#the threat of love I sent that on anon once but she’ll never see this blog I think

[underyourbedtoday]

Simon Riley’s love is a terrible devotion. Hell maybe even a curse for just how much he loves. He loves with his whole self no matter the pain, you’re burrowed into his chest whether you want to be there or not and he will sew himself up so you can never leave him

Simon Riley knows pain like no other, knows what’s it’s like to take it and give it, and he etched himself into the very being of your life, inescapable, ever present, unending

This man is the threat of love. He will take care of you even when you don’t need it, you don’t want it, and he does so with all that he is, looming over you like the inevitable guillotine. He will love you but he will not do it delicately—if he could swallow you whole, lock you away, take all that you are into him than he would if it meant that you would be forever safe, forever his

His to love, his to adore, his to never leave

Simon riley loves with every bit of his being, even the parts that are broken and fractured and dusty and still buried and he does so like a stray dog that will follow you to the ends of the earth

[zablife]

Obey

Tatiana Petrovna x Scarlett Shelby (OC)

Summary: Tommy has not yet recovered from his head injury and Scarlett is sent to Hampton Court Palace in his place. Tatiana has some fun with her new guest.

Author's Note: This was requested by a lovely anon who wanted to read a Tatiana x Shelby sis fic. I hope you enjoy it! Scarlett Shelby is my OC-- Tommy's younger sister (John's twin)--from my series Little Harlot.

Warnings: 🔞, language, hint of smut

“I thought they were sending Thomas,” Tatiana said, alarm evident in her large brown eyes.

“They say he’s still too weak to travel. It’s the sister, Scarlett, tonight,” her uncle replied, tugging at his white gloves. 

Izabella raised Tatiana’s chin with a stern reminder. “It doesn’t matter, Tatiana. The objective is the same.” Studying her niece to be sure she would comply, she asked sharply, “Can you do it?”

Tatiana’s eyes flicked up toward her aunt, shedding any sense of doubt as she snapped indignantly, “Of course, I can.”

Tossing her away, Izabella straightened, clasping both hands to her waist as she nodded. “Good, she’ll arrive within the hour.”

————————————

“Miss Shelby, welcome,” Tatiana said with a neutral, almost bored expression, her eyes roaming Scarlett’s body in silent judgement. “Excuse the reception," she said gesturing toward her guards with a wave of her hand. "Whenever we open the treasury, the Cossacks are on guard,” she apologized with a lack of sincerity.

“They don’t bother me,” Scarlett said, unflinchingly. After all she'd seen in France and at Tommy's side, nothing phased her anymore.

Tatiana could tell the woman wasn't frightened in the least and she gave a small, satisfied smirk before turning lazily toward the house, hips swaying with each step she took toward the entry way. She didn't ask Scarlett to follow her, only indicated with a nod of her head as she adjusted her shawl.

Once inside Tatiana's smile seemed to grow as she took her time circling her prey. “Before we go through, I must know if you have any allegiance to underground organizations.”

“Like what?” Scarlett asked, furrowing her brow.

“Sworn enemies of the royal household,” she spat as though Scarlett were stupid.

“It’s customary in Russian royal households to check for such tattoos before engaging in business of any kind. My family must be sure you’re not an assassin or an infiltrator,” she explained as she paced before Scarlett, eyes boring a hole into her until Scarlett felt naked from her gaze alone.

“What? You’ve asked me here. Of course, I’m not!” Scarlett said defensively, jutting her chin out to show she wouldn’t be intimidated.

“Regardless, I must check your skin,” Tatiana persisted, crossing her arms over her chest to show she wouldn't budge on the issue.

“Check my skin? What does that mean?” Scarlett was confused by the phrase wondering if it meant what she thought. Perhaps Tatiana’s English wasn’t so good.

“I must check your body for markings as I said," she explained in an exasperated tone, rolling her eyes at the inconvenience of having to explain herself a second time. When Scarlett made no move, Tatiana became forceful, commanding, "Take your clothes off!"

“Fuck off,” Scarlett replied reflexively with a toss of her head.

Tatiana raised her eyebrows at the insult. She wasn't accustomed to people speaking to her that way. Her eyes narrowed and she lowered her voice an octave as she issued a threat contained in a single word, “Obey.” 

“I ain’t obeying no one. Never have,” Scarlett said, gathering her coat tightly around her shoulders.

“And yet you do for men. How much?” Tatiana asked, her voice returning to a flat, even register as though she were asking the price of fruit. 

“You think I’m some kind of whore?” Scarlett scoffed.

“Tommy said you have a certain reputation,” Tatiana countered, matter-of-factly, waiting to see how her opponent would accept the wounding sting of the barb.

Scarlett only gritted her teeth as she could see this was nothing more than a cruel game. Tommy never missed an opportunity to make her feel small and insignificant. It was true she had run wild since returning from France, but that was no one’s business but her own. No longer wishing to discuss it, she decided to give in. The roving eyes of a spoiled duchess preferable to this line of conversation.

Tossing her coat aside with force, she slowly began to slip a strap of her evening gown from her shoulder and then the other, never breaking eye contact with Tatiana. The golden sunlight of the afternoon poured in through the windows, illuminating Scarlett's ivory skin and she hesitated to shimmy the fabric past her waist as Tatiana began circling her again. However, by the time the dress had pooled at her feet and the cool breeze hit her shoulders, she forgot any sense of modesty and quickly untied her bra, tossing it to the floor with a flourish and pulling her shoulders back proudly.

Tatiana’s eyes brightened at the sight of her full breasts springing forth and a hint of mischief played in her eyes as she stepped closer, running a hand across Scarlett’s collarbone. “You have skin like your brothers’, you know? The freckles. I wonder, do you fuck like him too?” she whispered against Scarlett’s ear with an impish giggle.

A tingle ran down Scarlett’s spine at the remark though she tried to suppress it. “God, he was right. You're all mad,” she muttered in Romany.

Tatiana cocked her head as she listened to the quiet lilt of a language she didn’t understand. “What was that?” she asked softly, cradling Scarlett’s neck in her hand, digging her nails in slightly at the base of her skull, forcing Scarlett to tilt her head back toward the ceiling.

“I’m nothing like him,” Scarlett said defiantly, wetting her lips as she suddenly felt her throat go dry. Tatiana stood pressed to her side so the beads of her dress scratched roughly against her bare skin. If she’d come any closer, Tatiana might have felt Scarlett’s heart begin to race or perhaps she'd already taken note of the way the vein in her neck thrummed wildly.

Tatiana allowed another laugh to bubble up from her chest as she snaked her opposite hand across the soft, delicate skin of Scarlett’s stomach to the generous curve of her hip and around to her inner thigh. “No?” she asked, rubbing circles into her skin with her fingertips.

Scarlett swallowed harshly before answering, “I won’t let you control me the way you control him.” Her attempt at maintaining the upper hand in the situation was rapidly slipping away as she bit her lip against the sensation of Tatiana’s hand hovering over her clothed core. Her resolve was finally abandoned at the feeling of the other woman's warm palm resting over the dampening spot of her silk underwear. Her need growing as she felt a gentle pressure placed to the area she needed it most.

Tatiana looked up through her lashes at Scarlett’s slack jawed expression as her fingers slipped beneath the satin band of her underwear. She smirked to herself as Scarlett huffed out a little breath and closed her eyes.

“See, you want to be good for me, don't you?" Tatiana asked in a voice dripping with honey. Scarlett heard a low moan, only recognizing it as her own voice when Tatiana began speaking again inches from Scarlett's lips. "Such a sweet sound. You're an angel. Not a devil, I can tell," she proclaimed.

Clutching Tatiana's wrist in a painful grasp Scarlett stuttered, "You-you don't know anything about m-me," feeling a rush of blood in her ears.

"I know that you're right. You're not like your brother. In fact, it is you I want to do business with," Tatiana said, placing a soft kiss to Scarlett's lips. Scarlett found herself leaning toward the kiss, but it ended as suddenly as it began with Tatiana pulling away from Scarlett's flushed body as though nothing had happened.

Scarlett opened her eyes, chest rising and falling with obvious heaving breath. Who was this woman and what did she really want? Did she know of the turmoil between Scarlett and Tommy or was she playing a game? Scarlett knew better than to trust her, but the idea of finding an ally was against her powerful brother was all too tempting.

“You did well,” Tatiana said with a broad smile, offering Scarlett her gown back with outstretched hand. “It is traditional to seal the successful examination with vodka and music. Join me for a drink?” she asked playfully and Scarlett didn't protest.

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

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[rayofsunas]

chasm | albedo

A/n: hi everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe <33 as you can see, I’m back on my albedo bs, so I decided to write this out finally 🥺🥺 and omg let me just say, I love this so much! . thank you to my very special anon “🌱” you know who you are, for requesting this! ❤️ I’ve decided the reader is female, but if anyone would like a male or gender neutral version, let me know! I also kinda did my own take on this since it’s not explained what Albedo’s “darker side” is. enjoy everyone!! ❤️

Summary: albedo has been gone for an awfully long time, somewhere in Dragonspine. you’re worried about him, naturally, so you go look for him. he’s refusing help for some odd reason, and you find that he’s having trouble. you let him know you’d never even think of leaving his side, no matter what.

Parings: Albedo/Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

The ashy blonde hadn’t been down from Dragonspine in weeks, nearly a full four months. And you couldn’t lie, you were growing worried. 

It wasn’t unusual, pretty typical behavior for the genius alchemist actually. But, by now he would’ve sent a letter of some sort, clueing somebody in on his whereabouts, if he needed more supplies, etc. He hadn’t done that yet. And you were afraid he probably wouldn’t. 

Sucrose was the last to speak to him, which happened to be two months ago when he sent her down the mountains, back to Mondstadt. She had told you that he was fine when she left, busy dissecting some strange specimen he’d found. Typical Albedo entranced and focused on everything the mysteries the world had to offer. 

You didn’t mean nor want to rain on his parade, but you would have to make the journey to Dragonspine and check on him. You couldn’t just sit here, as his friend and lover. 

It was a surprise after the third month that Jean hadn’t sent a team to check on him, but then it all made sense when she explained her reasoning. The only thing stopping her from sending a team up to check on him was the fact that all of the able soldiers were either injured or off on missions; Kaeya was off on some personal business away from Mondstadt, Varka and his team were still on their long strenuous mission, the Honorary Knight was still in Liyue, and Hertha wasn’t authorized to travel outside of Mondstadt.

It was a relief you were the captain of the exploration team, tasked with exploring Teyvat, bringing back information for maps to be drawn, possible paths to be made, and finding new lands. You, on the other hand, were authorized. It was just a matter of getting permission from the Acting Grand Master. 

“Jean, may I please have the authorization to take a small team with me to Dragonspine?” You asked the blonde who seemed to be busy filling out paperwork. Most likely configuring new formations and teams, since the majority of the soldiers were unable to travel right now. 

“All able soldiers are unavailable,” She reminded you, eye’s briefly lifting from the wordy documents, before glancing back down to write something. “If you wait a few days, I can send a team up with you to find Albedo.”

A few days. You had a feeling she would tell you that. That wouldn’t work...

You rocked back and forth on your heels, “Excuse my impatience, but I’d prefer to leave now.”

She stared at you, eyes empty for a while, thinking, though a brief smile shaped her lips. “Do you believe you can make the trip by yourself?” 

Sure, the cold was something you weren’t accustomed to, but you’d do anything for Albedo. Even travel aimlessly through a snowstorm. You nodded eagerly. 

“If you’re not back within three days' time, I will send a few soldiers after you.” She explained. 

“Thank you.” She bowed her head. 

“Good luck, Knight.”

- 

Thankfully, you remembered the general location of Albedo’s hideout in Dragonspine. You could thank your excellent memory - having trained your brain for years mesmerizing back roads and maps - visiting more than once also made it much easier as well.

You reached Dragonspine within a few hours and made the trek up to Albedo’s hideout in less than two hours. The sky was greying the higher you got and the snow only seemed to fall quicker and land on your exposed cheeks like sharp pellets. A snowstorm was approaching, you noted, you better hurry.

Venturing deeper into the medium-sized jut out in the mountain, you could see a single small flame, lighting up the back end, but other than that, the cave was encompassed in darkness. 

“Albedo?” You called out to your lover, noticing an onslaught of shrewd books, some open, some with pages ripped and torn, only a few had the luck of not being tarnished. “Are you here?” You asked again, the only response was the echo the cave shot back. 

Though, in a heap on the floor by the fire, you found exactly what you were looking for. As you approached, the flames became more visible and now you could see more of Albedo. He was oddly on his side, leaning against the back of the rocky cave wall, legs loosely curled into his chest. More of those books he adored so much were shrewd around him, along with his own notebooks, filled with scribbled words.

“Albedo!” He didn’t appear to be moving, only when you practically flung yourself at him was when you saw shallow breaths, chest moving faintly. Furthering your inspection, you gripped his arms and leaned down to his chest, putting your ear right to where his heart is.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You sighed, forehead lowering onto his chest out of relief. He was alive, thank goodness. 

You still couldn’t see his face though. Ashy blonde hair shielding it, soft bangs hiding his eyes. The only thing your eyes saw was the shape of his lips and the bridge of his nose.

“What’re you doing here like this?” You asked, hoping he would just look at you. His uncharacteristically odd positioning and the fact that he hadn’t even uttered a word yet were enough to leave you concerned.

Maybe his time in the icy mountains, in solitude, was not beneficial to him like originally thought...

“Can you speak?” You asked, confused as to what was going on. Maybe he was too cold to speak. You noted from gripping his arms earlier, that they were ice cold, goosebumps on usually unmarred, soft skin. The small fire was doing nothing to keep him warm and you weren’t sure if he had any warming bottles or Goulash left... Presumably not, hence the reason he was as cold as ice. The real question was, why was he still here, suffering like this, in the cold? Despite popular belief, he knew when to leave dangerous environments when they were a threat to him; all knowledge, research, and experiments aside. No, this was something different... Something was terribly wrong. 

“I have a few warming bottles,” You explained, reaching into your cloak pocket, slender fingers enclosing around the small bottom, taking it out of your pocket. “I know these things aren’t entirely useful, but it'll help warm you up for a little while.”

“No, don’t waste them on me, please,” He whispered. Hissing in pain, reaching for his head. “You need them to get back down the mountain.” The alchemist said lastly. 

“Waste them?” You whispered to yourself, ignoring your questions when you heard him hiss. “You’re in pain,” You stated, eyes narrowing to search for any sign of blood or wound. None from what you could see. “I’m not going down the mountain without you.”

Were his wounds internal? His head seemed to be hurting. You weren't a doctor, but maybe it was from the cold, that was plausible. A headache of sorts, a symptom of hypothermia, though you hoped that weren’t the case... 

He needed to be warmer, as soon as possible. “Would you like my cloak? Here.” You were already shrugging your cloak off and draping it over his shoulders before you even got a reply. 

“Please,” He started, sluggishly easing the article of clothing off of him. “Put that back on, you’ll freeze to death, love.” 

Archons, why did he have to be selfless? He was already in a much, much, worse state than you, and he was still worried about your wellbeing. You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “You’re already beating me to it and I won’t allow that.” You said, refusing the cloak. More heat, you needed more heat.

You gripped his shoulders, letting him know you were still here. “I’m going to start some more fires, stay put, okay?” With that, you stood and took out some matches. A few small piles of dead leaves and twigs were already around the cave, they’d long ago burnout, but you would take it. You were thankful you didn’t have to leave the cave, leave Albedo. 

As you lit each of the dead piles of nature, Albedo muttered, “You need to leave me here,” He then paused, you heard shifting and rustling. With a quick worried glance back, you saw him trying to stand, your cloak falling to the ground. “Get the-” Another pause. It seemed another headache washed over him. “Honorary Knight...” Forgetting the last pile, you rushed towards him, grabbing his lower arms gently, hoping to steady him. 

“Lumine,” You said, “She’s in Liyue, I’m afraid she’ll be there for a while.” You usually would’ve sent a sassy retort back his way, playfully of course. But the seriousness of this situation stopped you. Good choice, Y/n.

He repeated, “Leave me here.” Your head shook. You weren’t leaving without him, you just wouldn’t. You had this awful gut feeling that if you left, he wouldn’t be here when you returned. 

“No, I’m here to bring you home.” You explained. 

His eyes still weren’t visible. “Home? No, not to Mondstadt. You can’t take me there.” 

“I wouldn’t take you anywhere else, other than there,” This wasn’t making sense... Why won’t he look at you? What is he hiding? Does he have an injury on his face? Taking him in your arms, you allowed yourself to hug him, hoping he’d open up and share his concerns. “Please, Albedo, let me see your face.”

His head shook profusely, trying to push you away, though failing. “I’m terribly afraid I can’t show you. It’s already happening- In less than an hour, you’re going to be in danger... You’re already in danger now.”

“Please don’t make me ask you to leave again.” His voice sounded weak, distraught, saddened. 

“You don’t have to, just tell me what I can do.”

A long pause. He was fighting with himself, it was obvious to you now. He sounded as if he was begging you to stay, his words were saying otherwise. But why?

“Leave...” He pleaded. 

“No,” You refused stubbornly. “I’ll do anything for you, leaving is not one of them.”

He hissed again, this time successfully managing to push you away, shuffling further back into the cave.

“You’re not making any sense, Albedo,” You said softly, following after him. “You’ve kept too many secrets. Not anymore, you can tell me.” Your lover fell to the ground again, this time landing on his back. You gasped, rushing over to him. 

As you stood over him, you could see his bangs were pushed off his sweaty forehead, his left arm splaying across his eyes; shielding them from you once again. But underneath it, you could see a faint glow. Red...

His teal, cerulean eyes were no longer present. Now a deep shade of red, alike to that of scarlet quartz, took over. Was this the fault of an experiment gone wrong? Had he been poisoned? A curse even?

Crouching down beside the alchemist, you wondered. “What’s hurting you...” A slender and delicate hand reached out to remove his arm. He fought back with all his strength to keep you from removing his arm, but eventually, you managed to succeed.

Now with his hand at his side, you were left staring at what he’d tried so hard to conceal. You were shocked to be staring at what you were, though not entirely scared. Any ounce of fear was towards the fact that whatever this was, was visibly and prominently hurting him, evident by the odd ways he hissed in pain and coddled his head. You weren’t afraid he’d harm you as he assumed. He never resorted to violence and he wouldn’t at a time like this; you trusted him entirely.

Albedo stayed quiet for some time and if it weren’t for the deep, unsteady breaths, you would have assumed he’d passed out from the fall. It sounded like complete and utter pain and suffering, but he was alive.

It was obvious all of the pain was a result of the glowing coming from his now, mysterious pair of eyes, you realized that now.

“I can see the glow...” You said, he momentarily stopped breathing deeply. Ashamed, disgusted, afraid. “I’m not afraid, I’m more worried about your wellbeing.”

The blonde smiled weakly, eyes glistening with tears. Relief? Sadness? Anger? You weren’t sure, probably all three and much more than he could ever say. “Wrongfully, selfless in this moment.”

“I could say the same about you, love.” You chuckled, remembering minutes ago how badly he’d been trying to save and protect you. 

Albedo weakly sat up, carefully scooting to lean his back against the stone wall, staring up at the cavern's ceiling. You followed him, reaching over to grab his hand, head laying on his shoulder. You could feel his hand trembling. Whether it be from fear, the cold, or the fact that something was overcoming him, you weren’t sure...

“I’m going to stay here with you, through whatever this is,” You admitted. “You’re not going through this without me.”

He nodded, eyes lulling shut. 

Stay awake for me please, I know it hurts but please.

“I love you.” He whispered, head falling on yours, breaths finally shallowing to a comfortable pace. He was steadying, at least for now.

“I love you, too.”

Of course, you meant what you said. You’d always mean it and you would never retract that statement. But, if you managed to survive this and not die from hypothermia, Albedo’s screams of pain and pleads for you to end him, would haunt you for the rest of your existence.

2.22.21, rayofsunas

[aboveallarescuer]

Btw, I wonder if you ever thought about the Jaime/Cersei and Dany/Daario relationships paralleling eachother? I never see people talking about it but some of their quotes and scenes seem intentionally similar to me. + For example, how Daario and Jaime's (yes, Jaime Lannister is a toxic romantic partner, the fandom can stay mad) reaction to their respective marriage proposals are heavily linked with posession (more so than love).

First of all, Anon, I'm assuming you're the same person who sent me two asks, this one and another about Tyrion. Re: the latter ask, I basically agree with your comments and have nothing substantial to add, so I'm going to focus on answering this one.

So, yes, I had thought about similarities between Dany/Daario and Cersei/Jaime before, but I'm glad you sent me this ask because you made me think of more parallels and antiparallels. They are certainly worth discussing because they highlight different aspects of Dany's and Cersei's characters and make it clear, once again, that they are meant to be foils.

