#and when it came down to it she died for them. she was the one who wanted to leave and she died instead of the assholes who messed around

[rebelliousstories]

Not Like The Movies

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Violence

Word Count: 1,688

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: How Cooper got landed with someone of her sunny disposition, he will never now. And it does not help that she knows his films.

“Good morning, you cutie. Oh who’s the best little girl ever?” A feminine voice brought Cooper out of his deep slumber. His eyes had to adjust to the bright light outside that flooded the building they had stayed the night in. He looked around for the source of the noise and was relieved to see it was just his partner playing with DogMeat. The man sat up from the bed that was miraculously in the building that probably used to be someone’s house and began to roll the sleep from his muscles and bones.

“Well, good morning to you, cowpoke.” She greeted, allowing the dog to roam around wherever she pleased.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. Whatcha doin’ up this early?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His boots hit the floor right next to where his partner was, as she sat up on her knees to pull him in close. Physical affection was something Cooper was still not used to after all this time, but he was slowly coming around to it. All of the affection happened behind closed doors, or in this case, a closed house. He still had an image to maintain after all.

“Couldn’t sleep, so I spent some time with Bella.” She said cheerfully into his chest. Cooper just sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Don’t go naming the thing. Then you’ll get too attached and then you’ll be depressed when it dies.” He groaned out, shifting their bodies so their eyes met.

“But she can’t be named ‘DogMeat’. That’s not a proper name,” came her cry. She laid on the puppy eyes really thick.

“DogMeat is a proper name because that’s what it is.” He argued back, tilting her head up by her chin.

“Fine,” she relented, and smushed her face back into his chest. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Well, gotta head into town now. Stock up on some supplies, gather a new bounty hopefully.” Cooper pressed a kiss to her hair, and shuffled so that he could pull both of them up to stand.

“You gonna behave when we get into town?” He drawled, voice leaning into dangerous territory. His partner giggled and nodded her head.

“Of course, Coop. When am I not?” She inquired, biting her lower lip. That woman knew the easiest way to get Cooper riled up was to do just that motion right there. Because, in an instant, his eyes were locked on to her lips.

“What about back in Filly where you kept smilin’ at folks, leaving me to save you from someone’s fist in your face? Huh?” Howard recalled, watching her shift in his arms as she, too, recounted their last adventure into town.

“How was I supposed to know?” Her whimper made Cooper weak, but he had a job to do today.

“Just tone down the sun a little bit, alright? Maybe a nice cloudy day instead of bright ass sunshine.” He offered, bringing her face back up to his. She nodded and stood on her toes to reach his face. Cooperate, ever the gentleman, met her halfway and locked their lips together. They moved as one, letting their lips slide across the other’s. Hands roamed freely, and it was starting to look like they were not going to be making it to town soon. That is, of course, until DogMeat came back in the room with a dead iguana in her mouth. She dropped it on the floor, and pawed at the man and woman who were locked in their embrace. The Ghoul groaned as his partner detached them in favor of tending to the dog he claimed he did not want.

“Good girl. Such a good hunter.” The baby voice was back. Seeing that the dog was getting the attention now, Cooper moved to grab all of his effects from where they were strewn about the room. His duster sat upon his shoulders, while his hat found its spot on his scarred head.

“Come on. Let’s get goin’.” He stated definitely. His saddle bag was slung across his shoulder, and his hand helped navigate his partner through the abandoned house.

They began their trek into town, which thankfully was not too long of a walk. DogMeat followed on the other side of Cooper, hot on his heels. He kept his eyes peeled as they drew further and further into the town. There was a pharmacy, a trader’s hut, several food stalls, and even a mechanics repair shop. Plenty for the two of them. Turning to his partner, he passed her some caps and pointed towards a couple stalls.

“Go get you some dried meat, and get a box of ammunition. Don’t smile so much, alright?” Cooper stressed. She nodded in return and patted his arm as she left with DogMeat.

The Ghoul made his way into the trader’s hut first to find a new bounty that was around. Thankfully, the woman behind the counter had one, and it was simple enough. Someone had not paid her what she was owed, and now she had a hat out on the man. He accepted half of the caps upfront, before moving on to the pharmacy next door. Cooper’s eyes caught his partner and DogMeat traversing the stalls, already having several pouches of meat in her bag.

Which is why he was not afraid to leave her alone while he took his time getting his chems from the pharmacy. Being a ghoul certainly had its drawbacks; the stares, reputation, and fear. But it also held some positives; the stares, reputation, and fear. It certainly helped when acquiring what he needed for a reasonable price. A commotion caught his ears from outside, but he was not afraid that it was his partner.

Until he stepped outside. Cooper saw his partner being crowded against a pile of sheet metal while DogMeat kept barking up a fuss. The dog ran over immediately to the man and began to drag him by his duster over to the woman.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get.” Some man crept into her space, making her cower down even further. Based on what he could see, and the description the trader gave, this must have been the bounty. She did mention that he tended to go where he pleased like he owned it all.

“Please. Let me go.” She whimpered. Her voice was full of fear and worry, and Cooper was not about to let that stand.

“Everyone’s got a price. I can pay whatever your price is.” He continued, placing his hand on the woman’s waist.

“I do believe the lady asked you to let her go.” Cooper finally made his way over. The man turned around, and smiled with blackened teeth.

“Don’t worry, Ghoul. Once I’m done with her, I’m sure you can have a turn. Certainly don’t wanna do it the other way around.” He laughed, as if what he said was the funniest thing in the world. Cooper began to chuckle lowly as he peeked his eyes out from the lip of his hat. Catching his partner’s eyes, she felt relief as she saw her savior in western gear.

“See, she might be bein’ nice and askin’ you to let her go. But I ain’t that nice. So now I’m tellin’ you to let her go. Now.” Cooper growled, feeling his patience wear thin.

“Or what, Ghoul?” The man never got to hear another response. In a flash, Howard had aimed his gun and fired on his legs. Blowing both of them off, the not-so-tough man now crumbled to the ground, screaming and crying, pleading for the ghoul to have mercy on him.

“Well, ain’t that some shit.” The Ghoul growled, tying a rope around the torso of the man, and began to drag him to the trader’s hut. He focused on the task at hand, knowing that DogMeat would take care of anyone else that had dared get close to her owner.

Walking out of the trader’s hut, Cooper’s eyes scanned the town as he tried to find her partner. He found her, hugging her lugs, stuck in the same place that she was being held. DogMeat was chowing down on the legs that were left. His pocket felt heavy with the weight of the caps, but all that mattered now was taking care of her.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” Howard held a hand out for her to grab onto, and she did. Eagerly shoving her face into his chest and letting out a shaky breath as she processed the events that had just unfolded.

“I’m good. Can we go please?” Her words were muffled in his shirt, but he understood them plenty. Calling for DogMeat, Cooper led the three of them out of the town and into somewhere more secluded. Once they were there, tears fell from her eyes as the weight of what happened fully caught up to her. He set her down on something resembling a chair, and squatted down in front to check her over.

“You saved me.” She whispered, letting her partner do what he needed to do.

“Course I did. What’d you expect? Me to leave you with that man?” He countered with a ridiculous tone.

“It’s like one of your old sheriff films.” Her giggles matched his groan as he dropped his head.

“This ain’t the movies, darlin’.” Cooper looked up at her.

“It’s kinda like the movies.” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to bring him in close.

“I can always take you back to that town and leave you there.” He stated in her shoulder. She giggled again.

“That’s not very sheriff-y of you.” Every time he thought he had won, she proved him wrong.

“Alright,” he stood up and took her with him, “let’s get moving. Maybe if we’re lucky we can find another house to sleep in.”

