#I came across the part that said they were ivory and blue lol

[birdstooth]

Skipping around in the chapters a bit, but I had already started drawing this so I wanted to ride the motivation wave to the finish haha

This was super fun to read, I was totally picturing the vibe at those Medieval Times shows, except probably more aggressive and maybe with blood, which makes it better 😃

Oh and when Steve said “I did look fine out there, didn’t I?” he whispered, “good form, even if I did lose.” I was laughing so hard bc out of context that would be some bless your heart Forrest Gump level optimism lmao

Also, this is totally the Parker family crest /jk

Hue and Cry IX

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), mild violence, male-iinduced anxiety

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The first day of the tournament arrives.

Note: My pupper had surgery yesterday and it was my longer day of work for the week so lots going on. Also had some bad Chinese but managed to get this out before it came back up. Feel better now and I'll have a shorter day today.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Lord Barnes’ mood did not improve in the days leading up to the first of the tournament. It grew colder in the capital and many feared the events would be cut short by an early winter. You didn’t care much either way. You had no interest in the sport or much of anything. You just abided the duke and in those times he left you alone, you laid in a void.

His want of you didn’t wane nor did your despair or the disgust you felt when he touched you. It was one thing to be a servant, to be a tool, a means to an end, but what he used you for now seemed little more than torture. He delighted in what he did, in how he made you suffer. Those times you remained unmoving and unfeeling angered him the most.

You dressed in yellow that morning. The horns announced the beginning of the tournament as you made your way to the stand amid the sea of guests. The wives, daughters, sons, mothers and fathers of those who would compete. You were out of place as you climbed the wooden steps between the benches and a green sleeve shot up to wave to you.

“Dearie!” May brushed past her husband to stop you at the end of their seat, “here, with us,” she insisted, “we did save you a place.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly. You hadn’t seen her or her family since the night of the feast. Since Barnes had…

“I can’t have you sitting alone,” she trilled as she pulled you along with her and sat beside Lord Benjamin who bowed his head and issued a gentle greeting. “And I always longed for a daughter, you know? Peter’s a good boy but so troublesome. I did try to persuade him not to enter the lists but he just never stops.”

“The boy’s old enough,” Benjamin said, “when I was his age--”

“You married me,” May cut in, “a foolish decision indeed. He is on the roster for today. Sparring. I fear he might not make it past the early rounds but so long as he is not hurt.”

You nodded and covered your hands in your sleeves. Even with the fur-trimmed cloak Barnes allotted you, it was crisp. Your matching cap barely kept the cool air from your cheeks. Your leg shook from more than the cold as you recalled that Barnes was set to compete with the sword as well.

“A fine cape,” May commented as she touched the edge of your cloak, “with sleeves even.”

You looked down at the fawn-coloured garment that only allowed a peek of the canary yellow beneath. You fidgeted and kept your eyes on the field, “a gift,” you lied, well, maybe it wasn’t a lie, or maybe you’d bought it in sweat and tears.

Another horn blew and she quieted and clapped as all looked to the center of the arena. The wooden stands were hung in all shades of silk, the banners of each house, high and low, covered the rafters. By the end of the day, only one would remain. Lord Barnes’ blue and ivory flapped opposite your side and Benjamin pointed out his family's slender red and black crest amidst the panoply.

You were thankful for the distraction, not for you but for them. You didn’t know how many lies you could conjure or if you could keep the false smile on your lips. You clamped your hands together and watched a man in gold stroll out to the centre of the stadium with a cone to project his voice. You stood with May and Benjamin and the rest of the onlookers

“Fine ladies and gentlemen, princes, paupers, and everything in between, we welcome you in name of King Samuel to the Games of Goblets. For each competition, the victor is to be prized a goblet to bear as a symbol of his prestige. For the ax-throwing, bronze inlaid with amber, for the bow-and-arrow, silver set with citrine, for the melee, gold set with sapphire, and for the joust, a fine piece in gold set with opal and ruby.”

The crowd applauded and shouted. The man waited for them to quiet again, “This day, we begin with the melee, on the morrow, the axe, the next day, the arrow, and on the final day, we ride!”

Again, the audience grew rowdy and you were deafened by the cheers. The man laughed at the excitement and held up his hand for a final lull.

“Without further delay, let us begin. In our first round, the lower lords and the untested, before the second where they shall meet our season veterans, and so on…” he gauged the fervent tension of the people, “you will see me again upon the finale and perhaps you will be surprised by whoever stands with me.”

Again, the stand quaked with the energy of the people. You would have liked to sit but you stayed on your feet, afraid to draw unwanted attention. The first pair was announced but you didn’t watch. You stared at the sky or a rippling banner but had no interest in the games.

You only stopped to look as Peter’s name was called out and May grabbed your arm. She squealed as her nephew came out decked in his used armor, beaten out from its former user’s wear, and he unsheathed his sword to face his opponent. When the handkerchief was dropped, you were as stunned as his fellow competitor and the crowd by his swiftness. You’d never seen anyone move so fast, and in at least twenty pounds of armor.

The crowd awoke from their awe and cheered as his sword beat against the other man’s suit with tinks and tunks. It was like a bell, ding, ding, ding. It wasn’t until the other man was on his knees that the spar was ceased. Peter was declared the plain winner and sent on to wait for his next engagement. May wiped away tears of joy and Benjamin grumbled his approval.

You smiled, just a little. You were happy for Peter. You’d seen how joyful he was, he was likely dancing behind the curtain right now.

🏰

It wasn’t until the second round that Lord Barnes was introduced. He walked out fully armoured like any other combatant but his left arm was permanently bent, a shield strapped to it as he gripped his pommel in his right hand. He showed his steel and faced his match. He dealt hard and heavy blows until his opponent was on his back.

You shuddered at his unboasting victory as he wasn’t even patient enough to hear himself declared the winner. You touched your cold cheeks and puffed into the bitter air. The bodies around you warmed the stands but you were chilled to the core.

Peter appeared again in the second, then the third, fourth, and to his aunt and uncle’s delight, he soldiered onto the final. To your fear, he was to meet Lord Barnes. You tried not to squirm, not to show how nervous you were for Peter. You thought of running down and begging him to withdraw but what could you say? If anything, you’d both be worse for it.

As the last two banners were presented to the crowd, you sensed movement to your right. A familiar head of blond hair approached and the tall duke pushed past the row of people along the bench. Lord Rogers smirked as he came close, his sweaty hair drooping down his forehead from his last bout, the one he’d lost to his closest friend.

“Ah, I found you,” he said, “lady.”

You felt May peek past you and you gave a meek “my lord” as he stood close. He looked around you at the older couple.

“You have friends,” he stated, “please, do introduce us.”

You looked down and chewed your lip. You turned slowly to May and Benjamin, the latter peering past her only as he was torn from his fixation on the field.

“Lord Benjamin and Lady May Parker, baron and baroness,” you rubbed your hands together nervously, “Lord Steven Rogers, duke of Astrens.”

“Oh, we’ve heard of him,” May chirped, “my lord, it is an honour.”

“Indeed,” Benjamin agreed, “my lady, you did not inform of us of your lofty friends.”

“She is modest,” Rogers intoned, “we met by chance, really, through a common acquaintance.”

“You were skillful on the field, it is a pity you were bested,” May said.

“Very pitiful, I did put some gold on you, Lord Rogers,” Benjamin added, “alas it was a fine showing.”

“Wasn’t it?” he turned to stand with his arm pressed to yours, much too close for your liking, “however this one should be intriguing.”

“It’s our boy,” Benjamin said, “and your friend, my lord.”

“Perhaps you’d take another bet?” Rogers countered.

“I’ve lost enough this day,” Benjamin snorted, “I’d rather watch and be pleasantly surprised than paupered.”

“Prudence is wise but always so boring,” Rogers mused.

As the lower of the lords, Parker was announced first and you were saved from more uncomfortable banter by the man in grey. Rogers nudged you and bent as the introductions went long as the man with cone went into detail about the day’s fights all the way to the present match.

“I did look fine out there, didn’t I?” he whispered, “good form, even if I did lose. Barnes is in a mood and we both know that makes him… unpredictable.”

You lowered your head, “my lord.”

“You are quiet since last we met,” he remarked, “perhaps your thoughts linger on how else to use your mouth?”

You squirmed and stared at the competitors as they awaited their signal. Rogers laughed and stood straight as he focused on the field in kind. He played with your sleeve and tugged your arm down. He caressed the back of your hand and stepped even closer.

“When he wins, he might just be cheerful enough to share in his celebrations, hmm?” he said under his breath.

The gold cloth was dropped and the two men circled each other, eyeing their opponent cautiously. Barnes was the first to act but was evaded by the younger man. He didn’t not falter however as he swung again. Peter rolled under the strike and met it with his own steel, batting it away so that it nearly struck its holder.

Barnes dodged that time, then the boy spun again. They danced around each other, both swift, both calculating, both determined. Steel met steel but never that which clothed the fighters. May grabbed your other wrist as she held her breath.

Barnes laid a hit across Peter’s chestplate that made him stagger but he turned it into another lithe evasion. He snaked around the higher lord and hammered his false arm. The shield cracked in half and Peter ducked again.

Barnes was angry as he stabbed out. His blade was shoved away again and Peter jumped over the foot that tried to trip him up, a true achievement in armor.

You realised as Barnes laid a flurry of blows at the air that he was angry. The crowd silenced as the realisation fell over them and they watched as time seemed to slow. The duke was losing and he was enraged.

Peter jabbed the other man’s chest plated with his sword then hit his true arm. The sword bobbled in Barnes’ grip but he regained his hold on it. Too slow as Parker struck over and over, throwing him off balance, and sweeping him off his feet with a low lunge.

As Barnes clattered onto his back, the breath went out of him and every other person in the stadium. The man in grey shook away his shock and finally stepped forward.

“Our victor!” he grabbed Peter’s arm and raised it, “the Lord Parker!”

May hopped up and down and hugged her husband. Steve tutted and shook his head. Your eyes clung to Barnes as he sat up, forgotten in the dirt. His left arm was stuck at an angle away from his body and he reached up to force it back down.

Peter offered him his hand and was ignored. Barnes sheathed his sword and offered a curt bow before he exited. Rogers’ hand crawled up your arm and he gripped you. “Well, looks like we both will suffer his loss.”

For once, he spoke the truth.

[artbyfuji]

R,,,Reincarnation AU; Summer and Raven keep meeting each other (and falling in love ofc lmao) everytime. 🏃

I think my ass just wrote a whole fic up in here lol:

1341

You were the heir to the throne. I was assigned as your personal guard. You hated this life, your family formed you into the perfect being. The smartest. The wisest. The best fighter. But you hated it. They saw you as an object. Just like the subjects of their kingdom. They cared only for status, willing to sacrifice them all in a moments notice. You said I was the first person to view you as something more than a name. More than just the heir to the Rose Kingdom. One day in the royal library, you suggested it. “Let’s run away.” You showed me an old map of the castle, secret tunnels leading outside of the kingdom. 

I was loyal to the kingdom that gave me a chance to be something. But my loyalty to them couldn’t compare to my loyalty to you. We ran away. Crept through the tunnels and fled as far as our legs would take us. We were free, just the two of us, and in that moment, we shared a kiss. It was just us for maybe a year, but forces beyond our control wanted to break us apart. Enemy kingdoms were on the hunt for us, if you were killed it would benefit them immensely. They found us in the cottage we built by the river, it was two assassins intent to slaughter us. We fought but you were always stronger than me, I never understood why they would make me your guard if you could so easily defend yourself. Perhaps it was so I could take the fall in your stead. Maybe that’s what your family viewed me as, not a person, just a shield.

I was over powered, laying by the river bed bleeding out, wouldn’t make it much farther. The assassin grinned as he scraped his blade along the ground. He charged to stab me, but instead of hitting me…. the blade pierced right through your abdomen. I never noticed that you killed the assassins partner, never noticed you jumping into his path. Until it was too late. He pulled the blade from you, and the sound you made hurt me more than these wounds ever could have. But with the last of your strength you killed him, sliced his throat while he was mid swing. You then limped over and laid down beside me. We stared up at the sky, stars were visible and the dusk began to slip away. The sound of the river flowing drowned out our weak breaths.

Your bloodied hand grabbed for mine squeezing it as tight you could manage. Then we turned to look at each other, your lone silver eye piercing me to my core. Your smile barely masked the pained emotions creeping under the surface. I wanted to be angry with you. for taking the blade for me. But some reason, I felt nothing…. I was just lost in your presence. You looked me in the eyes and said it “we’ll find each other again.” It was a statement like you were positive this wouldn’t be the end of our story. I smiled… because I believed you. We both looked at the sky again. Watched the stars shine in the dark blue night sky.

Until it was black that consumed us both.

1674

Seeing you again shocked me to my core. We lived in the same town, I worked as a carpenter with my brother. You were an apprentice to a tailor. You wandered into our shop in hopes of getting a stool repaired. We looked each other in the eyes and just knew… knew of our past lives, of our struggles. Of our promise. We were finally together again. “I didn’t want to lose you again,” I said as we held each other in a tight embrace. “I didn’t want to lose you again,” I said as our lips pressed together for the first time, under that oak tree outside of town. “I didn’t want lose you again,” I said as we laid in the same bed, clothes long abandoned on the floor. “I wouldn’t lose you again,” I said as knelt in front of you holding a ring up. You laughed, and confusion flooded my mind, until you knelt down and showed me the ring you were hiding….. it made our love grow that much more.

