#pt I being my watching moon knight

[angel-of-the-moons]

Running With The Wolves

Wolfwalker!Moon Knight (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You're on the verge of being labeled a witch, but can one handsome stranger (and his two "brothers") save you from the same cruel fate as your mother, who was labeled as one and burned at the stake?

Can you handle the truth about your heroes identities, despite it all? Would you find out who your masked savior truly was beneath his cloak?

Only you could answer that.

TW/CW: Witch hunts, violence, graphic violence, graphic death, blood, public execution, parental death, persecution, grief, depression, Wolfwalkers AU, Moon Knight AU, incorrect lore

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I was watching Wolfwalkers and it gave me the idea for the boys. I did a little research into the lore, so some will be inaccurate (my pagan ancestors would frown upon me lmao) as well as historically inaccurate; so what is in this fic is largely based on the film. It will be especially inaccurate because y'know, Marc is American and Jake is Spanish and Steven is English etc, as well as Khonshu being around (but in the comics he's had a Viking Moon Knight so this isn't too far fetched he'd be in a place like Ireland) so please bear with me, my poor mind has been going through it lately and I wanted to write somethin' pointless, so enjoy this weird ass AU I came up with! (Header does not indicate the reader's race!)

Taglist: @enheduannasposts

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

PT. 1

"I heard tha's the girl who lives on the outskirts." You heard a young woman whisper to her friend. Her accent was clearly not from Ireland. She sounded like one of the people from England. They'd been arriving slowly but surely, like a trickle from a leaky bucket, since you were a child.

Your skin prickled as you looked over the vegetables in the market stall, tended to by an old woman who was blind in one eye. Mary, her name was. Mary was probably one of the only around here who was kind to everyone, unless they gave her a reason not to. And those two English girls certainly gave her a reason...

"Aye, ye two hussies best be leav'n this girl be!" She spat, waving her old wooden stick around. "She 'ent done nothin' to ye!"

The two women jumped back with a yelp and scurried off, an armored guard eyeing you and Mary warily.

Your nose crinkled at him and you turned your nose up as you looked back at the crop Mary was selling.

"I'm sorry, lass. I don't like 'em either." Mary said, winking her blind eye at you.

You can't help but smile as you trade some herbs for the vegetables, placing the juicy morsels into your basket. "I just would like for things to go back to the way they were." You sighed.

"Like when I was a girl, before they came to our town. Things were fine, everything was in balance."

Mary leaned in, holding a finger to the sky as she spoke quietly to you.

"Aye, lass. But don't worry. The crimes these English folk are doin' to us? They'll be payin', mark my words! The land, the very sky itself is angry because we can't honor the promises we made so long ago." She grinned, half her teeth missing from old age. "Then, maybe we'll be forgiven."

"Aye, or maybe be consumed by the wolves and the forest while we're at it." You smile sadly. You remembered being safe in those woods as a girl, playing in the creeks, chasing birds and hares, the wolves singing on the breeze...

But the wolf attacks have become ever so common, now. None had been bitten, but their homes had been trashed, their livestock spirited away into the cover of night, wolf tracks everywhere. You were the only one whose homestead was spared. You often wondered why. The only thing different between your little plot and the rest of the homes that were driven empty was... wait.

They were all English.

You weren't. That house you lived in had belonged to your family for nearly half a century. The English farmsteads were placed on the grounds that were cleared by the King's woodcutters and soldiers, they were the ones being attacked. Not you.

But lately, you've heard other tales as well. A "devil in white" the King's men would ramble, their voices shrill with fear. A man in white armor who moved like a ghost, and fought like hell itself. You paid no mind, figuring it may be some hermetic hunter who called the forest home, who simply didn't want to have them invade his solitude.

Maybe--

"Lass, you should get home." Mary said, looking at you with worry as a small gaggle of women whispered and pointed at you. You were used to the stares, you'd been getting them as a child. But since the English arrived, those whispers became accusations.

"Witch."

Your mother had faced a similar accusation, given her odd habits and ways of whispering to the wind.

Some considered her addled, even moreso when she began raving of spirits and the voices she said came from the ground.

You remembered the night that she died, the horrible, evil way that she left this world.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

You were only twelve years old, gripped hard by the local men as the bishop to your village spoke from the Bible, quoting things about the crimes of witchcraft and how your mother could only be cleansed by fire.

You screamed, and kicked, and cried and cursed, but all that earned you was a punch to the gut as they lit the kindling beneath your mother's feet.

You'd heard tales of witch burnings, but you'd never ever thought such horrible deeds would come to your town; your safe, warm little home.

Your mother was strange, yes, but she taught you many things that had proven useful. The best herbs to cure the worst fever, the best tonics to drink to cure an ailing cough, how to track in the woods, how to trust the forest to show you the way home; but only if you respected it as a living being, and respected the souls who lived within.

She wasn't a "witch" to you.

She was your mother.

And she was right in front of you, burning.

"Mummy!" You screamed, your voice sounding as though you swallowed shards of pottery.

She looked at you, and smiled, crying and struggling against the ropes that bound her to the stake.

The fire crept up, up, until it reached her feet.

You could smell it--the acrid, disgusting stench of oil and burning flesh. You could see her skin blister, peel, and burn away as she screamed, begged for mercy. Mercy that the church was not willing to grant her.

You screamed and cried until your throat was raw and bloody, struggling until you broke free of the men's arms.

You didn't think twice on it--you leapt towards the pyre.

Your mother was dead. You knew this. But all you wanted was to hold her one last time, even if all that was left now was blackened, charred flesh.

Your soft, delicate hands burned, your dress beginning to catch aflame as you desperately tried to reach for what little remained of the woman you loved most in the world.

The pain was so blinding, so debilitating that your vision went white around the edges, and you saw the world begin to go dark.

"Damn it--put the girl out!" Was the last thing that you heard before you lost consciousness.

When you'd awoke, it had been two whole days since your mother's trial and burning. Two days since she plead to the "court" about how they were treating the land; that if they didn't change their ways they would all suffer for it.

The first face you saw was the bishop looking down at you with a solemn and sad expression, completely different from the way his eyes had gleamed maniacally as he cheered the death of your mother.

"I'm sorry, dear girl." He said kindly, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Your arms and hands were wrapped in clean linen--or, well, as clean as they could get it, anyway--your burns itching and painful.

You gritted your teeth, feeling hot tears burn as you glared at him, your throat still raw and aching.

"You killed her!" You meant to yell, but it only came out a hoarse croak.

"Aye, girl, I did. But I took no pleasure in it."

Liar. Filthy, disgusting liar! You wanted to shout, You smiled when she screamed!

"Your mother was bewitched by the devil, don't you see? The only way to ensure she could make it to heaven was if she was cleansed by fire." He told you, his wrinkled eyes looking at you with such gentleness you could almost scarcely believe this was your beloved mother's executioner.

"At least now, you know your mother made it to the gates of heaven. And hopefully God finds it in Him to grant your mother eternal peace." He continued, "After all, she loved you greatly, and there is nothing more pure than a mother's love. Even if it was the love of a witch."

You bite back bile that wanted to rise--partly from the pain, partly from disgust--and turned your head away, your tears heavy like chains that hung from your lashes and held your eyes closed.

"So hopefully, we can pray she found salvation and forgiveness in the fact she loved you so."

His hand brushed a lock of burnt hair from your face.

"Don't worry, girl... You can go home. But I must implore you not to give in to the teachings your mother no doubt gave you. None of that talking trees or animals nonsense, you hear?"

You wanted to kick him, to bite his disgusting fingers off and pluck out his eyes. But... all you did was nod, and say:

"I understand."

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Later that night, barring the English women's gossip, you'd had a fairly decent day. Your snare on the edge of the forest had gotten a nice hare; providing you with some nice soft fur and meat and bone.

You'd spent your days thereafter doing much of the same work you'd done since you returned to your empty home the week your mother died. You gardened, placed more snares, cleaned the house, worked the loom, began weaving a small tapestry.

One night, you were broken from your tedium by heavy hands on your door, making you yelp and prick yourself with a needle.

You stuck your bloody fingertip in your mouth and stuffed the tapestry into your heavy wooden chest, rushing to your front door to see what was the trouble.

When you opened it, there was the bishop, flanked by two men in heavy plate armor. You felt a shiver creep up your spine; the sight was eerily similar to the night your mother was taken away, only this time the bishop looked so ancient he looked like a piece of dried, brittle leather.

"Dear girl, thank God you're alright." The bishop breathed, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder.

Your brow creased, and you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to cut you off.

"That... That man, that devil whom the townsfolk here and elsewhere have been seeing--he was here. Tonight! He killed four of the King's finest men!" He said, panicked, his touch cold and clammy.

"And earlier in the day... wolves. A pack of white wolves! I feared for you, girl. I know that you're alone and so far from town." He shuddered a breath. His lungs sounded awful, even to your ears. Honestly... If the man had allowed it, you could have fixed his long coughing illness. He's been suffering for years with it, sometimes to the point where his surmons had to be delivered by proxy.

He was suffering... but so had your mother, whom he murdered in the name of his god.

Your jaw was tight, and you nodded. "I... I see. I haven't been attacked yet, sir. B-but I will keep an eye out and alert you if I see anything strange."

You wouldn't.

"I don't want that devil to hurt anyone else."

You hoped he chased them all away.

He mistook your shaky voice for one of mutual fear for the man that haunted the nights, like the dreaded vampires back in England and the smaller towns and villages.

"Yes, dear girl." He put his hand to your cheek and smiled, his aged features twisting in agony. "A good girl. May God protect you."

"And He, you." You replied, the words tasting like rotten meat on your tongue.

"Such a good girl." He turned, coughing into his hand. "May God help civilise this land..."

Thunder boomed in the distance, almost as if the very sky itself was urging the cruel men on their way, to leave you be.

As soon as your door was closed, you grabbed a nearby cauldron and heaved it over to your hearth, hanging it from the iron hook and dumping the pail of water into it to boil.

You hastily stripped your clothes free and dumped them into the cauldron, rushing to find your small bottles of tonics.

When you'd found the ones you needed, you dumped them, alongside fresh herbs, into the pot with your soaking clothes.

You knew, based on your own observations, that those who coughed often spread it through touch or spit. And he had coughed into his hands and touched you; you simply don't want to take the risk.

You had to start selling your healing tonics "under the table" as Mary said, as cleaning agents for clothes and blankets just so you could pass it to the townsfolk with sick family. You hated doing that, but seeing a sickly child able to run around with her siblings again without fear of that wretched cough was worth the pain of lying.

You watched as the water bubbled, standing naked as you poked at the fabric with your long wooden spoon, swirling it around and around.

Once you deemed it hot enough, you carefully picked up the cauldron and set it on your stone slab at the mouth of your hearth, you scooped some of the herbal water into your wash bucket and began scrubbing at your clothes mercilessly to rid it of any possible sickness.

Once they were clean enough, you hung them near the fire to dry (but not close enough to catch fire while you were asleep).

You felt goosebumps chill your skin as the wind rattled your shutters, so you grabbed a heavy woolen blanket to wrap yourself up in while you dug around for a new linen dress to put on.

It was a small comfort, given how early in the year it was, and these certain storms always brought unseasonably cold weather in their shadow, but you accepted it nonetheless.

You walked over to your wooden chest and pulled out your half-finished tapestry. It was one your mother started when you were barely hip-height; your father, strong and large, next to your mother, petite and soft. Interconnecting between them was you, holding their larger hands in your tiny ones.

Much of it was unfinished, and only within the last year did your grief finally allow you to finish what she started, as this was the only thing left that you had of her. When the church took her away, your mother knew they were coming, so she hid certain things out in the woods for safekeeping, only telling you their whereabouts. Once the church lifted it's eye from you one autumn day, you finally ran out into the clearing your mother hid her things in.

Being able to have something to visually remember your parents by wrenched your heart in a bittersweet way, but it was all you had of them, other than their rings you wore, hidden and slung low beneath your bodice so nobody would see.

You knew if the bishop found out... He would have them all destroyed, burned like your mother; and he would likely have you thrown into the stocks and publicly lashed as punishment.

In a twisted way, the bishop cared for you. He saw you as an innocent, God-fearing girl who had been brainwashed by your witch mother, whom only acknowledged the paganistic "Old Ways".

You hated having to keep up the act, but you didn't want to die. You owed it to your mother and father, wherever their souls were together, to live on.

You blinked, and a heavy teardrop splashed down onto the tapestry.

Your body jolted with the clap of thunder. How long had you been crying? Had you been crying this whole time, but didn't realize it? Oh, you hated how often these crying fits would strike you.

All you wanted to do was think of the happy times with your family, but it always came back to the fact that they were dead and you were alone.

You dropped back onto your bed, the old, dried wood creaking beneath your weight, the smell of the straw mattress stuffed with dried flowers and clovers soothing to your senses.

Your eyes felt heavy, weighted down from your painful thoughts, and you turned your head to look at the wreath above your bed, shamrocks with dried berries carefully strung together; it was something your mother taught you. You couldn't remember the significance of the thing, but making them when you were bored became a mundane comfort.

You closed your eyes and sighed heavily.

You would need to check your snares in the morning.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Your leather shoes squelched in the mud as you carefully made your way to the treeline early that next morning. You nervously chewed the inside of your cheek to check if the coast was clear before venturing into the bushes.

It was early enough none had arisen yet to start the day, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon as you set off into the forest.

Yes, setting your traps beyond the treeline was dangerous, as they would tell you, but you knew the game in the woods was fat and ripe, perfectly full of meat. If you could hunt at all, you would try your aim at shooting one of those slovenly bucks with a bow and arrow.

But a hunter you were not. Trap-maker, yes. But no hunter.

Your tiny iron dagger was slung low on your hip, your mostly-empty wooden sack carrying fresh bait for any snares that were sprung, or if the bait had been snatched.

The first two traps hadn't been sprung, but picked clean, most likely by birds and quick-witted squirrels. No luck in catching anything.

But as you neared your final trap, you heard an odd noise. A wheezing sound, almost, followed by heavy pants and a whimper.

Your footsteps stopped as you peered around the thick trunk of an ancient tree, your breath catching in your throat as you looked at the sight in front of you.

It was your last snare, set up with some bread and berries to lure in a rabbit or squirrel (as was your typical game) but it seems that this time, somehow... you snagged a wolf.

And this was not a normal wolf; it was one with fur as white as the coldest snow, now muddied and stained from the soggy ground it flailed around in; your snare secured firmly around its neck and front paw, cinching the two together in a painful manner.

Your heart broke as you saw the creature struggle and wheeze, choking out quiet howls that couldn't be heard through the underbrush.

With your jaw set tight, you stepped out of the clearing, and the wolf turned to you, trying to limp away.

"Shhh, hush, now." You soothe the animal, your hands out in front of you as you got lower, trying to seem less threatening.

Yes, the townsfolk feared wolves, but you wouldn't just leave this beautiful creature to slowly strangle to death on one of your own traps; your soul wouldn't be able to handle the weight of guilt.

"I won't hurt you, sweetie." You say, your voice calm and soft as you reached out.

The wolf snapped tentatively at you, whimpering as the pain of the cord dug further into its throat and paw, red stains now blotching the white fur.

"It's all right. I won't hurt you..." You urge the panicked animal. Your own eyes locked with its dark brown ones, and you could almost hear its thoughts plead:

Help me. Please. It hurts. Please!

You wait for the wolf to still, and sit its haunches on the ground, those big, pained eyes staring right through to your very soul.

Once the wolf is calm, you hook your fingers through the snare, reaching for the part of it that looped around, and try to loosen it enough for it to slip free.

But to no avail, the amount of flailing the wolf had done had twisted and cinched it to the point you couldn't. Your brow pinched and you nervously chewed the inside of your cheek before unsheathing your dagger.

Upon seeing the glint of the blade, the wolf whimpered and panicked again, beginning to flail once more as you reached for it.

"No!" You say, frantically trying to calm the beast. "Stop! You're making it worse! Please--I'm not going to hurt you."

You grunt as you leap forward, crushing the wolf against you in a bear hug, trying to calm its thrashing body as you swing your sharpened blade through the cord, severing it from the branch it was tethered to.

You sliced your thumb in an attempt to cut the cord around its throat, but you somehow managed it, your blood leaving fresh streaks of red and pink through the wolf's surprisingly soft fur.

You drop your dagger and release the animal, falling back on your bum as you carefully crawl away as the canine heaved for uninhibited air, its barreled chest shaking with effort.

Once it had collected itself, it limped up to you, it cut paw hanging an inch or two above the ground as its wet, charcoal black nose sniffed at your wounded thumb.

Its pink tongue laved out and lapped up your blood, as if to say "sorry" for causing you to injure yourself for trying to aid it.

Your eyes however, were drawn to the cuts into the wolf's throat and paw, oozing small rivulets of blood as it stared at you.

"Oh... You poor..." You breathed, rising to kneel on your knees, dirtying your skirt even more.

"I... Those can get infected. Please. I... I can help you..."

You don't know why you were trying to bargain with an animal, but somehow it paid off. The wolf nosed its way into your lap, ears flattened up and eyes pleading up at you.

"Okay..." You murmur, scratching behind one of its ears. "Let's get you home, boy. I have stuff there that can help ya."

The wolf whimpered.

"Er... Well, I assume you're male?" You chuckle awkwardly, trying to think of how to carry this large and hefty animal back home without being seen.

"I'm not gonna violate you by takin' a peek or anything." You clear your throat when one of the wolf's ears flop as "he" tilts his head at you.

"Er. Okay. Let's go..."

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

It was easier than you thought, getting him back home. As the sun crept higher, the fog and mist were your ally as you smuggled the "dangerous" animal back to the safety of your home.

You had to haul him over your shoulders and beat feet through the underbrush. Once you were safely inside, you had to (with great difficulty) maneuver the wolf down onto your bed.

You chuckled when he rolled over--and he was most definitely a "he"--and began rolling this way and that into your blankets, making small huffs and growls.

"Ah-ah..." You murmur, reaching out to brush your hand through his muddy fur. "You might make your injuries worse, 'kay, m'love?"

That seems to get the wolf's attention. You weren't sure if he could understand you, which honestly had you thinking you were crazy, but the way he sat up and stared at you, one ear flopping down as he looked up into your eyes sent a strange feeling through your body.

"Hmm..." You murmur, brushing your fingers tentatively around his wounded throat. From his muddy thrashing he'd accumulated a fair amount of dirt, and that would lead to infection.

You hike your skirts up and tie them around your waist, and you could almost swear you saw a look of modesty cross the wolf's eyes as his ears slicked back against his head and he buried his muzzle into your warm blankets.

You scratch the back of your head, a little confused at his reaction as you adjust your knickers and rush to gather your herbs you'd need, plucking dried leaves and roots that hung above your hearth.

You set the herbs down into your mortar and pestle and begin to grind them down, mixing them evenly into a dissolvable mass that would melt in the water once you'd boiled it.

You crack your knuckles and grab a pail, untying your skirts and smoothing them out, frowning at the mud stains as you reach for your door, making a "shush" gesture to the wolf.

"Stay quiet and don't go near the windows! It's dangerous if you're seen." You gently urge him before slipping outside into the morning light once again.

The trek to the well was always annoying, but your neighbors never minded you coming to fetch water, knowing how dangerous it could possibly be for you to hike to the creek at the edge of the forest just to get yourself some of the life-giving liquid.

