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vase-of-lilies · 6 months

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❀ Pairing: Medusa!Wanda Maximoff x Blind!Reader (F)

❀ Warnings: Reader is “sacrificed” and “saved by Wanda”, so much fluff, really quick acceptance, sexual content, Wandas snakes have their own personalities and love to mess with the reader when she is just snuggling with Wanda or when she is just chilling (lol), fingering, oral (r receiving), Wanda just flicking our bean while out on the beach, the snakes calm reader down IDK OK,

❀Disclaimer The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.

❀ Authors Note: I have started reading the story called “Stone Blind” and it is a re-telling of the story of Medusa and telling the “true” story of how she became the “monster” she turned into. I feel like that even though Medusa was assaulted, she deserves love and I think that having a blind reader would help her feel like she was loved based off of her personality, not of fear. This story is a little lighter than the others, but it still is dark with hints of kidnapping and captivity. I will also be keeping Stheno and Euryale, Medusa’s original sisters, just for the organization of plot purposes! There are quotes in here that are loosely based on “Stone Blind”! All credit to Natalie Haynes for the style of Medusa I use!!

It’s a cooler summer day in Greece, rain feeding the dry crops with much-needed food. The drought that Zeus brought to the mainland was devastating, causing crops, veggies, and fruits to cripple before they were ripe enough to pick. This was a punishment for the greediness the people were showing, thriving a little too much to the god's liking.

It wasn’t uncommon for the god to be selfish like this. He would often flood the fields with too much water, making them die equally fast. Your village was one of the many affected by this cruel situation. You later learn that Zeus had a bad day and wanted to take it out on someone other than his poor wife in the clouds.

These games he played were difficult to navigate, as the world through your eyes was sightless. Just like tinnitus in the ear, your eyes seemed to feel the same way; clouded and blurred figures with every movement of your eyes. You were born this way, and no amount of begging could have changed what you encounter daily.

However, with this blindness, your other senses are heightened. Your hearing was better than most, and you did everything possible to protect it as it was your most powerful sense. Every chirp of a cricket, creek of a door, a voice outside your home. You could hear it all.

It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. “She won’t even know we are gone, she can’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind.” This was the last thing you heard from your parents before they abandoned you. Your heart broke when you heard those words, never feeling such betrayal from someone you loved before. It was that moment that caused you to shut off your emotions to other people.

At the age you are now, it was difficult to find really anyone who would accept your blindness, and love who you were on the inside. What never occurred to you was the fact that you needed someone who felt the same. Someone who felt an insecurity that needed to be validated by someone similar.

This was exactly how Wanda felt. She was the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters, born a mortal human but was punished by a goddess out of jealousy and spite.

The goddess Athena was spoiled by her father, getting everything and anything she wanted with a snap of her fingers. When she was betrayed, she didn’t punish Poseidon, who in fact was the person who caused this problem in the first place. She punished the poor girl who was hurt by Poseidon, all because the situation unfolded in Athena's own temple.

Why did she choose Wanda to punish? Because she was mortal and did not have to suffer through centuries of war and turmoil. The night she went to Wanda's cave, her sisters were out hunting; gathering for their mortal sister so she could eat. Athena took this opportunity of Wanda's solitude to torture her, ripping every piece of hair from her head, forcing red, writhing snakes to take their place.

She was in pain for days, her scalp burning with every movement the snakes made. Her nights were spent screaming and sobbing into the darkness of her cave, her sisters trying everything they could to soothe her. They were only met with silence until the day she finally spoke up about who hurt her. Her sisters were angry with the sea god for even looking at their loved one. They had their own way of punishing Poseidon, but of course, the god couldn't care less. He was powerful and could do whatever he wanted, just like his niece Athena.

Some could say that Athena took pity on Wanda for what her uncle did. And to keep the other gods away from her, the powerful goddess turned the girl's beautiful locks of hair into a head of writhing snakes. This was for protection from her uncle and any of the other greedy and overpowered gods that rule the world.

No matter the tale that one has heard, what is true is that Wanda is now considered a monster just like her sisters. But who determined what a monster was? Was a monster someone merely different from you? Or was it men that made everything monsters? Men seem to be afraid of powerful women, or women with sharp teeth, wings, and tusks.

Monsters are misunderstood.

The two sisters are some of the most gentle creatures to adorn the earth's surface. Sure, they hunt animals and look a little scary, but they keep a flock of sheep, learn how to cook bread, and take care of their mortal baby sister.

The first time they met Wanda, Stheno’s talon gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen when she arrived on the sand. Now that Wanda is a grown woman, her immortal sisters adapted to her needs. She spent most of her time on the beach, but now spends her time in the depths of her cave, too scared to come out of fear that Poseidon will hurt her again.

Stheno and Euryale vowed to never let anyone hurt their beloved sister ever again. They hoped that one day she would find a lover who would be willing to love her for who she was. Someone she could grow old with, and love with every fiber (and snake) of her being.

The snakes… they each have their own personality. There are thirteen (13) in all. Wanda or anyone for that matter has named them or really knows the difference. However, the two snakes at the very front of her head, close to her temples are easily told apart. On the left, there is Fang. She has a visible attitude and can hardly believe her fate was to be on top of someone's head. On the right, there is Lucky. Just like her name, Wanda could tell that she felt lucky to be a part of her host. Fang was sassy and defiant while Lucky was just happy to be there.

Though the rest of the snakes are just as present as Fang and Lucky, they each have a mind of their own and tend to make Wanda laugh despite her fate. Their hisses of protest when Stheno says that it’s getting dark and to come back into the cave, or when Euryale asks Wanda for her help with something while the snakes are sunbathing. My god, do they love the sun!

You did too. It was for a much different reason than what a seeing person might believe. You loved the sun for its two main purposes; to light up and warm the earth. Now, that may be what everyone thinks of Helios, the god of the sun. But to you, it meant so much more. With no sight and just a blurry field of vision in front of you, the sun kept the colorful blobs of people and obstacles slightly more viewable.

Selene, the moon goddess was not your favorite. Although she lights the night, most occasions it is only a sliver of light. Once a month do you really get to enjoy the darkness with some light guiding you from place to place. On the nights of the new moon, you stayed in the comfort of your home for the night. Although you could not see the phase of which Selene was in, you knew the darker the next night got, the closer it was to a new moon.

On one particular evening, you were unaware that it was a black moon. Meaning it was the second new moon in a months time. It was getting dark, but you had the thought that it would be bright enough to make it home, only to make a wrong turn when a man pushed past you.

Villagers helped you put your fallen fruit back into your basket, and a kind woman gives gently places your bamboo guiding stick back in your hand. You thank them, but you missed the opportunity to ask them the direction of your home. Physically you knew where you were, but again, it was getting dark and you were all turned around.

Hoping for the best in a difficult situation, you chose to turn right. Usually at this cross road, you would be facing North and your home was East, so you would turn right. Unfortunately, this rocky path led you right to Poseidons’ sea itself. And the god was ever so pleased to have a clueless woman enter his domain. Coming up from the oceans depths, he approaches you in your wandering state.

“Can I help you find your way, miss?” The god asks. Your head follows the voice to the right, unaware of who asked the question.

“I may be a bit lost,” You say with honesty. “I was on my way back from the market, but stumbled and lost the direction I was going.” Explaining yourself to the stranger felt like the logical explanation, but Poseidon used your confusion against you.

“No, I think you’re in the right place…” He smirks, gently putting his hand on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the sudden touch, clutching your baskets handle a little tighter. Poseidon isn’t aware of your blindness, all you are to him is a means to an end. He is in debt to his father, Kronos.

Poseidon knew the moment you stepped foot on to his cool sand, he knew you were perfect. As a god, you think he would know everything about you, but you were very wrong.

“Here, let me help you find your way back to the road.” He says, removing one of your hands from the basket handle. You allow him, but you are confused as you continue to feel sand beneath the sole of your sandals. The moon was not there, and you were helpless.

Kronos, the god of time, was betrayed by his son. Poseidon decided to ask his father for time. All the time in the world, when he got ahold of Wanda. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, fucking her and holding her when she is begging to see her sisters again only to drag her under the oceans surface when he is bored of her. Poseidon gets bored very easily, but Wanda’s pussy was different. Although his father did not question what he was going to use this time for, automatically a debt was owed.

Poseidon decided against using this time with Wanda, as her whining and begging becoming increasingly annoying. So he sent her back to her sisters to live in peace. That is, until Athena came along of course. He was adamant that he shouldn’t have to pay his father back since he did not use the time. Kronos lended him this time willingly without question. He was determined to get it back. And Poseidon had his sacrifice right in front of him.

His hand pulled you in the direction of a large rock by the edge of the water, a place that Poseidon remembers greatly. Andromeda was supposed to be sacrificed there, but Perseus swept in and came to the rescue, stopping a large sea monster with the help of Athenas spear and Artemis’s winged sandals. It was a shame to see such a beautiful sea creature leave the world in such a damaging way.

“Here we are, back on the road again, just a little further,” Poseidon says, his other hand taking the basket from your hands.

“Hey w-wait, I need tha-” You are cut off by a calloused hand clasping over your mouth.

“Just stay still and it will all be over soon.” The god whispered in your ear. Your breaths were staggered as you heard his words, confused by what he meant. Soon his hands were untying the soft rope from around your waist holding your silk toga to your body. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you only in your under garments. You whimpered, trying to understand what is happening.

“Please, whoever you are, let me go. H-have my fruit, t-take the gold!” You fought hard against the gods rock hard torso, fearing for your life.

“I told you to be still!” He shouted. His arms wrapped your body and he threw you over his shoulder. Damp hair rubbed against your skin as you struggled and a chiseled arm wraps their way around your legs to keep them still. A hard hit to your barely covered ass made you yelp, and you tried scratching at Poseidons back. The immortal couldn’t feel pain, so he took no thought of it.

With little to no trouble at all, he put your squirming body on the sand and held his hand over your neck to keep your back against the rock. The power he had was nothing compared to your mortal strength. So he held you still by straddling your legs, while his hands expertly tie your wrists together with the very rope keeping your toga on.

“Please sir, please I’ll do anything.” You whimper as tears fall from your grey eyes. The god ignores you and takes the chain set under the rock by Zeus himself and begins to connect your now-restrained wrists to it. You were trapped, and you could only pray to the gods, any of them, to show you any mercy.

“There. No need to cry, little one. You are a divine sacrifice for a god that has a lot of power. Don’t struggle, it makes him angry.” Poseidon said, and he tightened his already perfected knot in the rope.

He stepped back from your crying form and looked up to the sky. “I come to give the debt I owe! Isn’t she enough, father??” He shouts his arms opening. The sea is uneasy, his emotions controlling the tide.

Thunder claps and you know Zeus is present. “No, brother. Not now.” Poseidon growls, the intention of this sacrifice going to his father, not his sibling.

The rain soaks into your skin and clothes causing the thin band holding your breasts and underwear to become sheer and see-through. Poseidon took notice of your exposed body and paused his message to his father. Making his way to you, he smirks as he sees you trying to move your wrists from the sturdy, iron padlock connecting them to the chain. “It’s no use, ομορφιά μου (my beauty).”

You don’t look at him, your futile attempts at escaping only end in failure. He growls when you ignore him, not acknowledging his clear compliment at calling you “his beauty.” Approaching you, he knelt down in front of you and roughly pulled you to face him by your chin. The moment his eyes met yours, an epiphany hit.

“You’re blind?” He asks, pulling his hand away from you like you were a leper. He knew his father would never take such a broken sacrifice. “Disgusting.” He spat while he stood up. He begins to walk away, your ears barely picking up on his steps thumping in the sand.

“W-wait! Wait please let me go! I wan-want to go home!” You shout his way, but the god only ignores you walking into the sea and leaving you exposed for anything.

In a sense, you were grateful that you were no longer Poseidon's sacrifice. But you were still stuck in your current situation, so you went to your last resort. You started to call out, shout, scream, to anyone who you thought could save you. An hour had passed and your voice was nothing more than a croak.

You were starting to believe that you were going to die on a God's beach with no one in sight to help you. However, someone was watching from afar. A woman who fears to look at you without the knowledge that you are blind. But she was in the same position as you, and she wanted to help you. Yet, she hasn’t had anyone to keep for herself.

So she considered. Would she be just as evil and selfish as Poseidon for taking you? Could she make you believe that she rescued you and instead not let you leave her cave? Stheno and Euryale would most likely not approve, Wandas sisters love her and only want what is best for her. The snakes on Wanda’s head hissed in question, Lucky gently rubbing her scaly head against her cheek.

“I know, I really shouldn’t. But she was a victim of that retched god too. Maybe I can finally feel in control… when I am in control of her? I- I don’t want to turn her to stone…” Fang hissed in response, her tongue tickling her opposite cheek. “I could blind fold her, and you’re right, she needs someone to take care of her. She looks like she’s about to die right there. That bastard…” Wanda says to Fang, starting her journey from the beach's small cliffs to the rock you were restrained to.

Before she makes it to you, she gathers the fruit that fell when the god took you and sets them back into the basket. Then she reaches for your discarded dress and picks it up as well. Finally, she reaches you. Her heart breaks when she sees you. Your wrists are rubbed raw, blood soaking the brown rope surrounding them, tears are stained on your cheeks and your eyes are closed.

Wanda rips a piece of cloth from your toga and kneels down next to you. Peacefully asleep, you are still as she ties the cloth around your eyes. With the blindfold on, Wanda leans her head down to the rope encasing your injured wrists, one of her snakes near the back of her head — the one with much sharper fangs — begins to chew on the rope. The rope broke free and your arms fell loosely to your lap.

The smallest whimper left your mouth, exhaustion keeping you fast asleep. Wanda admired your stoic look, your exposed chest moving up and down slowly with each breath you took. She sighs softly, knowing how it felt to be left exposed, for anyone to come across. Her empathy grew as she looked at you, your nipples were seen through the sheer fabric of your strophic (greek bra) and the wind nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to pebble.

Shaking her head and mentally cursing the sea god, she wraps the fabric of your dress around your body; Adding a length of seaweed to keep it secured to your waist. Oh so gently, she lifted your unconscious body into her arms smiling as your head rolled against her chest. Lucky and Fang were eager to meet you, both of their heads trying to get as close to you as possible.

“Hey, you’ll get to meet her when we go back home, ok? I promise,” Wanda chuckles, and the snakes pull their bodies back to their place closer to her scalp.

The journey to her cave was not very far, just around the bend of the cliff. North of where you were destined to be sacrificed. She took care with each step taken, making sure that her prized possession was still asleep, and comfortable. Lucky and Fang looked over you as you slept, keeping their distance until Wanda let them say hi. As scary as they may look, they are all puppies at heart.

Chills crept up your spine as Wanda entered the cave with you in her arms, and goosebumps began to pebble on your skin. She takes notice, gently laying you down on her straw bed in the dim fire-lit cave. Your head lulled to the side, causing Wanda to jump slightly, forgetting that you had the blindfold on to protect you.

Stheno and Euryale were surprised to see another woman besides their little sister inhabiting the cave, and they curiously looked over your unconscious body.

“Wanda? Who is this sleeping woman?” Said Stheno, creeping quietly behind her sister.

“I don’t know her name yet, but I saved her from an untimely death. Poseidon had gotten ahold of her, hoping for a sacrifice, but was unsatisfied by her,” Wanda explains, sighing as she drags her knuckle down your lightly textured cheek. “That bastard is nothing but trouble.” She sighs, trying her hardest to not look at her sisters, understanding that even immortals can turn to stone with one gaze at her eyes.

Euryale eyed Stheno, worried that Wanda may be turning into someone she swore to never become.

“Did she come willingly?” Euryale asked, settling her wings against her feathered back.

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but I am sure that she will understand, right?” Wanda was anxious about your awakening, your acceptance of your stay was appreciated and not feared. “Should we wait outside until she wakes up?”

Wanda's older sisters nod their heads. “I don’t want to frighten her when she opens her eyes. I believe we would be some of the last monsters she would want to see.” Of course, they don’t know that you are unable to see…

“I will go tend to the sheep,” Euryale said.

“I will go set up a fire on the beach and start cooking your meal,” Stheno said, both creatures leaving to do their tasks.

“And I will go help, and wait for my sleeping beauty to awaken.” Wanda says with a smile, softly swiping her thumb over your cheek.

~~~~~~~

The same as every other day, your eyes open to a blur of shapes and colors. However, this time is different- you are met with complete darkness, the atmosphere is cold and almost damp, and the scent of salt water fills your nose. There is cloth over your eyes, something you don’t take mind to. Trying to find where you are, you feel around your surroundings to retrieve your guiding stick only to be met with sand, small rocks, and straw. These sensations were familiar but not something you would regularly wake up to.

Standing up, you struggle to navigate through the cave you concluded you were in, reaching for a wall or something to stabilize yourself with. You let out a sigh of relief as your hand reached a rocky wall. Now you were stuck, you didn’t know what way led out of the cave.

“Hello?” You call out, your voice echoing through the cave. Your head turns in the opposite direction as you hear padded footprints against the sand. Your worries heightened, unknowing of the person approaching you.

“Hello dear, I’m so glad to see that you are awake, how do you feel?” The smooth voice of a woman is heard. Gentle, yet assertive. Confusion melts across your face and you take an unintentional step back, causing a slight hissing from the woman in front of you.

“I- I feel fine, wh- where am I?” You ask, distressed and scared. Being unable to see every day was fine with you, as long as you knew where you were. That fear skyrocketed the moment you woke up in a new environment.

“No need to worry about that, sweetheart. Come with me,” The woman said, and with a soft hand, she grabbed yours. The unexpected contact started you, but you followed nonetheless.

“Who are you, a-and why am I here? I want to go back to my home, please.” Cracks in your voice made Wanda turn to face you, only to be met with tears rolling down your cheeks.

She sighs and stops just at the entrance of the cave. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you are safe here now. That god won’t get you here.”

“God?” You don’t remember what had happened the night before, your memory fogging up after falling at the crossroads. “What do you mean, “safe now?” I just want to get back home, the fruit was so expensive.”

Pulling away from Wanda, you grab at the cloth around your eyes. The fabric falls from your head and hits the ground faster than Wanda can stop you. Panic fills her system, and she quickly turns her head away from you, her head of red snakes following.

A soft red tendril of energy hits your temple, and you fall unconscious. Before your body hits the ground, Wanda turns and catches you just in time. Guilt takes over her as she looks at your sleeping form, Lucky and Fang are equally as concerned for you as their host.

The scaled head of Fang nudges against Wanda's cheek, a small hiss emitting from her mouth. “Yes, she’s ok. She was nervous and wanted to see where she was, I know that. Im just going to put her by the fire until she wakes up.” She responds to Fang, her little eyes rolling as she gently taps his head from getting any closer to you.

As gently as she can, Wanda lifts you into her arms and brings you out to the fire that Stheno lit. She sits down and lays your head in her lap, softly brushing a few grains of sand from your cheek. A groan emits from your closed lips and you subconsciously roll your body closer to the warm fire. It brings you a sense of safety a blanket could never do justice.

But the feeling of being so close to Wanda felt just as safe, even though you did not know where you were or who you were even with. Her presence gave you a comfort that you hadn’t felt before. Her soft toga rubbed against your cheek, and you nuzzled into it subconsciously. Wanda’s lips turned up into a smile, petting your hair with a gentle hand. The sensation begins to wake you up, pulling you from your forced slumber. Slowly your eyes open, the dull shade of yellow filling your blurred and confined field of vision.

The blindfold was still on, however, you didn’t mind this time. Whoever’s hold you are in made it clear that they do not want to be seen. Although you are unable to see, you keep your eyes glued to the fire in front of you, the light slightly dimmed by the blindfold.

“Are you awake, dear?” Wanda’s voice sounds from above you, and you nod your head that lays in her lap.

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice filled with curiosity but not fear.

“My name is Wanda, and you are here with my sisters Stheno and Euryale. You are safe, sweetheart.” Wanda responds, her knuckle softly dragging down your cheek. She smiles as you begin to sit up, allowing you to fully sit next to her.

Your next question was quick to exit, “Where are we? I was on my way home but was turned around,” You explained your situation, leaving out the part where the god almost sacrificed you to his father but left you for the dead when he decided you were not good enough. “I hear water,” You point out.

“Yes, we are on the beach a ways North from Athens. You needed help, as when I found you, you were chained to a rock,” Wanda said bluntly. “But you’re safe now,” Her snakes hissed at the thought of the woman in front of them being used as a sacrifice, but Wanda was quick to hush them. “And what is your name, sweetheart?”

The feelings of the rope around your wrists caused you to cringe in disgust, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“R-right…” You respond, trying to get the thought of death from your mind. Shaking your head, you sigh softly and lean back on one hand, answering Wanda's question, “My name is Y/n.”

“What a beautiful name, but I think I’ll stick to calling you sweetheart. Is that alright?” Wanda asks, her finger softly brushing over the exposed skin of your arm. A small smile grows on your lips and you nod.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” You say, a small giggle leaving your mouth. “I- um, I do have to ask. Why am I blindfolded?” The question was burning at the back of your skull for what seemed to be hours. From the first time you woke up to now, you had been aching for an answer.

Wanda hesitates. When she was turned by Athena, she never looked at her sisters. Even though they were immortal, they could still turn to stone if they met her gaze with their own. You hear a soft sigh and her soft voice tainted with sadness answer, “There is a dangerous creature around here that has the ability to turn any entity into stone once you look into her eyes. I cover your eyes for the purpose of protection.”

“But I can’t see,” You protest, reaching for the fabric. Wanda's hand wraps around your wrist as she stops you. “No, you don’t understand, I can’t see, even with the blindfold off. I was born blind," you explain, trying to help the woman in front of you understand that you were not in danger.

“Blind?” Wanda asks, your hands falling into hers as you move to your knees. “Meaning, you are unable to see anything?”

You nod, hoping she can see you. “Yes. There are only blobs of color here and there, but other than that, I can’t see a thing.” It was always difficult to explain what you could see. There was no reason it should be this hard as you could always say: ‘I can’t see anything,’ but you always go to the ‘blob of color’ explanation first.

“I don’t want to risk it, sweetheart. Blind or not, we don’t know who is not affected by her power,” She pauses, “Ive only just begun to get to know you, I don’t want to talk to a statue of such a beautiful woman.”

You feel heat rise from your neck, to your cheeks, all the way up to your ears. Her compliment makes you smile brightly. “O-oh, thank you…” You say, shyly looking away from her. “I understand, but, I really don’t think I will be affected, honestly!” You attempt to grab the blindfold again, this time successfully ripping it from your head. The fabric falls to the ground and you blink to allow your eyes to settle back to normal. “If I can’t see the creature, I don’t think it will be a bother,” You smile.

Wanda sighs and closes her eyes, pulling her gaze away from your beautiful figure. She hums as she feels your hand against her shoulder, your thumb softly rubbing over her skin. “May I feel your face? I would love to have an idea of what you look like to others,” You ask her, not wanting to seem too forward with your request. “Only if you allow it…”

Wanda keeps her head down, her snakes moving down to your hand to move their little tongues over your skin to learn more about you.

“Oh, oh? What are these?” She hears you say. She is taken aback by the giggling she hears next. “They’re tickling me,” You say, your sweet laughter filling the air. “Is this your hair?” Your finger hovers in the air just above her shoulder and the rest of the snakes lick it as well.

Wanda’s silence is enough to answer your question.

“I wish I could see them, they all seem so gent- ow! Except this little one,” Fang, still a little nervous to be around a new face, bites down on your finger. It was not as painful as you thought it would have been. Wanda jumped at your pain and immediately tapped Fang’s head to discipline her.

“No biting! She is a friend, not an enemy!” Wanda whisper-shouts at her, and you giggle quietly to yourself. “I apologize for her behavior, she knows better.” The snake hisses in return and she sighs as she moves her gaze up just a little bit. Her eyes land on your beautiful breasts, your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your toga. Wanda knows she should not be lusting, but she can’t help it.

You tilt your head at her scolding her head of red snakes, and your hand falls. “I don’t want to intrude on your home. Thank you for saving me, Wanda, but I best be on my way,” You say, standing up. Carefully, you try to reach around for a stick of some sort, nothing close to you. All you can do is stand awkwardly, trying to keep calm as you listen to the waves crashing against the sand.

“No, you need to rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you sit down and we can eat? Stheno has made some bread, and the chicken is just about done.” Wanda tries everything in her power to make you stay, not wanting to force you just yet. In her mind, she knows she will make you stay.

Your stomach rumbles, and Wanda chuckles. “It seems like your hunger has spoken for itself, so lets sit you down again.”

Before Wanda is able to help you sit down, or protest about anything for that matter, you reach up to feel her face, your eyes meeting hers. Although you were unable to see her beautiful green and red mixed eyes, she saw your grey ones. Your irises held no color, and a scar-like line of [your original eye color] strikes through your right eye.

You didn’t turn to stone…

“Wanda… Wanda look!” Stheno exclaims. The woman you are looking up at tilts her head, her power not working on you.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You ask, retracting your hands from her cheeks. Instantly, she pulls them back.

“No, no you didn’t hurt me, sweetheart. I- I am just surprised… my power, it didn’t work,” She says, churning confusion inside of your head.

“Power?” You pause, putting two and two together. “The creature you mentioned… the one that can turn people to stone, you are her… aren’t you?”

Wanda nods, your hands moving with her head. “Yes, and, I was trying to protect you, but-”

Your thumb gently brushes over her lips, the rest of your fingers ghosting over her facial structure, sculpting a picture in your mind. “I’ve only heard legends of a so called “monster” in these parts. But I have yet to meet a monster… Besides that god that tried to sacrifice me of course, but you? You are no monster.”

Your words made Wanda's heart melt. She has me wrapped around her finger already… there was no way I was letting her go. Her inner thoughts were loud, and she smiled softly as your fingers grazed her lips again.

“I’m very. Much aware of my inability to see what most people can with their eyes. But…” You pause, your hand cupping her jaw. “I do see your heart, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. You took me in when I was vulnerable and scared, and I can’t thank you enough… You are no monster, Wanda.” You whisper, smiling as you feel Wanda’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you against her body.

“We’ve only just met, sweetheart…are you already falling for me?” Wanda teases, making you giggle as you lay your hand on her shoulder and drop your head to her chest.

“I might be… or I might just be hungry,” You prod back, your stomach doing somersaults as her lips press to your forehead in a soft kiss. “I hope its the former…”