“Ooo, do you think we could find one with a television and a few films?” She teased, already walking off away from town. Cooper groaned, but caught up to her and kept her underneath his arm as they walked away from that town.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Break Ups and Make Ups

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty

Word Count: 3233

Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 

That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 

                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 

                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.

                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.

                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 

                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”

                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.

                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 

                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.

                  “It’s none of your business.” 

                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”

                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.

                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 

                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 

                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”

                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.

                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 

                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 

                  “Where’s Y/N?” 

                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”

                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 

                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.

                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.

                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.

                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”

                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”

                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”

                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.

                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said

                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”

                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,

                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 

                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 

                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 

                  “What do you have?” You asked.

                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”

                  “He never told me about that.” 

                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 

                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”

                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.

                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 

                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 

                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.

                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 

                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 

                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 

                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.

                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 

                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”

                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 

                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 

                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 

                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.

                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.

                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”

                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 

                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 

                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 

                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.

                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 

                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    

                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 

                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 

                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.

                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 

                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 

                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.

                  “You know it.” Dick said.

                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.

                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.

                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.

                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.

                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.

                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.

                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 

                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 

                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.

                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”

                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.

                  “You knew about that?” 

                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.

                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 

                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.

                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 

                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.

                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.

                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 

                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.

                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 

                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 

                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.

                  “Yes, absolutely.” 

                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 

                  “I did too.” 

                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (4)

(1) (2) (3)

Palestine: what can you do

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.

In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them. 

You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.

Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out. 

Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse. 

Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible. 

Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds. 

At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you. 

“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace. 

Abby growls louder. 

“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”

Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down. 

“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility. 

This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.  

“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again. 

You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.

“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”

Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her. 

“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses. 

“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”

You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck! 

The wolf stomps after you.

“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf. 

“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.

“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her. 

But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back. 

“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”

“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.

“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it  makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.

For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath. 

“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face. 

The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you. 

Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before. 

Well. She can play nice too. 

“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!

You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces. 

It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation. 

“You didn't have tattoos before.” 

You smirk sadly. 

“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”

How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?

“So you still do deals.” 

“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”

“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”

“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”

“I heal fast.”

“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”

Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?

“How far is too far?” 

“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”

Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you. 

You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away. 

It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)

You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all. 

“It's bad.” You laugh. 

“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”

You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad. 

(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life). 

“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”

“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous. 

“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.” 

Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it. 

“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”

“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute. 

“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer. 

Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried. 

“Do you have any meat?”

“...No.”

“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes. 

“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.” 

That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo. 

“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.  

You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.

After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes. 

She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now. 

You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you. 

“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”

Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her? 

“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?

“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.” 

“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.

“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”

Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad. 

“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way. 

“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”

Abby hums, thinking it over.

“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”

“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return. 

The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous. 

The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house. 

“Why don't you use wood like normal people?” 

“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.” 

Abby huffs. 

“So you rely on your magic all the time.”

“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan. 

Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night. 

You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised. 

You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

full hcs for what post-route m6 would say if they got to talk to pre-memory loss mc for a few minutes?

The Arcana HCs: Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC

Julian

He's sorry

There's a lot more he wants to say, but he begins with a stream of apologies when the person in front of him isn't the investigator who became his ally, but the assistant he failed to protect

He's not proud of it, but for a moment he feels himself slip back into who he used to be

Someone whose value lay solely in how useful he could be to someone else, self-hatred creeping back in like an estranged family member when he sees how useless he was to you

But the you from back then, standing in the middle of the plague and seeing someone stronger, better-fed, less sleep-deprived, the you from back then can see that he's grown. He's happy

The you from back then only seems to want to know if the plague you died trying to make up for had a cure, and if the doctor you lost your life assisting was ever able to find it

And he did. Twice. Without having to prove himself to anyone

Asra

Oh, how they used to miss this version of you

There's so much running through his head. On the surface, it's the first and only chance he's really had to see the difference between who you were when he lost you and who you are now

But deeper, it's the wave of phantom pains, pulling them under and back to when they would've given anything to see this version of you again, when they waded through hell to get you back

And the fear, flashing up from an underlying simmer, that the you then and the you now are so irreconcilably different that there's only one of you he can truly love

As they fold you into the kind of hug that only old friends share, the first difference they notice is that your heart doesn't beat in time with theirs the way they're used to - and it's their revelation

He had enough love in his heart for who you were - and it grew to love you back into his life - and more again to hold both of you in the current one. He has enough for every piece of who you are

Nadia

She's ... humbled, a little

The you that she knows and loves now is someone who has faced down the terrifying and illogical with her, who has supported her through the rejuvenation of an entire city

But the person standing in front of her reminds her more of the person who first walked in through the Palace gates

You're ... normal

Not in a bad way at all, but - you look like every other citizen her carriage passes on her way through the streets. She's reminded all over again how important seeing you in her dream was

Because if you hadn't been pointed out to her, if your first proper meeting hadn't been you freeing her from three years of nightmare plagued sleep, she would have never thought to seek you out

So when the you from the past seems surprised to see the elusive Countess, not nearly as well-known as her extravagant husband

All she really wants to do is thank you by showing you your worth

Muriel

Well. This is awkward. And that's coming from him

There's a well of emotions swirling in him as he looks at you, at the you that Asra left the hut to live with, at the you that took his only found family from him, at the you he came to resent

Because if the worst he can see when he looks at you is someone who captured more of his friend's attention than he did -

What do you see when you look at him?

The you from the past wouldn't have known him when he was retired and forgotten, the you from the past would've known him when he was a gladiator

Or more accurately, when he was the Count's executioner

He's not sure it's good for either of you to be looking at each other

But he can't turn away, and that's because not only do you not seem to be afraid of him, you won't stop looking at him

Your gaze feels the same. Exposing. Open. And though this one is considerably less affectionate - safe, somehow

Portia

She is both starstruck and deeply disappointed

Starstruck because the person she's looking at seems a lot more put together than who you are now, if a little less ... developed

Your magic hovers around you like an old friend and your eyes seem a little more sure about where they want to look

And that's exactly why she's also a little disappointed

Because you aren't like the person she loves now in that way. Who you are now is always looking, always soaking up the world around you like a sponge, because so much of it is still new to you

And nothing seems new to the past you - not even her

She's so happy to take your hands in hers and ask you all about who you've been and collect all the stories and fill in all the gaps she can, to better know how you got to where you are now

And then when the visit's over, she'll happily wave goodbye and walk forward to who you are now

But not without a word of encouragement to her darling first

Lucio

Oh. Ohhh boy

You see, he was fortunate to meet you when you knew fairly little enough to encounter him with an open mind. By the time you learned about his horrible past, you knew his present self

But past you ... past you seems to know quite a bit more

And he doesn't like the way you look at him

There's an edge of uneasiness to the way he plasters on a smile and loudly calls your name, only to be met with a gaze that's polite at best

You're not supposed to be polite to him, you're supposed to love him, to want him, to admire him when he's done good and call him out when he's done bad and forgive him when he tries to do better

At the same time, this is the version of you whose death he knows he's responsible for. It makes him wonder if he's a bad person for being relieved that you changed before meeting him

He'll be happy to leave - but he does manage an apology, first

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

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[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

Now that the nausea was behind her, Mystique was starting to enjoy pregnancy again. It wasn’t as nice as the first time, obviously, what with her being stranded in the wild territories away from her Folk, but there were perks. For one, she got her pick of the prey and plenty of it. Whenever Russetfrond would get after her for being “gluttonous”, she would remind him she was eating for three and that would shut down any kind of argument. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed like he was putting in extra hunting trips just for her which was nice. 

