#she's a ruthless woman don't let the tears fool you

[bklynmusicnerd]

There's just something about Angela going on and on about Leah being "like a daughter" to her while not even attempting the slightest of hints to warn her about the Makensy betrayal coming her way. Left her "daughter" for dead. Very Medea of her.

[ochomasaio]

Gojo Satoru ex husband

You try to leave Satoru in the past but let's be honest, he is Gojo Satoru, he never stays behind. After some months of searching you, there you are, on the opposite sidewalk.

You were his little sunshine, the pure source of positive energy in his ruthless everyday life. And now you had made him the happiest man in the world again after your positive pregnancy test.

He is Gojo Satoru but he is also a human. He made a big mistake. Drinking and ending up sleeping with another woman. Satoru truly didn't know that the woman wasn't his wife. He wasn't in place to understand that. He called the women by his wife's name all night they spent together.

Morning wasn't late to come and wake up next to that woman. In 1 minute he was already out of the apartment. He never had been ready faster. He runs home and tries to remember last night. Open the door and call for you. Nothing, search every room and again nothing. Calling you? Your phone was closed. His pulse began to rise. Is it possible you found out? So fast. He hadn't realized it yet. Did something else happen?

Ready to leave in search of you his blue eyes fell on a note on the compound by the door. But that wasn't the scary part, your wedding ring. You had placed it on top of the note. He grabbed the note and read it like water.

I believed we had a happy marriage

I had. I wish you all the goods

Y/N

Only that. You haven't written anything else. The baby? Oh! No god wouldn't be scared of him right now. You leave so fast, how the heck was it possible to find out so quickly? Someone must have told you about that. Oh! If he finds him he will't be able to tell even "good morning" without thinking twice, if he lets him talk again.

Now it had been 7 months since the day you left. His life was worse than ever. He had vowed to find you no matter what. He slept little, ate little and worked non-stop. The divorce papers you had sent him months ago from an unknown location were still untouched on his desk. There was no way he would positively sign off on this divorce.

He was sitting in the back seat of the car on his way home from Jujutsu Technical High School, stopped in traffic. Lost in his thoughts watching the cars go by, passers-by coming and going. And there! There you were! He couldn't believe it! You were walking on the sidewalk so close to his house. You were under his nose all this time. Wide eyes, a half-open mouth that almost created a smile. You were walking so beautifully, wind was blowing your hair in the spring breeze. A beautiful spring dress that erased your 7 months pregnant belly.

As quickly as he recognized you, he jumped out and appeared in front of you.

"My love. Y/N I find you!" Satoru said barely held back tears with his huge palms holding your tiny ones. You weren't as happy as him to watch him. Well that was lie. You were as happy as him to watch him again. To touch you. After 7 months in an unknown country he was there. But you don't let your heart fool you. You didn't show him that you missed him.

"What do you mean? You are coming with me. You are my wife!" No you don't. You ask him to leave you alone but his love for you was huge enough to even let you blink without helping you from now on. "You are my wife! Of course I didn't sign the fucking papers!" "I love you! You know it! About that night -" You didn't want to hear that. It doesn't matter anymore! He sleeps with another woman even if he had regret it, you didn't know he was drunk anyway. You thought it could happen again. She wouldn't go back with him. You would go back to your family. Raise the child there. You were crazy to think that Gojo Satoru would you even think to let you do that.

The tension had increased, you had to limit your conversation somewhere else. The small house you were renting was a few steps away. All in all it was a room with a bathroom and besides it was cold. How the hell did you stay there pregnant woman. He turned his gaze a little and saw an electric heater. He had left you to live alone, in your condition, in this cold place. He was trying to contain himself thinking about you trying to warm up to it. What did you eat? "I'm taking your things and we go home, I'm gonna cook-" You had made your decisions. You wouldn't let him break your heart again.

"Baby, come on, your things, your life is back in our house." The only things you left behind were the ones he had bought you himself. As long as you were married, he didn't let you work. He wanted you to live comfortably, he never believed that his money was only his. They were yours.

How could he convince you to stay with him, that it was a mistake. You couldn't take this argument, this pressure anymore. You felt a sudden malaise, holding your stomach with one hand and the other trying to support yourself on him. He tried to help you recover, he wanted to but all he ended up doing was calling your name with you in his arms. You opened your eyes and tried to recover. He would take you to the hospital right now. But you didn't want to, you just needed to get your face wet.

He could not understand how you were so insensitive to your health and that of your child. He refused not to visit the hospital. You just passed out! And oh my god! He also lost his own land under his feet when you looked at him with pain and told him that you had passed out again. In a place like this. Without help. If you didn't wake up? Stop his thoughts of the scenario before imagining your destiny.

Here you go again, in your shared bedroom. You stand up from the bed but before standing in your feet he stops you and puts you back to lay down. As long as you were asleep he ended up calling a doctor and checking you up at home. You accept your loss. You weren't able to leave him behind. But he knows that soon or later you would understand and forgive him but until then here he is protecting you, keeping you warm and full of food 24/7.

