#The Veils The Wild Son

[perlelune]

Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | ii.

The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking,

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You let your fingers wander over the edge of the car window, a big smile spread across your face. The gentle breeze flutters across your skin and birdsong fills your ears. You bask in the warmth of the sun and the comfortable feeling sitting inside your chest. The morning was spent visiting the university you’ll be joining in the coming fall. You were given a tour of campus and all the historical buildings you’ll get to wander through soon. It filled you with anticipation, getting that brief glimpse into college life. You’ve been in Outer Banks your whole life and while it’s pretty much a paradise, you’re looking forward to experiencing something new and exciting.

Dad insisted on driving you since you don’t have your license yet. The two of you constantly got wrapped in animated chatter on the way to and from campus. While it’s hard for Ward to watch one of his baby birds leave the nest, you appreciate how supportive he’s been overall. After long hours coaxing him with Mom of course. Dad was skeptical at first. He even suggested you take a gap year to mull it over, like Sarah did. But you and Sarah are like the sun and moon. She’d be the sun of course. While your big sister is content running off with the Pogues on wild adventures and setting aside college for now, you can’t picture yourself doing that. You’re a Cameron, but you’re not Sarah Cameron. With her sweet disposition and golden mane, your sister could probably get away with murder by batting her lashes and flashing her signature sunny grin. Things are different for you. Very different. You haven’t forgotten where you come from, much as everyone in the family pretends you’re just as quintessentially Kook as the rest of them. 

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you pivot to Ward.

“Thanks for driving me, dad.”

He beams, his blue gaze drifting away from the road as it lands on you.

“No problem, sweetheart. It’s an amazing school. Great program. Campus looks good too. I know you’ll fit right in.”

A wave of warmth blows through you. “Thanks.”

Sighing, you turn to the epitome of gloom and petulance in the backseat. His arms are folded over his broad chest, his irate blue eyes glued to the window. Your brother’s been cranky all morning. Any trivial inquiry or mundane remark set him off. He barely uttered a word to Dad and graced you with nothing but stubborn silence. It’s blatant he isn’t handling the prospect of your imminent absence well. The silence concerns you a little though. Rafe isn’t one to chew his words or swallow them. So whatever resentment he harbors about your decision to go away for college must run deep. It casts a veil of despondency upon an otherwise wonderful day. 

Of all people, you’d expect your big brother to support you the most. 

His sour-faced demeanor never relents, even when Ward stops the car in front of Tannyhill. Dad sighs as he parks the truck. He’s already lectured Rafe twice on the way back. You note the disappointment etched on his face, the way he squares his shoulders and readies him to march towards his son and lash out at him again. You put your hand on his shoulder and shake your head. The last thing you need is your brother and father at each other’s throat again. It’d be nice to linger in the exhilaration the campus left you with a little longer. 

“It’s fine, dad. Let me talk to him,” your say. 

Dad’s shoulders sag. He yields, heading inside the house and leaving you with Rafe. You lean next to him on the truck, head tilted in concern. 

“Hey…You haven’t said a word since we came back. What did you think?” 

When he fails to reply, his face taut, your frustration swells. “You’re the one who insisted on coming.”

It’s when he snaps, the vein in his forehead pulsing. He swivels to you. 

“I just don’t understand why you have to go to a school so far from us, y’know? A five hour drive, really?”

Your brows crumple to a frown.

“Rafe…”

He cuts you off with a mirthless laugh, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. “And the way you kept gushing about college parties and college boys…” His jaw ticks. “I just don’t like it.” 

Rafe pauses, licking his lips and humming as if lost in the depths of reflection. “I think…”

When he trails off, you urge him to go on, impatience clear in your tone, “What do you think?”

He shrugs before casually stating, “I think you’re gonna land yourself into trouble like the airhead that you are and come crawling back home.”

Your face comes ablaze at his words. You punch his shoulders as tears rush to your eyes.

“You can be such a jerk sometimes.”

You stomp away from him, ire radiating from you in waves. He catches up to you with ease. An apology creeps on his face, his fingers clasping around your arm.

“Wait, princess.” 

He impedes your path, forcing you to halt in your tracks. He puts a hand on his chest, his expression earnest. 

“Look I’m just trying to look out for my little sister here, okay?” A hint of sadness seeps through his tone. “I thought you at least appreciated that.”

Your shoulders slump. 

“I do, Rafe, but…I’ll be gone soon. I need you to accept it.”

“I just think it’s too soon.”

“Rafe, I’ll visit. So often that you guys will get sick of me,” you say, your tone reassuring.

The suggestion does little to assuage him, his eyes rolling in annoyance. 

“You could take a gap year like Dad said. It wouldn’t be a big deal. You’re a Cameron.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You’re keenly aware Rafe will abhor the words bubbling in your throat before they even leave your mouth.

“Well, not exactly...”

He snickers. “It’s those Pogues…they got in your head, didn’t they?”

Your brows furrow. In your brother’s eyes, everything’s always a Pogues’ fault. He’s never been too fond of the fact that you still hang out on that side of the island sometimes. The phrase ‘You’re a Kook now princess, act like it.’ has left his mouth a numberless amount of times in the past seven years whenever he found you drifting a little too far from the family.

“What? It’s got nothing to do with my friends, Rafe,” you retaliate. 

Your gazes clash, a silent war of unwavering wills as your brother looms over you. He works his jaw and unleashes a long exhale. 

“So you’re just gonna leave us? It’s final?”

Reluctance drips from your clipped tone. “Yeah, it’s final.”

“I see.”

He gives a sluggish nod of acknowledgement before rushing inside the house.

You trail behind him, panic fluttering through your chest.

“Rafe…”

His back remains turned. Your stomach sinks, his staunch ignorance driving a blade through your heart. The last thing you want is to be away from Rafe, away from your family. But college matters to you. Why can’t he see that? 

Mom stands by the counter, dumbfounded by Rafe’s furious stride up the stairs. 

“What’s gotten into him?”

A deep sigh ripples through your lips as you meet Mom’s concerned stare. “You know Rafe…”

You turn to her.

“You wanted to talk to me, mom?”

She beams at you. You straighten your spine. 

Mom texted you on the way back. She mentioned Sarah would be here too, causing your suspicions to hit a peak.

Nearly every talk with Mom devolved into a firm reminder to behave in a manner befitting a Cameron, befitting Ward Cameron’s daughter. Your mother’s foot never eased off your neck in the last few years. 

Nothing besides perfection is allowed.

Perfect grades. Perfect smile. Perfect behavior. Not a single blight or misstep shall ruin the blended nuclear family image Mom and Ward strive to project. Dad might be more subtle about it, but you know his expectations of you align with Mom’s. 

Whenever Sarah slackens, the burden passes on to you. You’re supposed to set an example for Willa and Wheezie to follow.

Mom glances between you and Sarah, the latter already sitting on a stool by the counter. It’s clear your sister would rather be anywhere but here. Likely hanging out with John B or some other fun thing. “To both of you, actually.”

You and Sarah exchange a look, one you have countless times before. The quiet acceptance that you’re both about to be lectured by Alice Cameron.

Resigned, you plop down in the stool next to Sarah’s. 

Excitement oozes off Mom’s voice as she starts speaking. 

“You remember when I told you about the Calliopean Society Debutante Ball?”

Sarah’s lips twitch as she tamps down a grin. “You mean the one you’ve been massively subtle about?”

It’s true. For months, Mom has dropped heavy hints regarding her desire to see both you and Sarah become debs. Even amongst Kooks, being picked to represent the institution is seen as the highest honor. Only a handful of young women from prestigious families in North Carolina are picked, ones whose families have made significant contributions to the county. 

A series of events antecedes the ball, including but not limited to Midsummers, a variety of tea parties and galas. The whole thing is archaic at best and cringeworthy at worst. 

You’ve tried to get Mom to relinquish the idea of you joining it. But she’s been relentless. The symbol of status it epitomizes isn’t something she’ll let go off so easily. 

Not when she’s tried to make everyone on Figure Eight forget where she comes from. Mom would do anything to bury any hint of her past as a Pogue.

You bump Sarah’s elbow, berating her with a frown, “Sarah.”

She chuckles and stands a bit straighter. 

Mom sighs at her antics, her forehead creasing.

“Girls. I need you to focus.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Sorry, Alice,” Sarah echoes.

Mom marks a dramatic pause, causing dread to tickle your insides. If she’s this excited, it’s almost a given that you won’t be.

Indeed, her next words confirm your inkling.

“Well, I managed to slip in both of your names in the short list while attending the Midsummer’s committee,” she says.

You wince. “Mom…why would you do that?”

Her elation doesn’t waver. “They’ve never had a young woman like you in their ranks and they’re trying to be more open-minded this year.”

“Mom, this is old-fashioned and gross. The girls are presented like broodmares to be sold.”

Her brows knit. “That is not what this is. Being chosen is an honor.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and you purse your lips. Mom squints at you, folding her arms.

“I want you two to participate in all the events leading up to it.”

Sarah blinks in disbelief. “Come again?”

“Isn’t Midsummer enough?” you refute. 

It’s bad enough you’re not given much of a choice in attending the stuffy event. The fact that Mom wants you and Sarah to take it one step further is wild.

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place, sweetie?” she laments, looking straight at you. “It’ll be an opportunity to bond with young ladies your age.”

This doesn’t stir you. You doubt you have much in common with the kind of girls picked out as debutantes. This was probably the same crowd you’ve exerted great effort in avoiding at the Kook school. 

“Kie will be there too, but only if you go,” you specify.

This catches your interest, mostly because of how absurd that statement is. You’re pretty sure Kie would likely chop off an arm before agreeing to be a debutante, even if you did it too.

Sarah’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“Kie? No way, you’re making this up.”

A mischievous smile unfurls on Mom’s lips.

“Well, it wasn’t easy to get her to agree but her father threatened to stop paying for her unlimited data plan.”

Oh so it’s like that? Kie’s parents resorted to blackmail. Makes sense. You just can’t picture your rebellious friend agreeing to this without an incentive. You surmise threatening to cut off her only means of constant communication with the Pogues might sway her mind a bit. 

“Yeah that…tracks.”

“Can you do it, please?”

Your shoulders sag. “Mom, I really wished you stopped trying to impress those women. You do realize they’ll always look at us the same way, no matter what we do.”

Mom’s face dims at your words. An instant wave of guilt fills you. You should have kept your mouth shut. She tosses her hands in the air.

“Fine. I never ask you girls for anything, but okay.” She starts frantically cleaning the kitchen, loud clangs echoing as she grabs random pots and pans from the oven and cabinets. “When I was your age…” You suppress an eye roll. Here we go. You and Sarah trade a knowing glance. Anytime she starts a sentence that way, you know you’re doomed. “I’d have killed to get an opportunity like this...” 

Mom continues rambling about how privileged and spoiled you and Sarah are, how she was never given those kinds of chances. She mentions her rough upbringing and hammers in the sacrifices she made to raise you. She reminds Sarah all the times she showed up for her and that she loves her the same way a mother would. You spot the exact moment your sister breaks. By the end, the guilt both Sarah and you feel is palpable, its weight clogging the air. 

“Ugh…Fine, we’ll do it,” Sarah relents.

Mom’s sour face immediately shifts to a triumphant expression.

As the evening rolls around, the sky shifting to duskier hues, an unexpected presence slips through your bedroom door. 

You sit up, your pink headphones tumbling down to your neck. 

“Rafe!” you exclaim, eyes widening in astonishment.

A lopsided smirk unfolds on his face at your reaction. He slowly closes the door and strolls to your bed. The mattress bounces when Rafe tosses himself on it. He drags his fingers along your sheets for a while, the golden family ring on his finger glimmering dully. You wait anxiously with your legs crossed.

After what seems an eternity, blue eyes swing upward as he sighs.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier,” he blurts out. He licks his lips and holds your gaze, his fingers wandering to your knee. Rafe’s deep voice lowers, oozing sadness. “I just know everyone in this house will drive me crazy if you’re not there.”

“There’s always Sarah.”

That draws a burst of laughter from him. He shakes his head.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

Your face breaks out in a grin. Throughout the years, it’s always staggered you how different the dynamic between you and Rafe is different from his relationship with Sarah. Everything’s a competition for Rafe when it comes to Sarah, starting with the ceaseless quest for Dad’s approval. Meanwhile, since that day at the wedding, Rafe has never failed to be there for you. He’s been the best big brother, attentive and kind. While on the exterior he could be a jackass to everyone, including your Pogue friends, he’s never been that way with you. You could talk to him about your problems, however trivial they may be. He’s the one who made you feel most welcome at Tannyhill, impugning every presumption you harbored about what having Rafe Cameron as your brother would be like. And now you can’t picture your life without Rafe in it. 

“It’ll be fine. We’ll text. I’ll call you every week.”

“Won’t be the same.”

You take a deep breath.

“For the record, I’ll miss you too. A lot.”

“You better.”

You chuckle.

“Hey, I never gave you your birthday gift…” Rafe says, fishing for something in his back pocket. A sly smirk tugs his lips. “I wanted to do something a little different this year.” You’re filled with shock when he produces a little bag full of white powder. 

You blink rapidly as he holds it up. You’ve seen him take some at parties, sell it to his guests. Once or twice, you got curious and asked to try. He vehemently turned you down, insisting he’s not about to let his little sister get fucked up…despite spending the whole night getting fucked up himself.

“Really?”

Rafe’s smirk broadens. “Really.”

Excitement flushes through you. You can’t deny you’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.

“You like…never let me try before.”

He laughs, shifting closer to you. 

“Because I was trying to keep my sweet little sister pure. Can you blame me, princess?” he says, fingertips tracing your knee. 

You swallow thickly, your face heating when he places the little pouch in your hand.

“I actually have no idea how to…”

“I’ll show you, of course. It’s my job as your big brother to teach you everything.” His voice dips to a velvety bass as your eyes lock. “So let me pop your cherry, princess.”

When you stare at him, slack-jawed, Rafe snorts. 

“It’s just a phrase, relax.”

Amusement dances in his blue eyes at your clueless expression. He grabs a paper from his pocket and begins rolling it. 

“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He gently swipes the pouch and takes your hand, opening your palm to pour just a tiny amount of the white powder in the middle. “Let’s just keep this a secret between us, okay?” His eyes twinkle. “I don’t want Alice to think I’m… corrupting you or something.”

[beautifulfaaces]

David Sullivan

Facts

April 29, 1977

American actor

Filmography

Daniel [The Wilds: 2020-2022]

Mac [The Big Bend: 2021]

Matthew [The Son: 2019]

Chris [Sharp Objects: 2018]

Matt [The Veil: 2016]

Oscar [Karma Police: 2008]

Abe [Primer: 2004]

Appearance

blonde

blue eyes

1.78m

Roleplay

playable: young adult, adult

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Four

So it is time for the last part.... I still cannot believe that I managed to write something and look forward to post more

This chapter is very explicit - for my taste at least.

