#anyway I am preparing good husbands for many women is what I’m doing

[itspileofgoodthings]

my favorite type of students to teach are teenage boys who are very, very quiet, very smart in a math-science way, and have no sisters.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Nine

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence, 

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Another chapter is finished!! I’ve got an idea but it’s SO DANGEROUS AND Y’ALL MIGHT HATE ME IF I DO IT BUT ITS SO TEMPTING AND I THINK I’M GONNA DO IT ahem anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/n 2: I’m posting this before work so I’ll reply to asks and comments when I get home tonight! Also, I’ve got the next part of Gangsta written up if y’all want that.... hehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How have you been adjusting to this new home?” Thor asks one morning, a smile on his face. You grin back at him, the weight of Acadia lifted off your shoulders as you take a sip of your tea.

“Quite well. Although Loki has been an interesting addition.” The raven-haired man looks up from his book momentarily and gives you a look, to which you only smile.

From the moment you entered the cottage you knew it would be good for you to stay here.

“Well, we are at your disposal. I will have to go back to Asgard within the weeks to come, but Loki and the Valkyrie shall remain here should you need or want them.” You nod gratefully, looking out the window and pursing your lips as you watch the women spar outside.

“What? What is it?” Thor asks, following your gaze.

“I want to learn to defend myself. To wield a sword and fight off an attacker.” Loki scoffs from where he sits, his nose still buried deep in his book.

“For what reason should a queen wish to learn to fight? You will always have men for that.” Your defence is up in an instant, and you clench your jaw before composing yourself enough to reply.

“I do think that considering both my upbringing and the way I have been treated in my new kingdom, I have every right to want to learn to defend myself. I have many reasons to want to defend myself, none of which concern you, however, if you had the slightest idea of all that I have endured in my short time as queen you would not question me wanting to learn to defend myself. I have been shunned from my palace because my husbands fear someone will kill me. My own husbands have brought me far more pain than I would like to admit. I have every right to wish to learn how to defend myself and I will not hear a word from you about the subject!”

His brows raise to nearly his hairline and he looks between you and his brother before burying his nose back in his book, which elicits a chuckle from the blond king.

“If the situation is so severe that I need be sent away for my own safety, I need to learn to defend myself.”

Thor nods, a strong hand patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“I knew there was a fire in you. I could see it in those eyes when you spoke of running from the Kings. I just needed to find it.” He rises to his feet and straightens his clothing. “Loki does have a special talent for pulling the fire from even the most docile creatures. But I will go speak with the valkyrie. They will be delighted to have a student to train.”

He leaves the cottage to interrupt the sparring outside, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the first piece of control that you will have over your life.

~*~

“If that will be all, You are dismissed,” King Steven says, his voice low and exhausted. The royal adviser bows then heads to the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I cannot help but notice the absence of the Queen. Where has she gone?” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten the question in the week that you've been gone, therefore they already have their excuse rehearsed and perfected.

“We simply have no use for her. If she cannot even bear our children then what use is she to us?” Comes Steve’s practiced response.

“We were instructed to find a queen who could produce strong heirs. Our wife cannot. So she is no longer of use to us,” James adds, his voice dripping in boredom as he looks over a document on his desk.

The royal advisor nods then excuses himself, bustling to his own office with newfound haste and purpose.

“It’s been a week and we are no closer to finding who it is than we were when she was here,” Steve murmurs after a long moment of silence, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their decision.

“I’m beginning to question whether it was a good decision to send her along with Thor. Especially after he threatened to make her a queen of his own. What if she were to agree?” James stands up and walks over to his husband, taking his shaking hands in his own and sighing.

“I would not blame her if she were to agree. We have treated her like a prisoner. I have... brutalized her and beaten her and I will never be able to repent. If she were to want him I would in no way blame her. He has provided her with a safe haven. She can confide in him and trust him in a way that she may not be able to again with us.” Steve sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We need to find who it is that has caused this and we need to make them pay.” James nods, smoothing his thumbs over the back of his husband’s hands.

“We will. But until we do, we must remain strong. The Doctor is recovering and when he is fully recovered we will ask him who it was that attacked him. We will find who is behind this, but we must be patient.”

~*~

“Again!” You raise your sword just in time to block a blow from one of the Valkyrie, grinding your teeth together as you push her back a step then swipe your own sword at her throat.

She hops backward, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You are learning, Your Majesty. But you still hold back. Why? You cannot be afraid to hurt us,” The Captain says, walking forward and looking at you closely.

“You must show no mercy. Not when you must choose between your own life and the life of someone who means to do you harm. You will fight and you will fight to the death.”

Your entire body is burning with the exertion but you hold your ground, raising your sword and ready to go again.

“That’s what I like to see! Now, we go again!” Brunnhild exclaims, a grin on her face as she takes her fighting stance.

It’s just over two weeks since you began your training and everyone is surprised at how quickly you’re picking up on what’s being taught, but none more than you.

You’re just stepping out of the bath, muscles aching with a new type of strength that the Valkyrie have been beating into you, when your eyes catch a glimpse of movement at the window to your bedroom. A figure clad in all black is moving swiftly away from the cottage and disappearing into the darkness of woods, the setting sun aiding in the camouflage of the person.

Thinking that it’s none other than Loki going to wreak havoc on some poor defenceless wanderers, you don’t question it. Instead, you get dressed into a soft Asgardian gown and start preparing yourself for bed.

You’re just about ready to settle down with a book when a flash of white catches your eye from the window. You hesitantly investigate, heart hammering in your chest as you see a letter tucked securely in the window.

You open it and snatch the envelope before it can be taken by the wind, then shut the window again.

The seal on the envelope is that of Acadia, and your heart is in your throat as you realize that this could very well be a letter from the Kings. You’ve no idea what it may say, and cannot decide if you are more nervous or excited as you open it.

The script is not one you recognize, but your eyes greedily devour every word, the smile fading from your face at what lies on the page in your hand.

Thor finds you sometime later seated on the floor, the letter gripped tightly in your hands and your eyes focused on a point on the wall.

“(Y/n?” He asks softly, knocking against the doorframe to try and get your attention. You make no indication that you’ve heard him.

He enters the room, brows furrowed as he sees what you’re holding. “What is that? What does it say? Is it from the Kings?”

It takes a very long moment, but eventually, you find the strength to speak. But even then your voice is a weak rasp.

“Did you know the truth? Did you hide it from me as well?” Thor is beyond confused as he approaches you, taking the page from you and reading through the contents quickly.

‘Your Majesty,

Do not ask who I am nor how I know where you are, just know that you need be more careful who it is you call your lovers. They have sent you away, not for your own protection but because you failed at the task they wanted you for. They have sent you away because you failed to bear their children, this I promise I have heard with my own ears. I know not what they have told you but it is what I have witnessed. They have said this directly and I have heard it with my very own ears. You would do well to stay away from them, for they are dangerous. But I am certain that you and your late child are more than aware of that.

Consider this a warning, your majesty, for I know you are unsafe. You must take care and be far more careful of who you allow in your court.’

“Loki!” The prince is in the room within the same moment, his eyes full of confusion.

“Have the Valkyrie secure the area and find me the man who sent this! Travel to Acadia and alert the Kings. The Queen is no longer safe here.”

You’re confused. If the kings have directly told someone this, why then is Thor responding in such a way?

Loki is on horseback heading towards Acadia only moments later, and Thor is leaving the room as soon as the Valkyrie enter.

Brunnhild crouches next to you, a frown on her face as she glances at the note on the floor, its words echoing in your ears.

“Do not allow this to scare you, Your majesty. Do not give them the satisfaction of that.” You scoff and shake your head at her, “it is far easier said than done. All my life I have been punished for ever speaking, much less standing my ground. I have perfected the art of cowering, for men wish to do nothing but hurt and maim all so they can gain power.”

She sits down and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You forget that we are all brought into this world through blood and through pain, your Majesty. We are the daughters of savage women. We are their savage daughters and we will act like it. We will bite and scream and we will take up space. We will not conform to their ideas of what women should be.” Her words are whispered into the still air of the room as if she were hiding them from any listening ears.

“Do not lower your voice for any man. Do not cower beneath them. You are a powerful being. One that can create life and you can also take it away, never forget that.” She pulls a dagger off of her belt and hands it to you, curling your fingers around the hilt before she continues speaking.

“You have the blood of goddesses and witches flowing through your veins. You hold a power that men could never understand. With every step we take, every time we refuse to cower... we honour our mothers, our grandmothers, and the ones before them. The ones who stood and fought and were torn to pieces. We will not be silenced. You will not be silenced. You are more powerful than that. You must remember your strength and your power. Do not let the men convince you that you are anything less than what you are.”

Your eyes sting and your throat gets tight, but she only hugs your shoulders and continues speaking.

“Your power is what scares them. Why else would they try to assert their dominance in such a way? But you will not fall. You will not allow them to treat you like that because you are the daughter of a savage. You are yourself a savage woman and you will act like it. Royal title be damned.”

You sniffle once, twice, three times, then nod, wiping your eyes just as Thor re-enters the room.

The Valkyrie take their leave and the King sighs, crouching down next to you and gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m so very sorry, Petal. You are no longer safe here. If someone was able to bring you this letter then I fear you are in far more danger than we had thought. The conspiracy against the Kings runs far deeper than any of us could have anticipated, and if we are to keep you safe then we must act quickly.” He pulls you to your feet and bustles around quickly, covering your shoulders in a thick cloak and packing a bag of your belongings.

“Wait, where do you mean to take me? If I am not safe anywhere?”

He tosses your bag over his shoulder and grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“The only place you will truly be safe.” You’re still quite confused.

“We make for Asgard.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 39

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: boy, did i take a lot of time to post this but it’s the last one and i am on the ground crying. thank you so much for supporting this work. i am so lucky for having all of you xx

Bucky woke up with an odd cold feeling in the spot where Y/N usually used to lie. He rubbed the sleep of his eyes, hand roaming around the bed to find her hot body but nothing; he was alone in bed. He groaned, moving out of the bed as he kicked into protective mode. She shouldn’t be up this early at least not after he’d kept her up all night and if she was awake, it could be for no good reason. His hand blindly found the door as the other looked for something to wear so he wouldn’t walk full on commando in the living room and scare the neighbour who lived in the building next to his. Opening the door, he found her surrounded by papers, her laptop laying on top of her legs, glasses slightly and slowly sliding down the bridge of her nose. Bucky leaned against the door ledge, a stupid lovesick smirk on his lips as he examined her. Somehow, she had managed to find her underwear, the cutest little white, blue and pink corset and matching panties covered by a white dressing gown which just looked delightfully sinful with his hickeys and bite marks spread across her tender skin. He shouldn’t feel so cocky about marking her, yet the mere sight of it woke up an ego like pride which made him want to show her around to everyone who’d bother look. Yet, another part of him wanted to keep her all to himself. Obviously he knew he couldn’t, she was more of the world than she was of him and he would always be madly in love with her no matter what.

    - Mrs. Barnes, you are interrupting our honeymoon period. - he joked, walking behind the couch to kiss her temple. - What are you doing up at 5AM? Are you gonna go on a run with me? 

    - I’m just looking at my contract. - she closed her laptop with a sigh. - Iron clad contract, can’t believe I signed it. 

    - Princess, it was your first agency. You couldn’t have possibly known.

    - My dad is a lawyer, my siblings are lawyers, my grandparents were lawyers. How did I let this happen? Why didn’t I haggle? Why don’t we have a prenup?

   - Your mum is a chef, maybe you took after her. - he joked more to himself than to her. - Also what does a prenup has to do with it? Are you planning on divorcing me already?

   - When I sent the contract over to my dad he asked if I had gotten a prenup when I got married and I know he likes you but he kept yapping about a prenup and how smart women get prenups and I can’t believe I don’t have a prenup and that I signed this contract. - she spoke as fast as a freight train, not even taking a slight break. Bucky noticed the tea cup by her side which, judging by her quick speak, probably wasn’t filled with tea.

   - Princess, did you have some of my coffee?

   - I did, I needed to be awake. 

   - It’s extra strong coffee, doll. You barely drink coffee, it can’t possibly be ... uhm ...

   - I am jittery. - she interrupted him. - I’ve read this a thousand times and unless another agency fights my agency for a contract with me, I am stuck on ensemble for the rest of my life and it’s not like agencies are fighting for good old me.

   - Okay ... - he took her laptop away from her placing it somewhere on the ground before wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her on top of his lap. She leaned her head against his chest, cuddling against his still warm torso from the heat int he bedroom. - Listen princess, you need to take your mind out of that. It’s no use re-reading that contract over and over again.

   - My career is over and I’m not good at anything else.

   - Your career is not over. - his hand caressed her shoulder, pulling her hair away from it before placing a small kiss to her shoulder. She merely cuddled against him, those contract words tattooed on her mind. - There’s no way that contract is legal after he’s charged with harassing you, princess. You just need to relax now. 

   - I don’t know.

   - Let’s go to Florence. - he bite her shoulder playfully. - Let’s go. What’s stopping us?

   - I don’t know ... we can’t go.

   - Don’t make me use the husband card. - he pointed at her playfully. - You’re not gonna want to be here during his trial anyway, precious. 

   - Maybe you’re right. - she leaned onto him, her arms wrapping against his torso. - You really think I’m not over?

   - I would never let that happen, would I? 

10 years later

Bucky felt the sun kiss his skin, the early yet soft wind of March passing by the quiet streets of London as he walked down the street in dark jeans and a equally dark blue henley. He stood by the little white building, sunglasses on as the bell rang and suddenly the boast of laughter erupted from inside the building followed by thousands of little legs running outside. He remained stoic until his smile pulled slightly up as between so many children, he spotted the thick brown curls of his daughter who rushed down the stairs in her little uniform and ladybug bag. She stopped at the bottom off the stairs, looking around until she spotted her dad. A smile, identical to her father’s, formed in her face as she rushed towards Bucky with open arms. He pretended to step back as she collided against him, before pulling her up and kissing her cheek. The 4 year old giggled, her arms wrapping around her dad’s neck as he walked away from her nursery. 

    - We learned about the letters in our names today, daddy! - she started to relate what she had happened during her day immediately after they were far away from the crowd.

    - No way, ladybug. 

    - Yeah. My name has a B, just like yours, daddy. - Bucky knew he should tell his daughter at some point that his name was not Bucky and that it was merely a nickname but he couldn’t bear tell her. She just looked so happy. 

    - Thank god we match, right ladybug?

She nodded her head, cuddling against her dad as he continued to walk in the affluent area of London. The weather was nice, a good omen for the big event of the evening. He was so proud as he saw the theatre walls with a photo of his wife, her name printed with the label Tony Award Winner under it. She deserved it, she deserved it so much and he could not even express in words how proud he was of her. The move back to her hometown had been a difficult one but seeing everything going right, seeing how happy she was ... god, he could swell up with pride. 

He went around the theatre, finding the backstage door and entering it. His daughter jumped off, little eyes looking around with so much wonder. He was almost sure she’d end up like his mother, a little star. The orchestra tuning could be heard from the walls, people and cast were running around preparing for the opening night. Blair held up his hand, pushing him through the crowd and up the stairs where the dressing rooms were.

  - Mumma! - she walked into her mother’s opened dressing room. Y/N dropped whatever she was doing to go hug her daughter, immediately preparing her with lipstick stained kisses. - Mumma, my name has a B like daddy.

  - No way. - she smiled, leaning her forehead against hers. - Ain’t daddy a lucky man?

  - Daddy is a lucky man, alright. - he chuckled, walking up to his two girls. - You look precious, princess.

  - I’m nervous. - he muttered towards her husband, who merely smiled before kissing her. - I’m serious.

  - Well, every time you tell me you’re nervous, something great happens, doesn’t it? - he looked at his daughter; the last time she had told him she was nervous was before Blair was born. - Me and Blair are gonna be there, watching you be splendid. 

  - I wanna go see Chuck. - Blair jumped away from his mother too, running to the next door dressing room and leaving the two lovers alone in the dressing room covered in red flowers, all curtesy of Bucky. The minute he had the theatre address, he started sending roses, lilies and even more every single day. 

  - Wish me luck? - she put her hands on top of his shoulders, almost slowly dancing with him.

  - You don’t need any luck. You’re always perfect.

  - You’re extremely biased, Mr. Barnes. 

  - No, I just have an extremely talented wife, Mrs. Barnes. 

  - 5 minute call. - the voice came through the voice on the speaker.

  - Love me even if I fail? 

  - Love you ‘til the end of time. 

taglist: @disasterbi​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​​ @buckyswillow​​

[narrators-journal]

The final step

This is it boys! The final part! After this, I have no other fic to post, so I’ll probably return to original work or silence lol. But! I’ll try to post what I can to feed ya’ll content!

cw: descriptions of murder, Hint o’ Hisoka, reader’s pregnant

Previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi spent a while helping you pack before the butlers he'd requested showed up, than he returned to his home across the street to pack up as well. After all, with you now on the track to marry him, he would no longer need the home. Though, maybe we could keep it, and use it as something of a vacation spot to escape mother's unrelenting nagging. He mused.

While he was shoving his clothes into his bag and mulling over that option, he spoke to said mother, or, more-so half listened to Kikyo squeal and giggle in pure delight at the news of your pregnancy.        "Mother, please refrain from shrieking in my ear," he said when his excitable mother had to stop for breath,         "I'm sorry dear, but this is such good news! Your father and I were hoping this woman would prove to be a good wife, and while I will say it's a little soon for a baby, this is good news nonetheless!" She squealed, making the assassin huff,        "I know, I should've waited until after I'd married her to consummate," Kikyo about blew a raspberry at his words, making him blink,        "Illumi, we don't care if you decide to have sex before you get married. My only concern is that this woman isn't the right one for you." she said, "Your father would prefer that you choose a woman a bit more suited for our line of work, but if she's really as submissive as you described, I'm sure she'll be a fine addition to the family. Oh! And I'm sure your child will be absolutely adorable! I can't wait to put little booties on them, and absolutely dote on them like you no longer let me do-"          "Mother," Illumi said, though his mother knew despite his monotone voice that he was annoyed.          "Well, you don't." she sniffed before changing the subject. "Anyway, when are you bringing her home? I want to meet her already!" she said, going into a bit of a rant over his failure to even show Kikyo a picture of you, but her son was no longer listening. Instead, Illumi's attention was turned to his surroundings, his senses on high alert from the waves of malicious intent he felt so suddenly from the direction of your home.         "Mother, was Hisoka released?" Illumi asked, his mother's voice dying at the palpable tension coming through the phone,         "I believe so? Your grandfather was apparently sick of the creep, so he had him thrown out." she offered a second before Illumi hung up. In a flash, the assassin was across the street at your home, his needles at the ready. As soon as he set foot in the house, the assassin was greeted with the familiar scent of blood hanging in the air like a heavy blanket and a silence that ate at his nerves. Your home was quiet. too quiet. It about drove the assassin insane with the possible reasons behind the lack of life. Of course, the butlers that were tasked with helping you pack your clothes were dead, so that helped to explain the stifling quiet, but the sight of the help mercilessly slaughtered didn't justify the way Illumi's heart raced and a strange feeling gripped at his throat until he felt he couldn't breathe. The only time that feeling seemed to finally leave, only to be replaced with wrath, was when the casually dressed assassin slipped into your bathroom, his needles poised to be thrown, and he was met with the one person he didn't want to see inside of your home.         "Hisoka." he hissed, his dark eyes narrowing and his aura reflecting the heated rage that boiled his blood at the sight of the brightly colored magician, who turned to look at him lazily, frowning as if the soulless man was as equally unwanted as the pink haired man was,         "Before you maul me and get no answers, I didn't hurt your precious (y/n)." He assured, plucking one of his signature playing cards and licking the blood of a butler from it before continuing "I believe she crawled out of the bathroom window. So, I suggest you go get her back before you focus on me. Don't want her to get too far away now, do we?" The magician pouted, knowing damned well Illumi wouldn't bother with him after that news, which meant Illumi wouldn't be fighting him, yet. The assassin did, in fact, leave the magician at your house, going out instead to find you. If the help wasn't so fucking incompetent this would be a lot easier. He thought as he forced his wrathful aura into zetsu while he coldly rushed by the corpses and returned outside to prowl down the chilly streets of town, turning that edgy, strangling, anxiety feeling in his throat into energy to fuel his possessive hunt for his wife, his property. On the bright side of the situation though, you were nothing compared to the dark-haired predator, so he had that to cool his unhinged emotions before running into you. You were a recluse, you likely didn't know your way around town that well, so your trail was pretty obvious. In times of life threatening danger, people, more-so women, usually went to crowded areas after all, and you didn't know of many places that would offer help, so you were likely going to head to your grocery store. Knowing that, Illumi was able to get ahead of you, scooping you up before you could slow from a mad dash fuelled by mortal terror to a speed at which you could avoid slamming into the hunter's chest.        "(y/n)," he growled, shaking you once, firmly, to put a stop to your flailing and squirming, "I am this close to jamming one of my needles into your brain. STOP IT." He ordered, the force of slightly panicked rage in his words making you freeze and stare up in terror at him with your wide (e/c) eyes. For a few seconds you stared at one another, your form squished to his in an inescapable grip while his soulless eyes glared down at you until you finally burst into tears.       "Please! Just let me go!" You plead, your voice quivering with barely restrained sobs, so he took a deep breath and ran his thumb down your already tear-stained cheek,       "Why would I do that? I'm only trying to keep you and our baby safe." he reminded you, but you shook your head vigorously, making bits of your (h/l), (h/c) hair stick to your face,        "You're scaring me! Please let me go, I'm begging you Illumi." you cried, trying to shake his comforting hug off,        "I thought you loved me," he said, not releasing you even when your upset tantrum stuttered to a stop. For a moment, you seemed conflicted, but than closed your eyes and tried to kick him to no avail,         "I...I don't know anymore. You've...become so scary recently, I have to p-put my own well being ahead of any shallow attraction." you sniffled, digging your nails into his t-shirt. He brushed a strand of hair from your (s/c) face as you shook against him          "(y/n), I would never do anything to harm you or our baby unless you force me to. Just behave and act like you did before figuring out you were pregnant, everything will be okay." he assured, making his voice as comforting, soft, and loving as he could manage to try and sooth you. Thankfully, he could see the fear and rebellion in your (e/c) eyes dim, returning to their usual, gorgeously submissive state. After that, you only gave one final attempt at escaping his arms before finally giving up. "Good girl, (y/n). Now, let's go home. My mother is about to implode in her excitement to meet you." After that, Illumi returned to the house he had bought for his bag of clothes, then made a beeline for the Zoldyck estate. On the trip there, the long haired assassin tried to make you happy, providing you food, comfortable places to sleep when need-be, and finding you little gifts related to your hobbies to try and entertain and make you smile. He could tell that you were still uncomfortable with him, but you slowly began to warm back up to him when your human need for companionship demanded it. However, the one thing he couldn't save you from or prepare you for, was Kikyo. The woman about tackled Illumi when he pushed open the testing gates, but as soon as you were through and safely on Zoldyck land with your husband protectively at your side, his mother began her fussing.       "She looks so ill! Illumi, did you make sure she's physically healthy?"       "She's not much to look at, maybe if she tried more make-up and clothes that fit her better?"       "Illumi, where are her things? Did you just snatch her up off of the street while she was pregnant?!" The only thing that saved you and Illumi from his mother's judgements and chiding was a firm look from his father, Silva, who was making a rare appearance to greet you in a much calmer manner.       "To answer your questions, I will get the family doctor to look her over, and her things had to be left. A threat came up and I needed to bring her here before harm befell her, so I will need to buy her new clothes." The dead eyed assassin assured his mother, who obviously had more hen pecking to do, but she refrained under the stern look of her husband. After that, Illumi got you nicely settled in to his bedroom, and while you did put up some more of a fight over staying there, you mostly accepted your role as his wife-to-be and mother of his child rather easily. He knew you were simply acting out from your hormones and the stress of your situation, so he did his best to keep his temper with you.         "It'll be okay (y/n), once you get comfortable here, we'll be happy." Illumi soothed one night after one of your bouts of sobbing and fighting to escape while he sat, cross-legged with you in his lap and his hands rubbing your belly. You weren't showing much yet, but it still pleased him greatly to now have his wife and child safely at home. That's right, he thought, letting a rare smile spread across his usually unreadable face, you're home now, (y/n)...

[lillywillow]

Cold Heart of the Wild

Summary: For days Bucky has been having dreams about a white wolf and a mysterious woman. What happens when his dreams become reality?

 Word Count: 2234

 Square Filled: White Wolf

 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

 Warnings: Mentions of hunting and shooting, injuries, minor mentions of death

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 Snow covered the ground in every direction Bucky looked. It crunched under his feet as he moved; where he was going, he didn’t know. Suddenly, a howl filled the air, its mournful sound sending chills down his spine. There was a flash of movement in the bare trees. Bucky followed it, catching a glimpse of a white wolf.

 The wolf stopped for him as if expecting something. Did it want him to follow? Bucky looked at it for a moment before it ran off.

 “Wait!”

 Bucky chased after the wolf, running in between frozen vegetation, trying desperately to keep up with it. He lost sight of the wolf. Feeling lost in this icy landscape, he frantically searched for any more signs of life. That’s when he saw her.

 A woman dressed in animal hide clothing. A hunter perhaps?

 “Hey!” Bucky shouted, reaching out to her.

 The woman began turning...

...

Bucky woke in a cold sweat. He had almost forgotten all about the mission he was going on that morning. As he prepared for it, he reflected on his dream. That was the sixth night in a row he’d been having dreams like that. Could that possibly mean something? There was no time to dwell too much further on the subject. Bucky had to board the jet and get ready to go.

...

 Bucky’s plane was shot down somewhere over the Alaskan wilderness. He survived the initial crash relatively unharmed but there were Hydra agents waiting on the ground. He fought and took them out but his side was badly injured. As he collapsed in the snow, he thought for sure this was where he was going to die.

 Bucky drifted in and out of consciousness but caught flashes of images.

 The sound of gunfire.

 A white wolf hovering over him.

 Being dragged on some kind of sled.

 A woman with a rifle strapped to her back.

 Bucky’s eyes opened in a jolt. The images had been so familiar to him; he expected to see the sterile environment of a Hydra lab. To his surprise, he found himself in a quaint wood cabin. There were animal hides on the bed keeping him warm.  A fireplace along a wall had a cauldron of something delicious smelling food hanging in its stony walls. A kitchen nook was off to the side of the cabin. The place was rather cosy. Bucky sat up causing pain to shoot through him. He carefully lifted his shirt to see someone had tended to his wound although now blood was seeping through the bandaging. Holding onto his side, Bucky forced himself to his feet and looked out the small window.