(I'm not going to add book quotes here because I'm tired, sorry... But you can ask for evidence in another ask if you find anything I say questionable)

Daario and Jaime are both hot-headed, arrogant warriors presented as alternatives to the husbands of the two queens (Hizdahr, Robert).

Both Dany and Cersei love these men instead of their husbands.

Both Daario and Jaime react angrily when they find out that Dany and Cersei are going to marry.

Both Daario and Jaime ask the queens to leave their husbands and to be with them instead, but they both deny their requests.

Both Daario and Jaime offer to kill their queens' husbands for them. Both Dany and Cersei imagine the two men following through with their threats at some point.

Dany ends her affair with Daario after she takes Hizdahr as her consort. Cersei doesn't end her affair with Jaime after marrying Robert (and she did nothing wrong in this particular situation).

Neither Dany nor Cersei hides their affairs well (though it's worth noting that Cersei is being more reckless in doing so because she was queen consort and her power derived from Robert, while Dany was queen regnant and, therefore, had power in her own right. Indeed, Dany taking Daario as her lover is compared to Lewyn Martell, a man, taking a paramour in Dorne. That certainly isn't how the Faith views Cersei's affair with Jaime. Also, as I said above, Dany's affair lasted while she was unmarried, while Cersei's happened while she was married).

Dany thinks she'll never have a child with Hizdahr because she believes she's infertile. Cersei thought she'd never have a child with Robert back when he was alive because she always took measures to prevent that from ever happening (and she definitely did nothing wrong here).

Dany idealizes her relationship with Daario way more than Cersei idealizes hers with Jaime. For instance, Dany says to herself that she would give up her crown for Daario if he ever asked her to do so, but she doubts he ever would because she assumes he loves her solely because of her power. Cersei never considers giving up her crown for Jaime (to be fair, I don't think Dany would've done that for Daario either). In this particular case, I actually think that Rhaegar is Cersei's Daario, because it's with Rhaegar that Cersei dreamed and still dreams of marrying and having his children and living a blissful life together (though, even in that fantasy, Cersei would still want to be queen, while Dany thinks she'd be content living a normal life alongside the man she loves without any power or luxury in the house with the red door). Daario and Rhaegar (rather than Jaime) are the men who bring out Dany's and Cersei's romantic sides (which makes sense because Cersei idealized Rhaegar back when she was a young girl like Dany). Rhaegar is the one that got away for Cersei, and I imagine Dany will have similar feelings about Daario in the future.

At some point during their reigns, both Dany and Cersei send Daario and Jaime away, but for opposite reasons: Dany does so because Daario advised her to kill her subjects and she's appaled by the suggestion; Cersei does so because Jaime advised her to cooperate with her subjects and she assumes that that means he is disrespecting her authority (which he does sometimes, but not always).

It's harder for Dany to be apart from Daario than it is for Cersei to be apart from Jaime. Dany immediately regrets her decision to send him away and even goes as far as to think that, because she had an indirect role in Hazzea's death for allowing Drogon to roam freely, she is a monster just like Daario (seriously, how can anyone think that book!Dany is arrogant???). Meanwhile, Cersei only comes to regret her decision to send Jaime away after she needs his help, specifically after the Faith arrests her and she has no reliable option to choose to fight for her life in a trial by combat.

Both Dany and Cersei spend most of their storylines away from these men. (I could be wrong, but I don't think GRRM had Daario out of the picture because he was supposedly bored with him like I've seen some BNFs or 'neutrals' argue... I do think that was a choice specifically made to strengthen the parallels between Dany and Cersei).

Both Daario and Jaime feel jealous of Dany's and Cersei's relationships with other men throughout AFFC/ADWD.

Daario returns with the Stormcrows when Dany recalls him even though it would have been beneficial to betray her and turn to Yunkai's side, especially since he already knew that the Second Sons had done that. Jaime doesn't return when Cersei asks him to go back... You could even say that he switches sides, in a way, by deciding to prioritize Brienne's request instead. This is part of a larger pattern: while most of Dany's people (including Daario) remain loyal to her by the end, almost all of Cersei's allies abandon her. While it's said that Dany managed to keep everyone (former slaves and former masters) together, Cersei destroyed the Lannister-Tyrell alliance due to her poor decisions.

ADWD Daenerys X ends with Dany thinking about how Daario wouldn't mind seeing her in such a messy state like how she is by the end of the chapter. AFFC Cersei X ends with Cersei hoping against hope that Jaime will return and win her trial by combat. Both expect to be reunited with and to be saved by their lovers at the end of these chapters.

Dany doesn't trust Daario, but she doesn't close herself off from him either, which is why she has the support of the Stormcrows. Cersei says she lost her trust in Jaime, but then, by the end, she is in such a dire situation that she desperately decides to put all her hope in him and trust him way too much (to a degree that even Qyburn finds concerning since he lost his hand). This is part of a larger pattern: while Dany is wary of some people, she knows that she should still take risks and make alliances. This attitude doesn't make her omniscient and she is not immune to making mistakes or to people (like Brown Ben) betraying her, sure. That being said, Dany still remains open-minded, cooperates with influential allies and makes a peace agreement that could have worked if the deal wasn't inherently false for prioritizing the privileges of the masters over the lives of the slaves and if her primary goal wasn't to protect the disenfranchised first and foremost. Meanwhile, Cersei thinks she should distrust everyone, which leads her to alienate potential allies that could have been useful and to be surrounded by people who claim to agree with her on everything, but who are neither experienced nor reliable. Then she creates plans that rely way too much on these very untrustworthy people, which is why they backfire: from the construction of the dromonds (which she relied on Aurane Waters, who turned his back on her) to the attempt on Bronn's life (which she relied on Balman Byrch, who turned his back on her) to the scheme to have Margaery and her cousins arrested (which she relied on Osney Kettleblack, who turned his back on her) to the decision to rearm the Faith Militant (which she relied on the High Sparrow, who turned his back on her) to her decision to trust that Jaime (who also turned his back on her) will return to fight for her life ... I'm sure there are more examples, but that's enough to illustrate my point. Cersei's thinking is too extreme, while Dany has a healthy distrust of others. As a result, Cersei makes hasty decisions and burns bridges unnecessarily, while Dany is able to make more carefully weighed decisions, as well as to create and maintain important alliances.

Finally, I think Dany and Daario's relationship is more positive than Cersei and Jaime's. Not only there's no verbal abuse or disrespect of sexual consent like how it happens with Cersei/Jaime, but Daario didn't switch sides to Yunkai, gave her good counsel (such as when he tells her to hold court and reminds her that her children need her) and genuinely cares about Dany, which we see from when he tells her not to get married time and again to when we contrast him with Osney. He is possessive and brags about sleeping with her on some occasions, yes, but I think it was @evilwomen who pointed out in one of our conversations that Dany doesn't feel bothered by any of that, which goes to show how much she loves him, since she's willing to forgive actions that would be considered insults for his sake.

So, once again, thanks for this ask, Anon, it encouraged me to think about connections that I hadn't considered before.

And you know, I said this before and will say it again... This is why I think Dany is the YMBQ... Not just because she clearly fits all the requirements, but because she and Cersei were way too carefully written to parallel and contrast each other (so much so that the author mentioned that in multiple interviews). You said you "never see people talking about" the parallels between Cersei/Jaime and Dany/Daario, but look at how much I managed to find off the top of my head (and I'm not even sure this is comprehensive, tbqh)??? Now imagine that happening to all of their casts of supporting characters and to all the political events and to pretty much every single aspect of their characterizations and storylines. Their parallels and antiparallels are really overwhelming, and it's why I decided to make gifs showing why they're foils.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Madness

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Blaeja

Summary: “I was wondering if I could request an imagine where the reader is a princess and Ivar travels to England with his brothers & thinks the princess is beautiful but he gets teased by Sigurd and his brothers but she can understand their language and decides to flirt with him in front of everyone?”

So I made her Kwenthrith’s daughter because why the fuck not, and Blaeja (Aelle’s daughter) is on this cause again, why the fuck not. Also the Reader might be a tad insane, but at this rate all my Reader characters are idk what to tell u

Word Count: 4.7k (I’m sorry lol)

Warnings: Mentions of rape and child abuse, mentions and allusions to violence and death, my horrible writing

A/N: Idk how I feel about this, I hope I don’t dissapoint the anon that requested it lol. Hope you enjoy, thank you for reading, and ily! <3

Also, I kinda went a lil overboard :/

The handmaid is fixing the coronet over your head when you hear the doors to your rooms open, so she turns to demand propriety from whoever entered unannounced, but seeing Aelle’s daughter with a devilish smile on her lips stops her on her tracks.

“Your Grace.” The woman bows gracefully, and steps back, letting Blaeja take her place.

“Are you ready?” The girl whispers to you, adept hand working at the tresses of your hair to make sure it is carefully hidden under your veil that showcases the delicate circlet on your head.

“You are the one that will be sent off to be married, my friend,” You remind her, chuckling, “To one of those…”

“Lord Sigurd is not that bad,” She interrupts, what for a second sounds like girlish infatuation on her tone. You are opening your mouth to quip on how she refers to one of those brutes as a ‘Lord’ but she clears her throat, and continues, “He played some music for me, the other day.”

“You have nothing to fear then,” You mock with a roll of your eyes, “Maybe he also played music for your father before they executed him, made all of it a much more lovely affair.”

Blaeja tugs at your hair in warning, and you steal a glance at the handmaid that looks carefully at the floor. As if she needed eyes to hear you, as if you didn’t know how she’ll gossip about this with the others.

“Careful, or I’ll ask that you come with me,” She laughs, “I’ll have you sold for two gold coins.”

“You are talking to the heiress to a broken and war-torn kingdom, Lady Blaeja, you better remember that!” You tell her in jest, and she laughs, with that laugh you two share, that laugh born out of despair and loss and uncertainty.

“How could I? Judith never lets me forget what a might Mercia continues to be.” She replies with no little disdain in her tone. After a breath of hesitation, she orders with curt words for the servants to leave you two alone, and once the doors close, the Princess of Northumbria kneels in front of you where you sit, grabbing your hands tightly on her own.

“You are scaring me.”

“There’s no reason to fear,” She tells you even as tears fill her eyes. With a tremulous smile, she whispers, “I heard my sister talking with her husband, about you.”

“Me?”

“Alfred would benefit greatly from having a Mercian Princess as wife,” She states, and though she smiles you feel only cold settling over your heart, dread. “With your mother dead…”

“Dead when King Ecbert, blessed be his memory, took control over Mercia, Blaeja! They already own my kingdom.” You remind her lowly, leaning down so your faces are closer to each other, but this doesn’t dim her smile.

Your heart aches at the reminder of your mother, for her, in all her sins and her scars, was the only family you ever had. The only protection you had, in that palace filled with monsters.

If you think about it, if you sit surrounded by all your sins and your mistakes and your faults and think about it, you know it was the sight of her shaking hands as she looked at them expecting to see blood and told you of the death of her brother that made you stop having faith in your God.

It wasn’t the death of a would-be king at the hands of his sister what made you realize the bishops and priests and deacons and saints were all full of lies, no. It was the emptiness in her gaze as she spoke of walking out of that room a Queen and realizing it wasn’t enough to make up for the pain he -the last remaining alive in the long line of monsters that made up your family- caused her.

It was the hoarse voice of the proud and ruthless Queen of Mercia telling you of the barbarity that took place right under her father’s willfully ignorant gaze, it was the shaking hands that clasped your own and begged for forgiveness that she didn’t need to ask for, it was the severed heads brought in by the Vikings that weren’t enough to heal her, it was the realization God, if he was ever there, looked away most of her life.

You shake those thoughts off, and focus on the Princess before you that smiles in a mix of joy for your fate and bitterness for hers.

With shaky breaths, you insist, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“They would have Mercian blood on their lineage, it would strengthen their claim.” She states, and the disgust it fills you with makes you feel shame. You should be ecstatic at the chance of becoming Queen, at the prospect giving Wessex strong sons to prepare for ruling and beautiful daughters to…to exchange like broodmares, like Blaeja, given to a Viking of all men, breakable daughters to fail to protect, like Kwenthrith, raped by her own brother and uncle.

You remember your mother’s pain. You remember her whispers about the court being filled with snakes, you remember her stories about the women with swords and loud voices.

And you remember King Ecbert’s lessons. You remember his tales about the land where his Ragnar Lothbrok came from, you remember his bitterness at the strange land that captured the heart of a man of God such as Athelstan.

You meet her brown eyes, and force a smile on your lips, because may the earth part underneath your feet and drag you down, you will not wed Alfred.

____

They introduce you to the sons of Ragnar, and you will admit, Blaeja looks positively smitten by the easy smile the blond man gives her in greeting. Lovely.

Judith makes a point of having you be sitting next to Alfred who, blessed be his soul, attempts to strike conversation with you only to be stopped by his own shyness.

You still offer him a few courteous smiles, and thank his kindness when he offers it so. When the Vikings talk amongst each other, mostly about the strange food and customs, you notice the King looks at you to gauge your expression, as if he knows you also know their tongue.

You worry about how much King Ecbert shared with him for a moment, but say nothing.

“So, the one that walked in with your bride,” One of the sons of Ragnar starts, and though you decide to pay attention you keep your gaze on your food and the entertainment going on around you, offering one of the performers a small smile. “Who is she?”

“Princess of Mercia, I think. The crazy queen father fought for with Uncle Rollo and the others, that’s her daughter.” A man with hair that you thought first was short but realized later falls down his back in a thick braid, his blond beard unkept, but his eyes those of an experienced man as they look over the room.

“Let’s hope beauty is not all she shares with that crazy bitch, huh? I would love to fuck a Saxon princess again.” Mocks a man you weren’t introduced to, so not a son of Ragnar, with ink on his face and long dark hair.

You realize too late you have lifted your gaze and set your eyes on him, what is sure to be affront and embarrassment showing on your face.

You lower your eyes again to the table before you, clenching your hands into fists on your lap, but you feel like someone is looking at you, and from the other end of the table, when you peek carefully, you catch the eyes of the one they introduced but whose name you can’t remember, the one with short dark hair, the one whose legs seem to be broken.

He looks at you with a silver of surprise, but there’s something else there. Regardless, you know he knows, and it makes fear settle on your stomach like acid. You wonder if this is what Burgred felt when he was poisoned.

“You’ve been staring at her all night, Ivar,” Blaeja’s betrothed starts, voice sickly mocking. “Are you hoping she’ll look back? Take your cripple ass to her bed?”

“Sigurd…” One of the elder brothers grumbles, clearly tired of it all.

“I’m just saying, he’d have more luck forcing a thrall to touch him than hoping a free woman will.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, brother? Fucking your slave so she can’t even say no.”

“Who out of the two of us will bed a princess, hmm? It surely isn’t the cripple that can’t even please a slave right, is it?”

You and Alfred exchange a look, no longer pretending either of you don’t understand, as the youngest, Ivar, snarls some threat at his brother, voice and temper rising alike.

Refusing to be spoken of like some sort of cunt with a crown, you speak up, though your gaze remains on your plate.

“Princess Blaeja asks you to play that awful lute to keep your paws off her, so I fear that arrogance is unfounded, my Prince.”

Alfred chokes on his drink as he tries covering a startled laugh with a cough, and you feel wide eyes from the end of the table where the Vikings seat settle on you.

“What did you say?” One of the men asks slowly, and with the madness your mother left you with, you lift your gaze and meet the eyes of the man you recognize as Bjorn Ironside.

“My mother wasn’t crazy,” Is all you reply with gritted teeth, before turning to the blonde that Blaeja is to marry. You don’t know what it is that makes you open your mouth again, but you do, “And I was indeed looking at your brother. I feel for you deeply, my Prince, if you can’t recognize want in a woman’s gaze.”

Alfred clears his throat, what you could swear is a smile -the youthful smile of a boy witnessing chaos- shyly settling on his lips, and stands up to propose a toast and dissipate the atmosphere.

“With this being one of the last nights our dear Blaeja, daughter of the late King Aelle, blessed be his soul, spends with us, I-…”

You don’t listen anymore, taking a sip from your wine and catching over the rim of your goblet the eyes of the youngest son of Ragnar -Ivar, you remind yourself- on you, studying you with a mix of mistrust and curiosity.

You keep your gaze on his, and as you lower your cup from your lips, you offer a smile. His own lips tremble in what was sure to be an instinctual reply with a smile of his own, before he schools his features.

Regardless, he takes his eyes off yours and in his whole posture embarrassment is written. Managing to fluster a Viking of all men fills you with a thrill, a heat, like no other.

The men toast and you gesture your goodbyes as the dinner is dispersed. Before you can make it out the door, Blaeja stops you with a hand on your arm.

“What did y-…do you speak their tongue?”

“I do. King Ecbert taught me a lot before he died,” You state, before frowning in confusion and thoughtfulness, “Before he died at the hands of these men…Blaeja, my friend, don’t you ever stop and think about how strange it all has become?”

Blaeja only narrows her eyes with a growing exasperated smile on her lips.

“I care about what you said to my future husband.”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” You pat her cheek in friendly jest, making her roll her eyes. After a moment of consideration, you tell her, “Though he may not play his lute as often anymore, I fear.”

____

You wait impatiently by the window to your room, wondering over and over if this is the wrong choice, if you are making the worst mistake possible, if you are walking into the wolf’s den.

Before you can think yourself out of this, Blaeja, with her head covered by a dark cloak, makes her way into your room.

“I didn’t think your betrothed would agree.” Is all you state, dryly, as she motions for you to get your own cloak.

“Oh, I can assure you Prince Sigurd despises you, but luckily, he seems to adore me. Go, and don’t make me regret this.”

With a light laugh you kiss her cheek and dart out of the room, ready to follow the familiar path to where you asked Prince Sigurd to arrange a meeting between his brother and you.

“So it is you.” He says, dragging himself up a couch in front of yours. You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling, and try to remember all the logic, all the strategy, you’ve put behind this stupid plan of yours.

“I told them to let you know.” You reply curtly, but the Prince shrugs.

“Sigurd could be mocking me. Make the cripple think he is meeting with the Princess?” He shrugs, but it is not nonchalant in the slightest. In all of his fame and vitriol, you notice, now only remains a man uncertain, unmoored, braced for rejection or mocking like you’ve scarcely seen before. The knowledge that you, or the combination of you and his older brother, seem to be a vulnerable point for him is a knowledge you don’t truly know what to do with. You say nothing in response, and with a movement of his head, after settling in his seat, he insists, “Why did you want to meet with me?”

“You norsemen have a reputation,” You start carefully, plucking at a lose string on the sleeve of your dress. “And the crown needs the allegiance Blaeja’s marriage with your brother gives them, so no mat-…”

“I don’t like your roundabout ways,” He states brusquely, and it stops you on your tracks, your eyes wide and lips parted as you stare at the Prince. He gestures with one hand, a frown starting to mar his face, “Just say what you want, Princess.”

“I want you to take me with you back to wherever it is you come from. I want them to believe I’ve been stolen.”

The Prince looks at you like you have grown a second head, and to be quite frank, once the words have left your lips you realize you might as well have. This is foolish, and dangerous, and...crazy.

That’s what they called your mother, not only these norsemen but all of them. Because she admitted what many didn’t dare to: that if she had been born with a cock they all would have bowed and given her the crown she deserved, that the earth would have been easier to walk on.

You refuse to think madness is a bad trait.

You don’t have to ponder whether the Viking will see it as such, for you notice you have piqued his interest, you notice the curiosity at the madness in your request.

“Are you sure you aren’t the mad Mercian princess?”

You offer a humorless laugh at his taunt, and retort, “I don’t want to be here anymore. And…I can prove useful to you.”

“If you say a wife…”

You don’t let him finish, leaning closer and whispering,

“They want me to marry Alfred.”

“And you don’t want to.”

“His grandfather took Mercia from me, I will not be used as a broodmare so they can hold on tighter to my kingdom.”

The Viking starts to smile, wild and yet calculating, the ruthless and intelligent man his fame says he is.

“But you don’t want revenge.”

“They can fight for the scraps of what once was a mighty kingdom for the rest of time for all I care,” You offer honestly, “I do not want to be caught up in between. I will have to give him children if I marry him, and I refuse to let a child of mine suffer like my mother did, like Blaeja did.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, and his tone grows cruel, mocking, like the cat that plays with the poor mouse before eating it, when he insists, “I could make you a slave, sell you. If you annoy me, I could torture you. If you betray me, I would kill you.”

“I told you I was of use to you, though,” You insist past the fear that makes your hands tremble, “I will not be of use in pieces. You and Alfred played chess before, haven’t you?”

He loosens his posture, his expression is no longer so guarded and venomous as he asks, “And what is this use?”

