#'I have the right to forever remain furious' and she really is

[dreadark]

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Mom Hera Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🦚 — lady l: I kind of thought of this after reading a lovely reader's comment and remembering some concepts about Hera as a yandere mother so... Here it is! Ah, @natashenka-br this is for you, I hope you like it! 🙌🏻❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of manipulation and unhealthy platonic relationships.

❝ 🦚pairing: platonic yan mom!hera x gender neutral!reader.

You didn't remember anything other than that Hera was your mother. She was everything you remembered and loved, from your first thoughts to the present day. She was always everything to you and you were everything to her.

Hera was all you knew and loved, your sweet and loving mother, who would always be by your side to love you and protect you from all the evil that exists in the world.

All you thought about was how loving and perfect Hera seemed to be. She was so patient and kind with you, always encouraging you and applauding your every achievements with great pride. She was the perfect mother.

At least that was yours and Hera's point of view. There was nothing scarier than the goddess of marriage and women when she was furious, and luckily for you, that anger was never directed at you.

Hera was always careful not to show her fury to you, she didn't want to scare you and make the child she loved most fear. She would never have that, just like she would never let you leave her.

The goddess loved you with all her heart, her always serious and boring expression quickly perked up when you were around. You were everything she could want, you were her perfect, beloved child. If she could sew you to her side, she would.

Hera is extremely possessive and jealous of you, and that's nothing new. You are hers, her child and that says more than enough. She will not tolerate any type of external contact, especially if it's from Zeus. She will not allow him to corrupt you.

Zeus and none of the other gods will be allowed to approach you, with the exception of her other children. She doesn't really like the idea of Ares being so close to you because of his nature and she wants you to remain pure, but she prefers him over Hephaestus.

Hera, if she gets the chance and the opportunity, will leave you as a child forever. She knows you should grow up and live your life, but she doesn't want any of that. Maybe with a little persuasion you could get permission to grow up to sixteen at least, but Hera would become much more suffocating.

She will not tolerate any kind of possible love interests you may have if you grow up. You must remain pure and untouched and she will unleash her fury on anyone who dares to corrupt you. You were her perfect child and no god/goddess or mortal will lay their hands on you.

The goddess is overly controlling and if you dare disobey any rules she may set, she will be completely shocked. You were her perfect, obedient child, so why were you acting this way? She would blame everyone for this, Zeus's bastard children, the other gods and even her own husband. But she will never admit guilt, that the reason you reacted like this is her fault.

It's not easy to deal with her and it never will be. Hera is vengeful and possessive and she has eyes everywhere. You could never leave her, even if you wanted to. Which you don't want to do, right? After all, she is your mother, the only thing you remember from your childhood. And she would always care and protect you, even if she had to manipulate you into it. But everything would be fine in the end, after all, mom always knows best.

[cdragons]

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Prologue

Next chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Future NSFW, Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), Childbirth, Future Sexism & Misogyny (this is Westeros), Political Struggles, Future Deaths, Dark Themes, etc. etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom!

Author's Note: WHO ELSE SCREAMED AT THE HOTD SEASON 2 TEASER TRAILER????? The costumes, the cinematography, the set design, FUCKING BAELA ON MOONDANCER???? But this idea was something that had been on my mind for a while, and I am really excited to share it with all of you! Shoutout to @valeskafics whose works served as a HUGE inspiration to this idea! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.

“PUSH!” yelled the midwife to the soon-to-be mother. “Lady Doreah, I can almost see the head!”

“Almost?” the poor woman cried out; her body had grown weary after experiencing a day’s worth of labour. Her hair clung to the sweat on her brow as the rest of her skin was soaked in perspiration from the pain. She cried out in agony as a gentle kiss from above attempted to soothe her from the torment that came with bringing new life into the world. Normally she would preen at such affection, but considering the circumstances she was in, she was in no mood for soft affections. “Ao nādrēsy! You did this to me!”

“Yes, my love,” agreed the man beside her. Unlike most husbands, Hotho Pyke refused to not remain by his beloved wife’s side during the birth of their child. He wanted to welcome the product of their love into the world with open arms. He was desperate to hold this new tiny babe in his arms as his fingers would trace over the features given to them by both their mother and father.

“You speak true my darling; I am a bastard. But if memory serves me right, it was my bastard birth that finally made you look my way after months of me begging for your attention. Well, that and a bit of my bastard tongue.” He tried to hide the wince that almost spilled from his lips at the furious grip on his hands in response of his wife. Even at the worst times, the man would never stop in his attempts to make her laugh. It was a most excellent quality in a husband in any other time but now.

“Gods help me Hotho – if this child does not come out of me soon, I will take my shears and cut out that bastard tongue of yours myself!” Doreah let out another scream as she continued to push her child out – although the pain was intense, the longing to hear the newest member of their family was greater than anything else she had felt in her lifetime.

“The baby is crowning!” exclaimed the midwife, who stood forgotten by the couple. “You are so close my lady, a few more pushes and you and your husband can welcome the newborn!”

This news filled Doreah with a newfound determination. Using every bit of her strength, she grasped her Hotho for support as she let out a furious yell as her body clenched to push out the newborn.

And after what seemed to both a lifetime and no time at all, powerful and shrill cries filled out every corner of the room. Not bothering to lean back against the pillows to rest, Doreah reached forward and demanded to hold her baby. She didn’t even care if you were a son or a daughter- you could have been a goat for all she cared. All she wanted to was to hold whomever had been growing inside her for the past nine months. She wanted to breathe in the scent of their skin and kiss their tiny faces. She wanted to love her child- her new world and her greatest love. Son, daughter, goat- Doreah knew that this child would forever be perfect in her eyes.

And perfect this child was indeed, and perfection suited their daughter.

Ten toes and ten fingers covered in blood, and kicking as hard an airborne goat, Doreah and Hotho wept as loudy as their newborn girl. It was only when the midwife insisted that she have the baby cleaned and wrapped in blankets were the two able to part with her. When you were returned to your mother’s arms, all felt right with the world as they continued to weep at the sight of the newest member of their small and strange family.

“Ziry's kesīr, īlva tala,” whispered Doreah with tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up to gaze at her husband. “Gaomagon ao ūndegon zirȳla, ñuha jorrāelagon? Jurnegon rȳ zirȳla! Iksis ziry daor se olvie precious riña emā mirre ūndegīon!”

“I see her my coral,” whispered out her husband, whose face was soaked in tears in response to the overwhelming joy flowing within him. “Our pearl is beautiful. But most importantly, she is healthy and she is loved.”

He traced a finger across his daughter’s delicate features. Although you were currently sleeping, he knew that your eyes would take after hers, and he was ecstatic. There was a time when he believed that he would never love anything or anyone more than he loved the sea, only now there were two women in his life whom his love was consumed by entirely.

As the world slipped away into the background, the love from the new parents was so great it formed an almost impenetrable barrier surrounding them. But all peaceful things reach an end and theirs came from the knocking of a serving girl.

“My Lord and Lady…Pyke,” came a new voice, clearly disgusted by the act of referring a bastard as a lord, “if the Lady is presentable, the Queen Alicent would like to come in to see the child.”

“Oh yes!” exclaimed Doreah. “Please let her in! I would be most honored to have Alicent meet my sweet pearl!”

“My brightest coral, are you sure? You just went through birth. Queen or not, shouldn’t you recover before she asks your attention?”

Hotho Pyke was an impoverished bastard born from the Iron Islands. He knew how to predict wind patterns and navigate with the stars before he could write. His skills as a seafarer were so great that he caught the attention of Lord Corlys of House Velaryon who sat on the Driftwood Throne. But however impressive his skills were with a sail, there was still much to be desired with his knowledge of etiquette appropriate for the Royal Court of the Red Keep in the Crownlands. His raised brow and confused tone suggested that he believed his question to be one borne of common sense despite the horrified expressions on everyone else’s faces save for his wife.

“Hotho, ñuha jorrāelagon,” Doreah tiredly chuckled as she shook her head, “there is still so much for you to learn about the Red Keep. Please Jeyne, let the Queen enter. I want her to meet our pearl!”

Almost immediately, a heavily pregnant figure in resplendent green and gold came dashing into the room in hopes to be the first to reach the bedridden woman and greet the child.

“Doreah!” exclaimed out the queen, relieved that her dearest friend had survived the trials of birth with the result of a healthy child. “Let me see you! How are you? Are you sure you are well? Do you need anything for the pain?”

Doreah couldn’t help but laugh at the onslaught of questioning from her fretful childhood friend. Since they were still just young girls, Alicent Targaryen nee Hightower always worried about the seamstress’ health and wellbeing despite being a few years younger. She fondly looked back on the days when she and her would peacefully discuss about their days as they worked on their embroidery or took lessons from the Head Septa. Handing their daughter to her husband to hold, she reached out to her friend in attempt to soothe her worries.

“Alicent, I am fine. Truly, there is no need to fret so much.” Doreah reassured her friend before looking back to the love of her life. “Besides, I was never in any danger. Not with my brave Iron Knight by my side the entire time.”

Still holding their radiant babe, Hotho Pyke beamed at his wife’s tender words before laying kisses on her hands, her fingers, the top of her hairline, before eventually stopping at her lips.

Alicent, however, was less than pleased at the shameless display of affection shared between the couple.

“Ser Pyke,” – she refused to refer a bastard of all things as a lord – “surely you know that men are not permitted in the birthing room during the delivery. I thought that this was made clear to you when you first learned of your wife’s pregnancy.”

Not recognizing the insult in being referred as “Ser” as opposed to “Lord,” Hotho only took the queen’s words as a sign of worry for her favored companion.

“My mother would rise from her watery grave to string me by my feet and call me a cunt if she knew that I left my wife alone in bringing our child into the world. Besides, had I not been in the room, she would have let her vicious tongue loose on another unfortunate soul.”

“In any case, are you sure you should not be resting? You are carrying the King’s child, surely that takes priority over seeing me.” Doreah knew that this pregnancy had been particularly difficult for Alicent, recalling the many times she walked in on her kneeling before her chamber pots in emptying out the contents of her stomach.

“Nonsense,” replied Alicent, who shook her head at the statement, “there is no one more important to me at this moment than you, sweet Doreah. I just hope that your husband’s brash tongue does not influence such a young innocent.”

“Ah, no worries my Queen. The brashness of my tongue is no match for that of my wife. She proved that many a time in our quarters.”

The Iron Island-born bastard was promptly cut off by a swift slap on the arm from his wife.

Before Alicent could respond to such vulgarity, she was interrupted by the presence of another figure dressed in a gorgeous red and black dress patterned with masterful gold embroidery.

“Rhaenyra!” Doreah exclaimed in excitement, happy to have not one but two of her closest friends greet her daughter. “You did not have to come! Are you sure you are not currently preoccupied with your duties?”

“Oh, please,” the princess uttered, “what could possibly be more important at this moment than to greet the firstborn of Laenor and I’s closest friends?”

Walking over to Hotho’s side, Rhaenyra was entranced by the sight of the newly arrived babe. She could already see how you would grow to be the spitting image of your mother.

“May I hold her?” she asked with arms already reaching toward your father.

Looking back to his wife to make sure she approved of it, he carefully handed you to Rhaenyra – but not before he laid a dozen kisses on your face.

“Oh Doreah,” Rhaenyra softly cooed, “she is absolutely perfect. I can tell that she will grow up to be as kind and beautiful as her mother.”

“Oh, Rhaenyra,” tears filled your mother’s eyes at her friend’s kind words, “kirimvose.” She turned to Alicent, who was currently sitting beside the bed in a chair brought to her to ease the stress on her body from her third pregnancy. Your mother reached one arm to each of her friends as a way to show solidarity. “Thank you to the both of you. I would not be where I am now – so happy and full of love – without the both of you here to guide me through the Red Keep. I owe you two everything. I only hope that our children can remain as friends so that they will never know loneliness.”

If your mother knew of the cruel fate she thrust onto you with that wish, she would have given everything to the gods in hopes to free you.

Your father took you back into his arms before handing you once more to your mother. Although you had woken from your slumber, you made no noise. You only gazed at the figures surrounding you with wide and eager eyes. Ever so slightly, you reached out your hand to paw at the green fabric of the queen.

So young, and you already seemed to recognize the beauty in the custom-made garment.

Alicent laughed in a way that was so genuine that it seemed unfamiliar, fascinated by the fervent grabbing of her dress on your end.

“It seems that this little one will be a seamstress as well,” she stated as she reached forward to let you pull and tug at her sleeve in enraptured delight, “I can only imagine what talent she will possess.”

“What will you name her?” Rhaenyra asked, hoping that you will be blessed with a name with Valyrian roots.

But a shared glance between your parents showed that they had already decided a name for you far before this day.

“Ashirri, Ashirri Pyke” your mother confidently stated, “in honor of both our cultures.”

Your father grasped his wife’s shoulder in agreement. “We will never let our child feel she must restrict herself to one background. As her parents, we want to let her know that her world will be one of endless possibilities.”

On this day, Doreah Pyke gave birth to a child for her and her husband to raise. This child will be raised with so much love that it will not matter that you were born from two bastard parents, one from Essos and the other from the Iron Islands. No, you were born as a result of the love from two people from opposite sides of the world who miraculously found one another, and that was all that would matter in the end. Doreah would teach you an art that could only be made through masterfully crafted embroidery and needlework, while Hotho will teach you how to use the stars to navigate waters and open their horizons to an endless sea of possibilities.

And if you did not wish to become either a seamstress or a sailor, it made no difference to them. Westeros, Essos, the Red Keep, the Iron Islands – the world was your oyster, and you were the miraculous pearl.

Their child will not be like the close-minded fools of their homelands, but someone whose mind will be open to new opportunities and will never stop seeing the joy in discovering the unknown. And they would always be there to help guide you in any way the could. Nothing would ever come between the love your parents held for you.

If only the gods could allow for such happiness to last forever.

But dragons have a tendency to burn rather than create, especially ones with sapphire for eyes and strong blood in their veins.

Translations:

"Ao nādrēsy!" - You Bastard!

"Ziry's kesīr, īlva tala... Gaomagon ao ūndegon zirȳla, ñuha jorrāelagon? Jurnegon rȳ zirȳla! Iksis ziry daor se olvie precious riña emā mirre ūndegīon!" - She's here, our daughter. Do you see her, my love? Look at her! Is she not the most precious child you have ever seen?