Song for the chapter - Alkaline by Sleeptoken

English is not my first language

_____________

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

shameless smut

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

1.695 words

____________

The encounter with Feyd leaves you so shaken that, come morning, you avoid seeing anyone. It feels childish and less dignified, your mind circling around the memories of the evening like vultures. It's as if he doesn't even need to touch you to make you forget years of training and let your emotions get the best of you. And he visibly enjoys it, your pain and humiliation making it even more luxurious for him. Frustrated and unable to concentrate, you put Irulan's gift away and lie down in a lounge chair on the balcony overlooking the small garden. The sun's rays are softened by the huge trees and reflected in the pond below. Its crystal clear waters appear like a mirror - calm and serene, a painful contrast to your mental state. You close your eyes and try to ground yourself in the moment, repeating the mantra „I am alive in stillness“, but to no avail. The fever that has been ignited within you consumes your mind and body. Your hands seem to develop a life of their own and, as if guided by a puppet master, they find their way to the small band of your tunic. The warm air touches your skin and you close your eyes, letting your fingers slide over your breasts, caressing the nipples that instantly stiffen under your touch. Your hand continues to slide down as your eyes flutter shut. It is almost as if you are picking up where he left off. The heat concentrates under your fingers, and letting your intuition guide you, you move your fingers in circles, dipping in and out of your cunt. The orgasm is so intense that for a second you forget where you are. You can't stop yourself from moaning his name and you feel like coming up for air.

Two days later it is time to say goodbye. Your father kisses you on the forehead and your mother seems to think the same as you - "I will not fear". Letting go of Paul's embrace seems almost impossible, but when all is said and done, you make your way to the Baron's ship. His gigantic form floats in front of you, while your betrothed follows at the same level as you.

Even if he doesn't look at you, you can't help but feel his presence. Each step seems to be part of a well-orchestrated choreography and reminds you of a wild animal, ready to reveal its murderous nature at any moment. At the last glance, you turn your head to see your mothers signing "Good luck" to you with a small flick of her wrist. The connection to what was familiar is tethered and you are not sure of the tumultuous feeling your gut that the now empty space in your soul is son tobe filled with a new home. The change is almost tangible, as if when you pay close enough attention, it glow like a dark halo around you.

Once on the ship, you are left to your own devices. You can call upon servants at any time, but they seem to anticipate your wishes before you know them. Food and drink are brought to you, as well as an army of new clothes. Your favourite is the black dress with heavy beading around the bodice, covering your torso like a shield. Paired with a translucent black veil and a small gold chain around your neck, connected to your torso, it feels appropriate to take your first steps on the planet you will call home.

Your unease is heightened when, upon your arrival, neither Feyd nor the Baron are to be seen. A tall, slender man who introduces himself as Piter de Vries escorts you to the Feeds chambers. You immediately recognise the characteristic traces of spice in his eyes, the only thing that seems to have any colour in this world. Shielded from the harsh black sun, you reach Na Baron's quarters, only to find an army of monochrome grey, white and black surroundings. The palace seems to be the essence of the Harkonnens, with hard, clear lines, yet graceful and spacious.

"If you need anything, there are always two servants at the door," says Piter. The servants resemble guards, but you decide not to share this observation. Piter's eyes linger on the glass box with the fir tree. "Do you want to have a closer look?" You ask. "Only if you don't mind. I have never seen anything like it". "It was a parting gift from my father. On Caladan, fir trees grow as tall as these walls, more of them than you can count. You may take it with you if you promise to return it in one piece tomorrow." Pieter seems to understand your bid for connection and bows his head „I am indebted to you, Na Baroness“ Its the first time some one dresses you with your new title and you barely suppress a shiver. And as if the title was a spell, Feyd Rautha appears in the doorway. Piter bows and leaves at once, holding the precious piece of your home in his hands. He moves so siletly, that you begin to wonder if the planet is not only devoid of color but also of sound. Blood seems to rush to your cheeks as you meet Feyd's gaze. "Is everything to your satisfaction?" His voice echoes. "Yes, thank you, Baron." His arms are behind his back and before you realise why, you see droplets of thick, almost black liquid collecting on the floor behind him. Slowly he unclasps his hands, drops to one knee and holds out a slim silver knife to you, covered in more of the same substance. "Is… is it blood?" You don't know why you question it. "Yes, it is. Please accept this as a token of my devotion to you. It is…" his blue eyes find yours, "the proof that my body will be yours alone. No other being shall touch it."

"Your pets…" you feel almost dizzy as the understanding dawns on you.

"No more pets," he says, still on his knee.

You slowly take the knife and place it on the white table beside you. Some of the blood gets on your wrist. He grabs it and licks it off. While a part of your brain screams that you should be afraid, your body seems to find the spark he struck on Kaitain again. His tongue flicks across the sensitive skin as he rises and begins to undo the buttons on your shoulders, the need to touch him overwhelming you and you reach out with your palm to his cheek. He leans into your touch with more tenderness than you ever expected. But as soon as your dress falls to the floor, pure hunger returns to his eyes. He presses into you and you feel as if your insides have melted on the spot. You try to feel his length through the fabric of his tunic. „So needy, Na Baroness?“ He purrs, enjoying the dominance he has over you. With a swimming motion, he pushes you onto the bed, holding your arms above your head. His tongue descends to your collarbone, moving deeper as he takes one breast in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh. You moan under him, already feeling washed away from any security of a shore into a whirl of need. His tongue continues to drive you mad as he bites you, the pain searing and glorious at the same time. Your hand reaches for him again, but he holds your wrists down as his tongue continues to run between your legs. He looks up at you, and it is the last thing to break the tiny shreds of your resolve. But he doesn't let you go, his tongue still swirling between your folds, drinking in your sweetness. Suddenly your hands are connected and a split second later you realise why: he uses his left hand, with slender, graceful fingers, to push your thighs further apart. You feel wanton and still needy, and as one of his finders curls inside you, you moan his name. "Feyd, Feyd, Feyd." Your own voice seems alien to you, high-pitched and desperate.

"My Na Baroness seems to want more," he smiles devilishly and inserts two more fingers at once. You whimper and throw your head back into the pillows. It feels like the stars are exploding behind you and feel the second orgasm coming as he stops and pulls away from you. You can barely hold back a frustrated squeal. Your body feels hot, the only antidote to this madness his skin on yours. You try to concentrate on his form, seeing him remove his tonic first, then his trousers, leaving nothing to the imagination. His body is pure perfection, not a mark on his porcelain skin, he kneels on the bed again and moves towards you. The tip of his shaft is already pink and covered with pearls of pre-cum. It touches your clit lightly as it settles between your legs. "You'll have to learn to control yourself. So responsive to my touch, so desperate…" he hisses as the black of his pupils replaces the blue, making them almost invisible. His tip touches your entrance and then disappears completely inside you. You feel torn apart and put together at the same time, pain and pleasure mixed into something new, a delicious cocktail of discovery that leaves you drunk and breathless. You want to close your eyes, but he says "Look at me" you hear him murmur and you are lost again. With every movement of his hips, your whole being seems to refragment and reassemble like a kaleidoscope. Your walls convulse around him, his name like a sacred chant. Your nails dig into his back and he lets himself fall, speeding up and thrusting into you with even more abandon. You feel his use of you, your name on his lips. For a few seconds you are speechless, your shallow breaths filling the room. He holds your hips as he lies down behind you, still inside you to the hilt. „Welcome to being my wife, dear Na Baroness“

[doumadono]

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Hawks, fem!reader, viking themes, seer!Mirko, blood

Summary: the Earl sought counsel from the seer, seeking guidance after Shoto's proposition to send him and Touya on a mission to the north. Concerned about the rumors surrounding the mission, you resolved to extract information directly from Shoto

Word count: circa 6.5k

A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER

ACT III - SEEKING ANSWERS

The cold winds of late autumn swept through the rugged hills as earl Endeavor rode toward the dwelling of the renowned seer, Mirko. His thoughts were consumed by the intriguing proposition his youngest son, Shoto, had presented regarding a land rich in goods. The idea of sending his eldest son, Touya, to oversee this promising territory crossed the earl's mind, a strategic move that could secure his settlement's prosperity.

Upon reaching Mirko's abode, the atmosphere seemed to change. The air grew thick with an otherworldly aura, and the eerie silence made the settlement's seer even more intimidating. Mirko was a young woman with a fearsome reputation, her presence alone sending shivers down the spines of those who sought her guidance. Mirko was not beautiful in the conventional sense; her appearance held an unsettling allure. Long, wild locks framed her face, and her eyes, intense and piercing, seemed to hold secrets of both past and future. Tribal markings adorned her skin, marking her as a conduit to the spiritual realm.

Earl Endeavor, a man hardened by battles and strategic decisions, felt a twinge of uncertainty as he approached the seer.

Mirko's dwelling, draped in dark fabrics and adorned with symbols, exuded an aura of mysticism. She welcomed him with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "My lord," she spoke, her voice a haunting melody, "what brings you to seek the guidance of the unseen?"

Endeavor hesitated momentarily before speaking. "I come seeking counsel, Mirko. My youngest son has spoken of a land rich in goods. I contemplate sending my eldest, Dabi, to oversee it. What do you foresee in the tapestry of fate?"

Mirko, seated in the midst of her mystical domain, gestured for Endeavor to sit.

Endeavor unfolded his plan, explaining the potential prosperity and influence this land could bring. "I intend to send Dabi to ensure our dominance over this territory. What do your visions reveal?"

The air thickened with an unspoken power, and her haunting hums echoed through the room. The earl observed, a sense of unease settling over him as he witnessed the seer's transformation.

Her eyes closed, Mirko began to sway rhythmically, her body guided by an unseen force. The haunting melody of her hums intensified, creating an otherworldly atmosphere within the sacred space.

Endeavor found himself being on the precipice of something beyond his understanding.

Her voice carried a spectral melody, and the room seemed to pulse with an unseen heartbeat. Mirko's eyes, still closed, painted visions of impending doom with her words.

"In darkness veiled, the land awaits, Echoes of sorrow, at destiny's gates. A wolf, fierce, prowls in the night, A dance with death, a sinister delight."

The seer's hands moved gracefully through the air, as if conducting an unseen symphony of fate. Her words painted vivid images of a land consumed by shadows and the imminent clash between two primal forces.

"An eagle, majestic and bold, Descends from heights, its destiny foretold. A battle fierce, 'neath the moonlit gleam, In shadows cast, where spirits teem."

The eagle and wolf, symbols of opposing forces, danced in the tapestry of Mirko's vision. The room echoed with the weight of her words, each rhyme a forewarning etched in the annals of fate.

"Blood on feathers, and darkness entwined, A struggle unfolds, destinies aligned. In the land cursed, where choices are made, The echo of battle, in shadows will fade."

"What does it mean?!" The earl growled loudly. "Tell me, now!"

As Mirko's body moved, a voice emerged from her lips, yet it seemed detached, as if another entity spoke through her. The words, laden with an eerie resonance, foretold a grim fate awaiting those who ventured into the land Shoto had spoken of. "The path you tread is bathed in blood, earl Endeavor. Death dances upon the horizon, and shadows darker than the night itself await those who dare to grasp the threads of destiny."

Endeavor felt a chill coursing through him. Mirko's words seemed like a macabre prophecy, a dire warning wrapped in a melody that resonated with the spirits of the unseen.

"Blood will stain the soil, and death will be the echo that reverberates through the ages. The spirits speak of a land cursed by the choices of the living," Mirko continued, her voice carrying the weight of the ethereal.

Endeavor, despite his stoic exterior, couldn't shake the disquiet settling in his chest. Mirko, in her trance, spoke as if guided by forces beyond mortal comprehension. The grim portrait she painted clashed with the earl's visions of conquest and prosperity.

As Mirko's humming reached a haunting crescendo, she opened her eyes, the once vacant gaze now piercing through the fabric of fate. The trance lifted, leaving the seer standing before Endeavor, a conduit between the living and the unseen.

"The spirits have spoken, my lord. The path ahead is shrouded in darkness, and the choices you make will echo through the very essence of time," Mirko uttered, her words lingering in the air like an unspoken decree from the spirits themselves.

Endeavor leaned forward, his expression stern. "Speak plainly, Mirko."

Mirko's voice carried a weight beyond the present. "The flames may consume not only the intended but all who stand too close. Choices shape destinies," the woman replied mysteriously.

Endeavor emerged from Mirko's dimly lit hut, the weight of her prophecy hanging in the air like a shroud of uncertainty. The pale light of the moon bathed the settlement nearby in an eerie glow as the earl took a moment to collect his thoughts.

Silence enveloped him, broken only by the distant sounds of the night. Endeavor closed his eyes, reflecting on the words Mirko had spoken. Despite the foreboding visions, a resolute determination burned within him. He knew the risks, but the allure of wealth and power beckoned him forward.

Turning to Mirko, he offered a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for your insights, Mirko. May the spirits guide us through the shadows." As a token of appreciation, Endeavor gently took Mirko's palm in his hands and pressed a grateful kiss upon it.

The seer's eyes, still veiled in the mystery of her visions, met his with a knowing gaze.

Mounting his horse, Endeavor set forth, determined to confront the future that awaited him. The night held its breath as Endeavor rode back to the settlement, a lone figure against the canvas of the darkened landscape. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but the ember of ambition burned brightly within him, lighting the path toward the destiny he sought.

Dabi sat in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, his presence almost like a shadow against the flickering candlelight. The rhythmic sound of a whetstone against his sword filled the air, a comforting repetition that matched the beat of his troubled thoughts.

The raucous atmosphere of the tavern buzzed around him, but the glances thrown his way were not ones of admiration or desire. The courtesans, usually attentive to potential patrons, seemed to cast him disgusted looks. Even though he was the heir to the earldom, the one who would sit on the throne after his father's eventual passing, they all were disgusted by him. His status brought him no favors in this realm of longing and fleeting connections.

Dabi's eyes occasionally flickered across the room, catching those disdainful glares. He couldn't deny the sharp pang in his chest — a mix of frustration and a longing for a connection he had been denied for so long. He had grown accustomed to rejection, so much so that he had stopped actively seeking companionship. Still, the yearning for the warmth and softness of a woman's touch lingered, a desire he had learned to bury deep within.

As he took a swig of ale, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the bitterness that had settled in his heart. Dabi continued to polish his sword, the repetitive motion a way to distract himself from the disapproving looks that haunted him. In the midst of the crowded tavern, he remained a solitary figure, surrounded by people but untouched by the warmth of human connection.

The loud thud echoed through the quiet walls of the Great Hall, jolting you awake from your shallow slumber. Concern etched across your face as you rushed out of the room you shared with Hilda, following the source of the commotion. The dimly lit corridor led you to Dabi's chamber, where you found him struggling to regain his balance, a victim of the ale's intoxicating effects.

"Easy there," you said, your voice soft but laced with genuine concern. "Need a hand?"

Dabi looked up at you, his turquoise eyes momentarily clouded with confusion before recognition set in. He grunted in agreement, accepting your offered help. Together, you steadied him, and he leaned against the wall for support. The flickering light from the fireplace cast a warm glow on both of you, creating an unexpected intimacy in that late-night encounter.

"Thanks," he mumbled, his usual aloofness momentarily giving way to a hint of vulnerability. The moment was fleeting, but it lingered in the air as you helped him back into his chamber.

