, her baby feet kicking his thighs.

"That's my grandbaby?" Tonette asked.

"She sure is, mama."

"She looks like you, oh Lord, she looks like me too!"

Tonette laughed and covered her mouth. She gazed at Nova.

"Hello, Nova...oh, I look a mess. Had I known this was a momentous occasion, I would've dressed up to meet my grandbaby!"

His mother sniffled and hid her face in Gordon's neck.

"Hi there, Terrina…I'm your grandpa…Grandpa Dino."

Nova wiped her eyes and looked at Terry. They both didn't want to go into how it all happened, but they had to. His mother calmed down, her face all blotchy and wet from the news.

"How come you didn't tell us?" Tonette asked.

"It's complicated, mama. Nova and I are dealing with something, and it's why I had to come to Charleston to get her and Terrina."

"What's going on?" Gordon asked.

Van-Van squealed and ran over to them, waving a toy truck around.

"You gave us two grandbabies and didn't tell us?" Tonette shouted with glee.

"Novan is my son from a previous relationship," Nova said, her voice quivering.

"We get to have two grandbabies for Christmas?!"

Tonette was over the moon.

"Van-Van, go play over there so we can talk, okay, baby?" Nova said.

"Hi Van-Van, it's your Grandpa Dino."

"Hi!" Van-Van shouted.

"He is so adorable," Tonette said.

"Mommy, come play with my doll."

"In a minute. Mommy has to talk some more, okay?"

"Talk to the people in the TV?"

Gordon chuckled, and Tonette beamed in her seat, so enamored with both children.

"How old are you, Novan?" Tonette asked.

Van-Van held up two fingers and then ran over to his bed. He played with all the cool toys in his new collection.

"Mama…Dad…Nova and I met three years ago in Oceanside. She was married to a soldier I trained and…well…he mistreated her. She and I fell in love while she was pregnant with Novan and then we parted when she wanted to make things work out with her husband."

"You're still married, Nova?" Gordon asked.

"I'm waiting for my divorce to go through. I gave birth to Terrina here, in Charleston, and didn't know she was Terry's until I saw her. We recently had a paternity test done and we're waiting for Terry's name to go on the new birth certificate."

"My goodness," Gordon said.

Terry's parents looked at each other with a wordless understanding. Terry cleared his throat.

"As soon as I get the paternity papers, I'm going to convert my accrued vacation leave into paternity leave so I can save all those other vacation days for another time. I get twelve weeks of paternity leave, and we want to spend that time with you in Cypress Bend. That way you can know the baby, Novan…and Nova."

Tonette burst into tears again and left her seat. Gordon nodded his head.

"You can stay for as long as you like. We can't wait to meet you, Nova," Gordon said.

Tonette returned with a tissue in her hand, sans glasses. She wiped her eyes and sat back down.

"Sorry y'all, I'm just overwhelmed. I can't believe all of this. I'm happy …overjoyed. I've been wanting this for so long…oh! Nova, I don't know if he told you…we've been waiting to have grandchildren for years. Dino is retired, and I work part-time now from home, so we have plenty of time and the energy to help with grandbabies, and none of our kids gave us any! I need pictures and video. I have to tell everyone and brag that I'm a grandma now!'

Tonette stared at Terrina. The baby seemed confused by the voices and faces staring at her.

"Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa," he said.

Terrina stared up at his face and gave him a happy smile. His parents watched him, and Terry let go of the anxious burden that sat in his chest from the start of the call. They accepted the situation.

"My baby had a baby," Tonette said, and wept again.

Their call lasted nearly three hours until Terrina had to nurse. Nova moved out of view of the camera to feed Terrina and Van-Van chatted with his parents for another twenty minutes until they ended the call.

Terry put Van-Van down for a nap, and Nova placed Terrina inside the portable crib he purchased when they first moved into the hotel. He cuddled with Nova on their bed. Relief shined in her face. His parents accepted her with open arms and no judgment.

"They are going to fall in love with you the way I did," he reassured her.

"I'm so happy they took to Van-Van well."

"Are you kidding? Did you hear my mother? She's already shopping on Amazon to order everything that little boy could ever want for Christmas. I bet she's going to have matching pajama sets for all of us when we get there."

"I can't wait to meet them in person."

His cell phone blew up with texts from his brother and sister. Even his favorite cousin Mike left a voicemail congratulating him. He shot off photos and videos of Terrina and Van-Van from his phone. Angie had been right. Telling his parents sooner would make their Christmas even sweeter together. Also, the truth about them as a couple was out in the open. Nova was excited about staying in Louisiana for a good chunk of time during the holidays. She looked so happy. All he could do was hold her tight.

Shelly-Anne filed the paperwork for the birth certificate.

Terry held the copy of the parternity results. He informed his commander that he'd already contacted Human Resources to claim his paternity leave, and spent most of his days organizing his personal affairs. He set up an allotment to Nova's bank account for the children and contacted his health insurance company to add them, too. Things were falling into place nicely.

He took a drive around town alone to enjoy the day while Nova spent the afternoon with her mother and Brielle shopping for clothes. He gave her money to buy herself some new things to spoil herself. By late afternoon, Nova texted about Jordan's suspension from his job for acting strange. His friend Charles sent him home. Terry had been ready to shoulder the responsibility of providing for Van-Van. Nova wanted to use his child support money as a monthly college deposit for her son. If Jordan's financial stability tanked already, he'd have to fine tune the budget he and Nova put together for their expenses. She had encouraged Terry to think about finishing college after he left the marines. He completed his junior year at Louisiana State University before dropping out to join Von in the military after Von lost his athletic scholarship because of a serious football injury. They both started acting a little wild and the marine discipline shaped them both right up.

Terry stopped at a bar & grill to eat a burger and have a beer before joining Nova and the kids. His mother kept texting him questions about Nova and her interests so she could find Christmas gifts for her. Nova loved to read, and he mentioned books. Since she picked Terrina's middle name after her favorite science fiction writer, Octavia E. Butler, he suggested a box set collection of Octavia E. Butler's Patternmaster series that he checked out online on Nova's public wishlist. Moments later, his mother sent him a jpeg of the book set she ordered for Nova. Terry tapped his front pants pocket. He had the perfect gift he planned on giving her.

An engagement ring.

He had to be slick trying to get her ring size without her knowing. While she slept, he snuck one of her everyday rings out of her small jewelry box she packed at the hotel. He took it to the best jeweler in town and chose an oval cut diamond ring with a 14K white-gold band. Taking the black velvet box out of his pocket, he set it on the bar table and peered at it again. He planned to do his big one by proposing to her properly on Christmas Eve when his entire family got together for caroling and eating oysters with champagne, a family tradition. He would use that time as a partial engagement party for them among his family and friends. Von and Bethany were going to be there for Christmas, and he would take that time to ask Von to be his best man for a future wedding after they settled in Oceanside. Maybe they could have a beach wedding with flag football. He grinned. In his mind, he could already see Nova running up to him in a puffy white wedding dress, snatching a flag from around his tuxedo as he tried to throw a football.

He pocketed the ring box and paid his tab. Wandering out to his truck, he had the sensation of being watched.

The parking lot was full of cars. He glanced back and forth, looking for other patrons. No one. He couldn't shake the feeling and moved with caution. Starting his truck, he didn't waste time glancing at his phone like he normally would to check-in with Nova. He backed out and drove onto the street, checking his rearview constantly. Going straight to Nova's parents had been the plan, but he opted to drive around to make sure he wasn't being followed by Jordan.

Merging onto a main highway that led to the suburbs, he noticed a dark, mid-sized sedan following him. He changed lanes twice and sped up, but the other vehicle filled the gap between them by at least three car lengths. Tinted windows didn't help him make out the driver, and the two-lane road had no other cars heading in their direction.

The other car sped up next to him and swerved to the right like it wanted to hit him, causing Terry to jerk the wheel and fly off the shoulder onto a grassy field. He braked hard before his truck hit a ditch and rolled. Startled, his eyes narrowed, and he shifted gears. He chased the car down, losing it on an off-ramp. He considered following, but didn't know the area well enough to trust that he wasn't being led to more trouble. Unable to confirm it was Jordan or some racist redneck trying to be funny, Terry continued to Nova's parents.

Outside the Easton home, Nova argued with four other adults alongside her parents. Terry pulled into the driveway and hopped out. He recognized an older woman as Jordan's mother, Boppie and Jordan's sister Michelle, along with their father, Maxwell. He guessed the other man harassing Nova and her parents was a brother. Jordan's mother was teary-eyed, but cursed a blue streak at Nova and Pauletta. Titus stayed in front of his wife as Jordan's father spewed angry words like his spouse. The Easton's returned the same fervor, blaming Jordan for everything.

Boppie spotted Terry and shouted, taking her purse and striking him in the face. Nova shoved the woman back.

"Don't you touch him!" Nova screamed.

Terry touched his lip. The purse emblem cut his lip. He bled a little and Pauletta charged Boppie, but Titus held his wife back. Michelle yelled at Nova.

"He has a right to see his son! So do we!" Michelle shrieked.

"How can you do this to Jordy, Nova? To us?" Boppie screeched.

Terry reached for Nova's arm and tried to pull her away, but she thrust herself in front of Jordan's relatives.

"Jordy is a fucking meth addict!" Nova screamed. "Stop treating him like a baby and demand that he act like a grown ass man for once and control his substance abuse! I'm leaving this place and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Terry let her get the emotions out. It felt terrible watching two close families go at each other, however he recognized the power it took for Nova to speak up for herself and her needs, no longer letting her ex's trials and tribulations stop her from moving on.

"I will never trust him with Van-Van! None of you!"

Boppie threw her head back and lashed at the sky, begging God to intervene. Maxwell glared at Titus.

"You'll let some stranger tear apart twenty-five years of friendship?" Maxwell said.

Titus walked up to his friend.

"Jordan needs help, Max. He's abusing that stuff. He abused my daughter's trust. Humiliated her as his wife. I watched him threaten to kill Terry with a gun!"

"Liar! He would never do something like that!" Boppie shrieked.

Maxwell wore bewilderment on his face.

"He had a gun?" Maxwell asked.

"He carried it in his hoodie," Titus said.

Nova stomped over to the Patterson's.

"I'm leaving this state. Jordy needs long-term help. Something is wrong with him and I won't let my son be around any of you in the future until you deal with that. Terry is the man I love…we're leaving soon and I don't want you coming to my parent's house like this ever again!"

The tone in her voice quieted everyone present.

A police car pulled up to the curb. The neighbor called for disturbing the peace. Terry glimpsed an older white man standing in his driveway across the street with a cordless phone, observing the entire confrontation.

"Let's go in," he said.

He ushered Nova and her mother inside the house while Titus dealt with the cops and the Patterson family. Nova shook with a feral rage in his arms.

"Can we leave here now?" she begged him.

"We'll head out Wednesday. I'll reserve the U-Haul tonight," he said.

The cops gave Titus a warning, and it took a long time to calm Nova down. She wanted to fight everybody. Pauletta wept about them leaving, but nothing would change their minds. Nova tended to his cut lip, and he kept his mouth shut about being run off the road. They were leaving Charleston. That's all that mattered.

Within two days, they had a U-Haul cargo trailer ready to hitch on his truck in Mawmaw's driveway. Nova packed everything she owned inside of it. She carried purpose and determination on her face, and he loved her more for it.

He spent a brisk fall Tuesday morning making a final payment to his lawyer for her work and bought Nova a bouquet of sugary pink roses just because. Under different circumstances, Charleston might've been a cool place to vacation and spend more time in, but the Patterson family soured every inch of the low country for Terry. His mind stayed on spending Thanksgiving and Christmas with his family in Cypress Bend.

"Comeya, follow me," Mawmaw said, after a hearty lunch.

She had cooked Nova and Terry fried fish and Charleston red rice with a side of thick okra soup, and he suspected it was an attempt to keep them there longer by stuffing him with delicious food. He followed her into the front room.

"Take it down," she said.

She pointed to the painting above the mantel. He lifted the heavy frame from the thick hook in the wall.

"Dat is my gift to una… and Nova. Parta we go with the chirren. Hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Nella and Nova wrapped the painting in a blanket and he secured it carefully under the truck bed covering he kept locked. Mawmaw also handed him a small sweetgrass basket she made.

"I put Carolina Gold Rice in dere. Nova cook up some red rice for oonah family," Mawmaw said.

Uncle Pete arrived and picked Mawmaw up. She didn't want to be around when they left in the morning, and gave long hugs and kisses to Van-Van, Terrina, and Nova. Before climbing into Pete's Escalade, she moved away from her walker and hugged Terry. Whatever litany of exaggerations she may have formed in her mind about him when he first arrived had dissipated. He was family now.

"Take care of Nova and dem chirren, hear?" she whispered in his ear.

"I promise, Mawmaw," he said.

He released her frail body that encased an inner strength. Nella patted his back.

"She'll be okay. You showed yourself to be an honorable man to Nova. She knows you love them kids fierce, too," Nella said.

He went to gas up the truck and picked up snacks for the road at around two-thirty. Edisto Island looked glorious in the early fall, and he took himself to the beach to gaze at the eastern shore one more time before they departed for good. He kicked off his shoes and socks and dipped his toes in, letting the Atlantic Ocean chill rejuvenate his tired feet. Lifting and packing things for Nova, while also running around playing with Van-Van, had his dogs howling. He plopped his backside on the sand with the tall sea oat plants against his back and surveyed the horizon where the sky touched the impossibly green ocean.

He closed his eyes and let the ocean breeze kiss his eyelids.

"God…thank you. Thank you for bringing Nova into my life with Van-Van. Thank you for allowing us to have Terrina. Please watch over us as we make this journey to my family in Louisiana. Grant me the strength and fortitude to be the best man and father I can be for Nova…"

He listened to the sound of the surf and the squawk of a seabird after he finished his prayer. The sharp scent of the ocean refreshed him, and he took a deep inhale. Opening his eyes again, he stood and wandered slowly back to his truck as the shadows of early evening enveloped him.

At Mawmaw's, he pulled his truck into the driveway. He'd connect to the U-Haul trailer in the morning. Craning his head to look up at the house, he noticed the front room lights weren't on. He guessed Nova went to bed early to rest with the children. Nella's car was on the street and she was probably watching her shows in her room. He clicked his key fob, locking the truck. Stretching his arms, he knew Terrina would be antsy to eat. He hoped there was a bottle in the fridge he could heat so that Nova could rest. Another strong breeze blew across his face.

Heading for the stairs, the sound of glass breaking steered him toward the carport. Shattered pieces of blue bottle glass sat under the bottle tree. A gust of wind shook a branch so hard that another bottle fell and broke, glass fragments shooting toward the cement driveway.

The back of the U-Haul trailer caught his eye.

It was partially open.

He lifted the handle to check if anything had been stolen. Nope. The trailer remained packed to the gills. He slammed the roll-up door back down and locked it with the key still stuck inside the lock. That's when he glimpsed something shiny jammed against the right back tire and picked it up. Nova's cell phone with a shattered screen. He glanced around the rest of the driveway, using a flashlight app on his smartphone. Drops of blood led to the edge of the property where he found Nella crumpled in a heap.

"Nella!"

Terry dropped to his knees and touched her neck. She was alive, just knocked out cold.

"Nella…Nella…"

Nella moaned with groggy energy. She came to and stared at Terry with unfocused eyes.

"Jordon…" she mumbled.

"Jordon did this to you?"

She nodded and grabbed his arm.

"He walked up on us. Nova tried to call the police…he knocked her phone out of her hand and grabbed Van-Van. He…pulled out a gun…she was holding Terrina, and he threatened her…ordered her to get in his car. I tried to stop him, and he… hit me with the gun. He took them. "

"How long ago did he take them?"

Nella sat up and touched the back of her head where she bled.

"Maybe thirty…forty minutes ago."

Terry quelled the panic rising in his chest.

"Is there any place you can think of where he would take them other than his family members?"

Nella shook her head.

"Tell me exactly what he said."

"He told Nova she would never leave him. Her or the babies. She pleaded for him to let the children go and just take her, but he wanted them all. Terry…he had this look in his eyes about Terrina. He said she was the reason their family broke up…I think he's going to do something to her to get back at you."

"I need you to wait on calling the police, okay? Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

Nella stood on wobbly legs. He tried calling Jordan's number and heard a ringing sound out near the street. Holding his cell to his ear, he followed the rings and found Jordan's phone near the curb.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

Nella glanced at Nova's phone in his hand and snapped her fingers.

"Wait…wait! Nova's Airtags!" Nella shouted.

She snatched Nova's phone from his hand. The touchscreen still worked.

"She put one in Terrina's car seat. Van-Van should have one stuck in his little zipper pocket on his jeans. She started putting them on the kids as a precaution when she dropped them off at Boppie's house, in case she let Jordan take them somewhere without being watched. She stopped letting them see Terrina, but probably left the tags on them."

Nella swiped the phone and found the Airtag app on Nova's phone.

"See, there they are! They're still on the island."

Terry shook his hands with enthused encouragement and kissed Nella on the forehead.

"Thank you, thank you!"

He grabbed Nova's phone and ran to his truck. The Airtag stopped near an area by the Edisto River. He held the phone up to Nella's face.

"Is there any place by the river that Jordan would possibly go?"

"He never lived here year round, but his family spent summers with us on special occasions."

Precious time ticked on.

"Think, Nella…think!"

Nella's eyes watered, and her lips poked out in concentration.

"The Edisto River…our families used to go fishing there. I never went because I don't like to fish or camp out. They'd rent a treehouse cabin."

"Call Titus or Pauletta and ask them where, and call me on my phone afterward! Do not tell them what's happening or they'll call the police and make things worse. Jordan is dangerous, and he's also a trained sniper."

Terry tore off in his truck and stuck Nova's phone in the holder attached to his dash. He followed Terrina's Airtag timestamps on the phone. Thank God there were other Apple devices nearby to help track the data.

His cell rang. Nella.

"Terry, Titus said they used to rent the cabins at a place called The Edisto Treehouse Retreat. They usually stayed close by the river to launch their paddle boats."

"Got it, I'm headed there. Give me an hour's head start before you call the cops."

He pulled over to switch his phone onto the dash so he could save the battery life of Nova's phone. Punching in the name of the rental cabins, he jetted there on a wing and a prayer. Jordan sought seclusion and privacy. The river was a good place to hold Nova and the children captive without attracting attention.

Since he was only thirty to forty minutes behind Jordan, he prayed to reach them before anything turned grave. He ventured into the more natural parts of Edisto and worried about losing a signal out in the wild. The temperature had dropped, too. Nova had worn a long sleeve shirt and a jean skirt. Terrina only had on a pink cotton onesie and Van-Van wore little jeans and a T-shirt.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid, Jordan," Terry mumbled to himself.

Part 2 of Lick Back 2 HERE.

A.N.:

The painting used in the story was made by the Gullah artist Sonja Griffan Evans. You can find her work at:

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[ldrloversblog]

In defence of Vivziepop and the women of HB

I’ve been seeing a lot of people criticising and bashing Vivienne for the way she writes her female characters compared to her male characters and to an extent fans and the antis are correct and their criticism is valid but it’s reached to a point that the fans and the antis are being more misogynistic than the person the claim to be a misogynist (Viv).

They are always blabbering about how she can’t write a woman who isn’t mean, evil, emotional and has no depth or a sad backstory. I believe that most of the times people forget that Viv is not the sole writer of the show, yes she is the creator but she is not the only one in the writing room she is not the only one who has control over the story and the characters there is whole team involved.

“But all her female characters are mean without reason”. Wrong there are reasons why they are the way they are.

