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queenmarytudor · 4 years ago

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The Spanish Princess S2 rewrite

The wonky timeline and horrible inaccuracies of The Spanish Princess season 2 inspired me to plot out the season myself.

I made some minor timeline changes to make things flow easier, speeding up the time between events while ignoring Catherine’s first daughter born in 1510 and Mary’s 1518 French betrothal - but I can guarantee my version is 100% more accurate than Emma Frost’s ;)

I used the same following events in the series as rough reference points:

Birth and death of Prince Hal - episode 1

Battle of Flodden - episode 2

Princess Mary’s birth - episode 4

Field of the Cloth of Gold - episode 6

but I’ve dramatically altered the context, featuring a lot more festivities, the births of Margaret Douglas and Frances Brandon, and Henry VIII’s affair with Mary Boleyn!

EPISODE 1 - SIR LOYAL HEART (1511)

King Henry VIII and his new bride, Queen Catherine of Aragon, are crowned king and queen of England, to great rejoicing.

The new court is full of revels; Henry dresses up as Robin Hood to surprise his young queen, along with his band of merry men. An amused Catherine is declared his Maid Marian. The happy king and queen dance together, while Mary, Henry VIII’s sister dances with the king’s best friend Charles Brandon. After the revelry, Catherine confesses to her husband she is with child.

Henry writes to his father in law Ferdinand that he considers him his new father, and prefers an alliance with him rather than any other prince.

Catherine is sent a blessed girdle by her sister, Margaret queen of Scots, to guarantee a safe birth. She had been given it by Catherine previously to use in the birth of her son, prince James of Scotland, and hopes it gives her similar luck. Catherine is touched by the kind gesture.

On New Years day, Catherine gives birth to a prince, named Henry for his father.

Henry goes to a shrine, Our Lady at Walsingham, to give thanks while Catherine recovers. The king of France, Louis XII, is made godfather of little Prince Hal.

When Catherine is churched and returns to court there are jousts to celebrate England’s new heir. Henry jousts as “Sir Loyal Heart”. His sister Mary gives Charles Brandon her favour before the pair joust. Henry is victorious, but Charles admits privately to Mary after that he let the new father win. Catherine happily awards her husband the main prize.

A grand feast follows, where a jubilant Henry encourages the people to take the gold from his costume. A stampede follows, and the laughing king and queen must be helped to safety.

Their happiness is interrupted by the sad news that prince Hal is dead.

The court is plunged into grief, and Henry, in an effort to distract himself, declares war on France, wanting to win back the land lost to England. He asks a mourning Catherine’s help in convincing her father to fight with him. She agrees eagerly; God has taken her son, but he will surely bless them with another when they defeat their ancient enemy.

EPISODE 2 - FLODDEN (1513)

There has been several months of planning war against France, and Catherine is in the early stages of pregnancy. She talks to the Venetian ambassador about hiring Italian ships for an invasion, asking about the cost. Henry admires her attitude, and declares her regent of England while he is in France.

On the eve of her husband’s departure, Catherine tells him their child has quickened, leaving Henry even more eager to win for the sake of their son’s future inheritance.

Before they cross the channel to fight, Mary promises Charles Brandon to look after her brother. He reassures her they will both be fine; Mary says he’ll look after the king, and she the queen.

In France, Henry, Charles, and the other men wait on Catherine’s father, Ferdinand of Aragon. He never arrives, and Henry is incensed to discover he has been betrayed. He successfully lays siege to Therouanne, taking the town and demolishing the walls, creating large fires. They carry on, leaving destruction behind them.

Meanwhile in England, a now visibly pregnant Catherine heads the Privy Council meetings and realises they will have to fight the Scots, allied with the angry French. She writes constantly to the king’s almoner, Thomas Wolsey, worrying how her husband fares.

Catherine, helped by Mary, busies herself preparing essential items for battle, including sewing banners of the royal arms of England and Spain.

Margaret writes a letter pleading her sister not to attack, but Catherine burns it and rallies her soldiers with a rousing speech, saying “English courage excels that of all other nations!”. The soldiers proudly take her banners to battle at Flodden field, where they slaughter the Scots.

Catherine and Mary wait anxiously before England is declared victorious and Catherine is brought James IV of Scotland’s body. She wants to send his head to her husband, but her men persuade her not to. She sends her friar, Friar Langley, to Scotland to comfort the now widowed Margaret.

Across the sea Charles Brandon distinguishes himself by capturing a gatehouse at Tournai. Henry is sent James IV’s bloodstained clothes and a letter from Catherine informing him of her success. Inspired, Henry leads the successful assault on Tournai.

In England, celebrations continue for their victory, but are dimmed when Catherine goes into labour early and gives birth to a stillborn son. Mary comforts her, promising Henry will be home soon.

Henry returns from France victorious, creating Charles Brandon the Duke of Suffolk for his actions. He assures Catherine all will be well now the enemy is defeated, as his sister Mary is to be betrothed to Louis XII of France to make peace between the two countries.

EPISODE 3 - GRIEF (1514)

In Scotland, a grieving Margaret is comforted by Archibald Douglas after being declared regent on behalf of her son, the now king James. He can relate to losing a spouse, as his wife died not long ago.

In England, Catherine is pregnant again, and sews Henry’s battle torn shirts as Mary gets fitted for her wedding dress. Henry’s sister is horrified at having to marry the French king.

Wolsey is now the archbishop of York, and Catherine is beginning to resent his growing influence and power at court. Henry has come up with an idea to claim Castile on behalf of Catherine. He and Catherine argue viciously over it. She thinks it is ridiculous; even if she agreed to fight with her father over the land, Castile is her sister Joana’s before hers, as their mother’s heir. Henry says Joana is mad and incapable of ruling, and therefore it passes to her, and by extension, him.

Catherine is miserable, not helped by her bad pregnancy. She is constantly sick, but disguises her pain to say goodbye to Mary. At the waterside before her departure, Mary gets her brother to promise she can choose her second husband. Henry agrees, and Mary sets sail for France with several ladies in waiting, including Mary and Anne Boleyn.

In Scotland, a lonely Margaret finds herself falling in love with Archibald Douglas.

Catherine is torn between her husband and her father, even more so when Henry decide to send Charles Brandon over to France to discuss a new alliance with King Louis against him.

In France, Charles talks to Louis about an alliance against Ferdinand but the French king is reluctant.

Catherine goes into early labour and gives birth to a son they name Henry for his father. He dies minutes after birth in his parents arms, and both are devastated.

Charles Brandon informs Mary of the queen’s loss; both comfort each other before Charles reluctantly sails back to England.

In Scotland, Margaret secretly marries Archibald Douglas, breaking the terms of her regency.

Back in England, Charles tells Henry he tried his best but Louis refused. Henry reveals he has dropped his plans to get revenge on Ferdinand for the sake of the queen.

Henry tells Catherine he has realised there are more important things to focus on - like her, recovering. They cuddle in bed, brought back together in shared grief for their son.

EPISODE 4 - THE THREE QUEENS (1515 - 1516)

In Scotland, Margaret’s secret marriage is discovered when she becomes pregnant. Besieged and desperate for help, she sends a letter to her brother in England.

In France, Mary becomes a widow after King Louis dies. Henry sends Charles Brandon to bring her home, not before making him promise not to marry her. As she had with Margaret, Catherine sends her friar, Friar Langley, to comfort another Tudor widow; she has no need for him now as her prayers have been answered - she is with child again.

In France, Friar Langley tells Mary that the privy council, especially Wolsey, will never let her and Charles be wed. The pair marry anyway, helped by the new French king, Francis. Francis also gives his blessing for the Duke of Albany to take up the regency of King James in Scotland.

Henry is furious with both of his sisters, as Mary has married without his permission and Margaret urges him to send an army to help her. Henry refuses to send an army, but says Margaret can stay at his court.

Archibald urges Margaret to obey the council and surrender her son to a newly returned Albany, but she refuses. After a long argument, a defeated Margaret turns over James to Albany and flees with Archibald to her brothers court for the sake of her unborn child.

Mary reminds Henry “as you well know, I have always borne good mind towards my lord of Suffolk.” She beseeches him to “keep all the promises that you promised me when I took my leave of you by the waterside.”

Wolsey convinces Henry to allow Mary and Charles to return home to England if they pay a fine. To sweeten her brother’s disposition, Mary steals a large French jewel, the Mirror of Naples, for him.

On the Scottish borders, Archibald refuses to cross into England with Margaret and reveals he intends to make peace with Albany. A betrayed Margaret carries on to London without her husband.

Mary and Charles return home to England, but her lady Anne Boleyn decides to stay on with the new French queen.

All 3 Tudor queens, Catherine, Mary, and Margaret, are now back together in the English royal court, and pregnant.

Margaret has still not forgiven Catherine for the role she played in her first husband’s death. She asks for her blessed girdle back, and Catherine agrees.

Shortly after, Margaret gives birth to a daughter, also named Margaret. Catherine visits her and apologizes for the hurt she has caused. She gives her new dresses and jewels that befit the queen regent of Scotland, and Margaret thaws.

Catherine tries to reconcile the three Tudor siblings, saying their children will all be cousins and it would be a shame to make them enemies as they will be the future royal family.

Henry forgives his sisters; he delights in wearing the Mirror of Naples Mary has stolen from King Francis, and tells Margaret Archibald’s actions were “Done like a Scot”.

Grand jousts are put on to celebrate Mary and Margaret’s return to court. Catherine and Mary watch on proudly as their husbands compete against each other, while Margaret is cheered by a letter arriving from her husband, saying he is trying to negotiate with Albany.

Catherine successfully gives birth to a little girl, named Mary in honour of her aunt. Wolsey, now a Cardinal, is made her godfather, while Margaret Pole is made her godmother and governess. A delighted Henry assures the Venetian ambassador “We are both young; if it was a daughter this time, by the grace of God the sons will follow.”

EPISODE 5 - MAY DAY (1517 - 1518)

Henry and Catherine are head over heels with their surviving child, now a thriving toddler. Mary is constantly flaunted by her parents to ambassadors and courtiers who dote on her; the king names her his pearl of the world, and brags she never cries. The royals are informed of attacks on foreigners in London, but caught up in their happiness, they brush off the news.

The three queens meet at Margaret’s London townhouse, with their children, Princess Mary, Margaret Douglas and Henry Brandon. Mary is pregnant again, while Margaret is eager to return to Scotland as the people around her household are becoming increasingly hostile towards her.

On May Day there are large scale riots in the city, and royal officers including Charles Brandon are sent to suppress them. Three hundred rebels are rounded up and sent to the king and queen. An emotional Catherine, Margaret and Mary beg for Henry to have mercy on them for the sakes of their wives and children, which is given.

Margaret leaves with her daughter to reunite with her husband in Scotland. Mary and an increasingly devout Catherine accompany her northwards while on pilgrimage to visit the Our Lady shrine at Walsingham, the same place her husband visited in thanks after she gave birth to their short lived son. Catherine suspects she is pregnant again.

While his wife is away, Henry entertains his daughter, and writes a Defence of the Seven Sacraments with Thomas More. Increasingly bored as the months pass, he begins an affair with one of Catherine’s ladies, Bessie Blount.

On her return to court, Catherine tells Henry his sister has given birth to a healthy girl named Frances in honour of the French king, and surprises Henry with her own big belly, obviously with child. He orders Te Deum to be sung in the churches in celebration.

In her absence, Henry has grown a beard as part of a peace pact with Francis, but Catherine dislikes it and asks him to shave. He agrees happily after her surprise.

Unfortunately, their joy is as short lived as their child; Catherine soon gives birth to a daughter who dies not long after.

EPISODE 6 - CLOTH OF GOLD (1519 - 1520)

Catherine and Henry take comfort in Mary and the new title, “Defender of the Faith”, that Henry has been given by the Pope. Catherine is teaching her daughter Latin, and all is well until it is discovered that Bessie Blount is pregnant. She is sent away from court to a nearby priory to avoid the scandal being discovered.

Back in Scotland, Margaret discovers her husband Archibald has been living openly in her house with a mistress.

Cardinal Wolsey devises a royal summit with the French king, the Field of the Cloth of Gold, to cement their peace treaty. Henry is eager to see his rival, King Francis, in the flesh.

Bessie has given birth to a bastard son, Henry, who Henry immediately recognises as his own and gives the surname Fitzroy. He makes Wolsey his son’s godfather, and sends him to a secret christening. Henry promises Catherine Fitzroy will be kept away from court, but he will do his fatherly duty. He sends some of Princess Mary’s ladies to care for him.

Margaret writes to her brother she wants a divorce. Catherine sympathises with her sister as she is in a similar position, but urges Margaret to commit more fully to her husband, as she is. Henry and Catherine are determined to put the Fitzroy argument behind them and spend time with Princess Mary as a loving royal family.

Margaret discovers the Duke of Albany has been invited to the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and urges him to convince her brother to help her.

Henry, Catherine, Henry’s sister Mary and Charles Brandon attend the Field of the Cloth of Gold in France. In their absence, England is ruled by Princess Mary, Margaret Pole and the Privy Council.

At the Field of the Cloth of Gold, the Duke of Albany talks to Henry; again Henry and Catherine refuse to support his sister in a divorce. Margaret needs to work out her differences with her husband, for the sake of their daughter.

Catherine and Queen Claude of France become friends, bonding over their husband’s rivalry and their ladies in waiting becoming mistresses. Catherine is grateful Henry is discreet with his lovers, unlike Francis with Francoise de Foix, and that in England there is no official recognised royal mistress position.

King Francis proposes a match between his son and Princess Mary; Henry agrees to allow some French ambassadors to visit England.

In England, the French ambassadors meet with Mary. Mary, watched over by Margaret Pole, entertains them by playing the virginals and offering them strawberries, her favourite.

In France, the kings hear the ambassadors are enchanted with the princess. Catherine is secretly displeased, as she favours her nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, as Mary’s future husband. She says her daughter is far too young to marry, and the four royals agree they will wait until Mary is older for the pair to wed.

At the festivities, Catherine’s lady Mary Boleyn reunites with her sister Anne, who returns with them back to England as one of Catherine’s ladies.

EPISODE 7 - THE KING’S PEARL (1522 - 1523)

Catherine concentrates more on her daughter’s future. Hearing of his talents, she meets the great scholar Juan Luis Vives and commissions him to write a book on female education for Princess Mary.

A desperate Margaret writes that her marriage to Archibald is invalid as James IV is still alive. Catherine is incredulous; she had seen the Scottish king’s dead body herself. Catherine and Henry again refuse to support her.

After an annoyed Henry tells Edward Stafford off for failing to keep the Welsh in line, Catherine persuades Henry that an Imperial marriage would be better for England and their daughter.

Charles V visits England, where a grand pageant is performed in his honour. Henry’s sister Mary plays Beauty, while Mary Boleyn is Kindness and Anne Boleyn Perseverance. Afterwards, Anne flirts with a courtier, Henry Percy; she says she likes his beard.

In the midst of the festivities Edward Stafford, still annoyed over being rebuked by the king, makes a snide remark overheard by Wolsey.

Princess Mary, wearing a Valentines brooch for her cousin, meets Charles V. Catherine says he cannot leave without seeing Mary dance. Mary does not need to be asked twice; Catherine watches her daughter proudly as she impresses the emperor.

In Scotland, Margaret commands Albany to appeal directly to the Pope for a divorce, as Archibald has turned her mad. He agrees to help her. Margaret and Albany finally come to an agreement over the regency of James, which is confirmed by the Scottish parliament. Margaret is not regent, but is able to help her son govern.

Princess Mary is formally betrothed to Charles V, but after he leaves England Charles breaks the treaty and marries Isabella of Portugal. This infuriates Henry, who takes his anger out on Catherine. They have a blazing argument, where he blames her not only for her nephew jilting their daughter, but for not bearing a male heir. Edward Stafford has been listening to prophecies that predict his death and intends to kill him himself after their argument; England is not safe if he were to die without a successor. Catherine argues they have an heir; her mother ruled as a queen in her own right, and she herself ruled the country for him when he was in France.

Juan Luis Vives presents his finished book to Catherine. She tells him “If I had to choose between extreme sorrow and extreme well-being, I think I would prefer the former to the latter, for people in disgrace need only some consolation, while those who are too successful frequently lose their minds.”

She is comforted by Vives’ assurance that she is a good queen and mother, and a model for all woman. Henry meanwhile, is comforted by Mary Boleyn while Edward Stafford is executed for treason.

EPISODE 8 - DECLARE, I DARE NOT (1525 - 1527)

Archibald approaches the Scottish parliament heavily armed, but Margaret orders cannons to be fired at him. Henry Stewart, the master of artillery, is eager to obey, but the English ambassadors are appalled at their actions. They tell her not to attack her husband, but Margaret replies they should “go home and not meddle in Scottish matters”.

In a ceremony, Catherine watches on as her husband announces Princess Mary will go to the Welsh Marches with Margaret Pole and her own council to learn how to govern. It appears Henry has changed his mind and is prepared to accept his daughter as the first ruling queen of England; Catherine is delighted, especially when Mary is given the executed Stafford’s lands and the lordships of Bromfield, Chirkland and Yale to support her new role.

In the same ceremony, a proud Mary and Charles Brandon look on with their daughter Frances as their son Henry is made earl of Lincoln. Shortly after Henry Fitzroy is made Duke of Richmond and Somerset. Catherine is furious, especially when Henry declares his bastard and household will go to the northern borders to defend England against the Scots.

Mary Boleyn gives birth to a girl, Catherine Carey, named in honour of the queen. Catherine says the child looks just like her father.

Henry and Wolsey press ahead with arranging a marriage treaty with France as discussed at the Field of the Cloth of Gold; Catherine, desperately wanting to make amends with her husband, reluctantly agrees.

Wolsey tells Henry Percy and Anne Boleyn off for getting betrothed without approval from the king. She is only a knight’s daughter, and beneath Percy’s rank; he is sent from court to marry Mary Talbot.

An ambassador for the French marriage, Bishop Tarbes, arrives to see Princess Mary. Tarbes questions Henry and Catherine about their daughters legitimacy. Catherine brushes off Tarbes’ concerns, as the Pope had given her and Henry a dispensation to marry even if her marriage to Arthur had been consummated.

Henry visits Mary Boleyn and congratulates her, wondering if her daughter is his. While looking after her sister, Anne talks with Henry; sparks fly.

Margaret is relieved to hear the Pope has finally sanctioned a divorce from Archibald. Though she acknowledges she will have to let Archibald attend Parliament, she is free to marry again should she choose. She drinks to her success with Henry Stewart, acknowledging he is quite handsome…

Henry has grown his beard out again, but this time refuses to shave when Catherine reminds him she hates beards. He insinuates to Anne Boleyn she could be his mistress, but she refuses after seeing how he’s treated her sister.

Princess Mary is formally betrothed to the French king’s son and there is a joust to celebrate. Henry competes with the motto “Declare, I Dare Not”, in stark contrast to Sir Loyal Heart in episode 1, and Catherine is confused.

With the celebrations over, an emotional Henry and Catherine must say goodbye to their daughter. Together they watch on as Mary, helped by Margaret Pole, prepares to leave court for her own estates in the Welsh Marches. As he holds his wife, Henry’s gaze cannot help but drift to a smiling Anne Boleyn nearby…

Embracing her daughter, Catherine gives Vives’ book to Mary as a farewell present. She promises her she will one day be queen of France - and England.

In a flash forward years later, Henry and Catherine’s daughter Mary is crowned the first queen regnant of England, to great rejoicing.

The last episode basically comes full circle to the first, with several parallels:

France are enemies/friends

Henry jousts for Catherine/Anne

Catherine loses Prince Hal/Princess Mary

Henry and Catherine are crowned/Mary is crowned

and we all know how the future will be, with a queen replaced because she can’t produce a male heir…

#let me know what you think!#the spanish princess #i know i focused more on the tudor's and not lina/oviedo #but just imagine them living their best life watching all the craziness unfold #i was going to have her be the lady henry dismisses in anger after catherine hating fitzroy becoming a duke but thought that was too mean!#they deserve their happy ending and catherine deserves a friend :)

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years ago

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It's okay if people dislike Jon and like theon. But saying theon was better than Jon is absolutely ridiculous. Jon unlike theon will always loyal to starks despite being targ and I don't think it would be much conflicts like with theon who was ward to starks and betray them.

Hi anon!!

Not to defend Theon’s specific actions here, but I think it’s wrong to define goodness as “loyalty to the Starks”.

Theon was not their ward. He was their hostage. His father tried for independence, the Realm knocked him down, they took his ten-year-old kid to make sure he didn’t try and rise up again. Theon was a little baby kraken plucked from the sea and planted into Winterfell with the implicit threat of consequences if his father got rebellious again. A hostage. He owed the Starks absolutely nothing.

His situation is vaguely comparable to that of Sansa. She is friendly with Myrcella and Tommen, who are sweet kids, but she is (rightfully) mistrusted by her captors.

