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bellaxgiornata · 8 months

Text

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Five]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: The part you've probably all been waiting for is finally here and I'm dying to see reactions to this one! Also, I have no idea why tags aren't working for a couple of you, I tried a few times to get them to work but I blame tumblr, I'm sorry! As always, Feedback is always appreciated!

Lying in bed with your sheets pulled up to your chin, it felt like the entire room around you was spinning. Even with your eyes clamped tightly shut, you could feel that uncomfortable churning in your stomach, that dizzying sensation making it feel like your bed was rocking back and forth on the ocean. You’d been lying there for at least a half an hour now, practically begging the higher powers above to give you just one night where you could fall straight to sleep without feeling like you were going to be sick.

Your morning sickness had only gotten worse now that you were entering the ninth week. And you absolutely hated the deceiving term of 'morning sickness' considering the fact that you’d thrown up a handful of times over the past few days now, and most of those times were not in the morning. It affected you on and off throughout the day, and almost always hitting you as you were relaxing and trying to fall asleep.

That telltale feeling quickly began to creep back up on you, your saliva pooling in your mouth. You winced, groaning and burying your face into your pillow as you swallowed, hoping to stop what was about to come. But the saliva only pooled more along your tongue as you felt your stomach give an uncomfortable lurch. The contents within it abruptly surged their way upwards with barely any warning.

Kicking your sheets off of yourself, you tossed your legs over the side of your bed. You threw a hand over your mouth as you hurried out of the bedroom, racing across the hall to your bathroom. You’d barely managed to flip the light on before dropping down to your knees in front of your toilet. Lifting the seat up and lowering your face above the bowl, you began to violently empty your stomach.

By the time you’d finished retching, you pathetically slumped on the floor before the toilet, running a hand across your sweat-dampened forehead. Groaning miserably, your eyes closed as you cringed at the disgusting taste in your mouth. Though thankfully the longer you sat on the cool tile of your bathroom floor, the more your nausea and dizziness began to subside.

“This is such bullshit,” you moaned to yourself. “Why does every part of this have to be so awful?”

It was a few minutes that you sat hunched on the floor in front of the toilet before you finally felt like you weren’t going to be sick again. Gradually you pushed yourself up from the bathroom floor, making your way over to your sink. Picking up your toothbrush from its holder, you got it wet and covered it in toothpaste before you began to vigorously brush the disgusting taste from your mouth. At least now that you’d gotten sick and gotten that out of your system, you could hopefully get comfortable in bed and fall asleep this time. That’s how things had gone the last few nights at least; the nausea seemed to disappear once you finally got sick.

Finished brushing your teeth, you rinsed off your toothbrush and put it away. After, you turned off the faucet and dried your face and hands on the nearby towel. Exhausted, you stepped out of the bathroom, flipping off the light as you went, but you’d barely reached your bedroom before you froze at the sound of your name being spoken through the silence of your apartment.

Fear shot through you immediately, the hair bristling on the back of your neck as you spun on your heel. A soft, surprised gasp slipped out of your lips when you spotted Daredevil standing just at the edge of your hallway, the faint light trickling past the curtain-covered windows in your living room casting dark shadows across his masked face.

You stood there in shock for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that Matt was even here in your apartment. He’d called you again just earlier today, but you’d once again refused to answer your phone for him. And now here he was, just letting himself into your apartment like he always used to do. As if he was still welcome here. The thought of that had your anger soon reigniting within you, your hands curling into fists at your sides. You saw the way Matt stiffened in response, clearly picking up on the sudden shift in your mood.

“So you think you can just break into my apartment now, do you?” you hissed. “After everything?”

“I came here to talk,” he replied, an edge to his tone. “Because you certainly weren’t answering your phone. I’ve been trying to call you for weeks.”

A bitter laugh fell out of you, your arms coming to cross over your chest in agitation. You ignored the way your breasts ached at the gesture, too angry to care about that.

“Maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after the way you ended things,” you shot back. “Maybe that’s why I wasn’t answering your calls, Matthew .”

The corner of his lip curled back at your words and the way you’d shot his full name out at him, as if it had physically hurt him as he winced in pain. Good, you hoped the bite in your words hurt. He deserved it after how he’d hurt you.

He opened his mouth to respond, but you saw him close it again almost immediately. His head canted to the side, the gesture which you knew meant he’d picked up on something with his senses. A different kind of fear rippled through you next, wondering just what he’d noticed.

“Are you sick?” he asked, his tone softening.

You scoffed at the question, shaking your head. So he’d noticed you’d been throwing up. You hoped the smell of your sick lingering in the air would send him away. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have right now; all you wanted to do was go to sleep. You were exhausted from your work week on top of everything else, you didn’t need a vigilante ex-boyfriend breaking and entering on a Thursday night just to fight with you.

“No, I’m not sick,” you snapped. “Not that you’d care anyway.”

“Of course I’d care,” he immediately disagreed.

“Sure as shit didn’t care when you ended things,” you spat back. “Couldn’t care enough to give me a single evening of your time. So don't tell me you suddenly care now, Matthew .”

Matt’s body went rigid, something dark crossing his masked features. A bit of the Devil was peeking through right now, you could see that. Because you’d touched a nerve of some sort.

“I wasn’t the one who ended things,” he replied, his voice rough and low. “ You did that. I came here to apologize for how I’d treated you that night and for all those times I’d broken promises to you. That’s why I’m here.”

Your brows shot up onto your forehead in shock, your mouth falling open. He thought you had ended things? With everything he’d been doing, all the promises he’d broken and the way he’d slammed that door on his way out that night–he had the audacity to claim you broke up with him ? Your fury only coiled tighter as you glared back at Matt, shoulders squaring as you held your ground, desperate to unleash the pain you’d been holding back for weeks.

“ I didn’t end the relationship, Matt,” you retorted, tears brimming in your eyes. “That was entirely on you when you chose to walk out that goddamn door and put Hell’s Kitchen over me. Like you did night after fucking night. For weeks . Because that’s all you fucking care about, isn’t it? This goddamn city. When it comes right down to it, you’d choose this city over me. That’s what you proved to me, Matthew."

Inhaling a sharp breath as you saw his lips thin out along his face at your accusation, you realized you couldn’t stop the words that were about to come flying out of you. Because for weeks now you'd wanted to hurl them at him like knives, hoping they’d hit their mark and wound him.

“You did this, Matthew,” you growled, pointing a firm, accusatory finger at his chest as that rage and pain finally loosed itself on your tongue. “You abandoned me–abandoned us . That is on you.”

“I didn’t abandon–” he began, stopping almost instantly.

His head yet again canted to the side and you swore you could almost hear his thoughts suddenly racing.

“What?” he asked sharply. “ Us ?”

There was a pause that followed his question, Matt’s entire body frozen on the spot–until his head abruptly shifted. You watched as his head tilted a few different times in confusion, his lips twisting beneath the hard line of his mask. And then the red lenses of his mask finally found their focus–fixed on your abdomen. His mouth fell open in shock as he stood there speechless, the tension quickly leaving his body as if he'd lost all of his fight in that instant.

"You're–you're pregnant?" he breathed out.

"Yes, I am," you answered.

As he continued to openly gawk, your arms lowered, wrapping protectively over your stomach. Matt took a cautious, hesitant step towards you, his gloved hand reaching out. Though he promptly stopped himself in his tracks, his hand frozen and left hovering between the pair of you.

"Why did you never say anything?" he asked softly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

A humorless bark of laughter flew out of you at that. What a ridiculous question to ask. As if you hadn't made an attempt to tell him.

"I tried to tell you," you said bitterly. "That night I practically begged you to stay with me, Matt. The night you walked out that door and chose Hell’s Kitchen instead. After that, I hadn't been able to bring myself to talk to you. Couldn’t look at you and tell you."

His hand that had been hovering in the space between you both continued its way up, pulling the mask from his head and revealing his stunned expression and mussed hair. There wasn't an ounce of anger anywhere on his features in the dark, his sightless eyes still fixed on your abdomen. Most likely tuned into the small, fast heartbeat there.

"I–I didn't know," he choked out, shaking his head. "I am… so sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't," you warned him, eyes narrowing. "Don't call me that, Matt. I'm not your sweetheart ," you bit out. "I'm not any of that to you anymore."

Matt visibly shrunk back, wincing at your words. His gloved hands nervously fidgeted with the mask he held between them both as you saw his throat bob with a hard swallow.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, his face contorting with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I was–was such an asshole. You didn't deserve that. Any of it."

"No, I didn't," you agreed. "You turned into a different person, Matt. One I didn't recognize. But maybe that’s who you really are."

"I thought you were trying to give me an ultimatum," he confessed, his voice tight with emotion. "That night. That's what I thought. That you were going to tell me I had to pick you or Daredevil and I–I was hurt and angry. Because I thought you knew I couldn't give that part of myself up completely. I thought you’d accepted that side of me."

"I would never have done that," you told him. "You certainly need to learn how to compromise and how to figure out what is truly a priority, Matt, but I would never have forced you to choose one or the other. Because I loved you for all of you. I'd always told you that."

"I know, you're right," he said, nodding quickly as he took another step closer. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I fucked up, I know I did. And I'm sorry. So incredibly sorry. You deserve better and I want to make it up to you. To fix things."

You shook your head, taking a step back from Matt. His face fell instantly at the physical distance, his eyes pinching tight.

"You can't fix this, Matt," you told him, waving a hand between the pair of you. "You walked out on me–on us. You'd been breaking promise after promise to me for weeks. I don't trust you anymore, don't you get that?"

"What do you mean?" he whispered, his face twisting in pained confusion. "Of course you can trust me. I love you. I'd never hurt you. Either of you."

You grimaced at the way he said he loved you, your heart constricting in your chest. What you wouldn't give for the situation to be different, to be able to have those words not feel like shards of glass tearing you open as they came out of his mouth.

"I don't trust that you'll do what you say," you countered. "I don't trust that you'll be there for me when I need you. I don't trust that anything else could ever mean more to you than this city, Matt. We would only ever come second, and that's not enough."

In the dim light coming from your living room windows behind Matt, you could see the glisten of tears in his eyes. His face further scrunched up as he tried to fight back his tears, roughly shaking his head at you.

"That's not true," he said softly, the words breaking. "That could never be true."

He sniffled loudly, the sound shattering your heart even further. As angry as you'd been at him and as much as you'd wanted to hurt him for weeks now, actually seeing him so emotionally distraught didn't make you feel any better. If anything you just felt worse about this entire disappointing situation. His actions had only left you both broken and lonely.

"I'd never pick anything before you or my own child," he assured you. " Never ."

A few tears slipped down your cheeks, the warmth of them a noticeable contrast to the cool air of your apartment. Your arms hugged your abdomen tighter as your lips trembled.

"I don't believe you, Matt," you whispered.

His face tightened further, a choked sob falling out of him. You grimaced at the sight, your own tears starting to fall faster. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again right now having this conversation. Having to tell him the things you knew you needed to.

"I would never keep you from your child, Matt," you began slowly, trying to keep your voice steady, "but I'll be the one raising this baby. Alone."

"No," he disagreed quickly, shaking his head at you. "No, don't say that. You won't do this alone. I want to be here for you. I want to be a part of this. To do this together ."

Jaw tightening, your fingers gripped the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. You wanted that, you really did, but not after what he’d put you through for the past few weeks. You couldn’t handle navigating pregnancy and raising a young child with a father who was unreliable, always in and out of the picture at their own leisure. That would only make things worse, and it would only hurt you and eventually this child more.

“We can’t, Matt,” you said, forcing the words out. “I can’t depend on you. And if I can’t depend on you–if I can’t trust that you’ll be there when we need you–then I don’t want that. Because you’ll only cause more pain.”

You bit your lip, struggling to get the words out as you watched Matt crumple to his knees before you. He was openly weeping now, each strangled sob only causing your heart to ache further. There was no pleasure to be gained in watching how broken he looked right now, bent in half on his knees before you with tears streaming down his face, but you knew this was what you needed to do.

“If the responsibilities of a committed relationship were already too much for you,” you continued, voice cracking on a few words, “then I don’t think you’re ready to be a father, Matt. Not like that. Not now, at least.”

“Sweetheart, don’t,” he choked out. “Please.”

Eyes snapping shut at his plea, you couldn’t look at him as you forced yourself to finish what you knew you had to tell him. It was for the best in the end.

“I’m nine weeks along,” you told him, eyes still clamped shut. “So there’s–there’s not really anything for you to be a part of at the moment, Matt.” Swallowing hard, you tried to ignore the way it felt like someone was squeezing your heart. “I don’t need your help with anything. And maybe–maybe farther along we can set something up for you to occasionally hear the baby or feel their movements, but until they’re born…there’s not really anything more for you here right now.”

“Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please don’t say that. I’ll fix this! I promise I’ll fix it!”

You swiftly turned around, burying your face in your hands. Telling Matt all of this pained you far more than you imagined it would. It didn’t help that there was a small part of you that felt like you might’ve been making a mistake. That somewhere in the back of your mind there was a small voice wanting you to turn back around and give him another chance. To let him try to prove himself. To see if he could fix things.

But you ignored that voice, shoving it far away. He’d walked out on you. What you were doing now was not the same.

“Please leave, Matt,” you whispered.

You didn’t wait for a response before you stepped into your bedroom, closing the door behind you and hurrying over to your bed. Climbing into it, you threw the blankets over yourself, burying your face in the pillow and trying to muffle the sound of your crying. In the hallway you heard Matt slowly rise to his feet, his sobs still audible to you in the bedroom. But he didn’t follow after you. Instead, you heard him make his way out to your living room, sliding a window open as he stepped out onto your fire escape. Then you heard the soft thump of your window closing after him.

That’s when you let yourself openly weep, crying into your pillow until you eventually cried yourself to sleep.

Furious at himself, Matt slammed the door to his roof access behind himself with a sharp bang that echoed loudly throughout his apartment. Tearing his helmet from off of his head, he stormed over to the stairs before he stomped his way down them, his boots landing with a heavy thud along each step. At the bottom, overcome with sheer rage, he threw his helmet forcefully from his hands with a roar. He heard the way it flew across the room and skidded along the floor before slamming loudly into the radiator.

Matt began to tear his gloves from his hands after, his chest heaving with fury and shame and despair. He threw each glove roughly onto the floor next beside his boots, pissed at himself. Pissed at Daredevil. Pissed at everything.

You were pregnant. That’s what you’d been wanting to tell him that night. And like the fucking piece of shit he was–self-sabotaging as Foggy always told him–he’d yelled at you. Pushed you away. Abandoned you. And all you’d wanted was him. For him to be there for you.

And he hadn’t even given you something so goddamn simple as that.

“Fuck!” he cursed loudly.

In his agitation, he began to pace the length of his apartment like a feral cat. His hands were in his hair, roughly tugging at the strands as more tears slipped down his cheeks. He had fucked things up far more than he’d realized. But knowing that you were carrying his child? How was he supposed to let that go?

He loved you. Truthfully he loved you more than the city he swore to protect, even if he’d been an absolute asshole when it came to showing that to you lately. Because you were right. His actions hadn’t shown that you were his priority.

With an enraged growl Matt’s hands darted out, grabbing onto his kitchen table and violently flipping it over. Everything on it clattered noisily to the floor, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was fuming and too far gone in his thoughts. He could feel the Devil’s wrath inside of himself, begging him to be released. He could hear the Devil’s voice telling him that he did this to himself. That he got what he deserved. That he’d never be good enough for you or anyone. That he’d be a terrible father.

Gritting his teeth roughly together, his breathing came in sharp and hard. His hands landed on his hips as his eyes clamped shut, the muscles jumping in his cheeks as he tried to quiet that voice in his head.

Because no. That was wrong.

Exhaling a rough breath, he tried to regain his composure. You deserved better, that was true. He hadn’t been treating you the way he should’ve been before things had ended. That was on him. But you and his unborn child deserved better. And he was going to give you both that.

So that’s what he would do. He’d find a way to fix things. To prove how wrong you were about him not wanting to be a father and about him not loving you more than Hell’s Kitchen. To find a way to get you to trust him again, feel capable of depending on him. And while he knew he couldn’t give up the Devil, he knew he could learn to compromise. To truly be there for you. And he’d do whatever it took for however long it took for you to trust him again. Because you and that baby were his family.

You and that baby were his.

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @lilthbunny @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

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icarusignite · 11 months

Note

Hey,

Could you imagine doing an Athelstan x reader. Where the reader is the daughter of Sihtric.

Maybe the reader could be the first child of Sihtric and his first wife (I know he only has one but his wife from the series could be the second). When his wife from the series met him, he left the readers mother and got together with his new wife. Unfortunately, the readers mother died shortly afterwards.

The reader's world collapsed but she still has her best friends Athelstan and Sophia, who is Finan's daughter. (I just like the name Sophia, I hope it's okay that Finan also has a daughter in this story. Of course you can change the name)

It would be cool if sihtric's new wife doesn't like the reader because she looks like her mother.

(So she is almost the evil stepmother, but the siblings are sweet)

Of course, Sihtric loves his daughter the reader more than anything but the reader distances herself because she blames him and his new wife for the fact that her mother is gone. Maybe she could also be jealous that sihtric also spends a lot of time with his other children and his new wife, because normally it was always only her and her father against the rest of the world.

Athelstan and the reader have always had feelings for each other. They didn't want to tell the other because they were afraid to destroy the friendship.

Sophia and the reader are like sisters, the two are inseparable and do everything together. When the reader was getting worse and worse, because she became more angry because of her father and their relationship got worse and worse, Sophia made a suggestion to go away. Sophia and the reader are both shieldmaiden and always wanted to travel over the world and make a name for themselves. Even if it is difficult for both to leave their family and Athelstan behind, they go away. Sophia, of course, finds it difficult to leave her father because she has no problems with him, but for the reader she would do it.

When the fight for Bebbanburg takes place after years and Sophia and the reader hear about it, they come to help. The two have a great army. The warriors and shieldmaiden wanted to follow them because they were impressed by their fighting skills.

In the end, there might be a conversation between the reader and Sihtric and that she tells him how she feels. And of course, Athelstan and the reader confess their feelings to each other, which became even stronger than they were not together.

I'm sorry it's so long but I wanted to write down all sorts of thoughts I hope you like it.

Your reader

Go ahead and cry, little girl

A/N: Heyyyyy, I am back from the dead. I am SUPER sorry for the massive delay. I've just been off Tumblr for a bit, but I am back. This is quite possibly the longest oneshot I've written so far lol. The Aethelstan bit doesn't quite start until the end but I do like how it turned out and I hope you like what I've done with your prompt <3 (could you tell that I was listening to Daddy Issues on repeat while writing this lmfao)

Disclaimer: I haven't watched the TLK movie (and I've been avoiding spoilers lol) so I have no idea what Aethelstan is like in that one, this is just based on what I know about him in season 5. Also, I was super done with this story by the time I was done with it so it's not really proofread. If you see any typos feel free to point them out so I can fix them lol, or just enjoy it as it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word Count: ~8k

Pairing: Aethelstan x Reader.

