#too good to go Markham

[scorpioriesling]

Hello! Love love LOVE your Bodhi/Ridoc/Liam work. Would you be willing to write a Bodhi x Reader smut where absolutely love sick jealous Bodhi finally gets his girl and wants to ruin her for anyone else? Merci xx

Blank Space

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Bodhi x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, minute injury

Summary: There were many good things about how you'd spent your time at Basgiath -- you'd made so many friends, been promoted to co-curator within the scribe quadrant, and even got to sit in on a few classes where you'd co-teach with Markham. Needless to say, college life was going quite well for you. That was, until you met him.

SR’s Note: I smell a mini series / multi-parter coming on... how do we feel? Who wants part two? Personally, I love where this is going. <3

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @freakishfandomfiend (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

It'd been 2 years since you'd dated anyone. 2 years without a relationship, 2 years of... well, other things lacking, as well. But, you had a lot on your plate -- you had gone to college, joined the scribe quadrant, and taken on a massive workload since you began your college experience.

There were good things about how you'd spent your time, too -- you'd made so many friends, been promoted to co-curator with Colonel Markham, and even got to sit in on a few classes.

Needless to say, college life was going quite well for you. That was, until you met him.

✧･ﾟ: *

"We have multiple riders stationed at the outposts," Markham droned on, delivering the most current events we had record of from a few days prior. "However, we still find ourselves unprepared when attacks occur -- why do we think this is?"

The lecture hall falls silent as riders look to one another.

Because of the lack of weaponry we've been supplying.

The answer is clear in your mind, but you keep your mouth shut. Markham had asked that you join today's lecture to assist in the news delivery, and to get you more exposure in speaking to a large crowd such as this. He scans the crowd expectantly, and you let out a small sigh.

He catches the sound, his gaze turning to where you sat beside Professor Duvera.

"Y/N, please -- explain what our fault is in this situation."

You inhale a sharp breath as your eyes meet his. He gives you a reassuring smile, but you can feel nerves tugging at the edges of your mind.

You swallow hard before speaking.

"We're ... um," you cough, clearing your throat. "We're unprepared when it comes to these attacks because... well, we're not supplied with the weaponry required before departing for the outposts," you explain. A few first years raise eyebrows at you, but Markahm nods in agreement.

"Exactly," he assures, holding an open palm to the flow charts and maps hung behind you. "Since we're still not getting it -- please explain your reasoning."

You gulp, rising slowly as your cream robes flow lightly around your legs. Making way toward the depiction of weaponry in the armory, you gesture a slightly trembling hand toward the numbers.

"So, here we have the amount of items in the arsenal on any given day," you explain, sure to glance out at the crowd here and there like your professor taught you. Moving to the next graph, you study it with more confidence.

"This one here shows how much is left now, even with the riders out at the outposts." Markham grins in approval, and Duvera addresses the room.

"Not much of a change there, right?"

She earns a few nods and murmurs in return. Turning back to you, she gives you an encouraging look while still adressing the crowd.

"Why do we think that is?" She says, and a few shy hands raise from the middle of the room. Before the teacher can select someone to answer, a bold voice from the back shouts throughout the room.

"Because riders are self-righteous assholes too prideful to take ALL the equipment they need!"

The class bursts into laughter, and you can't help but flush at the outward foul language used by one of your yearmates. Duvera shakes her head, trying and failing to surpress her own grin.

"Precisely."

✧･ﾟ: *

You were one of the last ones in the lecture hall gathering your things as the remainder of the students cleared out. Markham and Duvera had both already left for their next commitment, giving you the remainder of the day off.

Ascending the steps, you gasped in embarassment as your slipper caught on the edge of your robe, failing to find footing on the uneven staircase and sending you sprawling across a few. Your hand scraped agross the gravelly stone, and your cheek hit the hard material as books, papers, and pencils scattered around you.

A soft groan escaped your throat as you lifted yourself off the ground, pain blooming in both your open palm and cheek. You blinked twice, trying to regain some composure when a large, tanned hand appeared before you.

"I saw what happened -- a-are you alright?"

Your eyes looked up slowly, absentmindedly tracing over every harsh line and toned leg muscle before meeting the warmest, most beautiful brown eyes you'd ever seen. The curly brunette wore exclusively black (of course), though his tight-fitting shirt only seemed to accentuate the ridges of his lean arms, all the way down to where his outstretched hand cleared the fabric.

You swallowed hard, taking his hand and wincing as he pulled you back onto your feet with ease. When you were at full height, his other hand grasped your waist, helping you regain your balance.

"Please say something -- you're worrying me," he continued speaking, but you were so wrapped up in how his touch felt against you that you had to shake your head to clear your thoughts again before speaking.

"I - oh gosh, yeah, um, thank you," you fumbled, glancing down at where your abandoned tomes lay scattered across the lower stairs. When you looked back to him, his eyes met yours with a stare so intense, you immediately blushed.

His lips titled into a small grin before his brows narrowed once more, his gaze faltering at the sight of your scraped cheek. Your breathing halted when he raised a hand, his fingers lightly brushing over the pink skin.

"Oh my Gods; your cheek," he said softly, and you pulled back an inch. He didn't think twice before taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up toward him as he inspected you further.

"That's so embarassing -- I'm so sorry, I-"

"You should never feel embarassed," he said, his tone low. "You tripped; everyone trips," he continued, as his eyes met yours once again. "I'm just sorry I wasn't there in time to catch you."

Now, you really blushed.

"I should get going," you said with a breathless laugh, catching the small hint of defeat in his stare. You turn to gather your things when his arm wraps completely around your bicep in protest.

"Please, allow me."

He ascends the stairs with such practiced grace that you can't help but watch. The muscles in his back flex as he stoops to gather your things, and you feel your mouth run dry.

What the Hell was wrong with you?

He begins climbing the stairs once more as a bright light appears behind you, and voices from the exit at the top of the stairs make themselves heard.

"Bodhi! We're supposed to be on the flight field!"

The same voice from earlier sounds from behind you, and you turn only for a moment to catch a glimpse of the other rider. Turning back to Bodhi, he doesn't rush his pace in the slightest -- he only continues organizing and stacking your things neatly in his arms.

"One sec," he says, though the other male may not have been able to hear with the roar of students in the hallway behind him.

He hands your things to you with a smile, his eyes roving over your face as you grin in thanks. He sighs, taking one step forward before turning toward you once more.

"Are you free later tonight?"

Your eyes widen, and youopen your mouth to protest.

"Bodhi! Flight field! Now!"

His gaze doesn't falter from yours.

You quickly fumble for a response, some sort of excuse but come up empty.

"Yes, I suppose," you say softly, and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip before responding.

"If you want, a lot of us riders are heading to the square around seven, if you want to meet-"

"BODHI!"

He huffs, turning to look at the other rider angrily.

"ONE SECOND!"

His shout echoes throughout the hall before he turns back to you, steadying his breath before continuing.

"We're meeting near the south entrance of Basgiath -- between our two quadrants," he says quickly. "Seven. I'll see you there?"

He begins walking up the stairs, and before he turns, you respond with the answer that may have just sealed your fate before you knew it.

"I'll see you there."

✧･ﾟ:

You'd spent the entire afternoon battling it out in your head; sure, it took hours to finally decide on an outfit that was apropriate, but that was the least of your concerns.

You just met the man today -- why so giddy?

Groaning in exasperation, you ran a brush through your hair and sat down before your mirror. You hadn't realized your roommate had gotten out of the shower until she appeared behind you in the looking glass, wrapped in a fluffy taupe robe and matching hair towel. You chewed the inside of your cheek, debating on asking her advice.

What's going on? Hot date or something tonight?

She signs to you in the mirror, her gaze fixating on yours as you sigh.

Maybe, you sign back. I'm not really sure what I'm even doing.

She approaches behind you, her hands ruffling through your locks as she peeks around your shoulder.

Who is he? Her grin in infectious as she signs to you, and you sigh before replying.

He's... well, he's a rider.

Her brows raise in surprise as she eyes you, squeezing your shoulders in excitement.

How exciting! How did you meet?

You roll your eyes, walking her through your embarassing encounter earlier today. Jesinia was an accredited scribe as well, joining Markham for lectures every once in a while as well as assisting on many high-profile tasks. Needless to say -- she'd become your best friend, and the two of you shared many of the same assets when it came to your quadrant.

She lets out a soft giggle as she reaches for your brush, running it through your tendrils.

So, you met after falling down a flight of stairs? Her shoulders continued to shake. You pinned her with a humorless look.

Not a whole flight, you signed. Just a few. And besides... he was so kind to help me with my things.

Jesinia recollected herself, setting the brush down beside you.

Trust me, I've had interest in a rider or two before -- they're nothing if not helpful.

She smiles, turning you around in the chair to face her.

I find my situation with a rider myself to be working out quite well -- is he a second year? She asks.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Third.

Her brows raise. Who?

You purse your lips. Bodhi, you spell out slowly. She clasps a hand over her mouth before signing quickly again.

Bodhi Durran?

You nod.

Y/N! You know his cousin is-

Yes, yes, you sign, waving off her concerns. I know who his cousin is.

She sighs, her face falling.

Just be careful how involved you let him get, she signs. It's hard to get attached to someone, only to have them taken from you in an instant.

Your heart cracked. Jesinia didn't handle Liam's death well, though she was in a much happier relationship now with Sawyer. Still, you could tell his loss was something she thought of often.

I'll be careful, I promise. You sign back, and she shakes her head in amusement at you.

Besides, you'll be there to help me out tonight, right?

Her brows knit. I didn't know that was aprt of the plan?

You stand, grinning at her with a feline grace. It is now, Jes.

✧･ﾟ: *

The two of you arrived near the south entrance at approximately seven, just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. You'd wisely chosen a fitted tank top and loose cotton pants -- while Jesinia on the other hand, opted for a sweater and skirt. The two of you only looked mildly out of place as you approached the group, who of course, only ever wore black.

"Hey! How's it going guys?"

Saywer adressed the two of you before wrapping your best friend in a bone-crushing hug. Her breathless giggle was impossible not to envy, especially as Sawyer looked down at her like the was the most precious thing in the world.

"Hi."

The soft sound of that familiar voice from this morning had your gaze tearing from the reunion before you, refocusing on the tall, tanned male stalking toward you. He grinned sheepishly, not at all trying to hide the way his eyes drank you in. You blushed yet again beneath his gaze.

"Hi."

He grinned at your shy tone as his eyes finally met yours.

"You look beautiful," he said, a small blush fanning across the tops of his cheekbones. Despite what Duvera had confirmed earlier about riders being self-righteous, prideful assholes and what not -- you found the reaction quite cute.

"Thank you," you chuckled. "You look nice yourself."

He gestured to his basic tee and black jeans.

"Pshhh, this?" He beamed. "It was nothin'."

You chuckled, and another black-clad male cupped his hands around his mouth from the front of the group.

"EVERYONE! LISTEN UP!" You attention snapped to where the brunette stood before the crowd. "WE'RE HEADED TOWARD LINDELL'S -- YOU GO ANYWHERE ELSE, DON'T GO ALONE. BUDDY UP, AIGHT?"

Many of the riders nodded, some pairing up in preparation while a few others acknowledged the speaker with a "Yes Aetos". Your eyes searched for Jesinia, but your gaze halted when a stong arm linked through yours.

"Be my buddy tonight?" His warm chocolate eyes found yours. You couldn't help the wild grin from taking over your whole face. Truthfully, you may have wanted to be more than his "buddy".

You slapped yourself mentally. It was the first "date", if that. Get ahold of yourself.

"Of course," you replied, a light laugh escaping as he smiled at you. "Although, if you get into any trouble, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to protect you."

He scoffed. "Are you kidding me? That's precisely why I chose you," his opposite hand lifted, clasping around your small bicep. "If I get into any trouble, I want these guns on my side of the fight."

You laughed, whole heartedly this time. The group had begun the trek to the square, and Jesinia glanced back from her position ahead of you. A small smile spread across her face at the sight.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

"So, how is it working with Markham!"

You strain to hear the silver-haired girl over the thump of the bass. You raise your brows at her, and take another long drink from your cup, which only makes her laugh.

"That bad?"

You shake your head. "No, no, I'm only kidding -- he's really not too hard on us over in the scribe quadrant," you half-shout. "He's harder on Jes and I because he pushes us to be the best."

She gives you a sympathetic look, nodding in understanding.

"I've known Jesinia for a long time -- almost joined the scribes with you guys last year," she explains. You nod as you listen to her story, that is until the opening notes of the latest most-popular song begin to play.

She looks to you wide-eyed, and you match her stare.

"I LOVE THIS SONG!"

The two of you erupt into half-drunken laughter after saying the same thing at the same time -- that is, until a tall, tanned male with sandy blonde hair approaches and throws an arm around Violet's shoulders.

"Aaric! Hey!" Violet exclaims. You do a quick sweep of the bar, finding Jesinia lingering next to Sawyer by the barstools. Your attention is turned back to Violet when she clasps a hand on your forearm.

"Y/N, this is Aaric -- he's a first year this year, and a fantastic rider," she explains. The cute guy tosses you a wink, and you feel something wild happening in your stomach. Butterflies.

"Aaric, this is Y/N -- she's a second year scribe, and apparently my new best friend!" You beam when Violet throws her arms around you, and you meet Aaric's green-eyed gaze as the two of you share a small laugh.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Y/N," he says. "Can I get you anything to drink?" He nods toward your empty cup, and you open your mouth to respond but Violet beats you to it.

"Noooo, we're going to dance!" She exclaims, tugging you toward the small dance floor. "You can finish flirting with her later."

Heat rises until its covering your cheekbones, the incinuation that he was hitting on you causing not only butterflies in your stomach, but an entire landslide.

Aaric only chuckles, his gaze lingering on you as you sway to the beat of the song. However, you weren't as tapped in to the other gaze focused on you from the other end of the bar.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

"What a great night!"

Jesinia nodded to Violet, who was near tapping out as the clock inched nearer toward 1 AM. The exhaustion of the day had begun to wear on you as well, and after one two many drinks and hours of endless dancing -- you were ready to call it a night too.

Are you about ready?

Jesinia's eyes dropped before she signed back to you timidly.

Well... Sawyer asked me to stay over, and it is a Friday...

You beamed at her, plastering a look of encouragement on before answering.

OH, yes! Absolutely stay with him! I'm just heading to the dorm to hit the hay anyways.

She smiled apologetically, giving you a small hug before the DJ's voice boomed over the speakers.

"Last song of the night! Everybody out on the floor!"

Many of the patrons left in the bar were riders from the college, and a couple made their way onto the dance floor for the last dance. Violet laughed at a few of her other friends who were dancing in a humorous manner, and with Jesinia swaying against Sawyer, you suddenly felt... alone.

"Can I get a last dance before the night's over?"

You turned, meeting the intense green of Aaric's gaze before smiling up at him.

"You absolutely can, Aaric."

His grin was cute as he took one of your hands in his, raising it above your head to twirl you around. You laughed, stumbling over your own two feet with the effects of the alcohol taking control of your mind. The air ceased from your lungs when your toe caught on the heel of your shoe, sending you careening toward the ground.

Bracing for impact, you squinted your eyes open when it never came. Instead, Aaric had both arms wrapped tightly around you, his face mere inches from yours.

"Woah! Ha ha," he chuckled, stepping back in an attempt to stand you upright once more. Your face flushed in embarassment, and your gaze fell.

"Sorry," you mumbled, only before his fingers traced the curve of your jaw. Your gaze fixated on his face, examining him. For a first year, he was quite handsome. Strong jaw, slim nose, and my Gods those eyes...

A sound from the other end of the bar caught your attention, and your heart lept at the sight of Bodhi tossing his beer glass into the metal wastecan. His hard gaze found yours, a hidden flame burning hot behind those eyes. Your skin practically crawled with the flames as he strode over, his steps quick as his stare did not falter.

The song ended, and you turned back to Aaric, who had focused on your mouth. You resisted the urge to let him kiss you; you hated to disappoint people. Instead, you pried yourself from his arms.

"Will I see you around?" His hopeful tone sent a pang of guilt through your chest, but what hit harder was Bodhi's approaching presence behind you.

"I'm sure you will." You flashed him a promising smile, and he couldn't help but smile back at you.

"Bar's closing."

You turned at the sound of Bodhi's voice, and the moment you faced him in full; his features softened.

"Oh... okay."

You made to follow him out of the bar, turning and sending a small wave to Aaric before clearing the front entrance. His steps were fast, and his long legs made it hard to keep up with him.

