#a court of witches and warriors

[arinbelle]

A Court of Witches and Warriors

A/N: I know it’s been a year since I updated this fic. I am so very aware. 🤦🏽‍♀️ 

~*~

Chapter 20

Cassian awoke to darkness. 

At first, he was sure he was back in his home. In Windhaven. Instinct had him reaching to his right, feeling for Nesta's warm body that always seemed to mold into his side as the night wore on. But Nesta was not there.

Nothing was there. And upon further inspection, Cassian realized nothing was there at all.

He breathed out sharply, panic slicing through him suddenly at the eerie nothingness he was in.

The sound echoed around him, as if he was underwater in some cave, bouncing around aimlessly until finally fading into more silence. Something was wrong. He needed to think. Where was he? And how had he gotten to where this was?

The forest. Martaxes. Nesta.

“Nesta!”

But there was no response save for the echo back of his own voice.

Bits and pieces of disjointed memories came back to him slowly. All the while, the inky blackness around him didn't dissipate once. He flung himself though it in the lapses between his memory, when no new visions of what had happened in those woods would enter his mind. It was always the same end result. Cassian would try to fly, try to jump, try to walk, but he always ended up on some flat, soft surface that he could only assume was a bed. He couldn't see much to verify it himself, although strangely enough, he could see his own hands. His body. 

Cassian startled as he looked down at his torso again, taking in the newly formed gashes that slithered over his stomach, scraping over his chest, healed but barely. Strangely, mangled as they looked, he did not feel pain.

Something from long ago he'd heard in his lessons popped up suddenly in his mind. A tutor that had gone over the various monsters in Prythian. It had been Rhys' father's decision to have them all educated on the topic, as the Illyrian camps only gave battle training and weaponry for Fae counterparts. Not their hidden monsters. The lecture had droned on for so long that Cassian had given up on paying attention and instead had gotten into a spitball contest with Rhys. Az, ever the faithful student, was the only one who had glared at their antics and tried his best to absorb all the tedious knowledge they were being given. Until the spitball landed on the teacher's face and Cassian had been given three sharp lashes on his knuckles for the infraction. His next monotone paragraph had etched itself into Cassian's memory, with the sting of the whip still smarting on his hands.

"The martax has potent venom in its bite- remember that. It renders its prey weak and motionless, and the paralysis eventually chokes off their ability to breathe. Their heart to pump. The only saving grace is that the prey do not feel pain when bitten or clawed. It is a steady but painless death, with the prey often times comatose while they are eaten or slowly dying."

Everything began clicking back together again, as if someone had fixed up the jigsaw puzzle in his head on the last few days and suddenly Cassian could think again.

"I'm dying," Cassian breathed out, realizing the horrible truth as he looked at the bite bark accompanying the slashes on his torso.

"Indeed you are."

Cassian jumped at the voice, somehow everywhere and nowhere around him. He still couldn't see anything. 

Cassian instinctively flared out his wings and called his power up to his hands. It rumbled as it awoke, and Cassian felt the charge of the Killing Power push through him, revitalizing every fiber of his being in a way that the past hours aimless rest hadn't done. But for all its bravado, nothing surged to his fingertips, his feet, his wings...nothing.

"That won't work here." The voice was back.

Cassian tried to figure out the source, but once again, his search proved futile.

"If you wish to see me, you need only ask." It was a voice that reminded him of Amren, young and yet ancient enough for Cassian to know this was no ordinary being. No Fae, no human, or a monster. It was something Otherwordly and now that she'd made it clear how to see her, Cassian wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Fine. Where am I?"

For a moment there was only silence. And then, Cassian heard a whoosh of air behind him, and could see light emanating from there too, drawing flickering shapes in front of him and expanding his shadow onto the ground. Cassian was careful when he turned, but he did turn, and he did look, bizarre as it all was.

She looked younger than he had expected. An angular, olive skinned face, one of beauty, was framed by dark curls and a thrumming energy of changing colors.  And yet...something in her was off, utterly wrong. As he stared at her longer, he realized that her teal eyes held too much weight, too much age, for her face to look so youthful.

"I am older than you'll ever be able to guess child. I suggest you worry about more pressing matters." Her voice felt both like relief and worry, like a nightingale's cry and nails on a stone wall. Right and wrong mixed into a spellbinding mix that had Cassian rearing a few steps back. The woman...thing had a black robe wrapped all around her, cinched tight at the waist with a strange, shimmering belt that reminded Cassian of a snake. 

Was it actually a snake? Cassian swore he saw something like moving scales, but then he'd blinked and it had passed.

Cassian's mouth had dried out as realization struck that no matter how much she may almost look like a woman or a female, she was neither. There was more to her and her strange presence that had Cassian asking, "Who are you?"

She cocked her head and serpentine smile wreaked onto her face, and even though he'd been alive for more than five centuries, had seen and ended all sorts of monsters in the world, it sent shivers down Cassian's back.

"Scared already?," she mocked with chilling amusement. "You won't fare well with that attitude. Especially not in this world."

Cassian steadied his mind, "What world would that be? Who are you? What are you?”

She flashed her teeth again and Cassian realized he may have asked the wrong question. "You know where you are. At least some sense of it. Don't expect me to comfort you from the truth we both know. As for me, I'm known as many things. By many names. We don't have time to sort through all of them."

"Are you Fae?," Cassian ventured to ask. He knew she wasn't, but he needed to know what was churning behind her eyes, because it sure as hell wasn't the same immortality that ran through him.

"No." A moment of fitful silence went by so she added, musing as she did, "I did have a hand in creating them though, so I suppose I could be considered a mother to your race." 

If she'd created them, had been alive long enough to have helped bring forth the Fae, she had to be a deity of some sort. Some type of Goddess though he wouldn't know since she refused to tell him her name. Horror sluiced through him at the thought of being toe to toe with an unknown immortal, possibly another Death god like the one they'd tried to keep imprisoned in Velaris.

She began walking towards him, and Cassian's battle training had him planting his feet in a fighting stance, ready for her to attack. Even though she was a goddess and Cassian would likely die for real from the fight, he stood strong. All for nothing, because she breezed right past him and into a blazing white circle that had opened up in the middle of the dark nothing around them.

Cassian gaped at the blinding circle for only a moment.

"Well, are you coming or not? I could leave you there to rot, but if you're wise, you'll follow me Cassian." Her voice came from beyond the white circle, a portal no doubt leading to somewhere away from the stygian contraption of wherever he was.

Cassian didn't like the sound of his name on her tongue but he followed dutifully, the portal sucking him in the rest of the way when he was near touching it. It turned his stomach inside out, almost like Winnowing with Rhys but worse, and soon enough he found himself lying facedown in the grass, all the breath completely knocked out of him. 

When he looked up, a pair of shiny boots were pointed towards him. Cassian got up, groaning as pain spiked in random parts of his body, and the portal's journey took its physical toll. She waited patiently for him as he caught his breath and then straightened up, only raising an eyebrow at him in an amused way.

When she turned and began walking away, Cassian heaved himself to keep up. 

"It seems the poison has taken quite a toll on you. I would think a centuries old Commander of the supposedly best army in Prythian could handle a small bit of portal travel." She smirked at him as he caught up to her, looking him up and down before turning straight again. "Guess not."

Cassian wanted to argue it but deep down he could feel his strength had waned considerably. How long did he have? He hadn't even been able to say goodbye to Nesta.

Nesta. His fierce and loyal Nesta, who had returned for him even though she shouldn't have. He had no idea how she was faring? If she was also hurt like him...or worse.

"Nesta is fine." She stopped, peering at him carefully. "Well, she's alive. She's not at all fine."

"Why?," Cassian demanded, a sick feeling of dread sluicing through him for what Nesta may have suffered. The Mother did not react to his brusque change in tone.

"She weeps at your bedside everyday. Asking for you to wake up. Come back to her. Foolish girl wants time. Some sort of promise you made her?" 

The goddess said it like a question but there was something wrong in her tone. As if she too knew the weight of those very words and just how deep those wounds ran between him and Nesta.

I will find you in the next world - the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.

Cassian's words came roaring back to him and his world began splintering. He needed to get back to her. Needed to -

"No!" Cassian's head whipped towards her. "There'll be none of that here. I don't have time for you to lose resolve already. We don't have long. Come with me." She began walking away, at a far brisker pace than Cassian thought was possible, and he struggled to keep up, panting every so often.

"What is this place? Where were we just before?"

She didn't reply right away. Cassian wanted to rip his hair out. He needed to leave, if he could, and somehow find a way to speak to Nesta. If he didn't live, at least speak to her one last time and tell her everything she meant to him. 

"You're dying," she finally stated, halting suddenly and leaving Cassian scrambling.

Cassian had been on the brink of Death many times, had been brought back many times as well. It shouldn't have felt like such a slap in the face when he heard the damning words, but it did. Shuttered his eyes and made his too weak heartbeat pound just a bit faster.

"You were in a waiting place earlier." The dark place that he'd woken up to. She nodded as if to confirm his thoughts. "All the souls that are caught between the two worlds are stuck there, in their own version of it, until someone can bring them over to the other side."

"And that someone is you," Cassian stated, not a question but to confirm.

She blinked at him before slowly replying. "No...it's usually not. There is another here who tends to lost souls." Another God or Goddess no doubt. Cassian still couldn't believe that he was speaking to an actual deity at the moment. "Well," she started again, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. "There are many of us here in the Afterlife that aid in bringing the dead to their final resting place. Usually the Goddess who runs this place is the one to do it. Especially if the soul is...important." Cassian didn't like how she said it, as if there was something off about him that needed to be studied. 

"Where are they then?," Cassian demanded. 

She tutted at him not answering. Instead she waved her arms and Cassian felt a hook under his navel, jerking him. He yelled out at the foreign and unpleasant sensation. Except when it really began to feel unbearable, it was over, and Cassian was no longer in a field. Instead, they had arrived someplace underground, a cavern of some sort, and the only source of light was a glaring white sphere in the center of the room. As it moved inside itself and the opalescent substance of whatever it was twirled, the goddess walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"I am usually not the one who deals with lost souls or the ones who need helping crossing. I do deal with ghosts and souls and ghouls and all other manner of dark creature, whether by death or by their own choice. But I heard of your arrival and wanted to see you."

Cassian's mouth went dry. "Why?" What could she possibly want with him? What interest could he serve for her?

"It isn't you," she assured him calmly. "It's your mate."

"You know Nesta?" Cassian turned his head to look at her.

A sly smile overtook her face. "I figured you wouldn't know," she mused aloud, tapping her lips with her fingers. "But I thought she would eventually tell you..."

The woman trailed off and Cassian resisted the urge to demand her to finish what she was saying. She didn't and Cassian couldn't help but let out a growl of frustration.

"Keep those noises to yourself boy," she admonished sharply, and Cassian somehow found himself shirking back. It had been a long time since someone had scared him enough to do that. Sure Nesta had always had her moments where she'd unnerved him. Set him off. But he'd never been afraid of her. Never.

This woman though, with her cruel stare and serpentine smile, scared the hell out of him.

"Yes I know Nesta," she finally spoke. "I met her briefly. Once, long ago I suppose. Or not long at all. Time is so very different for me than you Fae."

"I don't understand," Cassian admitted reluctantly. She'd spoken in riddles from the moment he'd met her but the lack of clarity in her eyes, the haze that seemed to cloud them suddenly left him feeling unsteady.

She nodded after a moment. Cassian unintentionally found himself walking backwards as she moved towards him. But she ended up moving past him yet again, stopping some distance away and throwing her hand out into the air. The air seemed to ripple where her fingers hovered, and suddenly colors began moving, shapes began forming and before he knew it, a scene he'd been on the other side of began playing in front of him.

Nesta lay over him, scratched up, blood leaking from her mouth where Hybern had struck her. He'd never paid much attention to how he had looked that day, more focused on getting Nesta to safety, making sure she survived even if he didn't. 

It was a wretched sight, Hybern advancing on them, Nesta sobbing, clinging desperately at Cassian's leathers to get up. And then she said the words that had seared into Cassian's mind from the moment she'd uttered them.

"I can't. I can’t.”

Not "won't." 

Can't. Could not.

She refused to leave him. Cassian had known in that moment, as he'd pressed his lips to hers, in what he was sure was going to be their last moments, that she was his, and he had always been hers.

Cassian had not seen Elain from where he’d been, with Nesta’s face and chest covering him. But he’d heard the sound of the blade singing through the air before it hit its target. Had heard Hybern choke .

To see it from this new perspective was jarring. Delicate Elain who felt faint and awkward around blood and gore, sweet Elain who blushed at the crude jokes he and Rhys made around Feyre, had slayed a king for her sister. 

“I was here for this,” he bit out as he watched Nesta begin twisting the blade, severing Hybern’s head off. Every bit the warrior queen he’d thought her to be from the first time they’d met. 

He saw the goddess smirk. “You were here for this part boy, but I promise you the rest will be quite a surprise.”

Elain had begun screaming over her father’s corpse and Nesta would soon be pulled from her bloodletting stupor to comfort her sister. He remembered it clear as day because all he had wanted to do was for her to come to him instead. For him to hold her and breathe in her scent to know she was real. But Nesta did not.

Nesta walked over to where Cassian was still laying, all bent bones and broken wings, and fell to her knees beside him. Laid a hand on his shoulder and shook it.

No.

That wasn’t right. She was shaking all of him.

“Cassian,” she called out, shaking him again. Elain’s sobs quieted as she looked over.

“Cassian…,” Nesta tried again, panic overtaking her lovely face. “Cassian wake up. Cassian. Wake. Up.”

But to his horror, he had stopped moving.

“No,” he breathed out. “That’s not possible. That’s not what happened.”

Because he had been there. Nesta had held Elain besides their father while she’d wept and wept and wept. Cassian had lain there grateful to be alive, praying that no new foes emerged while Nesta and Elain had sat there undefended. Soon enough, Mor had come looking for him and with Azriel’s help, they’d hauled him away. He’d tried to catch Nesta’s eye as he had been taken away, all for nothing. She’d avoided him in those first moments of victory, and that distance had only widened in the year to come.

But that was no longer happening. There was no Mor. No Azriel. Instead, Nesta was shaking Cassian, calling his name over and over asking him to wake up.

But he didn’t. And if he looked closer, he could see his own chest, and how obvious it was that it was no longer rising or falling. He could see his eyes had shut and his wings had tucked inwards, not even twitching here and there.

“I died.” He spoke the heavy truth, poisonous as it was to spit out.

“Indeed you did,” the snakelike female confirmed. “Tragedy too since you would have survived had Hybern not broken so many bones.”

He’d broken scores of bones in his life. It had never brought him to the brink of death, let alone fully crossed him over its threshold.

“He broke all your ribs, and one of them pierced your heart. It was internal bleeding along with all the other bleeds you had already suffered that I believe did you in.”

Cassian could only nod in horror as he watched Nesta start to sob. To scream. For help. For someone, anyone, to help them.

Elain watched transfixed in horror, sitting beside her father’s corpse as Nesta sat beside a corpse of her own.

Cassian had no idea what was going on, how he could watch his own death unravel only to be alive in the future that was today.

Nesta had laid her head down on his chest, sobbing softly, murmuring something.

“What is she saying?,” he demanded hollowly.

The goddess didn’t respond, only pressing a hand to his lower back, pushing him forward. Suddenly Cassian was no longer looking at the memory, he was in it. The smell of death and war loomed over him and the battlefield thrummed beneath his feet as he got closer to Nesta. He looked over at Elain, panicked, sure that she would go mad if she saw two Cassians in front of her.

“They cannot see us,” the goddess assured him from behind.

So Cassian took another step closer. Closer. Closer. Until he heard the words falling from Nesta’s mouth.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please,please, please.”

She whispered it brokenly, over and over and over again, all to no avail.

“She sat there like that for an hour,” he heard the goddess say. “You were going to cross over very soon with the one who takes souls over. But he saw your mate sitting there over your body, pleading for so long, so eventually I was called over.” She walked over until Cassian could feel the Otherwordly power emanating from her and into him. “I almost left her there. Almost. But as it was pointed out to me by my…colleague, she was no ordinary grieving girl.”

Cassian wanted to say that Nesta had never been just ordinary but he bit his tongue.

Nesta was still pleading. Sobbing, begging and pleading her woe. 

“Please.”

Please , she had just begged to Hybern just moments ago. Please , to spare her at father. Please , to let them go. And here she was again, doing it for Cassian. 

He recognized the blinding white light of the goddess before Nesta even noticed it. As a duplicate of the female beside him walked onto the battlefield and surveyed the scene before her. It was Elain’s gasp that had Nesta lifting her head from Cassian’s prone chest to look at her.

“Well, you certainly have raised quite a storm haven’t you Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta didn’t respond, only narrowing her eyes with contempt. Cassian laughed. The goddess from his time glared at him but Cassian couldn't’ help the small smile he kept on his face. That was his Nesta, even in the face of calamity.

“You need to let him go.”

“No.” Cassian could feel the ancient Fae command in her tone. Could practically feel Nesta resonating with ire and power as she staked her claim.

“You were not allowed to steal from the Cauldron for this girl. Not this. Anything but this.”

Cassian didn’t understand so he looked to the goddess at his right to explain.

The only answer to his question was another question.

“What is her power, Cassian?”