Here’s what he thinks:

As if ten years in Winterfell could make a Stark. Lord Eddard had raised him among his own children, but Theon had never been one of them. The whole castle, from Lady Stark to the lowliest kitchen scullion, knew he was hostage to his father's good behavior, and treated him accordingly. Even the bastard Jon Snow had been accorded more honor than he had.

Lord Eddard had tried to play the father from time to time, but to Theon he had always remained the man who'd brought blood and fire to Pyke and taken him from his home. As a boy, he had lived in fear of Stark's stern face and great dark sword. His wife was, if anything, even more distant and suspicious.

As for their children, the younger ones had been mewling babes for most of his years at Winterfell. Only Robb and his baseborn half brother Jon Snow had been old enough to be worth his notice. The bastard was a sullen boy, quick to sense a slight, jealous of Theon's high birth and Robb's regard for him. For Robb himself, Theon did have a certain affection, as for a younger brother . . . but it would be best not to mention that. (ACOK, Theon I)

To expect gratitude and loyalty, would be to think as Cersei does:

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name. "I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son. When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss." (AFFC, Cersei IV)

Of course, that’s not the whole of it. The Starks are not remotely as toxic as the Lannisters, or even Theon’s own family. He saw how they loved each other as a family. A part of Theon was as hungry to truly belong to them as Jon.

Sansa was the pretty one. He remembered a time when he had thought that Lord Eddard Stark might marry him to Sansa and claim him for a son, but that had only been a child's fancy. (ADWD, Reek I)

Or here:

But under the hood, his hair was white and thin, and his flesh had an old man's greyish undertone. A Stark at last, he thought.

(ADWD, The Prince of Winterfell)

His choice to conquer Winterfell was obviously rooted in the deep-seated trauma of having been powerless there, and the irreconcilable desire to truly belong. Conquering Winterfell made him the powerful avenger of his own captivity, while granting him ownership of the place that had always rejected him. And it proved how very much of a Kraken he was. So, a twisted bandaid on a lot of wounds. But not a betrayal. Theon’s conflicted feelings still don’t mean he owes the Starks anything.

(Mind, conquering and killing people makes Theon a bad person! Just not a traitor.)

The thing Theon truly betrayed was this:

Theon heard himself say, "My lady, why do you hate the Starks?"

She studied him. "For the same reason you love them."

Theon stumbled. "Love them? I never … I took this castle from them, my lady. I had … had Bran and Rickon put to death, mounted their heads on spikes, I …"

"… rode south with Robb Stark, fought beside him at the Whispering Wood and Riverrun, returned to the Iron Islands as his envoy to treat with your own father. Barrowton sent men with the Young Wolf as well. I gave him as few men as I dared, but I knew that I must needs give him some or risk the wroth of Winterfell. So I had my own eyes and ears in that host. They kept me well informed. I know who you are. I know what you are. Now answer my question. Why do you love the Starks?"

"I …" Theon put a gloved hand against a pillar. "… I wanted to be one of them …" (ADWD, The Turncloak)

He loved them and at the same time lived in mortal fear of them, was distrusted by them. A ten-year-old boy. That’s an incredibly lonely way to be. His only defense was his pride and his smug smile, pretending to be above it all.

“Once he does so, I shall release my own captives taken in the Whispering Wood and the Battle of the Camps, save Jaime Lannister alone, who will remain my hostage for his father's good behavior."

She studied Theon Greyjoy's sly smile, wondering what it meant. That young man had a way of looking as though he knew some secret jest that only he was privy to; Catelyn had never liked it. (ACOK, Catelyn I)

They never helped him resolve that conflict. He tried to ignore it, he tried to belong to both, he twisted himself into a furious pretzel and in the end he just viciously lashed out at any available target until he turned into a monster - and then he got all that and more returned upon himself.

Is Theon “better” than anyone? No. Is Jon a better person? Seeing as he hasn’t murdered any innocent children and is very proccupied with protecting the entire Realm from annihilation, I would argue yes.

But not because he is loyal to the Starks. That’s not an inherently morally superior stance. Jon swore an oath to the Watch, it’s even illoyal in its own way to prefer the Starks. What makes it okay is that a) Jon is merely being true to himself in his heart, the way Theon couldn’t be, and b) that he doesn’t let that cloud his actions within his duty to the Watch. Except, oh, then he does - stabbing ensues.

Their struggles with loyalty are similar but not the same. It’s not the measure by which we should judge them, Only by their actual actions toward other people.

#asoiaf #theon greyjoy #jon snow #loyalty #hostage #asks

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lilacandladybugs · 4 years ago

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hey since youre talking about christianity, i was wondering if you could answer a question ive been curious about. if god cares about people and if jesus died for our sins, then why does hell exist? and if god cares about us then why did he let so much bad stuff happened in his name, and even cause it, like with the noah’s arch story?

sorry if any of this is wrong ive never read the bible, but ive had bad experiences with christianity in the past and the way you talk about it seems much nicer than the way i know it

I don’t think I can answer this question in a way that doesn’t come across as pretentious or like I’m asking for an argument or just being straight up unsatisfying. But I just am going to try anyway because i'm hoping that maybe this will be comforting or helpful to someone. I’m sorry if this is offensive I am really trying my best, please take this all in the best possible way and be gracious with me

The thing about this ask is that it’s actually a bunch of different questions, and since each of them individually is really hard to answer so I’m going to narrow it down to just one ( im sorry ;-; ) . The one I’ve thought about the most is “Why does God let bad things happen if he loves us?”

When this question first really occurred to me, I was already a believer. So I was already pretty convinced that God exists logically, from the perspective of history, philosophy, science, and my personal experience. I believed in the /existence/ of the God who is represented in the scriptures. (I doubt anyone wants it but I can give you a list of resources if you want to look into any of that.) The struggle for me was whether or not all that evidence held true in the face of this moral dilemma; the problem of evil in the presence of a loving God.

But I just couldn’t turn my back on the concept of a moral grounding in God. I had a philosophy professor tell me that people are mortal and so we shouldn’t grieve them like they’re immortal, that grief is a choice, and that trauma is a choice. I respected her so much, but I just couldn’t accept that. There’s nothing more unsettling to me than suggesting that cruelty and death and suffering are only wrong because you think they are, and not because they’re violating sacred ancient laws. My friends dying, people hurting me, that isn’t just in my head. It’s /real/. They’re really dead, and it really matters. People really did something wrong when they hurt me, and it isn’t my fault for being hurt. It’s their fault for being cruel. And their cruelty is objectively morally wrong.

I realized that if I became an atheist I would have to accept the fact that there isn’t /objectively/ any difference between right and wrong. There isn’t any theoretical “right way” that the world should be. But to me, there is a right way it should be. There is a right way and it was lost because of sin.

It was I guess comforting that Christianity provided the premises I needed to ask a question like this. Evil exists. And love exists. So how can God exist? What a comforting question, in a way. To get to grieve, to be angry, to wonder what’s going on, to want things to be different. It was validating i guess

Don’t get me wrong i was FURIOUS i was so angry. I was so angry and so conflicted I kind of thought I might just like rip apart at my seams but I just felt caught between a rock and a hard place to be either abandoned by God or to not even be able to think about my experiences in a way that felt coherent.

He showed up though. I remember swearing at him, and laying up at night thinking he wasn’t there, I told him I wouldn’t have to have trauma if he would’ve stepped in, that my friends wouldn’t be dead, that he let it happen to me, that he just /witnessed/ it. And man idk he just showed up. He showed up every time. I almost walked away like five times that summer. And every time he sent someone, there was always someone that showed up and talked to me like out of nowhere. Or music, or scripture, or something someone said in passing.

The night that it was really bad was when I realized that the only person who could save me was God and I cried out to him, and I just idk I’ve never been so desperate. I went to church the next day against my will and the sermon felt like it was written for me specifically. I cried through the whole thing.

If God is goodness, then how can I say he isn’t with me and around me constantly? In the sunrise and sunset, in the stars, in flowers, and in kind words. In sermons. In friends and family. In all the coincidences that stopped me from becoming an atheist, all of the answered prayers and the impossibilities. That’s why my side blog is called @in-the-whisper. Because I felt him there, even though it hurt, he was with me in the quiet and in the silence, in his whisper in a thousand different ways.

I was posed this question by someone who was there for me in one of those moments where I almost walked away from God, “Is sufficiency abundant?” I guess I thought it was. Where was God? In the peace that surpasses understanding. In the knowledge that everything is finished, that he died for us, that he didn’t abandon us. That whatever terrible things happen, he was willing to take all of the consequences for that onto himself in the person of Jesus. That one day he will set things right, even though it isn’t right right now.

It comes down to the Gospel (good news, core story of the Christian faith); humanity actively chose to walk away from God in an act of rebellion. We had free will because God created us tenderly to be in a loving relationship with him, and loving relationships must be based on free will and they must be two way. So he let us walk away from him, and away from the sustainer of life our bodies break, our world crumbles, and we die. In order to bridge that gap, he chose to die in our place, so that we could re enter that free will relationship with him if we so choose. He died on the cross, descended into hell, and then in three days he rose from the grave, defeating death. And one day he will return on a white horse to rescue us and to take the world back as his own. If I believed that to be true, then I believed in the greatest intervention in human history that has ever occurred. The God of the Bible isn’t a distant God, "God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him." 1 John 4:9 He did the unthinkable for us.

Living in light of the gospel helped me to understand the way that God is present in my life, my present, past, and in my future. It gave me peace. When Horatio G. Spafford’s two daughters and wife died in a shipwreck, he wrote this,

“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul."

“Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control: that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul.

“My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought. My sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

“And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight The clouds be rolled back as a scroll The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend Even so, it is well with my soul!

“It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

I don’t have an answer for your question. What I know is that I am willing to rest in the knowledge of my personal experiences and my research that God exists, that he is loving, and that he is powerful, just, and wise. Even the winds and the seas obey him, the mountains are like pebbles to him, thunder rolls at the sound of his voice. He had thought before time began, he gave all knowledge and all wisdom to us.

Why do bad things happen also brings up the question, why do good things happen? Who do we have to thank when we get up in the morning and can see or hear or move or are alive in general? Why are we so blessed as to have two days and not just one? Where do mornings and complexity and beauty and wonder come from? They come from him. Not because we need it, but because he wants to give it to us. Enjoyment, existence, love, laughter, thought, beauty, heartbreak. The world is just as beautiful as it is terrible, and why should it be beautiful? Because he wants it to be that way.

God is so patient. He is so patient and kind and powerful, and he wants to hear your questions. Some of them, like this one, are in my opinion something that you have to talk to him about directly. He gives us thought and logic and reason and wisdom, and he asks for us to engage him. He will answer.

If any believers are reading this, I want you to know that it is enough to cry out to him in pain. It is enough to want to want to believe in him. He would so much rather hear from you in your anger than never hear from you at all. Seek him out, he will find you. He will chase after you.

I bet that he would chase after me, bet my life on it. I might not know the answer, but I am confident enough in what I do know that I’m willing to bet my existence that God will come true on his promises, that he will deliver me, that everything will be okay, that he is bigger than my trauma, and that he will hold me.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. 9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. 10 As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, 11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. 12 You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. 13 Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper, and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the Lord’s renown, for an everlasting sign, that will endure forever.” Isaiah 55:8-13

And I’m holding him to that promise.

#christianity #religion #christianity tw #religion tw #god #grief #grief tw #ask to tag #anon #this is definitely insufficient and im sorry #this is all i have to offer right now #its a hard thing to articulate ig #not mcyt

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first-of-her-nxme · 4 years ago

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It looks like one of my answers doesn’t show up in the tags so I’ll copy it here, just in case. It might be interesting for the asoiaf fans, Jaqen’s and Arya’s fans in particular;)

So, the question I received was:

Where is the coherent foreshadowing for Jaqen and Arya? It all seems taken out of fucking nowhere

And here we go:

It starts in the very first book when Arya names her direwolf after the queen who married a Dornishman, and it never stops because Arya and Jaqen are repeating Lyanna’s and Rhaegar’s story. Of course, in ASOIAF, the story is never exactly the same. Which by the way gives me hope that at least they will have their happy ending. Or the closest thing to a happy ending, which in George Martin’s world means less heartbreaking than the others’s endings;d

Trouble with Jaqarya foreshadowing is that George Martin started writing the story with a five year gap in mind between Arya’s arrival in Braavos and A Dance with Dragons. So, when he first envisioned the story he already had a 15 year old Arya in mind. It means that Arya and Jaqen would have reunited in A Dance with Dragons already and she would have been old enough for a romance. It also means that Jaqen’s identity would have been revealed in A Dance with Dragons.

But, since GRRM abandoned the idea, we have to wait for the reveal till The Winds of Winter. As a consequence the whole build-up is made of hints, symbols, clues, metaphors, parallels to R/L and so on. Nothing is said explicitly because it would ruin the big reveal of who Jaqen is and what’s ahead of them.

So, from the top:

1. Arya names her direwolf after Nymeria, a queen who found home far from her own country and who married a Dornishman. Jaqen is half Dornish, he is Elia’s and Rhaegar’s son, Aegon VI. I already pinned the answer about his true identity to my profile so please read it if you need further explanation.

Thanks to the Game of Thrones finale we know that Arya will sail across the sunset sea. I searched through the books after s8 and of course I found information that they both, J&A, will leave. I guess I need to thank D&D for Arya’s ending, otherwise I would have overlooked the clues completely.

So, either they will find home far away, somewhere in the sea, or in Braavos or in Dorne or they will return to Jaqen’s castle ( the Red Keep or Dragonstone ). Wherever they will stay, it’s going to be far from Arya’s birth place, Winterfell.

2. Nymeria has golden eyes, Arya thinks that they shine like golden coins - it’s another connection to Jaqen ( Aegon ) who switches his iron coin for a golden dragon in A Feast for Crows. The coin is poisoned and kills Pate but it’s also a symbol of courtship. Pate needed it to claim his beloved Rosey.

3. On the way to King’s Landing, Arya is picking up flowers in the Neck, perhaps in the same area where the flowers for Lyanna’s crown had been picked. Ned is deeply moved when he sees Arya with the flowers because she reminds him of Lya. The flowers are purple - purple is the symbol of royal birth, of the rightful heir to the throne whom Jaqen ( Aegon ) is. They are called poisoned kisses and burn Arya’s hands - Jaqen is using poisons and represents fire. He is a Targ, a future dragon rider. Arya will also burn her hands and lips in the House of Black and White while learning to make poisons.”Poisoned kisses” is a bad name, it implies doomed love which reminds us of R/L. For Arya it means a love for the murderer. Hopefully with a happier ending than Lya’s love.

4. Ned tells Arya that she will marry a king and rule his castle and they will have sons. Like I said before, Jaqen is the rightful king. In A Clash of Kings, Arya even reveals his identity though it is very cleverly concealed in the scene when she gives him his own name. To be brief: it's a play on words; he asks her if the name of the king she wants dead is Joffrey and she answers the name ( of the king ) is Jaqen H’ghar. So Joffrey is not the king, he’s impostor, the true king is Jaqen.

5. In King’s Landing, Arya has dreams of Rhaenys though she doesn’t realize it. She also catches Rhaenys’s cat, her “little dragon”, and kisses its forehead. In Harrenhal, Jaqen kisses her forehead as if to return the kiss;)

6. Arya ruins Sansa’s silk dress and offers to make her a new one. Sansa tells her she could make a dress good enough only to clean the pigsty.

That pigsty is kind of a big deal.

In fairytales, princes disguise themselves as swineherds to hide their true identity, like in H.C Andersen’s story “The Swineherd”.

George Martin used this motif in his books too. In AFFC Jaqen wears the face of Pate “the Pig Boy”. Arya, on the other hand, lives in Braavos in his house, makes dresses and sweeps the floors. She lives in the Pig Boy’s house, in the pigsty, and cleans it - just like Sansa has said. Only the pigsty is the prince’s house like Ned has foretold.

7. In Harrenhal, Jaqen wakes Arya from her wolf dream and kisses her. This motif comes from the Sleeping Beauty fairytale - only the prince can awake the sleeping beauty.

8. Also in Harrenhal, Jaqen and Arya make their “weasel soup”. They pour hot broth on the guards to free the Northmen. Jaqen gives Arya a pair of padded gloves and he is wearing the identical gloves himself, while they struggle the pot of soup between them - it’s a metaphor for sharing power. Gloves are symbol of power and noble birth.

The cooking pot is another motif borrowed from “The Swineherd” - the prince has a magic pot that plays a song. Jaqen ( Aegon ) has a song too, a song of Ice and Fire.

9. Jaqen gives Arya his coin ( we already know it’s a symbol of courtship ) and she pays with it for a passage across the narrow sea. She crosses the sea to get to the House of Black and White, the house of darkness.

In Greek mythology, the souls of dead people pay with a coin to cross the river and get to the Underworld. Arya, like Persephone, is first shown while picking up flowers and then she descends into the Underworld seduced by GRRM’s version of Hades. Hades has a three-headed dog, Jaqen has a prophecy ( and the coin ) of a three-headed dragon.

10. When Arya meets the Ghost of High Heart, the witch compares her to Jenny, a girl with flowers in her hair who fell in love with a Targaryen prince.

11. In ASOS, Arya listens to Tom Sevenstrings playing My Featherbed song. The song was written by Rhaegar for Lyanna. It tells the story of Jenny and Duncan Targaryen but Rhaegar concealed his own feelings for Lya in the text. The lyrics refer to Arya and Jaqen as well - they repeat J/D and R/L story of a Targaryen prince and a girl from the North.

Of course Rhaegar didn’t know about his son and Lya’s niece when he wrote the song:))

The song is not about Gendrya, like people think. I already mentioned it in one of my answers. It’s very important because it helps to understand what had happened in Harrenhal and what will happen to Arya and Jaqen.

Arya hears My Featherbed after Gendry invited her to the smithy. He knocked her over and they wrestled. Her dress was torn and she looked as if someone had tried to hurt her. Right after Tom plays Rhaegar’s song. Gendry obviously didn’t want to hurt Arya but that scene explains what Robert did in Harrenhal after Rhaegar left - he was furious that Rhaegar crowned Lya so he demanded “his rights”. That’s why Lyanna ran off. Rhaegar was her rescue.

12. In the House of Black and White Arya sleeps under the red blanket which reminds her of her favorite blanket from Winterfell. I’m sure it’s Jaqen’s blanket, and perhaps his bed too, because red is his color: red hair, red poison, red war, red god, red comet over Harrenhal, red dragon (?) - red accompanies him throughout his journey. Of course black is his color too, it’s the color of the Stranger. Red and black are the colors of House...

13. In Arya’s Braavosi chapters GRRM concealed the story of the beginning of Rhaegar’s and Lyanna’s love in Harrenhal. But that’s a massive story to tell so I will write a separate post about it.

14. Finally, in Mercy chapter Arya hears the story of the first Black Pearl of Braavos, the pirate queen, and her affair with King Aegon IV. She sighs wistfully and says that she would love to see a dragon too. Dragon here means more than an animal, GRRM once again hints at her future romance with the Dragon.

15. “Mercy” chapter parallels the prologue to A Feast for Crows. Originally it was meant to be in AFFC but GRRM eventually moved it to TWOW.

Perhaps GRRM wanted Jaqen’s chapter to start AFFC and Arya’s chapter to end the book. The prologue is a chapter with two main motifs: dragons and love. “Mercy” is a chapter of revenge and love for a dragon. The prologue starts at night when Pate’s beloved is sleeping naked in her room. “Mercy” starts at dawn when Arya wakes up naked in her room and sees a dragon boat passing beneath her window.

But those two chapters are so rich in parallels that they deserve a separate post as well:)

16. While Jaqen and Arya are having their adventures in Oldtown and Braavos respectively, in the North Mance is infiltrating Winterfell. Mance is posing as a bard. He sings a song of a Dornishman’s wife in turn with the Northman’s daughter. It’s another delightful hint that the Northman’s daughter, Ned’s daughter is ( well, will be ) the Dornishman’s wife.

As you can see it’s a pretty massive foreshadowing. I probably still omitted something because there are really tons of those clues.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the read.

Thanks for the ask :)

#Jaqen H'ghar #Arya Stark #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #jaqen h'ghar is aegon targaryen

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lauwrite1225 · 4 years ago

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There’s something in your eyes. || Alexander Stewart x OC

PART 1.

For the sake of Scotland, Eileen Douglas is to marry the young Alexander Stewart, a marriage none of them wanted.

Eileen was standing perfectly right on the stairs of Bothwell Castle. Her mother snapped her hand when she tried to pull the skirt of her dress, trying to make herself more comfortable in her tight corset.

“Don’t fuss.” Her mother glared at her and Eileen had to do her best to not roll her eyes.

Instead she kept staring at the horizon where horsemen were approaching. She could count ten, all wearing the Stewart tartan. The closer they were, the more she could notice her brother William’s face twist with disgust. The small group passed the gates and her father walked down the stairs quickly to welcome them. A first man climbed down from his horse graciously. He had a huge smile on his face as he saluted her father, but it seemed to repulse William even more as he mumbled curses in Gaelic. The two men walked toward them and Eileen felt her mother’s hand in her back, prompting her to climb down the stairs. When she found herself face to face with Stewart she offered him her most beautiful smile, one her mother could be proud of after teaching her how to look pleased even when she wasn’t. But she hadn’t to fake it that much, the man in front of her actually seeming sympathetic.