"ñuha jorrāelagon" - my love

kirimvose - Thank you

Tagging: @valeskafics, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @aphroditesmoon, @nighttwingg, @marvelescvpe, @nellychick, @its-actually-minicika, @biancaweasley

[tinyundercover]

pepper & felix

part six

Pepper learns more about his soulmate. word count: 2.4k

“So— you’re gonna go sing in a room with a bunch of strangers, and then they’re all gonna decide if they like you or not?” Pepper stared at Felix, bewildered.

It was late at night. Pepper sat on the back of Felix’s couch, while the human was seated sideways— allowing them to face each other and remain around the same eye level. A movie was playing on the television, but the pair of them had since forgotten it, chatting absentmindedly. 

After Pepper’s dreadful ordeal with Basil, he had spent the evening with Felix, eating dinner with him (some kind of pasta that Pepper was thrilled to try) and watching two movies, neither of which he quite understood but still enjoyed. Even though he had declared his trust for Felix on a whim earlier, he couldn’t bring himself to be carried yet, and had insisted on walking from the kitchen to the couch himself. Felix, the kind man he was, had kept a respectful distance all night.

He seemed to have noticed Pepper’s uneasy, miserable behavior from the beginning. The borrower couldn’t stop thinking about Basil… but it was easier to shove the thought of her away every time he focused on the man across from him, twenty times his size.

“I mean— kinda?” Felix rubbed at the back of his neck, laughing in a quick exhale. “The judges are trying to find someone to play this specific role. So there might be dozens of guys auditioning for the same part, and the judges are just gonna pick one of us for the cast.”

Pepper hummed thoughtfully. “Okay… yeah, that makes sense. I think.” He furrowed his brow. “And— your auditioning is tomorrow?”

“Audition,” Felix corrected. “And yes, in the evening. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“When will you know if you get the cast?”

The human tilted his head, thinking. “My school usually only takes a couple days to cast things. So… maybe a week?”

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah,” Felix responded dryly, and Pepper laughed. “I’ve done a few shows at my university, but I don’t usually get any big parts. I’m a junior now, so maybe it will help that I’m an upperclassman.”

At Pepper’s confused frown, Felix began to explain the concept of class standings, and the borrower nodded, pretending to understand. Humans’ lives were way too complicated than they needed to be.

Still, it was interesting to hear about Felix’s life. Pepper had only known him as “the human who sometimes left this apartment” for a year, and he was excited to actually learn where he went all day. 

He briefly thought of Basil, and his stomach twisted, knowing she would be furious if she knew where he was right now. But— Felix had proven himself time and time again to be respectful and kind, and Pepper had done the best he could to explain that to Basil.

She said she needed time to think, he reminded himself. She didn’t ditch you forever. Hopefully she’ll come around.

“What about you?” Felix asked curiously. “What do you do for fun?”

Pepper blinked at him. Borrowers weren’t known to have a lot of hobbies; most of their time was dedicated to just staying alive.

“For fun?” Briefly, his gray gaze dropped to his jacket— a baggy, blue material that he had cut from an old bandana. “Well, I like to sew. I just finished this jacket, I’m really proud of it.”

He lifted his arms so that his small jacket was easier for Felix’s eyes to focus on. Felix blinked, and he briefly opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but decided against it. “That’s really cool,” he praised. “You made that whole thing?”

“Yep.” Pepper nodded, beaming. He didn’t usually have the opportunity to brag about his accomplishments to anyone. “You’d be surprised how much old fabric you can find lying around. Old headbands, bandanas, gloves… especially in the laundry room, down the hall. That’s where I get most of my fabric.”

Felix’s expression was open, bright with interest. His curiosity about Pepper’s life wasn’t a secret to either of them, and for once Pepper wasn’t totally afraid to tell him about it. “I spend a lot of time sewing. It’s calming, and you get something out of it that you can use later. Win win.”

“That’s really interesting,” Felix said honestly. He leaned sideways against the back of the couch, watching Pepper, and Pepper suddenly felt as if he was being admired under a human’s gaze rather than scrutinized. “I am not crafty at all. I wouldn’t survive a day if I was your size.”

Pepper smiled, amused by the thought of Felix borrowing. “You think so?”

Felix laughed. “No way, man. I would be exhausted after climbing all day, but you didn’t even break a sweat earlier. And I have no clue how to sew.”

“Honestly, a lot of borrowers don’t know how to sew,” Pepper offered. “But climbing, yeah… that’s kind of a necessity. You’re out of luck.” He snickered, feeling strangely powerful over the human twenty times his size.

Felix laughed with him for a moment, before hesitantly glancing over Pepper. “Borrowers?” He echoed softly, tilting his head. “Is that what your kind is called?”

Pepper’s small heart lurched, and in that moment he remembered that he was talking to a human. Suddenly cautious, he chewed his lip. “Oh… uh, yeah.” He glanced left and right, as if someone might jump out and yell at him for being a traitor to borrowerkind.

To his relief, Felix’s features softened. “Gotcha. Another secret, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Pepper said, and it almost felt laughable. “Yeah, so no blabbing.” He pointed a dramatic finger at Felix.

This was… strange, but comfortable. Pepper was very out of place in this apartment, perched on the back of a couch while speaking with a human twenty times his size… but deep down, he knew that he was safe. Felix had had so many chances to hurt him over the past week, but the human hadn’t taken advantage of any of those. Despite being the size of his finger, Felix treated Pepper like a person.

After twenty more minutes of chatting quietly, the credits rolled on the movie, gentle music playing. Felix pursed his lips, checking the time on his phone. “I should probably go to sleep soon,” he said, almost apologetically.

Disappointment squirmed into Pepper’s stomach, but he acted casual. “Yeah, no worries. You’ve got to be well rested for tomorrow.”

Felix sighed heavily. “I’m so nervous. I probably won’t even sleep at all tonight, let’s be real.”

Pepper laughed, pulling himself to his feet. He stretched his small arms over his head. “I’ll stop by tomorrow before you leave,” he promised suddenly. “So I can wish you good luck.”

Felix’s eyebrows raised, genuinely surprised. “Oh— thank you!”

“Yeah.” Pepper beamed up at him. His heart was racing, but it wasn’t out of terror anymore. No, this was a different feeling. “Alright, you get to bed. I’ve got a long walk ahead of me.” He yawned briefly into his sleeve before pulling his hook out, latching it onto the back of the couch.

Felix’s blue gaze lingered on the borrower, fretful, and Pepper knew that the human was struggling not to offer his hand to help. For a moment, Pepper wasn’t entirely opposed to it.

But that— that would be too far. Sure, he could spend the night with Felix laughing and talking, but placing his life into the human’s hand was another thing altogether. That would be transferring all of his power over to Felix. The thought was daunting.

“Okay,” Felix said finally, voice light. “Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Pepper sent him a wave as the human paced off to his bedroom, shutting the door with a gentle click. He watched the door for a long moment, mind wandering, before he pushed it all away and began sliding down the thread of his hook.

As his feet hit the floor, a voice entered his mind— the same voice he had just been speaking with five minutes ago.

“Hey soulmate— I don’t know if you’re still awake, but I just wanted to say good night. I watched some movies with a friend and now I’m gonna go to sleep.”

A smile crossed Pepper’s face, and he clasped his hands against his chest. “Hey— how did that go?”

“It was great,” Felix said, voice warm. “My friend is a little shy, so I was surprised when he asked to stay over, but he turned out to be really funny and sweet. I really like him.”

Pepper’s heart swelled, and for a single moment, he wondered if he should tell Felix everything.

…tell him that he, too, had had a wonderful evening.

…tell him that he had just spent the evening with his soulmate.

However, he only clasped his hands tighter and said, “I’m glad you had a good time! I’ll talk to you before your audition tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, soulmate.”

—

The idea came to Pepper just as he woke up. He immediately shot it down, shocked that he would even consider such a possibility.

He ignored it. He ate a bit of a grape and a cracker for breakfast, then spent the rest of his morning stitching up the leg of a pair of pants. He held it up in front of him, examining his work, and briefly thought back to his idea. He scoffed. It was an insane idea. He would never do that.

But… the idea didn’t leave his mind all afternoon. He rethreaded his hook with stronger, more durable thread. He went for a walk. He spoke telepathically with Felix, encouraging him about his audition (feeling strangely as if he was the one playing a character). He scribbled his anxious thoughts into his journal. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So, with a stomach filled with ice and a burst of adrenaline, Pepper approached Felix from behind the toaster. The human glanced over at him, holding tight to his mug of tea. “Oh, hey, Pepper.”

The borrower swallowed. “I want to go to your audition with you.”

Felix laughed for a moment, but he stopped immediately at Pepper’s firm expression. His blue gaze scanned the borrower’s form, eyebrows arched in confusion, as if Pepper might jump up and say, “Psych!”

“What?” Felix finally asked, baffled.

“I want to go with you,” Pepper explained, anxiously fumbling with his hands. “For… for support. As long as no one sees me, it should be fine.”

Felix was silent, and the borrower flushed, taking a step back. “Nevermind, this is stupid, I don’t know why I—“

“No, no, it’s okay,” Felix said hurriedly, and Pepper paused. “I don’t think that’s stupid. I think it’s sweet, actually. But, you… you’ve never wanted to be picked up before. This just doesn’t seem like something you would want to do.” He blinked nervously, peering closer at the borrower.

Pepper forced a smile, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, yeah. I know. If I’m being honest, I’m pretty fucking terrified right now.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “But… I think this might be good for us.”

Felix’s eyebrow arched. “What?”

“You know, like, our friendship,” Pepper said in a rush. 

“Gotcha.” The corners of Felix’s lips twitched into a smile, then fell. “You know you can’t come into the actual audition room with me, right?”

“I can just wait outside somewhere.”

“Okay… okay. I…If you really want to do this, then yeah, you can come with me.” Felix took an anxious sip of his tea, thinking. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes. Uh— please let me know if you change your mind before then. Okay?”

“Okay,” Pepper responded, knowing full well that changing his mind was a very real possibility.

As Felix flitted around the kitchen, nervously humming, drinking tea, and speaking with Pepper, the two of them planned out how their day would go. Pepper would sit on Felix’s shoulder on the walk there (“I have great balance, Felix, I promise I won’t fall”), and during the actual audition, Pepper would wait inside Felix’s bag in the lobby. The entire excursion shouldn’t take more than an hour.

When the time finally came to leave, Felix hovered near the counter, peering at Peper.

“I’ve never picked you up before,” Felix reminded Pepper cautiously.

“Yes you have,” Pepper said blankly, and Felix flushed.

“Aside from that,” Felix said, abashed. “So, are you completely sure you want to come? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t want me to come,” Pepper teased, although his hands were trembling. Deep down, he knew he was just stalling.

Felix shook his head, his lips twitching into a smile. After a moment of apprehension he lowered his hand to the counter, palm up, shaking somewhat. “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

Being faced with the task of placing his fate in another’s being hand was… not pleasant. Pepper swallowed, his gaze locking on the massive hand resting only a few inches away from him. Fingers that outmatched him in size curled in slightly, twitching nervously, each one strong enough to overpower him with one movement. 

The borrower stepped closer, heart pounding. He could see the individual ridges embedded into that thick skin. Underneath was a lifeline that stretched up into Felix’s wrist, thrumming steadily with a pulse. Pepper forced himself to take a deep breath, placing a tentative hand onto Felix’s thumb to steady himself. The thumb twitched in response.

A week ago, he had been trapped in this hand, and the bruises had only barely faded. Realistically, there was nothing stopping Felix from snatching him up again, squeezing him tight, or… or stuffing him in a jar, or…

Stop it. Pepper shook his head to clear his mind. This was his idea.

He wanted to send Felix an encouraging smile, but looking up at the massive human would probably only stress him out even more. Pepper swallowed, then placed his boot onto Felix’s palm.

He heard the quick breath from Felix, felt the air briefly move around him. Reminding himself that this was just as scary for Felix as it was for him, Pepper stepped fully onto his hand, holding his arms out to steady himself.

Okay.

This is okay.

He took a few cautious steps forward, wobbling slightly on the plush surface, until finally he had moved to the center of the palm. He held his breath, then sent Felix a thumbs up, unable to bring himself to speak.

“I’m gonna move you to my shoulder now,” Felix warned, and Pepper nodded rapidly.

At the first movement, Pepper gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. The world floated around him like an overbearing, threatening cloud, whispering to him that he was going to be dropped to his death in any second.

But— Felix moved slowly and carefully. Pepper’s eyes peeked open to see the human’s fingers curling up protectively, ensuring that his tiny passenger would not fall.

When Felix’s hand stilled, Pepper looked up, finding himself being held up to Felix’s shoulder. The human was wearing a white button-up, with a thick gray cardigan over it. The knitted material made it easier for the borrower to climb up and sit down on Felix’s shoulder, close to the collar. “Okay,” he exhaled, heart racing. “We’re good.”

The height was the first thing he noticed. Staring down past Felix’s cardigan and long legs, Pepper could see the floor. The only thing stopping him from plummeting to his death was his trust in the moving platform below him.

“Fuck,” Pepper mumbled, inching closer to Felix’s neck. He held onto the white collar with fervor.

“You okay?” Felix asked anxiously. He seemed to have been afraid to speak until this moment, releasing his words in one breath. “You’re not gonna fall?”

Pepper nodded, then remembered that Felix couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he assured the human, stomach twisting in knots. This was, by far, the most fucked up thing he had ever done in his life.

If Basil could see him now…

Pepper’s stomach went cold, and he pushed the thought away, taking a deep breath. “Alright. I’m ready when you are.”

----

hahahahahhaha

I'm gonna be incredibly busy this week, so I'm not sure when the next part will be out. I hope you enjoyed this part though!! <3

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169

[charliesloser]

HAPPY LESBIAN VISIBILITY WEEK BITCHES!! i bring you angst.

——

Redemption

Chaggie x Emilute

——

“But she was right, Sera,” Emily sang, hopodiah up the paper, “she showed us a soul can improve, he saw the light Sera,” she flew up, “checked all the boxes the you said would..” Emily continued and Lute felt guilt coming up in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s not fair, Sera,” Charlie jumped in, a mix of determination and anger spread on her face.

“Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head,” Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“No!” Charlie pushed her hand off and walked forward, “don’t you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn’t mean they can’t resolve to change their ways! Turn their backs, escape infernal blaze!”

“I really wish it could be so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”

Lute knows she’s gonna retreat this, but she chimes in as well, “what are we even talking about, some crack whore who fucked up already?!” Lute avoided Emily’s eyes, “he blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth this discussion is sensless and petty!”

Adams jumps up and the two start singing, “there’s no question to be posed, he’s unholy case closed, did you forget that hell is forever?!”