As well, she had been able to use her growing stomach as an excuse to stop running combat drills with the Clan cats. Despite their attempts to keep it from her, she had inevitably learned about their plans to murder Razor and she wasn’t going to have any part in that. True, he wasn’t a good cat, she had come to accept that, but that didn’t mean they had to kill him. Still, Scorch in particular seemed insistent that it was the only option and she had a powerful hold over Goldenstar, or so it seemed. 

Mystique often turned her options over in her head while she sunbathed, trying to think of an alternative solution, one where no one else died and she got to go home as soon as possible. She always came up short. When it came down to it, she was just one cat. What could she do? So she tried not to think about it and focused on getting plenty of food and rest. 

Today, she was resting on top of the warriors’ den in a warm beam of sunlight, idly watching the goings on. Oddstripe and Aldertail were sharing tongues in the shade. Scorch finished talking with Goldenstar in hushed voices then joined Pantherhaze, Slatepaw, and Fogpaw as they headed out of camp. The little white tabby jumped in excitement, making Mystique laugh. It was strange to see a cat that looked so much like Ghost moving with that kind of energy instead of stomping around like an old curmudgeon. 

The new kitten, Lake, padded out of the nursery and stretched with a big yawn. Aldertail looked up and waved her over with a smile. 

Oddstripe grinned too and called, “Afternoon, Lake! How are you feeling?”

“Lots better!” Lake purred, padding over to them. “Those weird plants you gave me helped lots!” She was looking better too. Her ribs were slightly less visible under her fur, her coat glossier. Mystique had never seen a kitten look so poorly before. It was reassuring to see her improving so quickly. 

“Aren’t they something?” Aldertail chuckled. “Are you hungry?” 

“Oh, yeah,” nodded Lake. “Starving!” 

“I’ll grab you something,” said Aldertail, jumping to her paws. 

“Gee, thanks miss!” the kitten said as if it were a rare wonder. Oddstripe smiled and pulled the kitten close to give her a few licks around the ears. She giggled and sat up tall to let him. Aldertail quickly returned with a bird from the prey pile and the two adults sat back and watched as the kitten tucked into it voraciously. Mystique caught them glancing at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It made her skin crawl, just a little, which she felt guilty for. 

She stood, hoping to get away for a bit and put them out of mind. She noticed Aldertail stiffening when she did, eyes darting over like Mystique was about to lunge for her, claws bared. She groaned under her breath and started out into the grass. 

“Uh, Mystique, hold up,” called Sparrowpaw who was on guard duty. “Where are you going?” She’d nearly forgotten he was there. 

“For a walk,” she shrugged, “I just want to be… away from here.” 

“Well, I’ll come with you,” he said. It was a statement of fact, not an offer. She sighed. He was like a smaller, more pleasant Russetfrond. 

“Fine, whatever,” she sighed. “I’m going to the river.” 

“Alright,” Sparrowpaw said. “That’s okay.” She lashed her tail. 

“I know,” she growled. “I wasn’t asking.” Back home, no one treated her this way. No one ever told her what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. Sure, Razor had jobs for her every now and then but those were things that needed to be done, not arbitrary restrictions on her free time. She was sick of it. 

Sparrowpaw blinked in surprise but said nothing - a victory for her. She made her way briskly towards the river, not worrying about her long strides out pacing her smaller companion. Her back was starting to ache and all she could think about was dunking herself in some cool, fresh water. 

When they reached the river, she slipped into the water without hesitation, sighing in relief at the sense of weightlessness. She rolled over to make sure all of her fur was doused thoroughly then threw her head back to get the water out of her eyes as she came up for air. She hummed pleasantly and looked over to see her chaperone hovering near the bank. 

“Come on in,” she said, jerking her head in invitation. “The water’s great.” 

“I’m alright,” said Sparrowpaw, settling down. “You really enjoy getting wet?”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s literally the best. I don’t know why so many cats are scared of it.” 

“It’s not… scary,” he said, “just really unpleasant.” 

“Weirdo!” Mystique called, easing herself down into the shallows to let the water flow over her. 

“Maybe,” Sparrowpaw laughed awkwardly. They sat there in silence for a good, long while. Mystique closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun and just let herself enjoy the moment. She tried not to think about home or her Folk or her brother. 

“Can I ask you a question?” said Sparrowpaw at one point. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. 

“Have you considered maybe staying after the kittens are born?” he asked. “Like, joining the Clan full time?”

“No,” Mystique said flatly. “No, I’m going back home the first chance I get.” 

“Why?” asked Sparrowpaw. 

“Uh, ‘cause it sucks out here?” she said. “You don’t know any better cause this is all you’ve ever seen, but being Exalted is a million times better than living out in the dirt and the heat. I get free food any time I want it. I have a soft bed and lots of great toys and it's always the perfect temperature inside. My Folk give me tons of attention and pets. Have you ever been pet before? It's the best.” She glanced over her shoulder at Sparrowpaw to find him looking unconvinced. 

“I haven’t,” he said. “But don’t you think you would enjoy the freedom of living out here? There's satisfaction in hunting for your food and supporting your Clan.” He seemed so earnest, it was almost sad.

“No thanks,” Mystique snorted. “Not interested.” 

He frowned. “I mean, if you stayed, maybe you and Russetfrond could stay together. I’m sure that you could make up if -”

“Look, kid,” she rolled over to look at him head on. “I don’t really care about trying to ‘make up’ with Bee Face Mc Pouterson.” Sparrowpaw’s ears pressed back against his head. “He was a bit of fun, nothing more than that. Honestly, he’s not even really my type, I was just bored.”

“O-oh,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. He looked pale. Mystique sighed. Maybe she had been too hard on the poor boy. Or maybe she’d traumatized him with her casual language. Clearly, these wild cats didn’t know how sex worked.

“What I mean to say is, it’s fine,” she said, swiping a wet paw over her face to cool it off. “I’ll have the kits and then go home. He’s happy, I’m happy, win-win.” 

“Right,” Sparrowpaw said. “I guess we’ll just have to hope things go well.” 

Mystique squinted. “You mean with the plan to kill my brother.” 

Sparrowpaw paled further. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I thought you didn’t know about that.” 

“I’m not dumb kid,” she said, “plus the camp is small. Sound travels.”

“Right…” He looked down at his paws, tail curling around them. “I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” 

“Why does it?” Mystique sat up a little taller. “Why can’t we just, like, talk to him?” 

“Because we tried that,” Sparrowpaw said, looking up at her. “He killed Smokyrose.” 

Mystique’s voice caught in her throat in a frustrated lump. “That was… That was an extreme circumstance,” she said. “It wouldn’t happen again.” 

“You have to know that’s not true, right?” Sparrowpaw said earnestly. “I mean, he’s your brother. How can you not see what he’s like?” 

“You don’t know him!” snapped Mystique, slapping one paw loudly against the surface of the water. Sparrowpaw flinched at the noise and she briefly felt guilty but she shoved the feeling down. “He’s my brother. He’s not a monster.” 

“Sorry,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Mystique sighed, a deep frown creasing her face. He almost sounded like Aldertail. It made the Shadow Truth wriggle deep in her gut, worming its way closer to her conscious mind. She dunked her head under the water to try and get away from the feeling but even the cold shock didn’t help much. She sighed, stood, and shook out her pelt, spattering the sand with droplets. 

“I think I’m done,” she grumbled and headed back to camp to sulk.

[kit-williams]

My Little Bonded

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

also @bispecsual since you seemed to like him

Troc the Defiler... Troc the Despoiler of the Samsan system... Troc... Troc the Failure. He thought bitterly looking down as his hooves splashed water as he roamed through the forest. Troc had been in a haze since his bonded had died upon that alter... new skulls and helmets hung from his hips and his flanks but it all felt so bitter and empty.

No matter how much pain he inflicted on those killers... no matter how much he reared back and snapped limbs with his hooves slamming down... no matter how much his front legs had been covered in gore as the bodies underneath his hooves were turned to paste... no matter what vengeance he did... it would not bring them back.