The air was crisp and filled with the scent of pine and earth, invigorating the senses. In the heart of Rumcofa, a small clearing had been transformed into a makeshift training ground. Sihtric Kjartansson stood in the middle of the clearing, his battle-worn sword resting on his broad shoulder. Across from him stood his young daughter. Although you were only a young girl of seven winters, your hands tightly gripped the wooden sword in your hand as you stood tall, shoulders set and feet wide apart as you tried to copy your father's stance.

"Hold your sword higher, bend your elbows," Sihtric called out, circling you, and gently nudging you to correct your stance.

"Yes, Father," you nodded.

Once Sihtric was satisfied with your pose, he turned as if to walk away, only to lunge forward, swinging his sword with calculated precision. Your training sword met his attack, weapons clashing with a resounding thud. Father and daughter moved in harmony, your steps an intricate dance. SIhtric would feign an attack, allowing you to then parry and counter, your small frame mirroring your father's every move.

As the training session drew to a close, a beaming smile stretched across Sihtric's face, as pride swelled within him. He extended a calloused hand and ruffled your hair, affectionately mussing it.

"You fought well today, my little shieldmaiden," he grinned.

"Thank you, Father!"

The sounds of whoops and cheers filled the air. You turned your head toward the two children standing on the sidelines, watching you with keen interest as they clapped. There was Sophia, with her fiery red hair cascading down her shoulders, bouncing on her toes as she waited for you to approach them. The mousy-looking boy standing next to her, Aethelstan, rolled his eyes but his shy smile as he met your gaze gave him away.

Once you were within a few paces, Sophia launched herself at you with a squeal of delight, throwing her arms around you.

"You were incredible!" she crowed. "You'll soon be even better than Aethelstan here."

Aethelstan scoffed, "She still has a long way to go before that."

You rolled your eyes, "You know I can kick your arse right now if I want, right?"

"Cannot!"

"Can too."

You stuck your tongue out at your friend, and he returned the gesture, causing Sophia to laugh.

Sihtric cleared his throat to interrupt the bickering, "Alright, alright kids, off you go. The hour grows late and your parents must be expecting you home."

"It's alright, Father knows where I am," Sophia responded cheerfully.

Sihtric chuckled, "Yes well I don't know about Finan, but Eadith will surely have my head if I don't send you back before dark. Off you go, you can see each other tomorrow."

Sophia gave you one last hug before departing, and Aethelstan settled on a wave of his hand which you mimicked. After they had gone, Sihtric took your hand, gently leading the way toward your own home.

"Did you see that, Father? Aethelstan denies it but I could definitely kick his ass, couldn't I?"

"Language, little one."

"You use it all the time Father."

"Ah yes, but you know your mother doesn't like it when you use words like that."

"Your mother doesn't like what?" came a frail voice from the doorway of your house.

You looked up to see your mother leaning against the wall, arms crossed and an affectionate smile playing on her lips. There were shadows under her eyes and her skin looked sickly pale but at least she was well enough to get out of bed today.

"Mama!" you let go of your father's hand to rush up to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face in her warm dress.

Your mother laughed, "And what was my mischievous girl up to today, hmm?"

"Father is teaching me how to spar. He says I'm getting better every day!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes, she is," Sihtric came over to wrap an arm around your mother's shoulder and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She smiled and leaned against him with a sigh.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"A lot better now that you're both here. Eadith was here earlier. She...she says that..." your mother sent a cautious glance your way.

"What did she say?" Sihtric prompted.

Your mother was quick to flash him a reassuring smile, "Nothing too noteworthy. All is well."

"If you say so."

"Now go wash up, both of you!" your mother laughed, pinching your cheeks and gently pushing Sihtric further inside the house. "You both smell awful!"

"Mother!"

"You know I love you darling, but you need a bath."

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

You had never seen your mother this angry before. Her rage was a tangible thing, large and looming as she raged. The object of her wrath was your father, who stood there in your mother's room, eyes steeled with determination, even as she threw things at him.

"I-I can explain," Sihtric began, his voice faltering as he ducked to avoid the book she threw at his head.

"Explain?" your mother roared, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Is there any explanation for such treachery? After all these years of devotion, I am met with betrayal?"

Her normally gentle demeanour was replaced with a fiery fury that demanded attention. Her throat was raw and her voice cracked. Her eyebrows furrowed, knitting together in a mixture of anger and disbelief. The delicate curve of her lips, once known for only speaking words of grace and tenderness, contorted into a stern line, a testament to her righteous fury. Her complexion was paler than usual, and all colour drained from her face as tears streamed down, betraying her vulnerability.

You watched your parents argue from the doorway, eyes darting between them. Your hands clenched, nails digging into your palms hard enough to leave marks. You would have much rather left to be with your friends, but you stayed because you worried for your mother. Your parents were not the type to fight, not explosively like this anyways. Sure they had petty arguments, they were human after all, but those were always resolved soon after, with your father bringing your mother flowers and an apology that would coax a smile from her. You worried that they might not recover from this, and if they did not recover, you wondered how your mother would even survive it. She was already so weak. These were the thoughts that consumed you, as you watched silently. You did not even dare entertain the other thoughts that whispered at the edges of your mind, thoughts about your mother's allegations against your father.

"I offered you my love, my trust, and this is how you repay me?" your mother continued, her voice quivering with emotion. "You have shamed not only me but our entire family!"

"Listen-" Sihtric tried again, avoiding her eyes in shame.

"No you listen! If you wanted to be free to hump all the whores you liked, you shouldn't have married me. Now go. Go back to your harlot and do not let me see your face here!"

Sihtric's eyes widened with disbelief, "You...you do not mean that."

"Oh, I mean it with all my heart."

"It was a mistake. I swear it was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't."

Your mother's voice cracked with grief as more tears flowed from her stricken eyes. She suddenly rushed up to her husband, grabbed his chin with surprising strength and wrenched his face up to meet her gaze.

"It was not a mistake," she hissed. "You have already dishonoured me enough, do not make it worse by lying to me as well."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," was all he said, his voice small.

Your mother's hand fell away and she took a trembling step back.

"What was it then? What was it about me that was not enough for you? Was it my sickness? I admit that I have not had much energy for anything these past few months but-"

She was then unable to finish her sentence, a choked sob escaping her lips as she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle it.

"Was I so awful that you had to seek out the company of another woman? Did you find my company that repulsive?"

"That...that's not true..."

"Get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see you again!"

Sihtric opened his mouth to protest but she held up a hand, silencing him. His shoulders slumped, and with tears in his eyes, he turned away from her. He brushed past you on his way out and something in your heart cracked just then. You had to stop him somehow, you thought to yourself. You had to fix this. You had to fix them.

You sprinted after him, stopping him just as he was about to step out the door, tugging on his hand.

"Father..."

Sihtric's eyes softened as he took in your forlorn form.

"I-I'm sorry darling."

"Father, don't go. Please, please, please, don't go," you tugged on his hand more insistently, eyes beginning to well with tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologize to her. Please, just apologize. Say you didn't mean any of it. She'll forgive you, I just know she will, she loves you. Just, please don't go."

"I...I can't, I'm sorry."

"Is that all you can say?" your voice rose in frustration. "Is that all you can do? Apologize? If you're really sorry, you'd try to fix it! Please...please, please, please fix this."

Sihtric smoothed a hand through your hair, his touch tender. He brushed the tears from your cheeks and you shook him off angrily. You felt like you couldn't breathe and the walls were beginning to close in on you. Everything was falling apart and you had no idea how to fix it.

"Father, please. Please don't go. Please don't leave her, don't leave us."

"I'm sorry, but I have to go."

With one last solemn look and a pat on your head, he was gone, and as you stared dejectedly at his disappearing back, you felt as if the world had been pulled out from under your feet. You wondered if he'd ever return.

Suddenly, you were interrupted by a pained wail and your head snapped in the direction of your mother's room. Fear seized your heart as you hastily made your way back to her side. She was slumped on the floor, curled in a fetal position, hands wrapped around her knees as her body shuddered with sobs.

"Mama!" you ran to her side, gingerly putting your hand on her shoulder.

She didn't seem to acknowledge your presence, a low keening sound coming from her throat.

"Mama!" you shook her shoulder a little harder. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick? Should I call for someone?"

Your mother shook her head, still wailing. You waited a few moments, before wrapping your arms around her frail shoulders and helping her sit up. You were just smoothing her hair back when suddenly she turned her head to the side and retched, emptying the contents of her stomach right there on the floor of her chambers. She groaned in pain then, clutching her stomach wearily.

"Shhh, it's okay. You'll be alright, mother. Let's get you to bed," you whispered.

You had already put down your own grief, locking it away somewhere unreachable. You had to take care of your mother first, and you couldn't afford to be distracted. You allowed her to take deep shuddering breaths before wiping at her mouth with the back of your sleeve and helping her to get settled back in her bed. Almost all her weight slumped onto your small frame when you moved her, and you grunted with the effort. Then you ran to fetch a bowl of water to clean her face with, pressing a cold cloth onto her forehead to ease her suffering a little. She seemed to vibrate with pain and you didn't know if it was the emotional toll of your father leaving or the physical pain of her sickness.

Eventually, she drifted off to a troubled sleep as you continued to run your hands through her hair. You kissed her forehead and felt her relax a fraction and you felt your heart lift with hope. You left her side only to clean up the sickness from her floor, before returning to curl up in bed beside her, wrapping your arm around her waist as you held onto her tightly, as if afraid she'd disappear.

The next morning, she was running a fever. Her skin was scalding and she only opened her eyes for a few moments to mumble something incoherent to you before drifting off again. That is when the panic began to set in. You were just about to head out to fetch Eadith when she arrived at your door herself. She had a sympathetic smile and pitying eyes as she let herself in and set about checking up on your mother. She had heard about yesterday's commotion, almost everyone in Rumcofa had. It was a small town after all.

"She'll be alright in no time, love. Don't you worry about her, she is a very strong woman," she told you kindly.

You nodded, and then hesitantly, you asked her the question that had been plaguing your mind.

"Where's Father?"

Eadith's lips thinned, "He...he has gone with Uhtred and the others."

"Oh."

"I can stay here until your mother feels better," she offered. "You are much too young to care for her on your own."

You were just about to nod when your mother chose that exact moment to wake up.

"No!" she blurted out, her voice hoarse. "I-I would not want to impose."

Eadith squeezed her hand gently, "It would be no trouble at all. Please."

Your mother shook her head weakly, "It is just a little fever. I'll feel better in no time. You have children to take care of, and your husband isn't even home. You must go back to them. I'll be just fine."

"But-"

"Please," your mother pleaded. "I'm no invalid. I can take care of myself just fine. And besides, I have my darling here to keep me company."

She stretched out her hand which you took immediately, letting her pull you close.

Eadith looked unconvinced but after your mother insisted several more times, she nodded. She left you with a few herbs and medicines to give to your mother depending on her various symptoms and promised to return the next day to check up on the two of you.

"Mother..."

"Yes, my love?"

"You'll be alright, right?"

You were cuddled up next to her, but still, the house felt strangely empty. She felt like a wraith beside you, like she could leave any minute and then you'd truly be left alone. You could feel her bones through her thin nightgown and you clutched her tighter, as if you could hold her together.

"Of course, I'll be alright, my love," she pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Promise me. Promise me you'll be alright. That you won't leave me!"

"Oh, I wouldn't leave you for the world. You mean too mu-" her words were interrupted by a fit of coughs.

She pressed her sleeve to her mouth and it came away tinged with blood. She pulled it away quickly, folding the sleeve up so that you could not see and you pretended that you hadn't. The two of you spent the rest of the day in bed, with you reading to her as she swam in and out of consciousness. Every time her eyes would flutter open and see you, her face would relax and she'd kiss you, as if trying to impart a lifetime's worth of affection.

Her health took a turn for the worse later in the night. Her fever had greatly worsened and although you had given her all of Eadith's medicines, nothing seemed to help. She was still awake though, so that was some comfort.

"Let me go get Eadith please," you begged her.

"No. We will not bother her now. The hour is late and she said she'd come by tomorrow anyways."

"But Mother! You seem to be getting worse. Please, please you need to see someone!"

"I will not make a fuss at this hour. I'll be just fine. I just need to-"

A fit of hacking coughs overwhelmed her once again, blood pooling at her lips. She was too weak to hide it and instead allowed it to trickle down her chin. You wiped at it hastily, eyes filling with tears of frustration. You yearned to rush out and fetch someone right away, but your mother kept a vicelike grip on your arm.

"Mama, please," you begged again.

"I-no-"

She was having trouble breathing. You could tell. She sucked in air through her mouth and it rattled painfully in her chest. Every breath hurt her and all you could do was helplessly watch.

"You...you know I-I love you right?" she wheezed suddenly.

"What?"

"I...I said I love you, my darling girl."

"I love you too Mama," you whispered.

She pulled you close and you rested your head on her chest. She massaged your scalp with her fingers, whispering more sweet nothings into your ear. You felt her voice grow softer and her breathing slow down. Perhaps she'd sleep it off, you thought to yourself. Yes, she'd sleep off her fever and be right as rain in the morning. You entertained yourself with such thoughts as you drifted off as well.

You jolted awake sometime later in the night, some unknown panic clawing in your throat as you bolted out of bed.

Your mother had stopped breathing. You had felt it. You had felt the stillness of her next to you. You shook her, slowly at first, and then more frantically.

"Mama! Mama! Mama wake up!"

She remained listless, her limp frame rattling like a bag of bones as you shook her harder. Your pleas grew louder as well, your voice rising with every moment that passed.

"Mama, please. Please, please, please. Please don't leave me. You promised! Remember, you promised that you wouldn't leave me!" you screamed. "You can't break your promise. You'd be a bad mother if you broke your promise...please, I am begging you don't go."

Reality set in soon. Her skin had grown cold. It was clear that she had been gone for a while. You swore at yourself for not waking up sooner, for not going to someone for help earlier, for not doing something. Eventually, you slumped down, throat raw from screaming. The house was indeed empty now, and your mother was a wraith. Your grief was your only companion and it was a quiet needling thing, stripping you raw and ragged from the inside. you wanted to scream but no more sound would come out. You would have to fester in dark silence it seemed.

In a daze, you wondered if you should go get someone now. It made no sense to, not anymore. What could anyone do now? They'd just come to take her away and then you'd never see her again. You saw how what they did to the dead. They were often burned. Soon there would be nothing left of your mother but ashes. Your mouth tasted like ashes and you had the sudden urge to throw up. Seven years was not nearly enough time to spend with one's mother. You thought you'd have a lifetime.

You decided not to bother anyone then. You wiped your own tears and lifted the blankets to curl up next to your mother's body, clinging to her, perhaps to share your own warmth with her or perhaps hoping that she'd share her cold emptiness with you. At least then you would receive some relief from the burning agony that lit your heart. With broken syllables, you hummed your favourite lullaby to her, the one she always sang to you, and in that moment, pressed against her ribs, you could pretend that the hollow thud in your own chest came from hers instead.

You did not know how long you remained there, in the space between wakefulness and sleep, the space where dreams felt like reality and your mother's arms wrapped around you almost as tightly as yours were around her. You did not notice the sun rise in the morning or set again the next evening. The only thing that jolted you out of your reverie was the sharp knock on the door.

"Anyone home?"

It was a familiar voice.

"Hello? Sophia's mother sent me with some things," Aethelstan called out from the door, knocking again. "She apologizes for not being able to come herself but something urgent came up."

He said your name a few times too, puzzled at the lack of response.

You ignored him. There wasn't anything he could do either, and Eadith's medicines would not be of any use anymore. You burrowed deeper into your mother, raising the covers over your face. If you ignored Aethelstan for long enough maybe he'd leave, and then you could be alone with your mother again.

It worked for a while and no one else bothered you for the rest of the night. However, the next morning there was a larger commotion at the door. Several fists pounded on the door until eventually, they had to break it in. It gave way with a loud crack, and still, you did not acknowledge their presence. The loud voices were inside the house now, as they rummaged through all the rooms of the house, the heavy footsteps growing closer until they finally reached your mother's room. Still, you did not acknowledge their presence.

Someone said your name, softly at first, and then more insistent. You ignored them. Then suddenly, the covers were ripped off the bed. The sunlight accosted your eyes and you winced. Someone swore and the room burst with activity.

"By the gods, is she alright? Are they both-?"

It was your father's voice, you realized indifferently. He was finally back.

He said your name again, more insistently, and you shook your head listlessly, face still tucked into your mother's neck. That minuscule movement was enough though, to confirm that you were still alive. Strong arms peeled your mother's arms back to lift you out of them. It was at that moment when you truly came alive.

"NO!"

You screamed, a terrible ear-piercing shriek. They were your father's arms, as they pried you away from your mother and you shrieked even louder, flailing about desperately. You were downright feral, clawing and biting to get back to your mother.

"No. Let me go! Let me go back to Mama! I want Mama!"

Several other hands joined your father's in pulling you away. All your father's friends were there, Uhtred and Osferth, and even Sophia's father, Finan was there. They all looked at you with pitying eyes as you thrashed harder, body contorting wildly. Your mother's fingers were clutched tightly in yours and it took several minutes for them to peel you off.

"Don't take her away!" you howled. "She promised she wouldn't leave me! You can't take her away. She wouldn't break her promise, she's not a bad mother!"

"Shhh, darling, she's gone," it was Eadith's gentle voice that broke through your frenzy.

Sihtric handed your writhing form to her and you immediately slumped in her arms. You did not have the heart to bite and claw at her, not after all she had done. She smoothed her hands over your face gently.

"Oh, you poor darling girl. I'm so sorry, I should have come earlier," she mumbled softly.

The time after that was a blur to you as well, lost in your grief and rage. Your mother had only been dead a month before your father married again. You were almost certain it was the woman he had been seeing when your mother had caught him, but you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore. The true fury came when he moved her into your house. The house your mother had died in, the house that you had died in. At first, you refused to live with them. It would be a mockery to your mother's memory, to live in her house with your father and his new whore. That was what she was to you anyways, you never acknowledged her as his wife. Eventually though, even you felt bad imposing on Sophia's family. Despite Finan and Eadith repeatedly assuring you that you could remain with them forever if you wished, you allowed your father to take you home.

The next few days passed by in a haze and you barely recalled any of it. In the days leading up to and after your mother's funeral, you stayed with Eadith and her family. In any other circumstance, you would have been delighted to spend your days with Sophia, but you spent most of your days curled up in bed. You refused to eat anything, despite Eadith's best efforts and you never spoke a word. You especially refused to see your father, turning your head away from him every time he came to visit and speak to you.

