#cold calls (war music continued)

[b0xerdancer-writes]

Our Little Secret

Eris x Azriel's Twin! Reader

Summary: Azriel and his sister have always been opposites, she weaved light he bent shadows, he liked the dark and cold, she lived for warmth and light. That led her to Eris Vanserra. The two began secret but not so secret meetups that eventually blossoms into more.

Warnings: 18+, implied semi-graphic smut but not full scenes, attempted murder, injuries, blood, war, death, pregnancy, depression and self-doubt.

Word Count: 8,995

Notes: Shorter but sweet hope everyone enjoys some soft Eris!

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There were several pros and cons to being Eris’s mate and Azriel’s twin sister.

Pros included the ability to claim visits to Autumn as part of my spy job now that we were in an alliance with them as Eris began ascending the throne and needed assistance in weeding out the vermin that had invaded his fathers court. 

Cons included that my brother absolutely hated the male, so any interactions we had were either secret or strictly professional in nature with others like my family around us. 

However when the tides had turned after a rather eventful week tucked away in the halls of The Forest House, after an advisor had hired an assassin to try and take out Eris, neither Eris or I were prepared for the aftermath.

My brother was able to bend the shadows to his whim, he had always shrunk into the shadows and found peace in them after our half brothers had burned his hands. I however, was the opposite. My brothers and father had clipped my wings from birth, I would and have never known the call of the wind. Where my brother found comfort in the shadows I found my comfort in those small warm rays of light that would peek into our basement cell from the small barred window  we were too short to reach. My brother had learned to weave the shadows to his whim, I had done the opposite and learned to weave the light to mine. 

Where my brother hated and despised the now High Lord of the Autumn Court, I had come to love and cherish him. Especially when our spontaneous meetings became a regularly scheduled secret. 

Eris and I had started at a dance, his piercing eyes had found mine as I stood on the dias with my brothers; he had approached with an eerily attractive atmosphere around him as he stalked up to me, he stood a step below me as he bowed and offered his hand out for a dance. Together we had taken the ball by storm all the onlookers had been mesmerized by the passion and fierceness in which Eris and I brought forward, we had both intrigued the other from the second we both came to an abrupt stop with the end of the pounding, loud, and energetic music and our chests were heaving as we panted trying to catch our breath. 

That night had ignited something between us because later that same night he had sought me with the intention of making small chat to get closer, he had approached me with a champagne flute but by the end of it we had defected from the rest of the party and found ourselves rutting against each other in an empty conference room. That would be the first of many times we would end up hidden away in a backroom slotted against each other, just happy to have someone who’s passion matched our own. 

It had simply become a normal thing for us, every high lords meeting and every alliance talk, we would wind up in each other without fail. As meetings continued his mask began to fall away and after we had both come undone and beads of sweat had started to form between us he would confess his fears or the things that had troubled him, a recent beating from Beron here or nerves from the threat of war looming over our heads. 

When the war did come to a head, I had been using light to mask parts of our armies, rendering them invisible to Hybern and his own army; we ultimately prevailed but not without our own amount of casualties, Eris had come rushing towards the medical tents Beron tossed over the hind quarters of his horse. I had been sitting with Azriel and the rest of the inner circle, a healer stitching a spot on my arm where a sword had gone  a little too deep for me to be comfortable with and wasn't healing quick enough for the healers to be comfortable with, when we heard the commotion. I could hear Eris screaming and the second the nurse cut the thread from my arm I was out of the tent, Eris was soaked in blood and trying to pull Beron off the back of his horse; I could hear the grief in his voice as much as the panic was obvious on his face, I helped Eris pull him down and a healer met us halfway to the tent.  Just as Beron and the healer made it through the curtain Eris had dropped to his knees, adrenaline finally wearing off, he started crying so I dropped to my knees beside him and pulled him tight against me. 

Once his sobs started to garner attention I motioned for him to stand and ushered him out of the way of the crowds into my tent. I pulled him into my chest, running my fingers through his hair while his sobs became hoarse and weak; the metallic smell of his father’s blood clung to him and I slowly stripped him from the stained garments, I grabbed the cloth that was draped over the edge of the small bowl filled with water for washing sat and began cleaning where the smears of blood lingered on his skin. As I dabbed at the blood his sniffling stopped and he stared down at where I kneeled to sponge at a spot on his hip, I looked up at him with a sad smile and his head dropped to let his hair curtain his face.

With one hand tucked into my hair he pulled me tight against his thigh and muttered a small barely audible “Thank you.” 

Once I had finished cleaning him he sat on the edge of my bed, a small swirl of light nudged at his hands and he smiled as he let it caress him like how one of his hounds would have, as I was slipping out of my own blood stained clothing one of my light beams presented me with clothing from Eris’s own tent.  He took them from the small beam with a smile and slipped on the comfortable night clothing, I slipped into my own comfortable sleeping clothes and climbed onto the bed beside him. He buried himself into my chest and curled around me, I wrapped one wing over the top of us and we laid there for a few minutes before he gave out a shaky breath. He began to tell me how he had found Beron and he fully believed it was his fault the older male had been injured, Eris had left his position in the Autumn Court squadron to meet with Helion and the rest of us on the opposite side of the battlefield, leaving Beron exposed. Apparently somehow Beron and his brothers had been ambushed, the rest of his remaining brothers were dead but Beron was unconscious and breathing; as he moved to check Beron’s wounds he had realized the older male was beginning to bleed out and hauled him up to the horse, someone managing to get him on the beast. 

I soothed him, telling him it wasn’t his fault, that the mother had a sick sense of karma; and that was all this was, karma, for his actions towards Eris and his family. We fell asleep an hour or so later, Eris’s soft snores lulling me into my own sleep. It was around midnight when I felt the bed shift, the smell in my tent stung my nose: a sharp Cinnamon and smoke mixed with a spice that reminded me of the autumn court alcohol Eris had given me after one of our usual meetups. It was Eris’s comforting scent amplified a hundred times over, it was only when my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw Eris sat up elbows on his knees and hunched over that I realized the stinging was caused by a surplus of magic in the air.

“He’s dead” Was all Eris mumbled as he looked back over his shoulder at me.

Only then did I get a good look at him, his ears seemed more pointed, his eyes more predatorial and enticing, every detail about him that I had noticed before was amplified; from the red of his hair to the freckles that littered the bridge of his nose, I felt myself fall more in love with him with every detail I took in. 

“Don’t look at me like that starlight.” A low growl from his voice had goosebumps growing over my skin and every hair standing on end all at the same time.

I couldn't even mumble an apology to the newly made high lord before his eyes widened and his scent thickened with the added addition of his arousal. In a split second he had pounced on me, his lips finding their home on my neck. We spent the rest of the night lost in eachother, he was clearly rougher and more feral with the newly found energy and stamina that had come with becoming a high lord. 

Our bond had only grown from there, after the war was over he had asked Rhys for help in discovering which of those in his court wanted his downfall or were members of the illegal markets his father had let the Autumn Court become home to. The Autumn Court was bright at all times of the day, between the actual sun in the day and the fireflies and bonfires that lit up the night, I had been sent to act as Emissary and spy.  It had started as miniscule tasks like tracking down and destroying supply carts carrying black market goods or stalking through the castle under my invisible illusion to listen in on private conversations that could have been conspiratorial in nature. It was one of these overheard conversations that sent me rushing to Eris’s room, heart pounding so rapidly I felt it in the back of my throat.

It was late in the evening, Eris would have retired from the throne room or his study and would have been in his private chambers getting ready to wind down for the night, I slipped from the perch where I had heard the alarming news and found the faintest crack of light under Eris’s door; the faintest amount I needed leaked from the door as the lights in the hall began to dim, much like how my brother used the shadows to transport him around I used the light to step silently into Eris’s chambers. The fireplace, the thing illuminating the room so brightly, crackled softly and I took the faintest step forward towards Eris.

He turned quickly, dressed only in a pair of loose trousers with his hair half up and cascading over his shoulders; he had grown it out since becoming high lord. “Starlight? What's wrong, why do you look so panicked? What did you hear?”

“Eris! You have got to be wary! I heard two of the advisors conspiring together to assassinate you! They spoke not of when it was planned but it is coming!”  I took a few steps towards him reaching out to grasp at his upper arm, an attempt to convey my desperation to him.

“Thank you Starlight, but remember they know not of your spying capabilities, I have no evidence against them yet. We will have to wait for the assassin before we can condemn those males.” He ran one hand across my cheek, pulling me tightly to him with a dark longing in his eyes.

“Eris I-“ he cut me off before I could continue, his eyes sparkled with that same dark look.

“Look Starlight, I can handle myself but if it would please you and make you feel better about the situation then stay beside me tonight, watch over and protect me darling.” His voice was a soothing melody in my ears, lulling me into a false sense of security with the ever present weight of the assassin hanging above us.

“Please…” I mumbled and buried my head in his chest.

“Of course starlight” he mumbled into my head as he planted a small kiss into my hair.

He curled up in bed and I curled up on the loveseat tucked into the corner of the room with my illusion dusted over me; thankfully the night was uneventful and in the early hours I climbed into the bed beside Eris who wrapped his arm around me in a groggy fog.

After a week the threat had yet to be seen and Eris’s schedule had seemed to become busier, leaving him rarely alone with anyone or even by himself until the very end of the day.  My duties as emissary had been paused by Eris himself as he noticed I had become overly exhausted and was becoming increasingly sicker as the days continued, I had fallen asleep in meetings or even had to dismiss myself from some of them due to nausea. 

“Until you are cleared by my appointed healer,” Eris had firmly told me, “I’ll be pausing your duties as emissary here.”

I had grumbled but agreed to schedule an appointment with the healer that afternoon to appease him and be allowed to continue with my job. The halls were quiet in the staff wing, most of the servants would be spread out across the rest of the manor at this time, preparing for dinner or guest rooms, or just general cleaning. I knocked softly on the healers office door, a greeting ushered me in from the other side.

Inside was a young eccentric male that reminded me of Helion in a way, he ushered me to sit in a padded seat across from him. Eris had written to him with his concerns about my health and the male asked me if I had any concerns of my own. I just agreed to what Eris had identified with a grumble and he moved on with the exam.

“How long has this been occurring?” The male's hands glowed a faint green as he ran his hands around my body several inches above my skin.

“It’s progressed since the Last night of the war, at first I just assumed it was an after effect of the fae bane exposure.” I was uncomfortable with the males' closeness to me and shifted in my seat.

He nodded and continued his examination, it was rather uneventful as he checked through multiple things. 

“Its a long shot but there's one more thing I’d like to check if thats okay?” He asked me with a shrug.

“Yeah why not, that way Eris will be satisfied and I can get back to my duties” I shrugged back at him.

His hands changed from that green glow to a pink glow and his eyes widened, a smile grew on his face. “Congratulations. It seems like my long shot guess was correct.”

He turned from me and back to a small pad of parchment and scribbled a few things down on it before handing it to me, my fave paled as I read the care plan ahead of me.

“I’d like to schedule a week from now to follow up with everything, you will still be in this court correct?” I nodded and he scribbled on another piece of parchment. “Then I'll see you at the same time in a week!” He handed me the second parchment with the next appointment scheduled on it.

The walk back to my chambers had begun as quiet,  the setting sun outside the windows a tell of the hours spent in the healers office. The parchment folded up in my pocket a heavy weight as I thought how to tell Eris the news; lost in my thoughts I had taken a wrong turn and ended up in Eris’s private wing, an indication of where my mind was at and whose company it sought out for my distress, except something felt off in the wing as I was several halls from Eris’s room but a foreign sour scent lingered at the edges of the air. Had I not been a trained spy the change in scent wouldn’t have alarmed me but I knew Eris’s scent too well, knew how it both soured when he was upset and how it could be a breath of fresh air when he was in a happy mood, and I knew when someone was trying to hide their scent. 

I felt the muscles in my back around the deep scars twitch like they never had before, like I had watched them do when my brother's wings flared. An unease screamed at me and that familiar sense of dread rose in my throat, I tried to swallow it back but a loud shattering noise sent me down the hall at a full sprint. The halls were dark and I was unable to Lightstep into Eris’s room, I rounded a corner to find the door to his room cracked open and I threw it open to find Eris fighting off a bane laced dagger from his throat. My intrusion on their fight was enough of a distraction to gove Eris a one up by shoving the dagger away and throwing the unidentified male off of him, the make retailiated just as quickly sinking the dagger into Eris’s side as borh were scrambling up from the floor. I screamed as I watched Eris howl in pain and collapse on the floor, the intruding male moved towards the windows; there was enough light in the room for me to lightstep right behind him and sink the twin sister dagger of Truthteller into his neck, the adrenaline in my system was enough for me to decapitate the male. I didnt care if it would have looked better to bring him to the dungeons, I had overheard that conversation and knew who had conspired against my Eris. 

Once the head hit the ground I turned to Eris who was holding the dagger and his side with shallow breaths, with blood pounding in my ears and tears beginning to well up I dropped to my knees to find him barely conscious.

I pulled his head into my lap and cried over him begging him to stay with me, his faint voice tried to soothe me but the crack in his voice was enough for me to realize I very well could lose him tonight. 

“You have to stay with me Eris, you have to! You cant leave me like this Eris! I need you!” I sobbed into his slowly rising and falling chest.

One of his hands found its way into my hair as a soothing gesture. “You’ll be okay Starlight.” 

It broke me even more and I shook my head, tears rapidly cascading down my face. “No! I wouldn't be! You can't leave me like this Eris! You aren't allowed to die here! I’m pregnant Eris! Do you hear me! You can’t die, you have to be here for me and the babe!”

I felt Eris stiffen, his grasp in my hair tightening. “Your-“ I nodded and he smiled softly but his breathing became even shallower. 

I felt his grasp loosen and drop from my hair, my head shot up only to watch his eyes roll back in his head. I screamed and called his name and when no response came I was hauling him into my arms. Drawing every ounce of power I could spare I folded and weaved the light around us while screaming for Rhys in my mind. He answered almost immediately and I let him see what had happened just as I felt the weave of light complete and I was reappearing in my home court, I was greeted by my brothers and Madja who ushered us into a room with a bed they had me lay him on. I was pulled out of the room into the living room by Rhys and Azriel, my twin wrapping his wings around me as I sobbed into his chest.

I had cried myself to sleep in Azriel’s arms but was awoken by a sudden wave of nausea that had me pulling myself away from him and into the kitchen  where I found myself expelling what lunch I managed to eat before the appointment earlier today. Azriel was behind me pulling my hair farther out of the way for me and he rubbed my back softly, a soothing gesture.

“You alright?” His voice was a quiet whisper as the house was in a quiet slumber except for the occasional noise of Madja doing something in Eris’s room.

I nodded and slid my hand into my pocket handing him the folded pieces of paper. He read over them as I rinsed my mouth out with water from the sink and spit it back out. 

“By the mother.” He cursed “You're pregnant?” He looked at me quizzically and I nodded toeing my hair into a half up bun in case another wave of nausea hit me. 

“Yeah.” I mumbled, throat hoarse.

“It's his isn't it?” A look of sadness and pity crossed his face, a sorrow deep in his eyes. I nodded again.

“How long?” He asked, his voice cracked.

“Me and Eris? Since the first ball we met. The babe? Conceived the night he became high lord. I started getting sick shortly after that.” My own voice cracked as I fought back tears.

“Does he know?” He sat the papers on the counter and extended an arm out to me, I placed my hand in his.

“I told him right before he passed out, I told him it was why he had to pull through.” A sob broke through my lips, and Azriel pulled me into him. 

I broke down sobbing into his chest, he wrapped his wings around us until Rhys clearing his throat broke through the air. Azriel pulled me back by the shoulders and wiped the tears from my face, Rhys shifted awkwardly on his feet in the doorway clearly having heard and seen our exchange. 

“We’ll talk about this later, okay Starlight?”  His voice was soft as I nodded.

We both turned to Rhys who joined our little circle, He took my hand in his as he spoke. “Madja managed to stitch up his wound and said he's stable but still unconscious while his body tries to heal itself, she managed to flush the bane out of his system but it weakened him enough his healing delayed and he lost a lot of blood. She doesn't know how long he will be out but you can go in there now with him if you want.” He pulled me into a tight hug  and I thanked him.

I slipped into the room where Madja was bottling up a few potions for Eris, she gave me a small smile and a nod. 

I rested one hand on her shoulder the other on my stomach and leaned back against the table she was working on. “Thank you Madja, for saving him for us.” 

She nodded her accent heavy as she spoke to me. “You care very deeply for him, it's a good quality to have to love that purely. Your brothers may not recognize why you care but they understand your emotions, It's why Rhys had no restraint in summoning me to work on the High Lord you care for.” 

I smiled at her. “Yeah, I'm not gonna lie to you Madja, I think he's my mate. He's always just had an allure that called me to him, since the first time we met we just clicked like a puzzle piece. When I saw him on the floor there, something so deep in my chest I didn't know it could exist screamed and throbbed with a red hot glowing pain. I think I’ve always just known we were mates, in my adrenaline and panic I think the bond finally snapped but I was too overwhelmed and worried to really process everything going on.”

She smiled and nodded at me. “A good bond doesn't need to ring true, like Rhysand told you he simply looked at Feyre and knew. You simply know what he is to you and that is fine, it doesn't have to be a grand realization.” 

“Thank you, Madja.” I gave her a soft smile and she pushed a small bottle into my hand.

I looked at her quizzically as she smirked. “For the nausea the babe causes.” 

A blush rapidly grew on my face and my eyes widened. “How did you?”

A sparkle glistened in her eyes, she had always been a grandmother to the entire inner circle. “Girl, i’ve been treating you since you and Azriel joined Rhys here, I know your scent and any good healer knows what a babe does to a female's scent.  It was entirely too easy to scent it on you for me, hopefully that helps with any and all nausea you have. Just one drop of the vial into any drink you have once a day, it's tasteless so it should mix well with anything.” 

“Thank you again Madja. Have a goodnight.” She smiled and nodded at me and slipped out the door. 

I turned my attention to the shirtless male in the bed, white bandages wrapped around the lower half of his torso and his breath was a steady rise and fall of his chest, no longer weak and shallow. He laid on his uninjured side with his loose bangs falling in his face, I leaned on the bed to move them out of the way when one of his hands tightened on my wrist and he mumbled something I couldn't make out; but I knew Eris he had done this many times when I’d return from the bathroom to crawl back into bed with him. I smiled softly and kicked off my boots then curled up beside him, he wrapped his arm  tightly around my waist while I played with the loose hairs that fell into his face.

A groan coming from Eris was what woke me up just as the light started peaking through the windows, he had tried to sit up and was clutching his side where the dagger had been.

“Woah! careful Eris I don't want you ripping any stitches.” I fussed over him till I was able to get him laying back down.

A sickly smile was on his face as he winced. “Morning Starlight.” 

I scowled at him. “Morning Starlight? That's it! You almost died, Eris! You absolute dork. I was worried, you know?”  

He smiled at me, still relatively pale and weak as his body used the energy to slowly repair itself. “What you said before I passed out… Is it true?” 

I nodded and his hand found mine. “Are you mad?”

His voice cracked. “Darling, why would I be mad?” 

I sighed and made my way over to the table where Madja had left a few bandages and busied myself with collecting what I would need to change his bandages. “I just figured since you originally said you didn’t care for children.” 

“Darling, come here.” He called for me with his hand outstretched. 

I rounded the bed carrying the small collection of medical supplies and set them on the end table. I looked up at him through my lashes and began to slowly undo the wrap around his torso, he winced as we got to the lower bandages that stuck to the edges of the wound where blood was crusted to the cotton.

He winced as I dabbed on some anti infection and pain cream Madja had whipped up. “Darling.” His voice was a bit firmer.

I looked up from the gnarly bruising purple and red wound held closed by black thread and found his eyes, tears welling up in my own eyes as he spoke to me. “Darling I’m not mad. I wish I could get up from this damn bed to hold you and show you what this means to me.” 

I smiled at him before I turned my attention back to the wound, the edges had started to seal back together nicely, a faint red scar slowly beginning to emerge was an indicator it would heal nicely. 

I began rewrapping the cotton bandages around him as I spoke. “We have plenty of time to make up for it now then.” 

I tucked in the cotton and helped him sit up slowly. He grimaced as he spoke, adjusting to the strain in his body. “Thank you Starlight.  Because of you I had a reason to keep fighting. I said that I didn’t care for children back then because I was scared I would end up too much like my own father, but because of you I know I won’t,” he laughed softly “You wouldn’t let me. If you have helped me realize anything, it is that everything I do to better myself and my court is only possible thanks to you and how you believed in me. The thought of doing it all for you has helped me through every time I doubted myself.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked into his amber ones. “Eris…” 

He gave me a smile that was mixed with a wince as he tried to pull me into his arms and lap. “Don’t worry Starlight, I'm not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 

I let out a small laugh as I buried my head in the crook of his neck. “…For both of you…” he added. 

“I’m sure you will be an amazing father Eris.” I yawned and curled up closer to him.

I awoke to a wave of nausea, excusing myself from Eris’s arms saying I would bring him some food as we and slipped into the kitchen, the little vial in my hands. I stirred a drop into a warm cup of tea and sipped on it for a few seconds till the nausea dissolved and I was able to actually drink the warm concoction, I reached for a plate in the cabinet and put a couple of warm pastries the house had made for breakfast on it; another cup of tea ,which I had stirred some honey into, for Eris in my other and started my trek back to his room. 

I felt Rhys’s talons knock on my mental shield and I let him in with a tired “Good Morning.”

“Morning! How's he doing?” Rhys called back to me.

“Sore but awake.” I answered by showing him the imagery of the wound in my mind.

I felt his grimace as he replied back to me. “I’ll send Madja up in a bit then.”

“Thank you Rhys.” I motioned back to him.

I felt him slip from my mind with a “No problem sister.” 

As I neared the room I heard talking coming from inside of Eris’s room, the door was cracked and I could see Azriel glaring down at Eris before he cracked a smile and patted Eris’s shoulder. 

“Look I know we have had our disagreements Eris but I want to be a good male here, for my sisters sake not yours, you make her happy and as long as you are trying to be a good male for her and are going to step up and be a good male for the child you two made then I have no qualms with you. Deal?” He sighed and extended his hand out to Eris to shake.

Eris winced and met Azriel halfway, shaking his hand. “Deal. I plan to be your brother in law anyways.” 

I had to stop myself from choking on air, as I pushed the door open slowly acting like I hadn't just overheard their entire  conversation. “Alright I’m back and I brought croissants and a warmed honeyed tea with me.”

I turned to look at Azriel, faming my surprise to see him, he raised a brow ar me before nodding and moving to help me carry the plates. “Sorry, I was just coming to check how everything was going on in here, I sent some of my spies out to do a sweep of your court in case any other assassins or conspirators were in place.”

I perked up as he said that sitting the plate of croissants on Eris’s lap. “I can get you a list of those who have given me reason to believe they mean ill intents towards Eris or the Autumn Court in general.”

“That would be helpful.” Azriel nodded, “no rush though, I don’t wanna cause you or Eris any undue stress.”

“I’ll write it down here in a bit when we settle in for the day.” I handed the cup to Eris as he took a sip from it.

Azriel gave me a soft smile and a nod as he slipped from the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Eris nibbled at the pastry in his lap and I fixed myself up a spot in a padded chair at his bedside, making the list for my brother. Eventually Eris finished his breakfast and I sat the plate on his end table, he gently pulled me into his lap and tucked me into his uninjured side.

“We have lots to talk about Starlight.” He crooned at me. “Like what name ideas you've had so far for our little flame.”

I sighed softly nuzzling into his warmth. “I haven’t really thought about it, other things have been on my mind.”

“Like what Starlight?” He mused.

“Like what this means for us?” I chirped back at him, thinking of the earlier conversation I listened in on.

