#they have a hair bow and braid and the pin at the collar has a skull detail on it

[twilishark]

stapes/ˈsteɪpiːz/

noun

stapes

a small stirrup-shaped bone in the middle ear, transmitting vibrations from the incus to the inner ear.

[owl-of-fandom]

written for @drarrymicrofic prompt: silk wc: 862 | featuring eighth year lesbian drarry getting ready for Yule Ball

Harry can’t believe she let herself be talked into this. Last Yule Ball, back in fourth year was bad enough with all the stress and the danger of mortal peril of the Tournament.

Now she and Draco were dating, steady, girlfriends of two months. So at least finding a date wasn’t a problem this time.

Still she feels ridiculous in her silk dress. She looks at herself critically. The dress is a deep emerald green. It brings out your eyes, Draco has said when she helped pick it out.

But right now, it’s too tight, cutting into her body in all the wrong places; one strap keeps falling off her shoulder; the sash, she tied over her belly makes her feel like she’s about eight years old and five sizes bigger. Her curls just won’t cooperate and already tumble halfway from the updo she spent the better part of an hour on. And her feet already hurt from the black lace-up heels that somehow fit way better in the store.

With a groan she let herself fall back onto her bed, eyes closed, done with the world.

“Here you are,” Draco’s voice comes from the door. “I was worried you were going to stand me up,” she jokes. Her posh accent would’ve made Harry’s blood boil not too long ago, but now it’s almost a comfort in itself in its familiarity.

Harry smiles fondly and sits up.

Draco wears a simple silk slip dress, but in contrast to Harry, it looks effortlessly elegant on her tall, skinny body. The colour’s a frosty blue, which should make her look pale and washed out, but only makes her look more sophisticated, like an actual ice princess. Her silvery blond hair only adds to the elegance, tied back in a long flowy braid that ends low on her back.

The heels of her silver strappy sandals click on the hardwood floor with every step, as she comes to sit beside Harry.

“What’s wrong?” she asks gently, taking Harry’s hand.

“Ugh!” Harry groans again. “You’re so beautiful. And I’m just … meh.”

“Shut up!” Draco snaps. She hasn’t used that tone with Harry in such a long time that it feels like a slap in the face.

Draco seems to realise and squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” she murmurs softly and presses a kiss to Harry’s temple. “You’re beautiful.”

“Not really. Not like you. Elegant like that.”

“Come on, get up. Let me have a look.” Draco pulls her to her feet and places her in front of the mirror.

Immediately both straps of her dress fall down her shoulders and Harry hastily has to hold up the collar so it doesn’t fall to her waist.

Draco hums softly, walking around her. She gently pulls the straps back up and unties the sash, Harry wound so inelegantly around her waist.

With her wand in her hand she twirls around Harry, waving the wand in intricate patterns and pointing it here and there, muttering spells Harry has never heard before.

Harry can feel the dress change and adjust to her body. And only a few moments later Draco steps close behind her. She ties the sash in the back and steps back to survey Harry anew.

She gently pulls the pins from her hair, letting her locks tumble freely around her shoulders.

“Better?” she asks and messes the curls up a little more with soft tugs and ruffles of her fingers.

“Yes,” Harry sighs. She smiles gratefully at her girlfriend and looks at herself. “How do you always do that? You’re amazing!”

The dress now falls loosely, the sash perfectly accentuating her waist and the straps are broader, and have soft ruffles over her shoulders. They’re also tight enough that Harry won’t have to worry about accidentally flashing the whole ballroom. It’s perfect.

Draco giggles and bows elegantly. She then proceeds to take Harry’s hands, pulling her against herself. She easily twirls them through the confined space of the room in a slow dance.

“You’re wonderful,” Harry laughs. “Ready to go?” She reluctantly pulls out of Draco’s embrace.

“Almost,” Draco smiles and kisses her cheek.

“Here, put these on.” She holds out Harry’s ratty trainers.

“What?! But they don’t go with the dress!” Harry protests.

“Who cares?” Draco shoves the shoes into Harry’s hands. “You’re Harry bloody Potter! You of all people are allowed to wear whatever you want!” She kneels before Harry and quickly undoes the clasps on her heels. “And,” she looks up at Harry, her eyes gleaming mischievously, “I want to dance with my girlfriend all night. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I had to find someone else to dance with because your feet hurt too much?”

Harry blushes as she holds Draco’s hands for balance and steps out of her shoes. Draco stands slowly, trailing her fingertips up Harry’s bare legs, making her shiver. Once she stands, Draco presses a soft kiss to her lips.

Harry shrugs on the trainers and hand in hand they leave for the ball. She’s still nervous, but also excited. She knows, with Draco by her side, everything will be alright.

[dragon-teethh]

Heimdall/Kratos

!!NSFW!!

Warnings: choking, slight food play, implied voyerism, hair pulling

Notes: I haven’t written in forever so keep that in mind, I also have no idea now to do the read more thing on my iPad so once I figure that out it’ll be better for all of us lmao

It’s been a while since Kratos has invited Heimdall to join him in Sindri’s house, it did take a little negation on his part for it to be allowed though. Something Kratos has quickly picked up on is how many apples Heimdall goes through in just one day alone, and in the whole time he’s been living with the Aesir god he’s eaten at least four full bushels of apples.

“How can you eat so many apples in one day?” Atreus asks Heimdall in a light tone.

“Having somebody to cut and peel them for me helps, means I get the easy job.” Heimdall replies, looking over to Kratos who’s standing at the counter on the far wall of the common room, cutting and peeling the apples Heimdall had requested.

“Could you hurry up Kratos? Please.” Heim huffed, hoping Atreus wouldn’t keep trying to talk to him.

“You will get them when they’re ready, do not rush me.” Kratos growls back, knowing if he actually rushes Heimdall would complain, and he wouldn’t get a kiss for his craftsmanship.

“Why do you sleep in the same room as dad? There’s another spare room you can have.” Atreus asks innocently, having almost no clue of what the two gods do in their free time.

“Well Atreus, I spend most of my nights pinned under him or on his lap.” Heimdall says with a smirk on his face, glancing over to Kratos who has completely stopped his task to process what his lover had said to his son.

“What did you say to him?“ Kratos asks in a low tone as he turns to face Heimdall.

“Only what he asked me to.” He purrs back, looking Kratos in the eyes.

“Atreus, leave. I do not care where you go, but do not come back till I come to get you.” Kratos tells the boy, watching him glance between the two gods,then nods and leaves, grabbing his bow on the way out.

Kratos storms over to where his lover was sitting, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling him up so he’s standing just on his toes.

“What the hell are you thinking telling my boy that?” He barks, shaking Heimdall a tad in the process to push the point.

Before Heimdall had any time to answer, let alone process the question Kratos was dragging him to their shared room. He threw the smaller god onto the bed, glaring at him before exiting to grab the apple slices.

“Take everything off. Now.” Kratos orders, as he sits on the bed, Heimdall in front of him making a show of it all.

“I do not have time for your games, Heimdall.” He grumbles, watching Heimdall quickly remove the rest of his clothing and tossing it all in front of the closed door of their room.

Heimdall approached Kratos, standing between his strong legs. Kratos grabs his face and pulls him down, forcing him to his knees.

“Open.” He orders, watching as Heimdall opens his mouth and lets his tongue roll out. Kratos placed an apple slice on his tongue.

“Eat it.” He demands, keeping his eyes on the god’s mouth, watching the way he closes his mouth with a look of confusion on his face.

Heimdall chews the apple slice, trying to understand what Kratos has planned, but he knew if he used his foresight there’d be hell to pay. He looked down shyly, realizing how harsh the other god’s gaze really was.

“Look at me.” Kratos demanded, grabbing Heimdall’s neatly braided hair and pulling his head up so he was looking back at him. The harsh tug caused Heimdall to huff a light moan, and Kratos noticed the way his partner’s dick twitched at his actions.

“You like that?” He asked quietly, dragging Heimdall closer by his hair.

He hummed his response as he swallowed the apple, then moaned as Kratos dragged him around. Kratos had barely even done anything and he was almost already completely hard.

Kratos pulled Heimdall up onto his lap, and placed a firm hand on his lover’s ass, using his other hand to grab the back of his head and pull him into a rough kiss. Most of their kisses are rough and sloppy anyways, the two of them always eager to get to the main event.

Heimdall rolled his hips against Kratos, moaning into the kiss as his dick rubbed against Kratos. Heimdall draped his arms over Kratos’ shoulders, trying to figure out if touching himself would be worth the punishment.

He decides he doesn’t care, and takes himself in his hand, getting barely a second of relief before Kratos grabs his hand roughly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growls, grabbing Heimdall by the neck with his free hand. He rolls them over, so he’s on top of Heimdall, now standing between his thighs.

Kratos releases Heimdall’s hand and shoves two fingers into his mouth, there was no need to tell him what to do on account of Heimdall already knowing what was about to happen to him. Heimdall licks and sucks the large, callused fingers, getting them as wet as he can before Kratos pulls them out. The two watch as a string of alive connects Kratos’ fingers to Heim’s mouth, but the digits are quickly pulled away and brought to Heimdall’s ass.

Kratos presses one finger in, making Heimdall gasp loudly, quickly moaning once the whole finger is in. Kratos has worked him open before many times, but he seems to lose less and less patients the more he does it.

“Please Kratos, please put the other one in.” Heimdall whines, rolling his hips against the finger in his ass.

Kratos was quick to oblige, pushing his other saliva coated finger into the Aesir god, slowly fucking him on his fingers, listening to his beautifully loud moans. The mix of Heimdall’s moans, and the way he was arching his back in response to the intrusion has got Kratos almost completely hard, with a clear outline of his dick very visible to Heimdall.

Kratos released Heimdall’s neck in exchange for rubbing himself through his pants, soon pulling his fingers out of Heim, grumbling at the way he whines and begs for the fingers to be out back in. Kratos carefully undresses himself, trying not to touch anything with the two fingers he just pulled out of Heimdall. Once he was unclothed, he slotted himself right back into his spot between the smaller god’s legs.

“Think you’re ready? Or do you need more?” He asks, rubbing his fingers against Heim’s entrance lightly, making him shiver.

“Oh fucking hell, Kratos please just fuck me already!“ Heimdall whines, as Kratos lets out a small chuckle in response to the begging.

The larger god spits into his hand, and rubs it on his cock, taking half a step forward to line himself up with Heimdall’s hole, and slowly pushes in. He wipes his hand clean on a rag he keeps by the bed for emergencies, and then places his hands on Heimdall’s hips.

The smaller god lets out a loud moan as Kratos finally pushes into him, his back arches up off the bed as Kratos finally gets himself fully sheathed inside, sitting for a second to be sure to not hurt his partner too badly. He pulls out half way and slams back into Heimdall, letting his head fall back a bit as he sets a rough pace, reveling in the fact that he’s the one making Heimdall scream right now.

Heimdall swore he could see stars in that moment, the feeling of Kratos' large hands holding his hips in place, mixed with the loud slap of their skin as the backs of his thighs meet the other’s hips. He wraps his legs around Kratos’ waist, trying to pull him closer, but failing miserably.

Kratos leans down, resting on his hands now, looking Heimdall in the eyes as he plows into him. Heimdall anchors himself by grabbing Kratos’ large forearms, he’s moaning random please and whining nonstop. It almost makes Kratos want to shut him up. So he does.

Kratos wraps a hand around Heimdall’s neck again, this time applying some pressure, watching as he goes nearly silent with the weight of the hand on his neck. Heimdall clearly enjoys this way too much, that’s made clear by the way his cock starts to leak precum all over his stomach.

“You want to cum?” Kratos asks, to which Heimdall quickly responds with enthusiastic nodding of his head and Kratos takes him into his hand stroking him roughly in time with his thrusts.

Heimdall claws at Kratos’ hand, as his back arches, he’s close and they both know it. Then Kratos releases him, right as Heimdall was about to cum. He tries to protest against the loss of contact to his dick, but as soon as it was gone his hand was back to edge him again.

Heim lets out a string of wheezy begs and pleads for permission to cum, but is denied each time. It was when Kratos started to become a bit vocal when Heimdall knew he’d be allowed to cum soon.

“Think you’re ready?” Kratos groans, and Heimdall barely has enough of a brain left to respond so he tries his best, he gives Kratos a loving look that says ‘I’m all yours’ and Kratos almost loses it.

He takes Heimdall’s dick back into his hand, pumping in time with his thrusts, soon letting go of his throat and the rush of adrenaline from being choked for as long as he was hit and it sends him flying over the edge with a loud scream. He’s gripping at the fur blanket draped over the bed as he cums all over his stomach and chest, with Kratos’ orgasm following soon after.

He came with a low, throaty moan, and his dick pushed into Heimdall as far as he could possibly get it. He leans over the god for a moment before pulling out and rolling to lay next to him on the bed, letting out a pleased sigh as he lands.

Kratos rolled to his side, taking Heimdall’s half hare dick in his hand, and running his thumb over the slit, watching Heim shiver.

“P-Please, no more.” He huffs, too tired to go another round. So Kratos lets go, and gets up to get a damp rag to clean the two of them up. He puts his pants back on before leaving the room, seeing Mimir in the corner.

“Ah, hello brother! Yes, you did forget to send me with the boy, but don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul of what I’ve heard.” Mimir laughs, as Kratos grumbles something under his breath, trying to get back to the room as quickly as he can.

“I knew he was out there, just didn’t want to tell you.” Heimdall chuckles as Kratos shuts the door and comes to clean him up, which earns him a light slap on the face.

“Hey what was that for?!” He gripes, sitting up a bit.

“For being a brat.” Kratos replies, discarding the cloth as he climbs into the bed, pulling Heimdall on top of him.

“Fair enough.” He replies, cuddling up to Kratos.

“So you're just going to leave Atreus out wherever?“ Heimdall asks, drawing shapes on Kratos’ chest with his fingers.

“I will go retrieve him shortly. Now hush.” He responds, in a low voice, laced with implications of drowsiness.

[fanartfunart]

[Image ID: 2 colored drawings of an AU of Legend of Zelda’s Link, Zelda and Epona. The first picture shows them as young children & a filly. Zelda has dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and freckles. She wears her hair with a pink, white and light blue ribbon near the bottom and bangs. She wears a pink dress with a blue middle section, and white sleeves, with a white sash around her waist. She’s next to Epona, holding a hand to the filly’s muzzle. Epona is looking down at the apple Link is offering. Link is half a head shorter than Zelda, with slightly lighter blond hair than Zelda, freckles, blue eyes, and his right ear is flopped down. He wears his shoulder-length hair in a messy ponytail. He wears a cream colored short-sleeved under shirt, and a blue tunic over that and a green sash. He wears dark brown pants and boots. The second picture is the three of them as young adults/teens. Link is riding Epona, loosely holding onto the reigns with one hand, as both rider and horse look at Zelda. Link has a relieved smile on his face. Link’s hair is loose, and he wears a mostly green liripipe hat with a blue brim. He wears a white turtleneck undershirt and chain mail under his green tunic. The tunic has blue accents. He has the mastersword, a shield and a bow on his back. Zelda’s hair is pulled back with a braid in the center that is gathered with a wing-shaped pin, and she wears a blue hair wrap at the base of her hair and her side-portions. The rest of her hair is braided. She wears a white dress loose sleeves, and a gold Hyrule crest on her waist. She has a blue sailcloth tied around her shoulders like a short cape. She looks up at Link with a small smile. End ID]

I have an AU idea and it’s purely centered around two facts: Zelda Not being a Princess, and Link and Zelda being siblings.

There is a Princess Zelda, but she’s not actually the reincarnation of the goddess. No one knows that though. The name was passed down to her as is tradition in the royal family. Link and Zelda are the children of a stable owner, and know little more about destiny than the common Hylian (which isn’t much at all).

Link gets discovered as the Hero/chosen to be the Princess’s knight and has to leave to help her. He calls her Princess because “I can’t call you Zelda that’s my sister’s name” (not that he says that out loud). They end up having a relationship similar to BotW Link & Zelda (except this Zelda actually doesn’t have the power of the goddess, and will have to face that fact). Eventually however, Zelda gets discovered by the demonic forces and when Link finds out he immediately tries to find/rescue her.

Double Zeldas bonus under the cut:

[Image ID: A lineart drawing of Princess Zelda and Zelda. The Princess wears a tiara and a puffed-sleeved dress with a high collar. Her hair is parted in the middle and she has a button nose. Zelda has her hair swept back and ends with a braid, and wears a short sleeved dress with a long-sleeved under dress, and a sash. She has freckles, a roman nose and longer ears. They are both looking towards the viewer with varying degrees of annoyance, the princess with more restraint, holding her hands behind her back, and Zelda more open, hands on her hips. A unpictured individual says “Zelda?” and gets a cold “What.” from Princess Zelda and a loud “What?” from Zelda.  End ID]

[foxglovethings]

Onward!

“I have to cut you loose.”

Saucy sat in an antique chair, upholstered in deep green, that squeaked whenever he moved. The desk before him was also an antique, passed down through generations of shrewd lalafellin women who ran the Poma family business, and though it had been refinished several times over it still retained the markings of old Belah’dia. A testament to the line’s longevity.

The office around them was sandstone draped in thick tapestry, dark red and green and blue; the open glass windows carrying the scent of sweet jasmine to mask the funk of sweat that settled into the foundation of the city long ago. Popoma on the other side of the desk wore the same flowers in her hair, sweetly braided into a cord that circled her fair hair.

“It’s not that I dislike you, obviously.” Ice-blue eyes drank in his form without shame. “Have I not taken good care of you for the whole of our friendship? I taught you how to act and how to speak and how to spend your money. That coat was a gift from me once upon a time, if my memory serves me well.”

It always did. The millicorn yellow jacket had seen its fair share of weather now, with its frayed hems and patches on the elbows, but it was thick and smart and fit him expertly; perfect for a new captain of an old airship. Even the red cravat pinned to the collar of his shirt found its way around his neck here in the sprawling Poma estate. Saucy bowed his head with demure humility.

“And yet I find myself tired of all this! You really have no idea how costly it was for me to get the Porta Ciela here and out of the hands of those horrible Yellowjackets. A Lominsan registered vessel, can you imagine? You really couldn’t. I told you to dock her in the Goblet and you didn’t listen, and now it’s cost me more gil than you undoubtedly see in a decade. No, don’t say anything: I don’t need to know how much coin passes through your hands out of sight. In fact, it would upset me to hear it.” Popoma hopped down from her chair and rounded the side of the desk, motioning for her miqo’te companion to join her. They left the office through solid bronze doors, guarded on either side by a pair of Roegdayn who did not look at them. The sandstone walkway beyond was open on one side to an inner garden, lush with hanging vines that dripped with fat grapes and a fountain in the center, each cardinal direction carved into the likeness of a siren spitting water into the pool below. Colourful little birds like jewels flit from one flower to the next, humming over the distant din of the city.

The situation wasn’t their fault; not really. A madman fueled by revenge wasted the lives of his crew, destroyed his ship, and ultimately lost himself at a shot at taking them down. He failed, but only just. And where the Porta Ciela saw victory, it also saw the loss of confidence from gilded hands, retreating back into their deep pockets, unable or unwilling to share.

Saucy let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you, Pompom. I never meant to have caused you any trouble.”

The lalafell reached up to pat his hip with fond familiarity, even smiling as the fluff end of his tail gently tapped her back. “I know, F’shra.” She turned to survey her garden, hands clasped behind her back. Every nail, he noticed, was painted the same cerulean colour of her hair. “But think of it this way: My purse has been to you like a flower, dripping with nectar with its blooms open, waiting for a little bird like you to come and drink. And now it is growing dark, the petals are closing in on themselves, and you, fat with drink and covered in pollen, must find another place to fill your belly. Besides, I hear miqo’te always land on their feet.”

“Aye.” Saucy smiled at that. “That we do.”

She left him in the early evening to meet someone far more important, wrapped in a kaftan of blood red embroidered in gold and green. He could hear the soft jingle of her electrum anklets echoing down the hall before she disappeared behind another heavy door, trailed by pleasant jasmine and the lingering thoughts of an airship captain on the verge of a new adventure.

Saucy stretched, more than a little aware of the eyes of her roegadyn guards now fixated solely upon him. “At ease, lads.” He doffed his leather cap. “You won’t get trouble from me.”

Dry desert air whipped at the tail of his jacket, carrying a thin layer of red dust across the cobblestones of Ul’dah’s city streets. The city was alive with a different sort now; respectable merchants emptying their stalls and piling up carts, locking things away as the bar lights flickered on and dancing girls came like moths to flit around them.

The airship docks were quiet now, though the ferry to Gold Saucer ran through the night, and only the footsteps of a single miqo’te could be heard, and the soft pap of a solid gold paperweight tossed between his hands, lifted from the estate of his former patron.

A new adventure indeed.

[s-aint-elmo]

anon how does it feel to have made my week

i’ve been holding on to these asks for DAYS waiting to carve out some free time so i could do them justice because they are absolutely wonderful. resident rich kids getting left alone for five minutes and wrecking the kitchen?? resident rich kids and their friends who they love very much setting out to study all together on the living room floor but accidentally making the study pile too comfy and ending up sleeping instead?? fantastic. perfect. inspired.

(riz will crash and knock himself out in a few and adaine will be grappled into the cuddle pile eventually just you wait. it’s inevitable. fuck the exams)

finally, i've been really loving this influx of fantasy high asks lately, but also! go send some my friend @supercantaloupe's way!! she's had a hand in a couple of these and she is fantastic.  

(image description under the cut bc i had some time!)

[ ID: a screenshot of two asks sent one after another. they say: "I have a HC that Fabian and Adaine cannot cook and so the bad kids spend Friday nights trying to teach them/ Also bad kids studying together/falling asleep in a pile." what follows are two drawn images in response to them. 

 one: an overboiling pot on a food-covered stove sits in the foreground over a roaring flame, while the disheveled pair of fabian and adaine take cover behind a kitchen counter in the background, framed by stylized billowing smoke from the pot. on our left, fabian brandishes a wooden spoon at the pot in an en garde position. fabian is a half-elf with wavy, messy hair and an eyepatch over his right eye. he is wearing an apron over a tank top and a panicked grimace. on our right, adaine wields a ladle in the manner of a baseball player coming up to bat, squinting at the pot. adaine is a high-elf with a similarly messy bob of wavy hair and long ears pinned back in distress. she is also wearing an apron over her shirt; it's tied into a small bow at her back, partially obscured by the smoke. on adaine's head sits her familiar, boggy the froggy, a perfectly spherical frog wearing a collar. boggy glares at the pot, firmly in his "i don't like this" setting. the background is a solid peachy orange.

two: all six bad kids curled around each other in a sleepy, mid-study pile. each bad kid is filled in with an identifying colour in order to distinguish them from each other. fabian, a half-elf with wavy, slicked back hair wearing an eyepatch and a letterman jacket, is pale red. adaine, a high elf with wavy, bobbed hair wearing a wool-lined denim jacket, is pale blue. fig, a tiefling in a studded leather jacket with slightly curved horns and long, braided hair, is purple. riz, a small goblin in a newsboy cap, vest, slacks, dress shoes and dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, is yellow green. kristen, a human girl in a t-shirt with curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, is golden yellow. gorgug, a half-orc in a big hoodie with headphones slung around his neck, is pale green. they are all wearing matching woven friendship bracelets.

from left to right: gorgug is curled on his side, one arm pillowing his head and the other resting on the floor beside him. from where we stand we can see the top of his head and his shoulders. fabian hangs over gorgug, his head laid on his arms, which are laid on gorgug's waist and hip. his hands partially obscure his sleeping face. adaine is fully awake, seeming to be the only one left interested in studying. she looks down with an expression of mild annoyance on her face at fig, who is using her lap as a pillow. fig sleepily swats at adaine's book, a gesture meant to tell her to join the rest of them in napping. adaine only holds it up and away from her hand. riz sits against fig's torso, his knees pulled up to his chest and hands cradling a mug of coffee. his eyes are large and staring blanky into the depths of his mug; he is clearly on a caffeine high. kristen, fully asleep on her stomach, has one arm curled under her chin to support her head, the other extended to rest on her crystal, which buzzes slightly with a notification. an open book lays partially over her extended arm. her body is curved in such a way that she closes the loose circle of half-asleep kids. at the very center of them all sits boggy the froggy, a very spherical frog. his face is the picture of contentment. the background is a light shade of peach.]

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.34

A Little Spell

07/20/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,799

Warnings: smut, language, FLUFF, cute babies, slight angst

A/N: Enjoy! I’ve had fun with this one. As always if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work.

Tags are CLOSED!

Please do not REPOST my work on any other sites or blogs. REBLOGS are welcome!

Spring has awoken in Broklin. The sky is blue once more. Small tufts of cotton clouds fly by overhead as you walk with Maggie in your arms. She’s little, only three months, and aging with the peony blossoms in your gardens.

She wears one in her soft hay colored hair, carefully pinned by her Godmother Natasha this morning.

As she gawks at a flying bird, her chubby baby arms stretched out as if to touch it, your mind has a fleeting thought as you think about Nat, as it does every time you think of her.

What is he not telling me?

You remember it like it were only last night, Steve and Sam racing from your bedroom with a scroll crushed in Steve’s right hand.

He’d come back hours later looking tired and worried for only a moment as he walked into the room and then he’d smiled at you as you sat up, your little girl pressed to your breast as she fed.

He’d laid down beside you and kissed Maggie’s little feet just to hear her fuss a little and then laid with his eyes shut. Thinking things that you wanted but couldn’t know. Wouldn’t know. Still don’t know.

You’d known better at the time than to ask him what all of his rushing around had been about and instead settled Maggie between the two of you after she’d fed and only after he was asleep had you moved her into her cradle.

Steve had wrapped his arms around you in his sleep as you’d moved closer to him and it had chased away any fretting you’d had at the prospect of more trouble.

Despite the fear that had begun to grow in your mind, your worries seem to be unfounded as nothing has happened to alarm you or, really, anyone in the Kingdom.

“Sister!”

The call shatters your thoughts back to this blissful spring day and you turn to see Morgana moving quickly towards you, one hand holding up her pale green dress. The little vines etched along her collar and sleeves stand out in dark green and earthy brown.

“Morgana, your Majesty.” Peter states, moving towards Morgana and give her a quick bow while she too stops to greet him.

“Hello, Peter!” She smiles, then hurries back to you while Peter leaves you two to wait by the garden entrance.

You inspect your work—her dress—worried about the state of the stitching as she flounces about, but it’s holding up very well.

“Morgana, I thought you were in your lessons until the afternoon?” You chastise, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Maggie gasps in excitement, coos, and kicks her legs so quickly that you have to adjust her dress around her little feet. She’s a vision in pale blue to compliment the rosy pink peony in her hair.

Your own dress a stunning yellow, and a ribbon around your waist to match the color of Maggie’s dress.

With a little one, you have had to learn to keep your hair up or tied back. Grandmother had insisted on a braid this morning. Long with peonies also wound through to match your daughter.

For the most part, you don’t understand the fuss everyone has been making over the two of you looking so coordinated but apparently it is a tradition of the kingdom for a Queen and her child to set an example of “unity” . How exactly clothes show this, you have no idea.

“Hello little Maggie.” Morgana gushes then opens her arms to take her.

Handing your daughter over, you adjust her dress as Morgana gets her comfortable.

“Don’t ignore me, Morgana.” You warn her, with love of course.

“I’m not ignoring you.” She huffs. “I’m merely using my beautiful niece to avoid answering the question.”

You laugh. A confession you had not been expecting.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, still chuckling as the two of you resume your walk through the winding hedges of your now wild garden.

All these flowers once grouped with their own species and rigorously kept apart before were now in a truly wild blend of organized chaos.

“I finished early and the Master asked if I would like to proceed to the next lesson or spend the day on my own…” She begins.

“And naturally you decide that the day is better spent with Maggie and I?”

“Of course!” Morgana smiles, tickling Maggie’s little tummy. “Isn’t that right, Princess?”

“You should have gotten a head start on your lessons.” You reason.

“And miss out on this beautiful day? I don’t think so. Besides, my brother-in-law would like to see you. It looks like a meeting.” Morgana says, knowing that you will know what she means. “He sent me down to fetch you, and to take little Maggie back upstairs for her nap.”

“Has something happened?” You panic, stopping to look at her with wide eyes.

Maybe you were getting too comfortable too soon?

“I don’t know.” She laughs. “Father tells me nothing and mother insists that I stay out of all Avenging business.”

“They’re right, Morgana…I’m so glad that you weren’t anywhere near during the battle.” You worry. “Or Shuri. I’m glad she and her brother had to go back home before anything could happen.”

“They could have helped. The Black Panther is very skilled. And powerful.” Morgana reasons.

“He is.” You nod. “But I would have everyone be safe rather than risk the dangers of the castle that night.”

“You make it sound so terrifying.” She tells you, not realizing that you’d left out a chunk of compelling story when you’d recounted the events of the night.

“It was.” You assure her.

“Sister, even if it was scary, don’t you think that all of the Avengers fought for a reason? They all want to protect you. And my brother-in-law fights for more than just you and Maggie. He fights for the freedom of his kingdom.”

She thinks a moment, and smiles. “But mostly for you. You should see the way he watches you and Maggie. There’s a fear in his expression that I don’t understand. Almost a yearning. Even Nat says that she does not remember him ever looking at anyone so.”

“I don’t want anyone fighting for me, Morgana. I want everyone to be safe.”

There must be something in your eyes as you insist because she nods, understanding.

“Where were they?” You move on, eager to forget the night of Maggie’s birth.

“It’s only Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha.” She informs you, making sure you know it isn’t the entire team. “They’re waiting for you in Steve’s den.”

“Can you manage Margaret?” You wonder, waiting to see what she’ll say.

Morgana rolls her eyes, “Of course, I can! Now go.”

With a bite to your bottom lip you quickly lean in and press a kiss to Maggie’s cheek.

She turns towards you as you pull away. Eyes wide and hands and feet flailing and kicking in excitement.