The next few years passed by quickly as well. Once a lively and energetic child, you withdrew into yourself, but the silent simmering heat burning you from the inside remained. The only people who could ever draw smiles from you were Sophia and Aethelstan, and try they did. They had made it their collective mission to see you in happier spirits. You no longer took fighting lessons from your father, instead joining Sophia's lessons with Finan or Aethelstan's with Uhtred. The chasm between you and your father grew as he began to have more children with his new wife. You watched him be affectionate with them and the bitterness began to poison you from the inside out. You made your disdain for his wife very obvious and the feeling was mutual. You looked too much like your late mother for her to be comfortable in your presence. That paired with your constant reminders that she was the other woman and had only been able to acquire your father because your mother had died, meant that she went out of her way to make things difficult for you. As your father was often away fighting, she ran the household. She made you clean up after your younger half-siblings and do all the chores in the house. Often you escaped, slipping out to spend time with Sophia and Aethelstan, but that meant another screaming match when you returned home.

Despite your bitterness, you couldn't find it in your heart to hate your half-siblings. By the time you were twelve, you had three. Two brothers and a sister. Your brothers were timid and easy going while your sister was a spitfire. She reminded you of yourself sometimes, often when you sat down to brush the tangles and mud out of her hair as she returned from another grand escapade. You were afraid of yourself sometimes. You were afraid that the poison inside you would come spilling out and taint them. They were innocent, blameless in their conception, and you could not blame them for the sins of their parents. Still, the resentment was difficult to erase. Watching your father spend time with his new family, you felt like an outsider. it felt like watching someone else's happy family through the window, watching how the warmth lit up their eyes while the wind hollowed out your bones and filled your lungs with ice.

Your father was patient with you, painfully tender as if that would make up for what he did. He never raised his voice at you, even as you threw fits and screamed at both him and your stepmother in the first few years you lived with them. He was kind to you, just as he was with your half-siblings, but the distance was there. He'd avoid looking at you for too long because looking was a painful reminder of what he had lost. Everyone had always said that you were almost an exact carbon copy of your mother, and that was both a comfort and anguish. He treated you as if you were fragile, prone to breaking at any moment. You supposed you were. You felt it yourself sometimes as if you were on the precipice of doing something terrible, of releasing years' worth of resentment in one explosive moment. Your grief walked hand in hand with madness and buried things had an awful way of haunting you.

Your breaking point came when you were just shy of your fifteenth year. Your stepmother had made you scrub the entire house clean to prepare for your father's return from yet another fighting season. You had done just that, but after you had finished, your sister had run into the house, tracking in mud and debris from the outside. You hadn't been able to clean it up again in time and when your mother returned from her errands, she screamed at you for being lazy and irresponsible as usual. She screamed at you all the time, so that wasn't what made you lose it. It was when she raised her hand and slapped you. The blow came as a surprise and you tasted blood. One of the rings in her fingers had cut you, and your lower lip trickled with crimson. You saw red then as the blood roared in your ears. You let out a string of the worst profanities, calling her all manner of insults. It was your unfortunate luck that it was at that moment that your father chose to return.

"You will not speak to your mother that way!" he roared.

"She is not my mother!" you screeched. "Do not ever disrespect my mother again by comparing her to this whore!"

Your father uttered your name, his tone tinged with a warning.

"Apologize to her," he muttered. "You do not get to speak to her that way."

"Do you even know what she did? Do you even care? No of course you don't. All you care about is your perfect new wife and your perfect new kids. You don't give a fuck about me, just like you didn't give a fuck about my mother!"

"Mind your manners! I am still your father!"

"I'd rather have no father at all than one like you! You killed her, you killed my mother. I wish you had died instead. In fact, I hope your next fight kills you!"

Your stepmother gasped dramatically and your father flinched. His expression grew thunderous and he lifted his hand, almost instinctively. He pulled it back down to his side almost immediately but the damage was done. You looked at him incredulously.

"You would raise your hand at me?" you whispered in disbelief. "Your whore already hits me at every opportunity, and now you would do? Maybe you should...maybe you should just beat me to death. Maybe it's me who should have died with my mother so that I could at least be with someone who cared about me."

"I-no...I didn't mean-" Sihtric stumbled over his words.

You didn't wait to hear his explanation, stomping out the door and sprinting away. You took refuge in the forest, slumped against your favourite tree as you sobbed. Your wish to remain alone went ungranted as you heard the sound of leaves crunching as someone approached you. A familiar voice mumbled your name.

"Go away, Sophia!"

"You can't just push people away when you're angry you know."

"I can, and I will."

"Not me," Sophia came over and knelt on the ground next to you. "You can't get rid of me!"

You raised your head to look at her, eyes still swimming with tears, "Why are you here?"

"I saw you run out of your house and head this way. Seemed wise to follow you."

"You can't follow me forever."

"I can certainly try. Now tell me what happened."

You sighed and then straightened up, recounting your story to her, your voice taking on a sharp edge. Sophia nodded sympathetically, and then she pulled out her handkerchief to dab at your lip gingerly.

"I'm going to leave!" you said suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm leaving," you said again, more firmly. "I can't stay here anymore."

"You...you can come to live with my family? You know my parents adore you."

"No. I can't stay here, in Rumcofa. I can't watch my father live happily ever after with her new family and I can't watch that horrible witch erase all signs of mother from that house. I can't do it, I won't."

Sophia's brow wrinkled in concern, "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere has to be better than here. I know how to fight, I can go anywhere."

"I don't think-"

"Don't try to talk me out of it Sophia, I've made up my mind. I'm going to go and I'm going to leave tonight?"

"Tonight?" her eyes widened.

You nodded, "They won't be looking for me for a while. They'll think I got angry and stormed off to your place as usual. That gives me some time."

"What'll you do if they do look for you?"

"I'll be long gone by then."

Sophia was silent for several long moments, pondering something in her head. Then, her eyes lit up and you recognized her expression as one she usually had when she had an idea.

"I'll come with you!" she blurted excitedly.

"What? No!"

"Yes!"

"Sophia, no!"

"Come on, it'll be perfect! We'll explore the world together. And besides when have I ever not been by your side? Trust me, you need me."

You gaped at her as if she had grown a third eye.

"Are you insane? You have a family. A family who adores you and they would be extremely worried if you just disappeared like that."

"Technically I could say the same about you but it's clear that you're in no mood to listen to anyone. It's final, I'm coming with you!"

"No, I can't let you do that."

"Well, I can't let you go on your own."

"But...your parents...?"

Sophia looked pensive for a moment, "They'll understand. And you're like a daughter to them too. They'll be worried about you so I'm sure they'd be happier knowing we're watching out for each other."

"But you can't leave them!"

After several more rounds of back and forth between the two of you, Sophia jutted out her chin stubbornly.

"If you refuse to let me come with you, I am going over to your father right now and telling him you're planning to run away!"

"What? You can't do that!"

"Watch me!"

You were silent for several minutes, and then you nodded hesitantly. Sophia's face split into a grin immediately.

"What about Aethelstan," Sophia winked. "Can't leave him behind. Who knows which fair lady of lovely Rumcofa he might take as his companion if we're not here to keep him company."

Your face warmed immediately at the thought of your friend. He had been one of your best friends but in the past years, your feeling for him had grown into something else, something more. You were too much of a coward, and too consumed with your bitterness to examine those feelings. You had simply buried them somewhere deep inside where they'd never see the light of day. You shook your head frantically.

"We can't tell Aethelstan!" you whisper-yelled. "He's the son of the king and Lord Uhtred's ward. There'd be a whole search party after us if we take him."

Sophia's smile dropped as the reality of what they were about to do set in.

"But...but we can't leave him behind. Should we at least tell him where we're going?"

You shook your head again, "No. He'll only try to talk us out of it."

"But-"

"If you're coming with me, we have to do things my way."

"That's not fair!"

"Then stay here. Where it's safe and familiar, and things are fair," you shrugged.

Sophia sighed and nodded eventually, "Alright, we'll do things your way."

And that was the beginning of a different life. The two of you left that very night, creeping out of Rumcofa using one of Sophia's father's boats. You had insisted that she write her family a note, telling them that she was safe. you also forbade her from mentioning you in her note, although everyone had known the two of you long enough to know that where one went, the other surely always followed.

The next few years passed quickly, and both you and Sophia had made quite a name for yourselves and had amassed a small army of sorts. You had formed your own family of sorts, a band of fellow women who had run away from varying circumstances, brought together by fate. Your group of shieldmaidens was famous for protecting villages from raiders. You had taken care to travel far enough that you never ran into your father or any of his men, and over the years the fear of getting caught had worn off.

You had first heard about Lord Uhtred's fight to retake Bebbanburg through one of your messengers. After much deliberation, you and Sophia had agreed that it would only be right if you joined the fight. Lord Uhtred had always been kind and had taken care of your family ever since you could remember. You remembered him visiting and asking after your mother's health and it was your duty to help him retake his birthright.

Your army of shieldmaidens did not hesitate to volunteer to fight by your side. They trusted you to lead them and they would stand with you no matter what. You wondered if you'd see your father there. He had to be, he was one of Lord Uhtred's closest friends and if he was still alive, he'd be right there by his side. With a pang of regret, you remembered the last words you had said to him. You had wished for his death and you desperately hoped that the gods had not granted your immature selfish prayer. The years had cooled your anger and you were no longer as bitter. All the women you had met and the stories you had heard made you realize that there were worst fates out there and the sting of poison that ran through your veins became dilute.

The fight itself was long and hard and you lost quite a few women, all cherished friends and companions. Everyone lost someone in the fight and after all the brave warriors had been honoured and sent on their way to Valhalla, everyone gathered within the newly conquered castle walls to celebrate Lord Uhtred's victory. You had been able to avoid facing anyone you knew so far, but now, as you sat in the corner, allowing Sophia to bandage your injured arm, you could see Lord Uhtred and his men make their way toward you both.

Finan greeted you first, with a broad grin and a clap on your shoulder. Sophia turned around at his presence and when she saw him she squealed with pleasure.

"Father!" she crowed, throwing her arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, twirling her slightly, like the used to when she was a child.

"My girl is a warrior now," he boomed with laughter. "And leading your own army too."

Sophia's smile turned sheepish and she let go of him and lowered her gaze.

"I...I'm sorry Father. I'm sorry for leaving..." she muttered.

Finan took a deep breath and then exhaled, sighing. He shook his head and patted his daughter's shoulder gently.

"We will speak of that another time. For now, it is enough that you are safe and whole, and that you're home. You had us very worried you know, your mother especially. She was inconsolable."

"I am so sorry, Father."

As you watched Sophia and her father walk away, presumably to go see her mother and the rest of her family, your eyes stung and you blinked quickly, holding back the sudden onslaught of tears that threatened to spill. You felt bad that Sophia had to leave because of you, but more than that, you felt a pang of hurt at the thought of no one missing you. You had no mother who would be inconsolable at your loss. You busied yourself with the bandage on your arm, not realizing that Uhtred had left as well, leaving you alone with your father.

Sihtric cleared his throat and you looked up at him in surprise. Both of you were silent for several long moments, neither knowing where to start. Your eyes charted the planes of his face. He looked older, with tired lines around his eyes and mouth. He seemed to have a perpetual furrow in his brow. Now that you had seen him, you were hit with an overwhelming wave of relief. His battles had not taken him from this earth, he was still alive.

"I...I am sorry."

It was you who had mustered up the courage to speak. You looked him in the eye as you did, shoulders back, eyes blazing with defiance as if daring him to rebuke you. You waited for him to turn his head away, to make some sort of cold remark or something of the sort. He didn't though. He just stared at you and you felt rooted to the ground. Then, wordlessly, he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms. You froze in his embrace and he just held on tighter. You could not see his face but you felt his shoulders tremble and you wondered with some disbelief if he was crying. You patted his back awkwardly.

"I'm sorry Father... for everything."

Sihtric shook his head and when he pulled away you saw the tears that had tracked down his face and soaked into his beard. He cupped your face with aching tenderness and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I thought I had lost you forever," he whispered. "I thought I would never see you again. You didn't even leave a note."

The tears you had been holding back fell now, and you forced yourself to harden your eyes.

"I didn't think you'd care," you shrugged.

He thumbed the tears from your face, "I am sorry. I am sorry I ever made you feel that way. I understand if you can never forgive me but you have to know how truly sorry I am. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. Please let me. Please come home."

You avoided his pleading gaze, instead letting your eyes fall on your fellow warriors.

"I have another family as well now. They need me."

Sihtric's face was crestfallen but he nodded, "Of course. I am proud of you, you know, more than you can imagine. You have become a most fearsome warrior and I am proud to call you my beloved daughter."

"I have another family...but you will always be my father," you finally said. "The first family I ever knew. You will always have a part of my heart."

It was you who fell into his embrace this time and you could feel his joy in the way his arms wrapped around you.

"I understand that you have another place now, but know that you will always have a place with me, should you ever wish to return," he mumbled and then he hesitated. "And...you should visit. Your siblings have missed you dearly."

"I suppose a visit won't hurt."

Sihtric chuckled and pulled away, clapping your shoulder, "We have much else to talk about, I have much else to apologize for...but for now, I think there is someone else who wishes for your attention."

He gestured toward the tall boy watching you from across the courtyard and when you caught his eye, his eyes turned cold and he turned away.

"Ouch," you muttered.

"The two of you left him behind," Sihtric explained. "You cannot blame the poor boy for feeling hurt. Now go, make things right."

He nudged you toward Aethelstan's disappearing form with a wink and he was gone before you could question his action. You turned around to make your way toward your friend, waking fast to catch up.

"Aethelstan!" you called after him.

At first, you thought that he didn't hear you because he didn't turn around, but then he started to walk away faster. He walked right out the front gates and into the field beyond. You dropped your sword in the grass and chased after him.

"Damnit Aethelstan, slow down!"

Your words only spurred him on, but by now you were fully sprinting after him. You caught up in a matter of moments, grabbing his arm to pull him to a halt. He kept his back to you so you circled him, meeting him face-to-face for the first time in years. His eyes remained glued to the floor you crossed your arms in frustration.

"You won't even say hello?" you asked furiously.

He did not respond. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

"Go away," he finally muttered, his voice sharp. "I don't want to talk to you."

"No, I will not! Why are you running from me? You were my dearest friend, and now you won't even look at me."

Aethelstan's eyes finally met hers, burning with emotion, "You're no friend of mine!"

You flinched, "Hey...that's not fair."

"Friends don't do what you did. Friends don't abandon friends!"

"I never wanted to hurt you," you pleaded, reaching out to him but he took a step back, avoiding your touch. "I had to go."

Aethelstan shook his head, "I don't want to hear your excuses. You told Sophia and took her with you, but you didn't even bother leaving me a note? You clearly didn't think of me as a friend so why should I?"

"I couldn't take you with me. You know that."

"You could have at least asked. You could have at least let me know!"

"It all happened so fast, I didn't get a chance. I-I am sorry."

"Don't bother apologizing. You don't owe me anything," he shrugged. "It won't change the past."

"No...but it's a start. I should have told you that I was leaving. I should have explained why I had to go. I never meant to hurt you, and I'm truly sorry for the pain I caused."

"You treated me like I meant nothing to you. Now you have to accept that you're nothing to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, "You mean everything to me, Aethelstan. You're my dearest friend, and I never wanted to lose that."

"You left without saying a word. We were supposed to share everything. But you abandoned me, just like that. How dare you say that I mean something to you?"

"Please..."

Aethelstan shook his head, his eyes firm, "We are not friends. Not anymore."

"That's not fair!" you protested, voice breaking. "After all these years, after everything we've been through together, you're going to dismiss our friendship like it never meant a thing?"

"It's the truth. I can't forget the way I felt. Do you even know what I went through on my own, without you there."

The two of you stood there, locked in a tense silence. You refused to give up, your determination fueled by the urge to make things right with him, no matter what it took. You felt desperate. You couldn't lose him. Not when you had spent every day of the past few years thinking about him.

"Fine," you said finally, voice steady and shoulders slumped. "If you don't want to call me your friend, then I'll respect that. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. Please, give me a chance to fix this."

Aethelstan did not respond, expression guarded. You nodded, mostly to yourself and turned around, starting to walk back to where the others were. Disappointment churned in your gut and you felt sick. You had quite possibly ruined one of your most cherished relationships due to your own stupidity. You pressed your lips tightly against each other to prevent them from trembling. You knew that he did not owe you forgiveness. Whether or not an apology was accepted was entirely up to the person one had hurt and if Aethelstan decided never to forgive you, there was nothing you could do about it. Just the thought of it made your heartache.

Just then, a hand landed on your shoulder, making you stop in your tracks. You turned out, bewildered. Once Aethelstan caught sight of your reddened face, his eyes widened.

"What's wrong with you? Why're you crying?"

You hastily swiped your hands under your eyes, shaking your head, "I'm not."

He raised an eyebrow sardonically, "You have always been a terrible liar."

You shrugged.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," he admitted after several seconds of silence. "But I'll try."

Your eyes brightened and your lips lifted upward. You weren't a hopeless case after all.

"But I don't think we can ever be friends again," he quickly pointed out, making you deflate again.

"Right. Of course. I understand. I'll take what I can get and you are under no obligation to...to be my friend. Just your forgiveness alone is enough."

Athelstan watched you with a peculiar expression, halfway between amused and concerned.

"I don't think I can go back to being just friends with you."

"By the gods, I know! You don't have to keep saying it like it'll hurt any less."

He outright laughed then, and you bristled. You glared at him.

"What I meant, silly girl, is that I can't go back to being just friends when I think of you as more than that."

Oh.

"Yeah," he reached out to brush the tears from your lashes. "So stop moping about like it's the end of the world."

He turned around and jogged back to the courtyard where everyone was gathered, leaving you to marvel at the latest development of things on your own.

438 notes · View notes

spaceycowboys · 2 years

Text

echoes of your name inside my mind

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!reader; aegon targaryen x female!reader (one sided)

summary: aegon has a constant reminder that you will never be his, no matter how badly he wishes you to be. or maybe you could be.

warnings: light smut, yandere!aegon, pining!aegon, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), NONCON/DUBCON SEX (female receiving but not reader and not heavily detailed), noncon voyeurism, violence, threats of bodily harm, unconsented kiss, aegon is a lil creepy, not edited, will return later to edit. open ended for possible part two if anyone wants it, please let me know if i missed anything!

notes: repost because i am convinced tumblr hates me. i am not 100% pleased with this if i am being honest :( but i am still wanting to post it! i think it turned out good, it just didn’t end up exactly like i had wanted it too. thank you everyone for all your patience while waiting for this fic, and thank you everyone for being so kind when i had to delay due to being ill, i appreciate each and every one of you. i imagine this ready being the same tyrell!reader from my fic starry eyes sparking up my darkest night but not necessarily a sequel to it! just could possibly be in the same universe. please interact and leave a comment or reblog and let me know your thoughts, feedback of any kind if always so appreciated! please heed warnings before you consume this content! i don’t want anyone reading anything that may make them uncomfortable. title credits: don’t blame me by taylor swift

word count: 4.1k

Aegon’s never felt this way before. The swelling in his chest so unfamiliar when you smile softly at him, a smile you typically reserve for your husband, directed towards him across the table at dinner.

