#when you are a pregnant woman who broke it off with your mistress the day before your wedding to your baby daddy

[eerna]

just to keep u updated on shitty media I consume, I just finished Emily in Paris s3 and if we never get s4 I will cry real tears

[lalunanymph]

bewitched (VIII)

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

pairing: naoya zen’in x f!reader

genre: forced marriage, historical AU

chapter warnings: mentions of feticide, mentions of a hanging, death, suicide, cunninglingus, explicit sex, a brawl, abuse, violence, gojou being a ho, mentions of alcohol, reader discretion is extremely advised 

a/n: 16.3k+ whew this chapter is long. also, I have no excuse for this chapter as well asdfhjk. reblogs, comments and feedback are always appreciated <3

masterlist ➺ act nine

“Misa-chan.”

The young lady-in-waiting halted in her tracks, swayed to a stop by a pair of pensive blue eyes. But, that was not what caused her to pause; for beside him, equally grim in his countenance, his father similarly frowned.

“Is Y/N with you?” If she noticed the casualness of Toji calling you by your mere name and not your expected title, she did not comment on it. The friendship you struck with the exiled Zen’in need not one to be questioned by her, and so she shook her head in response.

“Lady Zen’in requested for a spare moment to herself. She is by the gardens tending to her bonsai plants.”

At the mention of you, Toji seemed to deflate and he bobbed his head in acknowledgment. “Megumi and I understand that your mistress is currently gestating and hence, we do not want word of this to reach her… yet.”

Misa’s back straightened. Both father and son held a similar shifty gaze and gait as if they were unsure of how to proceed with what they had planned to divulge. The older Zen’in broke the ice on the subject. “We don’t know how to say this–“

“The baby that my uncle’s mistress is expecting is not his.”

The quiet that descended after Megumi’s involuntary blurt could have rivaled the stillness of a grave.

“What?” Misa blinked rapidly, unsure if she had heard right.

“We heard Naobito and Ira having a conversation in his private office and she shared that her conception date did not match up.”

As if a veil had been lifted, Misa saw the advantageous cook’s deceit clear as day. She gasped and almost had to will herself to not run straight to the kitchens and drag that wench by her hair. All the suffering, all the heartache that she had inundated unto a poor, undeserving pregnant woman into bright focus and for once in her life, Misa was sickened to her stomach at the thought of how ungodly some women could be.

No, she disdainfully countered her own vexations. Ira was not a woman–she was barely human for pulling off a level of subterfuge such as this to one of the region’s most powerful men.

And you… oh, her poor mistress.

Misa recalled how you had sobbed your heart out when you had discovered that the fruit of your husband’s infidelity bore a son that resided in another woman’s womb–even as you were unsuspectingly carrying your own two adzuki beans at the time.

“We have to let Naoya-sama know,” was Misa’s decisive action. “My mistress cannot find out about this. She has already seen too much.” Noting the sorrow in her tone, both father and son did not push her to further explain, merely nodding.

By sheer luck, they noticed Naoya drifting out from the halls and stepping out in the gardens, right in your direction.

As for you, you did not expect your husband to fondly chime out your name, and you set the untouched cup down onto the tray, beaming brightly at him.

“Husband—hello.”

Uncaring of who was in his sights, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “The men took a break from their strategizing to refresh after our travels. I decided to come and meet you here.”

“Ah. To keep tabs on me?” your jest was met with a raised brow and a buried smirk.

“Any misgivings as to why I should not do so?” he retorted, settling his arms around you and peering over your shoulder. “Oh? My lovely wife decided to have some refreshments without me?”

You bit down on a scoff, but lifted the teacup close to his lips, a teasing smile threatening to spill forward at the scrunch of his nose.

“What is that? Mint?”

“I haven’t got the faintest clue,” you mused as his larger palm clasped around the teacup, taking it from you. Naoya brought the cup to his lips and imbibed one sip.

What happened next was purely unprecedented.

Your husband froze, trailing those sharp honeyed hazels over the amber liquid in the delicate receptacle, then gluing his eyes on the pot. Before you could inquire as to his hesitation, his face paled remarkably, the cup slipping from his grasp to shatter onto the pagoda floor.

“Naoya—!”

“How much of that did you drink?” was his choked-out question. The furrow in your brow deepened and you shrieked when he grasped your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “How much of that did you drink?!”

He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but the tremble in your lower lip seemed to be missed by the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. From behind your husband’s broad build, Toji stalked towards him, anger darkening his usual impassive mien. “Naoya!” Chastisement ran rampant in his tone. “Get your hands off her! Your wife is pregnant, you son of a—“

Neither of you both anticipated his reaction. Naoya loosened his grip on your shoulders and took the pot, frantically lifting the lid and tipping the lukewarm contents through his fingers that acted as a sift, three purplish-blue buds obstructed in their descent to the tea-soaked ground from his shaky fingers.

As if he were speaking a different language, he uttered, “Pennyroyal tea, pennyroyal tea.”

Toji, taken aback by the sudden etiolation in his cousin’s tone, could merely stand and gape when the pot in Naoya’s grasp was hurled onto the stone floor, where it shattered into a constellation of porcelain on the ground.

“Naoya!” you cried, wondering what on earth had possessed your husband.

In Naoya’s mind, the faces of the whores in his past lives warped his memories, varying shades of women crying till their eyes were swollen, their lips parted in powerless pleads for him to not poison their wombs, to allow them to carry his bastards and prove that they were worthy of the Lady Zen’in title. But, he had forced them to ingest this tea, waiting and keeping tabs through word of his spies whether their moon blood would bring about the aborting of his seed.

It always did.

Naoya could constantly count on his old acquaintance, pennyroyal, to maintain his clean slate while he effortlessly ruined the dignities of those women around him. He supposes that this is his karma for all the stillbirths he had caused, the babies he had killed before they could have a chance to glimpse the world.

Fearfully, his gaze clapped onto the swell of your belly, the shape of your mouth a specter in his peripheral as it formed words that he could not hear past the blood roaring in his ears. Toji stepped forward to glance at the buds curled in the palm of his cousin’s hand and his face contorted into one of horror at the sight.

Drawn by the noise, Misa appeared by your side, one arm around you with Megumi not far behind her, the furrow in his countenance far too innocent for the undeniable destruction of his uncle’s legacy that Naoya currently held in his grasp.

“This is pennyroyal tea,” Naoya muttered through frozen lips. “A tea that is a potent drug for feticide. Someone was trying to hurt our babies.”

Your words fall into a hush, eyes wide and beseeching. “I did not drink the tea,” you whispered, “I did not, Naoya. Y-you stopped me in time. You saved our babies.”

He whipped up his head to face you with one searing stare. “Who gave this to you?”

Her name poured out from your lips before you could consider the repercussions, fearful of his reaction.

“Ira.”

His response was immediate. “Toji-kun, please tell the Hei to bring Ira here. Right this instance.”

Knowing that this is not the time to hesitate, Toji nodded once and disappeared. The reality of what had almost transpired made you weakened, and Megumi rushed forward to catch you before your knees could knock onto the hard floor. Together with Misa, he brought you to a lowered wooden beam, sitting you down atop the surface as you gathered your wits.

My babies were nearly killed, was your first thought. The second was, how could Ira do this to me? Naoya’s mistress knew her place and never showed the slightest indication of coveting your position. Her loud cries snapped your attention back into focus and you watched in horror as your husband shook his fist in front of her, drops of tea splattering onto the front of her latest silken kimono—no doubt a gift from your husband’s family for her success in carrying the next Zen’in daimyo.

“Did you do this?” The voice that leaked out from your husband was not his own. It was almost a growl, dripping with tones of warning should she risk herself by denying the truth. Ira took one look at the innocuous blue buds in his grip and frantically shook her head.

“It was not I, Master Zen’in!”

“My wife said it was,” he countered and took one threatening step towards her. “Are you claiming that Lady Zen’in is a liar?”

Showcasing that she was more audacious than you gave her credit for, Ira flickered those lachrymose light brown eyes towards you, as if you would fish her out from this deep end that she had willingly brought herself into.

“You did.” Even your own voice was a stranger to you. “You arrived here with the tea set and congratulated me on my pregnancy, all the while knowing that its contents would cause me to miscarry my babies. Is that true?”

“Lies!” Ira babbled, tears dripping like crystals down her cherubic cheeks. “It is all lies! Lady Zen’in is preying on me to cause my downfall–“

No one could have anticipated what you did next.

Pushing past your husband, your raised palm collided into her face with a crisp slap, one that reverberated across the gardens and left a glowing red mark on her pale skin. She gasped, hands flying to her cheek, the picture of wounded pride.

“Master Zen’in—“

“Round the kitchen staff.” The wobble in your voice did not distort the cold steel underlying your commands. “If you claim that I am lying, I want a thorough interrogation on those you call your friends to vouch for your innocence.”

Naoya clicked his tongue and the Hei warriors followed your lead. One by one, servants with pale faces gathered in the garden to witness a sobbing Ira who had sunk to the ground as if your slap had stolen all of her wills to appear composed.

Taking the blue bud from Naoya’s palm, you lifted it over your head for every man and woman to see.

“Earlier today,” you began, tone unwavering to reflect your flinty gaze, “One of you gave me pennyroyal tea to drink with the intention of miscarrying my babies.” Uncaring that Ira was starting to sob, you let fate decide for her, latching your cold eyes onto each and every pallid visage.

“She has denied it and called me a liar. If any of you do not come forward to admit this treasonous act of harming the future daimyo’s heirs—“

“I will personally hang each of you.” At Naoya’s words, Ira sobbed harder and you were too stunned to rebuke him. But, his utterances had the intended effect and a murmur rose through the servants, each of them questioning the other on this treachery, all except for a smaller girl who stood on the wayside, her horrified expression telling you without words that she had an inkling of who the perpetrator was.

Whether spurred on by you setting your sights on her or the tight frown gracing your face, she took in a shaky breath. In an equally unstable voice, she said, “I know the truth, Lady Zen’in.”

A hush fell over the crowd and you chanced a peek at Ira to find that she had stopped sobbing, her expression horror-stricken.

“I was the one who gave Lady–Ira the pennyroyal buds in case she changed her mind and wanted to a-abort her child. I… I had no idea she would utilize those herbs to harm you.” Bowing her head forward, she sobbed loudly and sank to her knees. “Forgive me, Young Master and Lady Zen’in! Please, forgive me!”

The ice in Naoya’s tone could’ve rivaled the frostiness of winter wind. “Stand up.”

She dashed at her tears and got to her feet where she was accosted by two Hei samurais who gripped her forearms. Charting your disdainful glare towards Ira, you spoke directly to her.

“Are her words true?”

“N-no—“

“If you lie, we will hang her and force you to watch.” Though you had zero authority to order for execution, this simple country girl did not need to know the inner power plays of your marriage. She gasped, hands fluttering to her belly.

“It would cause me to miscarry—“

“The same way you tried to get me to miscarry,” was your blunt countering.

A stretch of silence blanketed this farce of a trial, and you were close to imploding when a lower, masculine tone stole your attention.

“Ira, do not drag out your retribution,” Toji spoke directly to her, scarred lips twisted into a grimace. “There has been confirmation that the child you are carrying is not Naoya’s.”

For the second time today, your knees nearly gave out. The hand grasping the pennyroyal bud dropped to your side, and you gaped at Toji. But if you were stunned, it was nothing compared to Naoya’s ashy countenance.

“Is this true?”

This time, Ira had committed an offense against him, as well, and he was not kind enough to allow her an interrogation to appeal her innocence. Your husband rushed to her and before she could defend herself, his large palms shot out to wrap around her neck, wrangling her next utterances.

You did not know what compelled you to come to her aide, but you gripped his hands, attempting to pry his hold from Ira’s neck. “Husband!”

As if pacified by your touch, Naoya released Ira, incredulous, not a trace of warm honey in his eyes. “Are you stopping me from doling out punishment on an errant whore, wife?” At his words, Ira gasped out a sob and you almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

“Banish her.”

Silence met your suggestion. For another moment, your husband was unblinking, ruminating on the possibilities.

“Does my father know?” That question was directed to Ira. The servants who were standing a few feet away could not understand why their master was spurned by the first woman who bore his son. She shook her head, tears clinging like dew on her fluttering lashes. Even while she was crying, she was still a sight, and that thought sent a stab of jealousy deep in you.

Unbidden, she gave her answer away through her silence. Naoya’s mind was made up.

“Leave this estate.” Nodding towards Toji, he said, “Tomoko will take care of her until she bears my half-brother. After that, her destiny is no longer our concern.”

The Hei samurai who stood by the fray swooped forward at their liege’s words and clamped a tight grip around Ira but their fervor was wasted; she was as pale as a spirit and did not put up resistance, allowing them to haul her off in a distasteful fashion.

Naoya gave the order for the servants to disperse, less they start breaking out in gossip here and now. The air in the garden was solemn from the remaining parties, neither you, your husband, Toji, Misa, or Megumi knew how to crack the ice.

Misa noticed your lower lip trembling. “Lady Zen’in—“

“I wish to speak to my husband,” was your command and even he did not refute your presence. Naoya swiftly graced your side, your once empty chambers the debrief zone where you could fully grasp what had transpired. You did not seek out his touch, collapsing to the side of the bed.

Eventually, you found your voice to bring forth the thoughts from the tortured depths of your mind.

“If you take another woman as your concubine and subject me to another ordeal in that manner, I will permanently remove myself from this estate—with brute force and without caring whether it is to my detriment if I need to.”

Your expectation was rife for him to deride your sentiments or to raise arms at the impertinence you attacked towards his right as a man. But, Naoya did not retort, moving forward to envelop you in an embrace. He found solace in the crook of your neck and you dared not breathe.

What you were asking of him was akin to insulting a man’s virility. You were a woman and you had no right to make demands of him in such a suffocating fashion. But, he did not cast aside your worries, and unbeknownst to you, Naoya was reeling from the consequences he had struck onto this marriage, recognizing for a second time how he could’ve almost lost his wife and babies. For pennyroyal tea did not just cause feticide, it could also adversely affect the mother for her future pregnancies.

Naoya should have seen Ira’s cunning from a mile away, but he had been so enraptured by the pitfalls of his duty that he had unknowingly placed harm in the direction of his only beloved.

“I promise,” was his hoarse utterance.

You did not push him for more, taking that simple notion in stride and allowing him to seek out your lips. The kiss was warm and brimming with relief; for your safety and for the well-being of his children. I am sorry, Y/N, was his silent plea. I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you.

But, with your arms around him and the scent of roses filling his chest, Naoya is absolutely sure that he is not deserving of your grace. It became evident when you soften, pressing your lips to his forehead, a stamp of forgiveness he does not deserve that he realizes no matter what he does to make it up to you, there is no shred of doubt that you would always be a better person compared to him.

His better half. The love of his life.

The one and only Lady Zen’in.

For weeks after Ira’s attempt to commit harm to your babies, Naoya had every meal personally tasted by an appointed kitchen servant, wary of a hidden campaign to bring ruin to your pregnancy. But he did not have to worry for none of the servants harbored any ill-will towards their mistress beyond one who was no longer allowed in their ranks or these walls.

He had received word that Ira was as penitent as a humble monk when she arrived at the ryokan, and though Naobito was aware of the tragedy that befell her, he did not broach the topic with his son, most likely to save his face.

As the whole estate was aware of how he had impregnated a servant who had got it into her head that she would be the next Lady Zen’in, word soon spread beyond the fiefs. Gojou Satoru, though a neutral party to the domestic conflict, remained affable and good-natured when he teased Naoya of his shortcomings, ignoring the younger man’s barely concealed ire. The intricacies of power-play between those two men were none of your concern and you focused on expanding your duties as the lady of the house which only earned your husband’s consternation that you should be resting.

Eventually, all your worry was for naught.

It was to your pleasant surprise that Megumi was the one who welcomed the Gojou liege, and you had discovered from Toji the true depth of their comradeship. Megumi considered Satoru to be like his brother since he had grown up on the plush lawns of the Gojou estate when the former had watched over him while Toji carried out his blood-spattered missions in the name of Gojou Satoshi, Satoru’s deceased father.

The white-haired lord was a steady presence to continually ensure that Naobito did not prey on his own son, and you were thankful for the fortification of your husband’s safety that Satoru’s appearance afforded.

As for your husband, gone was the stressed and caustic man and in its place was a devoted father-to-be who insistently spent every spare moment he had by your side to ensure your safe pregnancy. He would bring you as many candied apples as you requested though he made sure to send word to the kitchens to balance out the caloric intake with a higher serving of vegetables for you.

Naoya would spend nights marveling at the growing bump you were sporting when he wasn’t satiating his obscenely high libido and leaving you to wonder how you could keep up with his satisfactions. Such as this morning when he awoke you with a kiss on your forehead. Initially exhausted, you did not pay him mind when those same warm lips pressed down your neck and further down the length of your nude body. Sleeping in clothes was next to impossible when it came to your husband’s insatiable lust.

His larger build slotted between your thighs, and he hitched them over his shoulder. Presses of those same fleeting kisses met the soles of your feet and you flinched slightly, giggling at the fluttery, ticklish sensation. “Naoya,” voice still raspy with sleep was how you greeted the eagerness of his mouth on your innermost parts. Back arching and a gasp that was stolen from you, you whimpered when he continued to eat you out passionately, uncaring that incomprehensible whines were slipping from between your gritted teeth.

Your husband was not shameless in the least when he groaned into your folds and you gasped, fingers sinking into the soft strands of his now lightened hair. Honeyed hazels flickered to your dilated pupils with mirth and he studied those rapturous expressions flitting across your countenance. The flash of a pink tongue swirled over your clit and you gasped once more, this time fully cognizant and panting with yearning. The morning sunlight streaming peacefully through the windows bore witness to how you were squirming and moaning in his hold, pulses of lust wrecking through your body.

“Mmm,” his obscene moans spurred you on to glance down at him from the line of your body, your growing bump almost obstructing the view of his eyes that seemed to twinkle with mirth at your expressions. Like the cresting ocean, your release washed over you and you cried out, one hand curled in his hair and another white-knuckling the sheets underneath you.

Naoya’s smirk carved its way into your vision when he rose up to meet you, pressing a soft kiss to your panting mouth. Woozily, you blinked at him, tongue peeking out to taste the sweet-salty tang of your own juices from the plush flesh of your bottom lip.

“G’morning,” he chirped and you fixed him with an exasperated stare as if he hadn’t just woken you up with an earth-shattering release. Pouting at how nonchalant he seemed, you wormed your way into his arms, hiding your flushed cheeks into the crook of his neck.

“Wha’was that for?” you slurred in a voice still dripping with sleep.

In answer, he kissed the top of your head. “Go and get ready for today.”

Frowning lightly, you wondered why he was not answering your question. “Husband—“

“I’ve planned a picnic for us,” he said, tone drenched with obvious excitement that immediately awakened you.

“You did?”

Naoya chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Y/N. I understand that I’ve been busy these past few days and I wanted to spend some time with you before your brother’s wedding.” At the mention of Noritoshi’s upcoming celebration, you visibly deflated. Since you were gestating, Naoya was of the opinion that you should rest at home and not tire yourself out with festivities. But it seemed contradictory now when he piqued the idea of a picnic.

Something told you there was a deeper meaning for his insistence on you not joining the wedding, but you did not push it. Your brother said it best before you had left the Kamo estate—there were some affairs you need not worry about; rather, you should focus on the precious, growing adzukis in your womb.

Speaking of your babies, your husband was smiling and pressing kisses onto your bump, apologizing for waking them up too early today but not to his playfully disgruntled and still exhausted wife. Despite the early morning, you didn’t want to put a damper on his mood and requested for the maids to help you dress. Once you were refreshed and draped in a flowing silky yukata that allowed for easier movement of your legs, you studied your expression once more.

The thought of spending a few hours out in the sun made you visibly flush with excitement, the apple of your cheeks all but shining with anticipation. Misa and Sayuri both helped pin your hair into an intricate braid, dotted with white wildflowers between the strands and scented with fragrant rosewater mist. That came to your benefit when Naoya would not stop burying his face into your neck–your fragrance much too alluring for him and uncaring that the samurais could spot the two of you canoodling from the carriage windows.

He instructed them to base the carriage towards the footholds of a hill, and the both of you walked a short way, the sky overhead pristinely blue and opening up like the gaping white smile. The warm rays felt good and you turned your face towards the sky, unaware of your husband stealing glances at you. A maid and two Hei warriors followed the both of you to provide service and protection, but he did not pay them any mind when he pulled you close to his side, large and warm palm firmly on the dip of your lower back.

“Where are you taking me, Naoya?” you gently teased and he glanced down at you, expression unlike a sly fox.

“My special place, Y/N.”

You were intrigued and it must’ve shown on your countenance for he started smiling. “I used to ride up here with Kuru when he was but a growing foal and spend hours in this one clearing. It’s one of my favorite special places and I was hoping to share it with you.”

Heart skipping a beat, you nodded, not wanting to seem overeager at the prospect of discovering more about your husband and spending time with him. The briar patch faded out into an empty field, much like the fields Noritoshi and you had explored during your girlhood. The maid hurried to spread a blanket on the flattened ground, pinning the corners down with iron weights and ladening it with fruits, slices of meat, skins of water, and even your favorite honeyed cakes with a peach gelee. You stared at the spread in wonder, none more so than the dashing young man who took you by the hand and sat you down next to him, enjoying your look of delight.

“This is beautiful,” your hushed appreciation drew his satisfaction. “How long have you planned this?”

“About a week or so,” he said casually and brought a peeled and pitted lychee to your lips. You bit down on the sweet fruit, licking the juices from the corners of your mouth and not missing how your husband’s eyes darkened. The maid and the Hei were a few feet away, presumably to give you both some privacy, and you inwardly snickered with devilish glee, bending your head forward and wrapping your mouth around his sweet-slick fingers, sucking them lightly.

You released his digits with a lightpop and Naoya chuckled, the sound strained and with an edge of breathlessness. “I have forgotten how brazen you can be.”

“I shall continually remind you, then.” Naoya fought back a grin at your promise. It was your turn to feed him and he repaid the favor, suckling at the tips of your fingers for the last stray bits of peach cream, much to your heated cheeks.

In between feeding each other, you both spoke of politics, the babies, and the inner workings of the estate. One surprising fact you had come to discover about your husband was how he clandestinely enjoyed spilling gossip; you had another source now beyond Misa and entertained him with your takes on it. What a difference a few weeks could make. In the process of healing, forgiving, and re-discovering each other, it was inevitable that your views on the other person would change and for you, there was an appreciation for the man he was now.

Naoya was showing you that he could be a pillar to lean on and a good friend when you needed beyond just being your husband and liege. Baby steps–that was the word you were looking for. It was all a period of trial and error and tender beginnings.

After the meal, you both stayed in each other's arms, lying on the blanket once the maid cleared the items away. Naoya had ordered for the samurai and her to leave the both of you alone and stand further into the briar patch where they could not eavesdrop on the sweet nothings he was uttering into your ear. You loved how relaxed he looked now, more so than during your honeymoon, the overhead branches speckling their shadows across his face. A honeybee, fat and redolent with pollen, was drowsily languishing its way from petal to petal and you stared at it, feeling connected to its somnolent manner.

“Tomorrow I’ll be following Gojou-sama to the wedding,” you heard him say. Cheek on his chest, you could only nod.

“I shall send you off,” you said softly. “Please pass my brother my regards and the gifts I got for him and his new bride.”

He played with the end of your braid, tugging it gently. “I wish you could follow but I think we’ve put you through enough already—both your brother and me.”

Chortling, you said, “As long as you and Toshi can put on airs of civility for a few nights, I can rest assured.” Naoya did not echo your laugh, but you felt his fingers tracing your jaw. A heavy sigh and he rolled you over, pinning your body under his. The gentle rays illuminating his gaze did not touch the dark hunger that eclipsed his eyes, and you parted your thighs, harmonious with both your reciprocated desires.

“You really have placed a spell on me,” he murmured, straying his touch further down to unloop your obi and tug on the strings holding up the innerwear that was keeping your body away from his prying eyes.

“I have?” You sounded breathier than you intended.

He found the seam of your cunt, tracing the swell of your folds and clit lightly with one finger.

“You have,” he confirmed, brushing his nose with yours. “I cannot stop thinking about your taste, your sounds, your sighs, the tight grip–“ he slipped one finger into you, enjoying the quick gust of your startled breath, “–of this sweet cunt.” Uttering the words he used to bestow onto you at the start of your marriage, he murmured, “She has bewitched me. You have bewitched me.”

Curling his finger upwards, Naoya was steady with its smooth thrusts towards the slow build-up of aching need he was eliciting from your body. Thumbing your clit and grazing the swollen spot deep in you with his forefinger, sunlight branded a hot orange behind your scrunched eyelids, his name coming out a scratchy moan.

Your hot breaths dissolved into puffs and you pried your eyes open, hips canting along to his skillful fingers. Discarding your ladies’ efforts this morning, he undid your braid, the petals shaken from your hair and crushed under your back when he laid you back down onto the blanket to further bring you closer to ecstasy.

“You drive me wild,” he murmured, slipping another finger deep in you. “Everything about you makes it feel all so brand new.”

If you drove him wild with just your body, he drove you crazy with his words that got you gasping and preening under his ministrations. Naoya was adept at pumping his fingers swiftly in you, getting your body singing and you crying out to the heavens as if they could bestow unto you the release he was edging out from you bit by bit. The seal of his warm mouth was insistent on your intumescent nipples, mouthing and sucking on them until your hips faltered and you cried out.

Teasingly, he did not grant you that great explosion towards your zenith, content to keep your lust simmering by slowing down the motions. Your whimpers made a devious smile stretch across his angelic features, the devilish motion telling you without words how your husband was in a frivolous mood today. He tugged the sleeves of your yukata down, further exposing your breasts and the purple marks he left around the plush flesh to the world beyond, the sun a burning observer to the remaining teasing grazes he gifted upon your trembling body.

You could barely think straight, the moans pouring out from your mouth in a growing frenzy, your hips swiveling and begging for him to take you to that sacred point between reality and the gates of pleasure. How your husband could turn you this wanton and debauched without even needing to put his cock into you was beyond your comprehension, but you didn’t pay it any mind–not when you were a flicker away from the strongest release of your life.

“Naoya, please!” you begged for more friction, for more of his tongue flicking your turgid buds, just for more of him. Quick as the flowing river, he loosened the strings that kept his body hidden from yours and removed his fingers from your heat, sinking his cock into your walls in one fell motion, languishing in your sharp breath of relief. Your ankles hooked around his waist, the blanket crumpling at the edges and you were sure the both of you would get caught–bold as you two were in declaring your passions for the open sky to witness.

Like the first quaking of the earth, your body seemed to not hold onto any shred of control, his cock hitting that same spot that made you tremble, your thighs all but clenching around his waist in a python-like grip. The world swam and shimmered in the slow-turning noon rays. Wisps of dark-tipped strands tickled your cheeks, warm puffs of his ragged breaths touching your parted lips.

Your release burst forth like the unfurling of a sunflower’s petals in the morning light, and you cried out his name, pleasure alike with cascading streams of warmth taking you under its surface. With a low groan of your name, your husband spilled into you for the first time today—and undoubtedly the last—his praises lavished upon you in a breathy manner.

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighed almost profoundly, kissing you softly on your lips. The both of you made no move to disentangle yourselves from each other, content to smooth loving pecks on generous amounts of cheeks, brows, temples, and anywhere else that your lips could seek.

Naoya was gentle when he pulled out from your depths, the seam of his embrace as familiar as the back of your hand; the crook of his neck welcoming the contours of your cheek and nose as intimately as if its shape was meant to cradle it.

“Are you lucid?”

You hummed and snuggled impossibly close to him. “I am well.”

“Good,” he said and your world tilted when he brought you both into a sitting position. “For I would like us to renew our wedding vows.” There was an edge in his tone that complemented the surprise glossing over your features. Earnest as he was, you could not help but find this moment bittersweet. The wedding vows the both of you had uttered the first time were compromised by his infidelity, and you could tell that same vein of thought was making its way in his mind. As you approached his suggestion with an air of caution, you did not miss how the light in his eyes seemed to falter.

“We do not have to do it if you deem us not ready,” he said, a tight smile as his façade to the sting of disappointment. He touched your cheek to remedy the quiet your hesitance quelled in his soul. “I intended to take you out here today to let you know how much I… I want this marriage—maybe more than you do, and I am willing to show it.”

Voice stuck behind your throat, you could barely breathe. Eventually, you placed your hand on his.

“Would you mean those words this time?” was your soft question. His answering nod was eager and solemn in equal parts.

“You have given me hope for a life which I thought was out of my reach, my love.” Tender as velvet petals, he touched his lips to your forehead, whispering his next words against your skin. “And I want to keep my vows to you till the end of my days.”

You did not answer him, for your next actions gave him the commitment he desired. Grasping the thin sash of your obi and his, you braid it together, light green with blue, and took his hand in yours. Binding both of your hands together, you flitted your gaze to him, moved by the glimmer of tears on his lash line.

“Let us renew our vows, then.”

Naoya tightened his grip around your hand, your bare bodies shifting closer as the silks that draped your shoulders formed a cocoon of snug safety around both of your nearly bare figures.

Your husband cleared his throat, smile effervescent and honeyed eyes delving into yours as he started in a pellucid and steady tone.

“I pledge to give you everything of mine, whether worldly or transcendently—my spirit and body both.”

It was your turn and you took a deep breath, pleasantly surprised to find you still remembered your wedding vows from that fateful day. Before, you had been terrified to seal the marriage with these divinely scripted words, reluctant to bind your life to this man before the gods. But here, in a field of soft flowers and grass, it was not spared a second thought, and you marveled at the resolution you held once those words fully sank into you.

“I shall serve you in any way you require for the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand. I pledge to you that yours will be the sole name I cry out at night.”

Naoya continued, corners of his lips fracturing softly to spill forth a grin that beheld his true happiness. “I pledge to you that yours will be the eyes into which I smile every morning, that I will give you the first bite of my meat and the first drink of my cup.”

“I pledge to you my living and dying breath, equally in your care.”

“I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine.” Those words he uttered struck you and the tears you held at bay began to break down the barrier of your lash line, streaming down your cheeks.

“I shall not slander you, nor you, me,” your cheek was his tender touch’s refuge, a tremble making its way into his voice. “I shall honor you above all others.”

“And even if we shall quarrel, we shall d-do so in private.”

“—And tell no strangers our grievances.”

“This is my wedding vow to you.” The note of certainty you held was wrapped in fractured sunlight, the glint of a single teardrop down his cheek, kissed away by the pad of your thumb.

“This is the marriage of equals,” was his last promise to you.

The air shimmered with the consecration of these vows. Slowly, he unbonded the ties that fasted both his and your hands together, the silk slipping off to slink onto his knee.

“I love you, Y/N,” he shakily exhaled. “And I will love you for all of my days and nights until I breathe my last.”

Your answering covenant was first made without words, sealing it with a kiss onto his parted lips that tasted of tears and jubilation.

“And I shall keep you and love you till the end of my days, Naoya Zen’in.”

The next morning, milky dawn greeted you and you stirred in your husband’s arms. Naoya was still fast asleep and you nudged him gently, waking him up for he had to leave the estate in an hour. Honeyed hazels gathered their lucidity, a soft smile lifting the corners of his lips. To show how much you loved waking up next to Naoya, you fluttered kisses down his nose and cheeks. Despite the time constraint, your brazen husband would’ve carved out the whole hour dedicated to worshipping your body as evident from his heated kisses, but it was disrupted by a knock on the door.

