#gentlemen. i must protest.

[heymacy]

You look like a fuckin' wet rat. Stop.

[golbrocklovely]

the rakish gentlemen // sam and colby

A/N: just a general statement across the board: i'm not going for historical accuracy here. i did a very small amount of research for this, most of which was based on the language and some of the societal norms but even then, it wasn't a thorough search. so if things are incorrect or not quite right… that's why. also this is heavily inspired by my new found love for bridgerton, so anything in the story that reminds you of that (show or book wise) - that's also why lol anyone that writes regency romances or stories, props to you bc the formal English alone made me want to off myself. just kidding… but not really. anyway, i hope you enjoy this one. it was fun to write once i got the hang out it. lmk what you think and i'll see you guys with another fic (hopefully) soon :)

prompt: being out in society was enough of a challenge, but overhearing two very sought after lords' snide remarks about you made you want to give up altogether. that is until you hatch a plan - make them beg for your hand in marriage, and then leave them high and dry. it should be simple enough. || AU!regency era sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: formal english (lol), historical inaccuracy, lots of 'samuel' and 'cole' so if you don't like that don't read lol, snc are kind of dicks but they turn it around by the end somewhat, just a whisper of smut but not really, cliff hanger ending??, heavy on gender norms of the time period so be weary of that if that's something you don't like, bit of angst, everyone is of age/in their 20s

word count: 6347

~~~~~~~~

The weather in London during the middle of spring was the absolute best time of year, according to most in the Ton. To Miss Y/N Y/L/N, it was the most splendid of weather to promenade with one's closest confidant, and for her that was Miss Amelia Ruteledge. The two had been inseparable since childhood, living across the street from one another. And coming out in society together only strengthened their bond over the last two seasons.

"How eager are you for Lady Gillingham's masquerade ball this evening?" Amelia asked, coyly stealing a glance at Y/N.

"I can hardly wait. I am positively elated." Y/N replied dryly, her faux smile wide.

"Y/N, must you indulge in sarcasm?" She questioned.

"Yes, Amelia. I must," a quiet laugh fell from her lips. "It is hard for me to be excited for yet another ball, one where I will again be doomed to the corner of the room, watching as others dance."

"I had presumed you enjoyed observing." Amelia teased.

"It is not as fun anymore, ever since your courtship with Viscount Throne began." Y/N sighed, wiping away pretend tears from her cheeks, "Alas, my spinsterhood is in full bloom."

She shook her head, patting Y/N's arm sweetly, "Don't be ridiculous. You are nowhere near being a spinster."

"I'm two years out in society with little to show for it. One might believe I had contracted the plague, given how much the gentlemen of the Ton disregard me." Y/N rolled her eyes, her voice bitter.

"You mustn't say that. You are an absolute catch, by all accounts." Amelia argued, looking into Y/N's eyes.

She huffed. "Thank you. But your opinion apparently is the only one that is favorable towards me."

"That is simply not true," she protested back. "I believe many gentlemen in the Ton would admire you once they were acquainted. But I would not be surprised if your charm and wit intimidate them, thereby causing their reluctance."

A cheeky smile appeared on Y/N's face. "I couldn't have said that better myself." The ladies giggled, continuing down the walkway towards a small pond. Y/N glanced upwards, noting the eligible men coming their way. Grabbing Amelia's arm, she yanked her behind a tree close by, pressing her back tightly against the oak.

Amelia furrowed her brow, "What ails you?"

Y/N hushed her, looking over Amelia’s shoulder. "I don't wish to speak to anyone else presently. Particularly suitors."

"So you think hiding behind a tree is wise?" She blinked.

Y/N wanted to glare, but held back. "Guess I'm not as witty as you thought."

Amelia peaked behind the tree, their maids coming closer to them. She gestured for them to stop, not wanting the men Y/N was so flustered by to notice. The maids turned towards each other, giving a knowing look, and faced the pond instead.

"Did they leave yet?" Y/N whispered.

Amelia hummed. "No. They are still coming our way."

"Damn." She cursed, scrunching her face.

"Speak louder. I am sure your coarse tongue will make them leave hastily." She gaped.

Y/N held back more careless words, doing her best to remain calm. "I am certain that any gentleman has heard far worse words than a solitary curse from a lady's lips."

Amelia peaked again, her eyes widening. "Oh, you are correct about that. Did you see who was coming?"

"No. I just knew it was three gentlemen." Y/N dissented.

"It's Mr. Beaumont... with Lord Golbach and Lord Brock." Amelia choked out.

"Ah, even worse than I imagined." Y/N gulped.

Lord Samuel Golbach and Lord Cole Brock were some of the most sought after men in all of the Ton. Eager mamas and anxious daughters alike pined to be seen affectionately by the two Lords. They were not only rich, but handsome - a deadly combination. And with years of friendship under their belt, they were basically family to one another. Everyone out in society knew - to get in good graces with one, you had to be liked by the other.

But even with everyone wanting their attention, they were seldom to give it out. The rakish behavior displayed by the two was known throughout, which confused Y/N deeply. Why play cat and mouse if one knows it's not trying to be caught? Why pretend to be an eligible bachelor if there were no plans to seek a wife at all?

Y/N knew to stay away. She had no interest in them, moreover.

"Mr. Beaumont, I do believe you are one of the funniest men in all of London." Cole chuckled, clasping the man on the shoulder.

Edward bowed, "Such high praise coming from you, Lord Brock. You two are going to tonight's ball, yes?"

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world." Samuel grinned, glancing at Cole knowingly.

"I must ask, are there any ladies that have caught your eye this season?" Edward continued.

Samuel shook his head, "Unsurprisingly, no. Cole and I have very high standards. So high, in fact, it has been impossible to find anyone worthy of matching with." 

"How incredibly rude." Amelia murmured.

"I am confident there are several ladies in the Ton that would be worthy of becoming your wives. What about Miss Mullens?" Edward mentioned.

"Terrible dancer." Cole quipped.

He questioned, "How about Miss Walford?" 

Samuel frowned. "Her character is sorely lacking." 

"Miss Ramsbury?" He puzzled.

"Beautiful indeed, most obnoxious laugh I've ever heard however." Cole jeered.

"Miss Y/L/N! What about her? She seems well." Edward exclaimed.

A silence filled the air, Y/N only hearing the sound of her pounding heart within her breast. While she may not have harbored interest in either Lord, the notion of their thoughts about her caused her skin to tingle thrillingly. She had never heard a man speak of her in any way, romantic or otherwise. She was eager to know.

Both men snickered, an almost childish laugh cutting through. Samuel cleared his throat, "You must be joking, Beaumont. That lady, would be the last on our list to ever be courted by us. Remember, we have high standards."

"Not even worthy of considering, if I'm honest." Cole sniveled.

“I suppose those are the lower ranking ladies of the Ton.” Mr. Beaumont chortled.

Amelia moved to jump out from behind the tree, ready to give all three gentlemen a piece of her mind. Y/N grabbed her arm, yanking her close. She motioned for her to remain silent, listening once more to the Lords and Mr. Beaumont.

"It is getting late, good sirs. I must be arriving back home soon for late afternoon tea with the missus. Good day, Lord Golbach. Lord Brock. Best of luck on your endeavors." He bowed, the Lords following suit.

Y/N finally turned to all three gentlemen, still covered by the oak tree. She watched as the Lords went off in the opposite direction as Mr. Beaumont. She waited until they were far enough away, taking her first breath in for what felt like years.

"I cannot believe those men!" Amelia screeched lowly.

Y/N slid down the tree, resting her head back, exhausted. "It's incredible, really. Dare I say... humbling?"

"Calling them rakes is the nicest thing I can think of. They are-" She started.

Cutting her off, Y/N placed a hand up. "Save your words, Amelia. Heaven knows I'm thinking far worse than you."

She stared at the ground for a moment, replaying their words over and over in her head. It hurt to hear how cold they were towards her, someone they had never even had a single conversation with.

"Lord Golbach and Lord Brock don't know you, Y/N. And by the way they speak of strangers, they don't deserve to know you either. No wonder no one has won their affections. They have far too much for themselves." Amelia retorted. She fanned herself, feeling her skin growing hot with anger.

Y/N mumbled. "High standards, remember?"

"I have heard of the numerous rejections they’ve given to the ladies of the Ton. It's astonishing how sought after they remain." Amelia declared, utterly appalled.

Rejected. The word echoed in Y/N's head. No one knew that feeling quite like her, especially not the Lords. Who could ever reject them...

Abruptly, Y/N jumped to her feet with an incredulous smirk; an idea rushing to the forefront of her mind.

"Pray tell, what is that look for?" Amelia queried.

"I believe the Lords just need a dose of their own medicine." She sang snidely. 

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"What lady in all of the Ton has ever rejected them? Every girl and mama swoons at their feet; that's why they feel they can judge and dismiss anyone they want, regardless of how perfect a match the lady might be," Y/N stated. "So... what if that is turned on them?"

"How?" Amelia leaned back against the tree, studying her friend.

"Tonight's ball. It is a masquerade. Those two have never spoken to me, not once in all of the two years I've been out. Yet somehow, they've already declared I'm not worthy to be their wife just from mere appearances alone. Well, what if they aren't worthy enough to be my husband?" Y/N's eyes were wild, a mischievous glint sparkling within.

She gasped, "You're going to reject them?"

"I shall make them plead for my hand in marriage, only to desert them after all." She boasted.

"Do you think you can do that?" Amelia cocked her head to the side.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "I plan to beat them at their own game. I am sure they won’t know what to do with themselves when a woman is actually disinterested in them. Plus, anything else my charm and wit can make up for… hopefully."

"Are you sure your skills are up to the challenge? This could possibly ruin you if done incorrectly. A man won't take his pride being scorned." Amelia worried, holding Y/N's hand briefly. 

She gave Amelia's hand a gentle squeeze, "I have been watching for two seasons what works and what doesn't. I've always been too frightened to be myself, to be vulnerable. But I have nothing to lose tonight. I am not interested in them, and they do not even see me as a potential match. I have to do this, for my pride alone." 

Y/N strutted away, nodding to her maid to follow her. She stopped for a moment, turning back to Amelia. "After tonight, no more Miss Wallflower." 

~~~~

Luckily for Y/N, being friendly with the modiste had its perks. For one, she was able to have some alterations done to her gown long before the ball. She was used to wearing more muted colors; colors that faded her into the background of any dance. But now, staring in the looking glass at herself, her rose colored gown almost sparkled in the candlelight.

She knew this would be one of the more flashier gowns, even for a masquerade. Lady Gillingham's balls were always known as being a bit uptight; the masquerade was the only one where going against her rules was allowed. But most in the Ton dared to not break them even so.

Y/N felt a rush of nerves hit her. Would this be enough to cause the Lords to notice her? She hoped. If not, her whole plan would be foiled.

The carriage ride to the Gillingham estate felt like an eternity. Y/N fanned herself repeatedly; the cool night air doing nothing for her warm skin.

Amelia and Y/N wrote to one another to meet at the Gillingham lineage painting that adorned the entrance. Both ladies concurred that the face of Viscount Gillingham in the painting always looked like he was cocked eyed; something they both had jested about their first time out in society. They knew that was their spot to meet if they needed to step away from it all. But tonight, because of their masks, they wanted to be able to find a familiar face in the crowd if anything was to go awry.

Y/N pulled her cloak tightly to her bodice, making sure her dress was covered. She gazed around the foyer of the estate, the grand ceilings always making her feel so small. She could hear the ball had commenced, a fanciful melody being played by the orchestra echoed down the halls. She waited under the painting, glancing at all of the attendees coming through the doors. Which one would be Amelia and her Viscount?

Rounding the stairs, a golden dress shone in the corner of Y/N's vision. She turned, making note of the matching locks of hair.

Along with their meeting spot, Y/N and Amelia devised a query only they knew. Y/N studied the woman, finally speaking. "Excuse me, have you ever read Emma? It is one of my favorite novels."

"There is nothing like staying home, for real comfort." Amelia quoted, relief hitting her at the sound of her friend's voice.

Y/N sighed, "Oh thank Heavens it's you Amelia. I thought you might already be in the ballroom."

Amelia shook her head, "I informed you I would wait until your arrival to enter the ball."

Y/N gazed over Amelia's shoulder, looking for someone. "Where is your Viscount?"

She smiled, "He had affairs to tend to, and said he wouldn't be able to make it tonight. So I'm all yours."

"You don't have to stay with me all night. Just until my plan works on the Lords." The girls locked their arms with one another, slowly walking towards the ballroom.

"They've already arrived. I saw them come in moments before you." Amelia whispered low.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Well, let's make our grand entrance then."

As the ladies walked into the ballroom, Y/N noted that they were the last two to enter. She held her breath, staring over the railing of the beautiful marble stairs. She could feel all eyes turn to her and Amelia. Amelia trotted down the stairs, her gloved fingers holding the banister gently. Y/N waited until she was at the bottom, and began her descent. 

Now was the time to woo over the men of the Ton, she thought. She untied her cloak, letting it fall off her shoulders; leaving it on the stairs. Light gasps fell from around the room. She knew her alterations would cause a stir, but gasps? She was taken aback by such sounds.

Not only did she go gloveless to this event, but her slightly lowered neckline showed off her most precious of jewels in more ways than one. The modiste spoke of how most of the Ton was not breaking Gillingham's rules, disregarding the whole point of a masquerade. Y/N knew this was her time to shine. To become a rule breaker.

Lord Golbach and Lord Brock were rule breakers themselves. And even more so, heartbreakers. They were aware of this too. Samuel and Cole gave each other a quick glance, noting the breathtaking beauty dressed in rose coming down the stairs.

Eligible gentlemen from around the room scurried over to Amelia and Y/N, doing their best to introduce themselves quickly. Cole smoothed out his suit jacket, parted his way through the crowd and reached Y/N in no time.

Y/N was taken aback by all the men surrounding her, never having this much attention before. As she glanced up, her eyes immediately made contact with a pair of striking blue ones. The pleasing smile, the chestnut hair, the almost devilish gaze.... she knew it could only be one man.

"Miss Rose, lovely to make your acquaintance." Cole bowed, speaking over all of the men pining for her.

She scrunched her face, confused. "Do you believe that to be my name?"

He blinked, "No. I'm simply calling you that because of your gown."

"Oh..." Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly, returning to a more disinterested persona. "How clever."

"May I accompany you to the floor?" He asked, his voice as smooth as silk.

A man in the small crowd let out a scoff, "Good sir, I do believe I was-"

"I think I can speak for myself, your grace." She turned back to Cole, a playful smile on her lips, "I'm afraid you aren't the first to ask. But if you care to wait, I'll gladly dance with you second."

Lord Brock was surprised, but he chalked up this misunderstanding to her not knowing who he was. No one ever denied Cole a dance. Even those with cards completely filled out. He bowed graciously, moving out of the way so she could be guided onto the dancefloor by the other gentleman.

By his short stature, Cole could tell it was Viscount Davis. While he did have a lot of money, he was a tiresome presence to be around. And surely, Miss Rose would soon find that out herself.

And Y/N did, in record time. Being eye-level with a gentleman was not exactly something she was used to, but all it did was make her very aware of his eyes stealing glances at her bosom. The song ended rather quickly, the Heavens listening to her pleas. Before she could even curtsy at the gentleman, Cole was already next to her, waiting to join her in the next dance. She almost laughed at how eager he was; how easily her plan was playing out. They bowed to one another, and the music slowly began. His expert hands slid into hers, warm and welcoming. His close proximity made her aware suddenly just how handsome he really was. She could understand, for a moment, why so many ladies fawned over him. And her heart skipped a beat.

"Would you be alright with me breaking the rules this evening?" Cole chimed in suddenly.

Y/N cocked her head, "That depends on what you intend to break."

"I would like to tell you my name, and perhaps you will tell me yours?" He wagered. 

"Perhaps..." She trailed off, detached.

"I'm Lord Brock. And if you glance over your shoulder now, the man by the refreshments table is Lord Samuel Golbach." He motioned with his head behind her.

Y/N did peak, noting the eyes of Samuel following her and Cole around the room. "Hmm. Interesting."

"May you wish to tell me yours now?" Cole smiled.

"No, I do not." Y/N shook her head plainly.

"I am surprised. But maybe I shouldn't be," Cole spun her, pulling her back into him. "It appears that you resemble me in many respects."

"And what respects are those?" She questioned.

"If I may presume, you seem inclined to forge your own path. You do not heed merely because it was asked of you." He remarked honestly.

Y/N felt her heart skip again, damning her feelings internally as she kept up her charade. "And you have been able to deduce all of this from the mere twenty minutes I've been in this ballroom?"

Cole smirked confidently, "What can I say? I possess the ability to read others well, particularly charming young ladies."

She held back the urge to roll her eyes at his response. While she wanted to beat him at his own game, she didn't want to be rude. "And how well has that worked out for you, my Lord? Since apparently you and Samuel can't seem to find a match."

Hearing Sam's name fall from her lips was shocking, but that alone made him like her more. She was feisty, and he enjoyed that quality in a woman. "Having standards set high has caused some issues, yes. But maybe I will find the one tonight."

"Have you already encountered someone that has peaked your interest?" She inquired. 

"I would say so. It shouldn't come as a shock since you're the only one I've danced with tonight. And the only one I plan to." He brought his face closer to hers, flashing a charming smile.

"How delightful," Y/N mimicked his look. "I cannot say I feel the same, unfortunately."

His face dropped instantly, "I beg your pardon?"

Y/N wanted to relish in this moment for forever, but the music was slowly coming to an end. "Oh, my apologies, my Lord. I thought we were speaking candidly." 