[royal-skull-princess]

Yandere Dark Purveyors Headcanon

Author's Note: I was chatting with a friend online that used to be on tumblr until her account was deleted for some reason & we were chatting about this. I asked many other people to make a request of this, but they either busy with other requests or just not interested. So, I decided to make one myself. Enjoy!

To say the least, it's chaotic....literally chaotic!

Out of all the members, Zed would be the more clinging one. He would've threatened just about anybody who looks at you the wrong way.

Mariska would be one of those scary types of obsessive zombies. At first, she seems to be chill & relaxed like many hippies are. But slowly, she begins to reveal her possessiveness over you.

Josey is a pretty more chill zombie than the rest of the band. But it doesn't mean he don't have a obsessive side too. Just Let him see you with another woman/man & you get to see just how jealous he can really get.

Lewis is really a cocky one. He doesn't have to force his love onto his darling. In his mind, they are already into him, right? But like Josey, he will hunt down anyone who dares to even winked at his woman/man.

Despite they're possessiveness,, they would definitely spoil you.

And by spoil, I mean charming you with romantic bike rides, (Lewis) letting you touch Yumil, (Vikke) even cuddles. (All of them)

The good thing about them being scary obsessed zombies is that they each have a soft spot for you...

The worses part though, they can be aggressively jealous when it comes to rivals.

Let's say that one day, you decided to reject they're feelings for you...

It doesn't end well........for you....

The only ones who wouldn't understand the meaning of rejection at first is Zed, Vikke, & Josey, who would brush it off as a joke. But as soon they relized your....it's h**l on earth!

For one, Lewis would take it the worst. He will go out on a length & hunt down whoever stole his lover's heart.

Mariska would be chill about it. But don't let that fool you you. On the inside, it's like a tornado of jealousy.

And if you decided to leave them, you might wanna convince your other lovers to stay at your place.

And you might need to lock your doors & windows.

Cause as soon as you do, they're coming after, not just them...........you

Don't think they are going to let you get away with leaving them for another lover.

There are just so many ways they can get rid of their rivals you come across.

Zed will have his mosh pit army tear your new lover apart from limb to limb.

Vikke would ripped them apart with his brute strength, hoping to show you what he do with rivals, or even feeding them to Yumil.....or himself.

Lewis wouldn't be making a mess in the living realm. He drag them to his realm & kill them there, by shooting alot of holes in they're body.

Mariska can use her illusions to drive anyone crazy like they were on drugs or something, giving her enough time to kill them off....slowly & painfully.

Josey on one hand, can just turn them into a mindless undead minion when he feels that they could be threat to love growing between you & him.

With the lover out of the way, they're gonna lay low for a while until the time is right to strike.

Heck, they're probably going to start a apocalypse to get you if they have to.

Before you know it, you'd be finding yourself either trapped in one of Mariska's bubble traps or chained to a poll on Vikke's ship.

Obviously, there are going to be alot of ruthless fights with everyone except you, on the count on who gets to keep you & you know.......cuddles.

You can always count on your friend Juliet to protect you.....if she's still alive.

Just pray that things will end for the better for you.......while you're dealing with some undead unwanted admirers.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO - Night Watch

In conclusion, your honor, they both are terrible.

tw: discussions on police, policing, militia and the aftermath of war.

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"Your entire institution is predicated on prejudice. On a system of checks and balances that is, frankly, broken. And if I may so say, utterly..." He lets the word roll off his tongue like a profanity. "Piltovan."

Her eyelids flicker. "I beg your pardon."

"I am not speaking ill, Councilor. Merely stating facts. You can't wave a wand and restructure a system built on grinding one-quarter of its population into the dirt."

"We are attempting to rectify—"

"You are merely patching a leaky roof. The rest of the house remains dilapidated." He gestures toward the Skylight Commercia: a dome of glass, the emerald sky a luminous curvature overhead. "Worse, it's built on burial grounds. A tomb of Zaunite bones."

Medarda considers him from beneath veiled lashes. "You paint a bleak picture."

"Zaun was forged on fatalism." Silco's tone is wry. "We know how to make do."

"With blackguards?"

"That's a false equivalency."

"Is it? I've heard they can be quite... ruthless."

Silco smiles, a cold sliver of teeth that says, Ah ah ah.

"Blackguards and Enforcers have nothing in common. Yours are centralized, and the officers have scant contact with the public. They hide behind masks. Their salaries are too high; their privileges too many. They don't answer to those they protect. They answer only to the Council. Small wonder they've piss-poor local knowledge." Crooking a finger, he traces the Enforcers' rigid formation: two ranks, four soldiers per line. "Look at yours. They have no idea how to interact with Zaun's populace. They see a child, and they move her by force. They see a lone woman, and they harass her. They see a pair of punks, and they think, Here’s a meat-shield." 