“I’ll see you shortly my pretty girl.” You coo at her then head towards the castle at a hastened pace.

As you pass the gate you move to Peter’s side with a pleading look.

“Will you stay and watch over her?” You fuss, worried about leaving Morgana alone with Maggie. Not that you don’t trust her, but you’re a little more wary now after so many close calls.

“I-” Peter begins, ready to defy you in favor of protecting you. He’s your personal guard!

“Please, Peter. I need to know that I can trust you to protect her if I cannot be around.” You plead.

Peter watches your expression then glances behind you towards Maggie and Morgana.

“Of course, your Majesty. I will protect them both with my life.” He promises, easing the worries in your heart.

You hurry on, but just as you reach the door you look back at your daughter once more and find Morgana helping her wave her tiny clenched fist as she mouths Bye-bye momma! Peter joining them with a small jog.

As he stops beside them, Morgana’s gaze is diverted, and her cheeks fill with a rosy tint.

You return their small wave and allow your feet to carry you faster through the castle towards Steve’s den.

On the second floor you pass Sharon nestled into a small library with her nose in a book.

You stop, warring with your two halves. The one side of you is eager to greet her and ask her to accompany you to this new meeting that you’ve suddenly been summoned for when you’re so often left in the dark about Avengers matters. You’re grateful to her for saving your life and the life of your little girl.

Then there’s the second half. The wife half. The woman within you that remembers the sight of her nestled in against Steve’s chest. The stern set of her jaw when you staked your claim for him and then the feeble attempt at an apology that so clearly had meant nothing at the time.

Your jealousy is moderate now. It doesn’t rear its head like a starving monster anymore, but it’s still there. You are Steve’s and he belongs to you. You’ve rarely felt the need to make it clear that you belong to each other. When you see Sharon being one of those occasions.

With a quick breath, cut short by a determined huff from your gnawed-on lips, you stifle the urge to claim and instead allow the friendlier side to move you into the room.

“Sharon?”

Sharon blinks, searching for you with wide eyes still dazed by her book.

“Oh,” She smiles, rising as she sets her books aside.

She curtsies as you stop before her, hands placed gently at your front as you try to stand the way Nat has taught you. Regal. Or as close to it as you can manage. You’re still unconvinced that you can pull this royalty business off.

You know you’re Queen and you make no arguments about it, but you’re fairly certain that Sharon—and other women like her, Nat included—will always look more the part of nobility than you do.

“Your Majesty, good morning.” Sharon greets, rising and matching your pose but clearly more relaxed.

“Good morning. I hope you’re well?” You begin, hoping the pleasantries aren’t unwelcomed.

“I’m very well, my lady. Thank you for asking.” She smiles again, a bit softer.

“I was wondering, why aren’t you with the others in Steve’s office?”

“I, my lady?” Sharon asks, genuinely confused as she presses her hand to her chest. The pale silk orange dress is elegant but fitting of the weather. The dark purple roses that flow upwards into a cluster in the pattern draw the eye to her bust, just as her hand does.

“I was sent for by Steve just now.” You explain.

“I-I’ve been in here all morning. All night even. It might be possible that they sent for me, but no one knows where I am. This has always been a good place to hide.” She confesses and her smile widens.

“Well, why don’t you accompany me? Whatever schemes they have you will no doubt be an asset. Indeed, I don’t know why they’ve sent for me. I’m…I couldn’t possibly be of much help.” You shake your head, relaxing a little more with every word you speak.

“I think it likely that his Majesty wants to keep you apprised of the events in the Kingdom.” Sharon ponders. “After what happened at King Anthony’s castle, he’d be a fool to keep you in the dark.”

You hadn’t though of that. Steve is summoning you to keep you informed? He never has before.

Once again, your mind is dragged back to the day of Thor’s visit and Sam’s urgent scroll.

You must have gone into a daze while your mind ran with thoughts because Sharon clears her throat, pulling you from your own ponderings.

“Your Majesty?” She checks, wary.

“Sorry.” You smile again. “I’m sorry. Will you come?”

Gesturing towards the door you take a tentative step as you await her choice.

“Of course!” She exclaims, rushing to open the door fully for you.

“You don’t have to-”

“Please.” She states simply, and you don’t refuse her.

The two of you walk together, Sharon a half step behind you—as she should be with you as Queen—in surprisingly comfortable silence.

When you reach the wing that you and Steve live in, you clear your throat, walking a little slower with his den visible at the end of the hall.

“I’m glad you decided to stay a little longer with us.” You tell her quietly.

“As am I, your Majesty.” She smiles. “Seeing you run the castle and the introductions with the court and the people…I hope Maggie won’t turn in her grave, but you do this job better than she ever did.”

“Oh?” You’re not exactly surprised by her statement. Steve has often told you this himself, but to hear it come from two people who loved Margaret the most and knew her the best really speaks volumes.

“Maggie was always focused on the world. It’s good to see someone care about just this Kingdom. It wasn’t in ruins or anything when she was in rule, but it has truly prospered under your care. And your attentions to its people force Steve to also consider those closer to home.

“There will always be an evil out there for us to fight. I think he used to forget those that depend on him waiting right here.” Sharon ponders, not really asking any questions just making observations.

“You’re too kind.” You smile. “It has truly been my honor to serve. To help.”

“Serve?” She asks, confused.

“Isn’t that what we do? Steve and I?” You think aloud. “We are here to provide a service. That service is indispensable. We provide stability and structure to the lives of everyone in Broklin. We were placed here to not only rule, but to help and to take care of those who need us. We are called to serve our people in the best ways we are able.

“There can be no service more important to perform in all the world.” You shrug, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

Sharon huffs a small laugh, not in sarcasm, but surprise.

“What?” You stop, turning to look at her with your hands carefully placed at your front. “What have I said?”

“You truly put us all to shame, your Majesty.” She states, looking into your eyes with a sparkle of sincerity. “There are sovereigns that would say the exact opposite. That it is the duty of the people to serve their King and Queen.”

“And it is.” You agree. “We are a carriage wheel, the people and us. In order for us to carry forward, we all must do our parts. It’s why I chose to marry Steve despite never having known him.

“I love him now, but when I agreed to marry him, I had no idea who he was. My father needed me to be dutiful and I was.” You smile. “We serve the people and they serve us in turn. We cannot have one without the other. Kingdoms fall every day to famine, disease, discontent among the people…one cannot expect to take and take without giving something in return.”

“Yes.” Sharon nods, “I see that now. And I’m sure Steve has seen it too. You’re teaching him well.”

You laugh, finding it silly that you could teach Steve anything that he doesn’t already know.

“Come on, before they grow impatient.”

As the two of you approach the door, you spot Grandmother leaning against the wall just outside the door, her hand on her chest and her eyes shut tight as if she’s struggling with a pain of some kind.

“Your Majesty?” Sharon probes as you slow just outside the door.

“Go on in.” You tell her, “I’ll be right in.”

Sharon nods and joins the others while you approach grandmother, a sudden realization fills you with dread.

Grandmother is old. And as much as you’ve grown used to her care, she will not always be with you.

“Grandmother? Are you alright?” You check, easing closer before placing your hand on her back carefully.

She’s lost so much weight recently that her dresses have begun to fit her loose. You’ll have more made for her.

“Shall I send for a doctor?” You ask, ear growing.

“No.” She says, withered voice shaking with a trembling breath.

“What’s the matter?” You wonder, placing reassuring hands on the sides of her arms.

She looks up at you, her eyes boring into your own and you can see it all in the reflection.

She’s terrified. This old woman, fearless in the face of a full on battle, is scared.

“Will you not confide in me?” You fret.

“No.” She says, eyes narrowed as she considers you and her legs grow stronger. “Not until I see it all.”

You’re confused by her words but try not to dwell on them.

“Let me at least get you a glass of water.” You insist.

“I said no, girl. Get back to your duties and leave me be.” She grumbles and pushes around you, muttering something under her breath as she reaches into one of her hidden pockets and pulls from within it a small vial of glittering powder.

You watch her until she’s out of sight, your mind trying to make sense of what little she said, but you can’t. You never could with Grandmother. Why was she out here to begin with? Had she been part of the meeting up until now?

Inside Steve’s den, you find Natasha sitting on one of the plain seats by his desk, Bucky beside her, arms crossed as he stares at a map spread out across Steve’s desk.

Sam is leaning against the desk, one hand along the edge while he points at a cluster of black iron houses near the corner. Sharon, sits in the chair beside Nat giving the impression that Sam must have given the seat up for her when she entered.

Your husband sits in his large chair behind the desk, his elbow on the wooden arm. His right hand covers his mouth while he taps a finger on the other deep in thought.

All of them turn to look at you as you enter. Sam straightens up, Natasha and Sharon both rise to their feet, and Bucky drops his arms. Steve however is transfixed on the map, eyes blazing with storm clouds as his mind fixates on whatever problem has gathered them all into this room.

“No, please…” You tell the others and they relax, taking up their previous positions.

You edge your way over to Steve and almost on instinct he opens his left arm to greet you beside him, turning his chair before he pulls you into his lap without sparing you a glance.

Normally you might protest the open affection in front of your closest friends but as you sit and he wraps his arm around your waist, there’s a needy weight to his embrace that tells you in this moment he must feel you there with him.

You recognize it and it makes you nervous. Fearful of what is troubling him.

“Is it bad?” You ask, looking only at him.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it slowly but doesn’t utter a word.

“Bucky?” You turn to him and wait as he shakes his head then nods to Sam.

“They’re here.” Sam says, leaning over the map again to point at the same cluster of black iron houses. “In this village. Abandoned long ago. All of the structures are crumbling. Decayed. If they’re not overgrown with vegetation, they’re soggy with mold and moss. Thor says there are at least three dozen soldiers left.”

“Hydra?” You ask, surprised you could find the breath in your body to do so.

“We thought that Captain Danvers had killed Rumlow, but it appears that he escaped before she could finish the job. He’s taken what’s left of their numbers here to regroup and rebuild.” Sam explains.

“Then we go after them.” Sharon says passionately.

“Thor says that rushing in would be reckless.” Bucky says. “They have something there. A weapon unlike any he’s ever seen before. It turns men into mindless slaves with a single touch. It shoots out an energy that he has never seen.

“And there’s no way to guarantee that they would still be there, even if we went now.”

“Where is Thor?” You wonder, looking around as if he might appear form the shadows.

“Searching.” Nat says. “For information on the power they possess.”

“We have to do this carefully. I won’t risk open war. Not with these villages here surrounding them on all three sides and the border on their back. They could slip into the Kingdom to the south and start a war between our kingdoms.” Steve shakes his head. “We’ll take a day, come up with a few strategies. We must move but we must do so correctly.”

“I thought they were gone.” You lament, starting at the cluster of houses.

Your tone finally brings Steve’s gaze to you and he wraps his arm around you more tightly.

“And they are.” He assures you. “This is what’s left of them. They’re weakened and if we do this properly, we might finally be able to eradicate the world of Hydra.”

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” Bucky says solemnly drawing everyone’s eye.

Steve is frowning, his hands gripping the fabrics of your dress above your thigh as he considers his childhood friend.

“Then we’ll rip out their hearts.” He declares before immediately stifling the rage that filled his chest. “We need to take that weapon away from them and then we can kill them once and for all. We can’t wait for Thor.”

Nat gets to her feet and Bucky drops his arms. “We should at least give him a week to return before we attack. We need to know what we’re facing.”

Steve considers this, “I’ll give him three days. It’s all we can afford. Any more time and we may as well send them the numbers to withstand us.

“You and Nat take the rest of the day for yourselves, enjoy each other and tomorrow begin recruiting amongst the guard. Anyone skilled in deceit. They should also be able to hold their own against either of you.”

Nat nods and heads for the door. Bucky hesitates but quickly follows his wife out, leaving the door open.

“Sam, ride for Malibia and see if Tony can come back and whether Lord and Lady Lang are still present at his castle.” Sam nods, then leaves too.

“Shall I reach out to Fury?” Sharon wonders, pushing herself to the edge of her seat.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “They’re racing after a separate faction of Hydra supporters. We’ll let them do their work. I want you to go to the East tower.”

“Wanda?” She asks, curious but unsurprised. “You want me to train her?”

“I want you to question her.” Steve clarifies. “She and her brother were part of Hydra. They were created by Hydra. If anyone might know what this mystery weapon is, it will be them.”

Sharon rises and rushes out with a curtsy leaving you and Steve alone in his office.

Your eyes dance around the now empty room, stopping on the curtained off corner that had been Margaret’s reading nook.

The jealousy you feel is almost imperceptible. He’s had it sectioned off for so long that you’re certain he did it to either keep you out or shield it from view so that he might move on without being reminded of his first love.

“Are you worried?” He asks, drawing your gaze back down to meet his own.

“Only because I wish this were over.” You shake your head, reaching up to trace the shape of his cheek and then slide your hands into his soft and slightly unwashed golden head of hair. “But it will never be over, will it?”

Steve’s face is serious, pained in a way, but only because he can see your distress. “No.”

His agreement weighs your heart down and you settle into his arms a little sadly.

He wraps you up in them, pulling you so close that you might as well be fused with how he’s got you tucked in against his chest. You shut your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder, tucking it underneath his chin when he adjusts it to rest it against your head.

“Oh, my sweet flower.” He whispers. “I’m sorry that I cannot be normal for you.”

His lament gives you pause, making your heart ache for an entirely different reason.

“Steve…” You push yourself back up, searching for his storm blue eyes which you find full of sorrow. “…I would not want you to be anyone but who you are.”

He considers your words for a few moments while you renew the caress to his head.

“Wouldn’t you prefer it if I were a normal king? No Avengers? No strange enemies with strange abilities?” He wonders. “I know that even my own abilities might be a little troublesome. I know that I can be a little heavy handed.”

“Steve,” You stop him, taking his face in both your hands and turn him to face you. “I would not change one single thing about you. Not your strange addiction to salted pork with that cherry glaze Cook makes. Not the wrinkles around your eyes when you laugh. Not the strength in your body or the smiles that greet me in the morning. Not the love you will always hold for Margaret, despite your declarations to the opposite.”

You drop your voice so that it is low and only for his ears, even though you’re very much alone.

“And most definitely not those heavy hands that pin me to our bed.”

His cheeks flush pink and it makes you so proud to make him blush that you chuckle once.

“I love every inch of you. Yes, I worry but only because I’ve seen you beaten and bloody. I’ve tended your wounds and watched you flinch. I’ve waited at your bedside in fear that you would never wake. I’m afraid that someone will take you from me and I’m not sorry for that. I can’t pretend that this life is not without risk and that very risk might one day take you from me and Maggie. I would wipe the world of evil if I could, but I know that I cannot so, I will worry every day for the rest of my life because I love you.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

Steve sighs heavily, hating your words. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your chest as his hands trace the shape of your back, rubbing it to give you comfort.

“I wish I could give you a life without strife.” He cries, voice muffled against your breast.

“Oh, my darling, there is no woman, no wife or mother in this world that lives without strife. Perhaps mine is a little more elevated with so much hanging in the balance, as Queen and also the wife of the Captain, but I do not regret my choices. I would gladly marry you and endure all of my hardships over and over again if it meant that I could have this moment. Our daughter safe with her Aunt and you with your arms around me.”

Steve smiles at you, sappy and pure.

“I’ll be careful.” He promises.

You throw your head back and laugh, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep from falling off his lap.

“What?” He asks in humored shock. “What’s humorous in my promise?”

“Just swear to me that you will return to me in a somewhat decent state. One which I can nurse you through and I will gladly wait forever for you.” You can’t expect him to make promises he can’t keep and for him to be careful…well, you know better.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice deep and low.

His sudden declaration sends massive butterflies into the pit of your belly and your heart does a dance. It robs you of breath and you lick your lips and swallow the lump forming.

“Even after seeing me as I gave birth to Maggie? You love me after that?” You wonder, knowing the sight it must have been.

“No woman on this world is stronger or more capable than you, my petal. I could not have done what you did to bring her into being and I will worship at your feet for sacrificing so much to bring her to us.” He gushes, genuine and intense in his expression despite the lovesick flow of his words.

How long will this last? How long will he really love you in this way?

You know it all fades eventually. You’re not a fool. You’ll be glad if you and Steve love each other half as well as Tony and Pepper when you two have been married as long.

He pulls you down to kiss him and you give him what he needs and what you so desperately want. You think back to every time he pulled away from you, despising you for touching him just after you were married. You remember the way he forced himself to consummate, the way he’d drowned out your cries for relief because he wanted to get it over with.

He wanted to be done with you and never could you have imagined that he would hold you so dearly. His lips wrapping themselves along yours, tongue softly probing for entry which you swiftly allow.

“Do you have to get back to work?” You whisper between a kiss, lips wet, eyes hazy with desire.

Steve pulls back to see your eyes and he shakes his head, leaning back in. He runs his tongue along your open mouth as he pushes you up onto your feet only to reach down and hike up the front of your skirt.

He pulls you towards him, hands hooking behind your thighs as he guides you back onto his lap but leaves you standing over him.

His hands disappear underneath the folds of your dress, but you can hear the swish of his pants as he braces himself on the arms of his chair and pushes his trousers down a bit.

His hands caress the length of your leg, from behind your knee to thigh before finding your hip. With one hand he leads you and with the other he lines himself up, the heat of his cock pressing against the soft wet folds of your cunt.

You shiver.

“Tell me you love me.” He begs, needy.

“I love you.” You answer, a breathy whisper as he impales you slowly.

“My sweet…” He groans, yanking you down to kiss him in a fevered passion that you hope he will never forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to go check on Grandmother.” Your eyes are fixated on the shielded corner of Steve’s den.

You’re not really looking at it, but it’s in your line of sight.

Steve groans, tracing the skin of your bum where you sit, still resting on his lap. Your head is on his chest, your body still wrapped around his. Still full of him though he’s spent after three rounds. You will both be sleeping soundly tonight, so long as Maggie will allow you to do so.

It’s not the custom for you to watch her at night but you insisted and as Queen no one will argue. Especially when Steve is so eager to support you in building a new way of life in the castle.

“She’s ill.” You reason with him, “I found her outside your door nearly fainted. With her age, I’d hate for us to be careless with her heath.”

“Shall I send for a doctor?” Steve asks, hands stopped on your bottom.

“Not yet. I’ll check with her first and then send for someone if needed.” You sit up and make to rise.

Steve’s hands suddenly grasp your bottom tight, fingers digging into your flesh. There’s a worry in it and it makes you look at him in search of what it might be.

“Do you want to see?” He asks you.

You’re at a loss as to what he means, and it must show on your face.

“Behind the curtains.” He explains, then gestures at the spot with a nod. “You were curious once before.”

You look at the spot and try not to feel too hurt or sound wounded by the memory of that day.

“And you were angry with me for it.” You remember.

“No.” Steve says, voice stern and certain. “No, my love, I-I was angry but not because you tried to look at her spot. I was angry because I thought you’d read my book.”

He sits up a bit more, arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place as he reaches with the other one to grab the red book with the large A embossed on the cover.

“This book holds every account of every mission that we have ever run as a team. It holds details of enemies and their abilities or their motives. It has everything.

“When I walked in that day, I saw you with your hand on it. I saw you reading it.” Steve hurries to explain. “My heart dropped when I realized what it was you were looking at and I lashed out. It wasn’t right of me to do so, but the last thing that I wanted was to have you involved in that world.”

“Oh.” You realize, staring at the book in his hand. “I thought-”

“I will not lie and say that it didn’t have a little to do with Margaret and her space in my den, but mostly I-I was already in love with you and the thought of you and all your purity and goodness, all of your vulnerability exposed to the violence of the world I lived in filled me with a fear that I have never known.

“Even now, only the thought of our little Maggie in danger compares to the terror that fills me when I think of you at the mercy of Pierce’s sword.” He brings his hands up, one on your cheek and the other on the back of your neck. “I would have gone mad if he’d taken you both from me.”

You can’t blame him for the fear. You’d felt it too. Still feel it when you imagine your little one, protected only with your body and you with no way to fight Pierce off.

“We owe Sharon so much.” You tell Steve and he nods.

“I can never repay her for being there when I could not be.” Steve agrees.

Several moments pass in silence as the two of you reflect on what could have been and relish in each other’s presence, bodies pressed so close still, in gratitude for the reality of the outcome.

“So?” Steve continues. “Would you like to see?”

He tosses the red book back onto his desk and carefully helps you up. He pulls your skirts down, helping you fluff them out as they should be before tying the string of his trousers and adjusting his shirt.

With the soft hiss of skin on skin, he takes your hand and pulls you around his desk towards the corner.

He releases your hand and reaches up to unhook the heavy curtains.

As they fall away, it reveals not a reading corner but a remade space with a new seat by the window. A bench with a plush pink cushion, darker pink peonies in the fabric. The dark woods compliment the lighter colors. Around that seat is indeed a bookcase but it’s much smaller than the ones that surrounded it before.

There is also a spinning wheel, a basket of what you can only assume is everything you will need to make your own yarn. There are several small round containers that you recognize as sewing kits. In one sitting open you can see a pair of iron scissors, thick and heavy. A leather pouch, spools of already woven yarn, and a collection of cutting knives for leather should you decide to work with it. There’s a small table against the other wall where a large bookcase had sat before, piled with patches of fabrics for embroidery and a few samples of tapestry fabrics that excite you as you’ve never worked on a tapestry before.

Near that table along the floor is a plump yellow cushion. The design is also feminine but only just with silver and baby blue butterflies. A small pillow, a doll made of rags and another out of wood tells you that this spot is for your little one.

Steve offers his hand once more and you take it, in awe of his reveal.

“I know you like to read so I had some books brought for you, but I wanted this space to be yours and yours alone. Well, until three months ago when Maggie was born, and I had that small space added for her. Do you…like it?” He wonders, watching you as you let his hand go and move to trace the smooth lines of your spinning wheel.

“Like it?” You gasp. “Oh, Steve…”

You burst into tear and cover your face. Why must you be so emotional right now? You want to show him how happy you are!

“Oh, no. Please do not cry.” He pleads, moving to wipe your tears away.

“I c-can’t help it. I’m sorry.” You weep. “I’m just so-so happy.”

Steve laughs, an easy chuckle as he pulls you against his chest.

“Thank goodness.” He kisses your head and holds you until you stop crying.

The walk to grandmother’s is a happy one. You’re excited to spend time in Steve’s den. Not only because he’s given you so many new tools to really make some high-quality products but because this means that you’re officially part of his life. He wants you near him when he works. He’s opened his space up for you and is welcoming you so openly.

After so long spent wondering whether you belonged here at all, you finally have your place. Truly this is where you belong.

A keening cry pierces the cool spring air. The shade of the trees that surround Grandmother’s cottage suddenly seem looming with the clear sound of an animal crying out in protest is cut abruptly cut off.

You stop walking and wait a moment to see if you might hear anything else but when you don’t, you race towards the cottage, in fear for Grandmother’s life.

As you shove the door open, you expect to find the old woman clutching her heart again, on her knees in a heap on the floor.

What you do not expect to find is the old woman in the middle of a large circle drawn onto her floor.

Even now, a strange purple light fades from the circle leaving behind the sight of Grandmother on her knees, a slaughtered mess of black fur in front of her and her hands bathed in blood as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Grandmother?!” You race towards her, stepping into the circle as the light fades completely.

She turns towards you, watching you with pure white eyes. Although she looks at you, her eyes see beyond you. They watch something you cannot see, and you begin to realize that everything that everyone said about Grandmother being a witch had been completely correct and not at all because of her old age and her hermit behavior.

“Grandmother are you alright?” You ask in a panic, realizing her true self while trying to make sense of it with the old woman who just delivered your daughter.

When she speaks, she breathes inward. Her voice escapes as a gasp.

Breathing in. “The worst is yet to come.”

Breathing out. “There will be a power much darker than this world has ever seen.”

Breathing in. “Six are sought by the one who shall wield them. Half will die.”

Breathing out. “Already he makes his move.”

“Grandmother?”

With her eyes still bone white, she seems to finally see you and grasps the top of your arms with such strength that you’re sure her fingers will leave a bruise.

“He will fight harder than he has ever fought before. He will protect them all with his life.”

He? Steve?

“And he will fall.”

[yourfaveis-real-and-trans]

Kotone Shiomi from Persona 3 Portable is real and trans!

Requested by Anon

[Image ID: It is Kotone Shiomi, edited over the “real and trans” flag. Shiomi has brown/auburn hair and auburn eyes; Their hair is in a braided bun and there are several bobby pins on the left side of her head. They are wearing a black jacket with a patch on the left side of the chest and a red armband with the text “S.E.E.” They are wearing a white collared shirt beneath the jacket. They have a thick red ribbon tied into a bow as a neck tie.

 Shiomi has their left hand on their chest and it is holding a blue and teal card; the card has a design of a mask on it. Shiomi is looking directly at the viewer.

 The Background is the “real and trans” flag, it is the transgender flag but the top half of the flag is desaturated, and the bottom half remains the same. End ID]

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Distant Memories - Prologue

One fateful night, the young Prince Samuel Hale disappears when the palace is overrun and the royal family are murdered. Years later, the Grand Duke Peter offers a reward for the return of his nephew. Stiles and Boyd come up with a plan to find someone to play the role and take the money; that’s when they stumble upon an orphaned man with no memories of his childhood and who bares a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince.

 For @benaya-trash​

[AO3]

  The large ballroom was filled with light and sound. The hall had been decorated with strings of crystal beads, draped from the chandeliers to the golden filigree of the ornate crown moulding and the towering columns on either side of the hall. The crystals shimmered like stars in the night as they caught the light.

Small groups of people gathered on the mezzanine, talking quietly as they sipped on champagne or looking over the ornate railing to watch the others dance.

Guests filled the dance floor, dancing gracefully to the music, the fabric of their ball gowns and evening coats billowing as they moved.

Grand Duke Peter sat on one of the thrones positioned on the landing of the staircase at one end of the hall, the hard lines of his face and his cold composure softening as he watched his nieces and nephews move among the crowd.

The eldest of the three children, Laura, smiled sweetly as she danced with her father – the Tsar. She moved gracefully, gliding across the dance floor as if she were floating on air. The fabric of her deep indigo ball gown billowed and swayed like the waves of the ocean in the darkness of the night; the gold embroidery and beading that ran down the front of her dress caught the light like moonlight reflecting off the waves. Her long dark hair was pinned back from her face, left to hang loose in cascading waves past her shoulders but decorated with gleaming beads and the delicate golden tiara that sat atop her head.

Nearby, Prince Samuel danced with his younger sister, Cora.

The young princess was dressed in a blush pink gown with a scooped neckline. The corset and sleeves were decorated with white flowers and pearls that matched the string of pale pearls that sat around her neck—the one her mother had given her to wear that night. Her long hair was tied back in a pony tail with a pink ribbon tied into a bow. The look was finished by a small tiara sat atop her dark hair. She looked much healthier than the last time he had seen her.

Prince Samuel wore a navy blue coronation suit much like his father’s, with gold embroidery around the cuffs of the sleeves and the stiff collar. Two rows of shining buttons lined the front of his jacket with braids of golden string hanging across his chest, draped from the golden plate on his right shoulder to the buttons on his chest.

Peter couldn’t help but smile as he watched them dance. Samuel would pick his sister up and twirl her around or spin her in circles until the sound of her laughter drowned out the music.

The girls were the splitting image of their mother; they had inherited her beauty and her elegance, but it was Samuel who had inherited her calmness and her patience.

Peter looked away from the ballroom floor, turning to look at his sister who stood beside him.

Tsarina Talia smiled at her brother, gently setting her hand on his shoulder before stepping down onto the dance floor and joining her husband.

Laura curtseyed as she stepped back, turning to see her brother’s pleading expression. She chuckled as she stepped over to their side, taking Cora’s hand and dancing with her.

Samuel stepped back before making his way over to his uncle’s side.

“I wish you didn’t have to go to Paris,” Samuel said softly.

Peter’s smile fell slightly. “I was going to wait until later to give you this, but I suppose you can have it now.”

Peter dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small bejewelled silver box; the dark sapphires and pale aquamarine and glossy opals catching the light.

“A jewellery box?” Samuel asked, bewildered.

“A secret,” his uncle corrected. He pulled out a necklace; a small silver pendant in the shape of a triskelion hanging from the end of the chain. He slotted it into the matching hole, holding onto the small grip on the back of the pendant as he turned it.

The top of the bejewelled box opened, revealing a surprise; inside were two figurines that looked like Samuel’s mother and father, spinning in circles as they danced along to the sweet melody of a familiar song.

He straightened, his eyes widening with realisation as he looked up at his uncle.

“The lullaby,” Samuel said.

“You can play it before you go to sleep and imagine that it’s me singing to you,” Peter said. He waited for the melody to catch up and softly sang, “On the wind, across the sea, hear this song and remember.”

Samuel smiled, his voice quiet as he sang along with his uncle, “Soon you’ll be home with me, once upon a December.”

Peter pulled the pendant out of the side of the music box and passed it to Samuel.

“Read what it says,” he instructed.

Samuel turned the pendant over, reading the text that was inscribed on the flat surface of the triskelion.

“‘Together in Paris’,” Samuel read. His face lit up as he looked up at his uncle. “Really?”

Peter smiled and nodded. He took the necklace from Samuel and lifted it over the young prince’s head, letting the pendant fall against his chest.

The ballroom fell silent.

Samuel turned around, watching as the crowd parted and a dark figure emerged. His heart sank, his stomach twisting in knots as his eyes fell upon the woman.

She was a young lady with a golden wave of curls that cascaded down her back, bouncing off her translucent skin as she walked forward unhindered. She was dressed in a long black dress and a fur-lined coat, the tail of the coat sweeping across the floor as she glided forward. Her sapphire blue eyes sparkled in the light, but there was something about her gaze, a glint of malice that gave away the darkness in her heart.

Peter rose to his feet, gently ushering his nephew behind him as he stood defensively before the prince.

Laura and Cora ran to their mother as their father stormed forward.

“How dare you return to the palace?” the Tsar growled.

“But I am your confidante,” Kate said, her voice sickeningly sweet, “I healed your daughter.”