He snarled as his hoof buffeted a tree till it fell over. He snarled and roared in pained rage! Why would the dark gods abandon them like this?! What plan was THIS!? What plan had them feel such PAIN?! What pleasured delights awaited him to feel such AGONY?! Such agony in his soul! The crevice between his two hearts ACHED!

Mommy! Daddy! A voice carried through the wind and his hand shook as it curled into a fist as wrath flooded his veins. Torc wanted to cause hurt and pain just as he was hurting and in pain. The voice sounded young... he would cause them so much hurt. He felt alive again!

The rain had picked up as he stalked his quarry as his mind caught sight of the small child in the pink raincoat. They stood at the edge of the large sunflower field just crying loudly in that mournful way that little humans cry. He looked at them wickedly as he thought of all the different ways he could leave them to die... would he just crush their little bones under his hooves? Would he snap their limbs in twisted ways as they screamed in agony? His hoof crushed a rotting log in front of him as they turned around with fearful eyes.

Those weeping brown eyes just looking up at him... Torc felt something in him BREAK. He held out his arms as he knelt down and embraced the crying bundle trying to soothe her. His claws not touching her lest he shred the pink little jacket apart as he was able to figure out that she had gone into the sunflower field with her family and they were running around... and when she came out she wasn't where she started. She sniffled loudly as she was tired and cold and wanted to go home... she wanted her mommy and her daddy...

"I am Torc little one." He said half curling around her as he got to his hooves once more trying to keep her somewhat dry.

"Hi Truck!" She said looking up at him with a smile. His hearts fluttered at the gap toothed smile as long gone were the thoughts of cruelty and malice... long gone were the thoughts of joining the monsters that kept taking his bonded away... no now what mattered was the happy voice in his arms telling him how pretty he looked.

And Torc was happy with that.

[myimaginationplain]

I've found that when it comes to discussing who has the best claim to the iron throne and/or the Targaryen dynasty, there's often this implicit assumption that when Jon finds out about his true parentage, the knowledge will inevitably leak to the general Westerosi public. People love to theorize about whether or not the Northerners would continue to support Jon if his being Rhaegar's son came to light, or if he would be pushed as heir to the iron throne over Dany & Aegon, & I'm just like...how would any of them find out about it? Why would any of them find out about it?

I feel like some people believe that when Jon finds out about R + L = J, he'll, I dunno, send out news letters about it or something? Publicly renounce his status as Eddard Stark's son? I don't exactly understand what people think Jon would do with the information, but anything less than keeping as tight a lid on it as possible would be very out of character for Jon. Guys, we're talking about the same guy who purposefully gave a young mother the wrong baby. He's not gonna be cavalier about this.

The only people we can really be certain he'd feel the need to tell the truth to are Arya & Sansa. We know that Bran is likely to already know the truth himself by then through his greenseer tree-god bullshit; Rickon, even if he is found & taken to Winterfell by the time the other siblings reconvene (which I find highly unlikely), would probably be considered too young to trust with information like that.

Daenerys is also an extremely likely candidate for being one of the few people Jon would tell, although this is variable, as it depends on what sort of relationship you believe she & Jon will have by the time R + L = J is revealed. I for one am betting on she & Jon already being involved in some capacity by the time he finds out, thus making her one of the people he'd tell. But if you're in the camp of people who think they'll be enemies by then, he probably wouldn't tell her in that scenario.

Sam is furthest down on the very short list of people Jon would probably tell. I think it's likely, seeing how much he trusts Sam & leans on him for support. But still, it's not a sure thing.

So, including Howland Reed (who has successfully kept the secret for ~17 years now), that makes just 6-7 people who would be privy to Jon's parentage. None of whom would have much motivation to go screaming about it from the hilltops in any scenario where they're still behaving like themselves. (If any of you bring up show!Sansa here, then I'm gonna beat you with a hammer. Don't be a hypocrite; if you can acknowledge & accept that literally every other character was wildly ooc in Season 8, then do the same with Sansa. Betraying Jon's trust after swearing not to before a heart tree is just as ooc for book!Sansa as purposefully burning Kings' Landing to ash would be for book!Daenerys.)

Even in the event that Jon rides a dragon, I think that can easily be explained away by lying about Jon's mother. "Oh, why can I ride a dragon? Not many people know this, but my mother was actually a Lyseni whore. You know they have some Valyrian blood in them. She died in childbirth, though, which is why my lord father took me in." Who's gonna call his bluff on that? Ned's resolute silence on Jon's mother would absolutely work in his favor. The historical precident set by Nettles & others like her means that Jon can 100% just say his mother was the daughter of some unknown dragonseed or something.

IMO, the real question we should be asking is, if Jon were to have children, would he ever tell them the truth?

[morbidology]

16-year-old Sylvia Likens was the daughter of two carnival workers, but when her parents' separated and her mother was jailed for shoplifting, somebody needed to care for her. Ultimately, Sylvia and her sister, Jenny, were sent to live with Gertrude Baniszwewski and her family, paying them $20 to take care of the two girls.

When the payments were late, Baniszwewski would turn on the girls, particularly Sylvia. She would hit the girls with paddles, and whip them. Being fragile and asthmatic herself, Baniszwewski recruited her children and neighbourhood children to subject Sylvia to horrendous abuse over the period of three months.

This abuse included putting cigarettes out on her skin, burning her with scalding water, beating her, rubbing salt in her wounds, forcing her to eat things which would cause her to vomit and on at least two occasions, she was sexually assaulted with a Coca-Cola bottle. On another occasion, a neighbourhood boy, Coy Hubbard, used her to practice his judo, which as a result, caused her to become incontinent. Baniszwewski responded to this by forcing her to eat her own faeces as well as her one-year-old sons.

Jenny, Sylvia’s sister attempted to get help and contacted their older sister, Diana, who came to the house yet did nothing to help. Shortly before her death, Baniszewski took a hot needle and carved “I’m a prostitute and proud of it!” on Sylvia’s stomach. A neighbourhood boy, Richard Hobbs, helped. He also helped 10-year-old Shirley Baniszewski burn the number “3” into her chest with an iron poker. The night before Sylvia died, she attempted to escape the house of horrors. She was caught by Baniszewski who threw her down the stairs into the cellar which had become her home.

The next day, on October 26, 1965, Sylvia’s body gave up after the countless beatings, burnings, sexual assaults, and lack of food and water. She died of a brain haemorrhage, shock, and malnutrition. She had suffered unimaginable torment. Her body was covered in wounds, bruises, and burns. In her final moments, she had almost completely severed her lips with her teeth from the beatings.

Gertrude received a life sentence while the younger assailants received petty sentences and were all released and went on to lead normal lives, something Sylvia could never do. Disgustingly enough, Gertrude was released for good behaviour after just a measly fourteen years in prison.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Part 3

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: Everyone is confused, nothing makes sense and what does Romanoff know?

Chapter Warning: Mentions of vomiting, sad Steve, sad Bucky.

It didn’t take long for the team to jump into action, naturally separating to try and best support their soul brothers.

Sam and Tony followed the heaving of Steve into the bathroom, Rhodey started pulling out cold bottles of water from the refrigerator. Bruce, Natasha and Wanda knelt in front of Bucky as Vision took the photos Wanda was holding scanning through quickly for anymore of their soulmate before putting them and the frames back into the print room.