Your hair is down this evening, something you’ve only started doing recently. Foregoing the braids and just letting it fall down your back, it looks better with the way it frames your face when it’s down, Aegon thinks to himself. By the looks of it, Aemond thinks so to.

Aemond loves you, his sweet and kindhearted lady wife, so very deeply. At one point it would’ve made Aegon sick to his stomach to witness, willing him to throw up whatever . The way he dotes on you, holds your hand while you walk through the Keep, brushes your hair back when it gets in the way of your reading, tenderly rubs your face with his thumbs when you get excited while talking.

It still does make him sick to his stomach, just not in the same way it used to. No. This sickness crawls at his chest, a feeling so cold yet so hot, and his stomach twists into tight knots, hands clamp up and throat swells in an unfamiliar way. It makes him feel like he’s dying.

Perhaps he is. Maybe not having a love like the love you hold for Aemond will ultimately be what kills him. He’s sure Helaena could love him if he could show her any kindness. He doesn’t want that kind of love from Helaena.

Aegon’s eyes watch as Aemond continues his conversation with Jason Lannister, but hand reaches for yours as you speak animatedly with Helaena about something.

His ears are ringing as he grabs the cup full of wine and downs it in two gulps. Aemond’s hand squeezes yours twice, you smile at Helaena as you squeeze his back. The servant girl refills his cup for him, tearing his eyes away from your joined hands he looks to her.

Her hair is the same color as yours. Though, her eyes aren’t the same color, eyebrows aren’t the same shape, lips are quiet a bit smaller than yours. Her hand looks about the same size as yours, even if it is rougher and has callouses.

She will do. He supposes.

“What is your name?” He looks away from her as he asks, and her hold on the pitcher tightens.

“I’m sorry?” Her voice is shaky, she’s already annoying him.

His head snaps back to hers, eyes boring deeply into her own as the girl feels her blood run cold, “I asked you for your name.”

She looks around the table. Her eyes lingering at the Queen, his mother, Helaena, and you for a moment.

“My name is Elaine, my Prince,” He hums a bored tone before nodding.

“I will require wine in my chambers after dinner, Elaine.” His voice isn’t soft, and he doesn’t hide what he plans on doing later.

His mother looks furious, Helaena just looks down at her plate. You, however, you look almost disappointed. As if you couldn’t believe he would do such a thing, let alone in front of his own wife.

Aemond pulls your eyes away from Aegon, a frown adorning his face when he notices the grimace on your own. His eyes looks at the shame on Helaena’s and the anger on his mothers as she looks at his older brother before he puts together what must’ve occurred.

He clears his throat and gives lord Lannister a tight smile, “I must apologize, my Lord. My wife is quite tired today and seems to be ready to retire,”

The words are a courtesy, not much else, everyone at the table except Jason Lannister seems aware of that, “Can your lady wife not see herself to bed, my Prince?”

Aemond’s hand twitches at the implied disrespect, but it’s Aegon who speaks up, “Are you implying that that my brother should allow my Good Sister, his lady wife, to head to bed alone?”

Jason Lannister looks uncomfortable at the attention of the table now being on him, “I meant nothing of it, my Prince. I just meant a Lady can typically see herself to bed while her husband continues his evening,” He ends the statement with an awkward escaping his mouth at the heated eyes of the two Princes as well as the distressed eye of the Queen at the impending argument.

You clear your throat, dainty hand reaching for you husbands nervously, “Ah, yes, Lord Lannister. I am sure I could find my rest alone, however; my husband has been very tired as of late, and I require him to have an appropriate amount of rest.”

Aegon watches Lord Lannister like a hawk, demanding him to imply any further sort of insult to you. When the Lord stays quiet, averting his gaze to the Hand of the King, Aegon allows his eyes to travel back to you and Aemond, watching distastefully as he places his hand on the small of your back to lead you to your private quarters.

εїз

The servant girl, Elaine, doesn’t struggle when he grabs her waist and pushes her face down on his bed when she walks in. She knows what she’s here for, but Aegon can’t help but feel irritated she didn’t even bother to actually bring any wine. The lack of drink will make the experience harder for him, the more sober he is the more he’ll be able to realize the woman beneath him isn’t you.

She doesn’t struggle when he grabs her hair tightly, groaning when he thinks of it being you beneath him, his cock stirring to life at the thought of you being beneath him as he lets his imagination run wild.

She does, however, cry when his cock enters her. She isn’t nearly as wet as Aegon would like for her to be, but he can make do. It’s not like he truly cares much for her pleasure anyway.

When she gets to loud, he presses her face harder into the mattress and thrusts into her a little faster. Her sobbing ruining his mood, but not enough for him to stop.

He thinks of you. Your soft smile that you sent him at dinner, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke with Helaena as she talked about the twins, the way the neckline of your dress dipped almost too low to be considered modest.

Fuck, he can’t stop wondering what your bare chest looks like, if you like it when your nipples are sucked on, if you prefer being on top.

The thoughts of you have him cumming after a few more thrusts. When he pulls out, the sobbing maid stands shakily and looks to him, silently begging to be dismissed. He waves his hand towards the door after telling her to expect a visit from his mother.

εїз

Aegon doesn’t spend much time in the library, he’s never been one to care for learning any histories or reading silly stories, but he knows you do, which is maybe why after hearing Aemond would be gone for the afternoon he heads towards the library. Silently hoping for a moment alone with you, just to be in your presence for a mere moment before leaving the Keep for the remainder of the day until he’s drug back to the castle and more than likely forced into bed with Helaena.

When he turns a corner around a large shelf housing books, his eyes nearly pop out of his skull in surprise.

His eyes must be deceiving him, there is no way Aemond would have you in such a position where people could see you.

But he does.

Aegon feels like he’s intruding on something, and honestly he knows he is. But he can’t tear his eyes away.

Aemond has you pressed up against a bookshelf, one hand pressed against your chest to hold you in place. He’s under the skirt of your dress, though Aegon can’t see what Aemond is doing, he has an inkling of what’s going on beneath your skirts.

He’s heard whispers of your husband’s insatiable appetite for you, how maids would often be searching for you only to find you in a semi-public area with your husband’s head between your legs or roughly fucking you from behind. He’d thought they were lying, honestly. There was no way Aemond would doing such a thing, his self-righteous brother wouldn’t dare do such a thing to his sweet wife.

Apparently he does.

You’re biting your lip to keep any noises from coming out, whatever Aemond’s doing with his mouth beneath your skirts, you’re very much enjoying.

It’s not really the first time Aegon has seen the two of you in such a position, but never in a public place. Not that anyone but the two of you really visit this particular library.

Usually when Aegon watches, he watches from a distance. There is a balcony on a tower that if he stands at the right angle he can see in your room is his go to spot. Or, when he’s feeling desperate, he’ll hide in the tunnels of the Keep, standing outside the one leading to your room with his cock in his hand as he listens to your moans and pleas as Aemond fucks you harshly.

“Aemond,” Your voice is a breathy moan, it sounds like heaven.

Your hands rest at your sides, clenched tightly as your husband eats you as if you’re the last meal he’ll be allowed to have. Which Aegon can’t ever say it out loud, but he would do the same. He’s never been one for giving oral, but if he could live and breath between your thighs, he mouth would rarely leave your cunt.

Your moans have Aegon’s cock stirring to life beneath his pants as he watches. He doesn’t know how long Aemond has been committing the taste of you to his memory, nor how close you are to cumming, but if he had to guess you’re close.

Your body is tensing, hands gripping the edge of the bookshelf so tightly he wonders if it will break, moans getting louder and nose scrunching up. Chants of his brother’s name, Aemond, Aemond, Aemond leave your mouth is desperate, pitchy whines. Whole body shaking as his brother’s hand moves from your chest to take one of your own and intertwine your fingers.

The loving gesture has Aegon’s cock softening as he bites back a scoff. It’s easier for him to watch when Aemond has had a rough day, more interested in taking in the moment rather than giving. When Aemond is soft, it’s not as easy for him to remember who you are to him, who he is to his brother.

Your breathing evens out but your hand stays intertwined with his brothers, eyes still closed in the afterglow of your orgasm. Aegon decides to take his leave when he notices his brother moving under your skirt. He doesn’t want his mother to think any less of him than she already does; for not only lusting for is good sister, but for watching as his brother pleasures her.

He can always find you later, he supposes.

εїз

Aegon does find you later.

He finds you sitting in the Godswood, praying to the Old Gods just as you pray to the Seven in the Sept with Helaena.

“You pray to the Old Gods often, sister?” His voice startles you, a laugh slipping past his lips as you turn to him with wide eyes.

“Prince Aegon, you frightened me,” Your voice is as soft as it always is, steady as if not to show how much he actually frightened you moments before.

“Apologies, sweet sister,” He hums out, as he makes his way over to sit next to you in front of the weirwood tree, “I did not know your family had the faith of the Old Gods,”

You hum softly before glancing over at him, “During my time in Winterfell I became quite fond of their faith,”

Aegon feels his stomach turn sour at the mention of your time in Winterfell, when Cregan Stark had been the one your father had been leaning most towards for your betrothal, up until his grandsire and mother sent a letter offering Aemond’s hand.

“You spent a lot of time there?” He know how long you spent there, how fond you became of the North and the people, of Cregan. His brother spoke about the distaste he held for the Starks often after you had been moved here permanently as his.

“Hm, a little over a year, it was very different than Highgarden, and very different than here,” You trail off, talking highly of the North.

Aegon stops listening to your words, opting to watch the way your mouth moves as you speak. He doesn’t know what comes over him, maybe it’s the close proximity, or perhaps it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve actually been alone with him, he isn’t sure.

But one minute, your speaking and smiling, then the next, Aegon’s mouth is on your own. A gasp of pure shock escapes you, eyes wide in horror.

Your mouth is as soft as he imagined it would be, but you rip yourself away from him before he can truly savor the taste of you.

You look like you’ve been struck, eyes wide with tears lining them and mouth open in shock. Aegon’s throat tightens up at the look of betrayal on your face, “What have you done?”

His hands shake as he reaches for your own shaky ones, bile rising in his throat as you stand quickly and move to leave the area, more than likely to find your husband and tell him what his brother has done.

“Wait,” He rushes to follow you, “Wait! I’m sorry, fuck! I don’t know what came over me?”

His hand grabs your wrist, squeezing tightly as he turns you towards him, “I’m sorry. I don’t- Please don’t tell Aemond,”

You struggle to pull yourself away from him, causing his grip to tighten even more as he shoves you up against a nearby. You can feel it bruising, “Of course I am telling him! He is my husband, and you have dishonored me!”

He winces, “No, no I haven’t. I would never, you don’t understand. It was a mistake. I did not mean to,”

“You did not mean to? What was your intention then, Aegon?”

He sighs, frustration rising in him as he looks at you and your stupid, beautiful face, “I love you,”

Horror bleeds into your features, “No!”

A halfhearted laugh escapes him, “Indeed, my Lady,” he nudges his nose against your own, causing you to jerk away from him.

“Aegon-“

“Don’t say anything,” He whispers softly, mouth ghosting against your own, “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Tears fall down your cheeks as you look at the man before you. He’s smaller than his brother, but still bigger than you. And his nails are now digging into your wrist painfully, blood seeps through his fingertips.

You’ve heard the whispers, your own handmaidens doing their best to keep you from the older prince due to them. The whispers of how when he travels to the streets of silk, he requests women who look similar to you, or enough like you from behind. How your husband never allows you to be alone with his brother. You didn’t want to believe them, refused even.

You cannot ignore the words as they whirl around in your head now.

His face is in your neck, nose nudging at the junction of where your shoulder and neck meet as he inhales your scent and sighs.

“When I’m King, I could take you from him. I’ll get rid of him, rid myself of Helaena. Just you and me, sweet girl,”

Your ears are ringing, fear rushing through your veins as you begin struggling against him as sobs escape you, “Please let me go, Aegon. Please don’t hurt me,”

The fear that bleeds through your words cause him to rip away from you, as if your touch burned him. He looks as if he’s actually seeing you for the first time since he kissed you.

Your face is wet with tears and snot, hair slightly disheveled from the struggle, wrist bruised and bleeding from where he was gripping you. It shames his to watch you struggle to catch your breath, you are obviously struggling heavily with what he’s done, and his veins are on fire looking at you. He’s disgusted with himself as he feel his cock harden at your appearance.

“I’m, fuck, I’m sorry,” He’s sorry he hurt you, but he’s not sorry about much else. He knows your going to tell Aemond, and he won’t be lying when his brother comes to confront him. He may be a pig, but he can’t bring himself to dishonor you or imply you a liar.

He watches as your wipe your face, watching him wearily as you slowly leave, surly rushing to find a handmaiden to help you clean yourself up.

He decides to go to his room and wait for Aemond to visit him, or his mother. He supposed it’ll be whichever you run into first.

εїз

Aemond feels his blood boiling as he marches from your room to Aegon’s. Fury flooding his veins as he grinds his teeth together.

The state he found you in was heartbreaking, blood on your wrist still flowing as you cried and sobbed out what had happened before getting on your knees and clinging to him like a child, begging him to not be angry with you.

Anger was never an emotion Aemond felt like he could possess towards you. After all, you’re his sweet, sweet wife. He loves you.

Aegon, on the other hand, is a different story. He knows that no matter how bad he wants to, he can’t kill his brother. He wishes he could, but his mother would be furious if he did so.

He dismisses the guards as he walks into his brother’s room. Aegon stands, preparing himself for a fight immediately, only to be caught slightly by surprise as his brother gives him a once over and then starts laughing.

Aemond laughs, an actual humor filled laugh, “I’m sorry, truly, this is just so fucking funny,”

Aegon flushes, a deep red covering his face, “What?”

“Are you fucking stupid?” Aemond grits out through clenched teeth, “She is my fucking wife. My wife!”

Aegon loathes the tone in Aemond’s voice, the way he’s talking down to him as if he’s actually done something wrong, which he knows he has. But it’s not as if he raped you.

“I am painfully aware, brother-“

“No, you spoiled fucking cunt, I don’t think you are,” Aemond pushes him up against the wall harshly. “And, quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck if you are or not.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, “I know she is your fucking wife, Aemond.”

Aemond’s hand is on Aegon’s throat before the bitter sentence spits its way out of his mouth, squeezing in a threatening manner, but not tight enough to choke him fully. If Aegon hadn’t pissed him off, and if he couldn’t see the look in his brother’s eyes, Aegon could assume he was jesting.

“If I find you even breathing near her again, I’ll cut your fucking cock off and feed it to Vhagar. You dishonor our mother, you dishonor your wife, I will not allow you to even think about attempting to dishonor mine just because you’ve decided you want her,”

It’s not a time to pick at him, Aegon knows this, yet the words come out anyway, “And yet you fuck her anywhere you can get your hands on her, that is a bit dishonoring, do you not think? Hm, little brother?”

Aemond’s fingers squeeze at Aegon’s neck, “I will fuck my wife anywhere I please, brother, because I am her fucking husband.”

He rips his hand from Aegon’s neck when he starts turning slightly purple, “I pity you, Aegon.”

Aegon growls and considers lunging at him, “I don’t want your fucking pity,”

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “No, but you do want my fucking wife. And you cannot have her,”

A fit of rage fills Aegon as he watches his brother laugh at him, “When I become King, I could annule your marriage to her, and take her for myself,”

Aemond’s face is hard again, eye gleaming in a deep anger, “If you attempt to do anything of the sorts, you will be disappointed when I turn to our older sister and back her claim,”

Aegon knows it was a low blow, and he truly never would annule your marriage to his brother. He wouldn’t want to have you against your will, despite what people say about him.

His head falls slightly, “I wanted her, at one point.”

He’s never admitted it out loud to anyone of importance, when you’d come to court with your father all those years ago, been kind to everyone you’d met, Aegon had been taken with you. A small similarity the two brothers shared despite their many differences.

He’d heard his father speak to his sister about how you’d be a good match for her son, a true Queen you’d be one day. He silently hoped his mother would try to take you from Rhaenyra and give you to him, and he’d been partially right.

His mother did fight for a marriage for her son, Aemond. While Aegon was stuck marrying his unhinged sister, his crippled brother would be given your hand if your father agreed.

Sometimes he wonders if he would have turned out different if he would’ve spoken up, but he knows he’ll never know. Aemond would probably kill you if it meant saving you from the horrors that you would most likely live if Aegon took you. His sexual appetite alone would never be satiated, Aegon knows Aemond would see it as doing you a favor.

“I know,” Aemond’s words surprise Aegon. “You know?”

“I’m not stupid. I see how you look at her, how the whores and servants you tend to ask for look like her. I know you watch when I take her,”

Aemond’s words should bring Aegon shame, but they don’t, “I am not sorry,”

It’s clearly stated, the clearest thing he’s said to Aemond in years, if they had been closer Aemond may have cared.

“And I am not sorry, either.” His hurt tone hurts Aegon’s heart, but it doesn’t hurt it more than knowing that he’ll have to watch you be with Aemond for the rest of his life. “She is my wife. You have a wife. If for whatever reason you are still unsatisfied, you have plenty of whores at your disposal, find one that looks enough like my wife to state you,”

Aemond closes his eye takes a deep breath, a look in his eye that Aegon does not recognize when Aemond looks back at him, “If you touch her again, if you draw blood from her body again or tears from her eyes, I’ll take your fucking head and gift it to her. I won’t see you near her again. I may not be able to kill you right now for harming her, but do not take this as me letting this go. You are lucky our mother loves you, because if she didn’t I would not let you live for what you’ve done. If it happens again-“

Aemond cuts himself off and shakes his head, giving his brother one final bitter look before storming out of his chambers.

As he watches Aemond walk away, Aegon’s bitter feeling molts into something deeper. His brother is right, he does have whores satiate him, plenty of them can look like you. He can shove their faces into whatever surface is near and pretend it’s you under him.