He swallowed a groan, fingertips grazing the purple marks on your neck that he was just about to retrace with his mouth when he was duly interrupted.

“Come in,” Naoya grumbled, ignoring how you bit down a giggle at his irritation.

Male servants entered the shared marital chambers with extravagant silks and tended to your husband, keeping their gaze averted from your near-nude form as you stretched and languished on the bed. They pulled together his silken kimono made of a color that could’ve rivaled the darkest blue of a sea, freshening up the last traces of sleep from his countenance with a citrus sponge bath. You called for them to leave you two so that you had the privilege of looping his obi and adjusting his hakama pants, as well as giving you a chance to peck his lips one last time before he left.

Away from the eyes of the servants, your husband got down on one knee and fluttered kisses onto your bare belly, in silent amazement at how you were the picture of a goddess this early in the morning, gazing down at him with love coruscating in your eyes. The first time Naoya had gotten down on his knees for you was met with resistance on your end–he was a man and a lord, he should not be exacting a gesture of supplication for a woman. But then, he had put his mouth on your cunt and you had almost forgotten what had incurred your consternation in the first place.

Showing that he no longer paid any mind to etiquette or rules, he teasingly kissed the top of your pelvis and close enough to the seam of your cunt, earning your muffled yelp as you took an unsteady step back. “You’ll be late,” was your playful warning and he rolled his eyes, getting back to his feet.

“I wouldn’t have to be if you bothered to put on some clothes,” he remarked, snaking one arm around your naked waist.

“And I would have bothered to put on some clothes if you could cease ripping them off,” you quipped and he chuckled. Trailing his fond gaze to your bump, he caressed it.

“Take care of mama, boys,” he bided, and to your amazement, your womb fluttered as if his babies were acknowledging his words.

“My womb just quickened,” you mused and the same sensation was back, solemnizing your reactions toward the realm of surprise. Gasping, you took both your husband’s hands and placed them over your belly, eager for him to sense what you were experiencing. There was a beat of silence and then–

“Did they just… move?”

As if your womb had a heartbeat, there was a slight murmuring of motion and you nodded gleefully. “I think they just did.”

Like the sun breaking forth from swathes of thick clouds, your husband’s smile was burning with glee and astonishment. Naoya buried a moan into your hair. “How do you expect me to leave you now when you tell me this?”

“Perhaps this is a sign you should not go,” you teased and he clicked his tongue.

“And risk your brother’s ire for the second time?” Heaving a burdened sigh, he parted from you reluctantly. “I shall find your arms the second that I am back,” he promised and you held him to that pledge.

“Go and get ready,” you said and nudged him towards the door. “I’ll dress and meet you in the foyer before all of you depart.”

He parted from your side with a lingering kiss to your temple and you called for your ladies to help you get ready.

The estate was lively with the impending departure of the two houses, servants bustling about to fill up the carriages and prepare the horses. You made your way to the front, fully dressed and with your hair up to find your husband in discussion with Gojou and Toji. In your presence, the men halted and you gave them a slight bow, one that they all returned.

“Husband, Gojou-sama, Toji-san,” you greeted them.

“This is one of the few times I have had the privilege of seeing you under the same roof, Lady Zen’in,” was Gojou’s teasing. “Word has been spreading around that Naoya-kun refuses to let you resurface from your sheets.”

If you were flustered from the double meaning behind his uncouth observations–no matter how right they were–you did not show it, adopting a generous smile. “I have been resting in bed more now since I am almost into my second season. My husband is merely accompanying me when he has completed his duties for the day.”

“Ah, ever the diplomatic one, Lady Zen’in,” the white-haired liege stated. “If it pleases you, we could have dinner together–with your husband present, of course. I would love to engage in more banter with you considering how sharp you are in comparison to the women of my fief.”

“Then you will find me rather acquiescent company, Gojou-sama,” you uttered back, flitting your gaze to your husband who was attempting to disguise how envious he was. Toji, who seemed in tune with his cousin’s moods, changed the subject to the travel routes they would take. Once the men ironed out the logistics and the last of the wedding trousseau that you had curated to be sent as one-half of the Kamo family's offerings were packaged into the back of the carriage, your husband sought you out once more.

“Do not strain yourself, alright?” he advised and you nodded, sharing with him a small smile.

“I shall rest and eat my vegetables, Naoya-sama,” you murmured, and his secret delight extended further when you used his honorifics in public. But one unorthodox happening was when he bent his face down to yours and asked, “May I have your wife’s blessing?”

Despite the simplicity of this wedding procession, you understood that tensions were still rife between him and Noritoshi. This time, unlike the time, before he departed to Takayama, you placed your hand on his and looked into his eyes. “May the roads take you to your destination and back once more into my hearth safely.”

Naoya did not care for protocol when he beamed and bent down to kiss you on the forehead. “Stay safe, my love.” You returned his smile and he bid you one last fond look before he embarked on his horse, flanked by Gojou and an unsmiling Naobito who had just returned from a diplomatic meeting in Takayama. There were rumors that the elder Zen’in had made a visit to the once-servant, Ira, but he neither confirmed nor denied speculations, tight-lipped and sneering at anyone who dared to keep eye contact with him for a second too long.

Your husband was cordial with his father, and with Gojou beside him, you had no doubt that Naobito wanted to portray familial strength by not tyrannizing his only son. The envoy soon started moving and after a few minutes, the gates shut close with a loud groan. You turned to find your ladies waiting for you, sighing softly and fixing them with a smile.

“It looks like I am going to be deprived of my husband for a few nights.”

Away from the formal ears of the servants and the estate patrons, your ladies snickered. It was the usually shy Rina who uttered, “I believe the bed springs will be grateful for a few night’s reprieves.” Her naughty jibe made you gasp, scandalized, and the rest of your ladies giggled but did not reprimand her gall.

Since Toji and Megumi were the last few remaining men in the estate, you invited them into your annex for an afternoon of card games and tea along with your ladies.

It was Toji who divulged over the second round of card games that he was the one who wrote Gojou and called for him to besiege the Kamo home. He had expected you to be grim with anger or even sullen with a distaste for his actions, but you merely bobbed your head in understanding. “It is to your quick-wittedness that has saved my husband,” you uttered softly. "I thank you for it.”

Toji sank back on the cushion he was sitting on and gave you an easy smirk. “Do not miss my meddling when Megumi and I return to Takayama.”

At the mention of him leaving, you pouted. “Are you to leave so soon?” He pointedly glanced at your swelling belly.

“Megumi and I only arrived on Naobito’s behest to shock Naoya into taking his duties seriously.” He clicked his tongue and flicked the edge of the card, a crisp thwacking sound that was unlike the sour mood that descended over the other man. “Once disrespected by a Zen’in, you are to be constantly disrespected.” He was mirthless when he shared with you his ire. “I suppose that the most I can hope for is for him to marry into a good family–more than I could’ve hoped for myself.”

Sensing that he was obviously morose, you reached forward and touched the rise of his knuckles softly with the pads of your fingers. “For what it was worth—you’ve been good company here at the estate,” you told him and gently smiled at his raised brow. “I genuinely appreciate your presence and wish to see you and your son more now that we’ve become acquainted.”

“You speak as though I am leaving this very moment,” he teased and you snorted lightly, ignoring his jab and glancing towards Megumi and Misa who were competitively trying to win this round of card games, endearing banter flitting around the wide space. Toji’s expression coruscated with fondness at the sight of his son being open with another person.

“I sincerely do not know what to do when he marries.”

“Because he would be flying the nest?” you supplied.

Toji nodded, exhaling lightly. The both of you were a little ways apart from the group and had privacy to speak without being overheard. “When he marries Toge-kun’s sister and moves into their estate, I do not know how I am to live my days.”

“Move back here,” you blurted out, earning another raised brow from him.

“And be seen as a presumed adulterer by my cousin? I would think there is a better way for me to live, Lady Zen’in.” His mirth dissolved into a deep sigh. “I suppose I will live with my mother and take over the ryokan once she passes since I am too old to be a mercenary.”

Toji’s bloody past did not faze you for you sensed he did so out of the obligation of providing for his son. From the fine lines on his face to the scowl he wore, it was not that hard to deduce that he had lived a life of austerity and hardship. It was evident that these few weeks have been a reprieve from him, but since your pregnancy was announced, Megumi was no longer considered a contender for the daimyo role. You touched the swell of your belly, inundated by the conflict that your adzukis presented without their knowledge.

“I am sorry,” you whispered and he shook his head.

“Do not feel sorry for me, Y/N,” he said good-naturedly. “It is not in your position to feel morose for me due to your blessings.”

You sighed and sank deeper into the cushions, eyeing him wistfully. “You are truly a good man, Zen’in Toji.”

A quirk of his scarred lips and the warmth of understanding that trembled between two friends; the conversation of an uncertain future ended there.

As a staunch believer of religion, Ira sensed she had incurred the gods’ wrath.

First, from her deception being unveiled in the poorest manner to her banishment at this ryokan where she was treated as little more than additional help for a stone-faced Tomoko who did not grant her acquittal of duties even if she was well into her second season. As the sister of Naobito, she had inherited his inflexible nature, treating her as befitting her lowly status.

Her duties of the day included thus waking at the crack of dawn, sweeping the floors, and helping to prepare lunch. If she was found to be idling, Tomoko would berate her and she had to force herself to stand up on swollen ankles to complete her work. This was the pinnacle of humiliation for her–where once she donned kimonos of silk as suitable for a woman carrying the next heir’s child, she was back into her unlined yukatas and simplistic hairstyles.

One day, a letter had arrived addressed to her from her parents back in the countryside and it read shortly and succinctly, the words far heavier than the syllables and consonants of that one simple sentence: You have disgraced us–do not return back home.

She had stumbled into her room, uncaring that in a few hours she was to prep shishamos for lunch, palm pressed to her mouth to stifle her quiet sobs. Emiko had warned her multiple times that this fight was unfairly tilted towards the scale of those with titles and riches. She was but a country girl who had assumed that since she was carrying a child, she was to be treated a station higher than what was assigned to her from birth. Days of scrubbing toilets, laboring over meals as her mother withered away in fits of coughing, and her father could barely tally up their expenses for the month with his meager earnings flashed in her mind’s eye.

Back in her modest home in Hakone, she was the oldest daughter of three girls, an omen of ill-luck in itself. Her family could not afford to pay dowries, and though she had been touted as one of her village’s comeliest women, that attribute did little to assuage the hardships she weathered through. Until one day, a man astride a chestnut steed found himself captivated by her.

He had arrived to the swooping shows of respect from the villagers, his presence announced a few nights before to help the sleepy community prepare for his arrival. He spoke to the village elders, inquired about supplies of grain for their sake, and spent a few nights at the ryokan. That was where he called for the alluring young woman with bright cheeks and flowing dark hair to be brought to him, and Ira remembered how she wore her best yukata for the meeting.

Upon their first conversation, he had charmed her, promised her better prospects in the city, and that she would find riches if she worked under his estate. That man was none other than Zen’in Naobito.

Naobito took her for the first time in that ryokan, and then soon after she arrived at the estate before his son found fancy in her due to the folly of his marriage, sleeping with her twice before he departed for his honeymoon, not long after his own father had bedded her. But... there were two weeks before Noaya left for his honeymoon where he did not grace her with his presence, dedicated to his efforts to impregnate his wife—a clean window of fourteen days for Naobito to take advantage of his son’s performance of duties.

The child could not be Naoya’s. Ira had done the calculations right.

If she had been anticipating Naoya’s child, she would be in a different spot than where she found herself. But seeing that Naobito already had his heir and twenty other bastards, what use did he have for the twenty-first child that he had begotten? It was in her foolish ideas and fancies that Naobito would take pity on her and give her the status of a mistress, but as it was, the older Zen’in did not even lift a finger to dissuade his son from banishing her.

All because of her folly.

Ira was now a pregnant, husband-less woman with no prospects beyond waking up day-by-day to grueling work. It would’ve been better if she had never been born. So soiled was her reputation that guests seemed to recognize her and treated her even more lowly than a barmaid, throwing their food into her face if they were displeased by it and making complaints that did not match the severity of her carelessness. Tomoko was growing impatient by the day. There was no doubt that the horrendous actions she had displayed to seize power and maintain her dynamic as Naoya’s mistress had spread across the fief. Gossip was poor for that week and her disgrace was all anyone could speak about.

That was until a clopping of hooves signaled the arrival of a nobleman and she dared lift her hopes up. Rushing to the foyer, she encountered the grizzled countenance of Naobito who disdainfully eyed her up and down. He did not speak a word to her, pushing past the sullied mistress to find his sister and discuss matters with her. Ira lingered around the foyer, risking an earful from Tomoko just to set her sights on him. She would beg for his forgiveness at her deception and pray to remind him of the care she took to ensure his pleasure. She would force him to recognize her and take her back to the estate where she would be disdained, but at least she would have a roof over her head.

Ira could not ask for more.

The meeting dragged on for close to an hour and when she was poised to give up hope, the shōji doors swung open. She did not give her liege time to contempt her further when she slid to her knees, bowing her head forward and praying with all her heart that he would accept her apology.

For a moment, neither of them spoke and she heard him sigh.

“Get up.”

There was no trace of warmth in his tone, merely neutral hauteur at the sight of a pregnant woman on her knees.

“Zen’in-sama, I am so sorry—“

“Now you deign to use my honorifics?” He lifted one thin brow and she was chastised.

Bowing her head lower, she almost sobbed out her next words. “I apologize for the loss of face that I have given you, Zen’in-sama.” Pushed to the brink by desperation, she pitched forward and grasped the hem of his yukata, a gesture of supplication that caught him off-guard. “But please, do not forsake me. I did a terrible error and–“

He swiftly cast her aside and glared at the impudence of this woman. She gasped and staggered to her haunches, staring up at him with wet eyes.

“You disgust me, Ira,” he sneered and brushed the material where her hands had grasped. “First you put on airs and deceive my son and me, then you threaten my grandchildren with that wicked ploy of yours to get my daughter to miscarry. Yet still… you have the audacity to show your face to me?” His next words carved bleeding wounds onto her already pummelled heart. “You are even more shameless than a town’s whore.”

Palms pressed to her chest, she started sobbing in earnest. “Z-Zen’in-sama, p-please, this baby is your blood and flesh—“

“I do not recognize it,” he seethed, and Ira forced herself to smother her cries, a pitiful sight on the ground. Visitors who strolled the area seemed to be drawn to his show of tense emotions and she was garnering another wave of spectators to her pathetic plight.

“B-But, you have taken me multiple times—“

“If you would have told me earlier that the child was mine instead of seeking power by being my son’s first mistress, you would’ve found yourself in a better position, Ira.” Granting this last bit of pulverizing advice, Naobito wrapped up the foolhardy of her own hubris and greed by saying, “You have brought this unto yourself, Ira—do not blame anyone else for your downfall.”

With those lingering words, he left the young woman still curled on the ground and took his leave, the onlookers snickering and expressing disbelief at how she could be this flagrant with her disrespect as to touch a daimyo without his permission. They prodded and poked at the tears on her face with spite and malice.

“I cannot believe this wench tried to deceive both the daimyo and his son.”

“She is a worse omen than a two-tongued snake.”

“Imagine the dishonor she has brought onto her family name.”

She let those words wash over her as she stood on shaky legs, wiping the snot and tears from her face. Where once she drew admiration and generosity through her beauty, she was now viewed as little more than a stain to the great Zen’in legacy, something to be washed away by harsh soap to keep the cloth as innocently white as possible.

Her mistake was because she believed the Zen’ins were capable of being humane. But, what she did not endeavor to understand was that one family did not stay in power for generations by exalting the merits of kindness and humility; they stayed in power from bloody hands and the bones of poor people like her that they stepped on to fuel their empire of deception and corruption.

The Kamos was not any different, despite how word of your kind soul echoed around the fiefs. Neither were the Gojous.

In the end, she was little more than a pawn—an entertainment piece that those who wielded power casually tossed across a board like one of their despicable card games. It was with that realization that she ambled out into the front of the ryokan, right at that ledge where you no doubt once stood, admiring the view, safe in your bubble of pretenses and lies. You who had everything she ever wanted and more now that you held your husband’s affections. You who were prim and perfect in every way that she was not—a simple woman elevated to the status of an Untouchable merely by the virtue of the puissant womb you arrived in.

Ira found she wanted to taint your view. She wanted to besmirch the white cloth–paint it red with the blood dripping from her gashing heart to put a stain so embedded and physically impossible to remove that the Zen’ins could not face their shame. She would tear them from the outside if she was not allowed in, and she would do it all with a smile on her face.

This may be her comeuppance, but it didn’t mean she had to suffer alone.

She could still show the fiefs how cruel the Zen’in family could be and how the abhorrent monster of a Kamo daughter had driven a poor, young, pregnant woman to her demise. There would be two parties to this conflict, that she knew of—one side who vouched that she was nothing more than a harlot who deserved to have her life wrenched away, and the other who took on a more altruistic view and claimed that she be shown clemency for the life that she was carrying.

If Ira were to be reincarnated as a yokai this instant, she would make sure she haunted your nightmares, make sure she roamed the halls of the Zen’in estate and become a curse so strong, no one could ignore her presence. Even in death, she would torment you. A bubble of manic laughter spilled past her lips and she took one more step towards the face of the steep hill, staring down at the stony valley that promised a swift ending to the pathetic life she had been cornered into.

Ira threw herself over the plunging lip, surrendering her life to the deathly terrain below.

Lashes of cold rain beat down on the envoy that was making its way up the hills of Shimoda, passing by the coastal towns of Atami.

Naoya remembered these routes as dearly as the lines of his own hand. Atami was where his mother called her hometown for the better half of her life before she left for Kyoto to serve the shogun’s wife. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the briny air carding through his locks, and despite the rain, he remained solemnly in good spirits for nothing could weather him down.

A truce was on the horizon, his wife was safely back home, warmed by fires and the gentle excitement of having two babies tucked safely in her womb; all three of you protected by the tall walls of the Zen’in estate and a bevy of guards he had left at the wake of his departure. But, somehow, Naoya could not shake off the persistent feeling that something felt off. For one, Gojou had pulled him aside the night before they were to depart, in the evening after he had returned home together with you from that picnic to hand him a dagger. But it was not just any dagger.

“Kamo steel,” the other liege had muttered, “Strongest steel in all of the country.”

The blade was sharp enough to pierce through layers of armored plates, and it had been a gift from Noritoshi before he departed the estate with you in tow. Your brother was adamant about not receiving you for the wedding ceremony, of the opinion that your health would be threatened from the recent stressful events. As much as the Kamo daimyo wanted to deny it, the best interests he placed for his sister were echoed fervently by her own husband.

Naoya did not wish for you to get caught up in unrest, the thought of how you threw your frail body in the line of Noritoshi’s great katana still haunting his vivid memories–all to save a husband who once committed adultery, demeaned and mistreated you. If Noritoshi had shifted the angle by even the slightest degree, the sword would’ve pierced through the delicate column of your throat. He tightened his grip on the Kuru’s reins.

Undeserving. That was what he was. He was undeserving of your kindness, of your clemency, and your unwavering love. You were far too gentle to be twined with the likes of him; you who did not have a spot of blood on your small palms but who mercifully took his sullied ones every morning without any prejudice or disgust, all while having a tender smile on your face. And now, you bore for him two heirs who would one day uphold the Zen’in name, after he had mocked, derided, and chastised you for being barren.

The tears stung in his eyes, washed away by the rivulets of rain. The other men were immersed in the grim weather and did not pay his mood mind. He preferred it this way.

I will come home to you, Y/N, was his fervent promise. I will show you a lifetime of love to make up for the sins that I committed against you.

A hand landed firmly on his shoulder and he jerked his head up. Naobito was staring at his son from astride his own chestnut steed.

“I meant to speak to you,” he said over the pouring rain. Naoya pushed the strands of his shaggy bangs out of his face and stared at his father impassively, ignoring how the rain and unshed tears were stinging his eyes. Naobito dropped his hand, thin lips twisted. “I have had word that your previous mistress has committed suicide. They found her body down the rocky ravines.”

Naoya’s furrowed brow deepened. “When did this happen?”

“Yesterday. I thought you might like to know even if it has no immediate bearing on you,” his father answered.

There was a beat of silence when he could sense his father’s roiling thoughts. The bond of blood and familiarity made it known that his father was deeply ruminating on something, and was hesitant to voice his suspicions.

“Son, I do not trust that we are safe.” Naobito was not looking at him but rather forward at the envoy of men. Naoya had been trained since birth to be wary of the dangers around him, and in that instant, he saw what was troubling his father. The clashes of green outweighed black, and in the front, swathes of purple that marked the troubling numbers should the tides turn against them.

“We have an alliance,” was his terse answer. “That was what was promised between me, Kamo Noritoshi, and Gojou Satoru.”

Naobito was quiet, but when he spoke, not even the roaring of the rain could muffle the grimness of his tone.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe it was your wife who was transpiring against you?”

What? Naoya had to swallow the displeasure that was elicited by his father’s words. “You have mistaken, Y/N, father. She would–“

“Before she is your wife, she is Kamo Noriyoshi’s daughter–the daughter of a man who once pierced half of our good men with poisoned steel-tipped arrows. They called him the Iron Liege of Tanba; that is the daughter of a tyrant we married you to.” Naoya had gone deathly quiet, his grip on his reins lax.

“Father—“

“I had heard of what you both did for the other and there is no doubt that there must be some level of… trust… between the two of you. But never forget from whence she came from. That is not just your wife, but the daughter of our sworn enemy. And it would take more than a promise of nuptials and a wall of babies to mask that fact.”

Despite Naobito’s words, there was disbelief at that notion. All this time he had seen how generous and loving you could be. From what you did for those poor orphans to how you protected those you loved, you were the epitome of peace, fairness, and mercy. Many nights he had laid next to you and not once did you ever threaten him with your father’s reputation or give him any indication that you were conspiring against his clan.

The closest he had ever come of suspecting you happened during the first fire at the sake distillery, and he had doubts of your true alliance. But that was all buried when he spent those two blissful weeks in Takayama with you and came to discover how joyous you were at carrying his babies. Those were not the actions of a dissenter or someone who had a knife poised at his back–those were the actions of a truly loving wife. Your father was a great daimyo and an even greater warrior, but you held none of his disposition. You were not ruthless or bloodthirsty, but rather, you were the inverse of everything he first considered you to be.

“All I am saying is do not trust easily. I know your character—you inherited your mother’s goodwill. But, not even her gentle demeanor should cloud your judgment, my son.”

Naoya let his father’s words lull him into an uncomfortable disquiet. He had nothing to doubt your loyalty… Did he?

The procession to the neutral Kamo lands lulled his thoughts and he found himself distracted by the pummeling rain. The flanks of the horses were covered with mud by the time they passed the border of their once-rival fiefs. In the distance, the great Kayami estate–a vassal under the Kamo’s–appeared, the bare stones and wooden stilts giving rise to an architecture that was at once simplistic and resplendent. The Kamo fiefs had seen much prosperity under Noritoshi and as a sign of their loyalty and gratitude, their closest vassal proposed to have his liege’s union under their roof.

Ushered in by their men, Naoya disembarked off Kuru, his silks weighed down by the rain and hair clinging to his forehead, far from the image of what a lord should look like. Part of the first ceremony was to meet the vassal, and the servants led the envoys of Zen’ins and Gojous straight into the great hall whose designs reminded him of your family home as if to endear them to the daimyo who was already amongst their ranks.

Kamo Noritoshi was conversing in low tones with a fat, balding man whose sagging jowls were vibrating with laughter. At his side, the delicate and almost wispy bride, Gojou Shiori. Satoru went forward first to greet his brother-in-law and Kayami Ito bent forward in a low bow for the privilege of being in the midst of the three great clans, all united under one roof as the vision of their predecessor, Oda Nobunaga, once intended.

The trousseau from your offerings was given by him and Noritoshi nodded, not exactly smiling, but not wearing that puckered frown he usually had.

“Lord Zen’in, young lord Zen’in, Lord Gojou, I trust that your journey was good,” Kayami said good-naturedly. “But the bloody rain, hmm. Was horrible, was it not, hmm?” Every hum of that buzzing hmm he vocalized made his weak jowls wobble even more.

“Kayami-san, we have traveled long and far for this opportunity to have all the great houses under one roof. Could we have a bite to eat and some sake to warm us?” Satoru inquired with a glint of humor in his cerulean blues.

Ito chuckled, exposing a row of yellowed teeth. “But of course. Food and drink and fires, hmm.” Snapping his fingers, the servants rushed forward to fill cups and plates on the available long chabudais where the men sat, travel-weary and drying from the cold and rain. Hearty miso soup, grilled seafood, and meats were served on the table and Naoya ate to his fill, catching Noritoshi’s eye across the crowd.

Imperceptibly, his brother-in-law nodded and Naoya shook his head. Not here.

Rest and respite from the long travel were next and Naoya slept well that night, his dreams filled with your smiles that he almost regretted having to wake. The sweet, earthy scent of a grill starting indicated that breakfast was nigh and he found his father in discussion with Kayami-san. The preparations for the wedding resulted in a flurry of activity and Naoya half-wondered how his own ceremony would have turned out if he had been given a chance to meet you beforehand.

Naobito’s crisp calling of his name struck out the rest of his thoughts and he ambled over to them, sitting down together with the men of the fiefs.

“So, this is the young lord Zen’in, hmm.”

Naoya nodded, inclining his head forward in a show of respect. Though their status was vastly different, the younger man was still an heir and Kayami was a vassal lord himself. A degree of respect had to be given.

“A comely young man,” he said and nodded towards Noritoshi who Naoya had just realized was there. The young daimyo looked vastly different with his hair down and unbraided in its usual fashion. “A great complement to your sister whom I heard is also one of the most beautiful women in the Kamo lands, hmm.”

“Your words are a great honor, Kayami-kun,” Noritoshi said.

“Blessings of beautiful babies,” he uttered, picking his teacup and sipping the freshly brewed matcha.

“Blessings indeed,” Naoya replied and mirrored his movements. The food in the Kayami estate was hearty but austere, the people in this domain unlike hardy survivors who had eked out a survival far away from the central towns and had to build their living from the bones of the hill where the game was scarce and fresh produce was by way of the sea located a few miles south of their border. Dissimilar from their food, the people were more approachable, Naoya considered.

The men spoke of economies, weather, and strategies for close to an hour before the celebration was supposed to begin. The day started out with Noritoshi receiving his bride and the tea ceremony with the Kamo and Gojou vassals, the exchanging of gifts coming later.

Tomorrow, the lords would dine with their vassals in an honorable celebration of the last wedding rites. In the afternoon, the men went out hunting where the young lords made a game of who could rack up more pheasants and chickens than the others. Competitive as he was, Naoya could not refuse their offer of a bet wherein the loser would have to wait for three rounds before he could start drinking the wedding sake.

Naoya came in second after Satoru, the firm loser being his brother-in-law who bore the “shame” with light-heartedness much to the cajoles of his men. “Much rather not be drunk for the wedding night, if I am honest,” he had shared and Satoru roared with laughter, almost knocking Noaya’s sake cup down to the floor.

Irate, Noritoshi raised his brow towards Satoru. “And when will you be tying the knot, Satoru-kun?”

Though he extolled the virtues of not drinking alcohol, Satoru could not help but indulge after his easy win. Grinning at his words, Gojou sang, “Never~”

Naoya scoffed and had to stop himself from mentioning how he had heard moans and heavy breathing coming from Satoru’s chamber back when he was a guest at the Zen’in estate. If any of his staff found themselves with child, he would know who the unlucky victim of this rake would be.

“Do not tell me—he had worked his way through the ranks of your servant girls, Naoya-kun?” Noritoshi inquired and Naoya almost felt bad for how he would betray Satoru’s trust, said white-haired man’s expression twisting into a moue of mock displeasure.

“He has.”

Noritoshi snorted and seemed about to elbow the other man whose pout had turned exaggerated. “You dirty scoundrel. At least Naoya-kun and I are legally bound to these poor women.”

Satoru grumbled under his breath and knocked back another cup of sake. “Fine. Use me as the butt to your jokes all you want–I shall seek better pastures to accompany.”

“Like Kayami-san?” Naoya suggested it innocently. Despite the older man being Noritoshi’s vassal, the other man snorted.

“If you want to be regaled with old war stories, then be my guest, Satoru-kun.”

Despite their burgeoning responsibilities of the fiefs on their shoulders, the three men joked and drank to their merry heart’s content before Noritoshi had to be called into his groom’s chambers to change into his ceremonial robes. Leaving Naoya with Satoru, the now loose-lipped man slurred, “Do you still have the steel knife I gave you?”

The blade was strapped to his chest, the handle digging into his pecs and he nodded. “Why did you pass me that knife, Satoru-kun?”

“It will be important,” he replied and the other man hid a frown. What were Noritoshi and Satoru planning?

“After all,” the white-haired lord continued, blue eyes twinkling over his cup, “Ask and you shall receive, Naoya-kun.” He recalled how Noritoshi had asked him a vague question on the day he was to depart from the Kamo estate. Naoya, are you prepared to rule the Zen’ins?

Before he could even wrap his mind around the implications of his brother-in-law’s words, there was a loud crash that made the two men flinch.

“How dare you?!”

Recognizing the sounds of a brawl about to begin, Naoya and Satoru lurched from the seats and staggered as soberly as they could to the main halls where Kayami and Naobito were glaring at each other.

“Say that again to me, Zen’in scum!” Naoya rushed to his father and grabbed his shoulders while Satoru did the same for Kayami, the stouter man thrashing in the six-foot-three man’s hold like a rabid dog about to tear the leg of a provoker.

“How dare you sully Noriyoshi’s daughter that way!”

At the mention of his wife, Naoya’s grip faltered and Naobito leveraged on his show of weakness, surging forward. “That Kamo bitch deserved it after the little stunt your men pulled.”

A yelp and Naoya was horrified to find blood trickling down from Gojou’s nose where Kayami had lurched his head back to slam into Satoru’s face, a clear tactic to force the other man to release him. Gojou reached up to touch the swelling tissue that was bleeding down his pale chin and Naoya was left alone to hold back his father. A few men rushed forward to restrain Kayami before he could descend on Naobito, and he growled and glowered, snapping his teeth, his jowls trembling with every curse of Naobito’s name.

“Father, enough!” Naoya gritted out, but it was only when Noritoshi’s piercing voice rang out through the room did the men halt their scuffle.

“What is the meaning of this?” The Kamo liege inquired, trailing his gaze over the blood on Satoru’s cheeks, the pale expression Naoya sported and the exerted red-face of Kayami. “Explain. Now.”

Thrusting one fat finger in Noabito’s direction, Kayami’s comportment was unlike that of a dog growling in a warning. “He started goading me on Y/N-san and how she deserved to be humiliated in front of his men–he even said she should’ve been stripped in Lady Sayuri’s place.”

Naoya dropped his hold around his father’s arms, appalled at what he heard.

“Is this true, Zen’in-sama?” Noritoshi’s tone belied his impassive stance. Even if he was a brother with an overprotective streak, he was a lord before that and had to remain impartial to everyone’s reasoning.

“I merely said that after the stunt your men pulled, that I should’ve done worse than costing Lady Sayuri her face in the court.”

Before the men could get heated, Naoya stepped in and bowed his head low. “Kamo-sama, Kayami-san, I apologize for my father’s words. He must have had too much to drink and we will keep him away from the alcohol–this peace all of us garnered is far too precious to waste on drunken remarks.”