 Outside, he could see a woman standing in front of two crudely made graves. She was dressed exactly the same as the one that had been haunting his dreams. A sound behind him caught his attention. Slowly turning around, he saw a white wolf. He went to comment but the pain in his side became too much and he fell to his knees. The wolf went out what appeared some kind of doggy door carved through the main one. A few minutes later, the woman came in, quickly shutting the door behind her. She helped Bucky off the floor and back onto the bed. He whimpered and held up his hand which was now bloodied. She made a disapproving sound with a click on her tongue.

 “You’ve opened that wound again,” she stated. She carefully lifted his shirt once more, helping him to sit up as she cleaned and redressed the injury.

 Once she had finished and washed her hands, she went to get two bowls, filling them with whatever was in the cauldron. She came back, handing him one with a spoon.

 “Thanks,” he muttered. She nodded and sat down to eat as well. A silence fell over the pair of them.

 As Bucky ate, so many questions filled his mind. Who was this woman? Why did she save him? Why had he been dreaming about her? What did any of this have to do with the wolf? He was still very cautious.

 “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... is... we need to get out of here!” Bucky stood up but immediately fell back down in pain.

 The woman sighed and made sure his wound hadn’t once again reopened.

 “You’re safe here. Those Hydra agents won’t be around to bother us. I made sure of it...”

 Bucky froze, fear and dread suddenly sunk in.

 “H-how do you...” The woman sighed softly.

 “I was an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. much like you. I was sent on a mission and my plane went down...”

 It dawned on Bucky why she was so familiar and it had nothing to do with his dreams.

 “You’re Y/N L/N! You were one of the best! I read your file. You went missing ten years ago. Presumed dead...”

 “And I would have been if it hadn’t been for Agnes...”

 “Who’s Agnes?”

 Y/N walked over to the window, her eyes ghosting over with memories.

 “Agnes was... one of the strongest women I have ever known. She lived here with her husband until he died. Lived here on her own for quite some time.”

 “What happened to her?”

 “Two years ago, there was a big grizzly bear... it crept up on Agnes and attacked... I did the best I could to help her and she hung in there for as long as she could... I’ve been here on my own ever since.”

 The wolf let out a huff.

 “Except for James of course,” she smiled. The wolf gave an approving noise.

 “James?” Bucky was more than a little surprised.

 “Agnes told she found him abandoned as a pup. She raised him to be I guess a sort of pet. I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen to him until his time comes.”

 “What do you mean?”

 Y/N once again sighed and tossed James a piece of meat.

 “James is getting pretty old in wolf years. Now, if he should die of natural causes I can bury him with some honour but I’ll be damned if I let some hunter take him away from me.”

 Bucky went quiet for a few moments.

 “How come... you never went back? You could have left at any time...”

 Y/N scoffed softly.

 “When I went down in that plane, it was winter, just as it is now. Every day I wondered if I was ever getting out of here and with each passing month, that hope left. Maybe they sent a search party and couldn’t find me, maybe they couldn’t be bothered, maybe the stories got to them and scared them away...”

 “Stories?” Bucky asked.

 “You see, Alaska has a sort of... Bermuda Triangle area. Planes, ships and people go missing, strange lights in the sky, strange creatures spotted... I never believed the stories but... Perhaps I’ve been without human interaction for too long,” she shrugged. “Anyway, you should get some rest. I’m going to go and hunt something for dinner. If you need anything before I go, tell me now.”

 Bucky shook his head and Y/N made him comfortable before she left with James following behind her. He had been given so much information in such a short amount of time yet he still had questions but for now he would just take some time to allow his body to heal itself.

...

 When night fell, Y/N had boarded up any areas that cold might creep in. She made another stew out of the game she hunted in the afternoon and made herself comfortable next to Bucky.

 “Wh-what are you doing?” His face flushed at their close proximity.

 “It’s below freezing outside. If you want to survive, you’ll need my body heat.”

 Bucky nodded and slowly allowed himself to relax before realising something.

 “Wait! James isn’t here! Shouldn’t he be inside with us?”

 Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness toward the animal.

 “James will be fine. Wolves have adapted to centuries of this kind of weather. He has his own little spot to sleep in nearby and he can do whatever he wants to do.”

 Bucky was a little relieved to hear that.

 “Tell me more about your life here,” he prompted.

 “What’s there to know? It’s life in the Alaskan wilderness. I hunt, I stock up on supplies, and I sleep at night...”

 “Well then tell me about Agnes. I’m sure you must some stories about her...”

 Y/N regarded him carefully for a moment.

 “Alright... but only if you tell me about you in return. You read my file back at... wherever you came from, so you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name.”

 “James Buchannan Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky.”

 Y/N let out a soft laugh, unable to believe the coincidence.

 “James and James... I guess I will have to call you Bucky to avoid confusion,” she smiled.

 The pair of them spent the night swapping stories and getting to know each other better until they eventually fell asleep. That night for the first time in a long time, Bucky had a dreamless sleep.

...

 Time went by and eventually a month had passed. Bucky and Y/N had formed a strong bond with each other in what was beginning to feel like love. Y/N wondered if this is how Agnes had felt with her husband.

 Then one day, it happened. Y/N was in her storage shed when she heard James snarling and barking. She ran out to see a helicopter appear a moment later, landing in a small clearing nearby. Bucky hobbled out of the house at the commotion. Although his injury was healing nicely, he still had some more to do.

 A few men exited the chopper and headed over to the two of you. You called James to your side to keep him from attacking the strangers but he was still on edge.

 “Buck... good to see you,” one of the men wearing a uniform went to Bucky and hugged him. Bucky hugged back.

 “Good to see you too, Steve. How’d you find me?”

 “We tracked where your jet went down. I’ve been searching for as long as I could ever since. Finally caught a break today when we saw the smoke from the chimney,” Steve replied, nodding over to the house. “Who’s this?”

 “Steve, this is Y/N. She saved my life...”

 Steve looked at her for a moment.

 “The same Y/N who went missing a decade ago?”

 “The very same...”

 “Buck, can I talk to you for a minute?”

 The pair of them went out of Y/N’s earshot but whatever they were saying, it was argumentative. After a few moments the pair walked back to her.

 “Y/N, how would you like to come back with us?” Steve reluctantly offered.

 “I... I can’t...”

 Bucky looked at her sadly.

 “I have James to think of.”

 “James is... a wolf?” Steve asked.

 “He’s not just a wolf. James is too used to humans. He’s vulnerable and a prize for hunters around here. I can’t just leave him.”

 “I see...”

 “Steve, can we have a moment alone?” Steve nodded and left the two them to have a little privacy.

 “You could stay...” Y/N said softly.

 “I wish I could but I can’t. That punk needs me... like James needs you.” His eyes filled with tears as did hers.

 “I... I really hope I’ll see you again.”

 “I do too, doll.”

 Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Y/N kissed back, holding him as close as she could. Eventually air was needed and they pulled away. Bucky gave her a communicator to keep in touch, telling her to call him if anything happened. Only after the helicopter disappeared out of sight did Y/N allow herself to cry.

...

 Six months later, Bucky finally heard back from her.

 “Hello? Bucky?”

 “Y/N! Is it really you?”

 “Y-yeah...”

 “Is everything okay? You sound upset...”

 “Um... James... passed away...”

 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry...”

 “I... I had been expecting it for a while... he hasn’t been well for days. I found him this morning. Can you... can you come and take me away? I don’t... I don’t want to die alone out here...”

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

...

 It took a lot of convincing but Bucky was allowed to go and collect Y/N. He had marked the coordinates of her cabin on a map and went there as fast as he could.

 The moment she saw him, Y/N threw herself into Bucky’s arms and sobbed. Bucky held her close and rubbed her back.

 “It’s okay, doll. I’m here now. I’ve got you. You’ve done your duty to Agnes and laid James to rest...”

 The pair stood there for a while until Y/N had calmed down enough before heading to the transport. As they flew over the Alaska wilderness, Y/N took one last look at the place for ten years she called home. She held Bucky’s hand, ready to start a new chapter of her life.

[house-of-galathynius]

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

*Two updates in one day?? Who am I? 

@jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @tomtenadia @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival

Chapter Sixteen ~ Relenting

Chapter Fifteen ~ Chapter Seventeen

Aelin returned to her rooms, surprised to find her mother lounging in a chair, sipping on a steaming cup of tea. 

“The guards informed me that you and Rowan left for the city earlier. If you had wanted to have some time for the two of you, we could have moved some things around.” 

Aelin joined her mother on the couch, taking her own cup and pouring the steaming liquid into it. She took a long sip, savouring the warmth, before placing it back on the end table and turning to her mother. 

“We have plenty of time together. There was just something we had to do.” 

“Would this have something to do with Lysandra?” 

Aelin didn’t look at her mother. Instead taking another sip of her tea. 

“Is there something your father and I should know?” 

She didn’t look at her mother as she spoke. “There may be a baby on the way.”

Aelin’s mother coughed as she placed the tea on the table. Her posture moving towards Aelin. She cleared her throat. “I hadn’t realised you and Rowan had…” 

Aelin’s eyes widened. “No! No.” She shook her head. “I’m not… you thought I was pregnant?” 

“It is usual after mating to… consummate the bond. Much like you would after getting married.” 

Aelin cringed. She had always been close to her mother, but when it came to talking about relationships, it has always been a topic neither had wanted to approach. She had had the standard talk when she had come of age, and when she had been courting other men her mother had insisted on going on a tonic just in case. 

“I am not pregnant, mamma. Rowan and I haven’t… taken that step yet.” 

Evalin looked surprised at the confession, but quickly schooled her face back to normal. “It’s good to know that Rowan is respecting your boundaries. And I must say I am slightly relieved that you’re not pregnant. You’re so young, you have plenty of time.” 

Aelin hummed in agreement and took another sip of the tea. Her mother paused a moment, her eyes widening in realisation. “Lysandra is expecting?” 

Aelin nodded. “Aedion is the father.” 

Evalin stood from the sofa, a hand going to her forehead. Aelin did nothing as her mother stared into the fire and processed. 

“Where are they now? Is Lysandra okay?” 

“Lysandra is going to stay with Sam for a while in the city. She doesn’t want everyone to know yet. So until she is ready to tell people I have been tasked in figuring out what to do.” 

Evalin paced in front of the fire. “Aedion has not proposed marriage? It seems like the sensible thing to do.” 

“You know Lysandra. She is worried what people will think and with my marrying for alliances out of the picture, the lords believe it should fall to Aedion.” 

Her mother waved a hand. “Nonsense. I’ll have Orlon speak with them regarding Aedion. Terrasen will find other ways to build relationships. What is more important is everyone’s happiness.”

Aelin huffed out a laugh at her mothers ranting. 

“Whatever they decide, I should prepare new accommodation for Lysandra. Perhaps we’ll move her closer to you. There is an empty suite that would be perfect, I can organise some new furniture to be brought in.” 

Aelin let her mother finish before speaking. “Before you start getting too excited, let’s just give Lysandra some time to process. In the meantime we can speak to Orlon.” 

“Of course.” Her mother smiled to herself. “Oh this is exciting. I honestly thought Elide and Lorcan would be the first to have a child.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes slightly. If her mother was like this with Lysandra… then what would she be like when she eventually announced her and Rowan were expecting. The thought sent a pang through her. The image of Rowan holding a baby was jarring, one she had not envisioned until now. And it maybe it was the mating bond, or just the love she held for Rowan, but she warmed at the idea of a family with him. 

Evalin smiled at her. “I know that look.” 

Aelin pretended to look confused.

“One day, Aelin. But enjoy the time you have with him now, get to know each other a little more. You have plenty of time.” Her mother stroked Aelin’s hair in a soothing manner. “I’m proud of you, Fireheart.” 

The women stood, Aelin snuffing out the candles that were flickering on the desk and nightstand, calming the flames in the fireplace, lowering them until they were embers. A good way for her to siphon off bits of her magic when she had gone too long without using it. 

Aelin followed her mother out of the room, shivering at the loss of warmth. They meandered through the palace until they reached Orlon’s office. Her father was already seated in a chair, the two of them murmuring about something, their eyes scanning over papers that were laid on the solid oak desk. 

When Aelin and her mother entered the men looked up from their documents. Her father smiled brightly at her, Orlon giving her a nod and his own small smile. 

“My two favourite ladies.” 

Evalin laughed and walked over to kiss her husband. Aelin liked seeing them this way, she had seen enough unhappy marriages in her life to know how lucky she was that her parents had chosen to be together and not matched by someone else— and that Aelin herself had managed to escape that fate. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure? I had thought you would be attending to Lysandra.” Orlon gave her a knowing look. He was under no illusion to the fact she had lied to him this morning. 

Aelin gave him a sheepish grin. “That’s actually why we’re here. I need to discuss something with you all.” 

Evalin took a seat next to her father, whilst Aelin made herself comfortable. 

“Will whatever you have to tell me need damage control?” Orlon gave her a pained look. One she had seen many times over her short life.

She grimaced. “Potentially.” 

Orlon rubbed his forehead. “Aelin…” 

“Lysandra has discovered she is going to have a child. Aedion is the father.” 

Orlon looked to her parents, her father in his own state of shock. “Did you both know about this?” 

Her father shook his head. Her mother smiled sheepishly at Orlon. “I was informed just now.” 

Orlon stood from his chair, resting his hands on the desk. He didn’t speak for a moment, assessing Aelin, thinking over what she had just told him. 

When Orlon still hadn’t said anything, Aelin continued, “Lysandra does not want to cause a fuss, and has gone to stay with Sam in the city for the time being. But I came to you because I know since my mating I have made things slightly more difficult in regards to alliances.” 

“No one is angry at you Aelin.” 

She smiled. “I know. My point was that Aedion is now being considered for fulfilling what I couldn’t… but I am asking you to consider giving your blessing and convincing the other lords that Aedion should be allowed to marry whomever he chooses.” She paused a moment, her mother nodding in agreement, as her father and Orlon listened intently. “Lysandra would marry Aedion if he asked, but she’s afraid of the repercussions and also knows that many of the lords would not agree to it.” 

Orlon considered her words for a moment. The room in silence, save for the quiet footsteps of people walking outside the office. 

“The lords are not to know she is with-child?” 

Aelin shook her head. “She would prefer if it was kept a secret for now.” 

“That does make it slightly harder. But with your mating ceremony and wedding… and my upcoming announcement, I’m sure I can convince them, or at least get them to overlook it. With so many other things happening, they will be distracted.” 

Aelin did not react to his mention of an announcement. No more had been said about Orlon’s stepping down since she had been been in the healing wing and Aelin hadn’t been rushing to bring it up herself. 

“I’ll deal with this Aelin. You should focus on the planning, I was meant to inform you yesterday that the mating ceremony is being brought forward, it’ll be in one week.” Orlon came around the front of his desk, stopping in front of her. “We will follow the old ways, you and Rowan will have a week after mating to yourselves— we have prepared one of the cottages just outside the city for the two of you. But when you return, I’m afraid things will start to move quickly. Your wedding will be two weeks after Yulemas ball.” 

She nodded. “I understand.” 

“I’ll leave it to you to inform Rowan.” 

She removed herself from the sofa she had been sat on and bowed to Orlon. She turned to leave, pausing when Orlon spoke once again.

“I’ll sort everything out for Lysandra.” 

Aelin smiled gratefully. She bowed once more to Orlon and did the same to her parents, who had been unusually quiet. She was sure there would be words about this from her father at some point. 

She closed the door behind her and sauntered down the hallway, people curtsied to her as she walked past. The snow had started to ease since earlier and she found herself grateful for the reprieve in the harsh Terrasen weather. With Lysandra gone and Aelin having already told Orlon she would be unavailable today, she wandered the halls for a while longer. She strolled toward the kitchen where the smell of fresh bread and pastries wafted. As a child she had always been told off for sneaking into the kitchens and convincing the cooks to give her extra sweets. And as she’d grown older she did not frequent there so much, but occasionally she would pass by, the cooks always giving her something anyway. Today they handed her a plate with the warm bread and honey drizzled over it. 

She perched on a stool in the corner of the kitchens, out of the way, but still able to watch as the cooks flittered around, their hands kneading and chopping. The smells were heavenly. Garlic and onions soon filled her nostrils, then the delicious scent of roast chicken. Her mouth was practically watering. But still she sat, offering to help here and there, when she saw the flames dying, she easily reignited them, the cooks thanking her. 

She sat for a while longer, nibbling on the last of her bread and honey, before finally going to the sink to wash her plate and exiting the kitchens. She wasn’t sure where she headed next, but she caught the scent of pine and snow and felt the pull of the bond. Aelin arrived outside Rowan’s rooms. She had never actually set foot inside, at least not while they had been Rowan’s quarters. 

She knocked on the door, and warmed as she heard Rowan’s voice. 

He was sat by the desk, scribbling something down on parchment, barely looking up when she entered. The room was warm and Aelin noted the shirt thrown over the chair and the piles of books stacked by his bedside. 

She stopped behind him, her hands going to his shoulders— touching him was second nature now, whenever she neared him it was impossible not to let her hand slip into his or for her arm to brush against his own. Every touch was electric and she could feel the bond pulsing between them. Sometimes she didn’t know if it was the bond, or just the simmering sexual tension that was between them. 

The furthest they had gone was still only kissing, Rowan still refused to take her before they had mated officially, and it was driving her insane. She had tried many different tricks to try and get him to cave, including wearing a scandalous nightgown that she had planned on reserving for her wedding night… but she had seen Rowan sprawled on her bed, wearing little to nothing himself, and she had to try. All it had done was frustrate them both more, and Rowan had excused himself and came back ten minutes later with wet hair and a sheepish look on his face. 

She pushed the thoughts aside and pulled her focus back to the male in front of her. 

“Where did you go in Orynth?” She rubbed his shoulders, sliding her hands down the front of his shirt and leaning her head on his shoulder. 

Rowan stopped writing and turned around, pulling Aelin onto his lap so she straddled him. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve arranged for us to have dinner alone this evening. I hope you don’t mind.” 

Aelin hummed in response as she kissed his neck, slowly moving to place kisses over his chin, his cheeks, his forehead. Rowan’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into them. Aelin placed her mouth over his, the kiss meant to be sweet and soft, but Rowan gathered her closer and deepened it. Their noses brushing as they fell into the kiss, her hands in his hair, his fingers gripping her waist. 

Her breathing was heavy as Rowan swiftly picked her up and strode over to the bed, placing her down gently on the end. His body came over hers, she blinked up at him, a smile playing on the corner of her mouth. She saw the desire in his eyes and scented exactly what he wanted. 

“Just give in.” 

He shook his head as he studied her. She remained lying beneath him, Rowan bracing his hands to the side of her head. Aelin leaned up to kiss his mouth once. Then again. 

Rowan sighed, letting her take control. She pulled at his shirt as she moved up the bed, Rowan crawling along with her, their chests touching, their lips still together. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the feel of him against her setting her on fire. 

She kissed his face, yanking at the bottom of his shirt to pull it off. “Please, Rowan.” 

He didn’t stop her as she finally got the shirt free, pulling it over his head. 

Gods. 

She ran her hands over his chest, his skin warm against her fingertips. His muscles flexed as he held himself above her, Aelin let her hands wander to his arms, to his back. She couldn’t stop touching him, the feel of his soft skin was enough to send her wild. 

Rowan’s own heart was beating just as fast. He watched her as she touched him, exploring him. She stopped a moment, looking back at him. She gave him a wicked smile before pulling her own blouse off. Throwing it to the floor beside her. 

Rowan did not move as he took in her naked torso. 

She slid her hand along her stomach and up as she moved it to her breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers.

She had never seen Rowan move so fast. One second she was free and teasing him, the next he had her hands pinned above her, his mouth moving to where she had just been playing. He took her nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue. Aelin groaned in pleasure, her body writhing beneath him, needing more skin, less clothes. 

He moved his mouth to her other breast, repeating what he had just done, and she felt every nerve in her body come alive, goosebumps erupting on her skin. 

Rowan kissed and nibbled his way down her stomach, he took one of his hands away, holding her wrists with one, the other coming down to unbutton her pants. She wanted, no needed Rowan between her legs, she wanted his mouth to lick and suck and send her to oblivion. She wanted him deep inside her, she needed to feel him move inside her, to have their bodies together as one. 

Rowan almost growled as he set her free, leaving her completely naked on the bed. The way Rowan looked at her… she had never felt more exposed or more beautiful in her entire life. 

She let her legs fall open wider, allowing him to see all of her. She could see the bulge in his pants growing, straining against the fabric. Rowan did not move, so Aelin brought her hand down, letting her fingers move in circles against her core. She could see the struggle on Rowan’s face as he battled with himself— he had wanted to wait— but she knew that she was making it impossible for him to stay strong. 

She stroked herself, smiling at Rowan, taunting him with her own touches. 

It took half a second before Rowan was pulling off his own pants, crawling up the bed and crashing his mouth against her own. The kiss was rough and tantalising and she loved every moment of it. His length brushed against her leg and she grinned, her hands wandering until she wrapped around him and started to move. He let out a groan and let his own hands find her centre. Aelin sighed as his fingers replaced where she had been moments before, moving in just the right way that sent sparks through her. 

Rowan kissed her as he slipped a finger inside, she moaned, which seemed to be enough encouragement. He added another one, filling her more, pumping his fingers in and out. Her own hand was still wrapped around Rowan and she increased her speed, loving the way he felt in her palm. Rowan let out his own moans of pleasure as they both touched each other frantically, finally giving into it all.

Aelin arched her back, letting her breasts slide against Rowan’s stomach, his fingers still pleasuring her, she shifted slightly to kiss him again, then she pulled away, directing Rowan to lay on his back. 

She crawled over him, straddling him, going back to his length, slowly teasing her hand up and down. She enjoyed watching him squirm beneath her, his breathing heavy as she played with him. She gave a couple more strokes before she bent down and wrapped her mouth around him, going to the base and slowly back up. At the feel of her mouth Rowan let out a groan, his hands clasping her head to steady her. 

Aelin licked his length, savouring his taste as she sucked the tip, letting her tongue slide over it. Rowan bucked beneath her, she took it as encouragement and took him entirely in her mouth, her hand at his base following her mouth up and down as she picked up her pace. She found her rhythm and kept going until Rowan was writhing beneath her, his hands tangled in her hair. 

“I’m close.” 

Aelin lifted her head slightly to look at him, and she felt satisfaction as she took him in— eyes closed and his chest rising and falling quickly. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He practically growled.

She grinned and went back to him, taking his length in her mouth once again, sucking and licking and touching. Rowan held her breast in his hand, squeezing and flicking his thumb over her nipple until she was crawling up his body and taking his mouth to her own. The kiss was manic, a fight of lips, teeth and tongue as they tried to get enough of the other. 

Aelin was reaching behind her, finding his length. She didn’t break eye contact with Rowan as she positioned herself above him, both of them anticipating the joining— the mating bond practically singing at the promise of what was to come. 

Aelin began to sink down, his tip teasing her entrance. 

Three knocks at the door, then a voice calling out. “Your highness?” 

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Imagine: “Could I request a Daniel Gillies smut like they are both at the comic con(they are both in the originals) and he is teasing her while he answers a question ? Or makes fun with Joseph and he says some dirty things.” Requested by @elijahspersonalwifeyyy .

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words:

Edited: Yes

A/N: I apologise @elijahspersonalwifeyyy for the incredibly long wait. I’ve had this lined up to post but with coursework and writing so much at the same time, it’s made it difficult but I refuse to quit. I’m not a quitter. I’m also not a person to announce a hiatus. Either way, hope you enjoyed ! There is a lot to read I know but we needed a build up and this is one of my favourite comic cons ever, I wanted to do the before hand scenes either way so. Don’t forget to check out my new story “On The Way” !

All of us at the current moment in time were stood backstage waiting to be called on. I couldn't tell you how irritated I was when I went on after Joseph and then Daniel followed. They were both irritating enough to me together anyway but they were in a particularly annoying mood today and I was not prepared for it.

“The man who will break your heart and then rip it out and then probably eat it. Joseph Morgan.”

The whole audience cheered as he walked on and he waved quite casually as he did. 

“The women who brings all men to there knees but still can't find anything better to do than drink wine. Y/N Y/L/N”

I giggled as I walked out and I saw the audience screaming and Joseph giving me a mischievous look.

“The brother with a suit for every occasion. Daniel Gillies as Elijah.”

He walked out, threw me a quick smirk and blew a kiss to the audience as they screamed. He pulled his chair out and smiled at everyone.

“Nice jacket.”

“Yeah. Give it up for this jacket ! Huh ? Out of a suit and into a smoking hot jacket.”

“I know right, the one time he's not wearing a suit.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift from Y/N.”

“Aw that’s super sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift for our anniversary.”

“Really ? How many years ?”

“Seven.”

“and very sweet.”

He called the rest of our costars out and we continued on with the panel.

After the host had started the panel with a question for Julie and Michael, it was now a group question for me, Joseph and Phoebe.

“Uh now going to the show, we've seen Klaus and Lily and Klaus and Hayley kind of trying the uh co-parenting thing and it did not really go so well as we all saw. How is Klaus going to be as a parent now that Hayley isn't around and Lily and Elijah have reconciled ?”

As soon as the question was asked, we all turned to Joseph.

“Uh you know, before he alienated his whole family by toasting Elijah's girlfriend, sleeping with his wife and and and cursing the women he thought he was in love with um Klaus survived under this sort of umbrella of Elijah's protection and forgiveness I suppose and so Elijah was always a voice of reason and Hayley was always there to battle it out with him. So, I would say badly. He's gonna do badly as a single parent you know and I think he knows he's kinda messing it up but he's trying. At least he's trying. You gotta give him that. Even if he's warping the minds of his two daughters, one before she's even uttered a syllable and the other before she get's old enough to realise that Klaus and Lily aren't actually together you know like she’s thought for years.”

“Geez. So uh how are are Lily, Elijah and Klaus going to tell her ? Who's going to be the one that does it or will they all do it together ?”

I decided to answer this questions, being more involved with the story line of my children.

“I think that Lily will have to be the one to tell her and whilst doing so will definitely have to be quite cautious when telling Sofia, you know not only because she's only 7 years old but also because she’s thought of Elijah as her Uncle her whole life- and although that hasn't changed it's still going to be difficult since this latest revelation is that, her Uncle Elijah that she adores oh so much is now also 'mommy's boyfriend' or in more formal terms her step-dad. So I think she's going to be confused and it might be quite difficult for her at first but I think she’s mature for her age and that she will understand quite quickly that, Mommy and Daddy aren't together and that despite realizing that her mom was married to her uncle I think she will quickly appreciate the fact we told her because of her understanding personality. “

Daniel quickly leaned forward and spoke before the host could ask another question.