Aemond will ruin this for himself, Aegon knows it deep down, feels it in his bones. He knows Aemond is only possessive because he knows how unworthy he is of you; he’ll slip up somewhere. And when he does, when he does somehow ruin things with the pretty little rose from Highgarden in an unmendable way, and only then; Aegon will step in and show you a new form of undoubtful devotion.

Aegon will be King, a fact everyone but his cunt of a sister knows. But you? He’ll worship your body and fill you with his son before Aemond even knows what hit him. You’ll be the Queen.

#aegon ii x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #aemond smut

2K notes · View notes

beidousbeloved · 1 year

Text

birthday girl.

a/n: hbd to my dear friend and happy holidays to my motherfuckers. my asks are still open for sorority/frat!character ideas, so send them in if you have any. make sure to check my request guidelines and the list of who i write for before sending anything in!

pairing: sorority!wanda maximoff x sorority!fem!reader

summary: you’re new to greek life and find yourself in trouble with one of your sorority sisters during your birthday party.

warnings: 18+ only, smut, oral sex on strap-on (r giving), strap-on use (r giving), choking

word count: 1.5k | marvel masterlist | navigation

you do not have permission to translate or repost my work on tumblr or any other platform. likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated!

You navigated through the crowd of sweaty bodies, trying to get to the other side of the house. Rush had barely ended and you were already having to attend a party. Not only that but that party was being thrown for you. One of the girls had gotten word that it was your birthday after you’d let it slip that you were planning on leaving for the weekend to celebrate with your friends and family back home. Sharon told Monica, who told Natasha, who told Pepper, who told everyone, and took it upon herself to delay your plans by a day by throwing a party for you.

There wasn’t anyone you could blame for the position you were in aside from yourself. You couldn’t have expected privacy and peace in Delta Phi Epsilon. If you had rushed for any other sorority, you’d be in a similar situation, but Pepper was notorious for throwing the craziest parties in the city.

Some of your sisters urged you to dance with them throughout the night, to which you politely declined. The music wasn’t to your taste, not that you could tell since you were focused on the intensity of the bass. Luckily, you didn’t have to suffer through that much longer once you reached the door. You took the opportunity to quickly stumble outside while no one was looking for you.

There were still a few people around, but it was much calmer outside. Your shoulders dropped in relief that you could finally get some air. You leaned against the railing of the balcony and silently observed your surroundings. However, you weren’t paying much attention to the area you stood. You flinched in surprise hearing someone clear their throat beside you.

Turning your head, you were immediately greeted with the sight of Wanda Maximoff. Your eyes widened. You hadn’t interacted with her during Rush aside from her bumping your shoulder when she was trying to leave the house. She was two years above you and one of the few people that made up Pepper’s inner circle.

“What’s wrong, birthday girl? Why are you so shocked to see me? We’re going to be living in the same house for the rest of the year. Maybe longer if you can last.” For Pepper to know you was one thing. She was Pepper, she knew everything about all of your sisters. But for Wanda to know you, or at least of you was something you weren’t prepared for. Wanda sighed when you remained quiet for longer than she had anticipated. “What’s your name again? Come on, you’ve gotta be able to answer that at least.”

Well, maybe she didn’t even know of you. But she at least knew that it was your birthday. That was a start. “Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n,” Wanda repeated to herself, scrunching her eyebrows as she thought. “Oh right! You’re the girl that got in my way the first day of Rush.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I’m sorry, but you bumped into me,” you tried to explain. It was of no use, though. You knew you had made a mistake the moment your eyes locked with Wanda’s.

“So you’re going to pin your mistake on me?” She questioned. You were far too weak to protest her accusations. Maybe you shouldn’t have signed up for Greek life because it was clear that the brunette wasn’t going to let you live this down.

“No- I was just trying to-”

“You should really stop talking before you get yourself into more trouble, princess.” She warned. Despite her threat, you melted at the new title. “You know if we don’t get along, your life here won’t be easy, right?” You nodded in response. “See, you’re doing better already. But if you want to move past this, you’ll have to make it up to me, baby. Think you can do that?” You nodded again and her hand found yours.

Wanda smirked, dragging you back inside and down the hall. She opened a door you had never been on the other side of before and let you in. She locked the door behind her and led you further into her room. Her bedroom was much larger than yours and it seemed like she had it all to herself, while you had to share with another recruit. Perks of being close to Pepper Potts, you supposed.

The brunette walked over to her nightstand and bent over to pull something out of the lowest drawer. Your eyes fixated on her ass as she rummaged through it. “I know you’re looking, honey.” You looked away flustered as she stood back up and favored you. “Do you know what this is, baby?” Wanda asked, holding up a strap-on.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly offended, thinking she perceived you as someone dumb and naive. Wanda’s eyes stayed on you as you thought about your next move. You considered leaving, but you knew by the look on her face that she was not pleased by your thoughts, so you answered to please her.

“Yes-”

“Good.” She interrupted. “Get it ready for Mommy’s pussy.” Wanda pulled you closer by the back of your neck and held the strap in front of your face. Your lips wrapped around the tip of the toy as you allowed Wanda to slowly work it into your mouth. “That’s my good girl, I’m gonna have lots of fun with you.”

When you had almost taken the entire thing, Wanda abruptly pulled the cock out before shoving it back in. You gagged slightly when it hit the back of your throat, but that didn’t deter her from continuing to move the dildo in and out of your mouth.

Once Wanda was satisfied with your work, she removed the cock from your mouth and began to undress you. You moved to do the same with her, but she slapped your hands away. “Mommy can take care of herself, princess. All you’re supposed to do is listen to me.”

“Yes, Mommy. I’m sorry.” Wanda hummed in approval. She may have told you to stop talking, but perhaps some things were acceptable. As long as you kept it short and she agreed with it.

Wanda handed you the strap-on and reached underneath her skirt to pull her panties off while you struggled to put the harness on. “Do I have to do everything for you?” Wanda huffed, rolling her eyes while helping you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled as she pulled you down onto the mattress with her.

“You think you can make me cum without my help, honey? Do you think your dumb little brain can handle that?” She questioned, reaching between your bodies to align the cock with her core.

Instead of answering, you snapped your hips up, filling Wanda. Her hands grabbed your arms as you began to work the toy in and out of her cunt.

You pulled her top down and leaned your head towards her chest. Wanda gasped as your lips wrapped around one of her nipples. One of her hands moved to the back of your head, holding you down while the other slid down her body to rub at her clit. She huffed as you pulled away from her chest, grabbing your neck. You replaced her hand with yours and began teasing her. “Come on, baby. Do you wanna make me cum?”

“I don’t know. Do you deserve it, Mommy?” You asked, pressing down on her clit. Wanda moaned, rolling her hips towards yours.

“Are you really not going to give me what I want, honey? This could easily turn into a punishment.” Wanda purred, gently squeezing the sides of your neck. “But I’m sure you’d like that since you like being a bratty slut.” You released a pathetic whimper in response. “So are you going to listen to me, princess?” She smiled when you let out a small ‘yes, Mommy’ and slid her hand up to your jaw. She cupped your face and leaned up. Her lips ghosted over yours as you picked up the pace.

With a few more thrusts, the brunette came undone in your arms. Wanda fell back against the bed as she came down from her high. You were disappointed that you didn’t get to kiss her, but you shook that feeling off while you watched the brunette try to collect herself.

“I think you did a pretty good job showing me how sorry you were, honey.” Wanda breathed out when you removed the toy from her cunt. “I’d usually let you go, but I can’t just do that to my little birthday girl.” Wanda cooed, flipping you onto your back. She crawled up the bed, setting one leg on either side of your head. “I can’t let you leave before I give you your present.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #sorority wanda #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #m’s works #m’s fics

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sgiandubh · 5 months

Note

He's a grown man, not a boy. He also didn't do anything. Blaming him for being manipulative is unnecessary. He posted nothing, and he said nothing. This was not Hawaii 2.0. If those across the street had something going on in their life, instead of spending all their time searching across the internet for women he's acquainted with to harrass, we'd all be better off. In a lot of ways, some shippers are just as bad as antis, always at the ready to call him names and tell him to grow up. As old timers around here say time and time again: wait awhile, and things make sense.

Dear Blaming Anon,

I hope you realize I call S The Boy with my very own & personal brand of sarcastic (but deep) tenderness. Perhaps I was unclear or you have not seen the pictures of myself I have repeatedly posted around (one of my best decisions ever!), but unlike many in here, I am just two years older than S. That allows me to have a completely chilled out perspective (really!) and a less alarmist eye on some shenanigans (nothing I have not heard of people, well, our age, LOL).

Why would you infer I blamed him for anything is beyond me. I was merely stating the obvious: a clearly staged away match, with a script delivered via Inbox by PR and spun by the Chorus. Might I remind you, comfortable watcher, that Anon who tried to intimidate me, because I clearly hit many nerves around?

You can only blame someone if you consider he or she owes you something. Unlike many people here, I do not think These Two owe us anything at all. They do owe many things to Themselves, but that is another story and not mine to tell: I am not here for this, sorry.

It is true, he said nothing of his whereabouts. But he did post, may I remind you, the MPC Instalive that started the whole long-scripted ballet of humming, and shuffling and going to the dentist's (every time there is something to 'disclose') and delaying posting for US primetime (every time there is something to 'disclose'). I mean, LOL - the French call it comédie boulevardière and the Anglo-Saxons, vaudeville. In 2024, we call it Tumblr. By saying nothing, he conveniently let it flow and grow. Why? Because busy hands are happy hands.

Just like you, I am watching from the sidelines and find the plot wanting.

And that is all I will say for the moment. As I already suggested, I keep my little assassin ironies for the dénouement of this Jedi Duel in the making.

This difference between old timers and newbies will always make me smile. It reminds me of the internecine Communist skirmishes between the Illegals (many of the Eastern European Communist Parties were outlawed, in the Interwar period, primarily because they were infested with Soviet spies) and the Reformers (people born in the 1930s and 1940s and thus, lacking those 'aristocratic' credentials). If History serves, they both lost the propaganda war. Let's not make this same #silly mistake and keep united.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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silverskull · 14 days

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Chenford and The Rookie S6

This is a post where I vent my frustrations with The Rookie season 6 and the Chenford breakup. I will take questions, but I do not guarantee an answer. Retain the fact that this is a TV show I am mad at, not someone/thing in your personal life.

This month/few weeks haven't been great for me to absorb what happened in the last episodes of the season. Some of the reasons are listed below before I start sounding off.

-Unrelated but irritating:

Working 3 jobs, only 1 is paid.

Crunch time at all 3 jobs

Visiting family expecting all of my time (same crunch weeks as work)

-Related and disappointing:

Cancelled cameo

Cancelled convention appearance

Sloppy SM and PR, frequently missing Melissa

Short S6

Late S7 renewal announcement

Delayed start S6 and extra-long hiatus before S7

Specifics:

Okay, so in 606 Tim lied - so did Lucy and Lopez. Why was there no IA investigation for them or concern about their honour? We were led to believe in 214 (Casualties) that everyone involved in an off-book mission could be compromised. So now why is the fact that Tim is lying more important than either woman compromising their career? Why is there no acknowledgement of THEIR discomfort? Lucy was already on shaky ground after he let her take the blame for SOME RANDOM SCENE COPS??!!? at the clown murder before her detective exam, but now I’m supposed to be worried about Sergeant Spotless-Record Bradford and his honour?! He could have just let that Ray guy go, or even fucking TOLD SOMEONE. He'd still have saved the Venezuelan, but it would have been above board.

And then, apparently the breakup happened over the aforementioned lying and Tim and Mark’s coverup of Ray’s misdeeds. We got no further clarification on this. And I really tried. I read deeply, DEEPLY into Tim’s reasoning (there are tumblr posts and twitter threads). I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I earnestly plead with people on twitter to give it time. But instead of that patience paying off, all we got was Tim trying to act normal, Lucy justifiably pissed, and generalised "things" opened up in (blackmail) therapy?

(Here’s where people have been coming at me too: I don’t really care about the therapy storyline. Honestly, if it’s not done well, I don’t know why we bother. I'm not out to get therapy, I just don't think it's working here. Just mention it and carry on like with Lucy after DOD, or show some scenes from the damn sessions. But turning the therapist into a blackmailer for Monica, who was selling to The Swiss?!?? or an Argentinian??? (I don’t even know and I do not care, and I will not listen if you try to explain, lalalalalala) How did we even end up here???)

And it PISSES ME OFF that we spent years building up the momentum for there to be turbulence in their relationship over Lucy going UC. We were ready. We were waiting. The traps were laid and baited. And they just went PSYCH! IT’S TIM’S ARMY DAYS THAT ARE THE PROBLEM, EVEN THOUGH WE LEAD YOU TO BELIEVE HE WAS WELL ADJUSTED BACK IN 214 WITH MITCH AND 311 WITH KATIE BARNES LOLOLOL

We have spent SO MUCH time on Tim's backstory. In fact, here's a list!

Isabel - wife -> ex-wife, UC drug addict, unfaithful

Tom Bradford - abusive father

Army - Let Mitch get his leg blown up; told Katie to let it go with a ladybird; unblemished record;

Cop Buddies - Wrigley -> lazy; Mack -> Addict;

Love Interests - Isabel, Rachel, Ashley

Family - Genny and Tyler (and some other nephew, and apparently a niece and a drunk uncle)

Here is what we know about Lucy:

Mother, Vanessa and father, Patrick, are psychologists and hard on Lucy

Mother had an affair with a patient (also named Patrick) who is Lucy's father, but - boo - he's dead. So is bff Jackson.

Aunt Amy and unseen Nana are nice.

Lucy's other love interests (206 ex, Emmet, Chris, TIMOTHY BRADFORD) have been assholes.

NOW WHOSE FECKIN BACKSTORY DO WE NEED TO SEE MORE OF???

(sorry to those of you who have heard all this from me before, I am literally typing my sporadic thoughts with you guys into longform)

Look, no doubt characters on this show need therapy, but if we’re just gonna make it a vehicle for some random side-characters to have an entire story arc, then WHY? And like, we were misled with the Bailan getting-pregnant storyline too, only to end back up where we started with fostering - because it’s only worth second place if your ovaries are geriatric. LIKE? SO. MANY. PROBLEMATICS.

It’s as if The Rookie plotters were given the outline to the exam questions… then tried to make the answers fit all the WRONG QUESTIONS (I may be speaking from experience). If the cards are laid out one way, don’t struggle to make a different answer fit. Just use what you’ve got, and use it wisely. Especially when it’s been working so well.

And another thing!!! Canon is not fiction - we all know that. We’ve all seen the ones who get carried away with fanon Chenford and ‘Lucy is vegan’-type imaginings that were never actually true. But saying if we don't like canon then we should just write or read fiction to deal with it is only serving to send people deeper into denial. There is a point where you are not crazy, and the writers did something stupid and you start understanding what ‘jumped the shark’ actually means.

Speaking of outdated TV lingo, I saw a really good tweet from Brian_Cronin :

TV showrunners accepting the "truism" that getting "will they/won't they?" characters together hurts the show, always citing Moonlighting, is because they like "rules" that remove their responsibility, as "Don't write the show poorly once they're together" puts the onus on them.

This goes for Chenford. No, Eric Winter. No, Alexi Hawley. We don’t need to see a breakup because it’s more like ‘reality’. Here’s a shocker: we come to watch a COP show, in this age of police brutality, global dictatorships, internationally ignored genocide, timelines full of dead babies and the constant looming threat of utter climate destruction to ESCAPE from reality. We are not watching a COP SHOW - A SHOW ABOUT ONE OF THE MOST VIOLENT, ABUSIVE POLICE FORCES IN THE WESTERN WORLD - for “reality”. Get your fucking head in the game. We supported you through pandemics and strikes, and you pull this season of SHIT on us.

I love all the characters, but I’m hooked for chenford. And I feel really badly treated.

If I was marking your exam, you’d get a failing grade.

“Started off well - linked UC storyline to previously-hinted relationship trauma. Dropped the plot entirely mid-way and brought in a host of unknowns. Tried to blame breakup on army issues previously marked as ‘resolved’, instead of UC drugs and unfaithful wife/abusive father? Reused names multiple times. Confusing and inconsistent. Fatally underused Chen character - inexplicably failing downwards, while Nolan character inexplicably promoted upwards. Use basic research next time."

#chenford #the rookie #personal thoughts #do NOT come at me bro #this is my tumblr and i'll bang the walls if i want to

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sweetsimp · 10 months

Text

Dark Photographs || Obey Me x Reader -- Part One [Lucifer]

TW!!! Please read the warnings before proceeding.

A/N: HELLOOOOO sorry for the delay, ive been super busy with all of these classes, I havent been able to work on dark photographs. I WAS IN SIX COLLEGE CLASSES AHHHHHHHHHH also haha what if i opened up my tips..................... would you guys.... wanna... um...

ANYWAY I ALSO FINISHED RAINCOODEEEEE I FINISHED IT AND IT WAS AMAZING and if you dont know what that is uhhhhhhhhhh GO FIND OUT AHHHHHHHHH i might also write raincode stuff.................

also sorry?? for taking so long?? Ive been trying to get used to this move and i finally pushed myself to stop putting this off, but I WAS WRITING IT IN A SEPERATE APP CAUSE TUMBLR KEPT NOT SAVING MY WORK and then it just pasted as one whole paragraph and fixing it was the only proofreading that i did (clown honk)

Warnings: dark themes, kidnapping, threats, angst, angst, angst, assault, use of dr*gs, fighting, mention of not-alive, etc.

EXTRA WARNING this shit made me cry WHILE I WAS WRITING IT proceed at your own RISk

-- word count for imagine: 2257 (give or take a few maybe)

Lucifer

Sometimes he had his moments where he got on your nerves.

You get into an argument but he always makes it up to you.He'd always find a way to get under your skin, especially with the fact that he was basically the embodiment of Pride and the dictionary definition of a workaholic. He could spend hours trapped in his office, surrounded by mountain piles of paperwork, but only minutes with you.

The problem was, he seemed perfectly content with that, and it bothered you.

Now, you were kidnapped and had no way of knowing how he actually cared about you and especially in the ways that mattered most. It secretly tortured him that you could've died thinking that you were the least important thing in his life.

Was that his fault? Was he to blame?

He almost found it humorous how much he had been torturing himself, especially because he always had full confidence that he would solve the issue no problem, and everything would go back to the way it was. He forgot how fragile humans were until now. Of course, anyone that wasn't Lucifer seemed almost fragile in comparison to the Avatar of Pride, but you were a whole different thing.

You were his human.

It wasn't a lie when he said he was confident he would find you, but what he didn't know was if it'd be too late or not. He didn’t know what to do.

Were you devoured immediately or tortured? If you had been alive still, why hadn't you summoned him? What was he going to say once he found you?

