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aphroditesmoon · 1 year ago

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sea, swallow me (part I)

jacaerys velaryon x fem!velaryon!reader

Part 2

summary: when jacaerys finally meets the hidden bastard of corlys velaryon, he loses interests in his betrothed Baela and intends to make her aunt his, but are you really what your family has made you up to be?

warnings: this fic is inspired by the movie 'song of the sea', CANON DIVERGENCE, slowburn, aged up jace (18 yrs old), reader has selective mutism (she CAN talk), reader is 5 years older than jace, selkie! reader, reader's race is NOT specified. cursing, nsfw content in future chapters,typical ASOIAF sexism, typical asoiaf targcest.

A/N: this part is moreso an introduction, the next chapters will have more stuff going on promise<3

taglist: @marytargaryen , @cdragons , @libdarkheart

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The day that the rumours of Corlys' Velaryon's illegitimate child was spread by the man himself in vague tell-tales, was the same day that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon was celebrating his third name day.

The skies on Driftmark turned dark by afternoon, a rare sighting of a thunderstorm had appeared. And while every mankind on the land had went off to hide themselves in the comfort and warmth of their homes, an 8 year old child of the seas drifted ashore, she had not drowned, but she knew to act that way as to lead the oblivious guards towards her.

Brought onto land to be passed around to the servant quarters, you fell right into the master of the land himself.

Corlys should've brushed you off, should've sent you right back to the kitchen maids, but the unnerving bravery in your eyes hadn't made sense for a child that was supposedly, probably, had almost drowned due to a shipwreck.

So he took in the sight of you, standing tall, wordless when spoken to, similar even when not. A white complicated looking hugging your body. He is not one to be superstitious, even moreso his wife Rhaenys who had been againts his suggestion the moment it was spoken aloud, but his heart made him halt whenever he even thinks of shrugging you away.

The trusting unknowing look you have for him wasn't helping, you gazed at the life around you in awe, suprise, and even fear at times. So he did what everyone warned him againts, he announces her as his bastard child from a dead noble woman, and them proceeded 1to denounce your illegitimacy, claiming you under the Velaryon name.

The whispering guards and chattering servants could talk all the wanted, for all they knew, the real truth of who you were was uknown to everyone but Corlys Velaryon.

♣︎♧♣︎

Your heart's yearning was divided in two. The calling of the sea, and the wanting of land. You were not as free as you sister Laena nor your brother Laenor, and you weren't given respect as much as they did either, given your known identity.

But you relished the joy of being able to dance on your two feet, to feel water as how it feels to a man, and to see the people in a much closer view.

You don't mind the constant nagging of your maidens as they fuss over your unkempt hair or your bare foots often forgetting their shoes. You asked for this, and you don't regret it. Besides, there was no one there for you in the sea, your kind understood you, they know you, but your mother has left you in her death, and you don't quite crave the grief and loneliness again.

Though now that you've grown, you realise, it was quite inevitable either way.

The day you lost your sister, you thought that was the end of it, but the gods had taken your brother too soon enough. You cried for the first time that year, and you felt what the mortals had written poems and ballads of.

For all of your wanting of more freedom, you were glad to be confined in your room during their funerals.

You would've thought that the passing of her children would make Rhaenys Targaryen more open towards you, but you were wrong. You were greeted with hostility you've never known. The glare she often saved for you reads what others couldn't understand; it should've been you, not them.

Laena's daughter Rhaena had been placed under her care soon, you rarely saw her. Rhaenys' making sure that your paths never cross.

But even with the power she held over you, your father's power proved to overtook hers when he announced that you were to be introduced to society, and to your extended family, for your own benefit and the Velaryon's house, in his own words.

So you locked up your white coat in your treasure box, and you prepared yourself for your first feast, a celebration for your two and twentieth name day.

♣︎♧♣︎

The attendance for your feast was outstanding. The servants had said so, it hadn't been a minute since it started, and the usually empty hall was already half full.

You knew from Corlys' warning, that half of these people aren't really here for your name day celebration, they're here to see if the rumours were true. "Do not talk to anyone I haven't." He speaks sternly. You stared at him blankly, receiving a sigh of realization. "Right, well, don't, warm up to anyone I haven't." He corrects himself.

You nod once smiling thankfully at him before leaving his chambers.

He and Rhaenys would be the first to be announced, and then Rhaena, and then you.

But staring at the large doors hiding what you've heard to be a room full of nothing but hungry vipers, your stomach churns.

You flinch when you feel a set of hands clasp your shoulders gently. It was Rhaena. "Are you alright?" She asks in a hushed tone. You nod your head twice.

She holds you still as her eyes lingers on yours longer than before. "Do you want to walk together?" She asks again.

You don't hesitate to accept her offer, nodding at her question. Please, you almost whispered back. She smiles at your answer and you feel her hands slowly sliding away. "Alright, I'll let grandsire know, don't fret." She tells you soothingly betore making her way to Corlys.

A few minutes after that, Rhaena scrambles by your side as your father and his wife enters first before you, their names loudly announced, as if everyone and their mothers didn't know who they were. Humans are hilarious.

Your hand unintentionally grips Rhaena's as your names were announced after. Her fingers easily intertwining with yours. "Don't smile." She notes quickly when she saw you grinning widely. Your smile died immediately. You walk side by side, your feet trying to move in the same rhythm and steps as hers, and your eyes watching straight at your seated father, staring back at you with a small smile etched on his lips.

You could feel the stares still when you finally reach the table, giving out a elieved sigh as you take your seat by Corly's right, Rhaenys to his left, and Rhaena to your right, hands still clasped together until noble houses are starting to be announced.

You do as you're taught, you smile and nod, and let your father do all the talking.

House Lannister stood out to you most so far. You can't decide if Jason Lannister is arrogant or bad at arse kissing. A person to turn any conversation about themselves

"You are as beautiful as they say." He starts, eyeing you in whole. "Tell me my lady, do you ever envy your siblings that had dragons?" You hesitated, turning to Corlys instead of responding.

"She does not, and the both of us know she would not need one, my dear girl fares better in the sea." He answers for her with a bitter laugh at the end of his sentence, as if shooing the man. "Ah I see, truly a daughter of yours then." The table turns silent. Jason Lannister's own smile dissapear as quickly as it came, realizing his mistake too late.

Your father's lips pursed together, a brow raised as he leans closer to the table. "Yes, she is." The coldness in his voice indicated the Lord of his time to leave. With a quick thank you and honor to meet you's, Lord Lannister leaves.

You hear the man next to you mutter an incoherent insult under his breath, wiping a hand over his already tired face. "People have eyes, Corlys." Rhaenys justifies. "And Mouths." She added, making him groan as House Baratheon are announced. "Oh believe me, I know." He replies shortly, awaiting Lord Baratheon. Thankfully the man was quick, and polite, though you were sure you weren't the only one who noticed how his eyes stayed on your face, a judgmental intent behind them.

But at least he knew not to say anything disrespectful out loud before walking off.

You watch your father's eyes light up for the next house, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. House Targaryen. "Finally, a house with more manners." His wife snorted at his words. "Pretend niceties aren't manners." You feel Rhaena stiffen next to you. "That boldness of yours will get you in trouble one day Rhaenys." He warns lightly, in which she only hums carelessly in return.

You almost laugh at contrast of the white and darkhaired family walking your way. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the throne, holds your eyes as she walks nearer. You hae never met your sister in law before, you've seen her through faraway window glances, but she looked at you like she's seen you, like she recognises you.

Her husband, prince consort Daemon Targaryen however, you have met. Once, while he had been staying in Driftmark with Laena during her pregnancy with Rhaena. He saw you leave Laena's room the same moment he was about to enter and spoke your name in a guess. When you turned in his direction at the call, his suspicion was confirmed. What he never understood howerver, was why would Corlys go through many lengths of restricting her from meeting people and hiding her identity?

The court wouldn't have given two shits over another man's bastard daughter. He knows it well enough.

It seemed the question he bore was the same question everyone else wondered, thus why they're all here, willing to feign courtesy and respect towards a so called bastard.

Now he's seeing her again, and it makes things even more confusing. Surely he knows how ignominious she'd feel, being put under the spotlight after 15 years of entrapment. Did he know that this feast was as good as feeding you to wolves? Was that what he intended to do in the first place? Sell you up to the first noble lord willing to take in a bastard Velaryon girl as his wife? And why did Daemon Targaryen cared so much about this girl, when he knows that nothing about her deems worthy of his attention.

Those thoughts ran through the mind of Daemon Targaryen until he's close enough to you that he had to turn his eyes towards Rhaenys' and Corlys' faces instead.

"And where has this lovely dear been all along?" Rhaenyra was the first to speak, greeting the lord and lady of the house properly first. "Ah well, if you had been here more frequent with my son, you could've caught her plenty." He replies easily.

Daemon hummed and bobbed his head. "It's true, I believe this isn't the first time we've met, yes?" He raises a brow at you, a small warm smile painted on his lips.

You responded with a smile that matched his and nodded once. The veracity in your every move made you look like a puppet with strings he's not sure who holds in their hands.

What Daemon Targaryen has not realized yet, was that Corlys velaryon's hands on you were barely a grip. They lead you because you let them. And for a girl who swam her way up into one of the most richest and well known houses of Westeros at 8 years old, you knew more than anyone thought.

♣︎♧♣︎

The dark coloured halls of the Velaryons were lit brightly with gold ornaments and lights. Jacaerys doesn't think he's ever seen much wealth be spent on his mother's own wedding.

The singer hired for the event pauses only for a few minutes before she resumes her orchestral performances. No one pays the music mind of course. The center was you.

He'd kiss your hand and tell you that you had your father's eyes. But that was a lie. His ears maybe, if he squinted closely at yours. He smiled at you and he says the things that he should. It is lovely to meet you. It is a lovely feast. May you continue to age as gracefully as you are now.

And then he walks away and never look back, just as he's told to.

It shouldn't be that big of a deal, or at least thats what he thought. But his mother had given him clear instructions earlier that evening. Do not mingle, do not talk more than you should, the rumours around you sre bad enough. The people will see what they want to and spin those pictures into false stories.

A bastardy affair? Laughable. He's sure the Queen would eat it right off her spy's hands. But still, his gaze on you lingered.

You had an air around you that gave the idea of naivety and carelessness. But he's not so sure if that's the real case here, or are you just so sure in your own sense of self and identity to not fear the men ready to point their fingers in your direction at the first moment they could.

He hopes he'll never see you again after this, his curiosity has always won the best of him.

"She is pretty, though Rhaena's right, you only see how much she resembles grandsire when you're up close. I've met her once, as a child. I don't thisnk we talked at all, but I do remember her gifting me a scarf." Baela's calm voice reached his ears clearly even through the loud chatting and extravagant music.

He raises his head from his food to glance at her. "That's nice, do you still have it?" The girl shook her head and pursed her lips. "No, Rhaena stole it, and then lost it." His face breaks into a grin. "Sounds like her."

He gives another quick glance to your table and looked again when he notices you weren't there. His head moves slowly until he catches the sight of you, standing straight, in front of Dalton Greyjoy. The Red Kraken was what they called him.

Jacaerys could see him speakingas he frowned, glancing from your face to the nothingness behind you as he's deep in his own talking. You were silent, only your eyebrows moved up and down to indicate understanding. He forgets sometimes how some men prefer their women mute.

The Greyjoy boy was waving his hands now, as if an invisible object laid before him. You start to lean slightly againts the serving table and he wondered the same thing you were; when will he stop talking?

"He's a little bit too young to be that pretentious now, isn't he?" Jacaerys says loud enough for Baela and Lucerys to hear him. "He's a year younger than you." His younger brother quipped. Jace frowns. "What? He's 17?" Baela hums in reply. "Doesn't make him any less pretentious." Jace concludes, earning a laugh from both of the people seated by his side. "Ah yes, he's probably explaining how killing people works to her." Baela adds. "I wish someone would tell him how conversation works, she hasn't said a word still." Luc says, the three of the them staring at you now.

"She's mute, Luc." Jace corrects, turning back towards the table, watching as his mother and Daemon make conversations with the other houses. "No she's not, Rhaena said she's heard her talk to grandsire before in one of her letters." The boys' eyes widen. "Then why does she never talk to anyone else?" She shrugs, feeding herself a spoonful if pudding.

A sigh escapes him as he pushes away his plate, his appetite lost. If he'd ask you to talk? Would you? Is that what it was, had no one asked you to talk?

Dalton Greyjoy's face seems unamused as you shook your head at him, his mouth moves once more and his head tilts at you in question, you shook your head again, immediately moving away from him, and straight into Jacaerys' stepfather. The 17 year old took in his defeat and walked away, and Jacaerys watches as Daemon Targaryen speaks so slowly that he can't make up what he's saying fron where he's situated.

You held a steady posture, and your face doesn't give away any reaction, it is stoic, but not cold. "Should I ask her to dance?" Jace suggests. Luc and Baela shares a look of disagreement. "Right in front of our parents? You know we shouldn't get too close to her." He almost doesn't even hear what his betrothed says when he stands up abruptly. "I'm gonna ask her."

Baela stutters and he hears Luc mutters for the love of the gods, as he makes his way to you and Daemon.

He can see his stepfather sigh audibly when he arrives. "Ah, You've met Prince Jacaerys, the heir after his mother, Rhaenyra. Jace, we've been talking of her fondness of the sea, your father said he's only taken you sailing with him when you were 8?" You nod, acknowledging the prince with a smile.

"Then, have you been on a dragon? Surely Laena or Laenor must've offered you a ride once." You shook your head.

Daemon's grin only widens. "Well that only means that you're long overdue a staying at Dragonstone, right Jacaerys?" A nervous laugh leaves the younger man. "Oh yes, I do a bit of uh, sailing sometimes, on my mother's orders. I also have a dragon." He explains, taking in your beauty properly.

"You've seen a dragon up close?" He tries, watching Daemon relaxes as his eyes darts from you to Rhaenyra. Both men are disappointed when you sshook your head, nudging utin Corlys' direction. "He worries to much for you, it is true that getting too close to a dragon for someone without valyrian blood in their veins, is dangerous. But with the right company, you won't have a problem."

You suffer the awkward conversation between the two men, willing for someone to drag you away.

It wasn't that they were rude, or terrible. But you don't think you've ever talked to this much people in your life. Your voice disaappears as it always do, and your usual smile is starting to feel forced.