Adam smirks, “a man only lives once, we’ll see you in one month!” He steps closer to Charlie, “gotta say I can’t wait to..”

“Adam..” Lute mumbles under her breath.

“Come down an exterminate you!”

“Wait!” Emily flies down.

“Shit..” Lute looks away.

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily was furious.

“You didn’t know?” Charlie tilts her head.

Lute takes a deep breath, “guess the cats out of the bag,” she puts on a fake smile.

“What’s the big deal?” Adam smirks.

“Sera,” Emily looks at Sera with pleading eyes, “tell me that you didn’t know.”

Sera flew down there, “I thought since I’m older, it’s my load to shoulder!

“No..”

“You have to listen, it was such a hard decision!” Sera reached her hands out but Emily pulled away, “I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to do what was required!”

Emily clenches her fists and starts flying, “to think that I admired you, well I don’t need your condescension, I’m not a child to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretension? Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you’re proveying?” Emily flies down to Charlie.

Charlie nods, “that’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!”

They grabbed each other hands, “if hell is forever then heaven must be a lie! If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky! The rules are shades of grey if you don’t do as they say, when you make the retched suffer just to kill them again!”

“I was told not trust in angels,” Charlie gave Vaggie a soft look and she gave the princess a look of guilt.

“By her?” Adam smirks.

Lute knew she was in deep shit so she just doesn’t care anymore, “ha! She should go,” she smirks and places an arm on Vaggie.

Vaggie pushes her off and walked closer to her girlfriend, “we should go-”

“No!” Charlie grabbed her hands, “don’t you see we’ve come so close? Look at them fighting, they’re at each others throats!”

“Don’t you act all high and mighty,” Lute and Adam circled Vaggie, “did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?” Adam smirked.

“Adam, don’t, please..”

“What’s the fuss?” Adam walked closer to her, “why hide the fact that you’re an angel just like us?” Lute pulled on Vaggie and made her face Charlie with a smirk.

Charlie had a look of anger, confusion, and terror in her eyes as she fell to her knees. Her hands were in her face as she starts crying and Vaggie runs to her, wrapping her arms around her.

——

The portal closes as soon as Charlie and Vaggie are back in hell. Vaggies heart is beating and Charlie’s eyes are red and puffy from crying. A lot was revealed today, and neither of them know how to feel.

“Charlie-” before Vaggie can even get a chance to speak, Charlie walks out of their room. She groans and plops down on the bed, her face in the pillows.

There was a knock on the door, “go away!” Vaggies voice was muffled because of the pillows.

Despite what she had said, Angel barged in. “Hey, so Charlie just ran out of the hotel with her horns and tail out. Mind telling me what happened?” Charlie usually only has her demon form out when she’s really stressed or emotional.

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk.” Vaggie mumbles into the pillows.

“Talkin’ about it will make ya feel better, toots,” Angel sits on the bed.

Vaggie sighs and rolls on her back, looking up at Angel. She knew he wasn’t gonna give up. “So, let’s just say a lot happened at the meeting,” she sighs and he gave her a look that tells her to continue, “well, apparently no one but the head seraphim and the exorcists knew about the exterminations.”

“Oh?” Angel crosses his arms.

“And we used you as an example, but they still believe that no soul can be redeemed,” Vaggie rolls her eyes. She left out the one part that Angel deserves to know, and Angel picked up on that.

“Is that all?” He tilts his head.

Vaggie takes a deep breath and stands up from the bed, looking out if the window. “No, there’s..” she turns to look at him, “there’s something else that I need to say,” she sighs and Angel nods, “it was revealed that..I used to be an exorcist angel.”

——

Emily’s in her room, her head pounding and her heart racing. There was so much that was impacted in that meeting and she doesn’t know how to handle it all.

There was a knock, “come in,” her voice was soft and the door opened and shut. Her back was facing the door and she was sitting on her bed so she couldn’t see who walked in, but she didn’t need to see. She just knew who it was because it’s the same person who comes to see her after every meeting.

Lute takes a deep breath, “Em, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Emily stands up and turns to face Lute.

“Please-”

“No! You’ve kept something from me you knew that I deserved to know! These exterminations have been happening for god knows how long, and you didn’t tell me!” Emily snaps, “those souls, human souls..they don’t deserve that, demon or not!”

“If you understood-”

“What I don’t understand is-” Emily sighs, “what I don’t understand is how you could keep something like this from someone you fell in love with.”

“Emily, please-” Emily ignores Lute and flies out her window.

Lute clenches her fists and throws her helmet on the ground.

——

Charlie returns to the hotel. Her hair was a mess and she had dark circles under her eyes. Vaggie looks over, she was sitting on the couch with Angel.

Charlie yawns as she drags her feet to the bar, ignoring Vaggie and Angel. She isn’t one to drink, but she really needs this.

Husk raises an eyebrow as he makes her a drink, something light since she isn’t really used to it, and hands it to her, “you look like shit.”

Charlie groans, “you have no idea,” she takes a sip of her drink and makes a weird face, shaking her head.

“I heard..what happened,” Husk sighs, “do you wanna talk about it?”

“Depends..is she here?” Charlie asked.

Husk shakes his head, “Angel took her out..she looked like she needed a break.”

Charlie scoffs, “she needs a break? As if she didn’t lie to me for years? We share everything together, she should’ve known that I would’ve understood if she told me that she was an exorcist angel.”

Husk opens his mouth, but closes it, trying to figure out what to say. He opens it again, “well, did you try asking her why she didn’t tell you?”

Charlie looks down and shakes her head, “I’m..afraid of her answer.”

Husk sighs, pouring himself a drink, “you know,” he takes a big drink, “it’s okay to be scared, that’s apart of life..but so is talking. Relationships aren’t always so perfect. Fights and mistakes are what makes them healthy and special. I’m not saying that you need to fight 24/7, I’m saying that..you guys will overcome this situation. All you need to do is talk it out.”

Charlie sighs. She knew that Husk was right and she nods, “when did you get so good at this relationship stuff?” She jokes with a smile.

Husk smiles back as he looks at Angel, who’s talking to Vaggie, “since I got into one myself,” he looks back at Charlie, “now, go talk to her. Make things right.”

Charlie nods, taking a deep breath before standing up. She slowly makes her way to the couch and Vaggie looked up from her conversation with Angel, making eye contact with Charlie. Charlie holds her hand out with pleading eyes and Vaggie doesn’t hesitate to take it.

——

Lute finds Emily on the top of a mountain, but not just any mountain. It was the mountain Emily took them in their first date, before they made it official. Lute remembers it like it was yesterday.

Emily had taken them to the tallest mountain in heaven to have a picnic. She decorated it so the trees lit up and the pink roses were brighter than before. Back then was so easy, Lute thought. Never in a million years would she had thought that Emily found out about the exterminations.

Without saying anything, Lute turns to fly away, thinking about how stupid this is, but she stops herself when she hears a voice, “you know..” Lute gulps and turns to look back at Emily, “maybe I overreacted.”

Lute tilts her head as she sits down next to Emily, their legs hanging off the edge of the cliff. “What do you mean?”

Emily sighs as she stares at the city of heaven, “maybe I overreacted..” she repeats herself, “after finding out about the exterminations,” she pauses, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped, it’s just..we’ve been dating for a few months and you’ve..kept something from me that goes against what I’m trying to stop.”

Lutes breath is shaky as she opens her mouth, but then closes it. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t find the right words.

The two were quiet for like 15 minutes, neither knowing what to say. Until Emily opened her mouth, “can we just..forget about everything?” She takes a glance at Lute, “maybe I overreacted, I just-”

Lute takes Emily’s hand into her own, “it’s okay, you didn’t overreact. I should’ve told you about the exterminations to begin with, I acted stupid,” she sighs, “I’m sorry, I really am.”

——

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Vaggie speaks, her voice is quiet and soft. She and Charlie were sitting on their bed, “I’d understand if you didn’t forgive me, or if you needed time..I should’ve told you, I was just scared, and..”

“Vaggie-” Charlie tries to cut in.

“When you found me that day, you were so nice to me..”

“Vaggie-” Charlie tried again.

“I just..I don’t understand..how you could be so nice to someone you knew nothing about. I didn’t tell you because I was scared..scared of losing the best thing that happened to me..and I’d understand if you wanted t-”

“Vaggie!” Finally, Vaggies eyes meet Charlie’s. She was expecting a look of anger and disappointment, but she was brought a look of love. Charlie cups Vaggies face, “it’s okay,” she whispers, “I promise..I overreacted and I should’ve let you explain. I was hurt, but I’m not now. I just..wish you would’ve told me sooner, and I would’ve preferred finding out from you and not some prick,” the princess smiles when she hears Vaggie let out a chuckle. She presses a kiss onto her forehead before pulling her in for a hug, “I love you.”

Vaggie smiles for the first time in a few days, “more than anything.”

[kryptonitejelly]

hii i have a request if you aren’t too busy <3 okay this idea just like fell into my lap but you’re dating hot and it’s a secret but one night you go out to the club and the team sees a tatto of his initials or something on like your back or shoulder? and they haven’t seen it bc club attire and work attire are so different. idk the idea of wearing his initials forever is just so.

hi hi, sorry this took a while to get to! also sorry it didn’t quite end up on back or shoulder…

-

“Is that a tattoo?” Emily yells over the loud thump of the bass. She leans forward, her gaze laser focused on the right side of your chest as you self consciously, and nervously tug the right side of your cowl neck top up as far as it would go.

“It is a tattoo,” JJ shrieks with glee as she takes a sip from the thin red straw she has stuck in a short glass.

“I think it says A.H,” Spencer says from beside you.

“Spence, are you staring at your colleagues chest,” JJ snickers into her drink as a furious blush creeps up Spencer’s neck.

“Am n-not,” he stammers; he truly had not been, all he had been preoccupied with was searching for what the tattoo said.

“What does A.H stand for?” Penelope muses as Derek slings an arm across her shoulder, the group huddling closer to you amidst the loud music.

“Arrhenium?” Spencer blurts.

“Why would she tattoo an element from the periodic table on herself?” Emily snorts and rolls her eyes, “especially right on top of her heart.”

“It’s a secret boyfriend!” Penelope exclaims loudly and in glee.

You twist your hands nervously as you try to back your way slowly out of the tight knit circle.

“What are you lot scheming now?” Rossi’s voice cuts in and the circle parts to reveal Rossi and Aaron - strange, but welcome additions to the club outing which Emily and Penelope had suggested.

“She has her secret boyfriend’s initials tattooed in her chest,” JJ says much too gleefully for her own good. You glance behind Rossi to see Aaron’s expression shift.

“Oh really?” Rossi looks to you, “never pegged you as a wear it on your heart kind of girl.”

“They say A.H,” Derek supplies, and Rossi’s gaze fixes for a moment too long before he breaks into a long, deep chuckle. It makes the group exchange looks, while Aaron remains frozen on the spot behind Rossi.

“A.H,” realisation dawns on Spencer’s face as he puts Rossi’s unexplained laughter, your discomfort and Aaron’s statue like demeanour together, “Aaron Hotchner?“

The uproar begins.

[midwestmade29]

I was in a mood when I wrote this 😂 Ya'll getting angst today! Word Count: 1,929 GIF by: @cowboyshit

Disclaimers: Mention of blood (once), mild cursing, mention of losing virginity, angst, angst and more angst 😂 Read at your own discretion..

From the moment your mother told your brother that he was getting a baby sister, he was less than thrilled. “Ugh, why does it have to be a girl? Girls suck! Can’t we trade her in for a brother instead?” Adam whined. Your mother explained to him that wasn’t how things worked, and throughout her pregnancy Adam remained disinterested the whole time. That was, until he held you for the first time after you were born. Something inside him changed when he looked at you in his arms, so tiny and sweet, realizing from that moment on that he would do anything for you. He was your fierce protector now, a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. He whispered in your tiny little ear that day and made a promise to you that he would always be there for you no matter what, never letting anything or anyone hurt you, even when you would inevitably annoy him. Adam kept good on his word as the years went by, shielding you from all things bad and always keeping a close eye on you. When you were 3, some kid took a toy from you while you were playing in the sandbox, Adam interjecting immediately and getting the toy back for you. He dumped a bucket of sand on the thief’s head, doing what he had to to dry his baby sister’s tears. You were in awe of your big brother, always thinking the world of him and through your eyes he was a real-life superhero!

The 6-year age gap between you and Adam didn’t start to show until he was twelve and you were six. You were the typical younger sibling, always following him around and wanting to be included in whatever he was doing, annoying him on purpose and smiling when you got him in trouble with your mother when he wasn’t letting you get your way. One thing you two bonded over was professional wrestling! He always used you as his practice dummy for any new moves he wanted to try out, and you thought it was the coolest thing! There were a few times where being a crash dummy wasn’t so fun though. One memory that you’ll never forget is the time his elbow connected with your mouth when he botched a move, leaving your teeth a bloody mess. Your mother was furious when he told her he chipped your tooth! She lectured him for a good 45 minutes that night, informing him that your days as a test dummy were over. Did either of you listen to her though? Of course not! You still held Royal Rumbles against each other whenever she wasn’t home. Adam found a new wrestling partner when the new kid in town was enrolled at the same school he went to. He was the same age as him, a little shorter, and shyer than Adam was. Adam and the new kid hit it off right away when they connected over their mutual love for professional wrestling, becoming inseparable after a short amount of time. After school one day Adam had invited his new friend over to your house, eventually introducing you to him when you wouldn’t stop begging. “Y/N, this is Christian. Christian, this is Y/N,” Adam said flatly. Little did he know at the time that informal introduction would change the course of your lives forever.

Adam and Christian were becoming a household name in the wrestling business. They were the hottest tag team around! The two of them were traveling the world, getting to do what they loved, and you had just graduated from college embarking on your own journey. Adam came home to celebrate your recent accomplishment, Christian tagging along with him. You hadn’t really kept tabs on Christian since your paths had taken you in different directions. You only knew bits and pieces of things about him that Adam told you randomly when you talked on the phone, the latest news being Christian’s engagement to a beautiful blonde supermodel. A pang of jealousy and a tinge of sadness washed over you when Adam told you about it, even though you knew it was ridiculous for you to feel that way. As kids you and Christian rarely got along and Adam had to play referee between you two all the time. Christian liked to push your buttons and you liked pushing his in return. Normally you held your own whenever Christian purposely started in on something, until one night he took things too far and said some hurtful things to you and making you cry. When Adam caught wind of the situation, rage consumed him when he saw the tears sliding down your cheeks. “Hey, dumbass! What the hell did you say to my sister?” he shouted mere inches from Christian’s face. It took Adam threatening to beat Christian’s ass for him to apologize to you, making him promise that he would never make you cry again.