"B-Bodhi... slow down-"

You smacked straight into his chest when he halted, turning back to face you at once. Before you could stumble, both of his hands clasped around your arms, holding you still before him. Your mind swam as your vision refocused, and met the gaze of those warm chocolatey eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said shortly, his intense stare causing your brow to furrow.

"What's wrong?" You asked, and he took a deep breath. "Bad beer?"

A hint of a smile touched his lips before he pulled you into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you and cradling the back of your head. You inhaled deep, basking in the suddenness of the moment and wishing you could stay like this all night. This time, there was no avalanche or butterflies in your stomach -- your entire body vibrated with his touch.

You hoped to blame the alcohol for that.

"I'm so glad I met you." He whispered into your hair, and you grinned. His chest muscles were tight beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, but you snuggled against him nonetheless. His hands gently stroked over your back, smoothing down your hair and running along your spine. When he did finally pull you away, it was to take one of your hands in his.

"C'mon -- let me walk you home."

✧･ﾟ: *✧

How You Get The Girl

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 36. The Only Mare In His Stable

Summary: With War Games and her first year over, Dahlia finally has the time to seek out Garrick. But maybe he just beats her to it.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Links

Of course Xaden had to pick the one spot to defend that had the longest flight there and back. My body was screaming at me to rest. We’d barely gotten time to sleep and fully rest. But it had been worth it. We’d successfully defended our outpost and taken over others in the area. I swear to gods we better have won this. Otherwise Xaden might need to hide for the next few days.

”It will get easier little flower.” Proth drawls in my head. But I can tell he’s just as exhausted as me through the bond.

”I know. And please don’t call me that anymore.” I tell him, my mind going back to when Garrick had used the name as he’d pulled a the first of many orgasms from me that night.

Proth chuckles in my head. “I have always called you that. The large one can find another name, or you can learn to separate the two.”

I can’t help but laugh at his nickname for Garrick. “You say that like it’s going to happen again.”

”I have spent the last five days listening to you think about him like a lovesick puppy even when you think you aren’t thinking about him.” He snaps at me. “So please do us both a favour and sort out whatever this is when we get back.”

Noted. And I’m sure my friends would be bugging me for updates as soon as I’d had time to shower and get back to normal. Damn Bodhi and his inability to keep his mouth shut. I sag with relief as the flight field comes into sight, only a few squads ahead of us as they make their way down to the Rotunda. I can’t see it from here, but I know it will be filled with the rest of the Quadrant waiting for the last of us to return so they can reveal the winner of War Games.

My feet barely touch the ground before Proth takes off, clearly wanting to rest after the long flight. We all fall into a comfortable silence as we follow Xaden through the field and down the stairs. All of us too exhausted to talk amongst each other. As we walk into the Rotunda I can’t help but scan the squads to find him. And due to his height he’s easy to spy down the back of tail section, his body sagging in relief as he sees me alive. I’d like to say unharmed, but I now sport a new scar on my right jaw that extends onto my neck from a well thrown dagger from second wing. And from what I can see he’s unharmed, just exhausted like the rest of us. His squad had been on the opposite end of our area, meaning we hadn’t crossed paths at all in the five days.

As soon as we take our spot Panchek steps forward. We must have been the last squad back. “Congratulations on surviving War Games. Just a small taste of what you will all do one day when you graduate. Tomorrow once all Squads have been accounted for, we will conduct the death roll and graduation. But for now, we must declare a winner.”

The quadrant buzzes with excitement, everyone mustering whatever energy they can. But as I scan the other squads I note a good number of them clearly showered and rested. Lucky bastards.

Markham walks forward, handing a scroll to Panchek who unrolls it, keeping his face void of any emotion as he reads it. His eyes raise to us, scanning the wings in front of him. Everyone going silent as they anxiously await the results.

”The winner of this years War Games after a very impressive battle this year, is Fourth Wing!” He calls out before the Quadrant is deafened by the cheers of our wing.

I’m immediately pulled into the arms of my Squad, Xaden begrudgingly joining us as Bodhi pulls him in. All of a sudden relaxing and a shower is the last thing on my mind, on any of our minds. We’d fucking won War Games. Guess I wouldn’t need to murder Xaden for picking the outpost that he did. Slowly we break apart, my other squad members moving away to congratulate the rest of our wing.

I can’t help but look over at Dain who looks thoroughly annoyed his wing hadn’t won. I’m sure Panchek had read out the placements of the other Wings, but I’d been too lost in the cheers of my Wing to hear it. Dain furrows his brow at me. No, not me. Something behind me. His eyes looking at something above me. I turn to see Garrick pushing his way over to me. My heart starts beating loudly in my chest as he gets closer.

I open my mouth to say something, but he rushes forward, grasping my face in his hands as he crushes his lips to mine. All I can register is the warmth of his hands, the firm pressure of his lips, and the way my pulse thrums like a drum in my ears. My hands instinctively rise, clutching at his flight jacket, half for balance, half in disbelief.

The cheers of my Wing morph into hoots and hollers, but they feel distant, like they belong to a world I’m no longer part of. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, and his breath comes in shallow bursts. His eyes, bright and intense, search mine, as though he’s trying to find words but can’t quite manage them. The silence between us feels louder than the noise around us.

“You—” I start, but my voice catches, barely above a whisper. “What was that?”

Garrick smirks down at me. “Making what I want clear. This,” He says as he gestures between us, “Is not just sex. Not anymore. You made it clear what you wanted from me to even consider this being a thing. And I did it.” I swear I note a slight shake in his hand, but it’s hard to tell with how hard we’re both breathing.

”You barely know me.” I say as I look down at where my hands still grip his jacket.

”You know that isn’t true. We might have spent most of the year despising each other, but we both know more about each other than we care to admit.” Garrick puts a finger under my chin, guiding my eyes back to him. “So, what do you say to being the only mare in my stable?”

My heart pounds in my chest, drowning out everyone around us as I look up at Garrick. And after a few seconds where I swear Garrick looks scared, I nod up at him. And for the first time since I was a kid, I beam up at Garrick, unable to hold back the smile at the way he’s asked me. But with the amount of times I’d thrown that analogy at him, it was fitting.

”Imogen! I want my ten gold pieces!” Bodhi yells out, startling us both as he pushes past Austin and Liz, walking towards Imogen who shakes her head and tries to walk away from him.

”Did they-”

”Yeah, they placed a bet on us.” Garrick confirms with a shake of his head.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01 @hyperfixation-train-station @lxnvmvrzx @thebreadisthetruevillian @red0202 @fangirling-galore @craftytrashprincess @taliyahvermillion @xadenswhore @fenixyrie @lagrandeourse @hellodarling1357 @iambored24601  @thegiftofacreativemind @fanfictionjunkie1112 @mysticalfuncollectorus

[redheadsramblings]

WIP What Day Is it?

Tagged by the lovely @pseudospaceship and @sunny374940

I've got more Vorgoth Gets A Crypt Baby for you, and this time it's some Myrna POV as a treat 😘

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Lady Myrna Jana Tigana Asha Sotiria Van Markham was irritated. Not merely irritated, she decided. She was fuming. Not that anyone could tell looking at her, for even here in her private chambers the lady kept her face serene and expressionless as she had been taught. As to what had driven her to such heightened emotions, the causes were numerous. The most immediate being the letter from her Uncle that currently rested on the small table beside her chair, along with a now cold cup of tea resting on its saucer. The second was Vorgoth. Or more specifically, the absence of Vorgoth and the reason for their absence. The latter had been merely shimmering irritation to start with, but her Uncle's letter had tipped that irritation over in to full on boiling seething.

Both were treating her like an addlepated child. Though if she were in better humour she would, begrudgingly, admit that Vorgoth had treated her with respect. Furthermore, they had indeed made good points as to exactly why she could not accompany them, and she had at the time accepted them. It was only later, after some truly frustrating conversations with her professors, followed once again with having to take poor Emmrich to the infirmary. After some of his peers had once again pushed the poor lad to the floor and stomped all over his papers. Leaving the poor lad with bleeding knees and palms and near to tears over the damage. Oh, not to his skin, but to the books he'd been carrying.

Then while she'd been getting him seen to, little Johanna had come in like a whirlwind full of spitting fury and rage. She'd then had to calm the girl down and quite forcefully forbid her from retaliating against the others, for all the good she knew it would do. But she had to at least make an attempt, if only to be able to answer truthfully that she had tried if asked. She only prayed there would be no explosions this time, granted it had only been a small one, but it had still made a frightful mess. Though that particular boy had never gone near Emmrich again, so she could admire the method, if not the mess. Though Johanna was creative enough to never do the same thing twice, so the Maker only knew what that frighteningly creative mind would come up with next.

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And a lil treat of baby Emmrich and Johanna for you. Myrna is 19 here. Emmrich is 13 and Johanna is 11. And nothing will make me believe that Johanna wasn't an absolute menace as a child. And don't think she's being too sweet, looking out for Emmrich. She is, but she'll bite you if you say it out loud. He's hers. No one else is allowed to bully him, is her reasoning. Myrna isn't fooled though 😉

Tagging with no pressure @thequeenofthewinter @andthekitchensinkao3 @queenmuzz @sofiemystique @starfleetteddybear @themontess @velvet-apricots @choccy-zefirka @serbarris @tinygameralec @mosoderbergh @justgaledinner @theyearningghoul @aldisobey @woundedsoul12 @crimsen-khalessi @kirain @bankabb @lizziemajestic @opulentshits @hedwigoprah @the-font-bandit @thepalehorsevictoria @trashwithvariety @mercars-musings and anyone else who sees this and fancies a go tag you're it 😁

[violentdelightshavevioletends]

Time to go have my daily Riorgail cry… today ft. The Great War

My knuckles were bruised like violets

"Going for blood today, are we, Violence?"

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

"Which is what makes you exceptionally dangerous." His jaw flexes twice. "I can only read someone while they're awake, and I'm limited by their ability to shield. No one can shield while they're sleeping. You could potentially walk straight into Melgren's own dreams and he couldn't stop you. Probably wouldn't even know." His face twists for a heartbeat before he quickly masks it. "Violet, they'll kill you if they find out. It won't matter that you're the best weapon they have against the venin—against me."

Spineless in my tomb of silence

The storm of shadows. My blood chills. How far had he gone? I fling myself down the bond, but there's nothing there. It's gone. Or he's too far away to feel it, I remind myself to keep from panicking.

Tore your banners down,

"Gather the marked ones and meet us at the flight field-"

"No." I shake my head.

Xaden looks at me like l've sprouted a few more limbs. "We just talked about this. We can't stay here, and I won't leave you."

"Not just the marked ones," I clarify. "If Markham is gone and most of the leadership is flying for the border, then it's our only chance."

"To leave?" Xaden lifts his brows. "Good, then we're in agreement."

"To give everyone a choice." I glance at the empty tunnel. "They're going to lock this place down once the cadre returns, once they know they can't stop the spread of information, and our friends..." My head shakes. "We have to give them a choice, Xaden, or we're no better than leadership."

Took the battle underground

Revolution tastes oddly...sweet.

I stare at my older brother across a scarred wooden table in the enormous, busy kitchen of the fortress of Aretia and chew the honeyed biscuit he put on my plate. Damn, that's good. Really good.

Maybe it's just that I haven't eaten in three days, since a not-so-mythological being stabbed me in the side with a poisoned blade that should have killed me. It would have killed me if it hadn't been for Brennan, who won't stop smiling as I chew.

This might go down as the most surreal experience of my life. Brennan is alive. Venin, dark wielders l'd thought only existed in fables, are real. Brennan is alive. Aretia still stands, even though it was scorched after the Tyrrish rebellion six years ago. Brennan is alive. I have a new, three-inch scar on my abdomen, but I didn't die.

Brennan. Is. Alive.

And maybe it was ego swinging

"You want to fight for me?" I reach up into my hair and pull the pins loose one by one, letting them fall to the stone floor. "Then take a chance without knowing how I feel. You want my heart back? Risk yours first this time."

Maybe it was her

"How could you ever love someone like her?"

"I didn't." He shrugs. "You are the first and only woman I've ever loved."

"You were just engaged to her for..." I pause. "I don't even know how long you were engaged for." I feel...stupid.

"I would have told you if you'd asked. That's the problem here, Violet-you don't ask."

"It's not like you ask me about my exes." I cross my legs.

"Because I don't want to know, which I suspect is the same reason you continue to not ask me about the things that actually bother you, but let's just ignore that like we usually do. Seems to be working out for us." He lays the sarcasm on thick.

I look away because he's right, damn him.

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

"Show him what you want him to see," Liam urges. "She's nothing more than a traitor," Varrish retorts. "Right." Dain nods, and I close my eyes the second his fingers push in on my tender, aching temples.

They may have blocked me from my power, but that stems from Tairn. The control over my mind? That's mine, and it's all I have left.

Unlike last year, I feel Dain's presence at the edge of my mind this time, right where my shields should be, and instead of recoiling from the assault, I grab hold of that presence and throw myself into the memory, dragging Dain with me. "Do we have a riot nearby?" Liam asks. Gravity shifts as I realize my worst nightmare is indeed a living, breathing monster. Two legs. Not four. Wyvern. They'd sent us here to die. Venin with red veins distending from their eyes, killing helpless people. Blue fire. Desiccated land. Soleil and Fuil falling. We'll never be able to smuggle enough weaponry out to make a difference. They've kept us in the dark, erased our very history to avoid conflict, to keep us safe while innocent people die. Liam— Gods... Liam. I dig my mental fingernails into Dain and hold him there, making him feel it with me again, the helplessness. The chest-crushing sorrow. The eye-blurring rage. It's been my honor. Liam's last words to me. My vengeance in the sky, fighting along Tairn's back, armed with the only weapon that will kill the dark wielder doing her best to slay my dragon and end me. The moment the dagger slides into my side, I stop pulling Dain and start shoving, screaming both physically and mentally, filling my head with every ounce of pain that's been inflicted upon me in the last four days. Dain gasps, and his hands fall from my temples. I throw my eyes open, the sound of my scream still echoing in my ears as he draws back, horror etched on every line of his face.

All that bloodshed,

I couldn't save Liam. Couldn’t stop my mother, and I can't stop Xaden.

crimson,

"Tairn," I cry. "Tell me what to do."

"There's nothing you can do, Silver One."

"We both know I won't. Just promise you'll take care of Sloane," he begs, his eyes searching mine as his breaths grow ragged. "Promise."

"I promise," I whisper, taking his hand and squeezing, not bothering to wipe my tears. "I’ll take care of Sloane."

clover,

You're going to love Violet. She's smart and stubborn. Reminds me a lot of you, actually. You just have to remember when you meet her: she's not her mother.

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

"I will not die today."

"I will save him."

I can’t save him.

My hand was the one you reached for "I love you." Violet's voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place. No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love. My shadows consume the valley she stands in, dagger bared, defending Tairn from the same style of net that caught Sgaeyl. I shove the Maven to the ground, regardless of her rank, then slide over Violet with a gentleness that takes all my concentration. I love her. That is the emotion I cling to, the fire of pure power burning at the feeling's edges, and I know if I take it any further, it will be the next and final piece to float away.

All throughout the Great War

This is the kind of force that ends worlds. And it’s almost here. "I love you," I whisper down the bond, and the ice cracks, but it’s not enough to halt the approaching wave of darkness.

Always remember

"There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, remember?"

Uh-huh, tears on the letter

"I think the note on the outside is meant for you." Brennan hands back the parchment. I flip the missive over to see two sentences written in Xaden's handwriting. Don't look for me. It's yours now.

I vowed not to cry anymore

"Andarna is gone, I exist for Tairn, but I live for Xaden."

If we survived the Great War

"I’m going to be fine" I recite, because that’s my fucking mantra."

You drew up some good faith treaties

"Sure as hell not in our bedroom." His knee separates mine. "We don't fight in there."

"Since when?" That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. It's the only private space we have in this entire house. "Since right now. I just made that rule. No fighting in our bedroom."

"That's not how this works."

"Sure it is." He drops his gaze to my mouth. "We make the rules when they come to us. Go ahead, make one."

"A rule?" I draw my leg up, bracing my foot on the ground so I'll have leverage if I want it, but the movement also drags my inner thigh up the side of his hip, and damn if that doesn't instantly summon an ache he's in prime position to ease. "Anything."

"We don't keep secrets. No more ask me. No more tests to see who's in and who's out of this relationship. It's full disclosure between us..." I take a steadying breath and map out the golden flecks in his eyes just in case it's the last time. "Or it's nothing."

"Done."

