#a beautiful moment in fandom history

[tangerinequeen19]

The cultural milestone of Louis Tomlinson covering Beautiful War 😔

[juusasu4evagrrl]

I just remembered that a naruto fan art rendition of Judith beheading her rapist Holofernes exists and ☹️

[jayybugg]

nurse

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.

Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.

Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.

Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.

So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.

“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”

There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”

Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.

Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.

First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.

Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.

“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”

“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.

“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”

“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.

“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”

“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”

“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.

“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.

“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.

Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.

“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”

With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”

Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.

You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.

“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.

“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.

“I know.”

“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”

There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.

“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”

Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.

“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”

“No, I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”

“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.

“But-”

Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.

“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.

“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”

“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”

You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.

“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.

“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”

“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.

“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.

Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.

When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.

“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”

“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.

“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”

“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.

“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.

Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.

When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.

You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.

You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.

“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”

“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”

Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.

“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.

That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.

However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.

It felt familiar.

Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.

“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.

“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.

“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.

Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.

“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.

“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.

You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”

“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.

You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.

4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”

Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”

“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.

“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”

Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.

You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.

You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.

You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.

“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”

You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”

Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.

“Give me a check-up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.

“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”

“I do but-”

“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.

You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”

Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.

It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.

“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.

“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.

Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”

“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.

“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.

Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.��� You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”

“Ghost....”

“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”

“How I need to ruin you.”

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”

“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”

You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”

Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.

A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.

“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.

You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”

You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”

“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.

He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.

“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.

Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”

Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.

He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.

Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.

Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.

“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”

Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.

“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.

“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.

“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.

“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.

“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.

Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.

“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.

“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”

“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.

“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”

“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.

“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”

Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”

Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.

“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”

“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.

“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”

Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.

Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.

[skyeslittlecorner]

hiyaa!! can i request the king’s reaction to gabriel attempting to kill mc when they aren’t there? he does succeed in slashing their arm a bit, where mc crouches in pain while trying to stop the bleeding.

(your blog is my fav btw i love all of your stuff! <3)

First, let me be a nerd as I explain one thing, because I know that not everyone has been in the fandom from the beginning, and this fact was mentioned in the very first event. Gabriel's scythe kills on touch. It is a gift from god that even kings avoid because just one scratch means death.

I don't know if you were aware of this, dear anon, when you asked for this headcanon (if you wanted a less drastic scenario, please let me know, I'll gladly write a second one!). Get ready for angst.

(And! Thank you for kind words! You have no idea how nice to hear that <;3)

Satan reacted as befitted his sin. Wrath. Rage. Breakdown. A red, thick fog flowed into the streets, only choking the subordinates, but sweeping away the angels. They couldn't stand the mourning that poured out of him, and they died in agony as long as he held your dying body in his arms. This was the only day in the history of Gehenna when the devils lost their will to fight and their king almost followed you into the arms of death, fighting more fiercely than ever before.

You fulfilled your promise. You died to protect Hell. And he failed to protect you. Once you were buried in a beautiful, simple grave, Satan had only one thing on his mind. He promised you that he would be faithful, only yours, for millennia. And he will keep that promise. No lovers, no one-night stands. He couldn't protect you, but he can protect the one you did all this for. Minhyeok and his later children won't even be aware of it, but they have just gained a pure white, red-eyed guardian.

Beelzebub felt you dying rather than saw you. By the time he appeared at your side, it was too late. There was almost no blood flowing, but you both knew that this wound would never heal. He kissed you and whispered soothingly as you died. It was his fault. His damn eternal wandering. If he had stayed, if he had watched you better... You deserved more than being buried among his clones. You should rest with those who, unlike him, did protect you. With your parents. He will show up with your body on Minhyeok's doorstep, hoping that he will get angry and yell at him, but he will only break down in tears over your body. This is not enough for Beelzebub, this is worse than the punishment he expected. He doesn't feel worthy of attending your funeral, but he'll watch from afar anyway.

Your tombstone will always look like new, even for hundreds of years. Intact stone, fresh flowers. There are things that even Beelzebub cannot forget.

Leviathan won't let you die. No, just no. No way. Do not agree. The moment you get hurt, he will catch you in his arms. The face is colder than usual, but the voice is more soothing than ever. "Do not be afraid. You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” He will kiss you one last time and push you into his coffin. Suspended somewhere between worlds, not dead, but not alive either, you will be pushed into eternal sleep, barely remembering who you are.

Leviathan won't stop there, he has to get you back. Only god can save you from death, and if that means this devil has to find him, he will. Anything to get you back to his side. He won't agree to lose another person he loves.

This time Mammon is the spoiled one

MAMMON

The shield you raised could withstand anything - or so you thought, until Gabriel cut through it like a knife through wax. The wound on your forearm was minor. Almost invisible. Still, you stared at it in silence, dazed. You knew what that meant.

A fist sprung in front of your nose a second too late. Shooed the seraph away a second too late. Your life could have been saved. A second too late.

"Master! Are you okay?" Mammon caught up with you and grabbed you in his arms. The grogginess slowly turned into dizziness. You collapsed onto his chest, losing strength.

"He... hurt me." You whispered into his broad chest. His muscles tensed as if ready to attack, but the huge arms lifted you ever so gently. You felt like you were in a huge cradle. The consciousness that slowly drained from your body was glad that it was spending its last moments in these arms.

The king held your limp body for a long time. He couldn't say goodbye to you, he couldn't understand that he had lost you. That you already had left this Hell, and there was nothing he could do about it.

A huge mausoleum was built in the meadow where you died. Gold and silk blinded the inhabitants from afar, outshining the sun itself. Despite the splendor greater than in the palace, everyone considered your tomb to be the poorest place in the world. Mammon visited it every day. He reminded himself that he needed to protect his people better. That he should have protected you better. For the first time in his life he felt real loss.

It was here that Tartaros' greatest treasure was lost.

[queerfables]

Taking away the glass?

Oh gosh I'm actually so keen to talk about this so thank you for the opening!

Context: Responding to akaitsukicat's artwork of Crowley and Aziraphale separated by a glass wall, I said that the reason we're all such wrecks over their kiss is because after 6000 years in canon and 33 years in real life, that kiss was "taking away the glass".

The glass is a metaphor that media scholar Henry Jenkins uses to explain the appeal of slash, originally published in 1993. Here, "slash" refers to queer re-interpretation of heterosexual media, including transformative works exploring those readings.

This is what Jenkins says about the glass:

When I try to explain slash to non-fans, I often reference that moment in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan where Spock is dying and Kirk stands there, a wall of glass separating the two longtime buddies. Both of them are reaching out towards each other, their hands pressed hard against the glass, trying to establish physical contact. They both have so much they want to say and so little time to say it. Spock calls Kirk his friend, the fullest expression of their feelings anywhere in the series. Almost everyone who watches the scene feels the passion the two men share, the hunger for something more than what they are allowed. And, I tell my nonfan listeners, slash is what happens when you take away the glass. The glass, for me, is often more social than physical; the glass represents those aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men, which block the possibility of true male friendship. Slash is what happens when you take away those barriers and imagine what a new kind of male friendship might look like. One of the most exciting things about slash is that it teaches us how to recognize the signs of emotional caring beneath all the masks by which traditional male culture seeks to repress or hide those feelings.

The vid I refer to, inspired by Jenkin's comments, is The Glass by thingswithwings. It's a beautiful vid, sad and hopeful and empowering, with a very moving commentary on fandom history. It was originally published in 2008, which is relevant to understanding the position it takes in the dialogue around queer relationships in media.

Here's thingswithwings' summary of the vid, as it appears on YouTube:

Henry Jenkins, speaking of the Spock death scene from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, said, "slash is what happens when you take away the glass." It has been said, in response, that death also happens when you take away the glass. ie, if you took away the glass Kirk would die of radiation poisoning too; the barrier between desiring men cannot be removed on pain of death. Homosexuality, or just loving touch between two people of the same gender, is equivalent to death in this media narrative. One of the interesting things about slash is the way it takes away the glass, then puts it back, then takes it away, then puts it back, often pleasurably. I think this is both problematic and powerful. It is problematic because it reasserts the impossibility of the touch (it fetishizes oppression in a negative manner); it is powerful - and good - because it dwells on and thinks about and removes the glass (it fetishizes oppression in a transformative manner). One of the interesting things about mainstream media is that it continues to put the glass back up, no matter how hard we try to tear it down. Queer desiring touches have been, and remain, imaginable but impossible. TL;DR ALTERNATE SUMMARY: THERE SEEMS TO BE SOME KIND OF INVISIBLE BARRIER IDK WHAT IT MIGHT BE

In regards to Good Omens, it's relevant that this entire conversation about homosocial relationships in media takes place within the 29 year period between the publication of Good Omens the book and the adaptation of the story to screen. The vid was created 15 years ago - which is to say 18 years after the book was published and 11 years before season 1 was released - and it talks about realised queer desire in mainstream media as being so impossible that it is equivalent to death. That is the kind of resistance that queer representation in pop culture has been up against, these last three decades.

Crowley/Aziraphale, as depicted in the book, is such a classic example of slash. I've seen some people who read the book in a contemporary context saying they didn't necessarily pick up on any subtext between the characters, and I suspect this is a mark of cultural expectations. Firstly, because the cultural references that the intentional subtext relies on have become obscured over time - see Neil Gaiman's explanation of the "consenting cycle repairmen" line. But more importantly because the audience's frame of reference for unintentional subtext has shifted, too. What is unsayable and which silences are emotionally loaded has changed over time. Even if you are intentionally using a queer lens in your reading, you might not see subtext in the same places that someone would even 10 years ago.

For example, take this passage from the book:

On the whole, neither [Aziraphale] nor Crowley would have chosen each other's company, but they were both men, or at least men-shaped creatures, of the world, and the Arrangement had worked to their advantage all this time. Besides, you grew accustomed to the only other face that had been around more or less consistently for six millennia.

On it's face, this line suggests that the relationship between the two of them is a matter of convenience more than desire. Maybe that's the intended reading and maybe that's how it started or how they justify their association to themselves, but taken together with how deeply they know each other and how they are always each other's first thought in a crisis, suddenly "neither would have chosen the other's company" sounds like an extremely British way to say they care about each other far more than they were supposed to. Plus, this is Aziraphale's take on their relationship, and it plays rather beautifully against Crowley's much simpler expression of the exact same sentiment:

Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him a sort of friend.

To go back to Henry Jenkin's wise words, what we're seeing here is Aziraphale thinking about Crowley through the glass - through the "aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men". If you came up in slash fandom at a time when seeing queer relationships in canon was unthinkable, you probably find it easier to identify the gap between how Aziraphale thinks about his relationship with Crowley and how their relationship actually functions. That gap was where a lot of slash lived.

You might say that the book shows Crowley and Aziraphale watching each other through the glass, and season 1 is them pressing up against it. They're still prevented from showing the full depth of feeling between them, they still hunger for more than they're allowed, but they are reaching for it. We see the history of their relationship developing through the ages. The unsayable is still left unsaid, but we feel the weight of it in everything they do. They come so very close but they still can't cross that threshold.

And then there's season 2. Within the text, Crowley and Aziraphale are not just pressing against the glass, they're actively trying to dismantle it. They're searching for a door to the other side. They're inspecting for weak points where they could cut their way through. And then suddenly they're out of time and out of options and the glass is still between them, and there's nothing they can do.

As the audience, you feel that desperation. You feel that grief. And if you're someone who's been watching the glass go back up on every relationship you thought might stand a chance of tearing it down, it hits hard. You're longing vicariously with the characters, but you're longing for yourself too, to see queer desire made possible. To see queer touch made not just imaginable but real.

And then, with all hope lost, Crowley throws himself through the glass. It doesn't matter that it doesn't save them. They kiss and it changes everything. Queer desire is no longer up for debate. Queer touch is no longer impossible. They kiss and the glass shatters, entirely and irrevocably.

This is why it matters so much that they did kiss, even though the love between them was already undeniable. For thirty years, Crowley and Aziraphale were part of a media landscape that relentlessly reinforced the glass at every turn and flooded fatal radiation through any crack they couldn't fix. In a different context, that kiss would be less vital to affirming their relationship. But in the world we live in, with the specific history that this story has, I don't think anything else could have done what it did. The glass between these characters had been reinforced over decades, in a culture that made the barriers to open intimacy between men inescapable. Their kiss was what it took to break it.

And by shattering the glass, this story has fundamentally rewritten what is possible. It proves the rules preventing true affection between people of the same gender can be defied. Queer people are already becoming more visible in pop culture; we're no longer reliant on slash reimagining queer longing between heterosexual leads. But Crowley and Aziraphale's kiss is cathartic and vindicating in an entirely different way. It turns slash into intentional queerness. It takes a fetishisation of oppression vacillating between problematic and transformative, and finally stands up on the side of powerful, empowering transformation. It confronts the barriers that once rendered this desiring touch impossible, and breaks through them once and for all.

That's what taking away the glass means. That's what Good Omens did.

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Could you write about Harwin strong being married to Rhaenyra's sister and they are in Drifmark and is their son who attacked Aemond to protect his little brother so when they are asking about what happens they stand up for him and at the end is the reader who stops Alicent from attacking her son?

(Gif not mine but oh, be still my beating heart)

Title: Strong Bonds

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Female!Targaryen Reader

Word Count: 7,610

Warnings: Grief, incest, blood, violence, childbirth, etc.

A/N: FINALLY A HARWIN STRONG REQUEST! For context, Y/n will be a year younger than Rhaenyra, and speaking of which, Rhaenyra will still be married to Laenor and their sons are all legitimate with mixed skin, silver hair, and purple eyes.

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

"Are you sure it's safe for you to be traveling at this extent?"

Y/n peered up from absentmindedly playing with her sleeping son's dark hair, her own silver locks falling over her eyes as she does so. The carriage rocks as it slowly made its way down a dirt road outside, swaying the Targaryen princess and her family in a calming moment of their chaotic lives. The son whose head rested in her lap, Osmund, stirred when the carriage hit a bump in the road but otherwise kept on dreaming. Y/n returned to petting his hair to keep him that way.

Her husband, Harwin Strong, closely watches her from across the carriage, their youngest son, Baelor, also slept but preferred his father's strong arms over his mother's small lap. No one could blame the five-year-old child since Princess Y/n's lap had shrunk over the months due to her ever-growing stomach, now barely giving ten-year-old Osmund room to sleep in peace.

She raises a sharp eyebrow at her husband, "Would you rather have me fly Qyraxes to Driftmark?"

"Gods, woman, no of course not," Harwin shakes his head, but couldn't help the small grin he bore, "You act like I want to be a widower. What I meant to say was that we didn't have to leave if it would be safer for you."

"This is my cousin's funeral, my love," Y/n spoke sadly, staring out the window while thinking of Laena, "Everyone is going to be there and we, alongside the rest of my father's family, are expected to be there. Besides... I have not seen or heard from Rhaenyra since she left for Dragonstone. I need to see her again."

"Your sister could easily fly back to King's Landing to see you."

A scowl forms on the princess' beautiful face, "Not when there are leeches always lurking about in the Red Keep."

She doesn't speak plainly, but the message was clear. Y/n always prided herself in acting similar to her uncle, Daemon, over her father, Viserys. Much like Daemon, Y/n always saw Otto Hightower as a leech, sucking the blood from the King's back. His daughter is no different. Queen Alicent is a thorn in Y/n's side. Like repeating history, the two women exchange poisoned words with each other, much like how Otto and Daemon once did. It brought Y/n comfort to learn that Lord Otto was dismissed and sent back to Oldtown, with her good father, Lord Lyonel, taking his place as the new Hand of the King, but the Queen still remained. Y/n may not have been friends with Alicent like Rhaenyra once was, but their personalities clashed and therefore formed a rivalry that matched the feud between Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Alicent's most recent jab was one spoken under her breath, but for the entire Small Council to hear. She had made a comment that only true Targaryens have silver hair, and although she never spoke plainly, everyone knew she was singling out Y/n and Harwin's black-haired children. Lord Lyonel Strong looked appalled and disgusted in defense of his son, and Viserys wanted to come to his youngest daughter's defense, but Y/n had always been able to hold her own. Her sharp tongue shuts the accusation down quickly when she pointed out that Alicent's sons and daughter must not be true Targaryens then since they're half Hightower and were just lucky enough to bear silver hair.

