#now matter who you are if you are a twin you cannot escaped twin mind meld

[always-a-joyful-note]

Can you imagine the power the twins would have wielded if they had stayed together through puberty?

[willowed-wisp]

HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part eight

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Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, descriptions of childbirth, mentions child loss, suggestive themes, violence, Criston Cole getting his ass kicked

TEN YEARS LATER…

Elspeth was on a mission, her destination were Alicent’s chambers. Every part of the woman was swollen and she didn’t know whether it were her breasts or beneath her diaphragm that burned. It had been like that very early on in her seventh pregnancy.

Nobody was surprised when she popped out an army, the depravity sounding from their chambers… it wouldn’t take a genius to know she’d become pregnant over and over.

Their eldest, Alyric, was three-and-ten while their youngest, Lyonei, was four.

Knocking on the door… she met a mop of platinum blonde, a strong jaw followed. Her stare lasted mere seconds, turning attention to the open-eyed, mortified sister of hers. “Alicent…” Her head shunned away. Now her focus remained on that of the Rogue Prince- who had been tamed by Laena Velaryon that past decade, “What in the hells did you say?”

“Only the truth, daughter…”

Storming over to him, “I will never be your daughter!” She stared up at him, the same scowl he himself had and the same wickedness- even in High Valyrian. It was returned with a smile.

“The blood of the dragon runs thick…” By the Gods, she would stab him if she got the chance.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s yet to be seen.”

She reminded herself of why she was here- why had he been there in the first place? “What business do you have here?”

“I was asking The Queen if my grandchildren might accompany the princes down to the Dragonpit…”

“Can you stop speaking fucking Valyrian? Prince Daemon, please leave. My sister and I have matters to discuss…” He gave a less than respectful bow. They both seethed. “You are his kin. And it somehow slipped your mind to inform me!” That was their mother in her.

Elspeth's own anger boiled deeper- primal even. Yet she contained that eruption- it wasn't good for the baby. For now. “Father told me well over a decade ago,” that struck a heartstring in the younger, “I didn’t say anything to protect you… you had more than enough on your shoulders.” Elspeth observed the face change. “I was embarrassed.”

“How so?”

“I am a bastard, Alicent. I’ve been trying to escape it… escape him… keep him away from my children,” Rage turned to recoil- for fifteen years she had felt hopeless with the sword over her head, “Please, sister… understand that... I need to protect them…”

It wasn't a scapegoat nor did she cry crocodile tears... she had always been trying to keep her kids safe. It didn’t matter if Alyric was thirteen, he still couldn’t deal with the likes of Daemon Targaryen. Even if his own father was Lord Commander of the City Watch. Luckily for her sanity the prince along with his wife and twin girls were headed to Pentos that next day.

"When you were younger you always looked up to me... what changed?" An ambush down the corridor.

A roll of her eyes, "Could we have this conversation later? Every part of me is swollen, my ribs are like daggers and I cannot be bothered with your manipulation today..." Despite the agony she paced quicker, or so she thought.

"You're just like your mother," Gods, did she wish she was armed.

Continuing forward, "Don't talk about my mother. Not after the pain you caused her."

His hand, with a surprising level of gentleness turned her to face him- the eight month old bump affirmed a comfortable distance. "What did Otto Hightower tell you? That I attacked Alyrie?"

"Didn’t you? Then why am I here with your blood in my veins..."

A sincere, stern look on the man's face- he hesitated in his words, "The times I shared with your mother were of her choice... my decisions may be... questionable, at times... but I’m not heartless." She shoved him away, unsure.

"That's yet to be seen, my prince..." She did the proper action of a curtsy, unable to commit to it fully due to her condition. That confused her even more.

Had her father lied to her all of those years? An entire decade.

She did naturally have a liking for Daemon in an idolisation type of manner, they shared the same temperament; knowing fully well why they did.

The woman needed to see her children, probably in the courtyard…

She shares his majesty’s presence on the balcony- spying if her wayward children and husband were in fact there. “Your Grace,” she curtsied with some labour. It had definitely been the hardest pregnancy- even when her twin boys, Jaimes and Ronin, made home in her stomach. She hoped the bloating would fade when she delivered- not wishing to feel blistered her entire life.

The King- dishevelled due to illness- waved his hand, “No need for such formalities, Elspeth- we are family,” he didn’t know how closely related they truly were.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he motioned for her to take a perch- she smiled up at the Hand of the King, her father-in-law.

Turning her attention down to the courtyard she saw no knight of the name Harwin Strong, only that of Criston Cole. With him, the princes and her own children stood. Listening to every word he said. “I’m going to see if Ser Criston requires assistance with training,” her feet despised her but she stood. Buckling slightly, held firmly by Lyonel.

“Maybe some rest would benefit you, Elspeth,” the man said with caution. “Ser Criston is the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms- he can handle training the children…”

She patted the hand on her shoulder, “Rest is for the dead,” she joked, though she could be in the grave that very next month.

Early on into her pregnancy she was diagnosed with ‘toxic birth disease’. The mortality rate was… devastatingly high, and she informed the Maesters not to divulge to her Lord husband- he worried so…

She would make it through… she had to for the children she made her way down for.

That same courtyard she used to hack training mannequins and Harwin would always catch her. But now she bore witness to her own children- even her own girls alongside their brothers and cousins.

Alyric stood out like a sore thumb, tall and already gaining his father’s ballast. Even his smile was like Harwin’s and his fighting stance. That grin turned into a scowl, and shouting commenced. “Ser Criston, Luke is struggling, if I may-,”

“No little Lord Strong, you may not. Lucerys must learn, as I did from the pommel of a sword or the blade itself,” Elspeth liked neither the condescension nor the tone the knight used. “If you’re a trained warrior, Alyric, spar with me.” He grappled the front of the boy’s shirt, who was able to maintain balance from the brute force.

She staved off intruding- Alyric wouldn’t care for the embarrassment of conceding because of his mother being protective. Like his father, Alyric was formidable in stature and presence but that didn’t provide technique.

Ser Criston presumed he would have the eldest Strong on the floor in one strike but Alyric was a young brute. Until the knight crushed him to the ground, “You’re not the best there has been, boy. Maybe the Lord Commander needs to teach you modesty,”

That was the last straw, “Ser Criston.” The children shivered at that voice- for there was nothing they feared more than the wrath of their mother, “We are finished here for the day children…” voice as soft as silk and as gentle as a feather. They ran along- Gwen ushering the younger ones out.

And she did not care if they had an audience overhead, “I do not take orders from you. You may be of royal birth, but you are still a bastard.” He must have overheard Daemon and Alicent.

“You forget yourself, Cole. Strong words for a common-born concubine.” His hand wrapped her cheek before she could think. Not phased she readied for his raised fist, aiming for her face. But he found the floor thanks to a swiftly negotiated knee to the crotch. Done so with grace and decorum. “A reminder of who my father is. Now stay on your knees… where you rightfully belong,” venom rolled off her tongue. Looking up towards the disapproving faces of the King and Lyonel Strong.

A face far too sweet for the person behind it gave a snide smirk, “You sound just like him,” he paused - studying her every move, “Your mouths move far too much, for what you both are… conniving cunts.” Contemplating whether or not to crouch down, deciding not to; being eight months along.

"You're the one on the floor after hitting a lady who is with babe..." Her shadowed green gaze bore straight into the man's soul, "What a sad little life, Cole... now they all see what a wretch you are."

Elspeth agreed with him. She did sound like Daemon, but at least with the Rogue Prince you knew what to expect.

The unexpected.

Clutching her swelled stomach, she paced to her sister's chambers. Heart pounding, her back felt constricted. Elspeth greeted the guards stationed outside of the door with politeness, stepping into the room- finding those big brown eyes. "Elspeth...?"

"Your 'sworn shield' just hit me... King Viserys and the Lord Hand saw it for themselves…" Elspeth's forehead felt clammy- cheeks reddened.

"Ser Criston... hit you?" The woman didn't know if she nodded in answer to her sister.

Alicent's arm wrapped around her older sister- feeling how hot she was. The unmistakeable coiling in her lower stomach was all too familiar, "Fuck..."

"What is it?" Something felt different, body numb. She could no longer feel or hear Alicent. To her, she was in a forest with her mother's long red hair swaying as they rode deeper into the trees. But in reality her sister screamed for the assistance of Maesters and for the presence of the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.

Curls were the first thing she awoke to followed by bloodshot eyes like the ocean. "My strong knight..." Milk of the poppy, she presumed- reaching her hand to rub his cheek with her thumb. His rigidity solved itself as he welcomed that warmth- not nearly as searing as she had been beforehand. But even under the influence, Elspeth knew her husband- something was direly wrong. "What troubles you?"

Then she remembered snippets. How she rattled the King's quarters with cries to keep her baby safe... "No... we couldn't have lost the baby... Harwin..." Tears wrapped his eyes, shaking his head. The murmurs of child-like giggles in the distance.

"We have a daughter..." But a plague cast over him, until he broke. Normally she was the one cracking like a piece of glass. His name sounded so divine on her lips and her touch a warm reminder that he was alive as was she.

His body rocked the bed with sobs as her arms enveloped his bulking frame. His golden cloak beneath her fingertips, "We're both here. The Stranger will have to make a better attempt..."

"You were dead,” time stopped. She hadn’t been crying, but when Harwin; a man who possessed such redoubt, quivered in his whisper… she couldn’t help it. “The Maesters said that your insides failed you, and by some miracle,” a tear shed, “you are here… by my side. And so is our darling daughter. What shall we name her?”

Her head crashed against the pillow. The look on his face imprinted in her memory- one of joy laboured by disparity, “A miracle… Mirabel… our little Mia,” the innocent face of the girl present- Rhaenyra holding the girl in her arms.

She had been crying, “She may be the cutest button of your brood… what is her name?”

“Mirabel… our Mia…”

Criston Cole was brought to justice. The King was appalled, and the prince was blind with fury. “Ser Criston Cole… you have been a faithful knight to the Crown, but today I witnessed abhorrent actions that are forbidden as a member of the Kingsguard nor of any noble man,” Elspeth watched on alongside her husband, “Before I cast judgement, speak… what do you have to say for yourself?”

Elspeth respected the king, but he was too lenient. “The words of Lady Elspeth are as tainted as her blood, Your Grace…”

“What do you mean? Lady Elspeth is a just, fair woman,”

“She is a bastard, Your Grace, not the daughter of Otto Hightower,” Viserys’ laughed at the man knelt down.