Noabito scoffed, but Kayami appeared to be reticent with his apology and pushed the other men off him. “Do not touch me.” He leveled Naobito with one frosty glare and stalked away, limping from his one lame leg. The other men murmured and dispersed under the watchful glare of Noritoshi and Naoya shot him an apologetic look, grabbing his father by the shoulder and all but dragging the older man into their chambers.

The door slammed shut but before Naoya could get a word in, a loud slap landed on his cheek, accompanied by a blow to his sternum.

Exhaling wheezily, he rushed to straighten but was dealt with another strike to his face, this last one leaving a subtle ringing in his ears.

“Stupid, impudent boy!” Naobito snarled, ignoring the look of pure aghast that Naoya wore. “Why did you apologize to those Kamo bastards? You might as well have lifted your robes and spread your cheeks for them while you were–“

“We were outnumbered,” Naoya spat, rubbing his cheek that was prickling as if bitten by fire ants. “Did you want them to slaughter us right where we stood? Was that your goal?”

Rather than thanking his only son for preserving their lives in a dangerous hearth, Naobito shot him a withering glare and pried the door wide, sliding it shut with a jarring thud that had the wooden frame trembling. Naoya exhaled the breath he did not sense he was holding, the smarting on his cheek transforming into a dull throb that had him gritting his teeth. If his skin were to bruise, the best he could hope for was the injury to not show up starkly purple on his face the next day.

As if drawn to the windows, he trailed his gaze to the hills in the distance where he could envision you doing the same—waiting for him, yearning once more to see him, and felt a strong pang in his heart.

Naoya, are you prepared to rule the Zen’ins?

He believed he knew the answer to that.

The drums pounded like the jagged beating of his heart, the lutes twanging and koto strings not half as well-tuned as the ones he was used to. The music–if it could even be called that—was making his stomach lurch. Whether it was the slight that was dealt by his father or the words he had uttered, the Kamos had cornered them by the wall, furthest away from the exit where the smoke, loud music, and raucous laughter had no option but to rebound back to them.

Paltry dishes that were set before them did little to assuage the nausea he felt, and all he did was pick at his food, a bowl of boiled chicken and wild mushrooms sitting untouched before him. Naoya had been relegated to the corner next to his father who was seated adjacent to Gojou Satoru. Sober from almost breaking his nose, Satoru did not drink, not wanting to dampen his responses in case another brawl would surface. Blending in with the side of the walls, samurais of different armored hues stood to protect their lieges. You cannot tell one color from the other, Naoya thought.

His father was in his cups, drunkenly making lewd jokes on all the servants, ribbing Gojou Satoru and once reaching out for a servant girl to brush his hand on her thigh. Naoya wanted to chastise him for his foolish behavior, but the steady soreness of his cheeks refrained him from doing so. If he wants to make a fool of himself, then so be it.

Unlike his father, Naoya preferred to keep to himself, sharp eyes on the lookout for the slightest hint of danger. The dagger felt heavy against his chest and the weight of what he had to do tonight hung over him like a dark cloud. For it was Noritoshi who pulled him aside before the wedding banquet started.

“You once told me you wanted to depose your father,” the young lord had stated. “Is that what you are planning to commence?”

Am I ready to kill my own father?

The old man would never suspect it. He would figure out that it was just a senseless brawl. In the commotion, no one would suspect Naoya plunging the knife into his father’s back—both literally and figuratively. The young lord-to-be was sickened by the constant conflict. Despite bartering for a Kamo daughter’s hand in marriage, Naobito still harbored dangerous prejudice and refused to allow any give to this conflict that had resulted in months of tension and the inability to foster ties with the young Kamo head.

Naobito was a strong and proud man who did not waver when it came to his clan’s ties, which inadvertently strained his son’s marriage to the same daughter of that rival clan, jeopardizing his only son’s efforts to remedy both his marriage and alliance with the Kamo family. This afternoon’s affairs solidified how deep-seated his father’s anger toward his wife’s relatives was, and he had to make a choice–stick with the destructive potential this prejudice could incur? Or, chart his own path of peace without his father’s outdated rule?

The answer was clear.

Noritoshi was chastely holding his wife’s hand, bringing it to his lips to plant kisses on the back of it whenever he suspected no one was looking. The room was packed and swelteringly hot despite the rain falling outside, and even on the elevated dais, lords would brush their elbows into the sides of the men next to them if they so much as lifted their glasses of sake to drink from.

Doom, doom, doom. The drums would not stop pounding. The stringing lutes and flutes grew to a cacophony, the wedding guests drunk and singing along to familiar tunes such as the Old Cherry Blossom Tree, but with the way how Kayami-san was spewing out bawdy lyric after bawdy lyric, it much befitted another classic titled the Shogun’s Nubile Concubine.

“Father, you almost spilled your drink,” he scolded and Naobito glared at his only son. He was saved from having his head clipped when Gojou Satoru inquired about the difference between regular blends and the Zen’in sake to which the old man roared, “Everything! All of you would have been drinking piss water if it were not for our generosity!”

There was a crash in the distance and one of the Gojou vassals hiccupped, standing shakily to his feet, mumbling apologies while a Zen’in samurai crinkled his expression in disgust. This was why a wedding ceremony was not allowed for Naoya; he could only imagine the brawls the Zen’ins and Kamos would be embroiled in if mounting tensions met the enhancing effects of alcohol. Another drunken man was pissing in the corner of the great hall, the unruliness of this whole scene foreign to Naoya who had been raised to always keep his wits even if he was drunk.

“Are you not hungry, Naoya-kun?” Satoru was peering at him with those winter blue eyes and he forced a half-hearted shrug.

“I am not in the mood for festivities.”

The string of the lute twanged and a familiar tune was struck up, Kayami-san gleefully clapping his hands and singing the first part of the Wicked Geisha. The man had a nice voice if he were to sing the true lyrics which were the furthest from the salacious hummings of a geisha who ran away to be with her lover.

“Is it time for the bedding?” one of his Zen’in cousins yelled and the whole halls surged with cheers.

“Bed her! Bed her! Bed her!”

Naoya winced and did not join the men in their chants to expedite the ceremony to the best part; the ceremonial bedding of the bride and groom. Noritoshi’s cheeks had gone red from the combination of drink and nerves, but he did not rebuke his men and vassals for their fun. Naoya supposes that in this instance, it was a good thing he did not have a bedding ceremony at his own wedding. He could barely imagine the horrors the onlookers would be subjected to if they heard your cries and how he had brutalized you on a night where he was supposed to be tenderly ensuring his new wife’s comfort. I still hate myself for what I did, Y/N.

“Bed her! Bed her!”

The music had changed, and he heard Jinichi groan at the tune. “I hate this song!” For it was a song that was vastly unpopular in their fiefs, a song about the Black armor of his house, made in jest for the Zen’ins and their inclinations towards alcoholic addiction.

The Black Lord spills his fourth cup of the day and mistakes his wife for the enemy. Naobito stood swaying on his feet, the cajoling of the men reaching its fever pitch, and some of them had reached out to grab Shiori Gojou by her waist, lifting her into the air where the poor girl squeaked in fear, her curtain of white hair obscuring her terror. If her half-brother had anything to say, he did not, for Naoya sensed from how little Satoru was engaging in this ceremony that he did not have any attachment to his sister that was the product of his father and a concubine.

Naoya supposes that he would react the same way. After all, unless one was purely his blood, he would not care as to what would transpire to them.

Something stirred in the young lord-to-be when he saw Ogi Zen’in whisper to one of the Kamo lords who snarled at him, “I will not pour you a drink, you Zen’in scum!”

What is happening? The drums continued on their shattering pounding and the lutes were all but frenzied screams of harpies. Jinichi went to see what the commotion was all about and was surrounded by three more of the Kamo vassals all of whom tried to subdue their drunken friend who was spewing hate towards the other man of a great clan.

And the lord found himself friendless and betrayed. Naobito frowned. “Why the hell are they playing this blasted song? It is unbecoming and an offense to us!”

Naoya noticed Noritoshi slipping into a corner and stood to follow him, the uneasiness in his soul allowing for second thoughts to creep back into his indecisive stance. The plan was to cause a brawl between one of the Zen’ins and Kamos and then stab his father. That was to the extent this madness would go… right?

But when he caught up to the other man and reached for his sleeve, he felt the hard armor underneath it. Noritoshi’s dark eyes were unfathomable, and the first scream of the night reverberated from the hall, drowned by the booming drums that reached ear-splitting decibels. Naoya looked up to find arrows flying, raining down onto the Zen’in envoy, every Gojou and Kamo vassal drawing their swords on the unsuspecting clan.

Piercing screams filled the halls. Tables were overturned, bottles went flying. His cousin roared and picked up a flask of sake to slam it onto Satoru’s head, but a quarrel entered his mouth and exited his throat.

“Kamo-kun,” Naoya snarled, unsheathing his knife, the horror coating his voice. “This was not what we agreed on!”

Noritoshi removed his own knife and glared at Naoya. “I told you we would depose your father… but I did not say how.”

Naoya surged towards him, slashing and sinking his knife into the other man’s hand, the sharp blade glinting with blood from the snatches of light the oil lamps offered. From the corner of his eye, Ogi stood and ran to the doors, gripping the handles but it would not budge. Naoya feinted and avoided Noritoshi’s strike towards his chest.

An arrow arced, sinking into Ogi’s head, the dull thud of his body falling to the ground lost in the commotion.

Naobito had taken a samurai’s katana and was fending off three Kamo men at once, still light-footed despite his inebriation.

“These are all my men,” Naoya blared loudly over the cresting music. “These are my uncles and cousins!”

Noritoshi swiped at him, nicking his cheek, and parried with a swift kick to his shin. “If you want to join them, be my guest!”

“Enough,” the young Zen’in lord begged even as his knife went into his brother-in-law’s shoulder, the younger man cussing in pain. “It was meant for my father and only him–“

“Did you think I would stop there?” Noritoshi snarled, and his knife went into Naoya’s shin, a howl of pain slipping past his lips. “Did you believe that I would not stop until only you were left? Your whole family tree is rotten; I am just doing you a favor in cutting its decomposed branches off.”

Men screamed, clashes of metal on metal and the scent of blood rushed into his nose. Gods forgive me for the sins I am to commit against my own family. Naoya dropped the knife and raised his arms in surrender. “Do not kill me, please. I still have my babies and wife to return home to.”

Noritoshi was panting, pained from the stab in his shoulder. The shallow wound in Naoya’s shin was starting to sting. “Do you swear to keep this fealty with me? Do you swear?”

“I swear,” was his fervent response. “I swear to reform it under a new rule with peace in mind.”

The Kamo liege dropped his knife as well, nodding sharply. “Then do what you must.”

Naoya swallowed, but before he could bend and pick up his own weapon, strong hands grabbed him and pinned him to the ground, a harsh grip on his hair tugging it back to expose his neck.

“Kayami—no!”

The cold steel was against his throat. So, this is how I am to meet my demise.

“Kayami, he is on our side!”

But the lord was incensed and would not listen to reason. “I do not care!”

A bubble of manic laughter slipped past his lips at how quickly a man’s loyalties could shift. Mad, he thought. I have gone mad.

Kayami did not heed if he was losing his wits, the unrestrained anger making him stone to Noritoshi’s attempts to tear him away from Naoya, the stout man disregarding his lord’s wishes in favor of quenching his anger.

No, please, not me, he thought. I haven’t even seen my babies yet–my wife, she waits for me.

The knife pierced through his skin. “This is for Kamo Kechizu, you Zeni’in scum.”

A scream of his name echeod across the bloody halls.

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy and repost

[seiyasabi]

Could I have yandere la squadra with a single mom who were left by cheater husband, she is gave birth not too long and live alone without anyone. He worried that her and babies are not safe, they are weak, fail, could break easily, even can't defense themselves.

He kept eyes on her and make sure that she was safe until she gave birth, and making sure that cheater won't comes near her and babies ever again.

Sure :)) I haven't done La Squadra for a min

Yan La Squadra x Pregnant Reader w Cheater ex S/O HCs:

Risotto:

-Probably meets u before ur even pregnant

-He likes how nice you are to him, even tho he looks scary as hell

-So, when you end up sitting on a park bench, crying your eyes out, he's there to comfort you

-He'll bring you to his apartment, keeping a strong arm around you as you sob into his side

-He is a little upset that you're pregnant by somebody else, but it makes sense that it was ur husband who got you pregnant

-Even tho he's calm on the outside... he's fuming

-How dare that scum cheat on you and then leave you? Doesn't he know how much of a catch u are?

-Swears to provide for you and your babies, and he does

-Will go to all of your appointments w u, scaring the crap out of the medical professionals

-Will also make that ex and his mistress disappear- neither deserve to live after what they did to you

-He's so protective over u, not allowing u to do anything outside of the house or anything too labor intensive

-Once u give birth, he can't help but dote on the two of you, even though he's stony faced the entire time

Prosciutto:

-You were a waitress at a fancy restaurant he normally attended

-You were always the nicest and well trained of the wait staff, leading to him requesting you every time he came to the restaurant

-You two quickly became friends, so when you broke the news that you were pregnant, he was happy but upset

-But, he still supported you and your happiness... until your husband publicly humiliated you

-Apparently, the man didn't even know what restaurant you worked at, leading him to bring his mistress to your work place, where you were currently serving one of your closest friends

-You broke down into tears, hand cradling your medium sized bump, as the man you loved nonchalantly claimed you were a one night stand to his mistress, explaining away you and your pregnancy

-Prosciutto and the other wait staff quickly stepped in, the blond man kindly taking you back to his home, and doting on you almost immediately

-He has you quit your job, allowing him to keep you safe inside and close to him (on his off days)

-Won't hesitate to take on the father role, vowing to love anything that came from you

-Is a good ass dad and new hubby tbh, bc he will do literally everything for u

Melone:

-Notices you when you're pregnant

-You're about 6 months along, tummy very prominent

-He'd met you at your job during one of your shifts, and you'd become fast friends

-He visits your coffee house almost every day after that

-So, he's there when your husband's mistress comes in, throwing hot coffee in your face, and calling you a whore for 'stealing her man,' even though it's the other way around

-One of the other men in the coffee shop wrestles the woman to the floor, allowing Melone to rush to your side, pressing wet compresses to your lightly burned face

-This entire event sends you into an early birth, and Melone is with you every step of the way

-He's there during the birth, allowing you to squeeze him as hard as you need to

-Once you're finished, you allow him to cradle you to his chest, falling asleep as ur babe goes off to the NICU

-He'll act as a stand in father, slowly winning over you and your child's heart

-Once ur good and dandy, he'll get a sample and see if ur compatible w Baby Face :P

Formaggio:

-You gave him a meal on the street bc u thought he was homeless lmao

-It was sweet, and ur pretty, so he didn't mind

-But when he found out u had a husband? Damn

-And when he found out ur a near future milf? DAMN!

-He doesn't care, he ups his game, but it doesn't really work lmao

-But, once he sees that ur husband is a cheater? All bets are off the table

-He took photo after photo of them, before confronting them

-Ur pussy husband tries to bitch out, but Formaggio doesn't hold back, publicly humiliating him, before dragging him and the mistress to ur house and forcing them to admit what they did wrong

-U want to try to fix it, but ur husband is like no<3, leading him to kick u out of the house bc ur bestie beat the dog shit out of him

-But don't worry, Formaggio deep cleaned his apartment before u came over, and his cats love u the moment they meet u

-When ur baby is born, Formaggio doesn't necessarily know what to do, but he tries his best

-The cats love snoozing w the babe, always keeping them warm and alerting u when ur babe needs u

-Formaggio is totally the type to wear a baby carrier and claim them as his own

Illuso:

-Notices u when ur out shopping

-U look so self conscious as u try on maternity clothes, and ur husband is being a nasty asshole

-When ur hubby wanders away to take a phone call from his mistress, Illuso slips in, helping u find clothes that suit u and make u feel confident

-He did this at first to boost his own ego, but he can't help but like you

-U became fast friends, and on the day of ur birth, he's one of the people in the delivery room, taking the place of ur absent husband

-Ur husband missed the birth of ur child bc he was with his mistress, which u found out later during an argument

-U were completely torn up, but Illuso didn't allow u to fall into a postpartum depression

-He swallowed his pride for a minute, allowing him to dote on u in the way u deserved

-He at first was v distant from the babe, but over the first year, he couldn't help but view them as his own

-NGL, he tortured and killed ur ex in his mirror realm, all whilst u and the babe napped one day

Pesci (TW mentions of suicidal mindset)

-Nice boy is nice

-He notices u when ur sitting on the ledge of a bridge he walks on

-U just looked so ethereal, he couldn't help but approach u

-He was so concerned the moment he realised u were crying and heavily pregnant

-When he asked what was wrong, u explained that ur husband left u for his mistress, leaving u heavily pregnant without a home

-U wanted to end it all before u brought a baby into a homeless world

-It broke Pesci's heart, causing him to offer u a place to stay

-He knows that Prosciutto will be mad at him, but he can't help but help u

-After this, the two of you were inseparable

-He doted on you like crazy, trying to convince u that it was ok if u quit ur job, he'd take care of u until ur mentally ready

-U don't take off, but u appreciate him enough that you make him yummy goods

-He falls in love so fast, and he already knows that he'll love ur baby like his own

-When u give birth, he's panicking, but he stays dutifully by ur side

-Will ALWAYS take care of the baby, going so far to force u back into bed when the baby wakes up in the middle of the night

-Literally is the best one, 10/10

Ghiaccio:

-Watches the breakdown happen w his own two eyes

-You'd told ur hubby that u were pregnant at a gelato place, a cute announcement in a sweet treat

-But, he didn't react well

-He straight up yelled at u, telling u that u need to get rid of the baby bc u don't deserve to pass on his genes, and that his mistress is better than u

-It was a wild ride, and Ghiaccio refused to continue to watch it happen

-He stood up for you, practically strangling ur ex with his bare hands

-Ur husband was shamed out of the establishment, leaving a wilted you on a hard chair, gelato melting into a pitiful lump

-Ghiaccio isn't good at comforting others, but he tries to make u feel better by buying u a new gelato

-From that day on, u two became friends

-He doesn't really dote on you, but he is a comforting presence

-He is there when u give birth, and he thinks ur child is so wonderful

-Will step up immediately, practically forcing his way into ur child's life, and he is v reliable

-He's a consistent presence, and u welcome him w open arms

Sorbet and Gelato:

-It's unknown how u came upon their radar

-All u know is that they one day appeared lmao

-Ur husband dislikes them bc they always vouch for what's good for u- pointing out how he's always missing

-They find out he's cheating almost right away, allowing them to gather evidence against him

-But then.... you fall pregnant

-They don't know if it's right to tell u, but they do anyways

-They comfort u the entire time, as u wait for him to come home

-He ends up coming home w the mistress, not expecting u and ur homies to be there

-It's a shit show

-Sorbet and Gelato don't hesitate to kill them

-You're in shock, not expecting such a reaction, allowing them to drag u away

-Ur a house spouse for them after that, neither allowing u out bc they're so paranoid ab the boss

-Will only allow u to see approved doctors, and when u give birth, u do so in the bathtub lmao

-Ur pissed, but the birth was p smooth sailing

-After that, it's like y'all were together for all of ur lives

-They pretend that they're the birth fathers, never allowing u to even think ab ur ex

-They're the scariest two on here, bc they simply don't care, they'll just yoink u away the moment they're able to

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

[dreamescapeswriting]

Underground ~ JJK [M] [Request]

➳➳➳Word count: 2.9K

➳➳➳Pairing: King!Jungkook x Concubine!Reader

➳➳➳Genre: Floffy, angst (tiny bit) and SMUT

➳➳➳A/n: Hope this is okay for you my love

➳➳➳Concubine meaning:  a woman who lives with a man but has lower status than his wife or wives (also known as a mistress)

People didn't like the fact that you were what you were to the King, you could tell by the looks on their face as you walked around the streets of the Kingdom of Zenith, but it was normal for many King's to have Concubines, while other King's had multiple Concubine's but King Jungkook had just the one and that was you. That was his choice though he didn't want many women he just wanted you and his soon-to-be wife.

"Do you see the way she walks? As if she’s better than us," Someone asked as you walked past their stall, you were used to the whispers by now but it didn't make it any easier, hearing the rumours about you.

"What is she even doing here?" Another voice rang out a little louder than the first, you kept your head down as you walked over towards your old home to visit your mum. Not that she ever spoke to you, she was ashamed of what you had become but it didn't stop you going to visit her every weekend. 

"Hi Umma," You greeted as you walked into the Hanok that you used to live in, she looked up from her breakfast took once glance at you before going back to her meal. This was the normal exchange you would have with her, 

"She'll come around," Your sister whispered but it wasn't true, she wouldn't. 

"I brought fresh strawberries from the farm." You placed the basket down and your sister watched you with a close eye as you reached out for them and began eating one of the strawberries with a small smile on your face, sighing to yourself as you watched your mum eating her breakfast, once you felt your sister's close stare you stared back at her and she smirked to herself. 

"Come with me," You followed her out of the Hanok with a strawberry hanging out of your mouth, out into the garden where she walked you over to the swing on your tree, somewhere you would go a lot to talk to one another a lot as children.

"How long?" You frowned at her and she sighed sitting in front of the swing and staring up at you, there was no denying it she watched as you swallowed the strawberry you had been munching on. You didn't even know, did you? 

"The smile of content, sighing because you're happy and that natural flush." She squealed happily and you had no idea what she was doing, 

"We have to take you to Halmeoni," She was excited about something so you nodded along with it, you hadn't seen her this happy in months and it felt nice to watch her smile. 

"Take me then," 

You beyond thrilled and couldn't wait to get back to the castle to tell Jungkook the good news, it was hard to determine at first but once your Grandmother did all the tricks she knew it became clearer and clearer with every second, you were pregnant and carrying a set of twins.

"You're sure?" You asked as your grandmother held a pin on a string above your stomach, she closed her eyes and began chanting away to herself when the Pin began to move on its own, a clear sign of pregnancy. Then she went out to fetch eggs from one chicken, bringing back two eggs which meant twins. It was an old technique she'd used when your mother was pregnant with you and your sisters and it was foolproof. 

The guards watched as you walked in the direction of the throne room ready to tell Jungkook the news when you heard yelling coming from inside the great hall. Your interest was piqued so you walked closer to the door and listened in to the conversation if you were anybody else this action would but punishable by death.

"I want to proceed with the wedding," You heard Jungkook say to his father across the room, Jungkook had been lined up to marry a Princess from another Kingdom to expand the Kingdom of Zenith and bring more protection for it and you knew this of course, but you'd never thought Jungkook would go through with the wedding. He was always telling you about how much he didn't want to marry someone that wasn't you, that it felt morally wrong to marry anyone else but you. You held your hand over your stomach trying not to think about it too much, stressing was bad for pregnancies you knew that much. 

"How soon shall we have it?" You heard his father question, the next question made your heart sink as Jungkook answered him with full excitement and you could tell he had a smile across his face. 

"Next weekend." You slowly backed away from the door not wanting to hear anymore and took off in a sprint towards your chambers. 

You had special chambers since you were the King's concubine, it meant your own giant bed, being served by maids in the castle and other staff at your beck and call. 

"Miss?!" You slammed the door before your personal made could question why you were crying, it felt harsh to treat her this way but you couldn't risk anyone seeing you cry over the King. It just simply wasn't done. 

"Miss, King Jungkook wanted us to tell you he wishes to see you right away. He knows the weekends are for your family-"

"Tell him I'm still out," You spat out rushing into the bathroom and staring at yourself in the mirror, you looked down at the expensive gown you were wearing, then at the jewellery which was custom made for you and you tore them from around your neck and ears. Throwing them into the golden bathtub before screaming about not being able to take off the dress. The same maid from before rushed into the room with her ladies in training, 

"Leave us." She clapped her hands and the two minions left the room, standing in front of the giant chamber doors to stop anyone else from entering. You were sobbing into your hands while the maid quietly undid your corset, not daring to speak a word to you as she knew it was against the rules, 

"Thank you, Cruella," You sniffled and she handed you a handkerchief turning you around to face her,

"The king isn't worth those tears." She whispered wiping your face and looking at you, she'd always been the nicest one in the castle to you and you always assumed it was because it was her job but no one else made this kind of effort. 

"He's marrying her," She sighed and stripped you from the gown throwing it into the bathtub as you had done with the rest of the items he'd gotten you, 

"You knew it would be coming through." She ushered you into your room and retrieved you another ball gown which you shook your head at. 

"Can you fetch me some rags instead, and a bag." 

Cruella had watched you the entire time you packed up old clothes into a bag, leaving no note or clue as to where you were going but leaving out of the palace in the middle of the night with her. Dressed as one of the other many chambermaids, 

"What do I do when he asks for you tomorrow?" She asked once you reached the ends of the palace gardens, your heart was breaking at the thought of leaving him behind but it broke more when you thought of him marrying another. 

"Tell him I'm sick, it'll keep him away a couple of days until I have enough time to get out of the kingdom." You told her as you looked around nervously,

"You're pregnant are you?" She questioned taking in your appearance under the moonlight, you stayed silent and she made a promise to keep your secret. 

To her avail, she had managed to keep it for as long as she could but a week had passed and Jungkook had had enough of not seeing you. He barged into your room expecting to find you sitting in bed with a book but when he found nothing he was concerned, Cruella spilt her guts once he threatened her job and he instantly began setting up a manhunt to find you and his unborn children. The kingdom was searched multiple times a day and your home was ransacked in order to find you, but you were nowhere to be found. Rumours spread like wildfire about you fleeing to another Kingdom because the baby belonged to another King while other rumours started you were still in the castle but underground not wanting to be found by the king. None of them was true, of course, except for the underground part. You were underground but not under the castle, you were under your mothers old Hanok being looked after by her whenever the searches were completed. The king's guards were idiots and never thought to check an old well with a fake bottom which led to you. 

"Umma, I have to leave soon." The night you left the castle you'd gone home to say goodbye to everyone but your mother insisted on keeping you in the hidden room below the surface until searches were called, she promised it would be easy. 

"No, you're not leaving. You're with child, it's too dangerous to leave now." There was always going to be an excuse for her as to why you couldn't leave and you knew that, after the years of her not talking to you it felt nice that she was willing to put her life on the line to protect you and the babies growing inside of you. There were footsteps above the ground and she frowned, the searches had already been completed that day, 

"Wait here. Stay silent." She walked off down a hallway and to where the ladder led to getting in and out of the well you were underneath, the lid was lifted from the top and there stood three guards and Jungkook looking down at her.

"We're coming down." You sat up straight as you heard his voice through the echo's and you knew what your mother had done, 

"Umma!" You yelled getting her attention, she nodded at you and motioned for Jungkook to follow her into the room where you had been laying down. 

"Umma what are you-" Jungkook was standing in front of you dressed in his robes and smiling, the same way he looked when he picked you out before. 

"OUT!" Your mother screamed at the guards that had tried to come into the room, Jungkook flinched a little as she raised her hand to point at the seat. 

"You! Sit!" He sat down instantly and stared at you as you sat down on an opposite seat from him, 

"She's with child, what do you plan to do?" You stared at your mother as she told him the news which he already knew but you didn't know that, 

"I plan to marry her," Your eyes snapped back to him and they began to have a conversation about marriage as though you weren't in the room your head dancing from one to the other as they continued to have the discussion as though it didn't involve you in any way. 

"Excuse me- Yeah, Hi. What?" Jungkook's eyes were staring into yours as he smiled, how could he smile at you like that when less than a week ago he was planning on marrying someone else. 

"I'll marry you." You blinked at him as though he was crazy, which he was. No one married a commoner, or their concubine it just wasn't done.

"You can't-"

"I'm King, I can marry whoever I please." You looked at the floor as he raised his voice a little, 

"That was the plan before you left, running out before you knew the information." He tutted at you, your head lifted from the floor as you made eye contact with him, he had a cocky smirk across his face as he watched you try and piece together what he was saying. 

"Marry me? But you're supposed to-"

"I'm not supposed to do anything, I'm the King." You nodded at him and he got down onto one knee in front of you, 

"This isn't the way I had this planned but will you Y/n Y/l/n marry me?" Your eyes teared up as you watched him pull out a ring from one of his robe pockets and you nodded falling down onto the floor and hugging him. Your mother crying in the process and smiling at you, as much as she'd disliked you for what you had become in the Kingdom she knew real love when she saw it, and she wasn't going to let her daughter and grandchild grow up without a father figure. 

                                                  One Year Later

The kids were sound asleep for the first time in many months, they normally cried for hours on end only sleeping an hour but tonight was easy. Their first birthday had come around and they were sleeping as though they had grown out of the habit of not sleeping,

"Jungkook, shh." You said as he stepped closer to you you were sitting on the small balcony of your room looking out over the kingdom and the babies were asleep in solid gold cribs across the room in your chambers.

"Shh yourself, I've missed you." He growled rushing over to you and pulled you into a loving kiss since the babies had been born you hadn't been together intimately and it was starting to get to you both,

"You're so gorgeous." He mumbled putting his head into the crook of your neck and sucking along the skin, you held back the moan as you looked over your shoulder guards were in the courtyard below. 

"J-Jungkook guards." You warned only making him suck along the skin harder, 

"Let them watch, I want them to know how good I make you feel. Fuck it's been so long." He groaned kissing you once again, your hands reached into his black locks and you kissed him. 

"Be quiet now baby." He dropped down onto his knees and lifted the base of your dress up and over his head, you felt him pulling your panties to the side and your breath hitched as you felt his breath against your throbbing core. It had been so long since he last touched you you'd almost forgotten what it was like. His tongue ran along the length of your sex and you let out a strangled moan into your own hand, 

"What if we wake- ah shit." You moaned out throwing your head back in ecstasy as he continued to suck harder on your clit, flicking faster and inserting two fingers inside of you. 

"So tight," He hummed against you only making you clench around him as you already felt yourself beginning to get close.

"R-Right there- but what about-" He cut you off by pumping his fingers faster and curling them in just the right motion that made your legs shake, he could tell you were getting closer but he didn't want you to cum around his fingers. 

"This way." He pulled you towards the bed and laid you down, neither of you had time to strip out of your clothes in case the babies woke up so he lifted the dress up to your midsection and took his member out from his pants.

"You ready baby?" You nodded eagerly and you gasped as you felt him enter you, the stretch after not having him for so long was painful but you could deal with it. 

"Fuck." You moaned into your hand trying to be as quiet as possible, Jungkook groaned out as he tried to thrust in and out at a slow pace but the tightness was only making him want to ram into you, have you screaming out his name as the old times. 

"We'll have time for that another day-" You mumbled knowing exactly what he was thinking just by the look on his face, he focussed on trying to get you close with slow thrusts trying to push down the feeling of his own release approaching him rather quickly.

"Jungkook." He bent down to bring you into a lustful kiss, trying to keep you silent and his thrusts began to pick up pace as he felt you clenching around him, hitting your g-spot every time he had you moaning out into his mouth,

"G-Gonna cum." You whined out in a whisper trying to be as quiet as possible but you could feel the band tightening in your stomach and the sound of him moaning in your ear was only bringing you closer.

"Cum for me then," He growled in your ear picking up the pace and smirking down at you, 

"S-Shit," He grumbled as he felt you cumming around his cock, biting down on your lip so hard that blood was trickling around it, you continued to buck your hips as he thrust into you never wanting the orgasm to end.

