#yeah i know it's atrocious finding/reading fic on tumblr

[pillowfriends]

wheel of time drabble: september

Moiraine/Siuan, Moiraine & Lan & Siuan

Modern AU, 200 words

From prompt: "September started very badly"

-

September started very badly.

It was uncomfortably hot in Tar Valon. Siuan loved it. Moiraine and Lan glared at her and sweated irritably in front of the box fan.

Siuan’s father called. His disability payments were ending. After harried phone calls, budget spreadsheets, and frustrated tears, she took out another student loan.

The heat and start of term approaching made Lan sluggish, gloomy. He dragged himself out of bed at five am to run. Then five became six. Then seven. Then he stopped getting up until Moiraine threw an ice cube at him and dragged him to the pool.

Moiraine’s father called too. The family missed her – she hadn’t visited in so long – couldn’t she come back for the sponsor dinner her uncle was hosting next month, there were rumors. If you miss me, Moiraine said harshly, why do you only call when you need something? Then – I’ll visit if I can bring my girlfriend.

That killed the conversation fast. She cried for twenty minutes into Siuan’s hair.

Next week will be better, Siuan whispered into the night as Moiraine kissed her forehead, snuggled halfway in Lan’s lap. Part prayer, part demand, all fiery protectiveness and steadfast hope. It will.

[alex-wrestling]

Justice Found Its Way

Christian Cage & Nick Wayne (platonic)

Summary: Nick has to pick up his testosterone prescription, but Christian doesn’t know he’s trans until shit hits the fan.

Warnings: transphobia (deadnaming and using wrong pronouns specifically), light swearing, Christian being a Karen

A/N: first time uploading a full fic to tumblr! It’s also on my AO3 if you’d like to read it there. This was written for me but y’all can read it too. The title is from Misguided Son by Knocked Loose.

Christian hummed as he shined his new belt in the kitchen the Patriarchy shared, the light catching it at the perfect angle and directing a light beam directly into his eye, making him let out a “fuck!” He quickly wiped his eyes, deciding that his title was more than reflective enough. In the title’s sheen he could make out Nick’s reflection as the youngest member of their faction jogged down the stairs. “Christian?”

Christian turned to face him, seeing the young man clad in a white shirt and jeans. The older man sighed at the atrocious choice in clothing but otherwise didn’t make a sound.

“Can I borrow your car? I need to go pick something up and mom has the other one,” Nick said, nervously tapping his feet on the floor. “If not that’s fine, I can just get it tomorrow. You know what? Never mind.”

Nick turned around, leaving Christian in a state of confusion. “Nick?”

Nick turned around. “Yeah?”

“Come on, I’ll drive you. Where are we going?” Christian asked, grabbing his keys and walking toward the door, pausing to find the right one. He didn’t hear Nick’s footsteps following him. “Nick?”

Nick stepped forward, his head down. “It’s embarrassing,” Nick said.

Christian racked his brain for what could possibly be that embarrassing. Underwear? More of those stupid chains? Early birthday gift? Herpes medication? “Do you have herpes, Nick?”

“What?!”

“That’s the only reason you should be this embarrassed about something! You’re my son, I don’t care what you do!”

“I can’t tell you, alright? You’ll see me differently. I just want to be your son without any other labels attached, and if you see what I have to get you’ll judge me. You might kick me out.”

Nick went quiet, seemingly realizing what he had just revealed to his new father. Christian, on the other hand, had no idea what he was talking about. “‘Labels’? Are you gay? I was married to a man for years, why would I care? Come on, Nick, let’s just get going.”

Christian could hear Nick’s breath shudder. “It’s at the pharmacy,” he mumbled. “Just let me handle it.”

Christian hummed in agreement, but he didn’t like it. It wasn’t like Nick to be so secretive, especially to him. He told the older man everything, even how much he wanted to make him proud. To hear Nick talk about himself like that, to insinuate that Christian would leave because of something that was probably small, was out of character. It made him squirm in his seat as he pulled into the parking lot and pulled the keys out. “Come on, son.”

Nick smiled despite the obvious anxiety and followed him into the pharmacy. The teenager walked up to the counter and spoke with the older woman behind it, who couldn’t even hide her disdain at having to speak with him. After showing her an ID, she waved him off and he rejoined Christian by the door. “She’s getting it,” he said, although there was a small crack in his voice.

“Was she mean to you? Tell me what she said and I’ll get this whole place shut down. That’s no way to treat any child of mine.” Christian narrowed his eyes at Nick, but not out of malice. “What’s wrong?”

“She-”

“Anna Wayne!” The woman shouted, smirking at Nick as his eyes filled with tears.

“Anna?” Christian repeated in disbelief. “His name isn’t Anna!”

“Chri-”

“Are you her father?” The woman asked. “You must be ashamed of her.”

The secrecy. The refusal to change in their locker room. The baggy clothing. The joy when he called him son. It all made sense.

Nick was trans.

Christian saw red. “My son is named Nick, and he’s one of the brightest, happiest, hard working men I’ve ever met. I will not let some minimum wage hag say those things about him.” He stepped closer to her, seeing the confusion in her eyes.

“Your daughter will never be a real man anyway, no matter how much she tries to mutilate her body and take these stupid shots.” She held up Nick’s prescription and Christian swiped it out of her hands, making her draw her hand back in shock.

“My son is the light of my life and makes me proud every day. Can your parents say the same for you?” He leaned over the counter, making sure to get as close as he could to her without actually touching her. “Or are you the family disappointment? I think your parents talk about you behind your back and reminisce about what you could’ve been. You could’ve been the Prime Minister. You could’ve cured cancer. Instead, you’re rotting away behind a counter contributing nothing to society and draining the life out of everyone you come into contact with. Who are you to dictate what other people do? Are you that unhappy in your life that you have to take it out on an innocent man? And Nick is a man, regardless of what you seem to think. Are you a doctor? Are you a medical professional in any aspect?” She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. “Of course not. You’d probably flunk the first semester of medical school because you’re a cold hearted bitch who has no critical thinking skills and no friends because you hate seeing people happy because you know it can’t happen for you.”

He turned around and walked over to the door, holding the white paper bag out to Nick, who took it slowly, as if he was in a trance. “You didn’t have to keep that from me, Nick.” Christian mumbled. “We’re family, and family don’t judge each other. Even if the person has herpes.”

Nick laughed through the tears that were now falling down his face. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you really mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“That you were proud of me? That I’m the light of your life?”

Christian nodded. “Of course I am. You’re my son.”

Find me on AO3 @/bubblesboo

[chronicallybloodless]

Heavy to Hold - Chapter 12

Cold Blood

Pairing: Astarion x enby!tav Status: in progress Rating: Explicit (18+ only) Genre: angst/comfort | slow burn Alternating second-person POV Contains spoilers for the whole game basically TW: it's an astarion fic: descriptions of trauma, abuse, sexual violence, etc. | smut | full tag list on AO3 Read from the beginning: AO3 | Tumblr Listen to the Playlist

You recalled what he had told you about spawn—that their master had the power to compel them to do anything. You hoped this was one of those cases. A terrible thought crossed your mind. Was what he told me true?

Read on AO3

Read on Tumblr ↓

Tav's POV

“Do you recall how I said I wasn’t accustomed to sleeping in the dirt?” Astarion asked as he swatted away a horsefly.

“Yeah?” You answered. He hadn’t been particularly keen on today’s adventure into the swamplands, and he wasn’t being quiet about his displeasure.

“This is worse. By far.” He stepped into a patch of mud with a wet squelch as it sunk around his boot. “Why do I still follow you around?”

“My winning personality?” He glared at you in response as he struggled to take another step. Wyll stopped to help him dislodge his foot, only for him to immediately get stuck again. Shadowheart stifled a chuckle as she watched him struggle.

“C’mon Astarion, it’s not so bad out here.” Wyll added in his usual optimistic tone. “Besides, we’re lucky Shadowheart picked up on the enchantment. At least we can see how gross it is rather than falling into it unwittingly.”

“Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that it is gross.” He scowled. “Gods I need a bath.”

“Speaking of needing a bath, do any of you smell that?” Shadowheart frowned and held her nose as an atrocious smell of metal and sweets wafted over you.

“Pardon me, travelers!” A voice called out from deeper into the forest. A man stepped out a moment later, bringing the stench with him. “Oh, forgive the smell—keeps monsters away. Can never be too careful in these parts.”

“A clever trick!” Wyll nodded approvingly. “Well met stranger, what brings you out into these woods?”

The smell of the man’s monster ward was starting to give you a headache. You were surprised that Astarion hadn’t commented on it. You turned towards him to see if he was suffering the same way you were, only to find him frozen in place, his eyes wide as he took in the stranger.

“Oh I’m on the hunt for a particular monster. Haven’t had much luck, so I’m seeking out the hag of these woods.” The man moved closer as he engaged Wyll.

“A hag?” Wyll cocked his head inquisitively. “Surely a hag is a worse monster than whatever you’re hunting, friend.”

“Normally I would agree with you,” The man sighed. “But this monster—a vampire spawn—stole a group of children from our clan some months ago. We’re hoping that if we can capture it alive, we could rescue them.”

You heard Shadowheart take a sharp inhale in, seemingly in pain. You turned to see what had happened to her. From the corner of your eye, you saw Astarion quietly unsheathe his knife.

“A vampire spawn?” Wyll questioned. “I thought vampires tended to prefer urban environments? Is there really one this far out?”

“Normally yes, but the head of our clan got word that this one, a particularly nasty piece of work that goes by the name Astarion, recently flew the proverbial coop and left the city.”

Gods no.

“Astarion?” Are you sure?” Shadowheart asked, her arms folded.

“Positive. A group of spawn attacked our camp at nightfall—they all called each other by name. While the others fought our warriors, the one they called Astarion snuck in and stole our children from their beds while they screamed. Some of the women who were nearby said they heard him laugh.” The man balled a fist. “It isn’t natural—vampires are monsters, but a coordinated attack like that isn’t their usual method. Our leader wants to know why.”