“I’m a pawn they want to make Queen,” You state, and the Viking starts to smile. You knew he was smart; you knew he was aware of how he could take advantage of ‘taking’ you as a prisoner for his own gain. You have a feeling he wanted to know if you were aware of how your position could be played. Like chess, you ponder. “Surely you could ask for a lot in exchange for my safe return home.”

He considers your words in silence for a few moments, eyes travelling between yours as if trying to read your response to the words he has not yet uttered.

“And if I don’t want to return you to your home?”

You shrug, “Then they’ll have a rallying call for their war against your people, and I will be free from these…these nobles and their fucking priests.”

The Viking breathes a laugh, surprised and a little enthralled it seems, but you find yourself smiling back.

You keep careful eyes on the moon that travels the skies, watchful over the time that you will have to return to your rooms before anyone notices your absence. But in the meantime, you enjoy with easy smiles and a light heart the company of the Viking, surprisingly enough.

____

And the few extra days Blaeja can buy you do almost nothing for the plans of your escape -a part of you is certain the Viking has a plan he won’t share with you- but it does let you get to know the man you are asking to kidnap you. A giant brute like the others, that’s for certain, but he is smart, and cunning, and his dry humor never fails to make you laugh.

You find yourself intrigued, captivated, much more so than you could have thought when you made the choice to speak out against his brother during that first dinner. It is no secret to you he is no longer a pawn in the game you decided to play, but you cannot help but think you still are merely a pawn to him.

One of the nights you meet under the guard of the moon, he starts, “I cannot take you from this city, not without an army.”

“I know.”

His eyebrows raise, “And you have thought of a way around that.”

“Haven’t you?” You reply with a small smile, knowing he has.

“If you could go closer to York…”

“Or you closer to Tamworth.”

“We’d have no way to leave by sea. I can’t exactly walk through the wilderness with you, Princess, as you can see.”

You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips, but eventually acquiesce with a nod.

You sigh, “Then I don’t know, Ivar.”

You notice it is the first time you have said his name instead of his title, and you raise startled and apologetic eyes to him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though you notice his gaze lingering on you for a few moments longer than it should.

It gives your still young and innocent heart a shock of hope that you feel all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“One way or another, I will steal you, Princess,” He insistes, and you only lift an eyebrow in response. He crosses his arms, “I promise.”

____

“They leave tonight.” Blaeja starts from her place sitting at your side on the garden bench. You turn to her.

“You leave tonight,” You remind her, “Aren’t you forgetting your lovely husband to be?”

But she shakes her head, “Prince Sigurd and I will marry if he returns,” Her voice wavers, and you realize with a mix of dread and joy she has learned to care for the Viking. She straightens her back and continues, “When he returns from the battle they depart today to prepare for.”

“Against Alfred?”

“Against the woman that murdered their mother. He says they are to take back their Kingdom from her.”

“Your Prince trusts you with all of these things.”

“His brother tells you things too.” She states without hesitation, and you look at her but stay silent, not denying Ivar has told you of Queen Aslaug and her murder already. Many things actually, just as you have told him many things too.

“So it will be a while before you see him again, if ever.” You muse, not only talking about her. It would be foolish to feel pain, loss, fear; you tell yourself. It doesn’t stop the prick of tears on your eyes, or the pit of pain on your chest.

“I will depart to Bamburgh in three days to await word of the outcome of the battle.”

You lay your head on her shoulder, releasing a shaky breath, “I’ll miss you.”

_____

Judith hounds you like a dog and it is starting to get on your nerves. You feel you are being judged and considered carefully for the role of Alfred’s wife, a role you do not want to be in and, if you were to ask him, you don’t think he’d want you in either.

The talks start of having a royal wedding soon after Blaeja weds the Viking Prince, who seems to have survived the battle for Kattegat. You tried asking around, bribing a servant or two, to figure out the fate of Prince Ivar, but you are too close to bearing the crown for them to feel comfortable trading secrets with you, it seems.

You catch sight of Alfred’s eyes on you during a dinner one night, and he offers what you swear is a soothing smile even if his warm eyes shine with regret.

Judith grabs onto her son’s arm and a tired-looking Aethelwulf stands up from his throne, calling for the attention of the clergy and nobles alike.

They announce you as Alfred’s betrothed after a few words you don’t bother with listening to.

As a gift for his bride to be, Alfred arranges for a few soldiers to escort you to Bamburgh, apparently at the request of Princess Blaeja that you accompany her on her wedding day. And barely with time to pack, almost three months after you last saw her, you are in a carriage on your way to the North.

____

She looks radiant, that’s the first thing you notice when you see her awaiting for you by the gates to the royal home. Bright smile and even brighter eyes, rosy cheeks and excitement and joy written all over her posture.

It gladdens you, to know she will be wed to a man she can care for, a man that can care for her. That maybe, just maybe, like in those tales your mother used to mock, there’s love to be felt before the Lord is to bind them together.

And once the ships arrive you will not lie and pretend you don’t feel disappointment, maybe grief, at the absence of the vitriolic yet captivating prince you met what seems so long ago.

You heard them talking about a son of Ragnar becoming King of Kattegat, and you have no doubts as to who bears the crown now. In another world, you may have left, he may have earned a kingdom in what used to be Mercia or Northumbria in exchange for the safe return to Wessex you’d never make.

But you will not let it stop you from finding a way out of this arrangement, of this…this marriage.

The possibility of asking Blaeja to claim you as a permanent resident of her land is there, of course, but you don’t think she has enough leverage against the crown itself to be able to keep you more than a few months. You could simply run away, but you are not stupid, you know you’d die or be found before you can spend a moon in the wilderness.

Still, you are a smart woman, you tell yourself, you will find a way out.

While the dinner -feast, they call it- in celebration for the wedding takes place, a man you recognize as one of the eldest sons of Ragnar approaches you while you sit alone.

You cannot help the pang of fear that runs through you at the sight of one of those giants looming over you, but you still offer what you hope is a courteous smile.

“You have to come with me.” He tells you, and you frown.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Follow me.”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, turning his back to you and slithering effortlessly between the dancing and feasting guests. After a moment of consideration, with a small smile on your face as if it were a thrillingly dangerous game of hide and seek, you chase after the Viking.

He leads you all the way down to the docks, and since the moon is high up in the skies, the streets are almost deserted and you are left forced to guide yourself in the darkness or thanks to the rare and dim light of a faraway lantern.

You still push on, your heart beating on your ears and fear and thrill bubbling under your skin.

“This is where I leave you, Princess,” The son of Ragnar says, stopping abruptly and turning to you. You frown, but he doesn’t step closer so you have nothing to fear. “We will see each other again.”

The man with the blondish and long hair gestures a mock of a formal goodbye, and walks confidently back to the royal home where the party -feast- is still taking place.

You are left dumbfounded and alone in the darkness, and instinct makes you want to chase after him and demand answers.

“Following a strange Viking into the darkness,” A familiar voice starts from behind you, stopping you on your tracks, “No wonder people say you are as crazy as your mother, Princess.”

You turn around with a frown and raised chin, ready to retort, “My mother was not c-…”

But you realize halfway as the words leave your lips whose voice it is, to whom the familiar pale blue eyes belong to.

Ivar stands now, and his hair seems longer and braided in some strange style, even his armor looks different. It seems like years have passed even though it has scarcely been half a year yet.

“You’re alive.” You whisper, and the Viking frowns, affronted.

“Of course I am,” He replies arrogantly, and you cannot keep the smile from your lips. He extends a hand, “And I’ve come to…steal you, was it?”

You don’t answer, even if a part of you is thrilled at him remember that first conversation. You only look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re a king now.”

“Hmm, and I was offered a queen, was I not?”

It startles you back to reality, back to your senses, and you notice the three ships with dim lanterns and silent warriors docked at the sides of the dragon-headed ship Ivar -King Ivar now, you suppose- stands in.

“That’s…not what I meant.” You say, but still your hand grasps at the skirts of your dress to lift it up, and you walk closer.

“Have you decided to stay with them?” And the sudden steel underneath his words, a promise of what you could be at the other end of if he is to believe you’ve fooled him, or gone back on your word, makes a thrill of fear go down your back.

“No, but…”

“Usually stealing a bride doesn’t involve this much talking, Princess.” He interrupts, and extends a hand, and you look at it with wide eyes.

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“I-…” You look into his eyes, pale blue eyes that you saw more than once when you closed your own in these past months, and a breathy laugh leaves your lips, “This is madness.”

Ivar says nothing, but his hand is still stretched between you. You take it, and jump into the ship.

___

So, that was it :/ I have a feeling it’s pretty boring but I’ll hope that’s cause I wrote it lol

Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think, and if you wanna rquest anything go right ahead, I promise to try my best lol

Thank you, I hoped you enjoyed <3

[pluto-writes]

hello!! this is my first bsd req aha,, can i have hcs for the port mafia members (like chuuya or akutagawa) reacting to the reader revealing that they've been secretly dating akutagawa? thanks ^_^

Hello to you too anon ^^ Pleased to be the one to receive your first bsd request! Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy ヽ(〃＾▽＾〃)ﾉ (Sidenote: Apparently the human body needs these things called ‘vitamins’ and without them you ‘can’t function’ and ‘feel tired all the time you just sleep for more than half the day’. So now I take vitamins.)

Words: 2,420

Reader revealing that they've been secretly dating Akutagawa/Chuuya.

Akutagawa Ryunosuke 

Higuchi was on her way home, thinking about what to make for dinner for her sister. Until she spotted her senpai coming out of a store, his arm looped together with another person.

She froze, coming to a bunch of different conclusions, but then she remembered about the incident not too long ago with Gin, who ended up being his sister. ‘Maybe this is another relative?’ She thought to herself, hoping that she was right.

That hope quickly shattered when the person kissed Akutagawa on the lips and he returned it. Mouth agape, Higuchi could hardly believe her eyes.

“Akutagawa-senpai is dating someone??? And I didn’t know?” She continued to keep an eye on them, seeing how they act together, and debating if she should just barge in on them and save her senpai. 

She refrained herself from doing so since she didn’t want her senpai to get mad at her again, he made it clear before that he doesn’t like receiving help when he doesn’t want it.

After an hour passed, the two walked away, presumably on their way home. She called it a day and decided to continue her personal investigation as to who that person was for tomorrow. When she got home, she couldn't think of anything else and left her sister to make them dinner.

Morning finally came, and she had a plan ready to figure out who the mysterious person with her senpai was. When she walked into the headquarters she saw you immediately. 

“Ah, (Y/n)-san, can I have a moment with you?” She called out. Her being your superior, you obliged.

“Yes, what can I do for you, Higuchi-san?” You respond, being respectful towards her. 

“You work as part of the espionage group, correct?” You nodded, wondering why she would need you, as far as you knew Mori hasn’t given you any work for a few days and you’ve been using that free time to spend it with your boyfriend. Gah! Even thinking about it gave you butterflies. 

“One of the best!” It was thanks to your ability mostly, it helped you render yourself unrecognizable so you can be free to spy without your true self being seen. “What happened? Do you need my help?”

“It’s selfish of me to abuse my power this way… but I need your help. I want you to stalk- uh… follow Akutagawa for the rest of the day. Yesterday I saw a suspicious person with him, and I want you to figure out who it was…” Truthfully, Higuchi would’ve liked to be the one to get to the bottom of this situation but she knew that would upset him.

“Alright,” you agreed, “wait… yesterday?” That’s weird. You were with him yesterday, and you’re sure you would’ve noticed a person like that on your outing. Even if it was your day off your instincts would kick in and alert you of any danger. 

“Yes. it was most concerning. Senpai didn’t seem to be aware of the danger that could be present. At first I had thought it was another relative I did not know about… but then… I saw the person kiss him! Clearly they have him under some sort of spell so that they can have him obey them!” The more she spoke the more her eyes gained a fire in them, “We have to save him! I’m counting on you!”

Oh. Oh. She must have seen the two of you yesterday. This was embarrassing but you can’t let her think that you were using Akutagawa.

“Um… about that…” You pulled at the collar of your shirt, clearly nervous. You would have liked to keep it a secret that the two of you were dating but you guess it was inevitable to try to keep it hidden. “The person you saw yesterday with him was me…”

You let your words sink in, Higuchi gasped. “Huh!? But you looked so different- the two of you were- you and him- I saw you kiss-” She jumped from topic to topic, stunned by the information you told her. After a couple minutes she composed herself, “You’re dating Akutagawa-senpai?”

“Yes… I’m sorry you had to find out this way. We wanted to keep it a secret since things would just be better without people knowing, so please don’t tell anyone!”

Higuchi couldn’t believe it. The truth was right in front of her but she still didn’t want to accept it. You? Dating her senpai? It didn’t make sense to her.

The thought of commanding you to stay aware from him briefly crossed her mind, but she didn’t want to indulge in that fantasy. She remembered how carefree her senpai seemed while he was with you. And how he smiled your way without hiding it. 

He just looked overall calmer with you… and she didn’t want to take that happiness away from the two of you. 

You waited anxiously for her response, if her earlier reaction was anything to go by, it was clear that the news didn’t please her.

“I won’t.”

“Please, I’m begging, don’t tell anyon- wait. What!? You won’t!?” You’re genuinely surprised by her answer, you thought she’d flat out deny you. 

“I won’t tell anyone you are dating Akutagawa-senpai.” Before you could say thank you to her she cut you off, “But don’t be mistaken… I’m not saying this solely for your sake. Yesterday, I saw how he acted around you. He seemed happy with you… at peace by your side.” 

Her words moved you and made you feel overjoyed. For her to say this to you was basically the same thing as a blessing. 

“Know that if you cause Akutagawa-senpai any pain, I will return it ten-fold.” As she said this her eyes pierced your soul, it sent a shiver down your spine since you’ve never seen her like this.

Nodding, you responded slightly scared by her threat, “Of- of course! I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“Good.”

When she walked away, her words were still rooted in your head. You wouldn’t want to do anything that would cause him pain, not because of her threat, but the idea of causing him any suffering after everything he had endured would hurt you more than any beating, a mafia style execution wouldn’t be enough punishment.  

Nakahara Chuuya

Kouyou noticed a shift in Chuuya’s behavior recently. He wasn’t as rash as he used to be, one could say he seemed to be calmer, but at the same time more on edge. As if something was bothering him.

He didn’t have a permanent scowl on his face throughout the day, whenever he was on the phone with someone, a gentle smile appeared on his face. And even after the short call was over he’d still have that same smile on until someone called out his name.

She thought it was strange, since before whenever Chuuya was bothered by something, he’d come to her and tell her his problems and she’ll be there for him and help him. But he hasn’t told her anything yet, and she’s worried about him.

When she was first told to watch over Chuuya, she wasn’t that interested in his well being. However, as time passed she came to hold a certain fondness for the boy and wished to be there to protect him.

Which was why now, she was trailing after him. Staying a little over a block and a half behind him so as to not be suspicious. Earlier, she had overheard him on the phone making an arrangement at a restaurant. While making that call he had that same stupid smile that infuriated her. 

‘Why hasn’t he told me anything? He knows I’ll always be there for him��� so why?’

All these thoughts rushed into her head, and confused her as to where she had gone wrong for Chuuya to not open up to her. 

She had no more time to dawdle on these thoughts, when she saw Chuuya stop in front of the restaurant. In one smooth motion, Chuuya turned his wrist towards his face and checked the time. 

“Good, I’m here a bit early. Wouldn’t want to make them wait on me,” A soft blush blossomed on his face as he thought about you. After checking in with the receptionist he came back outside to wait for you.

From the corner of the building, Kouyou listened in on what he was saying, “He’s waiting for someone? Just what could he be planning..?” She muttered to herself. Just as she was about to look over, a new voice entered the scene, causing her to retreat back to her hiding spot.

“Chuuya!” You cheered, unable to contain your excitement. “I’m so glad to see you!” You locked your fingers with his gloved one. “We haven’t been able to go out like this for a while.”

“I know, between our missions finding time to spend together was hard, but I’m glad too. Being able to see you today is the best part of my day.” 

His comment made your face get warm and caused your heart to skip a beat, “ U-um,” you shifted in your spot, unsure how to properly respond. “Let’s head inside now… we wouldn’t want to be late, now would we?” You smiled at him in an attempt to calm your nerves but he just smirked back at you. 

“Of course, whatever you want, my highness.”

“Chu-Chuuya! Please don’t tease me…”

As you moved to pull open the door, Chuuya was already there to open the door for you, “After you, your highness.” He bowed.

“Stoppp,” You groaned in embarrassment, but he knew you liked it when he called you that.

Once Kouyou heard the door close, she moved from her hiding spot and looked through the clear door. She could see Chuuya holding your hand as the waitress guided the two of you to your table. 

‘Just who is he with? If I get a closer look…’

As if some being was heading her prayers, the same waitress that sat you down was walking towards the side door to throw out garbage. ‘Perfect.’ It was fortunate for Kouyou but bad luck on the waitress’ part. 

After she knocked her out, Kouyou donned on the waitress uniform and made it back into the restaurant undetected. She picked up her pen and notebook and walked her way over to your table. 

“What can I start with for the lovely couple here?” She wasn’t dense, she knew that the hand holding, the smiling, the looks she saw that the two of you shared, and the choice of restaurant must have meant. She didn’t want to face that reality, she wanted the two of you to deny it, tell her that she had the wrong assumption and that you two were just friends but that wasn’t the case.

“I’d have the...” Chuuya told her some name that you didn’t really understand. “And my lovely date here would like-”

“Chuuya!” You lightly kicked his leg under the table, and leaned over the table, “You can’t just say that! I thought we were keeping it a secret!” 

“(Y/n), it’s fine. We have nothing to worry about here, we come here all the time and the staff have a no talking policy. Plus, it’s probably obvious by now…”

Even though the two of you thought you were whispering, Kouyou heard everything she needed to hear. Her suspicions were correct, the two of you were dating… She wasn’t sure how to take the news. So she continued to take your order and passed it onto the kitchen staff.

When that was done and said, she slipped out of the restaurant. “(Y/n), was it? Hmm, where have I heard that name before…” She mulled over it on her way back to the mafia. 

She also thought about what to do, she had her own opinions with love, none of them positive. She had experience as to what love can do for a person, and she doesn’t want Chuuya to live through the same experience. It took her awhile to cope with her loss.

Back in the comfort of her office, she found a distraction to lose herself in, until a knock interrupted her. “May I come in?” The voice was simultaneously unfamiliar and familiar. 

“It’s open.”

The doorknob turned and the door opened to reveal you, the same person she saw with Chuuya earlier that day. She hid her surprise when she saw you and put on a fake smile, “What do you wish to speak with me about?”

“I know you know… about Chuuya and I. You were at the restaurant…” Your words shocked her, she thought her disguise was enough to not get recognized. “I never seen you face to face before, so it would’ve worked. But your thoughts gave you away.

“My ability allows me to hear the thoughts of others. I heard what you thought about Chuuya, and your views on love and… I understand that you care about him and want to protect him, but know that I love and care for him too! He talks very highly of you, and I wouldn’t want to be the reason your relationship with him gets strained. So, please,” You kneeled on the floor and placed both of your hands in front of you on the ground, “allow us to stay together.” You placed your head down.

Kouyou wasn’t expecting a dogeza… She opened her fan and covered her face as she contemplated it. She was now aware of your ability, but it still comforted her by having her face covered. Once she came to her conclusion she walked over to your bowing form on the floor.

“Get up,” she put her hand under your chin to look at her as you started to get up, “Now listen cause I’ll only say this once.

“I may have my own opinions on love, but I trust that Chuuya knows what’s good for him. That you’re a good fit for him, and won’t be the one to bring him down, but that you’ll be the one who gives him strength.” 

Elated by her words, and feeling as if a weight has been lifted, you go in for a hug, “Thank you! Ane-san!” You felt her stiffen under you as you said that, “...Too much?”

She hugged you back, “It’s… quite alright. Thank you,” she spoke softly. She didn’t say what she was grateful for, but you had an idea what she was thanking you for.

[myhockeyworld87]

Choices - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn - Part 30

Word Count: 3,375

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language

Notes: So we’re at the second last chapter. This will be the last time that you guys get to vote. I’m like super sad about that, but I’ll save my sappy note for the last chapter. Voting is open until Sunday at 9am this time. I’m giving you guys a bit longer. PLEASE PLEASE only vote once, if you’re voting on anon, so that this is fair. I mean honestly, I know it happens. I can see what times the votes come in...hahaha I don’t care if only 3 of you vote...haha I’ll be fine with that. At any rate here you go! Happy Reading!

Choices Masterlist

You kept reading the words in the email from the testing center over and over again. It couldn’t be true. They sent you the wrong results and didn’t know where yours were. What the hell had happened? And then it hit you, maybe this was a blessing in disguise. If Tyler wasn’t the father of the twins, and it was Jamie; all your problems would be solved. There wouldn’t be a need for a lawsuit, which meant not sharing custody or having to worry about Tyler taking your children away from you. The only thought in your mind was that you had to tell Jamie. 