“And what do you want for us Starlight?” He inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

I hummed back at him. “I'd like to be an us.”

He hummed back at me, mimicking my own. “And what kind of an us would you like to be?”

I smacked his shoulder softly. “. I dunno, something more than what we are right now? Something official? Married? Mates? I don't know, just something more.”

He snorted trying to play off his panic that he may have been planning the same thing. “A bit forward with the marriage part there huh Star-“ he paused and looked over at me quickly, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Wait. Did you say mates?”

I swallowed and nodded shallowly. “Yeah.”

His eyes sparkled brighter. “I was waiting for you to figure it out for yourself, when did you realize?”

I smiled at him adoringly. “I think I’ve always just known, honestly.”

He moved to cup my face in one of his hands. “I realized the night of the war that Beron died, when you were cleaning the blood off of me with such care.” He pulled me deep into a kiss and hummed. “I think I realized then because it showed how much you cared, you have always been the only person to ever care for me to such a  degree.”

I pressed my forehead to his,adjusting how I sat against him. “Then we have forever to look forward to.”

Eris groaned and tried to press another kiss to my lips but missed as I adjusted and his lips landed on my neck instead. “The second I can get out of this bed, we are accepting this bond.” 

I snorted and he pouted. “Any questions regarding what the healer said about the pregnancy?”

His eyes sparkled again like one of his hounds he favored when Eris would throw them a scarp at the dining table. “How far along are you then, love?”

“Probably about 2 and a half months, if my assumption of the conception date being the night you became High Lord.” I reasoned.

He raised a brow at me, his hand moving from my hip to rest on my stomach. “And why do you assume that night, we have slept together plenty of times.” 

I placed my hand on top of his and watched as his eyes dropped to our combined hands. “I assumed that originally because I started getting sick shortly after that, and my second assumption was the added hormonal boost of all that extra magic in the air. But! Now you have just backed up my assumption without even knowing it.”

“How?” He challenged.

“If it was also the night you realized I was your mate then your hormones and instincts were already heightened from the new magic in your veins and on the hormonal and instinctual boost from the mating bond and then boom!” I made a motion with my hands, “Your hormones and instincts were triple, maybe even quadruple what they were before.”

“Okay, yeah, that actually makes sense.” He mumbled.

Eventually Madja came back in later in the evening, she looked over Eris’s wounds and gave him the all clear as long as he took a few days of rest off. She said she would come by Autumn in a few weeks to connect with the healer there and to help monitor my pregnancy, she handed me a few extra vials of anti-nausea potions with a pat on my back and told me to take it easy myself since I had been stressed enough the day before to make up for several months. She applied a salve to Eris’s wound and placed a smaller bandage over it, since the risk of tearing it was less severe. I handed Azriel the list of possible conspirators and he took it with a nod, his spies would continue to investigate thoroughly since I was officially out of the spy commission. 

We returned to the Autumn Court where Eris held an emergency meeting for the entirety of the Forest House staff, he called me on stage with him and announced our mating bond, his intention to marry me, and the news of my pregnancy. As I looked over the crowd tucked nicely under Eris’s bad side to provide support I noticed several of my brother’s spies I had grown close to after working with them for so many years, it was bitter sweet seeing them there, knowing that after all these years they were here to watch over me the way I had watched over and trained all of  them with brother when we first joined Rhys’s inner court. Then Eris rolled his shoulders and cleared his voice, the atmosphere of the entire court changing with it. He growled out the names of the two traitors that had hired the hit man on him, two of my brother’s spies dragged them forward and they started begging and panicking as Eris told his court of their treachery.  Guards dragged them off to the dungeons and their own deaths were ordered by me as Eris gave me the opportunity to pick the punishment, I found it only fitting they be killed for their crimes as they tried to kill my mate. 

It was the first of many things Eris would have me decide for the court but we had other matters to handle first. We spent the rest of the week relaxing as the rest of his wound healed till all that was left was an angry red scar and by the end of the week the smallest bump had become visible along with the obvious scent change that let everyone know of my condition, it was barely noticeable but it was enough for Eris to be practically feral. When a craving for one of the Autumn Court’s signature desserts, a pumpkin bread loaf, hit me Eris had slaved away in the kitchens till he presented one he baked himself to me. The bond had been consummated,after everything had settled into place a week or two later we were married in front of his entire court and the rest of our friends and family; after our marriage ceremony he held a second ceremony making me his high lady.

Months passed by and my bump grew quickly, by the fourth month Madja had condemned me to general rest since she knew it would be impossible to keep me in bed but I was to be relaxing at all times, either laying down or sitting on either a bed or a padded couch. Between Madja and the male healer who I learned was named Nicoden’s constant checkups I learned they were mildly concerned with the speed in which the babe was growing, at first I argued with Madja it was probably due to wings from the Illyrian blood but she shot down my suggestion when she made the point Feyre wasn’t nearly as big with Nyx and he had wings. Eventually Nicoden made a suggestion about there being more than one babe, we had caught it too early to discern genders or numbers the first time I had seen him, he cited the fact Azriel and I were twins when Madja tried to disagree; it had come down to Nico and Madja putting money on it and both of them glaring at the other as they checked the babes, my answer came in the format of Madja digging into her pockets to smack a few notes into the males outstretched hand.

“Can we keep this between the three of us? I want to surprise Eris with the news.” I asked. 

They both agreed and Nico turned to me excitedly, “Do you want to know the gender of the babes yet?”

When I disagreed he got very smug, knowing something like that and being one of the only two to know.  “Anything I can do to help with the surprise?”

Madja kissed my forehead and helped me adjust how I was sitting so I could get a sip from a drink I had mixed my anti nausea medicine in. “Actually Nico, there is. Since I’m on rest could you run into the city for me and pick out a toy for each of the babes? Wrap them all in a box together and I’m sure he will catch the drift.” 

Nico was practically vibrating in his seat as he nodded excitedly, Madja congratulated me and dismissed herself to winnow home. Eris was in his last meeting of the day when Nicoden returned with the box and an eager smile on his face. 

‘Tell me how it goes.’ He mouthed.

I rolled my eyes and agreed, shooing him out of the room. I sat the box beside me on the padded chair and returned to my book while waiting for Eris to return to our room for the night.

It was about an hour later when my red-headed mate slinked into our room, exhaustion evident in his features. He had been swamped with meetings trying to get everything wrapped up with the investigations and getting the newly appointed ones adjusted to their roles before he would have to take a few weeks off with me when the babes arrived. 

He dragged himself over to me, kissing me softly. “Hello darling, I missed you.” he groaned as he sat on the sofa beside me and stretched out. 

“I have a surprise for you love.” I mused, closing my book and tossing it to the coffee table.”

“Oh? What’s that love?” He yawned.

“Here, open it, slowly now.” I handed him the delicate box.

He straightened how he was sitting, plopping the box into his lap and pulling two plush toys from the box: one a small fox and the other looked like one of his hounds. “Two toys? Is it for the babe?”

“Babes.” I corrected.

“Babes?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Babes.” I nodded.

“Babes!” He cheered

Tears welled in his eyes as he littered my face with kisses until he suddenly pulled back brows furrowed. “How did you get these? You didn't go into town did you?” 

I snorted at his protective nature. “No, I had Nicoden go and fetch them for me after we found out so I could surprise you.”

“Remind me to give him a bonus.” Eris growled out to me with a smile on his face as he pulled me into a sloppy kiss.

I took the toys from him and sat them softly back into the box, he pouted at me but cut himself off by yawning. “Alright Eris darling I do believe it is time for bed. We are all tired.” 

Eris stood motioning for me to wait and took  a few steps forward as he yawned, the fangs that grew when he became high lord flashing in the firelight. My eyes raked over his body as he began unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing it in the basket the laundress would take in the morning. 

He looked over at me with a feline-like grin on his face. “Do you want to change into anything love?”

I nodded and watched as he kicked the heeled shoes he wore into their place beside the door. “Can I get my  black nightgown? The silk one?” 

He nodded and stepped into the walk-in closet coming back out with my gown over his shoulder, he had changed into loose silk pants that matched said gown and tossed his slacks into the basket. 

“This one right?” He held it up for me to see and when I nodded he sat it on the foot of the bed.

He walked over to me , helping me slowly stand and he escorted me to the bed; I held onto one of the four posters as he helped me out of my daily wear and into the silk sleeping gown. When we were both satisfied with the level of comfy we were at, he helped me into the bed and under our covers; he rounded the bed to crawl into his own side, though he was quick to curl up around me with his hand on my stomach and he was out like a light the second I dismissed the faelights. 

The rest of the pregnancy was rather uneventful, but when the babes decided to come several days early they made up for the lack of excitement. Eris had been in a meeting with Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and the rest of the inner circle discussing heightening defenses for the babes ceremonies and the ball that would be hosted in their honor when they decided to come; while I was simply being helped up from my bed by Madja, who had made her home in the autumn court a week before the babes birth to be prepared for them, to go to the bathroom. I had stood and  only taken a couple of steps when my water had broken and Madja told me not to worry, summoning Nicoden who quickly prepared the room for the birth faster than I could blink. Madja had written to my mate and brothers, informing them of the upcoming labors and invited them to sit outside the room but due to the protective natures males got over their mates and spawn were not allowed inside till after everything was completed; Madja helped me into a birthing gown and into bed while Nico summoned the gaggle of top of the line healers he and Madja had picked, in total there was about 6 healers counting Madja and Nico in the room that evening.  It had been a rough labor due to tears and cuts from the wings on one of the babes; the smaller of the two ,a male, had a pair of wings equal to the size of his body and the talon of his wing had caught wrong on his way out and cut into me but thankfully my body healed it rather quickly. The blood made the labor seem worse than it was, after the first of the twins, a large wingless female, was out the rest was rather easy until the smaller twin’s wing caught. Madja was focused on me while Nico focused on the babes health, one nurse I remembered as Madja’s apprentice from Velaris was constantly monitoring my vitals, another was at my side dabbing my brow with a wet cloth, one was helping Nicoden with the babes and the final one was stood off to the side writing down whatever he was told too.  

Eventually both babes and myself had been cleared, Nico passed them both to me and they curled up right against my chest. Madja had all the nurses off to one side as she and Nico magiced the room clean, a talent I noted I would so have to learn soon.  Nico and Madja exchanged looks to each other before both nodded and Nicoden cracked the door open, stepping out to talk with my mate and family. When he came back in, Eris followed, peeking his head in, his eyes fell on me and the babes and I watched as they teared up; he took a few steps into the room softly shutting the door so it wouldn’t wake either sleeping babe and crawled onto the bed beside me. He sat very patiently beside me, his eyes sparkling with tears as he watched the two babes sleep and cling to their plush toys. The nurses, Nicoden, and Madja all dipped into the hall with my family to give us space. 

I nodded towards the babe on my left side where he sat”Your daughter, hold her Eris.” 

“My… daughter?” His voice cracked and I watched the tears start rolling down his face.

“Yep, she was the first born.” He looked up at me, the complete adoration in his features was the biggest indication of how he was feeling. 

“Oh! The mother has blessed us.” He mumbled and sniffled, looking back down at her.

He rocked her gently and she opened her eyes, his bright golden ambers, she cooed and giggled up at him. “Well hello there.” He cooed right back at her, booping her little nose with his finger.

She grasped onto his finger and he looked up at me and looked like he was about to burst at the seams with tears. “Ohhhh Eris!” I mused at them softly.

“Seraphina? For her name?” He asked with a whimper.

“I like it, Seraphina she is then.” I smiled at him, he leaned in to give me a kiss. 

“What about your son Eris? Would you like to hold him too?” I asked softly, and he nodded swiftly.

He placed Seraphina back into my arms and took the tiny male from my arms, he fit perfectly in the palm of Eris’s hand and when Eris realized how small he was he broke into tears.

“He’s so tiny, love… He fits in my hand.”I could see the tears run down his cheeks as he held the tiny winged male close. 

“Eris, love, its okay.  Nothings wrong with him.” I cooed to him.

“He’s just so tiny… What if I hurt him?” he mumbled and sniffled.

“You would never Eris, I know that. You are a gentle and patient male, you can do this.” I mused, extending my free hand to his cheek.

He looked up at me, eyes sparkling with tears. “You name him, I named her.” 

I hummed considering a few options before I finally spoke. “Orius?” It's the name of one of the stars above Velaris.” 

He nodded softly “Orius and Seraphina, our babes, by the mother.” 

He held Orius close and sobbed, fully sobbed. “Eris love, what's wrong?”

“What if I can’t do this? What if I turn out just as bad as Beron? I can't do that to them, look at how precious they are!” His voice cracked as he confided in me.

“Eris,” I called to him softly, my voice barely above a whisper in the intimate setting. “ What did I say about your fear of becoming Beron?”

He hiccuped as he tried to suck in a breath. “That my fear of becoming Beron, is what will keep me from becoming Beron and will help me become a better father than he was?”

I smiled at him and yawned softly. “Exactly, I know you Eris Vanserra and I know you will be the best you can be for me and for them now too.”

I pulled him into a kiss and he managed to pull himself together just enough to thank me. “Think you can handle your family or are you too exhausted?” 

“I can handle them, if I get too tired I’ll just fall asleep with them here.  They can’t blame me.” I joked and he snorted.

He waved his hand towards the door and snapped, it swung open softly on its hinges and I watched as everyone realized they were invited in. Azriel was the first through the door and the first to my side, the rest of the circle lounged in various seats around the room. Nyx had gone with Madja and Nico so his mother and father could meet the newest editions, but he was still a babe himself so he simply slept in the older female's arms while they made their way back to Nicoden’s office. 

I passed off Seraphina to Azriel, his eyes welling up as he looked her over. She was bright eyed and curious, cooing away at him.

“Meet your niece Az.” I yawned and Eris moved up the bed to sit against the propped up pillows with me. 

“Well hello there mam.” Azriel whispered at the small female who shook her little fist at him.

I yawned and nuzzled into Eris, I fell asleep rather quickly exhausted from the birth but now comfortable enough with my family around to relax. Everything was going to be okay, I had Eris and we had our Seraphina and Orius. Eris’s spiced cinnamon scent was like a lullaby as I drifted off into dreamland imagining what our future would look like from here on out. No matter what the pros and cons ended up being, I was happy they resolved the way they did, everyone together celebrating.

Taglist: @minaethrym, @melsunshine

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction

[simpingland]

Hey love, I had an idea for a Aemond x reader piece; I hope the topic is fine with you because I would really love to see your spin on this one. Sooo what I had in mind is some angst lvl 9000 where during the war Aemond's wife finds out about him and Alys. She can't believe it because she thought what they had was true love and devotion but hey separation, Aemond is frustrated idk. His wife has always been very fiery and absolutely explodes and is devastated. Maybe in the meantime something bad happens to her (like losing a pregnancy or such) and that is the moment he has his wake up call. After surviving the Dance he comes home and tries to make everything better even is his wife is very cold to him and heartbroken. So maybe we get a tiny bit of fluff at the end :) Please do with this as you see fit, I leave this erratic idea in your talented hands ^^

To dance only with you//Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader.

TW: abortion stuff so that means there is blood. It's very angst but also fluff.

A/N: so, I had 2 request that were extremely similar so I mashed up both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even as a child, the tales and songs of maidens being well loved by valiant knights had made you gnash your teeth. Life had taught you early that this would never be true, and that men, even the best of them, ended up hurting all who fell under their protection. Nevertheless, none of your ideas, those that had provoked thousands of punishments in the library back then, were able to make you avoid your fate. And of course, as a lady of noble house, your fate was sealed to another great man, in this case Prince Aemond Targaryen.

A short dinner a few days before the wedding was all it took for you to fall in love with him. That long figure, with that face that reminded you of the moon. You liked his earnestness, because it made his hands feel warmer than any other man's.

"I've never seen a woman talk so much without saying anything," he told you the first time you crossed words. He was referring to that first look, where he could see your frown as you stepped out of the carriage.

"Some women are not cut out for marriage or the Septa."

"And what about being a prostitute?"

"That choice is unavoidable in any destiny, at least with marriage I only have to put up with one man."

That brought a smile to his face, though it took him a while to adjust to the early trust you built with him. After that dinner, you left him a kiss on the cheek without much thought, and on the way to your quarters you realised the liberty you had taken, and fell asleep red with embarrassment. But when you saw each other again, at the very ceremony of your wedding, Aemond did not seem offended when he placed his hands on your cheeks and seemed to ask your permission to kiss you. And it was you who pounced, and he who deepened the kiss. That evening, Aemond didn't seem to want to stay away from your side, and you could feel his gaze every time you turned to talk to your ladies-in-waiting. But even they wanted to disperse. The music was playing, and Aemond didn't speak, even though he was very attentive.

"I love this song..." you pointed out.

"It's a beautiful melody. They say it was composed by the troubadour of the Tarlys before the second war--"

And before he could continue with such a tiresome speech, you rose from your chair, shushing him, and took his hand to make him rise as well. And of course, the crowd left a step for you to comment and do what you wanted to do, dance.

And during that dance, you thought Aemond would resent you for interrupting him, but the orchestra filled you with joy and your feet moved on their own. And your now-husband accompanied you, brushing his hands with yours, and touching your waist in ways that made you giggle like a naive little girl. With the precious lamps lit, Aemond's colour was golden instead of silver, and his black clothes seemed more colourful. That night he showed you his nakedness when you showed him yours. And although it was hard to discover you, it was he who needed affection before taking off that patch. And when he did, you could only find him so much more special than you already considered him. You soon found in intimacy that Aemond could be a dominant man on the outside, but in your bedroom, he would surrender to your touch on his arm, and after lovemaking, nothing comforted him more than your lips on his sapphire eye. He liked to tear multiple garments when he wanted to undress you, and you would leave him in amusement, knowing that the next day he would give you a new and beautiful one. He liked to be a little rough at first, taking you fiercely, but he soon discovered that your calm pace made him enjoy his surroundings, your body, you, more. And you lived together for a while in a blurry but comfortable place, simple and comforting.

Then came the war. You were not surprised when the usurpation happened, Aemond had never hidden from you his desire to overtake the nephews who had so humiliated him. He had let you stay by his side when they returned, and you stayed awake to watch him fall asleep again once his anger had passed. He liked it when you lay on top of him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your head resting on the back of his neck. He would hold your hands resting under his chest. And you'd smell his hair as he talked and blurted out insults. And when he turned around he found you, and he knew it wasn't all bad.

"But I love you," you'd say. "And I want only you."

"I love you too, wife," he would reply.

The night after Luke's death you began to feel the cold that Aemond brought from Storm's End. You couldn't even touch him, with the news, the castle was in an uproar, and Aemond was everywhere but near you. And from a distance you could watch him suffer in silence while his brother enjoyed his cruelty. And worst of all, you heard the sad news from the lips of someone other than your husband. And such cruelty turned your stomach even more than it already was. Aemond could see you disappear from the room.

When the door knocked, you couldn't open it, your gaze fixed on the fire, and then he came in. Dejected, Aemond looked strange, divided.

"You have not enjoyed the feast."

"Enjoyed the feast?" you were horrified at the suggestion. "A feast in honour of a cruel slaughter?"

"He took my eye, and its very existence was an insult to the crown." He was trying to sound determined, and someone else would have heard it determined, but you knew better.

"He was a child, Aemond! And you've decided to trigger all this...we can never get out of this...we're cursed."

Something flared in Aemond, that his façade drooped for an instant, and his eyes never finished looking at you, while yours searched for him.

"I'm going to Harrenhal. There are already campaigns there," he replied dryly.

"Is that all you have to say to me? Will you go away and leave me here?"

"You'll be safer here." He began to walk back to the exit.

"I wouldn't need to hide to be safe if you hadn't killed your own nephew!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and finally looked you in the eye. Then it was as if you could enter his soul, like the dozens of times you could enter while you were making love.

"It was an accident," he whispered. "And I don't know what else to do."

And he walked away, leaving behind you and the baby he knew nothing about but was already with you.

What followed were days of unrest, with Helaena as silent as her children and that stress in the Keep. You had been granted to return home to be protected with your family, and they welcomed you with open arms. Your mother had let you sleep on her lap while you felt yourself becoming a mother every day. However, your restlessness about your husband and the war made you feel like a child. You were unable to bring a single tear to your eyes, engrossed in the thought that Aemond had been the one who had let you down.

"Men are not as strong as they make us believe," your mother told you. "Every day that passes is a day of war and death, and your belly grows bigger. He deserves to fight knowing he's going to be a father."

Although she wanted you to send a letter, that seemed little to you, because regret ate at you every time news came of the fallen in battle. You remembered Aemond's lovely voice telling you all the history of Valyria at dinner, or the laughter he gave you when you summarised your day every time you met.

You were given a horse without a flag and a simple cloak, making you look like just another peasant girl, accompanied only by an archer who served your family. Harrenhal was not far away and the journey was smooth due to your pregnancy. And at the encampments you only needed to show a medallion to cross. You were directed to the camp where your husband was resting. Already from outside you could hear strange noises, rustling and movement. And though a guard tried to prevent you from entering, he would never have touched a lady, so you were able to find Aemond as he was. And a woman on top of his legs. Dark-haired, attractive but noticeably more mature than Aemond, she didn't seem to be bothered by your presence. Aemond instead froze.

There was a moment that felt like long minutes where no one said anything, and only the strange woman insisted on filling Aemond's neck with kisses, but he pushed her away, getting up from the small bed. You turned with the intention of disappearing, but Aemond stood in front of you.

"Don't go," he begged.

"Clearly I am a bother."

Anger and confusion could override your sadness, but neither you nor Aemond could lie to yourselfs, you felt like sinking into the earth at such a sight. The woman was still lying quietly in bed. You gave her a look of disgust that she couldn't interpret.

"Go away, Alys," he said without looking at her. Then the woman, letting out a sigh, left. "I need to explain this to you..."

"How can you have such courage as to tell me that you 'need to explain' something I've seen with my own eyes?" it was screaming all that came out of you. "You take me for an imbecile in a thousand different ways!"

"I don't take you for a imbecil, don't you ever think that." He tried to wrap you in his hands, but you pushed him away, as much as you could push such a man like Aemond.

"I never want to see you again, ever. After everything you've put me through..."

"I've given you a princess's life, and I'm the one fighting the war." Now he sounded angry. And you didn't expect that, it was you who had found him humiliating you.

"A war that you started! I never wanted this life, I was just another girl forced to marry an ungrateful and foolish man like your mother and your sister."

They came from the darkest corner of your heart, from a corner that had never been used when you were with Aemond, and it didn't even feel right to say it, but it was the pain that spoke. And Aemond's body tensed up.

"If you can't stand me, maybe you should have been a prostitute." He remembered that first conversation with you, where you had been tormented but Aemond began to know you as you were. And the instant he said them he regretted it.

"Then you would have required my services, like that Alys. At least I would have felt desired."

The quiver of your chin made Aemond's heart break. And you fled, the cloak that covered you beginning to lift from the gathering storm. Aemond followed you without being able to say a word. His helplessness made him angry, and he thought he was angry with you. Only when you got on the horse did he see your belly, swollen and round. Then he was breathless and it was hard for him to notice the tears in your eyes. It was only when you rode away that he could react.

The storm broke as Aemond's horse began to trot beside you, and the rain blurred your vision. You did not want to see him, and you heard his calls in the distance. He begged you to stop, you heard the word 'child' but you were unable to understand anything, the image of that woman on him remained in your mind. You quickened your trot, reaching a gallop, and then you began to feel a growing pain in your stomach, but the rain, the thunder, the hostile place and the cries of your husband begged you to disappear. Only when your horse slipped did you have some rest, looking up at the sky, letting the rain ease the pain of the fall and confuse your blood with water. Before you fainted you heard your name on Aemond's lips, softer, closer, as when you were in your shared bedroom. Everything else was black.

