#i even said to my brother that i think hes like an illusion or something snd is already dead

[sweetteaanddragons]

So it turns out I did manage the Maedhros in Troy AU! A gift for both you and for @catcas22 who has created so much absolutely gorgeous art for this AU. (To anyone who enjoys this snippet, I highly recommend checking out the art here, as well as everything else catcas22 has created! For anyone who wants an introduction to this AU, click here.)

(Zeus's dialogue taken from Epic: The Musical. Warnings for references to fall-of-Troy typical violence.)

. . .

Between the thunder and the way the looming clouds kept forming in the shape of eagles, Maedhros was pretty sure this ‘Zeus’ was a maia of Manwe. It was one of the only things he was sure of at the moment; he had gone from the dark, tangled woods of Doriath to a room overlooking a burning city in the blink of an eye. For a single moment, the Music of the world had held steady at least, felt almost as it should be - and then it had crashed on into wholly unfamiliar strains.

It could just be some glamour called up by the Enemy, of course. An illusion, meant to trick him into killing his own men. When the maia had appeared and urged him to turn from the window and face his foe, telling him he must not hesitate to kill an enemy unlike any he had faced before, he had been almost sure of it. He would be led to something that looked foul, and in truth it would be one of his few remaining brothers, and the maia would try to force them to fight. He had been convinced of it.

Looking down at the infant in the crib, he was far less sure of it now. If this was an illusion hiding one of his brothers, meant to provoke him into attacking, it seemed an . . . odd choice. To say the least.

The thunder crackled pointedly.

“This is a baby,” he said flatly.

“This is the son of Troy’s very own Prince Hector,” Zeus countered.

This meant nothing to him. Less than nothing.

Even if it hadn’t, he struggled to think of anyone the maia could have said the child was the son of that would have made the prospect of more blood on his hands even vaguely tempting.

. . . This is the son of Angband’s very own king Morgoth? Maybe? Possibly?

Even that would not change the fact that this looked very much like a normal baby. Small. Vulnerable. Face twitching with displeasure as he started to wake from the screams pouring in from the city.

He looked a little like Caranthir had as a child. Caranthir, who -

“A baby,” he repeated sharply.

“Know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger.”

Maedhros was not aware of anything he had done to anyone related to a Troy or a Prince Hector. If he had, however - well, he had been chasing after Dior’s sons to try and save them. He hadn’t been under any illusions about what their thoughts would be on him once they were old enough to draw swords.

(How far away were they now? How cold? Was this all just a trap to slow him down?)

“One fueled by rage as you’re consumed by age. If you don’t end him now, you’ll have no one left to save.”

He had pitifully little left to save already. However:

“I’m an elf,” he reminded the maia. “My age is the last thing I’m concerned with.”

For just a moment, the maia, bewilderingly, looked confused. This didn’t stop him from pressing onward. “He will burn your house and throne,” the maia insisted.

“I don’t have those anymore - “

“This is the will of the gods,” the maia intoned.

That hadn’t worked on him even when the advice he was being given was a lot more sensible than this.

“The blood on your hands is something you won’t lose.”

True, but -

“All you can choose is whose.”

Maedhros looked what he was now very sure was a fallen maia of Manwe. He looked at the baby. 

He unsheathed his sword.

“Truth,” he agreed, and promptly stabbed Zeus in the eye.

The maia howled.

Maedhros used his false hand to scoop up the baby as best he could and made a run for it.

. . .

Outside the windows in the corridor he had run into, the city was burning. The fires might not last long; a storm was brewing fast and fierce above.

Maedhros just wanted to get out. He didn’t know who was fighting or why; he couldn’t be sure what was real and what was illusion. If any of these men were his, they were almost certainly the invaders, but he couldn’t be sure. Best to just make a sling out of the baby’s blanket to secure him and get out. Best to keep moving. Best to stay out of things. Best -

Best to examine what, exactly, that soldier thought he was doing, chasing a toddler with a drawn sword.

And what that soldier thought he was doing, ripping an infant out of what must be the child’s sister’s arms and trying to throw the child out a window.

And, for that matter, why that soldier had decided the most critical opponent in reach was an unarmed woman and why he had decided to begin this attack by grabbing at her belt. Or why that one was dragging a sobbing girl down the street by her hair -

Most of these investigations were carried out via his sword. One long range examination required the assistance of a spear borrowed from a previous investigation.

(All of these soldiers were the ones attacking the city. He knew all too well what it was to be on both sides of these battles, but if this truly was an illusion - if his people were anywhere here - )

(Then they weren’t the ones defending the city.)

(But if there was any truth to this illusion - if this was not an illusion -)

(This was orc work. And however monstrous he had become, he would not stand for it.)

(He would not let himself live to become a man monstrous enough to stand for it.)

. . .

(He understood this.)

(He did not quite understand how this led to him standing once more on a stormy shore, staring at a ship he intended to steal, with a crowd of mostly women and children behind him.)

(He was not sure if this counted as an improvement over Alqualonde.)

(this is me throwing ideas at a wall. I am not expecting you to write all of them; I will be thrilled if you write any of them) A Maedhros-in-Troy story? Queen's Thief time travel fic where Irene is the one time traveling? Clone Wars time loop? Follow up to Nerdanel-petitions-for-remarriage-as-a-coded-message? An outsider-perspective follow up to "For the City Sweetly Whispers"? A snippet of Maglor & Maedhros raising Elrond & Elros, like singing lessons or telling a bedtime story or something? Minimum-Height-Requirement-Batfam decorating for Christmas? I know you've done each of the sons of Feanor as the last surviving brother, but I don't think you've written Celebrimbor as last surviving descendant, so you could do that?

I think probably I should stop for now but I might come back and pester you with more ideas later, if that's okay with you

Thank you so much for the excellent prompts! I really, really want to write the Maedhros-in-Troy one, but as MegMarch has been firmly resistant to listening to Epic, I am not sure if it would be a good gift for her. I may have to write it anyway, though . . .

Several of the other prompts are also tugging at me - I will definitely add them to the list!

(Baby Celebrimbor as high king of the Noldor AU, here we come!)

[thebloggingfox]

This game hurts my heart.

[ladymercysletters]

Aegon the Soft

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count : 1474

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I haven't written in years so please bear with this. I just have some very soft feelings for the Targ siblings. All they need is a hug I SWEAR! anyways, hope you like it

When Aegon first married, he tried to be around you as little as possible. It was best that way, everyone else who should technically love him in his life never has; why would you be any different. The bedding ceremony had been performed; he had done his duty. He must only put a few heirs in you and that would be that. He finished that thought with the downing of his drink. Slamming the cup down on the table his men cheered around him, filling his cup as the merriment continued.

The hour was late, or early – who knew, when Aegon and his men finally dragged themselves back to the Red Keep. Sober knights greeted them and took the prince back to his rooms, depositing him on his bed.

“My Wife! Bring my wife to me!” he shouted, lolling about on his sheets and he struggled to stand.

“My prince, the hour is late an…”

“I know the hour. I said now!”

__________________________________________________________

Was he on a ship. He must be on a ship. His stomach rolled and churned so much it must be the waves on the ocean. Blinking blearily into the sunlight he vaguely felt fingers running through his hair. Aegon finally managed to focus his eyes on his bedside table, and the jug of water placed on it. The soft touch continued to caress his forehead and brush through the silver strands falling in front of his eyes.

“Good morning husband. How are you feeling this morning?” Aegon blinked and his mind cleared slightly. His wife was in his bed. You were stroking his hair from his face and asking if he was well? Thoughts flew through his head and as he jolted from the knowledge you were right behind him, his stomach reminded him of his current state and he rolled ungracefully from the bed. He landed sprawled on the floor causing a sharp gasp to leave your mouth as you watched your severely hungover husband groan and roll around tangled in sheets before moving like a slug to the open doors of his balcony and slamming them close behind him.

You couldn’t see him like this. He hadn’t even managed to face you, but he knew he must look terrible and there was something in him, ridiculous as it may be, that wanted to keep you under the illusion that he wasn’t a complete failure. Once he’d finished evacuating the contents of his stomach off his balcony, and damningly close to his brother who was just making his way onto the training grounds for his morning spar with Cole, he inhaled deeply before steeling himself to walk back inside.

Opening the doors to his rooms, he saw you sitting prettily on the end of his bed. Hair fallen perfectly to frame your face, wearing only in a linen shift you had presumably slept in by his side all night – surely his wife had been carved by angels. Bustling in the room brought him back and he drew the sheets tighter around his waist. Maids flitted in and out, making up the bath and serving breakfast on a table set up at the end of the bed.

“Better?” you said shyly smiling at him. “I thought you might need something to line your stomach – and possibly a bath.” You trailed off. You’re right. He smelled revolting.

He doesn’t quite understand how or why you could be so nice to him, he thinks as he sinks into the steaming perfumed water. Especially as a vague memory of the previous night comes back to him, he’d stumbled back into the keep, pissed as a newt, and demanded you come to him to fulfil your wifely duties. Closing his eyes, Aegon felt his muscles relax in the warmth. Even his head lessened from the soothing lavender scent.

This time he felt your presence behind him before your touch. Softly, again, you carded your fingers through his hair, moving him gently forward so you could wash him. Your gentle touch was so foreign to him. Even when he was washed by the servants, they were never this gentle with him. The warm water cascaded down his back, your fingers working a floral scented soap into his hair and pressing firmly against his scalp. The sensation was heavenly. The warmth of your body surrounded him as you leant him back again to rinse the soap from his hair.

Once he was cleaned you set a small pillow at the back of the tub for him to rest his head on. Though he was a prince he was sure he had never been as pampered as this. He stared up into your face as he leant his head back, taking in the soft fluttering of your eyelashes and the curve of your cheeks and lips.

Though you had been married for over two moons now Aegon didn’t think he had ever really looked at you before now. Surely he would have lingered around you more if he had seen what a beauty he had married. Your mere presence brought him peace, and whilst he could not understand why you were being so kind to him, his heart overstepped his mind and let him live in this fantasy for just a moment longer; practically jumping from his chest when he felt you lay soft kisses along his hairline. Your warm smell invaded his nostrils and his eyes fluttered open to discover your neck and cleavage so close to his face. Your skin looked so smooth, and his lips ached for him to lean closer and place a reverent kiss to your collar.

You took a towel and held it out for him, helping him dry as he stepped out of the tub. His eyes rolled over your body as he dressed, tucking his loose shirt into linen britches as he watched you arrange the chairs around the breakfast table.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” his voice wavered ever so slightly at the question falling from his mouth.

“Aegon?” you replied. Softly breathing his name as you turned to face him. He was sure the sweet sound of your voice confirmed you had been sent from the gods. “I am here to care for you. I am your wife…” His face fell slightly at that, which you saw. Of course you were there for your duty. The thought brought back his words from the previous evening. Wifely duties. You were fulfilling your side of the bargain. “… and I like you.” You finished.

You studied his face as he looked at you. His delicate features held together by perfect milky skin. The rounded cupids bow of his lips forming a soft pout that was hard to resist. Though you’d seen his anger and drunkenness many times since your wedding and heard worse from the ladies of court before your arrival, you’d also seen the small sad look on his face whenever he’d leave a council meeting, or even just at dinner with his family. Although his mother had been nothing but kind and gentle with you, you could see this favour wasn’t extended to her own son, and his grandfather was even worse – openly mocking him with his father, the king when surely, they should have been teaching him.

Thoughts brought you back to reality as you stepped closer to him. Looking into his eyes, the pale violet seeming deeper towards his iris and wider as they searched yours for an answer. You softly took his wrist into your hands, sliding your fingers down to intertwine with his own you placed a small kiss between the crease in his brow.

“I am your wife. I know you did not choose me for love, or choose me at all, but I hope that you will know how much I care for you, and one day maybe you may care for me.” Aegon’s throat almost closed up, and his eyes betrayed him as they began to water. His thumbs barely moved to brush the backs of your hand bringing them up to place a kiss on your knuckles – gently leading you to sit next to him at the end of his bed.

The words struggled to form in his throat; a combination of a hangover and sudden emotion rendering him surprisingly catatonic. Your hand moved to stroke to side of his face, bringing his eyes back to your own.

“I will do my best” he whispered, leaning into the warmth of your palm. “I will do my best for you, and for our line.”

“I know you will. You will prove anyone who doubts you wrong.” You spoke, touching your forehead to his own. His eyes slipped closed once more, happy to bask in the bliss of your presence for as long as the gods would allow him.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Illusion & Truth: The Rite (V)

Masterlist for The Rite is HERE My Regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (5) Loki does some soul searching, he lets you into a secret, and shit goes down at the pre-Rite feast. (w/c 5.4k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Plot, shocker. Asgardians behaving badly. Sick child (not serious). Petty bitch behaviour. Lagertha being an MVP. A/N: This is the longest chapter of the mini-series. Please bear with me. You'll see why.🥰 lies.

Loki hadn’t left his chambers for the rest of the afternoon. That woman from the Circle-Club: Freja, Mellandra…something like that, had come by seeking to ‘soothe’ what ailed him.

Self-serving, of course.

But thoughts swirled in his head that not even Freja/Mellandra’s silken heat sheathing his sword could quieten. And with that realisation, Loki had another one about you which settled in his stomach like a stone.

I don’t want anyone else. No one but her.

Somehow, you needed to fall in love with him in two moons – three if he counted the night of The Rite itself. Or at least, the stirrings of love which went beyond simple lust or pure reverence. If you knew that...it would push you away. Why wouldn't it? Asgardian royals had stacked the decks for millennia; beginning courtships of likely matches for marriage from a young age – and the Rite was a foregone conclusion: part of the wheel. It was too important, and there were no second chances.

But you fucked it up. If he didn’t fulfil the Rite, then he’d be forever out of the succession. And if he did succeed, and you fell in love with him, he’d have to break your heart as swiftly as he’d cheated his way to it. Loki couldn’t love – not like the others. He’d accepted that a long time ago - he'd been told many times.

He brought a hand cleanly against a goblet on the desk and sent it crashing to the wall. Thick cracks spread from the impact. He buried his face in his palms, stifling a scream. Perhaps his brother was right; perhaps Fandral was the better choice after all. There was no hope for your feelings to blossom given the boorish, wanton way he’d conducted himself. The Circle-Club, Norns. What must she think.

