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illyrian-lover-flower · 3 years

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You aren’t alone - we are alone together.

Hi, @autophobiaxx - guess what, I had been your secret snowflake🤗. Believe me when I say I had absolutely no idea what awaited me on this project, but i am really happy I got paired up with you and it turned out this way.

Your answers had always been so helpful and I might just want to pet myself on the shoulder with some lucky guesses I made. Hopefully this project had been for you as fun as for me, because I really enjoyed it. I actually found myself giddy through some days, not able to wait to ask you my next questions.

I do hope you like the first part of your present, the other two will follow soon - you get one on each Christmas holiday day. (That’s the reason why I had asked you to pick a number - you started with number 2. So, 3 will follow tomorrow and 1 after that.)

But now, I wish you a lot of fun - if a bit of my grammar isn’t as well as it should be, feel free to point it out - but please spare me a bit. English sadly isn’t my native language.

Greetings and definitely until tomorrow😘

Word count ( note not included) : 7. 380 words

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It was so long.

So long since she last saw the Shadowsinger - her heart longing to see him once again as she looked out into the endless sea of stars above of Velaris.

No glittering light left alone, always a close neighbour that shone with them close by. It was an endless chain so it seemed.

One that smiled down upon the fae of Velaris, her sister and her mate and even down to her - the lonely seer. That sat with a longing heart night for night, wrapped in a blanket, in front of her wide-open window. Hoping to hear even a silent beat of his mighty wings, hoping to see even a whisp of him seek comfort in the endless sea of dreams and light in the dead of night.

Perhaps he had always known she was watching, was too shy to show up in the sky which she could see so clearly. Not even the bright light of the always shining city able to taint the dark dome that was stretched above their heads.

It unsettled her. The seer's guts twisting and churning inside her as her heart made leap for leap, leaving a heavy rumble as it landed each time with the same wish: I want to see Azriel again.

Elain knew it was selfish of her to think such thoughts, but he was her friend. One that had been by her side since she first stumbled into this new life, showing her how to embrace this new part of the world she hated for so long, explained to her that it was completely fine to not be immediately ok with the ways of this world, but that it was also good to try those new possibilities it gave her from time to time.

And that she did, the Shadowsinger always an arm's reach away when she did so. A kind reassuring smile a constant companion when she looked up at him, those shining hazel eyes of his seemingly having never strayed from her.

He was there - always.

There was no way he would suddenly be gone. Her aching heart not able to believe even a crumb of this thought as she shook her head in disapproval at the night. Standing up on numb legs - for the twentieths evening in a row - from the chunky armchair. Hurt flooding her entire body as this aching wave of hurt crashed down from her heart.

He would not be there, she felt it, would not be there for Solstice.

Perhaps she should have asked Feyre of his stay, maybe even Rhys, but then again - these two loved to cloak themselves in silence. Everything that needed to be spoken only between the two of them, far away from the worried ears of the seer.

Feyre’s older sister - that was treated like a child.

A child, perhaps that was who she was, a selfish stubborn, weak child that waited for its friend to arrive, only to be disappointed that he would not attain, would not be there the next morning to celebrate the Solstice with her - leaving her alone in the shadows of a giant estate, that would this year not brim with happiness during the festivities.

If she would have wanted to ask Feyre or Rhys it was too late anyway. They were all off already - celebrating Feyre’s birthday and the longest night of the year, under the stars of Winter.

A great feast that was hosted by Vivianne and Kallias in order to acclaim Viviannes rise to the High lady of the Winter Court, though it was more going to be of a friendly gathering - that Elain had seen, in a vision, and with that she did not want to interfere.

Her absence could be considered as rude, but her presence wasn’t of any meaning - Nesta was the emissary of the Night Court and she would be there. So, there was no need for the defender of Velaris, to go with them and abandon her duty. Though Feyre had given that title to her out of pity - to make Elain feel more useful.

Allowing her to go to bed early as the stars continued to shine down in protection on the city, leaving her window wide open this night. The hope, that he would perhaps see her open window and come home, was all she needed to endure the cruel ripping of the cold harsh wind on her curtains in her chamber as she piled blanket for blanket atop of her.

Trying to let sleep claim her with its soothing blanket.

Though its blanket was nothing but wild and untamed tonight. Pictures of death and shadows, of chaos and blood infiltrating her mind. In her worry the seer was not able to part these pictures of violence into a vision or simply a nightmare.

She hoped for the last one – begged for it to be the last one. As she awoke screaming, cold sweat coating her skin like an old friend. It happened so often already in the past, she had hoped these fears would have gone away with the years of peace.