When Aemond saw you get out of that carriage he never imagined that his future wife could please him even with her clothes on. But just by your expressions, he knew he had for himself a somewhat fierce and non-conformist woman, and he liked that. He also liked your confidence when you kissed him on the cheek at your first dinner. He lost his first fight for years when he was training with Ser Cristo, the reason: he couldn't think of anything else but that kiss. He imagined kissing you on the lips during the ceremony, and the days were long even though he was extremely busy. And when the wedding finally came, he could see you shy, beautiful but shy. And he didn't know how that first kiss felt to you until you asked him to dance. There at Harrenhal, Aemond had two images, the latent image of your dress moving through the air to the sound of music and the other, your body resting on his bed, breathing slowly but full of blood.

He had been the one who had picked you up from the ground and carried you in his arms back to the camp, but he had also been the one who had caused you to make that bumpy escape. Although you were still breathing, you did not react to any of his words and it was only when he laid you on his bed that he could see the blood on your skirt. The Maester did not take long to see you, and from between your robes he pulled out a red bundle that, had life been different, would have grown into a baby. It was Aemond who wrapped it in cloths and decided to wait until you awoke before doing it the honours of a Targaryen. Told to go and rest elsewhere, Aemond could not tear himself away from your bed that night. He felt sorry for the creature you may have had, but his pity was focused on you. He prayed all night to see you open your eyes again. He was there when you awoke and hid when the Maester gave you milk from the poppy.

"Where's my baby?" you asked, and Aemond shrank back into his hiding place.

"Princess, I fear we have lost him. But it was an accident and you may soon try for another..." the Maester was interrupted.

"But I don't want another baby, I want this one..." He watched as you tried to sit up, still in pain.

"Go back to bed, Princess, you're in no condition!"

"I want to go back to my home!"

The Maester had little strength to keep you in bed, and had no intention of pushing you, but when a twinge of pain hit you, Aemond came out of hiding to keep you from falling to the floor. You ignored who it was, still lost in milk and confusion.

"Aemond..." you whispered.

"I am here, my love."

"Our baby..."

"Is with the gods now."

Something in his voice made you cry so hard that even Aemond was frightened. He had never seen you cry before, and he himself felt so fragile in front of you. And worse was when you pushed him away roughly, remembering how it had really started. You sank back on the pillow and the Maester left, uncomfortable with the whole situation. Your husband sat on the bed and kept silent as you sobbed.

"Our baby is gone because of me," he said at last.

He felt you sit up now, your face streaked with tears, though now it was red and not pale. You kept your distance from him, and what Aemond wanted most of all was to feel you as close as you had that night at the dancefloor.

"It was I who fell off my horse..." your voice broke again. "I should have stayed where I was."

Then Aemond wanted to touch your face, as he was to do every day, but you slapped him away.

"I never thought it would break my heart so much to see another person cry."

Your look said everything you couldn't say. 'Then why are you making me cry?' It seemed to say.

"I've loved you ever since you gave me that kiss on the cheek. I love how complicated you are, but how simple things are around you. Ever since Storm's End I haven't been able to stop thinking about the possibility of losing you, and every time I imagine it I become useless, because I'm dead at the thought."

He looked at you without touching you, and your tears left you alone for a few minutes, so he had your attention.

"But I've missed you. And this separation I've forced...I thought it would hurt me more than it hurt you. I couldn't fight a war when my mind is only filled with your face, your words...and Alys showed up."

"And have you fallen in love with her?"

"No," he hastened to say. "She is a strange woman, and she pounced on me in such a way that I had no way out. You must understand, I beg you to understand, that the war is driving me mad. Alys's sad consolation was no more than that, consolation. I couldn't even kiss her. I feel that it makes me numb, and that I leave my body when I'm with her. And I don't like being in my body if you're not by my side".

That didn't seem to comfort you, and Aemond understood that. Perhaps he was making too many excuses when the main reason was simpler. He knelt in front of you, something he had never done before, and let himself be judged under your gaze.

"I have been stupid. And I haven't been able to think straight since I left our quarters to fly to Storm's End. I've put you in danger, and I don't think I'll ever be able to make up for all the damage I've done to you. For you are the best thing that ever happened to me and as my grandfather says, I don't know how I can be so blind having lost only one eye."

A tear finished falling down his cheek. Never before had Aemond lied to you, and never before had you seen him so vulnerable. He looked tired, remorseful, and besides, the baby you had lost was his too. But pity was one thing and forgiveness was another.

"Take me to my baby," you asked him.

With his help, you leaned on his arm, but you didn't hug him sideways like all those times you walked through the corridors. He walked with you every difficult step until you reached Vhagar. The dragon was restless, and when she recognised you she made a pitying noise, she could feel your sadness. Aemond was touched by the soft caress you gave Vhagar, and the Maester busied himself with placing the baby in your arms. There was nothing to be seen, but you kissed the cloth on which it rested and laid it on the pile they had prepared.

You returned to Aemond's side, unwilling to touch him, and waited for your nod to shout 'dracarys'. As the fire began to consume the small pyre, it was now Aemond who felt himself collapsing, unable to look. He covered his face with his hand and turned away from the image. His breathing became heavy and then he noticed your hands trying to slip between his. When he pulled his hands away from his face he could see you, his whole world. And like on your wedding day, he waited for permission to, this time, wrap you in his arms. And so you stayed for what some would declare was the entire morning. Your hands in his hair and on his shoulder, and his holding you around the waist.

"I don't want to be far away, Aemond" you whispered in his ear.

"I don't want you to be far" he replied, quickly kissing the part of your neck where he had sunk his head. "I love you. And I want only you."

Despite sharing that grief, the pain and the strange feeling of having lost more than just a future child, and that was losing your trust in Aemond. He tried to dissuade you to sleep with him, but only succeeded in getting you to sleep nearby, in a lonely campaign, far from his own. You could hear his footsteps approaching and stopping before the entry every now and then. He decided to respect you and let you heal on your own.

That Alys disappeared from the place, no soldier was able to tell you if she had been seen since that fateful day and you certainly never saw her again. But there were women from nearby villages helping to deliver food and supplies. Of different ages, some were happy to see another woman there, and often offered you company and told you about some of the men who bothered them or the concerns of the war. Women your age told you about their love affairs, blushing and excited, and you remembered Aemond. The younger ones were tender, and their curiosity made you want to be a mother immensely, and you remembered Aemond again. The older ones advised you about your loss, telling you that the best thing to do was to lean on someone who could share your grief, and then you thought of Aemond. You only saw him from the sidelines the few times you wandered around the place, and you always looked out to see him take off with Vhagar. On all those occasions he had sought your gaze. One night, one of the older, more gossipy women found out who this Alys was.

"She was strange to the core. She is a bastard and yet she has caused a negative sensation among all the men. She is known to like experimenting with weeds that confuse anyone but her. She only goes after men, because she blinds them. We always saw her for what she was. And we saw Prince Aemond, but he always kept his distance, or so we thought."

"I do not wish to speak of him at this time," she noted your sorrow, but before changing the subject, she hesitated to say more.

"She has been expelled from the Prince's camp a dozen times, my lady. And when she finally went in she came out quickly. The guards say the Prince seemed even colder and more serious after each encounter, and he was never affectionate with her."

"He told me he never even kissed her..."

"It is somewhat likely. Men are instinctive but they're even more impulsive."

That left you sleepless for a whole night. A mistake like that had been caused by his own lack of concentration, maybe even witchcraft and it certainly couldn't be compared to the mistake you made at Storm's End. But this time you let the days pass before you approached him, unlike last time. You wanted to keep a cool head.

One evening, before dinner, a girl peeked in to see you. She offered you a song in exchange for a coin. Of course, that price for that sweet gesture was more than fair, and you let her play a song on her humble flute. It was the same song you and Aemond had danced to at the wedding, and when she finished, your soul was so moved that it took you a moment to repay her.

"Who taught you that song?"

"The man with the stony eye" she confessed, and quickly left. As you peeked outside you could see her reaching for Aemond's tent, who was waiting to give her a second (or third) coin before letting her go. It was then that you connected eyes and she begged you with her eyes to forgive her again.

You reached to the tent, slowly. He saw you every step while you looked everywhere but him. In the moonlight that began to take over the sky, you looke so graceful. And he felt as if it took you ages to reach him. He wanted to speak the moment he had you right infront of his eyes. But you entered the tent only flickering briefly your eyes toward his. He followed you, and there he kissed you gently, and soon your lips brought him out of the enchantment that made him believe that Alys was comfort enough.

He had missed you, and his despair showed when you had to remind him that you were in no condition to have another pregnancy so soon. But he caressed you as only he knew how to do to give you that explosive sensation you had missed so much. And just listening to you, moanig and enjoing made Aemond feel completely satisfied. It was better than music. Soon you would try to start a family again, because that was Aemond's true dream. And soon you would succeed, but that night you didn't know it. It was a difficult page on your book, everyone had their hearts heavy. But even the instants that passed inside that camp made you realise how much at home you felt with him, and that all waiting for the good days with Aemond were going to be somehow nice. You rested on his chest, naked under the blanket and listening to the wind moving.

"I have never liked music too much," he suddenly confessed to you.

"And you agreed to dance on our wedding day?" You raised your head to look at him.

"That day was different."

"Why was that?

He smiled and stroked your face, running a finger along your eyebrows and lips.

"Because that day it was you who danced to its rhythm."

#house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond

[teufelsabbiss]

Story-idea: teacher/father

OG!Shen Qingqiu/Tianlang-Jun; unrequited Luò Bīnghé/OG!Shen Qingqiu

Tianlang-Jun falls in love with Su Xiyan and both fall into the trap of the Huan Hua palace master. But the battle goes very differently. Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang manage to escape to the demon realm. Tianlang-Jun sulks for 10 years before he by chance meets a diviner who reveals to him what actually happened. He exacts revenge on the palace master and then goes to find his son. Even though he doesn't necessarily care to be a parent, he figures he should maybe at least try to ensure his son is fine wherever he is. A ritual reveals that he's somewhere in a certain cultivation sect in the human realm. Oh dear, how did that happen?

On his way to the sect he makes a stop at a nice little brothel called the Warm Red Pavilion which has excellent music and service. And coincidentally meets Shen Qingqiu.

Tianlang-Jun loved Su Xiyan; she was cold, strong and beautiful. Once he sees Shěn Qīngqiū, Cupid's arrow hits ten times harder. The man seems to be quite ruthless, a vicious beauty with many talents, humor black as coal and the quick wit befitting a master strategist. He's everything any demon dreams of in a partner. And apparently has had enough bad experiences with fellow humans to not socialize easily. A pity, but Tianlang-Jun is more than ready to tackle the challenge!

While both demons try to figure out a safe way to secretly get into the sect to look for the child, they stay at the brothel. It's a nice place to lounge and has the added benefit of meeting Shen Qingqiu again. Also questioning the prostitutes about him provides very valuable insights. That he's a high-ranking member of the very sect they try to get into has to be fate!

Tianlang-Jun goes on to annoy befriend Shen Qingqiu and reveals that he's searching for his long lost son, shows him a portrait of the late Su Xiyan and says that he has reason to believe said son is in Cang Qiong. Unbeknownst to him, this makes Shen Qingqiu inwardly spit blood, because the portrait clearly shows the irrefutable relation to Luo Binghe. Which means his hated newest disciple is the son of this rich weirdo and has strong backing after all. He has to put a stop to all harassment going on as soon as he gets back to his peak and make up a convincing reason for his prior bad treatment to avoid inevitable backlash. Luckily the little beast hasn't been there all that long yet and is hopefully naive enough to fall for a made-up explanation.

Tianlang-Jun still hasn't found a way around the security. He could just barge in and follow the ritual to it's target, but that would only cause another war with the humans and he doesn't want that. So he's continuing his flirting and wooing in the meantime. Shen Qingqiu develops feelings rather quickly, but refuses to admit it at all costs. He tells Tianlang-Jun that the son he's looking for is his disciple, but doesn't allow immediate contact with the excuse that it would confuse the child to suddenly be confronted with an unknown parent at this point in time, intending to prolong their meeting until he can be reasonably sure Luo Binghe believed his prior treatment was for a beneficial goal and won't say anything to the contrary.

To his surprise, Tianlang-Jun seems perfectly content with this explanation as well as the overall situation. Shen Qingqiu doesn't really know how to feel about this. On the one hand, this makes it easier and should he ever be inclined to reciprocate the advances, he probably won't have to worry about said lover having a crazy wish to have children. But then, isn't that a terribly flaky attitude to have for a father?! Typical rich bastards! Despite that, the flirting continues and the better this goes, the better Bīnghé is treated.

Shen Qingqiu asks Luo Binghe whether he would hypothetically want to leave the sect, if he found out he had family? Binghe very firmly answers that he would never want to leave Qing Jing peak and that the only family he thought of as his family was his now dead adoptive mother anyway.

After about a year, things look pretty good between Tianlang-Jun and Shen Qingqiu. Good enough that he thinks it's time to reveal that he's a demon. It doesn't go very well.

It takes a lot of effort, disclosing everything about the betrayal of Lao Gongzhu, what went on later and continued wooing over several months to convince Shen Qingqiu that he never had any nefarious intentions, but eventually Shen Qingqiu warms up to him again. Now, though, there's the question how reuniting Tianlang-Jun with his son will impact things. What if he truly rather stays in the sect? Which Tianlang-Jun seems to be perfectly fine with, if that's his son's wish. It's difficult to carry a big secret like being a half-demon around as a hormonal teenager who would then know he's constantly in danger. In the end, they decide to not tell Binghe until he's old enough to leave the sect if he deemed staying too dangerous, so he wouldn't need to rely on the backing of anyone person or a sect and can decide without duress. (Yes, they are both very bad at making good decisions.)

With this hurdle out of the way, Tianlang-Jun can express himself fully and without any holds barred. Shen Qingqiu eventually has to admit his feelings and they get together. Eventually he agrees to carry a gifted trinket with him at all times that alerts Tianlang-Jun should he be in trouble. He couldn't bear to have the same tragedy happening twice. Shen Qingqiu is very flattered and moved by him showing such care.

Not long after, the rumor mill of Cang Qiong flares up again due to his greatly increased visits to the brothel. Shen Qingqiu is angry enough about it this time to forego all safety concerns for the sect and installs a teleportation-array in his bamboo house. This way he can meet up with his lover in private and it's possible for Tianlang-Jun to get to him in case of an actual emergency even in the sect.

Then Shěn Qīngqiū goes into seclusion in the Lingxi-caves, despite Tianlang-Jun's lovesick whining. He takes Tianlang-Jun's gift with him and when Liu Qingge has his qi-deviation, he's alerted and rushes in to help. Together, knocking out a qi-deviating Liǔ Qīnggē is child's play and he leaves Shěn Qīngqiū to take care of his shidi until he's better. Luckily, Tianlang-Jun did remember to take the concealing talisman that Shen Qingqiu made with him to hide his demonic qi so that no alarms go off.

Tianlang-Jun obviously misses Shen Qingqiu and goes to roam around his house every now and then, just to be closer in thought (poor Zhuzhi-Lang has to listen to a lot of dramatic pining). During one of these visits Sha Hualing attacks Cang Qiong. This is swiftly and brutally dealt with. Can't have his beloved come back to a plundered and humiliated sect after all. Sha Hualing flees as soon as she realizes who stands before her, but some others are less smart and also too slow.

When Shěn Qīngqiū comes out of the caves, he's greeted by unhurt, but mortified disciples and a smug heavenly demon and his obedient nephew inmidst a massive bloodbath. Tianlang-Jun bows to him and makes flirtatious small-talk that make the disciples witnessing their banter believe the demon owed the Qing Jing peak lord a favor. Or that he's challenging him. No one is quite sure, but everyone agrees it's awesome that Shěn Qīngqiū succeeds in making them leave without further trouble.

Due to the good treatment, Luò Bīnghé falls in love with Shěn Qīngqiū. After meeting Meng Mo, he asks his shizun whether he thinks that all demons are evil? Shěn Qīngqiū replies that humans and demons are the same, capable of good and evil, but demons tend to chose evil with glee, whereas humans deceive themselves into thinking their evil is better and less awful. Although this bleak, cynical worldview saddens Bīnghé, he is also hopeful and vows to protect his shizun and one day court him.

The Alliance Conference is infiltrated by Mobei-Jun's demons and Bīnghé's seal is broken. To his surprise, his shizun knew about his demon heritage for years. Then Tianlang-Jun shows up, almost kills Mobei-Jun before he can retreat and speaks with a lot of innuendo to Shěn Qīngqiū. Bīnghé remembers him from the attack on Qiong Ding a few years ago. What this mighty demon said to his shizun back then (and now yet again) makes Bīnghé fear this man is an old enemy that wants to harm or abduct his shizun. He tries to attack and is stopped by Tianlang-Jun without effort. Tianlang-Jun then fully removes Bīnghé's seal. Binghe is mortified, stumbles away from him and accidentally falls into the Endless Abyss. Tianlang-Jun tries to grab him, but doesn't succeed. Since it has come to this, he calls after his falling klutz of a son to train well while he's there. (Which Binghe obviously takes as the cruel mocking of an enemy.)

Once Bīnghé is gone, he waves off Shěn Qīngqiū's (minimal) worries; the healing power of Bīnghé's heavenly demon blood will prevent him from dying, no problem. And it actually will indeed be a very good, if highly unpleasant, training opportunity. There are a few more rifts to the Endless Abyss in the demon realm, he and his nephew can go search for Binghe later.

A few days after this disaster, Tianlang-Jun jokes that now that his son is out of the disciple phase, Shěn Qīngqiū has no reason at all anymore to suspect the courting is a sham to ensure favoritism and starts to make marriage proposals. Tianlang-Jun searches for Binghe regularly, but can't find him.

Bīnghé comes back after two years speed-running the Endless Abyss, spurred on by the fear that his shizun was hurt or killed by the demon who was responsible for him ending up in this hellish place. Instead, he finds Cang Qiong is the riot of the cultivation world for having an alliance with heavenly demons.

The rumors vary. Some say the insidious Qing Jing peak lord seduced and bound a mighty demon to further the sect's power.

Others say he was ravaged and forced into marriage by the heavenly demon and, unable to defeat the demon or break the curse that was placed upon the pitiable immortal master, the sect had no choice but to accept the bond and ally with the demon to ensure at least a minimum of safety and respite for the man. There's a whole book written about this version of the story, with outrageous, detailed scenes of forced papapa. (So basically The Regret of Chunshan with different characters.)

This is obviously terrible gossip to hear for an already frightened Bīnghé.

The truth is, in a way, even worse for him in the end, because it squashes all hopes of ever having his shizun by his side like he wants to. There is no need for a hero who swoops in to save his beloved. Shěn Qīngqiū happily accepted Tianlang-Jun's marriage proposal a month after the disastrous Alliance Conference and they spent the next three months to convince the other peak lords that Tianlang-Jun was framed back when they tried to seal him. That he had nothing to do with either the attack on their sect nor with the Alliance Conference debacle. And on the contrary, helped them a lot over the years already and that allying themselves with him is extremely beneficial. As soon as that was accomplished, they announced the marriage and made their vows on Qiong Ding peak with Yuè Qīngyuán and Zhuzhi-Lang as stand-ins for the family.

(Welcome back, Luo Bīnghe. You missed your master's marriage day. By the way, since Tianlang-Jun is your father, I'm not only your shizun but also your stepfather now. I expect you to keep calling me shizun, though. Oh, right, you didn't know he's your father yet. Well, now you do. While we're at it, meet your cousin.)

Meng Mo is laughing about this whole absurd situation until Binghe threatens to not play host anymore.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #tianlang jun #story idea #writing prompt

[sergeifyodorov]

blue, white, white, blue

brian phillips "parallel lives: tom brady, peyton manning, and the nature of great sports rivalries" / abc news florida / goalie mask collector / act of god / goalie mask collector / christopher logue "cold calls (war music, continued)" / pablo picasso, "guernica" / sportsnet / jane creighton "writing war, writing memory" / bruce bennett / steve russell / florence and the machine, "daffodil" / toronto maple leafs / nhl / red rider, "lunatic fringe" / mike carlson

#toronto maple leafs #auston matthews #steven stamkos #tampa bay lightning #web weaving #anyhway. the fundamental truth of making one of these types of posts i have learned is that you always want to make it 30x longer than it i #like. i don't have time for a microessay on john tavares!!!!!

[secretsocietie]

Steve's parents are home.

They came--not for him, but for some need to make Hawkins feel the weight of their presence at the annual charity ball.

Guess you can't hold the title of rich asshole unless your neighbors can watch you prove it.

All it means for him is quiet, stern talks followed by long disappointed looks. Nit-picking comments that attack everything from his life choices to his clothes.

One particularly bad moment has his father, whiskey glass in hand, making a face as he examined Steve's nose. 

"I'm not paying to fix it until you learn to stay out of fights." He tells him, voice a mix of disgusted and haughty that Steve himself used to mimic. 

"There's nothing wrong with my nose!" He'd snapped but still spent an hour in the bathroom anyway, worrying about it.

Which is what his father had wanted, the cold bastard.

It was the straw that had sent Steve banging out of his front door, uncaring about his parents yelling about appearances behind him.

It was enough that he'd suffered under veiled insults and poor attempts at caring. That they hadn't once asked about anything that had happened to him, hadn't cared to continue the conversation the one time Steve had tried to bring even a portion of it up.

To go after his appearance, the last thing he could fucking cling too?

Fuck them. They could have the cold house they refused to call a home to themselves.

He doesn't have a destination in mind when he gets in the Beamer. Just cranks the music and rockets out of the driveway. 

Drives a little too fast. 

Takes the next corner hard and almost nails a car laying haphazardly across the road. 

Steve stands on the brakes, jerking the wheel sideways. Feels his tires slide in gravel as he narrowly misses a full blown collision with what is rapidly looking to be Billy Hargrove's Camaro. 

Adrenaline thunders in body and for a moment Steve feels like he's outside of time, until the Beamer finally slams to a stop. 

"Fucking--help!"  A voice he knows screams, and Steve's out of his car in a second, ready to square up.

He expects to see Hargrove.

 Assumes the idiot is the one causing problems and gears himself up to face the asshole down a second time. 

Hopes whatever poor saps got in his way this time isn't a kid. 

What Steve doesn't expect to see, is the younger man bolting towards him, blood splattered down his face and face screwed up in wild panic.

Something takes his legs out from under him before he gets even halfway to Steve, smashing him face first into the gravel. 

It’s brutal, and Steve flinches back as Hargrove cries out, the sound almost animalistic. It‘s hard to hear over the crunch of gravel, the way his hands had flown down to try and catch himself and were torn along the rough rocks. 

 Somehow he manages to scramble into movement despite the pain he has to be in, determined in a way Steve recognizes instinctively as a mixture of adrenaline and pure terror. 

He has time to process hauntingly familiar red-black vines, like the tentacles of some great creature that’s writhing around Hargrove’s legs as he digs into the ground with his fingers, fighting to escape. 

Grunts harshly as the vines go taught and pull. 

He's being dragged into the maw of an open warehouse, the open door marred with thick, dark slime, and for a split second wide, tear streaked blue eyes meet Steve's own. 

"Harrington!" Hargrove screams, the sound raw, "Help me!" 

It's enough to cut through the shock keeping Steve in place. 

He springs forward as Billy's hand releases the gravel to reach for him instead. 

Not that Steve's going to take it. 

Knows better than to get into a tug of war with the Upside Down.

Instead he darts past, starts kicking the shit out of the tendrils as he looks about desperately for a weapon.

His nailbat is in the back of the Beamer, but he needs to free Hargrove before he can get it. 

Has the worst feeling that if Hargrove is dragged to the bottom of the dark stairs, the blonde won't be making it back home. 