Cassian snorted. “Hell if anyone knows. She’s damn good at making a fire. Still shitty as hell with water, but she can pull it off. Not too great with potions, terrifyingly good with spells.”

He was graced with a withering smile that sobered him up. “I don’t know honestly. None of us do. We, well I, figured out that she’s a witch. You know witches control the elements.”

“Yes,” she affirmed, nodding, “but she is a witch by nature. She was turned Fae by the Cauldron, which created an immortal from the very fabric of her being. Who she was to her core. So she is a witch simply because she was made Fae, and those powers are what all witches have. But she stole from the Cauldron as well. What did she take, Cassian?”

Cassian shook his head. “I don’t know. She won’t say. Her power from the Cauldron is like fire but cold, almost like ice. None of us can figure out what it means.”

“Then look closer.”

So he did.

The goddess from then surveyed Nesta with a serpentine smile. “You cannot hold him here. That is not what you are meant to do. You are breaking the very laws of the world to do it.”

Holding him here. She was holding him back. From what?

Nesta growled. “I don’t want the Cauldron’s power to be your puppet. I already told you that once before.”

“And I told you that is not how our world works. You cannot take from us and pay no price. And there is always a price girl. You know this.” Then, the goddess’s face softened considerably, in a way he didn’t know was possible. “I cannot let you keep him in your world. He is dead. He cannot be tethered here anymore. Your powers will drain if you push this any longer.”

“Gods above,” he breathed out.

She was stopping him from crossing over to death. Nesta’s power…was Death. 

The goddess only nodded at him once before she turned away to stare at her counterpart ahead of them. 

Nesta visibly struggled, something like panic and agony slicing through her lovely features as she grappled with what she’d just been told. And then, as if ice melting on a spring day, the anger dissipated from her face. All that was left was hollow sorrow.

“Please. I will give anything.”

“No,” Cassian shouted out. He felt nauseous as he watched on. Knew that no good could come of this.

“What is he worth Nesta Archeron?”

Not even a moment’s worth of hesitation before Nesta was already answering. 

“He is everything.”

“So he is,” the goddess had declared with a knowing smile.

And then Cassian suddenly lost all sense of sound. He saw Nesta speak to the goddess, saw them nod at each other as some sort of agreement was sparked, all mute to him. He saw a curling mark appear on Nesta’s wrist, black as night at first form, only to glow brighter and brighter until it burned silver and then turned to nothing at all. Hidden away from the naked eye, but the bargain would remain. The goddess disappeared, and time seemed to move backwards around.

Nesta was again besides Elain, Cassian was suddenly jerking awake, no looming death for him anymore. But this time he saw the change in Nesta. Saw how she snuck glances over to Cassian as he lay there in the memory he had originally had of himself. And it became clear to him that whatever had transpired that day between Nesta and the goddess, was only privy to the two. Cassian and Elain had no recollection of it and he likely never would have had he not been shown what he had just now.

Cassian was suddenly terrified as he was ripped away from the scene before him. Terrified as the world fell away from him until he was again in that bright, clear, open field with the goddess beside him. Terrified as he wondered, what had Nesta given in exchange for his life. 

~*~

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[achaotichuman]

Here is the sixth chapter of my next generation ACOTAR fanfiction A Witch A Warrior And A Reckoning: ACT 1- The Witch (Link at bottom of the post)

Protagonists:

Dahlia Fairburn, General and Heir of Spring

Aisling Sapphirus, Healer of the Hewn City

Nyx Archeron, Son of the Witch

Relationships:

Dahlia Fairburn x Aisling Sapphirus

Nyx Archeron x Tamlin Fairburn

Azriel Shadowsinger x Eris Vanserra

Nuan x Lucien Vanserra

Original Azris Child(ren) x Tarquin

Summary

Life is peaceful for Dahlia Fairburn, running with her War Band, and commanding the Spring Court armies. Since the day she could wield a sword, she’s been helping her father, along with her younger brother, to restore Spring to its former glory. Trying to ignore the festering magic in her body, that threatens to consume her.

One day, all that peace is threatened to be shaken, as a certain prince of Night asks for her to join the rebellion of the Hewn City and Illyria. From beneath the great mountains, an ancient song calls for her. She meets a woman with death in her eyes, and power in her veins, who makes Dahlia’s blood boil while something clicks into place between them.

This new generation of Prythian was thought to be one of peace and prosperity. But the mask of the reigning High Lords begin to crumble, as secrets older than Prythian itself are uncovered, and darkness is unleashed.

An ACOTAR next generation fanfiction

Tags: Leave a comment or DM me if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list!

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[chigirisprincess]

[prythianpages]

Love Me Like You Do | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian has a bad mission and you're there to comfort him.

warnings: fluff, angst

word count: 1,887

a/n: Just something short and sweet I wrote after getting stuck on another part for this series.

Heart thudding madly against your chest, you stood at the gates of the High Lord’s riverhouse. The grand ironwork arched above you, intricate designs woven into the metal, casting shadows that danced in the late afternoon sun. The air was filled with the scent of blooming jasmine, mingling with the cool breeze coming off the nearby river.

You were tense, fingers curling and uncurling against the cute, pink cake carrier you held. A strange feeling that was becoming way too familiar for your own comfort settled into your stomach, spurred on by your concern for Cassian.

Your letters had gone unanswered for the past week and a half. You hadn’t seen him since before that, and worry began to gnaw at you. Had you done something to upset him? Or worse, had something happened to him?

It’s why you had baked a chocolate cake to have an excuse to check up on him. Taking a deep breath, you finally gathered the courage to press the buzzer. After a few moments, the gates were opening. Your legs moved almost on their own, carrying you up the cobblestoned pathway lined with neatly trimmed hedges and colorful flower beds.

As you reached the doorsteps, the door swung open, revealing the Night Court’s High Lord. Rhysand was as captivating as ever, donning that signature smile of his that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. “Y/n,” he greeted you. “What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in.”

"Thank you," you reply, stepping inside the grand foyer. "I, uh, made this for Cas…”

Rhysand’s smile softened, his violet eyes twinkling with a warmth that eased some of your tension. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had ventured off into your mind or you were simply that easy to read.

“Nyx will be disappointed it’s not for him.”

“I’ll make sure Cas shares.”

“He’s not going to,” Rhysand chuckles but all amusement leaves his face as he turns his head slightly. “He’s in his study. Third room to the right. He might be in a mood. He hasn’t spoken to us much these past couple of days. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you. Maybe you can figure out why he’s been avoiding us.”

**

When you reached Cassian's study, you paused, taking another deep breath before gently pushing the door open. 

Cassian stood in front of his desk, papers strewn about. His head was lowered, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he leaned his palms against the wood. His wings drooped slightly, their usual proud arc diminished. 

His head perked up at the sound of the door. “Go away, Rhys,” he said, voice rough, as if he hadn’t used it in hours.

“It’s not him.”

"y/n?" 

You offered a tentative smile, despite the fact his back was turned to you. "I brought you something.”

“You should go.”

Setting the cake on a nearby table, you approached him slowly, giving him time to tell you to go away. If he did, you would do so. But his silence let you know that despite his words, he didn’t want you to go. 

You moved behind him, your heart aching at the sight of his tension. Cassian didn’t talk about his role as general in the Night Court much. Though he was proud of his title, he preferred to leave work at work. You knew enough to understand how jarring and exhausting his job could be—a never-ending demand to keep the Night Court’s warriors in check and ensure their readiness for any threat.

The last time he had visited your shop, he spoke about the mission he had been dreading. One that involved visiting multiple Illyrian war camps and restoring order to the recent disturbances in Illyria. The unrest there was a knot of conflict and simmering resentment. Another never-ending chaos

It was clear to you now that, that mission had gone as he expected.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, knowing just how much physical touch meant to him. It was Cassian’s main love language, and among the first things you had learned about him. You rested your cheek against his broad back, careful not to brush against his wings.

He stiffened for a moment, but then he relaxed into your embrace. You held him close, feeling his shoulders slowly unclench as you let the quiet of the moment stretch between you, not knowing just how warm and grounding your touch was to him.

“I’ve been worried about you. It’s been awhile since you visited my shop or responded to my letters. I thought you were upset with me or something happened to you…”

He let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s been…a lot. I didn’t want to burden you–”

“You’re not a burden, Cas.” You interrupt gently. “I’m here for you.”

Cassian rested his hand over where yours were crossed. You immediately pulled away from him, turning him to face you, lips pressed into a frown as you took in the bandage wrapped around one of his hands that went all the way up to his arm. The frown in your brow deepened when you also took note of the healing bruise on the left side of his face. Instinctively, you reached out a hand but Cassian turned his head and your hand fell back to your side.

"It's nothing," he says dismissively.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.” Cassian replies but when you reach out for his injured arm, fingers gently grasping his hand, he winces.

You move his hand closer to you, gaze narrowing as you assess the bandaging. It appears to be clean and fresh–no hint of that metallic scent of blood. You decide it’s best not to unravel it as whoever treated his wound already did the most one could do. Instead, you bring his hand to your mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his bandaged hand.

“y/n, what–”

“A kiss makes everything better,” you explain, smiling when you see your lipstick left an imprint on the white bandaging. Pink stardust rose from the lip stain, traveling up and down his arm, enveloping in a magic bandage of its own before seeping into the one right below it. It draws a shudder from Cassian.

Your eyes meet his. “Would you like me to kiss that bruise of yours?” You ask, tone bordering on playful.

“I’m okay,” Cassian says, voice slightly strained as he tries to maintain his composure. He decides to redirect your attention.  “I didn’t know you had healing powers.”

“It’s not so much healing, it’s really just alleviating some pains.” You tell him with a small shrug. “I should look into some healing potions and spells some more for your sake. It won’t be as great as the healers but something is better than nothing, right?”

Cassian just stared at you.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion at his intense gaze.

Cassian blinks, tearing his gaze from you momentarily as he becomes suddenly interested in your bright, pink shoes. “Eyes, a nose, a mouth…”

He looks back up, catching the way you roll your eyes. It draws a smile from Cassian. A genuine one. 

“Rhysand says you haven’t spoken to them much recently,” you say, the name of the Night Court’s High Lord still tasting foreign to your tongue. You turn one of the chairs in front of the desk to face him before settling in. You nudge his boot with yours, silently prompting him to do the same with the chair behind him.

With a sigh, Cassian slumps into the chair across from you, his usual confidence replaced by a weary demeanor. “Is that why he sent you?”

“No one sent me. I brought myself here and that chocolate cake over there.”

Cassian’s eyes light up, a spark of his usual charm returning, making you laugh. He turns his head, following your gesture. Using your magic, you float the cake carrier gently onto his lap. “Baked it myself,” you grin proudly.

“So it’s not edible then?”

“Rude!” you exclaim, flicking your wrist and sending a sprinkle of pink stardust his way. He coughs, the glimmer of your magic enveloping him briefly in a sparkling haze. “I had Moxie taste test it, so it’s very edible.”

Cassian chuckles when he opens the cake carrier to see that a slice was indeed missing.  Comforted by your words, as that young apprentice of yours was the pickiest eater, he inhales deeply, taking pleasure in the rich aroma of chocolate that invades his senses.

But the pleasure is short-lived as your pink magic closes the cake carrier with a loud snap. His face falls slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Why have you been avoiding your family?” You ask and with a bit of hesitance, you add, “and me?”

Cassian shifts in his seat. He looks down at his hands, his fingers tracing the edge of the cake carrier. “They have their own tasks to attend to, own burdens to worry about. And you? I fear I have troubled you enough with my problems. I can work through this on my own…”

You ponder on his words with a small frown. Cassian was strong-minded and sharp. You knew he could handle his own problems, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to. He was also kind, caring, and selfless—qualities you admired about him. But sometimes, he was so selfless that he left himself out of the love he had to give.

“Cas, no one loves you like I do. You’re no trouble to me at all. You’re always there for everyone so let me be here for you.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “What do you mean? I’m serious. I’m your friend.” Your voice is tinged with concern and a hint of hurt.

“Friend.” Cassian repeats the word, his tone filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“Yes,” you say, sensing his contemplation. He looks away, his jaw tightening and you can't help but shrink back into your seat. “Do you not want me to be?”

Cassian looks at you, those hazel eyes meeting yours. You catch the way his throat bobs. “It’s not that,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart skips a beat, his words hanging in the air between you. But then he shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

“I love being your friend.” 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing…” he trails off, the weight of his words making them feel inadequate. “It’s just, you can’t always be there for–”

“Nonsense,” you interrupt firmly. “I’ll always be there for you.”

For a fleeting moment, the vulnerability in his eyes is raw and unguarded, as if he’s been caught in the storm of his emotions. Then, he nods, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. 

But the lingering sadness in his gaze tugs at your heart, even more when he asks, “always?”

You smile warmly, reaching out to trace a finger over the center of your chest, just slightly to the left. “Cross my heart.”

a/n: This takes place sometime after you meet the IC. Sorry, I keep skipping around. I just got stuck on writing that part. So if y'all have any ideas lmk. You can find a sneak park here though.

also, if you've asked to be on the tag list and your name is below but you didn't get a notif, lmk! for some reason, some of the tags haven't been working. If you've asked to be on the tag list and don't see your name below, please let me know!

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series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

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@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[sinner-as-saint]

not without you

Viking Chief!Bucky x Witch!Reader 

Run-through: You’re a powerful witch, famous and respected for your mastery of magic and ability to control the elements. Naturally, people always need you. Vikings, kings, and common men alike, be it to magically save dying crops, help them win battles, or to protect their people by manipulating the weather. One day, a certain blue-eyed Viking chief asks for your help. Bucky Barnes – one of the strongest, most feared of his kind, known for his ruthlessness and brutal nature. He offers your wandering self shelter and protection in return for your help in keeping his people and crops alive and well with the harsh winter approaching fast. And you can’t seem to refuse his offer… 

Themes: witch!reader, viking chief!bucky, smut, fluff, mild knife kink, cosy winter vibes, metal arm, tatted!bucky, possessive!bucky, slight angst, HEA, 

a/n: thank you for 28k. I love you.

The wind whispered that he was on his way to you. 

By the time the Chief and his men made their way to your makeshift shack on the edge of the woods, you were already out waiting for them. 

Hidden under your billowy cloak, with the hood hiding most of your face, you stood and faced the men with confidence. You couldn’t see them, given the hood, but you sensed the way the Chief got off of his horse, clutching his sword in hand as he took a step. Not in fear, no. But in that arrogant way you’d expect a Chief to move. 

“Witch.” He greeted you. It was the only way he could greet you anyway, nobody knew your name. 

You smirked. Finally peeling your hood off your head. You gave him a brief nod, “Chief.” You looked him right in those ocean blue eyes of his and judging by the look in them, you could tell he wasn’t used to people maintaining eye contact with him. He was an important man after all, and most people feared him. 

But your magic had a way of reading people for you and… there was nothing to be afraid of. Not of him. He did look every bit of the fearsome viking he was known as though. Thick furs couldn’t hide the tall, muscular body. His shoulder length brown hair braided in some places. His handsome face was serious, like he rarely smiled. And all that ink all over his neck, and arm – just one arm because the other one was made of pure metal. 

You had heard stories of how he’d lost his arm in battle, and how a great, benevolent king – also a close friend of his – had the metal arm constructed for him. 

But above all else, the Chief was devastatingly handsome. You’d known, courted, and befriended quite some men. Hunters. Lords. Warlocks. Princes. Kings. Yet none were quite as devastatingly handsome as the Chief. 

You quickly looked behind him and saw two men standing taller and prouder than the rest of the warriors. The wind whispered their names to you. Sam. Steve. Both were just as handsome as their Chief, however there was something about the male standing in front of you with a sword in hand. Thick white fur wrapped around his shoulders. Clear, icy blue eyes. Pink mouth. The cold made his cheeks and nose red. 

“We heard rumours that you were close to our village, and we’ve come to ask for your help.” The Chief said, gracefully, calmly. 

You gave him a nod. “I know.” You said quietly. “The north wind brings news that this winter will be exceptionally harsh.”

Bucky gave you that look that most people gave you when they figured out that your magic was indeed real. He was just a little surprised, but composed himself. “We desperately need your help.” He spoke again. 

You agreed to help of course. This was your purpose with the magic you had. 

And since you had little to pack, you went with them immediately. They didn’t bring an extra horse so you rode with the handsome Chief back to his village where you would be spending the entirety of the coming winter. 

You never asked for anything in exchange. Some witches did, most of them did not. Mainly because you never needed anything, you had magic and you could conjure anything you wanted out of nothing. But you liked having company of people. So you considered that payment. 

And after spending months on your own, you were looking forward to meeting new people, helping them. 

During the ride back to the village you’d be calling home for the coming months, you felt the Chief tense behind you. His muscular arms circled around you as he held the reins but he was respectful enough to keep a few inches between you and him. You could only assume how much stress he was putting on his back to keep him from slouching forward. 

You hid your smile as you sensed that he was nervous. “You don’t have to be so tense.” You said, turning your head to the side a little. “Witches don’t bite.” You spoke quietly so that the men behind you wouldn’t hear. 

“I don’t…” He let out a huff of warm air. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.” 

You smirked, but he couldn’t see it. “I’m just saying, you could use the warmth.” 