You inwardly cringed when the Kenny's daughter, Aisling, was already at the well; her belly already round with her unborn child. Barely 19 years of age and she was already with a babe; she was often sickly as a child, this you remembered, so her family (namely her husband) was very concerned about her well-being and that of her impending birth.

Upon seeing you approach, Aisling smiled widely and waved at you, saying your name chipperly, almost like an excited morning bird.

You were really hoping not to have a conversation so early, afraid someone would know you were harboring a wolf inside your home...

"Hello, Aisling. Feeling well this morning?" You hum innocently at her as you tie your pail up, before cranking the wench and lowering it down to the water below.

"Yes, surprisingly!" She giggled, patting her belly with a soft smile. "M' little one decided it was a good day to let mummy keep food down."

"That's good! I still recommend broths if you feel nauseous, however..."

"I know, I know. My mum is constantly making sure of that." She sighed with a roll of her eyes, hooking her own two pails of water onto her yoke.

Your hairs raised and you reached out, the wench slipping from your hands and your bucket dropping all the way back down into the water below the earth.

"No! You mustn't lift something that heavy." You caution. "It's not good for your baby."

"Ohhh! You sound like my father." She sighs, frowning deeply, her hands on her hips. "I'm not helpless, y'know!"

"Yes, I'm aware, but--"

"Aisling!" Her husband panted, trotting up to the both of you. He was at least a decade or so older than she was, but nonetheless it was a good match; he seemed to love her greatly. He was English, and one of the few kind ones you've known, in fact. A gentle giant.

This fact was emphasized when his large bulky hand reached down to touch her belly, sighing with relief. "No, no, you know that you can't be out here alone! The wolves!"

"I 'ent seen no wolves!" Aisling pouted up at him.

"That doesn't mean no wolves see you, m'love." He sighed dejectedly at her. He gives you a kind smile and a nod, hoisting the yoke over his own shoulders, "Aye, lass. Glad to see someone else talking some sense into my pretty little wife, here..."

"Bah!" Aisling scoffed, throwing her arms in the air as she waddled back down to their house.

He shook his head with a chuckle, "I swear, if we have a girl and she turns out like her..."

"You'll have your hands full, alright." You sigh, cranking the wench again.

"Aye." He says, giving you a cautious look. "But, I must warn you, the same way I did Aisling... with these wolves about, it's dangerous..."

"I know." You smile. "I'll be fine."

"Alright..." He replies, giving you one last look before going back home to his wife and family.

You on the other hand, rushed back home with your water to your waiting furry companion...

You almost dropped the pail of water when you saw what he was doing. Somehow he managed to nose open up the chest containing your mother's things, and was insistently sniffing the tapestry.

"Ah! No, no, no!" You frantically say, setting the water down to rush over, gently shoving his snout to the side to close the chest.

"Gah..." You sigh in relief, and smile softly at the wolf, reaching out to pinch and squish his cheek. And surprisingly, he took it well, making a little "whurf!" as you do.

"Don't go through my stuff, it's not very polite after I risked my arse you take care of you." You chuckle, setting yourself to task of boiling the water with the ground herbs. You kneel next to the remaining bit of water on the floor, dipping a rag into the pail and making a clicking noise with your teeth.

The wolf tipped his head to the side, ears pricking up at the noise as he slowly moseyed over to you shyly.

"Oh relax, I won't poison ya." You chuckle, dabbing the soaked cloth onto his fur, cleaning him of the muck.

He of course, did not like this. He whimpered and tucked his tail between his legs, his gorgeous brown eyes pleading with you.

"Ah! That won't work on me, Mister... You need to be clean before I can clean your wounds!" You cluck at him, not falling for his cute little attempt.

Thankfully, he sits there and lets you gently massage the mud away, carefully cleaning around his wound sites before hastily grabbing the pot of boiling water and pouring some into a wooden bowl.

You scratch behind one of his ears and say softly, "Now... I'm going to take care of you, okay? Now... just let me..."

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

"No! Down! Bad wolf!" You groan, watching as his tail wagged happily, one of your kirdles firmly in his jaws, daring you to come get it.

"Ooooh! I should have left you in the woods!"

His ears flatten back and his eyes get big, giving you the sweetest, saddest look you've ever seen...

And it definitely broke you.

"Ah... You little... mouth off my clothes!" You grunt, tugging the garment from between his teeth, groaning at the sight of tears from his fangs.

He dropped down onto his front paws, wagging his tail happily as he makes a playful whine and yip.

"Oi! Ya seem just fine now!" You scold the animal, shaking the torn kirdle in front of him.

It was true. In just one day, your furry companion seemed to have healed miraculously faster than what was natural. It concerned you... but you didn't feel threatened by the creature's playful antics.

If anything, having him around made you feel less... lonely.

Dinner was almost ready, a simple stew with vegetables and salted meats tossed in. You weren't sure if wolves could eat such a meal, but you would feel awful if you were eating and your new friend merely had to sit and watch.

You sigh and toss your clothes aside, watching with a snort as the wolf playfully dove for it, rolling around and kicking it with his feet as you used your ladle to scoop two bowls.

You curled your feet beneath you as you plopped a spoon into your bowl before placing the spare on the floor. Your wolf's ears perked up and he sniffed the air, licking his chops as he abandoned your torn-up kirdle in favor of investigating the food you placed for him.

You smiled around your mouthful as he accidentally dipped his nose too deep into the broth, whipping his head around with a heavy snort.

"Ah, that's not how you eat, by the way..." You hum innocently, and again, your wolf gives you an almost human reaction, flattening his ears back as he seems to glare at you for a moment, before lapping at the food, curling his tongue around to eat the bits of veggies and meat.

"Oh, I'd love to keep you, but you don't belong here, fella." You say, scratching his ear softly in an affectionate way. Your skin crawls when you hear a mournful howl travel from the forest, across the fields, and into your house.

Your wolf whimpers and looks at you.

"As soon as you're ready, I'll sneak you back out to the woods." You promise him.

"I won't let anyone hurt you."

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

He looked out from the treeline, his glowing white eyes staring out from the darkness.

A large, fluffy animal--a gorgeous white wolf, fur stained with mud--sidled up next to him, ears flattened back.

"Still no sign of him?" He sighed, frustrated.

The wolf whimpered, his tail tucking and nose dipping towards the ground in a response that seemed to say "no".

"Damn it!" The man roared, his fists balling tight as he began to pace angrily.

"Still no sign of your third?" A deep voice rumbled from the trees.

He lifted his gaze to spot him in all his imposing glory--Khonshu; god of the night sky, the moon, justice and many things in-between. His lithe frame ominously perched on the limb of an ancient, thick tree. One of his legs dangled down while the other supported his arm, his dominant hand clutching his staff in a tight-fisted grip as he stared down at him.

But mostly, he was his fist of vengeance. He was dispensing justice against those who imposed their will on the weak; like the other Englishmen who oppressed the local populace with their threats of jail, execution...

He also had to deal with bandits. Bandits, constantly seemed to prey upon travelers trying to find better places to live, to eke out a livelihood to support their families.

But right now, he was on edge.

He was incomplete. He was missing a vital part of himself. Someone he would not be able to fully function without.

Finally, his tongue unglued itself from the roof of his mouth and allowed him to speak.

"No."

"He is alive. I can feel it." Khonshu sighed, almost sounding bored. "You and your wolves... Sometimes they are a gift... other times it is a curse."

It was true... there weren't many of his kind left, and they were useful as a commodity, but also a vast hindrance if they were separated. Very few were born after being hunted to near extinction, and even fewer still were bitten and turned.

He tipped his head to the side, "He will come back. But until then, we have work to do. There is a group of soldiers that have taken women and children from their homes. I'm sure you can deduce what it is that they intend to do to them. I want you to stop them and set their captives free." Khonshu tapped his staff against the thick bark of the tree, and in a sharp breeze, he vanished.

"Right..." He said, his throat tight; his body thrumming with anxiety, his hand shaking immensely at the strain of lacking such a vital part of himself. He wondered still, if he would be able to control himself, to hold himself back without him.

His wolf companion moved forward, nudging his snout into the palm of his hand, whimpering softly.

Sparing one last glance over the countryside, he made a hefty sigh.

"Where the hell are you?"

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Pt. 2: I will get to it eventually, I swear you guys

Extra super late author's note:

Yeah it's gonna be at least one or two more parts. I am gonna split it up to ease on the scrolling time for you guys! That and it feels neater than cramming so many lazy time skips into one post. I am going to get the rest of my drafts cleared (hopefully) and begin eating away some of those asks I have piled up in my inbox (that Tumblr didn't manage to delete by some miracle...)

My trip might be postponed, dealing with a lot at home, like me almost burning the house down today and almost passing out from the damn smoke because wooooo fire is bad

If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have none whatsoever!

[missyourflight]

some stuff i read and watched in june:

taskmaster (s1-5): haven't done an early seasons rewatch in so long, s4 and 5 are basically perfect 2 me. incredible that mark watson manages to be both my favourite type of taskmaster guy (hopelessly despairing) and also nearly won the thing lol. nish forever obviously

silo: got well into this! probably at some point apple will stop throwing millions at sci-fi shows but i'm going to enjoy their folly in the meantime

mission: impossible ii: hadn't seen this one! the weakest of the lot but the john woo of it all is undeniable

mission: impossible iii: PSH outrageously good as the villain, hi keri russell

mission: impossible - ghost protocol: so much fun, especially the sequences where you can see brad bird's animation brain going

mission: impossible - rogue nation: ILSA my beloved, the opera sequence is so gorgeous, no notes!

mission: impossible - fallout: it's good when henry cavill reloads his arms, it's better when tom cruise is sprinting around london rooftops and breaking his ankle etc, my most basic trait is that i Love when they're in london like oooh tate modern. anyway i'm very ready for dead reckoning

asteroid city: the bits about making art really got to me! the vending machines were cool!

joint security area: crash landing on you prepared me for this, blank check weren't lying when they said it was homoerotic, song kang-ho forever etc

dodie smith, the town in bloom: the most delightful narrative voice i've read in Ages and v funny. easy to sell me on 1920s theatrical shenanigans

k patrick, mrs s: So hot and butch, i liked the butch friendship stuff almost more than the sex stuff. more sexy lesbian novels Please

kj charles, the secret lives of country gentlemen: another winner from KJC, my most reliable romantic comfort reads. this time it's smugglers!

alice slater, death of a bookseller: sticky little thriller about being poisoned by true crime, great sense of place, So many pints of dark fruits

laura kay, wild things: bisexual disaster in love with her best friend, tragically very me- and also george russell-coded, god i want to swim in a pond again

SOME STUFF I SAW AT ROCK WERCHTER

the dj on the first nigt who played a mash up of i'm gonna be (500 miles) into temperature and then the 1d cover of one way or another into little lion man (deeply cursed fandom flashbacks etc)

weyes blood with candelabras and glowing hearts and amazing adam curtis projections on the big screen behind her

king princess sending the gay girls of belgium absolutely wild - "you wanna hear a sad lesbian song?"

matty healy is a dickhead but he's very good at being the frontman of the 1975. like if ben whishaw was straight and kind of disgusting

stormzy!!! literally the rain was pouring during blinded by your grace pt 2

mumford and sons - this whole festival was like being borne back ceaseless into the past but the cave still fucks me up, marcus really in his ken marino era, face-wise

PUP - i do believe if this tour doesn't kill you, i will to be a wholly perfect song, they had a trans flag on stage, best vibes of the festival

sigur ros - sometimes you just want to be in a massive barn with thousands of people with your faces turned up in the dark feeling like you're inside the sound somehow

muse - fucking incredible live band still!! every time i'm see them i'm floored by how hot chris the bassist is and then i forget about it and then i see them again and i'm poleaxed etc. they had a tech meltdown during knights of cydonia at the encore so we got showbiz instead!!

christine and the queens - beautiful and terrible as the dawn

jacob collier - asked if we wanted to get funky then put on a special hat, bit george russell-coded in the face

arctic monkeys - sometimes you just want to be in a field with one of your oldest friends singing the songs of your youth!! i love the 70s act actually! there are so many sexy songs on AM!! the skies finally cleared for the beautiful full moon, thank you belgium, good night

[enigmatist17]

Master List

Stuff that I'm proud of that I'd like to share with newcomers!

I barely used tumblr "seriously" until last year, and fully intend to do so going forward <3

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

Moon Knight

Catch me thinking about what Steven does with his postcards

Steven taming werewolf!Jack <3

Jack being afraid of his other half

Werewolf in London? (Steven meeting Jack for the first time)

The Morning After (sequel)

Scarab (MKtober #4)

Me gushing over MK for the first time

Game time with Steven

Cold days in Steven's flat

Jake and Cassian

Moon Boys and Spider-Man

Marc and Jake bonding <3

Phase 4 thoughts

Moon Boys and Lego games

Sleeping in the mindscape

Moon Boys and watching Andor

Marc's T&C reaction

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

Law and Order

Falling in love with Munch at the beginning <3

First thoughts

Hearing LMAO explained >.<

A good Unstabler and Tutuola moment

Detective Munch in uniform

Cragen undercover

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

Star Wars

Blind Loyalty

Just watched Umbara

YOU'RE TELLING ME

Poe Dameron my love

My poor clone children

:(

Tech promo pic

After I watched S1 of Bad Batch

Bad Batch thoughts

Echoing Words

Diego Luna being adorable

What happened after Scarif

Cassian and Marc

Cassian and Andor

I finished Andor

Clone Conspiracy (Spoilers)

Truth and Consequences

They don't break

They didn't have to kill Gregor

When Cody defects

Tech lives

I ship Kallus and Zeb?

Mayday lives

Tech lives pt 2

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

Benoit Blanc

Marta Cabrera getting a phone call

I'm sorry but the little whimper...

Father figure Benoit Blanc <3

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

The Last Of Us

A day turned into a week

Frank doesn't know how to shoot

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

Destiny 2

Tribute to Lance Reddick

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

Stardew Valley

Helping Hand

[starplusfourletters]

A list of all the historical images in that scene in Enterprise: Storm Front Pt 2

WHAT IS THE THESIS OF THIS COLLECTION I’ve lost sleep over this

Source video at ¼ speed:

So I went frame by frame on that scene in ENT s4e02 where Archer and Daniels are chatting and the timeline is “resetting itself” and this is every image they chose to represent Earth’s approximately 4.5 billion years of history, in order of appearance:

A fish

Lightning

A dividing cell

A dinosaur

A volcano

A cliff face

A cave painting of a horse

Stonehenge

A human fashioning some kind of tool

The pyramids

People carrying spears

Easter Island heads

Someone riding in a chariot

Egyptian art

A DIFFERENT guy riding in a chariot

Capitoline Wolf (the Romulus and Remus statue)

A couple cloaked guys riding horses

A knight jousting on a horse (like seriously you can stop with the horses we get it)

Some people with torches

The Vitruvian Man

A guy with a funny hat and a cross I *think* is Martin Luther

Some Pilgrims

Some kind of clipper ship

A 1800s guy with a quill and idk my heart tells me this is supposed to be Frederick Douglass

A guy at a piano (Beethoven??)

A battlefield I think? Maybe Napoleonic?

Some Black people in 1700s dress? I got nothin on this one

Washington crossing the Delaware

Betsy Ross (assumedly) sewing the goshdang American flag. The first-ever woman. Accurate

Buffalo

Teepees

People in a canoe. I’ve decided all I’m gonna say about these last three is “oof”

A ballroom dance (possibly antebellum)

Lincoln signing something (I assume the Emancipation Proclamation)

Confederate soldiers with a canon

Thomas Edison

An old oil well (like one of the triangular ones)

A train

A Model T car

The Wright brothers’ plane

Teddy Roosevelt

Lenin giving a speech

Woodrow Wilson (?) with troops

Trench warfare

A WWII plane

Winston Churchill

Hitler

FDR

Paratroopers

An atomic bomb

The KKK

A larger military-looking plane

A man watching a TV

JFK and Jackie

A guy with a rifle (Vietnam?)

A civil rights protest sign

The moon landing

An Apollo rocket

A guy at some kind of computer or typewriter

Nixon

From context I want to say Mao but it’s just the back of his head

A peace protest

Jimmy Carter being sworn in

A more modern military jet (first with the horses, now with the planes)

Ruhollah Khomeini / the Iranian hostage crisis (that took a little Wikipedia-ing)

George H. W. Bush being sworn in

A nuclear reactor

Margaret Thatcher

A space shuttle

Tiananmen Square

George H. W. Bush shaking hands with Gorbachev. This one took me an embarrassingly long time because I’d convinced myself a red flag with a hint of yellow at the corner had to be Chinese

Some kind of space or sea exploration coded device? I’m going to call this the Hubble Space Telescope so I can stop googling

Military looking guy? Iran-contra is all I can think of but it’s not Oliver North

Saddam Hussein

Someone with a laptop

Someone putting a CD into a drive

The Clintons

Some kind of space shuttle or boat? This one might be fictional not sure

A guy waving his arm around? This one’s driving me nuts. I’m not even sure if it’s a kid or an adult. Am I supposed to recognize this?? I’m gonna call it the fall of the Berlin wall even though that’s not in the right chronological order

Best guess is George Bush and Tony Blair

9/11. 9 freaking 11. The mad lads put that in there in the year of our Lord 2004.

A Middle Eastern looking guy with a gun

A weird lookin car – I assume it’s electric or something

The ISS

A Mars rover (or some kind of drone thing)

A CGI cityscape

ANOTHER CGI cityscape

The Enterprise at spacedock

The small Xindi weapon destroying Florida

Archer running through the exploding Xindi weapon

The Xindi weapon blowing up

And there ya have it folks that’s the timeline

Like. I don’t even know where to start. This is amazing. I want to meet the summer intern who took a high school world history course and then made this.

For those keeping score that’s three women outside of crowd shots; love that for them. That’s the same number of images of guys named George Bush in this thing. I can’t even begin to question why the TEMPORAL COLD WAR RESET is so Earth centric when it’s spending all its time being AMERICA centric, except for yadda-yaddaing over everything that happened after 2004 – which includes warp drive and at least ONE world war, right? I guess I could believe that this is Archer’s splice cut of the History of the Universe which would honestly explain a lot about him. But WHY DOES THE FISH COME BEFORE MULTICELLULAR LIFE

Apologies if someone already did this but I personally needed to know

[snippychicke]

I posted 3,326 times in 2022

That's 2,736 more posts than 2021!

166 posts created (5%)

3,160 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@avellanas-nutty-empire

@raelwrites

@tshuuls

@skymoonandstardust

@bunjywunjy

I tagged 133 of my posts in 2022

#fanfic - 44 posts

#mairimashita! iruma kun - 35 posts

#khonshu - 33 posts

#welcome to demon school iruma kun - 33 posts

#khonshu x reader - 31 posts

#moon knight - 31 posts

#khonshu moon knight - 31 posts

#khonshu marvel - 30 posts

#mcu moon knight - 29 posts

#balam shichiro - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#i am thissss close to just abandoning everything and finding a new place to start over.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

~☽ Moonstone ☾~ (Pt. 3)

Fandom: Moon Knight(TV)

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

Pairing: Khonshu/Reader (unnamed cis!female)

Warnings: Angst. GRAPHIC MATERIAL. 18+ READERS

Summary: Before Marc and Steven, before Arthur, Khonshu had another avatar. Well, hundreds of thousand of others, but this is the story of one in particular that Khonshu was fond of.