People came in waves at your graduation party your mother begged you to let her throw for you. She had gone all out with every detail of the party! You mingled with guests most of the evening, rarely having a moment to yourself. When you were all peopled out, you snuck out the back door of the house and went to your favorite childhood hiding place to catch your breath. The old swing still creaked as you glided back and forth, interrupting the silence of the night whenever the chain would catch. You loved the way the stars reflected off the pond, the sound of the crickets chirping echoing through the air, and the smell of freshly cut grass as it danced around your nose. This place was your little slice of Heaven tucked away behind large bushes and small trees, usually remaining unseen by those that didn’t know it existed. You were lost in thought when a familiar voice made you jump, “Hey, Y/N. It’s…been a long time.” Christian stood next to the swing, staring ahead only speaking again when he asked if he could join you. “What are you doing here, Christian?” you asked in return. “I figured you would be out here when your mother told Adam you had stepped outside for a minute. Our plane just landed about an hour ago. Adam drove like a madman to get us here before the party was over. He’s excited to see you.” He explained. “Then why didn’t he come to get me?” Your words came out a little harsher than you meant them to, immediately wishing you could go back and change your tone. Adam’s voice carried through the trees as he called out for you, so you knew your time alone with Christian was limited.

The moonlight illuminated his handsome features, making his ocean blue eyes sparkle when he looked over at you. He slid his hand across the seat of the swing, brushing his pinky against yours making you jerk it away. “Christian…” fell from your lips as a warning, but you knew it didn’t have any real threat behind it. The two of you were the only ones that knew about the things that happened between you nearly 2 years ago. Feelings had grown between you one summer when you were home from college and Adam and Christian weren’t quite as popular as they are now, so they were home more often. You and Christian spent a lot of time together that summer, sneaking around doing whatever you could to not bring any attention to yourselves and your growing feelings for one another. Adam would’ve killed Christian if he ever knew what really went on that summer. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing his best friend took his baby sister’s virginity. Christian was smitten with you, and you couldn’t get enough of him either! Time went by at warped speed and before either of you knew it, summer was coming to an end. You knew you had to return to school, and Christian had a choice to make, his career or you. You never gave him an ultimatum; you aren’t that kind of person. His choice was an unfortunate decision that had to be made due to the circumstances that surround both of you. Deep in your heart you hoped that he would choose you, but your head knew it wasn’t possible. The last night you and Christian spent together was one you would never forget because it held a special place in your memory bank. He made love to you under the stars, taking his time and savoring every moment spent skin on skin with you. His touches from that night still lingered on your body to this day.

“Y/N! Are you out here?” Adam’s voice snapped you back into reality the closer it got. “I have to go,” you murmured as you stood abruptly. Christian grabbed hold of your hand, stopping you in your tracks when the warmth of his skin covered yours. “Wait, Y/N! I didn’t come out here to upset you, I-I’m not sure why I came to find you instead of Adam. I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore,” Christian was exasperated by the time he finished talking. You kept your guard up against Christian because you knew if you didn’t, you would fall under his spell again and your heart just couldn’t take anymore hurt caused by him. Your voice was now elevated, surely bringing attention to your whereabouts as you laid into Christian, “I don’t know why you came out here either! There’s nothing to be said. There’s nothing between us anymore. There is no us in the first place! You’re engaged Christian! We haven’t even talked to each other in over a year. Just let me go, Christian. You have to let me go!” He tried to say something else, but Adam suddenly appeared behind you. “Everything okay sis?” he asked, his voice full of concern. You swallowed hard and did your best to retract the tears that threatened to spill over before responding, “Yes, yep! All good! How are you? It’s so good to see you!” Adam picked you up and swung you around while you hugged his neck tightly. When you were steady on your feet after he put you down, you made up an excuse to get as far away from Christian as you could, “I better get back to the party, I think there was someone mother wanted me to meet. I’ll see you inside and we’ll catch up later, okay?” You hurried away, not even giving Christian or Adam a second glance.

Suspicion was written all over Adam’s face after you went back inside leaving him and Christian alone together. His words were laced with suspicion also when he asked, “What the hell was that about man? Something happen between you two?” Christian remained quiet as he watched you disappear into the trees, leaving him standing in the very spot he left you just 2 summers ago. The rest of the night you avoided Christian at every turn, pretending he didn’t even exist. You knew Adam and Christian would be leaving in the morning and you knew it would be a long time before you would see either of them again. You were able to compose yourself long enough to get through the rest of your party, but you broke down in tears once you were behind closed doors. It looks like Christian broke the promise he made to your brother. He made you cry again.

[whats-wild-to-you]

ok id like to ask for one where the reader is insecure about her thighs being bigger so she has the habit of covering them or moving away when he tries to touch them

then he notices and is all cute and shit and reassures her

then adding in a ”plus… more of u to love while i f--k u“

smut is not needed but greatly appreciated

this ask is so long LOL sorry if its really specific

thank u if u choose to write it (:

why do I feel like Jay might be having a thicc thigh kink? 😏

___________________________________________

"Hey babe, wanna go shopping together?"

Whenever Jay sounded this excited about something, I knew I didn't stand a chance. Resistance was futile, so I nodded and we went on our way.

Strangely, Jay was dragging me towards the women's section of the department store, while I was trying to steer him towards the men's section.

"Wow, look! Isn't this a nice dress?" He asked, holding up a yellow dress that was definitely much too short for my liking.

"When did you start cross-dressing?" I joked in hopes of confusing him.

He ignored my comment and held the hanger in front of me. When I made a disgusted face, he quickly put it down.

"You're right. That's not your color! What about something like this then?" He said more to himself, holding up a pastel green babydoll.

"Not exactly your style, but I bet you can make it work!"

"Be serious for a second!"

"I am! I thought you wanted me to come with you for advice! Had I known you'd be dragging me to the women's section, I would've stayed at home!"

Furious, I stomped off, remembering we had passed by an ice cream place on our way here.

Summer was my personal hell. Not because I couldn't stand the heat, or because I was constantly sweating. No, it was because of my body. My thighs to be more precise.

While everyone told me they were fine, I was always hellbent on hiding them. It worked out better in the colder months, but in the summer I was suffering because of the maxi dresses and long pants I made myself wear.

'Who the eff cares about if your thighs are a little thick?', my best friend would say. 'Nobody's perfect!'

But the thing was, Jay damn near was. How he decided to ask me out on a date when he was surrounded by much prettier girls, would forever remain a mystery to me. But he did. He chose me, and after a while I learned to overlook the nasty, jealous looks I got from those girls. Those with the perfect bodies, not an once of excess fat and thigh gaps. I long suspected that Jay knew about my insecurities, especially since I never let him touch my thighs when we were getting frisky. Anything below my waist was off-limits for his hands.

"Here you are! I've been looking for you!"

"Please! Where else would I be?" There was sarcasm in my voice and Jay sighed before he grabbed my hand and dragged me out and onto the parking lot.

"Where are we going? You didn't buy anything!" Suddenly I felt bad that my immature, insecure self ruined Jay's shopping trip.

"I don't need anything. I wanted to get you something though."

"What? One of those outfits? The only thing you could've gotten me in there were their giant plastic bags."

Jay knew not to cut in when I was going on and on in one of my many self-descructive rants. All he did was place his right hand on my thigh, as he steered through traffic with his left.

Damn, he looked hot doing it! How the hell am I dating that guy? I immediately stopped mid-sentence.

"I think you would look incredible in those outfits! I want to buy them for you! In fact, I'll come back here tomorrow and I will."

"I doubt I'd be wearing such clothes, you know m-"

He squeezed my thigh lightly, which made me shut up once again.

"You're beautiful, your body is perfect. I love every inch of it!"

"Well, I don't."

"You should. I actually had planned the whole afternoon, but I think right now what I need to do is take you back home and up your bedroom, so I can show you what I mean!"

I rolled my eyes at him, but giggled nonetheless. "I mean, you could try!"

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 21

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2529

Warnings: Swearing, grief, death

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks

Chapter Songs: Right Where You Left Me Everybody Does

****

Juliette

Of all things Ghost could've said, hearing Hangman nearly got her killed never crossed Juliette's mind, although it certainly explained Ghost's aversion to him and the guilt that seemed to engulf Hangman whenever she appeared. Juliette remembered all too well how the Daggers said Hangman got his name because he would allegedly leave them hanging and go solo, but now she wondered if the callsign originated from a darker place. 

"I'm sorry," Juliette said in embarrassment, ashamed for bringing the topic up despite Ghost's unwavering decision to remain silent on the subject whenever possible. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. I'm not going to push. I didn't realize-"

"No, no, it's okay. It was going to come up sooner or later." Ghost laughed dryly and shook her head. "The thing is, that's not why I'm upset with him. It'd make so much more sense if that was the reason, but it's not. For better or worse, I know Jake like the back of my hand, and what happened that day... he would never do something that would bring us harm; he made a grave miscalculation that day, and it had unintentional deadly consequences."

Juliette remembered the story Ghost had told her about her WSO, and suddenly, she put two and two together, feeling like an idiot for taking all this time to make the connection. "You're talking about Ghoul, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Ghost bent down to look under the plush rocking chair, studiously avoiding Juliette's gaze. "Back when I told you that she died and that it was a bad training accident, it wasn't a lie, but I didn't tell you the whole thing because I'd have to bring up Hangman, and I couldn't bring myself to speak of him because on top of being furious with him, I also missed him terribly, and it was an awful combination of emotions. Now, it feels stupid to still be so upset with him over the whole thing, but I can't move past it."

"What exactly did he do if you're not mad at him for nearly killing you?"

Ghost reached under the recliner and pulled out the English instructions for the crib. Sitting down, she placed them in front of her and Juliette and began grabbing the pieces for the first step. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Sort of," Juliette admitted, racking her brain for the story from so long ago. "I remember you had to eject, and Ghoul's parachute failed."

"We were in the middle of a training mission. Hangman and Phoenix acted as the enemy; Coyote and I were meant to get them. Phoenix took Coyote out first, but I managed to maneuver behind her right after. Hangman tried to fly between our planes to throw off the lock I was about to get on her, but he misjudged the distance and flew too close in front of me. I blew through his jetwash and lost control of the plane." Ghost wiped her nose with her sleeve and reached for the package of nails, ripping it open and taking out a handful that the instructions told her she needed. Juliette silently held the pieces in place while Ghost screwed them, waiting for her to continue. It took a few minutes before Ghost spoke again, her voice tinged with hurt and sorrow. "I honestly don't remember much after that. I have vague memories of the three of them shouting at me and Ghoul to eject, landing in the rough waters, trying to keep my and Ghoul's heads above the water despite the agonizing pain. I tried lugging us onto the raft, but I had no strength. It was either save myself and let Ghoul go or risk dying with her in the ocean, and I chose the latter. I wasn't-" Ghost's voice hitched- "I wasn't letting her go. I wasn't going to leave her."

"Annalise, I'm so sorry," Jules breathed, reaching for her friend's hand. The words sounded hollow and insincere despite Juliette meaning them wholeheartedly, but nothing could truly console someone who went through what Ghost did. "I can't imagine what that must've been like."

"I woke up in sick bay; I had a neck brace on, my chin bandaged up from when the force of the ejection pushed it into my chest, and a cast on my leg. It'd been fractured during the ejection process. Ghoul's parachute somehow got twisted and never fully opened. Almost every bone in her body broke from the impact of hitting the water. She died before I woke up. I never got to say goodbye, which was one of the hardest things to accept. I couldn't even get out of bed to try and say my apologies and farewells, dead or not, and God, I tried. I tried convincing anyone who would listen to me to help me out of that Godforsaken bed to go see her, but no one listened." Ghost kept her face hidden from view, but Juliette noticed the tears dripping onto her friend's black leggings. Ghost's voice shook now as she struggled to finish her story. "Cyclone visited me first. I'd never seen him so shaken and pale. He's the one who broke the news about Ghoul to me. He also told me that I'd briefly died too. I'd swallowed a lot of seawater without realizing it; it filled up my lungs, and I went into severe respiratory distress because of it. Flatlined and was clinically dead for a few minutes. It's weird- I had a harder time coming to terms with Ghoul's death than comprehending my own. I didn't believe Cyclone when he told me about Ghoul until Coyote visited me. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and that's when the truth finally hit me. He stayed at my bedside until I fell asleep and was there when I woke up. Phoenix, Warlock, and a few others dropped in to check on me, but the one person I wanted to see, the one person I needed, never did."

Juliette's shoulders sagged. "Hangman."

"Yeah. At first, I thought it was because he had a thing against hospitals ever since his mom died, but then I learned he'd gone to see Ghoul but not me. That... that one hurt, but I was willing to overlook it because it was Jake, and whether I wanted to admit back then or not, I loved him," Ghost confessed softly, turning the page of the instructions with shaking hands. "I even asked Coyote why Hangman hadn't visited me and to tell him to come see me, and Coyote always said he wasn't sure why, only that he relayed my message to Jake, but, of course, it made no difference. Jake never did. So I tried rationalizing all the reasons why he wouldn't see me and figured it had something to do with his mom, choosing to ignore the fact he had gone to see Ghoul. I convinced myself he'd be waiting for me when I left sick bay. Well, that day came, and Coyote was there, but Hangman wasn't. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry so badly, but I wouldn't let anyone see that, not even Coyote, despite how well he knew me, and I think that's when the grief started turning into fury. I barely saw Hangman until the trial, and even in those few fleeting moments that I did, even when I purposefully sought him out to talk, he turned and burned to avoid me or came up with some stupid excuse before leaving, like he couldn't even stand to be around me. Do you want to know the first time he tried talking to me willingly?"

Juliette shook her head. "When?"

Ghost scoffed bitterly while wiping away her tears. "After he was cleared of any wrongdoing in the trial. After I defended him in front of the jury and the entire Navy. Then, and only then, did he try to talk to me of his own free will, and by then, I was done with him. I may have defended him wholeheartedly in court, but now I couldn't face him without this surge of anger immediately coursing through me. The worst thing is that I know what I did hurt him. I know that when he tried to approach me after the trial, and all I did was glare at him as I walked by and ignored his request to talk, I could see the pain in his eyes. It took all my willpower not to turn around and forgive him then and there because it was like kicking a puppy, and I knew he blamed himself for Ghoul's death, but my heart had been shattered by so many things in such a short time that the mere idea of letting him back into my life would lead me down the rabbit hole of why I'd kicked him out of it in the first place, followed by the same, gut-wrenching, heart-stopping pain as if it were the very first day of the accident, and I couldn't- I couldn't do it. I'd rather feel nothing than feel like that ever again."