Steve had finally lost it, he thought to himself as he harshly threw up the sandwich Sam had made him at lunch. First he sacrifices himself and then he’s in the ice for seventy years, he wakes up in a fake room and his first thought is his soulmate, then Bucky, followed by ‘why is this room fake’, and he runs. Everything is different, absolutely everything. He’s never felt so alone. He meets the team and discovers their his soul friends, making them soul family. None of it makes sense. Why did he have a soul brother, Bucky, and a shared soulmate, for everyone else to be in this new life. It makes no sense and he still feels alone. Nat and Clint are close, Bruce and Tony bond over science and Thor leaves to return his wayward brother to Asgard. He finds Peggy but there’s no sign of their soulmate. They’ve been deleted from every statement, every plan, even archive footage and then in a lucid moment Peggy mentions their girl was admitted to a mental institution. Shipped home and locked up, she says, and for a moment she tells him how she tried to get a guardianship in place but then she’s gone again. Lucid moment over.

After the fall of S.H.E.I.L.D and before Ultron, Steve breaks down, too much Asgardian mead in his system and too many soulmate couples around. He doesn’t even have a grave to lay flowers at. Pepper and Nat wrap him in a hug, Tony starts looking through his Dad’s old paperwork, Sam starts looking for graves as well as looking for Bucky and then Natasha looks again. Not like she hasn’t looked a hundred times already and there’s no sign of their soulmate anywhere. Then Peggy’s estate is finalised and a British agent, double 0 something hands Steve a file during a liaison meeting and their soulmate is found. There’s no photographs but it’s full of information, her role within British Special Forces, a rarity even during the war. How Peggy had seen some of her mapping and plans and had snatched their girl away to work with her and The Howling Commandos and then the mental institution. Steve thinks about that file and decides he needs to look at it again, for what will probably be the thousandth time. He tries to get up but struggles. He hears Sam’s voice and there’s hands around him pulling him to his feet.

Sam guides him out of the cubicle and to the sink where he washes his hands and face. Tony appears from somewhere with a toothbrush and mouthwash. They both look concerned but also confused. Neither knowing what to say. The silence is broken by Rhodey entering the bathroom and handing Steve a bottle of water.

“You OK?” he asks. Tony and Sam roll their eyes.

“Not exactly.”

“That was a stupid question wasn’t it?”

“You think?” “Yep” came Tony and Sam’s replies.

“Barnes needs you. He’s not responding to the others.”

“Shit” and Steve’s feet are moving before the rest of him is engaged and he’s almost falling into the corridor before he knows where he is.

“Buck?”

The others pull away and Steve is pulling him to his feet. He hugs him with everything he can, even in his washed out state. Bucky pulls away and finally speaks again.

“It makes no sense Stevie.”

Broken. That’s how Bucky sounds and Steve is pulling him back into his arms. The team watch them as they seek comfort in each other. Wondering if this is how they were before but with their soulmate between them. Comfortable in each other’s presence. Bucky comfortable with affection and Steve open about his emotions.

“I know Buck but it means she’s here. We’ve found her. We’ve got our girl back.”

Tony brushed a stray tear from his cheek and cleared his throat.

“Does someone want to start explaining? And by someone, I mean you Romanoff, and don’t think you three are exempt from this either.” Tony said, pointing at Bruce, Vision and Wanda. “Do you remember when we came back here? When we came back together? We made a promise? No more secrets.”

“Tony.” Bruce went to interrupt, keen to defend his own soulmate.

“No, we don’t brush over this. You’ve known for how long? HOW LONG?” Tony snapped. The team jumped in surprise, even the super soldiers, surprised by his outburst. Tony could barely stand them at the moment and now he was sticking up for them.

“What’s going on?” Pepper’s voice suddenly added to the conversation as she joined them in the corridor. She wrapped her arms around Tony and he held her tightly. Pepper’s eyes scanned the team as she leaned out of the embrace. Wanda and Nat looked tearful, everyone looked puzzled. “OK, let’s try again, what’s going on? Why are you watching Steve and Bucky hugging? Should I call the therapist again?”

Sam was the first to break and let out a small laugh, nervous laughter but it set Rhodey off too.

“You know I didn’t think our whole soul family thing could be anymore fucked up but here we are.”  He laughed out.

“But really should I call the therapist?” Pepper asked.

Calmed by his soulmate’s presence, Tony was the first to answer.

“Pep, I love your dedication towards us figuring out this mashed up family but the therapist can’t help with this one.”

Steve smiled softly at them both, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Bucky pulled away from Steve and stepped towards Pepper, passing the photos to her.

“She’s pretty. Who is she?”

“She’s our girl.” Bucky almost whispered. It didn’t slip Pepper how broken Bucky sounded or that his eyes were bloodshot and his face was wet with tears or that Steve looked like he’d seen a ghost. He kind of had. It also didn’t slip passed her that their soulmate wasn’t alone in these pictures.

“You knew? You two knew? You promised me Natasha. You promised me you looked. That you tried to find her!”

Natasha went to speak but Pepper was quick to cut her off.

“I don’t want to hear it. Everyone in meeting room four now. Two days. I’m gone for two days and this happens.”

Pepper stormed down the corridor with a smug looking Tony trailing behind. He loved it when she was assertive.

One by one the team joined them. Bucky was first, sitting immediately across from Pepper and he didn’t miss that although the therapist may not have been present, she’d picked the room most like a therapists. Soft couches and pillows, with plants dotted around.

“Please may I have her back?” Bucky asked Pepper.

“Her?”

“The photos I mean, I’d like to look at them please.”

“Sorry Bucky of course” she replied passing them back.

“You holding up OK?” Tony asked, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Not really.”

Rhodey was next to enter, coffees in his hand, passing one to Tony and one to Bucky. Thank yous were muttered as a sheepish Wanda entered carrying a tray with a pot of camomile tea and cups, followed by Vision. Sam was next with more coffees, followed by an uneasy looking Nat and Bruce. Steve was last carrying the file. The file double o something had given him placing it on the table. Tony noticed the handwriting immediately. Peggy Carter’s.

The atmosphere was uneasy as Steve looked around the room, he glanced to his left where Bucky sat alongside him, full of emotions. He knew then he needed to take the lead, push his emotions to one side, piece this together and get their girl back. He sat straight in the chair and in what the team had called his ‘Captain voice’ broke the silence.

“Romanoff start talking.”

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Saw alotta dis so uhh.. Is aether an option by any chance?

The creator had:

Twin blonds

WC: 900~

I actually really like aether, I tend to characterize him as rather wholesome, at least in his traveler form.

I'm sure that traveler aether would be so much shier about his attraction that you would have to start any intimate interaction while abyss aether is more forward with his attraction.

“Thanks for the help traveler, without your help we wouldn't be able to hold the celebration” Aether is famously known across teyvat for how helpful he is, always so eager to take the load off of anyone's shoulders.

“let me give you a reward"

“Hm? Ningguang already gave me the reward” looks at you curiously, maybe there was a mistake while arranging this? After all, the commission was a last second thing.

“I know that, I meant a more personal reward, only if you wanted” finally noticing the innuendo he swallows hard, swiftly looking over at paimon to find her swallowing canapes and desserts but seemingly the time he spent thinking about it made you think it was a refusal “oh, well, nevermind, let's enjoy the party” you pass bye him towards the entrance but he stops you, a firm hand around your arm.

“I didn't mean it like I don't want, I just… Didn't expect it, I guess” seeing him so cute you can't help yourself and lean forward, your lips half open, an invitation that he soon takes.

A while later you both appear in the party, alibis pointing to each other being somewhere different.

“didnt expect you to come here so soon” as you open the door you see the prince standing in the middle of your room, an almost indistinguishable shape amongst the shadows.

