#I was like: she gets on the ground and grovels and says 'my lady I will do anything you ask I am your unworthy servant'

[theburiedgay]

also unrelated my cleric got to talk directly to her goddess and it was hilarious. I told the DM 'tell me if this will derail the end of the campaign bc she's ready to walk and lose her powers' and he was like '....your goddess was convinced by your argument that your murder sprees were for fighting evil. Barely.' so she gets to keep her powers AND her evil bf. living the dream

[thebreakerofchains]

Lights Down Low

A/N: So, I was listening to this song, and I was hit with the thought of Nesta and well...Less than decent thoughts. So, I mused to myself "why not?" and wrote this self indulgent one-shot. Keeping in mind that while I am a pro at reading smut, I am all but a novice writer of it, at best.

Nesta Archeron x Fem!IllyrianReader

Warnings: SPICY!! DNI if you are a minor.

Cassian had woken you up that morning frantically spewing about how he wouldn’t be able to go to training – you were barely awake let alone properly hearing what he threw at you full speed at those ungodly morning hours – all you got was that it had something to do with the Illyrian camp and Devlon and that he really would appreciate if you could cover for him seeing that leaving the females with Azriel being the only instructor was as dangerous as lighting a match near gasoline. And, if you knew something about Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie it’s that do they burn and blow easily. 

So, you decided you were in a generous mood today while you dressed up in your fighting leathers and headed towards the training area at the House of Wind. He also owes you one, naturally, and you had almost the perfect idea as to what favor you’d call in for that, you think to yourself with a wicked grin. 

“Good morning, ladies.” You say with a smile to your face at their already sweaty state, considering they have been here for forty minutes at most.  

Azriel gives you a once over from where he is standing and an inquisitive look, “I didn’t know you were joining us today.” 

“Nice to see you too, Az.” You feign an expression of hurt, “Glad to know you have missed me.” You had been on a diplomatic trip with Morrigan to Vallahan for a few weeks and had only recently got back as of two nights ago, and the only people you got the chance to see were Rhysand and Feyre for the report, and Cassian this morning as he groveled at the end of your bed for you to cover him for training. 

“I am glad you two are having a great time chatting away, definitely don’t mind us.” Nesta said from where she stood in a stretching position that looked about as painful as it probably was. “Should I ask the House to bring you some biscuits and tea so you can get properly acquainted?” 

You bite the insides of your cheeks in an attempt to control your grin from growing any wider. How you missed those snide comments. Not that Mor wasn’t stimulating company during that rather boring trip, but no one could entertain you so effortlessly like Nesta Archeron. 

Rhysand says you are a different brand of masochist for enjoying the blue-gray-eyed woman as much as you do. Well, you and Cassian, who also never shied from a mostly healthy banter with her – without dramatic repercussions, at least. 

“If you gave the same attention that you do us to your stretching you would see more effective results, Archeron.” I wink at her and she eyes me with a look I do not know how to describe other than ‘I will make you eat those words’; I shiver inwardly. 

I am distracted, or rather saved, by Emerie to my side as she groans out, “This is insanity.” She moves out of position with a deep intake of breath, and I see my opening. 

“Here, let me help.” I move to her sitting on the ground, silently asking for permission as I move my hands to her arms. She nods slowly in recognition and I start adjusting her sitting stance spreading her limbs wider apart and then holding her upper members up from behind her. My chest is pressed on her back, and I move my head to the side of her ear before asking, “How does it feel?” 

“Fine.” She breathes out low and quick. 

I hum, slightly puzzled with her reaction wondering if I am somehow making her uncomfortable. I look above her shoulder and see Gwyneth’s teal eyes gazing at us, cheeks red adorning a mischievous smirk. I clear my throat and get up from my position behind Emerie, “Now, you only have to keep it up exactly like that, and you will see that as nagging as it is, it won’t be quite an unbearable pain as before.” 

I circle around the field correcting the priestesses here and there, mostly giving them verbal instructions on how to improve their stances and the whole time I could feel a much familiar fire burning on my back. I was being watched. 

The training ended on a positive note, and much to Azriel’s dismay, the priestesses all left with a thankful and hopeful murmur that I should lead the sessions more often to which I just smile shyly at. As soon as they left, I start tiding up until I hear the swish of a small blade, looking back to see who my companion is, I meet the face of Nesta and her intense eyes as she plays with a dagger. 

“Can I help you with something?” I ask, mentally cursing myself from being that affected at the sight of her in training leathers. 

“So, this is how I find out you are back home?” She runs the blade on the wooden table where the other weapons laid, slowly approaching me, closing me in a lot like a predator hunting its prey. 

“I didn’t-” I start and she pauses me raising the blade to my lips, the sharp end meeting my skin with a blazing cold touch much like Nesta’s own. 

“I don’t care.” She eyes me in a silent dare to try and explain myself again. 

I for one, get so completely lost in her eyes and the smell of her that all I do is take one of my hands up to her face where a strand of her golden-brown hair slipped from her updo and remove it from where it laid on her sweaty forehead. Nesta sharply intakes air and I lose mine altogether, as if she sucked in my very breath to her lungs, her full breasts touching my own, her nose brushing on mine. 

“Did you miss me?” She husks. 

I nod gradually. 

“Hm.” She hums out, “Is that why you were feeling up Emerie at practice earlier?” 

My eyes widen at the implication, “I would never!” 

She merely grins wickedly to me, her leg moving between my own and I feel her leather covered core press down on my thigh. I let out a gasp, and she strokes my hair gently, “I wonder if you didn’t look for me because you were too busy with Morrigan. You did spend two full months with her at Vallahan – so eager to help, volunteering yourself like that – and we both know you don’t last long being on your own, don’t we, baby?” 

She blows soft air to my face, as if it would help me cool down. “That is absurd, Nes. Morrigan doesn’t see me that way, or any other female, that we know of.” I muse out. “Well, maybe Emerie if we are being honest, but I know better than to raise the question to her.” 

She presses herself further into me in a way I didn’t even know that was possible, I see stars and my hands find her hips in a possessive grip, “Nesta...” I mean to sound warning but it comes out a tad too desperate to be anything else other than pleading.  

“Yes?” She drawls out sensually, hips moving away and right before I answer she pulls them back down deliciously deliberate and steady. A growl leaves my lips and I switch our positions, her back now touching the stone-cold rock walls. “I thought you could help me out with my stretching exercises, unless that special attention is reserved for Illyrian females only.” She draws out and I swear I hear a hint of jealousy to her tone. 

“I can always make an exception for you.” I decide to tease her back, “If I am not too busy. You high fae do bend different.” 

“Oh?” She lifts one of her perfect eyebrows at me. “Care to elaborate, professor?” 

“For example, you are much more sensitive here,” I say as I slid a hand down her ass touching her inner thigh from the back, “than most Illyrian females I taught before.” I drag my hands upwards again, purposefully grabbing her ass and she lets out a small squeal. “Or maybe, that is just you.” 

She moans out, “You are right, just me.” Enunciating the last two words roughly with intent as she pulls me for a mind-numbing kiss. My grip to her back tightens and my other hand finds its way to the mess of tangled hair that was once her braid, deepening the kiss, she gasps in surprise and I take my opportunity to slowly enter my tongue in her mouth giving her lower lip a teasing lick before sucking on her own. At this point, we are both frantically panting, all I can see, sense and smell is Nesta as her nails scratch my back until I can feel blood coming out. I draw back from the kiss and she glares at me in her dizzy state, I give her a mirthful look and she seems to understand exactly where my thoughts went to just as I rip her top apart and am met with her creamy perky breasts waiting to receive my undivided attention. 

Wasting no time, I take my mouth to her left breast as my hand that was in her head seconds ago playfully twists and teases the other one, her hips still moving, relentlessly searching for any kind of relief and contact they can find. 

“I reckon you missed me as well, Nes.” I breathe out between my ministrations as I move to the right side and suck hard on her hardened nipple. She moans out my name, “Ah, Y/N!” 

“I want to hear you say it, Nes.” 

She looks down to me, and it’s like something snaps between us. I have fucked Nesta thoroughly and often for a while now, in many occasions – and positions – but never have I felt such a feeling like the one engulfing me right now. It’s like the time we spent apart left the thing desperate, as desperate as I was when I thought of her, especially in the night when my hands drifted between my legs and I would come time and time again at the memory of her. 

I move my head to her neck and with a bite I order, “Say. It!” 

She screams in pleasure and I pull back to look at her dazed eyes while she says, “I missed you.”  

I waste no time as I take her into my arms, and fly to my room, the House apparently ever attuned to Nesta had the whole ambient ready for us. From the corner of my eyes, I could see red candles were lit all over the place. The curtains were now closed and there was a dizzying smell, but that was no one else’s credit but Nesta’s as her deep arousal hit my nostrils. 

Her hands that laid with a tight grip on my back move up to plant a feather-like touch to my wings and I shiver out a moan, “Illyrians and their wings.” She breathes out teasingly. 

With a snarl I rip her leather pants off her finding her glistening exposed sex so fucking ready for me. I ghost touch it and she arches her back trying to draw my hand closer to her center, “How long do you plan on making me wait?” She lets out petulantly. “Weren’t two months of touching myself at the thought of you enough punishment?” 

I raise my eyebrows at her, smiling wolfishly like a starved madwoman, which I am sure is the exact definition of what I am right now. I lower myself, kissing her inner thigh leisurely, and she grips my head her nails scratching on my scalp. “Y/N, please, I need you.” 

“That was fast, maybe I should go away more often, it seems you finally gained some manners while I was gone.” I say before planting a teasing kiss to her clit. 

“Baby!” She screams. 

I decide to put both of us out of our misery and draw my tongue from bottom to top before closing in my mouth on the bundle of sensitive nerves, I hungrily move up and down, circling and sucking in different points and directions before moving one finger close to her entrance. 

I look up to what is one of my favorite sights in the world, her golden-brown locks sprawled on my pillow, body glistening with sweat, her forehead creased in pleasure as she bites on her lower lip punishing the plump part before locking her gaze with mine and saying, “I need to feel you inside of me, love.” 

I suck at her clit before speaking, “Only ever me?” 

“Yes, yes, only ever you. I don’t want anybody else. Just you!” 

I groan on her pussy, a low guttural sound that has never come out of me before as I insert one finger inside her soaking wet pussy. “You are mine, Nesta Archeron.” 

“Yes, I am yours, all yours.” 

I put another finger inside her, mouth working mercilessly on her sensitive bundles as she screams chants of pleasure, and I can feel she is getting close and I am not far myself, she takes one of her hands to my wings and strokes a particularly soft spot and I moan loudly on her pussy. 

“Cum with me, baby.” She lets out breathy, mind close to succumbing. I move my fingers faster, harder and she continues stroking the spot on my wings, my climax borderline here until I feel the knot on my lower belly tighten impossibly and in a blinding flash of life I come just as her juices flow out of her and I divert my mouth lapping as much of it as I can. Licking her clean, fingers now moving slower and softer to help her ride out her high. 

I let go of her, a string of saliva between me and her intimate area, she pushes my head upwards and I meet her with a searing kiss. Her legs engulf my torso pushing me closer before she bites down on my lips strong enough to draw blood, and as the metallic tinge of it fills my tastebuds Nesta says lowly: 

“If you ever leave me for that long again, I will hunt you down, and I will kill you with my bare hands.” Her blue-gray eyes locked on mine, daring me to protest in any way. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I give her a slow kiss. 

She gives me a smile that bore nothing good, and I knew I would be in for one long, long night. 

[kamen20ghost]

Arcfall fail

Jaune sister had come to visit and he was hanging out with his best friend ren and girlfriend cinder who she meeting for the first time.

jaune: Hey guys this is saphron. This is cinder and you both know ren. I’m get something to drink do you guys want anythin.

Saphron: waters good.

Jaune: Ok. *Walk out of the room into the kitchen.*

Saphron: Hi! *Looks over to cinder.* your really pretty

Cinder: *Intimidated* duh sarha was it?

Saphron: Saphron

Ren:*Look between the Girls with a smile on his face.* This going to be so good.

Cinder: so… how long have you know jaune?

Saphron: practically my whole life.

Cinder: huh that weird.

Ren: Wait for it.

Cinder: He’s never mentioned you before.

Ren: *Pretending to hold a mic like a commentator.* Cinder comes in with a right hook will saphron retaliate.

Saphron: Funny I could say the same about you.

Ren: Saphron holds her ground and the crowd, waited for the next move.

Cinder: Slightly annoyed. Haha funny girl, huh. So how’d you meet?

Saphron: my mom introduced us. How long have you know jaune?

Cinder: for like 3 years now

Saphron: Huh doesn’t ring a bell actually, I don’t think he’s ever mentioned you. At least not by name.

Ren: Saphron wipes, the floor with cinder. Will she recover?

Cinder: I doubt he would talk to you. I’m the only girl in his life you bitch.

Ren: oOoOoOoo the crowds settles as the stand off continues.

Cinder: This is my boyfriend’s apartment.

Saphron: *Understands what happening.* Ooooooooo…

Ren: Ladies and gentlemen saphron has connected the dots will cinder catch on?

Cinder: *Still oblivious.* That right, I’m his girlfriend you tramp. I don’t know what you think you’re doing here but you need to leave.

Ren: *Grinning at how cinder messed up big time.* The stakes raise, does cinder realize what she doing?

Saphron: *Having fun before the revel.* You know what I think I have heard of you.

Ren: *Really excited.* The crowd waits for the final shoe to drop

Cinder: *Is angry.* Of course you have. Because I’m the only woman in his life, now leave.

Saphron: *With a smirk on her face.* Hey jaune can you text mom and let her know that i’m here.

Jaune: *Comes back from the kitchen with her water and heard what saphron said.* Already did and here you go also I’m glad you’re getting along with my sister. I was a little worried not gonna lie.

Ren: The crowd goes crazy as cinder stands there with her dick in her hand.

Cinder: *Surprise mix with worry.* Sister?!

Saphron: *Grabs her drink.* Thank you jaune and yup

Cinder: *Trying to do damage control.* Wow you’re so pretty.

Saphron: Tired of Cinder’s BS. Nope too late. *Turns to her brother best friend.* Ren which one is she?

Ren: *Looks over to Cinder smirking.* Saphron makes her final move.

Cinder: *Very confused.* Which one what do you mean which one?

Saphron: I’m trying to figure out which one you were on the roster. Is she the rebound or the one who sharts in her sleep?

Ren: *Is bowing repeatedly.* All hail saphron she is the god of retaliation.

Cinder: look I’m so sorry! Please don’t tell jaune!

Ren: ladies and gentlemen in an unseen sight. Cinder grovels for forgiveness will saphron accept?

Saphron: *Smirking evilly.* This is gonna be fun.

Ren: oh my god that terrifying you should really be worried.

Cinder: *Hopefull.* So am I forgiven?

Saphron: For a price.

Cinder: Oaky fine I’ll pay anything. What’s the price?

jaune: *Was texting with his mom so didn’t notice what was happen.* hey mom wants us home for dinner. You ready? *Makes his way to the front door.*

Saphron: yup ta-ta Cinder I’ll see you later. * Follows after jaune.*

Ren: *Chuckling.* You’re so screwed.