The fire let out a loud crackle noise, interrupting his thoughts. He stopped in his tracks and sat down for a moment while resting his head on his hands with his elbows propped on his desk. He closed his eyes as small strands of hair tickled his skin and fell in front of his face. Shadows danced around the room to hide from the fire's burning light.

Why didn't they tell anyone where they were going? Why didn't they ask anyone to accompany them? The most likely possibilities had been work or shopping. They wouldn't go with any random demon that asked them to follow their lead, and especially if no one he trusted was with them. Why were they alone?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Lucifer lifted his head immediately. "Come in."

Mammon hesitantly walked in, dipping his head in first before pulling the rest of his body into the room to face his older brother. It was strange to see his predictable behavior get washed away in a matter of seconds, but it was a relief for Lucifer that he had one less thing to worry about.

Mammon's otherwise mischievous tone and behavior dissipated even when he spoke. "We confirmed that uh… the human was workin' right before they disappeared. Thought ya might wanna-" Lucifer didn't let Mammon finish, standing up immediately to grab his coat and make a beeline for the door. "Are the others already investigating?"

Mammon nodded.

It was strange how much fear could affect even demons, especially because of the effect you truly had on them. It could've been possible that they were equally as afraid of what Lucifer would do if he lost you. It would've destroyed him, and they knew that the façade he would put up wouldn't be able to convince his brothers otherwise.

"Where?"

Mammon didn't hesitate to give Lucifer a slip of paper with the details, which Lucifer had basically ripped out of his younger brother's hand. Without saying another word, the Avatar of Pride dragged his brother out the door and let go once it had closed and locked immediately. Lucifer wouldn't have cared if Mammon went or stayed. All that mattered to him was finding you. Maybe he spent too long looking at your room or thinking too hard about your whereabouts alone in his office, creating a pattern in the floor with his constant pacing.

Either way, his vision seemed to have cut in and out with anger and worry-- but before he knew it, he was already there.

He was going to find you.

"This was found in the trash," Beelzebub spoke, handing over a ripped up picture that had been pieced back together. "There's two different traces on here. One of them is MC, but…"

"I know where to go." Lucifer spoke, "I'll deal with it. Just gather the others."

"Are you sure-"

With just the power of his glare alone, Beelzebub stopped mid-sentence and just nodded.

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

Click! Click!

"Before you go, I want to try and take as many photos as possible." The photographer spoke, "I could make millions with even just one photo. I can't imagine how rich and powerful I'll be with a hundred of them."

The photographer put his camera down again for what felt like the millionth time. The soft clanking noise made you feel only a small drop of relief, but it also filled you with dread because of what would follow after: More adjusting. Brighter lights. Different music. More clicking. More adjusting. Dimmer lights.

Silence.

It was nauseating, but none of it came even close to what that monster did to keep you under his control. It felt disgusting. Demoralizing.

What was the point in fighting? Why were you trying to hard to think of the words, when this was a deserved ending for a sad, pathetic human?

The anger and sadness had been building up with no possible way to get out, and you would die before it ever would. It would die with all of the other feelings you kept inside. The other truths you tried so hard to protect-- from the others and even yourself. Maybe they werent truths at all, just things you tortured yourself with that you believed so hard to be the truth that anything else seemed almost absurd and unrealistic. It gave you a false sense of hope that there was any chance of redemption for all the things that made you feel sick inside.

When the anger, the sadness, and the guilt proved to be too much, it made the tears fall faster than you could have ever expected.

Click! Click! Click!

"Oh my god! That's absolutely perfect. You're an amazing model." The photographer breathed, "If Lucifer and the others weren't a problem, I could sit here for all of eternity taking these beautiful shots of your purity. Your soul. It's too hard to resist. Human emotions are so complicated, aren't they? You must feel so awful about yourself."

Click!

"So pathetic."

Click!

"Worthless."

Click!

"But it's deserved and you must know that, but I mean…" The demon said in a hushed, soothing voice. "It's not like anyone will ever get to understand how you feel. You'll die before then. Alone."

He just kept talking. You wanted him to stop.

"Lucifer probably makes you feel worthless, huh? Like you don't matter. I get it. He's so obsessed with his paperwork, isn't he? Never makes time for anyone or anything else. You're just more work." The demon spoke, "I'll bet he's taking his sweet time finding you cause he doesn't want the wait the next few decades waiting for your timer to run out. Anything else is just for the sake of Diavolo's dream."

He paused, looking at the photos before speaking again. "I know them better than you think you know them. Demons are malicious and deceiving, and anything they show you is to give you a sense of security. The truth is, you're nothing more than just a sad, weak, human."

Please stop.

"All you want is Lucifer's touch, right? You're addicted to it. That's why you can't leave. He waves his demon charm at you. One magic trick and you fall in love all over again. You eat up his dominance and power over you because it makes you feel even more special that he's one of the most powerful demons here and he chose you."

Make it stop.

"And all of that makes you feel just a little less awful about yourself for being the only human who can't be trusted by themself. It makes you feel better about yourself, with this fake illusion of power that you have over these people who never needed you. Even after your time runs out, they won't care."

Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop.

"There we go," He hummed in a sick and twisted kind of satisfaction. "That's what real emotion looks like. That's the hundredth picture. That's how easy it is to break a human. I can see it in your eyes."

Cli-

Actually, no. There had been no click this time.

You couldn't blink away the tears fast enough to find the source of the loud, shattering noise and the sounds of metal clashing against the ground in pieces with pieces of glass scattered amongst the scraps. A flash of black and red made the photographer disappear.

You heard a familiar voice behind you with the sound of someone being slammed against the wall.

"There's a reason why demons like you are at the bottom." Lucifer snarled.

His voice sent shivers down your spine. There had been so much pain buried deep under his own rage.

"It's because you're all so incredibly humiliating. Did you honestly think you could get away with this?" Lucifer let out a low chuckle. "After you're imprisoned for the rest of eternity, I promise I'll make it even more unbearable than the things that keep you up at night."

BAM!

You winced, not wanting to know the source of that noise. A gentle gust of air pushed your locks of hair forward, making it sway and fall back into place right before he undid your binds and pulled you to him in one single motion. He didn't hesitate.

"I love you." He spoke, "Please forgive me, my dear. I was… I was so incredibly worried about you. I took too long to come to your side."

It was all too much. You didn't know when you started to cry, but it all came rushing out. There was no possibility of stopping. There was no chance of hiding the pain anymore once his warmth filled in the cracks that the photographer had almost permanently left you with before his inevitable demise.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You sobbed, "I tried so hard. I just want you to be happy, but I can't do anything. I'm a human. I'm just another responsibility and you deserve so much more than that-"

Lucifer took your chin gently but quickly, clashing his lips against yours in a desperate and passionate way to prove just how much you meant to him. He knew that he couldn't heal all of your wounds as quickly as he would've hoped, but he would give up everything he had just to try.

He held you close, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist. Despite how soft he was with you, he held you in a way that made you feel like he was never going to let go. He loved you more than anything, and his comforting presence alone made the photographer's words meaningless.

Lucifer wasn't just the Avatar of Pride when he was with you. He was just Lucifer. He was just someone who put his walls up high around everybody but you. He was someone who melted under your touch, even if he pretended to only be one of the most powerful demons in the devildom in front of others. You saw the soft side of him that he had kept hidden for centuries.

He pulled away, resting his head on your shoulder. "It doesn't matter to me that you're human. You're perfect to me. You did everything right, MC. I don't want you to ever have a single thought in your mind that any of this is your fault, or that you feel guilty about a burden on my shoulders that never existed at all. You're the only person I've felt this strongly about, MC. I mean that." He spoke, "You're good enough for me, even if you may not always feel that way. There's no one else in this entire universe that could ever come close to how I feel about you. You're what I think about after a long day of work. I think of you when I wake up. I think of you during the day, when I'm working. I'm confident I'll prove that to you, MC. You deserve all of that and more."

"Let's go away for a while, okay?" He whispered in your ear. "Just you and me. No paperwork. No pictures. No anything. I want to spend the rest of eternity making it up to you… but since we don't have an eternity, I'm confident I could do it in the time we have, MC."

You nodded, letting the tears continue to fall freely down your face. This time, it had been out of the love you shared with Lucifer rather than the pain of your kidnapper's words alone. You endured so much, but deep down you knew Lucifer would keep all of his promises. Even if it wasn't out of the love he had for you, he wouldn't have let himself be known as someone who couldn't keep his word.

But he loved you, and that was the only reason you needed.

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redvelvettel · 1 year

Note

hi! saw you in need of some ideas, so how about carlos and reader having first big fight since the start of their relationship (but not cheating and happy ending pls) thank you 🥰

LET YOU GO ☆ cs55

Carlos Sainz x f!reader

Thank you for requesting, sorry it took so long tho lol. First time writing something on tumblr, feedback/ constructive criticism would be appreciated. Again, sorry for the delay and requests are open!

Warnings: angst, kinda shitty ending, but happy.

masterlist

It felt weird, sleeping alone when he was next door. She hadn't ever felt out of place being alone. She took comfort in it. But they had grown attached. And for the first time in almost 5 months, she didn't want to be alone.

It wasn't anyone's fault, really. He had been away on a double header and missed her terribly. Sure, they had been calling eachother everyday and continued talking even while it was obvious that one of them was gonna fall asleep any minute, but neither of them wanted to hang up.

And all carlos wanted to do was have his hands on her. He was always thinking of her. Every little thing he saw or did or felt took him back to her. He was growing irritated with everything because it kept him from her longer than intended.

She wasn't any different. She missed feeling carlos' arms and legs around her as she tried to wriggle out of the bed without waking him up in the morning. She'd eventually give up and lay there a bit longer, making her late for work. She didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

She was starting to grow frustrated with people at work and losing her patience over small matters. She wanted to get home and fall into carlos' arms where she felt safe.

She knew what she was getting into when she decided to let carlos into her life. She knew he would be away from home more often than not. She knew it would be hard. But she couldn't help it. You can't choose who you fall in love with. She tried resisting the pull, she really did.

But who could stay away from someone like carlos? So she couldn't really complain now, could she? She had signed up for it.

Carlos hated being away from her. He knew how lonely it must be whenever he was away. He felt guilty, like it was his fault. But she had always assured him that she would love him no matter what.

When he had finally come home, she didn't run into his arms like he hoped she would. Instead, she sat on the couch, with red puffy eyes staring at him. She had been crying herself to sleep, so confused with her feelings.

They didn't know how it started, or who blamed the other first, or what the goal was. It did no good, except ending with her in the bedroom, him on the couch, and both miserable without the other.

It was Carlos who got up first, having convinced himself to try to make amends.

He didn't just spend 2 weeks, although it felt years longer than that, without her just to come home and sleep on the couch.

She felt the door creaking open, just when she was on the verge on falling asleep. She then felt the bed dip beside her, as he got under the covers. She could sense the hesitancy in his moments dissappear when she snuggled into his arms as he put them around her torso.

They laid there, silent and content in each other's arms. But they knew they had to address it. They'd never gotten this angry or frustrated with eachother in the 5 months they'd been together. It was her who spoke up first, 'i'm sorry'

'You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. It wasn't right for us to fight instead of talking.' He got comfortable, pulling her more towards him.

'I was so frustrated with myself and I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I'm sorry.' She tried to keep the tears at bay at she spoke.

'I know, and I know it's hard for you when I'm halfway across the word racing when you're home alone. I don't want you to ever feel like you're not important to me.'

'I know how much you love me carlos, but it sometimes feels like the universe is against us.' She nuzzled deeper into his neck, her body tensing.

'When will you get it through your thick skull that I'll fight everyone on earth if I have to, just to keep you with me. I'm not letting you go.' She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, shining with love. 'Promise?'

He beamed down at her, finally relaxing.

'Promise. I love you too much to let you go, cariño.' She finally smiled, and he swore it blinded him.

He would fight with the universe if he had to, but he wouldn't give her up for anything.

They would fight many more times, shed many more tears, but it would be worth it in the end for each other.

#f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #formula one x reader #f1blr #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanart

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satanicsanity · 1 year

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Hello My sweethearts! <3

Alrighty, so... Im going to be honest, and a bit personal with this update!

A couple of you have probably noticed I'm not doing many Audios at the moment, besides the voices acting requests which had just ended yesterday or so!

I'm very sorry about that, I decided to sit down and start recording about an hour ago, but something just felt wrong. I sat for about an hour thinking it through, and thinking of what I should do. And I won't lie, I Think i need to take a break for a couple days!

This has nothing to do with Welcomehome or the Fandom, this is mostly about me and my Health in general! Over the past couple days I've been feeling extremely upset, down, and overall exhausted. Just basically, unhappy with myself.

Along with that my physical health hasn't been doing very well either. I won't get super into it, but it's caused me a lot of issues and delays the past couple days, which has effected my sleep.

There have been many issues going on in my life outside of tumblr that have been weighing me down emotionally, mentally, and physically. And that makes it incredibly hard to keep working. I have tried to push through it, but I'm very sure that is only making it worse.

In short, I just need to take a break for a couple days! Not forever! Just a bit. I will still be as active as I can and might come on to post any art I may make, but I will have to close down my requests as I've gotten over 60 pending audio requests, and that is by far not an exaggeration. I love your guys requests, but goodness they build up very quickly! Haha!

I've been overworking myself, as I've been told by my friends and today, by my own family. I have a habit of doing that, it's a bad habit that I'm trying to break.

Thank you all so much for the support you've given me, you've been truly amazing! I will be back when I can, and I'll still be active around here since this page is honestly such a comfort to me! I just need to put the microphone down for a little, you know??

I love you all very much! Please, do not worry about me! I can and will take care of everything, and am meeting with you a therapist this weekend! So please trust me when I say! Do not overthink this update, if you can help it, and do not blame yourselves at all for ANY of the this!! My brain is just mushy at the moment! (Sorry if this is word-vomit and unclear at all!)

I love you all so much, and I'll see you again very soon! <3 Lots of love, My dears!

#more updates to come #i love you all so much!! <3 #my brain is just being funny at the moment #i love yall so much

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dduane · 1 year

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Okay, I think of you as a writer from Star Trek and the Wizard series. I get that you also wrote for Television and worked as head writer.

Then I watch your Tumblr and see images for stuff and I get confused. Are you also animating shows of your stories? Is there a 'Young Wizards' animated series on Netflix somewhere that I've just not noticed? Is Ireland holding out on us and hiding this series from the rest of us?

Can I blame Boris Johnson and Brexit for my not seeing this show?

Please and thank you!

Sorry for the delay in getting back to you on this!

I have to say that this is probably one of the few things we can't blame Boris for. :)

As for the imagery: nope, no Netflix series (yet...). I do a lot of digital-image work illustrating the LGBTQ-centered Middle Kingdoms universe, though, and will be doing a lot more Young Wizards stuff as we get the new website up and running later this year.

Thanks for inquiring!

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xhanelia · 6 months

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I loved the take you made for transmasc reader because yes, so. PART TWO (this is the same anon btw, please tell me how tf is it 4:29 AM whenever I get into a writing or reading mood? Pure luck :,))

Anyway, wishing you the best and don't forget to take breaks! (I might make a full series of requests because I am too drained out to write this myself sorry)

I literally wrote everything and decided to take a break bcs this year is my last and i need to study then when i came back, i realised that tumblr did not saved any of my work. I feel like i just lost a child of mine 💀

Anyway, sorry for the delay, dear anon. I hope you like it. And i am so grateful that you still follow my posts.🖤

Sova headcannons with trans-masc reader part 2

I am so fucking mad that tumblr did not saved any of my work. I DO NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING I WROTE THIS LIKE 2 WEEKS AGO.

Ok time for improvise. In the math class.

If there is a chance to choose his partner for a mission, he will choose you if not anthing specificly needed. He likes your presence near him. It calms him down.

But if you get hurt, he will blame himself. He says he is sorry and its his fault that you got shot with his more fatal wounds while Sage heals both of you. You look him up and down with a brow raised as if you are judging him how he manages to think about you while he is in this situation.

Will make dad jokes just to piss you off.

Normaly he does not laughs at his jokes. Mostly at your reaction. But one time you did a dad joke to him during a mission and he let out a snort. The enemy bullet nearly hit his forehead.

Sage scold you both. Definitely.

Phoenix and Jett insisted to hear the joke and when you told them, even Sage let out a little giggle.

Will make your drink of choice when he goes to the kitchen to get his. Just a form of care.

He will let you make masks on his face if you insist. Even wearing a bunny bandana to keep his hair away. He does get pulled into the "girls night" in the HQ sometimes so he is used to that. (Sova, Omen and Phoenix are one of the girls. Well, i will definately wrote this to an HQ headcannons post.)

If he sees you talking with Chyper, he will get jelaous. Not like he will grab you by your arm and pull you away from him. Its more like he will side eye you both while you two have a conversation.

If Chyper gets tilted by him, after the coversation he will talk to Sova. "You know their 'secrets' right?" "I know them more than you could ever." (Insert the grumpy cat sova picture.)

He will chase you everywhere in the HQ if you steal his cape. This man runs like Usain Bolt with those legs and height of his but he will match your speed for afew minutes just to have fun. Then it is over like a jumpscare.

You can cling onto him like a sloth. He wont even budge. Looking down at you with a confused face as if "wtf are u doin?"

He is bad at video games so if you want to play with him, you'll need to teach him first. He tries his best but he still loses. Its like he does that on purpose at this point. He much prefers to cheer for you when you and Gekko have a tournament between.

He is willing to share his babushkas food with you. You are that important to him. And he will be proud if his babushka and you have a good realitionship. Even if its just from the screen.

He is the sweetest man alive. Biggest support for you and a relaible friend at most. We love him 🥰

#valorant #headcanon #sova #sova valorant #valorant sova #sova headcannons #sova x reader #valorant x reader

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luchicm04 · 1 month

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lost in the forest - part 33

Masterlist

Summary: A glimpse of how the other characters see what is happening and what they think about it.

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character

Tag: #lost in the forest fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 3.1k

Sorry for the delay!! I've been real busy with school and my personal life. Also, I've been uploading a lot of stuff to my recent tumblr account if you want to check it out. Anyway, thanks for reading and please like/reblog :3

Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst

The engagement has not made his routine change significantly; his work is ordinary between bureaucracy, processes and numbers that have long been entrusted to him, leaving aside the classified and shinobi matters. Hashirama is a person who has been able to give a start to that woman.

At first it was curiosity, then dept for the treatment they gave her when she was just an unexpected traveler from such a faraway place. Karen is not ordinary... not like the other kunoichis, much less like the civilian women he has dealt with.

She is noble without being too noble, organized, intelligent and attentive.

With her common terrors... with her way of overcoming things.

He has been watching her since she arrived... and he can’t help but feel that his heart is tightening with an emotion that he keeps deep inside his heart from the eyes of inexperienced people... from her. But not from Madara, who arches his eyebrow in amusement at him in his sullen way, observing him carefully after a meeting.