“I would say the same. I would have expected you to stay in the party for a while longer, your grace”

Your hands signal a burgundy splatter on the top “drunkard's accidents. I came to clean myself” you walk the the wardrobe, pulling another tunic from there “I also saw a hydro mage in the garden from one of the second floor windows and guessed your would be here or arrive soon”

He sighs sitting down on your bed “I held some hope they would be more careful with this mission but seems I was wrong. I hoped I would be able to talk with you when you came after the party”

“almost everyone is drunk and I greeted everyone important, I can spare some minutes"

“I will make sure to use them wisely then”

“Won't you even tell me where your lover is from?” Nahida is sitting criss-cross playing stacking cubes with the blond children, a set of twins.

“I’m sorry but I won't” you see her shoulders slouch while she builds a block tower with the twins, almost disappointed.

“Could it be kaveh? They are blond like him” she pops up an idea, seeing how fixated the girl twin was with building the tallest column and how the boy was focus.

“Fine, will tell you he isn't from Sumeru” even if she seemed bummed out about it at least she sighed and stretched her legs.

“Well… technically his mom is fontanian now so maybe...”

“It's not kaveh.”

“Finee”

“Such energetic toddlers” Raiden watches from the top of the stairs, two eleven month olds trying to learn how to walk and repetitively failing and rising to try again.

“Yes, I had to get a nanny for each if them, whenever I left them in their playpen at least one would sneak out and start crawling around, I was worried they would try to go up the stairs and hurt themselves”

“Ah!” The boy yelps as he manages to stand up for a second but falls down after attempting his first step. Before he starts wailing his sister pats his back.

“ I will miss him” Nahida pouts, her eyes almost glassing over. The twins had reunited at last and left, not without giving all a hug, yours being particularly long and specially melancholic.

“You know” you say as you put your hand on her head, the archons standing alongside you “we will have something to remind us of him” she looks up at you curiously with her wet eyes.

“indeed, the changes they produced in our nations won't be easily forgotten and we will be able to remember him because of it”

“That might be true, zhongli, but I meant something else, something that will grow alongside us” nobody said a word, the meaning totally understood by all of them. Nahida hugs your leg and zhongli rests a hand on your shoulder blade.

“Prince did you manage to make the purest grace to agre with our plan and make the nations surrender?” a cryo mage speaks the next morning, rubbing his hands together.

“I didn't manage to cramp that in, when their grace wasn't present people started looking for them”

“I understand…” even if he wanted to doubt him what he did in that while he knew that wouldn't end nicely for him.

“Aetherrr”paimon whines over his shoulder, tugging the loose hairs behind his ears “we spent 20 minutes looking at toys”

“I want to give nice and thoughtful gifts to their grace's children” aether ignores her, still wondering if buying more furniture for their dollhouse or a Natlan sport ball. Both of them play doll house and football but which would be best?

“Just give them whatever, I doubt anyone would spend so much thinking about their gift. Just because they are twins and you are a twin doesn't mean you share any special link”

“yeah, you are right” it's not because of that reason that he is so focused but at least it works as a common excuse of seeing himself and his lost sister in them.

“Now will you hurry?”

“Haha, no”

[prythiansfavoritefox]

Elain focused on her breathing, trying to steady them. 1, 2, 3. She had had the dream again. The dream that was not a dream, but an unfortunate reality she had to relive every time she fell asleep.

Her father, who had died in front of their very eyes. Her father who had been depressed and disabled for much of his life, but came back to fight for them in the end. Who had been so heartlessly murdered by the King of Hybern.

She took a shaky breath as the tears began to fall down her face. She missed her father so badly, but she could not speak to this with her sisters, who had resented him greatly. And she understood, she really did, but...it would be nice to speak to someone who truly loved him for once.

Alas, there was no one to speak to but a cold grave. Getting up, Elain brushed her hair, sweeping it into an elegant bun. She hesitated, looking at the coat in the closet before deciding she didn't have the strength to fight her need for comfort. She threw on the coat, savoring the lingering scents on it.

Nobody else appeared to be awake. Good. She wished to take this journey alone without being followed or questioned. She wasn't stupid; she knew Nuala and Cerridwen had been set on her to keep track of her movements. Well, there was little she could do to counter that. At least she could befriend them and try to get them on her side so she could gain benefits.

The entire Inner Circle would probably faint with shock if they saw that Elain had taken such a long journey on her own two feet. It's not proper for a lady to walk this far! She's too delicate to walk this much! Pahhh. They always seemed to forget that they would all be dead were it not for her killing the King of Hybern. It wasn't something she much liked to talk about because of her aversion to violence, but some days she wished to scream it so that they'd think she's actually worth something.

Hell, Cassian would be dead too were it not for her. He had lost so much blood due to the shredded wings that he had been inches away from death. Elain had used her healing powers on him, and Cassian, half-delirious with blood loss, had not realized what she'd done. Not even Elain knew how she'd done it, considering when Feyre had been bleeding and dying months later, she had been unable to summon the powers again, no matter what she did.

The only good thing about that was that Nesta had managed to save them and the Inner Circle didn't know about her raw magic, otherwise they would find a way to use her too. No, better they think her a useless silly little thing.

As she walked towards the headstone, to her surprise, she already found somebody there, kneeling beside him. For a wild moment, Elain thought that it might be Nesta. She knew she had somewhat made her peace with him recently, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm. She began to run towards her father's resting spot, crying out, "Nesta!" The person beside the grave turned around. Elain's words died in her throat.

"You're-you're not Nesta." Way to be fucking obvious, Elain. But she could hardly think with him near her. When she wasn't dreaming of her father's death and stabbing the King of Hybern, she was dreaming of him.

Well, shit. She was wearing the cloak Lucien had given her that day by the Cauldron. How embarrassing. Her face went beet red as Lucien's eyes focused on her, taking note of her bare legs and the cloak around her shoulders. Her body began to pulse everywhere from her chest to between her legs, and she knew Lucien could hear it. She clenched her hands in her dress, resisting the urge to grab him at that very moment and kiss him senseless. That would be highly inappropriate; they were at her father's grave, for god's sake.

"Elain," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear it, leaping to his feet and bowing to her. "Apologies, lady. I shall leave you to grieve in peace."

Elain grabbed his wrist as he was about to leave. How could she have forgotten? He'd known her father. He'd gone to the continent and brought him back based on her vision. "Please," she breathed. "Stay."

Lucien looked at her hand then back into her eyes. "Ok," he said slowly. He lowered himself down to the grave again, Elain going with him. They sat there in comfortable silence for some time before Elain whispered, "You knew him. My father."

"Yes, I knew Tristan. He was a good man, at least in the time I knew him," he replied. "Feyre never seemed too fond of him, though."

Elain sighed. "Feyre and Nesta never forgave him for leaving us to fend for ourselves during poverty."

"Well, I can't blame them." Elain opened her mouth to protest, but he went on. "But he'd lost his wife and could hardly walk. I don't blame him for hurting either. He tried his best, in the end, to do right by you girls."

Elain nodded. "Poor Papa. Feyre and Nesta were always snapping at him for making his little wood carvings instead of finding a way out of poverty. Perhaps if they'd been a little gentler with him, he might have..." a sigh. "Anyway, he's gone now."

Lucien squeezed her hand. "No one dies as long as their reputation lasts." Elain snorted lightly. "Are you some sort of philosopher or something?" Lucien raised his brows teasingly. "Maybe I am."

Elain couldn't resist smiling back. "What was he like? Papa. With you."

Lucien smiled reminiscently. "He was a very single-minded person. He might have only been human, yet he could command a room with his voice. Very charming, very forthright. And he couldn't shut up about you girls." He laughed. "I remember when I finally told him that we're mates, he grilled me for hours. About my birth, my occupations, my habits. Internally I was terrified of disappointing him, but at the end he just handed me a drink and said, 'You don't look quite like the man I imagined my Elain will marry, but you certainly act like the man I want her to marry.' Then he told me stories about all your childhoods for the rest of the night."