Cinder: *Waves them off and glares at Ren.* Ren what the fuck?

Ren: ok let not pretend you did not have that coming.

Cinder: why didn’t you warn me that she was his sister.

Ren: let’s also not pretend like where friends okay

Cinder: ugh whatever

[l0velyrand0m]

Old Soul - The First Avenger

Third chapter, here we go.

I've gotten a reblog and a few likes, so I figured the third chapter was in order. Maybe theres people actually enjoying this, yknow?

As always: The full story in it's entirety is on Wattpad (l0velyrand0m) and there may or may not be a second book in the works? This is all mostly for my enjoyment, there's no demand or anything, I'm just addicted to fictional men punching people.

The prior chapters are on my blog, the first chapter is pinned and the second chapter was posted not too long ago.

"Faster, ladies! Come on! My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul!" Peggy shouted at the soldiers lined up doing push ups on the ground. Eliza watched and observed the men. Erskine had given her the task of watching out for the "least fit" in the group. No idea why, but she was sure it was her brother. Until she overheard Phillips.

"You're not seriously thinking about picking Rogers, are you?" the Colonel asked the doctor next to him, who simply nodded.

"I am more than just thinking about it. He is the clear choice. I'm hoping our Nurse friend over there agrees," Erskine replies. Eliza was thoroughly confused.

"When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my Army base, I let it slide. I thought, what the hell? Maybe he'd be useful to you, like a gerbil," Colonel Phillips explained. Somehow him referring to her brother as a "gerbil" made Eliza almost offended for him. "I never thought you'd pick him."

Eliza walked over to the two men and joined the conversation. "Gentlemen," she greeted. Erskine offered her a small smile.

"Up," Peggy commanded the boys once she saw Erskine, Phillips and Eliza gathered together.

"Doctor Erskine, forgive me," Eliza began. "What is the Super Soldier breed exactly?"

"A Super Soldier is a highly advanced superhuman, given abilities from a serum I invented. It's highly intuitive - made to make the weakest man stronger. But it only amplifies what's already there. Give the serum to the wrong person, and you've just made them more of themselves." Erskine's explanation made Eliza nearly sick to her stomach. She wasn't entirely convinced that Steve would survive such a thing. "Rogers is a perfect candidate. Determined, clever. The serum will do him well."

"You stick a needle in that kid's arm and it's gonna go right through him!" Phillips exclaimed. Eliza almost wanted to agree.

They glanced over to the recruits scurrying to straighten up at Peggy's command.

"Look at that. He's making me cry," Phillips scoffed.

"I am looking for qualities beyond the physical," Erskine says. Eliza was starting to dislike his philosophical speeches.

"Do you know how long it took to set up this project?"

"Yeah, I know."

"All the grovelling I had to do in front of Senator What's-His-Name's committees?"

"Brandt," Erskine corrected. "Yes, I know. I am well aware of your efforts."

"Then throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him," Phillips says. Eliza wrinkled her nose. She didn't want to have to work with Hodge anymore than she already had to. "He's big, he's fast, he obeys orders. He's a soldier."

"He's a bully," Erskine corrected Phillips again.

"You don't win wars with niceness, Doctor." Phillips reached into his pocket and pulled out a hand grenade. "You win wars with guts."

Phillips threw the grenade into the area where the men were training. "Grenade!" and all the men scattered.

Except for Steve.

Steve jumped on the bomb and covered it with his body. Eliza's heart dropped. Peggy stood wide eyed at the boy.

"Get away! Get back!" Steve yelled. He waited for the bomb to go off, but nothing ever happened.

"It was a dummy grenade." Eliza whispered, and looked to Phillips.

"All clear! Back in formation." an officer waved all of them back into line.

"Is this a test?" Steve asked, peering up at Erskine, Phillips and Eliza.

"He's still skinny."

•••

Eliza laid silently on her bunk. She couldn't believe the nerve of Steve earlier. But at the same time... she was astonished. Proud, even. That her brother would think to do that. Suddenly she understood what Erskine meant about choosing Steve over Hodge. Whatever was in the serum wasn't just enhancing the physcial stuff. It would enhance him mentally, too.

A knock at her door drew her attention back.

"It's just me, are you decent?" Steve asked from the other side of the door.

"Decently mad at you, sure," Eliza remarked. Steve sighed. "Yes. It's fine if you come in."

The door opened to reveal her twin brother. She wanted to question how he got over here in the first place, but then she noticed Erskine behind him and assumed the german doctor had something to do with his arrival.

"You have five minutes, then you must return to your barracks. I need to speak with Miss Rogers as well."

Steve nodded and closed the door. "Look, Liza, I never meant to piss you off this bad, I just-"

"You saw an opportunity and you took it. I understand. How do you think I'm here, Steve?"

He smiled slightly. "I'm sorry for being such a jerk, and not listening to you when you were only trying to protect me."

"I should've realised you didn't need protecting. You're not a 16 year old kid in Brooklyn anymore. You're grown up. And I'm proud of you."

Her words sent a stab of remorse through Steve's heart. The words, coming from her, meant the world to him. But he was only recieving them because he made her feel like the bad guy for doing the right thing.

"Thank you, Eliza. I'm proud of you too."

"Five minutes are up, Steven," Erskine said, opening the door. "Say your goodnight and goodbye so I may speak with her."

"Bye, Elizabeth, have a good night."

"You too, Steve," she said, watching him walk out the door.

"Miss Rogers, it's come to my attention that Steven is your twin brother?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've had a knack for taking care of him. So I have a promotion for you once our project starts. You'll be his personal aid. I'll teach you everything I know about the side effects of the serum and what to watch out for starting tomorrow. Are you interested?"

•••

"I know this neighborhood," Steve wonders, looking out the window of the car. "I got beat up in that alley. And that parking lot. And behind that diner."

Peggy stared at him cluelessly. "Did you have something against running away?"

"Yes. Yes, he did," Eliza chimed in.

"You start running, they'll never let you stop. You stand up, push back. Can't say no forever, right?" Steve pondered. Peggy's expression changed from confused to curious.

"I know a little of what that's like. To have every door shut in your face."

Eliza nodded. "It's annoying."

"I guess I don't know why you'd wanna join the army if you're a beautiful dame," Steve wondered aloud. Peggy raised a brow at him, and Eliza looked over with a look of "what the hell". Steve immediately tried to recover. "Or a beautiful... a woman. An Agent! Not a dame. I mean you are beautiful but-"

"Please, for the love of God, shut up, Steve," Eliza groaned.

"You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" Peggy snickered.

"This is the longest conversation I've had with one. Woman aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on," he shrugged.

"You must have danced?"

"Well asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying. And the past few years didn't seem to matter that much. Figured I'd wait."

"For what?"

"The right partner."

The car pulled up by an antiques shop. Peggy and Eliza exited the car, Steve trailing behind, completely clueless. Eliza was too, but she trusted Peggy enough to follow her without question.

"This way," Peggy instructs him.

"What are we doing here?" Steve asked.

Peggy smirked. "Follow me," she says, guiding Eliza and Steve into the shop.

"Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?" the shop owner asks Peggy.

"Yes, but I always carry my umbrella."

The shop owner nods, and Peggy leads the twins to a basement. It opens up into a large circular laboratory. Erskine's team was huddled around the center and around different machines. Steve was lead to the center of the room, however, where a pod was fixed in the floor.

"Good morning!" Erskine greeted the twins happily. He takes Steve's hand and shakes it as someone takes a picture. Eliza hated being in pictures. Something about people seeing her long after she was gone, and there was nothing she could do to tell them not to look. She didn't like that sort of thing. "Please, not now," Erskine shooed the photographer away. Steve looked at the pod curiously.

"Are you ready?" Eliza asked him. Steve only nodded.

"Good! Take off your shirt," Erskine instructed him. Steve did so, and climbed into the pod, laying down on a table. "Elizabeth, go assist Mr Stark, please."

"Yes, sir," Eliza nodded. She walked over to the man, and then it hit her who Stark was. Howard Stark. The genius inventor. "Mister Stark, my pleasure."

Howard turned around to look at her, a smile falling on his face. "You must be Elizabeth Rogers."

"How'd you know that?"

"Erskine was talking you up earlier. Apparently you're a really good nurse?" he comments with a smile.

"Well, I don't like to brag," she shrugged. "But I wouldn't mind the compliment."

"Mister Stark, how are your levels?" Erskine shouted across the room.

"Levels at one hundred percent," he answered. "So is that your brother? Steven?"

"Good!" Erskine replied.

"Yeah, my twin," she answered.

"Interesting. The twin sister of a super soldier, huh? How weird has that gotta be?"

"It's not quite set in yet. He's still gonna be a twig in my mind forever."

"Hope you didn't pick on him when you were younger," Howard smiled. Eliza recalled her mother's sayings, not to pick on him because one day he'll be bigger than her. Though she wasn't sold on it, and she definitely wasn't ready for that to be the case artificially. "We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we're as ready as we'll ever be."

"Elizabeth! Come here!"

"Gotta run, Stark. Nice conversation."

"Yeah.. Yeah let's do this again sometime. Maybe under different circumstances?"

"Maybe."

"How do you like your coffee?"

"Elizabeth!"

"Cream and extra sugar."

Eliza ran off back to the table where her brother lay. Erskine handed her a needle, of what she assumed to be penicillin. "Inject him with this, then come back with me."

"Hey, Steve," Eliza said calmly as she walked over with the needle. "I'm here to inject you with the euthanasia."

His eyes went big before he realised she was joking. "Oh, haha."

She squeezed his skin gently and gave him the shot.

"That wasn't so bad," he said softly.

"That was penicillin."

Steve's mouth formed an "o" as she took the needle away and Erskine came back to his side.

"Serum infusion beginning in five, four, three, two, one," Erskine counted. Eliza wished she could hide in the viewing room with Peggy and Phillips. But here she was. Watching her brother and best friend get experimented on. Steve winced as the serum was injected into him. "Now, Mister Stark."

Howard pulled a lever, and Steve was upright in the pod as the doors closed. Eliza wandered back over to Mister Stark's side as he amps the procedure.

"That's ten percent," he informed Erskine, but pointed it out to Eliza. "Twenty percent. Thirty."

Eliza could start to hear Steve's pained screams as the vita rays transformed his body. She lowered her head slightly and watched the numbers raise with intent on focusing more on Howard's numbers than Steve.

She had focused so hard, that she blocked out all the noise in the room until she heard Steve yell in response to the scientist. "No don't! I can do this."

"Eighty. Ninety. That's one hundred percent."

The power in the lab overloaded, and Stark rushed to open up the pod and get Steve out. Eliza's breaths were shallow as she waited to see what happened to her brother.

Suddenly everyone came rushing out of the observation room and into the lab. She steeled herself and turned her head to look at her brother.

She was shocked. Steven Rogers was now the first successful Super Solider.

[swallowedbyfandom]

Darling sister,

Is Colin still alive? If he has survived the night may I remind you that you are much too pale for mourning colors. Also I am entirely too busy right now to attend a funeral.

If he has not survived, I am sure your mother knows a questionable doctor that can make it look like alcohol poisoning. Or I can help you hide the body? We can say he ran off to the continent out of fear for your response.

Your ally in sanity, against all things Bridgerton,

Kate

Dearest Kate,

Death would be a mercy I shall not provide my boorish husband with. Did Anthony tell you what that drunken fool did? Last night Colin drunkenly boasted to all of White's Gentlemen's club that his seed is so superior even spilling on my bosom managed to impregnate me! As if it was not enough that he has gotten me with child, again! That bastard did it without even spilling in me! How is that even possible?

The beautiful simpleton I married does not even realize that now every horrid gossip will question our new child's legitimacy. I have my staff packing for Colin. I am sending him off for an extended stay with his mother. Let me look Violet in the eyes and explain why he has been exile from our home. I would love to watch that show. He can come back home once he has groveled sufficiently.

I swear the first time some Cad makes a comment about spillage or my bosom I will burn White's club to the ground. Perhaps then Will and Alice can reestablish their club. Their clientele were much better than the entitled snobs found at Whites.

Your irate ally,

Pen

Sister,

I assure you, I warned everyone present that I would not tolerate disrespect towards you. I was very clear that I would not take kindly to any rumors or comments getting around over my brother's inappropriate statement. We also gave Colin a good ear boxing before sending him home to you.

Please do notify me if anyone makes a comment that makes you uncomfortable. There is no reason for you to sully yourself with arson, our family is rich enough that I already have someone on retainer for that. It seemed like a prudent investment when Berbrooke made himself an issue. Lady Whistledown saved me a lot of coin running him out of town when she did.

There is no need for you to physically exert yourself, sister. You should be resting. I know how difficult the early stages of pregnancy can be on you.

Fondly,

Your favorite brother

Dearest Colin,

Albion bought me the most disturbing tale about your conduct at White's last night. I did not believe it for a single second. Sadly I can see you have been exiled to your mother's house. Which must mean there was truth to his accounting of your behavior. Perhaps I set my expectations too high. I am so very disappointed right now.

Oh Colin, I thought you were done drinking to excess and using your words to bring shame to my daughter. I had believed you learned from your mistakes. Instead I hear you were careless in discussing your martial relations. I didn't think I needed to tell you this, but what happens in the bedchambers between a husband and his wife is private. It is not fodder for tales or boasts. Commenting publicly about the intimacies you share with your wife is practically an invitation to others to do the same. I hope we both agree that Penelope deserves better. I hope you understand that I expect better from the man I trusted with my daughter's future.

Love,

Mama Portia

Colin,

Who is Portia's favorite son now? Thank you for blundering in such a spectacular manner. How does defeat taste? Is it as overly salted as you claimed my last cheese spread was?

Ha ha,

Albion

(Note slipped under Colin's door)

Col,

Ben saids Pen sent you here on a time out for your "fool antics". I love you Col but don't get too comfortable. If your presence here means she won't come for tea and tutoring then you will have to move in with Ben. I won't let you ruin this for me! You will not come between us.

Love,

Hyacinth Bridgerton

Apprentice

[ashleyfanfic]

Love your blog! Huge Jonerys shipper and just finished Seaosn 2 of Bridgerton and LOVE Polin! Kantony was amazing too! I am so excited for Season 3! Did you see the trailer! Would love yo know your thoughts! Hope you have a great day!

OH! SO EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT THIS! Thanks for asking.

First, Jonerys will always be my OTP. Yeah, the show ended like a burning pile of dog turds, but in fan fiction they're living happily ever after as they should have. The one good thing is that Kit's show is not going to be made which means they will not be able to profit off Daenerys Death anymore than the already do. Kit, find you another franchise where you can swing a sword. I'll watch it. I sat through Pompeii I can do anything.

Second, I love KANTHONY!!! I mean, the PINING! THE UST! LOVE IT! All the glances and touches and the "You are the bane of my existence and the object of my every desire" yes, sir! PLEASE. Love them. So glad we get to see them happy and in love this season. Just a boon, for sure.

Third, POLIN! Ok, hang on, let me get this out of the way first because it is a huge concern to me. I do not, under any circumstances, want to see Eloise join in with Cressida to make fun of Penelope. I get it, she's hurt, but please don't let her do that because she knows all of the sensitive points about Penelope, not even counting Lady Whistledown. She knows the things she's sensitive about and stands to truly hurt her. I had my former best friend do that to me and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Though, Nicola and Luke were both adamant about their love for Eloise. So, here's hoping.