~~~~~~~

As the night went on, you, Wanda, and her sisters enjoyed the food. You were happy you got to know Wanda a bit more while you talked amongst yourselves. She told you about her troubles with Poseidon, and how she became the 'monster' everybody claims her to be. She mentioned how she is still mortal and will die a death as any other mortal would.

It saddened you that she considered herself a ‘monster’, but you comforted her every time. She was not a monster in your mind. She was a victim who was punished for someone else’s doing, as were you. Although it was Poseidon who made his father angry, he punished you by trying to sacrifice you. You found common ground with Wanda.

“I think we will head into the cave for the night,” Said Stheno, nudging Euryale. “Just be sure to put the fire out when you both are done.”

Wanda nodded at her older sisters, shooing them away as she turned back to you. “It is such a beautiful night… I wish you could experience it the way I am,” She said to you, her fingernails tickling your arm as you lay in her lap. Her heart flutters at the feeling of your body weight in her lap, it grounded her.

“I can see how beautiful it is by feeling it,” You turn your body so you are looking up at Wanda, her snakes curiously looking back down at you. “I feel a small breeze against my skin, and I can hear the waves crashing against the sand. I can smell the salt coming from the sea, and I can hear your breaths. All of these things are such a beautiful image to me.”

Wanda’s lips pull up into a smile, a real, genuine smile. It had been so long since she felt as happy as this. It had been so long since she felt so carefree. As you spoke about your experience with your other senses, Wanda softly caressed your cheek. She hums quietly as she notices goosebumps form on your arms. “I have taken my sight for granted,” She says suddenly, taking in everything you said about feeling everything surrounding you.

“To a deaf person, I have taken my hearing for granted as well, but I am grateful that I can hear your voice,” You counter her thoughts, wanting to make her not feel so guilty about her advantage of sight.

“Your thoughts are just as beautiful as you are, sweetheart,” Wanda pauses, her fingers moving from your cheek to your neck. Slowly she moves closer to the dip in your dress, your breasts now free from their undergarments, and lying loosely behind the fabric of your toga. “You have the body of a goddess, the mind of a sage, and such a sweet personality.”

Her hand gently cups your breast, nimble fingers rubbing over your hardened nipple, peaking through the white dress. Your hand goes to hers, holding it still. She freezes, “Can I see you, sweetheart? All of you?” She asks, knowing exactly how it felt being forced to submit to someone much more powerful than her.

As you sit upright, you untie the piece of seaweed holding your dress around your body, the sleeves sliding down past your shoulders finally revealing your round, perfectly shaped breasts. Wanda sucks in a soft breath, an aching in her belly starting to form. She needed you, badly.

From her crossed-legged position on the ground, Wanda moves to her knees. You can sense her shifting, and you look around to follow the noises. Wanda's smooth hands softly guide you to your back, laying you gently against the sand below you. She then slowly pulls the rest of your dress off, exposing the rest of your beautiful body. “You are even more than I imagined…” She whispers, leaning down close to your chest.

She presses a kiss to the valley of your bosom, moving her lips up your sternum and to your neck, hovering just over your jugular. You can feel her smile against your neck and you turn your head to expose more skin to her.

The goddess above you couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Looking at your perfect body from her perspective was riveting, and it drove her mad. Her breath fanned against your lips, your body frozen and waiting for her to kiss you. That dull aching in Wanda's core grew, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck, and you giggled as some of her snakes licked your hands. But Wanda wanted something else.

Her eyes began to glow a bright red, her head of snakes wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but allowed it to happen. As she leaned down lower, her snakes held your arms to the ground, holding you open and exposed to Wanda. As she continued to kiss you, her hand crept down your belly and to the soft hairs of your mound. She rubbed your petals, smirking against your lips as she could feel how wet you already were.

“Mmm, are you all wet just for me, sweet girl?” She whispers against your lips, chuckling softly as you nod desperately. “Such a good girl,” Her fingers finally dip between your wet folds, perfectly rubbing your button of nerves. A moan leaves your mouth, your legs spreading to give her more access.

“Feels s-so good, W-wanda,” You whimper, never feeling such great pleasure before. Your back arched against the cool sand, your arms still pinned to the sides of your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you saw starts as the tight coil in your core began to form.

“I can feel that you’re close, sweet heart,” Wanda mumbles darkly against your cheek. Your mind clouded with a lustful mist, your legs shaking as your orgasm came crashing down upon you just as the waves did the sand. A loud moan leaves your mouth, Wanda's name being cried out by the woman underneath her.

Your breaths come out in soft pants, gulping in as much air as you can as your orgasm calms down. But Wanda is far from done. Her snakes uncoil from your wrists and she moves her lips down your body, her mouth meeting your dripping folds. You let out a whimper, your clit sensitive from her previous ministrations. “Relax, sweet girl…” She whispers, “I need to taste you,”

Her lips close on your engorged clit, swirling her tongue in just the right way to make you moan her name. She spreads open your pussy with one hand, her fingers prodding at your tight hole with the other, and you jolt in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Wanda's snakes are quick to calm you down, their heads rubbing against your thighs in gentle circles.

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well,” Wanda says, two of her long fingers sliding into your soaking hole, a whimper leaving your mouth at the same time. “Keep making those cute little sounds, love,” She eggs you on and you give in to every command.

Your moans are music to her ears, the frequent movement of her fingers pulling each mewl from your throat. A ‘pop’ is sounded as her lips suctioned off of your clit, but returning soon after.

Her fingers move faster, and her tongue moving around your clit pushes you over the edge, causing your second orgasm to flow through you. Your juices squirt out of your quivering hole, soaking Wanda’s face along with some of her snakes.

“Oh… how beautiful, and delicious you taste, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles against your pussy, pressing her lips to the top of your mound softly and kissing up your body. Her lips wrap around one of your nipples, and your hand reaches to find her pussy.

“Wanna feel you…” You say, rubbing your hand over her belly and lower, finally reaching her pussy as you push your hand under her dress.

“By all means. You are mine and I am yours,” Wanda says, resuming the pleasure of your nipple.

You feel her clit, rubbing her in slow circles at first. Slowly, your fingers move to her hole as well, gently easing into her and smiling as you hear a moan from her mouth. The vibrations from her throat send more pleasure through your nipples, pulling more moans from your own mouth.

As you move your fingers in and out of her wet cunt, the palm of your hand rubs against her clit. You can feel her body shake, her breath quiver, and her breasts against your own body. All sensations you never thought you would love so dearly.

Wanda is close, and she leans up from your nipples to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, her hole clenching around your fingers as she cums. You swallow her moans, your free hand coming up to cup her cheek as you return the kiss.

“Wands,” You whisper, not moving away just yet. Gently, you slide your fingers from her pussy, bringing them to your mouth and seductively sucking her juices off of your digits. “Such a ravishing taste, my love,”

Hearing those last two words made Wanda's stomach do backflips. Belonging to someone was all she wanted, and she wanted you to belong only to her. “Your love?” She asks, pulling away just to see your lips move.

