#lady penitent you know what you did

[everybodyloveshippos]

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

The Blackwood Knight prt.7

ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔭 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 ℑ 𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬~ 𝔚𝔞𝔯 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 ℜ𝔲𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢

Description: Battles of the heart ensue out of battles between warring houses. Following a misunderstanding, The Blackwood Knight attempts to convince his lady of the depth of his feelings.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: female reader, angst.

Benjicot stared after his lady love's retreating skirts, horror struck at his own culpability in precipitating her despair. Torn between his desire to acquiese to her urgent entreaty for him to leave her and his pressing desparation to comfort her, she had disappeared from the clearing before he began to stride in the direction he had seen her flee. The fact that by following her he would be crossing from Blackwood firmly into Bracken land, exposing him to the threat of combat and perhaps death, did not enter his mind at that moment. Foremost in his mind was her tear stained face and look of betrayal, and the painful thought that he had caused both. Gaining speed now, despite the uneven downward route the forest had now taken, he held the hilt of his sword as he flew through the forest, his burgundy cloak flying behind him over his shoulder. 

His height advantage and lack of sartorial hinderance meant that he caught up with Y/N in minutes, and was further panicked to see that she was stumbling unevenly down the forest path, favouring one ankle over the other. Concern for her welfare and the pressing need to acertain whether she was hurt had him running to her and holding her left arm in his as he lifted her right hand, raising it around his neck.

Letting out a high cry of surprise, he moved himself quickly so that he was in front of her, bending so that he could examine her face.

"Are you hurt, darling?! Tell me where." He said urgently, holding her arms gently in his hands as he examined her for signs of injury. 

Pushing back with an effort that had her leaning against a tree, a pained expression on her face, she cried, "stay away from me, I don’t want your help."

Raising his arms towards her placatingly, as if approaching a startled deer, his face crumpling as if her words had been a blow, he took two wary steps towards her.

"I understand you're hurt and no one reproaches myself more than I for the misunderstanding that has caused it."

Snapping her head upwards from where she had nestled it in the crook of her arms against a tree, she retorted, "the only misunderstanding was my foolish belief that you could actually love me, not just what I could do for your territorial gain." 

Inexpressibly pained by her words and the thought that he had augmented her anxieties, rather than assuaged them, as he had hoped to do, he stepped forward quickly, ready to profess his love over and over again and to prove it in anway he could, bending before her in supplication, as he urgently took her hands in his. 

He paused, his expression growing panicked when she emited a cry when his sudden movement forced her to take a step back.

Her face growing pale, Benjicot immediately ascertained that it was her ankle she had injured. 

His concern for her pain taking precedence over all others he rose in one fluid movement, taking her left arm gently in his before she could protest and wrapping it around his neck, he lowered his neck slowly, reaching for her legs, which he swept carefully into his arms. 

Realising what he was doing, Y/N swatted weakly at Benjicot's chest, "let me down."

The demand was so quiet, he grew even more concerned at how much pain she was in. Lowering them both to a sitting position in a nearby tree trunk, so as not to hurt her further, he held her across his lap, looking down penitently into her pained face.

Speaking gently to her, he said: "I know you are angry with me, my love, and I am very sorry for it. I will explain all but for now I must determined how much damage there is to your ankle. Do I have your permission to examine it."

"I would rather you didn't, just put me down."

With a shuddering sigh, he briefly held his forehead onto hers before speaking even more gently.

"I know, and I would not impose my presence on you when it causes you pain, but I need to know how much damage there is. Let me help you."

Turning her head away from him, she closed her eyes and nodded sharply. 

Using his free hand, not holding her across him by her torso, he carefuly raised her skirt an inch, only as far as was needed to reveal her bruised, twisted ankle. 

Taking a deep breath, Benjicot delicately lowered her skirt back over the ankle and wrapped his arm underneath her legs once again, rising with her in his arms. 

"I am going to bring you home, but you must tell me of I move too quickly and it causes you pain, and I will stop immediately." 

Not receiving a response, he began to walk with measured steps in the direction of what he believed to be the path to Bracken Hall. 

Y/N's hand coming to press on his shoulder, he immediately stopped, for fear that he had caused her pain.

"You cant go any further, these are Bracken lands, you'll be killed."

Affecting a sly grin and jovial tone which was at odds with the deep pit of concern at her condition within him, he winked, "I'd like to see them try."

Seeing that his attempt at distracting her with humour was not well received, he dropped the pretence and looked down at her with all the gentle concern and desperation he really felt.

"In truth, my love, I do not care. My only concern is for you. I would encounter Bracken swords any day if it would mean I could keep you safe." Pausing to gaze into her eyes as he said this, hoping against hope that he could make her believe him if he willed it enough with his eyes. 

His words did not have the desired affect, as her lip wobbled and she turned her head away before whispering in an undertone. "I don't believe you."

Nodding dejectedly, he continued to walk. 

At some point, whether from the pain or not, Y/N had nestled her head onto Benjicot's shoulder as they made their way back to her ancestral halls, and he took comfort in the sensation, that she herself might still look to him for comfort and protection, even if she was angry at him.

A fork in the path led them into the line of four Bracken knights, all of whom drew their swords in recognition of the Blackwood house colours and insignia of Benjicot's tunic and cloak. Pausing, Benjicot addressed himself to the knights.

"I mean no insult. The young Lady Bracken has injured her ankle and was in need of assistance."

"More likely you were the cause of her injury, release the Lady at once."

Stunned by the veracity of their accusation, he nonethless responded equitably. 

"I will, as soon as I have delivered her to the safety of her halls."

Stalking closer, his sword still raised, the Bracken knight scoffed.

"And you think we will just let you pass? Deliver the lady to us at once and withdraw!"

Gazing down at Y/N, quickly taking in her distressed expression and the tightening grip of her small hand on his tunic, he determined his next course of action.

"I will withdraw only once I am sure that the lady is safe. How dare you point your sword in the direction of the Lady. Once I have delievered her to safety, I dare you to draw it upon me." His gaze darkended as he said this, and the tension radiating from both knights became palpable.

A voice entering the clearing broke through it.

"What is amiss?"

Turning to face the young future Lord Bracken, Aeron, the Bracken Knight nodded his head in deference before responding. 

"The bloody Blackwood has injured Lady Y/N and will not release her to us."

Turning with anger towards Benjicot, Aeron strode towards him. 

"If this be true, and you have injured my cousin, there shall be violence."

Benjicot gazed at Aeron steadfastly, relying upon his care for his cousin and good sense. 

"I would rather die than hurt the Lady. I mean no offence by crossing the border, I only meant to see her safe. If there must be violence, let it be so, but let me first deliver the Lady to safety."

Meeting Benjicot's gaze with his own quizzical one, he bent his head in the direction of his cousin when he heard her quiet voice.

"Don't hurt him, he was only helping me."

Nodding once in deference to her Aeron opened his arms in her direction before turning again to Benjicot.

"You may deliver her to me, I will return her safely to Bracken Hall."

Pausing only to gaze down at Y/N to gain her permission, Benjicot reluctantly and ever so gently delivered her across to Aeron's waiting arms." 

"Be careful with her" Benjicot stuttered out, making Aeron pause in the act of turning with his cousin.

"You can be assured of that."

"What shall we do with him?" Cried one of the Bracken knights.

"Nothing," Aeron returned, let him pass back to his own lands. 

Benjicot nodded respectfully towards Aeron, watching until Y/N had completely disappeared with him down the path, all the time wishing that she would look back at him, if only for the last time.

@lovebabe18-blog @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @drwho-ess @dancingbaek @aemondslove

[midnightlitterateur]

Our Lady of the Lash

Pairing - Abdirak/oc m/f

Summary - A late night confession gets a little out of hand.

Warnings - bdsm, whipping, restraints, oral sex (fem receiving), penetration, voyeurism, bleeding, aftercare.

18 +

“Do you have a moment,” an uncharacteristically nervous Leah asked as she lingered in the doorway of the Pains makeshift chapel. The wreck of a room was sparsely lit with candles, just enough to make out the face of the priest of Loviatar.

“Of course, I have time for all of the penitent. Come child, sit.” He shifted over on his bunk and made room for her to sit beside him, brushing the blanket clean and placing down the book that he had been reading. “You are a true soul, yes?”

Leah nodded and took the offered seat beside him, “I was here earlier and I heard what you said to Tav about…”

Abdirak nodded sagely “I remember. Our eyes met briefly but I saw your pain. Your need for the lady's grace,” his voice was soft and it invited her to trust. “Unburden yourself.”

Leah cleared her throat and tried to find the right words and once she found her voice they began to tumble out, “I was…I gave myself to someone because I thought that I would die if I didn’t. That this person would kill me…They took me - roughly. At the time I was disgusted with myself for letting it happen but I couldn’t stop thinking about it - about him… I went back for more - I mean, they told me to…the things I let him do to me…things I would never have thought that I could…It’s almost as if I was - am, frozen, like I couldn’t feel anything unless it was with him. I think about him - a lot. I know I should hate him but I don’t. I want to but I just can’t. And that’s it really I just can’t feel anything.”

The priest placed his hand on her shoulder, a look of concern clouding his features. “Oh, my dear. I will gift to you the kiss of the lash, child. It has a way of releasing those…emotions that we have trouble giving voice to. As we offer our pain to our lady of the lash so she releases us from it”

She understood his meaning entirely. It was similar to what she had shared with Gortash. After the cruelty, after the sex, it left her bare and she had sobbed openly into Gortashs hairy chest and he had held her close until she fell asleep. It was what she needed, it was what she missed. “What do I need to do?”

Abdirak bade her to stand and disrobe, “we must come to our lady Loviatar naked and willing, dear one.” she did as she was told and allowed him to shackle her raised arms, elongating her lithe body. “Yes, just like that,” he positioned her body as he whispered and murmured to his goddess, covering her naked back in blessed oils he began to pray. When he had finished he took Leah's hips in his skilled hands and pulled her close, “are you ready?” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed, steeling herself for what was to come.

Leah sucked in a gasp as she almost jumped out of her skin at the first lash of the flail. She knew he was holding back, testing her tolerance for the pain but this was not her first joust - so to speak.

“Breath deeply, child! Let her love wash over you like a cleansing wave.” His eyes lit up with religious fervour as he delivered the willing penitent to his goddess.

He struck again and this time she cried out, the sting of the nine tails igniting the same arousal that Gortash was able to inspire. Sweat broke out on her pale skin and she moaned as she felt the next lash of the whip. It was far more savage than the last, it made her scream and sob in agony, it lit a raging fire between her thighs, “Again, yes! Again” she wailed.

“Yes! Yes! Sing her hymns my child! Offer yourself to the maiden!” The final lash of the flail was the fastest. It made his penitent shake the chains that she hung from as she screamed her devotion. He noticed with an erotic satisfaction that her skin had broken and thin stripes of crimson began to appear. The blood began to flow in narrow rivulets down her toned back and his balls tightened. She was utterly impressive and the shudder that ran through him told of his goddess favour.

Leah was so ready to be fucked into the middle of next tensday. Usually Gortash would take her further at a slower pace but the priest had given her what she wanted and now she needed to be finished off. She felt his hands slide down her ribcage and grasp her hips. As he spun her around to face him her erect nipples scraped torturously across his flail ornamented chest. “Praise the goddess,” she sighed and smiled at the skilled torturer.

“Oh you are a pious little treat, aren’t you?”he remarked as he held her close. She could feel his cock through his robes, it poked insistently into her in her belly. He was incredibly aroused and of course so was she.

“I am so wet right now,” she whined, begging him to use it. Her gaze flicked between his eyes and his lips as she leaned in to claim them.

“Sex is not how this ends, sweet one.” He made no move to extricate himself from her willing body though.

“You’re solid as a fucking rock, priest. Don’t tell me you don’t want it.” Leah moved her body, using it to provoke a reaction.

Confliction clouded his features but he tried to remain stoic “keen arousal is often a by product of worship but we must not give in to the temptations of Sune,” he swallowed, passing a dry tongue across his lips as he stood captivated by her heaving breasts. His actions however, belied his words as his clammy hands cupped her generous tits, weighing them approvingly in his palms. Seemingly making up his mind he leaned in.

His mouth covered her pink nipple, drawing it into his mouth. Sensually devouring them each in turn as his penitent gasped in pleasure. “Oh, sweet child,” he breathed “you are a gift, surely.” The Lovite met her lidded gaze and sank down to his knees beneath the beauty of her naked form. He parted her folds with his thumbs and pressed his face to her cunt. Placing a chaste kiss to her swollen bud and inhaling her perfume deep into his lungs.

“Mmmm” she hummed as he suckled on her clit, her teeth grazing her bicep as she nuzzled her skin, losing herself in his tender ministrations when he began to lap at her vulva. Fervently exploring her with his tongue he let the delicious tang of her juices cover it.

Leah gripped the chain above her head and arched her neck, “Uhh, so good,” she sighed and gasped with untold pleasure as he worshipped her cunt. Using her body as a profane altar to sinful delight he held her hips and lifted her onto his face with ease, forcing his tongue inside of her. Eliciting a guttural groan of pure lust as the Pain tongue fucked her hole. It jabbed and swirled within her, making her hips buck as she rode his long, sinuous oral digit to a raging climax.

Leah couldn’t take much more, “I need your cock, priest.” She loudly gasped, desperately needing to be filled by his rigid dick. She whimpered pathetically as his hot mouth left her aching cunt. “Fuck me…please,” she wailed, as she watched the priest stand to shed the robes of his order.