“For that I have thanked you, but you are no longer welcome. Now, get out!”

“You think you can banish me?” Kate scoffed, her hand absentmindedly reaching for the yellow crystal that hung from an old leather rope around her neck. “By the unholy powers vested in me, I will banish you; mark my words. You and your family will die. I will not rest until I see the end of the Hale bloodline forever!”

She turned sharply and stormed towards the large doors. The lights that filled the room blinked out, the crystals overhead catching the silvery glow of the moonlight as the chandelier swung back and forth dangerously.

“Father!” Samuel cried out.

His father looked up, noticing the chandelier. He staggered back as the chandelier crashed to the floor, scattering glass and crystal across the ballroom floor.

“Darling,” Talia called out, reaching out for her husband.

“I’m alright,” he reassured her as he stepped over to his wife’s side.

Cora clung to her father’s leg, burying her face in the fabric as he gently patted her head and hushed her tears.

Samuel and Peter ran to their family’s side; Samuel wrapped his arms around his father’s waist, holding him tight as Peter checked on his sister and Laura.

Several houseboys emerged from the darkness, holding candles. The dull glow of the flickering lights lit the ballroom as the Tsar made his apologies and the staff saw their guests out.

Peter gave his sister a look, a silent message passing between them, but Samuel knew them both well enough to know what it meant; don’t let them see how scared you are.

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

 “Laura?” Samuel’s quiet voice disturbed the darkness of the night.

Laura sat up in her bed look to where her little brother stood in the doorway to her room, holding a small candle in his hand. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t sleep,” Samuel admitted.

Laura’s shoulders dropped as she let out a soft sigh. She shuffled over in her bed and pulled back the blanket, patting the mattress beside her.

Samuel stepped over to her bedside, Cora’s little figure trailing in his shadow He set the candle down on the bedside table and lifted his little sister into the bed. He pulled himself up onto the bed, letting Laura drape the blankets over them as they curled up together, drowning out the sounds of shouting and rioting that filled the city.

At some point they must have drifted off because they woke to their mother gently shaking them awake.

“Come now,” she said softly. “We have to go.”

She lifted Cora out of the bed.

Peter took the girl from his sister’s arms, wrapping her in a thick coat.

“What’s going on?” Laura asked as her uncle passed her a coat.

“We have to go,” Peter repeated.

The sounds from outside were louder than before, the deafening roar filling the air as a crow of armed men threw themselves against the palace gates.

“Let’s go,” Talia urged, taking Cora’s hand and leading the way towards the hallway.

Peter wrapped his arm around Samuel’s shoulder as they followed Talia out of the room and down the hallway.

“Wait,” Samuel said, pulling back from his uncle. “My music box.”

He turned and ran back down the hallway.

His uncle called out his name, chasing after him back through the dark halls of the palace. He sprinted into his nephew’s room, watching as Samuel scrambled to pick up the small bejewelled music box that sat on his bedside table.

“Samuel,” his uncle said firmly. “We have to go.”

There was a deafening crash as the doors fell, the sound of heavy boots against the floors like rolling thunder as armed men and soldiers stormed the palace.

“There has to be another way out of here,” Peter said quietly.

There was a small tug at his sleeve.

Peter turned to see a young house boy pulling at the sleeve of his coat.

“This way,” the boy insisted, pulling Peter and the young prince towards an open panel in the doorway. “Follow it all the way and you’ll come out near the kitchens.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispered, leading the way into the darkness.

Samuel followed after him, the bejewelled box slipping from his fingers as his uncle pulled him into the dark tunnel.

The sounds outside the room grew louder as the soldiers drew closer. The young kitchen boy looked at the hidden passage way. He swallowed hard and pushed the door shut, turning to face the men that stormed into the room.

“Where are they, boy?” one of the soldiers demanded.

The kitchen boy didn’t reply, staring the man down defiantly.

“Where are they?!” the soldier shouted.

The kitchen boy grabbed the vase of flowers from the bedside table and hurled it at the man.

The man turned slightly, shielding himself with his arm as the vase shattered against the sleeve of his coat. Jagged pieces of porcelain rained across the floor.

The soldier charged at the boy, slamming the butt of his rifle into the boy’s cheek and knocking him to the ground.

The boy felt a rivulet of warm blood trickle across his cheek, his ears ringing and his head pounding as his heavy eyes fell shut and the cold embrace of darkness enveloped him.

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

 Laura thrashed about as the soldiers dragged her down the dark hallways beneath the palace and into the safe room. They threw her to the ground beside the rest of her family.

He father tried to catch her as she fell, holding her close and craning his neck to look her in the eye.

She gave him a sweet smile, trying to reassure him as she straightened herself up and turned to face the soldiers that gathered in the doorway.

She glared at the woman who stepped forward, her blonde hair hidden beneath a fur-lined cap.

Laura swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

The room was designed to be fortified; one door in and out. But now it felt like a coffin.

“Take aim,” a soldier shouted, his voice ringing through the night.

Kate’s emotionless eyes stared at Laura as the solider ordered, “Fire!”

The gunshots rang through the dark hallways, echoing in the confined space of the room as the bullets tore through flesh. Blood was splattered across the wooden floorboards as lifeless, bloodied bodies fell to the ground.

Searing pain tore through Laura’s side, her blood soaking into the fabric of her nightgown—clinging to her skin. She drew in deep breaths, tears pricking at her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes.

Her father’s body lay beside her, his eyes clouded and unfocused. His clothes were torn and stained red. Her mother’s still body lay beside his, her dark eyes staring into oblivion as the life drained from her body.

“Mama,” Cora whispered.

The soldiers rushed forward, grabbing Cora by her hair and hauling her to her feet.

“Leave her alone!” Laura shouted.

A second man grabbed Cora’s coat, digging into the pockets and pulling out chipped jewellery and silver lockets with bullets embedded in them.

Their faces twisted with rage as they threw the young princess to her knees again and drew a pistol, aiming it at her head.

“No!” Laura screamed.

The gunshot rang in her ears as she watched the bullet tear through her sister’s flesh, bathing her pale skin in red as her body collapsed to the floor.

Another soldier grabbed Laura, tearing her coat off.

“This one’s mine,” Kate said, grabbing Laura by her hair and dragging her out of the room.

Laura thrashed about, her head burning as Kate tightened her grip on the fistful of Laura’s long, dark hair and pulled her down the hallway and out the front door.

She dragged her into the open courtyard before the palace, a trail of red following them as Laura’s blood dripped into the snowfall.

The cold snow bit at her bare feet, the hem of her nightgown soaked and her skin prickled with goosebumps as she shivered in the cold. Searing agony flooded her veins as blood seeped from the wound where a bullet had torn through the skin over her ribs.

Kate threw her to her knees.

Laura’s long dark hair fell loose around her face, bruises marring her skin with smears of blue, black and purple. A stream of blood fell from her nose, trickling down her chin and staining the front of her gown red.

Tears welled in her eyes, glimmering in the moonlight as she blinked them back and lifted her gaze defiantly. She glared at the woman who towered over her.

Kate drew a pistol, aiming the barrel at Laura’s forehead.

“I curse you, Kate Argent,” Laura snarled. “The Hale bloodline will find you and make you pay. And when that day comes, I’ll be waiting at the gates.”

The gunshot rang out thought the night, the deafening boom echoing through the shadows as the spray of blood stained the snow red and the princess’s body fell against the icy ground.

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

 Peter held onto the sleeve of his nephew’s coat, pulling him through the crowds that gathered in the streets. They kept their heads down, shielding their faces to avoid recognition as they ran through the falling flurries of snow.

Samuel’s feet pedalled beneath him as he stumbled and staggered on the icy cobblestone paths.

“Where are we going?” Samuel asked.

“There’s a train to Paris leaving soon,” Peter told him.

A thundering rumble grew louder as a carriage came barrelling down the street towards them. The carriage struck Samuel, tearing him from his uncle’s hand.

He was thrown aside, colliding with the icy cobblestones. Blood coursed from the wound on Samuel’s head, pooling on the ground around him.

Peter cried out his name, but the crowd pulled him away, leaving his nephew’s still body lying among the muddy sludge and falling snow.

[spiralhigh]

ranking the sdr2 cast by how much their formal wear hits

this is just my opinion, but my opinions are great and i know what i’m talking about! this will be long so it’s under a cut

S TIER:

s tier is reserved for only the best of them all, the cream of the crop, the fit that i would gladly lay down my life for. s tier is the crown jewel. s tier is what everyone else should strive to be... but only one can take the prize.

#1: AKANE OWARI

the undisputed champion. this look is everything to me. EVERYTHING. the red-trim cape with the fur. the contrast of the airy, gathered blouse with those skin-tight shiny (leather? vinyl??) pants. the pumps. the belt that screams disco style. the necklace accentuating the tasteful titty window. the red white and gold color scheme  are you FUCKING WITH ME miss owari this look could bring ARMIES to their KNEES in an INSTANT. whoever drew this deserves full creative control of the danganronpa franchise and i’m not kidding

A TIER:

a tier is for the fits that frankly own bones. they’re not as jaw-dropping and legendary as owari, but they’re still razor as hell and deserve to be met with riotous applause.

#2: KAZUICHI SOUDA

kazuichi, i didn’t know you had it in you, but this FUCKS. the character of the pins on the lapels, the sneakers, and the mispinned tie. the absolute CLASS of the suspenders, watch, and tiny round glasses. the handsome slick in the hair now that the greasy beanie is gone. the tasteful highwater. he looks like the host of the larry king show if the larry king show was exclusively about ska bands and he has never looked better

#3: HIYOKO SAIONJI

tell me this isn’t the cutest shit. the colors here are EXQUISITE. the bright notes from the blue on top, the way the soft pink is a perfect middle ground of the pink + white flowers on her sleeves, the subtle way the green in her bow matches the green in her collar, the white petals breaking up the sky blue that might otherwise look out of place? remarkable. stunning.

#4: PEKO PEKOYAMA

the ELEGANCE is EVERYTHING here. the monochrome is offset by just a splash of red that ties everything together with her eyes and the flower in her hair, the checkerboard pattern is visually interesting but not distracting, and her hair in that loose ponytail with the little white ribbon? ugh. ADORABLE! but most of all, look at those BOOTS. those CUTE LITTLE HEELS on those SICK LACE-UP BOOTS..... QUEEN shit!!!

#5: CHIAKI NANAMI

rounding out our a tier is chiaki in this adorable little dress just LOOK at her!!! she looks like a little rose, a perfect flouncy skirt with a glittery mesh overlay, a fun and fresh over-the-shoulder collar, a fucking big old bow tied in the back?? i can literally feel the way this dress would feel in my hands. it’s simple and perfect and frankly a GORGEOUS color on her this is flawless

B TIER:

b tier is a perfectly respectable place to be. these fits lack the lustre and flavor of the a tier entries, but they’re still dressed to impress and they still look fine as hell.

#6: TERUTERU HANAMURA

say what you will about teruteru (and i do) but this suit is ADORABLE and it fits in with his theme + talent better than any other mfer on this list. the tasteful white/brown/red palette gives it a flashy chocolate cookie look, which is amplified in the fun pattern on the jacket. the chef’s hat switching out for a little top hat and the way the cumberbund looks a lil bit like a chocolate bar is also VERY cute

#7: THE IMPOSTOR

now on its own, the suit is just alright. a vibrant pinstripe blue three-piece with the classic red tie wouldn’t land the impostor in b tier on its own... but that FUR COAT, LUXURIOUSLY DRAPED OVER THE SHOULDERS does WONDERS to pull this look together. not only is it worn with “yeah, it’s real mink, no, you can’t touch it” confidence, but it also ties the otherwise arbitrary white loafers into the structure of the look. it’s subtle and class as hell.

C TIER

c tier is full of looks that are... fine, but ultimately either are boring, lack cohesion, or have a confusing design choice or two that make it hard to get all that amped about. c tier is a passing grade, but nothing more.

#8: NAGITO KOMAEDA

there’s a lot that’s good about this outfit, but there’s also a lot that doesn’t really work. let’s start with the good: the slutty loose bowtie and collar, the tight-fitting vest that ends before the hipbones so you can see the belt, the cute little ponytail? (chefs kiss) exquisite, all of it. but the suit itself is boring as sing, and who the hell decided to put the t-shirt symbol on the sleeves??? was it to add visual flavor to an otherwise bland suit? this does NOT have the black/white/red elegance that peko had.

#9: FUYUHIKO KUZURYUU

the silver and gold mob-boss look, complete with matching shoes vest and fedora, are a nice nod to fuyuhiko’s talent! the plaid is teetering on the edge between fun and garish to me, but the fact that it’s consistent and the only pattern means it isn’t too offensive. quick question though: why are his pant legs rolled up like that?? this isn’t a cute “cuffed at the ankle” look, dude looks like he had to wade across a pond to get to the venue. what gives

#10: GUNDAM TANAKA

out of everyone here, gundam’s suit might be the most boring of all. the scarf is just his normal scarf. the red tie and trim don’t do anything to tie the look together. the only mild point of interest is the asymmetrical vest, and i can’t even tell if that’s intentional. simply put, this “““fancy”““ outfit isn’t even in the same ZIP CODE as the level of ostentatious chuuni that gundam serves us every single day in his casual wear. maybe even worse than being ugly... it’s disappointing.

#11: IBUKI MIODA

now, look. is this dress buckwild and ugly as hell? yes. but you know what else it is? it is IBUKI MIODA’S DRESS. there might not be a single cohesive thing about this dress aside from its color scheme. the huge poofy ruffles of the skirt and arm things with the spiked bow and corset are baffling. the artist somehow managed to draw the awkward, clumping shape of the skirt to make it look exactly like an emergency cosplay sewn four hours before a convention. frankly, i can’t justify ranking it as a c! but i’m doing it anyway, because the sheer level of craftsmanship demands it, and in this house we respect diy queens that are totally off the shits.

D TIER:

d tier is for outfits that aren’t offensive, exactly... but like, they sure don’t look good! d tier is not a respectable place to be. those in d tier won’t be laughed out of the ceremony in shame, but they should really run their outfit by someone else first next time.

#12: NEKOMARU NIDAI

now don’t get me wrong: i have nothing but respect for the titties-out look. keeping the shirt unbuttoned all the way down to where the lapels of the jacket end? that’s sexy as hell. however, this flawless idea has a confusing execution. why emerald green and orange? what’s with the... long-sleeved printed (hawaiian?) shirt? why the red pocket square? and the jacket itself, while fitted perfectly along the chest and midsection, has a weird, unflattering scallop shape flaring out at the bottom. i want to like this fit, but there are just too many bad choices.

#13: HAJIME HINATA

oh, hajime... literally nothing about this ensemble is it. the creamy manila suit might have had potential if there were literally any color variation in the vest (or potentially shoes) to give it a little more shape, or even if you just went with a white shirt underneath it! i could get behind a light, off-monochrome look! but that leprechaun-green shirt is downright perplexing to me. it looks like a mistake! did you get dressed in the dark? did you spill something on your other shirt? this is a mess.

F TIER:

f tier is inexcusable. f tier should never have happened. how does it get this bad. who did this? who’s responsible for this?

#14: SONIA NEVERMIND

y’know, the colors are pretty! i dig the white and teal! but... girl... what the fuck is this construction. the ruffles are all over the place. the bodice looks like it has less fabric than space it needs to cover. the bottom half of the skirt looks like it was sewn on as an afterthought because the top half was too short for dress code. what’s with the weird choker collar detached from everything else. why is the hairband a slightly different shade of green. so many decisions were made here and none of them are flattering

#15: MAHIRU KOIZUMI

yknow, i like the idea behind this. i can see what you were going for! the dress on its own might have worked, even! but everything else about it is just... so ugly. what the fuck is happening with those shoes??? the sheer black tights aren’t the sexy OL look you think they are. the collar of the dress looks like it’s... braided for some reason??? those earrings are so huge for no payoff, statement jewelry with nothing to say, and worst of all... that headband. GIRL. that headband and that belt...... there’s nothing here. also i love orange but it’s not her color.

and finally... the worst.

#16: MIKAN TSUMIKI

what the fuck. what the fuck is this. this is straight up cheap rubber fetish gear. why is the HAT rubber? that skirt ruffle makes this look like fucking polly pocket clothes. why the fuck is she wearing that. the clothes are so bad that it makes her hair look like rubber too. was she dared to wear this? is this some cruel punishment? i don’t even know what to say. this is the worst possible outfit. there is not even one redeeming quality about it.

[jinmukangwrites]

Mutual (Mis)Understandings

Summary: Wild and Zelda seem to be engaged... and Twilight like the worried mother hen of the group that he is overreacts and misunderstands greatly. 

Or, Zelda and Wild are best friends, but they’re also both arcace and the only reason they’ll ever get married is for the Hylian equivalent of tax-benefits. 

Note: this was purely self indulgent and was written instead of my actual next LU fic. In the mean time, enjoy this. From now on I only write aroace Wild and Flora and if you don’t like it then don’t talk to me lmao

-o-o-o-o- 

Twilight supposes it was only a matter of time before they ran into Wild's Zelda. Because, despite Wild's Hyrule being so much larger than it's versions before it, Zelda apparently was still a woman who could not be confined to the walls of her castle. If she wanted to explore and meet new people, then she would. According to Wild, that is.

Zelda is, at first glance, the embodiment of grace and beauty. Her hair is golden and her eyes the color of the grass that flourishes on the hills. Her lips are full, and colored not a perfect red but not a perfect pink either. Her hair, while chopped short, is braided and styled perfectly in a way that compliments her beauty even more.

But then, you look at her traveling clothes and the twigs in her hair, and you realize that Wild once told you a story about how she tried to force a frog into his mouth.

She stands in the center of Terry Town, near a beautiful fountain built around a small shrine for the goddess Hylia, and in a strange reincarnation way, a tribute for her as well. As the group walks into the town that's suspended on a circle of land that towers high over a small lake, she turns and smiles, delight sparkling in her eyes when her gaze lands on her knight. It's an unexpected reunion, one that started with Wild wanting to show them something he's proud of, and one that's turning out to be more of a treat than any of them expected. Especially, when besides Twilight, Wild lets out a happy gasp and runs ahead of the group, slamming into his princess with a tight and joy-filled hug. The moment is so touching that even Legend smiles.

The hug lasts a little longer before Zelda and Wild part, splitting to stand next to each other with shoulders brushing. They look perfect together. Like they were made for each other. Wild smiles at the group and Zelda matches his smile but in a more polite and curious way.

"I believe introductions are in order?" She asks, though it's not really a question. More like an invitation.

Twilight looks over at Wild, a matching look of awkwardness passing between them. Hyrule pulls at his collar nervously. It's always… strange to introduce themselves to people. While many people are named Link to honor heroes, it is still strange to have nine boys traveling together all introduce themselves as such. They really need to come up with better names than rancher and traveler and the old man.

Thankfully, Time is ever the wisest and the owner of the group's meager stash of brain cells. He steps forward with a respectable bow. "Princess Zelda," he says, standing up from his bow, "we have traveled with Link for a few months now and have found ourselves caught in… quite a complicated story. Perhaps, if I may be so bold, it would be wise to allow us a more private space for introductions?"

"I see," Zelda says, her polite smile turning into something a little sharper. Not in an offended way, but in a way that she knows something that they don't. Thankfully, she doesn't keep them waiting for long. "Yes, perhaps it would be wise. Though, it seems I must have to introduce myself as well before we begin. It's not princess. It's queen."

-o-o-o-o-

Twilight sometimes keeps himself up at night wondering about how his Zelda might take the news of there being eight more heroes carrying the name "Link" around. It's hard to tell with her, and it's not like they're close. Their relationship is strictly "Princess and Hero", and the most they have in common besides the whole reincarnation thing is Midna.

Which is a topic both of them tend to avoid.

So really, he cannot say for sure how she'd react. Would she believe it? Would she take it in stride? Twilight can really only imagine her taking in the information with a straight face before saying it doesn't concern her so begone.

One thing's for sure, she wouldn't react like Wild's Zelda does.

Because, well, if Twilight thought the kids at his home village were made of skin, bone, and questions, then the Zelda before him is made of questions, questions, and more questions.

"Who is the first among you? What year was it? Strange, it seems you used a different calendar than us. And it's peculiar you two have the same dates but live in completely different worlds- oh you and your Zelda were childhood friends? And you have two Zeldas'? What about you? What is your kingdom like-?

By the end of the afternoon, everyone's mouths had run dry from talking and Warriors was about to jump into the fountain at the center of town yelling about thirst before a tall Gerudo lady stopped him with a level look.

Zelda and Wild have broken off from the group; the town's people and the various guards who must be here for Zelda's protection (even though Twilight's sure she can definitely more than protect herself, it must be for their own peace of mind) have stopped giving them those you nasty foreigners looks and have actually started to seek out conversation in the form of you have money, I have things to sell, wink wink. As the sun crept closer towards the edges of Death Mountain, everyone one-by-one decided the beds promised to them at the inn sounded more interesting than sitting around and doing nothing.

Time being one of the first to retire, not that Twilight blames him. The question "Which one of you is the hero from ten thousand years ago?" weighs heavy on all their minds. The lore of that hero doesn't sound familiar to any of them, and it left the whole group wondering how many lives they have lived, and if they are destined to add more to their group of nine.

Regardless, Twilight finds himself one of the last members to head to bed, and not for the lack of trying. He had accidentally mentioned wrestling around a towering Goron and his little brother and had, in a sting of events he was entirely unwilling in, found himself wrestling Greyson with a whole crowd of townspeople watching with jeers and enthusiasm. Greyson wasn't a full grown Goron, so it was surprisingly easy to knock him out of their makeshift ring carved into the ground with a stick without the aid of his iron boots.

After winning that fight, the Gerudo lady who probably made Warriors wet his pants with her glare decided she wanted in on the action, to which Wind and Hyrule screamed out he was a coward for turning her down by saying he definitely already knows she'll win.

Because she definitely will win. He's seen fully grown pumpkins smaller than her biceps.

But, Twilight is ever the gentleman and absolutely not a coward and caved even though he knows he will walk away from this with a few new bruises.

Turns out, the kind of wrestling the Gerudo lady (who he finds out is named Rhondson judging by the "TEAR HIS ARMS OFF, RHONDSON!" that was yelled out from the crowd as she knocked his feet out from below him) was trying to do was different from goat and Goron wrestling, and he was completely unprepared for her to bring him to the ground and attempt at pinning him down like a madwoman. He's never been so terrified in his entire life.

He should have explained the rules better to more than just Greyson.

He was in the middle of trying to shove her off from him (because apparently a loss is being pinned down for three seconds as refereed by her husband and Twilight is not about to lose so easily with Wind in the sidelines laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes) when he notices Wild and his Zelda leave a building and quietly retreat towards the far cliff edges of town. Rhondson seems to notice this as well, because she pauses in her tortuous wrestling long enough to mutter under her breath "young love..."

To which. Twilight promptly short-circuits.

Young love?

Wild?

And Zelda?

HIS WILD?! AND QUEEN ZELDA?

Yeah sure, he knew Zelda and Wild were close, but Wild was the most… rowdy and dirty piece of work he's ever met. And sure, Zelda isn't exactly the most poise and elegant creature in the world—the twigs still in her hair, the mud running up her boots to her trousers, the ever slowly becoming undone braids in her hair that she doesn't seem to truly care about are all testament of that. Twilight is just… well, he didn't think Wild had it in him. To catch the attention and affection of someone like Zelda… Twilight needs to hand it to him. He guesses Wild can be romantic when he wants to be.

Unfortunately, thanks to his little brain explosion, Rhondson manages to pin him down long enough for Hudson to smack the ground three times. (Seriously, what is up with the son part of everyone's name?)

Rhondson lets him up with a triumphant smirk and Twilight lays on the ground, winded.

"Young love?" He croaks, because his brain is still trying to process. It's like adding two and two together and getting goat.

Rhondson's smirk seems to widen even more as she extends a hand, golden jewelery clinking on her toned wrists. "Don't you know? The Queen and her knight are engaged."

She says it casually like it's nothing truly new or exciting as she lifts him to his feet.

Wind's laughter from the sidelines suddenly turns into choking noises. Twilight can only short-circuit some more.

Because what.

Rhondson doesn't explain anymore as she accepts cheering from the rest of the town. No one explains as the crowd disperses, the sun fully behind Death Mountain and the moonrise breeze moving in with the smell of the ocean. Soon enough, Twilight is still standing where he's been left, Wind sitting on the ground cross-legged with his chin in his hands, and Hyrule standing besides him looking unsure if he should suggest bed or something else.

Engaged.

Wild is seventeen (plus one hundred but that doesn’t count) years old and he's engaged.

He knows the age of adulthood changes every so often, but honestly at least wait until you're twenty before you commit! Or let Twilight be married first!

He slowly manages to crawl out from his churning thoughts back into his body, and the first thing he does is look towards where Zelda and Wild disappeared to and suddenly his brain is thinking of a whole matter of things the two of them might be doing. Alone. With no one to catch them.

He's moving to follow them before he can make himself rethink to maybe respect their choices and boundaries. Hyrule, perhaps thinking the same thing, grabs onto the tail of his wolf's pelt.

"Wait!" Hyrule says, trying to be the voice of reason, which is strange because normally that's Twilight's job, "maybe we should let them be… alone-"

"Traveler, are you a man or a mouse?!" Wind demands, catching up to the two of them, looking way too determined to intrude upon a potential make-out session.

Hyrule squeaks. "M-man!"

Twilight ignores them as he creeps towards the buildings the two love birds disappeared behind.

"Besides, the champion brought this upon himself," Wind continues. "He should have told us he was going to be the future King of Hyrule. He deserves it."

It; being a good sneaking up on. Twilight finds himself agreeing. They've known Wild for how long and he hasn't told them at all that he was engaged?

The topic of love and settling down has come up many times in their group.

"Champion, do you like anyone?" "Nah, the only thing I like is cooking." "Hey champion, after all this and settling down, what are your plans?" "To become a world renowned chef." "Cook! I saw the face you were making when Malon was talking about girls! Who were you thinking of?" "Food. Duh."

The sniveling little weasel. To think Twilight fell for it.

Twilight holds up his hand as they approach the buildings, Wind and Hyrule quiet down their conversations. It seems even though Hyrule took a rare attempt at peacekeeping, he has ultimately decided upon even though I don't like it I still want to come along. They poke their heads around the corner of the building and find…

Nothing.

No one is here.

How interesting.

Wind gives a groan of outrage and Hyrule releases a sigh of relief so powerful the grass waves a little. Twilight continues forward and looks at the soft dirt on the ground that leads to the sheer unforgiving drop of cliff. They should really fence this off, he's seen the children in the town and one of them could easily fall.

"I can't believe the cook, the sly fox," Wind was grumbling and not for the first time Twilight decides to not ask how the kid knows so much about stuff like this. Hyrule says something back about maybe there's a reason Wild's kept it secret but Twilight doesn't listen in too hard as his eyes catch on something in the ground.

There. Footsteps. Fresh. Two different sizes, one small and the other slightly larger. Could easily belong to a queen wearing muddy boots and a knight.

He follows the footsteps and his stomach jumps when he follows them to the edge of the cliff.

Did they… were they so... that they didn't notice the cliff?!

He rushes towards the quite literal edge of Terry Town and frantically looks down into the water below. It's hard to see with the light of the quarter moon creeping up behind them.

He can't see a thing, but thankfully Wind has a knack for looking into the horizon because his voice cuts through his internal panic with the pointing of a hand.

"Look!"

Twilight follows the pointing finger until his eyes land on the distant sight of two people sharing one lantern in the forest past the edge of the lake. One is vaguely femininely shaped and the other about the same height but with less curves. They're walking through the tall grass and wirey trees, past the empty husks of what Wild calls Guardians.

Until Wild points out something and they share a look before running behind one of the husks and staying there.

How… how unseemly! Didn't one of those things kill Wild?!

Twilight grabs at the grapple in his bag, thankful he decided to keep that with him instead of putting everything in the inn, and ties the end of it around one of the nearby fence posts. The shore of the lake doesn't look too far from here. He should be able to swim it. Easy.

Wind and Hyrule follow him down without complaint, as Twilight drops the other end of his grapple down with the fill length of chain extended. It takes a few minutes and a few stomach churning, chain wiggling moments with the wind for Twilight to finally find himself at the end of the line, just a short distance from the water.

He hopes there's no monsters in there.

Well. Here goes nothing.

He lets go of the chain and his stomach flips just a bit before he hits the surprisingly refreshing water. Not too cold but not worryingly warm. It's also shallow, his toes brushing the bottom for just a moment before he swims towards where he thinks the shore is and upwards until he reaches the surface with a gasp. There's two more splashes behind him and soon the three of them find themselves gasping and dripping on the muddy and rocky shore of the lake. Hyrule looks the worst out of all of them, perhaps not as used to swimming, but they at least all made it with no monster battles or near drownings. So a win.

The light of the two love bird's lantern is still a good distance away, and by the time they near most of the water has dripped away from their clothes and hair, leaving them uncomfortably damp.

And as they near closer, the louder they can hear… giggling.

Twilight puts a hand to his lips and stops Hyrule and Wind where they stand. Wind looks about ready to throw a fit with a string of embarrassing things like I know what sex is and 'm not a kid but thinks the wiser of it when Hyrule frantically makes cut throat notion, signalling yelling is not the best idea right now.

Twilight takes it upon himself to approach the husk of the Guardian himself. He feels… icky. Like he shouldn't impose. But there's such a thing as chastity and being too young to accidentally become with child. Twilight knows Wild and Zelda has been away from each other for some time, and the… urge must be strong, but he will not allow his protégé to make a mistake he might regret before he's even married.

"Oh Link, it's beautiful!" Zelda says, breathless.

Twilight takes a deep breath and walks around the Guardian with his hands on his hips. Hopefully Zelda doesn't order his death for this.

"What are you two doing?!"