Far more than a god should be towards his avatar. Especially when that god isn’t exactly known for his kindness or love.

On AO3| Masterpost

If I missed removing an html tag, sorry. See the post-chapter notes on A03 for ramblings.

You knew Khonshu was here. In London. And it was driving you insane.

Your job took you traveling, and then the volunteer work you did on the side even more so. You knew there was a slight, tiny possibility that someday, you would cross roads with your replacement. Or maybe Khonshu would see you under the light of the moon as you did your work. Work that followed his creed. 

Justice to the innocent. Protecting the travelers, especially those who traveled by night. And well, maybe a beat down on any idiots you crossed paths with. 

You may still have an issue with picking fights whenever you were frustrated. You blamed the virtual habit on Khonshu after throughout college. It was his answer to everything. Tired of studying? Go find a fight. Mad about not being able to comprehend part of the material? Find someone to punch in the face. Just tired of your life in general? He’d whisk you away to where you felt like you found your purpose. 

Except, being the knight of an ancient moon god didn’t pay the bills. Even when you were tempted to put on forms that you were a member of a clergy, technically. 

(You did, once, and having to explain you were a servant of the ancient Egyptian god Khonshu and the leader of his virtually non-existent cult, did not go over well.)

Though he had reassured you later on that back in ancient times, you wouldn’t have to worry about such things. You would have been honored and revered as his Avatar, seen as a sort of goddess yourself. You had crabbed that it hadn’t helped your mood, but it did. A little. Mainly because he dropped more than a few compliments during his little speech. And shortly afterwards, had found trouble to settle with your fists. 

But you had found him here, in London. Knew his avatar must frequent, if not work, in the museum. The blessing he had given you when you parted had drawn you there. It flared brightly in your chest as you toured the exhibits, filling you with a similar warmth as when you were his avatar. It was such a bittersweet feeling, and you couldn’t let it go. 

Yet, you had yet to encounter anyone with the same accent as the new knight you met that night. Did he work behind the scenes? He had to be around the gift shop, as strong as it was there, but the only one was Steven, who was a sweetheart to be sure, but definitely not the kind of person Khonshu would choose. He would look for someone who didn’t embody the whole ‘apologize when soup was spilled on them’ idiom. 

You wondered if Khonshu himself was ever there when you were. Did he sulk in the shadows, watching you as you studied the artifacts, judging them against the stories he told? Could he feel you the same way you felt his power? Did he know you were there because you knew he was somewhere nearby? Or had he even noticed it was you? Or were you just another face in the crowd now? 

No, he was there that night when you met his new knight. His avatar even mentioned that Khonshu was happy to see you. You thought you had almost felt his touch, but you might have just imagined it too, so desperate to be near him.

You missed him. Heavens, you missed him so much. It had been a few years, and you still cried regularly because of the hole he left in your chest. You had befriended, flirted, even had sex with more than a few people over the years, yet none of it could compare to him. Even the most fantastic sex that left you thoughtless and feeling like jelly didn’t fill that craving for him. 

The mundane was just that, mundane. Why had it seemed so alluring back then? You would give it up in such an instant to be by his side again, to feel that link, to see his bony head, his form towering over everyone else. 

So, maybe, just maybe, you were being silly when you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you after hearing rumors of some weird cult in the Alps worshiping Ammit of all deities. 

Like, did they not even do a brief scroll through wikipedia? Or any article on the subject? You found it hard to think multiple people found a heart-devouring goddess something to worship. The ancient Egyptians feared her rather than revered her. She could destroy the soul, so it never had peace in the Afterlife, or even a second chance to make things right.  

You obviously didn’t jump at Arthur Harrow’s invite, the leader of Ammit’s cult. He had apparently heard your inquiries through the grapevine and approached with an offer to ‘learn for yourself the promises of Ammit.’ You didn’t know which was scarier, his words or the fact that he seemed to offer them like the christian gospel. 

Maybe it was because he was completely unaware of how much of a threat the goddess had been in the past. How hard Khonshu and the other gods had fought generations ago to save the world from her and her relentless hunger. Because surely, if he knew the truth of Ammit, he wouldn’t be talking in such a way.

But it was those same thoughts that led you to finally accept. Just so you could see if they were a group of delusional fanatics that posed no harm, or a bunch of delusional fanatics that somehow did have the potential to bring back the evil goddess. 

You didn’t know what you’d do if they were the latter.

---

See the full post

320 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

#4

So, here are a few edited drabbles I was going to post later, But I'm going to post now to see how my dear readers react. (I have to admit, it feels more comfortable writing in this perspective again.)

~~~

Khonshu crouch on your desk, the lights flickering, wind making the pages of your notebook and texts flip wildly. In other words, having a tantrum of godly proportions because you told him no.

You just glared at him, arms crossed, and unamused. “I have to study, Khonshu. Otherwise I’ll fail.”

“Don’t argue with me, impudent child,” he thundered, slamming his staff on the ground. “Your studies mean little compared to your pact with me.”

“My god, you are like a freaking cat, wanting attention at the worst possible times.”

“I am not a cat!” He roared, the lights flickering even more violently. “I am the god of vengeance! And you are my avatar! My voice, my fist! And you will do as I say!”

“Let me at least finish reading this chapter, then we’ll go do whatever you want! But I swear, if I fail my exam tomorrow, I’m kicking your ass!”

He was silent for a moment before the lights finally steadied, the wind calming. “Very well, I will accept that compromise.”

“Oh, so I can kick your ass?”

He huffed dryly. “You’re so tiny, you would never be able to reach, small one.”

"You're an asshole. So are you going to get off my books or not?”

~~~~

You didn’t remember everyone you killed, not unless they stood out. Like the cannibal that preyed on the homeless of the city, the stench that filled the murder food-truck and had you swear off meat for a long time afterwards. Or when Khonshu whisked you away, to some assholes that were targeting refugees crossing the border at night as if they were game animals.

The rest of them just faded in your memory. But what never faded was those you saved. You remembered the kids that clutched to your as you saved them, bawling into your cape. Others bowed and prayed to you, calling you an avenging angel, or praising you as goddess. You remembered the little old lady that recognized you were just a young woman, and pulled you down to press a kiss to your masked forehead, blessing you and praying for the heavens to continue protecting you. Or the man that was some kind of priest or other religious figure who put a blessing on you, chanting in a forign language as he poured out water upon your hood.

Each one just cemented your belief that what you were doing was right. Even when you could hear the echo of bones snapping, the white linen of your cape dipped in blood, that choked gasp of a final breath. The gurgle of someone drowning in their own blood haunting you every time you hear a fountain bubble.

And then there was Khonshu who welcomed you back each time, praising your work and filling that need for acceptance and approval. He was the first, the only one, for whom you didn't have to act differently. You had to behave for your parents, hide your interests that weren’t socially appropriate from your acquaintance-like friends because those you had called friends in the past teased and ridiculed your interests.

He had caught you dancing to your music without a care, or eating a spoonful of icing right from the tub, and didn’t give the slightest care. You could tell him horrid jokes, or whatever thing you were interested in, and he’d listen more often than not. You became more and more of yourself in his presence, feeling yourself finally free and open as he accepted everything.

It was no wonder you fell in love.

It was no wonder it broke you so much when he left.

332 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

#3

~☽ Moonstone ☾~

Credit @natashowlet for the header image, I edited it just enough to ruin it with words

Fandom: Moon Knight(TV)

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

Pairing: Khonshu/Reader (unnamed cis!female)

Warnings: GRAPHIC MATERIAL FOR THOSE 18+

Underage readers, this is your notification that this is not content you should read.

Other warnings include: massive amounts of angst and other emotions. Asexual writer attempting smut. Violence. Bloodshed. Purple prose. Non-linear story telling. Liberal amounts of foul language. Misusing Egyptian mythology as inspiration. Soul Sex and other metaphysical shit. I also am barely acquainted with the comics.

Summary: Before Marc and Steven, before Arthur Harrow, Khonshu had another avatar. Well, hundreds of thousand of others, but this is the story of one in particular that Khonshu was fond of.

~☽ O ☾~

Before Series: Snippets featuring Reader as Khonshu's Avatar, listed mainly in chronological order

Part One: I don't know how else to put this. The drabble that started it all. Non-linear and jumps around**Smut**

Friday the 13th: Scary movies? Confused Khonshu? Subtle flirting? Yep.

Part five Before series goes here

Hallucination: Khonshu cheers Reader up... sorta. In his own way. (not really intending to, tbh)

Untitled 1: a prompt by @rebeccakitty; Reader has menstural cramps, and Khonshu helps her with them (After a little bit of grumbling)

Untiled 2: While The first Drabble belongs early time wise, the second belongs late. So we'll place it smack dab in the middle.

Untitled 3: What can I say? Soft moment between you and Khonshu. Just pure fluff

(Part Three's Before-Series goes here)

(Part Four HERE)

Untitled 4: Khonshu and Hathor have a talk

(Part Six Here)

~☽ O ☾ ~

During Series: The main body? of the story? IDK, it's after Marc agrees to become Khonshu's avatar.

Part Two: The Bridge between Before and During series. Angst.

Part Three: Part of episode one, part before-series Smut.

Part Four Just a direct sequel of part Three. This will not happen much.

Part Five : Yep, we following the series. Started my own foreshadowing though! Before series part is early in the days of the Former Avatar's days as the Moon Knight.

Part Six: Huge chapter. With Smut! And plot! Can you ask for anything more?

See the full post

373 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#2

~☽ Moonstone ☾~ (Pt. 2)

Fandom: Moon Knight(TV)

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

Pairing: Khonshu/Reader (unnamed cis!female)

Warnings: Angst. ANGST ANGST

Summary: Before Marc and Steven, before Arthur, Khonshu had another avatar. Well, hundreds of thousand of others, but this is the story of one in particular that Khonshu was fond of.

Far more than a god should be towards his avatar. Especially when that god isn’t exactly known for his kindness or love.

Now we introduce the other (known) Avatars to each other! Say hi to Stevie, Marc, and Harrow!

(on Ao3) | (Pt. 1 **MATURE CONTENT**) | Moonstone Masterlist

Many years later, after switching majors, retaking a few classes because you failed because of your nightly duties, you graduated. Not at the top of your class, but with enough promise, you could start your career in your chosen field. And even though his power and suit kept you from being completely sleep-deprived as you worked all day and most of the night, he could see, he could feel it wear on you. He could see that your purposeful separation from your peers was once again causing cracks in your morale. Being friendly but continually turning down any interactions after work, no matter how benign.

He didn’t want to leave you and find a new avatar, and knew that you didn't want it either. Anyone else and he wouldn’t’ve cared how tired and worn they were. Their one small brief life was nothing amongst the countless lives that they protected. 

But you weren't just any of his avatars, you were so, so much more to him. Over the years, he had come to love you unlike any other being, which was very much against the Ennead's judgements. Having human lovers was one thing, but the way he bonded with you was quite another. 

And he couldn't let them know. 

And then the mere thought that if you left him, hating him for the wreck he left your life in, was agony. No, he’d do something he hadn’t done more than a handful of times in the past. 

He’d leave first. To protect you, as well as himself. 

---

You found yourself standing among pillars of limestone, facing a magnificent temple carved into the stone cliff. The moon hung full and heavy in the night sky, the stars and milky way painting the darkness in absolute beauty. 

There was no doubt where you were, not with Khonshu’s likeness carved on either side of the temple. But it was more why and how that wandered through your mind as you walked slowly towards the entrance. Last you remembered was crashing on your couch, intent on getting a bit of a cat-nap before the sun set, and it was time for your second job to begin. 

Torches lit themselves as you approached, not with red-yellow flames, but pearlescent white-blue that seemed unnatural yet fitting for the moon god’s temple. 

Inside was just a breath-taking. Impossibly large and cavernous, a window carved out to allow the moonlight to shine in. The pure-white limestone and marble reflected and magnified its light. But the massive statue of Khonshu caught your breath before you, dressed not in mummified wrappings, but in the dress that the other gods and goddesses of the Egyptians were known for. A silver disk of the full moon sat upon his skull, his staff a golden crescent in his hand. 

“It was quite a sight back in the day,” his voice echoed softly as he appeared beside you. “Those mortals’ ability to carve stone in such a way impressed even me.” 

“Is this a dream?” you asked, looking up at him. Yes, the statue was beautiful, but you felt it was still inadequate. You preferred him wrapped in gauze, his tattered robe flowing freely in the breeze, the yellowed bone of his skull tilted slightly as he focused on you. The statue was cold, imposing. And he was…

Well, imposing, but not cold. Not anymore. 

“More or less. Your body is asleep, but your mind… Well, it’s complicated to explain where we are.” 

You rolled your eyes and nudged him slightly. “You’re just taking the easy way out.”

Instead of an affronted huff as you expected, he sighed heavily. “...In more ways than one, my dearest. I’m afraid it is time that we part ways.” 

Your heart caught in your throat as you looked up at him, “W-what? Now? Why? Did… did I do something wrong? I’ve been trying my hardest, I swear, but I’ll try harder. Please, Khonshu…”

“Shh,” he hushed as he knelt down, setting his staff on the floor so he could cup your face in both his hands. “My beloved, it is nothing that you have done. You have walked with me longer than most, and if fate allowed, I would have you by my side for the rest of eternity.” 

“Then why?” you whispered, clasping your fingers around his wrists. “I don’t—I don’t want you to leave me. I love you, in every way Khonshu. Please don’t leave me.” 

This was killing him. Khonshu pressed his head against yours, able to feel your tears fall and bless the bone of his skull. He couldn’t do this being so physically close to you, where the bond was its strongest. Even now, despite being on the astral plane and that bond connecting him to you was but a ghost of itself, he could feel you all too clearly. 

See the full post

511 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

~☽ Moonstone ☾~ (Part One)

Fandom: Moon Knight(TV)

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

Pairing: Khonshu/Reader (unnamed cis!female)

Warnings: Violence, death, angst, oh, and smut.

Summary: Before Marc and Steven, before Arthur, Khonshu had another avatar. Well, hundreds of thousand of others, but this is the story of one in particular that Khonshu was fond of.

Far more than a god should be towards his avatar. Especially when that god isn't exactly known for his kindness or love.

**Warning**Mature Content. If you're underage, go else where.

Link to Moonstone on Ao3 | Moonstone Masterlist

You were a hot-headed young woman with a deep sense of justice, so it was only fair he offered you his powers on that fateful moonlit night. You were covered in bruises, blood seeping from your various wounds, but still stubbornly standing while the three would-be muggers fell at your feet. They had been armed with knives, outnumbered you, but while you had been armed with nothing but broken metal pipe and pure determination, you had defeated them. 

He could tell you were moments from meeting Anubis, but yet you still held his 'gaze' defiantly. He wondered if you could even see through the quickly swelling black eye, or understand what you were seeing. 

Granted, what mortal did when he first chose them? 

"Accept my gift, become my knight, and dole justice to more cretins like this," he spoke as he knelt down to your level. "In return, I will always protect you and heal your wounds."

You didn't flinch as his hand touched your face, reversing the damage done. The discoloration fled as the swelling faded, and he could see your eyes.Even as you took in his true visage, shock and surprise fluttering across your face, there wasn’t a hint of fear.

Something told him you would prove to be a worthy avatar. 

"Okay, weird hallucination," you finally agreed, trying discreetly to rub your healed jaw and hide your amazement. "I'll accept your gift. Hopefully, it'll at least keep me from a headache in the morning."

You suffered no pain when you woke the next day, though you did scream when he appeared while you ate your breakfast.

~☽☾~

You were the best avatar he had in such a long time, eagerly taking breaks from your studies (why study anatomy in a book when you could break someone's actual zygomatic bone) whenever he called. You quickly became his loyal companion as you walked next to him as an equal, basking in the moonlight. He enjoyed your discussions about everything and anything as you watched over those traveling at night. Bickering and bantering as he followed you down dark alleyways in chases. Or the moments he stole your breath as his wind carried you across rooftops when you tried to keep up with him. 

The ceremonial suit hugged your curves, protecting its softness from their prey. He could feel you through their shared power; that feminine softness hiding powerful muscles and an even stronger heart. Your weapon of choice mimicked his staff, balancing you as you planted your feet in the faces of criminals. He felt honored by your graceful swings and strikes, looking like a beautiful crane in a deadly dance. A dance for only him to enjoy as he called up the wind, both protecting and embracing you.

 A dance where you more often than not ended in his arms, catching your breath. Euphoria apparent in your eyes as you met his gaze, your head uncovered by his mask and hood so you could enjoy the cool night breeze against your heated skin. 

"Thank you." You'd grin up at him, your back braced against his chest as you looked up. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, but squeezed his staff tight instead. "Thank you so much for this life."

"I should thank you for your devotion, small one," He murmured. He took the chance to brush your hair from your eyes, relishing in the small touch he allowed himself despite wanting more. 

You were his Avatar. Fist of Justice. Protector of Travelers. His weapon filled with power to unleash vengeance on the world. 

Yet what he felt for you was far too soft for such titles. 

~☽☾~

He appeared in your small apartment, ready to whisk you away for a night of work. Typically, you relished the chance, usually otherwise stuck studying thick tomes of the modern era. Or having fallen asleep with them as a pillow. 

Instead, music filled the darkened place, lit by a sparse collection of candles. The wind flickered the flames as he passed; the smoke catching in the small whorls. 

He had no difficulty finding you. It was like a strand connected them, pulling him closer and closer. He could be in the Overvoid, and you could be anywhere on Earth, and he would find you in a heartbeat.

He froze, however, when he found you slowly dancing in the moonlit living room, a bottle of alcohol in one hand, dressed in some gauzy housecoat and underthings. The scene enraptured him, like watching a firefly dancing in the reeds of the Nile, so beautiful and haunting.

See the full post

702 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[fiction-is-the-new-reality]

Pt 1: Searching for Spector

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, language, afab!reader

summary: You’re asked by Fury to track down Moon Knight and keep an eye on him.

second part here

a/n: this is basically just setting things up for the next part. I didn’t want to put too much in this first part because it felt like it was too long winded. Pls reblog and interact and give feedback!! Thank you!

Even though Fury “retired” and made it seem like he wasn’t involved in the matters of heroes anymore, he still stayed up to date with new candidates and threats. Which is why when a new vigilante appeared in an all-white suit and used magical moon-shaped weapons, he believed it warranted close attention.

This is where you come in. As one of his recruits (and closest friend according to you) he trusted your skill set to keep an eye on this “Moon Knight” and stop him if needed.

Walking into Fury’s man cave is like walking into a mini Avengers compound, full of weapons and security footage of different locations. The man himself sat in a chair at the head of a table.

“Jesus Fury, paranoid much?” The joke was met with an unamused face.

“Can’t be too safe these days. Without Shield or the Avengers, there are a lot of people who think it’s a free-for-all. I like to remind them that there are still heroes out there.” His words make you wonder who else he’s worked with recently.

“I have a mission for you. There’s a new man on the scene. Dressed in a white hooded get-up, and goes by the name Moon Knight. Seems to be supernaturally powered.” He presses a button on a remote, filling the screens with sightings of Moon Knight. You watch his fighting style and try to learn his rhythm. But it was difficult. In some videos, the fighting style differs completely from the others. It looks like two different people.

