#i am going to a wedding later so of course i had to draw Them

[bluetimeombre]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I've been knowing you ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You want everything with Pedro, but when faced with it, he laughs off the idea. Based off this request

"I want to see a ring on that finger!"

It had been meant as a joke. You, Pedro, Lux, Javiera and her sons were all around the table in the garden while the sun set orange around you. Nicolas and a few cousins and friends were around too but they were all lost in separate conversations.

You couldn't even remember how you all got to that topic- or if there even was a topic. The words just rang in your head.

So did the laughter.

Pedro's chuckle, head thrown back. You smiled along, giggled with Lux who was at your other side.

Later in the night, while drinks were being drunk and food was being ate, conversations being had when another comment was thrown. This time, by Bruno.

"We need more cousins!"

Maybe it was meant as a joke, a reference to the thirty-four first cousins Pedro and his siblings shared. But when Javiera wiggled her brows and Lux made a noise, you understood there was a serious inquisition under there.

"Oh no, no, no," said Pedro laughing, a dancing finger being waved at them. His other arm was thrown over the back of your chair as he laughed, eyes glittering. "No."

And you'd laughed, because everyone else was laughing and it was funny to think.

Quickly, it became anything but.

No. He'd laughed at the idea. Laughed at the idea of a ring or kids with his curls and your eyes.

You'd never spoken about it really, never referenced a wedding or a boy or a girl. But after three years together was it not even on his mind?

The thoughts came and went quickly and were replaced with more even quicker. The chat around the table went on. There was clinking of cutlery and glasses but there was clicking in your brain like it was all falling into place.

Pedro- who you danced in the kitchen with, walked in parks with Edgar with- didn't see those dances and walks in the future.

You had no idea hearing the words would hurt so much but they had. As if one of the steak knives had been lodged in your heart and twisted.

Pedro's arm was warm around your shoulder as he laughed at a joke his brother made. In instinct, his arm flexed around you, drawing you in as you tried to smile too. Suddenly his hold was too much.

Were you embarrassed? Was that the feeling crawling into your gut.

Here was his family, the people closest to him that you had always thought you counted as- after three years. Were you just another date to the party? A hand for a lonely soul to hold?

What was this?

Lux seemed to notice this, the small things always seeming big to her.

You felt her hand reach over to your knee, squeezing it. It stole your attention as you smiled her way, moving out of Pedro's arms and focusing on her. She accommodated you with a conversation.

But Pedro was still holding you, reaching out to you.

His arm was stretched so his hand could sprawl along your back, his fingers dancing in your skin. Any other time shivers of ecstasy would crawl your skin.

Now, you wanted him off.

Lux again squeezed your knee. "Don't think to much about it," she told you.

"About what?" you feigned ignorance but the pretending was not easy.

While everyone was busy talking, you slipped away from Lux, squeezing her shoulders and assuring her you were fine, totally fine.

Pedro saw you walk away. You hadn't said were you were going, hadn't squeezed his hand or gave him a flirtatious smile to indicate he should follow.

He was confused for a moment.

"Are you not going to ask her to marry you, Tío?" asked his nephew, Bruno.

Pedro looked back at him, a cheeky grin. "Of course I am. I'm not stupid."

He had the box, with the gold band of gems inside. He already had plans. He'd dreamt it all. He'd never shared those dreams with anyone but Lux because she would understand.

She was closer to age with you than he was and sometimes he was so scared about that fact.

He looked to Lux then but she looked at him weary, a crease in her brows.

Pedro looked back. It had been two minutes. You shouldn't be long.

Then, you were long.

Lux looked back to where you'd disappeared but Pedro was already on his feet, padding through the garden and into the house.

"Cariño?" he called out. You weren't in the kitchen. "Mi Cariño? Baby?" he looked around the house but there was not a whisper of you.

A prickle of fear nudged at him that lead him to the bathroom of his big sisters house. There was a shuffle inside-

The pull of tissue-

A sniff.

His knuckles wrapped gently.

"Sorry, just a minute."

"Baby?" he asked, "are you ok in there, huh? Need a hand?" he'd meant it as a joke, a cheeky try at getting into the bathroom with you. When he tried the door, it was locked.

"Just a second!" you called through, almost panicked.

He frowned. Had something happened?

He knew the sound of your voice after you'd cried, or when you were trying not to cry. He'd seen it before after hard days at work but he could coax your troubles out of you.

Had you not been fine down stairs? Had you not been laughing?

Fears flooded him, rendering him from pushing open the door when it swung open and you stood. Beautiful as ever, but changed.

Pedro managed to hold you. "Wo-Woah- hey, hey," he stopped you. "What's going on?"

You looked at him. Your eyes were red and your lips chapped and it was clear you were trying not to cry. "Nothing, nothing." Again you wanted to move but Pedro's hands were gentle as they lured you back into the bathroom.

"Has something happened? Where's your phone?" he wondered if something had been said, or if some news had got to you. But your phone wasn't in hand or around, it was at the table.

You shook out his hold and folded your arms over you. You weren't looking at him.

That little fear turned to stone cold dread at the bottom of his stomach. "Corazón?"

Pedro truly did not know what he had done. "You're worrying me now."

Your back was still to him as you collected yourself. He stood there, still and scared. Abruptly, you turned. It wasn't fair that you looked pretty when you cried as well as all of this. "When you look at me what do you see?"

He didn't think it was a trick question, so he spoke. "Intelligence. Beauty. Wonder. Everything I've ever wanted." He carefully stepped toward you.

"But what about what you want?" you asked, turning to him. "When I look at you I see wrinkles, and wedding anniversaries- silver, gold, all of them."

Pedro took a deep breath. He thought for a moment you'd found out about the box hiding in his coat in your room. Then he realised you hadn't. "Well, so do I.... eventually."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do, is this about my sister said?" he asked.

"It's about what you didn't say."

There was silence as Pedro realised you could walk out the door and not come back.

"Do you not see all that with me? One home instead of sharing each others apartments? I want to marry you but you don't?"

"Of course- of course I do," he walked over to you.

You let his hands warm you, hold you and sit you down on the edge of the bath tub. You felt stupid. You felt weak. You liked to be strong and to have Pedro relay on you, to be the perfect partner that never asked for anything more than love.

But if you were wasting time loving him how could you forgive yourself.

"Honey, you're young," he started with.

You looked up at him. "What?"

Pedro crouched in front of you. He cupped your hands and peppered them with kisses. "You're so young, you have more of a life ahead of you than I do."

You chuckled dryly at that. "You're fifty, not eighty, Pedro."

He smiled to, creases at his eyes. "Sometimes my knees feel it."

"Get up then."

"No, no, I-" he rested his head on where he held your hands. "I need you to listen. I always said I wouldn't go for someone younger, I thought I couldn't. Then you came around and changed my ways of course. I've wanted to marry you since our first date. But I wasn't gonna take that choice from you. I've been waiting. Waiting to ask."

He keeps his head bowed as you raise your gaze. "But I figured you loved me."

Pedro kissed your hands again. He moved and perched next to you on the edge of the tub. "It's quite a scary thing to love. I'm just handing you my heart and hoping it'll be ok," he chuckled. "And I know you would but ... would you believe it, this is the longest relationship I've had."

He'd never told you that. He'd mentioned an ex or two but never to any detail.

"And you're the last person I will ever date. The first and only I want forever. I'm ready to make a life, the whole thing."

You couldn't help but watch him like in a daze as his smile takes over his face.

"Kids. A girl and a boy, like my sister and I- more if it happens. We'd marry once we have kids so they can be at the wedding. We'd have dogs. Probably move out of the city, to the countryside, with a good school," he grinned. His head rested in the crook of your neck, voice low.

"I can't tell you the amount of times I've pictured our wedding, or our house. You and the kids visiting me on set. We'd come back to Chile every summer. They'd be close with their cousins, but their favourite aunt would probably be Lux."

You laughed, a tear sliding down your cheek. "Probably."

He laughed and kissed the space between your neck and shoulder. He pulled away eventually and looked at you. His hand, large and welcoming, held your cheek in hand, brushing back hair. "When I look at you, my love, I see the whole thing. But I was-truthly- always too scared to know if you wanted the same."

You nodded, eagerly. "I want it, Pedro. All you had to do was ask."

His grin split and his chest caved with a sigh of relief. He grabbed your hand and kissed it like you were a princess. "This wasn't exactly the place I imagined this happening."

You looked around the bath room, at the orange lights and little plant Javiera had. "As bathrooms go..." you trail off.

"Anywhere's perfect with you," said Pedro, nudging you with his head of curls.

"Sap."

"You had me worried for a second there, you know." His arm came around your hip, holding you.

You cringed, wiping at your eyes and desperately trying to salvage your makeup. "I'm sorry, ruined you seeing your family."

"Oh no, no, no Cariño," he brushed your hair from your face, leaning closer to you. "You've made me a very happy man."

Pedro kissed you, softly. A whisper of his love and devotion. It lasted until you were tugging at his shirt closer and until his hands were in your hair.

"We should-" you started against his lips. "Mhm, we should probably go before your sisters think they're getting nephews or nieces."

Pedro grinned, dragging his lips down your neck to nip at your earlobe. "Dirty," he helped you up and patted your backside. "You go down, I need to piss."

You made a disgusted noise before lingering at the door. "So everything's ok?" you checked, looking back to him. "I haven't, have I ruined this?"

His look of love was almost enough to tell you no, but you needed to hear it. "You could never. You just better say yes when I ask you to marry me!"

You left him to pee and returned to the table outside where most cousins had sat at.

Lux put a hand on your knee.

"Are you ok?" Javiera asked you when you took your seat.

Apparently Lux wasn't the only one to note his laughter at the questions.

"I'm ok," you shrug, "I'm emotional."

"You're allowed to be," Javiera assured you. "But my hermanito is not dumb."

It explained everything that needed to be.

Quickly, conversation started up again and you were laughing quietly. It had took a lot out of you, the talk and confession but still left you lighter.

You spotted Pedro walking back out, Nicolas under his arm as he patted him on the shoulder and nudged him away. You watched him, expecting a drop of a kiss on your head and for him to take the seat next to you.

Instead, Pedro dropped down in front of you again.

"Your poor knees!" you joked.

Everyone else grew louder.

Lux pulled out her phone. "Dios mío."

Pedro pulled out the box, opened it to a golden band. "Marry me?"

[airybcby]

I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH UGH. anywaysss, reo heavy HEAVY angst pls. idk, he just seems like the kind of guy who fits in angst fics SOOO muchh😭 that's actually all, thank youuuuuuuuuy

you know just the way to my heart ;)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° don't get sentimental

( reo mikage x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — reo AND angst? my loves.

♡ word count — 1.3k

♡ content — reo mikage x fem! reader (could be gn! but i wrote abt a wedding dress and kids so), arranged marriage (can you tell i love this trope?), angst, dream scene (once), set when reo and reader are like 26-28ish, childhood friends, unrequited love, pining, not proofread!

♡ synopsis — Reo always wonders that if he stayed in the perfectly crafted cage his parents made for him...would life be different?

── .✦ one day i am gonna grow wings

You and Reo met when you were three years old.

Not in the tender, fated way that fairy tales romanticize — but at a merger dinner between two families with too much money and not enough heart.

Reo doesn’t remember it, not clearly. He was a blur of bowties and sugared-up nerves. But you remember. 

You always do. 

You’d tell him about it later — how you cried when he took your toy car, and how he gave it back, with a crayon drawing of you both holding hands. The lines were shaky, the sun too big, your hair the wrong color.

You kept it anyway.

From that point on, there was no separating your lives.

Birthday parties, family vacations, etiquette classes, weekends filled with obligation masked as bonding.

You were the only kid he could tolerate in that world. The only one who didn’t flinch when he got too intense. The only one who didn’t care about the Mikage name.

Your parents always said it like a joke.

“They’ll end up married, just wait and see.”

A little prophecy dressed up as humor. Something you could both roll your eyes at… until it stopped sounding ridiculous.

“You know they’re going to make us get married, right?”

You were sixteen. Reo remembers that day better than most.

The rooftop of a rented summer estate, the orange wash of sunset casting long shadows across your face. 

You both had ditched a charity ball downstairs. The music floated faintly up through the walls.

Reo had laughed. “Could be worse.”

You had turned to him. “Yeah? How?”

“At least I like you.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Familiar. Something you’d both grown into, like an old sweater neither of you had the heart to throw away.

You were best friends. Always had been.

And maybe something more, though you never said it aloud.

Because what would’ve been the point?

Then Reo found soccer.

Not the kind played in private academies or manicured fields behind country clubs — but the kind that tore your knees open and made your chest burn. 

The kind that made him feel alive for the first time in his life.

You supported him.

Of course you did. 

No one else saw how he lit up when he played. 

How he finally started speaking about something without apologizing for wanting it too much.

But your parents didn’t.

When Reo told them he wanted to go pro — that he didn’t want the family business or the predetermined life that came with it — the engagement that had always been quietly understood fell apart.

They ended it swiftly, like cutting off a loose thread.

And Reo let them.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t beg. He just walked away.

And somehow, that hurt worse than anything.

Still, he stayed in touch.

You both did.

Late night messages. Check-ins during tournaments. Birthday calls that grew shorter each year. The tether between you stretched, but it never snapped.

Until one day… it stopped being enough.

You were twenty-six when your parents arranged another marriage.

To someone suitable.

Someone who wouldn’t walk away from legacy.

Someone whose name paired well with yours on embossed invitations.

He wasn’t awful. Just… not Reo.

You told yourself that mattered.