Elspeth was frozen in the crowd of nobility- all eyes on her, “And who may her father be?” The King held genuine amusement to the accusation.

The heavy doors opened, and so entered the Prince Daemon, “She is my kin.”

Ser Criston, no matter how true his claim had been, was exiled to the Wall. While Elspeth became legitimised under the eyes of the King and of the Seven. Though, Viserys was not thrilled- he was glad peace was made with Daemon, who remained in Kings Landing.

Laena passed away giving birth to their third child, killed by dragonfyre- Vhagar. The question of Rhaenyra’s children wasn’t thrown into contention, and they were never to know that the disgraced knight Ser Criston Cole was their father. But Elspeth knew what Jace and Luke were- but she loved them like her own sons. She would protect them with her dying breath.

And she did not break that vow, even against her own sisters. Lylith had always loved animals, held such compassion that she spent her free days compiling a bestiary of the creatures of Westeros. She was unlike Gwen, who loved hunting- alike their mother. The second born daughter had never detailed Vhagar up close.

During the wake of Laena Velaryon, she sought out the she-dragon. They feared she had been eaten, but she arrived returned on green back of the biggest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms. Harwin didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified that his family owned the two largest dragons - except Vermithor - in the Seven Kingdoms.

Peace was quaint in the years following.

Lyonel Strong still remained as the King’s Hand, though, Otto Hightower still plotted his return. Quashed when Viserys died, and Rhaenyra swiftly ascended. “I wish to offer you the post as my Hand…” It was what the pair had always dreamed of.

“The Lords will not abide by that-“

“I am Queen, I am the Head of the Seven Kingdoms and they will follow my commands,” she paused at the apprehension written over Elspeth’s face.

The Princess shook her head, “Lord Lyonel has been a faithful Hand to your father- ,”

“How am I supposed to rule if I cannot fully rely on my Hand? In my absence how can I rely on the judgement of men to carry out my word?” The Queen held the Princess’ hands, “You are my closest friend- ever since you arrived in Kings Landing- before I was born. You have never shown deceit nor malice on my part- even my husband doesn’t have my complete favour… you do…”

“If I say yes will it stop your queenly speech?” Rhaenyra gave a nod. “Then yes, I will be your Hand…”

She was a bloody good one at that, Rhaenyra remained in Kings Landing as she always had.

Ric was a promising young heir to Harrenhal- knighted for his fighting in the second war for the Stepstones. He was a good sword, and betrothed to Rhaena Velaryon for his actions. They suited one another- calm and loyal.

Gwen, unruly like her mother, rode horses not dragons; fearing great heights. She found a love match in the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. He loved her fighting spirit- unlike any Southerner he had met.

Lily rode the biggest dragon in the Known World. Her mother refused a marriage with the Lannisters- who called out for an alliance. Lily found affections with the young Lord Oscar Tully. They had proven to be a youthful yet wise Lord and Lady of Riverrun.

Jaimes found himself separated from his twin, Ronin but Jaime was living his dream under the wing of his uncle Gwayne. Travelling the Seven Kingdoms at the age of six-and-ten, yet to find himself a wife but with his father’s looks and mother’s drive- it’s more so the fact that he isn’t looking.

Ronin had claimed the Bronze Fury at two-and-ten, and has since built a loving bond with Vermithor. He found himself with a crowd of women gawking, his mother’s angelic features and his father’s demeanour. Yet he only had eyes for the brash Alysanne Blackwood, admiring the huntress and sharing liaisons while at Harrenhal. Elspeth warned him to ask for her hand before somebody else demanded it- and he feared no person as much as he feared and loved his mother.

Cullen favoured the pen rather than the sword, becoming a scholar. He toured around the libraries, transcribing every ounce of knowledge he garnered. This took him to the Free Cities- where he encountered a young maiden. Her name was Aliandra, she loved his inquisitive nature and he her fiery attitude. It was only when he ventured to her homeland that he discovered her to be Princess Aliandra Martell, and he was to be her Prince Consort. It aided in relations between the Seventh Kingdom.

Lyonei continued her education in alchemy and prophecy. Still close friends with Princess Helaena, though, at Harrenhal she found the company of Alys Rivers- rumoured to be her aunt- and judiciously followed her expertise. For that time being she had no room for love, neither did her parents force her.

Mia resided at Driftmark, Maesters said she had problems with the heart. But she enjoyed life with her head in books. Rhaenys was more than willing to house the gentle-spoken, petite girl even in her adulthood. She found the sea air aided in her ailments, finding love in a sailor.

Their parents moved to Harrenhal when Ser Lyonel died. Larys lurked in the shadows, not any danger.

The Kingdoms lived in peace. But the pair weren’t alive when the power struggles took place- resulted to ash and bone.

Dying in bed together- both of old bones. Knowing what eternal love felt like, reuniting with Alyrie Florent and those lost along the years.

History would remember the fierceness of Elspeth Hightower- true Targaryen born - married a strong. An issue of seven, rider of Ebrion the Cannibal and the best shot in the Seven Kingdoms.

THE END

___________________________

So this is the last part of the series. I have loved writing this and thank you for the support with it. Thank you to everybody reading ❤️❤️❤️

Series taglist:-

@llynx7 @babyred7 @felicisimor @beebeechaos

[ecofear]

PROPAGANDA UNDERCUT!!!!

also i will be continuing murderbot dairies no matter what so it's not on here :3c

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i have been informed the pilot of the ship is in love with the ships ai and there's wire touching. so. you know

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this series is Strange and every book feels entirely disconnected from the last in terms of desc so i included the first books desc... they ARE connected things just. go crazy i guess...........

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Cyberpunk, War, Dystopia, Fantasy, SciFi, books are 300-350 pages

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seen this get recommended to annihilation fans are bunch...

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ive got NO idea why this has the queer tag on goodreads but if these 2 holmes and watson likes end up being faggots together i am HERE i need to be HERE

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Not all secrets are meant to be found. If Indiana Jones lived in the X-Files era, he might bear at least a passing resemblance to Nolan Moore -- a rogue archaeologist hosting a documentary series derisively dismissed by the "real" experts, but beloved of conspiracy theorists. Nolan sets out to retrace the steps of an explorer from 1909 who claimed to have discovered a mysterious cavern high up in the ancient rock of the Grand Canyon. And, for once, he may have actually found what he seeks. Then the trip takes a nasty turn, and the cave begins turning against them in mysterious ways. Nolan's story becomes one of survival against seemingly impossible odds. The only way out is to answer a series of intriguing questions: What is this strange cave? How has it remained hidden for so long? And what secret does it conceal that made its last visitors attempt to seal it forever?

Cosy Mystery, Fantasy, SciFi, LGBT, both books are around 120 pages

Centuries before, robots of Panga gained self-awareness, laid down their tools, wandered, en masse into the wilderness, never to be seen again. They faded into myth and urban legend.Now the life of the tea monk who tells this story is upended by the arrival of a robot, there to honor the old promise of checking in. The robot cannot go back until the question of "what do people need?" is answered. But the answer to that question depends on who you ask, and how. They will need to ask it a lot. Chambers' series asks: in a world where people have what they want, does having more matter?

Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Espionage, Spy, books average to around 300 pages but there's.. a lot of books..... i have 9 books and 1 novella in this series

John le Carré classic novels deftly navigate readers through the intricate shadow worlds of international espionage with unsurpassed skill and knowledge, and have earned him -- and his hero, British Secret Service Agent George Smiley, who is introduced in this, his first novel -- unprecedented worldwide acclaim. George Smiley had liked Samuel Fennan, and now Fennan was dead from an apparent suicide. But why? Fennan, a Foreign Office man, had been under investigation for alleged Communist Party activities, but Smiley had made it clear that the investigation -- little more than a routine security check -- was over and that the file on Fennan could be closed. The very next day, Fennan was found dead with a note by his body saying his career was finished and he couldn't go on. Smiley was puzzled...

jeff vandermeer said le carré's work inspired authority which is my favourite book of all time . so. i'm interested

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ive been told theres evolved jumping spiders in this and like. im here for that. my god am i here for that

Weird Fiction, Post Apocalyptic, Dystopia, Fantasy, SciFi, books are 200-300 pages

In a ruined, nameless city of the future, a woman named Rachel, who makes her living as a scavenger, finds a creature she names “Borne” entangled in the fur of Mord, a gigantic, despotic bear. Mord once prowled the corridors of the biotech organization known as the Company, which lies at the outskirts of the city, until he was experimented on, grew large, learned to fly and broke free. Driven insane by his torture at the Company, Mord terrorizes the city even as he provides sustenance for scavengers like Rachel.

jeff vandermeeeerrr..... also i love how he has a book called strange bird and a character called ghost bird in southern reach....

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[loveinwisteria]

ROOSTER VS THE GPCU (Glenn Powell Cinematic Universe)

Y'all know about doppelgangers? YEA ANYWAY- post break up Hangster ; everything ended in tears frustration and misunderstandings (as all Hangster break ups). SO heartbroken and in denial Rooster goes to a club far far away from base to get his hoe era post break up drunk on , get absolutely fuckin BLACK OUT DRUNK , wakes up the in the morning next to badabing badaboom JAKE??? even tho he's pretty sure they Definitely broke up (horribly might I add) . Man(Jake???) wakes up and asks him why he keeps calling him Jake when he explicitly said his name was Tyler (yes the tornado wrangler).

And so from there on starts the journey of Rooster bedding every single Glenn Powell character. From Tyler Owens to Gary Johnson to Ben (Anyone but you) to Gary Johnson Again but as Ron™ etc etc. (side not the question of whether Rooster fucks or get fucked belies on which character he's with)

So post mission , Hangster is finally reconciliating and almost there on getting back together. A night out at the hard brings it ALLLL together, the daggers are just chilling about and Hangster is hanging by the pool table being insufferably in love and flirting. HERE COMES IN TYLER MF-IN OWENS. The first person to notice is Maverick who just yells out in confusion "JAKE?!?" . Tyler being the gentlemen and flirt he is comes up to the Very Hot Man (DILF fr) and says "The name's Tyler Owens, sweetheart. Though being called Jake does bring memories of a certain someone" cue Rooster practically DIES in his seat curling around Jake who is equally in shock cuz there is a DOPPELGANGER OF HIMSELF RIGHT HERE IN THE HARD DECK! and then comes in the rest of the GPCU characters. Once the chaos subsides everyone on the squad proceeds to absolutely ROAST Rooster. poor man can't catch a break, his long time lover is here with him and everything is now all find and dandy with everyone surviving the mission yet here comes his past mistakes (tho they were Really good mistakes if you get it) getting absolutely bullied by everyone. It's not HIS fault he's still pining and yearning for Jake even broken up that he went and bedded his doppelgangers.