We were set to be wed. We decided on late spring, the ceremony would be held on that cliff side you loved so much. The way the sky looked at sunset was a true marvel, with brilliant hues of orange and purple that would dance across the sky. Was this the happiness we deserved in our past lives? I remember regretting asking myself that. Because two months before our wedding, I fell ill. double pneumonia, they said i should cherish the days I have left because it wouldn’t be many. 

It was the eve of our would-be wedding when my body lost its battle. You sat beside the bed everyday soothing my pain. But this day was different, I could barely keep my eyes open, I knew the end was coming, and maybe you did too. Because you reached for my hand and squeezed it tight. You delicately brushed hair away from my eyes and through ragged breaths, I parted them as best I could. your lone silver eye piercing me to my core. It felt familiar. You smiled, leaned down and pressed a kiss against my forehead.

I spoke one final request. “Lay beside me.” I knew you wouldn’t deny it. You got up and walked around the bed, it dipped to my right. You lifted my head and placed it against your chest. Your shirt was soft against my sallow skin. You cradled my weak form. That’s when you whispered it. “We’ll find each other again.” I believed you. I closed my eyes and listened to your heartbeat.

Until i didn’t have the strength to even do that.

1856

Maybe the frustration of how unfairly my life played out in my last incarnation is what caused me to pick such a violent path in the new one. My brother and I were bandits. Robbing train cars and stage coaches to make a living in this cruel world. When we met again I never expected to be looking down the barrel of your gun. It seems you too chose a dangerous path in your new life. You were the leader of a group of train robbers Ivory Rose, and we both had the same idea of robbing a train delivering gold. 

My brother and I joined your group. We took on whatever the world threw at us guns blazing. It was such a thrill, the rush of adrenaline as we dodged bullets together. I remember every close call we had, how the thrill of survival would sometimes turn to lust, how our bodies would meld together whenever we shared a bed in a heady mix of sweat and arousal. This life wasn’t going to end in a happily ever after. But we didn’t really care. We were just happy to find each other again.

Our dangerous life caught up to us. Wanted posters plastered in every town. wanted dead or alive. We stole from one too many of the wrong people and the Pinkertons we encountered chose “dead”. They trapped us in an abandoned lumber factory. They wouldn’t leave until they knew we were dead. You laughed as you reloaded your guns counted how many bullets you had left. I did the same, we both knew we wouldn’t make it far, but we weren’t ones to cower in fear. Everyone outside ceased fire for a moment, and if felt like the world ceased spinning for a moment, maybe giving us one last chance to say goodbye. We used that time to look each other in the eyes, your lone silver eye piercing my very core. We shared a kiss. Your lips burned like fire against mine. You said those words again. “We’ll find each other again.” I believed you. We ran out into gun fire. I can’t say I remember much after that.

But i’m sure you lasted just a bit longer than me.

1915

Our time together lasted long this time. It was the turn of the century when we met, we were just children, I was 5 you were 6. And we became close friends. “Inseparable,” as everyone in town liked to call it. I remember all the days we spent under that weeping willow just outside of town. Picking flowers, or blowing dandelions in the wind. Sometimes I wished for simple things. Money to buy a pastry from the bakery, or a pair of shoes I saw the shoemaker putting on display. But in my teenage years I almost always found myself asking the same question. “Please let her love me back.” 

I sometimes wondered if you wished the same thing. A few years later, my wish came true and we chose to be more than friends. I was 20 and you were 21 when we shared a kiss. I would never forget how soft your lips felt against mine. But things were soon going to test our love.

In 1914 the great war began. In 1915 it was right outside our town.

Our love was strong even as air crafts flew over our town dropping bombs. Our love was strong even as we stood in the middle of destruction. Our love was so strong when enemy soldiers grabbed us and forced us to kneel down with other survivors. They shot down the line killing everyone until it was just the two of us left. It was so easy to see what we meant to each other so the leader of the group played a game. A fucking game. “Eenie” the barrel of his gun pointed to you. “Meenie” it pointed to me. “Miney” back to you. He stretched it on and on and ON until he said the final “moe” and the barrel landed on you. 

I remember screaming. Remember him tell the other soldiers to hold me down. I was scared but you just smiled. You looked towards me and just smiled. Your lone silver eye piercing my very core. That gaze, that beautiful gaze, it always had a way of erasing my fears. That’s when you said it “we’ll find each other again.” I believed you. I had to believe you. I would always believe you.

You died first. And the last thing I remember was how wrong it felt.

1982

I was far older than you this time. The more decades that passed, the more convinced I was that I would never find you again. I sat in the gardens of the hospital, how curious it is knowing that you’ll die. They gave me three months to live. I craved your presence. What would you look like? Did you dying first in the last life break the chain? Would i never see you again? Would I be born again over and over cursed to never find you? Lost in my thoughts, a ball rolled towards me. Almost didn’t realize it at first but I could never forget that silver gaze. The child that came to retrieve the ball…. was you. Eight years old and just as sick as me. Was the universe laughing at us? Trying to finally separate us for good? For weeks we talked to each other. Right here in the gardens. You had the memories of past lives, but you were so young and you couldn’t understand what they meant. You called them “sad thoughts” memories of how you died in past lives would turn up in your dreams and it scared you. But you said once we met, they stopped. I enjoyed your company, but i hope you could forgive me for wondering what our time together would be like had we been the same age.

I remember always wondering how you died in our second lifetime. But maybe its better that I never asked.

One day you looked nervous. I asked what was wrong. You said you had a surgery in a few days, the doctors told you it would help your heart. I would grab your hand and squeeze, it was about the only thing I could manage to do for you in this lifetime. You looked up to me, your silver eyes pierced my very core, it was the first time I saw you without an eyepatch, there was such an innocence to them. I smiled and told you to everything would be okay…. and you believed me. 

A few days later I asked some nurses about you, about the child in Room 207. The somber looks on their face told me everything I needed to know. You died first again.

And this time you never said that we’ll find each other again.

2004

I sit in these college classes everyday. Lessons these professors teach barely process in my mind. In my philosophy class I always look down at the woman with dark red hair tied in a half bun, her eye patch, her breathtaking silver gaze. We pass each other in the halls, on campus. Her dorm is right next to mine.

Sometime’s when I pull up on my motorcycle at my spot on the campus parking lot, she is there. Talking with a friend. Some guy with blond hair. The first time we met she admired the paint job on my bike. She attempted to introduce herself. “By the way my name is-”

“Summer.” I said. Was I smiling? I think so. But I remember concern clouding my mind when she looked confused.

“How’d you know? Have we met before?”

I remember you. I remember all your past lives. I remember that child with the ball. The woman knelt in front of the barrel of a gun. The train robber that took on gun fire. The tailor’s apprentice. The heir to the Rose Kingdom. 

So why don’t you remember me?

[illegiblewords]

Notes under the cut!

Having made a lady WoL collection, I decided to do a dude one too. As before I have more, but not all are leveled and I have some I’m more attached to than others.

I do want to push for more range honestly--I’m not sure how I wound up with three midlander dudes and a highlander lol. I should really follow through with a male au ra, hrothgar, and lalafell. I did an odd green/brown hair hybrid that I suppose could qualify for brunette, but otherwise my tendencies toward black and blonde hair came through real strong. Mysteriously absent are redheads. I may also want to experiment more with color palettes and cultural influences a bit.

For the guys, there are spots where I played into job expectations and spots where I defied them. I wanted to try designing some characters in ways I hadn’t seen so much in-game, as well as designing characters who would immediately evoke a specific tone! There are also definitely jobs where I deliberately tried to show some traditional masculinity where it’s less expected, which was fun.

Cenric/Black Mage Midlander: People have criticized hyurs before by calling them “too vanilla”, since they’re the human stand-ins. I figure though, they’re hyurs. Hyurs are imaginary and don’t need to follow real world biology. Play with color palettes and features so you get a more definite fantasy look if you want to. With Cenric, I specifically tried to go super dark and de-saturated to evoke a walking silhouette (sort of like drow) and gave him the palest eyes possible with strategic face paint so they’d look like they glow. This was all in the name of making a character who evoked Final Fantasy’s classic black mage, just going in a more adult and extra spooky-goth direction.

Maerec/Dark Knight Midlander: Maerec, I designed specifically to both be a step off of the default midlander from commercials and to embody the Dark Knight questline as best I could. Giving him some edge visually while still feeling reasonably natural was fun to balance! To this end, I knew dark eyes would be important to helping the black hair fit in. Going with a very dark red I figure it almost seems like he could have brown eyes until you look closely. Making him feel very Ishgardian was also fun, with the horned helmet and Fray-esque glamour. I also designed him to both parallel and contrast with Lahabrea given their stories are intertwined. If there’s scattered angel/demon imagery between them that works even more.

Sublime Tiger/Samurai Hellsguard: I know that my natural inclinations go toward bishonens lmao, so figuring out the angle I wanted to work with the SUPER BEEFY male roegadyns was wild! One thing that gave me inspiration at the time was realizing that, with their black noses, Hellsguard roegadyns can 100% evoke big cats--among other animals. I usually prefer designing Sea Wolves for lacking the black noses because my impulse is for it either to be visually unified with the rest of the face/body or go without--so I often feel a bit more limited with what kind of designs I’ll do for Hellsguard. With Sublime Tiger, originally he had both orange and black striped hair (one of the styles available works it) as well as the black face paint evoking tiger stripes. I found the hair more limiting with helms though so made it pure black instead. Deciding what glamour would look good and play well with proportions was also a process--wanted him to feel like he’s from Othard since there is a big Hellsguard population there, so samurai made some sense to me in building that. After experimenting though, I wound up going with a look that took a bit of inspiration from One Thousand And One Nights. I have additional ideas for what I might try going forward though.

J’mor/Red Mage Miqo’te: This was a combination of a lot of ideas! One was wanting to embrace the physicality of red mage as a job, and explore it as a worldly kind of caster who works well with ease of movement and does a lot of darting around the battlefield. Mages in-general are often seen as kind of ivory tower sorts, and by shedding the usual frills I wanted to show that it’s possible to have a caster’s knowledge while being very connected to the world at large. Also give a strong sense of SWASHBUCKLER where the magic kind of slaps you in the face with additional power. I also noticed I hadn’t seen as many black male miqo’te in-general, along with fandom stereotypes about catboys as soft. So I decided to design J’mor with that in mind--playing him as a very shonen kind of hero while the beard brings an extra bit of hardness to his features.

Asah’zi/White Mage Miqo’te: Asah’zi is another case where I wanted to challenge the idea of male miqo’te as soft, and I added to that challenge by making him a white mage when that is often filled by lady characters. I was also interested, lore-wise, in the tension between Keeper of the Moon tribes and Gridania (where white magic has very strong ties). That Keepers of the Moon are also very matriarchal gave added interest for me making a more rough and traditionally masculine-feeling white mage sort, especially since Keepers often build a lot of their lives around hunting through the Twelveswood. I also wanted to bring some sense of druid into white mage as a job, given the nature ties. With Asah’zi, using skydruid skins, claws, a wooden cane, and on all contributed toward the vibe I wanted to build for him. Using emotes that show off his fangs helps bring a bit of cockiness to him too, which is fun. And stealing Thancred’s hair lets him have a bit of a roguish vibe lol.

Amir/Dancer Highlander: Like I said, I tend to go for bishonen-sorts in designs a lot. HOWEVER! I do love this highlander face type specifically a ton, and think guy highlander proportions are well-balanced overall while being beefy. I knew for a while that I had a specific design I liked a lot for male highlander with Amir, and I definitely wanted to do something with him. The choice to make him a dancer specifically came from a conversation I saw just after the job’s release. An IRL male hip hop dancer mentioned feeling a bit bummed out because a lot of the animations felt like they played more to softness/grace and traditional femininity, and he’d been hoping for the option of a little edge with battle dancing because that’s what he does. Some players said he should just play monk, others were kind of mean to him and acted like what he wanted was somehow shitty. I felt for the dude to be honest since he was coming from a place of feeling frustrated by stereotyping, so I decided to look at the animations and see how much they could be integrated into a design that felt more traditionally masculine. I saw a lot of bright greens (especially with the peacock feathers) so I tried to unify that with a green glamour. The mask reminds me of rave aesthetics a bit, and I’ve seen dudes wear shorts similar to the Nezha ones before. I’m a big fan of the idea that fashion can be a way to create what you want tonally, and I tried to explore that in this design.

Navarre/Paladin Midlander: At some point it hit me that I have been avoiding traditional knight-in-shining-armor looks like the plagues in my tanks lol. This made me think a fair bit. What struck me was that if the only thing a glamour has to say for itself is “this is a knight”, that doesn’t feel so interesting to me. If it’s supposed to be a knight in shining armor specifically though, bringing an almost angelic, elemental feeling to the look is something I’m 500% there for. And weirdly, people don’t seem to do this as much. I’m less used to paladins compared to dark knights, warriors, or even gunbreakers--and since paladins are so associated with that holy knight-vibe I figured it made sense to go that direction. While I was looking into glamours, one thing I found was that a lot of them dyed with unchanging patches of black, had edgy red woven in, or otherwise came across as having been designed with dark knight or warrior in-mind. I decided part of what I’d do in this instance was really make a Warrior of Light who immediately screamed “yes I am the Warrior of Light” when you looked at him, and took inspiration from Cecil Harvey from Final Fantasy IV toward that end too. Every piece in this glamour was carefully picked not just for whether it worked as a silhouette, but also how it would dye.