The door creaked open. “More wine, my Prince?” the chambermaid said. She was wearing the low-cut robes tonight, holding the flask beneath the curve of her breasts. She looked up at him through lined lashes, a dark eyebrow rising. She didn’t seem concerned at his distress – not one bit. Just wanted to ride him or suck him off or let him bend her over the balcony: not that he could blame her. “No,” he said abruptly. Once she’d left, he was sure the serving groom wouldn’t be far behind – offering his services. They had a system, he was certain of it. If one was declined, they knew Loki was in the mood for the other. His eyes wandered out the open archway. Daytime bustling of the courtyard below sounded loud to his ears. Suddenly the jug appeared in front of him, tapping onto the table while the tart, sweet scent of wine filled his nostrils. Her hands wound around his neck; breasts pressed between his shoulder blades; her breath hot in his ear.

“Are you sure, my Prince?” she whispered, sucking his earlobe between her teeth. “I’ve missed your highness’s touch, it’s been over a week.” Loki closed his eyes, trying to smother the revulsion at himself. The drinking, the endless sex, the aloofness: that nothing mattered. Perhaps he wanted it to matter – did anyone ever think of that? Even endless pleasure, Loki was finding, grew tiresome when flitting from one instant gratification to the next.

“No…thank you,” he said softly; holding up the flask. She said nothing else, just blinked a few times as he nudged the smooth metal into her hands. She threw concerned glances over her shoulder every few steps as she left, closing the door behind her. Loki slumped into the chair; trying to remember how people who didn’t drink wine and fuck all afternoon passed the time.

And so, until sunrise, he decided to do what he’d avoided for far too long: think.

Loki pulled at his sleeves.

The inferior material so favoured by the common-folk was starting to itch. He lingered on the outskirts of the palace gardens, scanning for you. And soon, there you were – led by Håkon. He was a little shit, but Loki liked him – and he showed promise as an apprentice; a rarity, considering his beginnings. Loki smiled. The face he wore didn’t hold that type of smile so agreeably as his own, but it would do. Håkon nudged you to his level, and Loki saw your eyes widen before meeting his own across the path.

You walked briskly towards him, eyes darting to passers-by. “Loki?!” you hissed. Loki’s smile grew. “The very same, little owl. Does my disguise not please you?” You made a face, and Loki snorted lightly, the rough knuckles that met his lips stifling it. To anyone that looked on him, he was a roughened, reddened stable-hand ilk: the type would garner no second looks except that of the guards searching for escaped jailbirds.

“It’s necessary, I assure you. Even this early in the morning, the markets are busy. I’d rather not attract any unwanted attention.” “I didn’t think it was possible for any attention you received to be unwanted...” Loki’s eyes narrowed. The subsequent smile lit your eyes in the same when it did when you looked on his own face: like the strike of a match. It made his stomach flip. You were wearing a beautiful green day-gown – the same shade as the calla lily growing by the pond.

“I had intended for us to walk around the gardens but…plans have changed. I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Håkon’s coming too. Although…I fear you may be rather overdressed.” Your face fell. “Håkon’s coming?” “He’s not so bad,” Loki said as the boy wove ahead through the crowd, stealing small pieces of cake from the morning stalls. “Perhaps you may grow to like him.” You cleared your throat, and Loki felt his skin prickle with the words unsaid. He could feel them on the air before your tongue formed them. The obvious question most were too afraid to ask. “Is he your son?” There was no judgement in the question, only curiosity. It was, Loki surmised, a reasonable assumption with the boy’s dark hair and playful tricks – indeed, he often wished the answer was yes. But he replied, “No, merely my apprentice. No illusions, not this time. Upon my honour, such as it is.”

Loki’s fingers flexed by his side, and a rough, woollen cloak unfurled covertly in his grasp. He held it in a bundle towards you. “As beautiful as that gown is,” he said in his gruff, stolen voice, “Best not to attract attention where we’re going.”

“Don’t you want to change my face, too?” you said, and the sparkling mischief in your eyes made blood thud in his ears. “No,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t deny myself, and the people of Asgard, even the shortest glimpse of your skin under this morning light.” You stared at him for a moment before gasping into laughter. Loki frowned. “I’m not laughing at you, Loki…I just…” Your breaths were becoming short, and people were staring. You leant against his shoulder, burying your face against the rough scratch of his grubby tunic. “It’s only…well, they have to see me with you. I can only guess what they’re thinking. I still have a reputation to uphold, you know.” A laugh built in Loki’s chest, shaking in time with your own. You pulled away from his shoulder, smoothing a wiry chunk of crusted, mousy-brown hair behind his ear. “Alright,” he said bashfully. “I didn’t think of that. How about…I change your appearance too – but alter it so that we can see each other for our true selves?” You grinned. “Deal.” Loki could tell the exact moment that the enchantment licked over his skin by the edge of your bottom lip between your teeth. Norns, how he wanted to rip that dress to shreds with his teeth and have you inside the topiary maze.

Beneath the magical mask of rough, woollen clothing – he was wearing casual livery; a green tunic buttoned up to the neck, and tight-fitting buckskin breeches tucked into riding boots. Freshly washed hair tumbled over his shoulders. He could see you, and you could see him – and to anyone else, you were just two, ragged, happy peasants and their thief of an offspring.

Loki’s breath hitched as you reached out a hand. “So…where are we going?” He led you through the market, down side-passages that spread like veins from the centre of Asgard’s township and soon the buildings grew less polished…less gold.

Amber brickwork shifted to craggy, dirt-smoked stone and Loki couldn’t help noticing your face grow more cautious with every step. Eventually, he stopped outside a large wooden door cut into a tall building. Håkon knocked. After a minute, the gap creaked open. “Lagertha?!” you gasped, neck snapping to Loki. Her eyes narrowed. “What says the fox to the crow?” she asked warily, keen gaze shifting between you. Loki rolled his eyes. He could never remember the inane answers to such riddles, no matter how many times she told him. “43, 33, 36,” he said. Lagertha frowned. “What?” He repeated his measurements, and her eyes widened. “Loki?!” she hissed, sticking her head out and casting a furtive look to either side of the empty alley.

She shot out a dainty fist and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him inside. Loki grasped your hand, yanking you after him. The door slammed. Loki crouched to receive her hug; he was always surprised how strong she was. “I didn’t think you’d come, what with the late notice…I didn’t think—” She stopped herself, pulling back and shooting a piercing glare in your direction. “Who’s this?”

“Ah,” Loki said. Before he could say anything else, Lagertha wafted theatrically in front of her nose.

“Borr’s bones, Loki. Lower the glamour, will you? I understand the need for secrecy, but is there any need for the smell?” Loki’s lips rolled together, biting his tongue. Behind him, Håkon laughed. With a flex of his fingers the enchantment burned away to reveal his true form, and yours too. Lagertha’s face softened. “My dear…” she said sweetly, as though she hadn’t been moments away from poking you in the eye. “So nice to see the two of you spending time together. He must trust you, if he brought you here.” You opened your mouth to ask inevitable questions but Loki placed a hand on Lagertha’s back. “Show me. From your note, it seems we have no time to waste.”

Lagertha led him to the open courtyard in the middle of the building. From the outside, it resembled the same crumbling wreck as all the buildings in this district – but inside, it was a palace: all curved edges and bright, warm colours. Cushions littered the floor, a pond in the centre and a fountain spurting shapes with changed on the hour. The lilt of childish laughter twinkled in the air – but then, he saw her. A girl no older than two lay cradled in the arms of a nurse in the corner. Her skin was flushed and splotchy: the areas not afflicted had the pallor of rotted milk. Loki had seen her several times before – and several times he’d wished she would alter her screeches of happiness at a change in the breeze or the spray of the fountain to a decibel lower. But now, the absence of that joyful screech was torturous. He came skidding to a stop, falling to his knees on the cushions. “You should have summoned me sooner,” he said, pressing the back of his hand to the girl’s forehead. She was hot with the scorch of impending death. Lagertha sank to her knees beside him. “You know the rules– only in the direst of circumstances.” “May I?” he asked the nurse, and she shifted. He held the child, her head lolled in his arms, eyelids fluttering. He could see your profile out of the corner of his eye – and for a moment, he regretted ever considering bringing you to this place.

Nothing says romance like the demise of an infant, he scolded himself. He hadn’t thought it would be this bad. But you touched his back, a comforting trail of your fingers down his spine.

Loki pressed a hand to the small chest, closing his eyes. A swell of magic pulsed through his skin; green licking out from his palm. The baby’s eyes shot open in shock, a strangled cry of surprise tearing around the cloisters. Loki held the squirming child steady, palm flush to her skin. Hold on, he willed. Hold on.

Slowly, too slowly, the angry splotches receded. Plumpness began to puff back into her cheeks, and the child’s eyes opened – glossy and bright with sleepy wonder. “Thank the gods,” the nurse breathed, and Lagertha clapped her hands together. “Not the gods,” Lagertha said dryly, “just this one. He’s the only one worth having.” Relief swelled in Loki’s chest as he passed the child to the nurse. “Careful, Lagertha – I’ll have you for treason.” “Not if I have you first,” she replied wryly. They exchanged a knowing smile.

Loki’s nerves didn’t settle until they’d draped into the chairs by the water’s edge. Someone brought tea, and he tried to pour it before realising his fingers were trembling. You took the pot, pouring a cup for Loki, Lagertha, and yourself. “Thank you,” he murmured, and the smile that danced on your lips was like none he’d ever seen before. He looked away quickly, and then heard you ask… “What is this place?”

Lagertha snorted. “An orphanage, of sorts. I help when I can, in between the weaving – and Loki manages to come once a month or so to keep things in check – keep things nice for the children, make sure the pantry is stocked with the meats he smuggles from the palace, bless him.” Loki felt heat creep up his cheeks as she reached across the table, nobbled fingers wrapping around his wrist.

It's now or never, he thought. But in his heart, he knew you had to know. That you could be trusted. He could feel it. “If my father knew it existed…especially under my patronage - he would shut it down, turn them out.” Tea slopped over the side of your cup. “What?!” “He grows suspicious – and there are spies everywhere. Fandral, for instance.” Loki bit back the spit of his name. “If it's discovered before I am confirmed in the line of succession, then I won’t have as much say in what's done if it’s exposed.” “Why would Odin want this taken away?”

Loki’s heart sank as your eyes landed on each small, plump child in turn, older ones around Håkon’s age peering around pillars. There was a dozen spread across the courtyard, and more upstairs in bed. Many, many more. Two girls splashed in the centre of the garden pool, un-phased by their illustrious visitor. He saw the exact moment your keen mind landed on the right question. “Who are they?” you asked quietly. “Bastard sons and daughters of the gods, and of the court. The unwanted; the shame of Asgardian wealth and lust, and selfishness,” Loki heard himself say. Lagertha squeezed his hand. He met her eyes, unspoken words passing between them. She was asking permission, and he granted it. She cleared her throat. “The high and mighty in the palace like to smear this one because he lays it about, no offence intended m’Lord—” “—None taken,” Loki said with a small smile. “—But Loki here, he enjoys his pleasure with people he can take care of, should it be needed. I mean yes, he has the contraceptive magic and all that…but he doesn’t take advantage, not like the others. They pretend goose-fat wouldn’t melt: playing pure and then heading to the taverns and brothels, leaving their seed behind in the bellies of women who have no choice but to give ‘em to us when the lords’ pretend they don’t exist.” Loki couldn’t look at you. He stared at a ripple in the pool, following its progress until it faded to stillness. Suddenly, your hand was at his cheek; your lips pressing to his in a silent, soft understanding. He met your eyes.

“I know what it is to be unwanted,” he admitted – and with horror, he realised his vision was beginning to blur. “I couldn’t let that happen to them.” “He says next year, I’ll have a friend at the palace,” Håkon interrupted cheerfully from across the courtyard, looking up from a plate of sliced cheese. He shot Loki a glare. “Not a girl through,” he added – and beside him, a girl with long blonde hair suspiciously like Thor’s punched him in the arm. “Ow.” Loki smiled. “I can’t add my apprentices too quickly, you understand. One a year usually suffices to evade suspicion – and then afterwards, they travel to Vanaheim to continue their education. But Håkon is staying a little longer…” His eyebrows rose in the boy’s direction, “If he behaves himself.”

Loki met your eyes. There was that look again, the one that made him feel like a nervous virgin and a king at the same time. He straightened as your fingers clasped around his thigh beneath the table. It wasn’t a gesture of lust, he was sure – but his groin ached just the same. “We should go,” he said, and your face fell. Around them, childish wails of discontent grew loud and soon small hands were pawing at his legs - little bodies jostling for a place on his lap and wrapping their chubby arms about his neck. Your laughter was music above the fray. “We should stay,” you said sternly over the excitement – and Loki grinned through a veil of small limbs and wide smiles. “They’ve clearly missed you.” “You don’t mind?” His heart fizzed as you rested a fist beneath your chin. “Not a bit,” you said, as a boy with auburn ringlets crawled onto your knees, smudging the green silk with butter-greased fingers. And what’s more, Loki realised as you greeted the boy with a hug, she means it.

When you returned to your chambers, the sun was beginning to set.

The most beautiful dress you’d ever seen in your entire life was hanging against the window: shimmering in amber hues slatting across the floor. A deep, rich green: silk that rippled with sparks of gold. A note was pinned to the lapel. ‘Make him erupt in his britches again,’ it said. You snorted. It was signed with a looping, cursive L – and a kiss. You weren’t sure how Lagertha had managed to ensure its delivery between hobbling after three dozen squealing children for nine hours alongside you – but you appreciated it none the less. The fact Loki had told her about events in the orgy-room yesterday made an unexpected warmth blossom in your belly. It was becoming harder not to get attached.

You’d tried not to think too much about tonight: the feast. It made it all a bit…real. A celebration of Loki’s attempt at The Rite – and a celebration of his chosen partner: aka, a chance for the court to get a good look at you.

You sighed, looking in the mirror. I can do this, you thought. For Loki. You frowned. The idea that you’d be doing it for him was new – and the thought seemed to expand inside your skull like dandelion seeds blossoming on a stalk. For Loki. And then, another thought. You’d meant to raise it this morning, but the day’s events had been…distracting. What the fuck was the second part? The one that had him more nervous than he had any right to be? He couldn’t doubt his skills in oral pleasure, surely. He’d only have to look between your legs and you’d explode. It had to be something else: something important. You tried to push it aside as your giggling maid helped you into the dress and fixed your hair. It wasn’t as elaborate as the royals, but it would do. And besides, you weren’t one of them. And you never will be.

When the final clasp was added to your hair, there was a knock at the door. Just one. The maid answered, and from the pitch in her voice you could tell she was flustered. Loki had said he’d meet you outside the feasting hall – Is he here? Your stomach fluttered as you scurried to the entranceway, and immediately grimaced. “Fandral?” He looked up from where one forearm was pressed against the archway, looming over your maid like a lech. If Loki did that, it would be unbearably hot – but Fandral had a way of making even the most potentially erotic poses illicit the same response as hot sick. “The very same,” he drawled, straightening a ruffled cuff. “Loki sent me to fetch you, since we’re all to be such great friends.” “He did?”