And then he pauses, eyes wide as Wild jumps up from where he's been crouching, pulling out his sword and looking more angry than what Twilight's ever seen him, before shock and curiosity replaces the anger. Zelda is standing behind him, having jumped to her feet and pulling out a dagger, and behind her a green firebug flies away.

They're both fully clothed and looking at Twilight like he's grown a second head.

"Um." Twilight says smartly, his brain going back into process-mode as Zelda rolls her eyes, puts her dagger away, and looks behind her for the firebug that's flown away.

"Are they decent?" Hyrule's voice asks, which is something Wind doesn't bother to do before he steps around the Guardian to stand by Twilight with a disappointed face. Someone really needs to wash that kid's brain out with soap.

"Decent?" Wild asks, confused. Zelda doesn't say anything, she's crouched further into the forest and creeping up on another firebug.

They were… looking at bugs.

"It's okay, traveler," Twilight says, releasing a breath and thanking Hylia and all the other spirits for everything somehow being a misunderstanding. "We were wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Wild asks, sounding even more confused.

Twilight shakes his head and grabs Wind's head, wrapping his hand around the boy's mouth before he can say anything gross. Hyrule walks over, looking as relieved as he might if he were told the spirit of the demon Ganondorf was forever destroyed. Which is to say, he was looking extremely relieved.

"Oh good," Hyrule says as Wild mutters what's probably explicits behind Twilight's hand. "We thought you were having- mmph?!"

Twilight has successfully grabbed Hyrule's face with his other hand and covers his mouth too. Now, with both boys successfully gagged and pinned to his chest, Twilight gives Wild his best smile and hopes it doesn't look too conspicuous and nervous.

"We saw the light and thought you two saw something dangerous," he lies easily.

Wild gives him a slight suspicious look, his eyes flickering between Twilight's two captives and Twilight himself before shrugging and putting his sword away. Twilight had to fight to keep a straight face as Hyrule elbows his side and Wind licks his hand.

"It's Zelda's first time at Terry Town, and I wanted to show her the creatures that call this place home," Wild explains, not looking all that concerned that Twilight is still holding two of their group members captive by the faces. Hyrule is licking too now, but Twilight can't trust them not to say the sex word yet. Twilight grew up the perpetual older brother of four kids in Ordon, he's been in positions like this before with much more slobbery licking.

"Oh that's good then, no danger!" Twilight says, keeping in a gasp as Hyrule elbows his side harder and Wind makes a mad grasp for his hair.

Thankfully, Zelda speaks up in a whisper-yell from where she's crouching. "Link! There's a wolf!"

Wild gives the other heroes a wide grin before he quietly sprints towards Zelda and couches besides her. The two begin to talk to each other in hushed voices.

Twilight let's a second pass, and then he releases his captives.

Hyrule takes in a deep gasp like Twilight had been strangling him—he wasn't—and Wind spits at the ground furiously like what he licked had been poisonous—Twilight is doubtful the palm of his hand tasted that bad.

Before either of them could recover, Twilight leans down and grabs them both by the points of their ears.

"Do. Not. Say. A. Word."

Wind whacks his hand away, scowling. "Okay okay! Geez-"

Twilight gives them both level glares and eventually they both nod in agreement. Whatever misunderstanding has just happened, Wild and Zelda were to remain unaware of it. Period.

With the unspoken agreement, the three of them walk up to Wild and Zelda, of which Wild is currently in a long ramble in the differences between all the kinds of wolves in Hyrule. Apparently, wolves in Akkala have slightly shorter snouts compared to Hyrule Field Wolves even though they have the same coloring. Interesting. Kind of useless to Twilight, but he'd much rather listen to Wild explain the slight differences of wolves than… other things.

When Zelda requests to see the two kinds of wolves side-by-side, Wild promises he has pictures of both of them on his little magic box thing.

And that's... pretty much how the next few hours go. Wild and Zelda run bush to bush, talking excitedly between each other about black winged butterflies and the abilities gained from eating a golden beetle, and the three other heroes follow along like lost puppies, not able to offer a single shred of new information to the chatty environmentalists. Twilight manages to get in a small comment about the Ordon goats—and ignores the triplet groaning from Wild, Wind, and Hyrule—but after he fails to produce a picture of his favorite animal Zelda loses interest and moves on to poking the leaves of some random flower.

Twilight sighs. Someday someone will worship the Ordon goats like they deserve.

Sigh.

Someday.

Hours pass and Wind gives a huge very bored sounding yawn, which somehow earns the pity of Zelda. "You're right, small pirate Link. It is probably about time we should head back." She turns towards the Wild with a glint in her eyes. "I'm sure the guards are missing us."

Wild snickers and Twilight rolls his eyes before turning to look at where the cliffs surrounding Terry Town. Then, something occurs to him.

"Hey, you came down with your paraglider?" Twilight says and Wild nods slowly, patting the folded up contraption on his back. "How did you two plan on getting back to town?"

Matching looks of we didn't think of that flashes on Zelda and Wild's faces.

Twilight sighs, turning to Zelda. "Think you can climb a chain or do you want to walk up the long way?"

Zelda narrows her eyes and rolls up her sleeves. Her biceps, too, resemble that of a grown pumpkin. Twilight won't ask if she's sure, he bets she can take him down wrestling as well.

"Alright then," he says.

They walk back towards the lake as a group, and Twilight does his best to comfort Hyrule who's glaring at the water with resentment. It will definitely be harder getting back up than it was getting down. They'll have to swim the lake and climb up the cliffs a bit before jumping to the hanging chain and climbing the rest of the way up there. It'll be a fun workout.

As they walk, Twilight falls back to fall into step with Zelda and Wild. Wind and Hyrule continue onwards in front of them.

"So…" Twilight says under his breath, just loud enough for the two champions of this time to hear them. They both give him curious looks. "Engaged, huh?"

Twilight expected blushing or blubbering or something. What he got was a full on belly laugh from the queen and a rolling-of-the-eyes from her knight and husband-to-be.

"Who told you," Wild demands as Zelda laughs on, earning slightly concerned looks from Hyrule and Wind, "was it Rhondson? I bet it was Rhondson."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Twilight asks, ignoring Wild's (accurate) accusations towards Rhondson.

At this, a flash of guilt passes over Wild's face and Zelda quiets, looking interested. "It… never came up?"

"You forgot, didn't you?" Zelda asks. Wild gives her an apologetic look and she scoffs, looking shockingly more amused than anything.

"I didn't... forget. I was just focused on the quest!"

"It's okay, Link. I forgot too."

"Oh thank Hylia."

The two of them fall into some strange companionable understanding silence and Twilight is left completely and frustratingly out of an apparent inside joke or some sort.

He sighs. "Look, I know this might sound weird, coming from me," Zelda and Wild give him their attention with matching expressions of curiosity, "but I know you're both young and probably haven't been taught very well about… adult matters, so…" oh this is so awkward, they're looking confused, "if you have any questions about… um… urges or desires-"

"Oh!" Zelda says, clapping her hands together in front of her. "You mean sex!"

Twilight chokes on his words and Wild nearly trips into the dirt. Zelda looks like she hasn't said anything strange at all.

"Don't worry, Mr Goat Farmer Link. Link and I know all about sex and we decided we will not being doing it," Zelda says as if she's reassuring a worried soldier or something similar. Indifferent. Straight faced.

"Y-yeah," Wild says after he had refound his footing. "Strictly business. Our marriage."

"I was tired of Impa asking when I'll get married and produce an heir," Zelda explains easily, though she gave a slight disgusted tone at the word produce. "I am much more interested in so many other things, but Impa was getting insistent." Zelda rolls her eyes.

"So Zelda decided to ask me to marry her," Wild puts in quietly, "and I told her that um… I'm not interested in her or in anyone that way, but she said the same thing and then told me that it would benefit us both to marry anyway and so… yeah."

"Impa would stop bugging me about getting married and Link would have unlimited access to the castle kitchens once it's fully repaired. I can continue my journey to study and rebuilt this country in peace and Link can continue his dreams of cooking."

Twilight finds himself nodding, because it makes just as much sense as it doesn't make sense. Which means he doesn't get it but they do so he won't argue on it. "But what about… continuing the royal line?"

"The line will die with me," Zelda says. Like that wasn't a royal bombchu-shell . "Because I will not be bearing any children. We will adopt or I will choose someone I trust to take the throne when the time is right. We will decide when the time comes." She grabs Wild's hand and he squeezes in reply. "Together."

Twilight nods again, deciding against arguing that too.

"Is that what you thought we were doing, rancher?" Wild asks. "Having…"

Twilight's cheeks heat up. "Nope. Not at all."

"Oh, okay…"

Wild definitely doesn't believe it, and he's smirking, but it seems he will save Twilight from embarrassment for the rest of the night. No promises tomorrow though, Twilight's sure.

Turns out, Zelda can absolutely crush them all at swimming and scaling a cliff with a hanging chain. She is hardly even winded when they all reach the top. She bids them all farewell and heads towards the home that has graciously lended her a guest room for her stay. The guards all look extremely relieved to see her, and they disappear into the home with a final wave from Zelda towards their direction.

"I can't believe you're engaged, gremlin," Wind says through a yawn and Wild laughs.

"We're just really good friends," he replies, and Twilight smiles. The trust between the two of them must be so strong regardless of physical desire. He still doesn't understand it, but Wild looks happy and Zelda looks happy and they both clearly love each other.

In their own way.

And Twilight can respect that.

[theunquenchablethirst]

Home Pt1: The Orphanage (Jeremiah X Reader)

First multi-chapter fic I’ve ever written, so critics please be gentle, but feedback is much appreciated. This chapter is just about introducing the reader to the story, but I do have more chapters ready to go out. Lemme know if you want them ☺️

Slow burn and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse

Find Pt.2 here

Reader is an orphan about to turn 18 when a wealthy man visits the orphanage looking for an older girl. She is put up as a possible option and she isn’t happy about it.

Masterlist

Growing up in the orphanage was horrible. They treated us all like workhorses from the moment we arrived. They would demand so much from us from such an early age and when we couldn’t do it, we would get beaten or starved or have to spend the night in the basement with the rats. If not all three. And then they wondered why we didn’t have the strength for all the hard labour they forced upon us.

They didn’t care about us one bit. They used to send us to clean rich people's houses to make money off us. I remember one girl got sent out and came back covered in bruises. She tried to tell them she didn’t want to go back, that the guy was a creep and he touched her. They still sent her and one day she just disappeared. We all knew what happened, but we didn’t dare say anything. We were the weak ones and in Gotham, nobody cares about the weak ones.

I remember praying every night for some nice couple to come and save me. Adopt me. But year after year passed and I learned to abandon those dreams. I’d read in the paper about some guy called Jerome Valeska. He’d murdered his mom. I also saw him when I’d been sent out on maid duty, on a client's TV when they were watching the news. He seemed unhinged, like a rabid dog, talking into the camera about sanity and how we were all just prisoners and cogs. He said was the leader of a gang called the Maniax. We’d all heard of them at the orphanage and what they’d done. I decided if that was what family could do to you, then maybe it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t like anyone was coming for me anyway.

Instead, I focused on counting the days to my 18th birthday. They kicked you out once you turned 18, but it was a time everyone in the orphanage looked forward to. I remember how excited I was when the time crawled ever closer. It was just a few weeks, but time seemed to slow down as they were passing. It was painful.

I had everything I was going to do planned out in my head. First, I was going to punch the head master square in the nose and tell him just how much I hated him. Then I was going to walk my ass straight to the GCPD and let them know everything. It was my chance get that place shut down forever. To help the other kids and get them sent somewhere decent. I would be stood out front watching the day it closed. Watching with the biggest, tooth baring smile on my face.

I still hate that I never got the chance.

My 18th was a few weeks away and I could taste my freedom. Everyone was hyping me up for it and some of the younger ones were telling me how much they were going to miss me and trying to spend as much time with me as they could. There were a few sour apples because they were jealous, but I understood and I would squeeze them all so tightly before I left.  

“Stop daydreaming and get back to the floor!” A harsh voice came and I was brought back to reality with a smack to the back of my head.

It was the head master's assistant, Mr Grimes. A name that suited him well. He was stalking the halls again, looking for the daydreamers like me so he could tear them down. I was supposed to be scrubbing the wooden floorboards, but I let my mind run away with me for a minute. I should’ve known better by then.

He got halfway down the hallway, trapsing dirt over where I’d just cleaned, when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.

“You’re up tomorrow, by the way.” He said, in that matter-of-fact tone that made everyone despise him that extra bit more.

“What?” I must’ve heard him wrong.

“You’re up. Some rich guy’s coming in looking for an older girl. That means you.”

“I can’t be. I’m getting out next month.”

“It’s right here in black and white. And you know I don’t make mistakes.” He gestured to the folder under his arm that had the details for tomorrow in it and apparently my name was listed inside.

I stopped to let the wheels in my head turn and try and figure this out. Being up meant that you were going to be presented for possible adoption. I couldn’t be... could I? Not now I was this close? Mr Grimes turned to leave, but turned back once more.

“By the way, says here this guy's 26. So, he’s probably not looking for a daughter. And if he’s coming here instead of some maid agency... Well, I'll let you think about that.”  

Mr Grimes smiled one of the slimiest smiles I’d ever seen before walking away. I knew what he meant and I also knew that nobody here cared. I threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, causing a splash. I was so angry. Angry that my plans could be potentially ruined, that I could be adopted by some rich guy with nefarious intentions, angry that they would let that happen to any of the girls here.

I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes, but quickly told myself off for it. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry for this place any longer years ago. It felt like giving it power or losing to it and I was not going to give this dump the satisfaction. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Knowing what tomorrow was going to bring sat on my shoulders like two boulders. I was either going to see one of my sisters be taken away to god knows what, or be taken myself. I hadn’t told anybody about it. I didn’t want anybody else feeling this dread.  

Morning came. The wakeup call was 7am sharp. Everyone stirred and groaned, but they knew they’d regret it if they didn’t get up with the bell. Now began the battle for the showers. First come, first serve for the hot water. If you were too slow you had to shower in water like ice. However, I wasn’t in the mood to battle it out for hot water. I would feel terrible if I got some and the girl that got adopted today didn’t, so I let them all have war without me. I was used to the cold water anyway.

Downstairs at breakfast I couldn’t eat. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach and if I ate anything I would just throw it back up. The food was disgusting anyway.  I sat there with a glass of water deep in thought until a bell rang that caught all of our attention. The only time that bell rang was when the head master was going to be joining us for breakfast, which was rare. But in he came and sat at the front in front of all of us, Mr Grimes standing at his side like a loyal dog. I knew why he was here. He was going to break the news.

“Good morning children.” He said in his dull, boring voice, looking over the room as if scanning it.

“Good morning, head master.” Everyone replied in unison. We knew the drill.

“I have an exciting announcement.”

Everyone was gripped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Now, this does only concern the girls. Boys, perhaps next time.”

A few whispers could be heard as everyone looked around at each other.  

“There will be a man coming in later. A wealthy man. He is going to take one of you home.”

Smiles could be seen on my sisters faces and they continued to whisper to each other curiously.

“Unfortunately, not all of you are candidates. Mr Grimes has a list of everyone that is going to be presented. When he calls your name, you are to go back upstairs and change into your display clothes. We must make a good impression if we are to find homes, girls.”

Mr Grimes opened the folder he had with him yesterday and pulled out a piece of paper. All of my sisters were on the edges of their seats, biting their lips, fingers crossed. All of them hoping today could be the day. I was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Shelby... Lisa... Mary... Joanne... Bethany.... And...” Then he called my name. The girls smiles reached ear to ear and they giggled to themselves as they stood up. We were all the oldest girls, 17 or few months away.  

“Congratulations, girls. Today could be the start of a new life... for one of you.” The headmaster also rose from his seat and he left the room leaving Mr Grimes to finish.

“You girls, upstairs and make yourselves look half human. The rest of you, better luck next time.”

Back in our dorm all the girls were laughing and smiling. They were all so happy, getting their presentation clothes ready. They were all the same. The outfit we had to wear if we were up. A black skirt that reached just below the knees with a black, quarter sleeve shirt with a white collar. Our only pair of good, clean white socks and black plimsoles. We were all identical in these outfits, except for different things we would do with our hair. Some would do braids, some pony tails or buns. The lucky ones managed to scrounge up some cute clips and bows. It was all very exciting for everyone. Everyone, but me.

“I can’t believe it! One of us is getting out of this soggy shack!” Laughed Shelby.

“I know! I knew keeping that lucky penny was worth it!”  Mary giggled as she pulled a penny out of her shoe and kissed it.

“Whoever it is that goes, we’ll still always be sisters, right?” Joanne piped up. She had always had a nervous disposition.  

The girls all stopped. They were so giddy with the news that they forgot today was also goodbye for one of us. The sudden sadness in the air was palpable. I could see tears start to gather in their eyes and my heart broke.

“Stop it. Stop it all of you. No matter what happens today, we will all always be sisters. We’ve been through so much together that even if we are scattered to all corners of the globe, we’ll still all be sisters. Nothing can change that. Ever.” I forced, half scolding them. We huddled together and began saying how much we loved each other, going over memories we had. We stayed like that until the bell rang, letting us know we only had a little time left before the line-up.

We stood lined up by the front door. I’d never liked this bit. It felt like we were on display in a shop window. Like we were on sale.

“Is this the best you could do? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t just walk away.” Mr Grimes scoffed as he looked us up and down. He was the one who was going to be introducing us. The head master stayed in his office, he only dealt with the paperwork of it.

“And don’t say anything, unless he talks to you. Nobody buys a cow for its personality.”  

We heard a car pull up outside and the nerves kicked in.

“Sounds like he’s here. Stand up straight, girls. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

Then there it was. The sound I’d been dreading since yesterday afternoon.

Knock, knock, knock...

“Let the sale commence.”

[bat-besties]

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Remus is the most eccentric customer who visits Janus and Virgil's café. When he goes missing after talking to a mysterious stranger, Janus resolves to investigate further- and Virgil isn't letting him go alone.

AO3 10k 

Huge thanks to @mariniacipher, I could not have written this without her. She let me talk about the idea for hours, it has somehow developed into a series, and the story itself took a real twist because of talking to her! Another massive thank you to @5-crofters-jams, who did a marathon edit of the entire piece for me, and has made the story so much smoother and more effective (and much less British because my original dialogue did upset her American sensibilities XD) Also thanks to @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, who knew everything I needed about pigeon corpses!

CW: dead bird, touching the bird corpse, bird funeral, Remus levels of comments about gore and innuendo, drug mention, mention of vomiting, kidnapping and captivity, feeling nauseous from anxiety, light dehumanization, brief allusion to racist violence

- 

Remus was...

(There was usually a little gesture there: Virgil’s rolled eyes, or Janus’ helplessly fond smile, or a disapproving look from Remy-)

....Remus.

Their anarchist cafe saw its fair share of unusual customers but only one of them was, well, Remus.

Morning sunlight threw beams which striped the posters covering the walls- old propaganda posters mixed with ads for tutors, food banks, and drag shows. There was a quiet chatter of customers, occasionally broken up by bursts of laughter or a called greeting to another patron as they came in. Kids from the skatepark sat on a pile of beanbags charging their phones, having given up the comfortable chairs for a small group of elderly butches with stretched tattoos who were now speaking with slang from fifty years ago. A mother whose baby was trying to grab onto her braids was trying to feed him with one hand and hold her husband’s with the other. A college student frowning at their laptop screen and consuming coffee at an alarming rate was seemingly oblivious to the punk trying to discreetly read their laptop stickers. One of a Pan-African flag matched the full-sized one on the wall, swaying with wafts of coffee and baked goods along with spider plants and assorted pride flags. Old photos of a Black Panther group in the town, reprinted and signed by some of their patrons, were framed proudly on the walls.

Since everyone had been served, Virgil was taking a few breaths to check over the register and prepare for the next rush. The rhythm of checking, preparing, and letting the background chatter fade into the background blended into a pleasant, thoughtless routine. Cups out. Setting out more sandwiches. Look over the register. Maybe get something from the back-

“Morning, shitwad!”

Virgil ducked under the counter as something thumped into the coffee machine behind him, and a few of the regulars laughed in good nature.

“Oh, good morning, darling,” Janus replied smoothly, appearing from the kitchen. He was wearing a yellow shirt which contrasted with his deep brown skin perfectly, as well as a bowler hat and dapper bow-tie. He pulled plastic gloves over his hands with all the elegance of a debutante preparing for a ball.

There was a shrill wolf whistle. “Those are some sexy wrists!” was the next comment, followed by a squawking laugh, and Virgil rolled his eyes as his friend brought a flustered hand up to adjust his collar. Every day, he faced the deep attraction between the most sophisticated person he knew and the most outlandish, and he didn’t know which was more obnoxious. As Virgil popped back up, Janus reached over to the projectile on the back counter. It was the small, feathery body of a dead pigeon, carefully wrapped in cling wrap.

Virgil gave Janus a long-suffering look and got out a bottle of disinfectant. “Morning, Remus,” he grumbled, despite his irritation. “What can I get for you today?”

“My friend died at 3am last night,” he replied instead. “I need to store her in your fridge until you both get off work, and then we’ll hold her funeral!”

When they were alive, Remus treated the pigeons as gently as they did each other-

That is to say, he was ruthlessly protective of chicks, ready to grab and move anyone encroaching on territory, and, if pecked, was fully ready to bite back. Still, at his two-tone whistle a whole flock of assorted birds would fly down to meet him. His eyes would shine bright as they flew around him like a feathered whirlwind, and settled on the surfaces all around him like a hopeful congregation as he fed them with whatever he had. Despite their number, almost all had names and ascribed personalities.

Exactly how he could tell the difference between two seemingly identical pigeons Virgil had no idea, and he wasn’t entirely sure that Remus wasn’t fucking with him about it.

“Why did you throw her if you’re trying to preserve her?” Virgil said, but he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. In fairness, it didn’t look too damaged by the blow. It would take a lot to change the kindness Remus showed the doves, as roughly as he showed it.

“I thought you’d catch her, emo! It would have been a beautiful moment!” he protested, throwing his grey eyes open wide.

Virgil took a deep breath and nodded. “You know what? Yeah, maybe it would have been. But you forget-”

“Fight or flight,” Remus filled in. He shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

As usual, he was dressed in as many layers as he could be, with only a hint of pale skin showing on his face and through a pair of fingerless gloves he had cut himself. Everything else was an amalgamation of black and brown leather, denim, flannel, a puffy coat, a long flowing skirt in leopard-print, and fishnet tops over cotton T-shirts, leaving barely any Remus-outline at all. It didn’t matter what the weather was; his outfit might change components, but it never revealed so much as his neck.

Everyone had their reasons, Janus would quietly say at almost anything their customers said or did. It wouldn’t have crossed their minds to ask why he covered himself so much, but it was something Virgil couldn’t help but wonder about sometimes.

Maybe Janus was right and Remus was handsome, but his face was so obscured by his moustache, stubble, and makeup in purple and green- or whichever colours he felt like- that he seemed to be aiming for ‘gives you a headache after you look at him too long’ more than anything else.

His hair was almost literally a bird’s nest. He had completely rejected offers of a hairbrush or a comb, insisting he preferred it the way it was. The third co-owner of the cafe, Remy, with whom he was staying at the moment, had made many attempts to detangle his hair, all of which had been met with screaming and gnashing of teeth. After each clash, Remy would send Virgil a barrage of complaints by text. But while Janus had offered for Remus to stay at his own apartment, Virgil and Remy had made a mutual decision to save them from 24/7 pining by volunteering instead. Janus had refused even considering dating him the very first day he had barged his way into the cafe- and into its founder’s affection. As long as Remus came to them for food and shelter, it would be an unfair balance of power.

Remus reached into an inner pocket of his coat and slid a purple pin with a spider silhouette on it over to Virgil. “You could stab this into those big brown eyes of yours,” he said, widening his own at the barista.

“Sweet, thanks,” Virgil said, pinning it onto his apron string. It did match with his spider-web hair design. “Then I won’t have to look at Janus getting flustered any more.”

Remus grinned at Janus, who was trying to act as if he’d been so invested in carefully holding the pigeon that he hadn’t heard. He leaned on the counter and dropped his voice into a stage-whisper. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I think he’s sexy.”

“That’s disgusting,” Virgil whispered back. “I’m going to throw up in your coffee.”

He shrugged. “I’d still drink it. Then I’d just be able to judge you based on your stomach bile.”

“You’d be so fucking impressed by my stomach bile,” Virgil retorted. “It’s so acidic from anxiety it would kill you immediately.” He turned to start wiping down anywhere the pigeon had even possibly touched.

“Bartender!” Remus yelled in an exaggerated English accent, banging on the counter. “Bartender! I would like a coffee and a sandwich, please!”

“One moment, my dear,” Janus said in a more passable impression, opening up the freezer door and placing the tiny corpse into an empty ice-cream container well away from the rest of the food. “I’m just cryopreserving- what’s her name?”

"Her name is Loki,” Remus supplied, his voice dropping to a matter-of-fact tone which was surprisingly tender coming from him. “She's good at stealing chips from tourists. And flying and shitting at the same time.”

Janus threw away his gloves, thoroughly washed his hands, then made a small note: "Loki: not for consumption." He glanced up at Remus so he could see the note, who repaid him by throwing his head back so he could laugh. Janus' mouth quirked into a snicker too, and the rest of the coffee shop seemed to fall away from the two looking at each other.

"We're going to get a violation," Virgil interrupted, because that was the expression of a Janus who would complain and pretend not to pine for hours after Remus left. He turned on the coffee machine to hopefully distract from the moment. "It's a dead fucking animal."

"So is the rest of the meat," Janus dismissed without looking at him. "And it is wrapped up and away from the rest of the food."

Ever since Virgil had joined the team and the cafe had begun to establish itself as a firm success, the city council had done everything in its power to shut it down. Each time, the cafe had won, even if their most recent fight was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of his life, and their personal lives had been dragged through the dusty carpet of every courtroom in the city. Each step of the way, Janus insisted that the risk was worth it.

After all that, Virgil was not letting the cafe close on account of a dead bird, as skilled a thief as she might have been.

"It’s a pest animal you let in here," he insisted.

Janus dismissed him with a shrug. "Come now, so is Remus."

The customer grinned. "You flatter me, rattlesnake." His eyes traced Janus' face as they scrunched up with joy. "Can you tell me about Dodgy Knees again?"

He closed his eyes as if pained. "Diogenes! Diogenes! I'll break your knees if you mispronounce-"

"Kinky!"

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Oh, is that so?”

So Virgil tried to ignore the disaster scenario of the cafe being shut for good, fixed a cup of coffee and a sandwich for Remus, and somehow got caught into a conversation about the pros and cons of leaving society to go feral in the woods.

“No, I do agree, but wolves-”

The door rattled, and an older white man with salt-and-pepper hair and a pinstripe suit walked in. He wasn’t entirely out of place amongst the clientele, but he honestly looked more like the businessmen in some of the cartoons Janus had papered one wall with. Remus ignored the bell as he leant his elbows on the counter, gesturing with his sandwich as he talked to Virgil while the barista came up to the register.

“How can I help you today?” Virgil asked the man, who was glancing around the decor. That type of customer was almost certainly drawn by the coffee, all blends hand-picked by Remy.

“I’ll be in and out in just a moment,” he replied with a small smile, and Remus stopped talking. “An espresso to go, please.”

Virgil nodded. “Sure, a moment-”

A blush crept up Remus’ cheeks, and he ducked his head with uncharacteristic shyness. As the man caught his eyes his entire expression softened, the hard lines of his face seeming to melt as his lips parted slightly, like he would say something. But, for once, he was speechless.

Janus looked as though he had been slapped in the face. “Are you acquainted?” he asked, in such a casual tone that Virgil knew he was deeply hurt. He arched an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“I- yes, I believe we are,” the customer gave a genial smile in return, his eyes fixed on Remus’. “Some time ago.”

Janus’ eyes narrowed. “Where do you know him from, Remus?”

There was a crinkle of plastic and leather as Remus shrugged. “Long story,” he said distantly.

Virgil slid a cup of coffee over to the man, who tapped a black card to the card reader and gave him a quick smile. “Keep the change,” he quipped. It was a tip some ten times greater than their recommended 20%.

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled, but his focus was on his friend, who was drifting out of the door, as he tended to do at the end of a conversation. “Hey, Remus, we’ll see you later?” he called after him.

“Sure, Virgey!” he replied, giving him a quick grin before he held the door for the businessman, and the two of them walked out together. The older man ducked his head to whisper something into his ear, and Remus laughed and linked their arms as they headed into the street.

As soon as the door swung shut, a cloud settled over Janus’ expression. “Well,” he said, adjusting a sandwich which was just slightly out of line with the rest. “They say a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet. It takes all sorts. To each, indeed, their-”

Before he could utter another saying, Virgil interrupted with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like?” Janus asked caustically. “Remus was acting unusually, yes?”

“Sometimes people get nervous,” he ventured. “If they like someone-” There wasn’t a single trait Remus said wasn’t his type; a silver fox with money was as good as any.

“Don’t say ‘like’, it’s so middle school,” he snapped, and Virgil flinched at the tone in his voice. He grabbed a cloth and headed over to a table which some regulars he knew were just vacating to wipe it down. Poor Loki’s funeral was going to be a tense event.

Except, as night fell and the cafe began to glow with the golden lights and the warmth of the ovens, and as Remy arrived to help them with the evening rush, Remus didn’t show up for the body in their freezer.

The brief liveliness Janus had shown bustling between the kitchen and the front faded as the final family trickled out. He waved away most of their offered money, seeing as it was a birthday party and he knew them, and Remy and Virgil made meaningful eye contact but didn’t protest.

As they closed, Remy filled the awkward silence with chatter about the men he was dating, the new hair product he had tried, the fact Remus never washed up when he was told to, and he was, like, so sick of it-

But no Remus appeared to defend himself, even after they left half-an-hour late and each one tried to call him.

He didn’t appear at Remy’s to sleep overnight, and he didn’t come into the cafe at all the next day.

That next night, Janus disappeared into the back, leaving Virgil to clean up by himself.