That man is just so irrevocably in love with Jake Seresin that no matter what he cannot escape no matter how many years it passed by and how many men he's fucked or been fucked by. The absolute yearning for that cocky arrogant handsome and mind blowingly gentle man he fell in love with causing him to just go out and bed people that seriously could all be twins and/or related to each other (they're not none of them are, they're all just doppelgangers)

And yes Maverick and Tyler do get together. I just think it's funny to make Bradley'a practically-second-father get with his post-break up-fling-that-seriously-looks-like-his-ex. Plus I think Pete will enjoy the chaos and adrenaline that comes with being an absolutely batshit insane tornado chaser

[iydiamartinx]

FLAMES OF STARLIGHT

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

Pairing: Poly!Azriel x OC x Lucien

❝ 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘥

𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴. ❞

— 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐨 

VALDA BEGAN TO walk away from her sisters, but she only got a few steps when a middle-aged woman stepped in her path. She had a kind, if not whimsical, looking smile.

"How about a reading, girl? It'll only cost you a copper." A foreign accent coated the woman's words, different from the heavy, gruff one that the mercenary had. This one was softer, lilting.

"Thank you, but I'm alright," Val said, giving the woman a polite yet reserved smile. Charlatans like her were everywhere, giving out false prophecies to those who were stupid enough to believe it for some coin.

"Oh, come now, you're not even a little curious for a glimpse of your future? I may see a handsome lover lurking about somewhere for you." The woman's tone was teasing, but Val felt her mood instantly darken.

"As I said, I'm alright," She replied, this time much firmer.

When she made a move to walk away, the charlatan grabbed her arm. The grip had been intended to be gentle, but the second she touched Val, she let out a sharp gasp. The charlatan's eyes went distant, and her hand tightened almost painfully so. Val tried to pull back, but the woman's fingers held on surprisingly tight.

"You have death in your future, girl." Gone was the youthful voice and replaced with an older and raspier one.

Val stiffened.

"You cannot escape him. The black fires of darkness will consume you. You have been marked."

A cold breeze swept past them and the charlatan blinked and noted the look on Val's face, and her own face paled. "I...I'm sorry, this reading is for no charge."

There wasn't even any time to reply as the woman hurried into the moving crowd. For a moment, Val just stood there, unsure of how to feel or react. Feeling a heavy gaze on her back, she glanced back to see Nesta standing there. Her twin's eyes were heavy and troubled. Val knew her face must've been the same, and she forced herself to give Nesta a reassuring smile, shaking her head slightly as if to say she had no idea what that was about before walking off.

Instead of going straight back to their cottage, Val wandered through the woods. The words of the charlatan weighed heavily on her mind. She told herself it was nothing, but no matter what she did, her thoughts always circled back to her words.

She took the mercenary's warning and avoided going as deep as Feyre said she had when she found that wolf—not that Val planned to go that deep anyway. The route she took was one she knew by heart, and each step had it beating faster and feeling as if it was growing heavier. Step by step, she forced herself to take until she reached a small clearing, where a large tree rested.

Winter had left the tree barren, but the recent snowfall had been caught on the branches giving the illusion that the tree had grown white leaves. As stunning as the sight was, its true beauty laid within the spring. That's when vibrant flowers of blues and purple grew, hanging down much like the leaves of a willow. A wisteria. That's what the tree was called and it was an utterly breathtaking sight to behold if it weren't for the dark memories she had left buried here.

She ignored the ache in her bones as she began taking small, slow steps towards the large trunk. She stopped only a few feet away, and her hand came up to close around the chain at her neck.

"I told myself that I wouldn't come back here the last time I was here, and I said the same thing the time before that," A wry smile appeared on her face for a split second, "and the time before that." That smile disappeared, and tears gathered in her eyes, "Every single time I'm here, I feel as though my heart is ripped out all over again. It's almost funny that I should come here after that charlatan's words. She told me death was in my future, but the truth is, death has been with me ever since it claimed your soul." Silently the tears broke free and slipped down her face, "I...I sometimes wonder if I should've died with you that day. The pain in my body is nothing compared to the pain in my heart."

I miss you. Her throat had tightened to the point where she couldn't speak, and it took all the strength inside of her not to break down sobbing. I miss you so damned much.

Val didn't know how long she stayed at the wisteria but eventually, the cold became too much, and the light blue sky painted itself over with orange and deep violet hues. She didn't want to, but Val forced herself to leave. Each step felt like she was leaving a piece of her heart behind, but she pushed her grief down.

The last time she let it take over, little Feyre had gone into these woods alone because their family had begun to starve. Val couldn't let that happen again. Her family needed her.

The trek from the wisteria to the cottage didn't take too long, and after fifteen minutes, she saw the dim light of their run-down shack illuminating just past the trees. The second she walked through the door, Nesta all but pounced on her.

"Where have you been?" She hissed when she saw Val.

Despite the harsh tone, Val could hear the undercurrents of relief. A flicker of guilt bubbled inside Val as she realized she had worried her sisters.

"I lost track of time," Val replied simply as she calmly took off her boots and cloak.

The whole time Nesta's sharp eyes studied Val's face for what Val wasn't sure. She just passed it off as Nesta being Nesta. Val slipped by her sister to go further into their home, but as she did, she gently squeezed her sister's arm, a silent apology.

Elain didn't bother to say anything as Val passed, and Val returned the sentiment. Feyre, on the other hand, had quietly scolded her for staying out so late, much to Val's guilt and amusement.

Feyre had already nearly finished cooking, so there wasn't much for Val to help out with, but she assured her sister she would do the dishes— much to Feyre's protests.

Dinner was a quiet affair, and after, Nesta went out to chop some more wood. Val had offered to help, but Nesta just snapped at her to rest before stalking out. She returned in less than an hour and silently joined everyone where they were gathered around the fire.

Val had taken one of the romance novels she and Nesta shared and was reading contently, snuggling further into the thin blanket draped over her shoulders. Feyre leaned against her, lost in thought as she silently stared into the flames. Nesta and Elain, on the other hand, quietly whispered and laughed together about the town's latest gossip. Those two had spent all the copper Val had given them—on what she didn't know, nor did she ask.

Even their father sat with them, quietly carving a small piece of wood. It was a rare moment of peace and contentment between the Archerons, but that was all shattered at the sound of a loud roar.

Feyre and Val instantly jumped up while Nesta and Elain screamed as snow suddenly burst into the room, and a monstrous shape appeared in the doorway.

The first few moments were a blur, Val had pushed her sisters protectively behind her, and the knife she had kept beside her was firmly in her grip as she assessed the beast with a hunter's eye. Feyre also held a knife in her hands, but Val knew that even between the two of them, the odds of killing the beast were slim to none.

Golden fur covered the beast's body. Through the fur on his paws, Val caught sight of razor-sharp black claws so sharp that even the slightest movement scratched their rotted wood flooring. He was large, almost as big as a horse, but its body was almost feline. His head, however, had lupine qualities yet elk-like horns protruded from its head. The beast pulled back its lips revealing sharp yellow fangs. There was no mistaking that this beast was a Fae. Creatures like him only existed beyond the wall.

"Murderers!" The beast roared once more, its hackles rising as he stared down Val and her family.

"P-please," Her father stammered, and despite the situation, Val couldn't help but feel the slightest amount of surprise at the fact her father had even bothered to speak. Still, he didn't find the courage to stop cowering behind her and Feyre as he said to the beast. "Whatever we have done, we did so unknowingly, and—"

"W-w-we didn't kill anyone." Val's lip curled back, almost mimicking the beast as she heard Nesta choke out the words between sobs.

"Get out!" Feyre snapped. While they spoke, Val sneakily grabbed a dinner knife off the table, it wasn't as sharp as the hunting knife in her other hand, but nonetheless, it was another weapon. "Get out, and begone."

At Feyre's words, the beast let out a loud growl, shaking the entire cottage, but in doing so, he left his neck open, and Val didn't hesitate as she hurled the dinner knife at him.

Quicker than she thought possible, he swiped out his paw, deflecting the blade as he snapped his teeth at them in warning.

Feyre stumbled back in fear, but Val just snapped her teeth back. She still had one more knife. She knew what she was doing was both highly stupid, not to mention dangerous, but Val needed the beast's attention on her. If he thought she was the bigger predator, then maybe she could give her sisters a chance to run for it.

"Who killed him?!" The creature stalked towards them, setting a heavy paw on the rickety table, causing it to groan.

Feyre took a step forward, but Val quickly matched it, shielding her.

"Killed who?" Val questioned coldly.

He let out a low growl. "The wolf," he snapped. From behind her, Val felt Feyre still. Val refrained from closing her eyes and sighing at the realization that wolf pelt had indeed been Fae. The beast watched her closely, and Val did her best to keep her face blank.

Elain's wail turned into a shriek. Their home had turned so cold that Val had to grit her teeth and fight to maintain her composure as she refrained from shivering and showing the pain she was in. The ache she usually felt had worsened because of the cold, turning into a consistent throb. Her bones felt like glass.

"A wolf?" She hummed, acting clueless.

"A large wolf with a gray coat," He snarled, and Val unconsciously echoed his actions, tensing up.

"If..." Feyre spoke up, stepping out from behind Val, despite her protests. "it was mistakenly killed, what payment could we offer in exchange?"

The beast let out a bark that almost sounded like a bitter laugh. He shifted from the table to pace before the shattered front door. "The payment you must offer is the one demanded by the Treaty between our realms."

Val's blood ran cold, and it wasn't because of the outside. The voice of her governess reading the treaty came back to her, like an echo of her past, a life for a life.

"For a wolf?" Feyre scoffed. Except it was no mere wolf. Their father whispered Feyre's name sharply in warning, and Nesta and Elain let out another whimper. 

The beast whirled back to look at them, "Who killed the wolf?"

"I did."