"O-oh fuck," He moaned out as he split into you, pulling out and falling down onto the bed beside you and panting, you turned to look at him with a smirk and he shook his head at you. 

"I promise that next time-" You nodded already knowing what he was going to say, you just rolled over to lay your head on his chest and try and get a couple of hours sleep before the twins would wake up.

tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @lyoongx​ @fan-ati--c​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 8: A Mayor

The Storybrooke Sequel to Golden Cuffs

Rumple has a chat with Regina

Read on AO3

After that disaster of a meal, the walk to City Hall gave Rumpelstiltskin time to cool his head. It was one thing to lose control in front of Mrs. Gold, the poor woman would just blame herself for any change in his behavior. But now he was strolling into enemy territory. Going eye-to-eye with the Evil Queen. He knew better than to blink. 

In the old world, there was no question that he was more powerful than Regina. She had learned her magic from him. Even then, the girl had a long list of grievances against a world that had, admittedly, treated her poorly. Rumpelstiltskin had trained her in the ways of dark magic, and that gave her the means to forge her anger into a weapon. Over the years, the queen had refined her rage, hammering her many resentments again and again until her pain was a folded blade, sharp enough to cut the world asunder.   

The most important lesson the Dark One had ever taught his protégé was that true power was the ability to cause pain. If hurting people didn’t make her happy, clearly the solution was to hurt more people. As Regina’s abilities had grown, so did her list of enemies and potential victims. Her wrath had expanded from targeting one little girl, to a small rebellion, to the whole realm.

Storybrooke was Regina’s ultimate victory, even over him. It was not enough for her to simply end the lives of her enemies. She had to torture those who had wronged her, prolong their suffering. For twenty-eight years, she had trapped them all in a world without time. A world where every day seemed exactly the same as the day before--except, somehow, worse. 

She had separated all of them from the people they had loved. She had forced them all to be the worst versions of themselves. She had destroyed their happiness in the hope that she would finally have some for herself.

Had it worked? 

Rumpelstiltskin had reached Main Street, the unofficial border between the old part of  town and the new. Regina lived in New Town, along with the rest of the Storybrooke elite. The castles of this world were made of drywall and stucco, and Mayor Mills lived in the grandest of them all. Did that satisfy her? Was it enough for her to be richer and more powerful than anyone else in town? Did she still feel like a Queen?

City Hall was in New Town as well, only a few blocks away from 108 Mifflin Street. That wasn’t the official residence for every mayor, but it was convenient that the only person who ever ran for the office lived within walking distance. 

Main Street was deserted at this late hour. Even Granny’s had only a few stragglers inside, lonely people lingering over cups of coffee before heading back to empty houses. The loudest noise on the street was the opening of the door from the offices of Dr. Archibald Hopper.

A little boy ran out onto the sidewalk, jabbering excitedly to a blonde young woman.

“I’m telling you, the first step is to figure out who people are. Once we know, then we can help them remember on their own. Then they can find their happy endings!”

“Okay, kid. Sure. We’re gonna suss out people’s secret identities from fairytale land. How?”     

“Don’t worry. It’s all in the book!”

The animated conspirators walked off. Neither one noticed the figure limping in the shadows behind them.

Well, Rumpelstiltskin thought. That was interesting. 

Gold recognized the boy as Henry Mills. Ten years ago--though to a cursed mind it couldn’t possibly have been ten years, my how time flies--Regina Mills had come to Gold and asked him to arrange for an adoption. She had demanded a newborn with no family, preferably from far away. She had wanted a closed adoption, with a birth mother who would never interfere with the life she had planned for the baby. 

It had been a tall order, but Gold had contacted a juvenile detention facility in Phoenix, Arizona. By some happy chance, one of their charges--herself an orphan who had spent her life in the foster care system and inevitably fell to a life of petty theft--had found herself pregnant. Gold had never gotten the name of Henry’s birth mother, but Rumpelstiltskin knew it well.

Emma Swan.

So that was why the Savior had come to town. 

And, apparently, the boy Henry had some idea of the true nature of the people around him. Was it because of this book he had mentioned? Or was reality obvious to anyone who  wasn’t blinded by the curse? Either way, the boy was trying to get Emma to help him make people remember who they were.

How very interesting.

The rest of the walk was easy. Rumpelstiltskin walked with a light step to City Hall. The lights were on in the Mayor’s office, but there was some activity in the garden around the back.

Rumpelstiltskin found the Queen on her knees, picking apples up off the ground. The sedate little garden had become a place of horticultural carnage. An entire branch of Regina’s prized apple tree was on the ground, with a fresh wound on the trunk. The grass was littered with sawdust and leaves and fallen fruit.

“What a mess.” Rumpelstiltskin announced his presence, walking into the enclosed space.  

Regina finished what she was doing before she stood up. “Not for long.”

There was a smile on her face, and a sharp gleam in her eyes. Rumpelstiltskin could read his pupil like a book. Despite the chaos around her, she was celebrating a victory. So far, she was happy. How fragile was that mood?

“This will all be cleaned up in the morning,” Regina said. “And the menace responsible is probably halfway back to Boston by now.”

“You don’t mean Emma Swan, do you?” Rumpelstiltskin circled the tree as he spoke. “I just saw her walking down the main street with your boy. Two of them looked thick as thieves.”

It was always a pleasure to see Regina’s smile vanish, and her satisfaction sour into spite. But now there was an extra thrill in watching her ire. She hadn’t changed at all. Twenty-eight years of getting everything she wanted, and Regina was just as insecure and petty as she had ever been.

Marvelous.  

“I told that woman to get out of my town.”

“Apparently, she didn’t follow your orders.” Reaching up into the tree, Rumpelstiltskin grabbed a low-hanging fruit and twisted the stem until it broke off in his hand. “That makes her rather a special person around here, don’t you think?”   

Regina ground her back teeth, an ugly habit she’d had for years. “I spent all day trying to get rid of her.”

“And you didn’t come to me?” Rumpelstiltskin tossed the apple in the air and caught it in one hand. A whole day? No wonder the Queen was frustrated! Normally her will was worked much more quickly than that. Of course, she normally had help. “I thought you knew where to go when you needed something done.” 

She turned her back on him to examine her tree. “I don’t make deals with you anymore.”

“And what a shame that is for us both,” Rumpelstiltskin lied. “After all, we have such a grand history of working together for our mutual benefit.”

“Your ‘benefits’ aren’t always what they seem, Mr. Gold.” Regina smirked, like she was pointing out some undiscovered fact. “Even when you got Henry for me, now I find out that there’s this woman.”

He held the apple in the palm of his hand. “Children are known to have mothers--”

“I’m his mother!” She cut him off sharply, and he knew that look. If this was a world with magic, the Evil Queen would be throwing fireballs right now. Her anger was always so close to the surface. She had never learned how to hold back, how to sneak and plot and keep your enemies close. 

“Be that as it may.” He kept his voice friendly, the same tone Gold would use. “Next time you need something, I hope you’ll remember to call on me.”

She smirked again, that regal expression of amusement and disdain. It was one of her better masks. “Nice to see you so accommodating, Mr. Gold. I’m glad that woman hasn’t ruined everything in Storybrooke.”

He shook his head, all businesslike courtesy. “No matter what strangers may do, everyone needs a friend in low places.”

“And you are certainly the lowest,” Regina chuckled. The smallest show of deference was enough to restore her good humor. The slightest reminder of the power she thought she had. “By the way, how is Mrs. Gold?”

“Quite well, thanks for asking.” He looked her in the eye and lied to her face. His masks were better than hers and always would be. “She’s a little, ah, tied up, at the moment. But I’ll give her your regards once she’s free.”

“Please do. I always like seeing the two of you around town.”

Rumpelstiltskin polished the apple on the sleeve of his suit jacket. This type was called a Red Delicious, though Mayor Mills would tell people it was a Honeycrisp. She could tell people anything and they wouldn’t question her. 

He began to saunter out of the garden. He had seen everything he needed to see.

 “I wouldn’t worry about Emma Swan.” He left Regina with a reassurance that would only remind her of her real problem. “How could she possibly be a threat to you?”

He didn’t let Regina respond. He had asked her a question that would haunt her waking hours. Whatever happiness she had accumulated with her curse had popped like a balloon the moment the Savior had entered Storybrooke. 

All he had to do was watch the show. 

On his way out of the garden, he took one bite out of the apple. Red through it was, the fruit was far from delicious. It was bland and bitter, just like her. Rumpelstiltskin tossed the apple over his shoulder and left the Queen to the destruction that had once been her sanctuary. 

****

Heading back to the house, Rumpelstiltskin’s mind went to another dark sorceress: Maleficent, the self-styled Mistress of All Evil. She had certainly been the mistress of Regina. Once Regina’s husband was dead and Snow White had fled for her life, Regina had taken Maleficent as her lover publicly. No one in the kingdom had dared speak a word against it. For a time, the two of them were inseparable, their mutual adoration a force that would move mountains. And they liked nothing more than to exercise their power on anyone who was weaker than they were.

They had done it to Belle. Rumpelstiltskin’s heart burned at the memory. Long before he married her, he had let them take her. When Belle had trusted him completely, he had been too much of a coward to defend her. Because he couldn’t have let the queens of darkness know that he had feelings for the pretty girl whose body he had bought and paid for. He couldn’t have exerted any force to protect her from them. He couldn’t have even said that she belonged to him and he didn’t want to share. That would have been a sign of weakness, tantamount to admitting that he loved her.

And he couldn’t have allowed them to know the truth. His reputation, his pride, could not endure it. At the time, he couldn’t even admit it to himself. 

Belle had come back to him naked and bleeding, with a testimony of the worst kinds of torture. Every wound on her body screamed out his guilt. Every word of what she told him as an indictment of his failure. For weeks after she had suffered nightmares and attacks of fear--things he only learned about later, because he hadn’t wanted to hear it, and Belle hadn’t wanted to tell him. The selfless girl had stifled her own trauma for the sake of his ego.

On Rumpelstiltskin’s mountain of regrets, refusing to protect Belle from Regina and Maleficent was a towering peak. 

Of course, Belle wasn’t the only one. Reports and rumors kept circulating about that kingdom, of the horrors inflicted on anyone who stood up to the Queen, or got in her way or even attracted her attention. Fair maidens with dark hair began to stay out in the sunshine to tan their skin and lighten their tresses. They wanted to bear no resemblance to the truest target of Regina’s rage, the girl who always evaded her grasp.

Eventually it had become too much, even for Maleficent. She had left, returning to her own castle. When Rumpelstiltskin had paid a visit to her, the witch had seemed more disappointed than heartbroken.

“It just got boring, Rumple. The same things to the same people, over and over! And Regina was never satisfied, not with me or anyone else. Evil is evil, but a person’s got to feel appreciated for the work she puts in!”

Maleficent would have taken Regina back, he knew. If there was even the slightest hint that things could change, that Regina was capable of growing up. Maleficent would have offered Regina a twisted version of happiness, if only Regina had really wanted to take it. 

Sometimes, late at night while Belle was sleeping safely beside him, Rumpelstiltskin liked to imagine the reconciliation between the two queens. It was an inevitable moment. One way or another, destiny would bring them back together, at least one more time.

Regina would come to Maleficent. Perhaps she would say she was sorry, that she wanted a new start. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to say anything. Maleficent’s eyes would glow with her green fire. And her smile would be of genuine joy. She would lower her defenses and welcome her lover with open arms.

Welcome Regina into her heart.

That image had comforted him through many nights when his mind was tormented by how the queens had tortured Belle. They would pay for all they had done to her. Even now, the thought filled him with vengeful contentment.

****

When he got back to the pink house in Old Town, Rumpelstiltskin found the place dark and quiet. The lights in the entryway were shut off, the candles in the dining room extinguished. The cold, fluorescent light in the kitchen was the only illumination on the first floor.

Plates and cookware were stacked on the counter by the sink. They were rinsed off, but not scrubbed. Gold didn’t trust his wife to wash his precious antiques. 

“Right,” Rumpelstiltskin said. 

In preparation to wash the dishes, he took off his suit coat and draped it over a kitchen chair. Then he removed the cuff links at his wrists and carefully folded up his sleeves. There were black rubber gloves inside the cupboard door underneath the sink. A green canvas apron hung from a hook by the stove. Gold was very fond of protection, of layers and separation. At last, there was something about him that Rumpelstiltskin could understand.

He took off Gold’s moonstone ring and put it in his trouser pockets with the cuff links. Now the only thing on his hands was his wedding ring, the golden band that had once been a shackle around Belle’s wrist.

Before he put on the rubber gloves, Rumpelstiltskin brought his knuckles up to his lips and kissed his ring. He had never removed it in the old world. It was as much a part of him as his own hand. He wouldn’t take it off here, either. The ring was proof that he was Belle’s husband. 

Belle’s husband, and Bae’s father. That was enough. When the world was right, that would be all he would need to be. 

Once the dishes were cleaned, dried, and put away, Rumpelstiltskin gathered his things and went upstairs. Mrs. Gold had said something about taking a bath. She was surely done by now. If he was lucky, she would already be asleep and he wouldn’t have to talk to her again.

It was the end of Rumpelstiltskin’s first full day in Storybrooke. He was already tired, already heartsick, already waiting for the Savior to do her job and free them all.     

The red lamp was burning in the parlor of the bedroom suite, just as it had been the night before. Mrs. Gold had turned it on to welcome her husband. The bedroom was dark, save for a beam of light that shone from the half-open bathroom door.

“Is that you, Mr. Gold?” Belle’s voice came from the bathroom, as well as the faint sound of sloshing water. The whole bedroom smelled like some kind of artificial perfume--the expensive bath oils that Mrs. Gold liked to buy.

“Do a lot of visitors come into this bedroom?” Rumpelstiltskin stayed on the other side of the door and began to undress. 

Mrs. Gold chuckled, the way Belle did when she was relaxed and comfortable. “I never know when you might send someone over to surprise me.”

He winced at that, at the casual way she suggested the possibility. Gold had never allowed another man or woman to touch his wife, but it always seemed to be on the horizon. That was the next barrier to cross, the next thrill for Gold to seek. He had prepared Mrs. Gold to expect it. At any moment, he might invite some stranger into their home--into their bed, into her body--and her task would be to be a welcoming hostess. 

Regina had made it that way. Everything about this marriage was her design, a reflection of what she had seen of him and Belle. It was possible that the torment was supposed to come from how much Gold and his wife both wanted to sleep with more people, but couldn’t find anyone in Storybrooke willing to indulge them.

“I’m almost done shaving,” Mrs. Gold called from the bathroom. “Then I think I could use some lotion. It’s getting colder now. I gotta keep soft and moisturized.”

She was inviting him to rub her down, to put his hands all over her silky skin and cover her body with a slick, sweet-smelling substance. They had done this so many times, in this world as well as the old one. He had made her soft and smooth and warm. He had found her wet and willing and open. His wife wanted him. She was offering herself to him. She loved him and he loved her and joining their bodies together was the most natural thing in any world…

“Fuck,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered as he pulled his pajama pants up over his hardening cock. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, more loudly, he said to Mrs. Gold, “Actually, I think I’m going to go to sleep. You take as much time as you need.”

For a moment, the silence from the other room threatened to swallow the whole of reality. 

“Oh,” she said at last. “O-okay, Mr. Gold. What--whatever you say.”

It hurt to hear the disappointment in her voice. But this was what he had to do. He couldn’t indulge in Mrs. Gold’s appetites--or his own. She wasn’t Belle. Doing anything more than sleeping next to her would be an unconscionable violation of Belle’s trust. 

And besides, that woman had no say over what she thought she wanted. Between the cursed personality Regina had devised and the cruel training Gold had inflicted, nothing inside of Mrs. Gold was real. She wasn’t a person, any more than Gold had been.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed, and got into bed. Maybe he could fall asleep before Mrs. Gold joined him. Or he could feign slumber until she went away to do something else. Would tomorrow be another day like this? And the day after that? Was he going to have to make excuses to this woman until the curse was broken? Coward that he was, he would run and hide from someone who thought she loved him.

He was still awake when Mrs. Gold came out of the bathroom. To her credit, she didn’t try to attract his attention. He had told her that nothing would happen tonight and she respected his decision--far more than Gold had ever respected any of hers. But she still strode across the bedroom to get to the armoire in the parlor. Gold had never made room in his closet for her clothes. 

The light from the bathroom illuminated her body. Her hair was wrapped up in the microfiber towel she had bought specifically for that purpose. Aside from that, she was completely naked. 

He should have looked away. He should have turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes until she put on a nightgown. But he hadn’t seen Belle in twenty-eight years. His wife, his beauty, his light in the darkness.

For a moment, he filled his eyes with her. Hiding in the darkness, he didn’t conceal his interest. He saw it all. Belle’s neck, her shoulders, her slim arms and round breasts. She was so pale and smooth, a statue carved from alabaster. The gentle slope of her belly and the soft curves of her waist and hips. Her long, lovely legs. And between her legs…

Rumpelstiltskin blinked. 

Bile rose in his throat.  

He clenched his jaw, and rolled over in bed. He couldn’t look at her for another second. 

Between her legs, Mrs. Gold was bare and hairless. Like a child. Gone were the wiry curls that used to hide Belle’s treasures. He used to enjoy running his fingers through them, to tease his wife before he began to play with her properly.

It was a style in this world, for a woman to shave or wax her pubic hair. Men thought any hair on a woman’s body was unfeminine or even unhygienic. Apparently Gold was one of those fools. 

But even worse for Rumpelstiltskin was the memory of when Belle came back from her time with the queens. She had been bare then as well. It had taken weeks for her hair to grow back. She said that Maleficent and Regina had shaved her with broken glass. That they had pulled out any stubble by the roots.

Belle had not described the pain, but he could imagine it.

He didn’t know if Mrs. Gold had put on a nightgown before she got into bed. She didn’t touch him or try to speak to him. She probably thought he was angry with her. And while Rumpelstiltskin did seethe with fury, Mrs. Gold had very little to do with it.

Regina. The name pounded through his mind, until the very instant he succumbed to sleep. Regina will pay for all of this. 

****

He is in a cell, in the deepest dungeons of Snow White’s castle. The cell is enchanted, so his magic is useless. It is a dripping cave, carved from solid rock. There are no other prisoners nearby. The guards are stationed at the other end of a long corridor. The only time he ever sees a living soul is when people come to him for help.

He is exactly where he wants to be. 

“I tried your curse,” the Evil Queen rants from the other side of the pointed bars. “It didn’t work!”

“Considering we’re all still here, I should think that’s rather obvious, dearie!”

The Queen snarls at him. Her dark jewels glint in the torchlight. “You know why it didn’t work.”

“Well, I can make an educated guess...”

“Then tell me!”

Leaning back against the rough stone wall, he chuckles at the Queen’s demands. 

“There’s a price to that, dearie.”

She sneers. “Name it.”

“When--” He stops. He makes a show of changing the word. “If you can cast this curse, you will be creating a whole new world. Everything will be as you want it to be, Your Majesty.”

“I know that!” she snaps. “That’s the whole point! This world is stacked against me. This curse is the only chance I have to get my revenge!”

“Yes.” He grins at the Queen, and runs his tongue over his teeth. “You will control everything. All of our fates will be in your regal hands.”

“So what do you want?”

“Oh nothing much,” he waves his hand. “Only what I already have.”

“It’s a world without magic.”

“But not a world without power, yes? Not a world without wealth, or a world without comfort? Not a world without any pleasures at all?”

“Tell me what you want, imp.”

“It truly is a simple request,” he lies. “What is mine, stays mine. Everything I had before I came to this…” He gestures to indicate his captivity. “So the power, the wealth--”

“The woman?” The Queen smirks. “Is that what this is? You want to make sure you keep your little plaything!” Now she laughs. “Are you sure you still want her? She is a little worse for wear.”

“You made sure of that, Your Majesty.” His voice is low, but she doesn’t hear the threat.

“I could make you a lothario instead. Give you a new girl every night? That would be a punishment for quite a lot of people.” 

He moves so fast she cannot see him until he climbs the bars and grabs her by the throat, pulling her toward him. He growls at the Queen. He almost roars: “I. Want. My. Wife!”

The Queen jerks from his clutches, stumbles backwards to get away from him. Quickly, she allows haughtiness to mask her fear. 

“Fine,” she says stiffly. “She will be your wife in the new world, though that will not save you from the curse. Neither of you will remember a second of this place.”

“That’s not as cruel a fate as you might think, dearie.”

“Nevertheless.” She acts like that’s the end of an argument she has won. “Now: how do I cast this curse?”

“You need a heart, dearie.”

“Yes, I know that!” she snaps. “The heart of the thing you love most. I killed my own father and it didn’t work!”

“Poor Prince Henry.” He shakes his head. “He died as he lived: being betrayed by women who never loved him enough.”

“I did love him!” The Queen seems on the verge of tears. “Daddy was the only person who stood by me through everything!”

“Oh!” He widens his eyes and purses his lip in a mockery of her sorrow. “While it is true that the love between father and child can destroy worlds, that doesn’t seem to be enough. The curse doesn’t demand the thing you love much. You must give up the thing you love most.”

“Snow White killed the only other thing I ever loved.”

“Oh, then you’re in trouble, aren’t you, dearie?”  He giggles. “You don’t understand what you’re trying to do!”

“I’m trying to get revenge!”

“You’re trying to make yourself happy!” He grabs the bars of his cage. “You said it yourself, there’s nothing for you in this world. You think you have no choice but to destroy everything here and start over. Do that, and you’ll lose things, dearie. What you love most is just the first step.”

“But I have nothing to love!”

“And nothing loves you? No one loves you, Your Majesty? No one in this world wants to make you happy? No one would embrace you, if only they thought you might embrace them back?”

She begins to speak, then stops. Her royal countenance freezes. He can see the thought blossom in her mind.

“There it is!” he cackles. “You know what you love, dearie. Now… Go kill her!” 

[birth-fic-lover]

Magical babies

Mara had always knew she was different, when she was young she knew she could sence things her sisters couldn’t. Eventurly she discovered she had magical abilities, she became a witches servent to learn her craft. 

The witch would often make Mara do tasks such as cleaning and cooking but also used her as a test subject. One day she sat Mara down, “I belive I have created the potion that will be the most saugh after, a potion that will give someone the ability to become with child, but more then that a child with magical abilities.”

“My my mistress, that is grand. You will be famous within our community” Mara said encoragingly.

“Indeed, I will be able to sell it to not only our type but to royals and the rich. But before I do so, I must test it. Not on myself, I am past those years in my life.”

“Me?” asked Mara a little scared, but that was how it must go. She took the potion and soon found herself unable too keep down food as she felt the affect of morning sickness. 

One morning when she was in her 8th month she was enjoying the warmth of the sun, she was still required to collect wood along side her other tasks but she did not mind. She had one hand absentmindly on her swolen belly, her back was starting to ache from all the movement of her little one.

As she came into the witches home, she watched her pregnant servent. “Still strong and able to keep active, should be able to keep working for the next month. It seems many believe she must be overdue due to her wombs size, but I wonder if her size is a protective layer around the womb” the witch said talking to herself. 

Mara sighed, she was used to her mistrass talking about her instead of too her. But at least she had her child too keep her company, she could feel the magic that was within the unborn child. The baby could somewhat comunicate to it’s mother though the way it leaned or would stop it stong flurry of kicks on comand, though Mara would joke to herself that the baby had more then 2 of each limbs for all the movement she felt. Currently she could feel the child was awake but resting, the baby had recently got the hang of sleeping when Mara slept.

But gave the child a little bit of a scare when she leaned down, feeling it’s shift. “Oh my dear, I’m sorry. I should have warned you I’m just building up the fire” she said fondly rubbing her childs head.

“Talking to the child again? Hmmm maybe I gave the child too much magic?” the witch said “If it’s too advanced that will never do, parents want to still feel like parents or no one will want my potion”. 

Both Mara and her child froze, Mara had not yet asked what would come of the child who would be born in a month. Mara hoped she would be able to mother her child in excanged for them also working for the witch once old enough.

“What will become of the child once born? Will you let me keep them since they will not be able to be used as an example?” Mara asked hopefully.

"Am I an orphanage?” the witch asked in a stern tone “you do not have time to look after a human with too much magic, I will extract the child for examination once it is born. Then we may start again”. 

With that Mara’s belly was dropping right before the witch’s eyes, Mara felt the child started to use it’s head like a battering ram swimming down as hard as it could. She held her belly winded, "gaaahhhh what's happening?" Mara said both hands on her shifting womb.

"Oooo it seems I did make the little one too clever" the witch said rising out her chair. "It seems desperate to avoid my extraction, if it leaves your womb naturally then I can to harm them."

Mara then caught on, all children were magicly protected from harm in this land. You could only at worst have some bad bruises, but no parent had buried there child for hundreds of years due to the enchantment.

The witch wouldn't have it, "then we will simply have to kill it before it leaves your womb". Mara felt shivers down her spine as the witch then put her hand on her active womb. “That’s enough you beastly creature, if you had been smarter you would if hidden your abilities from us." The witch then tried to hold Mara's womb to stop it from moving down, "hold your belly like this" she instructed ans then went to get some ingredients.

But as soon as the witch left her side Mara gave into the urge to squat, trying to help her child escape. "Ohhhhhh" she moaned as her child had found the exit. It continued using it's head like a battering ram straight into the entrance to her birth canal, as it kept forcing itself agaisnt it she could feel it start to give. "Ohhhh that's it baby, break my waters" she said softly.

When the witch returned she howled "oh you stupid ungrateful girl, I will kill you both!" She lunged at Mara but her child then succeeded in breaking Mara's waters, the witch slipped in the fluid.

“Nooooo what have you aloud to happen" the witch knew it was too late. The child was now protected, despite the pain Mara smiled. She dodged around the puddle and her mistress, she knew she had to escape. She worked quickly grabbing what she could.

------

Mara wandered through the woods with one hand pressed around her massive belly, the other holding a bag full of all her belongings. The temperature was dropping from a warm summers day to a cool night quickly, she knew she had to find someplace to stay for the night soon. She had never though she would be in a position where, she feared that her unborn child and herself wouldn’t survive to see the morning. But it seemed that things can change very quickly, as she learnt once again as she felt her belly being squeezed as it was gripped by a contraction. 

“oooofffff” she groaned as she walked on "this has all taken a dramatic turn". She was covered in dirt and sweat from escaping through the woods, the contractions started after she escaped and were getting closer together. She hoped her child would be developed enough to servive out of her womb.

The woman who had sold her the dress she was wearing had told her it would fit her for the final cycle of her pregnancy, but her belly had grown so big the dress was almost like a second skin. It was constrintingly tight, and yet she dared take it off in fear she would never squeeze back into it. This and the consant movement within her made her feel she was carrying a matching pair rather then a single baby. She hoped she was wrong, not because she wouldn't two healthy babies as a blessing. But she just worried she wouldn't be able to provide for her twins. Before she hadn't given it much thought, but now she knew she would have to forage for food.

She walked on a little longer, feeling the cramps every once in a while. They kept coming, she just needed to get to the next village and hope that someone would take pity on her. But then she stopped as she tried to ignore it until the strongest cramp she had felt gripped her. She rubbed her back missing no longer having the comfort of the amniotic sack to keep her baby from being so heavy on her hips. She felt the contractions, they were no longer warnings but the begining of her child needing to emerge. She sensed her child knew too, it had stopped trying to escape since her water broke staying put in Mara's womb. Though naturally the baby was sliding down her birth canal little by little, making harder and harder to walk. "Your being so good wait till we have arrived somewhere", but she knew that she was dialiting and the need to push would come eventually.

She needed to find a safe place to bring her child into the world, but the shock and the pain from this unexpected day now made her head foggy. She started to sob, she found herself lowering her head in prayer to the goddess of fertility. She had herd legands about her, but didn't know if she helped those already blessed with children. But she had to try, maybe herself having magical abilites would win her favour. She wished she knew how to use her abilites, afterwards she raised her head slowly. Nothing felt like it was different, but she felt her child inside her tell her to keep moving forwards.

Eventually she came across a cabin in the distance, she was shaking from relief. Could this be the work of her prayer or was this just around the corner all this time? It looked like it had been left a long time ago, the outside was unloved moss draping the roof and walls. But she could see it was dry and structurally sound, she used her body weight, maybe a little magic and the power of her latest contraction to push the rotting door open.

Inside she found the lamps were out of oil and there was no candles in the holders, but there was a fire place with enough wood to start a fire. She could see some more logs near by, and a mattress made of straw. She pulled the mattress away so it wouldn't catch alight, then started to build a fire.

Her hands slide to her protruding belly as another conraction vibrated though her, "now young one, I will be ready to deliver you soooooohhhhhh hoooooooo". The moan filled the room, she was aware that this child had waited long enough and her body was taking over. She was glad the fire was able to warm her up and hoped it would sooth her aches a little.

Mara rubbed her belly taking a deep breath, she could tell the child was trying not to wriggle but they were getting cramped by the contractions. Mara was glad she was alone and indoors, but as she rubbed the belly that covered most of the knees as she knelt she felt the urge to spread her legs. A moan escaped her lips as she felt her child being forced against her cervix, as she tried to get up she found herself in a low squat. Gravity took over bringing the child slightly out the birth canal making a small bulge form between Mara's legs.

Mara softly stroked the baby's head with the tips of her fingers, she couldn’t help but push hard again and again, now it was time to actually birth the child she felt relief but it was too slow. But Mara didn't give up, she just changed positions opting for hand and knees on the mattress.

When her latest contraction finished Mara liffted a hand to rub her belly, so heavy it brushed the mattress. She then let her hand wander from rubbing across her belly to sooth her child, slowly moving her hand lower wanting to check her progress. She could feel her lips starting to bulge outward even more, she cupped the head supporting it as she pushed it out further.

As time passes her opening started to grow from a tear drop shape, to an oval and then still get larger and larger to accommodate the new life emerging. Mara could feel herself losing her balance, so she guided herself to a kneeling position legs spread wide.

She reached down to carefully support the head that was pulled out even further by gravity, she kept pushing the head into her hands. "GAAAAAHHHHHH" she moaned loudly as the head was fully born, she panted as she prepared to make the shoulders slid out of her.

The urge to push returned immediately so she gave it her all until the body slide out. Her son was here, she brought him up and held him upside down until he coughed and then cried. "Well are you the little trouble maker?" She smiled as she removed her clothes, she wanted him to be skin to skin as she fed him. He sucked hard hungry and strong sucks told her he was doing well, as he fed Mara felt a strong kick telling her that there was indeed another child yet to be born. "It looks like that witch was wrong, ohhhhhhh okay okaaaaayyy".

As her child kept suckling she rubbed her belly with her other hand, she was trying to encourage her other baby to follow it's brother. “Come ooooooonnn" she wanted to get the baby out while she was stretched from her previous birth. She was relieved when she felt how strong the next contraction was, she followed her body’s urging to push happily. She could already feel her second to be born starting to make its way down into her birth canal, "oooohhhh you're keen".

She removed her son from her breasts and layed him down wrapped in her clothes, she watched him as she got into a squat and stright away she could tell this baby was racing to be born. "GAAAAHHHHH HOO HOO GAAAAHHHHHH". Her lips began to part and the contractions didn’t stop, this child was sliding further with each push. She put her hand between her legs breathing deeply, she could feel a hard bulge forming in the palm of her hand.