You assisted Touya onto his bed. The warmth of the hearth seemed to soften the edges of the usually stern and enigmatic man. However, as you turned to leave, his hand shot out, gently grasping your wrist. When you met his eyes, you were met with a vulnerability that seemed to pierce through his usual façade.

"Stay," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.

You hesitated. The rules that governed your roles in this Viking settlement were clear, and getting too close to someone of higher standing could invite trouble. Yet, the sadness in his eyes and the unspoken plea tugged at your empathy.

"I… I shouldn't," you started, but he tightened his grip ever so slightly.

"Please," he whispered, his tone a mixture of loneliness and longing.

In that moment, you found it difficult to resist. Against your better judgment, you stayed, settling on a bed beside him. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

Touya's eyes never left yours.

The room was shrouded in shadows, and the warmth of the fire seemed to cocoon you and Touya in a fragile bubble of shared vulnerability.

With a hesitant yet genuine smile, Touya broke the silence. "Tell me about your homeland," he requested, his eyes showing a glimmer of curiosity.

His request hung in the air like a delicate thread, and you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh before responding. "You want to hear about the place you tore me away from? Like a flower ripped out of the life-giving soil?" Your words held a weight, a mix of resentment and sorrow.

Touya met your gaze, his expression carrying the burden of understanding the pain he had caused. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low and sincere.

In the flickering glow of the fire, you began to weave a tale of your homeland. Your words painted a vivid picture of quaint cottages with thatched roofs, their walls weathered by the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. The narrow cobblestone streets echoed with the laughter of children playing and the rhythmic sounds of craftsmen honing their skills. "Near the shore, where the cliffs stood tall and proud, we built a small chapel—a haven of solace and prayer. Its stone walls echoed with hymns, and the air was filled with the scent of incense," you recounted, your voice carrying the nostalgia of a place left behind.

As you spoke, Touya's piercing eyes remained fixed on you, absorbing every detail of this distant world he never truly understood. The contrast between the harsh Viking settlements and the idyllic Christian village seemed stark.

"The coastline, painted in hues of blue and gray, witnessed the ebb and flow of tides. Fishing boats set sail at dawn, their sails billowing in the morning breeze, while the cliffs provided a vantage point for the villagers to gaze upon the vast horizon," you continued.

Touya's features softened as he envisioned the serene landscape you described, a world far removed from the tumultuous life he had known. Touya's eyes closed, a faint smile gracing his lips as he absorbed the essence of your words. "You must have been missing the place ever since," he pointed out, the words carrying a gentle understanding of the yearning that comes with reminiscing about a home left behind.

You nodded quietly, the flames of a fireplace reflecting in your eyes. "Indeed. The memories are like whispers of a distant melody, a reminder of a life that once was. I can almost feel the salt-laden wind against my face, hear the distant hymns in the chapel. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I close my eyes and pretend I'm back there, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home."

Touya's smile faded, replaced by a somber expression, as the echoes of your quiet sobbing reached his ears. He opened his eyes, and there he found you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze fixated on the dancing flames in the fireplace.

His heart constricted with an unexpected ache. A flicker of empathy illuminated his usually guarded gaze.

"But it is all gone. All gone. You and your people took everything from me. And now I'm here, locked in a cage of a shadow of something once called life. Apparently, this was God's plan for me," your voice carried a weight of bitterness and sorrow.

His gaze softened as he watched you, the firelight casting shadows on your tear-streaked face. "Gods have their own way of weaving destinies, entangling lives in threads that stretch across time and space. Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a reason our paths crossed in this tumultuous journey."

You gave Touya a searching look, the flickering firelight dancing in your eyes, and asked, "What do you mean? Why would the God bring me here, to this… place of captivity?"

Touya looked at you with a glint of intensity in his eyes. "Our gods are different, you know. Freya, Odin, they're not like your Christian God. They're not confined to a single doctrine. They're free, just like the wind that sweeps through these icy lands. And I believe, with all my heart, that the Allfather sent me to your village for a reason, and that reason was you."

You couldn't help but snort at his words. "You're drunk, Touya. Those gods of yours aren't guiding anything. I'm here because of the whims of men, not gods."

Touya locked eyes with you, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken emotions. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer until there was barely any space between you. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "You're beautiful."

His breath sent shivers down your spine, and before you could fully comprehend his words, his lips boldly found yours. Shock coursed through you at the unexpected kiss, your first taste of such intimacy. The heavy scent of alcohol lingered on his tongue, but amidst the surprise, you felt a strange warmth. You hesitated at first, unsure of how to respond, but the gravity of the moment pulled you in.

As the kiss continued, you found yourself brushing your lips against his, a hesitant exploration of uncharted territory. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, bearing witness to a connection that transcended the roles you were assigned in this harsh world.

The following day, Endeavor summoned Dabi to his side, his face stern and determined. The air in the room felt heavy with an unspoken gravity as Dabi approached his father. "Touya," Endeavor began, his voice cutting through the silence, "I have a mission for you."

Dabi's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and apprehension. "What kind of mission?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on Endeavor.

Endeavor's eyes bore into his son's, revealing a mix of authority and expectation. "You, Shoto, and a selected group of warriors, including Hawks, will be sent to the northern part of Sweden. There's a land there with potential, rich in resources. It's time to expand our influence, and you're crucial to this endeavor."

Dabi nodded, acknowledging the weight of the task ahead. The mention of Shoto and Hawks in the same mission stirred a sense of unease, but he kept his emotions in check. "Understood," he replied, his tone resolute.

Endeavor continued to lay out the details of the mission, his plans unfolding as a complex web of politics, power, and strategy.

Little did Dabi know that this journey would lead to unforeseen challenges, testing not only his strength as a warrior but also the bonds that held his family together.

Hilda approached you with a furrowed brow, a concerned expression etched across her features. The flickering light of the torches in the chamber cast shadows that danced upon the walls as she spoke. "Y/N, I need to talk to you," she said in a hushed tone.

You looked up, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "What is it, Hilda?" you asked, your eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and apprehension.

She took a moment before responding, choosing her words carefully. "I think I just need a listening ear. Touya is going on another mission. But what worries me more is that Shoto, his younger brother, is being sent alongside him."

You furrowed your brows, recognizing the tension between the two brothers. "Isn't that a cause for concern? They don't exactly get along, do they?"

Hilda nodded solemnly. "No, they don't. The earl's decision to send them together is raising suspicions. It's a risky move, and I fear it might not bode well for the stability of the mission."

Concern etched across your face as you contemplated the potential consequences of such a decision. The dynamics between the two brothers were already strained, and sending them on a mission together seemed like a recipe for conflict. Hilda's worry mirrored your own, and the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily on both your minds.

You finished brushing your hair, the strands flowing smoothly through the comb. The flickering candlelight in your chamber created a soft ambiance, but your thoughts were far from the present moment. Hilda's words echoed in your mind, and the worry for Touya settled like a heavy stone in your chest.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to Hilda, who was quietly arranging some furs in a corner of the room. "Hilda," you began hesitantly, "is there really nothing we can do for Touya? I can't shake off this feeling of unease."

Hilda paused, her gaze meeting yours. The lines on her face spoke of years of experience and wisdom. "Y/N, sometimes the currents of fate are beyond our control. All we can do is navigate the waters as best we can. Right now, the best course is to stay vigilant and hope for the best."

You nodded, understanding the weight of her words. The unpredictable nature of the situation left you feeling powerless, and it frustrated you. "But what if something happens to him? What if Shoto…"

Hilda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We can't predict the future, dear. All we can do is be prepared for whatever comes our way. Keep an eye on the situation, and if there's an opportunity to help, we'll take it. For now, focus on your tasks and be vigilant."

You sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in her advice.

Hilda observed you with a shrewd gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. As you finished your nightly routine and settled onto the furs, she couldn't help but voice the question that lingered in her mind. "Y/N," the woman began, her voice gentle yet probing, "forgive me if I overstep, but your interactions with Touya have been minimal. Why this sudden concern for him?"

You hesitated for a moment, considering your words carefully. The truth was, your initial reservations about Dabi were not baseless, but something about Touya's vulnerability had stirred a different emotion within you. You looked at Hilda, deciding to share a part of your thoughts. "I may not like him, but I can't shake off the feeling that there's more to Touya than what meets the eye. The way he spoke about his past, about losing everything, it resonated with me. It's not pity, Hilda, but a sense of understanding, maybe empathy. And now, knowing he's going on this dangerous mission alongside Shoto, it's hard to ignore the worry."

Hilda's smirk widened as she spoke, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "Oh, my dear, I can see your cheeks flushing when you speak about him so fondly. You're having a crush, am I right?"

Hilda's smirk didn't go unnoticed, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. Her teasing words struck a nerve, and a flicker of irritation danced in your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hilda. It's just concern for a fellow human being," you retorted, your tone defensive.

Hilda chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Concern, my dear, often wears a different face. There's no shame in admitting you care for him. After all, this world is full of unexpected twists, isn't it?"

You pursed your lips, attempting to maintain composure. Deep down, you knew there was a kernel of truth in Hilda's words. The concern for Touya had indeed taken a different form, and your heart acknowledged a connection that transcended mere worry. Yet, admitting it to yourself felt like navigating uncharted waters.

Ignoring Hilda's knowing gaze, you turned away, feigning disinterest. But within, a storm of conflicting emotions raged, and you couldn't deny the impact Touya had made on your guarded heart.

As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Tossing and turning in your simple bed, a peculiar yet potentially useful idea began to form in your mind. The notion of extracting information from Shoto about his plans took root, and you found yourself contemplating the details of how to execute this risky but potentially advantageous scheme.

The flickering light of the dim chamber barely illuminated your face as you hatched a plan to subtly and strategically approach Shoto. The urgency of the situation and the looming mission compelled you to consider taking matters into your own hands, even if it meant navigating the treacherous waters of deceit. With a determined resolve, you prepared yourself mentally for the intricate dance of conversation that lay ahead.

In your best dress, adorned with the finest that could be salvaged among the thralls, you made your way to the tavern after learning from Natsuo that Shoto was seen going out with a warrior named Hawks. As you stepped out, the cool breeze of the late afternoon caressed your face, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.

Arriving at the tavern, you could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking mugs seeping through the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, you pushed it open, revealing the warm, dimly lit interior. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the low hum of conversations. You scanned the room, finally spotting Shoto and Hawks in a corner, engaged in a conversation.

Shoto's two-colored hair caught the wavering light as he raised his tankard in a toast. "To power and the thrill of the hunt," he declared with a smirk, taking a long swig.

Hawks leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes.

The duo seemed engrossed in conversation, their laughter mingling with the low hum of the tavern. Female thralls, drawn by their presence, attempted to engage in conversation, but the exchanges were marked by a darkness that hinted at their underlying intentions. Shoto and Hawks were having fun in the company of two thralls with exotic features that hinted at a southern origin. The air was charged with an unmistakable tension as the men engaged in flirtatious banter.

One of the thralls, feigning coyness, asked, "What brings you to our humble company tonight?"

Shoto, with a sly grin, leaned in to the thrall seated by his side, and said, "Oh, just the usual – seeking a bit of warmth in this frigid place. Perhaps you ladies could provide some, hmmm?" He mused, running his hand up and down the girl's shoulder.

The other thrall, playing along, responded, "Warmth, you say? Well, you might need to work hard to earn that from us."

Shoto frowned a little, yet his voice stayed low and smooth, "You seem to be unaware of my position, woman. I am the heir to earl Endeavor, and I demand that you address me with the respect befitting my status," he forcefully grabbed the other woman by her shoulder, causing her to tumble off her chair and land on the floor next to him. "So, I suggest you watch your manners, for I am the best you can find in this establishment. Consider your words carefully before opening that foolish mouth of yours next time."

Hawks nodded in agreement, "Indeed, the gentleman here is right. Shoto, don't scare the lady."

The conversations continued in this bold and wry manner, each word dripping with innuendo as the men skillfully navigated the delicate dance of desire. The atmosphere in the tavern buzzed with anticipation as the thralls played their part in the seductive exchange, the one that previously ended on the floor now sat quietly, letting Hawks wrap his strong arms around her shoulders as his hand was playing with her breasts from time to time.

Summoning your courage, you approached them, the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. As you drew nearer, you caught Shoto's eye, and a subtle smirk crept onto his face. Hawks, on the other hand, eyed you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The atmosphere shifted as you prepared to enter a world of alliances and secrets, uncertain of what the outcome might be.

"Well, well, what brings you to this den of sin all alone? Where's your precious Touya? Couldn't keep up with his demands?" the youngest Endeavorson taunted, his tone laced with amusement.

You brushed off his wry remark. "I think it's time for us to bury the hatchet. Our relationship didn't start on the best note, and I believe we can find a way to coexist peacefully."

He looked at you, seemingly surprised by your suggestion. Shoto considered your words, and after a moment, he offered you a seat with them.

Throughout the interaction, Hawks observed the scene. You gave him a brief smile, trying to maintain a cool demeanor in the company of the two men.

Shoto turned to you with an air of faux politeness, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I believe we can have a civilized conversation, don't you?" His eyes darted towards the thrall who had been seated beside him, and with a dismissive gesture, he uttered, "You, leave us."

The thrall shot you a cold glance before complying with Shoto's request and vacating the space.

Now alone, Shoto leaned back in his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "There, much better. Now, let's chat, shall we?"

You took a deep breath before speaking, "I must admit, despite the fear you instill within me, there's a certain charisma about you. It's hard not to notice."

Shoto's grin widened, appreciating the acknowledgment. "Well, I appreciate your honesty. And by the way, I quite like your accent. It adds a certain charm." His compliment was laced with a hint of mischief as he reached his hand out to briefly rub your shoulder.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Shoto's hand landed on your shoulder. Suppressing a wince, you decided to play along with his casual demeanor. When he asked about the real reason for your visit, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well, I just wanted to get to know you a little better, my lord."

Shoto raised an eyebrow, considering your words. "Interesting choice of words. Here, have some mead." He poured some into a wooden mug and handed it to you, a sly smile playing on his lips.

You accepted, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

Hawks, with a twinkle in his golden eyes, couldn't help but comment, "Quite a beauty you have here, Shoto. Earl Endeavor's thralls are indeed a treasure."

Shoto, taking a sip of his mead, glanced at you and replied wryly, "All Christian women have this softness within them. I just happen to enjoy breaking it." His words were delivered with a certain darkness that sent a chill down your spine.

Trying to maintain composure, you played along, responding with a forced smile, as you looked at Shoto's companion, "Well, thank you for the compliment, sir."

As Shoto continued to drink, you couldn't shake off the unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.

As more mugs of mead were emptied by the men and the atmosphere in the tavern grew warmer, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been gnawing at your thoughts. Leaning in, you addressed Shoto, "Forgive me for intruding, but I overheard that you and Touya are going on a mission. Is it true?"

Shoto's eyes, a mix of icy determination and something unreadable, met yours. He took a moment, swirling the remnants of his mead in his mug before responding, "Yes, a mission to the north. Father believes it's a land rich in resources, and he wants us to secure it for the settlement."