 Tyler’s words stopped you short though. Was he right? Would telling Jamie only get his hopes up to be let down, if the test came back still saying Tyler was the dad? For all his rough exterior, Jamie was a softy at heart. It would be devastating for him to learn that he wasn’t the babies' father, but he had been your rock through this. He’d already loved these children, and as far as he knew they weren’t his. He’d proven his self tenfold compared to Tyler. You would not; no, you could not, keep this from him.

 “I’m sorry Tyler, but you’re wrong. Jamie needs to know. Whatever the outcome; he can handle it. I’m not going to lie to him.”

 Tyler just hung his head, shielding his thoughts from you. “Fine, but I’m going with you.” You went to argue, but he held up his hand. “It’s time we all start working together.” The statement was something that you couldn’t disagree with, so you nodded your agreement. 

 Tyler followed you back to yours and Jamie’s place, however when you pulled into the drive there was a familiar car parked there. One that had your mind swirling with questions, as to why the owner was there. You’d told Jamie you’d be gone a couple hours when you’d texted earlier, but it was still odd that this person was in your home. As you approached the door you could hear raised voices, and Tyler moved to shield you, not knowing what you were walking in to. 

 “I can’t help it if he’s still in love with her.” You heard Jamie’s shouting. “I did everything I can to help you out.”

 “It wasn’t enough. You promised me that if we did this Tyler would come running back to me.” It was Kathleen’s voice, but what was coming out of it had you questioning what the two had done together. “It’s been months and nothing. Instead of him running back to me, your little slut is knocked up with his kid.”

 “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” Jamie returned. Tyler had stopped dead in his tracks as the two of you listened to the exchange. From the expression on his face, he was just as curious as you were as to what exactly was going on. You made a move to step into the room, but he held out his arm halting your progress.

 An evil laugh escaped Kathleen’s lip. “That’s what she is you know. Jumping from your bed to his. She probably got knocked up on purpose.” You let out a silent gasp. It was never your intention to get pregnant, though you considered it a blessing. 

 “She would never do something like that.”

 “Don’t be so naïve Jamie. Women do it all the time. That is if she even is pregnant.” 

 “How dare you compare (Y/N) to Tara!” Wait, what? Did Jamie know that Tara faked her pregnancy with Christopher? “She’s nothing like her.”

 You had enough of eavesdropping. It was time to get everything out in the open. “What the hell is going on here?” You asked as you entered the kitchen, Tyler hot on your heels. 

 “(Y/N)…um…a…I can explain,” Jamie stuttered through his response.

 “You damn well better, and you can start by telling me what this woman is doing is our home?” 

 “Well…a…Kathleen just stopped by to uh…” the more Jamie struggled with telling you the truth, the angrier you got. You folded your arms across your chest and were just shy of tapping your foot impatiently when he raked his hands through his hair and said. “Fuck it. There’s no good reason she’s here, other than she wants him back.” He motioned over to Tyler.

 Just then you saw, Kathleen try and sneak out the back door. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? You’re not leaving until I’m satisfied that I’ve heard the truth…from both of you.” Kathleen turned back around heading back into the kitchen to join the rest of you. “I think you need to start from the beginning.” When no one responded you added. “Like maybe why she thinks you of all people could help her win him back.”

 “Fuck that,” Tyler piped in, having heard everything you did while eavesdropping. “I want to know if you knew that my son never existed.” Kathleen’s eyes widened in shock, you assumed because Tyler actually knew the truth. When no one said anything, Tyler took a quick step towards Jamie, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Tell me the fucking truth.” You moved between the two men, nothing was going to get settled if they started throwing punches at each other.

 “Enough!” You yelled pulling Tyler back from Jamie. “This isn’t going to solve anything.” He backed off then, though you doubted it was the words you spoke, and more from your being there. “Now let’s sit down and get this straightened out.” You crossed over the kitchen and sat at the table and chairs. When no one followed, you glared at them until they all moved to sit. “Now one of you two better start talking, or I swear to god….” You let the threat trail off, not quite sure what you would actually do, but you needed the truth and would get it one way or another.

 “I don’t even know where to start.” Jamie breathed out, placing his head in his hands. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, then looked up and over at Tyler. “I only recently found out that Christopher wasn’t real. Hell, you never even told me you had a kid, man.”

 “So, what does that have to do with anything?” The anger radiating off Tyler was palpable and made an even tense situation worse.

 “Fuck, I don’t know.” Jamie ran his hands through his hair, completely frustrated. 

 “How did you find out?” It was Tyler’s question, but one you needed answered as well, especially considering the lengths you’d gone to get your information.

 “It’s complicated.”

 “This whole fucking thing is complicated Jame.” You told him, yet he still didn’t seem to find the words to explain any of it. You looked over at Kathleen, maybe she could provide the answers you so desperately needed. “Why don’t you start then? I know you’re the one who hit Jamie’s car. Why didn’t you own up to it?”

 “It wasn’t part of the plan.” She answered feebly.

 “What plan?”

 She looked as if she was going to burst into tears at any second. “I…we…”

 Jamie interrupted her. “When you needed time to choose between me and Tyler; you remember way back when I found out you were the love of Tyler's life. I knew then you were going to chose him. I could feel it in my gut.” You winced remembering how awful you had felt. “I called Kathleen and we planned out the whole accident.”

 “But Kathleen had been at Tyler’s house when I got there.”

 “That was planned as well.” You gave him a questioning look. “We decided to give it one last shot, hoping that her being at Tyler’s house would have you running back to me, only using the accident as a backup plan when that didn’t work.” You shook your head in disgust at him. “I found out about Christopher when we came up with the plan. I needed to know what Kathleen had on you.” He said this to Tyler, but it all started to make sense. “She told me about Christopher then, though her story didn’t add up.”

 “I ended up telling him the truth. I knew he wouldn’t say anything; he wanted you just as bad as I wanted Tyler.” Kathleen blurted out.

 “I’m ashamed to say it, but I kept my mouth shut. I knew if Tyler found out his son didn’t exist nothing would stop him from winning you back, (Y/N).”

 “That’s fucked up, Jame.” You couldn’t even look at him right now.

 “I know, I’m so fucking sorry.” He went to grab your hand but you pulled yours away.

 “Don’t,” you whisper yelled at him. “It’s not me you need to apologize to at the moment. It’s Tyler.”

 You didn’t see the glare that Jamie sent Tyler, though he remained silent; causing you to just shake your head. You still had more questions, so you decided it was best to move on, for you thought you’d have to wait for hell to freeze over before that apology came. “So back to the accident. You already admitted you lied about the amnesia, what about the knee Jamie, was that a lie as well?” He swallowed hard and you didn’t need to hear him say the words to know that it was. “Holy Fuck.” You got up out of the chair then and started to pace around the kitchen. It seemed like the last few months of your life were all based on a lie. You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. “You can go,” you finally told Kathleen after much consideration. “But don’t think you’re getting away with this.”

 She quickly got up and left the house. “I think you need to call Tara.” You told Tyler. “I have a feeling she’ll be skipping town once she talks to that one.”

 “She’s already being dealt with. I called the lawyer on the way over here.”

 “But you didn’t even know if it was true?”

 Tyler just simply shrugged. “Even if he was real, I knew it was time I started to be in my son’s life.” You nodded in agreement, for what else could you say.

 You looked at both Jamie and Tyler, not knowing what to say or do. Here you were pregnant, with twins, not knowing who the father was, but knowing that neither one was good enough. On one hand, you had Tyler who never acknowledged his son, and then other you had Jamie who’d lied his way back into your life. You had nowhere to go, no job, and two kids on the way. To say you were royally screwed was an understatement. 

 Jamie's voice disrupted your mental pity party. “What are you two doing together anyhow?”

 There was no point in hiding the truth anymore, for it didn’t matter. “While you were gone, I did some snooping on my own. I found out about Christopher and had to tell Tyler. I knew you wouldn’t approve, so I went to tell him what I’d found out before you came home.”

 “So you lied as well?”

 “Don’t try and fucking compare what I did, to the shit you just pulled.” You were angry and you could feel your blood pressure start to rise. The room started to spin and you grabbed a hold of the counter to steady yourself. Both men were at your side before you could fall. Though it was Jamie who scooped you up and carried you over to the couch.

 “Just breath sweetheart.” He whispered as stars swam in your vision. “Grab a bottle of water.” Jamie’s voice sounded distant even though you knew he was kneeling beside you. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

 “Here babe, take a sip of this.” Tyler offered the water while looming over the back of the couch. You took a few small sips and started to feel your body return to normal. “What can we do (Y/N)?”

 It was a simple question, but you had no idea how to answer it as tears started to fall down your face. It was all too much and you clutched your belly, holding on to the only constant you had at the moment; your babies. Jamie made a move to comfort you, but you brushed him off. You did the same to Tyler as well. “I need a moment alone.” Both men disappeared out of the living room then and you were grateful for this moment of peace. You curled up on the couch, grabbing the blanket on the back to snuggle under. “Don’t worry little ones, I’ll figure this mess out.” You closed your eyes, willing your mind to stop racing, and thankfully it did. Sleep came easy, as you were both mentally and physically exhausted. 

 You weren’t sure how long you’d slept, but the sun had set and the room was covered in darkness. When you woke up, you had no more answers then when you fell asleep, but you felt a bit better. Gently, you got up off the couch as you no longer felt dizzy. You could hear hushed tones coming from the kitchen, where you found Jamie and Tyler in deep conversation.

 “You're awake,” Tyler said as he was the first to see you.

 “How do you feel?” Jamie asked.

 “A little better. Is that from around the corner?” You asked pointing to the pizza box which was laying on the table.

 “Yeah, I got extra cheese just how you like,” Jamie answered.

 “I’ll grab you a water,” Tyler stated, getting up and going over to the refrigerator. Was it just your imagination or were these two actually being nice to each other? You sat down and Jamie placed a slice of pizza in front of you, which you immediately started to eat. “So look (Y/N), I filled Jamie in on the paternity test.” You actually forgot that that was your original intent when you came home. “We called the testing center and have an appointment tomorrow morning.”

 “They said they'd put a rush on the results, but we probably still wouldn’t have them for about three or four days,” Jamie added. Before you could think too much about that, he continued. “Tyler and I decided it would be best if we all work together during that time.” You weren’t exactly opposed to the concept; you just didn’t know what he meant by that either.

 “What Jamie is trying to say, is that we don’t think that you should be alone right now. We know that you’re not happy with either of us and that given the choice, you’d rather be by yourself but that’s just not an option. So, I already brought a bag over and I’ll be staying in one of the guest rooms.”

 “As will I.” Jamie chimed in. “I moved some of my stuff upstairs, so you can have the master all to yourself. It will give you some time to think.” Part of you thought that you must be dreaming or that you were in some alternate reality. It seemed as though they were actually putting your needs first. “We also talked, and no matter what happens with the paternity test…”

 “And whoever you choose,” Tyler added. 

 “We’re going to respect your decision. You know I’ll love these babies no matter who the father is.” Jamie stated as he grabbed your hand.

 Tyler grabbed the other before saying, “I will too (Y/N). The only thing that matters, is yours and their happiness.” 

 You blinked back tears, as this was a step in the right direction. “Wow…I don’t know what to say.”

 “Just say you’re ok with this decision?” Jamie asked.

 “Yeah, I’m ok with it.” It didn’t make your choice between the two any easier, for even after everything they’d both done; you still loved them both, but at least you could start to move forward.

 The following morning both Jamie and Tyler had blood drawn, while you watch the doctor label both samples so that they wouldn’t be confused. Now that you knew you were having twins, the doctor asked if he could draw amniotic fluid from each sac since the babies weren’t sharing one. It would be the most effective and reliable way to find out who the father was. There was a slight risk to the babies, though very minimal he assured you. Both Jamie and Tyler held your hands through the procedure. The doctor had you rest a bit before dismissing you and telling you that they would call you with the results as soon as they had them in.

 Over the next three days, the boys were complete angels. Waiting on you hand and foot, while actually being nice to each other. They even rode together to practice and to the game, almost as if they were friends again. You still caught some underlying tension between the two, but then that was to be expected. It was late in the afternoon on day three when your phone rang, the paternity testing center’s number coming up. You put the phone on speaker so that both men could hear.

 “We have the results in Ms. (Y/L/N), and quite frankly I don’t believe it.” A curious look passed between the three of you. “I can say without a doubt that Mr. Seguin is the father of baby A.” You could see the elation on Tyler’s face, though he did try to contain it. “And I’m just as certain that Mr. Benn is the father of baby B.” You could hear the disbelief in the doctor’s voice.

 “But…how?” Was this even possible?

 “It’s extremely rare, but it has happened on occasion. Well honestly, I’ve only ever seen it once, but having drawn the samples from each sac we can state with 99% accuracy that these results are correct.” You were floored. Over the last three days, you’d made the decision that whoever was the father, you were going to try and work things out with them, but this; this had you not knowing what to do again. “I’ll send the results over so that you have a hard copy, and if you have any questions, please feel free to call.”

 You thanked the doctor before hanging up and looking at both Jamie and Tyler. The smile that was on Tyler’s face before was now gone, replaced with one of shock that mirrored Jamie’s face and your own. “I…I don’t know what to say.” You kept blinking rapidly as if that would somehow make things better. The last three days you had all gotten along, there was no fighting, neither man was overly vying for your attention; it was just peace. You knew it would eventually end with someone being hurt, but this test was to show you a clear path, but instead, there was just more confusion. 

 Jamie was the first to speak. “I’m stunned.” He placed a hand on your belly. “So one of these guys is mine?” You found yourself nodding.

 “And the other is mine.” There was a hint of hardness to Tyler’s voice as he too placed his hand on your abdomen as if he was staking his claim, when he obviously didn’t need to. 

 “I think I’m going to be sick.” You got up and ran to the bathroom, hurling the contents of your stomach into the toilet. This couldn’t be happening. The more you thought about it, the more you heaved. You hadn’t realized both men followed you until someone was holding back your hair while the other was pressing a cool cloth to your forehead. Finally, after what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, you collapsed onto the floor. Tyler scooped you up and carried you into bed, where they both stood over you with worried expressions. “I don’t think I can do this.” You weren’t sure what the statement meant. All you knew is that you didn’t know how to choose between the two of them anymore, but at the same time, you knew you had to.

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

 This is your final Choice! Who do you want to be with?

 A)     Tyler

B)     Jamie

Voting is open until 9am Sunday EST

Make good choices kids!

Sidenote - I forgot to put what the choice count was for the last chapter A -18 and B - 11

[devintrinidad]

Whoa I sent you a lot of asks! (Sure thing. I never know how long,a thought grows but I’ll try to be more mindful. I can imagine how messy that could get). 

Lol those fic snips are adorable. 3803 thinking she’s confiding a big secret about 1146 possibly liking her (she would confess to a platelet XP) only to discover she’s talking to one of 1146’s confidante’s in love advice. 

Killer T is a overly sensitive mess of social drama. He would feel like the world was out to get him, when only two cells were teasing him (Commander T and Dendritic would totally be the ones poking at his non existent love life ‘if even someone hopeless and workaholic like u1146 can get a doting girlfriend what’s that make you? =D). Poor u1146 would get the brunt of his ire. 3803 would be in the dark because 1146 wouldn’t tell her. She’d just think Memory T was being a good friend with all of the 'congratulating’ he does.

1146 rethinking his all calls being friends dream should exclude his friends with 3803. 

Ooh. A RBA sequel with this plotline would be awesome! Honestly even after I posted that I wondered if 3803 forgiving Cancer now Normal cell quickly would be likely. Then I read more RBA and I was like nope she wouldn’t be that at ease. I think thinking about it, 1146 would talk to her about it. How Cancer’s were made. If only because I think she’d ask for one reason or another (I could see her asking him before a newborn ex Cancer cell pops up. Just to get more closure and info so she knows what she’s dealing with better just in case). I think with 3803 she’d forgive. But she wouldn’t forget. Like you said she’s not obligated to be his friend and Cancer cell has A LOT to apologize for. But at the same time she knows logically he’s not a threat so she has no reason to be afraid of him. But she still doesn’t like being alone with him. 

That would actually be a nice way to give a newborn Cancer normal cell character development. He’s lost his one excuse to hurt others and now can live pain free w/o persecution. Even better only a select few immune cells know of his past as Cancer and 3803 is the only non immune who knows. Ex Cancer’s journey could be earning 3803’s and 1146’s true friendship and forgiveness. Basically learning how to really love someone and maybe some different perspective on the world. Idk. I kind of like the absolute monster learns humanity if done well. 

But who knows if he’d ever do it well. =P Cancer did a lot of bad things and he’s got a lot of entitlement and god complexes to work out. He probably still would stubbornly deny he’s as responsible as he is of the things he did. 

How ironic. Cancer’s dream of a world where he’s accepted and it’d start out as a nightmare. He’d still hate what he hated. He’s just useless to do anything about it now.

I’m thinking his and 3803’s relationship would be the most complex. Not just because of how he hurt her. But he’d have to decide if she was soneone he wanted as a lover or a mother. Near the end of RBA it seems 3803 leaned on seeing Cancer as a child.

Oh boy 1146 would not even want to tell 3803 about Cancer’s new situation. But he’d have to because the thought of her being scared/confused while running into ex Cancer cell w/o any warning would be unbearable for him. Like you said, as much as he’d understand and pity ex Cancer’s situation. Ex Cancer still hurt the cell he loves most (and is in love with? Yeah I could see 1146 refraining from confessing to 3803 if he hasn’t by then. If only because of what Cancer did to her and being afraid he was pushing too much on her too soon). But the way I see it. Ex Cancer has this same weird ability to wind up everywhere 3803 is. They get in all sorts of situations. Even situations where 3803 would have to rescue him because she’s still a RBC and she will help any non threatening cell she can. It’s her job (she won’t be happy about it. But she’ll do it). 

Pfft, just imagine if 3803 and ex Cancer wound up caught together in the platelets. They’d be smooshed together and ex Cancer wouldn’t mind. 3803 wouldn’t get ptsd flashbacks and wonder how her luck is so bad. Meanwhile a agitated 1146 is on the outside for once asking for someone to bring the darn scissors for once so he can rip ex Cancer cell out of there.  

Yes. Ex Cancer would totally be devoted to her even when can’t stand his presence and wish he’d go away or never came back. If she was injured he’d visit her in the infirmary and refuse to leave her side. 1146 would definitely try try to be sympathetic but he’d totally be overprotective of 3803’s wellbeing and make her state of being a priority (can you imagine the drama if 1146 ended up saving ex Cancer because he was closer but lost track of 3803. He’d have to deal with the fact he did his job but wants to find 3803 and hope she’s surviving this latest invasion. Then ex Cancer runs off to find her… Total mess). 

Yeah I’m rambling. It’d all be a messy mess of relationships and scars and whether or not some can heal. For everyone. Ex Cancer has a lot to consider and isn’t exactly All Right either. Which I guess would drive him to obsessed over 3803 again. Be it to ensure her safety and warn her friendship. Whether he’s doing it because he genuinely feels bad and wants it for real or because he’s at a lost and needs something to fuel his drive for life. Not even he knows

Thanks for the responses and again for RBA! Have a great day!