She grabbed the skirt of her dress and lightly curtseyed. “Duke.”

“Lady Eileen. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He smiled.

“The pleasure is shared.” And she could easily imagine the thunder in her brother’s eyes as she spoke.

A Douglas having to meet a Stewart was never for pleasure. Both clans hated each other for generations and even more since the Douglas decided to betray King James IV. Eileen was just a bairn when her uncle planned his alliance with the English King, but somehow, she became the symbol of the peace between the two clans. As well for the man she would marry. It was King James’ decision that she would marry his cousin, the Duke of Albany’s younger brother, and as she detailed the young Duke’s expression, she thought maybe the Stewarts weren’t the turds William liked to call them.

“Let me introduce you to my brother, Alexander.” The Duke stepped aside and with a wave of his hand designated a young man still holding his horse’s reins.

The younger Stewart was tall, his tartan making his shoulders even larger. With a nonchalant pace he joined them. He stopped next to his brother and Eileen and they silently judged each other. His brown eyes were similar to two endless holes so gloomy were they. His hair was as dark and seemed unruleble while a thin and uncertain beard started to cover his jaws and cheeks.

"Lady Eileen." He muttered, saying her name seemed to be a great effort for him.

This time, her smile couldn't be faker. "Lord Stewart." She replied, pronouncing each syllable as she was spitting to his face.

Their interaction didn't last longer, her father inviting them to enter the castle to eat. The meal was rather calm, John Stewart being almost the only one speaking. He seemed pretty comfortable and even happy to be here, as if he wasn’t at the same table as former traitors. William liked to claim that what their uncle did was for the good of Scotland, that Stewarts were just a lineage of bastards, but Eileen knew they were the one who betrayed a King. And no matter how much William would insult the Stewarts, Douglass were the traitors.

If that fact didn’t prevent John from enjoying the lunch, she couldn’t tell the same of her betrothed. Alexander was silent, stabbing his food as a pouting child. She found it amusing, and could have even found it endearing if he wasn’t sending murderous glares at William. However, her brother wasn’t innocent , his piercing blue eyes giving back the threat gladly.

At some point, her father cleared his throat and stood up. All eyes were on him as he raised his cup. “To my daughter and her future husband.” He declared turning toward Eileen and then Alexander who had made the effort to look less unhappy, if it was even truly possible. “And may this alliance be a new beginning for our two clans.”

John stood up as well and clinked his glass with her father’s. “To a new beginning.”

…

“You are a surprisingly good company.” Eileen smiled as she walked in the garden beside Alexander. He looked down at her dubiously. “What? I like the silence.” She smirked.

He huffed and continued to walk. It was the second day the Stewarts were spending in Bothwell Castle and her mother had asked her to try to sympathize with the young man. But she found it hard to be nice with a man who wasn’t even talking to her.

"You know, we are going to be married for what is going to be a long time. Maybe we should try to at least know each other." She proposed, doing her best to not sound rude.

"I didn't want to marry." He grumbled, his foot kicking in a stone.

"See ? We have at least one common point." She smirked again.

Alexander suddenly stopped in front of her, leaning slightly over her, and she realized how taller he was compared to her. She pinched her lips, her eyes not leaving his despite how threatening they were.

"Don't you think because you're a bonny lass I'll forget you're a fucking Douglas whore."

He had barely finished his sentence, Eileen slapped his face hard. He didn't expect that, his hand rubbing his already red cheek. "I'm not a whore and do not ever call me like that or I'll cut off your balls." She warned him with a roar of her voice and she found herself satisfied at how he looked at her with wide eyes.

On these words, she exaggeratedly curtseyed before leaving him on his own. She felt her chest rise and fall ragingly, anger overwhelming her. As she walked in another part of the garden, she started to hate the whole world. She hated her uncle for starting this stupid rebellion. She hated King James for having decided to marry her to Alexander. She hated her father for having accepted it obediently. But most of all : she hated Alexander for being a prick turd.

Angry tears started to irritate her eyes and she wiped them away with her palms. She wanted to join her bedroom and cursed her all existence, but God seemed to have decided otherwise. Shouts from where she was coming from caught her attention and she started to walk back. If it was possible for her to be even more in fury, well now it was. William and Alexander were now fighting in the grass like two kids.

From the corner of her eyes, she perceived John running in their direction to separate them. The older Stewart grabbed his brother by the back of his tunic, forcing him to get up and free William.

"Can I have an explanation?" He asked his brother who was now dusting his tartan.

"He got slapped by a lass." William replied mockingly and it took all John's strength to prevent his brother from coming upon his opponent again.

"That's enough!" The Duke barked before dragging Alexander away.

Once they were gone, Eileen walked to her brother who was still sitting on the floor. He grinned at her, and she noticed he must have bitten his cheek or tongue in the fight because there was blood on his teeth.

"I don't know why you slapped him, Sister, but that's what all those bastard Stewarts deserve."

Eileen crouched in front of him, still silent before slapping him as well. William whined, his cheeks already hurting from the fight. He looked at her confusedly and she stood up. "You're as much an idiot than him."

…

Dinner was again very silent, but this time both Alexander and William kept their eyes away from each other. John as well was different, his smile more tended. Eileen wondered if her father had a word of what happened in the garden, she doubted William told him, he would have been furious and maybe he would have had another mark on his face. But she also doubted he didn't notice anything. William had his right eye swollen and his bottom lip cut while Alexander's cheek was almost violet of her slap and probably her brother's punch. Oh none of them looked proud of the incident.

After the dinner, a knock on the door interrupted the servant who had barely started untying the back of her dress. Eileen turned her head to Maggie and kindly asked her to see who it was. She tightened the loosened laces and finally walked to open the door slightly.

"Lord Stewart."

From where she stood in her bedroom, Eileen could distinguish Alexander's silhouette through the door's opening, he wasn't wearing his tartan.

"I'd like to talk to Lady Eileen." He declared. His voice was still strong but she could hear the uncertainty in it, and it made her smile.

Maggie turned around to have some sort of answer from her mistress. Eileen waved her hand and walked toward the door. "You can leave us, Maggie. Thank you."

The young servant nodded and left them after saying she would come back later. Once she had disappeared in a corridor, she crossed her arms and stared with contempt at the once more silent Alexander.

"What do you want?"

"To say that I'm sorry." He grumbled and she almost wanted to laugh at how pathetic he looked.

"Is it you who is sorry, or your brother who asked you to be ?" She asked with an annoyed raised eyebrow.

Alexander frowned. "Does it matter ?"

Eileen tilted her head, closing her eyes in exasperation. "Yes, it does."

He rolled his eyes and after rubbing the back of his neck, he finally spoke. "It's me. I'm sorry for calling you a whore."

"You are pardoned." She said, thinking that making peace with him could only be a benefit. "And you said I was bonny after all." She smirked and suddenly his face turned red of uncomfort.

And for once, he didn't look as unpleasant as usual. His eyebrows weren't furrowed and his features were rid of any tension, making him look younger. She came to the conclusion that he wasn't that bad looking with his still fascinating brown eyes. She stepped back to go back in her bedroom, but before she closed her door, she paused and with an amused smile she added :

"I am sure you have a pretty smile, Alexander."

#alexander stewart #alexander stewart x oc #the spanish princess #fanfiction #mark rowley

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prince-toffee · 3 years ago

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Villains

Part Three

The freezing air burned as it collided with Catra’s furry face. She shivered in her blue blanket and her thick fur coat, she turned away, angled herself so that the snowflake peppered wind hit her flipped up hood. Her face was spared. The transporter flew so quickly Catra could barely see the condensation from her mouth as it was constantly pushed off backward. It was obvious Catra wasn’t in a good mood, that much was obvious by her grumpy face and crossed arms. In fact she was writhing with rage, which kept her warm enough in the cold climate. But that, was kind of the reason she went out onto the deck of the ship - to cool off. And partially to get some time alone away from her annoying teammates. The transporter was an upgraded model of the regular skiffs, but it wasn’t that much larger, roughly around the size of a yacht, maybe two. So there wasn’t much room inside under the deck, not much space to hide from the personal-space-invading Scorpia and her lung crushing hugs, or the overly talkative Entrapta. Even though the Drylian Princess was being uncharacteristically quiet and stationary during the trip. Just giggling and chuckling to herself as she read something on her data-pad.

She was furious, not only was she sent on this dumb, cold, mission, that wasn’t the worst part. Being away from The Fright Zone meant she was away from Shadow Weaver and that was always a positive. But everything changed, everything was different, Shadow Weaver was now the ruler of the Horde, she controlled everything now! She was even more insufferable. Because now she had to even look at posters in hallways of her ugly mug. She was everywhere. For Catra it was like living in a nightmare. When she was given the rank of Force-Captain by Lord Hordak months ago, she thought that things might’ve started to be looking up. But everything fell apart the day their trio tried to enact her plan. Well, Catra claimed to Hordak that manipulating the Black Garnet was her idea, and took the credit for it, when really it was Entrapta who stated she could do so and the only one who knew how to pull it off. But Entrapta didn’t seem to mind. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how high she climbed in the ranks, it seemed like she was always going to be under her, always number two.

Before she could’ve punched something her thought process was put on hold as the sound of the deck doors sliding open and a pair of heavy footsteps moving towards her. Then a new irritation gripped her, before she even turned around she knew who followed her outside. As she turned, her guess was proven right as towering over was Scorpia. The tall and broad scorpion wore a similar fur coat to protect against the cold, only several sizes bigger. Precariously pinned between her two huge pincers was a steaming mug of hot chocolate. The way the transport was heading and the direction the wind was blowing, the steam flew right back into the Princess’ face.

“Woaw, woohoo, man it’s freezing out here. I, uh, I know you like to be on your own, brooding. But uh, I got kinda worried, you out here, cold, and you could get a... well a cold. So to warm you up a little I brought you some hot choco!” She looked around for her right to her left and noticed nothing but a landscape of white, she could barely depict icy blue mountains on the horizon. But not much else. “Maybe next time they should send us out on a mission somewhere warm, huh?” Hehe... heh...” She looked at Catra hopeing to see something resembling a smile, no such luck. Catra agreed with the statement, she way better preferred a warm location, but at least she was away from Shadow Weaver.

Catra wanted to stay cool, stay broody, wanted to show no weakness. But also at the same time it was freezing, and the magicat really could’ve used that coco, and she didn’t want to admit it, but it was Scorpia’s begging puppy eyes that totally convinced her. The cat huffed and rolled her heterochromatic eyes to maintain her ‘bad girl’ reputation. But ultimately took the mug, against her instinct and better judgement she mustered out a “Thanks.”

Scorpia’s eyes lit up and smiled ear to ear, “Y- You’re welcome!” Catra turned her face away from Scorpia as she felt a slight blush rise on her cheeks and across her nose, and she would’ve rather face the harsh stinging snow and wind than show the slight hint, tint of red, to Scorpia. She would’ve never let her live it down. The scorpion-Princess cleared her throat, “Sooo... You wanna talk about it? The Shadow Weaver thing, I mean. I know you probably don’t! But! I- I’m here for you! Even if you just need to vent or rant or whatever.”

Catra took a sip, it was pretty good, and the warmth was a welcome intrusion. “No. No, I don’t.” Months ago everything was looking up, how did it all fall apart so quickly. And now she was back at the bottom of the food chain, miserable and angry. “But thanks for the offer... How long until we get there?”

“Two hours. Hour and a half, if we’re lucky and the weather clears up. We should make it before nightfall, that’s when the temperatures really drop. At least that’s what Entrapta estimates.”

“How is our Princess anyway? Quieter than usual.”

“Oh she’s looking through some of Hordak’s data from his Sanctum. She seems... captivated... Shame what happened with Lord Hordak.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“You know Shadow Weaver says he’s dead, and I mean we did see her kill him, but you know the weird thing about that? No one can find a body.”

“Huh, weird.” Catra took another sip from the mug, a long one this time, as she looked on. She might’ve known something about that.

---

Glimmer groaned, she was so freaking tired, she leaned against the chair, practically draped over it, looking like she melted down over it. Well, it wasn’t really a chair, it was three box crates positioned in a way to imitate a chair. It wasn’t comfortable, but the alternative was standing, of which she was tired, or laying down in a sleeping bag, but she wasn’t ready for that kind of embarrassment. She folded her arms and grunted to herself. Nobody heard it, and no attention was paid to her. She took another look around the Dragon’s Daughter III, or was it IV, maybe II. Didn’t really matter. She must’ve surveyed the deck about a hundred times by then, and the scene hadn’t changed much. Bow was watching and listening to the flamboyant SeaHawk, one boot above the other on a crate, his pointing finger was pointing to the sky at nothing really. And on the other side at the front of the boat stood a golden and white giant, flowing blonde hair, bellowing skirt, knee high boots, and short pants. All accompanied with beautiful ornate designs in the gold. Glimmer couldn’t see from where she sat, but her chest armour sported a golden design, something a cross between a flower and a star, with an ocean blue stone at its centre.

In her hand gripped was a broad sword with golden ornate detail extending from the hilt forming a beautiful cross guard. Another sapphire stone at its centre. That wasn’t just any sword, it was The Sword of Protection. And that wasn’t just any ordinary warrior, she was the mythic and legendary She-Ra, The Princess of Power. Her friend.

But Glimmer noticed there was something off about her friend today, she might’ve been the indestructible She-Ra, but underneath that extra magical layer of skin was Adora, just Adora. A girl that wasn’t indestructible. She was the hero of Etheria, its so called ‘saviour’. Adora didn’t like to be called that, it made the life she lived sound official. The fate of the entire world rested on her shoulders. Saying she was stressed or anxious was an understatement. Glimmer was contemplating walking up to her and asking her what’s wrong for about half an hour now. But she had no idea what to say, what Adora needed to hear. But hey, friendship was about trying.

Before the boredom could claim her she stood up and marched over to the golden giant woman. “Hey Adodo~. You good babe?” The small pink cotton-candy Princess gave a little nervous chuckle.

She turned around to face her small friend, and on her face as always was a bright warm smile. “Hey, Glim.” It was subtle, but it was there, in her eyes, there was a hint of tiredness, it looked like she was deep in thought and Glimmer brought her out of it.

And to be honest Glimmer herself had a lot to think about. Glim felt like the Alliance was just reacting to the Horde’s attacks, they were too much on the defence and not enough on the offense. She approached her mother about that query, Glimmer proposed that the Princess Alliance should start going more on the attack, hit some key Horde outposts - Troop barracks, resource transports, and silos containing food, drink and medicine supplies. Cripple the Horde. But her majesty Queen Angella overruled the idea and stated they should priorities defending their own and their allies. And denied Glimmer’s request for more soldiers under her commanding. She was a Commander but sometime it felt more like a ‘well done sticker’ or a ‘second place ribbon’, than an actual rank. Angella said she ‘didn’t want to risk losing lives when it can be avoided’.

Coward.

That’s what Glimmer thought, but never had the bravery to actually say it to her face. But she had a feeling that the day would come when she’d oppose her mother, and insult her. And she knew the day was coming soon.

“Ah,” Adora waved her hand dismissively, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Adora looked like she was thinking about something and whether to say it, “I- It’s just the whole Shadow Weaver thing, ya know? The person who raised me now leads the Horde and I bet the Horde’s new priorities will be to bring me back in like before. I feel like I’m painting a huge target on anyone around me.”

“Adora, come on, don’t say that. We’re always under a huge target. We’re the Rebellion! Anybody who opposes the Horde is in danger. You make us stronger than ever.” She winked and gave her friend a little playful nudge.

“Heh, thanks Glimmer. I- I know that, but I can’t help but self-pity... mind me asking?”

“Shoot ahead.”

“Does Hordak seem off to you?”

“I mean yeah, but elaborate.”

“It’s just, I don’t know, he doesn’t seem like... Hordak.”

“Yeah, he’s way skinnier than I expected, like a skeleton.”

“It’s not even that. It’s... I don’t know, he’s not scary! He’s uncomfortable, he feels small, he’s sick... he’s just... some guy, just a person. After all my life seeing Hordak as this myth, this folktale, it’s hard to accept him as a person.”

“You think he’s a double, some trick by the actual Hordak? Maybe he knows the Shadow Weaver news will mess with you. There’s a lot of shape-shifters out there.”

“You know, a part of me wanted to believe that, but that part of me I left in the Fright Zone. I think that really is Hordak, I can’t know for sure, but I have a feeling... like a memory.” That last part of the sentence she whispered to herself, didn’t want to trouble Glimmer with things she herself wasn’t sure were real. She didn’t know what she saw, she could hardly make sense of the scene. She didn’t know if it was fake, a dream, her mind playing tricks on her. But there he was, his face, surprise and confusion written across it, big pointy ears, and big red eyes. She was looking up at him. It couldn’t have been a memory, could it? Adora often recalled her earliest memory being that of Catra arriving at the Fright Zone, in that applesauce cardboard box. The image she so struggled to perceive didn’t have Catra in it so it had to have happened before meeting her since the two were inseparable all their lives. That would’ve lined up with Hordak’s story of finding her as a baby and bringing her in. Adora didn’t mention any of that to Glimmer or anyone else. She changed the subject, “But anyway, how about you? How’s the long journey treating you? Enjoying the weather?”

Glimmer couldn’t help but chuckle, “So infinitely jealous of that impenetrable magical skin that resists temperature change, this cold is unbearable. And past the boredom and the shanties the trip is only horrible. Hehe. I’m actually glad my mum allowed us to deploy so far away.”

“How do you mean?”

Glimmer sighed, managing to sound disappointed and infuriated, “I love my mum, and I get her, but I really think she’s not in the right here. She’s not the right kind of leader for our war. She’s too scared. She just sits there in the castle alone doing nothing, being useless. And the Horde is rolling over us! She’s making me feel useless.”

“Glim-”

“I said that I get her, and I do! But I disagree. Plus, I feel like she sent us off on this excursion just to get us out of the way. Remember before we left she said something about wanting to talk to Hordak on her own. I still feel like she’s treating us like kids, sending us away when she has adult business to take care of, she doesn’t trust us with things!”

She-Ra shrugged, “She’s the Queen, of course she wants to personally talk to the ‘Hordak’. As for the Horde winning the tug of war for Etheria, it’s always hard to say, but we’re doing well, Glim! Last time I checked the Horde didn’t have any elemental meta-etherians. We’re in a good position.”

“...When I got captured by Catra, she was going to give herself up! Like a coward! It was you and the rest of the team that came for me! Broke into The Fright Zone for me! And she didn’t even go with you! She just sat there in that stupid castle and. Did. Nothing!...” That drew the attention of both Bow and SeaHawk, they all looked at her, worried. Adora wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, but Glimmer turned around and returned to the inside of the yacht, they didn’t talk for the next two hours.

---

Entrapta scratched Imp’s chin as he tried to fall asleep wearing a small custom fur coat, he lay there next to her keyboard. Entrapta had her feet kicked up on the desk as she looked through slides and pages of data. It was safe to say she was captivated, the screens displayed the contents from Hordak’s Sanctum, she didn’t understand everything she saw which was why she was fascinating. So much to learn, theorise about, in one place. Most things she understood, up coming upgrades to stun-weaponry, updates to troop schedules and routines, new concepts for the Horde tanks and skiffs. Once she got past all that basic stuff that’s when things got interesting.

Some sort of schematics for what Entrapta would call an exo-skeleton armour, she immediately spotted several aspects where she could’ve improved it. Then there were files under even heavier encryption, no major obstacle for Entrapta of course. She recognised the terminology and the diagrams, it talked about cell division, mitosis, and depictions of chromosomes being ‘tampered with’. It looked like he was playing with them, putting them in different sequences, altering them, seemingly creating new chromosomes. It was quite amazing, really. Cloning. Next there was the real enigma, a strange power generator, the question she had was what needed that amount of power? The armour would overheat, and that amount unnecessary for the cloning process. It must’ve been for a different project, one not listed in the files. He must’ve been very paranoid. The only thing she managed to find on this mysterious project was some set of random co-ordinates... It couldn’t be, could it?

Just then a beep went off from a panel on her right, startling Imp. The nap was ruined. She tried to pat him and calm him down, but it was too late, the little batling had taken flight. The noise signalled that the lasers and drills had finished excavating. The First Ones tech piece was quite large, largest piece she’d ever seen. It resembled an enlarged coin with their ancient alien writing on it in neon purple. Great colour, Entrapta noted. As if on cue Scorpia entered the room. With her she brought a huge rug which she easily carried under arm as she whistled to herself, while avoiding eye contact. Entrapta didn’t know what was rolled up in the rug, probably a person, judging by the rug’s length. It didn’t matter. Entrapta had more important things to take care of. She moved out to check on the FOs tech without saying anything.