He turns to you. “I want you to track him. Figure out why he’s doing what he’s doing.” He stares at you, waiting for a response.

“Are we sure it’s just one guy? His technique switches in some of the videos.” You say out loud, but it’s more rhetorical than anything.

“Meet Marc Spector. Born in Chicago, the son of a rabbi. Enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps and served for three years. While in a fugue state, he went AWOL, got discharged because of it. The last he was seen was with Raoul Bushman. While Spector is a little harder to get on camera, we know Bushman’s last known whereabouts are in Egypt. He’s not the type of guy you have as a friend. If our guy runs with him, it could mean trouble.”

The image that pops up throws you off. You lean on the table, getting closer to the screen. He’s beautiful. He looks like nothing you were imagining. His brown eyes have sadness and something mysterious about them. His dark brown curly hair was somewhat frizzy and his jawline was so sharp it could cut diamonds.

“Bushman isn’t my concern here. Get to Marc and figure him out.”

“I got a guy who owes me a favor in Egypt. I’ll see if he’s heard about Bushman. When do I leave?”

“Now,” He slides an envelope across the table. Inside is a passport, some currency, and a picture of Bushman. “You’re going in deep. The reason for this stays between us.”

“Of course, Fury, this ain’t my first rodeo.” You boast with a slight smile. He rolls his eyes and while his tone is dry, you don’t miss the slight smile on his face as he tells you to leave.

Before you take the intel and step out, you turn back to Fury.

“Why are you trusting me to do this?”

He looks at you for a second before answering. “Sage you’ve always been skilled at what you do. You’ve always gotten the job done. I don’t think there’s been one person you haven't been able to take down. When I got back from being dusted, I learned about what you occupied your time with during the Blimp. I saw the footage.” He pauses for a moment. You hold your breath as you wait for him to finish.

“It was you, but you were different. You’ve changed. Gotten a sharper edge to you now. That’s what I need nowadays. I’ve seen the way this guy handles business, and I need someone I know that can stop him.”

You let out the air in your lungs as you grab the envelope off the table. You give Fury a small smile before turning to leave.

Reaching out to your connection pays off. He gives you the name of a club that Bushman frequents and that he had been seen at a few weeks ago. You waste no time after landing. It’s late and this is prime time for a crime-lord to be out. Taking a taxi, you find yourself in front of a seedy club.

The heat of the building is enough to make you feel like you’re suffocating. The music’s so loud that it’s thumping in your ears. You take note of the shady characters lurking around the club. Trying not to draw attention, you quickly get to the bar and order a drink. You watch the crowd as you wait for Bushman. You’ve moved on to a second drink and have opted to watch from a small table towards the front of the bar.

When the back door of the club swings open you have no doubt that it’s Raoul Bushman. He’s massive, and the look in his eyes tells you that he has no problem dirtying his hands. People like him always have that look in their eyes, like they could snap at any moment. You sink further into your seat to be certain he wont see you. You’ve already formed a plan. You'll follow him out of the bar. Maybe he'll lead you to Moon Knight. Or at least find you a better lead. Someone who knows where Marc Spector has gone.

The night drags on as you watch him drink and get friendly with a few women.And while the place is full of criminals, the atmosphere isn’t hostile. You decide to leave and wait outside. The longer you stay in there, the more likely he is to notice your face. As you debating going outside, you hear him mention to his men to be ready to leave soon. You take that as a sign to leave.

Outside, the streets prove to be much quieter. You breathe in deep, trying to get as much air as possible after being in the stuffy club. Once you feel you can breathe properly again, you take in the full moon and how it washes everything in an almost unnoticeable sheen of silver. Walking across the street you blend in with a crowd at a food truck as you wait for them to exit.

A few moments later, the door swings open as Raoul and some of his men leave the club. You keep your back towards them, and use your enhanced hearing to know what they're doing. As they all walk towards the parked cars, you make your way back across the street.

Back in the same lot with them, you swiftly move around cars and avoid the drunken fools wandering outside. Quickly pressing yourself against a truck that wasn’t too close to them, you hold your breath to hear them. Bushman stands at the head of the circle, his men flanking his side.

He begins to speak to the men, discussing their upcoming mission and the approach to obtain their reward. He doesn’t mention Moon Knight or Marc Spector; he doesn’t even hint at them having any added help from someone who is superly inclined. The meeting quickly ends and everyone starts making their way to their cars.

Silently crawling away and doing some peekaboo from behind cars, you spot Bushman’s car. Crouching down, you pull the small tracker gun out of your pocket. Loading the tag and setting the tool up on the ground gives you the perfect shot at the tire. As you focus the scope and breathe out, you hear a small tink as the tracker leaves the barrel.

It emits a small yellowish glow, like the glow of a firefly, before it attaches to the tire. You slink into the shadows of the night as he climbs into the car and wastes no time driving off. Gravel and sand fly into the air as the tires spin. Now all you have to do is wait for him to stop moving and see if he’s led you straight to Moon Knight.

After Bushman has sat in one spot for long enough, you hail a taxi and give an address up the street from his location. The location on the device leads you to a small lodging place on the outskirts of the city. It’s close to the vast desert that you can see the silhouettes of the pyramids looming behind the little shack.

Wanting to get a feel for the little area, you begin to sneak around. Making sure that the only patrolmen are the ones who are all drinking and smoking a funny-smelling cigarette. You stay close to the ground as you get closer to the men.

Coming up behind them, you quickly disarm the two with guns. In one swift motion, you snatch the gun from one and deliver a forceful strike to the owner’s head with the stock. He stumbles backward and you send him tumbling backwards with a kick to the chest. The other one with the gun tries to point it at you but his moving too slowly and it’s comical how easily you disarm him. Taking hold of the barrel of the gun, you shove it at him, hitting him square in the chest. You pull the weapon towards you, which brings the man who is still holding on to it. As he enters your personal space, you slam your head into him. He quickly drops the gun to hold his broken nose. But before he can, you backhand him, knocking him out.

You’re moving too quickly for the other two to call for help. Grabbing one by the collar of his shirt, you drive him down on the ground, before picking him back up and throwing him a few feet into the desert. You watch him to see if he’ll get back up, but he doesn’t. He just lays there, sprawled out like a starfish. The last remaining guy tries to put up a fight, but you drop into a squatting position and sweep your leg under his. Once he lands on his back, you straddle him. You position your hands firmly over his mouth and nose, cutting off his oxygen. A few moments pass and finally, he falls unconscious.

Making it to the back of the small building, you jump up to grab ahold of the edge. Latching your hands on you pull yourself up on the roof as quietly as possible. You hear three heartbeats inside the shack, you wonder if any belong to Moon Knight. You’re about to crash through the roof until you decide to just wait for Bushman to be alone.

You lie down on your back and watch the stars. You can’t stop your mind from wandering back to before the Blimp. Everything was going great, you had gotten out of the superhero life and had finally started seeing a therapist. Albit state mandated, but nonetheless you were still going. But then everything with Thanos happened.

You shiver as you remember when he had made his appearance in Wakanda. The feeling of absolute terror he had caused as you watched your friends turn to dust right before your eyes. Bucky had went to reach out for you right as he fell, barely touching your hand before he was just gone. Thinking about it for too long made your left hand itch. And then those years after still show up in your dreams. The emptiness of it all, most of your friends being gone and the how it was quiet all the time. It continues to haunt you.

You’re shaken out of your memories when you hear the door to the shack close.

Creeping over to the edge, you see his bald head. He strikes a match and lights his cigarette. Moving quickly, you scale down the building and appear beside him on the porch. He has his back to you and you know from his body language, he’s unaware of your presence. You lunge forward, kicking the back of his knee and gripping his arm. He stumbles forward and you pin him against the wall. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and angry.

“Alert your men and you’re all dead. I just have some questions and then I’m gone.” He considers your words for a moment and you can feel him twitching, trying his hardest to get away. He tries for a few more moments before realizing he can't overpower you. Years of doing this have led you to be great at reading people. So it doesnt surprise you when he tries to yell. Twisting him around, you grab his head and yank it down in contact with your knee, with a loud smack. He goes cross-eyed and slacked jaw for a moment. You give him a second to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s try it again. I want information on someone and I know you have it. Give me the information and I forget that I saw you.”

“What type of information are we talking about?” His words are slightly slurred. You most likely fractured a few teeth.

“I need the whereabouts of someone that you ran with.”

He grits his jaw. “I help a lot of people. You think I remember all of them?”

You pull out a small piece of paper that has Marc’s military photo on it. You hold it in front of Bushman’s face.

“What about this guy? You remember him?”

He glares at the picture for too long before looking back at you through his brows. Anger is all over his face. “Never seen that prick in my life.”

“Hmm, that was so very believable.” Your voice is laced with sarcasm. “I know for a fact that you know this guy. I have evidence of you two getting into some shit together-” You pull out a knife and tap it on the side of his head, “so, you want to try again?”

A staring content has started to take place as you wait for him to decide what he wants to do.

“What’s in it for me? I’m not giving free information, I dont do charity.”

You roll your eyes. Everyone is always so greedy.

“I’ll give you six months of immunity.”

He eyes you skeptically, “You don’t have that power.”

“You’re right, but I know people who do. Tell me what you know and you’ll be protected.”

You bring the picture back into his vision.

“His name is Marc Spector. We had a job together a while ago. Marc got greedy and wanted all the treasure for himself.” You hear his heart skip a beat and you smell the lie on his skin.

“You’re lying. Tell the truth.” You chide. He gives you a look that is supposed to be intimidating but has no effect. You raise an eyebrow and touch the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I got greedy and wanted all the treasure for myself. I was killing everyone around me, and I was doing wonderfully till Marc decided that killing was too horrible. He tried to stop me. So I killed him, can’t have any witnesses. I left him for dead in the middle of the desert.”

There was no lie.

“You haven’t seen him since?”

“What part of leaving him dead do you not understand? He’s dead. I shot him twice. If that didn’t kill him then bleeding out and starving did.”

He truly has no idea that not only is Marc very much alive, but he’s Moon Knight.

You let out a grunt of acknowledgment.

Letting go of Bushman’s arm, it snaps towards his gun. But before he even realizes it, you’re already swinging your fist down towards his head. The contact stuns him before you wrap both arms around his head in a chokehold. Holding on as tight as you can as he begins to claw at your arms. He starts thrashing his body around, trying his hardest to get you off of him. It was all a wasted effort. You continue to squeeze his neck. His body starts relaxing and once you hear his heartbeat calm down and feel him fall limp, you release him.

Wanting to give yourself time to think, you begin walking. Once you dodge the last few men at the front of the property, you start your long walk down the rural road.

The sun begins to graces the world with its light as you get closer to town. You’re hit with memories, but this time you don’t fight them. You allow yourself to remember all those overnight missions you had with the Avengers. The times that you would switch watch with Nat. The late nights you'd stay up training instead of sleeping, and how Steve always seemed to know and would join you. Which would lead you to grab breakfast at a fast-food joint. The early morning coffee you’d share in silence with Tony as the sun lit up the Avengers compound. The smile on your face is sad. You’re lucky enough to have these memories with those you lost, but also damned to have to live with them just as memories now.

Your vision blurs as your eyes sting with newly formed tears. But you can’t let yourself cry, so you swallow the lump in your throat and shake the memories from your head. A ping is heard from your phone. Unlocking it, you see a notification.

From one of the surveillance cameras that you had programmed to scan faces and match them with Marc’s. Stating: Face Detected.

Your heart thumps faster as you see the face. It’s Marc Spector in broad daylight. In the middle of London.

Taglist: @suddenlysteven @skyesayshi @akirashindou @nefix99 @the-last-spoken-word @flowercrownonapegion @norasgalaxyart

[humofnight]

dream is like the wettest cat of a man I’ve ever seen

[darkened-writer]

As You Wish- (A Knight! Bucky x Servant! Reader) Pt.1

    A Winter’s Night on a full moon beckoned the kingdom as the regal princess made her way to the main hall, her servant and hand-maiden, Y/N, trailing behind her. There was to be a war of great violence to befall the kingdom and The King needed his daughters support.

    “Why do I have to come? I don’t even have full  control over the kingdom and yet.. Father insists I attend.” The Young Princess groaned, her skin tight, blue gown flowing against the linoleum flooring.

Elegant.

 “Your Father insists, your highness, but I will be there with you if you so need anything at all.” 

 The Princess smiled as she stopped in front of the main hall’s doors, turning to look at Y/N. Her gaze was soft as lilies on a sunny afternoon, like the smell of orange peels and lemon.

 “Thank you.. I am glad I have you by my side, even as a servant and hand-maiden, you have been an amazing friend and an amazing companion..”

Y/N, smiling even with a dirty face covered in soot, curtseyed, her semi-clean dress in her hands.

“Thank you, Your Highness.. Let me get the door for you..”

Y/N, quickly but methodically, went up to the door and pushed it open, the door creaking and alerting The King of his daughters arrival. Y/N held the door open and The Princess walked in, taking a seat at the large table.

‘A War Table?’, Y/N thought, then closing the large door and taking her place next to The Princess.

“Today, we speak on our plans of war. The Three Kingdoms have started war and our allies need our help. However, many of my associates have told me to lay down my sword and leave it be. I do not want to break the oath I made years ago so I am to make plans of war. I need opinions and thoughts of best interest.”

Y/N examined everyone seated among the table, seeing their mannerisms and ways of carrying themselves. 

Natasha Of The ‘Zucan Empire’, was a mighty knight and the right hand of The King, Ser Steve of ‘Vaweth’, The Lead Knights of the battalion, his gaze was menacing but soft in an odd way. But, a strange knight caught Y/N’s eyes, his stature was tight and rigid and his face was hidden behind a metal helmet, the only visible feature being his nose, eyes, and a bit of his mouth. His eyes carried great pain, an intense and great pain that had caught the servant by the throat. 

But, she never expected to have him lock eyes with her. His eyes now giving her a feeling, almost of a thunderous storm in the great mountains, the smell of pine and metal and a intense feeling of safeness. 

Their eyes stayed locked only for a bit until The King called upon him to speak.

“Based on the battlefield in which the troops will be placed, I say we put our weaker in the front and our stronger in the back. The opposing won’t expect it, and we can hit them ten times harder than they may hit us.” His voice came out deep and gravelly, but smooth, his words articulate and well spoken.

“His name is ‘The White Wolf’, he is said to be the greatest knight in all the four kingdoms and he serves under my dad..” The Princess whispered to Y/N, Y/N’s eyes widening a bit at the odd name.

“He is known for slaying the dragon that had consumed our lands, I think the dragon was called, ‘Hydra’?”

Y/N nodded, looking back up at the table as they continued to speak.

“White Wolf, I need you to get recruitments for the knights guard, I need the strong and I need the weak, any man or woman will work. Natasha, you will set up our camping for the knights, and manage the rations. Steve, I will be needing you to stay with me until we have our battalion, I am afraid that a assasination attempt may come now that the other kingdoms know that I am joining the fight..”

They all nodded and the meeting was closed, The King coming towards his daughter and hugging her, “I’m glad you came, Daughter. I was afraid Y/N may have to tear you from your chambers.”

She laughed, “Well, you need as much support as you can get father..” 

Y/N however wasn’t listening, her gaze on the knight with the wolf pelts draped over his shoulders, and iron armor clad over his entire self. He was sharpening his blade with a tool, eyes trained on Y/N, she quickly adverted her gaze as The King now turned to her.

“You may talk to our knights, Y/N. You are the best servant we’ve had in this castle, you deserve to have a social life.” He chuckled.

She nodded, and bowed before walking over to ‘The White Wolf’, “You sure do like to stare, don’t you?”

She was taken aback by his words, rubbing her dirtied hands nervously together, “I do not stare, I simply analyze people based on how they behave, you are my object of interest..”

“Mm.” He grumbled, “And, Why’s that?”

“You are far more mysterious than anyone I have ever seen in this castle, and I have been working here since I was six years old..”

His gaze raised up to her, his eyes piercing through her. 

“I’d say, you mind your business before you get hurt, girl.” He got up and sheathed his blade, stomping his way out of the room.

“Well, you sure are a charmer, hm?” 

Natasha had made her way up to her and smiled, reaching a hand out to shake.

“Names Natasha but you can call me ‘Nat’ for short.” The two shook hands, Natasha’s leather glove feeling foreign on Y/N hand.

“Is he always so.. brooding?”

“Yeah, comes with the title and such. Once you’re known for being ruthless, you have to stay ruthless. Say, do you want to go on a walk? The whole battle talk gets me tired.”

With a giggle, Y/N led the mighty female knight to the garden’s, the roses and leaves overgrown over the archway. 

“So, you have been serving the kingdom since you were, SIX? How does one even serve at that age?”

“Well, my mother served under the queen and my father was a servant, once I was born, my parents knew I’d grow into a strong lady but a servant non the less. A month after my birth, the queen had given birth to the princess and died after, leaving the king to care for his child, but, once I was of age to care for myself and care for another, I was to be her handmaiden. And.. here we are.”

Natasha was frankly shocked, how could a girl of such beauty be a handmaiden? She should be out living life, being happy and in love, but she was cooped up in this castle, doomed to an eternity of taking care of someone who isn’t herself.

“I always wanted to be a knight though..”

That piqued her interest.

“I grew up watching the knights go out to fight and I always, always wanted to fight too.”

“You still can.”

“What..?”

Natasha sat down on the garden bench and beckoned the girl to sit, ready to explain.

“I could.. train you.. to be strong, skilled, a true warrior. You are weak now but after even a month of training with me, you’d be ready for battle.”

Y/N listened intently, weighing the consequences of being a warrior, to abandon her post as a servant and handmaiden to fight a war. Would her father and mother approve, would they pat her back and tell her to go for it? 

“I’d need the king and princesses permis-”

“I’ll do it.” She interrupted. 

“You’ll..?”

“I’ll fight, I’ll train, and I’ll become strong, as long as you help me.”

Natasha’s once serious face melted into a smirk, now wrapping her arm around Y/N.

“Well, Let’s go talk to them.”

“You want to take her under your wing to be a knight?”

“Yes, I feel she is capable of becoming great-”

I sat outside of the doors, listening to them talk about me becoming a knight, my eyes trained on the wall as I zoned out into my thoughts, until a tall figure loomed over me, the wolf pelts familiar as I looked up and locked eyes with him. 

“Come with me.”

“Why?” I protested.

“Just come on, girl. I don’t have all day..”

I got up, watching him as he made his way towards the ball room, I followed intently, curious of his reasoning for finding me. His boots clanged against the ground as he opened the door and went inside of the ball room, I cautiously followed.

He set his sword to the ground carefully, eyes trained on me as I entered.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing out a theory...”

He slid the helmet off and let it fall to the ground, then turning to me. And, my my, his eyes, his lips, his nose, the crinkle of skin just above his brows, all came together almost in a masterpiece, a crescendo. The seemingly bad feelings previously about him had flown away like the birds outside the ball room windows, the light perfectly cascading over his face, I knew then and there, he was beautiful.

“Put the armor on.”

“...What?”

He plucked the armor off of his body and pushed it towards me, face straight and devoid of any particular emotion.

“Okay..”

I began to put each piece of armor on, my body slumping slowly but surely due to the weight until all pieces were on and I looked up at him, noting the widened eyes and semi-slacked mouth.