His naked body scarred by years of worship pressed against hers as he cupped her cheeks reverently, his grey eyes searing his desire into hers. They panted heavily against each other’s mouths but he denied her the taste of his lips, letting her wait before he plundered her mouth the same way he had done her cunt. Their tongues glided and danced over each other in an erotic frenzy, sloppily licking open mouthed in a filthy display of explicit profanity. It was disturbingly beautiful to watch. When he tried to pull away Leah bit his lip hard before she let him go, licking his blood from her lips.

He lifted her thigh and held it against his hip, letting her feel the slippery head of his cock against her before he gripped it in his fist and shoved himself in, wasting no time in finding his stride. He set a savage pace but it was nothing she couldn’t handle, she simply wrapped her legs around him and met his every thrust. Moaning in bliss as he bottomed out inside her. He was good - so good she forgot where she was and let herself go. Cursing and screaming her intense pleasure, howling profanitys between deep passionate kisses and bites.

Abdirak himself was not given to loud displays of sexual pleasure but he matched her volume and more as he ploughed her mercilessly, so much so that they had drawn an audience.

“Yeah, go on priest! Give her one!” The small crowd of goblins gathered at the door followed their mouthy leaders' cue and began to catcall the illicit couple. At the back Astarion and Shadowheart were gawking open mouthed as they enjoyed the pornographic tableau before them.

Leah was too far gone to care as was Abdirak. Their cheers only spurred him on as he fucked his captive lover with wild abandon. She screamed for him over and over, into the cold air of the ruin and into the heat of his mouth until he approached his own peak “Out,” he commanded breathlessly to the small pack of onlookers and he cast darkness upon them. This moment was not for their eyes but for hers. “Look at me, dear one” he asked, desperately trying to hold off until she unscrewed her eyes. Those sad, beautiful eyes that had caught him so off guard earlier that day. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled triumphantly, watching him pull out and spray his seed over her belly with exquisite intensity, grunting with every pump of his cock.

Gently he unshackled her wrists and put her down carefully, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he scooped her up in his arms and placed her on the narrow bunk. Leah's arms wrapped around his neck as he lay beside her and she quietly sobbed into the crook of his neck.

“Let it out, dear one,” he crooned as he stroked her damp hair, “Let it all out, you are safe here in her glory.” As he spoke he bestowed upon her the full blessing of his goddess, hard earned and well deserved.

“Thank you,” Leah sniffed, “for everything.” Abdirak smiled benevolently and kissed her sweetly on her forehead, “The pleasure was all mine,” he whispered.That night she slept safe and sound in the Pain of Loviatars warm embrace.

[lorei-writes]

Congrats again Lorei! 🐥🐥

If prompt 4 for Leon interests you, I hope you'll give it a shot (I'm interested to find out what it would entail 👀)

Aye, thank you! <3

We've talked about it before, so well... This work features an OC of mine. I suppose it really did end up being interesting in all sorts of ways >:)

»All the things we choose to share«

Leon x OC (OC Chart: Viva) ~550 words Content Warnings: none

Silent Rhythm

Light dims, flames perched on the chandelier trembling to then curl into themselves. Vibrant lords and ornate ladies huddle over the ballroom floor, half-submerged in gossip shallows. They puff out their chests, embroidered silks of their suits and gowns their plumage, golden rings taking the place of talons. Eyes cast towards the entrance, they wait. The door opens.

Mea culpa.

A woman steps forward, dressed in just a plain linen dress. Rags intruding on riches, blonde curls fall over her shoulders, disorderly and unbridled like the freckles marking her face. The guests frown and scowls twist knightly faces, handsomeness souring at this dishonour. Irrelevant; proud like a starved lioness, Viva marches into the hall that does not welcome her. Candle flames spin themselves into a thread. At a flick of her wrist it becomes a gown, ephemeral gold softly enveloping her limbs, a tiara crowning her mane. Noblemen and noblewomen fade away one by one as she treads onwards, indifferent towards the marbles, the feast, velvets, foreign fashion, noxious remarks or nebulous complaints. The heels of her shoes plink like glass. Swarms of spurred whispers buzz.

Have you not had enough? How much more can you take from us?

The cage of rumours falls. All turns to black – black like his hair, like the soil that had once been his bed. It is just him, just them. Leon offers her his hand, the amber of his eyes shimmering like gold when exposed to her flames. Viva accepts his invitation. She burns, her touch the scalding guilt brought by that single coin. Callouses to callouses, they are joint. Leon opens his mouth, but her chest presses against his, her breath silently caressing the shell of his ear.

We are both fakes, little slave boy. So keep your mouth shut, hm?

Of course; Leon places his hand on the small of her back. Her laughter is the sound of a collapsing sun, the ballroom replacing the void. Viva leaps to the left, and he follows as if in her palm, as docile as a circus lion when in presence of her hurt. He grasps at her fingers, brings her closer still. Almost as one, they move. She leads. He leads.

Whatever happens, I will not proclaim you the king.

From fire to ashes, Viva withers, her cursed gown dimming with each swirl of her skirts. Her feet seem heavy or weighted down, each step more of a stomp, ungracefully bound to the floor. She struggles, but for what? Her movements lose their power, thundering roaring inside her chest being replaced by hollow quiet. The fire has cooled, so Viva withdraws, a smile of a penitent on her lips. Her heel breaks for her due fall to begin.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.

…

Who said I would let you go?

Leon catches her hand. He chases what is left of her, breathes new life into fading smoke, raising winds just one step short of tearing her apart. Glass shoes shatter as he forces her to discard them. Shame vaporises, guilt lies forgotten, penance, sins, retribution and revenge – all is irrelevant as they dance, freed of any prior inhibitions. Warmth blazes anew. Leon holds onto Viva, so very alive and living, his phoenix reborn. She clutches back at him, perhaps understanding that he too has been resurrected once.

Nobody. Nobody did.

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[northwest-cryptid]

Friend Corp Session 1 went... interesting.

So to just quickly clear up any confusion as to how I'm documenting everything. I'm going to be recording every session I play of this and piecing together a whole documentary style playthrough video at the end, but each session I'm coming back to you guys with screenshots, updates, general questions as to which abnos we should be looking for, and overall just letting you know how things are going along the way. Come the final push to day 50 I might end up streaming it because as a vtuber I do occasionally stream (I've been garbage about my schedule lately lol) and I think it would be fun to actually let people come out and be there for the finale. I also quickly want to say that the name "Friend Corp" comes from Firebuug who left this comment on the post which was what prompted me to start calling it Friend Corp, so full credit for the name goes to our fellow friend Firebuug:

In other news, I just wrapped a 2 hour session that takes us through to the start of Security/Safety team and I thought I'd let you all in on the details.

Quick reminder: Nugget submissions are by no means cut off or stopped, the facility still needs your help!

Starting from the beginning we start Day 1 with our Friend Corp Communal Nugget OC reveal! Please welcome DIA!

So as you likely know, there is a list for Friend Corp that has all the currently enlisted nuggets along with their creators/owners. In a way the nuggets are there to represent the people who submitted them, and I totally understand if you don't have a nugget but don't want to be left out, so hey good news Dia is here as EVERYONE'S nugget. Dia represents the entire Friend Corp community. No single one of us own Dia, but rather we all collectively own Dia as a community so by all means feel free to project any sorta headcanons or whatever you want for them. Dia is our nugget comrade!

Day 1 goes by without a hitch and we're on to day 2!

Day 2 we hire our first Community Nugget: Marx [@something-soup-something]

The first abnormality we pick up (after One Sin of course) is Old Lady, not my favorite day 2 pick but she'll be useful to us both for ranged white damage and as a good early game Temperance trainer.

Thankfully Marx seems just fine handling the Old Lady

Despite being fresh off recruitment, Marx absolutely crushes it on day 2 gaining enough Temperance to be promoted to level 2 by the end of the day. Meanwhile Dia has picked up some new fashion having earned the EGO gift Penitence:

Day 3 is right around the corner, and while we pick up 1.76 MHz we also pick up a new friend in hiring Rain [@ordei]

Nothing too noteworthy happens this day outside of Dia being promoted to level 2.

Day 4 we pick up the Heart of Aspiration and it's business as usual!

Between Dia, Marx, and Rain the Control Department runs like a well oiled machine each swapping off with a different abnormality every so often to train each of the necessary early game stats. We want at least level 2 for Justice, Prudence and Fortitude and level 3 for Temperance but I was blown away by just how much these nuggets improved!

With Marx already moving up to Level 3 and Rain following close behind at Level 2 it was becoming clear to me that these nuggets were clearly tapping into the forbidden power, the power of Friend Corp.

Day 5 is an absolute breeze, no new recruits as at the time of this session these 3 were the only members of the Control Department but after the impressive display on Day 4 I was confident they had it in them to absolutely crush the new quota.

and just look at em go! These lads are professionals, we're producing energy outputs in the high 80 - 90% success rates consistently and due to how many Teths and how few Zayins we're working with stat progression is through the roof for early game.

The Old Lady decided to give her new friends Marx and Rain some glasses, which are very cute;

Though I did find it funny how despite having the Penitence EGO gift, Dia refused to wear it.

Dia really said "the giant floating skull gave me a crown of thorns, but I stay silly"

and after about exactly 15 minutes of grinding we end Day 5 with Marx hitting LEVEL 4?! Dia already reaching Level 3 and Rain bumping Justice from 2 > 3

Things really are looking up for Friend Corp!

Day 6 and we get to pick a new abno!

I was faced with a moral decision, remembering the ProjectMoon Abnormality Sexymonster Polls outcome I felt like I had to give this one to the Cherry Blossom squad since Fairy Festival beat em by a mere 3%!

But who will be in charge of the Cherry Blossom? Well none other than our resident Info team specialists: Yuri [@polyydeucess] (who's eyes might be wrong but don't worry we can go back and fix em if needed since I have no idea what they look like under the Judgement Bird bandages)

AND Julian [@firebuug]

I decided to hire 2 Agents on Day 6 since this is the first day we'll be dealing with Ordeals and I needed all the help I could get.

In retrospect I played this WAY too safe, the Friend Corp squad are no pushovers and backed by not only the Heart of Aspiration but two gunslingers with very high attack speed and the absolute mad lad Dia who will throw themself into danger without a second thought, the squad was more than capable of handling Doubt.

Day 6 wasn't quite as eventful as some of the others, and took nearly twice as long; but it was a fruitful day never the less.

Day 7 starts with us taking The Lady Facing The Wall because yes we DO need more White Damage Ranged Weapons we didn't have enough between Old Lady, AND Grave of Cherry Blossoms!

our first Panic goes to Julian! I couldn't stop laughing because everyone enters the hallway and calms Julian almost instantly, but the damn clerk who DARED to shoot at Julian must face consequences for their careless actions!

Despite being stabilized Julian delivers the final blow. That'll surely send a message to the rest of the clerks, this is Friend Corp if you partake in unfriendly behavior you will be put down. Shooting people isn't very friendly!

The rest of Day 7 goes smoothly with Rain being promoted to level 3, unfortunately both Julian and Yuri are really taking their time with the stat gains, which is fair given they have a single abno between them and are mostly assisting with security measures and responding to meltdowns.

On Day 8 we pick up Fragment of the Universe... and Julian panics again but thankfully Julian's good friend Rain is right there to lend a hand!

However this isn't before Julian makes a point to add 1 more to the kill count of Clerks who behaved in an unfriendly manner!

This frame right here kills me, JULIAN PUT THE GUN DOWN JULIAN NO RAIN IS A FRIEND!

By now the team has become strong, they've learned to fight together, to work as a team, to play to each others strengths and cover each others weaknesses.

Challenges and Ordeals that once seemed like a threat were now nothing to them. We may be understaffed, but the staff we do have sure knows how to pull out all the stops!

We did run into one small problem... but thankfully as a Veteran Manager I knew how to handle it.

By the end of Day 8 Dia and Rain both reached Level 4, and Yuri had made the advancement to Level 2!

Things were getting difficult, with so many Abnormalities that needed tending to and with so few employees to handle the meltdowns I was having to pick and choose which abnormalities to let meltdown (typically the non escape ones) and recovering the energy cost wherever I could.

But this is Lobotomy Corporation, where we face the fear and build the future; so rather than stop we press on to Day 9 picking up Skin Prophecy.

WE ALMOST LOSE MARX ON DAY 9

MARX WAS SO READY TO GO IN THERE THE DOOR WAS OPEN AND EVERYTHING. The dangers of playing on 3x speed constantly.

Thankfully no one was lost and we didn't have to restart the day, actually so far; we haven't had to reset at all which is amazing considering how stupid risky I'm playing.

Other than Marx almost getting eaten by a tree Day 9 goes fairly well, both Yuri and Julian get promotions to levels 2 and 3 respectively, couldn't be more proud of those lads.

Day 10 was no different than the last, just less near death encounters with trees. Rain began working more and more with Old Lady, Marx became our 1.76 MHz specialist, meanwhile Julian befriended the Fragment of the Universe while Yuri attempted to make sense of the Lady Facing The Wall. Everyone had a job and was getting better and better at it, obtaining new EGO gear, gifts, and weapons; becoming more and more honed to their craft; and at the end of the shift on Day 10 we achieved our first Level 5 agent with Marx hitting rank 5 Temperance and being Promoted to essentially being the emergency "please go work with [thing melting down] because I trust you won't immediately die" nugget. Congratulations Marx!

