#and her feelings that he went to the northern territories
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The return to Rosalith had been, as always, a lively affair. The six days spent traveling back from the northern border of the duchy had been filled with the usual: worry and anxiety overshadowed with spirited conversation about family, and even more spirited singing of Rosaria's anthem, both intended to boost morale. Elwin was no exception to joining in -- in fact, most of the times it had been him initiating the exchanges.
On the hour that the young Archduke and the small contingent of Shields and soldiers passed through the gate into the heart of Rosaria, they were, as one would expect, exhausted. The greetings from the gathered townspeople were enthusiastic, but much like the men that had but recently arrived, there was a deep undercurrent of unease. Everyone knew the reason for their journey: the Blight had begun to slowly seep its way into their land, on top of rumors of stirrings from the inhabitants of the Northern Territories.
After dismounting from his chocobo, Elwin murmured a word of praise to his companion. And while the soldiers continued onward to the bailey, he remained for a few moments more, to greet -- and reassure -- the people.
"My friends," he spoke in a warm yet slightly more subdued tone, as was his wont in situations like this. "Come what may, rest in the knowledge that you are protected -- by our men and their unyielding courage, and by the great firebird's grace."
As they heaped him in words of gratitude and fondness, he waited a moment longer to answer inquiries and hear concerns, then politely excused himself to accompany Eleftherios to the royal stables. A report would need to be compiled, Rodney would need to be consulted both to hear how Rosalith had faired in his absence and to divulge to him the breadth of the situation, a meeting must needs be arranged with the council to discuss with the other High House representatives how to proceed(although he already knew their most likely suggestion)...
But all of this could wait until later, perhaps come the morrow. For now, while the soldiers congregated at the tavern to share stories and imbibe one too many drinks, Elwin wanted only to seek out the Archduchess's company -- then rest, time permitting.
The Archduchess was not there to welcome the returning troops. She never was. Alike she was never there to greet them good-bye. It was as much as the heritage the royal princess of the Sanbreque Empire had brought to her new home, but perhaps even more it was her silent disagreement with the decisions her husband was taking. In Nunnally’s mind, the place of the ruler, the place of the commander, was not among their people and soldiers. But somewhere far away (and safe) from the battle. It was the role of the royalty to rule and to plan and to scheme. To organize the campaigns and move the troops on the map, but never share the fate of the soldiers.
Discomfort, fatigue, hunger, thirst, toil and drudgery. That was not the destiny of a ruler. That was a fate of a soldier. Rulers and soldiers: they had different duties, and in her eyes the Archduke disregarded his duties by risking his life together with his soldiers. But Elwin never agreed with her on that. Her gentle (and firmer) requests (and demands) were always met with a refusal. So, in a way the Archduchess stopped trying. Her silent absence was the only sign of her ever lasting opposition.
It wasn’t that she wanted to hurt him. It was never her goal, but the royal princess of Anbreque was too proud (and too independent) to fully accept she had nothing to say in these decisions of his. So using the culture as an excuse she insisted on personal and very private farewells and welcomes. Their own tradition? Though it lasted for a long while already, the Archduchess was never sure how much her husband was able to see through her lies. She had embraced so many of Rosarian traditions that discarding one more would not make such a difference for her. But she couldn’t. This was politics for her. Did he know? Did he accept? Did he understand?
But the fact that she was not there, that she wasn’t a part of the event itself, it didn’t mean she didn’t watch. She always did. Always in the shadows of the castle’s gallery, dressed in a cloak so that it was even more difficult to recognize her, if someone ever cared to look her way. She watched. She was there long after he had left; her blue eyes fixed on a distant point on the horizon, where her husband's silhouette had disappeared; or rather where she had seen him for the last time. She had always dreaded that it would be for the very last time, but even that fear was not able to change her mind. Yes, Nunnally usually blamed herself that she was not there for him enough; she’d promised herself to make an attempt to do better next time, but even then - when she was crying her eyes out - she knew she’d act the same. Again and again. It was not something she was ready to let go.
She was watching as her husband spoke and how his words were cheered by the crowd and the soldiers. It made her proud and annoyed at the same time. Nunnally despised ruling through l o v e. Despised carrying for the people. She didn't see the royals as those who are responsible for the people’s well-being. It was the wealth of the land that mattered. The unbroken blood line. The standards they were to keep.
Something that her brother had all abandoned. Something that her husband never believed in.
Sylvestre and Elwin. Her brother and her husband. So similar and yet so completely different. She loved them both and yet she didn't agree with the actions any of them was taking. She felt tired and alone having to always challenge them.
When he excused himself to accompany Eleftherios to the royal stables, her brows furrowed more than she probably wanted to. She could understand his love for his chocobo, but yet his first steps should carry him to his wife and not his mount. No, she wasn’t jealous. It would just look more proper. But that wasn’t something she would ever mention to her husband. Some things just needed to be.
Nunnally excused herself from her place before Elwin finished talking. She expected he’d be with her soon. If things were dire (not that they weren’t in her mind) and required immediate attention, she would have known by now.
She welcomed the solitude of her chambers with some odd relief. Her maids and ladies-in-waiting were advised that Her Royal Highness did not wish their presence. Although none of them had ever dared to comment, they must have been aware of what was going between the Archduke and the Archduchess (when he was to leave and them come back). Nunnally wouldn’t deprive them of the pleasure to be in the crowd that welcomed her husband. He was loved. She wasn’t.
She needed these few moments alone to calm herself down, and to dismiss her annoyance and the urge to immediately discuss the state affairs with him. Nunnally wanted to offer Elwin some peace that she believed he needed (and deserved). There would be enough time to discuss the misunderstanding she was constantly having with Rodney on how to rule Rosaria when the Archduke was away (why did Rodney even think he could disagree with her!?). Enough time to convince Elwin that Rosaria would only be safe, when she was to claim and take the crown of the Sanbreque Empire. A thought that Dion could come before her made her shiver in silent fury! But her husband’s attention was more to the Northern Territories making her agenda even more difficult.
But when she heard oh-so-known footsteps on the cold stones outside the door of their chambers, all her dull thoughts suddenly disappeared. She was standing there full of hopes like on the first day when they were formally introduced to each other. Waiting for him as she did during their wedding night. The Archduchess didn’t know why suddenly so many doubts in her heart. She needed to be s t r o n g; she reminded herself.
The door opened and soon she found Elwin entering their chambers. No! Nunnally didn’t want to give him a chance to talk. To steer their meeting away from what she had envisioned for them. She turned around quickly making sure a soft smile adorned her lips: --
“Welcome home, Elwin…” – her quick steps and the sound of her heels clicking on the floor accompanied her words; he looked tired and worried; this thought passed her mind before Nunnally pressed herself onto his arm – “I…I was missing you…” – she was. Her small hand rose and caressed gently his her before she pressed her lips onto his for a quick, almost shy, kiss.
“I am sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you…” – Nunnally didn’t know why she apologized. She had never done so before even though she had welcomed him so many times before. But this time, she felt something was to happen. Those disturbing feelings she had been having for a while. Dreams... Nightmares... She scolded herself internally. She should shouldn’t behave so foolishly. So ridiculously. She was a woman, not a girl. No! She wasn’t even a woman; she was a ruler: an Archduchess of Rosaria. The royal princess of Sanbreque.
But she didn’t want to be these today. She wanted to be a girl welcoming her lover. A wife welcoming her husband. She wanted…
Nunnally forced herself to stop. To stop allowing herself to indulge in her hopes. She needed to think about Elwin and not about herself. She forced herself to talk (though she couldn’t force herself to move away from him; not to feel him so close to her): --
“You must be tired…”
“I made sure there is a bath prepared for you…or would you prefer to eat first?”
Or would you simply let me hide in your embrace? Or let yourself rest in mine?
You’re and Archduchess Nunnally. Archduchess… You need to remember…
But she didn’t want. Once in a while even she could forget…and be forgiven…?
@fire-branded
#elwin rosfield#nunnally#verse: nunnally lesage#fire branded#it got pretty long#but i couldn't stop writing#it was so fun to dwell on politics#and her feelings that he went to the northern territories#she hates that#but then she didn't allow me so simply finish like that#she wanted something more#and of course if you decide to continue it as a thread#(no pressure though; only if you feel like)#there's absolutely no need to match the lenght#as always anyway
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eighteen
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
Warnings: Nothing super specific, but things get pretty dark (at least in my opinion). Mentions of torture.
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
Azriel grabbed Rhys by the front of his jacket, hands shaking horribly despite all his efforts to stop. It had started this morning, when another disastrous attempt to talk to Andrian had left Azriel with his mind in shambles, knife pressed against his own throat. It had been going on for weeks now. Someway, somehow, Andrian would find a way to break through Azriel’s defenses and force him to relieve his worst memories. Sometimes he dreamt of his burning hands. Mostly he thought of you, and the day he’d nearly killed you.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Azriel growled desperately. “Tell me!”
It was too easy for him to pick out when his brother was speaking with Feyre, and something about the way Rhysand had been looking at him— like he was a fraction of a second away from splintering into a million pieces — told Azriel enough about who had been sent for. You were the only one who could calm him. The only one who could do what he and Rhys had failed to do.
Violet eyes shone from a perfectly handsome face. A face he knew too well. A face that he wanted to punch right now.
“I’m afraid I can’t, brother,” Rhysand responded gravely.
Azriel slammed his fist against the wall instead, taking out a chunk of granite that spit grey dust into the air. He swore beneath his breath, pacing the hallway and trying to steady his racing heart. He’d never wanted you to see this place. He’d never even wanted you to step foot on the island above, its rolling peaks a stark contrast to the tunnels below where Azriel conducted his business. Business that stained his hands a thousand shades of red.
“You’ve been working yourself ragged, Az, and Andrian still hasn’t said anything. Not to you. Not to me. We need to know all we can about Koschei. Vassa’s on the brink of madness. Henna’s dead. I can’t even get past Andrian’s mental wards. What the fuck are we meant to do?”
“So you thought to go behind my back and bring Y/n into this?! She’s not something for you to use, Rhys.”
“She’s already in this mess.” Rhys reminded him, as he often did. His eyes softened as he looked to the locked door at the end of the hall with its small, rectangular window. Bars breaking up the lamplight glowing from within. “And you know she’d agree this is the best course of action. She’ll be able to do it.”
Azriel’s hands shook. “Give me another week and I’ll get us the information we need. Tell Feyre to turn around. Don’t bring Y/n here.” Don’t let her see this part of me.
“The boy doesn’t have another week. He doesn’t even have a day.”
The shaking traveled throughout Azriel’s entire body. His eyes darkened and he began the process of hiding his heart away within the void that curled inside of him. That wicked beast that was always on the verge of swallowing him whole.
Feyre winnowed you both to the outskirts of the northern territories and you went from sweating in your fur-lined leathers to shivering in the knee deep snow. The Illyrian Mountains rose behind you like predatorial rows of shark teeth and the endless sea stretched in front, slate grey and empty except for lonely ripples of sea foam. Through the frosty haze you could make out a smattering of islands, each with their own tooth-like tips capped with snow and ice. Feyre looked at you, her eyes leaning more towards blue now that she’d tapped into the Winter Court’s power to stave off the cold.
The Warren was protected by wards that made winnowing impossible, so you let Feyre scoop you up in her powerful arms, wings growing from her back like unfurling shadows before the ground dropped away from her feet and she took off into the sky.
You clung to her shoulders, eyes slamming shut so you wouldn’t have to look down at the churning black waters and the rocks they crashed against. If you were to fall now, you could only hope you drown before the waves ripped your body to pieces against the rocks like meat torn between a pair of canines.
You stayed frozen and tight as a coil until the rush of wind stopped and you no longer felt your stomach creeping up into your throat. You could have dropped to your knees and kissed the ground if you weren’t sure your lips would freeze there. You did shove your hands into the gritty sand though, breathing slowly through your nose until you finally had the strength to stand.
Feyre led you down the long stretch of beach, waves whistling in the wind — a haunting, beautiful melody, like a woman crying.
Azriel had discovered The Warren centuries ago. After a particularly brutal brawl that had left him with a broken arm and cracked ribs, he’d taken to the skies, desperate to escape the hard packed floors and burning scent of sex mixed with alcohol that seemed to invade every corner of the Windhaven barracks. He’d been fighting over a woman, a woman that had been dragged into the rowdy common room trembling with the telltale sign of a whisky haze over her burnt umber eyes, dress ripped and muddy.
Did it even matter that he’d brought her back untouched to that leaning house with its wooden slabs frosted over and the chimney coughing up black smoke like a diseased lung? Azriel had wondered as he flew without a destination in mind. And when he’d finally collapsed on the island, frozen ground beneath his hands and knees and spitting out blood from his cut up gums, his shadows had tugged him towards the gaping mouth of The Warren, urging him to explore a darkness that was his and his alone. It had been his escape. A safe place in the world that had so few. But when Rhysand became High Lord and he the Spymaster, Azriel hadn’t hesitated to give up The Warren in the service of the Night Court, adding it to the long list of sacrifices he made so that he might actually start to feel like he deserved his place with his family.
You stilled in front of The Warren’s entrance, black walls glittering and damp from sea spray. Jagged, cracked bone rocks hovered overhead like axes ready to fall, jutting out of a cliffside and curling over the beach in the shape of a hunched back or an unhinged jaw. Wind whistled from within like asthma — high-pitched and keening.
“This is where you keep all your prisoners.” You weren’t asking a question, merely stating a fact.
Feyre had had little time for explanations back at the House. She’d focused on defending your body against the frigid cold to come, her mind split between you and Rhysand as he worried over Azriel from miles away.
“Not all of them. Only the ones Azriel finds useful.”
“The ones he plans to torture for information.”
From somewhere deep within the earth you swore you heard the clanging of chains, a growl, and a desperate groan that had the hair on your neck rising.
Feyre’s usual warmth was gone, replaced by something with more tact and less care. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart, Y/n. And neither is Azriel. He’s tried to hide this from you, but it’s as much a part of him as anything else and if you care for him as much as I believe you do, you’re going to need to get used to this.”
There was the faintest flicker of doubt in your heart. “Andrian… he’s just a boy… you haven’t—Az hasn’t—”
“No,” Feyre said quickly. Horrified. “Azriel found him weeks ago trying to slip back into Day Court. We brought him here because it’s the most heavily warded place in Prythian and because the world needs to be protected from him as much as he needs to be protected from the world.” She grabbed your hands. They felt cold as ice. “Y/n. I swear to you, we haven’t hurt that boy. We won’t hurt him.”
“I know. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Already you felt sick to your stomach just for asking. Azriel was many things — dangerous, cruel to those he felt were deserving of it, maybe even murderous at times — but he was still Az… and you weren’t afraid. Not even as you let Feyre lead you into The Warren, and you were swallowed whole.
The mouth of the cave quickly narrowed into a tunnel before turning at a severe angle and twisting like a corkscrew downward. If it weren’t for you and Feyre’s glowing bodies, you might have missed one of The Warren’s slick steps and tumbled down forever.
You passed by two offshoots, each branching out into their own secret tunnels that whispered and echoed and smelled faintly of blood. Coppery and sour.
One of the rooms you walked through smelled like metal and limestone. The rust-colored ground and drain in the center of the floor told you all you needed to know about its purpose and before you could stop yourself, before you could even think about whether this was truly a good idea, you found yourself pressing a hand against one of the chains hanging from the ceiling.
If Feyre was right and this was truly a part of Azriel — something horrible that needed to come with all of the good that he was — then you wanted to know. You felt that you had some right to know, and if it was the power the Mother had granted you, then you would use it when you saw fit.
Feyre froze when your power flooded the room without warning, feeling the energy and fury radiating off your skin without even turning to look at you. You kept the memories a safe distance away, but drank in the knowledge of every horrible hand that had hung from that ceiling like you were reading a list of names from a book. You read their crimes. You read every drop of blood that Azriel had spilled on the ground.
“Y/n?” Feyre asked tentatively, fearfully, when you blinked and released the chain.
She had every hope the bond would snap in place for you soon and that you’d help end Azriel’s centuries of loneliness. That you might be the one to finally show him he was deserving of kindness. But to love Azriel as he was, with all his rough edges and the pain he could inflict as much as he carried… it was not for the faint of heart.
“I understand why Azriel wanted to hide this place from me. This part of him,” you said quietly and to no one in particular. Not even to Feyre. “But he shouldn’t have.” Your eyes turned harder than stone. “They deserved it. Each and every one of them.”
Feyre stood, shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until you gripped her arm and nudged her into the next room that she found she was able to walk again.
You passed by more hallways and more rooms, some disturbingly clean and empty, others with chains hanging from the ceiling or littered on the floor. But the strangest part was, you could smell Azriel within these cramped walls, and that alone made you quicken your steps.
You chased that familiar scent, walking confidently through the dark and passing Feyre until you were spit out in a long, neat tunnel with one metal door at the end. Tendrils of shadow flickered from around the corner.
“Azriel?”
Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw him leaning against the wall, hands folded behind his back. Rhys’s eyes flickered to you, then to his mate as she followed closely behind. Azriel stiffened, his eyes locked and heavy. Shadows tugged at his eyes and accentuated the sharpness of his cheeks. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he left you… which wasn’t so far from the truth. Because the whole time he’d been here, he’d been thinking of you, and the ways you might hate him for what he did and the sick corners of his soul. For—
You sailed into his arms, wrapping yourself around his torso and pressing your face into the hollow of his neck. Part of your mind chastised you, calling you silly and desperate as it reminded you it had only been ten days since you’d last seen him. But you didn’t care. It felt far longer than that. Too long.
You needed this almost as much as he did.
You disappeared behind his wings, cocooned safely in membranous folds and shadows that kissed your skin. Azriel himself buried his face in your hair, feeling some of his worst worries dissipate. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t been so disgusted as to leave just yet.
“Y/n,” he murmured your name before kissing your temple. “Gods, I missed you.”
“I would hope so.” You murmured into the curve of his jaw, “I might be a boring bookworm but I’m better company than this place.”
Azriel winced. “You have no idea.”
You missed the pointed look that Rhys and Feyre threw your way, but Azriel didn’t. He was tall enough to see over your head as Feyre pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, eyes glistening. They had come here for a purpose, and the sooner it was over with, the sooner they could all go home.
Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to see the things I do.”
“I know.” You traced the curve of his jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “But I’m not afraid, Azriel.”
His eyes flickered from fear to relief to love, like one of those picture books you had to flip through to see the scene play out.
“You’re not?”
You shook your head no. Then you kissed him on the lips and whispered the words for him and him alone. “I trust you. You’re the most terrifying thing here anyway, and you’re mine.”
Yours.
Azriel quitel liked the sound of that.
Even here in the dungeons burrowed beneath empty frozen lands, Azriel found it within him to hope. Horrid creatures might be hidden elsewhere, creeping like slugs under the earth that he’d have to crush beneath his boot or tear treasured secrets from, but for now you were still by his side. For now you were still his and he would always be yours.
You looped your arm through his and moved towards that door at the end of the hallway, steeling yourself for what you already knew was behind it.
The light from the barred window flashed warm and cool then warm again. Light warped and pranced. The scent of rot hung in the air, humid and choking. You touched the door handle, feeling the magic fall away like it recognized you and opened up into a makeshift, but quaint bedroom. There were no windows here for there was nothing to see below ground, but some of Feyre’s landscape paintings hung on the wall. Faelights bloomed overhead, throwing light and heat on a child’s bed with green sheets, a table, and a bookcase overflowing with an assortment of puzzles and novels and toys. You felt your blood turn cold. They’d once belonged to Nyx before being repurposed for the little boy trembling on the floor.
You stared at him in horror.
The little boy who’d been so violently bright that morning in the marketplace was dull. Although he was wearing fresh clothes, his skin had turned a stone gray, black marks dotting his once silken, silver skin like a disease. He was aware of his condition, weeping on the plush rug cut in the shape of a flower as he batted at his arms, willing them to turn healthy again.
“No no no no no no,” he sobbed. He grabbed at his pillowy hair in frustration and tugged. A cloud of fragile strands came away and he cried harder, trying to stick them back to his scalp.
Rhysand’s face was broken and pale. He tried not to look at Andrian. He was too young. Reminded him too much of his own son.