Forgot to mention. Just imagine in that RBA sexual scenario where 1146 talks about Cancer's origins with 3803 because he's showing he knows two sides in how he deals with ex Cancer now. 3803 crying because she's sorry she can't get over her trauma and forgive easily as 1146 can and thinks she's less kind for it. 1146 feeling horrible for unintentionally making her feel bad and hugging her. Admitting he still feels rage over what Cancer did to her and doesn't believe he'll ever forgive ex Cancer.

~~~

Thank you so much, CAW Anon! I really appreciate you doing this for me. :D

Get ready for the last chapter, I’ll be uploading it soon. ;)

That platelet situation, heheheh. That would definitely be a disaster and a half, especially if Non-Cancer and 3803 were stuck together. I can only imagine how awkward and terrifying it must be for 3803 (depending on how long ago the Cancer incident was and when Non-Cancer was born). 

Like:

AE-3803, unfortunately, was having a bad day. 

She managed to finish only a tenth of her packages, she managed to get lost en route to the heart, and finally, the body had decided that it was a great day to get their elbow scraped. The abrasion would have been fine (more work for the immune cells and the platelets), but 3803 had taken the wrong route and was now stuck within the blood clot.

Normally, 3803 would have weathered the incident with a smile on her face. However, once she found out that she was chest to chest with him, 3803 knew that she’d rather be phagocytized or sent to the spleen.

“Little Miss--”

3803 scowled up at the cell before brusquely turning away so that she could watch the platelets construct more clots. 

“Don’t call me that.”

The normal cell who used to be Cancer looked taken aback by 3803′s attitude.

“Look, I already--”

3803 glared at him before her eyes softened and she ducked her head low.

“Look, I’d rather...” She took a shuddering breath before facing him once again. “Just... Be quiet, please. I can’t-I can’t do this right now.”

For once, the cell who had once been Cancer, acquiesced to her demands as he fell silent and contemplative. 

It was going to be a long day.

[volepaw]

this is probably a long time ago but i just saw it on my dashboard and if you don’t want to respond that’s fine! I feel so dumb but I really just want to know and I can’t seem to find any ‘explanation’ yet but why what’s thing about the Tribe that makes it racist? Sorry for bothering! (If i’m just being dumb and there is already someone who answered this please let me know)

long post. sorry mobile people

Hey, anon. Sorry this took me a while, my computer died a few months ago and I’ve been using other peoples’ since. Plus I’m just tired of answering questions irt racism but I wanted to actually give you a good answer lol

In universe, frankly, the first issue is the differences from clan cats.

Usually, I’d actually like having groups with different cultures and the like in warriors! I like comparing cultures and seeing differences and effects when it’s handled properly. The problem is how the differences put them at a disadvantage against the clan cats as a whole or show them as strange, primitive, or as something similar to the Noble Savage trope.“The Healer also almost never leaves the cave, because unlike leaders they do not have nine lives and it’s easier for them to be killed.” (x) The fact that the Healer/Teller of Pointed Stones/Stoneteller doesn’t receive nine lives, while indicative of a different culture from the clan cats, clearly places the clans as a more ‘valid’ and legitimate group. This is heightened further when you consider the entire prophecy that they receive during the new prophecy arc.“However, the Tribe has their own prophecy to fulfill: they see Stormfur as their only hope, the silver cat mentioned by the Tribe of Endless Hunting, their spiritual ancestors.“ (x)”A silver cat will come, and rid the Tribe of Rushing Water of the dangerous mountain cat Sharptooth.”(x)While it some will likely argue that this is an unfair comparison considering that they are cats, this harkens back to the White Savior trope/Mighty Whitey trope. Despite the setting becoming more of a fantasy place as production continued, the clans were originally intended to be set in England, specifically in New Forest. (x) Arguably, the original clans can be considered relatively ‘aracial,’ ignoring metaphors such as half-clan kits and the like.This, juxtapositioned with the heavily coded nature of the tribe, creates some unfortunate situations when actually examined. The tribe, with practices including darkening their pelts with mud in order to hide themselves (something that makes me personally uncomfortable) and being able to hunt eagles, harkens back to the Noble Savage trope, with a group doing things that the ‘aracial’ main cast find strange and thrilling to learn and take back with them. Effectively, they use another culture as a backdrop for their own growth and for Stormfur’s story and emotional arc.Stormfur being accused of being the cat of prophecy and Feathertail’s death are just another drop in the bucket of stories of outsiders coming to save indigenous and otherwise non-white groups from problems they can’t solve themselves. There is no reason, truthfully, that a tribe cat couldn’t have dealt with the cougar themselves, given that it took no great skill for Feathertail to kill it. Merely sacrifice. Multiple times over the course of the series, the tribe needs the clan cats to save them from outside threats and every time it feels unnecessary and, frankly, insulting as a Native American myself. A group of cats shown to be able to hunt eagles being unable to figure out a way to drive rogues from their lands is strange, in my eyes, and upsetting at the same time.The argument of subversion could be valid in Stormfur’s case (as he messed it up originally and wasn’t the savior himself at all) if they didn’t go as heavily in the direction of Feathertail being the savior instead. Chosen by the tribe’s ancestors, she even hears voices of the ancestors prior to her death. Feathertail is buried by the tribe with the highest of honors. (x) While in character it’s great for her to have been honored so highly, the fact that the tribe cats had to rely on clan cats to save them is insulting at best.While he wasn’t the actual savior himself, everything with Stormfur and Brook, honestly, is uncomfortable to read when considering the implications of what’s going on. Brook reads like a Chief’s Daughter with four paws. “The Chief’s daughter […] is often the first to befriend Mighty Whitey during his visit to the strange new land. She’ll conveniently be beautiful by Western standards, but with just enough racial traits to be exotic.” (x)“She is the first cat to realize that Stormfur is the cat from the prophecy, and confronts him. Although scolded by Crag Where Eagles Nest, she welcomes the cats if they are not there maliciously.” “This disappoints Stormfur a little bit, since he likes the she-cat’s courage and friendliness. Brook shows up just as the Clan cats are getting ready to sleep for the night. She was sent by Stoneteller to make sure that the cats were comfortable, but Stormfur wonders if it was just him that she was sent to help.” (x)While this seems fine at first, if you just consider it a normal romance, it becomes more uncomfortable to think about. “More often than not, she will fall in love accidentally with the White Man who likes her as well and wants to marry her. Often this can be seen as a litmus test to see whether the white man is worthy of being part of their tribe.” (x)“Rock says that Brook had begun to love Stormfur while she was teaching him the ways of the Tribe. Although cats like her brother, Talon, didn’t care for Stormfur at first, they soon changed their mind because of the love Brook had for Stormfur.” (x)This trope, of a white man coming in and a Native American girl falling for him has been done over and over again, with one of the biggest examples being to Pocahontas. Even looking at the plot for both of these movies, similarities become clear. A young Native American woman, related to either the chief or the future chief, falls for a foreign man while teaching him the ways of her people. Following the conflict, she ends up traveling far from her home to stay in a culture foreign to her, learning their ways. In Pocahontas, there are two different men she falls for. In warriors, Brook leaves the tribe to stay with Stormfur, having become his mate after he elected to stay. Deciding to stay in the tribe, by the way, is almost the epitome of the Going Native trope.“The Going Native trope plays to this fantasy by having a character lifted out of his typical environment and thrust into a new one, only to become a part of that new world. […] As soon as they feel quite comfortable, possibly having fallen in love with a local girl and/or learned big lessons from a mentor figure, count on their old life to come messing with them.“ (x)“As the Clans leave once they have had enough food to eat, Stormfur decides to stay with Brook and the Tribe. Stormfur chooses to stay with the Tribe, with Brook and Feathertail’s spirit. The Clans thank the Tribe and leave.“ (x)The theme of clan cats being more connected to the tribe than the tribe themselves continues with Jayfeather, with him going back to the past using his power as Jay’s Wing. Jay’s Wing urges the group that would become the Tribe of Rushing Water to go to the territory that they’re shown in modernly. (x)The tribe is allowed nothing for themselves. Not history nor their own heroes or successes in the books. Their naming traditions, which are cringeworthy and borderline racist in the books themselves both for normal cats in the tribe and the practice of completely changing the Healer’s name, are mocked by Rock“Rock notes that he finds this method strange, as he perceives that this way of naming kits would cause many kits to be named things like ‘Wall of Cave,’ or ‘Floor of Cave.’” (x) and their first Stoneteller was involved heavily with Starclan (Which, along with the things do with Jay’s Wing, are remarkably similar to the Magical Native American trope in its bare bones), despite the fact that Healers aren’t given the same nine lives as the clan cats. While much of this is likely due to bad writing, it doesn’t excuse the implications that come with what they’ve written. It’s poor writing and an absolute shitshow of racism, with trope after trope being just stacked on top of each other in hopes of making a good story. It doesn’t work and it just shows a lack of care and respect for cultures other than their own. Don’t come onto my post and whine about it being celtic or some shit.

[thelioninmybed]

Imrael and Khazri meeting each other's parents. OR ALTERNATIVELY their parents meeting each other.

I started this, Anon, only to find out I’d ALREADY started it like, three years ago. That was clever of me (and leaves me even less excuse for this taking so damn long, sorry!) 

The Lady Keira Arroway, protector of Dawnwood, famed beauty and socialite, tossed her flame red hair, picked her nose and wiped it under the taproom table. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” she said.

Although it would have been polite to wash and change his clothes before meeting with nobility, and very pleasant to sleep twelve hours or more, Imrael had gone straight from Ferris’ front gates to the nameless tavern that was Keira’s second home. His own, after the library, and his clinic before he’d set off questing.  “Don’t be a dick, Keira. Talk to your father.”

She offered him an elegant shrug. “What do you think he’s going to do about it?”

“Send a weatherworker to clear the roads? I don’t know, it’s not my village. You asked me to report and that’s what I’ve done - at great personal risk no less - and the least he can do is-”

“Alright, alright, don’t shout.”

Imrael hadn’t realised that’s what he’d been doing until she said so. “It’s been a long few months,” he said at a carefully normal volume.

“Another drink?”

“Yes,” Imrael said, with feeling.

“I didn’t think anything would come of it,” Keira said, once she’d flagged down the waitress and procured two flagons of mediocre ale. “I just wanted to show the old man I was taking things seriously. He isn’t going to like this.”

“Probably not. You can tell him we killed a god on his account if that will sweeten the pot.”

“You’re a fucking liar, Rae,” she said, with a grin that crinkled up her nose and made her green eyes sparkle.

“I have not lied to you once in my entire life,” said Imrael solemnly, unaccountably relieved to feel their old, easy camaraderie returning. Two loutish students again, with no greater responsibilities than turning in their next assignments and not drinking away their stipends.

“Interesting phrasing there. Anyway, leave it in my hands. I’ll talk to Papa, sort the peasants, none of that’s important. The real question is, did it work?”

“It is important, people are dy-”

“Imrael. My friend. Don’t take this as me believing you about the god, but I can see you’ve been through something because I don’t know why else you’d be wearing that hat. I’m sure it was all very traumatic but now it’s time to get drunk and never think about any of it ever again. So. Did you, or did you not seduce that adorable goblin you’ve been pining over? All that sharing bed linens, huddling for warmth, tenderly chafing cold hands-”

“He almost died of hypothermia.”

“So you saw his cock? Why’re you being so coy? Are you- oh.” Her eyes narrowed. ”You are in love with him.”

“Keira-”

“And he doesn’t even try to deny it,” she crowed to the room at large. “Smitten! I never thought I’d see the day. Where is he? Are you finally going to introduce us properly?”

“So,” said Khazri. “What did she say?”

“Not much.” Imrael went to blow on his fingers, already numbing, and then reconsidered and intertwined them with Khazri’s gloved hand. There was a moment of awkward limpness and then he squeezed back. “She said she’d do something, just like she says she’ll pay you back when she borrows money. I’ll go annoy her tomorrow. Maybe you could come too?”

“Do you want me to threaten her?”

“No! Gods no. Keira’s heart’s in the right place, she’s just-” Imrael waved his free hand vaguely. “Rich. You should meet her because she’s my friend.” It would take some careful management and probably some more bribery to ensure she never mentioned why he and Khazri had been sent off on that ‘quest’ in the first place, but Imrael was up to it.

“I’m better at threats,” Khazri said, and Imrael could read him well enough to catch the fear that the humour overlaid and gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

“You’re wonderful at threats. Time to practice having a drink with an old friend instead. Say midday? Back here?”

“I’m not going to disappear. Again.”

“Shh. I know. Where do you usually stay when you’re in the city? I never asked.”

Khazri got that shifty look that meant he wasn’t going to answer because he knew Imrael wouldn’t like it. “Are you going back to your rooms?”

“Nah. My parents haven’t seen me in two seasons. Also their house is warmer, the sheets are cleaner and they’re obliged to feed us. Yes, I did say ‘us’ before you willfully misinterpret. You’re going to have a proper meal and sleep in a bed and not a hayloft - was it a hayloft? I knew it.”

Khazri scuffed his boot through the slushy ice in the gutter. “I don’t get on well with parents. Historically.”

“Was that a joke?” If it was, it was only in part and Imrael squeezed Khazri’s hand. “Don’t worry. You’re a significant improvement on the last partner I brought home.”

“How?”

“I’d rather not get into Eshe.”

“Oh.” And that, if nothing else, was a reason to love Khazri; he didn’t ask awkward questions.

“You can borrow some of my clothes, or my sister’s - she won’t mind and she’s closer to your height.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to do any of this.”

“But you want me to.”

“Yes.” Fumbling sex - or not so fumbling, Khazri was a very quick learner - and life-threatening drama was one thing. Friends and parents and quiet conversations, all the trappings of a life together were quite another.

“How do they feel about dogs?”

Penneth and Aruna Sovelin were good parents to a fault. As a teenager Imrael had rather wished they weren’t, and had bought home a succession of increasingly unsuitable partners, culminating in Eshe, whom they really should have taken him to task over. They hadn’t though, any more than they did when he appeared with no warning, a ragged goblin and two timber wolves upon their doorstep.

“Is there anything your friend can’t eat?” his father asked, rolling flatbread at the kitchen table, floured to the elbows.

Imrael glanced to Khazri, more from politeness than anything else. Khazi would eat bark and insects in a pinch, and the idea he’d refuse a meal of any kind was ridiculous. Unless he’d gotten it into his head that people were trying to poison him, which did happen. The conviction, not the poisoning. To the best of Imrael’s knowledge, anyway.

“I can eat,” Khazri said.

“I’m afraid we don’t have any meat for your- dogs.” To his father’s credit, he hardly stumbled.

Khazri tilted his head. Beryl’s ears flicked forwards. Jeff whined. “They don’t mind,” Khazri concluded.

“They found a dead aurochs in a snowdrift yesterday,” Imrael said reassuringly. “It was hardly rotten.”

“Oh good! I’d pet them if I weren’t baking.” Although Imrael had his mother’s height and lanky frame, there was no doubt as to where he got his temperament. ”Your mother’s finishing in the shop. Would you tell her two minutes? And please charm your clothes, dear, you’d think you’d been rolling in dead aurochs.”

“Dead aurochs is a generous assessment,” said his mother, sticking her head around the door. “What happened to you?” She cast the charms to cast off the grime herself, which was a relief; he hadn’t the will to do it himself, or do much more than flop into a chair and start shovelling lentil soup into his mouth. Half the seasoning was enchantment, his father doing what he could to compensate for ingredients too dear or foreign to get hold of here in Ferris, but so had it been throughout his childhood and the way the flavours slid, translucent, off his tongue was comforting in itself.

Like dark hair and sharp noses, curiosity ran in the family. Curiosity that, thankfully, Imrael could keep on himself as he related the story of their adventures. Not the version he’d told Keira, in which all dangers were exaggerated along with his heroism, and with more of a focus on gratefully healed peasants than ancient, murderous evils, but close enough, and that took them most of the way through supper. Khazri was quiet as ever but Imrael thought it came across as modesty and sincere appreciation for his father’s cooking; accepting a third helping was a sure way to his father’s heart, and Khazri ate like he hadn’t had a decent meal in a month (which he hadn’t; another detail Imrael glossed over).

“It’s very brave,” Imrael’s mother said when he’d stopped talking about their adventures long enough for her to say it. “Both of you. I didn’t know there even were male mercenaries.” In the same ‘I’m trying’ voice she’d used when he’d wanted to keep a jarful of snails as a pet or go to university.

“I know I’d be terrified,” Imrael’s father agreed, widening shadowed eyes. People didn’t go to elven apothecaries just for medicines and fetishes, although Imrael’s father’s were very good (and Imrael was both too old to make fetish jokes and not too old to be rapped with a wooden spoon). People came for the experience and that meant feyness and an awful lot of glitter.

“I’m not,” said Khazri. “Not really. Not a mercenary, I mean, not not terrified.”

“We’re very proud of Imrael for what he’s doing,” his mother went on doggedly. She didn’t chatter like his father did, flitting from point to point; once she’d decided she had something to say, she said it. “I hated it at first - some part of me still does - but this isn’t Faerie. We can’t make puppets of our children. Can’t seal them up in mirrors if they defy us.”

“They sent me to my room often enough, though,” Imrael interjected lest they forget their own monstrosity. And also because Khazri likely didn’t want to hear more of the old punishments listed. ‘Fed to spiders’ wasn’t even on the list of joking threats his parents had once made when he wouldn’t go to bed, but better to take no chances.

“We’re glad he’s not alone. We thought that woman of his would take responsibility but she never has,” his mother said and Imrael wanted to cringe because it was such a parent thing to say, so caring and so clueless, and so not a thing to joke about with Khazri later. There were downsides to a boyfriend who never asked questions and had a reptile’s understanding of parental interest.

“Pff, Keira can’t take responsibility for her own life,” he said carelessly. “She can’t even take responsibility for her bar tab.” ‘She’s just a friend’ wasn’t an argument worth having, Imrael had learnt.

“Or the last one,” his father put in.

“Eshe paid her tab, though I’ll concede she didn’t have her life together.”

“Or at all.” His mother sniffed. “Liches”

“She wasn’t dead when I met her,” he said hastily, lest Khazri get the wrong idea.

“We have clever children,” said his father, fond and weary. “But there’s not an ounce of sense between them.

Khazri swallowed. “Is Belain still. At Court?” He didn’t ask questions but he listened, and he’d been watching them all gossip as raptly as he’d ever watched a game trail. Imrael though he knew why but wasn’t about to embarrass him by pointing it out.

Imrael’s mother pursed her lips. “She likes it better. Everything we did to leave it and she rushes straight back. No sense at all, but then it’s easier for girls. Not a place to raise a son.” It was a conversation his parents had had often enough, to him and about him when they thought he and Belain long abed.

“Will you both be staying the night?” said his father, gathering up the plates.

“Yes, we will. Thanks, Papa.”

“Help me clear the table.” All the fuss to get away, all the insistence on being modern, but his father and Imrael were the ones who’d cooked and done the dishes for as long as he could remember. Sometimes his mother helped and but today she stayed at the head of the table and nodded to Khazri, who had risen, to do likewise.

“You’ll look after him?” she said stiffly, as Imrael ducked into the kitchen.

And, almost lost under the clatter of dishes; “Yes.”

”A lich?”

“Shh. I’m asleep.” Imrael’s bedroom was mostly storage now, and stank of drying herbs. Eyes gleamed lambent in the dark of it, and something huge and predatory panted. More worryingly, the bed wasn’t made for two, never mind two and an adult timberwolf, but they’d dealt with worse.

“I wasn’t- I don’t- My aunt’s dead. Only not.”

“That’s not at all comforting. Not even slightly. And it’s really unfair how you’ve cornered the market on weird family shit. I can’t even date a lich without you topping it.”

“I thought she wasn’t dead until after-”

“She wasn’t! Shush or I won’t invite you back.” Imrael rolled over - or attempted to. There wasn’t room and so he settled for wriggling pointedly.

There was a thoughtful pause. A flicker in the gleam of his eyes as Khazri blinked. “Your father’s a good cook,” he concluded.

In lots of ways it wasn’t a very satisfactory conclusion to come to, but in lots of ways it was.

[nomdeguerreblogs]

Some Thoughts About S4

Thanks to the anon who prompted this mini-thesis because. So. Many. Thoughts.

Tommy faces the morning sun and closes his eyes to regret and grief. Another series dawns…

Let’s start with the big question: ‘Is John Shelby Going to be Bumped Off?’ Short answer, I think so. I’ve vacillated a lot tbh, because being so spoiled it feels massively telegraphed, to the extent that it could be deliberate misdirection. Although that the evidence for it in the trailer is far from conclusive for people who casually watch the show is kind of proof in itself I think - there is still meant to be a question mark. But when you combine Esme weeping in (I’d bet on it because of her height and the necklace) Lizzie’s embrace; John and Esme’s absence at the family meeting; the Watery Lane bts shots without him joining the swagger; the wearing of black at that family meeting and elsewhere; that John and Esme haven’t had terribly much to do together since s1 and now are heavily featured; and Joe Cole not spending so much time on set it’s feeling ominous. Sure, it could still be smoke-and-mirrors. The tweeds of the promo pic suggest he goes country (the absence); and the black dress Esme’s in from that promo is the same as the one she’s wearing in a scene with John when he’s clearly very much alive. Her tears could be shock for his near-death (there are the scenes outside the hospital) or the untimely demise of one of their children. I don’t think the black is a ruse though, they all seem too united in anger at Tommy, and it’s not for our golden wrapper Harry Kirton at that point. The trailer heavily suggests that at least one of them will die, and wise money would be on John. At least it looks like there might be relatable grief this time.