You were enticed by the idea of travelling to Dragonstone. You've never seen much if anywhere outside of Driftmark, it was boring. But you also knew that the Targaryens are no different from the other houses. They don't offer kindness in return for nothing. And they sure as hell did not see you as family, for you know how much they protect their families.

So why such civility and effort? You could offer no allegiance as a bastard, nor could you even be used as a pawn.

You've blocked out half of what Daemon Targaryen has been saying the past two minutes, eyes still on him, trying to ignore the boy staring intently at the side of your face.

When the older prince finally excuses himself, you were relieved, only to turn around towards his stepson who's been awaiting your attention. "Do you dance?" You shook your head. A dissapointment 'oh' came after. "Do you not know how?" He tries again. The same answer prevails.

You could dance if you wanted to, but you doubted it'd make you feel better. In fact, you're sure dancing with him would attract more attention and not just to you. His mother surely won't be pleased with more rumours surrounding her son. So you give a bow and you leave, walking far away enough until you're sure he's not looking.

But you don't see him watching you barely sit by your father for barely a second before disappearing completely from the crowd. And you didn't see him do the same thing.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #hotd x reader #jace velaryon x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #jace targaryen x reader #hotd #jacaerys targaryen

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everlastingdreams · 11 months ago

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The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 23

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: The Wrath Of The Gods

Notes: /

Warnings: !Grief!. !Violence!. Torture. !Sexual Assault!. !Rape Threat!. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter: 23/ It’s a secret.

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Lancelot fell over on his side. Your body caved in at the sight of it happening, “No! Please, no!!!”

The Hidden’s enraged voices took over all sound.

You fought to get to him before it was too late to save him with your magic, the Brothers used their combined strength to keep you on the floor.

They forced you to watch him suffer, blood streamed out of his chest fast and began to pool under him.

The many times you had screamed out his name were countless, it was like being in a haze.

It took longer for Lancelot to die than the others, and by the time it was over you sat defeated and drained on the cold tile floor. Your vision was blurred completely by the tears.

This was the Reaper’s way of motivating.

Soran was saying something, you heard not a word of what it was.

Your eyes did not move away from the Ash Man, your friend, that had met a cruel end.

Only when the Reaper knelt down in front of you did you hear, “Bring him back.”

You spat in his face in response.

Soran held back his anger and rose to his feet. “Unhand her.”

The Brothers let go off you immediately at his command.

Soran coldly said, “Change his fate. Or will you leave him to rot?”

With the shock going through your body, you did not trust your legs. You crawled to Lancelot, your knees were in the blood when you got to his side. “Lancelot…”

The leaf pattern that had risen to the surface of his neck, no longer looked green, they looked withered like leaves who had abandoned their tree long ago. A sob cruelly forced it’s why out of you at the sight of it, you couldn’t stop them from flowing out of you anymore, the agony had taken hold on your body in the worst way.

Soran had left the knife where it was, a cruel act.

You could not heal a person when a weapon was still in their heart, the Reaper must have known this.

It forced you to remove the knife from Lancelot’s heart, and doing so was the most awful thing.

The knife fell from your hands, you didn’t want to touch it ever again.

“I am so sorry.” You sobbed and touched his cheek.

It was testing the Reaper’s patience it seemed. “Stop wasting time!”

You felt physically ill, it did not stop you from cupping Lancelot’s face and quietly begging the Hidden for help. “Please… hear my plea… give me your strength.” The green glow overtook your eyes, “And I will be your summoner.”

The Hidden’s power surged through your veins at the offer and it felt almost too strong to bear.

This magic felt wrong, like the Old Gods themselves gave it to you with great reluctance.

Still, you selfishly took it from them. If they decide to punish you for it, so be it.

Your head began to hurt, and as the pain increased blood came from your nose.

Your vision blurred until all you saw was green and all you heard were the Hidden.

The Old Gods had accepted you as their summoner and took control, proving how powerful they could be.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

The cold that enveloped you in the cell had you jolt back into consciousness.

Inside the cell it was dark and it only added to your disorientation. You tried to get up and your legs gave up immediately.

Gods… you were tired.

It felt like you had been trampled over by a horse. You crawled to the bars and held on to one. What had happened after you had lost control to the Hidden? Had they made you do the impossible? One thing was for certain, it had drained you.

An attempt to call out Lancelot’s name failed miserably, your voice was both too weak and too strained, his name changed into air instead of a word because of it.

Your throat hurt and your trousers were covered in blood. His blood…

They had left a meal for you, the soup was still warm. The grief made it difficult to swallow a sip of soup to fix your sore throat.

You drank some, no longer caring if it contained poison, you needed to catch your strength and the warm soup helped your throat.

When you called out for Lancelot, louder this time, you waited for a reply.

The wait lasted and you had never felt so alone. You put the soup down and knocked it over on purpose.

It was as if your body had shut down, there was no hunger or thirst anymore. There was no point to drinking soup to fix your throat if there was no one there to hear your call, at least no one that you cared about.

The Ash Man’s death was numbing.

The only feeling truly registering was of the cold iron bars against the side of your face.

You had not even heard them enter the dungeon and only noticed them when the group of Brothers stood outside your cell.

“She’s finally awake. Soran will be pleased.” These bastards sounded happy to find you alive. Even though they had left you in a cold dark cell unconscious.

The cell door was opened, and you were still too weak to get up off the floor.

It took two of them to tie your wrists and drag you out of the dungeon whilst the others helped.

They weren’t taking you to the dinning hall, it took too long and the route was different.

They opened the door to a bedchamber, the carpet flooring was softer to sit on when they left you there and locked the door. They didn’t even bother to help you sit on the bed, you sat on the floor, looking at it.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the Reaper walked into the room, your mind was elsewhere.

He spoke his usual madness. “We control the balance of life and death.”

Your thoughts slowly returned to you, “What?”

Soran kept a small distance. “The Weeping Monk is alive.”

Your eyes snapped to him, it didn’t feel real, was he even telling the truth?

Your question was sharp, “Where is he?”

He was deliberately vague. “We are keeping him somewhere else right now to see how well your magic has worked.”

You tried to get up from the floor and managed to do so by using one of the bed posts as support. “I want to see him!”

Soran had not expected the news to fuel you so. “I was right to believe in the legend of the Dawn Folk.”

You hated that he had been right. “This is wrong!”

He stepped closer, hand close to a knife on his belt, “Did you consider it wrong when you brought the Monk back from the dead? No. You are willing to defy the odds if it serves your purpose, just like I am.”

How dared he compare himself to you?!

You were tired of his blatant attempts to try and get you to join his cause. “I will not damn my people for you! The Hidden gave me the power to save a Fey. They make it no secret that they are the gods of the Fey and not of Manbloods. This sort of magic is against the rules of nature itself!”

Soran knew how weak you were after such use of your powers, he took the opportunity to get physically closer. “ In a few decades, a new Brotherhood will be born of the Dawn Folk. Half-bloods, but your legacy will spread and bring victory to the Church. My warrior blood, mixed with yours.”

It was the final insult to your clan, for them to become what had caused their erasure. He would turn them into murderous monsters, they would be able to heal and bring each other back from the dead, an enemy to be feared. Even one Dawn Folk child would be enough to heal the Brothers for years to come and ensure that the Brotherhood grows in power.

He continued to try and act like this was normal. To try and… charm you? Did he truly think you could ever fall in love with him??

He tried to caress your cheek and you quickly moved away, using the bed as support.

You tried to get that idea of of his head before it lead to trouble. “The Church will never accept Feys as allies!”

Soran was unwavering in his belief. “You saw how Father Carden used his Weeping Monk, his name is feared among the Fey. Not even the Holy Father will disapprove when the Dawn Folk rises to bring us glory. The Brotherhood will be undefeatable, Dawn Folk will heal their brethren.”

The danger he posed to you was evident.

You fed him doubt, “What if I can’t carry children? Have you ever thought of that in your ‘great’ plan?!”

He did not care for the torment it would put you through, his eyes were on the goal. “We will try. Your gods are no strangers to using their powers to assure the Fey are surviving. And I know the secret to children of the Dawn Folk. A full moon.”

It was a long kept secret among your people that all Dawn Folk children were conceived on a night with a full moon, that was the key. If the Reaper knew, it meant one of the Dawn Folk must have told him.

Soran had not a glimmer of real compassion in his eyes. “Think of my offer. You could become the most powerful woman in the lands at my side.”

He was truly delusional.

Finally you got back some strength in your legs and used the bedpost as support to try and take some steps away. “The only thing I would become is a monster!”

You noticed how he kept his hand close to the belt that held the knives across his chest.

He tried to reason, “In time you would be seen as a saint. Your children will save many.”

“Many bastards of your Brotherhood!” You snarled.

There was a change in his eyes.

Your instincts kicked in and with the little strength in your legs, you bolted to the door and actually reached it.

But the Reaper’s reflexes were fast, he pushed it shut before you could open it enough and trapped you between his body and the door.

Panicked, you hit him with your elbow and tried to turn around.

He shoved you with your front against the door, and even now he acted like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “Shhh… do not fight.”

You wished he wouldn’t feel you tremble, but he was too close not to.

Soran seemingly believed you could be persuaded. “I intend to keep you alive, to offer you an existence outside of locked doors, something the Church will not offer you. All I ask is that you surrender yourself to me.”

It was obvious what he wanted, he had made that very clear these past few days.

And you weren’t willing to have this bastard anywhere near you, let alone carrying his children and letting him have your body to use.

You struggled against his hold. “Go to hell!”

He gave a sneer, “Only the Fey are headed there.”

You gave your own back, “I will do one thing for the Dawn Folk. I will survive you.”

Some of his anger slipped out, he took hold of the back of your head and slammed your temple against the door. Hard.

Right afterwards, while tears began to brim in the corners of your eyes, he acted like it was your fault.

“Stop making me take these measures.” He warned and began to move your vest up.

The panic truly settled in when he touched your lower back and the waistband of your trousers.

No. No. No…

You used the strength of your wrists bound together to try and push back to no avail. “Get off of me!”

He coldly dismissed the protest. “It will not take long, stop struggling.”

It only made you struggle more and than a knife was near your eye.

The bastard threatened, “Remember, I do not need all of you. You do not need your eyes to use your magic or have children.”

Oh, you dearly wished that the knife was in your hands instead, you wouldn’t be threatening…

By trying to hold back tears, you wanted him to know that he wouldn’t break you. Not when his hand groped your chest and not when he tried to take off your trousers.

The fury that flared up inside of you was the thing that kept you from shattering.

He did not care when you began to quietly ask your gods to give you their strength.

Maybe he should have cared.

The voices of the Hidden filled the air and Soran all of a sudden stumbled backwards and away from you.

Their aggressive intervention came with the whisper of your title.

~“Summoner.”~

“What are you doing?!” He regained his footing fast but it was clear that he was in pain.

Was that… panic you saw in his eyes?

You had no idea what was happening or what the Hidden had done.

“Brothers!” He called out, the panic audible in his tone.

Two of them entered the room at his call, quite baffled to see their leader half-buckled over in pain.

“Soran-” One tried to speak.

Fury burned in the Reaper. “Take her back to her cell! Now!”

You heard the Reaper curse as they dragged you out of that room again.

The Hidden had kept their promise to you as a summoner. The ancient power of Festa and Moreii was their gift to your acceptance. And what better use for it than making the Reaper regret all he had done to you.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Hours passed in the cell again, and you were yet to see if it was true that Lancelot was alive. Where were they keeping him? Was there another part to the dungeon you had not seen yet? Or was it a lie the Reaper had told to pacify you?

You still felt his hands on your skin, and in the darkness of the cell you could let the tears flow.

Your shocked state, huddled up in the corner, did not alarm the Brothers who passed.

“They say our leader’s steel is damaged.” One whispered.

Steel?… Oh.

“Do you think… she did it?” The other wondered.

They looked in the direction of your cell with great suspicion.

Good. Let them fear.

The bastards were cruel enough to take the torch that provided little light and moved it to a holder on a wall further away.

Their footsteps rescinded and you heard them close the iron door that led to the stairs.

It was both frightening and comforting to be in the darkness alone. At least they left you alone there.

You leaned your head against the wall, hiding far at the end in a corner of the cell.

Another hour passed, then a Brother came over with a stale looking piece of bread.

“Got you something to eat, Fey.” He put it down on the floor, putting his arm between the bars to do so.

When you gave no response and didn’t even look, the Brother whistled.

His pathetic attempt at comforting could not hide the threat under it. “Come now. It will only get worse for you if you behave like this, Soran can do a lot worse than what he wants to do with you. Give him what he wants.”

You didn’t want to waste the little energy left in you on this bastard and continued to ignore his existence.

The Brother sighed. “Can’t say I didn’t warn ya. All you had to do was open your legs.”

It really made it hard to hold your tongue and not call him every horrible name you could think off.

Your eyes never left that strange dirty spot on the wall.

You heard him take a couple of steps away and past the cell, and then a loud thud, it made you jump a little

You looked and saw the Brother face down on the ground.

The steel of a blade had cut across his neck and send the Brother to the floor whilst he bled out rapidly.

The next thing you registered was a sword sinking down into his back and withdrawing from it.

You had not moved a muscle, like your body was frozen in place.

It was strange to know that you knew who stood in the shadows outside your cell just by the way he walked and moved.

The door of your cell was unlocked seconds later. Your mind was slow to process it all and slowly you rose to stand.

Lancelot stood in the doorway, like something had stopped him.

Even in the dark he could see enough of your face to know that you had been crying. Your eyes were haunting.

He spoke your name, gentle and with relief.

You couldn’t believe the miracle that stood before you.

This was the second time the Ash Man had opened the door to freedom for you, this time you were actually glad to see his face.

And only the heavens knew how it gave you a surge of energy strong enough to cross the small distance and breach the line that had once been.

You reached for his aketon and latched yourself onto him, feeling the warmth of his body and considering it a blessing after having it felt cold and lifeless.

Tears ran their path down your cheeks and unto his clothing. There were things you wished to say, but you couldn’t get a word out.

Never before had he felt arms hold him like this, another being willing to blend into him.

After the cold hold of death he had experienced, the warm hold of life was more than welcome.

The Ash Man’s response was delayed by only seconds, then his arms came around and brought you in closer.

No one had ever held you like this before, in an embrace that felt like it could protect you against the ocean’s strongest wave within a storm, with your head cradled in his hand while he vowed that you would have your freedom again.