“You were right.” Rhysand’s voice was hollow, laced with a pain that grabbed your throat and squeezed. “Koschei did kill him. He’s been dead this whole time.”
“NO!” Andrian screamed. “HE DIDN’T! HE PROTECTED ME!”
Fat tears rolled out of filmy eyes, dusty and brown as pond water. Rage filled him with new energy and he tried to attack your mind as he’d already done with Azriel. But there was something altogether different about your magic, something flexible that morphed and rearranged your mental walls until it felt like he was trying to attack himself.
He gave up when your walls didn’t fall, and chose the physical route instead. You recoiled as he took a swipe, bony arms reaching out in an awkward lunge. But his legs were too weak and crumpled beneath him. He looked like a fish laid out to rot on a summer day — bloated and slick.
“Koschei brought him back to life for his powers—”
“HE LOVES ME! PAPA LOVES ME!”
“To use as he saw fit when the time was right.”
“But he can’t survive being separated for so long from Koschei’s power, can he?”
Just like Vassa. Left on their own without their maker they couldn’t handle the curses that had been placed on them. They’d bend until they broke… unless they found another way…
“The killings,” You murmured as the pieces slowly fell into place, “He killed those Librarians and the tailor and the florist…” You didn’t want to be right about this. You prayed to the Mother that you were wrong.
But Azriel read the thoughts in your eyes and nodded. Feyre could only stand still and Rhysand couldn’t do more than speak out in that dead voice of his.
Andrian had killed those fae, not just to send a message, but because that was the price for going against nature, for being brought back from the dead. Power demanded balance. To stay alive, Andrian had needed others to take his place. Those Librarians and the Velarians hadn’t been murdered. They’d been sacrificed.
What Koschei had done to this boy — what he’d turned him into — made you want to crawl into a dark corner and stay there forever.
Andrian’s sobs died out. A crack of lightning followed by unnerving silence that had Azriel’s blood freezing in his veins. Andrian wasn’t much older than he’d been when he’d first been tossed into that dark cellar. When his brothers had set his hands aflame.
“He loves me,” he declared, as if saying it would make it true. He stayed curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He stayed when Henna left me. He wasn’t afraid of me like the others. He took care of me.”
But Koschei hadn’t taken care of him. He’d taught Andrian to love him. To worship him, because that’s what he craved above all else. He’d helped the boy control his powers and had allowed him to live so he could send him off to die when it was most convenient. You’d thought Henna was Koschei’s perfect soldier, but you were wrong. Andrian was. He’d been broken and molded into something that should never have existed. He’d been sent to Prythian after his sister’s death to take her place. A boy who would have no choice but to return to the lake or die trying.
And he was dying. You could see it clear as day. Two teeth clinked onto the floor and Andrian’s hands flew up to his mouth. He whimpered, eyes locking on you like you might be able to fix this.
You wanted to beg Rhys and Feyre to do something, to fix him, but it was a useless endeavor. They wouldn’t have brought you here if they could just reach into Andrian’s mind and end it all peacefully. Andrian was too powerful for that. But you could use another way.
You approached him like a wild, injured animal, grimacing when he tried to run at you only for his ankle to twist and then snap. He fell to the floor in a pathetic sprawl.
“Hey there, little feather.”
Andrian paused at that familiar nickname, watery eyes looking up. You said it just like Henna had once upon a time. The same inflection in a differently pitched voice. His lips trembled.
“She left me.”
You shook your head before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He smelled of death. It clung to his linen shirt and trousers. It clung to the few strands of hair still woven into his scalp, skin so thin you could make out his skull.
“She didn’t leave you, Andrian.” You poured your voice out over him, as soothing as you could make it, forcing the tears down. “She thought you’d died and that you’d stayed dead. She had a little ceremony for you out near the willow tree and buried your favorite toy beneath it with a handful of water lilies. Do you remember it? The little wooden doll you dressed up like a soldier with the red cap and the silver shoes?”
He clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head while his weak neck teetered dangerously atop his shoulders.
“Andrian—” You pulled his hands away and in a bold, dangerous move brought them to your temple and slowly lowered your mental wards. You didn’t give him free reign, but rather guided him through snippets of memories you’d taken from Henna before her death. They all revolved around him. Before, and even after Koschei had poisoned their minds, Andrian had remained her true priority.
The boy’s eyes flashed from anger to confusion then, finally, to despair.
“She didn’t leave you.”
Andrian waited a few moments that had your heart seizing, then rushed into your arms, tightening them like a vice around your shoulders and burying his face in your hair. You held your breath, but tightened your grip. You weren’t his sister, but you were the closest thing he had.
Slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass, you felt his arms weaken and fall from your shoulders. He stared at you, wide and terrified as his hand snapped off at the wrist and fell to your side in a grey heap.
“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”
You smoothed back his hair, shoving down the tears that threatened to fall. His eyes were white now and unseeing. “It’s ok, little feather. It’s ok.”
“I don’t—” Even his voice was crumbling apart. Raspy and broken like cracked glass. He had little time left. The fight in him gone. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to that dark place. Please don’t make me go.”
Azriel had been watching the entire time, trying not to picture the little boy with dark hair, weak wings, and bandaged hands. He went so, so still.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” You promised. You forced your trembling lips into a smile.
He took in a rasping breath. “Will you go with me this time, Henna? Please.”
You gritted your teeth, brows furrowed in an effort to stay here instead of turning and sprinting back to the surface.
“I will. That’s why I came” You brushed his hair away from his forehead, saying nothing when the wispy white strands were torn away from his scalp like silk… just like the memories of Koschei’s lake you plucked from his mind without him knowing. You swallowed the pain of what you knew was coming. “I won’t let you be alone.”
He went quiet after that. Maybe his voice had deteriorated beyond saving, maybe he finally felt at peace. All you knew is that you needed to keep brushing his hair and holding onto his hand when he laid down and placed his head in your lap. He was like a little windup doll that had run out of string. He kept breathing until he finally stopped.
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Author's Note:
So... this was a rather sad one, bit of a tonal shift if you ask me, but I wanted to wrap up the stuff with Henna and Andrian before we continue on to other things.
BUT, you have to appreciate when Y/n walks into what's effectively a torture chamber and goes "yeah, nope, still in love with Azriel." It's just one of those things that gets brushed under the rug but like... this guy's WHOLE JOB is inflicting pain upon people.... and you know what, it's a fantasy book, so who the hell cares. We stan Y/n being supportive of Azriel's career lol
#the shadowsinger and the inkbird#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader slowburn#azriel shadowsinger
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Rivalry To Romance
Katie McCabe x Reader
Word count: 13.4k
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Katie McCabe had always prided herself on her loyalty to her team and her country. Playing for the Republic of Ireland wasn’t just a position—it was an identity. That’s why, when Arsenal announced their newest signing, Katie’s stomach churned with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Y/N Y/L/N from Northern Ireland. Her fiercest rival.
The rumors were true; Y/N had signed with Arsenal, her club, her territory. Katie couldn't shake the memory of their last match, where Y/N's last-minute tackle had nearly cost Ireland the game. She could still remember the cold glares they exchanged, the heated words they spat across the pitch, and the way Y/N stood unfazed by Katie’s ire.
“Hey, Katie, look who’s here!” Leah called, snapping Katie out of her thoughts as Y/N entered the locker room, glancing around the space as if she owned it.
Katie clenched her fists. Here they go.
“McCabe,” Y/N greeted, her voice cool as she acknowledged her.
“Y/L/N,” Katie replied, voice icy.
From that first meeting, it was like the air between them carried an electric charge. Training drills became intense battles; Katie would push Y/N off the ball, and Y/N would retaliate with a perfectly-timed tackle. The team was torn between amusement and exasperation, watching the two rivals go head-to-head every day.
Arsenal’s training grounds hummed with the usual energy, players jogging onto the pitch and taking their positions. The team was warming up, but Katie could feel the static tension creeping up her spine. It wasn’t just the usual excitement of a new training session. It was the unmistakable edge she felt every time Y/N was nearby.
Katie glanced to her right, where Y/N was adjusting her shin guards. She caught Y/N’s eye and rolled her shoulders back, flashing a smirk she knew would rile her up.
“Ready for a proper session, Y/L/N?” Katie said with a challenging grin. “Or are you only fierce when it’s Northern Ireland on your shirt?”
Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Trust me, McCabe. I don’t need a green shirt to beat you.”
Their teammates watched as the two squared up, a mix of amusement and anticipation rippling through the group. This rivalry had become daily entertainment.
Coach Jonas clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s go—small-sided games. Five-a-side!” He started dividing players, and by some stroke of either luck or irony, Katie and Y/N ended up on opposing teams.
It was a fierce game from the start. Katie and Y/N seemed to gravitate toward each other, each of them upping the intensity with every pass, every tackle. Katie saw an opening, her teammate Leah ready to receive the ball, but the second she passed, Y/N was there, intercepting the play and charging up the field.
Katie chased her down, getting close enough to snap, “Keep dreaming if you think you’re gonna get past me.”
Y/N didn’t break stride. “Watch me.”
Katie lunged in, aiming to win back possession, but Y/N anticipated it and deftly sidestepped, sending Katie stumbling as Y/N dribbled past. Laughter broke out from the sidelines, and Katie’s face flushed as Y/N shot her a triumphant smirk.
Katie felt a flash of anger surge through her veins. She caught up to Y/N, deliberately closing in too fast, and clipped her ankle just as she went to take a shot. Y/N stumbled, barely staying on her feet, and whipped around to glare at Katie.
“Seriously?” Y/N snapped, her voice sharp. “What’s your problem, McCabe?”
Katie put her hands on her hips, unbothered by the accusation. “My problem? Maybe it’s that you can’t keep up, but you’re always running your mouth.”
Y/N stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Keep up? I’m leaving you in the dust every time, and you can’t handle it.”
Katie rolled her eyes, putting her face inches from Y/N’s. “Please, you only look good out there because I’m going easy on you.”
“Oh, that’s hilarious,” Y/N shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Keep telling yourself that, Katie.”
The tension had hit a breaking point. They were nose-to-nose, both breathing heavily, eyes locked in a fierce standoff.
Before either could say anything more, Leah stepped between them, her tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Alright, alright, break it up, you two. You’re both as stubborn as bricks.” She looked between them, raising an eyebrow. “If you spent half this energy playing together instead of against each other, we’d be unstoppable.”
Katie huffed, but took a step back, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s.
Y/N finally let out a slow breath, her gaze just as intense. “Fine,” she muttered, brushing past Katie as she moved back into position. “Just try to keep up.”
But as they returned to the game, something had shifted. Every pass, every movement, had an extra layer of intensity, neither willing to back down. For better or worse, training with Y/N had become Katie’s new battle, and she was all in.
Training was in full swing under a blazing sun. The team had split into small groups for a scrimmage, and as usual, Katie and Y/N had found themselves on opposing sides. It was a familiar, tense setup, but today felt different. The energy between them was sharper, like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap.
The game had barely begun when Y/N received the ball in the midfield. She pivoted, sidestepping an opponent, her eyes scanning the field for an opening. Katie saw her chance and surged forward, narrowing in on Y/N like a missile.
Y/N barely had time to react before Katie came in, sliding in with a tackle that was nowhere near clean. Her cleats clipped Y/N’s knee, sending her sprawling to the ground. The sound of the impact echoed, and a few teammates gasped as Y/N hit the turf, hard.
Katie pushed herself to her feet, but before she could turn away, Y/N was already up, her face twisted in fury.
“Are you kidding me, McCabe?” Y/N barked, shoving her back.
Katie staggered a step but quickly steadied herself, her jaw clenched. “What? Can’t handle a little tackle?” she shot back, voice dripping with mock innocence. “Maybe you’re not cut out for the game.”
Y/N’s fists clenched at her sides. “A little tackle? You practically tried to break my leg!”
Katie stepped closer, her voice low and menacing. “Maybe if you were quicker, I wouldn’t have to.”
That was it. Y/N’s hand flew out, giving Katie another hard shove, this time with more force. Katie’s expression shifted, anger flashing in her eyes as she recovered and shoved her right back. It was harder, enough to make Y/N take a few steps back, but she recovered just as fast.
Without thinking, Y/N surged forward, and suddenly, they were chest-to-chest, faces inches apart, breathing heavily as anger radiated between them.
“Say that again,” Y/N hissed, her eyes blazing. “I dare you.”
Katie leaned in, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. “You heard me. Maybe it’s time someone knocked you down a peg, Y/L/N.”
Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You’re so full of yourself, McCabe. Just because you’re Ireland’s pride doesn’t mean everyone else is beneath you.”
Katie’s jaw tightened, her expression turning icy. “And just because you wear a badge doesn’t mean you belong here. You’re not Arsenal material.”
That hit a nerve, and Y/N’s patience finally snapped. She grabbed the front of Katie’s training shirt, pulling her closer, but Katie was just as quick, gripping Y/N’s wrist and holding it in a tight lock. The tension between them was palpable, both locked in a furious standoff.
Their teammates were watching in shocked silence, unsure of whether to intervene or let them sort it out.
“Katie, Y/N, that’s enough!” Leah shouted, stepping forward, but neither moved.
Katie’s grip tightened on Y/N’s wrist, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with fury. “You think you can come in here, walk all over everyone, and just fit right in? I’ve been here for years. I’ve bled for this team. You haven’t earned it.”
Y/N yanked her hand free and shoved Katie again, harder this time, and Katie stumbled backward, but she quickly regained her footing, fists clenched. Before she could respond, Beth and Leah stepped in, each grabbing one of the girls to separate them.
“Alright, that’s enough!” Leah said, her voice firm. “You two are acting like children.”
Katie glared over Leah’s shoulder, still breathing heavily. “Tell that to her.”
“Oh, please, Katie!” Y/N spat back, struggling against Beth’s hold. “At least I don’t go around acting like I own the place.”
Beth rolled her eyes, trying to keep Y/N steady. “Look, if you two want to kill each other, do it off the pitch. Right now, we’re a team.”
Katie huffed, finally breaking her gaze from Y/N, though her face was still flushed with anger. “Fine,” she muttered, wrenching herself free from Leah’s grip. She stormed off a few paces, but couldn’t resist one last glare back in Y/N’s direction.
Y/N shook her head, shrugging off Beth’s hold. “Whatever. Just keep her out of my way,” she muttered before turning to walk back to her spot on the pitch.
As the two resumed their positions, their teammates exchanged uneasy glances, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t over. The fire between them had only been stoked, and it was only a matter of time before it flared up again.
Preseason camp had only just begun, and the Arsenal players were still settling into their assigned rooms. Spirits were high as teammates unpacked, talking excitedly about the upcoming season and all the memories they’d make on this trip.
But down the hall, the atmosphere was anything but cheerful.
Katie McCabe stood frozen outside her assigned room, staring at the name on the door next to hers in disbelief. She rubbed her eyes, double-checking. There was no mistaking it.
“Room 14A: Katie McCabe and Y/N Y/L/N”
A frustrated groan escaped her lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
At that very moment, Y/N rounded the corner, stopping in her tracks as soon as she saw Katie standing there. Her eyes fell on the door, and she blanched, reading her worst nightmare confirmed in bold letters.
“No way. This has to be a mistake,” Y/N muttered, her voice dripping with irritation.
“Believe me, I couldn’t agree more,” Katie snapped. “Who thought it was a good idea to put us in the same room?”
Y/N clenched her jaw. “Just great. The one person on this team I can’t stand, and I’m supposed to live with her for the next two weeks?”
Katie crossed her arms, shooting Y/N an icy glare. “Don’t worry; I won’t be throwing you any welcome parties either.”
The two stood in tense silence until Leah walked by, catching their expressions.
“What’s up with you two?” she asked, looking between them with an amused smile.
“What’s up? What’s up?” Katie fumed, hands gesturing wildly. “I’m roomed with her, that’s what’s up!”
Y/N threw her hands up in exasperation. “Oh, don’t act like this is a dream come true for me either, Katie.”
Leah stifled a laugh. “I don’t know; maybe you two will actually learn to get along if you’re forced to spend some time together.”
Katie scoffed, but Leah was already walking away, ignoring her protests.
“Learn to get along?” Katie muttered, turning to Y/N. “She’s delusional.”
Y/N didn’t waste a second to turn away, muttering as she marched toward her teammates who were gathered down the hall. As soon as she reached them, she put on her most pleading expression. “Please, someone switch with me,” she begged. “I’ll take anyone—even Beth, and she snores like a lawnmower.”
Beth raised her eyebrows in mock offense. “Hey, don’t drag me into this! Besides, I think it’s poetic justice.” She exchanged a glance with Leah, both grinning as they enjoyed the unfolding drama.
“You all think this is hilarious, don’t you?” Y/N groaned.
“Absolutely,” Leah replied, not even trying to hide her laughter.
Meanwhile, Katie was ranting to her own little group on the other end of the hall.
“It’s like the universe is punishing me. I finally make it through all the preseason drills, and now this?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “All she does is talk back, glare, and then act like I’m the problem!”
Jen leaned against the wall, clearly amused. “You’re the one talking about her nonstop, Katie. Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”
Katie shot her a glare. “I do not ‘have it bad.’ I have it terribly.”
Down the hall, Y/N continued her complaints to Beth and Caitlin, who were listening with barely hidden amusement. “I’m telling you, I’ll be lucky if we don’t end up killing each other by the end of the week,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “She’s got this whole ‘I’m too good for everyone’ thing going on, like she’s the queen of Arsenal.”
Beth shrugged, clearly unfazed by Y/N’s complaints. “She’s been here a long time. She probably thinks you’re here to take her spot.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “As if I care about taking her spot.”
“Maybe,” Caitlin interjected, smirking. “But she thinks you do.”
Just as Y/N was about to retort, Coach Jonas walked by and caught a few words of their conversation. He paused, taking in the glares Katie and Y/N were shooting each other across the hallway.
“Alright, alright,” Jonas said, clapping his hands. “If I’m hearing complaints from both sides, then maybe this arrangement is exactly what you two need. Who knows? You might actually learn something from each other.”
Katie opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a knowing look. “No room swaps. Consider it a preseason exercise in…team bonding.”
He walked away, leaving Katie and Y/N fuming in the middle of the hall.
Once he was out of sight, Katie threw her hands up, clearly frustrated. “Fine. But stay out of my way, Y/L/N. We’re on opposite schedules. I’ll shower at night; you take the morning.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Great. Fine by me. I’d rather not have to look at you first thing in the morning.”
Katie shot her one last glare before grabbing her bags and shoving her way into the room. Y/N followed suit, dragging her things in and slamming the door behind her.
And so, the rivals were roomed together, forced to share a space and to tolerate each other’s presence. But if one thing was clear, it was that neither would make this easy on the other.
Preseason training was already intense enough, but it quickly became clear that the real entertainment of the camp was Katie and Y/N’s constant bickering. It didn’t matter if they were running drills, passing the ball, or even just grabbing lunch—Katie and Y/N managed to turn every moment into an opportunity to one-up each other.
And their teammates were absolutely here for it.
The day started with a light warm-up, but the tension between Katie and Y/N was thick as ever. They were supposed to be practicing passing drills together, but within minutes, the shouting began.
“You call that a pass?” Katie sneered, catching the ball and immediately firing it back with unnecessary force. “I’ve seen toddlers with better control!”
Y/N scoffed as she trapped the ball. “If you’d stop kicking it like it’s a cannonball, maybe I wouldn’t have to adjust every time.”
Caitlin and Beth watched from the sidelines, exchanging amused glances.
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Caitlin whispered, nudging Beth. “Ten quid says Y/N snaps first.”
Beth grinned. “I don’t know. Katie’s got that fiery look in her eyes today. I’d bet on her.”
Meanwhile, across the field, the argument had only escalated. Y/N rolled her eyes at Katie. “Maybe try aiming, McCabe. I’m not out here trying to dodge bullets.”
Katie shrugged with a smirk. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have signed up to play with the big leagues, princess.”
That was all Y/N needed. She fired the ball back at Katie’s feet with a little too much force, and it nearly tripped Katie, who barely managed to regain her footing. A few of the other players tried (and failed) to stifle their laughter.
Alessia, standing nearby with her hands on her knees, was practically in tears. “How long do you think they’re going to keep this up?”