Your heart sank. Astarion had told you that there was a lot that you didn’t know, but you hadn’t expected it to include kidnapping children. You recalled what he had told you about spawn—that their master had the power to compel them to do anything. You hoped this was one of those cases.

A terrible thought crossed your mind.

Was what he told me true?

“But don’t spawn have to obey their master’s orders?” You questioned the man, hoping he would corroborate what Astarion had told you. Shadowheart raised an eyebrow at you. “Why go after the spawn and not the vampire himself?”

“Believe me, if we thought we could get our hands on the master we would.” The man frowned. “This spawn being away from the nest is our only shot at answers. That’s also why I have strict orders to capture, not kill.”

“Seems like it’s the spawn’s lucky day.” Wyll grimaced as he shot a glance at you.

“Indeed it is.” Before you realized what was happening, Astarion had moved past you and plunged his dagger into the man’s eye. The man fell backwards, but his screams were cut short as Astarion slit his throat.

Shadowheart and Wyll turned to look at you, their hands on their weapons. You gestured towards them to hold still.

Astarion was standing stock still with his back to you. You approached him cautiously, walking around him until you were face to face. He didn’t seem to notice you were there. Blood dripped slowly from his pale face, his expression frozen in a look of sheer terror. He blinked as he realized you were there.

“My apologies, Tav.” His voice didn’t convey any of the emotion you had just seen on his face. “I couldn’t bear to listen to any more of that Gur’s lies.”

“Are we, well, you know, safe?” Gale questioned.

The group had returned to camp after your encounter with the monster hunter and the hag. Astarion had gone out hunting shortly after, skipping dinner entirely. Wyll and Shadowheart took the opportunity to convey the day’s events to the others.

“What part of anything that has happened to us recently is safe?” Karlach responded.

“Easy for you to say—you’re too hot to bite.” Gale added. “It’s the rest of us that might wake up with teeth in our necks.”

“If that were going to happen, don’t you think it would have by now?” Shadowheart shot you a look as she spoke. It would seem that she finally figured out what you were spending your evenings doing.

“Tav was right about spawn having to obey their masters.” Wyll nodded sagely. “If that man was right and it was our Astarion, he may not have had a choice in the matter.”

“Well given that the man is now dead because Astarion killed him, I think we can assume that it was our Astarion.” Lae’zel grumbled.

You were sitting there in a daze. Given everyone’s shock, you had apparently done a good job of keeping Astarion’s secret from them.

Now you wondered whether that was the right thing to do.

You wanted to talk to him about it, to get his side of the story, to hear his explanation of why he killed a man in cold blood and then proceeded through the rest of the day as if it hadn’t happened. You wanted to ask him why he had looked so completely terrified.

But you were stuck here having dinner with a group of people who were deciding whether they wanted to introduce him to the pointy end of a stake.

“Tav?” Shadowheart waved a hand in front of you. You must have been lost in your own thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I said, what do you think we should do?”

“About?”

“About Astarion.” She frowned.

“Well….the man’s story was horrible.” They were all looking at you, various expressions of anger and skepticism on their faces. “I mean….kidnapping children? And laughing about it? I can understand why they would want to try to find him.”

You paused, trying to consider your words carefully. You could tell them Astarion seemed to be acting out of fear and encourage them to try to see it from his perspective, but you weren’t sure he would want you to tell them everything he had told you. You weren’t even sure if everything he had told you was true.

Perhaps he had spun you a web for just such an occasion as this, twisting you around his finger so that you would defend him. Would he be as quick to kill you if he felt he needed to?

You recalled all the nights you had spent together and the way he had held you. The thought that it could have all been fake made your stomach twist in knots.

“I don’t think he did any of it by choice.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke.

“I think we can all agree that we have things in our past that we would rather not talk about.” Shadowheart added, noticing your discomfort. “And I think we can also agree that if anyone showed up looking to capture any of us, we wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Hells, we already did that once.” Karlach nodded appreciatively at Wyll.

“Precisely.” Gale added. “So, the more important question is whether Astarion is a danger to us now, not whether he may have been in the past.”

“I think that’s a question we have to ask him.” You stood and walked towards the woods. The others started to follow you, but Shadowheart shook her head at them.

You needed to do this alone.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Piper Sargasso

Piper Sargasso has 25 stories at Gossamer, but don’t miss her website where the fics each have cover collage art. If you are a fan of Mulder/Scully romance, there are a lot of MSR fics to read that are set in different seasons of the show. But like the show that never stuck to one type of story, Piper’s stories have variety, so you can also find AUs and /Other.  Big thanks to Piper for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It does, but I love that people are still into it! Writers back in the day put so much work and love into their writing, and it's nice to know that the stories are still being appreciated to this day. As for my own stories, it puts a huge smile on my face to know there are still people out there checking them out and hopefully enjoying them.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

It was such a positive period of my life. I made some amazing friends who became something like older sisters (and some brothers) to me, even though I was a little ridiculous when I was in my early to mid-twenties. It was also a much-needed confidence booster. I was a pretty shy person and loved writing, but never had the nerve to show anything to anyone. My first fanfic was completely horrible, but because of it I made my first XF friend and super beta, Mimic117. Between her guidance and the encouraging words from my Yahoo group I was able to do something I really loved and felt great about myself and my abilities for the first time. That will stay with me forever. That first story was truly atrocious, but it was a catalyst for great things in my life when I needed them the most.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I remember trying this cool new thing called an AOL chat room, but they were more interested in perving on each other than talking about the show. Once I knew about fanfiction I kept seeing that some of my favorite authors kept mentioning IWTBXF in their notes, a Yahoo group named I Want to Believe. I looked it up, joined, and with great trepidation made my introductory post. Everyone was so warm and welcoming, and talking to my favorite authors in the group was a little like meeting a celebrity and finding out that they're awesome in real life. After IWTBXF fell apart, an off-shoot called Beyond the Sea was created with almost all of the original group transferring over. I stuck to my little family there and didn't branch out into much else, other than the rare dip into Haven. Ephemeral and Gossamer, of course.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Mostly the overwhelming feeling of acceptance and confidence to write, something I was sorely lacking before in my life. I fell in with the best group, that's for sure! They made me feel like being a professional writer could be an achievable goal.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

The commercial advertising. The pilot spoke to my supernatural-loving, angsty 15 year-old soul. I watched it religiously every week. There was nothing like it. It was off-beat, but serious (most of the time) and fulfilled my insatiable craving for the paranormal and weird. You just couldn't get that from Melrose Place and Beavis and Butthead, you know? It definitely helped that David Duchovny was adorable and the character of Scully was the strong and intelligent icon we needed in the 90's and beyond.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

In high school I had a friend who was as obsessed with the show as I was. Maybe more, since she once had a slumber party that was exclusively to binge watch her taped episodes (the other girls who wanted to mess around with spells and the Ouija board weren't thrilled that she couldn't be swayed away from it) and she often drove me from play rehearsals in her convertible with the top down and the theme song blasting to the heavens, much to my delight and mortification. A couple years after we graduated she told me about the piece of fanfic she wrote. Insert a record screech here. What?! You mean there are thousands of stories dedicated to my favorite show? And hundreds more get added every month?! I was obsessed. If I could've stopped working and slept at my computer desk I would have.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Sadly it's nonexistent these days. I have great memories and it holds a big piece of my heart, but I haven't been active in a long time. I would love to see a huge revival, and would definitely want to be involved in that in some way, were it to happen.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I read a lot of Harry Potter fanfiction for a while, but I never could expend the kind of energy and time I did for the X-Files fandom. It came at a perfect time in my life, and so far nothing else has measured up to it.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Besides XF characters? Off the top of my head I really love Hermione Granger, Buffy Summers, Elizabeth Bennet, and Claire Fraser for their sass and strength of character, Severus Snape for his complexity, and Christina Ricci's version of Wednesday Addams for her pure awesomeness. She's pretty much my spirit animal.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I do occasionally. I watched the series from season 1-7 so many times that I started to burn out, but I get on my X-Files kicks sometimes and binge it again.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

Like with the show, I'll get nostalgic and need to consume all the fanfics my greedy little eyes can behold until I move on to something else. It can feel a little lonely though, if you'll excuse the drama. We're not in the heyday anymore, so it feels a little like walking through a ghost town. Many of the stories out there are suspended in time because the show ended, or people stopped writing.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I know I have dozens, but I'm drawing a blank. My ultimate favorite is any well-written MSR casefile with UST finally resulting in RST. Those are my unicorns!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I have a silly one called Baby, It's Cold Outside that I sometimes read around Christmastime. It was a fluffy song-fic, but I can see the scene so clearly in my mind when I read it and it's just pure fun. I also like my Donnie Pfaster series. I can see the potential in my writing with those, which makes me feel I could really write something special someday. Plus, he's such an interesting little slimeball to write and read about. Bless his heart.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I still think about the two WIPs I haven't finished. I wrote myself into a corner with This Mortal Coil, and honestly I think it needs a total overhaul. I think Dana Scully's Diary would be a fun one to finish. I hate that I never finished them.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I think about writing fanfic now and then and I've had a couple original novels sketched out, but there are so many other demands on my time that I haven't gotten very far. I still plan to see the novels through, even if no one but interested friends and family read them.  

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I used to watch an episode and really study the actors' expressions and actions, always trying to find new angles to the stories we all know. A lot of times things would just come to me and I'd get so excited I couldn't sleep until I wrote a good chunk of it down.

What's the story behind your pen name?

The friend who introduced me to fanfic told me the best way to choose a pen name was to make sure it derives from the show. For a couple days I looked at the titles and summaries of episodes and agonized over just the right name. Finally Piper Maru and the summary from Triangle, which mentions the Sargasso sea, stood out and just clicked.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My now husband always knew, and he thought it was cool that I had a hobby that made me so happy, but he was never a reader. My parents found out when I was about 24 and my step-dad would tell EVERYONE about it, much to my horror. Most reactions were of the bland, "Oh yeah? That's nice." variety but I definitely got some weird looks from others. The worst was when I found out how much of my racier MSR stories my parents read. My step-dad thought it was hilarious and teased me a little. My usually open-minded mom was uncomfortable, but tried to be supportive. It's all fun and games until your daughter starts writing psuedo-erotica for anyone to see!