Yet it left her soaring, her eyes tearing in the darkness as she buried her face into her shacking palms. Letting the impressions behind her inner eye suffocate her - battle screams, bones breaking, cries of hurt heard among the heavy rain that poured down on the battlefield in the woods. Mud coating the already fallen warriors as hundreds of wing pairs peeked up from the carpet of death – Azriel's body lay dead and cold as a yarn of death weaved, among the other fallen warriors, into this endless rug of blood and rotting bodies.

A silent scream escaping Elain's shivering body as his eyes flooded her mind. Those soft warm eyes, that reminded her so much of the forests she had wandered upon, that never seemed to stray from her and knew when she was upset or needed a shoulder to cry on - were looking lifeless and cold into the face of an enemy he had taken to death with.

No!

This could not be the truth!

Azriel had offered so much in the last few centuries, had shed too much blood and fought too many battles throughout the years. It couldn’t be that the only thing the mother deemed for him as right was bloodshed and war and death.

Azriel, too, had a loving family with which he deserved to spend time with.

So, Elain begged the mother, that it simply was a nightmare that ripped sleep away from her. Her uneasiness making it impossible to just fall back asleep again.

She needed a distraction, something that could bring her thoughts far away from blood and cold lonely nights, in which she feared Azriel would never return.

‘Stop thinking like that!’ she tried to convince herself ‘Azriel is strong. Very strong - there is no way that he is suddenly going to die in battle. Is there?’

It was a childish thought; she knew that as she threw a blanket over her shivering shoulders. Elain knew how sudden death could bite someone, no matter how strong the one it chose to claim - after all, even a High Lord can find death in a battle. Rhys had proven that and even though he came back - letting the vibrating song of the living envelop him a lot longer- there were still nights in which she heard Feyre scream.

Some nights it was the scream from the battlefield Elain had heard. Other nights it was the same screams that ripped from her lungs, whenever she awoke from a nightmare.

Death had sought out her family too many times already. Feyre, Rhysand, her father, Nesta and she herself. Though it had been a human life that would have ceased -for the fae- in the blink of an eye anyway, it was Nesta’s and her life that had been thrown into the cauldron and was ripped away from them.

Leaving them dead empty in a new world.

In a new world, in which hope had been a rare asset, once they were made. Though Feyre had it, just like Rhys and Cassian, Morrigan and Amren and Azriel. Along with thousands of others that believed in the good and hoped for it to win.

And so, Elain realized, she could hope too - would hope - that he is going to return. Safe and sound.

The snow on the streets and rooftops of Velaris twinkling under the many streetlights like a thousand fallen stars, leading the lost warrior home. The billowing curtains -hopefully- beckoning him to come closer as the two heavy sheets of fabric waved at the night.

Beckoning him to come closer to his family.

Any part of his family.

Elain didn’t care to whom he would find his way, she just hoped he could find this way. Perhaps he already flew towards winter, having long crossed Day and Dawn on his way as he was now to spend some time with his brothers, friends and the female he so loved. Maybe his wings had flown him home to his mother, that awaited him with open arms and a warm smile on her threshold.

Though there was a selfish wish inside Elain’s worried chest as she moved on silent feet down the winged staircase. Her long cosy gown swishing past her naked feet, like a fluffy cloud of dawn. The cosy cream white blanket atop of her long peachy gown, the last sunrays of the day that caressed the fluffy clouds a last time for the day.

Sunshine incarnate.

That was what Azriel had once called her - by accident. His cheeks having taken on the same peachy colour as her gown, as she remembered this day with a smile on her lips. How he had rambled apology for apology silently under his breath.

This selfish wish inside her growing with each minute, as she searched for a distraction from the bloodshed she had seen, only minutes ago.

Elain Archeron, seer of the Night Court and defender of Velaris, wished for the shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court, her friend, to come home and see her sunshine glow in the darkness of night.

She wished for him to be here. Left her window wide open in the hopes of this selfish wish.

Wandering with a heavy heart, a soft hand placed atop of this traitorous thing as she walked circle for circle in the foyer. Her naked feet silently swashing step for step over the cold marble as a grandfather clock, in the far away corner of the sitting room, called her out of her endless wandering and wondering. Announcing to her the begin of the new day - Solstice - as it struck twelve.

Finally woken from her trance she saw nothing.

Nothing that came even close to a Solstice decorated house. Garlands - along with the other decorations- stored safely away in the far back of a closet.

With a huff did Elain start her hunt for the almost exploding cardboard box - the faerie lights all around the house turned on as she dug into closet for closet.

Only in a little chamber, where she needed to dive through thousands of papers and weapons she found it. Her nightgown and the blanket covered in a veil of dust as she wanted to lift the box triumphally up but let it fall instead, her petite arms not able to hold up all of the heavy weight. Fir branches, garlands, mistletoes, little wooden figures as well as a heavy little wooden box - raining down on her.