“The moral of the story is, don't sleep with your husband's brother. Especially when not using protection and then deciding to get back together with your husband before trying to force him to sign the divorce papers.”

The whole room suddenly echoed with loud laughter and I couldn't stop giggling myself despite being offended for my character. I hit his arm playfully. He grinned at me and rested his hand on my leg as the room calmed down and he slouched back in his chair a little.

“Very true. So, I mean he can always just compel a few dozen nannies but he does have Elijah there to help him co-parent you know not just with Sofia but with Hope. I'm thinking like shared schedules, late night feedings...Whose doing what ?”

“It’s like we both wake up and the baby is crying and it's like, are you going to get her or am I ? Alright, I'll get her.”

“Yeah no it's gonna be me. I'm gonna do the graveyard shift, I know that all to well. But we gotta remember too, Lily and Freya are going to be doing a large share of the work.”

“Oh yeah, they can do it. There you go.”

I giggled and hit Joseph in the shoulder for the comment.

“Sexist.”

“No, come on. Lily's already been through this twice she knows’ what she's doing and Freya's Switzerland at this moment in time, I think for both of us to be in there...I’m gonna stop talking.”

We all chuckled at Daniel's comment.

                                               *

“Now we're going to go to audience questions in just a little bit but first I wanted to do something fun. I know it's not the holiday's and I know we don't have a big ass bonfire in front of us but I thought it would be quite fun if everybody kinda thinks about a wish for their character for the future, just throw it in the imaginary bonfire.”

“Well, I'm a human....so I just want to stay alive.”

“Good answer.”

“Oh I forgot you weren't a character.”

“I have wishes for everybody but I don't have a character.”

“I do wish for Julie that Supernatural Judge Judy becomes her next spin off and Exploding Ovaries is the title of Daniel Gillies' next memoir. 

“A wish for Hayley would be that Hope can live a normal, happy existence. I think would be what she would want the most.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you. That's it, I'm done.”

“Uh, I think for Elijah...I mean other than wishing that his girlfriend's wouldn't be incinerated or his wife doesn't sleep with his brother again...”

I giggled at Daniel's comment, despite his comment towards my character and spoke with Joseph, simultaneously. 

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm not letting that one go easily. So, uh...I would wish for him. Oh man. I wish for him, I’m actually wishing for something dark, like I sort of would wish for...a great division between the brothers before reconciliation.”

“So that's how it's going to be.”

“So, my wish for Lily is um...to finally find that bloody fertility spell that she's been looking for, for centuries. So that her and Elijah can have children of their own which they want more than anything and move somewhere outside of New Orleans in a nice family home, away from the drama.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Uh, I wish everyone would just do what Klaus says because he's always right. He knows what he's doing. It's for the greater good. Come on. Get on board with his plans. Everything will be alright in the end. Not everyone will be alright in the end but everything will be alright in the end. Right ?”

“Um, I wish Marcel would cross over. No.”

“I wish for more of your cleavage.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he says comments like that. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I knew the double meaning behind it. Daniel has not taken his eyes away from my chest today. That's what breast feeding does to you, I suppose. When Daniel picked my outfit this morning, I was glad. I was going to wear some leather pants and a red blouse with some heels but he somehow convinced me to wear a dress. God was I glad, I actually listened to him. It was hot in San Diego summer heat and I underestimated a little when I decided on leather pants. 

“Yeah. We gonna get some dollar bills. Let's see some ones. Tryna make some money out here. Somebody, put on some Usher. Slow jam. Uh yeah...”

“I have a twenty. What can we get for a twenty ?”

“Break it up. Break it up.”

“Make it into ones and let's make it rain.”

“If I throw loose change at you, can I make it hail ?”

“Alright, moving on. Next subject.”

“Um, Davina is a witch and I think it would be really cool if she could fly. So, whether it's a broomstick or something else...I still think it would be really cool.”

“That’s a good one. Um, mines pretty selfish. I hate shaving, so I wish we could work something in so Vincent could have like a huge beard.”

“I changed my mind, I want superpowers as well. Three one foot long, retractable adamantine claws from each hand please.”

”Why is the camera on me ? I wanna fly. I wanna see these guys fly. I want them charging up walls and...we don’t have the budget for that. I wanna see more vampirey stuff. Why am I wishing again ? I exhausted my wish.”

“You guys can make as many wishes as you want. This is your made up tradition.”

“It’s raining wishes on you.”

“Raining for your wishes.”

“God this is embarrassing.”

“T it up.”

“T what up ?”

“What do your need for a rain of wishes ?”

“What happens when it rains ?”

“An umbrella.”

“What ?”

“An umbrella, sweetheart.”

He closed his eye in frustration and dropped his upper half into my lap, whilst we all laughed at his slow mind.

“Oh shit. Umbrella. So sorry, so sorry.”

“The rain, the umbrella...”

“Dropping hints. Awesome, alright well let’s turn it over to some audience questions.”

                                               *

“Hi, my name is Julia and first I'd like to say, I love you all. Especially Joseph Morgan and Danielle Campbell.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I love you Daniel.”

He squeezes my thigh and leans in to kiss my head. Before deciding to move his arm around my shoulders and hugging me into his side. I rested my hand on his thigh as I hugged him back.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, whilst the audience all awed. Which prompted the red in my cheeks to darken. I sat back up straight and he returned his hand back my thigh, yet this time a little higher up and whilst stroking the fabric of my dress up my thigh.

“My question is for the whole cast and it is, if you were able to play another role...who would you wanna play ?”

“On our show ? Or just in general ?”

“Yeah. On The Originals.”

“I..I think I would choose Hayley. The Hyrbid female. She's a pretty cool character. Your welcome.”

“Um, I would play...Klaus. Mind you probably better but...”

“I don't wanna play anybody else, I wanna play Elijah.”

“I would play, Elijah....purely because it would be an absolute blessing to wake up that hot everyday and he's a pretty awesome character.”

He smirked at me and moved his hand further up my leg, his fingers now resting at the hem of my white lace thong. I gulped a little but held my composure. It seemed hat every time I complimented him, he got further up my leg and closer to my core. Like a game...and I was more than happy to play.

“If...If I had to absolutely play someone else uh, I would play Oliver because I just think he needs to be brought back to the show...and uh #saveollie. Bring him back !”

“Uh, I would play Elijah because I think I look damn good in a suit.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Buttoned up to the naval.”

“There we go. I know it's distracting for you, my body.”

“I cannot concentrate. I refuse to continue.”

“Um, I would play Genevieve. I thought she was a really cool character. She was a lot of fun to work with.”

“I see some Genevieve fans in the house, awesome.”

“Um, yeah I think I might choose Elijah too. I think uh, it's a really cool character that Daniel has created.”

“They both quietly believe they can bring more to the role, is what they’re saying. Not quietly, they're saying it to an audience of like three thousand.”

“Only because of what you've done with it Daniel.”

                                            *

“Hi Guys, wow that's loud. I'm so sorry, my name's Marissa. First, I want to say Daniel I watched saving hope and your death killed me. I'm so sorry that you died.”

“Yeah, tell me about it ! I was gutted.”

He squeezed my thigh a little more and started making circles with his finger on the spot closed to my core.

“Oh my goodness.”

Yeah, oh my goodness indeed. He really knew how to make a woman feel good, without hardly doing anything...quite literally.

“Um, so my question is for Julie and Michael. Um, I was wondering...there’s so much violence on the show and so much adult stuff and I was wondering if the network or the studio has ever told you, 'No you can't do that’ ?”

We all started laughing in reply to the questions.

“Oh, we have a story about that don't we...Leah.”

“I don't wanna tell the story again.”

“There's things that we did that couldn't be shown.”

“So here's the thing about broadcast television is that, apparently you can decapitate someone, you can drive a knife into a vampires skull, you can rip out their heart, you can shove a pencil up their nose, you can stab them a million times with glass but when stimulating a sex scene...if there's any movement at all that one would define as thrusting...”

“No thrusting. Pull back on the thrusting.”

“A motion that originates from the hip.”

Charles decided to get up and share a demonstration of thrusting and everyone on stage started laughing and the audience started to scream. Daniel gripped my thigh a little harder, due to jealously. I didn't have to ask him what the reason was, I already knew. At the best of times, he was not a jealous person. He loves and trusts me and Charles a lot and he knows nothing would happen but when he's horny and in need of some attention...he does get jealous. Understandably so, I know because we both do. His pinky finger then started to stroke me, through the lace of my pants.   

“It’s difficult because I don't actually remember thrusting being in the script. That was something the actors chose.”

“It was a creative choice. I mean, look at Charles...you would do the same thing. Also, let's not forget the originators of this little problem.”

The audience stayed silent, indicating that they weren't sure how to react to her last sentence. I leaned into Daniel and rested my forehead against his bicep in retaliation to Leah's comment. I couldn't stop giggling, despite the finger rubbing against my wet thong and the blush rising on my cheeks. Daniel was using his other hand to pinch his forehead, whilst chuckling.

“Come on guys, explain it.”

“So, what happened was we were doing the flashback sex scene of Elijah and Lily's wedding night. Daniel got a bit too excited and started to thrust a little and I tried hiding it by opening my legs a bit more.As I did, my underwear snapped because it wasn't as flexible as I thought. So, I had to pay a fine for showing too much skin because the sheets had come off of me a little and we hadn't realised. Not that it was much it was just a little side boob, still.”

“So, it wasn't the thrusting ?”

“No, ironically it wasn't.”

“Let me tell you. There was some excellent, simulated thrusting in those scenes. That was cut, per broadcast standards. While, I think in the same episode seventeen people got brutally massacred. It is what it is.”

“Some of the best thrusting. I hope it makes the special features.”

“Charles called Leah, for some extra rehearsal before hand.”

                                           *

“Hi I'm uh Skylar. Um, I know that between you there has been a myriad of different supernatural creatures. Uh, Phoebe...I think you've been a werewolf, a witch and a mermaid. Uh, in really life...What would you wanna be ?”

“Well, I would say witches because witches don't have to turn on a full moon and they don't have to be like plagued by vampire...the demon’s of vampires. They can just have all the power and really cute outfits...and if I can look more like Danielle Campbell. I'll take it.”

“H20 rocks!”

“Thank you ! Well actually I-Im gonna say a mermaid then. Like, life is better under the sea and I think I would be a mermaid.”

“I don't know-"

“Merman ?”

“Merman. No, I...um. I'm pretty pervy...so I'd say like invisibility.”

“Um, so I'm not pervy at all unlike Daniel. I do think that Heretics are soooo cool though. Like, they can do magic and they are vampires but still have all those human capabilities...like procreation. So, yeah a heretic.”

His hand stopped stroking me through the lace of my panties suddenly and I instantaneously felt a cold gush of air race up my well-shaved legs and punching me in my core. I felt the frayed edges of my lace tickling my upper thigh, where they shouldn't be. Hinting that my favourite pair of thongs had been snapped. I turned to Daniel and narrowed my eyes at him whilst he just continued the panel, like nothing happened. His hand when back to it’s original position resting on my thigh, clearly in punishment for making a comment about his pervy answer. 

“Nah, I'm happy where I am. You know, Hyrbid. Definitely not, invisibility. When I joined the show, I thought I was only gonna be a vampire so I was thrilled when I was a werewolf-vampire. I'm sticking to my guns.”

“I like being the token human. I'm just gonna like stay there. Create more mermen.”

“Season three, season of the mermen.”

“The next spin-off.”

“That would be so cool, let me be a mermaid. I would kill it .”

Joseph put his arm on the back of my chair, looking at me after I made my wish known to be a mermaid.

“You better not cum in the water.”

The entirety of the room ruptured into fits of laughter. Even Daniel, who had now moved his hand closer to my core again. Letting his fingers stroke my entrance. Meanwhile, I continued laughing...ignoring the feeling of my husband’s gentle and sensual touch. 

“I’m blushing.”

                                            *

“Hi, I'm Katie. If you were to go to Comic Con, on the floor. Is there anyone you would dress up as ?”

The first thought that came to mind was pleasing Daniel. If I said him there was no doubt he'd give in. The problem was, was it a risk I was willing to take...at a comic Con in front of three thousand fans and some of my closest friends.

“Daniel Gillies.”

Every one repeated my answer and whilst doing so I was discovering that I was unequivocally correct with my thought process. Sure enough, Daniel plunged his fingers straight into my entrance leaving me to deal with the resounding squeal that ripped from my throat. Causing Daniel to laugh at me, influencing Joseph to join in.

                                            *

The final question had just been answered by Daniel and I was leaning my head into Daniel's shoulder to help with controlling the moans erupting inside me. The warmth in my stomach has just appeared as quickly as it vanished again, Daniel had stopped and chuckled at my irritated expression. Nevertheless, I got up and shoved my now broken thongs in Daniel's jacket pocket and waved at the fans with a bright smile on my face as we all walked off. We had just got out of the fan's eyesight when a hand delivered a hard slap to my barely covered assume cheek as this dress was so short. I span around and grabbed his wrist before dragging him further backstage, behind a screen next to the dressing rooms.

“What do you think your doing ? Playing around like that during a panel and then not even letting me finish ?!”

I didn't even let him reply as I dragged his face down towards mine and kissed him lustfully. His hands wandered down to my waist and clutched the already tight fabric tighter around me. The other unoccupied hand drove down to my ass and clutched it, allowing the skirt to rise up. Exposing the bare skin of my cheek. I used one of my hands to undo his zipper before pulling his dick out and stroking it. Clearly, he was eager because before I knew it. I was pressed up against the wall, sticking my tongue down his throat and moving myself up and down on his already hard cock. What we hadn't realised that the screen had moved, as Daniel had knocked it with his foot when walking to the wall. He pulled away and smirked at me.

“You told me we wouldn't have public sex after last time.”

“This is the last time Mr Gillies, I'm promising you.”

We smiled at eachother and kept going against the wall. His tip caused some tension when arriving to a depth he hadn’t before but it was a pleasurable one most definitely. The lips of my pussy enveloped his tip and he ran it through my drenched folds before deciding to plunge into me once again. I was about to scream and he knew I wasn’t good at being quiet when he fucks me so good. I clung onto him hoping it would relieve tha ache he’d created by filling me so good. He sat down on a chair that was sat in a chair of the little area backstage. Sitting down, allowed his thrusts to speed up rapidly and his face to rest in between my smooth and nearly covered beasts. He bit my hardened buds through my dress and caused a shive of please to shoot down to my core and promoting me to burst.

I then decided to let go and couldn’t help but let out a gratifying scream for him. I was coming down from my high and the screen pulled back. A man that looked about 40, eyed us disgusted and told us to move it.

“Well atleast I won the deal ?”

“Remember the deal we had ? If I was right about is having sex in public again no matter how much you denied that we wouldn’t. Your were very adamant.#

*

MASTERLIST

[spike-and-faye]

Hello, I require your infinite wisdom please!! :O So I just finished cowboy bebop and I am so confused like who the fuck was Julia. WHAT was Faye's past. I literally never process tv shows and the bebop was not immune to my stupidity LMAO like... I guess the ending just really confused me, from what I gathered Spike and Vicious were friends? But then they weren't? And Julia dated Vicious but also Spike? And he? Went after Vicious even after Julia had died? I am Confusion. Please help. Thank u...

Oh BABEY I am so glad you asked! :) Be prepared for a long answer and I apologize in advance for how incoherent it will probably be.

ALSO Please note: this show is fucking complicated. I have watched it all the way through several times a year, every single year, for over a decade now, and I am *STILL* finding new shit every time I watch it. It's packed with symbols, motifs, allusions and underlying themes that are just so rich. It is so extraordinarily well-written that it could give a lot of classic literature a run for its money. I'm literally working on an in depth literary/film analysis my husband lovingly calls my Manifesto on the series right now. SO PLEASE don't beat yourself up about not catching everything on the first go round.

HEY BTW for anyone who hasn't finished the show, please know there will be MANY spoilers ahead!

Anyways ~

1.     Spike / Julia / Vicious:

The information we get on Spike's past, including Vicious and Julia, is pretty limited considering how big of an impact they have on the story. We get our first glimpse in Session 1: Asteroid Blues, then again in Session 5: Ballad of Fallen Angels, Sessions 12 + 13: Jupiter Jazz, and Sessions 25 + 26: Real Folk Blues. I recommend reviewing these episodes for you Julia and Vicious fix.

What we know:

Spike and Vicious were both members of an organized crime syndicate called the Red Dragons, which is roughly analogous to the Yakuza or the Mafia. Their positions in the organization are not clear, but there are some images alluding to them being hitmen, and they likely rose up in the ranks as they were close acquaintances of Mao Yenrai, a Capo of the Red Dragon.

Spike and Vicious were close comrades. Spike taught Vicious everything he knew about fighting, and the two had a deep trust in each other. Which Spike fucked up ….

^^Vicious looks hot asf here

Julia was Vicious' lover/girlfriend. One night in 2068 (three years prior to the time we watch in the Bebop) Spike is injured, presumably from a syndicate-related fight and he passes out in front of her door. She takes him in and nurses him back to health and he SIMPS HARD for her. We’re all but told he's in LOVE love with her. They start an affair, and Spike tells her he's ready to abandon the whole life - the syndicate, Vicious, Mao, all of it - and they could run away together.

WELL Vicious finds out about this whole affair, and is DOUBLY betrayed because his literal best friend and girlfriend have been having an affair, and tbh I think he was just as jealous of Spike's attentions as he was of Julia's. (Whether or not it’s a sexual thing for Spike … well … I have my own headcanons about that). SO when he finds out they're going to run away together, he gives Julia an ultimatum: you can either kill him, or I'll just kill you both. Spike had written her a letter about meeting him in the graveyard to start their new life together, which she tears up to hide his location from Vicious. (This is the falling ripped up pieces of paper we see in Spike's flash back in Session 5).

^^ r/gifsyoucanhear

**NOTE: There are those who disagree with this view, (looking at you Cowboy Bebop wiki) instead suggesting Vicious and Spike were buds in the past, but then hated each other once they were both considered as potential successors to Mao. That's why Vicious wanted him dead, and he was enlisting Julia (who he didn't necessarily have a romantic connection to) to help kill Spike since he knew Spike loved her. Personally, I think there is plenty of evidence that Vicious also wanted Julia, and in fact was already with her, when Spike started seeing her. If you want me to cite my sources please send an me an ask about it :)

Spike gets the idea, whether by her just not showing up or word around the syndicate being like YO Vicious wants you dead. Despite Vicious' ultimatum to Julia, he was gunna kill Spike either way. SO he sets up an ambush, and SadBoy™ Spike walks intentionally into their trap. Somehow, he doesn't die, though the entire syndicate thinks he did. (Note Annie's reaction to seeing him alive in Session 5). It’s also implied that this is where he lost his eye.

HIS EYE - possibly the most important symbol in the show so I do have to mention it. In episode 26, he explicitly explains to Faye that one of his eyes only sees the past. (PS this isn't dissimilar to Jet's arm… we can get into that another time). Basically, he's constantly living halfway in the past and halfway in the present, and describes the past like a dream he can never wake up from. Because dysfunctional or not - the syndicate WAS his family. (Again - see his relationship with Annie, Mao, and Vicious (prior to Spike's betrayal)). It's his reminder that Julia didn't run away with him, and that he'd left behind that life for her. (He didn’t know she was being threatened until the final episode). Basically Spike is hyper-fixated on what he had and what could've been.

Not long after this, Spike starts bounty hunting because like? What else is he going to do. He doesn't care if he lives or dies but if he has to be alive, he may as well be able to eat. He joins up with Jet Black on the Bebop.

TL; DR: Spike stole Vicious' lover, Julia, so Vicious made Julia choose between her killing Spike or Vicious killing them both. She instead went into hiding and Spike thought he'd been stood up. He fake died and got the hell outta dodge.

2.     What was Faye's past?

Ok let me start by saying Faye is my wife and my life. HOWEVER I hated her the first time I watched this show circa age 13 because I thought she was annoying/vain/shallow (also because #internalizedmisogyny lol am I right fam). Good news! She is all those things! But she's also very lonely and scared and an amnesiac and secretly a sweetie and she realizes she loves the crew of the Bebop like family.

SO my wife's backstory:

she was born in the 1990s (#only90skidsremember). There's some debate over her race/nationality, but due to the images of her hanging out in Merlion Park in Singapore, my bet is that she's Singaporean. She comes from a wealthy family with a big house, and we see some utterly *adorable* film of her as a child/young adolescent in Session 18: Speak Like a Child. I cry everytime </3

^^ Holla for the representation

In 2014, circa age 20, she and her parents were going into space when the shuttle they were on had some kind of malfunction/accident and it killed an unknown number of people, including her parents. At the time, the technology didn’t exist to be able to save her, so she was put into a cryogenic sleep state. Meanwhile, the Lunar Gate accident occurs, breaking up the moon and causing rock showers on Earth's surface. Most people died, moved to Mars, or settled underground.

She wakes up from her cryogenic sleep in 2068. (Also the year Spike leaves the syndicate.) She's 'woken' by the corrupt Dr. Bacchus who plans on charging her for the years and years of medical debt she's accrued. (See Session 15: My Funny Valentine.) Luckily a lawyer takes interest in her case (Whitney Haggus Matsumoto) and tries to help get rid of her debt. The two fall in love, but turns out Whitney is a Scumbag. He's actually Dr. Bacchus's nephew, and faked his death, writing Faye as the sole inheritor to his will. This means she'll take on all his debts. So baby girl has LOTS of debt at this point.

In the intervening years prior to her joining the Bebop, she gambles, cheats, gains a lot of street smarts, and adopts a very seductive character to get her way. She joins the crew on the Bebop in Session 3: Honky Tonk Women.

TL;DR: Faye is Austin powers

YIKES this is so long I am so sorry. Bitches are obsessed with this show. (I am bitches)

3.     The Ending

Okay I'm going to present this in the way, in my scholarly opinion, would be correct, though there are SO many interpretations other than simply 'Spike died :/".

To understand the plot of the last couple episodes we actually have to go back to Session 5: Mao is instructed* to sign a treaty with a rival syndicate called the White Tigers. (*He's instructed by The Van (Council of identical creepy old men) who are the actual head of the dragon. I think we only see them in Session 26.) Well - Vicious is a Bastard Man and he and his fellow mutineers blow up the White Tiger guys' ship and slit Mao's throat. Before he dies, Mao is like "Gotdamnit if Spike was still here this shit wouldn't have happened." Later in the Cathedral battle, Vicious explains to Spike he killed Mao because Mao 'lost his fangs'. He planned on killing Spike for good her, IMO, so there'd be no rival to take over as Capo for the Dragons.

^^These guys are The Van btw

THEN in Session 25, the Van basically catches Vicious and is like “you killed Mao and now you have to go to Time Out.” The Van also decides to just kill everyone associated with Vicious, just 2 B safe. That's why there's a big ass shootout at the Loser Bar where Jet and Spike are chilling, drinking, (missing Faye and Ed and Ein lol) and Shin (younger brother to Lin, who's helping Vicious overthrow the Dragon) explains all this to Spike. OH and PS JULIA IS ALIVE AND HERE IS HER LOCATION :). (**Notice Spike's reaction at this point is different than his reaction in Jupiter Jazz when he hears there's a Julia on Calisto. Much less excited… hmm…).

SO THEN you know we get some flashbacks of the past as previously explained *and* Julia just happens to run into Faye. She recognizes that Faye is one of Spike's friends from the Bebop (she was keeping tabs on him it seems) and picks her up. Faye doesn't know who Julia is but is like damn bitch I'm a little gay for you. (I mean … that may just be my bi ass projecting, but Faye is REALLY struck with her. Look at how she describes her to Jet, I mean come on.)

 Faye's like, 'we should team up' and Julia says 'no thanks but also tell Spike to meet me at *the place*'. Meanwhile back on the Bebop Spike and Jet are talking and Spike goes on about some dream woman who was his other half. (We assume he means Julia … I have my reasons to doubt this … I have a lot of angry DMs about my opinion here lol but I just do not give a fuck (: I can expand on this in another post or you can refer to the title of my fucking blog haha) Personally, I think Watanabe personally left this specific scene open ended, the same way he does with the ending and various other things.

more like SIMP Spiegel

ANYWAY Faye comes back to the Bebop to tell Spike about Julia, and Jet gets intel from a former cop buddy that there's some shit going down with the Dragons. (Again, the Van is hunting down everyone ever associated with Vicious, including your pal Spike). Bebop is attacked, Faye tells Spike what's up with Julia, and he heads out.

 PAN TO VICIOUS chained up - about to be executed - but what's that!? It's a bird!? It's a pla- no it's just a bird. (With one glowing red eye … hm … reminds me of Spike, also the drug Red Eye. Pls let me know if you have any thoughts on this). Just a bird with a BOMB! Explosion (RIP bird c. 2065 - too soon), Vicious kills the elders, his buddies show up and are ready to go fuck shit up.

this show could not be more of an aesthetic

MMMPhhh okay RAINY CEMETERY. Spike and Julia. She draws a gun, explains why she didn't meet him that day, and then hugs him. Now Spike is not *great* at showing his emotions but he literally just stands there. Maybe it's a stoic expression of how sad he is that he never knew she still cared, when it seemed like she dumped him. Maybe he's finally getting some closure on his past. Maybe the past doesn't mean the same thing it used to. (I'll elaborate later on this).

They go to Annie's to get stocked up on stuff, she lets them know she denied knowing Spike was still alive and hey also the Van was assassinated by Vicious and his guys so. Watch out for that. Then her shop is surrounded by Vicious' guys and she dies :(. Spike and Julia escape to the roof, but she's shot and dies in Spike's arms, and says 'it's all just a dream' :(. (Refer to: Spike living in a dream of the past).

Anyway Jet SAID he wasn't gunna go after Spike but. Jet's parental instincts kick in (oh yeah he was shot in the leg earlier btw) and he goes to Sitting Bull to see if he knows where Spike is. He basically says yeah Spike's about to die somewhere. (I want to do a further analysis on all the Sitting Bull scenes.) Well conveniently Spike returns to the Bebop, eats, tells his story about a tiger-striped cat. (At one point Jet asks if he's going there for her, and Spike is like well she's dead now so whatever). THEN we get to the scene where Faye is like HEY YOU CAN'T GO OFF AND DIE ASSHOLE and he's like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I 've been living in the past so I might as well see if I'm living now. (**This will play heavily into my interpretation of the ending). Faye is pissed, shoots the ceiling and he goes off to the syndicate headquarters to fuck shit up.