Tendrils strike at his ankles, snakelike, and Steve dances away with a curse. 

Billy is howling up a storm, swear words mixing with pleas in between frantic, choked noises that will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

He needs a fucking weapon. Is furious at himself for not carrying around a knife, or a flashlight or literally anything.

It's the frantic mental scrambling that does him in, a vine snapping out and embedding itself in his ankle. 

It jerks Steve off his feet, and he only evades capture due to his own flailing limbs severing the thin connection as he falls down. 

Belts out a string of curse words as pain rockets up his leg, the singular thin vine trying to bury itself back into his leg, stabbing at the jean material of his pants. 

He jerks away, kicking frantically at it. Has tje odd thought that at least he had managed to avoid smacking his head this time. 

Hargrove is forcefully yanked past him as Steve struggles to stand back up. The slide of his body makes a horrid scraping noise that makes Steve clench his teeth.

The younger man's hands catch on the doorway, blood and tears mixing down his face. 

He stares dead into Steve's eyes, and for the first time, the older boy feels like he's seeing Billy instead of Hargrove.

A guy who's barely 18, blood clumping in his hair and face painfully young.

Way too young to die like this.

"Steve, please." Billy whispers it like he's using his last breath to say it, the plea mounting Steve's fury into something monstrous.

Hell will freeze over before the fucking Upside Down takes another person he knows away from him.

"Fuck this!" Steve snarls, then lunges to bite the largest vine.

It's not made of wood.

The taste is vile, but he can hear whatever's down at the bottom of the stairs shriek as his teeth rip a huge chunk out of it.

He manages to find a decent sized rock in the gravel, and Steve wastes no time using it. Smashes it again and again into the vine, still ripping with his teeth.

It tastes a lot like rancid, raw meat, something Steve is doing his best not to think about. 

Finally the fucking thing tears apart, and Steve spits everything in his mouth out angrily. 

This gets at least one of Hargrove's legs free. 

Later Steve will give credit where credit is due because Billy wastes no time picking the fight back up. 

Watches as he jams a hand down his pockets and yanking out a Swiss army knife. It's not the switchblade Steve's been wishing for, but Billy uses it like it is. 

Flexes his upper body in a show of power, proving his muscles aren't just for looks.

Holds himself up by his core alone as he stabs down at the remaining vine that's trapped him. 

Together they're close to freeing Billy when two slimmer, darker vines shoot up from the gloom. One pierces Hargrove in the shoulder, close to his chest. 

The other goes through Steve's hand to nail Billy's leg. 

They scream in unison, Steve attacking instinctively with his teeth while the shorter boy under him bucks and withers, hand and tiny knife trying to dislodge the tendril in his shoulder. 

Steve succeeds first, biting clear through his vine and yanking it out of himself and Billy. 

He rises to a crouch, uses his good hand to help wrestle with the second tendril as it wiggles its way deeper into Billy.

Rips it out with Billy's help, and prays none of it stays in him as Steve wings it down the stairs. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!' Billy pants, bloodied hands grasping at the ground, his head tipping backwards. 

They're not safe. Not until they get away, or kill whatever larger horror the damn vines are attached to. 

"Come on." Steve pants, moving behind Billy and getting his own arms under his, trying to pull them both up and back. 

Away from the damn warehouse door.

Billy tries to help, legs kicking and scrambling as they half crawl half fall their way in between the Beamer and the Camaro.

It seems his legs are fucked (likely more fucked than Steve's ankle, if the vines been stabbing at him) and pain makes them both curse until they hit the door of Steve's car. 

They crouch together for a moment, breathing hard and bleeding on one another.

Hargrove has a death grip on Steve's arms, holding him like a lifeline, back resting against his chest. 

Steve's partially kneeling behind him,  his good hand fisted on Billys shirt. Both stare at the warehouse door, fighting pain and praying for a few seconds just to let the waves of it pass. 

Nothing happens for one breath.

Two.

On the fifth draw of air, Steve starts trying to stand, tugging on Billy to go up with him. 

On the seventh something makes an inhuman roar, shaking the ground beneath them. 

Hands fly out, reaching for the Beamers back door. Everything's slick under his blood but Steve manages to get it open anyways, hustling Billy inside before slamming it shut. 

Crashes sound, growing louder as Steve dives for the driver's door. 

Thanks every deity he can think of when he finds he never shut the Beamer off.

 Her wheels squeal angrily as he slams her into reverse but he'll apologize for the abuse later, too focused on getting them the hell out of there. 

"No hospital." Hargrove half pants, half moans, strewn across the backseat.  Steve risks a glance at him in the rear view, and tries to make out how bad the other boy's injuries are. "Harrin-urk--gton, no hospital-!"

"I heard." Steve says.

Billy's hands are pressed into his shoulder, his shirt so stained with dirt, grime and blood it takes Steve a moment to realize it's been ripped open, bearing a toned, golden chest.

He doesn't want to go to the hospital either. 

"You gonna die on me?"

Hargrove snorts. 

"Had worse." He grunts out, then smiles around a bloody mouth. "Not even unconscious."

Somehow Steve believes him.

In the other direction, sitting on a nearby park bench, Eddie Munson is finishing up the last drug deal of the night. 

He's too far away to hear any of the noise. Has a beaten and busted stereo playing a Judas Priest cassette, the noise a little fuzzy but good enough.

Definitely loud--which was why he never heard the vines coming.

#metalsandwich #harringroveson #steddilly #steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harrington/billy hargrove #s3 rewrite #Hive AU #stranger things AU

[doodlesdreaming]

Writing Idea: The other Horsemen learning Death lost a fiddling contest to some random human kid

(Anyone who has watched my darksiders streams will instantly get this joke. If not...well hope you enjoy anyway. XD)

There are a good handful of words that Strife would use to describe Death. 'Sarcastic', 'Cold', 'Jackass,' to name a few. 'Hoarder', on the other hand, not in a million years... until now,

"God damn...just how much stuff do you need!? Half of these is just junk."

The gunslinger tossed aside what looked to have been an angelic relic of some sort. But the piece was cracked nearly in two, rendering it useless. Grumbling, he continued to sort through a large, self made, pile of various gear and weaponry, much like his other siblings in several spots of Death's bone built abode. The sound of steel unsteathing from leather, turned his attention up to Fury admiring a katanta shaped sword.

"Not everything here is junk, Strife." Fury spoke with a smile curling on her lips. Her eyes, as bright as the rest of the Four, seem to gleam in the light of the blade in her hands, just as the hand of her eldest brother promptly snatched it from her grasp,

"None of it is junk." Death retorted, "And if you looked as fast as you move your mouth, Strife, we would be well on our way by now."

"It would REALLY help if you remembered where you put the damn thing to begin with!" Strife glared, temper ever so slightly beginning to boil.

"How did this mess even come to be anyhow?" War questioned as he joined the rest of his kin in the 'master bedroom' of the house, "Your home, empty as it is, is at most organized. But last I was here, there wasn't much to begin with."

"Vulgrim." Death explained, sighing in annoyance. "Apparently, after I was...indisposed, he dumped all my gear in my house. While keeping some of it to himself, as I've come to learn."

"Like Harvester..." War sneered, "I still wonder how he got his filthy hands on your scythe . Or what else he might be hiding in his void holes, like your golden fiddle, for instance. I do not see it among this horde."

"Woah woah woah, his what now?" Strife froze as he was setting aside a pair of boots to turn fully towards his little brother, "His...golden fiddle? You're joking, right? Death? With any sort of instrument?"

"I would not lie about this, brother." War told him, "I distinctly remember seeing a golden instrument hanging up on his wall when I was here during the Battle of the Abomination Vault. I meant to ask about it, Death, but I had forgotten about it after the fight. And now, it appears to be missing."

Death said nothing. He appeared frozen in place, bent over a set of gear. He slowly stood up, turning to face his siblings, with the most neutral face he could pull behind his bone mask, "I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about, War."

"I could've sworn..." War mused, beginning to wonder if maybe he had mis-remembered. It had been over several centuries ago.

"Did you so happen to lose it to some kid with musical talents that far surpassed your own?" Everyone glanced towards Fury, who leaned over a rather large set of armor, smirking up at her eldest like a cherisare cat,

"There so happens to be a popular tune the humans like to sing, of a devil who went to some place called Georgia, looking for souls when he came across a young fiddle player. The devil bet his golden fiddle that he could play better and lost." Fury curled her hands under her chin, smiling oh so sweet and innocent like, "Could perhaps that devil be you?"

The silence that filled the room was nearly deafening. War and Strife looked to Death to see what he would say, only to see the Pale Rider slowly cross his arms and turn to look away from his siblings' stares.

"That brat swore he wouldn't tell a soul..."

War and Fury fought to keep rising snickers in check, but Strife did not even try. He roared into infectious laughter that broke the other two. Growling,Death tossed a leather worn boot at Strife’s head. The White Rider promptly ducked and scrambled to flee as Death gave chase.

#darksiders #darksiders death #darksiders strife #darksiders fury #darksiders war #four horsemen of the apocalypse #dorks of the apocalypse #fanfiction #writing prompt #headcanons #video games #thanks for the ask!

[starplusfourletters]

For All Mankind S2

I feel like they re-introduced each of the characters with age makeup, and then forgot to put it on for the rest of the season. None of the women have aged a single day.

Thank God the Baldwins adopted someone with inherent emotional intelligence because they sure as hell weren’t going to hit on that genetically

GUS GRISSOM CALL OUTTTTTTTT

I had a great high school US history teacher and we definitely covered the Cold War and I Did Not Remember the time the USSR shot down a passenger jet carrying a US congressman

Molly & Margo continue to be everything to me with a side of Molly & Margo & Ellen beginning to be everything to me aUsPiStIcEsHiP??

Not to be confused with the Ed-Karen-Wayne-Molly matesprit / moirail quadrangle which is also independently everything to me

Danielle Poole is what happens when you watch too much Star Trek and no one tells you the Soviets are about to straight up nuke Florida

I continue to stan both Karen and Ed even though they are horrible people I just think they should get everything they ever wanted I will not be taking questions

Showrunners: We will not be introducing a lot of new characters this season. However, consider that one of them is Sally Ride and she has a handgun

Drink every time someone has to tell Ed that this isn’t Korea. My guy it has been THIRTY YEARS

There’s something hilarious to me about the s1 finale involving Margo directing two separate missions at the same time and both of them spiral entirely out of control, and the s2 finale has her directing three separate missions at the same time and all of them spiral entirely out of control. Like idk maybe try having fewer missions happen at the same time?

SEE MARGO THIS IS WHY YOU CAN’T LET ANYONE IN

By far the most unrealistic thing about this show is that the music industry from 1969 onwards just obliviously chugs forward along the original timeline

#for all mankind #s2 #spoilers

[emilykaldwen]

@mercurygray called my ass out and sent me Moonlight Serenade to finally get me to start that WWII!Abrogon AU, If Found, Please Return. Which is basically Westeros 1940s esque dragon war.

Send me a Song title au + oc/ship!

this was supposed to be a list of ideas buuuut instead you get a two page drabble because I had feelings. this is unbeta'd and like, I literally just finished writing it but it came to me so fast so it's a good monday methinks

Aegon didn’t want to go.

Oh, he’d been ready, Warrior save him (and hells, how his mother would not stop praying and trying to fit every little woven symbol of the god among his things to the point where he gently, but firmly, told her to stop and give some to Aemond. Him and Vhagar were headed towards Volantis with the Redwyne Raiders to hold The Orange Coast), Aegon had been eager in the way someone who doesn’t fear the Stranger could only be.

What better way to prove himself than command his own battalion from the back of his dragon and show that he was made of sterner stuff than the soft bellied boy that his grandfather spat at him.

What better way to gain his own father’s attention?

Cold fingers tighten through his and he brushes his lips against the crown of Abrogail’s hair, where all he can smell is bergamot and rose and feels the knot of nerves inside him ease.

“I stand and I wait for the touch of your hand in the June night,” he sang to her as the music of the band wafted over them. He felt her little huff of laughter against his shoulder where her cheek rested, breathless from the wild spinning along the dance floor moments before. He could feel the way her heart hammered against her ribs and how it echoed in him.

‘Why leave?’ He thought. Why leave when he could crawl between her ribs and settle himself in the space inside where he was loved and wanted, and he could keep her warm. He could stay with her. 

Maybe he should demand his battalion get sent to Norvos where Abby’s own orders were sending her. His little rabbit had answered the call and was a nurse at the hospital there.

‘I won’t be far.’ He would be in the hills and patrolling up towards Lorath Bay. How far the Triarchy wars had spread and Westeros had entered the fray once Tyrosh fell and the Velaryon fleet in the Stepstones had been attacked.

“I should put labels in your clothes as I do my sketchbooks,” Abby murmured and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. Aegon cuddled her closer. “If found, please return.” The front of her sketchbooks held the same plea, decorated with little rabbits with pleading faces and the address of her father’s law office in King’s Landing.

Aegon chuckled and tilted his head down so he could brush his mouth against the shell of her ear. “So if they find me, they’ll dump me on your father’s desk. I’m sure the man wants words with me.”

“If you’re implying he’s hoping you do not come back, you are sorely mistaken.” Her kiss was warm against his shoulder and Aegon shivered, his hand tightening against the curve of her hip. “If you do not come back, neither do-”

“Hush,” he cut in, a nip to her ear for such talk. She tilted her head back to look at her. Eyes as blue as the Narrow Sea, as blue as the sky he and Sunfyre adored. Abby’s heart shaped mouth was painted a deep red, her curls brushed into submission into a golden red cloud around her shoulders. Aegon rested her other hand on his shoulder so he could cup her cheek. “We’re both coming back. As if anything happens that far north from the fighting anyway. The worst that’ll happened is I’ll get court martialed for getting caught coming to see you.”

Abby scrunched her pretty face up in a familiar, disbelieving expression. “Well, I will miss Sunfyre awfully much. Almost as much as I’ll miss you.”

“I stand at your gate and I sing you a song in the moonlight,” he continued and Abby’s scrunched up face eased into the soft, dreamy expression that made him wish they were alone, made him wish they were back in his room or away at the little cabin outside Harrenhal where none would bother them.

“A love song, my darling, a Moonlight Serenade,” she sang back to him and he pressed his mouth to hers. Her fingers tangled into his short hair to hold him close, feet moving to stand on his so he could guide them both.

taglist: @fyeahhotdocs, @ocappreciation, @stannisfactions, @fragilestorm, @starcrossedjedis, @darkwolf76, @arrthurpendragon, @dopedaegus, @hiddenqveendom, @mantillon, @lightofthearrow, @songsonacliffside, @acrossthesestars, @insabecs, @prosemoireia, @dragonsbone, @corporalicent, @jadore-andor, @selfproclaimedunicorn, @gwenllian-in-the-abbey, @notbloodraven, @impales, @arcielee, @thesunfyre4446

#fic: if found please return #aegon x abby #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen fic #aegon tarrgaryen fanfiction #aegon targaryen #that war au #oc: abrogail strong #I love this lil AU #IDK if it'll ever get the full treatment #I have *thoughts* #my fics

[moonlight-prose]

A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE

a/n: i've been feeling stressed because i can't seem to finish any of my long fics due to writers block or burn out. so i decided to write a small thing for marc spector, because i really miss him and steven. also mainly cause this is my dream romance scenario.

summary: a sunday kind of love...that was all you could have wanted with him.

word count: 678

pairing: marc spector x reader

warnings: none, fluffy as fuck.

Hints of sunlight beneath the midnight blue hue of the curtains gave way to a combination of warmth and cold. A perfect encasing of the morning afternoon where sleep crept up one’s spine and the scent of coffee from outside wafted through the room. The blanket was too comfortable to remove. Almost as if this was your armor against what remained of the frigid morning air.

An internal war of waking up and slumbering fought in the back of your mind as you cracked open your eyes. Like a cat unwilling to stir from a nap, you slowly allowed all six of your senses to return to you. The remainder of your body, still stuck in the grasp of sleep. A yawn escaped you, tears filling your eyes as you stretched slightly, the curve of your spine cracking softly.

You were unable to fully surrender to the waking world. You couldn’t. The cocoon you were a part of felt too much like the embrace of a lover. While your lover was gone, vanished for the day, you were still in their arms in your imagination.

The door cracked open slightly, the shuffle of someone attempting to walk lightly across the wooden floors, echoed behind you. That small bit of noise brought you out of your sleepy state, eyes opening fully as you fought against the exhaustion that still wracked your body. It turns out working late hours didn’t bode well for your state of being. Rather it left you immobile, barely able to lift your head to see the dark head of hair as he stripped off his jacket.

“Marc?” Even your voice sounded different, far more gravelly than when you were wide awake. Although he claimed to love the sound of you first thing in the morning—claiming he’d never heard anyone hotter.

“Shit,” he mumbled, turning to look at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

A lazy grin spread across your lips, the scent of coffee stronger now. “Mm, did you bring me coffee?”

“Steven’s idea.”

“Bullshit,” you huffed, digging further into the sheets that still smelled like him. “C’mere it’s cold.”

Though you couldn’t see him, you knew he wore a smile as he pulled off his shoes, letting them thump on the ground one at a time. The blankets shifted, his scent now combining with the richness of the dark roast he knew you loved. If you could, you’d bottle it up just to smell it all day, to be reminded of the man who owned every part of your soul. Who promised you forever with the hope that you’d say yes.

As if on instinct, he reached for your left hand, twisting the delicate ring that sat there. The movement made you smile, your eyes fluttering open to see his brown ones watching you with a look that continued to steal your breath each and every morning. The look that made you feel loved and beautiful. Leaning in closer you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Savoring the flavor of the coffee he already sipped.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip.

“I have to get up for work.” The dreaded words that left a pit in the bottom of your stomach.

He still smiled though. “I called in sick for you.” Your eyes opened again, seeing the mischief that you could only claim as Marc’s. “So if they ask you have the flu.”

Sighing, you sunk into his embrace, feeling warmth encase your heart as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Love you,” you mumbled, being lulled by the steady beat of his heart.

“Love you more baby.”

Eventually you’d have to get up, join the sun in its ascent into the sky, but for now you could remain in your own haven with him. Falling asleep to the music of his love, the warmth of his touch. Sunday would come and go, but this was your forever. That alone was enough for you—forever.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #marc spector one shot #moon knight #moon knight fic #my writing #my ass has been feeling super duper lonely lately #so out came this #popping in to post this before i sleep

[undrgrnd-nft]

Tezos Goes Big

I really didn’t want to write this, I swear. I have real work to do, podcasts to edit and my daughter is home sick; but, it’s like holding in a sneeze, when I have something to say it’s best to get it out.

This is not about the @tezos event at Art Basel Miami. It may be what is driving the conversation but this is not really about the displays in a lobby of a hotel.

This is the culmination of years of disrespect to a driving force of adoption and endemic of the crypto space (and society) at large.

Art rejuvenating dead space is not a novel concept. In fact, in Miami, there’s an entire area that could have been used as a template by all blockchains. It’s called Wynnewood, look it up and you’ll get the New York Times article I reference all the time.

What was once an industrial park became a hub for restaurants, music and entertainment: culture.

Why? Because some graffiti artists began painting on the cold gray walls of a concrete jungle.

Did those artists share any of the financial gain brought to the neighborhood? No, but think of the exposure!

Web3 was not built by nor built for creatives like us (yea, I’m putting myself in that group, shut up about it). It was built by boys and men that look, talk and act like me (white, male, presumable douchey based on appearance) but lack a moral and emotional foundation.

They use the right words, have picked up key phrases and platitudes, but at the core it’s not about the things many of us value. It’s not about art.

It’s not about a reorganization of institutions that were built to keep specific classes, races and sexes subservient.

It is not building a utopian-Marxist future where the moral and decent are rewarded financially for their collective effort.

Look at the state of streaming services: Netflix, Hulu, Paramount, Peacock, Max. What was once meant to disrupt the cable industry has now become Cable Networks 2.0.

The same is true in crypto. What started as a revolution has become a hype parade led by influencers masquerading as cultural relevance.

Remember the @TezosFoundation Permanent Collection drama? In a Twitter space shortly after things began to spiral downward, one of the leads made a comment on the criticisms, “if this is the response maybe we won’t do this again.”

We all knew it then.

But many of us came here to create something better. So we, many of them my friends, gave second chances, put a positive spin on it and took their opportunity when it was offered.

I was jealous.

Because I would have done the same.

UNDRGRND is just me: a stay at home dad, taking care of a toddler who disrupts the means of production constantly. I know how hard it is to put together something and share it with an audience.

But so does every artist I write about.

So when we watch people with large budgets, people who are able to make a living on crypto already, getting paid to present the work of others and the result is done with the level of care it takes to hang a Missing Cat poster on a telephone pole, it’s infuriating.

Many of the artists I’ve gotten to know over these past three years were creative directors in their web2 lives. Do you know what they could have done with a fraction the amount of money @tezos has in its war chest?

It’s disrespectful.

It always has been.

I’m going to push post on this in a few minutes and the anxiety is rising. I know others are going to criticize what I’m launching in the coming months.

I’m in a glass house throwing rocks.

The difference is I’m not deluded enough to think I have all the answers or have an ego like I’ve done anything yet.

I’m just a guy writing about the things I like while my four-year-old sleeps on me.

This was never about the display.

It was about the devaluation of creatives for years and the continuation of a broken social contract that promised an idealistic future.

So heed the lesson because we’re tired of this shit.

And I’m fucking coming…

- Founder of UNDRGRND, @NFTjoe

#undrgrnd #tezos (xtz) #nftmagazine #nftcommunity #nftgallery #nftcollection #cryptoart #crypto #nft #nft4art #miami #digital art #artwork #art #artists on tumblr #gif art #art basel #miami beach #art week #art miami #louis vuitton

[housethemd]

Coffeehouse Blues

James Wilson hustles down the lamp lit street, collar up turned to fight the wind blowing at his back. The early November air holds the promise of winter in its chill. He passes the rotting husks of Jack O’ Lanterns, interspersed with too-early Christmas lights.

He’d finished work an hour and a half ago. He’d walked down to diagnostics to look for House, but he and his fellows had already left for the day. He’d tried calling but House didn’t pick up. Not wanting to return to his sad, empty hotel room he’d decided to go for a walk in downtown Princeton. He almost regretted moving out of House’s apartment on nights like these. It was a fact, James Wilson did not do loneliness well.

He’d started therapy recently. A private practice not at all associated with any hospital, a necessity if he didn’t want House to know immediately. After his third divorce he thought maybe is was worth looking into way he was both a serial monogamist and a serial adulterer. Why despite the fact that all three of his wives were everything he was supposed to want, they were never enough to make him happy.

This is what he ponders as he walks and walks the streets of Princeton. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets because he didn’t bring gloves, his ears burn because he doesn’t have a hat. He wasn’t planning an hours long walk when he got dressed this morning, but despite the cold settling in his bones he still doesn’t want to go home.

His nose catches the scent of coffee - good coffee - and he realizes across the street from where he’s standing is a coffeehouse. Warm light pours out the large windows along with the delicious smell. He hasn’t had supper, and coffee at this time of night is never a good idea, but the thought of a hot drink in a cozy cafe has him j-walking across the street.

It’s just as wonderfully warm inside as he’d hoped. The building is a historic house that’s been converted into a cafe, so it stretches out into multiple rooms. The room he is in holds the bar and a few small tables, but there are signs with arrows exclaiming “more seating this way!” He can hear an acoustic guitar being played in one of the other rooms. The place is quite busy, and he realizes that it’s some sort of open mic night. He’s enjoying the music being played, and hopes the other performers are as talented as this one. He plans to stay and drink his coffee, try to warm up, before he heads back to his car to bite the bullet and return to his hotel room.

“Large coffee, dark roast, black, for here please.” He tells the barista when it’s his turn.