Y/n didn't like King's Landing any more than Rhaenyra because of obvious reasons, but unlike Rhaenyra, the younger sister didn't really have a choice in leaving when both she and her husband were part of her father's court. As much as Y/n would love to raise her children alongside her sister in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra had been named the princess of said keep and therefore she had every right to live there. Y/n, being the younger daughter of Viserys and Aemma, had no such claim and unfortunately had no rights apart from those she earned when marrying her now husband.

Not to say she was complaining, however, since she loved Harwin with a burning passion and was happy to bear his sons and heirs of Harrenhal. Y/n had never been happier, and made peace with the fact that she would never have claims to anything like Rhaenyra did as long as she wasn't Viserys' heir. Y/n was content in just being a Targaryen princess, a dragon rider, a wife, and most proudly a mother. Nothing more.

Harwin relents after a fashion of heavy, grieving silence, adjusting his younger boy's head to rest more comfortably on his chest, "Did the maesters say you'll be safe to travel?"

"... No," she flashed a shy grin as if she had been caught stealing sweets, "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Harwin huffs out a small, exhausted laugh, a fond tone in his voice, "Have you noticed how much I've aged since I married the trickster that you are?"

"I've never tricked you into anything," Y/n tilts her head and smiles fondly back at him, "If anything, you're the one who's been tricking me. Only you could persuade me from causing a little chaos."

"Then I should have tried making my case back at King's Landing before we even packed for Driftmark."