Cesaire/Dragoon Elezen: Cesaire has gone through a lot of design phases. Initially he was a red elezen, because it’s a direction I don’t see used a lot but has a very doable fantasy feel I think is fun. Then he was a champagne/cream color all over as inspired by a particular breed of horses. Now, having put a lot of thought in, he is deep gold with blue eyes. The underlying concept for him was that I wanted to make a golden dragoon who looks like he should be terribly heroic, but then in practice he’s a kind of blood knight WoL who is about as close to Zenos as a Warrior can get without going outright evil. I played into gold and more general adventuring gear for the reason that I think Cesaire has absolutely left Ishgard behind him, and strongly prefers to be someone defined by what they do rather than where they’re from. Given elezens’ wide shoulders I also had to think about what combinations would work for balancing proportions, and I wanted Cesaire to visually hold his own visual niche within my overall Famfrit lineup so a lot was chosen with that in mind.

[singeramg]

Finding Forever: Chapter 1

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Black Original Character

Rating: Explict/ M/ Whatever...will be smut later on. 

Warnings: Cursing, eventual smut, some angst, more tags to come as we get into this. 

Summary: Aura Camilla an actress who has just landed her first lead role opposite Henry Cavill. This story follows her as she tries to navigate her fast developing feelings for her costar. 

A/N: Welcome everyone, so this is my first time attempting to write anything involving Henry Cavill, so y'all bare with me and be nice (Please) Also blame The Witcher for this sudden interest. . I hope you guys will like it and I promise it will get better as we go along. I don’t have any idea of how long this will be. I welcome comments and suggestions.

  Chapter 1: All this Love

“I have everything I need ummm....I think.”

I said to my best friend Mia who was laying across my bed, her hair a black/ white/grey ombré dreads that reached the middle of her back of her chestnut frame. She was mindless playing with one of the furry ivory pillows I had on my bed. 

“Well Aura considering you’ve packed and repacked that bag several times I highly doubt you forgot anything. Shit I’m quite sure you’ve packed the entirety of your room.”

She said with a smirk, then went back to scrolling on her phone. I laughed, flipping her off, and zipping my bag closed. 

“Are you ready to drive me to the airport?”

“The real question is are you ready to go?”

She said getting up from my bed and sliding into her shoes. 

“Come bring your ass on...”

I said with a laugh, hauling my suitcase off of bed and out of my room in our shared apartment...

 ⭐️*** 

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I had just checked into my room on location for the movie I had just landed. I had done some parts in television and movies, supporting characters. This would be the first time I played a lead, it was a romantic comedy. All set around a neurotic late 20 something named Anya Novak that spent her life doing everything for everyone else but never going after what she wants. Her job merges with another and in enters the new guy Carson Wyatt who rubs her the wrong way when they first meet and even more so when she figures out he is her new neighbor. 

I could handle the role, I was certain of that but I was nervous because I hadn’t met anyone from the cast yet. The filming schedule was coming off the heels of filming a big movie for not only the directors but for my co-star Henry Cavill. I had been surprised when they said he would be joining the cast as this type of movie didn’t seem like his type that he would be in. It had very little action and a lot of comedic timing. I was nervous that he and I would not get along at all and make this filming unbearable. We were due to start filming in a day or so but tonight we were set to all meet and have dinner. 

I unpacked my clothes and now found myself standing in front of my closet much like I would at home, except now I didn’t have Mia to help me choose. I would settle for FaceTime.

“ It’s Mia the Mua of your dreams.”

“Yeah my nightmares too. Best friend I need help and I need it fast. Cast dinner in two hours with no clue and what to put on out of all the shit you packed me to wear.”

“Where is the dinner?”

“ Small gastropub, nothing too fancy but I want to make a good impression.”

“Yeah maybe on that foine ass co-star of yours.”

“Mi let’s not go there.”

“You need to let him go there with your uptight ass. Been moving around here for months, working too hard with no play. Especially since Jamal.”

“Ugh, god you said the name. I thought we agreed that name was dead.”

“ I agreed not to beat his ass for that shit he pulled, but that’s all. Now onto what you called for. Dark wash jeans, white and black sheer top, black heels. Light on the makeup, soft curls on the hair.”

“Remind me again why you couldn’t come with me.”

“I might style you in my free time but unlike you my jetsetting darling I still have to deal with my lazy ass ultra extra Ulta manager. At least until you need me full time.”

“But I do this is the problem. I told you to get on the plane with me but no. You didn’t.”

“I’m working on it, you know my manager asked me to hold off on my leave until she came back from vacation. Look don’t worry about me I’ll be there is two weeks you can survive two weeks before I arrive,  just get dressed, go make some friends, and relax because I know you are freaking out and doing yourself a disservice. Remember our saying...”

“Beautiful is who you are not what you are.”

Mia and I repeated at the same time as we had since middle school. In a school where the people didn’t look like us with Mia’s cinnamon tone and my sienna color paired with braids and thick dark hair, didn’t make us popular in a world of blonde hair and blue eyes. We made due as we got older, at 25 we kept that motto as a reminder to love ourselves no matter what.

“Aura go out there and make those people love as much as I do.” 

I sniffed back a few tears and felt grateful for the type of friend I had.

“Thank you Mia.”

“Always. Now I gotta go. I was supposed to be at work ten minutes ago.”

We laughed and hung up...

⭐️Later

I dressed in what Mia said to put on, stepping from the cab, grateful for us filming in the springtime in Canada, despite the nighttime, the air was moderate. The restaurant was lit in a dim light but bright enough to see the faces. I stepped in and the hostess upon hearing the name of the party I was with smile brightened up and walked me to a secluded room to the back of the restaurant. As soon as I entered the directors Marshall and Anne a married couple for whom this was a passion project. We instantly clicked during my audition and subsequent talking they were really nice to me.

“Aura! I’m glad you made it!”

Anne said standing and pulling me into hug, Marshall following shortly after. 

“Yes please come in, have a seat. There’s an open seat left next to Henry.”

I smiled and looked to the room where all the men stood on my arrival as custom dictated, and my eyes landed on the 6’1 dark haired gentleman I had been anxious to meet. Marshall walked me to the other side of the table where Henry was standing.

“Henry meet your co-star Aura Camilla. Aura please meet Henry Cavill.”

He had a look on his face that I honestly couldn’t place, but once Marshall made introductions a wide grin broke across his face, and he offered a hand out to me. I took it and we shook, with him seeming to stare at my face my hazel eyes locking with his blue. 

“Pleasure to meet you Henry. Big fan of your work.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well Aura. I’m excited to be working with you as well.”

It was then that I guess he realized he was still holding my hand and he let go quickly only to pull out my chair, nervously, actually tripping over the edge of the chair slightly but not falling. The cool persona he had to world, out the window for a split moment, but that was okay because I liked it...

*The next day* 

I was sitting in the make-up artist chair, as they worked to make me look as scripted for our first scene. I was going over my lines when I heard the door to the trailer opened and closed, the next to me groaning under the new weight in it. I smiled when I realized who was now occupying the chair.

“Good morning Aura. Sleep well I hope?”

Henry looked fresh, wearing sweatpants and a black zipped-up hoodie. No product in his hair, and freshly shaved as opposed to the light stubble he sported yesterday night. Honestly we got along really well, which was a relief in terms of working. We actually vibed during our talking last night. He was a breath of fresh air in this industry to have a conversation with a man who wasn’t talking to my boobs.  We just laughed and joked most of the night, leaving off with him agreeing to help me out in the gym, I also think I left feeling like my soft admiration for a man I didn’t know to a man I kinda knew to a real world potential crush that could crush me and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

So now here I was sitting next to a man that I was attracted to. I could smell the trouble brewing.

“Yes, I did. It’s always a little difficult getting used to sleeping in a bed that’s not my own.”

“I have the same problem. Takes me a few days to adjust to the time change and a different bed. I am usually up all night until then despite being tired from a long day. I find that working out helps me get back on track, if not watch some television.”

“Yeah I’m more the type to watch TV or a movie and I’m out like a light. Thank god we don’t have a super early call time for the first couple of weeks.” 

“You ready to go out there and hate my guts on screen?”

“Sure, as long as you are ready to hate mine.”

“I am going to have to put my acting skills to the test. This would be easier if you were a horrible person.”

“Excuse me for not being a drag on your life Cavill. I think this would be easier for me too if you hadn’t endeared me to your dog and told me about your terrible bullying experience. I can’t actually hate you now.”

We laughed along with those in the trailer and as I was ushered into wardrobe I had to cut off those butterflies in my stomach and focus on doing my job....

A/n: So tell me what you think? If you want to read more let me know. Thank you for taking the time to read this little piece of crap I managed lol

[sup-hoes-its-me]

With Time II (Tobirama x Reader)

A/N: sup. Tbh I'm surprised I got this far. I didn't think I would finish part one lol. I don’t want to spoil this so just read it and have lots of fun guys!!!!

word count: 4731

Part One/Part Two/Part Three 

I rushed into the Hokage's office, my mind running mad with thoughts and fears. News ran past me that my best friend, Hashirama Senju, was injured. Fatally.

Tears threatened to burn down my cheeks, but I held them in. I kept grasping at hope, even if it was a miniscule source; I wanted him to be okay. I wanted the shinobi I bumped into in the street to be wrong; that he wasn't actually there to see their godlike Hokage fall.

The door was ajar and I shoved through. There sat Tobirama. He was alone, in the grand chair behind the desk. His head was downcast but his eyes were firm. They stared deeply at his clenched fists. His face singed with pain and anger and confusion and everything you would expect from someone like him suffering loss.

Tentatively through my labored breaths, I asked, “Tobi...Tobirama, is Hashirama-”

And he shook his head, a soft ‘tsk’ falling from his lips.

A sob left my body, and I felt my entire body start to crumble. Hands ran feverishly through my hair as I processed everything, as I realized I would never see him again. My best friend was gone. Tobirama's brother was gone. That stupid, meddling, gambling, great shinobi of a man I grew up beside was gone.

It all happened so fast.

My heart sped up and my face felt like it was so red it would burst. I clutched at my chest, right above my heart, desperately trying to calm myself, to lessen this agony.

“How did this happen? Hashi was the best, the greatest ninja to ever live! How? What? I-I…” I gasped. I peered up into his eyes, his red eyes that were solemn, but so lost. My lips quivered and my body shook and my eyes dropped salty tears, so different from his strong facade.

I walked toward the desk and collapsed in the chair beside him, the one I sat in for work each morning. My knees brushed his, and I felt desperate for human touch. Intimacy from someone to comfort me. After years of being alone, I felt like I needed someone more than ever.

My hand rest upon his now. My cold ones on his warm ones. He felt them shaking and quivering and lifted one to rub mine. His thumbs turned circles on my fingers and the back of my hand. I pressed my other hand to my face and cried into my hands nearly screaming because of the pain I felt in my chest.

“Y/N, listen. My brother fought valiantly, but the jinjuriki and the Uchiha - they just…”

“I just can't believe he's gone. I loved him, Tobi. I-I've loved him like a brother for so long.”

He nodded, but his lips never failed to turn down from that stern look without emotion. “I have lost the last of my brothers today, and it hurts me more than you can imagine, Y/N,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb just slightly, like a feather, over my knuckles, sending shivers up my arm. His eyes turned up to look into mine, forcing my into his own world for a moment. “But until this war is won, we must defend those of us who still hold our livelihoods.”

“But, Tobi, I-I can’t just work after something like-”

“I know, Y/N. But listen, tomorrow we will have a funeral service for my brother and you may mourn. If you must take time off, you can do so as you wish. But you will report back to be my right hand when you are well enough,” he said tentatively. He seemed so strong in moments like these, ones that he held back his tears, ones I know he wanted to let fall so badly.

He would be strong for his people. He would be strong for me.

I peered up at him, shock no doubt spread across my features. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. “You want me to be your right hand? You mean, like I was to Hashi? Surely you don’t mean…”

He raised a rough, calloused hand, his fingers curling under my chin delicately. My lips still quivered as tears dripped down my chin onto his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only closed his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath, then spoke in that deep, entrancing voice I’d grown so accustomed to.  

“In times like these, you hold onto the ones you have,” he confessed, voice rough and low under his breath. “I want you around me so I know you’re safe, Y/N.”  His eyes were sincere and his lips moved with a precision that he really knew what he meant to say.

I bit my lip and nodded, shutting my eyes to avoid his gaze. It was too much. Too overwhelming and full of care and admiration and this little bit of something else that I couldn’t place. I just...these feelings were drowning me.

He let his hand slide from my chin to my cheek and then down my neck to rest gently on my shoulder. I never thought I would feel a faint touch from this warrior of a man. Yet, he was showing me a new side of him: a soft, vulnerable one.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I collapsed in his arms, burying my nose in his shirt and clutching handfuls of his coat in my fists. The sobs that left my lips were muffled by the fabric but I knew the tears would stain.  