His stomach was upset, and he couldn’t help but think about that man over and over.

Long story- what exactly did “long story” mean?

Remy used the phrase when it really was a complicated story full of exes and rumours and friends of friends-

Virgil used it when he was asked why he didn’t speak to his family any more.

But he’d never seen Remus look like that before, and the guy had seemed nice- and there was an obvious suggestion for why his friend was busy overnight.

He realised he’d been wiping down the same table for the past five minutes.

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly behind him.

“Yeah?” he turned, and his brow immediately furrowed at his friend’s sombre expression.

He had his phone in one hand, and his hat in his other. “I’m going to ask you for a favour,” he said slowly. “You are quite free to decline it.” He paused. “I want to go to the house of the man who Remus went out with, and check that he’s alright.”

“I...don’t know that’s a good idea,” he said, twisting the spider badge on his apron so he could avoid the weight of his friend’s expression. “I mean...it could be an invasion of Remus’ privacy, if that was an old friend or-” Scared of causing further upset, he tilted his head to fill in ‘something else’.

“Yes, I know.” He sighed, looking out into the night through their plate-glass windows. “You know I’m not one for hunches-”

“Eh, you turned out a guy for being an undercover cop in like two seconds because he asked about ‘The Antifa’-”

Janus gave him a look with almost the level of exasperated fondness Remus engendered, and Virgil fell silent.

“I’m not one for hunches, but I’m usually right when I have them, then,” he finished lightly. “I have a very bad feeling, and a Google Search for anyone in the town who could possibly have a black card doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Anxiety coagulated in his stomach, but he tried for his final hope. “Are you sure it’s not...jealousy?”

He gave him a long, tired look. “The thought has never even been a worry of mine,” he said drily. “Still, I can go by myself, and make my own self a bother, worse, a fool.”

And it wasn’t really a question at all whether Virgil would let that happen. “Two of us is just a bother,” he replied with a confidence he didn’t feel, unclipping his badge from his apron and slipping it into his hoodie pocket.

Janus hung up his hat and put on a neat suit jacket over his outfit. “Thank you, really-”

He shook his head, opening the door so that a rush of petrichor and tarmac washed out the pervasive smell of coffee and food from the cafe. “Let’s go.”

They walked out into the night, still damp from the earlier rains. The lights of the shops around them reflected against the wet tarmac, and music pumped out of passing cars giddy with the promise of the coming weekend. They headed to the bus stop, Janus politely greeting every person they passed, and Virgil ducking his head so he didn’t have to. He didn’t know if the people who replied were familiar to his friend from the neighbourhood, or just trying to be polite in turn.

As soon as the bus stopped with a hiss of steam, Janus led him down to the back, and sat by the window, checking the map on his phone again. “It will be some time,” he said. “But, I ask you to be patient.”

“Course.” Virgil rested his head on Janus’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “Just tell me the stop before and I’ll be...right with you.” Moving vehicles lulled him to sleep anyway, and he would just worry the whole way otherwise.

“Of course.” Janus wrapped an arm around him, so he wasn’t jolted as the bus started again.

As Virgil dozed in fits and starts, the window changed from views of convenience stores and fast food shops to blocks of apartments, to anonymous offices and retail outlets, to high-walled parks, and then houses set back from the road by sweeping drive-ways or pavements almost as wide as the road was. Finally, his head was jostled off Janus’ shoulders, and he blinked as the stop dinged, too loud after the fog of sleep. Outside, it was pitch black but for the pools of light beneath the streetlights, and the golden glow which the mansions kept far behind barred gates.

They stumbled off the bus, and Janus checked his phone just once more before they headed off down one of the identical sides of the road.

Virgil pulled his hoodie close around him against the night chill. He considered putting his hood on to protect his ears from the nipping wind, but they were already two black men alone in a very white neighbourhood. It wasn’t worth it when his stomach was already rolling with anxiety. He rubbed his thumb over the badge in his pocket and tried to breathe the cold air in 4-7-8. They walked over empty roads, past rows and rows of similar houses, until they turned a corner and cars lined the road, piling into a single driveway which was illuminated like a Christmas lights display. A few fancily-dressed guests stood by the cars, but most of the noise came from inside. The house towered even its neighbours, and was built in the faux-Classical style which he hated.

Janus checked the address against his phone, then nodded. “That’s it. What did you call those, again? False temples?”

“Temples to dumb rich Americans and bad architecture,” Virgil supplied with a quirk of his lips.

“Quite right,” he replied, assessing the entrance. “And in all likelihood, Remus is stuck inside with his…”

“Yup.” He looked between his own patchwork hoodie and Janus’ dapper suit. “Maybe you could sneak in, but I definitely wouldn’t fit in.”

He straightened, and adjusted his bowtie. “Then we’ll go around the back,” he replied.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope, nope, nope, that’s- Jesus Christ, no, that’s a great way to get arrested or even shot. No.”

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly. “These past two months, Remus has visited us every day except that brief time after the fight over the milk cartons, or whatever it was-”

“I asked him to clean up a drop of milk and he poured the rest of the carton over my kitchen,” he said sourly, which he felt he was entitled to despite the situation.

“Yes, yes,” Janus dismissed. “Anyway- he always comes, doesn’t he? So now-”

“I have a really, really bad feeling- and bad thought, and bad everything-” he protested, backing away from the gate.

An orange sports car swerved past them, and parked horizontally across the driveway, and a young white man in a tracksuit the same colour as his car leapt out and gave them a wide grin. “Hey! Hey! Hello!” he yelled, and flashed them peace signs, to which Janus replied with a pained smile and Virgil a small wave. “Everything’s started- have they done the fireworks yet? Or the, shit, thing with the melted chocolate and it flows-”

“Chocolate fountain,” Janus supplied with the smile he reserved for his more aggravating customers. He slipped his arm into Virgil’s and pulled them forwards. “We were hoping to arrive for that too, ah-?” He waited for the man to supply his name, but instead-

“I like your hair!” he said to Virgil, admiring the spider web design. “Rad!”

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied, subtly trying to pull them backwards as Janus marched him to the door after the guest. “Your car is...yeah, that sure is a car.”

“Sure is!” he replied with a blindingly white smile. He flashed something at a bodyguard at the door- who had sunglasses, earpiece, everything- Virgil noted with a sickening thrill of fear.

“And your friends, sir?” the bodyguard asked.

“Yeah, yeah!” The guest tossed his car keys at his chest and headed through to a foyer filled with well-cut suits and low-cut dresses, champagne glasses and trays of canapes. Marble floors reflected the lighting, which glinted out from chandeliers above. A wide staircase glided up to the hidden upper floors.

“Oh, hey! Hey, you!” the young man yelled as soon as he got in, bounding over towards a woman who greeted him with a grin, raising her glass like a toast.

Janus and Virgil just blinked at each other. “Are you...sure?” Virgil asked quietly. “Remus is here?”

“I’m honestly not so sure any more,” Janus muttered to him. “But let’s not rely on whatever chemicals are keeping our dear friend happy, and start looking around.”

They moved through a throng of people and out into a wide ballroom, filled with yet more guests and a live string quartet playing in one corner. Along with the music was the trilling of occasional birdsong from tropical birds fluttering inside several oversized golden cages dotted around the room. A few others held white marble statues, but they couldn’t compare to the shifting flurries of reds, blues, and greens. Without agreeing on it aloud, the friends first went over to a small party congregated by one of them, in case the birds had attracted Remus.

“No, but then I said-” A balding man was proclaiming. “I said, Rudy, that’s not the Dow Jones Industrial Average at all.”

The group burst into laughter, Virgil gave Janus a bemused look, and they moved on.

Everyone was well-dressed, in sparkling necklaces or ties in jewel colours or even in more casual clothes, like the man from the sports car, which still seemed to drip wealth. Wearing sneakers with a suit wasn’t that fancy a look, but when even Virgil recognised that pair from an ad campaign for a luxury fashion line which would come out next month, he guessed it didn’t matter. Nobody looked at them twice. Still, there was nobody dressed in the contents of an entire rummage-sale bin with purple eyeshadow used as contour.

“There-” Janus whispered- “Is that?”

They both froze as they watched a man with a moustache waltz past in the arms of a lady dressed in black. It wasn’t Remus.

Virgil scanned the room again, eyes passing over the gilded cages, and the tropical birds and statues inside them- nobody in the crowd admiring them was any business of his-

As they parted, the figure inside the tallest gold cage became clear. It shifted position- an animatronic? He looked more closely as it moved after everyone had turned away, fiddling with golden chains around its-

“Oh God-” he whispered. “Look.”

Virgil was an avowed atheist, but if the person inside the cage wasn’t a statue, he must have been an angel. His shining hair was cut short to show of the clean marble lines of his face. His chest was sculpted too, covered in scars which looked like they must have come from a golden sword like the one he was gripping. He looked as if he would swing it into position if not for the gold chains wrapped around his arms, tethering him to the delicate bars of the cage. He was gazing out into the distance.

Most striking of all, dove-grey wings crested over his shoulders and trailed all the way down to his ankles. His white tunic contrasted the hints of pale purple, pink and blue shimmering in his wings.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Virgil had ever seen.

He glanced at Janus for his reaction.

He found only an expression of absolute horror. Janus was completely silent for a moment, struggling for words, before he gasped. "Oh, Remus- what did they do to you?”

A cold feeling washed over him.

No- those were their friend's grey eyes, and that was the shape of his face, stripped of his facial hair and usual tacky makeup. No wonder Virgil hadn't recognised him.

Compared to the usual chaotic spark in his expression, he looked blank. As if his mind was somewhere else entirely- or like he'd been drugged.

Still, Virgil couldn’t help but be drawn back to his wings; they were hyper-realistic, even twitching as he tried to tense his shoulders to alleviate the pressure of the chains on his arms. And the amount of feathers it would have taken to make that shifting, downy gradient...not even all of Remus’ flock had that many. It was compelling, but sickening.

It felt wrong to look over his arms and legs when he was usually so adamant about covering them, so he dropped his eyes and tried to erase the knowledge of how muscled Remus was beneath his usual shapeless outfit.

It wasn’t that Virgil found his friend attractive exactly, but with wings like that, dressed like that- he was a centerpiece, clearly, and even as his stomach churned with the wrongness of the display, it was a palpable effort to keep his gaze from snapping back to him. “I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered to Janus.

“He’d never, ever choose to dress himself like that in front of everyone," Janus whispered, anger crackling red at the edges of his quiet voice. "And even if he did, he’d never shave off his moustache.”

He shook his head. “So...what do we do?”

In response, Janus sauntered over to the left, took a champagne flute from a waiter, and then gestured for his friend to follow. They zigzagged through the crowd until they got closer to Remus, whose eyes remained glazed and distant.

They stopped just by him. Up close, it was clear the tunic was some kind of cotton material, and the sword had blunted edges. He was wearing makeup too, and a lump in his mascara made Virgil feel another sharp pang of pity. As ridiculous as painting them on would have been, how real the scars looked in comparison to the rest of the outfit was jarring. He was built and scarred like a fighter, and all the little touches to make him look delicate only emphasised how roughened he was. Both were at odds with everything he knew of his friend.

“Remus,” Janus whispered. The name fell like a plea. “Remus, it’s us.”

All of a sudden, the man’s eyes snapped to them, his expression melting into disbelief. “Remus?” he echoed. It was as quiet as a whisper from a crypt. “You know him?”

“You’re-” Janus’ face fell. “Remus, that’s you-”

The man almost imperceptibly shook his head. “Twins, we’re twins- you know him? Please, is he okay?” He looked almost identical, though up close the differences began to stand out. He was probably more muscular, but who could tell under all of Remus’ clothes? The main differences were a gap between this twin’s front teeth and, more than that, his eyes. Even as he looked at them desperately, there was something missing from them, some jolt of hope or excitement which just wasn’t there. Their heaviness was an uncomfortable weight on Virgil’s face.

He wrapped an arm around himself. “Sorry, he went missing-”

“But we tracked the man he left with back here,” Janus filled in. “Isn’t he here too?”

The man shook his head again. “No, I- I’ll earn more information, after this. I don’t know anything,” he whispered. “I just know he found him, and he wants him to come back without a fight.”

Virgil never should have just watched as that man walked Remus out of the coffee shop. Long story his ass- “What the fuck is happening?”

Remus’ twin tried to shrug and then winced as the movement tugged on the chains. His wings fluttered with the movement. “They just tranqued us the first time. I don’t know why he’s delaying recapture-” He took a deep breath. “Just tell him to run away as soon as he can.” His grey eyes hardened to steel. “He might as well keep doing it.”

“I will if I can find him, thank you.” Janus took a small sip of his champagne. “What exactly was the capture for, if I can ask?”

The captive glanced around the room, and at the movement Virgil cut his eyes to the side. Nobody watched that he could see. “The wings, of course,” he said with a bitter smile. “Yes, yes, they’re real, go ahead and look at them.”

Janus’ eyes widened, subtly taking in the wings.

“My name’s Roman,” he continued in a low, urgent voice. “Tell him that Roman said to run, okay? Don’t listen to any of their offers or threats. I’m not a gladiator anymore; I’m here instead. It’s...not too bad.”

As Janus opened his mouth, Roman shook his head. “Don’t talk to me too long.”

“We can get you out,” Virgil said before he knew what he was thinking. “Whatever this is-”

“Go,” Roman insisted. “It’s not worth trying to do anything for me. And don’t call the police-”

Janus rolled his eyes. “You really don’t need to worry about that.”

“Fine.” he lifted his eyes to the middle distance again. “You should go now. Please.”

Virgil gave a little nod, taking Janus’ arm. “Okay. We’re gonna go.”

“Thank you,” Janus added. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then let Virgil lead him away.

He steered them back through the ballroom with their backs to Roman, trying not to glare into the eyes of each of the guests they passed. It would almost have been easier if there was a big fuss and show about the captive man, rather than the chatting and dancing and gossiping with, oh, a living being as a conversational curiosity-

As they came back into the entrance, Janus began to turn towards the sweeping staircase.

“No,” Virgil said under his breath, trying to tug him back to the doorway. “No fucking way. I know you’re angry but-”

“I’m not angry,” he replied coolly. “I am, rather, curious. Because I don't think they tell everything to Roman, and we’re not going to get luck like this again. Any information will help.”

He glanced up at where the staircase twisted out of sight. If Remus was up there, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. And, despite his words, Janus was throw-ignorant-customers-out-of-the-cafe mad. Except, he wasn’t quoting memoirs of increasingly obscure activists or putting neat yellow gloves on in warning, so Virgil didn’t know what he would do.

On cue, Janus reached into his breast pocket and drew out the gloves. He slipped one on, tugging it into place. “Better for fingerprints, and more neat.” He glanced at Virgil. “You don’t have to come with me, in fact it may be better if you didn’t.”

It wasn’t fair for Janus to pull on his ridiculous gloves like a boxer about to face a much bigger opponent, and ask him not to fight by his side. Even if Virgil had decided to leave the party, it wouldn’t have been fair.

“I will,” he said, tucking his hands into hoodie paws. His heart was thumping against his ribcage as if it would break out- that was a thought to tell Remus when they saw him. “I’m gonna complain about it afterwards.”

Despite his apparent composure, it took Janus a moment too long to answer as his eyes traced Virgil’s face. “Of course.” He took his arm. “Shall we?”

He was half-expecting an alarm to blare as soon as they set foot on the first stair- but nobody noticed. They took another few steps, feet sinking into the thick red runner. The back of his neck prickled with stares, but he knew from long experience that those were imagined. Or were they? No, that was anxiety. Janus’ hand tightened on his forearm and he stopped. Above, someone paced past on a wooden floor in the measured rhythm of a guard. He gagged.

“Deep breaths,” Janus murmured.

“I hate this,” he replied. Then he forced a breath in his nose and out of his mouth.

After the footsteps faded, they kept walking until Virgil moved his heavy boot onto the polished wood floor as gently as possible. Identical two-panel white doors stretched along the hallway without any noticeable distinction, until the corridor took a right turn at the end of the row.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right,” Virgil whispered, and Janus nodded.

With their footsteps echoing almost too loud on the floor, they each crept to the far ends of the hallway. There was nothing beyond the corner except another staircase, and thankfully no more doors.

He tried the door handle on the far right with his sleeve over his hand, and it turned. He nudged it open and peeked in to see a huge bedroom strewn with suitcases and clothes, and a sparkling necklace of diamonds carelessly draped over a black dress. But no Remus. He shut it and moved onto the next.

Locked. The next was too. His hands were shaking like there was a motor in them.

He closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall, trying to ground himself in the sensation. Okay. Next one- unlocked.

It was a bathroom, all white marble and gold like downstairs. He closed the door and glanced over to Janus, who shook his head.

He glanced at the staircase before crossing the corridor and turning the handle of the middle door slightly.

A voice rose behind the door, deeper and smoother than Remus’. “Hello?”

Virgil reached in desperation for the next door handle as footsteps sounded from inside, and tugged it open in time for Janus to walk in quickly and efficiently in the rhythm of the security guard. He followed with a few strides, shutting the door behind him in with a fumbled click. The room was an empty guest bedroom. Janus was hiding himself under the bed before Virgil caught his arm and pulled him out. He headed to the big sliding window.

“Please, please-” he whispered to himself, trying to lift it. Locked, locked, oh God-

Janus searched the mantelpiece for a moment before pressing a cold key into Virgil’s hand. He tried to put it in but his hands were shaking too badly and he couldn’t-

Janus took it off him. It fit with a click.

Virgil pushed up the window in a rush of cool air. He climbed out onto the little ornamental balcony running between a few windows and stood flat to the wall, chest heaving, before Janus followed with a tumble. He reached over and shut the window while Janus crouched down below the sill. The room was still empty.

Virgil slid down the wall, trembling hands over his mouth. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he was sure he would be sick-

Janus had curled into a ball, forehead to the stone of the balcony.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that.

After a while, they ended up both sitting side by side in the space between the two windows, hands twisted together. It was silent.

Virgil glanced back into the room. “It’s empty,” he whispered. “We should leave.”

Janus nodded. “One moment-” He crept towards the other window and peeked in the bottom before he dropped to the ground, hand over his mouth.

Virgil widened his eyes. On cue, his heart finished its brief rest.

Janus pointed to his suit jacket, then made a rectangle shape with his fingers. Virgil frowned. His friend repeated the gesture, and it clicked. Black card.

He so, so badly wanted to run now, but instead he crawled over to poke Janus in the side so he would move over to give him space by the window. Their eyes met, and Virgil pulled his hood over his cold ears to settle in for a wait. He kept his head down, pillowed on his forearms, while Janus risked peeking up every few minutes.

Suddenly, Janus grabbed his arm. Virgil lifted his head. He could just about see Roman standing in the doorway, rubbing at the deep red marks around his forearms, and the captor leaning back in a leather armchair holding a glass.

Janus put his hands up to the window-

“Janus,” Virgil hissed, but then the window slid a crack upwards and voices travelled through.

“Quite the party, wasn’t it?” the captor said, pouring himself a drink.

Roman nodded too quickly. “Yeah,” he said in a hoarse voice, attempting a smile which didn’t reach his eyes, which were fixed on a closed silver laptop on a side table. “Yes, it was...very grand!”

He rolled his eyes. “What did you think of the decor?”

“Quite magnificent! Like a- an aviary in a palace.” His wings were trembling as though there were a breeze running through them.

Tilting his head and looking Roman up and down, the captor spoke just as genially as he had in the cafe. “You really aren’t as interesting as your brother was. Too many blows to the head, no doubt.”

Roman’s mouth tightened. His fists had too.

Against the deep, comfortable, red-brown tones of leather and what must have been genuine mahogany, and the backs of books all bound neatly and sticking out of the shelf as though frequently read, Roman’s outfit stood out as even more fake. Gold accents in the sandals he was wearing matched the subtle gold trimmings of the room, but if the study were a convincing stage, Roman looked like a badly cast understudy.

The captor laughed. “Predictable. This isn’t the fighting pits.”

Virgil and Janus shared a look before watching again.

“Your brother’s been living like a tramp and he’s still more beautiful than you are, under all the mess,” he commented, as casually as if he was observing the weather. Roman’s eyebrows drew together, watching for the end of the statement. He brought up a hand to cover a scar along the edge of his neck. “He’s not as scraped up as you, of course. And he really-” He swirled his whiskey for a moment before taking a sip of it. “He really is genuine. You can imagine worse things than this, can’t you?”

He paused, then nodded.

He shrugged. “He can’t. That’s the difference.”

Janus grabbed Virgil’s hand. He curled over and pressed it to his own forehead. Virgil rested his hand on his back and bent to whisper in his ear. “Hey, only I need to listen, so-”

He shook his head and Virgil cut off, peeking back over the windowsill.

For just a moment Roman glanced at the window before he asked, “So, where is Remus anyways?” He seemed to freeze as he waited for the answer, a statue once again.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He held his hand out and Roman looked at him blankly. “The laptop,” he snapped.

“Oh!” He grabbed it from the side table and tried to hand it over from a distance.

He took it and flipped it open. Roman stepped back immediately, hopping from one foot to the other like a boxer. Virgil felt himself tapping on Janus’ back in sympathy.

The captor flipped the screen open and typed for a moment before he began to read something. Virgil felt Janus’ chest go still.

The captor laughed. “Oh, would you look at that- “Queer Eye’s Karamo Brown urged to cut ties with Salvation Army”.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing worse than a hypocrite- did you know about this?”

Remus’ brother’s jaw tensed and he shook his head.

He carried on reading for a little while, tutting, and then switching to another tab. “Okay, fine- come and look.”

He crossed the room to stand behind the man, hands gripping onto the back of the sofa as if he would fall over without its support.

“Don’t touch the furniture.” With a roll of his eyes, he reached his hand behind him, twisted his hand into his captive’s wing- then tugged. As he pulled a handful of feathers away Virgil winced, but Roman only reacted with a tightening of his hands. Then he took a measured step back from the couch.

“You know,” the captor said so softly that Virgil had to strain to hear him. “You know, Remus would have cried and cried at that.” He scattered the feathers, spotted with blood, over the floor. “That, or started swearing- and the crying would come after that.”

“You’ve told me before,” Roman snapped. As soon as he spoke, he froze again. “Oh, uh- I’m sorry-”

The laptop clicked shut. “I asked you to behave this evening,” the captor said, getting up and tucking it under his arm. Virgil and Janus crouched down further. For some reason, a tiny chip in the stone paving caught Virgil’s eyes. A tiny fissure ran from it into the rest of the solid slab. “That meant all of this evening.”

“Please-” His voice broke, and pitched high it sounded like Remus’. Janus’ hand tightened on Virgil’s until it hurt.

“Out.”

Virgil tugged on Janus’ hand and bent his head to his ear. “C’mon, we need to go.”

Janus looked up. His eyes were shining, and at the same time Virgil felt like a monster for not crying and a sharp annoyance that his friend had given into his emotions. He took a deep breath, and both feelings passed. He tugged on his hand again. “Okay, time to go,” he whispered.

He decided not to risk closing the window while the man was still in the room, just nudging Janus to the side. They crept across the balcony, slid up the far window, and climbed through one after the other, painfully slow.

They padded through the empty room, then opened the door and slipped out together. Downstairs, the last of the party guests were trailing out, either upright with exhaustion shining in their eyes to match the sparkle of their jewels, or with the help of a few discreet employees supporting champagne-soggy legs. Wordlessly, Janus slung his arm over Virgil’s shoulder, and he let his friend lean on him as they passed security and walked down the long drive to the dark street. He was heavy, but Virgil was careful not to stumble.

They carried on walking that way until the corner, when Janus straightened up and adjusted his jacket. Still, they crossed the road side-by-side and didn’t speak.

As they walked, the bottom of the sky was being washed out into greyness. The houses were unlit now, and they looked smaller in the dark. It just barely smelt of metallic dew. Virgil thought he might start screaming if he opened his mouth.

They reached the bus station sooner than expected. There was half-an-hour before the first early-morning bus. With a huff of air, he sat down on the pavement and leaned his back against the pole.

“Well that was just what we expected, wasn’t it?” Janus said lightly. He stayed standing, facing the mansion they had come from. Virgil looked up at him in silence. “I’m going to murder that man,” he continued in the same tone. “The security for that house is shocking. I’m sure it isn’t that hard. Perhaps I should let the twins do it, though.”

He nodded. “I’ll help bury the body.”

“You know, Virgil,” Janus met his eyes. “You really are the best friend anyone could ask for.”

"What?" he mumbled as he looked down. "He was a dick."

"Come now, you also broke into the house of someone connected to illegal fighting rings whose interior decoration tended to the alive and miserable.”

Heat flooded into his face. “Least I can do.”

“Quite a bit more than the least.” His lips quirked into a smile. “Especially for someone who was terrified of talking to customers a year ago.”

"Oh, shut up." He poked Janus' neat brogue with his boot. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes here figured out the whole thing anyway." His chest felt funny, and he hugged his arms around it.

"Well, Watson," He took a deep breath and decided to stop tormenting Virgil with his tenderness. "I have our final deduction- the man had no clue where Remus is."

"Really?"

Janus shook his head. “He was just looking for an excuse for Roman to slip up the whole time. Taunting him, the furniture, physically hurting him- it was all trying to push him to some tiny ‘infraction’ so he could bluff about the information.”

“Huh.” He replayed the events and nodded slowly. “Sure, I can see that. Still, we don’t know if he’s always like that. He didn’t deny the information when Roman touched the furniture- which is a fucked up rule, Jan- I don’t know if him not saying where Remus is was an excuse at all. He said Remus was better than his brother, and he gets pissed when you suggest cutting those clumps out of his hair. He must have been-” He regretted saying it to Janus, but it was deduction time. “He must have been really- cruel to him for Remus to act anything like Roman. He enjoys being cruel, clearly.”

“You’re right.” He twisted the finger of his glove. “Still, surely telling Roman about how scared Remus was would upset him. And he didn’t, so something doesn’t add up.”

Well, his intuition hadn’t lied before. “So what do we do?”

“We find Remus first.” He straightened his shoulders. “Remy would have texted if he went back to the apartment, we can assume he’s not at the cafe since he was found there, and he could have gone to his usual parks and streets but if he’s being watched he wouldn’t. So, where would he go?”

“It wouldn’t be anywhere with a lot of people,” Virgil added. “Or maybe even with a lot of birds, since they all come to him. Somewhere abandoned?”

Janus nodded. “I think we could check out some of the old warehouse districts.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a start. That one’s only ten minutes after the home one.”

They waited quietly, each caught up in their own thoughts. The bus to their district began trundling past until it slowed down for them and the door opened.

Janus shook his head at the driver. “Sorry, we’re not coming.”

She began to close the doors again without comment.

“Wait!” Virgil waved at her. “Wait a moment! Wait-”

She stopped with a huff almost as loud as the bus’ exhaust. Janus let Virgil pull him through the door by his hand, tapping his card dutifully.

He raised an eyebrow as they stumbled into some seats.

“Where’s the place we were talking about running to just before, uh, bird-friend left?” Virgil whispered, even though he doubted the tired commuters would be listening in for names and details. “And where can you bury the kind of bird friend in our freezer? And where wouldn’t be a place you’d search?”

“The forest?” he replied. There was only a scrubby patch of it outside the city.

“Yup. Look, we should go back to the cafe to get Loki, anyone asks and we’re just, you know, getting rid of the health violation in the fridge in a way which isn’t a health risk to a park or anything.”

Janus stifled a yawn. “That’s very smart.”

“Thanks, it was kinda impulsive, but-” Virgil shrugged as he looked out the window at the unrelenting row of houses. “I’m happy to be out of there.” He tucked his arm around his friend. “And you can nap until we get there.”

“I’m just fine, Virgil,” Janus replied, affronted. “Besides, I don’t want to rumple my outfit.”

Virgil gave an exaggerated yawn himself, and Janus immediately followed. He glared at him, which only made Virgil give him a small grin. “Bedtime.”

He was met with a head thunking onto his shoulder. “You had better wake me up in time,” he threatened.

“I will.” He readjusted so he was more comfortable. “We’ll be fine.”

*

By time they reached the cafe the sky was white and grey. Virgil waited by the bus stop, leaning his head against it as a half-asleep Janus unlocked the front. After enough time for Virgil to consider if he could sleep upright (five minutes), he reappeared with a canvas bag with a rainbow flag hand-printed on it, and a stack of three sandwiches, which he handed to Virgil.

The bus came soon after, and they collapsed into one of the back seats.

They had barely finished the sandwiches by the time they reached their next stop. They got out onto a cracked bit of sidewalk and looked at the trees rising above them. Silent, they walked forward until the concrete suddenly ended.

Virgil breathed in the stench of wild garlic and dug his toe into the slimy layer of dead leaves. Damp air curled in his mouth as though it would die peacefully there. Something chittered in the distance, and then cut off suddenly. He tried to tilt his head up to look at the trees and suddenly the vertigo of only sleeping for a few hours on the bus journeys hit him.

It was a world away from the gilded cage and the dizzying party.

He took a deep breath. “This feels right.”

Janus nodded. He tucked the bag under his arm carefully. “I hope…” he trailed off softly. “Well, Virgil, let us venture onwards.”

He touched his friend’s elbow for just a moment before he walked into the dark trees. After a moment, Janus followed, and they walked on together.

There was occasional litter, plastic bags and water bottles, but as they got deeper into the thick trees and tangled brambles along the forest floor it disappeared. Janus winced as he tried to lift his perfectly shone shoes over a muddy patch Virgil’s leather boots trudged through with ease. The trees were stout and gnarled, fungus protruding out of them like infections.

They wandered without any real direction, just trying to make their way further into the labyrinth of trees.

Virgil suddenly caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and he grabbed his friend’s arm.

It could have been a pile of abandoned clothes and torn out feathers-

But there was a glimpse of leopard print, and the vague outline of wings, and a low crooning coming from the figure curled there.

Janus crouched down six feet away from him, laying Loki’s bag by his side. “Remus,” he said so softly that Virgil barely heard it. “Remus, it’s Janus.”