POLIN - Alright, I'm going to say what I'm sure many other people are thinking -- Colin needs to grovel in apology for what he said. It's already difficult enough for Pen, with her introverted nature, to meet and talk to people. That has been clearly established. But to then have an influential man in the ton declare that he would never dream of courting her? I mean, talk about ruining a girl's chances all around.

There are little things throughout the trailer that fascinate me. One being that I think Penelope isn't going to arrive to one of the balls with her family but fake an illness and stay home. Perhaps after seeing Eloise with Cressida at a garden party earlier that day. Something sparks within her and causes her to no longer lie there, but throw open her wardrobe and we see her getting dressed. We do see Pen see them walk away together. So, I think she comes in late, dressed in a different gown, with a different look. Perhaps she asked Madam Delacroix to make it for her outside of her mother's knowledge. Because we see her standing at the top of a staircase in a red cape and then dramatically allowing it to fall to the ground. Everyone turns and looks. (My favorite thing, is if you look at the crowd, her brother-in-law, Mr. Finch is smiling at her - such a sweet, cheese loving boy!). But Cressida and Eloise look shook. Also, in this same scene we do see Francesca and Pen later talking. This is important to me as it is said in the books, Colin is very close with Franny, especially once he starts traveling and she moves to Scotland. Lady Danbury is obviously speaking with the Queen about the possible matches that could be made. So far, all the writings we've seen about this season show that Mister Dankworth is interested in marriage, but instead of being along the lines of Nigel Berbrook, he's more along the lines of Prince Friedrich. You might root for him if Colin wasn't already in the picture. I have a feeling that while his interest will spark jealousy in Colin, it will also spark confidence in Penelope. Which, judging by some of these awkward convos we see her having with some of the other men of the ton, she really needs. But the sight of them dancing beneath the moonlight in the ballroom, and their heads close together over a book, and Colin having to sit back and watch as a bystander, is too sweet for me to take. Colin is the sort you have to hit over the head and drag him to it. Someone else finding her desirable could spark that wait, what have I missed. We love our leading man, but baby are you dense. The scene where he's sitting back and the flame slowly lights, it's like Colin's love for Penelope. It doesn't happen all at once, but as it grows and glows it gets brighter. Their trope is she falls first, but he falls harder. And in the books, that 100% true. He's my wife this, my wife that. Once he realizes that he's in love with her, there is nothing else that matters to him BUT her.

[cherryredcarousel]

A New World

Village Invasion

Watching Momonga try to use the mirror of remote viewing was like trying to watch a grandpa text on a phone. Eventually he was able to zoom in to which Sebas clapped, "Congratulations my lord, I knew you could do it." "Thanks Sebas, I appreciate your support." Sebas bowed his head slightly, "of course, it is my duty as your personal butler. The soul reason I was created by Lord Touchme was to carry out your orders no matter what they are." Momonga hummed before looking back at the mirror, "Hm is this a festival?" Sebas leaned down to look himself, "no my lord, it appears to be an attack."

A village under attack? It's a group of knights from the looks of it.. "Wonder why their attacking that village?" I leaned forward in my chair as I got a closer look at the situation. "I'm not very sure, let's just leave them be for now." Momonga said as he went to swipe away from the mirror. <Message> Touchme would have done it, besides maybe we can use the village to kind of get information about this new world. <Message end> I looked at Momo. "You know what? How about you go take a look." He gestured toward me to which I stood. "Alright I will." I turned around and opened a portal for Aasim and I. "I'll be back."

On the other side of the portal I was met with two girls, one younger than the other. Two guards stood behind them, one already stricken a slash across the older girls back. "I don't think that was very nice." I said as I fling one of my small daggers into the guards heart. He fell dead as the other one fell back in shock, "what are you?!" He yelled as he picked up his blade, it shook as he stared at my form. "Nothing special, dragon lightning." He screamed with agony before dropping down. Such a weak spell, only fifth tier and yet he dropped like a fly. "Aasim go take care of the knights that wear that armor." He nodded before teleporting away. Now for these two, "are you okay dear," i kneeled down to their level. "Clearly not, as there is a slash on their back. Stupid question me." I reached into my inventory pulling out a healing potion. "Here, it'll heal you." She nervously took it, "is this poison?" They think I'm gonna kill them when I just saved their lives not even two minutes ago, and did they NOT HEAR ME SAY HEALING. "No it isn't, it's a healing potion." She nodded and quickly downed the whole bottle, her wound immediately sewed itself together. "Oh wow, the pains all gone. Thank you!" I nodded and stood back up. "Well then, have you heard of magic?" She nodded, "yes ma'am there's someone who comes to our village who is a magic caster." I hummed before raising my hand, I cast a few protection spells. "That should protect you as long as you stay right there, and here's this in case the spell doesn't work." I threw them two goblin horns, i quickly explained before walking toward the village where Aasim should be done with his task.

"W-what are you?!" A knight said as he groveled below Aasims boot. He did not answer as he lodged his axe into the knights left shoulder. A knight struck his back, his sword shattering. Aasim turned around "now what if you had scratched my armor? The armor gifted to me by my master. I think death wouldn't even suffice for the attempt." Aasim said as he grabbed the man picking him up. The man screamed, Aasim reached around his back ripping his armor plate off and digging his hand into his back, tearing his spinal cord out. "Lay in the ground and die." He said as he threw the knights spine at him. A fraction of the knights ran, Aasim teleported, cutting down the knights as he went. He muttered to himself, counting as he killed. "57....58...59..." he paused, "I have missed one." His blade dropped as he looked around for the 60th knight. "I have failed to eliminate them all." He stood in disbelief.

"Earth to Aasim?" This was the tenth time I've called his name.. He quickly snapped out of it, "my lady!" He threw himself at my feet, his armored faceplate kissing the ground. "I have failed, I failed to kill them all. One got away.." I kneeled down to him, "it's fine, maybe they'll tell their leader about us. Then we'll be famous." I mused as I pat the back of his head. "Now stand up let's talk to the village folk." "Actually I'll do the talking." Momo said as he appeared behind me. "Maybe that's best, after all your best when it comes to talking." I walked beside Albedo as Momo talked. From the looks of it the talking was going well.

I walked around the village as the village chief and Momo talked in a building, Aasim was walking beside me. "Excuse me?" I looked around seeing no one. Hm? I felt a tug on my pant leg, looking down I was met with the cutest kid. "Well hi there." I kneeled down. "Why do you have four arms?" "You dare question my ladies appearance?!" Aasim went to grab his weapon, i lift my hand. "It's fine, but back to your question. Let's just say that I'm very special, maybe one day you'll grow more arms too!" I chuckled. My ears perk as I hear talking of more men coming. I wave bye to the little girl and catch up to my brother who was standing, watching as an group of men on horses came up.

"My name is Gazef Stronoff the chief warrior. I have been ordered by the king to come take care of the invading knights. Your people are safe now, we will protect you." The village chief thanked him, Gazef spoke again after giving our little group a look over. "Who is the man and women with you?" "These two are the ones who have saved our village." I stepped toward, "we are some measly magic users who just so happened to be strolling by when we saw the knights attacking, so we being good people of course took them out." Gazef's stare lingered on me before speaking with Momonga. "General! There are an army of unknown surrounding the village as we speak."

"We can take care of it, no biggy." I smiled.

[honorhearted]

"Well, it seems then that you have not met very many real ladies,” Francesca fired back. “Which is a surprise, really, as I seem to remember you being quite popular with the young women of London.”

"Popular in the way a novelty toy poodle is, I suppose," Benjamin retorted. "And truly, maybe you're right...those women were ladies, but far from ladylike. I hadn't seen so much drooling since my last Setauket banquet."

Francesca's cheeks colored pink, though the sparkle in her eyes belied any potential displeasure. “I hardly think that a penchant for reading makes one brilliant, but surely if it does I cannot take all of the credit for it,” she pointed out. “You are the one who agreed to tutor me, after all. I would not have found half of the books I love if you had not recommended them.”

Benjamin grinned, fondly squeezing her hand on his arm. "If I'd known there would be mutual groveling here, I would've brought a puke bucket," he teased. "Still, I can't argue with your reasoning -- we are, after all, about fifty-fifty on that ground, but surely you recognize that a tutor can only do so much? The progress depends entirely upon one's pupil."

Regardless of his deflection, a giddy warmth filled his heart at the admission that because of his off-hand, albeit excitable recommendations, Francesca had acquired many of the same favorites he held so near and dear.

Francesca wrinkled her nose at him. “I am not saying that I was a saint,” she deflected. “Just that I was the least… rambunctious. Remember that Benedict is your brother too, now. You shall see an entirely different side of him, I’m sure.”

He laughed. "You know, 'Saint Frannie' has kind of a nice ring to it. And if I am to see an entirely different side of Benedict, I at least hope it's the kind that doesn't end with me in a headlock. I had more than enough of that from Samuel."

A sly look filled Francesca's face as she admitted, “I remember pelting Anthony and Daphne with snowballs when we were little – Benedict, Colin, Eloise and I. We had spent hours piling them up, and there truly must have been hundreds.”

"You're right. Your japes truly weren't outlandish. I'm afraid that as my wife, you're going to have to do far better than that," Benjamin teased.

She appeared skeptical. “Don’t tell me that you and your brother never got into mischief. Surely you played pranks on each other.”

"Well, of course," Benjamin allowed, "though it's nothing I ever liked bragging about. Most especially since Sammy did the ol' hand in the water bucket prank on me...the kind where you fill a bucket of warm water, stick your victim's hand inside, and then they end up wetting themselves." Sheepish, he explained, "You married a bedwetter, but only because of his prowess. I certainly made sure to get my revenge. I told everyone in town that Samuel was looking to help out and collect everyone's garbage, so we woke up one morning to a lawn full of refuse. Father was not happy about that one."

"Of course I grabbed you! I had to win somehow, but truly: a real lady wouldn’t have retaliated.”

"Well, it seems then that you have not met very many real ladies,” she shot back, knowing full well that most of the women she spent her time with would not hesitate to engage in a brawl if it meant winning a game. Then again, most of the women she knew were Bridgertons or fond friends thereof. “Which is a surprise, really, as I seem to remember you being quite popular with the young women of London.”

“How unfortunate for you that you were born brilliant. And yes, maybe I am attempting to soften your sensibilities.”

Despite the less-than-flattering way he spoke of his childhood infatuation, Francesca still found herself pleased with his compliment, cheeks flushing pink as her hold on his arm tightened in gratitude. “I hardly think that a penchant for reading makes one brilliant, but surely if it does I cannot take all of the credit for it,” she pointed out. “You are the one who agreed to tutor me, after all. I would not have found half of the books I love if you had not recommended them.”

Then he mentioned the fish prank, and Francesca could not hide her snort of laughter, unable to quite believe that she had told him about that.

“I am not saying that I was a saint,” came her rebuttal. “Just that I was the least… rambunctious.” Still, Ben’s talk of her elder brother did cause a scoff. “Remember that Benedict is your brother too, now. You shall see an entirely different side of him, I’m sure.”

“Having you by my side seems like a fair enough trade…only, you do have me curious about Benedict’s japes. Were they truly so outlandish?”

Francesca thought back, visions of a childhood so full of sunshine and laughter skating past her eyes akin to a familiar storybook. “I suppose not – Although they seemed rather hilarious as a seven-year-old.” A pause later, she glanced back up at him with a soft smile. “I remember pelting Anthony and Daphne with snowballs when we were little – Benedict, Colin, Eloise and I. We had spent hours piling them up, and there truly must have been hundreds.”

That was the life of siblings - Francesca could still hear the laughter even now.

“Don’t tell me that you and your brother never got into mischief. Surely you played pranks on each other.”

[sarascamander]

I finished Quest of Glory and I have so much to say!!!

1. That ENDING??? I love it! The plot twist is chef kiss, the tension and the stake is exploding and the chaos is marvelous! I LOVE IT. I love the ending that keep me begging for me and the if the fifth book wasn't already released, I'll probably be crying and groveling for more!

2. I realised I haven't given any appreciation to the Coven and shame on me! Anadil, Dot and Hester are THE witches. I love their friendship, I love their vibes, I just love them, they're perfect and I'm glad we get to see them more.

3. I love the setting. The last three books were grounded to the school and around it and usually I don't quite like adventure fantasy where they travel the world or something but I think because of how familiar I am with the world now, I absolutely love the fact that we are exploring it and travelling. It's refreshing and interesting.

4. Lancelot! Omg I don't even like him in the previous book but he utterly broke my heart in this one! And I don't care about anything else, I will always love Lady Gremaine.

5. That chapter where Tedros, Agatha, Sophie and Rhian went on a double date and just hang out together — it was so good! I wish that was the ending! It's nice to see them relax and just enjoying each other's company. It's good while it last.

6. Honestly, a book wouldn't complete without Agatha and Tedros relationship drama. If they were not established, I would hate them. But they're working on it and trying to be better and I kinda like that. If they all lovey dovey the whole time I actually would find them boring.

7. I actually like Rhian 😭 why must he do that to me?? I think he and Sophie happened quite abruptly but in the end I could imagine them together! Rhian didn't always indulge Sophie but at the same time adore her, they're adorable together! They have potential! But in reality, he is quite sus and phony. Like plastic.

8. I think it's funny how Sophie was checking Rhian up to make sure he's not an evil psycho like her last boyfriend and Clarissa gives Rhian the parent talk and approves and even Tedros assure Sophie that Rhian is a good man — only for it to end up that he's actually another evil psycho. Poor Sophie, can never have a good love life.

9. Which actually makes me wonder if he's actually interested in Sophie or just using her. I know he needs a Queen but why Sophie?

10. I don't quite like Nicola at first but I think it's more because she's a new character and I warmed up to her significantly as the book progress (read: the moment she and Sophie become friend. I'm bias, sue me.)

[itsalwayswellattheworldsend]

Chapter 1 - Ralph Meets With Love in the Wilderness

Text

Audio

Synopsis:

Ralph and the Lady abscond together, really talk to each other, and some unpleasant truths come out.

Summary:

 "Tell me truly, and beguile me not; for I am a young man, and without guile, and I love thee, and would have thee for my speech-friend, what woman soever may be in the world. Whatever thou hast been, what art thou now? Art thou good or evil? Wilt thou bless me or ban me? For it is the truth that I have heard tales and tales of thee: many were good, though it maybe strange; but some, they seemed to warn me of evil in thee. O look at me, and see if I love thee or not! and I may not help it. Say once for all, shall that be for my ruin or my bliss? If thou hast been evil, then be good this one time and tell me."

Ralph awoke while it was still night, and he knew that he had been awakened by a touch, but like a good hunter or warrior, he was not startled and did not cry out. When he was fully awake, he saw the Lady bending over him, and she said in a kind and quiet voice: “Get up, young man, get up, Ralph, and be silent. Come with me into the woods before dawn, for I need to speak with you.

So he got up and was ready to go with her, his heart thumping with joy, but she stopped him. “No, get your sword and armor in case something bad happens. Put on your chainmail; I’ll help you.” And she held it for him while he put it on. “Now,” she said softly, “put a helmet on that curly hair of yours and strap on your sword, then follow me.”