“Why does it have to be like this, Tobi? Why do we have to lose so many people we love?” I cried. He sighed, pulling my shaking body to his chest, his strong arms around my shoulders, one hand pressed to the back of my head while the other rubbed circles to my back. “Why, Tobi, why? Why did Hashi have to die?”

“The life of a shinobi is not easy. Nor is loving someone; I fear it’s the most dangerous of all,” the man said into my ear. In that moment, I knew he was right.

_________________________

Life was difficult for a while after the death of my best friend. I struggled to grasp my life without seeing him every morning when I came to work, instead being blandly greeted by a firm Tobirama who was consumed by the war and developing the village for his people. These two men, these noble brothers, although they both would die for their people, could not be any more different.

But time heals all wounds. That's what everyone says. And I suppose it did. I grew happy again, and I could function without falling into a pit of loathing.

I sat in my room on the edge of my bed, pinning up the last strands of hair into my bun sitting atop my head. Today was a celebration, the first big one we've had in years because of this war. The first Hokage's eldest son was celebrating the birth of his second child and the village was throwing a huge party for him.

Tsunade was being done up by her grandmother, Mito who was a good friend of mine. She would be wearing a cute little kimono with pink and blue flowers on it, even though she loathed the fancy attire.

Another exciting thing, as well as stressful, factor about this party was the fact that people from Kirigakure would also be visiting. It was not only for the grandson but also diplomatic reasons. I was nervous, and worried something terrible would happen while they were here, heightening tensions further between our villages.

But I decided to take deep breaths and just work on making myself presentable. As the hand of the Hokage, I had to seem modest within reason. Surely Tobi would be dressed in armour or something of the sort like usual, which he always looked nice in.

After checking my appearance in the mirror for the hundredth time tonight, I visibly grimaced. Wearing an Ao Dai, having pink flowers in my hair and delicate ivory pins, and feeling the make up on my face, it all made me feel weird and gross. I felt so out of place. I would never wear something like this.

I wore shorts and fishnet, and normally had bandages wrapped around my arms and my thighs. I normally looked like a shinobi but today I looked like a woman. Those two aren't mutually exclusive but it felt that way.

I bit my lip and sucked up the courage to leave my apartment, shutting the door behind my and throwing the key into my pocket. It was all going to be okay. As long as no one stared at me. I would be fine. I was sure no one would stare anywhere. Far more women were there with beautiful faces and bodies, lovely young women who could easily show me up.

The streets leading to the village center was illuminated by beautiful lanterns and twinkling candles hanging from buildings and lampposts. It was gorgeous and I made a mental note to applaud Mito for her decorating later tonight. As I thought, no one bothered to spare me a glance as I walked down the somewhat crowded street.

That is, until I arrived in front of the Hokage’s tower in the center of town. From where I was, I could make out the ever beautiful features of Mito, her long red hair hanging in delicate twirls and her kimono more than immaculate. She was standing with Tobirama, discussing something in hushed voices so that I couldn’t hear from where I stood, regardless of how good my shinobi hearing allowed.

The woman peered over his shoulder and smiled, waving to me. She tapped his shoulder and told him something to which he tensed, I could see it in the way his shoulders turned in on themselves. As I closed the space between my friends and I, the warrior turned around to face me.

If I was moment late, I would have missed the look to glaze over his eyes.

His red eyes widened just enough, in a way I’d never seen on him before. He scanned my form, taking me in like a long drink of water; although, I highly doubted I was at all refreshing. He straightened out his shoulders and instinctively stood taller, prouder. His hands hung almost limply by his sides, as if he had  no idea whether to raise them to greet me or shove them in his pockets like usual.

He looked at me like no one else had. I might be delusional, and I might just be saying this because I’ve craved the feeling for so long...but Tobirama - The man looked at me as if I were something special. Something to be beloved.

And I feared I was looking at him the same way. He was strong and tall, and so proud of what he and his brother had done. He was a hero in his own right, a tragic one at that. My eyes couldn’t help but scan over his figure: the curves of his muscles through shirt, the sharpness of his jawline and the lifts in his cheekbones, the sternness in his eyes, and the broadness of his chest under his traditional armor.

“Tobi, you look-’

“Y/N, I-

Both of us spoke at the same time, and silenced each other. My cheeks dared to turn red, and I scolded myself. I was not a child, I was a grown woman who did not blush. It wasn’t something I would be shameful enough to do. Swiftly, I tore my eyes away from him and glanced at my shaking hands, my calloused fingers suddenly much more interesting than anything else.

I spoke so softly to him, embarrassed, “Sorry. I, um, what were you going to say?”

“It’s not important. What is it you wanted to say?”

Now that I thought about what I was going to tell him, that he looked wonderful tonight, I felt incredibly self conscious. I shook my head and bit my lip nervously. “It’s not very important either, I guess.”

“I’m sure whatever you have to say is nothing less than important.”

“You’re the Hokage though. Doesn’t that make what you say more important that what I have to say?”

“Not at all. You seem to forget you’re just as crucial to this village as I am.”

“Tobirama, really, you don’t have to say silly things like that.”

“Silly?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m basically just a secretary-”

“Advisor and friend, clearly. Nothing close to a secretary, Y/N.”

Just as I was about to disagree, Mito broke our train of conversation, a soft smile on her features and an amused gleam clear in her eyes. “As much as I love listening to the two of you struggle to compliment each other, you two have some diplomatic matters to take care of, yes? The Mizukage and his bodyguard is approaching you from the left.”

I  gaped at her as she turned to walk away. We were doing nothing of the sort, were we? I highly doubt it. Tobirama would never compliment anyone, especially me, unless it was absolutely necessary. The redhead walked away before I could even protest what she had said.

Tobirama grabbed my wrist and yanked me around so I faced the other way and then quickly released me. I would have questioned him and his abruptness, only to be met with the kind faces of the Mizukage and his guard, although with the amount of sheer power the Mizukage possessed he would barely need assistance under threat.

“Senju, it’s an honor to see you again after the peace talks,” Byakuren greeted, and Tobirama nodded his head in reply. The elderly man tilted his eyes in my direction and observed my face, his eyes seemingly digging into my soul. He wasn’t exactly a trusting man, I knew this, but I also had nothing to hide from him. “And I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure to meet you, young lady. Forgive me.”

“It’s really fine, Mizukage Sir. I’m not normally one to travel with the Hokage.”

“I presume you are the Senju’s wife, or at least promised?”

I blinked, my cheeks at this point flaring a bright fiery red. Frantically, I shook my head from side to side, unable to bring words to my lips. My tongue wasn’t working and my throat seemed to close up? Did Tobirama and I look like husband and wife? Is that the impression we gave off? I wanted to die.

Thankfully Tobirama came to my rescue. “This is actually my most trusted advisor, Hatake Y/N. She has been like family for ages.”

“Ah, I see. I could have been fooled,” he said, and in my mind, I almost thought he was teasing the two of us. I brushed off the thought quickly as absurd and bowed to him respectfully, “It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Hatake.”

“And it’s a great honor to finally meet you, Sir. I’ve heard many stories of your impressive jutsu.”

He smiled. “And I assume for you to have gained the trust of the Senju family, especially this boy here, you must be quite the kunoichi.”

“Please, Mizukage Sir. I’m mediocre at the best of times. I am merely a friend of the family. Tobi flatters me.”

He quirked a brow, and I heard my companion silently curse me under his breath, his elbow going to jab me in the side. “Tobi? Pet names for each other, correct? Again, I’m shocked the pair of you are not an item. You look beautiful together, if I may say.”

I had no words in my throat to reply to that. Tobirama and I were merely friends, and this old man was making me question myself and my decisions. I peered up at my friend with a slack jaw and a curious look in my eye, to which he ignored with a grimace. Instead, he waved his hand and motioned to the Hokage tower. “That’s enough, Byakuren. I suggest we begin our diplomatic discussions inside my office as soon as possible, while the night is still young.”

“I suppose that would be best. Guide the way, Senju.”

Tobirama began making his way to the staircase, but when I started to follow after him, he sent me a look. It wasn’t angry nor threatening, it was simply pleading. It asked me to stay put, to enjoy the party while he took care of business. Both of us knew that if I were to follow the three men that there would be more implied romantic relations discussed and it would only further embarrass the both of us.

“I think I’m going to stay here and see if Mito needs any help with Tsunade. Is that okay with you, Tobirama?” I asked politely.

“That’s fine. We all know how Tsunade can be after all.” With that we sent each other one last look before turning out backs and heading in opposite directions. And despite no longer being around the man anymore, I still couldn’t appease the red staining my face and my ears.

Mito was just across the road, sitting at a tea stand enjoying a steaming cup of something, probably jasmine. It was always her favorite from what Hashi told me.

She raised her eyes from the cup to me when I approached, scurrying in her direction like a little girl. “Mito, something strange just happened. I, uh, I don’t know how to respond to it,” I confessed the moment I stood close enough to her that not many people could hear.

She smiled and quirked a questioning brow. “Does it have to do with Tobirama?”

“Yes- wait how did you…? Ugh, I don’t even want to know,” I groaned, pressing my hand to my forehead. “Do you think Tobirama and I look like a couple? Be completely honest because I need genuine advice here.”

“You two seem very close, definitely,  but it’s mostly the way Tobirama holds himself in your presence, Y/N.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, staring into her intense eyes, ones that held such maturity. I really admired her, and I would probably believe anything she told me. “Tobirama doesn’t act any different. He’s always all stern and grumpy, and you know it.”

“Actually, I think you’re just blind to the starkness, dear. He’s shown you his vulnerable side more times than you realize. He cares about you, and holds himself with more pride with you by his side. You’re extremely important to him, to what extent, I’m not sure yet.” The woman tapped the edge of her teacup softly with her fingertips. “I’m beginning to suspect you harbor your own affections for my brother-in-law, no?”

“Mito, please! Keep your voice down. Do you understand what controversy would erupt if people thought I was involved with their Hokage?” I said, my voice hushed to keep from getting looks and attracting listening ears.

“But you do?”

I shook my head, but there were still a thousand thoughts running through my mind, many of them being strong doubts. I was confused myself, how would I answer her question? I blurt out before I could think much, “I-I don’t know! He’s no doubt an attractive man, and incredibly intelligent. He’s always been a friend of mine ever since we were children, and I do enjoy his company, but that could mean anything. I could simply think of him as a friend, right?”

She let out a soft laugh, her free hand rising to rest on my shoulder comfortingly. “I can’t speak for your heart, Y/N, but I suspect you may find yourself having stronger feelings for him than you think. I didn’t know I was in love with Hashirama until my mother knocked some sense into me.”

“Love?” The word echoed in my head as it left my lips.

“I’m not saying you love him yet, not at all. I just think the two of you care for each other much more than you think. You are a bit more aware than he is, though,” she laughed. “He’s a very dense guy, really. Women go right over his head.”

“You’re right. Mito, you are such a great friend. This helped a lot.”

I slipped my arm out of her touch and moved back, straightening out my Ao dai and brushing off the invisible dust bits. But before I could say goodbye and go to find something else to occupy my mind, she caught me midstep.

“Tonight, there’s going to be dancing around midnight. The village would love to see their Hokage dance to one song, I’m sure, and he will need a partner.”

I took what she said to heart. Maybe Tobirama and I could dance under the moonlight tonight, and it would make me realize just how much I cared for him. Only, he never left the tower that night and I didn’t see him until morning. I guess some things aren’t meant to be.

_____________________________

Tobirama was tirelessly working on academy paperwork and assignments when the door burst open across from his desk. The day was long and tedious, and he felt as if it would never end. Truthfully, he had been subconsciously wishing for something exciting to take place.

He would regret that wish.

The door burst open and the wood slammed into the wall behind it. There in the doorway stood a frantic Sarutobi, the man who was supposed to be with Y/N on an important mission. His shirt was stained in red and there were burn marks on the edges of his sleeves and the hem of his collar, soot against his cheek and neck.

Immediately, the Hokage stood to his feet and stared intensely at the man who seemed fine himself, but decorated with the wounds of someone else.

“Hiruzen, what happe-”

“Hokage-sama, it's Y/N.” His heart dropped in his chest.

And his fears were indeed confirmed.

Quickly he rounded his desk and pushed past his pupil in the threshold of his office, his eyes trained straight ahead. He seemed firm, yet he was barely holding himself together internally. His heart clenched in his chest at the thought of the woman being hurt or worse, dying there without him having done anything to save her.

“Where is she?”

“Her ninkin. He took her to the infirmary. But, Hokage, she wasn't looking good and-”

“That's enough,” Tobirama said.

When he arrived at the infirmary, the nurses knew why he was there. They could see the solemn look in his face and the strange desperation in his eyes, and it all was as clear as day to anyone else. He was worried. Concerned out of his mind for one little kunoichi who had made her way into the heart of the Senju.

Her room was so cold. He stepped inside and immediately wanted to leave. It felt like death reigned.

And she just lay there in the bed, her body wrapped in bandages andher forehead covered by a wet towel. The monitor attached to her arm beeped slowly, and each time it did, he felt his stomach churn uncomfortably once again.

Her faithful nin sat on the edge of her bed, his head resting on her legs as he stared at her face.

“I knew you would come, Senju. Sit down. Your brooding in the doorway is not pleasant,” the dog spoke quietly, firm but oh so tired and pained.

He walked close to her side and let out a single tight breath. She looked too pale for comfort, and the heat she normally radiated was too faded. He never thought he would see the day she would be reduced to this. He thought he lost everyone, he failed to remember that Y/N was just as vulnerable.