Juliette wiped away her own tears, moved by the visible emotion of Ghost, someone she'd never seen cry over another person, let alone cry at all. "It's terrifying to give your heart and trust to someone after they broke it, especially when you love them the way I believe you loved Hangman. It's like giving someone a knife after they just stabbed you and trusting them not to do it again."

"Is that how you felt with Rooster when he came back?"

"Yeah..." What Juliette failed to add was that if they compared situations, she would be the Hangman in hers, and Rooster would be Ghost. Juliette had been the one to break Rooster's trust by keeping a life-altering secret from him, no matter the good reasons she had for doing so. However, now wasn't the time to tell Ghost that. Dredging up these memories had taken a toll on her that Juliette had never seen before in her friend, and she did not want to add to the stress of it all by trying to defend Hangman's actions. Perhaps at a later time...

"Everyone believes I hate him because he nearly got me killed, and I let them because outside of a handful of people that I can literally count on one hand, including you, they'd think it's stupid for me to hold this grudge against him because he ignored me while I was incapacitated. I can't explain why I had such a strong reaction to it other than I loved him, and he'd given no reason for me to suspect he'd leave me hanging when I needed him most. Even Jackie and my parents think it's ridiculous that I haven't spoken to him in all these years; they don't bring it up because I'm their daughter, but knowing they feel that way makes it all the worse and makes me feel like I'm being over-dramatic and a fool, and then I hate myself for feeling the way I do-" 

Ghost suddenly crumpled in on herself, bracing her elbows on her knees and burying her face into her hands in a futile attempt to hide her body-wracking sobs. Juliette scooted next to her friend as fast as her pregnant belly would allow her and pulled Ghost into a tight side hug. 

"Listen to me, Annalise-" Juliette said tenderly yet firmly- "it's okay to be hurt by what Hangman did; he made you feel abandoned during a time you needed him most. Add in the extreme trauma of what you went through- physically, mentally, and emotionally- I'm sure that had a part in how strongly you reacted to the situation, and that's okay, too, regardless of what others say. Do not hate yourself for feeling the way you do. No one else's opinion matters on the subject but yours. If you feel that you still need to be upset with him, then do that. Fuck everyone else."

Ghost pulled away and offered a tiny but grateful smile through her tears. "Thank you. You're the first person I've told all that too. Not even my parents and Jackie know all of it. Not the bit about feeling stupid and over-dramatic, at least. But I'm so sorry for dumping this all on you. We should be building cribs, not having an impromptu therapy session where it stresses you out and raises your blood pr-"

"No, no, no, you're not stressing me out. I'm glad you finally told me. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell everything."

"I would've told you dinner the day after I arrived, but I'd seen how close you and Jake were at the Hard Deck and didn't want to put you in this uncomfortable position where you felt like you had to choose one friend over another. That's not fair to you. You've already gotten dragged into our shit more than you should've."

"Actually, outside of the first night, you two have been relatively cordial around each other in front of everyone."

Ghost winced. "I was pretty brutal to him that night. I wasn't expecting him to be there and lashed out, which isn't an excuse, but I took a cheap shot with my 'watery grave' comment. I felt guilty the moment I said it." 

"We've all said things we regret. It happens, but I think you can come back from it if you ever want to make amends with him."

"Part of me does, part of me doesn't. Not going to lie, half of the reason I sounded so exhausted this morning is I was up half the night crying because of that dilemma. I don't know what to do, and I don't like not knowing things, no matter what it may be."

"And the other half?"

"I mean, it still was from crying, but I was missing Ghoul badly yesterday. For the past few years, I've celebrated her birthday by myself, but last night, Hangman and Coyote joined, and it reminded me of the good old times when it was us and Ghoul. I miss those times. I miss Hangman. He was my best friend. My home..." Juliette understood all too well the ache that Ghost spoke of, and she opened her mouth to empathize with her friend, but Ghost sniffled and said, "We should probably get a move on if we're to get one of these done before the boys get home?"

Recognizing Ghost's desire to shift topics of conversation for now, Juliette obliged and handed her the next piece of the crib. "Don't worry. Bradley and Jake are great partners in the air. On the ground, they're a walking disaster. I bet it'll take them at least an hour to get dinner. Probably longer."

The comment caused Ghost to chuckle, and the girls set to work building the crib. Juliette ensured none of their conversation included Hangman, namely for Ghost's sake, but her interest in the topic was piqued exponentially. There were two sides to every story, and now she had to learn Hangman's. 

****

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[emotionalcadaver]

Part 11: Don't Look Back

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy tries to cling to what remains of her family. But not all of them are amiable to her proposal for what they should do next.

Word Count: 4,351

Notes: Warnings for depictions of minor character deaths, religious fanaticism, murder, blood, violence, and references to past sexual assault.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part

Chapter 2: The Ghost of What You Would Have Been

She slammed the front door to the house shut to announce her presence.

“Mum? Elliot?”

There was no response. Lucy’s brows pulled inwards. They should have been back from the funeral by now. Footsteps thundering as she moved to the kitchen, she came to a stop at the sight of her mother seated in her rocking chair, wearing a black dress that clasped high on her throat.

“Mum? How was it?”

“Hm?” her mother’s eyes were faraway.

“The funeral. How was it?”

“Oh. It was alright.”

“Yeah,” Lucy nodded, coughing and glancing around. “Can I get you anything, or…?”

“No, no. I’m alright.”

“Mum,” she got down on her knees in front of her. “I know that this is probably the last thing that you want to talk about right now, but I really think that it would be safer for you and Elliot if you came back with me to Birmingham.”

“Elliot says–”

“I know what he says, but he doesn’t understand. I’m trying to keep you both safe–”

“Elliot told me that all the rumors about you…everything that they say…” her mother swallowed. “He says that they’re all true, Lucy.”

It felt like her feet had been knocked out from under her. Like that moment of freefall when you missed a step walking up or down the stairs. “What?”

“He says that your boss is a gangster. That you killed Matthew and your father with his help. That you’ve…had relations with him,” her mother looked at her with huge, deep green eyes the same shade as her own. “Is he telling me the truth, Lucy?”

“Mama…”

“Is he?”

She looked at her mother levelly, mournfully, knowing that confirming any of it likely meant that she would lose her forever. “Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

Her mother drew in a shaky breath, shrinking back in her chair from her. 

“Mum, listen–”

“I told you,” Elliot was standing in the doorway, watching them. “I told you, Mum, she’s dirtied. Soulless,” he took a step closer. “Nothing but a fucking whore.”

“Fuck you,” Lucy spat out at him.

“You can’t even repent,” he said, and it was her father all over again. Forcing them to recite Bible verses. Forcing them to pray over every tiny thing. Screaming to them with threats about hell and the Devil. “There’s no saving you, with how much of yourself you’ve already given to him. You’re damned. Forever. But you won’t take us too,” he shook his head. “I won’t let you.”

Lucy pulled herself to her feet and took a step towards him. Elliot took a step back, and held up a cross between them like a shield. Lucy stared at him vacantly, a little baffled, before reaching out and plucking it from his fingers, tossing it away. “Really?” 

“If you had stayed with Matthew, just done as you were told, everything would be alright. Our household wouldn’t have been tainted with the filth of your sin. He would have made an honest, good woman out of you,” Elliot insisted.

“He would have killed me within a year.”

“But your soul would have been saved,” his lip curled. “And Matthew was a good man. He would have taken care of you; as long as you were a good wife.”

“He was a monster,” her voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, and the Devil isn’t?”

“He’s always been kind to me.”

“Is that how you justified your actions to yourself when you let the Devil put his cock inside you?”

“Elliot, stop,” her mother pleaded from the rocking chair. Lucy glanced between them, then fixed her brother with a furious glare.

“I’m not doing this,” she said, moving to shove past him to head for the door. But Elliot thrust a hand out to block her path.

“Your sin can’t be allowed to continue, sister.”

Tommy was waiting for her in the car outside. She just needed to get through the front door, and it would all be fine. Moving to duck under his arm, she let out a yelp as he suddenly grabbed her firmly by the hair, yanking hard enough to make her eyes water. A thousand terrible memories sprang into her mind, and in the moment that she hesitated, he heaved her upwards, and threw her into the living room. 

Her mother screamed.

Her head cracked against the hardwood floor hard, and she coughed, dazed, fumbling for the blade she kept sheathed in her shoe. She just managed to pull it free, beginning to raise it, when Elliot was on her again. He seized both her arms, pinning them over her head, straddling her thighs to keep her from kicking out with her legs.

“Don’t–” she croaked out, and she looked into eyes of pure violence and hate.

“I have to. In order to cleanse our household.”

She spat on him. Elliot just tsked, pityingly, and with one hand still pinning her arms to the floor, he locked the other around her throat, beginning to squeeze. Lucy thrashed her head from side to side, rocking her body in an attempt to dislodge him. He was heavy and much stronger than her. The position and the sudden panic was all too familiar, the memories that had returned when he yanked on her hair only becoming more vivid.

“Hold still, goddammit–”

CRACK!

The back of Elliot’s head was struck by a heavy, decorative glass vase, the flowers and water it had contained spilled out onto the floor. Elliot fell to the side with a groan, fingers flexing into fists in reaction to the pain.

Lucy didn’t give him a chance to recover, hurtling forwards with her blade extended, she knocked him to the floor, bringing the blade down in an arching stab into his chest, over and over, sobbing. She finally embedded the knife into his torso one last time, pulling it out with a spray of blood.

“Fuck you!” she screamed into his stunned, slackened face. Little gurgles and squelches sounded from him as the blood spurted out of his chest, but that was all. He was dead.

Rocking backwards, Lucy landed to sit on the floor, scooting away from the body, blade landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor. Gaze pulling very slowly from what remained of her brother, she looked at her mother, still standing near the entryway to the kitchen, vase clutched in her hands.

They looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Mum…” she trailed off. Not sure what else to say. Or if there even was anything to say, as Elliot’s blood soaked into the floor.  

∗ ∗ ∗ 

The vase fell from Genevieve’s arms to land with a dull thud against the floor, the glass thick enough that it only cracked rather than shattered. Lucy was still curled against the far wall that she’d scooted against to get away from Elliot’s body.

Her stomach rolled as the stench of blood hit her all at once, the reality of what had just happened.

The door flew open, not having been locked in the first place, and Genevieve jumped, scream catching in her throat a moment before it managed to sound.

The figure standing there was the most beautiful man that Genevieve had ever seen; stockily built with a sharp jaw and cheekbones, full lips, and freckles, dark hair covered by a gray cap. And eyes so piercing and light blue that when he looked at her, it felt like he was peering into her soul.

It took the man about five seconds to take in the scene before him, slamming the front door shut behind him and holstering the gun he’d had clutched in his hand. All but ignoring Genevieve, he bent down beside her daughter, hand on her shoulder, cupping her chin as his eyes scanned over her for injuries. Lucy sniffled.

“Tommy…”

“It’s alright,” he said in a rumbling, Birmingham baritone. Just the sound alone seemed to soothe Lucy, eyes closing and head leaning into his touch when he cupped her cheek. “Stay here.”

She nodded silently, arms wrapping around herself. The front of her white button down shirt was stained crimson. 

The man pulled himself back to his feet, and approached Genevieve in a handful of long, booming strides. It took a great deal of self control to keep herself from taking a step back. He didn’t look particularly tall, but still he towered over her, face set in a serious frown.

“I’m Thomas Shelby,” he held out a hand to her politely. Genevieve stared at it almost dumbly before raising a trembling hand to shake his.

“Genevieve Winters.”

“Do you have a phone, Mrs. Winters?”

“In the–in the kitchen,” she stuttered, gesturing vaguely. Thomas nodded and swept around her. Staggering forward, she fell to her knees at Elliot’s side, reaching out to touch his still, pale face with her fingertips. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered. Broken as her husband may have made him, Elliot was still half hers. He was still her little boy. Tears began to roll down her cheeks in rivers. Was it not cruel enough that she had to bury one child today? She was not sure if she was strong enough to bear watching another coffin lower into the ground so soon.

There was the hum of Thomas’s deep voice as he spoke over the phone for a handful of minutes, and then he was back in the living room, bending over Lucy, hands settling on her shoulders, thumbs wiping at her cheeks where she’d been silently crying. Genevieve wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that it was alright. It wasn’t her fault. She did what she had to do. But she couldn’t find the words. 

It didn’t take long for a knock to sound at the door. Thomas peered through the front curtains to check who it was, then opened the door to two men.

“Clean it up, boys,” he said, then turned to Genevieve. “How nosy are your neighbors, Mrs. Winters?”

She hesitated. “The woman across the street likes to gossip…”

“Are there any other ways out of this house besides the front door?”

“Um, we have a back door, leads into a little garden…there’s a gate that heads out into the back road.”

Thomas gestured to the men, who had begun to bustle over Elliot. “Take him out that way.”

“Yes, Mr. Shelby.”

“Where are you taking him?” Genevieve asked. Thomas gave her a look. Right. Gangster. They would probably take Elliot to be incinerated in some factory furnace, or sunk to the bottom of the river.

The very idea of it made her want to be sick, to scream and protest. But she knew better. Arguing with a gangster like the Devil of Birmingham wasn’t a fight that she would win.

“Where’s your lavatory?” Thomas asked, and when she looked up, those eyes were staring at her again, like they were reading her mind.

“Upstairs. Second door on the left.”

“Come on, love,” he said, with considerably more tenderness in his voice as he went back to Lucy, taking her gently by the arms and pulling her to her feet. He shot a look over his shoulder to the men bustling around Elliot’s body, making a small indication with his hand. The men nodded, and Thomas disappeared up the stairs with Lucy in tow.

“Ma’am, we’re going to need you to move, soon,” one of the men said. Genevieve drew in a trembling, sobbing breath, nodding, and bent to press her lips against her son’s brow, already cold to the touch, She stroked his hair.

“My boy, my baby, I love you,” she told him. “Mama loves you.”

She pulled away, unable to take looking at his cold, still figure anymore.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t let you leave,” one of the men said as they began to descend on Elliot, obscuring him from view. Genevieve nodded. 

“I’m just going upstairs.”

The man hesitated, then nodded in permission. Holding onto the banister with white knuckles, Genevieve hauled herself up the stairs. She did not want to see what they were about to do to her son’s lifeless body.