He did so, and felt her take his hand (for it was still dark as they went into the trees), and she led him into heaven, for he heard her whispering voice and it was like a touch and a laugh of joy in each word.

She led him quickly, not stumbling at all on the paths between the pine trees, though it was as dark as it could be. Ralph thought that at any moment she would stop and tell him what was going on, and that she would then have to leave him, so he prayed that the silence and handholding would last a long time—for he could think of nothing else but her—and in truth it did last a long while. She said nothing, though now and then a small laugh—like the softest warbling of a bird—would come from her lips, and the rippling of her clothes as her swift feet carried her sounded loud to him in the dark, windless wood.

At last, after more than half an hour of walking like this, it grew lighter and he could see her beside him, and she still held his hand and glided on faster and faster, it seemed to him. And soon he knew that outside of the woods dawn was passing into day, and even there among the trees it was hardly darker than twilight.

A little further, and it grew lighter still, and he heard thrushes singing a little way off and knew that they were on the edge of the pine woods, and still she ran swiftly onto the grass, where there was nothing but maples and thorn bushes: it was light here, though the sun was not yet over the trees.

There she let go of his hand and turned to him, her face flushed and excited, and her eyes were very bright and her mouth half-open. He stood looking at her, trembling with eagerness and fear of what she would say when he told her what was thinking, for he had made up his mind to do just that. He took off his helmet and set it on the grass, and he noted that she was only wearing her dress, having left her cloak and coat behind.

Ralph straightened up and was going to speak when she put her hands to her face and shuddered, her shoulders quaking with sobs as she burst out crying so hard that tears flowed between her fingers. Then Ralph threw himself on the ground in front of her groveled before her, wrapping his arms around her knees and pressing his cheek against her skirt, saying many soft words of love while she continued to weep wordlessly. At last she reached down and held his face in her hand, and he let his lips press against it, and they stayed like that a while. Then she pulled him to his feet and led him away quickly once more, and he did not know what to do or say, and he did not dare stop her, and he could not form the words to ask for an explanation.

So they ran across the open ground, unhindered by the trees, he being silent and she never tiring or slowing or faltering in any way, until they came into thick woods again. Whenever he would open his mouth to speak, she would hush him with a “Not yet!” Until at last when the sun had been up for more than three hours, she led him through a stand of hazel trees like a thick hedge and into a clear, grassy place where there were great grey rocks around them, as if they were in the crumbled remains of a circle of standing stones built by some forgotten people. Then she threw herself to the ground and buried her face among the flowers, and was weeping and sobbing again as he bent over her, until she turned to him and drew him down to her and put her hands on his face, laying her tear-streaked cheek against his, then kissed him long and sweetly, so that he almost began crying, himself.

Then at last she said: “This is the first thing that I have said to you since I have brought you away from death, and it is so sweet to me that I can hardly bear it.”

“Oh, and it is sweet to me,” he said, “for I have waited for you for many days.” And he kissed and hugged her as one who would never have enough of it.

At last she pulled away from him a little and, looking at him, smiling with love, she said: “Wait a little, until we’ve spoken some.”

“Yes,” he said, “but may I hold your hand while I wait?”

“No harm in that,” she said, laughing, and she held out her hand to him as she said: “I said that I have brought you away from death, and you have not asked me about that.”

“I will ask you now, then, since you want me to.”

“Do you think that he would have let you live?”

“Who would kill me, when you would let me live?”

“Him,” said the Lady, “your enemy, the Knight of the Sun. Why did you not run from him before? He didn’t want to kill you, just drive you away, but if you were at Sunhome with him, he would run a sword through you, or at least throw you into prison for the rest of your life—or so it seemed to me.” She faltered as she spoke, looking at him.

Ralph said: “How could I leave when you were with him? Did you not see me there? I thought that you wanted me to stay.”

She looked at him with such tender love that he started to throw himself upon her, but she stopped him and smiled, saying: “Ah, yes, I saw you, and I did not think that you would leave me; therefore, I had to be careful.” She touched his cheek with her other hand.

Ralph sighed and furrowed his brow a little, then said: “But who is this man that he should kill me? And why is he a tyrant over you, that you must flee from him?”

She laughed and said: “Fair creature, he is my husband.”

Then Ralph flushed red and he opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him and said: “But he is not quite my husband. Before we got to bed, he cursed me and drove me from his house.” And she smiled, but her face reddened so deeply that her grey eyes looked strange.

But Ralph jumped up, half-drawing his sword and crying out: “I should have killed him! Why didn’t I?” and he angrily paced back and forth across the grass in front of her.

But she leaned forward to him and laughed, saying: “But, my Champion, we will not go back to him, for he is stronger than you and would kill you. We are far from anyone here, but you are being loud—maybe too loud. Come, rest beside me.”

So he went back and sat down by her, and he took her hand again and kissed her wrist and said: “Yes, but he wants you, that was easy to see. It’s bad that I didn’t kill him.”

She stroked his face again and said: “It would be a long story if I told it all to you. After he drove me out and I fled from him, he caught up to me several times, which is not unusual for his brother is the Captain of the Dry Tree, that tall man with whom you have seen me. Each time, this lord has come to me and confessed his love as one who would be in utter despair if I did not love him back but oh, my love with the bright sword” (and she kissed his cheek and held his hand with both of hers) “each time I rejected him.” And again she blushed.

“And his brother,” said Ralph, “the big captain that I have encountered these four times, does he also desire you?”

She laughed and said, “Only as much as other have, no more. He will not kill anyone over me.”

“Did you know that I was waiting for you at the Castle of Abundance?”

“Yes,” she said, “Did I not say that I told Roger to lead you there? That was after the first time we met, after I had ridden off on the horse of that butcher you killed.”

“Why were you so long in coming?” he asked. “Would you have come if I still waited there?”

“What else could I want except to be with you? But I had to travel alone, for our riders had gone north to fight those of the Burg, but as I came to the Water of the Oak, my husband and that other man caught up to me. And this time, all of my refusals were not enough, and whatever I said to him, he demanded that I return with them. But they quickly turned to fighting each other, as you saw.” She looked at him sweetly and honestly, as he had been her dearest brother.

But he said: “You were upset that they were fighting; have you known the Black Knight for long?”

“Yes,” she said,  “I will not hide that he loved me, but he has also betrayed me. It was because of him that the Knight of the Sun drove me away. Pay attention, for this concerns you: he spread a rumor of lies and truths mixed together, saying that I was a witch and an enchantress, and my lord believed him. I was shamed before the entire house, and thrown out in anguish, barefoot and bleeding.”

He looked and saw the pain and grief of the memory in her face, and the fierceness of his loved changed his expression so much that she got up and withdrew a little away, standing and looking at him. But he also got up and knelt before her, and he reached up and took her hands and said: “Tell me truly, and with no tricks, for I am a young man and not wise to uncovering hidden meanings, and I love you, and I would have you as my partner, whatever sort of women there might be in the world. Whatever you have been, what are you now? Are you good or evil? Will you bless me or curse me? For I have heard tales of you: many were good, though strange; but others have warned me of evil within you. Look at me and see that I love you! I cannot help it. Say once and for all, will you be my ruin or my bliss? If you have been evil, then be good this one time and tell me.”

She neither reddened nor paled at his words, but her eyes filled with tears and they ran down her cheeks, and she looked down on him as a woman looks on a man that she loves from the root of her heart, and she said: “Oh my lord and love, I hope that you will find me no worse for you than the best of all you’ve heard. But how can I tell you about myself when you would believe absolutely anything I said? But oh, my heart, how could you, so sweet and fair and good, fall in love with an evil thing? At least I will say this, that whatever I have been before, I am good to you—I am good to you and will be true to you.”

He drew her down to him as he knelt there, putting his arms around her though she still shrank a little from the eager flame of his love, but she gave herself to him and let her body glide into his arms, and loved him no less than he loved her. And there in the wilderness, there was between them all the joy of love that could be.

Notes:

Apparently, Ralph has curly hair.

It specifies the “Seventh Heaven,” which is a mythological/cosmological distinction that I don’t want to pry apart right now for a metaphor, so just suffice to say that he’s very happy.

The “circle of standing stones” is described as a “broken doom-ring of a forgotten folk” which is a really metal way of saying it’s like stonehenge.

The story repeatedly uses the verb “fell” to mean “begin” (such as “they fell to eating” or “fell to talking”) but it also uses it for kissing which makes me laugh for some reason.

I left the line “She laughed and said: ‘Fair creature, he is my husband.’” completely untouched because I love it. This is the second time she’s referred to him as “creature” (though I believe the first time it was “creature of God.” I wonder if anyone else refers to anyone that way in this story?

The exact situation (as she says it) is: “Yet is he not so much my husband but that or ever we were bedded he must needs curse me and drive me away from his house.” Basically, they were married or betrothed or something, but before they had sex he turned on her, kicking her out and then chasing her down.

When I used the word “partner,” the original word is “speech-friend,” which is the word the Maiden used to refer to her missing beau.

A recap of the Lady’s backstory as I understand it (just the part she talks about here). She and the Knight of the Sun were involved and probably wedded, but before they had sex, the Black Knight (probably trying to stop the wedding so that he could have her) lied to the Knight of the Sun and made a believable tale claiming she was a witch (we’ve heard these accusations against her before, and I have no doubt the Knight of the Sun had, too). The Knight of the Sun shamed her publicly and threw her out of Sunhome, and she returned to the Fellowship of the Dry Tree (this all happened some time previously, not in the period of time since Ralph first met her).

The Knight of the Sun, still loving her and wanting her back, pursued her and (since her Captain is his brother) found her many times since she left. She refused to return with him. This most recent time, Walter was with him and they fought each other, which we saw in the story.

I’ve always found the bit here about whether or not the Lady is good or evil very interesting. One would expect that the truth is that she is good, and that all the bad things said about her are simply jealous rumors… but that is not what she says. She isn’t good or evil; she’s human, but she promises to be good to Ralph.

As for their love, remember what I said before about Tomie. The Lady possesses an extreme charisma that draws others to her and entangles them in her love. I’ve hinted before that Ralph possesses some similar power (perhaps hers was at the same level before she drank from the Well?), and the narrative has also given us signs before: I think specifically about the Maiden saying that even if he found bandits in the Wood Perilous, he’d most likely win them over to his side and have them as his own men; and also of Roger who declared his allegiance to Ralph in the Burg (which I took as true, even though he was otherwise deceiving him). Not only is Ralph entangled by the Lady, but she is also somewhat entangled by him. Someone said before that they didn’t think the Lady would ever love some man unless he is one “with whom all women are in love.” This same phrase was also used earlier, where it was said that such people are those most likely to find the Well at the World’s End.  I do believe this will be further expanded upon later.

And one last note: I left the last line relatively unaltered. The original is “And there between them in the wilderness was all the joy of love that might be.” I’ve wondered about this since the very first time I read it, but does this mean they had sex? At first I thought yes, then no, then back to yes, and now I’m not sure. I can say that (despite his religious beliefs), Ralph isn’t too hung up about premarital sex (at the very least in situations where the two people are very much in love and dedicated to one another).

Map updated to show the lake’s name (the Lady called it the “Water of the Oak”).

Map:

[soliloquyepistolary]

In the dream, I am driving and my phone is on the car phone holder on the right hand side. Luke calls me on the phone out of nowhere and we are chatting about some things. There are periods of silence where we don’t say anything such as when I’m preoccupied with driving and it isn’t awkward, it feels natural. He starts saying that he misses me and he wishes he could see me in person. He is trying to ask me if I return the feelings he has for me. I am not really confirming or denying but he is trying to manipulate the truth out of me by being bashful. I am not having any of it, I see through it for what it is and I tell him what’s the point of saying anything, of expressing anything. He believes that we could make something of us but I do not want that, I feel it is a dead end. I do actually have budding feelings for him.  There is a strange attitude coming from my end however during this conversation, because even though he is manipulating me, I am manipulating him right back. It’s fun I see it’s not that serious even though the conversation is serious. We are both playing the game and I am enjoying this. The angst and dramatics of it. There is a smirk on my face and it’s like I’m saying my lines to a movie. I am playing my part convincingly but I know it’s not real. 

I do a U-turn to get into the parking area, there are a few cars waiting to enter this area. I have arrived at some kind of red-carpet event. It’s a high of profile event and I see Elon Musk is here. He has parked a white car right in front of the venue, it doesn’t look as impressive as I’d thought it would be. There is paparazzi and crowds outside. I need to go the toilet so I ask an Asian lady that I find in the car park where the nearest toilet is. She leads me downstairs to a room that looks like a typical Asian household setting, like lower socio-economic status. There are a few older family members just sitting around and it’s like everyone is waiting to hear news of the event.

A doctor comes into the dispensary into the second medication aisle and and starts looking at stock (I think anti-biotics since so many are in short supply) to see what he can prescribe and he drops a box of tablets on the ground. He doesn’t pick it up, at least straight away and I get really angry because he is being disrespectful. I am telling him off and being really firm, I am saying ‘you need to pick that up, pick it up!’. He is being rude and refusing so I escalate it further saying you need to apologise to me. I am demanding to be apologised to. There is a clash of egos. I don’t want this doctor think he is better than me, walking all over me.  I am trying to show that I am not to be trifled with or taken advantage of. On some level, it feels like I am just acting here, I am not really mad at him. It’s like I am (over)reacting in this way only so that SM can hear (I know he must be within earshot) and be emotionally influenced by what is occurring. I want him to feel bad. Essentially, I am trying to manipulate him because I feel he owes me an apology for the things that have transpired between us in the last few weeks but I don’t how to ask outright. At the same time, I don’t want to grovel for an apology so this is my way to desperately make things right again between us. But the thing is, what’s the point if I even have to do act like this?

[fangirleaconmigo]

I so share your opinion on the word butcher and the meaning for Geralt and I hate the writers for choosing that particular word. I can't accept that they don't associate it with racism bc that was the whole point of the first episode and they made it obvious how much Geralt hate being called like that. But the sad truth is that seeing some of Lauren's tweets she really seems clueless with such things. And knowing what happens at the end of the lady of the lake, it makes it even worse. Also I don't understand the people who wanted Geralt to ask for forgiveness for his behavior in 1x06 but are completely fine with the song. One was having a bad behavior towards a person privately, he was lashing out and he definitely should ask for forgiveness but it was a private fight, no call for hate for jaskier. The other was telling to a crowd that hates the witchers and considers them monsters, that in fact they are monsters. I hope they revisit that in the future but I doubt it. Thanks for your metas.

Thank you!

I find it so interesting. Geralt and Jaskier’s conflict is like a Rorschach blot test for viewers. I mean, all art is. But how we respond to fictional conflicts has everything to do with our own personal flaws, experiences, and traumas.

For example, that scene on the mountain and how someone responds to it, usually says something about whether that person is typically the person who loses their temper or if they are the one who people have lost their temper on.

And to complicate it further, how do people feel about the relationship up to that point? The big theme of their relationship is that Geralt refuses to call him his friend. He refuses to admit he likes him, and even refuses to use the word.

So. Do you (the general you) think that Geralt very obviously cares about him and is just being grumpy? Or do you feel that Geralt barely tolerates him? That probably depends on your own values or expectations of friendship.