“I should have been there to protect her. She's been weak since Hashirama passed.”

“And you have been an utter fool. Sending your lover and a fifteen year old child alone on a risky mission in the middle of a war?” The nin argued, not daring to raise his head to peer at him. He didn't need to. He was already aware of his guilt; it wafted from him like a foul stench. “Have you lost your mind, or do you just not give a shit about Y/N?”

The man sighed, shutting his eyes and leaning back in the chair by her bedside. He wanted to curse the heavens and then scream at the top of his lungs till he couldn't breathe anymore. This was all his fault; maybe Popo was right.

No. He wasn't right about any of it. Tobirama would never do anything to hurt Y/N, but he wasn't thinking. He wasn't thinking when he sent his student, who he thought he could trust completely out with a shinobi, his best friend, who was injured and broken.

He made a mistake, but he never meant to hurt her. Something screamed to him, like he was being scolded, and it burned. He felt hot and freezing cold, like he was being scorched alive. That was how guilt felt, and death seemed better than this. Anything seemed better than this torture on his heart.

“What happened?” It was all he could say. All he could think to muster.

“Sunagakure got to them. Their jinjuriki attacked her, and she just barely made it out alive, if not for Sarutobi and all her summons.”

Of course it would be Suna. Ever since the other villages accused them of being greedy and foul when asking for reparations at the peace talks, the two villages hadn't remained pleasant. The war was brutal and there were casualties.

Tobirama reached out with a single rough hand, taking her delicate fingers in his. If only he could have done something. He felt angry and pathetic and terrible as a leader and friend.

Her hand was freezing to the touch as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. They were read and swollen, most likely from throwing punches. Her face was scratched and bruised, a very real bump protruding from just above her temple. His free hand skimmed over her cheek and her bumps and bruises, touch so light it was hard to keep from shaking.

“Did the medics say when she will be better?”

“Could take weeks, could take months. They don't know. She should wake up within the day, but she could be out of commission for a long time. A lot or her ribs are broken and a few of them punctured lungs. Her right leg is broken and her ankle is completely shattered.” The mutt told him exactly what the doctors had told him.

“I can never forgive myself for letting this happen to her.”

“As much as I would prefer the two of you avoid each other for her health, I have to say, she would never blame you for what happened. She cares for you far too much.”

“This is unforgivable.”

“Unfortunately, Y/N has never been one for absolutes, Senju.”

Tobirama didn't reply to that, instead took to staring down hopelessly as the woman who has slipped her way into his mind so long ago with her strange smiles and curious words. He had memorized each and every curve of her face a long time ago. The dip in her cheeks and the curl of her lashes and even the plumpness of her bottom lip. He wanted to trace his fingers over each precious feature, but settled for holding her cheek in his resting palm.

He held her hand just a bit tighter with a longing threatening to drip from his lips. He wished to whisper how he was sorry to her deaf ears, promise he would never let her get hurt again and he would always be by her side.

Yet, he said nothing. He bit his tongue and just observed, memorized.

“You love her. You always have, Tobirama.”

And for some reason, the man couldn't find it in his heart to deny those words.

[eternalnight8806-3]

Ch 3 The Cat and the Fox

Category: Romance, Modern College AU

Rating: Will be Explicit but for now I’ll just say Mature for language and drinking

Pairing: InuKag

Words: 2,357

Also available on ff.net and AO3

Tag list: @keichanz @noviceotakus-blog @hinezumi @morikothehalfangel @cstorm86 @digital-art-monster @cammysansstuff

Enjoy!

 Hey, I have a kind of personal question for you

InuYasha rubbed his tired eyes and stretched. He had been staring at his laptop for the last 3 hours straight trying to finish this damn midterm paper. The sound of his phone buzzing caught his attention. Who the hell would be texting him at 2 a.m.? Miroku was downstairs with the other idiots watching some stupid Netflix show he never could get into about a women's prison. The goofy grin that spread across his face upon seeing her name was completely accidental, or so he would tell you.

 Shoot

 What happened to your mom? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just sitting here thinking about it and I realized you never told me how she died. But it's totally fine if you don't want to tell me. I swear.

InuYasha almost laughed out loud at her obvious text babbling. It's cool. She had breast cancer.

 Oh sweetie I'm so sorry. It must have been so hard to lose her that way.

 Honestly, it wasn't long after her diagnosis. She was already stage 4 by the time they caught it. They tried everything they could but a month later she was gone. It was hard. Still is. I miss her a lot. She was my rock

 Yeah. I don't know what I would do without my mom. She's the kindest woman ever. She's always supported me in everything. You never mentioned your dad though?

 He died when I was a baby. I never knew him.

 Wow.

 Yeah. Hey what are you doing up anyway? I thought you had to work this weekend?

 I do. Couldn't sleep. My brain just won't shut off.

 Missed me that much in 24 hours?

 You're incorrigible

 Always

 You don't have a humble bone in your body do you?

 Maybe one

     *    eyeroll emoji      *  

 What time do you have to be up?

 In exactly 2.5 hours. I have to catch the 5:45 train to get there on time.

 Jesus woman! Go to sleep!

 I already told you I can't

 Do I need to come over and sing you a lullaby?

InuYasha regretted that the instant he hit send. She would definitely think he was total creepy bastard now.

 Lol. You don't know where I live

He hesitated before typing again. Fine. I'll call you. I hope you like shitty renditions of twinkle twinkle little star.

     *    a series of crying laughing emojis      *  

 Can't be worse than my little brother trying to sing to our cat Buyo.

 You have a brother?

 Yep

 Me too. Well a ½ brother. Older. And an asshole.

 Oh yeah? Ever talk to him?

 Not really. Like I said he's an asshole.

 Got it. Foxy doesn't like his big bro

InuYasha's eyebrow quirked. Foxy?

 Ummm... yeah???

 What is that?

 Ummmm

 Your name?

 Is it now wench? ;)

 Ha. Ha.

 Hey, what do you call me?

 Catwoman

 I suppose that makes sense.

 Why do you call me Foxy? ;)

 Because of your       costume  

 Suuuuuuure

 You're obviously delusional

 Am I?

 Severely.

 Well you're the one talking to me at 2:45 in the morning

 Yeah. I know. I need a padded room next to yours

 So I can sing twinkle twinkle for you?

 OMG stop! I'm going to wake up my room mate!

 Sorry...

 You really should get some sleep wench.

 I know.

 Night Foxy

 Night wench

InuYasha couldn't sleep after that. He felt guilty for keeping her up, even though she had texted him first. Inane images scrolled past his eyes as he delved into the internet black hole, searching for something to occupy his mind. Finally, when he realized it was about 5 minutes past the time she said she had to be awake, he decided to make sure she had gotten up ok.

 Wakey wakey wench

Kagome groaned aloud at the sound of her alarm. She tried to roll over and go back to sleep but then her phone dinged.

 Don't wanna

 C'mon. You gotta. That job you love so much is beckoning

 Damn you

 You're cranky in the morning ain't ya?

 Only for people who won't let me sleep

 But you have to go babysit brats

 Uggggh. Fine. I'm up. Happy?

 Are you actually up? Like out of bed?

 Kagome put her feet on the floor next her bed.  Yes...

 Don't believe you

She sent him a picture of her feet on the floor.

 Sexy

 Shut up jerk

 Get ready for work wench

 I would if someone would quit distracting me

 I'm distracting huh? ;)

 You're maddening

 Only for you wench

 I'm getting dressed now

 I'll be right over

 Ha. Ha.

 Again, I remind you, you don't know where I live

 I'll sniff it out

 Very funny

 Seriously, I'm up and getting dressed now

 Go back to sleep

She pulled off her nightclothes and tossed them in the direction of her hamper as she made her way over to the closet. Pulling out a sweater and jeans, she made her way back over to the bed where she'd laid her phone.

 Never did

 What? Why?

 Just distracted

Kagome wasn't sure what to make of that, so she decided to ignore it as she pulled the jeans up over her hips. Then go to sleep. Weirdo.

 Only after I know you get to work ok

 You're nuts. I won't get there for another hour!

 So?

 Go to sleep.

 Nope. Gotta know you're safe.

The sweater made it's way over her head and down to her waist. Overprotective much? She grabbed her hairbrush and set to work on her tangled mane.

 Only of cheeky wenches

 Oh now I'm cheeky?  The hairbrush returned to her nightstand.

 Yep

Kagome picked up her purse and keys before quietly exiting her room. I'm leaving now. Go to sleep

 I told you, not til you're at work

Kagome didn't respond during her 20 minute walk to the subway station. She hoped he would fall asleep waiting for her to text back. No such luck.

 Oi wench! Where'd you go?

 To the train

 Hahaha

 Cheeky wench

 You on the train?

 I am now.

 Good. How long of a ride is it?

 20ish minutes

 What do you normally do on the train at too damn early o'clock?

 Lol. Well, listen to music, or read. Sometimes I people watch but there aren't too many people on the train this early on Sunday.

 People watch?

 Yeah. People will do the weirdest things when they think no one is watching them. I've seen people practically doing it right in front of me before

 Doing what exactly? ;)

 Shut up

 Never wench

 You make it too easy

 Do I now?

 Yep.

 Will you just go to sleep?

 You at work?

 No

 Then I'm gonna go with no

 How did I see that coming?

 Idk maybe because I've said it like 1000 times already

 Alright alright I get it.

 '  Now approaching 10      th     street station' came the automated voice over the loudspeaker. Kagome stood and slid her phone into her pocket to keep it from falling out of her hand as she exited the train. Since the station was nearly deserted it was easy for her to maneuver her way out to the street to make the short walk to work. Once outside, she saw that the sun was now fully on the horizon, creating beautiful hues of pink and orange. Stopping for a moment, she smiled and took it all in. The crisp autumn air whipped her raven locks around her shoulders. Seeing the sun between the trees, Kagome couldn't resist the urge to snap a photo with her phone and send it to her new self-proclaimed watchdog.

 Isn't it so beautiful Foxy?

 Just like you wench ;)

Kagome snorted as she walked and texted at the same time. You don't know what I look like

 Sure I do. Long black silky hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, ivory skin. See? I know

 Still, you've not seen my face

 Don't have to

She didn't know how to respond to that. Lucky for her though, she rounded the last corner before coming up to Yoro North's front door. She took a picture of her hand opening said door and sent it to him.

 All safe. Please sleep now? I'd feel awful if you didn't get any sleep because of me

 Not your fault wench. I'm a big boy. But I promise I'll close my eyes now. Have a good day at work.

 Thanks Foxy. Sweet dreams!

Kagome tucked her phone back into her pocket as she walked right past Ayame's death glare without giving the girl a second glance. As she stepped around the corner to make her way back to the classroom, she found herself cemented smack dab into Koga's chest.

“Whoa there, sweetheart!” He said as he grabbed her shoulders and gently pulled her back. “You alright?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Kagome shook her head to clear the fog from having the wind knocked from her slightly. Looking up into his sky blue eyes, she didn't miss the smirk that crossed his features at her antics. “I-I'm fine, Koga. Thanks. Hey, actually there was something I wanted to run by you if you've got a minute?”

“Sure thing, darling. Step into my office?”

Kagome had noticed his use of several terms of endearment in the last few days, but she didn't mind it so she didn't say anything to her new boss about it. Instead, she walked into his office and sat herself down without being prompted. Koga came around her to sit himself on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms lazily and smiling down at her.

“What can I do for ya, love?”

“Well, I've noticed that we don't ever take the kids anywhere outside of this building and its grounds. Is there a reason for that?”

Koga's face took a decidedly less happy appearance. “Kagome, this building is all that stands between these kids and the outside world. Humans aren't exactly welcoming to our kind, with the exception of the rare person such as yourself. We don't take the kids anywhere for their own protection but also for yours. You've seen how they can be with eachother. Imagine if they did that to a human? The backlash would be catastrophic.”

Kagome frowned. “So, they never get to leave here? Ever?”

“We occasionally take them to other facilities to interact with other children, but for the most part, yeah, they stay here.”

“And it's absolutely out of the question to take them to say a park?”

Koga's eyebrow quirked up in interest. “A park? Kagome, we have outside areas here for them.”

“I know that, Koga, but they should interact with other kids. Even human ones. I think it'll be good for them to socialize outside of their comfort zones. Some of them desperately need it. Besides, imagine if you were on the front lines of demon-human coexistence?”

Koga sighed deeply. “Kagome, I wish things were different but they're just not. I can't allow you to put the kids or yourself in that kind of danger. I'm sorry.”

The look of supreme disappointment that crossed her features nearly caused the wolf to cave. “If you say so, Koga. I'll go relieve Ginta and Hakkaku now.” She stood and exited his office with slightly slumped shoulders. She had been so sure she could convince him to let her take the kids out for a little while. Sighing, she decided she would just have to keep working him down until he agreed. Eventually, he would see her reasoning.

xxx

The next two weeks almost flew by for both InuYasha and Kagome. Even in the midst of studying for their impending final exams in a couple weeks, the pair never let a night pass without talking. It became part of both of their routines. They both looked forward to hearing from the other. Something that both of their respective room mates had not failed to notice.

“InuYasha, are you ever actually going to meet this girl?” Miroku asked his hanyou friend one Saturday afternoon.

“I have, jackass.”