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Circe Invidiosa very generously hosts a page for me at http://pipers.invidiosa.com.

(Posted by Lilydale on January 26, 2021)

[trilies]

an argument for AO3

So I’m in a conversation with someone who is kind of in the “against AO3″ camp, and they asked me a couple of questions. Namely, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable with pedophilia? Isn’t it sketchy that a beta website is asking for so much money despite reaching its goals?

And my answer became so long... I figured it might as well become its own post. Please bear in mind that this is cut from a whole conversation.

But here it is.

------

No. It doesn't seem sketchy to me at all. Why would it? I know we make jokes about how much money tumblr has cost the various sites which purchase it like Yahoo, but there's some truth there: it's really expensive to host a website to thousands and thousands of people. It's why we see so many tumblr owners trying to shoehorn in ads or make people buy services, or why Photobucket tried to pull that truly atrocious bullshit a year or two back. Without image hosting capabilities (tumblr and photobucket's big thing), the strain isn't as huge.... but AO3 is MASSIVE. It is hosting literally thousands of accounts, millions of stories. That's massive on a server scale alone, ignoring all the other work they do. Yeah, it's in beta... but that's because it's trying to reach a goal of being as good a fanfic archive as they can be, and they don't believe they've reached that goal yet. Being in beta means they can better listen to their uses on shit like tagging systems and make those changes. Not to mention, again, they are INCREDIBLY transparent. If you are worried about where the money is going, you can go on the site and they have all their stuff up there.

As for the pedophilia subject matter.... Please give me a moment. because there's honestly a lot to say on that particular issue, if nothing else. This will take a while, so if you see this and there hasn't been a reply yet.... I'm still typing lmao.

To start with, of course people are uncomfortable about pedophilia. However, there are a lot of problems with how pedophilia is viewed or *used* as an accusation in the current fandom climate.

For example, in honestly EXTREMELY recent times, I was told I was "defending" pedophilia because I disagreed that a character (an immortal food gijinka) was "minor-coded" or "designed as an underage teenager". (As a note, an argument for this view was that the character's breasts were too small.) When I pointed out, hey, that's kind of a fucked up accusation to throw at a complete stranger, especially as I am a CSA survivor, I was told "You have to be lying about that, then, because a real CSA survivor would understand."

c o o l

That's just my personal experience that happened within a couple of months. Other people have talked about running into people who think that a character turning 18 means they're a pedophile for still dating a 17 year old. Or running into people who think a 40 year old dating someone in their 30s is pedophilic. Or believe that even SHIPPING characters who were not yet 18 was pedophilic if you yourself were over 18.

(Of course, you also have the kinds of people who try to use Moral Purity as a way to bash ships they don't like. I once saw someone try to claim that a popular mlm ship, A/B, was pedophilic because one half of the equation looked young.... when some other artists drew him... Of course, on the side, this person liked to also get angry that *their* favorite ship, a dude/chick ship composing of A/C, wasn't more popular. So. You know.)

So that's one half of the problem: the word "pedophile" being so warped that a lot of people now have no idea if the person using it has a genuine concern or if the accuser is trying to smear someone who doesn't ship the same thing. FFnet and Tumblr have gone with the "burn it all down" approach, which hasn't actually helped anyone and is, to boot, sloppily moderated. So we know from history, from experience in cases like mine, that it doesn't help in that area.

The other half of the problem is... How far is too far?

This is where "anti" culture begins to find similarities with the whole Warriors for Innocence thing. If you completely and blindly block an entire tag, or anyone associated with it, you have to ask: who are you hurting? Warriors for Innocence hurt actual rape victim, and queer folk, and a whole lot of others. Far as I can tell, anti culture is on the route to the same thing, because I have yet to see appropriate answers to a lot of issues.

If one says "anything with underage sex in it is bad and should be banned", what about fics that tackle it in a serious manner? The young adult novel "Speak" deals with rape of an underage girl and how she works through that mental trauma; are fics with stories equivalent to that allowed? Do fics with underage sex have to focus purely on how it is Horrible And Bad to be allowed? Does only a chapter have to be allowed? A paragraph? An author's note? A tag? Or are we allowed to never explore dark subject matter?

Is fic with underage content in it only horrible if it's someone over the age of eighteen who writes it? Can a teenager write smut (terribly written as it may likely be) between teenage characters? Can a teenager write smut between a teenage character and an adult character? For the record, i did in fact, over the summer, run into someone who said that teens/minors "shouldn't even know about NSFW", which is asinine to me, because Abstinence Only is a terrible thing to put in schools, and somehow worse in a way when you try to put that into effect in fandom. If the answer is 'yes', what are you going to do, demand to see people's birth certificates in fandom?

(As a note, I think this is a terrible message to put into fandom for teenagers because I believe it will inevitably lead to self hatred and a warped view of sex. If you make the extremely simplified black-and-white statement of "teens and sex should never go together ever in any way", that's going to mess up teens who are starting to experience arousal in their bodies. The message, whether intended or not, ends up as "NSFW things are bad, which means my brain which thought NSFW thoughts is bad, and my brain thought those thoughts because my body had these feelings". )

(This is bad for any average teenager. This will be especially worse to CSA and rape victims, along with queer youth who, in a lot of places, are still struggling with their bodies and/or feelings because the world is still pretty damn queerphobic.)

Speaking of CSA and rape victims, what about those of them who write/read underage ships or dark content as a way to cope with what happened or Just Because? That's a thing lots of us do, especially those of us who don't look like the Perfect Victims people can use as an excuse for whatever crusade they're waging. I've heard anti types go "Well, it's an unhealthy way to cope" or claims that CSA/rape victims who write such dark content are "just as bad as their abusers"... But are they psychiatrists/therapists? Are they the psychiatrists/therapists of *those specific people*? Will you moderate this kind of content by forcefully interrogating CSA/rape victims to out their trauma to a complete stranger? Will you demand to speak to their therapists? Over fanfic?

When I was a teenager, I wrote all sorts of stuff. I wrote dark dub-con fic, because I liked to explore those dark feelings in the process and the aftermath separate from myself. I wrote a fic with a fairly young teenage girl (what age was kh2 kairi? who even knows, I sure didn't) falling for a MUCH older man built like a brick shit house so that there was never any doubt to him being an adult, even giving him her first kiss, because they were my favorite characters, I wanted both of them to have a moment of happiness (that i promptly ruined but hey), and, *in this fic*, I knew it would be alright. I knew the girl would always be in control, she'd be the one making moves, that the guy was nonthreatening and kind and protect her and work alongside her.

(and then I began the process of killing him off in the next paragraph through him saving her life, but, like. Drama (tm), baby)

This was all good for me. At an age where I was young, vulnerable, and figuring out weird shit like arousal and romantic feelings, it was *invaluable* to have a space where I could explore all of that while relatively safe from actual danger, even if the stuff I wanted to explore was a little messed up. This whole thing against AO3 wouldn't have helped me, and I'm pretty sure it's not helping a lot of other people too.

There is an issue with underage people and sex stuff- not just in fandom but in culture at large. We have Hollywood dressing up young girl actresses in super slinky or revealing clothes. We have schools saying girls basically should never wear shorts, and capitalism fucking this up further by only selling SUPER SHORT shorters. We have media of all sorts giving us adults, whether in real actors or character design, in the roles of young people. (See: "how do you do, fellow kids") We should probably take more care about fandom spaces, so that people of all ages don't feel pressured to engage in sexual shit they're not 100% game for or into, or just have it shoved into their faces without consent. It's a complex issue... and it's not stuff that can just be 'banned' and have that fix it.

AO3 has on its plate a very complex problem that will, if we're all honest, never have a perfect answer. It has given us the best that can possibly be asked for. It obeys the law by not having actual child pornography on it (aka visual proof of actual real children, defined by us law as such), which is closest to "objective" we can get at the current stage in humanity and state of fandom. It has a very comprehensive and moderated tag system, so that people can post warnings along their fic so that people don't stumble onto shit they don't need to, and so that people can moderate their own reading experience to some degree.

If some people aren't comfortable with AO3, that's fine. However, most of us are getting annoyed not with those people, but with the people who just blindly say "AO3 supports child porn and is probably stealing money" (statement simplified for the purpose of this post). It shows an ignorance of the fandom history that lead us here, no understanding in either AO3's practices or how expensive it is to run a site, and no consideration for how complex this problem can really be. It would be great if this was a black and white issue, if there was an easy answer as just "banning" certain kinds of content... but there isn't. And that's where I am.

[yohanes-magic-circle]

Digital Disguise: Chapter 5

(Impatient? Don’t like reading fics on Tumblr? The whole thing is up on AO3 now. I hope you enjoy it!)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

Normally, Yoshiko fell asleep pretty quickly after finishing up her stream, but tonight she couldn’t drift off. She could hear dogs restlessly barking outside, not that that would have kept her from sleeping. It was too hot for that, and the poor pups were evidently as irritated by the weather as she was. Even the fan in her room was barely helping. What’s more, she was still wrapped up in the mystery of her unidentifiable viewer. They never seemed to reveal anything about themselves, but did know instinctively what Yoshiko wanted and they seemed to have a genuine interest in Yohane’s world. And then there was thing they said about standing shoulder to shoulder with her in danger…

There was no hope of getting an answer, and she didn’t want to think about it any more, so she took her phone off charge and opened up Twitter. Yoshiko’s feed moved pretty quickly, as she had a lot of things to follow – idol news sites, Yohane fans, gaming feeds and of course her friends from Uranohoshi. The app had flipped back to Top Tweets again, annoyingly, but she couldn’t be bothered to set it back and just idly scrolled down the list. She saw all the usual stuff – a classic A-RISE video, some cute Pokémon art, Chika’s silly photos of Shiitake, the latest offers from Gamers.