Then FURTHER complicating THAT is the fact that there is little actual development of that friendship “on screen”. The friendship is drastically underwritten relative to the emotional role it must play. So we are all operating from different impressions of what that relationship is like day to day.

I have been on witcher Twitter, Witcher tumblr, ao3 and (until recently) discord almost every damn day since the show came out. So I have seen every possible characterization and opinion on their conflict. And at this point in the fandom, there has been backlash, backlash to the backlash, and another round of backlash to that as far as how people feel about, or characterize it.

But I digress.

Then we finally get S2 and we find that Geralt actually left him on the mountain and hasn’t returned to find him or apologize the entire time, and Jaskier is singing Burn Butcher Burn, a song that I find (I’m with you on this one) completely inextricable from racism and bigotry.

So.

If I were to acknowledge and perceive Burn Butcher Burn, here is how I see it “in world”. (this is not an endorsement, babes I’m just talking)

You know how someone is mean to you and you lose it? Maybe stuff has built up or you’ve got other shit going on? So you react with such disproportionate spite that you INSTANTLY lose all high ground? Two second ago you wanted an apology and now your dumb clown ass has to grovel? Lmao

That’s how I see this. So now you know my very personal individual reaction to it based on my own psyche.

Geralt said some cruel shit. That sucks. It’s not ok to yell at people you love and talk to them that way. An apology would have been in order. I personally hate being yelled at with my whole heart and soul. But if I love someone enough to be friends with them for 20(!) years, I’m gonna forgive someone a mistake in the heat of the moment. People make mistakes.

Now we find out that Geralt apparently left him there without saying a single word. That’s worse. He would have a long way to go to make up for that. If Jaskier didn’t want to he his friend anymore that would be his decision.

But Jaskier?

Burn Butcher Burn???????? Since we have established that I associate that with racism and bigotry against Geralt, and it is unquestionably associated with one of his worst traumas this side of the trials, I literally cannot think of many things more singe-your-eyebrows off cruel. Joey played it with such amazing grief and emotion. But even so. How long was he singing that? How many people did he sing it to? Over and over and over? And publicly?

The facts of it can’t overcome even that gorgeous performance.

It is, for me, from my perspective, unthinkably cruel.

I’ve had people say to me “haven’t you said anything out of cruelty?”

And to that I’d say two things. First, haven’t you ever loved someone so much that no matter how you break up, whether they are in your life or not, there is always a part of you that will protect them? Have you? I have. And the second and most significant bit it…if bigotry is not in you, it doesn’t matter how hurt or drunk you get, it still ain’t in there.

So again, we’re back at the various ways you can look at the word Butcher.

So. If I have to put this “in world” I have to believe that either Jaskier doesn’t make that connection, or is in such grief that it’s like a fugue state and he doesn’t grasp the reality of what he is doing.

Then if I were writing their reunion, I would have the reality, the full weight of what he’s done just drop on him like a load of bricks the moment he sees Geralt’s face in the flesh.

And he would apologize. And I would write Geralt responding in the most emotionally devastating way possible: by instantly forgiving him.

Yeah. It’s fine.

Because deep down, Geralt has always suspected he is actually a butcher or a monster.

And that has to devastate Jaskier because he has worked SO HARD for SO LONG to get Geralt to see himself as a good man.

And in the end, he is the one that has pushed the ability to do that out of Geralt’s grasp. Because if the friend who loves him most sees him that way the minute he hurts him, well then, it must be true.

I think it’s a long way back from that one. And though Geralt forgives him, he never forgives himself.

But of course I’m not writing the show.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone and welcome to my second update. I wasn’t certain about the kind of reaction and feedback I would get from the public about this fic. But so far it has been wonderful! Thank you so much to all the people that liked, reblogged and commented.

I personally love to see Gojo grovel at y/n’s feet. It’s not often we get to see the mighty Gojo Satoru all weak for that one person. Yes I am a sadist lol and if you are enjoying this fic, so are you! Lol

English is not my first language so if you notice any grammatical, structural or spelling mistakes please bare with me, I am doing my best.

PS: This fic does deviate from the canon since in my story Suguru never got killed nor is his body possessed by a cursed spirit. He is living and well. As he deserves, because I love him. ❤️

Series Master List

II.

(1 month ago)

Suguru Geto was not a very social man so to speak, he didn’t have many friends except for an eccentric and rambunctious blue eyed sorcerer, a gloomy lady doctor who was probably dissecting some dead body at the morgue of the Jujutsu Tech and of course… the lovely Y/N L/N well… now Y/N Gojo.

It was rather odd how both Satoru and Suguru had met Y/N. They were in their early twenties, in a mission as per usual. A special grade curse in a ballet studio. When they went in there all they found was a beautiful young woman immersed in her own world dancing to the mellow notes of “Kissing You by Des’ree.

They went in expecting as per usual to find the nasty, rotten decay of a curse taking over and what they found instead was nothing of the sort. Satoru’s six eyes saw clearly the lingering cursed energy floating around but it was oddly not attacking her. It was almost as if her dance and the music had appeased the curse’s destructive wrath, it had… distracted it. They would have to wait, standing on that spot with their feet stuck on the ground, unable to remove their eyes from the beautiful vision in front of them. Her precise and elegant movements, infused with the strength of her muscles to perfectly execute them in what looked like an effortless sequence…. Hypnotising, was the word.

The duo couldn’t very well try and exorcise a curse when an innocent and beautiful civilian was in the middle so they settled for giving her some time to be done and abandon the place before they could get to work.

When she was done, a thin layer of sweet clung to her S/c skin. Wiping her face softly with a towel she picked up her belongings, turned off the music and the lights; putting on a light beige jacket she finally left the building. As soon as she crossed the door the curse woke up from its lethargic state. What in the fuck was that!? They had never seen a curse stopping to enjoy artistic beauty before.

After quickly disposing of the curse both men looked into each other’s eyes as if to say ‘who the hell was that?’ In silent agreement they followed the woman and soon caught up to her walking down the dark streets of Tokyo while listening to her music in her earphones. Oblivious to her surroundings she almost got hit by a vehicle, that is exactly when Satoru warped to her and pulled her away from the danger.

The young woman was surprised when the lights of a car flashed before her eyes and just as suddenly she was pulled away; looking up she found a platinum haired blindfolded man holding her in his arms with a wide grin saying “that was a close call doll!” She blushed noticing his handsome features perfectly visible despite the garment hiding his eyes. The closeness of his body made her heart beat increase. In that moment Suguru arrived, running and asking “are you alright?” Concern noticeable in his rich and velvety baritone voice. Looking up to the newly arrived raven haired man she blushed even deeper. “I… uh, I’m alright!” She quickly added, forcing her brain to work “sorry! I was distracted… but, thank you for that!” she quickly added with a little smile moving away from the extremely tall snow haired man who moments ago had her stuck to his body. “That’s alright!” Replied Satoru, his smirk growing even wider if possible “we were here to save the day!” Winking at her with the cheesiest line ever “but allow me to introduce myself! My name is Gojo Satoru and this is my friend Geto Suguru”

A little nervous and embarrassed she collected herself to reply “nice to meet you both! My name is Y/N L/N”. Satoru was the first one to answer “Y/N L/N? Where are you from?” Asked with childish excitement to the clearly foreign woman. Her features, eyes, hair and skin color made it obvious she was not Japanese. Her exotic beauty was nevertheless captivating.

-

A knock at the door interrupted Suguru from traveling down memory lane. Sighing he stood up from the couch where he had been lounging with a book he was pretending to read while reminiscing. When he opened the door, the sight shocked him “are you alright?! What is wrong?!” y/n was at his door, her beautiful e/c eyes red and puffy from crying, looking devastated and in the middle of a panic attack. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug asking what was happening, where the hell was Satoru?! But when he mentioned his best friend’s name her crying intensified.

“Sugu…” in a trembling and cracked voice she started “he is cheating on me… with another woman…” he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t even breathing. Those words simply struck a cord within his chest that made something snap inside like a rubber band.

He didn’t want to overreact, what with her current state, it wouldn’t do any good “are.. you sure?” He asked in a whisper stroking her back while she hugged him holding onto him for dear life. She nodded and then she cried harder.

“Yes…” whispered the woman against his chest “I hired a private investigator and he gave me the pictures and all the confirmation I needed”.

In all the years he had known Y/N he had never seen her so… distressed, broken… frail. She usually was quite the opposite. Energetic, full of life, fire and spunk. Ready to take down anyone, even Satoru himself. Which was probably why Satoru had been so smitten. No woman ever had treated him the way she did, as if he was just another normal guy. It forced the egocentric jujutsu sorcerer to have a humility check rather often; oddly he enjoyed the feeling of being treated like a normal person. She appreciated him for who he really was aside from his name, the money and the power. She saw right through him.

Seeing her in this deplorable state, a carcass of herself was heart breaking to Suguru who had strong feelings for her.

Suguru wasn’t surprised she had hired a detective, she was smart and resourceful. “I,..” controlling his rage he softened his voice “I am sorry kitten” said calling her by her given nickname. “What can I do for you?” Asked stroking her tresses, trying to comfort her while attempting to appease the anger inside him. “I… don’t know” a broken whisper was suffocated against his damp chest “I want to leave…” continued “would you… help me?”.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” Asked calmly wiping away her tears. The h/c nodded. “I will help”.

That is how they both had planned everything in detail. She wanted to disappear from the map which normally shouldn’t be too complicated but when you have THE Gojo Satoru hot on your trail it became extremely challenging. Getting a fake identity, passports, money, bank accounts, airplane tickets, picking what places she would go to and what name she would change to every time was a tough task but she had decided she didn’t want anything to do with Satoru anymore.

Suguru even offered to come along since he didn’t want her traveling alone but she refused. He understood she needed time alone to heal; at least he still could keep in touch and help her through her journey.

—-

(Tonight)

Satoru didn’t even bother to knock at the door of his best friend’s apartment, he warped right in the middle of his living room where he found Suguru with a glass of whiskey in hand and a book on the other. The dark haired sorcerer arched an eyebrow while staring at a frenzied looking Satoru.

“Where is she?” White disheveled hair framed two crystal blue eyes with blown pupils that took in his surroundings, examining every corner as if he was expecting to find a clue to his wife’s whereabouts. He just knew Suguru would know where she was. Y/N and Geto were very close and Satoru was not ignorant about the obviously one sided infatuation he had with his woman. But it was all platonic and y/n would never do anything suspicious, he trusted her with his life!

“You would have to be more specific Satoru” retorted in a calm tone before taking a sip from his drink. Finally setting the glass on the coffee table in front of him.

“Oh don’t fucking play that bullshit game with me Suguru! Where is MY wife?”. Geto watched his friend while he tried to contain his anger, the tense posture, muscles contracted, energy cracking around him…Satoru was about to go feral. “And how am I supposed to know where YOUR wife is? Isn’t she your wife? Shouldn’t you know here to find her?” Now he was just poking the bear.

Satoru smirked, a dark and terrifying gesture “don’t fuck with me Suguru and just tell me what I want to know”.

“I don’t know…” was his meek answer. Suguru stood up and walked to the window looking at the night lights of the city bellow “she said you would come here first looking for blood so she made sure not even I knew where she was going” answered in a careless tone as if he was talking about the weather instead of Satoru’s wife leaving him.

———> Chapter 3

Tags: @Sleepyamaya, @Cloudsinthecosmos, @Jxvajxy, @satoruhooraaa

[engie-ivy]

Minerva isn't sure she can protect Remus Lupin any longer now a student has been injured the night of the full moon. Especially when Walburga Black is demanding repercussions for her son, after what was clearly a Werewolf attack. Sirius Black, however, tells a very different story.

Lupine Lawlessness

“This is outrageous!” Walburga Black immediately rounds on Minerva the moment the woman strides into the Hospital Wing, her voluminous robes billowing behind her.

Minerva notices Mrs Black barely spares her injured son in the bed a glance. She also notices how the boy slightly shrinks in on himself as he hears her voice. Then, Mrs Black is standing in front of her, and all her attention is directed at being on the receiving end of Walburga Black’s fury.

“I knew you and that old fool would be the ruin of this school. It’s one thing that the place is infested with Halfbloods and Mudbloods, but harbouring a Dark Creature?”

“Mrs Black,” Minerva says politely. “I understand this must be very distressing for you as a mother, and I’m very sorry indeed, but we are yet to establish what happened.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” Mrs Black spits. “That type of claw marks, on which Healing Magic has no effect, while yesterday was a full moon? It’s very clear what has attacked him, and that thing had no business being on school grounds.”

Minerva herself has put two and two together as well. It was easier for her, as she’s aware there’s a student infected with Lycanthropy attending Hogwarts. A student who also happens to have been a close friend of Sirius Black.

Oh, she had really thought they were going to pull it off. They had come so far. She had been sceptical at first. A Lycanthrope attending seven years of Hogwarts without any incidents, without anyone finding out? It appeared unlikely, but she had agreed to try. And then she met Remus Lupin, and she had been very glad she did so. The boy was sweet, modest, hardworking and clever, and he deserved to have a proper education, but also to be around peers, make friends, and have fun. Now, when she had really started to believe it was going to be alright, the worst had happened. A student had been attacked.

It’s not difficult to reason out what must’ve happened. Sirius Black must’ve seen his friend disappear into the tunnel below the Whomping Willow, and had decided to go after him, only to end up face-to-face with a full-grown werewolf.

Minerva’s first reaction had been relief. Relief that Sirius Black was going to be okay. Some nasty injuries that would leave some nasty scars, but no permanent damage, which is quite a miracle. It could’ve been much, much worse.

But relief had quickly been replaced with worry. While the headmaster and herself can get in serious trouble for allowing a Lycanthrope in the vicinity of children, her worry was mostly for Remus Lupin. The world is unfairly cruel to Lycanthropes. Graduated from Hogwarts, with his formidable grades and excellent recommendations from his teachers, the boy would’ve at least had a chance, but being expelled from Hogwarts... His only option might be The Werewolf Camps in the mountains, where Lycanthropes go if they have nowhere else to go, which, regrettably, is often. Stories about those camps make your stomach churn, and it’s not a place for a boy like Remus Lupin to be.

Sirius Black must surely know it was Remus Lupin who did this, and he has every right to be angry. School is supposed to be a safe place, not a place where an unsuspecting student can suddenly be mauled by a Werewolf. Minerva doesn’t know if, or how, she can protect Remus Lupin from the consequences.

“The House of Black is a highly esteemed family,” Mrs Black goes on. “A Black being attacked by such an inferior creature without any repercussions would be an insult to our family name. It’s already a great show of disrespect that you even allowed this to happen, and we do not tolerate disrespect.”

“I truly regret the situation,” Minerva says, hoping to sooth the other woman. “At Hogwarts, any student should be safe from any kind of danger-”

“But this was not just any student or any kind of danger,” Mrs Black interrupts. “This was the Noble Blood of Black being spilled by a filthy monster that should be removed from society!”

“Really, Mrs Black, we are yet to determine-”

Once again, Minerva is interrupted, this time by the arrival of a man.