"I'm pregnant, my love, not dying," Y/n decides to change the subject upon looking out the window and seeing Driftmark's rooftops in the distance, "I hope Daemon makes an appearance. He tends to act more of a stranger than usual when grieving."

~~~~~~~~~

Daemon is not there to greet his family when they arrive, but Rhaenyra is, along with her husband, Laenor, and their children, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

The royal family and their court all spill out of their line of carriages, King Viserys being the first to greet his oldest daughter with a hug and a kiss before greeting Laenor with his condolences. Alicent and her children dutifully say their grievances, but remain stiff during the whole exchange. Harwin emerges from his carriage, helping his sons out and then his heavily pregnant wife. Y/n's feet barely touched the ground before Rhaenyra embraced her.

"You look stunning," the older sister comments while holding Y/n's face in her hands, "Have the maesters determined the gender of the child?"

"They think it's a girl," Y/n beamed, glancing over at her husband, "And I think he is far more excited than I."

"Marvelous. You must tell me what names you have planned out over tea," Rhaenyra links her arm with Y/n as they began to walk.

"How is Joffrey?"

"Restless, I'm afraid. I left him at home with the wet nurse so that I may gain some sleep out of all of this. You know, if you're truly having a daughter, perhaps we might get to wed our children after all."

"Wouldn't that be lovely? We would get to spend our elder years together, watching our children and grandchildren rule all of the strong houses of the Seven Kingdoms. And let's not forget the dragons they would all ride."

The beautiful vision fades when the Lord and Lady of Driftmark finally come out to greet their guests. Rhaena and Baela are with them and are momentarily distracted from their grief in exchange for fawning over Y/n's rounded belly. Y/n gladly answered their questions if it meant they could briefly forget about their mother's passing. She also secretly enjoyed the girls' company, excited with the idea of possibly having her own girl soon. Jace and Luke trail behind them, but try to act as though they were not interested. Y/n included her nephews in the conversation, wanting them to bond with Laena's daughters. They were family after all, and family shouldn't feel like strangers to one another.

The funeral itself is brought down to the cliffsides where Laena's coffin is to be thrown into the sea. Vaemond Velaryon said a wonderful eulogy about his family's house and finally, the heavy coffin was thrown from the cliffs' edge, sinking to the very bottom of the deep. No one ever said a word until they walked back up to the keep in order to help themselves to wine and food. Plenty of people took this time to give their condolences to the family of the dead, and Corlys and Rhaenys bravely took in their guests despite mourning for the loss of their child. Laenor mysteriously vanishes, but no one says a word, not even when Corlys angrily sent Ser Qarl Correy to fetch him. Everyone was tight-lipped, the tension filling the air with the threat to break. Who were meant to be family members barely knew what to do with each other.

Speaking of, Y/n finally spotted Daemon lingering on the outskirts of the growing crowd and briefly left the children with Harwin and Rhaenyra so that she may give her condolences, "Uncle. My sincerest apologies for you and your daughters."

Daemon accepts the kiss on his cheek but keeps his hands folded in front of him, leaning against the stone balcony overlooking the sea. His eyes travel over his niece's face before traveling down to her swollen belly, smiling slightly as he spoke in Valyrian, "Not as sorry as I am for you to make such a harrowing journey in your predicament. My own wife was dying from childbirth before she took matters into her own hands. One could only wonder if the difficult labor was the consequence of our family traveling so often."

"You can't blame yourself for what's happened," Y/n rests a hand on her uncle's shoulder, reverting to her mother tongue, "Women die of childbirth every day, our mothers were no exception. Laena was strong and determined to die a dragonrider's death, which she succeeded."

Daemon briefly looks down and then looks off to the side. Y/n follows his gaze and spots her father across the yard, eyeing the two of them before turning away and speaking with Corlys Velaryon. Lyonel Strong is standing beside the King, with young Baelor weaving between his two grandfathers, unbothered. Y/n looks back at her uncle and whispers in his ear in the common tongue, "Speak with him. He misses you."

She pulls away and gives Daemon his space, carefully hobbling over to her usual social circles. Harwin has a chair waiting for her as their friends and family are gathered around it. Harwin holds Y/n's hand to steady her as she sits, gratefully taking a drink from a servant girl. Osmund approached his mother once she was settled and she immediately grabs his hand with an encouraging smile.

"Why don't you go and see to your cousins, hm?" Y/n gently squeezed her son's smaller hand, her thumb tracing shapes in his skin, "They've lost their mother. They could use a kind word."

Osmund looked as though he was ready to pout and whine until he glanced up at his father. One stern look from Harwin and the little lord sighs and nods obediently, leaning over and kissing his mother's cheek before walking away to find Rhaena and Baela.

Rhaenyra watches her nephew walk off, a cup of wine in her hands, "Is he ill-tempered?"

"Not usually. It's been a long journey to Driftmark and he was sad he couldn't fly here. It's also the first time he's ever experienced loss. I don't think he knows how to properly react yet," Y/n absently rubs her stomach, playfully smiling up at her husband, "He does get his might from his father though."

"As one could expect from the son of Ser Breakbones," Rhaenyra chimes in with amusement as she now watches her sister's movements, "So for names, have you decided on any?"

"A few," Harwin answered from his stance behind his wife's chair, "If the maesters were mistaken and it is a boy, we want to name him Viserys," Rhaenyra smiles as he continued, "If it's a girl... we're still deciding on just one."

"We've been going back and forth," Y/n sighs, exhausted by the memory alone, "Alysanne, Alyssa, Nymeria, Visenya and... and Aemma."

Rhaenyra pauses mid-sip, slowly pulling the goblet away from her lips when she found she couldn't swallow, eyes blinking rapidly as she wordlessly gripped Y/n's shoulder. Neither sister said a word, but they understood each other all the same. Rhaenyra pardons herself, deciding she needed fresh air away from the crowds. Once she caught sight of Daemon leaving the gathering, she makes up her mind and sends her sons to bed before she, too, disappeared from the public eye.

Y/n watched her sister leave with her uncle and chose to ignore it, smiling and acknowledging the King when he slowly made his way to her after bidding the Queen goodnight.

"My child," Viserys took his daughter's hand and kissed it, "I'm retiring for the night. Do try and get some rest before the return journey."

"Yes, Father. If it is my king's wish."

Viserys smiles and nods to Harwin before exiting. Eventually, Princess Rhaenys walks up to the couple after consoling her granddaughters, and Harwin offers her a seat beside Y/n. Rhaenys accepts and leans close to her distant cousin while overlooking the crowd.

"I had hoped for your baby to be born by the time this gathering happened," the elder woman admits, "I had hoped new life would've outshined the loss of an older one."

"Laena was still young," Y/n held onto Rhaenys' arm, "And strong-willed. I would rather have people remember her life today instead of celebrating the birth of my child. Laena deserves that. I'm so... I'm so sorry, Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaenys only nods, unable to allow herself tears in a public setting, keeping her eyes fixed on Y/n's hand on her arm for a focus point, "No parent should outlive their child."

"And yet, we all wish for our mothers to be with us for the rest of our lives," Y/n looks off, heart-clenching, "I wish my mother got to grow old. I wish she got to meet her grandchildren and die fat and happy... But I wouldn't wish that for myself if it meant your granddaughters got to have their mother back. I wouldn't wish for Rhaena and Baela to go through the same loss I went through when I was their age. I wouldn't wish that for my sons or my nephews."

Rhaenys stands, feeling the emotions threatening to spill from her eyes and she couldn't bear to cause a scene. She squeezes Y/n's shoulder, nodding in thanks when the words couldn't come out, and then she left. A few hours pass and then both Harwin and Y/n round up their boys and bring them to their beds. Once their children are asleep, the parents turn in for the night as well, hearts heavy and exhausted.

Harwin had been quiet during most of the interactions at the gathering, but his thoughts were loud in his actions. While helping his wife undress, he couldn't help but kiss her bare shoulder and let his hands linger around her stomach, storms brewing in his eyes, "Years ago, I couldn't understand why your father was so... broken after the loss of your mother and brother. But now... as your husband and father to our boys... I can't even fathom what I would do if that were you in your mother's place."

Y/n quietly hushes Harwin as she turned to face him, letting her fingers graze over his beard, "It happens to women all the time, my love. It cannot be helped. You can't fight your way out of that. My mother used to say that a woman's battlefield is the birthing bed, and unfortunately, it's not a battle you can fight for me."

Harwin nods despite the look of defeat in his eyes. He had always been a man of action, able to protect those he loves with his might. However, Ser Breakbones always felt helpless whenever his wife goes through pregnancy. He felt useless and the only thing he could do was continue to be a husband and father, but not a soldier. Up until now, his family didn't need him to be a soldier.

The two of them go to bed, held in each others' arms as the moon moves slowly overhead and commanding the unforgivable waves to crash against the rocky cliffs outside the keep. It was soothing to listen to as sleep overtook the tired pair, more soothing than the sounds of King's Landing at night. It was easy to drift into dreams when a beautiful place such as Driftmark was so peaceful and quiet.

That is until a frantic knock is heard pounding on their bedroom door hours later, rudely awakening Harwin and Y/n from their slumber. Harwin crawls out of bed and walks to the door, "Who is it?"

"Harrold Westerling, Ser Harwin."

Y/n sits up in bed, alarmed as both she and Harwin exchange a worried expression. Harwin helps her stand up and throw a dark red robe over her nightgown before they beckon the Commander of the Kingsguard inside. The old man throws the heavy door open, straightening his posture and bowing in Y/n's presence as she addressed him.

"Ser Harrold, what seems to be the matter?"

"Forgive me for the late hour, Princess," Harrold appeared out of breath and possibly even horrified, further worrying the Strongs, "But there has been an accident and your sons are waiting for you in the Great Hall."

Neither of them questions it, both parents racing out of the room with Ser Harrold closely following them. They weave through the hallways of the dark keep, barely seeing a soul awake until they burst into the doors leading into the Great Hall.

Most of the souls that were once sleeping under the roof of the keep were all gathered in this one room, the lights of torches and the blazing fireplaces dancing over everyone's grave faces. Y/n first spots silver hair and finds Rhaenyra and Daemon, standing together off to the side and holding onto Osmund and Baelor. Both Y/n and Harwin run to their sons and gather the boys in their arms, worry filling their voices as they question why both of them had blood on their little faces.

"Ozzy, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Are you hurt? Let me see it, son."

"Why is your nose bleeding?"

"Tell us what happened, Bae."

Poor little Baelor was crying too hard to get a word out, clinging onto his mother's skirts like a lifeline even as his father was kneeling beside him and examining the bloodied and bruised knuckles on his tiny left hand. Osmund looked angry and defiant, a cut cracked over the bridge of his nose and bleeding along with his flaring nostrils as his mother's hands trail over his injured face. Finally looking around at the rest of the crowd, Y/n noticed Viserys and Alicent on the other side of the room, the Queen kneeling beside the maester as he tended to Young Aemond, the prince sitting beside the fireplace with half of his face stitched up. Rhaena and Baela were also present and bleeding from their faces, hugging either side of their Grandmother Rhaenys' waist and Corlys stands protectively in front of them. A few faces were missing from this picture, such as Laenor and his sons, but Rhaenyra doesn't acknowledge this as she stands close to her sister and answers her questions.

"The children were fighting each other. A knife was drawn--"

"Your son took my son's eye!" Alicent proclaimed hysterically, unshed tears in her manic eyes as she stood up and stepped toward the center of the room.

Y/n's eyes widen and looked down at her oldest child, "Ozzy?"

"Aemond stole and claimed Vhagar," Osmund explained, "He said horrible things about Aunt Laena when we all confronted him."

"She attacked me!" Aemond snarled as he pointed at Baela, thus starting a chain of children arguing over each other.

"He attacked Baela!"

"You insulted our mother!"

"He broke Ozzy's nose!"

"He stole my dragon!"

"He could've killed me!"

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent roared.

"He was only defending himself!"

"He could've killed Baelor!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Silence!" Viserys demanded, slamming his cane down against the cobblestone floor, "I am your king and I will have the truth of what happened! Who drew the blade?!"

"It was mine," Osmund admits, hanging his head when all eyes turned to him, "I drew it when I thought Aemond was going to kill Bae."

"He wouldn't stop hitting me," Baelor whimpered into his mother's swollen belly, thus shattering Y/n's heart and angering Harwin's as he stood, placing himself between the royal family and his own with a stern glare.

"Let me see the knife."

Ser Harrold brought the weapon forward as evidence but wasn't stupid enough to just hand it over to Harwin. Ser Breakbones noticed the knife and nodded, looking back at Princess Y/n, "It's the one I gave him."

"But Osmund didn't cut Aemond!" Baela yelled to her cousin's defense, "It was--"

Her voice dies once she noticed something in Osmund's eyes and Rhaena elbowed her. Y/n caught this exchange and gently pinched her older boy's chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Osmund Strong. Did you or did you not attack Prince Aemond with a knife?"

Osmund's throat bobbed nervously, eyes trying to focus on anything other than his mother's gaze. Y/n found this bizarre, considering that he had been honest with her until now. Then, realization began to dawn on the princess as she slowly looked down onto a different child, not Osmund. All eyes follow her gaze until they all land on Little Baelor. Y/n's other hand ran through her baby boy's hair.

"Bae... was it you?"

Baelor continued to sob, shaking from head to toe, "Aemond grabbed a rock! He was gonna hurt Ozzy!"

"I lost the knife," Osmund finally admitted, trying to keep everyone's attention away from his little brother, "And I got pushed to the ground, but it wasn't Baelor's fault! He took the knife to protect me!"

Alicent scowled in disgust, "And so you cut Aemond's face--"

"Your son was hitting my baby boy!" Y/n screamed back, beyond all of the Queen's slander.

"Seven Hells, Your Grace, he's only five years old!" Harwin came to his family's defense.

"And yet he's capable of spilling my son's blood!"

"Is this what you condone, my Queen?" Y/n's voice drops, a clear tone of challenge, "To have your son, a prince, attack little girls when they defend their mother's name?"

"Your sons attacked mine!"

"To defend their cousins," Y/n reminds her and the rest of those in the room, "Surely you wouldn't raise your son to believe he could do whatever he wanted just because he's royalty. Surely, the good Queen herself wouldn't teach her children to mistreat women or smash a little boy's head in with a rock."

Alicent is momentarily struck by the mockery, quickly recovering with a small scoff, her top lip twitching, "Are you questioning how I parent my children, Princess?"

"I am not questioning your parenting, Your Grace. I'm denying its existence."

Daemon grins proudly at his niece as the room is filled with gasps of dismay, clearly being the only one amused by Y/n's retort. Alicent's face crumbled as though someone had just smacked her in the face. With the tension straining, Harwin stood closer to his wife and children, his arm hovering over Y/n's back as Viserys clicked his cane upon the floor.

"Enough, Y/n. Trading insults won't change what happened. Aemond, tell me the truth, boy," the King slowly limps over to the bloodied prince, "Did you hit Lady Baela?"

Aemond looked as though he had been caught red-handed, pale, and stubborn. Slowly, he grits out his answer, "Yes. After she hit me."

"Liar!"

"Silence!" Viserys roared before glaring back down at his son, "Aemond, did you grab a rock?"

"To defend myself!"

"I was already on the ground, you idiot!" Osmund snapped, spitting out blood and saliva.

"Osmund!" Y/n reprimands her son, tightly holding his shoulder as Harwin reverts his gaze onto the boy.

"Hold your tongue, son."

"But no one was attacking him by then! We were all on the ground!"

"It's true!"

"Silence!" Viserys slammed his cane again.

"This was clearly just an act of self-defense, Your Grace," Y/n bravely continued her defense of her children, against her father's order.

"All of this... over an insult," Alicent huffs out a breath of disbelief with her eyes rimmed with tears, "My son has lost an eye."

Viserys, distressed, tired, and angry, nearly threw his arms around like a child having a tantrum, "This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!"

The whole room froze, shocked with disbelief. Alicent appeared appalled as her husband slowly limped past her towards the door. Y/n witnessed something snap within the Hightower woman as she spoke, "That is insufficient."

Viserys slowly turns around to face her as the Queen continued, "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken."

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid," the sentence alone sent a chill down Y/n's back, eyes dancing between her father and stepmother. Viserys stared at his wife in disbelief as the Queen strongly proclaimed, "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Murmurs and gasps of horror filled the room; Harwin and Y/n's grip on their sons tighten protectively. Viserys tried to calm Alicent, wanting to defuse the situation, "My dear wife--"

"He is your son, Viserys," Alicent cried, the tears finally spilling, "Your blood."

"Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment."

Silence fell again and Viserys thought it was over. He turns to leave just as his wife spoke again, her tear-stained face straightening up as her eyes turn to another man in the room, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Baelor Strong."

Criston Cole's eyes scan the room as Baelor begins to step back away from the crowd and from his parents, distraught and terrified as he spoke in his small, innocent voice, "Mother!"

"Alicent..." Viserys warned.

"He can choose which eye to keep. A privilege he did not grant my son!" Alicent snapped back while glaring down at the offending family.

"You will do no such thing." Y/n sternly stated, willing her voice not to shake in fear, but to be as powerful as the Queen's own demand.

"Stay your hand!" Viserys snaps to Ser Criston, to which Alicent pushes back.

"No, you are sworn to me!"

Ser Criston feels the eyes of Ser Harrold on him and finds his words, avoiding Alicent's gaze, "As your protector, my Queen."

Alicent reared back in betrayal, barely flinching as Viserys stepped up to her in challenge, "Alicent. This matter... is finished. Do you understand?"

She scans his face, unable to form a reply as he spins around and tries to meet the gaze of everyone else in the room, "And let it be known! No more fighting shall be done within the blood of my own family."

Y/n relaxed, her voice dropping its firm hold as she gently addressed the King, "Thank you, Father."

Both she and Harwin turn back to their sons, the father beckoning the boys to follow him as he tried leading his family away. The boys go to follow Harwin, still shaking in fear, while Y/n takes her time to follow, her hand gingerly caressing her stomach.

Viserys takes one more look at Alicent before turning back towards the door. He doesn't feel alarmed at the sound of her feet quickly following him, but it's not until he felt the empty space of his Valyrian dagger at his belt did his heart suddenly sink to his stomach.

Ser Harrold is the first to react, stepping towards the King, "Your Grace-!"

"Alicent!" Viserys spins back around, watching his wife's auburn hair disappear into the crowd with his dagger in hand.

Harrold sprints forward, shouting commands to his guards without turning back, "Stay with the King!"

"Hold your approach!" Criston Cole demands against his commander's wishes.

Others began to scream and shout a warning to others, pulling away and giving Alicent a wide berth with her newly acquired weapon. Y/n felt the hairs on the back of her neck before she heard the shouts of the Kingsguard along with her father's voice shouting Alicent's name. Spinning around, Y/n is met with a vengeful queen, Alicent screaming as she brought the raised dagger down on the princess.

Harwin spun around as the chaos began to rise, eyes widening as he immediately takes a large step forward, "Y/n, LOOK OUT!"