“My love, Wanda,” You confirm, smiling as you lean up to kiss her again.

~~~~~~~

It is long past midnight, and Wanda has you in her arms, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. With your head on her chest, you can hear her heartbeat, the soft thumping calming and lulling you to sleep.

“Thank you for saving me, Wanda. I- I don’t know what how I can express to you how grateful I am,”

That sparks an idea in Wanda’s head. You were a kind and loving soul, most likely willing to do anything to repay someone for their own kindness. So, she makes her plan fall right into place.

“Stay with me? Live here with me and my sisters? We all can tend to you, help you navigate, and we can even go to the village just East of here. But stay, please?” Wanda asks you, her lips gently pressing against your head as you think.

“I have no one back where I am from. They all shunned me because I couldn’t see. I can’t say no to such an amazing and thoughtful proposal as this,” You sit up, maneuvering your body to straddle her lap as she leans against the rock that was settled closer to the water. You nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, Lucky gently laying her head on yours as well, and you close your eyes. “I would love to stay with you, only you. Forever.”

#Creatures and Foreigners #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda marvel #wanda x you #Scarlet Witch x reader #Medusa!Wanda x Blind!reader #Wanda Maximoff Smut #CAF #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader

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kuramirocket · 11 months

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I'm on book 2 of Warriors, Fire and Ice, left off on ch. 18.

The brief moments we've gotten of Fireheart meeting his sister, Princess again and sneaking off to visit her; Sharing memories of her when they were kits and washing off her scent when he returns to Thunderclan. Thinking of how these are such happy moments for him, so much so that he feels confused and almost torn in his duties and loyalties to Thunderclan. Coupled with the resentment, bitterness and anger towards some of the cats within the clan who view him as beneath them for having been born a "kittypet."

And I just. Okay, where are my shipcest shippers at!! I haven't really been active in the fandom yet because I want to avoid spoilers (though I do more or less know what happens between them later. Lol).

And anyways, does this ship have a name? I tried looking it up, but didn't really find anything. If it does not have a ship name, how about Fireprincess? I think it sounds cute and is perfect because if I'm not mistaken Fireheart's name changes again later on to Firestar.

Anyways, Greystripe has the storyline I would have loved to see for Fireheart and Princess. LOL. I want to see the drama and more confusion of Fireheart having to be angry and defend himself seeing his sister who is a non clan member and worse for Thunderclan a "kittypet." I want more drama and angst of Fireheart having to choose where he would rather be - Thunderclan who accepted him, despite some of the cats attitudes and those he has come to care for or his sister who he just found and connected to again. Princess who is so kind and gentle and loves him for who he is. Warrior, Kittypet, it doesn't matter.

I don't know how it would work with the current storyline though - Bluestar being on her last life, Fireheart's apprentice in bad shape, Tigerclaw's shady character, Shadowclan and Riverclan's plots, Greystrip seeing a riverclan warrior. So much stuff happening. Lol.

I just want to see a fic that just focuses on that drama I mentioned regarding Fireheart and Princess. As for the actual shipcest. I'm not far enough into the series so I also don't know how the clans and kittypets would view a brother/sister relationship that is more than just sibling love. But for, sure I am all for the forbidden romance trope it could bring! Adds to the drama and angst!

It could make it even more better if imagine an au, where for his sister, Fireheart decides to leave Thunderclan no matter how grateful and how much he has come to love some of its members. I can see Bluestar respecting his wishes because she's a very wise and patient leader. Idk how Greystripe would react, guess it depends if his own love plot is still in this au. Lol.

But anyways, Fireheart decides to leave and imagine him starting his own clan made solely of kittypets. The ones he grew up with. Maybe like a best of both worlds scenarios. The kittypets can still live with and enjoy their two legs, but also have their own territory close to the two legs they guard and patrol. So they can be somewhat wild, but still have the comforts of a kittypet life. Idk how feasible this scenario would be, but I just think it's fun to think about. Especially, if Fireheart and Princess are sort of the "queen" and "king" of the clan and can eventually and finally be free to fully love each other and share a life together.

Idk what any of this is. I have lot of thoughts. Lol. I would love to hear everyone else's thoughts. Though, I would be thankful if spoilers could be kept to a minimum if possible cause I want to try and avoid spoilers as much as possible! I just had to make this post cause Fireheart x Princess (FirePrincess if it truly has no ship name) sounds like a cute ship xD

#warrior cats proship #warrior cats #shipcest #fireheart x princess #fire and ice #fireprincess #antis do not interact #antis dni #greystripe #bluestar #tigerclaw #thunderclan #au #warrior cats au #warrior cats franchise

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strawberry-creep · 1 year

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Okay idea, TMNT2012 x Sweet tooth

Mikey (10) as Gus

Casey (18) as Jep

Karai (20) as Bear

Shini (20) as Tiger

Donnie (18) as Aditya Singh

April (20) as Rani Singh

(theyre more like found family not romantic partners tho)

Shredder/ Oroku Saki (old as dirt) as Douglas Abott

Leo (16) as Wendy

Raph (13) as Tommy (could change)

Jennika (adult idk what age // yeah i know shes not a part of 2012 but shjh) as Aimee Eden

Splinter (deceased lmfao) as Pubba (Richard Fox)

Tan Shen as Birdie

and thats as far as ive gotten

Few things i have changed, Both Hamato Yoshi and Tan Shen were scientists who worked together and eventually fell in love and started a family their oldest Miwa, second oldest Donatello, Middle child Leonardo, second youngest Raphael and youngest Michelangelo. Yoshi had always known Martial Arts and taught his children when they were old enough to learn. Yoshi and Shen being home mutagen that is highly dangerous bc they dont know shit abt it yet. Donnie having a love for science and wanting to impress his mom takes it upon himself to go and investigate it which prompts his siblings to want to check it out too. Raph having an obsession with turtles brings his pet to come watch and Mikey crawls in (hes around 1-2 ish at the time). The mutagen spills mutating all the brothers but in different ways: Donnie only gets a turtle shell with all his other features being relatively human like, Raph gets mutated into a half turtle half human hybrid (like regular 2012 raph), Leo has turtle like limbs with the rest of his torso and head being human like, and mikey gets mutated into a half human half turtle hybrid like raph since he was exposed to it super young. Miwa finds them and calls for her parents who at first freak out and then try to find the cause of the mutation to turn their children back. (I havent fleshed out what the virus would be but lets just say the kraang had something to do with it) Then the government starts freaking out about the virus which causes chaos and once they find the mutated brothers they arrest tan shen and Don, Raph, and Leo leaving Miwa alone because shes human. Yoshi is in his lab monitoring Mikey because hes still a baby and just got mutated. Once he catches wind of the arrests he flees into the woods with mikey thinking that Miwa is safe. She wasnt and she and donnie were separated from their mother, raph and leo (who escaped). Oroku Saki being the person people go to for answers sees the potential in Donnies smarts and Miwas skills and decides to keep Donnie alive because of it having his partial mutation be a manipulation point for him and giving him to a wealthy and smart family where he can continue to advance in his studies (the o’neils) while oroku trains Miwa. After a few years of training under oroku miwa and her girlfriend Harmony escape and decided to form their own pack of children who lost their parents the foot clan and train them in martial arts they were taught. Both change their names Miwa becomes Karai and Harmony becomes Shinigami

During the shake down Casey Jones’ younger sister was born her being a hybrid (plot hole i will patch up later) which causes him to freak out

Back with Mikey and Yoshi, Yoshi changes his name to splinter as to not associate himself with his scientific discovery gone wrong and trains mikey for 10 years of his life also telling him stories of how life was and his family before all this happened until Casey finds Mikey and Splinter (dead), Mikey who has grown up with the sense that there was more to the world than what splinter told him wants to go and see for himself and find his family. Casey having a soft spot for hybrids agrees and together they travel

thats as much as im going to write bc its two am and i have school in four hours

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au #tmnt x sweet tooth #i hacent seen anyone do this yet #if someone has @ me please #ill name it something like #Sorry i mutated #?#or something like that #the drawings look so bad but ill edit them tmrw #mwah goodnight silly gay people on my phone #i have only watched up to szn 2 ep 1 #of sweet tooth #no spoils plz #artalacreep

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doodling-dipshit · 2 years

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La Squadra hcs part 2.

After Idk how long I finally finished everyone elses backstories

this post includes Pesci, Prosciutto, Illuso, and Formaggio.

Sorbet and Gelato will get their own post because I have to make up more stuff for them.

Pesci

-Born Cabbrieli Capasso in the year 1980, April 21st.

-He is a Taurus

During the events of part 5 he was 20 years old.

-Pesci was born in the Sicillian countryside to his Italian mother and Polish father.

-Both of them at the time were both fairly young at the time and unmarried.

- Pesci doesn’t know much about his father other than where he’s from, little does he know his father was killed not too long after his mother had gotten pregnant with him.

-His father was killed by Pesci’s uncle, a prolific mobster at the time, for knocking up his sister out of wedlock.

-Pesci was treated as the black sheep of the entire family the second he was born, except for his loving mother.

- When Pesci was 6 his mother remarried to a new man her mob family approved of and had another child.

-He was and still is an absolute and total mamma’s boy but he is far from weak even in his younger years. Pesci worked hard helping his mother take care of the family farm.

-He is a born stand user but when he was younger only the line and hook would appear, dangling from his finger tip.

-He only ever used it to either fish or impress/weird out any cousins visiting.

-When Pesci was 17 his mother had developed a deadly disease, him, his step-father, and younger brother worked as hard as they could to afford treatment but they still didn’t have nearly enough

-A year later Pesci was given a job opportunity from his older cousin, the son of the man who killed his father.

-There was an opening in La Squadra Exclusion and according to the cousin Pesci would be a “perfect fit”.

-This cousin was Prosciutto

-Pesci got in fairly easily with him already having a good grasp on his stand + his cousins insistence on Pesci joining them

- Gelato and Sorbet were in charge of training Pesci much like they were everyone else but once they died that duty was given up to Prosciutto

Extra stuff:

-Pesci smokes weed, everyone in La Squadra probably does (except Ghiaccio) but idc Pesci smoked weed in a dream i had so it’s canon

-Pesci wanted to attend college and get a biology degree but had to can his dream so he could help his mom

-Pesci has photographic memory

-His uniform was actually picked by Prosciutto so if you tell him looks ugly he will give you a nasty glare (he doesn’t like the outfit much either but he’s not just going to just throw away a gift)

-He’s unaware of his fathers fate

-You know when I said in my LGBT headcanons the Pesci discovered he was Bisexual when he got a crush on another member of the team when he joined? Yeah that member was probably Formaggio because I mean he’s Formaggio.

Prosciutto

-Born Giuseppe Capanno in the year 1965, June 14th.

-He’s a Gemini

-He was 35 at the time of part 5

-He was the first son of his mom and dad and was born and raised in the city of Reggio Calabria.

-His father was a notable figure of the mafia gang that had a strong hold on Italy before the rise of Passione, Lealtà.

-Prosciutto is the eldest of 6, being the only boy.

-He lived a rough childhood as he had to spend a lot of his time helping to raise his sisters with his mom as his father was rarely home and when he was he demanded to be served hand and foot by Prosciutto’s mother

-Needless to say he wasn’t fond of his father but he was his only son, he was next in line to become a mobster and follow his footsteps

-When Prosciutto graduated middle school he was forced to drop school and join the same mob as his father.

-He was assigned to work in a small section of the gang up in Venezia working to help silence any people who looked to harm the gang. Not exactly a hitman like he’d become later in life but close.

-He was assigned to work with a younger Sorbet and Gelato, going by their regular names Tito and Claudio

-They were both the closest things Prosciutto had to a father, especially Gelato who he looked up to the most wanting to be just like him when he grew up, composed, strong willed, and most of all caring to his fellow teammates.

-When Lealtà was eventually absorbed by Passione once it finally fell in the early 1990s

-Him, Gelato, and Sorbet had zero resilience in joining Passione, much to Prosciutto’s fathers anger.

-Prosciutto was labeled a traitor to his entire family for joining Passione without a fight, not standing up for the gang his family belonged to.

-His father was killed due to him refusing to leave his gang.

-Not that Prosciutto cared that much as far as he knew he didn’t have a father.

-In 1994 La Squadra was officially formed with Risotto as their leader, much to Prosciutto’s displeasure, thinking either Sorbet or Gelato deserved to be the leader much more than someone with family connections high up in the mob.

-He was very slow to accept Risotto as their leader for the first two years until Risotto was able to prove that he was a respectable leader.

- When a previous member of the gang had died in 1998 Prosciutto immediately suggested letting his little cousin (Pesci) join the gang knowing that he was a natural born stand user.

-Once Sorbet and Gelato had died the duty of training Pesci had been given to him. As much as he likes to pretend that he was unaffected by the deaths of the closest things he had to a father he was an absolute mess when training Pesci for the longest time. Pesci was learning much slower than he was under Sorbet and Gelato, and he couldn’t help but feel an extreme guilt for his inability to teach Pesci the way the ones before him did.

-Whenever he’s on a hit with Pesci he’ll often just say whatever he’d think Gelato would say to encourage not only Pesci but also himself.

Extra:

-Prosciutto is the spitting image of his father, from his dark blue eyes, neat blond hair, even his tooth gap. To try and diverge from his father he grew out his hair a bit but still puts it in buns because he can’t stand his long hair sticking to his neck with sweat during a hit.

-He had a Fiance at some point in his life in his late twenties but completely ghosted her when he got cold feet. Since then he hasn’t been in a committed relationship.

-He actually did meet Ghiaccio a few times before either of them joined Passione. He first met him when Ghia was 6 and Prosci was 15. They met because Gelato and Sorbet invited him to dinner and Ghia was playing Atari on the couch.

-He knows the fate of Pesci’s father and feels guilty of what his father did.

-If he wasn’t forced into becoming a gangster he’d probably have become a writer.

Illuso

-I will be referring to Illuso with she/her pronouns since I headcanon her as transfem so umm yep :)

-She goes by Iris Kontos and was born 1976, October 28th.

-Was 24 during the events of part 5.

-She's a Scorpio

-Was born in Ioannina, Greece to her single mother.

- Her father was absent from her life but she does know he was from Pakistan and has about 6 half siblings

- Had about as normal of a childhood one could have in her situation at the time though had a hard time growing any true interests or hobbies as a child.

-Not to mention how lonely and isolated she felt, not having many friends not because she was disliked by the other children but Illuso had no real interest in making friends.

-It was an uneventful childhood for better or for worse.

-When Illuso was 13 her and her mother moved to Polignano a Mare, Italy.

–Even with the change in scenery Illuso never really socialized with other people her age, she just didn’t want to preferring to instead isolate herself in her room

-Eventually Illuso had dropped out of high school and moved out

-Her life felt bland and in an attempt joined Passione with the hopes of fame and money.

-After the stand arrow had awoken Man in the Mirror she was quickly assigned to La Squadra by Polpo due to how valuable it would be in not only info broking but in terms of stealth as well as how easy it’d be to torcher the squads victims.

-Illuso for the longest time during her training avoided being involved in the direct killing of any of the teams targets so when she actually had to she was a little shaken up to say the least.

-Illuso eventually ended up sharing an apartment with fellow La Squadra member Formaggio

-Illuso spends most of the time in the Mirror world though so Formaggio doesn’t usually see her in the apartment much

-Also y’know that cat that Formaggio stuffed in that bottle? That’s Illuso’s cat Annie.

-Illuso minutes after that scene forced Formaggio to get her out of the bottle.

Extra stuff:

-Illuso is probably the most introverted member of La Squadra especially before moving in with Formaggio who forces her to go hang out at bars and concerts with him.

-Man in the Mirror is a sentient stand it just can’t talk or make much noise outside of creaking noises

-MitM also practices it choreographing with Illuso when doing poses

-It’s also a very affectionate stand in general usually clinging to it’s user

-Oh btw her dad is Steely Dan (Because I love headcanoning random unrelated characters being related)

Formaggio

-Born Nico Columbo in New York City, United States on August 9th, 1976, making him a Leo

-He was 24 during the events of part 5

-I should prob make a separate height hc post because I hate their canon heights (Illuso isn’t allowed to be taller than Risotto) but Formaggio is the shortest member at 5’3

-He’s the oldest of 3

-Most of Formaggio’s childhood was spent traveling as his mother worked as a traveling nurse

-He didn’t have much stability in his life

-When he was in school he’d be charismatic as possible to make some quick friends

-He definitely was the popular kid

-He was also kinda a bully to other kids so he would be able to get on top of the social ladder

-Once he graduated High School he attended and graduated trade school.

-Eventually when his family moved to Naples when he was 19 he decided to stay

-He worked at a job at a retail store but he simply didn’t get enough money for anything other than rent

-After only a few months he joined Passione in 1995 working as a low ranking thug but he impressed higher members of the gang with the unique usage of his stand Little Feat against enemy gangs.

-He was transferred to La Squadra after only a month of working for Passione.

-He quickly befriended all of the other members and tends to befriend any new members easily

Bonus HCs

-He owns an ant farm and sometimes shrinks down to intimidate his ants

-Jack of all trades

-He loves Ska and Nu Metal (Prosciutto fucking hates Ska music and Nu metal)

-Like to play the middle man in arguments no matter what

-He has zero sense of personal space

-He collects vinyls

-Has a cat allergy

-Ignores the fact that he has a cat allergy

#La Squadra #JJBA #Prosciutto #Pesci #Illuso #Formaggio #Hcs #Golden Wind #jojos bizzare adventure vento aureo

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dredshirtroberts · 10 months

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Alright, debrief time

(pretend i was able to find a fittingly funny gif of someone removing their trousers quickly and/or explosively)

honestly there should be *way* more easily findable gifs of this, but my search-fu technique is not doing me any favors this mor...today.

(it's not morning anymore, bummer. it felt like it'd been morning for hours, figured it might stick around longer. alas)

so. This weekend was busy - i mean yesterday was the necessary "everyone recover your spoons and refill your social batteries because we drained them completely" day, but idk if it was enough tbh lol.

Friday was exactly as expected with no concerns during the outing or subsequent hangout. Like i was tired and very much had absolutely Done An Outing but I was doing pretty good all things considered, both immediately after hangouts were done and also the next morning. I was tired, but like. The expected amount of tired and I felt very optimistic about the day. I didn't even really feel like i needed medicine and considering I've felt like I needed to take medicine in the morning every single day this past week, pretty impressive tbh imb.

And Saturday was already going to be the tricky day - i went into this weekend knowing what i was up against, and with the understanding that I was going to probably accidentally do some damage to myself but it's *on purpose*. It has a *point* and I think that makes it different to the rest of the times i've done this to myself.

So even though I absolutely should have and knew that going in, I did not take any medicine because that was the point.

For as long as any of us can remember, going all the way back into rather early childhood, my legs just always get exhausted really fast. I'd get in trouble for sitting down in P.E., my parents fussed at me about it when I was little, and I was told that I didn't actually feel that tired, and that I just needed to push harder because clearly if I was that tired so quickly then my muscles needed to do more work to become stronger. If I just worked them out, they would be stronger and wouldn't get tired so easily. It was on this metric that i ran in 4 half-marathon races with fairly decent time. Just keep pushing, you're tired because you're not in shape enough, just keep going. It doesn't matter that you run at least 3x a week, for longer and longer distances, it doesn't matter that you're going uphill for at least half of that time, it doesn't matter if you're eating a limited diet because the household is once more trying a lo-carb, or similar, crash diet we'll forget about as soon as we take a "vacation" or even just by the weekend, but god forbid I eat anything more than the Allotted Portion Allowed By The Parents before they start saying shit about how I need to eat less or save some for later, or save some for the rest of the family. If I just lost weight, if I was just *stronger* then I wouldn't complain so much and my legs would feel less tired.

In a move that will only ever continue to shock my parents, it did not work. About 15-30 minutes into any outing on a good day, my legs will start to ache like I've been, well, training for a marathon. Which I can accurately describe because i've fuckin done that.

But I've stopped taking note of it because i was told *so young* to just ignore it. It wasn't real, or it was real but everyone else just dealt with it better, or whatever. And by the way, i also was never allowed to sit and rest when it happened while I was a child - the stroller was something I didn't really have access to as good once my sister was born, and that was at around 3 years old. I may have gotten like A Year with access to it still, while she was still papoose-able, but once we needed it for her I was expected to suddenly be able to carry my own weight wherever we went.

My parents really like theme parks, family trail hikes, and going to festivals where you wander around and there's very little seating. I got used to ignoring it and pushing past really fast, but it meant that I just...really did not like going out very much. Our family trips were always kind of through a filter of "I'm not really enjoying myself as much as I thought I would and I have no idea why I'm so grumpy all of the time". it got passed off as teenage angst and my bad attitude, because i couldn't complain because i didn't know what was wrong.

plus it wasn't like complaining would have done me any good. I would get yelled at for voicing a concern or need, and then when I would have a Health Complication that made my parents look bad, I'd get yelled at for not saying something sooner. So I just stopped sharing and would handle my health issues quietly and to myself. I think my parents just assumed I grew out of or stopped experiencing several relatively frequent health issues I kept having because I stopped telling them about it and did my very best to hide what was happening when I was in pain or sick, until I absolutely couldn't. I knew my bad health would be a burden on them, so if I said something and they looked at me with "concern" (read: what appeared to be actual irritation in their alarm), I'd backtrack which I think led to both my being seen as a hypochondriac and a liar.

So this weekend was to see exactly how long it takes me to reach the point of "My legs are tired" and then when I hit the wall of "I can't do this anymore without a break". My partner took me thrift store shopping which was super fun and rewarding, but it really did put into perspective how much I've been hurting myself.

Within the time it took us to walk from the car across the parking lot (not even to the door necessarily yet), I felt the familiar burning ache of overworked muscles and I was like "Alright. Well. Here we go."

I don't know how long we were in the first part of the store, before we walked down to the other, bigger part. I had 2 flannel shirts and was looking at the pants and already my arm was aching. Once I picked 5 total things, we'd moved on from the clothes so I could see what else they had. Traveling through the rest of the store, my arm slowly got more and more tired.

I got separated from my partner in the store (was fine, even with my issue at feeling Lost in Stores) and realized I was starting to crash really fast - I was going to need the medicine I'd brought ASAP, but my drink was in the car, and I had to pay for my things and I didn't know where my partner was.

I found them, we grabbed like 2 more things, they helped carry the heaviest stuff, and we paid and left. Once in the car, knowing it was safe to feel the pain, knowing it was safe to not have to keep pushing and make myself keep going, I realized I couldn't do it.

The day-long shopping marathons the women in my family do, the parties, the festivals, the hikes and the amusement parks, I physically cannot do them. And I don't know how long it's been like this because I wasn't allowed to pay attention to that.

Don't get me wrong, I love all of those things, but I cannot do them under my own power and I haven't been able to in ages.

I always figured if everyone had the option of sitting down and wheeling along rather than having to use their own two legs, they'd take it. In fact, I assumed most folks would just casually dream of not having to stand up ever again, of not having to walk across vast distances from the house to the mailbox, of just not having to...not having to hurt? I figured most folks' legs hurt all the time just like mine and I figured everyone else was just better at dealing with it.

Even bringing out my cane and the medicine didn't really *help* all that much. We rested for a while, but I still really wanted to go to our friends' cookout later that evening, despite my partner now being too worn out for it. I was super prepped to go it alone (had already gotten confirmation and assurance that it was allowed and possible for me to rest while i was there), but I was glad that Meta Prime was also good to go hang out because it is easier with a buddy.

I think adrenaline has been doing a lot of heavy lifting for my body (no pun intended?) because the adrenaline of going to be around friends (plus also the medicine, and the use of my cane and probably also the ability to sit) helped reduce the amount of pain and stiffness I normally would have been in at that point, even by the time we got home. (that or someone was working overtime to push to the front and make it so we couldn't feel it yet - it's a thing i try not to think about it too hard it makes things confusing and complicated).

but even with yesterday spent in bed and high af most of the day, i'm still sore, still tired, still achy. And I just used to live like this. Like no fucking wonder I was useless after work all the time.

I think this has confirmed for me, however, that it might be something to absolutely look into to get a wheelchair. This of course does require that I get my ass in to see a doctor sooner rather than later (yes i know i haven't done it yet i am...struggling with the concept), and figure out how to get them to write me an Rx for one but like. Baby steps. I at least...can confirm that apparently most folks don't spend about half their waking time wishing they were more physically disabled so that it would be seen as reasonable to let them sit and be in a wheelchair and in fact that might be a symptom of being more physically disabled and perhaps sometimes needing a wheelchair.