“Lady Black, my apologies for my tardiness, but I came as you requested,” he says, ignoring Minerva in favour of focusing all his attention on Mrs Black. The man is short, with sharp eyes and a pointy face, and he looks at Mrs Black with reverence.

Mrs Black scoffs. “Quit wasting time then and get to work.”

The man starts opening his briefcase, taking out a quill and parchment.

“What is the meaning of this?” Minerva demands. “Who are you? What business do you have here?”

“Mr Hesner is from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Mrs Black replies. “And he’s here at my request to make a report of the situation.”

The colour drains from Minerva’s face. Being expelled is bad, but nothing compared to an official Ministry report. If a Lycanthrope is reported to have somehow been involved in an attack on a witch or wizard, the Lycanthrope will get the annotation ‘Feral’ in the Registry. All hopes of ever finding a job or a place to live will be lost. The Lycanthrope will have to report at the Ministry at frequent and irregular times, and any failure to report will lead to the Lycanthrope immediately being locked away. The Lycanthrope will be out on the streets without any money or prospects, and even the smallest transgression will lead to being locked up. Almost every Lycanthrope with the ‘Feral’ annotation will be either locked up, or forced to flee to the mountains within a year. Remus Lupin certainly does not deserve such a fate.

“Is... is that really necessary?” Minerva asks.

“Very necessary indeed,” Mr Hesner replies. “If you had any sense of morality, you would’ve contacted us yourself, Ms McGonagall. Luckily, we could count on Mrs Black to do the right thing,” he says, with a grovelling smile in her direction.

“Can you imagine if that beast would’ve bitten him?” Mrs Black shudders. “What a stain on the family tree that would’ve been, to have a Lycanthrope in the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black!”

To make sure no one will make the mistake of confusing her fear for shame on the Black family name with fear for her son’s well-being, she doesn’t mention that her son might not have survived the bite, or that he would’ve had to live with an extremely painful, chronic condition for the rest of his life. She probably would’ve burnt the boy off the family tree herself, and sent him to go live in the mountains.

“That would’ve been such a waste,” Mr Hesner agrees, before turning to Sirius Black. “Well, young Mr Black, I need an official statement containing your description of the events.”

Sirius Black looks thoughtful for a moment. “I was... attacked. By some kind of creature.”

“Describe the attack please,” Mr Hesner instructs without looking up from his parchment, quill at the ready.

“Oh, the creature was... round.” Mr Hesner’s eyes snap up, but Sirius Black continues. “Like pumpkin-shaped. But huge. Like a huge pumpkin. Only covered in bright yellow feathers. With bulging eyes in between. And two glittering horns on top of its head.”

“You’re treating this like some kind of a joke!” Mr Hesner says accusingly, pointing his quill in Sirius Black’s direction.

“Why, sir,” Sirius Black says, pretending to be shocked. “I protest. I would never!”

“If you can’t be serious...” Mr Hesner says, gritting his teeth.

Sirius Black blinks innocently at him. “Ask anyone, Mr Hesner, and I’m sure they’ll all tell you that I’m always Sirius.”

“I’ve dealt with Magical Creatures for longer than you have lived, boy,” Mr Hesner spits. “And I know such a creature as you described does not exist.”

Sirius Black shrugs. “Who knows what creatures the Forbidden Forest hides?”

“Did the attack meddle with his brain?” Mrs Black demands.

Minerva shakes her head. “Madam Pomfrey has assured me that his mental state is unaltered.”

“So I have to believe he was attacked by a horned ball of yellow feathers?” Mrs Black snarls.

“Who knows what creatures the Forbidden Forrest hides?” Minerva repeats Sirius Black’s exact words. Sirius Black gives her a pleased smile, which she gladly returns.

Mrs Black, on the other hand, gives her a nasty glare, and then switches her attention to Mr Hesner, who shrinks in on himself. “His chest is covered in Werewolf marks the day after a full moon. It’s obvious what happened even without his statement.”

Mr Hesner gulps. “I... I’m sorry, lady Black. I’m not allowed to report an attack without an official statement from the victim. I mean, only if the victim had died I could’ve...” He trails off.

Mrs Black now directs her glare at her son, like she regrets the last isn’t the case. “I’ll make you pay for this.”

Sirius Black becomes even more pale, but he continues to defiantly meet his mother’s gaze.

“I do not tolerate anyone threatening my students,” Minerva speaks.

Mrs Black turns her head to her. “He’s my son. I can do whatever I want when it concerns him.”

Minerva takes a step forward. Her eyes are like stone and her voice is like ice. “Not in my school.”

To her great satisfaction, Mrs Black takes a step back and swallow. She quickly recovers though, and pulls her cloak tighter around herself. She gives Sirius Black a quick glance and hisses “I’ll see you this summer,” before walking out of the room in quick strides, Mr Hesner having to dribble to keep up, her robes billowing behind her in that way only purebloods ever seem to manage.

“Are you quite done?”

Minerva turns around to see Poppy standing behind her, her arms crossed over her chest. “Really, you don’t have to be a professional to know that a recovering patient needs rest, not all this uproar and noise. That goes for you too, Minerva. You might run this school after Albus, but I run the Hospital Wing. Now leave. My patient needs to sleep.”

A few days later, Minerva makes her way over to the Hospital Wing. Sirius Black has had some days to recover, and luckily, his recovery is going well. She hopes he has also been able to process everything that happened.

A difficult conversation still needs to be had.

She’s immensely glad Sirius Black hadn’t wanted to report Remus Lupin at the Ministry, but still, he could’ve been killed, and she can’t imagine he’ll be okay with there being no repercussions at all. She thinks she might be able to talk him out of demanding Remus Lupin to be expelled, and in the best case scenario, she can convince him to keep it quiet.

It’s not that she thinks Sirius Black is in any way cruel or anything like his family, not at all. She has a very high opinion of the boy. It’s just that Lycanthropy prejudice is very strong throughout the Wizarding World. Even the best person has some negative thoughts regarding Werewolves. The sentiment is especially strong among the pureblood community, and Sirius was raised with their norms and values. Regardless, she can’t imagine anyone would be okay with finding out a person they thought they knew is a Lycanthrope. Remus Lupin will definitely have to move out of the boys’ dormitory, maybe even to a private room. No one would be willing to keep sharing a dorm with someone that tried to kill them. Maybe she can-

Minerva stops in her tracks as she reaches the Hospital Wing, all thoughts of appeasing Sirius Black disappearing from her head.

Sirius Black isn’t alone. Remus Lupin is with him. Like actually with him on the bed. Remus Lupin is curled up at Sirius Black’s side, his hands gripping Sirius Black’s robes and his head resting on Sirius Black’s chest. Sirius Black has one arm firmly wrapped around Remus Lupin, and with his other hand he’s gently threading his fingers through Remus Lupin’s hair. The boys haven’t noticed her presence.

“I am so, so, so sorry,” Remus says, and probably not for the first time.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I did it.”

“You can’t control it.”

“I could’ve stayed away from you,” Remus argues. “I can control that. A filthy monster that should be removed from society.”

Sirius huffs. “That’s just a bunch of pureblood bollocks only stuck-up twats with half a brain still living in the Middle Ages actually believe.”

“Your mother thinks so.”

“I rest my case.”

Remus chuckles and presses his face closer to Sirius’ chest. “I can barely believe you’re real. I don’t deserve you.”

“Moony,” Sirius says with a sigh. “I told you, The Wolf wasn’t even trying to hurt The Dog. You weren’t feral! The Wolf wanted to play, and didn’t know his own strength, and kind of forgot dogs aren’t as strong as Werewolves. Even transformed, you never meant to hurt me.”

The Dog? An absurd thought enters Minerva’s mind, a thought that surely sheds a different light on what may have happened. Absurd for sure, but also... plausible? And if anyone can do it...

No. Minerva firmly pushes the thought away. It might be true, or it might not be. Either way, she doesn’t need to know. After all, what you don’t know, you can’t report to The Ministry.

“And even if The Wolf fancied himself some Padfoot for breakfast,” Sirius continues. “I still wouldn’t have blamed you. It’s not you.”

“You’re going to have a scars for the rest of your life,” Remus murmurs against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius gently tilts his head up. “Then it’s a good thing I think scars are sexy,” he says with a wink, making Minerva wonder whether it might be more than just close friendship she’s looking at.

A faint blush spreads across Remus’ cheeks, and he slightly shakes his head. “You can’t accept my apologies that easily.”

“Oh no, Moony. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sirius says, tapping his finger fondly against Remus’ nose, which again makes Minerva question their level of intimacy. “I have, in fact, not accepted your apologies, as I refuse to accept an apology for something someone could’ve done nothing about.”

Remus scrunches up his nose. “You’re stubborn as a mule.”

Sirius chuckles. “I could teach mules in stubbornness. But if you insist on making it up to me, I suppose you can help me win the bet.”

“The bet?”

“I’ve made a bet with Prongs that I can make at least half of the Gryffindors believe I was attacked by a pumpkin-shaped yellow feather ball, while Prongs says I won’t even make ten.”

Remus shakes his head. “You’re an idiot,” he says, though it sounds fond.

Sirius grins. “But you love me.”

Remus leans forward and presses a kiss against Sirius’ lips, making Minerva blink, but confirming her doubt. There must be something more between those boys for sure.

Remus pulls back, but gently rests his forehead against Sirius’. “Merlin, I do love you, Sirius Black.”

“I love you too, Remus Lupin.”

Minerva smiles to herself. There’s no need to worry after all. If one thing is stronger than prejudice, it’s love.

[kingandfireheart]

Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

[fanficsrusz]

POWER - Henry Cavill Smut

Warnings: Smut.

Pairing: Y/n x Henry cavill

Summary: Y/n's plan to seduce Henry backfires but in a wondrous way.

Word Cound: 7.7k

A/N: Its been a while since I've posted anything and I feel a little nervous 😅. However I've missed the thrill of creating a world all of my own. I also apologise for any spelling/grammatical mistakes. I havent edited anything for a long time so yeahhh. 

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️

"You're drunk" 

The accusation, issued through Henry's teeth, was an angered hiss and Henry's reaction was everything that Y/n could have wished for… And more. 

Y/n forced a little hiccup, feeling it bubble its way through her body before it made its escape out of her mouth, and almost laughed at the thin set of lips across from her that stayed in a straight line. 

He looked positively prim - just like he always did. 

"No-" she defended, "-I'm happy". The correction came with a sly smile, her upper body leaning towards him across the bar, her inner amusement increasing as she watched his body stiffen in annoyance.

 Henry was keeping a distance between their bodies, as if he thought her intoxication may be infectious. 

The hold he quickly took to her waist was more of a brace rather than an intention as she swayed forward and then backwards. 

"Don't you want me to be happy, Henry?" 

Y/n pouted, tilting her head back and looking at him with what she hoped would be a sultry invitation. She laughed, a bold, wicked sound that drew a few glances from others in the bar. Henry stared stiffly over her head, swallowing the lump in his throat that had seemed to form as he grew more irritated with the woman's involuntary outbursts. 

 "For God's sake, Y/n, control yourself", he whispered tightly. 

Was he embarrassed by her lack of inhibition? No. It was quite the opposite. He felt… lost. As if he had no idea how to act in the situation he had found himself in. 

It was normal for him, the playboy, to taunt her with his fancy words, to distract her with his sinfully dark looks and honeyed phrases, but turn the tables and he wasn't quite so poised himself and Y/n felt a delicious thrill of power at the knowledge that she had him off balance. 

She deliberately let herself go  limp in his arms, and, when his grip relaxed in relief at the stability her body found, she quickly slipped under his guard, pressing the entirety of her body sinfully against him. 

Her tactics immediately threatened to backfire as Henry's coldly rigid body seemed to be generating an incredible amount of heat and that in itself was enough for her to lose focus of her goal. 

She rested her check against his chest and willed away her trembling response even as she measured his annoyance by the wildly uneven thump of his heart. 

"You'll regret this tomorrow," he told her sternly, his hands tightening painfully on her waist.

"'Why in hell did you drink all that champagne? Do you want to make a total fool of yourself, jeopardise a deal with Dere-?" 

"Rubbish. Derek thought I was as graceful as ever; he told me so," y/n said airily, thinking that it was too late to regret drinking at a business meeting with her boss and other potential clients. 

Y/n moved steadily in his arms to prove it, brushing her breasts against his chest, hoping that the crushed velvet of her dress would hide the multitude of her sins that had seemed to accumulate quickly throughout the night and not to mention the past year that she had worked beside Henry, every single dirty thought she ever had about him portraying itself as nothing more than a red stain upon her cheeks and chest. 

She had never been sinful before, always a dutiful daughter, just as she had later been a faithful business partner to Henry but there was only so much a woman could take before she had to take drastic measures. Now she was neither a daughter nor a business partner. She was Y/n Y/l/n. Herself. A woman before anything else and more specifically a woman with needs. 

"You're the only one who thought I was wrong for declining the partnership" , she drawled mockingly, too caught up in her reckless self-absorption to monitor his surfacing awareness. "Chill out, Henry. If you can't fix it with a snap of your fingers, you might as well lie back and enjoy the open bar…" 

The thud of his heart had settled down to a swift, arrhythmic beat that set up a sympathetic vibration throughout her body from her scalp to the soles of her restless feet.

There was a small pause as he manoeuvred her pliant body away from another couple that wanted to get to the bar. Then he tilted his head to look down at her.

 "Chill out?" Amusement leaked through his iron control as he suppressed the grin he held in tight. " wow- I never thought I'd hear street-slang from that elegant, business-lady mouth of yours…". 

For a second Y/n gulped, thinking she had lost all control of the situation that she had perfectly built up all evening but then Y/n moved dreamily against him, fully immersed in her ideal scenario. 

She linked her arms round his back and arched her neck slightly so that she could see his expression. 

"But I'm not a lady tonight, Henry, I'm a woman," she said huskily.

 "Should I lie back and enjoy that too?" he enquired cynically. 

That conjured up indecent images that for a moment left Y/n shocked, breathless even and if it wasn't for the distant sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the bar then she would have stayed in her trance like manner. 

Her lips parted as she tried to say something sophisticated in response but she couldn't think of a thing and for a moment she feared that she had lost the edge. Y/n bit her lower lip and suddenly he had control over her again, his voice rough with threat, as he gave her a small shake.

"Behave yourself, Y/n. Stop being so fucking provocative. You should go home" 

"I'm not ready to go home yet" she mewled, eyes darting over to the dance floor that served as a pick up ground. 

Henry sighed, his eyes following her gaze

"One dance, that's all you get. Then I'm getting you out of here before you start leaping onto table-tops and doing the can-can!" 

"What a killjoy you're turning out to be, Henry" with fresh fury, she suddenly spun out of his arms and danced freely for a few moments before cutting mischievously in on another couple. Soon Henry was glaring murderously over the shoulder of a blonde woman while Y/n languished in the sweaty grasp of a nervous young man who was very aware of the hovering blue-eyed menace.

 When Henry cut back in a short time later, Y/n was relinquished with ill concealed relief. 

"You're playing with fire, Y/n" , Henry warned, his firm hand taking hold of her again. This time he held her so captively close that she could feel the lines of his suit being imprinted on her velvet dress. 