Verosika is the way she is because of Blitz. In AT we learned that when she finally mustered up the courage to confess her love for the person that was her boyfriend and presumed bodyguard at the time (since she is a pop star) left her in the middle of the night without an explanation and stole her credit card which he maxed out on horse riding lessons. Ver isn’t a bad person just because, she is that way cause of heartbreak, hurt and betrayal. She even had his name tattooed on her arm that’s how committed she was.

Barbie Wire, a child with an abusive father turned to addiction and alcohol and we know that she still keeps on using because of a freak accident that killed her mother, burned the circus, left her and Blitz’s best friend disabled for life and scars than can never be healed.

Loona an abandoned child that grew up in the orphanage and every time she got adopted she got turned back due to her temper and problematic teenage behaviour. Of course someone who was never wanted as a child and treated nicely isn’t gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. Despite all that Loona has come a huge way from being the always mad, defensive and socially awkward hellhound we met in ep.1.

Octavia, one of the most if not mischaracterised and wrongly hated character of the show. The first time Octavia is shown to us she is a child that has a terrible nightmare where she can’t find her father anywhere. From that alone we can understand that Octavia is someone who’s afraid of being abandoned by the only person that she can find comfort in. Her parents constantly scream at each other and most of the time ignore her (whether it’s intentional or are too wrapped up in their own problems and goals) and never try to communicate with her properly or explain the whole situation. She is not a spoiled little princess who’s always broody and “emo” and annoying just to be, she is 17 a very vulnerable age at which she needs the two people that are supposed to take care of her in the world the most but she doesn’t and she feels that she never had them cause she never mattered, the only thing that mattered were their petty fights and duties. Via is allowed to feel hurt by her parents actions and lack of care and is right to confront them for their shitty behaviour towards her her whole life. She needs time to process what’s going on and come to terms with her own emotions and situation. If she doesn’t want to hear what Stolas has to say right now then that’s the right thing for her to do now. The love and trust she has for him is so strained and it’s gonna be a while before he can make up for his mistakes.

Stella is another character that the fans and antis complain that is evil (or cartoonishly evil which is boring as they’ve said after the last episode) because Viv has always to make her women unlikeable and stupid. Stella and Stolas were forced into the same fate without their consent at the age of 10 and have been miserable ever since. I like Stella I’m not gonna lie she is not the best written villain and we don’t know why she is the way she is but what we know is that she really hates and resents her husband and doesn’t really care for her child unless it’s to manipulate her against her father. Cartoonishly evil or not, she is entertainingly stupidly evil for someone driven by her hate and big ego, a narcissist that’s always right and above everyone else but what she doesn’t understand is that her brother is holding the strings and plays her like a puppet so he can do his own bidding in the disguise of getting rid of her husband. Sometimes villains don’t need to have a heart wrenching backstory, someone or something that made them evil some people are just evil either by them themselves or their environment. There are 2 more seasons left of HB im sure that the writers sooner or later will give us a good explanation as to why Stella hates Stolas so much and wants him out the way.

Millie a Wrathian who thought that she was good for nothing but killing people and being “the muscle”. Millie (as seen in GF) worked by herself taking jobs to survive and make a living until she met I.M.P and became a part of a team, a family that taught her that she is more that just a machine to kill people and is now the best version of her self. Married, happy with her career choices and I can’t wait to see how s3 will handle the unplanned pregnancy plot because there are a lot of things on stake here.

Why do we as fandom always have to demonise women for the smallest things and baby men for the horrible and wrong things they do and have done to others? Why don’t you give the same energy to Paimon, Cash and Crimson? Neglectful and abusive fathers? Striker? Who preaches about how royals are the worst thing to happen to imp kind but the moment he is paid by a royal to betray one of his own he’s quick to take it and run? Blitz? Who until recently never apologised for the bad things he did and ruined so many people’s life’s? Stolas? Neglects his own child in favour of his lover and stuck in his own foolish fantasies in the process losing whatever little faith Octavia had in him, obliviousness to see past his nose and his (not purposefully) prejudices?

[helluverse-rewrites]

Random tidbits/headcanons

I mostly just made this because I think there's some things I forgot to put in the other posts so here you go Ig

Starting off with a big one, Millie proposed to Moxxie using sign language

Millie often translates for Moxxie when he's talking to others

Moxxie won't admit this, but it really means a lot to him when someone learns sign language for him. He grew in a place that told him that no one would learn such a thing just for a worthless, waste of space like him. So it contradicts what his father said to him when someone at least puts in the effort and tries

Not only is Sallie May trans, Millie now also has a trans brother

Verosika would probably listen to boyfriend asmr for shits and giggles

Asmodeus hates alpha male podcasters

In my rewrite, Moxxie is more apathetic than in canon, so the conflict in Murder Family is different. That's all I'm gonna say

Stella is the living embodiment of "I'm not just a regular mom, I'm a ✨cool mom✨"

Fizz has a shit tone of medical trauma

Octavia has crippling abandonment issues

^ this is because Stolas would constantly tell her as a kid when she would be crying "Cut this nonsense out or else I'm leaving you. For good." Stolas would also say he'd take Stella with her. So basically she thought that if she cried as a child, her parents would leave her

^ this is why she's so quiet and pretends she doesn't care about anything. She learned that everyone will leave her if she shows any emotion

Yeah she doesn't like to cry in front of people anymore (Stella is completely unaware of this btw)

She just bottles everything up in general

Stella will just accept anytime Stolas or Andrealphus yells or threatens her, but she'll attack you if you mention her daughter

After some character development, Fizz would be good friends with Moxxie I feel

^ They would play a game where they would see how much random shit they could say in sign language before people start to catch on how much they're bullshitting. They would be saying the word 'watermelon' over and over again. Everyone is confused while Millie and Asmodeus are laughing their asses off

If M&M were to have kids, they would definitely go for adoption (COUGHSINSMASCOUGH) also because Moxxie is trans so they wouldn't be able to have children biologically

^ also they're broke so they need more money before they even consider that

Millie often worries about Moxxie when she's not there to translate his sign language. It's not that she doesn't think he can handle himself, Moxxie has been surviving on his own for a long time before he met Millie. It's just that he has a tendency to force himself to talk when no one can understand what he's saying, and Millie knows it hurts and exhausts him

Millie's family adores Moxxie. I hate the trope of dad disapproves of daughter's boyfriend. It's just pretty annoying and oftentimes the boyfriend is the sweetest guy ever

Her family is the most accepting family in the Wrath Ring and upon first meeting them, Moxxie was certain they hated him

That was literally the opposite though, they even helped Millie set up the proposal. They just wanted Moxxie to be their in-law so bad

Striker is kind of an older brother figure to Millie, he used to have playdates with her when they were little

Stolas is the most powerful Goetia, which is something he brags about constantly

Asmodeus is a huge fucking nerd and loves reading

Moxxie and Blitzø constantly steals Millie's fidget toys for fun

Dw Millie thinks it's funny

That's all I can think about for now! If I think of anymore I'll do a part two

[bibibbon]

Now it's not about one of my wips. So ...I stumble a post here talking how Dabi was this close to became a Nomu, how dabi knows what Nomu are (maybe he is not well versed but it's not out of pocket he would know what is a Nomu) and ...how he may know how afo doesn't give a shit about shig(the last one is just common sense) and it makes me think...

Dabi has so many reasons to hate shig. Shig who gives nomus uncaring and willy nilly and use them as a weapon ...could make dabi think of endy (oooh no one would ever think that, but think this way Toya is a toy/project Endy created and tossed aside...shig does the same with the nomus)

I love them as frenemies....but Dabi has legit reasons to not like Shig...and I dont even think, in shipping sense, a hate sex situation would cut out.

If dabi wasn't suicidal...I think he could steal shig's position, kick him to the curb and...maybe killing the remain nomus as a mercy killing ( the last one is just an idea. Dabi is a villain, but before hori made him "the lil devil" to justify Endy...I think it was possible for him...to do that)

So ...imagine an au where Dabi does that. Shiga lost everything, and Dabi wins bc he is smarter.

This is not motivated by any bashing feelings. I like shig but possum doesn't give a shit to nomus, Kuro or anything else...he is a npc ...so maybe if he had to struggle and pull himself on his feet, without any plot device ...maybe the character could grow.

Hi @mikeellee 👋

It is true that dabi was incredibly close to becoming a nomu, considering that AFO literally retrieved his dying body and put him in one of the controlled hospitals where they kept kids there to turn them into another shigaraki puppet or a nomu.

From what we get in chapter 350 from Dr garaki, I don't think Dabi fully knew the inner workings of how Nomu's are made but I do think that he knew that Nomu's were once humans that were experimented on. Personally, I believe that the first time Dabi heard about Nomu's was probably rumours from the street of people commenting on how the ruler of the underground has created living puppets.

Dr garaki admits that Dabi by the time he left the hospital knew more than he let on, he knew what the hospital was for, knew what the hospital meant what they were selling to him, what they wanted to make him become and he rejected that. I believe that a part of him rejected that because he wanted to go back, he wanted to prove that touya is indeed alive, he wanted to reach for his family's embrace, to apologise to his mother, to earn validation from his father yet all of that crumbles the minute he sees what enji is doing to shoto. Touya dies, and dabi is born living only through sheer hate and determination for revenge.

Ultimately, I believe that the moment dabi meets Dr. garaki a second time, he is now fully aware of the origins of the nomu and has completely understood and solved the hospital case. He realises that everything is connected and he hates it.

By extension, he would hate shigaraki or completely dislike him for his ignorance. After a while he would also figure out that shigaraki is just a pawn in the grand scheme of things and I think (due to dabi's already toxic beliefs like victim blaming) he would grow to hate shigaraki even more. However, I do imagine that other emotions would grow something akin to pity as he sees shigaraki trying to break out of the mould just to fully fall into AFO's trap. Maybe dabi grows to hold a tiny ounce of care, trying to indirectly deter shigaraki from doom, but again, that's neither here nor there.

Also, I agree heavily with you that if Dabi wasn't suicidal then he would probably rebel on a larger scale, taking over and becoming a new leader. However, dabi is a man full of hate. That's the only reason he is alive. He is a man out of time, a man who is slowly dying with one goal in mind : revenge.

[fandomgirlz01]

The Most Perfect Christmas Ever

JJ Maybank X Routledge Reader

Imagine on fandom instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: Yes: (1) "Cute Christmas socks." (2) "Are you going to stay out there in the cold all night?" (3) "Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up." (4) "Is that my scarf?" (5) "Be careful you’re clumsy and it’s really slippery out here." (6) "Ah. The ground is so slippy.!” (7) "Call me elf one more time!" (8) "Chaos has come again." (9) "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone." (10) "Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up." (11) "Everything I want I can’t have." (12) "Here. Let me pick you up so you can reach the top of the Christmas tree." (13) "How long ago did (Character) fall asleep?" (14) "I believe the Abominable Snowman may be real. I think there may be something in that." (15) "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

Style of Writing: Single Fic 

Rating: PG ~ For all the fluff and cuteness, but a few adult comments…

Edited: Not edited so it may change around later guys. 

Word count: 6,717 

Post Date & Time: December 25th 2024 at 1:45 AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here 

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}.

Summary: You, your brother John B and JJ (Jackson Jessy "Maybank" Groff) spend another Christmas together, your first Christmas without your father after he’d gone missing. This Christmas however is different than all the others that the three of you have spent together. 

Authors Note: I got these amazing prompts from a fellow writers page @bonniebird Bonnie is an inspiration to me as well as an amazing writer and artist. I did change some of them up so they fit the story better, but I did try to keep them pretty close to the original prompts. Anyway, Bonnie’s work never fails to make me smile and feel all the feelings that I should when reading. I WISH I could write as amazingly as she does, but I’m nowhere near her level yet, I hope and pray that one day I will be. Ladies and gentlemen please go give her love and support because she really deserves it. She’s one of my many inspirations and I’m so so happy to use her prompts because they really pushed me to write this fic even though I was blocked for all of my other works. I feel like it helped me break out of it, so THANK YOU Bonnie for everything 🩵🩵🩵

Also this is our first JJ Maybank fic. We have so much coming out for JJ he will eventually be added into our main people we write for so be on the look out for when we add that in. We both hope you guys enjoy this one. 🩵

You hum softly to yourself along with the Christmas music you have playing as you lay out the decorations. Every Christmas, you, John B, your dad, and JJ would enjoy Christmas together. When you were growing up and found out what JJ’s dad did to him (you didn’t tell them of course, because that’s JJ’s place to tell people about it), you begged for JJ to start spending the holidays with you. Ever since that very first time they agreed, he’s always come over. It’s always been your absolute favorite time of year. How could it not be? When you have JJ and John B around you, your two favorite people? This year is different though, because it’s the first Christmas without your father since he had disappeared only a few months ago now. 

“Hey. Wow. You’ve really got everything ready,” John B comments in shock as he looks at everything you’ve laid out so far. 

“It’s Christmas, JB, of course I’ve got everything ready. Don’t I always?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him and shrugging. 

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve and we’re only now decorating…” you shake your head and he chuckles. 

“I know normally you have it all started the last week of November,” he comments, amusement clear in his tone. 

“I know right! I’m so behind. This year has been a lot… it’s been one stressful year…” you mutter out with a roll of your eyes and he again hums in amusement as you bite your lip. 

“Hey. I get it. It definitely has been wild,” John B agrees and you sigh. 

“It’s just… it’s the first one without dad. We should still celebrate, be happy to still all be together right?” You ask, unsure of your own words. 

“Of course, bug. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it,” he tells you as he stops you for a moment to pull you into a hug. 

“Plus, I’ll have my two favorite guys with me. I’m happy and I refuse to not be happy during my favorite time of year,” you push away from the hug as you ramble while continuing to lay stuff out, not bothering to spare a look at your brother. 

“Hey. I get it. I do. No need to preach it to me, bug,” he reverently tells you, giving you a small shrug. 

You continue to lay ornaments and many other decorations out on the table. You step back to look at your handiwork, proud of how it looks. You get pulled out of your thoughts when your brother laughs, making you look at him instead. 

“What?” You ask him, eyebrow propped and he points down at your feet. 

"Cute Christmas socks," he tells you though chuckles and you look down at them, pushing up onto your toes. 

“Oh, really? Good, I got both you and JJ a pair of your own,” you inform him with a giant grin and his face falls. 

“There’s no way JJ will be wearing those…” he tells you and you giggle. 

“Who says! They’re cute!” You cry out and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Sorry to tell ya, bee, JJ doesn’t do cute,” he tells you with humor lacing his tone. 

“Fine. You’ll wear them though, right?” You ask, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“Not a chance. Puppy eyes don’t work on me anymore, bee,” he tells you and you smirk even though he’s not looking at you. 

“Really? Then why won’t you look at me, huh?” You teasingly ask and he huffs. 

“No reason. No reason at all. Speaking of your two favorite people, where's the other?” John B asks with a hint of humor, changing the subject as he picks up an ornament to look at before carefully setting it back down. 

“Actually, he was supposed to be here about thirty minutes ago…” you comment as you finally look up at the clock. 

“Don’t worry, bug. It’s JJ, I’m sure he’s just running late,” John B tries to comfort you, but you shake your head, rushing over to start putting your jacket on. 

“Exactly. It’s JJ. He’s never late this time of year. He loves having Christmas with us,” you comment as you shove your feet into your shoes. 

“Bug? What are you doing?” John B rushes over to you and you shrug as you stand while zipping up your jacket. 

“I’m going to look for him. What if he needs us?” You counter as you wrap a scarf around your neck and John B sighs. 

“I’m coming with you then,” he informs you as he grabs his own jacket. 

You give him a look of exasperation before shaking your head once more. You pull the door open before starting down the porch, but John B pulls you to a stop. You go to yell at him, but he raises his hands in surrender before pointing over at something and you turn to look where he's pointing. You see JJ sitting curled up on the dock and you sigh in relief. 

“You go talk to him. I’ll finish setting up, okay?” John B offers and you smile softly at him. 

“Don’t you wanna go over?” You ask, popping an eyebrow at him and he pauses with lips pursed in thought. 

“No. It looks more like a you and him moment,” John B answers with a small soft smile. 

“Okay. If you’re sure, birdy,” you tell him, giving a side eye to see if he changes his mind. 

When he doesn’t show any signs of changing his mind, you firmly nod at him before starting to walk over to JJ as John B heads back inside. It’s a cold night so you bring your cupped hands up to your mouth and breathe into them, hoping to warm yourself up a little. Once your hands have warmed up, you move them under your armpits, trying to keep them that way as you move closer and closer to JJ. 

“Jayj…” you call out softly and you can see your breath in the air. 

“Hi, cupcake…” he mutters, not looking at you which makes you frown. 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” You ask as you sit next to him, your feet dangling over the side of the dock. 

“JJ, talk to me…” you mutter out when he doesn’t answer and you move to cuddle into his side, but he uses his shoulder to shove you off, still keeping his face out of view. 

“JJ. Seriously, what is wrong?” You ask as you grab his shoulder, trying to pull him to look at you even though you have an opinion on what’s going on. 

“Just leave me alone cupcake. Please?” He practically begs, still turned away from you and you frown even harder. 

“Jayj, please…” you whisper out to him once again and he sighs, finally turning to you not liking the hurt sound of your voice. 

“Oh, JJ…” you gasp when you see his face full of black and blue bruises, you had a thought that’s it be about his dad, but you had no clue it’d be this bad. 

“See, that’s why…” he mutters, looking away from you once more. 

“I don’t want you pitying me again… you do it far too often,” he mutters after you haven’t said anything.

“I don’t pity you, JJ. If anything I think it makes you incredibly strong…” you tell him with a firmness to your tone and he feels himself getting choked up. 

“Yeah… whatever…” he responds, not believing you as he shoves you off again. 

“I’m really sorry, JJ…” you mutter softly, not knowing what else to say to get him to believe you. You frown with a shake of your head as tears well up in your eyes.  

“What do you have to be sorry for? You didn’t do this…” JJ asks as he still refuses to look at you and you reach out for him again. 

“I’m sorry you have to go through this. I’m sorry you got dealt such a bad hand in life. I wish… I wish I could force Luke to see you. To actually see you,” you explain as you're finally able to pull him to look at you. He wishes he could wipe your frown off but only smiles softly at you. 

“It’s not so bad. I’ve got you and John B. It could be worse I guess,” he tells you with a shrug as he looks away again and out to the water. 

“I mean, you are right. Having us is pretty awesome,” you agree playfully, bouncing your eyebrows and he chuckles to himself, shaking his head. You smile, seeing his tough exterior finally starting to break down.

“It really is,” he softly agrees as he still looks out over the water and you hold back a sigh. 

“Well, are you going to stay out here in the cold all night and stew in what happened? Or are you going to come in and have fun with your favorite person?” You goad him while nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Oh, John B’s my favorite person now, huh?” he playfully asks, his own lips forming a bit bigger of a smirk now and you gasp. 

“Umm, no. I was actually talking about myself,” you respond with a deadpan look that makes him smile even more as he laughs, shaking his head. 

“What makes you think you’re my favorite person?” he asks you, all smiles now and you can’t help but smile alongside him. 

“It made you smile, didn’t it?” You answer him with a shrug and he’s shaking his head in disbelief again. 

“Yeah… yeah. It did,” he chuckles, continuing to smile softly at you.

"Well come on, then, let's get inside. We have a tree to decorate still and many other Christmas festivities,” you tell him with a beaming smile as you go to get up, but he reaches out and stops you. 

“Can we maybe just stay here for a moment more?” he mutters out and you blink at him for a moment.

“Yeah, of course, Jayj…” you softly tell him and he smiles a small smile at you. 

The two of you sit in silence for a little while before JJ, who's not wearing a coat, starts to shake a little bit."Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up," You tell him as you hold your coat open to him. 

“Thanks, cupcake,” he mutters as he slides in under your arm and you smile warmly at him. 