“You...You are her.”

“W-Who...?”

“Athelesia The Fierce..”

“Athelesia was a woman of many traits, she was determined, strong, fearless, and not to mention bold. She had been seen as a savior to many villages, even before the kings arose to power. She protected them, helped them, served them, as a noble person may do. Her fighting skills too were even more powerful then then strongest men of the lands, however, as she was becoming more known, the men we know as the kings today had her killed. It took thirty men to keep her down and in her last breath, she made a promise, that she’d have a descendant that would hold her power, her essence, and her aura. That they would arise one day and slay the poisoned kings to restore true peace to the lands once again. The armor I wear is the one she made back in her time, it was gifted to me but now I know who it truly belongs to...”

Y/N soaked up all the information but still couldn’t grasp how she was to be the greatest warrior of all time. She’s never touched a sword or even fought anyone in her life. She just wanted to be a regular knight, not one of some prophecy. 

He brought the sword in it’s sheath to Y/N, placing it in her hands.

“This was her sword, use it, and train to fulfill the prophecy.”

“How do you know that I-”

“The pendant you wear.”

Y/N looked down at the silver pendant, turning the ruby over to see a name carved into the crystal.

‘Athelesia’

“I- What..”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, his eyes looking deep into hers as he spoke five words that would change her fate forever.

“You are Y/N The Fierce.”

[angel-of-the-moons]

Blood Moon

Marc Spector/Moon Knight (Vengeance of Venom) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of child death, trauma related to that, some coping, Marc being an emotionally constipated idiot as usual; Also you can't convince me that after the symbiote invasion, Marc and May Parker didn't become like, catty bff's

A/N: After a million years, I have returned to this particular incarnation of Moon Knight! I've been trying to consume various forms of media to help get me in the zone for him, and yes that includes watching the only two episodes in that Spider-Man cartoon he's actually in on repeat...

Taglist: @badbishsblog @patchesofwork

Divider done by the ever so lovely @/saradika-graphics!

PT. 6

It had been a few days since you and Marc had discussed his past.

And you were... angry for him. What had happened to your family was bad, but it wasn't as bad as Marc coming home to his dead child.

Marc had his whole family ripped away from him because his little brother literally went insane with jealousy? Honestly, if the bastard wanted superpowers so fucking badly, he could gone to play in a pool at a nuclear power plant!

Marc's lot in life truly wasn't fair. You understood his prickly, walled-off personality a bit more, but moreover you just felt... saddened. You almost didn't push through the loss of your family. Being a combative young girl, violent and opposing to your guardians as you frog-hopped your way through foster homes; many parents simply didn't bother with you after the first month of constant disobedience and violent outbursts.

And couple all of that with the running away... it had gotten to the point nobody had wanted you, so you were forced to live in a roughened group home for the duration of your dwindling childhood.

But none of that felt as horrible and gut-wrenching compared to coming home to your own child brutally murdered out of petty jealousy and perceived rivalry.

Your heart broke for him; he had suffered horrible situations all because of someone he should have been able to love and trust with his life. Someone--

"You're spacing again."

You jumped, almost dropping your gauntlet as Marc's voice cuts through your thoughts.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, "Yeah, just... Got a bit on my plate, so to speak."

His chair squeaks as he turns back to sharpening his darts; after pointing out he needed new ones, Marc actually took your advice and put in a request with Fury for the materials to manufacture new ones. And provide a few modifications to your own equipment as well. It was the least he could do for being such an ass to you before.

The grindstone whirred, soft sparks falling onto the worktable as he meticulously honed the edges of the blades down to their fine edges; his warm chocolate eyes focusing with intensity on his task.

You tucked one leg beneath yourself from where you hunched over on the couch, staring at him for a moment before returning to your own work, hoping to distract you from your morbid and depressing train of thought.

"Have anything to do with Strange?" He asked, the question short and clipped.

"Eh?" You blinked, almost dropping your tool at the suddenness of his question. It was... weirdly out of nowhere. You hadn't really interacted with Stephen much since your hospitalization, and maybe once or twice when dealing with things at Avengers Tower.

"No?"

"He's been hovering." He muttered, frowning as he began working on a new dart, setting the completed one off to the side with the others.

"You mean like... at meetings?" You blinked dumbly, your jaw slacking slightly.

"Yes."

"Well, I mean... kinda?" You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Any particular reason?" He hummed, his mouth twisting as he scowled through the magnifier.

You furrowed your brow and squinted at him, blinking a few times. He seemed... Stiff. Prickly, almost. He almost looked like he...

You grinned widely, a lightbulb blipping to life inside of your head.

"Oh my god."

You lean forward, grasping your gauntlet in one hand and still grinning, staring at his posture. Marc seemed to go even stiffer than before, his movements not as precise as before, almost as if he was trying to distract himself from the current subject.

"Marc, are you jealous?"

The silence was your best answer, and you laughed, leaning back on the couch, and kicking your feet as your giddiness overtook you. "Marc!"

Marc spun around and slammed his fist on the table, barking, "I was only wondering if there are any distractions that might screw you up on patrol!"

You finally dropped your gauntlet, clutching your belly as it ached from laughing, his absurd reaction to your observation just ratting him out more, "Oh my god!" You gasped, rolling onto your side.

"Shut the hell up!" He snapped.

"Marc!" You sputtered, snorting at him.

"Ugh!" He grunted, jerking his chair back around to look at the task he'd dropped on the worktable.

"Stephen has been like, nosey because I was thinking about asking Fury to transfer me as his partner."

His shoulders twitched, "What?"

You sit up again a bit, resting your weight on your elbow as you let your leg sling over the side of the couch; "When we split our little dynamic duo; before I got hurt, I requested I work with Stephen because... Well? We have decent chemistry and ideally that's what you want in a partnership."

Marc scowled, keeping his back to you as you spoke; why was he so defensive over this? Why did that hot, simmering feeling return to the pit of his gut? He thought he buried it the day he saw you in the medical ward back in the Tower when you agreed to be his partner again.

"And as for the weird ass flowers? Gamora and Groot gave those to me. She popped in to say hi, and Groot happened to sprout some while we were talking. They gave them to me as a get-well present."

He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, over his shoulder, "You certainly enjoyed his attention, though."

You coughed awkwardly into your hand, and cleared your throat; "Well, a woman appreciates chivalry every now and again, Marc. And Stephen can be really chivalrous when he wants to be."

You crossed your arms, and huffed out a puff of air. "And your manners certainly match the sewers you were living in... But it's no reason to get friggin' jealous or anything."

"I'm not jealous for the last damn time!" He snapped again, glaring at you.

"Oh... so you're protective, then? Are you that worried about me?"

He growled, grinding his teeth together as he pushed himself up from the table, the wheels on his chair squeaking audibly as he muttered under his breath.

"Hey! Where are you going?" You asked, climbing to your feet as he yanked on his hoodie.

"Out for a drink. I need one after dealing with you." He scoffed, walking up the basement stairs.

"But it's 11 in the morning!" You retort.

Even though he seemed pissed, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, your fingers touching your chin as you heard the front door slam.

"She's insufferable!" Marc growled, scowling deeply out of the window, his brown eyes watching as children played outside and cars drove by. The muffled barking of a dog could be heard from somewhere through the window.

"I swear, dealing with her has me wanting to shave my head and jump in the Hudson in the middle of winter!"

May smiled into her tea, her green eyes twinkling with mischief as the wrinkles at the corners became more obvious the more Marc ranted about you.

"Your tea is getting cold." She reminded him with a hum.

The former Marine slumped his shoulders with a hefty sigh and dropped onto the cushioned chair on the other side of the tea table next to her, taking the chipped mug in his hands before taking a big swig of it; swirling the slightly bitter liquid around in his mouth before swallowing.

"You've been talking about your partner for a while, Marc. And while you seem agitated about her," May set her mug down on a saucer to look at him with a patient smile.

"Has she really done anything to make you this angry? Or is there some other underlying issue?"

His brows furrowed and he rubbed his hand along his stubble, looking at her quizzically, "I don't follow."

"Marc, you're not used to having to rely on someone in such a hefty capacity like this," May said gently.

"You've been working alone for so long you've boxed yourself into a little corner and get mad when people don't act the way you want them to, or if they don't see things the way you do, at first. It's why you acted the way that you did when all those symbiotes invaded."

"Okay, I have my reasons for..." Marc noticed her silvery brow quirk up, her lips tipping into a smirk. He brought his tea to his lips and drank again. "...continue."

"You were concerned with your own survival. You had been alone for so long you felt like, even with your hero work as Moon Knight, you were still in it by yourself."

"...Someone helped convince me." He sighed softly, looking into the tea a bit, swirling it in the mug.

"Oh yeah, someone did all right." May said haughtily, "And I bet she was so smart and amazing at it, too."

"And a little full of herself. And preachy..." Marc slowly smiled at her.

"Okay, well, aside from that--" May giggled. "It's nice to know that I had a hand in you opening up more. Spider-Man being that other hand."

Marc pursed his lips. May Parker may know that Marc Spector is actually Moon Knight... But she did not know her beloved nephew was the Spider-Man. He didn't like lying to her, it left a foul taste in his mouth. She was one of the few--the very few--friends he had left in the world and it felt wrong to mislead her.

But he swore to Peter he wouldn't tell May until the youth decided he was ready.

"So, I think your apparent "frustration" with her might just be the fact that you're not used to having someone inhabit your personal bubble so easily. Your personalities are very different, but... You like her. It angers you because you try not to like her--or people in general--but it just happened."

"That's not..." Marc started to say; but, instead he rubbed the back of his neck. "...Entirely untrue."

"And you seem to be unreasonably annoyed that this girl had been looking for a new partner... And seemed to enjoy whatever flattery he was putting on for her."

He raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"Marc, did you stop to analyze your feelings on a slightly more... intimate manner?" May sighed hopelessly, shaking her head before taking another sip of her tea.

"Uh--hey, wait! What's that supposed to mean!" He sputtered, turning in the chair to look at her fully, feeling an uncomfortable sweat in his palms.

"Do you think you might be so protective of her because you're interested in her on a more personal level? You know, romantically. Or... otherwise."

Ugh, he hated how sagely this woman could be sometimes. She was wonderful at giving advice, but torture when she got to the core of the issues discussed.

And he knew, deep down, that she wasn't far off from the truth.

"May--"

"Marc." She put her hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze, "Would it be so bad to let somebody in like that? To let her get close to you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and determinedly sucked the rest of his tea down before speaking;

"Yes. May, I'm taking a big risk just even being friends with you. Being around your nephew."

"Is it... because of your hero work?" May asked, her eyes shining with concern.

"Yes and no... it's..." His eyes cast down to the floor, the bitter memories of what happened to his wife and daughter, his friends, associates... all at the hands of his brother.

"There's someone. A criminal who--who has it out for me. He's been targeting people close to me for years, May. I... don't want him to hurt anybody else."

She squeezed his arm again, smiling kindly, "Tell me. Please. You know you can."

"It's... not pretty, May. It's horrific, what he's done. She found out about it and I'm pretty sure she's started letting it fester in her brain." He sighed, slumping his shoulders a bit.

"I've seen a lot, Marc." May says softly. "After losing Ben, how he was taken from us... it wasn't easy. You know how I felt, I've already told you. So... Please."

Marc lifted his eyes and took a deep breath.

And began to speak.

PT. 7: No idea, with fall around the corner I may come back to this just for the spooky vibes and to hopefully be able to wrap this up!

[hiimsociallyawkward]

aithusia

hi bestie @lady-ofmagic-andstars it's been a while. i said i would do this episode last week but i had to wait for the destiny and chicken podcast to come out so here we are. basically, all of my thoughts while watching aithusia.

ugh the opening scene. i actually love it

ok ngl i remember that this guy is the bad guy but he's like 🥵🥵🥵 jeez

ik it's not just on tiktok but that tiktok where it goes 'but momma i'm in love with a criminal'

wow nice key bud

ok him running in the forest is just like you cannot outrun your demons and i thought that was so funny

smh he's so violent but he's so pretty :,)

ok but how old is this guy?? he say it's taken 20 years of his life. why 20? is that because that's when the 'last' dragon died out?? and at what age was he socially concious enough to recognize the implication of what it means to have a dragon? his is so dumb but probably like 15? so this guy is 35ish? idk man thoughts?

ok if he just feel off the cliff instead of being able to pull himself up we would've saved ourselves a lot of trouble i'm just saying druids.

ok this is so pretty. my thoughts are like 25% me singing show tunes, 25% thinking of actual merlin things, 50% thinking about how pretty everything is

merlin is such a light sleeper. idk why that's important but he wakes up ALL the time

✨gaius is the worst ✨

ok colin's eye looked so good in this scene

aLASFLJDFA MERLIN AND HIS SOCKS

stop i literally dress like this

i love his sleep clothes. it's such a vibe

aw merlin saying 'save the dragons is so cute' omg it reminds me of the vsco girls and saving the turtles HAHA

i love how equal merlin and kilgharrah feel here

asjflsjdasjdfl like ik this is the point but i love that merlin's inherited his father gift and he's always going to remember him. not that merlin would forget his father but idek

aw kilgharrah is like 'i beg you' ok now that i think abt it maybe it's slightly manipulative but it's also really not

ok actually i don't know how many time merlin uses this scene but i guess i'm keeping track now. but look how pretty

wow the rising sun 🤪

OH HAHA THIS IS WHERE MERLIN CARTWHEELS??

literally merlin just breaks in everywhere

merlin seems so earnest about wanting to see the dragons. i want to see the dragons too please

omg HAHA the woodworm is this episode??

WHY IS MERLIN STILL SEARCHING AFTER ARTHUR TURNS AROUND WHAT?

this is a side note but i love arthur's key holder thingy it's actually pretty.

stop right now why is merlin using his magic to PANTS arthur

ok i'm pretty sure that agravaine is only in this episode this one time, and yk it's the little victories

i'm actually embarassed for arthur and merlin here. i don't like it at all

HOW DOES MERLIN DO THE HANDSTAND?? that's the one part i like

ok my question is how is he supposed to know where the last piece of the triskeleton is??

SECOND QUESTION WHY IS HE JUST STANDING IN THE VAULT WHEN HE SHOULD BE RUNNING

lasflkajsdljsad omg the betrayal. ouch my heart

these scene are just like. it's actually art

ok how did merlin stay there all night and no one saw him?? literally camelot guards need to step up

omg no not merlin zooming

sklfja;lsdkjfasdlfs amerlin and the cup

i love how long merlin and arthur look at each other before arthur reacts

lsjfa;lksdsl woodworm omg and the fact that arthur believes that merlin is this chaotic is so funny

HAHA THIS SCENE GAIUS LITERALLY YELLING AT MERLIN

i think this is the funniest thing because gaius is like 'don't people about your magic' while YELLING ABOUT MERLIN'S MAGIC

ok that's a good point gaius we don't know what borden's intentions are

alsdjfalsd stop why didn't they wait for merlin :,(. this reminds me of when you're in highschool and you're finishing lunch and as you pack up everyone is leaving you??????

ok but i love that merlin rides in front with arthur. like- of course he does

merlin being observant 😍😍

i want to go horse riding now

STOP I DON'T LIKE THIS

THIS KNIGHT/DINNER GAG IS NOT FUNNY TO ME. NOT IN THE SLIGHTLEST. THERE'S THIS FIC by @a-small-batch-of-dragons. i literally spent like 10 minutes looking for it because i had to include it here

this scene just.. i don't like it. i never have and i never will

like- who decided that putting this scene in here would be good. no thanks

the knights sleeping in a circle and merlin sleeping on the outside. idk bro that made me a little sad

but also. i want a cloak please. i think i'm just going to say i want a cloak every episode

ok i chuckled at the interaction of 'ever herd of the word sorry?' and 'no is it a word you made up?'

dude don't ask why but i love it when people walk through waterfalls

i don't know why arthur looked so stupid when he was doing it though

i love the nature of it all

yes merlin, you start walking toward the castle first

aw i love the knights working together. like, i know they work together- they're knights, but we love to see it

merlin and his sharp eyes again :,))

why are they making camp it's literally not even dark yet 😭😭

oh great another dinner gag. please stop. i dislike this immensely

wow i love that merlin can heal them. i also think it's surprising because merlin sucks at healing things but yk.. ✨plot✨

this looks like the type of building teens would either be convinced is haunted and try to stay the night there or the type of building that all teens would go to to take pics for the #gram

ok is borden dead here or..

yes i'm putting both of these picture here. who's going to stop me

just kidding it's three

ok so not dead

ok this is not meant to be creepy but colin has nice hands

borden is a creep please go away now

merlin use your ✨magic ✨ please

YES. tell him you're the last dragonlord. i stan. YES HIM AND HIS MAGIC

you better run boy

ok how he manages to get out of the castle is astounding

HAHA there was some CGI that fell and i laughed so hard because it looked so fake

LITERALLY. THE PRETTY CASTLE SCENE IS HERE AGAIN. PRETTY CASTLE SCENE COUNTER; 3

omg merlin getting excited about the egg is actually so precious

both of their faces here are SO precious.

oasfasldfjasl idk why but whenever merlin walks across with the eggs i have this feeling he's going to faceplant and drop it for the comedic effect but i'm glad that never happens

bruh 'back where it belongs' like yes that makes sense but also that doesn't make sense

dude

it's been a full moon for like 4 days now..??????

omg i actually love aithusa

tbh, i DO NOT know how to pronounce her name

why is she actually the cutest thing ever.

AW MERLIN CRYING

i love it when merlin cries, but not in a sadistic way yk? it's more the fact that he's allowed to cry

ok i have a few dragon fics that i love but the only one i can think of right now is Returning the Favor by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle it's actually perfect

there are so many more that i love but i can't think of them but also- PLEASE REC YOUR FAVE DRAGON FAMILY DOMESTIC FICS PLEASE AND THANK YOU

anyways. i'll be back tomorrow to rant more about the darkest hr pt 2 so i'll see you then! also let me know if you want me to stop tagging you @lady-ofmagic-andstars because otherwise i will literally tag you in everything :,)

[kyber-queen]

Like Real People Do (Rex x Reader) Pt. 1

Summary: Jedi!reader and Rex fall in love but are separated by the war. They meet again two years later, just before the Siege of Mandalore. This is the prologue, set on Coruscant where reader is a Jedi Knight and Rex is a shiny (not yet a captain, hasn’t seen battle yet). lotsa fluff and a little bit of angst. An eensy bit of suggestive content but not much. Italics signify flashbacks/past events in this fic. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Slight mention of suggestive content, mention of food

Author’s Note: Hey guys!! First multi chapter fic !! I’m planning on seven parts right now--five chapters, a prologue, and an epilogue. As always, feedback is highly appreciated!! Enjoy!!

Next

************************************************

You woke up slowly this morning. It was later than usual; the sun clawed at your window. It pierced through the blinds, attempting to draw you from your pleasant dream-like state. You stretched, rolling onto your side and facing the warm body to your left. Rex was still asleep, his features relaxed as his breaths puffed evenly from his parted lips. He looked peaceful. The practical part of you knew that you needed to wake him up, that you couldn’t risk being seen sneaking him out of the temple, but the part of you that was merely a person in love longed to stay. You shifted closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He didn’t stir. You raised your hand to cup his jaw, kissing a little line across his cheekbone. Rex shifted, his honey-brown eyes fluttering open. His eyes met yours and your heart clenched in your chest. He was so beautiful.