Rolling his eyes, Miroku huffed. “You know what I mean. Sango and I have actually been on actual dates and you know, know eachother's names.”

“Bully for you. Now fuck off.” InuYasha practically yelled as he tried to stick his headphones on his ears.

Sighing, he took his friend's obvious hint and went downstairs to meet Sango. Upon seeing her leaning against the banister, fingers looped in her jeans, he couldn't help but smile. She smiled back and asked, “Everything ok up there? I thought I heard someone yelling.”

Miroku took his girlfriend's hand and went to exit the house. “Yeah. Just my room mate being an idiot.”

Sango raised an eyebrow in question. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He met a girl at the Halloween party but has yet to actually learn her name or even see her face outside of whatever mask she was wearing. They just text constantly.”

Sango's eyes widened. “Th-they do?”

Miroku didn't hide his puzzled expression. “Yeeeeeah...”

“Um... well...”

Stopping mid step on their trek to the campus food court, Miroku eyed his girlfriend suspiciously. “Sango?”

Biting her lip, the girl looked down at the concrete. “I think your room mate is texting my room mate.”

Eyes widening to nearly the size of saucers, Miroku burst out laughing. “You're kidding!?”

Shaking her head, Sango responded, “Nope. She calls him Foxy. I guess he was wearing a fox costume or something?”

Miroku was nearly on the ground by this point. “Jesus! Yep. That's him.”

“I don't see how this is so funny.”

Finally calming himself, Miroku placed his hands on her shoulders, “Because my dear Sango, this cannot be purely coincidental. Maybe the strings of fate had a hand in this, eh?”

Sango rolled her eyes. “You're an idiot. What are we gonna do? I can't just lie to her.”

Placing a finger on his lips thoughtfully, Miroku had a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Mayhaps you won't have to my dear...”

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[wxldchxld]

@ashayara girl I cannot keep up with all ur urls lol

so this was supposed to be the final part of this, and it was supposed to all come to a clear and concise finish.... but i don’t think it will. on the bright side i’m 99 percent certain you’re the only one reading this and i know you won’t hold it against me.

but if, by any chance, anyone needs an explanation, I was just having a fucker of a time writing Asha and Euron’s fight, because as this entire piece makes it clear: I really suck at fight scenes. But, I mean, I’m proud I stuck this whole thing out. All parts put together made 25 pages in a doc and I feel like for the most part I followed through. Maybe @ashayara will write it, maybe we’ll all just imagine Asha stabbing her uncle 50 million times, or maybe I’ll  finish this one day, but for right now I needed to put it down. Sorry Elsie. Still have mad love for you girl.

The sea was bizarrely silent beneath the prow of her ship. One ill omen among hundreds it seemed. If not for her oarsmen she doubted the tide would have carried them at all. The wind was still and suffocating, sticking to her lungs and dragging along her throat and chest as she tried to breathe normally. Everything felt wrong. She could taste bile behind her lips, and for a moment she gripped the railing of her deck thinking she might lose what little food she’d managed to eat, but it stayed. She forced a breath and straightened her shoulders once more.

The Black Wind had been driven tirelessly forward since Victarion had told her of his plan earlier that morning, and it was late into the evening now. The light of the moon was cold and unforgiving above her, unimpeded by the clouds, and the only sound for miles was that of oars smacking against the surf. Beyond the moon a million stars danced in the black sky. How could such a picturesque evening feel so sinister?

“You worry for her.” Qarl said quietly. He sounded surprised, and she could detect the slightest edge of disapproval in his tone. Just what he was currently disapproving of she wasn’t sure; it felt like she’d done everything wrong lately.

A huff of silent laughter rolled past her lips and shook her shoulders. With a half grin and a sideways glance she asked, “Are you jealous?”

It was cruel. She knew that it was the second she’d said it. Her words were a barb that sliced like a blade into a still open wound. They’d scarcely spoken since her wedding, and when they had spoken it certainly hadn’t been about her wife. It hadn’t been said, but neither of them knew how to reconcile the relationship they’d had before it’d happened, or even if they should try. She’d brought that painful reality out from the shadows and into the light with one careless sentence.

“How do you think the witches will respond when they help win me a crown paid for with the blood of their own?” In truth she wasn’t sure what her wife was to the witches. She held some station, by birthright as well as something to do with their religion, but that was the extent of her own knowledge on the subject. What she did understand, quite clearly, was that their marriage had been arranged to symbolize a promise to the witches. Beck was a breathing symbol of their alliance, and if Asha neglected or failed her wife, she failed them all. The witch king had given her this warning himself… and he did not seem to her to be the forgiving type. Asha shook her head. “If we manage to defeat Euron and she dies, we’ll be lucky if the witches with us now don’t all turn on us. Their king wouldn’t forgive that.”

Qarl was quiet, sullenly watching the waves. She couldn’t tell if he was mulling over what she’d said or covering up some unsightly emotion, or not paying attention at all.

“But you worry over her.” He said finally. This time she could her anger straining his voice.

“...I do.” She said after a long, tense moment had passed. Though she didn’t let herself dwell on that thought. The more she did the sicker she got. It was preferable to focus on the threats of the witches rather than the crushing guilt and bizarre sense of sadness that overwhelmed her when she thought about what Euron might do to her wife. Beck was vibrant and joyful and warm and---soft. She’d stand no chance against ironmen. If that light was snuffed out beneath her uncle’s boot, she’d never put it out of her mind. At least she doubted she would live long enough to let that guilt consume her.

“What the hell is that?” Asha opened her eyes and turned back to Qarl, but her gaze didn’t linger on him long. Behind him, against the midnight blue sky, a luminous orange cloud of mist was resting over the waters. At first she thought it was smoke, and that deep within the heart of a smog her ships were burning, but as they drew closer she could see it wasn’t smoke at all.

“Go and get Cuyler.” She demanded, sending Qarl a cutting look. Cuyler was the only witch left on her ship. There was little need for strategy and war council now. They hadn’t the time. Their only hope was to hit Euron hard and fast with everything they had and pray to the Drowned God for favor. Or---whatever witches prayed to.

Qarl all but ran across the ship, and Asha’s gaze drifted from him to her sailors, who had all stopped to gape open-mouthed at the enormous cloud beyond them. Wordlessly they began to brace the sails and tie down anything loose for fear they were headed straight into the eye of a storm. Was it terror or excitement she saw in their eyes? Perhaps both. Should they die here in battle not a one would be turned away from the halls of the Drowned God.

Unless he forsakes us all. She thought. The Damphair had preached many a sermon about not spilling Ironborn blood. While most of the blood would likely be spilled by her allies, they did so in her name, and she’d be a fool to let herself think she’d get through the night without having to strike down any of her own.

All for a crown… She shook her head as she turned back to the problem at hand. More than just a crown now. My birthright has driven me here, perhaps, but now it has become so much more.

This war was its own beast now, with its own life. When her uncle had sounded the dragon horn that day, he’s blown life into its lungs. Tonight she would slay it and him in one fell swoop, and in doing so it would save her people from ruin. Ruin that could only come from serving under a man who cared only for his own whims.

“The ships!” Asha startled a bit, having been so deeply lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t heard anyone approach. Culyer was standing behind her, fast approaching the railing of the ship. His thick, scarred hands gripped at the sodden wood, and he smiled for the first time since she’d met him.

“Ships? I don’t see any damn ships. Only that fog.” She jerked her head in the direction of the mist, but the witch only stared ahead.

“What fog, good queen?” He asked, not bothering to turn to face her. Though he did have the decency to drop the smile from his face given her tone.

“What fog?” She replied, her words hard and mocking, then she stopped and considered him. “What do you see?”

“Not but moonlight.”

Qarl cut in with a small, humorless laugh. “No giant cloud of orange mist?”

Cuyler, who Asha was certain at this point didn’t even remotely understand the concept of a joke at all, only looked at him as if he were the greatest idiot to ever sail the seas. “I see… Stop your ships. Drop anchor.”

“Drop the anchor?” She was starting to feel like a parrot she was repeating so much. Only that time it hadn’t been on purpose. She was genuinely shocked that he thought it’d do them any good to stop when the enemy was in sight---well in his sight at least.

“If you can see a mist where I can not the other witches must have surrounded your uncle’s boats in this mist to protect themselves.”

“Do you think all of your people can see through it?”

“Aye, and likely your uncle’s wizard as well.” The witch peered back out into the distance, and she watched as the pupil of his eye grew to twice the size, and his eyes, as well as his tattoos took on a faint glow. “Most of his ships are still far from our own; all but one.”

He didn’t need to tell her which one it was.

“If the witches who spread the fog can keep up the spell, we can take but one or two ships onward and cut down this Crow’s Eye. After our retreat we can drown all that remain.”

Asha took a brief moment to think. The swirling mist seemed to be reaching out to them now, when they’d felt miles away only a few moments ago. It was barely half a league from them now.

“Send someone to Victarion’s ship to help him navigate the fog. Have the rest of the fleet drop anchor. Bring the witch leaders here to me.”

Cuyler’s grin grew to something truly enormous and sharp and altogether horrific, “To battle then!”

Her eyes lost focus of him for a moment, even though she tried her damnedest to watch him closely. There was a blur, either in her eye or in the very space where he stood, his body contorted, colors smeared across reality as if drawn by a thick brush of paint, and then flapping two mammoth wings in the air directly before her, an eagle appeared where Cuyler had stood. The dark golden brown of its feathers muddled with creamy ivory around its head, and its tail was as white as the sea foam. He was larger than her, larger than Qarl, with claws that could have pierced a suit of iron with but a twitch. The razor sharp beak rose to the sky, and he screamed out over the waters so loud that the sound overwhelmed all her senses and carried as far as the sea was long. The shrill, grating note struck inside her like lightning, then with a single flap of his wings, he shot into the sky and soared out toward the awaiting ships.

Their short journey toward the mist passed in the blink of an eye, and when the very tip of the prow reached out to touch it, the entire ship lurched. Behind her she heard a chorus of shouts as men braced themselves while the Black Wind came to a screeching halt. The vessel pitched forward, its tip bending down to nearly kiss the waves, and then like an angry stallion it reared back up and threw its weight forward obstinately.

“Lift the oars! Pull them in!” She demanded, unable to release the rope clutched in her fingers lest she be pitched over the rail. The rough fiber clawed at her skin and chased away the normal chill of the sea to replace it with a raw, uncomfortable warmth. The bones of her fingers dug in harder, and she braced her boots against the deck as the residual motion rocked her ship like a child’s toy. When it was only just under control, she called the oarsmen to get back to work.

Asha took a steadying breath and then hurled herself toward the mast. Another rope found its way into her hand as she helped two other men grapple with the rebellious sails.

Eerily, it was not that the wind howled around them, nor that the waters below were wild, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. There was a gut piercing, blood chilling silence to the world around them. She could scarcely see ten feet in front of her, and the mist seemed to suck sound from the air around them.

“Láta!” Came the cry of Ragna, but it was small and far away. Another voice echoed the word, and again and again. Láta. Láta. Until she could see the mist in front of her part, rolling like massive waves wide enough to allow them passage. The air rushed back into her lungs, and beneath her the ship settled.

“They’ve resorted to blood magic.” The red-eyed woman said. “Death drives this spell.”

Somehow she’d appeared at the front of her ship without Asha noticing her at all, and the other witches were fast approaching too. Now their voices were whispers, but in their hands they each clasped long iron wands in white-knuckled grasps, repeating láta, láta, over and over, keeping the mist from touching the ship, pulling more away from the cloud foot by foot.

There were shadows of ships in the smog on either side of the boat. Euron’s fleet couldn’t hope to move forward as their own vessels fought them. She watched in horror and astonishment as they lurched and toiled desperately on the still sea. And then she saw it, illuminated by a long stretch of moonlight, with mist lifting off its red hull and black sails; the Silence stopped its frantic rocking as the curtain of smoke pulled away. The ship swayed side to side like a drunk, spinning laboriously until finally it settled on the sea once more. They were closer now, nearly to the ship, and the soft light from the curling mist was just enough to see by. Through the long, narrow eye of her spyglass she could see that it was empty. Completely and utterly abandoned. Not even a shadow lingered on the deck.

Beyond Euron’s prized vessel, she watched the cloud forcibly tear in two around the floating fortress that was one of her treasure ships. It existed in a large bubble, sitting quietly beneath the starry sky, unplagued by the spell that had beset her uncle’s fleet.

“Is that his?” Harper demanded from her side. Asha took the spyglass away from her eye and gave a grim nod, but the Fox was not looking at her. Her rage was thinly veiled, and the effort that it took to contain it turned her soft face to stone. She was not panting, not audibly, but her chest heaved subtly. Was it fear? Excitement? Stress from fighting through the spell?

“Aye. That’s it.” Was Asha’s only reply.

The Fox needed nothing else. Her dark, predatory eyes shifted to the sky where the monstrous eagles circled above his masts, the tips of their wings dipping in and out of the mist like the fins on a shark.

“Let. It. Burn!”