He basically John Wicks his way through the building, Shin dies, he and Vicious have the big boss battle and whatnot. He kills Vicious and stumbles back out down the stairs and says "Bang!" and collapses. We pan to the sky and see a star fade away.

Well that explains the plot … now here's what I think happened!!! ALSO may I mention, anon - you picked up on something I feel like a lot of people miss out on. Why *did* Spike go back to kill Vicious if Julia was already dead??

Basically, once it became clear that anyone associated with Vicious was being killed, Spike knew they'd hunt him down, and they weren't beneath Kill-Billing their way to him, (i.e. systematically destroying this companions to get to him). And for all his apparent indifference - he really loves his new found family. Jet is literally like an older brother to him. Ed is a little sister. Ein is well … a very good boy. And Faye? Well the relationship is complicated, and I'm not going to get into the 69,420 reasons I ship them here, but I think it is beyond argument that he really does care for her, even if that just in a filial way. He didn't want the syndicates to kill them for their association to him, or in order to get to him. So he did what he had to do to protect them. *AND NO* I am not saying that he didn't love Julia. But it was clear that his desire was no longer to run away with her. I think he genuinely loved and cared about her, but at some point between Jupiter Jazz Pt 2 and now, he accepted that their time together was over. Now he had a new raison d'etre, which is the Bebop.

I think at this point Spike has 'woken up' to reality (as he implied to Faye in their final conversation in episode 26: "Look at these eyes. One of them is a fake, because I lost it in an accident. Since then, I have been seeing the past in one eye, and the present in the other. I had believed that what I saw was not all of reality...I thought I was watching a dream that I would never awaken from. Before I knew it, the dream was all over." (This is from the sub btw I'm too lazy to look up the dub transcript.) He wasn't going there to die, he's going to find out if he's really alive. This line is fucking cool and everything - but it's implications are multitude. I won't go into them all here but basically : what makes him alive now is that he's free from his past. He's alive because he has this new family and protecting them is all he really wants now. Spike was protecting Jet, Faye, Ed, (and Ein) by going and facing the entire syndicate, knowing that their lives would all be in danger.

SO - did Spike die? Well again - Watanabe has purposely and artfully left this open ended. Well, if we're following the symbolism from Sitting Bull, then yeah, the man is as dead as disco, and wouldn't that be a fitting ending? BUT at the same time, Spike always refers to having 'died' before (meaning when he was ambushed by the syndicate, and they all thought he died, and he pretty much did). Don't forget that in  movie (takes places roughly between episodes 22 + 23, and yes, was made AFTER the series but whatever) he like .. DIES dies. He goes to the afterlife and everything. He wakes up to find he's chilling with Sitting Bull, who's like nah it wasn't your time to die yet. So the fact Sitting Bull confirms Spike will die in the final episode, means yeah, Spike is pretty much dead.

BUT -- okay now hear me out -- could this death in the final episode be a death to his previous life? The person he was in the syndicate? Now that he's extinguished the Red Dragons for good, is it not possible that its merely *that* life which has ended? That's the optimist in me saying that, but if it keeps me from staying up all night crying, I guess it'll have to do. Watanabe definitely wants to leave it up to the viewer, so whatever you think, I feel like there's validity to it.

WELL any anon, sorry for the fucking lecture - and believe me, I could've said MUCH, MUCH more - but I enjoyed this question. I always love talking about this show so please all you fuckers feel free to message me or send an ask about anything any time. I am really slow at replying because #life'sAbitch.

Love you all.

SY,SCB <3

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 13

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

Thomasin was horribly ill in the morning due to the combination of her courses, sleeplessness, and anxiety. Etheldreda summoned Elaine without needing to be asked. 

“Are you often like this in the early days of your time?” Etheldreda asked when she was sure Thomasin was, for the moment, finished vomiting in a bucket.

“Not often, thank God,” Thomasin croaked. 

There was a knock at the door. A moment later, a very small Elaine came rushing in. 

“Mercia is with me,” Elaine said, following after her miniature. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The little girl looked very much like her mother. Her curly blonde hair was light but still a shade or two darker than Elaine’s straight, pale tresses.

Thomasin did mind but she wasn’t in a place to object.

Elaine removed her satchel and unpacked its contents: around a dozen small jars filled with herbs and flowers. She set a small cauldron of water over the hearth to heat while she muddled peppermint, ginger, and herbs Thomasin did not recognize into a goblet.

The child parked herself beside Thomasin’s bed. “This my doll,” the child said proudly. “Her name Batty.”

“She’s very pretty,” Thomasin said. “Did your mother make her for you?”

“No. It’s present.”

“A gesture of good will from the queen,” Elaine said from the hearth. “It used to belong to one of her daughters.”

“I make her dress. See?” She shoved the poppet straight into Thomasin’s face so she could get a good look at its wrapping. 

“Very pretty,” Thomasin said, carefully pushing it away. It had an odd smell to it. Lavender, Thomasin thought, and perhaps milfoil.

Elaine finished ladling hot water into the goblet of herbs and brought it to Thomasin. “You must wait a little before drinking this.”

“How long?”

“Until the water turns brown.”

Thomasin frowned. “Lovely.”

“You sick?” The child climbed onto the bed beside Thomasin. Thank God Etheldreda had already changed the bedding.

“A little.”

Mercia leaned forward like she was sharing a secret. “Is it lady sickness?”

“Mercia,” Elaine called. “Stop bothering Lady Thomasin. She has to drink her potion and prepare for the day.” She gestured at Thomasin to start drinking. 

The hot, murky water smelled and tasted considerably better than Thomasin had anticipated, but she would never admit that. She made a face as she drained the cup.

Mercia took the liberty of scooching closer to Thomasin and crossed her little legs. “You got castle?” Mercia asked.

Thomasin looked to Elaine, silently willing the woman to shut her daughter up, but she was back to meddling with her herbs by the fire. “Not anymore.”

“I not have castle,” Mercia said comfortingly. “You have horses?”

“My family had some, yes.” She was without a horse of her own since her mare’s death the year before.

“Not anymore?”

“Not anymore,” Thomasin confirmed.

“I not have horse. You got –”

“Etheldreda, I think perhaps I might bathe. Could you send for a tub? The hot water unknots my muscles.” Thomasin was planning a veritable monologue – as long as she was talking, the child was not – but Mercia had already lost interest in Thomasin.

She crouched beside her mother by the fireplace and plucked dried leaves and flowers from Elaine’s many jars which she then ate.

“A note, milady,” Etheldreda said. She handed the paper over to Thomasin. Thomasin tore it open, expecting something from Henry. It was not. “Are you still ill, Lady Thomasin?” Etheldreda asked.

“It’s from Lawrence,” Thomasin said. All three women fell silent; Mercia tugged at her mother’s hand in a soundless demand for protection and an explanation. “Perhaps I am still unwell.” Thomasin settled back into the pillows.

“What does it say?” Elaine asked.

“He would like to walk with me in the gardens.”

“In Heaven’s name, why?” asked Etheldreda.

“I’m supposed to marry him.”

Mercia wasn’t totally sure what was happening, but the toddler knew how to distract everyone from their problems. Something she heard from Henry and Simon when she caught them by surprise once.

 “Goddamn it!”

*

Thomasin shouldn’t be surprised that Lawrence expected to spend time with her, since they were, after all, engaged.

She supposed she should be pleased in some way. Or that she would be pleased if she were really going to marry him. He was handsome – or would be, if he weren’t directly compared to Henry. He was long-limbed and slim, a combination which made him look foxlike and sly. He was about Henry’s age, which put him somewhere in his early thirties, at least ten years older than Thomasin if not more.

It was a small age gap by most standards; most women wed by sixteen to men at least twice their age, often far more. Justina’s husband was nineteen or twenty years her senior.

As for Lawrence’s personality . . . 

Thomasin originally imagined Lawrence to be the sort of man who took joy in chaos and death. Instead, he was reportedly the sort not to find joy in anything at all. According to Elaine, he wasn’t the angry type either. Indeed, he seemed rather disinterested in general. 

The snow had started to melt, so Lawrence suggested a walk through the garden. They had no chaperone, but there were at least a dozen others walking along the paths. Etheldreda had altered Thomasin’s borrowed clothes so thankfully she didn’t get mud on the hem of her skirts.

The conversation was bland, to say the least, until Thomasin grew tired of being polite.

“I’ve heard the stories about you,” Thomasin finally said. “How you killed that baron’s wife and daughters. How you let your men rape the servants.”

Lawrence took a deep breath and shut his eyes, summoning his every ounce of patience. “My lady, that is what soldiers do in war. The reason most of these men came from Normandy in the first place was to enjoy the spoils of war. More often than not, those spoils are women.” He took another deep breath and went on walking. “I tell you truthfully, I’ve never had a girl against her will. That’s more than I can say for most of these other barons.”

“Indeed,” Thomasin said again.

“Does it surprise you to hear that most of the men here at court have raped defeated women?”

“No.” Thomasin wasn’t a fool, but she didn’t like thinking about that sort of thing. “But not all of them. Henry and his brothers haven’t. Roger hasn’t.”

Lawrence snorted. “Roger’s perversion sways him from women to men, and the Cavills are an anomaly.” 

Thomasin had no idea what the first part meant but she agreed with the second. 

“Henry cares for you deeply,” he said after a moment, tone perfectly conversational. “Tis a pity, that. His family are the most honorable men in Normandy if not the world, but I fear he’s a fool.”

“Why are we speaking of Henry?”

Lawrence stopped walking and raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Thomasin straightened up. “All right. What’s your point, then?”

“I’m sure the two of you will cook up some plot to overthrow me so that Henry can take my place as your intended. Frankly, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Thomasin made a face which she couldn’t hide. “Then why not just release me and let me marry him?” Her words dripped with judgment at his stupidity

“The king gave you to me, not him. He would be insulted if I gave you up for no reason. Besides, you are the sort that I want.”

“The sort,” she repeated. 

“You are beautiful, self-possessed, intelligent, strong. And you speak your mind, which i think saves a great deal of time.” He shrugged. “It’s a sound match.”

Had he just complimented her? The words were kind but his tone was so detached it felt more like an insult. 

Thomasin had the thought that maybe she should hold her tongue. Maybe she shouldn’t say what she wanted to. But she did “How sound was your last match?”

His ears went so red that Thomasin thought they might burst.

“There you are!” Elaine said, feigning relief. She conveniently appeared from a bend in the garden path. “I was looking for you.” She folded Thomasin’s arm into her own. “We must get you back to bed or I fear your promenade will be spoiled with sick. Do you mind terribly, Baron, if I take Lady Thomasin back to her chambers for some much-needed rest?”

“By all means,” he said - in a similarly sarcastic tone to the one Thomasin often used. “I’m due to visit your Saxon brethren in their dungeon anyway. I’ll be sure to give them your best.” He smiled and bowed. “Ladies.”

The women curtseyed and muttered farewells.

“Did you hear him?” Thomasin hissed when he was out of earshot. “He mentioned the Saxons.”

“I heard him,” Elaine said tersely. 

“Shouldn’t they have been executed by now?” asked Thomasin.

“One of the men told me that William is reluctant. They’re fine warriors, supposedly. The king would rather have their loyalty than their heads.”

Thomasin sighed. “Little chance of that.”

**

Henry was among the best warriors under William’s command. He was without a doubt a finer warrior than Lawrence, but he was still vulnerable because he adhered to a code of honor that Lawrence did not. Lawrence’s ruthlessness and detachment made him highly effective, though, and Henry would not make the mistake of underestimating him. 

There was a large stone courtyard between the castle itself and the wall William was building around it to make it into another bailey. Henry joined Roger, Charlie, and most of their men to train. Knights were expected to keep their skills sharp and were therefore expected to practice their skills, so it wasn’t strange for him to be there. No one suspected he was training for a duel, or if they did, they were quiet about it. 

Henry was barely out of the castle before a little voice called his name,

“Henry!” 

He turned around just in time to see Mercia, Elaine’s daughter, crash into his solid legs. He barely had time to maneuver so that she wouldn’t run smack into his scabbard.

“Ah, Mercia!” he said brightly, hoisting the girl into his arms. “You must be careful running. You could’ve gone straight into my sword and be chopped in half!”

“I careful,” she said. “I not cut in half. See?” She opened her arms as if to show him she was whole.

“And what about Batty?” Henry asked, nodding to the doll in her hand. “Is she as careful as you are?”

“Batty not a person, Henry. She not need be careful.”

“Ah, of course! That’s why she won’t talk to me!”

In fact, Batty didn’t interact with Henry because of an unfortunate incident in which Kal thought the poppet belonged to him and nearly tore it to shreds. Mercia had yet to forgive the dog. Her mother repaired the doll as best as she could, though it still bore the marks of its ordeal. Elaine was clever enough to replace some of the lost stuffing with the same herbs she used to treat people with similar wounds. It was Simon’s idea to add lavender to it to help the child relax.

“Where Simon?” Mercia asked.

Simon was Mercia’s dearest companion and she was his. He often referred to the girl as his own small angel, and sometimes asked her where her wings had gone.

Henry would’ve gladly been her playmate, ready for a footrace or a game at a moment’s notice, if his older brother had not asserted himself in that role. Simon’s special relationship with her daughter kindled Elaine’s affections for him until they mirrored his own admiration and tenderness for the healer. 

Simon, like Henry, longed for the joy and companionship of a wife and family, though his desire was even greater than his brother’s.

Charlie, too, wanted a family of his own, but he would not admit such a thing aloud. He could be prickly and cold to those he disliked while charming, funny, and kind to those he did. He often made up his mind about people quite quickly, and once his opinion was formed it was difficult to change. Such was the case with Thomasin.

“Simon is still in the north, at the castle I told you about,” Henry said to the little girl. “I know he would rather be here playing with you.”

“He coming back?” 

“Soon.”

She frowned. “I miss him. He my friend.”

“Am I not your friend, too?” Henry said with false sadness.

“Yeah, you my friend but you not best friend like Simon.”

Henry sighed theatrically. “I suppose I understand.” He looked around but there was no sign of Elaine, only a handful of serving women pinning wet clothes on a line. “Where’s your mother?”

“She with Lady Thomasin.”

Henry broke into a smile at the sound of her name. He always did. “You’ve met Tom?”

The child frowned again. “Who Tom?”

“It’s a name I call Thomasin.”

“Tom is name for boys. Thomasin not a boy,” she explained patiently.

“Of course, of course. Please forgive me.”

“I forgive,” she said, patting his shoulder.

Henry chuckled. “Is your mother friends with Tom? Thomasin,” he corrected.

“Yeah but they not play today. Thomasin not feel good.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Mercia motioned for Henry to bring his ear closer so she could whisper to him. “Lady sickness.” She pulled away. “Mama say not to talk about it cause it a secret. Cannot tell!”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Henry promised. He was quietly relieved to hear it was nothing serious, but he frowned over it. Was she really sick, he wondered, or had her engagement to Lawrence prompted her to withdraw from court life?

“Thomasin pretty,” Mercia said.

“Very pretty,” Henry agreed.

“I like her hair.” The little girl started wiggling, a silent signal for Henry to set her down. “She sad though cause she gotta marry Lawrence. Lawrence really scary. And it a bad thing so I say, ‘Goddamn it!’” She shouted the curse; a female servant nearby looked shocked and horrified at the sound.

“Shh!” Henry said, putting his finger to his lips. “Who said that in front of you? Where did you hear it?”

“You say it. When Kal sneaked up on you and barked. You jump and you say, ‘Goddamn it!’”

“Shh!” Henry said again. “You mustn’t say that.”

“Cause why?”

Henry didn’t have a good reason handy. “Ask Simon when he gets back.”

“Why you not tell me?” she asked, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

“Because I’m not your best friend.”

Henry went for two rounds with Roger, winning both. He then sparred with his squire, since it was his responsibility to train the boy, but he lacked the patience for it today. “Practice your footwork before next time, Jamie. It’s too easy to knock you on your arse.”

“We have an audience,” Roger murmured, nodding to a small, barred window at the base of the castle that looked in on the dungeon. A red-bearded face was just visible through the iron grate. One of the Saxon prisoners, no doubt.

“Can I be of service, sir?” Roger called out. He was courteous by nature, but he became excessively so when speaking to a handsome man – even if that man was in chains.

“Are you preparing for a fight?” the man asked. 

Henry opened his mouth to tell the Saxon that it was none of his business, but Roger answered instead. “Aye.”

“What are you fighting over?”

“What do you care?” Henry said. The Saxon shrugged. “A woman,” Henry finally said.

The Saxon didn’t approve. “One woman is just as good as another. It is no great tragedy to lose one to another man. Certainly not worth dying over.”

Henry though the Saxon must not have known many women in his life if he thought they were all interchangeable. But fair number of men, Saxon and Norman alike, shared his sentiment: So long as she ran the household and gave birth to sons, a woman was a woman, and her personality was of little consequence.

“I disagree,” said Henry. 

“Then she must be the kindest, most loving woman in all of Christendom if you’re willing to die for her,” the Saxon remarked.

Roger smirked. He spoke low enough that only Henry could hear when he said, “She most certainly is not.” Henry shot him a look which he pretended not to say. “What’s your name, Saxon?”

The Saxon sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes in thought but did not reply.

“I’m Baron Roger,” Roger said. “This is Henry, my brother-by-law. And you are?” he prompted when the Saxon didn’t respond.

The Saxon replied, “Cerdic.”

**

One of the squires came around with a note from Henry when Thomasin was readying for dinner. It told Thomasin to come to the servant’s corridor at once. She hurried to finish preparing and went straight to the meeting spot.

“Henry?” she whispered, tiptoeing through the silent hall.

“No.”

Thomasin’s hand flew to her chest in surprise; her fist closed around Henry’s ring. “Charlie,” she gasped. She took a deep breath. “You nearly frightened the life out of me.”

Charlie did not look even the least bit contrite. In fact, he looked murderous. “You can’t let Henry get himself killed for you.”

Straight into arguing, then, Thomasin thought. A gentleman of Charlie’s pedigree ought to feign civility before starting trouble, at least in the beginning of the conversation.

“Do you think I want that? That I’m happy to have Henry risk his life?” Thomasin snapped. “Do you think I haven’t tried to reason with him?”

“You must try harder.”

“I must do nothing of the sort.” Thomasin agreed with his sentiment, but the way he spoke to her made her see red. “You try to reason with him! You’re his brother.”

“I have tried,” he growled, each word as sharp as a razor. “He’s determined to kill himself for you.”

Thomasin was ready to murder Charlie. It was a long time coming. “It’s not my fault that Henry fell in love with me,” she snapped. And that was true, wasn’t it? She hadn’t encouraged his affection, at least not at first. Had she? “I can’t control what he does. Go on hating me if you like, but it won’t change anything for anyone.”

“There’s another way.” Charlie swallowed his discomfort. “If you invite him to share your–”

Thomasin shook her head. “I’ve tried that,” she said, blushing all the way to her hairline. “He won’t. He’s too damn honorable for it.”

“Well you don’t need him to now if it’s already been done,” said Charlie.

“I don’t follow.”

Charlie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I know about that night at the pond, just before you were injured.”

She shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he knew; they hadn’t exactly been subtle. But Charlie assumed too much. 

Thomasin took a deep breath and ignored the feeling of blood rushing into her cheeks. “Henry and I didn’t . . .”

Charlie shut his eyes and tried to be delicate. “Madam, you were unclothed –”

“He didn’t bed me,” Thomasin said strongly. A moment later, she added, “Not quite.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell the king you are not virtuous; you’ll be released from your betrothal without getting my brother slaughtered.”

Thomasin exhaled through her nose. “I’ve considered this course of action,” she confessed. “But it seems unwise to lie to the king, especially for a Saxon. Besides, Lawrence might demand proof. They’ll know I’m lying if they examine me.”

Charlie believed his brother was too fine a man to take advantage of Thomasin, but he was a bit surprised that she was a virgin – or claimed to be, at least. She didn’t possess many virtues that he was aware of, and he hadn’t expected chastity to be one of them.

“It won’t come to that. Some of the men will attest to what they saw that night in the camp.”

Some of the men? Good Lord, how many of them had seen her and Henry together? The fact that any man had seen them meant the whole group knew what happened; gossip spread through camps like wildfire through a dry forest.

Good. Wonderful. Now she was a shrew and a whore.

Charlie was calmer now but his gaze stayed sharp. “My brother loves you. He says it and shows it all the time.”

Thomasin’s throat tightened. “I know.” There was never a doubt in her mind about it. She had the love of a good man. Not many women could say that.

“Yet I’ve never heard you say you love him. I’ve never seen you show it,” he continued. “I won’t let him die for a woman who doesn’t love him back.”

He was right.

She didn’t love him. She couldn’t.

It would betray the promise she made the night her father died never to forgive the invaders that stole her life away. That promise and the anger and pain beneath it were all Thomasin had left of her old self. She doubted she’d ever see any of her siblings again, or her home. That promise was her quiet rebellion against a change she could not fight.

She was allowed to feel tenderness for him, even affection, but she could not love him.

“You don’t know a damned thing about what I feel,” she snarled. She could hardly contain her fury; her whole body shook with the urge to lash out at Charlie and the difficulty of controlling it.

“Perhaps I don’t,” Charlie said. “But don’t allow a good man get killed for nothing.”

Thomasin’s throat was suddenly dry and tight and sore. “I won’t.”

[strangerobin]

Rue: Chapter 9 (Jasper Hale x OC Imagine)

Note: I'm literally in tears right now. I have 7000+ words over 13 pages on my word processor just for this chapter.

Night after night, summer and winter, the torment of storms, the arrow-like stillness of fine weather, held their court without interference.’

The swaying wheat and barley waved in the warm breeze; the burning sun burned like the beacon it was. The entire world was brown and golden. It was hot, it was suffocating. It was terrible.

“The land is barren.” Adeline muttered, her body rocking to and fro with the movement of the wagon, her eyes were trained into the far distance, squinting in the broiling sun.

“You’re being over dramatic.” Henriette’s tone was dry, her hands on the reins, spurring the horses to continue its trot.

“I hate it here already.” Adeline announced, crossing her arms in a huff. “Why couldn’t we have gone somewhere else? Somewhere with more greenery than this? There’s still plenty of places to hide in Louisiana-”

“Staying in the same place over and over will attract attention and you know it.” Henriette was losing her patience too, turning her head sharply to glare at her sister. “Your father will find us if we keep staying in the same place.” The lines on her face and around her eyes deepening, the ever growing frown settling over her wrinkled forehead.

“…We left Ralph in Orleans. All alone.” Adeline bowed her head in grief, hiding her face behind her hair and avoiding those piercing eyes of her sisters. “Six feet under and his body wasn’t even cold when we left.”

Her sister sighed again, though this time it betrayed a tenderness and affection that she only displayed towards her loved ones, freeing one hand to gently comb back Adeline’s soft tresses.

“Silly girl. How many times do I have to tell you? Ralph hasn’t gone anywhere, he’s always with you and me. Always.”

“He’s dead, that’s what he is.”

Henriette continued rubbing her shoulder’s soothingly, as if she were comforting a child. “But he’ll always be in our hearts, and that’s what matters.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Come Addie, let’s not fight.” The older woman smiled lightly, turning the younger girl’s head towards her for closer inspection. There were bags under her eyes and an unnatural pallor, a sullenness swirling behind. Even her usual bright eyes were dulled. “I hate it when you’re angry or sad.”

The younger girl shook her head and curled around the older ones side, much like a feline would.

“I still hate it here. Everything’s so dry and barren and ugly. I’m only putting up with it because of you.”

“What will you do when I’m gone?” Henriette sighed.

“Then I’ll just have to die and pursue you."

“Silly girl.” The elder smiled at the other indulgently, yet her eyes betrayed a melancholy she failed to hide. “You don’t mean that.”

He saw them long before they arrived.

Initially a speck in the distance, and then gradually enlarging until he could see their wagon gradually pulling into town along the dusty highway.

In truth, Jasper had noticed the old lady at the front first; her face hard and etched into a permanent frown, doing nothing to dispel the presence of her wrinkles and only succeeding in making more pronounced than ever. He would have turned away back to his field then had he not caught sight of her in the setting sun, the last of the sun rays reflecting a pale face.

She had a simple shawl wrapped around her head, protecting her from the dust. But it did nothing to hide the beauty she possessed, there was an ethereal feel to it; a otherworldliness. There was also a melancholy to the girl; with her head bowed, eyes downcast, looking so dejected. It captured his attention, struck a chord in his heart, and later he would stop to think about her, in his work, during mealtime, before he went to bed, in his walk.

His eyes followed their receding figure unconsciously as they made their way into town.

He did not know her name yet.

But she had unknowingly sent a ripple in the pool of his heart

Except he did not know of any of this yet.

It was another sleepless night.

Adeline clutched at the tattered copy of To The Lighthouse she had found fallen behind the shelf in the library and staggered downstairs.

Sleep had evaded her yet again. When was the last time she had had a good night’s rest? Or perhaps it was herself who was avoiding it altogether. Whichever it was, she barely slept a wink in the past week. she could almost feel the rush of agitation in her nerves now, the lethargy in her frame, the shortness of her temper.

She needed to get out.

This was a paradise for vampires she supposed. A secretive hideout for the Cullens, no one bothered them here. The town was too enamoured by the dazzling family, the town’s police chief was Bella’s dad and the only visitors they ever had were the wolves from the nearby indigenous tribe. And anyways there was ever only one person who came most of the time.

But it still unnerved her. The jitteriness she experienced in Colorado never fully left her. And she was still startled by the smallest things, the tiniest sounds.

It was the house. She finally concluded. It was Jasper.

She couldn’t rest with Jasper around. No she couldn’t.

Pocketing the few cigarettes she still had remaining into her worn satchel, Adeline grabbed the giant coffee flask she had prepared and stalked out of the house into the dreary morning of Forks in only a thin parka and boots.

As she stalked down the clearing at the back of the house, she felt a shiver down her spine and a feeling of being watched. Turning back she just made out a silhouette at the upper left window.

She didn’t need to squint to know who it was.

She flipped the bird at him before turning around to leave in a huff.

Jasper saw her multiple times in town over the next few days. The two had settled down into one of the cottages his parents had owned bordering their own farming fields; he had yet to formally acquaint with his new neighbours. But it would seem that the arrival of the girl had already sent the town into frenzy.

For one, her dress making skill was excellent. Her embroidery so fine and so meticulous that all the ladies of the town were soon sending in requests, until she had to put them on hold until she could finish the earlier ones first.