A few more firm pushes and she felt the head pop all the way out with a small splash of fluids, she reached down to check around the neck. Her heart started beating fast, she could feel her cord wrapped around her child’s neck. “Oh please let it be okay”. She could only guess what to do, she carefully pulled on it until she could slide it over the child’s head. Wasting no time she pushed again feeling the shoulders coming free, she pushed as hard as she could needing to see if her baby was okay. She was beond happy when the child slide out and immediately started to cry.

Mara brought the squalling baby to her chest “Mama’s got you and your big brother is already waiting for you, my beautful boys I will try to be good to you both.” She brought both to her breast and let both boys feed, Mara wondered why her labor hadn’t restarted. She assumed she would be needing to deliver the afterbirth now, as she put her babies back down she felt her round hard belly. She wondered if there was a triplet, but if that was so why was she not still in labour? Mara gently pushed around her firm belly and found a third child high up in her womb. She now could feel it lightly squrming, “well I never”. 

As she felt the feet she realised that the baby was laying sideways at the top of her womb. The baby was wedged tight as her womb had condenced as she contracted and delivered her first 2 children, she wondered if there was enough room to turn the baby into proper birthing position. 

She had to try, so while keeping a close ear on the two sleeping newborns she found what side the head was. With a deep breath she placed one hand on her belly above the head, and one below the baby’s bottom. Carefully she started turning the child, she knew the baby must know because it was very still. 

As soon as the child was head down it started sliding down easily, Mara gasped as she felt her contractions come back. “Gaaaahhhh that’s it, hooo hooo yaaaaahhhh”, as the contractions built up Mara noticed that she felt the head was inside her canal making its way down.

The contractions were right on top of each other now, she spread her legs as wide as she could and pushed with all her strength. Mara was relived she was stretched as it was from the previous two births, now on her knees Mara rocked her hips trying to deliver the child as quickly as she could. 

Mara was so tired and in so much pain the head forcing her lips to part as she pushed. Feeling a hard bulge form under her fingers, she knew that her final baby was on it’s way. Mara felt the head slowly emerge, then with a pop the head was born. She lay down the head sticking out of her she just kept pushing not caring about anything else as one shoulder poped out then the other. The baby slide out and cried from the shock, Mara sat up and cut the final cord. 

She brought the baby to her breast to nurse, she had a little girl. She was glad to see her belly was deflated, and with a few more contractions she pushed out the afterbirth. 

Mara stayed in the cottage and over time learnt how to harniss her magic, she loved her magical children who were smart and were as loving as they were loved.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {44}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

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Chapter 44:   Surrender 

-Vixen-

 “A divorce Vix, really?”

 You sighed and did your best to ignore her. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy especially now that she found out.

 “You can’t ignore me Vixen. I’m like your conscience, your voice of reason. I speak to that part of you that isn’t so withdrawn, the part that wants love, and connection. How do you think you’re going to get any of that by divorcing the man who wants to love you, the man who is trying to connect with you?”

 “Nex, let’s not,” you began opening your laptop.

 “No, we’re going to.” She came around and slammed it shut again. You gave her an exasperated look.

 “No, I’m not afraid of you. One why didn’t you tell me about this? Two, a divorce, is that really what you want? Have you thought about this?”

 You really didn’t want to do this. You were already barely hanging on.

 “Yes. I’m sure and I have thought about it. What else was I supposed to do Nex? We’re complete strangers. We live in two different worlds, there is no way anything can—this was the right call.”

“You’re full of shit. I know how you feel about him. I know how you’ve always felt about him. You can deny it all you want and ignore it and pretend that you have no feelings for him, but I know the truth. Why can’t you just let him in?”

 “I did that twice Nex! I let him in three years ago and he fucked me literally and broke my heart. Then three years later I did it again against my better judgment, against every single alarm inside my head. I did it and surprise, fucking surprise he fucked me again. I am done Nex, I am so fucking done!”

 “Both times you made the same fucking mistake. Both times you bit your tongue, you cut yourself off, you distanced yourself, you pulled a Heisman. Both times you were never all in,” Nexus accused.

 “For good fucking reason. Why would I be all in with a man who has shown me time and time again why he’s not trustworthy, who shows me how different we are, who shows me why I have these defenses why my freedom is the most paramount thing in the world?!”

 “Just say you’re scared and get it over with. You’re scared you’re so in love with him that he can do no wrong and have you fall out of love with him. Hell, you’ve been in love with him for three fucking years and still, you love him. he fucked you over again and you still love him.”

 “And I hate him for it!”

 Silence filled the room. There is was.

 “Vix, there is a thin line between love and hate. What you are forcing as hate could really be such a love that scares you.”

 “Nex, I am so drained. I have never been more drained in my life and that includes being pregnant, going to culinary school, and going through labor while I finish exams. I am tired.”

 “Then stop running. Yes he fucked up, twice, he should have told you, he should have never taken your choice away from you. I am not condoning it at all, but I understand.”

 “Of course you do. Why am I not surprised. You always understand everything he does.”

 “Because I choose to. You choose to shut it down, lock it away and never address it. You choose to hope it goes away, but Vix it won’t go away. It’s like a scab, it will keep itching and crusting unless you treat it. Face your fears baby sister, face them and grab them by the horns and take your happiness, take your life back. This isn’t living.”

 With your back to her, you stared out the window. You hated when she got this involved. The way you handled things it worked; it had been working. you couldn’t afford to go back to that woman from three years ago. Thankfully your phone rang distracting you from the conversation.

 “Hello? Hi Charmaine. No, you’re not interrupting anything. How can I help you?”

 You listened to her give you up to date information from Chris’ lawyers and every word she spoke made your heart beat faster and your mind race.

 “No, I’m here. Sorry. Um—so that means what exactly?” She spoke again and when she stopped you knew you should have said something but words failed you.

 “Thank you. I have to go.” You hung up and took several breaths.

 “Who is that?”

 “My divorce lawyer,” you informed.

 “Wow, you’re serious about this shit. Unbelievable. What did she say?”

 “Chris’ lawyers informed her that per Chris, he doesn’t want anything from me. Whatever I had three years ago and since he doesn’t want any of it.”

 “No shit!” You looked at her, she looked impatient as if she was sick and tired of you.

 “He also said that he won’t fight me for custody, he doesn’t want joint custody, he just wants access to her when he can in San Fran.”

 “Again, no shit. I’ve told you that he is not like that and you know he’s not like that. You know exactly who he is and always have. You saw the real him that night in Vegas, the him that you fell for and decided to be carefree with. He’s not an asshole Vix.”

 “She said that if I want half of what he has he will not contest it.”

 There was silence now, both of you letting that nugget sink in. He was giving you access to everything he owned, no fight. It showed a disregard for it like none of it mattered.  

 “Yep.” Nexus shook her head then sighed.

 “Look, Vix, you’re on the right path to being alone forever, the right path to just let the one man who actually is your equal, your potential match slip right through your hands. You are on the right path to not making sure that Ella’s relationship with him is not the best it can be, the right path of stealing such a happy family and future from her. So, if that is what you want then continue because the outcome is inevitable.”

 Once she said the words she walked out leaving you standing there shaking from the impact of what she said. You were going to fall apart; it was only a matter of time.  You already didn’t know if you’d made the right decision. You knew you sided with your fear instead of your heart and what made it worse was you felt completely incapable of taking a chance.

 Pushing the conversation with Nex away you focused on the tasks for the evening. You walked out of your office and looked out and down to the space below. The restaurant was coming together nicely. It was T minus four days before the grand opening and you were so close to the finish line you could see it.

“Amazing isn’t it?” Beside you, Kassius looked down at the view you were looking.

 “It is. I can’t believe that we’re getting so close.”

 “You worked hard for this Vixen. I can’t wait for it to pay off. This place looks incredible. You are going to blow minds on Saturday.”

 You smiled and felt the excitement bubbling within you. You sure hoped so. It would suck to put this much work, tears, and sweat into something and it be a horrible failure.

 “Don’t worry. This is what I do for a living. I take chances but only on things I’m sure about. I’m sure about you Vixen. You’ll see.” He patted your back then walked away. You took a deep breath and tried to knock it into your head that you were going to crush the opening.

 The rest of the evening you did your best to stay present and work with the crew that was left there. No job was too small for you, you chipped in and got your hands dirty. Nothing was beneath you. When you left that night you were pleasantly surprised to see that none of the paps were outside. For the first time in weeks, you took a deep breath and walked to your car. You thanked your security and drove down the near abandoned street.

 While finishing your errands at the pharmacy you saw the tabloid rack and scanned the covers. At least six of them were about you and Chris. This was still a big adjustment seeing your face plastered on tabloid magazines and having people so interested in everything about you. Over the last week, you’d scanned some of the gossip sights and had read some hurtful things that people were saying but also read some kind ones. It was a toss of the dice type of situation.

One of the covers had Chris’ face on it in the center, but there were several women circling him. The white headlines were all about his history with each of them. When you read the words, your interest piqued. “Chris Evans Married but quite the impressive list of mistresses over the years.” You couldn’t believe the nerve of these gossip magazines.

 “What if we were happily married and I saw this?”

 You bought the magazine and made it home to find Ella asleep and dinner in the microwave. After a shower, you sat down with a bottle of wine and ate in the dim light of the kitchen. You flipped through the article and saw pictures of him with the women. They were all beautiful, all sexy and all completely different. One of the two things they looked to have in common was the color of their hair. They were all brunette or brunettes with highlights. They all were also white. You knew that you were probably the only woman of color he’d associated with but to see his entire dating history laid out for you cemented it.

 For the next near hour, you sat there comparing yourself to these tall, slim, blue-eyed, actresses and models and tried not to feel any jealousy. He’d gotten around these last three years. While you were steering clear of the opposite sex, he was fucking his way through Hollywood. It made you think back to what he’d said the night at your house that he’d thought of you all these years and been in love with you. Looking at his little black book before you made you want to shout bullshit. You also tried not to be too critical on yourself for being so different from them or let your insecurities flare-up. You wondered why you and if you were some phase he had to work through.

 It took you almost two hours to realize the postal envelope across the kitchen. When you took it up you saw your name on it but no sender information. When you looked inside the envelope you froze for a few moments before you emptied out its contents onto the counter. Before you were items you hadn’t seen in years, items you’d almost forgotten about. Items you’d ran out of his house without.

 You slowly examined the items beginning with your golden anklet. You’d searched for it for weeks until you accepted you’d lost it somewhere in Vegas or LA. It was one of your favorite pieces of jewelry and you missed it. You then moved on to the lace bra and panties you were wearing the night you were at Chris’. You hesitated touching them, afraid somehow you’d be bombarded with memories. Finally, you took up the bra and smelled it, it still smelled like your perfume, a perfume you still wore every once in a while.

 “My god.”

 Your eyes landed on the golden ring on the counter. The last time you’d touched it was to slide it onto his finger. Suddenly you felt as if you’d run a marathon from your racing heart to your sweaty palms. You took up his wedding band and slowly examined it.

 “He’d held on to all of this, this whole time.”

 Your shock was evident. You couldn’t believe it and didn’t know why he still had any of this especially your underwear. You must have stood there staring at his ring for an hour or so. Everything from the last few months raced through your head, every conversation, every smile, touch, every quiet night together and every genuine moment. You began to wonder if he’d been truthful the whole time. Wondered if you had it in you to take that leap that was required.

 Walking over to your bag, you pulled your phone free and found his contact.

 MSG: 9-1-1. Cathy’s corner where we had tacos.

You shoved the items into a Ziploc bag, grabbed your bag and hurried out the door in your car without a thought to your attire. The drive was relatively quick because of the hour. The streets were mostly abandoned and the further you drove into Mulholland Drive the darker they got. When you pulled up to the spot where you sat with him a few weeks ago you stared out over the city lights. It was still a beautiful view. 

After a minute you worried that it was too little too late, worried that this was too far to come back from. You’d pushed too far.

 After a few more minutes, you saw bright headlights pull up the drive, then the car screeched to a halt beside yours at an angle that blocked your bumper. You watched as Chris jumped out his car wearing a men’s tank and dark sweatpants.

 “What’s the matter? Is it Ella? Is she okay? Are you hurt?” His words rushed out one after the other as he approached you. Once he was before you his eyes scanned your body. You then held up the items in front of his face.

 “Why did you hold on to these?”

 Chris’ expression changed from worry to confusion, then annoyance. “Vixen, are you kidding me? You text me 911. I'm running red lights, switching lanes, honking like a mad man thinking something was seriously wrong with you or Ella. You can't text 911 if it's not 911!”

 He sounded exasperated as he rubbed his forehead. Ignoring his rant you asked again.

“Why did you hold on to these? You could have thrown them out.”

 “I should have,” Chris dryly responded with little emotion on his face.

 “Yeah. So?” Chris didn’t speak for a few seconds. He then rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head.

 “I couldn't. I--I--,” he stuttered before he let out a loud groan while he ruffled his unkempt hair. With a grunt, he walked away from you before turning back to you once there was space between you.

 “What are we doing here? What do you want?”

 “Tell me why you couldn't,” you countered.

 “No. You tell me why I'm here. I've said everything I need to say. What do you want?”

 “Everything. It's my one fatal flaw. I want it all. I want the incredibly successful, fulfilling career that everyone envies, and I want the perfect, loving, sexy, guy who is head over heels in love with me and will give me everything I want. I want him to love me completely. I want him to never leave and have me be his only dream. I want my amazing little girl who is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to keep her happy and help her grow to be the best version of herself. I want happiness, peace, and joy. I want everything!”

 Chris scoffed and shook his head looking at you as if this was no surprise. “No surprise there. What does that have to do with me?”

 “My career is getting there. I am so close to getting what I want, so close to fulfilling my dreams there. My little girl is amazing, she was born amazing and she is happy and growing; or she was happy until she didn't get to see her daddy as much as she had been lately. Ironically, a daddy she'd lived without for years and now can't seem to forget him after only a few short months. She loves you so much and it makes my heart so full and warm. I want her to be happy again and the only way that can happen is if I find a way to be strong enough, a way to be brave to stand here and tell you that I've never felt nothing for you.”

 Your heart was racing a mile a minute and the fear you felt was real, but you also knew you couldn’t just stop there. Chris didn’t move, and his face gave nothing away. He was unreadable, you hated it. Guess it was your turn to suffer with it now.

 “Since we met even though I heavily drank and got drunker and drunker I felt things for you I'd never felt before. I was able to talk to you and open up to you in a way I only do with Nex. It was insane what we did getting married like that, but I know without a doubt I wanted it. That night at your house you hurt me but only because I thought we were on the same page I thought you felt what I did, and it turned out you didn't. Boston--of course it meant something,” you confessed. That was when Chris’ face glitched with emotion.

 “What?”

 It was do or die time, you thought.

 “I haven't been with anyone since you. No dates, no kissing, well except Zack but that meant nothing. There has been no one. I haven't let there be anyone and I tricked myself into believing it was because I didn't have the time or the energy but I didn't want to invest again or get my hopes up only to get hurt and the truth was I never got over you. I never fell out of love with you.”

 The way he stared at you was only making your heart pound harder and the butterflies flit through your stomach more. He still stood there not moving, not encouraging or discouraging your newfound candidness. Turning away you walked to your car and dug into your purse for the desired item then walked back to him. You held up the papers so he could see.

 “Thought you were going to file those. I signed them over a week ago.”

 “You did,” you answered before you ripped them once, then twice. You attempted a third, but it was tough. A small smile spread across his face before he walked closer to you. Still, he didn’t touch you.

 “Your mother said something to me in Boston, she said, "fate only brings us what is meant and letting something go and it coming back should not be let go again especially if it's what you want."

 He nodded his head as if he agreed. “Sounds like my mom.”

 “Smart woman. Fate brought you to me in Vegas, you let me go, fate said no and gave me Ella, then fate brought me to you, and I've tried to let go. I can't. I have to stop running.” Saying those words felt surreal. All the self-help books said acceptance was the first step then admittance, you just did both in the same breath.

 “Are you saying we're meant to be?” The curiosity and amusement on his face weren’t missed. You were relieved, you thought he’d be angry to see you after what you’d said.

 “Do you think we are?”

 Chris gazed deeply into your eyes and closed the remaining space between you, but still, he didn’t touch you. You wanted him to, but you’d wait.

“You're the only one meant for me. I love you Vixen, I always have, I always will.” Chris softly trailed the back of his hand across your cheek caressing it. A smile spread over your face as joy filled you. Chris looked scared, worried even.

 “I love you too, Chris. I always have and apparently no matter what idiotic plan you concoct, I always will.” 

 The two of you smiled the goofiest smiles ever then pressed your lips together in a sweet kiss. A kiss that increased in passion as the seconds ticked by. Before either of you got carried away, Chris pulled back and stared at you with a serious look on his face.

 “So no divorce?”

 “Nope. I’m so sorry. I ruined everything and hurt you. I hate that I hurt you, I hate that I said those things to you. My god Chris, I’m so sorry.”

 Chris didn’t speak, instead, he took the ripped papers that you still held and ripped them three more times before he flung them in the air. At that moment, the breeze picked up and blew them away scattering them around. The two of you stood there watching them drift in the night sky with sentimental smiles on your faces. 

 “Matter of fact,” Chris began. When you looked to him you were in time to see him drop down onto one knee. That was all it took for the tears to well in your eyes. Chris held onto your hands as he stared at you. You could see everything in his eyes and for the first time, you didn’t doubt any of what you saw.

 “Vixen Star Giovanni-Evans, the last time I did this I was drunk off my ass but even drunk me knew without a doubt that you were something to hold on to. The last three years have not been easy, and they have been quite unconventional. We've both grown so much and accomplished so much. I can say that I am a better man because of meeting you three years ago. I am a better man today. A man that is not only ready but begging for a second chance; a chance to love you properly; a chance to build a life with you, grow even more with you; a chance to be the man that loves you unconditionally; a chance to be the husband I've always envisioned myself, the father I've wanted to be. Will you spend the rest of your life with me, will you allow me to stand by your side and take care of you and show you every single day just what you mean to me? Will you be the mother of my six kids? Will you marry me—again--but for the last time.”

 You laugh throwing your head back and rejoicing in the feel of happiness, a happiness that you hadn’t felt in so long. You pulled him up to stand before you then pressed your forehead on his chest. You allowed your tears to fall freely unabashedly.

 “Are you sure?”

 Chris swiped the pad of his thumbs across your cheeks drying the tears as they fell. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life as I am sure that I want to be married to you until the day I die.”

 “Goddamn!”

 “Yes, but we may have to revisit six kids.”

 Chris smiled widely and shook his head dismissing the notion.

 “Nope. Six. One down, five to go.”

 Your laugh was loud, and you didn’t care. You kissed him again and again and again hoping that this was the beginning of making up for the time you’d been apart and the beginning of building a beautiful life together.

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[seyaryminamoto]

I feel like i'm gonna regret asking this but what is hiby

Oh. Ohohoho, oh. I recently answered this to someone else (not on this blog), I suppose there are so many newcomers in this fandom lately that HIBY has become slightly less known than it used to be.

HIBY stands for How I Became Yours, the most polemic and catastrophic fancomic in the history of the Avatar franchise. If you thought any of the official comics were problematic in any sense, woah boy, they’re goddamn flawless masterpieces compared to this thing.

Every possible angle of HIBY is problematic. Spot-on accusations of tracing were the main reason why Deviantart took down Jackie Diaz’s profile and comic from their platform. I heard Nickelodeon also got involved legally, not 100% sure on that front, but if true, they cracked down on her because she attempted to profit off this clunky mess of an inconsistent story by claiming it was somehow an official sequel to ATLA. To clarify, this last thing is something I was told, I can’t find actual sources to confirm it… so maybe I heard an exaggerated account of the tale of HIBY and it never went that far. Nevertheless, this comic didn’t need to escalate into a legal problem to be absolutely abhorrent.

In regards of art, HIBY somehow keeps discarding the asian-inspired setting seen throughout ATLA and instead favors showing the characters in European castles and outfits that don’t fit anywhere within ATLA’s world at all:

Katara is basically wearing a red version of Belle’s dress from Beauty and the Beast, if I’m not mistaken. The architecture of the place they’re at is so European it’s baffling (if I’m not mistaken, this is supposed to be Toph’s family’s house :’D). Also, it’s blatantly obvious that the background is a photograph, so she could’ve just as easily looked for photos of asian locations instead, but she picked european architecture because yes. Yet more blows against the possible artistic merits someone could offer this comic (if there’s any).

Now, though, the BIGGEST problem in HIBY is, of course, the story:

To recap: ATLA ends with Aang and Katara kissing at Ba Sing Se. Whatever problems someone may have with their relationship, or Mai and Zuko’s, or Sokka and Suki’s, it’s unquestionable that those three ships were canon by the end of the show.

Jackie Diaz’s SEQUEL COMIC doesn’t acknowledge this finale: somehow, Aang is in love with Toph but they’re not together despite there’s literally NOTHING in their way, since Aang and Katara weren’t together at all, according to Diaz. And Katara? Oh, she’s pining endlessly over Zuko, who somehow married Mai…

… Despite wanting Katara too.

… Despite he literally knocked up Katara back when the war was ending, which resulted in a miscarriage because of Mai’s wicked schemes~~!!

Can someone please explain to me in what world does it make sense for Zuko, FIRE LORD ZUKO, to be in a relationship with someone he doesn’t want, when the person he does want is RIGHT THERE, AVAILABLE, when there’s no real political consequences to ANYTHING that happens in this comic? You could say “oh no the Fire Nation people wouldn’t accept a Water Tribe woman…” … but then Zuko ends up with Katara anyways and the only problem is that Mai wants to kill them for that :’) so… no excuse works.

Basically there’s no real plot, the whole thing boils down to “I want these ships to happen and I need them to face hardships even if they don’t make sense”. The main hardship is that Mai doesn’t want her HUSBAND to carry out an affair with Katara. Zuko’s response to Mai’s obvious and reasonable complaint about their illicit relationship is to TURN VIOLENT WITH HER. And he’s the good guy :’)

Mai has a non-existent older brother Sho, who looks like a BLEACH character with Ozai’s hairstyle, and together they will try to kill Katara because, welp, someone has to give them trouble, I guess. In all fairness, the only character with a relatively logical flow of thought in this damn trainwreck is Mai. I mean, “my piece of shit husband married me for political clout, got his mistress pregnant, I didn’t want the kid to be a problem for me so I induced a miscarriage in Katara by poisoning her, probs just wanted Katara dead altogether but whatever, I only got the kid. Then Zuko threw me away despite I’m his legal wife and I’m really pissed about it so I want Katara dead” is the smartest writing in this entire comic. And no, that’s not a compliment, it’s still stupid as fuck but that’s how much more stupid everything else is. 

So, the happy couples are, like I said, Zuko and Katara, who get together despite Zuko is married to Mai, Aang and Toph, who somehow weren’t together despite there’s nothing in the way, AAAND… 

… Sokka and fake!Azula. Because I refuse to acknowledge that thing as the Princess we all love and adore.

Frankly, I consider it a miracle that HIBY didn’t destroy our ship completely when it was posted online, seeing as it was amongst the most talked-about fanmade content in Avatar’s fandom at the time. If people no longer associate Sokkla with HIBY immediately, we’ve definitely done a good job saving our poor ship’s face and showing it’s got a fuckton of potential compared to the shitfest that comic portrayed.

Why is Sokkla so problematic in HIBY? Because of fake!Azula, of course. Why is she fake!Azula? Because she’s got plot-convenient amnesia! Turns out that, for some reason, Azula forgot all the events from ATLA (let’s be real, so did Jackie Diaz so it’s not just her) and she shows up in this comic as a completely different character, so much that, upon hearing about the TERRIBLE THINGS SHE DID AND WAS, her reaction is…:

Fascinating, am I right? :’D She’s nice, sweet, shy and as good as brain-dead. And as she’s so sweet and cute now, somehow that becomes absolutely appealing for Sokka. And he falls for her, she falls for him, they bang dramatically, and so on and so forth…

Eventually Azula sacrifices herself in the final battle when Mai and her brother try to kill everyone and oh no! Sokka’s love interest dies again! Such a shocker, however, that Sokka goes to the Spirit World to save her, and unlike Iroh he succeeds… but what does Azula look like post-Spirit World shenanigans?

… Yeah, okay, fake!Azula calling anyone her “little angels” is just proof of how IC she is, if you had any doubts still.

But isn’t it FUNNY. Isn’t it HILARIOUS. That Azula not only undergoes an atom-deep brainwipe that turns her into a flat non-character, but that after dying she’s revived with WHITE HAIR, dressed in blue clothes and whatnot…?

My interpretation, and honestly, I don’t know if there’s any other possible interpretation… Jackie Diaz wanted Sokka to be with Yue :’) She fucking wrecked Azula’s character to turn her into a fake!Azula, who would eventually turn into fake!Yue after being resurrected because oh that’s just perfect to close off Sokka’s storyline, isn’t it? Only, he’s not with Yue nor with Azula because it’s neither of them. Just as it isn’t really Sokka either, or Katara, or Zuko or Aang or Toph.

Now, revisiting this trainwreck, there is a throwaway line where Ty Lee, in her (I think) only appearance in the story tells Katara that Suki and Sokka broke up. So um, Suki does exist, officially, in this comic, and she did date Sokka but it ended, and she’s back in Kyoshi Island with her team. 

Which elicits the question… why the fuck is she Mai’s maid?

I assure you, if you decide to delve deeper into this mess, you’ll absolutely find a lot more things to laugh about, to be outraged about, and to facepalm about while you wonder how on earth would someone, ANYONE, create something like this and not die of cringe looking at the finished product. It’s baffling to me.

At any rate, if you’d like to torture your own eyeballs reading this comic for yourself, there’s a Tumblr blog that gathered HIBY perfectly neatly for all curious eyes eager to torture themselves with this OOC fest. If you want more details than I care to remember about this catastrophic mess of a story, there’s always the TV Tropes page, which I think illustrates everything rather well. 

So… that’s HIBY. While I don’t think it should be sentenced to oblivion (we had best never forget the lowest lows the fandom has reached, else someone might be tempted to outdo them), this particular fanwork is quite the trainwreck in just about every regard. I really don’t think there’s anything worth salvaging in it. So, if you wanna read the whole thing (I’d be surprised if you would xD), knock yourself out in the blog link I posted up there. Otherwise, have a nice day if you still can after reading my answer to your ask :’D

[of-muppets-and-men]

Penumbra

Just an Ichiruki canon divergent type story I’m taking a crack at.

This takes place a few years after the Quincy war.

Chapter One: Waning

Winter in the Seireitei was arguably even more frigid than it was in the real world. The chilling air seeping into every crack and crevice, freezing the citizens to the bone. Lower districts suffered the most, its poor residents struggling to keep warm. Huddling together like penguins to stave off frostbite and lost toes. And years of enduring it as a boy left a bad taste in one Renji Abarai’s mouth.

The restless lieutenant walked silently through the upper echelons of the Seireitei, Zabimaru tout by his side. His stride long and somber as he moved through the fortunate streets. The posh smiles of other souls sickening him to some degree. Their whisperings and hushed voices undoubtedly about him. The lieutenant adjusted his heavy cloak so he could avoid meeting their gaze. Renji had been to and seen hell, while these people hid and scattered like roaches. But he would ultimately pay their judgement no mind. After all, he had a more pressing concern; like finding his fiancee.

At long last, the shinigami reached his destination: The Shihouin estate.

Its gates opened before him, grandiose as always. A slew of servants filed out, forming symmetrically at the edge of the path. The respectfully bowed toward him, a Noble formality he'd come to hate. The head servant, a woman who’s name he hadn’t bothered to remember, guided him inside to meet her mistress. Renji followed the diminutive woman inside to a decadent living room where an old friend sat lazily.

“Mistress, you have a guest.” the servant spoke.

Yoruichi looked up to see who had interrupted her midday snacking, only to see Renji give off his familiar scowl. The reinstated head of the Shihouin clan fired back with a coy smile, then continued to nibble on a pocky stick.

With a wave of her hand, the attendant left the room, leaving Renji and her alone.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Sit.” Yoruichi coaxed “You are my guest, no?”

With a heavy sigh, Renji waltzed over, propping his zanpakuto against an adjacent pillar. He removed his thick cloak, laying it beside him as he made himself comfortable. Yoruichi’s sofa was soft, almost too soft as he felt his body sink into the cushions. In an attempt to start the conversation, Yoruichi pointed the open pocky box in Renji’s direction.

“Want one?” She asked with a purr.

“Where is Rukia?” Renji barked.

“Wow, straight to the point. Oh well, more for me.”

“Yoruichi…”

The Lieutenant eyes spoke volumes. He clearly wasn't in the mood for games. The Shihouin head rolled her eyes at his seriousness, laying her beloved snack on a nearby table. She refined her posture, crossed one leg over the other as she often did and spoke truthfully.

“I haven’t seen her in weeks, Renji. No one has.” Yoruichi answered his looming question.

Renji then slouched down, angrily muttering profanities to himself. Anyone could see he was distraught; he’d proposed to Rukia a mere 3 months ago. Now she just drops off the face of the Soul Society without telling anyone. Not Byakuya or any of the other captains, Not Kisuke or Yoruichi, and certainly not him. His only clue was a note reading 'don't look for me'. It was mind-numbingly frustrating to say the least.

Renji was so deep in thought, he hadn’t noticed Yoruichi scoot beside him. The forlorn Shinigami only broke his trance when she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Renji, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But what if she’s been kidnapped?! What if she needs my help and I’m just sitting on my ass doing nothing?!”

“Renji… You, Rukia and Ichigo have faced down every person that has threatened the Soul Society. There’s no one left strong enough to even pose a challenge. Yhwach is gone. The Wandenreich are gone. So stop fussing over her safety. Rukia probably just needs some time for herself. And.. if that’s the case, she‘ll come back.”

The Shihouin Head’s words just barely set him at ease. With a quick jolt, he rose from his seat, fists clenched tight. The worry on his face or his heart hadn’t diminished as much as she had wanted. Slightly defeated, he made his way for the gate.

“Sorry but I can’t stay. It was good to see you, Lady Shihouin.”

An obvious and poor attempt to jab at her. At least he was trying.

“Have you talked to Ichigo yet?” Yoruichi asked curiously.

“No, but I’m headed to Karakura next.”

“Okay… stay safe.”

A nod was all she got in response. She walked him out; all the while surrounded by her entourage of servants and attendants. The lot of them bowed diligently as the lieutenant wearily made his way off the estate. As the old friends waved each other off, the gates cut off their view of one another.

Her many servants dispersed, leaving her to saunter back to enjoy the rest of her snacks. Before she could even take off her sandals however, a voice came from beyond the foyer.

“Is he gone?” the diminutive voice asked.

“Yes. He is.” Yoruichi responded.

“Good.”

The owner of the little voice traipsed out of the darkness. Illuminated by the light of the afternoon, a very nervous and also very pregnant Rukia met eyes with her confidant. A disappointed Yoruichi crossed her arms at the expecting mother. Rukia smiled timidly only to wince in pain, grabbing hold of her ever-growing baby bump. The Flash goddess was by her friend’s side in the blink of an eye, fearing the worst.

"Are you okay?" Yoruichi frantically asked, helping Rukia maintain her balance.

“Yoruichi, stop. I’m fine… really. She just kicked.”  Rukia explained, trying to calm her old friend.

“Wait. She?” She exclaimed in bewilderment.

“Mhmmm. Isane said it was a girl. Here, Wanna feel?”