Leah, leaning against the goalpost, chuckled. “With those two? At least another hour. Maybe all season.”
By lunchtime, Katie and Y/N had managed to argue about nearly every topic imaginable. As they filed into the dining hall, Y/N immediately rolled her eyes when she saw Katie heading for the same table.
“Oh, fantastic,” Y/N muttered. “There are about ten other tables here, but sure, sit right here.”
Katie plopped down across from her, eyes glinting mischievously. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Can’t handle sharing a table either?”
Y/N shot her a glare, stabbing her salad with extra vigor. “It’s just bad for digestion, you know? All this hostility.”
Katie laughed. “Maybe that’s your excuse for that horrible passing earlier.”
Caitlin nudged Leah as they sat nearby, enjoying their front-row seat to the show. “I swear, they’re like an old married couple,” she whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.
Leah smirked. “Right? Just imagine if they actually liked each other. They’d be unstoppable.”
Across the table, the two rivals continued their snarky back-and-forth.
“You’ve got dressing all over your face,” Katie said, smirking as she pointed to Y/N’s cheek. “Or is that just part of the look?”
Y/N wiped her cheek with a napkin, scowling. “At least I don’t inhale my food like a barbarian.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Barbarian? Just because I don’t nibble on my food like a rabbit doesn’t mean I’m a barbarian.”
Beth let out a loud snort, drawing both Katie’s and Y/N’s glares.
“Sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “It’s just…this is the best free entertainment I’ve had in ages.”
The others at the table nodded in agreement, smirking as Katie and Y/N exchanged another round of withering looks.
As they all finished lunch and moved on to free time, the team decided to cool off by the pool. But even there, Katie and Y/N couldn’t seem to stay out of each other’s way.
As Y/N was leaning down to grab her water bottle by the poolside, Katie “accidentally” bumped into her, causing Y/N to stumble forward, nearly losing her balance.
Y/N whipped around, eyes narrowed. “Oh, that was subtle. Are you five?”
Katie shrugged, feigning innocence. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. You’re just kind of…in the way.”
Leah, lounging on a sunbed nearby, turned to Alessia with a grin. “You think if we lock them in a room, they’ll either end up being best friends or kill each other?”
Alessia laughed. “I’d bet on the killing.”
That night, back in their shared room, Katie and Y/N’s bickering reached new heights.
“I can’t believe I have to share a bathroom with you,” Y/N complained, huffing as she watched Katie brush her teeth.
Katie raised an eyebrow, not bothering to pause her brushing. “Believe me, I’m not thrilled either. You leave your stuff everywhere!”
“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back. “The only thing I’ve left out is a toothbrush, while you’ve somehow managed to scatter your entire life all over the place.”
Katie spit into the sink, wiping her mouth with a towel. “You’re dramatic, Y/L/N. Maybe if you could manage a little…organization?”
“Oh, now you’re giving me life advice?” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “The last thing I need is tips from you.”
Beth, eavesdropping through the thin walls, laughed softly, turning to Leah in the room next door. “They’re still going at it.”
Leah shook her head, chuckling. “At this point, maybe we should let them keep fighting. I think it’s the most energy they’ve had all camp.”
Katie trudged back to her shared room with Y/N after an exhausting day of training. All she wanted was a hot shower and the blissful silence of some music in her headphones. But as she reached the door, Katie slowed down, hearing Y/N’s voice muffled through the wood.
It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to take phone calls; most of them seemed heated, muttered complaints or irritated sighs that Katie had learned to tune out. But this time, something was different. Y/N’s voice was low and…trembling?
Katie hesitated, hand on the doorknob. She could have walked away or given her roommate some space, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Look, I get it, okay?” Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, and Katie leaned closer, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. “You… you don’t have to make excuses. If you’re done, just say it.”
A thick silence hung in the air as Y/N listened to the voice on the other end, her breathing shaky.
“Right. Yeah, it’s probably for the best.” A forced laugh. “I mean, I’ll still see you around, yeah? At least we don’t have to make a scene about it.”
Katie felt a pang of guilt for listening in, but she couldn’t seem to tear herself away from the door. She heard the faint sound of a sigh, one that held both resignation and defeat.
“I just… I thought maybe this time it would work,” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess I was wrong. Again.”
Another silence.
“No, don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, though her voice wavered. “It’s just… I mean, you could’ve told me sooner, you know? Instead of letting me hold on thinking…”
Katie’s brow furrowed, a strange ache forming in her chest as she listened to Y/N’s words. Y/N, the stubborn and fierce player she clashed with daily, sounded so small, so fragile.
“Right. Well… good luck with everything,” Y/N said, her tone hardening. “Goodbye, then.”
There was a soft click, and Katie heard Y/N let out a shaky breath, followed by the muffled sound of her trying to hold back tears. Katie swallowed, suddenly feeling like an intruder in her own room. But before she could figure out what to do, the door swung open, and there stood Y/N, her eyes red and rimmed with tears.
Katie froze, her usual witty remark caught in her throat as she registered the devastated look on Y/N’s face.
Y/N’s expression turned to one of horror and anger in equal measure. “Were you… listening?”
Katie opened her mouth to deny it, but no excuse came to mind. “I… I didn’t mean to, I just…” She stopped, realizing that anything she said would sound weak.
“Just what, Katie?” Y/N’s voice was tight with anger, but her red-rimmed eyes betrayed the vulnerability behind her words. “Eavesdropping for fun now?”
Katie’s defenses kicked in, feeling suddenly cornered by Y/N’s hurt. “Look, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, okay? I came back to the room and… I just heard you talking. I’m not some heartless creep.”
Y/N laughed bitterly, brushing past her and tossing her phone onto her bed. “Well, if you’re done with the free show, you can leave now.”
Katie hesitated, watching as Y/N crossed her arms and looked away, trying to hide the way her lip trembled.
“Y/N…” Katie said softly, but Y/N cut her off.
“Don’t,” Y/N snapped. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anything from you.”
Katie took a breath, swallowing the instinct to fight back. She remembered the conversation she’d overheard—the pain in Y/N’s voice, the vulnerable words that had cracked her usually unbreakable armor.
“Look,” Katie said, softening her tone. “I didn’t mean to intrude. And I’m… I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have someone walk out on you.”
Y/N scoffed, clearly unimpressed, though the hurt was still evident on her face. “Oh, great, Katie McCabe is getting all sentimental now. Just what I needed.”
Katie clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. “You think I wanted to see this? That I wanted to hear it?”
Y/N glared, but her expression softened just a fraction, enough that Katie noticed. She took a hesitant step forward, her voice gentle.
“For what it’s worth, it sounds like you deserved a lot better than whoever that was,” Katie said.
Y/N’s shoulders dropped slightly, her eyes darting away. “It doesn’t matter now,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “She… she didn’t want this.”
Katie studied her for a moment, feeling a strange pull to offer something—anything—to take away the hurt in Y/N’s eyes.
“You know…” Katie began, shoving her hands in her pockets, “you don’t have to pretend you’re fine. Not with me.”
Y/N let out a humorless laugh, blinking quickly. “Right. Because we’re best friends now, is that it?”
Katie shrugged, feeling a tinge of awkwardness but pushing past it. “Maybe not best friends. But we’re teammates. And even if we don’t always see eye to eye… I wouldn’t want you to go through this alone.”
Y/N didn’t respond immediately, just stared at her with an unreadable expression. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice softer than before.
“Well… thanks, I guess,” Y/N mumbled, still avoiding Katie’s gaze. “But I’m fine. Really.”
Katie bit back a sigh, nodding as she made her way to her side of the room. She didn’t say anything else, sensing that Y/N wasn’t ready for any more sympathy. But as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, Katie couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just seen a side of Y/N that no one else had.
And as much as she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling just a little bit protective.
It started with the water bottle.
Katie noticed it one morning at training. Y/N had been running late, clearly flustered and fumbling through her bag for her water bottle, only to come up empty-handed.
Katie had shrugged, grabbing her spare bottle and sliding it onto the bench beside Y/N’s stuff, just within reach. Y/N, too busy running drills, hadn’t even noticed when she came back for a quick drink, grabbing the bottle and taking a long gulp before heading back onto the field.
Katie rolled her eyes, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. Some gratitude.
But she couldn’t help herself. Over the next few days, Katie found herself picking up little habits to look out for Y/N, in ways so subtle even she didn’t notice at first.
It was as simple as setting a towel aside when Y/N forgot to bring one for cooldown. Or holding the door an extra second when she saw Y/N coming down the hall, still pulling her hair into a bun. Or making sure to hang back at dinner, subtly positioning herself between Y/N and some of the louder teammates whenever Y/N looked especially worn out.
The more Katie did it, the more she expected Y/N to notice. And each time Y/N passed her without so much as a glance, Katie felt a small sting of frustration.
One afternoon after practice, Y/N was struggling with the zipper on her duffel bag. It had been giving her trouble for days, and she kept muttering about needing to get it fixed.
Katie watched, casually leaning against the wall, as Y/N huffed and tried to yank the zipper free. It gave a metallic whine, refusing to budge.
Katie sighed, strolling over without a word. She knelt down and fiddled with the zipper for a moment, pressing her thumb just right to ease the snag. With a tug, it slid smoothly back into place.
“Oh,” Y/N said, glancing down at her now-functional zipper, then back up at Katie. “Thanks, I—” But she cut herself off, barely waiting for a nod from Katie before scooping up her bag and heading for the showers.
Katie watched her go, feeling a mix of annoyance and something strangely warmer, despite herself. Typical.
The next day, during scrimmage, Katie spotted Y/N wincing after a hard tackle. She wasn’t limping enough to stop, but Katie could tell her ankle was bothering her. Katie bit her lip, feeling her usual urge to call Y/N out on pushing through pain. Instead, she jogged over, staying close enough to offer support without being too obvious.
When they got a break, she made a detour to the medical kit, grabbing some extra ice packs and placing them discreetly on Y/N’s spot on the bench.
When Y/N finished her reps and slumped onto the bench, she picked up the ice packs and simply placed them over her ankle, not once questioning where they’d come from.
Katie shook her head with a chuckle. “Anytime,” she muttered to herself.
Later that week, during a team meeting, Katie noticed Y/N stifling a yawn and blinking rapidly, clearly struggling to keep her focus. She could tell Y/N had been staying up later than usual, maybe trying to brush off whatever was bothering her from the breakup.
The trainer’s voice droned on, and Katie waited until Y/N was busy with her notepad before she nudged her coffee closer to Y/N’s side of the table. Y/N glanced down, grabbed the mug absentmindedly, and took a long sip.
Katie waited for a glimmer of acknowledgment—a nod, maybe even a “thanks.” But Y/N just sipped the coffee and jotted down notes, her eyes still fixed on the front of the room.
Katie felt a small surge of irritation but forced herself to push it aside. Why am I even bothering?
Yet, despite her frustration, she found herself continuing with these tiny gestures. An extra granola bar left on Y/N’s seat before team meetings, an occasional shoulder check to steady her if she stumbled during drills, even switching spots with her in line to help her avoid the players she didn’t mesh well with.
Finally, after nearly two weeks of subtle attempts, Katie had reached her breaking point.
During one particularly long cooldown session, Katie found herself stretching next to Y/N. Y/N didn’t seem to notice her there, too focused on a knot in her calf muscle. Katie watched as she grimaced, clearly not getting anywhere with it.
Without thinking, Katie moved closer, reaching out to massage the muscle. “You know,” she said, her voice holding an edge of exasperation, “you could at least say ‘thank you’ once in a while.”
Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing. “What?”
Katie huffed. “You seriously haven’t noticed, have you?”
“Noticed what?” Y/N said, genuinely perplexed.
Katie shook her head, half-amused, half-irritated. “The water bottle? The extra ice packs? The coffee that you practically inhaled every team meeting?”
Y/N blinked, realization dawning slowly. Her mouth opened slightly, like she was about to say something, but then closed again. Her gaze dropped, and for the first time, she looked… apologetic.
“Oh,” she finally muttered, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. “I… didn’t know.”
Katie rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Of course you didn’t.”
Y/N laughed, a small, awkward sound. “Well… thanks. I mean, you didn’t have to do any of that.”
Katie shrugged, masking the warmth that flickered in her chest. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”
Y/N smirked, her usual attitude returning. “Oh, is that what you’re doing? Babysitting me?”
“Just think of it as… charity work,” Katie shot back with a grin.
They both laughed, the tension between them dissipating, at least for the moment. And though Katie tried to play it cool, she couldn’t help feeling that maybe—just maybe—Y/N was starting to see her in a new light.
Katie hadn’t planned to tell anyone. But that afternoon, as she sat in the lounge with Beth, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. The Arsenal squad was in rare form, laughter echoing around the room as they wound down after another tough practice, and Y/N, as always, had been at the center of Katie’s attention.
Beth nudged her, eyes gleaming mischievously. “You’ve been staring at her all week, Katie. What’s going on?”
Katie hesitated, glancing around the room. Most of the team was busy in their own conversations, so she leaned in closer to Beth, muttering, “Okay, fine. But you cannot tell anyone. I… might like her.”
Beth’s eyes widened, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Oh. My. God.”
Katie shushed her quickly, cheeks blazing. “Quiet! I mean it, Beth. I didn’t even want to tell you, but… it’s just been eating me up. She doesn’t even notice half the things I do for her, and I can’t figure out if she hates me or if she’s just clueless.”
Beth stifled a laugh, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Katie, that’s huge! Why haven’t you told her?”
Katie sighed, shrugging. “I don’t even know if she likes me back. I mean, she barely notices anything I do—she probably thinks I’m just being a decent teammate.”
Beth shook her head. “Katie, you’re doing all these things for her! Trust me, she has to have noticed something by now.”
Katie smiled, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up. This is between you and me, got it?”
Beth nodded, miming zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed.”
But Beth’s “sealed lips” didn’t last very long.
Only a few minutes later, Beth noticed Leah, Viv, and several other teammates standing around the table. The temptation was too much for her, and before she could stop herself, she burst out, “Katie just told me she likes Y/N!”
The room fell into a stunned silence.
Katie’s eyes went wide, her face flushing a bright red. “Beth! Are you serious?” she practically hissed, mortified.
But it was too late. Leah’s face lit up with a teasing grin, Viv stifled a laugh, and soon enough, the entire room erupted with whispers and giggles.
Katie felt her heart pounding. She couldn’t bear to stay there a second longer. Without a word, she stood up, gave Beth an incredulous glare, and marched out of the room, ignoring the amused looks from her teammates.
Katie headed outside, needing air. She leaned against the wall, letting the cool breeze calm her as she took deep breaths, trying to settle her nerves. How could Beth just blurt it out like that? she fumed internally, running a hand over her face.
She didn’t expect anyone to follow her, let alone Y/N.
“Katie?”
Katie froze, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to see Y/N standing a few steps away, her expression a mix of confusion and… something else Katie couldn’t quite read.
Y/N stepped closer, her voice soft. “Did… did Beth mean what she said in there?”
Katie took a breath, her heart racing as she nodded. “Yeah. She wasn’t supposed to say anything, though. I didn’t even know if you’d feel the same way, and now the entire team knows, so if this is weird for you—”
Y/N cut her off with a quiet laugh. “Katie, it’s not weird. Actually… I’ve been wanting to tell you something too.”
Katie’s eyes widened, her heart pounding as Y/N closed the gap between them.
“I didn’t realize it at first,” Y/N began, looking down, cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “But over these past few weeks… you’ve been doing all these little things. Looking out for me in ways no one else does, even when I’m too dense to see it. And I guess… I’ve kind of been waiting for you to say something.” She paused, biting her lip nervously. “I like you too, Katie.”
Katie blinked, almost unable to believe her ears. “You… you do?”
Y/N nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, I do. Even though we were at each other’s throats when I first joined, I think I just tried to deny what I was feeling. But… the way you’ve looked out for me, Katie, it’s hard not to feel something.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air between them. Then, Katie finally let out a small, relieved laugh. “I was terrified you’d laugh in my face.”
Y/N grinned, taking a small step closer until they were just inches apart. “Oh, I’m laughing, just not in the way you thought.”
With that, Y/N reached for Katie’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Katie felt her heart leap, the warmth of Y/N’s hand grounding her, making all the embarrassment from earlier disappear.
Inside, the team was still chattering excitedly, clearly wondering what was going on. But as Katie looked into Y/N’s eyes, she found she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was right here in front of her.
Y/N squeezed her hand, giving her a playful smirk. “Now, what do you say we head back in there and let them have their fun?”
Katie laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, but if they start planning our wedding, I’m holding you accountable.”
Y/N grinned, tugging her hand gently as they turned to head back inside, this time together, ready to face the team—and whatever teasing awaited them—with their newfound feelings finally out in the open.
Katie and Y/N paused just outside the team lounge, exchanging sly looks. The buzz of conversation inside was unmistakable; their teammates were clearly still talking about Beth’s big reveal.
Katie raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you say we make them sweat a bit?”
Y/N smirked. “I’m in. Let’s give them a little show.”
With that, the two of them arranged their faces into tense expressions, putting on their best fake scowls before stepping back into the room.
As soon as they entered, the chatter quieted, and all eyes turned to them. Katie glanced at Y/N with an exaggerated look of disdain.
“You know what, Y/N? I don’t know why I even bothered!” Katie said loudly, throwing her hands up. “Trying to be nice, trying to get along… I’m done with it.”
Y/N crossed her arms, glaring right back. “Oh, you’re done? Trust me, Katie, I’m the one who’s done. You don’t make anything easy, do you?”
Their teammates exchanged wide-eyed looks, glancing at each other nervously. Leah, who had been watching with an expectant grin just moments before, now looked on in alarm.
“Uh… guys?” Beth said hesitantly, guilt creeping into her voice. “This wasn’t… I didn’t mean for you two to—”
Katie cut her off, waving a hand. “You know what, Beth? Maybe next time, don’t go blabbing about things that aren’t your business.”
Beth’s mouth dropped open, her face a mix of shock and regret. Leah stepped forward, trying to smooth things over. “Hey, maybe we can all just, uh, talk this out?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Katie and I don’t need to talk it out, Leah. Maybe everyone just needs to mind their own business.”
Viv and Alessia looked around nervously, while Beth buried her face in her hands, clearly mortified.
Katie shot Y/N a quick, barely perceptible wink. “You know what, Y/N? I’d say you’re insufferable, but I think that’s what I’m starting to—”
“Love about you,” Y/N finished, barely able to keep a straight face as she leaned toward Katie with a smirk.
The whole team froze, blinking in confusion as they processed what they’d just heard. It took only a beat before Y/N and Katie broke into laughter, dropping their ‘argument’ and looking around at their stunned teammates.
Katie grinned, finally breaking character. “Honestly, the lot of you are terrible at keeping secrets. Who does Beth blurt my business to the second she hears it?”
Beth’s face went from horror to relief as she realized they’d been messing with her. “Oh, come on! I just—well, it’s your fault, Katie! You’re the one who’s been acting all lovesick and obvious.”
Leah crossed her arms, trying to look stern but failing to hide her grin. “So, all this fighting was just to get back at us for meddling?”
Y/N shrugged, trying to keep a straight face as she raised an eyebrow. “What can we say? This is what happens when people get nosy.”
Alessia let out a dramatic sigh of relief, clutching her chest. “Honestly, I thought you were about to rip each other’s heads off. That was terrifying!”
Viv laughed, shaking her head. “Katie, you and Y/N put on quite the performance.”
Katie chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Glad you all enjoyed the show. But seriously, maybe next time let me handle my own feelings, yeah?”
Y/N joined her, their hands brushing together subtly as she added, “Yeah. We don’t need the whole squad poking around in our business.”
Beth raised her hands in surrender, laughing. “Alright, fine, we’ll leave you two alone… for now. But I make no promises if you keep acting so obvious!”
Katie smirked, glancing sideways at Y/N. “Well, then, it looks like we’ll have to give you even more to talk about, won’t we?”
The team groaned, but the laughter filled the room once more, and Katie and Y/N couldn’t help but share a quiet smile. Their secret was out, but they couldn’t have cared less. They had each other’s backs—and they’d gotten a good laugh at everyone’s expense in the process.
It had only been a few months since Katie and Y/N had made things official, but to the rest of the Arsenal squad, it felt like they'd been together forever. The two of them were always bickering over the most trivial things, and yet, anyone could see they were absolutely smitten.