All far older than the things that were normally used, so it seemed, as cobwebs danced down on her. Covering her honey golden hair under a hat of grey nets. A cough escaping her lungs, just before a sneezing fit took over – the whirling dust having played a bit too much with her nose trills.

With a, for her unlikely, groan did she bent down to pick everything up. Her form slightly shivering in the coldness of the small chamber, even with the heavy blanket around her.

how could she always be that clumsy? It was a wonder that she hadn’t suddenly tripped in her garden yet. Accidently ripping out all the plants she had planted with such careful hands - that were now dust covered. As she loaded garland for garland, figure for figure into the cardboard box.

Until she saw a little wooden case - engraved with twines and flowers, so it seemed. A heavy layer of dust hiding the once shiny wood underneath it.

Who had forgotten it here?

It looked really old and somehow bits of the wood seemed to be worn out - along with the clank on the backside of the musical box. The once shiny metal having taken on the colour of a deep grey.

Somehow this little box was fascinating her the little rusty lock, that kept the music box tightly shut, seemingly calling for her to open it. A lullaby on its own as she listened into the silence. Her eyes straying ever so often from the little box in her petite hands, searching for the little key that would fit the lock.

But no matter how hard she searched for it - it was nowhere to be found.

No paper hid it underneath, no layer of dust cloaked it, the cardboard box also never having swallowed a key. A sigh escaped her lips as she stood up on wobbly feet, tugging the little wooden box carefully away beneath all the fir branches in the carton.

The way towards the door a fight on its own again as swords, arrows, bows, daggers and papers cluttered her way. Cold steel meeting Elain’s naked feet more than once as her eyes could not see what was underneath the large box in her hands.

But somehow she managed to move across the room and finally leave it again - no blade having cut her. A dusty hell which she would probably clean later throughout the week. She needed to get the time over anyway.

And with this thought in mind, bloodshed and war long forgotten, she started her magic. Transforming this cold lonely house - within only one hour- into a glittering sea of Solstice decorations.

She might have been alone and would be for the rest of the week, but that did not mean she couldn’t decorate the house. No one would take the decorations and the cosy feeling of Solstice from her, as she lightened the fireplace. the happy crackling of the fire suddenly reminding her of snaping bones.

Bones of the Spymaster that ... . No!

She would not go there, would not let her mind wander into these dark parts of her mind again as she tried her hardest to overcome these blood-filled thoughts within the last hour.

The seer simply needed to distract herself further. There would still be a later time in which she could enjoy watching the flames lick happily at the wood it feasted on -letting warmth embrace her instead of fear.

And just in case fear wanted to overwhelm her again - she needed some nerve food. The plenty of cookies she wanted to bake this year, somewhere abandoned in the back of her mind. But the thought of searching in her endless messy cook books for a cookie recipe unmotivated her, so Elain decided to go for something easy.

A recipe she already baked with her mother in the innocent days of her childhood. The smell of freshly baked butter cookies always connected to the cosiest time of the year. Stitched into her mind - just like the recipe itself.

Already on giddy feet hurrying into the large kitchen, she made a mental list of supplies she needed: butter, sugar, vanilla sugar, flour, an egg, a bowl, a rolling pin ... of course, a baking trey with baking paper and some cookie cutters.

Perhaps she could find some old chocolate too.

Even though they tasted - for her at least- almost better without gloss and sprinkles than with them, but Feyre liked those with chocolate gloss - so doing a bit of glazing won't hurt.

With a giggle on her lips and a grandfather clock in the corner that struck two, she hurriedly turned off all the lights in the house. Baking those divine smelling cookies only under the cosy light of some candles. The scent of cinnamon, oranges, fir trees and freshly baked butter cookies soon enveloping the lonely quiet house. A cold wind from upstairs occasionally getting lost in the kitchen, letting the fire of the candles dance in the dark - deep shadows running along the walls whenever wind and fire danced.

It made Elain only smile more as she baked trey for trey - tiredness not even a whisper in her body as her thoughts were preoccupied.

‘I wonder what Az and the others are doing right now.’

A humourless chuckle escaped her as she rolled the rolling pin further through the next dough. It was past two, either way they were drinking or sleeping.

And what did she do? Baking butter cookies in the middle of the night, because a wave of nostalgia crashed down on her, a nightmare kept her awake and she felt lonely!

Just how she always wanted to spent the Solstice, a family festivity without the family she thought she had.

It hurt to know that. Hurt to know that they were all laughing and celebrating, exchanging presents - while she was stuck here. Perhaps she should have asked if she could come along, but then again - she would have probably ruined it for them.

Her family seemed to think that they could never speak on normal terms with her. They never knew that she, too, could speak like a normal fae being - not like one that was always stuck in the meeting of some lords or ladies, a stick shoved up her ass.