The night sky blazed to life as the wings of the eagles burst into flames as gold as the autumn sunset. Speckles of blinding white glittered throughout the metallic flames; the frayed, toiling edges tore to reveal the ebony sky behind them, only to sew themselves together once more a heartbeat later; spears of crimson bled out against the golden field, staining everything it touched in shades of blood-spattered pink and burnt orange as they shot through the fire. The fire did not burn Euron’s ship so much as it consumed it. Like a pack of wild dogs rabidly tears apart and scarfs down its prey, the flames stripped the sails, broke open the masts, splintering them in all directions, and tore the planks apart board by board until there was nothing but embers and ash laying on the black water. She had never witnessed wildfire with her own eyes, but she imagined it looked just as unnatural as this. With a final roar and a sky shaking boom, the Silence died. What little remained sank down to the depths below, and for a time even the water glowed, as the sheer savage fury of the witches kept the flames alive even against the laws of the ocean itself.

The Black Wind glided effortlessly over where her uncle’s ship had been, and she tasted blood in her mouth.

Drawn by the violent display she saw men appear on the deck of the witches' ship only just out of her reach. Euron's men drew bows and took aiming, first at her ship, and then, upon seeing the flaming beasts in the sky, up to the air. Once more the eagles were descending, their beating wings dancing with fire. They were met the hail storm of arrows as they dove and three of them dropped with pained screeches into the sea below. Another spiraled and rolled along the deck of the ship, met with a spear before it could try and get to its feet. But those that remained swooped down on Euron's men. They took grown men in their grasp, setting their talons straight into their chests effortlessly.

Her axe was wetted as soon as her feet hit the deck. Another wave of men emerged onto the lower deck and made their charge. Her arm swung, digging her blade into a short man’s shoulder. He gasped and drew back to strike her, but she slipped out of the way and brought her axe down on the back of his neck as he stumbled. A sharp pain erupted at the base of her spine, and she heard her back pop. She hit the railing of the deck and turned to face her assailant, gasping for the air that had been ripped from her. A sword shot out from his chest and the man choked and spasmed; blood sputtered out of his lips, hot and wet, and splattered along her cheek. The sword withdrew as the man fell, and Qarl smiled sadistically as the blood only smeared on her pale flesh when she went to wipe it away.

“Duck you bumbling fool!” She demanded, her hand not hesitating as she hurled a throwing axe toward Qarl. He was quick enough to step out of the way, but so was the man behind him. Her axe was blown aside by his shield, but the moment’s distraction was enough that Qarl could land a blow to his exposed leg. The man had no sooner hit the deck than her boot crashed against his face with a satisfying crack. Around her the flood of men pouring onto the ship were swiftly driving back Euron’s small force. But she knew he wasn’t fool enough to waste all of his resources here on the lower deck. This was merely a distraction while he readied himself.

“Where are the witches?” She had to holler over the chaos around her. Now Victarion’s ship was docking, and the bloodthirsty shouts of battle hungry men drowned out the sounds of everything else. Asha kicked the man again, accidentally catching him at the base of his throat. He gagged and coughed, slobbering piteously on the sea-soaked wood, and her patience dissolved before he could recover. She wrenched the axe from his shaking hand and hefted it down into the back of his skull.

“Where are my witches?!” She roared above the crowd. Those who had captives still yet breathing momentarily paused in their assault to parrot her question, but it was one of the eagles that answered.

“The wizard and the Crow’s Eye are on the main deck.” The words echoed not in the air, but in her thoughts. “But there are no witches. None alive at least.”

Asha shot a look to Qarl, but as far as she could tell by the wary expressions on the faces of every man on the boat, no one else had heard. She looked to the eagles as they circled in the sky above.

Was this some sort of grand farce? Was Euron baiting her? Now instead of blood it was bile on her tongue. Where was her wife? Why couldn’t one damn person tell her where her fucking wife was? She looked up at the ship’s sails again, thinking perhaps she’d seen wrong; perhaps this wasn’t the Fox Clan’s ship. But in the dim light of the mist and the moon, she could see the silhouette of the fox straining against the wind.

“Ragna and I take will take a force below deck!” The Seal King panted. For the first time he was devoid of his atrocious coat. He pointed with the spear in his hand to the shrouded doorway. “The lower decks are the hardest to breech. Those that could hide would have done it there.”

The Badger was practically unrecognizable under her sheen of shattered glass and blood that seemed to pulse and fog along her once-pale skin. Her black eyes gleamed malevolently as she shot a glance in her direction, and then she followed the Seal.

“Tell your eagles to hold back and stay out of range for now.” She said to the Fox. “We’ll need them to drive Euron’s men back from the entrance to the main deck.”

The witch nodded, and after a flurry of heated words, Asha reluctantly agreed to follow behind on their way to the main deck. This was her fight, she was the one who had everything at stake, and she more than anyone needed to see if her wife was among the corpses littering the ship’s floor, but even she conceded that the greatest risk fell on those who stepped over the threshold first. But she did not want for brave men ready to meet the Drowned God, either.

The halls inside the ship were so dark that if she’d have let go of the wall she’d have wandered off into the shadows and lost herself in a second. Not even the lone torch that one of her men carried could cast light enough to fill more than a small halo around him. Without her sight, she could only feel; she could only hear and smell. And she did her best not to focus on the smell, as that the stench of blood was so thick in the room that it clogged her nose with each breath. The waves were quiet this far below the surface, but the walls creaked and groaned steadily as the ocean pressed in against them. Apart from that, all she could hear were the careful footsteps and choppy breaths of her men, occasionally interrupted by the head of the line stumbling, swearing, and then calling out for the rest of them to step over the body in the way. Each corpse she crossed she stared at twice as long as she needed to, never stopping, but always needing to be absolutely sure that the lifeless face was not that of her wife. It didn’t do her any good in the dark, and as the minutes dragged on her dread and her anger only grew.  

What few men Ragna and the Seal King had not disposed of were quickly felled by her front lines. They lost one by the time they reached the narrow staircase leading to the main deck, and that was she best she could have hoped for.

“He’s waiting for us.” Victarion said over his hulking shoulder. Even he preceded her, much to her annoyance, but he did stand a better chance against the initial assault in all his armor. He took up so much space his shoulders nearly scraped the sides of the hall as he walked, and in his ironclad boots his footsteps were about as subtle as a newly shod yearling on cobblestones. He was exhausting even when he was being helpful. They’d come to an agreement, yes, but she still couldn’t help but wish he wouldn’t make it back to the mainland. It’d save her a lot of headaches in the long run---and they’d never had much love for each other.

“He’s got the advantage. He’ll wait forever if we let him.” She said; her hand came to rest on the hook of her axe.

She felt a soft, slender figure slip past her and threw a questioning look over her shoulder to see Harper squeezing into the space in front of her as best she could.

“We’re going to ram the boat.” She whispered. Bracing herself against the wall in between Asha and her uncle. The proximity to the Fox was making Asha uncomfortable. So close to the battle Asha would have thought she’d seen fear or rage reflected in her eyes or at least a thread of tension in her voice, but her gaze was still cold and calculating, and when she spoke the words were steady. Asha didn’t feel right looking at something so pragmatic and emotionless, especially not when her rage and her worry were at war within her own chest.

Harper briefly glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to the queen once more. “With any luck it’ll knock some of his men off balance. Give the eagles a chance to come down without any arrows flying. The second you see the flames, charge. With any luck we’ll catch the bastards with their breeches ‘round their knees.”

She was unaccustomed to this much---planning in an open water battle, otherwise she might have objected to everyone else doing the planning for her. That was magic, she supposed. Even when there were no options in sight, it gave you some.

No sooner had she braced against the wall then she felt the ship pitch backward with such a force that even those who had prepared themselves could be heard stumbling behind her. Whatever had hit the boat, if it’d been anything at all, surely hadn’t been another ship. It’d come from beneath the vessel. Visions from her dreams flew through her head, flashes of great leviathans and krakens the size of a longship, but she did not have time to dwell on them. Ahead she heard the commotion of Euron’s men shouting in alarm, and then the piercing scream of eagles beneath the roar of a fire as light flooded the top of the staircase.

Asha took three breaths, trying to memorize and anticipate the residual rocking of the ship beneath her feet, and then she charge forward with the rest of them, up into the blinding white light of the deck, her axe clutched firmly in hand.

At first she could see only shadows, blurry and distorted amid the intense flames of the fire. Great, hulking shadows hovering in the air, and the mad, flailing silhouettes of men waving their swords indiscriminately. The fire began to dwindle and fade, unable to catch hold of the deck of the ship. To her left three men leaped onto the back of one of the great beasts, thrusting their swords into its hide and hanging onto them for dear life as the creature flapped and screamed. Ultimately it fell and the light faded even more. One by one the eagles were either forced to flee or were slain, but by the time Euron’s men made a decent recovery, a small force of her own was already charging, with more filing out of the hall at every moment.

“Guard the entrance!” She demanded, looking to Harper, who had somehow managed to split open the throats of three charging men by simply pointing her wand at them, and Victarion who was removing his war axe from the gut of a sputtering corpse. If Euron’s men managed to gain back the entrance to the lower deck, they’d have no reinforcements and be done for in minutes. Neither of them looked at her, but they stayed near the door as the rest of them made their charge.

An axe flew in her direction, and in one deft motion she took it up in her own hand and hefted it back at the man rushing her. It caught him in the eye and sent him spiralling past her onto the blade of one of her men. Qarl. He was still right at her back. Asha spared him only a glance before pushing further into the fray. She plunged her axe into the next man’s throat, and ripped it out only to swing it into the side of another. His sword hand raised and crashed against her chin, hard. She spat blood, the taste of it filling her mouth with copper and her chest with a boiling rage. A cry of fury was strangled from her chest as she swung her axe down on the back of his neck, almost cutting it clean from his shoulders. More blood sprayed, making her grip on her blade hot and wet, and in spite of herself she smiled.

As she jerked it free she straightened herself and wildly searched the deck for the Crow’s Eye. Her eyes frantically dragged across the blood red sea of people. She saw Victarion crash two men’s head together in a way that might have been comical if the skulls hadn’t split and their brains hadn’t bubbled out the side like a bit of spilled stew. Her gaze didn’t linger. She didn’t care. Qarl was splitting open a man’s gut, and still she looked on. A serpent the size of ten men was coiled around Euron’s wizard, forcing its mouth over his shoulders and swallowing him alive. Still she tore her eyes away until she found him, looming above the battle on the upper deck like a coward. He was watching her.

She blindly cut her way through the crowd, unaware if she was killing men or simply taking them to their knees. She couldn’t avoid every swing of their axes or thrusts of their swords, but she barely felt the sting of any blade that split her skin. Every prickle of pain only served to strengthen the bitter taste of fury and bloodlust on her tongue.

And then something felt wrong. Her back felt naked---exposed---and as she ripped her eyes away from her uncle, reality came back to her. Qarl. She couldn’t see him now. He wasn’t at her back, nor her side, nor even fighting on ahead to bait her. Every face she looked on was wrong. Each pair of eyes belonged to someone she cared nothing for.

Her wild eyes landed two figures, one slumped over the other, but shaking with thunderous laughter. Like that same laughter from her dream. Mad and wild, trembling in the air and drowning out all other sound. Like a red hot sword plunged into ice water, she felt her fury immediately harden and turn to piercing fear. She slammed the blade of her axe down between the figure’s shoulders, watching the flesh split and his body jerk. Still he laughed and laughed, and the cold terror felt like mania inside her now. She struck again and again, screaming raggedly to overwhelm the sound of his laughter. Even once he was dead and silent, she hit him three more times before ripping his body away.

Qarl.

She might have wretched. She might have fainted. What miraculous force kept her from doing either she didn’t know, but she could not stop herself from falling to her knees.

He stared back at her with wide, glassy eyes. Neither alive nor dead, caught in the agonizing limbo between the two. His hands were clutching his side uselessly. From the gaping wound she could see his entrails snaking out onto the deck of the ship. He began to cough, blood bubbling up from his lips, and she caught his head in her hands as her axe clattered to the deck.

“Qarl!” Her voice was far from gentle, far from loving, and she couldn’t force any softness upon it. Even in her grief there were only sharp edges and hard demands to offer this man that she loved… but he looked at her. By some merciful twist of fate, her words brought him back to her. Those dark eyes met hers. His mouth gaped open and then closed, and she could not tell if he meant to speak or if he was only desperate for breath. She kept his gaze, feeling tears welling in her own eyes, feeling a thousand apologies and confessions gather on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t afford to cry for him now. A trembling hand pressed against the nape of her neck, and he weakly pulled her forward. She met his lips in a desperate kiss, as if she might give him some of her own life, and she held him to her until the hand in her hair went limp and fell away. Against her lips she felt him smile, and she pulled away long enough to watch the last glint of life fade from his eyes.

Dead. He was dead. She had loved no one else. She had trusted no one else. Not as a woman, at least. She had loved her mother as a ghost, she had loved her lord father as wish, and she had loved her brothers as corpses, but Qarl she had loved as the man he was. He had been real and tangible… and Euron had taken him from her.

[kfawkes]

"Please talk to me." And/or "Will you marry me?" Fluffy angst maybe? Or whatever you wanna write :3

ALRIGHT ANON! I did both of them for a fun challenge lol. SO I hope this is enjoyable for you whoever you are out there!!! Ao3 here!

Thanks for being patient :) Sorry my turn around isn’t that fast, but I do what I can haha. Hope you enjoy it!