Val stared down the wolf unflinchingly, and his eyes narrowed, studying. The intelligence in his eyes and the way they scanned her body made it feel as if he could sense the pain she was in.

"You dare lie to me!" He growled. 

"She lies to protect me," Feyre was quick to reveal, rolling her shoulders back as she prepared to accept her fate, "It was me. I killed the wolf."

Feyre wouldn't let Valda take the fall, not because of the promise she made to her mother but because her sister had sacrificed so much for her. This was her fault, and she would accept the consequences.

"Feyre, be quiet!" Val snapped, but Feyre ignored her.

"I sold its hide at the market today," She continued. "If I had known it was a faerie, I wouldn't have touched it."

"Liar!" The beast bellowed. "You knew. You would have been more tempted to slaughter it had you known it was one of my kind."

"Can you blame me?" Feyre questioned.

"Did it attack you? Were you provoked?"

Feyre paused as if she considered lying before shaking her head, "No," she said, letting out a snarl of her own. "But considering all that your kind has done to us, considering what your kind still likes to do to us, even if I had known beyond a doubt, it was deserved."

The beast answered with a growl full of wrath and rage.

"What is the payment the Treaty requires?" Feyre suddenly questioned.

"A life for a life," Val murmured, her voice filled with dread. Her tone had been quiet, but the beast heard and nodded.

"Any unprovoked attacks on faerie-kind by humans are to be paid only by a human life in exchange," He said

"I didn't know," Feyre said honestly. "Didn't know about that part of the Treaty."

"Most of you mortals have chosen to forget that part of the Treaty," He replied, "which makes punishing you far more enjoyable."

At the threat of harm to her sister, the fire returned to Val, "Don't touch her!" She snarled. "Take my life," She blurted out, "Take me and leave her be."

Her demand was met by protests from both Feyre and Nesta.

"Her life and only her life will be accepted," The beast stated coldly.

Feyre placed a hand on Val's shoulder, and the older girl stilled. "It's okay," Feyre choked out, "Take care of the others." Feyre took a breath before looking at the beast, "Do it outside," She whispered, her voice trembling. "Not...here."

"Feyre, no!"

"Willing to accept your fate so easily?" The beast mocked, "For having the nerve to request where I slaughter you, I'll let you in on a secret, human: Prythian must claim your life in some way, for the life you took from it. So as a representative of the immortal realm, I can either gut you like swine or...you can cross the wall and live out the remainder of your days in Prythian."

Feyre blinked, "What?"

The beast repeated it slowly, "You can either die tonight or offer your life to Prythian by living in it forever, forsaking the human realm."

Val wasn't sure how to react. Part of her felt overwhelming relief. The other part was filled with sinking dread.

"Do it, Feyre," Their father whispered from behind them. "Go."

Val refrained from whirling around to snap at her father.

"And where would she live? Every inch of Prythian would be lethal to her." Val questioned, her eyes narrowing.

"I have lands," The faerie revealed almost reluctantly, and he looked to Feyre. "I will grant you permission to live there."

"Why bother?" Feyre asked.

"You murdered my friend," The beast snarled. "Murdered him, skinned his corpse, sold it at the market, and then said he deserved it, and yet you have the nerve to question my generosity?"

"You didn't need to mention the loophole," Feyre said, stepping closer to the beast. Val's fingers twitched to pull her sister back, but she curled her hand into a fist, digging her nails into her palms to stop herself.

The beast let out another snarl. "Foolish of me to forget that humans have such low opinions of us. Do you humans no longer understand mercy?" He growled. "Let me make this clear for you, girl: you can either come live at my home in Prythian—offer your life for the wolf's in that way—or you can walk outside right now and be shredded to ribbons. Your choice."

Val's ears picked up on the distinct sound of her father's uneven steps. His hand landed on Feyre's shoulder. "Please, good sir—Feyre is my youngest. I beseech you to spare her. She is all...she is all..." He trailed off, whatever he meant to say dying in his throat as the beast roared, "Please—"

"Silence!" The beast snapped.

"I can get gold—" Their father tried again, but at his words, Val felt her rage become directed at him. These last five years, he had done nothing to help their family. They lived off what she and Feyre hunted, so how would he get money? Begging? That would only gain him a few coppers, and that was being hopeful. Even with Val hunting, it wouldn't be enough. If the beast put a price on Feyre's name, it would be steep and probably would be worth its weight in gold.

The following words out of the beast's mouth nearly echoed Val's thoughts, "How much is your daughter's life worth to you? Do you think it equates to a sum?"

Their father didn't reply, and Val's lip curled. She knew exactly how much their life was worth to their father. Nothing. He would have let them starve if it hadn't been for Feyre.

Feyre, daring another step towards the beast, snapped Val's attention back to her. "When do we go?"

Val's eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall as she realized that it was really happening. Feyre was leaving.

The beast moved to the door, more specifically Feyre's quiver, and he pulled out her ash arrow. He slightly sniffed it and growled before snapping it in half and chucking it into the fire behind Nesta and Elain. His eerie green eyes looked back to Feyre, "Now."

Feyre turned back, and her despair-filled eyes met Vals, who was frozen in dread and shock.

"The venison should hold you for two weeks," Feyre said thickly to their father, already gathering her clothes to bulk up against the cold. "Start on the fresh meat, then work your way through to the jerky—" She looked to Val, "You know how to make it."

Val surged towards her sister, ignoring the beast's snarl as she pulled Feyre in for a fierce hug. Val glared over Feyre's shoulder at the beast, who just bared his teeth before leaving the cottage to wait for Feyre outside.

"I will find you until then survive, Feyre," Val whispered in her ear. Val pulled away, looking at Feyre and memorizing her sister's features, "Remember, don't ever stop fighting. You, my darling sister, are so much stronger than you know."

Sensing his growing impatience, Val reluctantly let go. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held them back because if she let them fall, she didn't know if they would stop.

"Remember, when spring comes, hunt in the grove just south of the big bend in Silverspring Creek—the rabbits make their warrens there," Feyre said shakily.

Feyre's eyes took in her father and sisters one last time before turning to leave, but she paused, looking at Elain and Nesta.

"Whatever you do," Feyre said quietly, "Don't marry Tomas Mandray. His father beats his wife, and none of his sons do anything to stop it. Bruises are harder to conceal than poverty."

Feyre turned to leave, but their father caught Feyre's arm.

"Feyre," Their father said. His fingers trembled as he grasped Feyre's gloved hands. "You were always too good for here, Feyre. Too good for us, too good for everyone. If you ever escape, ever convince them that you've paid the debt, don't return. Don't ever come back," He repeated as his hands moved to shake Feyre by the shoulders. "Feyre." He stumbled over her name, swallowing harshly. "You go somewhere new—and you make a name for yourself."

Val went ridged at his words, and she wanted to protest to them...but she couldn't. He was right. If Feyre had a chance to make a better life for herself, who was she to stop her sister? If anyone deserved it, it was Feyre.

"Find love," Val added quietly, "Promise me that if we never see each other again, you will find a way to live your life happy and find someone who will love you with their entire being."

A feeling of failure wrapped around Val's heart. She failed as Feyre's older sister to protect her. She should've gone with her that day and killed the wolf herself. She should've...she should've done a lot of things differently. But she would be damned if she failed Feyre by holding her back. If Feyre had the chance, Val wanted Feyre to live the life she always deserved, full of happiness and love.

Feyre's throat bobbed as she nodded, "I promise," She whispered and then she was gone.

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banner credits: saradika-graphics & reveriesources

[eye-kandii]

MANEATER

Chapter 1

In her first act of freedom, Y/n had left a trail of destruction. The charred remnants of the prison stood as a grim reminder of her escape. Bodies of elite shinobi littered the scene—men and women who had underestimated her rage, her cunning, and the deadly allure of her siren-like abilities.

Whispers of her power and beauty spread like wildfire. The few survivors described her last act before vanishing: seducing the warden with a knife pressed to his throat, her voice like velvet laced with venom. "Open the gate," she had whispered, a seductive smirk on her lips. "Or bleed out in my arms.

He'd obeyed, of course. Who wouldn't?

The tension in the dimly lit Akatsuki hideout was palpable. Pain's Rinnegan glowed faintly in the shadows as he addressed the group.

"This Y/n Chisuke has stolen the world's attention from our mission," he stated, his voice cold. "She's a nuisance we cannot ignore."

Kisame leaned back against the wall, grinning. "A rogue kunoichi causing this much chaos? Gotta say, I'm intrigued. Think she'd join us?"

Deidara scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If she doesn't blow herself up first, yeah, sure."

"It doesn't matter what her motives are," Pain interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "She's a distraction. Find her. Kill her if you must. But do not let her stand in our way."

Y/n leaned back against the trunk of an ancient tree, a joint dangling from her lips as she exhaled a slow, steady stream of smoke. Her red-dyed curls framed her face, her dark brown eyes scanning the horizon.

"Two years," she muttered, her voice low and raspy. "Two years locked up for something I didn't even do."

Her gaze flicked to the jagged knife in her hand, the same blade she'd used to carve her way out of that hellhole. The memory of her sister's lifeless body flashed in her mind, and her jaw tightened.

The flickering light of a dying campfire danced against the walls of a secluded cavern deep within the Land of Rain. The sound of rain echoed from the cavern's mouth, muffling the crackle of the flames and the low murmurs of the three figures seated around it.

Y/n Chisuke, notorious fugitive and the world's most wanted rogue kunoichi, sat cross-legged on the ground. Her red curls gleamed under the firelight, and a haze of smoke swirled around her as she took a slow drag from her joint. Across from her, the twin rogue ninjas Yuki and Yukan leaned against each other, their expressions tense but relieved.

"We always knew they'd come for you," Yuki said, her voice soft but firm. She tucked a strand of her long, silver hair behind her ear and stared into the fire. "But we didn't think they'd go this far."

Yukan, her twin, frowned, his dark eyes fixed on Y/n. "Half the shinobi world wants your head, Y/n. Staying with us is dangerous."

Y/n smirked, blowing out a plume of smoke. "Danger's all I've known, Yukan. Besides..." Her voice turned low, bitter. "Where else am I gonna go? Everyone else thinks I'm a monster. Only y'all know the truth."

The twins exchanged a glance, their bond unspoken but clear. They'd been through too much together to turn her away now.

Yuki's hand rested gently on Y/n's knee, grounding her back to the present. "We know you didn't kill her, Y/n. And we know who did."