She had the feeling that if he had been able to shackle both her wrists behind her back without attracting attention he would. He wanted to cage her, tame her, but tonight, surrounded by the security of a crowd, she was determined to be untamable, just to see how far she could push him. 

"Mmmm, I know, and I feel so gloriously toasty and warm," she murmured wickedly, waggling her eyebrows at a passing male. 

Henry swore under his breath and pulled her flirtatious eyes away from any male that passed by capturing her gaze before she could perform some similar impropriety. He quickly brought his own hand to his mouth to mask his aggression in the pretence of courtesy. She had been right about the shackling. 

"You're drunk", he repeated raggedly, more as if he was telling himself than her. She rather liked the hint of desperation that seeped into every word he spoke. It was almost as satisfying as having him grovel at her feet. 

Y/n laughed, a sensuous 'cat-with-the-cream' look of satisfaction on her face as she widened her eyes and purred, "But not incapable, darling…".

She tamed a deliberate misstep as she spoke so that her leg slid caressingly between his thighs as they turned. 

Henry almost stumbled as she lifted her knee, briefly applying the pivoting pressure of her thigh firmly to the juncture of his. Her provocation had an immediate effect and she drew back instantly, finally aware that her teasing had gone too far. But it was too late. Henry had reached the end of his tether. 

"Fine -" he seethed, "-we'll do this the hard way then" 

Five minutes later Y/n  was belted roughly into the passenger-seat of her own car. 

" I'm perfectly fit to drive, Henry" she raged at the man who slid angrily behind the steering wheel before inserting her keys into the ignition. 

"I'm as sober as you are!"

" For your sake, I hope that's a lie, Y/n". 

His voice was nothing but a growl and y/n felt the shiver that started in her groin slowly rise up through her spine. 

"But if it is true then maybe you've done me a favour. If you were teasing me deliberately I don't have to feel guilty for what I'm about to do." his eyes stayed focused on whatever he was staring at, his fists curling tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale. 

"Do?" Y/n asked faintly as the car sprang into motion with far more power than she ever managed to coax from under the unimpressive bonnet.

"Did you think I would calmly walk away like an obedient lap-dog when you got tired of your little game ?"

 "I...I... didn't think-" she began to splutter. 

"No? Just instinct, was it? Trap the beast, then rattle his cage until he howls? Wasn't that your goal?" 

"Henry!" 

He hadn't looked at her since they had got in the car, driving with a narrow-eyed concentration, but now he slipped a grim sideways glance at her shocked expression and what he saw there seemed to ease his ferocious tension but the wolfish twitch of his mouth wasn't reassuring

"You did, didn't you? You really thought I'd let you get away with it. You didn't think I'd have the guts to drag you kicking and screaming out of there" 

Y/n swallowed the dry lump in her throat. She had definitely underestimated her victim and definitely forgot to plan this far ahead. 

"'I wasn't kicking and screaming," she protested weakly, avoiding the obvious answers he wanted.

 "Not on the outside maybe. But your innocent act never did cut any ice with me" Henry's eyes glanced over at Y/n

Y/n clenched her fists tightly, until her nails dug into the palm of her hand, but she barely noticed. The only thing she was really aware of, was the sound of her heart throbbing against the cage of her chest. 

It wasn't until she looked up into the rear view mirror, that she noticed she had been biting her lip so much so that they were almost as red as the lipstick that had wiped off hours ago. 

"Scared, Y/n?" Henry jeered softly as she swallowed again, this time audibly. "You should be." he said lowly

"What about your own car?" she began weakly, hoping that practicalities might prevail where argument hadn't. 

"I'll pick it up tomorrow." Y/n went quiet. This fantasy was easier to plot when she didn't have to concentrate on parrying his verbal thrusts and she tried to calm her nervous actions with whatever had made her think that she could best him at his own game. 

She wished she were drunk but all she could do was hope that the drive would cool down that scorched male pride. All she could do momentarily was create another plan. 

When they would finally get back to her apartment building she would placate him, contrive to convince him that it had all been a silly mistake. For all his threatening manner, she knew instinctively that he wouldn't use violence to enforce his threats. He didn't have to... all he had to do to seduce her was to take her in his arms and then she would be at his mercy. But once she had bolted her door on him she would be safe from her own wicked urges. 

He could rage and huff and puff all he liked but he wouldn't be able to get in. The irony was rather quaint. All the security locks that he had insisted she have installed on her doors and windows when he first found out she lived alone in a not so friendly neighbourhood would ensure that her virtue remained unassailable - well for tonight at least. 

Y/n had almost convinced herself that she had already outwitted him when she noticed the unfamiliarity of their route.

"This isn't the way to my home!" 

He ignored her. The moving light thrown by the passing street-lights illuminated his shadowed expression. It was a hard mask of satisfaction.

 "Dammit, Henry, where are you taking me?" 

"I told you. Home." 

"This isn't where I live." 

"I never said I would take you to your home. I simply said 'home'. It's not my fault that you assumed I meant your home." 

Henry turned into a steep, dark, curving driveway that seemed to drop away directly into the deep black glitter of a Lake that Y/n didn't even know existed in the area. 

 Y/n's heart was in her mouth as the car swooped towards the water, but when they reached the lower curve into darkness, security lights suddenly flickered on and she saw the brick paved courtyard clearly for an instant before the car was swallowed by the lower level of the house.

The garage door closed automatically after them, and for a moment after Henry cut the engine, the only sound in the softly lit enclosed space was the faint ringing echo of the metal door. Y/n was irresistibly reminded of the metallic springing of a trap. One that she had baited herself into.

"Welcome home, Y/n." Henry leaned towards her and she flinched, but he was merely flicking open her seatbelt.

She couldn't see him smile but she could hear the amusement in his voice as he continued, "No, not here in the car. I'm not so crude as to take up your generous invitation without due ceremony and at least a few comforts." 

Henry leaned even further, reaching across her to push open her door, this time dragging his arm deliberately against her rapidly rising breasts as he withdrew. 

"Get out. I'd prefer to go inside" he purred dangerously, pointedly placing her car keys out of reach in the inside pocket of his jacket.  

" but If you can't restrain your wild passion and don't mind a little discomfort I'm quite ready and willing to make love to you against the dashboard" 

Y/n was up and out of the car with as much alacrity as her fumbling apprehension would allow. His mocking laugh as he followed suit had her searching for the door, but he was there before her, opening it with a flourish and a small bow.

" After you. " 

All the way up the narrow, spotlight staircase, Y/n was aware of the movement of her hips and legs, the breathless difficulty in her chest and, most of all, the steady, inexorable masculine tread that stalked her. 

The room at the top of the stairs was shrouded in darkness, relieved by vague glimmering white shapes that made her gasp. 

"Afraid of ghosts, too, Y/n? What a timid little thing you're turning out to be…". The murmured words smoked across the small area of vulnerable skin between her shoulder-blades, exposed by the discreet scoop of her gown, whispering across her sensitised nerves. There was a faint click and the room sprang into light. 

The white shapes were sheets, draped over bulky objects. 

Even the floor was covered by a dark green sheet, and the reason was obvious. The walls were stripped and primed, but had not yet had their first coat. 

They were in the kitchen, Y/n guessed from the positioning of the shrouded fittings. Scattered about were cans of paint and rolls of wallpaper, brushes soaking in paint and the odd ladder or two. The only ghosts here were those of the tradesmen. 

Yet,  Y/n's heart continued to flutter with a deliciously disconcerting fear, an excited apprehension.

 Without a word Henry took her by the elbow and ushered her impatiently through several more similarly dust-shrouded rooms with the unswerving instinct of a guided missile, not bothering to turn on any more lights. 

The place seemed huge, and as silent and brooding as the explosively primed man beside her.

 "You-you're redecorating!" Y/n grabbed at the chance to divert him from his relentless intention. Honestly it surprised her that she had known him for so long and yet had never seen his home, he didn't even talk of it much. 

Henry didn't answer and she fell quiet. 

He let her resistance slow him but he didn't let his grip ease. He had already been taken by surprise once too often that night.

"Have you been feeling hunted, Y/n?" Her answer was in her uneasy sidelong look. He smiled secretively. "Now you know how I felt this evening: like the helpless prey to your brazen huntress…" Y/n flushed, her whole body heating at his words. She had been brazen, utterly so, and she had enjoyed it far too obviously to try to deny it now. 

Henry let her dwell on her folly for a moment before he murmured, "The answer to your question is…" his slow smile drew out the suspense for a wickedly long second "...perhaps." 

His eyelids drooped, not quite hiding the predatory gleam that smouldered in the darkness. He was still very, very angry and he wanted her to know it.

  "Certainly it turned out to be very convenient for you…"

 His free hand came up under her other elbow and he stepped around to face her, forcing her backwards and into the realisation that while he had held her enmeshed with his equivocating words he had been slowly backing her to the wall.

"I'm no one's convenience," she spat, determined not to see the effect his calculated menace was having on her already chaotic nervous system.

"You have to admit you qualify in one or two forms of the dictionary meaning, Y/n," he drawled, driven to foment her the way that she had tormented him. "You're certainly suitable for my purposes and needs and you're close by... but no, I don't suppose you could be considered "easy to use"...

The fear that had inhibited her flared into an open temper at his overt mockery. 

"If you think I'll let you-" "-Challenging me, y/n?" he interrupted softly, and watched her hesitate as she realised the certain consequences of goading him from her very vulnerable position.

"Actually," he continued almost kindly, "it's a little late for second thoughts. You've led me this far with your little game. Now it's time to pay the piper…" He dipped his head and to her tingling shock bit her gently on the side of her satiny throat. She reared back, but there was nowhere to go, no escape that didn't involve going through that broad-shouldered, lean-hipped wall of male arrogance!

"led you! You're the one who practically kidnapped me" She was appalled to hear the breathy lightness in her words when she had meant them to be firm. 

"Mmm. Exciting, isn't it?" He bit the other side of her throat. "Just think how thoroughly helpless you are right at this minute. You're in a strange house, while I know every nook and cranny. All the exits are deadlocked. Even if you ran, where would you run to? I'm stronger than you are. bigger, harder, faster. You can't get away, no matter how hard you try. I can do anything I want with you. And there's nothing you can do about it, except…" 

" Except what?" The mouth skimming her throat was having as violent an effect as his taunting words, arousing the deeply buried desires that she had tried to deny. 

" accept what you caused" She felt the curve of his lips against her smooth skin, heard the amusement in the sensuous rumble.

 He was laughing at her. 

He wasn't content with merely seducing her. No, he wanted to humiliate her, too.

Sudden panic struck and with a fierce surge of strength she shoved at his solid chest. To both their surprise, he staggered back, far enough for her to dart away. With a roaring curse he gave chase.

Y/n's heart hammered as she scuttled from the safety of one covered piece of furniture to the next. She froze, listening for the direction of his pursuit, but Henry had also stilled. He was out there somewhere, crouched and aware, listening, just as she was, waiting to pounce. Her skin prickled hotly and she could feel the blood pulsing heavily through her veins. Y/n shivered with a strangely febrile excitement. She peered around what appeared to be a small table and saw a graduation of the blackness - A doorway!, 

Taking a deep breath, she took to a low crouch and ran for it. As she did so she felt a rush of air as close as a blow and a throaty growl. He had only just missed her! She couldn't help letting out a little scream as she abandoned stealth and bolted, darting breathlessly to the darkened room.

Henry was never far behind and at first she was grateful that he didn't switch on the lights, the better to find her, but as his taunting laughter infiltrated the night she realised that he was revelling in the chase...and so was she! 

Her inner certainty that Henry would never physically hurt her, even in genuine rage, gave an added piquancy to the situation. 

She had challenged him in the most clemental way possible and he was responding in a way that was as different and exciting as he was. 

The panic which had precipitated her flight became a delicious terror as the teasing game of hide-and-seek continued. 

Sexual tension flourished in the shrouded silence like a living thing. He was no longer in a hurry to catch her, whispering silky-voiced threats into the night that curled her toes and dampened her palms, describing in sensual detail what was going to happen when he found her.

 It didn't take Y/n very long to break. When Henry suddenly went quiet her imagination ran riot. She pressed herself even more tightly against the reassuring solidarity of what appeared to be a sideboard and quavered, "Henry?". 

There was no answer and she tried hard to sound convincingly calm. 

"Henry, this is ridiculous. Why don't you turn on the light and we'll talk about it sensibly?" Sensible was the last thing she felt but she couldn't stand the waiting no longer. 

Y/n was just close enough to the edge of her self control to try shameless grovelling.

" All right, so I acted foolishly this evening. Now you've got your revenge and now we're even aren't we?" 

Silence 

"okay fine , yes, I admit it!" she cried. "I pretended to be drunk to tease you but…" 

Silence,

"I did it because... because I didn't expect you to respond." And may God not strike her down for that awful lie!

 "I wanted to annoy you, that's all. It was wrong of me. Childish. I'm sorry. I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You always seem to have this - control over me. I just wanted to get under your skin for once."

Silence 

"Henry? Henry!' Her placatory tone slipped badly. 

" Fuck!, stop it. Henry, this isn't funny anymore!"

A soft chuckle floated out of the darkness. Y/n was too disorientated to guess its direction and she whirled a full circle. 

" I'm not playing your stupid game any more, Henry, so you may as well come out. I won't try and run away again. I promise."

Silence. 

Y/n began to tremble, not from fear but from helpless desire. Dammit, why didn't he come out and finish what she had started already. There was a soft sound to her left, a tiny echoing click that acted like a trigger on her taut nerves, catapulting her automatically to the other wall of the room, where she backed hastily between two tented objects that provided her with a solid sense of security. A false sense, she discovered, when a hand suddenly whipped across her mouth from behind, smothering her scream.

 "So much for your promises, Y/n," came the clipped murmur in her ear. "That was only my cuff-link. You ran straight into my arms."

 The hand across her mouth tightened as she tried to protest, and an arm lashed around her waist, drawing her back against a hard, familiar body. He hadn't lied in his silken whispers. He was just as aroused as she was by their foolish game. 

She stood there for a moment, her head against his shoulder, trembling and breathless. She tried to speak and tasted the sweat of his palm. Instead of dropping his hand he trailed it deliberately across her lips, his fingers curving into her parted mouth, stroking the inner surface of her mouth and fondling her tongue with an intimacy that was far more shocking than any explicit sexual caress.

Her heart thundered in her breast as he softly probed her moistness, scaling the breath from her lungs, as he whispered, "Do you like this, Y/n? Your mouth is like wet satin, wrapping around my fingers. Use your tongue, tell me if you like the taste of me…" The sheer intoxication of his husky plea made her moan and he quickly let his hand drop. 

"Am I hurting you?"

 She couldn't answer and his hand continued to fall, until it settled on the firm roundness of her left breast, his palm cupping her, feeling the pounding tumult within.

" You...frighten me," she managed to say, her taste buds tingling with each word, drowning in the full flavour of him. 

"This isn't fright, Y/n…" His hand tightened and then released, to flatten and move against her in soft rotation, compressing the flesh in a way that made her tremble even more. 

"This is excitement. You wanted to be caught, didn't you? You're as curious about me as I am about you, only you wouldn't let yourself admit it. Tell me now if this is not what you want, Y/n, because from here on in I can't guarantee my control…"

As he issued his rough command his hand moved to explore her other breast. The hand around her waist strayed, fingers splaying against her velvet belly, digging into her softness, reaching for the ache that was forming in the pit of her stomach. His mouth was moving against her shining cap of hair, seeking the sensitive hollows at the nape of her neck. 