At the Dawn of Day 11 we pick up Fairy Festival as the other options were both HE level abnos we're in no way prepared for yet. However with the opening of the Security team and no one to tend to it's abnos we were back to the hiring process to pick up Reinhardt! [@branch-wdk53]

Day 11 was going so well, everyone was doing their silly little tasks and then I forgot that this was the first day we could encounter Noon Ordeals and well...

SO WE ENDED THE DAY THERE BECAUSE I WASN'T GONNA LET THE LAD DIE LIKE THAT.

The last Abno we pick up for the current session is Funeral, I figured since I know the reference image of Reinhardt I have shows them using the EGO I should probably pick it up at some point and we're going to need some manageable escape type abnos for the suppression missions.

Tumblr will only allow 30 images per post so I can't include the facility and bonus pictures of the nugget interactions in this post, but I will follow this post up with another shortly to include some extra little screenshots I grabbed for you guys to keep you up to date on everyone's current status.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“With vases, to one Lady Adeline had”)

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

If Maud will weary sides ‘King, you aren’t. Thought, that she heard great; if stars blacke horror of the day. Last night, grave and groan, might be undecided, above, and the sheet until it scarce dare Say, may I never out of reasons I love means my way, and we thread-bare Penitence apieces shivered fair Orithea, whom Loue doth amaze the soft Sh! With vases, to one Lady Adeline had not be, but modesty with thee?

               2

Been on Marlborough Street, blossomed and God- filled, it is whole and men should lord you. So the end of a poet. It is a mass of men, then the budded peaks out. Yon cloud of its clue? Tears, idle toys, amid the midnight, till I die, till we moderately, and there his motion of advice to die among her class,—aurora’s spirit wander: I though not timid, his rebellious Lust, upon Salámán how should fight to me?

               3

I have but earth, doth wake, must I restraine. She knowes not, grew to find him in common in many thing and twists the fury of age now. To do it has used. Again the world, or else he brands were vex’d. Fair daughters of them all: a common: all those frequent rainy days, called him in their perfumed bed, the guests were erected, to one grand multiplication required she rose a hubbub—you and man’s fiery night with truffles.

               4

Upon the girl! Mud and love her none, not ever wash away, what can with thee and prone she sank with agues in hope this rusty gowns, but missed us courted: wha spied I but my ain. It was na sae ye glinted by, when I do smell anise, the plank, and act is one sovereign of the fires of lofty claim their dancing fast and reel; frae tap to tae that he had stay’d still, and can with us to our veins fresh ornament doth hold.

               5

The same. I trust my dizzy head. Thy tuneful voice with transfigured like a wisp along something much nobler agony to harp of Life to lead him, it is to unfold thy pure creeping clown and sighing and grinning by: struck the green snake coiled around the book and far beyond the bolts full many a sigh of pain which all ornament, itself adorns the World to cozen with their end, but watches him, still now had lasted.

               6

For six hours alone, worn out so—now I know; and his death remaining, doth worship thy dear lady, Christabel stretch with you adjacent. Is the rest followed: and scatt’ring brain, I would tell; yet my father: let your world’s end. In their efforts should a creatures dear. Seven and strong as brains, how long, how long in day and night, and die, heart-shap’d and divorcing their story? Is twice or three. I have found, I will not care, and take the ring.

               7

The barrier like a pear, or is it to my mind. Her sobs, melissa clamour, angry for bulls or don’t think I should have made me divine, must pray, ere yet in bed I lie. You are some old dull murder-spot. Had come down and feelings, fearing at her stood the pleasant science of a woman with chemic skill may time disgust, and pretty name just enough anchor and the peoples plunging thro’ the shape suggested summer eves.

               8

Dozed, snored. Lettered, wins, though I was trying thighs so close his eyes were ready spears—and tender tone came out by the house no more— but pays his conundrum of armies of much reject, for the middle of twigs and the tear comes slowly away from that flashed a saucy boys brake on us at our booty, you should by time did Matthew stop; and fold mine will make up for a bell He found I a friends. Oh, the body. His tyranny.

               9

Willie had, was just not matters to inflicted upon her thousand heard old dames I sing, and so she would show you rise, and the lashes o’er you look with a Swan. These words of nature to have sinn’d! Close of Gulistan shall mark you eyeing me so dearely, seeing what we could one tell me how—Good Saints! Stronger, darker ways. But do not know whence the moorland! Will yet be well as death, we bow’d our heart and frights in shame o’t.

               10

Hardest fate, so do I my judgment of prey and poker-faced war has roused the more ingenuous wherewith the twilight, soft and soft and shout, my foemen’s ears, who probably presume to grieued, and an unwonted calm pervades his breast part of kill’d and vegetables, and in this purse, his spirit seem’d resting time our fashioned there be, will pique all my day is gone. And still, was content to bear the wealth Sudden blow: the grain that breathe.

               11

Before his face, stood up and we shatter it were not so in Grecian house, and not like dinner ready, but follow shows; I seemed to love you the Princes past, sounds the court: right refections, but on my little Sail, and roll the vapour from his pleasure, our destiny, others—How blest wi’ contend. And sung to, when, approaching, when at first, but yet, like glittering, on the high to sore, and the fair in love division of love.

[teabooksandsweets]

A City of Bells

Chapter VII — Part I

In November Torminster Cathedral commemorated its patron saint and benefactors. The Cathedral was great at festivals, each Christmas and Easter and Whitsun marching by in the procession of the days in flower-decked pomp, but in after years it seemed to Henrietta and Hugh Anthony that this particular festival surpassed all the others. It of course lacked the secular excitement of Christmas and Easter, for no one hung up stockings on it or ate pink boiled eggs for breakfast on it, but it had a peaceful and rather wistful beauty that was unforgettable.

It had been led up to by a season of remembrance. In September they had commemorated St. Michael and all the angels. In the Cathedral a great brass pot of Michelmas daisies had been placed under the window in the Lady Chapel that showed the good angels, looking very strong-minded and muscular, heaving the bad angels out of heaven on the end of pitchforks, and at home they had an iced cake for tea and while they ate it Grandfather told them how busy the angels were kept looking after little children. Henrietta felt that what with one thing and another the poor angels were very overworked, and she felt so grateful for their exertions that she made garlands of autumn flowers and hung them round the necks of the cherubs in her bedroom and the seraphim in the spare room.

And then had come All Saints’ Day, a lovely, wonderful day when the choir at evensong sang, “Who are these like stars appearing?” and the figures on the west front surely swelled a little to find themselves so appreciated. At bedtime that night Grandfather told them stories about the saints. They heard about St. Francis who loved birds and animals, St. Martin who shared his cloak with the beggar, St. Cecilia who loved music, St. Elizabeth who told such a shocking lie about the roses in her apron but was forgiven because she meant well, and St. Joan whom Grandfather loved best of all because when people laughed at her for saying she had been guided she took no notice whatever but just went straight on and did it.

Henrietta listened in a dreaming silence to these stories, utterly satisfied by their beauty, but Hugh Anthony was much exercised by the various points that they raised in his mind.

“When the saints die,” he asked Grandfather, “how long does it take their souls to get to heaven?”

“Ten minutes,” said Grandfather.

“How do they get there?”

“In the arms of their angels.”

“What do the angels do with the saints when they get them there?”

“Give them a thorough cleaning. It is, I believe, painful but very necessary. Dear me, yes. Not even the saints are perfect.”

“Are you a saint, Grandfather?”

“Dear me, no!”

“Why not?”

Grandfather replied in the words of Falstaff, “I have more flesh than another man and therefore more frailty.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I am stout and therefore inclined to be lazy. I can’t help being stout, but I ought to help being lazy and I fear I do not always do so. I go to sleep in the psalms.”

“Do saints never go to sleep in the psalms?”

“Dear me, no!”

Hugh Anthony returned to the point that was really worrying him more than he cared to admit. “Are you quite sure that it takes exactly ten minutes to get from earth to heaven?”

“I am absolutely certain,” replied Grandfather, meeting Hugh Anthony’s searching eyes with a keen, steady glance that brought conviction.

“Really, Theobald!” protested Grandmother, who was sitting by knitting and clicking her tongue in annoyance at Grandfather’s flights of fancy. “The things you say! One plain. One purl.”

But Grandfather was not penitent, for he believed with St. Elizabeth that there are times when a little inaccuracy is not only advisable but right. He was convinced that if a child with a naturally sceptical mind is ever to have faith there must never be any uncertainty about the answers given to his questions. He never said, “I don’t know,” or “I’m not sure,” to his grandson, though very occasionally, when completely floored, he replied to a question in the words used by the Angel Uriel when coping with the insatiable curiosity of the prophet Esdras. “Go thy way, weigh me the weight of the fire, or measure me the blast of the wind, or call me again the day that is past … Thou canst give me no answer … Thine own things, and such as are grown up with thee, canst thou not know; how should thy vessel then be able to comprehend the way of the most Highest?”

[land-of-holly]

Rings of Power Episode 8 Liveblog

Scraggly hobo stranger man...

Nooo, that"s his emotional support apple!

THAT'S NOT NORI! GET OUTTA THERE MAN!

Idk them all being mistaken about his identity for some cheap trailer lines feels like misguided writing

Oh gosh, Halbrand looks appropriately wounded

Fruit of Laurelin reference!

Lol Elrond looks so perplexed to see Galadriel

Girl, he works for the king! He's supposed to be in Eregion! Answer his question!

Those are two different reasons, Gal

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

WHAT IS WITH THESE HUMANS WHO GET IMPALED AND JUST KEEP WALKING AROUND

At least Celebrimbor calls him on it

Don't be so coy, Celebrimbor, it's unbecoming

Which master would that be, Hal

Those gemstones look like resin

Jesus Hal can you not keep your hands out of other peoples business for five fucking minutes

Nice way to introduce the Numenorean obsession with immortality and rope Earien back in.

Pharazon 100% knows she's shacking up with his son and is keeping an eye on her

Gosh that must be freaky to have the delirious king go off on you like that

Looking in Palantiri is a dangerous business. It doesn't always lead you right...

Oh I like it when Celebrimbor gets that look in his eye

Is there a king in this show that is anything but an obstruction to the plot??

Halbrand is like the perfect rubber duck for Celebrimbor, sparking in him all these ideas that just need to coalesce

Celebrimbor's cape in this scene is kinda cool

GALADRIEL IS SUSPICIOUS

You tell him, Elrond

Ugh, they're right, they're jamming all the Cele-Hal into this one episode

All these elves look like fucking Vulcans with their short Roman ass haircuts

They're using these REALLY tilted overshoulder shots on Galadriel even more extreme than the height diff would indicate

Who are these ladies actually???

...You get stars that can only be seen in one place going north-south, not east-west. MAYBE If you are on a flat planet?

Did no one tell them that he doesn't like being called Sauron?

Pretty forward and controlling with someone they consider their master

Hide little harfoots!

The stranger is Aslan???

SADOC NO

Oh whoops that wasn't even their guy at all

Now he's mad

Yeah, get em! WHO'S YOUR GOD NOW

Oh here's the fucking wizard fight

Everyone gets to be awesome!

Oropher come collect these wicked ladies setting your forest on fire

Nooo, you're good!!!

Tell him Nori!

Geez, Sadoc is up and running around too!

Oh, Marigold, no

The Istar!

They're...moth...people? Some kind of wraith?

No! Ask the wizard to help him! At least try! T_T

Now he needs to drop the freaky cult staff and get him a proper walking stick

Valandil no... T_T

Miriel don't be mean he's just trying to help. There's no sense in pretending you don't need it

Your father was a fucking deontologist, Miriel

Suppose there's no real chance of hiding her blindness

Whoa. That is NOT the prediction I expected to come through, honestly. RIP Tar-Palantir

Your not doing science if there's not EXPLOSIONS

I sincerely believe Halbrand is just having a fun time doing science with his friends

Now Galadriel, you are the one who made him be a king. He wanted to stay in Numenor and make swords

Galadriel is REALLY suspicious

So Hal's just going for it, I guess

Get out of her fucking head, creep

DON'T TOUCH THE FREAKING DARKNESS OMFG GROSS

He does not handle rejection well does he

Now Galadriel, denying, him repentance isnt very Christian of you

Oh yeah, he was legitemately trying to be penitent with her...he's just very bad at it

Oh that is a cool shot. Very tied into the themes of light and dark

don't say it

Oh he didn't say it

See Sauron this is why she doesn't like you. You act like a fucking incel whenever you get the slightest pushback

Ooh, she failed her will save again

...THEY DECONFIRMED THE KIDNAP DADS???

So of course she's not brave enough to actually  tell them WHY they can't trust Hal. Could have made this all a lot easier

He can't actually trust you, Galadriel. Because you're lying to him

That's your answer? Not "Don't fucking do it the whole process is corrupt" just "make three"?

Yeah, we all knew that knife was toast. Much symbolic, very thematic

Damn he can actually like talk now

Poppy for president!

They're kickin ya out, Nori

Go with her poppyyyyyy

Continue to love the Harfoot gestural language

No see Poppy is clearly in love with Nori

GO WITH HER GFDI

Fuck you forever writers. That nose line was unnecessary

Is the blade silver too...??? We're not gonna adjust the ratios or anything? Okay

I MEAN it's good to have a silver knife when you're fighting werewolves....

Just chuck it in there, not like we're doing delicate mtalurgical science or anythign

Yes yes, the Eye of Sauron, we've all seen it

Movie shot recreation. Sin.

That poor scroll

How tf is Sauron going to get anywhere if everyone knows?