He gestures at his blackguards, an idle fan of fingers that runs parallel to the splayed smoothness of their trajectory. "Mine know how to keep a low profile. How to read a situation. How to deal with a problem without creating ten more. That's because they belong to the very neighborhoods they patrol. They know the city's rhythms intimately, and the informality fosters trust among Zaunites. They're also disseminated by zone, and answerable to the underbosses, who in turn report to the head of War and Treasury. It means no single authority has a stranglehold on their loyalty. Their stake is the city." 

"How... democratic."

"Democracy is a pipe dream. Hierarchies will always exist, no matter the system. It's Topside’s leftovers that I would have replaced."

"With a wartime militia?"

"Don't feign naïve. The post-conflict period is always the most volatile. A highly mobile security force that isn't stymied by long chains of command is necessary to deal with the chaos. Else foreign infiltration will take hold, and freedom fall to the wayside." His tone downshifts from censure to caveat. "I trust you don't need reminding." 

Medarda's features flicker with a muted challenge: I hear the hypocrisy and will raise you double. 

"I do not," she says. "But independent militia can easily become tools of extensive repression."

"If you fear the rise of a fascist regime," Silco says, "that is because you lack a basic understanding of how the Fissures work. Zaun isn't a grid of building blocks. It is a patchwork quilt. One piece is not interchangeable with the next. The districts each have different social, spatial and economic profiles. The locals have strong ties with their neighbors. And a fierce antagonism to top-down authority. Here, everyone is connected. An information network that spans every inch of the city. You can't subdue it with violence. We'd rise up again. If a monolith arose in our midst, we'd tear it down. We're fond of monsters. But we’ve no use for kings." Rueful, he shakes his head. "I'd be a fool to crown myself one."

Medarda stares at him. It's as if, out of a morass of misconstrual and treachery, she's glimpsing the first silhouette of truth. Her eyes, green and gold, show glimpses of a woman—a girl?—who is struggling to surface.

"So what is the end-game?" she asks.

"Mine—or Zaun's?"

"Both." She backtracks, clarifying. "What is your plan for the blackguards? They are wartime militia. Zaun is at peace. Surely you intend to disperse them."

Silco's scarred lip pulls upward. "Put a lid on the pot and it'll boil over, hm?"

"Will you let the fires burn?"

"I'll let the fires die first, Councilor. Once the situation is stable, we'll reassess." He stops, contemplative. "You know, in my younger days, we had a Night Watch. It was a volunteer initiative. Groups of men and women who patrolled the streets, keeping vigilant for troublemakers."

"They were disbanded for brutality. Councilor Hoskel told me—" 

"Oh, I can well imagine what he told you." He mimics the gruff-voiced, toadying bluster. "’Bunch of cutthroats themselves. Who'd they be looking to catch? Each other?’"

The curve of Medarda's lips compresses with laughter. In all ways, the caricature is devilishly on-point. 

"Something to that effect," she says. "I was inclined to dismiss it."

"You'd be wise to. The Night Watch weren't disbanded for brutality. They split for their own safety. The moment the Wardens caught wind, they branded them as a gang.  Enforcers were deployed in droves. It became too dangerous to stay in operation."

"What happened to them?"

"Some were arrested and sent to Stillwater. Others died fighting back." He shrugs. "All were labeled criminals."

"Why do you bring it up?"

"Because I believe we can revive it. The Night Watch was an experiment. But a promising one. They knew the neighborhoods and understood the terrain. Best of all, they understood the people. They had the same history; the same heritage. They knew the difference between a threat and a rowdy drunk. Under their aegis, it was safe for children to play in the streets. Safe for young women to walk alone. They weren't an occupying force. They were locals helping locals." 

"How is that different from the Firelights?"

[nukiiszn]

Calderon was never a man known to fool around.

Since his upbringing in Goldis and the very beginning of his hatred for the system of his planet, Calderon took his convictions to heart and he stood by them relentlessly.

It's an admirable quality in a soldier; it was the very foundation of Calderon's pride. He would not involve himself in something if he wasn't certain of it, if he wasn't sure he'd see it to the end.

The only mistake he has ever made, the only living example that tears and claws at his values and foundations, is Damon.

Cold, calculating, irresistible Damon.

Calderon was never one for romance. But if he were to think of his type, he'd imagine an headstrong woman with her own set of convictions, goals, who isn't afraid to rival his own thoughts, who fights for what she sees as just.

He would not have even thought of dreaming of his type coming in the form of a ruthless mercenary from Cursa with a kink for pressing his buttons.

It wasn't love at first sight with Damon, God forbid. Yet, in some twisted, unfathomable way, Damon checked all his boxes.

He's headstrong, with strong convictions, who matches Calderon's every move with his own counter. And fuck, as soon as he opened that mouth of his, Calderon couldn't stop thinking about him.

Every snarky remark, every teasing nickname, every cheshire grin, it stuck to him and never let go. And Calderon would rather die than admit how he'd spent multiple sleepless nights overwhelmed by thoughts of the mercenary.

And lack of sleep makes you irrational, Calderon tells himself. You don't think straight when you're tired, he likes to think. That must be why he did what he did that night.

That must be why he stormed into the cockpit where he knew Damon lingered at the late hours of night. That must be why he pressed Damon up against a wall and smashed his own lips against the assassin's. That must be why Damon didn't hesitate to kiss back.