but yeah i'm just...processing.

i've already taken medicine. It hasn't really done much, considering we're in the Peak Time it should be working, which probably illustrates exactly how bad I feel. I'm going to go back to resting and hope i feel better soon lol

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nordleuchten · 2 years

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btw I was Procrastinating™ and then from my no thoughts head empty state of mind came the question: wtf happened to lafayette's aunt, the Madame de Chavaniac (idk if that's her title, but that's how I remember her, hope you know who I'm talking about here)???

Like, most places I've seen talking about her, she's just like, a side character for either Gilbert or Adrienne, but like, what was she doing the whole time over there? Do we have letters between her and her nephew from his time fighting in the amrev? do we know how she was when the frev was happening? what she thought of Gil's participation and later on imprisionment? when did she died? were the lafayette's present at her death bead or funeral? so many questions about our queen that had to deal with a child lafayette

Dear @msrandonstuff,

This one took me a while to come to, I am sorry for that.

Yes, I am quite aware whom you are referring to. After the death of La Fayette’s father and his mothers return to Paris, our young Marquis was raised by his grandmother and two aunts. His grandmother, Marie, was known as “Madame du Motier” for obvious reasons. His older aunt, Marguerite-Madeleine, was known as “Mademoiselle du Motier”. She had never married because, as the official story goes, she could not bear to leave her family. La Fayette’s younger aunt, Louise-Charlotte, was known as Madame de Chavaniac. She had married the Baron Guérin de Chavaniac and had a daughter with him, Marie de Guérin. After she was widowed, she moved back in with her mother, spinster sister – and her young nephew. La Fayette and Marie were close in age (Marie was a born in 1756) and the two of them were very, very close growing up.

The name Chavaniac might ring a bell for some of you – it is the name of the ancestral home of the La Fayette’s in the Auvergne, where La Fayette spend his boyhood. The Chavaniac in the Baron de Chavaniac had nothing to do with said ancestral home and it is a pure coincidence, that Madame de Chavaniac got this name.

I already broached the subject of La Fayette’s cousin, Marie. She married the Marquis d’Abos and died 1778 in childbirth. La Fayette was in America at the time and the news of her death greatly affected him. He described his relationship with Marie as follows:

Never did a brother and sister love each other more tenderly than we.

The women of Chateau Chavaniac doted on La Fayette and the warm feelings were very much mutual. Although there are no (surviving) letters between La Fayette and his family from the time of the American Revolution, we have several letter from La Fayette to Adrienne. He instructs his wife to tell his aunts that she had had news from him and that he was alright and he also asked if she had heard anything from the two women.

Adrienne was very affectionate with La Fayette’s aunts as well. In a letter to Madame de Chavaniac for example, she addressed the women as “my dear aunt”. Furthermore, she tried her best to render any service and comfort to La Fayette’s aunts that she could.

La Fayette visited the Auvergne more or less regular after the end of the American Revolution and he more often than not brought his entire family with him. On other occasions, Adrienne and the children visited Chavaniac and La Fayette’s aunts alone while La Fayette himself was caught up in business. There is one very memorable letter from La Fayette to Adrienne from March 27, 1783

It was shortly before nightfall that I found myself again in the château where I had left two very dear people who are there no longer. The first moment was terrible for my aunt, her cries and her grief were enough to frighten one. But she gradually recovered, and despite the abundance of her tears, an immense change has taken place since my arrival. I found her horribly changed and aged; but now she has more strength, spends the day out of her room, comes to the table and eats something. Since my arrival, the house has been full of people, and she is busy doing the honors. For myself, I have given up all formalities and think only of my aunt. She talks to me about my affairs and about her own, and I tell her about you, our children, and America. We broached the affair of the Chevalier de Chavaniac; she wants to pursue it, and if she does she really must try to win. But I would prefer that she give up all her property, which would enable us to arrange things as we please. She still wants to go to Langeac, at least for the moment. But I hope that this summer we shall persuade her to come to Paris. I rejoice in the change my presence has brought about in her, and in truth it is miraculous. (…) There is not a corner in this house, not a tree around it, where I do not feel as if I am about to see my aunt and Mme d'Abos again, and I must pay painful attention in order to comprehend that of the three of us I am the only one still living. (…) I plan to leave again on Thursday because it is indispensable to my aunt that I stay until then. She doesn't know the extent of the sacrifice I am making for her. But I know your heart, and I know you would insist on my staying here. It will be ten or eleven days. (…) My aunt loves you tenderly, is very touched by your concern, and is writing you, I think, today. I have carried out your commissions, which are much appreciated. I gave her poor Anastasie's portrait. Have one made of George and Virginie and also have a copy made of the little picture you have of me. If all that is ready, I can send it to her when I arrive.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 5, January 4, 1782‑December 29, 1785, Cornell University Press, 1981, p. 117-118.

Beside the inner workings of the family, there is a lot to unpack in this letter. Marguerite-Madeleine du Motier, La Fayette’s older aunt had just died. While we have no exact date of death, I would suspect that she passed away sometime in early 1783. La Fayette wrote from Madrid to the Comte d’Estaing on February 18, 1783:

(…) I shall quickly leave for France, to which I am recalled by terrible anxiety about the fate of one of my aunts.

We also have no date of death for La Fayette’s paternal grandmother, Madame du Motier, but based on the context that some letters provide, I would assume that she has died before La Fayette went to America, probably even before he married Adrienne. Anyway, Louise-Charlotte, after the death of her mother, all of her siblings and her daughter was now the last La Fayette permanently living at Chavaniac.

The affair of the Chevalier de Chavaniac that La Fayette’s mentions was an inheritance case between Louise-Charlotte and her brother-in-law, her late husband’s brother, that was battled out at the time. The judges had already once ruled in favor of the Chevalier, but La Fayette’s aunt was determined that she was in the right and not the Chevalier.

While La Fayette’s aunt appears to have loved all of her nephews children, she appears to be especially taken with Georges. He finds a special mentioning in a letter from La Fayette to Adrienne from June 24, 1784:

Your Chavaniac trip, if it is possible, pleases me very much. I am very keen on George's going, not only because of my aunt, but especially for his health, so that he will breathe the country air and run without hindrance, and especially without fear that he will do himself harm; and finally, I would like him to be raised without any fastidiousness, and I would rather know he is with the wolves of [illegible] than with the nice children at the Tuileries.

While in America in 1784, La Fayette wrote a long letter to Adrienne on October 10, 1784, broaching, among other things, the topic of his aunt:

I rejoice at all the good you will have done my aunt, and my heart loves to be obliged to you for it. Your conjugal virtues will have impressed M. de Lastic even more, and his poor wife will have glimpsed some disadvantageous reflections. I am impatient to know how our children took to the country and their father's natal air. It will be a great source of satisfaction for me if my aunt has followed you to Paris. If she hasn't consented to do so, try again in your letters to convince her.

La Fayette was not exactly happy that his elderly aunt was living alone at Chavaniac but he would never be able to convince her to move indefinitely to Paris with him. She settled in the capital for a short time and La Fayette’s reaction was nothing short of ecstatic. He wrote to Adrienne on January 25, 1785:

Here I am, very near you, my dear heart, very impatient to arrive, and very happy to feel behind me the distance that has separated us. What crowns all my joy is to learn that my aunt is settled in Paris.

It was Adrienne who had brought Louise-Charlotte home with her after her latest visit.

But by June 12, 1785, La Fayette had written to Henry Knox and told him that he had just returned to Chavaniac in the company of his “aged aunt”.

Louise-Charlotte was at Chavaniac when the French Revolution began and after La Fayette’s imprisonment she was joined there by Adrienne and the children. The people in the area had always held the La Fayette’s in high esteem and the Grande Peur was not felt in Chavaniac. On the contrary, when officials came to arrest Adrienne, the townspeople were far angrier with these officials than they had ever been with their local nobility. The events from now on are best described by Virginie in her book. Louise-Charlotte was at the center of one of the last happy moments the family as a whole would share. Virginie wrote:

My father gave up the command of the National Guard, and set out for Auvergne, with my mother in the beginning of October. The journey was long for they were often obliged to stop in order to acknowledge the marks of sympathy they received on the way. We followed in another carriage, and my brother joined us shortly afterwards. We were thus all assembled together at Chavaniac, with our aunt, Mme de Chavaniac, who was then seventy-two. My grandmother, Mme d’Ayen, and my aunt, Mme de Noailles, came also to share our happiness; but my mother, wearied by all she had suffered, was not yet able fully to enjoy it.

Mme de Lasteyrie, Life of Madame de Lafayette, L. Techener, London, 1872, p. 201-202.

Louise-Charlotte and Adrienne’s mother, the duchess d’Ayen had previously met on similar get-togethers and got along splendidly. The more dire things got, the more the spirits of everybody at Chavaniac suffered. Louise-Charlotte was especially concerned that Adrienne had arranged for Georges to be send away – so much so that Adrienne tried to conceal Georges’ departure from her. Here is what Virginie wrote next:

My aunt, then seventy-three, years of age, who had never, under any consideration, been induced to leave Chavaniac, declared she would not separate herself from her niece and said, with generous abnegation, that she would accompany her even to Paris. They departed followed by their servants, who hoped to make themselves useful by mixing with the soldiers.

Mme de Lasteyrie, Life of Madame de Lafayette, L. Techener, London, 1872, p. 213-214.

As a short clarification, everybody called Louise-Charlotte their aunt, La Fayette, Adrienne and their children as well, even when the woman was not technically their aunt.

The soldiers had no arrest warrant for the old Lady, but Louise-Charlotte was adamant that they had to take her as well and so they did. This was during the first Adrienne was arrested. Not only was Louise-Charlotte a great support for Adrienne, she also proved to be a great help when business transactions had to be done later.

The sale of my father's property had been for a long time talked of It began by the mill of Langeac my aunt came forward to purchase it with her claim My mother accompanied her to Brioude where the auction was to take place She went to the district Citoyens she said I feel myself obliged to protest before the sale begins against the enormous injustice of applying the laws on emigration to one who is at this moment the prisoner of the enemies of France I ask you to take note of my protestation She was listened to with respect several members even proposed to insert her protestation in the official report No Citoyens she answered you might suffer for it and that would truly grieve me you must not involve yourselves into difficulties out of politeness when you will not do so to avoid committing an act of injustice As for me thank God I have never been accomplice to any I will not be so in this case by my silence and I ask you to register my protestation in a separate note It was decided that her request should be granted

Mme de Lasteyrie, Life of Madame de Lafayette, L. Techener, London, 1872, p. 264-265.

It was also Louise-Charlotte who bought back Chavaniac. Virginie wrote:

She [Adrienne] settled the affairs of my aunt who had just bought back Chavaniac from its purchasers.

Mme de Lasteyrie, Life of Madame de Lafayette, L. Techener, London, 1872, p. 327.

La Fayette himself wrote in a letter to Thomas Jefferson on September 10, 1808:

Our Children being so provided with nine thousand francs, and some Charitable Legacies of my Parents being acquitted nothing remains of my own fortune—The Mansion of Chavaniac has been purchased by my Aunt for a trifling Sum—I hope She will enjoy it long—One half of the Small Revenue around it is by Marriage Contract insured to my Son—The other part will be a little and I hope late inheritance.

“To Thomas Jefferson from Marie-Joseph-Paul-Yves-Roch-Gilbert du Motier, marquis de Lafayette, 10 September 1807,” Founders Online, National Archives, [This is an Early Access document from The Papers of Thomas Jefferson. It is not an authoritative final version.] (09/12/2022)

We know from different letters over the year, that La Fayette visited his aunt roughly once a year for several weeks and he often took his children with them. As they got older and had families of their own, he was mostly accompanied by Georges – who introduced Louise-Charlotte personally to his new young bride.

Louise-Charlotte died in 1811. There is one letter in La Fayette’s memoirs that is addressed to his aunt Louise-Charlotte. It is a bit longer so I am placing it under the cut for everybody who wants or do not want to read it. I hope the answer was worth th1e wait and I hope that you have/had a lovely day!

The Marquis de La Fayette to his aunt, Louise-Charlotte, Madame de Chavaniac, August 25, 1792:

I am in good health my dear aunt; and this is the most agreeable piece of intelligence I can give you. You have learnt by what a chain of fatalities and proscription the most constant friend of liberty has been forced to abandon his country, which he considered it such a happiness to serve. I have seen, for the last six months, the fearful progress of disorganization. Fidelity to our constitution appeared to me the best means of safety. With the assembly, the king, and all good citizens, I have endeavoured to do everything I could, without departing from a constitutional line of conduct, to unite and strengthen us. My efforts have been fruitless. My name is become the signal for proscription; faction on one side, and the court on the other, have ruined the public cause.

It became at length necessary to perish myself without doing good to others, or bend beneath the jacobin yoke, or withdraw myself from the infernal machinations that have been accumulated against me. If juries had still subsisted, and I could have hoped for a legal trial, I would have offered my head to the laws of my country, with the conviction that not one action of my life could have compromised me in the estimation of true patriots; but since the arbitrary will of the first group you meet with decides the question of life or death, a friend of liberty could not disgrace himself by appearing before such a tribunal. I was therefore forced to adopt the painful measure of quitting the frontier.

You must be aware that I might have brought away with me a portion of the army; I most scrupulously sent back even the lowest of my orderlies. I had previously taken every precaution to secure the safety of the troops confided to me; and I directed my steps to the neutral territory of Liege. I there encountered an Austrian post; we declared we were Frenchmen, attached to the constitution, diametrically opposed to the emigrant aristocrats, no longer belonging to the service, and claiming the right of nations for crossing the territory. We were arrested, and against every shadow of justice conducted to Namur, to await, they say, in that small town, the decision of the emperor at Vienna. I told them I preferred having cause to complain of the injustice of arbitrary governments rather than of the injustice of the people; and that the imperial persecution appeared to me far more natural than the Parisian proscription I was labouring under. I must add, however that we are treated with great politeness, and that they have carried attention so far as to forbid any emigrant with a white cockade from coming near us.

I am sending M Bureaux de Pusy to Brussels, to represent to the government of the Low Countries the violation of the right of nations of which they have been guilty towards us, and I hope we shall obtain immediate justice from these representations. I shall then repair to some farm in England, of which the address will be learnt by applying to the minister of the United States in London. I shall lead there the most retired life, and earnestly hope that my country may find a defender who will serve her with as much zeal, disinterestedness, and love of liberty as I have done.

My misfortunes, however, have not changed my principles, feelings, nor language. I am in all respects, at present, the same as I have been my whole life. My heart, I own, is deeply grieved; but my conscience is pure and calm. I doubt whether the chiefs of the different factions who have defamed me can say the same themselves. Madame de Lafayette and my children are no longer, probably, at Chavaniac; I much wish, my dear aunt, that you may have consented to follow them. In any case, shew or send them this letter.

I beg you will remember me affectionately to the sisters, and to all who dwell at Chavaniac. Tell the inhabitants of the commune of Aurac that it would be wrong in them to dislike the constitution because a fellow citizen they love is persecuted. This is as great an act of injustice as was the restraint of their consciences; both acts are abuses; but under the former régime abuses were far more frequent; and the revolution, in spite of all present evils, will eventually secure the happiness of the people. They will therefore always, I hope, remain good patriots. Adieu, my dear aunt; you have, at least, the consolation of thinking that I am no longer exposed to the perils of war. I own that I do not share your satisfaction on this subject, and that the idea of my country’s being invaded, and not defended, by me deeply wounds my heart but, ‑‑ they would have it so. May this proscription not turn to the disadvantage of my country and the cause of liberty! Once more adieu, my dear aunt. I love you most affectionately.

Marquis de La Fayette, Memoirs, Correspondences and Manuscripts of General Lafayette, Vol. 3, Craighead and Allen, New York, 1837, p. 453-455.

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dovestorm-wc · 2 years

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Re-submitting

Name: Downhill

Gender: She-cat

Sexuality: straight

Rank:Queen

Age: 29 moons

Mate: Badgergrowl

Kit(s): Marshkit, Hillkit

Discription of look: A creamie-white she-cat with very long fur and creamish-silver tortoiseshell points(Legs, full tail, muzzle and ears) and blueish-purple eyes(idk if purple is a thing for colors in Sims3)

Personality- Friendly, a good hunter, and adventurous. Often exploring everything.

Story: Downhill is a former member a clan that was destroyed. She travels with her mate and 2 kits hoping one day she’ll find a place that looks like a clan to call home. Often, she tells stories to her young kits about her old home. And how she would run around the moor and catch lots of hares.

—

Name: Badgergrowl

Gender: Tom

Sexuality: straight

Rank: Rogue(Former clan cat)

Age: 30

Mate: Downhill

Kit(s): Marshkit, Hillkit

Discription of look: a black very skinny, short furred tom with big ears and a light gray stripe from his muzzle to where his tail connects. His tail is fully light gray with a white bit on his chest and has amber eyes.

Personality: Territorial, Hunter, and adventurous

Story: Once was a loner who was brought into the same clan as Downhill as an apprentice. Soon becoming a rogue again after it gets destroyed, lucky saving his expecting mate. Now travels along side his mate Downhill and 2 kits.

—

Name: Marshkit

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: None yet

Rank: Kit

Age: 1 moon

Mother: Downhill

Father: Badgergrowl

Littermate: Hillkit

Description: Gray fluffy long furred she-cat with tortoiseshell points(like her mother) and amber blue eyes(one blue, one amber). Has a white splotch on her neck.

Personality: Up to you!

Story: was born 1 1/2 moons after her parents ran from their destroyed camp and have been traveling sense birth.

—

Name: Hillkit

Gender: Tom

Sexuality: none yet

Age: 1 moon

Mother: Downhill

Father: Badgergrowl

Littermate: Marshkit

Description: Large skinny light silver tom with a little dark stripe from his muzzle to tail end. His tail is a even darker silver while he has a white patch on chest. He has dark silver points inherited from his mother. (Ears, muzzle, legs) and has purple-blue eyes.

Personality: up to you!

Story: was born 1 1/2 moons after her parents ran from their destroyed camp and have been traveling sense birth.

—

Sorry if this is too long! But it would be nice to see them! Maybe they could join your clan?

Welp... Time for my first cat edits. At the time of me receiving this ask and writing this response, I have already made Downhill and her kits. Luckily, I hadn't finished saving them yet, so I can pop in real quick to add Badgergrowl and make any necessary edits. Like the kits having swapped genders and Downhill's eyes changing.

Also, whether or not they join a group in Warriors of the Wild will be luck of the dice. I don't control when cats join the clans and community, nor who joins. I play with aging turned off, so they'll still be around if I throw them into the world for later use.

Now, on to the alterations.

Starting with Downhill, the only alterations were her eyes and traits. Because I have an obsession with purple, I have a purple eye set saved that I can alter slightly to add some blue.

I think the last one looks best. So that's Downhill finished.

Next are the kits, since I already have a base to work with. Apparently, along with the gender swap, the kits' coats have changed as well.

Here's the new Marshkit. Getting the colors just right and trying to give her a unique tortie pattern were the hardest parts.

Here's Hillkit's new design, much more difficult than his sister or previous version. The stripe from muzzle to tail was so difficult to get done. It's not perfect, but good enough.

Now to add Badgergrowl to the mix.

Here he is! He was easier because I just took Hillkit's coat and altered it.

Hope you enjoy!

#Warrior Cats #warrior cats oc #creating cats #sims 3 warrior cats #sims 3 #Downhill #Marshkit #Hillkit #Badgergrowl

4 notes · View notes

rockbottomwithashovel · 1 year

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Ask thing<33

51, 63, 03, 18, 69

First of all, I have reached the stage of lacking sleep where I will say any and every thought without remorse. So you're gonna get some weird answers and much more than you asked for, but anyway, love you!!

3. Do you regret anything? Being born?? Nah, yeah a lot of things, but not enough to be important, you know? I don't regret the mistake that I made, that I used to use as an excuse to blame myself for being bullied. He and I made up in the end, but the others didn't accept it. Still, I don't regret it. I'm traumatized, but I learnt a lot. I think I needed a kick in the teeth then (lol that comes out bad when you were there). But I do regret 2 particular nights, which have quite literally scarred me for life. I'm doing all I can to drown it out because I have no therapist. I'm trying to pretend it didn't happen but it's really fucking hard to forget. The other... I'll be vague rather than trauma-dumping, but I blame myself, and I wish I had listened to everyone and my gut.

18. Are you scared of spiders? Well this is an interesting one for an Aussie to answer (it's funny, I'm like, proud to be aussie, but I also hate the government and the system and am PISSED OFF because tomorrow is Invasion Day but it still gets celebrated as Australia Day, anyway this is off topic). So some spiders? Scary af. I grew up reading the spider charts in the nurse's office of "friendly spiders" "got to hospital spiders" "paralyze you spiders" and "kill you spiders" so I'm naturally scared. But then you have Barry the Bathroom spider, I thought he was a daddy long legs, but he is actually a she and having babies. Plot twist, there were multiple Barrys and I didn't know. Living where I live, there is always going to be at least 3 spiders in your house, but as long as they're the OK ones, I'm fine. But if it's on me or drops from the ceiling like a fucking drop bear or something I'm catching that fucker and taking him outside (or taking him out if he looks dangerous)

51. favourite food? Oof, good question. I adore chocolate cake, but I would straight up eat a whole pizza if I was hungry enough and it was the right type. Pizza, and pasta, basically just Italian cuisine, is god tier. Also rice though. Bread is fucking amazing, I had some for the first time all month today, which was fun. Chips! I fucking LOVE hot chips, they're very sentimental to me and my sister given our upbringing, also pot noodles... haha. I so didn't grow up normal or healthy.

63. Would I change my name? OK so I like my real name, I think my nickname suits me. Originally when I was online for the first time I used the alias Raven, but then Shit Went Down, Trauma Was Made, and I decided to go by Scarlet. I feel like if I were to ever legally change my name it would be to either Raven or Scarlet, but I've actually grown really attached to being Rock with this account! It feel most like me now, but I can't tell anyone irl that. idk, it's confusing. Long story short(er) I wouldn't legally change my name except if I do go through with my revenge plans.

69. haha. 69. I'm so mature. Do you believe in soulmates? Yes, whole heartedly, thanks to 3 people: 1) my twin sister, we are platonic soulmates, I will not be elaborating, and my grandparents on my dad's side, who have been together since they were 12 and my grandpa found out my grandma liked him, he walked over and kissed her, and they've been together ever since (they're in their late 80s?? early 90s??) and are perfect together.

This became WAY more rambly than I normally am, sorry!! I'll edit it later, if I remember, otherwise, sorry for the random info dump! Thanks for the ask <33

#rock rambles #tw #asks #gwen moot #ask game

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finelinevogue · 3 years

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the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

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moonyblackwerewolf · 3 years

Text

Betrothed Ch. 4 - Sirius Black

Betrothed Ch. 4

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

Warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, aggressive parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: Oh my god this is so long! I hope you guys like it, i think there is only 2 chapters left, idk yet. Anyway Feedback is always welcome, thank you guys :)

Xxxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5

When Y/n got home, she had time before going to the Malfoys, so she was planning on how to gently tell her parents she didn’t want to go and that she wasn’t going to accept their marriage proposal too. She spend days thinking and decided it was time, because her mom was already telling her to get prepared to go, so she sent a letter to Sirius as promised telling him she would talk to her parents on that day.

Later the family sat down in a living room and waited for Y/n to say what she wanted to.

“So? What do you want to tell us, your father and I are busy” her mother said impatiently, not knowing the bomb her daughter would throw at her.

Y/n took a deep breath and said “I don’t want to marry Malfoy, I’m not accepting his proposal.” As simple as that single phrase sounded like, it cost her so much more. Her parents were outraged to say the very least, how could she misbehave after all those year of being so obedient.

“What do you mean you won’t? Yes you will, the Malfoys are getting their answers next week” Her mother screamed.

To say her parent were furious was an understatement. She was disrespecting not only their choice of husband, but also their ancient family traditions. But in reality that’s exactly what she felt like, those traditions were ancient and full of nonsense, it is completely wrong to promise a girl to some narcissist, conservative, arrogant, aggressive prick and make her spend the rest of her life with him, loosing all of her liberty.

“Are you calling Lucius a prick? He is a member of one respectable family Y/n!” Her father grunted, grabbing his wand.