Then, something caught Yoshiko’s eye. “I’m watching Yohane Time! Watch live here,” read Hanamaru’s tweet. It was the kind of automatically generated thing some account-linking things did, so the tweet itself wasn’t interesting, but she was surprised that Hanamaru had been watching her stream. In fact, Yoshiko had almost forgotten that she’d even set up an account for her friend – she never really saw her tweet much, and she didn’t seem that interested in using the computer beyond their initial session ages ago. Out of curiosity, she visited Hanamaru’s profile to see if she had bothered to use it at all.

“I’m watching Yohane Time! Watch live here” “I’m watching Yohane Time! Watch live here” “I’m watching Yohane Time! Watch live here” “I’m watching Yohane Time! Watch live here” “I’m watching Yohane Time! Watch live here”

Yoshiko couldn’t believe her eyes. Nothing but auto-tweets, stretching back for quite a few weeks of shows. Hanamaru hadn’t said a thing about watching them. Why would Hanamaru even link an account to Twitter in the first place? Still slightly sluggish due to her tired state, Yoshiko tried to put everything together.

These tweets started a little while after Hanamaru got her PC. Anyone can watch, even without an account. But Hanamaru had an account. What do you need an account to do? A crashing realisation hit Yoshiko. You need an account to chat.

There were always new names popping in and out of the stream chat, but the only consistent new user of note recently was… Musashino. Could it be that Musashino had secretly been her oldest friend all along? It’d make sense. She knew unusual words, and she seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing Yoshiko’s likes and dislikes. Even the slow replies could suddenly be explained – Hanamaru’s typing speed was atrocious because she hadn’t grown up using keyboards (in fact, Yoshiko couldn’t help laughing when she started typing with just the index finger of each hand). Yoshiko decided that it was time to press Google into service as a detective. She searched “Musashino Hanamaru Kunikida” and hoped for the best.

She saw loads of results, nothing to do with her friend, but lots about a book – Musashino, by Doppo Kunikida. Yoshiko clicked an encyclopedia link. It was apparently a work of classic Japanese literature, a book of short stories about people who fall behind the times. That settled it. A name like that was just too perfect. The family name, an old book, self-deprecating humour? That couldn’t be the work of anybody but Zuramaru. But that only raised more questions. Hanamaru was always the first to shut Yoshiko down when Yohane came out at school, but Musashino was a regular viewer of Yohane Time and was super excited by Yohane’s tales of conflict between the divine and the demonic. Could they really be one and the same – and if they were, why hadn’t Hanamaru told Yoshiko about the fact that she was watching?

On the other hand… It was nice to have that sort of attention. Musashino had made her feel so happy over the last few weeks, and she’d wanted to know more – she’d even wondered if she could meet this person, before dismissing the idea as unsafe. The concept that it might have been Hanamaru all along was… quite intriguing. Even considering the possibility that Musashino wasn’t just an oddly perceptive stranger and was in fact a long-term friend, Yoshiko was amazed by how much Hanamaru seemed to know about her. Few people would catch on to her little preferences like hot food, although on further consideration it wouldn’t be surprising for Hanamaru to fixate on food. And Yoshiko couldn’t help but keep coming back to that one thing about how Musashino would stand against adversity with her. Hanamaru would definitely do that, wouldn’t she? That much was obvious with how protective she was over Ruby – but she was never secretive over her friendship with Ruby. She didn’t tease Ruby even half as much, either. Hanamaru was definitely close to both of them, but it was a different kind of closeness in each case. Could it be that, actually, Hanamaru…?

Yoshiko didn’t dare finish that thought, because… Oh. Yoshiko felt her heart fluttering. She knew what her luck was like – to even think about it might break the spell, and she didn’t want that because she  wanted  Hanamaru to be that interested in her. In that moment, it dawned on Yoshiko that she had something of a crush on Hanamaru.

Still a bit delirious from her lack of sleep, but newly energised by this exciting possibility, Yoshiko acted on impulse. She got out of bed with a start and sat down at her computer. If Zuramaru liked her live streams, she thought, then she wouldn’t be able to resist a show where it was just the two of them. That would definitely be the best way to approach things. She opened up her email and began to type an invitation.

“Little demon, you have been summoned! Stand before Yohane –”

Yoshiko immediately deleted that garbage. If she was going to be able to explore these feelings with Hanamaru, she should do it properly.

“Hanamaru-chan, I want to talk with you. I’ll make a video call–”

Wait a second, thought Yoshiko. Hanamaru, if it even was her, was tuning in for Yohane Time rather than Yoshiko Time. What if that was the appeal? She started typing another, slightly less grandiose (but unmistakably chuuni) invitation and trashed it almost instantly. Half a dozen attempts followed, each slightly less brilliant than the last. Whether it was the heat, her tiredness or the sudden pressure of the situation, she couldn’t find the words. If only she had Hanamaru’s vocabulary. Yoshiko glanced at the clock. 3:24am. She was already going to be an absolute mess at school tomorrow, if she even managed to wake up at all. She had to get this done  now . Yoshiko hastily bashed out an invitation email and sent it, reasoning that at this point any thinking was overthinking. She then climbed back into bed and finally managed to achieve slumber.

18 hours later, Yoshiko was back in her room, drinking coffee. She was utterly exhausted from the night before, and practice had been a nightmare. As a result, she’d made sure to set up her streaming backdrop extra early – she’d ultimately decided that Yohane was the right persona with which to approach the situation. But really, the coffee was an insurance policy more than anything – Yoshiko was wired, barely able to contain her excitement for her one on one chat with Hanamaru. She ran over scenarios in her head, trying to keep herself calm enough that she didn’t trip over her words when she finally spoke them aloud.

10:00pm arrived. Yoshiko stood prepared, ready to see the other name pop up in chat. A couple of minutes passed. No big deal – Musashino hadn’t always been instantly on time, probably because Hanamaru still wasn’t great with computers. A few more minutes passed. Where might she be? At 10:10pm, Yoshiko sat down on her bed and checked her phone. No reply to the email. Her only message was from You, who’d shared a boating picture in the Aqours group chat. No sign of Hanamaru…

Yoshiko awoke in a daze, still sitting on her bed. She glanced over at the candles she’d lit for the show, and they were close to burning out. How long had she been asleep? Her phone told her it was 1:15am. She got up and looked at her stream chat.

Nobody had entered. Why hadn’t Hanamaru entered?

Something that felt like a tornado of emotions immediately hit Yoshiko. She’d built herself up and got so excited, and for what? Hanamaru didn’t show up. Maybe she was busy? Maybe she’d been wrong about Hanamaru being Musashino? No, she thought. It couldn’t something so mundane. In her fatigued state, Yoshiko was in no position to resist the wave of negativity washing over her. She’d probably been ignored. Maybe Hanamaru had even been watching her streams just to make fun of Yohane some more. Yeah, it was probably all some elaborate joke at her expense. Why had she been so stupid as to let herself believe that someone would actually like her for all that middle school nonsense? How could she have been so naive?

She didn’t know and she didn’t have the energy to think about it any longer. Yoshiko crumpled back onto her bed and buried her head into her pillow, quietly sobbing herself back to sleep.

[blustersquall]

Only Make Believe // Chapter 11: Nieces, Trees, and Histories

Please be advised that tumblr no longer allows posts with links to outgoing sites to appear in tags. So, to try and get around this, you can read this fic on AO3 by clicking on the source link at the bottom of the post.  Alternatively, you can find the master post on my blog, with links to all chapters on tumblr, AO3, and ff.net.

Chapter art commissioned from @rainbowd00dles​

December 20th

--

"How many is that now?" Nevena waited for Matilda to add the last of the raw cookies to the baking tray.

"Twenty four on this tray. And we've got another twenty four ready for icing and twelve of the extra large ones finished." Matilda stepped away from the oven. Nevena gathered up the tray, opened the oven and slotted it inside. She adjusted the timer, setting it for twelve minutes as she got to her feet. "How many more do you think we'll need?" asked Matilda.

"Probably a thousand," laughed Nevena. She leaned her weight against the counter top and looked around the kitchen. Piled up in the huge double sink were all the mixing and measuring bowls they used to make the dough. On a central island counter were biscuits ready to be decorated, and bags of icing in red, white, black, and green. The extra large cookies were finished and put safely aside so the decorations and icing could dry.

"How many do you think we can make with what we have?" Matilda shuffled over to the island counter and hopped up into one of the high seats.

"Well, we have forty-eight already." Nevena raking her fingers gently through Matilda's hair and tied it back for her. "With the two batches dough we still have in the fridge... I would guess another forty eight normal sized ones, or twenty four big ones." After washing her hands, she joined her niece at the counter to sit beside her. "But you'd already worked that out."

Matilda smiled shyly and ducked her head. "Maybe," she shrugged. "I was just testing you."

"My math skills are pretty atrocious," Nevena remarked. After watching Matilda poke her tongue out in concentration as she iced, Nevena took one of the biscuits shaped like holly, picked up the green icing bag and began to make an outline. "How is school, anyway? You didn't mention it in your last email. Everything okay?"

"Sure." Matilda didn't look up from her task. "Everything is fine."

Nevena arched a brow but did not press the matter. Matilda was in that awkward stage of no longer being a child, but not quite a teenager. They emailed back and forth on a fairly regular basis despite Nevena's temporary estrangement. According to Matilda, she had gotten Nevena's email from Josef who kept it on hand. Ineria didn't know. Nevena liked it that way.

They iced their biscuits quietly. Nevena kept glancing at Matilda, admiring her determination to make her biscuits look as perfect and pristine as possible. By comparison, hers were like a three-year-old colouring outside the lines. But they would taste good. That was what mattered.

Matilda sighed wearily. The kind of sigh that was more suitable for an old man than a twelve-year-old, "Mum made me go in for the school play."

"She said in her Christmas card." Nevena kept her focus on the icing, not wanting Matilda to feel intimidated. "She said you got the lead."

"Only because she complained when I was initially cast as part of the chorus. She complained to the school and they gave me the lead, and the girl who got it originally was given my part... I didn't even want to audition."

"Why not?"