Hawks, who had been listening attentively, chimed in, "Aye, a mission of great importance. The north can be treacherous, though. Many dangers await those who venture into the unknown."

You nodded, though a lingering concern for Touya flickered in your eyes. "What kind of dangers are you talking about? Is it just the harsh conditions of the north, or is there something else we should be aware of?"

Shoto's stoic expression betrayed little, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of the mission and what it might mean for both brothers.

Hawks took a sip from his mead, his golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and wariness. "The north is a wild place, full of untamed landscapes and creatures. Wolves, bears, and more roam freely. Not to mention, the weather can be brutal, especially this time of year."

Shoto's gaze never wavered as he observed your reaction to Hawks' nonchalant explanation.

You sensed there might be more to the story, but both men remained guarded in their responses.

Shoto's sudden shift in demeanor caught you off guard, his hand landing on your knee with an unexpected boldness. He began to rub your knee casually, his gaze steady as he threw a question your way. "Let's change the topic, my dear. The ruggedness of our upcoming mission might be a bit too much for a delicate female mind like yours to comprehend," he remarked, his fingers tracing small circles on your knee, playing with the hems of your dress. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in, his tone low and almost conspiratorial. "Tell me, has my older brother had his way with you yet?"

You felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance at his audacity, but you tried to maintain composure. "That's none of your business, Shoto," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And the mission—"

"Oh, don't play coy," he interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'm genuinely curious. After all, I'd hate for you to miss out on experiencing the full range of pleasures in our little settlement."

The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself navigating the conversation with a mix of caution and defiance, unsure of where Shoto was leading with his intrusive inquiries.

You met Shoto's audacious question with a bold response. "No, my lord, I haven't been with anyone, ever," you asserted, trying to maintain a sense of control in the conversation.

Hawks chimed in with a cryptic comment, "Well, isn't that a rare treasure in these parts. A thrall with untouched cunny, how intriguing."

You shot a wary glance at Hawks, uncertain about the implications of his words.

Shoto, however, seemed more amused than surprised, his smirk widening as if he had expected such a revelation. "You're missing out on experiences, thrall. I could show you what it's like. I doubt my older brother knows how to please a woman. Look at him, covered in scars, a truly disgusting sight. No normal woman would willingly lie with such a damaged man."

You felt Shoto's hand sliding beneath the fabric of your dress, making your breath catch in your throat. His audacious suggestion hung in the air, and the atmosphere became charged with tension.

You pulled away, a mix of surprise and discomfort evident on your face. "Maybe… Nut I didn't have enough mead yet, my lord," you asserted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation.

Shoto, undeterred, leaned in with a sly grin. "Afraid of a little adventure? I promise you, it'll be an experience you won't forget," he whispered, his mismatched eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.

As Shoto poured another mug of mead for you, you discreetly took small sips, ensuring that the majority of the liquid found its way into Hawks' cup while the two men were engrossed in conversation. The effects of the mead were beginning to show on Shoto, but you remained clear-headed.

The conversation in the tavern continued, filled with laughter and raucous chatter. You observed Shoto's growing inebriation and wondered if this was the opportune moment to extract information about the mission.

As Shoto, in a visibly inebriated state, decided to make his way back to the Great Hall, Hawks was more than willing to accompany him. However, seizing the opportunity to gather more information, you stepped forward and offered to walk Shoto back on his behalf. Hawks, busy with the two other thralls he managed to lure, readily agreed.

With Shoto leaning on you for support, you began the journey back to the Great Hall. The night air was crisp, and the sound of distant revelry echoed through the settlement. As you walked, you subtly steered the conversation toward the mission, aiming to extract any valuable details Shoto might unwittingly reveal in his inebriated state. As Shoto stumbled beside you, you ventured to ask, "Shoto, why do you harbor such resentment toward Touya? It seems like there's a lot of tension between you two."

Shoto's response was punctuated by occasional hiccups, and he spoke with a slurred cadence, "Touya… he's always been the favorite. Father sees him as the rightful heir, even after he attempted on killing him… When he was a baby… I'm just… the spare. I've had to fight for every scrap of approval, every shred of acknowledgment. It's fucking infuriating."

His words were tinged with a mix of bitterness and vulnerability, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of their strained relationship.

Shoto's alcohol-laden breath hung in the night air as he delved deeper into the caverns of his animosity. His words spilled out, laced with venom and a fervent desire for retribution. "You see, Y/N… Touya has always been the golden child… Father dotes on him, oblivious to the struggles I faced. I fought tooth and nail, but in his eyes, I'm still the disappointment." His voice resonated with a toxic blend of envy and resentment. "I wish he'd disappear, fade away… It would be so much easier without him overshadowing me at every turn… Fucking Touya. Father might finally see my worth."

As he spoke, you couldn't help but sense the profound wounds that fueled Shoto's disdain for his older brother, wondering if there was any way to mend the frayed bonds between them.

With a heavy sigh, you opened the huge, wooden door to the Great Hall. In the dimly lit hallway, you guided Shoto with careful steps, avoiding any unnecessary noise. As you reached his chamber, the weight of your question hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "My lord… Do you plan to harm your older brother during this mission?"

He paused, his drunken demeanor momentarily overshadowed by a serious glint in his eyes. "Hurt him? No. But if fate has other plans for him, who am I to intervene?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if Shoto's words held any truth or if they were merely intoxicated ramblings. As you opened the door and let go of his waist, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that there was more beneath the surface of his seemingly casual response. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, adding an enigmatic air to the entire exchange.

The sudden force of Shoto's grip on your waist surprised you, and before you could react, his lips collided with yours in a messy, drunken kiss. The taste of mead lingered on his breath, making the encounter less pleasant than you might have imagined. You winced, feeling a mix of discomfort and confusion as the moment unfolded.

Shoto's hand slipped beneath your dress and moved up your leg, resting between your thighs. As he pulled away, his eyes were glazed, and he chuckled under his breath, resting his back against the wooden wall. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," he slurred, releasing his hold on you and stumbling into his chamber. "I'll make sure you're mine, not his." The door closed behind him, leaving you standing in the hallway, processing the unexpected exchange with your palm pressed against your mouth.

As you turned around, your heart sank, its rhythm momentarily disrupted - there, in the corridor, stood Touya. His expression held a mixture of surprise and shock as he observed you, and an unspoken tension hung in the air.

Touya's harsh words hung in the air, stinging like a bitter truth. "I can't believe you're like that, Y/N, letting my brother touch you this way. I thought you were different, not like every other thrall, but I guess I was wrong."

A lump formed in your throat as you desperately wanted to explain, to make him understand, but before you could utter a single word, Touya turned on his heel and left, the resounding crash of the door slamming shut echoing through the dimly lit corridor.

Now, you found yourself standing alone, the weight of his accusations settling in. The corridor seemed colder, lonelier in the aftermath of his anger. You replayed the scene in your mind, the hurt etched on Touya's face, the disappointment in his voice. It was a bitter cocktail of emotions that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

The truth was, you never intended to betray or hurt Touya. You considered chasing after him, explaining that it wasn't as it seemed, that your intentions were never to betray him. But the finality of that slamming door weighed heavily on your shoulders.

A lone tear traced the contours of your cheek, a delicate testament to the waning emotions within. It was as if you had relinquished something profoundly vital, a precious fragment of your life slipping away, leaving behind a poignant void.

heathen wolves: @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog @haseki-huricihan @violet-forgetmenot

[nevertheless-moving]

STORMLIGHT ARCHIVE AU MASTERLIST

List will be updated with links if/when AUs develop For my Star Wars AU Masterlist: Please See Here As always, people are more than welcome to play with any of these ideas! just please link back to me so I can see! Seriously if you want to write stuff in any form with ideas from any of these aus I will love you forever! 1 to 20: Words of Radiance AUS 21 to 30: Non Words of Radiance AUs (note: these might also be WOR AUs) 31 to 40: Post Winds and Truth Wild Speculation (that may or may not also be a WOR AU)

1 to 20 Words of Radiance AUS

[EDIT, Previous #1 Now #28]

2. High oath Hesina willshaper aus. This is actually many many AUs because the "Mom??" Reveal is great in all contexts. Concept, WOK Era Outline, Brief Fanfic

3. Renarin asks Kaladin for help with radiant stuff during WOR. Secret training. Everyone thinks they're fucking. Chapter 1 and Outline/Meta

4. Elhokar drunk orders kaladin to bedchambers, begs for help keeping away nighmare creatures. Kaladin nearly kills him before scary spren realization, then goes into serious radiant mode when syl gets ambiguously concerned. Everyone thinks they're fucking.[Note: I might be too easily entertained by this trope]. Kaladin is deeply pained by this but also has  people saving thing and really doesnt want to reveal the radiant thing to the whole camp. Earlier third oath. Eventual fucking optional, see above au, except with a bit more pity than vibeing for option a.

5. Crack. AUs 3, 4, and 9 at same time so people just think Kaladin is the Kholin Rhysadium. Bridge 4 offers government overthrow if he's being pressured. kaladin assures them that's not it. Now people keep trying to high five him. Kaladin with head in hands while Moash snarks over his shoulder "you know when i said fuck the lighteyed i didn't -" Kaladin definitely asexual in this one.

6. Hesina and lirin come to shattered planes, shocked/thrilled/emotional to find kaladin. Bridge 4 desperately trying to get approval of [bugs bunny meme our] parents. Lirin reluctantly adopting renarin who wants to learn about healing now for some reason. Blackthorn surgeon mutual loathing/ jealousy son swap hilarity. Lirin is having a time. 

7. Kaladin wasn’t on guard duty the night of szeth arrival. Still warned by syl about assassin, but has to dead sprint while glowing to get across camp fast enough, soft reveal to anyone outside. Only barely figures out wall running on the way over to crash in window just in time. Szeth freaks out and runs away after very short, mildly anticlimatic interaction. And now Kaladin has to deal with Everyone.

8. Kaladin further along in powers during initial szeth fight. Battle of champions degrading to slap fight when they run out of stormlight and get stuck on the plains. Concept/ Ask, Funny Severed Leg

9. Manufactured rumors about adolin/ kaladin. Effective political mudslinging for most of WOR. Shallan plays up things about her relationship with Jasnah to be a more appealing beard. [Previous #9 Is Now #33]

10. Kaladin has a meltdown in prison, breaks out of his cell. Just a little bit more stormlight...Shouts of alarm. Aaah glowing Assassin in white! Kaladin panics more. Adolin handles the situation like a champ. Kaladin maybe briefly kidnaps him.

11. Nale goes after kaladin instead of lift. Ohhh so many thoughts for parallels.

12. Syl immediately dive bombs pattern when kaladin and shallan meet. Really early radiant reveal but just to each other. Kaladin does not trust her but doesn't want to reveal his own status so just watches her super intensely...since she's also constantly watching him too, yes, this gets misinterpreted. See au 3 through 5 but more discreet. Veil is the one draggng him from the barracks for late night 'training sessions' [these are actually training sessions but veil flirts outrageously with kaladin when anyones in earshot. So.] that distracts things a bit.

13. Adolin, suspicious after the Assassin in White fight, was secretly following kaladin at night. Sees him step off a ledge into a chasm (I just reread the section and was like?! You glanced over your shoulder once?!). Adolin spends the whole night stewing in regret, anger, grief, guilt (I was there. I could have yelled. Should have done something. I didn't realize...I didn't know. I didn't know anything). Next morning Kaladin is on guard duty and adolin flips his shit, suddenly remembering that the whole reason he was suspicious of this guy was because he inexplicably survived a several hundred foot drop.

14. Kaladin barely manages to hold it together just long enough to out himself as radiant right after prison. Part One, Part two

15. Kaladin does NOT hold it together after getting arrested.

16. Kaladin swears third oath early. Next few weeks involve a lot of hiding glowing bridgeman squire antics and gaslighting people about kaladin's intermittently light eyes.

17. In the initial confrontation with Szeth, Kaladin pushes a bit harder about the radiants being back, Szeth spirals a bit more, crashing realization that he isn't truthless...

17a.  Earlier radiant reveal: szeth surrenders the honor blade and then immediately collapses into the ground. Kaladin drags him and the blade upstairs. Has to reveal himself now because 1) kaladin what the fuck how and 2) the assassin is mumbling about radiants. 17b ANGST: szeth surrenders the honor blade and immediately kills himself with kaladin's weapons. Kaladin takes honorblade, collapses on way back because it's draining his stormlight, maybe messing with sylbond. When he wakes up hes injured, surrounded by lighteyes and a handful of his men...handles it badly because Very Specific Shardblade Winning Trauma. Crazy two nickles moment. Downside: cries a lot in front of people he'd rather not have cried in front of. Upside: dalinar believes him about amaram now. Public windrunner powers, but obscured Radiant reveal because glowing assassin sword is very clearly granting magic powers. Weird interactions of honorblade bond and nahel bond. Lot of interesting fallout from Dalinar having his very own Mystical Assassin now.

18. Kaladin sends Syl to spy on the 'horneater princess', one sided radiant discovery. When she sends pattern to spy on bridgeboy, he somehow notices. Shallan does not handle it well. 

19. Something something people put together all the impossible stuff Kaladin's done with all the impossible stuff the Blackthorn did as a youth, combined with one of bridge four drunkenly talking about their best theories for the Captains 'mysterious backstory,' combined with Dalinar literally calling Kaladin son and seemingly overnight the warcamps are convinced that Kaladin is Dalinar's bastard child.

20. (COLLABORATIVE with @gnecrognomicon) Instead of being thrown in prison, Elhokar orders Kaladin be strung up for the Stormfather's judgement. Part One, Part Two

21 to 30 Non Words of Radiance AUs

22. Way of kings au where the beggars of alethkar are rounded up for the war effort. Jezrian, of course, ends up on bridge four.

23. Kaladin time travel au to way of kings only the transition is a bit like a spren going through the cognitive to material realm transfer. Not all there. Heartwarming bridge four bonding slightly to the left - sure the mans crazy but he just looks so...disappointed when we dont help with the injured, and he shares his food like an idiot. How does someone seven foot tall and stronger than a chull make axehound pup eyes. We're not following him though. He's not our lead - holy heralds balls is he glowing??  Bit more of a symbol than a friend, but a symbol that you take turns holding at night because he has such bad nightmares and also hes clingy. 

24. COLLABORATIVE / stone soup with @sweetteaanddragons : adolin and kaladin time travel to way of kings. Kaldin brooding about how to escape AND save all his men AND the world until adolin barges in and buys everyone. 

'Thank the almighty,' Kaladin thought with almost painful relief, watching Adolin argue haughtily with a growing swarm of Thadeus's lighteyes. 'I never thought I'd actually appreciate having a rich friend.' He would, of course, rather die than admit this. "I had it handled," he growled, when the two finally managed to speak inconspicuously, each weaving amongst a thousand confused former bridgeman, speaking quietly with several, until they were able to meet in the middle with reasonable subtlety, all things considered. "That's great, Kal," Adolin said cheerfully, clearly not buying a word. "Say, how would you feel about doing some, you know..." He waved a hand, earning a raised eyebrow from Kaladin. "Glowy stuff for my Father," his voice dropped from a subtle hush to a slightly conspicuous whisper. "So he doesn't disinherit me. I did not have permission for this."  Both pairs of eyes flicked to the side, the Blackthorn's towering figure approaching like a Stormwall. "Uh. Sooner rather than later perhaps."