“Of course, Jayj. It’s us against the world,” you whisper to him as you bring your pinky up and he smiles again before bringing his up as well, wrapping it around yours. 

“Us against the world, cupcake,” he agrees and you sigh, laying your head against his that now lays on your shoulder. 

“Hey, is this my scarf?” he asks after a while of silence as he lifts one of the sides of the scarf up. 

“Umm. Yeah, I think it’s the one you left here last year. I found it in my winter clothes. You can have it back if you want,” you answer with your cheeks burning hot and you try to hide your face. 

“Nah. Keep it. It’s a better fit on you than me,” he tells you softly and again you can’t help but blush. 

He says nothing else after that, just cuddles back into your shoulder and you squeeze his shoulder. The two of you stay sitting there, cuddling while looking out over the water in silence and just enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Hey, tweedledee and tweedledum, are you two going to stay out there all night and make me decorate alone? Or are you going to come be of some help?”John B calls out for the two of you from the edge of the dock and you both roll your eyes. 

“Well, you ready to go in?” You ask him and he smiles at you before nodding. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agrees before pulling away and the two of you start to stand. 

"Be careful cupcake, you’re clumsy and it’s really slippery out here,” JJ tells you as he stands up and you cross your arms. 

“I’m not that clumsy!” You fight back and he hums in amusement. 

“Okay. I’ll believe that when you're not tripping over thin air,” he jokes back with a smirk and you scowl at him. 

“Whatever…” you tell him as you roll your eyes before turning and taking a step to head back to the house. 

You let out a small gasp as you start to fall back, but JJ, knowing you well, was already reacting and quickly pulling you back up. You stare at him in shock for a moment before you slowly start to smile, making him smile too. 

"You were right. The ground really is so slippery,” You joke, eyes wide in shock and he playfully rolls his eyes at you. 

“Never change, cupcake. You’re truly one of a kind,” JJ tells you with a grin that’s utterly infectious. 

“Only if you promise never to change yourself, Jayj. You’re one of a kind too,” you request and he nods in agreement. 

You both stare at one another for a moment, your eyes staring into the blue pools that are his eyes that you’ve come to love so much over the years and you have a burning need to kiss him. You can feel his heart going what seems to be a mile a minute as he watches your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his eyes, his eyes doing the same. He squeezes your waist gently with a million thoughts of how your lips might taste flying though his mind and he wishes he could just kiss the adorable frown off your face, but he knows he can’t, making him frown too. You frown even deeper before opening your mouth to ask him why he’s frowning, but before you get the chance, you get cut off. 

“Hey! Would you two stop making eyes at each other and come help me decorate!” John B calls out again, interrupting the moment and you almost groan. 

“Thanks for catching me, Jayj,” you whisper out and something flashes through his eyes for a moment, an emotion you can’t quite decipher before he grins again letting you go. 

“I’ll always catch you, cupcake,” he promises with a light smile before the two of you start to walk over to John B. 

You slip a little bit once more, but you reach out and grab onto JJ’s arm. He looks down at you and chuckles as you cling to him like a koala bear, making him chuckle. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you to the end of the dock safely,” he promises with a laugh as he laces his fingers through yours and continues to walk over to John B. 

"Chaos has come again, man!” JJ announces as you and he walk into the château before he’s letting go of you to walk over to John B. 

“Don’t think that’s a good thing man,” John B deadpans and you fight to hold back a giggle as JJ pulls back from the guy hug the share looking offended. 

“Fine then, I take it back. You’re definitely not my favorite person. It’s cupcake,” JJ says as he pulls you into him from behind. 

“Oh so now I’m your favorite,” you ask, crossing your arms and giving a faux annoyed look. 

“Let’s be completely honest bee, I think you always have been even when he lies outta his butt and says you aren't,” John B comments with a roll of his eyes as he picks up an ornament and hangs it on the tree. 

“It’s disgusting sometimes really,” John B continues with a fake gag as he hangs the ornament up on the tree. 

“Ohh. I wanna do the Angel!” You happily call out clapping your hands and John B chuckles. 

“Don’t you always do it? This year’s no different, Bee. It’s your one job,” John B comments in amusement making you pout. 

“It’s not my only job! I have others,” you fight back and JJ chuckles, slinging his arm around your shoulder. 

“Yeah, JB her other jobs lookin pretty,” JJ comments as he hugs you into his side and you fight a blush as you groan pushing him away. 

“I extremely dislike both of you,” you comment, crossing your arms with a look of dismay falling on your face and they both grin. 

“That’s not true. You LOVE us,” both of them singsong to you and you uncross your arms shaking your head. 

“Okay maybe I do, but let’s get this show on the road,” you finally cave and agree with them before walking over to start decorating the tree some more. 

“Okay miss head elf,” JJ jokes with a roll of his eyes and John B laughs. 

“Oh that’s a good one Jayj. She really is a snappy head elf this time of year isn’t she?” John B agrees before pushing the joke a little further and you pause crossing your arms. 

"Call me elf one more time!" You seeth out through clenched teeth and they share a look. 

“Awe come on elffie. It’s a cute Christmas nickname that’s all. Plus you're the perfect height for it,” JJ tells you again, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he squeezes you affectionately and you huff, shaking your head. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get decorating already…” you tell them in annoyance and JJ snickers along with John B. 

Together you, JJ and John B all dance around and decorate making you completely forget about everything that’s been going on the past few months. For a moment it’s just you and your two favorite people living happily with nothing and nobody to take it away from you. You’d give anything to live every single day like this. You walk away still laughing at something JJ had said and walk back in with the scissors. You stop and fondly watch as John B and JJ fight over who gets to put an ornament on a certain branch. Blue Christmas by Elvis starts to play and without realizing it you start to cry. 

“You okay there cupcake?” JJ asks as he turns around to see you crying and worry flows through him. 

“I’m okay Jayj…” you tell him softly with a gentle smile on your face as you set the scissors on the table. 

“Then why the tears?” John B asks and you giggle wiping at your eyes. 

“I just wish we could all live like this everyday. Just us three having the times of our lives with nothing to worry about,” you start pausing to catch your breath a little bit and to sniffle. 

“Both Kie and Pope have their parents. I’m happy to just have you two,” you explain more tears welling up in your eyes and JJ clicks his tongue coming over to give you a hug. 

“I’m happy we have each other too, Bee, but unfortunately we can’t have it everyday. There’s always going to be good and bad days,” John B agrees with you as he to comes over to hug you. 

“I know, I just wish it could be that way,” you sigh out and JJ squeezes you once more. 

“I think we all do, cupcake. Let’s just try to live in this moment then yeah? Enjoy the time we have?” He asks and you grin up at him. 

“Yeah, okay,” you agree and he smiles happy to see you back to your happy go lucky self. 

You gasp as the song’s lyrics perfectly fit the moment. “But I’ll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas without you,” you sing along to Elvis as you sway and JJ shakes his head, but smiles as he watches you enjoy the music. 

“Perfect timing, much?” He jokes propping an eyebrow making both you and John B burst out laughing. 

“Yeah… definitely don’t quit your day job bug,” John B jokes and you shrug seemingly unfazed by his playful insult. 

“And what day job would that be birdy? Hunting for gold?” You playfully ask back, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“Okay. Okay… you win,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“I always win,” you say in a devious tone with an equally devious look. 

“Don’t I always win, Jay?” You ask, turning to JJ who looks between you and John B in a panic for a moment. 

“Sorry JB. I have to say she is definitely a winner in my book,” JJ tells both of you and you let out a cheer pumping your fist in the air. 

“Eat it birdy!” You cheer out as you do a little dance. 

“So not fair! JJ’s only on your side because he’s crushing hard. Let’s bring Sarah in as a tie breaker,” John B complains and you pause your dance crossing your arms as you prop an eyebrow at him. 

“How would that break the tie? One. Sarah, so would choose me too and second that’d only make it tied even more even if she did choose you,” you comment very pointedly and he shrugs sticking his tongue out. 

“At least it’d be more fair. Again, JJ only chose you because he’s crushing on you,” John B again points out and you shake your head. 

“And Sarah is so crushing on you,” you point out and JJ lets out an “ooooohhh” making you laugh. 

“She got you there JB,” JJ comments with a smirk that’s infectiously making you smirk too. 

“Okay birdy, you win. I take it as a compliment that my favorite person is crushing on me though,” you happily reply, leaving a kiss on JJ’s cheek and he blushes before awkwardly clearing his throat. 

“Okay. Okay. Enough fighting you two. I think it’s time to put the angel up right?” JJ cuts in only wanting to change the whole subject as he holds the Angel up for you to take from him. 

“Yeah, okay.” You agree as you take the Angel from him. 

You look down at the Angel in your hands, the angel you and your mom had picked out together when you were five. You don’t remember much of her, John B does because he’d been a little older (he’d been seven) when she left, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt when you think about how she’d just left the three of you behind. John B and your dad had told you so much about her that sometimes she felt like a phantom to you, like someone that was there for a second, someone you knew so well, then gone the very next. Tears well up in your eyes and you look up at John B. He immediately knows what you’re thinking and lets out a sigh, sad for you as always, he always felt sad you couldn’t fully remember her like he could. 

“I know, bug. I miss mom too,” John B sympathizes with you and you wipe under your eyes as JJ squeezes your shoulder. 

“I just wish I’d gotten to actually know her a little more,” you mutter and JJ pulls you into a hug knowing that’s the only sure way to comfort you. 

“Here, cupcake. Let me pick you up so you can reach the top of the Christmas tree.” JJ tells you after pulling away from the hug and he bends down before slipping his head between your legs lifting you as he stands. 

“You better not drop me Jayj!” You squeak out before giggling hysterically as you’re now sitting on his shoulders one hand in his hair the other holding the angel and he stands straight. 

“I would NEVER dream of it cupcake,” he sweetly tells you as he holds you a little tighter to make it known he definitely won’t drop you. 

You grin as you put the Angel on the tree before looking down to see JJ looking up at you. You then nod at him and he bends to let you down slowly. Once you have both feet on the ground he stands up straight next to you. You smile at him before suddenly you're letting out a gasp pushing JJ away just the slightest but in your excitement. 

“What? What’s wrong?” JJ asks immediate worry, taking over as he looks at John B for help, but John B just shrugs just as confused. 

“It’s If Everyday Was Like Christmas my favorite Elvis Christmas song,” you happily explain and JJ lets out a sigh of relief shaking his head. 

“We should have known,” John B playfully rolls his eyes 

“Oh we really should have dude. She is an old soul,” JJ agrees and he chuckles as you start to sway again just as you had with Blue Christmas and JJ shakes his head again too as you hold a hand out for him. 

“What?” JJ asks with an arched eyebrow and you grin making his heart melt at seeing you so happy. 

"I want to dance with you. Come on. Dance with me Jayj,” you beg, holding your hand out to him more insistently. 

“Okay, but you should know I’m not a good slow dancer sweetheart,” he informs you as he takes your hand in his and you smile as you help him get into position. 

“It’s okay J. Just sway with me. We don’t have to be all that fancy, we’re Pogues, remember? Not kooks,” you remind and he throws his head back laughing before calming as he sways with you. 

“P4L. Never a kook,” JJ happily agrees, proud that you feel the same way he does. 

You lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and his leans against yours. He looks at John B for a moment over your shoulder who seems to be watching the two of you fondly. John B then surprises him by putting his hands up in surrender before leaving the room and JJ melts against you a little more. 

When If Everyday Was Like Christmas ends both of you slowly come to a stop and you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him. You smile softly at him and again there’s a moment where you lock eyes. His bright brilliant blue eyes shining with happiness and another emotion that makes you think you might just kiss, but just like all the other moments over the years where you’d been close John B walks back into the room. 

“And what’s going on here?” John B asks ever the overprotective brother that he is and you roll your eyes. 

“Nothing birdy. Are we watching die hard or not?” You ask changing the subject as you push away from JJ and he fights not to frown at the missing feeling of your body heat. 

“Not. I thought we could open a gift or two,” John B tells you and you arch an eyebrow at him. 

“I thought we all agreed on no gifts this year?” You ask and John B shrugs. 

"I’d be down. I know we said no presents this year but I wanted to get you both something special to show you how much I appreciate you, so I uhh did…" JJ admits with a shrug in agreement and John B grins shrugging along with JJ. 

“My gifts really aren't much. Just one to open tonight and tomorrow for each of us. All have super special meaning that’s all,” John B informs you and you grin shaking your head. 

“Well I really can’t say much. I did the same thing,” you admit with a giggle when they both give you a shocked look. 

“Bee! It was your idea!” John B cries out and you smile sheepishly. 

“Oppps,” you shrug feigning innocence, shrugging "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone else right?” You ask with a lopsided grin and John B lets out a chortle shaking his head almost in disbelief. 

“I mean she’s not wrong dude,” JJ happily chirps out and you smirk, bouncing your eyebrows. 

“I’m never wrong Jayj,” you joke with him poking his side and he playfully scoffs. 

“Okay. Yeah, whatever you want to believe cupcake,” he humors you as he rubs at the spot you’d poked him in. 

After opening gifts you’d all decided to watch the movie so you cuddle up next to JJ and John B decides to sit in the chair off to the side. As the movie plays JJ lays behind you his strong arm wrapped around your waist like normal and anytime he laughs you feel the warm air from his mouth over your neck making goosebumps rise on your arms. You fight the whole movie not to fall even more in love with him and the way he holds you, but just like any other time the two of you cuddle you do. 

“Well, I’m beat. I’m going to bed,” John B announces as he slaps his hands down on the arms of the chair and pushes himself up. 

“Goodnight JB,” you call out as he walks toward his room and he turns around. 

“Goodnight bumblebee. Sleep tight,” he replies with a soft smile your way. 

“So cupcake, you heading to bed too?” JJ asks and you look up at him. 

“I’m not really tired. I might go lay in the hammock for a little while,” you inform him and he nods letting go of your waist. 

“You could come join me if you want, but you definitely don’t have to,” you tell him biting at your lip, nervous he might say no and he chuckles. 

“And skip out on our special hammock time?” He asks like he is offended and he smiles when you perk up. 

“Really?” You ask in excitement and he smiles even more. 

“Really cupcake. I love our hammock time. Let’s go,” he promises softly as he pushes up off the couch and grabs the blanket the two of you always use. 

He then turns to you and looks down at you sitting up before reaching a hand out to you. You smile almost shyly as you slip your hand into his and he pulls you up from the couch. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and together you walk out of the château. You both walk down the stairs and over to the hammocks. 

“After you princess,” JJ tells you as he bows like a butler would and you giggle shaking your head. 

“Why thank you. You're a very kind Prince, you know that?” You ask him as he lays down with you now and he holds his arm up for you to cuddle up to his side. 

“Well it’s easy to be kind to a princess like you,” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his flirty ness as he uses his other hand to put the blanket over the two of you. 

You giggle as he struggles to lay the blanket out evenly over the two of you and you reach out to grab the other side, pulling it over yourself. He chuckles softly, shaking his head before finally relaxing and he squeezes you softly as the two of you look up to watch the very prominent stars in the sky. 

“Can I tell you a secret cupcake?” He whispers out to you after a few minutes as he uses his fingers to rub your arm. 

“Of course Jayj… you can tell me anything. You know that,” you promise as you cuddle into his side even more. 

"I believe the Abominable Snowman may be real... I think there may be something in that." He whispers and you slowly grin, turning to smile up at him. 

“You might actually be right… I mean who’s to say he’s not real?” You ask and he chuckles, shaking his head loving the fact that you just agree with him. 

“I think I may have everything I want right here right now,” you whisper out as you cuddle back down into him with a hum of contentment. 

"Everything I want I can’t have." He admits and you frown pushing up to look at him again. 

“What do you mean? You don’t have everything you want? What else could you want?” You ask with a frown, sad that he could possibly not be as happy as you thought he was. 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them open once more. His blue eyes stare into yours and you almost lose yourself in them. 

“You,” he whispers almost nervously and you’ve never seen JJ at his nervous before as you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Jayj. You have me. I’m not sure why you think you don’t,” you tell him in confusion and he huffs in anger, but not in anger at you, no he’d never be angry at you, but he is angry you're not getting it. 

“No princess. You don’t get it… I want us to be… uggh,” he groans out reaching up to rub at his chest and your eyebrow furrows even more as you reach up moving his hand before rubbing his chest for him. 

“Jay. Just calm down and tell me. It’s okay… you want us to be…” you prompt him to continue on as he seems to calm a little more. 

“Okay… uhh… I want us to be more than friends and I know Pogues don’t Mack on Pogues, but I’ve wanted to be so much more with you for years…” he admits hesitation clear as he once again for the second time in the night refuses to look at you and you smile. 

“Jayj… look at me please…” you whisper out and hit takes him a moment, but soon he’s doing it. 

"It was always you, through everything it was always you Jayj. Nobody else,” you whisper again with a grin growing on your face as you watch him slowly realize exactly what you’d said. 

“Wait… really? But wait… what?” He asks in confusion and you giggle. 

"I'd always choose you Jayj.” You softly promise and nuzzle into his chest bashfully and he chuckles bringing his hand up to your head to massage at your scalp. 

“I’d always choose you too Princess,” JJ promises just as softly as he leaves a kiss to your forehead. 

“You missed…” you tell him with a confident grin as you sit up to look at him and he chuckles again shaking his head. 

“Oh my bad. Let’s see if I can fix my mistake then,” he jokes right back with his own smile growing. 

Before you know it his hand trails from your hair and to your neck, lightly pulling you to him while tilting your head ever so slightly. He moves slowly and treats you so gently making the butterflies erupt even more in your stomach. There’s a thick anticipation that falls over you with how slowly you move closer together, but it’s the kind of anticipation you really don’t want to end. Finally his lips meet yours in a firm yet delicate and maybe a little desperate kiss. You are a little surprised thinking it would have been a little more heated with knowing how JJ is, but the delicacy of which he kisses you proves to you just how much he’s wanted this. 

He worries if he makes it anymore heated like he normally does with other girls he’d ruin this whole moment and he really doesn’t want to lose you. You're the most important girl outta all the ones he’s ever been with so if he messes it up he’s scared he might lose you all together. You take a leap and kiss him a little harder, surprising him for the smallest of moments, but he smirks into the kiss before reciprocating it even more. You smile into the now heated kiss as you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck and play with the hair at the nip of his neck making him groan. You then maneuver a little more so now instead of laying side by side you lay on top of him and he squeezes your waist after his hands move from your neck. 

Slowly you pull away breaking the kiss almost unwillingly and he chases your lips giving them another peck making you giggle. He then leans his forehead against yours and you grin wide as both of your heavy breaths mingle together. 

“Wow…” you whisper, biting your lip and he grins at you. 

“Definitely wow. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admits and you grin as you use your thumb to trace his lips. 

“I know it may be early, but I love you Jayj. You’re my favorite Christmas gift,” you tell him as you scoot down and lay your head on his chest. 

“It’s not early at all, princess. I think we’ve loved each other for a while now. We’ve just been too scared to tell each other,” he tells you as he kisses your head and pulls you even closer then before. 

“Oh and you're my favorite gift too sweet girl. I love you,” JJ adds on and you sigh happily. 

“Merry Christmas Jayj…” you mutter out as tiredness takes over your body. 

“Merry Christmas cupcake,” JJ parrots you again, squeezing you a little closer. 

It’s a little while later and JJ smiles when he realizes you’re breathing has evened out meaning you’re happily asleep in his arms. He yawns, but refuses to fall asleep quite yet, just wanting to enjoy having what he thought he never could. 

"How long ago did, bug fall asleep?" He hears a whisper making him look up at John B. 

“Only a little while ago. She’ll probably sleep in a lot more than the last few years. I thought you went to bed?” JJ whispers not wanting to wake you as you sleep soundly on his chest. 