There was no sound of voices from down the hall as she slowly approached the open door to the lavatory, just the wet splash of water running, then the squelch of what might have been a rag being rung out. She came to a stop at the entryway, peering into the door curiously. 

Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the middle of the room with her back to the doorway, hands braced on either side of her. Thomas had just finished filling a basin with water, dipping a rag into it and ringing it out before he drew it slowly across Lucy’s face, wiping off the blood that had splattered her.

“Let’s get you out of this, eh?” he asked, voice low and soft as he set the rag down and began to fumble at the buttons of Lucy’s shirt. After a moment of hesitation, Lucy moved to help him, shifting her arms so he could push the fabric from her skin, setting it aside.

At the sight of Lucy’s back, Genevieve’s breath caught. The fair skin there was marred with dozens of thick scars, only partially faded. Some were large, running across the entire length of her back, while others looked to be more like small little knicks. Her shoulder blades moved with every breath, the scars stretching and pulling across the skin with the movements of her muscles. 

Genevieve realized that she’d never fully appreciated the extent of what Matthew had done to her, not until that moment, when the evidence of it was right there and shoved into her face.

Thomas dipped the rag into the water again, washing carefully along Lucy’s chest to collect the blood that had soaked through her shirt to cling to her skin. Lucy suddenly rocked forward, arms going around his neck. There were scars on her arms too. Less obvious, but still there. Thomas caught her against him, wrapping his arms around her and letting her curl into his chest with her face pressed into his neck. He petted the back of her head, eyes lowering as he touched his nose to her hair. Good God, there was love there, Genevieve realized all of a sudden, watching in wonder at the gentleness with which the Devil handled her, nothing but genuine in his attempts to comfort Lucy as she shivered, as he placed a kiss to her cheek.

Suddenly his eyes were staring directly into Genevieve’s. And while he did not let Lucy go, continuing to allow her to cling to him for comfort, the accusatory, protective look that twitched across his face had Genevieve staggering a step back, suddenly realizing that she had interrupted what was an intensely private moment. Something that she was not privy to, certainly not in the Devil’s mind. And she couldn’t really blame him, left only to imagine what Lucy had been like when she came to him after fleeing from London, forsaken by her family because none of them were brave enough to stand up to Victor and his dictatorial way of running the household. It had been Thomas, she realized, for all his supposed darkness and cruelty, who had pieced what broken pieces of her daughter remained back together. Who had taken care of her all of those years since. He knew what had happened to her, that much was clear, and yet he still loved her, still accepted her, just as she was.

That was not something that any of them had been able to do for her.

Shame twisting in her chest, and with Thomas’s eyes still burning holes into her back, Genevieve walked away.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

By the time he came downstairs, the men were gone, Elliot’s body taken with them. There wasn’t a single drop of blood left on the floor, or any sign that there had been a struggle at all. Flicking open his cigarette case, Tommy blew a puff of smoke out into the air, running a hand along his hair in silent contemplation. The stairs creaked in complaint as he continued to descend them, heading to the kitchen. 

Genevieve was sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, a cup of untouched tea in front of her, head resting on one fist. She looked so much like Lucy in that moment, save for the longer hair, that it almost took him aback.

“There’s tea on the counter if you want some,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Mm,” she looked down, both hands cupping around the teacup. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Upstairs. Getting a new shirt.” 

“I fear that I’ve been a terrible mother.”

Tommy wetted his lips, not quite sure what to say. “Lucy…has always spoken quite fondly of you.”

Genevieve scoffed. “She shouldn’t. I should’ve stuck up for her more. Her father could be so cruel and I was so…frightened all the time,” she shook her head. “It should have been me who challenged him, who questioned his decisions more. Not her,” her fingers drummed against the wood. “May I…sorry, may I have a cigarette?”

Tommy reached into his pocket and procured his case, handing her one.

“Thank you,” she took a puff from it, spewing the smoke out towards the open window. “I never worried all that much about her brothers. They all would have been fine. It was Lucy who I always was the most afraid for. She always seemed so strong, but inside…inside I think that she’s much more fragile than she would ever have anyone know. When her brother Patrick came back from the war, he blew his brains out right in front of her. Right here in this nook. She wasn’t herself for months, after it happened,” Genevieve swallowed, still not looking at him. “She always seemed so lost. Ever since she was a child. And lonely. But she was still the strongest of all of us. She reminded me so much of myself, when I was young,” she took another drag from the cigarette. “Perhaps I envied her, for that…”

Tommy cleared his throat. “Mrs. Winners…”

“Genevieve, please.”

“Genevieve,” he corrected. “Lucy has already told you about the suggestion that you move–”

“Yes, she has,” she interrupted him. “I’ve already decided what I want to do,” Genevieve suddenly stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray at the center of the table and stood.

“She’s been better since she found you. Happier. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Tommy nodded silently. Genevieve reached out a cautious hand, as if to touch his arm, then pulled back.

“I know that I have no right to ask you for anything, Mr. Shelby, but please, no matter what happens, look after her?” she looked down at her shoes. “She needs you.”

Tommy’s throat worked as he swallowed, nodding. “I will.”

“Thank you,” Genevieve turned to look at the staircase. “I need to speak with her, if you don’t mind?”

Tommy looked her over suspiciously. There was no indication that she might try anything; that she was bitter over the deaths of her two remaining sons and wished to take revenge. And if she did, he could be upstairs in a matter of seconds if he needed to be. “Alright.”

The stairs creaked as Genevieve began to climb them.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Smoothing out the shirt, Lucy looked herself over in the mirror, hand patting down her hair, then fiddling with the cuffs, procrastinating having to go downstairs and face her mother.

“Lucy?” 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Tommy was just one shout away, if she needed him.

Turning around, she found her mother standing in the doorway, wringing her hands together. Sitting down on the end of the bed, she forced herself to look into her mother’s blotchy, tear stained face.

“Your Devil seems nice,” her mother said, before Lucy had a chance to speak. Lucy stared at her in stunned silence. “I like him.”

“I’m…glad,” Lucy stuttered, still staring as her mother came to sit beside her on the bed. 

“What?”

“That’s just not what I was expecting you to say.”

Her mother snorted. “Your father was the religious one. Not me.”

“I think that you may be the first person in the world to describe Tommy Shelby as ‘nice.’”

Her mother chuckled and shrugged. Lucy hesitated.

“Mum, I’m sorry–”

“Oh, no. No, my girl. You have nothing to be sorry for. You did what you had to. He would have killed you. Remember that. It was you or him. Okay?” she waited until Lucy nodded before continuing. “I have decided to go join the caravan with my kin. I won’t be coming back here.”

“Okay. That’s good,” she felt a rush of relief. But her mother looked at her mournfully.

“And I think it would be for the best if neither of us saw each other again.”

Lucy jerked like she’d been slapped. “What? No, no, no. That’s not–that isn’t–” she struggled to find the correct words.

“I can’t stay to see what you will become,” her mother told her gently. “It’s not what you think, though. It’s not fear. It’s not religion, or disapproval. It’s…envy.”

“Envy?”

“You are…you are so much like me, Lucy. Like how I was. But…” she looked down and away, as if in shame. “You may have escaped your Matthew, dear, but I married mine. This,” she gestured to herself, to her waifish figure and stifled disposition. “Is what you would have become had you not gotten away, and I am so, so glad that you did, dearest,” she cradled her cheeks. “But your life does not have room for me in it.”

“It could,” Lucy tried to insist, tears welling in her eyes. “It could…”

“No, Lucy. It can’t. I’m getting old. All the fight and spunk was beaten out of me long ago,” she stroked her hair. “I don’t want you to be weighed down by the ghost of what you would have been.”

Lucy sniffled, but nodded, knowing that there was no point in arguing with her mother when she’d already made up her mind.

“You know I had hoped for a while that you would come back to us. As you were before Matthew. But you never really did. You’re still stuck down there. Deep under the ground. I suppose I should be amazed that you survived at all. After everything. You were always so strong. Much stronger than me…” her mother continued on.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Lucy said. Her mother just smiled at her kindly.

“You’ll be alright,” she assured. “Is your Devil good to you?”

“Yes,” Lucy whispered. “Yes, he is. Very much.”

“Good,” her mother smiled. “I think that he’s already taken far better care of you than the rest of us ever did.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” Lucy tried to console.

“That’s sweet of you to say, dear,” her mother’s smile was sad. “My kin have a camp, just outside the city. If I leave soon, I can make it there before it’s dark. Feel free to do what you would like with the house and everything left in it. I won’t be coming back.”

Lucy felt her chin wobble as she watched her mother begin to move about the bedroom, packing a small bag of necessities. “Will you at least…will you have someone call, should you get sick, or, or if something happens to you?”

Her mother gave her that sad smile again. “No, I won’t. It’s best if you think of me as already dead.”

Lucy choked on a small sob. It wasn’t like her and her mother had been extremely close during her growing up. And certainly not over the past few years since she’d moved down to Birmingham. But the idea of her just evaporating from her life was startlingly painful. Her mother clasped the suitcase, then lifted it, reaching out to touch Lucy’s face. For the last time.

“Don’t go,” Lucy whispered.

“I can’t be a part of the life you’ve chosen, Lucy. I think you know that,” she squeezed her shoulder. “You Devil will take good care of you. He has a good heart.”

Lucy choked on an amused laugh. “He’s a bad man, Mum.”

“Being a good man and having a good heart aren’t particularly exclusive, Lucy. You’ll be safe with him. You’ll be loved.”

Lucy nodded. “I know.”

Her mother cradled her face and kissed her forehead. “I love you with all of my heart.”

“I love you too, Mum.”

“Good-bye, my sweet girl.”

She watched as her mother walked away, as she stepped through the threshold of the bedroom and into the hallway, stairs creaking as she descended them. Then the front door opened and closed, and she was gone.

Coiling her arms around herself, Lucy turned to look out the window, at the stony gray houses lining the hazy London landscape. A moment later the floorboards creaked, then the space beside her on the bed dipped.

“Where did she go?” Tommy asked, sitting close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, arm wrapping around her.

“She’s gone to join a caravan with her kin–our kin.”

“Will she be back?”

“No.”

His arm tightened around her. “I’m sorry, love.”

Casting one last look out the window, she turned back to face him, letting him draw her deeper into his embrace, until her cheek squished against the material of his shirt and waistcoat. “Me too.”

His thumb drew circles into her shoulder.

“I want to sell the house. And its belongings. There isn’t anything left here for me anymore.”

“I’ll make some calls.”

“Thank you.”

Tommy just hummed. “Shall we go home?”

With a sigh, she nodded, the idea of returning to Birmingham bringing with it a sense of relief. “Yeah.”

She took only one thing from the house; a single faded, old photograph from when they’d all still been alive and together. And then she stepped outside, followed Tommy to the car, and never looked back.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

[commander-krios]

Revan x Canderous: resisting the urge to kiss forever, then muttering “fuck it” before kissing each other. ;)

I know it's been like almost six months since you sent this ask, but I uh got inspired and this came out. :D I hope you enjoy it! It ended up pretty long in the end and I'm really happy with it! It has a little violence about halfway through, but nothing too graphic.

AO3 Link

~~~~

Canderous had no expectations when he joined the Jedi and her crew on the mission to find the star maps. All he wanted was glory, regain honor for his people, and a damned good fight. Maybe some credits if he got the chance. He was a simple man. It was another's problem if they thought differently about him. He couldn’t care what the Jedi Princess thought.

But there was one hiccup.

Revan.

The woman had snuck on him. Practically hit him right over the head. He should be furious about the entire thing, the lies, and deceit that the Jedi had fed them all. The fact that Bastila had walked around with Revan beside her and said not one karking word about it.

Instead, he found himself watching her from afar, trying to find some piece of the former Sith Lord in that tiny package. He’d never met Revan in person during the Mandalorian Wars, but he’d heard tales of her exploits. How she had slain Mandalore. He could see the decimated remains of his people in her dark eyes.

There was something inherently dark about her from the beginning. Now he knew why.

Canderous was in the cargo hold, toying with his repeater at the workbench when she finally walked in. His eyes immediately sought her out. His gaze swept over the strong muscles of her back and shoulders, exposed by the top she wore. She could wield a lightsaber with remarkable strength, but there was grace in it. She reveled in the fight as much as he did. It’s why they got on so well.

Her ebony hair was pulled into an elaborate coil at the top of her head, the pale expanse of her neck a tempting invitation as she stretched, arms over her head. It took everything he had to turn away, his eyes focused on the deconstructed weapon in front of him. There were more important issues to deal with at the moment.

One of those being the big flashy sign that screamed Malak, but he couldn’t help himself. His eyes moved of their own accord, enjoying the view of her half clothed body as it twisted in the lightsaber forms she was practicing. She paused after each one, letting the movement stretch her muscles, before she moved gracefully into the next.

The sheen of sweat on her skin was almost as tempting as the way her body moved.

Or those dark eyes that could see into his very soul.

“Is there a problem, Mandalorian?” Her voice was quiet, dark like liquor, washing over him with a hint of promise and wicked intentions. When she glanced over her shoulder, those nearly black eyes sent a thrill through him. “You’re staring.”

Her intention was to provoke him, it wasn’t the first time she pranced around half naked for his benefit, but this time it was different. Because he knew who she was. What she was.

And he couldn’t help but want her more than he’d ever wanted anyone.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the workbench, raising a scarred eyebrow. “There’s nothing you have that I want.”

By the smile that curled her lips, he knew she saw through the lie immediately. “Whatever you say.”

He said nothing, turning back to his repeater with renewed interest. She thought their interactions were a game. She would be disappointed to find that he didn’t do games.

Footsteps echoed in the small space as the Ebon Hawk’s pilot entered the hold, stopping short at the sight of Revan standing there, half naked in her training attire. His face went through the stages of grief, only to settle on anger.

So- Onasi was still bitter that the woman he’d been fighting beside was the infamous Sith Lord. Figures. Idiot can’t see past his own petty revenge to the bigger picture.

What does the bigger picture mean to you, Ordo? He couldn’t help but ask himself. 

It didn’t matter. He was a man of his word and he would follow Revan to the end of this damned thing, even if it killed him. Hell, she’d already destroyed everything when she practically wiped the Mandalorians from the galaxy.

Loyal to a fault, that’s what Mandalore had told him once.

Well, Canderous was one of the only clan leaders left after the war, Mandalore dead and gone years ago. The man didn’t have any words left.

Revan ignored them both as she continued her exercises, but by the stiffness in her shoulders, she wasn’t completely unaffected. Carth didn’t speak, staring momentarily with slanted eyes before continuing on to the dormitory, rage pouring off of him in waves. At least the man had some self-preservation in that thick skull of his. 

Revan sighed, her frustration evident. He couldn’t help it when his eyes glanced her way, unable to ignore her for more than a minute at a time. He noted with some disappointment that she’d put her robes back on, an ugly combination of grey and black, doing absolutely nothing for her form. That’s when he noticed the lightsabers clipped to her belt.

“Where are you going?”

“Need to blow off steam.” She pushed past him, her mood turned sour thanks to Onasi’s interruption. Great, she was going to get herself killed. Chasing after Revan was Bastila’s job and now he was the one stuck with it because she’d gotten herself captured by the Sith.

Damn Jedi Princess.

“Alone?” He grumbled, the repairs on his repeater a distant memory. “Tatooine isn’t the best place to be running off.”

She paused, dark eyes glancing in his direction, a frown on those red lips he constantly denied wanting. “I didn’t realize you actually cared, Canderous.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that the only person who can kick Malak into a black hole is going to get her stupid ass killed on a planet that would eat you just as quickly as the people would.”

Revan’s eyes slanted dangerously. “I’ll take HK.”

Yeah, that wasn’t better.

Turning on her heel, Revan left him in the silence that followed. He didn’t know if she went to get the droid. He didn’t care. She was going to drive him into an early grave and it wouldn’t be because of a firefight.

Blasted woman.

Cursing under his breath, he reached for one of the spare repeaters and followed.