He didn’t know what you meant until he slowly inched closer, his chest pressing against your back. Even with the multiple layers separating the two of you, your body heat wrapped around him in a way that had him sighing in relief. 

Without another word said, his metal arm wrapped around your middle as he pulled you against him even more. You smiled as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You’re very warm.” He sounded a little surprised. His deep, gravelly voice making you shiver despite the warmth. 

“Magic, remember?” 

He hummed in response, keeping his arm loosely around your waist as he took you to his village. The tension between you two felt electric. 

—

The ride wasn’t too long, and soon you arrived at the village. It was larger than you had imagined. Busier, but tidier. 

Once you got past the tall, wooden palisades you could see more of the daily activities. Hunters sharpening their weapons, warriors training, children running around. You spotted the vast crops, the rivers. 

There was so much you couldn’t see, but the elements spoke to you. You knew there was a lake here somewhere. The Chief’s hall was beyond the wooden houses which were scattered all over. You knew there were people gathered somewhere near the beach, working on building a new boat. Multiple boats in fact. 

“Welcome to my home.” The Chief whispered as he led you deeper into the village. 

Judging by the relieved smiles on people’s faces as they spotted you, you knew they were aware that you were here to help them. You smiled back to as many as you could on your way to the main area, in the middle of the village. 

The Chief helped you off the horse and when you thanked him he said, “You can call me Bucky. All my friends do.” 

You gave me a smile, “Alright, Bucky.” 

He nodded, then pointed at a wooden house, not far from his residence, and said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” 

One of the ladies was beside you immediately, saying she wanted to help you get settled in. So with one last glance at Bucky, you made your way to your new, temporary home. 

–

The moment he walked into his home, sighing in relief at the feeling of warmth, his two best friends rushed in after him, grinning like they were up to no good. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam and Steve as he poured wine into three cups. 

“What?” He barked at them, handing them their cups before he sat on one of the few stairs that led to his seat. The one he sat on when he had to act as Chief. But when he was with his friends, he didn’t like sitting on it. 

“Are we going to address the heated looks you and the witch have been sharing or are we going to pretend nothing’s happening here?” Sam teased, leaning against a nearby table. 

Steve chuckled, sitting down near the fire in the middle of the room. “Yeah Chief, what’s going on?” 

Bucky glared at them both. He loved them to death, would die and kill for them in a heartbeat. But gods, they could be so annoying. “Enough,” He grumbled as they both laughed shamelessly at him, “She’s our guest. Most of all, we need her to survive this winter. Be respectful.” 

Sam smirked and said, “Is that what that was on the ride back? The two of you as close as lovers? Was that you being respectful?” 

Steve’s laughter echoed around the hall. Bucky wanted to chuck his cup at both of them but he didn’t want to waste the wine so he just rolled his eyes again, “Get out both of you.” 

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve spoke up, “With her as your wife we would be unstoppable.” 

Sam nodded, “Exactly.” 

“Both of you, shut up.” 

“I mean, she is beautiful. If you’re not interested, I might check out what else her magic can do when-,” Steve stopped talking the moment Bucky threw his cup at him, wine and all. 

Sam choked on his drink and laughed even harder. 

Shortly after, Bucky kicked both of them out of his home. He was surprised at how it suddenly got hard to breathe or think the moment Steve even jokingly hinted at getting intimate with you. Bucky felt so protective over you despite having met you just hours ago. 

He just wished he could keep that under control for the coming months. You were his guest after all. He couldn’t be inappropriate. 

— 

He couldn’t sleep that night. The village was quiet, dark. The night was cold given winter was approaching really fast. The next day, he had plans to give you a tour of the village and thinking about spending hours with you was making him nervous. But in a good way. Gods, he was turning into a little boy with a crush. This was bad for his image. 

He couldn’t sleep, so he figured a walk might tire him out. So he layered up in his favourite furs, grabbed a torch and stepped outside. It was dark, save for the moonlight. And also light coming from your temporary home. 

Bucky was walking towards the wooden house before he even realised it. His hand was knocking against the door before he could talk himself out of it. He should let you rest. He should act like a grown up and walk away right now. Being Chief he should– 

He stopped functioning the moment you opened the door and looked up at him. Dressed in a beige night dress, a woollen blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the dimmed light of the torches made you look ethereal just standing there at the door. 

You spoke first, “Bucky.” You didn’t sound surprised. You knew he was coming over the moment he stepped out of his home. “It’s rather late, is something wrong?” You couldn’t help but ask. You knew he was coming over, but you didn’t know why. Your magic, fortunately, didn’t allow you to read minds. 

Bucky placed the torch on the sconce by the door and cleared his throat, standing proud and tall like one would expect him to. “I saw your lights were still on. I couldn’t help but worry so I… uh, came to check.” He paused, awkwardly. “Do you… are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” 

You sensed his slight nervousness even without using your magic. You tilted your head to the side and smiled at him, “I’m very comfortable. Your people were kind enough to–” You stopped, noticing how foggy his breaths were, “Please come in,” You opened the door wider, “It’s cold out.” 

Bucky accepted the invitation. As soon as he stepped in, you placed your hand on his chest. Bucky blinked and in the fraction of a second, he felt comfortably warm. He gave you a thankful smile. 

You smirked playfully and whispered, “Magic.” Then you moved towards the makeshift kitchen, “Tea?” 

Bucky grimaced and said, “I don’t like that bitter stuff.” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

You chuckled, “I bet you will like this one.” You went ahead and made him chamomile tea, with warm milk and a generous dollop of honey. 

By the time you brought the mug to him, you found him bent over your little desk. He was looking down at the map you were currently making, your special black ink on special parchment paper. 

Bucky whispered his thanks as he took the mug, then said, “You’re making a map of the village?” He sounded both amazed and confused. “No one has been able to make one this accurate. You haven’t even… “ He paused, “Of course,” He smirked, “Magic.” 

You smiled. “Maps help me control my spells better. It’s enchanted parchment you see,” You pointed at the map, “I can even work from here with the help of the map.” You looked back up at him and saw the look of delight on his face as he took his first sip of the tea. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, “You laced this with magic as well?” 

You giggled, “No, just milk and honey.” 

Bucky just stared at you with soft eyes. In the dim, golden lights his eyes twinkled like that of a wolf. You stared into them, neither of you spoke. Until he finally blinked, pointed at the map and said, “It must be incredible, being this talented.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle in a self-deprecating way. “Talent.” You repeated, looking down at the map. Then quietly said, “I was always taught and told that my magic was a great weapon. But thank you, I guess.” 

Without another word said, Bucky placed his half empty mug down and grabbed both of your hands in his large, warm ones. He tugged you closer, gently. Just the slightest bit so he could have your undivided attention. 

“You’re not a weapon. You won’t ever be one, not here.” He said, softly. Slowly. “You are our salvation.” 

You had been repaid in many ways throughout your life. Chests filled with gold. Jewels. Feasts and balls thrown in your name. Even a few marriage proposals from influential families. But no one had ever told you that you were their salvation. Something about Bucky saying it, even before you got him and his people through the winter, made you tear up just a little. 

His face softened as he wiped that tear away from your cheek with his slightly cold metal arm. “I mean it.” He whispered. Then he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, “You are so beautiful.” Then a little closer to your mouth. “So warm.” Then finally pressed his lips against yours as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and pressing you against the soft furs he was wearing. 

You couldn’t help but moan quietly into the kiss. That made him growl, made him deepen the kiss. His warm hand cradled your face as his metal arm wrapped around your waist. His lips were surprisingly soft, and his kiss was gentle. Sensual. Your hands wandered over his chest. You could feel his heart racing. You could feel him breathing deeper, but refusing to break the kiss. 

You gasped in pleasure when his mouth left your lips briefly to kiss along your jaw, making your heart flutter in anticipation. But then, he stopped and pulled away. He was breathless, frowning, his lips wet and pink. 

“I… I shouldn’t.” He licked his lips and you almost moaned again. “You’re…” He took a deep breath. “You’re my guest. And you only just got here.” He shook his head, as if disappointed in himself. “I shouldn’t have pounced on you like an animal like that.” 

You fixed the blanket around your shoulders, giving him a playful, though disappointed, smile. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but no one even mentioned you were such a proper gentleman.” 

Bucky cleared his throat, then gave you a heated look that screamed that if he didn’t get out of here right this instant he would surely be pouncing on you again. “I should go.” He mumbled. “Thank you for the tea.” 

You nodded, “You’re very welcome. I will see you tomorrow, for the tour?” 

He nodded. Then as he turned to leave, he paused. He turned back around and unwrapped the thick white fur from around his shoulders and placed it on your desk. The tunic he wore was loose around his neck so you could see the ink on his skin peaking through. “Keep this,” He said, “you might need it for tomorrow.” 

You smirked, understanding what he was playing at. He knew you could keep yourself warm. But he just wanted you to wear something of his while he showed you around tomorrow. He wanted everyone to see you wearing something of his. You had heard of vikings being territorial, and truthfully, you didn’t mind this one bit. 

You played along, pretending to be oblivious. “Won’t you be cold then?” 

As he stepped out of the door, he turned to look at you. Smirked and said, “I think your magic will keep me warm enough.” 

You chuckled as he shut the door behind him, took his torch and left. Who knew the Chief would be such a flirt? 

— 

Bucky had never been this excited to give someone a tour of his village. He was at your door the next morning, early and ready. He knew you already had a map, but he wanted you to see the place properly. 

You caught the approval in his smile when he saw you wearing the fur he left you as you stepped out to join him. He was wearing black furs, and looked just as majestic. 

“My people are delighted that you’re here to save us from the winter,” He said as the two of you began walking towards the centre of the village, the busiest part he told you. “So expect a lot of gifts along the way.” 

You didn’t know what to expect. And even after politely refusing many, many tokens of thanks from his people, you already had baskets filled with cheese, berries, fresh bread and you were even done with the tour yet. Bucky, of course, carried the baskets for you. 

He was in a good mood, you realised. He was showing off a little as he gave you the tour. Showing you all the new warehouses, the new boats that were being built near the beaches, the new houses being made as the number of people grew. 

He showed you the hall where himself, Steve, and Sam often trained young kids. They taught them how to fight, to defend. They’re vikings, they need to be ready, he said, for anything and everything. 

He had a glow on his face as he spoke about the kids, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How come you don’t have any?” 

Bucky gave you a faint smile. Then said, “After my father died, I had to take care of everything around here. And I guess I never had time.” He paused, “I also never found the right person.” 

You turned to look at him and he was looking the other way, surely hiding a smirk. You decided to drop the subject. 

Bucky led you deeper into the village, near the lake. “It looks incredible in the summer, but–,” He stopped talking once the two of you heard male voices shouting. It sounded like it was coming from the lake. 

You followed Bucky as he rushed to the lakeside and let out a groan. You chuckled once you saw what he was looking at. His two friends, Steve and Sam, arguing in the water about who pushed who first. 

Bucky sighed and said, “I apologise, I wish these two would act like adults.” Then he yelled at them, “Hey! Stop trying to make me look bad. And get out of the water both of you, I can’t have you both freeze to death!” 

You watched how the two of them swam towards the shore and eventually got out, trembling. 

“Gods, I hate you.” Sam said, shivering. 

“You pushed me!” Steve argued, shoving Sam. 

Sam shoved him back, “You pushed me!” 

“Enough!” Bucky turned to you and said, “My useless friends,” He introduced, “I wish you would’ve met them in more normal circumstances.” 

You laughed, then walked up to the two men. “Hello,” You said and placed your hands on each of their shoulders, your magic would keep them from shivering. And the moment you touched them, they both sighed in relief. “There, that should keep you warm until you get home.” 

You couldn’t help but check them out. They were both muscular and fit, and the way the wet tunics clung to their bodies… their muscular torsos, and biceps bigger than– 

Bucky cleared his throat and you quickly looked away. You were almost certain Sam and Steve were smirking as they mumbled their goodbyes and hurried home. 

“We should get back.” Bucky said, his mood immediately turning sour. 

When the two of you did head back, he walked you to your home, handed you your baskets full of food and gifts, whispered a brief goodbye and left. You had planned that you would ask him to join you for dinner, as a way of thanking him for the tour. But he was just so grumpy on the way back that you decided not to. 

But then you were restless the whole evening. You made yourself a quick dinner and sat by the fire to read but something didn’t feel right. 

As it got later, the village got more and more quiet. And dark. When the wolves began howling you knew it was very late, but as you looked through the window, you saw that the lights inside Bucky’s home were still lit. 

He was awake. 

You debated walking over to his place, but then decided not to. You had to get to work the next day and surely you’d get a chance to talk to him then. 

—

You visited the crops first, drawing your runes in the dirt. That’s where you ran into Steve and Sam. They wished to introduce themselves properly, and the three of you began talking. They showed you around for a little while, making you laugh at their jokes and stories of their childhood. 

They kept you company while you worked and at some point, you sensed that someone was watching you. You knew who it was before you even turned around. 

There was Bucky standing, proud and tall, quite far from the crops. The same broody expression on his face as the day before. 

You almost lifted your hand to wave at him but then he walked away. 

“We better leave,” Steve said with a mischievous smile. 

“I’m afraid if the Chief sees us around you again he might behead us in public.” Sam winked at you and then walked away. 

So Bucky was jealous. 

After you were done with the crops, as you made your way home in the afternoon, you ran in Bucky in the village centre. He was on his way home as well, you realised, so you walked a little faster until you caught up to him. 

Once you were beside him, you said, “Hello, Bucky.” 

“Hello.” He mumbled. 

“I worked at the crops today, I drew my runes.” You told him. 

“I know, I saw you earlier.” He said.

His voice held enough distaste that you couldn’t help but ask calmly, “Why are you angry at me?” 

He threw you a look and mumbled grumpily, “I’m not angry. I’m very grateful that you’re here.” 

"Then why won't you talk to me?" You asked. "You look like you're angry." You paused, then asked, "Is it because I was talking to your friends?" 

He stopped walking immediately. Turned to face you and said, "What were the three of you talking about anyway?" 

You had to hide a smirk as you answered, "Nothing in particular. They were just keeping me company." Seeing he still had that broody look on his face you asked, “Does that bother you?” 

He scoffed. "No." He frowned. "Why would it? You're free to talk to whoever you want, you're our–" 

You cut him off, "Guest, yes. I know." You smiled. "Well then, how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" 

Bucky's bright blue eyes stared at you, an unexplainable expression in them. "Another time." He said much to your surprise. 

The rest of the walk back was filled with awkward silence. 

That night, you were restless. After a quick dinner, you sat by the fire to read but you couldn’t quite get into it. Then you got up and looked through the window and saw that the lights in Bucky’s home were still on. 

Again. He was awake. This time you didn’t think twice before putting your cloak on and walking to his front door. It was so quiet that you could hear the knocks echoing. Two knocks later, Bucky opened the door. 

His braids were undone, yet he looked just as handsome. “It’s late.” He said. 

“Also very cold, you should let me in.” You said. 

Bucky opened the door wider, letting you in before shutting the door. 

You walked into his home and took it all in. The place smelled like him, and a little smoky. Probably due to the fire that burned in the middle, keeping the place nice and warm. You saw his seat. His swords and weapons hung on the walls, along with artworks. Furs and rugs scattered on the floor, the place was cosy. 

“Nice place.” You commented as you turned to face him. You found him leaning against a nearby wooden column, with a drink in hand. 

He gave you a curious look. “Surely you didn’t walk all the way here to comment on my home.” He said. He looked good. The dim light from the torches made him look like a god. Long brown hair, pretty blue eyes. His tunic was loose now, showing a lot of the ink on his skin. His metal arm caught the light a few times, shining occasionally when he moved. 

You felt your heartbeats echoing louder in your ears the more you looked at him. And then… then he had the audacity to slowly lick his lips. 

That did it. You walked up to him, carefully took the cup from his hand and brought it to your lips. You held his stare the whole time. You took a careful sip because whatever it was, it was very strong. Then said, “No, no I didn’t.” 

Bucky gave you a heated look. One that was familiar from the other night when he kissed you. “You know, it’s rude to snatch someone’s drink. Especially the Chief's.” 

You smirked at him. “Do something about it then,” You added mischievously, “Chief.” 

“Oh?” Bucky’s metal arm was around your waist in no time, pulling you into his warm, muscular chest. “Now you want my attention?” He taunted, his voice deep, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the smirk on your lips. “What about when you were shamelessly staring at other men right in front of me? Or what about earlier, when you were–” 

You cut him off with a chuckle. “Just say you are jealous.” You took another sip from his drink. “And if this is how you treat your guests then I think I can imagine why everyone fears you.” 

“I’m not jealous,” He mumbled, nuzzling your cheek. “I just don’t like seeing you with other men.”

You gasped, and almost dropped the cup in surprise as he kissed along your jaw softly, biting you playfully while he’s at it. “So possessive,” You whispered, “We only just met.” You teased. 

His grip tightened around your waist before he pulled away to look at you. His blue eyes now dark with desire and longing. “Yet I haven’t been able to think about anything other than wanting to have you all to myself ever since I kissed you that night.” He said. 

He looked down at your mouth as he spoke, and it only made your heart race faster. “Bucky…” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, you just… wanted. “Please.” You found yourself whispering. Pleading, which you had never done before. 