Y/n's arm rises and she's able to catch the arm Alicent held the blade in, trying to push the other woman away but they had both taken hold of each other's arms, pushing and pulling against each other, grunting under the weight of the force.

Harwin jolts forward in order to interfere, heart racing in fear and rage. Lord Lyonel steps in front of his son, however, forcing Harwin back just as the blade came down and Y/n had caught it, "No, son! Do not incriminate yourself!"

"Y/n!" Harwin yelled, struggling against his father. He was definitely strong enough to push Lyonel away, easily, hadn't two Kingsguard stepped forward and held onto Ser Breakbones.

It was pure chaos. Kingsguard held swords out to those who dared try to come to Y/n's aid, conflicted with their duties but wanting to protect their Queen if it meant letting her pursue the princess. Ser Harrold was easily just as conflicted, not knowing who he should order his men to protect as he tried pushing through the crowd. He makes it to the two women, but with his mind not yet made up, he instead circles them and pushes lords, ladies, and other soldiers back if they tried to step forward.

Harrold sees someone rushing forward and holds his arm out to them, "Do not, Ser Criston!"

"Alicent!" Viserys roared, but couldn't move much as he stumbled with his cane.

Baelor screams in terror as everyone who formed a circle around his mother and Alicent pushed him back as they grant the women space. Harrold tried yelling over the chaos as others also screamed in fear and protest, all trying to outscream the other.

"Do not, Ser Criston!"

Criston Cole, fierce and determined, tries getting into the circle, perhaps wanting to perform his duty and protect his queen. He pushes people away to get to Alicent and Y/n, but Daemon suddenly steps forward and is able to stop the knight in his tracks, keeping him in place as the two men glared at one another until two other Kingsguard took Criston by the arms.

"Alicent!"

"No!" Harwin shouts, desperately struggling against his bonds and giving the Kingsguard a workout in restraining him.

Rhaenys keeps her granddaughters behind her while she made a grab for Osmund and Baelor, pulling the boys to her body while Corlys shields them all behind him. Rhaenyra is left open and tries to make it to her sister, but Ser Harrold grabs her gently and keeps her back while simultaneously trying to get a hold of his men, "Stay your hand, Cole!"

Rhaenyra struggles against Ser Harrold's hold on her, shouting over at the Queen, "You've gone too far, Alicent!"

"I?" Alicent questions in distress, still fighting for control against Y/n while speaking between the two sisters, distraught and unhinged, "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you and your sister flout all to do as you please!"

"Alicent, let her go!" Viserys demanded from outside the circle.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent's tears continued to fall down her face as her eyes search Y/n's while she screamed, "It's trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent," Rhaenyra demanded.

Alicent desperately tried to breathe, panting under Y/n's strength and her own despair, "And now you take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Y/n grunts, a jolt of pain running through her as she desperately tried to keep the point of the blade from her own eye, the flames of the fireplace dancing over the steel and her eyes, "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness."

Her voice lowers, glare dead set on Alicent's face, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent pushes all her body weight and any strength she had left into pulling her arm out of Y/n's hold, grunting in rage as she freed the blade and made a swipe at the princess. Shock settles the room, Alicent stepping away to observe her handiwork, only for her eyes to immediately widen once she finally settled on what she had done.

Y/n had taken several steps away, the pain not entirely making itself aware until she heard gasps from all around. Corlys had caught her by the shoulders to steady the princess, noticing the way she was unconsciously clutching her arm. Both of them look down at the offending arm, noticing the blood soaking through Y/n's dress sleeve and spilling through her fingers. The blood droplets splatter onto the floor as Viserys stands beside Alicent, watching in horror as his little girl bleeds because of a wound his own wife inflicted. In her shock, Alicent's grip on the dagger loosens and the blade clatters to the floor, paying no mind to it as all she could do was stare at the cut in Y/n's arm.

Harwin had paused in terror before finally realizing that Y/n was still standing and breathing, the blade now out of danger. Shock draining from him, he pushes the Kingsguard off of him, the two soldiers too stunned to react and let go of him. Harwin pushes past his father and rushes to his wife, gathering her up in his arms and holding onto her wrist so that Corlys could properly inspect the wound from the other side of her. Y/n doesn't speak or react to her husband's hold on her, too stunned to do anything but stand and stare, leaning into Harwin for support. Both Osmund and Baelor break away from Rhaenys and run to their parents, holding onto their mother for dear life. With Criston Cole backing off, Daemon slowly walks forward until he is at Harwin's side, his hand on one of Osmund's shoulders. Rhaenyra pushes Ser Harrold away from her and also joins the Strong family along with Daemon and Corlys, the princess stepping in front of her sister and inspecting Y/n's face and then her wound. Watching as the blood continued to flow, Rhaenyra's posture slowly straightened, the rage of a dragon and a protective older sister taking hold. Unable to calm her anger, Rhaenyra breathes harshly through her nose and spun back around, glaring daggers at Alicent.

"You dare attack my sister!"

The room felt cold, despite the fire blazing hot beside the opposing families. Alicent couldn't bear to look Rhaenyra in the eye, so the princess moves her gaze onto her father, "Your Grace, I beg of you to open your eyes. Your wife just attacked one of your daughters born of our mother and of true Valyrian blood. She meant to bring harm to the princess and her unborn child."

Viserys eyes move to watch Y/n and her family tend to her, sadness and longing evident on his face as Rhaenyra bravely continued, "I am your heir, Your Grace," Viserys looks back to his eldest child, "But should anything happen to me, Y/n would take my place. Therefore, this attack on my sister is a treasonous act against the crown and your bloodline! If you are the honorable king that holds those who commit treason accountable... then no exception can be made for anyone of any station if you value your family and inspiring your loyal subjects."

Y/n slowly begins to come back to her senses, feeling the warm blood run down her arm and another warm liquid run down her legs. She pales as she tried focusing on the sound of Viserys' voice, trying not to panic, "It was a foolish action, Rhaenyra. But even you, as a mother, understand what it's like to protect your children. Alicent was only trying to avenge hers."

"By what? Killing my sister?" Rhaenyra's voice broke, eyes slowly starting to mist, "Carving out the child she carries?" Viserys flinched at that, "What happened to Prince Aemond's eye was a tragic accident. But this... this was intentional. Queen Alicent intended on spilling blood."

Rhaenyra hears a small cry of a kitten behind her, but upon spinning back around, she only saw Y/n clutching her stomach and slowly bending over, soft cries escaping her lips, and the men surrounding her bent down to the princess in confusion. Rhaenyra's eyes widen when she noticed a clear puddle beneath Y/n's skirts slowly pooling against the cobblestone to mix with the blood. Rhaenyra rushes towards her sister, forgetting Viserys and Alicent.

"Y/n?" Harwin's stomach dropped as the wheels began to turn in his head, eyes widening in realization.

"Mother? What's wrong?" Osmund asked innocently, holding onto his little brother.

"She's started her labors," Rhaenyra explains while letting her sister grip her arms tightly, "I wouldn't be surprised if the harrowing events of tonight spurred this on."

Daemon stood back from the group aiding Y/n, keeping a hand on his sword and an eye on anyone who may take this opportunity to pursue his family in a time of vulnerability. He stands guard while Rhaenyra and Harwin frantically help Y/n stand straight again, holding onto both of her arms. They wordlessly follow Corlys as he leads them out of the room and down the hall, back to Y/n and Harwin's chambers. Rhaenys thought it best to take Rhaena and Baela to Jacaerys and Lucerys' quarters where they were no doubt still sleeping through all of this. The older princess beckons the Strong boys to follow so that she might keep an eye on all of the children, unconsciously -or perhaps not- leaving the royal children out. When neither of Y/n and Harwin's sons moves, Daemon takes them both by the shoulder and directs them to follow Rhaenys, the Rogue Prince becoming a protective shadow for the children as Rhaenys whisks them away.

Corlys opens the doors to Harwin and Y/n's chamber and the Targaryen princess is brought inside, the Sea Snake calling for the maester along with the midwives who had traveled with the royal company. Rhaenyra and Harwin help Y/n get comfortable as another wave of pain takes over, the hair near her face beginning to stick to her skin as she tried taking deep breaths, exhaling shakily.

"I will stay with her, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra vowed while dabbing a cool cloth over her sister's forehead, "You may go."

"I'm staying here," Harwin states confidently.

Y/n quickly grabs his hand through a contraction, squeezing hard as she pushes out words, "No no no, you need to go stay with the boys. We can't trust anyone with our sons for as long as we stay here."

"Y/n--"

"Alicent just threatened to pluck out Baelor's eye and attacked me," Harwin tried not to look, but clearly there was still blood seeping out of the cut on Y/n's arm. Y/n appeared to ignore this, trying to catch her breath, "I don't want my sons left alone for even a second until we leave. Harwin, please, go protect the boys. There's nothing you can do for me now."

Dutifully, he nods, standing over his wife and lingering a kiss on the top of her head before slowly backing away and leaving the room, practically forcing himself not to turn back as he goes hunting down his children.

A maester arrives and first looks into fixing the cut on Y/n's arm while the midwives attend to prepping for the baby, hurrying around the room in search of fresh clean towels and Milk of the Poppy. As promised, Rhaenyra stayed by her sister's side during the whole process, letting Y/n squeeze her hand as hard as she liked, whispering soft words of encouragement, and dabbing her face with a cool cloth.

For obvious reasons, Y/n didn't get any sleep that night, but neither could anyone else in the keep. Everyone was restless, even those unaware of Y/n's labors. After the events of the night, everyone was high-strung and uneasy, and some were downright afraid. Alicent returned to her chambers, never wanting to see a soul until morning. Viserys went to bed, but lay awake at night, guilt and remorse running through his veins. The royal children retired to their respective rooms, but they all stayed awake and Aemond even sat at the window, watching Vhagar in the distance with a smirk.

Daemon, Harwin, and Rhaenys continued to stay and entertain the children, tending to their bleeding faces and trying to make them forget their worries. Jace and Luke, none the wiser for what had happened, gladly entertained the idea of everyone staying up and having fun in their rooms, putting a smile on everyone's faces as they ran around and played. Daemon even found himself teaching all the children small bits of High Valyrian, boys and girls alike sitting down all around him with Baelor and a book in his lap. Baela sat next to her father, her head on his shoulder, trying to rest her eyes after everything that had happened to her today, the only one too exhausted to repeat her father's Valyrian phrases unlike the rest of the children.

Rhaenys sat and quietly listened to these lessons with a cup of wine in hand, while Harwin stood at the door, sometimes pacing, sometimes entertaining the children with stories. But not once, the entire night, did he leave his post at the door, his hand always on his hilt.

The moon had not yet disappeared but the sky was starting to brighten into beautiful colors over the ocean when the door opens and Harwin held onto his sword a little tighter. Everyone looks up with bated breath as Rhaenyra walks in, standing tall and regal as if she had not been awake all night.

"Mother!" Luke gasped excitedly while standing up and running to the princess.

She practically beams as he tightly hugged her waist, her eyes darting up to Harwin with delight, "Y/n's delivered a girl, and they're both going to be fine."

The whole room relaxes with relief, the last of the tension finally leaving the air and leaving them all understandably exhausted. Harwin's whole stiff posture relaxes as one of his hands rises to rub his face. Rhaenyra silently laughs, joy still evident on her expression, "The maester asks for only you to go and see her. Your sons can visit their mother once she's rested."

Harwin nods and swiftly leaves the room, while Rhaenyra turns to the rest of the family, "The royal family leaves Driftmark today, but with your permission, Princess Rhaenys, I think it would be wise if the rest of us stayed a little longer for Y/n and everyone else to get some much-needed rest."

Rhaenys agrees just as Laenor pops into the room, disheveled and groggy. He looks at everyone's expression with a puzzled look, finally turning to Rhaenyra, "What have I missed?"

Harwin makes it back to his chambers in record speed, trying not to appear hasty but also anxious to see his wife and their new daughter. Entering the room, a few of the midwives were cleaning up and leaving, the maester long since gone. Y/n was asleep in their bed, flushed with her silver-blonde hair curling around her head due to sweat, but a small bundle was nestled beside her, and it was squirming. Harwin stepped closer to the bed, making note of Y/n's arm now wrapped in bandages before inspecting the bundle of blankets, his smile softening by what he found.

The infant was small, her little cleaned face the only thing peeking out of the blankets aside from her tiny fingers slowly curling around the fabric as she slept. Like her brothers, she sported small fuzzy tufts of dark hair and even darker eyelashes. The baby girl's lips were slightly open, letting out soft hums as she dreamed. Harwin's heart had never fallen in love faster than it did at this very moment, his finger lightly caressing her cheek and amazed by the softness of her skin.

"My love."

Harwin's eyes drift over to his once slumbering wife, noticing her eyes have opened and she was tiredly smiling up at him. Overcome by relief and happiness, Harwin laughs under his breath before leaning over and kissing Y/n on the lips, taking her breath away. Eventually, he pulled away, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

"Amazing as always, my dear," he whispers, unable to resist kissing her forehead, "How are you?"

Y/n slowly blinks, humming, "Exhausted."

"You can rest. I say you've more than earned it."

Her eyes peek open again, "The boys?"

"Safe and sound. They are in good hands. Rhaenyra will bring them to you once you've healed," his hand grazes over her bandaged arm, "What did the maester say about this?"

"It was Valyrian steel. So the cut was clean. A scar will remain, I'm afraid."

"I will take a new scar over your death any day," Harwin kissed his wife's forehead again before carefully lifting the small bundle into his arms, attempting not to wake the baby. His smile widens once he's positioned her properly and naturally begins to rock, "Well, she's finally here. Have you thought about the names we picked?"

"I did... but none of them seem right now that I've met her."

"Well, do you have another one in mind?"

Y/n thought long and hard, fingers drumming against the feather pillow. She thought about tonight's events, how it had all started with Vhagar being stolen and Laena's memory insulted. To have those two things happen along with the attack in the Great Hall, it felt as though people had tainted the memory of a young and fierce woman who was taken from this world too soon.

"Laena," Y/n strongly announced, "I like to believe she was here with us this past night. I like to believe she protected us and she deserves to be honored now that I've delivered my daughter in her family's home."

Harwin stared down at their daughter, playing with the name on his lips as he watched her sleep, "Laena Strong. I like it."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Osmund was named after King Aegon I Targaryen’s Hand, Osmund Strong, who was assigned the Hand of the King after Orys Baratheon’s death. Baelor was named to reference Baelor the Blessed/Beloved, but it’s obviously not him since the original Baelor won’t be born until after the Dance of Dragons. Laena is obviously named after Vhagar’s true rider, aside from Visenya. I would have named Y/n’s daughter after Visenya, but spoiler alert, Daemon and Rhaenyra eventually have a daughter already named that. She’s probably the baby in Rhaenyra’s belly in Episode 8.

[sara-scribbles]

The Littlest Dragon (Part 3)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 5,482 Notes: So, I wrote this with the idea that there's still room to grow in regards to relationships. This is the last part, so enjoy! Warnings: None

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“I’ll let my grandson show you around. But we must have tea tomorrow.” With a wave of her hand, she dismisses the two of you.

You follow Malleus through the rose garden. “Is she…is she always like that?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.

He takes your hand as he answers. “She can be…eccentric. She’s a wise and kind ruler, but grandmother has always had her own ways of doing things.”

There are many twists and turns to the rose garden. “She wasn’t serious, right?” He raises an eyebrow. “That I should call her grandmother?”

“Once she’s made up her mind, it’s best to just go along with it.” He holds your hand gently. “Don’t worry. She likes you almost as much as I do.”

“She called me adorable…” you mumble. Perhaps she sees you as a cute little human. Though you can only assume everyone looks little to her. She even towers over Malleus.

Malleus chuckles. “Do you take offense to that?”

“No… I just haven’t been called adorable before.” Shaking your head, you shift the conversation to the roses. “These are beautiful. There’s so many too!”

Pausing, he reaches out to gently touch a rose. “Can you believe these started out as a handful of seeds? I’ve taken care of them for so long, I almost forget how barren the garden used to be.”

“You did all this?” Eyebrows shoot up. “That’s amazing! I can’t imagine the time and dedication this would take.”

Turning to you, he asks, “Do you like roses?”

“Sure. I think they’re beautiful .” Shrugging, you reach out to touch a rose. The petals are like velvet against your fingers.

“Do you have a particular flower you like?” he probes further.

The entire garden smells of the soft rose scent. “Not really. I mean I’ve never given it much thought. There are so many flowers, how can I pick just one?”

“Hmm… I see.” He thoughtfully looks at the roses. Finally he turns back to you. “Shall I show you the rest of the castle?”

“Lead the way!” Giving his hand a squeeze, you meet his affectionate gaze with a dazzling grin.

---

Standing in the guest room alone, your eyes are still wide with shock. The place is much larger than your own cottage. You're pretty sure you could fit five cottages in the room. After Malleus had shown you around the castle, complete with the history, he dropped you off at the guest room. He promised to let you know when dinner would be served.

Feeling completely out of depth, you wonder if you’ve packed the right clothes to have dinner in a castle. Probably not. You’re almost too afraid to touch anything in case you break something. However, the large bed looks so inviting, you can’t resist.

Kicking off your shoes, you launch yourself onto the bed with a laugh. The moment your body touches the sheets, you never want to get up. The silky sheets and soft mattress is heaven on earth. Letting out a deep sigh, you’re tempted to fall asleep.

But first, you need to unpack and get into something for dinner.

You’re changed when someone knocks on the door. When you open the door, you’re not met with Malleus. Instead, a fae with magenta streaks in his dark black hair smiles back at you. “Hoho, I finally get to meet the famous potion master!” he chortles.

“Uh…”

“I’m Lilia, Malleus’s caretaker of sorts.” He heartily shakes your hand. “Well, let’s get going. Don’t want to leave the queen waiting.”

As you follow him through the halls, you ask, “So you’ve been taking care of Malleus since he was young?”

“That’s right! I remember like it was yesterday when he had an egg shell stuck on his face.” He briefly touches the tips of his hair. “You know, once he set my hair on fire by accident.”

“Really?” It’s hard to imagine him doing anything like that.

He leads you down a flight of stairs. “He was young, so he didn’t have much control over himself. I’ll have to show you some pictures later if you’re interested.”

The idea of seeing pictures of a baby Malleus does pique your interest. “I’d like to.”

“Wonderful!” Clapping his hands together, he stops in front of a door. “I have to go get Mallues, but enjoy your chat with the queen.”

“W-wait! Alone?” He’s gone before you can protest. Standing in front of the door, you wonder if you can just sneak off for a bit until Malleus comes. You’re not prepared to speak with her alone.

“Please come in, (Y/N).” Her voice rings loud and clear despite the closed door.

Swallowing nervously, you slip inside. The queen sits at the head of the very long banquet table. You notice some fae standing off to the side. One directs you to the seat on her left. The seat to her right is set but empty.