 “Good morning,” you whispered. 

 Rex let out a contented sigh. He turned his head slightly to press his lips to your thumb where it rested at the corner of his mouth. “How much time do we have?”

You hated that question. “Not long, sun’s already up. You should get going,”.

 Rex nodded in understanding. This was dangerous for the both of you—if caught, you’d get expelled from the order and, best case scenario, Rex would be sent to some backwater moon in the outer rim. Clones were expendable, he was expendable. Realistically, they’d court-marshal him, find him guilty, and he’d either be executed or spend the rest of his days in a republic jail cell. Rex shuddered at the thought. 

 “Patrols start in 15 minutes, we don’t have much time,”. Your voice, still rough from sleep, drew Rex from his train of thought. 

 “Why do you always have to be the responsible one?” Rex said with mock exasperation, hauling himself into a seated position. He stumbled off your bed, and you found yourself missing his warmth. You watched in silence as he pulled the top of his blacks over his head, flexing his shoulders at the sensation of the rough fabric against his golden skin. He carefully reattached his armor, the clean white plastoid masking the softer black material. You reached for his helmet, tugging at his hand as you pulled him back to your bed and into your arms. He kissed you softly, his gloved hand gentle against your cheek. He held you close, and you sensed that he didn’t want to let go. Emotion swelled in your chest. He pulled away, and you slid his helmet over his head with resignation. He walked to the door, and as he did, you gasped. Something twisted deep and painful in your gut, and you were struck with the premonition that something wasn’t right.   

“Rex—” 

“I’ll see you tonight, cyare,”. 

And with that, he left. 

You attempted to brush off your unease, rolling your shoulders and hauling yourself out of bed. You bent down to grab your robes from the floor, and your face heated as memories of you eagerly shucking them off last night resurfaced. You had needed him last night, not even bothering to watch for patrols as you dragged him, laughing, into your temple apartment. Jedi weren’t supposed to be as reckless as you were. Jedi weren’t supposed to fall in love like you had. According to the council, attachments put you on a dangerous path to the dark side, leading to evil. If that was true, how come the time you spent with Rex was the only time you ever felt entirely good? 

You redressed and grabbed a ration bar before heading to the high council chamber. Master Windu had requested your presence at 0600—too early to be a meeting with the full council. You assumed he wanted to go over your lesson curriculum for the younglings. You were supposed to lead a lightsaber skills workshop this morning, and Windu, ever the stickler about technique, probably wanted to go over the moves you’d be teaching. 

 You entered the chamber to find Master Windu and Master Secura deep in conversation. You cleared your throat and gave them each a respectful bow. They turned, and you searched their faces for any indicators of their intentions. Master Secura smiled, tilting her head thoughtfully. 

 “We have a new assignment for you,”. 

 Would you be taking on more teaching responsibilities? You bit your lip nervously. The twisting feeling in your gut was back. 

 Windu spoke next. “You’ll be joining the 327th as an auxiliary commanding officer. You’ll report directly to General Secura, but you’ll have the opportunity to assist with and develop battle plans. You’re one of our most promising strategists—it’s time you put your skills to use,”. 

 You were stunned. You excelled in strategy training as a Padawan, but to actually have the ability to use your training on the battlefield? As much as you adored the younglings, your heart leapt at the prospect. 

 “We leave for a year-long campaign in the outer rim at 1400. Welcome to the 327th, young one,”. 

 Your heart dropped into your stomach. An entire year? As excited as you were to serve under General Secura, you had built a life for yourself on Coruscant. Rex was on Coruscant. A lot could happen in a year—especially in wartime. You had heard the stories of callous generals who treated their clone troopers like droids, suffering innumerable losses without batting an eye. Rex was still a shiny—he hadn’t even seen combat yet. What if he got hurt, or worse? Regardless, the council had given an order and it was your job to follow it. 

“I am honored. Thank you, Masters,”. You prayed neither of them heard the tremor in your voice. 

You walked out of the council chambers and sucked in a shaky breath. You needed to find Rex. You rushed to the mess hall, hoping to catch him during breakfast, but no one was there. You tried the 501st barracks next, but they were all empty. Your unease grew by the minute, and you were once again reminded of the gut feeling you had earlier. You needed to see him before you left. Stars, you didn’t even have his commlink. You had never needed it—you were assigned to his squadron for training exercises, you saw him every day for at least an hour. Deep in thought, you stumbled into a robed man walking the opposite direction. You issued a hasty apology, taking a few more steps before realization hit you. That was Master Kenobi. If anyone knew where Skywalker’s unit went, it would be him. You doubled back, jogging to catch up with him. 

“Master Kenobi, sorry for running into you. I was wondering if you had any idea where the 501st is right now,”. Your tone raised at the end of the sentence. 

Kenobi stopped in his tracks, pausing to consider your question. “I believe they’re en route to Geonosis as of this moment, my dear. They boarded the Resolute half an hour ago,”. 

Your chest collapsed. You summoned up the courage to respond, a weak ‘thank you’ escaping your trembling lips. You had talked with Rex once about the possibility of being separated, but neither of you had taken the discussion seriously. You always thought you would have more time. Neither of you knew what would happen to the other if either of you shipped out—war was dangerous, and it made love damn near impossible. Right after he told you he loved you for the first time, Rex told you he didn’t want to live in fear of when either of you would leave. He wanted to take each day as it came. You noticed he was quieter last night, more stoic. Before you fell asleep, he had told you that he loved you, that he wanted you to remember that he loved you, no matter what happened. Did he know he was leaving? 

Kenobi noticed the change in your demeanor. 

“Why do you ask?” 

You took a sharp inhale, and pushed your treacherous thoughts to the side. You feigned apathy as a piece of your soul shattered inside you. 

 “No reason,”.

[emitheduck]

The Queens Daughter (Anakin x Reader) pt 3

Queen’s Daughter (Anakin x Reader) pt 3

A/N:  I cannot believe I made this story three, amazing, parts. You can find part one HERE and part two HERE, as well as the rest in my Masterlist. (Also if you would care to be on my taglist, send me a message) ---

The large wooden doors opened, (Y/n) facing the long aisle that stood before here. Many wealthy and prestigious guests came from across the galaxy to witness this wedding. A wedding that would join (Y/n), Princess of Alderaan, to Prince Beju, Prince of Gala. 

The wedding would bring peace to the people, along with a powerful army to provide for the two planets that would now be united as one. The people of Gala usually got what they wanted, having the financial status to use it to their advantage, whereas the people of Alderaan only wanted peace. 

(Y/n) started walking towards the man who she would spend her life with. He wasn’t the worst looking man she had ever seen in her life, having just seen him for the first time the second she walked through the door. He looked angry; almost like this was something he didn’t want either. 

She glanced over at Anakin who looked to be talking to Obi-Wan about something important. She could tell from the way his eyebrows furrowed together; he was trying to get the older man to listen to him.

Reaching the end of the aisle, she looked to her left where Beju stood. This foreign man had the coldest blue eyes. She knew very well she would never learn to love him. 

“We are gathered here today, under the two moons of Alderaan to join these two in marriage. Uniting these two will bring peace to the galaxy, providing that the people of Gala and the people of Alderaan will be forever joined as one. The planet of wealth, joined with the planet of beauty…” The officiant continued to ramble on, continuing with the history of the two planets, but (Y/n) had stopped listening, instead watching as Obi-Wan and Anakin were on the move. 

“I beg your pardon, but we need to stop the ceremony.” Obi-Wan interrupted with the clearing of his throat.

Beju shook his head. “Nonsense, continue the ceremony at once.”

“I’m afraid he cannot. Prince Beju is to be arrested at once, by order of the Jedi counsel.” Obi-Wan said, the guards of Alderaan instantly moving forward to detain the man. 

The Queen stood, shaking her head. “For what crime?”

Anakin stepped forward, glancing over at (Y/n) before looking at the Queen. “Prince Beju has been lying to his people. He has cut off the planet Bacta supply, causing his people to suffer. He wanted to look like a hero to bring the supply back.” 

“No! They’re lying! I would never, I love my people!” Beju yelled as the guards started to lead him out of the room; with a rush of people following him. 

(Y/n) was left standing alone at the altar, not having moved from the spot she stopped at when she walked down the aisle. 

Anakin walked over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I told you I could get you out of it.” He chuckled, looking down and noticing she was crying. “Hey, it’s okay you don’t have to cry!” He told her as he dried her eyes with a gloved hand. 

“I’m crying for my people. They needed this wedding so they would be at peace. Without this alliance, they’re not guaranteed any safety.” She told him, looking down at her hands as they gripped the fabric of the dress. 

“You didn’t fail them. Beju failed his people a long time ago, and believe me, there will be plenty of people wanting to support someone who cares about their people. This isn’t a loss.” Anakin told her as he pulled her into his arms. 

She looked up at him, her face still flushed from the tears. “You’re just happy that now you don’t have to worry about me being married, to someone that isn’t you.”

“I’m happy that you didn’t have to marry an angry man who would have been the worst thing to ever happen to you.” Anakin said as he rested a hand on her cheek. “He would have crushed you, and you would have never been able to be an amazing Queen with him by your side. He needed you, more than you would have needed him.”

“Do you really mean that?” She questioned as he pulled her into his chest. That’s usually what calmed her down the most; being able to fully rest her face on his chest, breathing in the familiar sandalwood scent that he usually smelled like.

He nodded. “Of course I mean that. I mean it because I love you.”

(Y/n) smiled softly, reaching a hand up to gently run it over his cheek. “I love you too. I want to spend eternity with you.”

“Let’s get married then. You already have the dress, and I could go find the Holy Man who almost married you.” He suggested, knowing most likely that this was a 50/50 chance that she would either agree or disagree. 

She paused, but nodded. “Of course. Let’s do it.”

---

“We are gathered here today, under the two moons of Alderaan to join these two in marriage. Uniting these two will bring a lifetime of love and happiness to these two, and praying to the stars that they do. Bringing together the Princess of Alderaan with the Jedi knight.” The Holy Man finished with a wave of his arm, allowing the two to share their first kiss as husband and wife.

“Married.” Anakin smiled, holding her hand as they walked closer to the balcony; stopping once they had found the perfect spot to stand. 

“What do you think the rest of our lives will be like?” (Y/n) asked as they stood, watching the beautiful scenery before them.

“I think that one day, the counsel will allow me to share that I have found love. They won’t be angry with me, and I’ll be able to call you my wife in public.” He told her, leaning into her as she held onto his arm. 

(Y/n) hummed in response. “I think that one day, we should have a child. After they found out about us, of course. The child could be a Jedi, just like you.”

Anakin chuckled as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “We can only hope that our child will be half as amazing as you are.”

“Anakin, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” (Y/n) smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

“And I can’t wait either.”

--

MASTERLIST

[happytroopers]

A Knight in White Armor // pt. 3

Rex X Royal!Reader

nearly two years later, brought to you by the burning desire I’ve had to yell at the trade federation since I was 6 years old. I’m a SLUT for plitical drama and for Captain Rex

for those of you who are new here:

Part one Part Two Part three Part Four Coming Soon or possibly in two years. 

Did i pull an all nighter to rewrite this bc tumblr deleteed it YES. An no, I don’t know why the formatting looks like that. 

Uhhhm if I tagged you, it’s because you expressed interest recently so if you want me to leave you alone (or want to be included) lemme know.

So, taglist: @robotxtrash @mackstrut @clonewarsreturns @94pigeons @skdubbs and about ten other people who messaged me on anon lmao 

Y’all know the drill, this sucks and its unedited blah blah b;ah 

______________

A day and a half. That’s all you allowed yourself to wallow in self pity. After that, you forced yourself to remember that whoever sent that assassin only sent them because you were doing good work. 

And once you reminded yourself of that, you were back in the spotlight like you’d never left. After you made some changes, mind you, like dismissing the maids they provided and bringing in your personal maids that you’d known since you were sixteen.Of course, Rex was by your side and more protective than he had been. With his formidable presence ever present, even the more hostile politicians were hesitant to get in your face. Yes, you were back, and more determined than ever to truly make a difference.

You were also grappling with other feelings. Feelings that you buried deep into your heart until you were alone. Ever since the first time he called by name, Rex had held a soft spot in your heart. You tried to be reasonable, tell yourself that he was only doing all these things because it was his job. He was only so protective because he was ordered to do so, only candid with you because you asked him to be, so on and so forth. Those things were easy to write off, to kill any hope of him returning your feelings. 

But then, he’d go above and beyond his job. Listening to you complain about other politicians, offering you a steadying hand when you were going down steps in those cumbersome skirts you had to wear, laughing at something you said, staying with you if you felt uneasy at night, carrying food and water with him because you had an awful habit of forgetting to eat between engagements…. A particular memory that always turned your cheeks red was when you were posing for an official photo and your skirts got tangled up,  before a maid could fix it, Captain Rex was on one knee expertly fluffing your skirt back out and laying your train flat. That certainly wasn’t his job. Those were harder to write off and any hope you previously squashed came back with a vengeance.

It was then you’d have to remind yourself it could never happen. On the off chance he did feel the same way,  you knew that there had to be some terrible punishment- it probably fell under insubordinates. Additionally, no matter how persistent the butterflies were, you weren’t naive. You were a princess, royalty, top of the nobility, and you weren’t even the first born. It was only a matter of time before you were married off to satisfy some ally you’d never met before. You’d long since made peace with the fact you marriage would be arranged for the good of your people. As royalty, you sacrificed very few things and lived very fortunately, this was the price. Royals didn’t get true love. Besides, love was a bit melodramatic. You could content yourself with fluffy daydreams for the moment.

That being said, you hardly had time to day dream. Middle of week two (in the month of peace talks), and you were so busy you barely had time to think of anything but public policy, war treaties, and trade negotiation. Trade Negotiation being the first thing on your mind that evening as your maids flurried about, preparing you for that night’s engagement: an invitation from the trade federation to talk about your planet’s charters with them over a private dinner. You were reticent to accept the invitation, especially after Padme’s warnings about them. Even though you were young, you well remembered the siege and blockade of Naboo. But, after speaking to your advisors and parents (the reigning King and Queen), you decided to go. At the very least as a show of strength, and at worst to warn them off bothering your people.

Rex wasn’t all too happy with this dinner either. He’d heard of the trade federation blockade of Naboo from Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, and he’d read the HoloNet articles about the Blockade of the Pantoran Moon. Not to mention all rumors of kidnappings, Separatist ties, and assignation (attempts and successes) that surrounded the Trade Federation. He’d even heard rumors that the Trade Federation ordered a hit on your planet’s senator. Ultimately unsuccessful, but it didn’t make him feel good about you sharing a meal with them. Rex had a feeling that the Neimodians were just as slimy as they looked, and he made his opinion quite clear as he watched your maids assemble your look for the night.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to go. No one will think any less of you.” He assured you from his spot, leaning against the arm of the couch nearest you. Out of your sight, or at least they thought, (and without Rex paying attention), your maids shared a look, as if to say, did this soldier just address the princess by her first name?

You turned your head slightly towards him, but the maids quickly adjusted your posture, “They will, but it’s not about that, Rex,”

You paused, to let the maids know that you definitely saw the looks that time, they hurried back to their work so you continued, “I’m going so that they know that I won’t be bullied into a terrible deal for my people.”

Seemingly finished with your makeup, you watched as the oldest maid pressed your tiara into your hair. Pleased with your appearance, you stood straightening the skirt of the slip you were wearing (the youngest maid had tried to shoe Rex out, saying it wasn’t proper for him to see you like that before you assured her it was alright). They brought over the stiff, heavy, formal dress that would go over the slip, and unlaced the back. You held your arms up and allowed them to slip it over your head. Rex was still watching with an uncertain look in his eyes as they laced you up.

“They can threaten me all they want to, but I will not allow them to threaten my people because they think I’m too young and naive to notice.” You voice was firm, you hadn’t even raised it a decibel, but still commanded all the attention in the room.  Finally, you turned to look at the Captain, and he finally understood. 

While you always looked Royal, you generally weren’t overly fussy about your appearance, but tonight was different. If Rex understood your culture correctly, this was a modern, toned down take on traditional war paint and battle dress, what a princess or queen would wear in a time of war. You meant business tonight, more so than usual. There was no room for argument. Nodding, Rex slid his helmet on, “Then I’ll be right beside you the entire time, your highness.”

Once again, your maids shared a look, somehow using your formal title seemed more intimate than using your real name. Nevertheless, they finished off this look, quite proud of their work by attaching a long, dark, velvety cape to the shoulders of your dress with jewel encrusted clips that probably cost more than a starship. Finally, at the height of regality, you nodded to him and with a flourish of your cape you were out the door.

“Let’s be off then.”

__________

As it turned out, this dinner was not as private as you were promised. Having expected this, you enjoyed the look of frustrated shock when Senator Amidala entered the dining room. Rex nearly flinched as you took a sip of your wine, you’d been quite adamant in not having it tested for poisons.

(“If they’re stupid enough to poison me at their own table, let them dig their own graves.” You had told him, but this didn’t ease his mind. He didn’t trust these people, and Kix didn’t carry many anti-poisons with him.)

If you were worried about poison, you didn’t show it, only raising your glass to Lott Dodd, the republic representative of the Trade Federation. Since you were the only royal in attendance, you were sat at the end of the table with your host, Lott Dodd, on the other end, ten feet away. On your right, Padme, decked out in a tight, black dress with a large, jeweled neckpiece, sat confidently beside you. On your left however, there were two members of the technounion, and two other member of the trade federation. On the other side of Padme was a hologram of a Muun banking clansmen. Of course along the back wall were all of their security, mostly droids. Behind you and Padme,  the walls were lined with Rex’s men and Padme’s own Captain Typho.

“I see you took the liberty to make this dinner not so private, I’m glad I always overdress.” You mused, eyebrow raised in challenge. As if wishing he’d tell Padme to leave.

“I could say the same thing about you, your highness.” Lott Dodd replied lowly with a sugary fake smile.

“The more the merrier, right?” You asked, flashing an equally as fake smile. The neimodian only nodded before taking a large gulp of his wine. If anything was to tell Rex how the rest of that evening would go, it was that interaction right there. As the first course was being served, you half listened to a member of the techounion, Trev, propose a partnership in the technounion and your planets Science Research Division and also his interest in your fuel reserves (which was suspicious all together because it was common knowledge that you planets top scientific priority was developing weapons and medical supplies/technology for the Grand Army of the Republic). Beside you, Padme was in an intense conversation about banking regulation with the Muun hologram. Rather quickly, this was brought to a halt as Lott Dodd gathered your attention, 

“Princess, shall we discuss business now so we can get it out of the way?”

“Of course, I’d love to get it over with quickly.” You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“I’m sure you read the earlier proposal I had delivered to you?” He asked, again you nodded but narrowed you eyes at you glass before lifting cold eyes to him. You could register the shock at your change in demeanor, so you just continued on.

“You mean the proposal to decrease the regulations on the good you import while you also increase the prices, and at the same time decrease the already low prices and taxes on the exports we sell to you?” You clarified, raising a defiant eyebrow at the representative. “I’m no economist, but I’m sure you know that a charter like that would crash our economy. We’ll have to renegotiate.”