"I don't like being on stage." Matilda put her icing bag down and used a cocktail stick to smooth out the icing on her snowman. "I like doing stuff behind the scenes. Originally I wanted to do something like stage manager, or lighting... But when I told mum I was thinking about helping out with the school play, she just got so excited... She never gets excited about things I enjoy. So I..."

"Felt obligated?"

"Maybe, a little."

"And, let me guess," Nevena smiled, wryly. "She told you how she always used to get the leads in all the school productions?"

"Yep." Matilda grabbed another biscuit to begin decorating. "She still has all these old programs, and photo albums. She was so enthusiastic... I didn't want to disappoint her and tell her I only meant to help backstage."

Nevena put her sprig of holly to one side and grabbed a cookie shaped like a reindeer. "Why do you think you'd disappoint her?"

"I don't know," shrugged Matilda. "She never gets excited about anything else I do."

"What do you mean?" Nevena placed the icing bag on the counter and turned to face Matilda fully, giving her undivided attention. Matilda's gaze was focused down onto her new biscuit and she had her tongue out to one side as she iced. "Matilda?"

"Well... I was part of the Mathlete team this year, and we placed first in our age range. And I was part of the debate team. When I told mum... I don't know, she didn't seem to care." Matilda picked up the cookie and examined it. "I messed up." She showed it to Nevena. There was a small smear of white icing seeping into red.

"It's not that bad." Nevena hopped off her chair, grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and carefully started to remove the still wet icing. She gave the biscuit back to Matilda when she was done. "The new icing will cover the old colouration. No one will know."

Matilda smiled briefly, "Did I tell you I won an award at school?"

"No." Nevena checked on the biscuits in the oven still cooking to make sure they weren't burning. She returned to the island counter. "What was the award for?"

"Maths."

"Of course," Nevena grinned. "I expected nothing less. I meant what, specifically, was the award for?"

"Just for math. Mathematical excellence, I think the Principle said," Matilda giggled. "I got a little silver cup and they're going to engrave my name on it. And it's been suggested I take an advanced class in the spring semester. My teachers say I'm not being challenged enough."

"That's so great!" Nevena gave her a one armed hug, not wanting to squeeze too tight and disturb Matilda's hands while she was concentrating. "You tell your parents?"

"Yeah," Matilda's voice fell. "Dad was really excited."

Nevena pursed her lips. "What did your mum say?"

Again, Matilda fell silent and channelled all her focus into the task before her of decorating. Nevena resumed icing the cookies too, sitting quietly keeping an ear out for the timer. She noticed that Matilda held her breath whenever she was icing an outline or a particularly intricate detail and that her tongue was almost always out signifying her concentration.

"Did you ever feel like Nana and Grandpa didn't like you? Or... regretted having you?" asked Matilda in a small voice. She held her freshly iced Father Christmas in front of her between her fingertips. Nevena puffed her cheeks out before she said anything, the few seconds that took giving her a moment to think. That was a deep and troubling question for a twelve-year-old– to feel, and to feel she needed to ask.

"Your mum loves you," Nevena said. She took the biscuit from Matilda's fingers and put it on the counter before grasping her hands. "She might have a funny way of showing it, but she loves you, Matilda. I promise. She would never regret having you." She brushed some of Matilda's hair out of her face.

"She just doesn't seem interested in me. At all." Matilda stared down at her feet dangling above the floor. "She always has something to say about the things I do, like my achievements aren't good enough for her. But she's always praising Dante and Rowan for doing the most basic things, like keeping their rooms tidy."

"Listen," Nevena lowered her voice and chose her words as she spoke them. "Your mum is a lot of things, I grew up with her so I should know. But I know for a fact that she loves you, and I think she just has a lot of trouble expressing herself. She doesn't understand math or science... or the things you're interested in."

"You don't either. But you're nicer than she is."

"I'm your aunt, sweetie." Nevena smiled. "And I know what it's like to feel like a fish out of water."

"I can't talk to her." Matilda murmured. "We just get into a fight and then I have to go to my room because I answer back, or something."

"I got that same treatment from your Nana and Grandpa."

"I just want her to be interested in the things I'm interested in."

"Of course," Nevena nodded, "that's totally normal and natural."

Matilda bit her lip for a moment, still staring at the floor. "Do you think you could talk to her?" she asked in a softly. "Dad's already tried and they got into a fight. And I can't ask Aunt Ari or Aunt Tilly, cause they'll just take mum's side, or tell me I'm being silly... Or that I'll grow out of the math stuff when I get older - but I don't want to grow out of it. I like it! I'm good at it! And--"

"It's okay." Nevena's grip changed to Matilda's arms as the young girl began to breathe more quickly. She rubbed her upper arms. "It's okay, Matilda. Calm down, it's okay." She continued to stroke Matilda's arm while her mind wrestled with what was just put to her.

Ineria was the last person Nevena wanted to spend any one-on-one time with right now, but getting her alone was likely the only way she would be able to talk to her about Matilda. If it was an adult asking her to speak to Ineria on their behalf, Nevena would have refused outright. But it was Matilda, and she recognised the place where Matilda's upset was coming from. She also recognized the first signs of a rift developing between mother and daughter which could prove irreparable if Ineria didn't begin to change her point of view and embrace Matilda as she was, rather that attempting to live vicariously through her.

"I'll talk to her for you," Nevena said. She cupped Matilda's face in her hands and wiped away big tears that spilled from her eyes when Matilda lifted her head. "Okay? I'll speak to her."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Nevena smiled. "I can't promise she'll take on board what I have to say, but I will speak to her."

Matilda smiled through her tears, sniffled and after composing herself returned to decorating the biscuits. The timer on the oven bleeped and Nevena hopped off her chair. As she took the biscuits from the oven she felt the gnawing dread at the back of her mind that talking to Ineria might do more harm than good.

Cullen watched with quiet amusement as Rowan bolted through the maze of fir trees on display with Dante following doggedly behind, struggling to keep up with his older brother. Josef had them in sight at all times, keep up to their pace but giving them some distance so they could play.

Spending some time away from Nevena and her sisters was a good idea. Cullen's head felt clearer now than it had for days, and he found the more time he spent with Josef the more he liked him. He was a decent man who loved his family. He worked hard and Cullen found him upfront and honest - the complete antithesis to Ineria.

The drive to Redcliffe took just over an hour and it was a picturesque city. The Frostbacks faded into the distance, giving away to natural red coloured hills and out-croppings. The snow had not settled so thickly in Redcliffe - just enough so everything was covered in a light layer of white. The branches of the fir trees spattered snow on the ground whenever they were disturbed, but it wasn't icy or particularly cold. The city reminded Cullen of a smaller Denerim. Not as built up and bustling, it moved at its own pace, but it was well populated. There was a larger variety of people and businesses than in Edgehall too.

Before now, Cullen never realised how competitive the Christmas tree business was. Josef drove the four of them to a retail park where half the car park was cordoned off and assigned for Christmas tree vendors. Each vendor had their own section and they each vied for the business of every single person in the vicinity. There were a few small stalls too, one for handmade baubles that could have names or pictures etched into them, another for delicate wooden Christmas figures, and another two or three selling stockings, stocking fillers, and other random odds and ends.

Since arriving at the retail park they had visited at least eight different tree vendors. Dante and Rowan examined the trees with discerning eyes, declaring when one did not meet their exacting criteria that it was 'too green' or 'not green enough'. Cullen recalled one was too small by their standards, but when Cullen looked at it he knew it would be up to the ceiling in his own apartment. Some of the trees had 'too many branches', some 'had prickly needles', and others 'didn't smell right'. Cullen wondered how Josef kept his composure, but Josef listened and nodded, and accepted his sons’ comments openly, always suggesting they move on to another vendor and look there.

"Don't run too far, boys!" Cullen heard Josef's voice and caught up to him. "Sorry to drag you around like this, Cullen. Didn't think the boys would be so... selective."

Cullen smiled, "That's alright." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "They know what they're after, can't fault them for that."

"True." Josef folded his arms and leaned back a little. He was older than Cullen by at least ten years or more and it showed through the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Cullen was taller, only by a few inches, but Josef was definitely broader than he was. It wasn't often Cullen felt even mildly intimidated, but Josef was one man who he would potentially be intimidated by if he was ever angry. Luckily, Josef seemed extremely mellow and not one to be angered easily. "No, Dante - don't try and climb it." Despite his scolding Josef was grinning.

"Honestly, it's nice to get out of the house," Cullen said. "Things with Nevena were a little... fraught, yesterday. We talked it out, but a bit of space never hurts."

"Ah, yeah." Josef rubbed his chin uncomfortably. "Monty and Owen filled me when I came downstairs after Dante fell asleep. I thought I heard raised voices..." He paused and huffed. "I'm sorry about Ineria. She can be... destructive."

"No need to apologize," Cullen replied very slowly. He liked Josef, but he was Ineria's husband and following the confrontation the day before, Cullen now decided to keep his guard up and tread carefully should she or Nevena come up in conversation. "Siblings fight. My older sister and I used to bicker all the time."

Josef chuckled quietly, "But what happened last night wasn't bickering." His chuckle drew into a deep sigh. "Ever since I've known her, Ineria has always had it in for Nevena." He started walking, following Rowan and Dante through another cluster of trees. Cullen fell into step beside him. "I don't know why. Nevena's never been anything but kind to me, and she loves the kids, too."

"They've never been close?" asked Cullen.

"Not really. There's a twelve year gap between them for starters and..." He caught himself, looked at Cullen, looked at the ground, and then the sky. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this. It's a bit sensitive to the family."

"You don't have to," Cullen told him, meaning it. He didn't want to know any information pertaining to Nevena that she did not tell him herself.

"It might help you understand last night..." Josef ran a hand back through his salt-and-pepper hair, making it more of a mess than it already was. Cullen said nothing. He waited to see if Josef would divulge what was clearly weighing on his mind. He was not going to push, even if he was tempted to learn more. He did not want another fight with Nevena and if he did not ask, then she could not assume he was digging for information. It would be information freely given... Though Cullen doubted Nevena would see it that way, if it came up. "Did you know Nevan and Katrin had a son?"