“Why? Because they’re pureblood?” Y/n yelled, since she was already fighting their principles she might as well do it right. “That’s nonsense why would a blood status change a person? It doesn't change anything, I know many muggle borns who are ten times better people than you are, you think you can judge everyone, just because you’re pure? Or rich? Or call yourself royal? Which is absurd by the way, you and I know there isn’t royalty in our world, you only say that because you want to be better than everyone else, so you lie and you’re powerful enough for people to believe you” she roared, it felt incredible to take some of her frustrations out of her chest for once in her life, she didn’t have to pretend to be a well behaved purist, like she was before.

Mr. Watson wouldn’t believe his daughter, he didn’t want to, so he kept blinding himself from the ugly truth that he was indeed wrong. “I won’t tolerate you disrespecting our tradition Y/n” with a wave from his hands Charles hit Y/n with the Cruciatus curse, taking her to the ground almost immediately.

“Dad! Stop- you’re hurting me, please! You’re hurting me” She cried and begged and squirmed, it felt agonising the pain touched each and every part of her body, the tears ran freely down her face, after being hit a certain amount of times she just felt numb to the pain, she stayed still wrapping her knees with all the strength she had left.

“You are going to marry Lucius Malfoy and you are going to accept his proposal in person when you go to his house, because you’re still going and I don’t want to hear a single complain or any of these ideas you cultivated in your mind, you are going to bring us respect” With no remorse her father left her there small, hugging her legs and crying alone, earning only a polite nod from her mother followed by a ‘I warned you’ look.

The rest of her time at home went by so slow she thought a whole month had passed, she was now feeling so bad being in her own house that she almost wanted to go to the Malfoys. Her parents weren’t even letting her see the mail, which meant she wasn’t receiving Sirius’ letters. Her sister wouldn’t talk with her anymore, scared of having the same fate as Y/n and her brother didn’t even know what was happening with his little sister.

The day she was going to the Malfoy manor had arrived. Her parents dropped her there in that shark tank like it meant nothing, they didn’t even bother saying good bye, she had come a long way from being the perfect daughter, who was always respectful with her parents and their ideals. Being at the Malfoys felt like being in Azkaban, but it was still better than being at home at least, there she was treated with extreme respect by Abraxas Malfoy and his wife, they were doing it out of interest of course but it was better than nothing, her only problem was Lucius, she hated him and hated even more that she’d need to sleep in his bed with him and even more that she’d have to accept his proposal by the end of the week. She felt stuck.

After having dinner Mrs. Malfoy showed you to Lucius’ room, while the house elf carried Y/n’s trunk next to the bed. The room was nice and big but it was cold and dark, she felt bad in there, fear creeping into her chest as her whole body felt numb, she just wished she could be in Sirius’ bed in the dormitories, she didn’t know why but there, by Sirius’ side was the most perfect place to be, she felt warm and safe.

“That’s it sweetheart, goodnight” after showing the room, with a final goodbye Mrs. Malfoy let her there alone, with Lucius. He was handsome, sharp jaw, strong upper body, beautiful face, she couldn’t deny it but it felt so wrong, it was sickening, she didn’t love him, she couldn’t, he was a terrible person.

“Look Y/n/n, I have to say, back in Hogwarts I was a bit jealous from you and Sirius, but now, being here with you, feels so right” he said as he was inching closer to her “Come on, let’s go to bed” his fingers were brushing her waist, the single phrase and action made her feel sick, his touch was ice cold, but what choice did she have. Y/n knew the punishment she’d have to face if she didn’t behave

“Ok” she replied, mouth dry “I’ll go change, in the bathroom”. She opened her trunk and looked for comfortable pyjamas, but to her surprise there were only vulgar sleeping clothes and lingeries, she felt a cold in her spine that made her sicker, her mother had it all planned out, crazy she thought, her mother is crazy. The last straw was when she saw a note from her mom.

Bought you some new clothes for you to share with Lucius.

Love,

Mom

She wondered what would It feel like to have a real caring mother, not one that just clearly wants her to have sex so she can have grandchildren. But she was born on a deranged family. She had no choice, so she just chose the pieces that were most discreet and even those weren't even a bit discreet, it was a black lace bra that at least covered her breasts perfectly and went a bit down and matching panties, if there was something she was sure of, it was that she didn’t want to see Lucius’ face when he saw her.

But again, she had no choice, when she entered the room again Lucius gaze fell directly on her chest. “My eyes are up here you know right?” She asked with a bored voice, while lying down in bed, much to her dismay.

“Feisty” he chuckled lying in bed besides her “I’ve always liked you Watson” Lucius was being a tease but she could see it in his eyes that he was drooling over her. She hated it. So she turned over and closed her eyes, wanting desperately to sleep for the whole time she’d be stuck there “Good night for you too, love” the nickname Sirius used to call her seemed so cold now, sounded fake coming form Lucius’ mouth. That night her thoughts kept going back to Sirius, she wondered if he was trying to talk to her, trying to reach her somehow but being unsuccessful thanks to her cruel parents. She missed him, his touch, his affections and she missed Lily, if she was here they’d talk the whole night and then maybe it wouldn’t fell so lonely, she missed reading with Remus, joking and pranking people with James and how protective he was and Peter’s cute but sarcastic comments, she missed her true family.

The next few days sucked, Y/n was running out of the less vulgar clothes, Lucius was always trying to kiss her and get close to her and the Malfoys’ forced kindness was beginning to annoy her, on top of that she didn’t feel like home in this house, she didn’t feel comfortable to do anything, basically she was counting the days until she could go back to Hogwarts.

——————————

Sirius knew something was wrong when Y/n didn’t answer any of his letters, assuming that she’d now probably be at the Malfoys, he needed to talked to her. The thought of Malfoy touching her and the things he could do made his blood boil, she was his friend after all. But things at his home weren’t good, his parents were breathing down his neck so he need to find a way to escape, so, of course he asked James for help.

James and Sirius had come up with a plan, but it was certainly dangerous and potentially problematic, just like everything they did. The plan was: Sirius would sneak away from his house, once he managed to do so he would meet with James in his house and the both boys would go pay the Malfoys a visit, once inside Sirius would need to distract the Malfoys since their families are friends while James helped Y/n run away to his house. It wasn’t quite a brilliant plan, they didn’t have much time to think, but Sirius needed to be sure she was safe.

Now Sirius thought he would have great difficulty running away, he waited for everyone to fall asleep to leave his bedroom, managed to avoid the elves, went to the broom closet, grabbed a broomstick, everything was doing great, except for one thing. Sirius’ brother Regulus thought he had herd something and went downstairs, only to find he’s rebellious younger brother trying to run away.

“What do you think you’re doing this time of night Sirius?” Regulus asked not even a bit surprised by his brother’s actions.

Shit, Sirius thought, he had two options lie or tell the truth. He chose the boldest one “Reg, don’t tell our parents” he looked helpless for the first time in his life, Regulus was quite startled “I need to save my friend, she’s in danger. I know we’re not in the best terms but, do this one favour for me-” he paused “I really care about this girl, she’s the Watson’s daughter, you know her”

“What? The Watson’s… you mean Y/n? What happed Sirius? She’s my friend too, is she okay?” He was going to tell his parents before but now he was curious and worried, he liked Y/n, she was nice to him on eventual encounters in their common room or classes.

“She’s- she’s being held captive at the Malfoys” it wasn’t a lie.

“Held captive? And what about her parents? her dad is the Minister of Magic Law Enforcement, what is it you can do that he can’t and on top of that why are the Malfoys supposedly holding her captive?” Regulus was being particularly annoying, he was suspicious of Sirius’ intentions.

“Her parents gave her away, they want her to marry Lucius, but she doesn’t. And i’m willing to ask for her hand if she accepts me, but she wanted to confront her parents, which clearly went terribly wrong” Sirius tried to defend his theses but he didn’t know if Regulus would be willing to let him go or he’d say that she has to marry who her parents want.

“You’re being absurd Sirius, it can’t possibly be that bad, it’s a marriage, considering our families, it’d happen sooner or later. You can’t stop it, if the Malfoys tell our parents they’ll kill you” Regulus was irritated at first, she was only doing what she was supposed to.

“I’m going either way” Sirius wasn’t letting his brother get in the way.

“Ok.” Sirius would be lying if he said he’s jaw hadn’t dropped to the floor. Actually Regulus was quite shocked too, hearing he’s brother say he was willing to marry a girl and a girl that their parents would approve was indeed shocking and he liked Y/n, the thought of her suffering made him less strict with his brother for once.

“W-well- hum ok then” Sirius left as quickly as he could, afraid this was only an hallucination.

James was waiting for Sirius with his bedroom’s window open. When he entered they both went to bed and talked until they fell asleep, the next day would be eventful. Assuming they woke up right before lunch, the boys hurriedly set everything necessary for the plan, muttered apologies to James’ parents and went to pay a visit to Lucius Malfoy. The weather outside was cold, but the sun was shining, making the travel rather beautiful, but the boys didn’t even notice, they were too worried, James couldn’t stop thinking about how Malfoy was treating his best friend, he hated him so much, Sirius had another motives, he hadn’t realised yet and it may take a little push, but he was jealous.

Arriving at that creepy mansion James and Sirius separated, James sneaked in quietly looking for Y/n’s belongings, while Sirius knocked on the door. The house elf asked him to come in and called his master. Mrs. Malfoy was quite surprised but tolerant.

“Good Morning, may i ask your name?” She asked politely

“Oh i’m Sirius Black, Walburga’s son”

“Oh! Sirius what a pleasant surprise, is Walburga going to visit us today?”

“No madam” he paused, grabbing a gift he stole from his parents earlier “my mom asked me to give you this present, I don’t really know why, she didn’t want to tell me what it was” He never lied so badly in his entire life, but knowing Y/n was probably miserable was distracting him.

She found it suspect but didn’t do anything, it was better ti ignore it “How lovely, come in and have lunch with us, Y/n and Lucius will be thrilled to see you” Mrs. Malfoy suggested, probably trying to maintain friendly due to her relationship with the Black family.

Y/n really will, he thought.

When Y/n saw Sirius she felt hope rise in her chest for the first time since beginning of the break, she ran and hugged him tightly, the hug felt warn and safe, she didn’t want to ever let go. But she had to, the action was inappropriate. “Sirius!!! What are you doing here, what a lovely visit” she said winking at him, trying to hold composure but failing.

“Sirius” Lucius greeted him too cordially “Came to visit my fiancé?” He asked with a smug look on his face.

“Not yet, darling” Y/n retorted with a fake smile

Sirius sat next to her at the big table, the room was dark and big, the table was made of hardwood the only light sources were the sun and a weak candelabra, the room had a giant fireplace that was probably the only warm place in the house and heavy curtains. When Lucius and Mrs. Malfoy were distracted, Sirius whispered to Y/n “Say you have to go to the bathroom, James’ waiting for you outside, he probably already has your Trunk”.

His word startled Y/n, that was a dream come true, but she couldn’t “Sirius, I can’t leave, my parents would kill me” she paused to check if no one was listening “If I run it would create a conflict between my parents and the Malfoys and I don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.” She said pretending to pay attention on Lucius’ commentaries “I’m going to stay here” she continued, shocking Sirius completely.

“But your parents want you to get married Y/n, are you just going to- marry Malfoy and the rest of your life with him?” she looked tense, knowing she’d have no choice, he hated seeing her like that.

Suddenly she heard Sirius clear his throat loudly, scaring her “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk with Y/n” he paused, the Malfoys were now looking at him “In private, if you allow us- it’s urgent” Mrs Malfoy looked a little confused but nodded. Sirius took Elena out of the room almost immediately.

“Y/n why in the name of Merlin are you staying here?”

“I can’t go Sirius, I told you, the Malfoys wouldn’t be happy, it could cause a conflict my parents want to avoid” Sirius didn’t look convinced, he knew she was just making excuses but he didn’t know why.

“Really? Isn’t you’re family the most powerful in the sacred-twenty-eight?” He commented mockingly “Why would they be scared of the Malfoys?” Sirius could see the fear in her eyes, she wanted to go but was scared, so he sat her down on a coach near and asked her with those protective grey eyes that made her feel so protected “Y/n, it’s alright you can tell me anything” he said covering her hands in his protectively.

“No, i-i i can’t tell you” He squeezed her hands reassuringly saying that no one would know if she told him. She took a deep breath, e/c eyes staring at his grey ones “If i run, my parents, will kill me” she said eyes now full of fear, it made them look darker.

“Theoretically, right?” He asked concerned, knowing deep down what kind of family the Watsons were, he was surprised with his shock, cursing himself for the stupid question.

“No Sirius!” She whispered shouted “They’ll actually kill me, you want to know how I ended up here at the Malfoys after I told them I didn’t want to come? Do you?” She looked at him waiting for an answer, he nodded “They used two of the three unforgivable curses on me, every day until I agreed to come and marry Lucius” her voice was cracking “They used Imperio, made me not move and then used Cruciatus, I was feeling so much pain that I thought I was going to die and worse, I couldn't move a toe, I couldn’t even try to ease my pain by screaming and moving because i was under their control.” His eyes were now burning with anger “To get me to come here they used Imperio again and I don’t them to use it ever again, I lost all my free will, so what choice do I have?” Her voice was cracking, fighting the urge to cry, only the mere thought of what had happed scared her. “They’d rather see me dead than seeing me go rogue and ruin the family name” she paused, taking a breath and continued, desperation written all over her face “Why do you think i’ve always been pureblood propaganda for my parents? The gracious perfect daughter, perfect sister, the perfect student? because if I did what you do” she gestured at him “They’d kill me” She finished, looking at him, eyes begging for help, face trying miserably to hide her emotions. Sirius was scared, not even his parents had ever done something of the sort and they creative punishers. So he wrapped her in his arms not wanting to ever let her go, wanting to protect every strand of hair in her head. She melted into his embrace, all of the fear and agony being soothed.

“Oh Merlin Y/n, i’m so sorry” Sirius almost cried when she hugged him back tightly, looking for safety in his arms, the arms she knew so well. After a few moments Sirius said abruptly “Marry me Y/n” he felt her body stiffen “Please, I know you can handle this on your own, but I don’t want you to” he paused, caressing her hair “Please marry me, the Black name should be enough for your parents to accept the union, just let me take care of you, please”

For the first time, Y/n didn’t protest, she just nodded and buried her head on his chest, she knew this plan was reckless and would make her parents angry, but she couldn’t control herself, it was like her body couldn’t take the pain anymore. “Y/n, go find James, he’s outside. I’ll talk with Malfoy, please just go, ok?” He kissed her forehead, as she stood up and went to find James.

Sirius went back to the dining room and explained that Y/n had to go home, because she would refuse Lucius’ proposal. The Malfoys were startled and outraged, she didn’t even have the guts to tell them herself? She had to bring another boy? It was all a waste of time and i’d be a disgrace for the Malfoy name if someone found out their son were rejected by a Watson, but surprisingly Sirius managed to convince them, no one created excuses as good as him. Surprisingly the Malfoys didn’t try to stop him, it was a miracle, even though they couldn’t do anything since Y/n wasn’t their daughter and it’d make a scene that could ruin their reputation, that wouldn’t last long though, they needed to run, because they would certainly contact Y/n’s parents to give a piece of their minds, it was a deal after all, they didn’t understand what happened.

“Well then Mr. Black, we hope everything’s turns out to be fine” Mrs. Malfoy politely sneered with a wave of goodbye.

“Eh-hm Thank you Mrs. Malfoy, we’re sorry for the inconvenience” Sirius said a bit nervous, leaving the room as quickly as he could.

While Sirius was talking with the Malfoys, Y/n was running to the front gate where James was waiting for her. “Y/n/n!” He shouted as he saw her running his way, when she arrived he wrapped her in a bear hug lifting her off the ground. “I’m so glad you’re okay” he said warmly, form this day on, feeling her fear as she hugged him back James considered her his sister and she considered him her brother, since he protected her, risked a rescue when she needed the most, that meant the world.

“I’m glad to see you too Prongs” she chuckled lightly at his protective brother hug.

“Here” he said pointing to his broomstick “We’re going together, to my house, when Sirius arrive” she nodded climbing up the broom behind him.

James and Y/n were already waiting, ready to leave, when Sirius showed up getting on his broom saying “Let’s go, let’s go before they warn your parents” and taking off, James following right after. Riding their brooms fast against the cold winter air, happy that their mental plan had worked. When the trio arrived at the Potters, James’ mom was in the garden, certainly not expecting her son and his friend to arrive with a h/c girl with e/c eyes stained with tears.

“James, care to explain?” His mother asked unable to hide her surprise, but going to help the girl and try to calm her down “Let’s go inside, i’ll make you some tea sweetie and you two will explain me what happened” she said looking at the boys.

So, once inside, the boys explained what Y/n was going through and how she was being tortured and forced to marry Malfoy. Euphemia, was disgusted with Y/n’s parents, she had heard of their reputations before but this was cruel. During the whole explanation Y/n was quiet, riding out of her shock, they guessed, until she spoke and everyone went silent “I need to to my house” she said so low it was almost inaudible, they were sure they had heard it wrong but then she said it louder this time “I need to go home before things get worse” the room went silent.

“You’re not going back there Y/n” Sirius was the first to talk, desperation in his voice.

“They’ll kill me if I don’t go back”

“There, One more reason, it’s not safe” James added, but she insisted.

Sirius stopped, looking at her “Ok then, I’m going with you, after I pay mommy dear a visit. Can you wait only until that? i’ll be as quick as possible”

“Yeah Y/n wait a little and calm down, you can stay here until he comes back” James said patting her shoulder gently.

“No, I don’t want to bother your parents, I’m fine” she said shyly, earning a shrug from Mrs. Potter “-and I-i don’t know how long it’ll take until my parents find out i left the Malfoys, it’s too risky”

“Dear, calm down, there’s no problem in you staying here, I promise, wait for Sirius, he’ll be there for you, your parents are not going to hurt you. If your plan doesn’t work then you can stay here with us, just rest for a bit” Euphemia said with a motherly smile on her face.

“But Sirius don’t you think your parents will be warned too?” Y/n tried to protest but James’ mom was already showing her to her room.

Y/n was so tired from the restless nights at the Malfoys, from the fear she constantly felt that Lucius would do something to her and from her parents, that when Euphemia offered the guest room and put her there, she drifted to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Sirius caressed her hair and laid beside for a minute to make sure she was alright after the turbulent events from the break.

While she slept he told James about his plan to marry her, He was a Black, her parents would certainly be pleased with the union if the anger from the Malfoy incident passed and his parents would never refuse to wed him with a Watson, it’d be like refusing royalty, maybe it’d be difficult to explain the latest incident but anyway it was the offer of a lifetime. “Wow, Sirius are you sure? I mean, I want to save Y/n too, but- this, are you sure? This whole marriage thing is mental” James gasped.

“Her parents won’t let her stay here, they’ll try to get her back and make her marry someone else, since we humiliated Lucius, they won’t stop, I know how these people get” Sirius stated “But if I go to my parents and convince them to ask her hand to the Watsons, since she’s not officially betrothed to anyone yet, not only they’ll be thrilled but they’ll also do anything to convince her parents. And my parents would Betroth me one day too so this is just the best option for both of us” James couldn’t argue, it was a good plan in the rough.

“So you’re getting married, that’s serious” James teased “Our dear friend Y/n/n will be future Mrs. Black” he laughed hard at Sirius’ blushed face. “Oh Merlin!” He pointed a finger to Sirius “You like her! You- fancy Y/n, Merlin” James was so excited “It all makes sense, this friends with benefits thing would never work and that’s why you’re so relaxed about marrying her, because you fancy Y/N/N, Merlin!”

“No I don’t, shove off Prongs, you’re hallucinating, we’re friends” The blush on his face wasn’t ignored by James, who laughed harder “Now, i need to go home and convince mommy Black to talk to the Watsons” Sirius cut James off, leaving the room heading to the hell he called home.

“Whatever you say Pads” James yelled from the kitchen.

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

taglist: @msmb ❤️

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

Madness

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Blaeja

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

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

Word Count: 4.7k (I’m sorry lol)

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

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

Also, I kinda went a lil overboard :/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are scaring me.”

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You refuse to think madness is a bad trait.

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

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

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

“If you say a wife…”

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

“They want me to marry Alfred.”

“And you don’t want to.”

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

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

“But you don’t want revenge.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

“If you could go closer to York…”

“Or you closer to Tamworth.”

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

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

You sigh, “Then I don’t know, Ivar.”

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

“Against Alfred?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a king now.”

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

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

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

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

“No, but…”

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

“Now?”

“Why not?”

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

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

___

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

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

Thank you, I hoped you enjoyed <3

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings #vikings imagine

306 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 3 years

Note

Oksy so don’t feel like you have to do this but nesta and the kids go out grocery shopping and they bump into THOMAS FUCKING MANDARY and Nesta gets super overwhelmed but she’s got the kids and shit so she pretends she’s fine

But later cass comes home and the kids tell him what happens.

(and maybe they have a talk on important stuff about being with someone who loves you and if someone hurts you they don’t love you and it’s beautiful Idk)

Loving And Caring

Nessian modern au set in the The Seven Of Us universe (masterlist)

acotar next gen fan fiction

A/N: This is the reason I’m gonna fail my English exam, so please enjoy:)

The children’s ages: Ezra is 11, Cal is 6, Nora is 3 and Celia is 2. Andra is kinda not born yet.

DON’T COME FOR ME FOR BEING SLOW AS FUCK OR FOR WRITING SUCH ANGSTY PROMPTS. I HAVE 70+ IN MY ASKS BOX AND THEY’RE ALL SO ANSGTY

Word count: 8,185

"I want it!"

"I don't-"

"No, I want this!"

"I said I wanted it first."

"You did not!"

"Mom!"

Nesta Archeron had been called many things in her life. Daughter first. Then sister and friend, woman. She had been appreciated by all the professors she had had the honor of meeting during her studies, who had called her the best in her classes. She had finally found someone who had sincerely called her love and then wife, and she would not give up that last acquired, very important title of mom for anything in the world, but-

Right then she just wanted to strap her kids to the cart and run.

Walking down the cereal aisle, she ran a hand over her swollen, ready-to-burst belly, realizing that she would have to trip and fall on her bump if she wanted to end the problem for good. The baby girl, for whom they still hadn't chosen a name, would be born in a few weeks, and if she didn't get rid of her, too, she would never find peace.

She giggled - or at least she thought she did - at those morbid, disturbing thoughts for which many people would surely have her locked up in a mental hospital, if they found out how often she admitted to wanting to abandon her children.

It had been such a tiring day. She had been home from work for a couple of months now, this fifth pregnancy was breaking her down physically and mentally. She was at the end, in her eighth month, but she would much rather have the last baby out and inside the cart with her sisters by now.

Celia and Nora were babbling something in their imperfect language, and Nesta's heart clenched for her little men at the thought that they would be outnumbered in a few weeks. She and Cassian had experienced that feeling only three years before, and yet she still hadn't forgotten the terror she had felt at the idea of her children turning against them.

They had created a small army.

Casting a quick glance at Ezra who was sneaking something into the cart, she huffed. If the others noticed that he had put a package of junk food in the basket, that would be the end of it.

Moments later, in fact, Cal was looking at the colored bag in the still empty cart with suspicious eyes, and Nesta wasn't going to wait for the fight over who could buy the most junk food that day to begin.

"Ezra, put the snacks back," she said rubbing her hands over her eyes.

Celia mumbled something as she sat inside the cart, and Nora, silently settled next to her, nodded, as if she understood what the other was talking about. It shouldn't have shocked her, but Nesta never ceased to be amazed by that way of communicating that only the two of them understood.

Ezra's icy eyes turned sad when he looked at her and he pouted, "But mom I need them for snacks for school."

Cal looked at him with a furrowed brow, "No you don't. I need them." then he turned to Nesta, "But I don't like these, can I have those?" he asked with a bright smile pointing across the aisle with a wave of his arm.

She leaned forward, sighing and not answering him. Nora looked up at her and reached out her hands toward her mom, letting her know she wanted to be held, but Nesta was aching.

Cal and Ezra hadn't stopped bickering for half a second, and Celia had cried all day because she wanted her dada. Nora had stayed in Nesta's arms the entire walk to the grocery store, and one way or another she knew she would have to carry her all the way back home as well, despite the unbearable back pain. It was less than two kilometers, but with a pregnancy running out and only one hand to restrain any possible child who threatened to throw themselves under the cars whizzing by, it became more mental work than physical.