“Mmm,” Fandral said. It wasn’t an answer, but you were running late. Maybe he’ll throw me down a well, you thought as you gingerly took his arm and began walking in silence down the corridor. If he tries, I’ll drag him by the balls down with me.

Fandral’s tunic was made of the softest velvet you’d ever felt: a bright, cerulean blue. His fingers clasped over your hand wrapped around his forearm as you walked. “How curious,” he hummed, and your expression hardened, staring ahead for what was coming. “Such soft hands, despite your status. I’ve heard buckling ones own shoes is a terror for callouses.” “You must give me some tips - I’d hate to scratch Loki’s intimate areas with my nasty, commoner callouses.” Fandral yanked you to a stop. There was a flash in his eyes. “Do not call yourself a commoner. It’s an insult to the Prince – as though he would lie with a peasant. You are the lowest rung in the court, and he’s too good for you…but you’re not so low as to be unable to debase yourself further.” “From what I hear, others aren’t so picky as you are,” you muttered, pulling your arm from his grasp, remembering the sweet faces of the children nobody wanted. The shame of the Asgardian court. One of Fandral’s slicked eyebrows rose. “And what does that mean?” Shit. He’s a fucking spy - you’re going to blow the secret, and you’ve only known for a day. You improvised, cracking your neck to the side and painting on a mask of apathy. “You’re arrogant, anyone ever tell you that?” Fandral sneered, the illusion of his upper hand returning. “Consider your proclivity towards our Prince, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes, thankful that the chatter of nobles filing into the feasting hall was growing louder. Looked like there was only one more turn—

“He’s trying to make you fall in love with him.” You stopped, blinking furiously; the crowd visible at the end of the corridor blurring. “Excuse me?”

But before Fandral could respond, a shadow fell over you both. The sight was like smelling salts. Norns, he’d never looked so handsome. Loki’s dark hair was half drawn up to expose the sharp lines of his face; a golden band resting on his head with thin spires like spun, violent sunlight pointed to the ceiling.

His outfit matched your own perfectly: a thick brocade tunic with delicate buckles running up his midsection; green and gold woven with breath-taking perfection. The tunic fell to his mid-thighs, leather trousers tucked into thin boots the same forest green as your dress. His hand slid around your waist, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, Fandral grimaced.

“You look…beautiful,” Loki breathed against your ear, his scent richly spiced, and for a moment it stifled the guilt clawing in your chest. He drew back, shooting Fandral a withering glare. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” As Fandral gave you a last, salty look – Loki’s eyes fell on you again. “Just one more thing,” he said softly, flexing his fingers. A weight grew on your head in time with Loki’s smile; the same crown of sun rays growing towards the ceiling, matching his own. “Tonight is for you,” he said, offering his arm.

“For us,” you replied, hoping it was true.

The first few hours of the feast passed in a blur.

You’d never forget the feeling as you walked arm-in-arm with Prince Loki down the centre of the hall feeling like a queen: nobles cheering, Fandral looking like he had a wedgie, Frigga smiling widely, and Thor…although not quite as much. Odin’s face was like a pruned apple, but what else was new.

Don’t get attached, you reminded yourself again. But it was becoming harder.

You sat beside Loki at the top table, chatting easily as the two of you tucked into honey-glazed boar, potatoes baked in cream, vegetables soaked in the most delicious spices you’d ever tasted.

Every so often, a noble would shuffle in front of you both with a small bow, offering their good luck wishes to the god beside you. “Not required, but appreciated,” Loki said every time. And every time, you stifled a laugh. More than once, you caught Frigga gazing at you out of the corner of your eye. But when your eyes met, hers darted away. That small smile hadn’t left her lips all night.

Loki stood. “It’s far too dull for this time in the evening, time for some dancing…don’t you think?” Thor perked up two seats down from you, his eyes alight and a sticky ring of honey smeared around his mouth, dripping down his chin. “Dancing! Yes, brother.”

Loki smoothed the front of his tunic, waiting for a adequate number of revellers to admire his outfit, before making his way to the band assembling in the corner. You recognised the lute player from yesterday’s orgy – the blindfolded one. Loki’s seat was immediately taken by Fandral, and you rolled your eyes. “What do you want?” you snapped. “The second part of The Rite – I assume he still hasn’t told you.”

Fandral released a whispering chuckle that made your stomach tighten. He hovered by your ear with a smile stretched on his rattish face, golden glitter from his hair falling to the tablecloth. To anyone watching, it might look like he was telling a joke, but there was no humour in his voice.

“He has to make you cum with that pretty mouth of his, yes. But your feelings towards him as he does it will be measured: not lust, or respect as your better…but the deeper sort. It will be impossible to hide it. If you do love him, then afterwards, he’ll discard you like the commoner you imagine yourself to be. And if you don't, which is more likely...let's be honest, you’ll have cost him his place in the succession.” Fandral withdrew, a dazzlingly artificial smile plastered on his face. You opened your mouth and closed it again, heartbeat hard in your throat. “It breaks my heart to see him play you,” he sighed, playing with Loki’s fork. “Just as he will break yours…but alas, it’s how it must be. I expect he’s lavished you with his attention these past days, let you see…allegedly…another side of him?”

“You’re just jealous,” you blurted. It was childish, and frantic.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s no secret I have feelings for the Prince which go beyond mere frippery – I make no waves against it. Loki is magnificent in many ways, but he’s always been a fool. And you will make a fool of him too, when it’s clear you don’t love him; when he is shamed, his status diminished - left forever in his brother’s shadow.”

Your vision swam. “But…why would he…why would he choose me, then? It’s too important, I…” Those plump, hopeful kid’s faces flashed in front of your eyes again. The way he sang to them, and made baby animals burst in living shadows from his fingertips to prance across the courtyard amidst their shrieks of delight. They were in danger. Loki had to secure his place in the succession. This wasn’t about you, not really.

“Fandral,” you said, searching his face, not knowing what you wanted him to say. “Just enjoy yourself tonight.” Fandal smiled, giving a small wave to someone across the room. “I’m sure Loki will come to his senses before the ceremony.” Time seemed to stop as Loki drew you on to the dancefloor, and soon the centre of the hall was a shifting sea of graceful bodies and swirling silk. You’d never wanted anything more than to attend one of these things – you weren’t going to let Fandral ruin it.

Loki’s body was like steel, but he moved like fluid - a liquid grace which twirled and manoeuvred you easily across the floor. His cheek pressed to yours, lips grazing your skin at achingly slow intervals. You wondered if he knew he was doing it. And yet— ‘It breaks my heart to see him play you; just as he will break yours.’ Your hand faltered from Loki’s hold, fumbling the step.

He drew you closer, eyes clouded with concern. The lutes seem very loud all of a sudden. “Loki…” you started. You needed to know – and he needed to choose. There was much at stake, and you didn’t know if you could give him what he needed to come out The Rite with his place in the succession intact.

“May I?” Fandral’s voice shattered the moment.

He was the picture of gentile chivalry, a hand extended with a reverent bow. Loki looked at you, and you suddenly realised the only thing you wanted was more time before the illusion that this could all be real shattered forever.

As your hand left Loki’s, reaching for Fandral’s – you saw the creep of a cruel smirk, and a white glisten on Fandral’s fingers too late. Your breath caught as he lunged. And then, all hel broke loose.

Loki’s body was a wall of muscle ramming between the two of you, smacking Fandral’s arm to the side.

You stumbled backwards, falling into Frigga dancing with some lord from Vanaheim. Grapes went skittering across the floor from the knock-on-carnage; goblets cracking against marble and shrieks as priceless suede shoes were splashed.

Loki was gripping Fandral’s wrist as the blonde looked up wide-eyed, words shaping his lips that came out in a mess of denials and apologies. Between the nonsensical muttering, you heard two words from Fandral’s lips: ‘Thor…whorehouse.’ Loki’s eyes narrowed, and then he punched Fandral in the face. The sharp crack of his nose breaking split the air. “Loki,” Odin boomed, shuffling in front of the long table at the head of the hall. “The Rite feast is no occasion for your brutish theatrics.” Loki’s fingers tightened around Fandral’s wrist and a pathetic squeal snaked from his throat. “He tried to sabotage my partner,” Loki growled through gritted teeth. He sent Fandral sprawling to the floor. “See? He bears the seed of a god on his hand – you know the rules better than any, father. It would render her ineligible to take part. Bartered with a lady of the night in Asgard’s township from one of her patrons, no doubt.”

Your stomach dropped as gasps rose around the hall; whispers of a hundred conversations turning to a roar. “Silence,” Odin shouted. The guests obeyed. “Is this true?” he directed at a cowering Fandral. “Surely no god would involve themselves with such a person, such an act.” Your eyes swung to Loki. You’d never seen him angry. And dark irons…it was hot.

His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides; a muscle in his jaw feathering with every strong beat of the pulse in his neck. A wave of pride, and desire, and…something else, swelled in your stomach. The gold-spired crown on his head glittered beneath candlelight, dark curls spilling over brocaded shoulders like ink. “I assure you, father – it is true.”

And Odin knows it…bastard, you thought as Loki turned, brows heavy as he stared his father down. “Order him from my sight, or I cannot be responsible for what comes next.” And for once, Odin complied.

You couldn’t hear Fandral’s protestations of innocence, or the clatter of guards. All you could hear were Loki’s heavy breaths as he pulled you after him down a side corridor and into the open air of the balcony. All you could feel was the press of his body to yours as your back hit the wall; the pressure of his ravenous kiss; the need of his sighs and broken apologies into your open mouth.

His palms cupped your cheeks, lips slotting so perfectly against yours and the weight of his chest flush to your body like he thought you might vanish.

You pressed a palm to his chest, pushing him back. Deja-vu of the first night you entered Loki’s world flashed in front of your eyes: a kiss on a balcony, a promise made with hidden intentions– but it was nothing like this.

There was something different swimming in his sapphire eyes: more than lust, or duty…or tricks. It would’ve been a foregone conclusion that Loki would be successful in achieving The Rite with Fandral. He could bring that golden turd pleasure like he’d never known; show the Norns he could win the love of the people who worshipped him…but that option was dead now. Not that you’d wanted it for him in the first place.

Could that look in Loki’s eyes be faked? The one that smouldered with embers of cities he’d burn for you; of how inexplicably far he’d go to keep you as his partner in this farce even though the odds were stacked against him. He’d known they were all along. “Loki…” you whispered, and he wet his lips, biting the bottom one softly as his gaze fell. I could love him, you realised. Eyes wide open; knowing that this might be all it ever was, and even if he would never feel the same – I could love him. With the little time that was left, you only hoped it would be enough.

Tags in comments ❤️as always I lovvvvve hearing your thoughts! Thank you so much if you're here!

Chapter Six: Consequences

[cheoridoll]

distraction —

pairing: robby keene x reader

warning: none, just something cute

words counted: 1.582

includes: just Robby like a puppy after his love

playlist for the fic: spotify. | forgive the bad english! it's not my first language.

A toss or a distraction, Robby felt useless at this point in the day, sitting on the couch at his half-brother's house, while staring at the turned off television, totally disconnected from his current reality, only remembering how he was used by a girl. And damn, he liked it. He couldn't deny that he was like a puppy, obeying all the orders of the tough rookie girl, the one who arrived suddenly, the distant female cousin of the Larusso family. Because Daniel loved her, she was like a daughter to him.

At first, he just wanted revenge, now he finds himself in love with his own karma.

"Hey bro, grab your backpack, let's go to school" — Miguel said, throwing the backpack against Keene's rigid body, waking up to life, as his father would say.

He forgot so much about the world outside his head, that he also ended up forgetting why he was awake so early. School.

"Shit! Miguel, did you do the french work?" — like a light bulb, it lit up his mind. He spent so much time focused on Larusso that he left aside his obligations, like an idiot in love, preferring to remain in the illusion of his own daydreams.

"Yes, I did." — he agreed, transforming his expression into a somewhat confused one, eyebrows drawn together and mouth half open.

"Put my name? Please!" — he asked with a huge pout on his lips, making Diaz understand and laugh loudly at the gesture.

"Okay, but stop making that weird face."

Robby was getting more and more electric as the hours passed, excited for class after lunch. Arts had become one of his recent passions. He loved painting feelings, the most recent being the common mix of love and fear, which he affectionately nicknamed "chocolate and pepper." Love creates artists, it created Robby, and disappointment makes them better. But deep down, I hoped it would continue as an unfinished creation.

Keene continued rambling in his head, and all paths ironically led him to her, to her beautiful hair, penetrating, oblique and hidden gaze. He hated love, he hated being attracted to someone who held him up like a spear, a fucking distraction.

"Where are you looking, Keene?" — Robby's head went straight to the empty food plate, making the blow have a greater impact, his face burned with pain, his throat wanted to scream, but he couldn't.

"Shit Kyler, get out of here you idiot." — Miguel accompanied him.

Kyler had been thinking about the guy with the clear eyes in recent days, vowing to give him a good beating one day, also stating that he would at least see where the blow came from. No sooner said than done. After the crash, he became dizzy, it wasn't like he had the strength to stand up there, his face was fucked up, he lost consciousness, he even lost sight of the fact that one of the shards of glass had flown onto his shoulder. Damn the day he decided to wear a shirt with a loose collar. I lifted the table, still tipping sideways and my vision was blurred, holding his belly, as if that would give him more balance. Kyler saw the biggest opportunity, turned his body and kicked the other person's heel, knocking Robby to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Miguel tried to advance towards the other, but was stopped by the idiots, cowardly held by three people. While struggling, Kyler threw the first kick.

"Oh, Kyler!" — a female voice tore through the place.

There were feelings in the speech, not so positive so to speak, perhaps hatred, anger with a hint of jealousy.

"Only I can mess with my blond." — ran towards the brunette, kicking him away from Keene, his kicks were high, Kyler didn't really know how to attack at that moment, nor did he know if he should, opting to take small steps backwards while using defense.

"Are you such a coward that you can't just slap me?"

He attacked her with hatred, threw her body to the ground and stood on top of her torso, while holding the thin collar of the girl's blouse, ready to throw the first punch. She smiled, not an ordinary smile, a devilish smile, and the surprise came with her tears, a desolate and fearful look.

"What's going on in that cafeteria?" — shouted the director, who with heavy steps walked towards Kyler, taking him off the girl.

Behind him was Daniel, who was helping prepare the dance that night.

"Uncle, I tried to defend my friend, but when I saw..." — he burst into tears, being lifted from the ground by his uncle, who hugged him carefully.