That this was easier.

That you were happy.

The wedding is beautiful.

Of course it is. Everything your parents curate is.

The flowers are pristine. 

The venue gleams. 

Every single guest is dressed like they walked out of a glossy magazine spread.

Reo is seated near the back.

He tries not to draw attention — not an easy task when you're one of the most recognizable athletes in the country. But he doesn’t want to be seen. 

Not today.

Not when he’s watching you walk down the aisle.

You look stunning. Almost unreal. Draped in expectations and silk.

Your face carries the kind of smile people wear when they know the camera’s on them.

The kind that says: I made peace with this. I chose this. It’s fine.

Reo watches every step like it’s in slow motion.

Watches the way your fingers tremble slightly around the bouquet.

The way your eyes flick, just once, toward the back of the room.

You see him.

And for a second, you hesitate.

Not enough for anyone else to notice — but Reo notices.

He always does.

And that’s what kills him.

You sit at the sweetheart table beside your new husband.

You barely talk.

People approach to congratulate you. Take photos. Compliment your dress.

As soon as they leave, the silence wraps itself around you like fog.

Your husband checks his watch. You glance toward the door.

You don't look unhappy.

But Reo sees it.

He sees the way your smile dims when no one's watching.

Sees how your posture relaxes only when you're alone.

Sees that the girl who once dreamed of freedom is still hiding beneath layers of compromise.

He tries to leave quietly, not sure how much more he could take.

But someone stops him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Reo Mikage? No way. My nephew’s obsessed with you—can I grab a photo?”

He obliges. Napkins, cocktail menus, a tie—he signs them all.

Another hand. Another flash of a camera. A compliment. A drink.

“You’ve done so well for yourself, son. You must be proud.”

“Your game last month—insane. That last-minute goal? Genius.”

“Tell me, are you seeing anyone?”

More laughter. More champagne. More people trying to own pieces of him.

All the wings he fought to grow suddenly feel clipped.

When he finally slips outside, it’s past midnight. The sky is ink-black, scattered with stars he doesn’t care to name.

He leans against the railing of the venue’s back patio, shoulders heavy.

A breeze picks up.

He thinks about the first time you kissed — unspoken, quiet, on a winter night when the world felt too big and too far away.

Thinks about the dreams you once shared — the tiny apartment you were going to decorate together. The dog you’d name after some ridiculous pun. 

The freedom you were going to steal back, inch by inch.

And he wonders, not for the first time:

If he had just stayed in the cage they built for him…

Would he have you too?

That night, Reo dreams of a different life.

It’s warm. Familiar. 

He wakes in a bed too soft to be his, sheets tangled around his legs. Sunlight filters through sheer curtains. 

There’s the faint sound of a kettle, and then—

Your laugh.

He follows the sound down a hallway. Through a door. Into a kitchen he doesn’t remember ever living in, but feels like home.

You're standing by the counter, wearing his hoodie. 

A child clings to your leg—small, babbling, messy-haired. 

Another one is at the table, coloring furiously with a crayon held in their fist.

“Morning,” you say, smiling, like you’ve always said it that way.

You hand him a mug. It’s chipped. The design is worn. 

He’s never seen it before, but he knows it’s his favorite.

He takes it, touches your wrist, kisses the top of your head.

Everything is soft. Simple. Sacred.

The child at the table holds up their drawing.

A shaky stick figure with purple hair. “It’s you, Daddy!”

He crouches down. Laughs. Feels his chest ache with a love too big to hold.

And then—

The sound of a whistle. 

The roar of a stadium. 

A voice calling his name like a siren from outside the dream.

He wakes up alone.

In a hotel room. 

Dark. 

Cold. 

The air conditioner hums.

There’s no warmth. 

No laughter. 

No tiny hand tugging his sleeve.

Just his phone, lighting up with notifications. 

A news article about last night’s wedding. 

A tagged photo. 

A message from a fan.

And the ache still in his chest, blooming like grief.

He presses the heel of his hand to his eyes.

He wonders what kind of cruel dream gives you a life and then takes it away before sunrise.

The kind you don’t forget.

The kind you never stop wanting.

if you were wondering, reo is my favorite character to write angst for :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato ❀ @kiyy0mei ❀ @x3nafix ❀ @sugacor3 ❀ @ohagiyoo ❀ @reigensuperstar ❀ @nevvynevnev ❀ join the taglist here !

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter One - Of Cakes and Dances

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, bit of suggestive smut

Word Count: 2,6k

a/n: We officially start our road to the wedding, guys! 🥳 In this chapter we have some cake tasting and dancing. Enjoy! 🤗

A huge shoutout goes out in this chapter to @chennqingg ! She crafted the beautiful wedding invitation! Thank you so, so much, my friend! 💚

💍 Chapter Zero °☆• Chapter Two 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

A rather loud knock against the main door of Loki's (and now as well yours) apartment echoed through the hallway and rooms; even reaching you in the bathroom.

Not that this was a problem so 'early' in the morning - well, not usually, but today was Saturday and both you and Loki had your 'day off'. Given that fact, your fiancé was still sound asleep and you, well... You had just stepped out of the shower mere minutes ago.

"Gimme one minute, pwease!" You called out of the door frame; tooth brush in mouth.

After quickly getting dressed and at least halfway ready, you jogged towards the door; opening it slightly out of breath.

"Morning, babes!"

Natasha was standing in front of it; big smile on her face and a small sized parcel in her hand.

She immediately noticed your laboured breath and flushed face, of course - and Nat being Nat, she couldn't let this just pass.

"Had to dismount your princely stud first?" Your best friend asked boldy; throwing you a dirty smile and wink.

You blinked.

"What? I- No! Nat!" Once your brain had caught up you immediately 'defended' yourself; gently slapping her shoulder while laughing. "You and your dirty mind! Geez, I was just having a shower and about to get ready for the day. You were the one interrupting me and forcing me to hurry, babes! Besides is my..." You lifted your hands to draw quotation marks into the air, in order to quote Nat. "... princely stud still asleep."

The widow had done nothing but smirk and giggle while you had explained 'the situation'.

Now she shrugged her shoulders. "We both know it could've been both." "Oh shut up!" You giggled and then proceeded to hug her. Only halfway unfortunately, because the little parcel was kind of in the way.

"What have you got here?" You asked then; nodding at said rectangular carton box. "The reason why I am here." Your best friend smiled. "I was just returning from a run, when the postman delivered this for you - and I may have a guess what it is..."

The gears in your head were turning, until realisation hit you; eyes widening.

"The wedding invitations!" Natasha nodded. "Yup! I mean, it's about time they arrive. We've only got three months left..."

Three months... Three... Natasha was right. Only 85 days left until you were going to marry the love of your life.

"By the Norns... How did the year go by so quick? I could swear Loki just proposed to me and now we are already getting married?" Your best friend giggled, "Well, like I already said... It was about time for Loki to get that ring." and handed you the parcel. "If you need help with these... You know where to find me." The widow gave you a wink, then turned to leave. "I'll see you!"

You smiled. "Bye! And thanks, babes!"

Later that Saturday - after you finished your business in the bathroom and Loki had made it to leave the bed as well, the both of you took a look inside the parcel together. Until now, you had just seen a rough blueprint of the invitations and not the originals. Excitedly, you opened up the package - and couldn't believe your eyes. They were absolutely stunning. Beyond your expectations. "Baby, look at that..." You carefully took one in your hands. Loki just chuckled, "I am looking, darling." and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "I love them!" You stated; eyes still clued to the green and golden card.

The god nodded approvingly. "Indeed. They are beautifully crafted. More than fit for an invitation to a royal wedding."

You giggled. "Yeah? Are they fulfilling the princely expectations?" Loki gently squeezed your side. "Of course, love." "Shall we send them out then? It's time, isn't it?" He smiled at you; blue eyes shining with love and anticipation. "I'd be more than happy to do so."

You and Loki spent the rest of the day with folding the invitations, putting them inside an envelope, labelled said envelopes and of course send them out. Some of them were handed over personally and some reached their receiver with a little help of seidr.

Sending out invitations wasn't the only thing you and Loki had to still 'get done' for the wedding. Oh no... Two big things were still scribbled on the 'to-do' list - of which one was to practise your wedding dance.

You and Loki had already chosen the songs and a 'choreography' was made. The only thing what you still had to do now, was practising. Your soon-to-be husband hadn't really a problem - given the fact that he was a prince. He learned how to dance in his youth.

As for you... Well... You struggled a little bit, but you were confident. Plus, you had the best teacher...

"No, my love," the god spoke through the music with a chuckle; shaking his head. A snap of his finger later, the song stopped. "You..." He adjusted your arm around his shoulder gently. "...have to keep your arm like that. Unless I won't be able to lift you properly." You sighed. "Sorry, babe. Asgardian dancing isn't my cup of tea, I'm afraid." Once more Loki shook his head; the man bun keeping his curls from tickling your arm. "No, don't say that. You never danced like this before - of course you need more time and practice." "Yeah, but... We already practised this about ten times..."

Loki chuckled. "Yes and you're doing wonderfully. Do you wish to know how long it took me to learn all this?" You just nodded. "Over a year." That left you speechless. "Exactly. Now come on." Loki got into position. "Let's do it again." You agreed; getting into position as well. "At least I can waltz and we have to practice part two of our dance not remotely as much..." "You say that as if it meant nothing, darling. I'd be so bold and say that not every Midgardian woman can waltz." "Yes, but-" "Ah.Ah," Loki tutted; interrupting you. "No buts. You are my dancing queen." His words left you blushing, and before you were able to say something, he 'switched on' the music again.

You quickly tried to focus; recalling the dance steps you had learned already - and it worked. It really worked. You smiled as you moved with Loki over the rich marble floor in one of the dance halls in Asgard.

Practising in Asgard? Yes. Why? Loki insisted, since one: The actual dance would take place here as well, so it was better for the practice and two: Because the professional dance lessons (if you would choose to take some) were for free. Plus, nearly every Asgardian was a literal dance professional...

Since you (and Loki) wanted to keep things even and make a mix of an Asgardian and Midgardian wedding, the dance consisted of two components. You'd start with the Asgardian part and then switch over to the Midgardian. Two realms, two songs - and actually two dances. The waltz was no problem for you, but the Asgardian dance style was...

With the ending of the last tunes of the beautiful musical piece, you and Loki took your 'final position' as well. Your right arm draped over his shoulder; hand resting on the nape of his neck. His right arm was in the exact same position. Your forehead was leaned against his; skin on skin and eye to eye.

The god smiled, "Well done, love." and broke the position to catch your lips in a small, gentle kiss. "See? You did it." "Almost," you corrected him, but couldn't help but smile as well. Loki rolled his eyes - still with that smirk on his face, "We'll get to it, I promise." and took a step back. "Let's start again."

Loki distanced himself from you and got into position, with his hands crossed behind his back. Then he snapped and the song started from the beginning. The both of you started to walk towards each other graciously. Once you were an arm length away from your soon-to-be husband, you curtsied. Just like Loki took a bow. In rhythm with the music, your right palm found his left palm; forearm to forearm and other hand neatly resting on yours and Loki's back - and so you started to dance.

Loki slipped into a fresh t-shirt, while he made his way towards the bathroom. Knocking gently, he called out your name; gaining your attention.

"Love? Are you ready? We have to go in about ten minutes. Unless we'll be late."

Loki's 'wake-up call' caused your eyes to widen slightly. You may or may not have forgotten the time a little bit while showering... "I'm on my way, babe!" You quickly hopped out of the shower and into a fresh pair of underwear, before blow-drying your hair - at least a little bit (It was late summer, so actually not a big problem since it was pleasantly warm outside.), and got dressed in your baby blue summer dress.

Once you left the bathroom, your fiancé was already waiting for you; leaning against the wall with the car keys in hand.

"Are we ready?" You smiled and stepped up to him; winding your arms around his neck. "Eager to go?" The god chuckled. "It's about cake, darling. Of course I am eager."

You giggled and pecked his lips. "Let me just grab my purse and then we can leave." Loki nodded; watching you walk past him.

The two of you had an appointment today at the best pâtisserie in down town New York City in order to do a cake tasting. It was about the wedding cake, of course and you both agreed that it would be best to try some things first, before you'd decide about the interiority of the three-tier wedding cake. The design and decoration was already set and arranged with the pâtisserie. Now you and Loki had to do the 'fun' part... Tasting different fillings and flavours.

Your destination was a twenty minute car ride away from the Avengers compound. Give or take.

Luckily the traffic was not a complete chaos, so you made it to arrive in time.

The pâtisserie was bustling with people - of course. After all, it was the best in down town; yes, probably in whole New York City.

With your hand snugly wrapped up in Loki's bigger hand, you waited patiently in line until it was your turn. "Hi, we have an appointment for a wedding cake tasting," you explained to the friendly looking young man behind the counter. His eyes widened when he looked at you and Loki; recognising the both of you for sure. "Oh, uh, yes, give me a second, please..." He said nervously, looked down and seemed to search for something, until- "Ah, yes. Please follow me." You nodded with a smile. The young man's cheeks reddened and he smile bashfully back at you.

You and Loki followed him then to a little back room with two doors, a small grey sofa, white counter and some bar stools. The wall was painted in a beautiful shade of pastel orange and a few art pictures hung here and there. It looked quite neat and cosy.

"Have a seat, please." The man gestured towards the sofa. "Riley will be with you in a minute." You smiled, "Thank you." while your fiancé gave him a nod. Once more the young guy smiled shyly and fumbled nervously with his fingers. "It's an honour to have you here, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Laufeyson."