Rukia calmly guided her friend’s hand to the spot her little one had made herself known. Yoruichi pressed her palm gently over Rukia’s stomach; to feel a tiny foot press back. The moment was precious, the both of them nearly began to cry. Using what strength they had, they forced it into a teary eyed chuckle instead.

“Alright, no more fooling around. You should be resting Okaa-chan.” Yoruichi chided.

Rukia chucked, rolling her eyes as they walked back to the guest room she’d been secretly staying in. But the manner of Renji’s visit had both of them troubled. Renji did love her enough to go looking for her, but how long until Ichigo came looking as well? He was Ichigo after all. Nothing on heaven and earth could stop him once he was invested in something. As Rukia pondered, Yoruichi had some questions of her own.

“Do you plan on telling Ichigo about his child?” She asked, her voice solemn and rigid.

Rukia looked up into her friend’s golden eyes “I don’t know if I can…”

“Well, one of these days, you’re not gonna have a choice.” Yoruichi once again lectured.

“I kno-”

“Do you? Rukia, I’ve lied to everyone I could for you. Hidden you away from your family, friends and your fiance. All so you could keep Ichigo’s child. Do you really understand the ramifications of what you’re doing.”

Caught in her frustration, Yoruichi hadn’t realized Rukia had become to cry. Tears streamed from the expectant mother’s eyes as she slumped to her knees. She buried her swelling eyes into her palms. The petite woman continually wiped at her cheeks, only for more tears to take their place. Knowing she’d said too much too soon, Yoruichi comforted her as best she could.

“Rukia, I’m sorry. That was exce-”

“No… you’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’ve asked so much of you. All for the sake of my child that I'm not even sure I'll get to see grow up. Yet I can't bring myself to get rid of it because it’s the only proof I have that he loved me.”

The small woman continued to bawl in the middle of the hallway, the noise of her sobs echoing off the walls. The deafening silence of the manor made Rukia’s sobs even more poignant. Yoruichi had fully embraced her by this point, stroking her hair to help calm her. Rukia’s relationship with Kurosaki had always raised Yoruichi’s attention, but she never would’ve guessed how far they went. That this whole fiasco was a sign; a sign Rukia was still hopelessly in love with Ichigo. Even though her child would likely never know her parents, Rukia had every intention of bringing her to term. A resolve Yoruichi would have to match.

“Okay. As your friend, I will help you through this. No matter what. But I do have one last question. Why haven’t called off your engagement? Or talked to Byakuya?”

“Because I’d be disowned. What future would my daughter have then?”

“Ichigo would take you in. I’m sure he would.”

“I’m not so sure. We haven’t spoken since… well, y’know. And if I suddenly went back with our child my arms. There’s no telling how he would react. Not to mention his engagement...”

Rukia had been plagued by uncertainty ever since Isane did her ultrasound. Every question her mind created led to more stress. Stress that threatened both her daughter and her. So Rukia had stopped thinking about it altogether. And it showed.

The elder shinigami doled out a heavy sigh, unsure of what to be more baffled by; that fact she willingly let herself get caught in this debacle or Rukia’s surprising lack of a plan. Well she’d already come this far with Rukia, she would have to see it through to the end.

“Oh dear, what did I do to deserve this.”

(Repost cuz Tumblr is wack)

[saint-hildegard-of-bingen]

Nizhóní (Nee-zhon-ee)                One quote one shot book 2

So much gratitude to @balfeheughlywed and @notevenjokingfic for their work and efforts organizing this one shot one quote. My story is set in the beautiful southwestern US, an area where I spent four years studying and working with the Navajo. I am indebted to them for teaching me many life lessons. When I most recently visited the southwest, in October 2018, I felt inspired to write an OL fanfic set among the multi-layered beauty and culture of northern New Mexico and Arizona. The photos are (1) the area where I imagined this story taking place (you might spot me in the photo), and (2) the beloved Navajo woman who taught me about weaving (photo used with her permission). I extend special thanks to my dear friend @notevenjokingfic for her beta expertise!  My assigned quote is in bold italics near the end of the story.

She knew it could happen. She just never believed it would happen. What young woman imagines herself newly pregnant and widowed at age 25?

But that is indeed the reality Claire Beauchamp Randall found herself in, shortly after she and her husband Frank became homesteaders in the New Mexico territory, in 1872. Frank’s death came suddenly, following an accident that occurred while he was cutting down a tree. Unbeknownst to him, the tree had several dead branches, one of which broke off with the first swing of his axe, knocking him forcefully to the ground. He never regained consciousness, and Claire surmised he had suffered an injury to his brain.

Screaming and running, she had no idea how she arrived at the nearest homestead. Out of breath, and barely able to get the words out, she fell into the outstretched arms of her neighbor. Glenna and Charles Fitzgibbons, the Scots couple who befriended her from the day she and Frank arrived, brought her into their home and she poured out the whole story.  While Frank never warmed to them, Claire knew from the first they were the kind of neighbors one always hoped to have; they were reliable, generous, friendly, and they knew everyone in the area, having arrived in New Mexico territory fifteen years earlier.

Several hours later, Claire felt strong enough to return to her homestead. While Glenna helped her prepare the body for burial, Charles dug the grave. Glenna had done this before, and her gentle strength enabled Claire to bear her jumbled thoughts and emotions.

“Claire, are ye thinking of returning tae England?” Glenna asked, her loving and compassionate voice reminding Claire of how grateful she was for such a friend.

“I have nothing there, really,” Claire starred off into the distance, her gaze settling on the red rock cliffs in the distance. “You know my parents and uncle are gone, and I have no other family. I do not even know what kind of life I would have there. And travel would be difficult for me with a baby coming. I have enough money to live on for now.” She spilled her heart out to Glenna, grateful to finally share her fears and anxieties with someone. Relief mixed with fear, sadness mixed with a sense of resignation.

So it was that just 2 years after arriving in the U.S., a mere 6 months after reaching Santa Fe following an arduous journey by covered wagon, and 3 months after settling on their land situated on the border of the New Mexico and Arizona territories, Claire found herself alone on the frontier.

When Frank made the decision for them to emigrate, they joined the unprecedented number of immigrants drawn to a new life in America, lured by the dream of economic prosperity and vast tracts of unspoiled land. While initially she found the idea of homesteading in the West foolish and reckless, after they arrived in western New Mexico, Claire relished the wide open spaces, endless horizon, and the landscape that seemed as though it was painted by a divine artist.

Frank wanted to make a name for himself, and he found prospects for doing so in England diminishing as he alienated himself from family, friends, and associates. Having read anthropology and history at Oxford, he initially imagined himself as a professor, but after hearing tales of the Indian Wars in the American west, and having a distant cousin who had joined the homesteaders, his sense of adventure led him to purchase tickets for the journey across the Atlantic.

That he only told Claire about it after the fact gave her heightened awareness of his total lack of regard for her preferences, feelings, and aspirations to further her work as a nurse and midwife. Having trained at St. Thomas Hospital and the Nightingale Training School for Nurses in London, Claire once imagined herself spending years working alongside the renowned staff at St. Thomas, even perhaps becoming actively engaged in the education of young nurses and midwives. But Frank’s decision to emigrate closed the door on her dream.

And now he was dead.

She faced the truth of her aloneness.  While for some this truth may have felt harsh, for Claire it was an awakening of all she had hidden away in her heart. The previous day, Glenna and Charles visited and offered to take her to the trading post in Arizona. While there was a closer trading post in New Mexico, they preferred Fraser’s Trading Post in Arizona, telling Claire of their high regard for the proprietor, James Fraser, a Scotsman who was known far and wide for his kindness and fairness to the homesteaders, as well as to the Navajo and Apache.

“Come with us, Claire. It will do good to be away from here for a few days, to see a bit more of the area, and to learn your way there.” Eventually, Glenna persuaded her to join them. “Ye will be amazed at the variety of items at the trading post. Everything ye want and need, and then some!”

They left early the next morning, the journey to Fraser’s taking about four hours. When they arrived at midday, Claire noted how beautiful and orderly the Trading Post appeared, situated as it was along the southern banks of the Pueblo Colorado Wash.

“I have yet to see so many people in one place since we left St. Louis,” Claire reflected. “Is the whole territory here?”

“It seems Mr. Fraser attracts traders from as far away as California,”  Charles informed her. “Folks seek out Fraser for his fair prices, as well as his uncanny ability to find whatever it is ye need. I have yet to leave the trading post disappointed.”

As she climbed down from the wagon, Claire noticed a tall man striding towards them, his air of confidence and warmth obvious even at first glance.

“Glenna, Charles, ’tis good tae see ye. And ye’ve brought a friend…” Jamie’s voice trailed off as his gaze  settled on Claire. Even after a long ride through the dust and heat, her beauty captivated him.

Before Glenna or Charles could make proper introductions, Claire reached out for Jamie’s outstretched hand. “Claire, I’m Claire Randall.”

“Nizhóní,” Jamie said quietly, not realizing Claire overheard the word she assumed was Navajo. It dawned on Jamie that this was the widow of Frank Randall, the Englishman accidentally killed a few months earlier. “Mistress Randall, I extend my deepest sympathies. Ye’ve suffered a great loss.”

“Thank you, Mr Fraser.” Claire realized they were still clasping each other’s hand, and reluctantly pulled away, but not before she noticed the color of Jamie’s eyes, a shade of blue like the ocean.

Glenna broke the awkward silence, asking Jamie about news from Scotland.

“Well, ye ken the news is always about 3 months old by the time it gets here, but my sister has given birth to her second bairn, and the farm is doing well, so they cannae complain.”

The three Scots conversed amiably, and as they walked into the trading post, Claire found herself drawn in by Jamie’s attentiveness to everyone and everything going on around him.

As they moved through the various rooms of the store, Claire noticed the Navajo women effortlessly working their looms. By now, Navajo weavers were well known throughout the territory for the beauty and quality of their rugs and blankets.

One of the weavers caught Claire’s eye and smiled, the kind of smile that immediately puts one at ease. “I am Haseya.”

“I’m Claire. I have never seen anything quite as beautiful as your weaving.”

Haseya’s gaze rested on her work, as she reached for another strand of wool to add to the loom. She explained the design as well as the significance of the various colors. As Haseya talked, Claire knew Jamie was hovering nearby, and she felt uncharacteristically happy. She had not known happiness for such a long time, so the feeling startled her. Before she even realized it, she found herself asking Haseya about learning how to weave. The Navajo woman clasped Claire’s hand, and motioned for Jamie to join them.

“I have a student weaver,” Haseya stated in the direct, yet soft, manner characteristic of the Navajo.

Jamie’s heart leapt, as he realized Claire would be a frequent guest at the trading post. He knew that it was quite uncommon for a Navajo weaver to teach weaving to a non-Navajo, but Haseya was known to have great wisdom and insight, so he surmised she realized Claire needed something to actively engage her senses.

So it was that Claire became an apprentice to Haseya, learning all aspects of rug making, from carding and spinning the wool, to the intricacies of the patterns, to mixing the various plants and herbs used to make colors for dying

She traveled from the homestead to the trading post twice each month, initially making the journey with Glenna and Charles, but eventually felt comfortable making the trek alone, much to Glenna’s dismay.

“I will be fine, Glenna. I have to learn to make my way, and I want to learn as much as I can before the baby comes.”

Glenna acquiesced, realizing the futility of arguing with Claire. Her journeys through the red rock cliffs and wide canyons gave her a sense of peace and contentment. Rather than being fearful about traveling alone, she relished the time to think. While the baby was always foremost in her thoughts, Jamie Fraser was never far from her stream of consciousness. Each trip, she spent three or four days working side-by-side with Haseya, who, unbeknownst to Claire, was considered by the Navajo to be their most skilled weaver.

After working with Haseya during the day, Claire found Jamie waiting for her most evenings, eager to talk about the comings and goings at the trading post, but even more eager to hear about her progress as an apprentice weaver. “I dinna ken how ye do it, Claire. Keepin’ the colors straight, and the patterns bein’ so complicated.”

“Once you get the image of the pattern in your head, it is fairly simple. And I find that weaving is all encompassing. While I am weaving, I’ve no thought about what will become of me, or the baby. And I suppose I am grateful for that…” Claire’s voice trailed off.

Jamie smiled and reached for Claire’s hand. “My mam always quoted scripture to us, and one of her favorites was ‘Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?’”

Over the next few months, each evening during Claire’s visits, they walked and talked, oblivious to the late hour, sharing stories of days gone by, gazing up at the stars, comfortable with the occasional periods of silence. Claire shared her hopes to eventually resume her nursing and midwifery work, maybe working with the Navajo and Apache, as well as caring for the homesteaders.

“I ken ye well enough, Claire. You can do anything, and quite well, I might add.”  He held her hand, accustomed as they were by now to being close to each other.

She found herself blushing at Jamie’s kind words. She was not accustomed to being praised. With Frank, there was near constant criticism, and disregard of her wishes.

Jamie reluctantly walked her back to the cabin she used during her visits, and almost before he realized it, he found himself saying, “I know ye havena been widowed so long, but life is different out here, and I ken propriety isna what it might be in England or Scotland. I would very much like to kiss ye, Claire. May I?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Claire turned toward him, her face lit up as though they were in bright sunlight. Frank never asked if he could kiss her. He always assumed that he was in complete control of their relationship.

“Yes, Jamie Fraser. Yes!”

And they both hoped and prayed that this was the first of a lifetime of kisses.

The next morning, while working in the weaving room, she told Jamie and Haseya that she would not be making the trek to the trading post for several months.  

“I reckon the baby is due in about a month.” She felt her heart break as she watched Jamie’s face. “What else am I to do, Jamie?”

He felt as though his heart had been pierced with a sword. He interrupted and asked her to walk with him to his home. She had been there a few times, visiting in the parlor, but she sensed his uneasiness and anxiety as they walked toward his front porch.

“Jamie, what is it? You know you can say anything to me.”

He took her hands in his, raising them to his lips and gently kissed each one.

“I��m honest enough to say that I dinna care what the right and wrong of it may be, so long as you are here wi’ me, Claire. I know it may not be proper to marry to ask you so soon after Frank’s death. But will you have me, Claire? Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

As she looked at him, she felt as though she was holding heaven in the palms of her hands. Her gaze turned toward the grassy field stretching between his home and the trading post. In her mind’s eye, she saw curly headed children running and playing, screeching with laughter as Jamie chased after them. She saw herself nursing a red-headed newborn as Haseya sat next to her, dying wool. She saw all of it, all of the beauty and joy of a life spent by Jamie’s side.

“Yes, James Fraser. Yes, I will marry you.”  

1 Month Later

Claire sat up in bed, carefully readjusting her curly haired baby girl, all of three hours old, already suckling at the breast. Haseya and the other Navajo women had attended her during the birth, and now, certain that she and the baby were healthy, they bid their farewells, assuring Jamie someone would be back in the evening to check on Claire and the newborn.

He settled in next to Claire on their bed, carefully enfolding her and the baby in a loving embrace. That Frank was the bairn’s father was of no consequence to him. He and Claire would raise the child, and Jamie knew that he was the child’s father, in every way that mattered.

“What name are we going to give her?” he asked, his eyes brimming with tears. Now that the bairn was finally here, he was grateful Claire had come through the labor and birth without any complications.

“There’s a word I have heard you say many times, but I’ve never asked what it meant,” Claire replied. “And it is not one of the Scots terms of endearment you use.”

“Hmm, well, I ken ye must mean Nizhóní.”

“Yes, that’s the word. What does it mean?’

“It means beautiful.”

Now it was Claire’s eyes that filled with tears, remembering Nizhóní was the first Navajo word she had ever heard Jamie speak.

“I want us to name her Nizhóní. Nizhóní Elizabeth Fraser.” Jamie pulled them closer, his wife and his bairn, gently stroking the face of the miracle who had just come into their lives.

And life was indeed beautiful.

[livingmybestfakelife]

Gospel Truth

Summary: You finally break Tommy after showing your true colors

inspired by the song Gospel Truth by Joseph J. Jones

gifs by @mistress-gif

When you woke up this morning it was freezing, it gave you a good boost to get out of bed and get on with your morning routine before heading out to work. You couldn’t wait to speak to Thomas about what had occurred last night, you weren’t there to witness the commotion but your daughter had vented to you about it, tears falling out of her big beautiful eyes that she inherited from you, she could hardly get any words out because she was so upset, her father had embarrassed her in front of a very important man that could be of importance to her future, one that even though had a clean record, was known to be respectful and trustworthy, Tommy just didn’t trust around his only child.

It took everything in you to not go up to his room and give him a good chewing out for doing what he promised you he wouldn’t do. But the house of full of guests wardering about, surely one of them would be nosey enough to put their ear up against the door to listen in, and last thing your baby girl neeeded was more embarrassment, so you decided to leave it alone...for the time being. Today was a big day, Selena would be leaving for university this afternoon so you and Tommy would be sending her on her way at the train station, but before all of that you both headed to work, he had left an hour before you did, you were also early so the office was empty except for the both of you, perfect, no one around to listen to you two bicker.

Your footsteps could be heard all the way in his office, he for some reason recognized your footsteps, “it has a certain rhythm” he once told you, you never understood that, it didn’t sound any different from any other woman, but he insisted that it was different, he just knew you way too well to misktake it for anyone else’s. It was unusual but it was him, he sighed and gulped down the rest of his whiskey before straightening up in his seat, preparing for your wrath he already knew was coming. As you entered the room he was hit in the face by a whisk of air caused by the swing of the door, your glare making him feel colder, the only other women that he ever intimidated by was his mother and Polly, then came you.

You were fourteen years old but had a mouth on you like a grown man, always prepared for a debate, a fight and had enough stamina to outrun any authoritative figure that tried to chase you down. It would be cliche to say that you were different from any other girl Tommy has ever met but it was the truth, besides your bold and brass personality, you were also the only girl Tommy knew who was being raised by a single father, your mum passing on when you were only eight years old, your dad taught you how to defend yourself from a very early age, knowing all too well how boys and men would try to take advantage of a beautiful young lady like yourself. Your relationship with your dad was one that he was jealous of, his own father being a coward and walking out on his own family not too long ago, but here you were with one that could’ve easily given up, and abandon you like most of them did, not wanting to be bothered with a child all by themselves, or remarrying just for someone to keep up with the house, but he didn’t do that either, he loved your mother too damn much to move on, he had all he needed with you, it was you two against the world, and Tom only wished that his own pop valued him and his siblings the same way.

Your personality from who were as child to today never changed, when you wanted to get your point across you’d do it loudly and dramatically, how else would these stubborn men listen to you. You walked into his office and closed the door with your foot, marching to one of the chairs in front of his desk, as you sit down you move your collar down and expose your neck a little, just enough to show him your trophy from the night before, something that you liked to do to taunt him, the faint bruise on your neck caused by an admirer that you invited up to you bedroom late last night, making sure to sneak him out quickly after you were done with him. He balled up a fist then unclenched it and let out a heavy sigh.

“Why do you insist on pissing me off?”

“Why do you insist on breaking your promises?”

“If this is about last n-“

“Of course it is, you told me that you wouldn’t do this Thomas, I’m holding out my end of the deal and I expect you to do the same”

“Oh, right, you are doing that aren’t you? Fucking a different simp every other night in my house”

“Oh fuck off, like you don’t have women who warm your bed every night, I deserve a good fuck as well”

“YN”

He says your name in a warning tone, he knows how easy it is for you to push his buttons and he hates himself for always falling into your trap and making himself look crazy. But that’s what you always did to him, you make him fucking insane, because he never fully had you, and you never fully gave your heart to him, your deepest secrets he had to learn from the grapevine, meanwhile he was spilling it all out for you, he’s done every he could think of to get you to understand how deep his love ran for you, he’s sacrificed, stole, lied and killed for you, one time right in front of you. Even after all of that, you still didn’t fully commit to him emotionally, sure you married him, but it still wasn’t enough, he didn’t feel anything on your end, now he understood how Lizzie and so many other of his “girlfriends” he had felt, to be willing to give anything just for a “I love you” but only getting crumbs in return.

“Look, as I said, I’m holding up my end of the deal, I agreed to move back in here for as long as you pay for Selena’s education, which is fucking insane”

“What’s so insane about it Yn? We both know that she isn’t mine”

“Thomas!”

“Well she isn’t, not biologically at least...listen to me, look I don’t mean to sound so cold alright, I love Selena like she was mine, hell I adopted her didn’t I? Gave her my last name, but...I”

“Wow, you’re so sad, the big tough Thomas Shelby having the nerve to call other men simps when he’s the biggest one of them all, too blind to see that I’ve been using you for security all these years, I mean men hell, might as well take advantage right, it’s not like you were getting the hint, you took me in when I was already seven months pregnant with another mans baby, a man you knew you couldn’t compete with because he had something you didn’t, and that was me, I actually had some feelings for the poor bastard and you couldn’t handle that, it tore you up didn’t it? That I was having his baby and not yours, that we were so close to getting married...well luckily for you he died in that club fire, then you had a chance to swoop me in, not that I could put up much of a fight, I was twenty one with no man to help me raise my child, you were my meal ticket Tom, my simpy little meal ticket-“

You cut yourself off when all of a sudden he pulled out his gun and shot it into the ceiling, his eyes were wide and dark, the dark circles under them making him look more like a mad man, for the first time in all your years of knowing him you were afraid of him, you had finally broke him after slowly chipping away at his heart, your rant breaking it apart completely, he felt nothing but anger and betrayal, you’ve played with him for too long, and now...well that hole in the ceiling tells you all you need to know. He lowers the gun and walks closer to you, you back away as far as you can only for him to grab your arm, pulling you up against his chest.

“Tommy, please”

“You’re begging, since when do you beg, that’s for dogs remember?”

“I’m- I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean it”

“Course you did, because it’s true, you played me like an instrument and I let you...because I love you”

“Y-you didn’t deserve it”

“I didn’t get what I deserved I got what I took, I took whatever I could get from you”

You reach over to take the gun from him and put the safety on, not trusting him with it for the moment, he’s breathing hard and beginning to sweat around his forehead, you wipe it away before kissing it, he melted at your comfort, even if it was your way of taming the beast he was being right now, your kisses and caresses were always warm.

There was a knock on the door that startled you out of the moment, you straightened him out before shoving his gun in your purse

“Come in”

The door opens to Selena walking in with a big smile on her face, she’s wear her brand new dress she purchased yesterday just for this day, wanting to make a good impression on the new people she would meet at school.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something, but I was just coming by to pick up my last check”

You smiled at her and walked over to his desk to pick up her check that you knew was already written out and signed, he had it prepared for her every Friday.

“Here you go baby, we’re gonna miss you here, especially your dad, you’re the best assistant he’s ever had and will ever get”

“Oh, I know”

She gives him a wink earning her a chuckle from, he reaches out to give her a big hug, the two of them being just as close as you were with your own dad, the both of you never told her about his adoption of her, and you’re not sure you ever would, maybe one day she’ll find out on her own, either way it wouldn’t change their relationship, she’s the only father she’s ever known.

“Okay, I just finished packing, I still have some things to do before I leave, I’ll meet you at Esmeralda’s Place for lunch and then we can head on to the train station, sound like a plan?”

“Sure, darling, it’s a plan”

He gives her a kiss on the cheek before she excitedly leaves the office with her check that would end up leaving her even more in glee once she see’s that he’d given her a three hundred pound bonus, he’s too good to her, always giving her more than you’ve ever asked of him, it made your guilt tear your heart and stomach apart, you would have to spend an extra half hour in church on Sunday begging for forgiveness.

At the moment you didn’t have anything to say, deciding to leave things where they were you went to leave, but not before he spoken up.

“We’re not done here YN, cancel your plans for tonight, we have a lot to talk about”

And by talk he means have dinner and then fuck, it’s how you settled almost all of your issues with each other, so his threatning tone had no effect on you.

“Of course Tommy, whatever you say”

You go to give him a soft peck on the cheek then leave to head to your own office, luckily Polly was just coming in, the awkwardness finally exiting the office building.

“Morning Aunt Polly”

“Morning honey...everything alright?”

“Fine, Selena going away is just making me a bit depressed is all, she grew up too fast”

“Yeah she did, don’t worry darling you’ll see each other again before you know it”

She pats your shoulder and walks to her office, you were glad that a tear that was about to fall from your eyes dropped after she walked away, the last thing you wanted to do was keep her from her work over the count of your emotions, you would need to toughen up a little more now, and keep your guard up more often, Tommy was no longer manipulable.

[khhunniewriting]

The Moon And Stars

[ Mafia/Gang AU ]

Warning: Suggestive and/or Mature content.

Note: This can be read alone but it is in The Others universe. It is recommended to read this between chapters 15 & 16.

The Quiett was busy, once again he was stuck in his office with a pile of documents to go over while everyone else galavanted around the city. Being the boss’ right-hand man had its perks but it obviously came at a price. 

The price was hard work and dedication.

Donggab had known Joonkyung for many years. Way back when Joonkyung’s father was still running Illionaire. At that time Donggab was the son of one of many bodyguards in the organization.

Joonkyung’s sheltered life within the group made it hard for him to socialize with others outside the business. That was how Donggab came to be his first friend. The two of them constantly crossed paths, with only a silent nod of their heads. One greeting a superior and the other acknowledging him.

Donggab still remembered the day Joonkyung finally broke the non-verbal communication. Joonkyung had just turned thirteen and was starting out in the offices of Illionaire where his father had him learn the accounting side of things.

Donggab was at his father’s side, following his every step until they got down to the lobby. His father got called to the boss’s side and was leaving him behind- like usual. 

“I’ll call your mother.”

Donggab understood the process and agreed to wait down in the lobby for his mother to arrive. She was just a normal housewife living lavishly off of his father’s salary. A beautiful refined young woman who was doted on by her loving husband and who doted on him equally. 

“Stay out of trouble,” Mr. Shin reminded him although he knew his son perfectly well.

“Got it,” Donggab waved him off and made way to the waiting area in the lobby.

Shortly after Joonkyung arrived and a chorus of greetings began. He was accompanied by a few guards but they kept their distance knowing the young boss didn’t like them breathing down his neck. 

In his hands, Joonkyung carried multiple plastic files, each containing financial information for the different businesses his father had entrusted to him. He envied the fact that his father had so many assistants and advisors who helped him. He, in turn, had no one but himself to rely on.

“Good morning, young boss.”

Joonkyung turned towards the voice that greeted him. Beyond her he spotted the quiet kid he hadn’t seen in a while. He was almost unsure it was him. He had suddenly grown and looked much more refined than before. 

“Mr. Kwon is that the quiet kid...?”

Mr. Kwon nodded in affirmation. He followed it up by reporting the reason he hadn’t been around was that he had recently enrolled in a new private school that required many hours of study.

Joonkyung hummed coming to the conclusion that he could be helpful, “So he’s smart.” He detoured his route to the elevator and stood in front of Donggab catching him off-guard.

“Hey kid...” Joonkyung began.

Donggab stood up ready to greet him but was quickly stopped when Joonkyung asked him whether he was good at math. “What?”

Joonkyung was momentarily thrown off by his voice. What was meant as an exclamation nearly got lost in the hustle and bustle of the lobby. Thinking to himself that even his voice was quiet, he shook it off and asked again. “Are you good with numbers?”

“I guess,” Donggab shrugged. He was a straight-A student, everything he did was considered good so he didn’t know whether he was particularly good at one thing. 

“Then come with me.” Joonkyung led the way while Donggab followed.

It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed that Donggab turned to him with a single brow raised. “You do know I’m older...”

Now he was forever stuck thoroughly going over every single piece of paper that made it to Joonkyung’s desk. And although part of him wanted to complain overall he felt properly compensated. 

He was nearly finished for the day when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

The door opened to reveal a beautiful woman with a smile that stopped his every move. It demanded his attention and he always readily gave it. 

“Luna, what are you doing here?”

Luna was a money mule. She transferred illegally acquired money on behalf of Illionaire at the direction of The Quiett. She expertly moved money electronically through bank accounts and moved physical currency through a variety of other methods. 

She was on the FBI’s most-wanted list. Luna wasn’t even her real name, only an alias.

“If I don’t come here then I’ll never see you,” she coyly smiled making her way over to him. She stood behind him wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his temple. “I know I said I loved a hard-working man but you seem to love work more than me.” 

He sighed feeling far more relaxed hearing her voice, having her arms around him. It had been many weeks since he last saw her. His head turned to his shoulder where her left hand was holding. He eyed the diamond ring on her finger before bringing her soft hand to his lips. There were so many things going on that he nearly forgot his lovely fiance. 

“I love you more than anything.”

She happily smiled hearing her favorite line. “Then why don’t you come home to me?”

Donggab honestly didn’t know she was home. He thought she had been in Switzerland checking on their various accounts. 

“When did you get home?”

“Yesterday,” she admitted. It was hardly long enough for her to complain about his absence but she was feeling...needy. “But I missed you so much,” she seductively whispered making her voice far more breathy than usual. 

The Quiett stiffened, his mind immediately recalling when he had to stand outside Joonkyung’s office and hear his passionate entanglement. “We don’t have to go home,” he suggested looking down at the situation.

Luna giggled coquettishly, ”So you did miss me.”

Although he suggested it Luna was the one to initiate the first kiss. She pulled him up to stand in front of her. Her hands went to his guiding him to hold her.

The Quiett got the hint and lifted her up so she could have easier access to his lips.

Luna gave him a cute small peck and smiled before going back for another, this time she made sure to kiss him properly, making good use of both their lips and tongues.

It had been a while so she pulled away with slight laughter. “It tickles,” she commented while taking a hold of his chin. The small hairs of his goatee were surprisingly soft and caused a ticklish sensation when they rubbed against her.

Eventually, she would get used to it and further down the process, if things got too rough, they would sting slightly causing her supple skin to redden- leaving behind a reminder of their actions.

She continued to kiss him while her hands loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. He wasn’t always dressed so formally leading her to believe he had matters to attend. “Going somewhere?”

Donggab nodded, “I have to meet the lawyers.”

Interested in catching up to the latest information Luna set his lips free. “Who’s in trouble this time?”

“Kylie.”

Luna froze for a moment at the mention of the boss’s wife. “What did that b*tch do now?”

There was too much to explain and right now Donggab didn’t have the mind for conversation. “I’ll tell you later.”

Luna’s mood increased seeing how Donggab didn’t warn her to not talk ill of the boss’s wife. Even if Donggab had no personal opinion on Kylie he was always strict on the rules. He reminded Luna to never badmouth the Lady of the group. In her mind, she knew it had to be something big for him to not bother.

“Promise?”

He said nothing, only began to kiss her neck wishing for things to proceed. 

And proceed they did.

No matter how far into the moment he was Donggab remained a gentleman. He made sure to take everything into consideration. That’s why he stopped short of the main event. His face darkening as he recalled not having carried any square foils when his fiance was away.

Seeing his troubled face made her laugh. “Don’t worry...” her words were ambiguous. To him, it sounded as if she were giving him the go-ahead because it was a safe day but in reality, she knew there was no point in further preventing pregnancy when she was already pregnant.

She wasn’t one hundred percent sure but all signs pointed to that answer. Her missed cycle was the most damning evidence when she had been regular all her life. She rushed her trip and came back home the day she woke up running for the toilet to empty her stomach. 

In her mind she wanted to tell him but what was the point of raising alarms if she wasn’t certain. They were committed to each other and although they hadn’t talked about children yet it was implied that they both favored the idea. Donggab was always fond of Ji-hoon (Joonkyung’s son) and Luna casually asked him to call her auntie whenever they ran into each other.

With his fiance’s go ahead Donggab proceeded to satisfy his lust.