Scorpia rushed into the supply closet, closed the door behind her, and placed her back against the door, double checked if anyone was watching through the slit in the door. And she unrolled the rug, throwing Adora out on the cold floor. The Adora in front of Scorpia wasn’t the same Adora she saw on the battlefield, a determined, powerful warrior. No, this one acted like a drunk. It was because of the effect of the corrupting agent, but still. She sighed, “What am I going to do with you? You keep making everything worse! Catra was already in a bad mood because of all that Shadow Weaver taking over stuff, and now you show up!”

“So all that stuff with mama Weaver is true? No way! Hordak was telling the truth.”

“Hey, hey, woaw, woaw, Hordak’s alive!?”

“Yeah, we got that skinny son of a bat in a prison cell in BrightMoon, well it’s not really a prison it’s a spare room for guests, hehe, but shhhh don’t tell Glimmer’s hot mum I said that.... Who are you?”

“Oh no, this isn’t good. Shadow Weaver will freak! Me and Catra are gonna get in so much trouble... unless... she never finds out.” Scorpia looked above to see a snoozing Imp attempting to hang upside down, unfortunately for the boy Scorpia grabbed him with haste. “Hey baby satan bat! Tell Adora’s friends she’s in here. They can get in through a back door. Get them out of here! And I promise all my granola ration bars are yours.” With a smirk he flew off.

#entrapta #catra #scorpia #adora #glimmer #shadow weaver #hordak #queen angella

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summahsunlight · 4 years ago

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All For You, Part 4

Rating: T

Word Count: 2010

Pairing: Poe Dameron X Pilot!Reader

Summary: Your life in the Resistance was not easy, being married to Commander Poe Dameron and a skilled pilot yourself. When you unexpectedly get pregnant, your life is forever changed. Raising a child on base is hard, but never having parents of your own as a child, you are determined to love your little girl and give her the best life. Poe is equally as devoted to you and your daughter, vowing to keep you both safe from the impending threat of the First Order.

Taglist: @thescarletknight2014, @elmoakepoke, @xxidontwikeitxx, @liadamerondjarin, @marvelofwitch, @blushingwueen, @april-14-blog

Here is the next part! The taglist is still open, just let me know if you want to be added🥰Feedback is always appreciated! I love to hear from you!

Poe looked at the anticipation in the eyes of his squadron--as they waited for him to confirm what they already knew--no thanks to BB-8. He swallowed, nervously, his brown eyes traveling to you for a second. You were positively pale--then again, that could be because you were still not feeling well and had nothing to do with the fact that your secret had been revealed.

Snap drummed his fingers on the table, catching Poe’s attention and the commander could see that the rest of the squadron was eagerly awaiting him to say something.

Reaching underneath the table, Poe found your hand and grasped it. “Yes,” he said, slowly, calmly, “we’re having a baby--we didn’t tell you guys because we’re still wrapping our heads around it ourselves. It wasn’t like this was...ah... planned.”

“Are you... are you going to raise the baby here?” Jess asked, quietly.

“Yes,” you replied, “where else would we raise our baby?”

Karé, Snap, and Jess all exchanged glances. “Well,” Snap said, “it’s just seems to make more sense if... the baby went to live with Poe’s dad--I mean, is a base really that safe for a baby?”

Poe hadn’t told you yet, but he had taken into consideration--a lot of consideration--about having his dad take the baby. He knew this would be incredibly difficult for you, knowing that you were abandoned as a baby--but it was the safety of your child you were talking about. “We haven't really discussed it.”

You threw him a look. What did he mean by that? You had discussed it, when you told him that you were pregnant you had made it clear that you wanted to raise your baby. No where in that conversation had you discussed shipping that baby off to Yavin IV to live with Kes. “Yes, we have,” you said, annoyed. “We agreed that we’re going to raise the baby here.”

Snap knew immediately that he’d set a fire and now desperately tried to put it out. “Ah, well, if you are going to raise the baby here--we’ll all be here to help you--anyway we can. My mom always said it takes a village to raise a child, so we’ll happily be your village.”

“If you need someone to baby-sit, we’re willing to do it,” Jess supplied.

“And if you don’t trust the droid killer--Karé and I are available.”

“Hey! A baby is different than a droid! I can take care of a baby!”

“I dunno if Poe and Y/N are going to feel comfortable leaving their baby with you, Pava.”

Jess glared at Snap and Karé; she might have reputation as being bad luck for droids, but she would never let anything hurt your baby. Poe and you were family and thus that baby was family. “You guys are the worst.”

Poe smiled, lightheartedly. He knew that his friends would be there if you needed help with the baby--but they had important jobs within the Resistance as well. He knew that you were mad at him; he could see the seething look in your eyes when he said that you hadn’t discussed where the baby was going to live. Oh, the two of you were going to have it out once you got back to your room. “We appreciate your offer to help,” he said, looking at his friends. “But... we’re all rather busy here.”

Karé nodded. “Exactly why you need all the help you can get, Poe. We might not be parents, but we’re not stupid. We know this is going to be hard and we want to be there for you guys. You’d do the same for any of us.”

Finishing the food you had not wanted to eat to begin with, you stood, said you weren’t feeling well, and wished them all good-night. Black Squadron watched as you stormed out of the mess hall.

“If you need a place to stay--our couch is available,” Snap said, smiling.

“Am I crazy in wanting the baby to go live with my dad?” Poe asked.

“No,” Jess said, shaking her head. “You want the baby to be safe--maybe Y/N can go with the baby to live with your dad?”

It was an idea that crossed Poe’s mind but he knew you would never go for it--you were just as dedicated to the Resistance was he was. Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face. “Thanks, guys,” he said, standing up. “I’ll see you in the morning. I need to go get this ass chewing done and over with.”

As Poe walked away, Snap called out after him, “Remember! Our sofa is always available to you, Dameron!”

----

Once you were back in your quarters, you flopped down onto the bed in a sob, which caused BB-8 to perk up and ask if everything was okay. Screaming into the pillow only seemed to alarm the little droid more and he was half-way towards the door to go find Poe when you shouted at him to stop.

BB-8 turned and rolled towards you. Sitting up on the bed, you wiped your eyes. “I’m sorry, BeeBee. I’m...tired and angry and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It’s not your fault.”

Falling back onto the pillows, you stared up at the ceiling. You knew that Poe’s heart was in the right place--wanting to send your baby to live with Kes--but at the same time you couldn’t believe that after everything you had been through, he was still thinking about it. You refused to abandon your baby like you had been abandoned. Refused. Poe was just going to have to understand that.

“So, should I just grab my things and head to Snap’s?”

“I dunno, should you?”

Poe sighed, heavily, and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sweetheart, do you honestly think I just want to dump our baby on my dad? I hate the idea; I know how much my parents hated leaving me--but right now I cannot justify raising our child here--not with a war looming in the not so distant future.”

You sat up and glared at him. “Even after I told you how much I wanted to raise our baby--that I didn’t want to be like my parents and just leave--you still want to hand our baby off to Kes? It’s like you didn’t even listen to me, Poe.”

He licked his lips. “It’s not a decision that I take lightly. It breaks my heart to think about leaving our baby, but we need to think about what’s best for the baby--not us, sweetheart. My dad is more than willing to take the baby until this is over and we can go home.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “What’s best for our baby is to be raised by its parents--not left behind! I won’t do it, Poe! I won’t leave my baby! I know it’s going to be hard, I know that it’s going to change a lot for both of us! And now, you tell me you’ve already talked to your dad! How could you leave me out of decision like this, Poe?”

“Because I knew this is the way you would react,” Poe said, calmly.

“And yet you did it anyway,” you snapped.

“I don’t want to argue. So, I’m gonna stay with Snap tonight.”

“There’s nothing to fight over. We made our decision already.”

Poe looked at you, his brown eyes intense. “Do you think this was easy for me? All I want is to keep you and the baby safe. I know I’ll never be able to convince you to walk away from the Resistance--my dad was the next best option. You and this baby are my life, sweetheart! I would give up my life for you if it meant protecting you and our baby!”

You could barely see him through all your tears. You knew how much you meant to him, how much the baby meant to him--and you knew that he would do anything for you to keep you both safe. “Please, Poe, please don’t make me give up my baby.”

BB-8 chirped, sadly. Poe glanced at his droid and let out a loud sigh. He reached for your hands and pulled you to your feet, wrapping you into his arms. You buried your face into his chest and sobbed. You were hating how this pregnancy was messing so much with your body that you couldn’t control your emotions. His hand rubbed your back, the other cupped the back of your head--and he just let you cry. “I won’t make you give up the baby. Just promise me that if the time comes when it gets too dangerous for the baby, that you’ll take the baby to Yavin and stay with my dad.”

That seemed reasonable and you knew it was, but for whatever reason you just sobbed harder. Poe’s arms tightened around your shaking body. “Maybe we should have asked Doctor Kalonia about giving you something for your mood swings,” he teased, chuckling softly.

“Not funny!” you snapped into his chest. “I hate this! I hate crying all the time! And I hate being angry and scared and... I just hate this! I hate feeling like I don’t have control of anything right now!”

“I know, baby,” he said, gently. His lips brushed against your cheek. “Does it help to know that I love you no matter what kind of mood you throw at me?”

You sniffled. “It helps a little.”

Poe kissed your cheek again. “I love you; no matter what.”

Some days you felt like you didn't deserve him; today was one of those days. He was just trying to take care of you and the baby and you had gotten furious at him. Now, you were crying in his arms and he still loved you.

Gently he lifted you off the floor and carried you to the bed, softly laying you there. Pulling off your boots, Poe smiled at you. “I think it’s time for you to get some sleep, babe. Obviously you’re tired and stressed--that isn’t good for the baby.”

“Do...do you forgive me for all the awful things I said?”

“Already forgotten, sweetheart.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because--you were the only girl to put up with me.”

Half giggling, half crying still, you pushed him away playfully. You had been painfully shy at flight school--Poe had pulled you from that shell, he had befriended you before he fell in love with you. Although, he would often tell you that it was love at first sight for him. “Not true. Lots of girls would have put up with you if meant getting a date with you.”

Poe cocked a smile. “True,” he said, leaning forward and kissing you. “I was madly in love with you though from the moment I laid eyes on you. Drove my roommate crazy. Besides making me the happiest guy on campus when you agreed to a date--you made him the happiest guy because he didn’t have to listen to me rant on and on about how much I wanted to ask you out.”

“I remember him... he was cute.”

“He’s also married, now. Him and his husband are very happy.”

Yawning, you laughed. Poe stroked your cheek with his thumb and coaxed you to fall asleep. “Are you still going to stay with Snap?” you asked him, watching him, lazily.

Sighing, Poe continued to trace circles in your cheek with his thumb. “If you want me too.”

Shaking you head, you started to drift off. “I want you to stay. I’m not...I’m not angry anymore.”

“I have reports to finish. I won’t keep you up?”

“No, you won’t keep me up.”

Poe chuckled as you fell fast asleep. Getting up off the bed, he tucked the blankets around and went to the desk to complete his reports. And you were right, his working didn’t wake you.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #200 followers celebration #all for you

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intricate-oeuvre · 5 years ago

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On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part XIII

Word count: 6.2k+ SHE A BEEFY ONE!! Since updating is hectic these times.

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: blood, bad grammar. violence. Filler chapter!! Probably second to last chapter. Yen and Axelia both are assholes.

A/N: STAY SAFE! STAY HOME!!! Hit me up if you want to be tagged. SHOUTOUT TO @crazy-fan-girl-c137 FOR BEAUTIFUL FANART!!!

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

Axelia was never one for parties. Nor was Geralt. Or any witcher, really. She let her milky eyes glide around the large room. Briefly catching onto Geralt, who stood at the side of the room, Yennefer sitting on a chair in front of him.

“Drink?” Ciri stood beside Axelia and offered her a drink.

“I’ll get drunk.” Axelia mumbled, not tearing her eyes away from the room as she reached for the offered goblet.

“Isn’t it the plan?” Ciri asked, taking a small sip from her own goblet that most likely had only juice or water. Axelia only hummed, small smirk hiding behind her wine.

“Being drunk is a dangerous game, especially for a witcher.” Axelia took a sip.

“As in?” Ciri tilted her head to look at the she-witcher.

“Do you really want to see me brawl in this dress of a thing?” Axelia looked down at Ciri, since her heels made her taller than the young girl.

“Definitely would be more fun than all this.” Ciri gestured to the room subtly.

“Now, now. We should enjoy Jaskier’s playing at least.” Axelia said and raised her goblet towards the bard that was playing at the other end of the room.

Next couple of minutes, maybe even hours, Axelia stayed silent. Taking a seat at the nearby table she played with the rim of her wine goblet, from time to time letting out a sigh of boredom.

“Aren’t you just having time of your life.” A voice said and Axelia’s eyes snapped up to meet with Yennefer’s, who was standing next to her now. Axelia didn’t answer and just took a gulp of her wine that was now lukewarm. She-witcher noticed that Yennefer was about to sit opposite her, but Axelia was quicker and in one fluid move, her right leg rose up and rested on the chair opposite her.

“Really?” Yennefer glanced at Axelia’s exposed leg.

“You bet.” Axelia smiled a saccharine smile at the witch. With a roll of her eyes, Yennefer pushed her leg out of the way and sat opposite her.

“What do you want?” Axelia raised a challenging eyebrow at the woman.

“Nothing.” Yennefer said, putting her elbow on the table and leaning her chin in her hand.

“Got bored of Geralt already?” Axelia spat, her eyes raising from her goblet to look at the sorceress.

“He isn’t really one to go to parties.” Yennefer sulked. This made Axelia snort, wine dripping down her chin. What did Yennefer expect?

“I’m sorry?” Yennefer furrowed her brows at Axelia.

“For a sorceress and ex-court mage, you do seem quite… what’s the word? Ah, yes… dense.” Axelia sighed and putted the goblet back on the table. With a look around and sharp inhale, Yennefer leaned closer to Axelia:

“Listen here, you little butcher,”

Axelia stared at the sorceress, unaffected, her fingers turning the rings on her hand. Just waiting for her to open her mouth again.

“You can leave. No one wants you here. You’re a tad too late. And stop running your foul mouth.” Yennefer narrowed her eyes at Axelia.

“Or what? You of all the people will do something about it?” Axelia challenged her, her chin downcast as she was looking at Yennefer through her forehead, teeth baring as she was holding herself back.

“I swear I will turn you to dust if you don’t get out of here.” Yennefer leaned back in her chair. As if the warning she had just given Axelia was something casual.

“Oh, please, I’ll chop your hands off before you even move them towards me.” Axelia barked out a laugh.

“Get out.” Yennefer warned through gritted teeth.

“I was enjoying my wine, thank you very much.” Axelia didn’t move her eyes from Yen as she took a sip of her wine once again. Yennefer was fuming, she wanted to her gone, out of her ways. Sorceress didn’t need the she-witcher to mess with Geralt’s head anymore. In her furious state, Yennefer didn’t pay attention to the fact that Axelia’s left hand was resting on the wolf medallion. She saw it, but didn’t heed any attention to it. But what she didn’t know was that Axelia wasn’t really toying with the pendant, but with the hilt of the small knife that was nestled between her breasts. Neatly hiding behind the medallion.

As Yennefer’s eyes flashed dangerously at Axelia, and she-witcher pulled out the knife to point it at the mage, a loud voice disturbed their rivalry.

“WHAT?!”

Both of them turned to look at the Lord Chetword’s wife who was now standing up at their table and yelled at one of the guards. Axelia and Yennefer shared one look and then resumed to listen at all the fuss. The music had been cut short and people where whispering between themselves.

“What’s going on?” Axelia leaned on the table and whisper-shouted at Jaskier who seemed to be the closest to the royal table at that moment. She did gain his attention but received no answer.

“Jaskier.” Yennefer said in louder but stricter tone, making the bard quickly make his way towards two women.

“What is happening?” Yennefer asked.

“It seems that two of Lord’s daughters are missing and a boy.” Bard explained.

“What do you mean missing?” Yennefer leaned on the table too.

“I don’t know that much. Something about nilfgaardians getting into the place and leaving with the children.” Jaskier explained.

“And what did I tell you? These fucking imbeciles.” Axelia sighed out in frustration as she slunk down in the chair, digging the knife in the table, just to toy with it.

“And what are they planning to do now?” Yennefer asked actually for once being interested in something. Axelia tilted her head as she observed Yennefer while she talked with the bard.

Why was Yennefer so keen to know what’s happening? Was it because they were children and not somebody else?

Must be. And Axelia saw how much did Yennefer actually care. Maybe not about Geralt or anything, but about the children. The motherly instinct was definitely there.

“Party’s over.” Geralt said suddenly behind the bard, resting his hands on the table.

“Are they doing something to get the children back?” Yennefer looked at Geralt. Then Geralt alongside Ciri explained to Yennefer that there was to be a search party, but it will take hours to arrange it, and its already pitch-black night. And that they most likely will search for them in the morning.

“In the morning? They might be dead by then!” Yennefer hissed at the idiocy she was hearing. Well, Axelia agreed with her there, but the she-witcher’s eyes seemed glued at some imaginary spot across the room.

“Is there nothing we can do to help?” Ciri asked.

“You’ll be dead before the sunrise. Nilfgaardians will kill you in an instant.” Geralt explained.

“So will the children!” Yennefer hissed. The banter between four of them kept on, as Axelia’s eyes finally slid across the room to the mother who had just lost her children.

Two girls and a boy. The older sister around seventeen, the other around four and the boy just barely ten. God, Axelia could only imagine the pain that the mother felt. Her eyes then slid along the people, all who tried to leave quickly.

With-out saying a word, Axelia rose from the table and made her way to the nearest window. She glanced through it, looking down how guards were running around like headless chickens. With a sigh she turned away and made her way to the closest table. Then pouring wine into a goblet she picked a piece of bread and humming some lullaby for the whole irony of this, made her way towards the doors.

“Where are you going?” Ciri asked.

“To my room.” Axelia made dismissive gesture. “The dresses are annoying.” She called behind herself as she made her way out, stuffing bread in her mouth. To the party at the table, Axelia seemed slightly drunk and disinterested in whole situation.

As soon as Axelia went into the hall, she spat the bread back into the wine goblet and left the goblet on the closest side table. Picking up her dress she quickly run down the halls of the place. She needed to make a quick stop at her room to grab her sword. She rushed into the room. Grabbed her swords and then looked down at herself.

“There is literally no fucking time.” She hissed at herself and threw the swords on her back, tightening the leather braces to hold them in place. Then grabbing big handfuls of the vials off the table, she rushed out of the room again. While sorting the vials and putting them in the belt, Axelia heard a voice behind her echo from earlier:

“Where are you going?”

She-witcher looked over her shoulder but didn’t stop.

“I’m leaving.” Axelia answered without missing a beat.

“Where? In a dress?” Ciri caught up with Axelia’s quick strides.

“Away.” Axelia answered half-heartedly, her mind busy with cataloguing the vials and potions.

“You are going after them, aren’t you?” Ciri stated. Axelia stopped and looked at the girl.

“You are too.” Axelia took in the cloak that Ciri had borrowed from someone.

“Where did you get it?” Axelia pulled on the hem of the cloak.

“From a guard. And I am coming with you.” Ciri stood up taller.

“You are going nowhere. Geralt will kill us both if you do.” Axelia pulled Ciri to the side, hiding behind a large flower pot.

“I can’t let them die.” Ciri was referring to the children.

“It’s not your fight. Not this one. You are a guest tonight.” Axelia said, putting her hands on Ciri’s shoulders.

“But so are you.” Ciri whined.

“Look. Just cover me, so I can leave the place. And that will be enough of help from you. For now.” Axelia pleaded. She couldn’t take her with her. Ciri was all that Geralt had left. And it would be easier for her to die knowing that she didn’t endanger Ciri.

“Please.” Axelia pleaded tilting her head at the girl.

“Fine. But take this.” Ciri took off the cloak and gave it to Axelia.

“Thank you.” Axelia pulled Ciri in for a hug.

“Now...” Axelia trailed off.

“Go find Geralt, make sure he doesn’t see me. And don’t even think about mentioning this to him.” Axelia said at the girl as she put on the cloak.

“Of course.” Ciri said, already backing away from Axelia.

“You look like a princess who is about to run away from palace.” Ciri briefly called after Axelia. She-witcher smirked at that but didn’t say anything, just run further away down the halls.

As her boots made clicking sound against the cobblestones right outside of the grand-house, she stopped abruptly.

“You there!” she pointed at the closest guard who was leading a horse towards the big gate. Axelia rushed towards the man and grabbed leashes out of his hands.

“Hey!” Called the guard as Axelia mounted the horse and run out of the gates. Cloak and dress bellowing behind her in the darkness of the night.

Once again, she was walking close to the edge of her own grave.

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

Axelia was following the stench that was left behind the torches that nilfgaardians had used. Her nose picking up the smell pretty easily since the thieves had left some hours prior. Axelia was never one for the horses because it was far easier to trust her of two feet than the hooves of this large animal.