Y/n's jaw clenched, the firelight reflecting in her dark eyes like embers. "Then why don't the rest of them know? Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"Because the truth doesn't matter to them," Yukan said bitterly, his voice low. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You're a scapegoat, a convenient target to distract the world from their own failures."

Y/n's smirk returned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, if they wanted a monster, they've got one now."

Unbeknownst to the trio, search parties continued to comb through the forests and villages of the Land of Rain. Shinobi from every village—Konoha, Suna, Kiri, and beyond—were relentless in their pursuit. Every dead lead only fueled their frustration and resolve.

The Akatsuki had also intensified their efforts. Itachi and Kisame had been dispatched to investigate rumors of a rogue kunoichi sheltering in the area. Deidara had been particularly eager, claiming he wanted to "test her resolve" with his explosives.

But Y/n had been careful. For months now, she hadn't stepped foot outside the cavern except under the cover of night. The twins ensured she remained hidden, their skills in infiltration and deception keeping them one step ahead of the hunters.

"We can't stay here forever," Yukan said, breaking the silence.

"Duh," Y/n replied, rolling her eyes as she flicked ash into the fire. "I didn't escape that hellhole just to sit around."

Yuki tilted her head, her sharp gaze fixed on Y/n. "So what's the plan?"

Y/n grinned, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "We find out who really killed my sister. And when we do..." She let the sentence hang, but the weight of her words was clear.

Yukan leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "That's the Y/n I know."

"Damn right," Y/n said, taking another drag. "They wanted a war. Let's give them one."

[ninadove]

Recently, I’ve seen many posts (well… ‘many’ as per East of Eden standards, so like, 3 or 4) regretting Steinbeck’s treatment of Cathy/Kate. And I must admit, it puzzles me, because I am absolutely convinced he wanted us to feel sympathy towards her.

Many of her thoughts and alleged crimes are reported by an unreliable narrator who has no way of verifying any of this information. Most importantly, Steinbeck himself admits he is an unreliable narrator and that he is not equipped to understand or judge her:

[Chapter 8] You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstruous.

[Chapter 13] It doesn’t matter that Cathy was what I have called a monster. Perhaps we can’t understand Cathy, but on the other hand we are capable of many things in all directions, of great virtues and great sins. And who in his mind has not probed the black water?

[Chapter 17] When I said Cathy was a monster it seemed to me that it was so. Now I have bent close with a glass over the small print of her and re-read the footnotes, and I wonder if it was true. The trouble is that since we cannot know what she wanted, we will never know whether or not she got it. If rather than running toward something, she ran away from something, we cannot know whether she escaped. Who knows but that she tried to tell someone or everyone what she was like and could not, for lack of a common language. Her life may have been her language, formal, developed, indecipherable. It is easy to say she was bad, but there is little meaning unless we know why.

And, interestingly enough — even this kinder diagnosis is disproven later on.

What supposedly sets Cathy/Kate apart from the rest of humanity is the concept of timshel, the great choice that should ‘give [her] stature with the gods’: something she should be pitied, not demonised, for lacking. But does she actually lack it? Does she?

[Chapter 50] Kate was not thinking. Her mind drifted among impressions the way a bat drifts and swoops in the evening. She saw the face of the blonde and beautiful boy, his eyes mad with shock. She heard his ugly words aimed not so much at her as at himself. And she saw his dark brother leaning against the door and laughing.

Kate had laughed too — the quickest and best self-protection. What would her son do? What had he done after he went quietly away?

She loves Aron because she (erroneously) believes he is the one good thing that came out of her. She is terrified of Cal because she (erroneously) sees him as the incarnation of everything that is wrong with her, and paradoxically of a choice she thinks she does not have herself:

[Chapter 39] Cal said, “I was afraid I had you in me.”

“You have,” said Kate.

“No, I haven’t. I’m my own. I don’t have to be you.”

“How do you know that?” she demanded.

“I just know. It just came to me whole. If I’m mean, it’s my own mean. […] I don’t think the light hurts your eyes. I think you’re afraid.”

“Get out!” she cried. “Go on, get out!”

“I’m going.” He had his hand on the doorknob. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re afraid.”

Were she truly incapable of doing good, she would not care that much. Which makes her a stellar foil to Adam (much like the twins are foils to each other), who is obsessed with the concept of timshel and keeps making all the wrong decisions in the pursuit of a noble ideal that causes more harm than good.

The bottom line is: Steinbeck did an incredible job writing Cathy/Kate and deserves much more credit than he gets.

[the-most-faithful]

“So you don't wear leather pants while you're among the bad guys” he said, studying him with a grin. The man raised a grim eyebrow.   “I've wandered through your mind, but now I don't want to know what perverted fantasies are there now.” Harry burst out laughing without being able to contain himself.   “Good that you take the fact that you almost died lightly.” he commented.   "It must be habit." nodded Harry "How are you?"   “I'd be better off if you weren't an idiot.”   "What did I do?" He asked confused.   “What didn't you do.” Snape said "They recognized you in your escape."   “Hedwig…”   “Not for your owl.” he interrupted him sharply “You just disarmed.”   “It was Stanley Shunpike!” He replied in dismay.   “No matter who he is, the time to Disarm is over. Out there they try to kill you, you can't always answer with Expelliarmus” he said gravely. “It's practically become your signature.”   “Should I have killed Stan?” Harry asked angrily.   “If necessary, yes.” replied Snape "We are at war, there are no dueling rules, kill or be killed." He felt like an idiot, yet he still had a residue of defiance.   “I'm not going to kill people just because they happen to be in front of me.” he said. "I'll leave that to Voldemort." Snape opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. He looked at it carefully, as if searching for something.   “There is not only Avada Kedavra, she uses other spells, she crashes» he finally proposed. Harry nodded "he won't get in trouble for coming here, will he?" “No, we all split up after… let's just say no one really wants to be close to the Dark Lord now, you've escaped him for the umpteenth time.”   "It wasn't me" Harry said flatly. “It was my wand. My wand acted upon his will." Snape cocked his head. "Instinct?"   "No" Harry insisted. “The motorbike was falling, I didn't know where Voldemort was, but the wand turned in my hand, he found him and cast a spell on him that I didn't even recognize. I've never had golden flames appear before." Snape nodded silently, running two fingers over his lips. “The Dark Lord used Lucius' wand, he thinks that your wands are twins and therefore cannot clash, but apparently even using another one doesn't change much.”   “But it doesn't make sense.” Harry complained.   “Few things make sense.” Snape whispered. Harry felt a violent pang in his scar, he could barely keep from moaning out loud. Snape noticed immediately.   “Close your mind.” he ordered, lowering his voice. "I'm trying." he groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Read on Ao3

[reikunrei]

just reading the wikipedia page on doppelgangers for funsies

"In fiction and mythology, a doppelgänger is often portrayed as a ghostly or paranormal phenomenon and usually seen as a harbinger of bad luck. Other traditions and stories equate a doppelgänger with an evil twin. In modern times, the term twin stranger is occasionally used."

"In Ancient Egyptian mythology, a ka was a tangible "spirit double" having the same memories and feelings as the person to whom the counterpart belongs."

"This memic sense also appears in Euripides' play Helen, and in Norse mythology, a vardøger is a ghostly double who is seen performing the person's actions in advance. In Finnish mythology, this pattern is described as having an etiäinen, "a firstcomer"."

"Izaak Walton claimed that John Donne, the English metaphysical poet, saw his wife's doppelgänger in 1612 in Paris, on the same night as the stillbirth of their daughter. [...] - Two days after their arrival there, Mr. Donne was left alone, in that room in which Sir Robert, and he, and some other friends had dinner together. To this place Sir Robert returned within half an hour; and, as he left, so he found Mr. Donne alone; but, in such ecstasy, and so altered as to his looks, as amazed Sir Robert to behold him in so much that he earnestly desired Mr. Donne to declare befallen him in the short time of his absence? to which, Mr. Donne was not able to make a present answer: but, after a long and perplexing pause, did at last say, I have seen a dreadful Vision since I saw you: I have seen my dear wife pass twice by me through this room, with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead child in her arms: this, I have seen since I saw you. To which, Sir Robert replied; Sure Sir, you have slept since I saw you; and, this is the result of some melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake. To which Mr. Donnes reply was: I cannot be surer that I now live, then that I have not slept since I saw you: and am, assure, that at her second appearing, she stopped, looked me in the face, and vanished."

"[...] Goethe wrote, almost in passing: - [...] I now rode along the foot-path toward Drusenheim, and here one of the most singular forebodings took possession of me. I saw, not with the eyes of the body, but with those of the mind, my own figure coming toward me, on horseback, and on the same road, attired in a dress which I had never worn, [...]. As soon as I shook myself out of this dream, the figure had entirely disappeared. It is strange, however, that, eight years afterward, I found myself on the very road, to pay one more visit to Frederica, in the dress of which I had dreamed, and which I wore, not from choice, but by accident. However, it may be with matters of this kind generally, this strange illusion in some measure calmed me at the moment of parting. The pain of quitting for ever noble Alsace, with all I had gained in it, was softened; and, having at last escaped the excitement of a farewell, I, on a peaceful and quiet journey, pretty well regained my self-possession."