"No." Cullen turned his gaze on Josef who was watching his own boys chase each other through the trees, the difficult decision of picking one forgotten for the moment. "Well, I mean. Nevena’s has mentioned it in passing. But never gone into detail."

"That's not surprising." Josef slipped one hand into his pocket, the other he rubbed over the short beard on his chin. "He died when he was four. I don't think Nevena was even born yet."

"He died?" repeated Cullen, controlling the surprise in his voice. Suddenly he was acutely aware of other people around him, that they might over hear a very private and sensitive topic of conversation. He was also aware of how personal the information was, and was not sure he wanted to know about it.

"It was an accident. From what Ineria has told me, she, Clotilde, Arienne and their brother, Nevan Junior were visiting a park with the nanny. Ineria turned around to talk to Clotilde and a friend who they met there. They were meant to be watching Nevan and Arienne, while the nanny was getting ice cream, or something." Josef shifted uncomfortably. Cullen could see him imagining one of his own sons in the situation he was recounting. A scenario Josef was apparently struggling with. "One minute Nevan was playing a game with some other kids and Arienne. The next... Ineria says she remembers the screech of tires and then nothing until the ambulance arrived. Nevan had run into the road to grab his ball. The driver did everything she could to avoid him but….”." Josef cleared his throat.

“Was she on the phone or something? Speeding?” asked Cullen.

“No,” Josef sighed and rubbed his chin, “no. Nothing like that. There was a police investigation. She did everything she could to avoid him. Did nothing wrong. She was cleared of all charges. The car company, however,” He folded his arms. “There was a fault or something with the brakes. According to Ineria the company was aware of this issue, but up to that point any incidents had been minor. No fatalities. After Nevan was killed... well, there was a massive legal battle after that.”

Cullen stood with him in awkward silence, hands in his pockets not quite sure what to say. Of course it was a terrible tragedy. That any family should have to bury a child was undoubtedly horrific and something Cullen hoped he would never experience if he had children. He was still confused, though as to how Nevan Junior's death caused Ineria to behave  the way she did towards Nevena. After a lengthy minute or two of silence, Cullen shifted his weight. In doing so he nudged Josef who smiled weakly.

"Sorry." Josef rubbed his face and ran his hands back through his hair. "For for drifting off there, I was telling you something serious wasn't I?"

"That's okay. I can imagine it's... easy to imagine Dante or Rowan in that kind of position." Cullen glanced at the two boys when he mentioned them. "You take your eyes away for a split second."

"Yeah." Josef clicked his tongue. "Yeah... And Ineria can be harsh on them, but she does love them. Fiercely."

"I believe you," Cullen replied, nodding a few times. "But, I don't understand why Ineria is the way she is to Nevena? If she wasn't even born then... how can Ineria justify her animosity towards her? She had nothing to do with the accident."

"No," Josef agreed. He tilted his head one side then the other as if working out a knot or a kink. "I think a lot of it stems from Ineria blaming herself for being distracted. Nevena was born about a year after Nevan died. I think Ineria saw Nevena as a poor replacement for the brother she and her sister's doted on. There was only about a year or so between his death and Nevena’s birth, I think..." He sighed. "Instead of dealing with her grief, she decided to place the blame on Nevena instead, the poor replacement. And I think she's felt like that for so long, she's convinced herself, Clotilde and Arienne, to a certain extent, that it's the truth."

"That... Nevena is to blame for Nevan's death?" Cullen squinted. "But... how does that make sense if she wasn't even born?"

Josef inhaled. "It doesn't. But--"

“Do they blame her for not being Nevan Junior, then?” pressed Cullen, annoyance beginning to lance through his tone.

"Dad!" Dante rounded one of the trees cutting Josef off midsentence. He grabbed his father's hand from his pocket and started to pull. "We found the best tree!"

"Okay, okay," Josef laughed, "show me." He scooped Dante up and followed his directions.

Cullen followed a few steps behind, quietly frustrated at Dante for interrupting but, again, finding himself uncertain as to whether he wanted to know more. He was starting to understand Ineria's aggression towards Nevena now, though it was misplaced grief and Nevena did not deserve it, at all, he could understand Ineria's frame of mind. Blame and grief could do incredible things and warp a mind... Ineria being unable to face her grief, she'd turned her anger on the person she considered a replacement for her brother.

Still, that did not help Cullen in deciding if he wanted to know more, or not. He was curious, but such a sensitive topic was not best discussed in public, or in the presence of children. Part of him wondered if Nevena knew more that she was letting on about her brother, but that hardly made sense if he died before she was born. He didn't imagine her family were forth coming about such a delicate and tragic aspect of their history. And from all the photographs in the manor house, Cullen could not recall seeing a photo of any young boys besides Dante and Rowan.

He would take his lead from Josef, he decided. If Josef wanted to continue what he was saying then Cullen would allow him to, and listen. If not, then he would not press the matter and he would not mention it again, unless asked. Under no uncertain terms would he discuss it with Nevena. That was a can of worms he did not want to open.

The tree Rowan and Dante picked out was a sturdy, tall one. It stuck out to them because the branches were 'the perfect length' and it was 'not too green, but green enough'. Those reasons appeased Josef and he sent Rowan off to find the vendor and ask to have the tree carefully packed in twine so they could get it onto the car and go home. Rowan dashed away to fulfil his task, while Dante continued to look at other trees, apparently in his own little world.

"You know, I don't know if anyone else has told you this, but you and Nevena make a nice couple." Josef rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms, smiling. Cullen returned the smile. Clearly Josef had no intention of carrying on their previous conversation. Cullen did not blame him in the least. "She seems really happy with you."

"Except for yesterday afternoon," Cullen smirked wryly.

"All couples have their fights," shrugged Josef. "You and Nevena are still getting to know each other, really."

"You're not wrong there..." Cullen gave a strained laugh. If Josef only knew how right he was! "Thanks, though. Appreciate the sentiment."

Josef offered a little nod of his head. "It's funny, she's always looking at you when you're not looking at her. And vice versa." He chuckled a little.

Cullen felt a warmth blossom on his face and coughed awkwardly. "Hah," he barked. "Really?" He did not look at Nevena. Not when she wasn't looking. Except maybe during dinner. And during the ice skating. And even if he did, it was a friendly look.

"I don't think I've ever seen her look at someone the way she looks at you," Josef added, his smile growing in warmth. Cullen managed not to choke on his own breath. "You're a good fit for her."

Ruffling his hands through his hair, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and inhaled deeply, hoping that it might relieve the warmth in his face and the tightness in his chest. The prospect of Nevena looking at him in any way, beyond friendly, was a bad, bad thought. Because then he might suspect her of having confused feelings sparking inside her. The same confused feelings that were already ignited inside him. Feelings he wanted to extinguish before things between them became weird, and too complex to see night from day. Puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled, Cullen shoved both hands in his pockets.

"Thanks." His smile felt more like a wince when he looked at Josef. "I'm glad at least someone in the family approves of me."

"Nevan, right?" Josef clucked. "Yeah. He's... not an easy man to win over." There was a tinge of exasperation in his voice. Josef clearly spoke from experience. "Anyway - if you and Nevena have no plans while you're staying you should bring her to Redcliffe."

"Oh?" Cullen arched a brow. "Why's that?"

"There's a pre-Andrastian church here. Nevena used to be into theology and architecture. If that's still something she enjoys, she'd probably like to visit," Josef grinned. "And I'm sure you'd have fun too. Nothing nicer than seeing the face of someone you care about light up when they doing or looking at something they're interested in, right?"

Cullen laughed awkwardly. "You're not wrong there..." He grimaced, turning to the sound of Rowan's voice as it drew closer.

"Maybe mention Redcliffe to her." Josef patted Cullen on the shoulder just as the vendor appeared through the trees with a proud Rowan a few steps ahead. Cullen sank back against the other Christmas trees while Josef spoke to the vendor. He was starting to wish he had not agreed to come to Redcliffe, because now he was trying to figure out how to ask Nevena if she wanted to visit, without it becoming more than just a friendly outing between friends.

Because that was what they were. Friends.

Just friends.

After arriving back at Haven, Cullen helped Josef, Rowan and Dante bring their selected tree into the house. Owen and Monty assisted in setting it up in an ornate metal stand in one corner of the family living room- while Clotilde and Arienne offered helpful, conflicting instructions. Matilda arrived, following the noise, and she carried with her a tray of beautifully iced biscuits. Not wanting to add more fuel to an already confusing fire of rising voices and barking orders, Cullen slipped out of the living room and ventured down towards the kitchens. Having not seen Nevena upstairs, he could only assume that was where she still was.

It would be an opportunity for him to mention Redcliffe. It was a good idea, and one he appreciate Josef suggesting to him, and the journey back from Redcliffe gave Cullen ample time to come up with a friendly and non-committal way for him to approach them visiting. A way that added no pressure or expectations. It was just a city he visited and thought she might like to take a day trip to while they had a few days of nothing planned.

Cullen wanted to kick himself. He was rarely such a bundle of wound up, confused nerves. He wasn't immensely confident either, but he was never like this. Not with previous girlfriends, and not with friends. He could be confident with clients because it was all an act. He knew that, and the client knew that. Being confident was part of that act. With his feelings towards Nevena so muddied and tangled up, it was hard to know which camp she fit in. She wasn't a girlfriend, but the feelings all jumbled up in his brain made 'friend' not quite sit right. And to call her a 'client' sounded too impersonal now.

He hoped a casual visit to Redcliffe where they could simply hang out might help put things into place and remove any confusion they both felt. It would be the two of them, hanging out, as friends. And doing so would, ideally, remove any conflicting emotions. Emotions Nevena may or may not have been experiencing. Cullen didn't know for certain.