“Perhaps our proposal was a bit heavy handed, surely we can find a way for it to work without resorting to unseemly measures. Young people like you don’t seem to realize how trying war time can be.” Lott Dodd tried to regain control of the situation without losing ground on his proposal, but you caught the way his brow ridge twitched and the hidden threat behind his words.

“Oh, like a blockade?” Senator Amidala couldn’t help but mutter into her glass. You breathed a laugh but didn’t comment, if the other guests noticed they didn’t either.

“Hmmm.” You hummed ignored the stammering of your host, instead turning towards the banker, “When money is involved, the banks always have an opinion, so tell me, what do you think of all this?”

The Muun was clearly uncomfortable with the sudden amount of attention on him, but cleared his throat before giving an obviously rehearsed answer, “The Banking Clan does not interfere with any business outside of our own, but no matter your decision if you should need a loan, the banking clan would be honored to work with you to draw one up.”

“How generous, and I’m sure you’ll be the first ones to hear if our economy does crash.” You mused, taking a sip of your wine as the banker gaped at you.

“I’m sure I don’t understand what you mean.” He humphed, the blue hologram flickering. You offered a sweet smile. 

“I’m sure you don’t.” The phrase was innocuous but the smirk on your face told everyone exactly what you meant. You even earned a chuckle masked as a cough from Rex behind you.  Apparently, some of the other guests had had enough of you.

 “Did your parents send you here just to mouth off?” One of the members of the technounion, the one you didn’t know, snapped, and the room went silent as you stared at him. You waited a moment longer than what would have been comfortable before laughing directly in the Skakoan’s face, or well, mask considering they wore those ridiculous suits.

Quieting yourself, you looked to the man who had snapped at you, not many were brave enough to openly insult you to your face, so you’d give him that, 

“First of all, sorry I didn’t get your name,”

“It’s-“ He started but you just kept going.

“No, no, I didn’t ask it doesn’t matter, my parents didn’t send me. Since our senator is still recovering from an assassination attempt,” you paused again to flash a seemingly meaningless look at the Neimodian beside Dodd who flinched, before continuing, “Out of all my siblings and all the royal officials, I was appointed to come here, no, not to mouth off, you’re right, but to represent my planet’s wellbeing and interests. But mouthing off to people who give me dumb proposals sure is a bonus.”

The Skakoan stuttered for a moment before Lott Dodd drew your attention back to him, raising his voice and slapping a hand against the table, this caused Captain Rex to shoot his hand towards the holstered blaster on his hip. You simply reach back out of the other guests sight, not stopping until you hand found his armored knee, a silent show to let him go on. And go on he did.

“Princess (Y/L/N). I realize you're young, princess, but I’ll ask you to respect my guests.”

“Representative Dodd.” You mirrored, slapping the table lightly, "I’ll ask you to show me some respect. I have many drawbacks as a person, but my age isn’t one of them so I you insist on taunting me find something better. Furthermore, don’t assume I’m so young and naive to let you bully and trick me into something that will only benefit you.” “The princess is right, the senate won’t be pleased to hear about these contracts. If their economy crashes, the republic would lose its number one weapons and medical supplier.” Padme added before turning to the technounion member, “I’m sure the senate would also want to know what the technounion wants with their Science Division considering almost all their research is for the military. War time makes people paranoid, and I’d hate for anyone to assume anything too terrible”

Tension in the air was thick, and the trade federation was desperate to regain the upper hand. Feeling a storm coming on, you turned back to Rex and beckoned him down to you level.

He obliged as you whispered, “Could you move one of you men where they can get this whole table in the frame and tell them to video record until it’s over? I want to show my advisors exactly what was said and happened here tonight.”

Nodding, he set your plan into action as Lott Dodd tried a new approach, intimidation, “I’m not as radical as some, but I’m sure some in the federation will call for drastic measures if your planet doesn’t wish to compromise with us.”

“I’ve heard how well you compromise.” You challenged, before flicking your eyes around the table. The banking clansmen was listening intently and the Technounion members were glaring at you sharply from behind their goggles. These negotiations, if you could even call them that, were derailing. This time you voice wasn’t a challenge, it was firm, stern, an order. "Since this no longer concerns the rest of you, you may leave.”

The banker was the first to go, his hologram flickering out before your anger could be directed at him, Trev and his parter were next and they filed out with their security droids filing behind them. Padme gave you a look, and you nodded to her assuring her you’d be alright. With one last comforting hand on yours, she got up and gracefully exited but not before throwing one last glare at Dodd. Along the walls most of the droids had dispersed, so you decided to even the playing field. If he wanted to play the intimidation game, you’d play it, but you wanted him to be intimidated by you not your security forces.

Turning to Captain Rex, you loudly announced, “Captain, you and four of your men stay. That should be plenty to escort me back to my quarters when we’re finished. The rest can be dismissed.”

You could tell under his helmet his was not happy with your plan, so quietly you continued, “The trade federation is stupid, but not so stupid as to murder me right here. Besides, there’s maybe 5 droids-“

“6.” He corrected shortly.

“6 droids, you and your men should be more than capable of handling them if it comes to it, which it won’t.”

With a sigh, he carried out your orders and you watched as half the squad filed out before he returned to your side. With that done, you turned back to the three Trade Federation member that sat ten feet across from you.

Currently relaxed in your chair, you gave each of them a once over before adjusting your posture so you sat stick straight, elbows resting on the armrests but hands clasped in your lap, shoulders back and down, chest out, chin up, eyes narrowed. You managed to look down on them despite being ten feet away and a whole foot shorter than all of them.  Captain Rex saw the change in your whole demeanor, you went from conversation to looking like a marble statue on a throne in the blink of an eye. He saw it long before he heard it in your voice which wasn’t far behind.

“Now, I sent them out so you could save face. I’ve shown you that kindness, you’re welcome.” Somehow even you voice had an edge to it, slightly lower than you usually spoke and had a certain coldness that he’d never heard from you. “With them gone, please, feel free to openly threaten my people. The propriety and pleasantries will keep us here all night, and I was hoping to enjoy better company this evening.”

Lott Dodd was stricken silent, so the shorter one next to him nodded fervently, 

“Of course, your majesty, I’m positive we can wrap this up quickly if you-“

He was interrupted by Dodd snapping back to his senses, “If you agree to our proposals, I’m sure we can work out something for your people.”

“Stop calling them proposals, they are demands. They are ransom demands of my people which you haven’t even taken hostage yet.” You remarked, angry words but an icily calm voice.

“I’m not as radical as some of my fellow Tradesmen, but if you insist on bringing it into the conversation, blockades of planets that don’t meet the requirements in our charters are well within our senatorial rights. If you refuse, your planet can be blockaded and sieged until we work something out.”

“I understand I have two options.” You began.

“Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” The third tradesmen smiled, but you weren’t finished yet.

“First, I could sign this charter right now and by the time I return home, my economy would crash, people would starve, citizens would riot, and then, look at that, we’d have to take a loan from the banking clans to stimulate our economy. This lets my people starve and suffer. Second, I could say no to this ridiculous offer and you think you’ll blockade my planet which will again let my people starve and suffer.”

“I do not think, I know.” Lott nodded, finally speaking some truth. This time you shook your head.

“No, you think. First of all, if you blockaded out planet and kept the Grand Army of the Republic from getting it’s much needed supplies during war time under Marshall law- which renders that funny senatorial right of yours null- they have every legal right take care of you for us.” You paused, forcing a bittersweet tone, “War Times can be trying for all of us.”

“Things work so slow in the senate, that could take months. Your people could be with out food and supplies for months, and when politicians, even royals, fall out of favor, well I sure you remember last weeks dreadful incident.”

He was referring to the assassination attempt, there was a twinge of anxiety when you recalled the night but you pushed it down, “I find, actually, that politicians, even royals, are in most danger when they piss off other politicians. But I’m sure you don’t know anything about that, Representative?”

He cleared his throat, “Of course not, princess, regardless of public opinion, a blockade, even a short one, can do untold damage to a planet’s resources. I’m a humanitarian and I’d hate to see your people suffer- starvation, disease, shelter crises, riots…  I hate to see that happen because you wouldn’t sign a treaty with us.”

That was the tipping point, you’d heard and seen enough.

Standing so fast, you tipped over your chair you were quick to cut into the Neimodian, “Even if the military doesn’t come to our aid, if you haven’t noticed every planet you’ve blockaded in the last decade have been crucially underdeveloped weaponry wise. That is not the case of my planet or my people, we will not be afraid to fight back. If you blockade our planet, we will be all too happy to use our ground-to-upper-atmosphere plasma cannons to shoot you out of the sky. So, please, I invite to you blockade my planet, it’ll give me great joy to see you efforts wasted.”

“Secondly, you think I’m so young that I don’t understand the thinly veiled threats on my life? The references to assassins? I’m not a senator, I’m royalty and a threat on my life is considered an act of war. And believe me, my planet will wage a war on the Trade Federate rage and determination, the likes of which, you very well have not seen before.” Words fell from your lips like venom, and though your voice was raised it was a controlled form a shouting that resonated through the whole room, and was honestly much more intimidating than if you were screaming. But you weren’t done yet.

“But, go ahead, threaten me and my life all you want. I simply do not care, but if you threaten my people with suffering like that again,” You stopped, hand falling to the table top and finding its target as your fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife, picking it up and burying it into the polished wood surface, "I will execute you where you stand by my own hand. I don’t relish in the death of others, but unlike others present, I don’t hire assassins, I’ll get my hands dirty for my people. And yes, not only is that a threat, that is, by my family’s name, a promise.”

You paused to take a breath, ready to continue laying into them but Rex placed a a warning hand on your shoulder as if to say, you’ve made your point, stop while you’re ahead. Nodding, though he hadn’t said anything, you observed your audience who were all staring at you in both awe and slight fear.  Breathing slightly heavy, you took one long and slow breath.

“Now,  you better be grateful I’m the person they chose to send because I’m far more understanding than any of my siblings. They would go ahead and cut all charters with the trade federation right this moment, but since I’m much more forgiving… First thing tomorrow morning, you will get a call from my planet’s chief economist and head financial advisors. With them, you’ll devise a new charter that benefits both sides, and I wouldn’t get too greedy considering how tonight went,” You ordered, eyes narrowing in on Lott Dodd, “Please do remember what I told you tonight, all of it.” With that, you turned naturally (re: purposely dramatically) throwing your cape behind you as you went. Your fury was only punctuated by the wind off your cape hitting the Tradesmen who only watched you stride away cape billowing and soldiers marching behind you. _________

Later, that same evening, you were pacing the length of your quarters while Padme reviewed the video you gotten from one of the troopers, Jesse his name was. You’d long since abandoned the cape, formal dress, hair pieces, tiara, and gotten rid of most of your makeup, leaving you in a lounge dress you deemed fit for company. Afterwards, you dismissed your maids for the night- it’d be a while before you could even think about sleep.

Captain Rex had gone to talk to the general’s about tonight’s events which left you alone with the Nubian Senator, not that you minded. You’d considered her a friend long before these peace talks, considering how close you were in age, she was only a handful of years older than you. Even with her there, you were still going over the earlier events. Even though your parents and advisors had already seen and approved your actions, now that the righteous anger had faded you were left with nervous anxiety.

As the video clip ended, Padme looked over to you (you had paced behind the couch she was on) and tried to assure you, “Some may say that you got a little carried away, but other than that I see nothing wrong with this.”

You only hummed in response as you turned and crossed the room again, “If you’re worried about the senate, the proposals were ridiculous and the trade federation is on thin ice after their Pantoran scandal, so the senate won’t look twice at this.” 

This time you nodded as you turned on your heel, but this time, as you strutted past her, she caught you by the wrist and pulled you onto the couch with her. (Part of your head reminded you of how you’d basically put yourself on Rex’s lap to escape Kix’s disinfectant- on that very couch. But you cleared that funny memory before you even got the chance to blush.)

Despite her approval, the approval of every high advisor, and even your own parent’s approval, something still didn’t feel right but you couldn’t find the right word for it. 

Fortunately, Padme seemed to sense this and put a comforting hand on top of yours, “I know how you feel. The feeling that you still have more you want to say, the feeling that you said too much, anxiety about the enemies you might have created, anger that they threatened your people’s safety, frustration you couldn’t do more, fear you didn’t do enough. I had the same feeling with the trade federation years ago, and I wish I had the confidence to talk to them like that, then. And if all this gets out and into the media, your people will be proud to see their princess standing up for their rights. You have nothing to worry about.” 

Just like that, she put that feeling into words and somehow that made it easier to deal with. With a small smile, you took her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you, Padme, your friendship means more than you know.” You admitted, she returned the gesture. 

“For the look on Dodd’s face, I should be thanking you.” She joked to ease the mood, you remembered every single look on his face, and she was right, worth it. To your surprise, she actually leaned forward and hugged you. Returning the embrace, you relished in the touch, not remembering the last time you’d been hugged like this, it was nice. When she pulled away, she smiled again, “Now, you should get some rest, tomorrow is another mass peace discussion and you can’t walk into that with a tired mind.”

With that, she smiled once more before turning to leave. On her way through the door, she was met by Captain Rex who gave her a quick salute as he carried a small tray in. Once the door slid shut, the captain set the tray down on the table nearest you before plucking off his helmet.

“You didn’t eat much at the dinner before it derailed, so I thought you might be hungry. I asked your maid to find something suitable for you- all I had were ration bars and I’ll barely eat them.” He explained. You weren’t hungry at all, but you still thanked him sweetly for his thoughtfulness as you picked at the plate so it wouldn’t be for nothing. This level of thoughtfulness wasn’t part of his job, you thought to yourself before correcting that line of thought. Instead, you imagined the butterflies in your stomach being fumigated, watching him as he did his routine safety checks.

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he simply asked without turning around, “Something wrong?”

Your eyes immediately fell back to the plate, critically analyzing the color and texture of every piece of fruit in the fancy spread, “No, no, I was just worried about what happened tonight but Padme very helpful.”

“She’s a good woman, especially for a politician.” He nodded, checking the balcony doors. Even though you always encouraged him to speak candidly, sometimes his honesty caught you by surprise. You couldn’t help but laugh at his distaste for politicians, a subject that had come up before.

“Yes, she is. And a good friend.” You sighed, picking at the side salad as you shamelessly continued observing him as he checked your closets next. He was tense, something was definitely bothering him. So this time, it was your turn, “What about you, Rex, something wrong?”

Though it was only for a millisecond, you caught that look of I wish I kept my helmet on and the side glance he threw at it where it sat on corner of your bed. Sans helmet, it was much easier to read his emotions, even though he was fairly good at hiding them. You could see him debating on whether or not he wanted to tell you. And for a moment, you feared you’d upset him- you rarely gave firm orders, maybe he was upset you gave him orders at dinner?

Finally he looked over to you and ended your spiraling thought process, “Brave and Impressive as it was, the next time you wish to shoot off like that, please give me some notice. Further more, please keep in mind that one day you might yell at someone who carries a blaster.”

Oh, there was that honesty again. You felt a little hurt for a second until you caught his eyes, and then you understood his plan. Say something just harsh enough to distract you from what was really wrong. You’d play along, for now.

“Well, I’ll try to keep that in mind the next time someone threaten’s my planet’s security, Captain.” You nodded playfully, abandoning the picked over plate to move to your vanity. Scrubbing off the remainder of the makeup, you watched him move from your closet to the floor to ceiling windows, using the wall panel to close the blinds for the night.  

“You know your security is my top priority, (Y/N).” He shot you a glance, half playful, half serious. You relaxed a bit at your name, it made everything less formal and stiff. He seemed to sense this too, so he just continued, “I thought Jesse was going to piss himself when you sassed that banker. We had a closed circuit conversation going during the dinner.”

He explained, and you just smiled taking your hair of of the braid and pulling a brush through it. Through the mirror, you saw his helmet. You’d often wondered about the sound proofing they hand, and now you had your answer.

“Glad I could be of entertainment.” You teased as he disappeared into your bathroom. He emerged shortly afterwards with a small smile.

“Hardcase asked me if you carried a blaster, apparently you seem like ’the type’, whatever that means. He assure me that ’the type’ is a high compliment, apparently Senator Amidala is also ’the type’.” He continued. You always enjoyed hearing him talk about his men, he obviously cared a lot about them, even if they drove him crazy sometimes.

“Well, I think I should know how to fire a blaster before I make a habit of carrying one around.” You thought aloud as you went through the process of putting serums and creams on your skin, a ritual usually reserved for your maids but you were just as capable. Out of your eye sight, Rex cast you a funny look before remembering normal children weren’t brought up learning to assemble, aim, fire, clean, and disassemble every type of firearm the military had access to.

Instead, he offered, “If this place had the facilities, I could teach you.”

You both knew it didn’t, so you just smiled, “Or perhaps, I’ll just try not to get shot.”

“Yes, that works too.” He nodded with a grin, “Well, rooms all clear so you’re free to go to sleep whenever you want to. Unless you need anything else, I need to speak to my men before dismissing them to get some rest.”

He was already walking away by the time you called back to him, “Actually, Rex, before you go, you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He stood wide eyed for a moment before you explained yourself, “Rex, it doesn’t take a Jedi to see that you're tense.”

He stayed silent for a moment longer that you felt comfortable with, so you hid the hurt in your voice with, “Alright, if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Goodnight, Rex.”

But just as you could read his emotions, he had gotten rather good at finding what you really meant from what you said. He could easily hear the disappointment in your voice, so tried to remedy it with a rushed, “No it’s not that, it’s just that I-“

He paused again, so you turned around to fully face him and prodded him to continue, “You what?”

“I’ve... developed some unprofessional feelings during this assignment… for you. And, please don’t take this as a negative light on my men or the Republic. I would never act on it, or let it interfere with this job. I’m not expecting you to do anything or reciprocate anything,” He paused to look away, “You’ve made it very easy to forget who you are, who I am. Made it easy to forget that even on the impossible chance you reciprocate these feelings, that we could never be anything more than what we are right now. But tonight, seeing you command a room like that, as Brave, and amazing, and stunning as that was to see, it was a painful reminder of every reason why it would never work. So, I didn’t want to tell you because it would only hurt the two of us more. ”

You barely heard the last part over the pounding in your ears, sweaty palms balling up your skirt- he was right, knowing but not being able to act on it, especially hearing it from his lips, hurts worse than wondering. He took your silence as the only answer he need as he turned to leave again.

“I, uh, understand if I’ve offended you or made you uncomfortable. So if you’d rather not see me anymore, I can send someone else to be your personal escort for the remainder of this assignment. Just send a maid to tell me by morning.” He instructed stiffly before the door swooshed open. It took a moment for everything to process, but then, before you could stop yourself, you bolted off after him. Catching him by the wrist, you pulled him back into your quarters. It took a moment to gather your thoughts, but after an awkward pause of you just holding his wrist, you stammered,  “That won’t be necessary, Rex, because, these feelings you have, they, uh, don’t bother me because, well, because I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”

For a singular moment, you allowed yourself to forget about your responsibilities. Allowed yourself to think like a normal young woman and be happy you just found out the man you fancied returned you affection, and in that moment that regular young woman threw her arms around his neck and hugged him like her life depended on it. Felt his chin stubble against her face and how his armor poked the softer parts of her body. Slowly, he brought his arms around her waist and held her there, silently enjoying the touch for a long as she would allow herself.

