#we had such high regard and deep trust in the series

[oswlld]

this is the one time i will address a reply, since i am seeing a lot of this coming up in my notes and do want to clarify that i agree w you wholeheartedly and i NEVER made any claim that i was happy with the ending or that gaining his sight back served the story any justice.

i would go more into how irked i was with some of the takes and how they put other people in the disability spectrum down, but ppl have done a better job of conveying my exact thoughts/criticisms in the tags already so i'll direct everyone's attention below

#okay i had mashed potatoes and now i'm back and i want to make this the first post i reblog about it#because it's such an important perspective to keep in mind when phrasing analysis/rants/disappointments with the choice made with the endin#states of ability come and go across people's life times#and nobody has the right to diminish those experiences or dictate how people manage/treat their bodily challenges.#it *is* a nuanced conversation in disability spaces#it *is* a nuanced thing which is rarely considered in disability policies in larger systems#that said - and i can only ever give my own opinion with the consideration of other perspectives - last twilight did not tell that story#and to say it did feels like an incredibly generous-hearted read. and maybe i'm just too jaded to read this text that way but#15 minutes at the end of 12 weeks. with the tone of a dcom pairing the spares that look inconveniently gay.#as a tidy bow or cherry on top to complete a state of happiness#or the only way to fulfil on the message of hope. it was slapdash and insulting#and if the people involved wanted me to read that as a nuanced subject treatment then they had a lot further to go before they earned it#but again: that's just my opinion#and i will not be villifying people who do identify with day's recovery trajectory because that's fucking real#but as a story? in execution? for the permanently disabled AND the temporarily/episodically disabled? this was a failure to me#and i feel like i've been made a fool of by a creator i respected (if did not totally trust)#he bit off more than he could chew and i won't be swallowing it unfortunately#last twilight (via @icouldhyperfixatehim)

#this is an important perspective i didnt consider#the ending still definitely fell apart because of how day and mhoks relationship was handled with mhoks grief never being given care#and day never stepping up and emotionally supporting him and letting mhok shoulder undeserved blame for their break up#but i will keep this in mind about the disability rep aspect (via @yourstormthlaylirahh)

#this is a really important point!!#i didnt discuss this in my post bc i didnt wanna make it too long#but its so so so important to note that it does show a real part of disability and it will resonate with disabled people still!#just because i dont like the representation doesnt mean its extremely nuanced to call it bad representation through and through#thank you op for sharing this#i did pt in high school and was pretty much fine but i stopped and now im back to struggling#its just like… frustrating to have to do it for the rest of my life just so i can walk without pain idk#disability sucks who would have guessed lol#last twilight (thanks again @biolums)

#good perspective to be shared#i watched the show from the perspective of someone with a permanent disability#so the ending was not what i would have liked to see#BUT its good to see what the ending looks like from another pov#last twilight the series (via @infinitelyprecious)

#haven’t seen ep 11 or 12 yet#but this is a really important perspective#i’m not disabled so i didn’t feel comfortable commenting after the donor revelation at the end of ep 10#but i was feeling similarly in terms of calling it a waste for the surgery to potentially work#please think while you’re writing and before you post… it’s just a show but your comments can affect real people#last twilight#last twlight the series (via @semantic-vegas)

and lastly,

#thank you so much for sharing jessi#and this really is what i wanna put out there bc you can say it’s a story or a character and the whole point is to show someone living#happily with a disability#but when from the start they talk about the fact this is from an accident and they’re waiting on surgery you know it’s gonna happen#this wasn’t the story of someone living with a disability for life it was someone encountering what living like that is like but not giving#up and looking for hope and I don’t think you should hate on the show for rewarding that hope#it’s a different story and I don’t like when people hate on a story for what they want and expected it to be#it’s better to take what is given to you and dissect why you did or didn’t like what they do#and the reason why I didn’t like what they did is bc we didn’t get to see enough of the journey day was on getting his sight back and what#his life afterwards is like bc the message could’ve been that we need to be more considerate of people with disabilities and find ways to#make them feel included and give them their own spaces and show how day with his sight can still be part of those spaces#a journey is not dictated by its endpoint so it’s not about hating on the ending where he can see it’s looking at why that ending didn’t#work and it’s bc we didn’t get to see the whole journey#last twilight (via @jemmo)

tl;dr we are on the same page, it's all good.

i don't want to go into too much detail about my life and how i connected to LT, but just know i am not entirely comfortable with what i am seeing on my dash. a few years ago circumstances lead to me losing my hearing for majority of a year and then became hard hearing for a period of time before i regained my hearing back. its not fully where it used to be but that loss, that hope, and what you take with you on the other side stays with you long after the recovery. i know because i see it every time my mom is in remission.

and then a few months ago, i got a concussion which lead to me being momentarily unable to walk without an caregiver/walker/cane. i worked hard on my PT and now am able to manage on my own two feet again as of three weeks ago.

all i am saying is sure hating on part 4 is your opinion and might not be for you but there are people in your life and maybe on your dash that are reading what you think about people who were disabled at a time of their life, are on their way to recovery now, or got the treatment they've been waiting for. the hardships, the journey, even all the good that happened during allllll that still matters after recovery.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x Reader

One of the series I'm currently working on, hope you enjoy it.

You can find the prologue in the Princess masterlist.

General masterlist

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and death

Chapter 1

Feyre showed you the first guest room and started walking toward the second one, but your voice stopped her “This one is fine”.

She looked at you with kindness, her features soft and a small smile decorating her face. “You know… the first time I visited the night court I was wearing a similar dress”.

“Your wedding dress… yes we all heard” you smiled.

She chuckled and continued “I was scared, I had only heard awful rumours about the night court and Rhysand so trust me when I say that it’s all bullshit. Rhysand is kind and thoughtful, the same goes for everyone in this house… maybe not for Nesta but she loves us in her own twisted way” You kept staring at her not quite understanding why she was telling you all of this. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that we will protect you and be by your side for as long as you need, even forever, but if you try to harm any of us the consequences will be like the rumours of this court.” You gulped and took a step back, your eyes quickly scanned the room for possible hiding places, Feyre noticed and lifted her hands up “Hey calm down, I didn’t mean to scare you, but you are a stranger that Mor brought here and as the High Lady of this court it is my duty to inform you. I must make sure that my people are safe. I know that Mor wouldn’t bring someone dangerous here, but females forced to wed is a soft spot for her and it might cloud her vision.”

You stared at her, guilt building in you. Ladies should please others. “High Lady Feyre I’m so sorry if I offended you. You are right you should protect your people” you replied, a polite smile appearing on your face. She frowned but said nothing more, with a nod she disappeared down the hall, probably back in the dinning room.

You entered the room, it was twice the size of the main room in your cottage, you stared at the huge bed in the middle, the windows that looked like paintings because of the view outside. Soft fae lights decorated the room creating a gentle atmosphere. A sigh left your lips and you walked to the closet, curious if you would find anything inside, you really needed to get rid of this dress. To your surprise the closet was filled with every kind of clothes but none like your usual attire. Everything here was so revealing, you remembered one time that you saw a dress like those back in the winter court, you quickly tried it on but immediately regretted it when you saw your mother’s face filled with disgust. Ladies keep their bodies for their husbands. Only the females working in the brothels wear things like that.

You opened the drawers to find something less revealing and you were met with multiple pairs of pants and shirts. You almost gasped. There must have been some mistake maybe a male was staying in this room before me. You thought. A female can’t wear those, right? You grabbed a long-sleeved nightgown and entered the bathroom. You were met with a deep bathtub. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you jumped back when water started to pour in it. You scanned the bathroom, but no one was there. Maybe some kind of spell? You stripped your clothes and entered the bathtub hissing when your leg touched the water. So hot you thought and closed your eyes as you laid inside, every muscle relaxed, your body going numb but not in a bad way. When you boiled water, you always thought how it would be like if for once you bathed in hot water. Turns out it is better than you could ever imagine. You thought about what Azriel said “raised like a princess”, everyone seemed to believe that, you did too. You saw the females in your village working and you always thought that you were getting special treatment because you didn’t work. But raised like a princess? You doubted that. You didn’t even know the feeling of hot water around your body until now. You stayed in the bathtub until you were sleepy enough. You dried yourself with the soft towel and tried the nightgown, you frowned when you saw the length… mid-thigh. You pulled it until it reached beneath your knees and slipped into bed. You stared at the ceiling; you were exhausted but the feeling that anyone could walk in at any time kept you awake.

Sleep finally came and your body relaxed -still facing the door.

You woke up just when the sun appeared in the sky, the city even brighter. You watched the river, so calm yet wild. You tried to find a dress decent enough for your taste -or your mother’s taste, finally you saw one, midnight blue with long sleeves and it reached your knees. This will do. You thought. You usually wore light colours since your mother believed that a proper lady should look gentle and sweet, but this colour looked good on you too, it made you look powerful.

You walked around the house enjoying the silence and trying to find the kitchen. After countless guest rooms and bathrooms, you finally found it.

You searched the cabinets and after collecting all the ingredients you needed you started cooking. You hummed a song your mother had taught you and twirled around to pick the spatula almost smacking on a hard chest. You gasped and took a step back, hazel eyes were staring down at you, a musky scent of cedar and smoke filling your senses. Azriel’s face was cold, even colder that the ice in your court, the thought made you shiver.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, his deep voice was raspy probably because he just woke up.

“Breakfast” you stuttered. You wanted to disappear.

“The house can do that” he rolled his eyes and left.

You frowned and continued cooking, feeling stupid for even trying but you wanted to thank them for taking you in and cooking was one of the few things you could do.

You finished the food and placed it on the dining table, footsteps echoed through the house and a few minutes later everyone was in the dining room. “Smells so good” Cassian breathed and started filling his plate. “You made that?” Feyre asked.

“Yes, as a thank you for accepting me in your court” you replied with a small smile.

Azriel stared at his plate, it was still empty. Suddenly a platter with several kinds of food appeared next to him and he started to eat. You frowned but didn’t dare to say anything.

“Y/n, would you like to go shopping with me today?” Mor asked you.

You glanced at Rhysand and Feyre.

“You don’t have to wait for our approval” Feyre’s voice was soft.

“But before you leave, I need to see you in my office” Rhysand added.

You gulped but nodded anyway.

Your attention moved to Azriel who dropped his fork and stared at Rhysand, their eyes unfocused. “They are having a mental conversation” Cassian told you as he noticed your curious look.

“You can talk in each other’s minds?” you gaped. “Rhysand is daemati” Nesta spoke with a bored look.

You didn’t know what else to say, your questions seemed to annoy her, so you kept your mouth shut. A few moments later Azriel stormed out and Rhysand pinched his nose.

“Let’s go to my office” he told you and got up, you followed him and almost flinched when you saw Azriel already in there. Rhysand took a seat behind his desk and cleared his throat. “I asked Azriel to go back to your court and find out everything he could about you and your family. Turns out that everything you told Mor was true, so it is my pleasure to welcome you in my court.” “Thank you” you bowed your head. “Please don’t do that, I want you to consider me your friend. I want to help you find your own personality, you need to find your own strength. Your goal should be to become powerful and confident not someone’s wife.” He continued. You could only stare, no one ever spoke to you like that, no one offered to help you become something else.

“I know that you and Azriel don’t get along, that’s why he is assigned to show you the city and help you with everything you need. I hope this will be enough for you to toughen up”

Silence.

Your jaw almost touched the ground. Azriel was fuming, he opened his mouth to protest but Rhysand lifted a finger and dismissed you both with a “That’ll be all” and a smile.

You exited the office and were pushed against the wall, scarred hands grabbed your arms and kept them above your head, a hot breath against your cheek.

“You won’t speak without my permission, you won’t follow me around like a toddler and you won’t seek me out. I will come find you when I want to.” He growled. “Is that understood?”

You stared at him, your eyes filling with tears and your body shaking. You frantically nodded your head wanting to get as far away from him as you could.

“Words princess” “Y-yes” you stuttered.

And with that he was gone, only a few shadows stayed who approached you and caressed your cheeks, drying the tears you weren’t able to hold back.

You couldn’t go to Rhys you knew he would tell Azriel, and you didn’t want to find out what the consequences would be for you. You went back to your room.

You dreaded the moment he would find you again.

What do you think?

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

[cecilysass]

Why I Think The X-Files Isn’t Really As Much About Watergate and Governmental Conspiracy As Everyone Claims, Maybe Including CC

This one’s really nerdy, get ready.

Media covering the X-Files has always emphasized how much the show capitalizes on a post-Watergate worldview, a paranoia about government and belief in high-level conspiracy. I think CC signed on to this interpretation entirely. So much so that he sure kept on feeding those conspiracy plot lines in the mytharc—even when every other plot line was going hungry. 

So much so that in the revival, he really created a problem for himself, which the media picked up on. Government conspiracy nuts in 2016 no longer were hot sensitive 90s guy outcasts like Mulder or quirky cuddly little nerds like the Gunmen. Government conspiracy nuts in 2016 were media savvy right wing commentators manipulating the masses, getting presidents elected through willful misinformation.  The revival series tried to address this head on with Tad O’Malley, a character who represented this new development. But it was definitely a sticky issue: the sociopolitical context of the original show was gone. Was the show relevant any more?

I would argue yes, or at least it could have been. I would argue that the interpretation of the XF as a show primarily about conspiracy at high levels of power and governmental manipulation is a flawed one to begin with. I think this take makes the show way too thematically narrow, limits it, and obscures the show’s more important appeals.

In the 1990s, media coverage of the show almost always mentioned Watergate the historical event. Sometimes coverage discussed how Watergate was directly referenced on the show (Deep Throat, meetings in parking deck, CSM and Diana both living in the actual Watergate), but also Watergate’s specific effect on creator Chris Carter, who specifically cited it as a formative event. Often it was claimed that the show’s popularity with audiences was rooted in post-Watergate suspicion of government.

I think this could have been true generally speaking, although I always thought it somewhat overestimated the impact of Watergate on the XF’s target audience. Consider that in 1997 many in the key 18-49 demographic would not even remember Watergate especially well, or at all. If you were 30 in 1997, you were 6 when the story broke in 1973. I’m sure that could have left a mark on you, but I also think it might have been something that simply left a much bigger impression on Boomers the age of Chris Carter himself.

Me? I was in college in 1997, and I was nonexistent / unborn during Watergate. So I didn’t remember it, and it held no personal significance in my worldview regarding the United States. I don’t think it ever would have occurred to me to trust that the government was telling me the truth all the time, and I wouldn’t ever be shocked to learn I was being intentionally misled. As a late Gen Xer growing up in the Reagan administration with post-Watergate ideas floating in the air, I just assumed the worst from the get-go.

So I admit: sometimes the earnest speeches from Mulder and Scully about the Truth and being lied to from men in power and a government we purport to trust seemed a little repetitive and obvious to me. It’s taken me a while to realize that these speeches are voicing something very specific and historically real, the furious indignation of Boomers that we can’t trust our institutions. I think I felt like, yeah, okay, okay, I get it. I never had the same kind of trust in institutions to lose in this respect, but this was a major betrayal for people my parents’ age.

All of this to say, I don’t think that the conspiracy worldview and the appeal of the paranoia about government was a big part of the draw for me. I’m not saying it wasn’t for many or even most others. But my instinct about storytelling is that that is a little too abstract or bloodless of an appeal to really hook most viewers anyway. Like, you might be interested in conspiracy to get you to watch initially, sure, but that’s probably not going to keep you watching for years. And it’s really not going to be enough to motivate you to tune in to a revival series in the 2010s.

So what was the big hook for viewers? You’re probably expecting me to say MSR, and if so, I’m going to surprise you a little. I do think that was part of it for some percentage of viewers, but I think it is more complex than that.

I think the show tapped into a late 20th century urge for individuals to become part of something greater than ourselves. Something we might think of as numinous or transcendent. Maybe something meaningful and good (like a quest for truth) — or maybe something that will look down and judge us, for good or ill. Something that means that we are not lonely in the universe. This puts X-Files squarely in an overall 1990s angels and aliens otherworldly trend. 

(Personally, and this could be an only me thing, but I can never quite separate out Tony Kushner’s Angels in America and The X-Files in my mind; Angels debuted on Broadway the same year X-Files first aired, and I was exposed to both at about the same time. They’re both about apocalypse and personal crisis and the end of the millennium and the transformative power of authentic relationships with others. I could do a whole thing on this.)

The desire for transcendence is the part of the show that is summed up by Mulder and Scully watching lights together in the sky, by Mulder’s wonder at seeing ships or aliens, by the entire notion of “I Want To Believe,” by the idea expressed in the last episode of the original series that both Mulder and Scully share—that the dead aren’t lost to us, that “they speak to us as part of something greater than us - greater than any alien force.” Mulder says to Scully that if “you and I are powerless now, I want to believe that if we listen to what’s speaking, it can give us the power to save ourselves.” There’s definitely a part of the show that is about little lonely human beings finding how they fit in a big, unfeeling universe.

The show's interest in conspiracy figures into this. Because after all, what are conspiracy theories but reassurance that there is some meaning behind everything after all? That there is some powerful system running the show, even if that system might be kind of evil. A grand organized secret an individual can actually uncover, rather than a bunch of random haphazard incompetence and chaos. I think this is part of the show's interest in transcendence, but only one part.

And there’s also part of the show that’s about a hero who is wracked with loneliness and alienation — and then two heroes who are wracked with loneliness and alienation—finding a kind of salvation in Truth, in Justice, in Trust, in Partnership, and, ambiguously, Love. (Sometimes Mulder sounds more like a 19th century Romantic hero than anything else.) This makes it a little allegory about late 20th century individualism and alienation and desire for meaning and authenticity and connection with others. 

I think what appeals to people emotionally in the show is that part of us that wonders: is there a universe that pays attention to me? Is there anyone who listens to me and who really, really knows me? Does anyone besides me care what is true and what is a lie? Will I find those who are lost to me and repair the parts of me that are broken? Is there anyone who would give up their life for mine?

I think that the desire to connect with others is a really basic human drive, and it’s most obviously foregrounded in the show the Mulder-Scully partnership. Even romance aside, we see from the first episode that these are two people with distinct worldviews who want to communicate, who see something in one another, who are hungry to be understood by one another. They ultimately see the other person as someone who reflects and affirms who they are. The partnership is definitely the emotional hook of the show, whether you see that as a romantic ship or not, and it thematically echoes the show’s overall themes of wanting there to be more in the universe. 

When the show was at its most emotionally devastating, it was one or both of its protagonists losing a relationship or connection that was important to them, or it was their frustration that their efforts were not meaningful on a larger scale: grief over a loss, a coverup that meant Justice wasn’t served or Truth was concealed.

When the show’s moments were most emotionally triumphant, they were always moments of overt connection, usually between Mulder and Scully, both more dramatic (“you’re my touchstone”) and subtle (reaching out to take a partner’s hand in Pusher or Field Trip). When there were moments of triumph concerning the government conspiracy, it felt more allegorical, like information (Truth) getting free, not progress made in specific governmental reform or anything. 

(And honestly, the moments of triumph against the conspiracy were pretty few and far between. We left the original run of show with the protagonists on the run, pretty sure there was going to be an alien invasion in coming years that had been facilitated by complicit human conspirators, so this conspiracy thread of the plot apparently didn’t even seem like the most important and emotionally satisfying story to resolve.)     

CC wrote a NY Times piece addressing the changing landscape on conspiracies in 2021, discussing why he was skeptical of a new UFO report. He was perceived as having the authority to write this because he created a show that quintessentially addressed government conspiracies about visitors from space.

But for me, the question of whether the government was hiding evidence of extraterrestrial life was really not the main takeaway from TXF. At least no more than the question of whether there needed to be an investigation into the undue influence of witchcraft in Scotland was my main takeaway of Macbeth.

I do acknowledge that I may have been in the minority. Maybe this is not how most people felt. But I also wonder if sometimes the urge to make the show primarily about political paranoia became a distraction from what it did best—these larger, more universal themes. I wonder if that is partly what was so frustrating about the storytelling of the revival.