For the first time since you entered the pâtisserie, Loki spoke up; leapfrogging you. "Well, it's a pleasure to be here." You silently agreed with the god; who still held your hand in a snug grip and made sure you were standing close to him.

Even though you were about to be married, he still showed the people who you belonged to. Guess some things never change, you thought with a smile; looking at your engulfed hand. You didn't care, though. Quite the opposite... Loki's slight possessiveness was attractive and admittedly sexy in your eyes.

The man opposite you blushed in a dark shade of red, "That's great to hear." before shuffling his feet. He was on the verge of leaving the room, but before he did, he turned around to face you and Loki once again; seemed now to have scratched all his bravery together and ask: "I-I know this is p-probably inappropriate to ask, b-but may I get an autograph l-later?"

You smiled brightly. The guy was kinda cute, you couldn't deny that. "Of course. Just hit us up before we leave again."

The young man's eyes twinkled with happiness - and relief. "T-Thank you." Then he left the little room and you and Loki alone.

About five minutes later, the other door at the side wall opened and in came a woman in 'workwear', bright pink hair, glasses and quite a few piercings.

You and Loki were sitting on the sofa - like instructed; hands still intertwined and resting in your lap. Your free hand was on Loki's thigh, close to his knee. When you saw the woman, you both stood up.

"Hi there!" She said in a happy, enthusiastic tone and crossed the distance to meet you and shake your hands. "I'm Riley, we talked on the phone. Nice to meet you." You shook her hand, smiling. "Y/N and Loki." The friendly woman winked, "I know." shook Loki's hand as well and gestured for the counter with the bar stools. "Shall we move over?" "Sure." You and the god followed her. She went behind the counter and you both got comfortable on the stools.

"Alright!" Riley drummed her fingertips slightly on the wooden surface; smiling. "We already talked about your wedding cake in general a few months back. All that's missing are the fillings - and that's why you're here today. I prefer to do that in terms of a tasting, because it guarantees that the cake is really after your taste. But, before we do that I have to ask if you'd like to make any last minute changes, regarding the style or decoration of the cake?"

You and your fiancé exchanged a look and simultaneously shook your heads. "No, it's perfect the way it is."

Riley clapped her hands. "Alright. I'll go, fetch the things we need and then we can start, yes?" "Perfect, thank you."

Just a few minutes later, she returned with a big tray full of small, round cakes. They were neatly arranged and, of course, labelled. Riley put the tray down on the counter in front of you and Loki. Your eyes roamed over the different cakes with their different fillings and you just couldn't wait to taste them.

"Okay," started Riley with a smile. "I put together a wide range of different stuff and flavours. We've got some classics like vanilla, chocolate and strawberry, but also a few special - some might say exotic flavours like mango, melon and matcha, and of course some which are refined with alcohol and coffee."

"Start which whatever you like." That was a sentence you and Loki didn't let yourself tell twice. You dived right in, always splitting the tiny cake in half and tasted the delicious treats.

Both, you and your soon-to-be husband didn't think that deciding on three different flavours for your wedding cake was that difficult - but by the Norns, it was. Almost everything just tasted absolutely wonderful and exactly that was the problem - and that you and Loki had different favourites...

"Okay, okay..." You said, taking a deep breath. "Compromise, babe. You decide on the top cake, I get the bottom one and we choose the middle together?" The god nodded; giving you a smile. "Agreed."

In the end, Loki chose chocolate-mint, you mango-maracuya and together you decided on something with a little kick - Baileys. Three completely different flavours, hopefully one for everybodys taste.

Here's the beautiful invitation @chennqingg designed!

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[imtryingbuck]

Epilogue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n L/n becomes Queen of Astoria not that she wanted to. Prince James of Winterfeld meets her and falls in love.

Word count: 6,142

Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. mentions of being sick. mentions of being barren. y/n’s father. mentions of wishing for a baby to die (in flashback). hitting of a teenager. panic attack. 

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

"Go and fetch Queen Y/n, quickly!"

The young servant bows before her King before making a bee line out of the chambers and down the corridors, not even apologising to the other servants or knights she bumps in to along the way. She doesn't want to disappoint her King so saying a simple 'sorry' will have to be saved until later.

The young girl knows exactly where to find the Queen and pushes her legs to keep carrying her small frame, ignoring the burning pain she feels in her lungs.

The sun shined in the sky on the hottest day of the year, the chatter of the townsfolk ring out in the air as they move around through the market - each person paying no mind to the servant as she continues running towards the woods.

"Are you ready to admit your defeat?" A familiar soft yet harsh voice hits the girls ears.

"Never!"

"Ah, very well. I must kill you now" Just as the sword is raised in the air the servant calls for the Queen.

"Yes?"

"The King, he said it is urgent."

Six months after Y/n and Bucky married Carlson kept lingering around the council table, his eyes looking at her before dropping to his hands, his mouth opening and closing before any word could escape him.

Sighing she looked up from the papers in front of her and looked at her best friend. “What?”

“Huh? Oh nothing.”

“Carls you have been pacing around for the last hour looking like you want to say something, so… out with it.”

“I-I��” huffing and dropping down in one of the empty seats, Y/n winces as Carlson’s head bangs on the table, he mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“I wish to marry Larissa.”

“Then marry her.”

“D-Do I have your permission?”

“You are both my friends, all I wish is for you two to be happy.” She smiled at him.

“But I am your best friend, right?”

“Of course, no need to get territorial.” They both burst out laughing. “Do it under the willow tree.”

“Why there?”

“I may have been telling stories but I noticed the way you stared at her. I think it would be sweet.”

“When should I do it?”

“Now if you have a ring?”

“I have my mother’s.”

At the mention of his mum they smiled sadly at each other, a fever took her away from him and his dad when he was only eight years old. Y/n remembers holding him in her arms as he drenched her dress with his tears as his mum took her last breath, she remembers holding his hand as the coffin went into the ground. For months Carlson didn’t smile despite her attempts at making him crack one, Carl was no better.

“They would have loved Larissa.”

“Do you think?”

“I know they would. Go and I will have someone fetch her.”

Carlson smiles widely and jumps up out of his seat, pressing a quick kiss to her temple he runs out of the room. Y/n made her way to the room where her sisters, mum and Larissa were doing their needlework and asked for Larissa to follow her, leading her friend arm in arm outside she walked her towards the willow tree, smiling and nodding in encouragement as she let go of Larissa’s arm. Watching her best friend get down on one knee had a smile on her lips which only widened when Larissa nods with a huge smile.

Three weeks later Y/n walked Larissa down the aisle to where Carlson was waiting, as the celebration began to draw to a close it was the same on her own wedding night where an argument was made with the maester who wanted to be in the room, but this time it wasn’t Bucky but Y/n arguing with them. The argument didn’t last long of course.

A few days after the wedding of her two friends Y/n squinted her eyes at seeing Annalise floating by the open door of the private family garden.

“What are you doing Anna?”

“Oh! Sister I did not see you there.” She says coming outside, a sweet smile on her lips.

“No of course you did not. What do you want?”

“I do not want anything.”

“No? Right, well come and sit with me.”

The two sisters - the oldest and the youngest out of the children shared from the same parents - sat in silence watching as the birds flew overhead in the sky. That was until Anna broke it.

“C-can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What is marriage like?”

“I assume it is different for everyone.” Y/n starts, but she knows that’s not what her sister is asking. “For me I was lucky to marry a man I love, it is beautiful, though I do admit I am not fond of him being able to see me as I am.”

Annalise frowns and cocks her head to the side. “How do you mean?”

“He sees me as Y/n, not the queen, not the warrior, just me. But in a way I like it, you know?”

“I do.” A small smile tugs at her lips before dropping quickly. “Florence will be wedded soon to that prince.”

“She will be.”

“Is she scared?”

“I do not think so, they have spent so much time together and I believe there are feelings for one another, why are you asking me this?”

“I… I wish to be lucky like you, sister. I wish to marry for love.”

Taking her younger sisters hand in hers, she looks in her eyes and sees her younger self staring back at her. “Liam, am I right?”

“H-how did you know?”

“I am not blind, I see the way you both look at each other.” Pushing back a strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Also you do not like horses.”

The two sisters start laughing, Anna nodding in agreement to her oldest sisters comment. “If- if he asked…”

“If Liam asks for your hand then I will grant it.”

“And you are not mad? That he is a stable boy and not a prince?”

“All I have ever wanted for my sisters is to be happy, if a stable boy makes you happy then so am I.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Anna wraps her arms around her sister and pulls her close, snuggling into Y/n’s warmth when she feels her sisters arms around her.

Later that day Annalise and Liam came into the throne room where Y/n was talking to Bucky as he sat next to her, Liam got down on one knee and bows and asks his queen permission to marry her sister, the longer he was down on one knee the more he got nervous as she didn’t say anything. Only letting go of the breath he was holding when she smiles and says another wedding will be taking place. Not even two weeks later Bucky walked Annalise down the aisle - Y/n had to stifle her laughter at seeing the proud look on her husbands face as he walked his sister-in-law towards her soon to be husband.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, my Grace.”

“Do your checks again because I think you are wrong.”

“M-my Queen this is the fourth time we have checked. You are with child.” The maester smiled.

“Oh.”

“I think you are three months along, my Grace.”

“Right. Right, okay, thank you, you may leave now and do not speak a word of this please.”

The two maesters shared a look between each other, it wasn’t the reaction they were expecting when they told her that she was with child, but smiled at her and promised that they wouldn’t speak a word of it, they left quickly once she dismissed them.

Her hand went to her stomach and frowned at feeling the small bump, how she didn’t notice it before was lost on her, she felt sick as she eyed up the small bump in the mirror - her mum told her that her father was lying about her barren and now according to the maesters she was three months along. Sitting down on the chair she tried to breathe, she closed her eyes.

*flashback*

Y/n forces herself not to wince as she tries to sit on the wooden chair at the dinner table knowing that her father was watching, even with the pain shooting through her body she refused to show her father any weakness.

Dinner was eaten in silence - even her youngest sister who normally liked to talk with her mouth full of half chewed food, kept quiet. It wasn’t until food was gone and the plates were cleared by the servants that the king decided to speak.

“King George wrote to me, wanted to talk about marrying his son to my oldest daughter.” He looked over at Y/n smirking at seeing her dig her nails into the arm of the chair. “But I wrote back to him to say that she was not able to marry.”

Y/n, her mum and stepmother in unison let go of the breath they were holding, the thank you dying on her mums tongue as her husband continued. “I told him that it was unfair to marry his son to my barren daughter.”

“What? How could you say that about our daughter?” Her mum shouted, her eyes going back and forth between her husband and daughter, noticing the stare off they were having.

“It is true. No Gods would allow her to be a mother.”

“You cannot say something like that, she is a child!”

“She is barren!” Her sisters flinch and let out cries as he screams, slamming his hand on the table. “She is a barren useless bitch!”

Nobody dared to say anything or move, the only sound in the hall was her two youngest sisters crying quietly not understanding why their father was angry. Her mum was staring at her in hopes to catch her eyes to silently tell her to back down but Y/n’s eyes were on her father. Though she was thirteen years old she knew what barren meant, she knew that it meant that she would never be able to have children and at thirteen she didn’t care, she already had to help with her younger sisters - she remembers when each of them were born and couldn’t understand why everyone kept saying they were cute… because to her they weren’t, she had witnessed her mum and stepmother give birth and the thought of going through the pain that they were going through wasn’t something that was pleasing to her.

Her mums heart dropped when her oldest daughter, her starlight, start laughing.

“Are you scared that I would have what you could not?”

“And what is that?”

“Sons.”

Her grin only grows when she sees the twitch in her father’s cheek. “I am your father!”

“Unfortunately.”

“I am the king!” He once again shouts. “You will show me respect!”

Pushing her chair away from the table, holding the wince that tries to make an appearance, she leans on the table. “I will do no such thing.”

As she walks away from the hall she can hear her father screaming for her to stop, not even flinching when a cup flies past her and smashes against the wall.

*present*

Y/n stood up way too fast which caused her head to go light as she rushed over to the bowl, she had only managed to get down on her knees before her breakfast came up. Groaning once she was finished, she sat against the wall - not even flinching when her head banged against the stone - closing her eyes she went into another memory.

*flashback*

All she wanted to do was train with Carlson but the men in the ring wouldn’t let her, Carlson was fine as he was a boy but because she was a girl she wasn’t allowed.

“I can fight!”

“You are a weak little girl. You cannot.”

“I am not weak!” They all laughed at her. It probably didn’t help that she was stomping her foot. “Please let me fight.”

“No-“

“Wait, is this the barren princess?” One of the men asked, eyeing her up and down.

“Yes this is her.”

“I am not barren.” She mumbled as she shifted under the intense gaze of the men.

“Let her fight with us. If the barren princess wants to fight who are we to protest.”

“Not barren but thank you.”

It had been a year since the dinner disaster as her stepmother calls it, the servants were quick to tell others what they had heard which meant that the whole kingdom had heard what her father had called her. She had grown use to the pity looks from the people, she had grown use to the failed attempts of whispers of how her womb that would remain empty for the rest of her days when she would walk by, she had gotten use to pretending that it didn’t affect her when in reality Carlson had held her in his arms more times than he could count as she cried about her being a failure as a woman with him being always quick to tell her that she wasn’t a failure.

Her first time in the ring the men were arguing with one another about who was going to be the first one to fight the barren princess. None of them went easy on her. Every time she went down Carlson flinched and silently begged for her to stay down, rolling his eyes when she didn’t.