Remus froze. Then his wings curved up around him. They were a lot taller than Janus was crouching. A pair of grey eyes came up to meet Janus’. His lips parted as he looked over the two of them. His purple and green makeup was smeared together until it looked like a black eye, and even his moustache seemed to have its own case of bed-head.

“We-” Virgil cleared his throat against a sudden lump. “Well, Janus, mostly, he found the guy’s house? And we went there, and, uh, we were worried about you so we looked.”

His eyes widened.

“We found your brother,” Janus said in a quiet voice. “Roman. He told us to tell you that he wasn’t a gladiator any more; he was there instead. That it, uh, wasn’t too bad.”

For a moment, Remus stopped breathing. Then he brought his hands up to his head, slumping his shoulders and letting his wings wrap around himself. “Bullshit,” he said hoarsely. “What else did he say?”

Janus bit his lip. “He told you to run away as soon as you could, and not to listen to anything they offered or threatened.”

Remus made a strangled yelping laugh which set Virgil’s teeth on edge. His wings were trembling so much that there was a slight breeze on his face. “Roman’s saviour goddamn hero bullshit-” He twined his fingers into his hair and started tugging. “He’s not- fuck,” he winced as he caught a matted section. “Not pathetic enough for that job.”

Janus tried to reach a hand out to untangle his hands from his hair, but Remus only stilled and leaned his head into his glove. Janus gently tugged at his wrist, but Remus wrapped his fingers around his hand and held it to his hair.

“Dude, you’re not pathetic. You broke out of that place all by yourself?” Virgil found his voice off-putting in the silence, but he kept speaking. “That’s hard. And you hid in the same town, in plain sight, for ages. And-”

“I ran away,” Remus said into his knees. “And I knew he’d get punished or die. He had to fight people. All goring out eyeballs and pulling out guts by the handful. Or the clawful. Depended on what kind of people were captured.”

“There are more people like you?”

He shrugged and, just like his brother, the movement made his wings move. “With the weird animal thing? Oh, sure. I would rather have a tentacle dick but you get what you get.” He spoke without humour.

Janus pressed a tiny kiss to the back of his hand, not seeming to care about the smear of dirt on it. “Darling, I’m sure you’re well enough endow-”

“No!” Virgil yelled, holding his hands up. “I have risked myself too many times today for you two to have to listen to that from you.”

Remus shrunk back further into a ball. “Sorry.”

For a moment Virgil was struck genuinely speechless. Then his brow furrowed. “Hey, no, I was just teasing.”

Janus turned to glare at him. He widened his eyes in response. Maybe he should have guessed Remus would be more delicate, but, well, it was Remus.

“Anyway, it’s okay, alright?” he attempted.

“Yeah, sure.” He lifted his head and smudged his makeup even more with the heel of his hand. “Fine.”

Virgil pulled the third sandwich out of his pocket and handed it over. “Figured you’d want that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Remus took it and began to carefully undo the wrapping. He took a small bite of the corner. “Mom and Dad are normal but Roman and I just were just born this way- oh there ain’t no other way,” he sang as he shimmied his wings. “But we lived in the middle of nowhere, and we stayed at home our whole lives, even though we talked a lot about hiding ourselves so that we could move. We kept ourselves to ourselves and we had a farm.” He threw his crust to the forest floor, seemingly by habit of having his flock around him. “Hope they didn’t search there for me; that would suck. Our parents saw us get captured, so at least they know what happened.”

Janus nodded as he listened. “How long ago was that?”

“Two years.” He stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.

“Goodness,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine.”

The corners of Remus’ moustache twitched up into a smile. “Nah, you couldn’t. Thanks,” he said through the remains of his sandwich.

Virgil waited for him to finish eating.

“We brought Loki with us, in the bag,” he said. “We figured it would be a good cover, and we can hold the funeral here.” He reached into the bag to pull out a trowel. They definitely hadn’t had one in the cafe, so Janus must have stored it there after Remus disappeared.

Janus reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a bag of classic Lays. He handed them over to Remus. “I do hope the flavour’s alright. I think it’s a classic.”

“Perfect,” he muttered. He stumbled up to his feet with a wince, holding his wings out for balance. Even without them fully spread out, the wingspan blocked the entire section of tree behind him. He rolled his shoulders back and flapped his wings.

Both of them stared.

Remus grinned and widened his eyes. “I can fly, you know. I could shit on you midair like-” All at once, his face crumpled and he held a hand up to his mouth. “Sorry, it all hit me again,” he said with a voice like sandpaper.

Virgil put his hoodie sleeve over his mouth as he swallowed back a guilty laugh. He started digging into the soft forest soil to distract himself.

He heard a flutter of feathers- had he been missing that under the whisper of all Remus’ shifting clothes before? - and then sobbing into a suit jacket. It was kind of scratchy on your face, Virgil knew, but it hid tears pretty well. He moved his whole shoulder into his digging, watching a depression form as the other two murmured words of upset and comfort to each other.

“I thought it was you,” whispered Janus against the shell of Remus’ ear. “And- my heart just stopped.”

“I wish it was.” Remus leant his forehead against Janus’ chest.

“But then how would I hold you, hm?” he replied, and there was the brush of fabric on fabric. “We’ll get him out.”

“You promise?” Remus said, and Virgil’s hand clenched around the handle. It wasn’t a good idea to-

“Promise. Split my chest open with a pickaxe and hope to pickle my heart.”

There was a wet laugh. “Kinky.”

“Come now, that was romance as well as kink.” His best friend’s voice was unbearably soft.

A warm feeling settled in Virgil’s chest despite the chill of the weather. Dammit. He stabbed the trowel into the ground again, ignoring the wetness in his own eyes.

He kept digging, until a set of feathers nudged into his face. “Did you poke me from all the way over there?” Virgil asked incredulously. Remus’ wing was as wide as he was tall, and he used it to poke him in the cheek again. It was a little disconcerting to see how much it moved like, well, a limb of his.

A feather brushed over the tears on his cheek. The wing retracted, and Remus came over to kneel by him and take the trowel. He sunk it into the ground, gouging out a huge section of earth with a small battle-cry. He flung it over his shoulder rather than adding to Virgil’s careful pile and then grinned at him.

A smile tugged at his mouth as he reached for the bag. “I think you finished the grave.”

He carefully wrapped the pigeon in the canvas bag Janus had chosen for her and handed it to Remus.

He looked at the little bundle in his hands for a long moment. Then he took her out of the bag. He began to unwind the plastic wrap.

Janus winced.

“That’s not clean-” Virgil whispered.

“It’s going to pollute the forest otherwise,” he replied without looking away from the corpse in his hands. “This is more natural. Besides, they’re pretty clean birds.”

So they watched in silence as he carefully took it all off and placed her in the grave. She was still intact, though her body had stiffened. “Thanks for being here, even if you were technically using her to stalk me,” he said. “Um, this was Loki. She was mischievous, and bold, and really smart. I’m going to miss her.” He cleared his throat and nodded, eyes wet. “Okay. Ready.”

Virgil scooped a handful of dirt with his trowel and scattered it over her. It pattered softly against the earth. Remus was staring hard into the distance. A few rays of sun poked through the trees as he pushed the rest of the dirt back into place. “Should we leave some rocks or something?”

Janus nodded. “I can collect-”

“I thought Roman was dead until a few days ago,” Remus interrupted. It sounded like a statement from a scratchy vinyl recording. “Ghosties are easier to carry around than big living brothers who got jacked from murder. Whatever you need me to do to get him out, I’ll do it. Killing, going back- whatever.”

“I don’t need you to do those things,” Janus said firmly. “All I need you to do now is come to my apartment,” he turned to his friend. “I’m not putting you in any further danger, Virgil-”

“Bullshit.”

He paused, brow furrowing. “Beg pardon?”

“That’s bullshit,” he repeated. “This is the part where you’re you’re going to think you’re being really smart about everything,” he held his hands up, “but you stick to your principles too much and you risk yourself and maybe those two-”

“Thank you for your confidence, Virgil,” he said acidicly.

“Anyway.” This was a spectacularly bad idea. “I’m helping.”

Defensive, his voice grew more formal. “If this is about the court cases, or the job, I promise you that you owe me nothing-”

“I like you, and I like Remus, and I don’t like what’s happening.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big thing; it’s just as simple as that. Okay?”

After a moment, Janus gave a nod.

“Aw, you like me?” Remus cooed. He wiggled his shoulders and grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Course.”

Janus gave Remus a helplessly fond smile. “Then it’s decided. I think we could all use some sleep, then we start this evening.”

[insomniac-jay]

Redoing My Remastered THH Girls Redesigns

I needed to fix them bc they were so ugly. I might do a redesign series of if I to keep the high school aesthetic. 

Reblogs > Likes

I wanted to give her both detective and spy vibes bc I think she’s great with both.

She has shorter hair but I kept the braid. Her canon jacket now becomes a trenchcoat with large gold buttons and purple belt, sleeveless black catsuit, white long sleeve undershirt, and her purple boots bc I like them. Her coat has a high collar and the symbol of the Kirigiri Detective Agency on her lapel. The catsuit has a zipper on it so she can easily take it off whenever she wishes. She keeps her gloves but they’re longer. She also wears cat-eye glasses and a chain on her belt.

Sayaka Maizono

I WILL get her right this time. I decided to do mostly idol but with some hints of y2k in there bc I’m still not over y2k Sayaka. I also took some inspo from Toastie’s redesign of Sayaka and the comeback outfits of the idol group Oh My Girls.

She wears a light blue headband with a big pink bow on it, white blouse with frills on the sleeves and collar, dark blue tie, light blue button up tube top, asymmetrical plaid pink pleated skirt with three small belts that connect to a plain white skirt, dark blue kitty socks, and holographic heels. She also wears music note earrings.

Celestia Ludenberg

I wanted to go for a bit of a Queen of Hearts aesthetic for this one. I was also inspired by an artist on Instagram who gave Celeste a skirt resembling a Roulette table (if anyone can tell me the artist’s name that would be nice).

I have two main fashion hcs for Celeste: Gothic lolita and Y2k so I’m gonna try and combine those. She wears a black mesh shirt, black lolita style off shoulder dress with short puffed sleeves and red lining, the skirt is in the shape of a Roulette table, light red petticoat with different card suits underneath, black stockings, and her heels from canon. I decided to give her jewelry that reflects her desire to be royal and her talent of gambling.

Aoi Asahina

I want them to look like a swimmer.

I gave them curly hair, freckles, bean eyebrows, and brown eyes bc I say so. She wears a pair of teal goggles, light pink swimsuit with a donut on it, ocean blue shorts with mermaid scales, and a pair of baby blue Crocs with charms on it. She also wears a cute mermaid hairclip.

Chihiro Fujisaki

I put her hair in pigtails and made her chubbier bc I want that for her. She also has freckles and bean eyebrows and braces.

Chihiro wears a light green tweed hoodie with programming and coding pins and the collar from her canon outfit, white dress shirt, brown sweater vest, and a pair of cute pajama pants. She also wears light green Crocs with charms.

Toko Fukawa

I wanted to give them a mix of nerdy and dark academia at the same time as well as took inspo from her beta design. I got rid of the braids bc they’re ugly and replaced them with a bun.

She wears a dark purple blazer with white lining, white dress shirt, coral turtleneck, dark purple skirt with a slit bc it’s Toko, knee high socks with garterbelts, and black dress shoes.

Sakura Oogami

Queen I’m so sorry I haven’t done you justice in the past. This time I will.

She wears a red sports bra with a trans pride flag and floral designs on it, pink sweatpants, a cute bunny hoodie, and some boxing shoes. I decided to tie her hair up bc it’s gonna get in the way of your fighting, queen.

Mukuro Ikusaba

He wears a green tank top, black long sleeve shirt, camo vest, baggy black pants, and combat boots. He also wears a dog tag necklace and a black jacket as well as carries a sniper in a case on his back.

Junko Enoshima

She wears a big red fur coat, monochrome spaghetti strap crop top with monochrome lacing, red pencil skirt, fishnet stockings, and red pumps. A pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses rest atop its head and she walks around with a little Monokuma cane for extra flair. 

[a-libra-writes]

Salt & Snow - Chapter 1

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: The only daughter of House Caspian, close allies of House Stark, visits Winterfell with her family and meets the four interesting children that live in the great castle. Childish shenanigans and silliness ensues. 

Hi everyone!! Im gonna give a short fanfic series a try! ;w; I haven’t done this in years lol, and I’m a little proud of this. I think it’ll be around 6~10 chapters? I don’t want it to be long! (yes I am working on other requests i promise hahaha this just got away from me~)

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The cold air hit her cheeks, and the only reaction she could give was delight. Normally she was scolding her little brother for throwing open the window to their carriage, but now she could only climb over him as she gazed out. The brilliant castle was in sight, and there was a sea of colorful banners all around it. She couldn’t imagine so many people in one place, all trying to fit into Winterfell. Even if it was a grand castle, how could it fit so many men and horses?

Her uncle leaned over her and her brother, chuckling at their starry-eyed expressions. “No leaning out the window. You’ll be there soon enough.”

Y/N recalled a time when her uncle let her lean over the bow of a ship to gaze at dolphins, but this didn’t seem a good time to remind him. It was hard to care about dolphins when she was so far from the sea, anyway. “Uncle, will there be room for us?”

“Of course, sweetling. Your father is a good friend of Lord Stark, remember? Do you remember the last time you were here?”

She shook her head, and so did her little brother, which was silly. He probably wasn’t even born then. Her father often mentioned Lord Stark and the great castle that was Winterfell. Supposedly he’d taken her twice, but they were such faint memories. Today was like seeing it for the first time.

“You were even smaller then, so I’m not surprised. I hope you two will behave yourselves while you’re here. Don’t make me write to your Lady Mother.”

At the mention of her, Y/N and her brother nodded again, except with more seriousness… Well, Y/N took it seriously, but Willam was already clambering back to the window. She felt her excitement begin to dwindle as she thought about her mother lecturing her over whatever thing she failed at, probably a botched courtesy. Her Lady Mother never lectured Willam when he ran through the horse stalls or wrestled in mud with the other boys.

Y/N patted at the neat braid at her shoulder, suddenly worried it was out of place. Her uncle would never lecture her about it being messy, but now she was thinking about it. She smiled at the shiny thread woven through the braid, and the pretty pearl at the end of it. Her father gave it to her. She wished he was here too, but he was riding on his huge black stallion ahead of their carriage. Uncle said Lord Stark gave him the beautiful horse. Y/N was wary of horses, but she liked that one.

Finally the carriage slowed to a crawl and made its way to the gates of Winterfell. Y/N gaped with her brother; it was so huge compared to their modest keep at Ramsgate. Y/N loved her family’s home, but it was like comparing a village to White Harbor. Her brother was bouncing like a proper five year old, tugging on her cerulean sleeves and pointing. “Look, look! A doggy!”

Huge banners flew on top of the parapets and unfurled on the walls. They were a brilliant white, and the creature running across them was as grey as the castle walls. She shook her head. “That’s a direwolf.”

Sometimes Willam looked at her as though she were a genius, which was a nice feeling. She pulled her rowdy brother into her arms and was pleased when he didn’t fight her. The banners and armored men on horses captured all of his attention. She used the distraction to untangle his hair and smooth out his tunic.

She was surprised when her uncle patted her shoulder approvingly, but it was a welcome gesture. The carriage had stopped, and she saw the black, teal and navy banners of their House passing the open window. She tried to be the calm lady, but she was feeling as bouncy as Willam.

Uncle Cole exited the carriage and opened the door for them on the other side. Y/N kept an iron grip on Willam so he didn’t just roll out and fall on his face; her Uncle picked the boy up and set him on his feet, then promptly held his collar so he didn’t go running off. With his other free hand, he helped Y/N down. She lifted her skirts and exited with much more grace.

Y/N looked over her dress, hoping it wasn’t too rumpled from the journey. Her Uncle said she could wear something comfortable for the trip and change into something nicer that evening, but Y/N was too excited to have a proper, real lady’s gown. She wore the beautiful blue and green of the sea, with beautiful little embroidered manta rays. They were her favorite part, and when she walked, her long sleeves swayed and made them look like they were swimming. With the threaded pearl in her hair, Y/N felt much older and more important than her eight years. She would be nine in a few months, and then ten, and by then she was nearly grown. Her lady mother said something to that effect, anyway.

She kept her skirts lifted as she walked through the yard and spotted her father. She would not run to him, because she was a lady, but she did allow herself a little happy skip. She thought he would pick her up like he always did, but his hands were dirty from riding, so she settled for his laughter.

“I’m sweating like a hog in summer, and my girl is fresh as a winter rose! That dress is lovely, Y/N. I know your mother would be proud.”

Y/N wondered about that. She was disappointed her mother was missing such a great harvest feast. “Maybe she should have come, father. What if she’s lonely?”

“Sweetling, the journey is too much for her right now, and she isn’t alone. She has your new brother, remember? He’s too young to leave, too, and she’d hate to leave him alone. Wouldn’t you?”

Y/N wasn’t sure how she felt about her baby brother. She hadn’t even had a chance to see him, but she remembered how her mother screamed when he came into the world, and it wasn’t a pleasant thought. The Maester said she was still bedridden, and she heard the washerwomen whispering about her condition. Willam was hard, they said, that’s why Lady Talia didn’t have a child for so long.

So why did she have another? She already has me and Willam. Y/N had asked the Maester, but he simply corrected her grammar and turned her attention to her studies.

It wouldn’t do to be unsure and gloomy today, not when they were in a grand new place and her father was beaming like she’d never seen before. “Can I write to her?”

“She would love that. Tell her all the details, don’t leave anything out.” When he laughed, his beard moved with him. Compared to other Northmen, her father’s was trim, and she liked that. He didn’t look old like the Maester or the horse master. “Little Y/N, do you remember the last time you were at Winterfell?”

“No.”

“Just so, you were barely to my knee, and Willam was still in your mother’s stomach. Do you remember their children?”

She knew the Starks had children, naturally, her parents and other adults mentioned them before. Y/N felt embarrassed she couldn’t recall any names, though. “No …”

“That’s fine, dear, it was a long time ago, and you weren’t here for very long. They have a girl your age, named Lyanna. You can play with her while you’re here. Their boys are too old for Willam, but I know you’ll get on well with them.”

It sounded like Y/N didn’t have much of a choice in playing with Lyanna or being nice to her brothers, but she didn’t mind meeting new children. Lord Manderly had no daughters to play with, only his two sons, and they were older and often annoyed her. One of her father’s men had a daughter, but she was younger and prone to crying at the drop of a pin. Y/N hoped Lyanna wasn’t like that.

She followed her father and uncle to the great hall of Winterfell, holding her brother’s hand firmly so he’d follow along. He was stopping and staring at everything, which she wanted to do too, but she was interested in seeing the hall and the Starks. It wasn’t nearly as crowded as she thought it would be when they entered, and gazing upon the banners hung up in the hall, Y/N realized they were one of the first families brought in.

Before her was the tallest man she’d ever seen. Her father was tall, she thought, he was bigger than the master-at-arms and her Uncle, but this one slapped her father on the back so hard she thought he hurt him. He had a great beard, too, and long black hair that was like the night. Beside him was a woman in beautiful white and grey silks, with hair so soft and brown, Y/N instantly thought of chocolate.

While her father and uncle loudly greeted the man, it was the woman who stepped toward her. Beside her were two children: A girl slightly taller than Y/N, and a boy slightly shorter. The girl looked just like the woman, down to her pretty brown hair and big grey eyes. She wore a lovely sky-blue dress that was simpler than Y/N’s, but she also had a braid that was tied back with a blue rose. The boy had long black hair that stuck up in a few directions and the same grey eyes. He wasn’t hiding his curiosity, and nor was his sister.

The woman bowed her head slightly, and Y/N attempted a curtsy while still holding her brother’s hand. “Lady Stark,” Y/N said, hastily trying to recall what she was taught. “It’s good to meet you. Thank you for having my family.”

“The pleasure is mine, dear,” Lady Stark said. She had a nice smile, and her steady voice reminded Y/N of her Lady Mother when visitors came. It was a comforting sound. Her daughter wasted little time in doing her own curtsy, but her excited words didn’t match the proper gesture.

“My name is Lyanna. What’s your’s?”

“Um, Lady Y/N of House Caspian.”

“I know which one that is,” Lyanna had a big smile. She seemed proud of knowing this, and she pointed to the little white manta rays on Y/N’s sleeves. “Your sigil is a black ray on a blue ocean, with navy waves. Your castle is on a beach!”

“Yes, that’s right,” Y/N held up her sleeve, and Lyanna happily admired it. Willam peered out from behind her skirt, and suddenly Y/N remembered him. “Oh, um, and this is Willam. My Lady Mother and youngest brother couldn’t come. Um, she wishes she could.”

“I wish she could as well, but I am praying for her health.” Lady Stark said. “I’ll look forward to seeing her next year.”

Y/N was about to ask why Lady Stark thought they were visiting next year, but the wild-haired boy took the spot beside Lyanna and spoke up. “I’m Benjen.”

“He’s the youngest,” Lyanna said, then added, “And the shortest.”

“You’re going to be the shortest soon, you know,” Benjen said. He seemed very good-humored. “Father said we’ll all be as tall as him. We’ll be able to put our elbows on your head.”

Lyanna scoffed loudly, and Lady Stark instantly raised an eyebrow. Before she could comment on that little noise, her husband took up Y/N’s entire vision.

He was tall.

Often, Y/N’s father and her uncle crouched on their knees when talking to her, but Lord Stark didn’t bother. He seemed to speak as loudly as the men at arms did when they trained. “Now, look here! You were up to here the last I saw you. Welcome to Winterfell, my lady.”

Y/N tried not to quiver in her own boots. She felt Willam’s little hand squeeze her’s, and she thought it was encouragement, but then she glanced over. The boy was trying to fight his own tears.

She opted to go for her courtesies. “Th-thank you, Lord Stark, you honor me.”

“Hah! Does she always speak so pretty? She’s a darling thing, Gareth. I wish Talia could have made it, but congratulations for your son. We’ll see them next time, I hope. Lyanna, Benjen, why don’t you introduce Y/N to your brothers?”

“I’ll watch Willam.” Uncle Cole said to Y/N before she could say anything about him. She worried her little brother would cry when his uncle took him from her, but she heard Cole say something about a knight and a wolf, and the boy’s eyes were filled with stars instead of tears. Y/N wondered if she was that simple when she was five.

Lyanna was quick to say “Yes, father!” and take Y/N’s hand in place of Willam’s. Before she knew it, Y/N was being dragged out of the great hall and out into the crisp, cold air. Benjen was hot on their heels, the air making his long black hair whip in every direction.

Benjen had a grin in spite of his words. “I thought father was going to make you cry, Y/N.”

“H-he wasn’t!”

“Brandon is pretty scary, too.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s just a big bother.”Lyanna said. “He thinks he knows everything because he’s eleven.”

“Lyanna’s only mad ‘cause he got to go riding this morning, and she had to stay and memorize banners.”

Lyanna made a move to punch his arm, but Benjen easily dodged her. Y/N was surprised she was allowed to move like that in a dress, then she looked down and noticed the hem of it was muddy.

They ran a circle around Y/N, Benjen not even bothering to really run, since Lyanna was hampered by her skirts. She knew it and gave up, tossing them down with frustration. The winter rose was sagging a little in her braid.

Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. “Um … I can meet your other brother, if you want.”

“Oh, Ned! Yes, Ned is better. He’s sweet and treats ladies properly.” Lyanna nodded, pleased with the suggestion.

“How old are you, Y/N?” Benjen asked.

“I’m nine in a few months.”

“Just like me!” Lyanna bounced. “Benjen is only seven!”

The boy wasn’t bothered by this. Instead, he took off running and called back, “Race to the training yard! Winner gets lemon cake!”

“You cheat!” Lyanna was already gathering her skirts and flying off. She whipped her head around, brown hair flying everywhere. “Come on, Y/N! Don’t let him win!”

“Um.” Y/N looked down at the pretty silver thread on her bodice, the little embroidered rays on her sleeves, and the neat hem of her dress. She looked around and, satisfying none of the servants were interested in what she was doing, pulled her skirts up to her calves, where her boots ended. She could run ladylike, couldn’t she? It was alright if her boots got a little dirty, because she could just clean them, right?

Y/N ended up doing something of a trot and skip, which didn’t look nearly as elegant as she pictured. She did her best not to lose sight of the Stark girl, and by the time she ran up to the training yard, she was trying not to huff and puff. Y/N hastily touched her braid and was relieved that the pearl was still there.

Lyanna’s winter rose had flown out at some point, and several strands of hair were in her face. She absently brushed them aside. “There you are, Y/N! Benjen cheated, as usual.”

An older boy was sitting on the fence, lazily swinging his legs. He bit into an apple. “Or you were too slow, as usual.”

“I would be faster if I had my tunic and pants!”

The boy snickered. “Mother would be angry.”

Lyanna had a retort ready, but Benjen waved to Y/N and called her over. “We found the wrong brother. Want to look somewhere else?”

Y/N glanced up at the boy, who wasn’t a real grown-up, but he was still bigger, especially when he sat up on that fence. He had black hair like Benjen, and while it was shorter, it wasn’t much neater. She didn’t like the look on his face, but she bowed anyway. “My name is Lady Y/N.”

“I’m Brandon. I’m going to be Lord of Winterfell.” He said in way of a greeting. He didn’t bother to stop eating his apple, or get off the fence.

Y/N was instantly annoyed.

Lyanna did that scoff again. “Right, he’s going to be an ‘important Lord’, so he’s busy. Let’s go find Ned.”

“He doesn’t want little kids tagging along, either.” Brandon said.

She ignored that. “Where is he, then?”

“How would I know?”

“Ugh. We’ll find him ourselves.”

Suddenly, Brandon asked Y/N, “Do you have a brother?”

“It’s ‘do you have a brother, Lady Y/N,’” Lyanna corrected quickly. “Where’d you leave your manners?”

“Same place you left your’s,” Benjen said easily, and both Brandon and Lyanna ignored that.

“I do have one.” Y/N didn’t like having to crane her neck up at this stupid wall to talk to this boy, even if he was the oldest Stark. “He’s three years younger than me. My other brother is a babe, and back at Ramsgate.”

Brandon huffed, and Y/N didn’t get what the attitude was for. It was Lyanna who explained, “Now that he’s almost good at sword fighting, he wants to fight every lordling that visits. He doesn’t even use a real sword.”

The older boy flushed. “I will soon! What do you know about swords, anyway?”

“I know as much as you, and probably more.”

That made him hop off the fence, and Y/N was dismayed to learn he was still tall without it. “Girls don’t use swords. Father already told you that.”

It was Lyanna’s turn to turn red with anger. Y/N was surprised at how quickly it came, and she wondered if this was a fight they had before.

“I bet I could use a sword and a lance better than you, if I was taught.”

“Well, you aren’t taught, and you won’t be, so you can’t be better.”

Y/N tried to speak. “Um, Lyanna, maybe we can do something else? Let’s walk around Winterfell —”

“Let’s try right now!” Lyanna said, not even hearing Y/N’s words. “I’ll use a stupid wooden sword, just like you. I’ll hit you right between the eyes with it!”

“You couldn’t reach me!” Brandon was yelling like his sister. “And Mother would have your head!”

“Are you going to tell on me? Afraid I’ll win?” Lyanna goaded, and that’s when Benjen tried to speak up.

“Brandon, stop yelling, everyone will hear,” He tried, nudging his older brother’s shoulder, but he was shaken off. Y/N tried to do the same to Lyanna, but the girl was as still as stone and couldn’t be moved. Y/N fretted, thinking of what her Lady Mother would do if she heard about this. She felt it was her fault, and she hated the idea of upsetting her father and the Lord and Lady Stark just hours after she arrived.

“Lyanna,” Y/N tried again to nudge the girl. She tried to hide her distress, but failed. “Come on, let’s go, I want to do something else.”

She looked to Benjen for more support, but the dark-haired boy was distracted. He was waving someone over, someone in the distance. Y/N looked with him — There was no way this person was an adult, and looking closer, Y/N saw he was a boy almost the same size as Brandon, but there was a small sword belted to his waist.

Lyanna stopped her arguing, and Brandon did too, but he was scowling. The new boy had the same soft, dark brown hair that Lady Stark had, and her pretty grey eyes. He said nothing, but Y/N could feel his disapproval.

Lyanna spoke first. “Brandon started it, he says I can’t use a sword and I know if I had one, I’d hit his stupid face —”

“— She’s a girl, and Mother said if she gets into another fight and ruins another gown, she’ll drag all of us by the ears around the yard —”

The new boy just let them talk over each other. When both Lyanna and Brandon saw they weren’t being heard, they huffed at each other. Lyanna crossed her arms.

Finally, the boy said, “We shouldn’t fight today. There’s lots of guests at Winterfell.”

Y/N didn’t expect him to say that, but it sounded like the right thing. To her surprise, Lyanna and Brandon looked equally sullen, as if they agreed.

“Brandon, you were supposed to be meeting guests with Mother and Father … and Lyanna, you already dirtied your dress.”

Lyanna opened her mouth to protest, then looked down at her muddy dress. She touched her hair, as if just noticing what a state it was in. Her mouth closed and she kept her arms crossed.

Brandon was ready to say something as well, but he just pursed his lips and made an annoyed sound. He and his sister glared at each other, but they said nothing. The new boy was giving his siblings a pleading look with those grey eyes.

“Fine,” They both muttered, and Benjen was smiling again. Y/N could feel the relief washing over her. She’d skip over this in her letter.

Lyanna lingered back to Y/N, her cheeks still red. She felt a bit embarrassed for acting like that in front of someone new, so she tried to move past it. “This is Y/N. She’s from the castle by the sea, at Ramsgate. Y/N, this is Ned.”

Y/N smiled and did her curtsy, grateful to the boy for restoring peace. She had a feeling he’d be nice to her, unlike Brandon. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She hadn’t expected him to hastily look down and mumble something. Had he not noticed she was there?