"You... you don't enjoy my company?" Cole stammered. Stammered.

"Well, you are an accomplished dancer and pleasing to the eye and yet... I am unable to see you worthy as a potential suitor." She curtsied dramatically as their dance finished, her mischievous eyes sparkling from the flames of the candles. "My deepest gratitude, my Lord, for being my second dance. If you'll excuse me, I must go see my other suitors, however."

Y/N turned away, swaying her hips sensually as she walked over to Amelia. Her skin felt like it was on fire from where Cole had been touching her. Even though she hated admitting it, something about Cole was mesmerizing. Intoxicating, even. If she hadn't heard what he said this afternoon, she could see a world in which she would fall for him.

But she couldn't focus on that now. She couldn't believe she had actually done it. She successfully rejected one of the Lords.

Amelia gaped, staring at Y/N. "I'm in awe of you, truly. You are a goddess amongst men."

"I feel like I'm going to faint." Y/N grabbed Amelia's arm, keeping her back turned towards the dancefloor. 

"Really?" Amelia pushed her glass to Y/N, who nodded a 'thank you'.

"Sort of." Y/N downed her lemonade, the refreshing citrus drink calming her nerves only slightly. "Is he still looking over here?"

"If by 'looking' you mean casting daggers, then indeed, that is the case. And," she giggled nervously, "try not to faint when I tell you this, but Lord Golbach is making his approach."

Y/N swallowed hard. "You jest."

Amelia gave a weary smile, "No, but I must make my getaway."

She backed away quickly from Y/N, who called out, "Wait, Ame-!"

"Miss Rose, how wonderful to finally meet." Samuel interjected suddenly.

Y/N took a deep breath, spinning on her heel to face him. "Lord Golbach."

He raised a brow at her, "You know who I am."

"How could I mistake a face like yours for any other?" She replied with a sneer tone.

Sam sucked his teeth, her biting tongue captivating him immensely. Ladies hardly ever truly said how they were feeling around him, and it was refreshing to hear such honesty. "I would entertain that notion if Cole had not informed me of disclosing my identity to you."

Her smile dropped, "I would still be able to pick you out in any crowd, my Lord. I would just have to look for the trail of broken hearts and I would instantly find the two of you."

"My reputation makes me sound harsh." He deadpanned.

She held back the urge to roll her eyes, "I think you and Cole are, in fact, harsh. Reputation or not."

A playful grin rose on Sam's face as he reached out his hand towards Y/N. "Dance with me, Miss Rose."

"And if I say no?" She responded defiantly. 

"I will leave you be," he answered. "But what fun you will miss, declining a dance from a gentleman whom you have already passed judgment upon."

She was surprised by Sam's charisma, his almost flirty nature. She politely took his hand, allowing him to guide her onto the dancefloor. Bowing, she steadied herself.. She was not used to this attention, especially from such desirable gentlemen. She knew deep down she shouldn't like teasing the Lords, but part of her enjoyed knowing they found her coveted.

He gazed down at her, inspecting her. "Your gown is quite suitable. You must come from a high ranking family."

"Thank you," she replied plainly. "And yes, some would say that. It helps that I am acquainted with the modiste in town, as well."

"Really? Not many are like you in that way. I've always found it odd how the higher ranking families in the Ton look down upon the working class." Sam admitted.

Y/N nodded, "Truly. It is such a pity. They are no different than us, the only major thing is that we were born into wealth."

"We are all human, after all." He concurred.

"Respecting our fellow man and cherishing the relationships we have and can make should be number one priority. It's a shame how many in the Ton don't see that." She remarked.

Samuel raised his eyebrows, spinning the young lady in time with the music. "You are one of the only women to think so. Many I have courted never spoke of such qualities."

She could feel her skin grow warmer with annoyance, "Interestingly, my beliefs stem from other women I've had the pleasure of knowing. How often do you ask any? Or do you merely go off of appearances and assumptions alone?"

His face dropped, a bitter smile resting on his mouth. "You and I must be similar in that regard."

"Possibly, yes. However, you are the one with a reputation of casting aside women you don't deem fit enough to be courted." Y/N argued, glaring.

He scoffed, "My apologies for having-"

She interjected, "High standards. Yes, I know."

The dance slowly began to end, her grip falling limp in Sam's hold. An anger unlike Y/N had ever felt was bubbling inside of her. Her grace and dignity almost flying out the window when she looked up at Sam, who seemed perplexed by her words. "I thank you for proving my assertions correct."

"And what exactly where they?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Your character is sorely lacking, and I will never want to court or be married to a man like that." Y/N spun on her heel, pure fire filling her veins. She ought to not have become so agitated, but she was unable to restrain herself. While both men played innocent and kind to her face, she knew of how mean they spoke of her mere hours ago. The sole reason they were like this was because of their ignorance of her identity. She had been taught her whole life to be respectful, to both men and women, no matter what ranking they were. And to see such blatant disrespect come from such a high caliber of men in the Ton infuriated her to no end.

This is who was supposed to be the aspiring husbands in the marriage mart? Being a spinster did not sound too bad after all.

Y/N wanted to find Amelia, but decided against staying in the ballroom. She ventured off to the entrance, standing at the portrait. She paced for a moment, trying to calm her nerves. She heard footsteps coming from the ballroom, expecting Amelia to be following her. But two men walked through, Samuel and Cole.

Her eyes widened as she watched them search for her. She rushed up the stairs, finding the closest room and hiding inside of it. It was a study, most likely Viscount Gillingham's. She closed the door swiftly, praying they hadn't seen her do so. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on the window. Fresh air sounded absolutely wonderful to her. She walked over to the window, attempting to open it.

The door swung open, Sam and Cole staring at her quizzically. "What do you plan to do? Shimmy down the garden wall?"

She huffed, turning to the gentlemen. "Do you take pride in stalking ladies or is that just an extracurricular for you both?"

"You have a surprisingly mean spirit for a lady. You must have suitors lining the street waiting for your hand." Cole sassed, stepping into the room.

"Well, as long as you both aren't in line, I shall have decent prospects." Y/N sniveled.

Samuel ranted, "Pray, what precisely is your objection to us? You do not resemble any woman we've previously courted. Why do you harbor resentment?"

"I do not have to have been courted by you to dislike you, Lord Golbach. Perhaps I find your inability to care for a woman's heart atrocious and that alone sparked my malicious feelings." She rebutted, her hands firmly on her hips.

"Did we hurt a sister of yours? Perhaps a friend." Cole responded, almost in jest.

She shook her head heatedly. "No. No. As humorously as that would be, you hurt mine without ever courting me. So congratulations are in order for that feat."

Both of the gentlemen's faces dropped, annoyed. "How?"

"I overheard you, today, at the park. Along with your friend Beaumont. You all had such a delightful time picking apart different women, none of which measured up to your standards for one reason or another." She spat.

Cole shook his head, almost trying to reset his vision. "A-And what is wrong with having standards?"

"There is nothing wrong with that," Y/N grunted. "The problem lies in how you go about finding those standards. Let's not play foolish here: you both know how sought after you are. And you also know that you most likely won't be finding a match anytime soon. So why be out in society?"

Sam’s eyes rolled for a moment. "Are we not permitted to partake in revelry?"

"You can, but not at the expense of women's hearts or reputations!" Her voice boomed off the walls of the study. The room fell silent, the men watching her with wide eyes. 

She continued passionately. "Do you know how completely ignorant it is to badmouth a woman to one of your fellow gentlemen? It is already hard enough as a lady to find a suitable husband when you have every other lady fighting for said affections. But to have fellow men berate and downgrade you as if you are a second-prized poodle is humiliating. Because if you two think that way about me, how else do the other men of the Ton feel? How am I supposed to navigate a labyrinth I had no realization I was in?"

Both men were stunned into silence, but finally Cole spoke. "We should be wiser with our words, yes. But it's not exactly easy for us, either."

"Oh please." She murmured, exhausted.

He moved towards her, shaking his head. "We are told to act a certain way, to be men. The rakish behavior we have to put on is all but a front. At least for him and I. It is exhausting wanting to be open and vulnerable and honest when no one reciprocates those feelings back. So it's easier to put up walls and guard yourself and pretend to be something you're not. But in the end it all hurts the same."

"But you're a man. And not just any one, a prominent one. You could..." Y/N exhaled. "Change what is expected."

"It is not that simple. And it's already a lonely road for those that do not follow what is to be asked of you." Cole paused, swallowing. "I often wonder if a love match is something I will ever find, or if I'm doomed to face a marriage with a woman that is a complete stranger to me for the rest of my days."

She frowned, "Find someone to love, then."

Cole bit his lip harshly, holding back his hurt, "I wish I could. I wish my family would allow that. There are certain expectations I've been destined to meet since birth that I wish I could shake. But it's not as simple as it sounds."

Y/N looked towards Sam, "And what about you?"

"I... I don't know how to express myself. At all," he muttered, stoic and awkward. "This life of mine is not even remotely fulfilling. And I am afraid I am wasting it being someone I never wished to be."

For a moment, Y/N's heart ached for both gentlemen. She stared at them, and they were no longer men, but boys. And for the first time in years, when she expressed exactly how she felt without fear of rejection, she felt like a girl again. The brutal honesty of being a child with no expectations placed.

"I apologize for being so… careless." Her demeanor softened,  "Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed so harshly.." 

"No. Your honesty is refreshing. I don't think anyone has called us out in years." Samuel commented.

Cole smirked, "Or ever, really."

She giggled, and genuinely smiled, for the first time all night. They smiled back, their grins earnest. 

"You have the sweetest of laughs. Almost like honey." Samuel complimented.

She bowed her head, doing her best to hide her blush. "T-That is very kind of you to say, my Lord."

Cole chimed in, the men sharing a look. "May I ask you a question, Miss Rose?"

Y/N nodded, watching them as they drew closer to her.

"Would it be alright if I call upon you tomorrow?" He asked.

Samuel added, "I too, would wish to do that, as well."

Her eyes widened, "I beg your pardon?"

"You are merely unlike any lady I have ever encountered. Unlike any we have met before. And I am certain that both of us would cherish the opportunity to become better acquainted with you." Cole explained genuinely.

"Even after I've insulted you to your face?" She sassed.

"Even more so, yes." Samuel's eyes glimmered mischievously.

Y/N questioned, "Are you sure that would be wise?"

"I would say it's about as wise as you being in a room, alone, with the two of us. Unchaperoned." Cole's voice deepened, causing Y/N's eyes to flutter.

Y/N suddenly became very aware of how close the Lords were to her. Her lips parted, wanting to gasp, but she was rendered speechless. She glanced between the two of them, watching as the space between them and her came to an almost close. Her back was up against the window sill, and she could feel the heat of Sam and Cole's bodies rolling off onto hers.

She closed her eyes tightly, savoring the moment. This was her first time truly feeling stirred by the presence of a man. Multiple men.

"But you are gentlemen." She choked out.

His eyes darkened. "Of course. We would never do anything untoward an honorable young lady, like yourself."

"All you have to do is say so, and we'll stop." Sam uttered huskily. 

Cole spun Y/N to face him, her mouth falling open in surprise. He stared at her devilishly, his eyes taking in every part of her slowly. A breath blew across the back of Y/N's neck, startling her. She glanced over her shoulder through hooded eyes to see Sam, closing the space between her and him. His mouth danced up her neck, stopping right under her ear.

"Do you want us to stop?" Cole whispered softly.

Y/N shuddered a breath, his hands cupping her waist as he stepped closer to her. His mouth was on the other side of her neck, peppering light kisses up and down her throat. Y/N closed her eyes, her chest heaving as her breath fought to catch up. Y/N had had one kiss before in her entire life, right before coming out into society. And she had heard whispers of what... intimacy, between a man and woman was like.

But this was a whole new world for her.

Heat pooled low in her stomach as the men traced their lips over her skin, breathing her in. Sam's hands rested lightly on her lower back, tracing up and down her corset lining. Cole's hands rubbed up and down her bare arms, goosebumps rising in their wake.

Their bodies were firm up against hers. It was almost like a waltz the way the Lords' movements guided her. She was entranced by it all, following their every direction. Then, suddenly it hit her.

She won. And not only did she win, but the clock was very close to midnight. And it was time to leave.

Y/N took a deep breath, something she felt she hadn't done in ages, and slithered her way out from between each man.

"Well, gentlemen, this has been a lovely evening. But I must be getting home." Y/N stated calmly.

Both men were stunned into silence, again, by her. "Wh... What?"

"Did I say something surprising?" She gazed innocently at them, then headed towards the door.

Samuel and Cole stared at her in awe, an almost amused smile resting on their lips. She truly was incomparable.

As she opened the door to the study, Samuel called out, "You must tell us who you are, at the very least."

She paused, her hand resting on the handle. She had considered making her getaway, not letting them know who she was. But part of her wondered what their faces would look like once they knew it was her, Y/N, that left them this way. Hot and bothered.

She untied her mask slowly, holding it delicately in her hands. She turned back to the Lords, gazing at them both.

"Goodnight, Lord Golbach and Lord Brock. I hope you have a splendid evening." She bowed, and rushed out, taking the stairs quickly.

Sam and Cole stood in silence for a while, reliving the moments they had just shared with Y/N. Neither one could wrap their minds about what took place, or that it was Y/N - of all people - that had caused these feelings to occur. Feelings that both men had not experienced in a very long time, if ever.

Sam stuck his hand out to Cole, raising an eyebrow at him. "May the best man win."

Cole smirked, grasping his friend's hand tightly. "Indeed."

The gentlemen knew only one of them would win Y/N's heart. And now it was time to see who could ever conquer such a feat.

[n30nwrites]

Heel (Shifter TF141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 3 of Good Doggy.

Masterlist here

Warnings - Just some sadness. Some thought of death but nothing too in detail. Some talks of sex and mention of Mating??? But nothing too explicit. Reader is kind of a dick but I understand it, you won't for a bit though. Also Price thinks about some dark things like kidnapping/murder, along with some thoughts on noncon biting, Lowkey the boys get kind of yandere in a way but nothing too dark I think. Ghost thinks about killing you. Also internalized homophobia but enough to not even notice, Thoughts of dubious consent.

Updated: 3/5/2024

Beta Reader/Editor: The one and only @letmelickyoureyeballs

Gaz takes his first step towards hope and he now understands everything.

He understands why Soap wouldn't shut up yesterday about you. He understands why Price held that meeting. He understands why Ghost keeps staring. He understands why he had to wait.

All good things come to those who wait. And he was patient. Some god out there must have seen that and granted him you. Because even though your eyes are covered he knows that you are it for him. It hasn't been officially confirmed, but there was no way you weren't it.

He doesn't think he can handle you not being his mate.

The car door opens and a woman walks out. And you greet her with a hug and a whisper in her ear about the stares from the neighbors, which she laughs at and kisses your cheek. And Gaz pauses in his movement.

He can hear his pack’s footsteps as they stumble out the door. Their words of protest at his actions quickly came to a stop as they realized that someone had joined you.

You take off your glasses to look at them as you pull away and he can imagine a future with you. He wants to live in this neighborhood, your house or his but he knew his would be big enough for a litter of pups. He wanted to have you stay home, healthy and fat and never in danger. 

Kyle looked at you like there was something worth looking at.

He now knows that he is going to continue loving you, and that he does not see a future when you will eventually pass on as all humans do. You are too gorgeous to be real, exactly what he waited for all this time and he does not regret it all.

You can't help but question your neighbors. There's four of them, as it turns out. All in black which you would judge if you weren't doing the same. Maya follows your gaze and you know that their attention must be on her.

She's beautiful, and you aren't insecure of yourself in a way, but even you had feelings for her at one point. Her left arm is a metal prosthetic, one that was forged by a family friend. She stands tall and proud and it makes you feel more confident. 

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She understands society's norms. She's polite with a possible killer, she bares her teeth showing a smile that is wide and almost innocent to falsely secure these men in front of her. She was a killer in disguise. Prepared at all times.

"Just greeting the new neighbors." Kyle says and the other three come next to him. They are in your yard, something that makes you uncomfortable.

"You greet differently than your friends." You comment, glancing at Soap and Ghost. "Still seem to have a staring problem." You lower your sunglasses more trying to ignore the harsh light. You make eye contact with each of them and your chest aches at it. "This is my partner-"

"Maya." She interrupts, taking the attention away from you. "You gentlemen mind helping us move our stuff in." And you glare at her, not that you cared for their help, you didn't like people touching your stuff nor did you like strangers being in your space. She was the opposite, she didn’t care if people entered her house. You guessed that now you had to share a living space with her, you’d have to get over it at some point. They step closer to agree.

"Really gonna invite some strangers to help?" You say loudly, knowing that they heard because you didn't care to hide the dislike. 

"I don't wanna carry these boxes darling..." She drags out the word, "Plus you need to rest for work tonight." Your shift lasts from 10 pm to 6 am. "Don't want you to tire yourself out."

She puts on a caring layer. You trust her but you don't like this form of parenting she's trying to do with you. 

"I'm not leaving them with our stuff. Go get the boys set up." You tell her as you head to the back of the trunk and open it. Maya opens the side door, grabbing two animal carriers. You can hear your dog barking, Maya’s cat was probably sleeping. The car smells of sulfur and you twitch your nose, adjusting your face mask. "You can go back to your house." You say to them right as Maya goes inside.

"We said we'd help, might as well." You weren't expecting the accent to come from the stalker with the mohawk. "I'm Soap." Soap, it was a strange nickname. "That's Ghost." He points to the stalker with the mask. 

Soap and Ghost. Your two witnesses to your moving in. The men who just stared.