Karen had left with an attentive Tobirama, willing to continue with her own work and review the agreements that he had asked her to give them a new perspective. The Hyūga was trying to join with certain conditions, and both the Nara clan and its allies had also begun to seek the benefits of this alliance.

But that was the least of his worries. “Don’t say anything.”

“For the Sage’s sake... you are stupidly obvious,” Madara rolls his eyes crossing his arms, sitting there in his office with a sadistic look, having fun at the expense of his feelings.

He doesn’t blame him... but this just makes him huff.

“...” Hashirama does not give him any comments.

“Tell me, are you really not going to do anything?”

“No.”

“Tobirama sees your intentions.”

“They are not bad.”

“I know, but seriously... friend?” he mocks with a light laugh. “Even Izuna told me about the engagement. For a moment he thought that you...”

“I will not leave Mito.”

“I know, but...” he snorts slightly. “It wouldn’t be not rare for you to have... lovers.”

“My father never had children outside of his marriage with my mother.”

“Yes, but nobles usually do it.”

“As you said, nobles. We are shinobis... there is no point in overthinking things.”

“Mmm... you’re an idiot.”

“I’m not.”

“However, I won’t judge you if it benefits my clan. The alliance with the Uzumaki will give strength to our bases, with your marriage.”

“Mmmm...”

“That’s why you haven’t left her, right?”

“Madara... don’t go there.” He gets a little depressed seeing how his friend knows him so well. “Tobi... he promised to protect her.”

“Are you satisfied with that?”

“That’s enough for me.”

“If you say so,” Madara shrugs. “As long as she marries into our clans, that’s fine. Karen-san has shown to have a good head, even though she is a civilian... with interesting concepts.”

“I told you.”

“Izuna feels that she is too unrealistic, and the council is still upset about adding her in external consultancies.” He said the last part awkwardly given how new the word is in the vocabulary of the passionate clan. “But her points have denoted the capital leak.”

“Yes.” He is proud of those optimistic comments.

“I hate you for marrying her into your clan... I’d rather have her within mine.”

“Madara.”

“What? I’m not lying. Your move in front of the Daimyo to promise her to your brother was smart. If I had been faster... I assure you, Izuna wouldn’t let anything hurt her.”

“...” Hashirama frowns, not being able to Karen marrying into another clan other than his own.

“But that’s not the point,” the man with wild hair raises his hands with an amused laugh. “If something happens...”

“You already said that.”

“It’s just an idle comment,” the cheeky Uchiha accepts, proceeding to focus on reviewing some missions requested for them to work together.

Tobirama and Izuna will soon go on another mission. Hashirama is sure he could handle it for now, until someone else is able to cope with the hatred that still lingers.

Teamwork is difficult... but he believes in a future where they will be able to cooperate.

He smiles. Hashirama sees that this dream is so notorious... and if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have achieved it in the best way. His friend is now his ally, formerly his enemy... he laughs internally.

And even if he can’t marry her... having her working by his side is not so bad, even if it hurts his heart... even if he wanted more, he wouldn’t do anything... because he is faithful to his word and Mito deserves his respect.

She has waited so long for him.

He knows.

She loves him.

Although he... doesn’t know how to feel about it.

──

Tobirama accompanies her. Many of the clan whisper, but do not have the courage to point out anything even though the engagement was long awaited by so many. Him, not so much, taking care of everything since Karen is not usually very observant in details outside of regular work.

She is incredibly intelligent and organized, but when it comes to things like the engagement and surely the wedding, she is not so excited about carrying it out... and in some ways, it bothers him.

But he won’t say anything.

“You know you don’t have to come with me.” Karen brings him out of his thoughts with her light voice and a snort worthy of someone tired of his presence. That tone irritates him, but he only raises his eyebrow. “The garden is not that far away. And Kaori just needs some tomatoes and vegetables.”

“I have time.”

The civilian rolls her eyes. “By the way, Mito-san mentioned that the fabric is finally ready.”

“Mmmm...”

“She said Mrs. Kyoko will be excited by the quality and softness it possesses.”

“The yukata... is important.”

“I know,” the woman shrugs. “At least it will be comfortable.”

“You could have more of that fabric. I shall tell them to make everyday clothes for you.”

“There’s no need.”

“...” Tobirama doesn’t say anything. He will ask for extra clothes for the girl anyway... even though she is modest, it is normal for her to want more yukatas.

“Tobirama, I’m serious.”

“We have a lot of fabric.”

“Will you also get more for you?” she asks, looking at him from top to bottom. The shinobi is unfazed because his standard clothing is all black. He is only missing his usual armor, which he has begun to stop using within the compound and the alliance region.

Of course, he is still waiting to be attacked by some Uchiha, but the few he has seen outside their area only look at him with slight tones of revenge that they do not dare to carry out due to the value of the contract with their clan leader.

He still hasn’t gotten very used to this peace.

However, his brother has managed to make the change.

“I am fine like this,” he replies with a dry tone.

“Seriously... won’t you be wearing more comfortable clothes at home?” the woman questions his appearance with an incredulous tone. Tobirama remains thoughtful at the mention of ‘home’ but keeps it to himself.

“I do not need it.”

“Well... if you buy me more, you will also make matching ones for yourself,” the girl states easily. “If not, then... I won’t accept the new yukatas.”

“That is not something you can decide.”

“Come on... You have decided everything about the house, the wedding and engagement date... at least let me have a say in your clothes.” Her tone is irritated, but he sees that the woman stores much of the bitterness that she wants to let out.

Sometimes Tobirama wonders when he stopped wanting to dissect the girl and became so accustomed to her presence that he began to read her very well, and what her life must have been like before reaching this point.

Nevertheless, he won’t ask. It’s not his business, even when he sees her so sad...

It bothers him.

“Do what you want,” he bites bitterly.

“Yes!” she applauds amused, starting to plan to visit Kyoko together. He rolls his eyes. He is not interested in being part of her own agenda, but he allows himself to be dragged... at least to the garden, where many greet them.

He feels comfortable. People no longer treat her badly, not even as a foreigner, so he leaves her after a while of making sure that things will go well.

He doesn’t know how, but he always ends up getting involved in things that should interest him little.

Whatever... Tobirama decided to go back.

Being added to a mission with that stupid Izuna wasn’t strange. The strange thing was that he didn’t want to leave.

At least, he hopes to finish before his brother’s wedding.

He wants to be on time.

──

Kaori was the caretaker of the boys of the main line, from the time Butsuma was in charge until his eldest son rose imposingly as the undisputed leader of the clan. Such a strong man...

She is so proud of him... almost like his mother would have been.

Unfortunately, Rukia didn’t live long after the birth of her last child.

“Kaori-san?” someone calls, taking her out of her thoughts, which makes her blink to focus on that civilian that she has welcomed as her new charge at the request of her adorable leader and his brother.

“Oh, good morning,” she greets with a soft smile.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Karen-san,” the old woman assures with a motherly smile. “Have you already had your measurements taken?”

“Yes. Thank goodness Kyoko-san knows Tobirama’s,” she laughs amused by some strange memory that she surely had with the man. Who would have thought that she would be so attentive to send him to prepare matching yukatas.

Although she is not sure that Tobirama is comfortable with it, because she knows how stubborn he is and how used he is to being in his war clothing. At least he has stopped using the armor as he always did.

A pleasant change that she suspects the civilian has a lot to do with.

“Yes, I am sure he would not go on his own.”

“I know.”

“By the way, how did you convince him?” she asks curiously with a gesture to the civilian who continues her way to the kitchen. Soon it would be time to eat, so they both usually spend time in that place.

It is larger than in the previous house and surely Hashirama’s brother prepared it knowing his future wife’s quirks... cute from her point of view.

“Oh, that’s not a strange story,” the girl says with a simple laugh. At least she has left that depression about missing her family... one that she tried hard to hide, but this old woman has years of experience as a nanny and a capable kunoichi.

She is easy to read.

“It is not?” she encourages her curiosity to be calmed.

“Well, he said he would make me yukatas.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I told him no, unless he made some for himself.”

The olw woman laughs amusedly, conforming something she has been thinking for a while. “Oh... that would have not worked before.”

“No?”

“No. He is very obstinate.”

“I’ve noticed it.”

“At least he listened to you.”

“Yeah. Also, the Daimyo and Mito have brought a lot of fabric. I’m thinking about making yukatas for Matsuo, Mikami and you, too.”

“Not at all. That would be a waste for the bride and groom, so keep the fabric to yourselves.”

“Uh?”

“It is a tradition that what is given is for the use of the family... which I hope grows soon,” she says, imagining small children around the beautiful patio that has been arranged for the civilian.

Her maternal and grandmotherly instincts are thrilled, so much so that she ignores the woman’s tension over such a comment.

Excited for the future...

Butsuma and Rukia would be proud of this... She prefers to think so.

──

Mikami owes her so much despite their sullen beginning. Teaching etiquette classes, she became her appreciated and valued person... like a sister who is willing to protect her from everything that could hurt her.

Even if she doesn’t realize that she is supporting her, she will have her back.

So, she did not avoid looking with slight doubt at the woman with a sad expression on the edge of the river that runs so close. It is not strange to find her here thinking. Kaori lets her be despite the dangers around.

Despite the years, the trauma makes her doubt anyone of the opposite gender.

“You should not be alone,” she scolds lightly, starting to walk towards the rock which is being occupied by the civilian. She blinks in recognition.

“Uh... Kaori-san told me it was fine.”

“I know, but you have to be careful. Not everyone is like Hashirama-sama and the others.”

“You almost sound like Tobirama.”

“Do I?”

“He told me the same thing... but with more jabs,” she laughs carefully, as clear as she usually is, and strong in her own way that makes her proud.

“Mph... He will be your husband. It is normal that he cares for you.”

“Yeah.” She seems indifferent to the marriage.

“Now that Kaori-san is not here, you know you can tell me what really worries you,” she points out because her engagement is so strange, considering their previous interactions and how she is.

Although she is oblivious to the feelings of her leader’s brother, she knows her friend is oblivious to love.

She never saw her fall in love with anyone even though the council was persistent in caging her. That it was Tobirama who managed to do it is not abnormal, considering their work together, but it still seems weird and sudden.

No matter how many years have passed since he met her... there is still something missing.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your marriage,” the kunoichi states directly. “And the appearance of the Daimyo.”

“Uh...”

“It has something to do with it, right?”

“...” Karen looks at the sky from a distance. The noise of the river is relaxing while the forest dances to the sound of that soft summer air. “I... I don’t know what to tell you.”

“The truth.”

“I can¡t.”

“...”

“That’s the only thing I can tell you. Hashirama assured me that it was better if only a few people knew.”

“I see.” She sees the tension in the girl’s gesture... and even with those little words, she understands what this is about. A false engagement? A lie? She may not notice it, but she knows that Tobirama... might not be indifferent to it.

For a moment, though, she thought that Hashirama would break his engagement with the princess of Uzu for the civilian.

Perhaps she imagined it.

“By the way... Matsuo-kun?”

“He is now beginning to train his chakra system.” Bitterly, she wrinkles her nose at the treatment of that man’s family towards her son.

Karen doesn’t say anything.

“I am working on it. It is not that bad,” she tries to convince her friend when she noticed her annoyance. Her ways are still unusual in her eyes, but not odd within the clan.

Even if he was punished... seeing her son reminds her of Ryu’s sin.

“I’m sorry I reminded you of something so sad.”

“Do not worry... it is something I have to overcome, right?”

“...”

“For Matsuo,” the kunoichi accepts with a laugh to sit next to her. The river is not such a bad place to relax and rethink what she will do next since soon, together with other women, they will begin working on missions paired with the Uchiha clan.

She is scared... she wants revenge... but she left that behind a long time ago to carve a path without war for her little one.

He does not deserve to grow up in fear of dying so young, like her brothers... like her cousins... like her parents.

A world of peace that her friend has achieved together with her leaders, a dream she never thought she could have and hold on to... getting rid of the bitterness of working with her former enemies.

For their happiness.

──

Around the patio, Karen looks at the girl who is on the verge of collapse. Mito is such an expressive woman that since she declared that they will be something akin to sisters, she became highly eloquent, making her laugh as their integration becomes natural.

She doesn’t know what to feel, because she doesn’t know what to feel about her upcoming wedding either.

But that’s the least of it.

“Come on, Mito-san. Everything will be alright.”

“I... my brother and father have not arrived!” the redhead exclaims. Koari easily brings some tea to chuckle amused and disappear on the spot.

“They will be arriving soon, no?”

“Well, yes,” she huffs. “But Tobirama is also missing. That idiotic Hashirama sent him on a mission.”

“It was necessary.”

Mito frowns to mutter other things under her breath.

“Come, sit and have some tea,” she says while sipping another bit of her drink. Things have been so calm and with tentative alliances coming... life isn’t so bad.

She reflexes lightly with the weight of the marriage beginning to take root in her conscience. With Tobirama’s words that day... it is more enjoyable, although she still feels the sadness of remembering her family.

More so considering her next birthday...

Mito still remains her elegant self, taking a sip of the hot drink. “I cannot get enough of this tea.”

“It’s good. Madara-san brought it the last time he came.”

“Does Madara-san visit you?”

“Not much. Only when he is passing by or when he leaves a meeting, really.”

“Oh...”

“Why?”

“Well, you will marry Tobirama.”

“Yes,” she blinks without understanding what the problem was.

“You are a civilian.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wow... it shows that you do not see the issue in this.”

“There is nothing wrong in that.”

“Maybe not where you come from,” Mito giggles amused. “You are engaged. Having a friendship with someone like Madara...”

“I see.” Karen reflects on the comment logically, taking into account the culture in which she is participating. “He is a good friend.”

“I know that they extended protection to you as a clan,” Mito admits. “I must say that I did not expect that from the Uchiha.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They have almost adopted you.”

“...Tobirama didn’t explain it to me like that.”

“Well... he will probably tell you another way,” the woman says amused. “For a civilian, you have many alliances.”

Karen doesn’t reply anything. She looks at the stars a little more without thinking enough about things... it’s for the best.

For now, she will remain expectant about what comes from the future... an uncertain one.

A/N: An external chapter with different points of view. I hope you enjoy it. Hashirama’s wedding will be here soon, an awaited event along with other things.

As you can see, many have different opinions regarding Karen. Some are better than others, but no one is willing to let her go any time soon, and she doesn’t realize it.

What will happen? Will Karen notice? Will Hashirama do something? Will Tobirama clarify his strange feelings, or will he continue to deny it? Although I’m sure he hasn’t even realized it... because of how annoying it is to accept something he doesn’t want and he never thought he would have, even though he was forced to go along with this engagement.

Covering him with his duty to this peace that his brother has worked so hard for... There’s no one more blind than he who refuses to see, isn’t that right?

Thanks for your comments.

Author-chan out!

#lost in the forest fic #warring states period #angst #senju tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama x oc #ocs #hashirama senju #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #uchiha madara #uchiha izuna

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1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 2 years

Note

Hi so sorry to randomly show up in your tumblr; I am desperate for TOS and SNW friends and have been trying to find people to talk about it rather too frantically. I love your tumblr and you said you welcomed comments so I hope you don't mind me submitting this question!

I really loved your post about nerd!Kirk, because he is super close to my heart. I would even add that a significant backstory for him is his delay in firing on an alien entity when he was aboard the Farragut--no one blamed him, but he at least felt that he had been overly cautious, if I remember correctly.

That said, the Kirk in the season finale of SNW is not young!Kirk--it's Kirk in 2066, which is the year S1 of TOS takes place. Do you think that Kirk only becomes flirty and charming if he captains the Enterprise with the specific crew from TOS?

I will say that *I* didn't find Wesley's Kirk to be overly serious; Kirk is extremely serious throughout Balance of Terror. I actually found him too swashbuckle-y, myself. I feel like in Balance of Terror we see a lot more evidence that Kirk's decision to pursue the Romulan Bird of Prey is a carefully considered action to prevent war, whereas in SNW, it felt a bit more like Kirk was going on gut instinct.

The Kirk we will get in S2 will presumably be 7 years younger. Personally, I am hoping so hard for a quiet, overly conscientious Kirk who is not himself yet at all, and Pike is shocked--like are you even the same guy I saw 7 years in the future??? I doubt it will happen but it's a way to at least respond to the Kirk Drift in popular culture that saddens me so.

Ugh thank you for writing me, holy relatable! That desperation resonates. I am rabid here with feels and enthusiasm. I feel like I'm going to climb the walls and my poor partner can only take so much! XD No need to apologize, I loved everything about this. You've come to the right place, this is what I come here to do! <3 Without further ado, let’s get into it! (long ass post fam you’ve been warned)

You made such a fantastic allusion to "Obsession" (TOS 02x13) in which young Kirk's pension to overthink and/or hesitate haunted him throughout his command career. As you said nobody blamed him, but he never let it go. Kirk is hard on himself, and he has always held himself to another standard (he sends his crew on Shore Leave and yet has to be strong armed into resting himself by either Spock, Bones or both at every opportunity.)

I have to agree 100% with what you said about the SNW being "swashbuckle-y"; I think most folks were expecting our flirty, confident Jim, so they were shook by the seriousness of even this incarnation. But like yourself, I was expecting a serious Jim. In fact I felt Jim was a bit hot-headed in SNW compared to his TOS prime self during Balance of Terror. It was a deadly serious situation. It's not the time for flirting, jokes and playful banter; people are about to die. They are on the cusp of war. And people expect Jim to be frivolous and flirty on the eve of possible Interstellar War? REALLY?! Hahaha yeah, no . . .

TOS Jim was grim and VERY serious in Balance of Terror, because it WAS grim and serious. Like you, I hope we get to see more of serious, nerdy Jim. Like I am already fantasizing about him being such an extra diva arriving in shuttlecraft because he refused to have his father's precious handed down book collection transferred via beaming or anyone else because THEY'RE ANTIQUES and family hand me downs. There are officers coming and going from a shuttlecraft with stacks of books going down the hall. And Spock is waiting to greet Jim as the new Captain and instead nearly gets run down by a pair of legs and a giant stack of books teetering past. And one is about to fall off the top and the guy buried alive behind them goes "CATCH IT" and it is this BUSTED, rotted, destroyed copy of A Tale of Two Cities and Jim barks "CAREFUL that one's my favourite!-" And Spock is like "who tf holds on to something once it looks like this?" And later finds out it looks like this because it's Jim's favourite, of course it has been used into the dirt -- he needs a new og print of it AND TWOK BOOK *FLAILING* OK time to reel it back before I write a fanfic. XD

I think Kirk Drift has eroded so much of what is truly good and respectable about Jim as a character, I couldn’t agree with you more. Due to this, people forget how serious about the fleet and his studies that Jim used to be. He was a nerd. A real Boimler at the Academy. And that didn’t just disappear in TOS.