Brandon elbowed him, and Ned looked up, meeting her eyes with his own grey ones. She still liked the look of them, and now they were contrasting against the boy’s red cheeks. “Um. It’s nice to  meet you.”

“And?” It was Benjen’s turn to elbow him. Ned frowned at his younger brother, glanced at Y/N, hastily glanced away and added,

“AndwelcometoWinterfell.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at that. Lyanna was giggling at her side, and Brandon looked much more relaxed. The air cleared at once, and Lyanna nudged Y/N’s hand before taking it.

“Let me show you around Winterfell, it’s pretty here, even without the ocean. Oh, I know the best place to start!”

“She’s already in the best place,” Brandon said. “The stables are here, too. Let’s show her our horses!”

“I have the prettiest mare,” Lyanna said. “Do you ride? Oh, soon  Brandon is going to get a big horse, like the ones knights use in tourneys!”

Brandon beamed, and Y/N was glad the two had something they bonded over. Benjen added, “When you’re done looking at smelly animals, I know the best hiding spots.”

“And the kitchens, they’re making so many pastries for tonight!” Lyanna said.

“What about the top of the castle walls? And the big catapults.”

“The towers, too, especially the haunted one,” Benjen said. “Well, it’s scarier at night.”

Y/N noticed Ned hadn’t added anything to their list of suggestions. He actually seemed a little dismal, and he glanced up at the tall walls that Brandon mentioned.

“Um, Ned, where do you think we should go?” Y/N asked, wanting to include him.

He blushed again, and fiddled with the hem of his tunic. She thought it was odd how he had a little sword at his waist, but Brandon didn’t. “Oh. Um. I don’t know…”

“You’re coming with us,” Lyanna said, although Y/N didn’t think Ned would try to slip away. He looked forlorn about something, she just didn’t know how to ask or what to say. “We have to do as much as possible before you have to leave!”

He has to leave? But where? Is that why he’s so sad? Y/N wanted to ask him, but Ned was shrinking back behind Benjen and Brandon. The latter was already marching to the stables, calling the girls to follow him. Benjen tugged at his older brother’s sleeve to urge him along, just as Lyanna eagerly pulled Y/N.

Lady Stark was doing a very impressive job of managing a smile while fury burned in her eyes.

“Lyanna. Brandon. Benjen.” She said each name with great enunciation, and each child grimaced as their name was said. “To the baths. Now.”

None of them protested. Lyanna’s hair had long fallen out of its braid and her dress had a motley of grime on it. Brandon’s arms and cheeks were caked in dirt after deciding to show Y/N how to mount a real knight’s horse - and promptly falling. Benjen was dirty from his fingers to his toes because, while Lyanna and Ned were helping Brandon up, he decided to pelt his sister with mud and hay. She ran after him, tackled him to the ground, and that’s how her dress ripped, too. Brandon doubled over in laughter and Y/N expected Ned to intervene again, but he just sighed.

Ned was more or less clean, as was Y/N - she noticed some dirt on the hem of her dress, but she couldn’t do much about it, and she didn’t want to trouble Lady Stark. The woman sighed heavily, and she tried to return some sweetness to her voice.

“Sweetling, could you wash your hands for me? I’ll have a maid brush the dust out of your hair and fix the braid. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Lady Stark. Thank you very much.”

It was best to be courteous when the fire was under one’s “arse”, as her Uncle said, although Y/N wasn’t sure what that was and why fire would be under it. She liked the idea of her nails and hair being clean again, though. Lady Stark turned to her second oldest.

“Ned, it’s good everyone was having fun, but on important days like this, you should remind them how to act. I know Lord Arryn has taught you much about being a proper Lord.” She sighed, and much of the anger was gone from her at that point. “Brandon knows better, but he needs a cool head to set him straight. Do you understand?”

Ned looked as though he had been scolded, anyway. He nodded. “I know.”

“I’m not upset at you, love. I’m glad you’re home.” She gave him a quick hug, then turned back to Y/N. “I’ll show you where you can freshen up, sweetling.”

She was thankful Lady Stark didn’t take her hand; she’d already been almost reprimanded like a child, she didn’t want to be escorted like one. As they walked away, she glanced back. He looks lonely again.

His grey eyes met her own, so Y/N smiled and waved. He looked away, but eventually glanced back and gave her a little wave back.

The harvest feast was a flurry of colors and music. Y/N had attended such feasts at Lord Manderly’s beautiful castle, but everyone was so much bigger, so much louder here. Sometimes it was frightening, and she was happy to be seated close to Lyanna. They were at a table meant for the younger girls, but the ages were varied and Y/N could tell Lyanna was bored with all of them. Surprised at her own boldness, but getting antsy herself, Y/N was the one who suggested they seek out the boys.

“Great idea!” Lyanna said, and her enthusiasm made Y/N regret the suggestion.

No one paid them any mind as they left the table. Lyanna only seemed to be avoiding her mother and father’s gaze, but Lord Stark was loudly telling stories with Y/N’s father, and Lady Stark was in deep conversation with two other ladies. All it took was ducking behind two serving women and crawling under a table to make their escape to the door.

The cold air hit Y/N’s face again for the hundredth time, and it was no less refreshing. She missed the smell of the salty sea, but the mountains and snow had their own relaxing scent. She turned to Lyanna. “Do you know where they are?”

“I saw Brandon leave, I bet Ned and Benjen followed him. They always do.”

She was right. Close the feast hall was a yard, smaller than the big training yard, but still plenty of room for boys to poke each other with wooden swords and laugh. Brandon was taking on Lord Manderly’s two sons.

Like Lord Manderly himself, they were round, blonde and good-natured. They weren’t at all bothered by Brandon trying to take them on at the same time, if anything, they thought it was a fun game. They’d actually left her alone tonight, no doubt because all the other lordlings were playing knights and “sparring”.

“Wylis, Wendel!” Y/N called. Their father was the liege lord of her father, so it’d be rude not to say hello. Wendel stopped the game to answer back, but Brandon hit him square on the head.

“That wasn’t fair,” Wylis said. “You didn’t give him a chance to yield!”

“Hard to yield when you’re dead,” Brandon shrugged. Wendel rubbed his head, but still called “Y/N!” and waved. She waved back just to appease him, and Brandon took the chance to strike again, but this time Wylis called out and Wendel jumped back.

Y/N spotted Benjen, who was hanging upside down from a low branch on a tree. The three Ryswell boys were around him, wanting to do it too, and Lyanna announced her intention to climb higher than all of them. Y/N looked around for Ned, and didn’t see him.

Who she did see startled her. She thought he was a statue, but that was stupid. Who had a statue of a boy - no, maybe a young man? - in the yard outside of a feast hall? He was so still, and then, he moved.

His pale eyes looked down on her. Maybe it was the trick of the torches, or the moonlight, but they were almost colorless. When he stepped close, her head was just under his chest, and she was face to face with the emblem of a flayed, bleeding man.

Y/N could only manage a pitiful attempt at a curtsy. She recognized the house’s sigil, but the name of their lord and only son escaped her. She’d never met either, but it still felt like a failed test.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled her, and she didn’t know why. She hadn’t expected it to be so … quiet, yet there was little if any warmth in it.

“I …” She was allowed to be here, she was a guest, the same as him, but Y/N still felt herself faltering. She frantically glanced back for Lyanna, but the girl was too busy playing.

She was smaller than him, but she felt even smaller, and she hated it. Y/N was ready to dart back inside when she heard snow crunching behind her. Just a moment later, someone put a hand on her head.

“Roose, your father is looking for you.” It was Ned’s voice. Y/N glanced up, feeling comfort in his presence and the warmth of his hand. Normally she would’ve shaken him off, but she stayed still.

The Bolton boy said nothing to that, not at first. He glanced down to Ned’s hip, where the thin sword still was. Y/N noticed he had one himself, but it was a real one. A proper one.

It was Wylis’ oblivious voice that broke the tension between the three of them. “Roose! Come join us!”

Y/N couldn’t believe he was speaking to a proper lord like that, and she fearfully glanced at the taller boy to gauge his reaction. He had none. His icy eyes glanced toward the children climbing the tree and Brandon, and he simply said, “I haven’t used a wooden sword in years.”

That was it. Not willing to indulge in children’s games, the Bolton boy brushed past her, and Y/N felt the night air get just a little colder. She shivered, then felt warmth close to her fingers. At some point, Ned had moved his hand to her’s, but he didn’t make an attempt to hold it. Y/N decided to.

“Thank you,” She said, and she liked the little smile he gave her. He only met her eyes for those few seconds before glancing downward.

“Don’t be afraid of him. You’re safe here.”

Y/N nodded, even if she still felt anxious. The sound broke her out of her fear, and Ned led her over to the tree. Soon Brandon and Wylis and Wendel joined them, too, and everyone ended up cheering on Benjen as he swung to the highest branch.

Y/N stayed for three more days, delighting in playing with her new friends. It was mostly her, Lyanna and Benjen, but sometimes Brandon and Ned would join their games and exploring. She wished Ned would talk to her a little more, but he always seemed embarrassed, or one of his siblings would talk over him.

When it came time to leave, Lyanna started to cry, and that made Y/N cry. “You have to visit next year!” She said, hugging her companion close. “You have to!”

“I will,” Y/N said, already promising it without knowing if she could. Didn’t Lord and Lady Stark mention it? “I’ll ask my father and mother if I can come next year.”

“I’ll ask mine, too! Maybe they’ll let me go to Ramsgate. We’ll built sandcastles and collect shells!”

Y/N wanted to stay in Winterfell, but she wouldn’t be picky. She gave Benjen a hug, too. Ned had a shy goodbye for her, and Brandon was off on his horse somewhere. Lady Stark kissed her brow and said she was welcome at anytime, and Lord Stark patted her head, very similar to what her father did, except his hand was huge.

It was usually Willam sticking his head out the carriage, but he was fast asleep, and Y/N had no shame hanging halfway out to wave at the Starks as she left. Eventually they were too small to see, and then the castle gate closed, and her Uncle gently urged her back inside.

“When are we going back?” Y/N asked him, and she didn’t understand why he laughed. She was being serious.

“Sooner than you think, little ray. Your mother will be very pleased to hear you had so much fun. What did you think of the Stark boys?”

“Ned is quiet, and Bran is too loud. Ben is nice.” Y/N shrugged. “Lyanna is my friend, though.”

“That’s good. Very good. You can tell your lady mother all about them.”

Why? I sent her a letter. Y/N thought, but she just nodded and glanced out the window to watch the passing countryside. She didn’t understand why her uncle was so pleased, and she recalled her father asked that question, too … and didn’t Lady Stark? “What do you think about Winterfell, Y/N? Are you getting along with the boys?”

Y/N frowned. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t like Lyanna’s brothers because the only one I have is so young.

Whatever the reasons, Y/N quickly pushed them from her mind as she admired the passing forest and streams. It began lulling her to sleep, and she tried to make herself comfortable as the carriage jostled and the horses padded along noisily. She was fast asleep by the time her uncle covered her with a blanket.

[sandsofoneiros]

To Capture a Heart.

Chapter Two: Cianna Calling

Disclaimer: Had this ready Friday evening but since I was going to be gone all weekend, I decided to queue it up for you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I’m sorry if the first month seems a little boring. I wrote it last and it was a bit rushed. I hope you all are having a wonderful weekend and I can’t wait to be back on Monday! Also! Kylo’s betrothed is actually @thembohux oc!

Warning: Mentions of death, some anxious moments, slight cursing and two brats not knowing how to talk. Sparring match (i can’t write fight scenes. my bad)

Word count:  11139

Tagging: @thembohux and @booksmusicteaandanimals. 

The First Month. Age: 15

     Cianna was genuinely a beautiful kingdom. Hidden away by thick forest and magnificent trees. There were two ways to enter the kingdom, take a small boat down the river, or hike through the woodland. Normally, Poe would have preferred the trek through the forest, but this time the boats looked to be more relaxing. Another summer was upon him, and he desperately wished to turn the little boat around to go home. Things had changed this year, and he wasn’t handling them so well. The biggest change was Ben or Kylo. It was just a name change to help him come more into his role as future King of Naboo. He preferred a stronger name. Kylo had grown more, and it wasn’t only physically. He was constantly telling Poe about what he would change about Naboo to make it better. How he and Lita were going to improve so many things. Poe tried to follow along when his friend talked, but he grew bored after a few minutes. He was fifteen and his head wasn’t in the mindset to run a kingdom. It was always elsewhere. Daydreaming about daring sword fights, on a ship that was sailing through perilous waters, and so many other things.

  The tips of his fingers skimmed across the top of the water as they made their way through the river. It was cool to the touch, and he followed the ripples travel through the water. He speculated about how this summer was going to go and how Ro would be. He wondered if she had received another braid. That had been one of things that he had found himself curious about each year. Her hair. It was something that he looked at each time they got to see each other. Poe recalled her having seven braids last summer. She had shared the tales about each of the new ones that she had gotten. However, this summer and from this point on, was going to be different. They had chaperones this time. Their parents had insisted on it because of their age. It was a dumb rule in Poe’s opinion, and he had argued that they didn’t do that in Naboo. That had been the moment that Kylo wanted to punch his friend.

    “Not too much longer, Poe.” Kes called back to him. Kes had given Poe his own boat. They hadn’t been on the best of terms throughout the year. Much more arguing and Kes trying his hardest to push Poe on the right path. The young prince had taken to going down into the city and meeting with not so wholesome people. He would hang onto every word of their tales and would often try to sneak away with them. One guard who was patrolling the city would grab Poe before he got too far. Kes and Poe had fallen into a routine from all of it. They would fight, Poe would sneak out, and Kes would punish him. It was always the same story. Allowing Poe to go to Naboo for a few weeks had helped some, but when Poe returned, they instantly put him in a sour mood. He would avoid his father and would go spar. Trying to get some of his anger out. There had been nights where Kes had found Poe curled up under the portrait of Shara. Those had been the nights that Kes prayed for answers and got met with none. 

    Silence remained between them before they reached the dock. It was at the base of the mountain that was surrounded by a few waterfalls. Mist blanketing the kingdom of Cianna. They had built the castle into the mountain while the town was below it. The walk was going to be the longest part, but the view was always remarkable. He enjoyed hearing the rushing water as they crossed over the bridge. It was unusual to only see Thalia and Queen Eirlys. Usually, the entire family was there to meet them. 

    “Poe!” 

    “Thalia!”

    Thalia was already rushing to embrace him, and he hugged her tightly. Their friendship had surprised everyone and occasionally they pulled little pranks with the help of Ro being their look out. He saw her as a little sister, and he knew it made Ro happy to include her in their games. They hugged for a little longer before he pulled back from the hug. Eirlys and Kes were catching up with each other.

    “Where’s Ro? She’s usually here to greet us.” Poe looked around for the older Citlali daughter and frowned when he couldn’t find her. King Jaqen was also absent as well.

    “Her and dad are having a sparring lesson. Would you like to watch?” 

    He had only seen Ro spar a few times over the last years, and her form was always different. She had told him that both of her parents had taught the girls their styles of fighting. Jaqen and Eirlys seemed like opposites, and it made sense for their styles to be the same as well. Eagerly Poe nodded and grabbed Kylo’s arm to drag him along to the castle. He was a little excited to see Ro again but he wasn’t going to let anyone know that.

    “Again, Aurora.” 

    Jaqen’s tone was calm as he circled the room, examining his daughter and sparring partner. Both of them were slightly panting as they got back into the fighting stances. The taller male had more braids than the princess, but she didn’t let that stop her. It didn’t trouble her. Without breaking eye contact, Ro dropped to the floor and swept her leg out to hook around her partner’s. It seemed to work better this time, and her opponent fell onto his back before he could recover. She had him pinned. A practice dagger held to his throat. Her chest heaving as she grinned down at the boy. A cheer erupted in the quiet room, followed by multiple hand claps from her little sister and her company. The company that Ro had actually forgotten about. 

    “Poe!” 

    She whispered excitedly before tossing the dagger to the side and moving off her opponent, turning her back to him. That had been a mistake, given that Ignis had returned the favor to trip her. It wasn’t long before Ro fell on to her hands to break her fall and scowled back at him and then to her father. 

    “Never turn your back on your opponent, Ro. Too easy. Lesson is over for the day. Prince Poe, Prince Kylo. It’s good to see you.” Jaqen bowed his head to the young princes as he helped Ro to her feet. Checking her over for any injuries before fixing a piece of her hair that had loosened during the match. However, Poe was curious about sparring next. He hadn’t gotten the chance before. 

    Ro batted at her father’s hands before looking for Poe. The prince was looking at the practice weapons. His fingers curling around the spear before he took it off the rack and spun around. Ignis rolled his eyes at the prince while he dusted himself off. He wasn’t overly excited about Poe and Kylo being here. Recently Ro hadn’t stopped talking about the Yavin prince. It drove him mad, given that the other didn’t even give her the time of day.

    “Could I spar next, your highness?” 

    “I don’t see why not? Choose an opponent. Not Thalia considering she hasn’t been at her lessons.” Jaqen responded without even looking back at his younger daughter, who had been avoiding her sparring lessons for the week. Thalia merely stuck her tongue out.

    “Could I pick Ro?” 

    The question caught them all off guard, but Jaqen nodded his head. Kylo and Thalia were quietly taking bets on who would win. Poe was one of Yavin’s finest fighters and he took pride knowing that. Plus, not everybody has the chance to have a sparring match with their future spouse. 

    “Of course. Ignis, please move to the side.” Jaqen spoke as Ignis went to stand beside the king. Ro reached for the other spear and smirked at her opponent. She had only gotten to watch Poe fight against others and this was her chance to show off. The spear wasn’t her favorite to use, but she was competent with it. Poe was much like a serpent when he fought. His strike never missed its target, usually. They circled around each other. Each step planned. 

    “I won’t go easy on you, little princess.” Poe teased before performing spin that forced him a step closer. 

    “I wouldn’t assume so, prince perfect.” Ro attempted a strike to his middle, that he stopped quickly before sliding back a little. That little spark seemed to set everything in motion. They flowed like dancers even though their dances were different. Strike for strike. Determination shining brilliantly in their eyes. The others observed them in fascination. Both of them were well matched. Poe’s skills impressed Ignis. He kept Ro on her toes. It wasn’t often that she got challenged. The sound of the wood hitting together was filling the chamber, along with their grunts. Their knuckles paling as they tightened their clutches on the weapons. It wasn’t until Poe lost his footing that Ro seized her opportunity and swept his leg out from under him. Kicking his spear out of reach, she put the point of hers at his collar. 

    “Wow.” He peered up at her, not daring to move. His eyes roaming up her form and feeling his face burned. That had to be from the sparring match. However, he couldn’t stop noticing how strong she looked. How fierce. That fire that flickered in her eyes that made him gulp. He hadn’t seen her like this before, and it required him to do a double take when she reached her hand out to him. 

    “That was a brilliant match.” She grinned before helping him up. Their hands stayed conjoined for a moment before he gently drew his back. Jaqen clasped his daughter on the shoulder. While Thalia handed over a few coins to a smirking Kylo. It slightly hurt Poe that his best friend had wager against him but he figured they would share those coins later. Ignis had wrapped his arm around Ro’s shoulder, not caring about Poe’s existence at all. 

    “We’ve taught her well, your grace.” Ignis spoke as he ruffled Ro’s hair. Poe’s eyes narrowed at the gesture. Why was he touching her in such a friendly manner? Why did Poe care? Either way, he often wondered where he stood with Ignis recently. He never wanted to hang out with Kylo and Poe anymore. He preferred to be with Ro. It had been strange, and Kylo had implied that maybe he liked Ro, but Poe didn’t think that. Last summer they had butted heads more than he and Ro ever had. It was odd. 

    “I think the king trained her better than you, Iggy. She had you on the ground in less than a minute.” Poe teased before setting the practice spears back on the rack. Ignis growled at the nickname that the prince had given him upon their initial meeting. It had certainly lost its charm over the years, and Poe used it to annoy the guard in training. He had been training to be a part of the Royal Guard since Poe could remember. Ignis was taller than him, with long blond hair that followed the Cianna tradition of braids. He received his guard training. Despite Ignis receiving more braids than Ro, Poe thought hers were beautiful. She and Jaqen shared the same burgundy locks, and it was no mystery that Jaqen did all of his family’s hair. None of their braids were ever the same. Ro kept hers half up and down. He enjoyed the styles she wore her hair. 

    “Gentlemen, let’s not start that. However, I am having a scouting trip later this month. I was thinking Kylo, your father, and yourself might like to accompany us. It’s just to check the perimeter of our borders. What do you say? Of course, Ignis and a few other guards will join us.” Jaqen spoke. The scouting trip was mostly the men going out into the woodlands for a few nights just to camp and drink around the campfire. The older men would exchange stories, while some of the young lads would get their first sip of alcohol. 

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x 

    “Gonna miss me while I’m away, Sweet Aurora?” Poe teased as he peered over the book that Ro was attempting to read. Her emerald hues peering up at him for a minute while her brow lifted. The princess was looking forward to getting some peace and quiet around the castle. Ever since Poe had arrived, Ro had been wrestling with new feelings that had arrived when he had. She wasn’t sure what was happening with her, and she wished it would stop. However, she couldn’t stop the blush when he called her some nickname, even if it was ridiculous. Ro had planned to speak with Thalia about this, once the men were all gone for the scouting trip.

    “I fear I have missed the silence more than I could ever miss you, Dameron.” She turned a page in her book before leaning back in her seat as Poe crossed his arms over his chest. They were waiting for her father to give the word that it was time to go. The horses were all ready, and everyone packed. Ro figured her parents were sharing a private goodbye. Not that she didn’t enjoy the extra time with Poe. 

    Sitting in the seat in front of hers, Poe lay one leg over the arm of the seat while the other stretched out a little in front of him. A hand running through his curls as he yawned. Poe had been wearing his robes differently. Some men in Yavin had gone without their undershirt. The robe revealing their chest to all. Poe had taken up that look for the summer. Ro thanked the maker that he couldn’t see her cheeks at the moment. Her eyes trailing up and down his body before she heard Ignis clear his throat and take her book from her. Fingers struggling to grasp it and pull it back to shield the rosy shade of red her face has turned into. 

    “Not going to say goodbye?” 

    “Don’t waste your breath, Iggy. She wants her peace.” 

    Ignis rolled his eyes before the sight of her dad coming down the stairs made her sit up and go to him. It was finally time for all the men to leave and enjoy their trip. The goodbyes didn’t take too long and they watched the men leave on horseback shortly after. 

    Later that night, Thalia sat on Aurora’s bed, running a comb through her sister’s hair. Ro had been struggling to find a way to bring up her feelings for Poe. It was certainly harder than she imagined. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and picked at a loose string on her nightgown. It was now or never. 

    “Thalia, I need to tell you something. Something that I’m a little surprised that I’m admitting.” 

  Thalia hummed as she placed the comb on the nightstand and waited for her sister to speak. Watching as Ro turned around to face her, the younger Citlali reached for her sister’s trembling hands to steady her. Taking a deep breath, she rounded up all of her courage and spoke so rapidly that Thalia didn’t understand a word that she spoke. 

    “Ro, slow down. I didn’t hear any of that.” 

    “I realize I have feelings for Poe. I see him so differently now. He’s still a conceited prince but I’m seeing so much more?” 

    Thalia smirked at her sister’s confession before squeezing her hands. Thalia was the first to discover how her sister looked at Poe differently. It had been small at first, but as the month passed, Thalia finally had caught on, and now it seemed her sister had as well. Now, the youngest, Citlali wondered about the prince’s feelings.

    That was going to be Thalia’s mission for the rest of the summer. Figure out if Poe felt the same for her sister. Poe was harder to read than her sister, and that gave her a fun challenge.

    They spent the rest of the night with Ro, telling Thalia all the little details about Poe that she had recently noticed and what she liked about him. Both of the girls were unaware of their mother listening outside the door. A smile on her face about her oldest daughter’s discovery. She would have much to tell their father when he returned from his trip, and she hoped he had news for her. 

The second month. 

    “I wish she wouldn’t spend so much time with him. He’s constantly flirting with her.” Poe spoke before placing a card on the table. His gaze never leaving the sight of Ro and Ignis. Ignis had been a constant since he had come to Cianna and they had gotten along when they were younger, but now that they were older, it was very different. Ignis was training to be one of the royal family’s personal guards. He had already claimed that he was Ro’s personal guard. Something that caused Poe to clench his jaw. He could protect her. Poe was one of the most skilled soldiers in all of Yavin. It was going to be his duty to protect her one day. She wouldn’t require Ignis. Kylo raised an eyebrow as he watched Poe’s gaze and shook his head. Poe was jealous.

    “I think you really sort of like her, fess up.” Kylo snorted before lying down his hand of cards, indicating to Poe that he had won once again. Tossing his cards to the middle to be shuffled again, he saw Ro turned to leave with Ignis. Not again. Ignis had been dragging her away from them all morning. 

    “I like her better if she would stop wasting time with him. Hey, Ro! Kylo and I are having a rousing card game, want us to deal you in?” Poe called out to her with a grin. He missed the way her eyes lit up at the question. Instead, he was scowling at Ignis, who was frowning right back.

    “The princess and I are going down to the lake.” Ignis smirked. He was a year older than them. He even had more braids than Ro. Although, Ro always wore her braids in such beautiful ways. No one else could rival that. However, he had one singular braid that was resting over his shoulder. His arms crossed as he just stared at the prince. The friendship that Poe once thought he had with Ignis was gone. He should have acknowledged the decline over the years, but this summer had been the worst. The Yavin prince didn’t like that he had answered for her. Ro wasn’t one to let someone speak for her. He had picked up on that over the years, and it turned into a trait that he liked about her.

    “Poe, you and Kylo could accompany us, if you wish. It’s a nice day to get out of the castle.” Ro gnawed at her cheek as she worked to include them all. She preferred to spend more time with Poe and was stunned when he offered for her to play cards with them. Normally, they spend some together before going their own ways. However, this summer and the previous summer, Ro and Poe had chaperones. They hadn't been allowed to be truly alone, and anyone could guess why. Kylo was often Poe’s chaperone, while Ignis or Thalia were Ro’s. It had become annoying rather quickly.

    “What do you say, Kylo? Wanna enjoy some sunshine?” Poe gave Kylo a look. A look that told him he had no say in the matter. Groaning, he ran a hand down his face before putting on a smile. A smile that Poe knew meant that he wasn’t delighted about this. 

    “Sure, why not?” Kylo shrugged before pushing away from the table and stretching his arms above his head. Kylo didn’t care for Ignis, but he was taking notice of the teenager’s shifty way. He had caught him lurking around Ro’s room and her parents’ room once, insisting it was on his rounds as a guard in training. That never rested well with Kylo, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Poe yet. He didn’t see any reason to yet, but it wasn’t something that he was just going to forget. 

    “Wonderful.” Ignis rolled his eyes before he went to offer his arm to Aurora, but paused when Poe had already seized the chance. Poe murmured something in her ear that made her to laugh and lightly pinched his arm. It was no mystery Poe Dameron did not impress Ignis. He had attempted to be friends with the prince when he first showed up all those years ago, but he never thoroughly wanted a friendship. It wasn’t any secret how Ignis felt for the princess. Anyone with eyes could see that he cared deeply for her, and within the last two years it had turned to more. Poe didn’t deserve Ro. He had observed the prince teasing her and watched as he tried to avoid the poor girl for so many years. It was until the last two summers that something had changed. Poe was actually trying more. That wasn’t what bother Ignis. No, what irritated him was noticing how Ro was acting around the prince. She would smile more, her cheeks would turn pink at something he might say to her, and she wanted to invite him to everything.

    “Couldn’t let the princess go somewhere without her charming prince.” Poe grinned before tucking a strand of Ro’s hair behind her ear. This was entirely to annoy Ignis. However, he wouldn’t lie if asked him about how much he liked Ro’s hair. He always took whatever chance he could to touch it. Ever since he was younger, it had fascinated him. How she styled it each morning, how many braids she earned, the care she put into it. Today’s style was much simpler than what he was used to seeing. Four strands of her hair had been braided back to join together and went into a single braid down her back. It was strange to think that one day he would see her without her braids in the privacy of their own chambers. That there would come a time when he would undo each braid and have his fingers run through her hair. Heat spread to his cheeks and up his neck at the mere thought of it. He hadn’t expected such a reaction at the thought of her hair down. That was unusual. 

    “Poe? Are you alright?” Ro squeezed his arm to get his attention. Her face revealed concern, and when he glanced around, he noted the others were waiting on him. He had practically forgotten about going to the lake with them. Nodding, he placed his hand over hers and led them out of the castle.

    The path to the lake wasn’t very long, and the shade from the trees protected them from the sun’s rays. There was a silence between them that no one will break. Poe wasn’t certain he needed to hear Ignis say anything. He often preferred the other to be silent as long as possible. The clearing for the lake was approaching, and Poe realized that this might not have been the best idea. He didn’t think swimming would be fun after they walked back to the palace in soggy garments. There was another option, but Aurora was here, and he knew that went against their rules. Suddenly a thought struck him, and he practically growled. Had Ignis wished to bring her for some other purpose? It wasn’t sitting well with him. It didn’t matter that Ro was his betrothed.

    “Are we going swimming?” Poe asked, watching as Ro sat down and untied her boots. Praying to the maker that she wouldn’t go any further than that. He would have to leave, and he wasn’t certain if he could leave her with Ignis. 

    “No, I don’t want to ruin my boots. We’re searching for stones, mostly.” She grinned before rolling up her trousers. Kylo looked over at Poe after hearing why Ignis and Ro were coming to the lake. “You’re welcome to go back. I don’t want to trouble you.”

   “No. I want to spend time with you.” 

    All went silent when the words escaped Poe’s lips. His own remarks took him by surprise. There wasn’t anything wrong with spending time with her. However, he had always put up a fight any other time. He told himself that this was to keep Ignis from doing anything bad.  

    “How many years have you had to spend time with her, Dameron?” Ignis snorted while he followed Ro into the water that stopped at their ankles. He settled his hand on her lower back to steady her as they wandered through the water. “Careful Poe, there are tales of a water dragon that devours bratty children. I’m positive it would devastate your father if something happened.”