You weren’t afraid to hold him tight, murmuring into his shoulder. “The Hidden brought you back to us.”

Lancelot couldn’t stop stroking the back of your head with his fingers. “You brought me back.”

It was your voice he remembered pleading for his life.

He explained how he freed himself, “That hairpin was useful indeed.”

With great reluctance you broke away and took the smallest step back, he took the moment to cut the ropes from your wrists.

You noticed the second sword at his side, “Found those?”

He handed it to you. “One for you. I ‘found’ keys as well.”

He found it all on the one that had been guarding the door to the cell they had kept him in. He could only try to pick the lock when the Brother guarding his cell was asleep. The man was snoring like a boar seconds before he died.

Next thing you knew, Lancelot was steering your chin to the side as his eyes focused on your face, “Did he do that?”

He could see the discoloring on your temple.

It took you a second to realize he must be seeing a bruise from when Soran had slammed your head against the door. “He…”

Your throat tightened like a cord had wrapped around it.

He feared the worst, hot white rage boiled in his veins, “What else did he do?”

“Nothing.” You didn’t know why you lied, maybe because it felt humiliating.

By steering your chin again, he made you look at him as he searched your eyes.

It was that that made you try to tell the truth. “He tried to… but the Hidden helped me.”

You didn’t need to say more, he understood what it had meant.

He cupped your neck, the burning fury carried his vow, “I am going to kill him.”

For now, all you wanted was to leave this place behind. “No. We need to get out of here.”

It was like his mind sprung into action seconds before he did. He took hold of your arm. “Stay close to me.”

You let him lead you out of the cell, it was easy to tell that he had some idea as to where he was going. “Where did they-”

He quickly hushed you before it would alert the enemy.

As you followed him, you had to step over the bodies of the Brothers that had crossed his path whilst he had made his way to your cell.

He plucked a torch from the wall and used it to set fire to the wooden pillars you passed.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered.

Lancelot continued to strategically set them alight. “Burning this fort will force them out and offer distraction.”

He steered you along, and away from the fire.

The keys he had taken from one of them were put to use on a door that lead into a narrow pathway, he locked it behind you. He wasn’t guiding you out of the dungeon the way the Brothers had been doing so.

The pathway ended with another door and opened to a dungeon where many rodents had their home.

It looked far worse than the one you had been kept in.

He shared a look, and while passing a cell he pointed to the dead Brother he had left inside of it.

They had kept him there…

You gave a look that told him you understood.

A vague sound came from the direction you had come from, then a loud bang was heard. They were trying to break through the doors that had been locked to keep the flames behind you.

“They know.” Lancelot said and urged you to follow.

He walked faster and led you to a narrow stairwell. You followed him up the steps, sensing he no longer knew where to head now.

He searched through the keys to find the one that would open the gate at the top of the steps and let the two of you out of the dungeon. He was visibly stressed.

You touched his arm, hoping it would calm him somewhat.

Lancelot took a deep breath and focused on the keys, finally finding the right one that unlocked the gate.

It was impossible to ignore how many times he had touched your arm now, as if he constantly feared that you would disappear from his side.

Oh, how things had changed. Once you had hated this, now if felt quite nice.

Past the gate it was a completely different world to be in. The fort was warmer than the dungeon below, but it was also swarming with members of the Brotherhood and you knew that any loud sound could cost you your freedom again or worse.

He wanted to turn to a hallway on the right but you stopped him, that one lead to the large stairs that they had dragged you up to bring you to that bedchamber.

You could see him take a deep breath through his nose.

If he could smell a breeze that would lead him the way to an exit…

Lancelot tilted his head, deciding to take the route ahead instead.

The urge to run out of there was strong, but it would make too much sound. The only thing you could do was walk faster than usual. A door was opened in the distance, Lancelot quickly opened one nearby and upon finding the room empty he moved you with him inside of it.

It was pitch dark inside, the only shimmer of light came from the torchlight passing under the door.

The both of you stood against it and listened.

A group didn’t walk by, they ran by. They must be on their way to the dungeons to find you and help their Brothers.

Lancelot waited a few seconds longer, than opened the door again.

The plan was to continue the path ahead, but there were so many voices coming from there that you pulled him into the direction you had come from.

He took the torches off the wall and set the large curtains in the hallway alight.

You pulled a curtain down and draped it on the floor across the width of the hallway, “Put the torch to it, it will give us time.”

Smart.

He set fire to the curtain on the floor, and then followed your lead.

You remembered a little from the path to that bedchamber, there had been two other stairwells, one that led up and one that led down.

The size of the stairs took up the width of the entire hallway. Such a big fort must have multiple exists, there had to be.

Once up the higher floor, you hurried to the stairwells that were right next to each other.

You were about to begin descending the ones leading down, when you heard voices coming from below.

Lancelot shared a look with you, you were already rushing over to the curtains and pulling one down while he took a torch again.

You let some of the curtain drape over the first few steps, than he put to torch to it.

The castle was already starting to smell of smoke, the old wooden floor would not survive for long.

Lancelot took you by the hand and pulled you up the stairwell that went a floor higher again. “I can smell the sea.”

That meant you were close to getting out of there…

At the top of the stairwell was a heavy wooden door and you could hear the sea at the other side of it.

None of the keys he had on hand worked and the two of you ended up having to use your swords to get the door to budge, then Lancelot put his shoulder against the door a couple of times and broke it down.

Heavy wind and rain almost pushed the door shut in your face again, luckily the Ash Man anticipated it and kept it open. He let you step outside first and you couldn’t care less that the rain was enough to soak through your clothes in minutes.

The rain mixed with the dried blood on Lancelot’s aketon and cloak. The moonlight was the only thing offering light, the sea around you would have appeared as a black abyss otherwise. You were at the top of the castle’s keep, fear had no place in you anymore when hearing the sound of the sea around you and the wind going through your clothes.

Fire was breaking through the windows in multiple places throughout the castle and it was spreading with aggression. For a moment you wondered if the flames were somehow connected to the one who had created them. If the Hidden made your healing magic stronger, who was to say that they did not make their summoner of the Ash Folk stronger as well?

Lancelot stood not far from you, his eyes fixed on the flames down below.

You faintly heard the Hidden, and deep down you knew that the flames were not just born from fire, but from fury as well.

While you were looking around to reach the alure of the castle walls, the heavy door Lancelot had shut behind him was kicked open.

The Reaper had managed to avoid the flames that had begun to fill the hallway where his bedchamber was located, by fleeing for his life he had chosen the same route you had taken.

The sword was already in Soran’s hand, still he seemed surprised to see you and Lancelot there.

Immediately, Lancelot stepped in front of you.

This bastard would have to crawl over his corpse before he would ever get to lay a hand on you again.

The Reaper watched the flames destroy his Brotherhood, then looked at the one responsible for it. “If Father Carden had seen this, he would have given the order for your execution himself.”

Lancelot fought back the response it caused in him and spoke to you over his shoulder, “Go. I’ll distract him.”

You weren’t going to leave his side again, especially not when he was facing the Reaper in battle. “No.”

There was a sword in your hand, you weren’t running from this.

Soran offered a chance to the Ash Man, “Hand her over and I will see past this.”

Lancelot scoffed, a wry smile formed. “I will not.”

The coldness in the Ash Man’s tone put ice to shame.

Soran took some steps closer. “I only offer, because I know how she will suffer once I kill you. Permanently, this time.”

Even now, he was trying to blackmail others into submission, while his fort was burning to the ground and none of his Brothers were there to aid him. The confidence the Reaper displayed worried you, he showed no fear.

Soran got closer, warning you of what it meant to fight him, “I have trained the strongest of men, the Trinity Guard’s skill is no match for the Brotherhood and neither is yours, Brother.”

“I am not your ‘Brother’!” Lancelot’s tone was sharp.

The Reaper spun the sword in his hand. “You’re right. You betrayed us and now you will suffer the consequences of it.”

Lancelot did not let Soran get closer and faced the inevitable battle head on.

You knew he was doing it to try and keep Soran at a distance from you. The Ash Man was walking to the blade to protect you from the monster that wielded it…

Lancelot was the first to lunge and saw Soran move skillfully to avoid the blade.

The Reaper was not the sort to fight fair, the knives he carried on him weren’t there for decoration, he drew one and tried to cut Lancelot’s arm with it.

It was anticipated by the Ash Man, he had seen him reach for it and punched Soran in the jaw after avoiding the knife.

He had to duck to avoid Soran’s sword cutting off his head, the bastard did manage to land a kick against his stomach that send him stumbling back.

You attacked the Reaper, aiming to disarm him.

Soran blocked your sword with his, but you took him off-guard by striking him across the face with your fist.

He hooked his sword with yours, forcing you closer and then he moved his elbow in a quick motion, it struck your jaw and nose.

Only a few ‘things’ of you were necessary to him, others could be damaged… he had been truthful about that.

That blow to the face landed you on the ground, leaving you disoriented for a moment.

Liquid ran over your lips and you realized blood was running down from your nose.

The fight was still going on and you pushed yourself to your feet, feeling some vertigo hit as you did.

Soran was trying to get Lancelot closer to the edge of the keep, undoubtedly to make him fall. He attacked Lancelot, using the sword as a distraction to aim the knife for the heart of the Ash Man again.

Lancelot was strong enough to grab Soran’s arm to prevent it, but the Reaper took solace with sinking the knife into his shoulder instead.

He gave Soran a push, who left the knife lodged where it was.

You saw Lancelot pull the knife out of his shoulder. The knife was worse enough, but you saw where he was standing.

You ran up to the Reaper, sensing what he was about to do.

That rotten filth had lunged at Lancelot with the sword, Lancelot blocked it with ease, but he could not defend himself against the second kick he got from the Reaper.

He lost his footing and stumbled backwards. As a last effort to save himself from falling down to the rocks below, Lancelot held on to the edge of the keep with his hands.

Dangling from the wall, he had little chance to pull himself up again, Soran was quick to go and step on his hand so it would let go.

You charged at Soran and slammed your body into his side to knock him over, when he hit the ground you reached for Lancelot’s arm to help.

You had only took hold of his arm for a few seconds when you were ripped away from him by the Reaper who pulled you away from the edge.

He clearly didn’t want to risk you falling to your death. “Stay away from the edge, you are still needed.”

You elbowed him in the side and broke free, only to be grabbed by him again.

He held on while you struggled against him. “I will let you watch how the Weeping Monk shatters his skull on the rocks below!”

The Reaper was determined in not letting you escape from his sight and steered you with him to where Lancelot was hanging on for dear life.

And then Soran saw that the Ash Man was no longer hanging on to the edge.

Soran had made the mistake of turning his back on Lancelot, his priority should have been with him, not you.

You knew that there wasn’t enough time for you to pull Lancelot to safety, but what you could do was touch his arm and heal his injuries, making him strong enough again to save himself.

Then all that need to be done was distract the Reaper to buy him time. To move in Soran’s grasp so he would not be facing the edge.

Soran must have thought Lancelot had fallen, because it took him three counts before the truth of the matter set in and he realized he had been tricked.

Lancelot’s sword came down on Soran’s arm, and severed his lower arm from his elbow.

It fell to the ground at your feet and you instantly felt the hold on you disappear.

You broke free and created a distance.

The sight of the severed arm did shake your stomach a bit.

Without a sword, and horribly wounded, Soran was powerless when Lancelot stabbed him through the heart.

Lancelot twisted the blade and then withdrew it.

The blood mixed with the rain and it made for a gruesome sight.

Soran fell down next to his arm, and his dying breaths told you that he was choking on his own blood.

The silence that soon followed felt strange. You never thought you would be looking down at the Reaper’s corpse one day.

Lancelot stopped in front of you and wrapped a hand around your upper arm, then he moved closer, “Are you hurt?”

You could only shake your head, to lost for words by what had transpired.

Something on the ground reflected in the moonlight.

Soran’s ring…

“That ring… if we show it to the Fey…” You offered him the idea.

With the ring, they would be more inclined to believe him when he would tell them he had killed the Reaper.

Lancelot went over to retrieve the ring from the severed arm, while focusing his thoughts on something else and not on the fact that he was stealing from the dead.

He pocketed the ring and came back to you. “We need to go.”

You agreed with him on that and together you made your way over to the alure of the castle walls in search of a safe way down to ground. From the direction you were heading into, shouts were heard. You shared a look with Lancelot, knowing that the way back only led to fire.

He knew what had do be done to survive, “We have to jump.”

It was a long fall down into the sea and you weren’t keen on that plan at all, “Are you bloody mad?!”

Lancelot sheathed his sword, took you by the arm and steered you to the edge of the wall in between the battlements. “We jump or we die.”

Even his own faith in the plan seemed to falter for a blink when looking down at the sea that was only illuminated by the full moon.

The voices sounded closer, this had to be done.

“Dammit…” You cursed and sheathed your sword too. “You first?”

Lancelot managed to grin. “You lead, I follow.”

Oh, so now he had no problem with someone else taking charge.

“You’d better.” You warned and stepped to the edge.

It took a lot of your courage to make the jump into the depths below.

The fall went faster than you had anticipated and you hit the water, you swam to the surface right away.

Just as you reached the surface, the Ash Man hit the water on your right.

It were a couple of worrisome seconds until he came above the water as well.

Together you swam to shore and were grateful that the sea was calm compared to the rain and wind.

You crawled unto the sand, tired from the healing and the swim.

Even Lancelot struggled to get to his feet, when he did he looked back and saw the castle burning like the sun in the night sky.

You looked as well, seeing the flames claim all of the fort without mercy.

A deep sigh of relief left you, and for a moment all you focused on was the water moving around your body whilst laying in the sand.

A castle burning in the midst of night was sure to draw attention.

There was no time to rest. Some of the Brotherhood would escape the flames.

Lancelot held out a hand for you to take. “We have to leave this place. Others will see the flames from afar.”

You sighed and let him help you up, vertigo set in again and you had to lean into his side to keep yourself steady.

He did not complain, your magic had been what saved him, “Can you still walk?”

“Depends on how far we are talking about.” You admitted, “Did they take Goliath when they took you?”

He shook his head. “I send him away before they could try to take him too.”

In other words, you had no horse.

Lancelot didn’t let the newfound hope escape. “There have to be horses nearby. They brought us here on wagons…”

“Use your nose?” You made the suggestion.

He deadpanned. “Hard to smell anything besides the ashes in the air.”