"I'm serious." My hand slips up his chest to the juncture of his shoulder and his neck. "Even though I know you were right. I wasn't asking the right questions because I was afraid of the answers-and maybe I still am, given the fact that you're never completely open with me. Almost everyone in my life has kept secrets from me because I didn't ask the right questions, didn't look further than face value, and I understand that there will be times you can't tell me everything—that's the nature of what we do as riders—but I need you to stop setting me up for failure by insisting I figure out what there is to ask. "Done." He nods. "I just..." A muscle in his jaw flexes. "You just?" My fingers slide up the warm column of his neck and into his hair. "I need to know you'll be here. That no matter what happens, you'll come back so we can talk it out or fight it out." His gaze drops to my mouth, then skims over my features. My heart clenches, and I slide my hand along his chest, around his ribs, to his back, and then I hold on. "Done." The lines between his brows smooth. "I need you to know that no matter what information I hold, you trust me, love me enough to realize I'd never let it hurt you. I'm not the easiest person to know, but l've learned my lesson, believe me. Even if it's classified, I won't withhold any information that affects your agency." He swallows, then balances his weight on one arm and runs the back of his hand down the side of my cheek. "I need to know you won't run, that you know you'll never have to."

"I love you," I whisper. "You could throw my entire world into upheaval, and I would still love you. You could keep secrets, run a revolution, frustrate the shit out of me, probably ruin me, and I would still love you. I can't make it stop. I don't want to. You're my gravity. Nothing in my world works without you." "Gravity," he whispers, a slow, beautiful smile curving his mouth.

"The one force we can never escape," I tease. Then my smile falls. "I mean it, though." I lift my brows at him. "You have to let me all the way in, or all the love in the world won't hold this together. I am a person who needs information to center myself." "Done," he whispers. "Want to know about my father? My grandfather and Sgaeyl? The rebellion?"

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

Xaden and I talk most nights through the bond, but he still broodily refuses to spend physical time alone with me.

I pause on the landing, my gaze flickering from the steps ahead to the hallway on my left.

"Please don't tell me you're lost," Bodhi says, coming up the steps last.

"Of course not." I shake my head slowly. "It's just that I don't have a room here, and I'm not sure where I should sleep."

He scoffs and gestures down the hall. "You have a room. It hasn't moved."

"It's his room," I correct him quietly. "And he's all broody."

"We're home, Vi. Act like it." He grins, then turns around me, walking backward down the hallway on the right. "Sleep in your bed. He'll just brood harder if you don't."

I sigh when he disappears into his room, and then turn left and head to mine-ours.

"Sometimes I feel like I don't know you." I study the harsh lines of his face as his jaw flexes. "How am I supposed to really love you if I don't know you?" I can't, and I think we both know it.

You said I have to trust more freely

"Violet, there’s a knife in the armoire."

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

The sweet glow of happiness, of love, trust, and affection that burned so brightly in my chest just a few minutes ago sputters painfully, gasping for oxygen like a campfire put out by a bucket of water once it outlives its usefulness. All I can do is watch as the embers drown and die.

There it is. Anger rushes to my aid, overpowering the hurt. "You watched me train with him!" I shove at Liam's chest, and he stumbles backward through the grass. "You stood by and watched me fall for him!"

"Oh shit." Bodhi laces his hands behind his thick neck. "Violence, let me explain," Xaden says. He's always known my true nature, and honestly, the shadows should have clued me in to his. He's a master of secrets. Unspent power ripples in my very bones as l turn my back on Liam to face Xaden. "If you even think about touching me, I swear I'll fucking kill you." My power flares with my rage and lightning cracks across the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud. "I think she means it," Liam warns. "I know she does." Xaden's jaw ticks as our gazes collide and hold. "Everybody, go back to the shore. Now." He watches me with apprehension as he draws closer. "I know what you're thinking," Xaden says in that deceptively soft voice of his, and there's a flicker of fear in those onyx depths.

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'.

"Stay away from Xaden Riorson son."

Screamin' from the crypt

But I see him sitting about a third of the way across the narrow stone bridge, staring up at the moon like it somehow adds to the burden he carries, and my heart fucking hurts. He had the lives of all one hundred and seven marked ones carved into his back, taking responsibility for them. But who takes responsibility—takes care—of him? … Everyone across the ravine is celebrating his father’s death, and he’s out here mourning it alone. When Brennan died, I had Mira and Dad, but Xaden’s had no one.

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

"When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail?" a guy toward the back asks. My blood turns to ice. The murmur of assent among the group sends a jolt of terror down my spine. "Yeah, Xaden," Imogen says sweetly, lifting her pale green eyes to him. "When do we get to finally have our revenge?" He turns just enough for me to see his profile and the scar that crosses his face as he narrows his eyes at Imogen. "I told you already, the youngest Sorrengail is mine, and I'll handle her when the time is right." He'll... handle me? My muscles thaw with the heat of indignation. I'm not some inconvenience to be handled. My short-lived admiration of Xaden is over. "Didn't you already learn that lesson, Imogen?" The look-alike Xaden chides from halfway down the circle. "What I hear, Aetos has you scrubbing dinner dishes for the next month for using your powers on the mat." Imogen's head snaps in his direction. "Her mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder."

"Her mom is responsible for the capture of nearly all our parents," Garrick counters, folding his arms over his wide chest. "Not her daughter. Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish."

"So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college-" Imogen starts. "In case you didn't notice, she's in the same death sentence of a college," Garrick retorts. "Seems like she's already suffering the same fate."

So I justified it

But though she’d be the best thing that ever happened to me, I’d be the worst thing that ever happened to her.

It turned into something bigger… Welcome to the revolution, Violet…

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed In the chaos of the flight field, Xaden constructed an all-marked squad. And they're all. Fucking. Traitors. And I fell for it. I fell for him. My chest threatens to cave in as it truly hits me. This is so much worse than just Xaden betraying me, betraying our entire kingdom. How was I ever foolish enough to trust him? How did I ever fall for him? My lungs ache and my heart screams. This can't be happening. I can't be this naive. But I guess I am, because here we are. His entire body is a fucking warning, especially the dark relic that's so glaringly visible on his neck right now. His father may have been the Great Betrayer, may have cost my brother his life, but Xaden's treachery cuts just as deep.

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

"I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I'll get the point."

"Are you trying to bring me to my knees? Or win the argument?" His hand flexes at my hip as his heated gaze sweeps over me.

"Yes,"I answer, reaching for the ties at the small of my back that secure my armor. "I just spent eight hours terrified of what condition I’d find you in, and I’m telling you that I don’t just want you. I need you. There are your three words." I tug the wet string, and it gives. "That’s all you get. Take me or leave me."

Soldier down on that icy ground,

He lifts the blade, and I don't just skate over the ice. I become it.

"Stop!" Sgaeyl roars, blowing back Berwyn's robes. "Do not do this to save me!" Do this? It's already done.

How fucking dare they pull my dragon from the sky, snare and hurt the one who anchors my existence. I throw my blades into the air, fall to one knee, splay my hand over the canyon floor, and break.

Shadow brings quiet. My soul departs like pieces of ash from a fire, flaking free and drifting away as power consumes the space it once inhabited. I'm no longer on the ice—l am the ice.

Looked up at me with honor and truth,

"How long do you think it takes for someone to fall out of love?" He studies the skyline. "A day? A month? I'm asking because I don't have any experience with it." What the fuck? I fold my arms to keep from giving in to the impulse to jab him with the sharp point of my elbow. "I'm asking," he continues, his throat working as he swallows, "because I think it will take you all of a heartbeat once you know."

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops.

"You're alive. No matter what happened in this room, what was said, you're alive and that's all that matters."

"I didn't break," I whisper. "Dain... He saw right before he stabbed Varrish, but I didn't break, I promise." I shake my head, and my vision blurs then clears as water trickles from my eyes.

"I trust you." He cradles the back of my head, his beautiful gaze boring into mine, swallowing me whole. "But it wouldn't matter to me if you had. We're leaving. I'm getting you the fuck out of here."

I blink. "We can't go now. They'll follow us, and Brennan's not ready." My face crumples. "You'll forfeit access to Basgiath's weapons—"

"I don't give a fuck. We'll figure it out once we're there."

"You'll lose everything you've worked for." My voice breaks. "Because of me."

"Then I'll have everything I need." He lowers his face, leaning in so he's all I see, all I feel. "I will happily watch Aretia burn to the fucking ground again if it means you live."

"You don't mean that." He loves his home. He's done everything to protect his home.

"I do. I'm sorry if you expect me to do the noble thing. I warned you. I'm not sweet or soft or kind, and you fell anyway. This is what you get, Violet—me. The good, the bad, the unforgivable. All of it. I am yours." His arm wraps around the small of my back, holding me steady and close. "You want to know something true? Something real? I love you. I'm in love with you. I have been since the night the snow fell in your hair and you kissed me for the first time. I'm grateful my life is tied to yours because it means I won't have to face a day without you in it. My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I’ll meet Malik at your side. It's a damned good thing that you love me, too, because you're stuck with me in this life and every other that could possibly follow."

My lips part. It's all l've ever wanted, ever needed to hear. "I do love you," I admit in a whisper.

"Glad you didn't forget." He leans in and brushes his lips over mine lightly, careful not to hurt me. "Let's get out of here together."

That was the night I nearly lost you,

"You don't know that she'll be all right. No one does." It's been three fucking days, and Violet hasn't woken up. Three never-ending days l've spent in this armchair, walking a knife's edge between sanity and madness, studying every rise and fall of her chest just to be sure she's still breathing. My lungs only fill when hers do, and the time between my heartbeats is filled with sharp, all-consuming fear. She's never looked fragile to me, but she does now, lying in the middle of my bed, her lips pale and chapped, the ends of her hair duller than their usual bladelike hue. For three days, everything about her has felt as though the life was leached from her body, only a shadow of her soul left beneath her skin. But today, at least, the morning light shows her cheeks have a little more color along the darker line of her flight goggles than yesterday. I'm a fucking fool. I should have left her at Basgiath. Or sent her with Aetos, even if it strained Sgaeyl and Tairn. She never should have suffered the punishment Colonel Aetos delivered. For a crime she didn't even know I was committing. Didn't even suspect. Looking back, there were a thousand tiny moments that pulled me over the edge for the woman asleep in the bed I always pictured her in. And I never told her. "I should have done a lot of things differently." What I shouldn't have done was fought my feelings for her. I should have grabbed on to her after that first kiss the way I wanted and kept her at my side, should have let her all the way in. My eyelids scratch like sandpaper each time I blink, but I'm fighting sleep with every bone in my body. Sleep is where I hear her heartbreaking scream, hear her cry that Liam died, hear her call me a fucking traitor over and over. She can't die, and not just because there's a chance I won't survive. She can't die because I know I can't live without her even if I do. Somewhere between the shock of our attraction at the top of that turret to realizing she risked her own life by giving up a boot for someone else on the parapet that first day to her throwing those daggers at my head under the oak tree, I wavered. I should have realized the danger of getting too close the first time I put her on her back and showed her how easily she could kill me on the mat—a vulnerability I've allowed no one else—but I brushed it off as an undeniable attraction to a uniquely beautiful woman. When I watched her conquer the Gauntlet, then defend Andarna at Threshing, I stumbled, stunned by both her cunning and her sense of honor. When I burst into her room and found Oren's treacherous hand at her throat, the rage that made it so easy to kill all six of them without batting an eye should have told me l was headed for a cliff. And when she smiled at me after mastering her shield in mere minutes, her face lighting up as the snow fell around us, I fucking fell. We hadn't even kissed, and I fell. Or maybe it was when she threw her knives at Barlowe or when jealousy ate me alive seeing Aetos kiss the mouth l'd dreamed about countless times. Looking back, there were a thousand tiny moments that pulled me over the edge for the woman asleep in the bed I always pictured her in. And I never told her. Not until she was delirious with poison. Why? Because I was scared to give her power over me when she already held it all? Because she's Lilith Sorrengail's daughter? Because she kept giving Aetos second and third chances? No. Because I couldn't give her those words without being totally, completely honest with her, and after the way she looked at me at the lake, the utter betrayal—The rustle of sheets makes my gaze whip to her face, and I take my first full breath since she fell from Tairn's back. Her eyes are open. "You're awake." My voice sounds like it's been dragged across gravel when I thought it'd only been my heart. I stagger to my feet and take the two steps that separate me from her bedside. She's awake. She's alive. She's...smiling?

I really thought I lost you…

They'll question me again-keep me prisoner to lure Xaden, even—but they'll never let me leave here alive. This place I called home, the halls I walked with my father, the Archives I worshipped alongside the gods, the field where I flew with Tairn and Andarna, the halls where I laughed with my friends, and the rooms where Xaden held me will be my tomb. And the boy I used to climb trees with along its river will be my demise. I sag, the last of the fight draining out of me in defeat. I don't dare to even swallow as I hold the asshole's gaze. I won't die afraid. Tairn. Andarna. Gods, I hope they survive it. Xaden has to live. He just has to. I love him. I should have told him every day, been honest about my feelings even through the fights and the doubt. Now instead of giving those feelings back to Xaden, they'll die with me.

We can plant a memory garden

"Violence?" I look out my window at the infinite black sky and change the topic, my eyelids growing heavier by the second. "Why did you guess I could wield lightning?" He stretches just enough to tuck my head under his chin. "I thought you did it the first night Tairn channeled power to you, but I wasn't sure, so I didn't say anything. night Tairn channeled power to you, but I wasn't sure, so I didn't say anything."

"Really?" I blink, thinking back, but my brain is full of a pleasant, dull hum as sleep fights to pull me under. "When?" My eyes drift shut. His arms tighten around me as he tucks me closer, the backs of my thighs pressed tight against his pants as I start to drift off.

"The first time you kissed me."

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

When I wake, Xaden is gone, but that's not exactly a surprise. Him staying the night to begin with? Now that was the shocker.

Finding a jar on my nightstand with a handful of spring violets? My heart swells. I'm in so much fucking trouble.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

..."What did you do?"

And we will never go back

"What you asked me to."

[the-eternal-child]

Just noticed something...

This part of Iron Flame noting how Riders are usually discouraged from politics and are discouraged from keeping their family seats.

Xaden's grandfather who was Sgaeyl's former rider was said to have died without making it out the quadrant. We know assassination attempts on students with powerful parents happens. So maybe this was an assassination carried out because of the power dynamics mentioned above. The future Duke of Aretia being a rider? Bonded to one of the strongest dragons out there?! It's what I'm thinking because why else mention the fact that he died while in the school? Info drops like these are purposeful.

My first question is timeline wise... WHEN did he have Fen 🤣🤣?!! I'm assuming he wasn't married since you can't get married until you leave... Unless he was married before entering the quadrant. Maybe marriages don't play that much of a part in the legitimacy of heirs for the Tyrrish 🤷🏾‍♀️.

Next question is, was this a case like Aaric? He found out what was going on and decided having a dragon would help the effort to fight the venin?

It brings me back to my questions in a previous post wondering about how much the Tyrrish know.

They're described through out the series as having been the last to join the unification, seen as troublesome or prone to unrest by Navarrian leadership, the Tyrs describe themselves as being 'loyal to their own' which makes me think of the kind of cultural identity people have when they're discriminated against...

It seems like the Tyrrish have been aware of the fate of the continent for a long time - or maybe only their leadership? They maybe have always had issues with Navarrian rulership decisions and being last to the party of unification and objecting to things would give them the reputation of being 'too proud' or 'thinking they're too good to submit to the king'.

Maybe Fen grew up being aware why his father died and decided to try another route to change. Let us become our own country so we can deal with this problem ourselves.

And the Navarrian top brass like Markham were just waiting to finally have a reason to drop the hammer on the Tyrrish people. Crushing a rebellion is one thing... But to raize a capital city to the ground?! A city described as having been beautiful?

Seems like a purposeful psychological blow to the people. Very publicly defame your beloved leader, take out almost everyone affiliated even loosely with the rebellion planning - Liam's father's execution even though he wasn't involved, and I bet he wasn't the only family member to get that treatment - they'd even wanted to execute the damn children! Cripple their financial centre by burning the capital, which would give them something else to focus on in the years to come, trying to rebuild their lives!

They humbled them, invalidated the claim they fought for, crippled them financially and painted a target on their back for the disdain of the rest of the kingdom. Amber Mavis was literally described as 'one of the good ones' because her family didn't take part in the rebellion!

Jesus fking christ!! Someone stop me! Cue 'make it stooooopp!!' screams like Jeremiah 😅😅

The more I think about this damn series the more insidious things start to look, the more glaring Navarre's crimes. The Tyrrish are entitled to freaking reparations man 😭😭!!!