He always rehearses his order in his head while waiting in line so he minimizes the time it takes for the person to take his order. He just feels its the polite thing to do.

As he stands and waits for his drink the guitar playing ends. The crowd applauses and after a few moments someone speaks into the microphone.

“That was Jenna Foster everyone. Next up is a name our regulars will remember. Back after a hiatus, Mr. James Callum!” The MC announces just as Wilson is being handed his mug of steaming coffee.

The crowd cheers, clearly happy to have this performer back. He navigates the crowd, moving into the other room where the performance is taking place. He manages to snag a corner table at the back. He can’t see the performer, to many people standing in front of the “stage” area but he doesn’t mind. The coffee mug is warm in his hands and he finally feels some warmth sinking into him as he shrugs off his coat and sits down.

He’s taking his first sip of coffee when the music starts. It’s a slow piano, and as the piece continues it reminds him of some of the pieces House has composed. He isn’t sure if he actually has that good an ear as to pick out House’s music, or if all piano music reminds him of House.

It’s one of the things he misses about living with House. While it’s true that the prank wars were juvenile, and House refusing to do dishes was annoying, there were things that made living with him enjoyable. One of those things was his music. Wilson could easily admit that having House strum his guitar while Wilson cooked, or having him play the piano while Wilson read a book was nice. It felt comfortable and domestic and he missed it almost every night he spend alone in his hotel room.

The music grows to a beautiful crescendo before quieting, and then comes the voice.

“I went down to the St. James Infirmary,

Saw my baby there

She was stretched out on a long, white table

So cool, so sweet, so sweet, so fair,”

That voice stopped Wilson in his tracks. He knew that voice. But, no. There was no way. Absolutely not.

“Let her go, let her go

God bless her

Wherever she may be

She can search this whole wide world over

She won't ever find another man like me,”

He abandoned his table and half drank cup of coffee to push his way to the front of the room. He knew it couldn’t be true. Obviously this was someone who just happened to play and sound very much like his friend. He managed to make it to the second row. Being six feet tall he was able to see over the heads of the people in the first row, and down to the figure seated at the piano.

His jaw dropped. “James Callum” was Gregory House.

“When I die, bury me a straight laced shoes

A box backed suit and a Stetson hat

Put 20 dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So the boys'll know I died standin' pat”

Wilson couldn’t believe it. House rarely sang, even at home. He had a beautiful voice, so suited to the bluesy music he prefers, but for some reason he didn’t like to accompany his playing with his voice. Yet here he was, singing for a bunch of strangers. He used a fake name sure, but still, he was singing. Something Wilson knew was outside his comfort zone.

As the song came to a close House looked up from the keys and looked out at the crowd. He looked eyes with Wilson, face falling blank for a moment. Wilson gave him a huge smile, wanting House to know how proud he was. After a moment House returned the smile with a big one of his own.

House’s big smiles didn’t look like big smiles to anyone who didn’t know him. They only involved half his mouth, the right side turning up and showing his teeth while the left side remained mostly neutral, like his muscles didn’t quite know how to form a smile. Wilson thought maybe that was true, maybe House had smiled so little in his life that his facial muscles didn’t know how. That just meant that every time he got to see that perfect, lopsided smile it made his heart skip a beat because he knew getting to see it made him special.

House turned back to the piano, starting another bluesy tune. Wilson retrieved his mug and coat off the back table, moving to stand and sip his coffee so he could watch his best friend play. House did three more songs before his time slot was up. Afterwards he limped over to where Wilson was standing, leaning in close to be heard over the MC and the chatty crowd.

“I’ll let you come over if you buy me a pizza” House said, blue eyes locking with his and then glancing away, a sign Wilson knew meant House was nervous.

“Sounds like a fair deal to me.”

They exited the busy coffeehouse, walking shoulder to shoulder until they got to House’s car. He drove Wilson to his car as he was parked almost 30 minutes away by foot, and they bid each other temporary farewell.

Climbing into his Volvo, Wilson couldn’t help smiling to himself. He has no idea what it says about him that he’s only truly happy when he’s spending time with his best friend, supposes it’s something he should bring up in therapy.

But for now he has a pizza to buy, and he wants to think up a way to wrangle a personal encore out of House after dinner.

#house md #james wilson #greg house #hate crimes md #dr house #dr wilson #hilson #house/wilson #wilson x house #housethemd writes #house md fic #house md fanfiction #hilson fanfiction #hilson fanfic

[vilandel]

Silver Cats & Black Roses

Chapter 2 – Wedding Bells

A/N Chapter 2 here and somehow I managed to write around 10k words with this one... Guess this is what happened when you have four povs and a lot to tell^^ I like this chapter a lot, as it's definitely put some things into motion for our two main couples 💜💙

Ao3 link

♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

Three months later…

“Oh my, look at this fine looking groom.”

“Would you at least stop teasing me on my wedding day?”

“Sorry, that’s impossible knowing me. And because I’m a nice best friend, I actually did hold back a bit. Couldn’t you tell?”

“No, not really.”

Vanessa laughed and Finral allowed himself a chuckle. He was really looking good in his white smocking, and the bottle green bow tie. Vanessa just knew that lady Finesse was a very lucky woman and given how the bride looked at the groom whenever she could, it was clear that she knew it too.

The wedding ball was still in full swing, the buffet was well visited – somehow, Finral managed to convince the Kiras and the Vaudes to let Charmy help with the food – and the dancefloor never looked empty, the orchestra never stopped the music. There was some nice dances, but Vanessa was kinda disappointed that there weren’t any more exciting dances, like some slow dances. She would have tried to meddle a bit to pep the music up, but Finral had explicitly asked her to not try anything that could angry the Kiras.

Vanessa didn’t understood why, but it seemed important to Finral and she surely wouldn’t try to ruin one of the most important days in his life.

“I can’t believe they managed to organize such a wedding in just three months, just after the war in Spade and while there’s still consequences from the Eye of the Midnight Sun’s attack.”

“Well, it was arranged and planned for a long time, which probably helped to get everything ready on such a short notice. Also, it’s probably to show that royalty, in this case the Kiras, are still strong and that despite everything, there is nothing to worry about. Basically that nothing had changed in their power.”

Change…

That brought Vanessa back. To a discussion that happened in Spade, just three months ago…

Vanessa couldn’t help but search for Nozel in the crowd.

Since their discussion, she tried to keep in contact with him, somehow. Vanessa more often than not took the Black Bulls communication device to reach Nozel, since they wouldn’t cross path each and every day.

At the beginning, he just cut the communication immediately after realizing who was calling him. But he slowly started to listen to her rants and even answered back. Vanessa often had the impression that she was bothering him most of the time and that thought make her sad for some reason.

But she still hasn’t given up the hope to took another look behind his cold mask. That discussion she had with him in Spade, the cracks she saw, it had make her curious about him. Vanessa wanted to know more about Nozel Silva, she wanted to know what made him wear that cold mask. In Spade, she started to believe that he was deeper than he looked at first glance. She had no idea why she was this curious and what it would gave her to find out. But Vanessa remembered the moment where there was that specific crack in his mask, when she felt kinship towards Nozel, when he looked like he was in a cage…

Whatever her still unknown reasons were, she wanted to continue what she started.

Which was easier said than done, because normally there was no reason for their paths to cross again. Calling him per communication device was the closest thing Vanessa could do, but she couldn’t see him that way. One reason why lately often volunteered if there was a document, a report or something else to deliver at the Silver Eagles Headquarters. Vanessa sometimes got a glimpse on him, even got a greeting when she was lucky, but most of time, she didn’t got the chance to see Nozel, because his vice-captain was usually the one she needed to bring those reports and documents to.

Then, there was Noelle who went visiting her oldest brother more often since they came back from Spade. Their relationship was clearly on the way of betterment and after the discussion she had with Nozel in Spade, Vanessa was more happy about it than she maybe would have been before, given how protective she was about Noelle. There was still a lot of work to do, especially considering the other two siblings. But with Nozel, it was already a lot and it meant the world to Noelle.

Vanessa always asked her squadmate news about Nozel and even though it surprised Noelle every time, she always answered. Not much, especially that she was somehow convinced that Vanessa disliked Nozel a lot, but at least, it was another way to keep in touch indirectly with the handsome captain of the Silver Eagles.

Another dance started, probably a waltz or something. Vanessa tried to discover Nozel in the crowd, but there were too many couples dancing and she didn’t recognize most of them.

“Why are there so many nobles? I don’t think that even your parents know this many people.”

“They don’t, but it is actually normal.”

“Normal? Really?”

“For a royal wedding. The finest families of high nobility are always invited to a royal wedding, medium nobility also sometimes and if they’re lucky, some families from low nobility with a house older than three centuries. I think it’s mostly to renew the alliances with the three royal families and it is also an occasion to discreetly show of their own candidates as future royal spouses.”

“What? But your wedding shouldn’t be a place to discuss future royal weddings! Geez, this is supposed to be a party!”

“This is how it works, a royal wedding and an arranged marriage. I’m lucky that Finesse and I are in love, not everyone got that chance in royalty and nobility. And there’s the fact that house Calmreich is a secondary royal branch of the Kiras, otherwise they would have gotten the same name as the main house.”

“Okay, don’t start with how it works with noble and royal lineage, I never got it and honestly I don’t want to get it,” Vanessa groaned while she rolled her eyes.

Finral laughed. “I know, sorry. I won’t go into details. But well, as a secondary branch, there less interesting for marital importance. Most nobles rather would like get married into one of the main royal branches, especially now, most of them are still single.”

Like Nozel… Vanessa couldn’t help but remember again what he said in Spade. It hadn’t been direct, but he clearly had the intention to get an arranged marriage for himself so that his siblings would be free. Vanessa still didn’t like that thought and after three months, maybe it wasn’t even only for Noelles sake anymore.

Speaking of…

“Do you think some nobles are also after Noelle?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, of course?”

“Don’t get mad, Vanessa, I didn’t meant it like this. I don’t like it just as much as you. But it’s not only Noelle, all the Silvas are within nobles radar when it comes to a potential marriage. There’s only four of them left and none of them are married. There are rumours that house Silva is cursed, because most of the members either die young or in celibacy, often in tragic ways. At least, that’s what my mother-in-law told me. I don’t think that it’s true, but well… given that there’s only four Silvas left and how nobles can be disrespectful to even some royals, that topic might be a bit tense sometimes within noble circles.”

“Well, it’s not like the Black Bulls would let Noelle get married against her will.”

“Of course not. But thankfully, we probably won’t even need to intervene, as captain Nozel surely won’t force an arranged marriage on her. As for any of his siblings.”

Yes, Vanessa already realized that. But she was also almost certain that it was deeper. And hidden also, even though she couldn’t really say why. For now, it was just a feeling.

“Um… and why do you believe that?” Vanessa asked carefully.

“I thought you weren’t interested in nobility or royalty mess like this.”

“It concerns Noelle, so it’s an exception.”

At least, she didn’t need to lie by saying that. Even though it wasn’t the whole truth.

Finral just nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Well, let me try to explain at least the base to you. Within nobility and royalty, usually future marriages are arranged very soon, usually years before. Sometimes while the future betrothed are still little children. Don’t look at me like that, it is a reality! As for the wedding itself… Usually, when you’re a noble or a royal, you’re getting married around the time you got your grimoire. Maybe one year afterwards, maybe two sometimes, especially when you’re a woman, it is always a bit later for men. There are some exceptions, like Finesse, the reasons can be various. But considering Noelle, normally she should at least been already engaged or having some suitors to court her when she joined the Black Bulls. And lady Nebra should normally have been married like a decade ago. And since none of them have the luxury of being Mereoleona Vermillion, well… Nozel Silva has the reputation of being the perfect royal, but even though he is not one of the most open-minded royals, I believe that he still won’t marry Noelle and his other siblings off. The fact that none of them are betrothed or married already speaks for him.”

“Hm.”

Vanessa had no idea what to say, but her thoughts were racing right now.

If what Finral said about to common married age for nobles and royalty was true – and she had no reason to doubt her best friend – then it certainly would confirm that captain Nozel will never marry Noelle off and neither his other siblings.

She has no confirmation though, if he would really sacrifice himself or not. Given what Nozel had said in Spade, Vanessa of course suspected that he would. But… He was now 31 and still not married. Granted, Fuegoleon Vermillion was about the same age as him and not married either. Damnatio Kira as well and whoever the other royals that age were, some of them surely weren’t married either.

But if he wanted to sacrifice himself for his siblings, why wasn’t he married yet? Wouldn’t it have taken a burden from him?

Maybe her suspicions were wrong, maybe he had no intentions to get married into a loveless marriage. But with what Finral had just told her… Vanessa still didn’t understood all those royal and noble complicated duties and mess and whatever. But she came to understand that it was definitely pressuring.

Since when do I even care about that kind of stuff?

A question she asked herself quite often since she came back from Spade. But Vanessa never really tried to find an answer, because she would have started to overthink and she hated overthinking.

“Um, Vanessa? You’re still here with me?”

Finral waved a hand in front of her face, which made Vanessa laugh.

“Of course I am, Fin. Why should I be anywhere else, when my best friend is getting married to the love of his life?”

“What did I say about the teasing? You just felt a absent for a moment. And it’s not the first time since we came back from Spade. Did something happened that bothers you?”

Vanessa bit lips softly, not answering. Finral knew her well and he was observant. Of course he would realize that something was on her mind. But Vanessa didn’t think she could tell Finral yet. She hated having secrets on her best friend, but at the same time, that secret was also something totally new for her and something she still needed to figure out. What it meant to her, why she cared, why her curiosity was racing…

Vanessa decided that she would tell Finral one day. But not today, not on his wedding day.

“Nothing worries me. I just decided something, but if I tell you know, you might get worried, knowing you. And it’s your wedding day, not the time for you to get married.”

“I admit that this is a good argument. But even though I’m married now, it doesn’t mean that you can’t come to me when something is bothering you. And you can also talk to Finesse, she likes you a lot.”

“Why, thank you, I like her too!”

During those three months, Finesse Calmreich visited the Black Bulls a lot. It wasn’t a duty due to the betrothal and upcoming wedding, she just wanted to meet the people so close to Finral. The Bulls liked her so much that she was quickly called an honorary Black Bull. And given that there wasn’t any paperwork to do to give this title, Yami had nothing against it.

Speaking of Yami, Vanessa hadn’t seen him since the ceremony in the cathedral of the royal capital. She wondered if he was at the buffet or if he went to the toilet, taking a dump even on Finrals wedding.

Thinking of Yami made her think about another squad captain. She saw him at the ceremony in the cathedral, sitting next to Noelle.

Noelle hadn’t come with the Black Bulls to the wedding, which honestly sucked, as a royal wedding, she had to come as a royal. Especially since it was the first royal wedding since at least twenty years. Finral had told Vanessa that Nozel actually tried to get his sister out of this duty for the day, but king Augustus and the Head of House Vermillion had protested against it.

Finral didn’t know more and Vanessa wondered if there was more to that. Another little thing about Nozel that she was curious to know more about.

At least, it meant that Nozel was indeed working on being a better brother for Noelle and even though he couldn’t get her of duty for Finrals wedding, Vanessa did saw how he was standing at his sister’s side during the ceremony, clearly carrying her when Noelle looked at lost with all the royal things to do.

“Did Asta actually asked Noelle for a dance already?” Vanessa asked suddenly.

“As far as I know, he didn’t. I saw him not too long ago at the buffet with Magna and Noelle, well, she danced with captain Nozel once. Otherwise, it looked like she was avoiding Asta.”

“What is wrong with her since we came back from Spade? I don’t get why she tried to avoid Asta sometimes or why she can’t hold a normal conversation with him anymore most of the time! Argh, it really sucks. She probably still denies her feelings for him and Asta is still so dense like before Spade. I had hoped that it would change after our return, but nope, this still hadn’t changed!”

“Give them time. You know how stubborn Noelle is and Asta, well, I don’t think he’s in love with anyone in general.”

“Except with the nun that raised him.”

“I don’t think that this counts, it’s a childhood crush and Asta is just too stubborn to let go of it for now. But I think that he will one day, he matured since his first day as a Black Bull. But you can’t force him to be in love with someone else just like that. Be it Noelle or anyone else.”

“I know.”

“No, if you’ll excuse me, I promised the next dance to my mother-in-law.”

“You seem to get along very well with Finesses mother.”

“Lady Douce is honestly the nicest one in Finesses family and at least, she likes me truly. Can’t say the same about the rest of the Calmreichs and Kiras, though.”

Finral waved to her before he disappeared in the crowd. Vanessa sighed, searching for another person to talk to. She hated to be alone within a crowd.

She still hoped to get at least one glance at Nozel. Maybe talk to him even, but that seemed a bit like too much to ask. Surely he had duties on this wedding, as one of the three royal house heads. Vanessa had no idea what those duties were, but surely there had to be some.

She also hoped that he was fine. It was strange that she slightly started to care about him. Not yet as much like a Black Bull, but still more than someone from outside the squad she was friends with.

Was he looking at the invited nobles, searching for a candidate for an arranged marriage? Could he still choose as a head of house or was it something he had no power over?

Or was he instead trying to get his siblings away from possible suitors? Was Nozel trying to protect Noelle, Nebra and Solid from manipulative nobles?

Any of those possibilities didn’t felt out of place to Vanessa and she really didn’t like it. Hopefully he would also have good time on this wedding.

But does Nozel allow himself to have a good time in general?

Vanessa just continued to walk, looking at the crowd, searching for Nozel or someone else she knew and could talk to.

Charmy was at the buffet, of course. She probably ate at least half of it all by herself, knowing her. Asta and Magna where not too far away from Charmy, Luck was with them, trying to fight Magna who tried to avoid a fight. Asta just seemed to have a good time, smiling as he was. He was such a kind hearted person.

She saw captain Fuegoleon dancing with a purple haired woman she didn’t know. Maybe another noble lady, maybe one of the eligible candidates to be wed off to a royal. But that lady’s smile didn’t looked fake, so maybe it was a nice noble. Leopold Vermillion was dancing too and probably stepping on the feet of his dance partner, given the girls face.

Vanessa also saw captain Charlotte, looking gorgeous in her blue dress, standing with a group of women, near one of the tables. The captain of the Blue Roses looked kinda done, while the women around her seemed to be babbling happily. Vanessa hoped that they weren’t making fun of Charlotte.

Three months since the confession and there was still nothing new between Charlotte and Yami, as far as Vanessa could tell. It wasn’t even a topic talked within the Black Bulls, Asta and Magna even firmly believed that Charlotte loved Yami the same way the Bulls did. Only Finral and Gordon seemed to do something about it, as they started to visit the Blue Roses headquarters quite often since a few weeks.

It was frustrating, but Vanessa also felt guilty about it. She was over Yami, she realized that she didn’t loved him in a romantic way and even hoped that captain Charlotte would get together with him. But Vanessa hasn’t done anything to help Charlotte. She had no reason to not help her and still she didn’t. And she had no idea why she didn’t, she didn’t even disliked captain Charlotte, she didn’t even thought that the Blue Rose captain wouldn’t be the right one for captain Yami.

Maybe it was another thing she needed to do, after the wedding. Get a grip of herself and finally talk to Charlotte Roselei, offering her help to win over Yamis heart.

Suddenly, Vanessa discovered Noelle at another table, sitting with her cousin, Mimosa Vermillion. Noelle looked like she was complaining about something – Vanessa wanted to bet that maybe it has something to do with a certain magicless peasant and member of their squad – while Mimosa just listened to her with a comforting smile.

Probably she could sat with them. Vanessa always loved to spent time with Noelle and Mimosa Vermillion was such a nice girl to talk to. Besides, the pastries the cousins were eating looked really delicious.

But first, Vanessa would get herself a bottle wine and a glass. She still haven’t got the occasion to drink the whole day and given her reputation as the Drunken Witch, that was almost a crime.

But just as she was to get to the buffet table with the drinks, he just appeared right in front of her. Nozel Silva.

Vanessa just froze, as if she an ice magic user just put a spell on her and it looks quite the same for Nozel. His metallic purple eyes looked at her, but without the cold mask. Surprise was glowing in his glance. He kept his mouth shout, but somehow he looked like he was trying to say something.

Vanessa definitely wanted to say something, but her mind was kinda disconnected from the rest of her body. That never happened to her before, with anyone, especially if she wanted to say something teasy.

It somehow felt like a cruel irony. She didn’t find him while she was looking for him and when she wasn’t, he appeared right in front of her!

And why the hell was he looking so good?

His hairstyle hadn’t changed, even for the wedding, still that braid covering his forehead, but Vanessa definitely didn’t found it ridiculous anymore. Probably since Spade…

Nozel didn’t wear a smoking like Finral and like literally almost everyone else. It was a dark blue ceremonial uniform, with silver buttons and some silver embroidery on the sides, the sleeves and shoulders. The silva emblem was marked on the buttons, but the embroidery had a vaguely feather and bird theme. Maybe it was supposed to symbol eagles? It looked so simple, with the unicoloured dark blue trousers and the black boots, and still so royal. But the best part was probably the short one shoulder cape, in the same dark blue as the uniform, with a simple silver border and silvery like fur attached to the shoulder, a bit like most of the Silver Eagle robes.

Gosh, why wasn’t he wearing darker colours more often? It suited him so well, he looked pale but not in a sickly way, he was more like glowing. He looked definitely more royal than the king, who was covered in jewels and such gaudy clothes that it hurt the eyes.

Just for a second, Vanessa regretted that she was just wearing a second hand and simple dark burgundy dress and that she decided to let her hair down and free. It couldn’t hold a candle to the colourful satin and silk dresses and the complicated hairstyles of the noble ladies. It was her best dress, she loved having her hair falling free on her shoulders and she looked actually pretty well for her best friend’s wedding, but it still wasn’t on at least low nobility level.

Just a second… But one more look at Nozel made her forget those silly issues. There wasn’t disappointment or reproval in his eyes and behind the surprise in his eyes, Vanessa hoped that he liked what he saw.

Wait, why do I even care about that?

Vanessa barely paid attention to the people around them. She heard some coughing and whispers, some music in the background, but everything was so blurry in her ears. And her eyes too, only Nozel was perfectly visible.

Holy witch hat, what was happening to her? That wasn’t normal, she hadn’t felt that way in Spade either. Or did she? She couldn’t tell. For some reason, the memory was blurry, while it had been so perfectly clear during three months.

For a pretty long moment, at least in her shoes, they were staring at each other, the tension almost thick enough to be cut with a knife.

But just before it definitely would have become awkward, Nozel finally looked away, breaking… whatever that tension was. But after a short cough, he put his eyes back on Vanessa, looking somehow determined and a bit scared at the same time. And was that a slight blush on his cheeks?

But before Vanessa got a grip on herself and tease him about the blush, Nozel bowed curtly in front of her and extended his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

“That would be lovely.”

Before Vanessa actually realized what happened, her body and her tongue already acted on their own and Nozel was leading her to the dancefloor.

♣♣♣

“Come on, Charlotte, my dear. Just because this is a royal wedding doesn’t mean that there can’t be some eligible lords or even royals for you to choose.”

Charlotte tried her best to hold back a role of her eyes, not bothering to answer Florence Roselei, one of her countless aunts.

“She’s right, my sweet cousin,” lady Cunégonde added, a distant relative from house Ceres, who was actually over twenty years older than Charlotte. “You’re so close to thirty and not married yet. Oh, I heard that lord Aquarius from house Seashell is actually finally looking to find a wife and since you’re about the same age… I heard that he is quite handsome.”

And lord Aquarius Seashell was probably also searching for a wife with a very important dowry, in order to pay his countless gambler depts. It reminded Charlotte almost of Yami, but lord Aquarius was still someone of a different kind. Yami still has respect, while Aquarius was always a jerk, it didn’t matter if he win or lose.