They were both sleepy. Both irrational.

Except Damon was at his most rational past midnight.

Damon kissed him back knowing damn well what he was doing.

Damon wrapped his arms around Calderon's neck and tugged at his hair knowing damn well what he was doing.

Damon thrashed and lapped at the captain's lips with a fiery passion only rivaled by Calderon knowing damn well what he was doing.

Damon kept Calderon up for days that turned to weeks knowing damn well what he was doing.

You couldn't make out with Damon and call it mutual. Damon loved it when people kissed him, because it meant they were the vulnerable one in the situation. And Damon loved using people's vulnerability against them, to push and pull and play them like a fiddle.

And Damon leaped at the opportunity to finally, truly get under the commander's skin.

There was no pleasure that matched what he felt when Calderon burned up under the slightest of prods, the slightest of touches.

Damon's teasing nicknames, Damon's veiny palm on his thigh, Damon's breaths over his face, Damon's eyes burning through his, Damon's knowing cheshire grins, Damon, Damon, Damon.

Everything Damon did that was met with a disdainful look or a dismissive glance before was replaced with the most utterly satisfying stammer, or a blush on a lucky day.

The assassin was reeling with amusement at the embarrassment of the captain, and before he knew it, he couldn't get enough. Damon got ahead of himself.

Looks and touches during missions turned to pecks and kisses behind turned heads which turned to passionate make-outs late at night.

Damon couldn't stop pushing Calderon bit by bit, seeing how flustered, how embarrassed he could get Calderon using his words, his mouth, his tongue, his touch.

For a captain, Calderon could never tower over Damon at night like he always did by day. He could never put on that stoic, stick-up-his-ass demeanor and walk all over his second in command.

At night, tucked away in the hidden crevices of the ship, in the darkened spaces and rooms no one walked into, Damon saw Calderon in completely different lights, took in sights of the captain he couldn't begin to dream of.

Calderon never went down without a fight, and that riled Damon on even further.

Every week turned to almost every day, and amidst the swirling sensations of passion and desire, another emotion weaved between them, a feeling that was beginning to swallow them from the bottom up, a feeling neither of the men wanted, or were ready to label.

Until Calderon was just sleep deprived enough to think irrationally again.

"Damon."

"Oh, here earlier than I was expecting, commander. Something tells me you're enjoying these little late night escapades more than you'll admi-"

"Be serious for one fucking second, dammit."

"Who says I wasn't being serious? I see something's on your mind, babe. I know you just as well on the outside as I do the inside now."

Calderon clenches his jaw. Damon grins at the reaction.

"Have you ever felt serious about this? About us? What we're doing?"

Damon falls silent this time. Calderon doesn't enjoy the lack of response.

"How serious can we get with this? Do you really think that this- that we- could be more?"

"I know you feel the same way I do, Damon. About us."

"You don't know shit, Cal. You never have."

"Shut up for once." Calderon throws him against the wall.

Damon's surprisingly shocked, and unsurprisingly a little turned on.

"You're the one who's been chasing after me every damn night. You're the one who took it this far. Don't you dare back out of this now, Reznor."

"Wasn't planning on it."

Damon runs his hand through the captain's hair with his typical stoic expression, and Calderon softens slightly.

"We won't last, Cal. I'm not about being serious. Don't even bother."

"Who the fuck says we won't last?"

"Cal, for fucks sake. You're not fucking thinking straight."

"I can't fucking go another sleepless night thinking about this, Damon."

Damon softens, which is not something he does.

"You serious?"

"More than anything."

The lack of hesitation, the conviction in Calderon's voice, it wells a large heap of emotion within Damon, none of which he's going to let out of his mouth.

He just stares at Calderon incomprehensibly, his hands loosely playing with the blond hair strands.

"It's not like you to be so emotional, Calderon."

"It's not like you to be so hesitant, Damon."

The assassin heaved a tired but uncharacteristically sincere sigh. Damon pulled the older man against his lips, giving the captain a strangely chaste, affectionate kiss, yet Calderon returned it as naturally as he did every other one.

"Fine. You got me. You got your way like you always do. Happy?"

Calderon smiles, and Damon smiles back.

"Yeah."

[doubledgesword-2]

hello! i saw your tumblr page while I was scrolling for headcanons and HOW COME I ONLY FOUND OUT ABT THIS PAGE😭 I love your content and your headcanons about hxh characters😏 so I dropped by and saw that the requests are open👀...so I wanted to request a scenario where Illumi is forced to participate in an arranged marriage by his parents but illumi doesn't like his soon to be wife his parents planned for him bc they're quite annoying and rude (was that too specific 💀) but illumi alr likes someone (his "friend") whom he's pretty close with because they hang out a lot with Hisoka and Illumi.

you don't really have to do this if you don't want to because it's probably too long💀...but still, Thank you so much💕

Heck yeah!! I’m all up for the angst and the heartbreak. One order of Rose tea with extra tears in it coming right up! For all the other lil’ sugarcubes that requested, rest assure your teas are coming. Hope you like this!