“Holly mother!” she groaned as Elain rubbed tiredly at her eyes, maybe she just wanted to get rid of the tears that started to whelm up there. Her heart having finally taken enough hurt and damage as she crumbled - just like the butter cookie she shoved into her mouth.

Alone - that was what she was. Always meant to be left behind - protected- like they liked to call it, but the seer couldn’t take the isolation anymore. Each tear that ran down her cheeks, a butter cookie she ate.

Some were still too hot, but she didn’t feel it as she stood at the floured kitchen counter and stole cookie for cookie from the treys. Those sweet little stars, hearts and smiley cookies the only things that comforted her, as she braced her arms next to a half-eaten trey. Her streaming tears luckily only hitting the empty part of the counter top - she didn’t want the cookies to become mushy, but then again - next to her - who would eat them?

‘Snap out of it!’ was all Elain could repeat over and over again in her mind. Deep shivering breaths shattering her lungs while she did so. This wave of hurt from perhaps, two, three hours ago, burying her deep in the tides once again.

She had overcome this already once she could do it again, tried Elain to convince herself, but there was this dark feeling inside her - that mocked her, laughed at her, pulled her always back down into the raging tides of her mind - each time a bit deeper.

It was this dark mocking voice inside her that spoke as she opened her tightly shut eyes again, those emotionless eyes having once again returned to her as she eyed one of the butter cookies “What am I doing here?”

And just as she thought the bells of the grandfather clock had drowned her out, there was this deep voice that rumbled along the dark gongs.

“That I’d like to know too.” it was a mere whisper of silence, but never would her pointed ears overhear his raven voice. Her head snapping immediately up to meet his confused hazel eyes. They looked paler, but at the same time more awake than ever as they found her widened ones.

A breathless choke escaping her as she saw him standing there in the doorway - wings tightly closed behind him, a black tunic stretching over his broad chest and shadows dancing behind him.

Completely unharmed -just a bit dishevelled- his hair more tousled and a light stubble spread over his sculpted cheeks, but he was fine.

Completely unharmed.

The seer couldn’t contain her happiness as Azriel voice had pulled her out of her trance - a wave of relief flooding her as she stormed around the kitchen counters and jumped right into his arms.

One of her cookie crumble smeared cheeks was pressed against his warm chest, spreading crumbs on the clean black fabric while her ears listened to the calm thrumming of his heartbeat - a sniffle escaping her as she looked, through a tear cloaked vision, up at him.

A genuine wide smile stretching across her cheeks, as he looked down on her.

Azriel looked baffled at first, but a shy little smile spread on his lips too, once he heard Elain’s hoarse voice. “You are finally home again.” “I am finally home again, yes and thank you very much for the open window.” The seer couldn’t contain herself, couldn’t think about any consequences as she hugged him even tighter.

Azriel. Azriel. Azriel.

Her mind chanted his name over and over again. A warm feeling sprouting once again in her heart as he softly whipped away cookie crumb for cookie crumb on her cheeks - those scarred hands of his as gentle as any feather - as she silently laughed at him through streaming tears; “Please, Az, never do that again. Promise me, please.”

“What shall I never do again?” a puzzled look crossed his features as his thumb stopped abruptly its whipping, before realization dawned on him - though it was the wrong one as he tried to pull his hands away - already searching for an apology.

But Elain wouldn’t have this tonight. And so, she lifted her own hands and laid them carefully atop of his - pressing these warm palms of him back onto her salty cheeks, a fierce look in her teared eyes as his searched hers for answers.

“Please, Az, never again - you hear me - never again stay away from me for almost a whole month without at least a little note. Please, I was worried sick.”

He nodded, even though there was confusion written across his face as his brows furrowed, before he spoke. The ravenous sound of his voice finally caressing her ears again “I had left you a message though.”

“Really?” The Spymaster nodded curtly as his face turned firm.

Those sinful lips of his pressed into a thin line while he held onto her petite body. His shadows turning slightly wilder as they seemed to roll off of him in waves - a sign that he was trying to hide his rage. Elain had noticed that a long time ago, that he seemed to hide in his shadows once he was close to showing too many emotions - it was a way to keep him safe.

But worry still piled in the seers' stomach as she looked up at him - had a mission gone wrong that he needed to report?

“Where are the others?” he suddenly asked, his voice pressed, as this cold voice hissed in laughter at her again.

Wasn’t it obvious that he came for them? Not for a crippled thing like you! It hissed at her, eating up all her hope and what was left of her to make her happy - the smile she put on now not the genuine one she shared with him.

It was the same emotionless grimace she put on when she first tried to be fae. Her voice sounding even to her empty.

“They are in Winter. I’d thought you already knew that they were going to celebrate Solstice and Feyre’s birthday this year there. Vivianne and Kallias are also going to celebrate Viviannes rise to the High Lady of the Winter Court with them.”