From time to time she had to dismount the trusty steed to check the footprints left by the nilfgardians.

“They can’t be that far.” Axelia had mumbled at one point, only to be proven absolutely wrong. When she finally had managed to reach the campsite where the nilfgaardians were resting before continuing their path to the citadel, it was already next night.

She left the horse at a safe distance. Taking off her cloak and her high-heeled boots, she put them on the saddle and patted the horse. Her own hair that was falling down her back now, resembled horse’s light mane.

“This is it, my friend.” Axelia whispered and let her fingers slide through the horse’s mane. She putted the iron sword on her back and reached for the quiver and the bow that had been on the side of the horse all this time. With quick fingers she counted the arrows.

“Four.” She calculated and looked around, hoping that it might be enough. Tying the quiver to her thigh and grabbing the bow she made her way towards the campsite. Glancing around and staying in shadows she searched for the sturdiest tree. Running her fingers along the bark of the tree, she glanced at the campsite, and the campfire in the middle of it with three nilfgaardian soldiers around it. Then she glanced at two tents, trying to locate where the children were. Hearing a sudden cry from the children, Axelia quickly climbed the tree and onlooked the campsite once again.

“There you are, little ones.” Axelia whispered as her eyes locked on three off-springs somewhere to the side. With calm breaths and calculated eyes, Axelia drew three arrows and with skilled aim she took out three guards. Perfect headshots.

“Take cover, there’s archer!” one of the guards yelled dogging out of the tent.

“I know where the archer is!” yelled another, crawling out of the other tent and readying crossbow of his own.

“Fuck.” Axelia hissed and jumped down and rushed towards the camp, abandoning the quiver and bow.

“Get the little mucks!” someone yelled and scurried off to grab the kids and pull them away.

“No, no, please, not the little ones!” screamed the older girl, pulling on guard’s arm.

“Get up, all of you!” guard hissed and pulled on girl’s hair. She screamed, but her hands reached for her younger sister and little brother.

“Take her and run!” girl ushered her brother and pushed him away.

“Move and I’ll kill her.” Guard said yanking the older girl back and putting knife against her throat.

Meanwhile Axelia was dealing with two other guards.

“Woman in a dress was the last thing we anticipated.” One guard snickered at the she-witcher, loading his crossbow with a well-made metal bolt. Axelia didn’t answer and only drawing her sword lunged forwards the guard.

“Crossbow is. Not. Close. Range. Weapon. Not. Per. Choice.” She hissed through gritted teeth, slashing the guard. He stumbled and Axelia moved forwards. The other guard used this opportunity to slash her in the back with a spear.

“One at the time boys!” Axelia screamed and swirled around to slash at her attacker. She raised her sword to rip a wound in the upper tight of nilfgaardian. The guard jumped back and Axelia went onward with another gash, but the guard was as quick and blocked woman’s attack.

“Come along, now!” Axelia heard somewhere off to the side and then children screaming.

With angry growl, Axelia kicked the guard in the chest, and turned to the other one. Quickly pulling out one of the vials - Katakan Decoction, she chugged it down and threw it to the side. Hoping that increasing her critical hit chance might help her. As she was turning, the guard hit her in the jaw with his spear, her head flying back, blood spurting out of her nose. Guard behind her, kicked the back of her knees, sending her to the ground on the rocky surface, slashing her knees. With angry huff, Axelia spun around on her knees and hurled her sword back, making it land right in the gut of the attacker now in front of her. Guard stumbled but didn’t fall.

“Will you die already?!” Axelia spat out blood, her witcher senses screaming at her to duck out of the way. With roll to the side, she barely managed to get away from another blow from the guard with a spear. With grunt she lunged up and run for the guard that still had her sword wedged in his stomach. Swiftly reaching for her sword, she jammed it deeper in the man and twisted it. With angry growl she pulled it out, sending the guard to the ground. Finally, dead. Throwing the sword on the ground she reached for the crossbow and yanked it out form guards dead grip. It was almost loaded, she turned around. Reaching for another vial she briefly glanced at it – Superior Bilzzard- maybe slowing down time even for a second could help her. The gash on her back was slowly killing her – she was losing the precious blood.

“Come here, you harlot!” guard run towards her, spear above his shoulder, ready to strike her down. He aimed right for her head. And as the spear neared her head, everything slowed down for her. Staring from the noises around her, till the very actions that everyone around her were preforming. Axelia leaned backwards as the spear neared, it barely scraping her throat. Her hands held the crossbow steadily and with her left hand, she loaded the bolt and with confident fingers she pulled the trigger to release the bolt right in the head of the guard. Suddenly the time regained its pace and with splutter of blood and with unnatural yank backwards, the guard fell to the ground. The bolt running straight through his head and right in the tree behind him. Breathing heavily Axelia let go of the crossbow and leaned down to pick up her sword. Banging her side, right where the old wounds from her fight with alghouls were, trying to distract her mind from the pain that was radiating from her back.

With slight limp in her step, Axelia run across the camp to look for that one guard who had children.

“Where are you, little fucker...?” Axelia whispered casting her eyes around. With slightly trembling hand she reached for a Cat potion and drunk it. Granting her night vision. Her adrenaline was out of the roof. And her black eyes, indicating that her body was fighting all the toxins that were coursing right through her veins, moved around frantically. She was driven, all this making her blood rush and allowing her to move quicker than any other mortal men. Really showing that she was a witcher.

“Move!” Axelia heard frustrated yell of the guard somewhere deeper in the forest and frantic screams of the children. Quickly moving along with her bare feet, Axelia came to a small clearing, rounded with tall pine trees which didn’t let the moonlight seep through.

“You there! Stay where you are!” Guard yelled at Axelia as soon as he noticed her. Axelia stopped and raised her hands up, signalling that she meant no harm.

“You killed them, didn’t you?” The nilfgaardian seemed nervous that he was the only one left alive out of six soldiers.

“Who?” Axelia turned her head, acting all innocent even thought, her bloody hands, beaten face and dirty dress told otherwise. She was trying to breathe calmly, but she wasn’t really successful with it. She let out deep breaths, her nostrils flaring as if she was an angry bull. She tried not to make any movements, because she knew that she will move faster than any other creature around them. While she had no problem to do so around enemies, there were children and she didn’t want to scar them anymore than they already were.

“The rest of them, at the campsite.” Guard nodded behind Axelia.

“Of course, not.” Axelia answered in slightly trembling voice as she was fighting herself not to lash at the nilfgaardian.

“I heard them scream.” Nilfgaardian pulled the little boy besides him, but with left hand he pulled closer the smaller girl and with right hand pulled the older girl against him as he once again held the knife against her throat. Children let out whimpers of fear.

“It was only a friendly nudge. The screams must have come from somewhere else then.” Axelia shrugged her shoulders at him.

“Bullocks.” He pulled the girl tighter against his chest, knife dangerously close to tear her skin.

“Hey, now. Let the children go, and, well, you won’t suffer same fate as they did.” Axelia said, taking a slow step towards him and the kids.

“Don’t move!” Nilfgaardian pointed the knife at Axelia now.

“Take me and let them go.” Axelia was trying to negotiate.

“No.” Nilfgaardian took a step back, pulling kids with him.

“Wouldn’t… bringing a witcher to your lord… be more promising than some offsprings?” Axelia still tried to negotiate. Truth be told, she never was really good at it.

“No. That doesn’t earn any leverage in this war.” Nilfgaardian spat at witcher.

“Hmm. You must be right.” Axelia’s hands fell to her sides as she glanced at the ground. For a second Axelia wasn’t sure on what to do, because using anything could wound the children. Looking back up, Axelia made eye contact with the older girl. Girl nodded at the she-witcher and with her hands reached for her siblings.

“Get down!” Axelia yelled in next second as her left hand rose, her open palm with bent middle finger towards nilfgaardian. The girl yanked her siblings down to the ground, nilfgaardian’s knife gently scarping the side of her neck. Next second there was wave of force that sent the nilfgaardian back. With successful use of Aard, Axelia moved quickly towards the soldier, sending a small look at the children, a sign for the next macabre. The soldier had already risen but Axelia, lounging forwards, made a deep gash across his chest, sending the man to his knees in front of her. Meanwhile the children had gathered to the side, the older sister shielding her sibling in embrace as she was murmuring to them something. Mostly likely not to listen to what was about to happen.

Axelia swiftly turned sideways and with long flourish swung her hand to the side.

Next moment there was sound of blade cutting through flesh. Sound of gargling and spluttering, and then two soft thuds. And then utmost silence. Axelia stood in front of the body that was laying on the ground, headless. Her hands at her sides as she was staring straight forward into the forest. Quiet sobs behind her, brought she-witcher back to reality. Next second she was kneeling in front of the children who let out even bigger sobs at her sudden movements.

“Forgive me. My intentions are not to frighten you.” Axelia said in soft voice, such contrast to her appearance. Her black eyes seemed like endless void, her face and hands, and legs that were seen through the slits of her dress, were covered in small bloody cuts, her hair seemed dirty and damp with sweat. Slowly Axelia reached for a small knife, that still had been sitting between her breasts, pulling it out she cut small piece of fabric from her dress and tied it around her black monster like eyes, trying to scare the kids less.

The older girl stared at Axelia, still shielding her sibling at her sides.

“You truly are a witcher…” Girl whispered with trembling lips.

“You’re bleeding.” Axelia tilted her head to stare at the girl’s neck.

“Let me help.” Axelia cut off another piece of fabric from her dress. With quick and precise movements, she bandaged the girl’s neck.

“How did you know… that I was bleeding.” Girl pulled herself and her two siblings slightly away from Axelia. Girl was most likely questioning the fact that Axelia had blindfold on.

“I… smelled it…” way to go and sound less creepy and intimidating. The smaller girl let out a small whimper.

“Are any of you hurt?” Axelia asked, her head moving which was dead giveaway to her eye movement.

“Not really.” Older girl answered.

“Then we must go, before they send someone else after all of you.” Axelia stood up and looked around.

“Who you?” Smaller girl asked, as all three of them stood up. Axelia’s head turned to look down at the small girl.

“Axelia of Kaedwen. At your service… for a moment.” Axelia did a small bow at the little girl, who hid behind her big sister.

“Who sent you?” The boy asked, grabbing a bigger twig and pointing it at Axelia.

“No one in particular, but if your mother’s weeping face was to go by something…” Axelia trailed off. Then raising her head to look up at the sky, at least what it looked like to unknowing eye, she stared up. But in honesty, she was just sniffling the air. Putting both of her pinkie-fingers in mouth, she let out a shrilling whistle.

“Let’s go.” Axelia went the way she came, back to the camp. She paused for a second when she didn’t hear the children coming with her.

“They will be back.” Axelia warned and then heard how children scurried to follow her. Being mindful of the dead bodies at the camp, Axelia led them to her horse. Throwing her boots to the side and grabbing the cloak, she turned to the children.

“Get on.” She gestured to the older girl.

“I can walk.” She insisted.

“On.” Axelia didn’t budge and slowly turned her head to look at the girl, sending a stoic expression at her.

“Yes, ma’am.” Girl got on the horse. Then Axelia stared at two other kids. Grabbing the boy under his hands, Axelia put him on top of the horse, in front of his sister.

“Up you go…” She mumbled and then putted the cloak around the older girl, motioning to her to wrap her brother too. Then Axelia glanced down at the small girl and picked her up, letting her rest on her left hip.

“Now, shut it.” Axelia said as she grabbed the reigns of the horse in other hand and led them back home.

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

“How far away are we?” The older girl asked quietly, when they were walking through some fields. The sun was soon to raise, and everything was in soft fog, morning dew was clinging to Axelia’s bare feet. The boy had fallen asleep in his sisters embrace. But the small girl that Axelia was holding didn’t seem to sleep at all. Little girl had been laying side of her head on Axelia’s shoulder, one of her hands playing with the wolf medallion around she-witcher’s neck.

“Soon.” Axelia answered, not even looking at the girl who had asked a question. Axelia was tired, her back was still slowly oozing and bleeding, she had lost enough blood to just crumple to the ground at any given second. Axelia was trying to take the shortest route to get back to the town. While she was searching for the kids, she had realized that nilfgaardians had made circles, to confuse anyone who’d follow. It only made Axelia’s search longer, but now she hoped that she’ll get back sooner. Not wanting to spend a whole day with the little urchins. Getting back by midday, was her highest hope at the moment.

“Are you alright?” girl on the horse continued to ask, when she had observed witcher for a while. Axelia didn’t answer.

“Are you a woodland spirit?” suddenly the girl in Axelia’s hands asked her.

“No, Sapphira.” Girl on the horse reproved the small girl.

“She has pretty hair.” The small girl mused, letting her hand run through the hair that was running down the length of Axelia’s back.

“She’s a witcher.” Said the boy, who had risen up.

“What does it do?” small girl asked again. Axelia didn’t even pay attention to the banter going on.

“She kills people.” The older girl warned, still not fully trusting Axelia.

“Killing people is bad.” The boy said. He was going to be fierce leader one day, Axelia noted to herself.

“Only when done wrong.” Axelia quipped back, her voice tired and raspy. Enough to scare children and make them shut up. But the small girl was far too young to understand who was bad guy and who wasn’t. With nosiness of a kitten, the small girl reached for the fabric that was tied around Axelia’s eyes. Witcher’s eyebrows furrowed and she missed a beat in her step, hiking the girl higher on her hip. Pulling the blindfold away, girl stared at Axelia’s face. Woman blinked rapidly for a moment and then her eyes locked on the girl, who had curious expression on her little, round face.

“Aren’t you a curious little thing.” Axelia slightly narrowed her eyes at the girl who reached out to touch Axelia’s face. Woman pulled her head backwards, her hand that was holding the leash of the horse shooting up and catching the girl’s hand at her little wrist.

“Sapphira.” Her older sister warned. But the little girl didn’t seem to stop and looked down at Axelia’s hand that was adorned with rings.

“No.” Axelia said in clipped tone and reached for the leash again. They still were crossing the uneven fields, sun that was about to rise in about an hour, made the sky at the East look pink. Defining the upcoming day – full of rain and stormy clouds. They needed to move quicker, before the rain reaches them. Axelia let out a deep sigh, indicating that she had lost way too much blood, and her strength was wearing thin. The hand that was safely holding the girl, felt numb and Axelia was way too stubborn to do anything about it.

“Maybe we should rest.” The girl on top of the horse said.

“No.” Axelia grumbled, slowly blinking and raising her head higher.

“You are not well.” Girl noted, as she saw, sweat gathering on Axelia’s brows. Witcher didn’t answer and kept walking forwards. Meanwhile, the girl on the horse was looking around.

“Come, let’s sit.” Girl said, noticing a bushes on her left, small ditch with runnel flowing in it, right next to it. Axelia didn’t even think of stopping.

“Hey.” The girl slid off the horse, leaving the cloak on her brother. She run around the horse and gently took the reigns out of Axelia’s hand. She-witcher glanced at the girl. Axelia’s whitish face seemed even paler, her eyes slightly sunken, lips dry, almost chapped and light sheen of sweat covering her skin. Girl slowly led everyone to the bushes that were big enough to caver behind. Girl tied the horse to the sturdier branch and helped her brother off. Then rushing forwards to Axelia, took her little sister out of witcheress’s hands. Axelia’s head bobbed but she stayed standing up. With deep sigh and her eyes almost empty, she reached for her sword on the back. Pushing it deep enough in the ground and at slight angle, Axelia used it as backrest as she sat down. Her legs bent at knees as she rested her arms cross them, her head hanging low.

“Here.” The older girl had taken a cantina from the saddle and filled it with water from the ditch that was running through the field. Carefully eyeing the girl, Axelia took the offered water and gulped it down.

“Can those help you?” girl asked, sitting across Axelia and pulling her smaller sibling in her lap. She was motioning to the vials, that sat in the belt, across Axelia’s chest. Axelia run her fingers along the belt, her touch sensing all the vials.

“No, not really. Not these.” Axelia hummed and rested against her sword, stretching her legs out in front of her. Girl that was talking with her, frowned.

“Get my bag.” Axelia’s hand rose lazily as she pointed to the horse, her nails, dirty, looking like claws. Letting go of her little sister, girl scurried up and run to horse, to detach the bag from the horse. Her brother rushing to her aid.

“Why is it so heavy?” the boy asked.

“Silver sword… and vials and stuff…” Axelia mumbled, her eyes looking up at the sky.

“Which one is it?” Girl asked, kneeling besides Axelia and rummaging through the bag.

“White Raffard's Decoction.” Axelia mumbled, making girl look at her with slight panic.

“Of course, you don’t know one.” Axelia sighed heavily, not believe that she was trusting her life in the hands of seventeen-year-old and bunch of kids.

“It’s in roundish vial. Light grey with tinge of yellow.” Axelia grumbled. Girl offered one vial to Axelia. She-witcher glanced at it with corner of her eye.

“No… that’s Golden Oriole.” Axelia mumbled. Girl held another vial in her hands.

“This one?” She asked, hopefully.

“That’s Bear pheromones. Do you really see any bears around us?” Axelia’s head rolled to the side. Girl frantically searched the bag for the right vial, while her sister sat beside her.

“That one.” Axelia nodded towards the smaller girl. “The one that she’s holding.” Axelia reached her hand out like a snake, her palm up and her fingers moving, patiently waiting for the girl to put it in her hand.

“Sapphira, give it to her.” Older girl nudged her sister. When Axelia received the vial, she pulled out the cork and chugged the contents of the vial. Making slight sound of disgust, Axelia’s hands fell to her sides on the ground, her head lulling back against the hilt of her sword and her mouth hanging open similar to a corpse. She just sat there, all sprawled out as if her soul had left her.

“Is she dead?” the boy asked, sitting on Axelia’s other side.

“Did we kill her?” the boy continued in a whisper, raising on his knees to stare at Axelia’ face. Her eyes were still open but she didn’t blink or move or anything. The older girl rose on her knees as well to glance up at Axelia’s face. She-witcher’s mouth twitched a little, slowly closing.

“No… I don’t think so…” Girl whispered leaning closer to Axelia’s face. Curiously she reached for witcheress’ face.

Next second, Axelia’s body jerked. Her toes digging into the ground as well as her nails. Her mouth glued shut, her jaw tensing. Her sudden movement making the three kids jump back.

“Hey…” the smaller girl nudged Axelia’s leg with a twig. Axelia’s mouth moved couple of times, but no sound came out.

“What?” she finally rasped.

“You still with us?” boy asked. Axelia only nodded, but other than that, remained in her position. Silence took over.

Far off one could hear some birds, grasshoppers in the tall grass of the fields. The wind, ruffling the bushes behind them alongside with grass. The small runnel let out sounds of splashing water.

“I’m Vima.” Girl putted her hand on her chest. “This is my sister Sapphira.” She pulled the smaller girl to her side. “And this is our brother Ugard.” She motioned to the boy on Axelia’s other side.

“Hmm…” Axelia hummed, small smile twitching on her lips, “I don’t care.”

“Get on that horse.” Axelia mumbled, her hand creeping along the grass for her bag.

“And you are walking, because I am not carrying anyone anymore.” Axelia sat up straight and pointed at Vima.

“Of course.” Children nodded and scurried to the horse. Axelia walked down the ditch to the runnel, to wash her face. Letting her wet hands run through her hair, Axelia started their way back, once again.

“Why are you in a dress? I thought that witchers wore armour.” Vima wondered, walking besides Axelia. She-witcher only snorted but didn’t answer her question.

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

It was almost midday when they reached the towns gate. The clouds had gathered and they day had turned gloomy. The courtyard of the grand-house was empty. Everybody most likely were looking for the children. Rain started to trickle lightly on their hair.

“Lord and Lady Chetword!” Axelia raised her voice that it echoed all around the buildings. Two guards peeked their heads out of the doors and then rushed back in.

“Oh, My God!” Soon after came cries of the mother who rushed for her found children.

“Oh, thank the spirits above, you are safe!” woman fell to her knees on the wet cobblestones and hugged her children close. Lord Chetword stood before Axelia and profusely thanked her for such deed and help. For a second Axelia’s eyes flickered above his shoulders towards the doors.

“Whatever you need, tell me and you’ll be granted.” Lord Chetword was talking, but Axelia’s eyes took in Yennefer and Ciri, who had come out to look at what’s happening. Soon Geralt with Jaskier joined them too. Yennefer walked closer to Geralt, saying something to him.

“An undisturbed bath and getting rest of my stuff would be all I need.” Axelia said, her eyes finally flicking back to Lord in front of her.

“Of course. It shall be done.”

Before Axelia could make her way towards the grand-house to get her shit together, all three children clunk to her. Vima and Ugard enveloping her into a hug, while Sapphira clutched she-witcher’s leg.

“Thank you.” Children smiled at her. Axelia was stiff as a rode, her arms at her sides as she gave them passive mhm hum, and walked to the house.

“Since when do you do charity? I thought you were a witcher.” Yennefer hummed as Axelia walked closer. Axelia didn’t answer only bumped her shoulder harshly into the sorceress’s while passing by and disappeared in the house.