This morning, their “married couple” energy was on full display.
As the team gathered for breakfast at the training camp, Katie spotted Y/N piling her plate with pancakes and shook her head in disbelief.
“Seriously, Y/N?” Katie huffed, grabbing the last banana from the fruit bowl. “Do you ever think of eating something healthy?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, sprinkling powdered sugar on her stack with a flourish. “Relax, Katie, it’s not like I’m eating this every day.” She took a big bite and chewed dramatically, as if daring Katie to say something else.
Katie squinted at her. “You say that, but I’ve seen you at every team breakfast loading up on pancakes like they’re going out of style.”
Y/N shrugged, unbothered. “I need my fuel to keep up with you, don’t I?”
Beth, sitting across from them, tried to hide a laugh behind her coffee cup. Leah, on her right, leaned over, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Are we sure they’re not already married?”
Katie shot Leah a mock glare. “Oh, don’t start, Williamson. You should be grateful I’m trying to keep her in check!”
Y/N scoffed, reaching over to grab a bit of fruit from Katie’s plate. “I think we both know you’re more high-maintenance than me, Katie.”
Katie smacked her hand away, giving her a playful glare. “Get your own fruit!”
Viv, sipping her tea nearby, raised an eyebrow. “This is seriously like watching my parents fight,” she said, shaking her head with an amused smile.
Katie and Y/N both shot her glares, in perfect sync. “Excuse me?” they said in unison, which only made the team laugh even harder.
Rolling her eyes, Katie sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. Go ahead, eat all the pancakes. But don’t come crying to me when you’re too sluggish to keep up in training.”
Y/N put her hand over her heart, feigning offense. “I would never blame you for my poor training performance, darling.” She winked, causing Katie to flush just a little as the team watched with knowing grins.
Beth nudged Leah, barely able to contain her laughter. “This is top-tier entertainment.”
After breakfast, the team gathered for a light warm-up, and Y/N, still high on carbs and a little bit of mischief, kept tripping Katie up by tapping her ankles or nudging her playfully whenever Katie wasn’t looking.
“Will you stop it?” Katie snapped, swatting Y/N’s hand away for the third time. “You’re like a child.”
“Oh, come on, you love it.” Y/N smirked, running ahead to avoid Katie’s inevitable comeback. Katie shook her head, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
Later, during a water break, Y/N handed Katie her water bottle, and Katie took it, squinting at her suspiciously. “Why are you being nice all of a sudden?”
Y/N shrugged innocently. “Can’t a girl do something nice for her girlfriend without being accused of having ulterior motives?”
Katie narrowed her eyes, then reluctantly took a sip. “Fine. Thanks, I guess.”
Just as she was about to take another drink, Y/N added, “By the way, I might have accidentally taken a sip out of that earlier.”
Katie’s eyes widened, looking at the bottle with mock horror. “Oh, you’re disgusting.”
Y/N gave her a cheeky grin. “You’re just figuring this out now?”
They continued their playful back-and-forth as the training session wound down, and their teammates could only shake their heads, thoroughly entertained. By now, it was a given: if Y/N and Katie were in the room, a bit of banter was sure to follow.
As they walked back to the locker room, Katie nudged Y/N, speaking just loud enough for only her to hear. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”
Y/N grinned, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, trust me, I know. And I love you too, even when you steal all the bananas.”
Katie scoffed but leaned into her, their usual bickering temporarily replaced by a comfortable silence.
From behind them, Leah whispered to Viv, “I swear, they’re like an old married couple.”
And for once, neither Y/N nor Katie could argue with that.
The Arsenal squad had been dropping hints all week, not-so-subtly trying to convince either Katie or Y/N to take their relationship to the next level. With every passing day, the nudges and winks became more obvious.
During a team meeting, Leah leaned over to Y/N and whispered, “So, when are you finally going to propose? Don’t you think it’s about time?”
Beth joined in, nudging Katie. “You’re both head over heels. One of you has to pop the question sometime.”
Katie and Y/N exchanged a quick look, and that was all it took for them to come up with the perfect plan. If their teammates wanted drama, well, they’d get some—but not in the way they expected.
That Friday, right after training, the team was lounging in the common room, chatting away. Katie and Y/N entered the room together, but the air between them felt… tense. They both wore exaggerated frowns, and the whole squad quickly sensed that something was off.
Katie sighed loudly, folding her arms as she glanced around the room. “You know what, Y/N? I think we need to talk.”
Y/N crossed her arms as well, turning to face Katie with an indignant glare. “Oh, I’m the one who’s difficult? Right, because it’s never you, Katie.”
Their teammates immediately exchanged panicked glances, sensing trouble. Viv’s mouth dropped open slightly, and Leah subtly motioned for everyone to keep quiet.
Katie sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t think I can deal with this anymore.”
“Oh, I don’t think I can deal with you anymore!” Y/N shot back, her voice getting louder. She placed her hands on her hips and turned to the team. “Can you all believe this? She thinks she can just tell me what to do like I’m some rookie!”
Beth’s eyes widened in horror as she looked at the others, mouthing, “What did we do?”
Leah, clearly caught between intervening and staying out of it, held up her hands. “Hey, guys… maybe we can talk this out? I mean, no need to… break up or anything.”
Katie scoffed. “Why not, Leah? Maybe it’s exactly what we need. It’s not like she listens to me anyway!”
Y/N threw her hands in the air, her voice tinged with mock hurt. “Fine, Katie! If that’s how you feel, maybe we’re just better off apart!”
The whole room fell into a stunned silence. Alessia looked horrified, Beth looked guilty, and Viv was on the verge of intervening. Just as they were about to step in, Y/N turned her back to Katie, but not before giving her a tiny, knowing smirk.
Katie matched her smirk and kept her voice stern. “Fine. Then let’s be done with it.”
At that, the team could no longer hold back.
Beth jumped up, wide-eyed. “No, no, no, don’t do this! This is all our fault. We pushed you two too hard!”
Leah held her hands out pleadingly. “We’re sorry! You two are great together. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
Katie and Y/N shared a quick glance, barely containing their laughter. But they kept up the act a little longer.
Y/N shook her head, turning toward the door. “Maybe if everyone minded their own business, we wouldn’t be here.”
Alessia let out a desperate sigh, looking at them with puppy-dog eyes. “Please, just… don’t break up because of us. You two are like… Arsenal’s power couple!”
Finally, Katie and Y/N couldn’t hold it in anymore. They both burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs as they doubled over. The rest of the team looked on, baffled.
Y/N, still giggling, looked up at them and said, “Relax, we’re not actually breaking up.”
Katie wiped a fake tear from her eye. “But maybe you all should consider giving us some space before you end up with real relationship drama!”
The realization dawned on them, and the team’s horrified expressions turned to annoyed glares.
Beth threw a pillow at them. “You two are the worst! Do you know how much we panicked?”
Leah shook her head, laughing despite herself. “Honestly, I’ve never been so terrified. Thought you two were about to kill each other!”
Y/N grinned, wrapping an arm around Katie. “See, maybe this is a lesson. Next time, stay out of our business, alright?”
Katie gave Y/N a wink. “Or we might have to pull something even bigger on you lot.”
Viv crossed her arms, her lips quirked in amusement. “Duly noted. Maybe we’ll just let you propose when you’re ready.”
Katie and Y/N exchanged a secret smile, knowing that their real proposal would happen when they were ready—not a moment before. And for now, they were more than happy to keep their teammates on their toes.
It was a crisp autumn day at Arsenal's training ground, the air buzzing with anticipation. It had been exactly a year since Katie and Y/N’s infamous “breakup” prank, and Katie had been quietly planning a real surprise that would catch everyone off guard: a proposal. But, naturally, she couldn’t do it without one last prank.
The plan was simple: after a light morning training, Katie would gather everyone, fake a “heated argument” with Y/N, and then propose right when things seemed tense enough. With the ring already secured, she felt confident it would be a day no one would forget.
Training went smoothly until Katie called everyone over during the warm-down. Y/N, feigning confusion, trailed behind the team, giving Katie a questioning look as she shot her a conspiratorial wink.
“All of you, come here!” Katie called, looking as serious as possible, her tone carrying an edge that made everyone straighten up.
The team gathered around, exchanging wary glances. Leah raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “Katie, what’s going on?”
Katie crossed her arms, putting on her best frown. “I’ve had enough,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Y/N widened her eyes in mock alarm, playing her role perfectly. “Excuse me? You’ve had enough?”
Katie jabbed a finger in Y/N’s direction. “You never listen, Y/N! I can’t deal with this anymore.”
Beth’s eyes went wide as she exchanged a look with Viv, who mouthed, “Not again…”
Y/N crossed her arms and threw her head back. “You’re really doing this now, Katie? Here, in front of everyone?”
Katie clenched her fists, doing her best to look frustrated. “Yes, right now. Because apparently, nothing gets through to you otherwise!”
Leah stepped forward, looking horrified. “Guys… please, don’t do this again.”
Katie glared at Leah, not breaking character. “Stay out of this, Leah. This is between me and Y/N.”
Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Fine, then. Say what you have to say.”
The tension was thick, and the entire squad looked on, barely breathing. Alessia clutched Beth’s arm, her voice barely a whisper. “Are they seriously breaking up again?”
Just as the tension seemed unbearable, Katie sighed deeply and reached into her pocket. “You know what, Y/N? There’s only one thing I have left to say to you.”
Katie took a deep breath, pulled out the small black box, and dropped to one knee. The entire team gasped, jaws dropping in unison as realization hit them.
Katie looked up at Y/N, her eyes softening. “Y/N, you’re my everything. I love you more than I can even say. I’m done pretending, done pranking—well, after this one, anyway.” She chuckled softly. “Will you marry me?”
Y/N’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she took in the ring in Katie’s hands. Then, after a beat, she broke into a wide grin and nodded, letting a few tears fall. “Yes, Katie, of course!”
The team erupted in cheers, jumping and hugging each other in excitement and relief. Beth clapped her hands together, looking overjoyed. “Oh my god, this is amazing! Finally!”
Leah had tears in her eyes. “Katie McCabe, you scared us half to death again. But this time… I guess we can forgive you.”
Katie, still on her knee, shot them a mischievous grin as she slid the ring onto Y/N’s finger. “Didn’t think I’d let this go down without a bit of drama, did you?”
Y/N laughed, pulling her fiancée up into a tight hug. “You’re an absolute menace, you know that?”
Katie smirked, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s lips. “You love it.”
The team huddled around, bombarding them with hugs, questions, and a few well-deserved playful shoves. Viv crossed her arms, feigning annoyance but with a huge grin on her face. “You two need to stop toying with us!”
Beth wiped a tear away, grinning. “You’re officially banned from pranks after this. Next time, just get married in private and save us the heart attacks!”
Katie laughed, holding Y/N’s hand and looking around at her teammates—her family. “Alright, alright, no more pranks. But now you all owe us a huge celebration.”
And as the room filled with laughter, cheers, and a few well-placed jokes about “prank-ception,” Katie and Y/N shared a look, feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by the people who loved them, ready for this next chapter together.
It had been a few weeks since Katie’s dramatic proposal, and things had finally settled down. Y/N wore her engagement ring with pride, and Katie seemed to love showing off her fiancée at every opportunity. But Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe Katie deserved a little payback for all the times she’d pulled off elaborate pranks over the last year. So, Y/N hatched a plan of her own.
On a sunny Thursday morning, Y/N decided to start her prank. She went about her morning as usual, chatting with Katie and joking around as they got ready for training—but she purposely left her engagement ring on the dresser. Katie didn’t seem to notice at first, so Y/N held back a smirk as she joined her fiancée in the kitchen for breakfast, acting like nothing was amiss.
Katie, completely oblivious, handed Y/N her coffee and started talking about the team’s drills for the day. Y/N kept the conversation going, waiting for Katie to catch on, but Katie remained oblivious until they arrived at training.
In the locker room, Y/N made sure to keep her hands visible as she changed, hoping one of the girls would notice first. She could see Katie a few lockers over, chatting with Beth and Leah, so she subtly flashed her left hand to Viv, who immediately noticed.
“Y/N… where’s your ring?” Viv asked with a surprised look.
Katie’s head whipped around so fast it could have caused whiplash. She immediately zeroed in on Y/N’s bare finger, her eyes narrowing.
Y/N feigned a casual shrug. “Oh, must’ve forgotten it this morning.”
Katie’s face fell, clearly caught off guard. “Forgotten it? How do you… forget it?”
Y/N kept a straight face, casually slipping her socks on. “I don’t know, Katie. Just did.”
Katie stared at her, brow furrowing, clearly perturbed. “Didn’t think it was something you’d forget,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
Beth and Leah exchanged amused looks, sensing the tension. Leah, never one to resist poking the bear, gave Y/N an exaggerated gasp. “Y/N, isn’t that ring, like, supposed to be your most prized possession?”
Y/N bit back a grin, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. “I mean, it’s important, sure, but people forget things, right? Just a ring.”
Katie’s mouth dropped open. “Just a ring?!” she repeated, louder than she meant to. “You do know I picked it out especially for you, right?”
Y/N gave her an innocent look. “Of course I know, babe,” she said sweetly. “I’ll just… wear it tomorrow, okay?”
Katie’s face went through a rapid cycle of emotions—disbelief, annoyance, and, finally, resignation as she turned to Beth. “Can you believe this? I spent weeks picking that ring out, and she just forgets it.”
Beth, barely able to keep from laughing, put a sympathetic hand on Katie’s shoulder. “Hey, maybe she just needs some time to get used to it.”
Katie looked back at Y/N, an incredulous expression on her face. “Are you serious, Y/N?”
Y/N stifled her laughter, holding Katie’s gaze. “What? I’m dead serious. It’s not a big deal. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
Katie huffed, mumbling under her breath, “If I’d known you’d be this casual about it…”
The rest of training was filled with Katie throwing occasional glances Y/N’s way, muttering to herself whenever she saw that bare finger. The team, now fully aware of what was going on, watched with barely concealed amusement. Katie was wound up, and Y/N could tell she was doing everything she could not to bring it up again in front of the team.
After training, as they headed back to the locker room, Katie finally pulled Y/N aside, her voice low and urgent.
“Alright, what’s going on, Y/N? Are you… are you having second thoughts?”
Y/N’s eyes widened, and she could see genuine worry in Katie’s gaze. Immediately, she softened, realizing she might have taken the prank a little too far. But the teasing part of her couldn’t resist one last push.
“Second thoughts?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe about who’s better at pranks…”
Katie blinked, processing what Y/N had just said, then narrowed her eyes, realization dawning. “You… you’re pranking me?!”
Y/N laughed, reaching out to take Katie’s hand. “Guilty. Thought you could use a taste of your own medicine. Didn’t like thinking I’d forgotten the ring, did you?”
Katie’s face turned from annoyance to a playful smirk. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Y/N grinned, pulling her fiancée close. “That’s why you love me.”
Katie sighed, rolling her eyes with a reluctant smile. “Fine, fine. But don’t ever forget that ring again—or I’ll find a way to make you pay for it.”
Y/N laughed, bringing her hand up to show the ring she’d stashed in her pocket the whole time. “I could never actually forget it. Just needed to remind you that I can keep up with your pranks any day.”
Katie leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Noted. But next time, just wear the ring. I like showing off my fiancée.”
As they headed back to the team, hand in hand, they could hear the cheers and applause of their meddlesome teammates, who’d been watching the entire exchange. Katie just rolled her eyes, but Y/N squeezed her hand, grateful for every second of their ridiculous love.
A quiet evening had settled over London, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Katie and Y/N had the night all to themselves. No pranks, no training early in the morning—just the two of them, sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of wine between them, with an old movie neither of them was paying much attention to playing softly in the background.
Y/N swirled her wine glass and leaned back, a lazy smile on her face. "Remember when you hated me? How I 'ruined' every Arsenal training session?"
Katie snorted, nearly spilling her wine as she nudged Y/N with her shoulder. "Correction: you ruined my training sessions. And yes, I remember. Loud and clear."
Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling. "The first time we trained together, you went for my ankles like I’d stolen your dog."
Katie threw her head back laughing. “You’re not far off. In my defense, you were showing off a Northern Ireland crest tattoo , and I was not ready to see that at my club.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And that justified tripping me every five minutes?”
Katie smirked, leaning a little closer. “You kept saying you’d 'walk right back to Ireland' if I tripped you one more time. I was just… testing your resolve.”
Y/N let out a fake gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. "Oh, so you were helping me develop mental toughness?”
Katie grinned. "Exactly. You should be thanking me."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You were ruthless, McCabe. Always muttering something under your breath. I thought you’d genuinely curse me every time I touched the ball.”
Katie shot her a playful glare. “Oh, believe me, I was close. I couldn’t stand seeing you on the pitch. And you didn’t make it easy with your cheeky little comments about the ‘inferior side’ either.”
Y/N snickered, taking a sip of her wine. “I don’t know why I did that, honestly. Probably because of the look on your face every time. It was priceless.”
Katie rolled her eyes, but her expression softened as she looked over at Y/N. “The thing is… somewhere along the way, I kinda started to look forward to those arguments. It was the highlight of my day. Even if it drove me mad.”
Y/N smiled, her eyes warm as she studied Katie’s face. “Me too. I never thought I’d actually like you, let alone… you know, love you.”
Katie softened, a little smile tugging at her lips. “You’re pretty impossible not to love.”
Y/N’s smile grew wider, and she nudged Katie’s leg with her foot. “Careful, you’re getting sentimental on me.”
Katie laughed, leaning into her fiancée’s shoulder. “Fine, no more mushy talk. But I’m glad we got past all that rivalry stuff. I couldn’t imagine my life without you now.”
They both fell silent, their gazes drifting to the city lights through the window. After a moment, Katie broke the quiet.
“Do you think we’d still hate each other if we played on different teams?”
Y/N pondered it, tapping her fingers on her glass thoughtfully. “Probably. But I’d also be wondering what you were up to, wondering if you’d still get all mad whenever I got near the goal.”
Katie chuckled, shaking her head. “Knowing us, we’d probably be rivals forever, but the kind that secretly roots for each other.”
They both smiled at the thought, and Katie leaned closer, resting her head against Y/N’s shoulder, intertwining their fingers. The silence between them wasn’t awkward; it was comfortable, the kind of peace that comes when you’ve been through enough ups and downs together to appreciate the simple moments.
Katie eventually broke the silence again, her voice a soft murmur. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
Y/N gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We really have.”
For a while, they just sat there, sharing the quiet, letting the past fade as they enjoyed the present, right where they were supposed to be—together.
The stadium was buzzing as the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland lined up across from each other. The energy was electric, and the fans were on their feet, ready for an intense ninety minutes of international rivalry. But neither team was as fired up as Katie and Y/N.
Katie met Y/N’s gaze from across the pitch, her eyes narrowed with a fierce, competitive glint. Y/N shot her a smirk, giving a small, taunting wave. Katie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Katie muttered as she jogged past Y/N in warm-ups, a hint of playfulness in her voice. “We’re taking you down today.”
Y/N snorted, tilting her head. “Good luck with that, McCabe. Northern Ireland’s ready for anything you throw at us.”
The game kicked off with both teams giving their all, and Katie and Y/N held nothing back. The crowd watched in awe as Katie, with her usual intensity, threw herself into tackles and pushed her team forward at every opportunity. Y/N matched her, intercepting passes, making blocks, and turning every corner into a chance to push Northern Ireland on the offensive.
There was a moment in the first half when they clashed, literally. Katie went for a sliding tackle, and Y/N dodged it just in time, but the two ended up shoulder to shoulder, glaring at each other with intense, unwavering stares.
Katie huffed out a laugh, her voice just low enough for Y/N to hear, “You’re not getting past me, Y/N.”
Y/N smirked, leaning in just a bit. “We’ll see, Katie. You’re not as tough as you think.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed, and for the briefest moment, Y/N thought she saw a twinkle of amusement there. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N,” Katie shot back before sprinting after the ball.
As the game wore on, Northern Ireland managed to secure a goal, and the crowd went wild. Y/N, barely containing her excitement, ran back down the pitch, purposefully catching Katie’s eye with a smirk. Katie clenched her fists, determination blazing, and pushed her team even harder.