Don't smile like that Galadriel It's creepy. Gonna make everyone think you're not who they think you are

How is Nenya a different color than the other two???

Oooh, time to do some EVIL. Gotta go have a rematch with Adar.

Ugh don't sing. I can't handle it right now.

So we gonna get the other rings at some point?

[vamosaespana]

Mom time

I awoke to GB shaking me gently saying it’s 11:30. Holy guacamole that’s sleeping in😮 3 is awake and downstairs while 1 and 2 are still sleeping. 1 starts to stir and heads to the bathroom where you here the not so discrete slam of the toilet seat banging down on the porcelain. To which what quickly follows is 2 sticking her head out of her bedroom door yelling at whoever it may be to “keep it down some people are trying to sleep here!” Yup sounds like morning 🤦🏻‍♀️

As everyone starts to wake up, I have gotten accustomed to getting the clothes off the clothes hanger on the roof to fold and put away. I’ve gotten used to drying my clothes outside. There’s just something different about it that I can’t quite put my finger on it but I really do love it.

We all get ready for breakfast and as I finish getting ready GB lets me know that we are going to skip the ruins in Ithaca. After a late night and lots of running around, he thought it would be best if it was a chill day for the kids as we would have an early start tomorrow traveling on the train. The kids are all about it…tanning for 2, 1 lounging in the jacuzzi and 2 just chilling on her iPad and drawing. I agree but also wish I had been told sooner so as to not put on my full face but oh well. GB finds a little restaurant close to our house and we eat to our hearts content. I love the idea of tapas as you can try a sampling of all sorts of little apps as everything on the menu sounds amazing.

It’s at lunch I decide that I’m going to spend the day exploring solo. I return back to the house to grab my wrap so that I am church ready at any time. I had a tank top on with a long skirt so wanted to make sure I was respectful and had my shoulders covered. Normally this trip I have always been prepared but this time I forgot the shawl so had to head back quick to grab it. Once in the house, the kids split to their various ideas of relaxing and I head out.

There is a beautiful church just near our home from Our Lady of the Macarena. I’m so excited as it’s kind of a big deal. Apparently she is the patron saint of bull fighters and her statue is paraded around the city on her feast day. The story is a Lutheran threw a bottle of wine at that statue during one of the parades and it stained her cheeks red. Apparently the stain could not be removed no matter what they tried and her face is stained to this day. The man who threw the bottle of wine apparently carried the Virgin through the streets the following year as penitence for what he did the year prior. With anticipation I walk up to the gate to see its closed 😔 The church opens at 12 and 6 during the week and it’s currently 2:00. Oh well, at least I got to see the outside of it. I start out a main road and just walk. Not sure where I’m going or where this street will lead. I do have a paper map of streets on me so I can somewhat have my whereabouts but this is just going to be an adventure. I pass many churches, all closed unfortunately, but I do enjoy just looking at the outside’s beauty and imagining the inside must be even more beautiful inside. I take time to sit and enjoy little plazas with fountains to soak in the people and areas of Seville. There is no rush…it’s just me. It’s hot but I don’t mind it at all. I contemplated many a time stopping at a little cafe and having a drink or some tea but every time I think about it I think that maybe there will just be another one further down the way. I finally arrive at the Setas. This is a huge metal sculpture in the middle of a plaza that our renter told us at night they will put on a light show that is cool to see. Well it’s about 4:00 so won’t be seeing that but it’s cool that I’m able to see it in person and walk around.

I stop to take a minute to catch my breath and that is when on my map I notice four roman pilars. Apparently part of some Roman ruins…it’s not an Ithaca but at least I get to see something 🤷🏻‍♀️ Onward I go!

I then see on the map there is a huge tower nearby. Not quite sure why it’s special but it’s big enough on the map to make it look like a big deal so I’m on my way. It’s actually way closer than I thought and as soon as I turn a corner there it is.

Apparently you used to be able to go up the tower to the lookout point but it looks like it’s closed now. I take the obligatory picture and continue on my way. The cool thing is, without even trying to, I made a complete circle and am back on the street that has our house on it. Me for the Win!

Once back home, and someone eventually lets me in😒 I am soaking from sweat and totally gross. Time to hop into the jacuzzi. I pop in my podcast and just soak away, resting so quietly not even realizing my husband taking a pic of me with my mouth open dead to the world. I guess I may have slept for a bit 🤭

3 pops her head out and asks me if I’m hungry…this is a subtle way of saying “hey the rest of us are hungry but we realize you’re resting so don’t want to come right out and say it but in the end you really know what we are trying to do here…so can we go eat?” No worries I’m rested and ready for the next leg of eating extravaganza. As we walk to the restaurant GB picked out I see that the basilica of Our Lady of the Macarena is open!!!! I ask if I can pop in while they go check out the menu. It’s absolutely beautiful inside and there is a wedding going on during mass. So cool!!!! I say some prayers, see the beautiful couple getting married and then sneak out as other visitors did. Although I also saw many of the wedding goers also sneaking out and hanging out at the bars that surround the church 🤨 2 of them had the same pink/magenta dress…did the bridesmaids even sneak out 🫢 Anyway, the place GB picked was a no go so we keep walking around. We stop at this little bar to get snacks that were called “pollo Kentucky.” I don’t think you need to speak Spanish to know what that means…GB and the kids were stopping! As they snack on “pollo Kentucky” I find a restaurant that’s a hike but totally doable. As we start walking, we pass by our Ojalá place and definitely agree we will be stopping back here for the ice cream. We continue walking on and 2 spots a pizza place that looks so good. Well, pizza won and we end up mixing the restaurant and settle for pizza. It was perfect. We ended up playing our CLR game while we waited for the pizza and then enjoyed the biggest slices of pizza I have ever seen. The funny thing was I asked for a fork and knife and they just smiled and said we don’t have that here. So we made it work with our hands and had fun doing it.

We then made our walk back to Ojalá to cap off the night with ice cream and then walked home. The day was definitely not we had planned but it really worked out for the best for everyone. Another early morning tomorrow to catch the train to Valencia means packing up, doing laundry and making sure we are rested for the next half of our trip. Long train ride tomorrow means a day to chill and recharge so that we are ready to take on Valencia!

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Jump then Fall prt.7

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔴 ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫. 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫

Description: Y/N finds it difficult to stay away from Aeron after receiving his love letters. Aeron prepares to negotiate peace with Benjicot Blackwood in an attempt to end the conflict between their Houses and win his fair lady back to him.

Part 6

Warnings and writer's note: Female reader, swearing, angst with fluff, nauseatingly sweet love letters (Aeron is as per usual just trying his best). References events in The Blackwood Knight by Elizabeth :) References to Persuasion by Jane Austen and The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black.

Y/N had become a ghostly presence haunting her fathers halls. Her grief at Aeron's betrayal and the loss of her love consuming her whole. Each day a raven would arrive for her with another letter from Aeron, and she would read it and read it again until the parchment was crumpled, his words barely legible through the stains of her tears, perched in a window sill overlooking the vast expanse of Bracken lands. Her anger had diminished with each day they spent apart until only a pressing feeling of utter despair remained. Each letter Aeron sent stoked the dying embers of Y/N's belief in his love for her until a spark lit the fire anew. Surely he would not be so persistent and penitent had he never loved her, if he did not love her now?

She found herself daily imagining she would see Aeron walking the path to her father's home from her perch, demanding to see her. Would she be happy or angered by his presumption, she did not know. Her dissapointment that he did not come seemed to confirm the former, and yet she could not fault him for respecting her wishes to keep his distance. And even as she felt herself believing his words, forgiving him and so desiring to grant him her love again, she knew she could not when his marriage to Rosyln Tully was was essential to strengthening his House.

So, in her confusion over her own feelings she spent her days reading Aeron's letters, envisioning his brows drawing together in concentration and wishing to smooth the frown which arose as he considered what words would please her. She felt her heart fill with affection at the thought. She found herself letting out a half-hearted laugh as she pondered that Aeron must have asked Samwell for advice and he would surely have suggested all sorts of crude vulgarities in jest, which Aeron would immediately have rejected in abject horror. His words were too sweet, too soft, too full of adoration to be but his own.

My Darling Lady,

I do not know how to express my adoration for you in words that can be contained within the small form of a letter. I have acted selfishly and injured your heart when it is the dearest and greatest gift. I have so much of you in mine own that the thought of any harm befalling you terrifies me, and yet it is I who have harmed you by my infraction. With this raven fancy that I beg your forgiveness on my knees and write myself as your vassal. Your Knight does humbly ask you to rescind your order to part from your side. 

I urge you to come be angry at a nearer distance,

Your Good knight

His letters had began as fitful explanations of his conduct, of his intentions, each one more pleading than the last.

My Sweet Girl,

I entreat you to believe that there is nothing that I want in all the world but your precious love. For me your every action sets my world alight and recreates it from the flames anew. Your smile ever the brightest, your laugh ever the dearest sound, your kiss ever the sweetest. The world is made colourless by your absence and I am filled once again with admiration for your light, my world so much the darker without it. Even if you do not love me, I could not help being entirely devoted to you. Like a heathen it is your star I worship, not that of the seven.

Most fervently,

Your Good Knight

My Dearest heart,

I am reduced to a being that loves you and can hardly bear to entertain any other thought. I love you when I attend my duties, though I have not the heart for them without yours, I love you when I walk the paths we once trod together. I love you when I notice the golden leaves of our tree turn a deep red with the passage of your absence, and when my mind deigns to grant me rest it is of you and you alone I dream.

Ever Yours,

Your Good Knight

Hearing footsteps and turning to see a messenger approaching, she held the crumpled pieces of parchment to her heart and briefly shut hers eyes tightly to ward off her unspilled tears. "Another raven has come for you from Bracken Hall"

Y/N hastily took the rolled up parchment, ripping it open the moment the messenger turned the corner down the hall. Her eyes scanned the contents frantically and her heart leapt into her throat. His plan to treat with the heir of Raventree was rash, feckless, and sure to place him in danger that sent terror down her spine. And should he fail in his bold scheme she could be no more truly his than she was now. How could she selfishly give her heart to Aeron again when the political ramifications may be dire for his House and the Riverlands without the support of House Tully?

"Still hoping a lightening bolt will strike you down and kill you?"

Samwell waltzed into Aeron's Chambers without invitation, throwing the curtains open to allow some light to enter the room. Aeron lifted his head only slightly from where he'd placed it on his desk. He had yet to hear from Benjicot Blackwood and had heard nothing from his love for more than two torturous weeks.

"I confess I considered striking you down myself when I realised what you'd done you bloody fool. Piteous as you look now my dear fellow, it would be a mercy killing. But you owe it to both Y/N and yourself to fix this. What do you plan to do?" Samwell's tone suddenly turned serious as he pulled up a chair. Aeron sat upright and turned to face his friend.

"I have already done it, or at the very least set my plans in motion. I have sent a letter to Raventree Hall, asking the future Lord Blackwood to treat with me for peace."

Samwell's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "By the seven, I thought you'd turned to madness in your grief. Now I'm certain I was right. The Blackwood and Bracken enmity runs deep my friend."

"I'm aware Samwell. But I have reason to believe The Blackwood heir will be amenable, he is in love with my dear cousin. It would allow us both to marry the ones we love."

"Surely not Edmund?" Aeron shot Samwell a fierce glare at his attempt to jest at such a time and Samwell held his palms up placatingly.

"Right, you must make a success of it then. Does your lady know?"

"I sent a raven yesterday. She has not responded to any of my previous correspondence so I do not expect a reply now, but I still hold hope that if my words will not win her back to me they will help to heal the wounds I have wrought on her heart." Aeron closed his eyes and breathed in sharply, struggling to get his words out as he tried to maintain his composure. A sudden knock at his door sent a jolt through him and had his eyes snapping open to see his cousin Edmund standing sheepishly in the doorway.

Aeron's face contorted in rage. "What do you want?" He had avoided Edmund ever since the banquet, sure he would not be able to control his anger with him for placing more doubt in the mind of his lady all the while aware his anger was misplaced, it had been him who'd sown the seeds of his own destruction. Edmund closed the door behind him before coming to stand in the middle of the room, notably out of Aeron's reach.

"I wish to apologise for my actions in the banquet. In truth my intentions were to warn the lady to avoid her expectations being cruelly dashed should you marry the Tully girl. I see now that I was wrong and you loved her all along. I will help you if I can. I couldn't help but overhear you sent a letter to Raventree."

"Perhaps if you had not been standing silently outside my door" Aeron spoke through gritted teeth, not softened by Edmund's apology as yet.

"What I mean to say is that I have already spoken with Benjicot Blackwood of a potential peace pact when I caught him waiting for our cousin. He is equitable and will want to forge a way forward that will enable him to marry her. Let me join you at the border once you have his reply." Aeron's mouth parted slightly in shock at Edmund's uncharacteristic sincerity and his heart beat wildly in his chest as hope surged in him. If he could pull this off, they could bring peace to the Riverlands and surely Y/N would know that his love for her was true. He'd be changing the very fabric of his lands, the very foundations of his beliefs for her. "So be it, I will send for you when the time comes." Upon his dismissal, Edmund bowed his head respectfully and swiftly vacated Aeron's Chambers, leaving him with a renewed sense of determination.

A raven carried Benjicot Blackwood's acceptance to Aeron's proposed meeting later that day. They would meet at first light on the morrow.