His palms were sweaty when he opened the kitchen door, so he wiped them on his jeans. The kitchen smelled of cookies and ginger, and reminded him of his sister's house whenever she spent the day baking. On a central island counter were used icing bags, and smears of green, red, white, and black icing on the surface. Nevena stood at the double basin, her back to the door, and her loose down her back. To her right were stacks of dirty utensils and bowls, and to her left were clean items on a draining board. A little further away was another tray of finished biscuits like the one Cullen saw Matilda carrying.

"Need any help?" Cullen saw Nevena physically jump to the sound of his voice and something clattered into the water. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no." Nevena peered over her shoulder. Cullen approached and grabbed a dish towel to start with drying the items already draining. "I was in my own little world." She smiled at him when he picked up a bowl. "How was Christmas tree shopping?"

"It was a success," Cullen told her. "After a long, long search, Dante and Rowan were able to find one that they both agreed was the most Christmassy of Christmas trees."

Nevena laughed though her nose, "I'm sorry. I guess they can be a bit much."

"It's fine. I enjoyed myself," Cullen smiled at her. "They're good kids. And Josef's a really good guy. I like him a lot."

"Yeah, Joe is great. I've always liked him. Maker knows how Ineria married someone so nice." Nevena slipped a spoon onto the draining rack. "Did you like Redcliffe? I haven't been there in years."

"It's a pretty place. Kind of like a quiet Denerim." Cullen put a dry measuring bowl with the other two he already dried and picked up a sieve next. For some reason his stomach churned at the prospect of asking Nevena to visit the city with him again. It was only a question. A question he had yet to ask. And a question she had yet to answer. She could say 'no' for all he knew. And he would never know, unless he asked.

Maker's breath, he was not very good at this when it came down to it. He much preferred acting the part.

"Apparently there's quite a historical site in Redcliffe," Nevena beat him to it. She stared at her hands in the sink, thoroughly washing a spoon that was already spotless. "A pre-Andrastian church. One of the last in Ferelden."

"Would you like you go?" Cullen blurted out. He hid his grimace behind an expression he hoped was thoughtful while he continued to dry. He could feel her looking at him and words were stuffing themselves onto his tongue, fighting to get free. "That is, uh," he added hurriedly when Nevena didn't speak, "if you're interested. W-we have nothing planned."

"Yes! Absolutely! I'd love to!" Nevena said. She wore a warm, sincere smile when Cullen glanced at her face. Painfully sincere, almost as if someone asking her to do something she might enjoy was a foreign concept to her. Cullen's chest tightened. "I-I mean... It… I would like that. It'd be fun." A blush rose to her cheeks and her focus went back to the washing up.

Once Cullen was caught up with the drying, they fell into an easy rhythm. The soiled bowls and utensils were quickly depleted and could be put away. Cullen returned the different items to their cupboards and drawers, while Nevena washed down the sink with a clean cloth and warm water. While placing a mixing bowl in one of the top cupboards, Cullen's nose was suddenly filled with the strong smell of cookies, shortbread and gingerbread. He realised the cupboard was directly over the last batch of biscuits due to be taken upstairs.

"These look really good." Cullen picked one up. "Smell great, too."

"Don't you dare eat that." Nevena reached for it, Cullen held it out of her grasp, just above his head. "They're not for eating yet!" She stretched, her task of cleaning off the sink forgotten for now. Even on tiptoe she couldn't reach.

"It's one biscuit," Cullen protested. A few crumbs flaked off on his fingers. "I just saw Matilda carrying up a massive tray. No one will miss one."

"I'll miss it." Nevena narrowed her eyes.

"No one else needs to know," teased Cullen, tapping the end of her nose with his finger. "It can be a secret."

Her eyes narrowed even further. "I'll know," said Nevena, eyes flitting between the biscuit in his fingers, his face, and... Cullen swore her eyes dropped to his mouth and remained there for a second or two longer than the other places she looked. "Put it back." Cullen lowered his arm a little, his focus no longer solely on his sweet tooth.

Tapping her nose again, Cullen slowly moved his finger lower, brushing down over the tip of her nose, along the curve of her Cupid's bow and following the attractive, full swell of her bottom lip. He heard Nevena's breath catch, his own becoming a little shorter to take. Cullen shifted, and Nevena mirrored him, moving what might have only been an inch closer. Her teeth grazed the end of his thumb when she moved, and he would have sworn to feeling the tip of her tongue brush his skin, too. He felt a pleasurable shiver rush down his spine and the hair of the back of his neck stand. A rational, and sensible part of Cullen's mind was telling him to stop. He was already confused and if he followed the instincts pulsing through him it would only make things worse. But that rational voice was dulled and silenced by the thudding of Cullen's heart at the back of his throat.

"Uhm..." Cullen snapped from his haze at the sound of Nevena's voice. She swept a lock of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks were now a dark red, the colour only growing deeper by the moment. "You, uhm... You still haven't put the cookie back," Nevena explained. She bit her bottom lip and her eyelids fluttered slightly. Her pupils were wide when she looked at him, eyes gleaming. She lowered her eyelids almost erotically and in that moment Cullen couldn’t recall seeing anything as enticing.

He wasn't sure who moved first.

One moment they were standing in a tense silence, one of his hands elevated, a biscuit between his thumb and forefinger. The next moment, the biscuit clattered onto the tray with the others and the only thing in Cullen's mind was Nevena. Lips meeting in a hard, devastating kiss. Teeth clacking clumsily as all sense and reason fled from them both. His mind was swimming and he was utterly immersed in her within moments. Her hands were still damp from cleaning up - he felt water on his skin from her one hand curving around his jaw. The other was in his hair, fingers curled up in his locks, all but pulling by the root. Cullen cradled the back of her skull in one hand, the other slipped along her waist, two fingers inching underneath her jumper to the bare skin beneath.

With a firm guiding hand, he closed the space remaining between them and pushed Nevena back against the counter. She gasped at the impact of the edge of the surface in her back, but Cullen swallowed the sound. Nevena's hand at his jaw was suddenly wrapped around his neck and across his shoulders, bringing him closer, her fingers in his hair knotted tighter. Her kisses were hungry, verging on desperate, like someone denied water for days suddenly allowed to quench their thirst. She was greedy, soft moans spilling from her mouth into his. There was a white heat behind each brush of her lips that felt like a bolt of lightning down Cullen's spine. The rawness made it more exciting.

Cullen met each kiss with reckless enthusiasm the sensible side of his mind now gone and likely never to be heard from again. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth when she sucked in a gulp of air, a playful gesture and one that had her lips crashing into his again. He pressed his tongue between her lips, angling her head back to deepen their connection. Her fingers clenched into the fabric of his shirt and she teetered on her toes. Cullen encircled her waist with both arms, hand slipping under her clothing, his fingers spread over the expanse of soft, warm skin he found, eager to explore and map it. To commit it to memory. He raked his nails across the small of her back and was rewarded with a low, primal groan and Nevena’s hips jerking against his. His hips stuttered in reply. Another deep sound came from her throat, too faint for him to discern whether it was his name or not. He liked the sound, however, and dragged his fingers over her skin once more, pressing his hips into hers,  in the hopes that she might make the noise for him again.

He got his wish.

His name spilled from Nevena’s lips, her voice less a moan, and more a begging mewl. There was no space between them any longer; he could feel every subtle move of her lithe, lean body against his. The delicious friction created by her writhing and the layers of clothing between them did not help matters, sending a steady heat lacing through his veins, causing his cock to harden.

Dragging his lips from hers, he left a trail of kisses across her cheek moving to her ear. He released a long breath, blowing air over her skin and watching through half-hooded eyes tendrils of golden blonde hair flutter away. When he shifted, she copied him, parting her legs without any hinting or coaxing. Cullen smiled against her cheek. He closed his teeth around the lobe of her ear, biting down and suckling, his pleasure only increasing when he heard her inhale and gulp down an audible breath. Again, he dragged his fingers over her skin, down the full length of her back this time, scratching with his nails and pulling at the strap of her bra until it pinged back into place. She arched into him beautifully, shuddering in his hands, a moan staggering from between her lips. He pressed his body to hers, grinding against the juncture between her thighs and earning a staggered moan in reply.

“Hmmph-- Cullen—“ Nevena whimpered, her voice quivering, low, and brimming over with desire. Her fingers clutched tighter to his clothing, stationary in their position, and vice-like in their grip, but attempting to pull him closer. Any movement she made seemed to be utterly automatic, and it was as though instinct was calling the shots. That, for now, her over thinking mind had stopped and was allowing her this. Just as his had stopped. Cullen’s mind was silent, his wants and selfish desires instead were in command.

Following the same path from her ear to her mouth, Cullen claimed her lips again, grinning into the kiss and the sound of pleased surprise he swallowed. Her tongue met his as he pushed her past her lips. A tentative gesture and shy – undoubtedly Nevena – but erotic in its timidity. Grinding his hips forward, Cullen was unable to stop the low laugh that rumbled within him when he heard Nevena’s shocked yelp. His erection was not subtle, pressing hard and heavy against the confining denim of his jeans.

They drew apart long enough for Cullen to get a good look at the flush to her face, and for him to hear the quickness of her breath. He felt the short puffs against his lips as she chased the air he had stolen from her, and that she had stolen from him. His grabbing, gripping hands turned more gentle, now stroking over the bare skin of her back and her waist. When she opened her eyes, he saw they were bright and blazing, like embers of a fire. Dark and inviting, as intoxicating to look at as they were the first day he saw her in Red Jenny’s.

“Nevena,” Cullen murmured. He inclined his head to kiss her again, lifting one hand to cup her jaw as she returned it. Her mouth moved with his and Cullen noticed how her arms tightened around his neck and shoulders. Her heart was racing in her chest, he knew because he could feel the vibrations matching the pace of his own. Somewhere in the very recesses of his mind he knew this was wrong. This was so far out of the contract they agreed on, and they were in very dangerous territory – but he didn’t care. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to have her. To have this. To stop fighting what he was feeling and allow himself to go with it. If only she would too. He pulled away from the kiss, lips hovering on hers, eyes tightly closed while Cullen tried to focus and find his words.“I wan—“

"Hey, Aunt Nev, where's the other--- OHMAKERI'MSOSORRY!"