In the final minutes, with both sides exhausted, Katie got the ball in midfield and went on a run, weaving past Y/N and narrowly missing a goal with a powerful shot that hit the crossbar. Y/N bit back a sigh of relief as the whistle finally blew, signaling the end of the match.
Northern Ireland had won.
Katie, catching her breath, stayed on her side of the pitch, hands on her hips, looking frustrated but undeniably proud. Y/N jogged over to her, eyes gleaming as she slowed down right in front of Katie.
“Guess the best team won, huh?” Y/N teased, her smile mischievous.
Katie rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a grin. “Don’t start, Y/N. We’ll get you next time.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. “You sure about that? Looked like your team was working pretty hard to keep up.”
Katie huffed, crossing her arms in mock annoyance. “You’re lucky we’re off the pitch right now, or I’d wipe that smirk off your face.”
Y/N chuckled, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between them. “Oh, would you now? Guess we’ll never know.” Her voice softened as she nudged Katie’s shoulder, eyes softening as she spoke. “You played amazing, Katie. I mean it.”
Katie’s faux-scowl melted as she looked back at Y/N, a smile breaking through. “You too, babe. Guess we really do bring out the best in each other, huh?”
Y/N nodded, her heart swelling. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching and then quickly pulled Katie into a hug, burying her face in Katie’s shoulder for a brief moment. Katie hugged her back just as tightly, whispering, “I love you, but I’m still mad you won.”
Y/N laughed, pulling back with a grin. “You’ll survive. And besides, this just means I get bragging rights all month.”
Katie groaned, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. “Fine, fine. But don’t get too used to it.”
They exchanged one last look before heading back to their respective teams, but both knew they’d be right back in each other’s arms as soon as they could slip away.
Back at the hotel that night, after a post-match dinner and some inevitable teasing from teammates, Y/N finally managed to catch Katie alone in the hallway. Katie smirked as soon as she saw her, folding her arms.
“Don’t think this means I’m letting you off easy. You might’ve won today, but I’ll be back,” Katie said, trying to keep her tone serious but failing to hide the sparkle in her eyes.
Y/N grinned, stepping close and resting her hand on Katie’s arm. “I’m looking forward to it, McCabe. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Katie gave her a teasing glare. “Just you wait, Y/L/N. Next time, it’ll be me teasing you.”
Y/N laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Katie’s cheek before pulling her into a hug. “Bring it on. But until then, you’ll just have to deal with the fact that I’m the winner.”
Katie groaned but hugged her tighter. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts, Y/N. I’m coming for that win next time.”
They held each other close, the rivalry left on the field as they enjoyed the comfort of each other’s arms. All the banter, all the competition—it only made this moment feel even sweeter.
Three years had flown by, and Y/N and Katie’s lives had changed in ways they’d once only imagined. Now, not only were they partners in life and still teammates on Arsenal’s pitch, but they had a little girl, Ava, who had quickly become the light of their lives. With Katie’s fiery attitude and Y/N’s quiet determination, Ava had inherited quite the personality—and a strong set of lungs to match.
The whole team had gathered at the park for an impromptu picnic. As Ava toddled around, squealing in delight as she chased the team’s soccer balls, Katie and Y/N watched on with quiet smiles, occasionally casting each other amused glances.
Leah, watching Ava attempt to kick a ball with all her might (and only managing to send it rolling gently forward), chuckled and leaned over to Katie with a smirk. “So…have you two decided yet?” she asked mischievously.
Katie squinted at her, confused. “Decided what?”
Leah tilted her head toward Ava, grinning. “Which team Ava’s going to support, Republic of Ireland or Northern Ireland?”
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, don’t get her started, Leah. She’s already making plans.”
Katie nudged Y/N, giving her a mock glare. “Oi, plans? She’s obviously going to support Ireland—my Ireland.”
“Oh really?” Y/N shot back, folding her arms, a playful challenge in her eyes. “She’s as much my daughter as yours, Katie. Northern Ireland’s got plenty to offer.”
Katie scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Name one thing Northern Ireland’s got that beats a Republic of Ireland jersey with ‘McCabe’ on the back.”
Y/N grinned. “How about an NI jersey with Y/L/N on it?” She glanced over to see Ava waving the soccer ball at Leah, who was playing along by dramatically pretending she couldn’t catch it. “See? She’s already got Leah wrapped around her finger. An arsenal fan, through and through at least.”
Katie gasped in mock offense, clutching her chest. “Leah, you traitor!”
Leah shrugged, holding back laughter. “Hey, don’t drag me into this! Besides,” she teased, winking at Katie, “everyone knows I’m Ava’s favorite. So, maybe she’ll grow up as a Lioness.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Lioness? Not a chance. You’ll see—first time she sees her mama in green, she’ll be cheering with pride.” She reached over and scooped Ava up, spinning her around, and Ava squealed with delight. “Right, Ava? You’ll wear green like your mama, won’t you?”
Ava’s tiny fists pumped into the air as she babbled excitedly, though neither Katie nor Y/N could make out a single word. But Ava’s enthusiasm was enough to make Katie beam, certain she’d just gotten the confirmation she wanted.
Y/N laughed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “We’ll see about that, Katie. I’ve got time to win her over.”
Katie turned back, smirking. “Oh, it’s on, Y/L/N. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re dealing with a McCabe superfan in a few years.”
The two shared a laugh, but as Katie pulled Y/N in close, their teasing faded into warm smiles. Ava squirmed between them, clearly ready to return to her soccer ball, and Katie set her down with a grin. They watched Ava charge toward Leah, babbling in her own language as she went, and Katie squeezed Y/N’s hand.
“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Katie murmured, her voice soft and full of affection.
Y/N leaned her head against Katie’s shoulder, eyes on their little girl. “Yeah, but whatever team she ends up cheering for, she’ll always be our little star.”
Katie nodded, resting her head against Y/N’s. “Our little Ava—future football legend, no matter the color.”
As Ava squealed with joy, Leah joined the couple, shaking her head in amusement. “I’ll say this, though—Ava’s got the luckiest parents in the world. And if we’re being honest,” she added with a grin, “she’s going to be one heck of a player no matter which team she roots for.”
Katie and Y/N exchanged a proud smile, both knowing that Leah was absolutely right. Their daughter was already shaping up to be just as fierce and full of heart as her mothers.
Seventeen years had passed, and the day Y/N and Katie had always joked about—but secretly dreaded—had finally arrived. Their daughter, Ava, now a young football sensation in her own right, was making her England debut. England. Of all teams. She was a Lioness.
As the stadium buzzed with excitement, Katie sat grumbling in the stands, arms folded across her chest. Y/N was next to her, frowning at the England flag waving on the big screen as it showcased Ava’s name. Meanwhile, Leah, sitting on the other side of Y/N, was practically bouncing with pride, her England scarf wrapped around her shoulders.
Katie leaned toward Y/N, muttering in a voice loud enough for Leah to hear, “Unbelievable. How did we let this happen?”
Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “Years of her godmother whispering in her ear, that’s how.”
Leah laughed, unfazed by their grumbling. “Oh, come on, you two! You can’t deny she’s right where she belongs.”
Katie scoffed, her arms still crossed tightly. “I can’t believe I’m about to cheer for England. My own daughter… in a white jersey!”
Leah rolled her eyes, turning to Y/N. “Come on, back me up here, Y/N. You’ve been through her endless debating, the sleepless nights before choosing. You know she loves this team.”
Y/N groaned, torn between her pride for Ava and her allegiance to her own roots. “I know, I know. But it’s still surreal, Leah. Our little Ava could’ve chosen any team.”
Katie shot Y/N a look, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. Republic of Ireland was right there.”
Leah laughed again, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. We all knew from the time she was little that she’d choose England. I mean, look at her godmother.” She winked and pointed proudly to herself, her England scarf gleaming under the stadium lights.
Katie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, exactly. Look what we’re stuck with. This is what happens when you let Leah be a godmother.”
Y/N chuckled, nudging Katie’s shoulder. “Oh, stop it. It’s not the worst thing in the world. At least she’s playing for someone’s team here.”
Katie huffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Fine, but I’m blaming Leah for the rest of my life.”
At that moment, the players ran out onto the field, and Ava’s name flashed on the jumbotron. Leah jumped to her feet, clapping and cheering, while Katie and Y/N joined in, though their clapping was far less enthusiastic.
As Ava glanced up toward the stands, she spotted them, giving a big grin and a wave. Katie softened just a bit, nudging Y/N. “Look at that face. She’s having the time of her life, isn’t she?”
Y/N smiled, a mix of pride and amusement in her eyes. “She is. And she looks just like you when you played your first match. Well…minus the green jersey.”
Katie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. “Alright, alright. I admit it. I’m proud. But I’ll be even prouder if she scores against Leah’s team.”
Leah laughed again, clearly enjoying every second of this. “In your dreams, Katie. Ava’s going to make you eat those words when she scores her first England goal!”
As the whistle blew, the game kicked off, and for all their grumbling, Katie and Y/N couldn’t take their eyes off their daughter, watching her every move with a mixture of awe and pride.
And when Ava did finally score—her very first goal in an England shirt—the stadium erupted in cheers, with Leah leaping to her feet, shouting, “That’s my goddaughter!”
Katie let out a groan but stood up, clapping nonetheless, and muttered under her breath, “Fine… maybe England isn’t all bad.”
Y/N squeezed Katie’s hand, her eyes misty as she watched Ava celebrate with her teammates. “Yeah, maybe not. Just this once.”
Leah smirked, her face filled with triumph. “I knew you two would come around eventually.”
Katie shot her a playful glare. “Don’t get too smug, Leah. She may be wearing white now, but she’ll still always be our daughter first.”
Leah threw an arm around both of them, laughing as the three of them watched Ava jog back to the halfway line, glowing with pride and excitement. “Lucky for her, she’s got the best of both worlds.”
Y/N and Katie exchanged a look, finally giving in and laughing along. For all their teasing and the years of rivalry, nothing could change the love they felt for their daughter, no matter what colors she wore.
After the international break the transfer season opened up, and with it a whole other can of worms.
Ava’s transfer to Chelsea had been the talk of the league for weeks, but when the official announcement dropped, it hit harder than any of them expected. Ava McCabe-Y/L/N, a product of the Arsenal academy, and the daughter of two Arsenal legends, was making the switch to their fiercest rival.
When Katie and Y/N arrived at the pub, the mood was thick with tension, and every player they passed wore expressions ranging from shock to outright betrayal. By the time they reached the tables, the team was buzzing with mixed emotions.
Katie put her hands on her hips, eyeing everyone. “Alright, everyone, calm down.”
Leah, looking stunned and visibly heartbroken, crossed her arms and let out a deep sigh. “Calm down? Your daughter—who we’ve all practically raised at this club—is now playing for Chelsea, Katie. Chelsea!”
Y/N let out a small laugh, though it held a hint of nervousness. “Oh, believe me, we didn’t see this one coming, either. You think we’re happy about this?”
Beth groaned dramatically. “How could she do this to Leah? How could she do this to me? To all of Arsenal? And, uh, to you two, of course,” she added, glancing apologetically at Katie and Y/N.
Katie grumbled, crossing her arms with a huff. “Tell me about it. But we’ve got to support her, don’t we?”
The room erupted in laughter, though it was more out of disbelief than humor. Viv, shaking her head, muttered, “This is unreal. She grew up at that club. Arsenal is in her blood.”
Y/N sighed, shrugging helplessly. “We thought so, too. But she’s her own person, and she wanted to follow her own path.” She exchanged a look with Katie, who looked like she was fighting an internal battle of pride and frustration.
“Her own path at Chelsea,” Katie scoffed, though a small smile broke through as she shook her head. “A part of me can’t help but respect her for it.”
Leah threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re on board with this already!”
Katie chuckled, giving in. “No, no, of course not! I still can’t believe it. But we both know Ava’s always had a mind of her own.”
Y/N gave Katie a soft nudge. “She’s a McCabe—she was bound to do something this dramatic at some point.”
The entire locker room dissolved into laughter, with Katie shaking her head in defeat. “Alright, alright. I suppose she gets that from me.”
“Absolutely,” Leah said, wiping away a tear of laughter. “But you two better not show up in Chelsea blue any time soon, or I’m done.”
Katie threw her hands up in surrender. “Relax, Leah. We’re Arsenal through and through.” Then, leaning back with a smirk, she added, “Though, if you ask Ava, she might have other ideas.”
The room filled with laughter again, with the team gradually accepting that, while Ava’s decision was shocking, it wasn’t the end of the world. She’d always be their Ava, even if she wore the wrong colors. And though Katie and Y/N weren’t thrilled with her choice, they couldn’t help but feel a little proud of her fierce independence—even if it meant she was now the product of their greatest rival.
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The End
#offside story#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso#woso soccer#katie mccabe x reader#katie mccabe#katie mccabe imagine
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The Songbird
Yandere Adoptive Fae King Dad & Child Reader
Part One
King Solaris was in a foul mood, today marked three years since his youngest daughter left to go study with the Northern Sea Witch and he missed her terribly. While three years is not much long to a fae, for a father it seemed an eternity. His court was as it always was, laughter and screams, dancing and bleeding, the same faces, the same smells and he was bored of it all.
“Father,” said his eldest son, watching his father’s tail lash back and forth as he sat on his throne, “might I suggest that you might go for a walk? How long has it been since you’ve been in the crossroads? Surely better to patrol them then stay to stew in your restlessness?”
The King sighed heavily, his flame orange cape draped over the left side of the throne. “Your sister hasn’t written yet,” he said, eyes still on the writhing mass of his court in front of him. His hand moved from propping up his chin to covering his heart, “I should go and see her.”
“Father,” said the eldest son, struggling not to implore the sky herself, “She has not missed a single day of letters, we both know that it will come. Stop sitting like a house cat and find something to take your mind off it until it comes.”
The King sighed even more loudly because he knew his son was right, with a flick of his wrist his cape turned into an emerald green hunter’s jacket standing up. He turned to face his son, seeing the crowd in the reflection of his eyes. His son was taller than him now and it brought a great pride to him. “I leave you to watch til I return my son,” he said with a slight head bow.
His son fully bowed his head, laurel green curls falling past sharp black horns, his hand over his heart, “Thank you for the honor father,” he said.
Solaris couldn’t stop a soft smile thinking of the same boy he brought home all those years ago. He reached out ruffling his sons hair, laughing at the slightly annoyed look his son gave as he stood up height again.
“See you soon father,” said Callan, a touch more dry than before. The King laughed again, turning and completely disappearing from the court.
It had been a while since he’d been in the cross-lands where human and fae territory overlapped. The human area changed from time to time, no one knew where the crossroads would be, and when that would change. When he reached the other side, he found it to be in he same place it had been about fifty years, he counted the years in a tree nearby. It was an early summer day where all the birds and insects were singing together but they knew well enough that the King was not in a fair mood and so went silent in respect.
The King stalked forward hands in his pockets as his mind wandered over the state of the forest, feeling how much closer the humans had settled nearby. He could smell them, even this far away and it irked him more with each passing second. It was odd for the boarder to stay for so long, usually half the time it had been here. He hadn’t cursed a town in quite a while. It might be a good way to bring back respect the humans seemed prone to do.
He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a thin reedy but full hearted singing. He clicked his tongue out loud, listening closer to realize it was a human whelp that was singing.
A child should know better than to be loud when the forest is silent. Where is it’s guardian to keep it safe? Or do the humans think we so weak to not show our teeth?
It was an easy task, show himself and play with them a bit, see if they were smarter than their parents. Maybe he’d turn them to a songbird since they seemed to love their voice. A lesson to neglectful parents about teaching your child to walk around the forest alone, as if they owned it.
He did admit that the child did have a rather sweet voice, and he had thoughts of shaping them something into more than just a simple songbird, maybe one that could also speak and mimic. Something he could put in a glass birdcage and listen to when he was bored.
The child was bent over in the dirt, singing some old folk song, hair loosely back dirty and sweaty. Who knows when they last had a bath, the King scoffed internally. Their clothes not much better much too big, covered in a thick layer of dirt. It all only strengthened his resolve to turn them to a songbird they would be treated much better than they were currently.
He stepped into the forest clearing, the air around them both growing thick and wild, a smell of hot summer grass hung like a cloud. The King watched motionless with a smile as the hunched figure froze in place, smart child to know when they were outmatched, no grand heroics or disrespect. The child lifted their face, and the King was oddly pleased, it was cleaner than their hair and he could that the child had spent most of their life facing towards the sun. Their eyes looked the same as a fawn caught in the sight line of a wolf, but their mouth was turned into a hesitant smile.
The King cocked his head to the side at the child’s smile, before he could say a word the child spoke.
“Hello,” they said, their voice soft with a slight tremor but a distinct note of hope, “what’s your name?”
With those simple four words, the Solaris knew that this was to be his third child. A neglected songbird, but with a quick wit and curiosity that spoke of greater things than their tiny village. He wanted to scoop them up, and tell of all the great things they would see and do. But this was not his first time bringing a child of his own. So he smiled as he knelt to be closer to the eye-line. of the child.
“You, songbird, may call me, Solaris, may I know what you to call you songbird?”
When the child’s face brightened, any hesitation was gone, this child was his and he couldn’t wait to bring them home.
#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#platonic yandere#yandere x gn reader#yandere x reader#can be read as platonic or romantic#child reader#yandere adoptive dad#*drops this and runs*#heyyy guyys#my life has been kind of on fire but things seem to be slowly looking up#I can't promise what will be next will be anytime soon I've had a hard time writing but I'm going to keep trying#also I have no beta so please let me know if I misspelled or have a grammar error#you guys get to meet half of the sibling duo and will meet the other sooner than later#what do you think of our prince?#byeeeeeee
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Ranger's apprentice OC Rowan Marlowe
Name: Rowan Marlowe
Fief: Deywis fief
Ranger number: 19
First appearance: The Early Years - as one of the rangers that come back in book 2. (Age 22)
(lore and map under the read more)
Rowan is ranger of Deywis fief (on the map) ever since first war with lord Morgarath.
Rowan was apprentice to ranger Edward Thorpe, whom he first met when he had to untangle the ranger from a fishing net. Half of Rowan's family is in the fishing business on the east coast of Araluen.
He is a casual friend with Crowley Meratyn whom he knew ever since being apprentice.
A few years after the first war with Morgarath (Age 26), Rowan is sent to investigate the situation in Seaham fief, as Seaham doesn't have a ranger yet due to the lack of rangers after the war. The Seaham fief is a small fief east of Caraway, neighboured by Carnforth fief to the north and Deywis fief to the south. The Seaham fief struggles due to sudden surge of skandian raids and economic damage of the war. It is run by young baron Eiric Bowburn and his sister Aisling Bowburn. The baron of Carnforth fief, lord Cuthbert Galloway, is greedy and ambitious man who sees the struggling fief as opportunity to gain more power. He bribes bandits to plague the fief and tries discredit Eiric and prove him as incapable baron to the king Duncan. Rowan is sent there by Crowley to investigate the situation and together with Eiric and Aisling, the young ranger helps to uncover and thwart Cuthbert's plots.
Rowan and Aisling start to fall for eachother but they struggle with relationship across fiefs and Rowan himself still struggles with unresolved feelings from his breakup with the knight of Caraway castle, Cynric Blaiddwell, with whom he had relationship before being forced to leave Araluen when Morgarath was gaining power.
After the second war with Morgarath (Age 38), Rowan is tasked by Crowley to track and bring to justice one of Mortgaraths important lieutenants, Ransford Crayke.
Rowan tracks Ransford deep into Scottia territory, however, along the way Ransford murdered a little child of southern Scotti clan because he wanted to steal a horse. Upon tracking down Ransford, Rowan kills him in fight but not before being injured by Ransford. One of northern Scotti clans members with deep resentment of Araluen and rangers, happen upon dead Ransford and injured Rowan, and take the ranger captive, planning to execute him in their village.
Rowan escapes but due to being in harsh northern unknown, without equipment and weapons and still suffering due to his injuries, he eventually collapses and blacks out. He is found by southern Scotti clan warriors who went north to hunt down Ransford, who murdered the child of their clan. They know Rowan is innocent and that he actually killed Ransford and they take him to their village and nurse back to health out of honor and obligation but they do not feel very warm towards the ranger himself. However, as Rowan is gaining strength and heals, he makes friends amongst the clan. By this time, Cynric who went looking for him, arrives and together they leave for Araluen.