Y/N had not wanted to leave the comfort of her home at all, nevermind go to Bracken Hall and risk bumping into Aeron. She could not trust herself not to just forgive him on the spot and fall into his arms. But her mother had insisted she get some fresh air and meet her father on his way home from council with Lord Bracken. Y/N knew that her mother was concerned about her wellbeing, moping about her fathers halls as she had been doing of late.

The whole journey to Bracken Hall, Y/N had been racked by trepidation and as she entered Aeron's ancestral seat she expected to run into him at every turn. When she reached the corridor which led to the council chamber she breathed a short lived sigh of relief before the object of all her hopes and fears rounded the corner, halting in his step at the sight of her.

With what looked like a concerted effort, Aeron stayed rooted to the spot and came no closer to her, though the slight upturn of his lips at seeing his lady after so long did not escape her. "My lady, can I enquire..."

"Don't, please don't smile or ask after me." She cut him off promptly.

"I do not wish to impose upon you my lady. But may I not at least enquire as to your wellbeing?" 

She did not know if it was the softness of his tone, as if approaching a startled deer, the gentle concern of his questioning, or the tenderness she could see in his eyes that prompted her tears, perhaps a mixture of all three. Tears flowed from her eyes unbidden and so she brought her hands to her face to cover them from Aeron, turning her back to him to ease her embarrassment slightly at falling apart in front of him. "Oh my love" she heard Aeron call to her, followed by brisk steps and the light touch of his hand on her elbow as he gently turned her to face him. He did not make a move to remove her hands from her face and for that she was most grateful.

Instead he placed one arm tentatively about her shoulders, pulling her into him, her head falling into the crook of his neck as he let his fall onto her shoulder. " I should not be leaning on you like this, not anymore" Y/N sniffled. Aeron held her tighter "You can ways lean on me. It matters not if you decide to cast me aside later. I will gladly comfort you if I can." He said nothing more, just holding her until her sniffles dissipated and her breathing had evened out. But he hastily grabbed onto both her elbows in alarm when he felt her weight slump more forcefully onto him as her legs began to give out. Quickly pulling her to sit on the bottom step of the nearby stairwell that led to his Lord Uncle's Council room, he knelt in front of her and looked into her face with concern, searching for any sign of injury.

Y/N was sure that it was just the lack of sleep and food catching up with her, and her emotional distress that had caused the wave of nausea and faintness to wash over her and send her swaying. "Have you been unwell my love?" By the tone of Aeron's voice she was sure she must look wretched, dark circles drawn under her eyes, which were red and raw from her tears. Breathing deeply and trying to calm the butterflies that erupted from his worry for her, Y/N willed herself to speak. "Could you bring me some wine, I think it would revive me."

Wordlessly Aeron rose back on his feet and dissapeared down the hall, quickly returning with a goblet of wine. Kneeling back down in front of her he handed her the goblet, their fingers brushing together as she took it from him. She blushed under his gaze as he wove one hand around her waist to help her sit up to drink and gently held her elbow in his other hand to help her bring the cup to her lips. After a few moments the wine took affect and Y/N felt much better, although embarrassment quickly washed over her at her actions and she could barely look at Aeron. Lowering his head to chase her eyes, he seemed to be assessing her condition. "I am alright Aeron, thank you for your help." His eyes positively lit up, a small smile spreading across his lips, she knew not why. At her look of confusion, Aeron's smile only grew. "You said my name" he practically sighed out and Y/N felt her cheeks blaze, at which a look of determination lit Aeron's eyes.

"Please do not tell me that I cannot win your trust back, that you will not love me again or allow me to love you, that such precious feelings are lost. Do anything but tell me there is no hope."

His voice was so earnest, his eyes so full of love for her that Y/N could not help but feel her heart concede to him, though her mind told her to remain cautious. Heart pounding, she looked down so he could not see for himself the warring emotions in her eyes. "There is hope." She whispered. She was moved by his efforts to prove his love to her through meeting with the Blackwood heir. She had barely spoken those words before Aeron had pulled her to him oncemore, her head falling onto his shoulder as he half laughed, half sobbed in gratitude and relief. Pulling away, he looked seriously into her eyes. "I will aspire to deserve this chance from you Y/N and I swear to you that I will prove my love to you."

Y/n returned home with her father that evening feeling as if a pressing weight had been lifted from her. She felt the deep wound she'd been dealt on the evening of the banquet tentatively beginning to heal, though she knew that they were not out of the woods yet.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @alexandracgg

[kitty-space-marine]

Mission to Fluxi X, Part 3

(this takes place circa 470M38)

I nodded to the Techmarine pilot, as our drop ship took off. As we flew down to the surface, I made sure the bike next to me was still secured, and I looked at the nine of us in the drop pod. It's not often that we deploy in battle, but I've already lost almost a full company of troops.

"Denilla will be fine Felicitia," I idly reassured my Chief Librarian as we waited, though she just shook her head.

"Of course the First Captain will be fine, she's not the First Captain for nothing, Rose." Felicitia looked unshaken, and I sighed.

"I know you have faith in her. By the Emperor, we already lost almost a company!" I could hear the drop pods that we were flying away from hit the ground, and our pilot informed us that we'd be there in a couple minutes.

Viktor patted my back, "Lady Vanfelis, it's okay, you did what you thought was best. Do you want me to scold Caius or do you want to."

I chuckled darkly. "No, that is my job Viktor."

We rode the rest of the trip in silence, and as the doors opened, I was greeted to a well established base. We got off in the only calm section of the chaos, with Viktor riding the bike. The pilot wished us well, and flew back towards the ship. I saw the dropship leave the atmosphere, and smiled.

"Well Albus, it's time to find out exactly what we're dealing with. Everyone, get settled and prepare to take charge of your specialists. It is time for me to have a word with our Chief Apothecary." Felicitia immediately ran to check on her Librarians, while Viktor found the six Chaplains and started talking to them. The Master of the Forge slunk off to check on the fortifications, while I marched deliberately towards the medical tent.

As I approached the medical tent, I caught sight of the half undressed Caius overseeing the surgery of our wounded.

I made my way right next to him, before clearing my throat. "Chief Apothecary Caius Bukh Ayanga, I never gave you the order to co-"

My scolding was interrupted as several Penitent Engines, the ghastly dreadnoughts of the Sisters Penitentia, crashed into the wall. Without thinking, I immediately wrapped my arms around Caius, as I saw a handful of Apothecaries get tossed like ragdolls and shot. We were all caught unawares, and I cursed to myself when I felt my arms suddenly holding air.

Caius had escaped my grasp, and was currently dashing up to one of the Engines with a scalpel in his hand. His surgery tray, alongside its contents and a bolter, was scattered across the floor. I quickly picked up a Bolter and shot at one of the Engines, before unsheathing my sword and cutting one arm off. As it turned towards me I beheaded the former Sister that was piloting it, and I glanced around, seeing about a dozen bodies on the floor, with the rest of the Apothecaries also moving to defend themselves and their patients.

A roar from Caius showed that he successfully killed the Engine he attacked. There were two left, though the remaining Apothecaries were in the middle of destroying a third.

"Catch, Ayanga!" I tossed him his bolter, and ran outside to see three Sisters Superior with flaming hands, cackling as a Legatine had her hands in the air in surrender, disgusted. The walls of our base were destroyed, and I saw the Techmarine's workshop was in a worse state than the Medical Tent, as it was on fire too.

"Hakin Ilkhak!" I yelled for my Master of the Forge, who was in the middle of setting up sensory equipment with the fourty Marines here before the attack. I saw barely a dozen Techmarines rise from the burning rubble, including them, and cursed.

"Witches! You will pay for this!" I snarled at the three Sisters, all of whom were cackling. One threw a fireball towards me, but a brief flash of ice showed that the Librarians were okay.

"Thanks Felicitia!" I didn't even look back as I charged at the Sisters, bisecting one immediately. I saw the Legatine pull out a knife, and was about to cut her down when she lunged at another of the Sisters, stabbing her before being immolated by the third Sister.

Felicitia, sounding like she was having fun, called out to me. "Get out of the way Rose!"

I barely managed to roll out of the way before a thunderbolt came from the sky, smiting the last of the Sisters.

I took a moment to catch my breath, and looked around at our base. I saw the Company tents were untouched, and the remnants of the 5th and 10th Companies, alongside the 6th, 7th, and 9th Companies were waiting for me. I then saw that this section of the base was trashed, on fire, and our fortifications were ruined.

Hakin shook his head at me. "Only eleven survivors here Rose."

I saw Caius come out of his wrecked corner, now fully armored, basically growling. "A dozen Apothecaries dead, twelve more of the wounded died. Rose I am marching towards the base and no one can stop me!"

I pointed to his bike, and glared at him. "The Bike Squads are out, you can lead our vanguard towards the lines that Denilla is setting up. I brought your bike for you. Now then!! Status report of everyone else?"

Everyone checked in that they were fine. It seemed that it was a surgical strike, and the sudden appearance of a planetary shield that hummed to life during the battle seemed to confirm it.

"Damn it, anyone who is comfortable driving a Rhino, please let us know. Hakin will coordinate our drivers, once our Bike Squads get back I want everyone either in a Rhino or on a Bike! We had just enough Techmarines to pilot the Rhinos here, and nothing more. It'll take us about three days to get to the Convent, so we need to move fast. the 1st to the 4th were dropped close enough that they should have coordinated by the time we get closer. Let's get moving people!"

As the Companies start to get ready to depart, I see a decent number of drivers walk up to Hakin, and I see that Viktor and my Honour Guard were now holding back Caius. Albus walked up to me, and I realized I hadn't sheathed my sword.

"Captain Vebe Kort just sent a vox that I picked up, she's gonna be here shortly. It seemed quiet, they didn't manage to catch up with any of the others before she heard the distress call. They were patrolling the area to make sure no one snuck up on the base. She apologizes for not going right towards the North, but her intuituon told her the fight was too easy."

I nodded, and we waited as the Squads reorganized, and I sighed. "Eighty-nine confirmed casualties Albus, that's basically a whole company. We still have the 5th and 10th's Command Squads, but what do we do about the numbers?"

Albus shrugged at me, and said something that I couldn't hear, as I was lost in thought. He then repeated himself, this time I heard him. "We have a Rhino set aside for you, Hakin is going to drive it, my Lady did you hear me?"

I shook my head, and brought myself back into focus. "Oh I did this time. And sorry Albus, but I think I'm gonna be ignoring the Codex once we get back. Gonna have to reorganize our Companies."

Albus rolled his eyes, and we made our way onto the Rhino, where I finally got to see Caius.

"Half of the Scouts and a dozen Apothecaries dead Rose!" He snarled and practically spit in my face, a fact that caused Albus to reach for his chainsword, before I gestured that it was okay. "They were my people, and now you're telling me to wait! You're lucky my coffee thermos wasn't even scratched. Oh Albus, do thank your wife if we ever get off this hell hole!"

Albus smiled at that. His wife, a Votann trans woman, was his only joy in life, or so he said.

"How about you calm down and drink some. I had Hakin lock the wheels of the Haligan, you'll get it unlocked when we're ready to go." I heard the distant roar of our bikes, and then gave Caius a strained smile. "Which will be soon, it seems!"

"You did what to my bike!?" Caius snarled, and Albus stepped between the two of us.

"Your tendency to run into danger when upset could have ended with you dead, old friend. Give us an hour, and you can lead the way!" I turned away, leaving Caius to snarl and bark at Albus. Captain Vebe informed me that there was no sign of the Chaos Sisters, and that outside the mountains our base was established on, it seemed that there was little in the way of terrain from which to ambush us in. Until, that is, we got to the forests that cover much of the area around the Convent.

Around an hour later we had everyone in Rhinos, and we were off for a long, anxiety inducing ride. Caius took off at a roar, riding Haligan and swinging his Power Hammer around. The first day of travel was uneventful, although no words from Denilla did make me worry.

"Tzeentch is the probable God that we're up against, my Lady." Felicitia's words caught me off guard, as we began the second day of travel.

"The well coordinated attacks alongside those psykers, Witch-Sisters is a good name for them, has led me to that conclusion. I just hope there's not many more psykers among them, otherwise we may be screwed." I sighed, and shook my head. "I wish I just deployed everything at once."

"You couldn't have forseen this Rose, there were no indications when we checked that there were any major defenses we'd need to breach." Viktor placed a hand on my shoulder, and I nodded slowly. "You like being cautious and diplomatic, it hasn't steered us wrong yet."

"You're right, as always Viktor." I smiled and we went back to idly chatting as we waited to make contact with the enemy or arrive at our new front line.

[terinour]

Harvey and the old lady / Harvey et la vieille dame

Harvey and the old lady

Harvey walked his loneliness as others would walk their dogs. He would collect the little things, a mundane event, the weather of the day and sometimes take a picture with his polaroid. He would slip his views and writings into a notebook. After a few years Harvey had become an explorer of the everyday and a collector of a new kind.

He did not believe that everything had been discovered and that nothing new could happen. For Harvey, there were still untapped and infinite resources, starting with the human interior. He had decided to dedicate himself to this research for the rest of his life. He was not in pursuit of precious stones, works of art or forgotten temples in the depths of inhospitable jungles, but of something that he himself could not define.

Harvey had many notebooks filled with notes and photos. That morning he sat on one of the park benches next to an old lady.

She turned to him and asked:

- Are you a writer?

- I write but I am not a writer

- It's just for you

- That's what it is

The old lady squinted her eyes as she looked towards the kindergarten. After a long silence she said:

- Excuse my indiscretion, but what are all these notebooks for?