Hurt suddenly flashed through Azriel’s eyes - most likely at the sound of her voice. He needed to swallow hard. It looked like he had trouble to deal with the information's - while Elain had trouble to deal with all the questions swirling around in her mind.

“I am so sorry Elain.” “For what?”

Azriel breathed in deep through his nose, before he pulled her - in the flash of a second- into the soothing veil of shadows around him. Crashing her face once more into his chest as quiet whispers surrounded her - one of them was his voice; “I left a message to Rhys, Feyre, Mor and Cassian - I even left a letter, that said I would be gone for at least the next month -perhaps even longer- at both of their desks.”

Betrayal, hurt, it all clashed through her as she heard these words. He trusted them all - just not her! He -

“El, please hear me out before you judge.”

A firm nod was all she could give him.

“I had asked them to tell you, that you don’t need to worry. I just wanted to clear my head off a bit, ...” Long silence enveloped them before he - for once- broke the silence, the shadows almost drowning out his whispered words “... I wouldn’t have been able to go once I would have seen your worry, your sadness, but I couldn’t stay either. Couldn’t endure to be around her when I hadn’t figured out yet what she is to me. So, I had asked them to tell you -had hoped they would- but apparently ...”

The rumble she felt in his chest as he growled the last part could have competed with one of the heaviest thunderstorms in the mortal realms - he would surely leave just as much damage in his rage.

He trusted them and they -somehow- betrayed this trust of his. Hopefully they would have a good excuse for this, she thought as Elain hugged her Shadowsinger tighter. This wonderful, insane driving scent of his coating and enveloping her like a coat again -the cosiest cloak she ever wore.

“It’s fine now. You are home again. Safe and sound – that is what matters.”

This time he was the one that could only nod. His eyes hidden somewhere above of her as she was still pressed into his warmth. “Do you perhaps need help with those cookies of yours?”

Elain's giggle -that washed through his body like a wildfire- was all he needed to smile. Her shining eyes finding him once she had wrestled herself free. “With eating them, yes. But I can do the cleaning alone, maybe you could search for a blanket. Feyre always seems to hide the cosiest ones mother knows where.”

A dark chuckle rumbled through the house as they both began their tasks in silence. “Are you sure that it’s Feyre who hides them and not Amren?” “I could bet a cookie trey on that!”

Needless to say - she lost that cookie trey.

The kitchen starting to look normal again, while Azriel had found a cosy blanket - large enough for the two of them - hers from before abandoned somewhere on the couch.

A silky short black hair peeking out from the folds of the blanket. This victorious smirk on his lips so insufferable and yet beautiful, that she could not help herself as to groan silently – while he placed two glasses of wine on the small side table. Already tugged in under the blanket.

Azriel laughed as he saw how Elain balanced ten fully packed boxes of butter cookies into the room - handing one to him: “Your won trey of cookies.”, letting the others practically fall onto the wooden table as she grabbed her glass of wine and snuggled under the blanket too.

His warmth, the warmth of the fire and the blanket enveloping her as he carefully lay one wing over the sofa lean - pulling Elain in tighter ever so softly.

A feeling of peace washing through her while they watched the flames dance. The shadows to their feet occasionally twitching up to them, to inform their master of the safety they were in – never leaving before brushing the cheek of the seer, that stuffed herself with butter cookies again.

Nursing already the second glass of wine, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier – her spinning head slowly sliding from his shoulder – sleep finally seemed to claim her.

Those golden curls of hers soon spilling in his lap, as she fell onto it sleepily – the glass somehow still safely in her hand, before it was taken from her.

A soft feeling suddenly stroking her head in lazy movements - making her want to purr like a cat. She didn’t precisely start to purr, but she couldn’t resist to nuzzle closer into the soft touch of his hands.

Azriel’s soft hands that were always in reach for her, that always were so gentle with her. His touch -even if it just was a whisper of it- leaving her skin, her blood, her heart alight. This wildfire burning and yet somehow saving her.

Elain was never sure of what to think of this wildfire inside her whenever he was near, but never too close. Now she thought she knew what it was, this burning flame longing for him.

Longing for his attention, his words, his touch – his love.

And somehow, she thought, she had found it all tonight as she was nuzzled into him. This burning untamed and twisting fire suddenly turning into a cosy little ball of sunshine that warmed her skin and her heart, like the sun rays in the days of Spring and Summer did.

It was like coming home – or in her case having home come to her.

Her mind finally catching up to her heart, to finally understand those feelings. Those softly blooming feelings, that would stay in an eternal Spring.

“Az?” she suddenly asked. Her eyes closed softly as her smiling face was turned to him, his hands – thank the mother- still buried in her mass of hair. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

He hesitated for a moment, before he nodded. Though her heart ached and her throat was desert dry, she needed to ask him, needed to know. “Who did you mean when you said you couldn’t be around her?”