[ak319]

Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

PART IX ➺ Prev ⤷ Series m.list Your name is Deniz here

1 week later:

(YOUR POV)

"Today is a gonna be kind of a 'media overload' day, I'd say," Katie began, her voice carrying that polished, professional tone, but with a hint of caution. She paused, allowing the words to settle heavily between you two. The sound of pages turning filled the air before she continued, "So... I'll first give you the updates regarding the wedding and the reaction it received. Would you like that, ma'am, or... should I start with the schedule?"

"Update...I guess.."

Your hand lifted almost instinctively, and she passed you the tablet, with a practised smile before continuing, "Let me start from the beginning then. So... your dress, everyone loved it, the tiara was perfect, and everything else. People are still questioning online about... the choice of riding in a car back to the palace instead of a carriage, but it was cleared by the staff that it was due to high security. The balcony appearance matter was handled by the King himself, and he had chosen not to give any specific statement on it. So that's that.."

You scoffed internally as you swiped through the headlines. It seemed she had saved the "positive" ones for you so far. Katie kept her tone light, almost reassuring, as she added, "And ma'am, there are going to be infinite chances for that in the future, so you shouldn't worry much if you missed one. It's fine. What is more important is that you take one step at a time."

"And... what about me? Like my... demeanor?" You asked, the hesitation evident in your voice, expecting her polished reassurance. Katie paused, visibly gathering her words before replying, her smile wavering but quickly regaining its composure.

"Ma'am, as we've discussed before, there are always going to be millions of opinions on everything a royal does. And on an occasion like a royal wedding, especially one as highly publicized and anticipated as yours, people love to sit and chat about every little detail. But let me assure you, the feedback was mostly along the lines of you appearing shy which is expected, of course. It’s the first time you've ever been on camera, and on such a big day, no less. It’s perfectly normal."

Oh yeah, the interview cancelled by Kade. At the time, you hadn't expected that decision. As there was no formal engagement between the two of you, Kade had decided that the interview should take place after the wedding when you both would be seen as a proper couple and when, as she put it, you'd be more accustomed to the spotlight. The logic was simple and controlling, wrapped in that smooth reasoning of hers: better to present a united front when the cameras were rolling, and when you had a chance to settle into this new role. It wasn't up for discussion, like most of her decisions. But in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but see it as another way she dictated the terms of your life now.

Deep down, you knew that facing the camera alongside her was inevitable. A day would come when you'd have to smile beside her, speak politely, and play the role of the doting spouse. You dreaded the thought of whether it would be today, tomorrow, or soon but you still weren't ready.

"So no one said I looked sad, out of place, zoned out?" you pressed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Katie hesitated again, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her expression before she smoothed it away. "Even if they did, it doesn't matter. It doesn't. Trust me. And we only discuss the negatives here when it’s to prevent a mistake in the future like a wardrobe malfunction or an etiquette mishap. We--I meant to say, I am here to guide you through this transition smoothly, to ensure that you are well taken care of, and to keep your mind clear of anything that shouldn’t concern a royal." Her words felt rehearsed like a lullaby meant to comfort.

You snorted. "Hm, I know, Katie. I know. And let me tell you, you're doing... a good job. But isn't this also part of it? Like, isn't my behaviour in public during the wedding a sign that I need to work on my... demeanour?" Katie, ever the professional, answered in her usual robotic manner. For being your manager, she was indeed nailing the role. The fun part? She knew about the circumstances of the marriage considering she's been with the family for over some years. And this was told to you by Kade as if to make you feel even more suffocated as it was. Yet, sometimes, Katie’s eyes seemed to convey an unspoken understanding, a quiet sympathy that you found yourself secretly grateful for.

"And you did learn, you did fantastic in Morocco. See?" She swiped through the tab, flashing headlines from your so-called honeymoon.

“Princess Deniz Finds Her Footing in Morocco: Shy or Simply Sophisticated?”

“Princess Kade’s Heartfelt Gesture: A Private Honeymoon in Exotic Morocco”

“From London to the Sahara: The Newlyweds’ Unexpected Journey”

“The Royal Pair’s First 'Casual' Tour Together: A Glimpse Behind the Smiles”

“Sweet or Stiff? Public Reactions to Princess Deniz’s First Official Outing”

“Matching Outfits, Mixed Signals: The Royal Couple in Montana”

“Honeymoon Bliss or Royal Pressure? Princess Deniz in the Spotlight”

And then, of course, the Montana picture, frozen on the screen like a permanent reminder of the narrative Kade had crafted. You stared at it, imagining how Kade must have spun those moments for the cameras, shaping them into the story she wanted.

“A Tender Moment: Princess Kade Carries Her Bride Off the Plane”

“Caught on Camera: Royal Duty or Devotion? Kade Cradles Her Sleeping Bride”

“Gentle Gestures: Princess Kade’s Care for Her Resting Wife”

“Sweet Slumber or Exhaustion? Princess Deniz Carried by Kade After a Long Flight”

“Off the Jet and Into Her Arms: The 2nd? Honeymoon Begins”

“From the Sky to Her Arms”

"People absolutely loved this picture. Lots of fangirling over it. Completely natural, candid, and, I know, an invasion of privacy, but it was bound to happen." Katie’s voice maintained a tone of professionalism, but you could hear the underlying excitement in her words. Hundreds of articles swarmed your mind, all picking apart every detail of your life with Kade. Yet, you knew that beneath the praises and the fanfare, there were whispers questions about the suddenness of the announcement, the unexpectedness of the union.

And they would keep wondering. You guessed as much. Because even though the public adored the image of the perfect royal love story, you knew that no one saw the strings being pulled beneath the polished surface.

“So--um, ma'am?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

“Ruby and her team will be here around 1 p.m. to discuss the outfit and hair for tomorrow. I just got a memo from the King's office that the teams from Times Nine and Prodigy will be coming too.”

Your heart sank, and you immediately closed the tab. “L-like for an interview?”

“Yes, ma'am. From 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., but it might go until 1 since there’s a photoshoot afterward.”

“Does Kade know--” You stopped yourself and decided to call her yourself. “I need to make a call. Give me a minute.”

“Yes, ma'am.” She offered a small bow before leaving, and you immediately dialled Kade's number. It went straight to voicemail. Of course, you shook your head. Apparently, she had gone to attend to some matters and was planning to visit the Ravenstone Hall later---the wing in St. James where you both would potentially be moving, though nothing was confirmed yet. You could sense that something was brewing between her and the King, both had been sour since returning from Montana. Her visit there will feel like an act of rebellion against him, typical of her, using her manipulative tactics to make the King cave.

You were about to call Ronan, her PA when a knock interrupted you. "Your Royal Highness? It's me, Richard. May I come in?"

God, no, not him. He always brought bad news whenever he crossed my path.

“Come in.”

He entered with his usual stiff poise, offering a curt bow before speaking. “His Majesty requests your audience.”

"Um... alright." You placed the phone down on the table, then followed Richard’s lead, your footsteps hesitant. Katie noticed your unease and began to accompany you, but you managed a reassuring smile, urging her to stay behind before continuing on your own.

"Is something wrong? Why does he want to see me? Is it about the interview?" you asked, a touch of nervousness slipping into your voice.

"I have no idea, Ma'am. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Richard replied, his expression unreadable, as always. Eventually, you arrived at your father-in-law's study, and after a pause for his confirmation, you stepped inside.

"So, how are you settling in?" he began his tone cool and measured. You stood there, feeling slightly awkward, the memory of your last encounter especially that intense 'hunting day' flashing through your mind. Meeting him alone like this, without Kade’s presence, made the unease swirl in your chest.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Um--what do you think? I’m... adjusting. Even if... it’s something I didn’t ask for.”

"There. There’s the sass. Just what I was hoping to see." Ewan rose from his chair, and with the practiced elegance of a royal, he stepped closer. His brown eyes so reminiscent of Kade's held a cold intensity that made you shiver. No wonder he favors her; she’s a mirror of him, both in looks and in the way they toy with people.

"You still have a lot to learn, my dear. And that's why I just had to have a talk with you." His voice was smooth, almost patronizing, and you couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers behind your back, the anxiety bubbling under your calm facade.

"I just hope you haven't forgotten what I said before all of this took place. Y'know, at Westwood. I intend to keep my word, you know." His smirk deepened, and the threat lingered in the air between you.

"W-what? What are you even talking about? You’re still going to threaten to jail me? Even after all of this?! Even after the marriage?" Your voice wavered, frustration and disbelief mixing as you tried to make sense of his words.

"That's where you’re wrong, girl." He settled himself on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, his eyes assessing you.

"You think those warnings were just for a single day? Just for the wedding to take place? No. They were to remind you of what you’re stepping into. To make sure you understand the gravity of this situation. Do you think this institution is a joke? I won’t sit back and watch my family’s legacy be tarnished just because a new girl here is too shy or too scared to face the world or the cameras after being handed a life others can only dream of."

You couldn’t help but let out a choked snort, trying to hold back the anger that surged within you. "I don't know why..."

Deep breaths, Deniz. Deep breaths.

"Do you people forget... that I am a human being? A person with emotions? Someone who needs time--or did you all just choose to forget what you did? What she did? What everyone did?! Despite everything, you should be grateful I didn’t spill all the secrets the moment I had the chance!"

His expression darkened, shadows flickering across his face, but he remained seated, keeping his composure.

"What’s done is done! Why can’t you get that through your head? The only thing---the only option--you have left is to come to terms with it! You even had two months. Are you going to keep throwing tantrums and whining for the rest of your life? Is that what you’re trying to say? Be fucking reasonable here!"

You stayed silent, fists clenched tightly at your sides, even though every part of you wanted to lash out, to release the frustration building inside.

Ewan exhaled sharply, trying to soften his tone. "Look, let’s keep this calm let’s try to have a conversation like a father would with his daughter, alright? I want you to know that even though I managed to overlook the decision to skip the carriage and the balcony appearance, I did it because I understood your emotions. I went along with it even though, believe me, I was strongly against it. So please, for your own mental sake, stop seeing us as your enemies."

A bitter laugh escaped you before you could hold it back. "You did that because Kade asked for it, you did all of that because she asked you to. And as for my mental state? You don’t need to worry about it--- no one has to..."

That was enough to make him step closer, looming over you with an imposing presence, the authority in his voice cutting through the air.

"Deniz, I want this resolved. I can’t keep doing this back and forth. Your media image--it's in your hands now, to manage, to maintain. We can't afford people speculating... foolish nonsense. We can’t. No more hiding, understand?"

“Is t-this why you want the interview to happen, then?” Your voice trembled, despite trying to keep it steady.

“Yes, I do want it to happen and be done with. Another thing that was let go of,” he muttered under his breath, his words barely reaching you as you began pacing away, trying to put some distance between you and the tension in the room. “It will happen tomorrow, here. And once it’s deemed acceptable, it’ll air on Saturday.”

“What’s the rush?” you snapped, frustration bubbling over.

“Did you hear a word I said?! Face reality, Deniz! The longer the silence, the more questions there are. It might not bother us, but still-”

“Why are you afraid people might speculate about... all that happened?” you interrupted, your tone sharp, cutting through the air. The only response was the rhythmic ticking of the clock, echoing in the tense, pin-drop silence that followed.

Ewan finally broke it with a bitter laugh, though his eyes remained hard. “Very... great sense of humour you have, Deniz. But I am not joking here. I just want Kade to have some semblance of normalcy, after all this rushed and chaotic mess of a marriage. I want people to see that you both can be a good match, even if you’re trying to prove otherwise. Even if I think otherwise. The people want to fucking hear your voice for once! They want to know you! So for God’s sake, just... try to make the best of everything now. The interview will happen. Got it? I don’t want any more squabbles in this palace, especially not in public. Do you get it, Deniz?” His voice was firm, his eyes burning into your back.

“Face your King! Don’t you dare turn your back on me!” he bellowed, the command reverberating off the walls.

You spun around a tearful yet guarded expression in your eyes, trying to mask the hurt and defiance bubbling up inside you.

"I believe it will take some time to get that inside your skull, but Deniz, it should be done quickly, you hear me? Kade might tolerate your antics, but I will not. And what’s this new drama of moving into the Ravenstone at St. James? What’s wrong with staying here in Buckingham?”

“It’s well, I’m not really aware of the reason. It’s not like Kade asks for my input on anything. Didn’t you ask her?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect his attention, even as your own curiosity burned.

“Well, I did. She just brushed it off and is quite adamant, and I thought perhaps you had some issue with staying here.”

“Knowing me by now, you must realize I’ll have a problem anywhere, don’t you think?.” Your pointed jab brought back the irritation on his face, his jaw tightening.

“For God's sake, Deniz! Be serious for once! You will go and tell Kade there’s no need to move to Ravenstone until perhaps her coronation as the Duke of York.”

“May I ask why, though?” You tried to keep your voice steady, though a part of you agreed with him. You didn’t want to move to Ravenstone Hall either, Kade’s sudden decision set off alarm bells in your head. What’s the reason for this change? Is Buckingham too noisy for her? Or is there something she isn’t telling you?

"Is there something wrong with a father not wanting his youngest to move out just yet?" he asked, his voice adopting that self-important tone that grated on your nerves.

“Um--St. James is just like an hour away....” you muttered, but he ignored your comment entirely and kept on.

“Kade has always been such a joy for the family to be around. From her cousins to even the servants, everyone likes her energy.”

'Oh, God. Give me a break. Is he being tone-deaf right now?' You swallowed back the urge to snap, holding onto the patience you’d reluctantly learned to master. 'Kade might be the life of the party to them, but she’s a killjoy for me'. You could almost hear your own voice mocking him in your head, ‘Must have been a delight raising a spoiled brat, huh, Ewan? One who thinks everyone adores her, even me. God, imagine that. I bet she thinks I’m part of her little fan club too--whatever helps her sleep at night.’

“I’m going to ask you one more time--do you have something to do with this?”

“I told you, no, I don’t,” you replied, your voice a little more heated than you intended. “In fact, I want to stay here, as unbelievable as that may sound! I have no problem here...I have kind of adjusted." And you didn’t know why. Any other person would say that you should be happy if moving out became a reality. The King taunted you occasionally about not having a noble or wealthy background, sometimes even bringing up Juniper's name, not that you cared, as this wasn’t your choice; it was his daughter's. But it hurt. It hurt because you were the one being blamed. You could feel Kade’s wrath beside you, though she avoided arguing in front of everyone. What a saint. Maybe this is why she wants to move out.

You just… you don’t even know what you want at this point, your thoughts are a tangled mess, caught between wanting to be alone with Kade or sharing the space with others. What keeps you grounded sometimes is Julian , a kind, jolly man when he speaks, a bit of a mirror image of Romana, to be honest.

He shook his head in exasperation. "Forget it. And while I may criticize the members of this family when they misstep, I also give praise when it’s due. You," he sighed, almost in disbelief, "did a good job in Morocco. From meeting the royals there to establishing connections with their NGOs. That’s the thing about being royalty. What you were doing in your job before, now you can do it fully and as much as you want, dear. So please, focus on the positives.” His tone shifted, taking on an edge. “And that doesn’t mean I’m telling you to ignore Kade. She’s part of your life now, just as much as you are a part of hers.”

"W-when is the coronation going to be...?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I have not decided yet. Off you go now."

With a solemn expression, you exited the study, only to come face with Richard. Bastard. "No need, I'll walk to the room myself, thanks." As you neared your room, the headache that had plagued you since waking intensified.

"You Royal Highness, Ruby and--"

"Later, Katie, I need to---I need to rest for a bit, please." You gently shut the door behind you and crawled under the covers. The King’s words echoed in your mind, nearly compelling you to smash your head against the wall.

She's part of your life too, as much as you are hers.

She's part of your life too, as much as you are hers.

She's part of your life too, as much as you are hers.

Honestly, what a shit-show.

You knew you should take a painkiller, but you refused. What was the point of running from this pain when there was a constant other pain in your life, one for which there was perhaps no ointment? Kade , this new role, the King's expectations, people's expectations. So, you forced yourself to succumb to sleep, embracing the ache.

It had been a week since that day in Montana, the day you both returned. Surprisingly, life had resumed as it had before same room, same bed, and the familiar presence of Kade. Her demeanour had softened again, returning to the gentler version, which you could call the less challenging one. Yet, the memory of that day and her words haunted you, echoing in your mind daily. Each moment kept you on edge, dreading what would come next what she would do, and whether you would be strong enough to stand your ground.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(Kade's POV):

I entered my room tired after a morning filled with meetings and tasks I was assigned, only to find my lovely wife curled up and sleeping. At 2 p.m.? It was unusual for you to be asleep when it was near lunchtime. And why didn't you answer when I called back?. You rarely called me yourself so it already made me a bit suspicious.

"Deniz, love. I am back."

I stalked toward your side of the bed, removing my jacket before reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "Sorry, I was busy-"

Wait... what? You felt too warm.

Immediately, I picked up my phone to call for Katie. “Yeah, come to the room immediately.” I turned my attention back to you, sitting beside your vulnerable form. “Deniz, love? Open your pretty eyes for me, please.” I whispered softly, coaxing you to awaken. You stirred, letting out a weak whimper of confusion.

“C’mon, just sit up for me. Let me get you checked, love. You have a bad fever.” I helped you sit up, my fingers brushing against your warm skin, and then I turned to answer the door. “Come in!”

Katie walked in, her expression shifting to one of instant worry. Her eyes widened as they took in your frail form, curled beneath the covers, the faint sheen of sweat on your brow. “Was she like this when you came in?”

“N-no, Your Royal Highness. She was fine but looked a bit worn out, and that’s why I kept Ruby’s team on hold.”

I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of my neck in frustration. “Ruby? For what? We’re not going anywhere this week as far as I know.”

“Um, Your Highness, there’s going to be an interview tomorrow. His Majesty’s orders.” My eyes darted to you as I slid a thermometer under your tongue, my heart sinking at the sight of your glazed expression.

“And why the hell wasn’t Ronan informed of this?!”

“Because His Majesty wanted to inform you himself. That’s all I know, Your Highness.”

“Richard told me he called you --is that why he did, love?” A tired nod was my only answer. “Katie, call Hilda immediately and tell her to bring some soup and medicine. RIGHT NOW!”

After the door shut, I turned back to you, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. “I’ll talk to him about that. No way it can happen tomorrow-”

Before I could complete my sentence, you spat the thermometer out in frustration. “Deniz! No-”

“NO! It will happen tomorrow!” Your voice was fierce, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe--- I just heard you wrong.

“What--what are you on about? For God’s sake, you’re burning up! No way it’s happening!”

“Yes, it is!”

“Why are you so adamant about this all of a sudden? I can damn well see you’re not ready!”

“I will never be!” With that, you burst into tears, burying your face into the pillow, curling back into yourself. God, this is gut-wrenching.

“Hey--hey, look at me, darling.” I didn’t touch you this time, instead, I leaned closer, my voice softening as I whispered into your ear. “Kay, no more interview talk. Let me see your temperature.”

I couldn’t let this sobbing go on forever, especially not when you were sick.

“God--ugh! Bloody fuck! Did Dad have something to do with this!? Did he say something to you!?”

Again, no response. That silence was enough to make my anger boil over, and I stormed off to have a word with him.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

“Yes, you heard me correctly. Either the Ravenstone or this,” he snapped, his voice steady but laced with a tension that felt suffocating.

“You cannot seriously be saying this right now, I am not 5. I can move if I want to.” I retorted, incredulity washing over me.

“Don’t talk to me in that tone. Enough. Especially now that you have a wife. This is the reason she back-talks too! Because she sees you do it all the fucking time. And you move when I allow you to.”

“I apologize but I am only talking to you as your daughter right now-”

“I don’t care! I am your King and you will address me as such. I don’t care if she’s sick, I am not cancelling it! I am not cancelling anything anymore! Throw as many tantrums as you want. And tell her to join you too, after all, she sent you as her messenger, didn’t she?”