“Stay down barren princess.” The large man panted. Though he had to admit he admired her bravery… or stupidity.

“I am not barren!” She growled, spitting out the blood from her mouth, she stood up and charged at him.

Her sword clashed with his and for the first time since she had gone into the ring she was getting the upper hand, the men began cheering her on with Carlson screaming the loudest. Her opponent chuckles himself as her face morphed into confusion as she manages to get him down on the ground.

Holding his hands in surrender he smiled at her. “You have bested me, my barren princess.”

“I am not barren.” Slamming her sword into the ground right next to his head, she leans down closer to him. “I am not the barren princess. Do you understand.”

“That you are not.” He chuckles, standing up he picks her up and places her onto his shoulder. “All hail the warrior princess!”

*present*

Looking around the room she tried getting her heart rate down, before she chuckled at the memory of the servant going pale at seeing the bruises that covered the majority of her little body that she got from training with the skilled warriors of Astoria.

As she placed her hand on her stomach there was a knock at the door.

*flashback*

The adrenaline was still pumping through her as she jumped on her bed - she, Carlson, her father and his army had just come back home victorious from the battle, though her thigh hurt from where the enemy had sliced her she kept jumping on the large bed.

A knock on her door had her stop bouncing before she could tell the person to enter the door opened, her shoulders instantly slumping and that once happy feeling she had faded away as she made eye contact with her father.

“Get down.” Huffing she does as he says and gets down from the bed. “Now sit.”

“I am not a dog.”

“Just sit.” She sat knowing that if she just complied with him he would leave quickly. “What was you thinking?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sneaking into line with my men! It was reckless, you could have…” Closing his eyes he blew a breath before turning his back on her. “You are not a trained fighter.”

“I want to fight and you have to admit father I was doing well.”

“You could have died! How stupid can you be?” He yelled, then began pacing up and down in her room.

She sat there staring at her father, hope blossoming in her heart at his words. “Would… would you have cared?” She whispered.

“What?”

“Would you have cared if I did die?”

That hope she had forming in her heart died the second the words came out of his mouth. “No. But your mother would.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“What are you talking about?”

Standing up she made her way over to her father and stood in front of him. “Why do you hate me?”

“I do not.”

“No?”

“No.”

“And yet you say that you would not have cared if I died on the battle field.” He tries to walk away but she grabs him by his arm, her hand trembling slightly when he looks down at her hand in complete disgust. “All I have ever wanted was for you to love me but yet you have had me beaten, belittled and casted aside, an- and I do not understand why.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Anything! Tell me what I did so terrible to you. Tell me how I can make you love me as you love my sisters. Anything, father, please.”

Ripping her hand off of him harsher than he expected which caused her to stumble backwards. “You are not the child I wanted!” He shouted. “The second you were born I wished you died before you took your first breath! You were not the boy I wanted.”

Lowering her head she fought with herself not to cry right there and then in front of him. “I-I am sorry.”

“Sorry? Sixteen years too late.” He replied coldly.

Still she tried to gain back her love for him after three years of feeling nothing for him, he was her father after all. “I can fight in your army, I proved that to you. I can prove myself to you.”

“No!” Once again he shouts, she silently wonders how his throat wasn’t hurting yet. “You are useless to me.”

“Why do you not kill me then? Do it now, no one would question you, mother will get over it-“. Her words get cut off by her father’s hand smacking her across her face.

“I could do that, yes, but what kind of father would I be by doing that?”

“Y-you… I do not understand. You hate me that much is true, you torment me, you-you hurt me and yet you are too much of a coward to kill your own daughter that is useless to you. It does not make sense.”

“Do you know how many kings, nobles, hells even common men, have offered me an alliance due to me having a daughter who is barren?”

Her nose flares at that word, having grown to detest it, she clenched her fist by her sides. “Ah, so they pity you.”

Before she could realise what was happening her father’s hand came into contact with her face once more, knocking her off balance causing her to bang her head against the table.

*present*

“Y/n! Sweetheart, please come back to me.”

“B-Bucky?”

When she came back the present she noticed Bucky and Carlson kneeling in front of her, she was backed into a corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, her whole body was trembling with sweat dripping down her face. Her eyes shifting between her husband and best friend as her grip tightened on her dress.

“Y/n/n, it is alright, you are safe I promise you.”

“C-Carls-“.

“I swear to you that everything is fine. You are with me and Bucky, look.”

Looking at Bucky she frowns at seeing the heartbroken expression on his face. “I-“ Taking a deep breath, once, twice. “I am fine. I am fine.”

“You gave us quite the scare, my love.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to.”

“Y/n, what happened?” Carlson asked as he smoothed out her hair, his heart aching at seeing his best friend in this position again.

“N-nothing. I am fine.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I- it was just a memory, that is all.” She tried to smile though it came out as a grimace. “Why are you here?”

“Your guard heard you in distress so one came and got us.”

“Right.” With the help of the two men she stood up, smoothing her dress out she tried to remember what she was doing before she allowed the memories to take over. As she moved around the room she could feel the two sets of eyes on her, looking over her shoulder at them she gave them a questioning look. “What?”

“Please tell us what happened.” Bucky begged.

“I- I was told something and I do not know what happened, it felt so real. I was a child again.” Shaking her head she sighed. “It does not matter.”

“What was you told?” Carlson asked, he couldn’t understand it himself why his eyes trailed to her stomach, only widening when she nods slowly.

Bucky noticed the look of pure joy on his friends face, frowning when the two best friends were having a silent conversation that he had no idea what it was about. “Either one of you want to let me in on this conversation?”

Y/n walks slowly over to him and takes his hands into her own and places them on her stomach, his ocean coloured eyes widen, going from hers to where his hands were resting. “They said I am three months along.”

“Y/n…” Dropping to his knees he rested his forehead against her stomach. “I am going to be a father.”

“Yes.” She smiled down at him. “I did not believe them so I had them check four times.”

Both of the men chucked at her words, knowing that she probably asked the maester to check again - hells if Y/n had it her way she would be getting the maesters to check again and again even if her stomach was swollen to the point of exploding.

“I told you that he was wrong Y/n/n. Please allow me to be the first one to give you my congratulations, you will make wonderful parents.” Carlson presses a kiss to her temple and pats Bucky - who is still on his knees - on the back. “I will leave you two to get some rest, you need it, my Queen.”

“Carlson was right, he was wrong.” Bucky knew about her father, of course he did, he had heard the whispers of her being barren from the moment he came to Astoria, it wasn’t until after they were married that he had gained the courage to ask her about the whispers - so she told him the truth, his heart racing with anger at her father, hating the man he had never met. “Our babe is in here.” He whispered.

“Are you happy?”

“More than happy.” Finally standing up he cupped her face and kissed her. “I love you. Gods knows I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When a yawn makes an appearance Bucky is quick to untie her hair from the braids and brush out the tangles, undoing the laces to her dress he helps her slide her dress off and her slip - since being married they both preferred sleeping naked, he quickly removes his own clothes before picking her up and carries her to bed, gently laying her on their bed he helps her get under the covers, climbing in next to her.

With her head resting on his chest he drew invisible shapes on her bare skin - knowing that it helps her fall asleep - he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, my sweet love.”

“I love you too.” She mumbled. “Oh, I just remembered we were supposed to marry a long time ago.”

“W-what? Y/n?” Looking down he smiled softly at seeing her already asleep, he made a mental note to ask her what she meant in the morning.

Steve and Sam stood leaning against the wall their eyes bouncing between Bucky and Carlson as the two men paced back and forth in the hallway as if they were caged animals, their fists clenching as Y/n’s screams bounced off the walls. Both stopping every time everything went quiet, only to resume their pacing when they heard her screaming again.

When the door opened Bucky and Carlson nearly collided with each other with how fast they moved towards the door.

“How is she?” They spoke in unison.

“She is well. The babe is here.”

They both sigh of happiness at hearing that Y/n was well, and that the babe had finally arrived twelve hours after her waters broke. Carlson wrapped his arms around Bucky and smiled. “Go and see them.”

“Are you not coming in?”

“I will see them soon.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here with me, for her.” Carlson nodded then pushed him closer to the door.

Bucky didn’t know what he was going to walk in on but seeing the bloodied sheets being bundled into a ball made him feel sick knowing that was his wife’s blood however that sick feeling went away the second he laid eyes on Y/n - sweat still dripping down her flushed face, her hair a complete mess and a dazed look in her eyes, he thought she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.

The air got caught in his throat. His eyes followed hers that’s when he sees her holding their babe. The babe that he had been talking to whilst it grew inside of her was now here, the babe he loved the second he found out he was going to be a father, he wanted to see if the babe had its mothers nose like he said it would yet he couldn’t force his feet to move.

That was until Y/n looked up at him and smiled, beckoning him closer, it took three large steps for him to be at her side.

“A boy.” She smiled at him.

“He has your nose.” Chuckling when their son scrunched his nose up. “Oh he is perfect Y/n. Have you thought of a name yet?”

“I-I would like to name him after my brother, if that is fine with you?”

“Archie? Our little Archie is perfect.”

When her mum and sisters came in they instantly crowded the cradle where Archie slept peacefully with his stomach full of milk, her mum burst out crying at hearing the name her grandson was given which caused Y/n to panic that she had done something wrong.

“He is a mixture of the two of you.” Her mum wailed, gripping Bucky’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not mad about his name?”

“Oh you fool, of course I am not! I named your brother after my own, my mother did the same.”

When it was Carlson’s turn to come in he had his hand on Larissa’s back, leaving his wife’s side the second he laid eyes on Archie. Bucky being ever the gentleman helped his friend sit in the seat he was occupying.

“Hi little one, I am your uncle Carlson.” He cooed as he raised him out of the cradle. “Your mama said that she would name all her sons after me but she has not so I will call you Carlson Junior when it is just the two of us.”

“I never said such thing!” Y/n chuckled.

“All of her sons!” Carlson stated with his eyebrow raised, his eyes never leaving his nephew.

“You can name your own son after you.” Y/n quipped back, pointing to his wife, her friends large bump.

“He thinks it is going to be a girl.” Larissa smiles softly as she rubs her hand over her stomach. “May I hold him?”

“Of course you can, he is your nephew after all.”

It took nearly five minutes to get Carlson to hand over Archie to Larissa.

Two weeks later Steve and Sam stood leaning against the wall their eyes bouncing between Carlson and Bucky as the two men paced back and forth in the hallway as if they were caged animals, their fists clenching as Larissa’s screams bounced off the walls. Both stopping every time everything went quiet, only to resume their pacing when they heard her screaming again.

Y/n made sure that she was in the room with her friend as she gave birth, Larissa felt guilty that she couldn’t do the same for Y/n but the maester advised that as she was heavily pregnant herself that she shouldn’t be in the room. After only a couple of hours of labour Larissa’s body sagged in Y/n’s arms as the room filled with the cries of her babe.

Carlson was right. They had a baby girl.

“We have named her Abby, after my mother.” He told Bucky who held his niece in his arms.

“Luckily she takes after her mama and not you.” Bucky chuckled, gasping when his friend throws a cloth at him. “Not when I am holding my niece!”

Y/n and Larissa cooed as they watched a two week old Archie hold a one day old Abby’s hand. Whilst Bucky and Carlson held onto each other with tears running down their faces.

The kingdom thrived even more now that Y/n sat on the throne, the townspeople were more happier than they had ever been before, they no longer feared telling their Queen and King their worries and problems knowing that they would happily put their worries to rest and help with said problems - not like the late king who always dismissed them before they got the chance to open their mouths.

Trading had never been more prosperous. In the short time Y/n had been on the throne she had made more alliances than her own father despite him reigning for twenty one years.

It became a regular occurrence for the people to see their Queen and King walking around the market that they would always chuckle when those not from Astoria saw them walking around freely and not completely surrounded by guards.

When word reached the people that Y/n was with child they all cheered and sang their prayers, and when they heard that the babe was born they got their best clothes ready and waited for the day to come for when they would get to see the new prince of Astoria.

What shocked them the most was when Y/n announced that a building was going to be built and for it to be a school for the children so that they could be educated. It was unheard of. And at first they worried that they wouldn’t be able to afford to send their children to this school, when she shocked them again by telling them that it was going to be free.

Another change made in the kingdom was her army, it seemed to grow with each passing month with more and more boys wanting to fight for her and their home. One day during her pregnancy Y/n sat in the throne room when a knight come up and told her that a bunch of women wanted a word.

The bunch - eight - women came inside, all with a look on their faces that she had seen on her own face when she looked in the mirror. Determination.

“How can I help you today?”

“My Queen, we are here to ask you if you will allow us to fight in your army.” One spoke.

“Really?”

“Yes my Grace, we have always admired your strength and courage-“

“There is no need for flattery.”

“Not flattery my Grace, just the truth.”

Giving a nod of gratitude she eyed the women up and down. “Why do you want to be apart of my army?”

“We wish to fight for our Queen, our home.”

“Meet me on the training ground tomorrow morning.”

“R-really?”

“It will be nice to see women on the training ground.” She smiled, which only grew more when they beamed up at her.

The next morning Y/n met the women who were so eager to prove themselves to their Warrior Queen, due to her being pregnant she didn’t go into the ring but was happy to talk them through the correct stances, where to hit and how to protect themselves. Leaning over the railing with Bucky and Carlson on either side of her, they winced before cheering as one of the women flipped her opponent over her shoulder and onto the ground - the man laid sprawled out on the ground trying to figure out what had just happened.

It was an easy decision to make the eight women soldiers.