Enjoy!

You heard the moment your heart snapped.

Here he was kneeling in front of a woman you had never seen, looking as handsome as ever with a small velvet box open and a ring protruding from the inside.

The pair turned to look at you, and amidst the hurting in your heart, you swallowed the lump in your throat, widened your eyes to stop the tears from falling, and offered a joyous smile.

"Congratulations on your engagement."

"Oh, he isn't finished yet, you interrupted. Please continue, dear husband! You! Retire before I call the butlers to escort you out. You're ruining the moment!" Her high pitch voice grated your ears, and after her words, you felt even worse than before. You schooled your expression and nodded, retreating from their bubble.

But Illumi was looking at you. His head was turned in your direction still, looking how your body screamed sadness, but your smile was so convincing he felt sad himself. Perhaps, you wanted to spend some time with him today, and here he was, declaring his love to someone not worth his while. He wished the woman in front of him was you.

You heard him ask the question in that tone you had learned to love, and her obnoxious shriek of a yes, made the situation sink in further.

Illumi was getting married, and it wasn't to you.

You swallowed thickly and excused yourself, going back to the forest from where you had come, before Illumi could turn to look your way. Illumi's eyes lifted to look for you, all the while trying to pry his 'lover' from his waist, but you weren't there. You left so quietly; your absence discouraged him. His parents came around, and you heard the congratulations from both sets of parents like they just closed a business deal. Amidst your tears, you clamped a hand over your mouth as every word poked the wound in your heart.

And that's how Illumi had found you.

The two of you hadn't seen each other ever since that day with the ring and the yes. Instead, you were cooped inside your apartment, letting the hurt pass. Still, you worked and went on your merry way to solve things whenever something important came up. But even Hisoka was concerned when your kills felt way too heartless or whenever he looked into your eyes and saw nothing.

He wouldn't deny this side of you turned him on quite a lot, but that tiredness of the soul reflected in your eyes killed the mood. He knew something was up, and judging by the lack of Illumi during the work or how you two seemed to ignore each other, him more than you, Hisoka deduced Illumi was the culprit to your emotional state.

Said devil was standing by the window of your apartment on the fire escape. His dark eyes focused on your puffy, bloodshot eyes and how Hisoka comforted you with magic tricks that made you smile and chuckle occasionally. His stomach flipped seeing you smile so tired and hurt.

"It's fine Hisoka, I'll be alright." You said to the magician as he made his way to the door. Your croaky voice truly pulled at his heartstrings; it wasn't often you cried with this type of pain and not over a movie the two of you were watching.

"Mmm, let me know if you need something else (Y/N)-Chan, and if you need someone to punch and fight, always give me a call~," You snorted and pushed him out, giggling.

"Goodbye, Soka" The minute the magician was out, your smile fell, replaced by an exhausted look.

You closed the door, not turning around; you couldn't feel it in you to face the deafening silence in your apartment.

"(Y/N)" Illumi called, and in your mind, you thought you were hearing things. You missed him so much your mind was hearing him called your name longingly.

Turning slowly, prepared to be disappointed, you were greeted by Illumi standing in your living room. You gasped. He stood right under the light, and it wasn't fair how beautiful he looked in comparison to your puffy eyes and lifeless eyes.

"I want to talk to you," you swallowed, feeling your throat tighten at those words and again offered him a smile.

There was a twinge of anger threatening to bubble up to the surface. He had ignored you during missions and left rather quickly when you came up to Hisoka and him. But you didn't have it in you to fully return what he did to you.

Your practiced smile always made him doubtful. It was so worked it looked natural, and as you walked up to him with it on your lips, he felt threatened.

"Congratulations again on your engagement, Llumi. I hope you're thrilled."

"Stop" His clipped tone shocked you, and it made your smile fall. "I don't want to be with her. She's annoying, her voice grates my ears, and she's utterly unprofessional. Her nen is useless, and she's too clingy."

Both of your eyebrows rose in surprise at his outburst. "Do you want to talk about that?" Your facade was up again, and for a second, you could see the pain in his eyes at your approach.

He was expecting you to tell him to leave her. He was expecting you to scream how much you loved him. Illumi swore that if you told him to leave the arrange marriage and run away with you, he would.

But instead, you offered to listen to him.

On the other side of the spectrum, you wanted to scream at him how much you loved him, your heart broke at his uncomfortableness, it hurt to hear him say how unhappy he was, and you were powerless to help. So you did the only thing you could as a friend, offer to listen to him.

"Would you like a cup of tea before you vent or perhaps something stronger?"

"Something stronger, please."

It was painful to look at how your thoughts and emotions were so close and yet so far away from touching him. You knew it could never be; this was not a fairy tale. It was the real world, and this world was ruthless. Illumi was too gripped by his parents and their influence. He wouldn't go against them just because you willed him so. You did what you were good at and what must, pretending that nothing was wrong. Pulling the mask down to cover your face before anyone could see what's behind. Creating another layer, building the walls up higher and caving in all the exits, so your emotions didn't accidentally escape, and you confessed how miserable and how utterly destroyed you felt. Instead, you’ll think of all that might’ve been and fool yourself in the dark of the night.