“Dad? Seriously? You know she didn’t! I came here of my own choice! She’s saying the opposite! I don’t know what the hell you fed her!”

“Well, then you should be happy. I did what you couldn’t do in just one day.” His gaze hardened, and I could see the resolve etched on his face. “Now, get prepared. She’ll be fine till morning anyway. I’ll order it to start late but no cancelling. Got it?”

“Un-fucking-believable,” I muttered under my breath, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Hey! Did I dismiss you?” His voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.

I flopped back onto the sofa, avoiding his gaze as he sipped his tea with an air of casual indifference. The clink of the porcelain cup against the saucer echoed in the tense silence between us.

“Why Ravenstone? Tell me, and no beating around the bush.”

“I just want privacy. Some space,” I replied, crossing my arms defensively.

“Is that a subtle way of calling me some dictator? Remember this, Kade. I am doing this for you.” His tone shifted, growing more insistent, but I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, unwilling to meet his steely gaze.

When I still didn’t respond, he let out a defeated breath, the sound heavy with resignation. “Fine, after the interview, I’ll look into this matter. And I will decide where you both will move, which house is perfect for you. But, that is after the interview. Which has to be--not perfect, per se but at least fucking normal. No side-eye, no extensive sighs, no depressed expression.”

“I know, I know.” I stood up, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. “You know, but she doesn’t, so please, it will be your job tomorrow to make sure everything goes smoothly. You will meet the team first, have a discussion regarding questions, and prep yourself and Deniz.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good. I’m sure you will handle it perfectly. It may turn out even better than normal if God wills,” he said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. I let out an involuntary snort at his chuckle, but the moment felt hollow. Or maybe he is right, you need to understand and face it. Even if it is a bit against the pace I decided, I am sure it will be fine. You can do it. You are my little strong girl after all.

Finally, I received the awaited dismissal. My body and mind ached to be near you, to ensure you were fine. God, how will I break all of this to you? The thought loomed ominously, knotting my stomach as I made my way back to you.

Next

(AN: I made a correction, so I changed the palace where the whole hunting thing took place into Westwood Palace. Also, I know St. James, in real is not an hour away, but since this is fictional , so yeah. Love y'all.)

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 17: Not Yours

Summary: John says something regarding Lucy’s relationship with Charlie that cuts deeply.

Word Count: 3,428 

Warnings: Angst, polyamory, infertility, and some irresponsible behavior when taking care of a baby (the baby is fine, though, don’t worry!).

Notes: I wrote this for @call-sign-shark’s 1k followers celebration. Congratulations, Shark! I decided to participate in the angel themed option, and I picked the dialogue prompt: "Don't listen to them" from this list. As usual you can read this as a standalone fic without reading the preceding parts if you prefer. There are some spoilers for previous parts, so if you want to go into the fics preceding this one totally blind, I suggest reading those first, but it’s by no means required to understand what’s going on here. All you need to know is that it takes place sometime between seasons 2 and 3, and that Tommy, Lucy, and Grace are in an established polyamorous relationship.

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She rushed down the hall, shoes clattering against the hardwood floor, bursting through the doors to the drawing room, following the high wails that were steadily increasing in volume. 

“Charlie!?”

The baby was sitting on a blanket in the middle of the room, his face contorted with terror as he cried his little heart out. Swooping into the room, she scooped him up, cradling the back of his head when she pulled his tiny body into her chest. He immediately nuzzled into her neck, still crying even as he clung to her.

“Sweet boy, sweet boy. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” she swayed them both gently from side to side. “Shush…it’s okay,” satisfied that he was safe once he started to settle, she looked around the room, brows furrowing.

John and Esme had come by to let their kids run off some of their energy by playing on the expansive grounds around Arrow House. She could hear their hoots and hollers filtering in through the window. Tommy had to go down to his office in Small Heath for something, and Grace was in London doing some wedding shopping. Lucy had some things she needed to get done, and had taken up John and Esme on their offer to babysit Charlie while she worked in her office. She thought it would be fine; they had about a thousand children so it wasn’t like she was worried they would drop the baby on his head or anything. Besides, it was only for an hour at most. 

And yet, looking around the room where she’d left them with Charlie, there was no John or Esme to be found. Her eyes narrowed. What the fuck? Didn’t they know better than to leave a baby alone like this? The least they could have done was put him in his crib in the nursery so he couldn’t get into trouble.  

Charlie’s cries had mostly subdued, resting his head on her shoulder with his chubby little arms still clinging to her.

“Where’d your aunt and uncle go, Charlie?” she asked, truly baffled. But steadily replacing that bafflement was a deep fury. What the fuck was wrong with them?

Still carrying Charlie, she began to walk towards the upstairs, adjusting the weight of him in her arms. 

“I know, sweetie,” she said when he sniffled into her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with them.”

A pit of guilt had opened up inside her. She should have known better than to trust them. 

It was just as she was rounding the corner to take Charlie back to the nursery that the door to one of the guest rooms flew open, John and Esme staggering out, giggling and readjusting their clothes. 

When they caught sight of her they froze, expressions turning sheepish. For a long moment, the three of them just stared at each other. 

“He was crying,” Lucy said finally.

“Shit,” John wiped a hand down his face, stifling a laugh. “Sorry. We didn’t hear.”

“Cleary,” she knew that she would be better served to just bite her tongue and tell Tommy about what happened later and let him deal with it, but she was too angry. “You should have said if it was such an inconvenience to watch him. I could have just put him in his bassinet in my office.”

“It’s no inconvenience–”

“No?” she raised an eyebrow. John rolled his eyes.

“Look, the kid fell asleep. Esme and I haven’t had a moment alone in fuck knows how long. We figured we’d just step away for a few moments while he slept and everything would be fine–”

Poor Charlie. He must have woken up laying on that blanket in the big drawing room all by himself and gotten scared. Lucy tightened her arms around him protectively. 

“Well then you should have called a maid or the nanny to come watch him. You can’t just leave a baby alone like that! He could have gotten hurt!”

“Oh, come on, Luce, he can barely even crawl yet, he would’ve been fine–” John started.

“We know a hell of a lot more about raising kids than you,” Esme ground out. Lucy felt her hackles raise at the underlying meaning.

“Excuse me?”

Esme opened her mouth, but John interjected before she could say anymore. 

“Look,” he pinched his brow. “Fine. It was a mistake, and we’re sorry,” he gave Esme a little nudge. “Aren’t we, Esme?”

“Mm,” was all she said, still glaring at Lucy. 

“But he’s fine,” John gestured to where Charlie was settled comfortably in Lucy’s arms. “No harm done. So…”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “So…?” she quoted back, though she had a pretty good idea of what John was going to ask of her next. 

He sighed. “So, if you could just maybe not mention any of this to Tommy…”

Lucy cocked her head. “I think that Tommy has a right to know what happens in his own household, don’t you? Especially if it has to do with his child.”

John’s face twitched. He’d always had a short fuse. But at least Lucy was fairly confident he wouldn’t try anything too rash so long as she had the baby in her arms. 

“Would it kill you to not be a fucking snitch, just once in your life!?” he snapped. “You act all shocked and hurt that none of us can fucking stand you, but have never stopped to consider that maybe it’s because we know everything we do or say around you gets back to him?”

“I do my job, John. Just like you do yours.”

Esme scoffed. “His little spy. Even amongst his own family members,” she hissed a curse in Shelta and spat at her feet. Shaking her head, Lucy shouldered past them. She wasn’t going to stand around and listen to this. 

“I’m not going to lie to Tommy when he asks me how things went today just so you two can avoid a scolding.” she said over her shoulder.

“Why do you even care so much!?” John exploded, shouting at her as she continued to walk down the hallway. “He’s not even your kid!”

Lucy froze, shoes skidding to a stop against the soft rug. She was glad that her back was turned, so John couldn’t see her face when the words punched a hole in her heart. 

Swallowing hard and carefully schooling her features into an expression that hopefully hid just how heartbroken the statement had left her, she turned around, taking a few steps back towards them.

“Get out of my house.”

John and Esme both looked momentarily taken aback by the dark tone in her voice.

“It’s not your house,” John tried to argue.

“Oh, okay. Let’s wait for Tommy or Grace to come home and see how they feel about that sentiment.”

Their jaws clenched, but they both seemed to recognize that was not a fight they particularly wanted to engage in; especially considering they were in enough trouble already. John wiped at his nose, then took Esme’s hand.

“Come on, Esme,” he led her with booming steps towards the stairs. Lucy watched them until they had disappeared out of sight, squeezing Charlie a little tighter to her. The moment they were gone, she felt her features crumple slightly, breaths shaky as she turned back around to head towards the nursery. As if sensing she was distressed, Charlie pulled back from where he’d been resting his head on her shoulder to look at her. 

“I’m okay, honey,” she said, shouldering open the door to the nursery. Instead of taking him to the crib, she sat down in the rocking chair with him in her lap. Charlie craned his head up to look at her curiously, the chair shifting back and forth as she rocked them mindlessly. Breaths still shuttering in her chest with the effort it was taking her not to cry, Lucy smoothed down Charlie’s hair with her palm, kissing the top of his head.

She loved Charlie with all her heart. And Tommy and Grace had made herculean efforts to ensure she never felt left out in raising him, always insisting that Charlie was just as much hers as he was theirs. 

They’d made even more of an effort on emphasizing that fact ever since she’d finally admitted to them her secret regarding her inability to have her own biological children. 

But despite their efforts, fear still weighed heavily inside her chest. Fear of what would happen when Charlie got old enough to begin asking questions about the nature of her relationship with his parents. And that, maybe, even after he knew the truth, he wouldn’t understand. He could even come to the conclusion that he didn’t want his parents being with her at all. 

They hadn’t really decided how much they were going to tell him when he got older. Of course there was the concern that when he was young he might not fully understand the importance of discretion in the whole arrangement. But the idea of him not knowing, and growing up thinking that either of his parents were being unfaithful to each other with her, and inevitably resenting her for it, made her want to cry. 

“Da!” Charlie squawked.

“I know,” she stroked his soft hair. “Daddy’ll be home soon,” she soothed.

Charlie cuddled back against her chest, yawning a little. Lucy sighed, stroking his back. 

“I hope you’ll still love me this much when you’re older, kiddo,” she whispered. 

“He’s not even your kid!” John’s voice echoed in her head, and her bottom lip trembled.

It always stung to be reminded that outside of Tommy and Grace, no one would ever really see her as Charlie’s parent. While most of the family knew about the arrangement between her, Grace, and Tommy, many of them did not approve of or even accept it. And she knew that quite a few of them also viewed her extensive involvement in Charlie’s upbringing as her pushing herself into a position where she didn’t belong.   

God, the possibility that Charlie himself might someday feel that same way…

A shuddering sound left her lips, breaths stuttering as she tried hard not to cry. Suddenly unable to sit still, she picked Charlie back up and stood, going to the window.  

She had never thought of Charlie as anything other than her baby. 

And given what the doctors had told her, he–and any other children Tommy and Grace might have–was the only baby she would ever have.  

That was alright. She’d mostly made peace with that fact, small bouts of sadness or insecurity aside, and she loved Charlie so much; he would always be enough for her. 

He’s not even your kid.

But the idea, that nagging, insistent feeling, that someday Charlie might say something to the exact same effect to her, was more than enough to break her heart.  

Hot tears finally slid down her cheeks, a small sob spasming in her chest. Charlie, staring up at her, reached up, patting at her wet face clumsily with one of his tiny hands. 

“Mama,” he said.

“Mama will be back soon, too, sweetie,” her voice was heavy with tears. 

“Mama!” he insisted, patting her face again.  

Lucy looked down at him in puzzlement, lips parting when she finally understood. “Oh, no, honey…I’m not your mama.”

“Mama,” Charlie said once more, stubbornly, and she sighed. He really was his father’s child. 

“It’s just ‘Lucy,’ baby,” she tried to explain. She didn’t really have an official title for him to call her by. Any form of ‘mother’ just felt like it would confuse the poor boy, but she wasn’t particularly fond of variations like ‘Aunt Lucy’ either. She had come more or less to the conclusion that she would just be ‘Lucy’ to him almost without even realizing it.

“Mama!” Charlie’s hand tried to again pat at her damp cheek, though it was more like he was gently smacking her with it thanks to his lack of coordination. She sputtered out a sound that was half a laugh, slightly tipping her face away from him after he almost poked her in the eye. 

Adjusting him so he was propped up on her hip, she leaned her head against the top of his, closing her eyes while swaying them back and forth. A moment later, Charlie put his little arms on each of her shoulders in what could only be considered a hug, and she nearly burst into another round of tears over how heartwarming it was.

Sometimes she swore that the kid understood far more of what was actually going on with the adults around him than they thought.  

She didn’t think she stood there for very long, though she couldn’t be entirely sure, before she heard the creak of shoes on the floorboards behind her.

“There you are,” Tommy said, striding across the room before she really had time to process that he was there, pecking a kiss to her lips and stroking a gentle hand over Charlie’s head. He frowned when he pulled back and got a good look at her face. Her eyes were probably still red from crying. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, um…”

“Da!” Charlie interrupted her, clearly ecstatic to see his father, pulling both of their attentions to him. 

“You wanna go to your Daddy, Charlie?” Lucy asked. “Give my arms a break before they get too sore? You’re getting heavy, kiddo.”

Tommy chuckled, taking Charlie from her with a grin, holding the baby close to him with Charlie’s head tucked securely on his shoulder. Once he was situated, he turned back to Lucy, eyebrow raised questioningly. She shook her head.

“I’m fine.”

The look in his eyes said that he didn’t believe her. “I noticed John, Esme, and the kids are gone,” he prompted. 

“Yeah, I, um,” she cleared her throat. “I kinda threw them out.”

“Why?” he tilted his head curiously. 

“Because they offered to watch Charlie while the kids were playing outside so I could get some work done. And then I heard him crying later while I was in my office and I found him lying on a blanket in the drawing room wailing by himself.”

Tommy’s brows pulled together. “They just left him alone?”

“Apparently he fell asleep, and they thought it would be acceptable to go fuck in one of the spare rooms,” she reached out to stroke Charlie’s back. “He’s okay,” retracting her hand, she ran it through her tangled curls. “I shouldn’t have left him alone with them.”

“John and Esme know better than that,” Tommy growled, and from the far-off, calculating look in his eyes, she could tell that both his brother and sister-in-law were in for a proper scolding the next time he saw them. His gaze snapped back to her. “What else happened?”

She shook her head. “That’s it.”

One arm hooked securely around Charlie, he reached out the other to cup her cheek, thumb stroking the slightly puffy skin under one of her eyes.

“You’ve been crying.”

“I’m okay.”

His eyes narrowed, immediately closing in on what must have happened. “What did John say?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Tommy…”

He gave her a stern look and she sighed, breaking eye contact with him to instead adjust the collar on Charlie’s shirt. “Just some shit about Charlie not really being my kid.”

Tommy was quiet for a long moment. “What?” he finally said, voice a low, dangerous growl. When she looked back up it was to find that his eyes had hardened, jaw tensing. 

“Yeah, um,” she coughed. And then, because she figured if she was already going to do the equivalent of throwing John into a pit with an angry wolf, she might as well tell the entire story, she added, “he also tried to say that this wasn’t my house…”

“I’m gonna kill him,” the absolute seriousness with which it was said had a weak smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Tommy shook his head, turning his furious eyes towards the window like he could somehow beam his anger and disappointment at John just by staring in the general direction of his house. “Fucking John…” he hissed under his breath.

“Yeah,” wrapping her arms around herself, she looked down at the floor. Tommy’s head snapped around to her.

“Hey,” adjusting Charlie in his arms, he reached out and cupped her face again, tilting her head up and resting his forehead against hers. “He’s wrong, eh? John’s an idiot; don’t listen to a word he says.”

Lucy let out a small laugh, a hand coming to rest on Tommy’s chest. “It’s what they’re all thinking, though,” she peered up at him, lip caught between her teeth.

Tommy shook his head. “Don’t listen to them,” his nose brushed against hers. “They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about,” he whispered huskily, and Lucy shivered, letting him crowd in closer to her, mouth brushing over hers sensually. “You’re his mother,” he said after he pulled back. “Both me and Grace say so.”

Charlie made a squealing noise, reaching his little fists for Lucy’s hair. Tommy chuckled.

“See? Charlie does too.” 

Lucy sniffled, nodding and letting him draw her into the circle of his arm, so that he was holding both her and his son to his chest. 

“We love you,” Tommy said into her hair.

“Love you too,” she mumbled. Charlie tried to grab her hair again, catching a fistful of it.

“No tugging, son,” Tommy spoke gently, carefully untangling the curls from Charlie’s fingers before he could begin yanking on it. “Lucy doesn’t like that.”

Charlie pouted, but relented, yawning and resting his head on his father’s chest. 

“I’ll talk to John,” Tommy told her. 

“You gonna yell at him?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She tried not to smile at the idea and thoroughly failed. He never had once failed to defend her to his family whenever they stepped out of line. She couldn’t begin to tell him just how much that meant to her. “Thanks.”

He pecked her forehead “Of course.”

The door opened with a soft creak, approaching heels clicking on the floor. “Why, hello you three,” Grace smiled brightly when she took in the sight of her two lovers and her baby embracing. She whisked forward to give both Lucy and Tommy quick greeting pecks on the lips before kissing Charlie on the cheek. He made a happy cooing noise at the presence of his mother before snuggling closer to Tommy. 

“I think he’s about ready to go down,” Tommy commented, hoisting the baby a little more firmly up on his shoulder.

“Can I take him?” Lucy asked suddenly. Tommy shot her a look, smile pulling at his lips. 

“Sure,” he handed Charlie over to her with zero hesitation, the baby, already half asleep, nestled his head in the crook of her neck with no complaint, heavy in her arms. Grace pulled her eyes away from Charlie to look at her, brows furrowing. 

“Did something happen?” she asked. 

“John’s been being an ass,” Tommy said, wrapping an arm around Grace’s shoulders and kissing the top of her head. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it.”

“How was the shopping?” Lucy asked, wanting desperately to change the conversation, though she could already tell from the look on Grace’s face that she would be wanting more details later. 

“Oh, very successful. I got the order in for those centerpieces we agreed on.”

“That’s good,” Lucy nodded, carrying Charlie over to the crib. “I love you,” she whispered into the baby’s ear. He cooed softly when she cradled him carefully as she put him down. 

“Mary said dinner is almost ready; we should head down,” Grace said, her and Tommy moving to join Lucy at the crib, the three of them crowded together around it. She kissed Lucy’s temple. “And then you can tell me all about what exactly John did.” 

“Okay,” Lucy breathed out, still staring down into the crib, where Charlie was looking up at her sleepily. Most of the inhabitants of Small Heath, and even many of the Shelbys, had always looked at her like she was a demon. Some monster that had crawled out of the bowels of hell to terrorize them all. But Charlie looked up at her not just with the unquestioning love that a baby had for its parents, but with complete and absolute trust. Like she was his guardian angel. 

She hoped, probably in vain, that he would always look at her like that.

Previous Part • Series • Next Part

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[hhapp2]

Guo Wengui: The End of Fraud and the Judgment of Justice

On July 16, 2024, Eastern Time, Guo Wengui, a "red notice" person of Interpol who had fled to the United States for many years, was found guilty of defrauding thousands of people of more than $1 billion in the Manhattan Court of New York. This verdict is undoubtedly a powerful sanction for his criminal behavior and a manifestation of justice.

Guo Wengui, a figure who once had a certain influence in the business field, has fallen into the abyss of crime driven by interests and desires. He was the actual controller of Henan Yuda Investment Co., Ltd. and Beijing Pangu Investment Co., Ltd. He should have created value for the society with his own abilities and resources, but he chose a completely different path.

On November 3, 2014, Guo Wengui publicly exposed the suspected insider trading of Li You, CEO of Founder, and others through Zhengquan Holdings, and then left China. This incident may have become a turning point in his fate. Since then, he has begun to carefully create the so-called insider persona through online live broadcasts and other activities overseas, thereby confusing and attracting a large number of overseas followers who do not know the truth.