After MacHaddish's raid on castle Macindaw (Age 44), the tensions between Scotti and Araluen rise and Rowan is sent as negotiator due to his knowledge of land, language and people from his time in Scottia.
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About the ranger Rowan Marlowe:
Rowan is of calm and analytical nature, he tends to be more quiet than loud but isn't gloomy or too withdrawn and doesn't hesitate to smile or laugh.
He is rather competent with standard ranger weapons and equipment but isn't much of a fighter. However he is an excellent tracker and thinker and often he is assigned missions by Crowley that fit these strengths.
He rides a smoky black mare called Spring, whose name doesn't have anything to do with season but rather the dance like spring she sometimes does when about to start walking. Spring has a bold manner of sticking her head in your cabin window if you fail to remember to close it.
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Aisling Bowburn:
Aisling is clever and inquisitive, but measured and not an outward rebel, however she doesn't hesitate to show her displeasure and disagreement. She is a great singer and indulges in simple dresses and hunter outfits both. Aisling is good horse rider and wears a dagger, but it mostly serves as a tool as she isn't a fighter and avoids violence at all costs.
Due to Seaham being a rather small fief and her kind nature, Aisling makes sure to know people of the fief who love her and her brother in return.
Eiric Bowburn:
Eiric is the official baron of the Seaham fief but he often lets himself be heard that the fief is run both by him and Aisling. He is dyslexic and due to this, Aisling often helps with paperwork too. Eiric loves music and if he has his money to spare he often invites musicians to play at village surrounding the castle so it can be enjoyed common folk as well. Eiric is kindhearted like his sister with mischievous spark and would do anything anything for Aisling. As well as his sister, he also tends to know and help people of his fief. He is a good swordsman but prefers spear for its longer reach.
Cynric Blaiddwell:
Cynric is a knight of Caraway fief and one of MacNeils former students. He was born and grew in Deywis fief where met with Rowan, but moved to Caraway for his apprenticeship with MacNeil.
As apprentices, Cynric and Rowan met and became friends and eventually started dating. Their relationship cut short badly upon Morgarath gaining power due to differences in opinions and Cynric's tournaments fame. Cynric wasn't supporter of Morgarath but he and Rowan didn't see eye to eye about staying in Araluen or doing something about the whole Morgarath situation.
When Rowan came back to Araluen in TEY2, they could be friendly with eachother but there was a lot of tension and unresolved emotions that didn't really help. And after the war, they both went to their respective fiefs and didn't have a chance to talk for a few years.
Cynric is of cheerful but also rather emotional nature and is known to be prone to occasional outbursts.
Cynric is a very good swordsman and rather excels at jousting which earns him a lot of fame, which was one of the reasons he and Rowan broke up, due to them not knowing how to handle it.
Edward Thorpe:
Edward was Rowan's mentor. He was of a wild and energetic nature. He was a very good bowman, being rivaled only by Pritchard with whom he often bantered and the two of them often had ridiculous and silly beefs.
He only had one apprentice, Rowan, whom he met by being rescued by him from a disastrous fishing net.
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A map for locations reference. Map is based on work to John Flanagan however I worked a bit loosely with coastlines, expanded Scottia/Picta for my plot needs and added locations of mentioned fiefs.
#rangers apprentice#ranger's apprentice#rangers apprentice oc#oc posting#rowan marlowe#aisling bowburn#eiric bowburn#edward thorpe#cynric blaiddwell
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If the proxy already has Slenderman's mark on his body, it already belongs to him, Slenderman possesses that proxy's mind, body and soul.
Slenderman can control the proxy's body, erase the memories he wants, can create false memories, can make the proxy hallucinate and make him hear voices.
He can also see what his proxies are doing, but he cannot see what they are doing if they are in the Southern Forest.
I don't remember saying this here, but basically, the Northern Forest is where Slenderman's mansion is, this forest is Slenderman's territory, he allows creepypastas to live there as long as they do some work for Slenderman and follow orders what he created.
The Southern forest is a forest ruled by Zalgo, Zalgo doesn't really care about this forest, and lets anyone in there, except the proxies and creepypastas who work in some way for Slenderman. In that forest there are Zalgo creatures that are poisonous, there are also normal animals that have been altered because they are living in that forest.
Making these things clear, Toby is not a proxy who truly obeys Slenderman, and there was an occasion where Slenderman controlled Toby's body. (Actually, there were several occasions like this, but I will talk about one in specific.)
After finishing his “training” to become a proxy, meaning he was tortured to become tougher, faster, stronger, and smarter, Toby was ordered by Slenderman to kill a family. Toby completely rejected it, because in addition to the woman and the man, they had 3 children, a 7 year old, a 10 year old and a newborn, but Slenderman obviously wouldn't accept a no, so he controlled Toby's body and left Toby watch as he killed the entire family using Toby's own body.
Toby blamed himself a lot, this happened repeatedly, and it was destroying Toby's psychology even more, so much so that he stopped caring, he started killing everyone Slenderman told him to kill. Because it wouldn't change anything for him to say that he wouldn't kill these people, because they would die anyway and it would still be by his hands.
Clock helped him calm down, helped ease the guilt he felt, but Slenderman sent her away from him too, which made Toby's condition worse.
After some time, Toby met Eyeless Jack and after a long time they got along well, and Eyeless Jack became Toby's safe haven, whenever Toby was feeling bad he went to Eyeless Jack, Jack stopped him from hurting himself.
{I don't like writing English, because I use the translator and the writing is probably bad, and it probably gets worse because I speak Portuguese and Portuguese has a lot of words, and even gives objects a gender T-T}
I'm really bothered, because in Portuguese I write in one sense, but in English it translates to a completely different meaning.
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His Favourite: Fragments
Written once again for @flashfictionfridayofficial using the prompt #FFF260 fear is a sickness as prompt. There could be spoilers if you haven’t seen the 13th episode.
—
Fandom: Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master
Characters: Wakamiya/Nazukihiko/Crown Prince/Golden Raven/Kin’u, Yukiya, Hamayu/Sakura-hime/Sakura, mentions of Sumio, Lady Azusa, Lord Genya
Word count: 1090
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“IF you want to die, then you can do that all by yourself. I will not stand here idle for your assassins to kill you.”
Yukiya then poised to leave the courtyard, nudged his horse, and flew away.
“We will meet again. I know it,” Wakamiya said shortly before the boy’s departure feeling so sure of himself.
“In your dreams, maybe. I am not planning to come back here at all,” the boy faced his master as if forgetting something. “Of course, everything will be different if you decide to give up your claim to the throne. Let your brother Lord Natsuka rule for they want him. Then I promise I will be yours forever… to serve you.”
Wakamiya’s breath hitched for a second.
Yukiya never thought of it much: the longer he stayed with his young master, the easier it was to love him.
But when he thought of the downside of serving Wakamiya, he never longed to be a part of a farce they called the imperial court with so many schemers wanting to get ahead of each other by stomping everyone’s feet.
Yet, deep inside, the Crown Prince only had to say the word and Yukiya would fold at once.
“I know it because I am a kin’u. One day I will ask for you and you will come back to me.”
Yukiya gaped at Wakamiya as if he grew horns over his head. He stood there not moving but focused his eyes on the prince. The whole time Sumio was only waiting for his cue after His Highness stopped him earlier from interrupting the boy’s tirade.
“I am saying this because I worry about you. I do not want you to die.” Pain etched on Yukiya’s face.
A kumquat flew in the air. Yukiya caught the candied fruit with his right hand and looked grumpily at his now former young master. Wakamiya in turn fixed his gaze on the boy longer than he had intended to do until he vanished from his sight. A final goodbye at the moment.
~~
“Sit down, Your Highness! You make me more than scared than I should be,” Hamayu poured sake on her cup and downed it at once eyeing at her husband.
Wakamiya circled the open hearth in the middle of the vast room of the study, unmoored, confused, and agitated. He should not have given his permission in the first place. Guards were watching the Sunrise Palace preventing him to leave. Even Sumio threatened to break his leg if he tried to escape from his chamber. There was a coup happening in the Northern Territory and His Serene Lord Genya and his entire family were in the middle of it. The rebels took hostage of his grandson, Lord Kiei, and his wife and their two children ages 4 and 7. Yukiya was rumoured to be imprisoned somewhere outside of the city when he, despite Wakamiya’s protestations, returned to visit his family in Taruhi then decided to join his grandfather’s force to quell the uprising. When Sumio came back to report what happened, he was devastated. He knew that it would come to this. Years ago, he had a premonition. Yukiya graduated at the top of the class from Keisoin Academy and there were plans to celebrate it at the palace, a special ceremony only for him. But as days and hours went by the idea of postponing it was imminent. The young man’s hardships began now.
“Would you let me suffer here too, Hamayu?” The Crown Prince asked his spouse, his face and no doubt, his heart, was in anguish as well. The Golden Raven was supposed to be above it all, but fear was a sickness of the heart.
She stared at him with her huge blue eyes that reminded him of the young man he should have welcomed in a few days but would not be able to. Sighing, she touched his thin, yet strong, shoulders. The Sakura-hime had not seen her husband so down that it broke her heart seeing him like this. He claimed that he did not have feelings, or that his love for all Yatagarasu was equal, but it was clear that as the soul of the youngest son of the head family, he had. And it was clear who his favourite was.
“Go ahead, Nazukihiko, I will manage it from here,” Hamayu squeezed his hands and kissed his lips signalling her assent.
That afternoon a handsome young lady was seen leaving the Sunrise Palace with her dainty feet as if she were floating then vanished into thin air.
~~
When Wakamiya found Yukiya, he was unconscious. The face bloodied and swollen from the beatings, the young man’s long reddish-brown hair laid out on the dirty ground was sticky both from trickles of blood and dust that accumulated from days of torture and non-washing. The prison was long abandoned, but the smell of fear and deprivation lingered in the air.
No doubt the Yamauchi army’s higher-ups interfering with the negotiations between the rebels and the camp from Lord Genya helped. It was a dispute that should not happen in the first place. Fate had it that the families from Taruhi Village were spared. Thank the mountain god.
In a separate building of the governor’s mansion Yukiya recuperated. Lady Azusa, his mother, was overjoyed and thanked the prince for the young man’s salvation.
~~
“Am I not disturbing you?” A familiar voice, albeit fuller, addressed Wakamiya catching him by surprise. “The Sakura and Sumio let me enter without fanfare. I hope it is all right. How long has it been? Three years?” There was still bandage on his head, but his body, now fully grown, remained intact. The young man’s crooked smile always got the prince every time, the mischief and the cunning when Yukiya first entered the service under him.
Nostalgia be damned.
“Yukiya!” Wakamiya stood there as if frozen, but his happiness was palpable.
Yukiya stepped toward him. Without saying a word, he went down to his knees, half-closed his eyes, bowed his head, and began to speak.
“Please welcome me again as your servant. I promise to serve you and Yamauchi with loyalty, respect, and love for all eternity until the day I breathe my last. I am ready.”
At the end of Yukiya’s speech, Wakamiya’s right hand hovered on the young man’s head then exhaled.
“I accept.”
And the course of the history of Yamauchi had changed forever with the Prince and his favourite vassal.
tbc
#flash fiction#flash fiction friday#flashfictionfriday#fff260#fear is a sickness#yatagarasu#the raven does not choose its master#wakamiya#yukiya#hamayuu#my fanfic stuff#yukiya/wakamiya
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As We Ponder Belief
(2p!Prussia x Reader) - Chapter 44
Note: This story is based vaguely during the mid 1200s in Eastern Europe where the Teutonic Knights fought the Northern Crusades to try and convert the native pagan population to Christianity. As a result, this story will have heavy religious themes all throughout. It should also be noted that, while referencing real-life events and locations, I am not striving for full historical accuracy. This is for the sake of the story I am telling.
Once again, this series will have heavy religious themes throughout, including discussions of bible stories, doctrine, and scripture verses, as well as critical analysis of Christian doctrine and beliefs. So, if you don't like that, you will want to skip out on this.
Gilbert froze upon hearing the name. With eyes wide, he glanced over at (y/n) out of his peripheral vision. The latter of which sat patiently be the riverside.
"I-I-I'm sorry, what?" The raspiness came back to his voice as he stumbled over his words. His face went pink from embarrassment.
(y/n) shifted awkwardly where she sat, and made an concentrated effort to choose her next words carefully.
"Gillen told me about your lives back home. About how you were friends with a girl named Elizabeta. He told me that you had feelings for her and were hurt when she found someone else. And that that's the reason you ended up joining the knights."
And why you weren't happy with what was happening between me and Gillen.
Gilbert appeared to be at a loss of words, now having turned his head fully to (y/n) as she delivered her newfound insight. His eyes seemed about ready to bulge out of his head.
"And Gillen told you all this?" He asked.
"He did," (y/n) confirmed.
Rolling his eyes and sighing with exasperation, Gilbert took a large rock from the riverbank. Turning downstream so as to not splash (y/n), he threw it as hard as he could. Letting out a grunt of frustration as he did so.
"That jackass," He mumbled under his breath, earning an annoyed look from (y/n) when he turned back to face her.
"Curse all you want, but please don't direct that at my future husband," She criticized.
"You might want to change that title to 'future-father-of-my-children', because you're already sound like a mother," Gilbert snarked.
(y/n) rolled her eyes, still a bit too tired to argue with Gilbert and his smart mouth. Though, to be fair, the word 'mother' still rang in her head for a breath or two. After a few seconds passed by, Gilbert turned his attention back to the water before continuing.
"But he's right," He readily admitted with almost zero reluctance, his voice calm and level. "I had talked about the knights before, but never planned on joining. But after Liz and my cousin got engaged, I didn't feel like I could be around her anymore. It hurt to see her with someone else. Especially when I saw how happy he made her. And what right did I have to impose on that happiness? So, I left with Gillen before the wedding. I... I couldn't even stand the thought of watching her promise herself to another man. How pathetic is that?" Gilbert finished with a pained, half-hearted chuckle.
(y/n) shook her head. "I don't think it's pathetic at all. You were hurting, and reacted in the only way you knew how. I can't judge you for that."
"I ran away, (y/n). A girl I liked chose someone else. And what did I do?" His voice got progressively more and more frustrated. "I responded by joining an order of monastic warrior monks headed to the middle of enemy territory. Where I would live in a fortress surrounded by other men whilst taking up a vow of celibacy," Gilbert shifted to sit in front of (y/n), looking her dead in the eye as he carefully and slowly worded his next statement. "My reaction to dealing with heartbreak was to give up on love and civilized society as a whole for the rest of my life."
(y/n) pressed her lips into a thin line before responding. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound kind of pathetic. However, you were still able to find happiness with the knights, right?"
"Indeed, I was," He breathed. The air around him was drifting between tense and solemn. "I loved it at the fortress, so over time I was able to put the whole thing largely out of my mind. But after you and Gillen got together, I felt as though life was mocking me. And then when Captain Nikolaus lost his blessed mind, I started to wonder if I should even stay there."
(y/n) mulled over his words, allowing herself to decipher something under the surface.
"Gilbert, correct me if I'm wrong. But what I'm hearing is that you feel... Lost?" She inquired. He reacted with confusion, but she could see the thought process in his mind. Particularly when his expression went from perplexed to intrigued. Ending with a sudden realization.
"I guess I am," Gilbert let his eyes fall to the grass as the truth set in around him, his voice breathy. "I left because I didn't know what else to do. The woman I loved chose someone else, so I impulsively decided to leave and join the Teutonic Order. Then, after five years, I found myself prompted to leave." Still processing the information, Gilbert ran his hands over his face, letting out a deep breath.
"You're lost and you're hurt," (y/n) noted, her tone brimming with empathy.
"And now I don't know where else to go," Gilbert lamented as he let his hands fall into his lap.
"I wouldn't say that's true. You've been traveling with Gillen and I for the past few days. So if it helps, you can logically say you're headed to Österreich to see your father," (y/n) attempted to comfort Gilbert. But these words only seemed to get under his skin.
"Ja, I can't go there," He said quickly, his voice on edge.
"What? Why not?"
"(y/n), did Gillen ever tell you how our father reacted when we left?"
(y/n) thought back months prior to when she started helping Gillen in the infirmary. Particularly the conversations they'd have.
"I think I remember him saying that he wasn't happy about it. But not much more than that," She replied curiously.
"That's one way of putting it," He chuckled nervously before continuing, his tone becoming flat and regretful. "While it's true that our father wasn't happy with Gillen leaving, it was a bit different for me. Our father tried his best to convince Gillen not to go, stating that he ought to work at the hospital there in town. They talked about it frequently, with some conversations going deep into the night. But no matter how hard he tried, Gillen was determined. Eventually, my father gave in. Unhappy, but willing to respect Gillen's choice, regardless of how he felt."
Gilbert went quiet. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out. As if he knew the words, but didn't know how to deliver them.
"And... What about you?" (y/n) pressed. Despondent, Gilbert continued.
"As the eldest in our family, my father was counting on me to inherit his shop one day. And I had every intention of doing so. So, when I made the last-minute decision to join the Order, our father was... Less than pleased," Gilbert held onto his arm, gripping it as he prepared to continue. "He was furious, demanding that I stay with him and Ludwig at home. As our conversation soon evolved into a screaming match, he said that he didn't want to see my face ever again."
(y/n) gasped, astounded by the harshness of his father's words. Gilbert carried on.
"That's why I feel like Gillen was some of the only family I had left. I still love Ludwig, of course, but I'm assuming he still lives with our father. So I don't feel like I'd be welcome to see him."
"And that's why you clung to Gillen the way you did," (y/n) realized. "It wasn't just because he's your brother, but because you feel as though he's the only family you're free to talk to."
"That about sums it up," Gilbert scratched the back of his neck.
"Gilbert, I understand you're hurt. However, you haven't seen your father in five years. Neither of you have. Perhaps your father has cooled down since then. And if you're so averse to seeing him again, then why are you following us in the first place?"
Gilbert shrugged. "Like you said. I'm lost. I'm not quite sure where to go at this point."
"Well, make a decision soon. Because regardless, we're headed back home," The calm voice of Gillen chimed in.
Surprised, (y/n) turned around to see her betrothed walking up from behind. His long white hair was up in a ponytail so as to keep his neck cool.
Gilbert scrunched his nose. "I don't think that's a good idea for me. Though I don't think going back to the fortress is a good idea either."
"I understand that. Believe me, I do. But that's where we're headed. If you want to travel with us up until then, that's fine. But you should keep in mind that if father asks about you, I will be telling him the truth," Gillen explained with arms crossed over his chest, with eyes that conveyed sympathy.
Gilbert only nodded with a conflicted expression before rising to his feet. As he walked past them to the cart and horses, Gillen gave him some final words.
"It will all work out. Have faith, Gilbert."
Gilbert only spared his brother a small glance, with the tiniest of smiles. But one that was tinged with some amount of anxiety. As Gilbert walked off, Gillen knelt down beside (y/n).
"Are you feeling better, Engel?" He asked, placing the back of his hand to her forehead.
"Yes, I am. Thank you, darling," (y/n) thanked him.
And with that, Gillen scooped up (y/n) in her arms. She yelped and giggled as he began to carry her to the cart.
"Gillen, I can walk by myself. I don't need you to carry me," (y/n) laughed, putting her arms around his neck. Showing that, despite her claims, she obviously enjoyed the feeling.
"I know. I just like doing this," He informed her with no hesitation.
Affectionately, (y/n) gave him a kiss on the cheek. After which a sense of reality set in.
"Wait, Gillen, should you even be carrying me at all? What about your shoulder?"
"Don't worry, (y/n). It's much better now. I'm fine," Gillen reassured her as he set her down at the front of the cart, next to his spot.
Once the couple were on the cart, and Gilbert upon his horse with a healthy dose of anxiety, the three went off. Now only just days away from their destination.
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
I didn't mean for introducing Gilbert back into the plot to turn into a trauma dumping therapy session, but here we are. And this is the end of what I'm calling the second arc of the story. As always, please let me know your thoughts!