Bucky clenched his jaw and turned, pressing your back into the wooden column he was leaning against earlier. The cup fell to the floor, neither of you paying much attention to it. His metal hand cupped your face and he stared into your eyes as he spoke. 

His voice was dangerously low as he spoke, “You must understand, if we do this there’s no going back.” He said, looking down at your parted lips. “If we do this, you’re mine.” He reiterated, “If we do this,” He leaned in to brush his soft lips carefully against yours, making you gasp and whimper, “You belong to me and only me. Are we clear?” 

The rasp in his voice and the feral desire lacing his words already made your brain foggy. “Yes,” You whispered, placing the palms of your hands pressing against his warm chest and partially exposed skin. 

He wasted no time in undoing your cloak and letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles. Bucky had a devilish smile on his face once he saw that you were wearing nothing beneath the cloak except for flimsy undergarments. Near transparent ones. 

Bucky’s eager hand trailed up your body, gently, starting from your thigh all the way to your breasts. The warmth of his hand made you shiver in pleasure. “So this is why you were complaining about being cold?” He whispered in your ear while his hand ran up and down your sides. “I thought you could manipulate elements to keep yourself warm.” Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch. 

“Well, I can manipulate the elements.” You said. Bucky pulled away to look into your eyes. “But there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He smirked at the sight of the look of mischief in your eyes. 

Then he gently tugged on the delicate necklace around your neck, toying with the crystal pendant leisurely as if he had all the time in the world. As if he couldn’t see you squirming under his touch, wanting more. 

“It’s…” He frowned at the crystal, now holding it between two metal fingers. “It’s moving.” He whispered, and sounded so genuinely confused that it made you smile. Who knew this tall, muscular, godlike man could be adorable? 

You nodded, looking at the crystal. It was clear mostly, except for a greyish, dark, flowy mist moving around inside it. It looked like smoke trapped inside the crystal, but it was just energy. “I was given this by my family the day I left my home when I was a young girl. As a gift. For protection.” You explained. 

You looked up to find him looking down at you with a heated, wild look in his eyes. “I’m here now,” He said. “I’ll protect you. Always.” He pulled you closer, pressing your barely clothed body against him. 

You smiled, sliding your hands up until your fingers slid into his soft hair. The light from the burning torches began to dim, making the room slightly darker but still golden. The smirk on Bucky’s handsome face signalled that he knew you were messing with the torches. 

“I want you,” You whispered, pressing your lips to his cheek. The slight stubble felt rough against your mouth. But it only made you wonder where else it would feel rough. And you couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped your mouth. 

As if he could read your mind, Bucky chuckled. He grabbed you by the neck, tightening his grip just a little, enough to make you feel warm all over. “I don’t think I could be gentle…” He whispered, his metal hand reaching for the fine dagger he kept on him at all times. 

He carefully pressed the tip flat against your lower lip. Your heart began racing faster. Bucky slowly dragged the tip of the dagged down your chin, down the side of your neck, down in between your breasts before he cut the fabric, slicing it in two and letting that fall down to the floor as well. You hissed as the cold air hit your now exposed breasts. Bucky seemed pleased as he let go of your neck, his hand trailing down to fondle with your breast instead. You tipped your head back and moaned at his touch. 

He kept the dagger pressed against your skin as he leaned in to kiss your exposed neck, “I don’t want to be gentle.” He said. 

You let out a gasp as he slid the tip of the dagger sideways, circling your nipple with it deliberately slow. “Good,” You whispered, “I don’t want you to be gentle.” 

Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you’re perfect.” He dragged the tip of the dagger down, sliding it slowly across your abdomen, right above the waistband of your undergarments. Over and over again until you were squirming, and gasping, and grinding on nothing. 

“Please,” You said, looking at him with soft eyes.

Bucky held your stare as he slid the dagger under the fabric of your undergarment and sliced that off of you as well. Fuck that sound of fabric tearing off of your body did something to you. 

“Please,” You begged again. You were unable to ignore the wetness in between your legs anymore. Neither could he. 

Once there was not an inch of fabric shielding you from his hungry stare, Bucky threw the dagger onto the pile of your clothes and next thing you knew, you were being pushed down onto a nearby pile of soft furs. 

He pinned you down by your throat, as he hovered above you, leaning over with his metal hand wrapped around your neck firmly while he stared down into your eyes. “You look so beautiful like this.” 

You gave him a smirk and said, “It’s your turn. I want to see you.” You wanted to see the ink on his skin, trace it with your finger. You wanted to see him naked on these furs with you. You had never longed to touch someone like this before. 

Bucky held your stare, arrogant grin on his face as he pulled away to take off his tunic and lower his pants. 

You let your eyes feast on him. Ink covered more skin than you thought, but it suited him. He looked every bit the fierce Viking he was. You wanted to take your time and admire the artwork on his body but… later. Right now, you wanted him. 

You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer, pressing your mouth to his and kissing him deeply. “I want you,” You whispered again. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky’s hand was back around your throat as he growled into the kiss, “I know.” 

Guess he could take his time and caress every inch of you like he wanted to later, right now though, he needed to have you. He was hungry for it. So he pulled away from the kiss, parted your legs and slid a finger inside you, reassuring himself that you were ready for him. 

Bucky groaned when he found that you were dripping for him. “All that for me?” He teased, settling in between your legs and pressing the tip of his cock against you. You gasped and whined as he slid the tip of it up and down your slit. 

“Please,” You begged, whining. “Hurry up or I swear to gods I will make sure your house is always freezing throughout winter.” 

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “No need for all that, little witch.” He whispered as he pushed his cock into you, stretching you out in a way that made it hard for you to even think about anything else. 

“Do I feel good inside you?” He questioned, teasing and knowing full well you weren’t in a headspace to answer him. His hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you that he knew you couldn’t even think straight. 

And fuck did he feel good snug inside you. You just whimpered in response, staring up into his pretty blue eyes. “More,” You whispered, “I want more.” 

He smirked, digging his knees into the furs before he pulled out and pushed back into you. He set a hard and fast pace that made your head spin with pleasure. He was just as passionate as you expected him to be, his kisses were messy and his grip on your body was tight. He growled and moaned against your mouth as he sped up into you. 

You were a moaning mess under him. Your legs locked around his waist as he pounded into you, “You feel so good,” He said, “Look at you, all wet and open for me.” He slowed down for just a moment, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust it. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” He asked, slow fucking you until you felt a tear escape your eye. 

Fuck, he was keeping you right on that edge. It drove you mad. 

“Tell me, sweetheart.” He kissed along your jaw, nibbling on your skin. “When you walked all the way here tonight, wearing basically nothing as you knocked on my door in the middle of the night,” He chuckled, “Is this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?” 

You nodded, more tears falling down. It was so good, almost overwhelming. His words, his deep voice, the heated look in his eyes as he fucked you slowly, his weight on top of you, his warmth… 

“Yes,” You whispered, “It’s all I wanted.” 

Bucky sped up again, taking you by surprise and you couldn’t help the sinful moans that escaped your lips. He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen instead, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. “Well there you go,” He said, as if taunting you, “Here I am. Deep inside you.” He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “Just how you wanted.” 

You whimpered desperately as he fucked you deeper. You felt your walls clenching around him. You felt the familiar feeling, the pressure down there just waiting… waiting to explode. Your back arched off the furs as he brought you right to the edge again before slowing down. It was brutal.  

You gasped in shock, and the now ruined orgasm. Bucky smirked. “That’s punishment,” He said, “For talking to other men right in front of me.” 

You frowned, “You’re cruel.” 

Bucky kissed you one more time before he flipped you around and pulled you onto your knees and pushed into you again from behind. You moaned out loud, not expecting that but welcoming the feeling of being full again. 

You laid your cheek down on the furs, the softness of them a stark contrast to how rough Bucky was being, handling your body like you were just a toy. It made you smile in pure bliss as he gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you incessantly, sighing and groaning in the process. 

More tears escaped your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. You felt the pressure at your core forming again as Bucky pounded into you mercilessly, fucking you like an animal. Bending and contorting your body however he liked. Pressing your head down as he sped up into you until you came, crying out loud and clenching around him so hard it took him everything not to finish inside you. 

He quickly pulled out and came all over your lower back and thighs. He took a moment to admire all the marks he’d left on your skin before pulling you into his arms as he laid down beside you. 

You placed your ear right above his heart, listening to it gradually calm down like yours did. Only then did you have enough energy to keep your eyes open and admire the ink on his skin. You traced the closest one with a finger. 

“A dragon?” You asked. 

Bucky chuckled softly. “I like to think they might have been real at some point.” 

You pulled away, holding yourself up using your elbow. You looked down at Bucky and said, “Of course they were. They were magical beings, they got along well with witches and warlocks in fact.” 

Bucky looked pleasantly surprised. “You are so full of secrets.” He said, lifting a finger up to your face and gently traced the shape of your mouth. “Tell me more,” He pulled you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck and making you laugh, “What happened to the dragons?” 

— 

Sleeping in each other’s beds became part of the routine. 

Some nights he would come over after the village had gone dark and quiet. Other nights you’d go over to his place and stay till early morning. 

Nobody knew about you and Bucky, except for Steve and Sam who couldn’t stop grinning like mischievous devils each time they ran into you. 

Days passed this way. The weather got colder, and you kept the village in perfect shape. The rivers kept flowing even though they should be frozen. The lake as well. The crops stayed healthy. As did the cattle.

Your magic had created an invisible dome over the entirety of the village. A vast dome that only you could see. 

The people were safe from the intense cold and they were warm, fed, and happy. 

But doing all that always made you extremely tired. Usually you’d hide it well behind faint smiles and blame it on it being a long day. But even at night you had to use your magic to keep the dome intact. And although you did your best to hide it, sometimes your weariness would show. 

Like the one time when Bucky caught you by the lakeside late at night. 

You were sitting on the jetty, looking down at the dark water. The moonlight made the surface shine, and just beyond the lake, right where the dome ended, you could see the harsh winds of the blizzard that you were currently keeping away from Bucky’s people. But from within the dome, no one could even hear it. 

And just when you thought of Bucky, you heard him walking on the jetty and on his way to you. 

“I looked for you everywhere.” He said, sitting down next to you on the edge. “Are you alright? You never come here this late.” He sounded genuinely concerned. 

You smiled at him, his pretty face glowing under the moonlight. Then you pointed at the blizzard, and Bucky swore under his breath when he saw what was happening beyond the dome, “I came to make sure everything was safe.” You said. “I had to draw some of the runes again.” Then you added, “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” 

Bucky loosened the furs around his shoulders and opened his arms for you to snuggle up to him. 

You gave him a smirk as you slowly scooted closer to him, “I can keep myself warm, remember?” 

“Yeah, but there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He teased, wrapping his arms and the furs around you, holding you close to him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek softly then said, “You seem tired. I didn’t realise magic would take such a toll on you.” He sounded a little embarrassed. 

“Hey,” You placed a gentle hand on his rough cheek. “This is how it is. Magic has a cost, it feeds on my energy and that’s just how it works. I should be okay after a few hours of sleep.” You smiled up at him. “Can I ask about the arm?” 

He smiled, tapped you on the nose with his metal finger and said, “Bravery has a cost, my lady.” You laughed, and he eventually told you the story. And by the time he was done, he noticed you were just about to fall asleep. “Hey, come on. Let’s go to bed.” 

You let him help you stand up and said, “I’m tired tonight, maybe–,” 

He cut you off. “That’s not what I meant.” He pulled you closer and kissed you gently, “I won’t do anything, I just want you in bed with me. You’re doing so much for us, let me take care of you and do what I can.” He added, pressing another kiss on your lips, “Please.” 

You smiled and gave in. 

And turns out, sleeping in his bed, in his arms was enough to recharge you. 

— 

One day, a messenger came with urgent news for Bucky. 

A little far from this village was another one, and the news said that their Chief had died leaving behind no one to care for the people. Since Bucky was the closest, they were begging him to help them last this icy winter. 

Bucky held a meeting with his inner circle – his friends, and now you as well. Everyone gathered near the fire in the middle of Bucky’s home. Outside, the weather was getting colder. Your magic kept everyone here comfortable but those people who had asked for help… they wouldn’t last long. 

“We can’t help them.” Bucky said, surprising everyone in the room. 

Tony, the one who created weapons for every warrior in the village and also part of Bucky’s inner circle, spoke up first, “What do you mean here, Chief? Those people will die.” 

Steve nodded, agreeing, “There are children, cold and starving. We can’t leave them.” 

“Think about it,” Sam said, “We could have more people in our army to fight for us, with us.” 

Bucky stopped his slow pacing, then turned to all of you. “How are we going to care for these people? I mean, I guess we’ll have enough food for everyone but what about shelter?” 

Peter, Tony’s apprentice, spoke up this time, “We have enough material to build houses. I mean, we could always pause on the boats for now and use those materials for houses. You’ll have to go bring the people over anyway, and by the time you’ll be back I suppose we could have houses ready by then.” He looked over to Tony for approval. The latter nodded in agreement. 

“That will cost too much.” Bucky said. Then sighed. “I have to care for the people here.” 

You spoke up this time, “I could help.” You said. “I have more gold than I could ever use. And I could help with the building, and–,” 

Bucky cut you off gently, “No, I cannot ask you for all that. You’re already helping us, and this wasn’t part of our arrangement.” He paused for a moment, only the crackling logs filled the silence, “Besides, I’ve seen what using magic constantly does to you.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s just how it works,” You repeated. “It’s like when you complain about being tired after a whole day of training. Doesn’t mean you won’t ever train again.” You reasoned. “And as for our arrangement, I agreed to help. So let me.” 

Bucky sighed again, walking over to you as if the rest of the people in the room didn’t exist. Honestly, the moment you stared into his clear blue eyes, it didn’t matter who else was in the room. 

“It’ll wear you out.” He said softly, almost in a whisper. 

You gave him a faint smile, “Guess you’ll just have to take better care of me then.” 

He was about to reach out and cup your face in his hands but then Steve, Sam, and Tony all cleared their throats to get your attention back on the current issue. You avoided all their eyes awkwardly while Bucky smirked shamelessly. Peter just seemed confused. 

“Fine,” Bucky said. “We’ll bring the people. We’ll take the boats.” He announced. “We leave today itself.” Then he proceeded to assign the work of building additional houses over to Tony and Peter. Sam and Steve, along with other warriors, were going with Bucky. 

Then the men left, Tony and Peter went to gather people to help them start building immediately and Sam and Steve went to get the other warriors to prepare for their journey. Once they were out of the house, Bucky pulled you close. 

“That was generous of you.” He said, nuzzling your neck and kissing it. “I’ll be gone for two weeks at least, you know?” He said. “I’ll miss you.” His lips brushed along your neck, stopping at the corner of your mouth, “I’ll miss this.” His arms tightened around you, making you gasp. 

“I’ll miss you too,” You said, pulling away to look at him. “The sea will be rough,” You said, “Take this.” You took the crystal necklace off of your neck and put it around his, hiding it under the layers he wore. “That should keep you safe.” Then you looked around and said, “You should start packing your things. My magic won’t work given the distance so you’ll need more furs to keep you warm.” 

He looked at you with soft eyes. “Usually no one fusses over me like this.” He said, “I like it. I like it a lot.” 

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “Now hurry up. Those people need you.” 

“Hmm,” He leaned down for a kiss again. “If anyone touches you while I’m gone I will behead them.” He said, half-joking. “One more thing, I want you to stay here while I’m gone.” He said, referring to his house. “Sleep in my bed every night. Oh and think of me. Miss me. A lot.” 

You laughed. “Understood, Chief.” 

— 

You went to see Bucky off when he left later that evening. He looked like a King and his armada, setting off for battle. 

He was barely out of your sight and you missed him already. You whispered a prayer to the strong winter winds, telling them to keep him safe until he comes back. 

—

For the entirety of the two weeks which followed, you worked harder than ever. The dome, the crops, the cattle, the rivers and lake, and now the construction. Your magic fortified the wood used for the new houses, all the gold you had accumulated over the years helped the village immensely. 

The people were so grateful. And you did your best to keep their spirits up while their Chief was gone. 

It made you feel all warm inside whenever people would gush about how incredible of a leader Bucky was. You wondered if he knew his people loved him so much. Then, almost always, quickly followed by that warm fuzzy feeling was intense worry. 

You never had anyone to worry about this much. So this was new for you. 

By the end of the second week, each morning you’d wake up and go by the beach to see if you could see the ships coming. They didn’t. 

You slept in his bed like he wanted you to. And that just made things worse. Because now not only did you worry about him, but you missed him like a mad woman. His scent was all over the bed and the covers. 

But then one morning, as you went to the beach to check, you saw them. The ships, tiny little dots near the horizon. They were coming back. He was coming back. 

Great timing in fact because the houses were just done building as well. And the crops had just been harvested. 

Some hours later, the ships docked. And the new people had arrived, with their entire lives packed into trunks. While everyone showed the new ones to their houses, you looked for Bucky. You couldn’t even hide the smile on your face as you spotted him, running to him. 

Bucky smiled as you ran into his open arms, hugging him tightly. You didn’t see the approving smiles on the faces of people around you, all you cared about was that Bucky was here, safely. 

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” He whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you.” 

You pulled away to look up at him. “You’re back.” You whispered, delighted. 