However, his so-called "success" is nothing but a mirage built on deception and lies. According to the US investigation, from 2018 to 2023, Guo Wengui raised more than $1 billion from his online fans, ostensibly claiming to use it for investment business and cryptocurrency plans, but in fact he used the funds as his "personal piggy bank" and squandered them wantonly.

His fraudulent means are varied. For example, he set up a private members-only club with a minimum membership threshold of $10,000. Many followers paid high fees to join this club, but they never thought that this was just one of Guo Wengui's traps to make money. In addition, he further defrauded investors' trust and funds through means such as cryptocurrency platforms.

What is even more outrageous is that Guo Wengui misappropriated investors' funds to satisfy his extravagant desires. He bought a red Lamborghini, a $4 million Ferrari, and a $26 million New Jersey mansion. These luxury goods have become a symbol of his decadent life, and behind them are the blood and tears of countless investors.

In 2021, three companies associated with Guo Wengui, including GTV, paid $539 million to settle charges brought by the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) against the three companies regarding illegal stock issuance. In addition, the SEC also charged GTV and Saraca with illegal unregistered digital asset securities issuance. This series of charges and penalties reveals the illegal and disorderly behavior of Guo Wengui and his affiliated companies in the financial field.

Now, Guo Wengui has been convicted of fraud and the judge will sentence him on November 19 this year. He may face decades in prison. This outcome is what he deserves and is a stern warning to all those who attempt to obtain ill-gotten gains through fraud.

Guo Wengui's case has brought us deep reflection. First, it reminds us to keep a clear mind and not be fooled by so-called "insider information" and false personalities. When investing and participating in various business activities, we must conduct sufficient investigation and analysis to avoid blindly following the trend. Secondly, it also warns us that the dignity of the law cannot be violated, and any attempt to escape legal sanctions will ultimately end in failure.

In this society full of temptations and complexity, each of us should adhere to the moral bottom line and pursue success and wealth in an honest and legal way. Only in this way can we build a fair, just and harmonious social environment, so that fraudsters like Guo Wengui will have nowhere to hide.

Justice may be late, but it will never be absent. Guo Wengui's ending once again proves this truth. Let us look forward to the law giving him the severe punishment he deserves, and hope that such cases can become a wake-up call in people's hearts, reminding us to stay away from fraud and cherish integrity and justice.

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Hi hi :D Hope you're doin okay! I have a request if thats possible - regarding your highschool au! How about a oneshot (or headcanons) for one of those 'forced party' scenarios the proxies make [name] go to?

Like - how do you imagine they go? From the invitation (if you can call it that) to the drive there and just how they behave and treat [name] throughout the whole thing! Thank you :)

Forced Late Nights

Author's note: Sure! I was on my break so sorry this took so long-

Warnings: Alcohol, Drugs, Emotional and Mental Abuse, Threatens of rape, implied rape, murder mentioned, violence, implied drugging, harassment, pet names, peer pressure, PTSD mentioned (Toby), sexual assault and just not so nice things, read with caution.

Links: {Masterlist} {Last One-Shot}

Pairing: [Proxies x Reader] [EJ x Reader]

AU: High School (Check my Something Short Series for more info about this AU, link to it in my Masterlist)

"Hey! Whore, get over here."

You groaned at the voice yelling from behind you. Timothy Wright, one of the most popular boys in school and by far the most harsh. Him and his friends have been picking on you since Junior year. Saying bye to your friends you walked over to their lunch table.

"What do you want Tim?"

"Well we have an invitation for you!" Toby exclaimed, looking through his backpack before pulling out a black and white envelope.

"Invitation?" You asked, expressing your confusion.

"LJ is hosting a party tonight and he said we can bring one extra person," Brian said.

"And he said we can-" Toby started, before Tim hit him in the back of the head.

"Shut up Toby! LJ said we can bring a plus one, and you're gonna be our plus one."

"What if I were to refuse?"

Toby pulled his mask off and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the table.

"We will drag you deep into the fucking woods, rape you than murder you," Toby said, smiling at your shaking form.

"Toby's lying about the rape part, like we'd ever want to fuck you," Tim said, Brian letting out a chuckle.

"So is it a deal?" Brian asked.

You thought about it. You didn't trust LJ, not one little bit, Lord knows what he'll pull at that damn party. But, you never really got invited to stuff like this, not because you were considered some weirdo, but because you weren't friends with people like that, so you didn't get invited to parties.

"Fine, I'll be your 'plus one'."

Toby got out from his seat and hugged you, swaying back and forth in pure joy.

"Yay! I won't have to be Brian and Tim's punching bag tonight! Tonight you're our punching bag! I can't wait to see you covered in your own blood."

"Toby, shut up," Brian said.

"Sorry..." Toby said, before letting go.

You decided it was best for you to leave now, before you had to deal with anymore of their wrath. Even though Toby was just as bad as Tim and Brian, you felt bad for him. He was abused by his only friends, his home life sucks and he has a handful of disorders.

You decided to go spend lunch near the alleyway next to school, just so you think straight.

"You shouldn't have agreed to going to that party."

You flinches and looked to the direction the voice came from, and there stood a tall guy will a black hoodie, brown hair, a mask on the side of his face, but he lacked eyes. You couldn't deny that he was kinda handsome, but you didn't know who he was.

"Who are you?"

"Don't worry about that, but what are you doing over here?"

"I'm not gonna share my business with a guy I don't even know."

"Smart Girl/Boy."

The stranger hopped onto the trash can you were sitting on.

"You friends with those Proxy guys?"

"No! They just pick on me."

"That's a shame."

You rolled your eyes and scrolled through your phone, waiting until lunch was over.

"You going to the party?" You asked, catching the stranger's attention.

"Yeah, that's why I asked why you agreed."

"I'll tell you if you tell me why you're going."

"Well, my friend Ben is going and he's dragging me with him. I would much rather take people's kidneys."

You laughed at what he said, assuming it was a joke. The stranger just stared at you before chuckling.

"Well, this'll be my first high school party, I just wanna see how it feels."

"It's just a bunch of drunk teenagers. Bunch of sex, drugs and assault. They're probably trying to get you drunk or drugged and fuck you," the stranger said, pulling his hood up.

"Well, I gotta head to science, maybe I'll see you during that party," the stranger said, jumping off of the trash can and walking off.

You smiled to yourself. He was pretty nice, and kinda attractive, even though the lack of eyes was intimidating.

You were walked to History class when you were stopped.

"Hey Y/N~"

"What do you want Jeff, I don't have time for your antics. Go bother your brother or something."

"That isn't very nice Y/N, I thought you were nice," Jeff said, his smile making you shiver.

"I'm nice to people who aren't murderers."

Jeff rolled his eyes as you walked past him.

"Why don't we walk to class together? We're both going to history with Mr. Bill."

"Fuck off."

Before you could say anything, a knife was in the inside of your mouth, it dangerously close to cutting the skin of your cheek.

"We're walking to class, got it?"

You nodded before he took it out, licking the saliva and blood that got on the knife, making you cringe.

The walk to class was silent, you didn't look at Jeff while Jeff stared at you.

"You two are awfully late," Mr. Bill said.

"Sorry teach, got lost on the way," Jeff said, before sitting down.

You sat down as you mindlessly listened to Mr. Bill's lecture. At the end of the day you were at your locker getting your stuff. You planned on going to the school's dealer, Ben Drowned. You needed a new computer and he could give it to you for a fair price, and you got what he needed.

You walked to the janitor's closet and opened the large vent in the wall before going in. It was dusty but it was worth it. You opened the vent and you instantly got the smell of weed.

"Another costumer!" Ben said, looking up to see you looking down.

You saw the stranger from earlier in the corner and Jeff smoking a joint on a couch.

"You took the long way, but that's fine, get your ass in here," Ben said as you jumped down.

"Where's my computer, I got what you want."

"No need to be so hasty, I have it, but I want to make sure I'm not getting scammed, show it."

You groaned as you reached into your backpack and pulled out a Mario Kart game. Ben snatched it before giving you your computer.

"Finally! Pleasure doing business with you Y/N."

"Yeah yeah whatever you say Elf Boy."

"Hey, why don't you stay for a bit!" Ben claimed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, despite him being shorter than you.

"I'm good. I need to get ready for a party."

"You're going to the party too? Well, you have time! Relax a bit..."

Ben shoved you into a bean bag chair before he sat on his spinning chair, the stranger from earlier being next to you.

"Uh... nice seeing you again," You said awkwardly.

"I'm EJ by the way. I already know your Y/N so I don't care sharing my name."

"I didn't expect you to be down here. I thought you'd be at home."

"Had nothing better to do, so I'm here," EJ said shrugging.

"EJ try some! It ain't the bad," Jeff whined from across the room.

"No."

An hour passed and you decided it was time to go. You left through one of the vents and walked home. You couldn't help but feel like someone was watching you. Looking around, you didn't see no one besides the few people on their porches.

Unlocking the door of your house, you walked in and saw you mother standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her face held in a scowl.

"Where have you been for the past 2 hours?!"

"I need help with my bio homework mom, it's not a big deal."

"For 2 hours?!"

"Yes. It was 10 pages ma."

"Well, call or text me next time. You had me worried something bad happened to you!"

"Oh yeah mom, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"I was invited to a party and-"

"No."

"But mom it's my first-"

"No no no! I know how kids your age are. Running off, doing drugs and alcohol, having sex and throwing yourself around. Not in my house! Nope! What if you get hurt, what if you get drugged, you never no! And don't get me started on those friends of yours."

"Enough mom... I get it."

"Good."

You went upstairs and lied down for a bit. Scrolling on your phone and before you knew it, it was 8PM. You heard a loud honk and you looked out your window, and you saw Tim staring at you window.

"Get your ass down here!" Tim yelled, Toby's body hanging out from the window, a blush on his face.

"Hey Y/N~" Toby drunkenly said, a goofy grin on his face.

"My mom said can't go!"

"Who cares! Get down here!" Tim said.

"I'm being serious Tim, I'm not sneaking out. What will my mom do if she's me noting my room?"

"Do we look like we care. Come down!"

You sighed before walking back into your room. You changed into a hoodie and jeans before climbing out your window.

You hopped into the car and Toby hugged you, giggling about how much he hates you.

"Is he drunk?" You asked, pointing to Toby.

"Yeah. He was having flashbacks and decided to chug a bottle of whiskey. It helped him and he stopped trying to jump out the window," Brian said in a tired voice.

"I hate you so~ much Y/N... I just wanna fuck you to death..." Toby said, trying to kiss you.

"ok..!"

"Is he always like this drunk?" You asked, pushing Toby away.

"He's not even that drunk. He knows what he's doing. And no, he's more violent when drunk," Tim said, lighting a cigarette while he drove.

After 10 minutes you guys arrived at LJ's house. You could hear the music from the house, and you knew there was a party before two girls were making out on top of a car.

"Y/N~ You won't leave me.... Right?" Toby asked, his head buried in your chest.

You didn't respond, all you did was get out of the car, Toby following after you. Tim slammed opened the door and you guys were greeted by loud music, lights flashing everywhere and drunk teenagers.

You looked around and saw people dancing, people doing drinking contest and some people going upstairs to do Lord knows what.

"You look terrified," Brian said, a smirk on his face.

"Me?! Terrified no. It's just. It's not something I'm used to."

"Probably because you have no friends and don't go to actual parties," Tim said, walking off to the bar.

You just let out a sigh while you watched Brian follow Tim and Toby run off somewhere. Standing in the middle of the crowd you were kinda lost. You kinda just watched dance circles and the drinking contest.

"Hello dear customer of mine~"

Next thing you knew you felt someone wrap their arm around your shoulder.

"Hey Ben. What do you want?"

"Nothing nothing no need to be so hostile noobie. It's just, you look so lost and out of place, someone is gonna take advantage of that."

"No I don't!"

"Take a shot then," Ben said, handing you shot.

"No I don't drink."

"See! Fresh meat. You better start getting into the swing of things before LJ finds you, Lord knows what he'll do to you."

Ben laughed while he walked off, disappearing into the crowd of people. You found Tobg drinking his problems away at another bar station.

"You're a pig Tobias," A with a clock eye said, a look of disgust on her face.

"Shut *FUCK* up Natalie," Toby said, slurring his words while the woman named Natalie rolled her eye.

"Why aren't you with Tim and Brian?"

"Because Tim and Brian can suck my dick! They're nothing but dicks to me, luckily we brought some cutie with us so at least I'm not the only one facing their shit."

"So you brought another victim with you?"

"They're not just another victim Natalie! I really like them, I think they'll last long."

"You disgust me Tobias."

"The feelings mutual Natalie," Toby said, before taking another shot.

You sat down at the bar next to Toby and asked the bartender if they had any soda. Toby already looked wasted and distracted arguing and talking to Natalie so it should've been quick. When you grabbed your soda Toby grabbed you and held you close.

"This is the cutie we brought with us!"

You looked at Natalie and she didn't look amused at all.

"Let the poor girl/boy enjoy the party without your presence."

"Ugh, whatever. Go make some friends doll~" Toby said, before kicking you away.

You ran off into the crowd, wanting to get as far away from the party as possible. You were planning on hiding in the bathroom before you were stopped by the one man you didn't want to see.

"My my my! Do my eyes deceive me?!"

Laughing fucking Jack was hanging from the ceiling right Infront of you.

"LJ..."

"My, I don't recall inviting you, Y/N. So what are you, doing here?" LJ said with a sinister smirk on his face, his claw like finger booping you nose.

"Oh! You must be the Proxies plus one! They always had an eye on you," LJ said, jumping down and picking you up.

"Why don't we spend some time together. I wanna see if all the good things the Proxies talk about are true~"

You looked at him panicked spitting in his face and jumping out of his arms. Running up the stairs and into a random room. You locked the door and stunk to the floor. Tears falling from your eyes.

"Why why why did I come here..." You thought, before you realized the odd smell in the room.

Rubbing the tears away from your eyes, you looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. You saw Ben, EJ and Jeff smoking weed with porn playing on the TV.

"Welcome! Want some?" Ben asked giggling.

"No. I just, needed to get away," You said.

"Were you crying?" EJ asked, his mask on the floor and his head tilted to the side as he blew a puff of smoke with a smile.

You looked away and buried your head into your knees, wanting them to just go away. EJ took the joint out of his mouth before his long black tentacles came out of his mouth and wrapped around you.

"W-What the... Hey, let me go!" You yelled, pulling away.

The tentacles pulled you towards EJ and into his lap. His tentacles retreated back into his mouth before he wrapped his arms around you.

"You're soft EJ," Jeff said.

"That's why people like me, Jeff," EJ said, glaring at him.

Jeff rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the TV. Ben was doing something on his computer, something that seemed to have him bothered by the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" EJ asked as you cried into his hoodie.

"I-I wanna go home... LJ, or Toby or Brian or Tim are going to hurt me, I know one of them will. LJ knows I'm here. He wants to hurt me... I can see it in his eyes."

EJ just rubbed your back and tried to calm you down. Suddenly, a banging was coming from the door.

"I know you're in there! You can't escape the circus doll," LJ yelled from behind the door, his clown like laughter sending chills down your spine.

Ben slammed his computer shut with his eye twitching.

"LJ GO FIND ANOTHER WHORE TO BOTHER BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD IF I HEAR ONE MORE BITCH CRY I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

EJ and Jeff looked at Ben confused.

"Why are you so made?" EJ asked.

"I can't get into Nintendo's files for the new Mario kart game..."

EJ groaned and shook his head. LJ sneakered from behind the door.

"I'm sorry Ben. Did I push your buttons? I'll leave her alone. For now... Also Y/N, Masky is looking for you. Better come out before he gets upset."

All you did was hug EJ and not let go.

"Do you want to go yet?" EJ asked, you shaking your head.

"They needs to stop being a pussy and just go. You said you wanted to go home, and I'm not giving you a ride. So you either walk home or you're going to go to Masky," Ben said, before taking another puff of smoke.

You snuggled up closer to EJ before letting out a sigh. Your eyes slowly blinked before permanently closing. Suddenly, sirens could be heard from outside. Ben opened the window and saw 7 cop cars outside of LJ's house.

"THE COPS ARE HERE," Somebody from downstairs yelled.

"Welp, time to go," Ben said, before jumping out the window.

Jeff followed after, leaving EJ by himself. EJ set you down on the bed before running and jumping out the window.

"Where the hell are they..." Masky muttered, checking rooms to find where you were.

"Found them," Hoodie said, opening the door.

You slowly opened your eyes and saw Hoodie standing in front of you. You flinched and tried to get away but Hoodie slung you over his shoulder and ran out of the room.

"HANDS IN THE AIR," An officer said from below, a large group of teens on the ground with their hands up.

Toby snuck out through a window and got into the car. Using the key Tim gave him, he started the car and ran it right into the house, killing at least ten officers and 15 teens.

"GET IN!" Toby yelled, getting out of the driver's seat.

Hoodie threw you into the back seat, causing you to to hit you head on the door and blacking out. Masky got in the driver's and Toby made you sit up before getting in the back.

"They're knocked out cold," Toby said, hugging you unconscious body.

"Well we gotta get them home before we get in trouble," Hoodie said, getting a groan from Toby.

"Do we have to? Can't we just have one night with them? Boss never said we couldn't have some fun with our toy."

Hoodie looked at Masky who was going way over the speed limit.

"Fine, but after that they're going home," Masky said, before leading the car onto the road that lead to the forest.

A few hours later you woke up in your bed, your clothes were changed and you barley remembered what happened all of the last night. All you remember was that you were at some random house. Your body was sore and sticky, you didn't know why though.

"Y/N! Wake Up you're gonna be late for school!" Your mother said, catching your attention.

You finally fully work up and took at 5 minute shower before throwing on whatever clothes you could find. You grabbed your backpack and said bye to your mom before running to catch the bus. When you got on the bus, you saw EJ sitting in the back.

"Hey EJ," you said, sitting next to him.

"Hey."

You two both sat in silence. Kids were blasting music and talking while you two did your own thing. But when you got to school you were greeted by the Proxies.

"Hey Y/N~" Toby said, grabbing you.

"What do you guys want today?" You asked annoyed.

"We just wanted to know if you could hear fun at the party," Tim said.

"Party? What party?"

Brian and Tim looked at each other before Brian smirked.

"Well, you came to a party with us yesterday and you drank so much you threw up and blacked out in our car, and you did a line of crack," Brian said.

"You're lying," You said, glaring at him.

"I'm not, plus, I got photos."

You looked at Brian with suspicion as he pulled out him camera. Your eyes widened in horror as you saw picture of yourself snorting a line, drinking and throwing up. But you froze when you saw yourself on the floor of the woods, your clothes pretty much being ripped to shreds and white liquid dropping from your mouth.

"W-What," You said, your hands shaking as you dropped the camera, only for Brian to catch it.

"We won't share these photos if you behave, ok?" Brian said, grabbing your face and forcing you to face him.

"What did you do to me..." You asked, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away.

"There's more if you wanna see," Toby said.

"We did nothing sweet heart, just behave and we won't share them, ok?"

You just nodded before pushing him away and walking off, leaving them giggling as you held back tears. Why did you move to this school...

[acatalystrising]

During this lovely Boba Fett-Fest I mean October the amazing @ceapa-mica and I have been plotting a new Boba story…we both bonded over our love of Boba and have now joined forces! Since I’ve been neck-deep writing the final chapter of Consequences, OG Trilogy Boba is fresh on my mind, and there are a sad shortage of fics focusing on that era of his life. Sooo…we decided to share our own story!

So join us, if you dare, for an epic tale of revenge, loss, love, and rebirth in Second Chances!

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Trigger warnings: assassination attempt, death threats, cannon violence, injuries, side character deaths, angst, eventual smut

Series synopsis: Boba Fett gets tasked to assassinate an Imperial quarry for a fine amount of credits. But as it turns out, his target has a secret, one that drastically changes his plans. Little does Boba know this job will change his entire life - drawing him closer to his father than ever before.