“I did, but I knew you two would come out here and I wanted to check up on the two of you to make sure you're all good before I actually fall asleep,” John B whispers back and JJ smiles a thankful smile at him. 

“Thanks man. We’re good,” JJ tells him and John B nods pausing to watch your sleeping face. 

“You take care of her, you hear me JJ. You break her and best friends or not I will break you,” John B says in a serious whisper and JJ’s eyes widen for a moment. 

“Don’t worry dude. I don’t plan to and if it ever does happen I’d break myself before you even hit the chance,” JJ whispers honestly and John B smiles at his best friend. 

“I know, but now that the two of you got wise and got together I still need to make it known. I’m her big brother first and foremost,” John B informs him with a shrug and a happy smile at seeing his sister happy as well as safe and sound in his best friend's arms. 

“Goodnight JJ. Sleep well buddy,” John B tells him before turning and starting back to the château. 

“Night man. You sleep well too,” JJ tells him in a happy whisper as he nuzzled into your hair. 

John B knows without a doubt that JJ is good for his little sister and you are for JJ too. He’s so happy the two of you have finally confessed and made it official. He’s had to watch the two of you pine for one another for years and it was painful sometimes because he cares for both of you so much. First and foremost though as he’d told JJ you are and will always be his first thought. It’s just a big brother thing to protect his little sister. 

JJ watches until John B makes it into the château before deciding to hold you close for a little while longer. Before he knows it though your soft, even breathing lulls him into his own slumber and his eyes close, but even in his sleep he holds you close never ever wanting this Christmas to end; the most perfect Christmas ever for the both of you. 

The End…

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[kaymarie-bell]

Going feral over the Ithaca Saga rn

spoilers below (it's me yapping about the things I've noticed in each song)

The Challenge:

The 🎻Penelope🎻leitmotif to tells us who's about to (FINALLY) sing

I'm gonna be honest, I had heard all the snippets of this song because I wanted to hear Penelope SO BAD but I love having the actual song out

I knew this was going to be one of my top 3 from the beginning

I love the drums, especially when the suitors begin to sing

Penelope sounds so serious while issuing the challenge, it's very different from the snippets. (great choice! it's a dire situation)

"I'd rather die than grow old without The Best of you" knowing damn well The Best is Odysseus 😭💖

Anna held that final note for so long holy shit

Hold Them Down

I liked the repetition of the challenge by the suitors. Terrifying.

Ayron Alexander is a great singer, I had to listen twice because I got distracted by his voice so I missed what he was saying until the "hold her down". 😔

The lyrics are brutal. Jay did an amazing job 👏

Oof that sound at the end was disturbing. 100/10

Odysseus

THIS is the Ody Crashes Out song

OH! The beginning has the same structure as The Horse and the Infant / Monster

"I. Have Had. Enough." Cue Ody's leitmotif

The chanting of "Odysseus" to show HE'S the threat right now

Wait this is just Polyphemus/Survive but we're rooting for the cyclops

HE'S AIMING FOR THE TORCHES (we are the same you and I~)

YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW MY OWN PALACE? I BUILT IT 🏹

"Let's have Open Arms instead-" / 🏹 "No."

"Legendary" melody to announce Telemachus 😭

Is that Athena's quick thought leitmotif? I need Jay's visuals 😫

MICO did such a great job omg

the soundscaping is really good as always. I can picture the scene very well

"Mercy? MERCY?" 🏹

Jay with the crazy voice acting again 👏

The final "Odysseus" chant is the same one as the end of No Longer You 🫵

I Can't Help but Wonder

I might be wrong, but I think the beginning goes from Just a Man to the Legendary leitmotif 😭

Acoustic guitar because this is an emotional song

Ngl I cried a lot with this one

MY SON, I'M FINALLY HOME 🗣

🗣TELEMACHUS~🗣

I can't tell if the piano in the background is playing a previous melody. I need the musician YouTubers to drop their analyses asap 😩

Quick thought. MY QUEEN IS BACK.

"Show yourself, I know you're watching me"

Athena sounds so much more...human? She really changed!

Athena basically:...should we try Open Arms now? / Ody:...too late for me I fear

"Father? She's waiting for you"

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

The deep breath before the 🎻Penelope🎻😭

I love how the strings build up/speed up! it translates Ody's anxiousness/anticipation so well. And all goes quiet when the door opens

Anna sounds so beautiful 💖

The lyrics are wrecking me so bad. Thinking about "So much has changed, but I'm the same, yes I'm the same!" previously 😭

"What kind of things did you do?" /

"Left a trail of red on every island" *Ruthlessness melody*

"As I traded friends like objects I could use" *Thunder Bringer melody*

"Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands" *Scylla melody*

"But all of that was to bring me back to you. So tell me, would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done? The things I can't undo"

Penelope's last test with their bed.

Odysseus: "I am not the man you knew"

Penelope: "IF that's true...could you do me a favor?"

Odysseus being so hurt about the suggestion of cutting down their wedding bed 😭

Odysseus: "the only way to move it, is to CUT IT FROM ITS ROOTS!"

Penelope: "only my husband knew that, so I guess that MAKES HIM YOU!"

She didn't ask him because she doubted it was her husband, she asked him because HE was doubting HIMSELF OH MY GOD-

I would fall in love with you, over and over again, I don't care how where or when,

No matter how long it's been YOU'RE MINE

DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE NOT THE SAME PERSON! YOU'RE ALWAYS MY HUSBAND and I've been Waiting, Waiting!

WAITING!....for you (with the word "for" sung in the same melody the crew used to sing "Oh, whoah-oh-oh Odysseus." Wait is this her saying she accepts him monster and all? 😭)

*Just a Man orchestra ver.* I had a feeling Jay would do this, and yet I was NOT emotionally prepared for it at all

This song is basically: Odysseus hurt because he thinks Penelope confirmed his fear (she cannot love him anymore) by telling him to cut down the tree 🤝 Penelope upset with Odysseus because how dare he doubt her love (they love each other so much)

Penelope: "How long has it been?"

Odysseus: "Twenty years"

Both: "I Love You"

I'm so sick. Jorge can write a damn good love song for sure.

I'm sad about this being over but I'm also so very happy about finally having all these songs. This has been a great journey, and I can't wait to see what he does moving forward ❤️

[slaymitchabernathy]

A Christmas Miracle

My dearest Soarynn, I'm writing to you with the grandest news I could ever bestow upon you. All Capitol troops will be returning home for Christmas. We'll be permitted to stay for one week before returning to our base camp. I know you'll want as much time as possible to plan for my arrival, although I am confident in your abilities to arrange for proper accommodations to be made. We will arrive on Sunday and there is to be a dinner on Monday night to commemorate our fallen comrades. I do hope you're well darling, not a single day goes by without me thinking of you. I cherish the photographs and letters you send me with all my heart, and cannot wait to have you back in my arms again. I do not know when our train will be arriving, so please, check the train schedules frequently. You are a constant light in the darkness of the Districts my love and I am anxiously waiting for the day when we can be together without worry or fear. I will see you on Sunday, please take care of yourself, my darling girl. Love, Coriolanus

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn nervously eyes her reflection in the mirror.

Does she look okay? Is her hair too shiny? Will he think she looks pretty?

"You look beautiful Miss Soarynn," her maid gushes, setting the hairbrush down on the counter, "Mr. Snow will be head over heels when he sees you at the train station."

Soarynn blushes, she's always been complimented on her beauty but his opinion is the only one that truly matters. Still, she appreciates the kind words, goodness knows everyone could use a kind word or two in these dark times.

Two years ago, war broke out in the Districts again. Soarynn had thought it was impossible, especially after the last war ended with the Capitol on top and the Districts on the bottom. Her husband, Coriolanus Snow had assured her time and time again that another war was impossible.

For once he was wrong.

The war didn't make its way to the Capitol this time, no, it remained in the Districts, and in an effort to contain it, the Capitol began sending troops to the wilderness of the Districts. Coriolanus was drafted due to his family legacy, his own father had been a general in the first war during the Dark Days and he was more than willing to serve his country.

Soarynn was less willing to watch her husband board a train and possibly never come back. Even though he assured her that he was simply there along with the other troops to impose their presence, she still wasn't convinced. They had been newly married and trying to start a family, why couldn't he stay with her where it was safe?

Coriolanus of course, saw it as a great honor to serve Panem and promised to write to her once a week and if allowed, make phone calls. Soarynn thought it was ridiculous, they lived together and now they were getting excited over five-minute phone calls.

Still, for him to come home for an entire week after being gone for so long was a treat as great as any and she wouldn't be taking it for granted. She had filled their week with lots of winter activities leading up to Christmas. She had the maids clean the penthouse from top to bottom, wanting everything to be perfect for Coriolanus.

She went out and bought him some new clothes, and...some new lingerie for herself as well. They'd certainly be busy at night.

"I certainly can't wait to see him again," she murmurs, reaching for her compact, "one week isn't long enough."

Being left alone in the Capitol had been hard on Soarynn. She used to spend nearly every moment with Coriolanus and now, she was on her own. She had turned to extreme measures, turned to something that galas and tea parties could not fix.

She got a cat.

She knew Coriolanus wouldn't exactly be thrilled but she was desperate for constant companionship. She glances out into her bedroom where her cat, Petunia, is curled up on her husband's pillow, sound asleep. She hopes they'll get along.

Coriolanus was used to a house with just the two of them and Petunia is used to a house with just the two of them.

There might be a war within the Snow household this week.

But they'll barely be home with what she has planned for them. At least that's what she tells herself.

Soarynn inspects herself one last time, making sure there's not a single flaw in her appearance. She wore light makeup today since Coriolanus has always loved her freckles so much. Maria styled her hair perfectly, curling it and then pulling back some pieces to tie with a bow. Soarynn grabs one of her favorite perfume bottles, one that holds a vanilla scent, and liberally sprays it all over herself. She wants to engulf Coriolanus in her scent.

She rises from her vanity stool and makes her way into the closet, the closet that feels so empty without some of his clothes in it. He'll certainly be glad to return with some new ones and Soarynn will be glad to wear his old ones. She often sleeps in his shirts, clinging to the scent of roses and something masculine that she just can't get enough of.

"Red or blue?" She asks Maria, pulling out two dresses, nearly identical to each other. Maria inspects both of them, gently touching the fabric, "I think the red one Miss," she tells Soarynn who nods in agreement, Coriolanus has always liked red.

"Perfect, will you please go fetch my coat and gloves?" She asks, unzipping the dress. "Certainly Miss," Maria gives Soarynn a small curtsy before leaving to go get her things and Soarynn slides off her silk robe.

She only looks at her almost naked self in the mirror for a second, reminding herself how lucky she is to be standing in a closet full of clothes with a household staff at her beck and call. She could be in the streets, starving and cold but she's safe and warm.

The war didn't affect everyone in the Capitol like it did last time. She remembers the first war, the bombs, her parents both dying, how hungry people were. This war has been different.

Only the lower and middle classes have been truly affected by it. Food has become limited but not scarce, there are ration lines but only for those who absolutely need it and Soarynn isn't one of those people. By marrying a Snow, she solidified herself in the upper class, in the elite. Every once in a while there will be a shortage of strawberries or meat but it's always resolved rather quickly.

If anything, the war has been a great inconvenience for her, disrupting her normal plans. She still goes to tea with her friends, still goes on shopping sprees, still gets pedicures every other week. Coriolanus didn't leave her with nothing. He suffered from the first war too, losing both his parents and a good bit of his family fortune. He spent the next ten years building his name back up and now, he's one of the richest men in Panem.

With his investments, business ventures, and connections, he left Soarynn to live a comfortable life of luxury. And the Capitol pays him to be at war.

It's the best-case scenario for a thing like this but she still wishes he didn't have to leave in the first place.

Soarynn shakes those thoughts off and slips into the dress. It's a very flattering look on her with a boat neckline that shows off a bit of her collarbones. It's sleeveless but she'll have her coat and gloves and it fits her figure perfectly, stopping right below her knees to show off her white high heels. With her hair and makeup done perfectly as well, she makes for a picture of sophistication.

Maria returns with her coat and gloves and helps Soarynn into them. Maria has been a godsend to Soarynn who had been quite overwhelmed once Coriolanus left. She's younger than Soarynn but very mature, always helping Soarynn manage in taking care of such a large apartment. She'll occasionally accompany Soarynn to the market if she needs to buy something specific and is always a good source of advice.

Soarynn had hired Maria right before Coriolanus left and she's been a loyal servant ever since.

"We'll be back later tonight," Soarynn tells Maria while searching for the right purse, "he'll want bourbon or whiskey, maybe both. And please make sure that the bath has been properly cleaned as well. He'll have lots of laundry that'll need to be done before he leaves."

Maria nods along to all of her words, "Yes Miss Soarynn, everything will be ready for Mr. Snow's arrival."

Soarynn picks a black handbag, leather and beautifully crafted, a gift from Coriolanus a few years ago when they were engaged, "Perfect. I'll call if anything comes up."

Maria walks her to the front doors and Soarynn buttons her coat, taking in a deep breath, "Enjoy yourself Miss Soarynn," Maria kindly tells her, "you deserve to have this time with your husband."

Soarynn smiles, she's right, she ought to enjoy every minute with Coriolanus rather than stressing about everything being perfect. "Thank you, we'll see you tonight."

Soarynn makes her way into the hallway and waits for the elevator, living in the penthouse is all fun and games until you're stuck waiting for the elevator. Coriolanus will probably remind her of a time when the elevator didn't work during the first war.

He's been doing a lot of that, reminding and remembering about what he went through the first time a war was brought to the Capitol's doorstep. Soarynn wonders if it's some sort of trauma response.

The elevator arrives with a ding and Soarynn steps into it, pressing the button to bring her to the lobby. She ends up being stopped on the eleventh floor where Mrs. Dolittle gets in, dragging her white, yappy dog with her. "Oh Mrs. Snow, don't you look lovely? Say hello to Mrs. Snow little Zeus," Mrs. Dolittle says to her dog Zeus who only barks at Soarynn.

"Thank you," Soarynn says to the older woman, "and hello Zeus, are you off for your afternoon walk?" Mrs. Dolittle hums and places a hand over her heart, "We're off to watch all of the troops come home, some of them are being brought in by trucks."

Soarynn's interest is piqued, "Trucks? Coriolanus is coming by train, I thought..." Her voice dies off and she begins to worry, has the schedule been changed? Is he not coming home today?

"Your husband will be coming by train because he's important dear," Mrs. Dolittle says before Soarynn can begin to spiral, "the rest of the troops are less important, or to put it plainly, less rich."

Oh.

Well, Soarynn can't argue with that.

"I see," is all she says before the doors open up to the lobby. "Enjoy your time with your husband dear," Mrs. Dolittle pats Soarynn's arm, "and if you have time, tell Coriolanus to pay us a visit so he can meet Zeus."

Soarynn knows for a fact that he won't have time or want to meet Zeuz but she smiles all the same and promises to do her best.

Soarynn walks out into the cold December air with a newfound energy inside of her. She's going to see her husband again, and for an entire week!

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn is giddy with excitement as she slides into the backseat of their car, "The train station please," she says, fishing her compact out of her handbag. She might as well check her reflection one more time, just in case something on her face changed from the elevator ride.

For their first wedding anniversary, Coriolanus gifted her a beautiful gold compact with a mirror and power inside. The power is her favorite scent, of course, vanilla. There's a beautiful rose engraved on the outside of the compact and even though they were apart on their anniversary, he still made the effort.

Soarynn applies a little more powder to her neck before glancing outside the car windows and she's astounded at how many people are milling around the train station.

"Looks like the whole Capitol's here," her driver remarks. Soarynn scans the crowd of eager faces, most of these people don't look like her, rich, but they might still be waiting for loved ones to arrive.

Her driver gets her all the way to the entrance of the station so she doesn't have to walk, "I'll wait right here Mrs. Snow," he assures her.

Soarynn nods and begins to make her way inside the train station. The glass pane ceilings let the natural light shine in and it's shaping up to be a beautiful day. The platform is even more crowded with hundreds of people pushing and shoving. Soarynn walks over to the schedule that's been posted on one of the ticket booths and scans one last time for her husband's train.

A Peacekeeper standing guard notices her, "Are you looking for a particular train Miss?" Soarynn shakes her head, offering him a polite smile, "I wouldn't want to trouble you, my husband is coming home today from District Five."

"Who's your husband?"

"Coriolanus Snow."

The Peacekeeper's eyes widen from hearing that name, that so very important name, "Allow me to escort you to the correct platform then Mrs. Snow."

Soarynn looks back over at all the people pushing and shoving, it does look very busy over there but she wouldn't want to impose. "I don't want to trouble you," she says sweetly, "I'm sure I can manage."

The Peacekeeper must not have a lot of faith in her, "I insist ma'am, please allow me to safely escort you." Soarynn jumps when she hears some shouting and looks back over to see that a fight has broken out on the platform, "Well if you insist," she quickly agrees.

The young man to his credit, gets Soarynn to the correct platform in one, safe piece, clearing a path for them the second people see his uniform. Platform Five is much quieter than the platform she just saw and Soarynn sighs, "This is much emptier," she notes.

The Peacekeeper chuckles, "Those other people don't know how to act, that's why they're all the way over there and you're all the way over here."

Before Soarynn can say anything else, the sharp whistle of an incoming train gains her attention. She looks around at the others waiting, mostly women like her, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their husbands. The train slowly pulls into the station, too slow in her opinion but she's excited all the same.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Two years," she answers, trying to look into the train windows, "two very long years."

It feels like a lifetime but she won't let that stop her from continuing to love him from afar. The train doors finally hiss open and several women rush forward in search of their loved ones. Soarynn being more shy and timid, stays back, looking for a head of blonde hair. It seems that all the men are dressed in their uniforms, donning their hats and coats, making it harder for Soarynn to see Coriolanus.

She watches several tearful reunions and can't help but wish for her own. More men spill out, some are greeted, some are not. Soarynn has heard the whispers about divorces left and right due to men being deployed. She can't imagine separating from Coriolanus because he's serving his country.

One man with tan skin steps off the train and he's looking directly at Soarynn, making her feel very self-conscious. He looks into the train and says something, pointing at her.

Soarynn stands up straight, her heart is pounding and there he is.

Coriolanus Snow is stepping off the train.

Soarynn is a woman who prides herself on following the unspoken rules of etiquette. No screaming, no shouting, no running in public or arguing.

She throws all those rules out the window the second he lays eyes on her. She breaks into a huge smile and runs towards him, not caring how improper it is.

Coriolanus doesn't seem to care either as he grins, opening his arms up. Soarynn shrieks and throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest, content to never let go of him again. Coriolanus wraps his strong arms around her and she can smell the roses, smell how manly he is, and how much she's missed him. Coriolanus groans and squeezes her tight, "There's my girl."

Soarynn might just cry.

She pulls away just enough to see his face, his handsome face. He looks the same as he left, prominent nose, beautiful blue eyes, full lips with a smile that still drives her crazy.

"I missed you," is the first thing she says.

He kisses her a second later, not wasting any time showing her how much he missed her as well. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck even tighter to deepen the kiss. It feels so good, so good to have his lips on her again. She didn't realize how much she took this feeling for granted until he left.

Two years without a kiss good morning, goodbye or goodnight.

They're going to have to pry him away from her cold, dead hands when this week is up.

"Soarynn," he says against her lips, "I might have to take you with me when I go back because I can't go without this again." Soarynn laughs into the kiss, it looks like she's not the only one who's been lonely. When they finally break away from the kiss, his eyes meet hers and they hold so much love, so much devotion, the need and want to keep her safe no matter what.

"Look at you," he says softly, resting a gloved hand on her cheek, "still so beautiful and radiant. You look gorgeous darling, absolutely gorgeous, I pity the men who didn't get to come home to you today."