They look familiar.

"I'm Kyle." He's hot. You're staring at him, fully aware of that. They're all hot. He holds out his hand and you shake it, not immediately repulsing at the touch which was strange. You say your name. "That's Price." He points to John.

"John Price..." You say his name aloud, "And here I thought you were just John." You told him, grabbing a box of books and shoving it into Kyle's arms. "Living room, next to the built-in bookcase by the sun nook."

You kept shoving the boxes into their arms, anxious every time you couldn't see one of them. Out of all four of them, Ghost made you the most uncomfortable. He wouldn't stop staring. And you told him as much when it came to an end.

"Do you stare because you plan to kill me or simply because you have issues?" Maya had insisted you'd walk them to their house despite it being right across from yours. She said it was the polite thing to do, and you told her that it was bullshit but you weren't going to argue against her and waste your energy on it. Ghost was the last to walk onto the porch, still not blinking. "If you are going to kill me, you will fail."

"Why did you move here?" He asks, and they are all staring.

"Learn to blink." You tell him, "You do not need to know why I am here. We are not friends, we are not gonna be friends, Maya is nice to you because she thinks you are attractive and I can see where it is coming from, but this thing you are doing, talking and trying to help out and telling me your nicknames."

You pause as you stare at Kyle's eyes.

"It's useless. I want nothing to do with you."

And Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick breaks inside.

"You are being too cruel to them," Maya says as you close the door. The house is soundproof, she made sure of it. She knows they can hear the conversation if they wanted to, which is why she had blocked off any possible sound to escape.

"How? They are being a nuisance-"

"They are men who found their mate. I've seen worse reactions when soulmates meet, surprised they haven't hugged you at all." Maya manipulates her fingers in the air as if she’s plucking a string, and she probably is through her eyes. Maya had always had a gift to see the bond between others, The Strings of Fate, a curse Zeus put on everyone eons ago. Theseus escaped the Minotaur with his thread that connected him to Ariadne, and it seemed Clotho had it in for you. It used to be that everyone could see their own String of Fate, until a few centuries ago when an argument broke out amongst the Gods. Now only a certain few could, and Maya was one of them. 

"If they did I would cut their cocks off." You cringe at the idea of touch. "I do not understand why you are defending them-"

"Because you are being an asshole!" Maya shouts and you turn away, rubbing at your nose as you let out a sigh.

"I understand why they are acting the way they are." Kyle's and Soap's puppy dog eyes almost broke you, they were too handsome. "But you understand why I am like this. It is better to tell them upfront is it not?"

"You haven't even given them a chance-"

"I am not leading them on. I am not manipulating them like I could. I do not want anything to do with them and you know that that is for the best." She says your name to stop you, and you're confused by it.

Why can't she admit to herself the truth? It happened to you just a couple of years ago and you were already over it, but yet she couldn't be?

"Maya," You look at her, "I do not have a soul. I can not feel what they feel. It is impossible for me to have soulmates."

It's confusing. When everything you thought you know changes. How a simple moment becomes so complicated. It's happened to Gaz a few times in his life, where he's had to change everything he's thought and adapt to the new.

You were supposed to be a woman.

He was supposed to be straight.

He never thought about people in a romantic sense. Sex was one thing, it's a way to release emotions and it's something fun. You didn't have to have an emotional tie with someone for it. But dating was separate. You had to let people in for that, to let them know the ugly parts of you and trust that they won't run.

You weren't supposed to run.

Gaz leaves first. He's the first to stop staring at the air, going into his room and immediately undressing. His mind is blank, running on instincts. The minute he’s done, he’s out the backdoor shifting. 

The pain of his bones breaking quickly disappears, but he welcomes it despite how little it was. He grows paws and fur all over his body, and goes back to his basic instincts.

He's gone for hours.

Price is the last to move. He's angry at you for everything you said, he’s half a mind to go into your house and just kidnap you.

Who were you to tell him what to do? You were a selfish human, completely unaware of everything they were willing to do for you. You had them on a leash, begging for scraps of attention that you were starving them for.

You hated him, and that made John angry. He wants to burn your house down and show you that you can't be safe without him, he wants to kill Maya, she took you from him.

From them.

He can hear the howls from Gaz and he grabs a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet. He chugs it down, it's not that hard to finish a drink, especially when you crave the burn of it. He wants to shift as well, but that would require ignoring his responsibilities. 

He wished he could show you what makes him right for you.

He just needed one night with you and he was sure he could change your mind. One bite and it was all over, you'd be stuck with him.

He lights a cigar and stays in the kitchen, quiet.

Stupid, foolish human. Weak, you were pathetic truly.

It was one thing to not like him, it was another to hurt his family.

He thinks that killing you would make it all go away. Ghost doesn't care that it would hurt him for eternity if he was to kill you, he's convinced he can do it and make his pack forget about you, whether it's with time or a witch.

He's convinced that he could get away with it. 

And then he remembers your heart beat and he can't. He knows he can't kill you. But he wishes it was that easy.

Instead of planning your demise, Ghost calls every contact he has looking for information about you. Looking for anything, and while he finds out your last name, he comes to realize that you did not exist 6 years ago.

And when he calls Laswell to question you, she insists he stops looking if he wants to stay safe.

He does not listen.

Soap thinks about every movement you make.

He convinces himself you're playing hard to get. That you like being chased after like a bunny.

His bunny, his defenseless mate who doesn’t know what was good for him.

You were ignorant, it was okay.

He could help you.

"Ah will protect ye mate. Yer mines bun." 

------

NEXT

Okay so maybe I wrote a bit longer. And yeah maybe the boys do seem out of character but literally they will not be like this long, it is just the idea that losing half of your soul makes you mad.

This is just chapter 3 and it's heavy with angst ig?? Um next chapter will definitely be lighter, and so will chapter 5. But hey I guess it's your decision to stick around for that long.

Also maya looks like Salma Hayek because that is a beautiful woman.

And I am not sure how to write Soap's dialect?? I'm trying my best I swear.

Also please leave comments and reblog, more interaction means more interest and I'll probably continue to write it.

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 21 - Breakthrough

Breakthrough (noun) 1. [general] A sudden, dramatic, and important discovery or development

Tags & Warnings: none

"... and Aunt Susan had to swat him with our broom to get him to leave me alone, can you believe it? Some guys won't take a 'No' as an answer, but who'd want to marry a boring dud like Gustav? Much less when there are much more handsome and dapper gentlemen out there?"

Alastor blinked – one eye after the other - smiling politely, but as he listened to the babbling of that gossiping windbag Gladys, he felt more and more annoyed. There weren't many creatures in hell that he would endure the auditive torture of getting his ears chewed off while the wretch basically undressed him with her dead, black eyes for - but Rosie was one of them, and Alastor knew he had monopolized Gem for the last weeks, so a few minutes alone with her was the least he could grant his oldest companion. Still, he knew this was also Rosie’s form of punishment - and what a punishment it was. The women of cannibal town were always persistent enough whenever he came around, but Gladys... well, she took his rumored desirability as a bachelor to a whole new level. Whenever Alastor set foot into Cannibal Town, Gladys would rush out in search for him, like a damn bloodhound. Luckily for him, his shadows provided the means for quick escapes and avoiding any unnecessary encounters, and usually Rosie too would hold her at bay.

But now, he needed his full concentration and discipline to appear nonchalant, only letting out short, appropriate sounds as the scarecrow of a lady continued to chatter, eyeing him down and making suggestive remarks with an obvious wink.

Satan, that woman was really trying too hard.

He knew a good hour must have passed, surely this had to suffice, and he gave a quick cough to interrupt Gladys mid-babbling. "Ah, would you look at the time! Apologies, but I have to retrieve my assistant and return to my hotel."

Gladys wrinkled her nose in discontent. "But Alastor - we barely even talked for... " her boney hands pulled out a pocket watch from her childishly ruffled skirt pocket, "... ten minutes.

Only ten minutes? Huh. Well, that had to do. Alastor wouldn't stay a minute longer in the vicinity of this vulture, even if he'd risk Rosie's annoyance. It would be a cheap price to pay, given the alternative. "Oh, nonsense dear - when in your company, mere minutes can feel like eternity! Ha-ha, but I mustn't hold you off from looking for that catch of a man any longer. Wish that fella good luck from me if you find him!" And, as he turned and hurried to Rosie’s backrooms as quick as decorum allowed, ignoring her angry protests, he murmured to himself "The poor bastard is gonna need it."

As he swept the curtain back and stepped back into the warmth of the parlor, he scanned the room. Empty. Hm. He felt his ears itching, a sign that his patience was running dangerously thin.

"Rosie, my dear? Kitten? Where in the seven circles are you now?"

No answer came, but his erect ears caught something faint - almost like a breeze. Then he heard your voice. Or several? And... was that Rosie? He stepped closer, slowly as his curiosity awoke, towards the only other door leading out of her parlor, the one leading upstairs into Rosie’s private apartment. As he got nearer, he could hear it clearly now. Rosie speaking - encouraging, softly, gentle even... he reached for the doorknob as he felt a shift, a burst of sudden, powerful magick and energy and he smelled, felt and tasted the signature essence of her. Gem. His gem.

Losing any dignity he had, he almost ripped the door from its hinges, storming in and staring wide eyed at the spectacle happening before him. A smile stretched across his face, wide, sharp teeth showing and his pupils taking over his whole eyes, a wave of awe and adoration rippled through his being.

Gem had produced another copy. A yellow one, shining and sparkling like gold coated in iridescent powder. They were staring at each other, her eyes, shifting through the color wheel, fixated on her counterpart, who beamed back at her. He felt the pull again, the need to touch it, feel it, devour it - but as he took a step, Rosie shook her head, holding up a hand and spoke in a calm, but warning tone "Alastor. Wait. Let her try something. Please."

He took a deep, snarling breath, fighting the urge to ignore her. But he halted. Waited.

The room was quiet for a moment, still in a way that almost seemed like the whole of hell held its breath. Then, both of them looked at him. The alive eyes of his darling kitten, and the glittering ones of the copy. The latter started to move, so different than her rosy counterpart did. While the one Alastor had met moved like a snake, slow and seductively, teasing and flowing like a silken scarf caught in a gush of wind - This one moved like a ray of sunshine in a mirror - flittering, quickly and light-footed, almost as if it was bouncing off light itself. Three heads followed her movement, Rosie's face full of enchantment, Gem's full of concentrated tension. And his? What did he look like, he wondered, watching the alter ego coming towards him? The energy moving closer made him unable to think about anything but sheer, possessive delight. And pride. Gem was his, and this version of her was part of her, so he had to possess it too.

The golden copy took a last step towards him, her smile as bright as hells sun. She opened her mouth, and the short hairs on the back of his head stood when he heard her voice - like an echo of the familiar, soft voice of her, getting lost in a crystalline grotto, reflected through stone and water, but clearly audible:

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻. 𝓖𝓮𝓶 𝓼𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓮 𝓾𝓼, 𝓼𝓸 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽: 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓒𝓲𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮.

He couldn't take the suspense a second longer. His control slipped and his shadows leapt out to take her and bring her to him, into his grasp, not caring for Rosie's warning anymore as his main focus was on this beauty that his Gem had created, and the need to have it consuming him. But as his black appendages so much as touched her, she shattered into shards of gold, and broke into shimmering dust as he heard a laugh like a faint bell that quickly faded into thin air. Alastor cursed silently, the anticipation and eagerness he had felt turning into bittersweet disappointment, and the crackle of energy in the air turning into nothingness. Sabotaged by his own greediness.

He sighed, turning to the tutting sound of Rosie, but instead of the reproachful gaze and frown he expected, she looked smug and quite pleased with herself.

His gem however looked shaken, wide eyed, as if she was unsure if she was allowed to feel accomplished or not and searching his eyes for guidance. That she still was ever so submissive and molding to his whims as the day he met her made his stirring mind calm and his chest tight. "Well, would you look at that. You finally did it, darling." He commented, still holding his smile as steady as he could, his head tilted in amazement as those few words seemed to wash away all the insecurities that had been written all over her face.

"I-I did it." She said, voice small, and he could see the hint of a flush on her cheeks and neck, the sight causing his grin to widen as Rosie pinched her cheeks. "Yes you did, and how marvelous it was, dove! That darling Citrine is lovely, and the others will sure follow suit. Oh! Meeting them will be so exciting!"

Alastor only understood half of what was said. The ghosting jolts of energy still sparked around him as Rosie and his kitten had to fill the unnerving gaps of information about what had happened to get to this point. It irked him that he hadn't been here to see it all unfold, curse that hag Gladys for keeping him away and Rosie for sending him to her in the first place. The snarl growing was instantly erased when her vivid eyes found his, flashing in golds and pinks.

Forget the momentary disappointment, he reminded himself - this was a welcome, exciting development. The copies of her had some sort of sentience - not much unlike his own magick, which filled him with a smug sense of satisfaction. He should've been at least miffed about Rosie interfering in her training and taking a lead, but he couldn't bring himself to be. After all, maybe Gem needed a more gentle and... less possessive approach to foster what Alastor had intended to teach her. And if she could do it once, she could do it again, that he was sure of. The seed had been planted – and despite this little mishap, Alastor would make sure that no one else but HIM would be the one to nurse it to bloom.

Alastor bridged the short distance to the seating area, patting his lovely lynx's head in passing before he decidedly sat down in the one-seater and crossed his legs, leaning back with an expectant look and folded hands.

"So, now that praise has been sufficiently distributed: Would either of you lovely ladies be so kind to bring me up to speed?"

You felt weird. Good or bad weird, you weren't totally decided on.

Seeing your mother again, so vividly you even felt her gentle hands around you as you remembered the last real hug you got from her before you abandoned her and left for the Academy had sparked something in you. Something so powerful you felt like you split in half. And you had, in a way. It wasn't like the last times when those strange you-s appeared. You almost felt as if she was asking you for permission to show herself, vibrating inside you with the want to come out, and you had allowed her. Remained conscious while you had stared at the dark, yellow thing piecing itself together before you.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you. We all are." she had said in your voice. Different, slightly, but so remarkably you still.

"We?" You heard Rosie whisper next to you, but you didn't care to turn and look at her. All your attention was on her.

She chuckled, and held out her hand for you.

"The rest of us. You. I'm only one of many. You can call me Citrine."

Your arm lifted, slowly, as if not under your own control. It felt so surreal, her fingers brushing over yours. She was solid. Real. Not a dream.

"You're beautiful." Words just fell out of your mouth, and her clinking laughter rang through the air.

"Yes, you are." Citrine smiled at you. "Just as mom said - we learned to shine, right?"

It felt so right, and yet, not at all, to hear her talk to you, with your voice, your expressions. Talking about mom. It hurt. And yet, it didn't. It was confusing, but the way she felt so much like a part of you, so connected, it felt... good.

"What..." Your voice was a dry rasp as licked your lips in a nervous attempt to find the right words. "What is happening?"

"You are the one calling the shots, love." Rosie answered. She too was fixated on the shimmering figure, who turned her head to Rosie, a smile on her face. "She's right. You're our conductor, Gem. We are a reflection of you, parts at least."

As if in agreement, the voices in your head hummed in an overstimulating symphony, making your head fuzzy with noise.

‘A reflection.’  Your voice that wasn’t you echoed.

‘We are you.’

‘You are us.’

‘Parts of you.’

‘Light and Darkness...’

You opened your mouth to say something, but there was a bang and a voice that was as familiar as your own. You turned and saw him, and the way the shadows swirled around him, his red eyes fixated on the glittering being you had conjured up. Alastor looked...

‘Hungry.’  A voice whispered, and the others giggled.

‘Desperate.’

‘Fascinated.’

‘Dangerous.’

‘Perfect."

You blinked as Rosie said something you didn't really registered. Citrine was still staring at you, waiting. Waiting for you to tell her what to do. You could feel it, the energy flowing between the two of you, connecting you like a bridge. You wondered...

You concentrated, detaching your thoughts from the still chattering choir inside to visualize your own, stronger and clear through the noise. 'You... can you... go over to him? Talk to him?'

Citrine grins happily at you, almost glowing. 'Of course, I'd love to! What you want me to say?' you heard her answer in your mind, clear as day over the hum of the others.

You thought for a moment. 'Just... tell him who you are?'

Citrine nodded.

Then she was gone. She moved like sunshine, like light dancing on a water surface, and before you knew it, she had skipped over to Alastor. She said something, and you saw his shadows burst out to reach for her and she vanished into a golden sparkle, like dust particles in the sun. It all happened so fast, the moment so overwhelming that you felt like you could've missed it if you blinked.

Alastor was staring at the space where Citrine had been and it made your heart drop that he looked almost offended. Was he mad? Displeased that you did what he intended for you to do without his presence? Did he feel like you disobeyed him? Or worse... that you disappointed him?

"Well, would you look at that. You finally did it, darling."

His words extinguished the flames licking at your insides, and you felt relief and exhilaration rushing through you.

"I-I did it." You stuttered. He was proud, not angry. You hadn't disappointed him.

"Yes, and how marvelous it was, dove! That darling Citrine is lovely, and the others will sure follow suit. Oh! Meeting them will be so exciting!" Rosie clasped her hands together in glee, the corners of her eyes wrinkling and her lips forming an excited, wide grin. You were happy to see her so enthusiastic, but Alastor interrupted the moment with a loud clearing of his throat.

"So, now that praise has been sufficiently distributed: would either of you lovely ladies be so kind to bring me up to speed?"

You sat down, glad that Rosie did all the talking. You were still a bit out of it, trying to process everything that just happened, and it didn't help that the voices in your head were still talking wildly and in such a fast succession that it was hard to pick up a full sentence.