[lockedtowers]

From Predator To Prey

or, essentially, why cassie cannot remember that transition period between escaping the castle, and meeting hatter, because thanks to mad march (mine specifically aka @familiarache ) she can’t. Until she did also because of him in the main story.

because there’s a lot to unpack there, and ofc i get the inspiration to write this before work, so i’m not spell checking or anything i’m just throwing the thoughts out into the void and we’re dealing w it. again, these are based on my characterization with my version of these characters, and would not affect anyone elses versions, in fact this mostly just affects her behavior with non sy/fy alice characters in general unless you say you want to do something with this storyline in those verses with your sy/fy alice chars. what i write for my character outside of our interactions is not me godmodding you, please don’t think otherwise, i’m not gonna force it

a quick toss in; cassie does not know her mother, has no idea she’s the princess of spades, doesn’t know why cheshire cats are considered ‘dangerous’ (because theyre pmuch all faeries and QoH wanted to annihilate them), and have never knowingly met her father. she was raised by her uncle who works under the Queen of Hearts as her right hand. He ensured that neither she nor Miseris would learn the truth, and because Cassandra was the older twin and the girl, meaning by wonderland law she would have inherited no matter what because she’s the girl, he had to ensure she was unaware. That did not stop him from making sure Jack knew, which is where Jack’s (also mine, also @ familiarache.) obsession grew from. She held the power to take away his right to a throne that never should have belonged to him in the first place and even though she didn’t know that, he did. But if he married her, he’d be seen as the hero, and even if people found out about her, he would already hold the crown and could just.. make her disappear, basically.

other important things to note: when the Queen of Hearts agreed to hire cassie on as an assassin, she put march in charge of her. march is older than hatter, older than their other sib, he is the eldest overall. he has powers, he can talk to shadows and even control them to a point, but people hear him talk about it and… it doesn’t go well. cassie heard him talk about it, and she didn’t judge him for it, she didn’t care, she didn’t even know she was ‘supposed’ to (as she put it when he asked her about it). in march’s mind, he owned her the second the Queen of Hearts gave her to him. and that solidifies a lot over the course of their partnership and… otherwise. but it’s important to note all the negatives first; he’s a lot older than her, which yeah wonderland theyre all over 100 years old it doesnt matter as much but its important to note, he’s older than her by a decent chunk. He was her tutor. he decided she was his property. and she honestly didn’t know any better because all she knew was people weren’t hurting her when she was with him, which made her grow extremely attached. but the massive power imbalance is still there and still important to note even then when maddox/march isn’t ‘that bad’ yet.

now, for the actual focus of this. when cassie was pulled aside by the ten of clubs, (shortly after she personally refused a kill. a kill march finished. so she assumed she was in trouble for that, despite already being punished for it before.) and told that she would be pulled out of the ‘team’ so to say, because the queen of hearts wanted to put her in training before officially marking her as jack’s fiance… she did not have a good reaction. even pointed out like ‘i’m not a royal, i’m not a noble, i can’t do that’ to which 10 just said the queen will make her what she needs to be, and she does not get a choice.

and believe me, march was pissed when he found out. because she belonged to him. and while he was thinking over ways to still keep her; just take her away between times she has to he with jack, figure out how to manipulate jack into letting him keep her, etc, she was just trying to figure out how to get out of it.

but, the queen, at the time as she still trusted her son then, left jack in charge of what training cassandra needed. and rather than actually put her in any training, he had the suits bring her into the prisons below the vices tower (it was not the casino yet, but still held the same operations.)

now, jack had her imprisoned in a specialty made cell. unbreakable glass where he could see in, she could not see out. water filled the bottom of the cell, and an electric current could be turned on at any time. the queen thought cassandra was just in training (when she even remembered her), march didn’t know where the hell she went. jack would come see her, and in his true manipulative form, claim he had no idea his mother would do that to her when he expressed his interest, nor that march would out her weaknesses. he’d promise that she’d be freed when he could figure out how, meanwhile he was the one who put her there. and to make matters worse, he’d eventually get March to be the one watching her.. with three other suits at all times, as jack was in fact aware of what was going on between them.

the issue, though, is they also had the jabberwock locked up a few cages down. the jabberwock they caught anyways when cassie told them they shouldn’t. and the jabberwock that is very protective over her. and the jabberwock, no matter how much they thought it could be, could not stay imprisoned for long. coincidentally, just as cassie had found the weak point in her cell while the guards were distracted.

it broke out, at the same time cassie broke out, and the jabberwock destroyed nearly the entire prisons with it. it found cassie in the rubble of her cell, along with four suits (as march wasn’t there at the time), and took her with it when it left. the underside of the tower was compeletely destroyed, and as the jabberwock got out, it destroyed multiple halls and walls in its path. whilst the structure was mostly still there, the lower half was truly struggling. so although they continued their operations, after a short break due to the fear the people started exhibiting making it too dangerous until carpenter ‘fixed’ them, they still were able to continue draining oysters a few days later. whereas the structure had to undergo massive rebuilds for weeks, which they refrained from letting the public be aware of.

while the queen didn’t know cassandra was imprisoned, she did hear that she broke out and escaped, and that was enough for her. she told march to kill her and bring her back cassie’s heart, and march was ever the loyal killer for her. even if that was the last thing he wanted to do.

jack sent suits with him, claiming she was ‘too dangerous now for march to go alone’, all whilst also alerting the resistance that a ‘tool’ of his escaped the imprisonment ‘his mother’ placed her in, and that she’d need to be kept somewhere safe when she was found; which is when dodo would start looking for a shoe in.

and of course, march would find her; she had woken up and wandered off, not knowing what to do about the jabberwock, but knowing she couldn’t stay in one place too long because jack would find her. she didn’t trust jack at all. she didn’t like jack at all. she didn’t like how he’d touch her, how he’d look at her, or anything of the sort, and despite being trained her whole life to be loyal to then, her time with march sort of cut that mentality away from her despite the fact he was loyal to them himself.

but march couldn’t do it. he almost did, the blade was at her throat, and she even held her hair up by the end telling him to just get it over with. she didn’t want to run anymore, she didn’t want to have to hide, but she’d rather die than have to be in the tower anymore.

but march couldn’t do it. he loudly claimed ‘she doesn’t want your head. she wants your heart.’ when he dropped the knife; but used his gun to shoot the three suits that accompanied him. whilst cassie was panicking, he pulled her up to her feet, pushed her back against a tree, and held her still while he looked at her eyes. he demanded a deal, told her he can’t let her go until she agrees; she had to forget about him, specifically. everything they were, everything they had, everything about him: until he came back to make her remember, and that he’d ‘kiss her or something’ to make her remember. but the second she left that clearing in the forest, she had to forget everything about mad march, everything about maddox madigan, she could not remember him and put him at risk, too. when she agreed, he kissed her, and shoved her away while he turned his attention to one of the suits, aiming to get his heart instead.

she escaped from the tulgy wood into the forest of wabe, becoming lost rather quickly, until she fell and hit her head. the jabberwock came to find her, and picked her up, carrying her to a withered down cabin within the forest. when it set her down, it laid down, looking directly at her as its eyes grew black.

when she woke up, it wasn’t her in her body; her father took control of her conscious. a natural at the magic she didn’t know how to control, he used water to make a mirror as he overlooked her; saddened at how much of her life he truly missed, he took a glance over at the jabberwocks resting form. with a sigh, he held her hand up, crystalizing a knife. she was never going to be able to tap into her full power if he didn’t do this, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt her. but by taking control of her form, he could at least ensure she wouldn’t remember it, even though she wouldn’t know what all had happened the last several days.

by the time she woke up properly, almost three weeks later, she saw a crystalized mirror in front of her, and a large scar over her neck. she felt weird, and confused, and alone. but the jabberwock nudged her with its head, and she came to realize it’d been watching over her this entire time. she didn’t know what happened, or why, just that jack heart wanted her, and she couldn’t let him get her.

she’d be found by her twin brother, who only told her he had a short amount of time, and gave her new clothes and a map on where to go. she listened, and found the tea shoppe: and ultimately, hatter, who’d recently gained his position, recently lost a brother (by his own hand), and was charged by dodo to watch over her and make sure the hearts don’t find her. but she doesn’t remember much, and everytime she mentioned ‘a tutor’ of hers, she’d seem to be in undeniable pain. something was blocking her ability to remember, but he didn’t have much options with her anyways. she couldn’t go to the resistance, and they didn’t tell him why, but he had to keep watch over her. make sure she stayed safe, even when she annoyed him.

and of course she’d grow attached to him, too, because he took care of her. how was she not meant to see him as a friend, and want to protect him, too.

[jencva]

Just around the corner, and through the small corridor were war cries. A woman; she was wearing out those leather gloves, punching in routine at a metal mechanism, markings of her knuckles left within it like it was made of tin, though surely not. Jenova, with each hit, let out a sheer yell. Her mind wandered; remembering things beyond these cavern walls, beyond the steel sky. Fingertips broke leather, pinching the flesh of her palm; blood that was not red. A hot, violent hue of lilac, much like poison that ran through her veins. Jenova eyes focused, though she was not picturing what was merely in front of her; but something else entirely.

__________________

Fists hit the face of a man in a robe, who tried to rope her hands together; escaping her inevitable was only out of protection of what she carried, nothing more. What heresy. Apostacy. What good did love come by, than to die with it? No, she would preserve it, no matter the cost. Another entered, though it was another woman, laced in gold. A friend. Prudence, leader of the Neks Guard. She would lay down her weapon, and wrap the woman up in a garb of white. "I came as soon as I heard, Lady Jenova. Come with me, I have a boat ready. Are you or the child hurt?" Hands clutched to Prudence's shoulders. A mere shake of her head. The Neks Mages would awake soon from being knocked out, however their spells had been cast. "They've bound my use of walking to ensure I would not run from them. I cannot run, Prudence. I am frightened more will come to collect me and my unborn." Even now, they could be heard in the distance. Prudence lifted Jenova with both arms, two allied guards assisting them out of the chambers. "I have you, my Lady. I promise I will get you to the boats, or lay down my life trying." Jenova allowed this, not seeing any other option. "And what of my dearest? Is he alright?" The woman gave a grin. "Sirius can handle himself. You should not doubt him. Let us be off." She nodded to the allied guards to watch her back, golden swords at the ready. _____________________ At this point her eyes were closed, focusing more on the numbness of her knuckles as they increased the mark of the metal, blood staining the indents. As much as she wanted to repress the memory; it would always be there. Letting it flow like an unwavering storm, wind caused violent waves within the pool of her mind. _____________________ There was no time to think. Blades swung at anything that came towards them. Jenova felt helpless; despite her ability to fight, she was nothing without needing to protect what was within. For the first time, she was frightened. It took one arrow, and a traitor to make Prudence lose her balance. Both went down. Ahead was the twin sister, longbow in hand, and ready to aim another arrow. Prudence saw her very sister take aim. "Aboline! Don't do it. She is one of us!" Without hesitation, she dragged herself to step in front of Jenova, slowly pulling the arrow from her shoulder. Those eyes; they pierced each other. Sword and Bow, protectors of the Promised Land looked at it in such a different way. Aboline merely shook her head. "You threw your lot in with her, a sinner. You're the one making me do this, sister." What madness was this? Corruption; damnation. The arrow readied, but before it could even release, a blade struck Aboline from behind. Jenova and Prudence fell wide eyed. Sirius. Bloodied, though still standing, made the strike. A needless fight, all of this was, but anything to protect; that is what they said. The body fell limp; dead. Sirius rushed to their side, armor stained with dirt and Nekks blood, but never was he restless. A hand touched Jenova's cheek, a calming voice that spoke. " 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘉𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘢. 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘴. " ____________ That was as far as the memory would go. Jenova's eyes opened, at last her palms opened, and a blast of a light came from them. The beam was as hot as a portion of the sun, and singed the gloves she wore off her hands. It shocked even her... Sending the metal mechanism to melt away, in the distance was a ringing. Through breaths being caught in her lungs, gaze went from her hands to the small black stone that rests in the middle of the room. It called... Could it be they were there, alive and well? Could she reach the Promised Land?