About the family meeting, it is nice to see them in the gambling den again. I am terribly pleased Johnny Dogs and Charlie Strong are there too. But my favourite bit of the entire trailer is Finn’s Look™ at Tommy. They’ve come a long way since “that’s why you should never pretend to be me.” As if Finn ever had the choice to depart that shadow. I’ll miss Harry for whatever reason he’s leaving, he looks like a baby F. Scott Fitzgerald with that parting.

The Michael, Arthur and John scene with the policemen is likely a follow-up to s3. They are either being walked to the noose or a sentencing. They clearly all make it, past that point anyway.

Paul Anderson can break me with a twitch of his moustache and the dribble of a tear. Please never kill off Arthur, SK, I beg. Or Linda, I like her and that revolver was so cheering…

Michael and Ada don’t appear much in the trailer, but I think in combination with their ‘ranking’ in the s4 promo pic (and the comparative luxury of both’s outfits in said image), that’s because they’re still going to be the ‘legitimate’ side of the business - Chief Accountant and Head of Property and Acquisitions. Here’s hoping they share a plot, it could be enormous fun.

Polly facing the gallows must be her follow-on scene from the cliffhanger; she has the same hairstyle and blouse as 3.06. She clearly survives to do other things, which is great because SK needs her for balance. She’s the heart of the family, after all. The scene of her dressed in a fabulous floral kimono-type thing, taking a moment, is overlaid briefly by the zoetrope of the Edwardian (Victorian?) woman, perhaps representing something she once aspired to be, spinning round and around and it seems Polly herself will be sent reeling this series. She has a couple of quite different hairstyles - is there an element of disguise? Also the holster.

Speaking of hair, Charlie has a Peaky cut lmao. Tommy’s mini me. Perhaps nits were a problem at Arrow House? Tommy continues to have Dodgy Taste™ in artworks.

Adrien Brody appears to be another threat from Northern Ireland by that accent. Knowing SK, he’ll be ‘establishment’ of some kind as well; Tommy is always working against ‘them above,’ being as bad in order to survive ergo badder by the series, and there’s no other character we know of yet that could fulfil that role. But hell, Brody could be dubiously linked to the US government and have a legacy accent. He seems to be reprising Sabini in a murky tunnel at one point.

Alfie isn’t looking any healthier, or happier. Is the beach where that machine gun enters the country? Bravo the Woody cameo!!! I am desperately keen for Tommy and Alfie to have a fight on wet sand it would be hilarious.

Speaking of the machine gun, I LOVE the styling of that shootout! First time Peaky’s felt like a Western since s1 and I am digging it deeply.

ALSO pumped about the boxing match which I’ve been looking forward to since that ticket surfaced (date: 12 February 1926, Golliath vs Gold). Jack Rowan’s character is a bit of dark horse, though I’m guessing he’s the ‘Gold’ of the ticket bc his opponent is a fair bit bigger - he’s victorious in the ring, as well as there with Aidan Gillen’s character who is still thankfully lovely despite the hair - what ARE they there for? Anyway, that’s a publicly demonstrative thing Tommy’s doing with the gunshot at the end of the fight - it’s a message surely. The massive Union Jack AND Saint George’s Cross on the wall feel significant, especially possibly in conjunction with an Irish villain.

The girl under the bridge… I’ll come down off the fence and say I think that’s Charlie Murphy. I’d bet on it. One of my favourite mutuals (who’s very good at these things) swears blind it’s Lizzie, but there’s something about the profile where the cheeks meet her mouth and that tiny bump in her nose. Her hair looks longer than Lizzie’s s4 bob too. It is better than comparing Gaite and Annabelle’s breasts. Anyway, we’ve found our love interest of the series. Jury’s out on whether she’ll be the only one or one of two or three; my anxiety about Lizzie is unabated and May’s in s4. It would be the first series since one to not give Tommy three ladies. *sigh* *crosses fingers* The scene itself calls a bit to Ada and Freddie in 1.01, who met in the tunnel to hide their relationship. We’ll see; whatever it is it’s more intimate than the ‘hands’ bit of the s2 promo or the drunk snogging of s3. I’m just not that interested any more. At least it doesn’t look like she’s a queen on Tommy’s ever-more-acquisitive series of bedpost notches.

That scene in the cell with Arthur? No idea. And the tunnel-walking with gun raised in the lighting that seems designed against intravenous drug use is also a mystery. Though it looks like Victoria Baths to me and there isn’t even a whiff of May so at least that bit of plot is probably not facing reprise.

Cautious optimism abounds for a series that looks to be bringing all those chickens home to roost. There was no emotion that wasn’t pain or fear and after s3 that is apt and deserved. Here’s to the bleak midwinter!

[jadehqknb]

Aomine works as a soldier for Japan's National Guard and their biggest challenge so far is the crime organization that's working with aliens that invaded the planet. Aomine's s/o was a genius scientist who was abducted by the organization and Aomine hasn't seen her since. Years later he found out the org has been utilizing her extensive knowledge to help in the evolution of aliens and humans alike so he has no choice but to stop her. He also found out that the s/o is actually a clone. (1)

The real s/o was killed, but the clone was injected with her memories so she knows Aomine. Angst, and you get to decide the ending. Sorry this is more sci-fi than supernatural but I still hope it’s acceptable. Thanks and good luck with your AU event! ^^ (2)

So anon, I really like this idea but my brain took me in a different direction so while the essence of your request is here, I changed up a few things. Also, warning for violence and death. I don’t want to say who or how because it will spoil it more than it already has so if the idea makes you squeamish, skip this one.

As the dust settles, Aomine blinks. That was one hell of an explosion. Turning, he smirks at Kagami. “You really know your shit when it comes to being explosive.”

“Was that your bad attempt at a pun? You’ve been hanging around Izuki too much,” grumbles Hyuuga, shifting the weight of his semi-automatic.

“Hey, I resemble that remark!”

“Will you all shut up! We need to focus!” snaps Riko. The words are barely out of her mouth before gun fire erupts. Struck in the shoulder, she hisses in pain but she fights through it loosing off her own shots towards the advancing enemy.

“We need to get to the central core,” shouts Aomine over the fray, “Tetsu, come on, let’s go!” The ace shooter and shadow bob and weave around the debris, rushing through corridor after corridor as their squad covers them.

“This way!” Kuroko indicates, ducking around a corner only to come face to face with one of the aliens. He skirts back, unable to raise his weapon in time but a splash of blue and not red signals his partner has saved his ass.

“I swear, Tetsu, I don’t know how you’ve survived the war this long, you’re a terrible shot even when you do manage to get your finger on the trigger.”

“Thanks, Aomine-kun,” Kuroko breathes, heart still racing at just how close he came to death.

The two blue haired males continue on their way, the sound of gun fire echoing behind them. They can only hope all will make it out of this alive. Finally, they spot the door they’ve been searching for and rush through it before Kuroko grabs his barricader and slides it into the handles. “It won’t give us a lot of time, but enough to get this done,” he comments. When Aomine doesn’t respond, he turns, eyes widening. In front of them, stand hundreds and hundreds of pods, all filled with bodies.

“Wha…what the hell is this?” Aomine chokes out.

As they get closer, both notice the figures are grotesque, some with extra limbs, some missing limbs. Some have two or three heads while others have none. But the most terrifying realization is that the pulsing resonance in the room are heart monitors. All of these…things…are alive.

“Dai-kun?”

A feminine voice startles both males and they raise their guns towards the sound. Normally a shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy, Aomine hesitates at hearing his first name. No, not just his first name, a name he hasn’t heard in years. There’s only two people in the entire world who call him that, or rather called him that since he knew them both to be dead. As his eyes fall on the woman moving towards him, he frowns; he doesn’t know her at all so how does she know him?

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” she whispers, heedless of the heavy hardware trained on her.

“Who the fuck are you?” Aomine can’t help asking. “And stay right where you are!”

Blinking away tears, she keeps moving, propelled towards the one person in the whole world she never thought she’d see again. “It’s me, Dai-kun, it’s ________.”

Aomine narrows his eyes, trigger finger twitching. “Don’t you dare say her name, you bitch!”

She flinches, then smiles warmly. “Of course, I forgot, I’m….I look different now,” she comments, “but it’s really me. I know! I’ll prove it! Ask me something you know only _______ would know.”

Aomine can feel himself trembling. How long has it been since he heard her name? If he had his way, no one would think it let alone speak it aloud to him and here’s this bitch, their enemy, casually claiming to be the one person in the entire world he loved more than anything else; more than himself, more than basketball when he played it once upon a time.

Why hasn’t he shot her yet?

Kuroko opens his mouth to protest but Aomine is already speaking. “Where did we meet?”

“You were on the roof top at school. I’d just finished practice with the dance team and went to get some fresh air and found you. We talked and you asked for my number but I wouldn’t give it to you that easily.”

“What did I leave in your locker?”

She smiles, but it’s not _______’s smile, it’s the smile of a stranger. “A basketball with your number on it.”

Aomine wants to believe no matter how impossible it is, that this is true. That somehow, _______, the love of his life is within this unfamiliar shell. But these questions are too easy. He’d been warned, been threatened by the mafia who ran with these bastards that they’d get him. They knew he was a threat, that as an ace shooter on the Vorpal squad he’d be a menace to them and he has been. So it’s no wonder they’ve sent someone to-

“Aomine-kun.” Kuroko’s voice startles the taller male; he’d completely forgotten he was here. “We need to hurry.”

“Go on then, I’ll be right there,” Aomine replies.

“But-“

“Just go, Tetsu!” he snaps.

“Be careful, remember, they’re tricky.” Kuroko moves past the woman, her heedless of where he’s going and why. She knows she should care and a part of her is positively screaming to act, to kill them, to protect what she’s worked so hard to create but she can’t. Not now that he’s here.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she murmurs but at the look in his eyes she pauses again. “I can see you’re still not convinced, ok then, ask me something really, really personal. Something you know for sure no one else in the whole world would know except for _________.” It feels weird speaking about herself in the third person but if it’s what Dai-kun needs to move forward, to understand, to believe that’s it’s really her even if it’s a different body, then she’ll do it.

Aomine takes in a deep breath, his mind racing trying to think of something while at the same time berating him for even playing this game. No doubt this is a delay tactic, a way to make sure he doesn’t complete his mission but he’s missed her so much and he’s heard about this. Heard about people running into strangers who claimed to know them, claimed to be someone they weren’t, but it always ended up the same way; with someone or something dead.

Swallowing, Aomine looks her in the eye. “What did I say to you after the first time we had sex?”

She sniggers, the sound foreign in his ears. “Oh Dai-kun, of course your mind would go there,” she chides. Settling herself, she returns the intensity of his stare. “You told me that I beat you and it was the closest thing to a confession of love I’d ever get.”

Pain slams through Aomine’s chest at the remembrance, at the feel of her beneath him that first time, of her scent surrounding him, her lips on his, his hands on her. He’d forgotten, forgotten all of that until now, the memories too painful to allow to the surface so he pushed and pushed and pushed until he tread upon them, until they no longer haunted his dreams. How could this…. thing know so much about him and his ________?

“How?” One word filled with so much.

“I…when I was taken, they tried to make me work for them. Torture, you don’t know the meaning of the word but I wouldn’t give in. They broke my body trying to weaken my mind but I wouldn’t give up. I…I wouldn’t betray my own kind.” Her voice quivers and he has to stop himself from drawing her in. He can’t, this can’t be real!

“So,” she goes on, tears spilling on the ground, “eventually they decided if I wouldn’t comply in my own body, they’d put my mind somewhere more controllable.” Aomine’s gut clenches, whatever food he’d managed to shove in his mouth today wanting to erupt back out of it. “They removed my brain and fused it with one of their kind. That was three years ago and I’ve…well, you can see.” When her arm extends behind her, Aomine clenches his fist.

“You made those?! Why, what purpose could they possibly serve?” he roars. “My _______, would never….could never do that!”

His weapon clatters to the ground, hands fastening around her throat. Wide terrified eyes stare into his. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to her to get the information you did or the purpose of doing it, but one thing I do know is you are going to die. If she’s still alive, I’ll find her, but I doubt that.”

She chokes out, “Dai-kun….I….I’m right here. Stop…please…”

“No more lies!” he bellows, squeezing harder, feeling her pulse thunder against his fingers. A garbled noise of pain leaves her lips which are rapidly turning blue, her nails scratching and clawing at his skin but he’s relentless, eyes full of rage and hate and death. Because he’s fully dead inside now. He’d always hoped maybe he’d find her one day but that hope is gone. He knows she’s dead.

Just like the woman who’s now on her knees, eyes rolled in the back of her head. When he releases, her body crumples to the ground in a heap.

“Aomine-kun, we-“ Kuroko stops short, eyes wide at the sight of his ace standing over the very dead body of the woman he’d seen before.

When Aomine lifts his head, Kuroko almost shrinks back. There’s no more light, no more life, just empty vacant pools. “Let’s go, Tetsu,” he says lowly, stepping into the corridor and shutting the door. They begin running again, Kuroko pressing a button on a remote once they’re clear and another explosion rocks the foundations of the compound.  

[yeehawbisexualold]

I, Emma Take Thee Killian

An EF AU very loosly based off the infamous “I, Ross take thee Rachel” scene, inspired by @sailorkillian and the anon who sent her this ask.

also tagging, @colinoslayme, @blowmiakisscolin, and @kmomof4

4.6k words ~ also on ao3

The Charming family has finally defeated the Evil Queen. After years of torment and suffering, they’ve vanquished her for good—banished her to a far off land, that she’ll be unable to return from. All it took was the help of Rumpelstiltskin. The man who had previously been unwilling to aid them against Regina had finally found something worth his interest or, to be precise, his son’s interest.

Emma met Neal when she was 17.

She had been preparing to take her horse out for a ride when she saw movement in her peripheral vision, a blur running through the forest. Grabbing a sword, she headed after whatever she had spotted to discover a young man hiding in the trees.

He told her his name was Neal and that he was hiding from his father. He didn’t ask her for help but she had been raised by, whom she is sure to be, the most compassionate rulers to ever live and she had learned to spot a soul in need. So she offered him food, promised to keep his secret, and began to spend time with him.

After weeks of meeting in the forest near her home, he told her more about himself. That his real name was Baelfire and his father The Dark One. That he spent hundreds of years in Neverland after his father essentially abandoned him through a portal. That he’d spent some time after that aging in a land without magic until, only near a fortnight before she found him, he’d returned to this realm.

She felt for him, having been abandoned by both of his parents. She couldn’t imagine the pain one must feel to grow up like that—alone, unloved, and lacking guidance. Her parents had always been the most loving and supportive a girl could ask for but she knew there was a time when that almost didn’t happen.

When she was 10 and Regina was in a particularly vindictive mood—wreaking her special form of havoc—her parents told her about the dark curse that she had intended to cast and how Emma was nearly separated from them at birth. Luckily for them, the curse failed and aside from some minor Regina induced hiccups, they had been together and happy ever since.

She was content with her life as the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. But aside from the perpetual threat of the Evil Queen looming over them, her days lacked excitement. Her parents rarely allowed her to travel along with them on diplomatic missions, for fear of Regina’s henchmen attacking. The only action she participated in was sparring with her trainers and her father and the occasional tracking, simply for fun, with her mother. Sneaking out of the castle was nothing new to Emma.

No, the thrill of that had long ago worn off. Sneaking out to meet a man though, and not just any man but the son of The Dark One, was exhilarating. She was young and naive; he was handsome and so very charming. Being with him was electrifying.

They spent a lot of time together, hiding amongst the trees. He would regale her with tales of different times and far off lands, of ogre wars and boys that never aged. Although he always tried to put a light spin on his past, she could feel the bitterness hidden behind his captivating words.

Looking back on it, it was the pain that really endeared her to him. And it was the pain that drove them apart.

Things went south when he began to suspect his father knew of his whereabouts. He asked Emma to help him procure an item from the castle that he could use in trade of a magic bean. He claimed to know a person from his childhood that would be willing to give up anything for a vial of squid ink.

He begged her to help him so they could run away together—find happiness in another land, far out of reach of his father.

It might have been tempting, the promise of adventure and freedom if it didn’t mean giving up her family. The thought of leaving behind her parents and kingdom—people who loved and supported her, people she had a duty to protect and serve—was unimaginable and the thought of betraying them even worse.

Neal didn’t understand her resistance, only associating parents with heartache and betrayal, he couldn’t understand the loyalty she felt. Because he couldn’t understand her reasoning, couldn’t understand her, their relationship ended in a blowout of epic proportions leaving her with a bruised heart and a distrustful mind.

Time moved on and she put the past and their romance behind her. She grew older and gained insight on their relationship that could only come with age. She realized how much older he had been than her and how wrong that had been at such a juvenile stage of her life. She came to see just how unfair, how irreverent he had been to ask what he did of her, knowing he was the first man she had ever been with and how easily susceptible she was to the lure of the unknown.

She moved on and she managed to keep him from her mind for years. Once her heart was sufficiently mended and her walls built high, she allowed herself zero thoughts of the man.

Until he reconciled with his father.

Everyone in the Enchanted Forrest heard the news of the harmony that had been reached between Rumpelstiltskin and his estranged son. Her mother and father, none the wiser to the liaison that occurred between Neal and herself, celebrated. Being sympathetic people and knowing it could have been them who lost a great deal of time with their child, they were happy for the father and son.

That was until Rumpelstiltskin called upon them, requesting a favor and offering to ensure the safety of their kingdom, a liberation they had been seeking since a time before she was conceived. He promised to aid them with one simple thing in return, that Emma marry his son.

Her parents repudiated the proposition, not wanting to force their daughter into what they imagined to be a loveless marriage. They were Snow White and Prince Charming, their true love the stuff of legends. Who were they to deny their daughter the freedom of obtaining a spectacular love of her own?

Emma was utterly grateful for her them in that moment, regarding them in the highest esteem for their selflessness and bravery. She loved them and admired them and she wanted to be like them. And that was why, knowing how long they’d fought and how weary they must have grown trying to keep their kingdom safe, never fully at peace, she accepted the offer.

The reptilian man had been giddy, promising to get the affair in order as soon as possible and then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

That was what lead her to where she is today, walking down the aisle on her father’s arm, to a man she does not love, a man she no longer even particularly likes. But with the comfort of knowing that her kingdom is safe and no longer under the thumb of the threat of Regina.

Neal smiles at her softly, eyes glittering brightly in a way that used to fill her stomach with butterflies but now makes it churn with dread.

When her father kisses her hand and puts it in Neal’s she feels tears well in her eyes (and oh, they’re not the tears she expected on her wedding day) but she grits her teeth and wills them away, refusing to let the emotions overcome her for fear that she’ll never recover. Her lips quiver and she sets them firmly in what she hopes passes for a grin.

She feels her resolve settle in place as the officiant begins speaking and she’s sure she’ll get through this. She nods along to the words and smiles in the appropriate places and she’s almost there.

But then he slips through the doors at the end of the hall and walks calmly to the back of the seats. That mad, mad fool. She could just throttle him. How willfully ignorant he must be to walk into the wedding of the son of the man who will rip out his heart and gleefully crush it on sight.

She wants to kill him herself for the lack of regard he shows for his own life.

“I’m a survivor, love,” he’d once told her, a resplendent smile on his face. Well, buddy, you’re doing a piss-poor job of showing it.

She tries to put her focus back into the ceremony taking place, to keep the attention of the crowd off the asinine pirate that just arrived. She attempts to concentrate if not on Neal, then the officiant. She really does try.

But her mind has been spun into a whorl, rivaling the vortex of a portal upon water, and all she can think about his him. Unbidden, their past and what could have been their future flashes before her eyes.

The day they met, not even a year to the date, she was reading peacefully in the castle’s private library when suddenly a figure came tumbling, none too elegantly, through one of the arched, stained glass windows. She was alone and unarmed, in a tower far from any hearing ears.

As she prepared to run, he righted himself and—expecting an immediate threat, likely with the hook attached to his arm—surprised her by simply taking a step back, brushing his dark hair out of his vision, and muttering “Bloody, hell,” eyes wide and brows nearly in his hairline.

“Whatever you want,” she said haughtily, lifting her shoulders and tilting her chin up, “I’m sure could be achieved without breaking through the window.”

“Ah,” he’d sighed, scratching behind his ear in a way entirely too endearing for a pirate who had just forced his way into the walls of the royal family. “That might work if I were a man of your lands and better yet if I weren’t the captain of a notorious pirate ship.”

“Have you been accused of piratery by our kingdom before?”

He paused, narrowing his, unfortunately, (for her) startling blue eyes and rubbing his stubbled chin.

“No, actually.” “Well then, if you had only been more familiar with the laws of my kingdom,” she scolded with crossed arms and if he hadn’t come to the realization of who she was before, he had at that point “you would have known that we harbor no ill will towards pirates who have not… conducted their business in this land.”