Elain beamed. That sounded a lot more like her father before their family had been lost to poverty. It made her happy that her father was able to be more like himself with someone before he'd left. "Thank you for telling me this," she murmured. "It's nice to talk to someone who knew him as I did."

Lucien inclined his head. "Happy to be of service, my lady."

Elain leaned her head against his shoulder and did not move for a long time.

Inspired by the post I saw a while ago saying Lucien visits Papa Archeron's grave!

[white-00-7]

The fallen

Lucifer x reader

( after Adam died)

Part1

It was a regular day in the hazbin hotel. Charlie was doing redemption exercise with Angel Dust. Nifty was running everywhere to dust the place up, Vaggie was close to Charlie to help her , Alastor was in his chair as in the lobby could be heard a soft jazz song. Lucifer was in his apple tower. His room and workshop when all of the sudden a bright light illuminate his room and a crash sound outside the hotel making it to tremble a little.

When thwy all go outside to see what happened they see 2 angels fighting. One was an exterminator the other was strange. Her wings were a fuze of colors as the univers with stars, her black hair as the night was tied in loose braid. She was dressed in a royal blue dress that was covered in purple armor. She had a spear next to her but she was using her fists to fight that angel. She was speaking in a language that made then wonder what is she talking about. Even Lucifer haven't heard it before. After she threatened the angel she took their halo and broke it in her hands then get up and throw then away as they angel flow to the portal to heaven the one with wings of a galaxy was screaming at them something that was like swears and threats. After the portal close she sigh then took her own halo and look at it. Then in a fit of rage she broke hers to. She turn around to see demons in front of a building and took her spear and point it at them.

"Cine sunteți? De ce va uitați așa la mine?" (Who are you? Why are you guys looking at me that way) she speaks in that strange language again. Charlie come closer the the angel and ask her "Are you ok? You look hurt....your bleeding". The angel look at her smile as she understood what language to use to speak with them. "Hello. Yes I am good. But I want to ask you if you could show me the way to Charlie Morningstar? I heard that she can help me in a way to accept that I'm in hell. But first to tell you my name." She bows softly but with elegance. "My name is Y/n. I am the angel of galaxy. First to be created by the God and the last. Queen of dreams and hope and protector of balance".

Y/n pov:

'They are looking at me like I'm some kind of ghist or something. Hell. It is because of my wings?' She thought and hide her wings in her back. The girl with red circles on her cheeks and a big smile looks like an angel....is she the daughter of my little morningstar? "Hi my name is Charlie. Why don't you come in and let us help you patch up? I think you have a story to tell and maybe you will want to stay here" she said and approach y/n and she accepted Charlie hand. She made her spear disappear then walk into the hotel followed by the rest. Charlie sat her down on the couch as the rest sit around to listen.

"Ok so as I said I am y/n. The queen of dreams and hopes and protector of balance. I was the first and last angel of galaxy that God created. To protect humans by all kinds of threats from space like asteroids or black holes, to put stars on the night sky for them and to go to the dreams realm to fight with the nightmares who terorise humans. Being just me I dress differently as you all can see. I like white but my skin is already made of moon light and stardust. Dress differently speak differently and think differently. They thought that I am the problem. When I find out what they did to my little morningstar when I was gone I started to ask why and to find out, but they sended me on a mission again. I came back a week ago and when I find out finally when they did with Samael then here in hell killing innocent demons I started to question then to press them to stop. I told the whole heaven what they did and finally when you guys saw me I was fighting and destroyed the exorcism. I'm sorry it took so long to come here. Truly." She looks at all of then embarrassed then at Charlie and what she thinks it was her little star. Samael but now Lucifer.

Lucifer was startled to hear his other name then look at her puzzled. Charlie had tears in her eyes but then Angel Dust spooke "What do you mean by your little morningstar?" She smiled at then and blush softly as then sigh and open her palms. A soft light that sparks with a light so beautiful that made you feel warm and comfortable. "This is what humans called the star of morning. The first star to appear on the sky and the last to go. My little morningstar. This star is under Samael name because God wanted it to be so." She looks at Lucifer and smile as he was almost in tears. She put the star away and when the light disappeared she looks at all of then then wince and cover her right side of her stomach. Gold blood was gushing out and she started to breath heavily. "C...can someone carry me to a room? Preferably at the top of this building and to stich me up? Thanks" after those words she fainted.

Third person pov:

Y/n fainted as soon as she finished talking and Lucifer caught her body in time before falling. He looks at her puzzled and feeling strange after hearing her story. He knew of her name. Never seen her before tough. He looks at Charlie and she got up and started to walk upstairs where she thinks is the best room for her new guest. Lucifer placed y/n on the bed and snap his fingers to make some pijama pants and shirt appear. She give then to Charlie and told her to call Vaggie and change her clothes and dress her wounds as he leaves the women's alone.

(Not my art)

[yandere-fics]

♡ Veronia Finds Out Her Mate Is Her Great Great Great Niece ♡

Veronia remembered at one point she had had a sister, a half sister, her mother had birthed her on her own with no other parent but later on she had found her mate and had a second child with them, this child being half human half dragon, left to live in a human village and Veronia hadn't heard of her or her family and since her parents had both died, her mother slain and her other mother died of grief, there was no need for Veronia to keep in touch.

You had always known the dragon in the forest was your distant aunt, the story had been passed down for generations, though there were some parts that you believed much less than others, namely the part where they all met a "soulmate" and were just insanely drawn to them and could never look at anyone else. That kind of thing wasn't out there for you, you'd only had one thing you'd thought about that way, the dragon in the forest. She must have been so cool, you'd always longed to meet her and so getting sick of your family telling you how you just needed to be patient, you'd meet your soulmate soon, you packed up and headed out.

"Great Dragon! I'm your niece! It's nice to meet you!" She really was so much cooler and prettier than you expected and for a moment you'd started to think those silly soulmate claims were true but this was your aunt, of course it wasn't possible for her to be your soulmate. Her world came crashing down when you said those words, of course she had recognized you were part dragon, she just never thought you were part dragon from her younger sister.

"Oh... well come into my cave dearest m- niece. What brings you here?" Now that you were here there was no chance in hell she was allowing you to go home, she just had to find a way to break all the soulmate stuff to you and it wouldn't be long before she was plowing your dearest nie-mate? She was so confused on what to even call you, the point was she planned on laying you down on her best furs very soon, you were part dragon surely you'd understand the natural pull towards the other. If not she maybe need to imprison you in her forest for the time being until you understood.

[bullet-prooflove]

Memories: Captain Jean Treville x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @@princesschyanne @caffeinatedwoman @kmc1989 @lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat @roschele @sassyscottishchick @aiko24k @scorpio-1357 @burningpeachpuppy @swanfan17 @@dragon85faby @angelnyx

When Athos goes missing it is you that finds your old friend, he's strung up by his wrists about to be whipped by a baron’s son. It triggers something in you, seeing him like that, at the mercy of nobility who want to get their grubby hands on his land. That was you a long time ago, after your father died, when you were nothing but a girl.

Only there was no one to rescue you, to cut the rope that bound your wrists, to prevent a marriage that was forced at gun point as blood ran down your back. When you fight for Pinon alongside Jean and his Musketeers you fight for yourself, for the girl who couldn’t.

“It brings back memories doesn’t it?” Jean murmurs as he sits down alongside of you by the hearth at the inn. You’re staring into the flames, your attention focused entirely on the logs that crackle and burn.

You’ve been quiet since they’ve arrived, reserved. There’s a tone in your voice, a distance. It’s clear there’s been a dispute between yourself and Athos, you think he has a duty to his people and he wants nothing to do with the damn place. He doesn’t understand that his choice is one that everyone else has to live with, he can’t see beyond his own pain.

“Too many to count.” You say despondently, before your gaze shifts to the innkeeper’s daughter.