Still, he tried to inhale deep and slow a couple of times.

After coughing the scent of smoke out of his lungs, he said, “I can smell a stable.”

“You can smell the wood and horses?” You frowned while letting him help you walk.

An actual chuckle fell from him, light as air, “I can smell the manure, and now with the rain the scent is strong.”

Gods, and you had even asked him to smell it…

The small laugh escaping you felt wonderful. “Lovely.”

His chuckling increased until he composed himself. He helped you walk over the rocks that had washed ashore over time. All of a sudden he stopped you and turned you to look at him, before you could question it, he made you tilt your head backwards to inspect the damage to your nose.

“I wish I could heal you.” He stated and let go, something akin of remorse was in his eyes.

You wouldn’t hear it, he had done more than enough. “I will live. Don’t you worry about me, Ash Man.”

It was one of the few things he could not do.

The sound of horses neighing reached your ears, they must have noticed the fire too. Lancelot helped you walk towards the sound until the vertigo you felt lessened. The sight of the burning fort against the dark sky and between the rain and wind was imposing.

You found the stables at the beginning of the stone pathway that had led to the fort. A wagon with horse stood outside of it and you left Lancelot’s side to go to the poor animal waiting for it’s rider alone.

Lancelot walked by and went into the stables. “Call out if you see or hear anything.”

You gave a nod, and saw how the horse was clearly glad to see someone.

He had left the door of the stables open, a few horses suddenly darted out and headed for the woods. You looked and saw that there were still other horses inside of the stables and that the Ash Man was cutting their reins loose. He was freeing them. Once he was done, Lancelot came out of the stables and joined you by the wagon.

This wagon equipped with a bonnet would be very useful, especially in this weather.

“We are taking the wagon?” You guessed his plan.

He gave a nod, “I’ll ride.” And steered you to the back of the wagon. “Up you go. Careful.”

You almost envied how energetic he was from the healing he had received from you twice, because you barely managed to get yourself up on the wagon, it took two attempts.

On the second attempt, he offered his shoulder for you to use and supported your elbow with one hand while using his other to make sure you didn’t fall.

And that was where it got him into trouble…

His hand was on your back until you were halfway up the wagon. And his attention had been on getting you safely onto the wagon, not on where his hand landed next.

When you felt it touch your rear, you were on that wagon in a blink.

The last thing he wanted was to make you think it was on purpose, that he would use the situation to…

He quickly began to apologize, “Forgive me, I did not mean to-”

You stopped him. “I know.”

The experience with the Reaper was still fresh on your mind, and you could not hide the look in your eyes from the Ash Man. Your mind had went back to the moment, and it took you a few seconds to feel Lancelot’s eyes on your face.

Not a word was shared when you looked at him, he knew…

With some reluctance, he stepped away from the back of the wagon and headed to the front.

You saw him climb up into the seat and take the reins, “Have you ever rode a wagon before?”

No…

“Do not worry.” He eased your mind while trying to sound confident.

He would do the worrying on his own.

Luckily, some of the wagon’s bonnet covered him from the rain as well.

And by the answer, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten @the-great-adventures-of-me @linkpk88 @fxrchxldws @elenaoftheturks @slytherlight @beananacake @crystallizedtime @moonlightaura03 @angrygardendeer @have-aheart @5am-cigarette @arcanenature @thewinterskywalker @notyourwildestdream @coloursforyourportrait @koressecretidentity @nike90 @n1ghtlux @rachlovesactors @luckyzipperscissorsbat @morena-doing-stuff @the-fangirl-diaries @gipsydanger17 @heavenly1927 @phantasmalbeiing @labyrinthonmymind @asarcastic-thiamstan @rainyv-skies @kissingandromeda @stclairesplace @katjusja @isla-bell-blog @beebeerockknot

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

#the weeping monk #lancelot #weeping monk #cursed netflix #weeping monk x reader #cursed #lancelot x reader #weeping monk x you #cursed lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #daniel sharman character #daniel sharman

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redeyerhaenyra · 1 year ago

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♡= Fluff ♤= Angst ◇= Smut ☆= Author's fave

♧ = Dark fic!!!

¤= Oneshot ■= Finished series □= Ongoing series

Micolash

-No words needed; In which Micolash breaks into your room to fuck you, 1.2k, ♡◇¤

Alfred

-But I need you! ; You find Alfred about to end his life after killing Queen Annalise, and you stop him, 1.1k, ♡♤■

-Then, have me! ; Smutty sequel to "But I need you!", 1.1k, ♡◇■

Annalise

-Annalise NSFW headcanons; ◇¤

To be added...

Jake Lockley

-Jake with a curvy reader; ◇¤

-Aint no sunshine when she's gone; It's been a month since you've broken up with the moon knight system, and you start to notice someone.. watching you, ♧■☆

Steven Grant

-Sleeping Beauty; After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven, 1.9k, ♡◇¤

-Accidents never happen; In which you accidentally call Steven Daddy... but he's into it, 1.5k, ♡◇¤

-Steven's been bad...; Steven's been a bad boy. You punish him. And then take care of him afterwards, 2.5k, ♡◇¤

-Dom!Steven and Bimbo!reader headcanons; You're a bimbo, but you're not inexperienced. Steven Grant is an obvious sub... right? ◇¤

Marc Spector

-Truly, Madly, Deeply; Marc goes all out when you tell him you're a virgin, 847, ♡◇¤

The System

-It's not warm when she's away; A part 2 continuation to this fic, what is life like with your three kidnapper exes? ♧■

To be added...

Konïg

-Konïg discovering his size kink; ◇¤

Simon Riley

-Simon treating reader like glass; ♡◇¤

-Divine Hammer; You bring up something new to Simon. He's more enthusiastic than you expected, ◇¤☆, 2.5k

Johnny Mactavish

-Imagine being a porn couple with Soap;◇¤

Kyle Garrick

-Relationship headcanons; Some sfw and nsfw headcanons for Gaz!!! ♡◇¤

T141

-What sex toys would t141 use? ◇¤

-NSFW visuals ;◇

Aemond Targaryen

-Killing in the name; Aemond unleashes his grief upon you in bed, 417, ♧♤◇¤

OC's

-The Lady and The Princess; After being summoned to the Capitol with her Father, Cordelia wanders the halls of The Red Keep. The Princess walks past her, 551, ¤

Jacob Holland

-NSFW Headcanons; ♡◇¤

Blue Jones

-Blue with a curvy reader; ◇¤

-Blue and his favourite doll; ◇¤

-Eye of the beholder; Blue doesn't like sharing his toys. But he's not opposed to other people watching him play, 1.5k, ♡◇¤

-Pretty Boy; Blue doesn't take kindly to Basil talking down to himself- birthday present for @ominoose! ◇¤

-Fluffy Blue; ♡¤

-Author's favourite Blue headcanons; ♡◇¤

-For what it's worth; Blue shoots a guy in front of you, but he makes it up to you, ♡♤¤

-Blue Jones with a tall!reader; ♡¤

Basil Stitt

-Basil with a curvy reader; ◇¤☆

-Perv!Neighbour Basil finds your camgirl account; ◇¤

-Pretty Boy; Blue doesn't take kindly to Basil talking down to himself- birthday present for @ominoose! ◇¤

Kane

-Something's wrong with Kane; Your husband returns after 14 months MIA, but he's not entirely himself, 629, ♡◇¤♤☆

-How Kane re-falls in love with you; ♡¤

-Kiss me, Son of God!; He isn't the same, but he's yours. In which, Kane has the overwhelming alien need to breed, but it turns emotional, 474, ♡◇¤

Prince John

-Bondage in the hearts of men; After a night of drinking, you accuse John of being unfaithful, and punish him, 1.1k, ◇¤

Anselm Vogelweide

-Anselm with a Daddy Kink; Some headcanons of the consequences you face after Anselm finds out you have a Daddy Kink, ◇¤

-Oh, it isn't so bad; After weeks of not touching you, Anselm finally breaks, ◇¤

-Anselm overstimulating you, feat!breeding kink; ◇¤

-Brat-tamer Anselm; ◇¤

-This Magic Moment; Imagine being in comfiest bed with Anselm, and also having the wildest sex, ◇♡¤

#m.list #masterlist

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arece · 1 year ago

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The Way Things Go

♤ Summary: You begin to forget. The storyline

♤ a/n: This isn't a request, I'm just feeling angsty. Who still gets covid in 2023? I do and I'm sorry. (1.9k)

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John’s home being burnt down left you very little, and not of monetary value. No, instead it gave you nothing that was explicitly his. You had the coin but that only brought you comfort for so long.

You were having one of your off days, something that became a frequent part of your life since his passing. Curled up on the couch, covered in your softest blanket and Dog, you watched the rain patter against your window.

Your phone vibrated with another call, most likely from Winston. You continued to ignore it, letting him reach your voicemail. Days like these were not good for speaking with him, you could never tell if it would end with you snapping or hysterically sobbing.

Your relationship with the man has never quite recovered. You found the only way to stop unconsciously blaming yourself was to hold it against him, and he was willing to let you resent him if it meant you were no longer your own enemy.

It was hard not to blame someone, if you let it go what of him did you have to hold onto? You were fiddling with the coin, silently pleading with yourself to let it be enough but it wasn’t.

The first to leave you was the way he spoke, afterall he did it so little. Imagining how he said your name, it never managed to sound quite right. It hurt the most when you couldn’t even fathom how he called you kid. The way the letters were pronounced was always wrong.

Then it was how he smelt, something you could no longer even describe - all you could remember was it made you feel serene, smelt of home and safety. Things you weren't even aware you knew until you began to forget it all.

Your breaking point was his face. You would try to picture his face and it started to blur. No matter how hard you focused, how tightly you squeezed your eyes shut, he never came back into focus. You had no pictures for reference, no clothes, nothing to spare yourself from forgetting it all.

You could feel yourself become lost in grief, it felt like the first night of his death all over again. You were alone, without him there. You were alone for two years when he left you but then at least you knew he was out there, somewhere. Alive.

A knock sounded at your door, it seems it had been happening for a while and you missed it in your contemplation. You could hear your door opening, you didn’t bother to lock it, you didn’t have anyone to worry over your safety anymore.

“You’ve been missing for four days,” Winston slowly kneeled into your field of vision by the side of the couch. Has it really been four days? Time usually slowed down while you were missing him. Hours ticking away agonizingly slow as you waited for the painful episode to end. Maybe it was fast because you were welcoming the ache, it was all you had left of him now.

“I’m tired, Winston,” you whispered, nearly taking all your effort to do so. You couldn’t sleep, closing your eyes only served to remind you how you can’t see him. The episodes always hit the hardest after your good days, you always want him when you finally manage to feel fine.

I know, my dear.” He brushed your hair back gently, the gesture reminding you of John and bringing tears to your eyes. “I’m beginning to forget.” A tear slipped out and Winston rubbed it away, “what are you forgetting?”

“I can’t remember anymore, I can't see him. I can’t speak about it because how do you talk about a ghost?” You could feel yourself becoming more worked up, voice slightly cracking and a lump growing in your throat making it harder for you to speak. “He’s always there but it feels like a cruel trick. I’m losing him all over again.”

Your breathing grew labored and Winston pulled you down from the couch into his arms as you began to cry. “I think it’s time for you to go back,” he softly whispered once you started to calm down. You slowly pushed yourself from his arms, uncomfortable with anyone but him giving you affection. “Back where?”

“To the Ruska Roma.” You felt yourself becoming irrationally angry at the mention of John’s other family, his real family, the one he purposely kept separate from you. “I don’t belong there, he made that clear enough,” you couldn’t help but let your ugly bitterness show.

Winston began to stand, giving Dog a pat on the head before making his way to the door, “well, I believe it holds all the answers you need.” You lifted yourself from the floor, glaring at him in a childish protest. He smiled softly to himself, you were hurt but you would be fine.

“Have I ever told you I hate how cryptic you can be?” He opened the door, laughing. He really did hope you’d go, it’d be healing in a way you’ve been needing for a while now, a way he couldn’t do with the barrier between you two. “Multiple times, dear.”

As soon as the door shut you felt the smile drop from your face, the temporary distraction wasn’t enough to erase your grief. You brushed your thumb over the shining coin, you took care of it, never letting even a speck of dust taint it.

It’s not like they’d even welcome you if you went, did they even know you exist? Probably, word spreads fast when it comes to things that pertain to the Baba Yaga. You weren’t sure if you could handle any negative reaction you’d get from the people John considered family, but Winston thought it would help and you were growing desperate.

***

Your hands shook as you entered the once familiar church. You nearly felt sick when you could remember a blurry John getting dragged out. Just when you began to second guess yourself, turning to leave, a voice called out to you, “come on in, child. We’ve been waiting for you.”

The priest gestured for you to come and you slightly hesitated. As you made your way over, you could feel others staring you down. It made you want to leave, them waiting for you could also be a bad thing. Once you got to the altar the priest touched your forehead, it took everything in you not to flinch back at the contact.

He hummed, looking at your expression before muttering to himself, “the exact same.” Before you could question him a woman accompanied by a few men came in from the back. “Ah, so she shows her face! Something he was never good at.”

You were confused, stepping back as she rapidly approached you. “He did not speak of me? Figures, man of not many words, too busy running away from everything.” She slapped your back harshly in greeting, laughing when you swatted her arm from you.

A man with graying hair, face covered in tattoos and piercings stared into your soul, “I am Klaus.” You were unable to hold back your baffled look, this exchange the furthest thing from what you were expecting. “(y/n),” you responded slowly.

“Imagine my surprise finding out I am an Aunt, let alone when it’s at his last visit before his death.” You wince, looking to the floor at her blunt mention of his death, something you're struggling to acknowledge is real, let alone saying out loud. She grows apologetic, sympathy showing in her expression.

“I am Katia. Come now, I’ll show you to the family.” She reaches to grab you by your arm but you quickly pull away, fumbling at her bewildered expression, “he didn’t- I’m not actually his daughter.” Your voice cracked at the admittance.

But Katia simply scoffed, throwing her hand up in exasperation, “and I’m not actually his sister. Blood does not make family, love does. He loved you, did he not?” You didn’t even hesitate with nodding, although he made mistakes you don’t doubt the love John held for you. “Then you were his daughter and you are my niece.”

After showing you off to hundreds of people she brought you to a small corridor, stopping you at the entrance. “I think this is what you’re really here for.” She opened the door allowing you in but not following after.