"So... that's about the gist of it. I thought I could help her tap into her powers, since, well..." Rosie gestured between you both, barely hiding the knowing smile tugging at her lips "... your approach might've been too... charged?"

You felt your cheeks flushing slightly at the obvious indication, but Alastor looked unperturbed, save a barely visible tic of his eye.

"Very helpful indeed." he stated, and the cannibal overlord giggled behind her hand as he rolled his eyes and adjusted his monocle in defiance of having to outright thank her.

Rosie hummed and brushed her shoulders against yours with a wink, a silent sign of 'Don't worry about him, we all know the truth.' and you felt yourself relax a bit.

"But I think it's about time we have to return to the hotel, dearest. We still have to report our plentiful successes to the princess, and we're already fashionably late." He pushed himself out of the arm chair, and you hurriedly sprang up at the flick of his wrist motioning you to follow him. Rosie huffed, half-annoyed and half-amused at the sudden rush her oldest friend seemed to be in, and lead you back down the staircase and through the still buzzing shop, throwing an unnerved and approaching Gladys a razor-sharp smile full of condescended pity as the three of you passed her and her friends. Rosie opened the shop doors, the bell over it chiming brightly while she bowed down to hug you goodbye.

"Alright, off you go. But visit more often, do you hear me, mister? That goes for you too, dove - don't leave me waiting to see you so long again, alright? You have my permission to nag his fluffy ears off if he holds you too... busy." Her eyes darted over at the broad man next to the two of you, twinkling with mischief while the tensed grin persisted on his face as he took your arm, leading the both of you to the sidewalk outside.

"What a threat, dear friend - I shall wear earmuffs in the future then." You almost laugh out loud, not expecting the joke, and the twitch of his hand on your arm and the softening lines around his eyes tell you he notices it. Relieved, you feel him relax a bit too, and he sounded more like his usual self when he added "Cross my heart, you'll see us both soon enough…"

Ozul slithered up your leg with a happy fizz while his shadows engulfed you, his sandy warmth making you shiver as Alastor wraps one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. "…at the latest at the Blue Moon Ball. Toodle-oo!" He sing-songed and with a loud crack of thin air being forced to separate, the streets of Cannibal Town and Rosie’s bellowed laughter were left behind and the world went dark and directionless again, with him as your only anchor. Suddenly your ears popped from a sudden pressure shift and you were back in front of the Hazbin Hotel.

You staggered slightly as the dizzy wave of your travel wore off. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to that kind of extraordinary transportation.", you murmured, letting your fingers run over Ozul’s head in a silent thank you as the shade hummed and retreated from your feet once you stood steadily enough.

Alastor grinned, one of his hands running through the loosened strands of hair that had escaped your neatly tied ponytail throughout the day's progress. "It's an acquired form of mobility you'll surely get the hang of one day. If the successes of today are any indicators - you're very capable to master any kind of extraordinary." One of his claws ran down the side of your neck, the other was still holding you pressed against him as if he was reluctant to let go. His voice dropped low and became the unusual kind of smooth that had become so dangerously addicting to you, its deep vibrations sending goosebumps over your arms and the back of your neck. "But I think we should postpone this particular discussion for a later time - our friends are surely waiting and we shall not waste the opportunity to gloat about our accomplishments today."

Your face flushed at the obvious praise and you felt a slight flutter in your chest as he released you, the familiar hand on your lower back returning as he led you to the front doors and opened them for you with such soft eyes you thought they must’ve been an imagination.

The instant change of atmosphere felt tangible as soon as the two of you entered the lobby. While the lobby was abandoned and empty, you saw Angel, his back to you and with slumped shoulders at the bar, with a concerned looking Husk behind it. The cat demon had a rag thrown over his shoulder and a half-empty whiskey bottle and two tumblers in his paws, his brows furrowed as he talked to the spider-demon sitting at his counter.

"Listen, I'm sure yo' can talk to her, or him, or whatever the fuck, about this mess, okay?"

"No! I can't!!!”, Angel whined, “Husky, you know her by now - she'd… she’d want to help, and I can't - I can't let her get involved with..."

"Talk to who about what?" you asked into the hall, ignoring the wave of annoyed static next to you. Husk looked up to see the both of you and sighed, putting the rag down on the counter, while Angel seemed to fold into himself even more, turning away from you even more as you hurried to his side.

"Ah, it's nothing, Rocks. Jus'... work-stuff has been rough today. I better get to bed, it's..."

You grabbed his shoulder as he tried to stand up and get away, and your eyes widened, burning with anger when you saw blue and purple bruises scattered around his neck like inky paint. With nimble fingers, your free hand came up to hover over the marks - hand marks.

"Angel, who did that? What.... what happened?"

"It's nothing!", he insisted, still avoiding to look into your eyes, but in twisting his body to wiggle out of your grasp he revealed his face just enough for you to spot a blooming black eye.

"Nothing?! Angel, that doesn't look like nothing at all! What's going on?"

Husk looked at him, and then at you. His frown grew deeper, and his paw clenched tighter around the whiskey bottle as Alastor joined the bar silently.

"If you don't tell her, I will." Husk said, his voice low and even despite the furious look Angel shot him.

"Keep ya' nose outta my business, whiskers. I said it's nothing. I just - fuck, I jus' wanna drop out of that stupid show. I got too much work stuff goin' on, Rocks. I - I'll explain later, I have to go. We'll talk later."

With a swift move the spider demon finally got free of your grasp, snatched the bottle of booze from the bar top and rushed out of the lobby.

"Explain what?! Angel! Angel, wait!" A hand on your shoulder kept you from running after him. You whipped around to see that it wasn't Alastor but Husk that held you back, his face resigned and tired.

"I wouldn't. That's one conversation he clearly isn't ready to have with yo' now, kid."

Your ears flattened, and the fur of your tail bristled with a mix of frustration and anxiety. The exhilaration of the day was gone, replaced by worry and confusion. Alastor took Angel's empty glass in hand, swirling the remaining brown liquid around as he sat down on the counter.

"Well, luckily you offered so generously to fill us in, Husker."

The cat demon huffed and returned to his place behind the bar, his gaze lingering on you, as he took the glass out of the radio demon's hand and replaced it with a fresh, filled one, before pouring himself a good amount and knocking it back.

"I'd rather just talk to her, but I guess the 'us' is necessary with this one... C’mon, sit down, doll, and let me fix yo’ a drink – yo’ gonna need it."

[retold-tales]

Fated Crossings

Tedros Pendragon x Princess Reader

Summary: the fairwell dance leads him to his true princess

The hall was echoing with whispers and laughs as the students waited for Ms dovey to say why she called them here before their fair well dance its been a few years since Agatha and Sophie left.

Tedros has not anyone since scared their gonna leave her just like she did and he's more focused on his soon to be kingdom and he didn't need someone to distract him.

"Students I have some exciting news, princess yn well be joining us tonight, so be nice she was home schooled because of her mom's horrible accident" she paused clearing her throat.

"She will be joining us for the dance so be respectful and show her the ladies and gentlemen you've become" and with that ms dovey left to do the finishing touches for the dance.

Tedros didn't really care that some princess was coming he just wanted to escape for the night and relax "I'll see you tonight bro" Tristan murmured walking away and all Tedros did was nod.

But he wasn't the only that wanted to escape the prince that was coming tonight had never been outside her castle walls her father saying it was to dangerous and she had to beg him so she could go.

Later that day

"Ms dovey I assure you'll take good care for her" king Edward asked as he eyed his daughter who was bouncing on her feet "I assure king edward princess yn will have the time of her life and be safe" she smiled.

And as soon as king edward got back into his chariot yn was ushered into the ballroom gaining everyone's attention "everyone princess yn" and as her name was announced tedros finally looked up from his book.

He throat felt dry as he watched her carefully walked down the stairs and she was immediately surrounded by people who asked questions and interrupted her whenever she wanted to speak but they were dispursed by Ms dovey and he watched as yn kinda backed into the shadows.

"The balcony is that way" tedros spoke up scaring the poor girl "oh thank you" she squeaked and went out the door breathing in the fresh air "must be hard to be stuck in one place" tedros murmured standing beside.

He felt a connection to her he feels like he can talk to her "yea it's hard even to just getting fresh air I have like 50 men following me armed to the teeth" she whispered staring up to the stary sky.

"How about we ditch this party and I take you on a horse ride" he smiled she wanted to protest because she knew if something happened her father will have her head but she needed to get out.

She nodded her head eagerly and followed him down to the stables where he led her to a beautiful pitch black stallion she lifted her hand to his face and he quickly rubbed his face on her hand "he likes you" tedros smiled down at yn.

He gently helped her onto his horse and settled behind her, she was tightly secured in his arms making her flustered how could she be falling for someone she just met.

He took her around the grounds showing her his favorite spots and only stopped when he came to the cliffs edge where they decided to sit and talk.

They started to speak about her home schooling and his father and kingdom and they soon came to realize they almost had identical personalities.

Yn cuddled up to him as a cold breeze blew over them, he wrapped his arms around her they felt as if they knew eachother since forever tedros thought back to Agatha yes he liked her but not like this.

It was like love at first sight

Tag.List

@alathan13

[paperbag880]

Arthur Morgan x male reader

Hunted away

I love me some crusty, cowboys. Not only because I want to look like one, but just look at em.

I'm thinking of making this kind of like series type of thing

Summary: Hunting an elk is a one thing, but sheltering a coyote is another.

Genre: fluff?

Warnings: swearing

Series...how long? Idk. Pt 2 is in production = never a good thing to hear from me ✌😗

[1][2]

Hunter. That's what was your profession in the wild west filled with murder and beauty that's being forsaken. You must admit it's not the greatest job but it keeps your mouth full and the law away.

As a hunter, you came across shady people from time to time, after all, the forests are your second home, but this one seems normal. Normal but... unconscious... His stallion stood in front of him as a shield against you and your mare. "Back off." You said while sliding down your saddle and waving your hands around to shoo the horse away. With a few heads flicks the horse backed away but his ears were down dramatically. Your mare noticed this and went by your side, her own ears down. You've noticed the occasional warning air bites she gave him, you were very grateful for her.

The stranger seemed alright with only a big bump on the back of his head. Someone must have bonked him on the head which made him unconscious but you're not sure if he fell immediately after the blow or rather after he managed to get away. Nevertheless, you couldn't leave him there alone as wolfs are having pups this time around and they're starving.

"A'right, cowpoke let' get ya away from 'ere." You've managed to swing him on your shoulder and set him on your mare in hopes he won't fall off. The guy's station kept protesting and neighing aggressively. You grabbed his rains with slight difficulty but after giving him your apple he calmed down enough. "Come on boy." Whilst clicking your tongue you kicked your mare to move.

You were out there to hunt an animal not to bring an injured one home with you. You really hoped this guy has nothing to do with the law, even if he looks like an outlaw.

Arthur woke up, not in his tent but rather under a wooden roof. He tried to sit up but his spinning head brought him back down on a not-so-comfortable mattress. He could hear faint footsteps tapping around in the other room. His eyes roamed around the room for his belongings which lay right next to him. He sighed in relief as it seemed that everything was still there.

The footsteps got closer and Arthur tried to sit up again. There in front of him stood a man with a plate of food. "Oh...you up." The man said as he froze in his stride. He wasn't expecting him to get up so soon, it hasn't been even half a day and he's up. Gods know how long was he out before you came.

"You hungry?" You've asked him awkwardly. As much as you hated it you're not one for social interactions. Arthur hummed he was quite hungry and by his inspection, you didn't look like a dangerous fellow or one with venom laying around. You gave him the plate and sat down in front of him in an old wooden chair.

"Thanks." Arthur thanked you and dug into the food. His gruff voice put you off guard but not by long as you heard horses coming to your house. You've noticed how your host froze and listened to the sound as well. Your eyes locked with his. Your face held no malice just an unknown disappointment.

Before he could say anything you got up. "Stay 'ere and don't make a sound." Leaving the other man alone you stepped out of your house and as expected, there in front of you stood the sheriff and his two apprentices. The sheriff was about to walk on your porch. "Gentlemen." You've greeted them with a slight bow of your head.

"Ah, Mr. L/n! Sharp ears as always." The sheriff spoke he slowed his walk and eventually stopped in front of your porch's steps. He leaned on one of his legs whilst pressing his side on the closest wooden pillar next to him. His thumbs were stuffed into his belt idly. You haven't said anything but look at the man in his very familiar eyes. "You haven't, by any chance, ran into a scrawny-looking fella with a blue shirt, have you?" The sheriff tilted his head at you, whilst correcting his hat.

You scoffed in disgust. "With all due respect sheriff, I thought you knew I ain't messin' with the law in any way. Not even with the mutt cowpokes, you tryin' 't get." You walked passed the sheriff after you finished your sentence. "Now if you don't mind imma go and cut some logs." You grabbed an axe that was nearby.

"Pretty horse you got. Is it new?" The sheriff said while pushing himself off of the pillar. On the outside, you haven't been fazed by the question but on the inside, you knew what he was trying to make you confess.

"Yes, Mr. L/n, the horse is new. Got 'im a couple days back. What? You interested in 'im?" You turned your head with a questionable look placed on it. The sheriff laughed and looked at his horse who's been quietly standing by the other two horses of the party. He started to walk towards you in a goofy way.

Up on being close enough, he patted you on your shoulder as he kept his hand on it. "As tempting as that sounds Mr. L/n, I don't need another." The closeness of you two felt personal. "I ain't gonna always save you, M/n!" The sheriff whispered so only you and he can hear it.

"Who's the eldest, you or me?" You glared at the sheriff. His concerned face was genuine and held no malice, just like you towards your guest. The sheriff sighed and patted your shoulder again and pulled away.

"A gray stallion? Get rid of 'im as soon as possible. They don't bring fortune." The sheriff said out loud with a smile and tipped his hat at you. You knew he wasn't talking about the horse but rather your guest and the owner of said horse. "Have a nice day, brother." The sheriff, your brother, said as he mount his horse. His two 'little helpers' bid their goodbyes as well. "Come visit me sometime, Edeline would be ecstatic."

Edeline, your niece, sweet little devil. You laughed and tipped your own hat their way. "Till next time brother. Gentlemen." The sheriff smiled at you, and the men and started to gallop away from your home.

Not long till they were out of sight. You didn't wish to go inside, not unarmed at least, so you stayed true to your words and went to chop some logs. "Might as well." You mumbled and prepared your logs and axe. Your hands swung up and we're ready to fall.

"Thanks for not giving me away." You missed the log and almost hit your leg. Your guest's voice being the reason. You looked up at him frustrated, some of your outgrown hair falling to your face. "Oh, sorry partner. Wasn't ma intention."

Your guest had his head poking out of your window whilst leaning on it with his arms. "Wha's your name cowpoke?" You said irritated and collected your posture. You've stuck the axe into the tree stump, you chop your logs on, quite aggressively. You were just done with chopping. Your guest noticed your hostile mood and brought his hand up in defense.

"Arthur Morgan. 'M not a threat." He said in a higher pitch. You nodded at him and grabbed the fallen log to place it back. You've unstuck your axe. Arthur waited for your introduction but never got it. He laughed at your silence before he heard you speak.

"You should be off. Your head ain't hurtin' that much if you up and standin'." You said and finally hit the log from before, slitting it in two. "Before the law comes, 'ere again, you'll be gone!" Your eyes met his as you turned on your heel and went to the horses to feed them. Bored of your axe.

Not long after you picked a bale of hay you heard the door get shut. A little voice in your head nudged you to get your gun out but the other trusted that you are safe. Just in case you held the knife you opened your bale with close, not trusting either side of you.

"Uh... Thanks for not lettin' me die I guess." Arthur said standing in front of your makeshift stables. He watched you work and how delicate you have been with his horse.

"Yeah, you welcome. 'M not expectin' a payment." You said as you patted the beauty of a stallion before your mare got jealous and bit the horse. "H/N!" You exclaimed her name surprised as she bit very close to your hand.

Arthur laughed and leaned on the wood of your stables. "Seems like someone's jealous." Arthur patted your mare. "Easy girl. You have quite the pretty horse." He praised your mare and you felt proud of her. "I once had a mare myself."

This little piece of information caught your interest as you calmed the riled-up stallion and lead him a bit further away from your mare. "Wha's her name?" Arthur followed you and stood next to you.

"Her name was Boadicea. She... passed away, unfortunately." Arthur's voice was sad and you noticed it immediately. You kind of regretted asking.

"Sorry to hear that. Your stallion is quite catchy as well... Protected you from me." You tried to lighten to mood a bit. You could hear Arthur snicker and the gentle pats he gave his stallion. The man looks like a jerk but really now he seems like gentle man who babies his child. Quite endearing.

Arthur coughed to hush the awkward silence away. "So uh... Do you need any hel-" Before he finished his sentence you cut in sharply which made the man raise his hands up in defense.

"I said, 'm not expectin' any payment, cowpoke!"

"Easy there, I'm just tryin' to be nice." He hissed back. Taking offense yet he wouldn't hurt you as he didn't need to. "Look, the head still hurtin' and I can't go back just yet." He pointed a finger at you and frowned. "You're stuck with me so I might as well help ya a little."

You walked closer to him and stood so close that you could easily head-bump him, your eyes dangerously bearing into his. "Do not threaten me on my own land, cowboy!" You said lowly.

"I'm not threatenin' you, partner." Arthur spat the 'partner' out. His eyes never left yours. You must admit you respect the guy.

You leaned back. "Grab your gun." You walked away to the back of your hut as Arthur stood there confused. "We oughta hunt."