Soarynn giggles and rests her head on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. She lets go of his neck and wraps her arms around his torso, he feels so strong under all these layers, "I missed you so much Coryo," she tells him, "thought about you every single day you were gone."

She feels him place a kiss on the top of her head, another thing she's missed, how affectionate he is with her. "You have me for an entire week," he tells her, his voice laced with authority and yet completely gentle and patient with her. Soarynn hums, closing her eyes so she can remember this moment for the rest of her life.

She's grateful that he doesn't pull away, force her to move because she really doesn't want to. She wishes she could freeze time so they could stay like this forever.

"You weren't lying Snow," someone says, causing Soarynn to lift her head. It's the same man who was looking at her when he stepped off the train, "I told you she's beautiful," Coriolanus replies, kissing her temple. Soarynn feels herself blushing, she hadn't even thought about Coriolanus bragging to his comrades about her but it sounded exactly like something he'd do.

Coriolanus is a proud man, proud of his family, proud of his success, and proud to have secured a fitting match such as Soarynn. He's never shied away from boasting about her beauty, her charm, and femininity. Of course, he'd talk about her to his comrades, show off her pictures proudly.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," the man waves before walking down to the exit. Soarynn looks up at her husband, "Who was that?"

While Soarynn's letters to Coriolanus have included all the latest gossip and news, his have been more about how much he misses her and hopes for her safety at all times. Rarely has he mentioned anyone he's worked with.

"Lance Parkes," Coriolanus tells her, "we're in the same barrack."

Soarynn hums, she'll have to ask him about all his friends although she'll meet most of them tomorrow night. "How was the train ride?"

Coriolanus rubs her side, "It was fine, quite long but we were in first class so it was much more bearable."

Soarynn slips a hand under his coat, feeling the rest of his uniform, "You feel so strong, and you look so very smart in the uniform," she tells him, earning her a pleased grin. "Strong hmm?" He teases, making her giggle, "I should've known you'd ogle me the first chance you got."

Soarynn gasps, playfully shoving his chest, "Oh, please, you're the one who likes to ogle." He really is, Soarynn is more likely to silently admire her husband whereas he isn't afraid to make her put on a show for him.

Whenever they go shopping he has her come out and show him every outfit, praising her sense of fashion. And whenever she comes home with some new lingerie, well...she gives him a more private show.

"Well now that you've mentioned it, let me get a proper look at you," he says, loosening his grip on her, "give me a spin darling." Soarynn glances around the now barren platform, apparently, their reunion was longer than everyone else's so she doesn't feel too silly spinning around. Coriolanus lets out a low whistle and nods, looking her up and down, "You've got the type of beauty men go to war for," he tells her matter-of-factly.

Soarynn merely shakes her head, she wouldn't want to be the cause for any man to go to war, let alone her husband. "Where's your trunk?' She asks, changing the subject to something not about her. Coriolanus turns and points at the one trunk that's left, "I've come bearing gifts," he tells her, causing Soarynn's lips to curl up into a smile, "You don't say."

Coriolanus hums, reaching a hand out for her and she gladly takes it, "I've thought about you every single day," he continues, "thought about what you were doing, if you were feeling alright, if you needed anything." Soarynn's heart might just shatter into a million pieces, Coriolanus has been on her mind constantly but she always wondered if she was on his.

She squeezes his hand, smiling up at him, "Well we have a whole week together, so let's make the most of it."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn has forgotten how attractive Coriolanus is.

For once, the roles are reversed and he is doing the shopping while she lounges on a sofa and sips champagne. He stands on a small pedestal, looking at his reflection in the store's mirrors that show him every angle.

He had written once or twice about outgrowing some of his clothing which confused Soarynn since he was too old to grow taller. But now, she gets it.

He's bigger. Stronger. More muscular.

His shirts don't fit the way they used to.

He looks very handsome in what the salesman selected for him, black pants, perfectly tailored, and a simple white button-up tucked into the pants. They're shopping for a new suit for him to wear to the dinner tomorrow night but finding a shirt to properly fit him has posed a challenge.

The salesman presses his lips into a thin line when he sees the buttons threatening to pop off, "Still too tight?"

Coriolanus offers him a polite smile, "Just a bit."

The salesman waves his hand, "An extra-large then, I'll have someone bring you the proper size."

Soarynn resists the urge to jump off the sofa and run into the changing room with her husband, it would be quite scandalous, and also bad manners.

"Where has he been all this time?" The salesman asks, raising an eyebrow, "I see hundreds of men every day in here but he must've been hiding under a rock." Soarynn chuckles, she doesn't mind when women or men flirt with her husband or talk about him in front of her, at the end of the day, she gets to go home with him.

"He's been deployed," she answers, setting her glass down on the small table, "he's back for a week and he's in desperate need of clothing that actually fits him."

"Well, I can see that, he's doubled in size from the looks of it, let me go look for a few more shirts."

Soarynn looks around the store while she waits, watching people come and go, everyone is doing last-minute shopping but she did hers weeks ago. Then she got that letter from Coriolanus and her entire world turned upside down. She had been so excited, she cried tears of joy, her husband was coming back to her.

For a week but still.

A few minutes later, Coriolanus walks out with a shirt that fits him properly and that cocky grin she's grown to love over the years, "What do you think darling?" He asks, holding out his arms while giving her a slow spin, "Do we have our base layer down?"

Soarynn does her best to remain appropriate when looking him up and down but it's very hard, especially with his big hands, and his big arms, and thighs and...she's getting distracted.

"I think we do," she answers with an encouraging smile. Coriolanus nods, "Perfect, let's move on to suit jackets then."

꧁ ꧂

Two hours later, Soarynn is strolling down the street with her husband and two large shopping bags.

"He was a good salesman," Coriolanus says, pulling her a little closer, "although I do believe he was flirting with me." Soarynn laughs, Coriolanus is as charming as they come but he's always had a hard time deciphering when the same gender flirts with him. Women he can pick up on in seconds, but men confuse him greatly.

Soarynn simply sees it as a compliment if both genders find you equally attractive.

"He was definitely flirting with you," she tells him, looking into a few shop windows, "you've got a new look and people are bound to notice."

Soarynn nearly trips when she sees the perfect little black dress in a boutique window. It's strapless and somewhat short but she knows that with the right heels, she can pull it off. One look at Coriolanus and she can tell that he's already picturing pulling it off of her.

"Why don't we go in here?" He suggests, his voice slightly hoarse. Soarynn wraps her hand around his arm and pulls them towards the door, "If you insist."

They're immediately greeted by an eager-looking saleswoman who has bright red hair and very long eyelashes, "Welcome, welcome! What brings you two in today?"

Coriolanus nods towards the mannequin wearing the black dress, "The black dress in the window would look stunning on my wife."

Soarynn doesn't even have time to blush because this saleswoman is grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the fitting rooms, "Of course, it would! You just go right back here dear and I'll bring you a few sizes."

Soarynn finds herself mindlessly nodding to whatever this woman says and walks into the first fitting room she sees. She doesn't even wait an entire minute before there's a knock on the door. She opens it to find the saleswoman holding three black dresses, "I brought a few sizes, although this one will probably fit you best."

Soarynn takes the hanger into her hands and nods, "Thank you very much." Part of her worries that this woman might try to come in and help her so she quickly shuts the door. Soarynn takes a deep breath before taking off her own clothes and neatly hanging them on the hooks in the fitting room. She steps into the dress and pulls it over her hips.

It would look great if she could get the zipper up.

"How's it going in there?"

Soarynn grits her teeth while fighting to pull the zipper all the way up, "Fine!" She calls back, using one hand to balance herself against the wall, "If you need any help just let me know!"

Soarynn almost falls over, "That won't be necessary!"

Three minutes later, she's sweaty and has the damn dress on.

But it does look very good on her.

Soarynn opens the door and peeks her head out, the coast is clear. She can hear the saleswoman yammering away outside, talking her husband's ear off. "...and that's when I knew gluten wasn't good for me and...oh! Oh, you look fabulous dear!"

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, she isn't very fond of being the center of attention but neither Coriolanus nor the saleswomen can keep their eyes off of her as she steps in front of the mirror.

She can see Coriolanus watching her, a longing, lustful look in his eyes and she feels a boost of confidence, "You have the legs for that dress," the saleswoman tells her, "doesn't she Mr. Snow?"

Coriolanus grunts, fidgeting in his seat, "She certainly does."

Soarynn does a quick twirl and she smiles, "I'll take it." The saleswoman claps, delighted to do some business on such a busy day, "Wonderful! As soon as you take it off, I'll ring it up for you!"

Soarynn turns to go back to the fitting rooms but Coriolanus is quickly rising from his seat, "Let me help you with the zipper darling, she mentioned it might be tricky." Soarynn knows what he really wants and he could care less about the zipper, "Alright," she says sweetly.

They both walk back to her fitting room and he's on top of her the second she closes the door. Soarynn gasps when he pins her against the wall, his lips latch onto her neck, "Coryo," she gasps, "we're in a boutique!" Coriolanus scoffs and squeezes her waist, "I don't give a fuck darling, now turn around and bend over like the good girl you always are for me."

Soarynn would be lying if she said those words didn't do something to her. Something to her body that's gone two years without him. His touch, his lips, his hands, his cock.

She turns around.

Coriolanus bends her over and she braces her hands against the wall, "Coryo we have to be fast," she urgently whispers, not wanting to get caught. Mostly because she really wants this dress. Coriolanus chuckles and kisses right under her ear, "I'm just having a little fun darling."

He expertly unzips the dress and slides it off her body, letting it pool around her ankles and he palms her ass, groaning, "Fuck I missed you," he says, "missed this perfect little ass, your pretty little moans, how soft you are. You don't realize how bad it is out there for us darling, no women, surrounded by District scum, only our hands for a quick release."

Soarynn whimpers when he pulls her panties to the side, his fingers graze her clit and she bucks into his touch. She hasn't been faring but better in the sexual pleasure department but she has her ways, the shower head, her fingers, she's made it work.

But nothing is better than the real thing.

A knock on the door startles her, "Is everything alright in there dear?"

Coriolanus sinks two fingers into her cunt and Soarynn can feel her eyes rolling back. It's such a delicious burn after not having sex for so long and she might just cum right now, "Fine," she stammers, "it's, it's fine, I'm fine."

"Could you just toss the dress over the door then?"

Coriolanus reaches for the dress and Soarynn lifts her feet so he can grab it from the floor. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of her cunt and her knees buckle. Coriolanus catches her, holding her against the wall, "Be quiet for me hmm?" He says in her ear, his voice husky. Soarynn nods, biting her lip.

Coriolanus tosses the dress over the door and starts pumping faster and faster. Soarynn's toes are curling, her breaths are ragged. She's going to cum, very, very soon if he doesn't stop what he's doing. "Please," she mumbles, "please, please Coryo."

He peppers the back of her shoulder with kisses, so gentle in comparison to his fingers slamming in and out of her, "Still so good for me huh? Still remember your manners." Soarynn whines when his thumb presses against her clit, she cannot have an orgasm in a boutique fitting room.

Right?

Her walls start fluttering, her body starts shaking and the wire inside of her is about to snap, "Give it to me," he orders, "be my good girl and cum all over my fingers like the little slut you are for me Soarynn."

That's all it takes for her to fall apart. She lets out a moan but he quickly slaps his other hand over her mouth, muffling any noise she makes. Soarynn twitches as her orgasm rides out, it's so intense, so good after so long. She can feel the stickiness between her legs, she doesn't know how she's going to walk out of her but Coriolanus has already thought this through apparently.

He brandishes a handkerchief from his coat pocket a second later and makes quick work of cleaning her up to the best of his abilities. Her legs are still shaking, how she'll be able to look that saleswoman in the eye is beyond her. "You didn't, didn't get to..." Her voice dies off when she sees Coriolanus shaking his head, a sweet smile on his lips, "If I'm going to fuck you, then I'm going to do it properly," he tells her, "and in the comfort of my own home."

Soarynn lets him place a kiss on her forehead before he leaves to go pay for the dress. She puts her own clothes back on quickly so she doesn't raise any suspicion and joins Coriolanus a few minutes later at the counter near the front of the store.

Apparently, he's revealed that he's visiting for the week because the saleswoman has her hand over her heart, "...just the noblest thing a man could do for his country," she says, her eyes drifting over to Soarynn, "and leaving your wife behind? You're a national hero Mr. Snow."

Soarynn keeps herself from rolling her eyes, Coriolanus certainly has done a great service to his country, but being called a national hero is a bit of a stretch. Coriolanus, of course, loves it and grins, taking the pink bag off the counter, "You flatter me truly, thank you so much for your help today." Soarynn nods along to his words and wraps her hand around his arm, "Yes, thank you so much for your assistance."

"Of course! Stop by anytime."

They bid the saleswoman goodbye and step back out into the cold, Soarynn immediately curls into Coriolanus who doesn't despise the cold the way she does. Maybe it's because of his last name, but the cold has little to no effect on Coriolanus whereas Soarynn hates it with all her might.

"You should wear that dress to dinner tomorrow night," he says, leading them across the street. Soarynn gives him a skeptical look, "To a dinner honoring dead soldiers? I don't think so. Besides, I already have a dress picked out for tomorrow night." And she does, it's navy blue and makes her eyes pop. He'll love it because he loves everything she wears.

Coriolanus simply hums and holds her tighter, "Whatever you want darling."

Soarynn cherishes those words for she won't be hearing them in a few days. She ought to cherish every moment with Coriolanus while he's here, every single second is precious.

꧁ ꧂

Later that night, Soarynn finds herself in a most domestic position, curled up in her husband's arms, naked under their sheets. She used to dream about moments like this, hoping she'd wake up to find him next to her, only to wake up to an empty bed.

His breathing is slow and steady, instantly calming her after a long night of passionate sex. Coriolanus could barely keep his hands to himself for the rest of the day after their little stunt in the dressing room. They still had to go to several stores and then to dinner before they could come home.

Coriolanus was more than pleased to be warmly welcomed by his household staff and a clean apartment. He wasn't however, too pleased when he discovered Petunia lounging on his side of the bed, surprised to see a man in the room she thought of as her own.

There was a clear rivalry the moment they laid eyes on each other, especially when she saw how handsy he was being with Soarynn. She had hissed and swatted at him while Soarynn tried to calm her down and fix the rift between her beloved husband and cat.

She ended up removing Petunia from their bedroom so they could properly reunite and after several rounds of passionate sex, Soarynn was more than pleased with how the day turned out.

Coriolanus presses a hand on her stomach, splaying out his long fingers, "I was thinking," he mumbles in her ear, voice laced with sleep, "we should have a baby."

That gets her wide awake. Soarynn pushes her hips against his, causing him to groan since he has yet to pull out, "A baby?" She whispers, thinking about the possibility of finally starting a family with Coriolanus. They barely had any time after they got married, war broke out and he was shipped out.

It's not like they didn't want a family, the penthouse is huge with so many empty bedrooms. Her mind drifts down the hall to the nearest bedroom, vacant and begging to have a crib inside of it. He kisses right under her ear and hums, resting his chin on her shoulder, "Mhm, if it weren't for the war then I'm sure we'd have at least one child by now. And I've heard rumors Soarynn, they're starting to pull troops out little by little. I'll be home before you know it, and for good next time."

Soarynn's heart is beating so fast, the war is ending?

Part of her doesn't want to believe him, but Coriolanus isn't one to lie, he hates lying and anyone who does it. "Okay," she says, finding nothing wrong with his proposition. He's right, if Coriolanus wasn't deployed then they'd certainly already have a child right now. These past two years have set them back and she's not getting any younger.

He wraps his arms around her tighter and groans, "Good, because I'm convinced that I already fucked a baby into you."

They both laugh, knowing it doesn't exactly work that way but she's past caring about logistics right now.

Her husband is home and that's all that matters.

꧁ ꧂

Much to Soarynn's dismay, the next few days flew by in the blink of an eye.

She and Coriolanus spent every waking minute with each other, from the moment they woke up to the moment they went to bed, they were together. Their friends had teased them about it at dinner one night, how inseparable the pair was but Soarynn found nothing wrong with it.

She and Coriolanus belonged with each other. How could they not see it?

Even now as he opens a present from under the Christmas tree, it's so evident to Soarynn that he's the one for her. His strong masculine aura mixes perfectly with her gentle feminine one. While he's effortlessly charming, she's endlessly graceful, making them the perfect pair once again.

Coriolanus grins when he pulls out several pairs of white socks, the ones he's always been so fond of since Soarynn met him. He's always been one to value routine and tradition, never straying from what he trusts which includes socks. "You remembered my letter," he says with a laugh, setting them down on the floor next to him.

Soarynn nods, in one of his more recent letters, Coriolanus had mentioned how worn out his socks were becoming. Soarynn was no stranger to sending him letters but packages were a little bit trickier. They required an outrageous amount of postage to start, and there was never a guarantee that it would actually be delivered. She's sent a few over the past two years and according to Coriolanus, he's one of the only men who receives both packages and letters from home.

Soarynn truly can't imagine not writing letters to a loved one who's away at war. She writes him a letter nearly every day.

"I did," she agrees, "once I knew you were coming home, I ran out to buy you some new ones."

They both sit in comfortable silence while snow quietly falls outside of the living room windows. Soarynn watches the tiny snowflakes fall from the sky, doing her best to think about anything but what tomorrow will bring.

The train that will take him away from her again.

She can't help but begin to fear the worst, Coriolanus getting caught in the crossfire, a bomb going off and taking his limbs off, a trap being set just for him.

Which is highly unlikely from what he's told her. He's barely seen any real action, just a lot of angry people who he has to keep under control with a gun. When Soarynn asked if he ever had to use it on anyone, he'd gone quiet. This war still affected him despite him acting like it didn't. And Soarynn doesn't want him to go back to it.

She can feel the tears forming in her eyes, they've had such a lovely week filled with dinners, parties, and quality time together.

She doesn't want it to end.

"Darling," he says gently, "come here."

Coriolanus opens his arms out to her and Soarynn sniffles as she crawls over crinkled wrapping paper until she's crawling into his lap, burying her face in his neck. He immediately slips his hands under her nightgown and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight, "We'll be alright," he tells her softly, "I'll be back before you know it, and then we'll start our own little family. How does that sound?"

It sounds wonderful, like a dream come true to Soarynn who's been so lonely the past two years.

"Nice," is all she mumbles, not able to find it inside of her to act chipper when she's not. Coriolanus rubs his hand up and down her back, calming her with the smallest of touches, "I hope you know how much I miss you," he tells her, "how every night I stare up at the ceiling and wish you were there with me. You're all I have Soarynn, you've been the greatest gift."

Tears freely flow down her cheeks after hearing those endearing words. She doesn't know if this conversation is making his departure easier or worse. "I love you," she whispers, "with all my heart I love you."

She doesn't know how long they stay like that, curled up on the floor but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters when she's with him.

꧁ ꧂

The morning of her husband's departure comes with heavy burdens for both of them.

Coriolanus, who must face what lies in the Districts once again, alone and without the comforts of home.

Soarynn, who must return to normal life with a smile on her face, and without the comforts of him.

They both fake it incredibly well to their credit, smiling at those they pass by as they walk towards his train. Just a week ago Soarynn was getting ready to come to the station, putting so much effort into her appearance. She barely even brushed her hair this morning since she planned on running right back home once he left to cry in bed.

Coriolanus hands off his trunk to a train attendant and Soarynn watches the man carry it onto the train, already stealing parts of Coriolanus away from her. She looks around the platform and is somewhat comforted by the sight of many other couples sharing tearful goodbyes.

At least they can all be miserable together is what she's concluded.