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter III

The sun is up when we stand in formation the next day while Captain Fitzgibbons reads from the death roll. The courtyard is hollowed in almost deadly silence.

We’re all in our assigned uniforms for first years with our patches added and while some of us look like they got a decent amount of sleep last night, I didn`t and I feel like I am ready to be send to Malek. But my mind was running on high speed and I was way too paranoid to sleep, ready for the (mostly im)possible scenario someone might try to pull some shit at night, even though it would be against the Codex. Violet next to me looks like she struggles but is keeping her head high. She is strong which makes me proud.

“We command their souls to Malek.” Oh, we were at the end already.

“Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you`re not going to get another chance before lunch” Dain says, “and I hope at least one of you first years has the academic schedule remembered.”

“And if we’re not?” someone behind us says. Is he dumb?

“Then I don`t have to be concerned with forgetting your name” Aetos shrugs. Well.

“Sawyer” he looks to the left at a first year. Ah, Sawyer Henrick, the freckled guy that repeats the first year because he didn`t bond during Threshing last year. It takes some balls to do this shit again, he has my full respect.

“I`ll get them there” he answers and turns to the nine of us first years. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don`t be fucking late” he shouts and heads off to the dormitory.

“This must be shit, doing this again” Rhiannon states.

“Better than being dead” the guy from before claims as he walks on my right side. I think his name is Ridoc but I am not sure. I look around, not saying anything and make my way to the dorms, not noticing that Violet isn't by my side anymore. In her place walks Rhiannon. “Where-“ “Dain” she says before I can ask. Damn Aetos, so much for being subtle.

We`re off to grab our (and Violets) stuff and head over to the academic wing for history, which is going to be boring for both Violet and myself. Violet was trained to be a scribe, so she knows it all, and I had to study everything anyways, order from my father.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief” Professor Devera greets us. This will be the only class we`ll have every day.

She takes her time to scan the rows of first years, looking at every cadet she sees, while the second and third years are scattered behind us.

At first, she makes eye contact with Violet next to me and gives her a small smile and nod but when her eyes find mine, she tenses and stops. For around three second it`s quiet, then she nods and continues. Rolling my eyes, I look to the left at Violet, seeing a concerned frown adorning her face. I send her a reassuring smile and turn back to the front where Professor Markham stands. He looks at Violet with disappointment, not because of her personally but the lost chances with that great brain of hers. She would have been an excellent scribe.

His gaze sways over to my side and just like with Panchek, his face pales instantly and fear strikes his facial features, not because of me but the one I share my last name with. Letting out a frustrated sigh I switch my focus on my quill, distracting myself before I start to scream out of annoyance. For fucks sake, I am NOT my father. Why is everyone acting like he rules the fucking continent?

“First topic of the day,” Devera moves to the map “the Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and their riders.” Oh damn. I sit straighter and focus on the map. Good thing when you have an excellent working memory – you can focus more on the front, less on your notes.

She gives further information and I take it all in. It’s bad enough that dragons aren`t the only animals capable of channeling powers to their riders. But the dragons are the only ones of powering the wards that makes other power impossible within these wards. They make sure we aren`t fucked up by the gryphons and their riders.

“…What questions would you ask? Only answers from first years for the start.”

Okay first of all, why the fuck are the wards faltering and more importantly what caused them to falter in such an unlikely place? They would never answer that question because none of us is authorized in that matter.

The second question would be, why they would choose this place for an attack? The Esben Mountain Range is the highest on the eastern border and the gryphons don`t go really well with altitudes like this. Furrowing my eyebrows, I try to find a pattern in the latest attacks. It doesn`t make any sense. But maybe … maybe they were searching for something.

“Did you want to ask a question?” Devera asks Pryor, a first year in our squad, who doesn`t really knows if he should raise his hand or not.

“Yes” he nods. Then – “No. Never mind.”

“So decisive” Luca, another first year from our squad, mocks him. Aurelie tries to ease the tension but Luca is not done with her teasing.

“No dragon is bonding to a guy who can`t even decide if he wants to ask a question. And have you seen –“ I scoff loudly, rolling my eyes at her demeanor to finally bring an end to this shit, which makes her turn around in her seat a row in front of me. If some of them are already kind of terrified with my face here, why not use it?

Her eyes meet mine and she realizes who interrupted her. She quickly turns back to the map without saying anything anymore.

I hear Violet and Rhiannon whisper to each other but don`t understand anything.

“What altitude is the village at?” Rhiannon finally asks. Oh, that`s a good question, matches with mine I had in my head. It`s Professor Markham who answers, surprised by it. “A little less than ten thousand feet, why?”

“It seems a little high for an attack with gryphons.” Good safe, because now I just realized that the question came from Violet. Smartass.

“… to ask your own questions, Cadet Sorrengail.” Shit, I need to start listening and try not to zone out all the time. Seems like the girl next to me has now all the attention on her. Great job, Vi.

Violet goes on about how this altitude is way too high for gryphons and their ability to channel. Looks like a thought crosses her genius brain as her next question is based on Devera’s information that the squad of riders took an hour to arrive.

“Then they were already on their way” she says. And while I can see what she is talking about – the rest of the first years decide to judge instead of thinking, some of them start to laugh.

“Yeah, because that makes sense” a blonde guy turns around in his seat to laugh directly in her face. Jack fucking Barlowe, the asshole that threw a candidate down the Parapet tried to kill Violet and still has it out for her.

“General Melgren knows the outcome of a battle before it happens, but even he doesn`t know when it will happen, dumbass. Am I right, Melgren Junior?” His eyes find mine when an evil smirk finds its way onto his face. Don`t fucking tempt me, asshole. I am not interested in a conversation with you.

My lack of response seems to annoy him because he tries it again. “I said, am I righ-“

“There is no need to repeat yourself. I ignored you just fine the first time.”

Stunned silence from Barlowe, startled gasps from other cadets, choked laughter from Ridoc. “Oh shit, that was good, Arya!” he laughs next to me and clasps his hand on my shoulder. Yeah no, I don`t think so Ridoc. I should try to keep my mouth shut with that one before I'll regret it.

Violet ignores my remark and continues with her theory and it seems like she is right, because Devera and Markham both look proud and with a knowing smile on their face. “Because they somehow knew the wards were breaking” she finishes.

“That`s the most-“Jack argues. Does he ever know when to stop?! “She`s right.” HA! I have a proud grin on my face, I love her brain!

“Cadet Melgren” I am called by Devera. Startled I raise my head, brow hitting my hairline.

“What would you ask in aspect of the attack?” she asks me. For a moment I study the map again, trying to sort my thoughts.

“What were they looking for and most importantly, did they find it?”

A slow smile spreads over Deveras face and even Markham looks intrigued by my question. “What makes you think they were out looking for something?”

“Well, it just makes sense they searched for something. Like Cadet Sorrengail said, the attack took action at the most illogical place for a drift of gryphons.” I pause, bringing my thoughts into formation. “The wards failing was not a coincidence and even though it seems like they were just passing by, they weren`t. They somehow knew the wards would falter in that specific moment. But whatever they were looking for, it must have been really important if they risk their drift to attack this high up in the mountains.” I finish.

I can hear Ridoc next to me cheering quietly in his seat. And while the first and some of the second years don’t think that far yet, I am pretty sure some of the third years had a similar question in mind, because I hear approving whispers behind me. Years of learning and studying are finally paying off.

“Just like your father. Always thinking ahead and seeing the important aspects. Good job, Melgren.” Everyone else would see it as a compliment but … 

I hate it, with all my heart, because I desperately want to be everything but like my father. Violet takes my hand, knowing how much I hate to be compared to the General.

[nerdanel01]

No. 2 - Aostrolf's Weed (NSFW/18+)

“Is this okay?” she took the care to ask him, almost sweetly. Something a little self-conscious and worried in the look she gave him. “This is still okay?”

Maker. It’s better than okay. It’s a wanting more edged and hot than he has ever known, a pleasure so deep he might lose himself in it. It’s too good; it isn’t right at all. He knows that no matter what promises he has made, he is going to be imagining her like this for the rest of his life: beautiful thighs spread on either side of his hips, flush of arousal across her chest, pert breasts, his cock in her hand—ready, he can only assume, to ride him raw because he did not fuck her hard and fast enough the first time, as she had been asking him to. 

He is tongue-tied, too thick with need to answer with words. But his hands found her hips and guided her downwards, both of their groans echoing off the walls of the Necropolis as she sank around him, taking him fully inside of her in one slow, steady, deliberate press.

The pleasure is staggeringly total: his toes curl; his back arches off the floor; his hips drive up to meet hers. His eyes rolled back as his eyelids squeezed shut, his jaw slack, mouth open wide to let loose a groan that is nothing short of obscene, loud enough to echo through the vast hall of the Necropolis without. 

And that’s just the feel of her—but the sight of her, look! The tension in her thighs and her core as she lifts herself only to seat herself fully around him again; the messy curls of dark hair spilling over her shoulders and around her face and the curled patch of dark hair between her legs; the bounce of her breasts with each of her thrusts. Strange, how it still feels a move too bold to touch her—but she has no reservations about touching him. When Agnes caught him staring, she smiled, bit her lip, did not quite bite back her moan of satisfaction; lifted her free hand to hold his face, her fingers brushing his cheek so reverently, so gently—far more gently than the force with which she rode him. When her thumb swiped low along the curve of his chin, Emmrich opened his mouth and captured it, gently but firmly, between his teeth. 

[read full fic]

—

I’m really proud of all the writing I did this year! So for the last ten days of 2024 I’m going to be reblogging my 10 favorite pieces that I wrote.

I think this is the longest single smut one-off I've ever written?? It got so out of hand??? It inspired a whole spin-off series I had 0 intention of writing???? And compared to other pieces it was so easy to write— a real joy.

The fic owes a lot to two other sex pollen fics I'd HIGHLY recommend—firstly, a Solas x Trevelyan one, which is mind-numbingly good and (I think??) can still only be found on the Kink Meme/LJ. It's so good I spent over an hour and $22 trying to find it in all those comments again just to rec it here, and it was worth every minute and penny. I was for sure heavily influenced by the absolute crash from erotic to devastating at the end. Not gonna put the author on blast since it was filled anonymously but if they are seeing this: this is one of MULTIPLE of your works I still think about years later and I hope you are thriving. And SECONDLY, oh my god, @bdafic's Solavellan sexpollen fic, Aphrodisia. YES IT'S UNFINISHED, I DON'T CARE, GO READ IT ANYWAY. I am sometimes literally just doing things around my house like, walking my dog, or washing my dishes, and the reveal in this fic hits me over the head AGAIN and I have a little chuckle at Solas' expense thinking of him hiding his embarrassed, red face in his hands… and then I just stare into space like, wow. wow. Incredible. 13/10. I won't spoil it for you, but it's so hot, and so funny. Multiple outloud belly laughs reading it. Incredible Dorian and Varric banter at the top. And @bdafic's Ellana is one of my fave quizzies. I never would have put all that work into Aostrolf Van Markham if I hadn't been inspired by the absolutely insane world building this fic spoils the reader with. START YOUR 2025 OUT RIGHT! RUN DON'T WALK!!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Baby: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression, wanting to die, being shot

Summary: You're trying to prove to Sam and Dean that after two months of having your soul restored, you're all better. You'll gladly play the part if it means they don't worry about you. However, that facade is slowly being stripped away from you the longer you go without facing up to those feelings. You're not okay and you need to stop pretending like you are.

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

She makes a sharp turn into the woods and drives over a few loose rocks, jerking you in your seat. More blood spills out from the wound, and you press your hand to it as hard as you can. She parks the car, gets out, and yanks the back door open. She grabs Dean's hand and handcuffs them behind his back before looking at you. There is no way you're going to end up fighting her when you're fighting for your own life. She grabs the head from the trunk and walks over to the deputy's body. You turn your head to see her fixing him. She is reattaching his head to his body.

"Dean, wake up," you groan.

"Y/N?" Dean groans.

"She shot me, Dean. I can't..."

Dean lifts his head as best as he can to see blood spill out between your fingers.

"Y/N, heal yourself. You can do this. Focus on healing yourself."

"I can't," you cry. "I can't do it."

Mrs. Markham and Deputy Donnelly pile into the car with the deputy behind the wheel and Mrs. Markham in the passenger seat. As he is driving, he keeps looking back at you and Dean curiously. You're trying not to bleed out and Dean is trying to think of a way out of this with both your lives.

"I know you two are hunters," he sneers.

He reaches behind him and pulls Dean up so he's sitting instead of lying on the seat face down.

"I know you're a Nachzehrer. The maker, right? The pack Alpha?"

"Maybe you're not as dumb as you look."

"Thought you and yours like to keep a low profile."

"Sadly, rookies like Lily here aren't up to snuff when it comes to keeping their feeding quiet," he glares at Mrs. Markham.

"You killed your husband?" Dean asks.

He looks at you who is just trying to hold it together. The bullet didn't hit anything major, you don't think, but if you don't get medical help soon, you're gonna die.

"He wouldn't join us. People who don't join are food. I messed up, and I didn't bury him right."

"It's my fault, really. You weren't properly trained, but everyone deserves a mulligan, don't they? That's all my people were trying to do, Lily. They weren't going to kill you. Hell, I need you. I need all the help I can get."

"How many have you turned?"

Dean spots a hairpin on the seat from Sam's joyous hookup and tries to use it to free himself from his cuffs. He continues to look at you to make sure you're awake as he works.

"In the first hundred years? Three. In the last month? Sixteen."

"What, are you trying to field a baseball team?"

"It's like I said, I need help, every strong hand I can find. I need an army to fight the Darkness." Dean's face falls at the mention of Amara. "Oh, it's coming for all of us. There's nothing hunters or any human can do about it."

"Do you know how to stop it?"

"I don't think anything can stop it. I'm just trying to buy some time so I'm turning as many strong men and women as I can. Your brother will make a fine addition to the rank and file." He holds Dean's phone up. "I had Lily send him a text message from your phone. Oh, he's heading into a trap right now. You'd make a good soldier, too, but you cut off my head and I can't stand for that. Don't worry. I'm an every part of the buffalo kind of guy. Your death won't go to waste. You'll be your brother's first meal."

"What about me?" you bite out painfully.

"You're already wounded. No point in trying to save you. You'll be my meal," he grins with his fangs out.

Dean gets the cuffs off and attacks the deputy from behind. Dean wraps his arms around his neck and tries to choke him out, causing the car to swerve and crash into a construction zone. The crash is enough to jerk you around hard enough to knock you out. When you come to, every single window is shattered, the deputy is through the windshield, Mrs. Markham is lying on the floorboard in the front, and Dean is slumped over the back of the front seat. You moan painfully and look at Dean who is just now waking up.

Dean sits up and rubs his head as he takes in his surroundings. Your cry of pain is what jerks him into focus, and he slides closer to you. You're pale and shaky and still bleeding over your fingers.

"Y/N, you need to heal yourself."

"I can't. I can't do it, Dean," you cry.

The deputy stands up and glares at Dean through the shattered windshield. There is a huge piece of glass stuck in his cheek and blood everywhere but he is weakened. It doesn't matter if he is a monster or not, anyone going through the windshield of a car is going to hurt badly. There is a small Hello Kitty purse on the ground but Dean doesn't question why it's there. He grabs it and finds pennies inside. He doesn't know if one of them is before 1982 but hopes there is.

Deputy Donnelly jumps back into the car and punches Dean hard in the jaw. He knocks into you, causing your hand to slip and more blood to come out. Your head is dizzy and your breathing becomes more ragged. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe I'm meant to die here.

Lily wakes up and joins in on the fight, and she wraps her arms around Dean's shoulders. She pulls him onto the front seat and gets a better grip so that her arms are now around his neck. Deputy Donnelly jumps out of the car and wretches the driver's door open so he can grab Dean's legs. Dean kicks him in the face and elbows Lily's jaw as hard as she can. She yelps out in pain and falls out of the car onto the hot asphalt.

Heal, Y/N. Heal yourself. Every time you think about using magic, your entire body gets flooded with fear. The magic that came from the Scarlet Witch is still inside of you. Your soul prevents it from coming out. You're scared of using it and turning back into her. The tears have stopped coming only because you're starting not to feel any pain which means you're closer to death than you realize.

You look to the right and see Billie standing on the side of the road just staring at you. She's waiting for you to die. If you die, she is bringing you to the Empty where nothing ever escapes. Dean punches Deputy Donnelly and pins him to the front seat where she shoves every penny he grabbed from the purse into his mouth. He keeps his hand over his mouth so the deputy doesn't spit them out even though he tries.