~~~~

The Tatooine desert was unforgiving in its heat, the dual suns beating down with unbroken rays against their skin. Revan was already flushed from the heat and exertion of trudging through the dunes. Unfortunately, she hadn’t shed those thick ugly robes and sweat was starting to glisten at her temple and collarbone. 

“Warning: My circuits are beginning to overheat, Master.” HK-47 spoke in that annoying modulated voice that all HK droids had. It hadn’t shut up since they left Anchorhead nearly thirty minutes before, complaining about the heat more than a sentient could.

“Don’t you have a cooling fan or something?” Canderous snapped, shouldering the too small repeater with a grunt. “Turn it on and shut up.”

Revan continued on, her short legs carrying her ahead of them faster than he would’ve expected. Her fury was still burning hot in her blood even if her expression was clear of all emotion.

And Canderous planned on making it burn hotter.

“So, what was that back there?” He asked, trying not to sound winded by the brisk pace. Usually, it wouldn’t bother him but she stomped through layers of sand so thick that it felt like walking through the mud on Kashyyyk. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Canderous grunted, expecting her to dodge the question, but also irritated she thought he would give up so easily. “Looks like lover boy can’t handle the truth about what you are.”

Revan’s steps faltered briefly before she whirled on him, eyes alight with the fire she tried so hard to hide. “Excuse me?”

“Onasi?” Canderous lifted an eyebrow at the bewildered expression on her face. “Oh come on, Revan. You aren’t stupid. You expect me to believe you had no idea he was soft on you?”

“Even if that was true, what makes you think I care what he thinks?” 

Before he could respond, pointing out that she did care what Onasi thought, she cared about what they all thought even if she shouldn’t, a shadow appeared in Canderous’ peripheral, manifesting in the form of three black robed Sith. Pale skin broken by the black veins of dark side corruption was barely visible in the shade from their hoods.

Goddammit, this wasn’t like him to let his guard down.

Revan was a distraction that was going to get him killed.

“Malak sends his regards, Revan.” The Sith at the front of the trio said, voice dripping with the same darkness that accompanied every Sith they met. 

“Statement: I think these meatbags wish you harm, Master.”

Revan pulled her lightsabers from her waist, igniting both the instant they were in her hands. Blue and purple glowed in a halo around her, the humming of the sabers almost a comfort now. “Good.”

Canderous barely had the time to react before she threw herself into battle, a blur to his eyes. Lightsabers met in a shower of sparks, red against blue and purple. She threw up a hand, the force obeying her every whim, and pushed the Sith back a few feet, sending him off balance enough to give her the advantage.

Lifting the less familiar repeater, he let off a burst of fire at the closest enemy. The Sith deflected the bolts as they came and Canderous moved closer to Revan, keeping her exposed right flank protected. A stray bolt came back at him, striking him in the arm as he turned to fire again. He hissed, ignoring the pain as best as he could to continue fighting.

With a scream, Revan struck hard against her own foe, lightsaber leaving a gaping wound in the Sith’s chest. When he landed on the dunes, unseeing eyes on the sky above, sand coated the air around them, nearly choking Canderous when he took a deep breath. Sweat dripped into his eyes, the glare from the suns making it difficult to see.

With the fallen Sith forgotten, she leapt over the body and attacked the Sith that had focused his attention on HK. She swung her saber, and as it left her hand, the man ducked the projectile. He must’ve expected Revan to be weaker without both lightsabers in hand, but he’d clearly never met her in combat before.

She was a master of the Force, yes, but more than that, she was a master of the battlefield. She’d commanded soldiers and Jedi in the war against the Mandalorians, and in her war with the Republic after. She knew how to move the pieces to guarantee victory. She’d even led from the front lines and people followed her because they believed in what she could accomplish. Many had seen it for themselves.

Canderous couldn’t help but admire the way she moved as she fought, graceful yet powerful, fierce yet with a finesse he never saw with any other Jedi. She moved with both the dark and the light and he couldn’t look away when he was a witness to it.

She cut down the second Sith without any trouble, whirling towards the last, her second saber in her hand again. The final Sith didn’t even see it coming when she struck him down.

The droid was speaking again, but it was muffled under harsh breaths mingling with the sound of his pounding heart, battle adrenaline keeping him hyper focused on his surroundings. Revan stood over the dead, blood splashed across her robes, the lightsabers still humming as she held them at her sides. 

Canderous glanced at the Sith fallen in the sand, already half buried by the winds. It wouldn’t be long before there was no trace of the fight. Or of the dead.

“You’re injured.” Revan was beside him now, sabers returned to her belt, hand drifting to his arm.

“I’m fine.”

Her eyes met his, searching his face for the lie but she seemed satisfied with what she saw. That was part of the reason he followed her. She was strong, yes, but she also let her people make their own decisions, let them take the lead on missions, let them determine their own limits. Despite their violent and bloody history, she trusted him to tell her the truth and he trusted her to accept it.

When her crimson lips tipped upwards, he was surprised by the force of his reaction. His heart was steadying from the adrenaline of the fight, but at the sight of her amused grin, it picked up speed again, hammering against his ribs in an erratic rhythm. 

“You’re right. Maybe I care about what Carth thinks about me. But his opinion doesn’t matter when it’s yours I want.” 

Canderous always prided himself on his self control, on his ability to see a trap when it presented itself, on keeping a cool head when faced with impossible odds. None of these things applied to Revan. At least, not anymore. She was something else entirely and he didn’t know what to do with that.

When she turned away, prepared to return to Anchorhead, it clicked in his head. The sleek curve of her neck, the hypnotizing black eyes that were even more so with the red she painted them with, the easy way she smiled at him when she thought he wasn’t looking… and the thrill he got whenever he saw her in battle, the power and ferocity that was perfectly her.

You’re in love with her, you idiot.

Canderous always considered every step before taking it, but with Revan, he hadn’t expected any of this. It was one thing to imagine your enemy in your head while fighting, it’s entirely different to see them in the flesh. 

And she wasn’t his enemy any longer. 

His hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her midstep. She swung her gaze to his face, mouth opening slightly in confusion. Dropping the spare repeater to the sand, Canderous closed the distance between them with a single step, pulling her towards him. One arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her solidly against his chest. He dropped his grip on her hand to grab her coiled hair, tugging until it finally released, soft ebony locks tumbling around her shoulders and down her back.

“What are you-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Revan.” He growled, unable to resist the pull she had over him. “Before I change my mind.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him, pulling him to meet her in a crushing kiss. He didn’t care about the consequences anymore. He’d denied himself a lot in life, but there was no fighting the hold Revan had on him. Nothing mattered more than the woman in his arms. Or the kisses she peppered against his mouth, his jaw, his neck. She was greedy with those kisses, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth, swallowing the sounds she pulled from him before he could make them. He took advantage of her reaction, running his fingers through her hair, feeling the softness that was so at odds with the sharper edges of her personality. 

Everything about Revan was intoxicating. Her body was all soft curves against muscle, lips hungry and warm, skin damp from sweat. He wanted to remove the irritating Jedi robes that kept him from touching the rest of her. There was too much cloth and not enough skin.

“Statement-”

Revan ripped her mouth from his to glare at the HK droid, her fury rising to the surface as quickly as it had disappeared. “HK, meet us back at the ship.”

The droid was briefly stunned at the request. “Statement: As you command, Master.”

The sound of the droid’s hydraulics began to fade against the Tatooine winds as the droid left them. Canderous couldn’t help the grin that appeared. “What if it kills someone on the way back to Anchorhead?”

The look Revan shot him in response said many things, but the arch of her eyebrow proved she had other thoughts on her mind. Ones that probably involved him. “If he does, then they probably deserved it.”

Canderous couldn’t argue with that.

But he did have one concern.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, I’d rather not wake up with burns in… sensitive places.”

Her laugh was as addicting as the rest of her. The rage, while it enhanced her beauty on the battlefield, was only a temporary thing. When it was gone, what was left was who she was underneath the Jedi. A woman who had the pain of remembering the past and the despair of seeing the future.

Maybe for a little while, they could forget the galaxy ending war that hung over their heads.

Her hand slipped into his, fitting as if it was always meant to be there. The future wasn’t guaranteed, especially for people like a Jedi and a Mandalorian. They’d already survived battles that were meant to kill them a thousand times over.

Survivors they were, but they were more than that.

They were warriors.

“What did you have in mind?” She asked, a twinkle in her eye that only spoke of dark promises.

“You tell me, Revan.” Canderous said, knowing that the words he spoke were true before they had left his mouth. “I will follow you wherever you lead.”

[hakiarleon]

thinkin about my oc hours again: canonverse retsu, captain of the lilias knights circle, sister-in-law to the current viscountess sion.

— wedding greetings.

“You can’t rely on the Viscountess’ generosity forever!”

But I can yours? Retsu thinks, but does not say. She must be nice, because the Vice Captain is standing right outside the door ready to deliver her to the Lord of Lilias’ terrible, terrible, unending lectures the moment she missteps. She already apologised for playing hooky, can’t he let her off just the once? But no, he’s standing vigil with a goddamn vengeance, and she’s stuck in this stupid soap opera of a life.

You can’t rely on the Viscountess’ generosity forever. As if she ever has. If anything, it’s Arleon’s shoes she’s been licking, and loudly at that. Then again, that’s why she’s in this situation, isn’t it? Why she’s been in this situation, again and again. It really is so hard being such an eligible bachelorette.

Because the Lady of Arleon is getting married.

Because Haki is getting married.

“Probably not,” she says instead, hiding her scowl in a demure sip of stale tea. If Dorji’s trying to poison her like this now he better have given her guest the same treatment.

Alas, Lady Silk’s tea remains untouched. The prim composure that she wore into the room has chosen to abandon her, leaving her with a furious frown so starkly different from the condescending smile that she first greeted her with.

She kind of gets it. Someone of her stature probably isn’t used to being refused - worse still by another’s discarded goods. The title of Captain can’t quite obscure the truth of her identity, Arleon’s guard dog and runaway and whatever else.

“Even so,” she adds, just as the lady’s lips part, “I’m afraid I’m quite comfortable where I am.”

There’s a resignation letter in her desk drawer, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Well, she’ll find out eventually, Retsu thinks, watching her storm out of the humble greeting room, her attendant scrambling to keep up. Dorji glares at her.

She gets her revenge within the hour, slipping out while he’s buried under the piles of paperwork she’s been neglecting that are too urgent to wait on forcing her to work. Hah.

There’s a resignation letter in her desk drawer, and Dorji will be the first to know when it’s time. Even she can admit the poor guy deserves it.

Tucked under it, unopened, is the wedding invitation.

Haki had delivered it in person.

She’d known it was coming. Was flattered, even, to see Haki here, to know she’d come all this way just to let her know, because Wistal is more her home these days than Lilias. Well, she probably had to be here, anyway, official business with Makiri and the Countess and all but- it was nice. To see her. To have her near, as if this meant nothing.

Haki is getting married. She’d known it was coming. It still feels so sudden.

“Oh,” she’d said, bland as even Haki can’t make her not be. “That’s good,” she’d tried, because it is. The Countess must’ve been ecstatic. “Congratulations?”

Haki had smiled, that patient, familiar thing. “I wanted to tell you myself,” she’d said, like it was a secret. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Before she left (left her behind, left her office for the last time because without her here there’s no point to Retsu being here either, to clinging to the nearest thing she can find without asking for something she doesn’t deserve), she had asked what Retsu wanted.

Because Haki was going to be Queen and it was not the King’s choice alone. She is happy. She wants this.

Retsu’s never wanted much. Peace and quiet sometimes, the ruckus of the training hall and the bustle of the city other times. A home to come back to. Haki, close as she’s always been.

(Take me with you, she does not say.

She could. She could.)

Lilias is cold and unforgiving and so very far from Wistal, even though it had been just far enough from the Arleon estate.

Haki is leaving, so she will, too. The other way.

It’s not some eternal farewell, but when she sees her off, all the way to the city’s edge, after she’d spoken to Makiri and the Countess and whatever other business she’d had to tend to (long gone are the days when Haki’s business was her business, yet it aches like yesterday) - she feels something break.

She hands in her resignation after the wedding. The way Makiri instantly curses her out almost cheers her up. Dorji breaking down in tears screaming, “Fucking finally!” does not. Rena’s crying is even worse for how utterly sincere it is. Really, you do a good deed once and you never hear the end of it.

Haki of Arleon is crowned Queen Consort. Her sister’s generosity will have to serve her for now.

[chiefatticcreator]

Prompt. Chizuru objects to Orihime's wedding

Unfortunately, Chizuru did not want to make a scene right in front of the mayor... or the priest. So she had to take her anger in stride, to hide how furious the decision had made her. But as she watched Orihime and Ichigo exchange vows and look at each other like... like this, she could not stop thinking of how much she wanted to fuck Orihime, to bend the busty girl over the table, or over the altar, and shove her gigantic futa cock inside her again and again. To show in front of everyone what she really thought of said wedding, and of Orihime as well.