He cupped your face and leaned down to press his forehead against yours, sighing. “I wish I could take you to bed and show you how much I missed you, but…” 

“Later,” You finished his sentence. “There’s a lot of work to be done right now.” 

He nodded. Then you felt something moving near your ankles, getting tangled up in your flowy cloak. You looked down and saw a small ball of white fur. Bucky chuckled as you bent down to pick it up. 

“The mother and the rest of the litter didn’t survive the cold,” He said, “But I found this little guy as we were evacuating the village. He was hiding under a pile of hay, all hungry and trembling. And I thought, who else would take better care of him than a certain generous witch I know?” He explained, a little flustered, ”So I brought him along. For you.”  

You looked at the fluffy, white wolf pup in your hands. You already loved him with all your heart. Then you looked up at Bucky again, “Thank you. I love him.” You said, kissing him on the cheek, “And thank you for not leaving him behind.” 

He smiled, “Oh well,” He looked around to see his people helping their new guests get off the boats, offering to carry their luggage for them. He looked beyond proud. “What’s one more addition to our village?” He shrugged, smiling at you. 

–

It took some hours, but by nightfall everyone had a bed to sleep in and roof over their heads. Bucky was so pleased he insisted they celebrated this feat. Plus he wanted the new members to feel welcomed and comfortable so he held a feast. 

Food and ale makes everyone feel at home, he said. 

So the feast was held. The village centre quickly became a vibrant, bustling scene. And the music was the best part. You had travelled to so many places but you had never heard such rich music and singing. 

As you walked around, enjoying the atmosphere, everyone thanked you for your help. Usually by this time well into winter, food was always scarce. But with you and your magic here, everyone was happy and their bellies were full. 

You caught Bucky’s stare from across the crowds of people a lot of times. His heated stare that held promises which made your face feel all hot and made your body tingle. But he was busy catching up with his people right now, he made sure to speak with each and everyone of the new members of his village, he spoke with the kids and promised them that they would be restarting training soon. He even held some of the babies that had been born while he was away. 

And you watched him with fondness. Watched how he smiled, watched how he let the kids mess with and admire his metal arm, watched how gentle and kind he could be, as well as how stern and assertive. 

And then he caught you staring. He smirked at you while you pretended that your entire being didn’t come alive under his attention. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs together as he began walking over to you, finally. 

The music rose to a crescendo as he made his way to you. Tall, strong, with a confident and slightly arrogant gait. He stopped when he was right in front of you, the lit torches made his skin look golden, and his eyes… oh his eyes. 

His metal head reached out to touch your face, slowly caressing your warm cheek. “Did you get a chance to eat?” He asked. 

You nodded, lost in his eyes. You didn’t even remember what you ate, if he asked you you wouldn’t know. 

“Good. Then let’s go.” There was enough raw desire in his voice that it made you move immediately. 

As you walked you asked, “Won’t they notice you’re gone?” You referred to the ongoing festivities. 

Bucky smirked as he took your hand in his, the two of you making your way through the dark, to his place. “Judging by the way you threw yourself into my arms earlier, I think they expected us both to disappear at some point.” 

After the short walk, you could still hear the music from the feast even after making your way into Bucky’s home. You could hear some vocalising, and it sounded… magical. Raw. Intense. Much like the look in Bucky’s eyes. 

“I see you did sleep here.” He noted, appreciating that you did as he’d asked. 

You took your cloak off near the fire and then followed Bucky into the sleeping area. “It was the closest I could get to you while you were gone.” You whispered, taking the layers of fur off of him. You carefully placed it down and began undoing his tunic. “Your bed smells like you.” You said, “Some nights I couldn’t sleep until I made myself come while pretending it was your hand touching me.” 

A sound resembling a growl left his mouth as he grabbed both of your wrists in one hand, ceasing your movement. “Show me.” He said, low and deep, “Show me what I missed.” 

A sly smirk formed on your lips, “Sure you don’t want to do it yourself?” 

He shook his head. “I want to see.” 

You turned and gave him your back, “Undress me then.” You expected him to undo the laces and buttons. But no. You felt something cold against the nape of your neck, and then the sound of fabric being ripped filled the room. 

You gasped in pleasant surprise. He’d torn your dress off instead. With the dagger. You let the ruined dress fall to the ground and faced him again, naked because you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments, “That was one of my favourites.” You said, looking into his lust-drunk, hooded eyes. 

“I don’t care.” He answered, truthfully. Stepping closer he raised the dagger up under your chin, pressing it gently against your skin. “If it were up to me, I’d keep you naked in this bed at all times.” 

You giggled. 

“Hurry up,” He said, “Show me.” His voice was a mere whisper. 

You could still hear the music and the singing in the background as you held his stare and laid down on his soft bed, on your back. He stood at the end of the bed looking down at you like an old god looking at a sacrifice. With hunger in his eyes like you’d never seen before. 

He watched as if in trance, as you bent your knees and spread your legs. His breaths got deeper as he watched how wet you were, your finger slowly sliding up and down your slit. He inched just a little closer as you began gasping and whimpering, your finger slipping in and out of you. 

Your other hand toyed with your nipple, twisting and tugging. You held his dark stare as you moaned, back arching off the bed, the slightly chilly air hit your bare chest and caused your nipples to erect even further. 

“Oh gods…” Bucky whispered, watching as you put on a show. Watching as you whined in pleasure as the pace at which your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you increased. You looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He was barely holding back. 

The way he watched you, the feeling of anticipation knowing he would fill you up soon, all of it made your heart race. Outside, the music rose to a crescendo again and you moaned louder, fingering yourself faster, the palm of your hands rubbing against your sensitive clit over and over again as your middle finger slipped in and out of you. 

You gasped, “Bucky…” You moaned quietly under your breath, imagining it was his fingers that were touching you instead of your own. “I need you…” you mumbled in the haze that you were in, “Please… I need you.” 

He wasted no time in grabbing you by the thighs and dragging you to the edge of the bed as he knelt to the ground. He placed your legs over his shoulders and leaned down to kiss your belly. He was rock hard, barely able to think straight. But fuck he needed to hear you moan as you came. 

“I fucking missed you,” He mumbled as he kissed around where your shaky fingers were buried in your wet cunt. “Let me taste you.” He whispered before gently slipping your fingers out of your hole and into his mouth. He sucked on them like they’d just been dipped in the sweetest honey. 

“Oh fuck…” You moaned, looking at him. The great Chief, kneeling in between your legs, sucking your taste off your fingers… it was heady. “Please,” You murmured again when you noticed that he was teasing you, keeping you waiting on purpose. 

He let go of your fingers, smirking as he looked up at you. “I’ve been wanting to taste you.” He whispered, his warm breath making you squirm. Chuckling at your restlessness, he parted your folds and buried his mouth in between them, eating you out like he was a starving man and moaning at your taste. 

Relentlessly, passionately. His warm mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked on it occasionally. His tongue teased your entrance as he took his time to feast in between your legs. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, it had gotten slightly longer you realised as you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. 

“So this is what you did, huh? While I was away, rescuing people and fighting rough seas…” His tongue slowly circled around your clit and he earned more and more moans out of you. “You were here, touching yourself.” 

Your legs trembled as he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed your core further into his mouth and made you cry out of pleasure. You whined. “Please, Bucky…” 

He chuckled, darkly. “No.” He pulled away, licking his lips. “Not so easily.” 

He stood up, got rid of all his clothes before climbing into bed with you. His glorious, inked, naked body hovered above yours as he looked down at you with nothing but fondness and desire in his eyes. You looked down, whimpering at the sight of him stroking his hard cock, it was leaking already. 

Bucky looked down at you and smiled before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You cried out, “Yes! Please, Buck–,” 

He cut you off by sliding into you, filling you up. You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly and he growled under his breath as he filled you up entirely. “Look at me,” He said. When you did, he smiled and laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up into you. “Fuck,” He swore, “You feel like you were made for me.” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once he started rocking in and out of you with your legs locked behind his back. He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you hard and fast. 

The music outside felt like it echoed inside your head. It made your heart race, like a soundtrack to this ethereal union. 

“Tell me you belong to me,” He whispered, lips brushing against yours as his cock stroked your inner walls perfectly. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“I’m… I’m yours,” You said, breathlessly. 

“That’s right,” He breathed against your mouth. “All fucking mine.” He repeated, kissing along your skin and moaning into your ear, “Fuck, you feel so good.” He said as he sped up again, fucking you nice and deep to show you that you belong to him. “Come for me,” He said, knowing he wouldn’t last too long, “Come on sweetheart, come for me.” 

You cried out as you did, coming undone as he kept pounding into you until he finished inside you. Bucky nuzzled your neck, kissing your skin as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him lazily, feeling his heart racing just as fast as yours was. 

He sighed in bliss as he finally laid down beside you, taking you with him so more than half of your body was on top of his. He kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I missed you like a madman.” 

You smiled, kissing his damp skin as you replied, “I did too. It felt… empty without you.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Your hair is longer.” You pointed out. 

Bucky chuckled, “You like it?” 

You nodded, “It suits you.” 

He smiled, caressing your cheek again. “I like you in my bed.” He murmured. 

You smirked, lifting yourself up to straddle him properly. You grabbed his semi hard cock and slid it inside you again, gasping as it went in easily. Bucky groaned in pleasure, his hands holding you by the waist, ready to lift you up and down his cock. 

“I really like me in your bed too.” You said, and began riding him until you both came once more.

—

And so, winter passed by. 

You kept everyone safe and warm. Your bond with Bucky was not a secret anymore given you were always seen together. Judging by the smiles on people’s faces when they saw the two of you together, you’d say they were more than happy for Bucky. 

You spent more time in Bucky’s house than the one you were assigned when you first got here that Bucky suggested you move in, and let someone else have the other home. 

“I like having you in my home.” He said one night as he pulled your worn out, bare body into his. He kissed your shoulder, and made sure you were properly warm under the soft furs, in his bed. “Come live with me.” 

So you moved in. 

Your days started and ended with Bucky. With his soft, loving, often demanding touch. His merciless and passionate kisses. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

He was a stern, just, and caring chief to the rest of the village but only you saw the softer side of him. 

The way some evenings he would lay his head in your lap and grumble until you played with his hair until he fell asleep. 

Or how much he loved it when you braided his hair, he’d wear it proudly. 

Or how he always gave you the best bites of food when you dined together. 

The way he would always make sure you had enough fur and blankets on your side of the bed at night. 

Or how he’d always accompany you when you took your little wolf for walks in the woods. 

Or how he’d often tempt you into going for midnight swims with him at the lake. How he’d kiss you under the moonlight, smiling like a lovesick young boy instead of the great chief he was. 

During those moments, you often wanted to freeze time and just stay with him forever. 

Forever… but that wasn’t possible, was it? 

—

The weather, naturally, didn’t stay freezing cold. It got warmer, and warmer as winter faded into a gentle, barely there spring. 

Your little wolf grew, and kept growing. Time, you realised, moved and with it came time to say goodbye. 

Winter was nearly over. Everyone knew, everyone could see it. But nobody said anything. You were still greeted with the same grateful smiles and infinite gifts whenever you stepped out. Steve and Sam never mentioned it, they kept filling your days with stories of their youth and more laughter. 

Bucky, it seemed, had forgotten all about what the end of winter meant. 

And it hurt you more than you thought it would when it came time to confront him about it. It took you two days to build the courage to break both of your hearts. You didn’t want to leave, but you had to, didn’t you? 

He was home early that evening, in a good mood too. As soon as you opened your mouth to say something though, he announced, “I’m going for a swim, come with me?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t feel like it. You go ahead.” 

He smiled, kissed your forehead and left. The sunset as soon as he was out of the door. He’d been going on a lot of swims lately, which again indicated that the weather was getting warmer. 

You waited for him to get back. Your heart breaking in the meantime. 

–

“We need to, um, talk.” You said, once he’d put on clean, dry clothes again. You watched as he dried his hair with a piece of fabric as he turned to face you. 

The buttons of his tunic undone with the tattoos on his chest peeking through, his hair was a damp mess, his blue eyes shining. He was so beautiful. So beautiful it hurt. 

“What about, sweetheart?” He tossed the fabric aside and placed his hands on either side of your waist. “Everything okay?” 

You looked up at him. Didn’t he notice? Couldn’t he see you were wearing the same cloak you wore the day he met you? Couldn’t see you were ready to leave? You spoke with tears in your eyes, “Winter is nearly over, Bucky.” You whispered in a shaky voice. 

Silence. Only the few nearby torches. And the crickets outside. 

Bucky clenched and unclenched his jaw. You could see it through the stubble on his cheeks. “What do you mean?” 

He knew what you meant. You could tell. He was just giving you a chance to rectify what you said. But you didn’t. Instead you said, “Winter is over, it’s time for me to go.” The tears fell. Hot and burning, much like the tension between the two of you even after all these months. 

Bucky was quiet, then he let out a humourless chuckle. “What are you saying? You want to leave me?” 

You sighed as he made this difficult for both of you. “You know what I mean. We had a deal, remember?” You swallowed a sob. “We–,” 

“I swear to gods,” He cut you off, pulling you closer and growling, “Do not fucking test me right now.” 

More tears fell down your face. “Bucky…” You whispered. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s what I do, I help people. It’s what I’m meant to do with this…” You sighed, “This magic.” 

“Who said that?” He argued. “Who said you couldn’t choose what made you happy? Who said you had to keep wandering? Huh?” He leaned closer, the tip of his nose touching yours, “Who said you can’t stop once you found a home? A real one?” He gently kissed the corner of your mouth. “You have a home here, you have me. Stay.” 

You breathed in the manly scent of him. Felt the roughness of his stubble against your skin. Felt his body heat. Why couldn’t you stop? Because it scared you. “I can’t.” You mumbled, even as your heart screamed stay, stay, stay. 

Bucky pulled away. His face was stone cold. Emotionless. His hands left your waist and clenched into fists as he stared at you. As Chief, he wasn’t used to people disobeying him. 

“Fine then,” He spoke with a bitter voice. “You want to leave? Then I’ll follow. And my people will follow me no matter where I go.” He spoke with a confidence that only a true leader can have. “So wherever you go, you’ll find me behind you. And a whole village behind me. Is that what you want?” You could hear the stubbornness in his voice, the determination. The promise. 

“You can’t.” You reasoned. “You have a duty here, Bucky. My work here is done, I lifted the dome yesterday and no one even noticed. That just goes to show I’m not needed here. You have a life here,” You said, “Not me.” More tears streamed down your face. Your mind and heart were screaming in contradiction. 

Bucky just stared at you, his heart slowly breaking. Then he said, calmly but fiercely, “I have nothing without you. Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, “You made me feel alive again, you made me feel like I was more than just a chief, like I was a man again. Just a man who is madly in love with the woman of his dreams.” His words made you weak. “You’re… everything. Don’t leave me.” He pleaded, quietly. 

You couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest as you sobbed. He cradled your head, kissing the top of it. 

“I will send word.” He said, as you sobbed quietly. Your tears drenching his tunic. “People will know where to come find you if they need you.” He reassured you. “Stay with me, be my wife, let’s have children together,” He cupped your face and made you look up at him. His ocean blue eyes staring down loving into yours. “Let’s have a life together.” 

You sniffled. “You’re awfully stubborn.” You said. 

He smiled, his own eyes tearing up. “And you love me for it.” 

You sniffled again. “I do.” You confessed. “I do love you.” 

“And I love you.” He leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Stay with me. You have a home here.” He whispered against your lips. “You’ve helped plenty of people all over this world. It’s not selfish if you choose to settle down now and choose your happiness.” 

“I’m scared.” You admitted. “I’ve never… I don’t know if I can… I mean, I don’t know if–,” 

He cut you off with another loving kiss. “Shh, I’ve got you. We will figure it out. Together.” 

You gave him a faint smile through the tears as you nodded. “Together.” 

And choosing to stay back with him, for him, ended up being the best decision you’d ever made. 