“Ah-” Luna’s moan was cut off by Donggab’s lips. Unlike Joonkyung he wasn’t particularly pleased with the fact that others could hear what was only for his ears.

“Shhh...” he silenced her, his finger lightly pressed against her swollen lips. “That sound is only for me.”

Luna readily nodded before biting her own lip to suppress her auditory reactions.

In the end, there was a sharp inhale as she felt the love of her life hit a certain spot that had her seeing stars.

“Donggab-” she huskily whispered.

\\\

After their reunion, Donggab resumed his work. Luna helped him all the while hearing what had happened in her time of absence.

She gasped and awed at the fact that there was another young boss. “What’s his name?”

“Lee Leo,” Donggab responded. “We were all surprised but it was obvious back then- the boss had more affection for his mistress than his wife.”

Luna nodded in agreement recalling back in the day when Donggab would mention their boss’s affair. She recalled how brutal Joonkyung was towards everyone after she left. No one knew his actions were caused by his other woman leaving. Only those close enough knew of his affair, to begin with. He had been good at hiding it.

“I’m warning you now, my love, if you ever think about another woman-”

Donggab immediately dismissed the thought. Grabbing her hand and pulling her close to him. “I would never love anyone else but you.”

Luna smirked, “Of course you can only love me.” She would never let go of him. She would blind any woman who dared to lay their eyes on him and kill any woman who dared to touch him.

Even before she started dating Donggab, the number of women who suddenly became blind seemed to increase in the city. Even in the building, there was one female employee who wore an eyepatch. Luna had been lenient with her and only slashed one of her eyes as a warning since they both worked for Illionaire.

The Quiett was aware of Luna’s possessive nature and warned the women who tried to approach him. He didn’t warn them out of pity but out of consideration for his fiance. He didn’t want her becoming a murderer.

They loved each other very much and worked well together- the definition of a power couple.

When Beenzino dropped by Illionaire he was startled to see Luna and Donggab walking out of the elevator hand in hand. Before he could say anything he was being hugged by Luna.

“Beenz you did such a good job.” Luna smiled up at the tall man happy that he had managed to find the second young boss.

Luna was glad to hear the boss was planning on divorcing Kylie after finding his mistress. Kylie was always trying to enforce her father’s outdated rules onto Illionaire. The worst of which was keeping all the staff male to keep from having any workplace affairs. If she had gotten her way Luna would have been out of a job. “I always knew the boss could do better.”

“Thanks...I guess?” He dismissed his own confusion and returned to the matter at hand. “But we can’t get rid of her unless I can get proof that Jia is Swings’ daughter.”

“Can I help?” Since Donggab had things to do Luna was going back home. If the chance to have a hand in Kylie’s downfall presented itself then she would readily lend a hand.

Beenz looked to Donggab wondering if it was okay to have her assist him.

Donggab nodded his head letting Beenz know it was okay. “She’ll be bored at home if she has nothing to do.” 

With that Luna was off lending her help to the "get rid of kylie team’. Yet, in the back of her mind, she reminded herself to make time to visit the doctors at Illionaire when Donggab wasn’t around. She couldn’t trust the six pregnancy tests that showed mixed signs of positives, negatives, and inconclusive. 

-end-

A/N: Let me know what you think of this side story ^^

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 33

Next part is the last part. 

Master post linked here

Enjoy. 

__________________________

Sister?

I stared up at Edith, a little dazed, my mind racing as I tried to put the pieces together. My silence didn’t frustrate her, however. It seemed to amuse her as she watched me, her smile growing wider.

“Let me tell you a story.” She called out, and an expressionless man dressed as a bandit brought over a chair for her to sit on. She was so close that our knees were almost touching. It made me want to kick out, to hurt her, but my legs were too tightly bound to do more than shift the chair. 

“There once was a handsome young man, the only son of a Duke. He was smart and hard-working, caring deeply about those around him. His father, the Duke viewed him with great pride, thinking how his legacy would continue to grow under such a capable son.” She continued to smile, but her gaze was cold as she studied me slowly. “The young man fell in love, with a girl who grew up by his side. Her status was a little low, but she was beautiful and kind, and he loved her deeply. Even his parents could not object to their engagement. Everything was perfect.”

She stood up suddenly, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor grating on my ears. “But one day, startling news arrived. The crown prince had broken his engagement with the daughter of one of the larger duchies, to marry a foreign princess. The woman was reportedly heartbroken.” Edith sneered at the last sentence, her eyes on me growing more hostile. “She didn’t mourn for long, however. She insisted she be married to the highest ranked noble in the kingdom. And who could that be other than the young handsome man?”

My hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into my palms. I discretely tried to continue pulling at the ropes, but all I managed to do was tear the skin at my wrists, the warm blood soaking the bonds.

“He protested of course. As did his precious little sweetheart.” She laughed bitterly. “But none of that meant anything to that cold hearted woman. Her family forced the marriage, and the lovers were separated… at least officially.”

Edith had wandered towards the back of the room, beyond the candlelight. Slowly she returned, but this time something was clutched in her hand, causing me to freeze with fear.

A knife.

 “They still saw each other… for a time. Until the childhood sweetheart learned she was pregnant.” She gently touched the tip of the knife, as if testing it. “Perhaps he could have divorced the scheming woman who forced him into marriage, but not too long after, it was revealed that she was pregnant as well.”

I stared at Edith and the knife in her hand, almost hypnotized as she turned it over and over in her hands. I didn’t speak, I didn’t know what to say.

“A pregnant wife with a legal child, and a pregnant mistress with a bastard. Who do you think won?” She laughed again, but the sound was painful. “The sweetheart married a count, and passed the daughter born as his own, only revealing the truth to the daughter when she grew older.”

I stared down at the floor, thinking of the beautiful smiling woman I had known as the Countess of Erand and tried to reconcile that image with the bitter betrayed woman Edith described, unable to. I thought of  my mother’s accusations and coldness, my father’s guilt. What was it that he had said to me during our last conversation?

“We all have our sins, Lenora. Some of us are just still waiting to pay the price for them.”

“You’re my father’s daughter.” I studied her curiously, her delicate features greatly resembled her mother, we looked nothing alike.

Edith stood up straight. “I am the Duke’s eldest child.” Her eyes were disdainful as she looked back at me. “You are nothing. A thief. A fraud. Just like your mother, who stole father from us.” 

“I hate you.” She whispered crouching down, the knife in her hand pointing towards my face. “I’ve always hated you! Everything you have should have been mine!! Your home! Your title! Your dresses and jewelry! They all were meant to be in my hands!”

The knife crept closer, and her face distorted as she continued. “The Queen should have loved me! The engagement should always have been mine! I WAS MEANT TO BE THE FUTURE QUEEN!”

“But you have the engagement.” I answered softly. “You will be queen.”

She hesitated at that. “I thought so too.. I thought everything was going well! But then Ronan started talking about making me the MISTRESS!!!!” She was screaming now, the knife only a short distance away from my neck shaking back and forth. “I would be the mistress and YOU would be Queen! WHY? Just because you were born to the right woman?! HOW DARE THEY?!”

Edith shook her head slowly. “But then, just as I was giving up hope… you gave him to me. Arranged for us to be engaged.” She smiled. “I always thought I would be happy on the day I took him from you completely, but I found out that the opposite was true.”

The tip of the knife dug slightly into the skin of my throat, only the slightest increase in pressure needed to break the skin. “I didn’t want him. I wanted what you had. I wanted to TAKE it from you!”

Her hand reached out, finding the necklace I almost always wore under my clothes, the present from the Queen. The golden chain and blue amulet shined in the candlelight as she pulled it out. With a sharp tug the chain broke and the necklace fell to the floor.

“To watch you scream and cry and beg for mercy as I stole back everything that was mine! I wanted you on the streets begging, starving for scraps, staring up at me who had gained everything you lost!”

She had done that, though… at least in a previous life. I looked at the necklace on the ground, my heart cold.

“So you followed me to Tilendria. But it didn’t work out.”

Edith paused. “That was… a miscalculation. But when I heard that you were happy there... I just couldn’t stay away.”

“Who told you I was happy?”

She ignored me, continuing to talk. “When I failed, I knew I needed to work harder. To completely crush every one of your dreams and kill you with my own hands.” She laughed, her eyes wild. “I hired bandits to attack the Tilendrian border to lure out that useless prince, and then tried to find a way to get you here. But then the easiest way unexpectedly fell into my lap...”

She pulled the knife away, letting me breathe a sigh of relief, and motioned to something beyond the room. Two men dressed as bandits walked in, carrying an unconscious woman. She was bruised, her clothes dirty, one eye swelled shut, but the face was still recognizable.

Angela.

“What did you…?” I started to ask, but Edith interrupted, laughing.

“Not me, but you! I caught the little traitor trying to send you a warning about my plans.” She shook her head sadly. “Good help is very hard to find. I don’t know how you convinced her to switch sides, obviously it didn’t work out well for her. But it worked in my favor in the end. A simple change to the message, and here you ran. Straight into my trap.”

I ignored Edith for a moment, watching Angela closely. Finally, I let out a relieved sigh, having saw that she was still breathing. She was injured but alive. I needed to get her to help, but i wasn’t even certain of my own fate right now. As i thought this over, Edith spoke up again, recapturing my attention.

“I’ve got your little spy, my bandits will take out your foolish prince. And now?” She bent down again, one hand grasping my chin and pulling it up. Her fingernails dug into the skin of my face, a small piercing pain. “I’m going to cut your throat, and watch you die.”

The knife was at my neck again, the pressure slowly increasing. She whispered again, directly into my ear.

“I can’t wait to see the life fade from your eyes. Do you think father recognize me as his true daughter then?”

I looked up at the ceiling thinking over her words. And slowly I laughed.

“WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!” The sound of her shouting nearly deafened me. The knife pricked the skin at my throat, a thin trail of blood running down and soaking my collar. 

“Do you really think you hired bandits?” I asked, “Are you really that stupid?”

She paused, pulling back enough to look into my eyes. “I did hire bandits! They’re here! And a whole group at the border to attack your prince!” 

I smiled, ignoring the pain from her grip, from her knife. “They’re Reterland’s secret force, directly from the king. He’s using you.”

“What? You’re lying!” She looked around the room, and then glared at me.

“They really are.” I laughed again, until tears ran down my face. “You thought you were so clever, but he’s played you like a child! If you kill the prince, he blames you. If you kill me, he blames you. He would love to see both of us dead, and to use someone else to do it. But in the end, even if you fail he’ll still have accomplished one of his goals:”

I leaned forward just a tiny bit, ignoring the increasing pain at the knifepoint. “He’ll have branded you as a criminal and will break the engagement with Ronan.”

“NO! That’s not true! No one knows what I’ve done! Except…” She stared uncertainly off to the side, where the men who had brought Angela had disappeared.

“Except for the men you thought were bandits, but actually work for the king.” I sighed. “A great chance for him, kill two of his enemies and get rid of a burden all with one shot.”

“NO! SHUT UP!” She tightened her grip on the knife, her face drawing back into a snarl. “I’ve WON! You’re the one at my mercy! Nothing you say will change that.” Her gaze sharpened. “Now it’s time for you to die.”

“STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!” 

A figure rushed out, tackling Edith, knocking the knife from her hands. Behind her a group of armed men both personal armed guards of the Queen and guardsmen from the duchy of Armeny followed inside, securing the screaming girl and tying her up.

“NO! I WON! I WON! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Edith screamed, struggling. “I’M THE DAUGHTER OF A DUKE! YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME.”

“Gag her.” A woman’s voice coldly ordered, and the men quickly carried it out. Before I could truly register what was happening, the figure bent down and embraced me tightly.

“Lenora! You’re okay!”

I was shocked. It was the Queen. “Your Ma-“ I paused, correcting. “Mother?”

She leaned back, her face tired and drawn but happy. “I found you!”

__________________________

“Your Majesty.” One of the guards called out, his face stern. “You promised that if we brought you along you would only come in at the end, after it was safe!” 

The Queen snorted. “That means nothing, my daughter was in danger. Now help me cut her bonds.”

They cut me loose, another taking Angela’s unconscious form and bringing her out to be treated. I reached out, hugging the Queen tightly. “How…?”

“Hallers.” She answered my unfinished question. “They had left him for dead, but he survived  their attack and came straight to the palace. Your… spy network…” She grinned at me. “Had found a secret home bought by that wretched girl, and so we came here first.”

“Thank you for the rescue!” I smiled back, but her expression was already serious. Her hand reached out, gently touching the wound on my neck.

“Sorry we were late.”

I spread my arms. “I’m still in one piece! All thanks to you and Hallers.” I looked around. “Where is he?”

“He was injured.” The Queen shook her head. “We told him to stay behind.”

“MMMMIIIIISSSS!”

 A long shout echoed in the dark room as a man jumped out to tightly hug me. To my shock it was a bloody and disheveled Hallers, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

“How dare you get into danger!  You’re never going out without ten… no a hundred guards! How could they do this?!!!!” 

I reached out, patting him gently on the back. “Thank you, Hallers.”

At my soft words he started, staring at me in shock, before clearing his throat and standing up, the perfect picture of a butler despite his torn, bloody clothes and tear-stained face. “As long you are safe now.”

I reached out and hugged him again, and slowly, his façade crumbled again, and he just silently held on, a trembling hand patting my head.

After a while, I turned to the Queen, who was smiling at the two of us, tears in her eyes as well. “Mother… I think we need to talk.”

She nodded slowly. “But let’s leave here first and get you checked by a doctor. As for Edith…” She paused, “Throw her in the dungeon.”

I reached down, picking up the broken necklace on the floor. She saw my expression, and reached out, touching my hand with a smile. “It can be fixed.” 

I studied it closely, tucking it away in my pockets. I had lost it in my first life, sold it for bread. As a precious gift from my mother, I wanted to hold onto it in this life.

We left the dark room, and headed for one of the Queen’s rooms.

__________________________

After bullying Hallers into going into a room from treatment, and getting my own small wound bandaged, the Queen and I sat down for tea.

“What do you need to tell me?” She asked calmly, although her hands trembled slightly as she lifted the cup to her lips.

I looked at her, at the woman I had claimed as my mother, silently for a few moments. She had always loved me, in this life and the last… and I loved her too.

I needed to tell her the truth.

“It’s a long story, and a strange one.” Seeing her encouraging smile, I took a deep breath and I began to talk.

And I told her everything. Edith and her true origins. The King’s schemes.

My past life.

Tears silently spilled down as I described how I lost hope in my last lifetime. How, believing she had hated me, I had died alone and friendless. I explained how I had worked to change the future in this lifetime, unintentionally still almost bringing about my death at the hands of my half-sister.

By the end, my voice was hoarse, and I was so tired I could barely lift the cup in my hand. But still I felt nervous, staring at the now silent Queen.

“Do you believe me?” I whispered, unable to look at her for fear of what I would see on her face.

“My dear girl.” A hand reached out, touching my head. “My darling daughter. You’ve suffered.”

She pulled me into a hug, tears soaking my hair as her head rested on mine. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do…”

“No, but you’ve lived all these years thinking I didn’t care for you.” Her arms tightened. “How much pain you’ve endured… I can’t imagine it.”

“…” I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to make her feel worse.

 “I love you.” When she spoke again, the words were simple, but they caught at my heart.

“I love you too, Mother.”

__________________________

After a while our conversation turned to what would happen next.

“The King won’t just let you go.” Her face was worried as she thought. “We need to settle this, so that you can be free.” 

“Don’t worry.” 

I sighed, calling in Rig’s second in command. “I need the ‘Final Measure.’” 

His eyes widened briefly, before his face resumed its former calm. “Yes, Miss.”

The Queen stared after his retreating back, obviously confused. “What is that?” 

I smiled. “I made a plan, in case he went too far and left me no choice.” Shaking my head, I continued. “With the last attempt on my life, and this using Edith… I have to do this, but…” I looked up at her. “I’ll have to leave Reterand. I won’t be able to come back if I do this.”

She nodded gravely. “I understand. As long as you’re safe.” Standing up, she pulled a letter out of a drawer, handing it to me. “I would recommend Tilendria, if you’re thinking of somewhere to live long-term. I received this earlier today. I think you should see it.”

I looked down, reading the letter with a silly grin.

__________________________

To Queen Amerande.

I have been called to the border to fight bandits, leaving our precious person behind. I have taken every precaution and hope to return safely. But no one can no the future, and so I wish to say this:

I love your daughter very much. If I return I will gather my courage and ask her to marry me.

She may refuse me. She has been hurt, and closed her heart to love. I am not so arrogant as to think that my feelings can heal that.

Either way, my heart will not change. If she says yes, I will happily become your son-in-law and invite you to live with us. If she says no, then I will continue to help her with all my strength, and ask that you help her to live a happy life as I love her from afar. 

I’m more terrified of this than of fighting bandits. What does this say about me?

Best regards, 

Nathaniel

__________________________

“How can he always confess his feelings about me so clearly only to other people?” I grumbled, looking up at the Queen while she laughed.

I paused, studying the letter again. “I hope he’s safe.” I thought of Edith’s words, of the group of armed men at the border, and felt a pain in my chest. What if he was hurt? Or...

She reached out and held my hand. “Trust him. He’s capable. He’ll do his best to get back safely to you. But when he does...” She hesitated.

“Do you love him?” Her question was simple, so much so that I couldn’t help but answer honestly.

“Yes.”

“That’s good then.” She grinned. “Don’t think you’ll be rid of me after you get married.” 

“Didn’t you read it?” I shook the paper slightly. “You’re living with us!”

 “If only it were that easy…” Her sad words were interrupted by an annoying shout.

“MOTHER!” 

Both of us sighed, as the footsteps grew closer. “WHY did you imprison Ed…” Ronan paused, staring in horror at me. “YOU! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

I laughed. “Yes, how dare I survive a kidnapping and murder attempt? All my fault.” 

“If you weren’t so terrible how else would my lovely Edith…” He shook his head. “You set her up!”

I looked over at the Queen who was staring at her son with a disappointed expression Standing up, I walked closer, startling Ronan who took a few steps back, but not quickly enough.

BAM!

I punched him in the face, watching in satisfaction as he fell to the floor.

He held his cheek, his eyes filled with shock.

“You are a worthless coward. That’s for trying to drug me at the Queen’s party as well as all your other insults over the years. You and Edith deserve each other. But... just so you know…” I leaned forward, whispering with a smile. “She never loved you. You were only ever a tool to hurt me.”

“No! You’re lying.”

I smiled.  “If you don’t believe me, ask someone from the Tilendria court how she acted there. You’ll get your answer there.”

I waved, walking on before pausing and looking at the Queen. “I will take care of everything, Mother. Just pack your bags and wait for me.”

I left smiling.

After so long of working stealthily against each other in the shadows, it was time to directly confront the King head on. He thought he knew the enemy he had made. I was about to show him the reality of his mistakes.

It was time to move forward.

[victoirebisset]

[ VICTOIRE ELISE BISSET. 28. CISFEMALE. SHE/HER] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ SIX MONTHS ] and are originally from [ WELLESLEY, MASSACHUSETTS  ]. They are a [ PUBLICIST ] and in their downtime love [ CATCHING A MOVIE AT CINEMA PARADISO ] and [ ENJOYING A NICE BOTTLE OF RED WINE ]. They look a lot like [ ELIZABETH OLSEN ] and live [ ON SILVERWOOD TERRACE ]. 

the basics

full name: victoire elise bisset.

nicknames: v or vic. never, and i do mean never, vicky.

birthplace: wellesley, massachusetts.

birthdate: january 9th, 1992.

zodiac sign: capricorn. 

alignment: chaotic good.

personality type:  estj.

personality traits: dogmatic, loquacious, reliable, patient, rancorous, affable, critical & forthright.

gender: cisfemale.

sexual / romantic orientation: heterosexual / heteroromantic. 

the biography

-

the daughter to a (now) disgraced politician coming from old money and a disgruntled, yet loyal to a fault, housewife, there was never a time victoire didn’t know luxury  — or chaos. 

as a matter of fact, her entrance to the world was an example of both. the first  — and what would ultimately be only — child to gabriel and nicolette bisset, there was no expense spared as they prepared for her arrival; hundreds of designer onesies she’d grow out of within weeks were purchased, an italian artist flown in and commissioned to hand paint a mural in her nursery and her mother only received the finest of prenatal care. for most, it was an ostentatious display that was NOT needed. but that has always been the bisset way. flamboyant and shameless flaunting of their wealth was the norm as it was, so of course they’d go all out when expecting a baby.

at the same time, there was a certain level of disappointment. as far as her father went, at least. he had been hoping for a son to follow in his footsteps. but, he’d tell his wife in an attempt to convince them both, a little girl wasn’t so bad  — he’d love, cherish and spoil her regardless. and he did do at least two of those three things. but that son he’d been hoping for never came. once victoire was born, his wife refused to let him touch her. he assumed it was “baby hormones” but really it was because hours before her baby shower, nicolette had received a call from one of his mistresses confessing the affair because she felt “bad” knowing she was pregnant. nicolette never confronted her husband but their relationship was never the same.

growing up in the lapse of luxury, most would assume vic had nothing to complain about. while her material needs were always met, the emotional ones were often neglected. her mother, bless her heart, tried. but it wasn’t easy for her. nicolette was responsible for raising their child and presenting the bissets as the picture perfect family all while knowing her husband was fucking around on her. who wouldn’t become resentful dealing with that? snide comments were thrown across the dinner table, there were times she’d disappear in her room with a bottle of wine. she’d try to be there for her daughter as much as she could but she struggled. and her father, on the other hand, focused more on his career than his family. a lawyer turned politician, he campaigned, had frequent business meetings and a long list of secret lovers to split his time between. hard to be present with a schedule like that. 

gabriel’s career choice was confusing for young victoire. there were those that publicly villainized him and thought he was the devil. there were those that put him on a pedestal. it was overwhelming... and alluring. her father was the mayor of wellesley her entire life and was even campaigning for senate when the “scandal” happened. it was always a part of her life and politics intrigued her. she’d dreamed of being the first woman president. 

her father vowed to help her get into politics and the first step of that was hiring her to be his publicist as soon as she graduated from college. it was a blatant act of nepotism but at least she was really freakin’ good at her job. she gets word accusations of bribery would be hitting the local news and that same day there’s a press conference so shots of him shaking hands, kissing babies and making grand promises distracts from the news. his morality is called into question and he’s front and center campaigning for every local charity for six months. it was a bit grimey witnessing fully the seedy underbelly of politics and her idealistic view of it changed drastically. she no longer wanted to be president or a senator or anything else like that. she did, though, learn she really did like pr and enjoyed the role she had. at least until she was expected to pay off her father’s pregnant mistress who was threatening to spill the beans about their illicit affair.

while her mother had known about his infidelities for years, vic had no clue. she always assumed her father was working. that was why he couldn’t come to her recitals or presentations in school. that was why he was late to every single one of her birthday parties. she had convinced herself that her father wasn’t a scumbag but a highly ambitious politician and anyone else in his position would do the same.

to an extent, she had idolized her father  — glorifying the parent who was never really there and whose approval she would have died to get. the version of him she had created was destroyed. she was furious, heartbroken and confused. she quit that very day and a week later, the news broke. that one woman speaking out opened the floodgates and years of affairs and other naughty behavior was broadcasted across the state. her mother would have made tammy wynette proud with how she stood by her man but victoire did not follow suit. she worked in public relations so she never outright spoke against him because no one would hire her after publicly blasting a former client in the press. even if it was her father. but she knew how to expertly throw shade. and she did. quite a few times, actually. 

after she quit, victoire ended up in new york where she worked with a pr firm for a couple of years before getting a job with a more prestigious one in los angeles which prompted her move to silver lake. it’s been surprisingly difficult for her to adjust to life on the west coast. she’s a new england girl through and through and there’s just something about palm trees and sunshine that feels wrong. she also just really misses her family. well, just her mother really. they make do by facetiming twice a week and they’re even in the middle of discussing flying her out for the holidays. unfortunately, though, it’s unlikely to happen as her mother is insistent on bringing gabriel. victoire hasn’t seen or spoken to her father since the day she told him to go fuck himself and stormed out of his office. not because of any guilt from “abandoning” her father. — she’d add ‘essentially ruined my father’s political career’ to her resume if she thought it’d help her —  but because she is still so damn angry. the closest thing to contact they have is him wiring her money every month. this “allowance” isn’t really needed, victoire makes a very good living without needing any of what she calls bisset blood money. but she allows it to continue because she considers it restitution for decades of lackluster parenting and lies.

where victoire really shines is her career. she’s relatively new to the scene  — at least compared to most publicists in hollywood  — with only seven years of experience under her belt but don’t confuse quantity with quality. if you are a public figure, you want vic on your team. she’s tenacious and, while some may view her methods as underhanded, there is no story she can’t get ahead of. and if she can’t distract from it entirely, she can turn it into a positive or at least paint her client as the victim. duis, public disagreements with significant others, leaked sex tapes. she’s seen it all. she’d dedicated to the cause and makes up her own rules, but also has a strict moral code so she won’t do something or work with someone that goes against that.

victoire thrives in social situations and really loves to hear herself talk. she also tends to assume she’s the smartest person in the room and just expects everyone to go along with what she says. and she doesn’t really handle it well when that doesn’t happen. some may say she’s stubborn, she says she’s a leader who likes to take charge and handle things. she’s a very honest and straightforward person who is clear about her intentions in a relationship whether it’s professional, platonic or romantic. she doesn’t play games, she’s not wishy-washy and she has a tendency to see the world in black and white. 

coming from a long line of elitists, vic is proud to say that is at least one pattern she broke. she just isn’t one to parade around her wealth. yes, she has a nice house and she does tend to favor designer brands when it comes to clothing, but there really isn’t anything pretentious about her. the closest you’ll get is her having dinner at a five star restaurant or buying a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine. but that’s only because she likes good food and even better wine. she’s not one to show off and is just as likely to be seen at a fancy hollywood party mingling with clients as she is laying on her couch, wrapped up in blankets and watching golden girls reruns. she’s a combination of dorothy and blanche, by the way. 

-

anyways, i think this is long enough so i’ll wrap it up and just say i am excited to be here and that i look forward to writing with you all. i’ll be reaching out to everyone regarding plots at some point (i say some point because i’m a slow typer with a small attention span who is currently working 60 hours a week so i’m easily distracted AND tired) but you can expedite the process by sending me a message or liking this and i’ll put you at the top of my list. in the meantime, though, feel free to just assume connections. we can go with the flow and i don’t require connections before interacting anyway. aaaand now i’m really stopping! 

[multibookfanwriter]

they never found Alyss’s body therefore she is still alive

Will and Alyss ran, giggling, into their bedroom. It was Will’s birthday and they had just been at Jenny’s restaurant, celebrating with Halt, Pauline, Jenny and Gilan. Gilan had come all the way from castle Araluen to wish Will a happy birthday. They had all shared a cask of wine and by the time they left it was empty. Will pulled his belt off and left it on the bedside table. Alyss unbuttoned Will’s shirt then pulled off her own dress. Will got tangled in the blankets and fell out of the bed, making Alyss laugh until she threw up.

Alyss woke with a start when she heard Sean calling her. “Mummy! Mummy, I’m scared.”

She walked over to his bed in the corner of the room. “It’s alright, Honey, I’m right here.” As she talked, she picked up her son and hugged him.

It had been two weeks since Lilian died. Sean had seen the body. Every night since then, Sean had woken up with nightmares. More than three years ago, Alyss had stumbled into the small village. She was covered in burns and had no memory of the past ten years. Lilian was the closest friend to Alyss in the village. She had taken Alyss in and helped her get her memories back. Most nights Alyss had dreams of her adventures with Will. Lilian had left all her possessions to Alyss in her will, including the house.  As soon as she could sell the house, she was going to move back to Redmont.

The house was sold within the week. Alyss packed all their belongings into a bag, bought a horse with some of the money from the house, and they rode all day for weeks to get to Redmont. Whenever they could, they stayed at an inn.

When she finally got to Redmont, it was almost midnight. Sean was curled up on Alyss’s lap and she didn’t want to ride through the dark forest alone. Instead she went to Jenny’s restaurant. She took Sean in with her, still asleep. It was almost empty with only one man finishing his meal at the back of the room. As she was standing in the doorway, he finished his supper and brushed past her on his way out the door. Alyss walked to the counter and asked for Jenny. The waiter told her the restaurant was closed.

“Just tell Jenny that I’m here. When she sees me, she will know me. My name is Alyss.”

The waiter shrugged and walked to the back room where Jenny was directing the cleaning. “there is a woman at the counter claiming that you know her. Her name is Alyss.”

Jenny wiped her hands on her apron and moved to the front of the building. “Alyss? She can’t be Alyss. She’s dead. But she looks exactly like her. And Alyss hasn’t got a baby,” she muttered.

“A lot has changed in the last three years, after I was trapped in the fire, three months after Will’s birthday, four years ago. That was the best apple pie I ever had, by the way. The one you made for Will’s birthday.” Alyss overheard Jenny’s muttering.

“so, you really are my Alyss? I’ll have to send someone to get Will!” Jenny walked out and found one of her new apprentices. “Get the Ranger. Tell him that I sent you and to come here immediately. It is urgent.”

The apprentice ran outside, saddled a horse and rode out to the cabin in the trees.

Will heard Tug and Bumper whinny and woke. In the next room, Maddie did the same. They donned their belts with their double knife scabbard and walked to the front door. Will opened the door before the apprentice could knock. “what do you want?”

“Mistress Jenny sent me to get you. She said it was urgent and you have to come immediately.”

“we’ll be there in a few minutes. You can go now.” The apprentice mounted his horse and rode back to the restaurant. Will turned to Maddie, “get dressed and string your bow. We are going to Jenny’s.”

Five minutes later they walked out to the stable and saddled their horses. They rode down the dark path in silence. Jenny was waiting just inside the restaurant door and when she saw the Ranger and his apprentice, she stepped out and hugged them both. She had a huge grin on her face, and they could both see she was bursting with excitement. Jenny grabbed Will’s hand and pulled him inside, Maddie followed a few steps behind them. Jenny led them to a back room. Inside, a woman was sitting on a bench as a toddler ran around her legs. She had her back to them, but she looked strangely familiar.

Alyss turned and saw Will. He just stood there as he registered who was now hugging him and then he lifted her up and spun her in a small circle. She laughed in excitement. They stopped spinning and just stood there hugging and crying. After a couple of minutes, Maddie broke the silence. “Alyss? How is this possible? You… died. Four years ago.”

Alyss looked at her. She saw the double knife scabbard at her waist, the mottled cloak and the recurve bow over her shoulder. “Maddie! Are you a Ranger now?”

Maddie nodded. “Will’s apprentice.”

Alyss held her at arm’s length. “You’ve grown so much since I saw you last. You’re almost twenty now, aren’t you?”

“Yes. But, enough about me! How are you here? Who is the kid?”

“It’s a long story but since we have all night we might as well get comfortable.” Alyss sat and motioned for the others to do the same.

“When I went back to save the girl in the fire, the roof collapsed but only one beam landed on me. It burnt my back and legs, but I pulled myself out and crawled through a break in the flames. There was a stream in the woods behind the inn and I dragged myself to it and laid in it. I must have passed out because I woke up and couldn’t remember what had happened or where I was. I don’t think I could remember what had happened for the last twenty years. I remember thinking of the time Keren had me locked in the tower. I couldn’t recall anything after that. My mind was blank.