“Morrigan.”

“Why that? Has she done something bad, did she hurt you?”

“Not really El, it’s just – somehow she helped me realize something and I wasn’t able to deal with it as well as I thought.”

To say Elain was never more curious than now would have been a lie. She was always curious when it came to the shadowsinger, but as the tension flooded her – curiosity never felt heavier than now.

Her wondering eyes opening slowly to see his far away gaze fixed on a strand of fire that danced along a log.

Tension resting on his shoulders as he looked stiff like a stone. The silence pushing down on them as neither dared to speak, the heavy gong of the grandfather clock suddenly awakening them from their daydreams.

A yelp escaped Elain as she flinched at the sound, an uneasy feeling waking up her entire body again. Gravity pulling at her gown as soon as she was fully woken and struggled to get a hold on the warrior. The soft rug in front of the couch luckily cushioning the fall a bit, though it didn’t prevent the cookie boxes to fall down on her.

A silent,almost drowned out clicking landing next to her ear.

For a moment she sat there, lay there, with baffled eyes between the small space of couch and table. A loud laugh erupting from her as soon as she realized her situation, the heavy rumble of Azriel’s ravenous chuckle joining hers until he noticed the small high-pitched noise – that played to his feet.

A furrow settling between his thick eyebrows.

“El, are you alright?” With a huff she took the scarred hand of the shadowsinger-her love- and pulled herself up again.

The tasty baked goods laying forgotten and cracked in the boxes on the floor. Just not the little music box – which the shadowsinger picked up with great interest as something dawned in his eyes.

Recognition – Elain realized with wonderous eyes. Her petite curious form taking up the space next to him again

It was his music box!

“Azriel are you alright?”

He could only turn his -so incredibly- happy face to her. Those hazel eyes of his almost drowning in tears as he looked like a little kid on Solstice that had received the present of his dreams. Holding it in his shaking scarred hands like a sacred treasure.

Elain always knew Azriel was never a male of many words, but as he lay the delicate box in his lap and crashed her entire being with one hug – she was never more amazed than now. Warmth spreading through her. Elains bones and her very blood singing of the feelings that were weaved into her being.

Home.

She thought again. Azriel was her home – even though he might not have realized it yet, she would gladly wait for him to see -perhaps- home in her one-day too. But maybe he already did that.

The fire his body gave over to hers, more than just his body heat. There was so much in this hug, as his face was buried in her shoulder. Tears dripping down on the pale skin of her shoulder as she carefully hugged him too.

Those soft feelings of her’s hopefuly showing him everything her heart could offer.

A sniffle of him, pulling them apart. The question of why he hugged her, of why he cried – lost on the tip of her tongue as he beat her to it.

“This music box, it belonged to my mother.”he fumbled for something around his neck, pulling at a long black bond – to which a little rusted key was attached. Fitting perfectly inside the lock.

A beautiful little melody beginning to play as soon as he turned the crank a few times, soft petals of a delicate Violet opening as it took slow turns - amazement written across Elain’s face.

Azriel only smiled at it. The story behind the little music box wrestling itself free.

“It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when I was dropped into Windhaven – it was next to the clothes I had on me the only thing I possessed. She gave it to me, telling me: ‘As long as this melody plays, there is hope that we will live one day in freedom.’ And I believed her – turning the crank each night before I went to bed and each morning before I went to training.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him “When Rhysand’s mother picked me up and gave most of her attention to me, instead of Rhys and Cass – they weren’t the fondest of me. And when they found out about the music box - they took it from me.

Rhys words echoed still for many months in my head: ‘Isn’t the attention of my mother good enough for you or why are you always listening to this baby toy?’. Back then, when they took it, I had not let a single word slip from my lips for the next two months as I plotted out how I could make them give it back to me, but soon after these months of silence did my mother come free.

She had earned her freedom again, while I still fought for mine. But I was so incredibly happy, that I had lost thought to the music box. Only when my mother had asked me four centuries ago if I still had it – I remembered it again. Guilt had filled my guts as I told her I had lost it, but she only smiled and told me, once I had it I should not keep it.”

Azriel’s eyes never strayed from the frayed wood as a deep chuckle erupted from him, a barely audible whisper following “I hadn’t known what she meant back then, but now I do.” Before he turned to Elain.

Telling her the last parts of this story with such sincerity, that the pure look of his eyes into hers, had her warm and cosy. Her insides carving to be with him, to just hug him, but she wanted to see him tell this story. Did not want to miss one of his loving gazes, so this had to do – her hands softly cupping his as they held and listened to the music together.

“Even though it confused me that I should give it away - I still asked Rhys where they hid it, but he didn’t remember. I remember that all three of us Cassian, Rhys and I, had turned the hut in the mountains, in Windhaven and the town house in Velaris upside down. No one of us even heard a tiny tone of the melody and eventually gave up on it – they did at least. Somehow, I was never able to lose hope –probably an echo of the melody that still played in my ears.”