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 16 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: So much happens in this chapter and so much tea is spilled here....and so I must warn you of a few things. There are some trigger warnings for this chapter and mentions of sexual abuse and past attempts of assault. Don't come for my head??? Anyways, other than the warning, I'm excited to hear your thoughts and please let me know what you think!

Getting her brother to acclimatize was easy.  All it took from her was the promise of the Sharpe competitive spirit and the fact that surely, she was going to decimate him in croquet.  A smile had broken out on his features as the two siblings, oldest and youngest, violently fought over the croquet mallets and who would be what color. 

That seemed to jar some of the other men into relaxing a little bit—and given Abe’s resilience and youthful spirit, he represented a bright and shining moment that they could relate to and get back to.  Ruth would consider it a win.  The only person who stayed out of their particularly vicious croquet game was Robby, though she had an inkling as to why. 

The two of them were cut from the same cloth.  And if it had been Ruth who had gone up in the air and survived and done those things, she would have wanted to throw herself into work as well.  But there wasn’t work to be done here, not in the same way that Robby would have a purpose with.  

“You’re making that face again,” Abe advised quietly—this time was the second go around for croquet and he was bound and determined to make certain that his sister lost. 

But Ruth wasn’t really paying attention to the game.  She was paying attention to the walkway, where Robert Rosenthal was currently walking.  If she could just get him to let loose and relax a little bit—to let go of the handles and let someone else drive for a change—then maybe these men stood a chance at escaping the burnout.  

“Hmm?” Ruth questioned, gaze falling back on her brother.  “You didn’t steal my turn, did you?” 

“No, we’re just waiting on you,” Abe said, gesturing emphatically at the hoops on the ground. 

Ruth lined her mallet up and gave a grin as the mallet collided with the ball.  It went straight through another hoop and she smirked at the men.  “I believe that’s another point for me.” 

“Ugh, we’re never going to stop her.  She’s more formidable than the Germans,” Pappy exclaimed. 

“As lovely as that is,” Ruth replied.  “I’m a bit parched.  I’m just going to grab a drink and then I’ll be with you gentlemen.” Before they could so much as protest, considering the fact that they were in the middle of a game, Ruth was off and out of sight.  She was a woman on a mission and if that mission entailed getting Robby Rosenthal’s head screwed on straight, then she’d be damn sure that she’d do it correctly. 

Ruth’s heeled feet clicked against the pavement and then the sounds stopped as she hurried onto the grass.  It didn’t take her long to catch up with Robby, catching him by the arm and giving an innocent smile. 

“Take a turn around the grounds with me?” 

“What is this, a regency novel?” Robby said, swatting her arm away in annoyance.  

“Maybe I just want to talk to you.” 

“Okay, Miss-Always-Has-An-Ulterior-Motive,” Rosie nearly snorted at the thought that she just wanted to talk.  The last time that Ruth had just wanted to talk, the two of them had nearly ended up verbally murdering each other in the hallway after a deposition.  

A slight frown curled on her lips and she glowered at him for a moment.  “Fine.  The therapist here says that you’re being uncooperative.” 

“And he thought that talking to you was going to make that better?” 

“Oh please,” Ruth scoffed.  “That’s not his intention in telling me.  They just think that a swift smack to the head might do the job better.” 

“Well you always were a woman of godly violence.” 

“Obviously,” Ruth said with a slight sniff as they walked.  “You’re deflecting though, even in this conversation.  Which is not like you, Mr. Always-Has-To-Be-Confrontational.” 

“I do not—” 

“I believe you just proved my point,” Ruth retorted smugly.  

Rosie let out a huff of air as they started down a hill towards a maze.  “Listen, I just don’t think it’s in my best interest or in the army’s best interest to have me here right now.  That’s all.” 

“Okay, so what is?  Letting you fly every single day until your brain just goes numb from what you’re seeing?” Ruth pointed out.  

Before he could retort to that, the two of them stopped short at the sound of a sob.  Ruth didn’t fail to notice the way that Robby’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched up.  He looked like he wanted to go to the boy sitting back there and crying.  But his heart was just as clenched up as his fists were.  His feet remained rooted to the ground and Ruth just gently guided Robby back out of the maze. 

“Listen,” Ruth said in a quiet tone.  “The Brass is worried about you.  And that means they’re worried about your men too.  Don’t make me knock you upside the head because you’re being stubborn.  Got it?” 

Rosie just let out a deep sigh, gaze falling on Ruth finally.  “Yeah alright. I got it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruth sat in the library, paper in hand and a pen.  She wasn’t quite sure what to say about what had happened in the last few weeks.  The fact that her brother was now here and at Thorpe Abbotts.  The fact that she had lied and was helping him stay in the military.  The fact that nearly everyone in the Hundredth had been downed or killed in action.  

How do you go about even beginning something like that?  But she had done her best.  About halfway through her letter to Dick Winters, Ruth just felt weary.  How was it that the only person she was really telling everything to was hours away from her and she had never felt further from humanity than she did at this very moment?  

The music from the next room was almost overpowering as she set down her pen, staring at the letter in front of her. How to express loneliness in a simple sentence?  She didn’t regret leaving him, she didn’t—but she missed him all the same.  She missed feeling like she was an actual person and not just an appendage by which the war was being fought.  

I feel out place here.  It’s not that my job isn’t important, because it is.  You know my job has always come first.  I just get thinking that everyone is going to go up in the sky and they won’t come back down.  And I’ll just be left here in the in-between, wondering what’s left for me when it’s all over. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find you burning the midnight oil,” Robby’s voice flooded Ruth’s ears and she glanced up from her spot in her armchair, finding him standing in the doorway in his pajamas. 

“And you’re clearly sleeping as well as finals week,” Ruth retorted. 

“You and that therapist—” Robby just shook his head.  “He told me I’d find you in here.” 

“He thinks you should talk to me?” 

“I think it was his way of encouraging socialization, given how tense dinner was earlier,” Robby amended.  “Abe doing okay?” 

Ruth set down the letter, gaze flickering at Robby.  He had cautiously taken a few steps inside of the library, sitting down in an armchair not too far from her.  “He’s a good kid, he’ll be okay,” Ruth insisted.  “He’s tough as nails, that one.” 

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Robby cracked a small smile at her.  “Who are you writing?  Let me guess, Timothy—” 

“I would never write to him,” Ruth’s tone hissed out so quickly and in such a venom, Robert felt like he had missed something significant. 

“I thought that you two—” 

“Yeah well—” Ruth huffed out.  “I would never write to someone as awful as he was.” 

It was silent for a long second and when Ruth glanced up, she thought she saw something softening ever so slightly in Robby’s eyes.  And she didn’t like it one bit.  “I guess I always just assumed that—” 

“That I was the colossal bitch for breaking up with my fianceé a few months before the wedding?” Ruth deadpanned.  “Everyone thinks that they know what happened but they have no idea what kind of man he was.” 

Robby seemed to be struggling with his words.  “And—and what kind of man was he?” 

Ruth fell silent for a long minute.  “You remember the deposition we had to do together?  You said I was off my game and I looked tired?” 

“Well yeah.  Why?” 

“The night before, he had gotten back a few scores.  We had gone out for some drinks,” Ruth’s hands began to fiddle together in her lap.  A nervous tic given the topic at hand.  “And he was nice, as he always was.  But then I got him home.  And I’m not much of a drinker.  Maybe I should have been that night.  He wanted me to sleep with him—didn’t see much sense in waiting since we were getting married anyway.” 

“He didn’t—” Robby started. 

“Well I told him no,” Ruth cut him off.  “And then he told me that it’d be better if we just started now.  Because no wife of his was going to be a lawyer anyway.  His wife was going to stay home and have his babies.  I thought that was bullshit and told him so.  I guess he was so angry that he—uh—he wasn’t himself.  And he grabbed the nearest pan in the kitchen and he just….started hitting me with it.” 

There was a long beat of silence.  “Holy shit, Ruth.” 

“He must’ve hit me fifteen or sixteen times before stopping and trying to get on top of me.  But you know me, I’m so petty and competitive.  So I grabbed the pan and slammed it into his face.  It must’ve been one hell of a hit because he sobered up and began crying and apologizing.  But I was out of there, left the ring and everything. I told him that if I ever saw him again, I wouldn’t hesitate to prosecute the shit out of him,” Ruth admitted.  “I went to a clinic in Queens so that mama wouldn’t find out.  He broke two of my ribs and left some permanent damage to some other things,” Ruth admitted. 

“But—but—you were there the next day.  At the deposition,” Rosie’s heart sank in his chest as he stared at her. 

“Well I don’t like to lose,” Ruth replied dryly.  “I never told anyone that story until now.  I guess it’s because I really do think you’re a good person, even if you annoy the hell out of me.” 

“Ruth,” Rosie started in a soft tone. 

“Oh don’t get all sentimental and weird on me.  I prefer being at odds with you,” Ruth said. She glanced at the letter on the arm of the seat and gestured at it.  “And as for who I’m writing, it’s my last boyfriend.  From Aldbourne.  Good man, good friend.  I guess I ran away when he wanted to get serious because of the Timothy shit.  Because I’m not going to stifle myself for anyone.  Not even myself.” 

It was a lot to take in.  And for a moment, just a shining moment, Robert Rosenthal thought that he saw behind the curtain to where the real Ruth Sharpe had been hiding.  She had been nicer before that engagement.  And afterwards, she had turned ice cold and bitter—and now that he knew why, it made him sick.  

“You know,” Robby started slowly.  “You coulda come to me.  I would’ve helped.” 

Ruth just let out a sigh.  “If I want help, I’ll ask for it.” 

“Would you?” He challenged. 

“Are you?” Ruth retorted.  “The way that I see it, you and I don’t get along because we’re too much alike.  And I hate to even admit that much, but it’s the truth.  You want to get the hell out of here because you need to be busy. You need to have things to do so that you don’t feel useless or so that you don’t break down.  It’s simple, really.” 

“Then what’s the solution?  Oh wise Ruth Sharpe,” Robby snapped in a sarcastic tone. 

Now there was that bite that she had been looking and waiting for.  Ruth let her lips curl up into a smirk.  “Well for one, your men need you.  So get your head on straight.  And two?  You’re a damn good pilot.  You compartmentalize as much as you can so that you can be at your best all of the time.” 

“Simple as that, huh?” 

“Simple as that,” Ruth retorted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abe was awfully suspicious that last day at the Flak-House.  He seemed to be more and more nervous the more downtime that the men had.  Because the more downtime there was, the more questions that they had for him.  And he had no clue on some of the things they were asking him. 

So that last day, he pulled Rosie and Ruth over to a table and began to lay out his plans. “Listen, I’ve told them that I was accepted into college.” 

“What college?” Ruth and Rosie immediately questioned at the same time.  

“NYU,” Abe admitted, running a hand through his hair.  “It should be fine, right?” 

“I mean, probably,” Rosie said with a shrug.  “As long as you remember that, yeah.” 

“You know,” Came a voice from the other table.  “You three are always looking like you’re conspiring about something.” 

And before Ruth or Robby could so gracefully handle the conversation, Abe had spun around and blurted out the source of all of their problems henceforth.  “That’s because we are!” Abe exclaimed. 

“You are?” Pappy questioned, gaze narrowing. 

“Yeah, I found these two kissing!  They’re in love and trying to get me to cover for them!” Abe blurted. 

Ruth couldn’t help the fact that her jaw simply dropped as she and Robert Rosenthal stared at one another.  This was hell, they were officially in hell. And there was no going back from that particular statement, however false it was. 

“I—what?” Pappy asked, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, we’re in love,” Rosie just looked like he was going to be sick. 

“Uh huh,” Ruth agreed blankly, unable to form a single thought process in her head. 

Abe leaned forward, a grin on his face.  “Oh you two are the best, thanks for covering for me.  I owe you one!” 

[queenmarytudor]

Mary I's Fight For The Throne

18th August - Mary makes her first Royal proclamation

Following Mary's jubilant entry into London, fights instantly break out between the mixed population of Catholics and Protestants. A priest who performs Mass has his chalice and vestments stolen, and "two or three hundred people assembled and made such riot that the mayor had been obliged to go in person to quell the tumult." 1 while on the 15th a "defamatory leaflet was scattered about the streets of the town:

"Noblemen and gentlemen favouring the word of God, take counsel together and join with all your power and your following! Withdraw yourselves from our virtuous Lady, Queen Mary, because Rochester, Walgrave, Inglefield, Weston and Hastings, hardened and detestable papists all, follow the opinions of the said Queen. Fear not, and God will prosper and help our holy design and intent; be assured that they have no great strength now, except two archpapists, Derby and Stourton; Arundel might be mentioned as the third, with the renegades (Sir Edmund) Peckham and (Sir William) Drury, chamberlain, who have no great power. As to the other personages in the country, of whatever condition they may be, they will assuredly prove tractable and conform to our belief, as we have seen by experience during the last seven years. But Winchester, the great devil, must be exorcised and exterminated with his disciples named above, before he can poison the people and wax strong in his religion. Draw near to the Gospels, and your guardian shall be the crown of glory!" 2

Hearing of this, and after already giving the Mayor and alderman of London "a writing to act and provide accordingly, and let it be known in the proper quarter, without making any solemn proclamation", Mary decides she must make an official statement. 3

On the 18th of August Mary makes her first royal proclamation regarding religion:

Her Grace, considering the great troubles and dangers that were brought forth in the past by the diversity of opinions and questioning about religion within the kingdom, and having learnt moreover that since her accession to the throne contentions have sprung up afresh owing to certain rumours and false reports circulated by wicked persons disposed to evil doing, has determined to make her resolve known to her faithful subjects, as follows:

First, her Majesty, being now in possession of her Imperial crown and estate pertaining to it, cannot forsake that faith that the whole world knows her to have followed and practised since her birth; she desires rather, by God's grace, to preserve it until the day of her death; and she desires greatly that her subjects may come to embrace the same faith quietly and with charity, whereby she shall receive great happiness. She makes known to her beloved subjects that out of her goodness and clemency she does not desire to compel anyone to do so for the present, or until by common consent a new determination shall be come to; but she forbids all and sundry of her loving subjects, of every age and condition, under the penalty of the law to stir up tumult or sedition among her people, on the pretext of upholding certain laws of the kingdom made according to the fantasies of men; but rather commands them to live quietly until fresh ordinances be made, because her Majesty desires, and strictly orders and commands, that all shall live in peace and Christian charity. Words of recent introduction, bandied as insults, such as “papist,” “heretic” and so forth, shall be dropped; and all men, by possessing their souls in the fear of God, and by a rightous life and holy deeds, shall truly show their desire to glorify God and His Word, as they profess in their reasonings and disputations to desire it. By these practices, and by honouring God, men shall live without fear and the tranquillity of the kingdom shall be maintained, whence her Grace shall derive great joy and contentment. But if any were to presume to hold conventicles in public or in private, and sow dissension among the people, her Majesty makes it known that she would do her duty in reforming their ways and punishing those who should be guilty of going against her laws.

Moreover, as we see that false rumours and reports are nourished and maintained by certain evilly-disposed persons who take upon themselves, without sufficient authority, to preach and interpret the word of God according to their own mind, in churches and elsewhere, publicly and privately, and by representations, by false printed books of recent composition, in rhymes, ballads and other foolish and unreasonable ways attack the ministers of God and the articles of the Christian religion which they have recently brought into controversy, which books, rhymes and treatises are given out by the printers and booksellers with evil zeal to sell them and make their profit, or rather with greed of unjust gain; her Majesty commands and strictly charges every one of her subjects, of whatever age and condition, that no one shall henceforth, under pretext of sermons or lessons, either in church, publicly or privately, interpret the Scriptures, or teach anything pertaining to religion, except it be in the schools of the university. Neither shall they print any book, treatise, dialogue, rhyme, ballad, comedy or argument except by special, written command of her Majesty, under pain of her displeasure.

Her Majesty strictly commands all and sundry that no one among her subjects shall presume by his own act to punish or rise against those who may go against the law, or against any who may have taken part by word or deed in the past rebellion made by the Duke of Northumberland and his accomplices; neither shall they take their goods nor offend them in their persons by violence or imprisonment or similar acts; but they shall refer them to her Majesty or her officers, so that they may be punished according to the law. Her Majesty does not wish to discourage any man from denouncing or giving information concerning those who may be guilty of the above-named offences against her own person or the members of her Privy Council, so that they may be punished as the law ordains.

Her Majesty enjoins upon all her subjects the observance of the said commands, and decrees that they shall everywhere bend to her will without reserve, and thus avoid her displeasure and the rigour of her wrath, giving her no cause for sorrow; being determined to leave no deed unpunished that may be committed rebelliously against the law, so that there may follow no troubles or disorders, but the laws be carried out to the letter.