He smirked slowly eyeing her up in down in a way entirely to indecent for anyone regarding the crown princess of Misthaven and drew her attention to the fact that the way her arms crossed put her chest on full display for his lascivious gaze. She pulled her arms down instead, putting her hands in a stern position on her hips.

“I see. I guess I’ll be on my way out the window and trying my luck through the front doors. That is if you’d be so kind as to let this indiscretion slide.”

She shouldn’t have, let it slide that is, but it was immensely refreshing to be spoken to with a lack of utmost respect. No one dared to address her without an abundance of reverence and it grew tiresome to be treated as an object held high up on a pedestal, out of reach of anyone below.

So she let him go on his way with the assumption that he would either get what he wanted or not but would most certainly leave, never to be seen again. How wrong she had been. And how grateful she was to have been wrong.

Her parents agreed to give him the squid ink he requested but not without something in return. She had thought her parents foolish to give him his half before securing theirs but they showed to her to never doubt their excellent judge of character. Apparently, there truly is honor among thieves, at least this particular thief, because he remained in their employ, given free reign of travel as long as he obtained something for them in return, after receiving the object of his desire.

Being in their employ lead to him being around her. Being around her lead to lead to him charming her. And charming her lead to him bedding her.

All of this done despite her attempts to keep him from doing just that. He had simply just been too much for her to keep at bay. Too handsome, too smart, too charismatic, too amusing, too passionate. The list goes on and on with too many too’s. The pirate captivated her with his sinfully good looks and piercing blue eyes, he enchanted her with his wit and spirit.

The first night he’d slipped into her room—as she laid beneath the covers staring up at her ceiling and imagining she was gazing upon the stars in the sky, from aboard the deck of The Jolly Roger—she’d been utterly helpless to do anything but draw him into her bed, strip him bare, and ride him into oblivion.

After that first, wild night of unbridled passion, they began an illicit love affair that started out as simple lust and mind-numbing pleasure but soon turned into feelings stronger than anything she’d ever felt before.

They spent as many nights as they could together. Some nights he would sneak through the window of her room and they’d roll around in her bed for hours on end. Other nights she would slip out of the castle to the Jolly where they spent more time on the deck than in his cabin, laying on the cool wood as he pointed out his favorite constellations and entertained her with the legends behind him. 

He told her that the set of stars that aligned to create the Cygnus were his favorite. He said it was the most magnificent thing he’d ever seen, that was until he met her. On nights when he was in a deeply amorous mood, he would call her his swan, tell her that there must have been a marvelous constellation that disappeared from the sky on the night of her birth because she was made up of the most brilliant stars.

She planned on hiding it from her parents, knowing her father would threaten him bodily harm and that her mother would actually follow through on it. She was fine keeping it a secret, preferring a love that she could have in the dark of night than one to mourn. She thought she would never tell another soul until, after a particularly gratifying session of face riding on the deck of his ship, he’d turned to her with metaphorical and literal stars in his eyes and said the three little words that brought her walls crashing down to be left in ruins at her feet.

The oddest thing, odder than the princess and her steadfast resistance of any emotional ties dallying with the 300 year old, vengeance bound pirate, was that she believed him. She felt his love in the air around them and with the glow of his eyes and the press of his warm skin against hers.

She couldn’t recall ever feeling so blissfully happy, so content, anywhere with any other person. She vowed to tell her parents after that. Damn the consequences. If they wanted him, they’d have to go through her first because she wasn’t giving him up.

She waited for the perfect moment to tell them but before it arrived, Rumpelstiltskin did, and she made the promise to protect her kingdom at the sake of her own heart.

She knew of his history with the crocodile and the love he’d lost to the imp before. She knew how long he’d fought to avenge his Milah. But she was still surprised by the force of his anger, never having seen anything so strong until she found him in his cabin and told him what she agreed to do. It was equally startling and arousing the way his eyes flamed and his lips curled. She chuckled bitterly against the sour taste of bile rising in her throat when she realized he was the man Neal had spoke of so long ago, the man who was willing to trade a magic bean for squid’s ink, thinking if only she’d met hims sooner.

The argument they’d had was so intense she was amazed they didn’t sink the ship with the force of it. It started off with shouting and throwing things, lasting so long her throat was raw for days, but eventually turned into something much worse, him begging.

She couldn’t bare the pain and fear in his eyes. She couldn’t listen to the way he pleaded with her, that he couldn’t lose her, couldn’t stand for her to live a life of misery under the control of The Dark One and with the man who had betrayed and hurt her before. When he dropped to his knees before her, she lost her resolve and took him to bed.

The love they’d made that night was just that, love, pure and abundant. She laid with him afterward, tucked against his chest and breathing him in, filling her lungs with his scent and her heart with the feel of him. She watched him as he fell asleep quickly. It had always been easy for him to pass into the realm of dreams (something she envied) and that night he had been beyond exhausted, emotionally and physically. She stayed a little longer after his eyes fluttered shut and stayed closed, needing every moment she could take to imprint him and what she felt with him into her very soul.

She couldn’t allow herself to stay long though and careful not to wake him, she detached herself from his embrace to write him a note. She folded it, pressed a kiss against the paper, and then left, not letting herself look back at his sleeping form for fear that she wouldn’t be able to leave.

He’d followed her wishes, or so she thought, to let her go and not seek her out. Yet here he is, in the middle of the damn wedding, sitting casually at the back of the room.

How dare he? How dare he make it that much harder for her to vow her commitment to a man she didn’t want, a man so different from him?

Indignant, she turns her eyes back to the man speaking to the room and before she knows it, Neal is speaking “I, Baelfire take thee Emma to be my wedded wife” and slipping a lavish gold ring on her finger.

The officiant begins speaking to her and she knows what she has to say.

“I, Emma take thee Killian—” and dear god, no, that was not what she was supposed to say. She feels her stomach drop and her limbs turn cold because how had she possibly said the wrong thing? But she knows how, or at least some part of her does, because she said it.

Chaos erupts in the great hall, voices blending together, growing louder by the second. She spots her parents, sitting wide eyed and mouths open, looking aghast. Rumple appears suddenly before her, holding her by the arms and shaking her so forcefully she thinks for sure her head will snap off, demanding “Why did you speak that name? How do you know it?” He searches frantically about the room but doesn’t seem to spot Killian standing halfway down the aisle.

She feels dizzy and ill and thinks she could possibly pass out until Neal steps between her and his father, stopping him from harming her any further.

“I need to speak with Emma alone, papa,” he pleads softly and Rumple’s wild eyes begin to calm.

“The wedding is over. You may all leave,” the manic man announces before disappearing from the room.

Neal grabs her gently by the arm, steering her out of the room. She see’s her mother holding her father back from following. Once alone, he begins running his palms up and down her bare skin and she comprehends that she’s shaking.

“Stop, now,” he commands calmly. “The Emma I know wouldn’t be shaking like this.” “The Emma you know was a 17-year-old girl. You don’t know the Emma I am,” she snaps, hating to be ordered to do anything by anyone other than her parents, least of all this man. But, probably not in the way he hopes, it works. Her anger flares and her limbs settle.

“That’s true. Apparently, I know you even less than I thought because the version of you I know would sooner slit her wrists than take up with a pirate.”

His words don’t sound harsh, just resigned. He knew whom the name she spoke belonged to.

“That is entirely your fault. You left before I grew old enough for you to know a mature me and when you returned you didn’t bother to try and know me again. You simply had you father force me into marriage.” “Technically he didn’t force you,” he begins but stops in his tracks at her icy glare. “Alright. I knew you wouldn’t be able to turn down his offer. If I did learn one thing about you, it’s that you would do anything for your kingdom.”

“You forced my hand.”

“I did,” he concedes.

“How did you expect a marriage to work between us that was created this way?” “I don’t know, Emma… I didn’t think. I just knew that you were the only woman I ever loved and that I missed you. I regretted what happened between us the moment I left. I didn’t just return for my father, I returned for you. I didn’t even willingly tell my father about you. He sensed my dismay and used a truth potion to get it out of me. When he learned, he concocted the plan. He set it in motion.” “I was a child, Neal.” He winces. “You loved a child. And if what you say is true, that you still care about me, you wouldn’t have put me in this position before even trying to learn how I feel.”

He nods slowly and then glances helplessly around the room, running his hands over his head.

“I fucked up.”

“You did.”

“Do you love him?”

He doesn’t need to specify who he is asking about.

“I do.”

“And does he love you? Does he really love you?”

“He does.”

“If I really loved you like I said, I would let you be with him wouldn’t I?”

She doesn’t speak but he’s smart enough to obtain the answer on his own.

“I—I’m sorry, Emma.”

She softens, feeling something loosen in her chest that she hadn’t realized had been tight all these years because she understands that the apology isn’t just for the wedding.

“I’ll convince my father to let it go and not to harm him. Gods, it will be difficult but I’ll do it.”

She’s tempted to tell him that she doesn’t care how difficult it will be for him but she holds her tongue.

“Thank you,” she sighs and presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek before leaving in search of Killian, hearing Neal call for his father to magic him away.

She finds him leaning against the wall outside the room she and Neal had been talking in and he opens his mouth to say something, but she doesn’t find out what because before he can, she launches herself at him, latching her lips onto his.

He kisses her back greedily, nothing but wetness and battling tongues and clashing of teeth. His hands roam all over her, unable to pick one place to settle. After a while, the kiss slows and eventually he pulls back to gaze at her in wonderment.

“You recognized me,” he says pupils blown wide and a breathtaking grin on his face.

“Of course I did. It’s only been a few days.”

“No you don’t understand,” he explains running his hands up and down her arms and the sensation is so different from the way Neal had been doing it only moments before. “I’m wearing a protective charm that hides my appearance.”

“From everyone?” she asks, puzzled as to how she sees him as him.

“Yes, it changes the appearance to everyone… except those the wearer shares true love with.”

She comprehends now, his excitement and awe at her recognizing him.

“Oh,” she says simply.

He kisses her again, joyously. Then he moves his mouth all over her face, peppering it with kisses only interrupted by his repeated words of “I love you.”

She’s dizzy again, not for the first time today but the first time for a good reason. She stops the assault of his lips by grabbing his face between her hands. She looks him in the eyes and says, “I love you, too.”

“Well, clearly, love or you wouldn’t even know who I am right now. I’d just be some mad stranger attacking you with kisses.”

She’s overwhelmed with elation, having thought she would never experience his humor again and instead of commenting back she kisses him once more.

When they get their fill of each other—or at least enough to hold them off til they can speak with her parents—and break apart she remembers something she’d thought of when he first walked in on the wedding.

“Oh, thank the gods, you fool.” She smacks him on the chest with the hand not clutched in his own.

“What?”

“I’d thought you’d walked in with the risk of Rumpelstiltskin seeing you.”

“No, love, I hadn’t intended for anyone to see me,” he stops their walking and pulls his hand from hers to run it through her hair, reverently. “I just couldn’t bare to let you go without seeing for certain, with my own two eyes that you wouldn’t be mine.”

How could a pirate be so romantic?

“If you saw, would you have let me go?”

“No.”

“No?”

He shakes his head and gives her a rueful grin.

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets,” he intones.

“I’m what you want?”

“Aye.”

In the end, it takes a lot less convincing of her parents than she thought it would. They had just been so happy for their daughter to find true love they couldn’t be bothered much to care who with.

“Maybe you’ll grow on me,” her father mused, looking like that’s the last thing that would happen.

Their engagement is short (not as short and her one with Neal but that was hastened by Rumple) lasting only a couple months, and only that long so her mother can plan a wedding she deems appropriate.

By the time her father walks her down the aisle, again, her pirate has grown on him.

It’s the strangest feeling, doing a wedding a second time but with entirely different circumstances. The feeling of dread and nausea she felt before, is replaced with excitement and elation. When her father goes to hand her off, she practically jumps out of his arms, to Killian.

She can feel the wild grin splitting her cheeks and the moisture welling in her eyes, good tears this time, wonderful tears, but like before she tries to keep them at bay. When she meets Killian’s eyes, he’s looking at her as if she hung the moon in the sky and he gives her a wink.

She feels incredibly impatient. The officiant can’t talk fast enough for her. She just wants the ceremony to be over so she can be married to her damn pirate already, so she can take him back to his ship.

When Killian slips a simple gold ring on her right hand, it feels so right to look into her true loves eyes and be able to rightfully say, “I, Emma take thee Killian.”

[musetotheworld]

do you write supercat au? a portrait of cat wins a famous and prestigious art prize and cat wants to meet the artist...

So, I changed it up a little, but hope you don’t mind too much anon!

“An entire page for the winner of an art contest, really James?” Cat gripes as she shuffles through the layouts he’d brought for her approval. “I know the arts are important, but an entire page sounds a little excessive.”

James doesn’t shrink back, too used to her criticisms to give in so easily when he wants something. It’s one of the benefits of hiring people who’d known her as more than Cat Grant Media Mogul, they know when to stand their ground and when to retreat. And apparently this is one of the times when he wants something enough to stand his ground.

“Normally I’d agree with you, Cat. And not just for the job security. But this artist is doing some great things that I think the world should see. It could give arts in schools a big push.” He’s so damn sincere that Cat just rolls her eyes and sticks a hand out for his proposal. She can at least give him a fair hearing after all.

But when she looks at the spread he’s suggesting, Cat’s breath catches in her throat in surprise. It’s a gorgeous shot of some fantastical landscape, with gleaming towers in strange shapes that draw the eye in. The level of detail is astonishing, the beauty breathtaking.

James knows better than to smirk when he sees her reaction, but she can tell the urge is there and shoots him a glare before scanning the accompanying article. It needs work, but for a rough draft proposal it isn’t bad.

Except… “There’s no picture of the artist, and no name. No details at all,” Cat points out, handing the article back to James as she lets the implied question linger.

“She’s very private,” he explains, and Cat tries to bite back a scoff. Private, but willing to put artwork like that out into the world? Still, Cat can respect that.

“We can make it about the art then. It’s doable. But one condition. I want to meet her.” Cat is prepared to buckle down and insist on that one, no matter what it takes. Something about that landscape…

“I’ll ask,” is all James will give her, and Cat knows that’s all she’ll get for now. Pushing can come later.

X

She gives it a week before cornering James again. The article had run, with great success, and now Cat wants her reward.

“She’s a little afraid of doing interviews,”James explains as he tells Cat she hasn’t agreed just yet. “Like I said, she’s a very private person.”

“Oh for god’s sake, it isn’t for an interview, Olsen.” Cat says in disgust, wondering how someone so talented had misunderstood so completely. “I like her art and want to meet her, I’m not suddenly going to expose the entirety of her private life to the sharks.”

“I’ll uh, I’ll pass that along.”

X

It takes a month for him to convince the artist to meet with her. A month of glares and threats that don’t seem to be very effective at all. And if it were anyone other than James, the follow through would have been severe.

But eventually he comes through, and Cat has a meeting scheduled for Friday night with the mysterious artists. She knows nothing about the woman, not even her name, but James insists that her questions will be answered as long as she shows up and can convince the woman that it really isn’t an interview.

That’s what finds her on a lonely stretch of coastal road Friday evening after work, driving herself as the artist had insisted she come alone. And Cat has to admit, the secrecy is alluring in its way. She feels like she’s being let in on some grand plan or truth, rather than meeting an extraordinary artist. It’s a thrill she hasn’t felt since her early journalism days, and Cat relishes it.

No one is there to greet her as she steps out of the car once she arrives, so Cat takes a moment to study her surroundings. The cottage is small but lovely, and the views are priceless. They even put the view of Cat’s beach house to shame, with stunning cliffs in the distance that Cat imagines an artist could spend hours painting. She could certainly spend time describing them, if she were in the mood to do so.

But tonight she’s in the mood to meet a woman who’d captured her interest without a single word, so with one last long look Cat turns from the view and walks to the front door. She isn’t expecting it to swing open before she can knock, but she’s expecting the gorgeous young woman on the other side even less.

She’s younger than Cat would have guessed from her talent, probably in her mid twenties, with long blonde hair pulled back into a loose tail and eyes that remind Cat of the ocean behind her. It takes Cat a long second to find her words as she takes the sight of the woman in, from her paint covered jeans to the tight shirt that’s surprisingly clear of stains. And oh what a sight it is.

“Miss Grant, James said you wanted to meet me,”she says, shifting from foot to foot as Cat stares.

“I did,” Cat says when she can finally think clearly again, putting a smile on her face and extending a hand. Time to be charming and hope the woman hadn’t noticed her blatant ogling. “The piece we profiled, and your work in general, was very captivating. I told him I wanted to meet the artist who could craft such amazing designs.”

“Well, why don’t you come in and we can discuss them, I suppose,” Kara says with a shy smile, waving her inside. “I’m Kara.”

Cat wants to ask for a last name, but she knows that pushing will only get her sent packing. For some reason Kara is intensely private about everything including her name, and Cat has to respect that. And someone who doesn’t even sign her paintings with a recognizable name isn’t likely to provide something as personal as a last name on first meeting, if ever.

Not that Cat blames her, a last name would almost certainly lead to a google search in a moment of weakness, and the last thing Kara deserves is some stranger digging through the internet in search of secrets she’d rather keep to herself. No, the investigative reporter still buried within Cat will have to keep quiet this time. This is a visit from Cat Grant, art aficionado.

“These are all lovely,” Cat says as she follows Kara into the sitting room, looking around at the various paintings decorating the wall. They cover a wide range of colors and scenery, but something about each tells Cat they’re all painted by the same hand. And even if the visit were to be cut short at this moment, Cat knows she should consider herself lucky to see such amazing work.

“They’re the ones I don’t think would sell, to be honest with you Miss Grant,” Kara says with a shy smile and shrug, and Cat gapes at her in amazement, her shock briefly overcoming her practiced mask of slightly aloof distance.

“First, it’s Cat. I’ll respect your privacy and not ask for your last name, but I won’t have us on different standings,” Cat says firmly but softening her usual bite. “Second, if you ever tire of looking at any of these, I will take them off your hands at whatever price you ask. They’re spectacular, Kara.”

“Is that why you’re here, Cat? To buy a canvas or two? Because James could have passed an order along without you needing to make the drive,” Kara says, seeming uncomfortable with the praise and scrutiny alike.

“No, it’s not why I was willing to make the drive,” Cat admits, realizing she’ll need to open up if she wants anything in return from Kara, especially if she doesn’t intend to push. “The painting we profiled, it, well, it captured my attention. The scene is so detailed that the mind behind it has to be something special.”

“So you threatened James Olsen’s job until he got you a meeting because you liked my painting?” Kara says in disbelief, and Cat fights to keep the wince from her face. It’s the truth, but she doesn’t often think of how her usual tactics come across to those who aren’t around her every day. She’d only threatened James because his standing is so secure nothing else would have an effect, not because she ever intended to follow through with it.

“His job was never in actual jeopardy,” Cat admits, almost despite herself. “But I suppose that’s an accurate summary of my actions.”

“I don’t understand you,” Kara murmurs softly as she studies Cat, her gaze seeming to see right through the older woman. “Your words to James are harsh and cold, but the way you look at my work, it’s soft. The way I look at it.”

Cat lets Kara look at her for whatever answers she can find, forcing herself not to shift away from the intense scrutiny. She’d wanted this meeting, she’d fought for it, and now she’s going to see it through. But when Kara doesn’t continue, Cat begins to question herself and her decision to come here.

“Do you want me to go, Kara?” Cat asks, deliberately keeping her voice level and calm. She doesn’t want to leave, not without something to show for the trip, but she can’t intrude on this woman’s life if she isn’t wanted. Even if Cat’s done it to others in the past, something about this young woman makes it impossible to even consider doing now.

“No, I’m just trying to figure you out,” Kara says, tilting her head but not looking away. And something about it pulls at Cat’s memory, bringing another encounter from years ago to mind, and with it the answers to questions she would never have thought to ask.

Because Cat remembers that tilt, remembers being stared at with such piercing blue eyes. They’d been in another face, another city, but she remembers them all the same. Superman had looked at her like this as he’d looked into what most would call her soul, trying to decide what kind of person she was. And at the time, Cat had been found lacking. She’d been cold and focused, cruel and distant, more concerned with getting ahead and getting over losing Adam than anything else. She’d been hurting too much for someone to find good in her.

Now she wonders what Kara sees, whether that’s changed at all. Cat is still cruel at times, still cold and distant, but now she has something and someone to love. She’s had her second chance to do things right, and space to regret her mistakes and wish she could fix them. She wonders if it will be enough.