Once a member of the Silver Eagles, Aquarius Seashell lost both his Magic Knight robe, his salary and more than half of his mother’s jewellery in just one hour of gambling and betting. Nozel kicked him out of the Silver Eagles three days after, rightfully so. After all, it was not every day that Nozel got the occasion to get rid of the Magic Knights who just had the title, never came to work and let more capable knights, even their own captain, overwork themselves to compensate their own lack of work.

Charlotte wasn’t interested in gossip, but you just couldn’t avoid them when you were a noble, even if you wanted to. Not to mention that most of the Blue Roses loved gossip and often told her about every kind of rumour they heard. But to be fair, the gossip of the Blue Rose knights were far more joyful and fun than the ones Charlotte heard from other nobles.

“Not a bad choice, I have to admit,” lady Rosamund Roselei replied, an aunt married to one of Charlottes father’s many brothers. Or cousins? “But I think that lord Reginald of house Évantail is the better choice here, he was widowed last year, the poor man. A new wife would surely cheer him up.”

Which would be wife number six and given that the previous four always died at some point or another, it wasn’t really a comforting perspective. Not to mention that lord Reginald had already children from each one of his marriages and his oldest daughter was five years older than Charlotte.

“Oh, what about lord Cumulus from house Wolke?” asked Josephine, Charlottes fifteen year old cousin, who was naïve and rather nice, but already got one of the worst snobbish attitudes in the family.

“Impossible, my dear,” Florence replied, “He’s already married and if I remember correctly, lady Ludivina, his young wife, is pregnant with their first child. Sixth or seventh months, I think, after all she isn’t present today.”

“Ludivina can still die at childbirth, it wouldn’t be a big miss within nobility and lord Cumulus would be free for a new bride,” Rosamund said, subtly clothing her words with venom.

Charlotte clenched her fists. She always hated her aunt Rosamund and her viper tongue. Always trying to paint others dirty in all subtility, most of the time just for her own joy.

But just as she was about to reply, lady Orchidea Roselei, her own mother, said, “Those are all mostly eligible candidates, I have to say. But those are nobles and I still hope for my daughter to get married into royalty.”

Oh, please, not THAT topic again!

“Charlotte, my dear child, given your reputation and how far you came as a Magic Knight, I actually think that marrying into royalty wouldn’t be too much for you. And imagine your suitor would be lord Nozel or lord Fuegoleon. You already know them, so the usual period to get to know your future husband would be short and you could get married quite rapidly.”

Charlotte wanted to say no, to scream no. No, she couldn’t possibly marry either Nozel or Fuegoleon. They were her colleagues as squad captains! At best, they were friends, but she couldn’t consider any of them as a potential spouse, someone to spent her life with!

Not to mention that she wasn’t in love with any of them both. But love was never considered important for nobility when it came to arranged marriages. And the only captain, the only person Charlotte could imagine spend the rest of her life with, was a foreigner, considered almost less than a peasant, captain of the Magic Knight Squad with the worst reputation and he was dense, so dense…

“That is actually such an excellent idea, Orchidea!” Cunégonde said enthusiastically. “Marrying into royalty would be such a great opportunity for house Roselei and house Ceres as well, given our relations.”

“Oh, I know that, cousin.”

“But which one of the two?” Florence asked, letting her pale green eyes wander over the dancefloor, probably searching for either Nozel or Fuegoleon. “Lord Nozel is already Head of House and still not married. But lord Fuegoleon is so in charge, so charismatic and he even got chosen by the Fire Spirit Salamander himself. But Nozel has such a reputation of a prefect royal. But Fuegoleon has done less questionable decisions for his house. But lord Nozel has more admirers within the kingdom. But there’s no scandal involving lord Fuegoleon. But-“

But Nozel, but Fuegoleon… Florence had the questionable talent to find any potential flaws within others, especially when it came to royals. Charlotte looked away for a second, in order to roll her eyes without any of her relatives seeing it.

“Is lord Fuegoleon still available, though?” Josephine asked. “I‘ve only seen him dancing with Lital Lys during the ball and this is their third dance.”

She was right. Charlotte took a quick look at Fuegoleon, who was indeed waltzing with lady Lital of house Lys, a beautiful young woman with dark purple hair and nacreous eyes.

Third dance already? Charlotte knew that by noble society standards, it would mean that a serious courting was taken place. But Charlotte had no idea that Fuegoleon intended to settle down and get married. And if a royal was courting a noble lady, the Head of this lady’s house would at least brag about it. The Head of house Lys, lord Basilio, was known to be a great bragger and to use anything to his advantage to make himself and his house shine in society.

But Charlotte didn’t hear any rumour or gossip about lord Basilio Lys bragging about captain Fuegoleon Vermillion courting a member of his house. Would it mean that Fuegoleon and Lital didn’t go the usual way, maybe they were even directly dating? Given how they smiled at each other, it was probably true.

Charlotte hoped that it was true. And she also hoped that they could make it official and be betrothed soon, so that the women of her family would have one candidate less to try to pair her up with. If Nozel could find someone too, it would be perfect.

But of course, Rosamunds venomous tongue had to intervene again. “House Lys might be from high nobility, but it is an open secret that Lital is a bastard. She can’t be a candidate for a royal. Goodness, I’ll never understand why lady Corazòn took her husband’s bastard in to begin with.”

Maybe because lady Corazòn Lys was one of the rare noble ladies with nobility in her heart and who didn’t put the blame of her husband’s infidelity on a child, like someone else I know?

Charlotte would have loved to say this out loud, but she knew from experience that it would end ugly for her to directly counter Rosamund Roselei.

“But isn’t lady Lital the only one of Basilios grandchildren to have inherited his late mother’s star magic? You know how he loves to brag about the family hero of their house.”

“Just a detail, Florence. Just a detail. Lital only has that and nothing else. I mean, look at her.”

“I actually find her very beautiful, even if her dress isn’t from Soie Velours” Charlotte replied as neutral as possible. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to powder my nose.”

Which meant that she needed to flee this uncomfortable family circle before she went mad. Charlotte immediately walked away before any of those ladies could hold her back.

“Don’t take too long, Charlotte dear, I still need to present you to lord Reginald.”

“Do you want me to reserve a dance with lord Nozel or lord Fuegoleon, my sweet daughter?”

Charlotte heard Rosamund and Orchidea very well, but she refused to answer them, she just walked away.

She only stopped when she found an alcove in an empty corridor, just near the toilets. Hopefully she would be left alone. She would need some time before having the nerves to face her mother and her relatives again.

Charlotte always hated those talks about her getting married, but after Spade, she got to endure more of them than all those combined since her fifteenth birthday.

Somehow, there were more marital talks within noble circles than before the raid. As if nobles were afraid to lose any chances of good alliances, especially marital ones, if something like the Spade raid happened again. Charlotte couldn’t understand such a stupid fear and even if she wanted to, she probably won’t be able.

And of course, those talks also didn’t stop with house Roselei. Lady Orchidea always wished for Charlotte to get married into an advantageous alliance, another noble house or even into royalty, and now that aunts and cousins and any other relatives came on board, Charlotte had to drown herself in work in order to keep those talks to the strict minimum.

Charlotte wasn’t against marriage, not at all. But the vision nobility had of it was something she despised. It was just alliances between houses, political, financial, to hide some scandals. Love never had a place within arranged marriages. Those were always concluded between the houses, the newlyweds never had a say. Or at least one of them, if the other one already had some kind of power.

Having been in love for ten years, Charlotte knew that she couldn’t accept to marry someone she didn’t love, despite all the advantages house Roselei could gain from it. It just wasn’t right in her book. But she certainly was the only one in her family to see it that way. Even Josephine, despite her naivety, already got her say on which houses the Roseleis should get an alliance through marriage and which ones they shouldn’t.

Being one of the most renown single members of her house – and also one of the rare Roseleis to not be tainted by any scandal, despite the curse – Charlotte had the most pressure about those kinds of talks. She almost missed when it was mostly her mother talking about it. At least, lady Orchidea cared a bit that her daughter has to find some kind of happiness with her future spouse. But now that the rest of her relatives pushed their own agenda on the subject, Charlotte felt like a tool in their schemes.

House Roselei was from high nobility and financially pretty stable. But they were also one of the noble houses with most scandals to their name. One reason why a prolific, advantageous marital alliance was needed in their eyes.

Aunt Rosamund, who cheated on her husband because he cheated on her – honestly, it was hard to definite who started it and both were so selfish people anyway – to a point that one of her children was not from her husband, but from another noble. And that was just a normal scandal for house Roselei.

As well as her father’s own scandal…

Charlotte hid her face behind her hands. She hated to remember, but she still didn’t want to forget that fateful day. When that woman from the Forsaken Realm came at the Roselei mansion with a baby in her arms. Her father’s bastard. That poor woman demanded to speak to lord Fidel Roselei, probably to help her and their child, but Charlottes father just throw her out, calling her with names she didn’t deserved.

Lord Fidel never knew, but Charlotte learned that day that her father cheated on her mother, that he had a bastard child and that he just throw the mother and said child away, like a broken toy. He never knew that Charlotte learned that day that she had a sibling out there, somewhere and that his behaviour was the reason why she became distant towards him.

Charlotte never knew what happened to that poor woman, she never knew if she had a brother or a sister. She had no idea what their names were, if they were still alive, if they still lived in Clover or in another country.

Her father’s scandal, her own curse… Charlotte had many reasons why she tried to be strong on her own, without the help of any man. She was proud of what she had accomplished until now, as a Magic Knight, as a captain. She lived like that for long…

But something changed after Spade… something that couldn’t be seen, but it was there. Her family’s talks about to get her finally married, it still was getting on her nerves, but not like it did before.

Her love for Yami just got stronger and deeper after the tearful confession. And she still hasn’t do anything to make a step forward. Yami was still so dense, almost nothing changed between them. A notable change was that Finral Vaude and Gordon Agrippa actually got that she confessed her love and were now visiting the Blue Roses quite often, in order to help Charlotte to get closer to Yami. Much to the Blue Roses joy.

Asta and Magna were still talking to her as one of captain Yamis friends, but the rest of the Bulls never mentioned the love confession and Charlotte had no idea what to think about it. She also refused to overthink that fact, because he would freak her out and that was the last thing she needed right now.

Between her family trying to get her somehow to the altar and how she had no idea how to continue with her feelings for Yami, between the afterward of the war and the duties as captain, Charlotte felt lost.

She couldn’t continue like that. Uncertainty didn’t help her and she really needed someone to confide in. She really needed to lean more on people she trusted.

How ironic was it that Yami of all people never stopped to tell her that?

Charlotte sighed deeply. She really wanted to finally settle things with Yami. She couldn’t continue to live like that, her feelings locked inside of her. It was easier said than done, but Charlotte wished every day more and more to finally get that burden out of her heart.

Of course, she couldn’t tell if Yami would love her back or not, she had no idea how she would take it if her love was only one-sided. But she felt herself also unable to think that far.

Am I somehow contradicting myself?

She really needed to make a decision, whatever this decision might be in the end. But would she be able to make it now, in her nervous state?

“Prickly Queen?”

Charlotte yelped and turned around, even though she recognize that nickname and that voice immediately. There was only one person in the entire world to call her that way.

Yami Sukehiro stepped out of the toilets, facing her with an unreadable glance.

♣♣♣

What was he doing? What was he thinking?

Nozel couldn’t help but ask those two question again and again while he danced with Vanessa Enoteca, the Black Bulls witch.

And also immediately felt ashamed to have those thoughts, because it sounded so impolite in his books. Especially since he asked her.

“You’re alright, handsome?”

Vanessa just looked at him with a teasing glance, but also a bit of concern. The same concern he saw in Spade…

“I’m fine. I apologize for being distracted.”

“Distracted? Couldn’t tell, you’re still leading perfectly.”

Not that she mentioned it, it was true. Nozel was still leading her perfectly through the waltz. There had been no out-of-step chaos coming from them. Unlike his cousin Kirsch, who couldn’t help to pose during his own waltz, to the utter irritation of the noble lady he was dancing with and the other dance couples near him.

Nozel had made sure that Vanessa and he wouldn’t waltz near Kirsch.

Glancing back at Vanessa, Nozel couldn’t help but remember again their talk in Spade. Honestly, their encounter after the raid always came back to his mind since those last three months. It didn’t help that she called him every day directly on his own communication device and she became mostly the one the Black Bulls sent when the needed to bring a report for the Silver Eagles. During her visits, Noelle even mentioned that Vanessa always asked about him when she came back.

Whenever she talked to him, be it through the device or on the rare occasions they crossed paths at the Silver Eagles headquarters, it was always teasing, probably also what others called flirting. But behind that playful tone, Nozel also believed to hear some concern.

The same concern he heard in her voice during their talk in Spade…

And Nozel didn’t understood that. Why would a witch feel concerned about him? Their status were too different, their ranks as Magic Knights as well. She was part of Yamis squad, who didn’t care about status and reputation – one of the reasons why he sent Noelle to Black Bulls in the first place. Speaking of Noelle, the witch definitely knew… She had a good reason to not talk to him, to hate him even.

But she didn’t.

In Spade, she made him talk, she made him open up a bit, to let go partly of his mask. Nozel wasn’t used to that. Not since he lost his mother. But Vanessa talked to him in a way that he wanted to confide to her.

At least partly. Nozel was so used to keep up his cold mask for over seventeen years, it was impossible to let go of it. Or so he thought.

It just had been a bit. Just a bit of letting go. Just a bit… and Nozel had felt something melt within him.

Which wasn’t good. He didn’t deserve it. That kind of concern, the invitation of confide in, to let go of his burden, to open his heart to someone. After everything he had done, after making Nebra, Solid and especially Noelle suffer, for all the mistakes he’d made, he didn’t deserved it. Nozel knew that, he knew that for over a decade. He lived like this since his mother died, since he became Head of House. He had no other choice than to continue.

But something changed since Spade. After he returned, it became more difficult to live like that. Oh, Nozel continued to try to make amends with Noelle and despite everything, it meant a lot to him that his little sister seemed to love to visit him more often. It was still awkward, but they were both trying.

Nozel also wanted to make amends with Nebra and Solid, to finally tell them the truth about how their mother. Something he should have done a long time ago. Another mistake on his countless list. At least, now that the curse had been lifted, Nozel didn’t need to send them to Dorothy and her Glamour World. Besides, he needed to do it by himself.

Solid didn’t quite understood, he probably still didn’t. Nozel always found that his younger brother was difficult to talk to. Solid didn’t really changed his attitude since then, something Nozel clearly didn’t liked.

Nebra, on the other hand, had caused a tantrum and had been extremely mad at him for never telling her, rightfully so. But she still forgave him, just like Noelle. Something Nozel still tried to understand why his sisters had forgiven him, especially since he didn’t deserved it. Nebra also tried to make amends with Noelle. They weren’t there yet, for now his sisters only met when he was present as well, but Nozel wanted to believe that it was already better since they discovered their common secret passion for spooky novels. Why did Nebra and Noelle liked this kind of literature in the first place.

But those were changes that needed to be done. What Nozel felt was another change, something he didn’t realized was taking place. It was within him, but he couldn’t tell what exactly. Except that he has to do with the Black Bull’s witch and how there was always something like care in her teasing voice every time she talked to him.

Nozel tried to ignore her calls and her attempts of small talk at first. It was less because he couldn’t accept that someone out of his circles was acting so casually with him, more because… he didn’t deserve that kindness, that care. In fact, it even scared him a bit. Which was so utterly pathetic of him. Being afraid of kindness someone was showing to him. It still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t deserved it.

He really was pathetic.

But Vanessa was stubborn, she wouldn’t let go, so he not really had any other choice than to give in. Maybe he also didn’t defend himself that much against that kindness. Maybe he couldn’t help but wanting that.

But he shouldn’t, it was selfish of him, his duty and his guilt didn’t allowed it.

He felt so contradictory. What was wrong with him lately?

Vanessa was giggling, making Nozel looking at her. She was so clearly happy to be here, she was enjoying herself.

With him of all people.

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing, cap’, nothing at all. It just happens that I giggle without any reason.”

“Is that even possible?”

“With me it is. Just ask Noelle next time she visits. Speaking of Noelle, she told me that she’s starting to meet with her sister as well. But she’s not telling me much details. Is it fine?”

The tone changed so suddenly that Nozel almost stopped waltzing. There was concern for Noelle in her voice, but also some distrust. Surely towards Nebra, but probably also towards him.

He didn’t liked that.

“It’s getting better, from what I witnessed. They discovered a common passion, which helped. But for now, Nebra and Noelle only met in my presence. They’re still quite unsure around each other and honestly, I’d rather stay with them until they feel more comfortable around each other.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m sure those meetings won’t go south under your watch.”

Nozel would have expected sarcasm, the same distrust. But there wasn’t any in Vanessas voice.

“You think so?”

“Yes. You’re trying and you already got some success in my books. And it means so much for Noelle. I just hope you’re not too harsh on yourself.”

She gave him a gorgeous smile. Not a smirk, no teasing or anything, a real smile. One of the most beautiful smile Nozel ever saw.

I don’t deserve it.

But I also don’t want her to stop.

The waltz continued and they danced silently, just enjoying the music. It felt so peaceful, Nozel almost wished that this dance wouldn’t stop. It was such a nice feeling.

A feeling he didn’t deserved, Nozel reminded himself.

From the corner of his eye, he saw some random nobles standing beside the dancefloor. Looking at him. Judging him, frowning. Because he was dancing with the Drunken Witch of the Black Bulls.

Nozel was used to be judged, to be criticized by nobles and most royals. It had been like this since he was fifteen, since he took over house Silva the very same day he got his grimoire. Those judging eyes of nobility always had been subtle, he still managed to get a reputation of perfect royal and Head of House. But Nozel could still feel the glances, he always had and it would never change.

They could judge him all they wanted, he didn’t care anymore. But he didn’t like that Vanessa was also judged. For some reason, it even made him sick.

To Nozels dismay, Vanessa did saw those glances as well.

“Geez, what’s wrong with those people? This is supposed to be a happy party, not to look like cats that got their milk stolen.”

“Maybe because they wanted me to dance with one of their daughters or nieces, I believe. Nobles always try to marry some member of their houses into royalty. Especially my family.”

Nozel sighed in resignation. He got marriage proposals for him or his siblings every day and if wouldn’t have been vital to maintain good relations with many of the noble houses, he would have threw all of them in the fire.

Sadly, this was also something that just got louder after Spade. He got surely ten times more marriage proposals when he returned, for Nebra and Solid, for Noelle too, although the reasons were different, but still despicable. And for him… Worse, king Augustus and Achilles Vermillion, Fuegoleons grandfather and head of house Vermillion, came to talk to him about that topic personally. Especially Achilles couldn’t help to do one of his favourite hobbies… putting shade on house Silva and subtly pointing all the mistakes Nozel made in his opinion, while also referencing how perfect his father was, despite that he only married into royalty.

Nozel closed his eyes for a second. He refused to think about his father. He always refused to think about his father and today was no exception.

“You seem to dislike it, handsome.”

Nozel opened his eyes quickly, focusing back on Vanessa. She eyes were on him, looking concerned.

Again.

Nozel swiftly swallowed his guilt. He was so used to that feeling for years, but now he could feel it heavier on his heart.

“That nobles wants to marry into your family. You already hated it back in Spade.”

“I always hated it. Ever since I took over the house and I was fifteen back then. Some nobles are even bold enough to send the same proposals at least five times in a day.”

There was it against, the urge to confide, to open his heart a bit. Why did she have that trusting aura around her? And why didn’t he mind it?

“No respect for boundaries, I see. It’s weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always thought that nobles respected royalty. But the way you tell me this, it seems that they have the same disrespect for royalty as for peasants and commoners.”

“I won’t say that it’s the same kind of disrespect.”

“It’s still disrespect. I had no idea, because it never looked like it.”

“It is more complex behind the scenes.”

Vanessa just hummed. She looked thoughtful. Nozel didn’t liked that they had this kind of conversation during a waltz. He didn’t want to think about despicable marriage proposals, he didn’t want to think about his duty to get married and give heirs to house Silva, in order to give his siblings a freedom he would never have. He just wanted to enjoy the dance with her, forget the world around them.

What was wrong with him?

“Have you find someone new?”

He couldn’t help but ask. Nozel never forgot what she told him back in Spade. How she had a crush on someone and got her heartbroken, how she never realized that she already moved on and cling on it, just to realize that she wasn’t in love as someone else confessed to that person.

That realization seemed to be still a lot to process for her. Vanessa clearly needed to think about it deeply. Nozel couldn’t but feel compassion for her, more than he should have.

For the first time in his life, he cared for someone who wasn’t a member of his family or at least one of his knights. He didn’t know why, even if he should. But Nozel couldn’t help but feel for her.

Vanessas story reminded him more than it should the relationship between his parents. It wasn’t really the same situation, but like Vanessa, his mother was in love with his father and despite the fact that he clearly would never returned her feelings, Acier hold years onto that delusion. A memory that pained Nozels heart, he would never wished something like that to anyone else.

Nozel looked more closely at Vanessa. She was definitely a beautiful woman. Objectively speaking. Her eyes purple like his, but a different shade, shining like amethysts between those perfect eyelashes. She didn’t have a complicated hairstyle like most women today, her curls fell freely on her shoulders, in the most beautiful rosewood shade Nozel ever saw. Her skin was soft as silk and softly pale like porcelain, while her cheeks had the colour of pale pink rose petals. She even smelled like roses, a subtle perfume. The dress she was wearing clearly didn’t came from Soie Velours, the most renown modiste in the Clover kingdom, but she looked so much better in that simple burgundy dress than many noble ladies in their overly frilly and complicated looking gowns. Her smiles were gorgeous and most importantly, she was also kind and caring, so free.

If she wanted to be in a relationship, she deserved someone more than good for her.

“No, I haven’t,” Vanessa answered, a small smile on her lips. “I have decided to put my love life on a different path, that’s for sure. But I take it slow, I won’t stress myself about it. Besides, it’s my best friend’s wedding today, so I didn’t really had the time. Which is not a bad thing.”

“Finral Roulacase is your best friend?”

“Yep. I’m really happy that he got to marry the love of his life. I know it’s an arranged marriage, but they’re so lucky to be in love still.”

“They are. It is sadly a rarity.”

“Maybe, but I hope it will be the same for you, if it happens.”

Nozel looked at her, surprised. But Vanessa just smiled at him, maybe a little sad, maybe compassionate, but genuine. Nozel had no idea what to say, so he just nodded.

They continued to dance, not talking anymore. Nozel wished again for the waltz to not stop. This was actually the best thing of this royal wedding.

But of course, the music had to stop.

The other couples around them left the dancefloor, leaving it for other dancers. But Nozel couldn’t go away. He couldn’t leg of that moment, a rare instance of peace in his life.

But he needed to. It wasn’t proper and he didn’t deserved it in the first place.

“Um, honey?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you think you should let go of my hand?”

Puzzled, Nozel looked down, only to discover that he was indeed still holding her hand. He really should let go. Vanessa couldn’t spend the whole ball with him, she said that this was her best friend’s wedding and she surely wanted to celebrate with the Black Bulls more than with him.

But…

Bringing her hand up to his mouth, Nozel softly blow a kiss upon the back of it. It wasn’t more than like the touch of a butterfly, but somehow it felt like a spark through his entire body.

“Thanks for the dance… handsome.”

“You’re welcome, miss Enoteca.”

Usually, Vanessa laughed and said that he should called her just “Vanessa”. But this time, she didn’t. Did she felt it too? Or was it just an illusion?

Nozel didn’t even wait for an answer, as he turned away, leaving the dancefloor. And holding his hand. He could still feel something electric in it, pulsing right into his entire body and it just wouldn’t stop?

What is wrong with me?

♣♣♣

“What are you doing here, Yami?”