"Fine my love." - Larusso left the girl leaning against one of the tables, heading towards the body of the former apprentice. With compassion the silence against his body, the support between his arms in the most comfortable way he could.

"Are you okay, Robby?" Nothing was said, he was still dizzy from all the blows and the coffee didn't help his anxiety at that moment.

"Uncle, I'm going to take him to the infirmary, okay?"

"Okay, princess, I'm going to go to the principal's office and sort out this mess." — The older man left, while Larusso placed Robby's arm over his shoulders, in order to avoid another contact between the other person's body and the ground.

"Robby, look at me, tell me it's okay." — He requested. "I..." - he paused, completely rethinking that moment.

"Take me to the infirmary straight away."

Without saying anything else, she took him there, the silence killed them, I missed their diverse conversations. In the end, Robby felt a little hurt, beyond the physical.

"Tell me sweetie, why are you like this?" — asked the one with locks, bringing her fingers to the other's injured face. "I know you're strong and you'd take him down whenever you wanted."

"You. I'm like this because of you." — he took his arm away and threw himself on the sofa in the infirmary.

Karla, the nurse, was at least scared by how deformed Keene was, after all, he was at a school where practically every day there were around three students injured after a hidden fight. I'll get the ice. - was the only thing he said before leaving.

"What did I do, Robby"

"Everything, just answer me one thing before I tell you to leave this room and leave me alone." — He shouted. He was more upset than actually angry, in order to just take her away from his mind and heart for a few minutes.

"Am I what to you? Cheap fun, love." — he laughed to himself. "forget the last part, I must be some idiot that you only catch when you feel like it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" — he raised his right eyebrow.

"I love you so much, and look, if I didn't show you signs of that, it's because I'm insecure. Robby, you have anyone at your feet, your exes are incredibly perfect, they fight well, they are beautiful... " —she sat next to him.

"I'm afraid of not being good enough like they were."

"I should slap you for thinking like that." — he joked.

Not that he had the courage to lift a finger at her, he loved her in a ridiculous way, which sometimes found it strange.

"I love you, I love you in a way that I've never loved anyone else and you can bet that you're the only one I want to have in my life, or better yet, build one."

"I called him, I'm not good enough to fight someone experienced yet." — she laughed, throwing his body against hers, to create a hug.

"You're over the top, Keene." — she leaned his torso, kissing the wound on the older man's face close to the wound.

"No, I'm just ridiculously in love with the new girl. In fact, how did you know the director was coming?"

"Needy. For you." - they laughed.

"Look, you kicked very well, I was quite jealous of what the highs were."

"I don't even know how I did that, I just wanted to protect you at any cost."

"Damn girl. I love you so much that I could go to hell just for you."

he didn't want hell, he wanted heaven, the roof of her mouth, to calm her busy and stressful days. The calm kiss, full of desire and passion no longer repressed, was everything they wanted and what they finally got.

[the-earth-priestess]

i love luka and hyuna and their dynamic so much and i don't like how it flies under the radar in fandom 😑😐😑 it's reduced to toxic straights or whatever. i get that it's mostly kids in this fandom but whatever. i'm gonna ramble. adult alien stage fans pspspspss

the hyuluka dynamic is just as crucial to the central themes of alien stage as the other relationships/dynamics between the other four if not more.

hyuna is what you get when you take someone who had the knowledge, means, opportunity and a catalyst to take action. and she said "fuck your sick systemic game of oppression, i'm not playing", and she created something out of nothing. she created an anarchist rebellion even if she doesn't have the political term for it, because she dared to dream bigger than what she was taught by the aliens.

luka is what you get when you take someone in that same system who had the very same things, but went the other direction in response to the game of oppression. he said "i have no hope in a better world, so i will play, i will murder by proxy, to make it to tomorrow". he conforms to the aliens, to the game of alien stage, because he pushed hyuna away when he killed her brother. he doesn't think he deserves to be saved from the game, he doesn't think he can be saved, and he doesn't think hyuna can save him.

luka's murder of hyuna's brother, however intentional or not, was the catalyst for her rebellion. once, she was happy, too. she thought that their situation was good for them. she had her brother and she had her best friend. but when luka lashed out, or got into a fight, with hyunwoo, and the latter died, that was when the illusion shattered. hyuna loved the both of them, but how can she look at luka the same after hyunwoo was killed?

how can she think of anakt garden, of the aliens' world, the same?

so she dreamed. she imagined. and she brought those dreams to life. when she sings now, she sings because she wants to. because she chooses to. not for profit, advantage, or her very existence. she sings because it is her way of expressing herself, a soulful, artistic display. she sings to live. she sings for her friends in the rebellion and parties with them because they are free. she fights the aliens because she wants others to have this same freedom. she is a beacon of hope.

after hyunwoo died and hyuna retreated and then rebelled, luka instead sunk further into darkness. he doesn't love himself enough to hope for better, but he doesn't want to die either. so he conforms into a puppet. he continues to suffer severe abuse at the hand of his alien owner. when he sings ruler of my heart, he envisions hyuna. thinks her ideals and rebellion pointless -- thinks it hypocritical, perhaps. since he has been left to rot. he sings to not die. he is a pit of despair.

their entire dynamic is much more than "toxic straights" hope this helps!!!!!!! they're lesbians to me btw but that's just my headcanon

[imnotaacat]

I Can See You.

Anthony Bridgerton x fem reader.

— Summary: Anthony and you have similar stories, and maybe that's why you connected so quickly, some will say it was the circumstances, despite not romantically seeing each other, little by little that will change. Without you realizing it, a love story begins to weave between you, very slowly.

— Warnings: Angst, mention of Death, death, Little fluff, no use of Y/n. (I think that's all)

A/n: English is not my native language, sorry if something is written wrong, I hope everything can be understood. :)

As Viscount of the Bridgerton family, Anthony was forced to attend all the balls this season accompanying his younger sisters, Eloise and Francesca. This gave rise to his mother, Lady Bridgerton, in addition to finding husbands for her daughters and introducing him to several of the debutante girls that seemed suitable for her son. Since they were children, Violet expressed to her children her wishes for them to marry for love, not for the benefit of one or the other, like her and Edmund; however, that illusion for Anthony had ended since his father died and he was left as Viscount and head of the family, he saw how his mother suffered for the loss of his father.

At the beginning of the season, Anthony had warned his mother that he would marry this season, a woman who is nice, who is good company, he would have his children, he would continue with the Bridgerton line of succession, and that perhaps over time he would fall in love with her. Violet tried to convince her son to get that idea out of his head and take the time to meet the girl he would spend the rest of his life with, however, her son ended the conversation by refusing what his mother was asking of him. But Violet would not give up so quickly, she would give her son his space, of course, but she would continue to introduce him to some other girl, Anthony was aware of that, but he hoped his mother would not insist so much this time. After dealing with Eloise a bit, the Bridgerton family, except for the younger siblings, headed to Lady Danbury's Season Opening Ball.

As they walked towards the entrance, Francesca was on Anthony's arm, Eloise was on Benedict's, and Violet was on Colin's. Violet advised her two daughters, as well as reprimanded the jokes her sons made, once at the entrance, all eyes turned to them, all the girls, went to the three Bridgerton brothers, quickly greeted them, and extended their dance cards towards them, and how could they not? The Bridgertons were one of the most respected families the girls who managed to win the hearts of these brothers would be the luckiest, and how not to mention how handsome the three of them were. Once settled in the living room, Violet was talking to the boys who asked her daughters for a dance, while Eloise moved the boys away, Francesca who was a little shy had agreed to dance with two boys, although she had not been attracted to any of them. Violet didn't want to pressure any of her daughters, or sons, she had done it with Daphne and even though Daphne was now happy with the Duke of Hastings, the road was a little hard, she didn't want to make the same mistake with her other children.

Anthony who had managed to avoid his mother a little, was now trying to continue the conversation with a girl, he didn't even know what she was talking about, so he simply nodded or smiled with her from time to time, the only thing he knew was that he would kill his brothers when he returned home, they had gotten him into this, out of the corner of his eye he could see them approaching him, notoriously mocking him, once close Benedict spoke.

"Brother, miss" He greeted. "I'm very sorry to interrupt your conversation, however, our mother needs our older brother," Benedict said to both of them, especially to the girl.

"Oh, I'm so sorry miss-" he didn't even remember her name "But I must go, as you heard my brother, my mother needs me." The girl nodded with a smile that Anthony returned, once he turned around the smile disappeared.

“Thank you for saving me, but I will kill you both once we get home,” Anthony said to his younger brothers who continued to make fun of him. Once reunited with their mother again, he heard Eloise insisting their mother go home, arguing that Francesca must be very tired after dancing with the two boys.

“We will leave until you dance with someone,” Violet said, to which Eloise responded with a shocked face, her older brothers began to make jokes to Eloise, about Violet's response, Violet simply shook her head and repeated to herself what she would do with her children. “This goes for you too Anthony” Violet said, Anthony quickly turned to see his mother, with a shocked face.

“But I have already danced with a mother… It was not pleasant but I have done it.” Violet shook her head. “You must excuse me Anthony, but I have not been able to see you.” His younger brothers made fun of him, he was going to kill them when he got home.

“My dear, your father told me that they have not yet met the Bridgertons, one of the best families in London” You shook your head a little tired. “I promise I will leave you alone for the rest of the evening, once you meet them.” You smiled and took Lady Danbury's arm to walk with her, your father walked behind you. After going around the great hall, you approached a family, you saw the three gentlemen who whispered something to each other and tried to run away.

“Stop gentlemen,” Lady Danbury said raising her cane. “I have seen you, do you not think it is disrespectful not to greet your hostess?” The three gentlemen turned back to you.

“Lady Danbury!” They all said at the same time, which made you laugh a little, with your right hand you covered your mouth so that your laughter could not be heard, however, one of them noticed it.

“Lord Bridgerton, Lady Bridgerton, let me introduce you to Mr. Rothschild and his daughter Miss Rothschild.” Your father, like you, made a small bow towards them.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Lady Bridgerton said, your father nodded. “What brings you here, to visit London?” You asked. Both your father and you exchanged a glance.

“Well, Lady Danbury invited us to this grand event, and coming from her, we definitely couldn’t miss it.” Your father replied with a smile. A small laugh came out of your mouth, earning a glare from the Viscount again.

“I apologize for my manners.” You said. The reality is that they came to find suitors for you, after having scared away almost all of your suitors in Switzerland, there were very few left who were still interested in you.

“Don’t worry, my dear, but please allow me to introduce you to my three eldest sons.” Violet said. “My eldest son, Lord Bridgerton, Anthony.” He bowed slightly to you. “My second son, Benedict, my third son, Colin, my youngest daughters, Eloise and Francesca.” Anthony’s action was repeated with the younger siblings, a small bow to you.

“It's a pleasure to meet you all,” you said, the others nodded. Then they went into a wide conversation about suitors of all kinds, advice that Violet, Agatha, and your father gave to all of you, to find your perfect partner. Although from all that, the jokes of the Bridgerton brothers stood out, as well as your attempts to keep the three brothers away from you.

“This is not a place for a lady to be alone,” a voice spoke behind you.

“Lord Bridgerton,” you said while making a small bow. “Oh don't worry about that, my father is nearby,” you pointed behind you, Anthony turned to look in that direction, and once he located your father he greeted him.

“Have you enjoyed the evening?” he asked.

“Of course, it was an excellent evening… although I would have preferred that Lady Danbury not introduce me to every man in front of her.” You said with a smile, Anthony smiled too.

“Well, I think we have the same problem, my mother also introduces me to every young man that seems right for me.” You smiled. Both of you fell silent.

“Why doesn’t she want to get married?” You asked. There was a short silence.

“My mother always told my brothers and me to marry someone for true love…” He was silent for a few seconds. “But when my father died, I could see how she suffered with his death, she lost the love of her life… So I just want to get along with my future wife, have a cordial relationship, one that deserves to be called Lady Bridgerton.” Anthony was surprised by how honest he was with you, since his father’s death he had never shared how he felt with anyone.

“I understand… my mother died when I was very young, and everything I remember about her is starting to disappear, my father has been my everything… but I have always noticed the sadness he carries with him since my mother passed away.” You turned to look at Anthony, who was listening attentively. Another silence arose again.

“And why don’t you want to get married? I noticed your attempts to keep me and my brothers away,” Anthony asked, you laughed, and he smiled at you.

“Well, the same thing happens to me as to you, I have seen since I was a child the suffering of my father at the loss of my mother, so I have never been a fan of marriage, I have driven away all my suitors in Switzerland…” You smiled. “However, I must get married.” Anthony noticed the change in your mood.

“I suppose your father wants his daughter to have a good life.” He said to comfort you.

“Of course… but the interest of my suitors is different… it is for a fortune.” You said.

“The dowry?” He asked incredulously. You laughed.

“As you know, I am his only daughter, so my father a few years ago made an arrangement in which when he dies I can inherit all his assets… he does not want any relative to take it, most are gamblers… but to access the inheritance I must be married, so most of my suitors go after that inheritance.” Anthony looked at you surprised, he had never heard of a father doing something like that, and less with a daughter specifically. You noticed the surprise on his face. “I guess you’re wondering how my father managed it.” He nodded. “He got his most influential friends to vote in his favor, promising them that I would marry one of his children… however, I have managed to displease them, but unfortunately for me, they are still after that inheritance, so they won’t leave me alone.” You both laughed. A pleasant silence arose again.

“My dear, we must return… Lady Danbury must be looking for us,” your father said behind you, both of you turned to see him. “Lord Bridgerton,” he greeted Anthony.

“Mr. Rothschild,” Anthony greeted. “If you allow me, I can accompany your daughter to the hall.” Your father nodded. “Miss Rothschild,” Anthony said, offering you his arm. You nodded and took his arm, beginning the short walk. Your father walked behind you, leaving a small distance.

“I have an idea.” Anthony spoke, breaking the silence, you turned to look at him. “Lady Danbury and my mother want the same thing, that you and I have at least one dance tonight.” You nodded. “Why don’t we give them what they want?” he asked.

“Do you want us to have a dance together?” You asked, he nodded. A part of you wanted to reject the offer, Mr. Bridgerton was a stranger, however, you had talked to him more than you had talked to another man in a long time. “It will only be one dance, right?” You told him with a smile. Before entering the room Anthony asked your father if he could have a dance with you. He happily accepted, and you smiled at his happy face.

The doors of that room opened, and all eyes turned to you. Including those of the Bridgerton family and Lady Danbury. Anthony led you to the center of the dance floor, while your father met with the Bridgerton family. The musicians began to play the waltz, this was one of the most intimate dances of the night. You and Anthony began to spin around the dance floor, everyone's eyes fixed on you. Neither of you said anything, your bodies moved in sync with the music. Once the dance was over, everyone present applauded, Anthony gave you his arm to walk next to him, and as you approached his family and your father, you could notice the big smile on his lips, you couldn't help but smile too.