Chapter One

Grand Moff Tarkin looked more like a skeleton than a person - at least Boba Fett had always thought so.

Even now, standing on a star destroyer that more accurately resembled a tomb, he felt nothing but cold emptiness exuding from the chambers within. But he wasn’t here to feel - he was here to get paid.

And Tarkin had yet to deliver.

Instead, he’d demanded to meet in a private room away from prying eyes and ears. Boba remained silent - bored. To think, this is what these high ruling types found to be clandestine. They grossly limited themselves, and that’s what made them so predictable. At least they were smart enough to pay well.

“I appreciate your time. This…subject is of a more…delicate matter.”

Tarkin turned to face him, stiff and rigid in his pristine uniform - one thin brow raised.

If he was waiting for a verbal response, he’d die standing here. Boba merely shifted his weight from one foot to the other, keeping his blaster tucked securely against his arm. For such a patient hunter, he had a surprisingly short amount of patience for stupid, arrogant people. Even if they happened to be a client.

“This is a matter of security, though I’m certain you’re already aware.” Tarkin folded his arms behind his back, and Boba idly thought that the man more resembled a toothpick than a human.

Oh, the things he did for money and a reputation.

“What’s the job?” He finally spoke, knowing the man would spend another ten minutes peacocking unless the conversation was steered in the right direction.

Tarkin blinked, and Boba smiled beneath his helmet. No matter how frequent the client, few people didn’t fear him. Even if they pretended they didn’t.

The man had the audacity to look around the small, whitewashed room, despite the fact that they were completely alone. The nerve of some people - to think they were oh so important. When he looked back at Boba, a new weariness had settled in his icy blue eyes.

“My granddaughter has always been…weak. The sympathetic sort, if you take my meaning.” Tarkin picked a piece of lint off his sleeve with a sigh as if he was only discussing afternoon tea. “She ran away a few months ago, and she knows valuable intel. I have sources indicating that she’s defected, and so far she has killed all the men I sent after her.”

“You want me to bring her back?“ Boba wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn’t an errand boy for anyone, especially not an Imperial fool.

“On the contrary. I want you to silence her.”

Boba’s brow lifted behind his helmet, but he said nothing. Tarkin regarded him evenly before turning and walking to the window, staring out at the space beyond.

“She is family, and I grieve for this loss. But it must be done for the good of the Empire.” He glanced at Boba over his shoulder, as if to gauge his thoughts. “I trust this won’t be too difficult a task? I will pay handsomely.”

“Pay me what you owe from the last job, then we’ll negotiate.” Boba didn’t move, he merely lowered his voice just enough to get his point across.

“Of course,” Tarkin dipped his head in acknowledgement, gesturing to a table at the side of the room with the flourish of a gloved hand. “All of your credits are there, of course. Additionally…a bonus, as a thank you for taking this job.”

“I don’t need your thanks. I need details.” Boba holstered his blaster, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Tell me everything about her. If I’m to hunt her down, tell me how she thinks.”

“I’ll tell you what I know, but this must remain between you and I. No one else will hear of this.” Tarkin’s expression turned harsh, but Boba merely watched him, unfazed. “Do I make myself clear?”

And so Boba Fett simply nodded.

“As you wish.”

Silence hovered between them, heavy and ominous. Boba made to move to break that silence, simply waiting. Tarkin cleared his throat before directing his gaze at Boba’s visor.

“She’s always been a very headstrong girl - quite opinionated, always causing a stir in the family. Before she left there was an…incident. Our fleet was attacked by rebels that led to an insignificant amount of casualties. But Kaia…she was inconsolable, yelled at me that it was my fault. I don’t even know what exactly she was referring to. I sent her to her quarters, and she deserted the same night. We found a TIE fighter missing the next morning, with several troopers down.” Tarkin shook his head, his facial expression remaining stoic. “I sent my best men after her, several hunters as well. They were all found dead.”

Ahh, so more family politics. Boba rolled his eyes but didn’t relay any of this to Tarkin. If it paid well, he’d get it done. In this line of work, one could only be so picky.

“Where was she last?” Boba slowly crossed his arms with a soft sigh.

Tracking an inexperienced Imperial woman who was most likely emotional and naïve? He’d be back within three days, at the most. Tarkin would have this little familial squabble fixed, and Boba would be able to move on to more…interesting work. But still…he’d give this his full attention. He’d make it quick, and then he’d be gone. Simple.

Tarkin lifted his datapad into his thin hands and turned on a holomap of the Galaxy, pointing at a region on the Outer Rim.

“We were able to track the TIE fighter to Nar Shaddaa, from there my people hunted her down for several weeks. From Nar Shaddaa to Teth, then to Tatooine and Savareen. Her trail disappeared until a week ago, when we got the intel that she has been seen fighting a bounty hunter on Wrea.” His brows furrowed, thin lips twisting into a distasteful frown. He placed a hand on his chin, peering at the map with a sigh. “With the proper amount of credits she could have traveled across the Galaxy by now…but these records indicate that she probably has just enough money for short travels, and there are only so many planets near Wrea she could have gone to. It shouldn’t be too difficult to track her down.”

“I’ll get it done.” Boba took the tracking fob Tarkin gave him, then turned on his heels and left without as much as a goodbye.

He didn’t owe anyone formalities, especially not an Imperial fool. He had a job to do.

-

Shimia was an insignificant planet - mainly covered by green plains and thick forests. The native species, the Pacithhip, lived in their tribes across the land, but it was otherwise uninhabited.

And that made it the perfect place for a bounty to hide.

Boba had to admit that the woman at least knew how to cover her trail. He’d found telltale signs of her route, of course, but the trace elements had been faint - things a lesser hunter would have overlooked. But he wasn’t a lesser hunter.

He tracked her much further into the forest then he’d expected an Imperial woman to traverse. He’d encountered his fair share, and wasn’t impressed. They’d all been so stiff, rigid…boring. At least this one was making things interesting. He hadn’t expected one of Tarkin’s lineage to know how to survive in this rugged terrain.

But people would often push their limits when desperate. Sometimes it made them careless. And sometimes it meant Boba actually had a worthy hunt.

A sharp, cutting wind whipped through the trees, and he looked up to the darkening sky with a small frown. A storm was building…he could feel it. His quarry would likely try to hide, and if not, she’d at least be slowed down by the weather. Easier to catch up to. He made his way up an incline, keeping an eye out for further signs of movement, knowing he couldn’t be too far behind her now.

The trees rocked in the gale, branches creaking, and Boba pressed on unfazed. He had plenty of experience tracking his quarry in terrible conditions, as if they thought that would save them. He crested a steep hill and looked down at the swath of land below, running a thermal scan. Nothing…yet. He dropped his rangefinder and scanned ahead, brow lifting when he noticed some small buildings in the distance.

He raised the rangefinder and made his way down the hill toward the clearing, keeping his thermal scanner on. He was close. He could feel it.

The moment he entered the clearing, he picked up a heat signature, and smiled wryly, more out of relief that this was almost over then any true source of humor.

Gotcha.

The huts were small, thatched things…barely big enough to hold a person. Whether they were abandoned homes or storage units of some kind, he didn’t know, and didn’t care. He wouldn’t be here long.

Rain began to fall, pattering on his helmet and beading on his beskar. He continued onward, even as the pattering shifted to a downpour, and noted that the heat signature was coming from the last hut to the left.

He knew at this point to not underestimate anyone. No matter who they were. He had no idea what this woman would do, backed into a corner - and if she really had killed every Imperial dog sent to kill her, he would approach with caution.

But when he stepped toward the hut, he heard a pained scream break the silence - the sound coming from within. He frowned, scanning for additional life sources, but still only saw one. Was she already hurt? Dying? Kriff, he had to hurry. He had to be the one to end her, because he wanted to be true to his word, regardless of the job.

And so he cleared the distance to the hut in three long strides, gloved hand pressing against the door and shoving it open, light flooding into the dark space within, reflecting in two wide, terrified, blue eyes.

[siflshonen]

Your metas are really good, great analysis and really well written! 🙂👍 Given your feelings on deku I wanted to ask you, has it been frustrating especially lately, that even after all this time as we're nearly at the end of the manga, that deku hasn't really learned anything? Or worded better, that he hasn't learned then acted any differently?

Because while it is true that deku did eventually go back to working with others, his friends and other heroes, he really didn't trust them with everything, everything as in seeing tomura(and kid tenko) in the vestige world and his plan to try to save him.

Looking back now I wonder if deku had told everyone, especially bakugou, would things have turned out differently in the fight and it's fatal results, do you think?

Other examples of this include deku meeting lady nagant and learning the darker truths of hero society then after he gets back to UA he says he'll 'bring it all back'. Like what??? I don't think he tells anyone about that either, and doesn't even address it (nagant assassinations/societal corruption) any time afterwards.

Can I ask you your thoughts on this?

Aw, thank you!

I think a lot of this (regards to the "bring it all back" and Nagant thing) will be brought up again in the story as we go on. I don't think it's right for me to speak to all of that until we get the resolution, and I get the sense that these things will come up again if even just a little bit. I was never expecting, like, a deep n' juicy exploration of the most nasty parts of the reality of the world taking over for a long period of time given the optimistic nature of the series, but, you know, SOMETHING would be good.

So, uh, to your other question: do I think it's frustrating that it seems like Izuku hasn't learned much/hasn't changed up his approach much? Uh, yes. It's closely related to why I have always favored Bakugo. I was frustrated with Izuku since pretty early on, and it just grew from there. Not to put you in a circle of the two of us referencing each other, BUT... @pikahlua kinda shares my point of view about Izuku's function as the main shonen protagonist, so as frustrated as I am about it, I do also view it at least somewhat as a feature and not a bug.

If this was a seinen instead (and HK wasn't currently literally destroying himself by creating this manga as Japanese mangaka seem to inevitably do), I think the manga would more readily dive into a deeper discussion regarding the societal corruption and Izuku's vigilante arc. I think we also wouldn't be stuck at UA so much. I'm pretty sure HK originally conceived this series as having a cast of adults rather than high school kids, so I wonder how he feels about these things being portrayed within the parameters of a shonen story, too, yanno? I still like the series, lumps and all, and if I'm upset with something I guess I'll just explore it in fanfiction. :)

[marshaloof]

Matsuda's Character Analysis

Gosho introduced Matsuda in DC as the stereotypical “cool, arrogant guy” who smokes a lot. However, he possesses the charisma that drew the audience in and made so many people remember him after so many years. Years later, we found out he is Amuro's friend and we got to know him more in the wild police story.

I've been reading the wps and dc files of Matsuda's appearances a thousand times because well... I'm obsessed with him. So, I decided to write a whole meta about this tsundere brat.

Grab your coffee or snack because this is going to be a loooong rambling about his character.

Childhood - Hatred and respect

In the first arc in wps, the author tried to create this mysterious aura around Matsuda because he hated the police. Matsuda was quite hostile towards the police in the first three chapters of WPS, which made me wonder why he was in the police academy in the first place. We later learn about his background and discover that his hatred for police stems from the fact that his father was wrongfully arrested and was unable to pursue his boxing career. His hostility stems from a deep love and admiration for his father. Matsuda has a high regard for his father and has always looked up to him. That's why he was upset that his father's dreams had been crushed.

Despite the fact that he appeared to despise the police, I believe he despises the police as individuals rather than the system as a whole. He described what real police officers are and how they should be, which explains that he does respect police officers in general. It is just that he hates those who will not give the best calls of action and accuse inncoent people. His hatred is obviously not the reason why he hated Furuya at first. It could be either hatred for Furuya's idealistic view of the police or just fighting for competence.

He chose to be a police officer to impose his own values to be a better police officer than the one who arrested his father. I can’t help but respect him after knowing his sacrifice to save people. I wonder what his father thinks about his sacrifice?

We saw a lot of Matsuda moments and interactions with other characters in these 13 chapters of wps, which helped us learn more about him. We learn that he is a genius at disassembling things and that he enjoys playing with machines. The instructor's description of Matsuda particularly piqued my interest: Matsuda, according to the instructor, lacks teamwork skills due to his introverted personality. However, we have seen him cooperate with the other four on numerous occasions throughout the wps series. This demonstrates Matsuda's trust in the police squad and willingness to work with them.

People's perceptions of Matsuda are always that he is aloof, rude, and unapproachable. Consider the times when he interacted with characters other than the wild police squad. Even if he did not initiate the conversation, they mostly yell or speak in a very irritated tone. This is most likely due to his "bad boy" personality, but I believe it is also what makes it difficult for him to interact with other people because it is difficult to find people who want to befriend him.

Despite his fight with Furuya, Amuro was eager to learn the reason for Matsuda's annoyance with him. Even if they didn't like each other at first, they both wanted to be friends. Date, Hagiwara, and Hiro were also mostly accepting of his personality and respected him for who he is. As a result, we saw Matsuda willing to work with the rest of the squad. People who are not close to him may think he is a rude and unapproachable being, but we saw in wps that he is very loyal, kind, and would do anything to help his friends once he feels accepted for who he is.

Another reason he appears to work with the police squad is that his practicality and the police squad's thinking are in sync. After hearing the criminal's letter in the early DC, he stops to listen to Megure's call or mostly waits for the others to understand. When he notices their baffled expression, he departs on his own because there is no time to waste. However, when compared to his cooperation with Date, he appears to agree mostly on what Date says because Date's abilities are comparable to Matsuda's, so he figures things out quickly and Matsuda follows what he says. As a result, Matsuda will be willing to cooperate with others if he does agree with their judgement.

12 million hostages, one savior

We see him as a mature and calm officer based on what we've seen of him in just a few panels in the original manga. Some people may be surprised by how he was portrayed in wps, but once you understand the difference between his character in dc and wps. You'll realize how much Hagiwara's death has changed him. While he still appeared to be the confident, rude matsuda at his introduction, he was even more unapproachable than before. This could be because Hagiwara was his only close friend and the one with whom he spent the most time. After graduating from the police academy, the police squad split up, which contributed to his loneliness.

In chapter 7, we learned that he was thrilled and was encouraging Hagiwara to join the riot bomb unit, which led to him feeling a great deal of guilt after his death. I believe his grief and loneliness changed him into a more mature and serious person, which led to him putting everything he had into avenging his friend. We no longer see him acting cheerful or childish in DC because he regards those behaviors as immature and stupid. The only thing he wanted to do was keeping his promise to hagiwara. It was heartbreaking to see him unable to avenge his friend and capture the culprit, but he was fated to give his life and give up his promise to Hagiwara.

We haven't received much information from DC, so it's difficult to say how much he's changed beyond what we were offered in dc. I haven't talked about a few details, such as Sato's relationship, because I don't think there's enough information for me to analyze or speculate. That's about all I know about Matsuda's personality. I hope you found this meta interesting.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

A Little Closer

[Raphael x fem reader]

sfw, apocalypse AU, 2012

The city that never sleeps.

They jinxed it, you thought as you dragged yourself along the street, Raphael at your side. The city wasn't only sleeping—it was dead.

You and him were alone, trying to get back in touch with everyone after getting split up. The team had been separated by unfortunate circumstances, nothing short of Murphy's Law. If you hadn't believed in the law before, you did, now.

But Raph could and would plow through a horde for you. He had to; he was your friend, the protector, at the moment. Because while you were able to handle yourself to some degree, ultimately, Raph was the one defending the both of you. And not even because you told him to. He took the role up himself, assumed it silently and never complained. You couldn't quite tell if it was because he felt obligated, or if it really was just his nature.

"You see that building up ahead? The tall one." He pointed toward a particular rooftop rising high among the ones around, and you nod. An infected ambled around in an adjacent alleyway. You glanced over at it anxiously, while Raph seemed completely unbothered. He was focused mentally planning their route. "That's our checkpoint. From there, we'll rest and see if we can regroup with the rest of the team."

The infected, a slower, pustule-covered form, started coming toward the two of you, stumbling out with quiet gurgles. "Raph," you said softly, with a tap on his hard shoulder. He glanced back at you before pulling out his sai, running at the infected and quickly dispatching it by a stab right in the eye socket. He avoided the sickly green caps.The creature fell heavily, and some of the pustules popped on the pavement, squeezing out a foul-smelling concoction of mutagen and infector cells. It amazed you every time just how fast he could get it done, the killing. And without fear—a few infected were more of an inconvenience to him than anything. He got in and got out, all the while you were left in awe at his ability to work on autopilot.

"Actually," he muttered, stepping around the body and into the alleyway the Infector had just come from. He noticed the fire escape and decided they'd take it from there on the rooftops. "I think we can get there from here. Feel like a little roof-running?" he asked you, throwing a subtle smile over.

Anything to get off the streets. Down there, it was bad. You had to look around every corner, watch your back even more carefully, and even then, straggling infected would still manage to slip under the radar. Though, luckily, Raph often was able to predict the movements of groups, which was what made you avoid the building horde making its way through the city. It was still a major scare to think you were clear and suddenly have a hunter-class infected jump out at you.

"Yeah," you answered him, following into the alleyway. "Yeah, let's do that. There are way too many Infectors down here." A shudder crawled up your spine to think about what the ooze those things carried could do to people.

He leaped up onto the railing, while you took the stairs. "It ain't the Infectors you have to worry about. It's the Hunters," he replied, pulling himself into the edge of the roof. You finished your ascent up the staircase as quietly as possible, and he met you at the top, grabbing your hand and helping you up the rest of the way. "But don't worry; I'll make sure none of 'em get you." You leaned forward and looked at him with a small smile, noting what he said. And that he still hadn't let go of your hand. "Or me," he added quickly as he released your hand and turned away to survey the series of buildings ahead.

You laughed, "Well, I'd be pretty screwed if I lost you, Raph. I kinda rely on you, y'know?"

Unknown to you, those last words would stick with him. For a long time.

"Yeah…" he trailed off. He didn't know how to respond to that. Of course, he'd been relied upon before; by Mikey, especially. He knew what that felt like. But protecting this girl? There was a new sense of pressure. Even Mikey could handle himself well enough alone. But there wasn't anything for you to fall back on, should he be out of the equation. No ninja training, not much knowledge of how to use a melee weapon aside from the basics, and guns were few and far between. Very far. A gang would trade you one, if you were lucky. Most people weren't lucky in that regard. Raph didn't want you anywhere near those thugs, anyway.

Between the two of you was nothing but the sound of the breeze. The city was almost dead silent, save for the occasional racket of survivors, or feral animals. Both were in low numbers; most of the city—the country—had been turned. The rate at which the infection spread was astonishing. Only here and there would a lonely human cause ruckus anywhere.

Raph cleared his throat, "We should get moving. Sun's going down and we need to hunker down for the night, the Hunters will be wakin' up soon."

"Sounds good," you said as you stretched your tight muscles out. Hours of almost nonstop walking and jogging could really work up some nasty knots.

You moved forward, him naturally taking the lead as you both made your ways across the roofs, him helping you along when you needed it, and you keeping watch for stragglers while you were at it. Sometimes, there would be other people up there. Other times, former people.

Coming up to a run down building, Raph made the last jump across, expecting you to be able to handle it. But you were hesitant, your body worn and weary from days of over exertion, and today was the straw that broke the camel's back. After all this time, you just couldn't muster the strength to clear the gap yourself.

Raph was about to go on ahead when he noticed you hadn't made it across yet, and he called out, "Y/N, what're you doing over there? Come on, this is our stop."

You wanted to do it, for the sake of his convenience, but it was too far. You could have over or underestimated and plummeted down into the alley below, gotten incapacitated, and became even more baggage. He watched as you backpedaled from the ledge. "I can't," you answered, slightly ashamed, "it's too far of a jump. I can't do it."

You watched as Raph easily bounded across, landing in front of you. "Here," he motioned for you to step in, and you did, where he then picked you right up into his arms and started backing further away. He'd lended you a helping hand before, a catch, sometimes, but never had he picked you up like this. "Wrap your arms around my neck, this is a little dodgy," he instructed you. He tried to ignore the fluttery feeling it gave him when you did what he'd said to do, wrapping your arms around his sturdy neck as he got ready to leap the gap. You were comfortable enough—Raph was strong. Really strong. But the threat of you both falling still have you anxiety, and for that, you had to clamp your eyes shut.