Her Majesty hopes that her loving subjects will conduct themselves befittingly; and, in fine, she commands and strictly enjoins upon her mayors, sheriffs, justices, bailiffs, constables and other officers and public administrators to use all diligence in the observance and execution of her will and commands, and to see to it that they who shall wilfully break them be sent to the nearest public prison and kept there until notice be given to her Majesty or her Privy Council of their names and the fault imputed to them, together with their replies on examination; after which they shall receive their punishment according to the law, as an example to the rest. 4

On the same day, at Westminster Hall, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland is found guilty of treason. After being released following Mary's entry into London, the "Duke of Norfolk, sitting under the cloth of estate, gave judgement". 5

The execution is planned for the 21st, however it is delayed a day once Northumberland recants Protestantism. He "received the holy sacrament, heard mass devoutly and performed all the customary acts of devotion according to the ancient religion, declaring loudly before those who were in the Tower that since he had forsaken God and the Church to follow the new religion he had done no good, and his actions had been unfortunate. He confessed publicly that he had continued in error for three or four years, and went so far as to approve the authority of the Roman Church, using words that avowed the said authority, as we have been told. He did not merely declare what is said above in the Tower, but repeated the same words on the scaffold, loudly, before the people. He recommended them to obey the Queen, whom he called good and virtuous, saying that she had attained the throne miraculously, by reason of her true right by inheritance, and that therein he acknowledged the hand of God." 6

On the 22nd of August "the Duke of Northumberland and Sir John Gates, late Captain of the Guard, and Sir Thomas Palmer, knights, were all three beheaded on the Tower hill, between 8 and 9 of the clock in the forenoon, and after their bodies and heads were carried into the Tower again." 7

Sources:

1. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

2. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

3. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

4. Spanish State Papers, 16th August 1553

5. Wriothesley's Chronicle

6. Spanish State Papers, 27th August 1553

7. Wriothesley's Chronicle

[huariqueje]

Citizen insurgency and role of Andean women 2023-02-03 

By Linda Lema Tucker .  sociologist

Women are being protagonists of this great story that is yet to be written: the protests of the citizen insurgency. These days, in Lima, great days of democratic struggle are taking place, in which hundreds of women, from the most infinite corners of Peru, with loud and forceful voices, demand the resignation of Dina Boluarte, the closure of Congress and Constituent Assembly.  

They left behind their children, the harvest, the cattle. They have broken the private sphere and have joined political affairs, to propose solutions to old problems that are still unresolved. They have faith that a new dawn in Peru is about to arrive. In protests they are distinguished by their colorful and bright skirts, their woven llicllas that they carry on their backs and shoulders, and their wonderful Aymara or Quechua language. They are not willing to return to their towns until Dina resigns, because her resignation is to fulfill that promise they made to the sixty murdered Peruvians, who would fight until the end, until this dictatorial regime abdicates. They carry in their memory and are the inspiration of their struggles, the story of brave Quechua and Aymara heroines, who preceded them as inspiration. They also know that this is a new time, in which the collective force has to overcome the old that has to lay the foundations for a rebirth of a new state, in which forgotten sectors of the country participate in power in a constitution of a new republic.

Women, the streets and the new leaderships These days, with great intensity and force, women march through the streets of Lima, launch harangues, sing and dance huaynitos, demanding the resignation of "la Dina", as they usually call her. We have walked blocks and blocks with them, until the police surprised us and repressed us with tear gas. The gas suffocated, when I saw that, in their saddlebags, they carried handkerchiefs and vinegar to avoid burning in the respiratory tract. We continued marching and he heard the loudest proclamation, "Dina, murderer, the people repudiate you." Until arriving at Plaza Dos de Mayo, where a commission of women waits for the compañeras to get sandwiches and drinks. That solidarity surprises me. But it is striking to see new women leaders, Quechua and Aymara, who, with braids, flip flops and a Peruvian flag tied around their necks, continue to harangue with surprising force, offer interviews and express their feelings and opinions about the meaning of the struggle. of their communities and towns. They do not stop demanding Boluarte's resignation, saying: “She ordered our children and brothers to be killed and has not asked for forgiveness. She is a ruthless woman, who is militarizing our towns to continue killing us." This energetic political possession with which women speak is an expression that something important is happening in deep Peru.

They continue to protest in the central streets of Lima, in addition, they have done so in districts called exclusive, San Isidro and Miraflores, where, before, some "gentlemen" believed they belonged to them. Let us remember that, not long ago, Andean women were kicked out of Larcomar in rejection of their ways of dressing and customs of a country that, paradoxically, has a multiethnic and multicultural origin. In addition, for many years, the program La Paisana Jacinta was broadcast on television, which constituted an insult and a racist attack on the dignity of indigenous peasant women.

That is why, the insurgency that is developing now against this regime, is marked by the historical accumulation of so many abuses, discriminations and violence against the majority of the population that has an indigenous origin, therefore, the necessary democratic change must come from the original peoples in order to eliminate so much pain and establish a different destiny for millions of Peruvians.

Fighters tied to history  Throughout these days, we have observed that women are united by history, that history that feminist women are now writing and that is being repeated today, by Andean women, university students, workers, housewives, and feminists, who they have joined the historic struggle in the streets, in the relief brigades, in the alternative press, in the aid of food on the highways, the women with multicolored skirts, flip flops and huaraca in hand, confront the police – like we have seen in the networks -, actions, all of women to put an end to a totalitarian regime, anti-women, as Micaela Bastidas did in Cusco, or Rita Puma Justo, in Puno, heroines who, like many others, raised their voice of protest and participated in historical episodes, against domination and gender violence, exercised by patriarchal and oppressive regimes, which considered indigenous women as an inferior race and gender.

https://www.noticiasser.pe/insurgencia-ciudadana-y-protagonismo-de-las-mujeres-andinas?fbclid=IwAR3sF6SsW1rbFRvTjfcjg6TGrVeTQ7P1uiekHjH5LohdfnxElqve66x6CJw

[spotsandsocks]

Cover art by @ronordmann it’s beautiful and I love it (and you 💕)

This Must Be Love 5.7k of fluff love and confessions.

Three days before Valentine’s Day Buck has plans to help Chris with his homework, except the evening takes an unexpected turn when Chris has some unexpected questions about love and that leads to something else unexpected.

The living room table is all set up and ready, Buck’s stash of pens, pencils and various school based items has increased ten fold over the last few years. He even has a special box for all the stuff Chris needs when he’s doing homework at his loft. Today the box is out and he’s ready, primed and even keen to get some homework done. 

It’s ironic reallly homework was never his thing, Maddie always had to drag him through it. Buck’s lucky Chris is still relatively motivated to do his. He’s double checked the equipment all laid out twice when there’s a knock on his door. Right on time.

An enthusiastic pull at his front door reveals his two favourite people and he greets them with a smile.

“Gentlemen, Buck’s House of Homework awaits you.”

“Buck.” Chris sounds exasperated and rolls his eyes as he walks past heading straight for the table but there’s a glimpse of a smile for him despite the welcome.  Behind his son Eddie’s own eyes roll, his face a picture of parental patience worn thin.

Buck wonders if either of them know how similar they look when they do that. Eddie mouths “bad mood” and shakes his head to accompany a shrug that declares he has no idea what’s wrong with the boy in front of him.

With a slight sigh no doubt at the teenage-ness of it all  Eddie walks over to Chris to say goodbye.

“Ok I’m going. I will be back in a couple of hours and then if you have done your homework.” He ruffles Chris' hair and gets an annoyed jerk of protest as Chris moves his head away in an attempt to dislodge his dad’s hand. 

That makes Eddie roll his eyes again but while Buck sniggers softly he does feel sorry for his friend , it’s tough adjusting to an almost teenager. Giving up on his son Eddie looks at Buck to continue “and if you haven’t eaten too many snacks” Buck throws him an outraged look at the suggestion. “ I will treat us all to pizza.”

“I can cook us something.” Buck offers quickly because he loves cooking for them, it makes him feel like they’re a family. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie get a soft look on his face as he closes the gap between them and once close enough his hand lifts and then it’s gently holding onto Buck’s arm. It lands just at the edge of his T-shirt sleeve so Eddie’s palm is half on his skin. Buck tries hard not to notice how warm and strong his hand feels.

 “You don’t have to.” 

“I know but I like to, cooking’s fun but  usually I can’t be bothered if it's just me so…’” He finishes on a hopeful note.

“Ok, if you’re sure then a home cooked meal with my boys sounds perfect.” The smile on Eddie’s face widens.

Buck looks at him in admiration. God he looks so happy, so much lighter than he has for all the years Buck’s known him. He’s so proud of Eddie, of how far he’s come. The smile on his own face is instinctive, mirroring the one he’s receiving, while at the same time he tries to damp down on all the feelings the words ‘home’ and ‘my boys’ stir in his chest. 

Instead of dwelling on all that he pushes Eddie towards the door, “Now go. Go do your things. We’ll be right here.”

Eddie does as he’s told but turns to look at him from the doorway. He pauses, so Buck has the full weight of his warm brown eyes on him for a handful of heartbeats. Just enough time for him to tell himself to stop it; stop reacting, stop hoping, stop wanting. He doesn’t think stop loving. He knows he can’t, he’s tried.

That look gets him every time. You’d think he’d be used to them by now. Eddie doesn’t mean anything by it. He can’t possibly. He shouldn’t let those big brown eyes do anything to him, least of all get his hopes up.

Eddie’s eyes slip from Buck to Chris and then back again, “Be good, both of you. Especially you.” That last bit is accompanied by a quick wink in Buck’s direction that spikes his heart rate instantly. 

Then he’s gone and Buck left staring at the door, he turns, a huge sigh slipping out unheeded and finds Chris sat at his kitchen table staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You ok bud?”

Chris goes “humph”, a noise Buck’s never heard from him before. Looks like Eddie’s right and Chris is in a mood. He decides to ignore it and goes to the fridge to get some drinks for them. If he glances over at his almost teenage companion a few times, just to check which way the wind is blowing mood wise, at least he’s subtle about it.

He takes one final glance over the rim of his juice then risks it.

“You good Chris?” 

“Fine.” 

Not entirely convincing. He pushes his luck a little further. “You sure?”

This time Chris sighs and dramatically drops his pen on the table.

“Buck?” The boy's eyes are fixed on the table. There’s a weighty pause then Chris looks up, right at him and says,

“What’s it like being in love?”

Unfortunately for him, he’d just taken a mouthful of juice so the question reduces Buck to a coughing and spluttering mess.

That came completely out of left field. At least he hopes it did. Shit. What if Chris has worked it out. What if Chris has noticed how he feels about his dad and worse what if he tells Eddie and what if they both end up hating him for it. What if he loses them, what if, what if, what if….

Chris is looking at him, he has to get it together. Grabbing a cloth to wipe at his face and dab the stains from his top Buck says, “Um.”

Which is marvelously articulate and not at all suspicious. So he tries again and this time manages something a little more like an actual sentence.

“So I’m…um  why why um… why would you think I know that?”

Chris looks at him like he’s stupid. “Uh cos you're old, and haven’t you been in love like loads of times?” 

Oh thank god, his heart rate crashes back to normal. That’s ok then. He can handle that.

He crosses the room to sit with Chris.

“No, not really, definitely not lots of times anyway.” 

Counting backwards from Eddie he thinks maybe three, is that too many or not enough for a man his age. It’s nowhere near his other number, that one has never had a lot to do with love but that’s hardly something to be discussing with Christopher.

Christopher’s question is tricky but he tries to be helpful. “And I think love feels different each time and different for different people, so really it’s difficult to explain.” 

Chris looks extremely unimpressed by this piece of news.

“That’s not helpful. How am I supposed to know then!?”

Buck chuckles at the plaintive question but Chris has a point.

“It’s tricky. Sorry bud, no easy answers.” He waits a few seconds. “So am I allowed to ask why you want to know, might help me be more specific?”

Chris looks away, confirming Buck’s suspicions so he keeps his voice gentle, “Maybe you like someone? Or maybe you think you do?”

Chris’s eyes dart back to his then down. His voice is quiet.

“Maybe.”

“Is this about Valentines?”  It’s the 14th in three days. 

Chris’ nod is so small it would be easy to miss.

“You thinking about maybe giving someone a card?” Buck’s tries to keep the ‘aw that’s adorable’ look off his face but Chris’ little face screws up, and damn it, he’s still so cute although Buck would never dare say that these days. 

Eventually Christopher reluctantly commits to another “Maybe.”

After a second failed attempt to catch his eye Buck says “You don’t have to sign it you know.”

This time Chris sighs and says with a hit of irritation “I know that!” Buck waits. “but I don’t even know if I like them or if I like them. It’s so confusing!”

Oh. Buck can identify with that. His mouth twists into a small sympathetic smile.

“Yup, it certainly is.”

“Even for grown ups?” Chris sounds horrified.

“Absolutely!” 

To be honest he's pretty sure it never actually gets any easier or if it does he’s still waiting for it to happen.

“So how am I supposed to know if you guys can’t even tell! It’s impossible!!”

Chris sounds quite emotional and Buck doesn’t exactly panic but he doesn’t want to do  the wrong thing either. 

“Maybe we should wait for your dad? You, you should probably talk to him about this. Not me.”

Chris pulls another one of  those ‘are you stupid faces’.

“Why not? I wanna talk to you. You’re like my second dad anyway.”

Buck’s heart stops. 

“Chris…” his own voice is breathless and barely audible even in the silence of his loft.

The boy before him has no idea he’s said anything remarkable, he looks up, confused at the change of his tone. “What? That’s what dad says. He says it all the time.”

Buck's brain is struggling to keep up. He’s rather stunned by Chris' casual comments. He has to swallow before he can ask,

“H he does?”

“Yup” Chris doesn’t even look up this time just does his next math problem like he hasn’t rocked Buck’s entire world.

“He’s always telling people about you, my teacher, the neighbours. He even told my dentist about you last week, when she was going on about enamel. Dad said “Buck already told him that but who listens to their dad!” Chris says it in an pretty good impression of Eddie, then mutters to himself “embarrassing! I listen, just don’t wanna brush sometimes.”

Buck blinks rapidly. Had Eddie really said that? About him?

“Anyway,” Chris carries on oblivious to his inner turmoil “tell me what it’s like being in love.”

“Um” he wants to say it’s like this, your heart going crazy because you think for just a second they might love you back. 

It’s wanting to be part of someone’s life so badly your whole body aches with it,  that you want to belong to them and have them choose you back. 

It’s a voice you turn to with a smile already on your face because you know the face you’ll see will be your favourite one.

It’s brown eyes, that see all of you and smile.

He doesn’t say any of that. How could he, so he stalls until he can find words better suited to a young man with questions about his heart.

Proud his voice sounds so normal Buck buys himself time.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” 

Chris looks at him suspiciously but Buck grabs some card and pens and waves them enthusiastically.

“Why don’t you make a Valentine’s card and we can talk about it. Then at the end if you decide you like them like that , you’ll have something to give them.

Chris eyes narrow thoughtfully, “Ok, it’s not a terrible idea but you have to make one too.”

He laughs, it’s either that or sigh, “ I haven’t got anyone to give one to.”

Chris gives him a look he doesn’t quite understand and mutters something under his breath again, this time Buck only catches a few words but “could” and “tried” are clear enough.

“What was that?” He studies his companion with a slight frown, he’s feeling a little confused by surly pre teen Chris, his sympathy for Eddie is increasing dramatically by the minute.

“Nothing, but I’m only making one if you do.”

It’s not worth arguing so he gives in , “Ok, if you insist.” 

He has no idea what he’ll do with his card but if it helps Chris work through some stuff he’s all for it. 

“Let’s finish your homework then we can get creative.”

Read the rest on AO3

[isadomna]

The Fall of Anne Boleyn

On the day of Katherine of Aragon's funeral, Anne Boleyn miscarried a son. Henry VIII was so disappointed that he started entertaining doubts as to the validity of his marriage to her. At this time, Henry had a new love interest in the person of Jane Seymour, one of Anne’s maids of honour. Many believed that with Katherine’s death the King could easily discard Anne and remarry without controversy. The main goal of the conservatives was to see Henry VIII annulling his marriage to Anne, send her away from court in disgrace, returning to the Catholic Church and reinstating his elder daughter Mary to the line of succession. The conservative party of the court was unaware of what was about to happen.

Around the beginning of 1536, Thomas Cromwell was told a story. In the French king’s court, he was informed, rumours about Anne Boleyn’s sexual fidelity were flying: letters had been obtained in which she was accused of adultery. This story reached England by means of Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, who had been Henry VIII’s resident ambassador at the French court since the previous September. Henry VIII was furious, but, as ever, well able to dissemble his rage, and a discreet investigation was ordered. Of course, he could not publicly announce that he doubted his wife after he had rearranged the religious and political framework of Europe in order to marry her. Even while her behaviour was under investigation he continued to push for European recognition of his annulment and remarriage, and for Anne’s status as Queen of England. Politics was ever thus. The source for the January investigation into Anne’s fidelity is Alexander Ales, a Scottish theologian who was in London around this time. He later recounted these events in a letter to Anne Boleyn’s daughter Elizabeth I in September 1559.

Thomas Cromwell soon began interrogating Anne’s ladies-in-waiting, hoping to build a case against the Queen. Anne Boleyn must have been aware that Francis I of France was spreading unfavourable reports about her in his country. In March 1536, for instance, he revealed to the papal nuncio that Anne—“that woman”, as he coldly referred to her—was not really with child but pretended to have miscarried a son. Anne’s marriage was declared unlawful and invalid – after three years of Henry’s supporters arguing the opposite – due to his affinity with Anne’s sister. The ploy Henry had used to annul his marriage with Katherine was at once resurrected to ensure that Anne did not die a queen.

Accused of adultery with several gentlemen, incest with her brother George, plotting the King's death, and also reputed to have ensnared Henry VIII with witchcraft, Anne Boleyn was condemned to death and beheaded. The terrible fate that had haunted Katherine of Aragon, the execution of a queen on the order of her once loving husband, had come to pass. Katherine had narrowly avoided it, but the full force of Henry’s wrath descended upon the head of her rival.