26. Oathbringer/row au. Adolin doesn’t kill sadeus. Mostly just excuse to dunk on Sadeus for trading one (1) shardblade for mythical warrior who can make his own shardblade. oh look more of your former slaves are glowing now. and THEY make shardblades too!

27. Elhokar and Kaladin time travel from Elhokar's death in oathbringer to way of kings. Part one, Part Two

27B. Elhokar solo time travels back from Oathbringer death to Way of Kings

28. Moash tells kaladin about beef with elokhar early. This derails the entire plot of the series. [EDIT, This au was previously #1, before I abruptly realized it was WOK, Not WOR]

31 to 40 Post Winds and Truth Wild Speculation

31. Szeth kaladin pity fuck time travel au words of radiance. Bridge four roasts the shit out of kaladin. Kaladin is doing everything in his power to avoid implying "knowledge of future" which makes the timeline of their relationship deeply confusing.

32. Szeth kaladin time travel au post book 5, they get their memories back in the high storm right before canon first meeting. Szeth sort of stumbles in, halfheartedly attempting a confused assassination.

33. [EDIT: Previously AU Number 9] Kaladin time travel back to wor, book 5 gone wrong. Deeply terrifying from outsider pov. Captain of the Kholin guard, bridgefour leader, is suddenly Full fourth oath windrunner talking about how humans are the voidbringers, they actually need to support the parshendi in bringing one last controlled desolation, and then kill the heralds and also god. Don't worry not our god. Different god. Our god is already dead. If someone else travels back with him then it swings around to a lil bit funny.

34. Post winds and truth, pre sunlit man, crossover with the twilight of mistborn era 2 (i think the cosmere timeline could make sense but if not, oh well). Kaladin gets a boon from his god(s). Requests to learn more about mental health. Has to go to another planet to do so, because mental health research on Roshar sucks. Scadrial's god seems (relatively) friendly and their planet has developed antidepressants AND wellness seminars. Shenanigans with Very Old Wax and the gang.

35. Jasnah, Dalinar, and Renarin (surviving Kholin Radiants) travel from End of World to right after Gavilar's death. Crack. Outline

All of the above (plus other fandoms if you keep scrolling back) will be tagged with 'my au' The above, plus my canon stormlight and other cosmere meta, technically canon compliant fanfic drabbles, or other things that i've written but don't fit in an au will be tagged 'nevertheless cosmere'

[lovecite]

Your Choice

Kyojuro Rengoku x y/n (fem reader)

It was the choice for any slayer if they wanted keep their blood line going. They dedicated their life to the cause of demon slaying and thus never had chances to settle and marry. Ever focusing on training and serving for the greater good.

But the more families sent their beloved son's to risk their lives the more they realized that their could be a possibility to the end of family lines. An out cry from the families of slain slayers almost made an end to new recruits. Why send our sons to death? You are not only killing them but you are killing our family!

So upon the idea of many of the higher ups it came down to this. Have the slayers and their family come up with a choice of an arranged marriage.

------This is an idea I thought about for demon slayer. Since it's set in a time of where most families required sons to continue their family bloodline by having children. And of course Zenitsu in the episode when he was trying to marry someone because he was going to "die" lol . So, written kinda choppy and fast so please excuse that! --This one was written by me--

theme song that helped my creative juices flow :

*****Princess Jellyfish - Opening - Just Between Us-******

Other songs that helped me get with it~~

Nonsense- Sabrina Carpenter

One & Only- Oliver Tree

Super Shy- NewJeans

Seven- Jung Kook

Your choice

*****🔥*****

You were sold by your family. They were promised if no slayer claimed you they would still be paid monthly. If a slayer claimed you ,she would be welcomed into the family of what ever slayer and your family again would be taken care of. It was a win win but you were the only loser here. And here your story starts of when you meet Kyojuro Rengoku

"I understand that my father has chosen a wife for me, ma'am. " A voice so loud declared . His very voice shook your core . How could someone be so loud? You were seated behind a white cream colored screen seated like a proper women would. Your head was bowed with a white veil draped over your head hiding your features.

You were dressed in the finest kimono's known to your family. A beautiful green emerald with a hint of yellow flowers. Your gaze focused on the grooves of the mat below you trying to focus your breathing because the drumming from your heart drowned out your hearing. This was it. You were going to finally be married and make your family finally proud.. But of course what that was your only choice.

"Y-yes your father and mother actually meet this way as well. One of the most beautiful of stories. It no wonder why your father fell so hard when she pass-" " Ah I see then most of beautiful women have been chosen for this." The boisterous voice interrupted the older women with a hint of an undertone of being bothered it seemed . Your heart felt uncomfortable in your own chest as you waited for this conversation to end. Every time you heard him it grew tighter and tighter.

You had been rejected once before by a Hashira. You could still remember his face being so pale and those blue eyes being so empty. He had wondered in wanting to be married. As soon as he had seen you he walked away with out another word a red blush faint on his cheeks as he walked ever so fast straight out.

Now it seemed all the other women called you a curse. Some making snarky comments to the head mistress of this compound. "She should be taken out back and sold." " I can't believe a pillar rejected her."

The word of a hashira rejecting her spread like wild fire to the other women. And so you heard the slayers had been told the rumors as well. Why? A man with white hair came to you as well. A scar from ear and over his nose. His eyes is what you remembered the most. So wide open as he searched your gaze. Stating he wanted to see why a stoic man would run off from such a beautiful women. He wanted some gossip to throw in the other man’s face but you had none to give. Which of course made the white haired man angry that he had traveled here and was leaving with no juicy gossip.

But it seemed not all had heeded the warning. Because here you sat on the other side of the white cream paper thin wall. Your to be husband on the other side. You dare not look up for fear of more bad luck.

"oh lord Rengoku just as your father!" the older women cackled at a joke the man had stated. Of course this was nothing new. This type of arrangement. It started when their were low numbers of demon slayers. Most wanting to be sure their blood line was not stopped due to being called for this noble deed. “I am honored my father has chosen me for this task. I must state that I do have a mission to go tomorrow. Will this take long?” He asked. A giggled escaped the women’s mouth. “Lord Rengoku , as you know upon signing the agreement you must stay 1 week with your wife. To be sure a heir is produced.” The older women countered. The man hummed . “My apologizes of course.” He responded. “And we have mapped out the girls cycle to be sure th-”

Your face felt hot within seconds at the women’s response. Of course they had to go into every detail but that did not mean you could not be embarrassed that your monthly’s details would be shared to your husband.

“Oh I understand of course what you are saying. It must be this week.” He stated his tone dialing down slightly in a whisper .

You carefully brought your head up slowly. You did not want to ring a single bell that was attached to the veil. Was it wrong for a women to know what her to be husband to look like? Through the veil you could see past the thin fabric and to the creamy white paper thin wall. A single candle on the other side lite and brought a shadow from the the two figures on the other side of this thin papered wall. The outline of the women who took care of us women looked like a big blob while a much thinner one sat in front of them.

You couldn't help but take in the shadows edges. His hair on top of his head seemed like the designs of a child's drawing of the sun. And he sat so proper up straight like a pin needle. Then the shadows moved. You quickly looked back down to the grooves of the mat below your legs. "I feel as if my heart will pounce out of my chest." blurted your so to be husband. The older women laughed before she pulled the sliding door to the side. Finally.

Would he too run off and leave you here?

You dare not bring your eyes upward until the older women ordered you too. So You sat there eyes focused on the floor. "oh yes. One of the most beautiful women we have here sir. A great pick from you father." the women claimed. You felt a tight grasp on your shoulder as you were pulled upwards from the floor. Your legs felt as If you had stepped on millions of needles due to the length of time you were seated. You let out a gasp as you were forced upward. Nearly falling back down a much more gentler grasp around your waist caught you.

"Do be careful how you step." He whispered . You hadn’t thought he was that close to you but when he spoke you could feel the warmth of his breathe on your cheek. You wanted to see him! Your eyes were covered by the damn veil and you struggled to take off the thin scrap of fabric. You could also feel him trying to swiftly take off the veil as well but the fabrics many layers made it hard.

“My faceless wife what a way to meet you.” He joked. "Oh here . Let me help!” the older women countered. The tug made your head go back awkwardly as she yanked it. You closed your eyes quickly as the fabric glided along your face.

“Father choose well. I approve !” Kyojuro remarked as if he were simply talking about a fabric item.

You stayed still in his grasp around your waist. He pulled you close to his chest your hands resting lightly over him. You could feel his every breathe below your palm. And his heart beating so fast. “I am happy once again we have made a great pairing within the Rengoku family!” The older women claimed as she clasped her hands together.

"I will write my father and give great thanks!” he stated as his firm hand around your waist tighten slightly. Your gaze hyper focused on his nice shaved chin. Your eyes shifted to his shoulders and could make out peaks of yellow blonde and red hair. "Please bring your gaze up to mine so that I may finally greet you." His tone soften when addressing you. He gripped your chin carefully with his thumb and pointer finger. He adjusted your head moving your head slightly back. Your gaze slowly taking in his face starting from his chin and then soon upwards.

You felt your breathing had stopped. His striking orange gaze piercing right through you. His bushy brows so pointed. His hair like the sun. His eyes closed as his head tilted slightly to the right and a smile appeared slowly across his face. "I am Kyojuro of the Rengoku family. My father has chosen well." He added to to his greeting. His eyes slowly opened very wide as they flickered like flames to take in your face. "Your kimono is very beautiful. If that is your favorite color I will buy more for you." He mumbled as his gaze fell down to your outfit. You still could not respond to him.

His expressions never wavering as he spoke. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you. " Do not fear me." He instructed as he allowed for you to catch your footing. His arm slipping back from around your waist and to his side. "This ceremony is very fast. Whatever you feel we should not do tell me." of course. If the slayer had accepted the girl it was as if the wedding had happened and they of course had to consummate the marriage. Thus falling into trying to have the child for the continued blood line this .

You however were told that you did not have a choice. So of course you took a step forward placing your hands over his chest. Never breaking out eye contact you slowly went on your tip toes and placed your lips over his. The flame Hashira seemed to pause. His eye brows almost hiding up into his hair line. His heart under your palms beating faster. You sat yourself back on your heels. "Your name?" he asked softly. "I am...."

Should I do another one 😍😍 or should I continue this story 🙃

[fandomxpreferences]

You Can't Kill Me

Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!reader

TW:mentions of mental and physical abuse, mentions of violence, angst, I think thats it

Summary: Ward may be able to intimidate Rafe, but those tactics don't work on you.

Word Count:1.4k

A/N: I don't love how this turned out but im posting it anyway bc somebody needs to stand up for our boy

Ward Cameron is everything you hate wrapped up in a neat bow. He's greedy, selfish, and a manipulative liar. Worst of all, he plays the role of a doting husband and father in public.

He's a textbook abuser, all the way down to the carefully constructed smokescreen that gives the allusion of a perfect all-American family. It's all schmoozing and practiced laughter around anyone that's not his namesake, but the sharpened teeth come out behind closed doors. 

You've been dating Rafe for two years now, much to Ward's displeasure. Your boyfriend has skirted around the topic, insisting that his dad is just hard on him. 

However, after an entire lifetime of growing up around people like Ward, you see right through him. He's never shown his true colors to you; even going as far as calling you his daughter to maintain the elaborate ruse. 

Under the surface, he knows he can't con you and that makes you a threat. You're not easily manipulated and gaslit like the Cameron siblings, and he hates that you're a wild card in a neatly organized deck. 

He can play house all he wants, but you're painfully aware of the ugly truth. He hates you, and though Rafe has never told you as such, you know he's been whispering in your boyfriend's ear trying to sabotage the relationship since he first introduced you as his girlfriend. 

He's destroyed every single one of his son's relationships, and he despises the fact you can't be scared off.

When you first met Rafe, he was spiraling. He was knee-deep in a coke addiction and had rage issues that rivaled Hulk. He was lost and confused, completely shrouded in his father's shadow. The two of you started as friends while he worked on himself, and after a few months, he was in a better place. 

He's always credited you with saving him, though you insist that's not the case. 

"You swooped in and saved me, Y/N." Rafe whispers as he holds you under the sheets. You shake your head and glance up at him. 

"No, Rafe. I just gave you the strength to save yourself. You did all the hard work and you deserve the credit."

Though your boyfriend has made progress, he still doesn't stand up to his father the way he should. He takes the verbal lashings and occasional physical assaults with his head down, and Ward takes that as still having some form of control over his son. 

You're watching from behind a door as Ward lays into Rafe, screaming about how he fucked over the family and needs to 'man up'. It's been about ten minutes, and you've remained silent as your boyfriend shrinks into himself. 

However, you perk up when you hear your name mentioned and it occurs to you just how deranged the elder Cameron is. You know he's done some shady shit; Rafe has told you how dangerous he is and tried to protect you.

"This all started when Y/N came around. Maybe I need to kill your little pogue fling so you can start to see clearly again."

Rafe may be afraid to speak up but you're not, and Ward is about to find out just how sharp your tongue really is. 

"Many have tried, all have failed. I've gone toe to toe with men that make you look like a trembling chihuahua, Ward. What makes you think you'll get me before I get you?"

Both men look startled at your sudden presence as you emerge from the shadows with a wicked glint in your eye. 

"Your first mistake is assuming you're more dangerous than me." 

Rafe's eyes widen at the thinly veiled threat, and suddenly Ward's wrath is laser-focused on you. 

"What did you say?" 

You roll your eyes and take a step closer, never breaking eye contact. 

"You heard me." 

He turns back to Rafe now, his features softening as he prepares to play the victim. 

"Rafe, you have to see how bad she is for you. For us! You've changed, son."

You can see the turmoil in your boyfriend's blue eyes as they dart between you and his father, and block his body with yours. 

"You mean he's not as easy to manipulate and control. Rafe's been doing your dirty work for years. You turned him into your sick twisted little puppet and I cut the strings."

Ward's eyes darken and you smile as you realize you struck a sore nerve. Ward may be used to confrontation, but he's not used to someone else holding the reigns. He bites because he has to; it's the only way he can control the narrative he wrote. 

However, you bite because it's fun. Arguments have always been a pastime for you, something you've perfected over the years. Kooks may have Pogues beat in every other walk of life but when it comes to fighting, whether physical or otherwise, you'll always come out on top. 

Rafe's hand squeezes your waist and Ward practically snarls as the mask comes off. 

"Listen here you little bitch-"

He's cut off when you take another stride forward, now chest to chest with the man. 

"No, you listen you psychopathic piece of shit. Your reign of terror is over. You lost. Kook rules don't apply to me, and so help me God if you so much as raise a finger to me I will pump you full of lead and claim self-defense." 

He falters for a moment, genuinely taken aback at your brazen threat, before scoffing. 

"You think they'll believe a pogue?"

You can tell he thinks he's got you, but his face drops when you smile. 

"No, but they'll believe Rafe."