“Well, that calls for a song. Such heroic deed.” Jaskier mumbled quietly and went into the house too, Ciri on his heels. Both of them wanting to know what had happened.

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

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

tags:

@boiled-onionrings @fandomwithnolifesblog @901seconds @kingniazx @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong @stitchattacks @ayamenimthiriel @stormfire6 @mr-illegal-king @stretchkingblog97 @mikariell95 @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia @martian-m @republicansithlord @notso-fetch @lizliz3107 @godlydolans @arsaky-lou @eternallyvenus @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith @writingmi @staringmoony @kenai731 @holychic @dramaticturnaway @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @seouldesire @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark @fandomhell97 @newtdisneywho @ekaymnslvs @deansbbyblog @hopplessdreamer @dejewskoo @sleepy-bunnie @strangerliaa @puffedchoco @mommableaubear @secretsthathauntus @sailor-moons-butt @sageandberries-png @star017 @rahdaleigh @introvertedmouse @weirdowithnobeardo @katkit73 @whitewolfandthefox @fire-in-her-veinz

a/n: pardon, if Tumblr doesn't let me tag you

It’s about to get lit next chapter, because somebody is about to be kidnapped. There’s gonna be running in long dresses. Axelia and Yennefer will be bitches at each other. It’s gonna be a shit-show. Geralt is still confused puppy about his feelings. But Yennefer can really go fuck herself in my fic, tho.

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dascarecrow · 4 years ago

Text

The Failed Raid - A Gentle Recovery IV

The fervor from the failure of the raid was still going strong. The staff of UA were still trying to come to terms with what had happened. The students were still trying to understand what exactly had happened to begin with. And into this havoc had arrived two concerned souls.

“I swear I’m gonna tear the next idiot that gets in our way in half!” Well concerned if unblessed in social niceties. The two walking through the halls were Inko Midoriya and Mitsuki Bakugou, the mothers of Izuku and Katsuki who had been on the raid. They had seen Izuku’s injuries on the news report and had charged over to the school the instant they had been able to process what they saw. After Mitsuki had revived a fainted Inko that is.

The concerned mother of Midoriya hadn’t said much, too worried over her son to express many words. It was a sad fact of her life that Izuku tended to wind up injured on his path to becoming a hero. A fact that had become increasingly harder for her to cope with by herself. Izuku moving into the dorms had only increased her fears as she wouldn’t be able to see for herself that he was fine each day. Her husband Hisashi loved his wife and son dearly but his job overseas kept him from being involved as much as he wised to be. She was thankful she had Mitsuki and her husband to speak with about her concerns or she may have gone crazy with terror for Izuku.

“Do you think Izuku is okay?” the fretting mother asked her fiercer friend. Mitsuki’s already furious face grew angrier. “He better be! I swear if that kid doesn’t have all of his pieces I’m going go take down the punks responsible myself!” That was one benefit of the friendship between the two mothers. Mitsuki was hot blooded enough to get mad for both of them, unleashing her fury on the unsuspecting fools who dared look at the Midoriyas with anything less than kindly expressions. This wasn’t without it’s downsides of course. When a receptionist stopped them for a security check and was far more rude than they had any right to be in Mitsuki’s opinion she had let loose on them with verbal tirade that would terrify even hardened Villains. Unfortunately that had only inspired more attitude from the receptionist. Mitsuki’s husband had to step in to deescalate the situation. Surprisingly enough once she was calmed down he had grabbed the receptionist and threatened to tear out their kidneys and eat them raw if they weren’t allowed into the school. It had done the trick.

The duo finally arrived at the door to Izuku’s room and opened it, not prepared for what they would see.

------

Izuku’s snack time was going well for himself he thought. Uraraka and Eri were cutting up fruit and feeding it to him, not able to even slightly move his arms right now. He chanced a look at Uraraka. She had lost her smile, her mouth settled into a small “o” shape. Her eyes were half lidded, looking like she was intensely focused and yet not fully in reality. She appeared to be in a dream to Izuku, who couldn’t help but find her face like this entrancing. He blushed a bit at his staring and looked away but couldn’t help glancing back.

“Here you go Papa. A nice tasty strawberry!” The little unicorn who had declared Izuku her father offered up the sweet fruit with a just as if not sweeter smile. The pattern here would be Uraraka would cut up the fruit and Eri would feed it to him. As enjoyable as it was Izuku was starting to feel a bit too coddled. He wanted to at least try feeding himself. His arms weren’t feeling as sore so maybe he could at least try.

“Open up Papa the little bunny is going to it’s burrow.” Eri held up an apple slice cut to look like a rabbit. Izuku decided now was a good time to work on using his arms again. “Actually Eri why don’t you let me feed myself.” The young girl looked at him confused. “But you can’t use your arms right now Papa. We have to feed you.” “She’s right Deku.” Uraraka took notice of Izuku’s attempt at assertion. “Well they’re feeling a bit better now. So I’d like to try feeding myself.”

Uraraka’s face took on what could be called a caring glare, her effort at looking authoritative. “Oh no you don’t Deku. We are here to take care of you so don’t even think about overdoing it.” The green boy wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “It’s fine. See.” He went to grab the apple slice and despite great strain was able to pick it up. An unimpressed Uraraka easily took it away from him. “Now enough of that. We are your nurses. Right now our only concern is taking care of you. Now eat up.” She held up the apple slice for him to eat. Izuku was still trying to be stubborn. “But...” “Stop being stubborn. You can’t feed yourself right now. Let us do it for you. Now stop misbehaving or your nice nurse might have to punish you.” She said the last words with a bit of a teasing grin. Izuku was caught off guard by her brazen words. Uraraka held the apple rabbit up for Izuku to eat again. “Come on Deku. Open up.” She was almost sing-song in the declaration. Izuku decided it would be easier to humor her than fight on this and was about to do as she asked when he noticed the door to the room open, seeing his mother and Aunt Mitsuki standing there. They both seemed surprised by what they saw and the latter took charge of the situation.

“Whoops didn’t know you were busy. We’ll come back in a bit.” With that she quickly shut the door, leaving an embarrassed Izuku and Uraraka to wonder about their presence.

-------

Mitsuki broke out laughing after closing the door. “Hahahaha! Aw that kid. Here we are fretting over if he’s okay or not and that kid’s having the time of his life.” She looked at Inko who was sporting a relieved smile. “Thank goodness he’s alright.” Mitsuki smiled at her friend’s relief, internally happy her honorary nephew wasn’t in worse shape. “Okay let’s go in and see if we can’t embarrass the kid the to death.”

The room’s residents had been surprised to receive visitors but they weren’t when said visitors returned. “Hi Nana! Hi Auntie!” Eri was about the only one already in the room who wasn’t slightly bashful at their visitors. She ran over and got a hug from her adopted grandmother, Mitsuki silent with literal stars in her eyes at being called “Auntie”. She absolutely adored the little unicorn, the closest she was going to be getting to grandchildren for the foreseeable future given her son was pretty much a goblin. Inko looked at Eri with a playful curiosity. “So what are you doing?”

Eri smiled and spoke with pride and joy. “Me and mama are being Papa’s nurses!” Inko spared a look at her son and the girl she was quite certain would one day be her daughter in law. The round faced girl stood up from where she was sitting once the mothers had walked in, not wanting to create a bad impression. Inko then turned her attention back to her honorary granddaughter. “Oh are you now?” The kind smile never left Inko’s face. Eri nodded happily. “Yep. We’ve been making sure his bed is nice and soft and we also fed him cause he can’t even lift his own food. We even blew bubbles with him!” The young girl was excitedly going on about how she and her mother had been tending to her father. It was a sight that would melt even a heart of stone.

Mitsuki finally exited her cuteness induced stupor. “Oh aren’t you a good girl. Making sure your Papa gets all better. Do you know what good girls get?” Eri shook her head in confusion. Mitsuki smiled widely. “They get cuddles!” The hot blooded woman scooped the little unicorn up in a great big hug, rubbing her cheek against Eri’s. The young girl certainly didn’t mind, happy with the contact.

Uraraka was now rather nervous. Her crush’s mother had seen her actually acting like a nurse to him! She desperately wanted to escape. And an idea for how to do so just popped into her head! “Ah-uh... Tea! I should get some tea for you! Eri would you like to see how you make tea properly?” The young girl eagerly nodded, always happy to spend some time with her mother. She managed to squeeze herself out of Mitsuki’s arms, much to the passionate woman’s disappointment. Inko smiled at the mother-daughter duo. “Why don’t I join you dear? We did stop by unannounced.” Uraraka raised her hands and shook her head. “Oh no that’s not necessary. You came all the way here. I don’t mind. Really.” But Inko would not be deterred. “Oh but I insist. You’re already doing so much for Izuku. I want to help as a thank you.” What was it with mothers being able to make you feel guilty no matter what you did. Having surrendered this battle of wills that she never stood a chance in Uraraka led the way out of the room, her daughter and the woman she was certain would one day be her mother in law following her.

Left in the room were Izuku and Mitsuki, who took a seat next to the injured boy. She brought out a wide smile at him, her head in her hand. “Well someone’s having fun now aren’t they?” At Izuku’s confused look she continued. “Got your own personal nurses and everything. I swear this school really does go beyond when it comes to service. Mmh, mmh, mmh. I mean really you get an adorable unicorn fussing over you. And that Ura girl. Oh it’s so precious. She’s helping you heal and tending to you like a dedicated wife.” Mitsuki was waving her head back and forth through her statement, excited over the young romance she was witnessing.

Izuku was far less pleased with her words. Blushing dark red at her words he tried to convince her otherwise. “Oh nonononono. It’s not like that between us. It’s just... Eri is usually so withdrawn and not outgoing. It was a surprise that she pushed for something like this and we didn’t want to discourage her. That’s all.”

Mitsuki lost the teasing grin on her face, now sporting a frown at the boy. “You know you’re allowed to enjoy this right?” Izuku looked at her in surprise and a bit of confusion. Mitsuki sighed at his dense nature. “You are just like your father in the worst ways. That girlfriend of yours didn’t get dressed up like that because of the kid. She did because she wanted you to see her in it.” Izuku was disbelieving to say the least. “What? No. That’s not... It’s just because of Eri isn’t... Do you really think that’s the truth?” Mitsuki looked at him with sympathy. “Of course it is. Take advice about women from an actual one alright.”

Izuku thought over his honorary aunt’s words. Uraraka wasn’t doing this whole thing just for him... right? There’s no way. It was all for Eri. But there was a part of him that honestly wished she was doing this for him. Not just because their adopted daughter was pushing for it. “Now...” He got taken out of his thoughts by Mitsuki’s voice. “Let’s talk about how you’ve been treating your future wife.”

Izuku really wished he could always remember that Kacchan’s mother seemed to live and breath by her hobby of trying to embarrass him to death.

------

It was a tense silence as Uraraka and Inko were preparing the tea and coffe. Tense for the floating girl at least. Inko seemed quite content, which did nothing to put the young hero in training at peace. She had decided to work on the tea, adding some lemon flavor to the current brew. Inko meanwhile was working on coffee, having just added a french vanilla creamer to her concoction. Eri watched on with rapt attention, honestly quite curious at how tea and coffee were made. Whenever Aunt Yaomo had a tea party with her the tea was already made. It was something special for the young unicorn.

Finally Inko decided to end the silence. “There’s something I’d like to say to you young lady.” Uraraka instantly stood up straight and turned to look at Inko. This is exactly why she wanted to get away from the plump woman. To avoid being interrogated! “Thank you.” Those were not words Uraraka was expecting to hear. “Izuku... hasn’t had an easy life.” The older woman didn’t turn around, so neither of the other occupants of the room could see the sad look in her eyes.

“For his entire life Izuku has always loved heroes.” She gained a gentle smile on her face. “He admired them so much. And it wasn’t because of their Quirks or how they seemed invincible or anything like that. He respected that they were people who chose to help others no matter what. And he wanted nothing more than to be just like them. Ever since he first learned to walk and talk.” Uraraka wasn’t surprised but now had a look of confused worry on her face.

“He wanted nothing more than to be a hero. But... the world seemed to have other plans.” Inko lost her smile. “For so long we thought he didn’t have a Quirk. And the people around us... they were less than kind.” And that was certainly underselling it. Memories of her dear baby boy being pushed down and called names when children thought no one was watching. Memories of how other adults would look at her with pity or condescension or whisper insults about her “lacking child” when they thought she couldn’t hear them. “He was... is... so kind. He just wanted to be a hero because it would give him a chance to do the right thing for others. And all anyone ever saw was how he would never fit into their view of society.” Inko had to stop to keep herself from crying.

Uraraka grew saddened as well, and internally a bit angry. Deku was the sweetest guy she ever met! So what if he didn’t have a Quirk for most of his life? He was still one of the most noble, caring and heroic people in the world! There were a lot of Pros who could take lessons from him in being heroes!

“It wasn’t easy for him.” Inko was able to continue on. “I was always there and did my best to give him the support he needed but it just wasn’t enough. My husband, bless his heart, was there for us as much as he could possibly be but his work kept him far busier than any of us would have liked. No one really wanted to be friends with a Quirkless child. The only one he really had with him was Katsuki.” And Inko suspected the child of her best friend hadn’t been the greatest friend to her son.

“And then one day that all changed.” Uraraka perked up at the apparent change in course. “After he started here at UA he started talking about the people he met. The friends he made.” At that Inko couldn’t stop the smile on her face. “And the first one he ever spoke about was you.” And now there was a light blush on the girl’s round face. Along with a gentle smile. “The first time he ever told me about the girl who saved him during the entrance exam. It was the happiest I had ever seen him in a very long time.” Oh Deku had to stop being so flattering. “As his time here has gone on he told me more and more about the friends he was making. But you were always the one he told me about the most.” Oh dear it seemed the floating girl’s heart was fluttering on wings now. “So I wanted to say thank you. For being my son’s friend. And for seeing him. Not just what he can do.”

Uraraka had to turn around. No longer willing to risk letting her face be seen. She was embarrassed, elated and uncertain all at once. Geez Deku made her sound so... amazing! She brought her hands over her heart, hoping it would slow it down a bit. “You know... Deku saved me.” Now it was Inko’s turn to look at Uraraka, who was facing away from anyone else. “In the entrance exam I got stuck under some debris and couldn’t escape. Everyone else had run off when a giant robot appeared. But Deku charged in to save me. He didn’t have a single point but he did everything he could to save someone in trouble.” Uraraka’s face was now sporting a gentle smile. “Izuku... is a true hero.” She almost whispered it out, given how softly the words were said.

Inko had to keep herself from crying. Ever since that fateful day at the doctor’s Inko prayed for someone, anyone, to look at her son for the kind and caring young man he truly was. Not at how he how he couldn’t measure up to the standards that society had deemed were needed for excellence. And it appeared that the powers beyond had a moment of sympathy and compassion for her child. ‘Izuku... You’ve made some wonderful friends!’

Eri looked between her mother and grandmother. She did understand what they were saying. To a degree. Apparently Papa wasn’t treated too nicely (which made her sad) until he got the school and met Mama (which made her happy). Though she was wondering what any of that had to do with tea. And she decided to voice her thoughts. “Is the tea ready yet?”

The two older women were snapped out of their reverie by the youngest of them speaking. Uraraka looked at her with a smile. “Yes it is sweetie. Let’s go take it to your Papa.” With that declaration the women grabbed the brews they had been working on and made their way back to the room housing the boy who connected them together.

--------

The three females had finally returned to the room, carrying hot beverages. “Okay tea’s ready!” Uraraka said cheerfully. “Yeah. Now we have something nice to drink for Cookie Time!” Count on Eri to make adorable childlike comments. Mitsuki had to hold herself back from cuddling the unicorn girl to pieces. “Oh how thoughtful of you all. I haven’t enjoyed a Cookie Time in ages!” Yeah Mitsuki wasn’t definitely enthralled by Eri’s inherent adorability. Hard to blame her. Sweets and sweet drinks with an adorable unicorn like Eri. Who could resist that?

Mitsuki’s words had triggered something in Eri’s mind. She had an idea form that was inspired by a cookbook picture she had seen. She proceeded to tug on Inko’s skirt, getting her grandmother’s attention. Said grandmother looked at her with a smile. “Yes sweetie?” Eri beckoned with her finger, leading the older woman to bend down. The little unicorn whispered her idea into her Nana’s ear. Said Nana clearly thought it was a good idea.

“That’s a fine idea sweetie.” She stood up to look at her son. “Eri here has something she’d like to do for Cookie Time and wants my help for it. We’ll be back in a bit.” As unicorn and grandmother made their way out the door Mitsuki got up. “Hold up you two I want in on this.” Izuku looked at her a bit surprised. “You want to go with them?” Mitsuki gave him a look accentuated by a mischievous grin. “What you thought I was here for you? Heck no. I want me some cuddles! And the only source of those for miles around is on her way elsewhere. So later!” The fierce tempered woman quickly made her way over to her friend. Eri took Inko’s hand, leading her forward. “Come on Nana it’s this way.” Inko smiled indulgently at her granddaughter and said nothing as she was lead along. Mitsuki shot one last teasing grin at Izuku before closing the door. “Have fun you two.”

With her final words Mitsuki had made Izuku and Uraraka keenly aware that they were by themselves in the room. Said realization had them nervous and starting to blush, wondering how to process this development. They wouldn’t have to wait long before they had company yet again however.

#My Hero Academia #It Took A Village #The Failed Raid #A Gentle Recovery

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holylulusworld · 5 years ago

Text

Royal Pain – Part 5 - United we stand

Summary: You are princess, about to marry the Alpha of your dreams, or rather your true mate but he’s not what you thought he would be…

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x PrincessReader, Alpha!Sam Winchester, OFC Gwendoline, King!John Winchester x Queen!Mary Winchester, King Bobby Singer, Knight Garth Fitzgerald IV, Lord Castiel, Knight Gadreel, Lord Crowley, Prince Cole, OFC King Edward

Warnings: angst, Abo dynamics, arranged marriage, protective/caring Alpha, violence, threatening, fluff, comforting, pregnant Omega, scenting, nesting

Royal Pain Masterlist

Weeks passed and your father gets ready to leave your side. He hates leaving you alone in a foreign kingdom, but he can see Dean is a loving and caring Alpha. He even started collecting things for a nest.

Most of the Alpha’s leave nesting completely to their Omegas but Dean is determined to help you with anything during your pregnancy. His pup is growing inside of you, so he wants to make sure you feel comfortable in your new home.

Right now, he’s pacing around his mothers’ room, trying to get another warm blanket to make sure you will not freeze.

“Dean, son, you need to calm. It’s summer.” Mary chuckles patting her son’s cheek. “You will suffocate Y/N with so many blankets. She doesn’t need to sweat.”

“Please mother, I need it…” Dean purrs tugging at the blanket Mary is holding in her hands. He won’t budge, determined to get the blanket for you he snarls.

“Fine, take it Dean but I swear it’s too much, son. Y/N already started making her nest on your bed. All she needs are a few blankets, pillows your clothes and most important you by her side. You need to give her your full attention, leave everything else to us.” Mary smiles as Dean presses the blanket to his chest, purring in satisfaction. He won against his mother.

“I need to bring this to my mate. I left her alone for way too long. Today is the day her father will leave, and my mate is nervous, sad and a bit scared of what will come. Prince Cole still didn’t leave our country and we don’t know why. Gabriel returned, telling me Cole’s father is on his way with at least twelve knights.” Dean sniffs at the blanket, hoping you will find rest.

“Your father already send Gadreel and Lord Garth to welcome King Edward. Cole’s father has no reason to harm your mate. She was married to you long before his son tried to woo for her. Lord Castiel will explain the situation to King Edward. He never gave his agreement someone else can woo for your mate. Rufus lied and will have to face the consequences of his actions.” Mary gentle strokes her son’s cheek, understanding his worry. “Go to your mate.”

“Thank you, mother.”

----

“I explained the situation to King Edward, still he insists on an audience with you, King Bobby and Princess Y/N.” Castiel sighs. “I even showed him the counterfeit. He agreed to leave his knights outside of the castle. I got a bad feeling and ordered more of our knights to protect the castle.”

“Lord Castiel, you are always reliable. I appreciate your great tactical skill.” John praises. Castiel is unimpressed, almost stoic but he appreciates King John’s praises.

“We need to be careful, my King.” Castiel turns toward King Bobby, handing him a letter. “King Edward believes his son should’ve been the one to woo for Princess Y/N. I don’t know where this sudden interest in our princess is coming from, but Prince Cole is a dangerous young man.” Castiel’s features darken and he takes a deep breath.

“Why, Lord Castiel?” Sam asks. “I thought he’s an honorable and fine young man.”

“That’s a general opinion but most of the people don’t know the dark side of this fine prince. He tends to take what he wants. Horses, money…Omega’s. Cole doesn’t care about claiming marks. I suggest we order more knights to guard the castle and Princess Y/N.” Castiel looks at his king, waiting for his order.