Dropping her sword she climbs over the fence and begins running towards the castle, Carlson and the servant right on her heels - everyone was quick to move out of the way for their queen.

Rushing towards the family room where the servant had told her that Bucky was waiting, the guards opened the doors as she panted as she looked around the room.

“W-what is wrong?”

“Say it again, go on, you can do it.” Bucky waved her over as he sat in front of their son, a huge smile on his face as he looked at his wife.

“M-m-mama.”

“Did-did he…”.

“He said it before then I got the servant to get you.” Bucky beamed at his son, chuckling as the one year old kicked his legs out.

“You told her that it was urgent, my heart nearly stopped!”

“It is urgent, Lukas just said his first word!”

Three years after Archie was born the maester confirmed what Bucky had expected that Y/n was pregnant again, he kept telling her that her breast was getting bigger - he was way too happy with himself that he was right. Eight months later Bucky and Carlson were back to pacing back and forth as Y/n gave birth, Larissa came out to let Bucky know that everything was okay and that he could go in, he rushed inside to see the love of his life smiling at their new babe. This time Bucky named their second son, naming him after his uncle.

As Y/n looked around the room she saw her five year old Archie and his best friend, cousin, Abby playing with their toys, a three year old Carl - Carlson’s and Larissa’s son - trying to get away from a two year old Nicholas - Annalise and Liam’s son - Larissa rocking hers and Carlson’s second son, nine month old named Eric, in her arms. She felt happy, felt at peace, sticking her tongue out to Archie making him giggle.

Bucky stood up once Lukas crawled away to follow Carl and Nicholas, and wrapped his arms around Y/n, his hand going to her stomach. “When can we tell them?”

“Not yet.”

Two months ago she found out that she would be back on the birthing bed, screaming and withering in pain, cursing all those around her and begging for it to all end - I mean… she found out that she was expecting their third child.

The rest of their family began trickling into the room one by one, her mum going straight for Lukas as she placed him on her hip she gave her oldest daughter a knowing smile when she sees Bucky’s hand placement.

As the royal wheelhouses pulled up to the royal garden where Y/n had taken Bucky to show him the past king and queens of Astoria, it seemed as if the whole kingdom had come out to witness the unveil of the statues of their queen and king, giving Steve and Sam a nod they removed the large cloth revealing the large statue of her and Bucky, she smiled up at him noticing his eyes were already on her.

“I told you that I would make sure they capture your beauty.”

“Beauty… what?”

“Beauty, sweetheart.”

Chuckling, he took her hand in his and raised their hands to his lips. “Thank you, my love.”

As she laid in bed that night, her heart and head light with the days events. She watched as the flame of the candle flicker in quick succession, blowing it out and turning on her side a content sigh fell from her lips, she snuggled further into Bucky’s warm embrace. The chants from her townspeople making her smile as she laid in the arms of the man she loved more than anything, knowing that her two sons were fast asleep across the hall, placing her hand over Bucky’s as it rested on stomach where their third babe was growing, she fell asleep happily.

“Long live the Queen and King!”

<Previous

Tags: @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @sidraaaaaaaaa | @mrsnikstan | @barnesxstan | @hi172826 | @alexdarkacademia | @supraveng | @baw1066

[youarethedancingdean]

Day 7 of @steddie-week

Prompt: Free Space

It all started February, 8th. Eddie found a card in his locker after lunch. It was plain except for a comic-style bumblebee and a speech bubble with the phrase 'Bee mine'. First he thought this was some sort of stupid prank by his band mates, Gareth would come up with something like this. But after opening it and reading what was written in it, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Eddie.

I know, it's not Valentine's Day yet, which is why I'm not asking you to be my valentine. But be sure, I will come the time.

Isn't the bee cute?

The handwriting was too neat to be any of his friends'. God, what if this was some delusional girl with a crush on the school freak, the gay school freak. He better start finding the words to let her down easy.

Two day later, Eddie found a card in his backpack. What the hell, who had put that there? This one wasn't one you could open. The front was white and said 'Save the Date' in baby pink, cursive letters.

Of course, I'm not planing our wedding. I'm not that insane. But, you do have a date on the 14th. Make sure you're free, will you?

Tacos or pizza?

Tacos all the way, but who was this? Eddie had never had a secret admirer, let alone a date. Was this really for real or just a stupid prank in the end. He found, that he was hoping this was real. Even if he'd let down a girl, at least someone had been interested in him this way for once.

The 12th came around and so did the third card. He came home from band practice to find it in the mailbox of his uncle's trailer. The envelope it was in was plain white, the only thing on it was 'Eddie.' written in the by now so familiar handwriting.

The card was hand drawn this time. It was a sleeping bat hanging from the branch of a tree and a small red chested bird on the same branch. The drawing wasn't extravagant, but still pretty damn good. The inside read a joke that only a true nerd would really get. Maybe his admirer was nerdy, too? This was getting pretty interesting.

Be the bat man to my robin ♡

On Valentine's Day Eddie expected someone or at least a card to pop up at every corner. All day, though, he didn't get anything. He didn't even know where his stupid date would be, so he needed to get something, right?

It was 6:30 pm, when he heard a knock on the trailer's door. He jumped up excitedly, only to be disappointed when he opened the door to see Steve Harrington. Don't get him wrong, he thought Steve was beautiful and– GOD– he would date the living shit out of him. But there was no way Steve 'Straight Boy' Harrington had a thing for him. Hell, they barely exchanged nice words.

"Kids aren't here. Didn't they specify where to pick them up again? I think it's Max’ this time," he mentioned instead of greeting Steve, pointing at the trailer across the street where Max and her mother lived. "Not here to pick up the kids, here to pick up you," Steve responded with a cheeky smile, which left Eddie's face with a frown of confusion.

He was handed a small bouquet of flowers, all of them unique and unusual and definitely not some cheesy ones like roses. "Who put you up to this? I need to know, man. I've been getting these cards all week and I need to tell her... well, I need to talk to her. Steve only smiled wider, pointing at the small card in the bouquet. It finally read 'Be my Valentine' and contrary to the others he'd gotten it was just a basic, red and pink Valentine's Day card you could get anywhere.

You want tacos, don't you?

- Steve

Eddie’s eyes widened as he looked back up at the man in front of him. "You're straight," was all he said, quietly and calmly. He had to prepare himself for a disappointment, this had to be a prank after all. "Thank you for the diagnosis, Dr. Munson. But, I think you're wrong there. Look, maybe I shouldn't have made it this cheesy and silly, but I that's how I am, okay. And it's better you know that before you agree to go out with me. So? Tacos?" Steve was clearly pretty insecure and nervous, but he was also dressed nicely and his hair was looking even better than usually. And he knew he would pick tacos. "You're into me? You wanna date me?" Eddie asked, still in shock from it all. Steve nodded. "Let me get my jacket, you're driving," Eddie responded instantly, earning a relieved chuckle from Steve. "And, of course, were having tacos!" he called from his bedroom over the noises of someone looking for something specific in a huge mess.

[fancyfeathers]

omg that student ask was so creepy but fun!! i'd like to add that darling would try to run away as last ditch effort. too bad he already predicted your moves </3 i dont think she can ever look at a mathematics question normally ever again lol

Just imagine that she runs away the night before she is supposed to leave the university and go back to London to prepare for her wedding to William, packing up a small suitcase and buying a ticket to the west end of the country and take a boat off to Ireland to live stay with family there who she has written to and they believed her story about what William attempted to do to her. Her roommate would cover for her but in the end none of it matters because when she arrives at the train station William’s brothers, Albert and Louis were waiting in the carriage and snagged her before she had the chance to leave.

The carriage ride was mostly silent besides a comment or two from Albert about how lovely the wedding will be, but there is no response from William’s darling. Then they don’t return to the university but rather the Moriarty Estate in Durham, since she has her things packed already it made sense for her to stay in the guest bedroom and they could all leave together in the morning, yes?

But it is all to embarrassing when she walks into the drawing room and sees William reading in the drawing room as if he was waiting for them too arrive, and in fact he was because he just smiles and tells her that Louis had already made her bed and prepared the guest bedroom for her earlier that afternoon.

The next day, they return to London as planned and even though she stays at her family home while the wedding is being planned, William or one of his brothers were almost always by her side, William taking her to florists or bakers to discuss the flowers or cake, that she was indifferent to because she did not want to get married in the first place. Then Albert or Louis would take her to modiste for her wedding dress since William could not be allowed to be to see her like that before the wedding.

The wedding is a burl, a situation she barely remembers, well wishes, and smiles towards her and William. Then the next thing she remembers is sitting in the drawing room of the Moriarty Estate next to William, her mind reeling from the shock of everything because her mind was on autopilot since at that night when she was caught at the train station and all hope of freedom slipped through her fingers.

She becomes essentially a house wife, after her marriage to William, she is allowed to do what she wishes as long as she asks William first and normally he will allow her to do what she asks but she never asks due to her fear, shock, and anger at him. He’ll be working in his study and she will be sitting in a near by chair, a book open on her lap but she is gazing out the window. William just glances up briefly as he grades and looks back at his paper.

“Dear?”

“Hm?”

“You were a literature major at Durham in I remember correctly, yes?”

“…I was… why do you ask?”

“I am scheduled to teach summer classes at a university here in London about thirty minutes carriage ride from here. I took the liberty to look into the courses they have available and you would be available to finish your degree.”

William just watched as his darling’s eyes went wide as she just stared out the window, there was no response to William but he could see the light in her eyes grow back ever so slightly…

But that light would be extinguished again a few weeks later, his darling would be finishing work for one of her classes ate at night and William told her that he had meeting he needed to attend and he would be home by the time she was asleep. It was near one or two in the morning and she was still awake as she was finishing up and she she was walking downstairs to clean up the cup of tea she made for herself while she worked, then she hears the doors open and close followed by footsteps and she assumes it’s William. She is walking back to the staircase as she sees William, it’s dark besides the lamp she had and she can see the reflection of a thick liquid on his clothing, blood. She is just wide eyed and horrified before she dropped her lantern, she could not even scream because how scared she was.

“William?”

“…You were supposed to be asleep.”

[xann-z-the-artsy-enby]

Update on the listings

I've used them just about every day and I've been relatively productive even with some bad days!

However

Now I'd like to add another small caveat to the lists: going one step further to designate SPECIFIC DAYS FOR SPECIFIC TASKS!

More below for those interested:

(Again, this stuff works well for me but it might not work for some but I do think ppp should still try it!)

I would say that this works a heck of a lot better if you have several time consuming interests like I do. For example, here are all of my main interests:

Writing,

Drawing,

Theater,

Painting,

Photography,

Bracelet Making,

DIY,

And Baking!

Now OFC I can't do all that in a day, so now I'm sectioning stuff off to specific days for specific things:

SUN: Write, Bake

MON: Draw

TUE: Write

WED: Draw

THU: Write,

FRI: Makeup writing, draw

SAT: Craft

Of course some things like photography would just happen when they happen, and same goes with theater, but yk this does help structure some stuff!

Before this month, I had told myself I would write one chapter almost every day for each month/act. My acts are usually 20-30 chapters, too, so that meant one chapter every day or so, which is NOT the best goal to have in school, or just in general, when you're 1. Neurodivergent and 2. Always doing way more than you should T-T

So I 10000% recommend this for people like that, pus, it's just great for days when you get too overwhelmed with things, like I am today!

Per the schedule you see, I was meant to write 2 chapters this afternoon. But, since I'm still in high school, that stuff came first, so 3 assignments later I've been so drained of motivation that I need an hour long break; a break that messes with my plan to write 2 chapters tonight before bed.

But yk what? That's just fine because I have other days where I can make up for it like Friday, where I'd have more time to stay up and crank out the words I need!

WOW this was a lot, but I hope this stuff can help some people in the same boat as me!

I feel like nothing should be able to stop you from wtiting; sometimes we just gotta find ways to fix our schedules/motivations to get it done, and if my explanations can at least inspire other people, that's enough for me

[ede917]

I decided to draw more of my si/oc for Hazbin Hotel: Capper Dubois.

He and Alastor's Mother (Am) first met in 1906 at his favorite diner where she worked as a waitress (that he later bought to give her job security, he's rich and does nice things for people he likes, sue him) when he was 20, she was 25, and Alastor was 6.

They were just good friends until he caught Alastor's father abusing them when Alastor was 13. Capper beat him half to death then threw him out of the house and told him never to come back (if he later went missing and Capper and Alastor had a bonding moment out in the bayou together with nothing but a cinderblock and some rope, well, that's no one's business but their's).

Capper and Am's romance after that was a whirlwind, dancing and singing and painting the town. Alastor (15) even gave her away at their wedding (and if anyone didn't like the idea of a lowly black waitress marrying one of the most powerful men in New Orleans, then they were quick to learn that gators got to eat too).

After Am's death from a brain aneurysm in 1928, Capper fell into depression, just going through the motions of life. The only thing he still found joy in was his son Alastor and his radio broadcast. But when Alastor was shot and killed by a hunter in 1933, Capper completely lost it. He tracked that hunter down and fed him to his own dogs before letting the authorities catch him. He was sentenced to death and given the chair in 1934.

Finding himself in Hell, Capper was quick to reunite with Alastor, the only family he had left (he being one of the few people in all of creation Alastor genuinely cares for). With his son's help, he was able to establish himself as one of Hell's sovereign overlords. Using his experience from his time in the New Orleans underground, he made himself a demon of principles: fair contracts for the souls in his employ, merciless brutality against his enemies, and endless torment to those he genuinely hates (pedophiles, rapists, the hunter, Alastor's father, Valentino) every hated soul claimed, adding another eye to his tail.