Ward's eyes narrow and he's so close to you now that you can feel his breath fanning across your face in short pants. 

"I'm your boyfriend's father."

He doesn't even sound like he believes himself and you recognize fear in his eyes as he tries to appear unphased. 

"Why do you think you're still breathing?"

You pause to allow him time to snark back, and when he doesn't you continue. 

"You may have everyone else fooled, but I see you for what you are. You blame everything on Rafe, but the reality is you're the one that fucked up. Everything Rafe has done was because of you."

You feel Rafe pull you back slightly and relax into his arms. 

"It's okay, Y/N."

You shake your head, eyes still burning holes into Ward. 

"No, he needs to hear this. Did Rafe make some bad choices? Yes. Did those choices bring heat to your family? Sure. But all he wanted was your love and approval. The difference between you two is that he did what he did because he thought it was the right thing. Everything you've done is for another dollar in your pocket, and you're okay with throwing your kids to the wolves if it means you come out ahead. You're disgusting." 

Ward lunges for you, and you don't even flinch before Rafe pushes you behind him. 

"Don't. She's right. My whole life I've been begging for your attention and acceptance. I'm done."

He doesn't give his father a chance to respond, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out the front door. He doesn't stop until he's buckled you into his Rover and he drives away from the sound of screaming and shattering glass. 

"I'm proud of you." 

His eyes leave the road for a split second to glance at the side of your face and you look over. 

"Thank you. For saying you're proud of me and also for defending me."

Your hand reaches out to grab his and you squeeze gently. 

"Of course. You know if you need me I'll come running."

He gives you a grateful smile and you hesitate for a second before continuing. 

"Also, if you ever want me to beat his ass just say the word."

You say it so casually and Rafe's laugh echoes off the windows. 

"I'm serious! Put us in a boxing ring and I'll show him how Pogues do things. Closed fist, no gloves or anything."

He shakes his head at your antics and brings your knuckles to his mouth to give them a soft kiss.

"Who knew my girl was so scary?" He teases and you feign offense. 

"Everyone except you apparently. You think of yourself as big bag Rafe Cameron, the toughest guy in OBX. Everybody else knows I'm the one they should really be afraid of." 

You can't even finish your sentence without laughing and your heart soars when he joins you.

"I love you." 

"I love you too, you big softie."

[forthechubbies]

Love Thy Husband

Kingpin's Son!San x Innocent yet spicy! Chubby! Wife

You arrived adorned in luxurious fabric bought with their bloody wealth. You are not just a gift, but a treasure...a plaything acquired for the pleasure of the rightful heir to the Choi dynasty.

Choi San.

⚠️ Language, forced marriage, San is a good boy with bad habits, Yn conceals her face with a veil....and San is feral for your modest dressing style. No peep show for San 🙃⚠️

The purpose of a wedding photograph is to immortalize the beauty of that specific moment. Yet, when you stumble upon your own image, it triggers memories of your past yet your in laws so proudly display pictures all over their home. She was abducted by the man she now calls father to settle a overdue debt owed by her birth father.

You shed a tear, remembering your grim past.

As their son finally arrived at the mansion, he discovered his hidden surprise - a gift waiting for him. Despite the mysterious ivory veil that concealed her face, he agreed to accept her without hesitation. Little did he know, the veil was a humble plea from your father, who wished to shield his princess from the dark and dangerous world of the mafia.

The day unfolded before your eyes, obscured by the delicate ivory lace that draped over your face. Gripping the bouquet of baby's breath tightly, your heart pounded as the groom tenderly lifted the veil, allowing it to hover just above your trembling lips.

San's name escaped his lips in a hushed tone, barely audible against the backdrop of your rouge painted lips. Instead of forcefully pulling you towards him, he leaned in, delicately pressing his lips against yours. In the midst of this tender moment, he unintentionally crushed the bouquet.

The kiss, though seemingly pleasant, bore a resemblance to the innocence of toddlers exchanging affectionate pecks. He delicately pressed his lips against your flushed ones, refraining from any further advances. Despite his family now viewing you as his possession, San even restrained himself from touching you.

From that moment on, the vibrant world outside became a distant memory, The majority of your existence now revolves around the presence of your husband, consuming your every waking moment.. Who frankly you couldn't wrap your head around! One moment he’s stern and hostile the next, he’s a sweetheart gentlemen.

Speaking up the devil, There he is, Your phone icon alarmed you of husband’s incoming call. You rolled your eyes before answering. “Hello, San-"

"Omo..you sound like your about to die or worse." San complained under his breath. " You realize I'm your husband and not the grim reaper, yeah?" You could hear his blood simmering.

"Oh, you really had me fooled," you sarcastically remarked. Suddenly, you gasped, gripping your phone tightly, only to berate yourself for your own foolishness right away.

San’s brow involuntarily twitched, disturbed by the sass that escaped your cheeky lips. "What was that?... My dearest," he uttered with a tone that never ceases to send chills down your spine.

You carefully approached him, using his nickname in a soothing tone, "San..nie?" hoping to ease his anger. "My dear husband,” You’re cheeks reddening in embarrassment for actually fearing your husband’s wrath…some would say it should the other way around.

The phone went quiet briefly, only for your man to let out a chuckle that stirs up your fury, playing with you effortlessly. "Impressive, Sannie?.." He arches his eyebrows, making you squeal as he exhales his rugged accent over the line. "Sweetheart, I had no idea you could be this adorable." He taunts you in your mother language.

You are completely oblivious to the depths of your husband's affection for you. His love for you knows no bounds and shines brightly in every aspect of your life.

Especially your body....of what you allow him to see.

You feel safer when concealed from the sun, the man's wild gaze fixated on your delicate ankles and soft hands, pretending to be strong against his threats. You resist him so feebly, he longs to tear off your veil, granting you the illusion of courage to sass him, walk away mid-conversation, and disregard his presence as if he's not a menacing figure linked to the Atz, with his father just a phone call away from silencing your weak father permanently.

"I adore you, Mrs. Choi!!!" Wooyoung's voice echoed through the air, a mix of excitement and mischief. He sprinted towards San, seeking refuge behind him. "That asshole busted my lip," he growled, feeling the sting of his bloody lower lip. But despite the pain, he couldn't help but flash a mischievous smile at his friend, casually draping his arm over his shoulder. "So, how's the lovely wife doing?"

San sound shocked. “ How did you know I was-“

Wooyoung simply grins and nods. "You're adorable when you talk to her," he says with a mischievous smile, teasing his embarrassed friend.

The next thing you know you hear Wooyoung wince in pain, you assumed San hit him like usual followed by "Arghhh!!" Wooyoung biting him as a response.

"Don't fucking bite me, ya little bastard!" San's accent made you flinch, your Korean is far from perfect, and most of the time his words go unnoticed or you simply stare at his lips out of sheer cluelessness. But hey, it's not your fault. You were forcefully taken away from your family and thrown into this marriage with just weeks later.

"Ya! Who are you cursing at, cunt!?!” Wooyoung yelled in response, only to be met with a menacing voice hurling threats at them..

San's eyes gleamed with mischief as he glanced at the towering goon. "Hey, Woo, is this your buddy?" he asked, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Sorry, Honey, gotta go," he said, his voice dripping with allure as he abruptly ended the call. The unmistakable sound of San ruthlessly overpowering the goon echoed in the background.

Overwhelmed by the harsh truth, you found yourself standing in complete silence, consumed by the weight of this new reality.

[llondonfog]

also made myself sick turning around and around the idea of lilia & silver making the journey to wild rose castle after the events of ch7

the sight it must be— the imposing veil of vines draped like an ironclad curtain over the silent castle walls; the way they yield for silver like a beloved pet upon his approach, curling away from their prince's touch lest he prick his fingers upon their thorns

how silver might hesitate at the gate, staring out at the path his mother must have walked to greet her returning knight; the same grim path his father took to leave behind his family for the last time, a path that held the footsteps of fleeing innocents and rabid conquerors. (lilia squeezes his hand without a word— the castle yearns for its prince, after all.)

the thought of the two of them picking their way through the tomb-like halls; lilia remembering a time when fae voices rang loud and clear, silver staring at the very walls themselves as if to wring from them forgotten memories. there are portraits lining their steps, faded and dim in the cool shade— they depict both nobility and scenery of great battles long past, and silver half fears the golden strokes caught in their paint. if he stares at them for too long, he wonders if they might absorb him entirely, a creature of the past left to linger on this earth far beyond his time.

i just want them to discover silver's cradle still standing where lilia left it all those years ago, with the very blanket silver's mother tucked around him still folded inside. for silver to brush a hand over the thrones where his mother and father might have once sat, for lilia to watch his son with stolen breath and glimpse a mirage— the phantom of meleanor in all her glory upon the dais, a glimmer of a crown upon silver's head. things that once were, ought to have been, and will never be.

and it kills me to think about how heartbreakingly tender it would be for them to both discover silver's nursery. the rooms where the knight and leia had so joyously decorated in preparation for their newborn son, their baby prince, the light of their life. the stuffed toys, now slumped and worn by time; the once colorful paint and plush bedding faded and moth-eaten. for lilia to pick up a carving knife and a half-finished wooden block, and be struck (for the hundredth, thousandth time) with the tragedy of war. of a man who would never be a father, of a family that would never realize peace.

i just want them to both sit in that room, surrounded by the eternal, aching love of silver's parents, and have that long, painful conversation about lilia's past and their present— unknowingly watched by the ghosts of a woman who creeps close to hold her child the only way that she can, and a man who lays a hand upon his once-enemy's shoulder, finding forgiveness at last after four hundred years.

[misskattylashes]

This essay is so big, it needs two parts!

The EYCTE cycle

Part 1

From ‘I Just wanted to be one of the Strokes’ to ‘I’m scared of love’ and why I don’t think we will get TLSP 3 any time soon.

There is no doubt that Planet Milex is a different place to where it was in 2015. Back then, they hung out in LA, treated girlfriends like third wheels, were pictured cuddling and behaving like a couple outside The Kills gig, and then went onto record Everything You’ve Come to Expect.

Planet Milex 2024 seems like a desert. No official pictures of them together, the only indication they are still in each other’s lives being Miles frequently mentioning in interviews about hanging out with Alex, still sharing clothes, a picture of them walking the streets of Shoreditch, a sneaky photo at a Scott Walker tribute concert (which interestingly was taken down immediately). Then ultimately, Alex wanting his beloved to be the support act for the final days of the tour, when it was clear at times Alex felt a little overwhelmed by it all, and of course, Miles was there to hold his hand and bring him back down to earth.

‘Maybe I was a little too wild in the seventies’

It’s interesting out of all the Monkey’s songs, it is I Wanna Be Yours that Alex then merged with Star Treatment (often adding ‘I just wanted a jet ski for the moat’ – more of that later), which kind of confirms who I Wanna Be Yours is about – I have no idea why no none has ever questioned the addition of ‘secrets I have held in my heart’.

I think the EYCTE period was one where feelings deepened and promises were made. The one to watch is Miles. At the beginning of the promotional period, Alex looks like an adoring boyfriend, but Miles is quite composed and whilst flirty with Alex, it’s no more than he ever was before, during the SIAS and AM eras. By the end, in the days of Sziget and Rock en Seine. Miles is looking like a soppy puppy with eyes full of love (pretty much how Alex has looked at him since 2008!). But judging by the lyrics of Star Treatment (which Alex started writing during EYCTE), Alex was aware their little bubble couldn’t last ‘here ain’t no place for dolls like you and me’, but Miles, having fallen hard thought they could keep it going.

Alex went off to France to record TBHC leaving Miles stranded in LA, friendless and a bit lost, meanwhile Alex went through a period of self-reflection and justifying to himself why he had let Miles down. Not all the songs on TBHC are related to Milex, Alex was influenced by a whole variety of things, but songs like Star Treatment, Golden Trunks, Batphone and The Ultracheese address their situation. The Ultracheese even ends ‘I done some things that I shouldn’t have done, but I haven’t stopped loving you once’. I see TBHC as Alex’s ‘excuse album’. Sorry I let you down Miles, but look what a big superstar I am with all these big responsibilities, but know I love you’

Miles on the other hand was angry and hurt and wanted to lash out. Coup de Grace is full of angst with thinly veiled digs at Alex (of course during the official promotion, Miles said it was about Hannah his ex but I do think mentioning Alex’s personal information in Killing the Joke is kind of telling). Wrong Side of Life is possibly one of the saddest and most desperate songs I have ever heard. And on Silverscreen, how do you explain Two Faced Johnny as being a woman?! The only hint at self-blame is on Too Little Too Late, with the lines ‘I’m too fickle set in my ways, I’m too little too late’ – which has echoes of Troubled Son. Personally, I think one of the reasons Alex possibly wanted to go back to how they were prior to EYCTE was because Miles had never committed before (see most of AM!) and it was a case of do the hurting before being hurt. But CDG ends with Shavambacu, which in an interview Miles said was about an ex and they used to call each other Shavambacu as a silly little name (cue footage of Miles calling Alex Shavambacu on stage). And the last line is ‘oh honey I love you’. Like TBHC, CDG ends with a declaration of love.

In between CDG and CTS we have the night at La Cigale (which I will write about in a different post) where I think their fall out came to a head, because not long after that, we have grainy footage of them hanging out in East London. At the same time Miles is writing Change The Show, and whilst the songs are still a bit angsty, there is a lot more pragmatism. See Ya When I See Ya stands out, and we have the ‘Johnny’ character again, but instead of being angry with Alex for his double life and secrets, Miles has resigned to himself he’ll always be there for him and keep his secrets for him. I think because they had reconciled to a degree, Miles realised they weren’t going anywhere, but it didn’t mean Alex didn’t annoy him. Final track Adios ta ra ta ra indicates exasperation at their constant battles, but there is still an air of resignation.

Part two tomorrow

[trshtffc]

You're Eris´ bride

The ladies in waiting step back when you get up from the chair, your hair styled in an intricate design under a veil of lace worth a house.

"Stunning, my dear." Your soon-to-be mother-in-law sighs, brushing a curl back from your cheek before blinding you with the heavy lace "Are you ready?"

"Yes, my lady."

The layers of fabric rustle softly as you walk at the end of the procession, the highest-ranking ladies of Autumn Court before you, making way through the rich carpeted halls of the Forest House, and you glance down at your dress, too blinded by the veil to see anything else.

A queen wouldn't have a more stunning dress than yours, all in Autumn-burgundy damask trimmed with gold and adorned with freshwater pearls from the streams of your homeland.

You stop just before they throw open the doors and the music spills out like a greeting. There is no need of anyone to warn you, you had counted the steps from your apartment here, and the remaining steps up to the altar.

There is none who could match you in the dance of court, you're perfect.

Well, none but him.

You scent Eris even through the veil, allowing him to lift the priceless lace before you look up into his eyes, the perfect picture of a submissive, doting bride.

You know that look drives him wild.

Eris´ amber eyes pierce yours, flames dancing behind his iris, and you know you're going to pay the price for this later. You give him your best coy smile, the one he had seen through from the very first time you met and you got up to curtsy to him.

"Welcome, my daughter." Beron´s warm voice echoes through the hall, silencing all others, and you turn to him with a curtsy, holding your breath as if you were so very dazzled by his presence.