"Keep writing to me hmm?" He asks, nosing her cheek in an effort to make her laugh. Soarynn nods but can't find it in herself to laugh like she usually does when he's being so sweet, "You'll let me know if you hear anything else about deployment right?" She inquires for the tenth time today. She knows it must be getting annoying but she simply must know that he'll keep her updated with these things.

Coriolanus nods and rests his forehead against her own, "Yes darling, the second I know for sure I'm coming home, I'll let you know."

She rests her hands on his arms, feeling him one last time, "I'm going to miss you," she mumbles, her voice carries more of a tremor than she'd like but it's hard to act brave right now. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her, so sweetly and gently. Soarynn returns the kiss with her own gentleness for this will be the last kiss she's given for a long time.

"Be careful out there," she whispers, not pulling away from the kiss, "I can't go on without you Coryo."

He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her into his safe hold, "I will," he promises, pecking her lips once more, "and you take care of yourself hmm? I want you to enjoy yourself while I'm gone darling, spend time with friends, spend my money, all those nice things hmm?" A small smile forms on her lips and Coriolanus chuckles, "There's my girl, always smiling for me."

She knows this is hard on him too, to leave her, to willingly leave her behind goes against everything Coriolanus believes in.

But they'll be together again soon, she's sure of it.

The sharp train whistle pulls the couple apart, announcing that the train will be departing soon.

"Make sure to call me," Soarynn reminds him, clinging onto him for dear life, "and to write to me. And let me know if you need me to send you anythi-"

She never finishes her sentence due to his lips crashing onto her again, effectively shutting her up. Soarynn responds the way she always does, loyally and lovingly, letting him take the lead. Coriolanus brings his hand to gently cup her face while they share one last kiss.

Another sharp whistle from the train jolts both of them and they finally break apart from their last kiss.

"I love you," he tells her, looking down at her with those devoted blue eyes of his. So piercing yet soft and gentle when he's with her and only her.

"I love you too," she says, "and I'm so proud of you."

Coriolanus smiles, hugging her one more time and kissing her temple before he lets her go. Soarynn remains frozen on the platform while her husband strides towards the train, stepping through the door right before the train starts pulling away.

Soarynn waves goodbye with the other wives, with only eyes for her husband who watches her from the door. It's only when he's out of sight that she allows herself to properly cry.

She ignores the sympathetic looks she's given from the other women and trudges back to the car, alone this time.

She cries the whole way home and in the elevator. Maria seems greatly concerned but Soarynn waves her off, she'll be fine in a few days, she remembers being like this the first time he left. Part of her wishes she didn't have to go through this again, that he never came home but she's so glad she got to see Coriolanus again.

Petunia is still lying in bed where they left her this morning, pleased to have her spot back. Soarynn gives her a gentle scratch behind the ears, "Just you and me again," she says sadly. She ought to wash the sheets considering they had sex every night but she refrains from doing so, she'll wash them when his scent is no longer detectable.

Soarynn lies in bed for hours feeling sorry for herself and missing her husband, only venturing into their bathroom when she needs to use it. She walks past the countertops and then her vanity when she notices a small white box sitting on her vanity counter, wrapped in a red bow.

Soarynn reluctantly picks it up and unties the ribbon, letting it all to the floor where Petunia immediately takes it to play with. But Soarynn pays her cat no mind as she opens up the box, softly gasping when she sees what Coriolanus has left for her.

A pregnancy test.

And a note.

Never too soon to find out. Love, Coriolanus

Soarynn chuckles, they both know it's highly unlikely for her to already be pregnant but she appreciates the gesture. She holds the testing device in her fingers, "Might as well try," she mumbles to herself, walking to the small room where their toilet is.

It only takes a few minutes but Soarynn finds herself doing anything but looking at the results. She folds some laundry, fluffs out their bedsheets. Finally, she walks back into the bathroom and turns over the test.

She gasps when she sees two red lines.

She's pregnant.

Newly pregnant, barely pregnant, but pregnant.

She can't believe it. Coriolanus isn't even halfway through his trip back to Five and yet he's left her with a most precious gift. Soarynn rests her hand on her stomach, imagining what it'll look like in a few months.

She's pregnant!

She's going to have a baby. She's going to be a mother, he's going to be a father.

Oh, Coriolanus.

She'll have to write to him at once to deliver the news. She's only a few days along but still.

It's a Christmas miracle.

꧁ ꧂

To my dearest Coriolanus, I'm writing this hours after your departure. I simply cannot wait a moment longer to tell you the wonderful news that I'm pregnant! I know we spoke of it when you first came home but after opening the gift you left me, I'm proud to say that you're going to be a father. I will keep things quiet until I can visit the doctor but I just had to tell you. I miss you with all my heart my love, I pray for your safety and your quick return. Know that not a day goes by where I do not think of you my heart for you are all that I am. I love & miss you already. Love, Soarynn

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @kickmybark @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee @erensrealgf |

[brooklyncircus]

Here's another one-shot dedicated to you, my reader 𖹭.

This Christmas was very special for Suguru Geto because it was the first one he shared with the two girls.

His girls.

Mimiko and Nanako.

And although Suguru Geto was still, in many ways, just a teenager, that didn’t stop him from trying his best to make sure both girls felt loved on such a special occasion.

Yes, he might have been a cult leader, a psychopath, and an unhinged genocidal maniac who despised humans, calling them "monkeys"... but when it came to those two, he was a completely different person.

In some ways, he was even their father figure. Or perhaps their only family. He had cared for and protected them from the start, offering them the best he could and vowing to keep doing so.

"Everything for my girls," he thought as his fingers stuck together from handling the Christmas tape.

If anyone peeked through the window, they’d see that unmistakable Christmas spirit everywhere. And how could you blame them? He liked Christmas too—he used to spend it with Shoko and...

Satoru.

He shook his head, deciding it was better to focus on the task at hand rather than dwell on foolish thoughts of the past. Or the people he had left behind.

He was a new person now, he told himself, smudging his fingertips with red and green markers as he tried to write a letter to the girls, pretending to be Father Christmas.

A different person, he thought again, as he stuck out his tongue and bit it slightly in intense concentration, sketching a plump Santa in his sleigh with reindeer, a sack of presents, and the iconic "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!" emblazoned in the night sky.

He doubted someone like Satoru would even recognise the shadow of the old Suguru—the boy who thought himself invincible, simply because the other one was always by his side.

Frowning, he took the letter in his hands, deciding it would look better with a touch of glitter.

"Mimiko and Nanako will love it more if it sparkles. They adore glitter," he mused, focused like a mama bear doing everything possible for her cubs.

Suguru was sure the girls had jars of glitter in various colours stashed somewhere.

“I’ve observed your behaviour all year and can confidently say that you, Mimiko and Nanako, have been two very good girls. That’s why these presents are for each of you!

Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!

Love, Santa.

P.S. The cookies were delicious, and so was the glass of cold milk—thank you very much! The reindeer are also grateful for your kindness in leaving carrots and water. That was very thoughtful of you.

Thank you, and see you next year!”

Once everything was ready, Suguru sighed, ran a hand over his forehead, and sneezed after inhaling some glitter. He was sweating and didn’t know why. Adrenaline, he supposed, as he arranged the gifts under the Christmas tree. When he finished, he took three steps back to admire his masterpiece.

"The girls are going to love it," he thought, nodding with his hands on his hips, gazing at the product of his effort and care with deep pride.

But he didn’t linger for long; he needed to get to bed before they caught him standing—very suspiciously—by the tree with crumbs from the cookies (meant for someone else) at the corner of his mouth.

Before heading to bed, he checked on the girls and found them sprawled out and dishevelled. Nanako’s blankets were on the floor, and Mimiko had somehow turned around in her sleep, her head now resting at the foot of the bed.

With a faint smile, he tucked them both in, kissed their foreheads, and made sure their favourite stuffed animals were snug beside them.

The next morning, Suguru woke to the sound of their joyful screams, their little footsteps approaching his room. Their laughter and cries of, "Santa came! Santa came!" melted his heart a little.

They burst through the door without knocking, leaping onto him, both brimming with excitement. Their bright eyes and beaming smiles were all the confirmation Suguru needed that he had done a good job.

“Is it Christmas already?” he asked, feigning confusion as though he’d just woken up.

Nanako giggled and nodded enthusiastically. “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! Santa came, Sugu! Santa came!” she repeated, hugging him tightly in her excitement.

Mimiko, on the other side, was about to burst with energy. She looked up at the ceiling, thumped her chest like a little gorilla, and bellowed, “IT’S CHRISTMAAAS!”

“IT’S CHRISTMAAAS!” he echoed, grinning as he got out of bed, the girls running after him.

As they darted to the tree, grabbing their presents and the letter, Geto sat cross-legged on the floor, arms open in a fatherly embrace. They eagerly leapt into his lap, Nanako clutching the letter while Suguru stroked her hair, and Mimiko snuggled against his chest, tears in her eyes.

After all, it was the first time they had celebrated Christmas in a loving home... with him.

When they opened their gifts and he saw their little faces light up with joy, Suguru made a promise to himself.

He vowed to protect those girls with his life.

For Nanako’s smile, for Mimiko’s tears. He vowed it as they hugged by the tree, wrapping paper scattered on the floor, cookie crumbs still fresh on the plate, carols playing softly, and garlands decorating the walls.

Because they weren’t just any girls. No.

They were his girls.

His Mimiko. His Nanako. His daughters.

And nothing, ever, would change that.

Nothing.

[lilmisshellfireswritingblog]

The Prophecy Chapter 2: Even Statues Crumble

Summary: Aurelia prepares for her wedding to Lucius Verus and marries him to save her own life. F

A/N: Thank you for reading this little idea of mine. It literally came to me as I was listening to The Prophecy in the car on the way to work. If you have any requests as to like blurbs or one shots that happen within this universe, please let me know. I also don't do tag lists but, I appreciate the support! Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, forced marriage, talks of death, second guessing, weddings, Geta being an a-hole, use of flashbacks, talking about wanting to die, emotions., and as always, let me know if I missed any.

Flashbacks are labeled as such.

Separator banner credit to: sweetmelodygraphics.

Aurelia’s gaze flitted to the reflection of the gown on the bed, her heart sinking. The fabric seemed to mock her. Every thread, every seam, a reminder of the future she never wanted. She felt suffocated by her obligations—by the weight of what was expected of her. Her father, her mother, the Senate, the people—they had all decided for her. They had all played their parts in crafting her destiny, and now she was nothing more than a pawn in a game of politics.

The door opened behind her with a soft creak, but she didn’t turn. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this—not tonight. Not before the wedding.

Her servant, Flavia, stepped in cautiously, her voice gentle as she spoke. "Your Highness, everything is prepared. The gown... the feast… everything is ready for tomorrow.."

Aurelia stood still for a long moment, her hands gripping the windowsill. The breeze from the open window fluttered her hair around her face, but she didn’t feel the coolness of it. She barely felt anything at all. She was numb.

“Aurelia?” Flavia’s voice was concerned now, soft but insistent.

Aurelia slowly turned toward her, her face unreadable, her eyes tired but defiant. “You were right to be excited for me,” she said bitterly, her words sharper than she intended. "But I’m not." She felt the sting of tears rising in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry in front of anyone—not now.

Flavia hesitated, her brow furrowing with worry. “You don’t have to go through with this. You know that, right? You can—”

“No,” Aurelia interrupted sharply, stepping away from the window, her voice suddenly hoarse. “I have no choice. I am to be the Emperor’s wife, whether I want to be or not. It’s this or die.”

Her words cut through the air, thick with the weight of resignation. She hated them. She hated the fact that her life was no longer hers to control. She had no say in who she married, no say in what her future would be. Her marriage to Geta had been forced upon her, too, but at least she had known him, had grown accustomed to his cruelty. This marriage—this union with Lucius Verus—felt like a strange cruelty of its own.

Flavia opened her mouth to protest again, but Aurelia cut her off with a soft, bitter laugh.

“You don’t understand, Flavia,” she whispered, her hands trembling at her sides. “Geta and Caracalla are dead. The empire is in the hands of men who would never think twice about tearing me apart. I am a puppet. A trophy wife. Tomorrow, I’ll stand before the Senate, and they’ll pretend to care, while they all gawk at the new Empress. And Lucius…” She paused, her voice thick with disdain, “He doesn’t want me. He’s just another part of the game. Another ruler who’ll sit beside me in the throne room and we’ll both pretend to love each other.”

Flavia moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Aurelia’s arm. “He’s not like the others, Aurelia. Lucius—he’s different. He was a gladiator. He knows what it means to fight, to survive. He’s not like the men who’ve ruled before.”

Aurelia’s lips trembled at the words. She wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that Lucius, this gladiator-turned-emperor, was different. That maybe, through some strange twist of fate, he might understand her pain. But the truth was more complicated than that.

She stepped away from Flavia’s touch, pacing slowly toward the edge of the room. Her fingers lightly brushed against the fabric of the wedding gown once more, the weight of it pulling her down. "I don’t want to marry him,” she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. “I don’t want this life. I don’t want any of it."

The words hung in the air, thick with the despair she had not allowed herself to feel until now. There was a part of her, a small, fragile part, that wanted to scream at the heavens. Why me? Why is it always me who has to bear the weight of the empire’s cruelty?

Flavia, sensing the depth of her distress, approached her once more, her voice softer this time, filled with empathy. "You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to. You are strong, Aurelia. You can walk away from this. There are other ways."

Aurelia looked at her, her eyes clouded with pain. “What other ways, Flavia? Do you think the Senate would let me walk away? Do you think I could just... disappear?” Her voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, her composure shattered. "I am nothing but a political pawn in their game. If I don't marry Lucius, I’ll be executed. They’ll kill me and then they’ll put someone else on the throne."

Flavia’s heart broke at the words, but she stood still, not knowing how to comfort her. There was no escape, not really. Not for Aurelia. Not for the woman who had already lost everything.

“I have nothing,” Aurelia whispered, her voice hollow. “Nothing left. Nothing to give. Nothing to hope for. This marriage... this wedding... it’s all a lie.” 

Tears filled Aurelia’s eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, turning away from Flavia. “I wish I could die before tomorrow. Just to be free of all of this.”

Flavia’s breath hitched, panic rising in her chest. She grabbed Aurelia by the shoulders, turning her to face her. “Don’t say that, Aurelia. Don’t even think it! You’re strong. You have so much to live for.”

Aurelia pulled away gently, her voice strained and broken. “What do I have to live for? This empire? This crown?” She gestured helplessly to the room, to the gown she would wear tomorrow, to the life that awaited her. “I never asked for any of this. I didn’t want this.”

She sank into a chair, her head buried in her hands as she trembled. Flavia stood helplessly nearby, watching the woman she had served for so long unravel before her eyes.

And for a moment, the silence between them was unbearable, filled only with the weight of unspoken sorrow.

Aurelia’s thoughts were a whirl of darkness and pain but in the quiet, with the wedding gown looming in the distance, she knew—deep down—that she had to keep moving forward, whether she wanted to or not.

It was marriage or death.

For tomorrow, whether she accepted it or not, she would marry Lucius Verus and she would be Empress once more. 

Flashback ~ Before Her Marriage to Geta

The night before her wedding to Emperor Geta, Aurelia lay in her bed, the cool sheets tangled around her legs, but it was the storm in her mind that kept her awake. She stared up at the high, vaulted ceiling, the shadows of the room stretching long and dark, as if the very walls were closing in on her.

She had barely eaten at dinner. She had hardly spoken. The weight of the marriage, of the future that awaited her, hung like a shroud. Tomorrow, she would walk down the aisle in a gown of white and gold, and before the Senate and the people of Rome, she would become Empress Aurelia, the wife of a man she barely knew, a man she had been told to marry to secure her family's place in the empire.

But Aurelia did not want this. Not this life. Not with him. She never wanted the titles or the riches.

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, but one was clear: she could not go through with it. She would not. If there was any way to escape, to avoid this fate, she would find it. She had to.

She slipped out of bed, her bare feet cold against the marble floor. She had worn the finest silken gown, but now she felt it like a weight—a symbol of the chains that bound her to this life she had not chosen. Moving quickly, she crept to the door, her heart hammering in her chest. The guards would be outside, she knew. They always were. But what if she could slip past them? What if she could leave the palace unnoticed?

Aurelia moved silently through the darkened corridors, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she pressed herself into the shadows, listening carefully for any signs of movement. The stone walls of the palace seemed oppressive in their silence, like the very architecture was conspiring against her.

She reached the door that led to the garden, the place where she used to play as a child, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like a distant memory. The scent of roses filled the air, the sound of the night insects buzzing faintly in the distance. She stepped outside, the cool night air hitting her skin, and felt a fleeting sense of freedom.

But just as she began to move toward the edge of the gardens, a voice sliced through the silence.

“Aurelia.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She froze. Slowly, she turned to find Marcus Cassius, her father, standing in the shadows, his face unreadable but stern. He had been watching her. Of course he had. The guards would never have let her slip by without reporting it.

“You should be in bed,” he said, his voice soft but firm, like the press of a blade against her throat.

“I—” Aurelia began, but her words faltered. She had no excuse. No lie would work.

She was tired of lying.

“I can’t do this, Father,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t marry him. I can’t marry Geta.”

Marcus took a slow step forward, his face illuminated by the moonlight, and Aurelia saw the flicker of something in his eyes—concern, perhaps, or disappointment. It was hard to tell. His features were always so controlled.

“I know this isn’t what you want,” he said, his tone gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something unyielding. “But it is what you must do.”

Aurelia’s chest tightened, her breath coming faster as the weight of his words crushed her. “I don’t care about what I must do!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I care about what I want, what I need. And I need to be free. Free from this. I don’t belong with Geta. I don’t love him. How can you ask me to marry a man I barely know, someone I’ve heard only whispers of? How can you force me into this life?”

Her father’s eyes softened, but the hardness in his face never wavered. “It’s not about love, Aurelia,” he said, his voice almost too calm. “This is about Rome. This is about securing the future of our family. Your marriage to Geta will ensure that we remain in power, that our name remains in the annals of history. You were born to be a part of this.”

Aurelia stepped back, shaking her head in disbelief. “I never asked for this. You’ve always made choices for me, Father, but I’m not a child anymore. I’m not some pawn for you to place in a marriage bed just to secure alliances. I want my own life. I want to choose my own path.”

Marcus’s gaze hardened, his jaw tightening. “You’ve never had a choice, Aurelia. You’ve always known that. The empire does not offer choice to women like you. You are a Cassia, and that means you have a duty. Do you think your mother didn’t know this when she married me? Do you think she didn’t understand that duty? That she didn’t make sacrifices for it?”

Aurelia recoiled, her breath catching in her throat. She had never heard her father speak of her mother with such coldness. It was as if the warmth of her mother’s memory—of her kindness and devotion—was gone, swept away by the weight of duty and power.

“I don’t want to be like her,” Aurelia said, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling at her sides. “I don’t want to give up everything for the empire. I don’t want to be controlled.”

Her father’s expression faltered, just for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. “You have no choice. Neither does Geta. The Senate has already approved this marriage. The people will expect it. If you do not comply, there will be consequences for us both.”

Aurelia’s world felt like it was collapsing around her. The walls of the palace, the stone and marble, seemed to close in on her, suffocating her. “I don’t care about their consequences!” she cried, her voice breaking, but even as she said it, she knew she was lying. She cared about the consequences—she cared deeply. A refusal would mean disgrace, dishonor, and ruin for her family. And for herself.

“You must go through with it,” Marcus said quietly, his voice final. “You will meet Geta tomorrow. You will marry him. And you will do it for Rome. For us. For your future.”

Aurelia’s knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the stone bench in the garden, her hands pressing against her face. The tears she had been holding back for so long finally spilled over, and for the first time in years, she felt utterly, completely powerless.