“She was lucky you were here.” He says quietly as he leans in close, the back of his hand brushing over yours. It’s a tentative display of affection. Sometimes you don’t like to be touched when you go back to that place, you withdraw from him as if he’s one of the men that hurt you all those years ago. “That you were able to get her out.”

Breaking in the filly is what they called the horror of what they were going to do to her, rape is what you call it.

“I could never resign someone else to that fate.” You tell him, your attention turning back to the fire.

When he takes you to bed that night, you sleep curled up against him like a child, his fingers trailing soothingly through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings. Darkness like this brings dreams, dreams of a man who shamed you, ruined you, who fed you to the wolves so that he could own your estate.

You were nothing to Charles DuMire but a tool to be used, a plaything for men who always held more power than you. You were exchanged for favours, for money, for prestige.

“I was their whore.” You had said, when you’d told him your story.

“No.” He’d whispered fiercely, his eyes glittering with rage as his palms came to rest upon the surface of his desk. “You were abused.”

He doesn’t know how you kept your wits during that time, trauma like that would drive anyone to madness. You were nothing but an object to those men, and men, they speak freely in front of things that they own.

When you learn of their plot to assassinate the King, you decide to act. You gather evidence, letters, a ledger of the money exchanges and the ring that each one of the men wear, a symbol of their allegiance to one another, one that can only be worn in the shadows. You take them to Paris with you during one of husband’s excursions to court.

Your father had often spoke of Jean Treville, the young soldier he had trained to become a Musketeer. He spoke of the battles they fought in, his heroism, his honour.

“He is the Captain now.” He had said on his deathbed. “If there is trouble, he is a man you can trust.”

When you first turn up at the garrison, Jean thinks you are the most beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on. It’s only when he helps you down from your horse that he sees the darkness in your eyes, the way you clench your jaw at his touch. He’s careful after that, he doesn’t want to cause you any further distress.

When he reviews your evidence there is no doubt in his mind you’ve uncovered a conspiracy, one that’s already in motion. He moves into action, making preparations and you stand beside him, showing him the access points on the map, detailing the plans your husband has made. You have a mind for battle, for tactics and subterfuge. He thinks you would have been a general if you had been born a son.

“You are your father’s daughter.” He had told you once the trap was set, the edges of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “He would have proud of your strength, your ingenuity.”

“He would be ashamed of what I’ve become.” You say as you pull on your cloak, drawing it up around your shoulders.

“No.” Jean had told you. “He’d be ashamed of the circumstances he left you in, that he trusted his neighbour to care for you the same way he did. None of this is your fault.”

You meet his gaze and you can see the sincerity of his words, the anger that fuels them. None of this should have happened to you, you should be living a happy life, married to a man who loves you, who wants to give you children.

“You can’t go back to him.” He asserts as you tie the fastening of your cloak just underneath your chin.

“If I don’t, he’ll know there is something amiss.” You say before gesturing at the plans upon his desk. “And all of this will be for nothing.”

It kills him to send you back into the viper’s nest, to know that you’ll be sleeping next to a man who gives you to his friends as if you were a trinket. When he helps you onto your horse, he lingers for a moment, his palm lightly caressing the animal’s nose.

“It’ll be over soon.” You say with an air of finality as you pick up the reins. “I’ll take great joy in watching him hang.”

And you do. The next time Jean sees you is inside the prison courtyard as you both watch the men who conspired against the crown hang for their crimes. You smile as your husband takes his final breathes, his body quaking and his legs kicking. Anyone else would look away but you keep your eyes fixed on his the entire time.  

“There were others?” Jean asks quietly as he escorts you from the prison.

He’s surprised when your hand comes to rest on his arm. You tilt your head towards him and he can see that a burden has been released. His palm covers yours in a show of solidarity as you walk together side by side.

“Yes there are others.” You say, slowing your step as you reach into the pocket hidden within your skirts and withdraw a piece of parchment. “Here are their names, if you are patient I will get you your evidence. I have no doubt that I’ll be fair game now that Charles is dead.”

“I would never ask that of you…” You cut him off by shushing him and he sighs as the two of you come to a standstill.

You are a wilful woman, spirited despite the circumstances. Your husband’s death has given you a taste for vengeance and he knows you will not stop until you see every single one of those men dead.

“You wouldn’t would you?” You say softly, squeezing his fingers. “You would never ask anything of me.”

“No.” He says, his lips pursing together into a fond smile. “No I would not.”

It takes two years but you send every single one of those men to the gallows. Their reputations in tatters, their lands claimed by the crown, you leave them with nothing. During every death you stand at the front your eyes locked on theirs because you want them to know it was you, that you are the harbinger of their demise.

It’s a few nights after the last one is hanged that you enter his chambers. He’s sitting on the bed, having just removed his boots and jacket when you stand before him and begin to undress. Your skirts go first and then the bodice, the rest of it follows until your clad in simple white garment that’s almost translucent. He can see the outline of your dark nipples, that special place between your legs and his mouth goes dry. He wants you, he always has but he’s not like those other men, he won’t rut at you like an animal.

You mistake his resolve for rejection. He knows your story, of the men you’ve been with. It makes sense that a man of honour would want a woman of virtue, not someone ruined.

“I understand.” You say quietly, your cheeks colouring as you reach for your clothing.

“Terese.” He says softly as he pats the space alongside him on the bed. “Please sit with me.”

You take up residence beside him and the scent of orange blossoms floods his senses. He prays to God for strength because having you this close, feeling the heat of your body, seeing it through that thin sliver of material it’s enough to drive a man to madness. His thumb chases along the line of your jaw, tipping your chin up so that your eyes are fixed in his.

“Have you ever given yourself freely?” He asks you, his nose trailing along yours until your lips are barely apart. “Have you ever known love?”

“No.”  You whisper. “I have never experienced the pleasure.”

“You will with me,” He murmurs, as his lips brush over yours. “If that is what you wish.”

It's you that kisses him, that strips away his shirt, that unfastens his breeches. It is the first time you’ve had a choice in your partner, in your intimacy and you choose him. He takes his time worshipping you, he maps out the contours of your body with calloused hands and an eager mouth.

“You deserve the world.” He whispers against your thigh as he kisses a heated trail to nirvana. “You deserve love, adoration, ecstasy…”

And he gives it to you.

Jean, he gives you everything.

You’ve never known rapture, not like this. His hands anchor you in the moment, his palms caressing you as you climax against his mouth. He moans into your cunt at the taste of your sweet nectar before he devours you all over again. When his name rolls off your lips a second time, he kisses a teasing path up along your body, his lips brushing over your sensitive skin. You look beautiful underneath him, your skin flushed and eyes bright.

He stays your hand when you reach for him, bringing your fingertips to his lips instead, kissing them.

“Not tonight my love.” He whispers. “Tonight is about your pleasure, not mine.”

He’s the first man you give yourself freely and the last.

In the small principality of Pinon, he lies in bed with you, his spy, his lover and his wife and he knows you won’t just be fighting for Athos’s people, you’re fighting for your own, for the innocents that were slaughtered when your first husband took over your lands, the ones that tried to save you, the ones that couldn’t.

This is the reason that Pinon is so important to you.

This is the place you make your stand and this time he makes it with you.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[orcelito]

the weird thing about when someone dies is that they're never truly dead in my head. when i think about my grandpa, my grandma, my uncle, i dont think of them as dead. i think of them as just... gone for a while. some longer than others. i think about my cat sammy and my cat cassy and i feel like i could still look over and see them there beside me. i can see the way sammy would always cuddle right up to me and lay his head on my shoulder. i can see the way cassy would swivel his head at me when he wanted pets.

they're all dead. they're all gone. but i feel like i could see them again, just like old times. all i need to do is give them a call.