Eventually however, he hears about a passion project led by one Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell. A hotel for rehabilitating sinners and getting them into Heaven. Probably the first time in 90 years Capper felt any hope of seeing his wife again.

And so, he became Charlie's first true supporter (aside from Vaggie) providing aid to the hotel in exchange for safe haven for his people on extermination day and the hope of reuniting with Am in Heaven.

And then shortly after the battle with Heaven and the opening of the new hotel . . .

He was betrayed. Murdered on the steps of the hotel he gave so much to defend.

Of course, death isn't always final.

Overall, Capper would say he's fairly happy with how things turned out.

[rorywritesjunk]

(one of these days I'll actually post chapters and other works and not just these train of thought mini fics. I'm almost done with Impel Down and will go into Marineford. I... Needed some angst. Just a little, maybe a sprinkle. There will be a part two.)

pt 2

Sunny and the kids aren't on the ship when Buggy comes home.

Mohji tells him that after he was arrested, she took the kids and left. She needed to think some things over so she returned to the village where they met. Miss Pins has retired but Benji took over the shop. Having Sunny back makes his job so much easier.

Buggy pretends like it doesn't bother him but orders the crew to take him to her. When he's in the privacy of his room he falls to pieces. He had hoped she would have stayed on the ship to welcome him home, but could he blame her? How many years of marriage did they have? How many times has she put up with him? Was she finally through with him?

They arrive a week later. He bursts into the shop, dressed in his best to ask her to return home. Gold is sitting at the table with crayons and paper while Silver is in Sunny's arms as she stands at the front counter, looking over the books. She glances up when she sees him and there's no smile on her face. The kids, however, are thrilled to see their daddy. Sunny passes Silver to him while Gold rushes him, wrapping his tiny arms around one of Buggy's legs, chattering nonstop about the stuff they'd been up to, drawings that he did, and the books mommy read to them.

With both kids in his arms, happy to see their daddy, Buggy turns his attention to his wife with a grin on his face. "So, where's my welcome home kiss?"

"Do you want one?" Sunny asks, arms crossed as she stares back at him. He wonders how angry she really is over this. She had told him to be careful looking for that treasure, to not just go head first into those places, but he didn't listen and managed to come face to face with the damn Marines. When she learned of what happened to her husband she left. No reason to be on the ship without him.

"Of course I do!" Buggy insists. "Why wouldn't I?! I missed you just like you missed me!"

She doesn't humor him with a response and closes the book she has been looking at. "Maybe you should have thought about it before getting yourself arrested."

The calmness in her voice unnerves Buggy. He tightens his hold on the kids, hoping they could do something cute to distract their mom from getting angry at Buggy. He hates it when his wife is angry at him and it doesn't happen often, but when it does he has to pay for it. So he gives her a big grin, shrugging as he holds Silver in his arms.

"Sunny babe, I was doing it for us." He insists. "And maybe there was a hiccup or two in the plan but everything's gonna change! It's gonna be better!"

"Is it?" She asks. "Or are you just going to get arrested again?"

The calmness still bothers him. He tries to think of a response but has none. She's just staring at him, no smile or frown on her face, just a calm, neutral expression that absolutely terrifies him. He shoots a glance at her hands, relieved to see her still wearing her wedding ring, but for how much longer?

"I need a day, Buggy."

"A day? For what?!"

"To think this through."

"Think what through?!" He demands. "What are you talking about?!"

"We can talk later." She sighs. "I'm just tired and I can't do this in front of the kids." She rubs her face and looks him over. "Leave your coat with me so I can fix it."

"Where am I supposed to go?!" Is he being sent away after just reuniting with them? Is this it, the end to almost 15 years of marriage? He got arrested once and she was done?!

"Your ship?"

That was a knife to the heart. His ship. Not theirs. She specifically said his ship. This was it. This has to be the end. He couldn't believe it. He was so distraught, his mind racing, that he didn't hear what she was saying at first. She finally snapped her fingers in front of him after repeating his name multiple times, catching his attention.

"There's room upstairs still." She told him. "Benji doesn't live in the building, he's off with his husband nearby, so I've had the entire top floor for me and the kids. You can stay with us for the night, and if I'm ready to talk we're going to talk, understand?"

He did understand he just didn't want to.

"I'm going to close up shop. Take your coat off and hang it up, Buggy. I'll work on it after dinner."

"So should I come back tomorrow?"

"If you want, but you can stay with us if you want as well." She said, shoulders dropping as she let out a sigh. "We just need to talk."

He really didn't want to but he was nodding. "S-Sure."

[anonnikulaphon]

making up

Timeline: 2024 December 7th, Saturday, 6:32 P.M Location: Spectrum Lounge & Bar, Bangkok. Mood: They're both a little sad Attire: See this post for Anon and this post for Boon With: @boonpiratana

"Hey."

Anon glanced up from where he was staring at his wine glass, the familiar, deep voice of his friend P'Boon drawing him out of his guilty and self-pitying thoughts.

"P'Boon," Anon said, straightening in his seat as he watched the actor hesitate for a moment before settling in the chair opposite him. It had been a good couple of months since Anon had seen his friend in person - of course he kept up with Boon's life on social media, but he had been the one to say they shouldn't talk anymore. "How are you?"

Boon looked at the table, where Anon had already ordered him his favourite beer, as well as a few snacks and appetisers for the table. The actor sighed, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into the pocket before lightly scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm good." Boon said with a nod. "Been busy. New project and all."

"I heard. BL, too?" Anon inquired, one of his eyebrows raising slightly. "Do you... wanna talk about that?"

"Maybe later," Boon said, relaxing back in his seat and picking up his beer, taking a sip, his eyes not leaving Anon's. "I'm more interested in whatever it is you want to talk about. We haven't spoken in a while. So... why am I here, Non?"

Anon sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, a tired expression on his face. Boon couldn't say that he had seen Anon look so... downhearted. Crestfallen. Defeated, even. It didn't suit the heir, who walked around with all the confidence of the world in his stride. "I miss you," Anon finally admitted, his voice soft. "It's been a hard few weeks and... I've needed a friend, really. And I would normally message you but it's my fault we're not talking in the first place."

"Yeah," Boon agreed, crossing his arms defensively, the hurt evident on his face. "For a reason I still can't understand."

"it was a stupid reason, I suppose," Anon said. "But I just... I really wanted things to work with P'Red after his accident. And even though I'd never tell him about us - because of course I would never expose you to anyone - I didn't want to risk lying to the man I love while he was going through such a hard time."

"The memory loss..." Boon softened, watching as Anon rubbed at his temple and nodded in defeat. "He still doesn't remember you, huh?"

"No," Anon replied, his voice quiet. "He doesn't."

"I'm sorry, Non. That's not an easy thing to go through," Boon told him, reaching out to hold onto his friend's hand. Anon glanced at their connected fingers, watching as Boon squeezed his hand in comfort, silently waiting for the other to continue - it appeared he had a lot to get off of his chest.

"Actually... I tried to break up with him."

Boon's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" He asked. "Because he doesn't remember you?"

Anon hesitated to answer, sucking his lower lip into his mouth before he let out yet another sigh, heavier than the last. "Sort of. You see, P'Red believed me after his accident, when I told him that we were in love. It was... it was so nice, P'Boon. It was everything I've ever wanted since I realised my feelings for him all those years ago. But his brother, P'Dan... he knew that something was off between us. And when he found out what I was doing he talked me into calling off the wedding because it wouldn't be fair to keep lying to P'Red."

Boon nodded, even though it didn't need to be said that he had warned Anon of this long before Dan did. If Boon were a lesser man, he'd tell Anon "I told you so" and leave him to wallow in the pity - but he was not. He knew that Anon was suffering, had already realised that Boon had been right - just him acknowledging that their lack of contact had been his fault was enough for Boon to remain by his side.

"But..." Anon continued, finally looking back up at Boon, a bittersweet smile on his face. "P'Red didn't want to break up with me. My plan worked. He fell in love with me. And the most fucked up part is I wish he hadn't - because it was all a lie. And now we're not talking because he's angry and hurt because I tried to call it off and I don't know what to say to win him over... And it's been hard because..."

"You still have to plan the wedding, don't you?" Boon finished when Anon fell silent. The heir nodded, squeezing Boon's hand back before releasing it, sliding it back into his lap.

"Yeah..." Anon nodded. "We have to smile for the camera. Smile in front of our families. But as soon as we're alone, we're back to how we were before the accident... No, actually, this is worse." Anon's voice fell into a whisper. "We don't talk to each other at all, anymore. At least before, even if he insulted me... we at least spoke."

"Silence speaks volumes," Boon quoted, watching as Anon absent-mindedly reached for his wine glass to take a sip. He didn't look drunk, which was good, but the effects of the alcohol must be making him feel more down and tired than usual. There was a droop in his shoulders, as though he burdened a heavy weight, and his usually keen and sharp eyes were half-lidded and puffy. Boon wondered if he had been crying. Anon was great at keeping his feelings together in the public - the press had never seen him cry - but alone at home was a different story. "He's hurting, you're hurting. You need to talk to him, Non. And not just about the wedding - about everything. His accident, his real feelings for you. If you admit that you were wrong, that you made a mistake, you could be redeemed. It won't be easy, but at least you've softened the blow, right?"

Anon set the glass down, once again resting his head in his hands as he nodded along to Boon's words. He knew that the other was right, that the advice he was giving him was the best course of action - and Anon wanted to take it. But - and this was something he'd never admit - he was terrified of what Red's reaction would be. He never thought it could get any worse than swearing or insults - but the silence, the ignoring, the lack of texts and calls, it was killing Anon. And every day he didn't hear from his fiancée, he was instead expecting another call from the hospital, telling him that Red had been in another accident. Anon couldn't be the reason for it - especially since deep down, he suspected he was the reason for the first one too...

"You're right," Anon acknowledged with his head bowed. "I know what I have to do. But... I'm scared, P'Boon. Scared of making things worse..."

"You have to take that leap, Non," Boon encouraged him. "There's no other way around it. Otherwise, what you're going through now is going to be the rest of your life with him - and you don't want that."

"No, no, I don't," Anon shook his head. "This- this is really good advice, P'Boon. Thank you. Thank you so much." Anon told the other, gazing up into his eyes. "And I'm sorry I shut you out. I shouldn't have done that. You're my friend, and I was selfish." Another smile crossed Anon's face - one that didn't reach his eyes. "I still am. Sitting here, asking you to come and listen to my sob story - you didn't have to stay here with me, but you did. And I appreciate it."

"You know, a lot of your problems could have been solved easily if you chose me instead of Red," Boon smiled cheekily, drawing out a little chuckle from Anon, who also rolled his eyes. "But the heart wants what it wants, right? Plus, I'm totally over you now."

Anon managed a laugh, the heir shaking his head. It was the first time he had felt happy in weeks - everything going on, the whiplash between the difference in his personal and public lives, had taken such a toll on their heir. Even his grandfather was worried, noting how Anon had lost some weight, which Anon brushed off as a result of the wedding planning. He didn't want anyone in his or Red's family to know they were unhappy.

"I needed to talk to you, P'Boon. Really, thank you for coming. I was going crazy, without a friend. And things are only getting crazier with the wedding being so close." Anon explained.

"Have you set a date yet?"

"We have, though who knows if we're going to go through with it. But, just in case it does, I'd love for you to be there..." Anon reached into his pocket, bringing out a shiny cream envelope. It was sealed with a red wax stamp and had his and Red's government name - Daeng - etched on the front in cursive. He handed it over to Boon, who opened it immediately to find their wedding invitation inside. "It might be weird inviting an ex - but I don't know how I'd manage if my best friend wasn't with me. I hope you can come, P'Boon. I hope it's not too much to ask of you to be there."

Boon ignored the slight pang in his heart as he carefully slid the invitation back in the envelope - though, he did notice the feeling of pain wasn't as strong as it used to be. Maybe... maybe he was truly getting over Anon, for good this time. Maybe now they could just be friends, and nothing more. "Of course I'll attend," Boon promised. "I'll be there for you Anon. Now come on - we have two months of life to catch up on."

"Yes," Anon agreed, lifting up his drink. He was in a considerably better mood now, the sadness in his eyes still prevalent, but not overpowering his entire being as it had before. "I need to know about how a certain closet case ended up as the lead in a BL film. Do tell, P'Boon."

"I'll let the closet case comment slide because you're upset," Boon teased, kicking Anon's foot lightly under the table. "But... yeah. Let me tell you all about it..."

[ end ]

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Short ones today!

Anonymous asked:

Is Yandere Todd invited to Wallace and Mobile’s wedding?

I don’t think so, and the regular Todd isn’t invited either… Why would he be? He is just one guy that Wallace hooked up with a couple of times over the course of 3 days, albeit kind of a clingy and dangerous one; I wouldn’t be surprised if Wallace forgets about him by the time he and Mobile get married :(

That doesn’t mean that Todd won’t show up to sit in the corner, stalk them and even cry a little of course. And if this is Yandere Todd, he might even consider ruining Wallace’s special day, but maybe he’ll be smarter and just watch for now. For now..

Anonymous asked:

No question, just wanted to say you draw bulges in a way that lets them live rent free in my head. Art work very good

Anonymous asked:

Silver's bulge my goodness... He's a big, healthy boy ❤️ and Lilia...... Can't even eat with his mouth closed 😔 Silver please get him with the spray bottle!!