When Nesta smiled lovingly at her, trying to make her understand that she couldn't hold her right then, Cal burst into tears.

Her daughters' little heads snapped up at their brother, and Nesta cursed herself for deciding to do something as stupid as taking her four young children to the grocery store on an evening when they were all visibly on edge and stressed.

"Dear, what happened?" she asked without even an ounce of concern in her voice. She knew full well that it was just a tantrum. She got confirmation of that when Ezra replied in a whiny tone that they couldn't both buy snacks, or they wouldn't know how to carry them home. At that point Cal's cry became a proper scream and Nesta had to close her eyes to avoid the judgmental stares of the people passing by.

She brought her hands to her temples, massaging her forehead in circular motions, and when she thought she could handle it without throwing up on each of her children, she leaned against the cart, circling around Ezra and crouching with no small amount of difficulty in front of Cal. One hand on her back and the other still clinging to the cart, she grunted as she put one knee on the ground. She felt Nora's little hand rest on hers as she began to speak, "Listen kiddo, we're all very tired and now your brother is going to put his snacks down too," she explained, giving Ezra an inquisitive look over her shoulder. The eldest son rolled his eyes, but he had Celia hand him the package and snortingly put it back. Cal sobbed, sniffling, and Nesta laid a hand on his shoulder, massaging his arm. "How about we read a book together tonight before bed?"

The boy's face scrunched up in a grimace of sadness, "But I want snacks." he sobbed louder. Nesta bit her lip, knowing full well that the fat tears on his cheeks weren't really for the snacks and that she couldn't give in and let them all buy something or she'd end up with two bags full of junk food to carry.

Cal hadn't slept that afternoon, as had everyone else, because of Celia's endless crying, and she hadn't wanted to take her afternoon nap until it was too late and Nora and Cal had gotten out of bed to go play in their rooms. At that point Nesta had been forced to let Celia go, but she knew that had meant agreeing to spend an evening with frustrated and not-rested children.

She was about to respond when a couple of older ladies walked by them, casting an annoyed look at Cal. Nesta would have liked to respond with an ugly hand gesture, but she couldn't do it in front of her children.

In that moment of distraction she hadn't realized that Celia had also started calling her and now, casting a quick glance at her daughter, she felt a very bad feeling sink into her stomach at the sight of the little girl's tear-filled eyes.

She looked at Ezra, taking a deep breath, and noticed that even the oldest of her children seemed bothered by the course of action Nesta had taken. She felt tremendous guilt at seeing that the only one of her children who didn't seem disappointed or angry with her was Nora.

It all got worse when one of the two ladies who had just passed her said loud enough so she could hear her, "I don't understand why some people don't stop with their first child. It's obvious she can't even handle one, listen to her screaming."

Nesta felt the emotion grow in her throat.

"When someone isn't born to be a parent, it shows immediately. She's one of those awful mothers who doesn't know how to take care of her children." the other added.

Nesta caught her breath, fixing her gaze in Cal's. Celia was crying by now, spluttering to be picked up as she tried to keep her balance inside the cart.

She wasn't going to answer. She wasn't going to answer.

"Let's go home." she whispered suddenly, laying a hand on the small of her back and pulling herself up with a tremendous effort, a twinge of pain went through her legs and back, "Cal, dear, we'll buy the snacks another time, for now we'll just take the bread and milk, tomorrow come back with daddy and take whatever you want, okay?" she spoke quickly, in a high, steady voice so that all four of them could hear her. She just hoped they didn't hear how desperately she was trying not to burst into tears over what the ladies had just said.

Cal nodded, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and immediately stopping crying. Ezra looked thoughtful, but he too had stopped pouting. The only one who still looked upset was Celia, who followed her by walking inside the cart, moving where she stood.

Seeing the little girl's red face and dripping nose, arms outstretched toward her, Nesta heard only the words "awful mother" repeated in her mind.

With a knot in her throat and a cry that she was sure would break free as soon as she stepped into the house, Nesta pushed forward, bumping the cart with her belly as she picked up Celia and placed her on her side. The little girl immediately stopped crying, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and cupping her tiny hand over her shirt.

Now, beyond the emotional wound that had just been inflicted on her, Nesta could feel the pain in her back growing with every step she took. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop a sob that threatened to break that composed attitude she had.

Everything hurt so bad.

Cal was running in front of them all, stomping his feet on the ground and making the little lights on his shoes glow. Ezra was walking beside her, one hand on the edge of the cart as he mouthed off to Nora, but he had to stop when Nesta froze in the middle of the aisle, taking an abrupt breath. She brought a hand to her belly, feeling the baby move and kick, only adding to the pain.

"Ezra, love," she breathed, stepping aside and holding Celia against her side, then asked between her teeth as the baby continued her assault inside her, "could you push the cart?"

He nodded, his face lighting up as if she had asked him to take control of a ship.

Celia began to squirm on her side and Nesta had the urge to drop her, not voluntarily, but it all hurt so much that her body was begging her to sit up, to take all that unnecessary weight off her arms.

At the idea that she would have to walk home she felt her eyes grow heavy with tears.

She put Celia back in the cart, breathing a sigh of relief as some of the pain eased in her lower back. Nora was now standing and smiling at Ezra, who was struggling to see where he was going past his sister.

Nesta looked up just as Cal hopped out of the aisle and fell to the ground, crashing into someone's cart. Or rather, as someone ran over him with their cart and slamming him to the ground.

She didn't even think about it as she started walking as fast as her body would allow towards her son, leaving the other three behind. By the time she reached him, Cal was standing there laughing in amusement and was running his hands over his pants to get the dust off his palms. Once she made sure he wasn't hurt, she was ready to yell at whoever had dropped her son, ready to take out all her frustration and doubts on the stranger, when she heard a voice that sent chills down her spine.

"Nesta Archeron?"

She moved her head so fast she was surprised she hadn't snapped her neck, but her brain didn't have time to process the pain the jolt had caused her, because there standing before her was Tomas Mandray.

She couldn't believe it.

Any thought of yelling at the stranger vanished like an echo in her mind.

How was it possible that he was there?

"Is it really you?" he asked her with wide eyes and an incredulous smile on his face. He circled the cart, shifting his gaze to Cal, and Nesta felt the overwhelming instinct to grab her son and hide him behind her. When Tomas reached out a hand toward him, ruffling his hair, she felt vomit rise in her throat. They had to get out of that place immediately. "I can't believe it." he voiced her thoughts, "Is this yours?" he asked looking into her eyes again.

This... he was talking about Cal.

She couldn't find the words and continued to stare at the man in front of her with wide eyes - scared eyes, if you knew Nesta, if you knew where to look. And Tomas knew it. Tomas had always known it.

She heard Ezra reach them, and then something slammed into her side. She didn't need to lower her head to catch a glimpse of Nora's little pigtails of black hair or hear Celia's amused giggle.

Tomas snorted a laugh out of his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are they all yours?" then moved his gaze to her belly to bring it back up to her breasts and Nesta wanted to say something to him, to insult him, to hit him, to take him away from her children, but she felt her heart pounding in her throat and the air couldn't reach her lungs.

That tone-

That tone wasn't of someone who was happy to hear that you'd made a new life for yourself after they'd managed to destroy you completely. It wasn't the tone of an old friend who you hadn't seen in years and who you're about to agree to hang out with and tell them about everything that happened in your lives.

No, it was the tone he had used every day, every hour, when he needed to belittle her, when he needed to make her feel insignificant, worthless.

"Mom?"

Nesta turned her head so slowly toward her son, blinking, that she must have seemed like another person entirely. No longer the proud, strong woman she'd shown everyone for years on that side. Ezra had one eyebrow arched, as if wondering what was going on, and was clasping hands with a jumping Celia.

She didn't have the energy to turn around, to look at the man who had pushed her to the bottom of the barrel and destroyed her, but she managed to throw out a weak, "Kids we have to go, we're not taking anything." then turning to Cal, she took his arm, pulling him towards his siblings, "Let's go."

She felt Tomas' eyes creeping over her like slimy hands. She could still remember the last time he'd touched her, when she'd gone over the edge, offering herself to him to avoid yet another fight or worse.

For that, when his true hand tightened around her wrist, pulling her slightly to let her stay there, she flinched.

"Nesta."

She spun around, bringing her free hand to her belly for protection. When the little girl inside her kicked again, making her groan through her teeth in pain, Tomas smiled in a way that made Nesta hope she was anywhere but there.

"Is she kicking?"

And then it all happened quickly. She couldn't move, couldn't pull away, as the grip on her wrist tightened and Tomas pulled her closer to him and placed his other hand on her stomach, next to hers. A soundless sob escaped her control and her breath labored as she felt his fingers move over her shirt.

She was going to throw up.

She gave a tug so hard that the twinge of pain started at her wrist and reached her elbow, but she was free. She smacked the hand on her, taking several steps back and bringing Cal with her. She had started pushing the front of the cart, trying to position it in the direction they had come from.

She met Ezra's gaze for a moment, before her son's eyes slipped behind her, on Tomas' figure.

"Ezra." she called to him in a firm voice. Four pairs of eyes snapped in his direction. That was the tone of a tired mother issuing orders to her children at the end of the day, "Eyes on me."

She didn't want anything of Tomas's to come into contact with her children. She didn't want him to contaminate them the way he had contaminated her.

She lifted Cal off the ground and the child quietly let her pick him up without too much of a fuss. She didn't feel the strain at all as she pulled him high enough to put him in the cart with the girls. Looking at her oldest, she hoped she could secure him like she was doing with the other three, but he was too big to fit in the cart himself.

Before she could tell him to follow her without saying a word, Tomas spoke again.

"What a beautiful name, Ezra," she felt the venom bind each letter.

Ezra was about to turn around, probably to thank him, as she and Cassian had taught him, but Nesta squeezed his shoulder, "Keep looking ahead and walking, I don't want you talking to him."

"Always so fucking obnoxious," Tomas spat at that point.

Nesta froze in her tracks. She could feel him following them as he tortured her. Ezra froze beside her, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention.

Always so obnoxious. You're useless, worthless. I'm the only person who will ever be able to put up with your bullshit. You'll never find anyone else.

She felt the panic rise, the agitation for one of her children to realize how uncomfortable she was at that moment. She closed and opened her hands on the cart's handlebars, hoping to relieve some of that tension.

"I'm amazed to see you with so many children," he continued, creeping up beside her and stopping in front of her cart, blocking her way with his. She looked up at him, feeling the air scratch at her throat. He had aged, she could see it in the features around his eyes, his mouth - he had aged and yet still had the same look. "I didn't think you'd ever date again after I left you."

I left you. She wanted to tell him. I had the courage to leave.

She didn't answer him, straightening her back.

Tomas smirked, lowering his gaze to her daughters and his smile widened even more.

"Don't look at them," she snapped, still maintaining her composure.

The man looked up at her one more time, "They'll be just as pretty as their mother when they grow up." then looked at Cal and Ezra, sliding a finger over the edge of his cart. "Who's the father?"

"Dada." muttered Celia, flapping her little hands.

Nesta wanted to recoil at the sound. She didn't want Tomas to hear her talk, didn't want him to watch them. She didn't want them breathing his same air.

"It's none of your business and now move over," she whispered to him. All she could think about was the fact that she had to get her children out of there as soon as possible. Therefore, when he didn't move an inch, she added. "Please."

Tomas laughed. He laughed, leaning his head back and clutching his hand around the mesh of her cart. "Nessie Nessie," he clicked his tongue on his palate, a remnant of laughter in the tone of his voice that made the woman's gut tangle, "I haven't seen you in so long. I want to know everything."

"Please." she repeated, as her eyes filled with tears. His own widened slightly, surprised to see such a reaction in her. She didn't care if he saw her weak, she didn't care if she had to get down on her knees. He was keeping them trapped, and Nesta knew he wouldn't let them leave until he squeezed even the last drop of sanity out of her.

If Ezra still realized what was going on, she didn't know, and it scared her even more. Cal was looking at her and looked worried, probably having never seen her so shaken in her life.

She was about to beg him a third time. Beg him to free her from whatever that game was that they were stuck in at that moment, but someone said her name. Ezra looked behind them and Nesta saw the shadow of a smile on his face, prompting her to turn around in turn. A choked sound escaped her throat as she bit her upper lip to keep from bursting into tears, and a wave of gratitude washed over her.

"Miss Archeron," the man smiled at her. Drakon Cretea had been Nesta and Cassian's neighbor for years now. He and his wife Myriam had babysat their children so many times that they were their go-to people. In fact, Celia and Nora had snapped to their feet at the sound of the voice of the acquired grandfather they loved so much.

Nesta didn't waste a moment turning the cart so that it faced Drakon. The children, Ezra included, began to cheer happily at having met a familiar face, and Nesta allowed herself to look over her shoulder.

With such relief that she thought she might collapse to the ground, she saw that Tomas was already pulling away, and as he turned the corner, pulling into another aisle, she took a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes.

She had made it.

***

Cassian was exhausted.

He had spent the entire day grading exams for first-year students with his aide, and it was as if he could see the letters behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was much more feasible to work in the university library, where he didn't risk being interrupted by a child every five minutes, but he only tried to do it once or twice a month during exam sessions, knowing full well how exhausting it was for Nesta to keep up with all the children together until late in the evening, especially now that Andra was about to arrive.

"Andra." he murmured into the silence of his car. Nesta kept telling him that they weren't sure that would be the name of their fifth child, but Cassian didn't care. He just needed to name his wife's belly when talking to his daughter.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned off the car in the driveway and stepped out, stretching his arms up just enough to make his back crack.

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he huffed. It was too late for his girls to still be awake, but maybe he'd be able to say goodnight to Cal and Ezra.

He had warned Nesta that he was going to be late, and she had simply replied that she would leave dinner ready in the kitchen for when he returned.

Opening the front door, he immediately saw two little dark heads popping up from above the couch. Cal was already running at him when he closed the door behind him and jumped on him as soon as he had put his stuff down, "Dad!"

"Kiddo!" said Cassian throwing him into the air.

Cal laughed waving his arms, "Sssh," he scolded him still laughing, "the girls are sleeping."

"Oops," dad made a guilty face, stopping their game and putting Cal down.

Ezra was too focused on watching TV and wasn't paying the slightest attention to Cassian, but he walked over to the couch anyway, lowering himself just enough so he could leave a kiss on his hair, "Hi love." he murmured to him.

The little boy's head snapped toward him and with a crooked smile on his face and his pajama collar in his mouth, he said, "Hi dad."

Cassian scoffed amused, ripping his pajamas from between his teeth, "How many times have I told you not to eat your clothes?"

"Sorry," Ezra said, not sounding sorry at all.

Cal had gone back to lying next to his brother and they both seemed too caught up in the cartoon to pay any attention to it, so he went into the kitchen, loosening the tie around his neck and praying that Nesta had cooked something good - though the opposite was quite unlikely considering the woman's innate cooking skills.

He moaned with delight when he realized it was the meatballs she always made when she didn't feel like cooking and, taking the plate, he headed back to the living room. He plopped down in between his sons, taking the pajamas out of Ezra's mouth again and offering them both a meatball.

"So, what have you guys been up to today?" asked Cassian with a full mouth, slipping off his shoes and placing his feet on the coffee table.

First Cal and then Ezra told him in full detail about what they had done at school and then about the fact that none of them had slept that afternoon. Cassian was surprised to find out that Cal could still stand up without getting any rest.

When they got to the point where Nesta had taken them out walking and they had made it all the way to the supermarket, he had stopped them.

"Guys come on," he looked at them with incredulous eyes, "I told you to keep her home."

It was true. Lately Nesta had been pushing her limits when the doctors had told her to exert herself and stress as little as possible. With childbirth imminent too, it was risky for her to walk around without any other adults.

Ezra had the decency to look guilty, "I know, but-"

"We also met a weird dude," Cal interrupted him.

Cassian looked at him taking on a confused expression, "Weird?"

"Yeah, he knew mom," Ezra nodded, looking at the TV and talking thoughtlessly. He was bowing his head slowly and Cassian unconsciously extended a hand towards him, shutting his mouth before he could start chewing on the fabric once again. He looked at him at that point, continuing the story, "Mom was all weird, though."

"Weird." repeated Cassian.

"Yeah, weird." repeated Cal in turn, then chuckled, "He even hit me with the cart."

He and Ezra laughed together, remembering how Cal had fallen on his bum, but Cassian's thoughts were elsewhere. Clearly the fact that someone had rolled his son with a cart must not have been traumatic or painful, or Nesta would have called him and Cal wouldn't have been there laughing, but the fact that they had described her with an adjective like "weird" had him on high alert.

"Do you happen to know the man's name?" asked Cassian, pulling himself up and setting his plate down on the coffee table, keeping his gaze on his hands.

Ezra shook his head, "No, also because mom didn't talk to him much and then Drakon showed up."

"Oh, yeah," Cal repeated excitedly, his eyes glowing, "then Drakon showed up."

Cassian was on his feet before his youngest son had finished speaking. He started up the stairs to go upstairs, where he hoped he would find Nesta awake, but warned the two little men that he would go change and be back down to them in a jiffy.

With a strained expression and a bad feeling working its way through him, he walked down the hall, opening the door to his daughters' room slightly. Both Celia and Nora were already fast asleep, and Cassian felt a smile break out on his lips... his little gems. He couldn't believe yet another one would be arriving soon.

He closed the door, making sure not to make any noise, and then headed to his room, praying that Nesta was okay and that his children had misunderstood everything.

He heard her before he even entered. He could picture her pacing back and forth through their room, muttering about what was bothering her at the moment.

He took a deep breath, ready to fight whatever demons there would be to fight that night together, and tightening his hand around the doorknob, he lowered it, pushing himself into the room.

Nesta stopped short, both hands wrapped under her belly to help support that extra weight she was always complaining about.

The second Cassian's eyes found hers, her expression completely transformed and a desperate sob broke the silence that had formed between them.

"Nesta." he said as if someone had just sucked the air from his lungs. Reaching for her with two quick strides and wrapping her in his arms, Cassian heard all kinds of emotion in his wife's crying.

When he stroked her back, Nesta let go a wail of pain and he immediately pulled away, still keeping his hands around her elbows as much as her cold hands tightened around his forearms.

"God, Nesta what happened?"

She only cried harder, loosening her grip on him when she was sure he wouldn't pull away. She managed to say between sobs, "Everything hurts."

Cassian felt as if the floor has cracked open beneath them. "Is it the baby?"

Nesta's eyes went wide, probably only realizing at that moment what state he'd found her in, "No, she's fine." then, seeing his increasingly worried expression, she added, "I promise the baby's fine."

Cassian sagged at little, reducing his lips to a thin line, gently pushed her towards the bed to get her to sit up, but Nesta shook her head, taking short, overly fast breaths, "I can't."

Cassian paused, taking her hands and trying to restrain himself from asking her who they had met that afternoon that had managed to trigger such a reaction in her. There was no way she could have been in that state just from being tired.

"I can't." repeated Nesta sobbing and looking into his eyes. "Everything hurts, Cassian."

He sighed, closing his eyes. Seeing her in this state was nothing new unfortunately. With four pregnancies behind them and everything they'd been through in the years prior to their marriage, it wasn't unusual for either of them to be in such a condition.

He opened his eyes, trying to keep a firm tone, "How come you can't sit down?"

"If I sit the pain gets worse." she said between choked breaths.

Cassian furrowed his brow, wanting to yell at her about how stupid it had been of her to go walking that afternoon, but he restrained himself. "Have you tried lying down?" he proposed.

Nesta shook her head again, "Any position hurts my back or my legs," she explained.

"Tell you what," he began hesitantly, taking both of her hands, "why don't you put on those super pants that support your belly - or I'll help you put them on, it's no problem," he added quickly when he saw the pain in her features, "and then I'll give you a leg massage while you're standing?" he said smiling at her coyly. Nesta sniffed, nodding slowly. "And when sitting doesn't hurt anymore or is bearable you get on your knees on the bed or lean against the keyboard and I massage your back too, are you up for that?"

She squeezed his hands to let him know she was okay with everything, so Cassian smiled at her, returning the squeeze and starting to pull away from her to go get the leggings, but Nesta's eyes went wide and a few tears rolled down her cheeks, "Where are you going?"

Cassian grimaced worriedly.

Why hadn't she called him if she was feeling this bad?

He moved back as close as he could without crushing Andra between them, "I was just going to get my pajamas, Nes, and your pants." he placed a hand on her face, stroking away the remnants of her crying. Then he sighed, pushing her forehead into his and keeping his eyes open as he whispered, "I love you."

She repeated it quietly, almost a sigh.

He undressed quickly, slipping into his pajamas with equal haste as Nesta stood motionless in the center of the room, waiting for him to return to her.

"Listen," Cassian began, kneeling in front of her as he helped her out of the pajama pants she was wearing, "the boys told me you met someone today." he forced himself to look at her, when the grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened. Cassian studied the reaction he'd elicited from her and bit the inside of his cheek, seeing how Nesta had frozen and put her foot down. He took a deep breath, giving her knee a little tap to let her know she needed to get it back up, "They didn't tell me who it was and I don't think they know, but I got some ideas and I want-" he swallowed loudly, thinking seriously about what might have happened if his doubts were real, "If it's Tomas, I want to know if you're okay." he said in a lower voice, looking at her from under his lashes. Nesta didn't answer.

He had managed to get both of her feet into her pants and was pulling them up gently, trying not to hurt her. He had to pull up the skirt of the robe she used during all her pregnancies when none of her pajamas fit anymore, uncovering her belly and left a gentle kiss on her skin, smiling at his daughter, "Hello my little sunshine."

He felt Nesta shiver and thinking it was from the cold he hurried to cover her belly with her pants and then pull her nightgown down.

He looked at her more seriously than ever as he settled on the floor in front of her so he could massage her into a comfortable position. He was about to speak, to ask her again how she was doing, but she beat him to it.

"What did you do today?" she asked in a weak voice.

Cassian closed his mouth, bouncing his legs, pondering whether to insist that she spoke or let her distract him with that question. He decided for the latter, even though his wife already knew very well what he had done that day, "This morning there was an exam of Ancient History for the first years." he began to speak while pressing his thumbs on her left thigh. Nesta was leaning her hands on his shoulders. "I have to be honest, I've never seen exams as crappy and ignorant as this session's," he continued while keeping his gaze fixed on her face. "It's like people stopped studying all of a sudden and thought they could pass my exams by learning the bare minimum."

He shifted on her other thigh and Nesta snapped forward, groaning softly as Cassian touched a particularly numb muscle.

"Sorry." he smiled at her, "Then at lunch I stayed in the faculty with Gwyn and Luc, and by the way, they asked me if you'd be okay with organizing a lunch this weekend, with everyone?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, "I can't even walk, let alone plan a lunch with everyone," she pointed out to him in an irritated tone.

Cassian chuckled, "I'll let Gwyn know you told her to fuck off nicely."

"Yes, thank you," she replied to him. But then she bit her lip, thoughtfully, "But if they want to do something at her or Elain's that's fine. I can also cook, but not here, please, I don't feel like tidying up afterwards." she looked into his eyes with a pleading look.

"It's okay, it's not a problem," he shifted to her calves, "Although, if the only problem has to be the fact that you don't feel like tidying up, you know I wouldn't let you."

Nesta grunted, "I don't want you to do all the work yourself."

Cassian let out a puff of air through his nostrils, "You can't be the only one working hard in this house Nes, let me have some of the glory too." he joked.

"But I'm not the only one." she said in an overly serious tone, "You're always at work and I know you're working overtime, filling in for your colleagues, don't think I haven't noticed," she scolded him. Cassian lowered his head, feeling his cheeks turn red. "And I'm here at home and I can't work and I've been like this for months now and even before that with Celia-" she sighed, bringing a hand to her face, "I just wish I could help you bring something extra home."

Cassian stopped massaging her leg, surprised at what he was hearing. He moved away from her, enough so that he could stand up without bumping into her stomach and then looked at her, shaking his head, "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, "Nesta you're raising our children. You're doing a much more tiring and exhausting job than mine ever will be." he pulled himself upright, "True, it's just as rewarding and enjoyable to be able to stay home and watch our children grow up, but you're the biggest help I could ever get right now. We don't need money right now."