“Attending one of my brats wedding?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Charlotte looked away, clearly offended. Yami couldn’t help but smirk at this sight.

“Well, wedding or not, a fearless battle can’t wait and I haven’t taken a dump since yesterday evening, not to mention that a boring dance party like that is the perfect occasion to go take a shi-“

“Don’t say that, you disgusting brute!”

“Hey, that hurts my delicate little heart here. And you wanted to know.”

“I don’t need to know the details of your… your… bowel habits, thank you very much.”

“Why so grossed out about something very natural, Prickly Queen? It’s not like you don’t do it at all.”

“Just because something is natural doesn’t mean that it needs to be told in public.”

“But we’re alone, Prickly Queen.”

“And? Doesn’t change anything to what I just said!”

Charlotte crossed her arms and turned her back to him. Yami smirked again. Now that was the reaction he was looking for. He clearly missed that.

Back from Spade, Yami had the unsettling feeling that something changed. Not on the surface, so first he thought it was just his imagination. But the unsettling feeling refused to leave him, so maybe the changes were more under the surface.

It was mostly due to the fact that Finral and Gordon started to visit the Blue Roses quite often and somewhat tried to talk to him about Charlotte. Given their Ki’s, they wanted to say more than they actually did, but Yami couldn’t pinpoint what they could want from him.

Maybe something like Asta and Magna? Those two were quite direct and somehow got the idea that Charlotte didn’t hate him and wanted to be his friend. Apparently, Charlotte did say something like that back in Spade. But no one else were talking about that, not even Finral and Gordon. Plus, Asta and Magna were such idiots, so Yami didn’t really paid attention about what they pretended.

Still, during those three months, Charlotte became quite distant with him, speaking so rarely even at those boring captains meeting. Heck, even Braids had been less distant than her after the whole Spade raid. Yami had feared for a moment that he did something wrong.

But given her reaction, it clearly had nothing to do with him and that was a real relief. Maybe she had a lot to do with the aftermath of the raid. Charlotte always took her job as captain way too seriously for his liking, she really needed to chill out more.

Charlotte was wearing a blue dress he already saw once. Wasn’t that the same one of the dinner party a few months ago, when she jumped out of a window after touching him?

“Still having this one, huh? I already told you that must get chilled in this frilly dress.”

“No, I don’t get cold. And I don’t care if you don’t like it.”

“Hey, I never said that I don’t like that frilly thing, don’t get insulted! It does look good on you at least, don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Why haven’t you told me that back then, at the dinner party?”

“I thought it was obvious that it looks good on you, no one said that to you?”

“My knights told me, it was even them who chose it in the first place.”

“Well, then I didn’t need to say it, you can trust your girls.”

“Haven’t you even thought about that a compliment would have still felt nice?”

“Nah, not my style.”

“Sadly.”

She turned her back to him again, arms still crossed.

Yami was stunned for a moment. Did he upset her somehow? That wasn’t his intention. He liked to tease her, since it was so easy to, but never would he dare to upset Charlotte.

“My mother wanted to get me a new dress, especially for the wedding, but I refused. I’m the only one in my family who didn’t want a new one, everyone else had spent days at the atelier of Soie Velours to get a new gown for the occasion.”

“Soy… who know?”

“Soie Velours, the most renown modiste in the kingdom, at least for nobility.”

“Ah? Never heard of her. No wonder if she’s working from stick-ass nobles.”

“Didn’t at least Finral Roulacase talked about her?”

“Maybe, but I don’t wear dresses, so I probably didn’t listened.”

Charlotte sighed again and given her Ki, it could either mean she was still upset or understanding. Knowing Charlotte, Yami was sure it was the first.

“This dress here isn’t from Soie Velours,” she suddenly spoke, caressing her dress. “But my family doesn’t know it. Otherwise they would have never allowed to wear it. But I only wear it once, at the dinner party and I’m quite fond of it. There are some good memories bond to it.”

“If it’s a dress you girls gifted to you, no wonder you have some good memories of it.”

“I wasn’t talking about my knights! Well, not only.”

“Huh? Don’t tell me that you have good memories of that dinner back then.”

“Well, of course I have!”

Geez, why though? Surely not because of him, Yami was certain. The food was definitely good, so there was that. Good food were always bond to become good memories, it might be definitely the food.

“Did you enjoy the wedding?” Charlotte asked suddenly. Yami frowned a bit, since when was she the first to try small talk with him?

“My wheels is happy to finally get married to his lady love, no one can’t take that away. But else… it’s a stick-ass royal noble party and if it weren’t for Finral and his girl who’s quite nice, I don’t think I would have shown up. My brats were excited though, nothing can hold them back to celebrate. Maybe I should’ve let them present the Bulls and staid at the hideout. Missed occasion, really, it is rare to have a calm moment at the hideout. For once, no one would have disturbed me while taking a dump.”

“Yami, please!”

Yami just laughed. Gosh, he really missed that attitude of hers. In the end, nothing had changed between them.

Right?

But before he could have any doubts, Charlotte spoke again, “To be honest with you, I don’t like being here either. More because my whole family is here as well and the other single members of house Roselei always hope to snatch a potential future spouse during such an event.”

“Well, can’t be you, then. After all, you’re married to the battlefield,” Yami laughed, happy to use this old joke again.

Even though it felt somehow out of place right now.

“This is not true, Yami, and you should-“

Charlotte froze.

Yami froze.

He hadn’t realized how close they were. In fact, he never had been this close to her in his whole life. Geez, this close, Yami couldn’t help but just stare at her.

Did she always had those perfectly full lips? Had her jawline always been so delicate? He already knew that she had a rather pale skin, but never did Yami realized how shining it was, especially with those red cheeks, just like red roses. Her was looking like bright gold or vanilla cream or a winter sun, depending on the lights…

Okay, since when was he so corny? Did he took not enough dumps for today? Had there been something in the food Charmy made for the buffet? Of course he knew that Charlotte was pretty, objectively. Noelle and Vanessa were pretty too, and Sleepy Hat as well. Yami knew plenty of pretty women, Charlotte was not special on that just because she had… such big beautiful eyes, between perfectly long eyelashes and in a very special blue that seems… kinda familiar? And her smell, geez, it was nothing too much like roses, surprisingly. A more spicy note was more covering the roses, somehow.

“Do you have a new perfume, Prickly Queen?”

“What? No, no I don’t!”

And with that, Charlotte just run away screaming, like she usually did. Only that Yami wasn’t that reassured about her reaction. More like confused. And maybe a bit hurt.

So much for nothing changed, he thought as he went back towards the ballroom. What just happened between them, while there were so close… Somehow it was a spark, definitely new, but what kind of new. Yami had no idea and he didn’t liked it.

Something had changed since his return from Spade. There was no denying about that anymore. But what exactly? Yami had no answers right now and it really pissed him off.

Back to the ball, Yami started to look for Charlotte. He really wanted to talk to her, even though he had no idea about what. Just that something needed to be settled between them. But she was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Yami saw Vanessa kinda turning and dancing around, probably drunk, but not her usual drunkenness. Weird. And wasn’t there Nozel on the other side of the room, holding his hand like he was hurt or something?

Okay, Yami definitely had the feeling that he was missing something and of course, he had no idea what it was. In the end, maybe it was better to not pain his head with complex thoughts for today. He was already feeling worn out and the ball wasn’t even over yet.

“I’ll better deal with that stuff later. This should be future Yamis problem, not mine.”

#Black Clover #Black Clover Fanfiction #Silver Cats & Black Roses #My Writing ☘️♣️ #Nozessa #YamiChar #Vanessa Enoteca #Nozel Silva #Charlotte Roselei #Yami Sukehiro #Nozel x Vanessa #Yami x Charlotte #Final Roulacase

[noneedtoamputate]

Miscellaneous Tag Game

Thanks for the tag, @ronald-speirs.

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?: Australia

Something you’re proud of yourself for?: For making it through a difficult time in my life with a greater understanding how hard life it and a greater compassion for people

Favorite books?: Circle of Friends by Maeve Binchy, The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes, Say Goodnight, Gracie by Julie Reece Deaver

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?: My child's hugs and a night in my 20s when I was in the car with my friend and "Dancing in the Dark" came on when we were at stoplight and we started singing at the top of our lungs with carefree abandon. A car with people in their 50s next to us laughed and cheered us on. Now that I am closer to their age than the age I was when I was in the car, I understand the joy they felt at watching us.

Favorite thing about your culture?: Americans are weird that we consider ourselves from somewhere else. My great-grandparents were from Eastern Europe, and my favorite thing about that is the food. My favorite thing about being American is diversity we have here, and Independence Day. I know it's not poltically correct to say one loves Independence Day, but I do. Parades, baseball, day drinking, cookouts, fireworks - Americana all in one day.

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?: I joined the fandom rather recently in the summer of 2023, but I watched BoB when it first aired. I just watched The Pacific over the summer.

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?: I've read Band of Brothers and bits of pieces of others. My favorite is "Easy Company Solider" by Don Malarkey. I just borrowed "Helmet for My Pillow" on audiobook read by James Badge Dale.

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?: I can't pick one favorite, but one of my favorite moments is when Tipper goes along when Luz pretends to be Major Horton. He wants to laugh so much.

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?: I am in the middle of a series called "Every Beautiful Thing" featuring Chuck and an OFC in postwar San Francisco.

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?: I love Tom Hanks ("A League of Their Own"), Jimmy Stewart ("It's a Wonderful Life"), Ingrid Bergman ("Casablanca") and Jodie Foster ("Silence of the Lambs")

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?: "The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off." -Gloria Steinem

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?: You want me on your trivia team.

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?: I've never had a beta and would be happy to let anyone read my WIP.

Three things that make you smile?: Finding money in a coat pocket the first time I wear it in the fall, little kids trying to play baseball or softball, a really cold beer on a hot day

Any nicknames you like?: My dad used to call me Pumpkin when I was little.

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!: There are so many, but some people off the top of my head are @xxluckystrike, @the-cinnamontography-is-amazing, @dcyllom, @latibvles, and @jump-wings.

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?: Find the best people and do what I can to earn my keep in their group

Favorite movie?: Too hard to pick one but two of my favorites not listed above are "The Sound of Music" and "Hoosiers." I recently watched "1917" and the way the it was filmed like one continuous shot was really innovative.

Do you like horror movies?: I don't like slasher films, but I like psychological horror films. My husband made me watch "The Shining" about ten years ago, and it scared the crap out of me,

#meme game

[heketsbroodau]

The Bishops

Someone asked the discord server how we characterised the Bishops, so here's mine (Narinder is still a wip).

To preface this follows the order of Shamura > Narinder > Heket > Kallamar > Leshy (it's not canon until it's in the game fight me).

Shamura

Rehabilitated from a God of War into a God of Knowledge. Before Narinder, Shamura was callous towards to mortals, seeing them as pawns to be used in their wars and schemes. Sometimes they would “play” with them to see how much they could endure before they “broke”.

After Narinder, Shamura learned to love and protect. Now Shamura is indifferent to mortals, seeing them as a means to an end, or as tools to be used as they see fit. But while tools may be used, they can also be taken care of, and even cherished. This is a viewpoint they have impressed upon their siblings to varying degrees of success.

The embodiment of patience. Shamura retains the cold and calculating nature of their early days in that they are very slow to anger or even irritate, and have rarely had need to raise their voice. When angered however, their anger is cold and their words or actions are precise and devastating.

As the eldest sibling, they rarely show vulnerability in front of their siblings.

Shamura's hobbies include reading and writing, forging (and sparring with) weapons and continuing to perfect the art of war that is taught to all their followers in the neverending fight against the heretics.

Heket

Heket operates on the idea of equivalent retribution/retaliation. Her punishments can be creative and cruel, and she is perfectly willing to inflict them on children if the occasion calls for it, but she must usually be provoked first.

She also has a warmth to her that will emerge in the company of her family, and even (though rarely) her most trusted followers, but it is subdued, in that Heket does not gush, nor is she overly affectionate, but will smile and often offer a comforting touch.

She can be quick to anger before being quick to violence. Usually this comes across as snarled speech and stern or cutting words. Violence will follow after this if not heeded, but she'll respond with violence to an offender that is particularly insulting or irksome.

As Heket is confident and self-assured, she projects an air of confidence and authority (and propriety) which serves to make her appear distant. As a Bishop of the Old Faith, her image is very important to her and she cannot abide witnesses to moments of weakness as she despises being perceived as weak. This extends to her siblings to a degree, but mostly with Kallamar and Leshy, as she will bottle her feelings around them to appear as their strong big sister.

She has a great love of music and cooking, and enjoys attending feasts and festivals even if she does not outwardly project it.

Kallamar

A squid of science and magic. He studied the blade at Shamura's insistence, not because he wanted to, and spars out of a sense of obligation rather than personal enjoyment.

Kallamar can sometimes be stuck up and obnoxious, partly borne of anxiety, partly because he is a God and believes mortals to be below him, and he can take time to warm up to newcomers to his temple, but get past this barrier and he becomes much more agreeable and pleasant.

Converse to initial impressions, he is actually more inclined to reward faithful and devoted followers than his siblings, and values their input and council, especially from those he can engage with on a more sophisticated or academic level.

Kallamar also has a bit of a temper and can be as quick to lash out as Heket, however he requires quite a bit more pushing before he'll choose violence. In other words, he's more bark than bite.

Kallamar can become cowed in the presence of his elder siblings, and becomes less inclined to speak his mind. However he will not hesitate to put Leshy in his place should his younger brother become too much. But this does not mean that he does not care for his siblings and will become affectionate should the situation call for it.

Kallamar's hobbies include science! aka studying everything under the sun, with a particular passion for the field of medicine, and art in the form of painting and calligraphy.

Leshy

As the youngest Bishop, Leshy is perpetually the baby of the family. This allows him a great deal freedom in regards to how he acts and is allowed to act both around his siblings and his followers, and will often push this freedom to its limit. Essentially he uses his “immaturity” as an excuse to be the most playful.

However he is also still a Bishop of the Old Faith and is frequently chastised by his family for not behaving like one, when he pushes those limits too far (which is often).

Leshy views mortals less as tools and more as toys, and loves toying with them by playing pranks, or stirring up drama between followers (without them realising he's responsible). His siblings will sometimes find themselves the targets of his tricks and pranks as well, though he knows not to take them to far, and he would never think of stirring up drama between any of them.

He is also always hungry and as the Bishop of Chaos, his mood can sometimes be fickle and unpredictable; He will do or say one thing and then change his mind and do or say something else (or the opposite) in rapid succession. His followers have little choice but to bow and cater to his whims, or they'll be eaten as punishment. Sometimes Leshy will eat them anyway.

Leshy enjoys attending feasts and festivals (and getting drunk) and his hobbies (besides pulling pranks on his siblings and followers) include wood-carving and gardening.

#Cult of the Lamb #CotL #Cult of the Lamb Bishops #CotL Bishops #my headcanons; permit me to display them before you

[chopper-writing-stuff]

Looking Back

29.04.2019, Sand Island

Trigger entered the bright, spacious office silently, much like anything he did. He walked up to the desk and, seeing the person behind it was still staring into the screen, put a little more effort than necessary into his last step.

“I’ll get to you in a minute”. This sentence was clearly meant for him, but the speaker, Brigadier General Samantha Mead, was still motionless, studying something on her computer. “You really are a very silent person, Trigger”, she added in that same monotone voice, like she was talking to herself.

Although that statement was true, Trigger himself didn’t feel silent at all. His breath was whistling in his nose, playing a complicated polyrhythm with his heartbeat. This thumping music was struggling to cover up the ringing in his ears, desperately calling for aid chattering of his teeth. Even the sweat forming on his hands seemed to make a whispering sound.

Warwolf, or, as everyone was calling it - “The new Wardog Squadron”, was still freshly formed, and thus closely oversighted by the OMDF command. It wasn’t uncommon for the Brigadier General of the 5th Fighter Wing to supervise its exercises or check on its pilots. But over the 6 months of Trigger’s time in here, he never got as much as a friendly look from her.

Granted, he never really got that from anyone. His flight lead, or squadron leader, any of the other pilots. Warwolf 3, the most persistent of them, stopped trying to talk with him after about two weeks. Trigger was impressed how long they were trying. And ashamed he never mustered the strength to answer.

“Last week I asked your squadron to fill in some evaluation forms” Samantha Mead was done with the screen and now her eyes were drilling through Trigger, “and I’d like to talk about them with you.” He evaded this pressure by looking down and found the forms in question on Brigadier General’s desk. He was struck by a feeling that he completely misunderstood the questions, but after a second he realized his form wasn’t there. These sheets were filled in by his teammates, all flipped to the page with questions about other squadron members. Trigger’s heart rate doubled.

He couldn’t look down anymore, and to avoid Brigadier General’s sight he focused on a photograph, hanging on a wall behind her. It showed a middle aged pilot standing in front of an F-5 fighter jet, with one hand still holding on to a yellow ladder, the other around his helmet. Right above his head Trigger could read the name off the canopy - Simon “Drag Race” Mead. The photo wasn’t in greyscale, but its corner was marked with black tape.

“Can I tell you a story about my brother?” Samantha asked suddenly. Trigger, confused, looked her straight in the eyes. She seemed nicer than just a minute ago. He cleared his throat from the corpse of “yes” he was about to say, and let its soul out as a whisper. He then nodded to clarify.

“During the Circum-Pacific War, Simon was a leader of a squadron tasked with covering the retreats of Osean bomber escorts, coming back from Yuktobania. After guarding the bombers on their way home, the escort fighters were returning low on fuel, still under fire. It was his job to defend them. And he was good at it.” Brigadier General turned her armchair to face the picture. Trigger sighed, relieved of the eye contact. “But that’s how he treated it. As a job,” Samantha continued. “The moment his feet touched the ground, he was unreachable. No chatting with squadron members, no eating together. He would disappear in his office and reemerge right for the briefing.” Trigger felt the hair on his arm rise again. The Brigadier General wasn’t talking about her brother just to share a story with a nugget.

“One time he refused to sortie.” Samantha Mead turned back to face Trigger. It took all his strength not to take a step back. “It was a cold, calculated decision.” She was still somewhat calm saying this. “On that run the bombers were hit hard, the escort squadron to cover was down to 10%. He reckoned anyone in his squadron would say the same thing. He was sure everyone felt the same.” Samantha sighed.

“The next sortie, Simon wanted to atone. He dove right into the fight, not looking back, not even waiting for his wingman. He single handedly kept the Yuke squadron away from friendlies. The escorts even called him a Demon.” There was a genuine pride in Brigadier General’s eyes when she said that. Then they quickly narrowed and a wrinkle appeared between her brows. “But it came time for him to retreat. The escort squadron was at a safe distance and Simon’s plane sustained a few hits. After a few minutes of fighting he was barely holding up. And his squadron?” Samantha looked deep into Trigger’s eyes. “They said it wasn’t worth risking their lives. And you know what?” she paused. “It wasn’t.”

“He wasn’t a leader of a squadron. He was commanding numbers on a spreadsheet. Simon didn’t know his squadmates. He didn’t trust them, they didn’t trust him, and innocent pilots suffered for it because they were supposed to be protected by a squadron that wasn’t a team.”

Trigger took a step back.

Brigadier General turned her computer screen so Trigger could see it. It showed a squadron file. Its blue and orange emblem and name - “Mage”, was placed next to IUN-PKF’s blue leaf. The squadron had only one member listed - TAC name “Clown”.

“My old acquaintance called me recently asking if I could spare any pilots so he could keep his squadron alive. I said yes. Go be someone else’s problem. Dismissed.”

10.08.2019, New Arrows Air Base

Trigger entered a small but cozy office whispering “Hello?” too quietly to be heard by the person sitting behind a computer screen.

“Ah, Trigger! Come on in.” Wiseman gestured towards a free chair in front of his desk and sat back into his own armchair. “Congratulations on your first mission as Strider, you really helped us out there.”

Trigger sat down at the edge of his chair and deeply nodded for the compliment. Wiseman waited for a moment, probably for him to say something, but before Strider 1 could think of anything, the company commander continued.

“Actually, I asked you to come to talk about something I’ve noticed during that mission.”

Trigger’s heart jumped. So Wiseman was aware. Trigger knew he wasn’t a good leader but he had hope it wasn’t that obvious. Tabloid was keeping formation with him and, even though blind following wasn’t a great tactic, it was what pilots fresh out of academy were taught to do, and Trigger felt that with time he could get comfortable with his squad enough to openly talk. Granted, he knew them relatively long, and he didn’t make as much progress as with, say, Brownie, but now that they really were stuck together Trigger was sure he would finally break the ice. But if Wiseman kicks them out of LRSSG who knows what will happen to them, where and if they will ever see eachother? Is he ever going to get good at social-

“You’ve met Mr. X before, haven't you?”

“...”

Wiseman leaned towards Trigger’s blank face concealing a quietly derailing train of thoughts.

“You said he might attack from below,” Wiseman’s eyes pierced deeper into Trigger’s paler face. “Where did you see him use that tactic?”

Trigger took a deep, hopefully silent breath to calm his voice. It didn’t come out without cracks, but he managed to say clearly “Yinshi Valley. Sir.”

12.07.2019, Yinshi Valley

<<New bogey! Champ, below you!>> Bandog had to come back to work less than ten seconds after deeming the job done. Before this transmission ended the Spare Squadron could hear a loud thump of his feet falling from the console to the floor.

<<Got it. This one’s all mine!>> Spare 8 quickly dodged a stream of bullets and positioned his craft to catch the hostile on the descent. That was all Trigger could see through a thin cloud between the fight and his Starfighter, so he gently pushed the throttle. Meanwhile Champ was getting more enthusiastic.

<<Oh, you’re going where I want you!>>

<<Not so fast, you won’t keep up with- ugh- THIS>>

<<Why no firing? Low on ammo? Spent it all for the paintjob?>>

That last comment echoed in Trigger’s head a bit longer. He leaned a little closer to the canopy and pushed the throttle all the way. He was almost around the cloud, behind which there were two aircraft engaged in a deadly dance. One black dot leading another black dot through the wind and thunderstorm. A MiG-29 followed closely by… an Su-30.

Trigger broke hard and went straight towards the fighters. Champ finally got to where he wanted and, screaming enthusiastically, performed a cobra maneuver. He was so excited he didn’t notice the flanker smoothly getting out of his way. Seamlessly the hostile slowed down and masterfully rotated their aircraft. A single missile went back towards the Fulcrum. Champ had maybe half a second to notice it after the nose of his aircraft dropped low enough. He was still cheering when the radio cut off. The flanker pulled up, away from the explosion. After ascending above the canyon level the sunlight bounced off of the orange wingtips of the aircraft.

<<He shot down Champ!>>

<<Who is this guy?>>

The Spare Squadron was speechless but Trigger knew exactly who this guy was. And how to make him pay back.

High power AA missile went off the Starfighter’s rail before Bandog ordered Trigger to engage the enemy. Turning back after overshooting he could hear Tabloid spotting two more Flankers but they could have a whole squadron for all he cared. He fought off the g-force and saw “Mr. X” on his nose once again. Two more shots, two more misses. The Flanker made a pirouette through the smoke trails and released it’s own missiles. They went for the flairs but Trigger couldn’t rely on that trick forever. Another turn got him facing Mr. X head on again. This time he landed a gun series on him for the cost of a few bullet holes in his own fuselage.

“This can’t go on” he thought and decided to extend, playing more into F-104’s speed.

This didn’t work as planned. Even though it had to turn back, the black Su-30 was catching up. “Damn fossil” pressed through Trigger’s gritted teeth as he broke through the clouds, into the valley. To his surprise Mr. X was there already. Second High power missile went after the speeding Flanker and followed it around a rock pillar. Trigger couldn’t confirm a hit. The enemy took him on a ride through the valley, making tight turns and tricking missiles to smash into the rocks. Trigger didn’t want to get too close, lest the Flanker performs another deadly acrobatic, but falling behind in this labyrinth could prove as much risky. Finally the Su-30 shot up vertically into the clouds and Trigger punched the throttle to catch up. Only when he saw a blurry silhouette of the Flanker performing a tail slip above the clouds did he realize where he wound up.