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise

Chapter Fourteen : A Choice Description: Saera Targaryen was her father's forgotten daughter. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her sister and seeks solace in the arms of her uncle. Not realizing that the consequence of their affair is just as dire as her sister's. masterlist

<<previous chapter

SAERA SMILES AT DAEMON AS SHE ROCKS THEIR YOUNGEST TO SLEEP. He smiles back at her, his eyes shining with unfamiliar warmth. He could see that being a mother suited her. "When he falls asleep, we should try for another one." he whispers seductively, trying not to wake his son.

She laughs — but it also comes out as a snort, since she didn't wish to wake her baby. "How befitting of a prince to say," she smirks as he places a kiss on her and Daelon's forehead.

She stares at her son's features, carefully memorizing every bump. "He looks exactly like you," he comments as she hums in approval. There was a softness in her son's features, his round head and light purple eyes — that was all Saera.

"I agree," she replies as she angles herself to look at her husband. "They grow up so fast," she adds remembering the times she held her oldest twins. And now they were making their own destiny.

She pauses for a while, thinking about ways to bring up Alyssa's engagement. To be honest, she hasn't made a choice yet and was hoping to ask for her husband's opinion.

"About Alyssa," she begins as his eyebrows raised. He loved Alyssa — although he wasn't much close with her. "Yes?" he questioned, remaining eye-contact with his beautiful bride.

She looks down at her son, breaking his gaze. She takes a deep breath, gathering her words. "There are those who seek her hand. Prince Jace and Prince Aemond, although I cannot make a choice." she rationalized as he frowns.

If he had his way, then his children would never be married. There were cruel men in this world — and as a parent, you only wish to protect them. "And it matters less of politics and more of the whims of our daughter? Correct?" he queried and she nods.

She could care less for the politics of this court, the only thing she cared about was what her daughter wanted. "My personal choice would be Aemond — and I hate that boy with passion. But they've always been close, attached to the hips since they were born. Alyssa does not give a damn about Jace, or any of his siblings." he enunciated the last parts.

It was true, Alyssa and The Strongs were never close — it was always them and Daegon. "But won't she hate us? If we pimp her out this soon? I know I hated my father for doing the same thing" she inquired as a groan escapes from his pink lips.

"That is something only she can answer." he replies, while standing up and dusting his pants. "I'll ask her, but for now you must rest." he smiles, pecking her lips lightly and taking the baby from her hands.

"You had a very long night." he winks, walking towards the door and exiting the warmth of their room.

DAEMON'S EYES NARROWED AS IT ADJUSTED TO THE BRIGHT LIGHT, he walked towards his daughter who was sitting underneath the Weirwood Tree. "Uncle Daemon," she greets, standing up and straightening her gown.

He smiles at her, pressing his son closer towards his chest. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks as he halts in front of her. "Sit down," he commands as they both settle underneath its roots.

"Is everything alright?" she questioned in a concerned tone as he nods. He comes here to settle Saera's doubt, and also to show his daughter that he cares. "Matters regarding your future have been put to attention. And I mean betrothals." he clears up as she nods.

Her head has always been in the clouds, believing that marriage was a fairytale. But she wasn't stupid, she had her own opinions too — and didn't wish to marry an ugly old lord.

"Who asks for my hand?" she asks in a jovial tone, already wishing for someone in her mind. He raises his eyebrows not expecting excitement from her. "Your mother reveals Prince Jace and Prince Aemond," he adds stress to the last part and she bites back a smile.

Her face betrays her however, as she began to turn red. Daemon chuckles, recognizing her facial expression. She covers her face, and he smirks lightly. His predictions were correct.

"Prince Aemond is it? A little cunt — but he'd be a willing puppy." he shrugs as she reaches for a book and covers her face with it. The mere mention of his name gives her body a jolt of joy.

"Father, stop it!" she whines as a laugh escapes from his lips. She removes the book from his face as he brings a finger to his lips, pointing towards her brother and motioning for her to be silent.

"Alyssa likes Aemond," he teases, tickling the sides of her stomach. Prompting her to hit him with a book. "Stop it!" she complained hiding her laughter from The Rogue Prince.

DAEGON OPENS THE DOOR TO HELAENA'S STUDY, his eyes moving back and forth from her children to her. "Princess Helaena," he greets as she continues inspecting her signature centipede.

"Prince Daegon," she replies in a low tone, allowing for her children to play with little beetles. "I didn't know that you returned," she attached with her loony voice as he slumps down on the floor beside her.

"It's not your fault, we didn't really tell anyone either." he smiles as she hands him Jahaera. The little girl was adorable, she had big bubbly cheeks and small white hair. It was clear that she was Helaena's daughter.

He holds the baby gently, remembering the times where he had to take care of his own brother. His heart reaches for Helaena, as rumors tell him that her husband isn't exactly a good person.

"Are the dreams better?" he asks, knowing about her nightmares. She shakes her head, and places the bugs on their jars. The childhood fascination never really left her.

"No," she whispers as her attention remained plastered on the insects. "What are they about?" he asks finding beauty in her dreams. Especially in the ways she'd present it. Beautiful poems, and sometimes flowerful words. He liked listening to it.

For the first time, she turns her head to look at him. Her mouth almost pressing into a thin line, if not for her son who babbled constantly and tried to reach her specimens.

"Spools of Green become Spools of Black. Spools of Black become Spools of White." she rambled endlessly, as if she was seeing something happen in front of her. Her eyes zoomed off, but she was shaken out of the trance by Daegon's hand being placed upon her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" he asks with a soft smile, and she nods her head. Reaching for Jaehera.

>>next chapter

A/N: What do u think the prophecy could mean?

taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @mirandastuckinthe80s @duhitzdae @schniiipsel @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @brezzybfan @rockerchick05 @flawroses @joygirlmelii @princessmiaelicia @prettybiching @saraandthejets1 @naturallyspontaneous @hnybitches @lxdyred @inpraizeof @claudie-080102 @1-800-isabellapotter @mamamooqa @23victoria @curiouser-an-curiouser @queenofshinigamis @alexisabirdie @kindaslightlyacidic @anaisbambia @my-dark-prince @sebastian025

[duskyashe]

NaNoWriMo Day #12

[masterlist]

Prompt found here

(for my regular readers, this is the Harry Potter ficlet I meant to write yesterday)

=======‹«⟨···•···⟩»›=======

The first order of operations, after their great escape from Hogwarts, was Gringotts bank to set up the last of their business affairs. After that, they went directly to the ministry. Fred and George shared a glance while in the elevator. They had some... Business with the family services division.

=======‹«⟨···•···⟩»›=======

A week and a half after the Weasley twins left Hogwarts with a bang, Harry got a letter from them. Well, actually, Harry got two letters, a letter from Remus, which was a clever disguise for the letter from the twins, involving the same passphrase as the Marauders Map, and a letter from the ministry, which was explained by the letter from the twins from Remus.

Dearest Ikle Harrykins,

You should, at this time, have received a letter from the family services division at the ministry. We would have talked to you about this before going through with it, but we thought it best to act as soon as we legally could, instead. We want you to know that we have the utmost respect for your parents, and in no way are we trying to replace them—we'd be very poor replacements, in all honesty, your father was a legend, and your mum was bloody brilliant with a wand—we just want you to have a better home life than the one you do now, and we're tired of waiting for the adults in our lives to step up and step in. We have tried so many times to get mum or dad to lodge an inquiry or sue for custody, but they never took us seriously, and for that, we're truly sorry. They lost out on the chance to gain a truly spectacular—stupendous—extraordinary—yeah, alright, you get it, wonderful son like you. Instead, they'll get the shock of a lifetime, with their twin seventeen year old sons giving them their first grandbaby. Congrats, mum, it's a boy!

Harry, we want what's best for you, but we want you to trust us most of all. We know you struggle with authority figures, and we know there's a very good reason for that. You don't have to call us anything specific, simply using our names will do, but we're open to anything you'd be comfortable calling us. If you'd prefer more of a brotherly relationship over anything paternal, well, we certainly have more than enough practice with that! Either way, we will have to set and enforce certain rules, no matter what, though the what and how would be better discussed in person than over post.

We also want you to be prepared for a potential eruption of Mount Molly when we come to pick you up from the station, we haven't exactly told mum that we adopted you. We've only told Remus, Snuffles, and Bill, who helped ward our shop as part of our deal with the FSD for being allowed to adopt, "Someone of such standing while so young," hope you don't mind.

Anyway, if you want to tell your muggle relatives that you've found alternative housing for the rest of your schooling, you may want to do so soon, or you can simply write Remus back that you'd like your mischief managed and one of us will take care of it instead. Whichever you'd prefer, though honestly, I think Bill is planning on checking out those supposed blood wards on the place no matter what you say, just so you know.

We hope we haven't stepped too far out of bounds. We hope that we haven't broken your trust in us, or think we don't trust you for not talking to you about this before we left. Honestly, we thought of this idea right before we walked into Gringotts, so there wasn't time to talk to you beforehand. While it was somewhat spur of the moment, we do not and cannot regret adopting you, only the lack of discussion between us about it.

Hoping to talk again soon,

Gred and Forge

Before Harry knew it, he was in tears. He was beyond glad he'd taken the letters to bed with him and read them in privacy, or he'd have to explain to Ron and Hermione, or, Merlin forbid, the whole House, that he was fine, better than fine, even. His friends, his brothers, had seen him struggling to stay afloat, and instead of patting him on the head and telling him it was okay, they bloody well made him a life preserver and tied the other end to themselves. He legally never had to go back to the Dursley's ever again, the letter from the ministry confirmed it. Fred and George were his legal guardians, no one could force Harry to go anywhere without their say-so.