—

Fin.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

concepts related to different professions

Businessperson

abettor, adjutant, adviser/advisor, aid/aide, announcer, apprentice, archaeologist, assistant, auditor, authority, baker, barber, broker, businessperson, buyer, caretaker, cartoonist, chair, chef, client, colleague, conservator, consumer, correspondent, court, creator, curator, customer, dabbler, desk jockey, developer, drudge, employee, envoy, espionage, explorer, fellow, flier, flyer, fortuneteller, freshman, go-between, gourmet, guard, guru, hacker, hand, hawker, helper, hooker, inferior, informant or informer, inspector, interviewer, investigator, janitor, labor, liaison, messenger, moderator, monitor, navigator, newsman/woman, page, patron, picket, pioneer, poet, practitioner, prodigal, protégé, referee, representative, reviewer, rival, sailor, scout, seaman/woman, seller, shopper, speaker, spokesperson, spy, subordinate, tailor, traveler, virtuoso, wayfarer, writer

Educator

academic, adviser/advisor, alumnus/alumna, coach, conductor, disciplinarian, faculty, freshman, graduate, intellectual, learner, martinet, mastermind, monitor, practitioner, professor, rookie, savant, school, swami, trainer

Entertainer

acrobat, actress, aficionado, ballet dancer, character, comic, creator, director, fan, groupie, hero/heroine, humorist, inventor, luminary, magician, name, participant, personage/personality, player, protagonist, star, troubadour, virtuoso, zany

Financier

accountant, bean counter, broker, investor, spendthrift

Government officer

administrator, ambassador, authoritarian, autocracy, bureaucrat, consul, delegate, despot, diplomat, emir, empress, establishment, exile, fascist, figurehead, front runner, informant/informer, intermediary, leader, liaison, magistrate, master, mogul, mouthpiece, officer, oppressor, pacifist, patrol, personage/personality, police/police officer, prime minister, representative, snitch, spokesperson, tyrant, weasel

Legal practitioner

attorney, beneficiary, counsel, heir, judge, lawyer, officer, proponent, witness

Media person

commentator, journalist, newsman/woman, reporter, writer

Medical practitioner

analyst, druggist, nurse, patient, physician, researcher, therapist

Military person

combatant, conqueror, fighter, gladiator, lookout, militant, patrol, recruit, scout, seaman/woman, truant, warmonger, warrior

Politician

advocate, anarchist, apostle, arbitrator, conservative, dissident, extremist, firebrand, idealist, militant, mouthpiece, nonconformist, patron, picket, proponent, reactionary, sectarian

Religious person

acolyte, angel, atheist, chaplain, conformist, creator, deacon, doubter, dreamer, evangelism, father, genie, inventor, loner, minister, monk, pagan, pastor, priest, saint, skeptic, visionary, witch, wizard

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[jamscandraw]

Ref sheet for my Grimwalker OC Ambrose!! Lore under the cut but he's still in development so some of it may change

According to Emperor Belos Ambrose was “found” washed up on the shore of the Boiling Isles amid a shipwreck. It was concluded that Ambrose came from another far-off island, but with no other survivors and no memories prior to waking up, there was no way of knowing where he came from. Belos gave him a home in the castle and allowed him to train as a scout, and he was promoted to the rank of Golden Guard within a year.

As a Grimwalker, Ambrose was one of Belos’ great successes. He was almost “perfect”, i.e., quick to learn, compliant, loyal, and free of physical deformities, save for symbrachydactyly in his right hand. Disgusted by this “defect”, considering it a failing of his own, Belos told Ambrose it was the result of an injury during the shipwreck, and fashioned him a prosthetic hand with an artificial magic core embedded in the palm. This allowed Ambrose to learn the basics of magic, and because the hand looks like a gauntlet most people do not know he is not a “natural” witch, a rarity among the former Golden Guards. Because of Belos’ high expectations and harsh judgements, Ambrose was incredibly hard on himself over tiny mistakes and feared being perceived as anything less than the perfect devout follower.  He has a shaky sense of his own identity - he feels like a foreigner, but has no connection to his past or his homeland. He fears learning the truth and avoids going too near the sea.

As part of his indoctrination, Belos fed Ambrose old stories from the human world about brave knights and the divine right of kings, like the Knights of the Round Table and St George, and Ambrose became obsessed with them. He loved the concepts of chivalry and great heroes, and began to see himself as the brave Lancelot standing beside King Arthur, and the evils of wild magic were to be defeated like the dragons of old. While this did strengthen his loyalty to Belos it also gave him a sense of duty to the common folk as their protector, and he loved being among the normal residents of the isles more than being stuck in the castle. He gained a lot of respect from the common folk, as he was just as likely to rescue a child from a tree as slay a dragon. He was given the moniker “The Golden Lion”, partly due to his appearance and partly for his displays of bravery.

Ambrose was a skilled warrior and a ruthless fighter. Blinded by his loyalty, he relished in pursuing and defeating Belos’ enemies, believing himself to be the arbiter of justice. It wasn’t until he became close to other witches at court, including the skeptical and brooding Darius, that he started to realise his own hand in people’s suffering and question Belos’ orders. He confronted the Emperor, announcing he could no longer carry out his duty as the Golden Guard, and tried to leave, but was imprisoned. When Belos realised that Ambrose was no longer loyal to him, he gave him one last chance to pledge allegiance. Ambrose refused, despite Darius’ advice, and was executed for treason… (or was he?)

[ichorai]

A SONG OF CURSES AND CROWNS ; series masterlist.

A SONG OF CURSES AND CROWNS — a collection of stories in westeros following the characters of jujutsu kaisen ... themes/warnings will be specified in each part.

main masterlist.

ONE. the wolf and the beast ; assassin!toji x stark!reader (3.3k) nobody told him that his target had a direwolf.

TWO. blacksmith!choso x highborn!reader you’re engaged to kenjaku, the father of the man you’ve already fallen in love with.

THREE. night’s watchman!yuji x wildling!reader and as you aimed the tip of your arrow to his chest, yuji knew he’d fallen in love with you.

FOUR. bard!yuta x witch!reader every night, the same nightmare. that is—until he came across you in a tavern, shrouded in mystery and shadow, whispering promises of ridding him of dreams. 

FIVE. king!gojo x knight!reader gojo, the young king who refuses to marry and turns down any potential suitors, grows attached to a mysterious knight who easily dominates over all his best warriors in a tourney.

SIX. prince!megumi x prisoner!reader he had no business being in the castle dungeons. and, upon further consideration, neither did you.

SEVEN. knight!ino x tyrell!reader you aspire to be a healer, even though women aren’t allowed to be maesters. ino, who’s infatuated with you, offers for you to practice on him.

EIGHT. hand of the king!geto x lady!reader during the first few moons of your arranged marriage, geto seems to hate you—all cold and distant, barely ever acknowledging you at all. you’re determined to find out why. 

NINE. sailor!yuki x merperson!reader perhaps a shipwreck wasn’t all that bad. it was what led her to you, after all.

TEN. lord!toge x painter!reader there’s much to do with the tongue other than speak.

ELEVEN. commoner!miwa x lord!muta they both stuck out like sore thumbs—with her pale blue hair and her shoddy dress; his scarred face and club-foot that gave him a terrible limp. it was only natural that they gravitated towards each other. the bastard and the cripple, the court whispered. it was a twisted tale of romance at best, an accursed union at worst.

TWELVE. dragonrider!sukuna x dragonkeeper!reader sukuna misliked how his own dragon seemed to like you more than him.

THIRTEEN. knight!nanami x lady of the vale!reader nanami considered himself a dutiful, honorable man. even if he was completely unworthy to marry an aristocrat like you, he would stand guard by your side regardless. 

FOURTEEN. master of laws!higuruma x mistress of whisperers!reader the two of you often butted heads during small council meetings, which led to much unresolved tension within the castle. having had enough, the king decided to lock the two of you in an empty chamber until all was resolved—or until one of you was dead. whichever came first.

[iprobablyshipit91]

iprobablyshipit91 Fic Recs

So this started as me keeping links of all my favourite Dean Winchester fics that I finally decided to share so others could hopefully find some great stories and the authors would know how much I love their work. It’s kind of grown to a very, very huge list, but I love everyone of these works, they’re amazing and deserve so much love. I hope you find something you love on here 💕

There’s a mix of fluff, angst, smut, au etc. Please make sure you read the warnings for each story on it’s own page.

Beautiful Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester x Reader

Should I Stay or Should I Go by @daisythekitty

Sweet Dreams by @deanssweetheart23

Slip Up by @deanwritings

Bad Moon Rising by @hintsofhoney

Not the Planned Delivery by @lazydoodlesandfanfic

Unnamed by @lostdreamr-blog1

I’ve Got You by @spnexploration

Broken Ribs Against Fingertips by @the--blackdahlia

Motel Diablo by @waynes-multiverse

Sharing is Caring by @zepskies

Mini Date by @avanatural

The Talk by @avanatural

And Baby Makes Four by @carryonmywaywardone-shots

Nows the Time by @crashdevlin

Down on Dean by @deanwanddamons

The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch

Bullets and Bands by @deanwinchesterswitch

Capeesh? By @deanwritings

I Ship It by @deanwritings

It’s Okay by @deanwritings

Safe Now by @deanwritings

What We Lost by @deanwritings

Tell Me About… by @impala-dreamer

Glances by @kasimagines

It’s Okay, I Love You by @kasimagines

Poison by @kasimagines

Obeying Temptation by @kittenofdoomage

Sweet Satisfaction by @kittenofdoomage

Nannas Love Sammy by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Something New by @princessmisery666

Date Night by @princessmisery666

I Would Never Hurt You by @procrastinatorimagines

Frayed Ends by @scuttling

Must be Love on the Brain by @sleepywinchester

Below Freezing by @soaringeag1e

Promises by @supersleepygoat

Friendzoned by @talesmaniac89

Stupid Cupid by @talesmaniac89

Crazy on You by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Different by @watermelonlipstick

Labyrinth by @waynes-multiverse

Love on the Brain by @waynes-multiverse

Gesundheit by @waynes-multiverse

Dark Waters by @wearywinchester

Above Ground by @wearywinchester

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) by @zepppie

The Wrong Winchester by @cherry3point14

Good Things by @crashdevlin

Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons

Rumours by @deanwinchesterswitch

Blind Love by @jawritter

Faded by @kasimagines

Sacrifice by @kasimagines

The Last Call by @kasimagines

To Know You by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Watch and Learn by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Can’t Fight This Feeling by @pink-sparkly-witch

Mischief Managed (2) by @sinfulsoulx

A Few Moments of Madness | Last Time? by @smellingofpoetry

Familiar by @spnhunter4life

Dream On by @talesmaniac89

Well, Hello There Stranger by @talesmaniac89

If You Want it to Be by @zepskies

Midnight Espresso | Devour Me by @zepskies

Clear the Area by Alisha Ashton

Many of Horror by Alisha Ashton

Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks by Alisha Ashton

In the Dark by Alisha Ashton

Comfort by @fangirlingfromdownunder

Baby, We’ve got a Problem by @deanwritings

Night Falls by @deanwritings

Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer

Carry On by @jawritter

My Saviour by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Heart of a Hunter by @muchamusedaboutnothing

The Widow by @pink-sparkly-witch

The One That Got Away by @pink-sparkly-witch

Hold On I’m Coming by @ravengirl94

The Arrangement by @ravengirl94

Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat

Cross my Heart by @smol-and-grumpy

Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy

Collared by @spnexploration

Pack by @spnexploration

Limelight by @talesmaniac89

Charity Heist by @talesmaniac89

The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89

Practically Magic by @thelibrarylesstrektraveled

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 1 by @waywardaardvark79

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2 by @waywardaardvark79

Miscommunication by @winchest09

Don’t Say a Word by @winchester-girl67

Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies

[laurasimonsdaughter]

is there any aromantic themed folklore stories?

I think that very much depends on your personal definition. Of course there are plenty of folktales that do not include romance, but for me that usually isn't quite enough to consider them aromantic. For me the folk- and fairy tales that feel the most aromantic to me, are the ones where the plot makes me expect there will be a love interest along the way or a wedding at the end, but instead there is neither.

Here are the ones I've taken a personal liking to so far:

The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces

Source: Cape Verdian folktale, collected by E. Parsons from Antonio Soares Rosa in 1916-1917.

Content warnings: princess-shaming.

Character I read as aro: The hero.

Why: He answers a royal proclamation that states that whoever is able to find out how the princess wears out seven pairs of shoes every night can marry her and have half the kingdom. When he accomplishes this, however, he declines the marriage and returns home to build his mother a new house.

Read it: Full text online.

How The Devil Married Three Sisters

Source: Italian folktale, published by Widter and Wolf in 1866.

Content warnings: fairy tale violence, abusive spouse.

Character I read as aro: The youngest of the three sisters.

Why: While the first sister is pleased by her handsome suitor (the devil) and the second sister is also described as "wooed and won" by him, the third agrees to marriage only because he is rich. She proceeds to save her sisters, outsmarts the devil, and they all get away.

Read it: Full text online.

David Cotterson

Source: Danish fairy tale, collected by Jens Kamp, published in 1879.

Content warning: suicide contemplation, fairy tale violence.

Character I read as aro: The hero, David Cotterson.

Why: His biggest desire is to become a sailor and see the world. In his biggest adventure he defeats a seductive witch, saves a prince who has been cursed to be a dog. He then decided what he wants most of all is to got home to his loving parents, which he does.

Read it: Offline in this book, or my summary online.

The Squire’s Bride

Source: Norwegian folktale, collected by Asbjørnsen and Moe, published 1841-1844.

Content warning: attempted arranged marriage, attempted kidnapping.

Character I read as aro: The heroine, a farmers daughter.

Why: She's being courted by an old, rich squire. She rejects him, not for a better (kinder, younger) suitor, but simply because she doesn't want him. He doesn't back down so she humiliates him to teach him a lesson.

Read it: Full text online.

The Three Brothers

Source: German folktale, collected by the brothers Grimm, published 1857.

Content warning: ends with natural death.

Characters I read as aro: The protagonists, three brothers.

Why: Their father tasks them to learn a trade to show who deserves to inherit their family home. They become a master barber, blacksmith and swordsman, and the third inherits the house. But because they love each other so much they decide to share the house. They live happily and grow old together, after which all three die close together and are laid in the same grave.

Read it: Full text online.

Diarmaid and Grainne

Source: Celtic legend, Scottish variant collected by H. MacLean in 1859, from Alexander Macalister.

Content warning: tragedy, coercion, murder of protagonist.

Character I read as aro: The warrior Diarmaid.

Why: He has a love spot on his face, which he keeps hidden to prevent women from falling in love with him. Grainne (who is married to his lord Fionn) sees it and falls for him, but he refuses to go with her until she outsmarts him and places him under obligation to do so. He goes with her but they live in a house with separate beds. Grainne betrays Diarmaid for yet another man and Diarmaid ends up being killed by Fionn before he realises that Diarmaid has never touched his wife.

Read it: Full text online.

Slawa

Source: Romanian fairy tale, found in a German collection from 1977, sadly unsourced.

Content warning: attempted kidnapping, fairy tale violence.

Character I read as aro: The heroine, Slawa

Why: She is a poor young woman so beautiful that the cruel tsar wants to marry her. She keeps refusing and he gets violent, so she resorts to defeating him with magic (which she has because she was once a doll brought to life through the love of her parents), so she is free to go see the world.

Read it: You can download my translation here.

King Bear

Source: Danish folktale, collected by Jens Kamp, published in 1879.

Content warning: animal death.

Character I read as aro: One of the two protagonists, the eldest of two brothers.

Why: The older brother doesn't fully understand why his younger brother has fallen in love with an imprisoned princess, but helps him win her hand anyway. He stays happily at the royal court, but never marries himself.

Read it: Offline in this book.

And just because I still love them, I did write two literary fairy tales with aro protagonists myself some years ago:

The Man and the Mermaid, in which a man meets a mermaid after losing the woman he thought he wanted to marry.

The River Sprite, in which a woman helps a river sprite who is determined to repay her.

Hope there's something on this list that makes you happy!

[abyssal-ilk]

okay if ur still accepting viv headcanons... ik they make a thing out of her being like, The Evil Queen From Snow White, Maleficient Headdress, etc etc, BUT. but. Vivienne is also the name of the Lady of the Lake from Arthurian romance... and viv is a Knight Enchanter she wields a Magic Sword.... She is the Lady of the Lake to me. much in the vein of Morgan Le Fay, the Lady of the Lake was both held in great respect by the Arthurian Court but great fear -- she's a powerful woman so she must be inhuman but she holds the weapon of kings and SHE decides who it goes to. She is the being that kings and queens are afraid of but hold in awe. she's called a witch but she bears Excalibur so what will they do? they will fear her and they will whisper about her but she is a warrior sage and they will respect her or else. she is the Lady of the Lake to me.

firstly i wanna say that i am ALWAYS taking vivienne headcanons (and generally all headcanons about other characters too because im nosy and i wanna know what people think) but secondly??

lady of the lake vivienne,,, oh anon. oh your brain. i'll be thinking about this for the rest of the day omg. i need to make thoughts on this, anon you've opened something in my brain

[addledmongoose]

Good Omens Fanfic Friday (20 Sep 2024)

Because I finished my first draft of my latest (a Reverse Omens AU), and because two separate bangs are starting to come out this month, I have a really long list of (mostly short) stories to recommend this week. And if you like your GO fanfic smut-free, this is the list for you. Only one of these stories is rated E.

These first three aren't part of any bang.

Tadfield Zoo (40K; Rated E) by @groovynightstrawberry

Human AU. Crowley is the zoo's herpetologist. Aziraphale is the new vet. Crowley needs a plus one for his cousin's wedding, and Anathema has a great idea.

***

There’s no algorithm for the ineffable (12K; Rated T) by @thinkinginscripts

Human AU. A lovely, angst-free short with a lot of wonderful witty dialogue between the Ineffable Husbands.

Aziraphale Fell has been running Heavenly Matches, bespoke dating concierge for queer professionals looking for serious relationships, for over twenty years. His success rate is unsurpassed.

His new client, Mr Crowley, is just lovely - there are plenty of candidates interested in taking him to dinner. But after three dates with three perfect men, Crowley's not even sure what he wants anymore.

***

Flowers From Hell (42K; Rated T) by @entanglednow

I loved this story so much. Set post-notpocalypse, Aziraphale makes an effort to get more involved in Crowley's interests, especially his love of gardening. I don't want to spoil it, but I can say you will absolutely fall in love with Ivy.

***

These shorts are part of the GO Fairy Tale Minibang. There are a lot of stories in this collection, so be sure to check them out if you like fairy tales.