Her father’s gaze lingered on her, but there was no sympathy in it. Only the cold, unyielding expectation of a Roman nobleman.

“You will learn to accept it,” he said quietly, before turning and walking back toward the palace.

Aurelia was left alone, the sound of his footsteps fading as the weight of her reality set in. She could run. She could scream. But she knew, deep down, that there was no escape. Not for her. Not from the life her father had chosen for her.

Aurelia stood in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection hazy in the soft light of the candle-lit chamber. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the silk robe that clung to her skin. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of jewelry being prepared by her attendants. The noise from outside—laughter, music, the murmur of the Senate gathering for the ceremony—seemed distant, almost foreign to her in this moment of solitude.

Her wedding day. It should have been a day of joy, of hope for a future that could be built in the light of love and partnership. But for her, it felt like the closing of a door she had never intended to open.

The door to the chamber opened slowly, and one of her handmaidens entered, holding the delicate wedding gown in her arms. Aurelia’s eyes flickered toward it for a moment before returning to her own reflection. The gown was a brilliant red, trimmed with gold thread, the fabric soft and weightless like a dream. The delicate embroidery along the hem and neckline sparkled faintly in the light—symbols of Rome's glory, of the empire's future that was now her responsibility, and her burden.

"Aurelia?" The handmaid's voice was gentle, tentative, as if unsure whether to interrupt her mistress's thoughts.

Aurelia turned, giving her a tight, thin-lipped smile. "Yes, Flavia?"

"The gown is ready to don, Empress. Shall I help you?" The woman’s gaze was respectful, but there was something else there too—a flicker of sympathy that Aurelia couldn’t bear to acknowledge.

Aurelia swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want sympathy. She didn’t want pity. She wanted to scream, to break something, to tear off this crown of thorns that Rome had placed on her head. But she did none of that. She simply nodded.

"Yes," she said softly, turning her back to the mirror so Antonia could help her slip out of the robe and into the wedding gown.

The cold air of the room pricked at her skin as she stood there, exposed, while her handmaiden adjusted the dress. The fabric felt like it was suffocating her, the layers of fine silk pressing against her ribs, wrapping around her like a prison. Every movement she made seemed to tighten the knot in her chest, that feeling of being trapped.

“Do you want to wear your crown?” Antonia asked quietly as she fastened the gown with a delicate clasp at the back.

Aurelia’s eyes closed for a moment, the thought of the crown heavy in her mind. It was an ancient piece, crafted with intricate gold filigree and precious stones, a symbol of imperial power. It had once been worn by the great empresses of Rome, and now it would sit atop her head—whether she liked it or not.

But no. Not today.

“Not yet,” Aurelia replied with a sigh, her voice flat. She didn’t need the crown to feel the weight of this marriage. The crown would only serve as a reminder of the chains that now bound her to Lucius.

The handmaiden gave a small nod and moved to prepare the rest of the ensemble. Aurelia looked back at her reflection, her eyes scanning her face, her chestnut brown hair, now expertly arranged in a complicated updo, twisted with strands of gold. The gold accents in her gown glinted, catching the light like cruel promises.

Her heart thudded in her chest. It was not fear that made her body tense, nor anxiety over the marriage itself. It was the overwhelming weight of her own complicity. She was walking into this union with her eyes wide open. She knew what this would mean for her. For her future. For her identity.

"I should be happy," she murmured to herself. "I should be proud."

But she wasn’t.

She wasn’t anything but resigned.

She had spent her life surrounded by men who used their power for their own gain—first Geta, then Father, and now Lucius. Each had taken something from her. Her love. Her trust. Her belief in what a marriage could be. Now, this marriage would be no different. Lucius was no Geta, certainly, but the coldness that resided between them was something that neither of them could escape. He may have been the son of Lucilla, the true heir to the throne, but she knew him only as a gladiator—someone who had fought his way to power, someone who had been shaped by violence and bloodshed.

The door creaked again, and another handmaiden entered, this one carrying the veil that would cover her face. Aurelia stood still as it was gently placed over her head. She let the fabric fall into place, the lace soft against her skin. It was beautiful, but suffocating.

“You look stunning, Empress,” Antonia whispered, as if her words would somehow erase the tension in the room.

Aurelia didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, to pretend for even a moment that this day was anything other than the beginning of something that she had not chosen.

The heavy silence settled between them, the air thick with the weight of her decision. The marriage would proceed. The ceremony would go on. She would stand by Lucius’s side. She would wear the crown, and she would endure.

In a fleeting moment, as the last of the attendants left the room to give her space, Aurelia allowed herself one last thought: Perhaps, somewhere in the depths of her heart, she still longed for a different life. A life where she was not bound by duty, not made to be the symbol of an empire, not forced into a marriage for the sake of political alliances.

But as the clock ticked, the reality of her situation gripped her again, cold and unyielding.

This was not her choice. Not really.

She was an empress and empresses did not have the luxury of choice.

Aurelia stepped toward the door, the faint sound of the wedding procession echoing in the halls of the palace. She walked down the corridors, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors, her breath steady. Her hands, now trembling once more, gripped the edges of her gown. She could feel her heart race. But she kept her face neutral, resolute.

The doors to the grand hall opened, and before her, in the vastness of the room, stood Lucius—waiting for her. The air buzzed with anticipation.

And she, Aurelia, stood at the threshold, ready to step into her new life.

The price of power. The price of survival.

And, most of all, the price of being an empress.

The grand hall of the imperial palace was bathed in golden light, its columns adorned with rich purple tapestries and intricate carvings that had witnessed countless ceremonies of wealth and power. But today, this sacred space seemed to pulse with an air of something darker—something forged by the sword, blood, and vengeance.

Aurelia Carina Cassia stood near the altar, her breath shallow and her body stiff with anger, her eyes dark and haunted as she gazed out over the sea of guests. Senators, generals, and various figures of power from across the Empire filled the space, their murmurs low and expectant. It was meant to be a celebration of Rome’s new era, but for her, it felt like a bitter mockery.

Her heart still ached for Geta, her late husband. Cruel though he had been, she had found a way to love him—a love that had never been returned but existed all the same. Now, the man who had taken his place as Emperor, Lucius Verus, stood in front of her.

Lucius Verus. He was unlike anything she had imagined. A gladiator. A slave. And yet, he bore the blood of the true Imperial line. He was her captor and her future husband, thrust into this role by the whims of power. He had murdered Macrinus, the usurper who had orchestrated the deaths of her first husband and his brother Caracalla, but in his victory, there was no joy—only a quiet fury that matched her own.

He stood tall and commanding, his piercing blue eyes scanning her face with an intensity that unsettled her. He was dressed in the traditional garb of an emperor, but his bearing—the broad shoulders, the ruggedness, the battle-worn look—betrayed his humble origins. He had spent most of his time in Rome now in the blood-soaked sands, fighting for survival, earning his freedom through the same violence that had stolen his childhood.

He was, in a sense, a mirror to her own loss. She, too, had been forced to survive in a world she could never control.

And now they were to be joined in marriage, a union that was born not of love, but of survival.

The officiant, a high-ranking priestess, gestured for them to stand at the center of the room, her voice smooth and practiced as she spoke the traditional words of union. Her gaze flickered between the two, noting the tension in their posture, the unwillingness that clung to them like a dark cloud.

Aurelia’s hands trembled as she reached out to take the hand of her new husband. His palm was rough and calloused, the grip firm but not comforting. She could feel the history of his life in his touch—years of hardship, bloodshed, and struggle. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but it was enough to remind her that despite all that had happened, they were bound by something now. A shared future of power, of control, and of the very Empire that had destroyed their lives.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded, the ceremony continuing in its formalities, yet her mind was far from the words being spoken. She thought of the fateful choice she had been given: marry Lucius Verus or face execution. It was a choice she had made out of necessity, but every fiber of her being screamed in defiance. She had loved Geta, and in that love, she had found a strange semblance of purpose, even if it had been a hollow one. Now, that love had been torn from her, and she was left with a man she neither knew nor cared to know.

Lucius, for his part, said nothing. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something that mirrored her own anger. Perhaps it was the knowledge that neither of them had been given the luxury of choice, that their fates had been decided by forces greater than themselves.

The priestess continued with the vows, each word falling like the sound of a hammer on stone. As Lucius Verus spoke his vows, his voice was steady, though there was a quiet intensity beneath it, as if he were speaking not just to Aurelia but to the Empire itself, declaring his authority, his claim to this throne. He had killed Macrinus for the very right to stand where he was now. And she was his symbol of legitimacy, the last link to the imperial bloodline of the old regime.

Her turn came, and for a moment, she hesitated. The weight of what this marriage meant pressed down on her, the reality of her new life settling in. There was no love to offer him. No affection. Just the remnants of a broken loyalty to a man who had never truly loved her.

“I vow,” she said, her voice cold, “to stand by your side, as is my duty. I vow to give you the Empire that you now rule, for what it is worth. But know this, Lucius Verus—there will be no affection, no love between us. Only power. Only ambition.”

For a heartbeat, there was silence. The room held its breath.

Lucius’s blue eyes bored into hers, and for a long moment, she thought he might challenge her words, perhaps even reject her defiance. Instead, he simply nodded, as if he had already anticipated it.

“We will rule together,” he said, his voice steady and unwavering. “There is no room for weakness in Rome.”

And with that, the ceremony was complete.

As they turned to face the assembled guests, the crowd erupted into applause, their faces masks of politeness, their hands clapping with enthusiasm. The new emperor and his empress stood together, united in a marriage that neither had chosen but both were bound by. Aurelia could feel the coldness of her own heart as she stood there beside him, the weight of the imperial crown now heavy on her brow.

Her life, her future, was now irrevocably linked to this man, this gladiator-turned-emperor, whose blue eyes hid more secrets than she would ever be able to unravel. But as they walked down the aisle, side by side, she knew one thing for certain: in the world of power, there could be no true love. Only survival. Only Empire. Only Rome. Only duty.

Flashback ~ The Wedding To Geta

The sun was setting over Rome, casting a soft golden glow over the city that stretched out below the Palatine Hill. Aurelia stood before a tall mirror, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the folds of her wedding dress—a gown of delicate silk and rich embroidery that shimmered in the fading light. The dress, fit for an empress, was crafted from the finest materials, but it felt heavy against her skin. Every stitch, every detail, reminded her of the weight of the day, of the promise she was about to make, and the life she was about to step into.

Her reflection stared back at her, but she barely recognized the woman in the mirror. Gone was the spirited young woman she had been before her marriage was arranged. Gone was the girl who had dreamed of love and adventure. In her place stood a woman bound by duty—her fate sealed by the politics of empire, her future written in the cold, unfeeling hand of power.

Aurelia closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a steadying breath. She would have preferred to wait, to delay this moment, to take time to come to terms with the reality of her marriage. But there was no time. The people expected it. The Senate demanded it. And her father, always the pragmatist, had seen the union as an opportunity for political gain—an alliance that would strengthen the family name.

"Are you ready?" came a voice, breaking her reverie. It was her father, standing in the doorway of her chamber. His expression was unreadable, as it always was, but there was something behind his eyes—a flicker of concern, perhaps, or maybe guilt. He had done what was necessary. But Aurelia knew it had not been his choice either.

She forced a smile, the kind of smile she had perfected long ago when she was a child trying to please her father. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

Her father’s eyes softened for just a moment before he nodded. "You will be Empress. You know what that means, Aurelia. It’s a responsibility to Rome. To the future. Remember all that your mother and I have taught you."

Aurelia nodded, her throat tightening. Her future was already laid out for her, and it was not a future she had chosen. But she had always known that in the Roman world, duty outweighed personal desire. She was a woman of privilege, yes, but she was also a pawn in a game of power and politics.

The doors to the chamber opened, and Aurelia’s attendants entered, guiding her to the grand hall where the wedding would take place. The hall was massive, filled with marble columns and the scent of fresh flowers, the long tables draped in crimson cloths. Guests had already arrived, dressed in their finest to witness the union of the Emperor and the daughter of a noble family. But none of it felt real to Aurelia. It all felt distant, a pageant for the empire’s elite, a performance where she was expected to play her role.

Her heart beat in her chest, faster than it had been moments ago. Not from excitement, but from a deep, gnawing apprehension. This man— Emperor Geta—would be her husband. A man who had already shown her nothing but coldness and indifference. Their marriage, she knew, was not one built on affection or love but on the weight of imperial necessity.

As she entered the hall, she could feel the eyes of the guests on her, their gazes heavy, judging. The high-ranking senators, the nobles of Rome, all gathered to witness the consolidation of power that this marriage represented. But Aurelia’s mind was elsewhere, focused on the figure at the end of the long aisle.

Emperor Geta stood there, his back straight, his expression impassive. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his tunic was rich with gold embroidery, the imperial seal shining brightly on his chest. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met hers briefly as she walked toward him. For a moment, there was a flicker—an almost imperceptible shift in his gaze—but it was gone before Aurelia could understand it.

His presence was like a shadow, looming over her, a reminder of what was to come. He was not cruel—at least, not outwardly—but there was a coldness in him, an emotional distance that made her uneasy. The idea of this man being her husband was foreign, unsettling. And yet, as the ceremony began, she knew there was no turning back.

The high priest stepped forward, his voice solemn as he began the traditional rites. Aurelia’s gaze remained fixed on Geta, but he was unmoved. His lips were set in a firm line, his expression a mask of indifference. He did not seem to care for the ceremony, nor did he seem to care for her.

"Do you, Emperor Geta, take Aurelia Carina Cassia to be your wife, to rule beside you in both marriage and in empire, in joy and in hardship, in life and in death?" the priest asked.

Geta’s voice was low, almost detached. "I do."

Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat. He spoke the words with no passion, no conviction, as though the act was nothing more than a formality to be checked off the list. A formality for the empire.

Then it was her turn.

"Aurelia Carina Cassia," the priest said, turning his gaze to her. "Do you take Emperor Geta, to be your husband, to join with him in marriage, in rule, in life, and in death?"

Her lips parted, but for a long moment, no sound came out. Her mind swirled with conflicting thoughts—fear, doubt, and resignation. She had no choice. There was no turning back. The empire was watching her.

"I do," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

The ceremony continued, the exchange of vows, the binding of rings, the symbolic gestures of unity. But even as the final prayers were spoken and the crowd cheered, Aurelia felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of emptiness. She was a wife, yes, but not in the way she had imagined. She was a wife in name, a wife to a man who would never truly love her.

As the final blessing was given, Geta turned to her, offering her his arm as he led her from the altar. His eyes met hers for a moment, and in the fleeting seconds, Aurelia saw something there—something cold, something distant. But she couldn’t place it. She wasn’t sure if it was pity, disdain, or something else entirely. But it didn’t matter.

They were married now. The empire will have its heirs. The empire had its future.

They walked together, side by side, but it felt as though they were walking in separate worlds, worlds that had collided for the sake of duty, of power, of an empire that demanded much and offered little in return.

As Aurelia took her place at his side, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future would hold for her in this cold, loveless marriage. Would she ever find warmth in his eyes? Or would she forever remain a figure beside him, a silent witness to the empire’s unyielding march?

In the end, she knew one thing for certain: the wedding had been the beginning of a new life, but it had not been the beginning of love.

The grand dining hall of the imperial palace was a breathtaking sight, adorned with lavish tapestries depicting the heroic deeds of the emperor's past. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, honeyed wine, and exotic spices, while gilded chandeliers cast their warm glow over the guests, whose laughter and chatter echoed off the marble walls. The feast had begun in earnest, but for Aurelia, it felt like an insufferable pageantry, an endless display of opulence that was as hollow as her own heart.

The high table, where she and Lucius Verus now sat side by side, was elevated above the sea of guests, an uncomfortable reminder of the power that now bound them together. At one end of the table sat the new Emperor of Rome, his piercing blue eyes cold and distant, as if he were already surveying the entire Empire with an authority that didn’t need to be spoken. At the other end, Aurelia sat stiffly, her hands clenched in her lap beneath the rich folds of her gown, unable to fully appreciate the luxury that surrounded her. She had been made Empress again, yes, but it was a title that seemed to mock her more than anything else. She had no love for Lucius Verus—her husband only in name—yet here she was, forced to play the part, to smile and pretend that this was all as it should be.

Her gown shimmered beneath the flickering candlelight. It was the color of Rome’s old blood—the blood of emperors, of gladiators, and of countless men and women who had fought for survival. She hated the irony of it all.

Lucius, for his part, barely spoke. His jaw was set, his expression unreadable. He lifted his goblet of wine to his lips and took a long drink, his eyes briefly meeting hers, but only for a second. The tension between them was palpable, like an invisible thread pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

The servants moved around the table with practiced efficiency, placing golden platters of roasted boar, venison, and lamb, their skins crackling with crisp fat, alongside bowls of fresh fruits—pomegranates, figs, and clusters of grapes—and loaves of freshly baked bread. An assortment of cheeses and honeyed pastries were brought in, and the scent of wine—sweet, tart, and heady—filled the air. Flutists played softly in the background, and a troupe of dancers from the East began a slow, sensuous dance, their silks flowing as they moved in perfect harmony with the music.

But despite the abundance of food and drink, despite the spectacle unfolding before her, Aurelia could not enjoy a single moment. Her mind swam with bitter thoughts: memories of Geta, the brutal coldness of his reign, his violence—yet, within that cruelty, she had found something to hold on to, something that had made him hers, even if only in the darkest corners of her heart.

She was brought back to the present by a low voice beside her.

"Not hungry?" Lucius Verus’s voice was quieter than before, his words heavy with something unreadable. It was not a question of concern, but one of curiosity, or perhaps challenge.

Aurelia turned toward him, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes were sharp and intent, as though he were studying her, as though she were the next opponent to be defeated in his personal arena.

"I’m not hungry," she replied, her voice cool, and for a moment, their eyes locked, the silence between them thick and heavy.

Lucius’s lips tightened, though it wasn’t in anger. It was more a quiet acknowledgment of the tension between them. He turned his gaze back to the feast and picked up a roasted fig, placing it delicately in his mouth. There was something almost calculated about his movements, as if every action were part of a larger strategy.

Around them, the feast continued with laughter and revelry. A senator cracked a joke, a group of soldiers clinked their goblets together in a celebratory toast, and a young noblewoman tried to engage Lucius in conversation about the new laws he would enact. Yet, despite the outward merriment, there was an underlying current of unease. The guests were not so naïve as to ignore the strange and uneasy marriage that had just been sealed in the hall behind them.

Lucius shifted slightly in his seat, as though feeling the weight of the eyes that turned toward him.

"You don’t have to pretend," he said, breaking the silence again, his voice low and almost resigned. "I know why you’re here. You don’t have to like it."

Aurelia’s lips tightened at his words, but there was no anger in them. It was merely truth, blunt and direct, as always. She looked down at her hands, unwilling to meet his gaze again.

"I don’t pretend," she replied softly, though she knew the truth of her own hypocrisy. She was pretending, of course. Pretending that she didn’t care. Pretending that this was all something she could endure.

"Then why sit through this?" Lucius asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why endure this charade?"

Aurelia raised her eyes to his once more, meeting his gaze squarely. For a moment, she wanted to say because it’s all I have left, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she said only, “Because I have no choice, just as you have no choice.”

For a heartbeat, Lucius said nothing. He stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time—truly seeing her. His gaze was piercing, intense, yet something flickered in those deep blue eyes. Perhaps it was understanding, perhaps it was something more, but Aurelia could not bring herself to interpret it.

A loud cheer broke the silence, and Aurelia turned toward the noise. The guests were raising their cups in a toast, celebrating the new Emperor and Empress, raising their voices in the name of Roman glory. It was an exultant sound, but it grated on her nerves, like the clanging of swords against stone.