"Now, tell me how I can help, Llumi,"

Your hand laying right next to his, fingers brushing but never touching.

[lazarettta]

Misthios IV

Characters (Spartan!Reader x Mother Miranda)

Rating (T)

Word Count (3.4k)

Warnings (none I don't think)

You're up roaming around the castle and run into Miranda and Alcina.

It's been an exhausting but thrilling six months since you've gained the eye of this region's reigning ruler. Their Queen was ruthless as she was beautiful and you were quickly learning that she had a particular taste for blood that you haven't seen since your days in Sparta. Creative and cunning as she was, especially when it came to acts of revenge, but she took care of her kingdom and her people so long as they were loyal to her and her alone.

It was that last rule that forced you to discover just how cruel and destructive the mountains of Norway could be because you were tasked with chasing down a group of runaway slaves—as a punishment. This was different from your 'normal' punishments.

There was nothing special about these fucking slaves, they were just stupid enough to think it wise to steal from their Queen and then dare escape. It angered you so much that she'd send you on this quest when a small squadron of low ranked knights would've done fine.

It had taken you a week and two villages to finally catch up with them into the mountains. The conditions were harsher than what you were prepared for and you had to abandon half your gear and continue on foot. The cold was too much for your horse to handle, but he was old and you were sure to put him out of his misery before continuing on your hunt.

You'd caught them asleep in a cave a few miles away from a village that was tucked away into the mountain side. You purchased food and another horse, costing you all the silver you carried but it made your hunt easier and quicker. You hadn't been looking for the cave but a small fire through the thick of the trees caught your attention. Tying your new mare a distance away, you crept towards them, sticking to the tall grass and the shadows.

They'd all been sleeping so peacefully, even their so-called 'watcher'. It was almost too easy to just go and kill them quietly one by one...but Miranda had specific instructions for you to follow if you wanted her forgiveness. She wanted to hear them scream while she slept and that was exactly what you intended to deliver. You unsheathed one of your twin blades and with practiced ease, you swung right as the watcher’s eyes snapped open.

You were startled awake by a scream that you weren't sure if it was from your dream or if it was a real one. You sat up half way in the bed of the guest room you were put up in, leaning on your elbow ready to spring from beneath the sheets but nothing ever came. After another full five minutes of sitting and waiting with no result, you let yourself fall back onto the soft pillows and threw an arm over your eyes as they began to leak tears.

Nothing of sadness or the sort, you were simply exhausted—you were still in your clothing with your parka not too far away just in case you had to use the window for a quick escape. You even kept your boots on, even though it was too warm for you but you'd deal with it as you've been through more uncomfortable situations that couldn't even compare to simply being hot. Of course if you take off a few layers you'd be fine, but paranoia hasn't exactly been very kind to you in the past years...with good reason too. You hadn't died in over ten years and you planned to keep that streak going.

But even as those thoughts comforted you a bit, sleep evaded you—no longer finding you worthy of its pleasures and you just laid there sprawled out and tangled within the soft white linen sheets that were probably now dirty thanks to you. You didn't care. They probably had more somewhere.

Resigned to the fact that you'd probably never be able to go back to sleep, at least not any time soon, so pushed aside the heavy duvet and slipped out of the bed quietly. You moved towards the window but the only thing you could see was the few trees below and a land covered in blankets of undisturbed snow. A little further beyond the tree line, you saw smoke coming from the chimneys of the factory before you turned away from the view and left your room. You looked left and right of the hallway but there wasn't a sign of life to be found, not even that little maiden Alcina practically made your shadow. It was probably later than it actually felt and she was probably asleep...everyone probably was.

Checking your watch— ah, right. Miranda even took that. She took everything you could use as a weapon and it tickled you more than it annoyed you. Unsupervised, you can now take your time to feel your way around. You didn't get a chance to get a good look at everything before but now you did, and it was an opportunity to get to know the Lady of the castle. You'd long dismissed the thought that anything in this village was normal, it had more secrets and shadows than a horror book you guessed.

Walking through the halls of the second floor felt like a trip down memory lane—no particular region as most all castles were the same. Large and filled with fancy portraits and trinkets that could house and feed five families at a time. Carpet so plush and soft that you could feel it through your boots with each step. It absorbed your weight like a welcome home hug. Clearly Lady Alcina was a woman of finer things in life and that extended far outside of her wardrobe and preferred wines.

It just unnerved you how quiet everything was, a castle thing large and prosperous had to have staff minding it twenty four seven. Nonetheless, you finally came to the door that you recognized during your brief tour as the 'wine room'. Like everything else you'd come across, the door was finely made from dark red oak with gold trimmings—just like Alcina's stagecoach.