You watched as she closed the door but froze when you turned around, breath stuttering. There on the wall was a portrait of John, he was younger but it was him. The wave of emotions that hit you were harsher than you expected, quickly blinking back the tears before they could obscure your sight of him.

As you sat on the bench you couldn’t help but cry at the emotion you felt at your core - relief. Relief that you could see him again, the slope of his nose, the angle of his jaw, his eyes. You had a piece of him back.

You found yourself staying at the Ruska Roma longer than you expected, practically living in the room. You would stay there for hours, just staring, memorizing. You feared that as soon as you left you’d blink and forget it all over again. It probably wasn’t the healthiest, but it was what you needed.

On the fourth day the door finally opened, Katia slowly sitting beside you, also looking at the portrait. You only look away to see what she had placed on your lap.

“It was his before he left.” You lift the jacket to your face, breathing in the scent you swore was there. Maybe it was your own delusion but you swore you could recognize the comforting smell, even if it was many years old.

Placing your cheek against the fabric reminded you of his hugs, feeling the phantom squeeze of when he’d hold you tightly to him. “You remind me of both of us.” You opened your eyes, seeing that her stare was locked on the painting.

“I resented him for leaving me behind. I see that anger in you,” when she faced you, the sadness in her eyes was reflected in your own. She softly held your cheek in her hand, brushing her thumb under your eye, wiping away any potential tears.

“I didn’t doubt you were his for a second when you arrived. That same confident, stoic demeanor.” You laughed with her, watching as she blinked away her own tears. “You even do that little furrow he did.” She moves her hand to poke at the space in between your eyebrows.

“I’m beginning to forget him. I can’t leave him behind, not again.” Katia grabs the jacket from you, moving to throw it over your shoulders. “You are a part of him, he lives on through you,” she stood from the bench. “Each time you breathe, that’s you remembering a part of him. The most important part.”

You held the jacket tighter to yourself as she stood beside his portrait. “I won’t make you leave but I will help you move on. I will not let you freeze in your grief, he would have never allowed it.”

“What do you mean?” Katia scoffed, rolling her eyes at the portrait as if it was actually John, “he may have not told you about us, but he spoke of you. He ensured that you’d have a lot of people looking after you, consider yourself the most protected person in the world.”

The pain in your chest grew tenfold, you had always thought he kept you hidden, a buried burden he’d rather not acknowledge. This entire time he tried to keep you separate from the underworld while at the same time making sure if you did get dragged back in you would be protected.

“He was never one for family, but he played the father role naturally.”

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taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @tamnight @hesvoid34 @scarletmeii @romanreignsluver1 @wi1steria @not-a-big-slay @howlerwolfmax @mizzy-pop @sarapaprikas-blog @angrykitsune01

#john wick father figure #platonic #john wick #john wick x fem!reader #john wick x you #john wick x reader #fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #fem reader #arece drabbles #john wick one shot #john wick imagine #keanu reeves #keanu reeves one shot #keanu reeves imagine #john wick chapter 4 #john wick spoilers #john wick 4

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louislovesdilfs · 1 year ago

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Homesick (part 3)

I'm sorry if this is shorter than the others or at least I think it's shorter I really have no idea. it's worth it tho, I think. From the next I will go episode by episode maybe skip a few to add something like this but I will mostly follow the show. I loved the 60th special, Donna will always be my favourite;)

source: r/gallifrey (on reddit) it's a debate started by @/AnticitizenPrime, It's a great theory but I suggest you to check it out if you want after reading this.

◇ I don't necessarily believe the theories I use to write this fic are canon, they just inspired me to work on this. Do NOT take them as canon. treat theories ans headcanons as such.

♤ sorry for the mistakes, english is not my first language.

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"Y/n didn't want to leave, he was watching a Christmas romcom with my mother" Rose jokes getting in the TARDIS, Y/n is behinds her and enters closing the door,

"I was waiting for them to kiss!" he says but realise it only makes his situation worse,

Rose chuckles pinching Y/n's cheek "ohh an hopeless romantic!" she teases him, Y/n can't respond to that, it is true, so he just moves on getting near the console, he feels like he understands the commands and how to guide the TARDIS, he does want to try but is almost afraid of doing so,

"can we stop by my house?" he asks looking at the hoodie he's been wearing for...well from the begging, not gonna lie it is a nice 'NASA' hoodie but it won't be as nice when it starts to stink.

"sure do, just not for too long" The Doctor answers turning to him with tiny grin, Rose tho realises something, she turns to Y/n clearly wanting to ask him something,

"when did The Doctor take you?" she asks, Y/n was there before her, she figured not too long before since the two men didn't knew eachother that well, she sees Y/n is not from her time, he doesn't fit in at all.

"uh 2023, november 21st, I believe" he says not totally sure about the date,

"2023? is that a good year?" she asks slightly curious

"uh, well..." he mumbles hesitating, it's not bad like 2020 still there are wars... but that's a detail he decided to keep for himself.

The TARDIS lands in the same alley it first appears, Y/n gets out feeling sick. Ugh this place, he just wants to pack some clothes and go off again but the other two have other plans that he doesn't know about yet.

He walks not really waiting for The Doctor and Rose who try to keep up with him, he frantically searches for the keys to his house, as soon as they turn the corner a fancy mansion is waiting for them, The Doctor and Rose look at Y/n surprised as he opens the big black gates which reveal the wide path with a green garden on the sides, it looks so expensive but well tooken care of.

"well you didn't mention you were rich" Rose walks fast reaching Y/n who shakes his head

"I'm not, my parents were. This is a family mansion, my great-great grandfather bought it, then my great grandfather passed it to my grandad and he passed it to my dad, when my dad died I inherited all; My sister life assurance, my mother life assurance, and last my dad's. This money come from loss and grief. How could I ever define myself rich?" it is a rhetorical question, he doesn't want an answer and Rose will surely not give him one, she looks at The Doctor who has not look away from the young man for one second, he is clearly thinking about what Y/n just said and maybe he's wondering something else too, too many coincidence happened after the regeneration, The Doctor doesn't want to address them yet and neither does Y/n but sooner or later they will have to, willingly or not, Rose will make sure of that.

They enter the mansion greeted by giant stairs not too far from the big front door, the inside aren't as old as the house looks from the outside, they actually look both aged and modern, it's a style that suits the place but not really Y/n's appearance.

"not bad, not bad at all" The Doctor speaks his mind looking at the place.

"not at all" Rose agrees scanning every angle of the entrance with her eyes.

"my house is your house...I guess.." Y/n shrugs telling them to do whatever they want. He sighs going upstairs with his hands in his pockets, for how much he hates this place is good to be at home.

Y/n sits on his bed, looking at his room, it's been the same since he was 14, same posters, stickers on the windows...Even the 'I want to believe' poster on the wall near his bed, he always loved space, all the drawings and pictures in his rooms make it clear, it's funny how now he is travelling in time and space like it's a short day trip, it almost makes him chuckle.

A knock on the door makes him quickly turn his head to see The Doctor leaning against the door frame, his eyes lightened as he looked at The Doctor.

"can I come in?" he asks putting his hands in his brown suit pockets, he took off his coat and left it somewhere in the house probably, The Doctor enters as Y/n nods him to come in, he looks around the space themed room amused by it.

"X-files, great show." The Doctor comments looking at the poster on the wall, and Y/n chuckles

"shame you're not a little green man," Y/n chuckles tilting his head and The Doctor almost smirks at the young man's little gesture, The Doctor always seems to appreciate the little tilt Y/n does but still scoffs at his comment

"last time I checked you were monkeys" he shors back and Y/n squints his eyes at him

"oh shut it you face changer" he says and The Doctor smirk sitting on Y/n's bed next to him.

"big place you have here" he says changing the subject, Y/n's face darkens a little

"empty tho" he points out looking up at the ceiling, there are little stars that glow in the dark attached to it, The Doctor notices them too before Y/n speaks breaking the silence

"you have a big place too" he points out, he then falls with his back on the bed, his hands resting on his chest for a split of a second before he quickly rests them on the sides of his body.

"not that empty anymore" The Doctor follows him with a smirk slowly reaching for the young man's hand, a little touch before fully holding it. Y/n chuckles turning his face to the man next to him, he gently rubs his knuckles, is a cute little moment between them, Y/n feels something in his stomach he never really felt before, or maybe he's just hungry.

"you know what happened to me before you regenerate" Y/n suddenly says, he didn't want to but he knew it was something to be said sooner or later.

"yep" The Doctor says popping the p, his mood dropped slightly but his hand is still holding Y/n's a little tighter,

"I lead 10 people to death, I didn't save them, I saved myself" he admits, his voice slightly broken

"that's what you were supposed to do, I couldn't bare the thought of loosing you Y/n." The Doctor reveals looking directly in the young man's eyes, he knows that comment is selfish, but it's the truth, he wants to know more about Y/n, about who he is or what he become.

"I fell in a time vortex" he realises ignoring The Doctor's comment, "I felt my body wither and die or age back to when I was born, my body shredded with the time winds I-" he stops biting his tongue before continuing "I touched every point in history, I'm there as I'm speaking, my head, it is filled with information I shouldn't have, it hurts." he lets out not noticing the tears running down his cheeks

"I can take it away" The Doctor says reaching the man's cheek with his free hand, he brushes his cheek wiping away a tear.

"don't you dare" Y/n says firmly, he can stand the pain, he wants that knowledge.

"what am I? am I like you now? will I regenerate? can I die at all? It's like a tango in my chest!" Y/n asks many questions as his mind runs in the thousands of possibilities.

"there was a legend in my planet, about the Timelords origin, someone says we are nothing but evolved humans, it's not proved, but you Y/n, you might have evolved in something closer." The Doctor brushes Y/n's hair away from his face, the room go darker and the stars on the ceiling started to glow, Y/n smiles and a light shaped as a star appeared on his face, this sight made The Doctor's hearts almost melt as well as Y/n's. They look at eachother and right there The Doctor thinks he found someone who will stay. They share a kiss, not stolen, not meaningless, not rushed; it's sweet, waited, slow, they both take their time, they then part they're silent for a second before Y/n breaks it.

"I want to drive the TARDIS with you" Y/n says not really asking more like demanding it. The Doctor laughs

"that's a lovely idea" he says trying to hide his excitement but failing miserably.

They both go down stairs after Y/n showered and packed most of his clothes. Rose is stealing Y/n's cereals wondering around the house eating loudly before stopping in the study.

"Is that your dad's study?" She asks taking a bite

"umh yea, he actually died in there, couldn't bare the loss of mom shortly after my sister. Couldn't keep the family going, what a pathetic little man." Y/n says not really interested in what's he's saying, he doesn't like his father, he was never at home, and when he was he was locked in his study till night time.

Rose closes the door feeling chills as she looks at the chair where he died. They then go in the living room and Y/n lights up a cigarette opening one of the windows.

"you know, all the men in my family died here, my great-great grandfather passed away in his sleep, my great grandfather died after a bee attacked him in the garden, my grandad was found dead in the library and my father in his study, both died of heart attack." he admits breathing the smoke in and out, it's been a while since the last cigarette, he needs it.

"let's hope you won't carry on that tradition." Rose mumbles a bit unsettled by this information

"let's go shall we?" The Doctor says looking at both of his companions.

They leave the masion getting in the TARDIS leaving the bags with his clothes in his room, it's smaller than the one in the mansion but still pretty, he got the stars on the ceiling of his own room to attach them in this one, and the 'I Want To Believe' poster of course.

As he goes back in the main room The Doctor is patiently waiting for him near the console with a wide grin on his face. Y/n smiles at the man rushing to the console while Rose is on the phone with her mother, Y/n doesn't know what they're talking about but it's clearly something Rose doesn't care about.

The Doctor carefully explains how the comands work and what they are for, Y/n already knows something, watching The Doctor driving helped him even if he never really watched the control as much as he watched The Doctor.

The man looks at Y/n starting to drive the TARDIS "watch closely if you want to learn" Y/n smirks tilting his head slightly which makes The Doctor quickly look away.

"I'm watching" he says in a casually flirty tone to which The Doctor responds with a glance

#10th doctor #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who x male reader #doctor who x y/n #tenth doctor x male reader #x reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #tenth doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you

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clov3sr · 2 years ago

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Uno, Out | Jude Bellingham

♡ — pairing(s): Jude Bellingham x reader

♢ — author annotations: hi my name is clov3 there's a global demand for pretty football boy fanfics and I write here look at me writings hehe

♤ — c/t w(s): none <3

♧ — synopsis: Your best friend Jude accidentally ends your hangout with a love confession.

♫ — music inspo.: JUST FRIENDS BY AUDREY MIKA

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:11 ───ㅇ───── 2:48

GIF by avenirdelight

"Grow the hell up, Bellingham."

"I'm just saying that's not a legit UNO rule, and I think you know that."

"What I know?" You pause, dramatic as always. Jude misses that flair when he's away. "Is that as newly delegated UNO champion I can't understand your peasant ramblings? What are you saying right now, Ju?"

He doesn't have to look to know the stupid grin you're wearing, but he does anyway and bites his own bottom lip so as not to smile himself. You've just finished tidying the game and snacks up, and his blanket you'd for years claimed as yours had been folded and discarded on your loveseat. He almost forgets what he's looking for, but seeing his shoes in the corner of his vision jogs his memory.

"Man," he exhales, one hand on the wall steadying himself as he lazily shoves his feet into his shoes. In the corner nearest the door is a pair of his slippers that you keep around for him, should he need or want them. "It was just one game."

"Don't care. You got dethroned."

You've approached the entryway now, hands defiantly on your hips. Your head is tilted upwards, partly because Jude is tall and partly a consequence of your ballooned ego. Jude wants to bask in your amusement for much, much longer, too much longer than appropriate for just friends, but yet another notification from the team group chat reminds him that he really can't stay.

He yearns to stay with you.

He could bring up how he'd won the three games beforehand, but the moment is gone now, and he opts to just shake his head.

"Don't die, okay?" You huff, and he gives one last glance that he pleads with every God out there that it isn't full of too much longing for you. He knows what you're asking.

"I'll text you."

You only hum in response. It's been a couple of months now, that every time he leaves you, he wants to pepper your face with kisses and assure you that he can't wait to return. He wants to come home to your signature scent, an airy contrast to the usual smell of cut grass and athletic equipment. He imagines you drowning in one of his shirts, that perfect, stupid, contagious grin to comfort him about leaving.