Two, she was soon the gossip of the entire town. She’d already had seven proposals in the course of a week, all of which she had rejected without even a side eye. Men were in awe of her beauty and wondered aloud at her ever downcast eyes and the enigma that she was. For the women in town though, she was the subject they loved to hate, for monopolising the attention of the other half of the town. Jealously was an ugly sentiment and hostility an ever isolating one. And the girl soon found herself alone and alienated without a single soul to call as friend.

Soon they had a third topic to discuss on.

She was seen trying to storm the local bookshop for new reading materials, but on seeing her, the store owner had kindly redirected her back to her ladies’ weekly digest.

“You don’t make any sense! Why am I not allowed to read?! It’s only a novel!"

“Child, novels are hardly a suitable reading material for a lady. It promotes unrealistic fancies in young minds like yours.”

“That’s a condescending observation sir.”

“Who do you say you live with again?”

“My grandmama.”

“Well young lady, I suggest you have a word with you grandmother then.”

“Wait!”

The man slammed his door in her face.

And no matter how hard she pounced on the wooden door, the shopkeeper refused to open the door again to the girl.

“Darling, sweetheart.” A pair of well-meaning elderly ladies stopped in their tracks to regard the girl. “Don’t be mad at the man, he’s only trying to do you good. What kind of gentleman of good status would want a woman with her head stuck in a book? It’ll only spur you on into fantasies after fantasies; no man would want a wife who would neglect the family. What would you possibly do then?”

Her lips pursed now and Jasper could see how upset she was with the way her shoulders were hunched and her teeth biting into her lips so hard it drew blood but somehow her eyes shone with a fierce defiance he had never seen.

“A man who loves me would not ask me to give up any of that.”

She let slipped this one sentence before turning to leave with her head held high.

“What a peculiar young girl.” The lady turned to her equally surprised friend and wondered aloud.

The crowd dispersed to return to their day and errands.

Only Jasper was rooted where he was, his mind replaying the conversation the girl and the lady had, the silent dignity, the crackling flame inside her.

He looked to the bookshop again.

Adeline always thought that their relationship now was like a predator to its prey; Jasper always on the outlook, ready to pounce anytime she showed the slightest weakness. But when she did look closely, it wasn’t difficult to find him shuffling awkwardly in the corner when they were in the same room, looking at her with unveiled longing and then the predator would turn into a wounded puppy.

Adeline wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. That he should feel hurt and yet still longed for her, instead of choosing to hate her for all she had done. It was beyond her comprehension. If their fortunes had reversed, she couldn’t say for certain if she would feel the same.

She wondered if he ever thought of the past, their past together. Because she was convinced that he viewed it through a rose tinted lens

Adeline lighted a cigarette and puffed thoughtfully. What she had read at the break of dawn still fresh on her mind.

“There it was before her - life. Life: she thought but she did not finish her thought. She took a look at life, for she had a clear sense of it there, something real, something private, which she shared neither with her children nor with her husband. A sort of transaction went on between them, in which she was on one side, and life was on another, and she was always trying to get the better of it, as it was of her; and sometimes they parleyed (when she sat alone); there were, she remembered, great reconciliation scenes; but for the most part, oddly enough, she must admit that she felt this thing that she called life terrible, hostile, and quick to pounce on you if you gave it a chance.”

She must admit, Woolf’s writings always did have a knack of making one feel and think differently; to approach life, time and memory in a new light; to reflect. The lighthouse, was the never changing vantage point in the passage of time, the ever eluding desire that one chased after but never could quite grasp; ten years was a very long time in a life span, people change, for better or for worse; people die, and all was left was a memory frozen in time. And even that fades, lost in time and space. Nothing was everlasting, no mark or testimony survives the void.

Not even love.

The brutality of life and reality had made sure that it did not.

She briefly considered her own life.

The innocent child Henriette had protected at all cost when she was alive, who was immediately killed by her father after Hettie’s death, gutted and left to her own demise in some dirty gutter. And in her place, all that was left was this new emotionally dead and drained Adeline. Haunted by her own past, her deeds and her misfortunes, completely broken and never quite pieced back together right.

Adeline had taken the gamble with life and lost miserably.

The fog was getting thicker now, the wind lost somewhere in the thicket. The spring air was stagnant, and the soft tendrils of smoke curled around her hair, her frame. For a moment, she stopped in her tracks, just to take in this present moment that would soon morph into another forgotten memory of hers.

He found her at the far end of his parents’ field, looking out into distance, sniffing.

“Hey are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She sniffed again no doubt surprised that someone had crept on her, scrubbing at her face furiously. “Never better.” Before turning around to scrutinise him.

“Who are you?”

“I don’t think we’ve formally met ma’am, I’m Jasper Whitlock.”

“You’re Mr and Mrs Whitlock’s second son.” The girl gasped, before ducking her head formally and shaking his hand. “I’m Adeline, Adeline Ruelle. Your mother’s told me about you.” She looked around again before smiling awkwardly and gesturing to the fields. “I’m trespassing. This is your land. I’ll go-”

“No, no. It’s uh… it’s alright. I don’t mind, Miss Ruelle.”

“But still. I shouldn’t be disturbing the lot of you.”

“Wait. Uh I… I couldn’t help but saw what happened in the town square.”

“Oh.” She frowned before looking down, clearly getting the wrong idea. He wasn’t there to reprimand her too. “It’s alright, I won’t-”

“No wait, I don’t mean it that way. Here.” He quickly thrusted the bundle he had been hiding behind his back this whole time.

Confused, Adeline clutched at the bundle, feeling the hard texture of the package before looking up to stare at him agape. Her hand quickly dove in to tear at the wrapping paper to reveal a hardback book.

“Frankenstein?” She held the book up questioningly. “Why are you giving me this?”

“You wanted this right? Or was it not this? I could take it back and change it if you want-”

“No, no. This was what I was looking for. But why are you giving me this?”

“Because you wanted it.” He stated as a matter of fact. When his answer didn’t dispel the confused look on Adeline’s face, Jasper struggled to explain himself more. “I don’t think they were right in refusing to let you read just because they think it’s not suitable for a lady. Anyone should be allowed to pursue their own knowledge…”

“This isn’t really the most educating thing you know.” For the first time, there was a playful smirk on her lips. “It’s a novel on a man making a monster.”

“You know what I mean.”

Evidently she was grateful. “I- how can I ever thank you for this? How much does this cost? I’ll pay you back the money… I’ll pay you double for all your trouble-”

“No, no it’s fine. Please don’t pay me. I wanted to help. You looked so sad and I just wanted to cheer you up is all.”

“Wait, where are you going, Mr Whitlock sir?! Wait.”

In his mind he had embarrassed himself. It was a stupid move buying her the book. Now she would think him worse than all her other suitors. He had intruded into her privacy and had condescended her by deciding that she would want the book. He had never lost his cool once before, not in front of the girls who had flirted with him, and this new girl had come along and thrown him off his balance.

He didn’t realise till then that his heart was beating erratically and his hand clenched over it unconsciously.

What a stupid stupid man that he was.

“Adeline.”

She was momentarily shocked from her thoughts. Looking up, she found that she had come across the Cullens. There was Alice with the little family.

Alice looked concerned, no doubt surprised by her haggard look and her sleep deprived countenance. Even Bella and Edward looked alerted too. Despite being eccentric, Alice was, Adeline concluded, actually quite a nice person, overly friendly maybe.

“You look tired, are you alright?”

“I’m alright.” She shrugged nonchalantly. Even though the exhaustion was catching up on her fast.

Alice hesitated before smiling. “We’re going to hunt. Do you want to join us?”

Ah, so they were going to hunt. She remembered her surprise when for the first time she had heard that they were vegetarians and that they only fed on animals. Henriette had half forced half bullied her to adopt this kind of diet since she was born, yet she had never seen another doing the same before.

But she didn’t like to hunt in the presence of another, it made her self conscious. And anyways, she was trying her best to steer away from the company of the family.

“It’s alright.” She remained aloof. “I’ll hunt on my way.”

“Will we expect you by dinnertime?” Bella spoke up at the back, Adeline could literally see the trying in her effort to be nice. She quickly looked to Edward who’s face remained neutral.

“Hmph. I’ll be back.” She nodded her head at the latter.

Their paths diverging, the rest of the clan soon took their leave of her. And Adeline looked on at their receding back from her spot.

They would all soon be a distant memory of hers, there was no need to be formally acquainted with any of them.

‘With her foot on the threshold she waited a moment longer in a scene which was vanishing even as she looked, and then, as she moved and took Minta's arm and left the room, it changed, it shaped itself differently; it had become, she knew, giving one last look at it over her shoulder, already the past.’

This time she was waiting for him.

The moment she caught sight of him strolling towards the perimeter of his fields after supper, Adeline immediately jogged towards him, a large basket in tow.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Mr Whitlock.” She chirped, an unusually bright smile graced over her porcelain features, a stark contrast to the melancholy he saw on her first day in town.

He decided that he loved seeing her smile more than anything right then.

“Jasper is fine ma’am.” He ducked his head bashfully. “Mr Whitlock’s my dad if you will, everyone around here just calls me Jasper, Miss Ruelle.”

“Fine. But then you must call me Adeline. It’s only fair.”

“Miss Adeline.” He bowed half out of jest.

“Adeline.” She corrected him, though there was a twinkle in her eyes. “So where’re you headed to?”

“I’m just heading to the creek down below to rest for a bit, it’s been a long day.”

Adeline nodded in understanding and he was somewhat amused to find the girl trotting behind him. Chuckling, Jasper swooped in to take a grasp at the handle of the basket and carried it. When they finally settled at a shady spot near the creek, Adeline leaned forward to open the latch of the basket.

“I wanted to thank you,” she began, pulling out a batch of baked cookies. “For the book.”

“Its nothing-”

“No! It wasn’t just anything! I…” He watched as she frowned and look away, debilitating with herself, trying to find the right words to express herself.

“No one’s ever done this for me… ever.” She finally murmured, her hands playing at her aprons absentmindedly. “So… yeah.” She pulled at her ear sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re not interested in my ramblings. I should go… it’s your rest time.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

They sat in mutual silence, though there was less initial awkwardness.

“Do you-”

“So I-”

They started at the same time. Sheepish, Jasper gestured for Adeline to continue speaking. She smiled another of her easy smile.

“What I wanted to say was that you really don’t know how much it means for me… for you to get that book for me. My grandfather taught me how to read and write. And between the both of us, this was our most favourite book of all time. But his copy was destroyed in the floods some years ago so when he died… I wanted something to remember him by. That’s why I desperately wanted it at the bookshop.” She grew sentimental then. “Of course it’s not the same copy we used to have, but it’s the sentiment of it that’s the most important.”

“Then I’m glad I got it for you.” And he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

“Here.” She handed him a cookie, “you still haven’t tried it yet.”

Tentatively, he took a bite out of it. “It’s delicious!"

Adeline grinned, evidently proud. “Of course. And they said no decent southern gentleman would want me. You’ve just proven them wrong!”

Jasper laughed. “Well you’ve certainly stolen my stomach away with that amazing bakery.”

Adeline reclined onto her elbows in her spot and squinted in the dazzling sun. “You know it’s not half as bad here as I initially thought.”

“Must be because of my company.” He spoke jokingly.

“Hmm. Maybe." Jasper found himself observing Adeline’s every move. Now she was closing her eyes, basking in the glory of the setting sun, humming to herself. The warm ray of light accentuating her long neck and her collarbones and-

She turned suddenly, her excited eyes on him.

“Have you ever read Frankenstein?”

She knew she was getting closer and closer towards the sea, despite the fog being thick and hanging over the threshold. She just knew.

There was the faint crashing of waves now, getting louder by the minute. And the brambles of the forest floor was spreading out.

Now all she needed to do was-

And she stepped out into the sunlight. Despite the sun, it was not the Texan sun she remembered from her memories, it barely gave her warmth. But it did dispel some of the mist that clung around her like tendrils. Here was a cliff of some sort, with the sea roaring right below her feet, the moss and the wildflowers carpeting the entire forest ground until it ended abruptly at the ledge, to a steep drop of some fifty or even sixty feet.

It was indeed beautiful.

Adeline watched mesmerised, how the waves licked the cliff side, thundering, throwing up white foam and algae and whatnots.

Sighing, she leaned back against a tree trunk. The sky was grey and endless in the horizon. It was dreary, and she felt that it suited her more than the Texan sun and blue sky ever did.

She readjusted her sitting position against the tree and took out her book.

James and Cam and Mr Ramsey were heading to the lighthouse now and Lily Briscoe was finishing off her painting ten years later.

‘“It will rain,” he remembered his father saying. “You won’t be able to go to the Lighthouse.”

The Lighthouse was then a silvery, misty-looking tower with a yellow eye, that opened suddenly, and softly in the evening. Now—

James looked at the Lighthouse. He could see the white-washed rocks; the tower, stark and straight; he could see that it was barred with black and white; he could see windows in it; he could even see washing spread on the rocks to dry. So that was the Lighthouse, was it?

No, the other was also the Lighthouse. For nothing was simply one thing. The other Lighthouse was true too. It was sometimes hardly to be seen across the bay. In the evening one looked up and saw the eye opening and shutting and the light seemed to reach them in that airy sunny garden where they sat.’

She closed the book with a sigh.

To be fair, she knew that Jasper thought about their past, just as she did. Except, they each remembered things and events differently. Or maybe it was just that for her, with the knowledge of hindsight, everything was brought into a new light and became tainted.

Could she look back with pure joy now? At her days with him which was now, in hindsight, filled with regret and more importantly, guilt.

There was some truth in it she supposed.

Perhaps there were more facets in their memory than she would give credit for. There was the truth, and then there were all the different angles you could appraise it from. Both were looking at the lighthouse, but he no doubt looked on with fondness and through a rose tinted lens, and she with hindsight could only look on with a sense of dread.

She only wished that he would not be so enamoured by his sentiments that he was blindsided by the truth.

With that thought, her mood soured again and she threw the book into the ground. Subconsciously, her hand went to the locket hidden beneath her shirt where she fingered the engravings to calm herself.

Adeline closed her eyes and listened to the sea.

After that fateful afternoon, Adeline was showing up at the fields every few days. And the creek immediately became their mutual meeting point. And on days when she was too busy with her work to venture out, Jasper would swing by, just to see her, have a chat. They lived close enough, and he was always giving excuses after excuses about why he was there. Excuses he thought she saw through with that complicit smile and the twinkle always present in her eyes. Her grandmother was less impressed however, but she never treated him ill, always being ever cordial, receiving him, making tea, working in the corner, muttering to herself in French.

The days blurred into one, and towards the end of that summer, his parents invited the Adeline and her grandmother over for dinner one fine evening. His mother took an immediate liking towards the girl, and his father called her the daughter he always wanted.

It made Jasper feel giddy, that his family loved her so much. He was almost proud.

It would be the best summer he ever had.

They had read Milton, the Odysseus, the Aeneid, Austen, Dickens, and many more.

He was always surprised to see Adeline brimming with so much knowledge at such a young age. He had wondered at the background of her grandfather, but she always deflected the questions with a wistful smile then he learnt not to ask them anymore.

It was perhaps cliche to say, but she really was not like other girls. Adeline was open, she was kind and sincere and more importantly she was the sun herself, a burning beacon, radiating with warmth. One look at her and he found the day’s worth of handwork and fatigue to be nothing.

Jasper knew the implication of his thundering heart. Romance was not something new to him, he’d heard it from fieldworkers, men who were only a few years older than him.

But he had his doubts too.

He saw how the men tried to talk to her, and though she never mentioned it once to him, he heard enough to know about all the confessions and declarations and proposals she received on a regular basis. Her refusals did nothing to quell his disheartened heart. Her suitors ranged from various backgrounds including pretty boys with wealthy backgrounds and ancestors who were founding members of this town even.

What was he? Nothing but a simple farmer boy. How was he to compete with then?

Every time he heard of another refusal, his hope would get a little higher, that perhaps her smiles and her openness were only directed at him. Yet one look at himself and his meagre possessions, and he would lose what little confidence he had.

Even so, even so she never missed a day with him. Never forgot an engagement, never failed to show up.

That she would welcome him warmly each time, with her radiant smile and her gentle words, even if she would ramble on and on about her long and tiring day and her tedious work.

He was failing miserably to quell his beating heart. Some days It was pure agony, other days he would find himself hope against all hope that perhaps, just perhaps that she would reciprocate even a fraction of his feelings.

But his doubts held him back each time, when he was on the brink of a confession. He would be reminded of the string of failed proposals that came before his and he would become afraid and stopped himself short.

Was it better to protect this friendship, this comradeship that they had?

But with each passing summer day, as he got ready for harvest, his heart was becoming more and more heavy.

It was too much.

He didn’t think he could go on like this.

The ravens cawed and she awoke with a start. Standing up immediately, she was dazed to find that she was not in her simple attire of boots and parka anymore. Gone was the sea and the grey horizon; the pines surrounding her were tall and ominous, a light mist was beginning to form around her, obscuring her sight further on. She was in her Sunday best again, the cream coloured dress with those understated embroideries she had seen herself. There was the chain of daisies at the hem of her sleeves and around her collar. She looked around, trying to comprehend her surrounding.

So she was in a dream then.

A nightmare perhaps.

Might as well walk to the very end of it so that she could wake. Though she loathed to think how it would end, hopefully not with her screaming bloody murder again.

Trudging onwards, the claustrophobia was getting more and more intense, the fog thickening and the trees crowding more and more together until there was no distinguishable path that she could follow. She felt suffocated.

Just then, there was a chill around her heart and it began to thump fiercely. Turning her head cautiously towards her back, she was instantly struck by an intense fear.

Run, her instinct was screaming in her ears.

She ran like the frightened bunny that she was. She could hear the laughters of her sisters, and worse of all. The shoutings of her father.

There seemed to be no end. The brambles tore at her dress, tearing the embroideries, the mud splattering all over her apron, the loose branches leaving small open cuts over her hands and face. The laughters behind her never ceased. She was bone chilled and yet she daren’t stop in her tracks. For fear of being caught, for fear of a punishment worse than death.

And just when all hope was lost, there in the distance was an opening!

And out she ran into a field of wheat and barley. Shocked, she looked back cautiously at the edge of the forest she had just dashed through.

The eeriness had gone and it was only just a stretch of low woodland and shrubberies. Her nightmarish forest was gone.

Cocking her head to the side in confusion, Adeline nevertheless continued to trudge on and at the end of the wheat field, a warm inviting cottage stood in its midst.

The smoke gently curled around the chimney, the vines over the walls, the blue cornflowers at the windows.

It was painfully the same as she had remembered.

She quietly opened the latch to the door and stepped inside the threshold.

“You’re back.” As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, she saw a man in a simple cotton white shirt and dark pants gently settling the white bundle in his arms into a crib. “How was your walk? Refreshing?”

“Yes…” Adeline stuttered. “Jasper?"

“Yes darling?” The man turned with a tender smile towards her, arms opening wide to welcome her. This time she did not hesitate and rushed towards his strong inviting embrace. Breathing in the strong familiar scent, feeling the warmth he radiated. All the while avoiding glancing at the crib she had seen.

“I’m tired.” She murmured. “Take me to bed?” She pleaded.

Jasper only chuckled.

As they finally settled in bed, his calloused hands, overused at the farm, began its motion of combing through her hair slowly, soothingly just like he did all the time when the two were in bed. Adeline closed her eyes and sighed. She didn’t want to wake up from this and back to the icy cold acquaintance that they now shared.

“I had the strangest dream.” She murmured to him, burrowing deeper into his embrace, her ear rested on his chest, and she could hear the strong beating of his beating heart. “I dreamt that I left you. And that it destroyed you so badly that you became something I couldn’t even recognise anymore. And then I hated you so much and you resented me so much for turning you into what you became.”

“Left me…” Jasper repeated to himself, his hand froze momentarily in its motion.

Adeline looked up in desperation. If this was a dream, at least she would keep him happy. This much she could do at the very least.

“It was only just a dream though.” She tried to smile, raising a hand to trace his strong jawline. “I could never leave you.”

He resumed his soothing motion, combing through her hair, massaging her scalp. She hummed and turned to listen to his beating heart again.

“No, because what would happen to us if you actually left?”

Ah… the bundle in the crib.

She imagined a young boy, with golden curls around his temple and warm inviting hazel eyes. Who would call her maman, who she would teach French to, and raise him and teach him well, just as she had done to her handful of brothers and sisters. It would’ve been domestic bliss. It would’ve been what she wanted if she had been human.

She was drifting in and out of consciousness again as she lingered in her impossible dreams.

The soothing motion over her scalp never ceased. In fact it became more and more concrete.

“Adeline…. Adeline…”

There was someone calling to her softly, far away, at the edge of her consciousness. And it was getting nearer and nearer.

Somehow she felt safe, warm and calm. A sense of serenity washed over her.

She was protected.

She felt a light peck over her lips.

A chaste little kiss.

She chastised without opening her eyes, though her lips were slowly pulling into a small smile.

“What are you playing at-” she mumbled in her sleep.

And then she descended into sweet oblivion.

They met in the fields as usual the sun casting its shadow towards the east, amongst the waving barley and the golden wheat. Adeline was chatting animatedly about the latest novel she had been reading.

He cleared his throat when she stopped to take a breath in between.

“I have something to tell you.”

Her brows shot up no doubt finally realising that she had been hogging the conversation table for the last half an hour or so, but she quickly composed herself and gave him a reassuring smile. “What is it? I’m all ears.”

“I’m joining the army.”

“What?”

“I’m joining the Texas cavalry.”

“Why?” She looked bewildered, and there was a frantic look in her eye. “Don’t you have enough to do in the farm? The harvests and the cattle’s and… everything! Have you talked this through with your parents?!”

“I have. They are in full support of it.”

“But why?” She pouted her lips cutely, but her voices sounded betrayed. “I enjoy our time with you here everyday, don’t you? If you join the army, you’ll be working and training everyday. I-” she stopped and looked away, embarrassed, scuffing the sole of her shoe over the ground petulantly.

He chuckled. How to make her understand? That he was doing this exactly because of her.

“Besides, you’re a landowner yourself. I know the land isn’t much, but it should be enough for you right?”

“Adeline.”

“So why would you suddenly decide you want to become a soldier?”

“Adeline.”

“I mean sure I know you’ll excel in it anyways. You’re going to charm you way up. Then you’ll forget little ol me.”

“Adeline.” Jasper finally had to smirk. "You never let people finish what they have to say.”

Adeline huffed in annoyance and crossed her arm. “Fine. By all means!”

What she didn’t expect next was for him to clasp her hand in his.

“You might think that a farmer is well respected enough, but I’m a second son. When my parents die, my brother will inherit the farm. I can help with the farm, but it will never be mine. I’ll never have an income as prosperous as my brother will if I continue to work for him. When I do marry and then someday have children of mine, would I want them to endure the same fate as I have?”

“But if you love her then surely-”

“Would I be able to have better marriage prospect as my brother does? The answer is no. I would never be able to do better than him, I would be at a disadvantage, less likely to get the girl of my dreams. No decent gentleman would marry their own precious daughter to a second son. That is, unless if I make a name for myself in some other way.”

“By joining the army?”

“It was either that or become a priest.”

“There are other ways surely! You can study to be a lawyer or… or a businessman or anything other than joining the army!”

“Don’t you find some of the younger soldiers charming and dashing? I overheard you chatting with-”

“I care about you too much to want to see you get hurt!”

There was a solemnity in her clear blue eyes that betrayed nothing but sincerity and concern. It left him feeling giddy, that gave him a confidence he had been lacking for sometime to carry out what he was about to do that he had psyched himself up to do for weeks now. He couldn’t help but grin.

But it irked her to new heights.

“Stop it, don’t laugh! It’s not a laughing matter!” Adeline pouted again, slapping him in the arm repeatedly, and this time there were angry tears threatening to fall from her beautiful orbs. “I worry about you! Even if you seem no have no care about your own safety!”

“Fine! Go! Go join the bloody army if you love it so much for some bloody girl you think you’ve fallen in love with! See if I care when you get killed off by some stupid I don’t know what!”

She turned around and by the slight tremor in her shoulder and the sniffing he realised with a newfound panic that she was crying. This wasn’t what he had intended to do.

“Adeline.” He soothed, coaxing the girl to turn around to face him. “Are you crying?”

“No I’m not.”

“Hush, then turn around see that I can see you properly.”

When she did turn, he could still see the devastation over her face. The tear trails over the apples of her cheek, those eyes brimmed with unshed tears. But she stared back with great defiance, her chin held haughtily up. He has to suppress a tender sigh, his heart was so heavy with love for this girl, the little treacherous thing thumping against his chest so loudly he was sure she would’ve heard it.

“Adeline, you must know how important this is for me."

She looked away then and feigned boredom. “Why are you telling me this Mr Whitlock? You’re wasting your time on me. Shouldn’t you be looking for your bloody lover to her about this.”

“I really should shouldn’t I? But I need your help and advice.” He studied her closely as she bit her lips so hard it almost drew blood, as she raised a hand to finger her earring in an effort to calm her nerves mo doubt. He slowly reached out a hand to hold her chin and turn her pretty face back to his before delivering the final blow.

“But suppose I’m looking at her already right now as I speak?”

“Looking at her…?”

“Won’t you tell me how do I stop her tears and make her understand that I’m joining the army so that I can have a future with her? So that I can stand on my own and go to her grandmother to ask for permission to court her and marry her?”

He saw the moment the realisation hit her, Adeline’s mouth dropped as she stared mutely at him.

“You… I… I don’t think I understand what you-”

“I’m telling you that I love you Adeline. And I want to marry you.”

He stopped abruptly then to take a deep breath, his heart beating ferociously now, the rush in his ears was almost deafening, he was too fearful of what she would say.

But when her looked into her eyes, there was a newfound vulnerability, one he had never seen before. She wet her trembling lips.

“This isn’t a joke you’re pulling on me is this?”

“I would never joke about this.” He said with resolute.

Bashful, she looked down and sucked at her lips. And if he had looked closely, he would have seen how her cheeks were tinted red, not by the summer heat or the burning sin.

“No one has ever said that to me.” Her eyes were brimming with tears again though her lips were slowly, but surely drawing up into a smile. “I think… I love you too Jasper Whitlock.”

And that was the straw for him.

He stepped forward to close the gap between them, long arms stretching out to hold her tightly. Her arms slowly wound themselves around his neck, their face inches apart, looking straight into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t you think we’re a little too close for propriety’s sake, Mr Whitlock?” The corner of her lips tugging up playfully.