It works, he stands only a touch taller, addressing his court once more.

"We gather here today to celebrate the union of my son and heir, prince Eris,..."

You look back at your groom, letting the High Lord´s words go on infinitely. Beron loved the attention, he would go on for an hour, and you'd have to blush and flutter your eyelashes as if you'd rather be marrying him, but for now you could look at Eris, your partner at this game, and marvel internally at his easy grace, his his tall standing, carefully humble enough not to provoke his father, the flames in his gaze when it met yours, the delicate blue veins under a skin so pale it freckled in the sun.

"Let´s play together." You remember the first time he said that, after a few weeks of glances and quips, when he caught you at a game of cards with other courtiers, and you asked if he wished to take your place.

Let´s play together.

The two of you formed a pair, an alliance. Eris was a balm to have on your side, he knew The Game, made it into a dance, and the two of you ran the court so beautifully Beron didn't even notice. Against your better judgement, you had fallen before you knew it.

You had resisted his advances nonetheless. The flirting, dancing, writing poetry, that was all part of The Game, and you were a player, not a piece.

Until that night he cracked. Nubla, his eldest hound, had found the door to your apartment and barked like all hell was upon the land, rushing down the hall and urging you along, and you found him in his room, struggling to breathe, holding onto another hound like a drowning man.

It hadn't taken long for you to get Eris to breathe again, but you held him to your chest all night, rocking him like a babe, the two of you guarded by his pack of hounds.

You remember his words as he fell asleep on your bosom.

"I'm not playing you."

"If any would challenge their union, let him meet my sword." Eris´ brother faces the court, placing his hand dramatically on the hilt.

More likely he would lend his sword. You give Eris an adoring look, knowing that he'll see the smile underneath, and his auburn lashes flutter with amusement. That brother is no trouble, he spends most of his time drunk anyway. You doubt he was even sober now, he got the words wrong.

The candle is brought to the altar, and Eris smiles as he conjures a small flame to his fingertips, joining it with yours.

"Two is one, it can never be parted again." Beron recites as the two of you light the candle that will later be used to lit the fireplace in your new bedroom "May you always be light and warmth for each other."

It was torture to accept such a gentle kiss from Eris and not be able to throw your arms around him, but you smile, the flush of your burning desire passing for modesty as you faced the court, the table for your very favourite game.

Your court, that the two of you would rule together. You knew the poison was working, already Beron began to forget things, or feel rather lost. People had been whispering behind their hands lately.

It wouldn't be a surprise when he suffered a hunting accident in a fortnight.

You smile back at the High Lord, allowing yourself to beam, a glowing bride and prized breeder for his trophy son.

You have outplayed him in The Game.

You're Eris´ wife, after all.

[willowser]

the crown prince returns to his chambers late, late into the night.

at the sound of the handle knocking against wood, you're pulled from the thin veil of sleep you'd fallen under, wiping salt from your cheeks as you struggle to find touya in the dark. your husband is only a shadow, lithe and wavering, but an audible sigh of frustration leaves him, one you've become well accustomed to during the short period of your marriage.

perhaps you shouldn't be a bother—but it's been a long night without him. "my lord?"

his figure stops, and moonlight streams through the windows and tangles within his hair. ever closer, you can smell him, reeking of honey-wine and earth, as if he's been rolling around in the dirt. it feels as though the silence that follows your voice stretches on, unending, and you're waiting for him to say something to pardon himself, conjure up a feeble excuse as to why he's avoided you— again.

but instead the crown prince says nothing. slumps down onto the edge of the bed, keeping his back to you as he always has.

of course you'd have been a fool to believe an arranged marriage such as this would have brought you any happiness—but you're so angry. all the effort you've put into being perfect, just as your mother taught you; reserved and well-mannered and patient and forgiving and ready to serve and—

"'s'true?"

you look away from the window, and the kingdom you've been chained to. away from the prisoner that's been chained to you.

"yes," you murmur, eyes on the hands you have resting atop the slight swell of your belly. the bedframe creaks as touya turns, breath halting at your admission; you hate to speak any further and strangle him—but you won't further the fracture between you by keeping secrets. "though the midwife believes it will be a girl."

the words hardly make it out before your tears are returning, throat thickening. already it seems you've disappointed him in more ways than one, and now you fear your ability to produce him an heir: your one and only purpose in this marriage.

your emotions run wild, and though he is drunk and most likely furious, you can't stop your blubbering. "i'm so sorry, my lord. i will pray to every god there is that he give me a son so that i will have been some use to you—"

"stop."

startled, you gasp, looking up as he worms his way further up the mattress. as soon as he's close enough, his hands are finding you, however they can: running along your hands and up your arms, one slipping behind your neck and the other covering yours, over the growing child in your belly.

"stop, stop," the sway of his head is slow but firm, and when words fail him, touya lays his forehead against yours, as he does when he is over you in bed, spent and sweating and vulnerable. his tenderness is few and far between, but not completely unknown; perhaps such a spark is what gives you motivation to try for more, again and again, with him. "no, you'll not."

"my lord, what—"

"stop," touya's jaw flexes in the candlelight as he steadies his voice, hand flexing in your hair. "will you stop fuckin'—can't you be my wife, just for once?"

a hot strike of anger has you rearing from him, mouth falling open as his eyes go wide with—amusement? "i have been trying—"

"my wife!" your husband interrupts, slouching forward until his head rests against your shoulder. breathing you in, tenderly, before speaking softly. "not my slave or my keeper or a doll i'm meant to leave on the shelf."

a gentle kiss to your throat has you softening and you turn just slightly, allowing your cheek to press into him. it earns you a quiet hum, a murmured, "there y'go," and you think he might be falling asleep until he straightens himself, gazing down at you with bright eyes.

"i don' really give a fuck about duty or havin' an heir," on top of your tummy, he squeezes your hand, soft smile growing on his face. "i just want my wife to be happy i squirted a baby in'er."

"t-touya!" heat rushes to your face as he laughs, dragging you back with him as he falls into the pillows. the hand he keeps on yours is warm and the smile he presses into your skin is wide, full of something you have only seen in bits and pieces.

free and untethered, for maybe the first time.

[darkcrowprincess]

In TLO, we are told that the Oracle cannot date. So what if Percy and Rachel were dating beforehand, and then right before she becomes the Oracle, they have a quick wedding ceremony so they’re married, not dating?

*most of my knowledge of how consent of marriage in New York between two 16 to 17 year olds comes from google. So if I get anything legally wrong I apologize*

"Are you sure about this Rachel?"

"I'm sure Percy." Rachel says from inside the single family bathroom at the court house.

"Besides if it doesn't work out we can always get divorce."

"Gee thanks." Percy says sarcastically.

Rachel giggles softly, "You know what I mean Percy. Besides I've got a good feeling about this. It feels right."

"Like I'm about to have a weird vision of the future feeling, or just a regular good feeling?" Percy questions.

Before Rachel can answer Percy's Mom and Paul comes up behind him. Sally smiling with a piece of paper in her hands. Mr Dares written consent. He smiles and waves back. Nervousness fully hitting him

"How did you get your dad to agree to this?"

"Blackmail". Rachel says, finally opening the bathroom door and stepping out.

"Oh". Percy says, stunned at the sight he sees before him. Ocean eyes wide, cheeks turning red.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare is a vision in ivory white. The dress she wears hangs around her all drape like but beautiful. Reminding Percy of greek women in movies. Two pieces of fabric attached to the skirt are also clip around her wrists so the skirt flows and swishes with her. As she move the dress moves with her, as if shes floating in water. The part of the bodice thats attached to the flowing skirt is aligned with white sea pearls. One perfectly lined up in a row, one after another. Circling her waistline. More pears are sewed at the top of the bodice near her chest. Showing a modest but greek style neckline. The look is completely with her red curls still wild but beautiful. A greek style flower laurel on her head, with a bit of white veil going down her back. Her face plain but no less beautiful natural. Big green wide eyes pop amongst the white, freckles all over her body standing out even more, but still beautiful. The most beautiful thing of all is her happy carefree smile.

Percy has said nothing, completely amazed by how beautiful she looks. He feels (embarrassing to think let alone admit) like Prince Eric from that Disney movie when Ariel the mermaid steps out of the shadows for the prince to see her in her pretty pink dress.

Flustred and still amazed Percy comments, "Yo-you look beautiful "

Rachel gives a happy flirty smile back. Eyes Percy up and down in satisfaction.

"No so bad yourself Percy. You clean up nice."

He laughs nervously, and tries not to mess up his styled black hair by running his fingers through it. After the yelling(first time ever really his mom has ever yelled like that and questioned what he was thinking) Percy's mom quickly came around once he fully explained about Rachel becoming the orcale. She again asked him if they were both sure(mainly eyeing her son for his reactions). But quickly became fully supportive with Paul's help. Paul more so getting Mr Dare's written consent, and finding a court house that would marry two teenagers in New York. Sally Jackson not only helped Percy with his hair, she got Percy a suit. A dark ocean blue suit. Plain white dress shirt. Matching ocean blue vest and tie. Percy felt like a ridiculous little boy playing dress up. However seeing Rachel, and her over all reaction. For once Percy felt maybe he did look good too. That they could actually maybe do this.

Percy reaches to hold both of Rachels hands. Linking their fingers together.

"Ready?" Questions Percy(he doesn't really need to.)

A determined look flashes in Rachel Elizabeth Dare's eyes. "Ready."

Percy nods then turns to his mom. She smiles at him.

******

Everything after that is a blur, what Percy remembers most is standing in front of the judge with Rachel. Holding her hands. He would be afraid that he's squeezing the circulation from her fingers, however shes squeezing just as hard back. So good to know he's not the only one freaking out. But soon the judge is having them sign their names on the paperwork. Afterwards he has them recite the typical lines you always hear at weddings.

"Do you Perseus Jackson, being of sound mind and body take Rachel Elizabeth Dare as you lawful wedded wife?" The old judge says, looking like stereotypical old man judge with glasses and gray hair. He has a disapproving look on his face('probably at their ages, but the old geezer can stuff it' thinks Percy).

Percy genuinely grins at Rachel. A soft fragile thing. He is fully putting his heart in her hands. "I do."

The judge continues, "And do you Rachel Elizabeth Dare, being of sound mind and body take Perseus Jackson as your lawful wedded husband?"

Rachel eyes shine. She has a serious look on her face. Not letting her eyes leave Percy she says, "I do."

"Than by the state of New York I pronounce you husband and wife. Young man you may now kiss your bride."

Percy sees a flash of blonde in the corner of his eye in the back of the court house but he ignores it(he's not letting her ruin this. Especially for Rachel). He takes a quick look a his mom and Paul (his parents) both smiling and crying. He finally looks at Rachel who smiles at him in reassurance. Rachel mouths the words 'I have a good feeling about this.' It gives him the courage to finally close the gap. Rachel leans up on her tip toes as he leans down and their lips touch. Warmth and comfort flashes through the both of them. It feels like home to Percy(it feels like he's breaking the cycle. Making his own destiny. They are no longer pawns of the gods)

Percy pulls Rachel closer and runs his fingers through her red curls. Kissing her a little harder. She hums in pleasure.

Too quickly they end the kiss and both pull back. Meadow green eyes meet ocean. Both unbelievably happy.

Hand in hand they walk to Percy's parents. Rachels sees the blonde sitting in the back and ignores it too. Through congratulations from both hugging parents Percy and Rachel dont let go of each others hands.

********

Rachel and his parents are both waiting outside the courthouse when Percy finally goes up to Annabeth. She meets him half way. Walking quickly to meet him. He expects it, but still flinches at the hard punch she gives him to his face( Annabeth is also wearing a silver ring with owl craved into the band. The owl cuts against Percy's eyebrow).

Casually the blonde shakes her fist out, her knuckles brused. Annabeth's eyes are cold, yet her face doesn't show much emotion. "How could you! Especially with her! She's a mortal Percy!"

Percy (ignoring the pain) tries to stay calm, hopefully he can get through this quickly. The quicker he gets through this the quicker he can get back to his parents and his girl- no his wife. His wife now he happily thinks.

"Since when is that your concern Annabeth? I can date and marry who I want. Your my friend. I would think you'd be happy for me."

Annabeth face goes a little red in angrer. Finally some emotion is showing.

" I kissed you, I thought even a seaweed brain like you can even figure out what that means!"

"Yeah you kissed me. Meaning you like me. But that doesn't mean I return those feelings Annabeth!" Percy says through clenched teeth.

Annabeth has worry in her eyes now. "This wasn't how this was suppose to go!" She grips his jacket collar hard and desperate. "You think this will be ok with the gods Percy?! Not only is she mortal, she's the psychic of Delphi too. They will not be pleased with this! They wont like being out smarted like this!"

Percy removes her hands from his person. "Its my life Annabeth! And I get to choose how I want to live it. We both get to. So I'm choosing her." Percy finally gives her and apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I care for her enough to risk it." It's too early to say love Percy thinks. But he's definitely starting to feel it could go that way with time. "I don't feel that way for you Annabeth. I'm sorry."

Full blown emotion finally shows on her face. Her lip wobbles, and tears gather in her eyes. But than her face goes angry again. Tears finally spill. "I gave up Luke for you. Fine than, if that's how you want to play it. Have fun with your mortal. When the gods get pissed off enough to think of some horrible pay back. Don't come crying to me." She turns swiftly and not looking back. Percy makes a motion to follow her, but Annabeth puts on her baseball cap and goes invisible.

He feels horrible for Annabeth. But he wont let her ruin today. He looks at his hand with his ring on it and smiles. He wont let anyone one ruin it.

********

"What happened to your forehead?" Rachel questions with worry, she gently touches the mark on his eyebrow.

Percy just smiles at her, clasping her hand with hers.

"It's nothing don't worry about it Mrs Jackson."

Rachel laughs at that. The look on her face is so beautiful he can't help but kiss her.

(Don't like don't read. Post hate and I'll block you)

[mercurygray]

hiiii could i pls ask about any fred/brady wedding and/or honeymoon thoughts? i love them a normal amount — @shoshiwrites

Being completely transparent here, I haven't thought about this at all, so this is very rough. (And now it's getting long??)

I have this vision that after the stalag, the flight that John is on goes to Paris, where they find Fred working in the Red Cross Club there. The mail's been wild for a few months, and she wanted something new when sticking around Thorpe Abbotts started to feel like a burden she didn't want to carry any more.

and they spend as much time as they have getting to know each other again shhhh.

John goes straight home after that - Paris to England, England to New York, New York to the loving arms of Mom and Dad and the rest of Victor, wondering what he's going to do with his life now that he's not a bomber boy. Fred has to stick around for a bit in Europe until everything wraps up, so it's John who's meeting her boat at the terminal, looking strange in civies and a fedora that doesn't look like it belongs to him after so long seeing him in crusher caps.

Maybe he has a ring that day. He's had enough time to think about it and he's not letting her go again.