"Bye, Jude,"

You say something, and he hears it, but the words don't quite penetrate his brain. You're probably saying bye. Your voice is like a song he'll never be able to overplay, a saccharine syrup he will never get tired of swimming in. Jude imagines you embracing him fondly right before he walks out the door. He envisions making sure you know, always,

"Bye, y/n, I love you."

"What?"

Fuck.

His subtle smile drops. He's already got one foot out the door, he's already got his lanyard in one hand ready to fish out the car keys, the other in the middle of closing the door behind him. He can't see your face.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The door is closed. He swears he hears a confused call of his name, followed by another confused "what?" but if he did, it was too muffled by the very shut front door for him to be sure. He's already in the motion of casually strolling toward his car.

Fuck? Fuck.

He could cry right now, but he's too dumbfounded, and before the grief can reach a resulting action, he's starting the car.

No, it's sinking in now.

In his peripheral he sees your front door fly back open. You're running out to his car, no shoes on. He's complained to you about that before -- you could step on something sharp. Before he can decide what to do, you've nearly fallen face-first into the driver-side window while halting to a stop, swinging open his car door. Your eyes are wide as you balance one hand on your bare knee, the other holding the door open.

"I love you too!"

♢ — author postnote (s): gym equipment has that goddamn smell bro ik you know what im talking about shit. like its got me heated rn is there a word for that smell. also this app sucks how many times do I have to post this

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #football oneshot #footballer x you #pablo gavi #reader insert #x reader #fluff #jude bellingham fluff #confession #friends to lovers #jude bellingham one shot #oneshot #x you #gender neutral reader #at least i dont think i implied a gender here so please lmk if you find otherwise

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sageandred · 2 days ago

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D o n' t l o o k a t m e .

Rafebarry Imagines ♤♧♡♧♤

Rafe taking his anger out on Barry for snitching on him last season

Rafe enlisting Barry's help to steal the kook money from Sarah (confirmed non-canon)

Rafe talking about his dad and breaking down like a sad, mentally ill boy the way he does

Rafe dating Sofia and realizing his attraction to Barry

Barry getting kind of jealous of Sofia

Sofia screwing over Rafe in a plot for the money she never grew up having

Rafe and Barry fooling around once on a whim and shoving it away to deny their feelings

Rafe crying on Barry's doorstep (again), because pressure and grief is getting to him

#i've never been so delusional about a non-canon ship like this #it ain't happening #rafe cameron #barry obx #rafe x barry #rafebarry #let me get the vision off my chest to recoup #outer banks #obx #drafts

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shmowder · 4 months ago

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Secret warehouses with unsecure wifi connections what could go wrong

#♧memes #♧Artemy #♧Grief #♧Rubin #Pathologic #memes #bad grief #stanislav rubin #Artemy Burakh

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mikobeautifulheart · 8 months ago

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☆Master list☆

--->There is NO smut btw just some suggestive. (or not yet)

Rules and about me here

♧Megumi♧

Drunk Megumi's over due confession

Synopsis: Megumi gets unknowingly drunk on his birthday and spills a secret.

Yuji's little sister

Synopsis: You join Jujutsu high with your older brother yuji, meeting Megumi as well.

The same.

Synopsis: Yuji dies and the weight falls on your shoulders, the only way you thought to take it of was but hurting yourself.

Crying over Megumi

Synopsis: Megumi find you in your dorm after your mission avoiding him.

Pervy Megumi (Thoughts)

Synopsis: Not a fic more just like general ideas of him.

When he finds out you harm yourself

Synopsis: Usually you don't get into much danger when you harm yourself, but his time Megumi found you.

MEGUMI SERIES

Synopsis: Gojo watches as his son grows and is there every step of the way (even if Megumi dosen't know it)

Megumi and get caught up in the moment (And on Gojo's phone)

Synopsis: Megumi gives up on his mind and follows his instincts. And Gojo bares witness.

You and Megumi have your first official date

Synopsis: You and Megumi sneak out at night only for you to be pleasantly surprised by your fist date.

Bed bugs

Synopsis: He could care less about the marks he leaves.

☆Yuji☆

Yuji being horrible at comforting you and getting jealous over a 'guy'

Synopsis: Yuji hears you crying uncontrollably but after he fails to console you Gojo interrupts. which pretty much dose the trick.

♡Yuta♡

Nothing yet...which is kinda weird because he's my favorite character.

There is a bit of him in the various fics tho.

♤Toge♤

Nothing yet...

~Gojo~

7 Minutes in panic (College AU) 1700 words EXACTLY.

Synopsis: You go to a party for the first time and run into your Chemistry partner. As luck would have it the night goes wrong when your drink turns out to be spiked and your stuck with him in your closet.

Mafia Gojo needs to go to work but you could care less.

Synopsis: Really short less then 100 words. Gojo has to go to work but you convince hm not to.

Assassin partner Gojo tries to make up for his mistakes.

Synopsis: Gojo's made a few mistakes in his job when it comes to you but in the end he knows you weren't one of them.

When you are replaced.

Synopsis: A new transfer teacher comes to Tokyo jujutsu high and she seems a bit to friendly.

Geto

Look at the various or go to the series section for '5 satges of greif'

¤Nanami¤

Teen Nanami and the random trampoline

Synopsis: Nanami just feels like a happy kid.

Teen Nanami winning cards.

Synopsis: In a game of cards, Nanami competes for the first prize which you gladly give him.

▪︎Sukuna▪︎

Sukuna switching with Yuji when your both asleep.

Synopsis: Sukuna wants a feel of what Yuji gets.

Intervention

Synopsis: You were going to go get married off to the Gojo clans strongest, how ever you disappear when you marriage was announced. The only clue anyone has to your disappearance is the monster lurking in the woods.

Choso

He gets jealous of your new pet cat.

Synopsis: You find a stray cat and Choso is not a cat person.

-Series-

5 stages of grief

1 Denial, Megumi Fushiguro

Synopsis: After Megumi's death you start seeing him everywhere, but every time your reminded that he is dead.

2 Anger, Suguru Geto

Synopsis: After his death you cut yourself off and busy your life with work, however when your called into Shibuya you can't bring yourself to kill him, until he assures you that its okay.

3 Bargaining, Satoru Gojo

Synopsis: After Gojo's death you try everything you can for years but nothing will bring him back.

Various JJK men and scenarios:

-Pretending to be your boyfriend and saving you from creeps:

Synopsis: Creep approaches, their there to save you.

Megumi and Yuji

Gojo and Geto

Nanami and Toji

Sukuna and Choso (Coming soon)

-When you forget your umbrella:

-Synopsis: You forget your umbrella but they find solutions.

Yuji and Megumi

Teen Gojo and Office worker Nanami

-When the train is crowded

Synopsis: The train goes thorough rush hour and you guys got stuck in it.

Yuji, Megumi and Yuta

-When the secretly hear you sing

Synopsis: You don't like singing infront of other people, but they want you to sing around them.

Megumi and Yuji

-When they accidently fall on you and vice versa

Synopsis: Its exactly what it sounds like.

Yuta and Yuji

-When you go to your first festival with them

Synopsis: You go to the festival for the first time with

Megumi, Yuji and Yuta

-When you turn delusional

Synopsis: From sleep deprivation to blood loss.

Yuji and Toge

-When you think they would hurt you.

Synopsis: When arguments bring your instincts back, they almost drop everything to love you again.

Yuji and Megumi

Yuta and Gojo

-Movie date but things get heated.

Synopsis: A simple movie in an almost empty cinema is good enough. (Not smut but suggestive)

Gojo and Megumi

-When they eat the last donut

Gojo and Yuji/Sukuna

-When they have an older GF

Yuji and Yuta (Aged upish, nothing illegal okay)

-Their morning voice

Megumi and Yuji

-When someone breaks into your house

Megumi and Yuji

If you want anything else or the same thing for a different character, just request I don't really have any rules-ish.

More to come!

Pleseee give me request, i'll die if I don't write anythingggggg.

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asimplearchivist · 6 months ago

Text

☆ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆

☆ 𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ☆ ☆ [header(s) credit] | [divider(s) credit] ☆ ☆ Follow @asimplearchive and turn on notifications for updates! ☆

𝐁𝐀𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

' 𝕊𝔸𝕍𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝔾ℝ𝔸ℂ𝔼 . ' | 𝕄𝔸𝕊𝕋𝔼ℝℙ𝕆𝕊𝕋 | ☆ / ♡ ♤ ♧ ♣ / ♔ ♗ ♖ ♘ ♙

[ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ] 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ⤏ (Bayverse!Optimus Prime/Yeager!Reader) 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 ⤏ Cade Yeager’s older sister never knows what she’ll find in their barn upon returning from her routine antiquing trips—the submission box at the driveway is often littered with junk of all kinds that they try to fix for a living. You just never would have expected for him to take on the task of repairing a Cybertronian. 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⤏ ptsd, night terrors, (minor) (canonical) character death, grief, mourning, mentions of cancer, alcohol abuse 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼 ⤏ canon compliant, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, flirting, angst with a happy ending

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

ℂℍ. 𝕀 🗡 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕥

ℂℍ. 𝕀𝕀 🗡 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕟

ℂℍ. 𝕀𝕀𝕀 🗡 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕥

ℂℍ. 𝕀𝕍 🗡 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕞

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊:

[ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ]

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ⤏ (TFP!Optimus Prime/Reader) | (Past TFP!Optimus Prime/Elita One)

‘ 𝕐𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 ’ | ☾ / ♡ ♤ ♣ / ♘ ♙

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 ⤏ When the kids grow restless during the weekend, you entreat Optimus to take the group of you out for 'educational' purposes—all goes well until a thunderstorm strikes, but it could have resulted worse.

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⤏ thunderstorms, medical examination (not performed on reader)

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼 ⤏ camping, campfire (cooking) (ghost/mystery stories), poetry, crushes, cuddling & snuggling, falling in love, (tooth-rotting) fluff, (not actually) unrequited love, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts

‘ 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕟𝕘 ’ | ☾ / ♡ ♤ ♣ / ♗ ♖ ♘ ♙

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 ⤏ You find Optimus musing about the past while surveying Earth's celestial sphere. You try not to let your personal feelings impair your ability to comfort him.

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⤏ grief/mourning, (minor) (background) (past) character death, loss

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼 ⤏ sleepovers, stargazing, cybertronian culture/language, angst (and fluff) (with a happy ending) (and hurt/comfort) (and feels) (and tragedy), language (barrier), first meetings, first love, religious discussion, (not actually) unrequited love

#fisara's codices #masterlist #fanfiction #transformers #bayverse #tfp #reader insert #optimus prime #optimus prime/reader #ao3: saving grace #ao3: your prime his spark

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celestemagnoliathewriter · 2 years ago

Note

do you happen to have any andromeda and teddy headcanons?♧

finally getting around to answer this! (I apologize, the end of the semester is killing me and asks like this always take a while to answer):

Andromeda & Teddy head canons - keeping it canon compliant here:

Teddy is all the color and light in Andromeda's life after Tonks dies. If it wasn't for Teddy, Andromeda wouldn't have had anyone to live for.

Andromeda dresses Teddy in a lot of Tonks's old clothes. Tonks was a bit of a "tomboy" and didn't like frilly things, so they work great for her son. It brings Andromeda so much joy to see another little Metamorphmagus running around in the same clothes.

Andromeda takes Teddy to his parents' grave every week in the first year after they die. She tells her daughter and son in law everything that Teddy is doing. Eventually, Teddy is able to tell them himself.

As Teddy grows and life gets busier, Andromeda and Teddy visit once a month. They always visit for birthdays and holidays.

Andromeda accidentally calls Teddy "Nymphadora" whenever his hair is pink. At first, it makes her sob when she realizes she's addressing her grandson and not her daughter, but eventually she makes peace with it.

The same thing happens when Teddy decides to look like a young version of Ted Tonks.

When Teddy is little he doesn't understand why his Gran cries when he morphs to look like his mother or grandfather.

Teddy is clumsy like Tonks. Andromeda is very well prepared for a clumsy Metamorphmagus and heals him quickly. She cries when their accidents are similar, or they run into the same obstacles in the house.

Teddy is quieter than Tonks. He broods when he's angry, like Remus. Andromeda tries very hard (and often fails) not to lose her patience with him. She hates the passive-aggressiveness that Teddy inherits from Remus.

Teddy is easier to teach than Tonks. Teddy has much better manners than Tonks did, despite his clumsiness. His penmanship is outstanding and he's well behaved enough to be a prefect and Head Boy. Andromeda is one proud grandmother.

Andromeda is careful when speaking about Remus. She had a somewhat strained relationship with him and tries to highlight the better aspects of him to Teddy.

Teddy picks up on these veiled comments as he gets older. He comes to understand his father was a flawed, but good man who loved him.

Andromeda is Teddy's mother and father. Harry was his godfather, but Andromeda was there at all hours of night, all the tantrums, and all the pain. Harry helped, but Andromeda is Teddy's #1 parent and grandparent in one.

Andromeda never remarries. Her life revolves around Teddy and rebuilding herself after the war. She makes friends with Molly and becomes a great aunt to the many Weasley grandchildren.

Andromeda misses Teddy greatly when he goes to Hogwarts or whenever he visits Harry, but she wants him to be happy and thrive. Andromeda helps with the Weasley grandkids, especially the Potter-Weasley grandchildren.

Just like Molly took a role in Harry's life, Andromeda does too. Andromeda becomes like a pseudo grandmother to the Potter-Weasley kids, but is more like a great aunt to the other Weasley grandchildren.

Teddy and Andromeda go through stages of grief together as Teddy grows up. It's hard for Teddy not to be grief-stricken on holidays like Mother's Day and Father's Day. He has his grandmother and godfather, but it's not the same as his mother and father. It's a struggle he eventually finds some peace with.

When Teddy brings Victoire home, Andromeda teases them by saying she's too young to be a great grandmother.

When she DOES become a great grandmother to a baby girl, called Andromeda Fleur, she's over the moon. Little Annie is later joined by Dora Victoire, and finally by Remus William.

When Andromeda finally dies, her funeral is huge - as big as Remus and Tonks's. Andromeda's social circle became so large through Teddy and she's remembered, loved, and celebrated by many people.

Later, when Teddy is dying, it's not his parents who he sees on his deathbed, but his beloved grandmother. She brings him home and welcomes him to the afterlife.