Mr. X started descending in a spiral, as if he was following a thread. And Trigger was the one being screwed. Any moment now Mr. X will do a post stall maneuver and put a missile straight through Trigger’s jet.

He’s been studying this maneuver in his head for over a month now. Thinking how to counter it. Now he had less than ten seconds to prove his theory, in this brick of an aircraft.

He tailslipped himself. Still below Mr. X’s craft. Any other pilot would call it crazy. Trigger would tell them to wait with that for the next part.

He saw the missile illuminated by lightning in a rear view mirror. It was going straight for his tail. He gritted his teeth and pulled on the stick. The shock of the explosion and roar of thunder merged into one sky-shattering boom.

It was followed by a cacophony of warnings piercing Trigger’s ears. Missing a stone pillar by centimeters he pulled the fire extinguisher lever. Scraping treetops with its fuselage the Starfighter was regaining altitude. Trigger looked out for another missile but it didn’t come. Emerging from an orchestra of beeps and pings was Bandog’s voice announcing the retreat of enemy aircraft.

A few hours later The beat up F-104 touched down on the 444th Air Base runway with a fountain of sparks. Trigger didn’t even bother with extending the air brakes or lowering the landing gear. One was half torn off,  the other fell out a few minutes earlier. After a good minute of bouncing on the concrete the airframe finally came to a screeching halt in the middle of the runway. With no emergency vehicle in sight Trigger climbed out of the cockpit and crawled under one of the trees growing by the airstrip. He leaned on the trunk and watched the remains of the plane catching fire.

“All areas critical my ass…” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

“Yes, I know that.” Wiseman still had wrinkles on his forehead, but at least Cyclops 1's face stopped getting closer. Trigger hoped he wasn’t leaning in his chair too much.

“I’ve read Colonel McKinsey’s report on that mission,” continued Wiseman. “After my squadron left, three unknown Su-30s showed up, shooting down one and engaging with two Spare aircraft. I doubted two convicts could hold their own against Mr. X but the aircraft’s color checked out, and now I see that with your skills it wasn’t that far fetched,” Wiseman ended with a smile. But after a moment he was serious again.

“But that’s a single encounter. You’re not a dumb person, Trigger. You would know not to assume that’s his whole thing after fighting him once. I’ll ask again, where did you see him?”

This time Trigger had more time to prepare what to say.

“Chopingburg rainforest, sir. Operation Dual Wielder.”

30.05.2019, Chopinburg

<<All aircraft watch out, another salvo!>> Shouted Sky Keeper, as the last three AAM ports on the Arsenal Bird erupted with missiles.

<<Skeleton 3 break!>>

New smoke ribbons weaved in between the previous ones.

<<Lost control! Ej-...>>

The sky around the airborne carrier was filled with fighters carrying pilots on the edge of consciousness, tireless drones chasing them and bouquets of missiles to anyone from everyone. 

<<How many are left!?>>

<<AAM port destroyed! Two remaining!>> Brownie announced another kill for Trigger without a blink. The silent pilot thanked her in his mind.

<<Fox 2! Fox 2!>> Golem 2 fired herself and in spite of one MQ-101 sacrificing itself to intercept a threat, the second missile exploded right into another missile launcher.

<<Big bird is losing its talons. Just one more and you can safely retreat. Trigger, Brownie, you can do it!>> Encouraged AWACS.

<<Hold on. What’s that thing?>> Asked Clown.

A pale blue halo started materializing above the center section of the Arsenal Bird. It was slowly filling with color. Trigger fired at the last AAM launcher but a propeller was in the way and the target remained intact. The pilot dodged another missile and as he was checking his surroundings he felt a sudden change, like a gust of warm wind. The drones were still following Osean pilots as they were, keeping up the pressure but they started to… avoid the Arsenal Bird? He was trying to find the right words to describe it but it seemed crazy. He pushed the radio button two times, two times he said nothing fearing his allies would deem it nonsense.

<<Sky Keeper, what’s happening?>>

<<Keep up the attack. That’s the order.>> There was a hint of confusion in AWACS’ voice but he kept an authoritative tone.

<<The drones…>> Trigger finally exhaled a whisper.

<<HQ, what’s happening?>>

<<I repeat, disarm the Arsenal Bird ASAP>> While the drone’s halo grew larger Sky Keeper started discussing with HQ.

<<Sky Keeper, give us a report!>> Knocker was getting frustrated. Taking advantage of the drones now clearly keeping their distance, more pilots were taking their shots at the carrier.

<<Back off…?>> Trigger suggested.

The ring was deep blue.

<<Follow the orders>> Sky Keeper stated.

The ring was pulsing.

<<Evading!>>

<<Fox 2>>

The ring blinked red.

<<Keep attacking.>>

<<Almost got it!>>

<<I’ve a clear sh- >>

The halo’s edge rushed outward expanding into a sphere of blue light engulfing the Arsenal Bird. A flash of light blinded the pilots and static filled their ears. It all lasted a second. Those caught by the surface of the sphere exploded into fireballs.

<<What The Hell!?>> Sky Keeper loudly broke the silence.

<<Skeleton 1 status report!>> He yelled. <<Skeleton 2! 3!>>

<<Skeleton Squadron is down.>> Knocker reported with an ice cold voice.

After a few seconds AWACS came back.

<<Arsenal Bird deployed a microwave shield. Nothing can pass its surface in or out. Gargoyle Squadron, retreat. Golem and Mage, provide support.>>

<<Microwave shield? I don’t remember that from the briefing,>> snarked Clown.

<<Escort Gargoyle Squadron Mage 1.>>

<<Why weren’t we informed!?>>

<<Save your chatter for the debriefing, Golem 1>> Sky Keeper sighed. <<You’re safe from Arsenal Bird’s missiles. Return to base.>>

Gargoyle Squadron was the quickest to abandon the previous objective and their Tomcats were already miles away. The drones, unable to return to their mothership, pursued the Oseans.

<<Let’s go, Trigger. HQ orders.>> Clown’s afterburner almost turned yellow from the salt in that sentence.

<<...co>> mustered Trigger, before putting his embarrassment into firing missiles.

Fort Gray’s fighters spread out and went after individual Gargoyles, taking out drones as they got closer. Mage 1 focused solely on fighting the machines. He would approach them at high speeds, to overshoot and get their attention. Slowing down while turning and rolling, he would wait for the drone’s AI to jump the shark and turn too tightly; then it was time for him to pull the stick and land a gun series while the missile reached for its target. Overshoot. Turn. Kill. Repeat. One of these duels ended up inside a large cloud and Trigger’s missile lost the drone right as it was about to hit. He was pushing the throttle to extend and reengage when another missile emerged out of the fog and exploded on the target.

<<Splash Five!>> Announced Brownie, leveling her Hornet next to Trigger’s Viper.

<<Thanks>> said Trigger.

<<Can’t let you have too much fun.>> Golem 2 rocked her wings and turned towards the last MQ-101 chasing Gargoyle 1.

<<You’re…>>

<<I lost Knocker in the clouds. But it looks like they’re doing fine back there, and now, you can learn something from me,>> teased him Brownie. Trigger instinctively looked at her but he obviously didn’t see her expression from 20 meters and through the canopy. But he did notice something else below Golem 2’s aircraft.

<<Bandit, 10 o’ clock, low!>>

Brownie broke towards the new threat and repeated the warning on the main channel. Trigger followed his friend, intensely staring at the jet skimming treetops above the jungle. The aircraft type was hard to tell but the jet itself was easily visible thanks to bright orange wingtips. When it noticed its opponents, it climbed in a gentle curve, losing minimal speed. The black silhouette against white clouds was clearly a Flanker.

<<Hostile, bearing 020, engaging Mage 2 and Golem 2,>> announced Sky Keeper.

<<Get ‘em, Trigger>>

<<Brownie, keep focus!>>

<<Understood, sir!>>

<< -ox 3!>>

Trigger opened with a SASM shot as soon as the Flanker got into range. He followed with a gun series and rushed forward to merge while the hostile did a barrel roll and effortlessly evaded both attacks. The G force opened Trigger’s mouth as he tracked the target through a turn. Brownie defaulted to defending, hiding behind an array of flares but the Flanker didn’t fire a single missile. It slowed down right behind Golem 2 and started following her through evasive maneuvers.

<<I can’t lose him! Why is he not firing!?>>

<<Golem 2 lead the hostile to Trigger,>> advised Sky Keeper

Trigger was already trying to get an angle on the fighter. Even though it was copying Brownie’s maneuvers the enemy pilot was altering them enough to avoid his attacks.

Trigger decided to stop flanking the enemy and approached it from behind but the moment he knew he had a clear shot the Flanker suddenly grew in his field of vision. It exposed its entire back to him but it was so close Trigger had to dive to avoid colliding with it.

Trigger’s head exploded with pain as every blood cell in his body rushed upwards and Mage 2 barely managed to stay conscious. He frantically searched his mirrors for the orange-winged Flanker behind him but couldn’t find it. He saw it only when he pulled back up. but instead of chasing him, it was still focused on Brownie. After pulling off the cobra maneuver it must’ve gone straight up vertically, because it was way above Golem 2, coming down on her in a spiral.

<<Mine, I’ve got him!>> Brownie couldn’t hide excitement.

Trigger was staring at the fight trying to get to it. Indeed, Brownie was in a better position and the Flanker was flying in a predictable way. It almost felt wrong, how an obviously experienced pilot like this would pull that move. Trigger was intensely focusing on the enemy trying to figure him out, as the jets got closer. Brownie flying upward in a tight spiral inside the Flanker’s path, never changing like an eagle circling its prey…

<<Brownie look out!>>

She must’ve felt it too, because as soon as the enemy’s nose pitched towards the center of the spiral, Hornet’s canopy blew away. Flanker’s missiles and Brownie’s ejection seat ignited at the same moment. Black jet with orange wingtips performed a flat spin around the fireball and smoothly regained control, leveling its flight.

Trigger held his breath as he fixed his eyes on two black dots flying away from the explosion. Brownie and her WSO managed to eject before the missile hit and their parachutes should open soon… any moment… now…

Two canopies of white fabric against the white clouds. Two canopies riddled with blue patches against the blue sky. Plummeting towards the ground. Then one after the other, the lines snapped and the sheets of fabric went away, carried by the wind.

Trigger didn’t see them hit the ground. He didn’t watch. All his focus was on the enemy, flying towards him. A missile, burst of tracers. Dodged. Turn around, more missiles. Flares. Enemy on his six. Allies were shouting over the radio but he couldn’t hear what. He fired another missile and dodged the Flanker’s attack. More speed.

They were both descending, fighting like two birds of prey. The ground was closing but Trigger didn’t think of pulling away. 5 thousand feet. 3. 1.

The enemy finally pulled up and sped away, knocking down leaves and treetop fruits with his downwash. Trigger was lucky to end up above the river instead of the forest, almost skimming the surface after leveling his aircraft. Now, at the edge of consciousness he had no chance of catching up to the Flanker. But even after touching down at Fort Gray’s, in his mind, the fight wasn’t over.

It took longer to find the file than to read it, but Wiseman was finally satisfied.

“Well, isn’t that a story to tell.” He leaned back in his armchair. “Do you have kids?” Wiseman added unexpectedly, and laughed when Trigger’s eyes doubled in size.

“Ah, you haven’t heard him say it.” He waved his hand and went back to reading the report. “A few more sorties and you’ll know. And I know you’ll be here long enough. A pilot like you can live through anything. I’m glad we have you here, Trigger.”

6.06.2019, Selatapura

<<I’m glad we have you here, Trigger>> Sky Keeper wasn’t hiding the awe in his voice. Mother Goose 1’s tail was clear again, but not for long.

<<Yeah, but even with him we won’t hold much longer, they’re swarming!>> Knocker brought the AWACS down to earth and decommissioned another pair of MQ-101s.

<<That’s why you have to- FOLLOW! his example>> Clown grunted as if he was fighting the drones bare-handed.

All this talk would’ve gotten to Mage 2’s head hours ago if there was any blood there to think clearly. Mr. Harling’s rescue was looking more desperate by the minute and they weren’t even in the range of Arsenal Bird’s missiles yet.

Trigger did a corkscrew around another drone and almost stalled trying to get a missile lock. The UAV almost rotated in place at the last moment and left the pilot to regain control falling through a cloud.

<<It’s like they’re completely different machines!>> Clown voiced Trigger’s complaint perfectly.

Mage 2 abandoned that drone and circled back to Mother Goose 1. The Osprey found a new tail and Colonel Johnson’s best attempts to lose it were doomed to fail. Trigger downed one drone and scared another off with missiles. The third was left with a clear shot and… it broke off and went straight towards the Space Elevator. Trigger’s eyes followed it and the pilot saw a garland of missile trails pointing at the structure. And then, in familiar fashion the UAVs scrambled to intercept the weapons. From the entire salvo only one managed to get through. Trigger held his breath when it exploded into the windbreak but the structure withstood the attack.

<<Gargoyle, Sky Keeper, what the hell!?>>

<<Gargoyle squadron did their job, you do yours Golem 1,>> The AWACS sighed.

<<You’re leaving us in the dark again,>> admonished Knocker.

<<IUN can’t coordinate, business as usual. Get over it. At least we have less of these gremlins to wor- >>

Before Clown could finish one of the drones managed to strife Mother Goose 1 with its gun. The Osprey swung to one side and returned to level flight but after a quick inspection Clown revealed the bullets went straight into the cockpit.

<<Mother Goose 1, respond! Colonel Johnson!>>

After a five-second eternity Sky Keeper’s call was answered.

<<.................>>

<<Mother Goose 1!>>

<<It’s just static.>>

<<It’s the wind through broken windshield. Someone’s still there.>>

<<.................-ead. S-...........................................Na-........................-orry.>>

This time a voice came through the deafening wind.

<<I know this voice! It’s Mr. Harling!>> Sky Keeper shouted with excitement. <<All aircraft continue providing support for Mother Goose 1. We’ll get you home safely sir!>>

<<.........................>>

With newfound motivation Trigger went into a dance with another drone. While he was still firing his gun he sent a missile for another UAV. Mr. Harling had a clear path to fly…

<<Mother Goose 1 is turning around!>>

Trigger once again looked back only to see the Space Elevator still under attack from Gargoyle, and the Osprey was flying straight towards it, into the swarm of UAVs.

<<Mr. Harling! Turn around now and exit the combat zone!>> Cried Sky Keeper. <<Trigger! Get those drones off Mother Goose 1’s tail!>>

Trigger turned his aircraft dutifully. His ammo was low but he saved a few special weapons for an emergency. Three 4AAM missiles. Three drones. Lock, good tone. With a tired hand he fired a salvo.

And saw four smoke trails.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Major.” A too familiar voice snapped Trigger back to reality.

“Brigadier General! I was just-”

“You were just feeding the ego of a murderer, Major.” Samantha Mead fully materialized inside Wiseman’s office. Trigger didn’t remember hearing the door open but there was no denying, the person who sat next to him was real.

“I was interrogating Trigger about an enemy ace. I believe his skills are going to be an asset in the counteroffensive.” Wiseman replied in a cold tone.

“Yes, but I urge you not to rely on them too much. They’ll still be there after the counteroffensive.” She glared at Trigger and made him a few inches shorter. “I’ll be taking charge of the LRSSG from now on. You are not Strider 1 anymore. Get back to your cell. Dismissed.”

Note: I'm finally back on my bullshit! Initially this fic was meant to be a full story rewrite but after getting stuck writing the first chapters I noticed I could just carry on from the Scrap Queen oneshot I posted, so that's what I did. Unfortunately by doing that I skipped over some stuff I wanted to establish, so I'm doing some of it now! With this time save it might take 5 years instead of 10 but I AM going to finish this fic. I've got headcanons and dataminer finds to incorporate into this story and I'm going to do it. eventually.

#fanfic #ace combat #ace combat 7

[barnes-lothbrok]

Mermaid Tears - 3

All parts here

Warnings - Fluff, and slight non-con behavior 

As always apologises for grammar, spelling and any mistakes.

Some of the mermaid lore in this is random and yes, that is a the little mermaid quote. Please ask any questions if things don't make sense.

Tags - @youbloodymadgenius ♡

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Kattegat was beautiful in the snow, it remained Nix of the time when she was younger. She had longed to see how humans lived, always admiring them from afar. 

Her mother had spoken of them fondly, how the ones she met were caring and how they were similar to themselves. Instead of a tail, they had two legs and weren't able to breathe below the waves. They used boats to explore the world around them, fire for warmth and used odd man-made caves on land for shelter. 

Nix had always been more interested in the strange creatures than her sisters. Fascinated by the trinkets her mother would return with. 

Even after her mother disappeared and her older sisters told her stories of war, bloodshed, of being hunted and labelled the humans, demons, Nix never understood how a world that made such wonderful things could be so bad. 

A few months after her mother's disappearance, her sisters and herself stayed behind in the cold waters instead of migrating to warmer waters, in the hope that their mother would return. The sun had set and the water on the shore line was frozen but the caves on land were giving off a warm glow as music and laughter filled the air. 

The sand beneath her feet moved and changed, crunching as the snow melted with each step. It caused a sharp tingle on the sole of her foot as the icy air whipped around her. Hugging herself, Nix looked up at the moon and stars before watching thier reflection on the water's surface. She could see the beauty in which her mother described, the ocean, her home, looked very different from on land. 

The warm glow and music called to her as she could wobbly steps towards it. Once closer she hid behind the huts as people walked by, laughing as they hurried by covered in furs. That must be how the humans kept warm, she noted, spotting more in similar attire. 

As the cold night air made her shiver and her fingers turn blue, she noticed a rug hanging over a door. Pulling it slowly towards her as not to be seen she quickly wrapped it around herself and continued towards the Great Hall where most of the magical noise was coming from. 

Peering through the cracks in the wood, she saw people eating, drinking and dancing. Looking down at her own feet she wondered if she'd be able to do the same. Watching the humans move in time with the melody as people around them clapped, she couldn't help but smile and long to join in.

At the centre of the circle was a woman in white with a crown of flowers in her golden hair. 

Her smile was shining as she looked to the man in front of her, his eyes surrounded in black looking at her with a look, Nix could only imagine was love. 

They reminded her of the tale her mother would tell her, of how the sea loved the moon. How their love was a dance. 

Nix was so engrossed in the dancing couple she never noticed someone appear behind her until she felt a hand on her ankle and tugging on the fabric around her. 

Looking down at the man at her feet, she couldn't understand the noises he snarled at her, pointing a knife towards her, gesturing to her up and down. 

As she didn't respond his smirk dropped and his brow frowned as he tilted his head at her. 

"I shouldn't be here" Nix said helplessly, knowing he couldn't understand her "I will go" 

She turned around to walk away but his hand was still on her ankle, causing her to stumble. As her back hit the cold ground, he quickly crawled over her, placed his knife to her throat. His face was so close to hers, Nix could see every detail as she stared up at him. His eyes were an enchanting blue.  

He looked at her in question and Nix shook her head, hoping it was the right thing to do. At first it seemed the wrong answer as his blade pushed hard into her neck before his eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips and the pressure lessened. 

His lips inched dangerously closer to hers. His warm breath fluttered over her cold cheeks but as his lips brushed hers, he suddenly pulled away, throwing himself backwards with strong upper body strength. He pulled himself across the ground, creating distance between them as for a moment he had a look of shock and horror, his icy blue eyes wide. 

Nix got to her feet, looking at the young man, she paused for a moment before hurrying away into the night back to the safety of the ocean. 

Her older sister Nerida, reprimanded her, reminding her of how awful, cruel and monstrous humans could be. That they were only useful for reproducing, for there were no male mermaids. One rule was never to visit the same place again, that had been their mother's mistake. 

Nix, at that moment, still believed humans could be wonderful as she pictured the happy couple and the young man's enchanting eyes. Her faith in them wasn't broken until boats, carrying hordes of demons, hunted and slayed her sisters.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As her hand began to heal, so did her heart. Although far bigger and far scary, these humans didn't seem so bad compared to her previous captures. These allowed her comfort but never gave her freedom, for the one called Ebony was always by her side. 

Ebony was a foot taller than Nix and often reminded her of Nerida with her raven hair. She helped Nix with everything from dressing, bathing and even helped her learn words to understand the world and language spoken around her. It only took Nix a short while to understand as mermaids were gifted in language. 

Nix grew fond of the ones around her, Helga, an was a kind older woman with golden hair and a sweet smile but her husband Floki always gave Nix an odd look as if not trusting of her. 

It had surprised her to learn that the brothers were considered royalty and that Ivar was king. For in her world there was no royalty, just different family pods, consisting of a mother and her daughters. When she learnt what being a king meant, Nix was even more confused as to why Ivar and his brothers had treated her with such kindness, spoiled her with comfort for they didn't treat their other thralls and captives this way. 

One evening as Nix returned from seeing Helga to have the bandage on her hand removed, she heard yelling from the room she resided in. Cries of pain rang out as a thrall tried to help Ivar remove his braces. 

"Forgive me, my king" he whimpered as Ivar hissed in pain and pulled a knife against him 

"No more mistakes" Ivar gritted his teeth before letting the terrified thrall go, who hurried away.

He sighed, groaning in pain as he lay back to look up at the roof before sitting up quickly sensing someone watching. His face softened as he noticed Nix, standing at the door. 

"Please, don't just stand there, come in" he said softly, offering his hand to her. "I needed a quiet space and Hvitserk is using his room"

Nix approached him cautiously as she accepted his hand. His larger ones gently turned her hand over and inspected the pink scar on her palm from the injury she gained from the shattered glass. "This has healed nicely"

"Yes, Helga is wonderful," Nix smiled as he let her hand go. She moved to kneel before him and help with the braces. 

Ivar moved his leg away and hissed in pain, desperately trying to hide it. "Don't" 

"Let me help you," She offered softly "you have cared for me, allow me to do the same" 

Ivar shook his head and removed her hands from his leg "I am fine. I just need a rest" he moved to stand, trying to cover his pain as he did so. "Hvitserk should be done by now" 

Nix placed a hand on his shoulder to try and stop him "Stay here, this is yours after all. You have been far too kind keeping me here. I can join Ebony" 

Ivar frowned before grabbing her hand again. "You are not a thrall" he said, making Nix frown, if she wasn't like Ebony, what was she? 

"Stay with me" he uttered, his blue eyes looking so vulnerable. The mask he wore so often, cracking before her. Nix had a flash of a memory from long ago. 

His eyes were an enchanting blue.

They lay in silence, heads resting on the pillows as Ivar studied her face, with a sense that he knew her. 

"Can a mermaid's kiss save someone from drowning?" Ivar asked, having asked a few questions about myths already. He felt like a boy again as it helped to distract from the pain. 

"My sister, Nerida said it was true but only in a mermaid true form" Nix shrugged "but I don't know" 

"Is it true, mermaid tears can heal?" He asked, glancing briefly down to his legs and back up to Nix.

"No" she said softly "Mermaids don't cry for there is no sense in crying in water" 

Ivar nodded lost in thought as Nix gently combed a hand over his braids, humming a soft but haunting melody. As she hummed Ivar, felt his mind become light and his pain ease as he against his own will moved closer to her.

As sleep began to take a hold, he shook his head, desperately fighting against the sensation taking over him. "Tell me a tale of your people" He muttered, wanting to learn more from her world, to continue to hear his dear mermaid talk. 

Nix told him the tale of the sea that loved the moon as he drifted into the first restful sleep in his life. 

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