Without a second thought about it, you opened the door—simply with the intent of getting a better look at the wine collection the maiden mentioned during your tour. But that thought was cut short because the room wasn't as empty as the silence in the hallway led you to believe as you'd walked into a full conversation by two people; one you were hoping to avoid for a few days and the other you thought was asleep...or well away from your location. You were wrong on both accounts.

“Heisenberg is a blundering fool leading a pack of fleabags, Miranda. He is going to fail again!”

“And we don't have time to stress other options, especially that one! We're out of time already and—”

“Exactly we're out of time so just ask her—” you pushed the door open a little more and it creaked quietly.

They both turned to you and you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of you or what you just overheard. Miranda and Alcina were sitting at the small table, well Miranda was, Alcina was sitting in one of her custom chairs a little further away and both women had two glasses filled with dark red wine. Alcina wasn't in her white dress anymore, instead she'd changed into a pair of dark slacks and deep red turtle neck and she was barefoot. A far cry from the regal dress she wore earlier but she still carried herself in the same manner.

You did your best not to think about how good Miranda looked without that damn mask on her face...even in those robes she still wore, Miranda was beautiful. Beautiful as the day you first met. You forced yourself to keep your attention on Alcina and not Miranda, who was now staring a hole into the side of your face like she was trying to will you into looking at her.

“Oh. Shit, I didn't know this room was occupied.”

Alcina glanced at Miranda briefly from behind her wine glass, her expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on you again, “Of course not, dear. Is everything alright?”

You cleared your throat, fighting the urge to look at Miranda because you could feel her trying to will your eyes in her direction, “No, actually I—”

You were interrupted by an ear piercing scream and high pitched laughter right behind her, on the verge of being hysterical. Lady Dimitrescu sighed heavily behind you and finished her wine before setting her glass down and rising to her full height.

“Please excuse me, it seems that my daughters are teasing the poor maids again.”

You started to comment that it didn't sound like it was teasing but you kept your mouth shut, knowing better than to stick your nose in the wrong place too soon—it never really turned out very well for you the first time. It would never cease to amaze you how fast and quiet Alcina moved despite her size, but it still baffled you that she hasn't ever gotten the doors to her own castle fixed to fit for her . But those thoughts were pushed to the far corners of your mind when the door clicked shut—leaving you alone in the room with Miranda, forcing you to acknowledge her now. You shoved your hands in your pockets and sighed, you weren't expecting to see her again so soon.

You still hadn't had time to get your shit together after the last time you two spoke, or more like argued back and forth. Easily falling into a pattern as if you hadn't been centuries apart. You still weren't sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

“Take a seat, (Y/n). Would you like a glass of wine?” Miranda broke the silence but she didn't break eye contact with you once she caught you eye, holding you as if she physically had her hands on your face. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, (Y/n).”

“Oh, so now we're suddenly interested in what I want to do?”

“Yes, of course. Wine?”

You scoffed, rolling her eyes at her typical answer and you wanted to say no, you opened your mouth to do so but instead you were getting closer to the table she was sitting at. She poured you a glass of wine, and handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow, she couldn't have set it down for you? She insisted on handing it to you and the way Miranda was holding the glass left you no choice to place your hands over hers to take it from her. Those gold claw rings were ice cold against your skin and the edge of one nicked your skin but not deep enough to draw blood.

You had no idea what you wanted to say to Miranda, you weren't ready to talk about what you two needed to talk about but you weren't sure if you could sit here and do small talk with her over wine. It was so easy for you to get up and leave, maybe go back to your guest room and lock the door. So what was stopping you? Why was it difficult?

Miranda, who had been watching you intently, interrupted your rapid thoughts, “You always were a loud thinker, (Y/n).”

“Nothing interesting, trust me.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Miranda chuckled, shifting in her chair slightly to angle herself towards you a little more. You sort of hated yourself for thinking how well she was pulling off the priestess look, “I could always tell what you were thinking even from a mile away. You were always quite the unique distraction.”

“You never complained before.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave or two lower, “though I doubt I ever will.”

You looked up, she didn't look away and you didn't know what to think. And for once, even if it was just for a moment, you saw a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Miranda, what do you want? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Because we need to talk, (Y/n), to...clear the air as they say, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that part earlier,” you licked your suddenly dry lips, your nerves starting to buzz a little, “But that's not a good enough reason anymore.”

Miranda scoffed, actually rolling her eyes at you, “Why not? Closure heals the past. Doesn't it?”

“But what do you expect after that?”

“What do you?” she threw the ball back in your court as she refilled her own wine glass from a different bottle than what she used for your own, the wine she was using was a little darker and thicker. It didn't surprise you that the question was thrown back at you, she always did that when she was trying to keep the upper hand or get it.

But it didn't mean that the question wasn't a good one because what did you want after this? Would it even matter after all of this time? Have you ever forgiven her, really and truly moved on? Did she even care back then, did she care for you...or what you could do for her?

Miranda was watching you the entire time become lost in your thoughts, a trait you still carried with you. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her clear eyes taking you in while you were distracted enough to not notice her doing it so blatantly. You still looked the same as the last time she saw you, minus the murderous rage that had twisted your beautiful features that evening.