Without a word, he took off in a dash, one powerful leg launching the both of you off the edge. His arms tightened around you somehow more than they had been before. And for a brief second you felt wind. You still couldn't open your eyes, only focused on the feeling of almost absolute security in Raph's grip. Next was the hard landing, which jarred you out of your brief moment of warmth. He grunted, following through into a crouch and setting you down on your feet.

"You alright?" you asked him, concerned, placing a light hand on his shell.

He had a level of endurance that far exceeded the average person's, but even Raph was getting tired. He despised feeling weak, but his body was now actively working against him. He felt slow and heavy for his standards, running on fumes and secretly desperate for rest. As good of a sleep as he could get without worrying about being ambushed by something, be it human or otherwise. He knew he'd be back to the grind soon enough though because you needed sleep, too, and he would die before leaving you undefended in such a vulnerable state.

You realized then just now exhausted he was as he rose, taking in a deep breath. "I'm alright, let's just...clear the place and get in there," he said.

He approached the door into the stairwell and listened for a second before trying the knob. Locked. He was impatient to get in and finally be able to rest, so he just kicked the door in with everything he had, deciding to deal with anything that might be in there as they came. You grimaced; stairwells were awful places to fight anyone or anything.

Collecting yourself, you came over and peered in along with him. "Easy there, shouldn't we be quiet?" you questioned him in earnest.

He never intended to be rude to you, but his mood got the best of him, and he snapped back with a sigh, "Look, I'll get rid of them, okay? It's not like you're the one going in and killing them, so just stay out of the way and let me get it done."

You backed out of the doorway and shot him a look as if to say, are you serious? You knew Raph was prone to moodiness, but you'd never expected it to be targeted your way.

Shit. He slapped his hand onto the doorframe and leaned his forehead on it, groaning. Not even at you, but himself, because he'd just snapped at his only friend and ally out here at the moment. Seeing the flash of the look of hurt on your face at his words made him feel like a total asshole.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled after a minute of uncomfortable silence. He looked back at you, eyes falling on the sombreness of your expression. "I'm just tired. I'll be more careful here on out, if it makes you feel better. I know you're just trying to look out for us, trust me. I do."

"It's okay," you said softly. "Don't worry about it. Let's get in there now, yeah?" you nudged him, stepping in. You looked over the railing in search of anything suspicious. Oxidized blood, the hybrid mutagenic fluid that the Infectors secreted. No, it all appeared clean. But that didn't mean it was safe. Raph descended the stairs slowly, listening for anything he could pick up on. The two of you were surprised that it seemed clear, maybe even skeptical, but it didn't stop you as your paced picked up. Raph kept you behind him at all times with his sai out and ready.

"You think it's good?" you whisper, leaning your head over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the surroundings in the hallway you had just been lead into, still searching for any red flags.

There was nothing. No sounds, no signs of infected, and deathly quiet. The lack of noise disturbed Raph more than anything, but if it meant one night of peace, he'd take anything he could get.

"The residents must've abandoned this place when the evacs happened," you noted.

"Everyone should have stayed. Maybe then we would have had a chance of actually containing this thing and Donnie wouldn't have to be busting his ass to save us all. If that's even possible at this point."

He let his guard down a little. All he wanted to do was pick out any random apartment and take it over for the night. Trying the one on his left, the door slowly opened to reveal a messy studio, papers strewn about, cabinets still open, things discarded on the floor. He almost melted just seeing the couch, let alone a bed.

You were watching the hall just to make sure, but felt his calloused hand land on your forearm, pulling you in.

"Wow," you breathed out. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see such a mess. I feel like I haven't slept in three years," you muttered to yourself, shutting the door behind you.

Raph wandered around the room as he made his last checks behind the counters and such before he finally relaxed and slid his sais back into their holders. "No kidding," he commented. "I'd bet there's nothing to eat in here, though."

"Can't hurt to try."

Turned out that there wasn't anything but a couple of granola bars and a single bottle of water you'd found under the kitchen table. Probably rolled under there and the owner never noticed, but you were running low on your water supply, as your backpack was starting to feel light.

Raph kept the blinds closed tight in fear of being spotted from the window, even though it was practically a wasteland out there, but you couldn't help but part them a bit to catch a glimpse of the sun going down. That beautiful, warm glow that the Golden Hour produced, and the way it painted the sky. Though, it wasn't all that visible from where you were.

Sunset came and went and gave way to night. It was dark in the apartment; no electricity was being routed there, and so the only thing that lit up the area was the lone lantern you had sitting on the coffee table. Your eyelids were becoming so heavy that you couldn't stop to care if the furniture had bed bugs or other gross stuff. It was comfortable on your aching back, that's what mattered. You lay down on it and was already dozing off when Raph padded by. He stopped. You were so tired, he could see that. He could stand to stay up for a few more hours, he told himself—he would do that.

As you slept, he spent his time cleaning his weapons, adjusting his gear, snacking on what little the two of you shared. Also thinking. About how tired he was in that moment, his brothers (wherever they were), and finally...you. He found his gaze shifting from the knife in his lap that he'd been sharpening to you, sound asleep on the couch and for the first time in days, looking at peace. You had dark circles under your eyes, bumps and scrapes all over your body, yet for a little while, you'd forgotten all about it. Because you were asleep, obviously, but even though he was downright beat, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. Not yet, at least. The clock on the wall was still ticking on. It was quiet, except for that—Raph couldn't complain. He softened watching you. There was something comforting to him about being able to drop the act and just observe you without having to talk. He wasn't always good at talking. He judged that perhaps you were only trying to fill the silence when you kept rambling or muttering, which was understandable. It made him wonder briefly if you felt awkward when he was quiet.

Raph was on his proverbial last leg in terms of his wakefulness when he heard your voice, the slightest call that was almost inaudible. He set his gear aside and shifted towards you where he sat on the coffee table, trying to figure out if you were only dreaming, or if you really needed something.

"You awake?" he whispered.

Arm dangling off the couch, you rested your face on your other hand. "Yeah," you answered through a dry throat. He remembered the bottle of water from earlier and reached into the backpack at his feet, handing it to you. He'd already drank over half of it.

"How long have you been laying there awake while I could have been getting some shut-eye?" he jested. You did your best to muster a smile, but it wasn't going. It wasn't like you to be so solemn.

He spoke again as you downed the rest of the water, "Uh...joking. Are you—"

"Can you hold me?"

You weren't looking at him. Your eyes were closed, and on the inside, you asked yourself why you'd said it. Maybe it was the mid-sleep grogginess, or you had just lost all care in the world. He was staring at you, but in the low light, you could hardly see his expression. He swallowed; oh, how this had taken him off guard.

"Just for a little bit."

He was going to stammer out something, he wasn't sure what, but anything to relieve the mix of awkward embarrassment he was feeling. He wanted to crawl into that couch with you, to feel the warmth of your body against his cold one—why couldn't he move? Why was it so hard to just say: "Yes, I can hold you."

He could fight. He could defend. What he couldn't do was comprehend his own emotions.

"I, uh…do you feel unsafe, or something?" He felt stupid to ask that, but that part of his mind wanted to rationalize your request. He would feel vulnerable in your shoes. He knew that for a fact. But really, he was aware that wasn't the case, you feeling unsafe; he was there. Your sentinel, willing to push himself as far as he possibly could, and then some.

A sigh left you, and the single word, "Please."

No more thinking. Just do.

He sat up, tentative in his approach to your tired form. You shifted back as far into the cushions of the couch that you could, offering him the space on the edge. He climbed down, and after a minute of trying to situate all of your limbs, he was finally comfortable. He would be lying to say his heart wasn't beating faster, that it didn't feel weird to drape his arm around you the way he did, being pressed against your back like that. Despite everything, it felt natural. Right. Like he'd been missing something that whole time, and as soon as he had pulled you into him, he had a revelation.

There were no words exchanged. Just the sound of the clock ticking and the both of your breaths as you were lulled back into sleep. He couldn't sleep yet. You still had an hour to go before it was his turn. Not that it bothered him. Not then; he wanted to be conscious for this, the feeling of fullness he had with how you seemed to fit against his body so well. The contrast of soft skin to his scales, his lean, solid muscles compared to your own less-developed. His fingers brushed along your wrist in some of the lightest touches he'd ever administered. His leg found its way over your own.

What started rigid and awkward now had melted him. His body hadn't felt that loose in a long time.

Whatever the next move was, he was fine with it. The team was close to finding each other after four days of separation. There was a horde forming outside, gathering up to blow through the city in one last sweep. But as long as they got where they needed to go, he didn't mind it at all.

a/n: i 100% did not feel like explaining how or why they got separated from the rest of the group just be along for the ride bby

[hlizr50]

Gwynriel Week Day 4 - Music

I'm back, my lovelies. Appreciate the patience.

Let's talk MUSIC, because I have established (with OVERWHELMING support) that Gwyneth Berdara would absolutely LOVE Taylor Swift and would 100% convert Azriel. He would play all begrudging and 'you have questionable tastes, Berdara' but behind closed doors and when they're alone together he's all in. And T. Swift has EVERYTHING. They can be lovey, they can be playful, they can be bitter. There are SO many options.

And, of course, I wouldn't be me if writing weren't involved.

I've started the series called 'Gwynriel and Her Highness Taylor Swift' on AO3, which will follow our favorite couple in AU fics with a sprinkling of T. Swift. You can read the first one, 'You Belong with Me', here.

And now I present the next installment:

Safe and Sound

Read on AO3

TW: Brief mention of past sexual assault and violence - no details, just that it happened

Gwyn's nightmares rear their ugly heads and Azriel is there to comfort her. She tells him about what happened the night her sister died and he finally understands the shadows he sees behind her happy eyes. She's afraid it might ruin their relationship only hours after it's begun, but he's there to prove her wrong - with the help of a little T. Swift lullaby.

The night was shattered by a blood-curdling scream.

Azriel’s eyes flew open and he sat up, frantically searching in the dark. It took a few moments for the fog of sleep to burn away from his brain. He was at the cabin. For vacation. He’d come a day early to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. With Gwyn. They were a couple. Officially. The first few hours had been absolutely ordinary and wonderful.

“Stop! Please stop!”

Gwyn. Fuck, it was Gwyn!

He was out of bed and out the door in a second, sprinting down the hall. “Gwyn!” he called as he reached the closed door, but the screaming, the crying – it didn’t stop. Not giving himself time to overthink he turned the knob and pushed the door open wide. The room was bathed in the faintest glow of moonlight, allowing him to see the flailing form on the bed, tangled in sheets and begging the demons that were in her dreams.

When he reached the side of the bed his heart may have cracked open. Her forehead glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, her eyes were screwed tight, and her cheeks shimmered with tears.

“No. No, no, no,” she cried through clenched teeth, and Azriel decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t know what to do, but he needed to help her, to draw her away from whatever was tormenting her. He reached through her flying arms and cupped her cheeks between his hands.

“Gwyn. Wake up!” he called to her, willing her to wake. “Gwyn, please, it’s a nightmare. You’re safe, sweetheart.” Her eyes shot open, teal pools swimming with fear and confusion. Her limbs had stopped writhing, but God he could feel her shaking.

“Azriel?” she whispered weakly.

“Yes, Gwyn. It’s me. Don’t be scared.” He let his thumbs brush over her cheeks, wiping away tears that still fell freely over her freckled cheeks. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What can I do?”

She stared at him, chest heaving with deep ragged breaths, as if contemplating what to do. Azriel could understand. This was a vulnerable moment, and even though they’d been close friends for a couple years this was new territory. He had never heard her have a nightmare, and it wrenched into his gut like a knife. The feeling of uncertainty, of not knowing how to help her, only served to prove how deeply he cared about her. Their relationship was only hours old, but that was only because he’d been a coward and not because he hadn’t wanted to be with her - hadn't been falling for her already.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Not really. But we probably should.”

When new tears started leaking out from under her thick lashes he released her cheeks and stepped a knee onto the mattress. Scooping her up he leaned against the headboard and folded his legs in front of him, tucking the fiery crown of copper hair beneath his chin. He gave her time, content to trace fingers lightly over the thin t-shirt covering her back.

“Az, I… there’s something you should know. Something you should’ve known before you decided you wanted to be in a relationship with me.”

His brows furrowed. “You think it would change my mind?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, voice barely even a whisper. The silence stretched again. He couldn’t imagine what bombshell she thought might doom this before it even began. “How much do you know about the night my sister died?”

Azriel’s hand stilled on her back. This was not the direction he’d expected the conversation to go. But he shouldn’t be too surprised – it was indeed a nightmare-inducing event.

“Not too much. Just that she was killed in your apartment,” he answered, resuming the soothing stroke of his hands up and down her spine. “Nesta said there was more, but that it was your story to tell.”

“I guess it’s your lucky night,” she shrugged in his arms and let out a bitter wet laugh. Azriel just gave her an encouraging squeeze and leaned his cheek into her silky hair.

“Catrin was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. He was abusive, possessive, controlling. He couldn’t handle it when she broke it off with him. And he hated me. He thought that their breakup was my fault. That night he broke into the apartment with a gun and shot Catrin in the head. Killed her instantly. But… he waited there.” Gwyn took a shaky breath. “He waited in the apartment. For me.”

Azriel drew back from her, dread coiling his muscles in grim anticipation. She looked up at him, eyes dull with resignation. He had never seen her wear that expression before – it made his insides feel oily and wrong. His hand remained at her back, and he was determined to keep that calming presence there for her. Trailing his gaze down from her face, over her shoulders, and down her arms, he found her fingers fidgeting in her lap. He took his free hand and covered her delicate fingers, his palm large enough to envelop both of her speckled hands. He lifted his eyes to meet her teal pools again, lifting the corners of his mouth in a soft smile and squeezing gently with his fingers.

He was there for her. Whatever she needed he would give it.

Gwyn’s lashes lowered, breaking her hold on him. He blinked and tried to control his breathing, remaining dedicated to being fully invested in the woman in his arms. The woman who was baring her soul to him.

“He…” she gulped a breath and moved her fingers so they were grasping his hand instead of the other way around. She clung to it, grip like a vice as she mustered her courage. “He raped me. He told me I took her away from him, so he took her away from me. And that I would never, ever forget him.”

There was no air left in the room, Azriel was certain. His lungs wouldn’t work, his mouth was full of sand, his fingers tingling with vengeful need. All he could hear was Gwyn’s tearful, labored panting and echoes of the terror-filled screams that had ripped him from sleep.

“Christ, Gwyn,” he gritted out. The hand on her back lifted to cup her head and pull her to him. “I’m so sorry.” Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder she got nervous in large crowds and around people she didn’t know. No wonder she didn’t feel safe out in the world. The cruelty she had experienced, the evil she had been forced to endure – it was unimaginable. And somehow she still found the strength to smile and laugh and be a pure ray of sunshine to the people around her.

“Obviously the nightmares are one thing, but… but you should know I haven’t done anything with anyone since that night. Not until you kissed me.”

Azriel hissed a curse, grasping her shoulders and pushing her back so he could see her face. “Did I frighten you when I did that?” he asked desperately. If he’d only known, he would have approached that differently. He felt cool hands on his cheeks, breaking him from his panicked reverie.

“No, Az. Not at all.” His heart calmed, and then nearly stopped as she smiled sweetly. “I should have found it terrifying. Honestly, had it been anyone else I probably would have. But, with you it was… amazing. Like magic.”

He couldn’t contain the toothy grin that blossomed when she said that. Like magic. He had felt it, too, but he just figured the magic part was her. He slid his hands from her shoulders to cup her jaw and leaned in to brush his lips across her brow.

“So we need to talk about what makes you feel uncomfortable. So I can make sure you feel safe with me.” Azriel let a thumb slide over the freckles painting her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Gwyn. I couldn’t forgive myself if I triggered something – if I hurt you.”

Gwyn tilted her head and looked at him curiously, blue-green pools shining with something he couldn’t quite identify. “So…” she began, then trailed off and lowered her gaze. He felt her throat work under his fingers as she looked back to him. “So it doesn’t bother you?”

He regarded her carefully. “What do you mean?” Of course it bothered him. She’d been hurt, and she was still reliving that pain. He wanted to take it away, to make sure she never felt that way again. And he wanted to kill the bastard that had dared to lay a hand on her.

“That you have to be so careful with me,” she answered quietly before lowering those thick lashes and turning her chin away from him. He still had his hands on her jaw, but he let her move as she wished. “And that… that I don’t know what I’ll be able to do, in terms of intimacy. At least at this point- “

“Gwyneth Berdara.” Azriel gently turned her chin back to him. “I wouldn’t give a flying fuck if you wouldn’t do more than hold my hand. I care about you, not sex. Now, what do you like? What should I avoid?” Gwyn wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled herself back into his chest.

“I like this,” she sighed. He wrapped his arms back around her and went back to rubbing his hands over her back. “I think I’m probably okay with most things along the lines of hugs and kisses. As long as it’s not a surprise.”

He chuckled at that. “So no sneaking up and grabbing you from behind?” He pressed a kiss into her hair.

“I like that, too. The kisses.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and she giggled when he kissed her crown again. “And absolutely no grabbing me from behind,” she confirmed.

“And for anything more, we go at your pace. Whatever you want to try, whenever you want more, you need only ask.” Silence lengthened between them, the night filled with only calm breathing and the gentle scratch of fingers over cotton.

“Do you have nightmares often? I…” Azriel paused, the heaviness of shame creeping into his chest. They were good friends, spent a lot of time together. How did he not know that this was a struggle she faced? “I don’t remember ever hearing anything before.”

“It’s not that bad anymore. But when I’m somewhere unfamiliar sometimes the anxiety triggers them,” Gwyn answered, her fingers fidgeting into the hair at his nape. “I… part of the reason I said I would come early with you was to see what would happen. And if it was a problem, I could go home without anyone being the wiser. I had already checked with Nesta to make sure you could ride back with her and Cassian.”

The softness of her voice – laced with embarrassment – cut into him. “Berdara,” he practically growled. He grasped her shoulders and pushed back so he could look her in the eye. “You were going to leave? Why?” He knew the reason. She’d said it only hours earlier. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.

“Az,” she started, averting her gaze. “The prospect of waking up all of my friends in the middle of the night, screaming and begging, is legitimately mortifying.” He moved his hand to cup her cheek, even though she still wouldn’t look up at him.

“Gwyn, do you think any of us would have a problem with it? That we would judge you?” Even if they all didn’t know the depth of her trauma, she was not the only one with demons that attacked in the night. The answering murmur was almost too quiet to hear, but the words rang loud in his ears.

“I don’t want to cause a scene.”

Azriel thought over the last day. The road trip, the realizations. The determination that had filled him after he watched her dance behind the steering wheel, eyes glittering with mischief. The relief that coursed through his veins, the sunshine that had warmed his soul when she said she’d wanted him to kiss her for awhile, too. The soft smiles, her giggles, the comfort they seemed to share. All the while, beneath the surface, demons and nightmares and fear and pain. How was it that she could be so strong, so resilient? The smiles Gwyn gave to their friends, to him, were genuine and bright. Her laughter was always musical and lively, without even an echo of sorrow.

The shadows behind her eyes had come for her tonight. And she had planned to go home, with whatever weak excuse, and fight them alone.

Not fucking happening.

He cupped her other cheek and pulled her jaw up, that same determination from the previous day emboldening him. “Look at me, Gwyn.” He could feel the heat in her cheeks on his palms, and when her eyelashes lifted he was met with shallow pools darkened with uncertainty, shining with wetness. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? You’re going to stay here and enjoy your vacation because, like I said before, it’s not as much fun without you around.” He bore his gaze into her with an intensity he was unaccustomed to possessing. She sniffled in response, which only melted his heart further, and blinked a few times – clearly trying to keep tears in check as she managed a nod.