Dean yanks the deputy out of the car by his feet and slams the door repeatedly on his head, eventually decapitating him. He doesn't move a single inch once his head has been chopped off which means one of those pennies just so happened to be made before 1982. Dean opens the door and tosses the head onto the ground at the same time as Lily wakes up.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," he mutters to his car.

"Dean," you whimper.

"Y/N!" Dean rushes around to the other side of the car, the same side Lily is on. "Y/N, I know you're scared. I know you're terrified of using your magic but you need to heal yourself. Baby, you're gonna die if you don't."

"I can't," you cry. "I can't, I can't. I can't do it. Dean, I'm dying. Maybe this is for the best."

"No, you don't get to say that!" He curses. "Don't worry, we'll get you fixed."

"Oh, my God. What have I... My kids. My kids. They turned my kids. They're with the others. Please," Lily begs.

"Sam," Dean whispers.

"Dean, get to Sam. I'll be okay. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Hang on, Y/N. Don't you dare die on me."

Dean and Lily hop into the front seat, and Dean tries to start his car. After the damage she's sustained, she doesn't start right away. He tries two more times before she springs to life, and Dean rolls his head in relief. He reverses the car and swiftly turns the car like he's Mr. Fast and Furious. He's so smooth with it that you barely even move from your spot.

I can't do it. What kind of witch am I if I can't even heal myself? I'm broken.

Dean drives as fast as he can to the place where Lily's kids are being held, the ones that Deputy Donnelly had turned to create his army with. Lily runs to her children while Dean helps Sam who is also beaten up.

"We gotta go. Lily shot Y/N and she can't heal herself."

"What?"

Sam rushes to the car and sees the ghostly look on your face. You're slumped over with your eyes barely open and mouth parted. Dean opens the door and moves your hand which is nearly ice cold. He peels back your shirt and sees blood oozing from your wound. He reaches around and tries to feel for an exit wound but finds none. The bullet is still inside of you doing as much damage as it can.

"We need to get her to a hospital."

"No hospital," you mutter. "Castiel..."

"You won't survive the twenty hours it'll take to get home."

"I'll stay in the back with her. Just drive."

Dean peels away and races down the street to the nearest hospital. He all but slams on his brakes when he gets to the emergency room side, and Sam gently lifts you from the car seat and tries not to make your wound worse.

"Please help my wife! She's been shot!" Nurses immediately flock to Sam and Dean with a stretcher and medical supplies. They try to help the brothers but Dean swats her hand away. "We're fine. This is fake blood. We were in the middle of filming a video. We're fine. Just help her."

You're taken into emergency surgery to fix the bullet wound. You're lucky they took you in when they did because an hour later, you would have been dead. Your heart stopped once during surgery but they succeeded in bringing you back without additional complications. Sam and Dean did everything they could to convince the nurses that you were accidentally shot while they were filming because they'd hate for the police to be involved.

You're placed in the ICU to recover but there is no way Dean is going to keep you here, not when there is an angel waiting for you at home that can heal you. Dean doesn't know how Sam does it but you're discharged from the hospital hours later. You sleep the entire ride back home, only waking when you feel Dean's lips on your forehead.

"What happened?" you mutter.

"We'll talk later. Right now, we gotta get you to Cas."

Sam runs into the house for the angel while Dean helps you out of the car. Pain spreads from your side and tears roll down your cheeks. Maybe I deserve this after what I've done. Just let me die. Sam and Castiel walk into the garage minutes later, and Castiel approaches you with concern written all over his face. He places a hand on your shoulder and uses his powers to heal you.

Just like that, you're no longer in physical pain.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like you care," you snap.

You push your husband away and head into the house, and Dean stops the angel from following after you.

"Let her go. Just give her some space."

"Was it something I said?"

"No, she's having a hard time is all. This was a bad day for her."

You cry silently as you walk to your kids' rooms. Noah is already in his own bed but the girls are both snuggled in Joanna's bed. Molly is sitting on the edge of the bed telling them a bedtime story, and you pause right before you enter their room so they can't see you. I'm such a bad mother. I'm a bad witch. I'm a bad hunter. Why the hell am I still around?

No one wants a mother who is broken.

You sigh silently and leave them alone to go to your room. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[mageofquandrix]

i was going to say fight fight fight then saw necrorizzard about choked so. that one.

Ha, can you tell I have a middle schooler?

Anyway, this is part of my canon playthrough fic. It takes place after the confirmed interest scene, but before the romance lock-in, in Emmrich's romance.

As always - first draft! Please be kind!

Emmrich expected the dining hall to be full of people, so he was surprised when the door, propped open to see Rook standing by the stove with Manfred in an otherwise empty room. 

He stood at the doorway taking in the scene for a moment. Lucien’s sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and the collar to his shirt hung open. He was barefoot in trousers that had been nearly hemmed. He was demonstrating something at the stove for Manfred, who was hissing happily.

“Pardon my lateness,” he said, and he joined them by the stove, setting the little basket of side dishes on the work bench. “Or am I early?”

“You're right on time. Everyone had plans tonight, so I taught Manfred how to make flatbread, like a proper Navarran.” Manfred made a happy trill, and held up a plate of misshapen, singed little breads. 

-

(Now, the necrorizzard part)

“Oh, undoubtedly” laughed Emmrich, as he brought the wine to the table. “I’ve never been accused of being lacking in romanticism. I admit, in my grander moments, imagine you racing your way across Thedas, hot on the Dread Wolf’s trail and a heartbroken lover at every port. However, I promise not to be too disappointed when I hear the cold reality of it.“

Lucien barked out a laugh, his hand slapping the table with the force of it. “Good, because I assure you, we were always many steps behind Solas, and there was a distinct lack of lovers, heartbroken or otherwise” he shook his head and chuckled, wiping a bit of moisture from his eyes.

“Well, I find that hard to believe,“ said Emmrich, clearly surprised as he poured them both the glass of wine. “A young man such as yourself, and with all your charm? You surely must have caught eyes in a tavern or two, at least.”

“I doubt it,” Lucien insisted, shaking his head. “I used to get that sort of attention, though less than you seem to be imagining. But I’m afraid my luck with any of that went the same as my eye and Baron von Markham during the War of the Banners.” He gestured vaguely to the scarred side of his face before fishing out a dolma.`

“I was under the impression that scars were commonly considered attractive,” argued Emmrich, his brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, giving Lucien a considering look that made Lucien turn the right side of his face away.

“A scar or two, sure,” said Lucien, his voice clipped. “But Emmrich, be serious. Everyone knows there’s a great difference between the line of a knife or two, and having the side of your face burned off.”

His voice had gotten louder the longer he spoke, and when he stopped, the silence echoed, a thick awkward tension settling in it. Lucien sighed and shook his head at himself, then busied himself digging through the dips and spreads, setting them out. “Oh, excellent,” he said, plainly trying to fill the silence. “I love these. You’ve excellent taste.“

“Lucien,“ Emmrich began slowly, ignoring his overture. “I apologize, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, it’s all right,” reassured Lucien, and he smiled kindly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not your fault. I- well. I suppose I’m a bit sensitive about it. I hadn’t considered vanity one of my flaws, but this experience has taught me otherwise. All the worse that it’s my own fault.” When Lucien laughed, it was a hollow sound, and he looked to the fire as he took a long sip of his wine.

“Lucien.” Emmerich put a hand on Lucien‘s arm and looked at him seriously, until finally Lucien looked back at him. “I assure you, you are still a very beautiful man.“ He held Lucien’s gaze, and his manner was so serious, so clearly unallowing any argument, that Lucien’s protests died in his throat. He tried to look away instead, but a finger caught him under his chin, tilting his head so that Emmrich was looking him in the eye once more. His gaze was heavy, and Lucien found he didn’t feel so much pinned as settled, somehow, beneath it. “A very beautiful man.“

“Well,” Lucien finally said, after the several long moments it took to make his tongue to work again, “if you think so-” His hand went up to take the fingers holding his chin. “Then I suppose I'd rather not dissuade you.”

He brought Emmrich’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of his knuckles. The feel of the rings against his lips briefly brought to mind the image of a knight pledging himself to a lord - a notion that didn’t feel quite as absurd as it should in this strange cocoon of tension they’d built. Emmrich gave him a hooded look, the one that always made his stomach swoop, always made him look away, blushing. But this time, Lucien didn’t look away; he held his gaze, even his heart raced and he swallowed thickly around his tongue. 

When pulled his lips away, he kept hold of both Emmrich’s hand and his gaze, gently stroking the back of his knuckles with his thumb. “I feel as though I must tell you,” he said, and when had his voice gotten so quiet? It seemed beyond his ability to speak any louder. “That I also find you to be a very beautiful man.” 

There was a pop in the fire that made him startle, and he released Emmrich’s hand quickly, clearing his throat, and taking a long sip of his wine. When had it gotten so warm in the room? “Um, what was I-” he started, a bit lost. When he glanced to Emmrich for help, he had to quickly look away when he saw the heated look Emmrich was giving him.   

[note:gotta be a different word for this, look is 3x in the sentence]   

From the corner of his eye, he saw Emmrich’s lips turn up in a satisfied smile. He hadn’t realized wine could be sipped smugly, but that was the only explanation for how Emmrich drank from his glass “I believe you were going to tell me about your adventures,” he supplied, his voice dropped an octave. Lucien squirmed in his seat, and firmly ignored the eyebrow that raised, even as his cheeks went hot.

[age-of-moonknight]

Interested to hear what your thoughts on the 2021 run's use of villains is considering how wildly different each one was from arc to arc

Ooooh, thank you for sending an ask! Especially since it's always fun to revisit the 2021 run. Also because, I must confess, I tend to not give the rogue's gallery their due so I appreciate the excuse to really buckle down and focus on them for a change. :D As it seems to be the case with a lot of my responses, things got a little long, so a list of all the villains in Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021) to help me keep track of things and my miscellaneous thoughts on matters are included under the cut. Thanks again!!!

The villains of the 2021 run are as follows:

The Structure (including Tutor, Nemean, and Grand Mal): #1, #13-14, #16-18

Zodiac ("Terry"): #1, #5-7, #11-12, #18-19, #25, #27-30

Vermin: #1

Hawley (the janitor with the sweat thing): #2

Rampage (Stuart Clarke): #4, #25

Jigsaw (Billy Russo): #4, #11

Manslaughter Marsdale: #7, #25

Stained Glass Scarlet (Scarlet Fasinera my beloved): #8

House of Shadows (The Midnight Mission): #9

Waxman: #10, #25

Rutherford Winner: #10, #25

Black Spectre III (Robert Plesko): #18-#19, #25, #27, #29-30

Commodore Donald Planet: #19

Harlequin Hit-Men (Herb and Sheila Hollister): #19-20

Sarnak: #21, #23, #25, #27-29

New Enforcers: #23

Morpheus (Robert Markham): #24

Man Mountain Marko: (bonus: Devil's Reign: Moon Knight) #25

Black Spectre II (Ryan Trent): #25, #27-29

Vibro: #26-27

With honorable mentions to

Hunter's Moon who definitely wasn't a villain but who did represent a generally antagonistic force in issues #1 and #3

The real antagonist of issue #22 being Marc thinking it would be a good idea to dress up as Midnight Man, steal money, and lie to Greer

,,,,and to 8-Ball who pops up in issues #1, #7, #20, #25, #28, and #30

Now that that's all sorted, two things really stuck out to me about the villains Mr. MacKay chose to use in vol. 9: A. the EXTREME deep cuts and/or throwbacks and B. how quite frequently, the identity of the villain didn't matter as much as whatever else Moon Knight had going on interpersonally in that issue.

This is me just conjecturing here, but I would propose that Mr. MacKay could get away with inserting honestly downright obscure villains, such as the Harlequin Hit-Men, or villains that aren't particularly developed beyond their cool power set, such as Grand Mal and Nemean, because Marc having to reckon with the murder of old comrades or finally have a decent conversation with Jake and Steven (issues #20 and #14 respectively) is where all of the emotional investment was for those issues; the big, classic comic book punch up was almost window dressing at that point for the issue's real conflict and the villains could have been practically interchangeable. I would also go so far as to suggest that the encounters with Hawley the janitor in issue #2 and the relatively less obscure Waxman in #10, Jigsaw in #11, and Zodiac in #12 were predominantly to establish Marc's moral limits as a hero and had comparatively little to do with the villains as characters themselves. Personally, and this might be because of my own slight biases where I tend to not focus on the villains on much, I find it commendable that MacKay as a comic book writer was able to craft some gripping stories where a good deal of the narrative momentum came from interpersonal dynamics and knowing one's own self in a genre that pretty consistently relies on flash without the narrative feeling too slow or,,,,navel-gaze-y. Again, this might just be my opinion, but it feels appropriate for Moon Knight comics, which have always been a little contemplative with Moon Knight's complexities being a major draw. The fact that MacKay then used that structure to sometimes bring back bronze age villains with fewer than five appearances made it all the more fun for us comic fans who like such deep cuts hahaha

This is also not to say though that there weren't some cases of "author very purposefully chooses a specific character to reveal something about the hero." There's Hunter's Moon who, when acting antagonistically to Moon Knight, represented what it could look like for Mark to really fully give himself over to Khonshu (issue #3). Then there's also Mr. MacKay's tendency to bring back old villains and tweak them a bit to reflect Moon Knight's development as it was progressing in vol. 9. A positive example is the House of Shadows (RIP) which moves on from just being a despised entity cursed with unlimited resurrections to having a new purpose in helping the community. Scarlet Fasinera (RIP), however, is an instance of how a champion for justice can begin to lose humanity in a warped life after death, a common ominous theme in vol. 9.

One other character that necessitates a little discussion is Robert "Sigmund" Plesko with his return as the third Black Spectre. Am I particularly compelled by Plesko's motivation apparently being that he "became bored with being a mere observer...a minnow in [Moon Knight's] wake" of shark-like destruction (#30) and decided to try his own hand at creating a little chaos? I'm only admitting this because you asked for my thoughts as this is veering into personal opinion territory aslkdfj, but I don't personally find such a motivation interesting for a villain, especially after he was built up as being the ultimate antagonist of the volume. I am nonetheless majorly compelled by A. how Mr. MacKay plucked Plesko out of the twilight issues of Marc Spector: Moon Knight as I'm always a sucker for supporting characters making a comeback, B. how he wove Plesko into Marc and Frenchie's history with Bushman as I am also always a sucker for a reference to the wild dog days, and C. that of all characters, Mr. MacKay chose to bring back the guy that Marc Spector: Moon Knight's #55's creators used to suggest for the first time in comics (that I've found) that Marc had "an extremely complex multiple identity syndrome" (the early 90's were rough). Plesko's motivations as a character may have been a little rough, but I love how he is another variation on a theme that has been popping up in Moon Knight comics since the very first volume: no matter what March does, he can't escape his violent past, he can only confront it when it rears its ugly head and starts threatening to do damage again (with Marc's willingness to do so even to the point of occasionally dying in the process being one of the things I find most personally intriguing about his character).

As for some additional miscellaneous notes:

They essentially had cameo roles, but I did appreciate Mr. MacKay's inclusion of Black Spectre II (Ryan Trent) and Morpheus. I love a bonafide Moon Knight villain.

I realized that I haven't discussed the Structure much despite how prevalent that organization was in the first half of the volume and I guess that's because the exact details of the Structure wasn't quite as important to me as the fact that they were vampires !!! I love when Moon Knight comics blend the street-level with a little bit of the fantastic as that is a niche that is so incredibly Moon Knight™️ to me. So between that and how they're the reason why we have the lovely Reese as a reoccurring supporting character, I'm grateful for how they served the story even if they didn't leave the biggest impression on me.

[stenoodie]

Too Good to Go Surprise Bags in January 2025

Too Good to Go Surprise Bags in January 2025. #cakebag #finallygotthemetroseafoodbag #cakeboxes #japanesedonuts

Ten of the surprise bags from Too Good To Go in January 2005 A fun app to try new restaurants and stores is called Too Good To Go.  Restaurants and stores will assemble “surprise bags” of unsold food items and sell it on the app for a third of the original retail price.  You can help reduce food waste this way too!  Continue reading Too Good to Go Surprise Bags in January 2025

[mercurygray]

22) a stolen pearl necklace & 11) yellow silk with Daphne? :)

Thanks for requesting Daphne, Andy! I hadn't written her in such a long time and this gave me a good reason to take a second look at what happened in between seasons with Mike.

It had been two months, and there had been no news.