"But-"

"No buts." he said arching his eyebrows and pushing her towards the bed, "Do you think you can sit?" she nodded pensively and let him help her up onto the mattress. "Nesta what you're doing is admirable and I'm sure not everyone could handle it as well as you can."

Nesta stopped in the middle of the bed, turning to look at him with a shocked expression.

Cassian was just as shocked. That she didn't realize how much she was actually helping him was beyond comprehension.

"I can only get by because you're there," she murmured, looking away, "I'd never make it on my own."

"And no one expects you to make it, Nes." he said stunned. He really couldn't understand where all the doubt was coming from, "You don't have to make it on your own and you're not doing it on your own."

He had her settled so that her back was to him and she was turned to the wall. He placed his hands over her back and began to make concise circles on the bottom, applying pressure where he knew the pain was most concentrated. Nesta's head fell forward in relief.

"You really don't think you're helping me in any way?"

"No, I-" she froze mid-sentence, "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, using his knuckles to massage her shoulder muscles.

Nesta groaned softly, "It's just that I wish I could go back to work and read all the books I want and I wish I could feel tired and be able to let my kids cry without anyone telling me what to do and how to do it. I wish I could move without the terror of going into labor at any moment and-" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I wish I wasn't so hormonal right now."

He could tell that her thoughts were all over the place.

There had been other such crises during Celia's pregnancy. The fear that they wouldn't measure up as parents to so many children. They were in constant thought that they were not giving them enough, that they were teaching them the wrong lessons. Cassian had received some nasty comments himself about how they were raising their children, and he knew right away that someone must have said something to Nesta that day.

They had always had stronger, more heartfelt reactions on her, and now that she was pregnant it was all much more altered.

"What happened today?" he asked her under his breath after a few moments of silence.

"No one slept, I didn't have a moment's peace and then we left and walked to the mall. I had to carry Nora all the way there and-" her voice broke on the last sentence and Cassian stopped his ministrations on her. He laid both hands on her back, getting as close as he could, letting his hands slide down her hips and then over her belly, until his chest made contact with her back and Nesta pushed back against him.

She dropped her head onto Cassian's shoulder.

"And?" he murmured, spurring her on.

"Everything hurt so much, Cass," she replied in a watery voice, "It was like I was being stabbed in the back and I couldn't put Nora down because she'd start crying."

A sharp twinge of pain shot through his chest. He began to gently massage her belly and shortly after he felt her small hands settle on his, pushing harder, "No one would try to say you're a bad mother just because you don't pick up your daughter when you're hurting."

She didn't answer.

"Celia?" he asked.

"Ezra and Cal held her hand the whole way, she walked so much," she said with a half smile on her face. "When we walked in they immediately started acting up and then they started crying and I couldn't take it anymore and these ladies said I was an awful mother and it's true, Cassian." she jerked in his arms as she said those last words. He only held her tighter, taking a deep breath. "Who is the mother who can't calm her own children when they cry? Her own children." she shook her head, running a hand under her eyes.

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she had started crying again.

"Nesta listen to me." he whispered to her, kissing her shoulder and then the tip of her ear. "You are the most loving and caring mother I know. Your children are perfectly healthy and you've never let them lack for anything. You've never raised your voice to them. You've never threatened them or grounded them-"

"I'm not a monster," she muttered.

"And more importantly," he said smiling and holding her tighter, "your children are happy."

"But Cal today-"

"Cal is downstairs watching TV with his brother and he's been telling me about his day and he's the happiest kid ever," he interrupted her, "Just because he threw a tantrum and cried a little doesn't mean you're not a good mother."

She sighed and nodded, though she didn't look convinced.

Cassian continued to stroke the spots on her belly where he knew her skin pulled the most, her hand still on his playing with the wedding ring on his finger when Nesta said, "I saw Tomas today."

Cassian froze behind her, holding his breath. He'd known it, but hearing the fear in her voice now as she said the name of the man Cassian hated most in the world didn't stop him from wincing.

"He bumped Cal with the cart and knocked him over and I didn't realize it was him until he called me," Nesta continued.

When Cassian spoke, his voice came out much harsher and tighter than he intended, "Did he-" he cleared his throat, "Did he say anything?"

"No, he-" Nesta brought both hands to her stomach, shifting his. She moved uncomfortably in his arms and Cassian loosened his grip on his wife, realizing she wanted to move. He grabbed her by the hips, trying to pull her up so she could turn toward him, and when she was finally sitting up with her back against the headboard of the bed, she sighed. "I saw him, Cass, and I froze." she said under her breath, looking into his eyes. "He touched Cal's hair and it was like he was touching me, again, and I completely froze and then the baby kicked and he touched my-" she took a ragged breath as her eyes filled with tears. When she spoke again, her voice was so weak that Cassian had to appeal to every ounce of his reasoning not to get up and go find Tomas to kill him.

He took her hands, remaining silent as a revolting feeling took over his body. The idea of Nesta being touched by that filthy man made his guts turn. The idea of his children-

A choked sob brought him back into the room, "And I wanted him to go and stop looking at Ezra and Celia and Nora and I could only move when Ezra called me, but he followed us and blocked our way. He asked me about you, wanted to know who you were, and it was like going back in time and I couldn't- I couldn't, Cass-" Nesta brought a hand to her chest, her eyes and mouth wide as panic appeared in her gaze and air struggled to reach her lungs.

Cassian squeezed her hands, speaking softly, "Nesta, it's okay." a sob from her, "You're all home." he murmured starting to massage her palm, "You're home with me."

Her breathing became even more erratic and she shook her head, closing her eyes.

Cassian closed his eyes as well, "I'm sorry you had to see him again and I'm sorry you couldn't move, but it's understandable, sweetheart." he was trying to keep his tone of voice relatively low, to calm her down, but it was proving difficult for him as he viewed Tomas watching his daughters. "He shouldn't have touched your belly. He shouldn't have just touched you at all. And he shouldn't have gotten close to Cal or Andra." he seethed. "And if I could I would go to him and rip his hands off." he let slip as he imagined the terror Nesta must have felt at that moment.

Nesta sobbed and the sound broke Cassian's heart, "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry."

A pang of pain tightened in his chest as his face turned into a mask of controlled anger, "Don't ever apologize to me, please," he whispered, "Not for this stuff."

"But I couldn't do anything, even after all this time-" a hiccup broke the sentence, "He still has all this power over me. It's not fair."

It's not fair.

Cassian nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, "You're right, it's not fair." he squeezed her hands lightly, telling her to look at his face. She quickly did so. "You're not with him anymore. You're free. You don't owe him anything, just like you never owed him anything." Nesta took a shaky breath, stopping sobbing. "You have a family, you're a wonderful mother and wife. And you deserve all of this."

Nesta's eyes went wide, realizing where this was going.

Cassian took a deep breath, "You're not worthless, you're not hopeless or useless." he closed his eyes as Nesta mimicked him, breathing deeply in turn. "You are a strong, independent woman, it doesn't matter how much he said otherwise. It didn't matter before and it doesn't matter now. It's just meaningless words.

"I know you, Nesta, and you are the light of my life. The light of every person in this house. The only thing that keeps us going." he whispered in a weak voice, as Nesta leaned forward toward him and cried silently.

Cassian moved closer to her on the mattress so that she could rest her forehead against his chest, his shoulder, wherever she wanted, for support.

He had repeated those words to her so many times over the years. He didn't think he'd ever have to do it again, certainly not after so long that they both knew Tomas had moved to another continent entirely.

"I know you and you're nothing like he describes," he encircled her shoulders with arms when Nesta let go of a particularly loud sob. "You are the exact opposite of what he says." he kissed one temple, stroking the hair on her back.

She shivered in his arms, "I know." she whispered against his shirt.

Cassian managed to force a smile onto his lips, even though she couldn't see it, he knew she would hear it when he spoke, "I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because I can only imagine how hard it was for you to see him again, and although I would have appreciated a different approach to everything that happened this afternoon, you handled it perfectly and our kids are fine." he passed his hands over her shoulders and pushed her away from him so he could look at her face. "And it's okay that you broke down now, it's normal. I'm glad you told me about it. Thank you." he spoke against her lips.

She smiled, breathing a laugh through her tears, "I love you."

"I love you." repeated Cassian, sighing. He cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb under her eye, before kissing her. No rush or force, just pure, raw emotion as their lips caressed in a desperate kiss.

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justarandomhelluvablog · 3 years

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I would love to know more about your Actor AU!

And I would love to ramble more about it!

It still takes place in Hell, the only thing is IMP is the setting/theme of a show and all our beloved characters, with the exception of the princes (who are still princes) and Verosika (who is still a popstar), they're all actors.

So as anyone who's looked through my blog for more than 3 seconds knows, I'm a poly bitch, so; Everyone Loves Blitz (tm). Of course by "everyone" I really mean Stolas, FizzaRolli, Striker and Verosika... Blitz is a bit of a dense motherfucker and doesn't realize it for a while. (Fizz absolutely looks at the other three like "good luck, I've known him since we were five and been trying to ask him out since we were like 15 and he STILL hasn't realized")

Stolas and Stella are still happily married! Stolas is bi with a huge preference for men, in fact Stella is the only woman he has any physical or romantic interest in. When Stella realizes Stolas has feelings for Blitz she's actually the one who encourages it because Stolas' libido is MUCH higher than hers so, honestly, having someone else to take care of him would just make her life easier lol

Fizz also dates Ozzie! Blitz was his wingman (he sucked at it, big time) and, though the two have known each other a relatively short amount of time, they manage to start dating before Blitz even realizes that his and Fizz' plans to go to a Mammon concert is 100% absolutely a date. Which Ozzie is the one who points out, ironically enough.

Veering away from Blitz Harem, Millie and Moxxie, the actors, are actually exclusive/monogamous, but Moxxie is a lot less "prudish" about it. He certainly won't talk about it in public or in front of an audience but he's relatively comfortable talking about it with his friends. But if he and Millie were to bring in a third it would most likely be Striker, tbh lol.

Striker and Moxxie are like, best friends. They met on set during Striker's debut episode and now every time they're both in the same ring they'll meet up to chat or have drinks, they are very close which is very surprising for fans of the show since their characters- much like Blitz' and Fizz'- are at odds. Striker will go feral if anyone hurts Moxxie OR Millie.

Blitz dads the hell out of Millie, Moxxie, Loona and Octavia (all of whom are in the 16-22 range, versus Blitz' ~30-35), much to their dismay and everyone else's amusement. Stolas is the Real Dad Advice friend, Striker is the Protective Dad friend, and Blitz is the Worried Dad friend. This is also why Blitz always brings snacks with him wherever he goes. Blitz is also the friend you have to watch because he WILL adopt that orphan over there.

Oh! Age ranges! I kept them at vaguely their ages as they are in canon, or how I interpret them at least, in what I'll lovingly call the "human equivalent" since idk how demon aging works, damn. Obviously Stolas, Stella and Asmodeus are all... well, they're old. They're among some of the oldest demons, being royals, but they're immortal and don't look a day over 40. Loona, Millie, Moxxie and Octavia are around their canon ages- that being Loona and Octavia are 16/17 (Loona aged down just slightly, so I can shove in some dad&daughter Blitz&Loona content lol), Millie and Moxxie are ~5 years older at 21/22, maybe 23. Striker is a bit older, around 26-30, and Blitz, Barbie and Fizz are in their early-mid 30's. Verosika is somewhere between 25 and 30. Tilla, who is actually Blitz and Barbie's older sister rather than their mother (she plays their mother in the show), is in her mid 40's, being somewhere between 10 and 15 years older than the twins.

Fun Actress!Tilla fact, she's the twins' half sister, who was born from their mother's highschool romance (yea, teen mom). The twins' father came into the picture much later but always treated Tilla like she was his daughter. Blitz, Barbie and Tilla are super close, Tilla basically raised them after their mother and father died in an accident. They also actually did grow up in a circus with Fizz, which is where the show's writers got the idea of their backstory! Tilla had her own acrobatic show while Blitz and Barbie were twin trapeze artists. Fizz decidedly kept his feet planted firmly on the ground. Mammon was actually the one who recruited them all and got them into acting. That's right! Mammon, not only a prince, embodiment of greed, and a rockstar- he's also Blitz, Barbie, Tilla and Fizz' agent!! Hahahaaaa~!

While RoboFizz really was an animatronic, Fizz still provided the voice lines for him! RoboFizz might also later on gain sentience and scare the fuck out of everyone, INCLUDING Fizz, and may or may not despise Blitz for reasons beyond Blitz' control, but that's neither here nor there.

Many fans don't realize FizzaRolli is an imp. It's an ongoing joke with the cast, even after The Big Reveal on Character!Blitz and C!Fizz being childhood friends and C!Fizz being an imp, people are still arguing over it. Actor!Fizz has shown up to a premier with his imp tail and broken horns on full display and people STILL argue over whether or not he's an imp.

On that note, Fizz still has bionics! They're not completely the same as his character's, working in a more "natural" way like our real-world prosthetics- the bionics for the show are actually a bit dangerous to use long-term so he treats them more like a prop- but he and Blitz were involved in an accident as teens/young adults and he took the brunt of it (Blitz never talks about it but he has IMMENSE guilt over this). Mammon actually paid for and had them commissioned, since the accident actually happened after they started working for him. (Mammon, embodiment of greed, had a risk versus reward discussion in his head and decided the cost of the bionics would be small in comparison to what Fizz could potentially bring in)

Blitz still has depression. He relates so hard to C!Blitz that sometimes you'd think he's just a less asshole version of him. Which you could say he is. He doesn't keep people at a distance or push them away like C!Blitz does but he definitely suffers from a mixture of depression and survivor's guilt (over his parents' accident and the accident he and Fizz were in). Barbie and Tilla are the only ones who he talks about it to, since they both have similar feelings about their mother and father's accident, but Fizz- having known him for 25-30 years by now- definitely knows even without Blitz talking to him about it. Neither Blitz nor Fizz talk about the accident publicly, but thankfully the writers are respectful enough to not draw from that experience for inspiration. Amazingly respectful considering they're in hell and the writers have practically lifted and dramatized the show's characters from its actors lmao

Blitz is scarily good with a gun. He'd never shot one before they were taken to a shooting range to practice- even though they'd only have props the director wanted them to make it feel real- and Blitz basically hit the target bullseye each time. Fizz jokingly remarks that he'll be watching his back from now on cuz DAMN.

Moxxie is scarily knowledgeable about guns, too- he doesn't talk about why but I'll tell you, he's from a family of assassins. He's been trained since he was young to use and make weapons and kill. He's the deadliest person on set, next to the demon princes. He met Millie, the farmer's daughter who wanted to become so much more, and fell madly in love and chose to leave the assassin life behind to pursue acting with her. Millie and Striker are the only ones who know Moxxie actually used to be an assassin like the ones their characters are portraying. Blitz finds out a little later and decides to definitely keep this from Fizz, who promptly finds out because Blitz is TERRIBLE at lying to him.

The fans! Oh god the fans!! Striker is a fan favourite, as is FizzaRolli. Verosika has so many simps. Blitz has been propositioned at least a dozen times. No one dares approach the royals ofc, they're royals, but people love Stella's off-the-rocker performance and LOVE Stolas and Ozzie singing. The demands for Striker's return! The excitement knowing more demon royals are slated to show up! Honestly, it's the show of the century, and one of the few shows that actually features Sinners instead of being made up solely of Hellborn! It's exciting for a lot of fans of the show to see princes and imps and succubi/incubi and Sinners actually all interacting, there just aren't many shows that take place in the Pride Ring and mix social standings like that, it's pretty revolutionary for Hell, all things considered.

Sinners are still confined to the Pride Ring and the Extermination is still a thing. The seven rings still apply, and the nine circles that divide the rings still exist. So far the show has avoided bringing up the Extermination and everyone is sort of waiting to see if it will ever be addressed in-universe, because it is a BIG thing and for a show that takes place primarily in Pride and interacting with Sinners in many episodes to not even mention it is a bit weird.

It's midnight now so I'm gonna stop rambling for now, but if you have any specific questions or wanna hear about anything specific, go ahead and ask and I'll get to it when I've got a little more time~! I really enjoy this universe, it's fun tying it in to canon and also separating it at the same time.

#Ask #Justa Answers #Helluva Boss #Actor AU #Ramble #Long Post #I want to keep the universe mostly the same with just the switch up that these people are actors #and I wanted to preserve some of the character history #but obviously made some changes here and there #anyway yeah enjoy my ramble lol

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

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Addicted to You

Part 1: The Chain

Summary/Author's Note: As the sister of veteran turned freelance for hire Santiago "Pope" Garcia, you grew up close to his friends and ex-military squad. Frankie Morales always had your heart, in the same way you always had his--the two of you just never seemed to get the timing right. Trying to escape the violence of a military career based family, you turned to journalism and humanitarian work in war torn countries. But three days ago your crew was ambushed and after three days without any contact, Pope is getting the guys back together for a rescue mission. (Follows Canon events very closely with added character and liberties) Thank you to @winters-buck for headcanoning with me about Frankie and getting me pumped up enough to write this.

Pairing: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Pope's sister!Reader Word Count: 4.6k (idk what happened...) Warnings/rating: (NC-17)/18+ Language, smoking, implied drug use, PTSD, sex/smut, kidnapping, blood, violence, threats, fluff and feelings

MASTERLIST

Present Day Somewhere in Texas, USA

Santiago "Pope" Garcia had always had a talent when it came to lying, but never had that talent been used so willingly on his closest friends. He was a good bluffer. It had helped his career in the military with his superiors, it had helped him on their weekly poker nights, but he had never planned on getting the five of them back together to boldly lie directly to their faces. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the locker room as Will looked him over skeptically.

"What did he say?" Will asked, straddling the wooden bench and crossing his arms to mirror his friend.

"He's taking a look at it," Pope sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "He may not be up for this."

Of course he was talking about their friend Tom. Tom, code name 'Redfly' had been their captain back in the day, their leader, and his brutality and no bull shit attitude made him a good one. Pope knew if he wasn't on board with this, then Will would be out, and the rest of them would drop like flies before this even began.

"You know he's the best with something this complex, and he needs this right now," Will said and Pope agreed with a silent nod.

Beyond the concrete walls of the locker room a cheering crowd could be heard albeit muffled. Both men turned and looked in the direction of the noise before Will shook his head and leaned forward on the bench.

"This shit is fuckin depressing," he said.

"Come on let your brother have some fun. Support him." Pope offered with a wave of his hand like Will's brother getting the shit kicked out of him for a couple hundred bucks wasn't a big deal.

"I've been supporting him since the day he was born." Will pointed to the wall that stood between them and the mixed martial arts arena. "That kid's a one in a million talent, going out there playing the fucking clown to a bunch of hillbillies."

Pope started to respond but the door opened and a man dressed in nothing but loose fitting shorts and the med tape wrapped around his hands entered.

"Where are my boys at?!" He yelled in a deep voice like an announcer and threw his hands in the air.

"Benny! There he is!" Pope embraced him before patting him on the back and passing him off to his brother who stood up from the bench.

"Hey, shithead," a familiar voice said in Spanish and Pope turned around to see Frankie, a wide grin on his face.

Frankie "Catfish" Morales, known mostly by 'cat' or 'fish' to his friends, was probably the closest thing Pope had to a best friend. Even though it had been two years since they had last seen one another, Frankie looked exactly like he always did. His dark curly hair stuck out under his trademark, ratted, ball cap. His lips held a full mustache while the rest of his face had what was probably week old scruff and the brightest smile of the group. It didn't hit him until they were embraced in a tight hug just how much he had missed the man.

"How' you doing?" Pope asked, patting him on the shoulder.

"Hanging in there, I guess." Frankie nodded, finally letting go and moving to sit on the bench opposite of Will. "Is Tom coming?"

"Yeah, he said he would be here," Pope nodded looking at all of them in front of him. "You assholes get my texts?"

All of them looked in various stages of guilt, rubbing the back of their neck, adjusting their ball cap, not meeting Pope's eyes. Of course they had gotten his texts and by the tension in the room none of them had responded.

"Yeah," Frankie finally broke the silence. "Yeah I got your texts."

"And? I need a pilot." Pope looked at his best friend.

"I don't do that anymore, man." Frankie shook his head and sighed. "Besides, I lost my license."

"I don't need a pilot with a license, I need a pilot I can trust. And that's you." Pope pointed at his chest and held his gaze.

Frankie rubbed his hand over his face and stood up, leaning back against the lockers and looking up at the ceiling. "Will, you in?"

"I told Pope, if Redfly was in, then so was I." Will turned his sights to his friend and shrugged.

"And what about you, Benny?" Pope said, asking the man who had been quiet the longest.

"Of course I'm in."

Pope ruffled his short, dirty blond hair roughly with a smile and a word of praise and Benny shoved him away with a grin.

"Fuck," Frankie sighed and shook his head. "So, what's the job?"

"Can we talk details later? It's fight night--I got other shit to think about." Benny pleaded, looking around to the other three as the crowd cheered again through the concrete walls.

"Sure, wouldn't want you to be late," Will scoffed and stood, offering a hand to his brother and helping him up off the bench. The three men left the locker room and started down the concrete tunnel that led out to the arena. Benny was in front, holding his fists out in front of him like a true heavyweight and mumbling what sounded like a well rehearsed pep-talk to hype himself up.

Frankie and Pope hung back a few steps beside the other two, falling into step with one another like they shared the same brain. The other boys often joked that they did. Frankie put his hand on Pope's shoulder and rubbed his own beard in thought before he broke the silence.

"So, I got busted. That's why my license lapsed. It's not a big deal." He let the sentence hang in the air before he shook his head and sighed. "Okay, so it is a big deal."

Pope turned and looked at him. "Coke?" When Frankie nodded in agreement Pope rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Cat."

"It's still pending. But I'm clean now--I swear."

Pope nodded as they kept walking. He believed him. Frankie was a man of his word, and he knew he didn't have to prove anything to him. If he said he was clean, then he was clean. And cocaine or not, Frankie was the best damn pilot he had seen in his entire career, he wanted him for this job. No one else was going to cut it. Not when the objective was this important.

"Hey," Frankie said, trying to act casual but sounding anything but. "Have you talked to (y/n) lately? How--uh, how's she doing?"

There it was. He had to hand it to him, it took him longer to ask than he would have thought, but where it was normally endearing how much Fankie was still in love with you, this time it made Pope sick to his stomach. Did he tell him? He should tell him--even if it was just him. It was the right thing to do. Instead, as they approached the arena, the lie fell from his mouth.

"She's uh--she's good. Took a job down south, but I haven't heard from her this week." It wasn't a total lie. Pope didn't look at him and he could feel his friend staring intently at him.

Frankie let it go, even though his expression said he didn't want to. "So, what is this job really? What aren't you telling me?"

Pope looked over his shoulder, "It is what I said. Simple recon. We can talk details after the fight."

"Sure, whatever you say, man," he shook his head as they walked into the crowd and Benny greeted Tom with a cheer and a hug as the taller man started passing out beers he had just gotten from the concession stand. "I'm in." Frankie said flatly and walked passed Pope, taking a beer from Tom and giving him a clap on the shoulder.

Pope stopped short and watched the other man smile and interact with the rest of his friends. Frankie was his oldest friend, and lying to him hurt worse than that time he was shot down in Peru. Frankie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember, and if Pope was being honest with himself, he was the only man that deserved you and that he trusted to take care of you. He thought you guys would really make it work, and the day you called it quits hurt him too. Why wouldn't he want his best friend to take care of his sister? Protect you when he couldn't? Make sure you spend the rest of your life happy.

The four of them sat in the front row as Benny walked up the steps to the raised fighting platform, ducking under one of the ropes and bouncing around like there were springs on his feet. Pope looked back at Frankie and when the other man smiled, Pope returned it but it was a lie. He knew he was going to be crushed when he found out why the gang was really back together. When Frankie found out you were missing, nothing was going to stop him from getting you back--that's the real reason Frankie was the most important part of this crew. Because just like Pope, Frankie would get you back...or burn the whole country down trying.

Two years earlier

It was just supposed to be drinks and pool, maybe some darts if he talked you into it--you were a terrible shot and it made him laugh until his eyes watered. Frankie had asked you to go to the bar while he was in town and you had happily said yes. You missed him. And by the look on his face you knew he missed you too.