But she remained silent, even as Orihime Inoue became Ichigoo's wife. She only acted afterwards, during the party where all their friends and guests were talking to each other, complimenting the newlyweds on their union, giving them congratulations and good wishes, gifts and words. As soon as Orihime was a alone for a few moments, Chizuru had sprung into action. Smiling, she had walked over to the bride, and reached down, groping Orihime's ass through the beautiful wedding dress.

"I have something special for you, my 'Hime'." she smiled. "I'll give it to you in private."

SMACK

"I own you!" Chizuru groaned.

The weddign dress laid on the floor, discarded and forgotten, and the perverted woman had only one goa li nmind: to completely destroy Orihime's holes. Her ass, her cunt.. even her mouth, no hole would be barred access from Chizuru's monster fuckstick.

Chizuru's gignatic futa cock had reshapred Orihime once more, gaping and stretchign her more than Ichigo ever could, forever marking the busty girl as Chizuru's property, as her fucktoy, as her rape victim. As nothing more than a cow to fuck, with udders to glaze with cum, to coat in Chizuru's thick jizz, so that Orihime would reek of her true mistress all through the night.

[acotar-fanns]

A Court of Thorns and Roses Mini Fic

this is how I imagine the batboys eating together everyday before UTM happened.

Summary: Set before A court of thorns and roses and UTM. Rhys struggles with the idea of a someday mate and has breakfast with 2 Illyrian warriors.

I think about it more than I should. I wonder what life would be like, if I ever found my mate. Would she want a traditional mating ceremony? Or just friends and family? Would she like the company I keep? Would she even want to be mated to me?

I always have said, even from a young age, that whether she be my wife,mate, or both, she would be High Lady if I was to become the heir. My father never liked the idea, said it has always been consort, said that it was what our ancestors chose, so it would remain that way. I never had an argument to hold against that, so I buried that notion deep, contending against my father was a death sentence. Everyone in Prythian knew that, knew what happened when they messed with the High Lord of the Night Court.

Now I am the High Lord, and especially since my father is not here to object, there will be a High Lady, if she is ok with the responsibilities that will come with the title.

I get these visions sometimes, not even really visions, just fragments of an image. At first I thought it was of Velaris, the stars that so closely resembled the stars I see every night before sleep. But the closer I looked, I noticed they looked less like a picture of the stars, but a painting of them. I see slender and practiced hands, painting on to a canvas with simple paints, each stroke of the brush a deep breath out as I continue to watch through my mind.

Other times I see a beautiful woodland, one that looks nothing like the woods I have seen in Prythain. It’s got this quality about it, something I can’t explain. I’m almost drawn to it.

I wonder if she is from Prythian,or Hybern, or any sister continent. A part of me knows none of these are true. Where else could she be? I know the answer:

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌.

But a Human and Fae? That hasn’t happened for years. A Hybern solider, in the War fell in love with its opposing human leader. Jurian betrayed Clythia, as all Fae knew he would,humans were not to be trusted. After Clythia was killed, her sister Amarantha, was furious. She killed Jurian and all his human army, but kept his eye and finger, wears it as a ring, so he may live on, inside that ring, forever watching the Fae he hates.

Their story is one that is told to all Fae youth, a story to remind our kids that humans are to not be trusted, all are vermin. But what if my mate is human? Could I move past it? Could she move past her quarells with us?

“Dreaming of a girl, Rhys?” My brothers voice pulls me from thought.

“Nah, dreaming of all the ways I’m going to destroy you tomorrow.” I quip back. Tomorrow marks our annual snowball fight at my mothers cabin in Windhaven. Something we started as kids and have continued yearly. Azriel has been the reigning champion for 10 years but Cassian and I have been plotting our victory for nearly 8 months now.

“You know I always win,” Az responds, no doubt planning our collective demise.

“Don’t be so cocky brother. After all, that is what lost Rhysie here his victory 11 years ago.” Cassian entered the dining room, plate full of breakfast from all over Prythian, his new favorite way to start the day. Aside from admiring himself in the mirror that is.

These guys sitting to the right and left of me are the most feared Illyrians in history. These guys who have to wear seven Siphons each just to contain the power they hold, the guys who have saved my life on more than on occasion. These guys, —and Mor, who could forget her?— are my family. They will never be able to be replaced, ever. I would cleave this world in two before I allowed anything to harm them.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Az chuckles, “ I don’t plan on developing a boulder sized ego,” A look in my direction from both.

Cassian throws his head back in a laugh only Cass could ever replicate. The laughter is contagious, as always. The three of us sound a chorus of laughter that I’m certain bubbles all the way up to the Mother.

“Haha.Very Funny.” I said, feigning annoyance at my brothers words. Cass only sat down, still giggling like a toddler, grinning ear to ear. You would never know the Illyrian brutes often seen in public even have a funny bone in their body. We have all been taught the mask. The one we wear in throne rooms and stores. The one that is cold, unfeeling. The one everybody else expects us to wear. The Night Court. Court of Nightmares. The two are synonymous to everybody not in Velaris. For Velaris. Its safety. That is the only thing that matters.

Smirking, I leave Cass to his meal made for three horses. Az already left, no doubt checking in on the Illyrian armies for me. I never have to ask him, he just does it. I would never blame him if he never wanted to set foot in an Illyrian territory again. Cauldron knows he has suffered to much at those camps.

Shaking my head and letting my wings out to play, I leave the House of Wind and soar over this city that so unexpectedly became mine to rule.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Tomcats (2001)

Tomcats is a sex comedy so aggressively misogynist, so unfunny, and so inept it will make you want to chemically castrate yourself with molten lava. It’s an extreme statement but your hatred towards this film will be extreme. Anything you can do to dissociate yourself from this wretched excuse for entertainment isn’t enough.

As another member of the gang gets married, the remaining bachelors make a pact to stay single forever. To make their pledge more interesting, everyone in attendance agrees to throw money in a fund every year, with the last “tomcat” taking the whole thing. Years later, when Michael (Jerry O’Connell) becomes indepted to pit boss Carlos (Bill Maher, who adds another reason to hate him by appearing in this film), he desperately needs cash. He makes it his mission to get Kyle (Jake Busey) to fall in love with the one woman he came closest to caring for, Natalie (Shannon Elizabeth).

At least writer/director Gregory Poirier lays his cards on the table right away. This is American Pie if ALL of the characters were Stiffler after spending a decade inside the world of Porky’s and then 10 times less funny. To the men in this film, women are not potential partners or lovers and friendship is out of the question. If you have a pair of breasts and you’re attractive, you’re another target. If you’re old or overweight, you’re garbage. Nothing could be worse than telling a woman “I love you” or spending the rest of your life in a monogamous relationship.

Assuming you can get past the rampant hatred for women that stinks up the entire running time, you’re in for a ridiculous and convoluted premise. In a bid to impress a woman who “only pays attention to high rollers”, Michael blows over $50,000 dollars on the casino floor in one night. I say if he’s that stupid, let him get dumped in the ocean with cement shoes. He’s too dumb to live. Instead, he’s given one chance to save his life by setting up his “friend” in a fake marriage to a woman who hates him. Granted, said friend took Natalie's virginity and threw her away like a proposition to allow women the right to vote, so you don't feel bad for him. Turns out Natalie is a vengeful undercover police officer and she’s more than willing to use the precinct’s ressources to spy on a civilian. Plus, she'll get paid, so that's great but uh oh! The more time she and Michael spend together, the more they realize they have things in common… What could happen next?

The plot is as predictable as it gets and since there is no character development or relationships to be fleshed out, the running time is padded with gags so lame they’ll make you beg for death. When Natalie hints to Michael that she may be falling for Kyle, he becomes furious. In retaliation, he decides he’ll sleep with the next woman he sees (it’s that easy, don’t you know?). First one’s a fatty so he meant the first HOT woman he sees. It’s a demure librarian. I’ll give you three guesses what happens when she brings him home. It’s awful, but not as awful as the gag in which Michael has to chase down a runaway testicle in the hospital (really) or the running joke in which Michael and Kyle’s mutual friend, Steve (Horatio Sanz) thinks his beautiful wife, Tricia (Jaime Pressly) is cheating on him with another woman. She is and he would be mad about it but when he gets invited to join the in the bedroom, all of his anger and anxieties go away.

The performances from the leads aren’t the worst you’ve seen. Or maybe they just seem decent compared to Jaime Pressly, who is so awful you swear they sculpted her out of pine and dragged her on set. Your jaw drops but you pick it up quickly out of fear that some bodily fluid will fly out of the screen and into your mouth. This is the one area where the film kind of shows restraint. Aside from a fake-look lactating breast shown during a horrifying fantasy sequence, there isn’t any nudity in this movie… until the end credits when we see a bunch of outtakes, none of which are any funnier than the actual movie.

If all of these flaws weren’t enough, the direction is aw-ful. Gregory Poirier transitions from scene to scene like an amateur. You know those transitions you find in Microsoft Powerpoint? The one where the screen spins on itself, the checkerboard cross, the zig-zag cross, and the circle wipe? all are used without a dash of irony. The budding “romance” between Natalie and Michael isn’t the least bit convincing because a) the actors have no chemistry whatsoever and b) their dialogue is never romantic or realistic. Constantly, your eyes will dart towards the clock on your player. Has it really only been an hour? We’ve got how many more minutes to go?

I haven’t hated a movie as much as I hated Tomcats in a while. It’s hard to imagine ANYONE watching the film and having a good time unless they were one of those “bros before hoes” idiots… and even then, they wouldn’t be able to relate to this film’s ending so that’s a no-go for those chowderheads either. I can’t wait to forget I ever saw this abomination. (On VHS, May 9, 2021)

[bnbc]

huge thanx to @arcandoria for this template :3

Well, I let Kou talk about her love life a little:

“Look, I’m not going to talk about all these ‘tino guys and gals, but Trish? Trish was something.

I sometimes think: what if I picked the other way that night? What If I didn’t help a stranger in distress? But you know what? It doesn’t matter, because I was there and I did that, and here we are.

I tried to talk everything out first, but there were three of them, a girl, frozen in panic, and… well… me. Of course, they saw my tats and my ring, but guys when more than one, think not with their brains but with testosterone. No offense. I’m not gonna lie that I won that fight. It actually was very stupid of me to engage, but I didn’t think with my brain either.

The girl was smart enough to run away when they switched on me, so I was the only one who got hurt. Honestly, I thought I wouldn't make it, but then cops appeared. In the middle of the night, in Vista. Fucking a miracle, that saved my life. Later I found out that wasn't a miracle at all, but then I just ran to Lola’s place as fast as I could, beaten and half blinded.

So the next day I and Lola spent, trying to figure out how to get enough money to buy me some half-assed optic, and didn’t really pay attention to some fuss starting outside her house. But the noise was only getting louder, so we went out to see a shiny new limo and some suits, and with them, there was her, yesterday's girl. They came to find me, suddenly, with good intent.

They took me to a clinic, a real one, with clean floors and actual doctors, and let me pick my new eyes myself. I thought it’s over. Honestly, it was already much more than I could have hoped for. I didn't even bother to remember the girl's name, but she found me again. This time with no bodyguards, this stupid corpo kid just went back to the place she was attacked a week before to make sure I’m all right. I was so furious when taking her out of the district, but there was something in her smile, in a way she talked to me, and in the sole fact she cared, so instead of kicking her ass back to Wellsprings, I agreed to meet again, in a safer place.

So, it started. Somehow. Don’t look at me like this! It was her who kissed me first by the way. Oh, you should’ve seen her shock when I immediately started undressing! Though I probably looked even worse when she explained to me I don’t have to sleep with anybody who showed me a bit of affection. I think we were fucking groundbreaking for each other.

But nothing good lasts forever, right? Her parents had a short contract, and they didn't want to prolong it, so they went back to Europe, and Trish came with them of course. I wasn’t allowed to her farewell party, but I found a way to sneak in, so we could say goodbye to each other. And we remained friends, calling each other often no matter how big the ocean was between us. Marcy even got jealous sometimes.

Marcy? It happened in Atlanta.

It was so fun that people decided I went there willingly, to seek a better life, while in reality a couple of Padre’s guys just picked me up in the middle of the night and took me to the bus station. There I got a message from my boss, something like “God forgives you for your sin, child, but don’t show your ass on Night City streets ever again.” He sent me some eddies and a ticket to the East and considering the troubles I got him into, it was really generous.

I didn’t know anyone in Atlanta, so it took me some time to find my place in the city, get some rep, and get to know the right people. But eventually, I got my shit together and even got extra time. Found a nice gym and people to spare with, and there I met Marcia.

I can’t believe I never told you this story. After the gym, I took her sneakers by mistake. You know we all were wearing these limited ‘Jags' that year, well, or copies of them. So I realized that they were not my sneakers only at home, and next time in the gym I tried to find the owner. Marcy found me herself and started by calling me a thief. You already know it’s the shortest way to my heart, right?

Anyway, we’ve got a fight that ended up with a good laugh, and I invited her for a couple of drinks in the club, and once we hit the dance floor it was settled. God, how we danced! Everyone was staring at us, and I’m not kidding!

So, yeah, Marcia.

You know, I lost my head over her, completely. I didn't even care who she was and what she was doing. Being with her wasn’t easy but was so rewarding, she made this whole city feel different to me, almost like home. But I… maybe I still wasn’t really ready for… you know, something bigger. So when I realized we were not just sex and parties, I panicked and broke up with her.

Sometimes life gives you a second chance, but not with people like her. I still don’t understand how Marcia did it, but she somehow erased the data about her from my system: all the messages, all the photos, everything. Only later I found out she wasn't just some girl from a dance band, but a netrunner, going by the name “Cut”. What can I say? No optics can help you if you wanna be blind.

I was lost, again, because without her Atlanta was… limited. I didn’t notice how much she grew into my life, so I lost not only a girlfriend but half of my habitual life. Inertia kept me moving for a couple of months, but when Trish called and offered me a ticket to the Moon, I jumped to the nearest bus heading West.

And here I was back, in the city I was born in, just for one last night before the rocket would take me up, to my new life far above. Just one night, that changed everything. Night City took me back from the moment I tasted its air again, and in the morning, watching the sunrise on the pier in Pacifica I showed Jackie the launching rocket that should’ve taken me and said I lost my only chance to see the stars.

But I saw them after all, yes, and they were cold, cruel, and burned me alive. And then, you know…

No, I’m not going to tell you about you, Goro. What new are you hoping to hear? Some big words like you’re the love of my life? It wouldn't be true! Yes! You are not! My love is big, beautiful, gorgeous… and unjust, ruthless, and unforgiving. Yeah, it’s Night City, not you!

But you are much more than this, Goro, you are my home now. So please, put me fucking back to the floor!”