Daphne had known, deep down, that this would always be the case; official telegrams were for wives and mothers, not girlfriends you could not admit to aloud because they were from the wrong social class. The SAS as a whole were not letter-writers, and she doubted that if they'd had news they would have thought to share it with her. Mike was lost to her, and to the desert, possibly, and that was just the way things had to be. The war went on, and she would have to go on with it. She'd had her cry - had several, even - and then returned to the stiff upper lip that everyone expected for the part she'd been playing for the last year, still the same as she had always been - lovely Miss Markham-Reed, daughter of the attache, bright spot at parties, always willing to dance, no one serious, trying to write a novel. Unattached, never been in love, never lost anyone she'd cared about.

"What's this? Daphne not dancing? I thought I'd never see it." The jovial voice was one she knew too well - a puckish dark-haired man about her age, one of only a few in evening dress as opposed to a uniform, grinning at his own joke. "Where are all your swains this evening?"

"They all knew I was waiting for you," Daphne shot back, all too familiar with the concept of returning fire. That was the trick with men like Peter Stirling - never let them see you down or on the ropes. He knew her better than most - being on the Embassy staff would do that - but never what she would call a friend. Sparring partner, perhaps - erstwhile ally, if she was stretching a little. Men who weren't in uniform needed those as much as unattached women did. "And your handsome friend," she added, casting a smile at the taller gentleman behind him, who seemed vaguely familiar in a way she couldn't quite place. (Handsome might have been a stretch - the word she wanted to use was sharpened. He seemed to be all angles and jawline and beautifully creased trousers.)

"Have you not met my brother yet? Forgive me," Peter clarified, seeing Daphne's eyebrow rise. She'd met David Stirling, and this was not he. "My other brother."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"Well, I'm afraid it's true, Bill, you're very much the other brother when you're here in Cairo. Sad fact of showing up fourth, old boy. This is Daphne Markham-Reed - the daughter of our number two at the embassy. Quite the woman to know, aren't you, Daphne. Get you an invitation anywhere."

"I have that reputation," Daphne admitted. "Whether it's true is up for debate. So, what brings you to the desert, Lieutenant Colonel Stirling?"

"Bill's just taken over Dave's old outfit," Peter shared with obvious relish.

"You're taking on the SAS?" The question dropped out before she could help herself, her surprise too earnest, and she felt Bill's eyes focus intently on her.

"You're familiar?"

For a brief moment Daphne thought of Mike, brushing sand from the roots of his hair, tanned and lean and tender. I was more than familiar. But that was her secret to keep, not his to know, and she brushed it off quickly. "Everyone in Cairo knows the SAS - if they read the police reports," she said, smiling. "Or if they ever went to a party with David Stirling," she added, just to see Peter grin and Bill grimace a little, and felt herself relax. "Every woman in town's been told to watch out for white berets."

"Yes, they do have rather a reputation, don't they?" Peter was egging his elder brother on again. "Not helped by…certain elements in their leadership. I've been telling Bill he's got his work cut out but I'm not sure he believes me. Maybe you can …persuade him to see sense."

"I'm not sure anyone's ever successfully persuaded a Stirling to do anything."

Peter laughed and patted his brother's shoulder. "How well you see us, Daphne. She's writing a novel, you know - got to put all those keen observations somewhere."

"You're a writer?" Bill had a look of polite if also glacial interest, and Daphne put on her most polite and effacing smile. No one's ever successfully impressed a Stirling, either, if you're anything to go by. That had been the case with David, too - though in his case it had been more a case of never stopping to listen to his dance partner.

"I had a few short stories published last year - under a nom de plume, of course. Little things for women's magazines. Nothing serious." That was true, actually - if she was going to continue saying she was a writer, it would help if she actually wrote things. They'd been junk, really - torrid short stories for the women's weeklies back home for bored housewives to devour while they were waiting for the dinner to cook. The editor had praised her exotic details and pressed for more stories of wartime life abroad. Mike had laughed while he'd read her drafts and pressed her for more details about her women of the week - does she find the stolen pearls? Does the dog come home? How many children will they have when he gets back to blighty?

But these were not things that men like Bill Stirling cared about. He was already scanning the room for other faces, other opportunities - a dim debutante writer was outside his scope. And that's just how I want it. Men will say all sorts of things to women they underestimate - Peter does it all the time. "We should go," he said, noncommittally. "I see General Smith."

"Save me a rumba," Peter said with a grin by way of parting shots, and left happy to trail after his tall, spare stick of a brother.

Daphne watched them go, casually moving closer towards the shade of the bar. The woman next to General Smith was wearing a horrid shade of yellow silk that certainly made her stand out against the rest of the crowd but also gave the woman the appearance of being ill. And malaria's not exactly a fashion statement.

"I know what you're thinking," someone said extremely conversationally, settling into the chair next to hers with a glass in hand. "That's a horrid color on her."

"I said nothing of the kind," Daphne said reasonably.

"But you were thinking it, darling, because it's true. Very few women can really pull off yellow silk."

"Are you speaking from experience, Colonel Clarke?"

Clarke snorted. "That tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, young miss. And anyway, I'm very aware of my limits." He glanced down at her blue crepe. "This is lovely, by the way - is this new?"

"You've seen me in it before," Daphne assured him. "But the brooch is new."

"Ill-gotten gains from your latest sale?" The head of military intelligence inspected the gold bauble with care. "Very pretty. I see you met the new Stirling in town."

She took note of his tone, the note of almost-careful censure. "Not the man you would have picked?" She knew parts of the story about the origins of the SAS, gleaned from Clarke and Mike and others. Perhaps one day she'd hear it in full - or not.

"David Stirling wasn't the man I would have picked, for starters, nor is Paddy Mayne, but picked they have been, and Bill Stirling has been, too, and much luck may we wish him with it. Though I don't really think he'll need it," Clarke added with a small smile.

"Are you joking?" Not need luck with the SAS? The men who disdain tradition and order, and him? A toff with immaculate creases in his trousers and a face that wouldn't know what a joke was? They'll eat him alive.

Clarke might have agreed with her, but he also looked like he had something amusing on the tip of his tongue. "What if I told you he used to play the game?"

Daphne stared - 'the game' meant only one thing. Bill Stirling, work for the Special Operations Executive? Ungentlemanly warfare where? "You're still joking."

"I never joke about work," Clarke said with an insulted expression. "One of the first men they asked - ran training for a long time, in Scotland. There are many missing pages from his file, but there's enough there to be interesting. Guerilla tactics - evasion, interrogation…counter-intelligence."

She thought about this for a moment, what he was really saying. "You think they're running him?"

The intelligence officer made a vague gesture. "I think that every so often, GHQ actually know what they're doing. No one's told me, of course, as is their right, I suppose. But you never really get out of that line, do you?" Clarke looked across the room like he was contemplating a painting, or the meaning of a poem. "They could have given it to a hundred other men they wanted to ruin or rob, and instead they pick the brother who can play the martinet to Mayne's mad dog."

She, too, followed his gaze, trying to taking it in with new eyes, Peter's pleasant bonhomie and Bill's cool reserve - everything as predictable as can be. Everyone who knew David would assume they knew him - the detached older brother, unemotional and aloof, far better at playing politics than he was at planning, a man at home behind a desk. And they'll all underestimate him - just like you did.

Would it work? The desert demands the truth in a man, Mike used to say, and it doesn't suffer fools or delusions. But they won't be fighting in the desert, Daphne thought to herself. Someone called her name across the room, and she set aside her drink to answer, ready to be the sparkling smile once more. Perhaps Italy will be easier on liars. Cairo certainly isn't.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 1: Matt

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warnings/Tags: No real warnings thus far -- This is going to be a pretty angst-free fic.

Word Count: ~6,300

A/N: Welcome to Angel of God, My Guardian Dear! This started out as a 1-shot and quickly spiraled out of control, as my thirst for Matthew Michael Murdock could not be contained.

For the purpose of this story, Reader is Catholic and grew up at St. Agnes with Matt.

Title is from the Catholic prayer "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide, Amen."

"All set to go to Lavelle?" 

Matt Murdock turned his head as his friend and business partner, Foggy Nelson, came into his office. "Yeah, just need to finish up here and I'll be on my way."

"It was really cool of them to ask you to come speak," Foggy added.

Matt nodded. "I hope I can help these kids realize that their disabilities don't define who they are and that they can be whoever and whatever they want to be, including lawyers."

Foggy huffed out a laugh. "Or crime-fighting vigilantes?"

Matt grinned. "Well actually, there's probably only room for one blind crime-fighting vigilante in this city, so I probably won't suggest that as a potential career path."

Foggy patted Matt on the shoulder. "You're a great speaker, I'm sure you'll motivate the heck out of those kids. Have a good time, dude."

"Thanks, Fog."

Matt grabbed his briefcase, headed outside, then hailed a cab.

"Alright, where we goin'?" The cabbie asked.

"The Bronx," Matt answered. "Lavelle School for the Blind."

The cabbie tapped on a screen, presumably putting the address into his GPS. "Alrighty, just sit tight and we should be there in about half an hour."

Matt sat back as the cab began to move.  Think of it like a jury, Karen had said when Matt had told her and Foggy about the opportunity over a couple of pints at Josie's a few weeks before. Just a younger, way more judgmental jury.

Matt had laughed. Not helping.

You'll do great.

He mentally practiced his speech during the ride and before he knew it, the cab was pulling up in front of the school.

"Thanks," Matt said as he paid the cabbie.

"No problem," the cabbie replied. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too."

Matt headed inside.

Almost immediately, a somewhat familiar voice asked him, "Hi, may I help you?"

Matt turned towards the voice. "Hi, yes, my name is Matthew Murdock. I'm one of the speakers for today?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Murdock, I'm Dr. Bowman, we spoke on the phone."

Matt nodded, now placing the voice. "Right, right."

"We'll be in the meeting hall, which is straight down this corridor. If you'll just come with me…"

Dr. Bowman led Matt down to the meeting hall. "We really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to speak to our students," she said as they entered.

"It's really not a problem."

"The students and their parents will be starting to arrive in a while, but if you'd like we could have someone escort you around to the exhibitor tables once they're all set up."

"Yeah, maybe."

"We have a Braille program if you'd like one -- it lists all the speakers and exhibitors for today."

"Yeah, I'd love one."

"Okay, one second."

Dr. Bowman stepped away for a minute then returned, handing Matt a booklet printed on Braille paper. "Okay, here you go."

"Thanks." Matt pointed to a nearby table. "Is it okay if I sit over here?"

"Yes, of course. Just let us know if you need anything."

"Will do."

Matt sat at the table and began to read the program. Staff, sponsors, speakers, exhibitors…

He began to read the exhibitor list. American Council for the Blind, representative Ashley Prewitt. VISIONS, representative Clay Markham. NYC Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities, representative Barbara Franklin. Andrew Heiskell Braille and Talking Book Library, representative Y/F/N Y/L/N --

Matt froze and read it again. Could it really be the same Y/N?

Y/N, who at 8 years old had taken 9-year-old Matt, who had just arrived at the orphanage, by the hand and declared that she would be his friend. Y/N, who had giggled when Matt had asked her a few days later if she was an angel and replied, 'no, silly, I'm a girl!' . Y/N, who had been Matt's fiercest protector and had gotten into almost as many fights as Matt himself had. Y/N, who would stroke Matt's hair softly until he fell asleep on the nights when he would sneak into her room because all the stimuli flooding his senses became too overwhelming. Y/N, to whom Matt had taught Braille so they could pass secret notes to each other without anyone else being able to read them. Y/N, who 17-year-old Matt had held while she cried the day they found out that Y/N had been taken in by her long-lost aunt and would be leaving Saint Agnes… and him. 

Y/N, his own personal guardian angel, the one person in the world Matt could tell everything to… except the one thing he had wanted to tell her most of all.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"I don't want you to leave," he admitted quietly as he and Y/N stood at the entrance to St. Agnes.

"I don't want to leave either," Y/N replied. "I wish you could at least come with me."

Matt chuckled wryly. He had overheard one of the nuns talking to Ms. Y/L/N earlier that morning, warning her about 'that Murdock boy' and telling her how it was best for Y/N to be separated from him 'before he gets her into trouble'. "I don't think your aunt would go for that."

"Then can we run away together instead? We could travel the world, just you and me on the epic best friend adventure that we've always dreamed of." 

God, Matt wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N by his side, be it as his best friend or -- as he knew deep down in his heart -- something more.

However, Sister Bernadette had been right. Y/N really was an angel sent from on high who deserved all of the goodness in the world, and Matt… Well, Murdock boys had the devil in them.

He shook his head sadly. "Your aunt's waiting. You should go."

Y/N was quiet for a few moments. Finally, she said, "Before I go… I got you something."

She took Matt's hand and dropped a thin, wiry chain into his palm. "I saved up for six months to buy it from the church's gift shop. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but…" She trailed off. "Anyway, think of me when you wear it, okay?"

Matt picked it up with his other hand. Attached to the chain was a small cross. 

He nodded. "I will. Thanks."

"I'll write to you, give you my aunt's address." Y/N pulled him into a tight hug then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you, Matty."

"I'll miss you too. Goodbye, angel."

Matt waited as half of his heart climbed into a cab and left, the note he had written to her the previous night still in his pocket.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt mentally shook his head. Don't get your hopes up. It may not be her.

…But deep down he knew it had to be.

He stopped someone who was walking by. "Excuse me, can you tell me if the representative from the Heiskell Library is here yet?"

"Umm…" the woman paused as she turned towards the exhibitor tables. "Yeah, actually, it looks like she's talking with Dr. Bowman at the moment."

"Okay, thank you."

"No problem."

As the woman walked away, Matt turned his head so he could listen in on the conversation.

"...So glad you could be here," Dr. Bowman was saying. "We really appreciate you taking time to come out and speak with our students and their parents."

"It's no problem, Dr. Bowman," the other voice replied. "I'm always happy to promote the library's services."

Matt sucked in a breath. It *is* her. 

Even after all the years that had passed since he had last spent time with Y/N he had never forgotten the sound of her voice, the times he had sat listening to her read to him still among his favorite memories.

Y/N and Dr. Bowman were wrapping up their conversation, so Matt stood and headed over towards them.

Either Y/N didn't notice that Matt was behind her or Matt had misjudged the distance between them, but Y/N turned around and bumped into him.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, sir, I--" Y/N gasped. "Wait, Matty?"

"It's just 'Matt' now, but yeah. Hi, angel." Matt was surprised at how easily his old nickname for Y/N slipped from his lips.

"Oh my God, hi!" Y/N wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "How are you? What are you doing here? Are you a teacher?"

Matt chuckled as he returned her embrace. "I'm well. I don't teach here, I'm actually one of the featured speakers."

"Oh, wow, that's wonderful."

"What about you? How have you been?"

"I'm well too, yeah. Oh my God, this is so crazy. Are you still in New York?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, still in Hell's Kitchen. You know me, I'm loyal to my city. What about you?" 

"Yeah, Florida was okay, but New York is home. I'm actually in Midtown West now, so I'm not far." Y/N paused. "Hey, would you want to maybe grab dinner or a drink or something after this is done, and I dunno, like, catch up? It's totally fine if you can't, I just thought maybe --"

Matt quickly shook his head. "No, no, yeah, I'd love to."

"Great! I'll have to run back by the library to drop all of my stuff off but I can meet you wherever after that."

Matt thought for a moment. "You still like Italian?"

Y/N let out a light laugh. "Of course."

"Then how about Bellissima Italia, over on 9th and 44th? That's near there, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great."

"Will 6:00 work for you? I'll make a reservation."

"That would be perfect. Here, let me give you my number in case something unexpected comes up. It probably won't, but then again, this is New York -- you never know what kind of craziness is going to happen next."

Matt chuckled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "That's very true."

He created a new contact and typed in Y/N's name, then added her number once Y/N recited it to him.

He hit the button to call her, hanging up after Y/N's phone began to buzz in her pocket. "There, now you have mine."

"Awesome. I have to get to my table, but I'll see you tonight?"

Matt nodded as the doors opened and people began to trickle in. "Yeah, definitely. See you tonight, Y/N." 

"Bye, Matt."

Wow, what are the odds? Matt thought as Y/N walked back over to her table. 

He pulled his phone back out and headed back into the hallway to make their reservation, then called Foggy.

"Yo, Matt, what's up?" Foggy said in greeting.

"Hey, Foggy, do you remember me telling you about Y/N back when we were in college?"

"Y/N, as in Y/N, your childhood friend from the orphanage who you talked about non-stop and are still hung up on 16 years later Y/N? 'The one that got away' Y/N? That Y/N?"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, that Y/N. Well, I actually just ran into her. It turns out she's a librarian at the Heiskell Library and is here promoting their library services, so we made plans to have dinner and catch up after this is over."

"Oh, wow, that's actually really awesome, dude. You said she works at the Heiskell Library?" 