“Hush”. He thought his heart was going to burst. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

And under the setting Texan sun, amongst a golden burning world, they shared their first ever kiss, two hearts beating as one.

The thick clouds above were for once finally dispersing and the radiant sunbeams filtered in between, producing a luminous effect as it struck his skin.

The motion in his hand never ceasing, gently combing through Adeline’s hair as she herself laid on his chest, breathing in and out calmly. Without the hostility and the jitteriness, Jasper was almost fooled into believing that this Adeline was the same Adeline from his past.

But she was not.

Jasper sighed again, his heart so full of emotions it was painful.

He had wandered out after she left the house and subconsciously, or perhaps guided by a vengeful angel, he had stumbled across her, in the midst of a nightmare, curling into herself, whimpering. He acted on his natural instincts to soothe away the frown, and it mystified him that the moment he laid his hand on her head did the whimpering stopped. He couldn’t resist stealing a light kiss from those plump lips.

Looking down at Adeline’s serene sleeping face, Jasper wished he didn’t have to hide himself like this, that he could’ve held her when she was awake, her radiant smile guided towards him and himself only. Not like this, not when she wouldn’t even know that it was him who had comforted her and held her in her sleep, had warded away her nightmares, even if just for a few moments only.

Oh but he couldn’t let her know.

Every small movement now would send him into caution, to extricate himself from her before she woke, lest she would run away, lest he would startle her, deepen this gulf between them.

He surveyed their immediate surrounding, there was Adeline’s cassette player, the tiny thing’s battery had long since stopped running. He made a remark to ask her about the mixtape she had been listening to. The emptied coffee flask, the burnt cigarette butts. And there lying open with its cover up, its spine breaking right in the middle, was Rosalie’s old battered copy of To the Lighthouse. He remembered watching her going all out just to hide it behind the shelf.

It’s too painful. She had finally confessed one rainy day. But I can’t bear to throw it away. It’s like a mirror you hold up to juxtapose it with your own life.

He never read it, not in depth anyways.

He reached out to grab it and randomly flipped through it, scanning the words as he did so.

‘To want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain. And then to want and not to have- to want and want- how that wrung the heart, and wrung it again and again!’

“What is the meaning of life? That was all- a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years, the great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one.”

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 4/8

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 4: Duty is Sacrifice

Emma woke as the sun rose in the sky, the light beams breaching the window to her room. She stretched her arms toward the top of her bed and sighed loudly. “It is about time you have risen from your bed.” She heard Ruby laugh from the other side of her room. “If you are to go riding with Prince Killian, you need to get ready.”

She yawned and sat up in her bed. “The sun has not fully risen, even the horses will still be sleeping.”

“Just because you enjoy sleeping until the sun is high, does not mean the rest of the kingdom follows.”

“You exaggerate, the sun has barely made it beyond the walls, the day is young.” She put her feet on the ground and closed her eyes, there was a sense of excitement and dread to get to see beyond the walls of the castle today, she hoped that wherever Killian took her riding would give her a better sense of this new prison she would be trapped in once she married Liam.

“Will you be standing on ceremony this morning and wearing a gown to ride?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She laughed. “You know I hate riding side saddle; this town might as well learn who I am because I have no intention of pretending I’m something else for the rest of my life.”

“You are going to be a handful for the Prince, I can assure you.”

“Good.” Emma replied simply. “Perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted to take me riding if he wasn’t up for the task.”

“I was talking about Prince Liam.” Ruby giggled. “But interesting that your mind went to his brother.”

“It’s not interesting at all, I simply thought you were talking about our riding adventure you are busy preparing me for.”

“Of course.” She said with a sly smile.

“What is this tone?” Emma inquired.

“Nothing at all, I was simply pointing out that perhaps you find the younger Prince intriguing.”

Emma snorted. “Intriguing. He’s smug, conceited, arrogant beyond all measure…”

“So, you’re attracted to him?”

“I’m not saying he isn’t easy on the eyes. I’m quite certain he’s been easy on many a maiden’s eyes.”

“I think he’s sweet.” She swooned.

“Of course, you do.” She exhaled with a laugh. “Men like Killian Jones most often turn out to be nothing more than a child and you do so enjoy taking care of children, don’t you?”

The women fell onto the bed giggling before going about the rest of the task of preparing Emma for the day’s ride.

By the time they emerged from her chambers it was lunch time and Emma hurried to the dining hall in hopes of finding the Prince. When she entered the chamber, the Queen was seated as she sipped her soup. Emma stopped in her tracks, realizing she was alone in the room with the woman.

“Princess Emma, do join me for some soup.” Emma bowed her head and sat down at the other end of the large table. “Nonsense dear, I prefer not to have to raise my voice over a friendly chat.” She motioned for the man behind her to bring her food next to the Queen, Emma took the seat nearest to the woman. “There that’s much better.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Please call me Alice, I have always hated formality. My mother gave me a name, I quite enjoy hearing people use it.”

Emma laughed. “You sound like my mother.”

“Ah yes, Lady Margaret. She is a fine woman.”

Emma’s head snapped up at the mention of her mother, she knew that the situation between her father and King Jones was not a happy one, but she was unaware that her mother and the Queen were acquainted. She thought it must be awkward considering her mother was once betrothed to the woman’s husband.

“I was not aware you knew my mother.”

A small smile spread on her face, “Men choose to stand behind years of resentment and bitter rivalry, but women, women understand matters of the heart, don’t we, love?” She paused. “Your mother is a brave woman in a time when women are not encouraged to speak their minds; she is someone I have admired for years.”

Emma smiled fondly thinking of her mother. “She would be pleased to hear that.”

“Are you ready to see all that Jonesboro has to offer you today?”

“Very, I love riding and experiencing new things.”

“Judging by your attire, am I to assume you are an accomplished rider?”

She looked down at her clothing, “My father and I used to go riding when I was a child. My horse back home, White Swan, I’ve had her for years. Some of my fondest memories are shared with her.”

“Killian will be pleased to know he will not need to teach you how to ride. My son is not the most patient of tutors.”

Emma laughed. “I never would have guessed.”

“How are you healing? My sons told me of the attack on the road here.”

“Sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“We are all very thankful that it was not worse.” She said, reaching over to grab her hand.

“Had it not been for Prince Killian, I fear it may have been worse.” She said honestly without thinking.

“I am most pleased to hear that. Besides, I could not bear needing to relay dreadful information to your father.”

Emma was about to ask the Queen how well she knew her father when they were interrupted by Killian’s arrival. “Good day, Mother.” He announced when he entered the dining hall.

“At this rate, it is almost evening.” She teased. “Can you ever emerge from your bed chamber before the sun rises?”

“What would be the point of that, if the sun has chosen not to rise, why should I?” He mused and Emma tried to hide her own smirk.

“You’ll be pleased to know that Princess Emma is an accomplished rider and should be well suited for a trip to the countryside this afternoon. Please be sure to show her the fields, the flowers are quite lovely this time of year.”

“Of course, Mother.” He said, kissing his mother’s cheek and grabbing a slice of bread from the table. “Are you ready, love?”

Emma felt herself blush as he stared in her direction. “Quite.” She said simply, standing from her seat. “It was lovely chatting with you, Alice.” She added softly, not missing the way that Killian’s face softened at the mention of his mother’s name.

She followed Killian silently through the halls until they found themselves outside, people milling quietly about, barely recognizing their Prince walking amongst them as if he blended with the townsfolk seamlessly without calling notice to the fact that he was royalty. The ones that did acknowledge that they knew him, fondly shook his hand, nodded in his direction, and a few of the women earned a genuine smile from the man. She could tell that he was well liked by their people.

“This way, M’Lady.” He gestured her toward the dirt path that led to the stables in the distance. “You are quite the surprise, Princess. I half expected you to show in full dress, ready to promenade around the villagers as their future Queen.”

She rolled her eyes at his dishonest comment. “You most assuredly did not. You know full well that I am not a helpless lady in waiting who sits back on her station in life. I’m quite sure I could match your skill with a blade, and I don’t think I’ve ever pretended to be a damsel in your presence.”

He laughed, responding with more honesty this time, “I supposed that is true, you are not quite what I expected, Princess of Misthaven.”

She found her eyes rolling again at the formality of it all, “Emma will do. I never liked the sound of Princess anyway; it makes me feel as if I am to parade around in pink satin and lace with braids in my hair and birds singing on my shoulder. It’s tiresome and boring.”

“You’re sort of an open book aren’t you, love?”

She flinched toward him as he opened the stable doors. “Usually, no.” She answered honestly. “I guess I don’t feel the need for pretense around you.”

“Should I feel honored then?” He joked.

“I am most certain the only reason I feel that way is that you yourself do not seem to be of the type to keep up pretense, unlike your brother, you do not have to worry that one day the crown will sit on your head.”

“And you believe this means that I do not have responsibility, or duty to the kingdom?”

“You speak of duty as if you understand it.” She laughed.

“Duty is sacrifice. I understand it more than most.”

“Sacrifice? What is it that you sacrifice? Your ability to roam from bed chamber to bed chamber? Missing a romp in the hay due to diplomatic responsibility?” She paused and snorted, “I misspoke, your father sends your brother for that.”

“I suppose it is more honorable that your duty is to lay yourself down for my brother.”

Emma felt the sting on her hand before she realized that she had slapped him. Her anger rising to the tips of her ears. Her mouth sat agape for a moment, his blue eyes glaring back at her. “I do not feel much like riding anymore.” She said angrily, storming away from the man and rushing back to the castle as the tears fell down her cheeks with each step.

~*~

Killian stared at her retreating form, his cheek burning from the contact with her palm. He knew he shouldn’t have said it, knew that Emma was set against marrying his brother simply because of duty. It was unkind to mention taking away her right to choose who she wanted to lie with. Yet he couldn’t hold his tongue. He wanted to scream at her, to tell her that he wanted more than his own station in life. He could do more if only his father allowed it.

Killian had waited in the wings for years for his father to call on him, he could be at the front of the Royal army, leading the charge toward battle, he could lead a diplomatic mission to other lands, be trusted to speak for the kingdom, to show his father and the town that he was more than just Liam’s little brother. But his father had little faith in him, only seeing him as the boy who caused mischief, the boy who could not be tasked with important things.

It angered him that he was always ignored, he was the Prince who would never be King. He was nothing.

Killian stormed back toward the castle, determined to spend his evening lost in drink and naked maidens. He would distract his anger away with more inviting emotions.

But his anger was not stemmed the next morning when he awoke with a hangover, his sheets clinging to his naked form as if he had tossed in the waves of another nightmare at sea. He was adrift in torment, unanchored and floating toward an ocean of regret and sorrow.

He did not like being at war with the Princess, yet he could not bear to be in the presence of the woman either. Seeing her was torment on his mind. As much as he wanted to shout his anger into her gravity, he was more tortured by the way he was affected by her company. As much as he loathed arguing with the woman, the result intoxicated him.

His mood was apparent through dinner, though his mother did not speak of it, his father was quick to point out that he was once again being difficult. Killian brooded while he ate, not making eye contact with the woman seated across from him.

“I never did hear how you enjoyed the countryside.” His mother spoke from the end of the table and Killian gulped his food down.

“I was feeling ill and had to cancel the ride before it began.” She responded quickly.

“I can summon Victor to have a look.” His mother responded.

“Thank you, but I’m feeling better today.” She said softly, looking back down at her food.

“Probably for the best, I’m sure Liam would do a better job of showing you around than Killian, unless you are only interested in the inside of our many taverns.” His father grumbled and Killian stood quickly from the table.

“If you don’t mind Mother, I have other duties to attend to.” He said, more forcefully than he intended.

His mother nodded with a frown on her face. “Of course.” He turned and bowed angrily toward his father and glanced only slightly at Emma before he exited the room, ignoring the look on her face as she tried to make eye contact with him. His feet pounded toward the courtyard, needing to feel the air, the breeze, something that wasn’t the inside of these rock worn walls.

Before he realized where he was going, he had saddled his horse and took off into the moonlight riding toward the forest. When he reached the small pool of water in the middle of the lush trees, he dismounted and sat down on the rock that had held him many times before. Times when his anger or sadness had pushed him away from the castle walls that he called home.

He pulled the flask from his jacket pocket, uncorking it and tipping it toward his mouth, the warm liquor coating his throat as it warmed him inside and quelled his discontent.

“You ride faster than I was prepared for.”

“Bloody hell.” He jumped as the voice approached him from behind. The horse stopped next to his own, and Emma dismounted, dropping down to the ground with ease. “Did you steal my horse?” He exclaimed, staring at the dark black mare behind her.

She looked back and ran her hands across her main. “Is she yours? She’s a beautiful animal.” The horse pressed against her hand, allowing her to run her palm against its face.

“Aye, her name’s Jolly, but she has not been ridden by anyone except me since she was born.” He said astounded that the horse not only allowed her to saddle it but to also sit upon her.

She shrugged, “I have a way with horses, I suppose.”

“What are you doing out here? It’s not proper for a Princess to sneak off with the brother of her betrothed. What would people think of your duty to him?” he added sarcastically.

“Don’t talk to me about duty.”

“Tell me Princess, why exactly are you marrying him? Are you perhaps too difficult for other men? Or do you not believe in love?” He spat.

“What do you know of love? You speak of it as if it is as easy to come by as getting water from a well.”

“I thought for sure that you of all people would reject the notion of performing your duty in the absence of love.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“For someone that comes from true love, one would think that it would be more important to you than duty.” Her mouth opened and he rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know about your mother’s rejection of my father? She neglected her duty because she was in love.”

“How dare you accuse my mother of doing anything wrong. From my experience with your father, she made the right choice.”

“Don’t misunderstand Princess, I respect your mother’s gumption to defy the basic principles of royalty and duty. I just thought perhaps her daughter had the same spirit. I see I was wrong to make such an assumption.” She stepped toward him angrily and he laughed. “Did I touch on a nerve, love? Care to hit me again?”

“You arrogant, son of a…”

“Careful, that is not the language of lady in your position.”

“I’m no lady.” She said angrily.

“That part I believe. But tell me love, have you ever done anything that wasn’t part of your responsibilities. Sod the duty, no thought of what people will think of you, but you did it anyway simply because you wanted to?” He smirked.

“Of course, I have. Where do you think I learned to ride that damned horse like that?” He began laughing heartily and a pout formed on her face. “What?”

“You consider mounting a horse to be an act of defiance.” He stepped closer to her, pushing the hair lying on her shoulder behind her. “Perhaps you like the feel of the horse when you ride her bareback? Is it exhilarating having a beast as large as that between your legs?” She shivered against his touch and a grin grew on his face. He stepped back and tugged at the buttons of his shirt, dropping the garment to the ground in front of her. Reaching up to unbuckle his brace, he felt it loosen and drop onto the ground beside him. He did not have time to think about it, to feel the full weight of being this exposed to her, or anyone like this.

“What are you doing?” She asked nervously.

He reached for the string of his pants, loosening them, and dropping them the length of his body, standing in front of her nude and exposed as she rocked back on her heels, he was certain her cheeks were stained red if he had more light exposed to her. “Join me for a swim?” He asked nonchalantly, turning away from her with a grin and walking into the pool of water in front of him.

“Why on earth are you swimming in the middle of the night?” She yelled after him.

Once he was standing waist deep he turned toward her. “Because I wanted to.” He laughed with a shrug. “So, I did.”

He could see her contemplating her options on the shore, looking around nervously at the horses, staring at the pile of clothes he had left by the rocks. He knew he was being reckless; he had just discarded his clothing in front of his brother’s future wife. It was a game he was destined to lose.

And yet he couldn’t stop himself, whatever it was with Emma, it was like something was calling her to him. She was the air he needed to breathe and the blood running through his veins. He needed her and yet he couldn’t have her. “It’s alright Princess, I’m sure my brother would not want you catching cold anyway.”

As if he had just poked her, she angrily tore her gown over her head, pushing her shoes from her feet and standing on the shore in her thin shift. Killian felt his entire body catch fire as she slipped the straps from her shoulders and dropped the material to the ground, leaving her only in the flesh. His breathing wavered as she stepped into the water defiantly, almost marching toward him in the water, her eyes locked on his. God he wanted this woman.

When she was close enough to touch she sank down under the water, disappearing beneath as circles of water expanded out around her. Suddenly he felt something brush against his legs as they were pulled out from under him, and he found himself splashing backward into the water until he was submerged in the cool lake. When he breached the water, she was laughing, her hair soaked against her milky white skin, water pooling at the apex of her breasts. The mischievous grin on her face caused a reaction below the surface that he tried to tame.

“Aren’t you a bloody minx.” He chuckled. “Two can play your game, love.” He teased before he dove under the water, wrapping an arm around her waist and tossing her over his shoulder. She was laughing when she popped up from the water, wading in the deeper water behind him. She swam closer until she was able to stand, and he stared down at her.

Her eyes were wandering his body, glancing at his chest until they swept lower as if trying to see beneath the murky waters below. She bit her lip, turning her eyes back to his face and then onto his arm. “How did you lose your hand?” She asked suddenly and he glanced to his side, lifting his arm from the water, the blunt end of his wrist the constant reminder that he would never be whole.

“Sailing.” He responded sadly. “I fancy myself a pretty good sailor, but at 14 I was reckless, distracted, as my father has told the tale many times in the past.”

“Your father is an insensitive man.” She said softly.

“Aye, but not wrong. I have learned from my mistakes; I do not make them twice.”

“Couldn’t have been that easy for a 14-year-old.” She stared at him with sorrow in her eyes.

“I don’t require your pity, lass. All my other appendages work just fine.” He teased, cocksure and full of piss.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what, love?”

“Lie to me.”

“I can assure you; I’ve never lied to you.”

“Then you aren’t being honest with yourself. It’s ok for a 14-year-old boy to grieve the loss of something that everyone else takes for granted. There’s nothing wrong with struggling to feel whole.”

His eyes sought hers, her words striking something deep in his heart. How did she know that he had never felt like a full person for so many years? How was she able to see the thoughts and feelings he had tried so hard to hide from the world? Things he only spoke of in the solidarity of his own mind. He didn’t know who stepped forward first, how their bodies ended up so close that he could feel the vibration of the water beneath him from the way she moved back and forth beside him. He didn’t know when her arm brushed against his, her fingers lightly tracing the scars at his wrist.

He didn’t know how she ended up in his arms or why she was gazing at him with the look of want in her eyes but there was no denying that he was the one that closed the gap between them, his lips making contact with hers in a bruising kiss that left him feeling as though he would not be able to breathe if she pulled away from him.

She made a sound that sent shivers down his spine as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pulled her against his body as they hovered in the water. His hand tangled into her wet hair, his thumb tracing the curve of her neck, his tongue dancing with hers as their bodies slipped against each other.

His cock bobbed under the water, brushing against her backside as her groans became louder in his ear. He could barely contain himself, his hand brushing against her breast as she hummed in his ear, her teeth biting at his lobe. “Emma…” He groaned and he felt her stiffen in his arms.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was her who pulled away from him, a mortifying frown on her face. “Oh God.” She said into the air. “What have I done.” She started to pull herself toward the shore, marching toward their clothing strewn on the bank. “I must be insane.” She was mumbling to herself as he reached her side.

“Emma.”

“No, don’t talk to me right now. Don’t look at me.” She shrilled as she held her clothes up against her naked form. “I’m marrying your brother. We can’t…we should never have…Oh God.” She finished.

He turned around to speak. “Emma.”

“Please put your pants on.” She said anxiously and he reached for his pants, tugging them onto his wet legs, struggling to get them to slide up his legs with one hand.

“It was my fault. No one has to know about this.”

“You’re damn right, no one can know about this. I mean that Killian, no one can know. The dishonor it would bring to my family is more than I can bear.” She cried and Killian reached for her hand before she jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.” She said before softening her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Emma, I’m the one who is sorry, I never meant to…” He continued to try and tug at the fabric on his legs refusing to budge.

“I have to get back to the castle before anyone realizes I’m gone.” She said nervously, wringing her hands as she approached the horse.

“Would you just wait, love. You’ll get lost in the dark.”

“No, we can’t be seen together, just…please Killian, leave me be.” She pleaded as she mounted the horse, her wet clothes clinging to her body. She urged the horse forward, turning to look back at him once before speeding off into the darkened forest.

“Bloody hell.” He swore, giving up on his pants and dropping down onto the rock behind him. He had royally screwed things up this time.

[disneygirl626]

Peter Parker x Reader :Journey: (2/2)

(Y/n) stood sideways in front of the mirror, a frown etched deep in her features.

“If you keep frowning like that your face is going to get stuck.”

She jumped and turned, watching her husband walk over to her. “Haha, very funny.”

“What’re you doing anyway?” Peter asked with a chuckle.

“Pete, look, the baby bump is already showing! They’re going to see right through me!” (Y/n) said, looking back at the mirror and placing her hands on her stomach.

While she was right, there was a bump, that’s also all it was. A bump. Barely even that, to be honest.

“Honey, I don’t think they’ll notice it,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around his wife from behind. His hands landed on her stomach and she smiled.

“What time is dinner again?” (Y/n) asked.

“Pepper said to be there at 6, but Tony said 7 so I have no idea,” Peter said, earning a laugh from (Y/n).

“May and Happy are coming too, right?” (Y/n) asked.

“Yep. How do you think we should tell everyone about the baby?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know. There’s so many options!” (Y/n) had been watching YouTube videos all day in preparation. She figured this is something they should’ve planned beforehand, but time had gotten away from her and before she knew it it was the day of the dinner and they still had no plan.

“We could do the picture thing,” Peter suggested.

“But who would take it?” (Y/n) asked as she went back to getting ready.

Peter plopped down on their bed with a bounce. “Oh yeah… Why don’t we do the onesie thing? Where it says ‘coming soon’ or something like that.”

“I think you have to have those custom made,” (Y/n) said.

The couple sat in silence, each racking their brains to think of something.

“What do you think of the ultrasound idea?” (Y/n) asked.

“Nah, it needs to be more creative,” Peter said, making his wife smirk.

“What’s that look for?” Peter asked, grinning.

“You’re just adorable,” (Y/n) said.

Peter’s grin widened before it slowly started to fade. “Have you.. have you thought anymore about telling your parents?”

His wife’s smile faded as well. After (Y/n) had gotten engaged to Peter, she and her family had gotten into a huge argument with her family. Her parents highly disapproved of Peter and wanted (Y/n) to go back to school instead of settling down so quickly.

They’d been invited to the wedding but no one had shown up. When Tony found out about that, he had offered to walk (Y/n) down the aisle and give her away. To say that she had started crying was an understatement.

Anyway, she hadn’t heard from her family since before the wedding so she hadn’t planned on telling them about the baby.

“I’ve thought about it. I just don’t know, Peter. There’s only two ways this could go and neither of them are good.”

“It’s completely up to you, (N/n). I’ll support whatever you choose,” Peter said. (Y/n) gave him a small smile.

She finished getting ready, but couldn’t shake that thought out of her head. If she did try to call them they could either ignore her or answer and give her a lecture about how she’s too young to be a mom and yada yada yada.

Her and Peter discussed how to surprise the rest of the family during the whole ride to the compound and came up with the perfect plan.

(Y/n) began shaking with nervous excitement as they pulled up to the compound.

“You ok?” Peter asked, frowning a little bit.

“Mhm,” she replied, climbing out of the car as May came to greet them.

“Hi guys!” she said happily. She ran over to (Y/n) and squeezed her in a hug. “I’ve missed you both!”

(Y/n) laughed as she hugged May. “We’ve missed you too!”

“Are you ok? You look… different. Not bad different, just different. Like you’re… glowing almost.”

(Y/n) froze for a split second. Peter saved her from having to answer as he walked over and squeezed his aunt in a hug.

May eyed (Y/n) suspiciously as the trio headed inside, but she didn’t say anything else about it.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Tony said with a grin.

Peter rolled his eyes but (Y/n) just smirked. The night continued on with (Y/n) on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She was sure they saw right through her. What if they weren’t happy about it? What if they thought they were too young to be parents? Her mom had been in her life, but she wasn’t exactly the best mom in the world. What if she wasn’t a good mom? What if-

“Hey.”

(Y/n) pulled herself out of her spiral of worry and looked up to find her husband watching her with a frown. “You ok?” he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze.

She forced a smile and nodded. “I’m ok. Just… tired I guess.”

Peter didn’t look like he believed her, but they didn’t have the chance to talk about it before FRIDAY announced the takeout they ordered had arrived.

As they sat around the living room and munched on the food, (Y/n) caught her husband’s eye and nodded, biting her lip in a smile. Her hands trembled as she handed May and Happy and Tony and Pepper a small gift as the conversation died down.

“What’s this?” May asked suspiciously, eyeing the small rectangle box with a little smile.

“A present,” (Y/n) replied, sitting next to Peter and taking his hand.

The couple’s opened their respective boxes, pulling out a sandwich baggie with ‘Spider-baby coming soon!’ written on it and a positive pregnancy stick in it.

Pepper was the first to catch on. She let out a happy little scream and jumped up, throwing the baggie at Tony in the process.

(Y/n) stood as Pepper practically bounced over and threw her arms around her and Peter. (Y/n) laughed as May caught on next, having about the same reaction as Pepper. Happy and Tony caught on shortly after that. They were excited but their reaction was a bit calmer than the women.

The months seemed to fly by after that. The first trimester had been rough. Morning sickness had hit (Y/n) like a brick wall. Most of the time she could only eat a couple saltines and drink some chicken broth.

There had been one point where they’d almost had to go see Helen, but thankfully everything worked itself out. They did call Dr. Cho a couple times, but without being able to actually see (Y/n), she had to guess it was from the radiation that changed Peter’s DNA.

“But-but he or she isn’t going to be an actual spider-baby, right?” (Y/n) had asked, having gone pale.

“No, I don't think so, (Y/n). He or she might have some powers, but I highly doubt it,” Helen had replied.

During the second trimester, the morning sickness gradually left and (Y/n) was hit with a whole bunch of cravings. The second trimester became (Y/n)’s favorite part of the pregnancy. She was able to actually eat normal food without puking her guts out ten minutes later and she felt great!

“(Y/n), are you sure you should be up there?”

“Ned, relax, it’s just a ladder.”

“Exactly, it’s a ladder! It could topple over at any second!”

“It won’t if you’re holding it.”

Ned tightened his grip on the metal ladder as he watched one of his best friends attempt to paint the wall in front of her. They were keeping the baby’s gender a surprise until he or she was born, so they had been a pretty sage green for the walls.

Peter was returning tomorrow night from a  business trip with Stark Industries, so (Y/n) had called Ned and MJ to come help her decorate the nursery to surprise Peter.