“You’re a part of this family, Gwyn. We support each other. We love each other. If anyone else were here tonight instead of me, they would have run here just as quickly as I did. And if it happens again tomorrow night, you’ll probably have the whole gaggle trying to squeeze through the door all at once.” A few stray tears fell from her eyes as a giggle escaped her. Azriel leaned in, capturing each tear between his lips and her cheeks. “You don’t have to deal with this alone. Let us be here for you. Let me.”

At that, the dam broke. Gwyn reached for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He could feel the warm wetness of her tears on his skin, feel her body shake violently against him. Winding his arms around her back, he rocked them back and forth and whispered into her hair.

It’s okay.

I’m here.

You’re not alone.

He started to hum as her sobs began to quiet, still rocking with her in his embrace. He smiled softly to himself. He wouldn’t know this song if it weren’t for her. He didn’t share his voice with many people, but Gwyn had heard it many times. He broke into soft lyrics as the redhead continued to calm in his arms.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down

You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now

Come morning light you and I’ll be safe and sound

“Are you…” Gwyn’s thick voice was muffled in his neck. “Are you singing me Taylor Swift?”

Azriel chuckled. “I’ll deny it to everyone we know.” Her head tilted back, and the laugh that lifted into the air was one of the loveliest things he’d ever heard. A pealing bell of joy. She brought her gaze back to him and pulled on his neck to lean his forehead against hers. “I may or may not have come to appreciate the creative works of Taylor Swift. You’ve worn me down, Berdara.” He kept his arms around her back, even as her had moved over his cheek. Her teal stare was alight with emotion, the brightness reflected in a small – but radiant – smile.

“Thank you, Az,” she whispered before pressing her lips so softly to his. When she pulled back, he mirrored her grin.

“I don’t know much about being a good boyfriend,” he offered with a shrug, “but I feel like supporting your girlfriend’s potentially dubious music tastes and comforting her after nightmares are minimum standards. Standards that I hope to far exceed.”

“Well, I know it’s been less than a day – and I don’t really have much to compare you to – but I think you’re doing great.” Gwyn tapped a finger to his nose, and his eyes crinkled. Azriel lifted his chin and brushed his lips over her brow.

“That’s good. I have a number for you to call if you have any complaints.” He shifted slightly when his girlfriend yawned. “You think you can go back to sleep?”

“I dunno,” she murmured.

“Is there anything that has helped? In the past? Helped you get back to sleep?” Azriel absentmindedly rubbed a few strands of copper hair between his fingers. Gwyn gave a wry smile, but it faded quickly. “What?”

“Nesta would cuddle with me, when we lived together. She would hold onto me… it was like she would anchor me back to reality. To safety,” her voice was wistful, eyes distant. “But I couldn’t ask you to –“

“Do you want me to stay with you, Gwyn?” He traced a thumb in circles over her back. “If you’re comfortable with that, I will. Gladly. If you think it will help.” Azriel could only imagine that his own demons might also be subdued with her by his side.

Gwyn pushed away from him gently and he helped her move out of his lap. He watched her settle back onto the mattress, laying on her side facing him and pulling the blanked up toward her. She kept it lifted and lifted her eyes to him. His mouth curled up and he shimmied easily under the blanket to settle beside her.

“You tell me, Gwyn,” he whispered. Azriel didn’t want to presume how she would want him, instead seeking her guidance.

“Ummm… maybe stay on your back?” she replied. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the pillow, letting her move to where she wanted to be.

Gwyn sidled over to him and tentatively leaned up to place her head on his chest, tucking her hand under her chin. She wiggled a little bit, burrowing into her position.

“Comfy?” Azriel chuckled, receiving a contented ‘hmmm’ in return. He kept the arm closest to her tucked under his head, but he brought his other hand across him and grabbed the hand at her chin, weaving their fingers together. He brought their hands to his lips, pressing her knuckles against them. “No more fears, Berdara. I’m here. You’re safe.” He settled their joined hands over his abdomen, already feeling her heavy against him. Azriel stared into the dark, a warm blanket of contentment and strength settling over him. He had nightmares, too, things he also kept from nearly everyone. He would share those things with Gwyn, show her that she was not the only one with demons that attacked in dreams and that neither of them were alone. He had never felt so confident in the potential of a relationship, in the potential that he would be understood and accepted and loved. He already knew he would give those things to her - and more. With that newfound confidence he closed his eyes, her steady breathing lulling him to join her in peaceful, painless sleep.

[starshipsofstarlord]

The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Three

Previous Parts | Part One | Part Two

Series Masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Summary | one of the many things that you had never had the chance of doing was disposing of a body; luckily for you, you know just the right person who can tend to your aid.

Warnings | mentions of death, disposing of a body, mentions and aftermath of murder, mentions of rape, mentions of sex, swearing, mention of suicide

The smell of the carcass had your nose turning up, and the sight wasn’t much better. There was blood staining your lovely dress, that Lee had taken off hours prior. Now it was ruined, with the red digress of your husband; he always had to taint everything, and it still appeared to apply despite him being deceased.

Your eyes wallowed with water, as you thought of the mistakes you had made. There were so many, and marrying Simon had been of the greatest, considering that his treatment of you had been beyond disgraceful. And now, the red of his departed insides was sticking beneath his nails, causing you to gag.

This part, the slashing and ripping apart of his limbs, using your trusty shovel, had been worse than actually committing the initial crime. Killing him had been bliss, but this, reminded you of the possible consequences that you would be forced to partake in.

“Oh no.” You heaved, feeling nauseous from the pungent aroma, grasping at the top of your chest in sickness. You dropped his hand, that felt ironically lighter now that he was dead, letting it fall with the other parts of his distorted, and broken, body.

The worst part of all was, now that you had control of where his palms were permitted to go, and the power had you feeling complete. It had you basking in your own glory, but now, you were lost, grieving the path that you had lost regarding the man that you truly were infatuated with.

Walking backwards, and closing the shed door, you abandoned the sections of Simon, hurrying back into your empty home, and going towards your lined phone. Without caring about the prints of blood that you were padding onto the numerical keys, you dialled a woman that you knew to be in the business of cold body abandon.

For a minute, the line rang, leaving you antsy and picking at your stained nails, chipping away at the surrounding skin. All you could smell was the reminder of blood, that smothered you in a hermit of remembrance.

A remembrance of the times that he would splatter your body with his self, claiming that you were his wife, and even bragging about it to the fellas that he worked closely with. But you were nothing more than a shadow in his eyes, a prize that followed him around the house, flaunting her terrified doe eyes at his silhouette.

His greatest flaw was, aside from his poisonous and lingering touch, that smothered you in the cruelest of ways, was that he thought he was aware of everything that went on around him. It was as though he thought he were the sheriff...

But behind his turned back, your shadow would dance with the image of Lee Bodecker, in a private and disclosed matter. He was the true sheriff of the town, the wine who could order you to do anything, and you would wilfully comply.

Lee had, and never would hurt you. That was the definite difference between the polar pair. He was a lovely gentleman, and Simon, well, he was more like a rat swimming out of the sewer.

All these thoughts and actions of adultery were fair play, you slept with Lee behind the now scathed and chopped up back of your husband, whilst he bedded as many women that were actually willing to slumber with.

You were not dumb to his pattern, each night when he went out, he was pursuing a dame, but that never bothered you, because while he was out, the sheriff would make a stop, and check you over, in more ways than one.

Finally, you running with your thoughts was disrupted, for the ringing ceased. A upbeat and facade of a ‘hello’ rang though your ears, making you breathe a much deserved intake of relief.

“Hey Sandy.” You replied, holding the phone aggressively against your ear. Anything she had to say, you were willing to listen to, after all, she was a master in the ways of murder, as you knew and were trusted peculiarly with that detail of secrecy. “I need your help.”

The sound of Simon’s body parts beating around the trunk as sandy surpassed over a bump in the road reverberated through the entire vehicle. It soothed the initial silence that was exhibited in it, and nervously, you licked your thin lips, hoping that you would reach the ‘middle of nowhere’ soon.

It wasn’t that you and Sandy didn’t get along, in fact, you got along great, which was one of the reasons that she insisted to husband Carl that they leave you alive. But it was the fact that there was an unspoken gesture that waded through the air, like a muting toxin.

“Does Lee know?” She asked, finally breaking the silence like ice. It was a relief to hear voice, deep down, you were insecure that she was silently judging you for the entire ride, or at least, how far you had gone so far.

“No, and I intend for it to have a cap kept on it.” You slunk your shoulders, whilst thinking of Sandy’s sibling. He was far too good for you, he was the sheriff, and now, you deemed yourself as nothing more than a murderer.

The fact that you were a survivor of all sorts of horrid extremes wouldn’t matter to the boys in blue, they would not see you past your crime, and you feared that sheriff Bodecker would not either.

“Son of a bitch had it coming to him anyways.” Stated Sandy, being heartless to her admission. “The sight of you and that prick drove my brother insane. We all knew what he was doing to you, yet, they wouldn’t charge him, all because you were simply married to him.”

“What would you have done if Carl had dared lay his hands on you in an in-consensual manner?” You asked, plucking away at the trim of your clean skirt. Before you had left to go on this joyous trip with Sandy, you had changed, all in favour of the neighbours, and anyone else you happened to pass.

“I’d have done the same darling.” She comforted you, looking away from the road for a moment, to send you a quick and sincere smile. Things within the car were falling into their previous rhythm, it being apparent that the two of you were good and well adversed friends. “I wanted to kill Simon too, you know? But with the threats I have made in the past, it would have been far too suspicious.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, suddenly feeling guilty that if it were found to be known that Simon was butchered, Sandy would be interrogated, most likely from her own brother. “How is Carl?” You changed the subject, shifting under the grip of the seat belt.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you how my lovesick brother is?” She replied, laughing lightly at your warm face. “He’s still head over heels for you girl, and yet, the other man won your heart.”

“I wouldn’t say won it, I’d say he manipulated it.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest to pave down the swell of tension inside. “I’d always told myself, and you, that I’d choose Lee Lee, but high school was a long time ago, and I can’t go back to sneaking kisses with him under the bleachers when your back was turned.”

“Trust me, I knew all along.” She smiled, thinking back to the simpler times. “And though, I know when he was training to be a deputy, he’d told you he had no time for a relationship, and he didn’t exactly expect you to wait for him. But you may as well have, considering the two of you continued to fornicate like wild rabbits.”

“Please stop.” You groaned at her words, covering your face with your clear and evidence free hands. “And we did not fornicate like-“

“My bedroom was right beside yours when we got that apartment, and before then, well it was against Lee’s. Trust me, when I say that I know off by heart how you sound in bed sweetie. And god, did I grimace as I heard you mewling my brother’s name.”

Breathily you laughed, thinking back to the times that were spoke of. “Sandy.” You spoke her name, earning a radical hum in reply. “I love Lee.”

“Trust me darling, I am well aware of that. The two of you are like Romeo and Juliet, except you’ve killed someone else rather than taken your own life. And then, there’s never been anything holding the two of you apart-“

“Okay, you’re trying to make a point here Sand. Nothing like Romeo and Juliet, I got it.” You nodded your head, before leaning it back into the plumpness of the head rest. “And then there’s you and Carl, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Sweetie, you’re a killer too now, so I wouldn’t make comparisons. You’re just lucky that the first suspect for Simon’s disappearance will be a man, and then we’ll see where I am on that list. And you know me, I will always protect you, it’s what we do.”

“It is what we do.” You repeated, watching the road ahead, and tapping your feet in tune with the floundering of Simon’s own rolling feet.

Tags;

@charmed-asylum @brynthebulldozer @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @acciosiriusblack

[rrasado]

No Spider Lilies : I

|| Act 2 of The Snapping ||

A/N: Ara? What’s this? I never thought I’d find myself wanting to actually re-end this accidental series dksjsn but...I wasn’t satisfied and frankly I’m craving an even more sorrowful route. Who knows? After all...this all deviates from the main story line in game. As usual I shall provide any necessary trigger warnings to ensure a safe reading for you all 💙🌒💙. Pleas tell if you want to be part of a tag list for the next parts. I’ll be using my past tag list as basis but if you don’t wanna be tagged next time don’t hesitate to tell me ^ ^.

Tagging: @starshiningsirius @dittoqueeno @thatweirdomidas @bnhastakenover

__________________________________________

And when death do them part…

...would it really fulfill that cruelty?

Storm clouds formed high above, raindrop cascading down on everything on the face of the earth indiscriminately. The residents of that lamenting house deep in the Devildom never really cared for such details lest it concerned them and their doings directly. At least...that was when they didn’t know how to care, so what happened?

__________________________________________

The records...the way the aged parchment felt in the exchange student’s hand just signified the reality of the parchment’s contents. No excuse can dismiss such news, especially one of this degree… They could barely speak in the moment, a few deafeningly silent minutes passed before they peered up at the Devildom prince’s own butler.

“I...thank you Barbatos…”

Their gratitude was much more meaningful than at face value, the scale of the revelation they had just received isn’t something to be taken lightly and since it especially concerns them, well…

“I trust that you’re taking all of it in?... I can only imagine how you feel right after...certain prior events.”

They both knew what the time bonded demon was referring to, after all it was him who escorted them to their new place of residence for the rest of their stay here at the Devildom. Hah..that was already two months ago. Now that they thought of it...Barbatos have always been there for them huh? The reveal...the dorm transfer requesting...and now this. Whether it was due to his time related prowess or sheer coincidence which- they honestly dismissed after everything that has come to play- the human was grateful.

“Yeah...I think...I’m actually thankful for this”

Barbatos blinked for a good few good seconds before arching a brow at their proclamation. Thankful? Does the human not know what the contents make of them? His confusion was brought to a close when MC casually waved the parchment, it’s sounds accompanied by the night wind that whizzed past the two in front of Purgatory Hall.

“I feared the worst, humans tend to...be easily toppled by the unexpected per se...Then again you are the great exception”

“Eheh I’m honored you hold me in high regard. Because it’ll make my next proposal a bit easier”

And yet again, the butler’s confusion returned, proposal? Well after everything that has spiraled leading up to where they stand it honestly wasn’t that far fetched to him, so with an affirmative nod he gestured for them to continue.

“Hearing of it won’t hurt, what is it you wish then?”

He didn’t miss the way MC’s lips tugged upward in subtle relief. The human’s gaze quickly flickered back to the contents of the parchment and without looking up they spoke.

“Can I count on you if I need to make a wretched departure?”

De...parture? He had a hunch but he needs more context…

“In what sense does this departure fall on for you to need my assistance?”

“Hm...a departure that looks grimmer to those you choose to be grim to.”

The two turned their heads to thewhite haired sorcerer. An ever knowing smirk on his expression as he stood there arms crossed. How long has he been eavesdropping? Not that MC minded...after all they’ve grown to actually trust the shady sorcerer along with the other two angelic residents of Purgatory Hall.

“Truth be told, I've been conducting research of my own… and to a pleasant surprise it seems my lead was not entirely off!”

Childish tone aside, his gaze showed no sign of jest nor kid. In one flick of his finger the old parchment apparated within Solomon’s grasp. And if possible the smug aura on his features grew twofold along with an amused chuckled escaping his parted lips. My oh my did he always manage to come so close yet far..

“Would you believe me if I said I was prepared to act on my pact in the making of this negotiation?”

“Fufufu I do believe that we’re still in the phase of hearing this proposal... I have yet to bestow a verdict so you shouldn’t speak so mightily Solomon.”

“And if I may continue..”

..

…

…..

“...I see…”

The sheer collateral damage at stake is something of its own degree when not tended to with precise caution. He's only delivered the news tonight and yet it was as if they’ve been concucting such a proposition for a considerable amount of time. Then again...the sorcerer did mention doing his own antics regarding the subject.

“With all that said...Barbatos, will you lend us a hand or a place at blade point?”

His shoulders rose and fell with the seconds that passed before he gave a slow curt nod at the two humans.

“Hm… if it means something, the young Lord did vow behind closed doors that he shall keep all the exchange students safe no matter what it may cost...and seeing as it will technically align with my duties..”

A chorus of amused laughter spilled from the magicless human, lips curled into a grin whilst the sorcerer could only let out a chuckle or two.

“Barbatos, I thank you. I know you won’t state it as is but, your help is very much appreciated”

“It really is, and it puts me at ease knowing I have you on our side in this whole issue…”

“If I may...I’d like to evaluate this more into much prefaced details. Would it be alright if we were to properly prepare this? After all...this especially concerns you, MC”

Said human gave an affirmative nod as their hands clasped behind their back, fiddling with their own exposed fingers as the late night breeze passed the three of them yet again.

“It’s best we all retire...who knows what’ll happen if we idle out here any longer, an interesting sight to see this particular roster of residents out of premises at this hour noh?”

“Point taken...well we’ll see you next time Barb”

“Yes...I bid you two a good evening and a hopefully peaceful night.”

A wish so innocent yet truthfully hard to attain...especially with the cruel revelation that brought the three of them together in the first place. They should learn to tread carefully from here on out. At least...that’s what Solomon thought. That same night breeze had passed the gardens, among which were multiple blossoms yet to bloom, all but one crimson lily...

__________________________________________

And from a starry night it all flickers to that unforgiving herd of rain clouds, their own right of sorrow spiraling along with those that received their cold moist. If followed...those raindrops fall onto someone crouched form, in front of a chipped tombstone amidst any ordinary cemetery that lays barren with the weather.

A lone umbrella covered the crouched form, rendering any other incoming rain from soaking the tuft of white hair any further. Mammon didn’t need to look up and see who it was offering cover. Levi didn’t care whether he himself got wet and frankly not even the rain water on his skin put him at any ease whatsoever. No one could be comforted at this point… And whatever it was to put the usually bickering brothers in such hushed silence…

“We gotta get going y’know…”

“...five more mins…”

“Lucifer is getting restless the more you push your luck-“

“Then let him dammit”

Levi didn’t even bother questioning his brother's lack of fear for the first born. Normally he would’ve made fun of it but… when his orange hued gaze fell on to what was even engraved on the chipped tombstone. It didn’t sit right with him, heck it didn’t sit right with any of them. And who could blame them...the guilt crawling on their backs never left when they saw them leave the House of Lamentation. At some point they thought of...eventually getting closure, some of them even had plans.

But now they won’t be able to attain such desirable closure, not when...they aren’t there to listen to their pathetic pleas.

A good few distance away from them was the Avatar of Wrath, observing all of his brothers from the side as he always had. His eyes flickered to each of their situations, emerald orbs not letting a single twitch of an eye nor brow going unnoticed. If allowed to be honest, he found them all utterly pathetic… and he’s already filtered out most dark thoughts that have plagued his mind. Besides, they deserved this, this torment didn’t compare to what those on the opposite end of their mistakes felt. He had every right to speak of so. Thankful for the cover the rain provided he took a sharp step to the side, turning his whole body to the other direction that had garnered a scoff of attention from the the laxer twin.

“..where are you going?”

Hearing Belphie’s question had Satan stop monetarily in his tracks, and without looking back at him he muttered a quick ‘somewhere’ before resuming his strides towards the direction of the cemetery gates.

Belphegor watched the blonde's figure go farther from where he stood, turning his attention back to his twin with a numb look on his features.

“It’s odd…”

A brow was raised at the sudden statement, but at the same time he completely understood what the glutton meant.

Their eyes setting sight on the tombstone mammon and Levi were idling in front of… ‘ A beloved friend and family’ written on the very same tombstone. MC’s full name carved elegantly on its face that used to seem so unreal when they first arrived but, the longer the twins looked the more it actually sank into them.

The human is dead.

Lilith’s descendant is dead.

Beel couldn’t even manage to stomach his food, he knew there was something off when he felt a sudden snuff of energy in the atmosphere that day. Not only him but all of them did...and to think it was actually this.

The guilt kept stacking.

But hidden in their walls of guilt the fourth brother allowed himself to be led towards the cemetery gates, left to his own grim thoughts he couldn’t help but to wonder if..all this will be for the better or for the worse… and in a fraction of a second he was snapped out of his thoughts. The flicker of a shadow barely registering in his peripheral vision..