This is about yesterday’s comic! Thank you so much for appreciating the bulge, Anons <3 Ironically, this is one of the things that I consider to be tricky to draw, so I am very happy it looks good… I’d say that I didn’t intend it to be noticeable, but then again I redrew it 3 times lol

Silver is a big, healthy boy indeed… And he’s going to get even healthier if he shares a meal with Lilia- *gets sprayed nooo*

Anonymous asked:

WTH is Lilia eating? I thought he was munching on entrails here…also I snack like this, Silver, whachyu tryna say?

It’s just spaghetti~ Ice-cold gross slippery delicious spaghetti!

Silver sounds like someone who had never had spaghetti out of the fried at 3 am in his life before, and it shows. Lilia has to fix that.

Anonymous asked:

never really though t of shipping vil and jake unironically until i saw ur fanart of them- you have a mega big brain and im here for it

Thank you so much, Anon! These two are wonderful together, I am very happy you liked how I draw them <3

Anonymous asked:

https://www.tumblr.com/pugfarts/82974480433/i-made-an-aoba-cake-for-my-wifes-birthday: But Idia.

Yes.

Anonymous asked:

So, it’s the Epel and Rook anon again and I just saw the newest pic on kofi. All I can think of is Rook comforting him but having a creepy, happy look on his face. And maybe later, seeing how vulnerable Epel is, he takes a little detour on the pretense of “comforting” him and….

Another notch in his hunter’s belt.

I’m so sorry, my mind is a dark place.

I am so happy you like this idea so much, Anon! Thank you so so much!

As always, you are completely right. Holding Epel’s shivering body, embracing him so tightly and hearing his intense heartbeat as well as his quiet pathetic whimpers, this is going to make Rook lose track of time for sure. He’ll make sure to comfort the boy in the best way possible~ And leave poor Epel traumatised lol

[all-pacas]

we know what the hospital rumor mill thinks about house, but what do they say about the fellows? especially after the entire hospital finds out that chase the flirt is hooking up with cameron the noble in supply closets?

I think we largely know what people's reputations are, thanks to Amber in 97 Seconds.

Foreman is considered House's protege, which is not a positive. We see in Kids that other doctors and Nurse Brenda find him entitled and annoying. We hear from Cuddy that he is unhireable. He's arrogant, he's unfriendly. He dated a nurse for a while in S3, and she broke up with him because he was a total ass (his romantic Valentine's Day present was "go to college in Boston"; when she was upset he had the all time killer "I am not taking you back if you act like this :(" line, to which Wendy had to point out bitch, I'm upset, I'm not begging for you). In general, Foreman's kinda… socially awkward. He's really good at playing the part, he knows how he's supposed to act, but it's kind of fake, you know? Not in Chase's suck up charm way, but in the way you can kind of tell Foreman doesn't mean it. He's also, uh, very good at malpractice? I mean, they all do it, it's unfair Foreman gets singled out. But he definitely gets caught more. He killed a woman. He ruined a Huntington's Trial. His malpractice is kind of public (which is also probably why he alone gets stuck with the unhireable reputation).

From Amber, we know that a) Cameron has a reputation for compassion and caring and wanting to help people and b) "this is why people find you annoying." We know in S5 for example that Cameron runs community outreach programs, she takes on extra work, she's helpful! But people do seem to find her annoying. My theory is she's sort of like one of those vegans who love to tell you how great being vegan is and how you should be vegan, and you're like Cameron. That's great. I'm glad that works for you. I don't want to do 16 hours of overtime feeding the homeless this week.

As established, Chase is an asskissing nepobaby opportunist who will screw anyone over to help himself. He's a flirt — although (I actually like this) the show actually does show all his hookups as being fairly polite and both-sided, like, there's no "ugh, I can't believe I slept with that fuckboy!"; whenever Chase is shown with a one night stand they're both like "haha what was your name again? lol see ya!" — even in the "three hookup wedding" he's on perfectly good terms with all three of the women after. Which is nice. He's still a dumb whore opportunist, but he doesn't treat women badly. Good for him.

It's a little harder to say what later teams reputations are, because over time the show shifts focus kinda. Park absolutely has a terrible reputation — she's the Weird Resident Who Punched Her Boss. Taub seems to float around inexplicably popular and well liked despite fucking more nurses than Chase does. Kutner was apparently considered enough of a liability that Cuddy tried to draw a rare line to keep him from getting hired. Everyone hated Amber. I feel like Thirteen's reputation is True Neutral: no one knows a goddamn thing about her, but she never does anything to really piss them off, either.

especially after the entire hospital finds out that chase the flirt is hooking up with cameron the noble in supply closets?

I think we know this too! Namely, in Fetal Position, when the news is out, Cuddy and Foreman both make a point of speaking to Cameron and Chase about it. And what they both say is "Chase is gonna break Cameron's heart. Oh no, poor Cameron. She's gonna be so hurt." And in Foreman's case: "And that will be so annoying for me." (Foreman is such a hater and I love him)

And of course the irony is that no, Chase is the one who got hurt. Repeatedly! But it says a lot about people's perceptions of them both. Chase is assumed to be unfeeling and uncaring. Cameron, everyone figures, is probably already head over heels in love. I bet most people thought he seduced her.

[stesierra]

Find the Word tag!

Tagged by @yesireadbooks. The words are: Space, Down, Special and Cry. I'm drawing from Court Phoenix.

I'll tag @mysticstarlightduck and @avrablake. Your words are cancer, death, knife and sweet.

Space AND down

I sat upon my stool for hours, watching the lordly skitter up to the throne like shorebirds in little flocks of three or four. They kept their distance and threw themselves down on the floor. I’d been rude without realizing it, if that was how you were supposed to greet the sagan. Perhaps he had overlooked my impertinence because of the firebird in my arms. Now she perched upon my legs as if I were a throne. At least she didn't sink her ivory talons into me. A real eagle would have.

Sitting there with nothing to do grew tedious, and my head hurt so badly and my muscles ached so fiercely that it was all I could focus on. I was close enough to the sagan to overhear his conversations, but my misery left no room for curiousity.

No room, that is, until Chujulan arrived. She walked in that empty space every else left alone, a sword girded at her hip. She crossed that undrawn line. And her bow to the sagan was a dip of her torso. No more.

The sagan beckoned her closer. When she stood close enough to touch, he said, “Chujulan. How fares our city?”

She said, “She is well. The herd is fleet, the ferd is strong, and her people are not hungry. You summoned me, Father? The ferd awaits your command.”

“I have no need of the ferd tonight. My commands are for you alone.”

She nodded. “Speak them, and they will be done.”

He steepled his fingers on his lap. “I wish you to go and speak with the Judge in my name. That is my will.”

“Of course, Father. What has Behil done now?”

“She has been quiet as of late. I am curious about her reasons. She sends me innocent letters, but no has seen her except the prisoners delivered to her.”

Chujulan planted her feet and squared her shoulders. “And she’s the last thing they see. I will see to it tonight.”

“Learn why she has secluded herself. And bring me answers.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, earning another bow from his daughter.

She strode away, her back stiff, but before she could vanish out into the hall, she noticed me sitting with Hes on my lap. A moment later, she stood over me, hands on her hips. She murmured, “There you are. On display, I see.”

Special

When she stopped in front of me, hands set again on her hips, she said, “You’re an elemental child.”

I bristled. “I’m an adult woman. Isn’t that why you tried to recruit me?”

Her humorless smile stung me. “Adult, yes. But you’re an elemental child.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” The term was unfamiliar.

“A fireling? Born when one of your village men spills his sperm on dying embers?”

I stared at her. “That's not how it works. At all.”

“Found swaddled in ashes after a widow hurls herself onto her husband's pyre?”

“We bury our dead.” And my mother and father were alive and hated me.

She pinched her chin between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know much about it, I admit. No one has seen one of your kind in a very long time. The landbound claim they hide you from us, but I know scholars who insist that elemental children don't exist outside of the imagination of bored farmers.”

I hugged Hes closer. “Do you believe them?”

A royal eyebrow lifted. “You are currently on fire.”

I glanced down at my ruined clothes and the pleased fledgling igniting them. I admitted, “That’s happened a lot more since Hes showed up.”

“I imagine so. Well, at Skyfire we will have to commission some fireproof clothing.” She nodded once, as if this was easily done.

“Some of your scholars must believe in us, or you wouldn't know what I am.”

She shrugged. “Well, the legends are inconsistent, especially in regards to how you come about. The worst I've heard says your sort are demons.”

“Demons,” I echoed.

“Mmhm. You hide as humans to trick women into wedding you and giving birth to more of your kind.”

“I'm a woman.” Even if I wedded another girl, there would be no pregnancy.

Her eyes crinkled up, and for a moment she could've been any of my older cousins. “So you say.”

“I am a woman.”

She smirked. “Another story says that once upon a time, your ancestors bedded monsters, and their taint sleeps in your blood and wakes every seventh generation.”

“Why seven?”

“It's just what everyone says.”

“Everyone in the city seems to say a lot of stupid things.”

She laughed at me. “If it's better, another claims you're all godlings.”

“It's not better.” Spirits and ghosts were everywhere, all fishers knew that. But none of us were very big on this idea of gods.

She continued, “When you landbound fall on hard times, you pray for food and good weather. And the gods grant it, but only if you agree to raise their bastard offspring.”

This was ridiculous. “First, my parents aren't gods.” Just very, very disappointed in me.

“Not your human ones, of course. The stories are clear.”

“None of them.”

“And second?”

I hadn't actually formulated a second complaint. I bit my lip, staring at the back of Hes' head.

Somehow, the princess’s voice didn't sound mocking. “Are none of those stories even a little right?”

“Not yet,” I said, still stung.

Chujulan's lips pursed, and her arms fell loose at her sides. Then she said, “My mother used to tell me, when she tucked me into bed, of little landbound boys and girls who were born magic.”

Her mother, the empress? I was intrigued in spite of myself. “Did she?”

“She said it was a gift, given when an element falls in love.”

“With who?”

“Perhaps a brave and clever woman. Perhaps a kind and beautiful man. I suspect fire and water would have very different loves.”

I carded my hands through Hes' contour feathers. “That's sweet, princess, but I was born like this. I think we all are.”

Chujulan said, “Of course. It's a blessing, not a courting gift. Fire cannot sire or birth a baby, but it can leave a kiss upon its brow. One of your parents must be very special, indeed.”

I thought of Father, who was clever and kind, nimble with a needle and thread, and always the one to tend the fire. It wasn't what my people believed, but I could see it. It would be easy to fall in love with Father. The thought, and the knowledge that I was leaving without his blessing, hurt. “That doesn’t sound like a city story.”

“It’s not. My mother doesn’t know any.”

Cry

When we reached the city, the deer-herds helped me get down without losing the vulture. I handed my doe off to them and followed the falconers up the ramp.

At the top, I faltered. I waded through deep water, something dragging my limbs to a crawl. The bird in my arms cringed.

I pushed forward, and the sensation vanished. But sweat lingered at the back of neck. No one else said anything, so I kept my mouth shut. It was just one more weird thing about Skyfire.

The vulture became a lead weight in my shaking arms. My hand cramped from holding its head, but if I let go, it would whip around and gouge my eyes out, and Hes would murder it. She still circled, uttering shrill cries. Jealous brat.

Another hard moment struck as we neared the menagerie. For a second, I swam in sand, drowned in rock, and something stuck my feet to the pavement. The vulture tried to thrash, but I held it in place as I stumbled forward. I told myself I had imagined everything as I caught my breath. Nearby, the palace gleamed, red as the vulture’s blood.

Nergi opened the door for me, and I carried the vulture inside, ignoring Hes’ demanding cries. He told me, “Put it down in that corner. We have surgeons who serve the menagerie. They’ll splint the wing and tend those wounds. By tonight, I’ll have an enclosure ready for it.”

“Thank you,” I said, rubbing my tired eyes.

“Go sleep,” he advised. “And get your phoenix under control.”

Easier said than done, I thought. But as I stepped out onto the street, she dived from the sky and landed at my feet, crying sadly.

I shook a finger at her. “You’re trouble. How long have you been able to fly? Did you just enjoy making me carry you around?”

She strutted on the pavement, fluttering her wings, and then leapt at me. I caught her and let her climb onto my arm.

“Next time I go on an outing, you’re staying home,” I told her. “That poor vulture.”

She hissed, unrepentant, and took off again. As I walked back to our house, she circled overhead, watching over me.

Tag list for everything

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Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

[avimour]

What drew Vaz and Crulexs to their love interests? Was there an instant connection between them, or was it more of a gradual build-up? What's their favorite things about their respective LIs?

Bonus question: Is there anything about their romances that went differently in your canon than it did in-game?

love time love time!! very on point seeing which holiday is coming up!

hmm i'll do a little doodle for each of them as well, just for fun. lost the desire to draw my boys.. sad. maybe ill do some other piece this week

everything under the cut!!

Vaz: Well. You see. To say Vaz had an easy time romancing anyone is absolutely mad men talk. Everywhere Vaz went for comfort, he either ended up being used, failure in general, or turned away for another...even before the whole, losing his memories thing.

All my durges have had a fling with Gortash. So Vaz, naturally, had a thing with Gortash for a time. But uh...well. That thing was incredibly one-sided and Gortash would use it for his own benefit. Vaz never got any pussy or kisses from him, to put it frankly. But he did do a lot of lil missions for Gortash anyways.

Vaz's second fling was with a tiefling named Levi. The two were on the nautiloid together and everything. Levi heard him out on his dark urges and ushered him into doing the Right thing instead of what the urges wanted. It was a match made in heaven! ...Until the tiefling party. Where Vaz clumsily wandered around without an idea what to do, and his dear friend Levi slipped away with Gale instead of him. The next morning he saw them kiss and he went into the seven stages of denial immediately. Both of them ended up as cellmates so...yay!