“This will appear on Whistledown tomorrow.” Eloise spoke, followed by a scolding from her mother.

“Whistledown?” You asked.

“Don't worry darling, it's nothing,” Violet answered with a smile.

As expected, the next day, Lady Danbury's hall was full of suitors who came to court you, some brought flowers and others very pretty jewelry. However, you only expected to see one, Lord Anthony Bridgerton. However, he didn't come, and you didn't feel attracted to him, however, his company the night of the ball was charming, and he gave you a confidence that you hadn't felt with anyone else. You wanted him to be your friend and if you could choose him as your future husband, he would be your first choice, however, five days had already passed since the ball, and there were two days left until your father and you left for Switzerland again, every day you waited for Anthony to arrive, however, you never saw him in any of the long lines you saw since the beginning of the day. And no man caught your attention enough either, but you knew that at this point you could no longer choose or wait to find the right one, your father had had a relapse with his illness two days before, so they had to advance his departure date, but you knew that Lady Danbury would not let you go but not before choosing your fiancé.

The last day of your stay in London had arrived, and after that day at the ball, you hadn't seen Anthony, you started to believe that maybe he was just an angel, an angel that your mother had sent to take away some of your sorrows, and you were grateful for it and you always will be, he was an angel in your life.

From the beginning of the day your father and Lady Danbury were giving you the names of the suitors that they had thought were right for you, you still had the option to choose him, however, the two of them were starting to get desperate, because you didn't choose any and your father started with the threats of choosing him himself.

“Come on dear, of all the suitors that came, none of them made you feel anything?” Lady Danbury asked in a flirtatious tone. You shook your head and sighed, you were about to choose Baron Larrey, he was French, came from a good family, and at least from what you could see he was sweet and kind, and he was young, there was not much age difference between you, but a voice interrupted your conversation.

“Lady Danbury, Lord Anthony Bridgerton, accompanied by his mother Lady Bridgerton.” The housekeeper announced, and two minutes later the two entered the room where you were.

“Lady Danbury, Mr. Rothschild, Miss Rothschild” They both greeted with a small smile followed by a small bow.

“Lord Bridgerton” You greeted with a smile on your face.

“Miss Rothschild.” Anthony greeted me with the same smile as you. “I wanted to invite you for a walk in the gardens.” Anthony said leaving a small pause. “If your father allows me of course, you can even accompany my mother.” He said now looking at your father and Lady Bridgerton.

Your father gladly agreed, however, he preferred to stay inside, because of his illness he couldn't get too excited, not even with a short walk, adding that winter was coming to London and the next day his return trip began, he had to save energy.

You took your cloak to begin the walk, both Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton walked behind you, leaving a convenient distance, so that you had a little privacy, but not without losing sight of them. Both Anthony and you were silent for most of the walk, you shared some other comment about the flowers, the trees, or some other bird that crossed your path, but both enjoyed the silence between you, there was peace, there was trust, there was brotherhood, there was complicity. A few meters before you reached the entrance of the home Anthony broke the silence.

"You and your father have something to do tomorrow, my mother and I would be honored to receive you in our house." Anthony said with a smile. A short silence fell, leaving the question hanging in the air.

“I'm afraid that won't be possible, Lord Bridgerton.” You answered, looking at the ground. “My father and I are returning to Switzerland tomorrow.” Anthony looked at you, strange and confused.

“I thought you would stay longer…” Was the only thing Anthony managed to say after a few minutes.

“Me too… however, my father's cancer is getting worse, and he prefers to return to Switzerland. It's a relatively long trip, and with his condition, it will probably take us a little longer to get there.” You rebelled at Anthony, and he remained silent. What could he say to comfort you? That everything was okay? That your father would get better? He only gave you a nod, saying that everything would be okay, although you both knew that he didn't have much time left.

Once inside the house, Lady Danbury extended her invitation to the Bridgertons to stay for dinner, which they gladly accepted. Both you and your father felt at home as if after so much time you belonged to a family, you wanted to enjoy the evening, the conversation, the jokes, but in your brain, there was a constant reminder that from tomorrow it would only be you and your father, and a while later it would only be you.

Three months had passed after you had arrived in London and had met part of the Bridgerton family, for a month your father could no longer leave his room, the cancer in his bones was taking him little by little, so you could increasingly perceive the loneliness throughout the house, there were many memories throughout the house with your father, but little by little they began to be overshadowed by the word death.

Anthony and you had exchanged a few letters during that time, you talked about your desires to meet again, however due to the state your father was in you did not want to travel, and Anthony's duties for his title of Viscount never ended, so he could not travel either, so that meeting only remained in wishes or at least that was what you thought.

Both Violet and Benedict noticed Anthony's desire to be your company at this moment, to be the shoulder you could cry on and tell him all your troubles, they understood that until now the affection you felt was "philia", it was because in a certain way, your stories were similar and connected. So Benedict began to prepare to replace Anthony during the three weeks that his visit to Switzerland would last. When you saw them enter the living room of your house, a big smile appeared on your face, you could even confess that you shed a few tears too; even your father went out a few hours a day to attend to his guests, things that you would always be grateful for. During the first week, you and Anthony spent the whole time talking about any subject, numbers, history, or grammar, and there he noticed how well your father educated you, he knew that you would be one of the best "Lady" that any family could have, from there he began to consider the idea that you would be the new Lady Bridgerton, you would put him on high.

The second week was halfway through when your father had a relapse once again, and since then he had not left the room again, once the doctor evaluated him again he gave you the news that your father had no more than one or two weeks to live, the news destroyed you, and then there was both Anthony and his mother to comfort you.

On the second day of the third week, your father called you to his room, when you entered you saw him much better than the other days, he had a big smile on his face and his skin was no longer pale like before. You talked with him for a few hours, something you two hadn't been able to do for a while now, one reason he didn't leave his room anymore was that he didn't want you to see him in that state. After a while he convinced you to take Anthony and his mother to see the surroundings of the mansion, you refused, excusing that it was already very late and it was about to get dark and you preferred to stay a little longer with him, however, he convinced you saying that he wanted to rest a little and telling you that you shouldn't be rude to his guests, despite whatever you were going through, reluctantly you accepted and left his room after he lay down on his bed again, entering the living room with a smile and extending your invitation to accompany you for a walk to your guests, they couldn't refuse. Again silence accompanied your walk, sometimes there were small comments from Anthony or Violet, brief explanations from you in certain places where you walked, some memory or anecdote. Just as you told your father, it was already starting to get dark when you arrived back at the mansion, the silence it hit you, after hearing the trees, the birds returning to their nests, even the air. One of the servants picked up your and Violet's cloak and Anthony's coat, as you walked inside you noticed that the silence was different from the one there had been the days before, you knew what it meant, Anthony and his mother knew it too, just like you now, they knew that silence perfectly. You started running towards the stairs to the second level, to get to your father's room, your heart began to beat a thousand times an hour, those stairs had never seemed eternal and infinite to you as now, with Anthony and his mother running behind you, you reached the hallway of your father's room, you began to walk towards the door of his room, that hallway like the stairs had never seemed so infinite to you, a few steps before you could leave the room, the housekeeper came out of it and only with the look and the bow she made, you confirmed that your father had left this world. You entered into a kind of trance, very distantly you began to hear the footsteps of the servants running from one side to the other, you looked back and saw the understanding looks of Anthony and his mother, but behind them was a man who was telling you something, however, you could not hear very clearly what he was saying, you closed your eyes, you swallowed the sadness you felt, you could cry to your father later, you sighed and opened your eyes.

“Excuse me, I could not hear what you were saying to me, could you repeat it to me?” You asked to which the man nodded.

“Lady Rothschild” The man spoke, that fell on you like a bucket of cold water. “We need to take your father’s measurements to make his coffin.” He spoke. “We need to know who we should send the letters to to send them the news.”

“Of course, you must call your doctor first, I want him to be present when you take the measurements.” The man nodded. “Your closest friends and associates must know about the news…” You paused. “Your brothers…” You hesitated for a few seconds. “They must know too.” The man nodded, and after a small bow, he was about to leave when you spoke again. “Please, the family lawyer must be here, before my father’s brothers come, send a carriage to bring him.” The man nodded and then he left.

“Lord Bridgerton, Lady Bridgerton.” For a few seconds you forgot that they were there, you noticed how affected they were. “I apologize for this, I will ask the cook to prepare some tea, you can go to your rooms or the living room, I will not be able to accompany you, I must go to my father’s study…” You hesitated. “I must go to my study to catch up on my father’s business.” The two of them nodded slowly.

“Don’t worry, dear. If you need anything, we’ll be here to help you.” You nodded and then headed to the other end of the mansion, where your late father’s study was. He believed that being away, he could forget about his business matters so he could give his attention to his little daughter.

Both Violet and Anthony admired the way you carried this moment, it seemed like a perfectly rehearsed play. There was not a single trace of tears or sadness on your face, there was no doubt or sadness in your voice, it was serene, and you transmitted confidence, giving orders to the maids and when receiving the condolences of your father’s friends, how you thanked them for being there.

These types of things, being unexpected, took a little time to be done or announced, for this reason, the funerals did not begin until the night or day after the person died; as in this case.

It was starting to get dark, you and Anthony were talking a few meters away from the room where everyone was, until this moment you were able to vent a little of what you felt, Anthony listened to you attentively.

"I admire the way you handle all this," Anthony said. "It was the way I should have acted when my father died too."

"Anthony, you must think that the context is different, I am 24 years old, you were 19 at that time, and my father prepared me all my life for this moment, in your case, your father's death was unexpected. Also, you should not compare yourself with anyone, we all act in different ways." You gave him a small smile. Anthony was about to answer you, when they began to hear that the murmurs were gradually getting louder, this generated curiosity between Anthony and you, so you approached to see what was happening, quickly you could see three of your "uncles" asking about you. Anthony quickly noticed how your demeanor changed again, to a rigid one, one that conveyed self-confidence, your face once again became serious.

“Dear niece, we are sorry for the loss of our brother…” The eldest brother spoke, and you murmured a low thank you. “But we also need to know when the reading of the will will be.” He said indifferently, your father warned you that this would happen this way.

“If you wish, it can be right now.” You answered with a somewhat friendly and even innocent tone, you called your father's lawyer, who was in charge of this. You could notice a big smile on the faces of the three brothers.

“Very well…” The lawyer paused as he took the envelope. “Zurich, January 8, 1814…” He began to read the will, you noticed how the smiles of the three brothers began to diminish as the lawyer read the will. Once the will was read, the three of them began to refuse, claiming that this could not be fulfilled because you were a woman. Your father's friends quickly jumped to your defense, but one of them was smart and noticed something that the others didn't.

“She doesn't wear a ring, so she's not married, she can't claim anything.” He shouted, pointing at your right hand. Everyone turned to look at you. How had you not thought of that? How had you forgotten something as important as this? Anthony noticed the fear and nervousness in you, then he spoke up.

“She hasn’t worn a ring, because I haven’t been able to give it to her before. I planned to ask for her hand after her father’s burial, who permitted me to marry her, with my mother Lady Bridgerton, and Miss Ashton, her housekeeper, as witnesses. However, thanks to you all, it won’t be a surprise.” You looked at Anthony in surprise. Then you saw him kneel in front of you. “Miss Rothschild, will you marry me? To form a family where the foundation of this is love and unconditional support.” Your father’s friends smiled at this scene, some applauded, you slowly nodded, then said yes with a smile. Anthony smiled back at you, putting the ring on your right ring finger. Seeing your father’s brothers again, anger took over their faces, with a dramatic turn and heavy steps they quickly left the room. The rest of the people present congratulated you and Anthony, with hugs and wished you the best.

In the afternoon of the next day, after the mass, tribute, and burial of your father, you returned home, you felt exhausted, the mix of so many emotions in a few days was beginning to affect you, and you needed to rest.

“I appreciate that you are here, I don’t know what would have become of me without you.” You said to Anthony and his mother.

“Don’t worry dear, the pain of losing a loved one never completely goes away, but you don’t have to face it alone. We will be there for you, today and always.” Violet replied, during the time you had lived together, you had noticed how Violet always had the right words for any situation.

“I’m going to my room, I need to rest. You should too, you need it.” The two of you nodded. Violet approached first, wrapping you in a warm hug before retreating to her room. Anthony did the same, but their hug lasted a few seconds longer. When they separated, he too began to walk towards his room.

“Anthony?” You called out to him before he could walk away completely. He turned to you again. “Can we talk now?” You asked in a soft tone. Anthony nodded and walked back to you.

“What is it? Do you need anything?” He asked while watching you intently. You sighed and looked down at your hands, fiddling with the ring on your finger.

“I want to thank you for what you did… for the proposal. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to…” you began to take off your ring, but Anthony’s hands were quick to stop you.

“No… I want you to be the one to wear it. Out of all the women I know, you are the only one who is ready to wear this ring and the title of Lady Bridgerton. Please… I know there is no attraction between us now, but I have always thought that my wife should be someone like my best friend, and that is what you are to me. Maybe love will come with time, but… please marry me.”

“Are you sure?” You asked him still with a little doubt.

“Absolutely,” Anthony said with a small smile.

If anyone asked you, you would tell them that from that day, from that moment, you began to fall in love with Anthony. You wouldn't tell anyone, but from the moment you saw him run away from Lady Danbury, you knew that this was the man you wanted.

Anthony wouldn't tell anyone, but from the day he saw you walking arm in arm with Lady Danbury, he knew that you were the woman he needed.

After two more weeks, you were back in London with the Bridgertons, Violet and Anthony preferred to stay two more weeks with you to accompany you in your mourning and help you with whatever you needed with work to adapt to your new titles.

The news that the libertine Lord Bridgerton had returned engaged, hit all of London, the news spread quickly, and everyone wanted to meet the woman who had managed to change his mind. For his brothers, it was also a surprise, but they also knew that behind that rigid and libertine character, there was a man who wanted to love and be loved.

Unlike how you thought you would be alone after your father's death, you now had a new family, one that truly appreciated you and not just for the inheritance you possessed. Daphne and Eloise became your best friends and confidants. Benedict became your partner in pranks and mischief, Colin was the best company for a chat about countries of the world and history. Hyacinth and Gregory became your younger brothers.

You were writing and finding a new life, and among it, a new love story, forever.

I would also like you to give advice or recommendations. I hope it's not too long or boring. I would appreciate your comments. 💗

[taylormarieee]

-Birds of a feather ~A Dean Winchester oneshot~

Summary: you and dean used to be a thing, attached at the hip like birds of a feather, he thinks you guys should stick together and honestly, so do you...