I walked to a village and an old woman took me in and cured me. Her name was Lilian. She had no family left. Her only daughter and her husband had died in a fire. She died only a few weeks ago now. It turned out I was pregnant when I went to Celtica. Seven months after the fire I gave birth to Sean. His birthday is only a few days before yours, Maddie. I had regained most of my memories by then but with a newborn baby and no money I couldn’t travel. I wanted to come back here so much, so I got a job as a waitress in the local inn to get money. I never used my real name. I was known as Jessica Sama. As I said before, Lilian died a few weeks ago and since I was her only friend in the village, she left me all her possessions. Sean found her dead one morning. When she didn’t move, he got me to come in. The funeral traumatised him and every night since then he has had nightmares. I sold the house as soon as I could and brought a horse then came here as fast as I could.”

“is Sean my son?” Asked Will.

“yes.”

“I’m a father?!”

“yes.”

Will looked pale so Jenny stood and motioned for Maddie to come outside. “we’ll give you two some privacy.”

Alyss pulled Will up and wrapped him in a hug. He returned the embrace and kissed her. They stood together for several minutes, only stopping when Sean tugged on Alyss’s dress. “Mummy, I’m hungry.”

“I’m sure Jenny will have some food for you, honey.” She grabbed his hand. “come on let’s find you some food.” She walked to the door but noticed Will wasn’t following her. “are you coming, Will?”

“yes, but I think I’ll stay in here a bit longer. This is a lot to take in.”

“Yes, I understand.”

In the kitchen, Jenny and Maddie were making an apple pie. While they worked, they talked about Gilan.

Maddie turned to the door as she heard Alyss talking to Sean. He was running up the hall. He saw Maddie and Jenny and started running faster. He tried to climb onto the stool beside Maddie, but it was too tall so, she lifted him and sat him on her own lap. Alyss had walked into the kitchen by then. As she walked past the oven, she smelled something.

“Are you baking an apple pie, Jenny? It smells so good.”

“Yes. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

“I can’t wait.” Alyss sat on the stool beside Maddie. “so, Maddie, how did you become a Ranger? Last I heard, you were a princess.”

“Mum and Dad thought I was misbehaving, and Will was almost going to quit the Ranger corps to avenge your… death, I guess. Halt, Gilan, Mum and Dad all agreed that this would be the best way to get us both to behave better. It did. I was only supposed to train for a year, but I loved it so much that I continued.”

Alyss had frowned slightly when she heard that Will almost quit the Corps. “What are you going to do when you finish your training? I don’t think your parents would like it if you became a full time Ranger.”

“Mum didn’t like it when she found out that I wanted to continue my training. Only a few people know that I am training to be a Ranger. Most people think I am learning how to sew and act like a princess with lady Sandra. I don’t stay all year. I visit Mum and Dad for a few months a year and become a princess again. After I finish my training, I will go back to be a princess. But I will still practice my skills.”

Alyss smiled, “I see Will has taught you well.”

Maddie looked confused so she elaborated.

“getting completely off track when you talk, then going back and answering the question after heaps of pointless information. All the while confusing anyone that is listening. It is quite a useful skill, but it gets annoying sometimes.”

“so, you think I am annoying sometimes?” The voice came from behind Alyss and she turned, recognising the voice. It belonged to Will. He kissed her and sat.

As Maddie and Alyss talked, Jenny had pulled the apple pie out of the fire and left it to cool. Now she cut it into slices and put them on plates. “Maddie can you help me?”

She stood and sat Sean on the chair, then moved to the kitchen. She took her own plate and Sean’s plate as well as five sets of forks. Jenny carried the rest of the plates.

Maddie put the plates and cutlery on the table and picked up Sean and put him on her lap and sat down.

Alyss took a bite and sighed. “I forgot how good your cooking is. I missed it so much.”

Jenny filled everyone’s mugs with coffee. Alyss filled everyone else in on what had happened to her, going into more detail. The others in turn filled her in on the happenings of the kingdom. Just after they started talking, Sean had curled up, asleep on Maddie’s lap so, they talked in slightly more than whispers.

At around 2 am Alyss, Maddie and Will said goodnight to Jenny and rode to the cabin in the trees. They were almost there when Alyss realised the problem. There were not enough beds in the house. Will and Alyss would share a bed of course. Maddie had the other room, but there was nowhere for Sean to sleep. When she addressed the problem to the others, Maddie suggested that Sean could sleep in her bed. Alyss was riding with the sleeping child so Maddie decided to ride ahead to get the house ready. As she approached the house, she saw a bay horse waiting beside the building. It was a ranger horse. Maddie thought she recognised her and the thought was confirmed when she walked inside. Gilan was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. He looked up as she walked in. “good morning. Where’s Will?”

“he’s coming. How long have you been here?”

“about an hour.”

Maddie walked into her room. “Hey Gil, would you be able to help me move my bed? I don’t want it to leave marks on the floor.”

Gilan sat his coffee down and stood. He picked up one end of the bed while Maddie lifted the other. They positioned the bed next to the wall. Gilan went back to his coffee but Maddie walked around the cabin picking up any items low enough for Sean to grab and putting them on higher shelves. She put another blanket on her bed as well. Gilan watched her, perplexed, but didn’t interrupt her. When she finally sat, he poured her a cup of coffee and topped up his own cup. She nodded her thanks. He was about to ask her what she was doing, when Blaze and Bumper whinnied a welcome. There was an answering call from Tug. Maddie looked in the coffee pot and seeing that it was almost empty, refilled it and put it to boil, then walked outside to greet Will. Gilan stayed inside. By the time Maddie had stepped off the veranda, two horses walked out of the trees. Sean was still asleep on Alyss’s lap and she lifted him down into Maddie’s waiting arms. Careful to not wake Sean, Maddie walked to the cabin. She walked through the open door, straight into her room. She rested Sean on her bed and tucked him in. She sat at the table once again to finish her coffee. Gilan looked at her puzzled. He had no idea what was happening. Will walked in with a tall, graceful figure beside him. Will saw the coffee pot and filled a mug.

“Coffee, Alyss?” He asked. She nodded. He poured her a cup and handed it to her.

Gilan looked at her then at Will and at Sean, sleeping in Maddie’s room. “what am I missing?”

“Gilan, this is Alyss, my wife.”

“But she died years ago.” He looked at her.

Will was about to answer but Alyss put a hand on his arm to stop him.

She answered Gilan’s question. “I escaped the fire but lost my memory from the shock. I got it back eventually and came home with my son.”

“when did you have a kid?”

“I was pregnant when I went to Celtica. I didn’t know. No one knew.”

“so that kid Maddie brought in before, is your son?” There was a note of disbelief in his voice.

Will answered before Alyss could stop him. “yes, Sean is our son!”

“was he, by any chance, named after Halt’s nephew, King Sean?”

“yes, he was.” Alyss replied.

“Halt is going to love this! Have you told him yet?” Gilan grinned.

“no. We were just at Jenny’s. I went straight there when I got here, and Sean was asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.”

“How is Jenny?”

“she’s fine. What did you come here for?”

“I have a mission for you two Ranger’s, but I see you might want to stay here for a while, Will.”

“yes. I don’t want to just leave Alyss here all alone with Sean again. Not so soon. Maddie might want to still go.” Will answered.

Gilan turned to Maddie but was surprised to see that she had fallen asleep at the table, her cold cup of coffee still sitting in front of her.

“I guess we should take her to bed. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Bring Halt and Pauline if they aren’t busy.” Will lifted Maddie and carried her to bed and laid her beside Sean. He pulled the blanket up and tucked her in.

An hour later she woke to the sound of Sean crying. She sat up and saw him beside her with tears rolling down his cheeks. “Hey Sean, what’s wrong?” She whispered to him.

He looked at her and said. “I’m scared.”

She picked him up and hugged him. “it’s okay, I’m here for you. What are you scared of?”

“the lady came back.”

“what lady?”

“the lady that played with me when mummy went to work.”

Realisation dawned on Maddie. “was her name Lilian?”

“yes.”

“why is she so scary?”

“she’s grey like she was in the box.”

The box must have been the coffin, Maddie realised. “don’t worry Sean, I will make her go away.”

There was a knock on the door and Maddie, still holding Sean opened it. Alyss was standing there.

“I heard Sean crying.”

“he’s fine now. He had a nightmare.” Maddie reassured her.

“mummy! The nice girl made the lady go away.”

“What lady?”

“he’s been having nightmares about Lilian.” Maddie said.

“thank you, Maddie. You are really good with him.”

“I’m sure I fell asleep at the table earlier. How did I get in here?”

“Will carried you in here and tucked you in.”

Maddie raised her voice slightly. “Thanks, Will!”

“you’re welcome!” Will called from his bedroom.

Maddie grinned. “I knew he’d be awake. I’ll put Sean back to sleep, now. Goodnight.”

Alyss nodded. “thank you.”

Alyss shut the door and went back to her room. Maddie put Sean on the bed and laid beside him. “are you ready to go back to sleep, Sean?”

“will you keep the lady away?”

“of course, I will.”

“okay.” He rolled onto his side and fell asleep.

Maddie closed her eyes and fell asleep as well.

In the next room, Alyss listened as Maddie got Sean to sleep. “She is so good with him.” She whispered to Will.

“yes, she is. She is a good kid.”

Alyss looked at him. “she is not exactly a kid anymore. She will be an adult soon.”

Will grunted his agreement. “’night.”

“goodnight, dear.”

The next morning Will woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. He pulled a shirt on and buckled his belt around his hips. He tucked his shirt in as he walked out of his room.

“’Morning, sleepyhead.” Alyss was standing at the stove, cooking bacon and eggs.

“good morning. Is Maddie up yet?”

“no. Sean is still sleeping as well.”

Will poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table.

“I forgot how nice it was to have someone cook breakfast for me.” Will grinned.

“didn’t Maddie cook you breakfast?”

“a few failed attempts. It didn’t taste very good. It was a good effort, considering she had never cooked before. At least she made me laugh.”

“good morning, Sean.” Maddie said as the child moved beside her. She had only been awake for a few minutes but, fearing that she would wake Sean, stayed in bed. She heard Will talking to Alyss. She smiled as she remembered her first attempt at cooking bacon and eggs. Maddie sat on the edge of the bed. “Sean, do you want a piggyback ride?”

Alyss smiled as Maddie came out of her room, Sean on her back.

“Gilan’s coming over later, Maddie. He wants to talk to you. And you can have a day off today, to watch Sean.” Will said.

For a couple of hours, Maddie played with Sean, making mud patties and playing tag. It was almost noon when Gilan, Halt and Pauline rode into the clearing. Sean wanted to go over and see the horses, so Maddie held his hand and walked over to the small group. Pauline tethered her horse but Halt and Gilan just let the reins drop to the ground as usual. They turned as Maddie called out to them. Gilan hadn’t told Halt or Pauline why they had to come, so neither of them knew why Maddie was leading a small child towards them. As they approached, Halt turned to Gilan, “I suppose that has something to do with why we are here.” Gilan nodded and smiled.

Sean whispered something to Maddie, and she picked him up and walked faster towards the trio.

“and who’s this little angel?” Pauline asked.

“this is Sean. Sean, this is Gilan, Halt and Pauline.” She pointed to each as she said their names.

“hullo, Sean. Where did you come from?” Halt asked.

“come inside and we’ll tell you.” Alyss called from the doorway.

“who else is here? That was definitely not Will. But the voice sounds familiar.” Halt hated not knowing.

Gilan and Maddie exchanged a glance and Halt decided he would get them back for this later. While they were talking, Sean had started patting Blaze’s nose. Now he grabbed it and Blaze snorted. They all looked at her and Maddie laughed.

“Sean, be gentle.” She scolded light-heartedly.

She stepped onto the veranda and put Sean down. The door was open, and he ran inside.

“mummy!” He shouted happily as Alyss scooped him up. Maddie followed him inside and after a moment’s hesitation the others also stepped inside. Pauline recognised her first. Afterall, the graceful blonde had been her protegee. Halt took a few seconds longer and concluded that it must be Alyss. Then he realised that Sean had called her ‘mummy’.

“Two things.” Halt said. “first. Alyss? Second. Mummy?”

Alyss smiled. “yes, to both those questions Halt. Before you ask, no, I am not dead.” She had seen his mouth open to ask a question and close as she answered it.

“his name is Sean, like my nephew.” He said

“that’s who he is named after.”

“mummy, what does nefew mean?”

“nephew is a brother or sister’s son.”

“coffee’s ready if anyone wants it.” Will said. He was sitting at the table drinking his cup of coffee.

There were not enough chairs, so Gilan and Maddie sat on the floor with Sean.

“Last night I was going to ask you if you wanted to go on a mission, but Will is going to stay here. If you want to still go, I will go with you.” Gilan told Maddie.

“Where is it? And what is it about?”

“Toscana, Arridi. It’s just a routine trip to check the treaty. Do you want to come?”

“yes.” Maddie said after a moment’s hesitation.

“are you sure?”

“yes.”

“We leave in two days. At dawn.”

Maddie’s smile slid off her face. “I knew you would say that. Sean, do you want to help me pack?”

“yes!”

Maddie stood and lifted Sean up and walked to her room. “how long is this going to take?”

“two or three weeks.” Gilan replied.

“will I need any gowns?”

“yes.”

“am I a princess or a Ranger?”

“both. In Arridi you will be a Ranger but in Toscana you will be a princess.”

 After Maddie left with Gilan, Will sent a letter to Horace and Cassandra. ‘I will be coming to castle Araluen with a surprise. Have a big room prepared for me. I’m bringing a friend. We’ll be staying a few days. We’ll be there in less than a week.’

Will, Alyss and Sean left for the castle later that day. It was an uninteresting trip until they got within a day’s ride of castle Araluen. They stopped for the night in the ever-present woods beside the road. There was a small brook near the clearing they had chosen for their campsite. Will and Alyss had two cloaks each and they had a few blankets. It was a cold night, so Alyss had piled all the blankets on top of herself and Sean. She was curled around him to keep him warm. Will was sitting at the edge of the clearing, wrapped in his warm cloak, keeping watch. Tug and the other horses were on the other side of the clearing, closest to the road.

Alyss slept facing Will and he could see the details on her face clearly with the moonlight. As she slept, a single tear slid down her cheek and froze on the tip of her nose. It glistened in the moonlight and Will was struck by a sudden urge to wipe it off his wife’s face. Sean was squirming in his mother’s embrace, but she was in a deep sleep and didn’t notice. Will checked around for any intruders one last time before darting across the clearing. Alyss unconsciously stroked the air where Sean’s head had laid seconds before and woke up immediately when she realised, he was gone. She looked around anxiously, searching for her son and relaxed when she saw Will at Tug’s side, and Sean perched on top of the horse.

“Will,” she called with mock severity. “bring that cheeky little boy back to bed!”

Will pulled Sean off Tug and tucked him back in with Alyss. He hesitated, looking at Tug then as the little shaggy horse seemed to nod, he laid down beside her and wrapped her in his arms. They lay undisturbed for hours until Tug whinnied a warning. There is someone nearby, the warning said. Will was awake instantly. As was usual for a Ranger, he made no outward sign that he was awake. His hand searched under his pillow for his saxe knife.

The man watched, shocked to find that a mysterious, green and grey clad Ranger was curled up with a woman and child, with no sentries. If he hit the Ranger now, he would be able to get the woman easily. The Ranger looked like he was still asleep. The man crouched behind the bush, formulating his plan. He would throw his spear at the Ranger. If he missed, he would use his second spear. Or he would threaten to kill the woman. The Ranger obviously cared about her.

Will saw the man crouch behind the bush. This was his chance. He rolled away from Alyss, saxe knife in hand. He grabbed his longbow and quiver as he ran to the edge of the clearing.

The man behind the bush stood with his spear ready to throw at the Ranger but he had disappeared. What he didn’t know was that the Ranger was creeping toward him. He brought the spear back to throw it at Alyss. Will stepped out of the trees, arrow already nocked. He hadn’t seen the man draw back the spear to throw. The spear sped across the open ground and Will fired at the man. He knew it was a good shot and he dropped his bow, turning to face his family.

“Alyss!” He screamed, the agony clear in his voice, as he sprinted toward her. She had cried out as the spear flew at her.

She was sobbing when Will reached her. Her hands were covered in blood. He Searched for the wound and cried out in shock when he saw it. Sean’s upper arm was sliced to the bone. Alyss didn’t seem to be hurt but her eyes were haunted as she looked at her child. Will bundled up Sean and carried him to the pond. He washed the blood off his arm and whistled for Tug. There was a first aid kit in his saddlebag. He smeared a pain killer in Sean’s wound. As it took effect, Will noticed the torture in his son’s eyes dissipated. Will stitched the lips of the wound together.

Alyss was sitting up on her blankets, hands in her hair, rocking back and forth, muttering to herself and crying. She was oblivious to the blood staining her ash blonde hair.

Will heard hoofbeats and decided to investigate. He carried Sean. It was the mail carrier cart and its entourage. Six armed knights. The captain saw Will and recognised him. He stopped the cart.

“Good morning Ranger Will. I am captain Wurel.” The captain dismounted.

“Not all that good of a morning, I’m afraid captain.” Will replied, indicating the bandage wrapped around Sean’s arm. “Sean got a spear through his arm.”

“what happened to the man that got him?”

“he is sleeping in the woods. My arrow is with him.” Will grinned.

Alyss had finally stopped crying. She heard voices from the road, Will was not in the clearing so she reasoned that he was talking at the roadside. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard his voice. Alyss stumbled toward the voices. Will turned when he heard her coming. He saw the blood in her hair and on her face and hands. He hurried over to her asking if she was alright. She threw her arms around Wills neck and burst into tears again.

“It was all my fault, Will.” She whispered between sobs.

“No, it wasn’t, honey.” His hands were full so he couldn’t hug her back. He kissed her cheek instead.

The captain was looking embarrassed as he watched the famous Will Treaty kiss this unknown woman.

Will saw his look and called to him as his own face reddened. “you should get back to work.”

Captain Wurel nodded his thanks and ordered his men to get back to work. Most of them had dismounted and slumped on the ground. They all stepped up into their saddles again and rode off with the wagon. As they rounded the corner, Will kissed Alyss again. It was more passionate but still clumsy because of Sean. They broke apart as Alyss broke down into another bout of tears. Will lead Alyss to the brook and started to wash her face and hair.

The blood had dried, and her hair was matted with it. Will soaked her hair then combed it out with his hands. Most of the dried blood came out so he just combed it with his fingers, occasionally wetting it again. Eventually her hair was back to normal. He wiped Alyss’s face with a wet cloth removing the layer of blood. The sun had risen over an hour ago. They packed up camp and headed for castle Araluen.

They arrived a few hours after lunch. They were greeted at the gate by the Queen herself and her husband Sir Horace.

“Your majesty.” Will said grinning.

“Who are your friends?” Horace asked.

“I believe that you have met Alyss? My wife.”

“It can’t be!” Cassandra stated.

“It is Cass. And this is our son, Sean.” Alyss replied.

“hold up a minute! Will. You’re telling us your wife has been brought back from the dead and you have a kid?” Sir Horace challenged.

“yes!”

“how is this possible?”

“She was never dead.”

“why didn’t she come back three years ago? It would have saved us all a lot of grief. It would have saved Maddie from that spear she took for you.”

“Maddie save your life?” Alyss intervened.

“Yes.” Will answered briefly.

“what did it have to do with me not coming back?”

“Jory Ruhl threw the spear. I was tied to a post to be burned alive. Maddie jumped in front of me. I was hunting him down. I thought she was dead. She was all I had left. I wanted to die.” Will’s voice lowered to a hoarse whisper as he said the last words. A tear slipped down his cheek.

Alyss’s eyes were watering and seeing the tear on Will’s cheek was the last straw. She burst into tears for the third time that day. Will handed Sean to Cassandra after pointing out the cut on his arm. He leaped off Tug and lifted Alyss off her horse. Her whole body was shaking. Will held her close. He gestured for the four of them to go into the castle. Horace looked at Will then at Tug the question was obvious. ‘What about the horses?’ Will tilted his head toward Alyss. ‘She comes first.’HHhhhhhhhhhh5eryhrb

Horace called out to a stable hand and told him to look after the visitor’s horses. The hand nodded and took the bridle.

“Tug, go along.” Will said to his horse. He reluctantly followed the stable hand into the stable.

Will walked Alyss into the castle. Cassie led the way and Horace came behind them. suddenly he stopped. “did you name your son after Halt’s nephew?”

Will grinned. “did you just realise that?”

“so, you did?”

“Alyss did. That was one of the first questions Halt asked. The first was, Alyss? Then it was, Mummy? Then he asked if Sean was named after King Sean.”

“why did he ask; Mummy?”

“Sean came running into the house laughing and yelling, Mummy! Your daughter was right behind him.”

“Maddie knew. And she didn’t tell us!”

Will grinned sheepishly. “I told her not to.”

The Queen opened the door and held it open for the others to pass her. She had moved into her fathers’ old room. Will led Alyss straight to the bed and sat her on it. He sat with his arm around her shaking shoulders. She laid her head on his shoulder. It didn’t take long for Will’s shoulder to become soaked with tears. He kissed her forehead. Her cries eventually stopped as she sank into asleep. Will laid her on the bed and kissed her again.

Sean tugged on Will’s sleeve. “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mummy?”

“She’s having a bad day.”

“poor girl. She used to be so strong. Now she is so stressed.” Cassie said sympathetically. She hated seeing her friend like this and not being able to do anything. They all hated it.

“she has been like this all day. Early this morning, Sean got hit by the spear. She blamed herself for him getting hit. The spear was aimed at her, but they overshot. It cut his arm all the way to the bone.” Will frowned.

“how can she blame herself for that? She couldn’t do anything to stop a spear.” Horace argued.

“I know. I tried to tell her that. She had blood all over her hands and she got it all through her hair and on her face.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Horace randomly asked if Will wanted the doctor to check Sean’s cut. Will thought about it for a couple of minutes before he answered.

“If Alyss says yes.” He naturally surrendered to his wife’s authority.

Cassandra and Horace both had work to do. They left Will, Sean and Alyss in the room alone. After a few hours, Alyss finally woke up. Sean had gone exploring around the suite of rooms. Will was going to kiss her forehead, but she pulled his lips down onto her own. He didn’t resist. Neither pulled away until Alyss had to come up for a breath. A servant was backing out of the room and Will turned and saw him. They all turned red with embarrassment. The servant turned and ran out of the room. Will turned and kissed Alyss again. He pulled away, remembering what Horace had said hours earlier. He asked Alyss if she wanted to take Sean to the doctor. She nodded.

They found Sean in the office, balancing on the big oak desk. They walked him down to the doctor. Just outside the doctor’s office Cassandra was busy planning a celebration. They told him to go straight to aunty Cass when the doctor was finished.

They walked back up to the Queens rooms. This time they locked the door. They caught up on the three years of missed kisses in the hours before Horace and Cassie knocked on the door. Will kissed Alyss one more time, before getting up to open the door. He was surprised to find it already open and the couple were obviously trying hard not to laugh.

“they’ve been like that for hours, Horace.” Halt was standing inside the doorway.

Horace burst into peals of laughter. “And you managed to stay in here that whole time?”

“What!?” Will looked at Halt accusingly.

“you didn’t even look around the room when you locked the door. Even Horace could have hidden in plain sight and you wouldn’t have noticed him.” Halt looked disappointed.

“No-o-o! You saw the whole thing? And heard it all?” Will looked more horrified as Halt nodded to both his questions.

Will was horrified that his former teacher had seen and heard everything.

Halt decided that Will was embarrassed enough. He softened his gaze. “you two deserved the love after what you have been through.”

Will’s face was bright red. Alyss, trained in not showing her emotions, was only slightly less red. Lady Pauline was standing behind Cassandra, Sean clinging to her arm. They stepped forward and Sean ran into Alyss’s waiting arms. His arm was wrapped in a new bandage.

“Mummy!”

Alyss lifted him up, kissing his cheek and her embarrassment faded away.

“when did you get here, Halt?” Alyss asked.

“Daddy.” Sean said and Alyss put him on the floor and he walked to Will, who picked him up.

“we left Redmont a couple of hours after you did, and we got here just as you were walking inside. I came in here to see you, but you were… too busy.” Halt answered Alyss’s question.

“why didn’t you say anything?” Will interrupted.

“I did. But that’s not important. Dinner is important.”

“finally, someone agrees with me!” Horace said and everyone laughed.

 The group of six camped in the woods that night. They were heading to Seacliff to see Maddie and Gilan who were due to arrive late the next day.

Horace had second watch. Less than an hour into it, Cassandra woke. They talked for a while until Sean woke up. He walked to them, telling them he need to use the privy. Horace and Cassie started to argue who would take him. As they had their whispered squabble, Sean wandered into the woods. Neither of them noticed. Will heard the fight and slowly stirred.

“What are you doing?” Will whispered, still hazy with sleep.

Cassie looked around and noticed Sean was gone. “Nothing.”

As Will laid back down Cassie murmured to Horace that Sean was missing. He looked around and his eyes widened. Will was almost asleep, and he looked at his wife, thinking, ‘She looks so peaceful when she is asleep. She is not worrying about Sean.’ He realised that Sean was not curled up beside his mother anymore. He shot up, looking around. Cassie and Horace were whispering fighting again. His son was not in the campsite.

“Where is he?” Will stood in front of the Queen, hands on his hips. They were on watch. They were supposed to be watching.

Cassandra and Horace avoided Will’s angry eyes.

“Where is he?” He repeated, his voice was ominously low.

“We don’t know.” Cassandra said in a small voice.

Halt’s bedroll was the closest to where they were arguing. He roused when he heard Will’s voice rise with anger.

“what do you mean, you don’t know? You were supposed to be watching!”

“What’s the problem, Will?” Halt was suddenly standing behind him.

“Them.” Will pointed to Horace and his partner. “They weren’t watching Sean.”

“Where is he?”

“That’s the problem!”

Alyss and Pauline heard Will and decided to find out what happened. They walked together to the scene. Will turned as he heard the familiar sound of his wife’s voice.

“What’s the problem, Will?” Alyss asked.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologised.

“Nothing. You should go back to bed.”

Alyss and Pauline simultaneously raised their right eyebrow in disbelief. Then Alyss realised what the problem was. Her baby was gone.

“Sean?” She breathed. Her legs seemed to become jelly. They wouldn’t hold her up and she fell to the ground. Will’s arms stopped her at the last moment.

“We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

Alyss stood. “I’m going.”

“No! You’re staying here.”

A child’s high-pitched scream rung out from the forest. Will immediately let go of Alyss who screamed out her son’s name. He sprinted toward the noise, snatching up his bow and quiver as he went. Alyss tried to follow but Halt grabbed her around the waist, stopping her.

“Let go of me, Halt! Sean! My baby!” She clawed at Halt’s arms and screamed again when she heard her son.

“Mummy! Da…!” His voice was muffled by a hand clamped over his mouth as he screamed for his parents.

Alyss slumped in Halt’s arms, realising that he wouldn’t let her go. She twisted in his embrace and buried her tear-stained face in his chest.

Will followed the muffled screams. His cowl was up, shading his face and he carried his longbow easily, ready to shoot in a second. He moved, silent as a cat stalking its prey, toward the bandit who was holding Sean.

The outlaw spoke to the small boy. “Guess Mummy and Daddy aren’t coming, kid.” He pressed a knife under Sean’s chin. “Guess I’ll just have to kill you.” The knife was moved closer to the child’s neck, causing a thin line of blood to appear.

“Don’t move!” Will shouted. “King’s Ranger!”

The bandit, Ramen, pressed the knife harder into Sean’s neck. He knew what Rangers were like. If he ran, the Ranger would come after him and kill him. If he stayed, the Ranger would kill him. It wouldn’t matter what he did, the Ranger would kill him. Ramen decided he would not go down without the pleasure of killing the boy. Sean whimpered in pain and fear. Will threw back his cowl, revealing his face to his son.

“Daddy!”

Ramen cursed and put his hand over the kids mouth again, smothering the shout. Seconds later he realised what the kid had said. His eyes widened and he smiled cruelly.

“Guess Daddy did come after all. Dressed as a Ranger.”

Will brought his bow up, pulling it to full draw and sighted on the hand holding the knife to Sean’s throat. If the man moved, the arrow could hit Sean. Will didn’t want to take that risk, so he released the tension of the bow and dropped it on the forest floor, replacing the arrow in his quiver. He moved forward, drawing his heavy saxe knife. Ramen dug his own knife further into Sean’s neck. Blood was running freely down and soaking into the kid’s shirt.

Will leaped, twisting the knife from Ramen’s fingers and Sean sunk to the ground. Will dragged the bandit away and threw him to the ground. As the bandit got unsteadily to his feet, the pommel of Will’s saxe knife came down heavily on his head, knocking him out instantly. He was tied to a tree and Will left.

Will took off his cloak, wrapped his sleepy son in it and carried him back to the campsite. As the child was drifting off to sleep, he remembered something. He opened his eyes.

“Daddy? The man said his friends were going to get Mummy.” Sean whispered.

Will silently cursed and started to run. “Alyss! Halt!” he yelled.

Halt and Alyss turned at Will’s voice and ran toward him. He didn’t hear the man behind him. The sword stabbed into his back and he reeled forward. The world turned black. Alyss leaped forward to the man who had cut her husband. Her dagger slipped between his ribs and found his heart. She dropped to her knees beside Will. The sword had gone through, below his ribcage. Alyss was torn between helping her husband or her son. Halt stopped another brigand and seeing no other enemies around, also dropped to the ground beside Will.

“I have Sean. You get Will.” Halt reassured her. Alyss carefully pulled the bloodstained sword out of her husband’s body. His breathing was ragged and so was his pulse. He opened his eyes at Alyss’s gentle touch. She pulled his ruined shirt away from the wound and wiped the injury with a clean linen bandage.

While Will was sleeping, the others talked. Horace volunteered to get a healer from the castle. It would be half a day’s ride to get there and another half day ride back. It would be more than twelve hours before Will could get proper treatment. Cassandra and Pauline would continue to the docks to meet with Maddie and Gilan. Sean would go with them.

Cassandra and Pauline trotted their horses slowly down the street. Sean was sitting in the saddle in front of Pauline. Two horses trailed behind them. A piebald and a bay. Wolfwill, the sleek wolfship captained by Gundar Hardstriker, glided to the wharf. Maddie and Gilan were standing at the port side railings and leaped off as soon as the ship stopped. Maddie ran to her horse and threw her arms around his neck. Then she seemed to notice everyone around her.

“Mum!” she shouted excitedly. She looked around only seeing Pauline and Sean. “Where’s Dad?”

“He is… with Will, Halt and Alyss. They are camped in the woods less than a day’s ride away,” Pauline answered. “We will be staying there for a couple of days.”

It was obvious that she was not telling them something. Maddie wondered what it was for a few seconds before realising that they would find out in due time.

Gilan was watching Maddie from beside his own horse. “I have to get back to work but I can come with you to the campsite.”

As they rode into the campsite Maddie expected to be greeted by her mentor, not by the site of him lying unconscious on the ground with a bloodstained bandage around his bare chest. Maddie and Gilan both stopped their horses as they saw Will. Alyss looked up as the hoofbeats stopped. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“What happened to Will? Is he going to be okay?” Maddie cried out as she jumped off Bumper and ran to her teacher, dropping to her knees beside him.

At the sound of Maddie’s voice, Will’s eyes flickered open.

“Hey Maddie.” His voice was weak and his eyes were full of pain.