#hetalia#aph#aph x reader#hetalia reader insert#aph reader insert#hws reader insert#2p prussia#2p!prussia#2p prussia x reader#2p!prussia x reader#gillen beilschmidt#gilbert beilschmidt
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What if you did a Golden Compass Bot with either Leon or Ethan? I'm curious as to what their Daemon's would be. 🤔
The Golden Compass was literally my favourite book growing up!!! Oddly enough it’s called The Northern Lights over here but hey same thing. I also have done both with a slightly lengthy explanation on reasoning.
For Ethan I was torn between a wolf and a deer, but ultimately I went with a deer specifically an elk. Chris and the other lords all underestimate Ethan throughout Village, referring to him as a civilian or merely a man even though he singlehandedly killed all four lords and destroyed a self proclaimed god. Elks are often viewed as docile and majestic creatures when they can in fact fuck you up big time. I mean have you seen the size of them??? Not to mention how quickly they can run combined with the fact that they grow literal spears from their head. Plus elks are very territorial and protective over their young and when they feel threatened they will not hesitate to charge at humans to protect their herd. They also rely on agility and speed to outrun predators much like Ethan’s perks in the mercenaries mode “assassination dash” and “lightning speed” which are exclusive to him. Deer are typically prey animals and often symbolise sacrifice but also renewal which fits with the themes of Village of Shadows and "Father's sacrifice". In Native American cultures, Elks are symbols of divine protection against evil like how Ethan protected Rose throughout SoR and continues to watch over her. Deer are also the only mammals that can regenerate an organ (their antlers) and scientists are conducting research into how deer stem cells could be used for humans to one day be able to regenerate their own tissue and limbs much like Ethan’s mould abilities.
Bonus thought: It would be pretty cool if after Ethan died in RE:7 and was resurrected by the mutamycete for his daemon to have also undergone some physical changes similar to Chronic Wasting Disease/zombie deer disease. Of course the BSAA would wave off these changes as Ethan’s trauma being projected onto his daemon, but it would be interesting if that were to be the first hint towards Ethan’s mouldiness.
Anyway here’s your first bot.
Ethan Winters x Reader
Snow continues to blanket the city as Ethan makes his way through the lively cobblestone streets. His elk daemon strides gracefully beside him with its head held high and branched antlers reaching out towards the sky. As they continue their journey, their footprints mingle with those of others and their daemons, gradually fading into the bustling rhythm of the city. “This should be the place.” Ethan murmurs just loud enough for his companion to hear when he sees the familiar avenue. The street is bathed in the warm glow of streetlights and cozy windows where he sees you up ahead, currently waiting by a building.
For Leon I went with a wolf as a subtle nod to the wolf in RE:4 though I was also thinking of a panther to be honest). I think Leon’s daemon was able to shapeshift and change forms up until the events of RE:2 where after the events of Raccoon City changed him so much that it ultimately led to its finalised form. Leon's character accurately represents both sides of a wolf. The first side representing their devotion to their pack aka allies and family as well as being social, loyal and dutiful in a similar style to Leon in RE:2, RE:2R, RE:4R and Death island. The second side is a more lone wolf kind, confident and marches to the beat of their on drum while being stand offish like RE:4 and Remake as well as Vendetta Leon. The idea that they are still the same at their core resonates strongly with Leon when both Ada and Krauser comment that he hasn't changed even after Raccoon City.
I think a wolf dog could be an interesting variation to his daemon as it would exaggerate his loyalty and self motivation towards completing his mission, like how he is viewed as the government's lapdog in RE:4R and Infinite Darkness.
And for the second bot
Vendetta!Leon x Reader
The whiskey slides down Leon’s throat with ease, not even with a passing grimace as he signals the bartender for another round. “Finally… A much needed vacation.” Leon muses to no one in particular besides his wolf daemon resting by his legs, its expression as grumpy and downcast as its counterpart. Unfortunately, Leon’s moment of solitude is shattered by the creak of the door swinging open, revealing the last person he expected to follow him all the way here. You. Annoyance flickers across Leon's features, echoed by a low growl from his wolf companion, as you approach him. He knows exactly what’s going to happen here.
#Didnt mean to ramble that much lmao#but I love his dark materials sm!!!#Thank you anon!#ethan winters#ethan winters x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader
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As Morningstar landed, she seemed to call out for something, or perhaps someone.
Poor Morningstar, she was looking for her friend Dusk.
I must be the only man of no Valyrion blood to ride a dragon.
Cregan doesn't know how real his phrase will be, he might be the only northerner who gets to "ride a dragon" 😉🤭
Cregan turned to Daenys before they entered. "If you need anything, tonight, come to me." He whispered to avoid an echo in the hallway.
If it were not for the fact that Cregan is a man known to be very honourable, I would say that he wanted to help Daenys with other "needs" in the middle of the night.
"My betrothed asked me to come to the Queen's council as an advisor. Once my men follow on foot, I will take my leave to lead them." Cregan said, firm and absolute.
Cregan doesn't have to feel threatened, but it's still so nice to want to mark his territory as the alpha wolf of the pack.
Cregan smirked at him, pointedly rubbing the dragoness' snout himself.
Surely Dusk also misses Morningstar and must be sulking knowing that she went to Winterfell and he could not greet her. I can imagine poor Dusk restless at night after Daenys and Morningstar left, he must have been howling to call his dear friend, but she didn't show up. If Cregan misses Daenys, it is obvious that the direwolf misses Morningstar.
Come, Cregan. Show me how Northerners pray. I would quite like to learn, now that I have an opportunity.
Surely Cregan was more than ready and willing to teach another kind of "prayers" to Daenys 😉🤭
"You to stay by my side." He laced their hands together, squeezing once as the feeling and his words made her heart flutter.
Surely Cregan did not want to waste any more time and wanted to marry Daenys at that very moment, taking advantage of the fact that there was a Weirwood.
also alysanne is NOT meant to sound like a bitchy character...
I agree. I am sick and tired of women being portrayed as resentful and hostile bitches just for being leaders during a war, especially when there is a male love interest. A good man will make it clear from the beginning that his affections only belong to you, he will not make you compete with another woman that is just playing with the feelings of both. Women should not fight for any man.
Currently regretting naming the dragon Lightbringer so early on in the story. It would've been so much more fitting if Daenys and Morningstar had earned the title in a battle, instead.
I think it's fine, you shouldn't worry about that. Sunfyre, Aegon's dragon, was called "the golden" because he was the most beautiful dragon Westeros had ever seen. Tessarion, Daeron's dragon is called the "blue queen" because of her scales. None of those dragons earned that nickname in batte, our spoiled girl Morningstar also deserves a tittle after all she looks like a star in the night when she flies. Also Sunfyre and Tessarion may be beautiful dragons, but Morningstar gets extra points for sympathy. Let the girl keep the title.
Dusk and Morningstar breakup arc 🤧
LMAO im glad you noticed that double entendre. save a horse, ride a dragon.
He might secretly hope for it, but alas he is forced to be the honor mascot 😪
He wants everyone to know HIS betrothed wanted him here by her side how cute
Awh hat makes me think of poor Dusk alone with the army. Everyone knows of the wolf being the warg catalyst for their Lord, so they stear clear of giving him affection bc they never know when it'll be Stark or wolf lol
oh he definitely thought of having their wedding right then and there, asking Simon to officiate it and Daemon to give her away. He's only waiting for her own confession.
women should not fight for a MAN ❗️❗️ Firm believer in this, I didn't want to turn it into a cat fight. Also, Alysanne would totally want to go off to battle instead of sit around Harrenhall waiting for ravens. Since she's older than Davos and more experienced and less reckless, Willem let her go instead of his son.
You're so right, actually. I think Meleys is also called the Red Queen simply because she is red and was ridden by a queen. Lightbringer fits her white scales and calm nature.
Tysm for commentating as usual I love these sm 😭😭
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i want to share a piece i wrote during the first black out i experienced in gaza during this ongoing genocide.
With the threat of the ground invasion looming around, all 30-40 people gathered. My aunts relative decided to share stories like ghost stories at a sleepover.
During the 2008 war there were two phases of the ground invasion. Phase I, IDF soldiers came in, they killed and bulldozed at random, they separated women and children and told them to run. They then shot at their feet, “for fun”. Phase II, in some Northern Gaza cities IDF soldiers went door to door rallying every male. My aunts SIL tells her firsthand recount of why her husband is scared. That he and her father-in-law were taken down to the basement in troves, stripped naked, blindfolded and psychologically tortured. Some of the techniques included that the soldiers would call out a name, bring them to a corner, shoot near them, again, “for fun” all while the rest of the men would believe they’ve been killed. They did this for hours, amongst other things.
Ground invasion would be more of a scare some nights than others. Some nights it felt like soldiers would be right outside the door. We joked about barricading the door but my uncle said that would all be for naught as the cement wall was a lot easier to break than the metal door. So unless we were thinking of how to barricade the walls, we were sitting ducks. Not that there was anything to be scared of, of course [insert eyeroll].
War, a testament of man’s faith.
Fear is interesting, throughout a war it manifests differently. Sometimes debilitating, sometimes a myriad of physical manifestations, sometimes only felt deeply when expressed out loud.
October 27, 20:00.
Gaza, a territory, cut off internally and externally. With the bombing of At-Tisal all telecommunication was cut off. A flurry of thoughts plagues your mind. I had family and friends in northern Gaza, I had family on the main road, we were located closest to the eastern border, would they sweep in from the north making us safe or will they come in through the entire border, how long will I have to mentally prepare myself before they’re at our house? Ten, five, three minutes? Will this be Phase I? Merciless killing, which actually when thinking of ground invasion sounds like the most attractive option.
Being a female there is one constant fear. Whether in a warring territory or the safest first world country.
“There’s never been any history of IDF soldiers raping any Gazan.” Oh, thank god. I feel so much better. Sarcastic of course, but also settling in a way. However, I don’t know how true that proclamation was, yet in the moment it was the most comforting thing to hear. So I don’t need to be punched in the face, good to know. My sisters and I talked a lot about that actually, being punched in the face, deforming my face to be unattractive, something women used to do in vietnam and other war zones to avoid being sexual assaulted…
Outside men were gathered, an old radio was pulled out, only one radio station was a available, it was in Hebrew. An old man who was imprisoned countless time and his young adult son began translating. They had invaded, they came in by the north. Al-Shifa hospital was now marked, the largest hospital in Gaza, the hospital I volunteered at the third day of the war, home to over 80,000 displaced. Would they bomb it now? In an hour? Leave it until the last day, keeping everyone in a unique state of fear?
My dad pulled out a Motorola phone from his backpack. Huh? We all looked around in our bags if we had an aux cord headset, my mom finally found one, we plugged it in and radio sound came to life.
Boredom comes with war. That’s not common talked about and probably needs a whole thousand words on it itself for one to grasp the blandness and boredom in war. How does radio work? How do landlines work? Sound waves?
What does a blackout mean? Not only no internet, no way of hearing or reading or seeing what’s going on, but no way of communicating with the people in Gaza. Family and friends, we’re cut off. We have no way of knowing who will live and who will die, which happens every night but there’s a difference when the essence of ground invasion plagues the air.
The radio played all night long, and ever night since.
What to say? We’re alive, we’re safe, nothing happened. Except stuff did happen, not the horrors of ground invasion just the nightly norm. People died, people are dying, streets and cities flattened beyond recognition, more homeless, more displaced.
I connected to the internet. More dead, more injured, more, more, more. Amongst them, a friend. Not having internet was horrible, but off from the world, but when you do connect and all you see is death, death, death you start to avoid connecting anyways.
#save gaza#gaza genocide#stand with gaza#free gaza#gaza#gazaunderfire#i stand with palestine#free palestine#palestine#writing#save palestine#israel is a war criminal#israel is a terrorist state#israhell
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I was really drowsy earlier and i thunk up some lore for my dynastyAU about soundwaves backstory. Buckle up yall this is a long one
Vos is a very large region of cybertron that was split up into four parts in order to make ruling easier. Vos is also one of the last two regions on cybertron that uses a monarchy. It was split up into northern, eastern, southern, and western kingdoms, each with its own ruling family. Eastern Vos is actually the biggest kingdom, both in size, population, and military, as its main focus is security and weapons development. Starscream, his trine, and most of the other seekers originate from eastern Vos, with Starscream being the last ruler before his whole power hungry usurping of the rest of Vos and the start of the great war.
Eastern, western, and northern Vos are completely cut off from the rest of cybertron and do not allow outsiders into their territory. They only allow trade and communication between the other parts of Vos and with other Vosians. Northern Vos is a lot more lenient with this policy as apposed to western and eastern Vos as both kingdoms see cross communication as treason and the punishment for being caught is severe. Southern Vos is vastly different and the rulers actually encourage interactions with other cybertronians.
Southern Vos was ruled by Empress Skyline. Long story short, she fell in love with a grounder before she was crowned Empress and after she ran away and had their first sparkling together she was found and brought back home. The grounder, a mech named Chambertune, snuck i to Vos to rescue here and was also caught, no surprise there, and was about to be executed when Skyline came running in and put herself between the excecutioner and her conjunx. She argues with her parents, theres an emotional moment, Chambertune is released, and for her bravery and idk true spark or something, shes crowned Empress as her parents retire from ruling and make Chambertune the royal ambassador and he deals with customs or something. Basically they put him in charge of opening the borders and integrating their society. Fun times yay.
So they had their first child, her name is Hurricane (theres a reason why please just trust me), while Skyline was in her running away era, and after she ascended to the throne, her and Chambertune proceeded to have six more sparklings over the course of several million years. Soundwave was the very last sparkling they had together. In this AU he also ends up working for Senator Ratbat but there is a lot that happens before that.
What i meant when i said Starscreams power hungry usurping of the rest of Vos, is that this dude went absolutely apeshit. The second he was crowned Winglord, all he wanted was more power. I wanna be clear that he is not a bad guy. Hes just incredibly spoiled and his entire childhood was his parents constantly feeding his ego about when he would finally be the ruler of eastern vos. Hes like 19-20 when hes put in charge. But once he got the throne it was horrifyingly anticlimactic. He expected to feel a lot more than he actually did and it was upsetting. He spent years yearning for this power and then once he got it, it wasnt enough. So the gears in his dumb little brain began to turn and he schemed an honestly terrible idea but bc he was Winglord, no one was brave enough to tell him other wise, not even his own brothers.
His plan was to take over the other nations of Vos. Spoiler alert, he did it. Vos was unified into one again. The ruling familys were taken captive and if they didnt bow to him, they were removed from the equation. His biggest problem was Southern Vos. Because of how they had been integrating their society for millennium before he was even created, half of the population was comprised of grounders. This didnt bode well with his ideal kingdom of Vos so he set his military wild. What they did to Southern Vos was genocide. They took the fliers and killed the grounders. The hybrids and halfbreeds were kept alive in hopes of breeding out the grounder genes.
Empress Skyline, Chambertune, and their three eldest children fought Starscreams military off the best they could while the younger four children fled the kingdom. They were unfortunately, spotted by a lost soldier, who reported to a general about the four escapees. That same lost soldier fire two rockets at them, intending to block their path but hit too close to them and knocked two of the kids out. The oldest of the four, who was not knocked unconscious, stopped to check on the younger two while Soundwave, a bit disoriented and dizzy, ran in a random direction. His brother saw him run but he was too far away to hear his call. As he reached the border, a stray rocket him close to him and the shockwave knocked him across. The blast also hit his left side and messed up a lot of wires and connectors in his processors, knocking him out and giving him amnesia and reducing his processing ability, leaving him mostly mute.
then it pretty much follows the idw backstory with him being found and taken in by ravage, buzzsaw, and laserbeak. I havent thunken how to weave in his telepathy but i have somewhat of an idea. In this au, outlier abilities are a mutation. that mutation gene, in rare cases, can be passed down genetically to offspring. Its more likely for a sparkling to have an outlier ability if both parents have the mutation gene. In this case, Chambertune has that mutation gene but Skyline does not. Out of their 7 offspring, only 3 of them, have the gene. Is a lot more than usual but thats only bc an ancestor of Skyline had a very weak outlier ability that was only usable when he was in danger. Hurricane is one of them (her original name was changed once her outlier ability developed), Soundwave of course is another, and i havent decided on a name for the last outlier child but his power is one of my favorites.
yeah yeah so hes found by those three, he spends a little while with them, then in a little stealing from the rich stunt, he gets caught by senator ratbat cuz it was his place they were stealing from. Ravage, bs, and lb are able to get away bur soundwave isnt so lucky. Ratbat finds out about his telepathy (hes got like three different powers but those dont show up until later) and decides “hey ur useful! Mine now” and adopts him. Hes a terrible person and an even worse dad but we’re not getting into that right now.
but yeah thats like the gist of the lore. Some of it is still in development so im open to suggestions for a few things, one of which is names for soundwaves 5 other siblings (two femmes, three mechs), and also maybe a better resolution for Skyline reconnecting with her parents and becoming Empress bc i have not thought that era through
#transformers#transformers au#dynasty!au#soundwave#transformers soundwave#tf headcanons#starscream#this au runs deep#this is wayyy in the past but it’s important in the future#no one asked but im sharing anyway#vos
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CHAPTER THREE : BROKEN NOSES ARE A GREAT CONVERSATION STARTER
A/N: thank you guys for reading hiraeth! This chapter is longer than the last, but i’m not to sure if i’m happy with it as much… However, Winnie’s back story gets explained slightly more so yay!
Word Count: 2.7k
Content Warnings: descriptions of war related wounds, PTSD, blood, violence, my horrible writing of dialogue for certain characters, probable OOC
< previous chapter > - < next chapter >
After Eugene Roe, brazenly reset her nose, and Winnie had again showered. She found herself sitting on the steps to the barracks. Cigarette in hand, she smoked, even though she knew if her mother saw her right now, she’d pull her by the ear and smack across the back of the head. But she wasn’t here. So Winnie sat listening to the crickets chirping under the Georgian sky.
The sun set two hours ago, all that was left was the inky black of the sky, spotted with small stars. She couldn’t make out any constellations, the southern cross wasn’t all too present this far away from home. She liked to think that maybe back home, her siblings and parents were looking up at the same stars, wondering what life was like on the other side like she was. But, maybe that was her just being hopeful.
Somewhere between the end of her first cigarette and the start of her second, the door of the barracks creaked open. The planks groaning under the weight of this new person. Without turning her head, Winnie took another drag of her cigarette.
“Alright if i sit with you again?” a soft voice sounds from behind her
Looking back with a small smile, Winnie gives a small nod, and turns back to look out at the sky.
“You don’t gotta sit with me” she answers, tapping the butt of her cigarette “or pretend to be my friend ‘cause you feel bad”
The stars were out in numbers tonight, not a cloud in the sky.
“I ain’t doing nothing cause i feel bad” Shifty frowns as he sits beside her
Releasing a short huff of air out of her nose, Winnie takes another drag, before turning to look at him, really look at him.
“Sorry” she mumbles “for assumin’. I get the feeling most people around here don’t want me here”
Shifty shuffles slightly in his spot, taking to looking up at the sky rather than at Winnie. She can tell by the way he fiddles with his fingers, he’s nervous.
“Well, i guess i ain’t most people” He turns to look at Winnie “i figured if you can beat us all up currahee… and can fight, i got no problem with you bein’ here”
Winnie gives him a soft smile, stamping out her cigarette with a nod
“That’s… really nice to hear, thank you Shifty”
The two sit in silence, listening to the crickets chirp. The door to the barracks open again, floorboards creaking under the weight.
“How’s the nose?” a southern drawl breaks the silence
Winnie and Shifty both look behind them, making eye contact with Eugene.
“Still on my face” her lip quirking slightly
“What happened to your nose?” Shifty asks confused
“Broke it” she answers bluntly “doc here had to reset it”
“Well are you alright? how did you break it?” Shifty’s tone is quite frantic. It was nice to have someone care about you, even if you just met them.
“She’ll be fine, it’s back in place” Eugene answers slowly
“Passed out running currahee” Winnie gives a small smile and a nod at Shifty, reassuring the man that, yes, she would be fine “but, it’s not the worst wound i’ve had, im sure i’ll survive a broken nose”
The worst wound, to heal by far was the bullet that went through her torso, missing her major organs, apparently bursting an appendix. it was a miracle Winnie had survived, given that the doc was a weasily man from up far northern territory, and had barely passed highschool. The most constant was the wound on her right knee, a piece of shrapnel slicing through, sometimes the nerves in her knee pinch, when it’s too cold, or she’s over worked.