The puking from the first trimester had taken its toll on (Y/n). She was a lot thinner now, except for the growing bump, and got dizzy pretty easily.

(Y/n) inched closer to the wall, much to Ned’s dismay. “(Y/n), do I need to call MJ?”

“No, I’m perfectly capable of doing this,” (Y/n) said, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on not hitting the ceiling.

“Capable of doing what?” MJ asked as she walked in. She carried bags from various baby stores, which she set in a pile in the middle of the room.

“(Y/n)’s trying to give me a heart attack,” Ned replied.

Said woman glared at him. “Am not.”

“(Y/n), do you really think you should be up there? What if you have a dizzy spell?” MJ asked, crossing her arms.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me get this last part then I’ll - oh!”

MJ and Ned raced over, but (Y/n) didn’t fall. Instead, she dropped the roller as her hand flew to her bump.

“What? What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“He or she kicked!” (Y/n) said, grinning. She got down from the ladder and grabbed her friend’s hands, placing them on her belly. The baby kicked again, making grins pull at Ned and MJ’s lips.

“I wish Peter was here!” (Y/n) said, smiling bigger than she had  in a while.

“(Y/n)?” someone called, making all three heads turn to the living room.

“Peter!” (Y/n) said happily, running to the doorway. She planted a kiss on his lips before grabbing his hand and putting it on her belly.

“(Y/n), what-?”

“Shh! Just watch!”

Sure enough, the baby kicked Peter’s hand. “Whoa!”

He grinned and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

The third trimester brought cramps, swollen feet, and weekly checkups. As the baby grew bigger, (Y/n)’s body began having a hard time adjusting. She became iron deficient and was confined to bed rest within the last couple weeks of her pregnancy due to other complications.

“Peter, I swear, I’ll be ok. Go be Spider-man for a little bit. I’ll call you if anything happens,” (Y/n) said, giving her husband’s hand a squeeze.

“But-”

“No buts. Baby and I will be ok, I promise.”

“What if you have to go to the bathroom? Or what if you get hungry?” Peter asked.

“I called MJ. We’re going to have a girls night,” (Y/n) said, one hand rubbing her large stomach while the other held her husband’s hand tightly.

Peter hesitated. “You swear you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“Yes,” (Y/n) said with a loving smile.

“Fine. I’ll only be gone for a few hours though, ok?”

“Ok. Stay safe, love,” (Y/n) said, pecking his lips before he got up.

“You too,” Peter said. He gave her belly a kiss before suiting up and jumping out the window.

“I will never get used to that,” (Y/n) sighed.

MJ showed up half an hour later and the girls filled up with junk food and cheesy rom-coms.

“So when are you due?” MJ asked as she left to refill the popcorn bucket.

“Two more weeks. But we don’t even know if it’ll actually happen on that day,” (Y/n) said, resting her head on the pillow behind her as she scrolled through Instagram.

A sharp pain shot through her body, making her wince. She didn’t think much of it, it’s been happening a lot lately. Then water began pooling under her thighs. She paled and muttered a curse.

“Uh.. Michelle?”

“I’m coming! Don’t play the movie yet!” MJ called back.

“MJ, my water broke!”

A crash came from the kitchen as MJ ran back into the bedroom. “Are you ok? Does anything hurt?”

“No-no, I’m ok. What-what should I do?” (Y/n) said as the situation began to set in.

“Call Peter. I’ll get your bag and your shoes,” MJ said.

(Y/n) had never been more thankful for her friend’s calmness before now. She tried her husband five times before giving up and leaving a message. She then tried Tony, who answered on the third ring.

“Hey, (Y/n), what’s up?”

“Tony, my water just broke and I can’t get a hold of my husband. I sent him out to be Spider-man for a little bit, but now he’s not answering!”

“OK, stay calm, (N/n). I’ll go look for him and make sure everything’s ok. Are you by yourself?”

“No, MJ is here with me. Call me when you find him!” (Y/n) said as MJ ran back in with (Y/n)’s sandals and hospital bag.

“Will do, kid.”

They hung up and called the hospital. Due to all of her complications so far, they told her to come in right away.

So MJ hailed a cab and helped her very pregnant friend down the stairs and into said cab. ON the way, they call Ned who met them at the hospital.

(Y/n) was called back into a room almost immediately with her friends by her side.

“Anything from Tony?” (Y/n) asked MJ.

As if on cue, her phone began ringing. MJ put it on speaker and said, “Tony? Did you find him?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. We’re on our way now. How’s she doing?”

“I’m fine, just get here quickly please!” (Y/n) said.

“We’re almost there!” Tony said before they hung up.

Well, after that phone call things rapidly went downhill. They gave her an epidural, and shortly after that (Y/n)’s blood pressure began dropping drastically, resulting in some panicked nurses and doctors.

(Y/n) began having trouble staying awake and the epidural wasn’t even working, which meant she was still in pain.

“MJ!”

MJ and Ned looked up from the seat they’d claimed as Peter and Tony ran in. Peter had a black eye and a cut on his cheek, but other than that he looked ok.

“Where is she? Is she ok?” Peter asked.

“Her blood pressure is dropping. They kicked us out,” Ned said.

“She’s in that room,” MJ said, pointing discreetly to the room across from them.

Peter raced in to find his pregnant wife pale and asleep while a doctor and nurse talked next to her. They both looked up when Peter walked in.

“I’m Peter, I’m her husband. What’s going on?” he said quickly.

“We’re going to have to do an emergency c-section, it’s not healthy for your wife or your baby if we try to wait,” the doctor said.

So that’s what happened. Almost three hours later, the Spider-baby was brought into the world and (Y/n)’s blood pressure started rising back to normal. She woke up almost thirty minutes after the baby was born to find Peter sitting next to her bed and holding her hand.

“Is the baby ok? Where-what happened?” she asked weakly.

“The baby is great. They have her in the NICU just to be safe for a couple days, but they said as soon as you feel like it we can go visit  her,” Peter said, a soft smile on his face.

“Her? It’s a girl?” (Y/n) asked, smiling.

“We have a daughter, (N/n),” Peter said.

They found (Y/n) a wheelchair then went straight to the NICU.

“You must be Baby Parker’s parents. She’s doing great, she should be able to leave in a few days,” a nurse said with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Pete, she’s so beautiful,” (Y/n) said with tears in her eyes.

“What should we name her?” Peter asked.

“You pick the first name and I’ll pick the middle name,” (Y/n) said.

“Clara,” Peter said almost instantly.

“May,” (Y/n) said, just as quickly.

They smiled. “Clara May Parker.”

——

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I know I brought up the parent thing, then never did anything with it so I was thinking of doing a little spinoff oneshot of this later on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed these twoshots!

[tessaliagrey]

Day 3 - Bo and Ursa are besties

Author’s note: I actually planned on writing something like a girls’ night out… Well, you know me… I wrote something else.

Summary: Bo and Ursa talk after Carlac.

Tagging: @bokatanweek

You can eiter read here on AO3 or below the cut.

03 - Bo and Ursa are besties

Setting up a new camp was always exhausting, but Bo never minded. And besides, it was their own fault they had to leave. Not that Bo would ever say that out loud, she wasn’t stupid. She trusted Pre Vizsla, but the man had been too impatient lately and she had seen how he treated people who spoke out against his decisions. Not that Bo never did, but she was smart enough to do it when only Vizsla could hear.

But anyway, the situation was like it was, and there was no use complaining about it now. And besides, Carlac had been too cold for her liking anyways. Not that Zanbar was more to her taste, but at least it wasn’t freezing.

With the camp set up, people were going about their business again. Vizsla was in his tent, and Bo contemplated whether or not to go talk to him. She hadn’t said anything about what happened so far, and maybe it was better to leave him be for another few days. And besides, she wasn’t done yet.

Bo certainly wasn’t the oldest one in Vizsla’s ranks, but for sure one of the warriors with the most experience. She had fought in the Civil War, even though many had thought her too young. But she had prevailed.

She had learned much during that time. A lot of the warriors that flocked to Vizsla wanted to fight, and that was fine with Bo. But they never quite seemed to grasp that victory was not based on numbers and fire power alone. Sure, those things helped. But intel, preparation, supply lines,… The intricacies of strategic planning went over most people’s heads, really. And so it was Bo-Katan who stood in one of the supply tents, inventorying everything they still had in stock.

She just made a note to get more power packs when she heard the tent flap open and close.

“Still at it?”

Bo’s head whipped around.

“Ursa!”, she exclaimed, and walked over to hug her friend. “I thought you were staying on Krownest for another few weeks at least. Everything alright?”

Ursa chuckled, hugging her friend back.

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“How are Alrich and Sabine?”

Ursa smiled fondly. “They’re both good. You know them, they make a good team.”

Bo nodded, and yet she thought she had detected a hint of sorrow in Ursa’s last words.

“Want a drink?” Bo asked. “Someone managed to store the tihaar next to the vibro blades.”

“Ouch,” Ursa said, shaking her head. “Makes you wonder where people keep their heads sometimes. But yeah, I’d take a sip.”

Bo got a bottle out of one of the boxes, and the two women settled on the floor, backs against an obliging crate.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, passing the bottle back and forth. Then, Ursa began to talk.

“You know,” she began, a frown on her face, like she was trying to find fitting words for what she wanted to say. “I feel torn, sometimes.”

Bo looked over to her friend and just nodded, encouraging Ursa to go on.

“On the one hand, I want to be here. I want to be in this fight, not just watching from the sidelines. I’m a warrior, it’s my duty. And yet…”, she trailed off, letting out a long, low sigh.

“And yet, you also want to be home,” Bo-Katan said.

Ursa nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“And why wouldn’t you,” Bo continued softly. “You have a lovely daughter, and a husband who dotes on you. You are very lucky in that regard. It’s okay to not want to miss out on that.”

Ursa smiled a tired smile at Bo-Katan, then grabbed the bottle from her hands and took a swing.

“You know,” Ursa kept on saying, the alcohol slowly seeming to have an effect on her infliction, “I love my husband and I love Sabine. I actually like being a mother, you know. And you know what bugs me about it sometimes?”

Bo shook her head.

“That Alrich is so much better at it than I am.”

“Ursa!”

“What? It’s true! He has it all down. The diapers, the feeding, the sleeping… I’m an amateur next to Alrich.”

Bo wanted to interject, but Ursa was on a roll. “And it’s my own fault! Because I can’t just sit at home and let others fight this war while I take care of my family.”

“Ursa, stop!”, Bo finally managed to get in. “You make it sound like that is wrong, and it just isn’t!”

“It isn’t. It isn’t?”

“No, it isn’t”, Bo confirmed. “Whatever works best for you and your family isn’t wrong, but the right thing to do. Imagine if you and Alrich were to switch roles. Imagine you’d be on Krownest all the time. I mean, yeah, sure, you’d see a lot more of Sabine, and you do deserve to. But would it make you happier that the arrangement you have right now? To watch Alrich go off to war while you change the diapers?”

Ursa was eerily silent for a moment.

“Because if it would make you happier, Ursa, then you should go home.” In an afterthought she added “I wouldn’t blame you for it.”

Ursa took another swallow from the bottle and let out another long sigh.

“No,” she admits. “I wouldn’t be happier. Not really. I just miss them.”

“As you should,” Bo said.

She then put her arm around Ursa’s shoulder and pulled her into her side.

“It’ll be alright,” she told her, rubbing her friend’s arm.

They kept sitting in silence for a little while longer. Then, Ursa began to talk again.

“And here?”, she inquired. “What happened on Carlac?”

Bo shrugged. “Something unexpected.”

“How so?”

Now it was Bo’s turn to sigh. “You know how Vizsla wants to get back at Dooku. Someone reached out to the Death Watch, a young senator’s son called Lux Bonteri. His mother used to be a senator in the Confederacy. She had died unexpectedly, and her son blamed Dooku for it. And from what I could gather, it’s actually not that unlikely. Dooku didn’t admit it, of course. But Bonteri wanted revenge. But one look at that kid will tell you that he alone could never pull it off. He needed someone with strength.”

“Alright,” Ursa said. “But what made Pre enter a deal with him?”

Bo smirked. “Bonteri had figured out a way to locate Dooku. The deal was that Bonteri would find out where Dooku is hiding, and the Death Watch would go and take him out. Win-win.”

“Well,” Ursa said, frowning, “that clearly isn’t what happened.”

“No,” Bo agreed. “Though it did start out promising. The kid showed on Carlac as planned. And he did have Dooku’s coordinates.”

“But?”

“But he wasn’t alone. I don’t think he planned on bringing the girl, though.”

“He brought a girl?”, Ursa asked, disbelief in her voice. “Like a girl friend?”

Bo huffed out a laugh. “If only. They did try to sell that story, though. Bonteri introduced her as his betrothed. I should have known that it was a cover story. I mean one look at her and you’d know that she wasn’t made to be some senator’s wife who would entertain guests while her husband talks politics. She was…feisty…I guess.”

Ursa grinned. “You like her.”

Bo shrugged. “I would like her…under different circumstances. Turned out the girl was a Jedi.”

“What?”

Bo nodded, making an affirmative noise. “Kinda badass. Managed to decapitate four of our warriors in one strike. Very skilled for her age. Gave me a run for my money, that’s for sure.”

“You like her. Jedi or not.”

Bo shrugged again. “Maybe…”

Now it was Bo’s turn to take a sip from the bottle.

“There is something else bothering you,” Ursa said. It was a statement, not a question, as Bo noticed. But she kept silent.

“Bo, come on. If not to me, who are you gonna talk to.”

Bo sighed again. “I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“Vizsla.”

For a few heartbeats, the tent was completely silent. But then, Ursa answered.

“Yes,” Ursa agreed. “So am I.”

“We had a good plan,” Bo-Katan continued. “Slowly escalate until it was clear that Satine had lost the grip on the situation. Until the people felt no longer safe. Vizsla blames that Kenobi guy for his plans to fall through.”

“But you don’t.”

“Well, I do, in a way. But the Jedi would never have been involved if we hadn’t made a deal with Dooku. We would not have sent a saboteur to a republic cruiser on our own, it would not have furthered our plans at all. It was the only reason they sent a Jedi to Mandalore in the first place, not because of the Death Watch. The Jedi were probably completely unaware of us until Kenobi’s arrival.”

Bo took another swig from the bottle and continued.

“It was the right thing after that to call off our deal with Dooku. But it should have ended there. But for Pre, it didn’t. He took it personal. And now he wants revenge. On Dooku, but even more so on Kenobi. And I fear his personal endeavor for vengeance might at one point jeopardize our operation.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t find the right time. And then that Bonteri kid came around and I thought that if it worked and we could get back at Dooku, if Vizsla got his revenge, then we could get back on track with taking over Mandalore.”

“And then, the kid brings yet another Jedi,” Ursa said, groaning. “Great.”

“And again, if we hadn’t involved an outsider, we wouldn’t have had to deal with the Jedi again at all.”

Ursa nodded in agreement.

“So, what now?”, she asked.

“I’ll wait a few more days, then talk to Pre,” Bo answered. “But I need to give him some time to cool off first. I am one of the very few who can actually contradict him in private, but that’s not a free pass to do so. No, I need to choose the moment carefully.”

Ursa nodded again and took the bottle from Bo-Katan.

The two women kept sitting in the supply tent, passing the bottle back and forth. Eventually, their talk went to lighter topics.

[auroracalisto]

Hey! If it is okay. Could I request an Arranged Marriage AU with Jaskier x insecure female reader, please? (Bonus points if it turns out to be a romantic loving marriage in the end with a pregnancy too if you’re comfortable with that) Thanks so much!

summary: follows the request

pairing: prince! jaskier x princess! insecure! reader

word count: 2k words

warnings: controlling mother, manipulative mother, insecure reader, female reader, arranged marriage AU

a/n: i did not put in a pregnancy because i felt like this was just going to go on forever.  perhaps i’ll make a part two to include the pregnancy.  and it’s not really romantic in this; it’s more of a realization between two parties that it could be romantic??

“What do you mean, my wedding?”

You stared incredulously at your mother, wondering what she had to say.  Nothing that would come out of her mouth would be good.  

She gave you a soft smile, her hand reaching out to touch the side of your face.  “Now, now, [Your name],” she spoke, “you knew that this was only a matter of time.  You are being wed to a man from another kingdom.  It will unite our kingdoms and we will be stronger for it.  Nothing you could do will stop it, my love.  I know you are thinking of ways.”

Half of you knew that your mother did everything out of the love and pride she had for her kingdom.  After your father died, it was only a matter of time before your mother projected her controlling ways onto the kingdom and onto you.  This was proof enough.  The other half of you stood there, in disbelief.  You had grown up, hearing stories about how your mother and father fell in love with each other and were married on their own accord.  But now, you were to be wed to a man you didn’t even know. 

Everything inside of you buzzed with anxiety.  You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath.  All you could do was allow your mother to do what she set out to do in the first place.  There was no changing her mind.  

“May I at least know his name?”

“Jaskier.”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over at your mother, your eyes wide.  Jaskier was the prince of a rather expansive kingdom.  They had good fortune, power, and beautiful people.  Not to mention that the prince, himself, was rather attractive.  

Your blood ran cold and your palms began to sweat.  “Mother, is this a good idea?  Surely, I am not good enough to marry someone like him.”

She gave you what she believed to be a comforting smile before taking a hold of your hands.  “They will be here in a week’s time.  Your wedding will be in a fortnight, my love.  Be prepared.”

The week in question went by faster than you had wanted it to.  You stood by your mother in an uncomfortable dress, fit with the royal colors of your kingdom, waiting for the carriage that had brought Jaskier and his parents to a full stop.  

Your mother nudged your elbow, sending you a look.  She did this many times when she wanted you to stand up straight—you did just that.  

You nervously watched as one of the coachmen hopped down from his seat, walking over to open the carriage door.  

His parents stepped out, first.  And then, Jaskier stepped out from behind them.  

He’s pretty.  

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you keep your eyes on Jaskier.  He laid his eyes on you and he gave you a faint smile.  

Neither of you wanted to be here, and that was obvious.  

His parents began to converse with your mother, shortly after introducing the two of you to each other.  Not that you would need it.

“If this is going to happen,” smiled Jaskier, “I’m glad to be able to marry such an exquisite beauty.”

That’s all it took for your cheeks to burn once more.  You averted your gaze, clearing your throat in a very un-princess like manner.  “I beg your pardon?” you asked, your teeth biting the inside of your cheek as to try and prevent you from saying anything else.  

Jaskier smiled even more.  “I realize this is unconventional.  For both of us.  But we do what’s best for our kingdoms.  I hope so, anyway.”

“No… no, you’re right.  My mother has talked about that many times with me.  I know what we are doing is for the betterment of our lands.  But,” you looked up at the man, furrowing your eyebrows.  “I haven’t a clue why she chose me.  Let alone to someone who could have anyone that he wanted.”

Jaskier couldn’t help his blush and he chuckled in response.  “Well.  Perhaps I can make it worth your while.”

—

And just like the week leading up to Jaskier’s arrival, the week to your wedding went by faster than you had expected.  

Your wedding ceremony had been a blur.  Jumbled thoughts, anxious feelings, nothing felt like it was going right.  And now, you sat beside Jaskier, looking at those of your kingdoms joining together for the celebration.  

“Princess,” Jaskier said, turning to face you.  “Perhaps you should eat something.  Your mother has been eying your plate ever since you sat down.”

You frowned and returned your gaze onto his.  “She is making sure I do not eat everything.”

Jaskier fell silent for just a moment, a look of confusion washing over him.  “What?”

You forced a smile after seeing your mother with a not-so-happy look.  “Like I told you before, Jaskier.  My mother does what she has to for the kingdom and for herself.”

“What does eating have to do with anything?”

You blinked slowly, thinking of an answer.  But before you could say anything else, Jaskier’s father stood, toasting the two of you to a happy marriage.  You and Jaskier drank to that, but it still didn’t stop his concerned look.  

“We have the choice as to where we will live.  Right?”

You looked at him, frowning.  “Yes.  My mother would never give up her crown willingly.”

“Then why don’t you come back to my kingdom with me?  You will be able to have lots of good food, good atmosphere, and especially good company,” he gently nudged your arm with his elbow.  

Your eyes widened and your cheeks felt hot.  “I don’t see why not…”

Jaskier smiled at you, but there was something else beneath his smile that you couldn’t quite make out.  

Everything your mother put onto you had happened so quickly.  You were not sure if telling Jaskier yes would have been a good idea, but it was far too late to change your mind.   

Shortly after the banquet had finished, Jaskier informed your parents that you would be traveling back with them to live in his palace.  

Your mother seemed displeased, but you knew that deep down, she was glad.  She would not have to worry about you ruining her image if you were not around her.  And that would mean she would always have someone from her kingdom within Jaskiers’ palace.  It worked out well, just like the arranged marriage. 

—

You were only a couple of months into your marriage with Jaskier.  His kingdom was just as beautiful as the stories you were told growing up.  You hadn’t heard much from your mother, not that that was an issue.  However, and this was something you had noticed from the time that you had arrived, Jaskier was a huge flirt.  And it didn’t matter what their status, or who they were, really, he would flirt.  And a part of you hated that.  He was sweet to you.  But he never talked to you the way he talked to other people.  Perhaps that was a good thing.  But the other side of you wished that he would treat you like what seemed to be his fleeting crushes. 

You knew what these feelings were.  Jealously.  But it didn’t make sense.  You weren’t supposed to have any sort of feelings towards him, were you?  It would have posed a problem.  That problem being, you weren’t good enough to like him as much as you were starting to.  

What especially didn’t help were moments like this—where you were out with Jaskier in the kingdom and he flirted with people as you walked by them.  As you passed the third girl Jaskier flirted with (who returned the flirtatious remarks), you found yourself growing increasingly upset with this.  Something overcame you, lest it is called jealousy, and you suddenly grabbed ahold of Jaskier’s hand, turning him to face you.  

His eyes were wide and he stared at you for a split second, trying to figure out what you were thinking. 

“[Your name]?”

“Why don’t you talk to me like that?  Am I—am I not good enough?”

He couldn’t help his smile that quickly formed.  “Not good enough?”  He let out a laugh, and he leaned forward to kiss your warm cheek.  “You are too good for me to talk to you in such a manner.  I couldn’t imagine being the reason for—”

“—if you aren’t going to talk to me in that manner, please refrain from talking to others in front of me in such a way.”

You let go of his hand and proceeded to walk past him, an angry look on your normally calm face.  

“[Your name],” Jaskier quickly called after you, taking a hold of your hand once more.  “Where is all of this coming from?  I always believed you thought so little of me.”

Your eyes widened as you turned your head to look at him.  “Jaskier,” you breathed out.  “You truly are oblivious.”  You squeezed your eyes shut as you gathered your words.  “I never believed that I was good enough for you.  You spend your time flirting with girls far prettier than I’ll ever be.  Far thinner, far too beautiful.  What am I to assume if you continue doing so?  I never once thought that you would have been alarmed had I said something about it.  What is all this, Jaskier?  If I have hurt you in some way, could you not imagine what every passing comment does for me?”

“I—” Jaskier frowned deeply.  “I realize that perhaps I should not have flirted with the women in passing.  But in my defense, princess, never once did I stop to think that you would feel so strongly about something like this.”

You jerked your hand away, frowning.  “Well.  You should have.”

This time, instead of grabbing you and stopping you, Jaskier let you walk off.  You made your way back to the castle and went straight for your quarters.  You had nothing to offer the kingdom, let alone your husband who flirted with everything that walked.  You sat down on the edge of your bed, a million thoughts racing through your mind.  

He was right.  Why did you feel so strongly about this?  Why did you care?  You were both in this marriage out of the necessity for your parents and for the kingdom.  He should be allowed to flirt with whoever he chooses.  So, why did it hurt so bad?

You were only alone for an hour with your thoughts.  A knock brought you back to your bedroom, and you quickly cleared your throat and called out. “Come in.”

Jaskier opened the door and came in as soon as he heard you speak.  He had realized that maybe he shouldn’t have flirted as much as he did, especially when he knew he felt so strongly about you.  

“I have something to tell you, princess,” Jaskier spoke.  

“So do I.”

Jaskier stared at you for just a moment, coming over to sit down beside you.  “What do you have to tell me…?”

You closed your eyes, quickly taking a hold of his hand.  “I do believe I’ve come to a conclusion.  On why I feel so strongly about you.”

Jaskier began to blush.  He couldn’t help it.  That was similar to what he was about to admit.  

He began to smile at you, and when you realized that he was smiling, your face began to heat up.  

“What?”

“I do believe that I feel the same way, [Your name].”

You had never expected to fall in love with Jaskier, especially in the way that you were feeling now.  Perhaps, the controlling nature of your mother was looking out for you, for once.  

Pieces of Jaskier still could not fathom how you talked about yourself.  You were just as beautiful as the women he flirted with, if not more.  But now, he realized, he would have so much time to properly show you that, especially since, now, the two of you were on the same page.  

[djarinslover]

Pretty Lover

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader (no y/n)

Warnings: swearing, bdsm dynamic, male feminization, Dom/sub, male penetration, food play, fluff, SMUT 

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I finally finished writing this after, what? A few months? I’m sorry, I SUCK at keeping up with writing and I’m trying to do better. Please enjoy this and let me know if you wanted to be tagged or untagged. Part two of Good Boy Xxxx

Part one here:

Maxwell went home earlier than you did that night. You had a few things to catch up on in the office. Plus, you wanted to keep him anticipating what the night would hold. He had his instructions - set the table, have dinner ready (though the chef would take care of that), and be kneeling in front of the door with his leash and collar in hand when you got home. Naked. You couldn’t wait.

Finishing up paperwork with a sigh, you stretch and check your watch. Quarter to six. You shove from your desk, slipping your heels on as you call the limo driver.

“Richard, I’m done.”

“I’ll be waiting outside for you, Mrs. Lord.”

‘Mrs. Lord.’ The title bounced around in your head as you walked to the elevator. You and Maxwell were an item, yes. But he had never mentioned marriage, or even hinted at it. You didn’t mind; he was Maxwell Lord, known for hustling and charming as many women as he could. Marriage wasn’t exactly something you thought of a lot, either. Sure, it would be nice to call Maxwell your husband. In fact, the thought had your cheeks warm. But, until he brought it up, you wouldn’t say anything. You didn’t want to scare him away with one of the most vanilla things in the world. That wasn’t his style; he was kinky more than anything.