(This does not surprise or alarm his parents. He's been talking about her for a while, and they know their son.) They swap her train ticket for one going upstate and go to meet the folks, and Fred calls her parents long distance to tell them that she's engaged. (I think Mr. and Mrs. Torvaldsen are a little more alarmed, but that's only because they've never met the guy, and Fred talked about everyone.)

Everyone's still working everything out, after the war - John's trying to figure out back pay and the GI bill and where they're going to live and find a job so it's just easier for Fred to go home first and get her feet under her. They write constantly and call whenever they can. John decides to take his teacher license exams and Fred coaches him by mail until she can move to be closer to him and start her classes to officially convert to Catholicism. (This is more of a formality for her, but it's important to his parents, so they're doing it. I don't see her as a particularly religious person, but it's not a huge swerve from her Lutheran upbringing.)

Small Catholic wedding - bride in tea-length white dress with a blusher veil and a hat and gloves. (It was expensive but what else was she going to do with that back pay? She's going to dye it afterwards, for a going-out dress.) Her something blue is a piece of her ARC uniform pinned inside her bodice and the silver sixpence was sent from England by her landlady in Thorpe Abbotts and she's borrowing a pair of silver shoe-clips from a friend to dress up her heels. They're absolutely thrilled to pieces that as many people as they get come - Crank made it in from Boston at the last minute, and a few of Fred's Clubmobile friends, and so so so many people send cards. A mountain of cards. ("It's almost like people like you, Freda," John says, very much teasing. "They're sure as hell not for me.")

Honeymoon is probably Niagara Falls, honestly. Or maybe Montreal? A train trip for a couple of days where they can be alone and in love and spend a lot of time with their clothes off and maybe do some touristy things.

...hhhhh this is so long i am so sorry.

[astridhoff03]

The little sibling:

@simon-white-blog

The contiontion to the First Hiccstrid married Couple Story i did.

The freshly fallen snow shimmers silvery in the light of the full moon on New Berk. Zephyr and Nuffink take advantage of this opportunity to have a snowball fight. The two children scream happily in their wild chase around their parents' house. Hiccup was throwing some logs into the fire when his wife stepped out the door, a white fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. In her hands she held a tray with sandwiches and a single salad plate filled mainly with cucumbers. His eyes slid over her beautiful appearance, the long blonde hair that fell in soft waves over her shoulders like a golden veil. Her unfathomable ocean blue eyes glowing in the glow of the flames. Right down to the little bulge in her stomach where a little baby was growing inside her. Smiling, he stood up and took the tray from his wife's hands. “May I?” Astrid rolled her eyes with a smile. "Hiccup, I'm not seriously ill, I‘m just pregnant." In response, he just gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before placing the tray on a small wooden table in front of the fireplace. “I know, Astrid. But still."The two sat down by the fire and then watched their children playing happily in the snow. "Ready to tell them the news?" Astrid nodded, then called out, "Zephyr! Nuffink! Please, both of you, come here!” The siblings immediately came running and quickly climbed onto the bench next to their parents, where they immediately cuddled up to the two of them. Astrid lovingly ran her fingers through her little daughter's hair, and Zephyr giggled under the touch of her mother's gentle fingers. "We'd like to tell you something," Astrid began, giving Hiccup a quick smile as he sat Nuffink on his lap. “And it is very important to us that you listen carefully,” he continued. The two children nodded in joyful anticipation. Hiccup placed his hand on his wife's thigh and looked at her invitingly. Astrid ran her hand over her stomach. “So dear ones, you will soon have a little sibling,” she announced. Zephyr and Nuffink exchanged a quick look. Astrid bit her bottom lip, a quick glance with her husband was enough to see that he was thinking the same thing. Had her children taken it the wrong way? Did they think they would love them less now? But Hiccup and Astrid could hardly think any further when their two children happily jumped up and hugged them. “This is the best Snoggeltog present ever,” Zephyr exclaimed, wrapping her arms over her mother’s stomach. "And don't worry mommy, I'll take good care of you and the baby," Nuffink announced proudly, fiddling clumsily with his toy sword. Hiccup stroked his son's shaggy hair. “And I will take good care of you all. A Chief protects his family.”His gaze slid from his pregnant wife to his two children, who were carefully stroking their mother's stomach. At this moment he couldn't be happier. A smile appeared on his face. “Then let’s eat to celebrate the day.” Astrid and the children didn’t need to be told twice.

After dinner the children decided to build a Dragon out of snow. Astrid was leaning on her husband's shoulder and watching her children. Hiccup's hand slowly stroked her shoulder. Lost in thought, he watched as it started to snow again. Small white flakes trickled down in the glow of the northern lights and glittered in the glow of the colorful natural spectacle. Astrid noticed his look and stroked his chest so that his eyes fell on her again. “Is everything okay?” He sighed heavily. “No, it’s not Astrid. I'm looking forward to the baby but...I'm scared...for you and the baby." "You're afraid it'll be like when Nuffink was born?" He nodded. “I almost lost you back then. I don’t want to lose you this time.” He took both of her hands in his. "Astrid, I can't imagine a world without you." She ran her hand over his cheek. “I can’t imagine a world without you either. But I promise you, everything will be okay. You will not lose me. Never!” With these words, Hiccup wrapped his arms around his wife’s body and hugged her tightly and then gave her a kiss on her temple. “I love you, Astrid. I love you."

(Lil side note: there Will be another contiontions of this Story)

[bitterkarmaa]

Eclipse: *walks in with little Veil*

Everyone in the room:

*whispering* the fucc?

Re-writing this in 4k

Pt 1

Eclipse emerges into the main room with little hesitation, having already devoted himself to allowing this type of vulnerability to show. He didn’t know why he was showing it, but…he felt like he needed to. For Veil, perhaps, or to assure himself that he was a comforting presence now, instead of a threatening one.

No matter the reason, he was here now, and there was no going back.

But, oh boy, does he want to go back the moment that everyone turns to look at him.

He would’ve done just that if it wasn’t for the way Veil tightens his grip under all those eyes, hiding timidly amongst Eclipse’s oil-streaked clothing. The elder animatronic stands his ground, as he usually does, despite the looks he is being given.

Judgement dances in the stances and stares of everyone around the room, and, for just a moment, Eclipse wants to wipe those looks away. He wants to snap and slash, catching each one of them in his claws like wild animals caught in the clutches of a snare.

But he doesn’t.

He’s been good.

“What did you need me for?” He breaks the silence with a tight voice, one that demands an answer so that he may leave.

“Uh…are we just gonna…ignore that…?” Moon motions to Veil in his arms, a wrench dangling from his hand.

“Ignore what?” Eclipse asks innocently. He knows playing dumb won’t get him very far, but since when has that stopped him from doing something?

“Don’t play stupid!”

Blood Moon bristles, their claws digging into the beanbag they were previously peacefully situated upon. Now they kneel amongst it’s fabric with wild eyes, shoulders tight, back arched like a cat about to leap into a battle.

Eclipse glances down to them in a calm manner.

“Play stupid? Me? You’re amusing, boys.” He smiles in a mock sort of warmth, addressing his sons as if nothing is wrong. In reality, there is nothing truly wrong, but…

This seems to agitate them, for some reason.

Hearing Blood Moon’s sharp tone seems to frighten Veil, of whom begins to shake in his arms. He shuts his eyes tightly against the growing fear that sinks its teeth into his head, willing it to leave him be.

“You-“ Blood Moon starts, voice barely above a growl. Lunar reaches out and lays a hand onto their arm, his own eyes round with worry.

“Stop that! We’re having a moment!” They snap, shoving Lunar’s hand off with more aggression than they intended. Lunar lets out a squeak and scoots back, but…he doesn’t seem scared. No, he almost seems…angry…

“That was mean!” Lunar crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing Blood Moon with unwavering determination. They don’t even look at him.

“That thing hurt all of us, and you’re just…what, caring for it? Being gentle with it?! Replacing us with it?! Hell, it killed you!” Blood Moon snarls, noting with satisfaction that Veil flinches on almost every word.

Eclipse can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Replace you? What are you going on about?” He asks, tone dripping with amusement. This only seems to upset them more.

“You’re not even listening!!” They shout, slamming their hand down onto the beanbag they’re still hunched upon.

“Because you’re having a temper tantrum.”

“TEMPER TANTRUM?!” Their voices shift and crackle, static coursing through their bitter tones. Two voices, perfectly aligned, speaking as one. They both feel this outlandish jealousy, and they both feel it to the same extreme.

Lovely.

What frustrates Eclipse is that Veil begins to cry in his arms once again, his eyes blazing with anger as he glares daggers into Blood Moon’s own pointed stare.

“You made him cry.” Eclipse scolds.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!” Blood Moon raises their hands, tugging at their cap with shaking claws, taunt with shock and betrayal.

“Be quiet, both of you. What is it that I was to be questioned about? I would like to get this over with before this environment becomes more hostile.” Eclipse quips lightly, glancing around the room. Sun looks at Moon, and Moon looks at the floor.

“…I was gonna ask if you had the cat memes still, to share with Sun.”

Eclipse’s expression flattens. “You’re deadass.”

“I’m deadass.”

“No, your ass is dead.” He hisses, and Moon instantly raises his hands in a show of innocence.

“You could’ve said ‘hey, I’m having a moment and need a bit of time, can you hold on?’ You know, like normal people do?”

Eclipse scowls, but makes no attempt to refute Moon’s statement.

“By the way, thanks for pointing fingers, Sun.” Moon comments sourly.

“I looked at you!” Sun defends, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation.

“With purpose!”

“Oh my god you cannot be serious right now-“

As the two siblings begin to bicker, Rays slowly raises his hand in the midst of all the chaos. Eclipse gives him a confused look, but nods to him nonetheless.

“Does he have a name?” He asks quietly, giving a vague motion towards Veil. Eclipse stares at him for a moment, seemingly surprised that someone is trying to accommodate for Veil despite the obvious tension his presence provides. Then again…Rays wasn’t exactly around when Eclipse was slaughtered by his newest son.

“Veil.” Eclipse responds after a long silence, glancing down to the animatronic in question as his creation stirs in his arms, looking nervously over to Rays, of whom gives him a small wave and warm, welcoming smile.

Thank god…someone has sense.

“That’s a cool name.” He adds, making Veil smile the slightest bit.

“Thank you.” Veil murmurs shyly.

“It’s a dumb name.” Blood Moon mutters from their place beside Lunar, arms crossed and face set in a sour sort of pout.

“Be nice. He’s scared.” Rays attempts to reason with the envious twins, of whom shut down his consolations with one sharp glare. Rays withers back into his place near the couch, falling into a heavy silence.

“Blood Moon’s a dumb name.” Veil retaliates, though immediately regrets it when they turn their head 180 degrees to face him, neck bent at an odd angle while their arms are still firmly crossed in front of them.

“Say it to our face and see what happens.” They threaten, quite obviously wishing Veil to take up their offer so that they’ll have an excuse to lunge.

Eclipse turns so that Veil is out of their sightline.

“Enough.” He demands, tone flat, reminiscent of the days that Blood Moon remembers being the worst of their lives. They look away, turning their head back the right direction with a barely audible ‘click’ as it falls back into place.

“You too.” Eclipse scolds Veil, of whom shrinks away from him with a quick, frightened nod.

“You’re keeping him.”

Lunar’s voice, so uncharacteristically cold for someone as lighthearted as he usually is. It isn’t a question, no, but a statement awaiting confirmation. His sky blue eyes bore into Eclipse’s back, and he turns to see the most furious expression he’s ever seen on his little brother’s face.

“He’s not a dog, but…I guess, yeah, in a sense, I am keeping him.” Eclipse responds skeptically.

The fury intensifies.

“He killed you.”

Lunar usually doesn’t outright say these things, as admitting the event happened can often lead to him crying for hours on end at the memories. He has a few specific words he has vowed not to say, and ‘killed’ just happens to be one of them.

“Yeah.” Eclipse tries to ignore the unease that stirs in his circuits.

“Did that mean nothing?”

Eclipse remains silent at that, looking away, avoiding Lunar’s accusatory gaze.

“I cried for you. Because of him. And that’s just it? It means nothing to you?”

“It doesn’t mean nothing. It just means that I’m willing to forgive him.” Eclipse flashes back, head coming up so that he can meet Lunar’s eyes once again.

“What if none of us are willing to forgive him? What then?” Again, that same cold, unfeeling tone. It doesn’t fit Lunar. Eclipse hates hearing it from Lunar.

“Then there will be an issue.”

The room falls silent after that. Everyone stays still, Sun and Moon having since ended their argument due to the amounting stress in the room. Now, they exchange conflicted glances, offering one another silent apologies.

A scrabble of claws over wood brings the group from their trance.

“Blood!” Lunar shouts, reaching out in a vain attempt to stop their deranged behavior before it gets someone hurt.

But they’re already out of his reach.

“Run.”

Eclipse looks down to Veil, a frenzied panic clearly reflecting in both father and son’s eyes. Veil, however, had an urgency in his voice that drives Eclipse to act instead of stand and stare.

He does just that, sliding to the side right as Blood Moon lunges, colliding harshly with the wall, in the place that Eclipse just stood.

Not directed at me.

Eclipse’s eyes widen, watching his crazed sons shake their head like a stunned dog, then turn to face him with a vacant look that chills him to his core.

Their gaze is locked on Veil.

Eclipse takes another step back as Sun and Moon begin to move towards them, Lunar not far behind.

“Over here!”

Eclipse looks up, over to the ladder, where Rays is perched with his arms outstretched, urging Eclipse and Veil towards him. With one last helpless look over his shoulder at Blood Moon, Eclipse moves over to Rays, grabbing his hand and being pleasantly surprised (and kinda impressed) when the battered animatronic manages to hoist him up onto the platform that leads out into the daycare.

Blood Moon has since been restrained by Moon, but it doesn’t seem to stop their relentless pursuit. This…this is a hunt to them. They won’t stop until Veil is either killed, or out of their sight.

But where would they go?

Moon yelps, tossed off to the side as Blood Moon manages to get some sort of advantage. Sun dives to take his brother’s place, but Blood Moon has already begun to bolt towards the ladder.

Rays positions himself at the top, planting himself between the aggressor and Eclipse, of whom still clutches Veil firmly to his chest.

“They won’t stop.” Eclipse says helplessly, and Rays glances over his shoulder just long enough to say perhaps the most badass thing he’s said since his arrival.

“You know what to do. I’ll hold them off.”

Eclipse watches in horror as Blood Moon grapples with Rays, savagely beginning to tear into the poor animatronic. Then it clicks.

I can stop this.

Eclipse’s pupil shrinks, a pinprick in the endless darkness of his eye. The other eye flickers to life, a barely visible ring of light glowing from beneath the cracked glass.

The other side of his vision comes back in a burst of color.

“Veil, don’t look.”

He sets his newest son down onto the floor, planting one of his legs in front of him as the young bot covers his eyes with shaking hands.

I don’t want to hurt them. They’re family too.

Eclipse raises his hand, realizing how badly it shakes as he points it towards Blood Moon.

They’ll kill him.

He doesn’t have any time to decide before a large, clawed hand slams down onto Blood Moon, ripping them off of Rays and dragging them over the side of the stage, sending them cascading into the ball pit below.

—————

Want a pt 3