Soft chuckles escaped him a final time before he closed the lid, put the tiny key with the black leather bond atop of it and carefully lay it into Elain’s hands, wonder lacing her gaze as she looked down at it.

Azriel’s next innocent words held so much meaning, yet he only whispered them. Shy hazel eyes boring into her tearing doe ones.

“Elain Archeron, I am so incredibly thankful you found it for me. Though it doesn't come close to the feeling of happiness and joy that erupts inside of my chest whenever I see you. Your voice alone a lullaby to me. One that calms me, sooths me and somehow always manages to be there for me when I need you. A friend.”

A sudden pang of hurt crossed her heart, but she smiled nonetheless. If she could make Azriel happy as a friend, she would be happy too – would take joy in seeing him happy for the rest of eternity. Even though her traitorous heart started just tonight to hope for his love. Hoped that those scarred palms of his would hold and nurse her heart for the next millennia's – until the mother decided it was time for the seer to go.

“So, I thought.” he suddenly said. Snapping her out of her cruel train of thoughts. Capturing her eyes- her attention- once again.

“I had always thought you were a friend, had always thought the safety, the lightness I felt around you was the same with my brothers. I had for more than five centuries believed love was supposed to be a burning thing – one that burned and feasted upon feelings until one day nothing but ashes were left, but you proved me wrong. Made me realize what love is.”

Elain was speechless, her eyes having long brimmed over with tears as she held the little box in shaking palms.

Her heart realizing what it meant to him, what he gave her.

His heart. He gifted her his heart.

Those scarred hands, having placed it shyly in her hands – while they now whipped her tears away again. Her heart beating so unbelievably fast as he placed his forehead softly atop of hers. “When Mor sought me out at the beginning of the month – I think I already started to realize that my heart had long fallen for you, that I had fallen for you. Mor came to tell me about her preferences of females and in all honesty it didn’t really hurt.”

Elain nodded. One week after Azriel was gone the golden female had it declared officially. The seer had always respected the Morrigan, though on that evening she had been slightly angry with her – thinking she chose to tell this then when the one that effected it the most wasn’t there. The fact that Elain now found out that she had sought him out a week earlier already – made her feel guilty.

She hadn’t known that. But she came to realize something. “You had left to get your thoughts sorted out.” Azriel only nodded.

“These twenty days I had spent away from you made me realize the longing I felt. The longing to be close to your heart.”

Elain only smiled at him.

Her tear-stained vision seeing him. Seeing how the reflections of orange and red danced in those soft black hairs of his, every vein in his wings seeable as the fire shone through it. Her eyes, so it seemed, able to see his wildly beating heart when she gave him back the box.

His form grew stiff as he held the old wood back in his hands, but Elain kept the key.

The key to his heart.

And he understood. A blinding smile erupting on his face as he took the box back. Elain’s sheepish voice a mere whisper when she asked him: “Is it selfish of me – to want to be the key to your heart?”

Azriel didn’t answer that, not with words at least as his lips crashed hers.

Joy and happiness claiming him, making him act before thinking of the consequences. Though, he thought with a smile, as Elain’s lips pillowed his: I will verry much enjoy these consequences.

But there were no consequences. All he got was Elain’s unbelievably big heart – that beat in the same thumping rhythm as his as their chests were pressed together.

Elain’s petite body laying atop of his as her love completely overwhelmed him. The realization of that had her giggling into the kiss, until they broke apart. Heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips as they gaped for air. Elain fully bursting out laughing once she realized what she did.

Her bell like laugh echoing throughout the house, like a warm breeze of wind in summer as she hugged the shadowsinger – her shadowsinger.

Those pointed ears – which she had cursed for so long- listening to the song of his heartbeat while his scarred hands – to which she gave so much admiration – drew calming circles on her back as they lay on the couch.

The fire crackling, the cookies and the wine abandoned and the music box and the key safely put aside on the table. Their souls finally having found the way together as their hearts were finally able to embrace the other fully.

Their heated lips finding purchase on those on the other one ever so often as they showered in silent kisses on the eyebrow, the forehead, the nose, the cheek, the hands – leaving the skin of each other alight with every wet kiss.

Trust, love, adoration and so many other emotions weaved into the air between them as they fell asleep at the struck of five – not even the loud gong of the grandfather clock able to pull them apart from their little world.

Perhaps, they thought, it was good that their family wasn’t home – like that there was no need to be silent.

And neither was.

The house having long brimmed over with love as each of their family members came back. Standing baffled in the foyer as they watched sunshine and shadows dance, or rather chase. A play of tag having erupted between the two, while giggles and chuckles flooded the house.