“Lord Castiel, send a falcon to Lord Cain and Queen Jody. Inform Lord Cain to watch over my castle. I’ll remain here until King Edward left my friend’s country. Inform Queen Jody about the situation and tell her I can’t come home yet.” King Bobby orders.

“Yes, my king,” Castiel says already leaving the room to take care of his king’s orders. “Maybe we should send a falcon to Lord Ketch too, John. He was always reliable and treated Y/N like a sister. I do not trust Edward’s intentions a bit.”

John is silent for a moment before he nods, agreeing to his friend’s plan. “You’re right. Garth, prepare a chamber for King Bobby and tell his knights about the new situation. Gadreel makes sure more knights guard the castle from now on. Close the drawbridge, everyone needs to stay in town. Everyone entering or leaving needs special permission from now on.”

“Your highness.” Garth bows. “My lord,” Gadreel adds. “Leave the security to us. I’ll make sure no one harms your family or King Bobby.”

“Good. After that, rest both of you. I know you were guarding Dean’s room last night along with the other knights.” King John orders.

“Yes, my king.” Both knights exclaim before rushing out of the throne room.

“What now…?” Bobby sighs.

“Now we will make sure no one gets hold of your daughter. She belongs to my family now, Bobby. No one will hurt her.”

Bobby nods, giving his old friend a cracked smile. Bobby always hated violence, he gave up fighting years ago, but for you, he will rip anyone apart.

----

“My Lady, this is a wonderful nest.” Gwendoline swoons and you nod, smiling. Slowly circling the bed you rub your stomach. Soon it will be swollen with Dean’s pup and you can’t wait for you to start showing.

“Thank you, for everything, Gwendoline. You should rest now. My father said he will stay, along with his knights. I’m afraid King John was right; a storm is coming my dear friend. We need to be prepared.” You say and Gwendoline squeezes your shoulder tightly.

“No one will hurt you, my lady. I’ll defend you with my last breath.” Gwendoline exclaims. She’s not just a maid. Gwendoline is a trained knight, almost as skilled as Castiel. Only your father, Lord Castiel and you know about her secret skills.

“I know, Gwendoline. I hope you don’t have to.” Your smile grows seeing Dean entering the room with another blanket and two more pillows. He’s nervously glancing at the nest.

“I see you later, my lady, prince Dean.” Gwendoline excuses herself, leaving the room, smiling.

“My princess, I got more pillows and a blanket.” Dean stammers showing you his bait. He’s so proud so you take the blanket, purring. “Wonderful, my prince. We can place it on the foot of the bed to make sure we have a spare blanket.

“Do you need more? I can get more, Omega.” Nervously circling the finished nest Dean rubs his chin. “Or more clothing? What do you need, Y/N?”

Silently chuckling you place your hand onto Dean’s chest, to make him stop pacing.

“We have a perfect nest thanks to you, Dean. Look.” Pointing toward the nest you purr and Dean nods, not knowing if it’s perfect.

“You don’t need anything else?” He asks and you shake your head, now pressing your body against his warm chest. “Only you, Alpha.”

“Hmm…”

----

“Nonsense!” Bobby yells while John needs all his strength to hold his friend back. “Y/N married Dean weeks before your son came to King John’s castle to almost pounce on my daughter. She is mated and married to Prince Dean, he is her Alpha and the father of her pup!”

“Pup?” Cole’s features darken and a devilish grin appears on his lips. “You sure it’s Dean’s?” He snarls and John needs Castiel’s help to hold Bobby back.

“Take that back! Who are you to insult my innocent daughter to lay with someone else than her husband? She was innocent before marriage. I will not allow you to get close to my daughter.” Bobby is furious. Full Alpha now he glares at King Edward who remains silent.

“Bobby, stay calm,” John whispers but his friend is too angry to think straight.

“How can you let your son come here and accuse my daughter to not be faithful. How can you come here and try to get hold of a married, mated and pregnant Omega? Is your son that sick? I heard the rumors but couldn’t believe your son is after mated Omega’s.” Bobby snarls.

“It’s a nice game. Do you know how it feels to have the Omega of another Alpha, to ruin her? The Alpha will reject her, and she dies or he will not be able to knot her ever again.” Cole chuckles and a cold shiver runs down Bobby’s back.

“You sick bastard! Out of my castle, now! Y/N is my son’s mate. She is my daughter now. We will defend her with all might.” John yells not able to hold his anger back any longer. “Out!”

“We are here to negotiate, King John.” Edward finally speaks. “My son wants Y/N and he’ll get her. We can do this without violence.”

“I only want her for one night and then Dean can have her back.” Cold chuckles and Sam blinks a few times before his fist collides with Cole’s face, breaking his nose. Blood is soaking Cole's clothing, but he still smirks. “It will be a pleasure to have her for sure. I step over your dead bodies if I have to…”

“No, you won’t.” John rumbles. “If this means war, so be it. Be prepared every king, every nobleman, everyone will know why we are fighting. Everyone will know what kind of an Alpha your son is. I’m sure Queen Rowena will not allow your son to marry her daughter after getting to know what happened today.”

“How do you want to prove it?” King Edward retorts, puffing his chest.

“Oh, I assumed we need a reliable witness, so I brought Lord Crowley with me.” Castiel shrugs as Crowley steps out of the shadows, chuckling.

“Hello Kings, Lords, and Prince Samuel. How have you been? I heard someone was after my beloved Y/N. It pained me she was not taking my offer to marry her, but I found happiness with my beloved Abaddon. I have to thank this wonderful Omega to let me find my true mate.”

“Lord Crowley…” King Edward turns pale, falling onto his chair as Crowley smirks. “What a pity, King Edward. I think mother will not be amused to hear about your son’s inclination.”

“I only wanted to make my son happy.” Edward sighs, shaking his head. “I tried anything, but he’s…sick.”

“Father!” Cole gasps.

“We leave, now, Cole.”

----

Dean purrs as you snuggle into his side, head resting against his chest you close your eyes only enjoying the closeness.

Your Alpha’s senses work on overload. Inhaling deeply, he can smell your scent mixed with his pup.

“You smell so good having my pup, Omega,” Dean whispers. “I’ll protect you.”

----

“I have to thank you all, King John, Prince Sam, Castiel…Lord Crowley.” King Bobby says.

“That’s unnecessary, my friend – united we stand…” John says as all men nod.

SPN Forever Tags

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hanjislabig · 4 years ago

Text

Hanji's Past

"Isn’t it worth trying?"

————-

(Thats an extract from a story me and my friend write. An evening with Levi and Hanji, eating crackers, drinking red wine and talking about old wounds.)

Hanji looks at Levi with loving eyes. "Offer up your beating hearts... that’s a really serious promise... at least that’s what my mother always said." She takes another cracker and slips it into her mouth, while relaxing on the bed again.

Her last sentence makes Levi sit up. "You've actually never told me much about your parents, how comes?"

"There’s nothing special I could tell you,” she answers his question and shrugs casually. “But what do you mean, I already did tell you some things.”

"Right, you did", Levi says. He has noticed her unusual reaction to his question immediately. "But only a few things from your childhood. I mean - what else? Are they still alive, are you still in contact with them, do they know about me, whatever."

Hanji remains silent for a moment. She often talks about her parents casually, but rather with the intention to displace the latest happenings. The ones that she’d rather ban out of her mind completely. Now she gets confronted with everything again, she doesn’t hate to talk about what happened, but she’s definitely not keen to tell it everyone.

Hanji takes a deep sigh before she changes her position and sits up, pulling her legs against her body and wrapping her arms around them. "You really wanna know? I mean you don’t have to ask out of politeness.“

Levi changes his own position a little bit. "Sound like there's something that's not easy to talk about", he says. "So I only wanna know if you wanna tell me."

Hanji sighs again but nods then. She props her chin on her knees and starts thinking where to begin.

"So, my father was a scout in survey corps. He always used to be away for long periods of time, when they went on expeditions. Besides he always needed to leave for Trost to work. In his free time though when he was at home, he did a lot of stuff with chemistry and architecture. I loved to read in his books and rummage in his stuff,“

Hanji chuckles lightly at the memory.

"Altough i didn’t understand anything of these academic textes. You know I just wanted to seem as smart as did. So I assume his interests somehow woke the interest in me too.“

She sighs.

“My moms a botanist. Sometimes she also cared for the kids in our neighborhood. We also had this huge lively garden where I spent a lot of my childhood in. She planted her flowers everywhere, it was beautiful, especially in spring when everything bloomed. Sometimes I simply sat the whole day in the grass, watching the insects flying around and doing their tasks, listening to the birds... I loved the nature, I remember that.“

From one moment to another Hanji gets more serious again and it seems like she came back to reality.

"When I was 12 years old, my father died,” she continues with a voice that doesn’t reveal much, “he was one of the deceased of an expedition. My mother and I didn’t know much about titans back then, no one has ever seen one, they were only known through stories. When I was a child... we didnt have these wall problems yet,” Hanji stares down on her feet, lost in her thoughts.

“We got the message over a letter from the commander. That my father died in war against the so called titans.”

Hanjis eyes narrow, almost not noticeable while she speaks about the titans. Even if it’s only for a short moment, it seems like her attitude towards these monster changes.

"Before that happened I never considered joining the sure corps. I didn’t even think about it. It was nothing more than the job my father had. But after I got to know he got killed by titans...“ she falters, "... I think that could’ve been the trigger for my Titan obsession. But not exactly like I see them now, no... I wanted retribution, revenge, justice for what happened to my father. I got obsessed with titans because of all the hate I carried in myself. So I guess that was the moment when i realized I want to avenge my father and I decided from one day to another that I’ll do the same job as he did. I wanted to kill all of these titans everyone was talking about and afraid of."

Hanji swallows with a dry throat and takes a brief break.

"Like I said, I was twelve years old at this point. My father passed away only a few months before the recruitment for the next legion started. I was completely convinced that becoming a soldier would be my destination so I... I let myself get registered that day... but without telling my mom...“

Hanji lowers her eyes and gazes at her hands, a feeling of guilt coming over her.

“This lead us to heaving the worst fight ever. It was... something worse ive ever experienced in my entire life before at this point,” Hanji can’t help but pulling a slightly pained face as the memories flash her, “I told my mother that I was joining the corps. And she said no. And I said yes. My mother...I realize it now... she was so concerned and frightened. If I just imagine this... her only daughter wants to do the exact same job that got her husband killed only a few months ago."

Hanji presses her lips together.

“She didn’t want me to go... but I didn’t listen. I didn’t care, I thought she’d be too selfish to let me go... how could I-... I was too young to understand how the love of a mother works..."

Silence again.

"I packed my few necessary things and left my mother behind. I was so furious, you can’t imagine. Full of blind anger and a raging, ambitious heart. I can-... still see her face... this expression in her eyes when I-... when I left without turning around a single time...”

Hanji slowly shakes her head in disbelief and breathes out shivering.

“That was the last time I saw my mother. I’ve never seen her again since then.” She has to look away from Levi, her facial expression tormented and hurt as she remembers what happened back then.

Levi listens to her the whole time without saying a word, just focusing on her story. When she talks about her life back then he feels a little pain in his chest. It sounds more than beautiful. So beautiful he's having a hard time even imagining it.

He finds it hard to believe such a happy childhood is even possible. But then he learns how that happiness ended. It's just a story like all the others, nothing they haven't heard a hundred times before. And still it's not. Because it's her story. Her pain, her motivation, her reason to choose the path she chose, the cross she has to bear every day.

There's this picture inside his head, a twelve-year-old Hanji, fuelled by sorrow and hatred, trying to turn that pain into power. This part of the story seems much more familiar and Levi thinks to himself that at least she had something to focus her anger on. In his own story there was no bad guy, no-one who had ruined his life and still it was ruined. So he turned his hatred against the whole world, but the whole world is a bad enemy.

Levi continues listening and it doesn't get better. He feels sympathy for Hanji's mother, what her daughter did to her wasn't fair. But still he doesn't blame Hanji. She was young, passionate, furious, had a goal. If she was anything like she's now that made her unstoppable. But back then she didn't have the far-sightedness to realise how what she was doing affected the person who cared about her most. Sometimes she still doesn't.

Hanji's wish to join the survey corps is just as understandable as her mother's for her to stay. It was a tragic situation with no possible outcome that would have been good for everyone. Still Hanji should have handled it differently. She knows that and this knowledge tears her apart. This is why Levi forgives her immediately. He's as sure that her mother would forgive her as well as he's sure Hanji won't ever. Maybe that's why she suffers from guilt issues whenever something happens to the people and creatures around her.

For almost two decades she's lived with the knowledge that it was her who has caused a person close to her pain and she never wants that to happen again. But whenever something similar happens she thinks it's her fault automatically. The fact that she hasn't found the courage to see her mother again since surely makes it worse. Hanji probably thinks she's a coward, which doesn't exactly help her build self-esteem. Levi moves a bit closer to her and starts massaging her neck soothingly.

"Thanks for telling me this", he says after remaining silent for a while. "What happened between you and your mother is really bad", he begins carefully.

"But you know that you did her wrong and that's the first step in the right direction. You didn't mean to hurt her back then, you just did what we all have to do at some point, you chose how to live your life. She shouldn't have tried to stop you, that's probably what she's telling herself every day, but she was worried. And you shouldn't have left without talking to her about it, but you were a young girl who had just lost her father and got it all wrong. It's awful how it ended..."

Levi stops for a moment and his voice changes.

"...but it didn't end. You're alive, she's alive, thank whoever you want to thank for that. So many of our next of kin are dead, there's no way we can sort anything out or be united with them in this life again. You've got that chance so many of us dream about. Take it."

He gives Hanji an encouraging nudge.

"You've forgiven her and you love her, there's a high chance she's forgiven you as well and I'm a hundred percent sure she loves you. So what are you waiting for? You love each other, you miss each other. You've both made mistakes but we all do. If there's any way you can talk things out and become a family again, isn't it worth trying?"

#attack on titan #levihan headcanon #levihan #angst #hanji zoe #levi ackerman

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pinkykitten · 5 years ago

Text

never give UP

Stranger Things

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Warning: car accident, hospital, drinking and driving (do not do pls), speeding (also do not do), mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, alcohol

Specifics: angst, romance, race neutral reader, one-shot

People: billy hargrove, max mayfield, neil hargrove, your dad, your mom, your doctor

Words: 1,747

Request: By @intheendyouwillalwayskneel Hi, could I please get a Billy x romantic reader where Billy is speeding and they get into a wreck and she is permanently injured. Maybe she lurches forward and hits her head on the the breaking windshield. Then develops a brain hemorrhage and falls into a coma. Billy is horrified and heartbroken because it's all his fault.

Authors Note: wow this one i think i went a little overboard with the drama and story srry im a bit of a drama queen so ta-ta. this has a lot of things in it so if u cant read it or dont want to read it no shame and no hate, u do u. i do hope for those to read it to like it cuz i wanted to think outside the box. srry this took me quite a while to make another story ive just been rlly busy lately atm.

Crazy little thing called love played loudly on the speakers in Billy’s car. The windows were opened as the wind howled against your ears. The car’s engine roared as it sped down the darkly lit street. It was late at night and some folks would say that it was too dangerous for a drive but you and Billy were daredevils. You were opened to a rebellious chapter in your life after you met Billy. He was willing to take risks, he was the bad boy you would read every night in your romance books.

Your hand danced in the air outside of the window, creating a wave against the waving trees. You sang to the music as Billy laughed. He laughed like a mad man, feeling the adrenaline rush through his body. You and him howled like a bunch of crazy teenagers you were. You were young and you wanted to live your life.

“So how is this y/n? Is this wild enough for ya?” Billy shouted over the blaring music.

You took a swig of some alcohol located under the seat. It burned your throat as the liquid made its way down. You gave a look of disgust. Billy chuckled and took a drink himself, “too strong for you?”

You shook your head as you felt light. Alcohol still new to you so that small sip made you feel tipsy. You scooted closer to Billy and wrapped your hands around his face, bringing him closer to you. You kissed his lips and his cheek. Your lips made their way to his earlobe, biting lightly on the skin and then whispering into his ear, “Crazy turns me on.”

Billy raised his brow as he smirked, “is that so!” As quick as light his foot stepped on the gas pedal making the car seem to fly through the air. The miles were going higher and higher. At first you were having fun, enjoying the excitement but now it was getting too dangerous. Your smile disappeared and instead a frown was found on your face. You were actually scared.

“Billy okay thats enough. Slow down.”

He would not. Instead he sped more.

“Billy, I said stop it!” You were shaking. The car was going so fast that any minute it felt as if it would turn over and tumble around. Billy cackled loudly. His old, selfish attitude resurfacing. Out from the turn came a truck. Billy was speeding to such a degree that the car was zig-zagging. The car and the truck were about to make contact. Billy was like a deer in headlights. His laughing stopped and now all he did was freeze. He didn’t know what to do. He quickly lifted his hand to go across your body while your hands laid against the steering wheel. The wheel turned and the car spun out of control. It missed the truck but rolled down a grassy hill. The spin was so rough that you lunged forward, hitting your head against the windshield.

Billy quickly made sure you were alright but was met with a distraught view. Your head laid back against the seat. Your forehead was bloody and blood dripped out of your nose. You laid unconscious. Billy was so scared for you. He shook you, wanting you to wake up, “Y/n! Y/n! Please y/n please wake up. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears started to pour out of his eyes. He wanted you to be safe, to be happy.

He felt so guilty. Seeing you in the hospital bed, machines and things poking into you. It was all his fault. He would visit you everyday, no matter what. You weren’t respondent though, you were in a coma. Every day he hoped and prayed that you would wake up from it. It didn’t matter if you didn’t want to see him anymore or hated him he just needed you awake and alive. Your parents were furious. He would dodge seeing them every time. They wanted to kill him and probably stop him from seeing you but he couldn’t let that happen.

He needed to see you.

Billy entered into your room, flowers in hand. He set the flowers in a vase and put them beside you on the table. The doctor told him that even though you couldn’t move or be aware of anything you still could hear. Billy would always speak to you. He would tell you about his day, about your gifts, about your family. Even though he was going through a rough time at his home, you mattered more to him.

“Hey babe, its me Billy. I got you your favorite flowers today,” he softly massaged your hands. Hating seeing them motionless. Billy had cried so much during this time with you. He hated himself more now if that was even possible. He felt he was a failure to everyone, to you, to Max, to his mother. He felt he was just a waste. Tears started to drip from his eyes onto his cheek, “you know Max made a card for you.” He chuckles seeing the odd stickers on it and the drawings. He placed it next to your flowers. “She hopes you feel better and she misses you. I miss you too. Your parents miss you.” Silence. He despised the silence. He just wished you would jump out from that bed and live. “Baby, you gotta wake up. It doesn’t have to be for me, its has to be for your parents and for yourself. I’m so sorry for putting you through this. Its all my fault. I should be the one there not you, me!’

A knock filled in the silence. Quickly, Billy wiped his tears and saw that it was the doctor who came in. “Is everything alright here?”

Billy nodded. “Is everything okay doctor?”

“Well...y/n is going to have some complications if she wakes up from this coma. She developed a brain hemorrhage and we’re looking at maybe some sort of paralysis. We’re suspecting half of her body but it may be more, we’re not 100 percent sure.”

Billy was shocked and he couldn’t stop himself from crying.

“You monster!” Your father came in along with your mother. Your father ran up to Billy and clutched onto his denim jacket, tears also coming down his face. “How could you do this to my daughter?” The doctor was trying to stop the fight but your father was so irate. Your mother was sobbing in the background and Billy wished in that moment he was dead. Your father shook Billy and screamed at him. “You did this to her. Take a good look at her!” Billy turned to the side and saw you. You laid there calm. Tubes connected to you. “I never want to see you again. Not here, not now, not ever. If she wakes up from this she is banned from seeing or even talking about you. You will stop seeing her here and I swear to God if you think about walking in here again I will make sure you go through the same sufferings as my daughter!” Your dad shoved Billy out of the room and Billy ran out of the hospital. Sobbing silently, alone, quietly outside. Wishing the nightmares would just end.

Billy had tried to see you in the hospital but your father was always there and the doctors knew he wasn’t allowed there anymore. Billy made a turn for the worst. He just couldn’t live without you. He started to go to alcohol for comfort, missing school and his temper rising even more, taking it out on Max. He was a mess. It was either feeling guilty over what happened with you or getting abused. There was no happiness for Billy.

Billy had woken up with a hangover. Throwing up in the toilet. He was done with this life. Then the doorbell rang. Billy thought it was another one of Max’s loser friends so he called out to her. There was no answer. “Max! I said get the God da*n door!” There was still no answer. Billy walked over the door, cursing to himself as the room started to spin. As he opened the door he was greeted with your face. You stood there, smiling, a cane in your hand as you leaned on if for support. Billy opened his mouth wide in shock, thinking he was dreaming as he sometimes had dreams or feelings that he saw his mother sometimes.

“Is that really you y/n?”

You nodded and jumped onto him for a hug. You gently caressed his curls. “Its me Billy. Its really me.”