#teddy lupin #andromeda tonks #andromeda black tonks #ted tonks #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #remadora #edward remus lupin #victoire weasley #i made this real sad at the end

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curlyjohnlock · 1 year ago

Text

🌅 MY FANFICS MASTERLIST 🌅

Hello everyone! ❤

I'm curlyjohnlock (but you can call me by my first name, Lisa), and I'm super excited to share my fanfics with you all!! 🎉

I mostly write in the BBC SHERLOCK fandom, and my stories tend to focus on angst, romance/slow burn, whump and sometimes even fluff.

I've been writing stories since I learned how to hold a pen and, for many years, I focused on fandoms like Harry Potter and Sweeney Todd [or something related to Johnny Depp's movies (the fantastic years 2005-2012 🥰)].

At the time I was posting them on another site, but I may decide to expand those stories and maybe bring them to ao3! Who knows!

But anyway! Here’s a little preview of what you’ll find on my ao3 profile:

🔗 curlyjohnlock on ao3

Current Count: 6 stories, 2 series.

♧ Tango Between Broken Hearts

“Sherlock needs to see that there is still something worth fighting for. Otherwise we will lose him forever.” “Are you sure it’s not too soon? What if all this pushes him deeper down?” asked John, quite concerned. Mycroft hesitated, his gaze betraying a hint of concern that he rarely let slip. “At that point, we will have done everything in our power.” John nodded again, determined. “All right, then. I'll be there. I’ll always be there for him.” Serendipity brought Sherlock and John together, but a terrible incident tore them apart for ten years. Now that fate has thrown that card back across the table for them to play again, they're both carrying the incurable wounds of their past. Will they be able to overcome the past and rediscover the love they once shared, or will half truths and too many lies continue to keep them forever apart?

Word Count: 50k - still posting

Chapters: 13/25

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Romance, Slow Romance, Angst, Emotional/Hurt Comfort, Bearded John Watson, Happy Ending, Family Secrets, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Introspection, Emotional Roller Coaster

♧ A Soup Is Best Served Warm

Sherlock and John, both feeling a little sickly, find themselves in a situation where each is convinced that the other is the one who is sick and must eat the soup to feel better. Obviously, neither of them really wants to admit that they might actually be the one who’s ill. Mrs. Hudson will make them understand who’s in charge of the whole situation.

Word Count: 4k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sleepy Kisses, Slice of Life, Romantic Fluff, Cuddles, Sharing a Bed

This one is Part 3 of TUMBLR MADE ME DO IT

♧ A Taste of the Forbidden Fruit

London, 1949. Sherlock Holmes, a young homosexual tormented by the conservative beliefs of his family, seeks comfort in Father Watson, hoping to find refuge from his internal conflicts. But he never expected that the priest would exploit his authority to satisfy his own sexual desires...

Word Count: 4k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: AU - PRIESTS, Rape/non con elements, angst, Catholicism, religious guilt, emotional hurt, Dark John Watson, Bearded John Watson, abuse of authority

This one is Part 1 of MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL

♧ When We Were Infinite

John made a vow: he promised he would never forget a very special day: the day he married Sherlock. Despite his promise, John's memory begins to fade. As his memory slips further away, Sherlock desperately tries to find any way possible to preserve their precious memories. But, most them, are heartbreaking.

Word Count: 6,5k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Slice of Life, angst, memories, self-hatred, despair, last kiss, major character death, sad and sweet, grief/mourning

♧ Herring Hiccups and Rainy Rambles

In the middle of a raging thunderstorm, Sherlock finds himself trapped in 221b. It would be a great occasion to have some peace of mind, but Rosie isn't of the same opinion.

Word Count: 3,5k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, moonlight, cute ending, family, fluff, parentlock, sherlock holmes has feelings

This one is Part 2 of TUMBLR MADE ME DO IT

♧ Tea, Butts and Sherlock's Doctoring Disaster

An unexpected event disturbs John's ordinary life. It isn't a case, a criminal, or Sherlock. No, it's something entirely different and, dare we say, discomfortingly ordinary: constipation.

And Sherlock finds the right solution for it.

Word Count: 1,5k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, missing moments, season 1, awkward sexual situations, enemas, fluff, hurt/comfort

This one is Part 1 of TUMBLR MADE ME DO IT

#bbc sherlock #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #john watson #johnlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes #sherlock #parentlock #sherlock x john #sherlock fandom #fanfics #fanfic #flash fiction #ficlet #my fic #sherlockbbc #sherlock fanfic

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everlastingdreams · 10 months ago

Text

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 32

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Chapter Title: What Once Was.

Notes: /

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +200K

Chapter: 32/40

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When your eyes opened, dim sunlight was entering the room through the window. At some point in the night you must have turned in your sleep, Lancelot was still asleep behind you but had his arm greedily around your waist. It took a few minutes to pry his hand loose so you could slip out of his hold without waking him. If you did not leave his room soon, you might as well have shouted it from the roof that there was something between you and the Ash Man. Your father would murder him if he found you here.

For a blink second you considered borrowing his cloak to get to your room, but it would not make matters better if they saw you in your nightgown strolling around the castle with his cloak on your shoulders…

With regret you got up from the bed and looked back to see him still vast asleep. He was quite a striking vision like this, hair messy and the sheets no higher than his waist. You forced your eyes away from him, or leaving would become an impossible task. Barefooted you left the room, chasing the night before the dawn would make it’s presence known all over the fort. You passed Ciro and Squirrel’s room, hearing how they were clearly awake already, and tiptoed past the door. While turning a corner you collided with something solid quite hard.

“Lady of Dawn. My apologies, I did not see you coming.” Ser Florent caught you by the elbow to help you steady yourself.

Dammit…

By reflex you crossed your arms in front of you, feeling quite bare in just the nightgown.

The knight read your response to his presence well, and had removed his cloak not a moment later to put it over your shoulders, “Where to then?”

He wasn’t even going to ask why you were walking around the fort under dressed like this?

“I was on my way to my room.” You greatly appreciated the gesture.

He saw the way you were looking at him a bit uncertain and said, “I am a knight, I will not ask a lady about her personal affairs.”

“That is very gallant of you.” The other knights were far more nosy.

Ser Florent walked you all the way to your room and even helped prevent others from seeing you like this. At the door, you handed him back his cloak and thanked him again for his chivalry.

He bowed his head a little. “I will speak of this to no one, so do not concern yourself, my lady.”

You were beginning to see him as trustworthy. “Please, just call me ‘y/n’. I am no noble.”

“Perhaps not by blood, but by character you are.” He stated. “Have a good day, y/n. If there is anything you need, the knights of the Fey are at your service.”

This time he bowed his head further and let you go into your room to ready yourself for the day ahead.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Once you were dressed and washed up, you headed out the door for breakfast like nothing had happened. Squirrel and Ciro were in the kitchens, having had the same idea as you. First you greeted the volunteers of the day who were busy baking bread with the sacks of flower that had been acquired again.

“Morning, Little Moons.” You tore a piece of bread from a loaf and walked up to the children.

“We’re not little!” Squirrel piped up.

Ciro greeted you with a wide smile while explaining things to Squirrel. “It’s what they call Dawn Folk children, Squirrel.”

The boy hadn’t realized that it was a term of endearment and not an insult. “Oh…”

You gave Squirrel a hug, he still acted like he didn’t enjoy it.

Ciro on the other hand welcomed your embrace with open arms, “Can we practice with the bow again today?”

Mirena had not come to ask you for help with healing yet, so for now you had no plans.

You hummed pensively. “I’d have to borrow Lancelot’s bow.”

“Please.” Squirrel pleaded. “He won’t mind.”

“I’m not the best with the bow either.” You sheepishly admitted.

Squirrel grinned. “I am.”

It was hard to say ‘no’ to two children who looked so enthusiastic and hopeful. “Alright. I’ll fetch the bow. Eat something and meet me in the courtyard.”

They both began to collect some bread and fruit to eat. By the time you were out of the kitchen, they were chewing. You ate your bread whilst walking towards the stables to get the bow from Goliath’s saddle. At a cross-corridor, the Ash Man joined your side.

“Good morning.” Your grin told the secret between you.

His own matched it, “Good Morning. Where are you headed?” He began to walk beside you.

“To Goliath.” You told him. “To fetch your bow.”

His grin grew, “Should I be concerned?”

You snorted a laugh. “I’m fetching it because Squirrel and Ciro asked to practice.”

The smug oaf decided to ask, “I see. How is your skill in archery?”

Your eyes narrowed at him in warning.

He was clever enough not to single you out. “Some practice benefits everyone.”

You approved of his quick thinking. “Indeed. And some help from others too.”

He could tell that you were asking for some advising on archery. “You have but to ask.”

Of course he’d love to show off his skills…

You warned him. “If I catch you laughing-”

“I will not.” He answered quick. Too quick.

“Fine then.”

“Fine what?”

“You can show me how you use the bow.”

“I did not hear you ask.”

Swiftly you turned to him before he could open the door to the courtyard. It came out a bit arrogant, “Do you want me to say ‘please’?”

There was a lopsided smirk tugging at his mouth now, he looked you up and down with expectation.

You swallowed your pride, “Fine. Will you please show me how to use a bow?”

Every word came out more agitated than the previous.

“Gladly.” The smug twit said, and opened the door for you.

You moved past him closely, brushing against him on purpose.

In part of the courtyard, a group of knights was sparring. Matthew and Florent were among them.

Matthew saw you and Lancelot walk by them and approached, “Ash Man, care do join our spar?”

Lancelot looked at him, then at the knights who looked uncertain about the whole idea. “Perhaps another time.”

You were beginning to walk away when what he said next made both of you halt.

Matthew was still fueled by the spar and showed his true colors, “Wouldn’t it be good to see if we could stand our ground against one of the Church’s weapons?”

The other knights said nothing of the way Matthew still addressed Lancelot as one of the Church.

You saw the Ash Man bite his tongue, but you weren’t going to let that slide, “He’s no longer-”

Ser Florent groaned at his fellow knight, pushing some of his short light golden hair back in irritation, “By the gods, Matthew. Do not act haughty, some of us have seen how well you’d do against the Ash Man.”

Matthew glared back at him, the other knights hid their chuckles by pretending to cough. You looked at Lancelot, feeling like there was something you had missed.

Ser Florent approached you, respectfully tilting his head, then he quietly spoke to Lancelot, “If you want to show us your skill, we would appreciate it. But the choice lies with you.”

From the corner of his eyes Lancelot looked at you, seeking advice on what to decide.

There was a slight shrug of your shoulders, “It could help to see if they can stand their ground against someone with experience.”

He thought about it for a second, then gave Ser Florent a nod.

“I’ll wait here.” You witnessed up close how the look in Lancelot’s eyes changed, the prospect of a challenge had awoken the warrior in him. “Be careful.”

An alluring smirk appeared on his lips. “I will be gentle.”

You shut your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. He walked towards the knights with Ser Florent.

This knight proved to be one for settling grudges. “Well then, Matthew. Considering you were the one to invite him, I doubt you have any objections to be the first to compare your skill against his?”

He was growing to appreciate this perceptive knight…

Matthew failed to provide an honest smile and beckoned for the Ash Man. “No objections.”

Ser Florent whispered to Lancelot, “I know you two do not get along. Do try not to kill him. We are short on knights.”

He gave a respectful nod and drew his short sword whilst approaching the insolent ‘knight’.

Matthew had his sword ready to spar, “Shouldn’t you draw your other sword?”

Lancelot let some arrogance slip, “I need no weapons to disarm you.”

The other knights took a step back to give them the room to end this strange quarrel. Deep down you understood that there was some rivalry between them. It was as if Matthew believed he had a claim on you because he knew you before Lancelot did. And Lancelot was bothered by the attitude Matthew had displayed. The infatuation had blinded you from seeing the flaws in the honey-eyed knight, it became harder to stand his character day by day. The end of a friendship was painful, but maybe it was necessary if Matthew continued to be hurtful.

Matthew laughed a bit at Lancelot’s claim, “Better keep one in hand. I wouldn’t want you to lose an arm.”

Matthew was the first to lunge.

Lancelot parried the attack and pushed the sword away with his own, turning the blade pointing downwards to try and get Matthew to stumble when he pushed back. Matthew countered the maneuver and managed to get his sword free, attacking with an upward motion. The tip of the sword passed right by Lancelot’s chin, who had tilted his head back just in time. Matthew was acting too careless.

“Have you gone mad?!” You shouted at him.

Lancelot wasn’t amused by the reckless action in the slightest.

“He can handle a Fey.” Matthew sneered, aiming it at Lancelot’s past.

Matthew went to lunge at him again, but Ser Florent grabbed a firm hold on his arm.

Ser Florent seethed at Matthew, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Matthew pulled himself free. “Gods, Florent. I won’t kill him!”

Ser Florent looked at Lancelot to see if he wanted to continue this. To your dismay, the Ash Man nodded. The knight stepped out of the way but kept a close eye on them.

Matthew attacked again.

Lancelot no longer played ‘gentle’ and hooked the crossguard of the short sword into Matthew’s, then elbowed him in the stomach. A boot to Matthew’s toes and a quick strong pull at the locked swords send Matthew face first to the ground.

An ‘oof’ sounded from those who had witnessed it happen.

Lancelot knelt down beside the fallen knight and whispered something to him, then stood again. Matthew took a second before pushing himself up from the ground, he wasn’t happy with the loss but made no attempt to continue the spar. You saw them share a look, filled with matters they seemingly refused to speak out loud to one another.

Ser Florent clapped his hands together once, “Well then, that was… educative. Care to do us the honor too, Lancelot?”

The knight gestured to the others and himself. Matthew stepped aside and let another knight step in his place.

Lancelot seemed quite willing to spar with them. And you were glad to see that others wanted to spend some time with him too. Finally, he was beginning to find his place here.

They matched their skill to his, one by one, and they would have fallen to the steel of the Ash Man had this been a real battle.

Helio had walked up to you, having noticed the spar happening. You kept quiet as your father stood beside you to watch the display, the knights had not noticed his presence yet, they were too busy having fun.

“He has talent.” Helio suddenly said.

“He has.” You agreed.

Helio kept his eyes on the spar. “I can see how he is holding back now. If he wanted to, he could kill them all.”

“He won’t!” You turned to him.

Helio did not look at you. “Those who live by the blade, perish by it. I admire his determination to seek another path in life.”

You watched the spar, it continued amicably. “He did not choose to be picked by Father Carden to become a warrior. Now that he is free from the Church’s hold, his true character comes to light.”