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: dean winchester x fem!hunter!reader

Warnings: hurt to comfort, slight angst, fluff, illusions to sex but none takes place, sam being a supporter/wingman, kisses, touches, mutual pining, reader playing hard to get(just a lil bit), teasing, that's it! lmk if I missed stuff<33

A/N: Hey... how yall doing... I know i've been absent and i'm sorry, so here's a little fic to bring back the life in my blog!

You and dean were the "IT" couple. You guys did everything together, you guys were two peas in a pod. He loved and adored you and you respected and loved him.

You guys were made for each other and it showed. Sam used to get disgusted after a while when you two were so smitten about each other, but then came the arguments.

The arguments about the tiniest things. the arguments that led to angry sex. The moaning, and sweat on each others bodies. The feeling of him inside you was always a good way to release the stress, but then after that there would be a good day and then the cycle started again.

Until there was no more sex, just arguments that led to dean leaving at all hours of the night and you finding comfort in his younger brother.

Talking to sam felt like the best thing in the world every time you fought with dean. You hated fighting with him. He was your love, your future husband, the man of your dreams.

He meant the world to you, and you couldn't bear losing him to some shapeshifter or some demon or even just speeding to fast in his car.

That's why it hurt you when sam got the call that his brother was seriously injured in the hospital due to a car crash. He loved his car so it shocked you when you found out.

JANUARY 6TH 2004, LAWRENCE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, 11:01PM...

You both rushed to the hospital and never left his side. When he finally woke up, you hated to break it to him but you couldn't do it anymore. The arguments, the cold shoulders, him driving off and staying out drinking his life away in all hours of the night.

You kissed him goodbye and left. You lived with Bobby for a little while just until you got on your feet but then you found out a demon was after you for what your father did, something you'll never know.

He's been dead for a little while. Your father. You've been trying to follow in his tracks for a while now.

But anyway, you have been living with Bobby for a while now and every time Bobby said that Dean and Sam were coming over, you always made sure you were never home.

But one day, Bobby didn't tell you and you heard the rev of that impala and immediately froze. You were in your room finishing up your drawing on this Wendigo you killed last week for Bobby with the help of Rufus.

"Hey bobby, what's up." Sam spoke, the vibration of his voice echoing around the halls.

You grabbed your sketchbook and tried to sneak downstairs and run out the back to where your car was parked but unfortunately, they were in the kitchen where the backdoor was.

You peeked in and of course Dean had to be the first one to notice you.

"C'mon out and stop hiding ya ijit!" bobby calls out drawing now Sams attention. Both of the Winchester brother's had wide eyes as they watched you come out from the corner.

You were wearing a black long sleeved crop-top with baggy jeans that had stars on the pant legs.

"I'm not an ijit bobby, how many times are you gonna call me that!?" you ask bobby while rolling your eyes trying not to acknowledge the brothers, specifically Dean whose eyes cannot leave your body and face.

'When did you get so many piercings.' he thought to himself.

"Well when you stop leaving the house for hours everytime I tell you there coming over, you haven't seen em in months almost a year now, you can't keep hiding." Bobby tells you.

you sigh and look at the both of them and that's when you lock eyes with dean again.

"Hey dean. Hey sam."

"Hey." they say in unison. you give them a tightlipped awkward smile and then put your journal down.

"Wanna see some of the drawings of my most recent kills so far? It's a lot of vampires, demons, wendigo's you know, the whole shebang." you aks with a smile.

They both smile at you like there proud and say sure. you nod and open your journal.

You had some notes and details next to your drawings. They all looked at it in fascination and awe.

"These are amazing! Did you hunt them all on your own?" Sam asks as he flips through the pages.

"N-no, well kinda. I had help every now and then." you say looking at bobby with a smile.

He grew to be your father and you really appreciated him for who he was and what he's done for you.

"These are really great but uh, can I talk to you outside for a minute? Please?" Dean asks looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that you knew you couldn't say no to.

"Yeah Dean, sure... cmon." you say as you walk outside with him near all of bobby's abandoned junky cars.

"What's up dean?" you asks folding your arms across your chest.

"how have you been?" he asks keeping it casual and short.

"I've been doing fine, how about you?" he smiles and steps a bit closer to you. you fight the urge to step back.

"I've been thinking about you. For months. Wonderin' where you've been, how you've been holdin' up but I see you've been doin' just fine." he says with a slight tilt of his head.

"Yea I have de-"

"I ain't finished just yet doll. Why have you been avoiding us? Avoiding me?" he asks sternly.

you roll your eyes, 'here we go'.

The conversation you've been dreading to have. You thought he'd just leave it alone but what the hell were you thinking?

This is Dean, THE Dean Winchester we are talking about here. He's relentless until he gets his way.

"Look Dean, I really don't want to talk about this right now ok? I don't wanna argue with you." you tell him in the most nicest way possible.

"Ok..." he takes a long pause. "Why not?" he asks, making you sigh a very annoyed and long sigh.

"Because Dean, the way we could turn a civil conversation into an argument was honestly stupid and insane, so please for the sake of saving me a headache and meltdown and you getting into another severe car crash, drop it." you explain to him.

His eyes soften almost. Letting the relentless side of him slowly fade away bringing out your dean, the soft mushy bear dean.

"You- you still remember that night?" he asks softly.

"dean I remember it like it was yesterday. All I have are nightmares of you in the hospital, your heart stopped beating for 5 minutes! How could I not think about how the man I loved died right in front of me over a damn argument! I always blame myself!" you shout.

"You shouldn't ha-" he starts.

"I shouldn't what? Have that guilt?! Oh, but I do Dean. Every day I play scenarios in my head. M-Maybe i-if I was more understanding then you wouldn't have left, maybe if I wasn't so mad over the smallest thing, maybe if I just talked it out like a normal human being, then maybe, MAYBE! the love of my life would still be with me right now."

His eyes widen. He's stunned at your confession but you don't even give him time to talk as you walk towards your car, A Cadillac DTS.

You hop in and drive off.

~NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, BOBBY'S GARAGE, 9:30PM~

Your car finally pulls up in the driveway and you notice that dean's impala is still here. 'So there staying the night huh?' you thought.

you turn off your car and get out. you open the door with the key you have and walk inside the house.

Bobby's asleep on the couch in front of the new tv you bought him two weeks ago.

You smile and grab the nearest blanket you can find and wrap it around him to shield him from the cold outside.

You lay a soft kiss to his head and whisper him a goodnight. you turn around and notice a figure standing in the kitchen, you jump and pull out your pocket knife but you realize it's just Sam.

"Hey, sam." you greet quietly.

H eturns around clearly pretending to not know about your prescence and smiles.

"Oh hey! I promised Bobby I'd still be awake in case you ever came back." he says as you walk over to stand next to him.

"aw thank's Sammy." you say with a geniune smile to which he reciprocates.

"hey, can I uhm, tell you something that I think you should hear?" he asks shifting his weight.

"yea go ahead." you respond crossing your arms in front of you, a habit you had.

"Dean hasn't been focused or okay ever since you left. He's been kinda broken. Screwing any girl that looked at him the right way or taking his anger out on me and that's nothing I can't handle but, I just hate seeing him like that." Sam expresses.

"Hate seeing him like what?" you ask concerned.

"Like a part of him is missing. Whenever I look at dean, he's staring into nothing, as if he's dead. There are nights where he mutters your name and hugs the motel pillows like they are you. Only to wake up facing the reality that your not there, your not here with him anymore." he explains.

"I just can't keep seeing my brother drink and fuck his life away until he slowly fades into nothing. I watched him die for 5 minutes, I'm not going to watch him suffer anymore. Please, bring the life back into my brother, that is all I ask." Sam asks and then walks away.

"goodnight." he say lastly before dissappearing into the other room.

you stand there, contemplating on what you just heard, clearly not seeing the effect you left not only on dean but on sam as well. It tugs at your heart and suddenly you feel dizzy, almost like you can't breathe.

You step outside for a second and breathe in the cool air. You sit down and cry, you just cry and cry.

~MEANWHILE, INSIDE WITH SAM AND DEAN, 3 HOURS PRIOR~

"Sam come on please. You gotta tell her. I can't keep doing this anymore, you said it yourself Sammy." dean pleads with sam.

Dean had asked Sam to talk to you, to just tell her how he's been feeling and tell her that he needs you, that he can't keep living without you.

After you broke up with him so randomly in the hospital, he just couldn't keep going.

He was constantly overstimulated and constantly angry. The anger in him never died down until he saw you today for the first time in months.

His heart warmed up at the thought of seeing you in that outfit and being so bubbly, it made him miss you all the more.

Like a burning flame that was slowly dying and losing its light and being drained of its passion by the coldness of your heart.

It left him stunned that you could do something to him after such a tramatic experience.

All he wanted was for you to fuel him back to life, bring the happiness back into his life.

All those other chicks he fucked and left in different towns just weren't doing it for him anymore.

Not like you.

You had him hooked. Enfatued by your mere presence. He needed to be careful with you though.

Placing the sofest touch to the weakest petal. Caring for you like a rare feather.

He never wanted you to leave his side, because right now? He was going crazy in the maze in his empty mind.

He may be speaking in poems or riddle form but for you? He couldn't contain or shield his seeping heart that was torn.

And that his why his brother had to confess that to you, what dean didn't predict was for it to go that way.

~BACK TO THE PRESENT- NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, 10:45PM~

Your just sitting outside now, all forms of crying done. You didn't know how much you hurt dean that night.

You were just doing what was best for you, but I guess that was you being selfish. You only added salt to an already salty wound.

You made him bleed more than he did that night. You made his heart collapse.

He was your everything, and you guess seeing him die that night, you felt the need to distance yourself as much as possible to make sure you didn't lose him again.

And yet, all you did was hurt him even more and make your life and his ten times worse.

Bobby was right, you couldn't keep hiding from him. He was your savior and your becon.

He was always there at your beck and call. You both flew together like two parrots in love.

You stuck by each other like seahorses. You made him whole and he made you complete.

You were each other's puzzle pieces. He was the Clyde to your Bonnie.

You were going to do everything and anything it takes to get him back to you.

You get up, ready to open the door but someones hand is already turning the knob before you and it swings open.

Dean...

"Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone was out here," he announces tiredly.

Your frozen, you forgot how good Dean always looked when he woke up in the middle of the night.

Tousled hair, soft pink lips, and glazed-over eyes shining in the moonlight.

"n-no it's ok, I was actually going to come look for you. I wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?"

"Yea yea, that's fine with me." he says a slight smile on his face.

You both sit down staring at the stars in silence before Dean speaks up.

“so, what’s wrong?” He speaks out into the misty air of the night.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never left you that night. You died and then came back and you were fucking suffering and I just hurt you even more. I know you can probably never forgive me for that and I just wanted to let you know that I am incredibly sorry. I love you Dean, your the love of my life, your my safe place. I wouldn’t even be alive half the time if it wasn’t for you, I am grateful for you, your my future husband and I know I ruined my chance of ever getting to kiss you again but just know it’s ok and I’m sorry.” You speak out in one breath!

Dean blinks as it takes him a second to register what you said because you spoke so fast but he eventually chuckled and pulls you closer to him.

“Oh doll, I love you so much and I forgive you, why wouldn’t I? You’re the only thing that kept me going. My motivation to find my dad, my motivation to move on and protect Sam. I don't know where I would be without you and my brother. I love you for that and I’m grateful to have you here with me right now. No more focusing on the past, time for the future. Cmon, let’s go inside.” He says with a smile on his face

you nod and smile grabbing deans hand so he can pull you up. He walks towards the door to open it and you stop him by grabbing his hand.

“Dean wait!” you exclaim. He turns around with confusion and you grab his face and kiss him. You kiss him roughly and you kiss him with so much passion.

He grabs your waist and kisses you back with the same amount of passion.

you both break the kiss and rest your heads on each other.

“don’t know what that was for but I really liked it.” Dean speaks with a smirk on his face to which you giggle at.

“wanted to seal the deal of our love.” You say with a smile.

“your such a tease you know that? I was pining for you all day.” He says with a smile

“well what can I say? I’m a girl that likes to play hard to get. The moment I laid eyes on you today I wanted to pounce on you.”

“Well baby, you got all night.” He says with a smirk and a wink.

Birds of a feather, we always knew you two would stick together...

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling + anyone else who wants to join!

[daistea]

ur au with the whole courting before the incident™ ... EXCELLENCE. your service to the community is appreciated and loved

THANK YOU!!

honestly it’s one of my favorite aus. It could go in so many lovely directions.

Like, you love Mithrun, you’re one of the only ones who know who he truly is, what he’s truly like. And you still accept that and want him. And that’s all he wants, is to be wanted.

But I don’t think he’d realize that at the time. He’s too wound up in his resentment toward his family, and in masking himself constantly. But subconsciously he drifts toward people who fulfill that need in him, so you’d be close. Whatever you decide, whether you’re dating or just friends, you’re one of the few people he genuinely cares about.

Tbh I don’t think he loved that elf girl. I think he just saw that his brother liked her, and he wanted to possess that. Big brother, the one who gets to inherit everything, the one who gets to live a canary-free life, the one who gets the girl. Not cool. It drives him crazy. Maybe at the time he sees that image in the mirror, you and him are arguing about something so he’s already in a bad mental state. Or you’re not dating at this time and he loves you but hasn’t realized it yet. Whatever the situation, he shatters the mirror and proceeds to disappear from society for five years.

There are searches, but he’s not found. The years pass. Even his brother has no clue where he is.

Meanwhile, Mithrun is living it up lol. But the years pass for him too and the place becomes more twisted and the illusions of his friends (and the illusion of you) don’t visit anymore. Idk someone once said they might actually be there with him, but based on what the demon said to chilchuck about making copies of his wife and kids, and also Marcille’s dad, I think he just makes weird little copies/shapeshifters.

You’re there! He spends the most time with you. And snake girlfriend doesn’t complain because he doesn’t wish for her to. But he sees this illusion of you and how you’re portrayed in his mind and these little subconscious things. And he’s like damn. I think I’m genuinely in love with them and have been this whole time.

And that’s when things hit their peak and ya know, munch munch crunch crunch

AND THEN LIKE he’s found. He’s different. Whether you help in his recovery or not is up to you. I think he’d actually push you away at this time because it hurts, but idk he might also just not care.

40 years later you see him again!! Mithrun is chill about most stuff from his past, he’s got a normal relationship with his brother now. I imagine it would be a little difficult with you though because the last thing he realized before getting his desires eaten was that he had a desire for you.