Matt could hear Foggy sit down at his desk and start typing on his computer keyboard. "Yeah."

After a moment, Foggy said, "Damn it."

"What is it?"

"I knew she was gonna be hot!"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Did you seriously just Google her?"

"I wanted to see what she looks like! You're a hot woman magnet, so of course your old childhood friend is hot. Is she single? Because if you change your mind about her…"

Matt just chuckled. "Not gonna happen. If I even remotely still have a shot with Y/N, I'm taking it." 

"Eh, I was just kidding anyway. Good luck tonight, man. Hope she's everything you remember her being and more."

"Thanks, Fog. I'll talk to you later."

"'Kay. Bye, Matt."

Matt hung up and headed back inside, both excited and nervous to catch up with Y/N later that evening.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt smoothed down his hair for what seemed like the tenth time as he arrived at the restaurant for his catch-up dinner with Y/N. 

He took a deep breath and headed inside.

"Buonasera," the seating host said. "Welcome to Bellissima Italia. How many in your party, sir?"

"Actually, I have a reservation for two at 6, under 'Murdock'," Matt replied. 

"Ah, yes, sir. Your companion's already arrived. Right this way."

Matt followed the seating host to where Y/N sat.

"Matt, you made it," Y/N said, standing and giving Matt a hug.

She had changed from the blouse and slacks she had worn earlier into a silk dress that hugged her form, and underneath the subtly floral perfume she wore was her familiar natural scent that had never failed to relax Matt when he was overwhelmed. Even now he could feel his nervous energy starting to calm.

He returned her embrace. "Hi."

"Joseph will be your server tonight," the host said as they sat. "If you need anything let us know."

"Thank you."

Matt folded up his cane and stuck it in his jacket pocket. "I hope you haven't had to wait long."

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago."

Their server walked up to their table. "Good evening, my name is Joseph and I'll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink?"

"Can I get a glass of Pinot Grigio and a water?" Y/N said.

"Certainly, ma'am. And for you, sir?"

"I'll take a glass of Merlot and a water as well, thanks."

"Okay, certainly. I'll get that taken care of for you while you get a chance to look over the menu."

"Do you know what you want, or do you want me to read the menu to you?" Y/N asked as Joseph left.

"Actually if you don't mind telling me what's on the menu I'd really appreciate it," Matt replied. "I didn't get a chance to check it out before I came."

"No, it's not a problem at all." Y/N picked up her menu. "Let's see…"

Matt listened intently as Y/N quickly read the menu off to him. He nodded. "Okay, thanks. I think I know what I want."

A few moments later Joseph returned with their drinks. "Okay, here you are. And are we ready to order?"

Matt nodded. "I'm ready. Y/N, you want to go ahead?"

"Yes, I'd like the gnocchi in cream sauce, please," Y/N said. 

"Okay, and for you, sir?"

"I'll take the chicken parmigiana, thanks." Matt picked up his menu and handed it to Joseph.

"Okay, I'll put those in for you right away."

"Wow, I still can't believe this," Y/N said as Joseph left once again. "It's been, what, almost 20 years?"

Matt nodded with a grin. "Yeah, something like that. And even after all this time, you still look exactly the same."

Y/N laughed. "I'm glad to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor."

She took a sip of water. "So, catch me up on the past 20 years."

Matt shrugged. "Not much to tell. Left St. Agnes at 18, went to Columbia and got a law degree, opened my own practice with my college roommate, and that's about it." Except for the fact that I also became a crime-fighting vigilante, sent a mob boss to jail, and took down a secret organization of ninjas.

"Not married, no kids?"

Matt shook his head. "No, never found the right person." Because I already had found her but was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt before she left. "What about you? What have you been up to?"

"Finished high school in Florida, got my bachelor's degree in sociology, did my MLIS, and became a librarian. Did five years as a special services librarian in Florida, two in Indiana, then I managed to get on with the Heiskell Library and have been there ever since."

"No marriage or kids for you either?"

"No kids, almost got married once but it didn't work out. Wasn't anyone's fault, we just weren't right for each other."

Matt nodded. "How's your aunt?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's still in Florida so I talk to her every few days. Wait till I tell her I ran into you."

Matt gave a wry smile. "I dunno if she'll be happy about that. She didn't like me."

"What do you mean she didn't like you? She didn't even know you."

"She didn't have to. She had heard enough about me from Sister Bernadette to form an opinion."

"Ugh. Sister Bernadette. She did always seem to have it out for you."

Matt shrugged. "Well, in all fairness, I was kind of a troublemaker."

Y//N laughed. "Yeah, but I was usually right there with you in whatever trouble you were making, if not starting the trouble myself."

Matt grinned and took a sip of his wine. "You mean like the time we stole that bottle of Communion wine out of the church storeroom?"

Y/N laughed. "You know, that was the first thing I mentioned during confession after I started going to church in Florida. Seal of Confession or not, I wasn't about to confess to Father Reynolds about it."

Matt grinned. "Afraid of a harsher penance?"

"Yes! It was bad enough having to say five Acts of Contrition and three Our Fathers that time I punched Bobby Neyland in the face for tripping you in the hall. I had already gotten detention and I had to apologize to him, what more did they want?"

They were interrupted by Joseph bringing their dinners. "Alrighty, we have the gnocchi over here, and the chicken parmigiana here. Careful, those plates are hot. Is there anything else I can get you two?"

"No, I think we're fine," Y/N replied. "Matt?"

Matt shook his head. "We're good for now."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do."

"Anyway," Y/N said, "we weren't always getting into trouble. Most of the time we were perfect little angels."

Matt chuckled. "I think your memory is faulty. You may have been an angel, but I certainly wasn't."

"We did have some good times together though, didn't we, Matty?"

Matt nodded, the quiet times he got to spend with Y/N floating through his mind. "Yeah, we certainly did."

The conversation continued to flow easily as Matt and Y/N reminisced about their childhood, and the next thing Matt knew dinner was over.

"Will that be one check or two?" Joseph asked as he cleared their plates.

"Just the one check, thanks," Matt said, handing Joseph his credit card before Y/N could protest.

"Next time, I'm paying," Y/N replied as Joseph went to go take care of the bill.

Matt grinned, thrilled that Y/N had even mentioned a 'next time'. "Deal."

He signed the check once Joseph returned for the last time, then unfolded his cane as he and Y/N stood. "May I walk you home?"

He could almost hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she replied. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." 

Matt extended his arm. "Then shall we?"

They left the restaurant together, the ease and familiarity they once shared still there.

"So, what made you decide to become a librarian?" Matt asked as they headed towards Y/N's apartment building. "Last I knew you wanted to go out and save the world by becoming a big-time CEO of a Fortune 500 company."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Um, well, actually, it was you." 

Matt's eyebrows raised. "Me?"

"Yeah. When it was time to start thinking about college I spoke to my guidance counselor and told her about how my best friend was visually impaired and how I'd sit and read print books to him because there weren't any Braille or audiobooks in the orphanage where we grew up, and so she told me about how there were actually special library services for people with visual impairments and that maybe I should look into special services librarianship since I seemed called to that."

"And do you like it?"

"Yeah, more than anything. Like a lot of people might think that being a librarian is boring or an obsolete job, but you should talk to some of my patrons, Matt. They're all alone with no family or friends nearby, so listening to these audiobooks are the only things that they have to do all day. It's actually kind of heartbreaking."

Matt nodded with a soft smile. Y/N really was an angel.

"And I know I'm not like, saving lives or changing the world or anything," Y/N continued, "like by being a doctor or by helping innocent people who've been wrongfully accused of crimes like you and your partner, but I feel like I'm at least helping people in my own way, you know?"

Matt turned towards Y/N as they stopped at a crosswalk. "You think you haven't saved lives? 'Angel' wasn't just a nickname, sweetheart. You befriended a lonely, scared, angry little boy with absolutely zero fucks given as to what anyone else thought, and to this day I'm still so damn grateful for whatever made you see me and decide, 'Yes, that one. I want him as my best friend'."

Y/N let out a watery laugh. "Honestly, it wasn't a tough decision. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be way cooler than everyone else."

Matt smiled softly. "You were my guardian angel, Y/N. I certainly wouldn't have made it without you."

He reached up and gently swiped his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the tears that had collected there. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah."

Matt slipped his hand into Y/N's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

They continued on their way to Y/N's apartment, Y/N seemingly as reluctant to let go of Matt's hand as he was to let go of hers.

"What about you?" Y/N asked. "What drew you to law?"

"I want to fight injustice and keep Hell's Kitchen safe, protect the people I care about," Matt said simply. "Going through the legal system seemed the best way to do that at the time."

"And now?"

"What?"

"You said 'at the time'. What's the best way now?"

Being Daredevil, Matt wanted to say. Protecting those I can't protect through the law. 

He shook his head. "I just know that everything's not as black-and-white with the legal system as I once thought."

"Yeah, I get that." Y/N slowed down as they reached her apartment building. "This is me."

Matt nodded. "I'm really glad we found each other again."

"I am too -- I've missed you so much, Matt. I tried to write to you after I moved but all of my letters came back 'return to sender'. Eventually I realized that they were returning my letters, but by that time it was too late, and it's not like I could just call up Sister Bernadette and ask for your forwarding address."

Matt shook his head. "I knew it. I knew something weird was going on. I could tell she was lying whenever I asked her if I had any mail from you."

"I still have them."

"The letters you wrote me?"

"Yeah, they're in a box in my closet."

"Can I read them?"

"Yeah, sure. You want me to go get them or do you want to come up for a drink and we can read them together?"

Matt nodded. "A drink would be nice." More time I can spend with you.

"Okay, then. Come on in."

Y/N led Matt through the lobby to the elevator and up to her apartment. "Make yourself at home," she said as she unlocked her door. "Living room is straight ahead, just mind the coffee table when you go around the couch to sit."

Matt sat while Y/N moved around her kitchen. "What's your preference?" Y/N asked. "I have wine, hard cider, amaretto, whiskey, rum…"

"Whiskey is fine. On the rocks."

He could hear Y/N adding ice to a couple of glasses then opening a couple of bottles, then smelled the scent of sweet & sour mix. "Let me guess. Amaretto sour for yourself?"

Y/N paused in her pouring. "How'd you know?"

"I can hear the difference in the shape of the bottles, and I can smell the sweet & sour."

"You're good." Y/N closed the bottles and put the sweet & sour mix back in her refrigerator. 

She handed Matt his glass before setting hers down on the coffee table. "Here you go. Give me just a second, I'll go grab the letters."

Matt took a sip of his whiskey as Y/N retreated to her bedroom.

She returned momentarily with a box. "Ok so remember, I was 16 when I started writing these, so don't judge me if they're cringy."

Matt chuckled. "I won't, I promise."

Y/N opened the box and handed him a manila envelope. "Here, start with this one. I'm pretty sure they're still in the order I wrote them."

Matt opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of Braille paper. "Can you still read Braille?" he asked.

"Yep, can still write in it too, although Braille printers make everything a lot easier these days."

Matt set the piece of paper on the coffee table and began to read aloud. 

"September 30, 2002

Dear Matty,

Just got settled in at Aunt Ruth's house. My bedroom here is as big as both of ours at St. Agnes combined. 

Hoping I can convince Aunt Ruth to let you come visit soon, maybe during Thanksgiving?

By the way, my address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Y/N"

Y/N snorted. "Yeah, 'I'm sure you'll be able to get away from the orphanage for a week or so to come hang out with your bestie in Florida!' Man, was I naive."

Matt shook his head. "You didn't know. Neither of us could've known that they'd actually try to keep us apart."

Y/N picked up the next envelope. "Here, I'll read the next one."

Matt nodded. "Okay."

"October 21, 2002," Y/N began.

Dear Matty,

I must've done something wrong with the postage on my first letter, because it came back marked return to sender. Adding double to make sure this gets to you.

Aunt Ruth wants me to join some after-school clubs, make some new friends. I don't want *new* friends, though. I just want you.

Speaking of making new friends, you know that song 'make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold'?  Well, it's not true. You're way more precious to me than gold. You're more like… I don't know, the rarest and most precious substance on earth, whatever that may be.

Anyway, address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190. Write me back!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt picked up the next envelope. "November 12, 2002.

Dear Matty,

Another letter came back return to sender. Don't quite know what I'm doing wrong, but hopefully this one reaches you!

School has been okay. Don't think I told you yet, but Aunt Ruth enrolled me in some fancy all-girls Catholic school. I'm really enjoying English class. We're reading The Crucible. Maybe next time we're together I'll read it to you. Think you'd like it.

Anyway, hope you're doing okay. I miss you.

Always,

Y/N"

Y/N laughed. "You know, my offer to read The Crucible to you still stands."

Matt grinned. "In that case I might have to take you up on it. You're still my favorite audiobook narrator."

He could hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she began to read her next letter. 

"January 10th, 2003.

Dear Matty (or is it just Matt now that you're the big 1-8?),

Happy birthday! I wish I could be there with you to celebrate. I wanted to surprise you and come visit, but Aunt Ruth said no. (Party pooper.)

I hope your day is amazing and that you get everything you wish for, because you deserve it! *Heart*

Miss you like crazy and I really hope to hear from you soon!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt shrugged. "My 18th birthday was fine, nothing overly special." I didn't get my wish, but now I know why.

He cleared his throat. "April 6, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I don't know if I did something wrong before I left and you're mad at me or if I'm just that inept at mailing a letter, but I just got a bunch of letters back unopened again. I really hope it's the latter because if it's the first, I don't know what I did but whatever it is, I'm sorry. Just please talk to me. I want my best friend back.

Y/N"

Matt's heart broke. Damn them. Damn them all to Hell for making Y/N think she could ever do something to make me not want her in my life. 

He finished his glass of whiskey before picking up the next letter.

"Want a refill?" Y/N asked.

Matt nodded. "Sure."

Y/N stood and went to make them each another drink while Matt read the next letter aloud.

"September 3, 2003

Dear Matt,

I don't even know why I'm still trying. You're 18 now, I'm sure you're not even at St. Agnes anymore. You're probably off to college and have made fancy new college friends, so even if this letter somehow reached you you probably wouldn't respond anyway, but I wanted to tell you goodbye anyway and to wish you good luck.

Y/N"

Matt's brow furrowed. "But there's more letters."

"Yeah." Y/N sounded hesitant as she set Matt's drink down on the table. "I never sent any of the rest though."

She picked up the next one. "December 9, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I'm sitting here in English class (well, not now since I'm writing this in Braille instead of standard print) and our bell assignment today was to write a letter to someone who is no longer in our lives. I'm sure the point is probably to write to someone who's dead, but whatever, I'll write to whomever the hell I want.

Aunt Ruth finally told me the truth: that St. Agnes had been returning your letters to me before you even got them. Needless to say, I'm furious. I don't understand why they would go to such lengths to keep us apart, or why Aunt Ruth would even agree to it.

I hope you don't think I never tried to get in touch with you, because the thought of you believing that I would just abandon you like that tears me up inside.

I miss you, Matt, and I hope you're doing well.

Y/N" 

Matt shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I hate that you ever even had to think that I would ignore your letters."

Y/N reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault."

They continued reading, Y/N telling him about getting into college, the classes she was taking each semester, graduation, getting into grad school and getting her library science degree, her first job as an official librarian… 

Y/N took a sip of her cocktail before starting the next letter.

"March 8, 2012

Dear Matt,

I've met someone . His name is Alex and he works in the I.T. department of the library. I think you two would get along -- you're a lot alike.

We've been dating for a few months now and things are going pretty well. I'll keep you posted as to where things lead.

Y/N"

Matt picked up the second-to-last letter. 

"January 13, 2013

Dear Matt,

Alex proposed, and I said yes. We're planning a fall wedding -- nothing big, just close family and friends.

I wish you could be there. I thought about asking Alex if he could look you up on the internet to see if he could find an address for you. Could you imagine? We haven't been in contact in over 10 years and suddenly you get an invitation to my wedding.

Crazy, right?

Y/N"

Even though Matt knew that things didn't work out between Y/N and her ex-fiancé, his stomach was still in knots as Y/N began to read her final letter.

"June 29, 2013

Dear Matt,

I ended my engagement with Alex today. We were touring wedding venues over the weekend but none of them felt right, and I realized this morning that it wasn't the venues that felt wrong, it was me.

You see, I can't marry Alex, not when-- " Y/N paused and took a deep breath.   "Not when I've been in love with you for most of my life."

Matt's brain screeched to a halt. What did she just say? 

"God, I'm so pathetic," Y/N continued, "pining over someone to whom I haven't even spoken in years. It's not fair to Alex to marry someone who's in love with another man and it's not fair to myself to keep holding on to something that I can never have. 