“Wait,” he backed away from you. “No this isn’t right. You hate me! You’re supposed to hate me! I hurt you. I did this all to you. I’m, I’m a monster!” He started to cry as his lips trembled.

You shook your head, “no, no Billy. Its okay,” you cradled him in your arms. “I’m fine now. I feel better.” You looked into his eyes. “Look at me, you are not a monster. I don’t hate you Billy, I could never. I forgive you for what happened but there was nothing to forgive in the first place. I love you Billy. With every fiber in my body I love you. I could never be apart from you. I know about all the things you did in the hospital. All the things you said, the gifts, Billy that wasn’t hate that was love. You did all that because you love me. What we both did was wrong that day. We should of never drank and speed, but its in the past know, we learn from our mistakes. I’m not like your parents or anybody else in your life that leaves you. I’m staying put right beside you forever. You can never get rid of me.”

Billy felt speechless in that moment. How did he get so lucky to be with you? What did he do to deserve such an angel as yourself? Billy embraced you again, “I love you so much y/n. I love you so much.” He kept repeating. You placed your hands on his jaw and kissed his lips lovingly. Billy was so grateful to have you in his life. Even though his life with his dad was not easy he had you to lean on. He had you to make him smile and laugh. He had you to keep him going and to remind him to never give up.

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thedistantstorm · 5 years ago

Text

Keep On Rising (Until The Sky Knows Your Name) 09

A story about how an orphaned Amanda Holliday comes to belong in the Last Safe City and the family she finds along the way.

(Or, the story of how Commander Zavala finds himself responsible for one Amanda Holliday.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

This time: Wants and needs and waking up.

The Speaker chooses his words carefully, thus they sit in a momentary silence before he begins. The ambient noise of the room - puffs of air from the nasal cannula that helps her get enough oxygen, monitors that check blood pressure, gentle beeps of the monitors, the idle drip of medication into IV lines all blend together in a strange symphony. Zavala does not find it anything but anxiety inducing, though he keeps still and does not act in a way that would readily flag him as such.

Not that it matters, the Speaker knows him well. “I would presume,” He says, slow and quiet, mindful of the child sleeping in the bed an arm’s length away, “That you have spoken to your Ghost about this?”

“Shiori has made her opinions known,” Zavala admits, after a moment’s thought. Likely, also that he’s spoken to said partner, through the link that Guardians share with their Ghosts.

He hums in reply, leaning back in a gesture that isn’t quite relaxed, but appears more casual than official. “And your opinions do not line up?”

Amanda stirs beside them, a frown cutting through her features, but shifts and resettles without waking. Zavala sighs in relief, having been immediately distracted by it. “Wants and needs are two different things," He offers, instead of answering the question.

"Yes," The other man agrees. "Unless your want and her need aligns."

"It does not. My lifestyle is not conducive to raising a child, regardless of whether I would consider it or not," Zavala replies.

"And yet you're here," The Speaker answers. Though his expression is covered by a mask, the inflection of his voice gives away his feelings on the matter. He tips his head to the left, evaluating.

"She calls for me when she wakes," He tells the Speaker, just as he had Ikora, but it feels inadequate as a defense. Flimsy.

"Could the matron not fulfill her needs?" He asks gently, yet there's something blunt in his tone. "She could sit with the girl."

"Yes," Zavala agrees morosely, "I just-"

"But the matron cannot console the girl when she's in the throws of panic, certainly not when she's altered by medication and plagued by fever dreams. The trust is not intrinsic, subconscious." The Speaker crosses his arms. "Nor can she give the girl favor, even if she wanted to. She has other duties, other children she is responsible for."

The child whines in her sleep from discomfort, and as if to prove his point, Zavala is at her side, gently adjusting the sheets tangled around her lower half, mindful of her injuries.

"I want to help her," The Commander admits, wistfully, looking down at the girl’s face.

Circling back, the Speaker reminds him, "And being at her bedside when she wakes, then withdrawing will help her how? The child trusts you. It would crush her."

"Then what do I do? I could not possibly forsake my duties."

"You could do both." Zavala stares, slack-jawed at the other man's masked face. "She will need therapies and treatments… A hospital stay like this requires rehabilitation, according to the matron. It will be months at least."

"It's impossible. There is no way I could take care of a child."

The Speaker ignores him. "Plenty of time to get your affairs in order, and this would not be easy, certainly not. This one hasn't hit her teenage years, and from what I've been told by others, it is rather taxing."

"I can't do this on my own," Zavala hedges. "There is no way. The Vanguard, my Titans, I-"

"Think, Zavala." The Speaker's voice cuts through his argument, firm and blunt, yet not unkind. "I never said you should raise her on your own." He rises. "I’m merely suggesting you consider that it may not be as impossible as you think." As he passes the Titan Vanguard, he squeezes his shoulder in a show of support, speaking softer. "A reminder of why we do what we do would not be remiss around here."

The Speaker leaves. Once alone, Zavala brings the chair he'd been sitting in to rest almost against the bed. Silently, he evaluates her: the wrinkle of her brow and nose while she sleeps, the way her fingers curls over the blankets before she pulls them against her chest.

"He's right, you know."

"He always is," Zavala answers, watching his Ghost shimmer into being on the other side of the room.

She sighs. "You really want this, though."

"Yes," He admits, after a time.

"So we ask for help. Like he said, they don't plan on releasing her any time soon."

"Shiori-"

His Ghost continues, speaking over him in that soothing mezzo-soprano of hers. "She hasn't been awake for more than twenty minutes and even that was debatable." Her white shell orbits her core slowly. "I don't think it's wrong to be happy, Zavala. And I don't think you're going to blow off your responsibilities to everyone and everything else because of her."

"But is it fair to her?"

That gives her pause. "Well, I would suspect she'd agree."

"That is not the question. She's a child. I have doubt that she knows what is best for herself."

"Well-"

He frowns. "She's been harmed because our efforts to keep the City safe failed her. I cannot tell if I feel guilty of if it's just that I somehow feel a connection-"

"You're doing it again, always overthinking," She tuts. "Listen to me, Zavala. You wanted to take Amanda home with us the first time we met her. You were beside yourself that you upset her." She drifts closer. "And when she came around, you spent an entire visit holding onto her. I teased you about it for a week. You remember what Karena called her?"

Zavala closes his eyes. Shiori takes it as a yes.

"You were furious with me when I told you we should at least consider taking her. You gave me every reason I'm sure you're thinking of now. But you forget: I know you, Guardian. I know you're going to make the right choice. You always do."

Scrubbing a hand down the side of his face, he regards his partner warily. "That transparent, am I?"

Shiori bumps his hand away from his face. "No. You just don't do things in half measures," She says fondly, her single eye meeting both of his. "You never have."

“I just want to be sure,” He says in reply. “I need some time.”

Amanda wakes when midnight and morning bleed into each other. Unlike other times, the muzzy fading feeling seems to burn off, leaving her licking her chapped lips and squirming. She feels uncomfortable. Something isn't right.

The only sound in the room is a not unpleasant timed click, an easy shuffle, and the muted sound of a monitor. She exhales long and loud, taking stock. Only three extremities respond to her. The fourth tingles in an angry buzz of pain and numbness. Trying to move it makes her whimper, the conscious thought put into moving her knee ends in a furious confusion of synapses that don't have anywhere to go.

With her muffled cry, the cadence of clack-shuffling stops. She takes a few more breaths, forcing them to stay even, her eyelashes beating against her cheeks as she tries to make sense of the strange new feelings she’s confronted with.

Instead of speaking, he watches as her stormy eyes open and clear, adjusting to the fluorescent lighting. She looks down and bites her lip, but does not make any more noise. Her eyes water but she doesn’t make any more sound, other than the tiny groan of adjusting herself. She’s already propped up between pillows and the angle of the hospital bed.

She almost topples over reaching for her bad leg, but her left arm manages to keep her upright while she regards the lumpy bed linens. It hurts, but she flips back one end of the covers to see what her leg looks like and immediately flinches back.

It’s a large bandage that starts almost where her leg meets her trunk, but it goes down to just short of where her knee should be - and stops. She closes her eyes, squeezing them shut and then braves another look. On the second inspection, she notes that there’s blood leaking through the dressings, faded and iron-brown. No knee. No foot. Gone.

The hand that touches her head makes her freeze, and only then does she realize Zavala’s watching her evaluate herself. She looks to him with something like panic twisted by despair.

"'m not dreaming, am I?" She asks softly.

The edge of the bed dips as he sits, perched on the edge facing toward her. "No," He answers.

She closes her eyes and leans back against the pillows. "E'ryone else's okay?"

"They are," He answers. "Do-" His voice catches on the prospect that perhaps she'd rather be consoled by her foster family, though they'd withdrawn rather easily - too easily, Karen's said, though she'd never been planning to allow Amanda to return to them. His stomach lurches at the thought that her calls for him were simply hallucinations, that maybe he has this completely wrong. "Do you want to see them?"

There is no hesitation in her reply. She shakes her head in the negative. "It had me by this leg," She points to the wrapped stump. "Did you get it?"

"The Guardian who found you killed it. It won't hurt you or anyone else."

"But you said they go through you." She doesn't look at him, still eyeing the bulge of gauze.

"I am the Commander. The Guardians answer to me." He sighs, trying to explain it in a way she’ll understand. "I was in command all night, making sure everyone that was in trouble was seen to." Selfish as it may be, he’s grateful he didn’t know. It would have ate away at him all night while he was trying to organize relief efforts, the way it had while he had sat with the matron what felt like the longest day he’d had in years.

"I thought it was you," She admits. "They - It was like lightnin' but… Th'same blue as yer eyes," She drawls.

They sit quietly for a few moments.

Her resolve crumbles with a mumble of, "I really wanted t’see you." She reaches for him and he obliges, letting her press her face into his chest, feeling her lip curl and her shoulders shake through his sweater as she cries. It’s muffled against his sweater, but he hears her confessions. The fear of what she’d surely though was her death. That she should have tried harder to make them believe her, that she knew and it was all her fault.

That she didn’t want to die without seeing him again.

It felt like he’d never be able to walk out of the room. Part of that might have been the tiny fingers that threaded through his own with a surprising strength, but… There was more to it than that. It was like his bond with Ghost but not quite, a natural connection so wholly different from any he’d forged before and it was plain and obvious, terrifying and yet comforting all at once.

The morning comes too soon, and with it, the realization that he would have to leave. She seemed to know it too, her tiny grip growing exponentially.

“I’ll be okay,” She tells him, her voice faint against his side. Her fingers twitch and pull away from him. He doesn’t miss the way they wrap around herself as he rises. “It’s fine.”

He’s never been more certain that it is anything but. “Karena will come sit with you, or one of the houseparents,” He says. “Someone you know.”

“Would-” She squeezes her eyes shut, as if looking at him - seeing the truth on his face - would upset her. “Would you come back sometime?” She asks meekly.

It’s only after he rises, patting her head, that she sees the folded blanket in progress - a shade of red far brighter than the one she’d left behind at the Baumsol’s. He removes it carefully from the chair at her bedside and opens one of the drawers in the small half-dresser beside her bed, tucking it and the rest of his knitting supplies inside.

He smiles at her, she knows it not because of his lips - those are set in a firm line. His eyes spark, almost. Bright and good and true. “I’ll come back as soon as I am able,” He tells her. “You have my word.”

#destiny fanfiction #shipwright september #amanda holliday #commander zavala #the speaker #destiny #destiny stories #fluff and feels

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first-of-her-nxme · 4 years ago

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Where is the coherent foreshadowing for Jaqen and Arya? It all seems taken out of fucking nowhere

So, from the top:

Thanks to the Game of Thrones finale we know that Arya will sail across the sunset sea. I searched through the books after s8 and of course I found information that they bothe, J&A, will leave. I guess I need to thank D&D for Arya’s ending, otherwise I would have overlooked the clues completely.

6. Arya ruins Sansa’s silk dress and offers to make her a new one. Sansa tells her she could make a dress good enough only to clean the pigsty.

That pigsty is kind of a big deal.

In fairytales, princes disguise themselves as swineherds to hide their true identity, like in H.C Andersen’s story “The Swineherd”.

7. In Harrenhal, Jaqen wakes Arya from her wolf dream and kisses her. This motif comes from the Sleeping Beauty fairytale - only the prince can awake the sleeping beauty.

The cooking pot is another motif borrowed from “The Swineherd” - the prince has a magic pot that plays a song. Jaqen ( Aegon ) has a song too, a song of Ice and Fire.

10. When Arya meets the Ghost of High Heart, the witch compares her to Jenny, a girl with flowers in her hair who fell in love with a Targaryen prince.

Of course Rhaegar didn’t know about his son and Lya’s niece when he wrote the song:))

15. “Mercy” chapter parallels the prologue to A Feast for Crows. Originally it was meant to be in AFFC but GRRM eventually moved it to TWOW.

But those two chapters are so rich in parallels that they deserve a separate post as well:)

As you can see it’s a pretty massive foreshadowing. I probably still omitted something because there are really tons of those clues.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the read.

Thanks for the ask :)

#Arya Stark #Jaqen H'ghar #jaqen h'ghar is aegon targaryen #asoiaf #arya x jaqen #jaqen x arya #jaqarya #George R.R. Martin #Rhaegar Targaryen #Lyanna Stark #elia martell #aegon targaryen #asoiaf meta

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bakugous-abs · 6 years ago

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Could you please do headcannons for iida, todoroki, izuku, and bakugou (if thats too many i understand) with a trans SO (ftm) who has to deal with getting misgendered most places (including home often)? Like, they help out and stuff with mental health and whatnot. Ive been havin some pretty bad dysphoria lately, and ots making my depression worse. Bonus points for kisses and cuddles. Thank you so much for your time

AH!! I’m kind of nervous since this is my first request, but I hope I did okay!

~Admin Peaches

TENYA IIDA:

- First of all, he always corrects pronouns and names. If someone calls you she/her, he’s RIGHT THERE to correct it for you if you can’t do it yourself.

- And don’t worry, he’ll stand up for you if they turn out to be transphobic. If need be, he’s even willing to be a human shield for you!

- He doesn’t fully understand at first, though, so it’ll take a little explaining, but once he realizes what dysphoria is and that you’re dealing with it, he’s hurt! You don’t deserve to feel like that!

- Gosh, he feels so bad that he can’t make your parents respect pronouns (or change their mind if they’re transphobic) to comfort you and make you feel better about your identity.

- But there’s one good thing about this though. If you ever need someone to fall back on, he’s waiting for you with open arms!

- As for mental health, he knows how awful depression is. He’s helped friends and those around him with it, and he hates that he can’t whisk your problems away like he can run, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try.

- On your bad days, he’ll give you something of his to wear that’s baggy enough to cover your chest, make sure you’re binding safely, and he’ll take you out if you want to go. You two will go shopping, get food and drinks, anything you want. He’ll do it for you.

- But if you’d rather stay in on a bad day, he’ll take care of you. Bad horror movies? Hell yeah. Comfort food and video games? Absolutely. YouTube videos? Not a problem. Movies he’s never heard of but that you love? Without a fucking doubt.

- And his hugs are perfect, too. He’ll wrap you up in one, holding you tight against his chest and running his fingers through your hair/over your head, rocking you side to side slowly.

- Watching a movie or something, though, he’ll let you sit between his legs and lean on his chest while he wraps his arms around your middle and rests his chin on your shoulder/head, kissing your temple and cheeks.

- Of course, verbal reassurances and support is common with him too.

- “You’re a wonderful boyfriend, (s/o). I’m sorry not everyone can respect you, but I always will. I promise.”

SHOTO TODOROKI:

- He understands the thing about being disrespected at home, and he hates it.

- So he’s gonna make up for it as much as he can. As soon as he found out you were trans he told Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. It made for a pretty nice surprise when they suddenly switched to your preferred pronouns!

- In his words, “If you aren’t respected at home, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re respected here, okay?”

- You wanna know what he hates more than almost anything though? You being misgendered. Especially when it’s on purpose.

- “Uh, excuse me. He prefers masculine pronouns.”

- He’s very soft spoken and gentle about corrections, but as soon as someone blows up on you, he’s in their way, defending you and even willing to raise his voice.

- Remember, he has siblings. It’s instinct for him to protect others, and you’re his highest priority.

- “(S/o)? Are you… having a bad dysphoria day? Parents again?”

- He’s hesitant about asking and comfort, since he isn’t the keenest with interaction. But after a while, he knows how to pick up on when your dysphoria is bad.

- Or depression for that matter, but either way he’s always careful to ask and check what you want to do.

- Normally, he suggests that you two just curl up in bed together and watch YouTube until you feel better or are up to talking.

- For cuddling, he’s pretty hesitant but over time figures out what to do.

- He’ll hold you to his side or in his lap with his arms around you, hands resting on your hips or sides gently, sometimes tracing his fingers over your arms and watching your face fondly as you react to the video or movie you’re watching.

- Sometimes, he just sits there and runs his hands over you. Down your arms, over your cheeks, runs his knuckles over the sides of your neck and tucking hair behind your ear. Over your sides, the tops of your thighs.

- “You’re so handsome, (s/o). I love you.”

- He’s always shy when he speaks like that, but the way he smiles at you, so soft before suddenly tackling you to kiss over your face with a little laugh at your squeals a giggles, makes up for that shyness pretty quick.

- Hey, you wanna know a secret? He loves your body how it is. Of course, gain or lose weight, he won’t mind. Chest surgery? Fuck yeah, he’s so happy for you! But the thing is that he loves you for your personality. Not for your appearance. So just be yourself around him, he didn’t fall in love with you for nothing.

IZUKU MIDORIYA

- “Midoriya Izuku, right?! From U.A.! Ooh, is that your girlfriend?”

- “Huh- oh! No, ah- that- that’s my boyfriend!”

- He’s so proud of you being openly trans. SO PROUD.

- Of course he’s upset that you get misgendered a lot, and that your parents can’t seem to understand that they have a son not a dauGHTER-

- Either way, though, he isn’t there for nothing, and he’ll do anything to make you feel better.

- Bad All Might impression? Done. High pitched ‘uwaAA!!’ scream? If it’ll make you laugh, so be it. Bakugou impression? Oh, gladly. And he doesn’t mind even doing some sort of charades or whatever. Anything to make you laugh.

- Very verbal. He’ll ramble about how much he loves you and how wonderful you are.

- He doesn’t quite understand depression or dysphoria at first but once he does, be prepared for a TON of kisses and cuddles.

- Listen. Midoriya is shy, but he loses aLL of that to comfort you, and will tackle you in a hug and pepper your face in kisses and cheer and squeal about how much he loves you.

- Bad days with him are actually pretty chill, though. He’ll wrap his arm around your shoulders and lean on you while you watch Disney movies and yell along to the lyrics and mimic the voices and everything!

- He’s gonna cry at all the deaths, but shut up.

- As soon as he finds out about your parents not being supportive, though, he’s about to get All Might and have him fucking adopt you.

- Honestly, he’d do anything and everything he could to make you happy and see you smile, see your eyes light up and mouth stretch into that smile he so loves.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU:

- He gets pretty upset when you’re misgendered. And though, he has to admit, he isn’t ever surprised, it still makes him upset.

- “Oi! It’s he, not she!”

- I’m not saying Kirishima’s had to hold Bakugou back from getting into fights to defend you from transphobes but that’s exactly what he’s had to do before.

- He’s FURIOUS that your parents don’t support you.

- “The hell do you mean they don’t fuckin’ support you?!”

- He knows he can’t change it or do anything about the fact that your parents don’t support you, which is really quite frustrating for him, but he tries his best to keep calm about it.

- He fails that one. Like… a lot. Whenever he’s angry and ranting to you, somehow he always ends up complaining about how shitty your parents are and how much he hates them.

- Bakugou just wants your parents to love and support you goddamnit.

- He’s hesitant about helping with your depression and dysphoria. The first few times, he probably pushed you away since he didn’t know what to do.

- It’s Bakugou. Don’t take it personally. But you probably did, huh?

- That’s okay. He’ll make it up to you as soon as he finds out. And trust me, he will find out.

- Once he understands what you’re going through, though, he becomes a little more affectionate. He’s more willing to hold your hand in public, hug you and kiss your cheeks.

- He becomes more protective, too, and doesn’t hesitate to use himself as a human shield to defend you from transphobes and bullies.

- “Back up, extra! You leave my fucking boyfriend ALONE!”

- …much more protective. He’d probably literally kill for you honestly.

- As soon as he finds out about your depression, though, his biggest fear switches from not being good enough to losing you faster than he could set off his explosions when he’s annoyed with Midoriya during the summer.

- If you’re having a bad day, he’ll even be willing to let you pull him out of spars or training to comfort you and help you feel better.

- “Huh? No. You aren’t bothering me. What do you mean by that, (s/o)? You probably couldn’t fucking bother me even if you tried.”

- He’s the protective cuddler. He won’t hesitate to wrap his body around you and hold you against him, bury his face against your temple and close his eyes.

- He’d rather be caught dead than cuddling you, but he makes an exception for your bad days.

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