Helio hummed and saw how even when the knights fought with two against the Ash Man, his dual wielding of swords still proved quite the challenge against them. You saw Squirrel and Ciro walk unto the courtyard. They came up to you and the sparring was not sufficient enough to make them forget about their plans.

“Where is the bow?” Squirrel pouted.

The knights began talking for a moment and noticed the children present.

You put their worried minds at ease. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get it and be right back.”

Helio inquired, “Why do they need a bow for?”

“I promised the children to help them practice archery.” You told him.

“You?” Matthew said in disbelief after having heard it.

When the other knights looked at him, Matthew realized he had said something wrong. Lancelot could see your eyes spit fire at Matthew.

Nothing that would have come out of your mouth now would have been nice. How many times did he find it necessary to make a fool of you in front of others?

You walked away to go and collect the bow, and caught yourself thinking of using another target for practice instead of that straw-man.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

A few minutes had passed where Squirrel proved to be quite the stern tutor when it came to archery. He stood close to Ciro, watching over every move your cousin made.

“Now, nock.” Squirrel watched Ciro’s shaking posture.

Poor Ciro barely managed not to drop the arrow to the ground.

You offered some encouragement, “Think of what Lancelot has taught you.”

It appeared that Ciro was more nervous to get Squirrel’s approval…

Ciro dropped the arrow by accident. “Ss…sorry.”

Squirrel picked it up for him and handed it back, “Nothing bad’s going to happen, you know. You’re not going to shoot someone’s eye out.”

It was a poor attempt to comfort Ciro, but it was an attempt. For Squirrel to do so, he must like Ciro.

Ciro held up the arrow for you to take, “Will you try it?”

He clearly needed a moment.

You took the arrow from him with a matching uncertainty, knowing that by doing so Ciro had also transferred Squirrel’s attention over to you. “I’ll try.”

The bow was handed to you next and you felt your own hands start to shake a little.

Dammit…

The Hidden had mercy on you it seems, because the Ash Man returned to you after sparring to his heart’s content. You had seen the knowing grin he had after seeing the bow and arrow in your hands and glared at him for it.

Squirrel looked relieved to see that Lancelot was there to handle the tutoring part in his stead.

Whilst passing by the children, he gave Ciro a pat on the shoulder to give the boy some comfort.

He came to stand behind you and gave the order right away. “Nock.”

You had such a firm hold on the arrow and bow that it would not touch the ground unless you were on it too. It looked so simple, but once it was time to do so it proved that one needed to learn certain methods to send an arrow flying through the air. You looked at Lancelot from the corner of your eyes, seeing how he was clearly waiting for you to ask for help.

That smug…

You forced it through your teeth, “How do I nock properly?”

It was so obvious he had been waiting for the question, his quick reaction gave it away. He brought your arm lower and corrected the way your fingers were on the bow. “Do not grip the bow so tight, it is not going anywhere.”

Was that last comment really necessary? You shot him a warning look, he pretended not to see it.

His hand came to your back. “Do not lean or bend.” It skimmed down to your lower back, “Straighten your back.”

You scanned your surroundings, and quietly told him, “Hands…”

The children were not looking for a moment, nor any other curious eyes. He could not resist.

Before he withdrew his hand, he playfully scratched at the spot in a discreet and quick manner. If it wouldn’t have drawn more attention, you’d have swatted the twit’s hand away. For the rest of his help, he only touched your hands, and even that…

Thank the gods that your father and the knights were busy training. The Ash Man danced on dangerous ice, and enjoyed doing so it seemed.

“Loose.” He ordered once he was content with how you held the bow and arrow.

The arrow flew across the courtyard and hit the straw-man hard in the ‘chest’.

“Good draw strength.” His brow arched at the sight.

“Whoa!” Ciro and Squirrel exclaimed.

It had gotten Ciro excited to try again and you handed him the bow whilst Lancelot retrieved the arrow.

“See. If she can do it, you sure can.” Squirrel continued to offer some encouragement to Ciro, this time it was more effective.

The joy you had felt at successfully firing an arrow was almost spoiled by the blunt comment of the boy. Lancelot returned just in time to hear Squirrel say it and swallowed a laugh. At least the boy had good intentions, just a poor choice of words.

“Percival is right.” Lancelot said to Ciro while grinning in your direction.

You pulled a face at him when the children did not see. Then the Ash Man looked behind you, something had drawn his attention. You looked back to see your mother approaching.

Mirena had crossed the courtyard to come and speak to you, “I need to discuss something with you, do you have a moment?”

“Of course.” You followed her to stand a little further away from the others.

She wasted no time to get to the point of this, “A blacksmith in Madrock has send me a letter. There is something waiting for me to be collected. Will you go for me?”

It was rare for your mother to ask for the help of others on matters like this. “Alright. But why ask me?”

Mirena gestured to you. “I am asking you to go, because whilst you’re there you can get some new clothes on the market.” She touched the damaged, bloodstained sleeve of your jacket. “This is ruined.”

You looked down at your sleeve sheepishly.

“Go tomorrow. Good?” She asked.

You nodded, and saw her calling the Ash Man over. He came closer to hear what this was about.

Mirena gave a quick explanation and a request, “Y/n is going to Madrock tomorrow to retrieve something for me. Accompany my daughter.”

“Of course.” Lancelot tilted his head respectfully.

“That is settled then.” She was content with the positive response from both.

Before she could walk away, you asked, “What exactly is this ‘something’ we have to go and collect?”

“Do not be so nosy, Little Moon.” Mirena said and walked away.

Ah, one was never too old to be scolded by their parents…

You saw the look on Lancelot’s face.

“Don’t say a word.”

He bit his tongue.

Helio spoke to Mirena for a moment as she walked by, then he walked towards you.

“Ash Man.” He called out. “It would be good to have the boys watch the spar. Seeing is learning.”

While Squirrel was excited over it, Ciro let out the deepest sigh and you went to pat his shoulder a little. Lancelot collected the bow from Ciro and walked with the boys towards the sparring knights.

He would have preferred not to teach them the flaws in the sword fighting of some of the knights.

You stood and watched for a while too, sighing quietly when you saw Matthew come towards you. Matthew came to stand next to you and watched his fellow knights continue to spar without him.

You kept quiet, being very aware of the tensing that had happened to Lancelot’s jaw when he had seen Matthew stop beside you.

“Why don’t we speak anymore?” Matthew suddenly asked.

Your reply was quite cold, “Because when we did, you decided to tell everyone of my personal affairs.”

“I told you I was sorry.” He acted a bit defensive, then sighed. “I don’t want us to fight.”

You crossed your arms, feeling uncomfortable. “Then I suggest you are more considerate towards others.”

“Are you still upset I rejected you for so long?” It sounded like a genuine thing he considered possible.

You swiftly faced him, stunned, “I am over it, Matthew.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes for a blink, he fixed his attention on the spar again. “Maybe it’s best then, that we don’t spend as much time together as we used to. We’re not children anymore.”

Ouch…

Now that you were no longer the infatuated woman there to stroke his ego, he saw no point to save the friendship between you. At least he was honest about how he saw things now.

Still, he seemed to mourn the past between you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I think we both know that what was between us once, is gone now.”

It did hurt to accept how things had changed, you had changed… you had grown.

You were understanding. “Some time apart will do us well.”

Matthew gave a respectful inclination of the head and joined the other knights again.

After all these years, you had come to see that Matthew was flawed, just like everyone else. But the things he sometimes said were hurtful, and in time those would have gnawed away any appreciation you had for him if you did not take a step away from each other now.

In that moment you withdrew in your thoughts, feeling the bitter pain of a friend that became no more than an acquaintance. Squirrel had been looking up at your face beyond your knowledge, he came to your side and curled his hand around yours when he saw the sadness. It pulled you back to the present, and seeing the sweet boy hold your hand made you feel a little better.

You saw Lancelot looking at you, and went over to him to take the bow from his hands. “I’ll take the bow back to Goliath.”

He knew you were only offering so you could have some time to yourself, and handed you the bow.

With an excuse to walk towards the stables, you hoped to clear your thoughts of the unpleasant ones. But the feeling would remain for a while…

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

In the late afternoon, you found yourself enjoying the little bit of sun there still was left with the children. It was going to be a short walk around the fort’s curtain walls, but once Squirrel laid himself down on the grass with his arms spread open like a bird, soon Ciro followed the example. After hesitating for a little while, you followed suit. Squirrel’s was on your right, Ciro on your left.

Squirrel squinted his eyes as the lowering sun was on them. “I like it here.”

You turned your head to look at him, “Do you?”

He nodded, speaking quietly, “I still miss home, and Nimue. But this feels like home too.”

His hand moved over the grass until it found yours and clasped around it. Squirrel turned his head to Ciro when he felt his friend do the same to him.

Ciro smiled at him, “You’re my best friend.”

“I’m your only friend.” Squirrel said without thinking.

“Squirrel!” You winced at the choice of words.

Ciro didn’t seem to mind and was just glad to have a friend, even a blunt one.

A chill began to set itself on your skin. “It’s getting colder. If we go inside, I can read to you from that book again if you want?”

“Can you read to us about the Snake Folk clan?” Ciro asked.

It would interest you as well. “Of course.”

You got up from the grass and helped them to their feet. Whilst walking back to the fort with them, most of the knights were not sparring anymore, they sat down against the wall to catch their breath. Only Ser Florent and Lancelot were still sharing information and tricks with each other on how to win in a fight. They were getting along quite well, the knight was the amicable and curious kind, he greeted you as you walked by with the children. Lancelot glanced at you and gave a polite nod, like you had not slept in his bed the previous night. With a secret smile of your own, you walked into the fort.

The book you needed was missing in their room for a few minutes.

“I put it on the chair.” Squirrel claimed.

So you found it under Ciro’s bed, still open on a page that spoke of the Faun Folk.

You plopped down on the floor between their beds, putting the book on your lap. “Snake Folk…”

You skimmed through the pages and found the chapter on the Snake Folk, one quick look at the next pages and you knew it would take a while to read all of it for them. Determined to keep your promise, you began to read from the book, it wasn’t long before they sat on the ground beside you to look at the pages as they were read out to them. Again your finger followed the words you read, so Squirrel could learn.

Time past far quicker than you had liked it to, it was nice to spend time with the children and see their young minds travel on the words of a book. At some point they had gotten into bed and you had been sitting with your back against Ciro’s bed, and that is how you woke up an hour later after dozing off with the book in your hands.

Dammit…

The children must have fallen asleep not long after you had. One look at the window told that night had fallen over the lands. You closed the heavy book as quiet as you could, and this time it was placed back on the chair. After tucking in the children, you left the room without waking them.

On the way to your room, you noticed candlelight coming from under the library’s door. You decided to go inside and pick out a book to read for yourself for on those nights where the past kept you from sleep. The Ash Man was in the library, head down over a book while a wall of stacked ones surrounded him. He was not as neat with books as you would have thought him to be it seemed.

You alerted him of your presence with a tease, “Did that book I gave you awake an appetite?”

An appetite for books, or…

It was deliberately ambiguous.

He shared one of his own, not lifting his eyes of the page being read, “I do not need a book for it, I have you.”

It left you flabbergasted, the wish to get him flustered had backfired.

He looked up for less than a second, amused to see your response.“I am curious to see if there is more of my clan hidden in these books.”

You brushed the thick layer of dust off of a book, “Any luck?”

He wasn’t gravely disappointed, like he expected that it was unlikely. “None yet.”

Lancelot closed the book and leaned back on the chair.

You searched one of the shelves for the book you wanted, ultimately finding it in one of the stacks he had on the table with him.

It sounded more like a statement coming from him when he saw what book you had chosen, “Again one on the matters of the heart?”

“What?” You shrugged your shoulders. “I like them.”

He was smirking up at you, “What do you enjoy about them?”

You swallowed the nerves down and tapped your fingers on the book. “I… uhm…”

Lancelot waited patiently for you to form a sentence.

“They were and are a safe way for me to learn what it’s like.” You admitted, “I know it’s not real, and it’s silly-”

“It’s not ‘silly’.” He told. “In books it is not our own heart that is at risk.”

It was nice to hear that he didn’t laugh, but rather understood. You hugged the book to your chest.

His head tilted a little to the side, reminding you of how a pup could look at someone.

When you saw him try to hide a yawn, you scolded him. “You should be resting, we’re traveling tomorrow.”

His quick wit was alert tonight. “Spoken by the one I am accompanying.”

He had a point.

You turned to leave. “Well, I am going to bed now. I don’t want to fall asleep on my horse.”

“Uhm-” Lancelot began but fell quiet.

There had been something he wanted to say…

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

It didn’t feel like it was nothing, but by his expression you could tell that dragging the truth out of him would be difficult.

You offered a sweet smile instead. “Good night then, try not to get lost in the tales in these books.”

While heading to the door, the sound of the chair dragging back made you turn to him. It looked like he wanted to say something but failed to do so again. Upon seeing your inquisitive eyes, he folded his hands behind his back to hide their restlessness.

He could not ask so much of you…

You sighed a little in compassion at seeing how uncertain he looked. “Alright, spit it out. I can’t sleep knowing that there is something that you think you can’t tell me.”

His hands squeezed together tight behind his back whilst he got closer to you.

The hood of his cloak hid the hope in his eyes, his gaze did not lift from the ground.

“Last night was…” He struggled to voice his thoughts, “It…”

It was odd to feel your heart warm at his stammering. You helped him by saying, “I found it lovely.”

Visual relief crossed his face, had he been worried that you regretted it?

His gaze went past your shoulder, before dropping to the ground again, “Worth repeating?”

Your eyes widened slightly, it had been an indirect request to join him again tonight. After having fallen silent for a moment, you tried to string a sentence together. “I am tempted. But if we want to be well-rested to travel tomorrow…”

He gave a slow nod, understanding what you wanted to say, “Not tonight?”

You reached a hand out to lace your fingers in the leather that ran across his chest, pulling him closer. “Another night will come. And if you wish for it too, many more after it.”

It was not often that you saw the Ash Man silent, yet so loud with the look in his eyes he gave. You brushed your lips to his cheek, whispering to him, “Sleep well.”

With a playful shove to his chest, you send him a step back and let go. He looked so tempted to respond to it, but held back. It was half a miracle that he just let you walk out of the library after that.

Maybe he’d make you pay for it tomorrow.

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