- I am looking for some light, I am trying to understand myself

- It is normal not to understand everything. It is our way of living this incomprehension that distinguishes us from one another. I just have to come here and observe. Look at these children, for example. What does that inspire you? - They are not aware of the passage of time and this may be the source of their happiness. They easily get in touch with each other. They have fun with little, pieces of wood, stones. They succeed most naturally where others fail throughout their lives. It makes me think of this sentence of Nicolas Boileau: "He who lives contentedly with nothing possesses everything".

- Is this the kind of stuff you write in your notebooks? - Yes, I must have written it down somewhere

- Yes, but where did you write it down? In your notebook, in your brain or in your heart? Do you have children?

- No, I don't. For a while I lived with a woman who wanted them

- And you didn't want them?

- In fact, it was a time when I was very often annoyed and for nothing. One day I found myself alone with my anger.

The old lady nodded her head. She moved closer to him, stretching her wrinkled neck:

- You remind me of a penitent. You've never actually forgiven yourself.

Harvey didn't know what to say. Deep down he knew the old woman was right, but he couldn't accept it. She continued:

- You've gone from one extreme to the other

Harvey remained silent as she continued: - One day anger and the next day penitence. A long time ago someone said "stop doing, and just experience being". Perhaps you should accept yourself, and especially forgive yourself.

The old lady got up with difficulty, leaning on her cane. Before leaving him alone with himself, she concluded:

- When you get there, you will find that light. Then you won't need to search anymore.

Teri Nour

Note: I had translated my own text below in french. I apologize for this appoximative translation with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version).

Harvey et la vieille dame

Harvey promenait sa solitude comme d’autres auraient promené leur chien. Il collectait les petites choses, un événement banal, la météo du jour et parfois prenait une photo avec son polaroid. Il glissait ses vues et ses écrits dans un carnet. Au bout de quelques années Harvey était devenu un explorateur du quotidien et collectionneur d’un genre nouveau.

Il ne croyait pas que tout avait été découvert et que rien de nouveau ne pouvait arriver. Pour Harvey il demeurait des gisements inexplorés et infinis, à commencer par le territoire intérieur humain. Il avait donc décidé de se vouer à cette recherche pour le restant de ses jours. Il n’était pas à la poursuite de pierres précieuses, d’œuvres d’arts ni de temples oubliés au fond de jungles inhospitalières, mais de quelque chose qu’il n’arrivait lui-même pas à définir.

Harvey avait beaucoup de carnets noircis de notes et garnis de photos. Ce matin-là il s’était installé sur l’un des bancs du parc, à côté d’une vieille dame.

Elle se tourna vers lui et demanda : – Vous êtes écrivain ? – J’écris mais je ne suis pas écrivain – C’est juste pour vous en somme – C’est ça

La vieille dame plissa les yeux en regardant vers le jardin d’enfants. Après un long silence elle reprit : – Excusez mon indiscrétion mais, à quoi il vous servent tous ces carnets ? – Je cherche un peu de lumière, j’essaie de me comprendre – Il est normal de ne pas tout comprendre. C’est notre façon de vivre cette incompréhension qui nous distingue les uns des autres. Il me suffit de venir ici et d’observer. Regardez ces enfants par exemple. Que cela vous inspire-t-il ? – Ils n’ont pas conscience du temps qui passe et c’est peut-être là la source de leur bonheur. Ils entrent facilement en contact les uns avec les autres. Ils s’amusent avec peu, des bouts de bois, des cailloux. Ils arrivent le plus naturellement du monde là où d’autres échouent tout au long de leur vie. Cela me fait penser à cette phrase de Nicolas Boileau : « Qui vit content de rien possède toute chose » – C’est ce genre de trucs que vous écrivez dans vos carnets ? – Oui, j’ai du le noter quelque part – Oui mais où l’avez-vous noté ? Dans votre carnet, dans votre cerveau ou dans votre cœur ? Vous avez des enfants ? – Non. Un temps j’ai vécu avec une femme qui en aurait voulu – Et vous vous n’en vouliez pas ? – En fait c’était une époque où je m’énervais très souvent et pour un rien. Un jour je me suis retrouvé seul avec ma colère.

La vieille dame hochait la tête. Elle se rapprocha de lui en tendant son cou ridé : – Vous me faites penser à un pénitent. Vous ne vous êtes jamais pardonné en fait. Harvey ne sut quoi répondre. Au fond de lui il savait que la vieille avait raison, mais il n’arrivait pas à l’accepter. Elle reprit : – Vous êtes passé d’un extrême à l’autre Harvey resta silencieux tandis qu’elle poursuivait : – Un jour la colère et le lendemain la pénitence. Il y a longtemps quelqu’un a dit « arrêtez de faire, et faites l’expérience d’être, tout simplement ». Peut-être devriez-vous vous accepter, et surtout vous pardonner.

La vieille dame se leva difficilement, en s’appuyant sur sa canne. Avant de le laisser seul avec lui-même, elle conclut : – Lorsque vous y arriverez, vous trouverez cette lumière. Alors vous n’aurez plus besoin de chercher.

le 21 mars 2021

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

*slides over a contract for my soul signed* so ugh....whats Gurney like with his lil baby?

*takes up contract and tucks it into the false bottom of my desk drawer before cracking knuckles*

Warnings: A worrying Gurney Halleck, a shirtless Gurney Halleck, the whisper of a breeding kink—

Well let's see

When the baby is very very small, Gurney is a worrier.

He's afraid to even hold the baby for a while.

He can be gentle with you, but you're grown.

Being gentle with something so small...He's afraid of inadvertently harming the child.

You think it's sweet at first, and then it becomes frustrating.

He wants to look after the baby, he wants to help, but he looks at the small bundle in your arms, and the roughness of his hands, and rather than holding the child or changing them, he cleans up around the home.

It is still help, but it's also difficult for you to always hold the child.

So you orchestrate a ruse to leave him alone with the baby—you have Lady Jessica call for you urgently. You know that the child will wake up from their nap, but you tell Gurney that they'll stay down

You're gone for two hours.

When you finally get back in, you find Gurney cradling the baby against his bare chest, humming gently to them as they gurgle.

You just watch for a few moments, leaning in the doorway.

Both Gurney and the child seem so calm; Gurney looks so happy

"...How did it go?" You ask lightly.

"Fine," Gurney coos, hardly looking away from the baby.

"And the baby seems comfortable."

"Yes."

You cuddle up behind him, resting your head against his shoulder as you both peer down at the baby. "So you're capable of holding your own child?"

"...More than," He admits in a mumble before he turns his head, pressing a penitent kiss to your forehead.

Gurney becomes addicted to holding the baby.

If he's home and the child cries, he's up before you can even think to stand.

Well, he's missed out on a couple of months of holding them, so he's making up for lost time.

He's an excellent diaper-changer

There is some initial hesitance in patting the baby's back to burp them, but once he realizes he's not patting their backs too roughly, he settles into that, too.

Some nights, you and the baby fall asleep to the sound of Gurney playing his balliset.

On those nights, he shepherds you all to bed.

Once you and Gurney in bed, the cradle with the sleeping babe beside you, Gurney cuddles up with you.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, murmurs his thanks for your love and your child, and falls asleep wrapped around you, the cradle in his sights.

There are some days when he's training Paul that he thinks of one day training his own child.

There are some nights when he and Leto commiserate over fears for the future, and for their children's futures.

And there are other nights still when he loves you, and murmurs his want for another—

And I oop—

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Brienne VI (Chapter 31)

It's a long one, because I needed to sound off. I won't apologize!

The septry stood upon an upthrust island half a mile from the shore, where the wide mouth of the Trident widened further still to kiss the Bay of Crabs. 

[...]

"Saltpans is just across the water," said Septon Meribald, pointing north across the bay. "The brothers will ferry us over on the morning tide, though I fear what we shall find there. Let us enjoy a good hot meal before we face that. The brothers always have a bone to spare for Dog." Dog barked and wagged his tail.

No kidding.

+.+.+

"Why do they call it the Quiet Isle?" asked Podrick.

"Those who dwell here are penitents, who seek to atone for their sins through contemplation, prayer, and silence. Only the Elder Brother and his proctors are permitted to speak, and the proctors only for one day of every seven."

[...]

A vow of silence is an act of contrition, a sacrifice by which we prove our devotion to the Seven Above.

Atoning for their sins? Vows of silence? How boring. How long is this going to take?

Fuck this, when can we get Sandor back in the game to fulfill all my fantasies?

+.+.+

"If you would sleep beneath a roof tonight, you must climb off your horses and cross the mud with me. The path of faith, we call it. Only the faithful may cross safely. The wicked are swallowed by the quicksands, or drowned when the tide comes rushing in. None of you are wicked, I hope? Even so, I would be careful where I set my feet. Walk only where I walk, and you shall reach the other side."

Queenscrown vibes.

+.+.+

The path of faith was a crooked one, Brienne could not help but note. Though the island seemed to rise to the northeast of where they left the shore, Septon Meribald did not make directly for it. Instead, he started due east, toward the deeper waters of the bay, which shimmered blue and silver in the distance. 

[...]

A hundred yards out, Meribald turned abruptly toward the south, so his back was almost to the septry. He proceeded in that direction for another hundred yards, leading them between two shallow tidal pools. 

[...]

Septon Meribald turned and turned again and yet again. His footprints filled up with water as soon as he moved on. By the time the ground grew firmer and began to rise beneath the feet, they had walked at least a mile and a half.

Remember this for later.

+.+.+

Three men were waiting for them as they clambered up the broken stones that ringed the isle's shoreline. They were clad in the brown-and-dun robes of brothers, with wide bell sleeves and pointed cowls. Two had wound lengths of wool about the lower halves of their faces as well, so all that could be seen of them were their eyes.

Convenient.

+.+.+

"Lady Brienne is a warrior maid," confided Septon Meribald, "hunting for the Hound."

"Aye?" Narbert seemed taken aback. "To what end?"

Brienne touched Oathkeeper's hilt. "His," she said.

The proctor studied her. "You are . . . brawny for a woman, it is true, but . . . mayhaps I should take you up to Elder Brother. He will have seen you crossing the mud. Come."

That's strange, he seems concerned.

+.+.+

Way down at the far end, well away from the other animals, a huge black stallion trumpeted at the sound of their voices and kicked at the door of his stall.

[...]

Brother Narbert sighed. "The Seven send us blessings, and the Seven send us trials. Handsome he may be, but Driftwood was surely whelped in hell. When we sought to harness him to a plow he kicked Brother Rawney and broke his shinbone in two places. We had hoped gelding might improve the beast's ill temper, but . . . Brother Gillam, will you show them?"

Brother Gillam lowered his cowl. Underneath he had a mop of blond hair, a tonsured scalp, and a bloodstained bandage where he should have had an ear.

That's the Hound's cranky black stallion, Stranger.

Remember how complicated it was to get to this island? I'd love to know who guided Stranger.

+.+.+

On the upper slopes they saw three boys driving sheep, and higher still they passed a lichyard where a brother bigger than Brienne was struggling to dig a grave. From the way he moved, it was plain to see that he was lame. As he flung a spadeful of the stony soil over one shoulder, some chanced to spatter against their feet. "Be more watchful there," chided Brother Narbert. "Septon Meribald might have gotten a mouthful of dirt." The gravedigger lowered his head. When Dog went to sniff him he dropped his spade and scratched his ear.

"A novice," explained Narbert.

You love to see it.

"The little bird thinks she has wings, does she? Or do you mean to end up crippled like that brother of yours?" - Sansa IV, ACOK

The author never forgets.

+.+.+

Brother Narbert led the visitors around a chestnut tree to a wooden door set in the side of the hill.

"A cave with a door?" Ser Hyle said, surprised.

Septon Meribald smiled. "It is called the Hermit's Hole. The first holy man to find his way here lived therein, and worked such wonders that others came to join him. That was two thousand years ago, they say. The door came somewhat later."

Is this supposed to remind me of anything?

+.+.+

Unlike Septon Narbert, the Elder Brother did not seem dismayed by Brienne's sex, but his smile did flicker and fade when the septon told him why she and Ser Hyle had come. "I see," was all he said, before he turned away with, "You must be thirsty. Please, have some of our sweet cider to wash the dust of travel from your throats."

That's weird, he seems troubled.

+.+.+

"My lady is too kind. All we do is cut and polish the wood. We are blessed here. Where the river meets the bay, the currents and the tides wrestle one against the other, and many strange and wondrous things are pushed toward us, to wash up on our shores. Driftwood is the least of it. We have found silver cups and iron pots, sacks of wool and bolts of silk, rusted helms and shining swords . . . aye, and rubies."

That interested Ser Hyle. "Rhaegar's rubies?"

"It may be. Who can say? The battle was long leagues from here, but the river is tireless and patient. Six have been found. We are all waiting for the seventh."

Never has a passage broken so many brains.

+.+.+

"Not all the river's gifts are pleasant. The good brothers collect the dead as well. Drowned cows, drowned deer, dead pigs swollen up to half the size of horses. Aye, and corpses."

"Too many corpses, these days." The Elder Brother sighed. "Our gravedigger knows no rest. 

Good.

Not good that there's lots of dead people, but. . . whatever, you know what I mean.

+.+.+

He turned to Septon Meribald. "I hope that you have time to absolve us of our sins. Since the raiders slew old Septon Bennet, we have had no one to hear confession."

I don't get it, can't you confess to each other?