But psychologically? the wound on her cheek held the most pain. Nightmares, and flashes of the man hell bent on taking her life that night. The wound itself wasn’t all too painful, a sharp knife slices through skin and muscle like it’s melted butter. Sometimes she can still smell the hot breath of the Nazi soldier when the cooks make beans. Sometimes the sound of metal makes her body tense, muscles freezing impossibly tight. It wasn’t luck that saved Winnie that night, it was the work of a rabid dog forced to chew of its own leg to be set free, cornered by a force bigger and stronger, barring teeth and biting flesh.
“…Winnie?” Shifty’s voice is soft, like the way one soothes a wild animal, was he scared of her like she was of herself?
“Sorry… what?” she breaks her stare at the grass, brown and dehydrated.
“I asked if you was alright?” He looks at her with worry
Turning her head to look at both men, Winnie nods
“I’m fine, sorry… just remembered something” she waves a hand like it was no big deal
“i hope you don’t mind my asking” Shifty asks “did you serve before this… is that what you’re remembering?”
Winnie winces slightly, having people know she served usually never ended up well for her. Either they believed she was a liar woman can’t serve, stop playing pretend and let the real soldiers get the honours, shame on your father for allowing a girl to serve in his place or they all wanted to know what it was like, what she had seen, felt.
“Something like that” she winces
Eugene stands closest to the door of the barrack, silently taking in the scene, Shifty stares at Winnie, a look of shock on his face
“Is that why you’re so good at runnin’?” Shifty breaks the silence first “you know, with all the gear and everything aswell”
A short huff of air is the response, before she decides to give a proper answer
“Yeah, had to get good at running and carrying things” she confirms
“You ain’t from around here are you?”
“Not even close, australia.” she smiles proudly
“What’s it like?” Shifty asks with genuine interest
Winnie looks out at the pitch black sky and sighs
“I’ll tell ya what, it’s late and i’m sure we have to be up early, i’ll tell you at breakfast” Winnie smiles. It wasn’t a question, she would tell him tomorrow, not tonight.
“I’d like that” he smiles giddily “the doc too?”
“If that’s what he wants” Winnie confirms, looking up at Eugene
——
Winnie did not end up telling Shifty and Doc about Australia the next morning. Easy company, curtesy of Sobel, we’re woken at the ass of dawn, and dragged up currahee. Thankfully, not in full packs.
Under the early morning sun, post currahee run. Sobel had told easy company to stand in a group around the large grassy area near the barracks. In rows, each soldier stood with their chins tilted up and waiting with baited breaths for their next instructions
“Lieutenant Winters, do you know as to why we are standing in the field today?” bellows Sobel’s voice. Like nails on a chalk board
Lieutenant Winters shifts his gaze towards Sobel, a look of hesitation in his eyes as he answers
“To fight, sir” as bluntly as usual, he answers
“Correct. Today Easy company will undergo the art of hand to hand combat.” Sobel’s voice
When Winnie made eye contact with Sobel, her body began tingling with nerves. His small smirk and vengeful glint in his eyes told Winnie all she needed to know. This was going to hurt.
“I will pair you up, and you will do your best to get the other man to the ground” He lets his announcement hang in the air “by any means necessary, until they tap out ”
Whispers erupted from around Winnie as she took to manually breathing. She was confident in her fighting ability. She can fight, has fought men twice her size before. But when her CO is actively scheming to send her back to her poor mother in a casket? That’s a whole new level.
“When i state your name, find an open area and wait for your next instructions” Lieutenant Winters spoke. For a man in position of power, he spoke firmly yet not harshly, like he knew we respected him, even without the bravado.
“Malarky and Luz” Winters calls out names, most of the men had partners, except for Winnie, two smaller men she learnt are Perconte and Muck… and a muscular man with a frown that she thinks is permanent on his face.
Give me Muck or Perconte, give me a small person to start. Winnie had her eyes screwed shut, fingers crossed behind her back.
“Toye and…” Winters lets out a sorrowful sigh “Hayes”
shit. this is really going to hurt.
——
Toye and Winnie stand opposite each other. Sizing each other up before their fight. Sure she had experience, but he was bigger and stronger and probably pissed, if the look on his face was anything to go by.
“When i say so, you and your partner will partake in hand to hand combat. And you will not stop until either one of you taps out or in the case of a blackout.” Sobel’s voice carries over the group. “you may use any body part in aiding your victory”
Beside Winnie and Toye, on their right was Shifty and Talbert, the former staring at Winnie, his eyes downturned as he frowned in worry.
Rolling her shoulders with a deep, shaking sigh, she runs through a mental checklist. He’s bigger, which means he could be slower, but given the way he stands he looks like he’s seen a few fights. If i can get him to the floor, i’d have to make sure to not be the one on the ground.
“You may begin.” Sobel smirks as he directs his eyes towards the small Australian.
——
Toye and Winnie exchanged nods, both pulling their hands into closed fists.
“I don’t wanna hurt you” Winnie sighed
“I wouldn’t worry about it doll” he smirks, voice raspy.
Winnie rolls her eyes, as they start to circle each other.
He throws the first punch. Winnie dodges, too slow. His fist makes contact with her chin, pain blossoming in her jaw. With a slight wince, Winnie jabs out with her left fist, her weak hand, with a small tap to his chest
“Come on sweetheart, that all you got?” he taunts with a smirk
Winnie narrows her eyes, and clenches her fists
“Fine.” she huffs, cracking her neck.
Jabbing out her right hand, she makes contact with his cheek. Toye retaliates with another punch to her jaw. The two trade punches back and forth. Many of the men had finished their fight, now watching on as Winnie and Toye found their selves on the floor.
He has her locked into a headlock. Winnie squirms to free her arm, swinging it back into his stomach. She sees men out of the corner of her eye exchanging money and placing bets
“Come on Joe, you gonna let her get you like that?” comes from a loud mouthed man
Sobel and Winters push through the crowd forming, The formers eyes glaring down at Toye and Winnie fighting in the dirt. Winnie has her chest to the ground and armed pinned behind her back, With an armed wrapped around her neck.
She heaves. Chest constricting as she fights to get the hand away from her neck. panicked.
German soldier. Knife. Scar. Dirty uniform. i can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. fight back, fight back!
Her eyes widen, tears collecting as she twists and squirms
“Come on doll, tap out.” Toye grumbles “you ain’t gonna win this one”
Her chest shudders and heaves as the half intakes of air cause her lungs to burn.
“what’s a pretty thing like you doing here”. Teeth flashing, in a predatory grin. The course sand on my back and the moon shining brightly, so beautiful despite the horrors she sees from her chair in the sky.
“She just fuckin’ bit me!” he yells
The tangy metallic coats her tongue as she scrambles backwards. Chest heaving as the world around her becomes mere background noise, eyes widening and darting around her surroundings. The blood drips from her chin onto her training shirt. out. out. out.
Unsteadily she stands, shaky breaths and wobbling knees. The looks of horror on the faces of the easy men blur together
“-nie?” a soft voice calls, Shifty, a hand carefully placed on her shoulder
“Don’t fucking touch me” her voice shakes, eyes red rimmed with tears as she bats the hand away.
She needed to get out. Backing away in horror to what she had done, she ran, ignoring the angry calls of her name, and the curses at her actions. Tears burning in her eyes, and blood smeared on her face.
——
Her knees gave out somewhere near the barracks she had never been to. A hidden place between the barracks and the tree line, Winnie kneeled over on her hands and knees, heaving up what little food she had eaten that morning.
Tears steaks down her flushed cheeks, as she shakes uncontrollably. get it together. Her shoulders shake as she takes deep breaths, her chin stained a slight red.
She falls back, sitting amongst the grass and trees, pulling her legs up to her chest, she lays her head against her knees as she stares out at the wildlife. Her cheeks red, tear marks stained down to her chin, leaving lines through the dried blood. she was a rabid dog who couldn’t control herself, all instincts telling her to bite instead of bark.
A cool breeze settled around the camp. The late afternoon weather change starting to draw in. She’d sat out in the brush for twenty minutes before she was found.
“I’m assuming you’re the ‘Hayes’ they’ve been looking for?” A man’s voice calls out
Hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks and scrubbing the blood off her chin with the back of her hand, as much as she could anyway, she turns to stare up at him
“I suppose i am” she mumbles
He was tall, and handsome. A frown etched onto his face, as he plucks out a cigarette and lights it
“You… uh got some…” he wipes at his own chin
For such a handsome man, one would think he was able to hold a conversation
“I don’t bite… you can sit” Winnie mumbles
“That’s not what i’ve heard” his lip ticks at the corner slightly
Winnie’s body freezes, jaw clenching tightly as she looks up with widening eyes
“I- well-“ she stutters
“I’m pulling your leg kid” he states, sitting down a good foot away from her
Winnie nods absently, wiping harshly at the blood on her chin, now clear of the remnants of her fight.
“How bad?” she asks softly, playing with her fingers
“Hmm?” he muses “his finger is still attached and functioning if that is what you are implying.”
“Good… that’s good” she nods “don’t want people to think i’m some sort of… psychopath who bites off peoples fingers”
“The way i see it, nothing wrong with people being scared of you” he smirks “even tertius knew the value of being feared”
Winnie freezes and stares up at the man with sad eyes
“I don’t want people to be scared of me” she whispers “i just want them to like me… i just want to make friends here, not make people afraid”
The man gives a small frown, one she assumes is rare for the stern looking soldier
“Ron” he nods around a puff of his cigarette before offering it to Winnie
“Excuse me?” she raises an eyebrow, hesitantly taking the cigarette
“If you want friends, you need to know their name, no? unless that has changed” he supplies
Winnie takes a puff of the cigarette and hands it back with a thankful smile
“it’s nice to meet you Ron” she smiles “everyone calls me Winnie.”
maybe, just maybe, she could survive this war.
——
A/N: HI! thank you for reading chapter three of hiraeth! i hope it didnt disappoint! :)) ALSO: you can pry rabid dog imagery from my cold dead hands.
TAG LIST: @malarkgirlypop @mads-weasley @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @grumpy-liebgott @executethyself35
#hireath#blue *• hiraeth#hiraeth fic#hiraethoc#band of brothers#babe heffron#ronald speirs#bandofbrothers#dick winters#eugene roe#george luz#hbowar#band of brothers#donald malarkey#band of brothers fanfiction#band of brothers fic
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More of Story of Kunning Palace novel. This has spoilers for the princess' fate in the 1st life, which hasn't been revealed yet on the show. It also discusses her sexuality.
She is clear about the future fate of the Eldest Princess Leyang.
After the Yongyihou Mansion, which was originally in charge of the military power, was implicated in the old case of King Pingnan and exiled, within two months the northern Tatars were ready to move, claiming that the new king would succeed to the throne, and wanted to ask Dagan to marry the princess as his concubine. But the emperor did not want to use Yongyihou Mansion again and sent Princess Leyang to marry.
Four years later, the Tatars had finished recharging their energy, and they completely invaded with troops.
The civil and military forces of the Manchu Dynasty only welcomed back the coffin of the princess.
At that time, the emperor had changed to Shen Jie. In his grief, he overturned Shen Lang's conviction, rehabilitated the Yongyihou's mansion, and enabled Yan Lin, who had been exiled for four years. Yan Lin finally got his chance. He led his troops to quell the border chaos, expelled the Tatars, and killed the barbarians until they dared not cross the Dagan territory.
After that, it was Jiang Xuening's "disaster".
She remembered that when they first met in the previous life, she was dressed as a man, but she saw that Shen Zhiyi cared too much about the scar on her face, so she took the fine pen that others used to trace lanterns at the lantern festival, dipped in a little cherry powder, and put it on. She had drawn on that scar under her left eye.
At that time, Shen Zhiyi mistook her for a man and had feelings for her.
Later, the princess found out that she was a woman, so naturally couldn't bear it.
But before going to Tatar to get married, the princess specially invited Jiang Xuening to paint on her the same makeup as when they first met, and then sat quietly in front of the makeup mirror, looking at the delicate face in the mirror, but two lines of tears flowing across her cheeks.
After Shen Zhiyi left, Jiang Xuening asked herself many times: If there was another chance, would you still draw that stroke for her when you first met?
There was no answer.
She thought she wouldn't.
But now, when Shen Zhiyi stood in front of her alive again, and she really had such an opportunity, Jiang Xuening realized that her answer was: I will.
[ guys..... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭]
.....
It's just that when she concentrated her eyes and looked back, she saw Shen Zhiyi's eyes staring at her at this moment, and suddenly her scalp went numb!
This look...
How can it be the same as the previous life? !
She subconsciously looked down at what she was wearing: it was indeed a woman's dress.
But why this look..?
In the blink of an eye, an unprecedented idea suddenly appeared in Jiang Xuening's mind, which made her tremble all over, and couldn't help but arouse a series of goosebumps—
Who said that in the previous life, Princess Leyang must have fallen in love with her because she disguised herself as a man?
It is not necessarily impossible for the same situation to have another explanation—
That is, seeing her dressed as a man, but with a feminine look, so she is drawn to her but the eldest princess herself may not know it!
If it is like this…
Jiang Xuening's finger, which was still clinging to the paintbrush before it could be put down, suddenly became stiff.
#story of kunning palace#cdrama#silvia reads sokp#to be clear#the reason she is freaked#is same as in the drama#the princess falling in love w her#ended up with her being an enemy in the palace#that “i will” just TOOK ME OUT#i may never recover#tears!
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Prefacing this post with, as always, it's completely okay if you don't agree or like this headcanon! It's something I've been wanting to elaborate more on, but have been hesitant to, because I know Jill's situation of being taken to Rosaria as a child is a bit of a touchy topic. It's never my intention to step on anyone's toes! So if any Jill RPers have their own headcanons they want to incorporate into our interactions regarding how negotiations with her father went, please feel free to let me know, and we can work with those!
But the subject is an important one to my muse, and I don't want to brush it aside, both good or bad aspects. Plus sharing it is meant to shed some light on how my muse thinks, and how his decisions are made -- which plays into how he is as a ruler.
The conflicts between Rosaria and the Northern Territories weren't a recently-developed thing at the point in time when Elwin led his campaign into the North. They had been going on for decades at the absolute least -- so when Elwin took the throne, he was essentially inheriting a nation that could be dragged back into war at the drop of a pin, with a long-standing history of blood and fighting against their neighbors to the north. In fact, when Elwin led that campaign, it was because the north was invading Rosarian territory.
An important fact about my Elwin is that he is, most of the time, very future-driven. All of his decisions and actions are carefully planned out with the future in mind, rather than the present; he believes very passionately that building a better Rosaria -- and world as a whole -- isn't meant to benefit him or his generation. It's for the generations after, for the youths who would otherwise carry the weight of war left by their forefathers, and for the generations yet to come.
In short, he's all about setting the brickwork for foundations of change. Or a better comparison is, planting seeds! He's planting seeds that, over time and with cultivation, will grow and blossom.
Taking Jill to Rosaria wasn't just about keeping the Northern Territories from attacking the duchy. It was, perhaps more importantly, about fostering good, friendly relations between the two territories. My Elwin's hope was that the personal friendship between Jill and Joshua + Clive would carry on well after Joshua had taken the throne, and would inspire their peoples to come together as well. Jill is, after all, a princess, and by all rights should have at least some influence in political matters in her homeland.
It was never his intention to keep her from seeing her family again, nor to keep her from returning home. It was never his intention to strip her of her heritage, culture, traditions, everything from her home in favor of Rosarian ones; she wasn't intended to convert her entire way of life to that of Rosaria's. She was a ward of House Rosfield, yes, but not a political prisoner(as was my thought back when I first made this blog). She was meant to be more of a foreign exchange student, you could say. She would learn about the duchy and its people, and in turn, the boys would learn about the Northern Territories and their people.
My muse is very respectful when it comes to other nations, within reason. He does not, and never has, believed in conquest and subjugation. Even when it comes to war and fighting in general, he chooses it only as a last resort, or when defending his homeland. When it came to the fighting with the north, his final campaign was not necessarily about strong-arming King Warrick into withdrawing his men from Rosarian soil and laying down their arms against the duchy. It was about treating for peace. It was about negotiating terms that benefited both nations, ensuring that both would be left in a better position and that they could reach understanding to the point of working together.
Perhaps, one day, they could forge an outright alliance.
Taking Jill to Rosaria, in my headcanons, was not a forced, one-sided matter, although it was, yes in my opinion, unfair to Jill regardless. Not to mention that, just like with Clive and Joshua, it forced her to carry the weight of her homeland's future on her shoulders. But this decision was something that both Elwin and her father had agreed upon, after King Warrick listened to Elwin's plans for the future, rather than Elwin forcing him to submit and accept the terms. After all, the lore tidbit about Elwin's campaign into the north uses terms like "pacifying" the Northern Territories, and "uniting" them. It was about ending the fighting, both with Rosaria and among the Northern Territories' various groups as well.
I understand if individual Jill RPers don't agree with this, and have their own headcanons on the subject of what happened; I'm willing to compromise for interactions with your muse regarding the negotiations with Silvermane and my muse, just let me know it's something you'd like altered! My muse's motives, however, will always remain the same, no matter what -- they're a core part of who he is and how he operates.
Tl;dr, there's a reason for everything he does!
#Headcanons#I'm so sorry this is so long alkfjdgl#But yeah! Hopefully this sheds some light on how my muse operates!
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Bertalan Székely (Hungarian, 1835-1910) Woman of Eger, 1867 Hungarian National Gallery On 29 September, 1552, an army of 70,000 Turks gathered at Szolnok and went on to attack the castle of Eger. The defenders of the castle numbered all together 2000, including serfs with no understanding of warfare, and many women and children. Nevertheless, the defenders of the castle, under the leadership of István Dobó, repelled the attacks, and on 18 October, the Turks retreated from the castle. The most famous contemporary account of the heroic defence of the castle was Sebestyén “Lantos” Tinódi’s ballad of 1553, the Fight for the Castle of Eger. Mihály Horváth called attention to the role of women in the siege in his 19th -century work. In his composition, Bertalan Székely wanted to express the Hungarians’ disadvantage in the struggle, as he describes it in his journal. By depicting the central female figure with the attackers in front of her and the castle in flames behind her, he evokes a feeling of true heroism, while creating an eternal symbol of patriotic sacrifice. - Iván Boldizsár explains the historical background to Székely’s Women of Eger: “In the sixteenth century, when the Turks had conquered the greater part of Hungary, Eger became the protecting bulkwark of the northern regions. After Buda, the capital, had fallen to the Turks, they tried to extend their dominion northwards to the Carpathians in order to carry through outflanking movements towards Vienna in the west and the southern territories of Poland in the east. Eger already had a fortress, built by Italian experts in fortification, to guard the valley which was the natural line of advance to the north. It was on these walls that the memorable battle for the defense of Eger was fought. A garrison of not more than two thousand, under István Dobó, resisted the challenge of a Turkish force said to be a hundred and fifty thousand strong. The citizens of Eger fought with dauntless courage, and when the fort seemed to be in danger of capitulation, the women joined the battle, gurling down cauldrons of boiling water and tar against the onrushing enemy. The struggle was finally crowned with victory, and the Turks turned back. This great feat has passed into literature. Not only dies every schoolchild in Hungary learn of it, but works of fiction have been written round it, among them the popular ’Stars of Eger’ by Géza Gárdonyi, a lasting work of Hungarian youth literature…. The fortress consists of a hill enclosed by massive walls, and honeycombed with underground passages at three different levels. It was this complicated system of underground defenses which enabled the defenders to face an enemy of vastly superior strength….Here and there are recesses in the walls of the corridors. During the siege sentinels sat here watching peas placed on a drum. The trembling of the peas showed where the Turks were beginning to undermine the walls, and by this simple device the defenders could know when to take measures to avert the danger by drilling counter-mines.“
#Bertalan Székely#hungarian art#hungary#woman of eger#art#fine art#classical art#european art#serbia#world history#art history#europe#european#warfare#war#western civilization#eger#hungarians#oil painting#woman of eger 1867
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