She smiles widely when you meet her gaze. “I thought we could talk while Lilia fetches my grandson. The palace is quite large, so it might take them some time. You don’t mind, do you?”

You feel heat prickling along your neck. “O-of course no-not, your highness.” She gives you a sharp look. “...grandmother.” 

A pleased smile falls on her lips. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Myself?” You uselessly point to yourself.

She nods. “Yes. My grandson has told me all about you. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Um, well… I run make potions for clients who send requests. I also sell them in town to the general store. I was taught to make potions by Divus Crewel. Uh, I live in a cottage outside of town with three chickens and a goat.”

She drums her fingers on the table. You notice the wicked looking nails. “Tell me, do you enjoy making potions?”

“Yes, I do.” You answer without hesitation.

Her keen eyes watch you closely. “Why?

You blink a few times. It’s been awhile since someone’s asked you that question. “ I know those without magic can have fine lives, but I wanted to do more. I decided that if I can’t cast spells, I wanted to make potions. For me, making potions is like casting a spell, it can do just about anything. And if what I create can help someone, that’s even better.”

She regards you quietly. You’re unsure what else to say. “I see. Your honesty is refreshing. I was half expecting you to spout some noble reason. My grandson has chosen well. You have a good heart, I can tell.”

“Th-thank you.” Her praise is honestly a little embarrassing.

She sighs. “Seems our little chat has to be cut short.” The doors to the dining hall open, and Malleus strolls in. He glances between you and his grandmother. “Malleus, we’ve been waiting for you.”

His eyes narrow. “Lilia informed me dinner was running behind…”

She feigns ignorance. “Really? Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”

He takes the seat across from you. “I hope grandmother wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” His gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Nonsense! I was just telling your friend how wonderful I think they are.” She grins, flashing her sharp teeth.

You give him a small reassuring smile. There’s not much else you can say as the food quickly arrives.

“Do you always eat like that?” you ask Malleus. You're almost close to bursting. Everything was delicious of course, but by the time dessert arrived, you were ready to pass out.

After bidding the queen a goodnight, the two of you leave the dining hall. With your arm looped through his, Malleus guides you back to the garden. “Tonight was a special occasion, so the cooks made a little extra.”

“A little?” You don’t want to imagine what a lot would look like. “Hey, where are we going?”

Though dark, magical lamps float around to light to way. “I wanted to show you my favorite spot.”

The air is cool but pleasant. You’re not too concerned about where Malleus is taking you. You trust him. Winding through the garden, the bright moon shines a spotlight. It almost feels magical. Malleus leads you out of the garden bounds and deeper into the woods that surround this side of the castle. Everything here is overgrown and wild. You come to a clearing with a large, clear lake.

In the distance the crickets chirp and frogs call to each other. The moon reflects on the lake making the water glimmer. “Wow…” You’re in awe at the natural wonder. 

Sitting at the edge of the lake together, your feet hang off the edge. “It’s been abandoned for years, so no one comes.”

You find yourself leaning into his side. “Do you come here a lot?”

“It’s quiet and peaceful.” Sitting there staring at the lake, you can almost forget everything else. Malleus hums a tune under his breath.

The yawn you’ve been trying to suppress manages to escape. He chuckles. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Shall we return to the castle?” Nodding, you take his offered hand.

---

The next day, you’re woken with knocking. Lilia is there once more with a bright smile. “The queen would like to have breakfast with you.”

“Oh, okay. Um, let me get dressed.” You wonder how early, or late, it is. You slept like a rock.

Once you’re properly dressed, you meet Lilia outside the room. He leads you to the garden, easily navigating the castle’s twists and turns. “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asks.

“Yes. It was all very delicious!” Your stomach grumbles at the thought of breakfast.

“You should try my cooking one of these days. I’d love to share a meal,” he offers. His eyes seem to glimmer at the idea.

Nodding, you offer him a tentative smile. “That would be nice.”

His smile widens. “I’ll hold you to that!”

You arrive in the garden where the queen waits. She greets you the moment you arrive. “Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”

Taking a seat, you find yourself trying to straighten your posture. “Yes. Everything was so nice,” you lie. How can you tell her that you barely got any sleep? Even though everything about the bed should have sent you to dream land, you spent most of the night tossing and turning.

She chuckles. “Lovely.” Turning to Lilia, her mouth curls upward. “Please get my grandson, Lilia.”

“Of course, your majesty.” He gives a bow before leaving.

The queen returns her attention to you. “While Lilia fetches Malleus, why don’t we talk some more. I’m sure you have a few questions.”

Fiddling with the napkin in your lap, there are a few things that have been nagging you. “So, I was told the reason Malleus was in that form was because of a punishment?”

“Yes,” she sighs, “sometimes punishments are necessary. He was neglecting his duties as prince and future king. Despite my repeated warnings, he continued to wander off for hours on end.”

“Wasn’t there anything less…extreme you could’ve done?” you ask. “I mean, he did get kidnapped by a demon bird and hurt,” you point out.

She takes a sip of her tea before continuing. “Not to worry, dear, I knew where he was at all times. And if I hadn’t punished him like I did, you wouldn’t be sitting here. That would be such a shame…”

As food is placed on the table, you glance around for Malleus. He still hasn’t arrived. “I guess something good came out of it,” you mumble. You can feel her sharp gaze on you. “…did the spell do anything else?”

She ponders for a moment. “Hmm… It did limit his ability to use magic as well as reduce his cognitive functions to more simple, basic instincts. But nothing else. Of course, his magic was already working on breaking the curse from the inside when you encountered him.”

“Is that why he was so affectionate? He was always asking to be held or cuddled…” you muse aloud. You remember all the times he would cuddle with you or beg for your attention in dragon form. You just thought he was naturally affectionate. However, Malleus as he is now isn’t as touchy though he does like to hold your hand.

The queen laughs, head thrown back. The gold chains in her horns jingle as they shake. “My, that's a site I’d like to see!” She shakes her head as her body shakes. “I can only guess that part of it was due to the spell. However, Malleus is very fond of you, so I believe he wanted to express his feelings in some way..”

Your face warms at her words. It’s odd hearing that from his grandmother, and she seems to approve. Yet, you haven’t really heard the words from Malleus’s mouth. You wonder if you ever will. Or will you continue to stay in this strange not-quite-something limbo?

Her features shift into a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Malleus,” the queen greets. He easily slides into the seat next to you.

“Good morning, grandmother. It seems I’m late for breakfast this time.” He gives her a pointed look, but she ignores it.

She takes another sip of tea. “Perhaps you should go to bed earlier so you’re not late next time?”

He can only sigh.

---

Malleus leads you to the training grounds. As you approach, you can hear the clang of metal. Silver and Sebek are sparring in the ring. You stand at the edge watching them. 

“Why do they train with swords if they can use magic?” you inquire. They both move quickly back and forth.

“Because it’s good to train all muscles, physical and magical,” comes a voice from above you. 

Jumping, you jerkily look up to see Lilia floating upside down. He gives a wave. “Oh! I didn’t see you…” Your heart nearly lept out of your chest.

He descends back down to the ground. “I saw you two coming down the path a while ago. Finally introducing me to your friend, Malleus?” He lightly elbows Malleus in the side.

“Lilia, this is (Y/N).” He gestures between you two. “Lilia has been my caretaker since I was born.”

You shake hands. He has a strong grip for someone his size. “It’s nice to officially be introduced.” Despite his youthful appearance, you wonder, for the third time since meeting him, how old he actually is. If he’s been taking care of Malleus since birth, he must be over a few hundred years old. Your head spins just thinking about it.

“Do you know how to fight?” Lilia asks suddenly.

“No, I never really found the need to. I stay close to the village, the cottage, or the nearby woods.” Life has always been somewhat uneventful. “My two friends know how to fight since they go out adventuring.”

He eyes your form. “Hmmm… I think you could handle a sword. Would you like to learn?”

Eyes widening, you look at Malleus. He looks calm as ever. “I-I never thought about it. Um, maybe?” It wouldn’t hurt to know how to defend yourself.

“Alright. Later, I’ll teach you how to wield a sword.” He points at the two still sparring. “They need to cool down first.”

The two come to a draw. As they wipe the sweat from their forehead, they finally seem to notice you. Sebek immediately rushes over. “Lord Malleus! Forgive me ignorance, I didn't realize you were here!” He bows a few times.

“It’s okay, Sebek. I was just showing (Y/N) around.” He rests a hand on your shoulder. You unconsciously lean into him.

Sebek’s brows knit together as he straightens up. “I see…” You can see him biting his tongue. Probably doesn’t want to yell at you in front of his prince.

Silver joins while handing Sebek a bottle of water. “Stay hydrated.”

You smile brightly. “Hello, Silver,” you greet. He is the nicer of the two.

“Oh, hello, (Y/N).” He gives you a brief nod. “Fath-Lilia, what else are we doing today?”

The shorter fae glances up at the sky. “We’ll take a break for today. I can make lunch!” Both men visibly blanch. You feel Malleus stiffen as the hand on your shoulder briefly tightens. “I promised to make something for (Y/N),” he continues, not noticing the sudden change in demeanor.

Malleus quickly butts in. “Actually, we have plans…”

“What a shame. Next time?” Lilia sighs, shaking his head sadly. “Guess that means more for you two!”

Before you can say anything else, Malleus quickly guides you away. You briefly see the pleading looks from the other two. Once you’re far enough away, Malleus relaxes. “You don’t want to eat Lilia’s food. It can fell even the mightiest of beasts,” he informs you.

“Oh…” You just escaped possible death it seems.

---

Night time falls quickly and you share another meal with the queen. You’re laying in bed staring at the ceiling. Unable to sleep, you roll over on your side. The curtains are drawn back, and you can see the large moon hanging in the sky. It’s strange not making potions or picking up ingredients. You almost feel like you’re wasting time.

There’s a soft knock on the door that has you sitting up. You wait a few seconds and there’s another knock. Slipping out of bed, you open the door a crack to Malleus standing there. “Malleus? Is something wrong?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was wondering if you’d like to talk like we did before?” You can hear the hopeful tinge in his tone.

You fully open the door and gesture for him to come in. “Sure. I couldn’t sleep either actually.” Sitting down on the plush carpet, you lean against the side of the bed. Malleus joins without complaint.

There’s a pause before he asks, “How are you liking your stay so far?”

You grin. “No complaints! The food is delicious, the accommodations are really nice. And I’m enjoying the time I get to spend with you. Your grandmother is also really something.”

“But?” He can see right through you.

Sighing, you lean your head on his shoulder. “But I do miss home. I know I’ve only been away for two days, but I just miss it.”

“I can take you back if you want. I don’t want you to be unhappy here,”he says while reaching for your hand. He laces his finger with yours.

“I’m not unhappy, Malleus. Just a little homesick.” You give his hand a squeeze.

He hums. “I can understand that…”

There’s a heavy silence between you two. You don’t want to leave, but you also can’t shake the feeling of wanting to go home. “Malleus?”

“Hmm?”

You sit up in order to look him fully in the eyes. “Would you like to go back with me for a bit? I know I was supposed to stay here for a week or so, but how about you stay with me for a little? Now that you’re no longer in dragon form, I can take you around town, and you can officially meet my friends.”

“You truly wish to introduce me?” He blinks a few times.

“Of course! I met your friends and family. It’s only fair if you meet mine. I want you to meet them since you’re…you’re special to me, Malleus.”

Lips pulling into a smile, his sharp teeth glint in the moonlight. “Thank you. You are special to me as well.”

---

“Young master, please let me come with you!” Sebek begs. You can see the tears in his eyes.

The next day, Malleus had informed everyone he would be returning home with you. The queen immediately gave her blessing. You’re surprised she’s willing to let him go since he’d technically be neglecting his duties. You do stay for a most of the day before preparing to leave.

Lilia chuckles as he side-steps the prostrating half-fae. “Have fun, you two. Ah, to be young…!” He claps Malleus on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be okay.”

“We look forward to your return,” Silver says with a bow.

The queen leans over and whispers something in his ear. His eyes widen a fraction before he composes himself. She laughs and presses a kiss on the top of his head. “Take care, my dear.”

Malleus gives them one last farewell before walking over to where you’re waiting. He wraps his arms around your form. “Hold on tight.” Even as you’re teleported away, you can hear Sebek’s cries.

Eyes adjusting to the light, you’re standing in front of the gate to the cottage. “I think I’m getting used to that,” you mumble, still trying to clear your head. You can feel Malleus hovering in concern, but quickly reassure him you’re fine. “Well, at least the cottage is still standing…”

Walking through the gate, the three hens are there to greet you. They loudly cluck around your feet. “Hello, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather,” Malleus greets with a slight incline of his head. The three leave you to flock around his feet.

“Seems they like you. Maybe they remember you from before,” you comment with a chuckle.

The door of the cottage opens as Ace steps out. “Oi! Why are you making so much noise-...!” His eyes widen when he sees you. “What are you doing here?!”

“Nice to see you too, Ace,” you comment dryly.

“Ace, don't be mean to the chickens!” Deuce comes rushing out but knocks into Ace. “Ooomf!” He stumbles back a bit before glowing at the redhead. “Hey, wha-...!”

“Hey you!” You wave. Dumbfounded, the two are speechless for once. You notice their gaze is squarely focused behind you.

Malleus is busy petting Philis on the head while murmuring something to her. He glances over when the silence stretches. “Are we going in?” he inquires.

“Yeah. I need to unpack.” Malleus gives Philips one last pat before following you. You lead him by the hand past the two still gawking. “The inside doesn’t look bad either,” you note after doing a quick look.

You set down your bag on a chair. “Are you two going to stand outside all day?”

Breaking out of their stupor, they shuffle inside. They each give Malleus a hesitant look before looking back at you. “Y-your back early,” Deuce comments, finally.

“I missed home. And I thought it would be nice for Malleus to meet you two. You know since the last time you saw him he was smaller.” You look at them expectantly.

Ace blurts out, “You tried to roast us alive! Twice!”

Letting out a deep sigh, you pinch the bride of your nose. “I apologize for that,” Malleus says. “I was not fully myself at the time. I was only trying to protect (Y/N).”

“I’m pretty sure the second time was because you call him fat,” Deuce mutters.

You steer the conversation away from roasting. “Anyways, that’s all water under the bridge. I’m going to put my things away, so I’ll be right back.”

You ignore their protests. Up in your room, you unpack all your clean clothes before storing them away. The clothes you did wear are tossed in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Standing in the middle of your room, you let out a satisfied sigh. It might not be as grand as the guest room you stayed in, but it’s your place. 

Back downstairs, it’s dead silent. The two sit on the couch ramrod straight. Malleus is perched on the other chair staring at them. “Did I miss some riveting conversation?” you tease. 

Malleus shakes his head. “Your friends seem a bit…intimidated by me.” He turns to them with a frown on his lips. “I do apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable. I sometimes have that effect on people…”

Rolling your eyes, you give the two a look. “He’s not going to roast you.”

“He’s a prince!” Deuce squeaks out.

Ace is bewildered at your nonchalance. “Dude, he’s fucking royalty and you’re just…just you!?”

“Hmm?” Malleus tilts his head to the side. “If you want, you can think of me as just another fae. Since we are not in Briar Valley, my title should not matter. Right?”

“...”

“...”

Walking over, you bop the two over the head. “Give them a day, and they’ll get over it,” you tell him. “Why don’t you two head back to the guild? I’ll bring Malleus by tomorrow.”

The two leave while casting one last glance behind them. Closing the door, you let out a sigh. “Well…that went about how I expected.” Shaking your head once more, you aren’t too surprised at how they acted. “Do you want something to eat?”

Thankfully the fridge is stocked. You notice a box from the local bakery. “That explains why there’s food,” you mumble to yourself. Trey must have dropped by to make sure everything was okay. You’re glad you had the foresight to ask him.

“Can I help?” Malleus asks.

Grabbing a few things to prepare a meal, you hand them to Malleus. As you prepare dinner, Malleus follows your instructions. It’s almost like those times he would help you set the table when in dragon form. Though, it is quicker having an extra pair of actual hands. Dinner is nowhere near as grand as you had with his grandmother. But Malleus seems just as happy to be eating the smaller meal.

Now the only issue at hand is where he’ll sleep. The couch looks woefully small now that you’re looking at it. Sure Ace and Deuce have crashed on the couch in the past, but they’re not as tall as Malleus.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask, holding out an extra blanket.

“Of course.” He takes the blanket from you along with his specialized pillow. “I don’t require much sleep, so I may spend time in the garden out back.”

“Alright…” You hesitate but he doesn’t seem bothered. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night, (Y/N).” You give him one last look before heading upstairs.

Sleep eludes you once more. Though it’s your bed, you can’t seem to get comfortable. Perhaps it’s due to a certain someone downstairs sleeping on an ill-sized couch. Thinking back to when you used to snuggle with Malleus in dragon form, he was like a warm pack. There was something comforting in having him curled against you.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you get out of bed. You grab a sweater from your closet. Heading downstairs, Malleus is not on the couch. You head to the garden in the back. He’s sitting on the bench looking up at the sky. He turns as you come closer.

Brows creasing, he moves over. “Can you not sleep?” Sitting down, you scoot closer to him. Malleus immediately wraps his arms around your form. You lean against him with a smile.

“Yeah… It seems I haven’t been able to sleep well for a few days.” Really if you think about it, you haven’t slept well since he left. However, you ignored the thought in favor of going about your daily life. But it seems the lack of good sleep is finally catching up.

He’s silent as you close your eyes. The night is filled with different sounds. “I could not sleep either,” he confesses after a while.

“Hmm?”

“It seems I have gotten used to sleeping next to you. Fae don’t need much sleep, but even the little I do require has been fitful,” he continues. “I miss your warmth. There was a sense of comfort being in your arms.”

Your heart thuds loudly. He says all this without a hint of embarrassment. You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you keep quiet. “You know, my grandmother said something interesting before I left.”

“Oh?” You do recall the slight surprise in his expression.

His hand, which had been tracing patterns on your arm, stills. “She said that I shouldn’t let you go.”

Your breath hitches. “...”

He chuckles. “I agree with her on that. You know what they say about dragons and how they’re greedy creatures. I want to keep you all to myself.”

Sitting up so you can look at him fully, you're taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. “Malleus…” You break eye contact, unable to hold it. You remember wondering if you’d ever leave that strange limbo of not being quite something with him. 

He holds out his hand. “I have a gift for you. May I?” You give him your hand without hesitation. Holding your hand palm side up, he pulls something from his pocket. A small round device is placed in your hand.

Your brows furrow as you inspect the device. You recognize it as one of the old children's toys. It was very popular when you were a child. You wanted one but could never afford it. “This is…”