 He was handing control to her because she made him feel wildly out of control. She had never driven a man so wild with desire that he didn't know what he was doing...

"Henry, God, -" 

"don't say no, Y/n. Not now." He spun her tightly in his arms and she made a discovery that drenched her with sensuous delight. 

"Your clothes…" 

He had taken off his jacket and tie some time during his dark pursuit and unbuttoned his shirt so that it hung free from his broad shoulders. The hands that she had placed against his chest met with bare skin- hot, damp, satiny skin covered with thick, soft hair. His heart was almost leaping from his chest and he shuddered as she pressed her palm harder against him, marveling at the strength and power rippling beneath the skin.

"I got hot, chasing you," he said.  "I still am. Wanting you makes me that way. Hot and so ready that I can hardly stand!" 

He made a subtle movement with his hips and groaned as he brushed against the thick velvet folds of her dress. She felt a fresh moisture break out on his skin and in an instinctive gesture of acceptance leaned forward to nuzzle it from his chest, her mouth inadvertently brushing against one of his large, flat nipples in his nest of hair.

He made a choking sound in his throat, arching back to give her free access to his upper body and in the process ground his swollen hardness against the juncture of her thighs

"do it" 

Y/n barely heard his ragged plea. Henry was so exquisitely responsive to every tiny movement she made, even to the very breath from her lips upon his skin, that he was soon deep in the toils of a dreamy delirium. 

She  wasn't aware of the rip he made in the back of her dress when his shaking hands wrenched the zip down, only of the molten sensuality of his gaze as he steered her into a shaft of light near the window and studied her breasts. nestled in their cups of pure white lace. 

"Did you wear this for me?" he asked thickly, roughly tracing the outline of the lace across the curving swells. "Did you want me to take off your dress tonight, Y/n? To admire you like this?" 

 His arousal was so flatteringly intense that she couldn't deny him the truth.

 "Yes…" 

She closed her eyes, gasping as she felt the stroke of his thumbs across the seams, finding the rigid tips that were evidence of her own desire. He made a sound and she felt him kneel to pull her velvet gown over her hips, revealing the white panties and suspender belt in the same simple lace design as the bra, demure yet sexy in their essential femininity.

 He made another sound, this time deep and guttural, his hands running up the backs of her thighs, pulling them closer and parting them slightly. 

She opened her eyes, clutching at his naked shoulders as he moved his mouth hotly against the lacy front panel of her panties and pressed a string of kisses from the soft skin at the tops of her stockings to the deep, frantic pulse at the hollow of her hip. 

Y/n could feel the cool air along her pussy as warmth settled there. Rough hands sent a shiver through her body as they ran the length of her thighs, kneading her ass before finding their way back to her pussy, and pushing her panties to the side  for a better look at what she had to offer. Y/n shook and he purred in approval of her reaction.

Henry pressed forward until Y/n felt his lips along her folds, teasing her before delving deeper. Y/n gasped at the first taste, the tip of his tongue poking at her entrance, her arousal spilling forth. Henry ran the length of her pussy until he flicked her clit, the twitch it brought forth made him snicker into her skin. He dragged his tongue along her clit again, grazing it over and over as her pelvis flinched unwillingly.

“shit,” she hissed, trying not to moan though it felt so good.

Y/n clung onto his shoulders, the buzz she felt in her stomach coming closer to finding its release. Her thighs trembled as he grew more persistent, his tongue agile as it drew forth an orgasm but just before she could relish in the exquisite feeling, he pulled away. It had been almost a year since you had been pleasured by anything other than her own hands and this was starting to drive her mad. 

The sight of his dark head moving against her and the sensations he was creating made her cry out in helpless need and he looked up, a dark blush crossing his face when he saw her starlit expression. 

He stood and kissed her on the mouth until they were both breathless. Then, still holding her, he reached behind him, dragging the sheet off the nearest object.

It was a smooth, polished mahogany dining table, it's dark surface reflecting the muted lights from the moon.

Y/n imagined him laying her down on that smooth hardness and leaning over her, feeling the melting pleasure of his touch. 

Henry turned her, pressing her hips against the carved mahogany edge.

"I've never made love on a table before," she whispered raggedly, hoping that she wouldn't disappoint him with her relative inexperience. No doubt he was used to women who were terribly adventurous and sexually sophisticated. She thrusted the jealous thought away and linked her arms around his neck, reminding herself that she could make him shake with passionate need. She could make up with enthusiasm for what she lacked in experience and he would never know the difference. 

He stilled and she was afraid that she had destroyed the moment with her naive little confidence. Henry lifted his head and looked at the table behind her. Then he stopped and swept her off her feet, lifting her into his strong arms.

 "No, not here," he said hoarsely. "The first time should be in a bed.." He began to move with Y/n in his arms and she turned her hot face against his broad chest, adoring him for caring enough to make this exactly right for them. 

"I don't want to wait." She told him shyly of her need and his arms tightened, the muscles of his shoulders and neck bunching into prominence as his stride quickened.

 "You won't have to." He turned into another doorway, dipping an elbow against the wall until twin lamps glowed, their light filtered into a soft, golden delicacy by the cloths that swathed them. 

Henry didn't let her go as he removed the covering over the bed and stripped back the dark feather quilt. When he finally put her down it was on to crisp white sheets that released a lavender fragrance to mingle with the heated scent of arousal that perfumed their bodies.

Henry stood by the bedside, looking down at her. Then he spread his hands, revealing the light tremor that shook his hand ever so gently. 

 "Look what you do to me. You make me weak. No one has ever had that effect on me"  Y/n reached out a hand and touched his trident stomach. 

"You're the strongest man I know," her hand ran down his stomach and over the muscle underneath as she moved down to his belt. She tugged at it gently

"I want you" she purred. 

The knowledge of their mutual desire flared in his hungry eyes, hardening the planes and angles of his face until it looked as rigid as his body under her exploring hand. He caught her wrist before she would have touched him intimately, folding her arm back into the pillow behind her head he knelt beside her.

 "Say it again. Say my name." 

"I want you to make love to me, Henry." Her words were a promise to give him all that he wanted and more. 

"No more running?" he raised his eyebrow jokingly and Y/n shook her head, unable to speak as he unclipped the front fastening of her bra, sensing that he wanted her to lie quiescently as he bared the last secrets of her body. 

She felt shy, like a precious gift being gloatingly unwrapped, but she didn't resent his moment of purely masculine triumph. The glory of the moment was also hers, this beautiful man that she had known for so long finally hers. He was giving himself to her and asking nothing but what she was willing to give in return. For tonight and perhaps for many nights to come she would let him satisfy the hunger in her soul, colour the cold grey corners of her world with a warmth and vibrant life that would dispel, at least for a time, the loneliness she had come to accept many years ago. 

"I want you, too…" she whispered as she welcomed the joy of his touch. 

Henry undressed himself with a fumbling haste that she found inexpressibly exciting and when he came down on to her she gasped at the violent energy of his enthusiasm. Y/n stared up at him, his cock hanging out for all to see. 

The controlled, disciplined man she had grown to know vanished completely. In his place was a greedy, intemperate, ardent and impetuous male, urgently intent with plundering each and every lavish pleasure of flesh. 

Henry smirked, his hand slowly pumping his dick a few times before he bent down and slid the tip over her slit and pushed inside roughly, allowing her no resistance as he filled her entirely.

This moment when he took her would live vividly in her memory forever.

 The shocking reality of his first thrust stilled them both but then he stilled, chest shaking, half across her body, his head buried in the curve of her neck. 

'Surely he's not going to stop now,'  y/n thought hysterically as her body slowly adjusted to the agonising fullness, and she felt the involuntary ripples of tension begin to absorb him even more deeply into her being. 

 Y/n dropped her head back as she let out a low growl as he thrusted sharply, allowing a moment between each as they were jolted into the bed. His hands were on her hips, holding her down as he slid in and out. 

Relax and enjoy was about all Y/n was capable of doing as his sensual onslaught built towards a fiery climax. He devoured her, feasting on her body with blind hunger, biting lushly into her skin, sipping and suckling the sweetness from her achingly swollen breasts as his hands adjusted her body around his, moaning and shuddering so violently when she even lightly caressed his body with her own that she  resorted to merely riding the exquisite storm as he sank deeper than before. 

Henry groaned and y/n felt a sudden burst of warmth, his cum leaking down her legs as she let the feeling of her own orgasm near

She plunged a hand into his sweat-drenched hair, and pulled his head back.

"Henry-" 

The moan came quickly and she hardly recognised him as she gawked up at him. His mouth was full, reddened, the skin drawn tightly over the bones of his face giving him a lean, hollowed-checked wildness, his deep set eyes open but blank with inner turbulence. He looked almost totally insensate. 

Y/n felt shaken by a sudden wave of tenderness as his cock slid over a soft spot inside her, her fingers curling tightly into silky-damp hair.

"Henry--" 

The tenderness flooded her being and was just swiftly followed by another wave of intense feeling as Henry stiffened and pulled back slightly, the pupils of his eyes contracting, his jaw clenching as he fought the blind instinct that was relentlessly driving him. 

"I hurt you, didn't i." he gritted. "I went too fast for you. I'm sorry." He moved up on his braced arms and tried to withdraw further but she stopped him, almost sobbing.

"No... oh, no" 

Henry hesitated and she moaned again, this time a bitter protest, "No, please, no, not yet…" 

Y/n's pussy tightened and she murmured in delight as he slowly thrusted against her again, her sensitive walls sending a thrill up her spine.

She was fighting to hold on, and he watched, puzzled and then fascinated, as she moaned, her eyes wide with a strange fear and confusion. Her fingers slid laxly out of his hair to clench and unclench helplessly on the pillow. A deep rosy flush spread up from her damp, heaving breasts to mantle her throat and face. He realised then what was happening to her and waited, afraid to move again for fear of breaking the wondrous spell, watching hotly as the inexorable momentum built swiftly to a flashpoint.

 Only when she rolled her flushed cheek sideways into the pillow did he move, cupping her face with his strong hand, forcing her to look at him.

 "No, let me see... let me watch it happen to you...I want to watch" 

Her eyelids fluttered at his husky command, her blush deepened, but she was too enraptured to feel embarrassed, too stunned by the speed of it all to deny him anything he asked. Her mouth trembled and parted and she began to gasp in light, shallow breaths that made her flushed breasts quiver deliciously, invitingly. 

He bent and touched a stiff pink nipple experimentally with his mouth, very gently. She jerked and cried out, exploding beneath him in a series of violent convulsions that almost unseated him. He gripped her thighs and held her steady while she sobbed and moaned and poured herself into him, and then, as she melted lovingly around him he at last began to move, uncertainly echoing her undulating movements until he established his own powerful rhythm, this time driving her with him, until his raw shout of exuberant satisfaction signalled that the whirlwind was spent. 

~

In the morning Y/n  was grateful for the resilience of her relative youth. Even after a long hot shower, her muscles ached with the extravagance of her strenuous exercise. She felt as if she had been battered, not by one whirlwind, but several. And she had. If she had thought that Henry's incandescent passion would swiftly burn them both out she discovered, through the ravishing reaches of the night, that she was marvellously mistaken.

 His desire, like his curiosity about her body, had proved insatiable. And, although the second and third time they made love it was not with the stunning speed of the first, it was still fiercely, gloriously energetic. He encouraged a boldness in her that she hadn't known she possessed. 

He made her feel unutterably sexy, as if she was the only woman in the world who could satisfy his lavish appetite for lovemaking, and he devoted and demanded the same kind of single-minded commitment to creating pleasure that he did to his more worldly objectives. In short, he was every bit the fantastic lover she had imagined he was.

Y/n smiled to herself as she sipped her coffee. Was this a case of being hoist by her own petard? If so, everyone should have such a virile executioner! 

"You look quite disgustingly smug." 

 Henry had showered, brought her coffee and toast in bed and casually dressed in front of her with the ease of a man who was thoroughly satisfied with himself and the world in general.

"You're looking fairly smug yourself," she answered boldly. 

"Making love in the morning obviously suits us both and in the evening, and at night. By the way, what are you doing at lunchtime?" Y/n couldn't stop blushing and Henry smirked.

 She wasn't that bold - yet.

 If she and Henry were lovers for long she didn't doubt that she could become very, very brazen. 

"Eating," she said repressively. 

Henry refused to be repressed. "you're a wicked, decadent woman." He leaned over and tugged at the sheet that was tucked over her breasts and down to her waist. Y/n squeaked and held out her cup, afraid she would spill some of the hot liquid as he bent to lightly kiss her rosy softness. 

" is all of you on the menu, or just selected divine parts?" 

"You're a glutton!" Y/n murmured weakly, closing her eyes, shivering at the tingling pleasure his delicately teasing tongue evoked. 

"Ouch!" Henry winched, The coffee having splashed onto his cheek as y/n unconsciously let the coffee cup slip.

"Serves you right." She didn't pull up the sheet, sitting primly among the crumbs and cotton sheets, deliciously aware of the contrast between her nudity and his dark, formal suit as he moved away. 

He had told her he had an early meeting --one reason for the necessity to rouse her just after dawn by making love to her sleepy, languorous body. 

Waking up to find Henry inside her was just one of the new, fresh pleasures of life! 

"Will you meet me for lunch? This meeting should be over by then." He straightened his tie in front of the mirror then walked back to her.

"If you want me to…" He cupped her chin, reminding her of the way he had refused to allow her to hide from him last night.

 "I want you to. Make no mistake about that, y/n. I have no regrets. None." 

"Good." She lifted her chin and tried for a little of the sophistication he was no doubt used to. "I wouldn't like to think that I had disappointed you." 

To her annoyance, he laughed. He straightened, letting his fingers trail down her throat. "There wasn't much chance of that, believe me." 

"Oh, are you so confident of your prowess?" she snapped defensively, feeling suddenly restless and mentative. "You can turn any woman into your personal love machine?" 

He seemed unruffled by her irritable crudity, a strange smile still playing around his lips.

 "On the contrary. I'm afraid I have no basis for comparison." 

"What?" Y/n stared at him blankly.

He scooped up a slice of toast and bit into it. "Couldn't you tell, Y/n? Was my gift such a paltry thing? I thought one's partner could always tell." 

What was he talking about? To her horror, Y/n suddenly realised that, although he had used protection afterwards, that first, rough coming-together had been utterly spontaneous and Henry certainly hadn't held back. Did he purposely try to get her pregnant? Was he not really the man she thought he was? No- that couldn't be it. 

 "What gift? T-tell- me. what?" she stammered, raising her cup to hide the quiver of her mouth, hoping he wasn't going to prove as selfishly arrogant as she suspected!

" Why, that it was my first time, of course." And, as she continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly over the top of the cup, his smile gentled into a tender warmth. "You were my initiation, Y/n. I gave you my virginity, you gave me my manhood." 

And, leaving her gasping and choking with shocked disbelief, a pool of hot coffee soaking into the sheets around her, he calmly turned and walked out of the house, a new found pride in his stomach and so much more to be discovered.

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