"To Lucius Verus, Emperor of Rome!" a voice cried from the crowd.

"And to Aurelia Carina Cassia, Empress of Rome!" another echoed.

The room erupted in applause, and for a moment, the noise drowned out everything else. Aurelia didn’t raise her glass. Instead, she simply sat there, her hands folded in her lap, her thoughts swirling in dark circles.

Lucius raised his goblet, the flickering light from the candles catching in the deep blue of his eyes, but he did not look at her when he spoke.

"To Rome," he said simply, his voice carrying authority that silenced even the loudest of voices.

The crowd echoed his words, and for the briefest of moments, Aurelia felt the weight of the empire—its triumphs, its cruelties, and its endless hunger for power. It was the weight she had inherited, and it was a weight that would forever bind her to Lucius Verus.

For better or for worse, she was now his. And he was hers.

The feast continued around them, but for both of them, it had already ended. 

The grand banquet hall was alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets, but amid the festivity, there was a tension that seemed to weave itself into the very air. The feast had stretched on for hours, but now the guests were beginning to murmur in anticipation as the next part of the evening approached. The moment that every wedding in Rome demanded—the first dance.

Aurelia Carina Cassia stood frozen at the edge of the hall, her gown heavy around her, the rich crimson fabric swishing as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could feel the weight of every eye in the room, the glances that flicked between her and Lucius Verus, the new Emperor of Rome, her husband by forced choice. He was already standing at the center of the room, his posture perfect, his jaw set in that all-too-familiar way of someone who had long since learned to suppress any sign of weakness.

They were supposed to dance. They were supposed to take the center of the room and spin in graceful circles, the crowd watching and applauding as if this were a storybook wedding. But Aurelia didn’t feel like a princess or a queen. She felt like a prisoner.

Her eyes flicked nervously to the musicians at the far end of the room, their instruments ready, their gazes expectant. They were waiting for her to take the first step, to move toward Lucius and begin the ritual. Her chest tightened with the weight of it. She couldn’t do this. Not with him. Not when every inch of her body wanted to scream in defiance.

Lucius turned toward her, his gaze cool but unreadable, like a glacier that had been worn smooth by the passage of time. He was not nervous. Of course, he wasn’t. A gladiator, a warrior forged in blood, who had danced with death more times than he could count. What was a simple waltz to a man who had survived arenas and emperors’ plots?

"You’re stalling," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the growing hum of the room.

Aurelia didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t. She simply stared at him, that same gnawing bitterness rising within her. She was trapped, caught in the unrelenting gears of this machine—this Empire, this marriage. And there was nothing she could do to escape it.

His eyes softened just the slightest bit, but it wasn’t with warmth. It was a recognition of the struggle she was facing, though he would never voice it aloud. Lucius knew what it was to be trapped in chains, though his were made of blood and iron, not silk and ceremony.

When he spoke again, his words were measured, as though he were giving her a final choice.

"You don’t have to like it. But we have to do this, for Rome." His words weren’t a command; they were simply a fact, one that neither of them could escape.

Aurelia took a sharp breath and glanced back at the crowd. She could feel their eyes on her, the heat of their stares burning into her skin. They were waiting for their Empress to play her part, to show the world that Rome was strong, unified under the rule of its new Emperor. She had no choice. She could feel the weight of it in the pit of her stomach.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back, trying to summon whatever dignity she had left, and began to walk toward Lucius. Each step felt like an eternity. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor, the sound strangely amplified in the stillness that had fallen over the room. Lucius didn’t move, didn’t step forward to meet her. He simply waited, his posture as commanding as ever.

When she reached him, there was a brief, uncomfortable pause. He regarded her with those piercing blue eyes, his expression unreadable. Aurelia wanted to say something—anything—to break the silence. To tell him that she would never be the obedient bride he expected her to be. But instead, she lifted her chin, her jaw set in defiance, and placed her hand on his shoulder, offering him the coldest, most formal smile she could muster.

Lucius’s hand slid around her waist, the touch firm but not intimate. It was a touch that spoke of duty, not desire. He began to guide her into the first slow steps of the dance, his movements practiced and smooth, as though he had done this a thousand times before. Aurelia resisted the instinct to pull away, to lash out, but it was harder than she anticipated.

The music swirled around them, the sounds of the flutes and strings filling the room with a kind of ethereal, haunting beauty. The guests began to murmur, some of them leaning in to catch a glimpse of their new rulers, while others smiled and whispered praises. Aurelia could feel their eyes, their judgments, and it made her skin crawl. This was their moment, a moment they had all been waiting for.

Lucius’s grip tightened just slightly around her waist as they moved in time with the music. The movement was mechanical, almost rehearsed. She could feel the tension between them—an invisible barrier neither of them had the will or the desire to cross. Neither of them spoke. The only sound between them was the soft rustle of her gown as they moved in an intricate, slow circle.

Aurelia’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the dance itself that bothered her—it was the feeling of being so close to him, so exposed. His scent, sharp and masculine, filled her senses, and she had to fight not to recoil. The proximity, the enforced intimacy, made her stomach churn.

Lucius seemed to sense her discomfort, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he gave a small, barely perceptible nod, as though acknowledging the weight of the situation. Aurelia couldn’t tell if it was sympathy, amusement, or something else entirely.

The music shifted, becoming faster, more energetic, but still they danced—two figures moving through the motions, a king and queen of an empire built on blood, sweat, and lies. Their feet moved in perfect time, yet there was a palpable distance between them, a gulf that no amount of waltzing could bridge. It wasn’t the graceful, romantic affair the guests had expected. It was a dance of survival. A dance of power.

Aurelia’s mind raced with thoughts of the life she had lost, the man she had loved, and the empire that had torn it all apart. She fought the urge to pull away from Lucius, but there was no escaping this moment. They were bound by more than the silk of her gown or the glittering jewels in her hair. They were bound by the expectations of Rome, by the empire that had demanded this union, this performance.

And so they danced. Neither of them truly present, both lost in the performance. And the crowd watched, applauded, and whispered their approval, as the two of them continued the endless charade that had begun with a marriage forged in blood.

When the dance finally ended, and the last notes of the music drifted into silence, Aurelia was left breathless. Her chest rose and fell with the exertion of holding herself together, and she quickly stepped back, her hand falling from his shoulder. The applause was polite, distant, but it was nothing compared to the silence between them now.

Lucius’s eyes met hers for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. His lips parted as though he might say something, but then he simply nodded.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet, though the words seemed hollow to her ears.

Aurelia didn’t answer. She simply gave him a stiff nod in return, the weight of the crown upon her head heavier than ever before.

Then, she turned and walked away, the crowd parting for her like water parting for a stone, their whispers now louder, more insistent but she didn’t care. All that mattered now was the emptiness she felt inside and the weight of the empire that bound her to a man she would never love.

[demon-country]

We haven't seen much of Octavia and Stella thus far in the series, because up until now almost everything about Stolas and the characters attached to him (other than Blitz) has only been shown if it's plot relevant. But now, with Stolas officially in the gang, the loss of his relationship with Octavia is going to be a major source of drama. Her character growth, living situation, and relationship with her mother are now plot relevant, so we will be seeing more of how she is coping without him there to love and protect her. And I already know it's going to kill me inside.

Octavia is miserable, grieving, and feels abandoned, betrayed, and guilty for being the reason Stolas put up with Stella for so long (what she doesn't realize, yet, is that without her Stolas probably wouldn't have tried for a divorce. In all likelihood, given what we've seen so far, he'd have made his bid for freedom by way of suicide). And instead of a loving parent to help her work through those complicated and overwhelming feelings, she has Stella, who is abusive and controlling. And although she probably does love Octavia on some level, she has shown herself to be a piss poor mother who cares more about getting her petty revenge than she does about her daughter's happiness and wellbeing.

I sincerely hope that Octavia has friends, because her story is not destined to be a happy one for quite some time to come. She is going to be getting a number of terrible reality checks and revelations that will leave her current worldview, sense of self, and way of life irreparably shattered. Any sense of stability she still has left will be gone, many of her happy memories will be tainted by the rot her mother's abuse caused, and a lot of her freedoms - like her freedom of expression - will likely be taken away.

I feel so, so bad for her. She will soon be a legal adult, but that does not mean she isn't young and vulnerable. Her father cannot protect her now unless she goes to him, and although I'm sure he will continue to reach out to her to the best of his ability - per Blitz's advice, and potentially with Loona as a proxy - she has to be willing to take that step herself. He cannot take it for her.

And that is going to be very difficult for her. She already feels guilty and like she was a burden to him, which will be an emotional obstacle on its own, but now her abusive mother has sole custody of her, and unfortunately for Octavia, her last stunt of protecting her father will probably earn her the ire of both her mother and uncle. She did, after all, just make her uncle look like a complete fool by so effortlessly overpowering him.

And while Andrealphus likely won't be inclined to tell Stella about that particular humiliation just yet, there's nothing stopping that manipulative motherfucker from telling her that Octavia attempted to sneak out to go meet her father (which is easily deduced on his part by the fact that she came from the opposite direction of the palace, right on the heels of Stolas' cavalry). Given her efforts to keep them from talking to each other, I can't see Stella taking that too well, and without her old punching bag to take her frustration out on it's not a stretch to think that she might eventually turn on Octavia. Abusive relationships are notoriously hard to escape from for many reasons - which is another factor that prevented Stolas from doing so earlier - so if that does happen then it will likely also be a struggle for her.

Can someone who isn't Stella or anyone trying to use her, please give Octavia a hug and some support? She is going to sorely need it, because she is now more alone than ever.

[fakeusernamelol]

Shermie: Ma, what happened to father..?

Stan: Eh, you know him, he's off on business - now, do ya still wanna cut your hair short, munchkin?

Shermie: Father's letting me?! :D

Stan: Eh, nevermind him, it's your hair, not his...

Shermie: Okay!!! :D

OMFG THIS ONE IS BEAUTIFUL INTERACTIONS YESSS 🤩🤩🤩���💖💖💖 i will make a draw of this but i already owe one and i have a lot so say about this particularly so sorry but im about to yap a lot....🙇🙇 (Tw: Transphobia, Mysoginy and abuse you know 🤷)

Shermie doesn't know it but in this bad ending he's lucky af lol. I mean, Ford's not the best dad lol, he's mediocre at best, always busy with his research so prefers to leave the job to take care of the kids to Stan, not even when they were babies ford helped Stanley with them (Fiddleford did way much than him lol) not even when they get bigger Ford try to be more closer to them, Shermie and Mariana didn't really know much about Ford, The father-kid moments they have had have been so few that they do not remember them well other than eating together or reading a book with him. They only saw him in the mornings having breakfast, sometimes coming out of his basement walking around the shack or going outside to the woods and coming out at night right before stanley quickly sent them to their room and put a small music box to put them to sleep and for absolutely no other reason 😉

The only thing they DID know about Ford was that he was a strict man, for some reason didn't like it to be called Pa (He would get very annoyed if any of them called him that...) so they were only allowed to call him father or at best Dad, and Dad was the one who decided everything. If they wanted that cool cereal with marshmallows they will have to ask their father permission and if he didn't allowed then there was nothing to do, no matter if ma allowed it. A new toy, new clothes, a new haircut It was always answered with « Ask your father first. »

Shermie always wanted a haircut, he was just 10 so he didn't really know yet what he actually was but he did know that he didn't like being so girly unlike his twin (bows look better on his neck, not on his head!) but no matter what he did ford always said no. He tried helping with cleaning, doing all his homework, getting good grades, organizing his room but anyway ford said no! Sometimes he insisted more than necessary, making Ford scream at him and ending up crying on his Ma's lap.

That was one of the few things that did pissed off Stanley, He could put up with Ford's abuse because he was already used to holding back on things because he told him to but just seeing how his little kid cried for the same simple thing he has been wishing made him sick

Now that ford was gone, sure he needed to get him back (he was still very emotionally dependent on him because you know they are the fucked up brothers 😗) but while he wasn't here there was no one to told them what to do, he finally could do what he wanted and have a voice for their kids.

Shermie's going to be loved for sure, Stanley's will make sure he Will never have to get through the things he has gone, when shermie's a teenager they could get through their transition together in real father-son quality time 🤭🤭

Their kids are happier but stanley suffers even more in this au lol you win something you lost something 😗

[prodixal]

"Alright Cersha, if it pleases you to get worked up over every minor inconvenience I shall not stand in your way." she was exhausting, truly. Her vigilance, and constant need to stay ahead of everything and everyone was tiresome to observe -- he could only imagine how much more tiresome it must've been to live. But at this point, Varyn supposed if his dear sister did not have anything to worry about, she would simply explode. Or implode. Collapse, cease to exist. "You resemble our lord father more every day. Perhaps if you were to truly impress your marriage prospect you ought to take a step back and assume some favourable traits of our late mother. You are far too cold and much too sharp -- I cannot imagine being stuck in a marriage with you and hoping it would bring up any sort of happiness."

Varyn wasn't trying to be cruel. In fact, he was trying to be helpful. With wine between his lips, smoothing out his throat, he reminded himself no one else would dare voice these opinions to her face.

"You are smarter than I, dear sister, we are both aware -- but I feel I must remind you that no matter how logical and favourable the arrangement of marriage might be, those who have souls -- and 'm speaking of Vaelora here, not you -- long for some sort of love and connection and intimacy, on a deeper, perhaps even a subconscious level." he is being brutally honest, the kind of honesty he only ever afforded his sister. Showing a side of himself, only she ever got to see. "You may know everything there is to know of Vaelora, and say all the right words. You may present yourself, our family, our gold, our usefulness to the crown in the most perfectly packaged manner. But, dear sister -- can you make her love you? Because that --" he taps the table beside him, eyes focused on hers. "That is where true power lies. If you can get them to love you, you can get them to do anything. To overlook anything."

It was a skill, like any other. Varyn knew a thing or two when it came to love. He knew how to inspire it, how to use his charisma, his charms, his words to get strings of other peoples hearts to attach to his own. He knew how to look a woman in the eye, and tell her whatever it is she wanted to hear. And he knew, above all else, how to stay detached. For love was only there for the taking. Giving it -- it was too great a risk. The kind of risk he was not willing to take. He would not fall prey to.

"I've never asked. But what is it you want Cer? Power, I understand. But that cannot be all, surely?"

When the topic switched back to him, he finished his cup and gestured to the chair beside him. She would need to be sat down for this. He poured himself another, and then let a sigh of anxiety he'd carried on for most of the day, lift off his shoulder. He slouched, almost, a rare sight to behold and with his thumb and index finger he quickly pinched the top of his nose before falling into his story.

"You have heard of my exploits in Dorne. I'm sure. Twice I caught your very own spiders in my way, ever watchful." he did not care that his sister had her eyes on him, no matter where he went. He always assumed it brought her ease, knowing his movements. But she did not know...everything. "When I was training, I became acquainted with one Lady Dayne. A southern beauty, just as I like them. Long dark hair, violet eyes, olive skin. I must say, she left me rather breathless." his brows raise and he will speed up the story knowing his sister will hold no patience for poetics. "She did not fall for my charms instantly. Suppose you could say I wore her down. One thing...then another and...well, we are both adults, you can assume how this story should end."

He gives up the cup now, and takes a hold of the bottle instead. "I was growing rather fond of her, so I decided to leave Dorne. I'm sure father would have orchestrated a marriage alliance instantly should he gotten a whiff of our affair, so I did not return home yet." there's a pause. "Then a raven came in the night. Informing me of Lady Daynes unfortunate new...condition." Cersha would understand. "I burnt it."

Leaning forward in the chair, he feels lighter after his admittance. "I put it out of my mind. I am not the first, nor the last lord to sire a noble bastard." it would have been nice if it all just ended there. "All that is to say, Lady Dayne is now here. As is the babe. And I have barely managed to avoid a scene in the gardens by lying to her face I held no knowledge of her...predicament. Needless to say she's bound to find the truth eventually, but until then I should hope to find a way to resolve this situation without sullying our precious name." He had purposefully avoided mentioning the inexplicable bond and connection he felt towards the child. "There. Feel free to scold me now, I should welcome it for once."

Finally, he will relax and switch back to Cershas pressing matter. "What did she say during your meeting? Must have been something to have you feeling so...out of depth?"

" THERE IS A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF ISSUES TO WORRY OVER AT THE MOMENT , VARYN . i assure you i am not seeking them out , they are very clearly there ." cersha bites out in response . she refuses to answer his question however , mostly due to the fact that she'd rather chew off her own foot than acknowledge that her brother is right , especially aloud . so instead cersha merely huffs a frustrated, " but of course there are no issues to you . after all , you close your eyes to them ." sometimes cersha wishes she could do the same . what a pleasure it must be to live thoughtlessly . fools must experience so much peace . she would almost envy them if she didn't deeply pity them . cersha can't help but roll her eyes as her brother continues , a hand moving to smack him on the bicep with an annoyed cluck of her tongue . " and you ?" cersha asks with an arch of her brows . " there are equal parts great beauty and great intellect between telessa and i , and yet all you have is grand confidence and apparently abysmal taste to your name . it is a great wonder why your younger sister is betrothed before you with such qualities under your belt ." cersha makes a point of sighing deeply as she looks out into the distance before the stairs , tiredly adding, " whatever will we do with you ?" in all honesty , cersha doesn't mean any of it but that in itself is irrelevant . in a battle of wit with one's brother the best course of action is to go lower and strike harder , and cersha refuses to lose in that respect . she refuses to lose in any respect truly . and perhaps that is what found her in line to be queen , but it may also very well be what led to her being here , sitting in a stairwell with her brother fretting over factors that she cannot control . it is with quickness that her head sharply turns to varyn as he continues , her glare sharp with instant focus . it is with an efficient shift in her seat that she moves to stare him down , her voice lowering into another hiss as she says , " ... varyn . if you dare to bed any of the targaryen sisters whilst we are quite literally here to announce my betrothal to the eldest of their house i may truly have to consider wringing your neck ." cersha tilts her head to ensure their eyes meet , her gaze intense with warning . " do you hear me ? this is not a jest . i will kill you ."

while cersha may not know nearly as much about vaelora as they would like , she knows much still . whispers of their protectiveness of their siblings was amongst the information that she'd collected , and well , varyn of all people bedding one of them surely would be trigger for such protectiveness . for just an instant she pleads with the gods to spare her . but then varyn continues , and it is as if those same gods laugh in her face . perhaps , it is her own fault for leaving herself at another entity's mercy in the first place . " ... what is it ?" cersha's tone is bland in waiting , her expression already twisted into something strained in anticipation . there is so very little chance that whatever is about to come out of her brother's mouth is good news . as she follows him her mood only sours further . she can feel the beginnings of a headache building up , just at her temples . suddenly , just for an instant , she wishes she were an only child . how peaceful would that be . the thought is left behind with the door closing behind them , but cersha is sure it will return again before their conversation is over . " yes , well , i intend to have control of the latter for as long as it suits me ." cersha replies with a tight smile that quickly drops . after all , it was only useful to do so . there had to be things that vaelora wanted , things that they enjoyed . cersha was quite sure she was beginning to gather an understanding of that , and if she had to sheath herself in lamb skin for a few years or decades to achieve her goals , then so be it . after all , it wasn't like she hadn't already been doing so in some capacity for majority of her life . it truly wouldn't be too grand of a transition . but as varyn offers more cersha can only study him thoughtfully , her gaze considering before she's nodding almost gratefully . " ... let me know what you find ." cersha replies in lieu of a thank you . she moves to fill her own goblet of wine as she says, " thusfar , i have a more than a few whispers and telessa , who is quite close to them ." cersha takes a large enough gulp of wine to be impolite that she truly only allows herself due to the current company . it's only after she swallows that she adds , " however , i feel it is not nearly enough now that i've met them once again ."