“Gao-Gao Drakon-kun was a gift from Lilia. It’s my most prized possession. I’ve been taking care of it since I was child,” he explains. His gaze softens at the memory. “I want you to have it.”

“No!” Hurt shines in his eyes. “ I mean I can’t take something that’s your most prized possession, Malleus!” You quickly shake your head. You suddenly feel the weight of the palm sized toy.

He closes your fingers over the toy. “I want you to have it. As a symbol of my affections and trust. I wouldn’t trust just anyone with Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.”

Chewing on your lower lip, you hold the toy close to your chest. “I- thank you for trusting me with something so precious.” Slipping the toy into the pocket of your sweater, you take his hand.

Fiddling with his fingers, you stare down rather than at him. You’d probably lose your nerves if you did look him in the eyes right now. “I don’t really have a prized possession, but I want you to know I care about you. Immensely.” You interlace your fingers together. “I want to spend more time with you, Malleus.”

You glance up to see his reaction. His eyes are wide with his mouth slightly open. Then, he breaks into a beautiful smile. “I wish to spend as much time with you as possible as well. We can figure things out as we go.” There’s a sense of relief that washes over you.

 Reaching up, you frame his face. You press a soft kiss to his forehead. Pulling back, you can’t help but laugh at his slightly dazed expression. It very much reminds you of that time you kissed him in his dragon form. He’s adorable in either form.

“Come on, let's go to bed.” You take his hand and lead him back inside. You make sure to grab his pillow from the couch before heading up to your room.

Tossing the extra pillow on the nearby chair, you place Malleus’s pillow down. You take Gao-Gao Drakon-kun out of your pocket and place it on the bedside table. Slipping into bed, Malleus pulls you closer to his side. With his arms wrapped around you, it’s pleasantly cozy.

A yawn escapes your mouth. “Good night, Malleus.”

He lets out a content sigh. “Good night.”

It’s the best sleep you have had in a long time.

---

“Check mate.” The queen smiles. “My, it almost feels like you let me win, Lilia.”

The former general chuckles. “Of course not, my queen. I was merely distracted.”

She waved her hand and the pieces moved back to their original spots. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. What’s on your mind?”

Leaning back in the chair, Lilia regards her with sharp eyes. “Something about the day Malleus was kidnapped by a demon crow has been bothering me. You see, I remember distinctly that you were in the garden having tea. And from where you sat, you could easily see what was happening.”

“Hmm… I was enjoying such a lovely new blend on that day,” she sighs at the memory.

“Well, I’m sure being as powerful as you are, my queen, you could have easily taken down the creature. Yet, if I remember correctly, you just looked on.” Lilia leans forward placing his folded hands under his chin. “Could it be that you wanted Malleus to be taken away?”

A single eyebrow goes up. “Are you accusing me of orchestrating my grandson’s kidnapping?”

“Kheehee… Just thinking aloud.” He bows his head with a grin still on his lips.

She reaches for a pawn while chuckling, “Well, if I did play a hand in that, it’s worked out better than anyone could imagine. However, those two need to figure out the rest for themselves.”

“Oh? No more meddling?” He slides a pawn forward.

She returns his grin with a wicked one of her own. “Only if I think it’s necessary. Though, it looks like they’re on the right track.”

Tagging: @starsilluminateourgalaxy @stormyovent0aster @hanafubukki @mscarterakaviola98 @sparkleypancakez @youaskedfurret @yokokai @hajimeseyo @ravenlking @peter-the-pan @enchanted-nerd @nocturneabyss @chaasworld @lechuko @bloomsapphire @amar-farashaa @itszzmoon @xlifexdeathx @supernovaicloud @mysterypotatoink @illytian @depressed-bitchy-demon @cheyuma @liquidfurby @bigcandlesmolbrain @thetruepair @chibishae34 @strawberry-soap-bar @sus0daddy @inana-mm @liliaviper @musclefanatica @loivre @chuchotheblackcat @lorkai @ennonzi @yo4sblog @aloodonut @deepdinosaurwizard @zozoni @nightqueensk @barbatos-mybeloved

[zafirosreverie]

Their reaction to you defending them (Bungo Stray Dogs)

a/n: First time writting for this fandom, let's go!

Doppo Kunikida:

He was used to Dazai and Ranpo's constant teasing, and although he usually ignored them in favor of his paperwork, he couldn't deny that today both geniuses had been especially cruel. He tried not to let it show, after all, there was no reason to make a scene over a simple joke.

Unfortunately, he forgot one small detail: you knew him better than anyone and you could notice the moment when a comment from Ranpo crossed the line of what was acceptable, so it was your duty to intervene in the most mature way possible: unleash hell.

Listen, Kunikida is no fool, he knew what he was getting into when he started dating you, he knew the strength of your ability and your wits, but until now you hadn't had any missions together and he didn't expect you to be so fierce in defending him. If Fukuzawa was wondering why there was a Dazai-shaped hole in the wall while Ranpo was having an existential crisis in his office, he certainly preferred not to ask.

H.P. Lovecraft:

"Human...human what are you doing? Human, put the gun down"

He was a god, a being beyond time and space, why should he care what anyone said about him or the human disguise he used? He never paid attention to that nonsense, he just wanted to finish his work and go back to sleep.

That's why he didn't care when a couple of people made fun of him, or rather, of his "human" appearance, he simply continued walking with a slow but firm step, until he felt a tug on his arm. Confused, he turned to see that you had stopped walking and your hand was tightly squeezing his as you looked at those people with murderous hatred.

You didn't even give him time to react before you pulled out your gun and pointed it at their heads, effectively stopping their laughter as they looked at you in fear.

"Don't try me, bitch" you growled.

Lovecraft only cared about four things: offerings, sleeping, finishing his work (so he could sleep), and his human. You were his human. He was supposed to take care of you and protect you, not the other way around, but it wouldn't be the first time you confused him by doing something you "shouldn't" or that at least didn't make sense to him. Like defending him. Are you sure you're a human and not a gremlin?

Edgar Allan Poe:

As a writer, Poe knew that not everyone would like his novels, it hurt him every time someone told him that, but he was used to it. Of course, there were people more educated than others and sometimes it took days for the pain in his chest to go away, but in the end he learned to live with it.

You were another story. To you, the man was the greatest writer in history, and while you respected other people's opinions (no matter how wrong they were), you drew the line when critics were rude to Edgar.

"I understand if the novel isn't your taste" you told the reviewer "But there's no need to be rude about it. If you don't have anything nice to say, shut the hell up"

"And who are you, beautiful? His babysitter?" he scoffed

Poe squirmed in his place and played with his hands as he lowered his head and let his bangs cover his eyes. He could feel people's eyes on the three of you and it made him more anxious. He was about to ask you to leave the matter alone, but you didn't give him time to react. Before anyone could stop you, you used your ability to send the other guy flying across the room, making him crash hard into the wall. A twist of your hand and a table flew as well, straight into his stomach, suffocating him.

"The only one who can call me beautiful is that cutie over there" you said, pointing at Edgar "say something about him again and you won't live to tell about it"

Poe swallowed hard as you turned and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the place. His mind raced as he tried to understand what had happened. You defended him, and you were terribly fierce, he really didn't know who he was most afraid of anymore, and- wait, you called him cute?!

Nathaniel Hawthorne:

Nathaniel knew he wasn't exactly people's favorite person, but it's not like he cared much, honestly. He would only focus on his own business and ignore any rude comments towards his person. With a skill like the Scarlet Letter, he was more than capable of defending himself when necessary, so why bother with meaningless words?

But you, you took it personal. It was a big surprise to him, because since you had joined the guild, neither of you had done much for the other beyond some friendly greetings and a couple of pleasant conversations, so seeing you so upset on his behalf took him with the guard down.

He watched as you continued to defend him, but he had to jump into action as soon as you showed signs of activating that dangerous ability of yours that always drained you past the point of collapse and left you in bed for at least a few days. He was able to stop you and honestly didn't even care about his attackers as he carried you back home.

"Don't do that again" he scolded you "I'm not worth your own safety."

"No" you agreed and smiled "you're worth more, Nathaniel"

He couldn't help but smile back at you and feel a soft warmth spreading across his chest.

Herman Melville:

When you have already lived as much and been through as many things as he has, it is inevitable that wisdom and resilience will seep into your bones. Herman was not a man who lost his temper easily, and a couple of brats making ill-intentioned comments was the least of his worries.

However, he couldn't help but smile softly as he silently watched your attempt to defend his name. It was cute, if he was honest with himself, not just because of how your cheeks were slightly tinted red with anger, but because of the simple fact that you were willing to go a step forward for him, something he couldn't exactly say about the rest of the guild.

"I'm sorry for that, Mr. Melville" you said once you managed to shoo away the people who had insulted him "I'm sorry that they interrupted our walk in such a rude way"

"Don't worry, little one" he laughed and ruffled your hair gently "why don't we go get a coffee? It's on me, it's the least I can do for my savior"

He winked at you and started walking, waiting for you to follow him. You just laughed and ran after him, not caring about people's stares.

Louisa May Alcott:

She knew that in a confrontation, she had the disadvantage, always. She was small, clumsy and shy, her voice left her easily and her brain slammed shut, leaving her paralyzed with fear. So when a pair of men cornered her in an alley at night, with sinister smiles, Louisa could only close her eyes and expect the worst.

It took her a while to notice the small commotion around her or the men's grunts and screams. It wasn't until she felt a pair of warm arms gently hugging her, that she was able to react and finally open her eyes, only to be met with your worried gaze.

"Are you ok, Lu?" you asked softly

Louisa could only nod and snuggle deeper into your arms. It took her the entire trip back to the Guild building to catch up with everything and realize that you had saved her life. Once safe, she wasted no time thanking you as many times as she could, not stopping even when you told her it was fine.

Expect her to be attached to you from that moment on, not wanting to go out on the town unless you accompanied her and offering to help you in any way she could until you tell her it's not necessary (she still will, tho).

Bram Stoker:

"Do not do that again"

You looked at the vampire with disbelief. You just defended him and that's how he thanked you? Damn insensitive being, you didn't even know why you bothered (you knew, but you weren't ready to admit it).

Bram wasn't really trying to be rude, he just didn't care about the situation at all. It wasn't unusual for Fukuchi to yell at him, for Gogol to make fun of him, or for some other member of the DOA to insult him, but he didn't care, all he wanted was to rest.

That's why he hadn't said anything when the clown had opened his coffin to mock him again, nor when you had jumped into action to defend him, he had simply watched indifferently as you tried to defend his honor.

But even he had to admit that you had guts, not everyone would stand up to a person like Gogol, who had no trouble hurting people no matter who they were, moreover, you had come out of it unscathed. And all in his name.

Bram had to admit that you had been passionate in your defense of his person and although he really couldn't care less about the incident, he supposed it would be only right to acknowledge your effort.

"Thank you" he said, stopping your steps.

"Uh?"

"You're brave" he admitted "…but don't do it again, I'm not worthy of you getting hurt."

His face showed no emotion, but his eyes told another story. You smiled softly at him and nodded. You both knew you weren't going to listen to that warning, but you didn't need to say it out loud.

Sigma:

"If I find out that any of you bothered Sigma again, the "Decay of angels" will become the "Graveyard of rats'" you growled.

Sigma barely had time to blink before you grabbed his hand and led him out of the room, ignoring the dumbfounded looks from Nikolai and Fyodor. The 3-year-old was used to Gogol's jokes that bordered on torture, or Dostoyevsky's cruel, manipulative and cold comments, he didn't like them, and he was always left with a feeling of fear running through his veins, but it was what it was and there was nothing he could do about it if he wanted to continue living.

But you, you were not afraid of either the clown or the devil. Damn, you weren't even afraid of Fukuchi, you were simply with the DOA because your ideals aligned with the organization's ultimate goal. You usually didn't pay much attention to the rest of the members, but you used to spend time with Sigma at the casino.

He thought that maybe you wanted something from him, just like everyone else, but in the time he knew you, you had only been nice to him, asking how he felt or how his day was, and now, you had defended him from Nikolai and Fyodor? He…really didn't know what to think.

"Don't let them bother you" you told him once you got to his office. "And if they do, just tell me, I'll take care of it" you promised.

Sigma nodded slowly and you gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before walking out of there. The poor boy could only touch his cheek before tears began to form in his eyes. You hadn't asked him for anything in return, you hadn't blackmailed him, you had really defended him just because you cared about him and nothing else.

He'll probably need a couple of hugs and won't leave your side for the next month.

Nikolai Gogol:

“Have a nice day, sir” you smiled and walked away.

You didn't notice how the only visible eye carefully followed your every movement until you were lost in the sea of people. Only then did the man's mind seem to wake up and race to catch up with what had happened.

Nikolai had been away on errands for Fyodor. It hadn't really taken him long to finish the list, but it was one of those days where he didn't want to go back right away, so he calmly strolled around the city, trying to find the perfect victim to torment, just for fun.

It was at that moment that a couple of people pointed at him and started whispering. Nikolai didn't really care, but then one of the boys came up to him and started teasing him, making fun of his extravagant appearance. It was evident that the poor unfortunate soul didn't know who he was messing with, and the clown smiled evilly, having found his victim.

However, before he could do anything, you showed up, punched the other guy in the face, and started yelling at him for insulting someone just because of his appearances. Nikolai didn't really know how, but you even managed to get the guy to apologize to him before turning to ask him if he was okay. When he assured you that he was alright, you simply smiled and continued your way.

He was very confused. He was Nikolai Gogol, he didn't need to be defended. He knew it, the DOA knew it, everyone knew it! Except you, apparently. He assumed you didn't really know who he was or all the atrocities he had committed, which only confused him more. You had simply defended him because you believed that he was a normal boy who liked to dress extravagantly and that's it.

It was nothing special for you, but for Nikolai it was the beginning of an obsession. No one had defended him before, not even Fyodor (especially Fyodor, tbh). It felt strange, like something warm and soft was spreading across his chest. It was a nice feeling and he desperately needed to feel it one more time. So he started chasing you.

[thatineffablewitch]

Feeling angsty about the Angel again…

Aziraphale was horrified to give Crowley holy water. He wouldn’t hear of it, he was terrified at the thought of Crowley using it. He didn’t want to give Crowley “a suicide pill,” in his own words.

He was always terrified what Hell would do to Crowley throughout history. If Hell found out they’d been consorting and fraternizing…“They’ll destroy you.”

He was holding onto Crowley in Edinburg, totally and hopelessly in love having watched Crowley display more kindness and compassion and self-sacrifice than any angels Aziraphale knows, when Hell quite literally ripped him out of his arms.

He fell in love with Crowley the moment he met the Starmaker. Even then, he warned Crowley of the dangers of questioning God. Aziraphale has always just wanted Crowley to be okay, to be safe.

Think about it… Aziraphale met Crowley Pre-fall. Aziraphale wanted to keep Crowley safe even back then, “word to the wise,” and couldn’t protect him. He saw or heard about the Fall—one day Crowley was there, the next Aziraphale is hearing (or worse: watching) him be cast down to this new place full of unspeakable and terrifying horrors called Hell. Crowley’s fall was obviously traumatic for Crowley and the fandom does a wonderful job acknowledging that, but how traumatic is it to watch someone you love Fall? To be totally helpless in that scenario?

To watch this beautiful creature be cast out and labeled as unforgivable, to hear them accept that and start calling themselves unforgivable when you never thought they did anything to warrant a need for forgiveness in the first place. “I knew the Angel you were.” I know you didn’t deserve any of this.

All he has ever wanted is for Crowley to be ok, to be safe. I read another meta where someone said Aziraphale purposely made the Bentley “our car” so Hell couldn’t pop in and grab Crowley anymore (property of an Angel + Shax couldn’t pop in anymore = safety), and told Crowley to watch the bookshop since he’s safe in there. Honestly I wouldn’t put it past Az to think that far ahead (he is intelligent and gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide).

These are a lot of half-baked ideas but I hope y’all see what I mean: Aziraphale wants Crowley safe because he has loved Crowley for 6,000 years, and in turn worried about Crowley for just as long. He just wants to take care of his love but the current systems of power in place make that utterly impossible and I think that breaks his heart every single day. I think the worry has been eating away at Aziraphale for 6,000—having such constant real and intense fear for your loved ones well-being is traumatic.

[foranpo]

ੈ˚☆ bungou stray dogs characters as angst tropes.

fandom: bungou stray dogs.

characters: ranpo, dazai, akutagawa.

reader: gn!

genre: headcanons.

content: angst.

word count: ~300 each // ~950 total

cole's note: already w a part 2 in my drafts bc i love this concept a little too much lmao sorry and enjoy (ig ?) <3

ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading <3 ──────

˚ʚ ranpo.

falling out of love.

he couldn't love you anymore. your presence in Ranpo's life had become a constant too monotonous to satisfy the young detective; he loved you, yes—trapped in your nature, utterly fascinated by your soul, Ranpo loved you deeply. but there was a certain annoyance in the serenity you carried with you, a certain discomfort in the reassurance your presence gave to Ranpo's life.

maybe he just got tired of the comfort of your day-to-day life, the repetitiveness of your love, the predictability of your history; or maybe Ranpo just stopped being in love with you because that's what was written in your book, in your stars, in your lines of destiny. but, as much as he tried to escape reality, as much as he loved you as a person, as a friend, he could no longer deny the facts that constantly haunted him.

“I don't want to lose you,” his voice sounded ever so serious when he tried to express his feelings, no weakness or trembling to be noticed in his words, no hint of hesitation or falsehood to be felt in his little speech. just mere words of logic sinking into your heart with the memory of the ephemerality of Ranpo's feelings.

“I don't want to lose you, but I can't love you the way you want me to love you. I can't love you the way I used to love you. I don't think it's fair of me to beg you to stay in my life after hurting you like this; but if the love I feel for you has weakened and just settled into a friendship that I know will be eternal, don't you think it's only logical that we stay together? as friends?”

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ dazai.

unkept promises.

he promised that your love would be told by all the constellations that embellished the sky; he promised that legends would be told of your love, creating envy and jealousy in all who heard them; he promised to love you eternally, with such intensity that even the gods themselves would want to be part of your love. but all of Dazai's words were but cascades of empty promises, swept away by the autumn of life, by the aggressive breeze of the marks of time.

he promised worlds and galaxies, made you believe that each word had a deeper, purer meaning than what was in the dictionary; but nothing Dazai said came true when the sun exposed his true heart, too corrupted by the world, too tainted by humans, too destroyed to be able to truly love anyone.