And of course she can say none of this to Kara. She can’t explain herself, or promise to keep a secret she shouldn’t know. All Cat can do is wait for judgement and hope she isn’t found wanting.

“I have a painting I might be willing to sell you,” Kara says after a long silence, with the slightest softening of the tension in her frame as she does. And Cat relaxes along with her, relieved that somehow she’s passed the test this time around.

“I’d love to see it, if you think I’d like it,” Cat says quietly, letting Kara take the lead once more.

When the sheet over the canvas is swept away Cat can’t hold back her gasp, because this painting is even more beautiful than the ones in the living room, more detailed and exquisite than the one they’d featured in the magazine. This is a work of art in every sense of the word, and the fact that Kara is willing to sell it to her nearly moves Cat to tears, especially after the soul searching gaze from earlier.

“Name your price and I’ll pay it,” Cat breathes softly, not daring to look away from the canvas for fear she’ll find this is all a dream.

“A date,” Kara says, and Cat’s head snaps around to look at her in shock. “Your price for running the story was to meet me, my price for the painting is seeing you.”

And there are so many reasons Cat should refuse, but she doesn’t have the strength. She isn’t that good of a person, no matter what Kara had seen in her.

So rather than turn Kara down and walk away, Cat quickly agrees to a time and place, somewhere private and discrete so that Kara will feel comfortable. Somewhere that being out with the Queen of all Media won’t attract attention and invade her well protected privacy.

“Oh and Cat? My name? It’s Kara Zor-El,” Kara says as Cat is leaving. And the gesture of trust, far more than the painting or anything else, is what convinces Cat that she’ll never be able to push Kara away even if she should.

Whatever Kara sees in her, Cat will just have to learn to live up to it.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 1x03-- The Schtup List

I got my recap done early this week, and as I was writing I started to wonder about something. I’ve gotten a bunch of new followers in the last week or so (Hi! Thanks for following!) and I’m not sure if y’all were TGW fans or if you’re new to the franchise. And I’m really curious about that, so, even if you’re not following me or reading my recap beyond this intro paragraph, I’d love messages (anon is fine!) about why you’re watching TGF and how much, if any, of TGW you’ve seen. 

Anyway. Recap is under the cut! 

My favorite thing about the TGF credits is that I don’t have to watch them. Let me explain: for years, I read press releases for every TGW episode, and so I always knew which guest star would pop up when. But CBS isn’t releasing press releases for TGF, so the only way to know who’s going to show up in an episode is to read the credits. On TGW, the credits played over the show, so they were impossible to avoid even if you didn’t already know who would be guest starring. But on TGF, if I just don’t look at the credit sequence until I rewatch the episode, I can actually be surprised when guest stars show up!

In a classic TGW move, we pick up right where we left off: Maia’s parents’ house. It’s awkward. Jax asks Maia how she is like nothing’s wrong. After a pause, Maia says she’s “good” a little too loudly. “Very good,” she adds.

She stares at her mom incredulously. “Glad things are going so well for you, mom,” she snarks as she makes her exit. Lenore follows, protesting that Maia’s misinterpreting what she saw. “My dad is in jail for something he didn’t do, and you’re fucking the man who put him there?” Maia accuses. Woah, harsh, but accurate. I get the sense Maia doesn’t use that word around her mom often, especially not in this sort of context. Also, on TGW she totally would’ve said “banging.”

“Don’t you use that language with me,” Lenore scolds (see! This is why we need All Access! Because the fact that Maia can use the f-word, then be reprimanded by her mother for using inappropriate language, conveys a lot about their dynamic, and you couldn’t do that with “banging.” Maia uses that word on purpose because it’s harsh and crude; she’s angry. Lenore reacts like the parent of a teenager, not the parent of an adult; it’s clear she’s still thinking of Maia as a child and clear she’s the type of person that finds such language inappropriate.)

Maia can’t believe Lenore is policing her language instead of talking about the fact that she is screwing her brother-in-law. Lenore claims it’s to help Henry. Basically, she’s claiming she’s sleeping with Jax to manipulate him or get information. Maia can’t believe that, either.

“You’re telling me you’re doing this for dad?” she sneers. “Okay. Good to know.” Lenore asks Maia not to tell Henry.

I don’t know who to trust here, but I feel bad for Maia.

Once she’s back inside her car, Maia takes a minute to process what she’s seen: “Oh, my God.”

And then, abruptly, we’re in a hospital in Syria watching a surgery. The surgeons are being assisted by an American doctor at Chicago’s Harbor Hospital (I believe that’s the same fictional hospital from TGW’s 1x12, among other episodes).

Barbara gives a rundown of the firm’s finances at a partner meeting. Among other things, she mentions they’re still waiting for a capital contribution from a partner—Diane is still trying to get her money together. Assuming Diane follows through, there’s 8.5 million in profit to be split among the partners. Except for that a big client hasn’t paid their retainer. They’re down 12 million without that retainer. Holy shit, that’s a big client. This means all the equity partners are on the hook for $300,000 more this year. That has to mean they have 11-12 partners and the firm is taking a loss of 3.5 million without the retainer?  Oh my God, why do I always end up caring about these things?

Adrian isn’t worried about the retainer. Diane, on the other hand, is very worried about having the $300,000 she already owed doubled.

Marissa is answering Diane’s phone when a man walks over to her desk. She asks the caller if she “can” take a message, and when she hangs up, the man corrects her: it’s “may I.” “Thanks. May I help you?” Marissa replies. Turns out this man is the investigator, and he’s upset that Marissa found the names for the class action without him. This makes me wonder why Lucca and Maia and Diane didn’t ask the investigator to, since they didn’t know Marissa was looking and needed it in a hurry.

Anyway, the investigator, whose name is Jay, I think, though he hasn’t introduced himself yet, doesn’t want Marissa to keep doing his job for him.

Marissa interrupts the partners’ meeting to tell Diane there’s a doctor on the line for her. He was arrested for terrorism.

Maia meets with her lawyer, Yesha. Maia wants to see her father, but Yesha thinks that’s not wise. “I need to warn him. I think he’s being set up,” Maia explains.

Yesha reluctantly says it’s okay, but she’s going to be there, too. Maia thinks that’s not necessary, but Yesha sees what she can’t: “There will be a moment when you tell a client, ‘for your own good, you have to do what I say.’ This is one of those moments for you.” That’s an excellent way of putting it. Yesha needs to be there so everything’s subject to attorney-client privilege.

Diane finds her doctor client in holding. He explains why he was conducting surgery remotely. Lucca pops up out of nowhere and inserts herself right into the conversation. Diane isn’t pleased, and calls Barbara to ask why she sent Lucca.

A head’s up text would’ve been nice. But…

Barbara sends Lucca because she “has experience in federal court.” To which Diane replies, “Barbara, I was a name partner at the town’s biggest firm.” And that’s exactly Barbara’s point. “Yes, and I’m a name partner at this firm,” Barbara says. “I’m not questioning that,” Diane responds. But you are, aren’t you? You’re on the phone with Barbara when you could be coordinating strategy with Lucca. I get where Diane’s coming from, since Barbara blindsided her with this and sometimes you really do just need one voice to get your point across. But does this really require a phone call from the courtroom?

“Did you sometimes overrule the judgement of junior partners?” Barbara asks.

In fact, she did!!!!! Does anyone else remember the plot in 7x14 (a good TGW ep that’s possibly also the most forgettable episode they’ve ever done) where Diane tried to get Lucca off a case (so Lucca could work on something tedious and unimportant) to prove a point to Alicia about who had the power? And how Diane said she feared Alicia’s “independence and resistance to oversight” upon coming back to the firm as a junior partner? I sided with Diane on that one, because she needed to set a precedent for the working relationship going forward. So I’m going to side with Barbara on this one, for exactly the same reason. (And, if you really want to look into hierarchy: these are both instances where Lucca has to do what she’s asked to do in order to prove a point to someone more senior.)

“So this is a lesson in humility?” Diane wonders. Only partially. Barbara has other reasons, too: the top AUSA, Colin Morello, is on the other side, so it’s a good idea to have two people on the defense.

“Why are you really doing that?” Adrian asks Barbara. “What do you mean? I want them to work together,” Barbara says. “No, Barbara, it’s a power play. I know that sound in your voice when you’ve got some kind of hidden agenda,” Adrian says. Barbara does seem to share her opinions via subtext, which is a character trait that I bet will annoy Diane. It’s not that Diane is always 100% upfront and clear about her intentions (I could write an essay on how she’s not), but Diane’s style does tend to involve coming across as upfront, and I think she responds best to others who are upfront. Or, rather, to others who seem like they’re upfront.

Barbara explains yet another reason to put Lucca on that case: Lucca needs to feel needed. She’s a good employee and Barbara knows Lucca won’t stay put if she feels undervalued. That’s a very smart insight into Lucca, whose confidence never seems to waver, and who would totally quit a job she wasn’t satisfied with. Lucca used to work in bond court and never loved the idea of a big law firm, anyway. She’ll bolt if she’s not respected… and she already lost her office to Diane.

And I don’t even think Barbara knows that Lucca’s the one who destroyed* Diane’s marriage in court!

*made the destruction public; Lucca didn’t make Kurt fuck Holly.

“That’s the thing about power. You got to take it from somebody to give it to somebody else,” Adrian says. “Thank you, Sun Tzu,” Barbara replies, unimpressed. Is it really that bad of an idea for Barbara to make a power play now? What happens to her firm down the line if she doesn’t set the tone now? Diane’s already brought over two more white people without recognizing her own biases… and last week, Diane hired Marissa right after a conversation with Barbara about racial hiring. Barbara built a firm with her own ideas for its culture and purpose and place in the landscape; Diane’s (unchecked) presence is a threat to all of Barbara’s hard work (and to the people that are helped by the firm she helped to build).

“Barbara. Be nice to Diane. Don’t rule it over her like that, huh?” Adrian warns patronizingly. Why? Why should Barbara be “nice” to Diane? Barbara didn’t know Diane was being asked to join, and her name’s on the letterhead! And Barbara is not being mean to Diane or hazing her or anything like that or even continuously doing this. She is setting a tone.

I swear, if Adrian had said “are you jealous?” which, tbh, feels like the natural extension of his tone/line there, I would be ranting in all caps right now. I mean, how dare Barbara feel threatened by her partner making decisions without her and then telling her she just needs to be nice? 

“Do I question your leadership?” Barbara responds. “All the time,” Adrian says. They both laugh. “Okay. I’ll behave,” Barbara promises.

(I don’t mean to say Barbara’s fully in the right here, because I think she could’ve made her point without having Lucca surprise Diane in court. A simple, “Diane, I want Lucca on this with you,” would’ve made the same point.)

Court stuff happens. Diane and Lucca both respond at the same time to something Colin Morello, our only white male series regular (whom @fle has thus named “Token”) says. Guys, work together.

This case is really interesting, but I’m not spending my time recapping it. (I really don’t know how many new readers I have for these things, but I usually like to ignore the cases and focus on the characters. Sometimes, a case will set me off—usually if they make an argument that doesn’t make sense or if they touch on a subject I know enough about to have opinions on—and I’ll talk about it, but mostly, I’ll just say, “Case stuff happens.”

Adrian and Barbara are trying to get the missing $12 million, and so they meet with the client at their new executive dining room. Obviously, the problem isn’t that they’re lacking in money. The client is a little evasive. The board might want to go a different direction, now that there’s a new administration. They might be going with a different minority owned business now.

The client knows that elevators are awkward and doesn’t get in with Barbara and Adrian. (Okay, no, the real reason he doesn’t get in is that he has another lunch meeting.)

“It’s what I said against Trump. I spoke at a rally,” Barbara determines. (Yay, Barbara!) Adrian thinks that’s not it, then gets an idea. He goes back up to the dining room, and sure enough, there’s the client, meeting with the head of another minority-owned law firm.

According to Investigator Jay, the other law firm is small, just 12 lawyers, and it’s moved from D.C. Its founder ran a Trump PAC.

“Wow. So we’re going bankrupt because we didn’t pander to Trump,” Adrian realizes. I wonder if this is actually playing out anywhere.

Case stuff happens. The scene where the doctor is surrounded by men in suits and taken into custody looks like something that could’ve happened on BrainDead. Space bugs!

Even though we already know that Yesha’s going to be with Maia when she visits her father, director Marta Cunningham cleverly underlines how intrusive the presence of lawyers is in this personal moment. First, we see only Maia. Then we see Henry, who looks uncomfortable. It’s only then we get a medium-long shot of the room, establishing that Yesha’s sitting right next to Maia.

And the trick works again. Henry responds to Maia, then Maia’s the one looking uncomfortable, and then we’re clued in to what the characters already know: Henry also brought his lawyer.

This makes conversation impossible, but Henry does manage to mention that Lenore stopped by earlier that morning. That worries Maia, and she wants more information. But Lenore didn’t share anything unexpected.

Maia weighs how to proceed. “Do you really think that mom is helping you?” Maia asks. “Helping me with…?” Henry responds. “Well, is she staying by you, or, you know, is she standing by… Jax?” Maia rephrases. Henry doesn’t understand why that would be the case. She’s trying to convey that there’s reason to be suspicious, and everyone in the room picks up on it.

“We should end this,” Henry says. Maia doesn’t understand, but then she gets it: Her dad hugs her, and before the lawyers can stop him, he whispers some information to Maia.

Maia refuses to pass the information on to Yesha—and she doesn’t even hide that there’s information. Yesha reminds her that there’s no child-parent privilege. But Maia’s made her mind up anyway.

RBK needs to look less liberal, which means they need a Trump voter. But, LOL, they’re having trouble finding one.

Case stuff happens. Diane wants to take the lead, but Lucca thinks she’s in a better position to argue against Colin. Diane notices Lucca’s effect on Colin, and says Lucca can go first. Hey, team work! (I would’ve loved a little more from Diane in this episode, specifically more about Diane’s working relationship with Lucca. Is there any bad blood between them after 7x22? Or does Diane mostly fault Alicia for that?)

Diane calls Marissa and asks her to find a witness from the Medical Licensing Board. Marissa starts to ask questions to clarify, but decides to just do it herself. Is it bad that my first thought upon watching this scene was, “I bet if Diane had hired one of the candidates Barbara found, they’d know how to take care of this request”? (Marissa can and will learn, of course.)

Because it’s urgent, Marissa rushes to find someone else to help. Maia notices her rushing around and asks her what she needs. Marissa needs Jay; Maia doesn’t know who he is. “He’s about this tall, black,” Marissa describes. “That’s not very helpful, is it?” she realizes. No, it’s not, and also, you couldn’t describe his fashion or his hair style?

Marissa volunteers to help Maia whenever Diane’s out. “What are you doing at 4?” Maia asks.

Marissa barges into a meeting to find Jay. She says she was needed to do something investigative, and Jay asked her to let him know if that happened. This doesn’t sound like an investigative task to me, since Diane would’ve, you know, asked an investigator to do this if it were, but Marissa’s new and Jay can help, so, sure.

RBK has 80 lawyers and 50 staff, if you were curious, which I definitely was. None of them voted for Trump. Or, as Barbara points out, none of them were willing to admit it. Wouldn’t surprise me if it really were the former. But it’s not. See, Julius Cain voted Trump. “Seriously?” Barbara can’t believe it. But she’s more focused on the goal than surprised by this revelation, and says Julius will pitch for them. Julius worries about being ostracized and isolated. Well, I mean, do unto others as you would have others do unto you, right? And we know who you voted for and the policies he supports. (Normally I’d say people shouldn’t be looked at differently because of their political beliefs. This past election has me reconsidering that, especially since I know Julius isn’t ignorant or misinformed.)

“Kanye voted for Trump,” Barbara tries to comfort Julius. “No, he didn’t. He said he would have if he did vote,” Julius feels the need to clarify. Barbara promises only she and Adrian will know. But that doesn’t feel true.

“Really? Did he say why?” Adrian asks when he hears the news. “Conservative politics,” Barbara explains. I’ve seen some people say this episode doesn’t do enough to explain why Julius would’ve made that choice, and while I agree the episode could’ve gone a lot deeper, I’m also amused by everyone’s reactions. I imagine Julius was one of those people who assumed we’d just get a conservative administration that functioned like most other conservative administrations. How’d that work out?

Adrian makes the same comment about Kanye. Heh.

Barbara and Adrian both realize that Julius will be ostracized because of this no matter what.  

Lucca’s in a hurry��too much of a hurry to get a burger. Luckily for her, Colin is already eating a burger and offers her half. She has to take it because they don’t have much time.

Colin taunts her about the case. A blonde lawyer wearing way more makeup than characters on this show usually wear in court walks past and whispers in Colin’s ear. Lucca teases him about it, and about his general “cute little metrosexual thing; the ‘oh my god the law is just something I stumbled into,’ shit-eating grin” thing.

Lucca doesn’t eat half of her half of the burger, but she takes a few of Colin’s fries and leaves.

Court stuff happens. Marissa arrives with a witness. Diane thanks her, and Marissa tries to explain that Jay found her. Diane doesn’t have time to listen. “Okay,” Marissa says to herself. I hope that means she’ll mention it again later, especially if Diane tries to praise her again.

There are lots of images of clocks in this episode to underline the time constraint. Thanks for reminding me I can’t read analog clocks as quickly as I should be able to, show!

Maia goes to visit Jax. They make a bit of small talk before Maia says she’s looking for answers. “How’s that not the truth?” Maia says when Jax recaps Henry’s “lies.” “You know the truth, Maia. You watched your parents all those years,” Jax tells her. He explains that Henry got lucky and didn’t want to be seen as anything other than incredible, so he got a scheme going. I don’t know who to believe, but so far, Jax definitely seems like the least trustworthy person here. He’s so eager to tell his version of events, and he’s sleeping with his brother’s wife while his brother is in prison.

“Why are you sleeping with my mom?” Maia asks when Jax finishes recounting his version of events. Jax denies it, so Maia spits, “Fuck you.” Heh.

Then the phone rings. Maia tells Jax to answer it—she’s not going anywhere. He falls right into her trap, and she rushes to his computer (which Henry gave her the password for) while he takes the call. The call is from Marissa—that’s what Maia needed at 4:00—and it’s not about anything important. Marissa uses the word “regarding” a ton of times in a few sentences, then gets Jax to write down an “important” message.

Meanwhile, Maia finds what she’s looking for: Jax’s “Schtup List.” So, question: if Henry knows Jax’s password and what’s on Jax’s computer, how can we be sure that Henry didn’t put this on Jax’s computer to frame him?

Now Jay has to go to Marissa, because the family of the patient in the COTW won’t talk to him but they will talk to a white girl.

Jax finally hangs up, but Maia’s done before he notices. She leaves abruptly.

While Maia’s plan to distract Jax was smart, I’m not so sure the whole digging-around-on-Jax’s-computer thing was a good move. I know it’s family, but at what point will she doubt her father? She could’ve just put herself in a very bad situation. I don’t know if I should admire her commitment to her family or worry that she’s setting herself up for a legal disaster. Possibly both.

Adrian still can’t believe Julius voted for Trump. I sort of can. At least, I can believe that of all of the characters on the show in this episode, excluding the client and the rival firm owner, Julius is the most likely to have voted for him.

Case stuff happens and Marissa helps out.

Case stuff happens in court.

Get some digital clocks, show, dammit!

Diane and Lucca sort of win in court. They sort of shake hands, sort of hold hands; it’s sweet. I just wish there’d been a little more time to look at their dynamic. The tension faded so quickly the resolution feels… not undeserved, because I don’t want to overstate how much tension there was, but perhaps underdeveloped.  

The partners applaud Julius for getting their twelve million back. He’s happy, but then he goes back to his office and finds the rival firm’s leader, Andrew Hart.  Hart reminds him that from now on, no one will want to talk to Julius at RBK. He drops off his card, just in case. Gah, we’re not already doing partnership musical chairs, are we?! Not even three full episodes of peace?!

Lucca meets Colin for drinks. He tells her she did a good job and they flirt. Lucca says he’s not her type, so she’ll pick someone out for him. That’s not flirty at all, nope. 

Colin takes a call, and Lucca notices the TV in the bar showing a news story about Syria. Turns out she didn’t win. The patient died anyway, along with those in the operating room with him, because the government was trying to lure the patient’s brother, a known terrorist, to a location they could easily attack. Damn. Colin didn’t know it was a set-up, either.  

(Note that TGF’s win/loss record is currently 2-1, but both wins are complicated. The first episode is a loss for Diane and Maia, but it becomes a win because they switch sides. The second episode is just a loss. The third is a win that’s really a loss. I’ve tried to track win/loss records for TGW before, and it always ends up looking like this. I believe TGW’s first three episodes are: win, loss but there’s justice for the victim (it just doesn’t help the firm), favorable plea.

Maia takes the schtup list to her dad, no lawyers present. “What is it?” Maia asks. WAIT, you took your dad, who is in prison, information you downloaded off of someone else’s computer, and took it to him without knowing what it was or asking more questions before you handed it over?!

Maia only finds out once the information’s in her father’s hands that it might also implicate her mom. That’s fun!

I’m curious to know how these early decisions of Maia’s will play out. I hope I’m just being cynical and she’s right to trust her father. (Though I fear that right now, she’s trusting her father more than she usually would out of anger over what she witnessed her mom and Jax doing!) And I hope that, if that’s the case, no one else uses this against her. Maia’s obviously in the dark about the actual scheme, but if she keeps doing stuff like this, someone could very easily paint a picture that makes her look guilty.

Maybe next week we’ll get more Diane and more of Maia’s personal life? I’d really love to see more about who Maia is when she’s not caught up in the conspiracy drama.