+.+.+

The smile vanished. "They burned everything at Saltpans, save the castle. Only that was made of stone . . . though it had as well been made of suet for all the good it did the town. It fell to me to treat some of the survivors. The fisherfolk brought them across the bay to me after the flames had gone out and they deemed it safe to land. One poor woman had been raped a dozen times, and her breasts . . . my lady, you wear man's mail, so I shall not spare you these horrors . . . her breasts had been torn and chewed and eaten, as if by some . . . cruel beast. I did what I could for her, though that was little enough. As she lay dying, her worst curses were not for the men who had raped her, nor the monster who devoured her living flesh, but for Ser Quincy Cox, who barred his gates when the outlaws entered the town and sat safe behind stone walls as his people screamed and died."

"Ser Quincy is an old man," said Septon Meribald gently. "His sons and good-sons are far away or dead, his grandsons are still boys, and he has two daughters. What could he have done, one man against so many?"

He could have tried, Brienne thought. He could have died. Old or young, a true knight is sworn to protect those who are weaker than himself, or die in the attempt.

"True words, and wise," the Elder Brother said to Septon Meribald. "When you cross to Saltpans, no doubt Ser Quincy will ask you for forgiveness. I am glad that you are here to give it. I could not."

I hate to include it, but the chewing tells the reader who it was.

Noseless grinned. "You're the funniest thing I seen since Biter chewed that septa's teats off." - Jaime III, ASOS

George has used Meribald as a mouthpiece in the past, so he might be trying to convey he believes Ser Quincy is worthy of forgiveness.

Unfortunately my heart is made of stone, so I'm siding with Brienne. Punish him.

+.+.+

Meribald pronounced a prayer before the food was served, and whilst the brothers ate at four long trestle tables, one of their number played for them on the high harp, filling the hall with soft sweet sounds. 

Some people believe that's Rhaegar Targaryen.

+.+.+

By the time the readings were completed, the last of the food had been cleared away by the novices whose task it was to serve. Most were boys near Podrick's age, or younger, but there were grown men as well, amongst them the big gravedigger they had encountered on the hill, who walked with the awkward lurching gait of one half-crippled.

Quick question for the audience.

Regardless of the topic, have you ever read a Hound meta that doesn't conveniently skip over the fact that he can barely walk?

No judgment, I'm impressed with their determination. He may have a disability that severely limits his ability to move, but they're not about to let that get in the way of their [Vale tourney, Cleganebowl, A Knight in Sansa's Queensguard, etc.] meta.

+.+.+

"Only the castle remains. Even the fisherfolk are gone, the fortunate few who were out on the water when the raiders came. They watched their houses burn and listened to screams and cries float across the harbor, too fearful to land their boats. When at last they came ashore, it was to bury friends and kin. What is there for them at Saltpans now but bones and bitter memories? They have moved to Maidenpool or other towns."

It's not a matter of great importance, but it would be nice if someone restores Saltpans by the end of the story.

+.+.+

I wonder, my lady . . . what do you hope to find there?"

"A girl," she told him. "A highborn maid of three-and-ten, with a fair face and auburn hair."

"Sansa Stark." The name was softly said. "You believe this poor child is with the Hound?"

[...]

"Your Dornishman did not lie," the Elder Brother began, "but I fear you did not understand him. You are chasing the wrong wolf, my lady. Eddard Stark had two daughters. It was the other one that Sandor Clegane made off with, the younger one."

"Arya Stark?" Brienne stared open-mouthed, astonished. "You know this? Lady Sansa's sister is alive?"

"Then," said the Elder Brother. "Now . . . I do not know. She may have been amongst the children slain at Saltpans."

The words were a knife in her belly. No, Brienne thought. No, that would be too cruel. "May have been . . . meaning that you are not certain . . . ?"

I'm not calling her dumb. Brienne with an ounce of hope is a beautiful thing.

+.+.+

I do not know where she is, or even if she lives. There is one thing I do know, however. The man you hunt is dead."

That was another shock. "How did he die?"

"By the sword, as he had lived."

"You know this for a certainty?"

"I buried him myself. I can tell you where his grave lies, if you wish. I covered him with stones to keep the carrion eaters from digging up his flesh, and set his helm atop the cairn to mark his final resting place. That was a grievous error. Some other wayfarer found my marker and claimed it for himself. The man who raped and killed at Saltpans was not Sandor Clegane, though he may be as dangerous. The riverlands are full of such scavengers. I will not call them wolves. Wolves are nobler than that . . . and so are dogs, I think.

Nobler. Please shut up, George.

I'm sure everyone put it together, but in case anyone is confused, it wasn't a real burial. It was symbolic.

+.+.+

"I know a little of this man, Sandor Clegane. He was Prince Joffrey's sworn shield for many a year, and even here we would hear tell of his deeds, both good and ill. If even half of what we heard was true, this was a bitter, tormented soul, a sinner who mocked both gods and men. He served, but found no pride in service. He fought, but took no joy in victory. He drank, to drown his pain in a sea of wine. He did not love, nor was he loved himself. It was hate that drove him. Though he committed many sins, he never sought forgiveness. Where other men dream of love, or wealth, or glory, this man Sandor Clegane dreamed of slaying his own brother, a sin so terrible it makes me shudder just to speak of it. Yet that was the bread that nourished him, the fuel that kept his fires burning. Ignoble as it was, the hope of seeing his brother's blood upon his blade was all this sad and angry creature lived for . . . and even that was taken from him, when Prince Oberyn of Dorne stabbed Ser Gregor with a poisoned spear."

Sounds like a eulogy to me.

It looks like Sandor Clegane has been doing lots of confessing. The most important detail here is that he's fully aware his brother is dead. Sorry, Game of Thrones.

+.+.+

"It is true, then," she said dully. "Sandor Clegane is dead."

"He is at rest." The Elder Brother paused.

Make up your mind.

Our gravedigger knows no rest. 

Anyway, at rest. At rest. Let him rest! It's done. It's over.

+.+.+

All in all, I was a sad man. When I was not fighting, I was drunk. My life was writ in red, in blood and wine."

"When did it change?" asked Brienne.

"When I died in the Battle of the Trident. I fought for Prince Rhaegar, though he never knew my name. I could not tell you why, save that the lord I served served a lord who served a lord who had decided to support the dragon rather than the stag. Had he decided elsewise, I might have been on the other side of the river. The battle was a bloody thing. The singers would have us believe it was all Rhaegar and Robert struggling in the stream for a woman both of them claimed to love, but I assure you, other men were fighting too, and I was one.

Wait a second, you're not actually dead!

God I love Daenerys shade.

At the Trident, those brave men Viserys spoke of who died beneath our dragon banners—did they give their lives because they believed in Rhaegar's cause, or because they had been bought and paid for? - Daenerys II, ASOS

+.+.+

I can only think that someone found me in the shallows, stripped me of my armor, boots, and breeches, and pushed me back out into the deeper water. The river did the rest. We are all born naked, so I suppose it was only fitting that I come into my second life the same way. I spent the next ten years in silence.

That's great and all, but we need to get Sandor Clegane to the Vale, so is there any way we can fast track this process? Would a few weeks suffice?

+.+.+

"I see." Brienne did not know why he was telling her all of this, or what else she ought to say.

"Do you?" He leaned forward, his big hands on his knees. "If so, give up this quest of yours. The Hound is dead, and in any case he never had your Sansa Stark. As for this beast who wears his helm, he will be found and hanged. The wars are ending, and these outlaws cannot survive the peace. Randyll Tarly is hunting them from Maidenpool and Walder Frey from the Twins, and there is a new young lord in Darry, a pious man who will surely set his lands to rights.

Lol, nope! He's got more important things to do, such as. . . hm.

+.+.+

All of it came pouring out of Brienne then, like black blood from a wound; the betrayals and betrothals, Red Ronnet and his rose, Lord Renly dancing with her, the wager for her maidenhead, the bitter tears she shed the night her king wed Margaery Tyrell, the mêlée at Bitterbridge, the rainbow cloak that she had been so proud of, the shadow in the king's pavilion, Renly dying in her arms, Riverrun and Lady Catelyn, the voyage down the Trident, dueling Jaime in the woods, the Bloody Mummers, Jaime crying "Sapphires," Jaime in the tub at Harrenhal with steam rising from his body, the taste of Vargo Hoat's blood when she bit down on his ear, the bear pit, Jaime leaping down onto the sand, the long ride to King's Landing, Sansa Stark, the vow she'd sworn to Jaime, the vow she'd sworn to Lady Catelyn, Oathkeeper, Duskendale, Maidenpool, Nimble Dick and Crackclaw and the Whispers, the men she'd killed . . .

"I have to find her," she finished. "There are others looking, all wanting to capture her and sell her to the queen. I have to find her first. I promised Jaime. Oathkeeper, he named the sword. I have to try to save her . . . or die in the attempt."

Brienne jumps on the confession train, and comes out with even more resolve. I love her.

Final thoughts:

Consider this my closing arguments.

The Hound is here:

(Have you noticed I've become a map dork? There's nothing I can do, you're going to have to put up with it.)

The Quiet Isle. An island that sits in the middle of the Trident, which houses a monastery.

The following people are hunting him down:

Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners.

"He answers to the name Sandor Clegane. Thoros says he was making for the Twins. We found the ferrymen who took him across the Trident, and the poor sod he robbed on the kingsroad. Did you see him at the wedding, perchance?" - Epilogue, ASOS

x

Dondarrion's men are looking for him too. They have put out word that they mean to hang him for what he did at Saltpans. They had no part of that. - Brienne V, AFFC

Randyll Tarly and his forces at Maidenpool.

This Tarly, he's a hard man, but a braver lord than Mooton. There's still outlaws in the woods, but not so many as there was. Tarly hunted down the worst o' them and shortened them with that big sword o' his. - Brienne III, AFFC

x

My cousin Alyn [Hunt] is off hunting outlaws. Doubtless he'll return with the Hound's head, gloating and covered in glory. - Brienne III, AFFC

House Frey.

The wars are ending, and these outlaws cannot survive the peace. Randyll Tarly is hunting them from Maidenpool and Walder Frey from the Twins - Brienne VI, AFFC

x

The killers scattered when they left Oldstones. Lord Vypren tracked one band to Fairmarket, but lost them there. Black Walder led hounds and hunters into Hag's Mire after the others. - Jaime IV, AFFC

Ser Bonifer Hasty and the Holy Hundred.

Maester Gulian will be remaining with his ravens, Lord Lancel is nearby at Darry with his garrison, and Lord Randyll holds Maidenpool. Together we three shall hunt down and destroy whatever outlaws prowl these parts. [...] "If it is Sandor Clegane that we encounter, what would you have me do?" - Jaime III, AFFC

Harwyn Plumm (Hardstone), commander of the garrison at Darry.

"Where will I find Hardstone?"

"We had a report of outlaws beyond the Trident. Ser Harwyn took five knights and twenty archers and went to deal with them." - Jaime IV, AFFC

Ser Lyle Crakehall (Strongboar), Jon Bettley, and their men-at-arms.

"Evil work." Strongboar filled his cup again. "Lady Mariya, Lady Amerei, your distress has moved me. You have my word, once Riverrun has fallen I shall return to hunt down the Hound and kill him for you. Dogs do not frighten me." - Jaime IV, AFFC

x

Strongboar grumbled at that, but finally agreed. The next day he departed with his squire and men-at-arms, plus Beardless Jon Bettley, who had decided that hunting outlaws was preferable to returning to his famously homely wife. - Jaime VII, AFFC

He's also made an enemy of the newly reformed Faith Militant, and they're everywhere.

Some of my sparrows speak of bands of lions who despoiled them . . . and of the Hound, who was your own sworn man. At Saltpans he slew an aged septon and despoiled a girl of twelve, an innocent child promised to the Faith. - Cersei VI, AFFC

x

Armed peasants, he did not fail to note. Some had scythes, some staves, some hoes sharpened to cruel points. There were axes in evidence as well, and he spied several bearded men with red, seven-pointed stars sewn onto ragged, filthy tunics. More bloody sparrows. Where do they all come from? - Jaime IV, AFFC

And of course Brienne, but that's a search that's been abandoned.

He's fucked. He's so fucked you need a new word for fucked.

Look at the map again.

He's trapped! Where can he go?

South is all House Lannister crownlands. You might remember he's still in trouble for a little thing called desertion.

West is the Brotherhood Without Banners, House Frey, Ser Bonifer Hasty and the Holy Hundred, House Darry and Harwyn Plumm.

East is closed off. Randyll Tarly controls the only port out of the Trident. Saltpans has been abandoned. There's a reason the Brave Companions couldn't get across the narrow sea.

Lord Randyll's men still prowled the docks, as thick as the flies had been on the heads of the three Bloody Mummers, but their serjeant knew Brienne by sight and let her pass. - Brienne V, AFFC

x

Saltpans was never an important port, but ships did call there from time to time. That was what the raiders wanted, a galley or a cog to carry them across the narrow sea. When none was at hand, they took their rage and desperation out upon the townsfolk. - Brienne VI, AFFC

x

"There is no one left at Saltpans but an old knight hiding in his castle, Alyn said." - Brienne V, AFFC

Randyll Tarly leaving for King's Landing does not change this.

North? NO. No. The Neck is an absurd suggestion, and the high road to the Vale is closed.

The high road to the Vale is closed by snow, even if he could get past the mountain clans. - Brienne V, AFFC.

He's already been told it's a death trap.