The modern world has touched many parts of you but your eyes still hold so much more than they did centuries ago. Being a warrior was now outdated and something of an historical myth but you still carried yourself as one, and Miranda could see new scars on your brown skin on the exposed skin she saw earlier on your neck and arms.

She'd been watching you for days before finally making herself known to you after going back and forth with herself during those agonizing days. Being far more irritable than she normally was and Miranda was positive that Lords Heisenberg and Moreau were quite sore with her at the moment. Well, Karl certainly would be. Seeing you made her angry...at first. Angry for the grief you left her with, the shatters you left her to pick up on her own.

Years of pent up thoughts and plans of revenge she'd enact when she got her hands on you came down to a single moment when she finally did get her hands on you and she couldn't do it. Miranda eyed your neck, where you should've still been bruised. She had you right where she needed you with one hand wrapped around your neck because you were so unsuspecting. It would've been so easy but she couldn't...so she knocked you out and threw you in a cell where she could keep a better eye on you. And perhaps no longer be so distracted from her work.

“Look who's thinking loud now.” you mumbled around the edge of your wine glass, finally taking a sip of the damn thing. Miranda wouldn't hesitate to bet that you assumed it was somehow poisoned even though you watched her open the bottle. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

Miranda hummed softly, “Do you really wish to know?”

You chuckled, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the way your jaw clenched and unclenched when the wine hit your taste buds again, “With the way you were staring at my neck...it's not that hard to guess, Miranda.”

“You're only half right, my dear.” At your raised eyebrows, Miranda's smirk only widened, “My hands were wrapped around that strong neck again, but breaking it is far from my mind now .”

Your snort turned into a chuckle that was clearly infectious as Miranda joined you. Nothing was remotely that funny, if it was funny at all, but you were tired and the situation brought forth too many emotions for you, either of you to really process, and all you could was just...laugh.

Miranda was the first to sober up a bit though the smile never completely left her features. “Ah, and well... you know, it wouldn't do to try and kill the only other person on this wretched rock who knows me. Will it?”

You're very well the only person in this wretched world that will ever know the real me and still love me for it. Quite a miserable thought, isn't it?

You jumped when the door opened behind you and Alcina stepped into the room—you'd almost forgot where you were for a moment. Almost. Alcina took one look at the two of you, curious to find you actually still in the room much less sitting at the table sharing a glass of wine with Miranda. Especially with what she overheard earlier and how much tension you two create together.

Alcina knew that she interrupted something, probably something she had no business to but that did not stop her from sitting back down in her chair in her goddamn castle. And whatever drama that was happening within her territory was now her drama and she was going to get a front row seat. Alcina lit up another one of her cigarillos and pulled heavy before she released it in your direction.

“Running a business is quite the headache when no one else understands your vision, I swear. Don't have kids, (Y/n). They're messy and nothing but trouble.”

“Noted.” you forced a chuckle, not taking her bait but now you were trying to finish your wine as quickly as possible without seeming like you were trying to run.

“Well, how about it then, (Y/n)? Tell us a story, you couldn't have been a mercenary your entire life. Or have you?” You glanced at Miranda and saw that she was glaring at Alcina but the taller woman wasn't paying her any mind. And really, the only reason Miranda hasn't verbally intervened is because she was interested in your answer as well. Even if Alcina was asking just to poke at the situation for her own amusement.

“I've put away my shield and sword a long time ago,” you didn't bother to mention that you did keep them both in pristine condition just in case, “I've been enjoying the little things life has to offer.” lame. And a lie.

“Oh come now,” Alcina scoffed, not accepting your answer—it wasn't a very good one anyway, “That's—”

“Actually,” When it was clear that Miranda wasn't going to save you from this woman's nosiness (why would she?) You quickly drank the rest of the wine, it was really too sour for you, and rose from the chair. “I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Thanks for the wine and...yeah.” Could you be any more awkward?

Alcina was howling by the time the door slammed shut behind you and she took another pull from her cigarette stick, still paying no heed to Miranda's heated glare. “Oh, you're going to have to tie that one down if you want her to talk to you.”

“I will have your head if you stick your nose in my business again, Dimitrescu.”

“Then don't store your business in my castle.” Alcina shot back, meeting Miranda's glare head on but immediately conceded when she felt Miranda's growling through the vibrations of her glass in her hand that was still resting on the table. “Alright, alright...but you're always welcome to use my dungeons. Use chains though those biceps of hers could probably break through the ropes.”

“Alcina, that is enough!”

The Lady of the castle just laughed lightly until it tapered off into a pleasant hum around her famous Sanguis Virginis wine while watching Miranda readjust her face mask. Her eyes brighter than they have been the last few hours., Alcina pushed for one more question—deciding to risk Miranda's wrath, “How'd you ever let such a handsome creature slip between your fingers?”

Miranda sighed heavily, no pause in her strut to the door, “Egos and misunderstandings.” she was gone before the lock clicked into place.

I'm so sorry for being hella lazy, lol, I'll add the other chapters of this story today 😭😭😭😭