The imperial ambassador Chapuys, a skilled lawyer himself, was shocked that Anne and her alleged lovers “were sentenced on mere presumption or on very slight grounds, without legal proof or valid confession”. Anne protested her innocence and said that no one could bring witnesses against her misconduct because she was not guilty. Only Mark Smeaton confessed to have had three sexual encounters with Anne, but he may have been tortured; historical sources are not unanimous on this issue. Thomas Cromwell later told Chapuys that the King ordered him to get rid of his Queen. Henry VIII’s “peculiar remorse for the wrong he had done Anne Boleyn by putting her to death on a false accusation” expressed on his deathbed and recorded by the contemporary Franciscan French monk André Thevet, who resided in England at that time, confirm his words.

The day after Anne Boleyn’s execution, the French ambassador rushed to Henry VIII’s private chambers to propose a new marriage treaty. Francis I desired Henry VIII to marry his own daughter, the sixteen-year-old Madame Madeleine. Henry protested, he would not marry Madame Madeleine because she was “too young for him”, and besides, he already had “too much experience of French bringing up and manners”, alluding to the late Anne Boleyn. He also added that he preferred to marry an Englishwoman because he could punish her if she misbehaved.

Sources:

Sylvia Barbara Soberton, Golden Age Ladies: Women Who Shaped the Courts of Henry VIII and Francis I

Nicola Clark, THE WAITING GAME: THE UNTOLD STORY OF THE WOMEN WHO SERVED THE TUDOR QUEENS

[vintagepresley]

Reader trips and falls into the arms of austin but she also makes him fall to the floor. Now she is laying on top on him in the floor with him holding her from trying to catch her and it turns into a make out session

Thanks for the request!! ❤️❤️

Austin had invited you over to his place for a cute movie date, it was your first date together and you actually loved that it was going to be a bit more private, so he wouldn't be hounded by paparazzi. You had arrived at his place dressed in some high-waisted jeans with a crop top. You were a bit nervous even though you weren't expecting anything to happen tonight besides maybe a kiss. He was always such a gentlemen and you were fine with the night just ending with a kiss. You exhaled sharply as you stood at his front door and then you knocked gently on the door and seconds later he came opening the door with a big smile on his at the sight of you. He looked handsome as always in his jeans and t-shirt. You couldn't help but smile at him. "Right on time and you look beautiful." he said softly, gesturing for you to come in as he step aside. You blushed at his words. "Thank you. You don't look bad yourself." you said with a smirk.

You walked into his house, looking around with a smile on your face, this was the first time you saw his house and it definitely was very him and you saw the little romantic setup he had for the two of you in the living room and you turned to face him as he was shutting the door closed. "Well, this was quite romantic." you said softly with a smile. He chuckled. "I figured I'd go all out since we couldn't go someplace." he beamed. "I love it." you said happily, watching him grab a few things from the kitchen. "Did you need any help?" you asked curiously. "No, I got it. You just relax." he said. You glanced around his house, you were a bit nervous but you always felt that way around him but it was even worse now because you couldn't sit still let alone sit down. Seeing how much effort he put into everything for you only made you have an even bigger crush on me. Once he was finished with what he was doing in the kitchen he came back out with a smile as he had two glasses of wine in his hands and as you went over to take a seat you must of been so nervous that you didn't misstep and trip over one of the legs of his coffee table, you let out a quiet yelp.

Before you could even balance yourself or even try to land on the couch you fell forward and when he realized you were going to fall face first onto the floor, he unfortunately dropped the two glasses of wine to try to catch you but doing so only ended up with him falling back and hitting the floor to break your fall as you landed right on top of him, his arms wrapped around you as the two of you let out soft groans, the glasses of wine crashing onto his carpeted floors, the glass shattering into bits. You felt so embarrassed that your face went flush immediately. "I-I.. I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy... The wine... I.." you murmured. He shook his head in protest. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad I was here to break your fall, that could've ended badly and this date would've been spent in the hospital." He laughed. You couldn't help but laugh along with him.

Then silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you stared at each other, this was the closest you two had ever been and you noticed that his arms were still wrapped around you, which made you smile. The two of you could've been gotten up off the floor by now, but for some reason it seemed as if neither of you wanted to, his arms were still wrapped around you. Now you were staring into each other's eyes, your faces gradually moving closer and closer until your lips met and his arms tightened around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could as the two of you kissed each other quite hungrily, your lips locked on to his as your hands grasped lightly at his shirt. His lips were soft as they devoured yours and you felt as if you could melt right there into his arms. You let out a soft noise against his lips. As you two kissed it became more and more passionate as he deepened his kiss, gliding his tongue across your gentle lips and slightly parting them as his slipped his tongue inside your mouth.

You welcomed it happily, sucking on his tongue slowly and then intertwining your own with his, the kiss becoming sloppy and wet. His hands moved over your waist and sneakily over your ass, grasping it firmly in his hands and you let out a very quiet moan into his mouth, he squeezed and rubbed your ass before gliding his hands over the rest of your curves. Your body moved against his as the two of you engaged in a sloppily almost animalistic make out session, as your saliva swapped back and forth and he pulled back for a moment to nip playfully at his bottom lip, crashing your lips against his forcefully as your bodies began to move against one another, things began to heat up something fierce that you were dry humping each other and moaning into each other's mouths. You weren't even having sex but this felt like absolute heaven to you.

You grasped onto him tight, and he held you closer. Your bodies practically becoming one. His hands clutching onto your shirt for dear life as his tongued explored your beautiful mouth. Any lipstick you were wearing was now smeared all over his lips and yours, your mouths a mess in the best possible way. You almost forgot that you guys were on a date, but neither of you cared and it seemed that the date was going to be spent on the floor with you two making out the entire time. You couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop and neither did Austin. Your tongue pressing firmly against his bottom lip and your teeth scraping against it before they clamped down and you tugged playfully, and he hissed softly at the feeling and you giggled softly as you released his bottom lip from your teeth which caused his lip to bleed a tiny and you licked it clean and he raised an eyebrow with a smirk, kissing you passionately and now the two of you were writhing around on the floor, nearly rolling into the wine stained carpet as you held each other in your embraces and kissed with such sexual desire that was once suppose to be an sweet date night, turned into most sexually arousing make out session.

**

Sorry this took so long, I honestly rewrote it a few times bc I was unsure of where I wanted it to take place. 😭 But I hope you enjoy!!

[fl3shm4id3n]

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖕𝖑𝖊, 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖙

Part 3 of Rebellious Child and Stolen Throne, Shame of the family

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭  𝐲𝐨𝐮  𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Targ!cest, Mentions of intimacy, drinking, reader wants to get down and dirty but gets rejected, some angst with fluff.

You were getting married, at this you didn’t really care at this point, whether you got married or died of consuming so much ale. Honestly you were happy that it was your brother Aemond, you were happy at least, shit they could of married you to Aegon but you didn’t mind at all.

The ceremony was in the way of old Valyria, your lip and palm still burned from the cut and the copper taste was still in your lip. The gown felt kind of heavy but you didn’t mind, at least it was comfortable. The feast was going well, you had danced with your now husband then just danced with whoever, you also partook in a drinking game with Aegon, you were celebrating and why not drink until were about to burst. 

At the same time you wanted to be intoxicated when it came time for when Aemond had to perform his husband duty. You heard that it’ll hurt and alcohol was the best way to take away the pain. You drank and drank until you had to be carried to the bed chambers. You were left alone, just you and Aemond.

“Alright, lets get this over with” you said as you then began to remove the gown. Then you felt a pair of hands stop you “No, I will not force you into doing this” he said as you then grabbed him and pulled him to lay on the bed, straddling his lap. “I must perform my wifely duty, like how Alicent said I must perform” you said as you then tried  to pull off his clothes. He then stopped you “no, Y/n, I understand but you are under the influence.” He said as he then laid you down on the bed.

Suddenly, you began crying, tears and snot running down your face. “I don’t get it, I am to perform my duty and....and now, you refuse me!? I thought men liked women who threw themselves at them!” you cried harder. Aemond pulled you into a hug, letting you cry onto his clothes, he stroked your short hair trying to calm you down. 

“I know what's its like, not having anyone’s attention until they need use of you” he said as he wiped your tears with a handkerchief as well as your nose. You stopped crying after a while, since you didn’t perform your duty, you made your cut bleed and smeared some blood on the sheets.

You both sat on the couch and watch the fire burn in the fire place. Who would of thought your brother would be your husband? He such a gentlemen, you always thought he was handsome, and now he was all yours. “I would like you to stop going out” he said causing to look at him. “Why?! Going out is fun! I love going to that Tavern!-” before you could continue to protest he stopped you. “What I wanted to say is, I’d like to accompany you when you do, I will not have my wife be out by herself” he said as he kissed your cheek making you giggle. “Alright Alright, have it your way, but if Aegon comes with, I would not want you to go and fuck some lady in a brothel” you said looking at your husband. “I could never” he said as you then dozed off in his arms.

A couple days had passed and you had stopped drinking so much, you only drank when you and your husband went out to the tavern. You began to feel a lot happier around Aemond, you didn’t feel as if you had to drink to be happy, he made you want to live more than ever.

You had also grown found of books, before you didn’t like them due to the lack of pictures but now that your husband had introduced you to literature. The more you read the more you fell in love with them, you had fallen in love with romantic literature. You came across a story called Sita and Rama, the story would touch your heart every time you read it, it also made you cry a bit. When Aemond found out about this story, he began to read it to you before you went to bed. 

Aemond would also help you cut your hair once it would get longer, he learned o how to cut it and style it too. He also knew that the color black was associated with Rhaenyra but the color really suited you, along with red. He honestly wished that Aegon had left and he be put on the throne to make you his Queen but one could only hope. 

The next morning arrived and it turned out that Aemond had gone somewhere and hasn’t return. Meanwhile, you were getting dressed, today you wore a black and red dress with gold like cuffs on both arms. A pair of gold earrings with rubies and a gold necklace with rubies. You had always liked wearing red and black, the color green always looked ugly on you, specially what it meant to wear green. You were no Hightower, you were a Targaryen.

That day Aemond had been busy, he was also gone majority of the day, you had no idea what he was up too. You were with your sister and her children, she had been mumbling something about a fire and blood. You never really understood her but when she spoke those strange words they’d often some true. How she had said that Aemond would have to close an eye to gain a dragon, then he lost his eye when he claimed Vhagar.

Since then, you had been thinking of those words, Fire and Blood, it also made you think about how your family had stolen a claim that was never theirs to begin with. Growing up Alicent had said things to get you to be against Rhaenyra and her children, she always had ill intentions towards the princess. It was not only hers but Otto as well, he was responsible for brainwashing the Queen into having some kind of paranoia, making her think that once Rhaenyra was Queen, then her along with her family will be executed. 

Otto and Alicent can drown in their greed and ambition for all you care. You never really had goals or ambitions, all you cared was to be left alone and drink the most rarest of wines and ales. What else could be expected since your family had no use of you until now, sometimes you’d think that you should just leave to Dragonstone to support Rhaenyra. 

“Husband? What do you  have back there?” you asked as you the smiled since Aemond had a grin on his face as he walked in your bed chamber’s. “Just a gift, close  your eyes” he said as you then closed your eyes like he asked. You heard his footsteps come closer. Then you felt something be placed on your head “open your eyes love” he said as you opened your eyes then saw a crown. But not just any crown, this one belonged to the Conqueror Queen Visenya. “Where did you get this?” you asked as  you looked at yourself in the mirror, the crown fitted you perfectly, it made you look beautiful. “I found it in the treasure quarter's , I thought it would suit you, my Queen” that name, It felt so wrong being called that but good. “I’m no Queen, I’ll never be a Queen Aemond” you said as you then took off the crown but Aemond took it from you and placed it back on your head. “You are a Queen, you’re my Queen” He said as he leaned down and kissed your exposed neck.

He then noticed the the look on his wife’s face. “My love? What is wrong?” he asked as you sigh, then responded “It’s just that... is this the right thing? Alicen- no, we had stolen the birthright of our sister” you said sounding worried. Aemond took a deep breath, then lead you to sit on the bed next to him. “Mother said is what father wanted, it was his last words” he said as you rolled your eyes. “He said, he said. Aemond, he was always in the clouds due to the milk of the poppy, no one knows for sure if those where his words. Besides, if he wanted Aegon to be his heir then he would of made him heir, even in his condition he would of done it” you said.

His expression changed, he looked unhappy “Mother isn’t a liar” he said as you scoffed and laughed at this “oh really, she would say anything to drag Rhaenyra’s name under the mud and shit just to prove that she is right.” You said now a bit frustrated. “So, you wouldn’t support your family? You would side with the blacks?” he asked, now he was mad but you did not care. “I will take the side that is right, if that means having to side with the black then so be it! I do not want a war to happen, and all because that cock sucker of Otto Hightower’s greed to rule the Seven Kingdoms!” you yelled. Then your husband looked at you one last time before leaving the room and slam the door. 

If people choose to turn a blind eye, fine, let them be guided by those who are lead by ambition. You took of the crown and placed it on the vanity, now you were upset, you had fought with Aemond. You hated fighting with those who cared for you. You felt guilty, you wanted to go out and find him but you just wanted to be left alone and think.

You went to put on your riding gear on and go on a ride with Bloodfyre, you haven’t been in the sky since forever, and your dragon had gone nearly upset for not stretching his wings, but finally you had decided to go for a flight, be gone for a bit.

Hours past, and still you were out, the sky was painted a dark purple along with the stars and moon now being placed on where they should be. You had landed on a small island with Bloodfyre, you did not wish to go back just yet, you hated being in that environment filled with vouchers. Bloodfyre had made a fire for you to be kept warm but he had also wrapped you up with his tale, normally you would gone off to the Tavern but you didn’t want to be surrounded by people, just yourself and your companion. 

Right before you were about to dose off to sleep, you hard a loud roar, knowing full well who’s roar it was, Vhagar. You closed your eyes and waited to be scolded by your husband. Then you heard the footsteps from the sand. “I thought you’d be at an Inn” Aemond voice rang in your eyes, then you opened your eyes and looked at his only good eye. “I wanted to go away, away from the city, away from that terrible castle” you said as you sigh and leaned closer Bloodfyre, your companion then glared at your husband, ready to protect you from any kind of harm.

You heard movement, assuming that he had sat near the fire to get some kind of warmth in this cold night. “What are you doing here anyway? You have come to call me a traitor? A craven?” you said as you looked at your husband who was looking at the fire. “No, I could never call you those things. I’ve been thinking of what you said, and you’re right. We stolen a claim that was never ours.” He said, this shocked you. Your husband, the one who is the most loyal member of your family had said that you are right? Did that fruit that you ate earlier have something?

“Tomorrow, we’ll go to Dragonstone and give our sister the support she needs” he said, this kind of scared you. “You don’t have to, I’ll do it myself, I’ll take full responsibility of any consequences that may happen, but  you can’t do this, not you.” You said sadly “and why not?” he asked while getting closer to you, your companioned allowed him take a seat next to you. Now you were face to face. “Because you’re important, you are important to Alicent and Otto, they need you, they have no use of me, they did but we got married, they no longer need me but they need you. They need Vhagar” you said now sad, it was true, they had no use of you anymore, they could get rid of you if they wished.

“Fuck them, you are worth more than anything, without you, I would not be whole. You are my wife, my love, you are my Queen” he said as he pulled you into a hug, you could hear his heart pounding. “They may not see you but I see you” he said as he kissed your head and continue to hold you close. “I will stand with you, until the day we both die” he admitted. Then he leaned down and kissed you, you responded at his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Once the kiss was broken, your husband had laid on the sand and pulled you to lay on his chest. He stroked your hair, which made you feel sleepy, as you began to dose off you had mumbled a small I Love You, then you had heard those same words coming from you husband.

Tomorrow, you will bent the knee to the rightful heir to the Iron throne.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Blonde twink gets destroyed by the clap of Brazil's ass cheeks

Jet stream Sam:

You like Brazilian chads with dummy thicc thighs that save lives, are an avid listener to bury the light, or have probably never played any other Metal Gear game since you are an avid RaidenxSam shipper who tends to forget or not know that Raiden has a wife (to be fair Rose repeatedly manipulated him and is a terrible cook so obviously Sam is the better choice and you have good taste in husbandos).

First Date:

You were at the local strip club, your boyfriend recently having dumped you. You decided you would go get drunk and watch some hot men dance to ease your troubles. You poured down your tequila and burped. "This better be worth it!" You brought all the cash you had on you which was pathetically small since your only source of income was from working at Wal-Mart.

Suddenly bright lights were flashing in neon colors and for some reason it reminded you of your friends rgb pc setup. "Hey ladies, give it out to our first man of the night, the incredibly sexy Corrente de Jato" Next thing you knew, men and women around you were screaming like they were at a boy band concert. "I guess this guy must be really popular huh?" Soon catchy techno music was blasting and out came a rugged yet chiseled man.

"Lets dance!" He began taking off his clothes and was soon only wearing a thong, not leaving much to the imagination. His rythmn matched the beat and you had to admit that he was pretty good because he could do some wicked moves on that dance pole. The money started pouring in. "Yes, yes I like this!" the man thought. In the corner of the room a slight growl could faintly be heard. There was a lone cardboard box. Underneath of course was none of then Raiden.

"That bastard! So this is what he's been up to? Well I think it's time to make my entrance!" He slowly crept to the front of the row. "What the hell is that?" Raiden was bumping into more people than someone playing bumper cars so everyone eventually took notice and stopped paying attention to Sam. "Shit! I think I've been compromised. Alright, plan b!" He tore away the box and revealed himself.

"Raiden? Is that You? What on earth are you doing here!?" The cyborg pointed his blade at the Brazilian man. "I'm the one that should be asking you that! This sword is a tool of justice but tonight I shall prove that I'm the victor!" Samuel laughed. "By all means pretty boy, if you think this is so easy then why don't you try it yourself?" Raiden took this as a challenge and entered the spotlight. "Alright. Girls like hot guys with accents rights? I think I've got this."