For example, Picard was the wild one in his younger years who had a rude awakening that made him stoic. Conversely, Jim is deadly serious at the academy and learns how to loosen up via his field work and camaraderie with the Enterprise crew as he gets comfortable and confident in his own skin as a commander. Kirk Drift eliminates the Kirk who ruminates and frets over each choice he makes in the aftermath. He is always vigilant and fearful of making the wrong choices that could get people hurt or killed. He is CONSTANTLY under pressure as the youngest Starfleet Captain promoted. You hear him ranting about it to Bones and Spock in TOS, hands wringing, mulling over huge decisions and feeling agony over ones that he begins questioning himself over and over thinking. What if I made the wrong choice? That’s when Bones and Spock step in to temper him. What if Jim didn’t have that support system there to turn to with all the inherited stressors and pressures of becoming a new Captain, the youngest in the fleet?

SNW Jim loses his ship and crew in that AU, and it wasn't even the ship and crew he had wanted to be assigned to in the first place. Who is out here feeling flirty and fun after that, right? That AU Jim really got the raw deal; I'm glad we were all spared that future. <3

Regarding Kirk in 2265, I do genuinely believe that becoming the youngest Captain of the flagship, that crew, and the scenarios he is put into through that incarnation definitely help to shape how comfortable and expressive he is as a Captain. Do I believe it solely comes from that? No, but I do believe that if he was assigned the Farragut over the Enterprise it would be a blow to the ego and his confidence. He worked so hard in Starfleet. He was top of his class. He did everything right. He was gunning for that flagship command because it is the vessel that is first to be assigned first contact missions, the first sent to deal with any major political, diplomatic or military interceptions; to answer any unknown distress calls or beacons. Comparatively, his life on the Farragut would be quite dull.

I’ll get further into why I think the Farragut is a poor commission choice for Jim further below, but for now let’s talk the repercussions of Jim not having the Triumvirate, the Trek Trinity, THE TURBO TEAM:

I think my sentiments are best summed up with my addition to the OG post (I am not sure if you got to see it as it was a reblog) where @s-is-for-spock asked this excellent question about the SNW Jim:

"Where is the glint in his eye?"

I'm going to post my OG response to it below:

"OOF! That's good. And true.

This is such a fantastic way of putting it!

I feel like we get a hint of why that is when Jim comes aboard the Enterprise; Sam promptly makes a comment about Jim being jealous about the ship.

It's no secret: Jim wanted the Enterprise. That was his dream. And in that incarnation, he didn't get it and was assigned the Farragut instead of the flagship for his Captaincy.

And on the Farragut, he doesn't have Spock. That team that comes up with inventive ideas and creates that spark that makes the job exciting. Mentally, Spock and Jim are a good pairing that brings out the best in each other. They're a great team that challenges and elevates one another. Also the lack of McCoy for one or both would also have a profound impact on both of them; would Bones and Spock have ever become friends, without Jim refereeing their bickering? Would Jim have survived a captaincy as long as he did without McCoy's care, talent and ingenuity? Without Spock's protectiveness and loyalty? Perhaps, but he would not have been the same person. Gene Roddenberry himself said he had intended Kirk and Spock to be two parts of the same whole who complete each other; I don't believe either would reach their absolute full potential without that. I guess this AU is when we get to see a glimpse of what it would be like when Jim doesn't have that.

It is kind of sad when you think about it, but Sam sums it up pretty well: Jim is jealous. He wanted the Enterprise. And he's also down his chess buddy and drinking buddy, aka his partners in crime. The primary relationships that actually give Jim's life with work aside meaning aren't there. The SNW AU Jim isn't living the dream that Kirk Prime got to have and I guess it shows; this is Jim without ever connecting with "the noblest part" of himself.

It makes a world of sense the longer I wend on it; of course he doesn't have that spark. He doesn't have the Enterprise. He doesn't have the finest crew in the fleet. And he doesn't have Spock.”

That was my OG take on the Triumvirate, now let’s get into the Farragut commission for Jim.

I think that yes, Jim would not be the same Jim if he did not get made Captain of the flagship at age 32; he was destined to be that time period’s first contact Captain. He was not meant to be the Captain of the Farragut, and that would be a weird choice to appoint a command track genius who just graduated at the top of their class.

Here’s my theory on why: The Farragut’s primary function is as a scientific research vessel. It would be a dream ship for a Medical Officer or Science Officer, but not a command track commission for one of Starfleet’s most distinguished graduates; one who already had impressive field accolades and firsthand diplomatic experience under their belt.

The Farragut is a Nebula class ship; it does not get the same exciting missions that would challenge Jim's intelligence, ingenuity and creativity to it's maximum potential as the flagship would.

The Nebula-class starship was primarily used for deep space scientific research missions; on occasion, it was also employed as an escort or to try out new technologies. I imagine that a scientific research vessel would be better suited to Sam Kirk than Jim Kirk. Sam would love a ship that is stable, consistent, lower risk, a fairly standard and consistent daily routine that focused more on study and less on exploration of the unknown firsthand.

While Sam Kirk would thrive on a Scientific study vessel like the Farragut, I feel that Jim Kirk’s command commission is wasted there with untapped potential. Scientific research is not Jim’s forte or his background of study; he’s capable, but it isn’t his passion - which makes it such a weird choice to appoint him there. I can imagine Jim having a full on Evil!Kirk tantrum back in his quarters once he got his assignment like: ARE YOU F***KING KIDDING ME?

I WANT TO MEET ALIEUMS NOT STUDY MICROBES AHHHH-

Ahem.👁️👄👁️ Excuse me, pardon me.

I think they make a strong effort of really pushing that this universe is “off”.

For the SNW fans, their hint that this was not the right timeline was dropped with La’an acting super OOC before we learn of Spock’s fate (of course the biggest neon “this shit ain’t right” sign).

For us TOS fans, they also pushed that something is “off” about this timeline by assigning Jim Kirk to a scientific research field commission captaincy. Just . . . what the what now? That was such a WTF moment for me when I heard that.

It gave me AOS Uhura vibes: They assigned Jim Kirk to the FARRAGUT? *frothing, getting held back* HOW DARE THEY!

I kid, I kid, but I digress. In my mind, Jim is destined to be on the flagship vessel at that time; initiating first contact, grappling complex interplanetary missions, diplomatic situations, and bouncing off of Spock and Bones to help problem solve challenging missions that they are meant to overcome as a team. Jim is needed there, and now we know his Captaincy is essential to the fate of the Prime Universe. Just as Pike was always destined to be Captain of the Enterprise for his timeline, he was destined to later pass that torch on to Jim Kirk when he felt he was ready.

I think the episode of SNW supports that assertion perfectly when Pike says as much standing in front of that screen of Jim Kirk while addressing Spock: "Let's just say I . . . think the universe is telling me that some fates are inescapable".

This is further solidified by the Pike and Kirk scene before the timeline was restored (and I completely FREAKED OUT BECAUSE PIKE! KIRK! IN THE SAME ROOM! TALKING! I'M OK I SWEAR AHHHH-) Pike: "You know, I don't think I can explain it, but I think I was supposed to meet you."

Kirk: "I get that feeling, too . . . did it ever occur to you that sometimes you can't avoid a fight? If you had just chased that Romulan ship from the get-go and taken it out, maybe none of this would have happened.”

Pike: "You're a good captain, Jim Kirk. Enterprise would be lucky to have you."

This is followed by Pike's "tell me about yourself" impromptu interview session with Jim, plus him researching Jim when he returns to his own timeline. I think it is the first time that Pike has encountered someone that he would actually trust with the life of his crew and would feel confident passing the torch to when the time came. It hammers home the concept that Kirk is eventually destined to take the baton from Pike and take care of his crew with that same love, protectiveness, rapport and enthusiasm. Jim piqued his interest, clearly; and Pike is now both convinced and assured that it is the correct destiny.

That also destroys me, knowing what is coming for Pike. I am so insanely attached and enamored by Mount's take on the character. I can't even talk about this man I'm getting choked up. Let's save that for another scroll, shall we? :D I just hope they don’t rush things, give us more time with Pike as Captain, and possibly let us explore a little more of that lesser known serious “stack of book with legs” early Jim Kirk. In my delulu fantasy I’d also love for Pike to seek Kirk as a commission, bringing him aboard the enterprise to help mentor and guide him. It would make sense, if Pike had a hand in mentoring Kirk, considering how very much alike they are in their command style. I think they would get along swimmingly. (And maybe ride horsies because they both love to. OK I’ll seriously stop now.)

Anyway, thanks so much for reaching out and sorry it took so long for me to print the bible out here! I love hearing from you guys and talking with you, so thanks for the opportunity to chat and spill some Trek tea! Fingers crossed for the return of nerdy!Kirk in S2.

Take care and LLAP! 🖖

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comfy-whumpee · 1 year

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I would give my firstborn child to see Jax testifying against Savvie

Finally coming for Anon's firstborn, sorry for the wait. Also sorry about any weird formatting, tumblr forced me to use the new editor and it's shite. As always, written with the help of Savvie's writer @ashintheairlikesnow

CN: implied noncon, emotional and physical abuse, medical malpractice, broken bones, victim blaming.

@bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektricwhumpktric-whump, @that-one-thespianan, @raigash, @burtlederp, @rosesareviolentlyreadread, @eatyourdamnpears

THE CLERK: Thank you, sir. You may be seated. Please lean forward into the mic and keep your voice up, for the record. Can you state your name and spell your last name for me, please?

THE WITNESS: Jackson Gallagher. G-A-L-L-A-G-H-E-R.

THE CLERK: Thank you.

"She tried to get that corrected," he mutters. "They told her to shut up."

BY MR ROOKS:

Q. Good morning, Mr Marcoset.

"See? She told him to do that."

MX. WHITE: Could the witness be referred to by his legal name, please?

THE COURT: Yes. The witness will be referred to as Mr Gallagher.

BY MR ROOKS:

Q. Good morning, Mr Gallagher.

A. Good morning.

“Took him a while to get to the point, that day. And it was a stupid point. Delay tactic.

Q. Mr Gallagher, is it true that you were alone in Mrs Marcoset’s home on multiple occasions when she went out?

A. Yes.

Q. Is it true that you were not told what she was doing on those trips?

A. Yes.

Q. Is it true that you spent periods of time in a separate part of the house to her, unaware of what she was doing?

A. She locked me in the basement sometimes, yes.

Q. Even that aside, Mr Gallagher, is it true that you cannot be sure of what she was doing at all times?

A. Yes.

“See. Load of crap just to get to the point.”

Q. In that time, is it possible she could have met with other man?

A. I guess. Yes.

Q. And did these trips continue throughout 20XX, before Mrs Marcoset announced her pregnancy?

A. –Yes.

Q. Can you be certain, Mr Gallagher, that you are the father of her children?

A. I’m certain. You can ask her yourself.

“She was so fucking offended. But she knew why it was done. They ordered the paternity tests after that, and that was another fucking week gone.”

BY MX WHITE:

Q. Good morning, Mr Gallagher.

A. Good morning.

Q. How was your arm broken?

A. It was a few months before she – Savvie – said she was pregnant with Isabella. I was taken to visit her uncle, Isaac Marcoset. He asked her to bring me, she said. When we arrived I was taken to a room, with the people he called staff all lined up inside.

Q. For clarity, Mr Gallagher, what do you mean by ‘the people he called staff’?

A. I met a lot of people who worked in the house. They were called staff, but I never saw them being paid or leaving the property, and some of them said they were born there.

Q. Thank you, Mr Gallagher. Please continue. What happened when you were brought before the staff?

A. Isaac took my arm in both hands and broke it. I hadn’t seen him in a while, I didn’t know what it was about. I gave him lip, of course – the others all looked scared and I wanted to make them feel better. It hurt a lot. But I told him he wasn’t so big and scary. He pushed me into the wall for that and yanked on my arm till it came out the shoulder.

Q. Were you given medical treatment?

A. Yeah, Stewart set my shoulder.

Q. By Stewart, are you referring to the Box Boy owned by Isaac Marcoset, designated Fifteen?

A. Well, yeah, but can I call him Stewart? He was only ever called the steward when I was there, but I thought I should call him by a real name. I’ve been a number before and it’s important, having your name. He liked it.

Q. I understand. Let the record show that ‘Stewart’ refers to Fifteen.

MR ROOKS: Could the Box Boy be referred to with his legal name, please? As we have settled the matter of using legal or chosen names in the court.

“That pissed me off. But the lawyer told me later it probably backfired ‘cause I never managed it on the first try. Stewart is Stewart. Made me look like a good guy, to humanise him like that.”

BY MX WHITE:

Q. Did you receive any other treatment?

A. They took me to a doctor who knew about me being a captive. He cast the arm and gave me painkillers.

Q. Did he give the painkillers to you directly?

A. No, actually. He gave them to Savvie.

Q. Describe your access to pain relief through your recovery period.

A. It was – erratic. Savvie controlled when I ate and slept, and she took over that too. She didn’t let me touch them. I was told to stay in the bed, her bed in her bedroom, and she would bring them over when the alarm went off. But most times she’d say I had to kiss her first, or ask if I really wanted them, before she let me have them. Or she’d forget. I’d remind her if she was there, but if she wasn’t, there was nothing I could do. A few times she’d be in a bad mood and say she was too upset to get them, or I’d get them if I apologised to her. One time I remember, she turned off the alarm. I could see the sun and I knew it was time. But when I asked her, she said it wasn’t time yet. She asked if it hurt, and then she told me I had to lift it see if it could go higher than yesterday.

Q. Who took over your household work during that time?

A. Hannah. She’d come by a few times a week and work on cleaning the whole house, same as I had to. I spoke to her a bit. She had a collar, same as me.

Q. How did Ms Marcoset react?

A. She was furious. The first time I met Hannah, she was out. When she came home she grabbed my arm, the broken arm, and squeezed it as hard as she could. She said I wasn’t like the others, I wasn’t staff. Because she loved me. I told her she was hurting me, the pain was – I can’t describe it. Really f- really bad.

Q. Did Ms Marcoset realise she was hurting you?

A. Yes. You could see it in her eyes. They went wide, and – and her breathing picked up, like she was excited. When I said she was hurting me, she said she knew. I asked her why. She said – because I can. Because I want to.

“God, Jax.”

“…Yeah.”

Q. Did she release you?

A. Eventually. She made me wait. I thought I was going to be sick, or pass out. I couldn’t breathe right. She just told me to look at her. She said, she said I should be able to hurt a, a little. For her. I had, she left nail tracks on my arm. It was out of the cast, I don’t think I said. She dug her nails in so hard I had lines of blood. Those ones didn’t scar. I have a lot on my back, from her, but – a lot of nail scratches on my back. They weren’t the only ones.

“It gets worse.”

BY MR ROOKS:

Q. You told the court that you were treated by a doctor, Mr Gallagher. Are you referring to Dr Russell Leppelman?

A. Yes, I think that’s him.

Q. Is it true you were taken to him by Mrs Marcoset for that treatment, immediately after you were injured by Isaac Marcoset?

A. Yes. Stewart, uh, Fifteen told her to.

Q. Is it true that Dr Leppelman provided you with a cast, painkillers and a treatment plan?

A. Well he refused at first. He called me a pet. But—

Q. Did he treat you?

A. He did, yes.

Q. Is it true that he treated you in private, away from Mrs Marcoset?

A. Yes.

Q. Did he ask whether you had any allergies?

A. Yes.

Q. Did he perform a wellbeing check?

A. What does that mean?

Q. Did he ask after your personal safety and mental health?

A. Yes.

Q. Did he act unprofessional towards you in any way?

A. Not in the treatment.

Q. So you were separated from Mrs Marcoset, alone, with a healthcare professional who was attending to your wellbeing and health, but you did not ask him to help you escape the captivity you claimed?

A. I did, actually.

“She didn’t know about that bit. Figured they’d ask it, they asked it about every time I admitted to meeting another fucking soul.”

A. I told him I was a slave, and he said I should call myself lucky I wasn’t treated like the others. He said I was a pet. He said he played golf with Isaac and none of his people dressed as nice as the clothes I had on. I asked if I got patient confidence and he said yes, unless I was rude, basically.

Q. So you had patient confidence, and you asked him for help?

A. I asked him if he would help me and he said he wouldn’t.

Q. He invited you to share what you wanted in patient confidence, is that true?

A. Yes, true enough. I asked if she was on birth control because I was worried about kids. That surprised him. He said she wouldn’t keep her kids as slaves.

Q. Did he provide you with that information?

A. He told me she was. I asked if he knew about the other slaves, the staff. He said he knew. But he said she wouldn’t hurt her own kids.

Q. Why do you consider that an unreasonable belief?

A. He knew her. He said, what did you expect from a Marcoset? He knew her dad and her uncle, he knew about the staff and that some of them were blood relatives.

Q. That has not been proven. Did you actually ask him for help escaping captivity?

A. I did. I could see he didn’t like the idea of her having kids. He knew that would be bad. So I said, if eventually she goes off birth control, and there are kids now, would he help? He told me not to worry about it.

Q. Is it true that he did offer to help, although he believed it would not happen?

A. Not really. He said I was playing for pity. He said I should be good and, lie back, and think of England, and put up with it. He said I should try harder to make her happy with me. He said, specifically said, he wouldn’t tell anyone about me.

Q. Dr Leppelman said he would help, in the situation you imagined, if he believed the children would benefit from his intervention. Is that true?

A. Yes. But—

Q. So did you ask for help escaping from captivity for yourself?

A. No, because he told me before that point that he wouldn’t. He also hit me. Twice.

Q. Is it true that he explained his family was under threat?

A. He mentioned it. He said I wasn’t worth it.

Q. Do you consider it unreasonable for him to prioritise his family over a stranger?

A. Not me. But he knew about the child slaves. He should have at least done something for those kids.

Q. But is it true that you did not ask for help for your own sake, Mr Gallagher?

A. Yeah.

Q: Thank you.

“There you go. One page out of a fuckin’ hundred. Do you get the picture?”

Kieran set the transcript down. “Thank you for sharing that with me, love. I don’t think that was easy for you.”

“Nah. But it’s been…bloody hell. Ten years. You never looked it up even once. You of all people should get to know.”

Jax finally stops pacing, settling down on the sofa next to his partner. Kieran holds still, letting him lean close.

“Izzy’s probably read it all five times over, anyway,” Jax adds, and Kieran surprises himself by being able to smile.

#jax #whump #epistolary whump #my fic #broken bones #kieran #implied noncon #victim blaming #court case #court whump? idk anyway it's how ash got her start so it's tradition

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