Hastily, and somewhat quietly due to the sleeping state of most of his roommates, Harry rushed to find a relatively intact piece of parchment to write his reply. He never wanted anything to do with his relatives again. A sob ripped out of his chest as it fully sunk in. He was free.

=======‹«⟨···•···⟩»›=======

Hey all! Still sick (⁠٥⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠) But we got snow this morning, so that was a good surprise! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ I had a really busy day today, so today's ficlet is pretty short, but I wanted to make sure I actually kept my word (even though I didn't write this the day I initially meant to (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ)

I'm not sure if I'll write any more non-Danny Phantom × DC/Danny Phantom × Batman ficlets (ie anything not of those crossovers) the rest of this month, I might throw in another Miraculous Ladybug × Batman ficlet or two for the practice, but I haven't really read anything not in one of those three fandoms (Miraculous Ladybug, Danny Phantom, and DC/Batman (a lot of Batman fics involve the wider DC universe, but not all of them...)) in a few months and that's making writing anything not in those fandoms more difficult than is helpful when I only have a single day to work on a given prompt 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ after November, when I'm no longer limited to just one prompt per day, we'll see!

Anyways, have a good morning/day/night!

[frogtanii]

this was... weird.

the house was completely quiet, for the first time in what felt like weeks and osamu felt very out of place.

despite being so far removed from everyone besides his girlfriend, he enjoyed the noisiness and bustle that came from all the other members.

osamu never had been a fan of the quiet.

all it did was remind him that he was alone — that he was the lesser twin, the one always left behind, the one that would remain alone while his brother basked in the limelight.

but now, that wasn’t the case! osamu had meiko and he used to have daichi and iwaizumi but ever since iwa was fired and daichi disappeared off the face of the planet, he was down two friends. that was okay! his was doing what he loved with the woman he loved and that was all that mattered.

a loud clang followed by a quiet curse shook osamu from his thoughts. he gently placed the knife he was using to prep his vegetables down before following the noise to the pantry where he found... you.

you were sitting on the floor of the pantry wearing hello kitty patterned pajama pants, fuzzy socks, and a hoodie with your hand in a bag of chips and a pan sat by your foot. belatedly, osamu recognized that you must’ve knocked over the pan after falling while trying to grab your snack.

you were cute, with your sleep mussed hair and confused expression, he briefly thought but he swiftly squashed that line of reasoning down.

he was in a happy, committed relationship and he didn’t need you to change that like you changed everything else in his life. after all, you were the reason atsumu hated him now and never spoke to him anymore. you were the reason he had to avoid going home for fear of his grandmother asking what atsumu was up to because he had no idea. you were the reason he and his twin drifted apart. it was all you.

before osamu knew it, that moment of endearment had passed and was instead replaced by anger.

“what the hell are ya doin’ here?” osamu scoffed coldly, staring down at you with fire in his eyes. you sighed and stood before skirting past him and walking out into the kitchen.

“i live here asshole,” you muttered, searching for your phone in order to go back to hiding in your room until the boys got back. you wanted to avoid conflict as much as possible but unfortunately, osamu had different plans.

he slid out in front of you, keeping you from leaving the kitchen and effectively trapping you in the encounter. “ya know that’s not what i meant. what were ya doing spying on me? gonna report back to yer little harem?”

you felt your face curl up in confusion which osamu apparently wasn’t a fan of, judging by the deepening of his sneer. “i have no idea what you’re talking about osamu, now let me go.” you attempted to push past him but he was too tall, too large, too strong and you were forced further back behind the island.

“no, i know ya tell em things about me. what were ya gonna make up this time, hm? what were ya gonna say to tsumu to make him hate me even more?” he spoke down on you, his words filling with more and more venom, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t keep yourself from cowering in front of him, your eyes filling with tears.

“osamu, please let me go, i don’t know what’s happening and i don’t know what to tell you to make you leave me alone,” your voice came out as a whimper, despite your best efforts and osamu faltered.

he’d never seen you like this, not once in your whole time living in the house, not even when most of the members were against you. you never showed weakness — you had a quiet strength most of the time and when you really got mad, as evidenced by your fight with meiko, you got violent.

but this? this was nothing like you. you were practically curling in on yourself, your arms wrapped around your chest protectively as if you were afraid he would... hit you.

oh god, oh god, osamu thought as he took a step back. what the fuck was he doing? he’d just been yelling at you, cornering you and not giving you room for escape, even though your body was clearly begging for it. you viewed him as a legitimate threat to your safety and that thought chilled him to the bone.

“yn, i—“ osamu was interrupted by the door slamming open, revealing everyone returning from the mall with atsumu at the head of the group.

“tsumu!” you choked out before pushing past a now distracted osamu and running right into his twin’s arms. he wrapped them protectively around you while whispering reassurances to you before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

the two of you held a quiet conversation that no one else could hear but osamu could guess the contents when atsumu glared up at him, looking absolutely furious.

sakusa, kuroo, and kenma gently took you into their arms, allowing you to cry quietly while atsumu stomped over to osamu before jamming his finger into his twin’s chest.

“what the hell did ya do to her, samu?” he growled, shoving osamu’s back into the island behind him. osamu allowed him to, too in shock and ashamed to protest, much less fight back.

that didn’t stop atsumu from pressing, asking question after question, none of which osamu could answer. “answer me! open yer fuckin mouth asshole and answer me!”

“atsumu, i-i’m sorry, i-“

“baby!”

a force barreled into his chest, thin arms wrapping around his waist and shoving her face in between his pecs. “it’s okay baby, i’m here,” meiko whispered in between kisses to his collarbone, her presence doing little to soothe him as his eyes darted around the room.

atsumu still looked as angry as ever but he kept his mouth shut as meiko rubbed more of her makeup on osamu’s black t shirt in her attempts to comfort him. you were staring him down as well with tear tracks staining your cheeks as sakusa rubbed circles into your back and kenma wrapped his arms around your waist. sugawara, bokuto, and kuroo were standing at your sides, eyeing him with contempt while oikawa and akaashi were deep in conversation with yachi who seemed to be stressed out of her mind.

osamu searched further and his eyes landed on daichi standing the furthest away, his eyes fixed on where meiko lied in osamu’s arms, his face full of hurt and... disdain? anger? disgust?

it was confusing so osamu quickly averted his eyes, instead choosing to focus on the woman in his arms who was now whimpering and shaking in her 4 inch heels. hesitantly, he lifted his arms to hold her closer before bending his head to breathe her in, his eyes fluttering shut at her unique smell of hairspray, brown sugar perfume, and chinese food.

“osamu,” sugawara spoke up after a moment of silence, “there’s something i need to tell you. we saw meiko ki-“

“babe? what’s going on?” a new voice rang out from the still open doorway, meiko clearly recognizing it as her head darted up to watch as the group moved from the door to reveal...

“...suna?”

℗ poker face

disruption

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - AHAHAHHAAH >:3 i was wayyy too excited for this chapter muahahha also so many of y’all guessed suna right but i couldn’t answer cs i rlly wanted it to be a surprise!!!! soooo if u guessed it right, feel like a baddie :) KSJ m so so excited to see y’all’s reactions so don’t forget to feed me ;)))))

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[cruelprincae]

Though Bill´s mortality remains a lingering concern in the back of the Prince's mind ― most active when he gazes upon him doing the most mundane things such as sleeping ever so soundly ― it is not what prompted such confession. Rather, it is the prospect of what should occur should the brunette, ever so eager and determined to follow him to Elfhame, realises that Faerie is not the place he wishes to be.

It has happened before, when Madoc married the mortal woman who then grew to become the mother to Vivi and the twin mortal girls of Elfhame; Though at first she was willing to follow him to Faerie where she remained for a good portion of time, it was not until she met the mortal blacksmith that she realised life ― specifically her life ― was far too brief, far too valuable to spend it amongst the Folk, a species much too different both in mindset and physique to her own. Ultimately, she decided to leave him and it was that haste decision which sparked the Redcap's wrath, and resulted in her untimely death; and, even though Cardan craves not bloodthirst ― particularly that of a loved one, regardless of how badly they have wound him ―, it would be a lie to state that the situation does not resonate with him in the slightest, for whether he wishes to admit it or not, the two share enough similarities.

Like Eva Duarte, Bill is as passionate as he is stubborn and headstrong, and a person of many ambitions since before the Fae entered his life ― ambitions that, even now when they are still in the mortal land tend to be delayed or put on the side, with the most recent example the quest of retrieving the cursed Greenbriar from whichever rainforest he is currently residing ― as well as escaping from the clutches of the many Folk set out to harm them ―, which will undoubtedly draw a wrench in the university classes he ought to attend. Should the writer follow him to Faerie, who is to guarantee that Bill will not grow to eventually regret such decision ? Faerieland is, after all, a cruel and hard place for mortals to inhabit. Who can say for certainty that, like Eva, he will not long for the stability of a normal, mortal life with a mortal partner and a mortal career, and thus leave him behind ?

No matter how badly the brunette might deny it, Cardan understands it is something much likely to happen. After all, Eva had denied it as well and she had longed, and even loved, for Madoc as badly as the writer does for him.

His heart aches at the prospect of a life without the brunette in it yet, he cannot control what is to happen just as he cannot control how to breathe. All he can do, is hope such will not come to a pass.

What is, after all, to be in love if not to constantly live with one's heart exposed ?

❛ We shall all die one day, even creatures that are as immortal as the Folk. Whoever believes otherwise is a fool. ❜ States the Prince, his voice a steady, gentle hum. Bill's old age, he can prevent ― his own decisions, on the other hand, are something much out of his control. As black eyes rimmed in a halo of gold around the irises rise to meet the brunette's brilliant blue ones, a ghost of a smile tugs the corners of his lips upwards ― a smile that, does not quite reach his eyes. ❛ No, I am referring to the possibility that you might one day choose to leave Faerie and myself behind in sight of your other, greater desires. I would understand, were that to happen. Granted, my heart would remain shattered, but I would understand nonetheless. ❜

"i'm afraid you'll break my heart."

@cruelprincae || x

"Why?" Bill couldn't imagine ever doing anything on purpose that would result in Cardan's heart being broken. "Because I'm not immortal and will probably die one day?" It was the only reason he could come up with. Not that he could help the whole dying thing.

The prince, however, had plenty of people that would gladly get Bill out of the way in order to have Cardan to themselves. If anyone would be breaking anyone's heart here, it would be the Fae breaking his.

[crankynewt]

Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

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