Matilda's voice caused Nevena to jerk away and the whole room came into cold, unfeeling focus. She blinked up at Cullen as though waking from a nightmare and hurriedly put a safe distance between the two of them, extracting herself from between him and the counter all but sprinting across to Matilda. For an instant, Cullen was too dazed and conflicted to realise what happened. He was enjoying the kiss. So was Nevena, from what he could tell. Why would she stop? It was only when he realised Nevena was apologising to Matilda over and over that it all clicked.

And suddenly he was mortified. Not only had he been kissing – though that seemed too tame and innocent a word to use for what they were doing – but he had been considering the idea of allowing things to move further. He had been entertaining the thought of going back to Skyhold, of stripping her of her clothes, and having her until they were too tired to think. His cock pulsed, still excited. Cullen ran his hands down his face and through his hair.

Fuck.

"Matilda. That--" He crossed to where Nevena was already talking to Matilda. He forced himself not to look at Nevena's face, though he could see the bright scarlet of her cheeks. "Uh, that was... I am so sorry."

Matilda was laughing, tears streaking down her cheeks. "That's okay. I mean - no need to apologise!" Her voice was a little shrill. "Just adults being gross."

"Don't tell your mum," Nevena grasped Matilda's hands. "I will never hear the end of it."

Still giggling, Matilda nodded, "I won't tell." She looked between Cullen and Nevena. "But uhm... I need the..." She pointed at the cookie tray.

"I got it!" Nevena charged past Cullen without so much as a glance.

Fuck.

"I'll take it upstairs with you." She returned with the tray and ushered Matilda out of the kitchen. "Can't keep everyone waiting!"

Before Cullen had a moment to protest - it was probably best if he and Nevena talk immediately after... after whatever that was - the kitchen door closed firmly and Cullen could hear Nevena nervously chattering for a few seconds. He stared at the door before rubbing his fingers over his face and mouth. His skin was red hot and his heart was going a mile a minute. Every inch of him was tingling and Cullen himself felt energized. He stared at the kitchen sink, approached it and placed his hands on the edge, leaning his weight down. He closed his eyes tight, taking long, steadying breaths.

He touched his lips, sure he could feel them fizzling and tingling. He could still feel her mouth on his. Her sharp, stolen breaths, the sound of her voice when she gasped and moan when their hips ground together. She was there, her taste lingering on his tongue, her fingers pulling at the roots of his hair, drawing him closer.

Fuck.

One moment they were teasing each other, the next... The next they were kissing like their lives depended on it. Cullen inhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair wondering the only logical question: what the fuck had he done?

Nevena managed to avoid speaking to Cullen until the late afternoon when everyone gathered in the living room to hep decorate the tree. Rowan, Dante, and Matilda picked out decorations to hang and told those tall enough where to put them. Liam waddled around, occasionally picking up a glass bauble only to have it quickly taken from his small hands by Owen.

She spent the hours between her and Cullen's kiss and now carefully checking every room before she went into it, and fleeing whenever she heard his voice. It was foolish behaviour, considering they were meant to be pretending to be in a relationship, but the kiss... confused her. Confused things. There was no one to perform for at the time, and it happened so suddenly and without warning that Nevena wasn't sure what the meaning behind it was. If it was just a spur of the moment gesture brought on by... some unseen force or if there was more behind it.

That was a terrifying thought. What if there was more behind it? Then what?

She partly hoped that wasn't the case. That it was a slip up and an accident. She also partly hoped there was meaning behind it. She liked Cullen, that was for certain, but she wasn't sure if she was sincerely attracted to him, or if it was just part of the illusion creating confusion for them both.

Moments like this she wanted Roselyn to talk to - but being at the house, she didn't want to risk someone over hearing the conversation or Cullen walking in while she was on the phone. She decided to hold off calling Roselyn until later when they were back at the cabin. And she would not call if she and Cullen could figure things out themselves in the meantime.

When she saw Cullen in the living room, Nevena immediately stared at the floor and her whole body flushed hot. It was a long time since she had been kissed the way he kissed her... A very long time, and the kiss was enjoyable - of that there was no doubt - but it was also badly timed and puzzling. The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became by the whole thing. A kiss was a kiss, and sometimes kisses didn't mean anything, they just happened. Judging by how casually Cullen spoke with Josef, he was not experiencing the same confusion or malcontent she was. However given how adept he was at faking an entire relationship so far, she wouldn’t put it past him to be hiding his confusion either.

Over a few minutes, Cullen managed to catch her eye and he nodded his head at the door. He slipped away after excusing himself from conversation with Josef and Monty. No one was paying attention to Nevena. She sat behind everyone else in the arm chair, mostly unnoticed. She followed after Cullen a minute or two later.

Her chest was tight when she found Cullen waiting for her in the hallway, and every breath grew shorter as she followed him to the dining room where he closed the door firmly. She placed her hands on the back of a chair, watching him, and aware of the space between them, determined for it to remain. The air in the room was thick and stifling. Nevena pushed her fingers through her hair, waiting, not sure if she should speak first or let Cullen have his say. Time dragged. She knew they would be missed if they were gone from the living room for too long.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

She could see his back was tense. He had yet to turn around and face her. She felt nervous, and not an excited nervous. It was more an apprehensive nervous. Silence like this made her uncomfortable. In times past, she never knew if a silence was a prelude to an argument or to a conversation that would leave her feeling about two inches tall and ridden with guilt. She pressed her fingers into the chair back, trying to think of something to say and unable to remember words, let alone how to form a complete sentence.

Opening her mouth, she hoped a sound might magically come out on its own.

"About earlier." Cullen's voice aired instead of hers. Nevena shut her mouth so fast her teeth clacked. He turned to face her, but did not move from where he was standing. "About the... I mean..." He scratched the back of his neck. "The… the uhm…”

“Kiss?” prompted Nevena, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Right. That.” Cullen gave a short bark of laughter that sounded insincere to Nevena. “I don't know why it happened. I can only apologise, and swear it won't happen again."

Nevena didn't want to admit that she felt her stomach plummet like a rock in a pond. "It's okay." She hid her disappointment behind a smile, something she was well practiced in. "The last few days have been kind of... emotional. I guess everyone's on tenterhooks a little bit and people do weird things when they're emotionally strung out."

"Yeah," Cullen chuckled weakly. "It's... It's just," he paced one way, then the other, coming to stop in his original position. "I don't think I was prepared, entirely, for this whole arrangement. In the past these things have been for an evening or a day at most."

"Right," Nevena nodded. Her heartbeat was suddenly very loud and painful. If he was about to bring a premature end to their arrangement, then she wouldn't blame him. She just wasn't sure how she would handle it, or explain it to her family. "That's understandable." She hoped she sounded calm.

"I like you… a-as a… as a friend," Cullen stated. "And I think settling into this arrangement, being around each other so much, has been messing with our heads a bit."

"Quite possibly," Nevena agreed. "Going from not knowing each other to practically living together, albeit temporarily, is bound to have some… Weird… It’s going to… We… That is, you and… There were… Repercutions. Variables. We didn’t consider those."

"Exactly." Nodding, Cullen ran his hand over his chin, scratching at his stubble. "So... I think, that kiss was... We just needed to get it out of our systems." Nevena narrowed her eyes at him slightly, waiting for clarification. "Now it's done, a-and we know there's nothing there. N-nothing here. Be… between us, I mean. We can carry on and things will be fine." He laughed again, uncertainty weakening it. Nevena wasn't certain if he was being serious or not, it was hard to tell. The disappointment she felt before now pooled like molten lead in her belly, weighing her down. If he felt nothing from that kiss, then there was nothing to be pursued or considered. And he was probably right, what she was feeling for him was likely brought on by nothing more than circumstance and vicinity.

"That... sounds good to me," Nevena said, slowly. She relaxed her grip on the chair. "We can be friends, and keep displays of affection for show. Like we planned. Best not to get emotions mixed up in all this too. It's complicated enough."

"Absolutely," Cullen forced a small grin. "I'm glad we agree."

"I'm glad we could talk about it. Like adults." Nevena gave a strained laugh that petered out into silence. She and Cullen watched each other awkwardly across the room until she dropped her gaze and puffed her cheeks out. "We should get back."

"Yeah." He opened the door. "Did you still want to go to Redcliffe tomorrow?"

Nevena paused over the threshold. "Not tomorrow. I'm going into Edgehall with Ineria. She needs to pick something up she couldn't find today. And I ordered something at the market that's ready for collection."

"Oh." They walked in tandem and silence down the hallway towards the living room. There were raised, jovial voices coming from within. Nevena didn't much feel like being around such a lively atmosphere right this minute, but leaving was out of the question. "Are you sure going to Edgehall with Ineria is a good idea? Given the other night?"

"I promised Matilda I'd talk to Ineria for her," explained Nevena. "She's feeling a little... unloved, I guess. I can relate to that. She doesn't think Clotilde or Arienne would talk to Ineria, and Josef's already tried. I'm the backup plan."

"Okay..." Cullen's mouth shifted to one side. "If you're sure."

"I'll be fine," Nevena assured him. "It'll give us some time apart too."

"True." He grasped the door handle. "After you."

Nevena took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of her chest expanding with her inhale. She plastered a well practiced smile on her face and re-entered the living room, feeling more weighed down than she did when she left.

Sooooooo..... How was that? :p

I'll leave you guys to stew in ... all that heaviness. I wanted to say thank you, again to everyone who reads, comments, leaves kudos, and everything in between. It means so much to me, at the risk of sounding like a broken record. And I know it means a lot to other fanfic writers too. The feedback is always one of the best, if not THE BEST, part of writing and uploading a story. It's great. Seriously. I love it. You should never feel shy about leaving your thoughts on a fic. I promise you, the writer is on the other end of the computer smiling so big when they read feedback. It's the best.

I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Once again, thank you so much to everyone who has read this chapter, and read the fic this far. The next chapter will be out soon-ish. <3

[Also, if you spot any mistakes, or errors in words, let me know so I can fix them. Sometimes I miss them, as do my beta readers, no matter how many times I might reread!]