The Marriage of Robin Redbreast and the Wren (9K; Rated G) by @starryfull13

A Scottish tale about a wild red-breasted robin and a wren of the Royal court.

***

A Warrior in a Garden (9.8K; Rated T) by @snarky-synesthete

Set post-scene after Wessex, Aziraphale is a Knight of the Table Round when Crowley shows up to sow discord as Morgana la Fey. This story could have easily fit in the GO world like an extended Wessex minisode.

***

The True(ish) Tale of Hansel and Gretel (4K; Rated G)

Aziraphale arrives in a small town to find several of the village children missing and goes to find the witch responsible, only to stumble upon a lovely, ginger-haired demon he hasn't seen in a few years.

***

The Bounds of Gold (18K; Rated T) by @suavissimapenna

Human AU. Nice twist on the Rumplestilskin story.

All Aziraphale wants is to Illuminate a book commissioned by the royal family, but a gold shortage in the kingdom means he has to use a cursed spell book to spin straw into gold. All Crowley wants is to escape the curse that's bound him to the spell book for centuries. When the royal family finds out about Aziraphale’s new skill, things go to hell in a handbasket. A Rumplestilskin AU.

***

When The Lanterns Are Lit (5.7K; Rated G) by @the-ineffable-dance

Deep in The Wood, pixies Aziraphale and Crowley live a life of carefree delight. But when a doorway into Faerie appears, Aziraphale and Crowley have to work together to help two lost human boys admit the feelings they have for each other... and maybe recognize their own feelings along the way!

***

These stories are part of the Do It With Style Silver Screen bang. There are a lot more stories in the works, so be sure to check it out.

The Bookshop Around the Corner (18K; Rated G) by @luinlothana

It's You've Got Mail in the GO universe. This is NOT a human AU. It's the story of angel who doesn't want to sell books and a demon who is feeling a wee bit guilty about one of his plans coming to fruition.

***

The Crowley Family Values (11K; Rated T) by @ezomind-the-other-one

Human AU. As the name implies, this is a crossover fic with the Addams Family Values. If you don't know the other IP, you might struggle a bit simply because the dark humor can seem odd, but if you do know the Addams Family, you'll find the story fits perfectly with the style of humor.

[achaotichuman]

Here is the fifth chapter of my next generation ACOTAR fanfiction A Witch A Warrior And A Reckoning: ACT 1- The Witch (Link at bottom of the post)

Protagonists:

Dahlia Fairburn, General and Heir of Spring

Aisling Sapphirus, Healer of the Hewn City

Nyx Archeron, Son of the Witch

Relationships:

Dahlia Fairburn x Aisling Sapphirus

Nyx Archeron x Tamlin Fairburn

Azriel Shadowsinger x Eris Vanserra

Nuan x Lucien Vanserra

Original Azris Child(ren) x Tarquin

Summary

Life is peaceful for Dahlia Fairburn, running with her War Band, and commanding the Spring Court armies. Since the day she could wield a sword, she’s been helping her father, along with her younger brother, to restore Spring to its former glory. Trying to ignore the festering magic in her body, that threatens to consume her.

One day, all that peace is threatened to be shaken, as a certain prince of Night asks for her to join the rebellion of the Hewn City and Illyria. From beneath the great mountains, an ancient song calls for her. She meets a woman with death in her eyes, and power in her veins, who makes Dahlia’s blood boil while something clicks into place between them.

This new generation of Prythian was thought to be one of peace and prosperity. But the mask of the reigning High Lords begin to crumble, as secrets older than Prythian itself are uncovered, and darkness is unleashed.

An ACOTAR next generation fanfiction

Tags: Leave a comment or DM me if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list! <3

@sonics-atelier

@sadisticdevile

@shi-daisy

@skyesayshi

@praetorqueenreyna

@futurehunt

@unanswered-stars

@mathiwrites

@honeysuckle-daydreams13

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 1

Here's the new story! I hope y'all like it.

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way? Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

Next chapter

The New Year was upon them.  The castle was bustling with maids and squires decorating and scrambling to get everything ready in time. The halls were filled up with garlands, pinecones, dried oranges, berries, and candles lit every ten feet.  A large tree had been hauled into the great hall during Christmas Time and decorated with the same oranges, berries and pinecones, as well as ornamental pieces that shone through the branches in the candlelight.  The last seasonal ball was to be held in a few days time, and the noble families from all over the Isles had traveled in to be part of the festivities.

Princess Y/N watched the chaos in boredom as her little brother Prince Alfred, or Alfie,  ran around the room with a stream of ribbon in hand, singing holiday songs at the top of his lungs.  As much as she loved and adored him their age difference was definitely apparent during these moments.  “I watched three ships come sailing in on Christmas day on Christmas day…”

“Alfie if you sing that wretched song one more time I will–”

“You will do nothing,” her mother, Queen Eugenia interrupted as she walked into the great hall to inspect the decorations.  “After all these years of training, you still resort to violence, you ridiculous child.”

“And you still call me a child when I near my thirtieth year, Mother,” Y/N spat back.  “Perhaps my penchant for violence comes from my frustration with said training and the constant degradation of my age and ability.”

“Your petulance and independence has made you unmarriable and therefore a thorn in my side,” Eugenia sighed.  

“There have been no, as you and Father called them, “suitable” suitors to marry me off to, Mother.  And this,” she held out her hand, opening her palm, wherein a green orb of light appeared, “scares you both to death.”

“Put your hand away!” Eugenia ran over and slapped Y/N’s hand down before anyone could see.  “Stop being so careless!”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Yes, Mother.”

Eugenia sat next to her.  “You will attend tonight’s ball, dressed appropriately, with a smile on your ungrateful face and nothing but patient, polite mannerisms escaping that mouth of yours.  And you will not play tricks,” she looked pointedly at Y/N’s hands.

Y/N glared at her.  “Yes, Mother.”

Eugenia sighed again.  “Go get ready.”

Y/N left the great hall as Alfie continued singing away.  Her lady’s maid followed her as she roamed the halls towards her room.  The only ones who knew about her ability were her family, the royal advisory court and her lady’s maid.  No one had been able to figure out what to do with it.  She didn’t have a handle on it, either.  She could manipulate objects and people’s bodies to move how she wanted, heal minor injuries, and when touching someone she was able to see their thoughts and feel their feelings.  She could feel that there was something more to it, that her power had the potential to grow, and yet she and her ability had been tamped down so heavily from the moment she first started exhibiting it that she was unable to truly hone it and see what she was capable of.  The advisors had researched their history and fairy tale books extensively and could not find a rhyme or reason as to why she had this power.  The only reason she had not been burned at the stake as a witch was because her father thought it could be useful to him and his never ending battle against the Norsemen.

Y/N had only seen one Norseman in her entire life.  Her father had captured one after a horrible battle and brought him back from the battlefield.  He was what they called a Berserker, a Norseman warrior that would lose all sense of self-preservation and run into battle like a feral animal, like they were out of their minds and drunk with bloodlust.  Her father had put them in a room together, separated by a line of thin prison bars.  The Norseman didn’t try to attack her, just watched her intently.  Her father told her to try her powers on him, see what she could make him do.  Y/N had refused, so her father flogged her to try and make her submit.  The Norseman had become so incensed by her father’s mistreatment that he had broken through the bars, bending them like they were butter, and just as he was about to lay his hands on her father she threw her hands up.  The Norseman was encircled in the green light, stopping him midair.  Her father gave the first genuine smile towards her she had seen in years.  

The guards had shackled him and took him away shortly after that.  The look in his eyes as they dragged him away was one of shock and betrayal.  Y/N couldn’t stand it, and that night snuck through the castle to the dungeon.  She had found secret passages as a child that she used regularly, and slipped through undetected.  She stole the keys and found his cell.  He was awake, and when he heard the jingle of the keys he looked up at her.  His eyes widened and he scurried towards the farthest wall from her.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Y/N had whispered, holding her hands up.  He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and swung it open.  She had stepped away, giving him room to leave.  He had slowly walked out of the cell, watching her constantly.  He stepped away towards the nearest exiting door.  “Run,” she whispered as she backed away from him, keeping her hands up.

He stopped for a moment.  He cleared his throat and asked in perfect English, “Are you a witch?”

Y/N had blinked at him in surprise.  “I…I don’t know,” she answered honestly.  This man could kill her in a second without making a sound, and yet he merely nodded.  “Thank you, Drottning,” he bowed his head to her then ran off towards the door.

Y/N had never seen or heard from him again.  The castle had been abuzz with confusion and fear upon finding him missing the next morning, but they ultimately decided that the barbarian had his ways and wasn’t worth pursuing. 

Y/N had never trusted her father again after that day, and had steered clear of him whenever and however she could.  He only wanted her for her power and what it could do for him.  He didn’t love her, he didn’t love Alfie.  He was a true English King, hoarding power and wealth wherever he could.

Y/N dressed in her holiday best for the ball and begrudgingly entered the great hall later that night.  The party was in full swing, nobles dancing together as the music played, the King and Queen laughing madly at the jester performing in front of them.  The wine was flowing, making the crowd more rowdy by the second.  As Y/N ascended the stage where the King and Queen sat she saw two short legs poking out and found Alfie hiding behind the Queen’s wide throne chair.  She quickly walked over and pulled him into her arms.  “What are you doing here, Alfie?  It’s late, and this is no place for a young boy,” she scolded him.

“Papa said I had to be here, because I’m to be king, and this is what kings do,” he mumbled.  Y/N glared over at her father, who was drinking himself into a stupor.  Alfie was a mere 11 years old, and already her father was trying to sink his dirty claws into the little boy’s mind and heart.

“No, Alfie, this is not how kings should act,” Y/N reassured him as she ran her fingers through his hair.  “Let’s get you to bed.”

Suddenly there was a loud bang and a whistling as wind whipped through the hall from where the front doors burst open.  A thunderous roar from what seemed like hundreds of men swarming the hall filled the room, echoing through the high ceilings and making Alfie cover his ears.  Y/N held him close as she huddled behind the throne, concealing him and herself as best as possible.  There were shouts and screams from the nobles as the men started to cut many of them down, pushing and beating others as they made their way to the stage.

The King and Queen sat in shocked silence as they watched their guards and nobles die or be captured around them.  Y/N glanced around looking for an escape and saw men standing in the higher windows, pointing arrows at the royals.  She knew they were seen and so any attempt to run would be met with death.  

Heavy footsteps walked up the stage steps, and before she could even move large hands were hefting her and Alfie from behind the chair.  They ripped Alfie from her arms and she screamed, trying to get ahold of him again as he cried and tried to grab for her.  Y/N’s body was wrenched around and she came face to face with a familiar looking man.

“Hello, Drottning, remember me?” the Norseman from years earlier smiled at her.

“You!” Y/N breathed as her eyes widened.

The Norseman chuckled as he led her to the front of the stage to stand next to her Mother and Father who sat dumbfounded on their thrones, Alfie on the other side of them being held back by another man.  Y/N looked around and even through her fear was struck by the attractive nature of these men.  Most of them were spattered in blood and sweat from fighting, and yet she had never seen so many handsome men.  The yelling started to die down as one Norseman walked forward, assumedly the leader, the rest of them parting to let him through.  The one approaching her and her family was easily one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life.  His long, dark brown hair was half tied back with braids that had ornaments of beads and metal cuffs attached to them.  His full beard was cut neatly and framed his pink lips, which were stretched into a menacing smirk.  His blue eyes shone bright like the ocean just after a storm, and she could see the mischievous glint in them as he scanned the family.  He was covered in Norse battle gear from just under his jaw to his feet, a large sheathed sword on his right side and a war hammer at his left.  His left arm was bare, and upon further inspection Y/N realized it wasn’t flesh, but some kind of metal, yet it looked and functioned like a normal arm.  He was huge, like all the other men, tall and broad.  His eyes settled on her and he appraised her, giving her a long look up and down.  Y/N straightened herself under his stare, refusing to bow or show weakness to him.  His smirk deepened at her as he looked back at her parents.

“King Henry, Queen Eugenia,” he greeted them in a deep, booming voice.  “I am James Barnes, Jarl of the Danes, or Norsemen as you like to call us.”  He nonchalantly took a half eaten pastry off the table closest to him and popped it in his mouth, chewing it slowly.  “What a lovely party.  We missed our invitation,” he said with a sly smile, making his men laugh heartily around him.

Henry just couldn’t help himself as he stood up.  “You aren’t wanted, heathens!  Leave immediately!”

“Now now, Henry, is that any way to speak to the ones who have conquered you?” James admonished him.  “I’ve come to make peace, and you want to scream insults?”

Y/N silently gasped.  Peace?  With the Norsemen?  

“Make peace?  While you murder my nobles and threaten my family?  That’s preposterous,” Henry scoffed.  Y/N glared at her father, silently wishing for him to shut up.

“Well you could either choose peace, or watch the rest of your nobles and your family die, starting with your heir,” James threatened, glancing at Alfie.  Y/N squirmed against the Norseman behind her at the threat.  “And we’ll make some stops along the way to some of your most prosperous cities and take what we need.  The choice is yours.”

“That’s no choice!” Henry yelled and then started to move towards James.  “You wretched, barbaric–”

A whistle sounded through the hall as an arrow was loosed.  It flew straight towards Alfie’s chest.  Y/N’s hand yanked out of the Norseman’s hand that was holding her and stretched toward her brother as she screamed, “NO!”

The arrow stopped, hovering right in front of Alfie’s heart, surrounded by the green light.  The men gasped, James staring at Y/N with an awestruck smile on his face.  “So it’s true,” he whispered.  Y/N flicked her wrist and the arrow went flying towards the wall and shattered.  Before she could even drop her hand James was in front of her.  He looked at the Norseman holding her back and nodded to him.  “Thor, is this the English witch of royal blood who freed you?”

The man behind her nodded and lightly shoved her into his arms.  James held her by her arms and looked down at her.  “What’s your name, Princess?”

Y/N could only stare at his bright blue eyes, her heart hammering in her chest at exposing herself and her ability.  “Y/N,” she whispered.  

“Y/N,” he repeated it like it was a prayer.  “I’ve been talking to the wrong person.”  He pulled her forward to face her family.  “Henry, you’ve been hiding something,” he chuckled as he plopped his chin on her shoulder so they were cheek to cheek and ran his fingers up and down her arms, the metal ones sending chills up her spine.  “She’s the one with power, not you.”  Henry glared at her, a hateful look on his face.  “Oh, I see,” James’ voice became sharper.  “You feel threatened by her, so you’ve hid her away, stomped on her potential to grow,” Y/N was nearly shaking as she felt the adrenaline rush through her.  “She’s a goddess among you pathetic royals,” he kissed the side of her head, “and you wanted to reduce her to a torture device.  You let the magic go to waste.”  He turned her towards him again and dipped his face to be at eye level with her.  “We have magic at home.  We can help you learn and grow,” Y/N’s eyes widened at him.  “So I ask you, Princess Y/N.  What do you choose, death or peace?”

Y/N exhaled a shaky breath as she stared at him.  As he touched her she let her ability slip into his mind.  She could find no lie in his words.  He and his people were tired, the constant war depleting their resources and wiping out families.  They won the battles more often than lost, but it had put a strain on their lives.  His mention of magic seemed real, too, with glimpses and flashes of things that were unexplainable popping up in his mind.  Y/N thought about her people and how the English had been begging for peace for years as well, all of it falling on her father’s greedy, prideful ears.  She could tell James was good, and only wanted good for his men and his people.

“I propose an allyship,” she said.  James blinked and his eyebrows furrowed at her.  “A peace treaty with a tradition as old as time,” she clarified, gulping quickly.  “We join our families in marriage.”  His eyes flicked between hers, like he was studying her.  His men around him mumbled as they considered the idea.  “If you are unmarried,” she amended, since she wasn’t sure, “or if someone in your nobility is unmarried, I will come with you as a peace offering, a marriage tribute.  You will have me, and my power, and leave my family and my people be,” she said, trying to look and sound every bit the princess her mother had always wanted her to be.  “And we will end this war and finally bring peace to our people.”

James stood straight, towering over her.  He watched her for another moment, then stepped back and looked to his men behind him.  Two of them walked up and spoke to him quietly.  Y/N waited on baited breath as they consulted with each other.  They stood back and he turned toward her again.  “Done,” he said simply, the smirk returning to his lips.  Y/N nodded and quietly sighed.  “My Drottning,” he spoke lowly, holding out his metal hand.  She put her right hand into his metal hand, admiring it.  

“What does that mean?” she asked him.

“My Queen,” he winked at her.  Y/N blushed deeply.  He turned to his men and held her hand up high in his.  “We have peace!” he yelled triumphantly.  The thunderous roar returned as they cheered, their hands and swords and axes held high as they hugged each other and drank some of the wine left on the tables around them.  James dropped their joined hands and kissed the hand he held, making her blush again.  “Say goodbye to your family, Drottning, we leave immediately.”

He let her go and she ran up the stairs towards her family.  She ignored her parents altogether, grabbing Alfie and holding him tight against her.  

“Don’t go,” Alfie cried as his fingers clutched her dress.