Also it would be funny if you’re like ‘wow you got hotter’ and he’s like ‘what’

[pluckyredhead]

Please ship Orion and Lightray with me, thank you

If you've been reading my Fourth World posting, you might have noticed me mentioning Orion and Lightray's relationship. This is because they're in love and I'm obsessed with them. Please join me in grumpy/sunshine-but-they're-alien-demigods hell, with visual references below.

So Orion, as we know, is the son of Darkseid who was raised on New Genesis but has always felt different and monstrous compared to his peers. Lightray is his best friend, who thinks Orion is just the best thing since sliced bread and says so constantly.

This is literally how we're introduced to them, in New Gods #1:

Lightray: Don't be sad. Hug time! Orion: Hugs are not for one such as me. But you're still my best friend. Lightray: Please let me enter your chambers. Orion: NO THEY ARE TOO DARK. Lightray: D:

This panel, from #6, sums up their whole dynamic really well:

Lightray doesn't crave battle the way Orion does but he is determined to stay by his side, while Orion doesn't want Lightray to fight beside him because he thinks Lightray is too good and pure to be tainted by violence.

Zero personal space.

So one of the things about Orion is that his real face is sort of brutish and not traditionally handsome (the eyebrows are WILD), but he uses his Mother Box (like a living pocket computer that loves you) to make himself look more like the people of New Genesis. In #8, he gets into a knock-down, drag-out fight with his half-brother Kalibak that nearly kills them both, and Mother Box can't maintain the illusion (and also his face is, like, pulverized). And then this happens:

I WEEP. LIGHTRAY LOVES YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE, ORION.

New Gods was canceled soon after this, but when Kirby returned a decade later, he went all in on the homoerotic devotion. So Orion goes to Apokolips to kill his dad and rescue his mom, and who do you think follows him?

That second panel makes me laugh so hard. "Here, honey, you forgot your Scooty Puff Jr!"

My favorite thing about this is that Lightray is playing dumb. He shot at Orion earlier and then said something vague about missing on purpose...but he didn't:

HE REALLY TRIED TO WOUND ORION ENOUGH TO STOP HIS SUICIDE MISSION. And the way he just shuts his eyes and takes Orion's anger because he doesn't care what happens as long as he saves his friend's life...! (Orion doesn't hurt him, they just touch each other a lot.)

Anyway they argue for multiple pages, with Orion insisting that Lightray go home and Lightray insisting that he stay, until finally:

This is so intensely romantic and also so unintentionally hilarious that I can't stand it. The homoerotic gazing into one another's eyes and then the stupid mutual thumbs up! Whatever is going on with that closeup of Orion in the second panel! I die!

...And you know who else dies? Orion! Or at least he comes very close (it's unclear), but is rescued by a freedom fighter named Himon and nursed back to health by Himon and his daughter Bekka. We get a little romance between Orion and Bekka, but we also get Lightray coming to visit:

That is some FULL CONTACT wrestling, boys. Orion pinning Lightray to the ground while telling him it's good to see him is so much, but the fourth panel is even mucher. My goodness.

And then things get serious, because they both believe they are going to die in the upcoming battle (they don't), so they bid each other farewell and Lightray leaves, and then:

Orion yells after Lightray how smart and funny he is and then collapses in despair because his friend is gone. "HOW LIKE A WANDERING STAR HE SEEMS." Oh my god, Orion.

That's it for Kirby, so I'll move on to other writers and artists, but I want to clear that I'm only sharing the most intense scenes between them. There are so many panels, from Kirby and others, of Lightray faithfully following Orion around, joyously welcoming him back to New Genesis, gently teasing him, and talking about how brave and noble he is. And of Orion only smiling for Lightray, going feral when he gets hurt, and telling him he's too good and pretty for battle. And of the two of them touching each other. A lot.

Literally just two random examples. THEY DO THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME.

The next really big moment comes in New Gods (1995), where the Source (basically God/Heaven) becomes corrupted and Lightray goes evil and Orion has to beat him up to stop him and I will never ever ever recover from these pages:

"You want the beast? Do you like it?" on its own is...hoo boy, SOMETHING. But it is eclipsed by the tremulous "Maybe...maybe if I can just hold him" and Orion gathering Lightray up in his arms while telling him he loves him. LIKE. THIS IS SO MUCH. (P.S. Lightray's fine don't worry. And yes, he does want the beast.)

Then we get to Orion (PLEASE read this comic) and the biggest smile Orion has ever smolt:

Look at how happy he is!!! You need to understand that his mother died in his arms ten minutes ago and he's still like "Lightray! Omg hi!!!" (To be fair, his mother was terrible.) Plus bonus unnecessary touching, Lightray's love language being gifts, and Orion giggling and twirling his hair while going "Omg you're so smart."

(Also, when Lightray mentions his "brief but troubling visit" to Apokolips in the second panel, what's not saying is that he put on a silly disguise and went to see a fortuneteller to try to figure out if Orion's mom was lying about Darkseid not being his real dad (she was; again, she was terrible), and when the fortuneteller is like "You DARE come to Apokolips?!" he goes "I would dare anything for my friend!" I know you would, honey. I know you would.)

The next bit requires some explanation. So, as briefly as possible: Orion kills Darkseid (or so he thinks), takes over Apokolips, and tries very hard to change it for the better. He also accidentally gains possession of the Anti-Life Equation, the formula Darkseid is always searching for that eradicates free will, and gradually is driven to use it to FORCE everyone on Apokolips to be good. And Earth. And New Genesis.

Eventually, Orion is seemingly killed, but actually he's been teleported somewhere unfathomably far away, where he realizes what he's done and sinks into suicidal despair. In the midst of this, he manages to both destroy the Anti-Life Equation AND save all of reality (and nearly die in the process), but he still thinks that because he used the Equation, he's irredeemable and doesn't deserve to exist.

So when he's teleported back to Earth and captured by a human who blinds him and rigs him up to a torture device so that he can drain Orion's life force and use it to be eternally youthful, Orion just...lets it happen. Because he thinks he deserves it. For SEVEN MONTHS.

But eventually he's like "Wait...I deserve this, but probably whatever is being done with my energy is not good and I should stop it." He tries to escape but only manages to let out a single scream.

Luckily, Lightray has been searching for him nonstop for those seven months, despite the face that Orion is supposed to be dead. And then we get this:

To be clear: this is sweet, gentle Lightray absolutely obliterating the men who kept Orion in the torture device.

Nakey.

Lightray gives Orion the crushed remnants of his wrist cuffs, and Orion does a magical girl transformation about it:

For everyone playing along at home, that's the second time Orion has canonically told Lightray that he loves him.

Anyway, Orion goes off to get revenge on the guy who did this to him (it's very satisfying, please read Orion), and then he's depressed some more until he has some brotherly bonding time with Scott and finally feels well enough to go back to New Genesis. His last line of dialogue in the series is "For it is late, and the sunrise and friend Lightray await us in the gleaming city of the gods." OKAY!

Tragically, almost every New Gods appearance after this is complete dogshit, although there is a great moment in Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps (a Rebirth series) where they need information from Orion but he's comatose so they bring in a telepath and the only word he can get out of Orion's mind is "Lightray." I'LL BET.

IN CONCLUSION: Orion and Lightray love each other so so much and I believe it is honoring Jack Kirby's legacy to think about them smooching. It's what the King would have wanted!

[hoarderheart]

How come you always have a boyfriend? How come you only want what you can’t have? Whoa. I know what I want, but I can’t have it. Besides you don’t want me, you just like too flirt. You’re just a complex manifestation of his memories designed to keep him distracted. The fantasy was far too real. No, guys, this is my life, this is the dream. It’s just a dream. Look, I have no illusions, okay? The life I live… It’s a lot of things, but it’s rarely happy. You know what? I'm a realist. I don't see much hope for us. No strings attached. Well, I’ve seen much stranger things happen. Damn, it’s good to see you. A hell of a lot stranger. Anything? Oh, sweet. Almost anything. He’s dead, all the way dead. Because of you. I’ll see you…I will. Is that really you? Part of me always believed you’d come back. Welcome home. But you’re always there, you know? Maybe if you didn’t up and leave us. I left, but you didn’t stop me. I should’ve stopped you. You’re the best friend we’ve ever had. You’re my best friend, but I just let you go. Man, I hope you can hear me… I know you’re in there…I know you can hear me...it’s me. We’re family. The people in your life, in your real life..? You ask, what about all of this is real. You’re my family. We are. People, families, that’s real. Out there, we need you to come back. We need you. We were a family and I didn’t wanna lose that. I need you. I forgive you… I’m sorry it took me so long...I’m sorry it took me ‘till now to say it. I love you. And I let it slip away… You’re our brother, I want you to know that. I love all of you. I need to say something. You don’t have to say it. You don’t have to say anything… Wait, there’s one thing… When Jack was dying…I made a deal. To save him. The price was my life. They’re not gonna get anything from me without agreeing to a few conditions. When I experience a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever. Why are you telling me this now? I wanted you to know…that when I do picture myself happy… I always wondered, what it could be…what my true happiness could even look like. There’s things, people, feelings…that I wanna experience differently than I had before. It’s with you. Or maybe even for the first time. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want…it’s something I know I can’t have. But I think I know…I think I know now. Happiness isn’t in…the having, it’s in just being, it’s in just saying it. Why does this sound like a goodbye? Because it is. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it. Don’t do this. I have to… You really suck at goodbyes, you know that? This is a better goodbye than the last time. You changed me, Dean.

I love you.

Goodbye, Dean.

I should’ve said, “I love you, too.”

[castiwls]

willow - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'I'm begging for you to take my hand. Wreck my plans, that's my man'

Requested; anon

Notes;tysm for the request <3 the yellow lights mentioned are like the one in the video (anon requested!)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Sam Winchester was a relatively new addition to your life. It had barely been a month since he and his brother had waltzed right into your life and seemingly derailed it from the almost perfect track it had been on.

In that time you’d found yourself falling fast and hard for the younger of the two. Falling in love was something which seemingly came easy to you, free falling into a relationship was something which gave you a thrill like no other yet this was different. Falling this time didn't mean simply moving your toothbrush into a new bathroom a few streets down, no falling this time was life-altering almost.

But you were more than willing. The idea excited you almost. Getting to experience a whole new world while being around someone who made butterflies swarm in your stomach was something which you only saw in novels you’d read as a teen. 

You were under no illusion that hunting was an easy life, both Sam and Dean had been very straight with what you were walking into, especially with them but you were willing. And being here now made the hell that was slowly becoming your reality seem to melt away and become nothing but an afterthought.

The small streets of the town were bustling with people as the two of you slowly weaved your way through. You noticed every so often the way Sam would glance back making sure you were still behind him before quickly turning back whenever you met his gaze. The simple act sent butterflies swarming in your stomach and made you even more curious as to why he had dragged you from your bed at midnight.

Sam would never admit it out loud but you weren’t the only one who’d seemingly fallen hard and fast. The thought of a relationship had never even crossed his mind until you’d appeared in his life and suddenly it was all he could think of. 

His life was less than ordinary and part of him had begun to believe that the obstacles that constantly between him and love were simply a sign from above that maybe he wasn’t meant to find a connection like that. But then he’d met you.

“Just up here.” Sam pointed to a small hill not far from where you were both currently standing. You nodded sending him a small smile. As you both continued to walk the crowd of people only seemed to grow larger and larger causing you to reach for his hand on instinct.

He didn’t say anything as he reassuringly squeezed your hand navigating you both through the crowd until they slowly began to disperse the closer and closer you got to the clearing. “Why did you want to come here again?” You asked taking a seat on the grass in front of a large tree. 

Sam quickly sat beside you leaning back against the trunk a smile growing on his face as he watched the sky. “I read about a festive they do here around this time of year.” A small glint of excitement appeared in his eyes as he turned his attention to you. “Just watch.” He nodded forward.

“Alright.” You sat forward curious as to what he could have possibly read about. You’d only been in this town for a day and so far you’d seen nothing of a festival, yet the crowds you’d seen said differently.

A comfortable silence fell over you both after a moment. After a moment something in the distance began to glitter against the dark sky. The small yellow light stood alone for a moment, slowly rising into the sky before another light joined it. 

A small gasp left your lips as what seemed like hundreds of other yellow lights began to dot the skies over the town. “It’s beautiful.” You turned to him in awe before quickly turning back to watch as the lights drifted across the sky.

Sam smiled his heart fluttering slightly at the look of pure awe etched on your face as you continued to watch the small lights pass by. After a few more moments he felt you relax onto the trunk beside him, your gaze still locked on the sky which was now full of small yellow lights.

Slowly he moved his arm around you, he felt his breath almost stop in his chest as your head dropped to his shoulder with a small contented sigh. At the movement, he felt himself relax as he turned his attention from the sky to you.

The lights were dazzling but he was much more infatuated with the sight in his arms.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut: Match and Kon and the time magic made them do it. tw: unnegotiated degradation kink, unnegotiated exhibitionism/voyeurism. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Thirteen gave him his body. Literally and deliberately and very, very intentionally. 

Match isn’t the one who set up the spell, after all. 

“Kon, are you trying to make me call off patrol just to watch you screw this asshole all night?” Tim asks, his tone sounding very deliberately resigned. 

“. . . maybe,” Thirteen says, his voice a little small and strangled. 

“Definitely,” Match corrects, and pushes Thirteen’s thighs farther apart. Thirteen flushes darker, but doesn’t pretend to try and stop him this time. 

“Yeah?” Tim asks even more dryly. “And what makes you think I want to do that, Match?” 

“I don't care if you want to,” Match snorts, dragging his hands down Thirteen’s thighs and being wholly unsurprised by how easily they fall apart under the contact. The other’s hole looks abused and thoroughly fucked, and as wet as the greediest cunt would be. “You're going to, because if you don't I could hurt him and you wouldn't know until it was too late to stop me. Or because that's a good enough excuse for you to give yourself to let yourself get off on what an eager slut your useless excuse for a boyfriend wants to be for me. Whichever.” 

“Match!” Thirteen sputters, covering his face with a hand again. Judging by the way he still doesn’t try to close his legs, Match thinks it’s safe to assume he’s more embarrassed by the conversation than anything else. “He’s not my–we’re not together, Jesus!” 

“Oh, so he platonically volunteered to watch you take dick for the first time?” Match asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Thirteen scowls at him past his splayed fingers, his face still bright red. 

“It wasn't like that, oh my god,” he hisses at him. 

“Apparently what it's ‘like’ is that you let your baby brother fuck you up the ass before you let your creepy stalker boyfriend so much as cop a feel,” Match says, sliding a hand under Thirteen’s thigh to make a point of digging his fingers into said ass. Thirteen shudders again, but glowers at him too. Match doesn’t really care, since he knows that ass is still up for grabs either way. 