.hah...

...He wished them all goodluck

__________________________________________

Me, a few months ago:

I’m a clown I know-

As always y’all know the drill, just say if any of you wanna be tagged in the next part ^ ^.

[filmsmakkari]

Satisfied

Wordcount- 2.2k

Hamilton!Tom Holland x Angelica!Reader

Soldier!Tom x Princess!Reader

So this is the first part of a story based on Angelica and Alexander's dynamic in Hamilton :)

i would recommend listening to the song satisfied here

Full Series Masterlist

I remember that night

I just might regret that night for the rest of my days

Being raised the crown princess of the small island nation of Larione had never been easy. Larione wasn’t particularly important to larger countries, only included on a few maps. Many of the citizens lived in poverty and only a powerful marriage alliance with a wealthy royal would solve it. Being born a girl only made things worse. No matter how people will deny it, boys are always favored over girls, especially in royal families. No one would ever take you seriously as a queen without a king by your side. It was imperative that you married a future king- preferably a wealthy one. You’d been raised with the responsibility of marrying for your country’s benefit, so the idea of marrying for love had never even crossed your mind.

I remember those soldier boys trippin’ over themselves to win our praise

It all started at your father’s Winter Ball. Plenty of the continent’s royals were in attendance, all trying to earn you and your sister’s favor. Though Larione’s royal family wasn’t the wealthiest, the (Y/L/N) Sisters were known to be quite beautiful, making you the envy of all. As you socialized with the guests, you noticed a few soldiers flirting with your ladies-in-waiting. You smiled at one of them, Lady Adannaya, as a way of encouraging her to continue their flirtation. That was when you first saw him.

But Alexander, I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face

Another soldier had joined his friends and your ladies. You knew from the moment your eyes landed on him that you would never be the same. He had silky brown hair and a hunger-pang-frame. You wondered if he ate regularly. And oh, good lord those eyes. They were a deep shade of brown, but they shone gold in the light of the candle he was near.  They sparkled with intelligence, wit, and ambition. He must have felt your gaze on him because he suddenly turned to meet your gaze, smiling seductively at you. At that moment it felt as if your heart had been set aflame. He began to approach you. Then it felt as if your entire body had been set aflame.

You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied

“Your highness,” he said, bowing and kissing your hand.

“Good evening, soldier. What is your name?”

“Thomas Holland, your grace,” he replied.

Thomas Holland, you thought. You knew him. Not personally, but you’d heard of him. He was essentially Major General Njeri’s right-hand man. A soldier with a marksman’s ability, and not too bad with a quill either. From your understanding, he wrote all of the general’s correspondences.

“Are you enjoying the ball, Thomas?”

“I am,” he looked you up and down “but you aren’t.”

“Pardon me?”

“All of these suitors, they don’t make you happy, do they?”

“Well, aren’t you perceptive?” you asked, a smirk painting your face.

“Oh, come on.” You made a surprised face, taken aback by his familiar tone. “Suitors, balls, court life, none of this satisfies you, does it, your grace?”

You chuckled in disbelief. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself, Thomas.”

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed a hold of your wrist. You looked down at your wrist, then back up at him, eyes wide in surprise as he spoke.

“I don’t think so, your grace. You see, you’re just like me, I’m never satisfied,” he said genuinely.

“Oh, is that right?” you questioned, forgetting not to show your intrigue. “Where is  your family from, Thomas?”

I asked about his family, did you see his answer?

His hands started fidgeting, he looked askance

He’s penniless, he’s flying by the seat of his pants

You could see the reservation about the topic of his family in his eyes even before he spoke.

He shook his head nonchalantly, but his hands were fidgeting. “Doesn’t matter where my family’s from. I’m going places one day. Just you wait. You’ll see. Just you wait.” And with that, he was back with his soldier friends, leaving you fascinated and slightly lovestruck. You knew it was foolish to have feelings for someone you barely knew, especially being a princess, but you simply couldn’t help it. His boldness and lack of regard for your position ensnared you immediately, and before you’d even spoken much, you knew he had you.

Everything we said in total agreement

You spoke with the handsome soldier boy a few more times that night, always agreeing, constantly sharing the same opinions. It was as if you shared a mind. You never did get to dance with him, but you promised he would have a dance before the night was over. If you hadn’t been sure already, you were then. You were completely and utterly in love with him.

Handsome, boy, does he know it

Peach fuzz and he can’t even grow it

I wanna take him far away from this place

Then I turn and see my sister’s face and she’s

“Helpless,” your sister, Yelizaveta, whom you all affectionately called Eliza, said to you.

She had just pulled you to the side of the ballroom and told you that someone had her “helpless”.

“What do you mean? Who does?” you questioned.

“Him.” Eliza turned, and there he was.

Thomas. The one who had your younger sister so helpless was the very same young soldier who had stolen into your affections.

“He’s wonderful (Y/N/N)!” she turned back to you. “It’s Thomas Holland, General Njeri’s favorite soldier! He’s so handsome and brave.” Your sister was basically swooning by that point.

“Helpless? Eliza, it’s only been one night, are you sure?” You knew you were being hypocritical. You yourself felt deeply in love with Thomas and had also only met him that night. And anyway, you knew she wasn’t exaggerating. You knew your sister like you knew your own mind. All you had to do was look into her eyes and you knew she meant it when she said she was completely helpless for him.

“Yes, sister, I’m sure. He has me,” she replied.

And I realize

Three fundamental truths at the exact same time

You nodded, stroking her face and walking over to him. As you got closer to him, you realized three key truths that you had foolishly allowed yourself to forget.

Number One

I’m a girl in a world in which my only job is to marry rich

My father has no sons so I’m the one who has to social climb for one

You were the oldest of all your sisters, making you (Y/N), Crown Princess of Larione. The future ruler of your country. Crown princess, not prince. You would never be taken seriously as a ruler on your own. Your job was to marry a rich royal, preferably a king or crown prince. Thomas Holland was the furthest possible thing from that. A poor bastard orphan from the Caribbean, with no title or wealth. Simply a soldier favored by a revered general. As a woman, he could give you love, but as the future of the realm, there was nothing he offered you.

“How have I offended you now?” he asked jokingly.

“Not at all,” you said, smiling. “There’s actually someone I’d like you to meet.”

He raised his eyebrows as you grabbed his arm and led him in your sister’s direction.

“Where are you taking me?” he questioned.

“I’m about to change your life.”

“Well then, by all means, lead the way.”

As you approached your sister, she curtsied politely, saying “Princess Yelizaveta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Princess?” Thomas turned to you in confusion, having thought this girl was one of your ladies.

“My sister!” you explained.

“Thank you for all you do, sir,” Eliza said.

“If  it takes fighting a war for us to meet it will have been worth it.”

“I’ll leave you to it!” you said, smiling through the pain of your actions.

Number Two

He’s after me cause I’m a Schuyler Sister

That elevates his status

I’d have to be naive to set that aside,

Maybe that is why I introduced him to Eliza

Now that’s his bride,

Nice going, Angelica, he was right

You will never be satisfied

Thomas Holland was an ambitious man. A social climber, desperate to rise above his station. To marry a princess would make him a duke, one of the highest titles in Larione. His children would have royal blood, and so would his grandchildren after that. Perhaps that was the reason you had introduced him to your younger sister. A princess, but not one who would be queen. Someone a step above, but within reach. A decision you regretted almost immediately. You wished you had kept him to yourself. Ha, would you look at that, he was right. You will never be satisfied.

Number Three

I know my sister like I know my own mind,

You will never find anyone as trusting or as kind

If I tell her that I love him she’d be silently resigned

He’d be mine,

She would say “I’m fine”

She’d be lying

The week following the ball, Eliza and Thomas were writing back and forth constantly. Eliza’s eyes lit up with every letter that he wrote her. You played the role of the protective, prying older sister, saying to her in regards to the letters “I’m just saying If you really loved me you would share them!”, trying to playfully snatch one away.

Of course, it was all an act. You wished those letters were for you. You wished you were the one Thomas was so eager to write to. You wanted so badly to confess your feelings to Thomas and Eliza and to take him for yourself, but you could never do that to your kind, gentle sister. Realistically, if you were to confess, your sister would be happy for you. She would sway Thomas in your direction, just as you had done for her. She would tell you she was happy for you and that she was alright. She’d be lying. Eliza felt strongly for Thomas, anyone could see it. She’d be heartbroken, but she’d deny it. She would want nothing more than your happiness, the same way you wanted her’s. Your love for her triumphed over all, even your love for Thomas. You loved her more than anything in this life and would put her happiness over your own every time. So you bit your tongue, hiding away your true feelings.

Before you knew it, several months had passed. Thomas, through ambition, skill and, and hard work, had risen in station from a common soldier to Secretary of Larione’s Treasury- a position high enough to marry a member of the royal family.

So finally, the time had come to ask your father for his blessing to marry your sister. You, Eliza, and your youngest sister, Margaery, or “Peggy”, were sitting on a couch in the upstairs corridor leading to the stairs, listening for your father’s approval.

Your father stood up and walked towards Thomas slowly. You got nervous, fearing he was going to deny Thomas’s request for marriage. You truly wanted him to bless the marriage. All you wanted was for Eliza to be happy. Thankfully, your father shook Thomas’s hand saying “be true to each other”.

Thomas smiled brightly, looking up to Eliza. You all rushed downstairs. You and Peggy hugged your new brother-in-law tightly, welcoming him to the family. You smiled softly as Eliza kissed him. Though it would be a lie to say you didn’t feel a flash of sadness at the reminder that he wasn’t yours. But as usual, you hid your feelings.

Days passed as quickly as they came, eventually leading up to Thomas and Eliza’s wedding. To say it was bittersweet would be an understatement. On one hand, your sister’s happiness brought you great joy, on the other, the prospect of Thomas being out of your reach permanently brought you great despair.

You smiled as you walked down the aisle as your sister’s maid of honor, but anyone who looked close enough would have seen your eyes were crying.

You couldn’t stop the tears pooling in your eyes as Thomas’s close friend, Lieutenant Colonel Harrison Osterfield spoke loudly, “Everyone, give it up for the maid of honor! Princess (Y/N)!”

“A toast to the groom!” you said enthusiastically, looking at Thomas and Eliza.

“To the groom!” the guests toasted.

“To the lovely bride!”

The guests repeated it back to you.

“From your most adoring sister,” you said, wrapping your free arm around Peggy. “Who’s always by your side.”

“May your marriage be long and prosperous,” you turned to Thomas specifically. “And may you always be satisfied.”

The young man smiled knowingly at you.

The wedding came and went, and before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to Thomas and Eliza as they left for their honeymoon.

“Are you crying, sister? Oh, I love you ever so much!” Eliza said, wiping your tears and kissing your cheek. She thought you were crying tears of happiness for her. Oh, if only she knew. As she said her goodbyes to Peggy, you caught Thomas’s eye. In them was an expression of such deep longing it made your heart ache. Your gazes on each other lingered until Eliza’s sweet, lovestruck voice called out “Thomas?”. At the sound of her voice, he tore his gaze from you, stepping into the carriage and riding away with his wife. Eventually, Harrison, Jacob, and Tuwaine- Thomas’s fellow soldiers- alongside Peggy went back inside, leaving you standing alone, tears running down your face outside of the chapel where your dearest sister just married your one true love.

He will never be satisfied.

I will never be satisfied.

[2-bdamned]

in regards to the aoex pride post i made last month, here are my personal headcanons as to why i think those are their sexuality’s! ( also thank you to @johnannepeterric for asking about this as i’ve been waiting to share these for a hot minute!!)

rin:

sexuality + gender identity:gay and trans(ftm)

reason: i don’t think he exactly cares for the concept of gender and sexuality but just thinks people should be allowed to like and be whoever they want. he knew he was in the wrong body since he was a little kid but never knew how to phrase it till later on in life. as for on screen reasons, he tends to cover up quite a bit before and after becoming a demon as well as tending to wear baggy clothes to hid his form. not to mention he has very poor posture which most transmasc people (myself included) tend to do when we can’t bind or don’t feel masculine enough. and i think he’s gay mostly due to the fact that he’s never really shown to have any friendships outside of the exwires and tends to get his platonic and romantic affections mixed up quite a bit (as to explain why i still headcanon this after the manga and his confirmed feelings towards shiemi)

yukio:

sexuality: bisexual

reasoning: he seems to show and equal amount of emotions to his colleagues and to the exwires and im like 90% sure he doesn’t really talk about romantic through the manga/anime at all. i think he’s always known he’s liked both genders since he was young. shiro seems like he was very accepting and i honestly think he would’ve helped both the boys with their sexuality’s and gender since he didn’t get the freedom to express that stuff when he was younger due to you know ‼️‼️(SPOILERS) ‼️‼️ literally being a clone made in a lab. yukio seems the type to not really care about gender when it comes to romance and instead look for traits like personality and motivations. his friendships are most based on him genuinely liking the person rather than keeping up with his appearance as someone who’s quite popular. this could possibly lead to the same being transferred over to his romantic bonds.

shiemi:

sexuality: lesbian

reason: like rin, she tends to get romantic and platonic affection mixed up from not having friends till high school. there’s a bit in the manga where izumo brings over some romance novels to try and help shiemi out with figuring out her feelings. we all know most romance novels don’t exactly have the best explanation for feeling so i think that’s where shiemi got mixed up. she gets her admiration for rin mixed up with romantic feelings when in reality, she’s not into him. we can also use the garden scene from kyoto arc as some reasoning to this headcanon. izumo called shiemi a weed and she surprisingly takes this “insult” very well and even thanks izumo for the interaction. even later in kyoto saga, we see shiemi use even more of her power to save izumo from the miasma. she clearly cared a lot about izumo and basically wore herself down to the the brink of exhaustion trying to dave izumo herself when she could have easily run and got help from another exorcist. sheimi seems to care deeply about her friends but shows more concern to izumo than any other exwire (minus rin and yukio).

shima: ‼️‼️ HIS WHOLE HEADCANON REVOLVES AROUND MANGA SPOILERS SO THATS A HEADS UP‼️‼️

sexuality: gay

since he found out about izumo from the illuminati, he never really had a “crush” on her per say, but showed an unromantic interest in her due to her past and just wanted to know more about her. since he had kinzou around him as a kid, i think that played a huge part in him hiding that he was gay (just bc kinzou is a huge perv and probably pushed some of that onto him). that could also lead to the reasoning as to why he’s so pushy with izumo. he’s trying to convince himself he liked women by trying his hardest to like izumo. the kinzou thing is the only thing really leading to me believing this but an alternative reason could also be a fear of changing his personality this late on when both suguro and koneko have known him to be a certain way since he was young. he’s shown to have this perverted personality since he was quite young and it’s even mentioned in an extra concerning why suguro and koneko use his last name and not his first. these two factors lead me to believe his attraction to izumo and subsequently, his attraction to women, is just a lie he’s putting on.

koneko:

sexuality + gender identity: pansexual and genderfluid

reason: koneko is shown to have a deep love and care for the people around him and i think that not only applies to him with friendship, but with romance as well. like yukio, he tends not to focus on the gender of the person perusing him, but rather their intention, personally, and motivations. he wants to know if his partner is a good person rather than their gender. gender wise, i just don’t think he cares. it’s not explicitly shown but it can be heavily implied when he talks to rin about why he has a hard time trusting him after the “son of satan “ reveil happens. for gender identity, i think i as a kid, he was commonly referred to by most pronouns since he wasn’t exactly the most “boy looking” when he was young. later on he learned he didn’t exactly mind what gender people perceived him as but rather how they perceived him as a person. there’s no canon information for the genderfluid headcanon but again, these are my personal headcanon, they don’t exactly have to make sense.

suguro:

sexuality + gender identity: gay and trans (ftm)

reason: this one is mostly me projecting onto this man so if it doesn’t exactly make sense, y’all know why! but he’s shown to be quite affectionate to rin in both the manga and the anime. he doesn’t really tend to do that too much to other people, especially the women that are around him. he probably has some sort of crush on rin or at least some form of admiration to him. as for his gender identity, this is literally just me projecting. that’s it. but i think he does show some signs that i tend to show as a trans person ( the one example i can name off the top of my head is that he seems pretty insecure when shima and koneko brought up his body before he started working out and hates mentions of his body in general ). like rin, he tends to have very poor posture and also doesn’t wear form fitting clothes and this is especially prominent in official art.

izumo:

sexuality: lesbian

reason: she has a very deep relationship with paku and shiemi after the events of the manga take place. she never shows this same connection with any one else throughout the series. she gets severely worried once paku leave cram school and is shown to be quite empty after this happens. ‼️‼️SPOILERS‼️‼️ the same thing happens once shiemi leaves cram school as well and is taken by her family to go train. she seems to be deeply affected by these two events and even goes as far as to show the others her concerns after the thing with shiemi happens. after she ‼️SPOILERS‼️ gets kidnapped by the illuminati and winds up the the hospital, shimei is the first person she lets see her true emotions and feelings and doesn’t once make a comment on her being some kind of hindrance. we also see her show quite a bit of empathy towards shiemi when in kyoto. there’s a scene where they two are gardening and she calls shiemi a weed. she’s very much plays into a tsudere type roll in the beginning but this seems more like a backhanded compliment rather than trying to be a jerk to her. both of the girls receive this interaction in a positive way. we also can use the scene where shiemi saves izumo as a reason for this as well. izumo shows a genuine concern for shiemi both during and after her being stuck in the miasma. even when they go to the hot springs, she seems to have this perpetual blush while looking at shiemi. these all lead me to think she has some sort of feelings toward both paku and shiemi, leading me to headcanon her as a lesbian.

shura:

sexuality: lesbian

she was basically born just so she could produce a child to fuel some demons deep desires. her unhealthy attachment to shiro can be explained by this. i think this is the case for all the “attraction” she showed towards him as a young girl. all her life she’s been told she has to have kids with a man and that’s was her purpose for a long time. thus why i think she’s a lesbian. she never shows any real attraction to a man throughout the entire series besides the man who saved her as a child. she never talks about men till after her character arc in the manga and even then, it seems she just wants to live the rest of her life differently than before and doesn’t exactly seem too enthusiastic about finding a husband as it’s never mentioned again after that point. she really only seems to show an “attraction” to men when it’s useful to her. she uses her looks and charm to get what she wants when it comes to men. she has this facade she puts on where she acts innocent and cute and uses her looks to her advantage. she never truly shows an actual attraction to a man.

mephisto:

sexuality + gender identity: gay and genderfluid

reason: i don’t think any of the demon kings are cis. like not even remotely. they all have to take on different forms and have taken on many in the past. as long as it’s a body, they’re basically fine with whatever. mephs past forms are never shown but we can assume he’s taken on many different body’s in the past as well. after all this body hopping and the fact that gender is literally a thing made up by humans, i don’t think meph really cares about the forms he takes and how his gender is perceived. he knows he’s a powerful demon and could easily destroy the knights of the true cross if he wanted too so gender is the last thing he really cares about. as for sexuality, nothing on screen really points to anything but he tends to show more affection to the men on screen than the women. in fact, the only women we see him really interact with (that i can remember) is shura and we all know how they feel about each other. even though those two both “flirt” with one another, these seem to be more so parts of their personality’s rather than them both having an interest in each other. his “flirting” with shura seems to be more taunting her and displaying his absolute discard for human problems.

amaimon:

gender identity: agender

reason: just like meph, amimon had possessed(?) many different forms over the course of their existence. we even see him take on a rather feminine presenting form when they were destroying the earth. but unlike meph, he is less fluid in terms of gender and instead, prefers to not identify with one. she does use all pronouns and doesn’t exactly care on that front but i think there’s certain terms and compliments they don’t exactly like. meph does use gendered terms with amimon, but these two seem to be very close and have probably communicated this before as well. like koneko being genderfluid, there’s no definitive evidence to support this claim other than these are my own headcanons and i can do what i want.