He readjusted his sombrero. "Hola, putas! Se habla español." An angry woman threw her beer bottle at him. "TAKE IT OFF!" He tapped the mic. "Please bear with me ladies and gentlemen, the show will start momentarily. El elemento por favor!" He tore off his suit and smirked. "WHERE IS IT?" Raiden thought he was doing everything right. "Huh?" The crowd was getting restless. "WHERE'S HIS DICK!" Just before Raiden could protest and trauma dump to the entire audience about how the patriots removed most of his body, Sam interjected.

"Hey, why don't we get back to dancing!" The boos turned back into cheers and then Raiden noticed the difference in the crowds reactions. He decided to give dancing a shot. He may be Liberian but he is 100% white with the way he danced. "GET HIM OFF THE STAGE!" Raiden was starting to get angry. "YOU GUYS JUST DON'T APPRECIATE THE ROBOT! BESIDES, WHAT'S HE HAVE THAT I DON'T!"

In unison the drunk patrons began yelling "NO DICK! NO DICK! NO DICK! NO DICK!" The cyborg sighed. He began to feel himself losing to Jack the ripper. "Fuck this, I'll just kill Sam and go home." he thought. Raiden tore the dance pole down and began to use it like L'Etranger. He went to stab Sam but the man managed to parry him. "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?" he screamed. Unfortunately for Raiden, he was oblivious to the fact that Samuel hadn't been dancing at all but had been doing capoeira.

"SHOW ME A GOOD TIME JACK!" Everyone began to evacuate as the two men battled and the speakers began to play the only thing I know for real. The building was soon turned into rubble and the men lay there motionless, panting. "Well I'm out of a job now blondie so you better find me some work." Raiden let out a loud "GOD DAMNIIIIIIT!" and curled into the fetal position. He didn't want to deal with this shit again.

[skyyknights]

Too Much

Ao3

Too much. 

It’s all too much. 

Zelda sets her quill down atop the parchment spread on the table before her, pressing her fingertips lightly against her forehead. The overlapping chatter of dozens of council members swirls around her, making her head pound, and the room is hot and stifling. She can’t think or breathe or focus, suffocating in a time loop of endless noise and chaos. 

Something has to change. She can’t take much more of this, trapped amid handfuls of other bodies, her brain threatening to implode from all the noises in the room. She can feel her body trembling as her heart beats out of control, as loud in her ears as the voices around her. 

Zelda comes to a decision swiftly, lowering her hand from her forehead and drawing a breath to steady her nerves. “Gentlemen,” she announces after a moment, her voice barely making an impact in the deafening room. She sighs and pushes out her chair, standing and bracing her hands on the table for added emphasis. “Gentlemen.” 

The chatter dwindles abruptly as every head in the room swivels to look at the soon-to-be queen. She clears her parched throat, gaze falling to the empty glass at her seat. It was emptied long ago, and in the chaos no one thought to refill it. “I think we’ve had enough discussion for today,” Zelda says, doing her best to keep the strained fragility from her voice. “We’ll resume this meeting tomorrow.”

“But Highness–!” one council member protests. 

“Your Grace, I must beg a private audience with you–” intones another. 

“Tomorrow,” Zelda enunciates firmly, stepping away from the table. She holds up one gloved hand as a third man tries to interject. “I have some– business to attend to at the moment.” Quickly she walks towards the door before her face can give away the lie. “I will see you at tomorrow’s meeting, gentlemen.” 

The door slams shut behind her, sealing away the instant burst of chatter that erupts behind her back, and Zelda paces quickly away down the hall, lifting her skirts and breaking into a run as she sprints through the corridors. There is nobody around her now, but still the voices swirl thickly in her head, loud and insistent, hot against her skin. 

Zelda peels desperately at her gloves as she runs, tearing them off and letting them fall to the tiled floor. She slams into one of the heavy doors leading out to the courtyard and shoves it open, stumbling out into the cool evening air before collapsing in the grass, arms braced in front of her as she pants for air. Too much. It’s too much. She can’t handle the constant voices and pressure and hot rooms and disorientation–

A door opens, then falls shut, and footsteps approach her through the grass. “Princess?” a quiet voice says, and Zelda blinks, pulled momentarily from the nausea threatening to overwhelm her. Boots appear in her line of vision, brown leather caked in mud. She swallows the sour taste in her mouth and looks up, greeted by a face she knows all too well.

“Link,” Zelda says softly, blinking and taking a breath before shifting position so her legs are curled beneath her. She doesn’t have the strength to stand again, and she knows he won’t mind her not rising to greet him. “What are you doing here?” 

The hero smiles gently, crouching in front of her and holding out his hand, in which he holds a glass of water. “I figured you might need this,” he says kindly, his soft Ordonian accent punctuating his words. “I know how hot those meetings can get.” 

Zelda stares at him for a moment, lips parted, before gratefully taking the glass with shaking hands. She drains the contents quickly and lowers it, exhaling slowly. “Thank you,” she tells Link, aware of the concern in his eyes as he looks at her. “I needed that.” There’s a pause, and then she frowns slightly, looking up at him again. “How did you know?” 

“Oh.” Link looks embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and not meeting her gaze. “Well, I was, um, sitting outside the meeting room. I saw you come out.” 

“You did?” Zelda blinks, trying to recollect whether she saw him sitting there or not, but she can’t remember. The nausea hits her again, and she recoils, dropping the glass and wrapping her arms around her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles through gritted teeth, focusing on a patch of grass and trying to breathe deeply. “I’m usually fine with meetings, but today–” 

“That’s only natural,” Link is quick to reassure her, scooting closer. He lays a cautious hand on her arm. “You’re still recovering from the Twilight and all. Makes sense you’re not fully yourself.” 

“I suppose,” Zelda agrees slowly, sagging in relief as the nausea subsides. She just feels so tired, drained of all her former energy. Like she’s still trapped in the upper room of her castle, unable to do anything besides stare at the rain falling outside. She digs her fingers into the grass on either side of her and shuts her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the fading sun on her face and reminding herself that Hyrule is safe.  

Link’s hand remains on her arm, a gentle pressure that grounds her to the earth. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Princess?” 

Zelda cracks one eye, glancing over at his lightly freckled face. “You can call me Zelda, for starters,” she says in a  serious tone, but her lips twitch upwards in the beginnings of a smile. 

Link laughs, his blue eyes crinkling with mirth. “I could, but I’m not going to,” he tells her with a grin, then frowns slightly. “Do you have more meetings today?” 

Zelda shakes her head in response. “No, thankfully. Tomorrow I will, but I can’t handle any more today.” She presses a hand to her forehead, her eyes slipping shut. “I’m just…so exhausted. And all of the people and voices and details, they’re just so much, I–” 

Link’s hand rubs gently up and down her arm, and Zelda leans into his touch. “It’s okay, Princess,” Link murmurs, voice soft and reassuring. “It’s going to be all right.” He pauses, clearing his throat before continuing. “Perhaps…if it would help at all, I could attend your next meeting with you?” 

Zelda’s eyes snap open, focusing on his face, which is swiftly turning red from his previous question. “You…would be willing to do that for me?” she asks slowly, feeling warmth rise into her own cheeks at his earnest nod. “I can’t tell you how much that would mean.” 

“Anything for you, Princess,” Link tells her quietly, mouth curved upwards in a smile. “As always.” 

Zelda has never been one for impulsive actions, but she can’t resist the sweet sincerity beaming in his eyes. She leans forward and wraps her arms around him in a tight hug, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She can hear his pulse beating rapidly against his jawline as he, after a long moment of silence, gently enfolds her with his own arms, returning the hug. “Thank you, Link,” Zelda mumbles against his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze and listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “You always know just what to do.” 

She can’t see Link’s smile, but she can hear it in his voice as he tightens his hold on her. “You’re welcome…Zelda.” 

[cerealmonster15]

Valentine's Day is for the Besties [TWST]

[Ao3 Link]

Wordcount: 1,853

Summary: The Heartslabyul boys go on a picnic together.

Note: there's a specific ref to something trey says in his platinum birthday story here and it might be kind of weird w/o that context but you also don't need to have read it to read this lol / it's not any sort of lore spoilers [see ao3 for additional notes and tags!]

“BOYS!” Cater clapped his hands together from where he stood in the room’s entryway, Trey entering in from behind him.

Riddle looked up from the textbook he had been tutoring Ace and Deuce from. “Cater, you don’t need to be so loud. It’s only the three of us in here.”

Ace looked welcome to the distraction. “Yo, if it isn’t our favorite pair of juniors! What’s up?”

Cater strode his way into the room and hopped up onto the table’s edge to take a seat, kicking his feet back and forth in the air with a giddy smile. 

Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...Cater. If you're going to be so bold as to interrupt so casually like this, I assume you must have something important to say, yes?”

“Of COURSE I do!” Cater smiled innocently, while Trey offered a more apologetic smile beside him. “A very important question, actually!”

“On with it, then.”

“Do any of you…” Cater pointed at each boy in the room to punctuate every word, “...have a date for Valentine’s Day tonight?”

Riddle’s jaw dropped. Was THAT really what Cater came in to ask? He interrupted their study session for frivolous gossip!? Honestly, while Cater should know better, Riddle also could not say he was surprised by such tomfoolery, either.

Before he could complain, however, Ace immediately spoke up. “I know for a fact that Loosey-Deucey here doesn’t!”

“Hey!” Deuce protested with a scowl. “What makes you think I don’t have a date?!”

Ace crossed his arms and flashed Deuce a smug grin. “Do you?”

…

…

…

“...No.” Deuce admitted with a sigh, which only made Ace laugh obnoxiously loud. 

“Come on now, Ace. Don’t bully Deuce,” Trey chided. “After all… I seem to remember you telling one of the other dorm members how you were probably going to spend your evening tonight skulking around the Heartslabyul kitchen to mooch off desserts for people baking last minute for their dates. That doesn’t sound like the plans of a guy with a date of his own, does it?”

Ace gasped in shock at both Trey’s smug grin that matched his own from moments before, and at the sudden attack on his life. “WH- Hey! C’mon, everyone knows Valentine’s Day’s for lame suckers, anyway! Why do I need a date to worry about when I can just take it easy and do whatever I want instead?”

“Okay, so no date for Acey, either? Great!” Cater ignored Ace’s following protests and turned to Riddle. “And what about our super cute housewarden? Got any exciting plans?”

Riddle’s face went bright red and he quickly turned away from the group to avoid eye contact, pretending to busy himself out tidying the study guides strewn about the table. “I-I see no reason to distract myself with such things, that’s all…”

Ace snorted. “Your standards would probably be impossible to meet, anyway.”

Riddle’s flustered look was instantly replaced with one of annoyance. He straightened up, placed his hands on his hips, and scowled down at where Ace sat at the table. “And just what do you mean by that, Ace?!”

Ace snickered again and ducked behind Deuce. “Uh oh, I think I struck a nerve with him!”

“Quit it, Ace!” Deuce complained, trying to squirm out of Ace’s evil clutches on his shoulders.

“Shh, shh, no need to fuss, gentlemen!” Cater waved his hands dismissively and kept up his bright, peppy grin amidst the discourse in the room. “The stars have aligned, and they’re telling us we do have plans tonight - together!”

Ace paused his bickering with Riddle and Deuce to raise an eyebrow at Cater. “Huh?”

“Cater wants to go on a picnic,” Trey clarified. “We thought it might be fun to go as a group, that’s all.”

“...Well,” Riddle once again straightened his posture and pretended that he wasn’t about to break out into a full-on brawl with Ace moments ago. He cleared his throat and faced Cater with a poised, neutral expression. “You could have simply started with that, Cater.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Regardless,” Riddle continued, “I can’t say I’m opposed to the idea. I’ve never been on a picnic before, though, so I will have to look into the proper preparations.”

“I’ve never been on a picnic, either,” Deuce quietly admitted.

“Perhaps you and I should head over to the school’s library for some guide books together before we go.”

Cater and Ace made eye contact with each other and sighed in solidarity of the sheer goofy behavior their friends were exhibiting. Thank god the social skills masters were here to save their lives and prevent them from an overthinking spiral into madness.

A few hours of avoiding the library and hovering around Trey in the kitchen later, the five of them made their way to a cute little clearing that Cater had scouted out earlier that week. A prime location for taking cute pictures with your friends that you could look back on in the later years, for sure. 

“This is a pretty sweet spot you scoped out, Cater!” Ace commented as he and Cater pulled out the picnic blankets to spread for everyone to sit on. 

“It is a rather picturesque location,” Riddle agreed, standing with his arms hanging by his sides, looking unsure of what to do. The setting was much more casual than their usual unbirthday parties, and both Cater and Ace had insisted there were no rulebooks for such a situation… How was he to know how to behave without explicit directions!?

“Aw, thanks, guys!” Cater beamed. “And I just KNOW we’ll have the cutest pics for magicam. We’ve got it all! The perfect setting carefully curated by yours truly, super photogenic snacks - thanks Trey, BTW - and the smiling faces of the cutest company a guy could ask for on Valentine’s day.” 

Cater punctuated his statement with his most charming wink and blew a kiss to the group.

Riddle sighed, Deuce nearly dropped the box of truffles he was holding, and Ace let out the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise he could possibly muster.

“Alright, come on, now,” Trey laughed. “You’ll have plenty of time to drive each other crazy while you’re eating. You want it while it’s still fresh.”

“Ugh, whatever dad.” Ace rolled his eyes and sat down on the grass, promptly stealing a truffle out of the box Deuce was still holding.

“Hey!” Deuce protested, shoving Ace out of reach with his free hand.

“Boys,” Riddle scowled as Cater pulled him down to sit on the blanket between him and Trey. “Save your dessert for last, and no roughhousing! We may be outside, but you still need to mind your manners.”

“Yes, housewarden…” The two mumbled as they reluctantly pulled away from each other but still made sure to flash each other a not-so-stealthy stink-eye. 

“But before we eat,” Cater interjected, “we’ve gotta take a nice pic with all the food out and arranged so nicely! It would be a shame not to capture the hard work we put into making it all look cute, don’tcha think?”

Riddle’s stomach rumbled.

“...Y-yes, well…” Avoiding the amused stares, Riddle hurriedly gestured for Ace and Deuce to come into frame where Cater was angling his phone camera. “Let’s do it quickly, while everything is still fresh, as Trey said.”

A few more seconds and clicks of the camera shutter later, it was finally time to eat. Cater, of course, was too distracted with picking which photo to upload to Magicam to start.

“...Cater,” Trey gently nudged his elbow against Cater’s ribs. “We made those pepper poppers especially for you, you know.”

Cater squirmed away from Trey’s judgemental gaze. “I know, I know! I’ll eat some in juuust a sec- help me pick which one to upload!”

Ace leaned over Cater’s shoulder and pointed at the phone with his already half-eaten sandwich. “Oooh, what about that one? Prim and proper Housewarden’s mid-blink; that’ll get you rarity points.”

“Excuse me?!” Riddle opened his mouth to argue, but froze before he could even begin to speak. His eyes slid to the space beside Ace and locked onto something in Trey’s hand. 

A mustard bottle…

Simultaneous flashbacks spawned within the minds of all present. Every member of Heartslabyul was all too familiar with the week where Trey Clover descended into a mustard madness, trying harder every day to force his taste buds to adjust to liking, or even simply tolerating such a common condiment. It got to the point that Trey would have added mustard to his next cake, had it not been for the intervention of the collective dormmates. He’d calmed down after that, and everyone thought that was the end of it… But here they were, and there was the mustard.

“...Trey, what’cha got there?” Cater asked after a few more seconds of silence and began shifting across the picnic blanket. “I totally love spicy mustard, and it’s so sweet of you to pack it for us. Wanna hand me that bottle…?”

“Hear me out!” Trey protested, hand going for the mustard cap. “I promise I’m not going to try and squirt it all over the desserts or anything like that. We have a lot of sandwiches, and that’s a perfectly reasonable food to spread a little mustard on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, for people who actually like mustard,” Ace said, following Cater’s lead and reaching for the bottle. “Give it.”

“You don’t have to do this to yourself, Trey,” Deuce added. “But it’s honorable that you want to change yourself for the better! Maybe I should follow your example and not pick out the bell peppers from my salad…”

Riddle shook his head and put a hand on Deuce’s shoulder. “There’s no need for either of you to be so drastic.”

“You almost tried that last time, too,” Ace added. “Two weird food martyrs aren’t gonna fix anything!”

Cater’s hand was on top of Trey’s. “Trey, hon, just let go of the bottle, and it’ll all be alright.”

Trey sighed and relinquished the mustard. “It’s really not as big a deal as you’re all making it out to be. No need for another intervention, okay?”

Cater pat Trey on the back with a smile. “Right, riiiight, it’s all good now, bestie.”

“Cater.”

“Okay! Crisis averted!” Cater shuffled back across the blanket towards the sandwich platter and away from Trey’s disapproving stare. “Now someone please help me decide on a pic to upload!”

After a couple of hours filled with photo picking, snacking, laughing, and of course, lots of bickering, it was time to pack up and return to the dorm. Cater, of course, needed to stop every few minutes and take another picture of the sky as the sun sunk below the horizon. 

They arrived back at the dorm after dark, but they arrived together, having nearly forgotten the reason they’d chosen to go out on that day in particular in the first place. Heartslabyul was known for being one of the more socially extroverted dorms, after all, and for good reason.

Because in Heartslabyul, you are never truly alone.