Vaz's third fling was with Halsin. It uh...didn't go too well. Vaz was pulled in by all the druidic talk and he just wanted to feel normal. He just wanted to feel like a normal druid too. But it didn't work out. They partook in one sexual encounter and it ended up with Vaz crying and a bad experience for the both of them. They didn't talk a lot after it and Vaz practically avoided everyone for days afterwards.

And finally... Vaz's last fling. The Emperor. Yeah, you can probably guess how that turned out. They both managed to get through their sexual encounter though! Vaz enjoyed being safe from his urges inside the dream world (??) with the Emperor. The Emperor enjoyed tightening their bond together so Vaz wouldn't turn on him or, really, convince Levi to turn against him. And just to exert a bit more control over Vaz, the Emperor lured several of their companions to see the aftermath. And then willed away their memories of the encounter. Only to send Vaz into a breakdown a few days later with the thoughts of 'Has he ever wiped my memory?'. He didn't go back for seconds with calamari.

The biggest departure from the original questions EVER!!!!! YIPPEE!!

Anyways, next.

Crulexs: His name is an anagram for cruel sex. This was not on purpose, but I've taken it to heart. Everything about him is related to his 'cruel sex'. He is the embodiment of toxic masculinity. And, in that toxic masculinity, certain types of people are drawn into him.

Gortash was incredibly drawn into him. I have a fic in the works (in my mind) of just how drawn into Crulexs this man was. The big burly scaly cleric who looked down on him? Yeah that got him. He had a big stupid crush on Crulexs that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he tried to crush it (ha). Thankfully, it wasn't unrequited. However he found that out in the worse way possible. With Crulexs kidnapping him and taking him into the Bhaalist Temple in order to wed the both of them together. Under the blessing of Bane as well. What's a little bit of tyranny without a forced wedding to strengthen a union? He would've stayed down in that temple if it wasn't for his bodyguard, Karlach, saving him. (This is a retelling of Persephone's Abduction because i am literally insane.)

Of course, Gortash still saw Crulexs. Just, not bound in the Bhaalist temple and having to do weird blood rituals with him. Wasn't his thing, you see. They're still married, in the Bhaalist traditional manner, whatever the fuck that means.

Unfortunately...it all had to end somehow.

After his betrayal to the hands of Orin, after his memories had all left him, Crulexs was a different man. Even Bhaal saw him differently, though he wasn't...practically looking at him. An avenger against all that was evil, Crulexs roamed the land looking for those to strike down. Along the way, he meet a variety of companions, and specifically, he met Wyll Ravengard, the man who could win his heart.

It wasn't a challenge or anything. Most of the people that knew Crulexs weren't...really wanting to kiss him. The others who did were mostly wanting him because he was..a big, burly scaly paladin. Most, however, were put off by the whole silent and toxic masc bit.

Wyll, however, saw in him a lot more than that. He saw someone with similar ideals to him, and someone who was just as devoted. He managed to spring up more...less toxic masculinity into Crulexs as well. Little poems that Wyll would write hidden in his tent. And would do his best into slipping into the silliest places that Crulexs would find them. Into his boots, into his gloves, into his bedroll. In a book he would pick up, because he picked up every book he found, and skim the pages of.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it was Wyll behind them. And the little poems cleared up some of the dark clouds of Crulexs' soul. He started to actively seek out Wyll while at camp, instead of simply staring into the fire. Began to sit with him as the nights wore on. Sometimes even slept outside his tent like the guard dog he is.

[rlainarin]

/BURSTS THROUGH YOUR WALL LIKE THE KOOL AID MAN/ SIR I GOT QUESTIONS 1, 3, 13 for Angharad and Zevvo my beloveds

9 and 18 for Dianthe and Fenris please and thank! Also biting you

AUGH am bitten

ANGHARAD AND ZEVVO

Who first brought up the option of marriage? Was it an easy topic?

ok ok brought up is a funny one here because they do a really good job getting engaged without actually explicitly saying it. Zev does his whole earring song and dance, Angharad counters with a gift of a bracer which is very dwarf-engagement-coded

and so the first person who actually brings up that they're getting married is Oghren. taking the shit out of the whole idea of marriage and oh oopsydoodle guess we need to actually communicate now. damn it and Leli just let us out of the "TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS" cupboard

Show us their engagement and/or wedding rings!

AUGH ok so. I had a ring that I was going to use with my cosplay for The Earring but it broke. just snapped in two. thankfully the boyf does jewelry so it can and will be fixed but at this exact moment it's not in a photographable state. ANYWAY it's a wreath of embossed gold roses.

the engagement bracer is made by Wade and it's embossed dragon leather with embroidery patterns copying the Dalish Gloves. and it has a hidden knife pocket of COURSE.

Show us their outfits!

ok ok I may come in later and add drawings but I wanna make sure I don't forget this ask and leave it languishing

so they get married with about twelve hours of notice right after the Battle of Denerim at the big party, which makes the outfits kind of thrown together. Leli does her best with giving the grooms flower crowns but fundamentally I think both of them have borrowed a nice coat off a short, butch human noblewoman and otherwise they're just wearing what's clear and intact.

And there's finally a proper occasion for Zevran to wear his nice Antivan leather boots. :)

DIANTHE AND FENRIS

Show us a mood/stimboard of their wedding’s general aesthetic.

Oh I've got better than a moodboard, I've got a whole video clip of their wedding aesthetic!

Did anyone oppose the marriage? Did they speak then, or did they just forever hold their peace?

Running w/ main canon where Dianthe is an Amell (Not That Onetm)and not a Hawke, yeah her family was pretty against it! She was supposed to marry wealthy, someone who would support the family and protect her as an apostate.

But when they flee Kirkwall, Fenris leaves a note that they should take over the old mansion by way of a dowry, and that goes a long way towards smoothing it over.

[ongolecharles]

DAILY SCRIPTURE READINGS (DSR) 📚 Group, Wed April 16th, 2025 ... Wednesday of Holy Week, Year C

Reading 1

---------

Isaiah 50:4-9a

The Lord GOD has given me

a well-trained tongue,

That I might know how to speak to the weary

a word that will rouse them.

Morning after morning

he opens my ear that I may hear;

And I have not rebelled,

have not turned back.

I gave my back to those who beat me,

my cheeks to those who plucked my beard;

My face I did not shield

from buffets and spitting.

The Lord GOD is my help,

therefore I am not disgraced;

I have set my face like flint,

knowing that I shall not be put to shame.

He is near who upholds my right;

if anyone wishes to oppose me,

let us appear together.

Who disputes my right?

Let him confront me.

See, the Lord GOD is my help;

who will prove me wrong?

Responsorial Psalm

-------------

Psalm 69:8-10, 21-22, 31 and 33-34

R. (14c) Lord, in your great love, answer me.

For your sake I bear insult,

and shame covers my face.

I have become an outcast to my brothers,

a stranger to my mother's sons,

because zeal for your house consumes me,

and the insults of those who blaspheme you fall upon me.

R. Lord, in your great love, answer me.

Insult has broken my heart, and I am weak,

I looked for sympathy, but there was none;

for consolers, not one could I find.

Rather they put gall in my food,

and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.

R. Lord, in your great love, answer me.

I will praise the name of God in song,

and I will glorify him with thanksgiving:

"See, you lowly ones, and be glad;

you who seek God, may your hearts revive!

For the LORD hears the poor,

and his own who are in bonds he spurns not."

R. Lord, in your great love, answer me.

Verse Before the Gospel

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Hail to you, our King;

you alone are compassionate with our errors.

Or

Hail to you, our King, obedient to the Father;

you were led to your crucifixion like a gentle lamb to the slaughter.

Gospel

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Matthew 26:14-25

One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot,

went to the chief priests and said,

"What are you willing to give me

if I hand him over to you?"

They paid him thirty pieces of silver,

and from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over.

On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread,

the disciples approached Jesus and said,

"Where do you want us to prepare

for you to eat the Passover?"

He said,

"Go into the city to a certain man and tell him,

'The teacher says, "My appointed time draws near;

in your house I shall celebrate the Passover with my disciples.""'

The disciples then did as Jesus had ordered,

and prepared the Passover.

When it was evening,

he reclined at table with the Twelve.

And while they were eating, he said,

"Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me."

Deeply distressed at this,

they began to say to him one after another,

"Surely it is not I, Lord?"

He said in reply,

"He who has dipped his hand into the dish with me

is the one who will betray me.

The Son of Man indeed goes, as it is written of him,

but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed.

It would be better for that man if he had never been born."

Then Judas, his betrayer, said in reply,

"Surely it is not I, Rabbi?"

He answered, "You have said so."

***

FOCUS AND LITURGY OF THE WORD

Today’s gospel from Matthew mirrors some of yesterday’s Last Supper account by John. Do you ever wonder why Jesus said to this intimate gathering of friends, “… one of you will betray me“? I do. I think there are a few options for what may have led him to say that.

A. Was he trying to motivate Judas to somehow change course? He says a bit later, “The Son of Man indeed goes, as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed.” Jesus knew the Father‘s plan had to be implemented in order to save humankind, but still, maybe somehow Judas could have extracted himself from the situation and the crucifixion could have come about through different circumstances.

B. Maybe he wanted to give Judas an opportunity to confess and repent?

C. Was he just speaking out of pain and distress and disappointment? And when Judas acted just as confused as everyone else about who the betrayer could be, Jesus’ crushing disappointment in Judas had to have been only magnified.

Imagine finding out that a dear, trusted friend had told authorities (who have trumped up, unjustified charges against you and evil intent) where to find you, all the while knowing you had done nothing wrong. Think of how painful that would be. The dread and sadness you would feel would be even worse because a chosen friend was aiding and abetting those who were out to kill you. The emotions would be swirling in your psyche, especially in Jesus’ case because he knew exactly what was going to happen to him.

I think Jesus said, “… one of you will betray me,” due to a combination of B and C above. I do think he wanted to offer Judas the opportunity to come clean and be forgiven. But I also think possibly the stress he was under just spilled out of him as he thought about how the agony that would soon follow was being assisted by his friend and follower. John’s account does say Jesus was deeply troubled.

Looking out my back window this morning, as spring tries desperately to break through, my eyes were drawn to a particular bush that made me think of the mental pain and chaos Jesus must have been going through that night. There is no better way to describe the huge shrub other than tormented and tangled. Its branches are growing every which way, criss-crossing and choking each other. It also made me think of Jesus’ crown of thorns. Although it doesn’t have thorns itself, it looks dry and prickly and painful. It’s a mess.

In past years, like most shrubs, trees and flower beds, that forsythia has magnified the glory of God and the splendor and miracle that is spring with its dainty, bright yellow flowers. But the last few years it has sadly lost its way. It is not comforting to look at.

Our minds and bodies can resemble that tangled shrub when we suffer pain and distress, like Jesus was experiencing in that moment. But just as Jesus clung to hope and his Father’s love to get him through the terrible events that were about to happen, so can we.

We plan to cut our forsythia down to its base, fertilize it, and allow it to start anew. And next year, when its fresh, fewer shoots yield yellow blooms and green leaves, it will remind me once again of the new life we have in Jesus through his death and resurrection.

***

SAINT OF THE DAY

Saint Bernadette Soubirous

(January 7, 1844 – April 16, 1879)

Saint Bernadette Soubirous’ Story

Bernadette Soubirous was born in 1844, the first child of an extremely poor miller in the town of Lourdes in southern France. The family was living in the basement of a dilapidated building when on February 11, 1858, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to Bernadette in a cave above the banks of the Gave River near Lourdes. Bernadette, 14 years old, was known as a virtuous girl though a dull student who had not even made her first Holy Communion. In poor health, she had suffered from asthma from an early age.

There were 18 appearances in all, the final one occurring on the feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, July 16. Although Bernadette’s initial reports provoked skepticism, her daily visions of “the Lady” brought great crowds of the curious. The Lady, Bernadette explained, had instructed her to have a chapel built on the spot of the visions. There, the people were to come to wash in and drink of the water of the spring that had welled up from the very spot where Bernadette had been instructed to dig.

According to Bernadette, the Lady of her visions was a girl of 16 or 17 who wore a white robe with a blue sash. Yellow roses covered her feet, a large rosary was on her right arm. In the vision on March 25 she told Bernadette, “I am the Immaculate Conception.” It was only when the words were explained to her that Bernadette came to realize who the Lady was.

Few visions have ever undergone the scrutiny that these appearances of the Immaculate Virgin were subject to. Lourdes became one of the most popular Marian shrines in the world, attracting millions of visitors. Miracles were reported at the shrine and in the waters of the spring. After thorough investigation, Church authorities confirmed the authenticity of the apparitions in 1862.

During her life, Bernadette suffered much. She was hounded by the public as well as by civic officials until at last she was protected in a convent of nuns. Five years later, she petitioned to enter the Sisters of Notre Dame of Nevers. After a period of illness she was able to make the journey from Lourdes and enter the novitiate. But within four months of her arrival she was given the last rites of the Church and allowed to profess her vows. She recovered enough to become infirmarian and then sacristan, but chronic health problems persisted. She died on April 16, 1879, at the age of 35. Bernadette Soubirous was canonized in 1933.

Reflection

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Millions of people have come to the spring Bernadette uncovered for healing of body and spirit, but she found no relief from ill health there. Bernadette moved through life, guided only by blind faith in things she did not understand—as we all must do from time to time.

***

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