It was never awkward when you were with Frankie. No matter how much time had passed, as soon as the two of you were back together it was like picking up right where you left off. Gentle touches, knowing each other's drink order, holding hands, it was all so natural. He opened every door for you, bought every seven and seven you ordered, and paid for every round of pool, shoving more quarters into the metal slot and racking up the balls the second the previous game ended.

The first part of the date ended when Frankie tried to teach you how to do a trick shot in the corner pocket. He leaned his pool cue against the table and stood behind you, wrapping his arms around yours and putting his large hands over yours on your own pool stick. He smelled like fresh air, like the woodsy smell of recently cut grass, clean earth, and just a hint of campfire smoke--musky and comfortable and safe. He spoke in your ear telling you where to aim, and even though he had to speak over the other patrons and the juke box it felt like he was whispering just for you. When he pressed himself against your ass, your body erupted in goosebumps. He must have felt it too because he asked, "Wanna get out of here?" And all you could do was nod.

The both of you fumbled into your apartment, he barely got the door closed by kicking it, as you dropped your purse and keys on the floor and started unbuttoning his shirt. Of course all of this would have been easier if either of you could pull away from each other's lips, but that wasn't happening.

"Bedroom or couch?" You said as you shoved his shirt off of his shoulders.

He grabbed the hem of your own shirt and pulled it over your head in one smooth motion. "Both." The two of you laughed and kept kissing as he walked you backwards towards the hallway. "Kitchen. Floor. Shower." He kissed you after each word and you blushed, laughing again at his suggestion. This was the Frankie you remembered. This was the Frankie you fell in love with.

"Got big plans for this weekend, do ya?"

"Yup," he bent slightly and gripped the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. "And they all involve you."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips. His tongue slid into your mouth like it had so many times before, exploring, tasting, moaning softly into you. He knew where your bedroom was, walking down the hall like he lived there and nudging the door open with his hip. Some summers, back when both of your lives were simpler, it was almost like he did live there. He had his own drawers, his own side of the bed, and you made sure his favorite coffee was always in the cabinet.

"Frankie," you breathed against his mouth and his grip tightened on you. You slid your fingers into his hair, removing his ball cap and tossing it behind you.

"Tell me, baby," he mumbled back, putting you down on the bed and crawling over your body.

"I missed you," you said and he froze, looking down at you with those enchanting brown eyes.

He swallowed hard and tried to slow his breathing. "I missed you, too."

The both of you took a moment just staring at one another. He leaned down and gave you another soft kiss before moving to trail his lips down your jaw, moving to your breasts and unclipping the snap in the front. He took each of your breasts in his hands, squeezing and kneading them as you closed your eyes and carded your fingers through his hair again. When he took one of your nipples between his teeth you gasped, arching your back off of the bed and holding him against you.

"You still like that?" He mumbled, moving to the other nipple and repeating the motion, sucking it into his mouth along with as much of your breast as he could. The feel of his teeth against your skin was exquisite and you could have let him do what he was doing all night.

"What do you think?" You laughed as he moved from your breasts down your stomach, biting and kissing his way to the edge of your jeans. "You always were a boob man."

"For your perfect tits? Absolutely." He undid the button and zipper, grabbing opposite sides of your pants and underwear, shimmying them off of your hips.

"Charming." You scoffed, raising your hips to help him as he stood and did the same to his own.

"You always thought so."

He knelt on the bed, stroking his half hard cock before he fell on top of you, making the mattress bounce gently. You gripped his shoulder and rolled him over onto his back, enjoying the surprise on his face and the absolute adoration as your breasts hung directly in front of his face. He started to raise up to put them in his mouth again but you pressed his shoulders back into the bed.

"My turn," you grinned and he nodded, letting you move down his body, kneeling off to the side.

As soon as you wrapped your hand around his dick, his eyes fluttered closed. You worked him slowly before bowing your head and letting some saliva pool in the front of your mouth and letting it drop slowly onto the head and down the shaft. Your hand worked the liquid down, making it slide easier as you pumped him.

"Fuck, (y/n)," he sighed as he watched you. "You're killing me."

"You still like that?" You asked, playfully, mocking his earlier question and he chuckled.

"Smart ass."

You smiled again before taking him in your mouth and you revelled in the way he moaned softly and slid his hand into your hair at the back of your head. You bobbed in tandem with your hand, working the entire shaft as you sucked the head of his cock and his grip on your hair tightened. You took as much of him into your mouth as you could, your lips meeting your fist and a small sound escaped you as he hit the back of your throat. He thrusted up involuntarily and when you gagged slightly, he opened his eyes and looked at you worriedly.

"I'm sorry," he breathed and you shook your head, continuing to suck him off, running your tongue along the large vein that ran the length of him. There was no apology needed, you were just as desperate to remember his body as he was yours. He held out for a few more pumps, rock hard in your hands before he sat up and grabbed you by the arm. "Come here. Come here, baby."

You let him pull you to him as he leaned his back against the headboard and pulled you into his lap. He reached his hand between the two of you and ran two thick fingers along the slit of your pussy.

"Shit," he cursed quietly as he felt how wet you already were. He loved how quickly you were ready for him, it had always been like that. He could have you dripping for him before he even got you undressed and he loved reaching up your skirt or your dress and feeling you against the lace of your thong. "You're so wet."

"You love it," you said as he continued to stroke you and you straddled his hips, putting his arms around his shoulders.

"Always have," he said and it was in a voice tender enough that you weren't sure if you were talking about the same thing any more.

You leaned up on your knees as he took his cock in his hand and lined it up between your thighs. You lowered yourself on to him, sinking down slowly and letting your body adjust to his length. He throbbed inside of you as you paused, letting yourself adjust to his girth. The stretch was intense and you wanted it to last forever, feeling every inch of him as the bottom of your thighs touched the top of his and you settled in his lap. Your fingers found their way into his dark, soft hair. It was a little longer at the ends and you liked the way it curled around his hat, but that hat was currently on the floor with the rest of your clothes so you could touch the soft locks as much as you wanted.

"You ready, baby?"

You nod and hold him close, your breasts pressing against his chest, your foreheads coming together as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Fuck me, Frankie. Please, please." You whisper the last few words over his lips as he started to thrust up inside of you.

You both released a contented sigh at the same time and it made you smile. Even in your worst days, it always felt like you and Frankie were in sync, two halves of a whole. How your body had missed him, missed the soft way he said your name and the way he held you close to him like he wouldn't be satisfied no matter how close you were.

"I missed you," he said, closing his eyes as he guided your hips up and down, rocking against him as your stomachs brushed together.

"You said that already," you smiled, moaning softly as he hit a particularly sweet spot deep inside of you.

"And I'll say it again," he grinned, pressing his nose against your cheek and kissing your lips.

"Charmer," you kissed him back, soft and slowly.

He dipped his head and kissed your neck, sucking along the soft skin of your throat. You wanted him to leave marks like you both were in grade school, making out in the back of the movie theater, kissing in the bed of his truck, back when things were simpler. His arms tightened around your back as you nosed his hair, breathing him in and kissing the top of his head.

"Fuck," he cursed quietly as you ground your hips down on his lap. "You feel so good, baby."

"Don't stop," you moaned softly in his ear as he picked up the pace. "Harder, Cat, harder, please."

He held you tightly as he looked up and put his hand on the back of your neck. "Look at me." You opened your eyes and leaned back slightly to look down at him with heavy eyes. "God damn, you're so beautiful," he whispered and it made you blush. You kissed him hard and slid a hand between the two of you, frantically searching out your clit as his thrusts started to get sporadic and uneven.

"I'm gonna cum, Cat-" you watched as he looked at you and nodded encouragingly.

"Come on, baby. Give it to me. I got you," he panted close to your face as his cock hit the end of you, pumping up inside of you.

Your orgasm took you suddenly and completely. Your mouth opened but no sound came out as you clenched around his cock and squeezed your thighs around his lap. You felt the heat rise up from your core to the rest of your body in a way that made you curl your toes against the bedspread. You threw your head back and groaned out your pleasure to the ceiling, his name falling from your lips with sweet ecstasy as you clung to his shoulders.

He followed right behind you, spilling himself inside your cunt, the feeling of him hot and wet around his cock and starting down your thighs. He thrust hard, and spaced out, a few more times, grunting a mixture of his pleasure and your name with each movement.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed, leaning back against the headboard and pulling you against him.

You pressed your cheek against his chest, breathing hard as you ran your hand up his neck and played your fingers against the scruff along his jaw. He was still inside you and you clenched your thighs again, an afterthought of a muscle twitch left over from your orgasm. It made him groan again and tighten his grip on your hips.

"Sorry," you laughed softly and he chuckled.

"We still got it, don't we?" He asked, looking down at you with a boyish grin.

"I never had any doubts." You crossed your arms on his chest and laid your head on top of them, looking up into his eyes. You shivered as he lifted your hips slightly and his softening cock slid out of you and you both got more comfortable. It was definitely quicker than the two of your normally liked it to be, but after being apart for so long, you had a feeling anything that happened tonight would be desperate and fast.

He dipped his head and kissed you softly, each kiss punctuated but a soft pop in the silence of your bedroom. He brushed your hair away from your face and smiled.

"You want me to head out soon?" He asked, trying to hide the fear in his face of the possibility that you would make him leave.

"No," you said quickly, shaking your head and staying firmly planted on top of his lap. "No, stay the night. Please." You added the last word sweetly and his face relaxed.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." He nosed your hairline and kissed your forehead.

You knew this couldn't last. You knew he was leaving tomorrow for another mission, another pilot seminar, and you were headed upstate for your job as well. You loved Frankie Morales with all of your heart and he felt the same way--life just always seemed to have other plans. And yet, life was just as cruel as it was sweet because somehow, someway, it always brought you two back together.

---

Present Day Some where in the jungles of Columbia

You weren't sure how long you had been traveling. In fact, when you thought about it, you didn't know much of anything. You twisted your wrists in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure the zip ties were leaving on your skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whispered, leaning your head back against the side of the van. The bumps and potholes in whatever shitty road you were on caused the back of your skull to bump against the metal. How had this happened?

The last few days had been a blur. You and a group of journalists were having dinner in a local village. You had teamed up with a group of doctors and, in between travel, were lending a hand providing basic medical care to anyone who needed it in the surrounding towns. You cut bandages, gathered clean water, played soccer with the children, and took photos to add to your collection and publish when you got back to the States. It had been a pretty uneventful trip, enjoyable actually, until Lorea's men had shown up. No one seemed to know what the dangers narcos drug lord would be doing in a place like this.

Before you knew what was even happening, there were guns pointed at your crew, men yelling in Spanish that you only vaguely understood, and you raised your hands above your head shouting back, pleading them to calm down. Did they want money? No, that would have been too easy, and as a traveling journalist that dabbled in humanitarian efforts, money was not something you had a lot of anyway.

A rather large man grabbed you by the wrists and even though you struggled, even though you screamed, it didn't make any difference. A hand on your head made you duck as you were shoved into a van along with a few of the others on your crew and the door slammed shut behind you.

"Stop, stop," you tried as the van revved and pulled away down the street. "You don't have to do this--" The man who grabbed you ignored your words, if it was because he didn't understand English or because he didn't care, you weren't sure.

He jerked your wrists in front of your body and wrapped the zip tie around them, pulling it tight. Your heart was beating way too fast and you could feel the blood rushing in your ears and on instinct you pulled your hands away from him and screamed again, turning towards the door. He yelled something in Spanish and pulled his arm back before punching you in the side of the face. Your world exploded into flashes of white as you hit the floor of the van. With the wind knocked from your lungs, you gasped for air and coughed, your eyes burning with hot tears.

The man driving turned and yelled something over his shoulder, obviously upset at his partner for roughing up the merchandise. Your stomach felt nauseous and the last thing you remember was some kind of scratchy material being put over your eyes and the rest of the world went black.

Tag List: @stevieharrrr @zeldasayer @winters-buck @seawhisperer If you wanna be tagged, lemmie know!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #santiago garcia #frankie catfish morales

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zukoscomet · 3 years

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I realised recently that I never actually collated all the ideas I had about my Zutara kids so here, have some steambabies! Idk I just really like the idea of Katara and Zuko having a big family after all they’ve lost when they were young, and as an only child, I guess I kind of romanticise the idea of having siblings.

TW: I hc that Katara would have had a miscarriage, so if that is a trigger for you then maybe don’t read on.

Shameless plug but if you wanna read more about this, my series on AO3 is roots and wings.

Their firstborn is a boy who they name Kai after Kya. His full name is Kaito but nobody who knows him ever calls him that, not even when he’s in trouble. I’m not going to go into too much context about like the pregnancy bc you can already find that stuff here. He turns out very much like Zuko physically - tall, golden irises, straight black hair, narrow angular face - but he has mixed tawny skin and his eyes are shaped round and wide like Katara. He’s born on the last day of summer in 109 AG, so because of superstition that firebenders are born in peak summer, there’s some uncertainty about what he’ll bend - if at all - but then when he’s three and a half, he makes a flame. Iroh trains him to firebend until he’s about 16, then he goes off to the Sun Warriors for a year to finish off, and he ends up a very spiritual firebender. Kai is like the dream first child - the softest boy ever to live - and when Katara and Zuko go on to have more children, he’s a really great big brother, like wholeheartedly adores his little sibs even if they drive him completely nuts about 95% of the time. He’s quite a conflicted and confused kid growing up. He’s never quite sure of what he wants in life but finally, when he’s 17, he decides that he realises that he doesn’t want to be Fire Lord and passes along the heir status to his sister. After that he joins the Sun Warriors and eventually marries the chief’s daughter, Himari, and they have two firebender girls, Aiko and Sol.

Izumi arrives not long after her brother in 110 AG. Katara and Zuko planned to wait but it ends up that there’s barely a year between Kai and Izumi and it comes as an extra shock as Katara didn’t figure out she was pregnant again till like 18 weeks in. Katara goes into labour early at 35 weeks and Izumi is born really small - she never completely catches up either and it’s hilarious because after successive generations of tall male Fire Lords, they get Izumi who’s barely 5 feet - but she’s otherwise fine. She’s physically a mish-mash so overall she resembles nobody especially - Katara’s hair, complexion and big round eyes, Zuko’s irises, Azula’s heart-shaped face and highly arched brow line, Hakoda’s facial features. The superstition about summer births for firebenders peters out real quick when Izumi, born in the autumn, bends blue fire at two and a half and, taught by Jeong Jeong, she grows into a prodigal master. When she’s young, Izumi is the polar opposite of her brother - feisty, stubborn, determined and whip smart - and she’s a heathen teenager but by about 15 she mellows and matures, and part of Kai’s reasoning for abdicating is that Izumi seems a better fit for Fire Lord. Izumi was always kinda apathetic to kids but at 19, she accidentally gets pregnant and has her son, Kazuo, then her daughter, Kira, eleven years later. Izumi becomes Fire Lord at 37 but she only rules for about 14 years before retiring. Since she had Kaz so young, if she stayed on the throne much longer, Kaz would also be an older man when it came time for him to inherit, so she decides to step aside and Kaz is coronated just after his 33rd birthday.

(Kazuo takes after his Gran Gran in more ways than just his blue eyes; he’s a waterbender so Kaz is the first waterbender Fire Lord)

After a break, Katara and Zuko decide to try for a third addition and Katara gives birth - in the Southern Water Tribe, for the first time - to Bashira, four years after Izumi. Shira looks probably the most like Zuko out of all the children, even more than her elder brother does. They share the same tall and lean physique, the same long black hair, Shira is mixed but still the palest of all the steambabies and their faces are practically identical. They’re characteristically very similar, too - serious, intense and reserved. The only differences is that her hair is curly, her eyes are blue and finally, Katara gets her waterbending child. Both of them suspected that Shira was going to be a waterbender even at the early stages of the pregnancy, but it’s still super exciting when Shira tosses a wave at her elder siblings when she’s two. Katara is teaching her as soon as she possibly can but over time some tension develops between them when Shira turns out to be quite different from her mom in terms of natural bending style. Shira is very fight-oriented, she learns dao swords from Zuko and never shows as much of an interest in the healing arts, but when things blow up and eventually Shira is able to explain that she wants to be able fight like her mom did during the war, things straighten out and Katara guides Shira all the way through to mastery. She eventually moves to the South in her late teens to lead the tribe’s warriors. There, she has three children - waterbender twins Kenzo and Kenji, then a daughter named Kanna who’s a firebender like Grandpa - but the marriage to their father doesn’t last and in her 50s, she ends up in a relationship with Aang and Toph’s daughter, Lin.

Katara gets pregnant for a fourth time - planned - just after Shira turns two, but this time she has a miscarriage. Zuko was overseas when it happened so she went through it alone. Katara is devastated and resents Zuko for not being there. She knows it’s not his fault but she can’t help her emotions and that makes her feel even worse so she just shuts down - stops doing her Fire Lady work, stops spending any more time with Zuko and their children than necessary, won’t let the rest of the family visit them and spends most of the day lying in bed. Zuko doesn’t know how to help her so initially he decides to give her space to grieve however she feels she needs to, but it just deteriorates until one day Zuko suggests that maybe they should both go to therapy or marriage counselling or something because it can’t go on like this. Katara just completely loses it at that and ends up yelling at him all the things that she’d been bottling up over the last couple of months. Katara says some awful things and she’s expecting Zuko to take it poorly, hence why she kept it all inside up till now, but Zuko just accepts every bit of it and after that, she’s finally able to grieve properly and mend.

About six months after they come back together, they decide to try again and Katara eventually falls pregnant. The pregnancy itself goes smoothly but both of them are so stressed about something going wrong like last time and the effect that might have on both of them, then Gran Gran passes away when Katara is in her thirtieth week, so the full ten months were incredibly hard-going.

It’s a big relief when the baby is finally born on Ember Island, three years after Shira in 117 AG. They name her Lili in honour of their recent losses, since lilies can ease scars and Iroh once referred to them as lights in darkness. From the beginning, Lili is the image of Katara in every way physically and characteristically - kind, patient, gentle, but does have quite a temper if she’s pushed too far. She’s also a waterbender, though it takes her a little longer to manifest her abilities than any of her siblings, first gaining control of the water at the age of six. Lili is incredibly endearing, as both a child and an adult, and she becomes so particularly popular with the Fire Nation public that the firebending qualification to be considered an heir to the throne is reversed, so Shira and Lili are inducted into the succession. Born in the same year, Lili had a long-term relationship with Tenzin, Aang and Toph’s thirdborn, but as they grew older, Tenzin was concerned that if he married her, their children would have heritage of all four elements and degrade the chances of Tenzin producing airbenders and continuing the Air Nation. That concern resulted in a kind of on-again-off-again thing but eventually Lili sent him off with an "I don’t want to be with someone that isn’t even sure he wants me" and went travelling the world for a few years. When they’re both in their thirties though, Lili and Tenzin reconnect and get back together, eventually marrying and producing five children - Jinora, Aya, Hiro, Rohan and Kano, the elder four airbenders and the youngest a waterbender.

A few months after Lili is born, Sokka and Suki have a baby girl and when Katara and Zuko go to visit their new niece, they agree that night on a spur-of-the-moment that they want one more child. The morning after, they talk about it properly and decide it’d be better to wait till Lili was a bit older, but Katara found out six weeks later that that one time had been successful. About halfway through, they find out that they’re expecting a boy and Katara is especially excited since their son had always been more closely attached to her whereas their girls were very firmly Daddy’s girls. Sure enough, when Kallik arrives in 118 AG, he’s a big Mama’s boy and remains so his entire life. Apart from his curly black hair, Kallik is the spitting image of his uncle, to the point that Hakoda says that seeing Lili and Kallik together is like seeing young Katara and Sokka. Kallik is the hardest to handle out of their children - loud, playful, mischievous and an exhausting troublemaker. All of the siblings fight like cat and dog but Kallik and Izumi are by far the worst, on the level of one walks into a room and the other is like “And I took that personally” and they never seem to grow out of it even when they’re both old and grey. Kallik is the only nonbender in the family and initially he struggles with this a bit but he spends a lot of time hanging out with Uncle Sokka, learns dao swords with Shira and Zuko, and by the time he hits his teens, he comes to view it more as something that sets him apart from his siblings. When he’s 18, he goes to join the United Forces and he stays in service till his late thirties, when he meets Ren, another serviceman from the Northern Water Tribe. After beginning a relationship with him, the pair settle in Republic City and end up adopting two daughters, Kirima and Alasie.

About a decade after Kallik is born, it seems like things are kind of slowly drawing to a close as the kids are getting older - Kai is 19 and has left home, Izumi is 18 and living away in Republic City while she studies at university, Shira is 14 and already talking about moving South the first chance she gets, Lili is 11 and wanting to go Northern Water Tribe to train with the healers there, and Kallik is 10 and dreaming of being a great military commander like Grandpa Koda and Uncle Sokka - when suddenly Katara starts to get really, really sick. Zuko is absolutely terrified, thinking that there’s something seriously wrong with his wife, but after some deduction, it turns out that Katara is actually pregnant again. The relief at realising she’s not dying is short-lived and the reaction from both of them is basically holy shit holy fuck we are too old for this our other kids are practically all grown up now we are done with babies we can't seriously have six children what are we going to do. There’s a lot of discussion, especially since Katara is 43 by then and the risks for her to be carrying another child are higher, but they ultimately decide to go through with it. Ironically, it’s the easiest of all her pregnancies and when Katara delivers a baby girl in Republic City in 128 AG, there hadn’t been a single complication to speak of. Iroh had passed away two years earlier, devastating the whole family but Zuko in particular, but the baby is born with his irises - a darker gold - so they name her Ilah. Her eyes are big and round like Katara’s but other than that, Ilah resembles her Grandma Ursa most strongly, with her thick chestnut-coloured hair and slight, delicate facial features. Naturally, Katara and Zuko think all their babies were the cutest baby but Ilah is probably objectively the cutest, with her big honey-coloured eyes, chubby cheeks and soft little curls.

Inevitably, since Kai, Shira, Lili and Kallik had all either left home before she was born or did so when she was still a little girl, Ilah gets a lot more concentrated attention from Katara and Zuko. She’s completely spoiled and doted upon by the whole family, including her elder brothers and sisters who visit her as often as they can manage. Since Izumi still lives in the palace permanently as the Crown Princess, she and Ilah are close, but Ilah ultimately ends up being closest with Izumi’s son, Kaz, who is only a year younger than his aunt. Ilah was even in the room when Kaz was born, though it wasn't an intentional move. Zuko was supposed to be watching Ilah when things got intense with Izumi’s labour but things escalated from 0-100 real fast and Katara didn't have time to hand Ilah off, so she stayed tucked in a sling on her mother’s back as Katara helped her eldest daughter to deliver her own baby, somehow sleeping through all the noise and commotion. Ilah and Kaz end up more like a brother and sister or best friends than an aunt and nephew, though Kaz always calls her Auntie Ilah when he’s teasing her. Ilah is perhaps the shyest around strangers of her siblings, uninterested in celebrity and attention, but she’s the most adventurous, determined and creative, interested in science and invention from an early age. Growing up, Ilah felt a little pressured by the renown of her family, especially when her firebending turned out to be just about average in power, but when she’s 12, Ilah figures out that she can combustionbend. From there, she applies her bending abilities to science and when she leaves home for university, she invents the combustion engine at age 20. The rest of her adult life is spent travelling virtually non-stop, working on innovation projects for the different nations. She never has children, on the account that it would be unfair to expect a kid to move around as much as she does and she’s happy enough with her numerous nieces and nephews, but she eventually marries her long-time girlfriend Li-Mei, an Air Nomad tasked with searching the world for new airbenders.

#zutara #katara #zuko #katara x zuko #avatar: the last airbender #steambabies #momtara and dadko

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