“one day, the gods will envy us,” he spoke to the clouds, trying to see in the sky a trace of those who put him in this world, trying to understand what purpose would exist in that moment, in his own words, knowing perfectly well that that day, that those days he talked about so much and made you look forward to, would never come.

“I know I promised you that. I know I promised you that, one day, our names would be written in the sky among constellations and stars, carved by the most beautiful hands of the most talented gods. but maybe all the promises I made you didn't deserve the comfort of your heart or the kindness of my voice; maybe it was my fault for singing the most beautiful poems to you on the scariest nights, but the promises I made to you cannot be fulfilled in this world, in this life, and, much less, by me.”

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ akutagawa.

lovers to strangers.

the moon no longer knew your names, the stars were totally alien to your history, and there was no trace of your love trapped on this earth, any dust of affinity existing between you having long ago been swept away by the uncertainty of time and the cruelty of the seasons. your romance with Akutagawa came to an end with the departure of winter, the warmth and joy of spring being nothing more than a palette of artificial colors that tried, in vain, to fill in the gray spaces that Akutagawa's departure had left in your heart.

the farewell was painful for both of you, neither of you wanting to remember the reasons or the moment that led to the end of your love story; the memories of the most beautiful moments shared with Akutagawa had been spent by tears of regret and pain, your heart was losing strength to keep all the words and caresses you had exchanged with Akutagawa for yourself. you couldn't fight for that love. there was no turning back—and you knew it, because you were still immersed in Akutagawa's words that were uttered with the cold of winter and the uncertainty of spring:

“I don't think we can be anything anymore,” always so serious and expressionless, too complex to read, too confusing to understand. Akutagawa had no regrets in his words, he didn't believe in that: just the practicality of the words, the actions, the feelings, and in this case, the goodbye to the only person he had ever truly loved, the only person he knew would love him but who he didn't deserve.

“There's too much of me in you and I don't like it. I preferred it when you were yourself, without the remains of my wreckage, without the collection of my pains. you took me as your own and destroyed yourself. I don't think we should stay together. looking at you is the constant reminder of what we both could have had but was destroyed by the cruelty of feelings. what we had was totally corrupted by you, by me, by this world. and I can no longer find any comfort or love in you, in us.”

ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated <3 ─────

[bobparkhurst]

a totally unbiased (no) and mostly serious (i guess) spoiler-free primer

I've seen a bunch of posts floating around encouraging people into the fandom, or HBO War people looking for a new fandom/show to sink their teeth into. Here's my effot to add to the propaganda, because I've been in this fandom since Nov '22, it's delightful here and I always love a new SASRH friend to chat to.

tl;dr: it's a lot of fun

premise & setting

SAS: Rogue Heroes is the story of the founding of the original* Special Air Service (SAS) of the British Army during WW2. It centres three of the initial founders, David Stirling, Blair 'Paddy' Mayne and Jock Lewes. Two of other men credited as founding the SAS, Bill Fraser and Georges Bergé also feature. Bill Stirling, David's older brother and integral to the founding of the SAS, will feature in series 2.

Series 1 is 6 episodes long, covering events from the North African campaign from May '41 through Jan '43. Series 2 has been filmed and will move the action to Europe.

Based largely on the book, SAS: Rogue Heroes by Ben Macintyre.

*it was disbanded in Oct '45, and reformed in '47, ultimately leading, through various machinations, to the modern day SAS.

historical accuracy

Somewhat more fast and loose with history than Band of Brothers, The Pacific or Masters of the Air, but not bad enough to send historians spiralling into deep despair, with one very important caveat: the depiction of Paddy Mayne. More on him and this in a moment. However, it has generally been well received. Damien Lewis (the author and historian, not the actor) said "...it's reasonably realistic. It tells a great yarn. I think they've used some artistic license, I can understand why they've done so to a certain extent... Generally they've got the equipment and the kit bang on, I think they had some very good advisers." (here)

There are some weird timeline issues, which I think is caused largely by odd pacing and editing. I'd not worry about this too much, otherwise you'll break your brain. Likewise, liberties have been taken with the geography, which I think is a bit more heinous, but ymmv.

characters: lads lads lads lads lads

after the first four, these are in no order of importance, before anyone gets on at me about their favourite. i also appreciate there are other characters but this bit was already getting really long.

david stirling (connor swindells) - the dreamer

Arrogant, manipulative, clever, charismatic bastard. David Stirling is fueled chiefly by daddy issues and an inferiority complex a mile wide. Connor Swindells walks a beautiful line between swagger and vulnerability. He does not let things like "common sense", "safety precautions" or "understanding the implications" get in the way of doing important things like flinging himself out of a plane in the middle of the desert or talking his way into army bases armed with nothing but crutches and chutzpah.

blair 'paddy' mayne (jack o'connell) - the madman

Paddy Mayne my BELOVED. Character of all time. He's a drinker, a fighter and abhors a bully. For most of the show, we see him at his most desperate and most angry and arguably most violent. HOWEVER, he's also a highly intelligent, sensitive, compassionate poet and voracious reader; if there's a bunch of poetry being quoted, it's probably Paddy doing it. He loves so very deeply. His depiction in the show is a bit of a bone of contention with family and historians - some people read him as being depicted as a violent thug only, and that's not what the real Blair Mayne was like. Which is simultaneously true and not true. Blair Mayne was an incredibly complicated man.

The other contentious-to-some point is that the show does deliberately suggest his queerness, something Jack O'Connell has talked about in interviews. Some people have taken issue with this. Either way, for those who saw the sand wrestling gifs and wanted to know if SASRH was just queerbaiting, the answer is no, actually. But don't expect anything explicit on this front.

Jack O'Connell looks like he's having a fucking fantastic time.

jock lewes (alfie allen) - the creator

In real life, Jock Lewes was nicknamed "The Wizard", how great is that? David, Paddy and David met in training and are referred to in show as "the Three Musketeers". He is basically the mediator between Paddy and David, which sounds dull, except Jock is also batshit and clever and scary. He makes all the lads do intense marches in the desert without water, but is never willing to ask someone to do what he wouldn't do. Trouble is, as mentions, he is batshit so his standards are VERY VERY HIGH. He also has a fiancee, Mirren, whomst he loves very much and their relationship is so tender and brings me to tears on the regular.

eve mansour (sofia boutella)

Eve works for French Military Intelligence and quietly drives a lot of action behind the scenes. She's a totally fictional invention for the show and I'd be madder about it if Sofia Boutella wasn't being gorgeous and smart all over the place. She is focused on the goal and is generally just. Queen.

dudley clarke (dominic west)

Not so much a member of the SAS as the guy who helps Stirling bring this plan to fruition. He's great fun, charming and affable, and just as dangerous as anyone else. Dudley Clarke doesn't get enough credit, I think.

mike sadler (tom glynn-carney)

Mike Sadler my OTHER beloved. I joke about Mike coming to fix all the stuff around my flat that doesn't work and it's because he's singlehandedly the most competent member of the entire SAS, I think. His introduction scene is the sexiest thing on the entire show. He only gets introduced in episode 3, but in my heart we have six seasons and a movie with him. He's a member of the Long Range Desert Group and knows more about navigating the landscape than anyone. The LRDG are barely part of the show (save for Mike) and are well worth looking up.

IRL Mike Sadler actually only passed away this year, at the age of 103.

eoin mcgonigal (dónal finn)

Most of what Eoin's around for in SAS: RH is to hang out being impossibly beautiful and being ride or die for Paddy Mayne. Dónal Finn and Jack O'Connell created the most beautiful relationship told in touches. Drives me mad. He's also the first one who really understands who Paddy is beyond the brash and violent front. Eoin McGonigal is certainly a creature.

bill fraser, johnny cooper, reg seekings, jim almonds, dave kershaw, pat riley

(stuart campbell, jacob mccarthy, theo barklem-biggs, corin silva, bobby schofield, jacob ifan)

Look, there are a lot of lads and I can't do them all justice. Some of these folks get a lot more to do than the others, and they're all distinct characters in their own right. There are two matched set duos, Reg & Johnny (enemies to lovers, 150k) and Jim & Pat (do not seperate). Jim & Pat were Jock's crew prior to the SAS and the way he gets them to join is basically by saying "hey, there's a really stupid and dangerous thing i want to do, you in?" and they do this:

each and every one of them is as bad as the others.

augustin jordan, georges bergé, andré zirnheld

Free French paratroopers, who Stirling is reluctantly forced into accepting into the SAS by Eve and Clarke. TBF, this is where SAS: RH really starts playing with history, though it serves the narrative well enough. Show!Augustin Jordan was a former professor of Philosophy at La Sorbonne, and is also a tall dark haired man, so you can see how Paddy Mayne is gonna struggle.

I had to use the sand wrestling gif here (that's augustin), you've probably seen it. It's a surprisingly interesting character scene, would you believe.

There are several other named characters, but I'm running out of energy.

other stuff

OK, so I've lost my thread here a bit. SAS: Rogue Heroes is fun, first and foremost. It really does fall down on the side of "Cool Boys Doing War", so if that's not your thing, maybe you'll not enjoy it. I personally do. And I think it does have some further depth to it than that, even if that's where it comes back to. I've never seen Peaky Blinders, but apparently it's a bit like that? IDK.

While it's very violent, I don't think it's as brutal as the HBO War shows. It's a much more heightened kind of drama, so there's a step removal I think, from the really visceral. That said, it's still a war drama, and it does feature some very nasty business.

soundtrack

it's mostly hard rock and if you don't like this, idk what to tell you. i fucking love it. once again though, mike sadler gets the best of this. you'll know it when you see it.

the fandom

The SAS Rogue Heroes fandom is small but it is mighty and it genuinely is very friendly. There is a Discord if you like, but you don't have to do it if Discord is not your thing.

While the overriding popular ship is Paddy/Eoin, Paddy/Augustin and Reg/Johnny are also wildly popular. That said, we are fond of a rarepair in this fandom, and I personally have embarked on a mission of shipping Mike Sadler with every other character. Everyone's very encouraging of wild ideas and aus, anything's welcome.

A few people are writing OCs, and that too is great. I encourage more of that! I don't think I've seen any x Reader yet, but never say never.

Come join us!

a brief suggested further reading

you really don't have to do any of this, but like, some of you are nerds, i get it. i also got a lot of other recs, but these are some good starters. you can hit me up for more, it's all good.

SAS: Rogue Heroes by Ben Macintyre

SAS Brothers in Arms: Churchill's Desperadoes - Damien Lewis

SAS: An Illustrated History of the SAS - Joshua Levine

Speed, Aggression, Surprise: The Untold Secret Origins of the SAS - Tom Petch

One of the Originals: Story of a Founder Member of the S.A.S. - Anthony Kemp & Johnny Cooper (Johnny Cooper's memoir and imo, if you read nothing else, read this)

The Phantom Major: The Story of David Stirling & the SAS Regiment - Virginia Cowles (this was written in 1958. There is a "rebuttal" biog, The Phoney Major by Gavin Mortimer, which also contains a lot of info, but I find Mortimer's bias against Stirling incredibly difficult to stomach. Difficult.)

Paddy Mayne - Hamish Ross (honestly, I'd not bother with other biogs of Blair Mayne unless you want to do a lot of reading around and getting cross)

Special Forces Brothers in Arms: Eoin & Ambrose McGonigal - Patric McGonigal (this is so personal and so beautiful, I cried several times reading it. written by Eoin's great-nephew. Ambrose, Eoin's older brother was part of the SBS, Special Boat Service, who are ALSO very interesting)

Gentleman Jim: The Wartime Story of a Founder of the SAS and Special Forces - Lorna Almonds-Windmill (another biog by a family member, this one is gentle and told with love)

Joy Street: A Wartime Romance in Letters - the published correspondence between Jock Lewes and Mirren Barford. A slightly different kind of book, but gosh. It really hits.

...and that's all I got for you right now. I could talk about this show for days though.

(forgot to add: my SAS RH blog is @regseekings, I posted this on here for the HBO war fandom)

[keirawantstocry]

Hi hi, tis I, 💋anon, yet again back with another Thought. Your writing continues to be Fantastic AHHHHH. All the kisses for you.

I have no real premise for this other than p l e a s e but- someone mentioned when fit and pac were Cricling Tubbo and complimenting him. And then The Suit happened and I just- if they reacted that way to him changing a Shirt what would they do seeing him in a Suit (either the black or white one they were both Good mans is too attractive). Did they get him in the suit? did one of them? did someone else??? is there an event???

Hope you're having a good day (that you get un-sick soon, sounds like it fuckin sucks) :>

still sick but im chugging vitamin water and gatorade like its nobodys business :) also i have history in a fandom with 1800's and 1900's fashion so i leaned a bit into my past with TLH to come up with this outfit idea. i doubt many mcyters know it but google matthew fairchild and thats the inspo for the outfit!

Tubbo felt out of place to say the least. He wouldn't go as far to say he was uncomfortable but the suit on his body felt strange. It was the women’s idea. Niki was the one who decided to host the get-together, Bagi and Tina the ones who decided everyone had to dress up. The children loved the idea, absolutely loved it. Tubbo spent an hour with Sunny dressing her in the finest dress he could possibly get for her. She was a sight. Dressed in a beautiful moss green dress with golden detailing. Her hair was piled on top of her head with lovely golden flowers threading through her curls. “You look beautiful, poppet.” 

Sunny grinned at him before grabbing at his hands. She dragged him over to his closet and started digging through the suits. 

“Oh no, princess. I don’t want to wear something complicated.” 

She gave him a look that warranted absolutely no arguing and now here he was, dressed up. The undershirt was crisp white and the waistcoat on top a deep swirling green that matched Sunny’s dress, a simple black jacket topping it all. She had insisted. He would do anything for his princess and she damn well knew it. 

The party was beautiful. Fairy lights strung up all over the walls with tables of food in every corner of the large room. Mouse greeted them when they walked in. “Tubbo! Sunny! Hey, guys.” 

“Hey, Mouse,” Tubbo greeted back as Sunny waved happily. 

“Awww,” came Niki’s voice from behind them. “Sunny, you look absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Thank you!” she signed. 

Tubbo felt a strange type of pressure on him all of a sudden, like someone was watching him very closely. Peering around the room at all the guests he tried to figure out who it was. His answer came only a moment later as he saw Pac and Fit making a beeline for him. 

“Oi!” Pac said cheerily, his eyes glued on Tubbo’s suit. 

Tubbo had to resist the urge to squirm. “Hey, Pac.” 

Fit was utterly silent, eyeing him up and down as Pac smiled at Sunny. “Oi, Sunny, there’s uh a chocolate fountain over there.” He looked up pointedly at Niki who’s eyebrows shot up. “Niki, why don’t you show her the fountain?” 

Niki and Mouse quickly glanced between the three of them before at each other with knowing expressions. “Yeah, of course,” Mouse said, taking one of Sunny’s hands as Niki took the other. “Let’s get you some sweets, princess.” 

Tubbo rubbed his thumb repeatedly into the palm of his other hand in a nervous stim as he looked at the both of them. “Um, what’s up guys?” 

Neither of them were looking him in the eyes and every place their eyes dipped to felt like it was on fire. “You look really good,” Fit said in a low voice, finally looking him in the eye. His eyes were dark. “Really good.” 

Tubbo flushed. “Uh, thanks?” 

Pac nodded and nodded, absentmindedly before he took a step forward and grabbed Tubbo by the waist, running his hands over the expensive material of the waistcoat. His eyes got even wider as soon as he got his hands on the other man and Tubbo had to admit something in his chest was very pleased about this whole interaction. “So good,” he said softly. Pac's eyes were giving the impression he wanted to eat him alive and it made Tubbo shudder, suddenly feeling very warm in the suit. “You should uh come home with us later yeah?” 

Tubbo stared at him, jaw agape. “Uh, uh.” He glanced quickly over at Fit who was still blatantly checking him out. “Yeah? Yeah um sure.” 

“Good,” Pac said smoothly, running his hands down his sides once before finally pulling them away. He winked. “Meet us after the party.” 

[littlelodell]

Oh this is long and mostly just rambling.

Well it's been a weekend to remember here in the Good Omens fandom. Just when I think I'm ready to surrender my obsession just a little, set it aside, take a deep, deep breath, so I can come back to rediscover them, the story of the longest slow build love story in the history creation, of a fussy, bitchy, beautiful angel and an almost too searingly hot, ridiculous and deceptively good demon; a group of the two of them; a complete circle, just when I think.

GO is so silly, so howlingly funny - joyous, really and sumptuous to look at. It's layered and lush with references and meaning. They swing at every joke. Take every pun opportunity. Our stars and guest-stars are allowed to be and look ridiculous and fabulous. It is a fantasy world, in fact. But in that final fifteen, shit just gets so so real. There's no more silly. No more jokes. It's as emotionally real as any conversation you or I have had - that make or break, life changing moment, offering yourself, gambling for a possible future, making a case when there are absolutely no guarantees, no turning back, where everything from now on will be different but it's a moment where the real risk is in not taking the chance at all. That scene was a shift in tone from the rest of the series, and it was some of the best acting I've seen from David Tennant. He's almost unrecognizable - he's DT but he is Crowley. Jawline sharper, body all coiled springs and potential, explosive energy. And Michael, Michael, Michael. Aziraphale; defensive, naive, pliant, desirous...he really broke our hearts through Michael's choices. The fingers pressed to his lips - the first time I watched it all unfold I don't think I breathed. And like many of you, at least some small piece of me is still with them there in that bookshop.

I have no point to make, other than I'm grateful for all of the other unhinged maniacs in this fandom (up to and including Michael Sheen), and for an imperfect place to put my random thoughts tonight, before I lay down my head.

Can't wait to see what the days before us hold.

[satoru-is-the-way]

Namor loving the way reader says his name and going buck fuck wild when she whispers it in his ear.

A/N : Yes I love this request! I am unsure if this is suppose to be smut or PG-13 so...!! By the way all my Namor fics are Hispnic/Latina women based!

Here is my Fandom Master List! You can find more Namor fics including other characters!

Warnings: Curssing, grinding, thoughts of SMUT,and SMUT

MINORS DO NOT INGAGE. MDNI MDNI MDNI

"A Whisper"

Namor x Hispanic/Latina Reader!

Namor never would have imagined that he would one day fall in love with a surface dweller. He had no love for the surface world; that much was true. Everything about the world above sea posed a threat to his people. One day when he decided to make a venture above he meet her. The God of Talokan instantly became hypnotized by the gorgeous female. He watched the stranger linger on his beachfront. At that moment Namor knew he would claim this land woman as his queen.

Over a year had passed since his declaration. Namor stood in the cavern which displayed several murals of Talokan's history. His current segment is a devotion to (Y/n) and how she became the Queen of Talokan. While carefully mixing the colors Namor only thought of you. Many in Talokan wondered why their king, their god, choose somebody from the outside world. He felt many emotions thinking of his love. The (h/c) hair that shines in the sun. Her soft (s/c) skin that clashed against his. Her large (e/c) orbs that held so much love for him and Talokan. Perhaps it's her body? The way she moved, showing her curved in every outfit he handcrafted for her... Or how his cock perfectly fits into her wet pussy. The way she called his name- That was it! Her voice.