Richard was holding the door open for you when you stepped outside, gaze focused on the ground. You slid into the car, resting your head back as you blow out a breath. It had been a long day (your sexcapade aside) and all you wanted to do was curl up with Maxwell. Then, you remembered he was wearing a cock ring. He was probably waiting for you at the door now, cock hard and dripping as his knees hurt from the hardwood floor. The thought made heat race through your belly, warm and not so subtle. Biting your lip, you pull your phone out to send him a message.

‘My pet better be ready for me.’

It took exactly a minute to receive an answer. It was a picture of him on his knees, mouth hanging with drool running down his chin. You could see he was shirtless. Another picture followed. This was of his hard cock looking so pretty in the pink cock ring. Your thighs clenched, pussy tingling with arousal.

‘Be home in five. I can’t wait to see how well you’re sitting for me, pet.’ 

You didn’t receive an answer back, but it just excited you more. You couldn’t stop thinking of all the things you wanted to do tonight.

Exactly five minutes like you said, you arrived home. Richard parked the car, then exited to open the door for you. You thanked him over your shoulder, too eager to get inside. Luckily, the door had been left unlocked for you. When you stepped in, your bag and jaw dropped.

There sat your boyfriend, looking so pretty and delicious. He was still wearing the pink cock ring like the good boy he was. The leash and collar were also on. But what really caught your eye was something you hadn’t seen before, especially not on him - lingerie. He was wearing a gray bra and panties with pink flowers and white lace, along with a garter belt attached to gray stockings. He also had on a pair of black heels. A smirk curled along his lips as he watched your expression. He sat up straighter, holding his leash out with a glimmer of glee in his eyes.

“Welcome home, Mistress.”

“Wow, darling. Did you have this planned for a while?” you ask, finally managing to walk towards him. You circled him, eyeing up every angle.

“It was rather spontaneous. I bought all this after our session in the office.” He stuck his ass out as you walked around him, a purr in his voice. “Dinner is ready, if you are hungry, Mistress.”

You gather yourself, picking up your bag. “Yes, pet, I am. Put my things away, will you?”

Maxwell crawled over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to both of your feet. He peered up, lashes framing the dark look growing in his pupils. Arousal licked at your insides, spreading along your spine and tingling down your fingertips. He stood, taking your bag and heading to the dining room. You followed, admiring the way his ass looked in the panties and the way the heels made it looks more defined. You bit your lip, thinking you two will have to invest in more lingerie for him, along with heels. You didn’t understand why seeing him dressed like that got you all hot and bothered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. You even noted he walked pretty fucking well in those heels.

Dinner was laid out with candles and rose petals. You laugh, picking up a petal. “How cliché.’

“You love the cliché.” 

“Mmm, I beg to differ.” You stalk up to him, looping a finger through his collar to bring his face to yours. He blushed, lip caught between his teeth. “You dressing like this isn’t very cliché, is it?”

He shook his head, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. You let go, sliding away to sit down. He quickly joined, the two of you eating dinner in silence. He had the chef prepare you a steak, potatoes and green beans just the way you liked it. Not a super fancy dinner but something that would give you energy for the night ahead. You ate slowly, making sure Maxwell was watching the way your lips wrapped around the fork, the way your tongue licked it clean. His eyes followed every little move you made.

After about half an hour of eating in silence, he cleared his throat. “May I be excused, Mistress?”

“You may.”

You offered your plate to Maxwell and he took it, scurrying off to the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a small box and a can of whipped cream. You cock an eyebrow, watching as he came closer with a small smirk on his cute lips. The box contained chocolate covered strawberries. A favorite treat of yours.

“Shall we have dessert in the bedroom?” Maxwell asked, extending a hand to you.

You smile, reaching for his head. The two of you walk to your bedroom, giggling from the excitement you were feeling. Max let you step into the room first, letting you see the various toys laid on the bed, plus more candles and rose petals. It made your heart flutter, a blush warming your face. You turn to your boyfriend. He was smiling, holding out the box of strawberries.

“Oh, Maxwell. What is all this for?”

“For knowing what I always need. For being my partner, my employee, my best friend and my Mistress. I figured after you treated me this morning, it’s only fair I treat you as well.”

“You always treat me, my love.”

You reach out to him, inviting him into your embrace. He nuzzles a cheek on your palm. You open the box, plucking a nicely covered berry and pressing it to his lips. He opens his mouth, eyes fluttering and a soft moan leaving his lips as he bit down. You took the can of whipped cream from his hands, shaking it before pouring some in your mouth. You press your lips to his, and he licked into your mouth, trying to get every last hint of cream, hands gripping the fabric covering your hips. He was whining, pawing at the clothes you wore. It burnt you up to realize he was practically naked, only wearing lingerie while you were fully clothed.

You break the kiss, moving hair out of his eyes. “Kneel.”

He fell instantly, so hard and fast you were sure his knees would be bruised by morning. You observed him, taking another berry out and eating it. His eyes never left you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you slowly eat the treat, pondering what to do with your boyfriend. You look at the toys laid out when one in particular caught your eye. An almost evil smirk crossed your lips. Finishing eating, you stand and begin putting away toys you won’t need.

Maxwell watched, patiently sitting on his haunches with his hands clasped. When you were finished, all that was left on the bed was a bottle of lube, a Hitachi vibrator and a strap-on. The strap-on was a pretty light blue, 5 inches long and 2 inches thick. One of Maxwell’s favorites. His body began to go pink with excitement, starting at his neck and continuing down to his belly. His cock was twitching in the panties, aching from the pressure of the ring.

“Come here, Max.”

He crawled as quickly as he could to you. You invited him up onto the bed, reaching to stroke his cock. He shuddered, shoulders slumping as he practically curled in on himself. You took pride in how well he was handling the touch.

“Is it okay if I use the strap on you tonight?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he begged.

“Alright, love. Get comfortable.”

Maxwell scooted to lay back against the pillows. You took one of the many pillows you had and placed it under his lower back to elevate his ass. He spread his legs for you, and goddamn, you could have started drooling from how good he looked. On his back, dressed in such a gorgeous set of lingerie, heels on his feet, legs spread, cock hard and poking through the panties. You wanted to take a picture. Or never wanted the moment to end.

You start kissing at his left ankle, following up his leg until you get to his cock. Then you switch to the other leg, at the ankle. He groans, hips thrusting up as you come back near his cock. Instead of paying attention to it, you keep kissing up his belly, sucking at his nipples and leaving a bruise on his collarbone. You reach his lips, hovering just far away enough he couldn’t kiss you. He knew better to try, anyway. Your tongue flicks out to lick his lips, moving over to kiss his cheek, up to his ear. You do this to the other side of his face as well. His eyes are scrunched up in frustration until you kiss him properly.

He’s Jell-O under your touch, limp and compliant. You began palming his cock, going back to suck his nipples when he whines.

“Mistress, please,” he cries.

“Please what, pet?”

“Please just fuck me already!”

You tut, pinching the nipple you were sucking on. “How impatient, dear. I’ve barely touched you.”

His face falls. “I just want to feel your cock in me.”

A scintillas of heat pooled in your pussy, catching you off guard. The words that came out of his mouth made your body tingle, your clit throbbing and heart pounding. But, you weren’t going to let him get to you that easily.

“Oh, Maxwell. You really thought all this nice decorating and flattering would get me to fuck you that quick, huh?”

You reach for the Hitachi, flicking it to the highest setting before placing it on his covered cock. He whimpered loudly, hips rising in the air to the meet the vibrations. He thrashed about until you moved it away, giving him a disappointing look.

“Can you stay still for me, Maxie? I want to see how good you can be for me.”

With a whine, he nodded. His bottom lip was caught tight between his front teeth, hair messy and a gorgeous blush on his cheeks. A wicked smile formed on your lips as you pressed the vibrator back onto him, relishing in the way he fought to keep himself still. You kept edging him until you knew he couldn’t take it anymore, until you could tell he was right at the edge of climax. Turning it off and putting it aside, you crawled up to kiss him. He turned to you with such a hunger, it knocked the air out of your lungs.

“You did so good for me, Maxie. I’m proud of you for not cumming.”

He beamed, looking so stress free and beautiful. You pet his hair as you press kisses along his face and neck, waiting for him to calm down.

“I’m ready, Mistress,” he said in a soft voice.

“Are you sure, pet?”

“Yes. Please fuck me.” The request dripped with arousal and to prove his point, he held his legs open wide.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you sit up and pull his panties to the side. You pour the lube over his hole, then your own fingers. You start slowly, one finger even though he was baring down for more.

“Please, please, Mistress! More!”

“Shh, shh,” you hush, putting a second in him. You work him up to four fingers and continue with those four for a few more moments. When you feel he is properly prepared, you slide your fingers out, which makes him groan at the empty feeling and wiggle his ass. You stand up, shedding your clothes as fast as you could. You didn’t care about teasing him with stripping slowly, you just wanted to make him squirm under you as soon as possible.

Once stripped down to only your underwear, you fiddle with the harness and strap-on, watching Maxwell’s reactions. He was watching you with bright lust in his eyes, the submission taking a backseat as he admired you. You admired back, waddling up the bed on your knees once you have the harness adjusted.

You soothe your hands down the back of his thighs, taking one hand to hold the strap-on. “Are you ready for me, pet?”

“Yes!” he cried, thrusting his hips down towards the plastic cock.

You laugh, pressing his left thigh to his tummy as you begin pushing into him. You push and push until your hips meet his. You both moan as you bottom out, just sitting there as you watch his face, searching for signs of discomfort or pain. Instead, he took a deep breath, met your gaze with a cheeky grin and pushed his hips down. You smirked, retaliating with a hard thrust back. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

You let his legs fall to wrap around your waist as you place your hands by his head, leaning down to kiss him. You thrust as hard as you could manage, making him let out the most delicious noises against your mouth. He tried his damn hardest to kiss you back with an open mouth. Each thrust you gave made a moan or groan punch out of his lungs. It was the most beautiful song you’d ever head.

“Harder, please, harder!” he begged, hands going down to grip your ass.

You press your hips against him and make rough thrusting movements. It seemed to satisfy him as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open mid moan.

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself. You loved to see him in the throes of pleasure, and this had to be the most satisfying session of sex you’ve had yet. The strap-on was pressing on your clit in the best way, making you move to chase the pleasure you were feeling.

“Mistress, may I cum? Pl-ease!”

You watch Maxwell’s desperate face, pumping your hips harder. He had tears in his eyes from holding back, lips red and pump, face pink. You wanted him to always look like this.

“Yes. Cum for me, love.”

With a final thrust, Maxwell was cumming all over his stomach and panties. He was crushing your biceps in a tight grip, head thrown back as he let out the loudest shout of your name. You kept humping against him, chasing your own climax but the overwhelmed whimpers from Maxwell made you stop. You slowly pulled out of him, pressing kisses to his face. He seemed to be far gone at the moment, not registering your presence. You press one last kiss to his forehead before getting up.

Tossing the dildo in the sink for later clean up, you run a washcloth under warm water, then walk back to your boyfriend. He was still semi-out of it, eyes post-climax cloudy and glossy. You wiped his cum off of his stomach, folded the washcloth and then wiped the lube off him. He twitched, still so sensitive. You pull the panties off and unhook the bra. Taking his shoes, garter belt and stocking off, you sat the outfit in a pile next to your toybox. As you’re taking the harness off yourself, you notice out of the corner of your eyes that Maxwell was moving to watch you.

“Oh, hello! You’re back.”

He nodded, then made grabby hands in your direction. You slid up next to him, resting his head on your chest. He clung to you, snuggling his face into the base of your neck. He mumbled something into your skin.

“What was that?”

“I said, did you cum?”

“No. But that’s okay, you can make it up to me later.”

You hold him until he fully comes back to reality and gathers the strength to sit up. He holds a hand up your cheek, caressing your face. “Care to join me in the shower?”

“Of course, babe.”

The two of you head to the bathroom, hands intertwined. After you turned the shower on, Maxwell grabbed your face. He pressed his lips to yours softly, thumbs running over your cheeks. You smile into the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair.

“What was that for you?” you whisper as you part from his mouth.

“I can’t kiss my lovely girlfriend?” He rolled his eyes as you giggled. “Just a thank you. You took good care of me tonight.”

“That’s my job, Maxie.” You look him in the eyes, pushing hair aside. “I love you.”

A smile lit up his face. “I love you, too.”

And while you were distracted with the declaration of love, he opened the shower curtain and splashed water on you. You squeal, trying to glare at him. 

“Cold?” he laughs.

You roll your eyes, laughing yourself. “No, goofball. It’s perfect, lets go.”

You two shower, enjoying the intimacy of showering together. You could tell he loosened up from this morning and you silently patted yourself on the back. After the nice relaxing shower, you lay curled up in his arms. He was already snoring, damp hair sprawled on his pillow. You press one last kiss to his lips before snuggling up to sleep. 

Tagged: @pajamasecrets @heather-lynn @zeldasayer @talesfromtheguild @ben-is-a-hoe @kaetastic

[ginazmemeoir]

so i was inspired by @h00man-bean and here you go with a fic about Kaz and Inej as the Devil and the Reaper.

tagging @h00man-bean @mango-pickle @carmen-riddle @the-fault-in-our-inquilab @momo-all-the-way @gopikanyari @aadyeah @reddish-green-personality @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @dragonfairy1231 @totallyforgotyouwerehere @a-dragon-under-the-stars @taareginn

I crash into consciousness. The sound of gurgling water and rustling leaves greets me as I stand up. Strange. The last time I was alive, I had arthritis and was confined to a wheelchair. All Nina could do was slow mine and Inej’s death. I remember the last breath I drew, the last thought I had, the last time I saw Inej smile. And then nothing. Just an empty void, just – not being anymore.

I look at myself, flex my toes. It appears as if death has returned my old skin back to me, but it still doesn’t look like mine. This one is clear as if it was tended to by a Grisha tailor daily, as if the man who bore it had never worked a day. I am wearing the suit I stole from Pekka Rollins, decorated with a genuine gold pin showing a crow with a lion’s head in its claws. My cane lies beside me along with my hat. Either I am in a coma and am dying a slow, painful death as many of my enemies wished, or I have woken from a dream and nothing that I know happened, never really happened. I would rather prefer the first. Then, I see Inej.

She stands there in her captain’s uniform, the teal coat Sturmhond gave her, coupled with breeches and boots. I bet her knives are still tucked there. Her skin, still the same gleaming bronze, is now wrinkle free. Her eyes are kohl rimmed, and her ink black hair spill onto her shoulders. She looks at me with confusion, her eyes searching. “Kaz?” she asks. I move toward her, and then run. Funny how a good leg is almost as useful as a grisha crafted cane.

I clasp her hands in mine, her breath caressing me. “Inej,” I whisper “What are we doing here?”

“You’re both dead actually.” says a voice behind me. I turn around to see a Fjerdan merchant approaching us. He wears a blood red coat with gold lapels. His blonde hair is slicked back, and he walks with the cool confidence of someone who just cracked a deal. The only thing differentiating him from a Kerch businessman that I once looted is that he’s surrounded by floating rocks. Inej immediately kneels beside me, and nudges me. “Sorry but I have a bad leg. Also I don’t bow to animated turkeys.” I say as I go and retrieve my cane and hat. The Fjerdan chuckles and replies in heavily accented Kerch, “I suspect that bad leg excuse is of any use to now, Kaz Brekker. Also, please get up Inej, you look extremely out of place bowing to me in a teal coat.” Inej gets up reluctantly, and when she does, she has… tears in her eyes?

“Sankt Demyan of the Rime, thank you for protecting me.” She says, and hands him one of her knives. “Ah. How poetic.” He says, and pockets the knife. That is when I realize that we, in fact are dead. And Inej’s saints, are in fact, real. Great. There goes my ten thousand kruge. Thankfully the rest of the Crows aren’t here or I would have ended up as quite literally, a bankrupt soul.

“How many times have I told you Demyan to let me welcome the visitors? You’re hardly a gracious host, let alone a good gambler,” says a Shu woman, as she walks in behind Demyan, along with a Suli girl. The Suli girl was surrounded by floating rocks as well. She looked at Inej, and smiled at her. “And now, I would like those gold buttons of yours.” Says the Shu woman.

Inej hastened to remove her own lapel, a dragon and a fox, when the woman stops her. “I’m not talking to you Wraith, I’m talking to Demyan. We had bet that Kaz Brekker would kick him in the balls when he first arrived. I however had gone for a scathing insult. So seems like I won.” She says, and takes the gold buttons that Demyan removed (albeit while grumbling) in her slender hands. “Sankta Yeryin of the Mill, and Sankta Marya of the Rock, I- it’s an honour to meet you.” says Inej, and proceeds to bow more times than she has apologized when she was alive. I am shocked to see the way these so called “saints” milk Inej’s “devotion”. She was the closest thing to a saint that people actually had down in the mortal realm, and I would rather have kicked Demyan in the balls than let Inej bow again. But I restrain myself for the sake of my jaan.

Inej gives two more knives to the women, and stands beside me. She looks like a ridiculous schoolgirl, all giddy as if she had met her favourite aunts, and I catch myself falling in love with her all over again as a dead soul. Demyan soon interrupts my thoughts with that sinuous high-pitched voice, and asks, “I see you’re unusually quite today Dirtyhands. What’s the matter?” “I’m sorry, it’s just I’m wrapping my head around the concept of not existing physically anymore. Also I’ve heard you carry your belongings with you to the afterlife, so where’s all my gold?” I reply. Yeryin chuckles, her slit eyes crinkling while Marya looks at me in disbelief. Her voice, booming like a mountain echo, repeats what she, and countless others back in the mortal world, including my wife, thought each day, “Have you no honour Kaz Brekker?” I just shrug and adjust my hat.

“Anyways, ah, back to the topic at hand.” says Demyan, as he walks towards a tree. No wait, the tree. It could easily be as tall as a mountain. Five springs gush forth from its roots, and a heart is suspended from thorns right in front of a tear in it. The heart with the thorns I remember from the most epic heist of my career, involving legends and the Ravkan monarchy. The tree I do not. Inej asks, “Mind me, O great Saint of the Dead, but could you please acquaint us with our surroundings?” Wow. That’s a lot of vocabulary from a woman whose last sentence, in my memories, is complaining how the medicine she gave me smelled like rat fart. “Oh yup that’s Djel. Or rather his ash tree. Quite popular with my countryfolk.” he says cheerfully. “And we’re here in a mountain in the Sikurzoi, in a different plane of existence. For you, are dead.” he continues, with that ridiculous smile of his. Marya then steps forward, her voice slightly less enthusiastic, giving me the feel that this is all probably quite rehearsed for a while now. “You are a long way from home my loves. Kaz Brekker, you died a natural death. Inej Ghafa, you also died a natural death. Both of you were a hundred and thirteen years old, with Inej dying within a year of your death. The form you have now, is the form you chose to be remembered as.” she says. Yeryin huffs past us, her robes billowing, and hands the buttons over to Demyan, raising up her hand to his face and showing a symbol that quite contradicts with the Saint of Hospitality. “I should have expected such from you, you merchant scum.” she says. She then turns to directly address us and says, “Enough introductions though. The real reason you’ve been brought here is for another reason entirely. You see, the souls of the dead…”

I roll my eyes as the Sankta prepares for another lecture about how our “feeble human brains can’t comprehend the world.” I regret having married Inej in this moment in the afterlife though. Dirtyhands would’ve conned them by now and found a way back to the mortal realm. Kaz Brekker on the other hand, sits on the grass like a five-year old listening a story. Inej sits beside me, her coat now lying beside her in a heap and her hair fluttering open. How I wish I could’ve seen her in the open sea like that.

“…are usually brought to the other sides of the tree.” Yeryin says, waving her hands in an elegant motion to summon up a throne made out of the river pebbles and rocks, confirming that the trio were all, in fact, Fabrikators. “There, they are all assessed in context with their deeds on earth. Everything that they’ve gone through, and everything they’ve done is all taken into account by the Saint of The Book.” She then points to a woman, invisible until this point, sitting near the tree. She bends over a desk, poring over a giant ledger and surrounded by thick books. Her thick blonde hair covered her face, her glasses perched on her wide nose, and her fair, plump skin flushed. “The three of us then decide their fate in the afterlife. Those, who we decide are ‘good’, enjoy the fruits of paradise for a while and then return to the making at the heart of this world. Those, who we deem ‘bad’, are impaled on the thorn wood until they are purged of their sins. They then bathe in one of Djel’s springs, and return back to merzost.”

“Yeah but why are you telling us all of this? We get it, we’re dead, so which way are we going?” I ask the Saints. Inej elbows me once again, scolding me with her eyes. I shrug, and stand up with my cane. “Unless you have something else to tell us, I would like to take your leave. Saints.” I start to walk, when I find myself tripping over. I right myself with my cane just in time, and see that my hands and feet are bound by vines, Demyan’s hands raised up. These saints want a taste of Dirtyhands? Fine. I will show them Dirtyhands.

I see Kaz’s demeanour change. He slips into the familiar garb of Dirtyhands, his eyes cold as flint, lips slightly pursed, standing like the King of the Barrel. I get into a fighting stance, my heavy coat no longer obstructing me. I feel the presence of my remaining knives, regretting handing over the rest. I respect my Saints, but nobody, and I repeat nobody, touches my husband and escapes alive.

Marya stands immovable, her eyes gazing at something in the distance. Yeryin clasps her hands, and states, “You came here at our wish Kaz Brekker. You leave with our wish as well. No need to reach for your knives Wraith they won’t serve you here.” I feel a tug inside me, as if someone is yanking on my leash. Before I know, I am pulled back, my breath knocked out of me, and I crash into a wooden chair. Kaz suffers a similar fate beside me, and I can see his anger barely in check. “Why are you doing this to us?” I ask Marya. She glances at me, her eyes tearful, and replies, “Because we’re tired Inej Ghafa. Because you’re now, the new gods of death.”

Great. We’re the subject of a cruel joke by the Saints and are being tortured for our sins. “We don’t want anything to do with you or your jobs. Just release us and march us over to the thorn wood, I’m ready to answer for my crimes.” “Oh you silly girl, we won’t kill our scapegoats, will we? Isn’t that right my fellow sisters?” Demyan says in his ridiculously cheerful manner. That smile takes me back to the West Stave, Heleen bartering over me with the slavers, her sinuous smile each time I resisted her. I eventually did track my slavers, although only Kaz knows of their fate, for he was the one who insisted on having them. Demyan then comes over to us, and the Saint of Death’s face becomes morose. He kneels in front of us, as if pleading with us, and says, “You see, we’re linked directly with humans and grisha. Death. Hospitality. Pathfinder. Our roles were fundamental to the balance of the world, to the smooth passage of souls and justice in the afterlife. However, seeing the Starless One return back to merzost, seeing Juris merge with the Dragonqueen, has made us realize that we thought impossible, was actually just – improbable. You would certainly know about that, wouldn’t you Dirtyhands?” Demyan glances at Kaz, his eyes moist, while Kaz looks at him unflinchingly. Weren’t the Saints destined to perform their duties? Then why are they looking for scapegoats? Demyan comes back to me, his tone rushed as he blurted out his plan. “We long to be free Inej Ghafa. We too long to return back from where we came. We too long to feel.” Yeryin and Marya then float over to us. “A Saint that dispenses justice, must have suffered injustice to be accurate in his judgements. He should be immovable, yet sensitive to the souls he receives. Kaz Brekker, you have shown us the resilience and fury of a Saint.” Yeryin says. Marya then glances at me, and begins, “Jaan, you’re one of my own people, and so I hold a special place for you. The Saint that is the Reaper, who brings over the souls of the dead, must kill without remorse. Must feel for each soul with all of her heart. She must be indiscriminate in her search.” “And you Inej Ghafa have shown us that heart.” Demyan finishes, clasping my hand. “The part is yours, should you keep it. However, remember, you must take it up with free will, for handling the deceased is a far more tedious and draining task than it sounds.”

I look back at Kaz. His eyes are focussed on the ground, his brain coming up with another wild scheme. I look at the Saints with disbelief. All this time, as I, as millions, prayed to them, honouring their martyrdoms with festivals and prayers, the Saints just longed to be human. Kaz finally speaks after what feels like an eternity. “I have a question. Are the Saints willing to answer that?” “But of course. That is the least we can do for you.” says Yeryin.

“You might’ve come across two souls in your eternal career. Jordie, and Pekka Rollins. What fate awaited them?” I ask hesitantly. I am both excited and afraid of the answer the saints hold for me. Marya looks at the Saint of the Book. She rises, and comes towards us, a small register in her hands. She hands it to Marya, and returns back, giving me a not-so subtle side look. Marya searches for the names I asked, clears her throat, and begins. “Pekka Rollins, the leader of the Dimes, a gang in the streets of Ketterdam, was impaled on the thorn wood. He was purged of all his sins, and then chose to return back to merzost. As for Jordie, your brother, he did not choose to stay for long.” I look back at Marya. “His soul… was tormented. Even though he was healed with the waters of Djel, even though we helped his soul discover his unknown gift as a Grisha Tidemaker, he kept searching this garden for you. In the end, he chose to take a single bite of Djel’s fruit, and returned back to merzost, finally at peace.”

Jordie’s fate stuns me into silence. Pekka Rollins snatched our life on Earth, but even in the gardens of paradise my brother kept searching for me. My vision blurs, my brother’s destiny opening a well of sadness in me, his peaceful return to merzost the only respite offered to him. This was the place where Jordie’s soul searched for me. Where he waited and waited for me, until he dissolved back into the heart of the world. And this is where I would choose to stay for eternity, the only place that holds my brother’s peace. I look at Marya, and nod.

Beside me, Inej grasps my hand, and smiles. She then looks down at Demyan, and says, “We will take up the mantel of your duties, O Revered Saints.” I roll my eyes. It’s as if Sturmhond’s vocabulary worms it’s way into Inej’s brain each time she talks to her saints.

The saints all look at each other, then smile and open their arms. “Our powers, are then yours, Wraith and Dirtyhands.” Golden rays, the colour of sundried wheat and barley emit from Yeryin. Ink black waves surge from Demyan while a shower of dirt erupts from Marya. The three slowly disappear, probably to a much better place. The knives Inej gave to them clatter on the ground.

Inej picks up her coat, dusts it off, and shrugs it on. She picks up her knives, touching them to her forehead, and wipes them on her sleeve. “So what do we now?” she asks me. “Well we’re here for eternity, alone, at least till you go off to bring our souls. Let’s have some fun.” I say and suggestively smirk. The Saint of the Book widens her eyes in horror as she looks at us. “Oh keep it in your pants, you perv.” I say, as I give a big shout and run towards the gentle slope along the riverbank, Inej’s soft padded boots following me, as we both tumble into each other and hurtle to the earth.