———————————————————————-

Shepard lay on the ground of Therum in a cool patch of shade. Her hair spread beneath her pale freckled face like a wave of fire. With ankles crossed and long delicate fingers braided together on her stomach. Her breath left her lips in  hurried exhales ringing with a serene calmness with just a touch of stressed the fuck out. Pulling one hand from the others grip, she slid the glove from it one finger at a time. Once her hand was free she placed it on the ground beside her, spreading her fingers wide before picking up and dropping small pieces of red rubble. 

“Shepard I… didn’t mean to… I don’t know. I thought…” Garrus strode over to her slowly, his head tilted to the side slightly looking at the abandoned mine entrance. 

It was the same dig site they had found Liara in all those years ago. Shepard didn’t speak, she merely just grab small piles of sand from the ground, letting them slip between her fingers repeatedly. He took another step closer, testing the water so to say.

“Please talk to me, Jane.” Garrus’ voice was light and raspy. His subvocal’s flanging in a tone she learned was disappointment. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Shepard finally spoke after another long moment, her voice cracking midway as she clear her throat and pulled the corner of her lip into a suddenly dry mouth.

“How about, ‘Yes, Garrus. I’d love to marry you and spend the rest of my life getting you out of trouble.’?” Garrus’s purr was filled with confidence and ease as he took another step closer, wearing his version of a perfect smile. Watching as she pull from her core to sit up with arms wrapped around her knees.

“Garrus…” She shook her head looking down at her feet, using the tip of her foot to create a small hole in the space below it.

“Don’t you ‘Garrus’ me. Like you know what’s going to happen-” 

Standing quickly she closed the gap between them with urgency. Furrowing her brow, her face was screaming with anger but her eyes were screaming with fear. “You ‘don’t’… You have no idea what’s coming.” She pulled her hands to her hips as she sent a small pink tongue out before continuing. “I actually do know what’s out there, Garrus… I’ve known for a long time. And I think we both know I’m not…”

“Jane.” Garrus pulled her from her thoughts with a hand to her chin as he slid her face forward to his. “Come back to me.” 

After a deep sigh she began, her voice was almost defeated. “How can you even think about getting married right now, Garrus? With everything going on… It’s just… You have to know know that I’m not…” Shaking her head at her thoughts, it was hard for her to even say them out loud.

“That you’re not what, Shepard? Huh?” He asked pointedly, his undertones already revealing he knew her answer.

“That I’m not coming back from this. This is gonna be it for me, Garrus. This is my last stop. You can’t cheat death twice, you just can’t…” Narrowing her eyes she forced composure as she slid her hands to either side of his neck. “I don’t want to leave you with that. With nothing…”

If she was being honestly there was nothing more that she wanted than to spend the rest of her life as his bondmate. She was in love with him. Irrevocably, unconditionally, unfathomably in love with him. With the way his nose crinkled when he laughed, to the soft flanging his voice made when he said her name. Down to the way he held her late at night, or woke her from the nightmares of death and failure. Shepard loved every inch of that damn turian, through and through. But she wasn’t about to promise him a life she couldn’t give him. Not when she knew what was coming… She couldn’t give him everything and leave him all alone in the world with nothing.

Shepard didn’t like saying it… But she knew it was the truth. She knew that all their months of preparation and gathering forces came down to their next big fight… The last fight. That all of their endless hours building the Crucible, and preparing for the battle came down to this. It all came down to her… She was going to have to fight the Reapers and she could feel it in every molecule of her body that she wasn’t going to make it through this one.

“You won’t marry me because you think you’re going to die? Hell, Shepard. You might… I might. Everyone we know might die during this fight. The Reapers could win and we could all be decimated…”

“I know, that’s exactly my point.” Shaking her head lightly she held her mouth slightly open in mild confusion.

“And it’s also mine. Except I’m not scared of it. I’m not running away from the things I want because I’m worried I might to lose them. I don’t want to marry you because the galaxy is crumbling, Jane. I want to marry you because if I die in a few days, I want to know I died as your mate. I want to die knowing I had the love of my life by my side until the very end.” Garrus’ rasp ended sincerely as he gaze down into those large emerald eyes. 

He watched as they filled with a liquid he learned to be tears, sliding a hand to her cheek he removed it before it escaped over her ivory chin. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because… I’ve never… No ones ever said anything like that to me before. And well… truthfully you’re right. I’m scared.” Sliding her hand below her eyes she removed more evidence of her sensitivity. After a deep sigh she continued again. “I’m scared because I don’t want to die again. I don’t want to go back to the dark emptiness of… nothing. I don’t want to leave you here alone again…” 

Moving her eyes down she began thinking back to when the SR1 had been spaced. Back to when she had died… “Or if something happened to you and I had to just… go on without you… God, Garrus. I don’t know how you did it.” Shaking her head lightly side to side she looked back into his crystal eyes. 

“You’ll never be alone, Shepard. Never. We’re going to get out of this alive. You better believe that.” Garrus ran his fingers down the back of her hair as he finished.

Jane leaned into his chest as she pull him into a tight hug. Thinking about all of their time together these last three plus years… All of their long nights, and every near death mission. All of those soft kisses and warm hugs. Every little piece of them came flooding into her mind wrapping her in a tornado of emotions. Squeezing him tighter with each passing memory, she didn’t want to let him go. 

After several minutes of this, he broke the silence with a soft purr from above her. “Do you know why I wanted to ask you here?”

“Cause you like making me suffer?” Her voice was soft and light as she joked about the heat of the planet. She was trying for playful, only slightly able to cover their previous conversations weight.

“That is a bonus… But, no.” Sliding his three taloned hand to the back of her neck again, he rest it at the base of her skull as he rub his thumb across the side of her head affectionately. “That day we found Liara… when we were running up the tunnel, escaping the cave in… Which, if I remember correctly you caused-” Shepard scoffed as she rolled her eyes at him before allowing him to continue. “We got caught or something and we tumbled down that ramp in a pile. I landed right on top of you.” Garrus ended with an honest laugh as he recalled the memory with fondness pouring though his subvocal’s.

“How could I forget, you weigh a fucking ton.” Poking him with a finger lightly in the side, she returned his laugh with an affectionate smile. When she noticed the unimpressed look he held in his eyes, she nodded sweetly for him to continue, zipping her lips with pinched fingers and a closed mouth smile.

After a nostalgic sigh he narrowed his eyes at her once more, lowering his head closer. “That was the day I realized I was in love with you, Jane. That was the day I realized I’d follow you anywhere you asked me to.” His voice was strong, and he didn’t waver once, which was surprising since this was the first time he’d actually told her he loved her. 

“And I did… I followed you to Ilos. And with everything stacked against us we made it out of there. Then I followed you straight into hell again through the relay. And guess what, Shepard? We made it out.” 

After a momentary pause he swallowed and continued in his usual soft bewitching purr. “We made it past the geth and Saren. Past Sovereign and even death itself when it came for you… We’re going to make it through this too, Jane. We’re going to kick Harbingers ass straight back into dark space and we’re going to make it out alive. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives somewhere warm and tropical and I’m going to remind you everyday why I chose you… Marry me, Jane. Spend the rest of your life with me. Whether it’s tomorrow or in 70 years.”

Shepard closed her eyes tightly biting back the stinging her fresh tears brought. Slowly she opened them, sliding them to his as she begin nodding profusely. As her head move up and down faster and faster with each nod, her light pink lips curled into a wide smile. Pressing her mouth to his before speaking she kissed him deeply.

“Yes… Yes of course, Garrus. I… I’m sorry. I don’t know-” She kissed him over and over again, all around his face on every plate she could reach from her height. “-what I was thinking. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Of course I will.” Kissing him one final time before he grabbed a small piece of fur from his suit. 

As he unwrapped it slowly he reveal a small golden ban, atop was a flat circular stone. It was a dark blue, and almost looked like some kind of turquoise. “I needed help with this part… But Joker mentioned you used to have one like it. And something about these being the human tradition? Is it alr-” His worried awkward rambling was cut short by her lips as she kissed him again.

“It’s perfect.” Lifting her ungloved hand to his he placed small pecks on every finger before he slid the ban to its final resting place. Feeling that familiar sting behind her eyes she slid her arms around his cowl squeezing him tightly. 

Shepard may have been scared and stressed beyond imagination. Scared that the Reapers would win, scared that she might lose… But now nothing scared her more than the thought of dying before she had the chance to see this through. Nothing scared her more than dying without Garrus knowing that it was him. That it had always been him.

They had something special, something that the Reapers didn’t: Hope. Friendship. Love… Something to live for. 

[renegade-diamonds]

And once more I shall expand on my DIamonds AU.

Hope you all enjoy it, each and everyone of you deserves the world! :)

Please excuse any errors, I don’t have time to proof-read, I’m really sorry.

I don’t own Steven Universe lol.

The soft feeling of silk upon her skin was the first thing Pink recognized.

Her head pounded with a raging headache, and the light pushing through her eyelids pushed her closer and closer to consciousness.

Confused, with her eyes straining to adjust, bright pink diamond shaped pupils blinked to life.

The ceiling above her was polished white stone, and when she turned her head to look around a faint pulse of panic rose in her heart.

The memories of her last moments before falling unconscious were blurry and spotty, leaving even more questions floating around in her mind.

Where was she? Who brought her here? Were they enemies? Allies?

A sudden lump caught in her throat and fat tears gathered at the edges of her eyes.

What had happened to Yellow? The memory of the bridge collapsing, of watching her lover practically get her arms torn apart and mutilated, the despair and horror flowing through her veins.

A low whine pulled away from her throat. How she wished Blue and Yellow were here, how she wished she was surrounded with nothing but their love.

She wished for what was familiar, and not the cold cruel world she had suddenly been thrust into.

With tears blurring her vision, she crawled out of the lavish mattress she’d been left on. Her feet touched the stone ground, and Pink was pleasantly surprised to feel the warmth radiating from the smooth floor. A quick look around the room revealed a large fireplace, with a few embers glowing in the charcoal left behind. White curtains, heavy for keeping warmth in and cold out, covered the few windows.

Hesitantly she pushed a curtain to the side, to look down into a beautiful courtyard adorned with white roses and crystalline statues of various objects. A blue fountain was positioned in the center, and a surprised gasp wretched itself from her lips when she saw two very familiar looking statues decorating the top of it.

A beautiful depiction of Blue Diamond holding a shell spurting water to the sky was accompanied by a Yellow Diamond kneeling at her feet- her sword presented to the other statue as tribute of some kind.

Pink was mesmerized by the display, the craftsmanship was so lifelike.

Hesitantly she pulled away from the view, returning to her previous mission of mapping out the room she was residing in.

A large ivory white desk was situated a meter or two away from the bed.

Pink ran her hand over the surface. A quill and fresh ink was positioned atop the desk, and Pink realized that someone must have been using it minutes before she had awoken.

Looking around, she spotted a door to the far side of the room- opposite the window overlooking the courtyard.

Carefully she approached. The door was large but simple, and Pink pursed her lips before reaching her hand for the handle.

The door creaked and began to push open before she even touched it, and the young diamond dove to the side before whoever it was caught sight of her.

A white figure walked into the room, and Pink reacted before she had time process what she was doing.

With a surprised yelp, the tall mysterious stranger barely had time to react before the papers she was carrying were suddenly flying through the air and the carrier was suddenly flipped backwards.

Pink jumped on top of the stranger, pinning her hands above her head in a trick Yellow had once taught her.

Surprised white eyes stared up at her, and Pink swore she felt her heart miss a beat as her eyes caught the clear diamond with a cloud of pink directly in the middle.

Memories came rushing back to her.

A thick stream of embarrassment flooded through her entire being, and Pink hastily released the other diamond’s arms and climbed off her.

She took a few steps backwards, her legs giving out as her back came into contact with the wall.

With an undignified slump, she slide to the floor- watching with wide guilty eyes as her newly-found soul mate pushed herself up, staying sitting on the floor but no longer laid flat on her back.

She made no attempt to collect the numerous papers scattered around the area, just stared intently at Pink.

Said diamond wringed her fingers nervously, “Umm, sorry about that. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The stranger smiled disarmingly at her, and Pink was suddenly aware of the supreme beauty this angelic being possessed, “It’s quite alright. I suppose I should have factored in your survival instincts before hand. This is unknown territory for you, is it not?”

“Yes,” Pink nodded. “I currently reside in the Riverlands, in the capital city.”

A flash of some unidentifiable emotion flashed across her mysterious soul mate’s eyes, “I see.”

Pink rubbed her head as a new headache started making it’s presence known, “What happened exactly? And umm, what’s your name?” Pink had a pretty good idea of who this was, but the logical part of her had to confirm it.

“You ate arsan berries, which are deadly to non-gems. It would have left you in a coma for several weeks had we not found you. It takes gems quite a while to flush such toxins from our bodies,” the pale goddess pushed off the ground, stepping in front of Pink and holding out her hand, “And my name is White Diamond.”

Pink stared unbelievingly up at the newly named entity, before reaching up and firmly grabbing the offered hand.

White easily pulled Pink to her feet, however the young diamond did not move back.

Instead she reached up and ran her hand over the smooth gem atop her soul-mate’s forehead, “I didn’t think I’d ever meet you.”

“Yet here we are,” White pressed her gem into her palm, evidently enjoying the attention. “May I ask your name?”

Pink blinked in surprise, she hadn’t presented her name yet, that was right.

A shy smile broke across her face, and she ran her hand along the pale jawline in front of her, “Pink. Pink Diamond.”

Their gems hummed with energy.