“We’re not–” Thirteen starts to snap. 

“Apparently,” Tim cuts him off with, his tone perfectly neutral. Thirteen turns red. 

“. . . Tim,” he says, not quite pleading. 

“Mm?” Tim says. 

“Tim, I–” Thirteen cuts himself off this time, his voice strangled. “You–you’re–”

Technically, Tim gave him Thirteen’s body too, Match reflects. 

At least, he really doubts the idiot set up this whole thing alone and then asked Tim to watch. 

Match rolls that thought over in his mind for a moment, idle but intent. It’s . . . a thought, isn’t it. 

Then he flips Thirteen back onto his stomach and shoves his face into the mattress again, and also takes the excuse to rub his dick against the cleft of the other’s ass. His interest level’s . . . recovered. 

Very much so, has it recovered.

“Wh–you prick, I was trying to say something!” Thirteen sputters, digging his fingers into the bed as he pushes back against him, but doesn’t even put up a cursory illusion of struggle. He’s pushing back against his cock more than anything else, in fact. 

“You can say it while I've got my dick in you,” Match says. 

“I–oh god!” Thirteen gasps, because that’s as long as Match bothered waiting to shove back inside him and fuck him, very literally, like a jackhammer. “Fucking god!” 

“Hm,” Tim says. 

[oh-no-its-bird]

Madara as Regina Mills and the Infinite Tsukuyomi as his curse, season 1 of Once Upon a Time style

Tobirama as Emma, coming in to break the curse, and Hashirama kind of filling the roll of Snow White, the brothers unable to recognize or remember each other but feeling each other's loss all the same (which in itself is kind of the greatest punishment for Izuna's death that Madara could give, save for actually killing one of them)

Maybe Kagami as Henry? Him somehow breaking through the curse and finding Tobirama and trying to bring him back to the little town of Konoha, knowing he's one of the only people who can get through to Madara. But also Tobirama doesnt remember anything anyways, so to him he's just humoring this kid

Ok actually scratch, rewind, lets take this from the top;

Ok so. Madara casts the Infinite Tsukuyomi, but instead of it being a dream it casts Konoha into the modern world, where everyone is given some role to fill in the little town of Konoha, and only Madara remembers how they all got there.

Madara sets some stuff up, like gives certain people certain roles and memories, and also bc something something magic something something the perfect dream, within the bounds of the town, Izuna + some other dead people exist. Madara isn't especially focused on the other dead, just Izuna, so he actually is partially unaware of the details of who else may have gotten revived (Itama is totally there somewhere, lost in the crowds)

Now, Madara did not truly design this town, nor the lives of the people in it. He could have, but he didn't bc he was a bit focused on just his own wants. So a lot of families got separated, things got mixed up, that sort of thing. Including the Senju brothers. Hashirama and Itama have no idea that they're siblings, and Tobirama is another ballpark all on his own.

You see, in a bit of a petty act and also a bit of paranoia bc 'something something best sensor in history' something something 'dont wanna take any chances' and also definitely a bit of last minute impulsive 'hey fuck you, I get my brother back but you dont, bitch' Madara pressed the "you are just a normal man who has no family" illusion onto Tobirama then kicked him out of town

With that said and done, Izuna by his side, Hashirama also positioned suitably close (maybe as an aid since he's Madara is the mayor?) Madara goes ahead and pats himself on the back and enters the Infinite Tsukuyomi himself, forgetting it all and able to truly live that happy, blissfully unaware life he had worked so hard for.

(Just ignore the burning fires in the background where Madara didn't think to double check if anyone else's roles lined up well with their original selves. Or the fact that Itama and some other dead people are totally wandering around in the bg, both them, their families, and even Madara none the wiser)

So anyways, just like in Once Upon a Time, time itself is pretty much frozen. No one ages, every day runs about the same, and honestly who knows how long this town has been here now-- because its residents sure as hell dont!

But then.

One day, somehow little Kagami somehow awakens the Mangekyō Sharingan, possibly through a pure chance fluke of the illusion wavering for unrelated reasons (bc it also supresses any chakra use) and Kagami's mangekyō's ability, whatever tf it is, allows him to break himself out of the genjutsu.

Making him now the only person in the town who's aware of the fact that they're all in some sort of illusion-- though the details escape him bc hes like. 13 and didn't know everything happening behind the scenes.

Oh also note, the ages and time frame of this is just all over the place and we will not think ab it too hard.

So Kagami ofc begins to investigate, he has very little idea of whats going on at all but he does quickly pick up on the fact that he can find just about anyone in Konoha here-- but not his sensei. And Sensei always knows what to do, so now he has a mission

Queue Kagami somehow tracking Tobirama down in the outside world, just like Henry did with Emma. Don't know the specifics of how tho!

So now cut to Tobirama:

First off, him as a parallel to Emma Swan is actually so good its kind of funny. I say he gets to keep being somehow able to 'know when someone is lying' (it's the traces of his obnoxiously powerful sensing abilities leaking even through the best of genjutsu)

He's some kind of private detective maybe? Idk but whatever he is, he's freelance and travels a lot

(Which helps keep attention from the fact that he, even removed from the town, does not seem to age-- something even he himself has not noticed)

So Tobirama is just living his kind of shitty, honestly a little depressing life. He has no attachments; He always feels like he's missing something or someone; He can never seem to connect with anyone, and people even seem to forget he exists when he's out of sight for too long (almost as if they're made to forget, as if he really was never meant to be here or be seen)

And then one day this tiny kid is banging on his door calling him Sensei and begging him in tears to come back to the village because everyones gone crazy and someones cast a genjutsu over EVERYONE and Izuna is somehow alive again and--

Woah woah slow down. First, who the fuck are you actually.

*insert stressed Kagami brain car crash noises here*

So yeah !! Tobirama doesn't know who tf this kid is, but he will drive him back to town and give his parents a good talking to.

Hikaku, Kagami's polite and stressed looking uncle, is very relieved to see him back home

Kagami is literally begging Tobirama to stay it's actually painful to watch and no one can understand why he's so fucking pressed about it. And for some reason, Tobirama decides to stay. But only for a little bit, you hear?

(It will not be for a little bit.)

And just like that, the clock tower begins to move, and time begins to pass once more. And both Kagami and Tobirama slowly piece together what exactly happened to get them here, and how the town might be broken out of it's enchantment

OK SO WITH THAT SET UP / PREMISE ON THE GROUND LETS TALK FUN DETAILS

So like. Tobirama and Hashirama having no idea they're brothers. Double to that, Itama is somewhere around! And no one fucking knows it!

Madara does not know what he's done, he is living his best life fr fr, but in contrast to how Hashirama and Tobirama seem to instantly click, Madara just kind of fucking hates this guy on sight for some reason. There's a lot of tension there and everyone in the office is making bets on if they're gonna kiss (Izuna has money riding on it)

So like Madara, Izuna, Hikaku and Hashirama running the mayors office n stuff, with Madara as the mayor

Tobirama eventually ends up as Sherrif just like Emma which is also irony bc smthn smthn Uchiha police force agenda or whatever. And then him and Madara regularly get into very public fights over clashing ideals

Im tied between saying that the timeline for this is like, just wishy washy "hey dont worry ab it" and tossing in Kakashi's generation + others for fun and to fill in spaces

Or saying that just like how the Infinite Tsukuyomi seemed to bring some people back to life within the boundaries of the town, there are some legit time bending aspects of it, and just like how we have people who are supposed to be dead, we also have people who just shouldn't be born yet. Fun stuff!

But like Kakashi Obito and Rin are totally around. Somwhere. Also Sakumo but Kakashi still believes his father is dead and Sakumo can no longer remember Kakashi exists (rip)

Itama is the towns one weed dealer and also a plant scientist bc I fucking refuse to give up on the stoner Itama agenda, that is my default Itama in every AU now. Oh also he's like an adult, and we're also sticking with the him and Tobirama being twins agenda

He and Tobirama meeting for the first time with sheriff Tobirama arresting him for selling weed pass would be the funniest thing

Touka is the deputy sheriff and she and Tobirama get along like a house on fire, and then bc convoluted reasons they somehow rope Itama into working w them for parole/community service or smthn. Dream team!!

But yeah thats it thats the post thanks for listening Im gonna go stare at a wall now

[90shaladriel]

Rewatch of the ROP Finale Fight Scene

>> Warning: Clearly biased and delusional Haladriel here! <<

I admit that on the first watch I had some issues with the fight, not so much that it was a poor fight, or unbelievable, more that I felt there was more missed potentials. I think a lot of that was my fan or shipping head canons.

Could I imagine a different way it goes down or ends? Yes.

But here are some positives

From the very moment they are onscreen together, Sauron tries to de-escalate. He snuck up behind her and walked past while she was holding the Nine rings and Nenya. Her first words were a question, a pointed one, but it's satisfying they began on speaking terms, and then his calm response actually backed up my opinion that the Season 1 events that got them together were not his design.

She is the one that picked up the sword and swung first.

He struck back but she was the aggressor. What might have happened if she had run away? Or maybe used the Light rather Strength to overcome him?

Anyway. The shift to Halbrand was a bit of a low blow. He reiterated his feelings for her were not all an illusion and then immediately turned into an illusion of not only Halbrand, but then herself (?) and Celebrimbor. Like appearing as her murdered brother, these don't seem to be good strategies for winning someone over who mistrusts you. But ok, he is a villain and showing off perhaps.

As Halbrand he never strikes a blow at her, he speaks, walks away and dodges her first strikes. Even as Galadriel form he mainly parries her rather than attacks. Then as Celebrimbor he stomps the stone structure to collapse rather than striking at her. I could have used more Halbrand fighting her though over the magic show spectacle, but it was cool I will say.

When she once more asserts the Door is Shut, (because of course with her people's city in ruins, Celebrimbor tortured and killed, the threat of Sauron in the future, she has no choice narratively), and then takes that moment to kick him hard in the face does Sauron seem to become enraged. He is hurt, his pride is wounded to, just as Celebrimbor did with his dying words. He takes his anger out on the rocks and her sword but doesn't really try to land a killing blow.

Once she slices his cheek he seems to have said "I've had enough of her" and let the rage take over. Even then what does he do? He uses the crown not the sword to impale her. Which is pretty toxic, I do agree, although how many times as she tried to stab him and gotten a pass?

Caveat that I've never been stabbed in the chest, but that was very suggestive of them to say the least.

He could have reached over and taken the Nine and Nenya once more. But didn't. The speech he gave then about what he would have done for her as his Queen is really something. It's not meant to convince her of anything I don't think. He has lost that part of her (The Door is Shut). At least that's my thinking. He just wants her to know since at that moment he knows he would have won and has nothing to lose by telling her the truth of how he feels or maybe once felt.

By the way she was stabbed by two spikes but only seems to have one wound?

Still after the creepy face he lets her fall. Takes the nine and then asks her for Nenya.

I guess this is ambiguos. Is it plot armor for her? Did he really think the crown's poison would not kill her but drag her spirit to the unseen world? Was this the method he used to bind souls to his werewolves in the book legendarium?

It's not clear why he still would need her or want that versus take her life like he took Celebrimbor's.

The simplest explanation would be that he wants her alive and to be at his side, whatever he selfishly thinks of that.

My main disappointment was probably that we didn't get either a redemptive angle on Sauron or perhaps a Galadriel trying to tempt him back in someway. Maybe those were just crazy head canon ideas. I think having evil Sauron be obsessed with Galadriel and her light is about what I expected before coming into Season 2.

[teddypickrwritings]

*exciting noises* how do you think of a scenario about morning star!Ithaqua x simp!reader (feel free to skip if it is not in your liking) (´,,•ω•,,)♡

Anything for You - Night Watch (Morningstar) x Reader

A/N: Is it even possible not to simp for Morningstar? I could be biased, but that skin is one of the coolest limiteds. Sorry that this ended up being so short, and if Helel is a little OOC.

“What is it about me that makes you so devoted?” Helel asked you one day. He had a teasing lilt to his voice that masked his genuine curiosity.

You smiled a bit bashfully and broke your gaze from him. “You couldn’t have known it at the time, but…you saved me,” you said quietly. “I was an indentured servant at the time of the rebellion. Things got out of hand one day, and…well, my boss died in an accident caused by one of your followers. That was the happiest day of my life.”

Helel was taken aback from your honesty. He hadn’t expected you to open up like that. But now that he knew your story, your behavior towards him made more sense. Something akin to pride welled up in his chest. “Is that all?” he murmured, half to himself.

“Do you really want to know?” you asked.

“Enlighten me.”

In a bold move, you took his hands into your own. How tiny yours seemed, even though his were average-sized. Perhaps it was the claws that gave the illusion of them appearing bigger.

“Aside from you saving me, you’re just…beautiful,” you said, face reddening a bit and then contorting with regret. “Ah, that was foolish of me to say. You’ve never taken off your mask completely, so how would I know…”

Helel’s pale red lips curled into a smile. It occurred to him how much more praises you would sing for him if he took it off…no, what was he thinking?! Your foolish devotion was nice, yet you shouldn’t be so captivating to him. “So if I’m understanding correctly,” he said slowly, “you’d do anything for me?”

“Yes, my king,” you replied immediately.

“You would jump off a bridge if I told you to?”

“If it made you amused, yes.”

The king was perplexed now. “I don’t understand you. Your former life was all about following orders, yet you’re re-living it by being under my rule…”

You smiled. “There’s a difference. It was my choice to follow you. I didn’t have a choice before,” you explained.

Helel still didn’t really understand. But it was at that moment that he realized you were still holding his hands. Instead of pulling them away, he surprised you by holding yours. “You do realize that I could turn out to be just as awful, right?” he asked.

“Perhaps. But I believe you wouldn’t do anything drastic,” you said bravely. “You don’t seem like that kind of person.”

The room was quiet for a while as Helel processed your words. Once he did, he started laughing. Was it at your naivety? Or that you were probably right? He was a dangerous man, but certainly not as cruel as his brother.

“A-Are you okay, my king?” you fretted. Only now did you feel some semblance of embarrassment at your words.

Helel’s laughter died down and he looked at you with a wide smile. “You are truly something,” he said, a little breathless. He lifted your hands towards his face and kissed the tops of them very lightly. “Aren’t I lucky to have someone like you…”

It was your turn to be confused now, though you felt more flattered and excited than anything. “I take it that means that I’m allowed to be by your side?” you inquired with a cheeky little grin.

“If that is what you wish,” Helel said as nonchalantly as he could. Really, he was just as happy as you. It was a weird feeling for him.

But if it meant that he could receive your unrelenting adoration, see your cute face and hear your cute voice everyday, then so be it.