“I have to,” Y/N cried as she carded her fingers through his hair.  “You listen to me,” she knelt in front of him and held his face in her hands, “you remember what I’ve taught you.”  He nodded frantically.  “Do not listen to Father,” he nodded again, making her father sneer at them next to her.  “I’ve seen it in you,” she whispered, laying a hand against his heart then tapping her finger to her head.  “You will become one of the greatest kings England has ever known, as long as you don’t do as Father has done.  You will bring continued peace and prosperity, you hear me?”  She wiped his tears away.  “Because you are a good boy, and will become a great man.  My little king,” she kissed his forehead firmly before pulling away.

Alfie cried harder as she stepped away from him.  She turned to her father.  “Stay away from him,” she warned him, glancing at Alfie.  “I have procured a peace that you, and your father, and your father’s father could never have dreamed of,” she sneered back at him.  “Do good by our people, for once in your miserable life.”  She glared at him before turning back towards James who stood patiently waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.  

His men were slowly retreating out of the great hall as he held his hand out for her again.  She took it as he flashed one last glance and triumphant smile at her father before leading her out the front doors.  As they walked through the courtyard and towards the horses waiting for them he glanced at her attire.

“Hm, this won’t do while riding,” he said as he twirled her around.  Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him.  “Where’s your lady’s maid?”

Y/N looked around and saw the telltale eyes peeking from behind the stables.  “May,” she pointed.

James summoned her forward out of hiding.  She quickly ran across the courtyard and into Y/N’s arms, sobbing as Y/N pet her hair.  “Miss May, go fetch your princess’ riding clothes and some simple dresses for travel,” James instructed her.  May stared at him with wide eyes, looking at Y/N who nodded to her.  She was escorted back inside with Thor to get Y/N’s things packed.

As they stood there waiting, the snow started to fall.  Y/N looked up and sighed as the cold kissed her face, a welcome reprieve to her inflamed cheeks from the night’s tension.  She looked towards James who was already looking at her.

“What do I call you?” she asked him.  

“You can call me Bucky,” he said.

“Bucky?” she asked, a small smirk pulling her lips.

“A nickname,” he laughed at her perplexed look.  “Saved for those closest to me.  And since you’ll be my queen–”

“So it is you I’ll be marrying then?”  Y/N asked.

“Yes,” Bucky laughed harder.  “I guess I didn’t make that very clear.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed.  “You have a very English name...James.”

“Yes,” he agreed, sighing as he looked at the falling snowflakes.  “We Norsemen and you Anglo-Saxons are not that different from each other,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he winked at her again.  

Y/N pondered that as May came out holding Y/N’s riding clothes and boots with Thor holding a small trunk that he loaded onto one of the wagons they had waiting.  May ran back to Y/N.

“Go change, and then we’ll be off,” Bucky excused Y/N, who led May over to the stables.  They went into an empty bay and May quickly stripped Y/N out of her gown and into her riding clothes.

“My lady,” May said as she held Y/N’s crown in her hands.  Y/N looked at it and gingerly took it from her.  She stared at it for a moment before giving it back to her.  She gave May another hug.  

“Take it, my love,” she said as May sobbed in her arms again.  “Run away and marry that stable boy, Ben, and use it to live long happy lives together,” she said as she pulled away.

May nodded as she cried, gathering up the gown as she said goodbye.

Y/N came back out in her riding clothes.  She approached Bucky who was preparing his horse.  He mounted it and held his hand out to her.  She took it and he helped hoist her behind him on the saddle.  He wrapped her hands around his waist then she felt him tying her wrists together.

“What–” she started, trying to look over his shoulder.

“So you don’t run off,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her in warning as he looked back at her.

“I won’t,” Y/N promised.

“That’s what they all say,” Bucky chuckled before he turned to his men who were all waiting.  “To Danmark!!”

“To Danmark!” they all yelled, and the pounding of hooves rang through the night as they all rode out of the courtyard and into the English countryside.

Y/N’s arms tightened around Bucky, her head tucking in between his shoulder blades as the winter wind stung her face.  She was not going to run and wanted to prove it to him.  She wanted peace, even if it meant giving up herself to get it. After about an hour they all started to slow as they reached the water’s edge where multiple ships were docked, secured by other Norsemen who waited anxiously for them.

Bucky untied the rope around her wrists then dismounted.  He held his hands up to her hips and helped her down as well.  He inspected her wrists, giving them a short rub.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to each wrist.  Y/N was surprised at his affection, but welcomed it in the moment.  He pulled her towards one of the boats.  He helped her step onto it and settled her into a corner of the stern that was covered in furs and quilts.  He pulled one of the furs up and covered her with it, securing it around her shoulders.  There was plenty of room around her as she got herself comfortable.

“It’s going to be a four day journey, Drottning,” Bucky kneeled in front of her.  “This area is for all of us to sleep, so you’ll have at least a few men next to you, but don’t fear,” he reassured her at the look on her face, “they’re harmless.  Just tired.”

Y/N looked around at the men loading themselves into the boat, many of them taking seats at the benches where the oars were sitting.  She felt worried but nodded at him.  He gave her a smile and stepped away to help load more things into the boats.  They all worked methodically together until in just a few minutes they were ready to pull off.  Bucky was stationed at one of the oars as well, giving the signal and they shoved off the shore.

Y/N watched the men in her boat and the others row in perfect unison.  She admired their strength and the way they all seemed to be of one mind as they worked together to get into a good rhythm, making the boat fly through the water.  The rhythmic rowing lulled her to sleep as she snuggled down into the furs below her.

She woke a few hours later.  It was still dark out, the rowing still going strong.  As she shifted to get more comfortable she felt a heavy weight around her waist.  She panicked until she turned and saw Bucky’s peaceful face sleeping next to her, his metal arm resting on her side.  Y/N looked down at the arm.  She admired its craftsmanship, unsure of how he was able to find or create such a thing.  Her fingers traced along the metal, the plates and divots carved like the muscles of a real arm would be.  When she reached his hand she lightly traced each finger with the tip of her pointer finger.  His hand suddenly moved to grasp her wrist.  She gasped as he gently maneuvered her to face him.  His eyes were still closed as he let go of her wrist then wound his metal arm around her back this time, holding her to his chest.  “Sleep, wife,” he mumbled, his voice coming out hoarsely as he kissed her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head.  

Y/N was stiff for a moment until the warmth enveloped her and she melted into his embrace.  She pressed her nose into his sternum and breathed deeply as her hands gripped the fur coat he was wearing.  He hummed as his breathing evened out and a soft snore rumbled in his chest.  It lulled her to sleep again, a small smile on her face.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

[prythianpages]

Dandelions | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch Reader | The moment in which you realize you're in love.

word count: 1,713

warnings: fluff, kissing

a/n: Surprise Surprise! This is my 1,000th post on this blog and I wanted to dedicate it to Green Witch reader <3 This can be read as a stand alone. I was on reddit when I saw a comment that reminded me of these two and I just had to write it out before I lost inspiration, even though it was midnight when I saw it.

Walking through the cobblestone streets of Velaris, your heart feels light and content, further lifted by the enchantment that seems to weave through every building and tree. The rain from the afternoon had left behind shimmering puddles and brought upon a misty evening. Warm and humid, the air was alive with the croak of contented toads and the delicate flutter of moths.

As a green witch, your connection to nature runs deep. You cherish all living things, from the majestic trees lining the streets to the smallest insects that flit about underfoot. Many might find them insignificant, even terrifying. But to you, they’re lovely.

Yet, among all the wonders of Velaris, it's the shadowsinger walking slightly ahead of you who captivates your heart the most. 

His dark hair, damp from the mist, clings to the back of his neck. It curls at the ends and you’re sure there’s a matching, distinctive curl of hair or two that falls down over his forehead that you would love to run your fingers through. His wings are tucked into him and though his back is turned toward you, you notice the slight tilt of his head downwards. 

You also can’t help but notice the way his shadows slither along the ground in front of you both. Almost as if they’re clearing a path for the both of you. You don’t think much of it, even though you’re usually the one walking slightly ahead. Azriel is always attentive to your surroundings.

Your lips curve into a tender smile as you continue to admire him from behind. The mating bond hums softly between you. You give a tug and it’s instant, the way your chest swells with warmth as he responds. He doesn’t turn around but you catch the subtle twitch of his right wing. Something you notice he does when flustered or blushing.

Though you both are now aware of the mating bond or at least now aware that you both are aware, you came to a mutual agreement to take things slow.  So Azriel courted you, determined to right the wrongs of his initial coldness. His efforts to show you his true self, the side he's always wanted you to see, have been nothing short of enchanting.

You always suspected there was more to Azriel than the stoic warrior facade he presented to you. And as the days turned into weeks, he revealed layers of his personality that left you breathless.

You discovered his love for reading, the way his eyes softened when he spoke about his favorite books. He took you to his favorite hidden spots in Velaris that he wanted to share only with you. 

One evening, he surprised you with a picnic by the Sidra River. Since you could not prepare him food due to the bond, he had taken it upon himself to prepare all your favorite foods. 

His gestures were not always grand, but they were always meaningful. Like the time he spent hours helping you gather rare herbs for your potions. Or the quiet evenings you spent in his arms, where words were unnecessary.  Yet, he never stayed the night, always leaving before it got too late.

“y/n?”

“Yes?” 

You hadn’t realized he’d been talking to you, too lost in your thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say again, seeing that you have reached your small townhome. Your apothecary is located right next door, the sign swaying slightly despite the lack of wind.

The fae lights hanging from your door’s overhang flicker on as the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the entrance. From the window, you spot a set of two glowing eyes watching you, bringing forth a smile. It’s your cat, Binx. He blinks at you in greeting.

Azriel draws your attention back to him as he carefully makes his way up the three steps that lead to your door. He offers you his hand, not wanting you to slip on the wet cobblestone. You take his hand, the warmth of his touch sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. His fingers intertwine with yours, strong yet gentle.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Azriel’s gaze locks onto yours, his hazel eyes warm with emotion. “I’d do anything for you,” he replies softly, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. There’s a vulnerability in his voice, a raw honesty that makes your heart ache. 

He steps closer and the space between you seems to hum with the energy of the bond you share. You find yourself giving in to the irresistible pull of that bond, wrapping your arms around his neck, and bringing his head down toward yours. Your lips meet in a tender kiss, a soft and delicate exchange but as the hands at your waist travel upwards, it morphs into something more heated. A kiss that speaks volumes about the growing connection between you two. 

His hands cradle your face, one moving to the back of your head as he gently pushes you against your door. It’s when your tongue traces along his bottom lip that he pulls away. “You should go inside before the rain comes down again,” he breathes but you catch the way his pupils flare as he gazes down at your swollen lips. Droplets begin to fall from the sky yet neither of you move.

“I should,” you reply, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you pull him back in for another kiss.

**

You linger by the window, fingers pressed against your lips, drawn to the sight of Azriel walking away in the gentle drizzle. It wasn’t your first kiss and certainly not the last. Each kiss only further fueled the desire between you both but you two had agreed to wait to be intimate with one another until you’re ready to accept the bond. Something that was becoming a struggle with every passing day.

As you watched Azriel go, you saw something that made your heart skip a beat. He was pausing every few steps, his fingers gently lifting what appeared to be small worms off the wet pavement and guiding them to safety in the lush greenery that bordered the streets. His shadows danced around his feet, helping him.

And then it hit you—why Azriel’s attention had been on the ground as he walked you home earlier, why his shadows had been forming a pathway. He was saving the worms from being stepped on. Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were slipping out your door and running toward him.

“Azriel!”

Azriel turns, his brows furrowing in concern as soon as he sees you. He raises one hand—the one that hadn’t been picking up the worms—to caress your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a rogue tear. “Why are you crying?” he asks, frowning.

“Because you’re so sweet and thoughtful and kind and I love you and—”

“You love me?” he interrupts softly, his right wing twitching as a blush creeps onto his cheeks.

“Yes, you. I love you and only you,” you repeat, voice trembling with the weight of your feelings.

And then he’s kissing you again, letting his lips convey those three words for him.

**

You glance over at Azriel, his focused expression making your heart swell with what you’re now certain is love. Every time he looks your way, his gaze softens and you feel like you’re about to burst.

His eyes had widened slightly when you had offered to help, not realizing he’d been caught. He had protested, claiming you’d only get sick if you stayed out in the rain with him. But you had ignored him, kneeling down on the damp ground.

So now you both were kneeling on the ground, the cool rain soaking through your clothes as you helped the small bugs to a safer path. Azriel’s shadows were eager to help as well, nudging worms and beetles your way. A bit too eager, as they sometimes sent the bugs skittering away toward the grass, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the playful chaos.

Just as you’re about to pick up another worm, a small movement catches your eye. A toad hops out from under a bush. Azriel startles but you grin, scooping it up into your hands. When he inches away from you, your eyes light up in mischief.

Before he knows it, you’re chasing him around, the toad held out in front of you. Azriel dodges and weaves, his laughter mingling with yours in the rain. His shadows seem to be on your side as one sneaky tendril crosses over his leg and he trips. You fall over him, the both of you collapsing in a heap on the wet grass. The toad hops out of your hold, much to Azriel’s relief. You’re both breathless and grinning.

"Do you still love me now?" You tease.

“More than anything,” he replies immediately, his wings stretching out under him to fold over you and shield you from the rain.

“Would you still love me if I were a toad?” You challenge.

Azriel laughs, his hazel eyes twinkling as he pulls you closer. Your head rests on his chest. “Even if you were a toad. I’d find a way to become one with you,” he says, the sincerity in his tone nearly bringing you to tears again, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

The rain grows heavier, and the two of you finally decide to seek shelter, running back into your home. When you ask him to stay the night, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes. After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes—Feyre had magically sent Azriel fresh garments at his request—the two of you nestle into the comforting warmth of your bed.

It’s not big enough to accommodate his wings. Something you're already working on replacing. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, it only gives him more reason to hold you closer.

Your back is flush against his chest, one of his strong arms draped protectively over your waist as you both watch the rain patter against the bedroom window. His chin rests gently atop your head and you close your eyes, feeling utterly safe and cherished. 

The bond between you sings with contentment, but it’s the love dwelling within that bond that makes your heart overflow with joy.

a/n: This takes place after the first imagine but before you accept the bond with a witchy ritual as mentioned in these HCs, which I may or may not write. In my mind, Azriel fell first but you fell harder. Not only is this the first time you say I love you but also the first time he stays the night.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming

[series masterlist]

[shadowriel]

ACOTAR Couples & Halloween Costumes: Headcanons 👻 🎃

Feysand: Feyre and Rhys definitely have a cute family costume planned with Nyx, but as soon as they leave him with a babysitter, they have to be the hottest couple in a 25-mile radius. Think Mr. & Mrs. Smith, think mafia AU, think Feyre in a slutty dress and Rhys unable to keep his hands off her

Nessian: Nesta and Cassian start planning their costumes at least a year in advance. No expense is spared, no detail is overlooked. Sure, they get into semi-heated arguments leading up to their favourite day of the year, but it’s well worth it. My vote goes to them being sexy pirates, or a gender bent Hades and Persephone.

Elucien: The thing about Elain Archeron is that she will always be that bitch, so well-dressed that people can’t help but stare. Lucien LOVES it! He’s also more than happy to take off his shirt at Elain’s request. A Greek god (or warrior) and goddess definitely works for their day court vibes (bonus points if Elain is Aphrodite).

Azris: Eris and Azriel famously refuse to put effort into Halloween. Azriel has been known to throw on cat ears. Eris has worn a mask or used fake blood on more than one occasion. Yet, somehow they end up surprising everyone by dressing up as a cop (Eris) and sexy criminal (Azriel). Yes, the handcuffs are fully functional. And, yes, Azriel wears a crop top.

Emorie: Our fave girlies have one goal on Halloween, and that’s to look ridiculously hot. Mor lives by the fact that “hoes don’t get cold” and usually makes a costume out of lingerie. Emerie’s been known to follow her lead or dress in something’s that more comfy. I think they would absolutely slay as an angel and demon.

Bonus addition: Emerie as a witch (and Mor can tag along as a black cat)

Gwynriel: These two always go with a costume that’s ridiculously niche or nerdy. Sometimes, Gwyn will get Azriel to dress up as her favourite male characters. Sometimes, she’ll wear a gorgeous costume on her own (and Azriel will just be there, looking at her with hearts in his eyes). Batman and catwoman is a fan favourite, but Gwyn loves the year she found her new favourite book and got them to dress up as a priestess and shadowsinger.

Elriel: Elain is hot (see above), and Azriel is more than happy to take a supporting role when it comes to couples costumes. Elain wants to wear a fancy dress? Azriel will offer to hold her purse. It’s an Elain Archeron world and Azriel is loving every second of just being in it. I feel like a flower and gardener costume would be cute couples costume for them.

Jassa: Jurian and Vassa are here to have fun. All of their costumes are easy-going and definitely bought last-minute, but they still look amazing. They’re known to find things around the house, and wear a costume that they insist is a pun. Some years, they remember they have these race car outfits at the back of their closet.

Gwynlain: Gwyn and Elain are for the Pinterest girlies. They always have the most gorgeous costumes, and their makeup is impeccably done. Dare I say, they’re the second hottest couple in a 25-mile radius. My brain is literally malfunctioning at the thought of them dressing up like Bloom and Flora from Winx Club.

I honestly could go on and on (and on…)

[All images were found on pinterest]