I guess I've kept writing to you in order to somehow hold on to you and to feel like we were still teenagers writing secret notes to each other, like maybe one day I'd have the courage to finally tell you how I feel.

I'll always love you, Matt, but maybe it's time for me to finally let you go.

Y/N"

Matt turned towards Y/N, who had picked up her drink and was currently draining it. "You were in love with me?"

Y/N remained silent, but the uptick in her heartbeat gave Matt hope. 

He took her glass from her and set it down on the table before taking her hand in his. "Y/N? Please, angel, talk to me."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I still am, Matt. I still love you. I never stopped."

Oh, thank God. "I love you too," Matt murmured. "I've loved you probably since the moment I met you, it just took me a few years to figure out what it was I was feeling." 

He pulled out the cross Y/N had given him out from under his shirt. "I've always kept you close to my heart, Y/N."

Y/N reached out and placed her hand on his chest, warming the metal cross pressing against Matt's shirt. "I was wondering if you still had that."

Matt nodded. "I've rarely taken it off in the past 20 years." 

He paused. "I was going to tell you I loved you the day you left for Florida. I had written you a note telling you how I felt."

"Why didn't you give it to me?"

"Right before I was going to I overheard Sister Bernadette talking to your aunt about how it was best to separate us so I wouldn't ruin your life, and I realized it definitely wasn't fair for me to tell you I loved you right before you moved a thousand miles away."

"What the hell? How would you have ruined my life?"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Well, let's see, the exact phrasing she used was 'before he gets her into trouble'."

"Before you 'got me into trouble'? Wait, did she -- did she think we were sleeping together ?" Y/N sounded both horrified and amused.

Matt shrugged. "Well, she wouldn't have technically been wrong."

"Well no, but all we ever did was literally sleep together!"

"Maybe, but it's not like I never thought about doing the other kind of sleeping together with you."

Y/N gave a playfully scandalized gasp. "Why, Matthew, I certainly hope you went to confession for that."

"More than once." Matt chuckled. "I mean, I was a hormonal teenage boy who was hopelessly in love with my best friend, of course my thoughts drifted there from time to time."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. "I wonder if maybe someone saw you sneaking out of my room one morning and reported us, and that's why Sister Bernadette thought something was going on. She could've confronted us though instead of just shipping me off and keeping us apart for almost 20 years. So much wasted time, and over what was probably a complete misunderstanding."

Matt shook his head. "Angel?"

"Yeah, Matty?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

Y/N sucked in a breath. "Uh huh, yeah, okay."

Matt reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, then -- after over 20 years of longing -- gently pressed his lips to hers.

He leaned back, a smile spreading on his face as he caressed the matching smile on Y/N's with his thumb. "So, how about dinner again tomorrow night?"

Y/N hummed. "What, you don't want to lose touch for another 20 years and hope we randomly run into each other again?"

Matt shook his head with a laugh at Y/N's teasing tone. "No way, angel. I spent almost 20 years without you, so now that I've got you back in my life I'm not letting go."

[meeville]

Onyx Storm live reactions

Okay so this is something I did while reading IF for the first time.

I listen to the books as audiobooks the first time through because of several reasons: I live in canada and I preorder through !ndigo, So my books don’t get shipped until the release date and I don’t get my books until at least a week later because they get shipped from Ontario and I live not close to there. And with audio books I can get them on audible for a credit and it will be there on the release date. I also started reading the series as an audiobook and I’m going to finish it as one. And the final reason: I can open my notes app as I’m listening and put my initial thoughts down immediately without having to stop reading to do so. So without further adieux, my live reactions to Onyx Storm as I thought them and sans context; read at your own spoilery risk. Most will be out of context but that doesn’t mean there won’t be spoilers.

“I’ve decided you can all go fuck yourselves” -vi

I’m in confusion

Give me answers Rebecca!!!!!!!

Oh your such a leader Vi lol stop doubting yourself I was so right about the leader of the people thing.

Cat so civil now it’s weird

Oooo first six lore interesting…

“Good times”- Ridoc lol

Quiet time Tairn

Poof and just like that Lola s gone

Ridoc and Xaden are a duo I didn’t know I needed lol.

“I’m afraid our daughter has atrocious taste in men” -Lilith lmao this is too funny

The Xaden effect lol

Ooo task force

Grady oooooo nooooooo

Welp cassy’s gonna be happy

Love ❤️

Awww Brennan

Ooooo jealous Imogen this is good

Eeeeee Felix gave her a new conduit

What’s this thing Mira made

Sib fight!!!!

Silver hair mentioned!!!!!!🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

There is so much politics and I’m so confused

Ridoc what’s it like to support the entire book on your humor

second wing’s assholery

Fuck yeah Aaric

Way to go Dain

Are you ever done Ridoc?

Come onnnn Violet come on

Nepobaby Aetos

Yessssssssss leader of the people!!!!!!

Ridoc never stop being you.

Devera, Emetterio and Kaori to the rescue

Running the gauntlet just for fun.

Awww Cat

Ridoc please

I state this now: Rhi and Ridoc are the best duo

Halden watch!!!!

Oooo I smell tension

O yes o yes ohohohoh

I know what’s coming

Aaric stays with his squad!!!!

Andarna hunting in the kings forest just for fun lol

I’m very confused

Poor Garrick

Ooofff

Fucking Ridoc

Quest squad!!!!!

Dyre omg I thought you was gone bro!!!

I figured it out ooooooo I know what they need sawyer for yes yes yesyesyesyes this is cool I like this plan tehehehe.

Ohhhh yessssssssssssss

Bodhi awwww

Both of them???

Lilith man I’ll start to cry bro

Oh Cat

Lol Devera is a hoot

FUCK AETOS SR

Well ship

People’s fucking leader

GENERAL??????

No Fucking way fuck him

Ohohoh Violet you’re smart. Very smart

O I like the queen.

Brennan!!!!!!!

Oh no well fuck.

Ffg called it.

Samara? Noononnnnononoooo well motherfucker

I think I already trust the commander of samara after one sentence. But he’s giving depression

That dream was horrific

Good choices were made

I too have eyes—Tairn lol

Oooo violence

A “fuck yes” from Tairn is very good

Aotrom!!!!!!

Not

Garrick?????

TAIRN!!!!!! Tairn tairn nononononon

Tairn

Oh oh oh

He’s okay

Oh my god

I’ll kick you in the face lol

You’re not kicking anyone lol

I fucking love Garrick

I think this is why RY does too.

They went through a fucking tornado

He’s a distance weilder isn’t he

Yesss vi

Wtf is an irred

How does Garrick have a second signet

‘My my’ lol

In front of the duke bro

I would not want to be you…—Brennan

Ooooooo we got another ‘well the fuck aware’

Ridoc is a man after my heart

Brennan Sorengail

You and me both Ridoc

Maybe I don’t like Grady

Yesss Imogen you badass

Aetos might be a sage

I also don’t think Jack is lying

And he’s still evil

At least jasinia will be on quest squad I think

Oh Sawyer

Oh that was a hint to my theories haza

Don’t encourage her- tairn

FUCK MARKHAM

2nd krovlen uprising mentioned!!!!!!!

Papa sorengail’s research

Oooohohohooooo

The babysitter program

Wow this task force is stupid

And they are sooooo going to fail

Ridoc N Xaden are so weird as a duo

Trayger and Cat???? Oooo I like this

Asher? Whom the fuck is Asher

OMG it her father

Ohhhh she so totally dated Halden

Also your a clown Ridoc

Imogen is smitten ooooooo

Ridoc those are inside thoughts bro

It’s fucking Halden

I called it he was in the infantry

Omg they were twins that makes so much sense

Alic and Halden were twins

Oooooo he cheated drama

Gem watch!!!!

First love is the dragon

Yeahhhh I really don’t trust quest squad

Ooops

Welp there goes Grady

Bye bye 👋

Bye bye Auryn

Character development for Ridoc !!!!!!!

Badassery for Ridoc

More development for Ridoc

Yesss Mira

I think I like tecarus

Ridoc’s humour is load bearing guys

Dealing in dragons

Tairn’s form of funny is scary

Cortland is direct

Well that’s grafic

Muther fucking leader of the people

Sassy andarna is so fucking funny

Oh is there something between Sloane and Dain????

Now that’s funny Mira

Sorengail lore!!!!!

They have the same hair

Momma riorson was on the isles

Betrayal Thalia

Ohohoh sneaky

Ridoc stop getting immpailed man

“I hate SEWING!!!!!!”— Ridoc

My least favourite îles too Garrick

Violet your so fucking clever

Asher Daxton I fucking knew it

This island has magic and is weird

Poor Trayger

Are they accidentally going to discover the irreds lol

They named the kitten Brocoli lol

Garrick your too sweet bro I knew I loved you

Okay so Ridoc and Aotrom match each other’s freak

Aww their so cute

Oh I was so right

Irrids

Haza

These dragons are rude.

And different

Tairn protecting Ridoc is so cute

I don’t like the irrids

There is no cure

No nononononon

Nonononononoooooooooooooooooo

Not Ridoc

I liked the queen.

Ohhh Ridoc

Dream-walking that’s interesting

Tairn nooooooo

Ohhhh Andarna don’t please

Noooooooonononononooooo

Awwww Tairn

Noooooooo

MIRAAAAA!!!!!! Fuck WTF WTF WTF

I thank fuck

We get a Rhi chapter?!!???!!

I like glane

Quinn nooooooooooo

Nonononononono

Why the fuck

Not Quinn

I think that was worse than Liam for me

Aaric is a precog that’s incredible

Fucking panchek

Traitor

IMOGEN WTF HAVE YOU DONE

MARRIED??? Really?

Oh I’m missing something and I don’t like it. Also where is Garrick.

[melisusthewee]

Six Song Soundtrack

I was tagged by @greypetrel for this one, and even though I've been dealing with... A Lot outside of tumblr/fandom, getting to go through my playlists for this was a nice low-key soothing exercise. Digging deep into the Dragon Age fandom for this one, tagging some people whose OCs and musical tastes always intrigue me: @theluckywizard @blarrghe @warpedlegacy @ndostairlyrium and @oxygenforthewicked

Lord Quinn Julius Barrington Trevelyan's Sample Soundtrack (Inquisition - Trespasser Edition)

Event that defines your character's past:

For The Wicked - Friday Pilots Club This is Quinn's adolescence as a Grand Tourney squire with Horatio Morris as best friends and troublemakers until The Incident with Quinn and his brother that pretty much defined Quinn's relationship with his family, himself, and changed the directory of his life into what it became.

Don't cry don't wait for me Don't pray for me A little space is all I need Yeah I think it's all I need [...] Vanity's for the wicked Yeah could you miss me now that I'm burning down Petty things for the wicked But do you want me now that I'm burning out

How your character sees themselves:

Dirty Imbecile - The Happy Fits Peppy, upbeat, and lyrically tortured.

Count my little scars; I’ve got dozens down inside I come complete and invincible behind my dirty imbecile All these things I’ve tried, boy: Be cute, be dumb, be wise, be young So don’t tell me what to fear in the darkness of this atmosphere [...] Darling, dearest, don’t you see I’m tough, I’m smart, I’m bourgeoisie And I’ll play out this lie until we’re all dead [...] Am I good? Is all I could enough for you? I’m so scared of when and where I’ll find the truth

How others see them:

Boheme Supreme - Tape Five Inquisitor Trevelyan at his peak! The first song I ever associated with Quinn and was the inspiration for his tarot card.

A gentle gentleman, the swellest guy A prince of fairy tales, a castle in the sky He smells like royalty, drinks more of ill Smokes a big cigar, he's always dressed to kill [...] Who is the dandy? Who is that man? Whose got tomorrow in the palm of his hands?

Their closest relationship (romantic or platonic):

Battle Cries - The Amazing Devil Cassandra was Quinn's canon romance during DAI and even though his relationship with Solas was both complicated and extremely important for the way the plot progressed*, his relationship with Cassandra cannot be understated or forgotten. It was a good romance. It was an important romance. And even though it didn't last, I think it was important for their individual growth. Quinn learned he had more of a heart than he thought he did even if it wasn't the right one for her.

I won't let you turn our last night into this I'm going to binge watch a box set, drink wine, reminisce This isn't a break-up, dear heart, it's a season finale [...] All it took to unearth in the dust and the dirt Some release or respite from the heat and the hurt Was taking the time now and then to ask how I am

*Solas' song would be relegated to a different six song playlist if I did Veilguard-era Quinn.

A major fight scene:

Guillaume Versus the Shaelmaar - Marcin Przybyłowicz I don't really have a lot of "battle themes" I listen to for Quinn. I think that DAI had some pretty great themes like The Descent's main theme and the Trespasser album that fit the important fights perfectly. This is honestly the only fight scene track I have marked down anywhere and even though it is for something that technically occurs during the events of DAI, it's from an unfinished WIP fic wherein the Inquisition sends a delegation to the Grand Tourney in Markham. A whole bunch of shenanigans ensue, ending in Quinn (disguised as Blackwall) faces off against his older brother Emile in the final lists. This would be the soundtrack of their David and Goliath type showdown. (One day I will finish that fic; I've done too much Free Marches worldbuilding not to.)

End Credits Song:

The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace - The Amazing Devil/The Other Side of the Sea - Kohta Yamamoto One lyrical song and one instrumental for the closing credits. Joey Batey's anguished voice is the perfect representation of where Quinn ends up in the aftermath of Trespasser. Originally this was meant to represent Quinn post-Trespasser and during the DA4 era but to be honest in the wake of Veilguard it feels even more like a song bridging the two (especially if substituting the Inquisitor for Rook like I've kind of been doing).

I'm all yours, but you're all mine Let's dance together, you and I 'Cause I'm not trapped with you, you see You're the one who's trapped with me 'Cause I've been here so many times before Don't you think I look pretty Curled up on this bathroom floor? But where you see weakness, I see wit Sometimes I fall to pieces Just to see what bits of me don't fit 'Cause I when I stand oh those folks will run And tell the tales of what I've become They'll speak of me, oh in whispered tones And say my name like it shakes their bones

The instrumental that follows is something I've have written down as associating with House Trevelyan and therefore one of Quinn's instrumental themes so it's a good closer.

[queen-scribbles]

For the Rook asks!! 🌾, 🌱, and 🌹

Charlize Thorne

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

...what would be a perversion of Duty? Obstinance? I feel like that or a perversion of Compassion would have the best luck getting in her head and taking control or manipulating her.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

Yes and no? When she was in her early thirties, she was stationed in a Warden outpost near a small town in the Anderfels. She struck up a friendship with the grocer, Jakob, who supplied most of the food for the outpost. He was a widower, and he and his son would make deliveries every week. Charlize struck up conversation one day while helping him unload, and a friendship grew out of that on subsequent visits. She would occasionally find her way into town, either on patrol, delivering their order for the week, or just "stretching her legs", and talked to him more at his shop. There was, eventually, a definite undercurrent of attraction on both sides, and Mattias(the son) absolutely loved her. Jakob was witty, kind, a good father, honorable and fair, very good guy all around. But even being pretty sure he liked her back(and he did, very much), Charlize was reluctant to say anything bc she's a Grey Warden. Even if she doesn't get reassigned, there's the Calling, if not an even earlier death in battle, and she didn't want to do that to him. Since she never said anything, Jakob never did either, so they wound up doing this incredibly UST-laden dance for a few years.

It ended when a darkspawn force moved through the area; Charlize and a few others broke orders to stay in the fort in case of a fight to get in position to protect the town in case any 'spawn split off from the main horde. Which they did. The attack was repelled successfully, but two of the other Wardens died, Charlize got reassigned to Jader, and Jakob decided it was too dangerous to have a young child in this area, so he moved to Markham. So while there was someone she was romantically interested in, nothing happened.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

Charlize is gonna romance Emmrich(and I might be proud of being on the Emmrich/Warden Rook train before it was a Thing xD). I feel like, from what I've heard about his character and romance, their first big fight--if they have one--will be about her feeling smothered by how much he worries about her//him thinking she's too reckless, bc that's the way she's learned to live as a Warden. You have to blend risk-taking and caution and inevitably every individual Warden has their own balance. She tips more on big-risk, big-reward, prioritizing protection of civilians. It would get resolved by a (maybe slightly heated) conversation about her being used to protecting people like this and it being part of a Warden's life vs Emmrich reminding her she has someone who will miss her if/when she dies, please delay that as long as possible, darling. And coming to some kind of compromise, but she's been a Warden 20+ years, she's not going to change her style overnight.

Rook Asks