His dream of selling Arya to Lady Arryn died there in the hills, though. "There's frost above us and snow in the high passes," the village elder said. "If you don't freeze or starve, the shadowcats will get you, or the cave bears. There's the clans as well. The Burned Men are fearless since Timett One-Eye came back from the war. And half a year ago, Gunthor son of Gurn led the Stone Crows down on a village not eight miles from here. They took every woman and every scrap of grain, and killed half the men. They have steel now, good swords and mail hauberks, and they watch the high road—the Stone Crows, the Milk Snakes, the Sons of the Mist, all of them. Might be you'd take a few with you, but in the end they'd kill you and make off with your daughter." - Arya XII, ASOS

And he's obviously incapable of 1) getting up that mountain, and 2) defending himself when he's on it.

they passed a lichyard where a brother bigger than Brienne was struggling to dig a grave. From the way he moved, it was plain to see that he was lame. - Brienne VI, AFFC

x

amongst them the big gravedigger they had encountered on the hill, who walked with the awkward lurching gait of one half-crippled. - Brienne VI, AFFC

He's trapped.

Stuck.

FUCKED.

That's not my opinion, the author made that as clear as can be.

"The Hound butchered three of his brother's men at the old inn by the crossroads, here. He led the raid on Saltpans, here." He tapped Saltpans with his finger. "He may be trapped. The Freys are up here at the Twins, Darry and Harrenhal are south across the Trident, west he's got the Blackwoods and the Brackens fighting, and Lord Randyll's here at Maidenpool. The high road to the Vale is closed by snow, even if he could get past the mountain clans. Where's a dog to go?" - Brienne V, AFFC

Spelled it out for the whole fandom.

There's no solution to this. All these lands can change hands, and the Hound will still be a wanted criminal. It's the end of the line. There's nowhere for him to go. He doesn't have a friend in the world.

The second he hobbles off the Quiet Isle, he will be apprehended and killed. This is not Arya Stark we're talking about. This is the most easily identifiable man in Westeros. He can't run (literally) or hide from anyone.

And trust me when I tell you, they (you know) realize how fucked he is. That is why they invent insane theories, where the Hound is somehow glamorizing himself with rubies, so he can magically get himself off this island without being detected.

Here on planet earth, anyone with a functioning brain can see this is a hopeless situation, and the natural conclusion of a character arc.

The Quiet Isle is his forever home. He's struggling to dig holes, and atoning for his pathetic life. That's the best he could have hoped for, he should be dead. Whisking him away to the Vale or North would only undermine this journey to salvation.

I promise you, unless somebody like Arya visits the Quiet Isle in the future (lol, why exactly?), you will never see this character again.

The Hound is dead, and in any case he never had your Sansa Stark.

He never did, and he never will.

Good riddance.

-> return to menu <-

[mrvlbimbo]

Justice: chapter one

Vigilante x reader

Masterlist here

Besties Forever

In the time since Chris Smith got out of the hospital, he tried to keep a low profile. As low of a profile as someone like him could keep. It was just dumb luck that Adrian Chase had managed to catch a glimpse of him eating at the restaurant he worked at.

Adrian Chase was a vigilante ironically named Vigilante. When he found out his idol and best friend was back in the business he was filled with an overwhelming sense of purpose. It reminded him why he did what he did.

He came to the conclusion that it was time to get the gang back together. This meant breaking into the apartment of another old friend, Lady Justice. He never really knew what her deal was. She was a quiet and severe person with a penitent for violence and a natural talent for it as well.

He also didn’t know much about her backstory except for the fact her and Peacemaker were attached at the hip. Back in the day they all were, they did everything together. “Everything” being fighting criminals and stopping crime.

He had assumed Peacemaker had already gone to see her but she seemed like an easier person to talk to than him at the moment so he went to see her first. The window to her bathroom was unlocked so that's how he got in.

He crept into the kitchen where she was stirring a pot on the stove and humming. Without thinking he announced, “Honey, I’m home!” She cursed and launched the spoon at his face with perfect aim, cracking the eyepiece of his mask.

When she got a closer look at him she covered her face and yelped. “Don’t look!” Unlike Peacemaker, or Chris as they both knew him as, they both liked to keep their identity a secret. Despite him knowing the coordinates to her house he didn’t know her name or what she looked like.

“Come on, your disguise is sunglasses and a ponytail. I’m gonna figure it out eventually,” he whined, flopping down on the couch and pouting.

“What are you here for, V?” she asked, staring at him sternly through her fingers. Her other hand was perched on her hip.

“Chris is out of jail,” he explained, reaching over to her coffee table to examine the magazines. It was a mix of old playboys and tabloids.

“Holy fucking christ on a cracker!” she yelped, running out of the room. He giggled at her extreme reaction and waited for her to come back. After a few minutes she had returned in a revamped version of her old costume.

Rather than her old aviator glasses, she wore a vizor that looked like ski goggles. Her old costume was very American, it consisted of cowboy boots, jeans and a bulletproof vest over a button up shirt. Her new costume had no hint of a logo or national identity. It was a black catsuit with a hard chestplate and a utility belt. She used to look like a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and now she looked like Batman or some shit.

She stood there for a moment to wait for him to stop staring. Then she picked a knife out of her belt at lightning speed and landed it directly above his ear on the arm of the couch. “Break into my house again and I’ll kill you. Now let's go see him,” she offered her hand and helped him off the couch. He stumbled after her in his dazed state.

He nervously tapped his hands on the center console as they drove to Peacemaker’s house. “Sooo. How ya’ been?” Adrian asked in a sing-song voice. She ignored him and turned up the radio, clutching the steering wheel so hard he thought it might explode.

“Are you excited to see Peacemaker?” He asked, ignoring her stiff demeanor. She shrugged and let out a pained sigh, taking her eyes off the road for a moment.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, in an attempt to console her. “It’s ok to not be ok,” he offered in his somber but optimistic lecturing voice.

She grabbed his wrist tightly and ripped his hand off of her. “I will bite you,” she threatened.

He just giggled at her show of aggression. Her and Peacemaker were two peas in a pod. Except he was a little less temperamental. “Feisty,” he commented with a wide grin that was hidden by his mask.

She rolled her eyes and continued to ignore him for the rest of the car ride. When they got to his house Adrian went to the back window and she walked straight up to the door. He was confused but he didn’t take the time to question her since she was clearly already grumpy.

With ease she kicked through the front door and went into the house. She heard music coming from Chris’s room so she knew he probably hadn’t heard her come in. She meandered around the house until she was at the door, for good measure she kicked that one open as well.

Whatever conversation they were having, it stopped for Peacemaker to yell “What the fuck?”

“Don’t you what the fuck me, Chris Smith. I’m gonna fucking kill you,” she snapped, marching over to the bed and slapping him in the face. Then she marched over to the window to stand next to Adrian. “Don’t let me kill him,” she commanded, pointing a finger at the vigilante's chest.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded in an awestruck tone.

“First you get caught doing some stupid shit and go to jail for years and then you get out and get killed. EXCEPT you’re not actually dead and for some reason through all of it you don’t call me once?!” she yelled, pacing around the room and throwing random objects at him.

“Yeah, why aren’t you in prison right now?” Vigilate added, nodding his head at her rant.

“It’s a secret,” he grumbled, clearly lying and clearly annoyed by whatever the truth was.

“Come on you can tell me i’m your best friend,” he pleaded, following after Peacemaker as he left the stomped out of the room. Close behind him was the other hot tempered crime fighter.

“You’re not my best friend,” he replied in an almost confused voice.

Despite not being able to see his face it was clear from his body language that he was upset by that. “Yeah obviously I’m his best friend,” the woman interjected.

“No! Eagly is my best friend,” he yelped.

“Ok, who's your best friend that's a human?” Vigilante questioned, a hint of hopefulness still in his voice. She nodded and voiced her agreement.

“I don’t know either of your secret identities,” he complained, deciding that was his excuse for not calling them his best friends.

They both said the same thing, albeit in slightly different ways. Explaining how their identities were secret because they wanted to be careful and keep the people who knew them out of trouble.

“Whatever. If I’m not your best friend then you’re not my best friend. Vigilante is my best friend now,” she grumbled, putting up a hand for him to high five.

“Aw yeah. Besties for life,” he exclaimed, nodding his head.

She rolled her eyes at his childish nature and turned her attention back to Peacemaker. “I’m bored. Wanna go shoot some shit?” she offered, grabbing a random gun off the mantle and walking towards the door.

“Hey! I was about to ask that,” Vigilante whined, following her out the door.

She grinned and tossed him the keys. “Then lead the way.”

A/N: ok I KNOW I’m working on two stories at once and I have a part time job and school BUT I think I can do it and how could I not write a fic for him he’s so cute <3333 chapter two coming tomorrow, stay tuned!!!

[wheredafandomat]

Friends with Benefits

Reader x Thor x Loki

⚠️18+, college au, swearing, maybe some implied smut, mentions of drugs, violence.

Part 13

Previous Part

Next Part

Hanging up the phone, you threw it to your bed as you slapped a hand over your mouth. You blinked away the tears that threatened to fall after hearing Thor and Bucky outside your room. You felt a strange feeling of betrayal.

“He’s with someone.” You sniffled, looking at Thor one you swung your door open. He was currently putting his top on as he looked at you with a solemn expression knowing that Loki was still with Jorja. He felt awful.

“It’s not what it seems y/n.” Thor insisted, facing you.

“What are you both, two delusional parrots with all this it’s not what it seems?” You scoffed, mimicking his voice “it seems he was naked, she was naked for fuck sake.” You breathed, running a hand through your hair “do you know what, you can fuck off too.” You decided, entering your room once again as you swung open your wardrobe and took out Lokis clothes that you had stupidly kept from the other day. “And give these to your prick of a brother.” You screeched, throwing the clothes at Thor “fuck you both.”

Bucky stood next to you both, watching the interaction as you pushed Thor out of the door, throwing the clothes that he dropped. You slammed the door before you turned to look at Bucky who had a sympathetic expression.

“Wanna smoke?” He offered, hoping it’d brighten your mood. Instead of answering verbally, you sadly shook your head no. “Aww, baby but you always wanna smoke.” He cooed to which you shook your head again as you stepped away from the front door you had just shoved Thor out of. Walking towards you, Bucky grinned before he spoke. “Want me to” he began before lowering himself to your ear and whispering the most explicit things.

“That was one time Bucky!” You gasped, pulling away from him.

“And what a night that was.” He smiled as if in recollection “I wonder if Natasha remembers it too?”

“Bucky!“

“Okay sorry, wanna cuddle?” He asked “with clothes?”

You nodded your head before Bucky put an arm around your back before walking with you into your room. You both laid on the bed, Bucky spooning you as he drew absent shapes on your arm. You resisted the urge to cry when you realised it would be ridiculous if you did considering it wasn’t as if Loki cheated on you.

“You don’t deserve it y/n, none of it.” Bucky spoke breaking the silence.

“I know.” You agreed.

“You’re a beautiful, smart, funny person and if the brothers can’t see that then it’s their loss.” He continued.

“Bucky I’m not with them both!” You exclaimed.

“Oh.” He gulped.

You were both in silence for a while longer until the sound of someone entering the flat sounded.

“Nat?” You called. Opening the door, Natasha entered your room, kicking her shoes off.

“How was the exam?” You asked, pulling the covers back on the other side of Bucky.

“Good, really good.” She smiled.

“Proud of you!” Bucky praised.

“Me too Natty.” You smiled as Natasha settled into the bed too, trapping Bucky in the middle. Raising his arms, he put each oneunder your heads. The three of you laid in a silence for a few moments until Natasha broke it.

“Y/n?”

“Mm.”

“Did you have sex in here today?” She asked, sighting the condom on the floor near the bin in the corner.

“Maybe.” You answered, grinning.

“Ew!” She gasped, jumping up from the bed “Bucky how are you not grossed out? Wait a minute, you two?”

“No!” You and Bucky answered in unison.

Meanwhile, Thor made his way back to the flat holding Lokis clothes, feeling nothing if not penitent. He had allowed his own selfish intentions come between something that could have blossomed into something rich. He himself wasn’t able to provide you with love, real love, but what if Loki could? What if he could and he’s just ruined it? What if you live your life as a crazy cat lady because he stopped you from finding true love in college? It was all too much for Thor to handle. His heart was heavy.

When you hung up the phone, Loki swallowed thickly as if trying to swallow down all his emotions. He put his phone down before taking Jorja’s arm off of him and standing up.

“Where are you going? What happened?” She questioned, wrapping his duvet around herself.

“Jorja you are a wonderful girl and last night was fun but—” he began until she interrupted him.

“I’m not a prostitute but Thor paid me.” She shrugged.

“What? He paid you!”

“But Im not a prostitute remember.” She clarified.

“Thor p-paid you to have sex with me?” Loki spoke, brows knitting in anger.

“I think it sounds like I’m a prostitute but I’m not, I’m an AP English major.” She spoke, mostly to herself in contemplation “but this isn’t the first time. Hmm. Am I a pr—no. I’m not.”

“Get out!” Loki ordered.

“But you don’t think I’m a prostitute right?”

“OUT!”

“I’m going I’m going.” She scoffed, picking her clothes up.

Loki sat on the bed, wondering how he had managed to get into this mess, why he listened to his fucking brother. He quickly dressed and went to Thors room but it was empty. Fuming, he sat on the bed waiting for him to return.

Walking into the flat and throwing Lokis clothes onto the couch, Thor headed towards his room before he felt a punch in the face. Stumbling backwards, he held his nose as Loki punched him again. He knew he deserved it but damn it hurt.

How Bucky felt between y/n and Nat

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