When you pulled away, Rex subconsciously kept a hand on your hip as you looked up to him and pressed one tentative kiss to his cheek- all you dared to do. This time you pulled away and put a bit more distance between you and him and wrapped your arms around yourself to keep from reaching out to him- any closer and you weren’t sure you would say what needed to be said. In the pause, you reminded yourself of every reason you weren’t that regular young woman.

For a moment, you stared at the Captain with sad eyes truly debating if you had to stop yourself. Firmly, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities, but Rex already knew you had made up your mind. Still, he let you speak, knowing it was more for you than for him.

“I’m sorry, but you were right. Even though we share these feelings, nothing can come of it- we both have responsibilities.” At first you tried to keep you voice clear, as if you were addressing the public, but that didn’t work so you switched back to you normal tone, softer and just for him, “Rex, I don’t even want to know the punishment for this, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because of me. So, you’re right let's just end this before we both get hurt, and just carry on as we were before, right, Rex?”

You’d never asked for guidance, and Rex considered being selfish, but he knew he couldn’t do that to you. You were asking because you needed him to tell you that you were doing the right thing, and if you needed his strength he’d give it to you.

“Of course, we’ll carry on and get through this just like we have been.” He assured you, which even though you knew it was the right thing, it was the exact opposite of what you wanted to hear. Rex turned to leave after a quiet goodnight and this time you let him.

“I just never thought you‘d be-“ You started with a sad smile, but the door cut you off, Captain Rex never even heard you over the door closing, separated the two of you physically as you had just done metaphorically, you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing though, “the first person I loved.”

You comm unit beeped on your nightstand, Rex’s voice immediately followed, “I’m sorry did you need something, I thought I heard you say something.”

You quickly answered, forcing a nonchalant tone, “No, just talking to myself. Goodnight, Rex.”

“Goodnight, your highness.”

Somehow that stung worse than ending something that never had its chance. But that’s the price of royalty.

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Will you ever write a sequel of the Braxton Hicks story you wrote a few months ago? I just can't get the idea of Obi-Wan panicking and maybe almost missing the birth out of my head. Btw, I love your writing, keep at it!

- hicks, pt.2 - 

​The pain was blinding.

Everything was screaming in agony with each passing second, as if the baby was trying to tear her apart from the inside out and she can vaguely recall the mid-wife telling her that she would know the difference between Braxton-Hicks and the real thing. The woman was right, these are so, so much worse than anything she could have imagined.

"We're going to transfer you to the medical wing, your grace." One of her guards - the pain was too much for her to remember which - had told her.

"Obi-Wan." She says, "Where is Obi-Wan?"

There were only a handful of people within Sundari palace that knew the true parentage of her unborn child; a decision that both she and Obi-Wan had made when they first discovered she was pregnant in order to provide plausible deniability should anyone she didn't outwardly trust get questioned. Even with the hopeful outlook that the war would be ending there was till always the threat of someone seeking to harm her Jedi Knight, and he had sworn that they would never be collateral for his actions.

She had her own reasons too, of course. While Mandalore was prospering with it's new dawn of peace, there will always be those that won't forget that bloodshed between their people and the Jedi.

"We'll track him down ma'am," A nursemaid told her, "We'll send for him to meet you in the delivery room immediately."

Delivery room.

Delivery room.

Delivery room.

The baby was coming for real this time, and Obi-Wan was nowhere to be found.

----

"You're seven centimeters dilated, Satine." The doctor had told her shortly after another wave of pain crashed over her, "We won't have you push until you reach ten."

"I can't-" She pauses and sucks in a ragged breath as the most recent contraction makes itself known, "I can't have this baby without Obi-Wan here."

The doctor looks at her, both sympathy and amusement written across his features, "I'm sorry to say that they tend to come out when they please. But you have some time between now and then, he very well could get here before you have to start pushing."

When he leaves she's overcome with the crippling fear of loneliness. How could she ever manage to do this without him? All those nights they spent together, discussing the possibility of what would happen if he wasn't there when she went into labor was suddenly a reality, and the sadness that it brought was so heart crushing.  

They both had known of course that this was always part of the reality; that he may be off saving the galaxy somewhere else while she tries to bring their child into the world. But how she had hoped that the stars would align in their favor just this once.

And oh, she dreads how much guilt that he will carry around if he were to miss this. There would never be a harsher critic of Obi-Wan than Obi-Wan himself.

The door to the room opens, and for a moment she's filled with delight only for it all to be taken away from her when she realizes it's not him, but simply the mid-wife.

"Your grace," She says with a slight bow, "We've contacted Senator Amidala as you requested, she said she will send word to Master Kenobi as soon as she tracks down his location."

Satine nods solemnly, "Thank you. Please send word if you receive a response. I want updated no matter what the news is."

The young girl nods obediently and scurries out of the room. Yes, surely Padme would be able to track him down. She almost always knows where Anakin is, and where there is Anakin there's normally Obi-Wan not too far behind.

She thinks back to their conversation from the night they had thought she was going into labor, when they had gone back to bed after the scare of the Braxton-hicks had worn off.

"Oh, I’m petrified. But I’m more afraid of not being here when you actually do go into labor. The baby being born tonight would have been a bit unexpected, but at least I would have been here to go through it with you. The thought of you going through labor alone-”

“I want you by my side. Always.” She tells him, “But that is not the way we have chosen to live. If you are off saving the galaxy, then I will make sure our child knows that.”

“You are extraordinary.”

The pain subsides for a moment when she thinks of that night; how he had held her until she finally slipped back into a dreamless sleep. It was one of the rare occasions that he had been there for more than a single days time. He had been called away on a mission not long after, and had only just returned yesterday according to Padme.

He smiles and rubs his hand up and down the length of her stomach, “Wearing you out already.”

She reaches up and presses a lazy kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Well, they are your child, I would expect nothing less. You certainly like making my life difficult.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not even going to humor you with a response.”

A soft laugh escapes her just as her eyes begin to flutter close, “Next time you’re here they better be real.”

“Next time."

She grips the bedsheets tightly in her hands as another contraction blindsides her, and it wasn't long until the doctor and an assortment of nursemaids flooded the room, one of the younger ones holding her hand gently as the pain begins to subside and force does she wish that it was Obi-Wan's hand more than anything right now.

"You're at nine centimeters," the doctor informs her, "One more centimeter and you're going to start pushing."

​Everything inside of her hurts, from the aching in her chest from Obi-Wans lack of a presence to the baby that was trying so desperately to come out of her. It's the most overwhelming thing she's ever experienced and she vows then and there that he was never, ever going to get her pregnant again.

"Have you picked out a name?"

She stares blankly at the doctor, thrown off by the sudden inquisitiveness.

"A name?" The contractions were more frequent than before, one after another and she could hardly think straight.

"For the baby," he says, "Talk to me Satine, it'll help distract you."

She wants to laugh and tell him that she doesn't think anything can distract from this, but she doesn't have the energy.

"We've discussed a few," She says, letting out a slow and measured breath, "It all depends on what if they're a boy or girl. We wanted-" She pauses and takes in a deep breath, "To wait and meet them before choosing a name."

One of the nurses wipes at her forehead with a cool rag and smooths her hair back and out of her eyes.

"Are you hoping for a boy or girl?" The doctor continues, flashing her an encouraging smile.

"I'm hoping for a healthy baby." She says, because it's true. While the idea of having a daughter who she could dote on as she got older was certainly appealing, having a mini version of Obi-Wan running around in a son warmed her heart just as much. In the end, all that mattered was that they were healthy and here with her.

"We're going to find out very shortly." He tells her, "You're fully dilated. You're going to have to start pushing."

The urge to cry over takes her; partly due to the pain, partly in anticipation to finally meeting the child she had carried for 9 months, and partly because she would have to have this baby without Obi-Wan.

"I can't." She tells him, gripping the nurses hand even tighter.

He looks at her with sympathy and she can only imagine the state she must be in, "I'm sorry Satine, but it's time. I need you to push."

She doesn't want to do this without him, but she knows they're at the point of no return. She was going to have to have this baby.

"Push." He instructs her.

The pressure in her shifts, and it suddenly feels better and worse at the same time. The rapid contractions hurt worse, but she was so exhausted and she's certain that she just didn't have the strength to do it.

"Push."

She shuts her eyes tightly and focuses all her energy on trying to push. She's gripping the nurses hand so tightly she's certain she would snap the poor girls fingers if she put anymore of her strength into it.

"Push."

But then the hand holding hers suddenly lets go and is replaced by another. One so familiar that it causes her eyes to snap open.

​"Obi-Wan."

He smooths her hair back with his free hand and smiles lovingly at her, "I was on my way here when I received Padme's distress signal. I wouldn't have dared missed this."

For the first time since her contractions started she smiles and thanks whatever omnipotent force is there looking after her.

"Keep pushing Satine." The doctor instructs.

She grips Obi-Wans hand as tight as she can manage, his presence providing her with a newfound strength and she pushes with everything she has in her.

A cry fills the room.

---

When she wakes up hours later, she finds that the last few hours of daylight had came and went, leaving only the white light of the moon to illuminate the room.

Obi-Wan stands in front of the window overlooking the city, swaying gently as he stares at the bundle in his arms. A warmth spreads through her at the sight; an overwhelming wave of love so strong that she's certain it'll bring her to tears at any moment. Nothing would ever compare to watching the love of her life cradle the blessing they made together.

"Obi-Wan." She says softly.

He turns and looks at her, smiling adoringly before glancing back to the sleeping infant.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up," He says quietly, coming over to sit on the edge of her bed, "You've been asleep for a good while now."

"Giving birth does tend to tire the body out," She says with a soft laugh before focusing her attention on the infant, "She's perfect,"

He shifts their daughter into her arms without question., She feels complete; as if this was the piece that shes been missing in her life all these years.

"She has your hair," She says, brushing her fingertips over the soft auburn fuzz that decorated her head, "I was hoping she'd be a redhead like you."

He leans down and pressing a kiss to Satine's temple before coming to fully lay down beside her. She wastes no time pressing herself into his side and dropping her head on his shoulder. This was what she had always wanted, a family with the man she loved. It wasn't lost on her how lucky she was, that they very well could have lived out their separate lives and never have created something so beautiful and wonderful as their daughter.

"I love you, Satine."

This time she can't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes.

"I love you too, Obi-Wan, More than you could ever possibly know.", She looks down to her daughter, "And I love her more than I thought possible."

He nuzzles her hair with the tip of his nose, "We only had one name for a girl we both agreed on."

Satine nods, "So it's decided. Jinn Kenobi-Kryze."

He kisses her then, the first time he's been able to do so in upwards of two months and it reminds her just how much she misses him when he's gone, and how she only loves him more each time he comes home.

"She's perfect." He affirms.

And for the first time in forever, she knows everything is going to be alright.

[threehousesaddict]

Golden Deer Boys Tea Headcanons pt. 1

Anonymous asked: “ Angelica Tea with the Golden Deer please~ “

Headcanons for the girls!!

Angelica Tea

- What’s the most mundane thing that makes them happy?

Claude ~

anything even remotely satisfying

if Claude had access to videos on YouTube, he would be constantly watching satisfying clips over and over

he would just absolutely adore seeing everything fit into place perfectly

he also feels this way about parties or feasts, seeing everyone in the room enjoying themselves due to his precise planning just makes him the happiest guy in the room

especially if he picked the guest list for everyone to have a pair that he sees fit, including paring you with him

having all of his friends around him, no one feeling left out in the slightest would just bring a smile to his face that truly reaches his eyes

Lorenz ~

this man loves to listen to the choir sing

yes of course he wants to do it himself, but when he hears a voice that is exceptional, he can’t help but appreciate it and listen intently

it makes him even more excited when he finds out the lovely voice he has been listening too for the past few choir classes has been catching his attention is other ways as well

learning such a beautiful human also has a beautiful voice just sends him over the moon so he can not stop spewing compliments at you after his discovery of your multiple remarkable attributes

Ignatz ~

he really enjoys visiting the sauna

it’s a place where he can take off his glasses and truly relax knowing he’s in a safe place away from the pressures of being a knight

it also gives him a nice quiet place to contemplate his next artistic adventure

Ignatz also likes to have company with him in the steam to just enjoy the comfortable silence together and maybe share a few heart to hearts about anything

Raphael ~

Raphael really likes it whenever someone fixes something of his, especially his clothes that have been ripped in battle or from him flexing too hard

he doesn’t seem too worried about the small tear in his shirt or the hole in his pants but when you take the time to sew them back up the man can’t help but yell his gratitude your way

and if you take the extra time to fix his gauntlets or maybe the chair he broke last week from standing on it to victory cry, the man is at a loss for words from just being so happy you exist and can notice all of the little things about him that he doesn’t take a second time to notice

may even bring tears to his eyes...

what a bunch!! I would love to hear any headcanons you guys have for these lads so please don’t be afraid to share!!

more of my work like this <3

[if-the-crown-fits-translate-it]

Discord pt 36

[Date: 22/02, 06:52 AM - 07:29 AM GMT]

[Direct continuation of pt 35]

fetch: “so. let me see if I have this straight.

i was talking to crown about... something. i dont remember what. crown turns me into a court member. Knight? Knight.”

fetch: “knight does. things. I don’t remember anything I supposedly did as knight but it feels like I’ve run a marathon and this migraine is awful and this nosebleed is the worst”

fetch: “and then all of a sudden I wake up and I don’t know where i am and i don’t know why I’m here and I don’t remember where I’ve been or what I did I don’t remember”

Little-K1ng: “ yeah uh .. . .. .the taxidermy .... haha remember the opossum?? you kinda. brougth that up..”

fetch: “taxidermy right you do that don’t you”

[Redacted]: “fetch if you don’t know where you are you might want to leave crown might be near”

fetch: “no i need to remember. this is important it needs to be written down.”

[People express concern]

fetch: “obviously i’ll be careful. this is me we’re talking about.”

fetch: “I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE I AM. I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE. its fucking freezing.”

fetch: “no lights. phone’s at 56% i don’t want to waste battery by using flashlight. can only hear crickets and night animals”

fetch: “there’s a break in the foliage leading up to where I woke up. I might follow the trail. I had to have come from somewhere”

[People tell them to be careful]

fetch: “of course. watchdogs are always alert.”

jayyyyyyyy: “how did you get stuck in the damn woods--”

fetch: “wish i fuckin knew buddy”

fetch: “ugh my tail.

almost hurts worse than my head.”

fetch: “who the fuck bound it in a straight position it literally couldn’t move”

fetch: “i read the notes. knight sad he doesn’t have a tail. it was probably crown. sick fuck.

i am focusing”

fetch: “its so fucking cold.

editor wilbur irl I guess”

[People tell them to save battery]

fetch: “oh yeah i always have power saving on

a full battery can last all day”

[moon: “make sure to stay quiet and not leave a trail of blood too”]

fetch: “the nosebleed isnt that bad but its all over my shirt and tie and hands and face and hair at this rate I can dye my ears back with my blood lmao”

fetch: “i have nothing to stop the blood anyway”

[People suggest ripping off a part of clothing]

fetch: “I dunno the nosebleed is really uncanny. its only coming from the left side of my nose. reminds me of a nightmare I had a while ago. before all this crown stuff.

[Warning on next picture for talk of gore]

fetch: “i dont remember much of the nightmare. it was a couple weeks/months ago and my memory isn't the best. it gets nasty so I can spoiler it. but I rememeber that I was pulling my brain out of my nose. and part of it got stuck and every time I pulled it set my head on fire. I woke up and the rest of the day my nose hurt.”

emuhlee: “the brain part could have a bit to do with brainwashing? have you found anything by going back to where you came from?”

fetch: “it was just a nightmare. and it was before I found out about crown.”

fetch: “ive found a bit of a more worn trail. im just gonna follow it and pray.”

[People tell them to stay safe and with them good luck]

fetch: “a dog always finds his way back home right?”

jayyyyyyyy: i dont wanna hear ab dogs ever again in this server jesus /ic

fetch: “oh come on we aren’t that bad /lh”

fetch: “i mean I saw that knight was scared of dogs. I used to as well when I was a kid.”

kate: “..hm nah that’s a dumb idea sorry”

Ethan: “what’s your idea?”

fetch: “yeah whats up”

kate: “So what I had a thinky thought about, and this could be stupid because we've only gotten one thing, but Fetch just said that he was scared of dogs as a kid. I'm wondering if this... brainwashing more or less reverts you back a certain number of years? Like if you were scared of something as a kid, but now you're older and got brought into the Court, would you be scared of the same things you were scared of when you were younger? I have no basis for this idea because we've only gotten Fetch back, but if we somehow managed to get Pa- Max back, we could see if it lines up.”

fetch: “hm.

pretty plausible, maybe”

fetch: “or i guess i was just easier to appreciate as a younger kid. crown wants us to be happy. i definitely used to be happier”

wilboo soot: “Fetch? You’re back, as Fetch?”

fetch: “yeah hi boo”

wilboo soot: “MY ADMIN IS BACK”

fetch: “YEAH YR ADMIN IS BACK :D RETURN OF THE KING”

[People theorize more on Crown reverting people to how they were younger]

fetch: “I think crown just takes the mentality thats easiest to be happy. for me it was when I was a kindergartener with no worries at all and I just watched scooby doo and blues clues and I ate dinosaur nuggets on fridays if I was good in school and we had a trampoline in the backyard and I was just. just a kid.”

wilboo soot: “That checks out yeah...

Well, guess I know that I’m completely immune from being taken now! /hj”

kate: “Mood!”

fetch: “pff

I see a wider trail now.

looks like the forest is ending.”

fetch: “residential area? I think?”

fetch: “I hear cars. busy, so it must be a main road

I see houses.”

fetch: “I think I’m in a backyard.

yeah backyard.”

fetch: “oops. sorry to whose tomatoes these are.

wait.”

fetch: “wait i know this back porch.”

Little-K1ng: “oh tomatoes ?? how healthy”

fetch: “WAIT.

MONA.”

fetch: “LOOK AT YOUR BACK DOOR RIGHT NOW”

Little-K1ng: “huh??”

fetch: “MONA HEY

BACKDOOR

BACKYARD”

fetch: “MONA MONA :D”

Little-K1ng: “KNOCKING WAIT?? HANG ON IRL KNOCKING”

fetch:  “MONA HEY

HEY HEY PSPSPSPSPS LET YOUR DOGBOY IN HES COLD”

Little-K1ng: “WHAT HELLO JDFHGJKFDHGJDHJ”

fetch: “HI HELLO SORRY FOR BEEDINY ON YOUR PORCH”

Little-K1ng:  “💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕”

fetch: “MONA HI :D”

fetch:  “❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️”

Little-K1ng:  “HELL OOH YHEY HEY OH YM OGD FJHDJKHGJKDHJK JESUS THE BLOOD IS LIUKE. EVERYWHERE LMAO”

fetch:  “YEAH SORRYYY Y Y YY

INTOLD YALL IT WAS BAD

OKAY GUYS IN GONNACLEAN UP AND WARM UP AND HAVE A

SLEEPOVER LOL

ILL BE OKAY :]”

[People express concern, and tell them to stay safe]

fetch: “I care u all ! will be back to guarding the doc soon. for now I need other watchdogs to step in till I get back”

fetch: “just make sure crown or the court don’t touch it”

[Edit to the doc by fetch:]

{“Watchdog is back outside. get the fuckin squirrels out of the yard.”}