    Poe’s fingers were in a tight fist as he stared at the two. No one had ever called him spoiled, at least not to his face. He had been the sole child of the King and Queen of Yavin. His mother had passed before they could continue their family. He had missed her more and more in recent months, but hadn’t shared that with anybody. His father and he had argued more. Kes had grown distant, like before, when Poe asked about the adventures that his parents went on together. Poe was also desperate to leave Yavin. To see more than their kingdom and the ones that he visited.

    Kylo had taken notice of Poe’s expression before he stepped in. Poe was doing his best not to lose his temper, but he was cracking. “Ignis, watch yourself. The dragon might confuse you for a prince because of how mighty you speak.” 

    Poe chuckled before stretching out his fingers from the tight fists that they had been in. His arms crossed over his chest as he puffed it out. Two could play it this way, and he just so had the Prince of Naboo on his side.

    “All three of you should be quieter, otherwise the dragon is going to devour all three of you.” All eyes glanced at the princess who was carrying a few rocks in her tunic. She had created a pouch to carry the stones as she continued on gathering them. “After the dragon has had its lunches, I would recognize it as a hero for saving me from three boys who are constantly squabbling.” 

    The smirk she wore made Poe smile. He was used to her remarks, and after sliding his own boots off, he moved to accompany her. His own hands scouting through the murky water to find some stones. They scoured the water together and would periodically steal glances at each other before their hands bumped together in the water. They had both reached for the same stone, and it caused them to giggle softly at each other. Gently, Poe threaded their fingers and settled the stone in the middle of their hands.

    “We can share this one.” 

    “I love that idea.” 

    They hadn’t looked at the stone, but they happily nestled it in their palms. Ro’s didn’t care about the rest of the rocks that were in her makeshift pouch. They hadn’t usually held hands like this, and it caused her to blush slightly. Poe could be affectionate, but she feared it was just for show. There was any reason to believe it was more than that. Appearance kept their parents and everybody around them pleased. That’s what they had accomplished over the years. Make everybody else happy.

    Ro wasn’t certain when her feelings changed for the prince. She had noticed how individuals were just drawn to him; he was pleasant to talk with. His laugh was contagious. It caused her heart to flutter when he would wink at her or hold her hand first. The small actions had led to her falling more each time. However, she realized Poe didn’t return those feelings. They would be married in law, but never by love. The love would be one sided, and Ro dreaded it. She was falling for him, but he was falling for adventure and freedom. He yearned for it. It had never been a secret, and it grew each year. It never passed, and she couldn’t drown the flames. She would never wish to. Ro simply longed to be a part of his world.

    “Aurora, you’re certainly quiet over there. Something wrong?” The squeeze to her hand drew her from her worries. It caught her off guard when he spoke her full name. It always grounded her. Brought her back from whatever had tried to take her away. 

    “Mhm. I’m just curious about the stone we found.” 

    It was a lie, but what else could she say? Was she supposed to confess her feelings for him while they scouted for stones? He wouldn’t believe her, even if she did. The result didn’t seem to be worth it. The lie was easier.

    “I wager it’s the loveliest stone.” 

    There was his radiant smile again. It could practically rival the sun with its warmth and brilliance. A good deal of people called her lucky and undeserving of such an arrangement, but they didn’t see the truth. 

    “Lovely like you, curls.”

    “One of us has to be the lovely one.” 

    “Hey, it’s time to leave lovebirds! Supper is going to be served shortly.” 

    Both of their heads popped up before they glanced down at their hands. Ro being the first to pull her away and pushing the stone into his palm as she started towards the shore. She would not bother about wearing her boot back through the woods. She didn’t mind her feet becoming dirty. Poe followed as she stepped through the water and exhaled. Finally, he looked down at the smooth stone in his hand. It was strange that there was a hole in the rock and he had never seen something like that before. The design gave him an idea.

 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x 

    Later that night, Kylo had roamed the halls once more. Sleep had fled him, and he didn’t need to disturb Poe either, given how the prince and Ignis had seized every chance to provoke the other. He needed some peace for the rest of the night. Although Kylo had another reason for choosing to be out later than usual. He could stumble upon something like before, and he might not. He would be prepared this time. As time passed, Kylo heard faint murmurs coming from the end of the hall. One sounded as if it was pleading, and the other seemed more peeved than anything else. Quietly he approached the owners of the muffled murmurs, hiding behind one of the pillars, Kylo peeked around. It was Ignis and King Jaqen. 

    “Your highness, please. I am urging you. Let me be Aurora’s betrothed! The Prince of Yavin doesn’t want her! It is an awful match!” Ignis pleaded, and his tone was growing with each word. 

    “Keep your voice down. I understand you have concerns for my daughter, but Poe is her intended. He is a young man who yearns for more like some men do. I thought the same before I wed the Queen. Time will help.” Jaqen kept his voice steady, despite how frustrated he really was.

    “Time? He is fifteen and acts like a spoiled prince! He can never make her happy! She will be alone if she marries him!” 

    “Ignis Malka! You dare raise your voice to your king? You dare tell me about my daughter’s happiness? I am her father. Do not tell me what makes her happy. I have watched her grow and learn. Taught her all that I know.”

    The discussion was getting heating, and Kylo was becoming more anxious by the second. Ignis wanted to marry Ro, and he was struggling to get Jaqen on his side. He wanted Jaqen to call off their arrangement. He had to tell Poe. He kept himself pressed to the pillar to listen more.

    “Your highness, he will only hurt her. He does each day and you are confining your daughter to a wretched life where she is alone and will die young. Let me take care of her and give her the life she deserves. I ask you.” 

    “Enough! I will not hear such comments about my daughter’s betrothed and her future. Back to your post Ignis. Do not let me hear you speaking like this again. We will change your guard assignment in the morning.”

    Ignis said nothing else as Jaqen spun around to leave. Kylo didn’t dare move from his spot until he heard Ignis depart. The only thought that he had was to go to Poe’s room. This couldn’t wait until the morning. This knowledge could lead to trouble, and Poe had a right to know. The sound of diminishing footsteps gave Kylo the chance to start towards his destination. The halls seemed longer and never ending, despite the brisk pace that Kylo had. He skidded to a stop upon seeing Poe’s door and didn’t bother to knock as he burst into the room. The yell that Poe let out made Kylo slam the door close before he spoke.

    “Stars, Kylo! Knock first!” He had shoved something under the blankets, hoping that Kylo wouldn’t notice. He had already noted it.

    “As if you’re busy! We need to talk. This is serious.” Kylo crossed the room and closed the window, just in case. He wasn’t depending on anything at this point. Poe had shuffled up to brace up against the engraved headboard and waited for Kylo to speak.

    “I heard Ignis talking to Jaqen. This is truly wrong, Poe,” Kylo was reluctant to tell him. The taller prince was concerned that Poe would use this to get out of the merger. Kylo felt that deep down Poe cared for Ro. “Ignis wants Jaqen to end the arrangement between you and Ro. He demands to wed her instead. Poe, he thinks you’re going to make her miserable and she’ll die of heartache. Jaqen wasn’t happy by any of it but this bothers me.”

    Poe observed his friend while he told him what he found out in the halls just minutes earlier. Something deep inside him was boiling and traveling through him. He might not be ready to wed Ro, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t his friend. He would not say that he might never fall in love with her. It could happen. The idea of Ignis thinking all these cruel ideas about him made his belly twist into tense knots. The lies he whispered about Poe. He was doing his best! He was still young and trying to understand himself. This wasn’t helping.

    “What if he tries something, Poe? You didn’t hear the bitterness in his voice. The king kept having to tell him to calm down.” 

    “He wouldn’t hurt Ro. He’s not that stupid, Kylo. He’ll just make some sarcastic remark about me at every chance that he gets.” Poe sat with his legs crossed under him and ran a hand through his curls. This wasn’t something that he had thought would happen. Ignis had normally been silent with his dislike of the arrangement. However, part of him feared Ignis had shared those words with Ro. What if Ro thought the same as Ignis but was too scared to say anything? “I need to tell Ro. I can’t keep this from her.”

    “Will she believe you? Ignis is her best friend, and this isn’t easy to hear.” 

    “It’s not, but she needs to know. What if he’s already told her and convinced her it’s true?” 

    That worry was picking away at him. He didn’t want Ro to think he would ever do that to her. It hurt to think that maybe she believed it. So many concerns were flowing through his mind, and all of them involved her. This was a chance for him to look at out of this, to explain to their parents that Ro deserved to be with Ignis. A joyful union and he would be free. He could leave Yavin and experience the world. This was the perfect chance. Yet the image of Ro being with Ignis upset him slightly. Ignis being the one to see her with her hair down and undone, his fingers working through, and so much more. That thought made his blood boil. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t like that thought. 

    “Kylo, I need to ask you a favor. This is important.” 

    “Well, you get one favor a year so make it good.” 

    “I need to speak with Ro alone about this. Is there any way you can keep him distracted?” 

    “It’s never easy with you, Poe. I’ll see what I can do but you need to make sure that if something goes wrong that she’s not in sight.” 

    “Of course. Thank you for all of this, my friend.” 

    Kylo rolled his eyes before grinning just a little. He would do his best to support Poe. He didn’t wish to waste the day with Ignis while Poe met with Ro, but Ignis had overstepped a boundary. Kylo wasn’t certain what would take place when the two discussed the events, but it was better than Ignis planning something much worse. His gut told him that this was simply the beginning, but he wished he was mistaken. Even if Poe was struggling with accepting the merger, he had been doing better with it all. He treated Ro like a friend now and hardly got upset with her. They had both come a long way since all those years ago. 

    “Kylo? Do you think she might be happier with Ignis? What if this is a chance for her and I to live the lives we want?”

    Kylo glared at his friend’s comments. He knew Poe would consider it a chance to escape, and he just shook his head. 

    “Either way, you need to talk to her. Choose together, not just deciding for her. She deserves to speak as well. She has a voice, and it’s pretty annoying that you and Ignis want to keep speaking for her.” 

    “I just -”

    “You’re looking for your way out. You’re being selfish.” 

    “You don’t understand!” 

    “I understand that you’re more concerned about your own feelings than hers. I’ll make sure Ignis is busy tomorrow but I swear Poe if you waste this chance then don’t count on me for anything else.”

    With that, Kylo left the room. Poe’s head slumped back against the headboard as he exhaled. His hands reached out to grasp what he had been covering from Kylo. His thumb stroked the flat stone, and he thought of how he had planned on giving it to Ro. A gift for her. He had used cords of leather to make it into a necklace. The stone had a perfect hole for him to knot the cord, and he made sure it wouldn’t come loose when Ro wore it. That was if she even liked it or wanted it after they talked. Poe wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. He felt torn between continuing in this routine with Ro or having his own life. It was all so confusing. His fingers continued to stroke the stone, wishing that it would give him an answer. Nothing ever came.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    The next morning came and a half asleep Ro sat at her mirror as her father arranged her hair for the day. Her eyes opened when he tightened a section of the braid. She was used to her father braiding her hair for the day, but she detested the early morning. A yawn left her lips as she heard her father chuckle quietly. 

    “You have never been one for mornings, sunbeam.” 

    “Shouldn’t we decide what time we wake up? We are the noble family.” 

    “You had an extra five minutes this morning. Was that not enough?” 

    She shook her head as she rubbed the remains of sleep out of her eyes. Her hair fell in burgundy waves as her father pulled the rest up. Those braids starting at the sides of her head and moving back to coil around in a bun at the crown of her head. Some strands were left down to frame her face. Her fingers fumbled with ends of her hair. A habit she had gotten when she got nervous. The king lifted a brow as he watched her before adding the finishing touches to her hair. 

    “Something on your mind? Quit fumbling with your hair. . .” 

    “I just want to make sure it looks good.” 

    Jaqen lifted an eyebrow. He never doubted his techniques or skill with fixing their hair. It wasn’t like Ro to care how her hair was prepared for the day. She normally was happy with whatever her father did. He had even set out her clothes for the day as well, despite her preferring to do it herself. It made him wonder if she was doing all this to catch the prince’s eye. The exchange with Ignis from the previous night hovering in the back of his mind. 

    “Little star, if you’re worried about not catching the young prince’s eye, I assure you his eyes follow you.” 

    Ro couldn’t help but grin before she shifted around to hug her father tight. Her father wasn’t always one to talk about the arrangement, provided he was protective of his girls. It always troubled him they could do something that would fail later in life. His marriage was arranged, but Eirlys had been ready to put him in his place. They had learned and grew together. He cherishes his wife and their daughters. He simply wished the same would happen for Ro, but he was having doubts. Poe was still clinging to the dream of adventure, and he recalled that feeling. He still observed how the prince watched over Ro. The boy was conflicted more each day.

    The sudden knock on Ro’s door caused both of them to jump. Jaqen had crossed the room in long strides and opened the door to speak with the visitor. It was the guards, and neither of them looked pleased. They were a little out of breath from their trip to the princess’s room, but this couldn’t wait. 

    “Your highness! We require you immediately! The Prince of Naboo and Ignis are fighting in the courtyard.” 

    “Fighting? Pull them apart. Have you gotten King Kes to collect young Kylo?” 

    They shook their heads before he sighed. How difficult could it be to divide the two? He figured they didn’t wish to upset Kes when it came to Kylo. 

    “Go get Kes, and meet me at the courtyard. Aurora, stay here until this is all fixed.” 

   “But!” 

    “Aurora, no. Let me deal with this.” 

    Ro watched as her father left her room before she finished getting ready. Slipping a silk dress over her trousers before she sat down on her bed. This wasn’t fair! She wasn’t even near the courtyard, and she doubted that Ignis and Kylo would even care if she were there. She still couldn’t fathom why the two would fight? Where was Poe? If Ignis was going to hit anyone, then she figured it would be Poe. The summer breeze filled the room before she heard what sounded like an injured creature. Heading to her balcony, she placed her hands on the rail and studied the ground below. A pair of hands reached out to shake her shoulders as she looked for the creature. The sudden touch caused her to scream before they swung her around. Glaring at the laughing face of none other than Poe Dameron. 

    “Poe! What the hell? You’re not supposed to be here!” She hissed softly before she shoved him into her room. Looking over their shoulders to make sure that no one had seen or heard them. This was extremely risky. 

    “I know, I know! I needed to talk to you. This is important.” 

    They sat on the end of the bed as Poe explained what Kylo had told him. Ro couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and part of her realized it was all true. Everyone had told her how Ignis looked at her and how he never cared for the advances of the other girls. Her fingers fidgeted, and she chewed the inside of her cheek. How long had her father been hearing Ignis say such things? Did her mother know about this? Why had no one came to her and told her? Ignis was constantly around her until now, when her father had finally changed his post. She hadn’t even known that until Poe told her. 

    “This could be our chance, Ro.” 

    Their chance? What did Poe mean? What did Ignis admit his feelings have to do with them? 

    “Our chance? Poe, I don’t see Ignis like that. I don’t want to marry him.” Frowning, she crossed her arms, waiting for the Yavin prince to explain himself. 

    “I just thought this could be a chance for us to get out of the marriage. We could lead our own lives!” 

    The smile he wore made her heart break. Poe didn’t want to marry her. He wanted to get out of it after all their years together. She struggled to hold back tears. Ro had always hoped that someday he would like her. That they would become more than friends. Yet any time growth created, something happened to where it was all crushed. 

    “Leave.” 

    “What? Ro? We need to talk about this.” 

    Poe went to grab her hands, and she drew them back before wiping at her eyes. 

    “I said leave! I will call for the guards.” 

    Her voice was small and Poe could only frown before he bit back his own feelings. They hadn’t even discussed everything, but he had made it clear what he wanted. Had that made her upset? He didn’t want to fight with her, and quietly made his way to the balcony. However, the sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed wiping at her eyes made him feel guilty. Everything told him that needed to fix this, but she was telling him to go. 

    “Your braids look beautiful today.” 

    The minute his back turned and made his escape, Ro let out a sob. Another drawback, and she felt more hopeless than ever. What would it take for this to work?

The third month. 

    The kingdom of Cianna was bustling as they arranged for the approaching Moonlight Festival. It was one of the grandest parties that the Citlali household had. The castle was open for all to come and celebrate with them, and it took place outdoors. The night sky would dance across the waterfalls and the tops of the mountains on this night. The stars didn’t look so far away, and they went across the sky towards the end of the celebration. It was a brilliant night for all. Ro had ventured to the village below the castle and was helping set up. Making sure that all the lanterns and lamps were ready. Blue and silver decorated the entire kingdom and allowed her a sense of tranquility. 

    The argument between her and Poe still brewed at the back of her mind at odd times. She had wanted this summer to be the one where something would blossom, but it hadn’t. Part of her knew that she should have known better, but the other held onto some hope. Against her better judgement, she hadn’t spoken to Ignis about any of it or her parents. She had gone two weeks before she had even said something to Poe. She had apologized to him at breakfast one morning and that was it. No one around them knew what she was apologizing for. She would have given them some story instead of the truth if they had asked. She just preferred to forget all of it and move on. They had spent little time together after that, either. They would go on walks with their chaperones or play a game of cards, but once again that was simply for show. Poe and Kylo had taken to training with the Citlali Royal Guards, while Ro worked with her mother on some sparring lessons. It had shifted into something more awkward.

    “Beautiful Aurora, you almost dropped the lantern.” Thalia snickered at her sister before she took it out of Ro’s hands. Her thoughts had taken over again, and she practically broke something. Not that it would have been the first time. 

    “Apologies, I was elsewhere.” She laughed before choosing to hang up another banner. That seemed to be safer than trying to work with the delicate lamps and lanterns. This festival that she had been looking forward to all summer, but now it seemed bittersweet. Poe and she would share their traditional dance, but she realized that his heart wouldn’t be in it. She would feel guilty with each step that they took. Ignis would try to steal a dance from her, she would deny as much as she could. It would not be the night that she had dreamt of. 

    “Poe said he would be down to help soon. I told him I would stay to be the chaperone if he showed up. I’m certain Kylo and Ignis don’t want to be social.” She smirked. Thalia would occasionally let the two of them have moments alone, and it was something that both of them enjoyed. Thalia hated to babysit, especially when she was younger than her sister. She trusted both of them not to do anything wrong. This had been a little secret between them, and not even their parents had picked up about it. Yet. Ro couldn’t help the slight flutter of excitement that she felt at the thought of Poe coming. She still got nervous around him, despite all of it. He still made her smile when she didn’t want to.

    “That’s perfect. I know he really enjoys this and you’ll actually have a helper.”

    Both the girls giggled before a pair of arms draped around their shoulders, revealing the prince. His laughter chiming in as they jumped from him and wiggled out of his reach. All laughing together as the bystanders gave them all knowing smiles.

    “You can’t keep startling us like that, Poe! The next time, I might have a weapon on me!” Ro whispered as she held her palm to her heart, simply for Poe to take the other hand and pressed a small kiss to her knuckles.

    “I am your weapon, my princess.”

    She blushed as she glanced around to see the people of Cianna observing them. Her fingers threaded through his as she sighed. It was merely for show. She should have recognized. He wouldn’t ordinarily do such things unless there was someone watching. Her heart sank as she fell back into giving the people a show. Appearances were everything, and right now this was just another performance. These moments always lasted longer than she wanted and left her exhausted. Ro fell for Poe’s performance more and preferred to keep it going despite it all. She wished she could combine both sides of Poe and have one. That was nothing but a childish dream. A dream that she couldn’t have. It tormented her. 

    “I love this festival, Ro. The lights, dancing, and getting to watch the stars pass across the night sky. It’s just so fascinating.”

    Poe grinned as he helped the girls with the last minute decorations. Ro nodded her head as she worked in silence. She didn’t trust herself to speak, but smiled instead. Thalia and Poe chatted away cheerfully with each other. If Thalia wasn’t the mirror image of their mother, many would assume that Poe and Thalia were siblings. They simply clicked when Poe came to visit Cianna. 

    “Thalia, do you mind if I stroll around with Ro for a moment? Not too long.” 

    “You have ten minutes before I notice that you’re both gone.” 

    They shared a sly grin before the prince took her hand and turned down the alley. Ro eagerly followed behind him and felt a small rush at the thought of them being alone. Her hand squeezed his before they came to a stop, both of them smiling. It was just a slight moment that they were going to have to themselves, and she wondered what it was going to be about. She pressed her back against the stone wall and waited for him to speak. 

    “Everything alright?” She asked, before messing with the ends of her hair. 

    “I wanted to give you something? A gift for the festival. Something to wear to it?” He sounded uncertain of himself and he continued glancing down the alley to make sure that no one came searching for them. Poe retrieved something out of the pocket of his trousers. He held out something wrapped in a dark piece of cloth and he placed it in her hand so quickly that she almost dropped it. Carefully, Ro removed the cloth and smiled seeing the necklace. It was certainly beautiful and unlike any necklace that she had ever seen. The stone was smooth and grey. 

    “Is this the stone from the lake?” 

    “Mhm! I used some cords of leather to make it into a necklace for you. Do - Do you like it?” He asked as he shifted on his feet. He waited as she ran her fingers over the stone. What if she didn’t like it?

    “Will you put it on me?” 

    Poe nodded enthusiastically as he reached for the necklace and stood as she turned around. She lifted her hair up and waited patiently as he knotted the necklace for her. He secured it before she turned back around. Her hands immediately touched the stone again before wrapping her arms around him tightly. She couldn’t believe the gift that he had given her and it was the most beautiful stone that she had ever seen. It was the stone that they found together. Drawing back from their embrace, Ro pressed a tender kiss to his cheek before Thalia cleared her throat to draw their attention. Time was cut short, and they had to get back to getting everything ready for the festival. 

    However, Poe couldn’t stop grinning from the kiss that he got. It wasn’t like Ro at all to do that. They held hands and hugged, but kissing never happened. It wasn’t a proper kiss, but it was more than he had gotten before. His heart pounding in his chest, and couldn’t believe how soft her lips were on his cheek. Nothing could make his mood drop after that. She had accepted his gift, too! Poe was soaring, and he didn’t want to come down. This left him wondering how the festival might go. What if they actually kissed that night? It would be the perfect chance for them. The internal conflict seemed to be subdued for once, and Poe felt more excited to be with Ro.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

    Music wandered throughout the kingdom of Cianna as people eagerly flowed under the moonlight. Everyone wore garments of blue, silver, and white. They had fixed their hair with gleaming stones, pieces of jewelry that created the illusion of sparkling starlight. Their outfits and jewelry made him believe they had found some way to use stones from the moon and light from the stars. It was breath-taking. Poe was impatiently waiting for the Ro to appear with her family. They had a tradition of devoting a part of the festival to visiting the catacombs of their family. They would light candles for them and leave little gifts in their memory. This was only for the Citlali family. The music had quieted down as some ate and drank. Poe’s eyes continued to search around the garden, but she wasn’t there yet. His leg bounced impatiently as he waited. Plenty of other girls continued asking him to dance, and he declined. 

    “Impatient?” Kes asked before taking a seat beside the young prince. Kes had been noting how impatient Poe was growing with each fleeting second, but it also warmed his heart to see Poe excited to just see Ro. He had noted that Poe was becoming a little closer to the princess and was finally warming up to the girl. Ro was a wonderful young lady, and it honored Kes that she would be a part of his family one day.

    “That obvious?” Poe laughed before bumping his shoulder with his father’s while rubbing his hands together. It hadn’t gone unseen by Poe that Ignis was looking for the princess just as much as him. Suddenly, everyone had paused and shifted their attention to the stairs that ran from the balcony. Thalia was the first one down the stairs in her silver dress that was made of silk. The King and Queen followed behind, both wearing white outfits that matched perfectly. Then came Ro, and the sight of her made Poe gasp. The top of her dress was a dark blue and as it went down, shifted into a lighter blue. Parts of it glittered like starlight. But when he saw the bottom of the dress, he couldn’t help but chuckle at discovering her bare feet. However, it looked as if she had little gems on the tops of her feet. 

Oh. Wow. 

    That was all Poe could think as she descended the stairs. They had woven silver through her burgundy braids, and Poe was speechless. He stayed frozen in place as she reached him, and Kylo nudged him forward after a moment. His hand out, waiting for her. The world around Poe no longer existed as he brought her to the center to dance. They hadn’t stopped looking at each other as they waltzed to the music.

    “You look beautiful. . .” 

    “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

    The music had shifted into a more upbeat piece, and they hadn’t even considered taking a break. Poe continued to lead her around the floor while their laughs carried through the air. Twirling around, bumping into so many that merely laughed before waving them off. The sight wasn’t going unnoticed at all. Their parents observed from the top table. 

    “Look at them. I’ve never seen them this happy.” Eirlys smiled as Jaqen gave a brief smile. 

    “Her and Poe are quite the couple. He’s becoming a good man, Kes.” Jaqen admitted before taking a sip of his wine. 

    “Your daughter seems to bring out the best in him.” Kes watched as the teenagers continued to dance. It had been too long since he had seen that smile, and he wanted to thank Ro for that. To all around them, they were perfect for one another. That even in this garden full of people, they only saw each other. However, there was one pair of eyes that never left them. Those eyes darkened with envy. 

    Those eyes had watched the prince and princess disappear without a word. However, it wasn’t Poe that led them away. But Ro. The King and Queen were leading a dance and King Kes had even asked the Queen’s sister for a dance. Everyone seemed to be distracted. However, his biggest challenge was getting past the Prince of Naboo. Kylo. Ignis knew Kylo would make this impossible. 

    Ro led the way up the dirt path to the top of the waterfalls. This was her favorite spot in all of Cianna and she’s wanted to share it with Poe. As Poe followed her up the path, he did his best not to step on her dress and would occasionally make sure that it didn’t get caught on something. Both of their hearts were pounding in their chests at the little adventure. No one had stopped them, and this would be the perfect spot to see the stars move across the sky. It was perfect. They gripped each other’s hands before Ro brought them to a flat stone to sit upon. Her feet dipping into the cool water made her shiver slightly, but Poe took that as a chance to wrap an arm around her shoulders and bring her closer. He waited for her to push him away. Instead, she shuffled closer. 

    “I don’t want you to marry Ignis. . .” 

    “I don’t want to marry him either.” 

    Poe sighed as he struggled to gather his words. He didn’t know how to express his feelings without getting everything mixed up. There was so much that he wished to say, but he wasn’t sure if he could say it all. How could he tell her that the sheer thought of someone else seeing her with her hair down made his blood boil? How could he say that he wasn’t ready to settle down but wanted to settle down with her in due time? Why was all of this so hard on him? Her head had shifted to rest on his shoulder, and he held her closer. His heart raced once more. She wasn't a horrible pick for a betrothed. She could be fun, bold, and witty. Little by little, he had warmed up to her. Aurora had turned into a cherished friend, but he wasn’t sure if they could live their lives as mere friends. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved to be loved, cherished. He just didn’t want to make her wait for him.

    “I really am trying, and I know it doesn’t look like it. I just -”

    “You wish to go on daring adventures, experience the world, follow in your mother’s footsteps. I hear you when you think I’m not listening. I’ve known this since we were eight. I try not to push you. I try to let you come around.” 

    Her words took Poe back. He wasn’t expecting Ro to know the extent of his passions, but once more she had surprised him. Thankfully, the night was hiding his blushing cheeks from her gaze. Maybe he had been more than vocal about everything, and more than once. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to think of what to say next, but Ro had moved to turn towards him. Taking his arm from her shoulder and lacing both of their hands together. Her thumbs sliding over the tops of his hands. 

    “I would wait years for you. I would wait until my hair was streaked with gray if it meant that you would be my husband. We don’t have to be married right away and we have time. Poe, I would never refuse you anything. If you honestly wish to be out of this, then I will tell my parents. If you want your freedom, just say the word.” 

    Her emerald hues held more emotion than he could ever imagine and searched them for some type of deception, but found nothing. She will give this all up, if it meant that he was happy. She had once more put him before herself. Anyone would be lucky to have her as a partner. She was going to make her name known no matter what path she walked, and Poe wanted to be near her for whichever she picked. His eyes flicker from hers to her lips, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. Everything for a split moment seemed so clear to him. Everything was right in front of him. They had missed the start of the stars shooting across the sky. Poe had gathered every ounce of courage in his body to move his face closer to hers. Their lips were mere inches apart, and he slowly leaned in. 

    “Aurora Citlali!”

    “Poe Dameron!” 

    The angry tones of their parents caused them to jump back. Their eyes were enormous, and they struggled to get off the rock and not look so suspicious in front of them. Kylo and Thalia pointed to Ignis, who was standing behind the King. Jaqen didn’t look too pleased by the sight that he had stumbled upon. This was more than embarrassing. Poe was bracing to take the blame, and waited. 

    “I am absolutely disappointed to see such behavior from you both. You both know the rules.” Eirlys spoke as Jaqen frowned. More upset that Ignis had been right. 

    “Poe, did you drag Ro into this?” Kes asked as he studied the teenagers. His arms crossed over his chest. 

    “I did. Poe can’t navigate the forest as well as I can. I led him up here. I wanted to show him the stars from here.” She admitted before Poe even said anything. All three of the adults looked startled at the confession. Ro was the good one between them. It was the truth that Ro could maneuver through the woods better than him and half of Cianna. 

    “Oh.” 

    “Aurora, you aren’t supposed to be alone. I guess we can enjoy the rest of the view from here as well.” 

    Jaqen would not be too hard on his daughter, despite the glare he received from his wife. Poe wasn’t surprised that she had gotten off with only a few words from her father. Ignis scoffed at the lack of punishment and he wished that Poe had gotten blame. The guard had turned to leave and join his own family down at the gardens. The Citlali and Dameron family stood together, observing the stars. Poe had taken Ro’s hand once more and squeezed it as they looked at each other. Something had evolved between them tonight. Something that neither of them could place or name just yet, but it was there. It was warm. They knew come later or tomorrow, both Thalia and Kylo would question them continually about what had taken place before they were interrupted, but that would be their secret. They might not have experienced a proper kiss, but they had experienced something much more.