(Y/n)'s voice held an accent. Speaking their language Namor often shivers at her intersections. Or the way she would call his name. He then was pulled from his thoughts hearing footsteps. "In reina" (My Queen). Namor smiled walking to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"In ajawo' ~ Sigues sorprendiendo in yéetel a mayajo' yila'ob. Ma' ya'ab u píibo' ki'ichpam bey utia'al u pintada ti' le pak'o'."

(My king~ You continue to amaze me with your artwork. I am not beautiful enough to be painted on this wall.)

"Oh stop being humble. Your beauty is everything. It lights Talokan in the darkest corners. It gives me a want for a different view on life. To have children." He said kissing her deeply.

The innocent kiss soon became heated in the cavern. The God and queen soon were on the ground him between her (s/n) legs that wrapped around his waist. He roughly grinds his hardening cock into her precious flower. (Y/n) moaned her plump lips against his ear. "Kukulkan~" A whisper left her voice as she nibbled on his pointed ear. That is what did him in. The King growled like an animal. He pulled her bottoms down as (Y/n) yanked his boxer briefs down. "Ah fuck!" She pants once his large cock pushed into her tight wet cunt

The End - 😌

[smallraindrops-blog]

May I please request a Zagreus x Persephone's Priestess Flower Nymph! reader who Zag meets when he successfully completes a run while Persephone's in the underworld, find her tasked for caring for the house and garden while she's away? Please and Thank you.

Take me to the garden

(And bury me where I am loved.)

Fandom: Hades

Zagreus X Female Reader

Word count: 3K

Warning: Kissing, no beta. 

Notes: Hi, sorry for the long wait! Been dealing with a combo of flu and work. I hope this was close to what you wanted and that you enjoy it! There is an index of plants/flowers I choose and their symbolism at the end.

Enjoy!

~

The tall stalks of wheat swayed in the gentle breeze, golden in the fading sunlight. In the coming days, it will be harvested for food. Bread, porridge to fill the belly. 

It was a time for the daughters to gather, to work together and provide. The warm sun on their back. And proud smiles on all of their faces. Your mother had worked in the garden just as her mother did and her mother before her. The history was carved in your bones.

Only now it will be just you and your sisters, their eyes on you for leadership. 

You heard Persephone’s soft footstep, the grass growing taller with each of her movements. Little daisies will follow, bright white against the grass. You loved the sight of it, little flowers growing. 

Even your grief, the low boil of anger in your stomach, you couldn’t ignore Persephone. She had a mother to you in ways your own mother never was. You would not deny her. 

So you stood, your empty basket at your feet and turned to face her. 

Persephone’s face crumbled when she saw your expression and she held her arms open. “Oh, little one. Do not despair.”

Like a child, you went to her. Her hand rested on top of your head, careful to not disturb the carefully made crown, colorful with ribbons, wheat and small wildflowers weaved in. The sweetness of lavender and her warmth smoothed the ache in your chest just so and you closed your eyes.

There was a moment of silence, the faint brush of a cool breeze then you spoke. “I know why you must go but I won’t lie, my heart won’t let me. I am going to miss you greatly.” 

Persephone squeezed you, “I know. I will miss you as well. It's just… I think Zagreus needs me. And I wish to know my son.”

“Of course, my lady.” You told her. “We all know he brings you great joy.”

You closed your eyes, and silently cursed your own weakness.

~

Persephone left on a beautiful morning, the cheerful skies seemingly uncaring of your grief. Your sisters murmured and some wept, but there was the harvest and the garden that needed tending to. As well the house.

So that what you did, you cared for the land, to the solid wood of the home. The sun drifted on, and the wheat fell under the scythe and new seeds were planted. It didn’t help the pain in your heart but at least you could do this for Persephone. 

One by one, each of your sisters left after the harvest.  They will return next year, some rounded with children, some with tales of far away places and for some, it will be their daughters in their places. 

Then it was just you. 

~

It was when you saw the burnt grass that you knew you weren’t alone. Your mouth thinned in disapproval, you have seen it before. 

It meant that Persephone’s son, Zagreus was in the garden. 

You never saw him despite him visiting Persephone. The visits were never long, just a few hours and typically by the time you knew there was a stranger in the garden, all that was left were Persephone’s tears and blood.

And the lingering smell of burnt grass.

Carefully you followed the footsteps, thankful that he had stuck to the beaten dirt path.  Maybe it was unkind, but you were planning on a firm word with him. Just because Persephone was fine with him going and coming whenever he pleased, didn’t mean you were. 

It didn’t take long to find him, kneeling on his knee and his fingers carefully touching the pale petals of the lilies. 

He didn’t look anything like you expected. It was rare to see a man, only women and children were allowed to be in Persephone’s sanctuary. It would be easy to mistake him for a mortal at first glance. However, there was a strength to his form, broad shoulders and a fluid grace to his movements that spoke of his godhood.

“Their petals are fragile. I suggest not touching them.” Your voice came out sharp and Zagreus jerked his hand away like a guilty child. He stood quickly, turning to you. 

The god looked battle-worn, deep marks on his chest, barely healed cuts on his arms and face. There was a lingering exhaustion in his eyes. He looked surprised, his eyes unwavering from you, then he smiled, slow and warm.

Warmth flooded inside your very core at the sight but you held your head high, your scowl unfading.

“I know you.” Zagreus said, his voice a rumble, a contrast against the gentle birdsong and quiet ruffle of grain. “You’re my mother’s high priestess.”

“And you’re Zagreus. Her son.” You replied. 

There was a pause then you asked. “What are you doing here?” 

Zagreus looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah. Mother asked me to check on the garden. And on you. She suggested that you might need help.” 

“I do not.” You said brusquely. Zagreus gave you a startled glance and you sighed. Guilt was an unwelcome guest but you felt its weight in your chest. 

You sighed, “Forgive me, I am not used to strangers. It is very kind of you to fulfill  Lady Persephone’s wishes.”

Zagrues chuckled, a grin on his face. It made him appear boyishly sweet. “Truthfully, it's probably better if you didn’t need my help. I never gardened before. I would have killed anything I touched.”

You clicked your tongue, “Never?” You couldn’t imagine such a thing, you had been born among the trees and flowers. You had grown up side by side with the plants, learning the cycles of the seasons and your role in it.

“Never. The underworld is nothing like this. To me, not even the beauty of Elysium comes close to this place.” Zagreus said. His hand waved toward the lilies, to the trees. His face was thoughtful. “The work my mother -and you- put into this place is amazing.”

Your fingers curled over your stomach as pity grew. You still resented him for the pain he caused but…

“Would you like to see the rest?” You offered. “I have finished most of today’s chores and the apple trees are fruiting.”

Zagreus’ mismatched eyes locked on yours and you held your breath, awaiting for a judgment you just now only aware of. You wondered if Zagreus resented you the same you did to him.

Then the same warm smile returned. 

“I would like that very much.” Zagreus said quietly. 

Not sparing a moment to think about the warm flush on your cheeks, you turned on your heels. Without missing a beat, Zagrues fell in step with you. This close, you felt the warmth of his body. There was a faint smell of copper and smoke. 

You kept your eyes forward, not letting him see how off balanced he made you.

You pointed to each and every plant as they walked past. Persephone understood plants in a way no else could as far as you were concerned. Every spot was carefully chosen to maximize the plants’ growth and health. 

You told this to Zagreus, pausing in front of the yarrow, the flowers reaching high up to the sun. 

“These are yarrows.” You paused, glancing toward Zagreus who offered you a raised eyebrow. “They are also known as the warrior plant. Perhaps I can make you some medicine, it will help you heal.”

At your words, Zagreus’ lip quirked up, a false smile. “I appreciate it. I do but these won’t help me. Nothing will.” 

You frowned, mouth parting in question when without a single word, Zagrues walked past you, nodding toward the tall sunflowers. “Now tell me, what are these lovely things?”

Normally you would scoff at such words, what man would think himself above such needs? But the memories of Persephone weeping, her hands, bloody and trembling, hovering over nothing flashed in your mind.

You should have asked more questions but Persephone, for as much as you had cared for her, kept many things close to the chest, Zagreus the closest of all. The said god was looking at you, his black hair ruffled by the soft breeze. 

Like this, he wasn’t the villain you thought he was, tearing through the garden and breaking your Lady’s heart. There was a gentleness to him, most would have stomped through the garden, picking apart the flowers but Zagreus had been careful with every single touch. 

“Sunflowers.” You told him, moving to stand by his side. “They are always searching for the sun. They follow its path though the skies. Always looking but never able to touch.”

Zagreus frowned, “What a sad story for a cheerful looking plant.” 

You inclined your head in quiet agreement,  “Come along, I shall show you the apples. Some food will lighten the mood.” 

He nodded, however his eyes lingered on the sunflower. The flowers only swayed the breeze, unaware of the god staring at their dark faces. 

The apples would help that you were sure of, the sweetness unlike anything. The sight of the trees, colorful and lush, would be a treat of itself. 

Only Zagreus never made it. 

Among the pale yarrow and yearning sunflowers and quiet birdsong, he collapsed. Your body moved before you realized it, your arms around his chest as you were dragged down with him. 

His firm chest was under your ear and there was a moment of embarrassment, your cheeks flushed. Then you heard it, the slowing of a heartbeat. That he wasn’t quite as warm as he was before and when he let out a breath, it rattled.

You shifted quickly, placing a spread hand over where his heart was as you sat up. One your ribbons brushed against his shoulder when you moved to study his face. “Zagreus? Are you alright?” 

His eyes met yours and he offered up a weak smile. “Forgive me. You can leave me here. This isn’t the worst place to die alone.”

Your brow furrowed, and Zagreus sighed, the rattle stronger. “My mother didn’t tell you, did she?” 

“Don’t speak. Save your strength.” You ordered, your mind scrambling for solutions. Yarrows were only good for when there was a wound, but there was no wound that you could see.

Zagreus huffed out a laugh, his hand reached up to cover yours and your breath hitched at the casual intimacy. His hand was warm and dry, his calloused fingertips brushing your skin. 

“Thank you for showing me. The flowers are almost as lovely as you are.” Zagreus said, his words slurring together. You stared down at him, the beating of his heart fading. 

“I-“ you tried to say, but there was a thick knot in your throat. It was one thing to know plants and animals die, it was the natural course of life. 

Born, live, die. 

It was another thing to feel the fading of life itself. 

“Can I come back?” Zagreus asked softly. If you said no, you knew he would never step into the garden again. 

And you found that you couldn’t bear the cruelness of it, of him never knowing his own Mother’s garden. To not know how the cool, damp earth felt against sun warm skin, of teeth sinking into the sweet flesh of apples or the cool water down a parched throat. 

Persephone had chosen you to serve her until your last breath. In that moment, you knew your duty belonged to Zagreus as well, in whatever way you could help him. 

How odd things change so quickly.

With your uncovered hand, you brushed his dark hair, silky smooth between your fingers. 

“I will come get you myself if you don't return to me.” You said, your voice painfully gentle. Zagreus smiled.

In the next breath, he was gone. 

~

Fat, lazy clouds rolled past, casting long shadows across the land. The sunlight shone through the trees and the sunflowers chased after it. The birds were singing their songs, coaxing mates to them and feeding their babies. 

Dirt on your bare feet and the wind in your hair, you worked with a low hum. It was an old song, one that you heard Persephone sung before. You didn’t know the words but you knew the rhythm of it. 

Plucking the ripe tomatoes, you placed them in the basket next to the cucumbers, you checked over the rest. Like all of Persephone’s plants, the tomatoes grew strong and healthy.

A memory of mismatched eyes going dull came to you, a weight of pity grew in your chest and you sighed at your foolishnesses. There was a cycle to everything, even for gods.

Yet the memory lingered. 

It was when you were cleaning the front porch, your boom sweeping the dust off when you felt eyes on you. Your hands tightened around the wood, more than ready to chase away any unwelcome guest. Whirling around, your mouth parted with a warning ready but you stopped short. 

Zagreus flashed you an easy grin, already just a few steps away from you. There was a moment as you and him studied each other, and you wondered if he was struggling with what to say just as you were.

“So how about those apples huh?” Zagreus said, an amused glint in those mismatched eyes. Red and green, they were bright with life. It was beautiful and you found you couldn’t look away. 

You huffed in annoyance but your lips twitched, giving away your smile. And Zagreus just laughed, warm and full of life. 

~

A new cycle began. 

Just as the sun rose in the east and sunk into the west, so did Zagreus. So did you.

You taught him how to plant seeds, taking his hands and pressing them against the cool earth. His amazed face when he saw the spouts, tiny and bright green and helpless, made you laugh. 

You had forgotten the joy of a new discovery. 

You shared everything with him, the taste of apples, the golden barley in the sunset and the quietness of early mornings and the songs of crickets during twilight. Often, you caught his eyes lingering on you but you only turned away, not quite ready to… you weren’t even sure what. 

There was an unfamiliar ache in you, one that you thought you would never feel and you thought how sunflowers chased after the sun, forever pinning and you felt a kinship with them.

In turn, he told you of the underworld, of the shades and gods that made their home there. You tried to imagine it but it all seemed so far away even if you knew you would be among the shades yourself someday.

For now, however, there was the garden. There was you and Zagreus. 

~

"My mother had been asking about you." Zagreus told you one day, his hands were dirty from working the earth but he seemed pleased. His shoulders relaxed and there was a smile that never left his face.

“Oh? What did you tell her?” You asked as you moved away from the roses, freshly pruned and the red petals were bright in the daylight. With a sigh, you joined him under the shade of trees. You folded your hands in your lap as you settled down.

“The usual. I think she misses you, she talks about you often.” Zagrues said, tugging at the grass. There was a hesitation in his tone and you glanced at him with a frown.

“But?” You prompted. It was one of the first things you learned about Zagreus, he was an open book unless he had no choice. 

“She worries about how you are going to handle the upcoming season.” Zagreus said. A breeze came by, and with it, dozens of leaves followed. There was a chill to the air that wasn’t there before. 

With the power of Persephone, the garden only knew everlasting bloom. The life here was lush and full and there had been flowers planted by generations of mothers and daughters that had never been touched by rot or death. 

There was a cycle, and not even the garden of life would be spared. 

Rough fingertips brushed against your knuckles, and you were struck by how much bigger he was. You didn’t pull away. Carefully, he shifted and took one of your hands, his thumb brushing across your skin.  There was dirt but you found that you didn't care, especially since your own hands were marked by the earth.

“I told her I wish I could stay up here with you.” Zagreus said, his voice held an intensity that you weren’t used to. Slowly, you met his eyes and your breath hitched at the closeness. 

“Can you?” You asked quietly. Your heart raced at the thought of having Zagreus with you for longer, that you and him would survive together with the winter to come. That maybe you might allow for more if he could.

At this, Zagreus squeezed your hand. “I want to. But…”

Just like your hope was dashed but you didn’t resent him for it. Zagreus was a bit like a sunflower, blooming only once to chase after the golden rays of light before returning to the earth. 

“Tell her I will be fine.” You said, returning the squeeze. “Tell her I have planned for it. That I am looking forward to resting. I don’t think I've ever seen snow before.”

“And you will stay warm?” Zagreus asked sharply, leaning in closer. You felt like you saw every hues of green and red in those beautiful eyes. He reached brushing a stray hair from your face. 

“Yes. I will.” You said quietly. 

“Good.” Zagreus said, just as quiet.

Then he kissed you. 

It was gentle but warm sparks went off in your core as you carefully returned it. You leaned more into him, just wanting to feel him. Your other hand pressed against his chest, his heart strong under your palm. You felt weightless, like nothing but Zagreus could keep you grounded. 

Even when the kiss broke, the feeling remained. He smiled at you, his cheeks flushed.  

And you kissed him under the canopy of trees, the smell of roses drifting through the air and you felt like the winter itself would never touch you.

~

Flower/plant index

Wheat: Staff of life, Resurrection

Lavender: Devotion, Grace

Lily: Devotion, Purity, Associated with Hera and Zeus

Apples: Love, Good health, Associated with Aphrodite

Yarrow:Courage, Love against all odds, Associated with Achilles

Sunflowers: Unwavering faith, Loyalty, Associated with Apollo and Clytie

Roses: Romantic Love, Passion, Sacrifice, Associated with Aphrodite.

[fairy-writes]

Hello, can I asked for some headcanon of Mycroft Holmes having a crush on Y/n as the little sister of Moriarty Family, please? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

CRUSHES ARE FOR ORDINARY PEOPLE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Mycroft Holmes x Female!Moriarty!Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): FLUFF, Crushes

Notes: I did change it to the Moriarty’s older sister instead of younger because Mycroft is in his 30s while they’re all in their 20s, lol

__________________________________________________________________________

Admittedly, the moment Mycroft realizes he has a crush—and on Albert James Moriarty’s older sister, no less—he panics. 

Him? Have a silly little childish crush on you? Preposterous!

Crushes are for ordinary people. And he is definitely not ordinary.

So he does what any reasonable man would do and buries his feelings. 

You were also his secretary, so it would be a conflict of interest anyway.

Therefore, burying his feelings and hoping they would go away would be the logical option.

At least… until Sherlock finds out.

The teasing was relentless.

Somehow, that information got to Watson. 

And in turn, somehow, that information gets to Albert. 

Albert confronts him about said information one day when no one else is in Mycroft’s office.

“What do you intend to do about it?” He asks his superior, who looks up from his paperwork. 

It would take an idiot to realize what he’s talking about. 

“Absolutely nothing. It’s a conflict of interest and completely inappropriate for the workplace.” Mycroft replies, and Albert nods once, a stern look in his eyes. 

“Good.” He says, clicks his heels together, and leaves with a salute. 

His feelings get harder to ignore the more you show up to his office to work. 

He admires your cleanliness and the dresses you wore (you were always dressed immaculately, which he definitely liked). 

He admires your hard-working attitude and how you smile at him whenever you see him. 

It makes his heart flutter and his feelings that much more difficult to ignore. 

Surprisingly, you approach him one day with a request that blows his expectations out of the water. 

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?” You ask, and he drops his pen in shock. 

The object of his affection asking him to such an intimate affair? 

He’s only human after all. It’s only fair that he would be in shock even if he wasn’t an ordinary person. 

Initially, he declines. 

It was a conflict of interest, and while you knew that, it didn’t stop you from asking again. 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass that it’s improper. I like you and would like to take you out for dinner if you’ll have me.” You say determinedly, and he gapes at your vulgar words.

He forgot that you always spoke your mind and said exactly what you felt. Even if it was against societal expectations of women. 

This, admittedly, makes you embarrassed. 

“Sorry. That was rude of me… I’ll go and—”

“Wait!” He stands behind his desk and rounds it to stand before you. 

He’s a good deal taller. You have to look up to meet his dark eyes. 

But he doesn’t mind. 

In fact, he finds it endearing.

And shockingly (maybe not), he finds himself accepting your invitation. 

His heart stutters at the blinding smile that you direct at him. 

It’s beautiful. 

And the rest is history.