Only a coughing fit of Cassian was able to make them look at their family. Mor and Amren smirking at what they was displayed infront of them, while Rhys and Feyre were left speechless. Nesta looked like as if she either wanted to stab Az or puke on the floor at the sweet silliness with which they chased each other.

All of them having witnessed the shower of kisses in which Elain drowned Azriel as she got him. Though he did not seem to mind. Her lips still pressed against his cheek as they were caught.

But before even one of them could speak up – Azriel glared at them all and winnowed away together with his love.

_____________________________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed that one. Though I do admit it had hurt a bit to portray Rhys as such an a-hole.

But I needed someone that was close to Az and could play a meaner rolle and since we all know that both, Cass and Rhys, had troubles to get along with Az at first I chose Rhys, because he could winnnow stuff away.

Anyway, here is a small hint for tomorrows fic:Something little comes around ;)

Taglist: @heirofthrnightcourt004

#acotar secret snowflake #elriel solstice #elain angst #elain archeron #azriel #sjm #elriel fluff #elriel first kiss #mentions of the IC #elriel alone at home #Merry Chrismas

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princessofimaginarydragons · 5 years

Text

Prompt #26 - Slosh

FFXIV Write 2019 - 30 Day Writing Challenge

Hosted by @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

~~~

Takes place after the events of Shadowbringers MSQ, but doesn’t really contain spoilers (maybe if you squint)

~~~

The tray of drinks sloshed around as they were deposited in the middle of the large table, the barmaid giving the group of Scions a wink as she slid away.

Iscara reached out for a bottle, flicking the cork out with a thumb, before taking a long chug, and then raising it up, “Cheers.”

Y’shtola chuckled, “I’m sure you’re meant to do that before you start drinking.”

“That was some hours ago,” Alphinaud pointed out, handing the miqo'te the glass of wine he had just poured.

“Yes, and some of us should probably stop,” Thancred interjected, pointedly looking at Ryne, who blushed, and pushed her glass away.

“It’s a celebration Thancred, let the girl enjoy it.”

“She won’t enjoy the hangover tomorrow.”

“Never had one in my life,” the warrior of light grinned at him. Thancred narrowed his eyes at her, and muttered ‘lucky sot’ under his breath.

“Never ever?” Alisaie looked over at the warrior, who shook her head, and earned a sigh in response.

“What’s with the heavy sighing?”

“Oh, nothing serious. Just…” the young elezen looked over at her friend, “Sometimes, I think that I barely know you. I know that’s not true, but…”

Iscara put her bottle down, looking over at Alisaie for several moments, the table quiet. Then she let out a sigh, took a long swing, draining the bottle dry, and said, “Fine, let’s do this.”

“What?”

“You want to know things? About me? Ask away.”

“What, just like that?”

“You are my friends. My best friends. I trust you, all of you. And, lets face it, I am a close-mouthed bitch most of the time. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t know me. Aaaand Lolorito happened to find out I have a sister, and that fact that he knows that when you don’t makes me feel weird. Also I’m pleasantly inebriated, so ask away.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yup. And she’s got eight kids, I’m very used to being called ‘Aunt Is’.”

“How old?”

“Eldest is fourteen now, youngest is only a few months. Nine possibly? I lose count. It’s where all my earrings disappear to, they get used as chew toys.”

“Where do they live?”

“They moved into Ala Mhigo after we took it back from the Garlean’s. Oma brought the merc banner down to fight in the liberation efforts, and once it was free, she wanted to stay. Jaydra brought the family because she’s been wanting to move for a while, and thinks she can get a good foothold with her business in the city.”

“Oma?”

“What business is she in?” The twins simultaneously asked.

“Oma is grandmother. Jaydra’s a goldsmith, she makes a good two thirds of the stuff I wear.”

“Thou has mentioned before in passing that thou does not consider thyself Ala Mhighan. May I enquire as to why, as it seems thy family is closely tied to the city?”

“Oma is Ala Mhigan, and there’s a fair few in my family tree. But there’s also other bits and pieces of different nationalities in there as well. I wasn’t born in Gyr Abania, didn’t grow up there either. I’m highlander, for sure, but personally I don’t feel I have any ties to Ala Mhigo, their culture is second hand to me. I had what you could probably call a ‘blended’ upbringing. More than anything else, I guess I think of myself as ‘Eorzean’.”

“What are those other bits and pieces then?”

“Okay, family tree time. So, Oma is Ala Mhigan, and she got together with a Limonsan, which made my dad. My mum’s father was Ala Mhigan as well, but her mother was the product of an Ala Mhigan and a Gridanian. And I think the Gridanian was a product of a Gridanian and an Ishagardian, but I’d have to ask about that.”

Alisaie was leaning her head on one hand, listening with rapture, “Multicultural indeed.”

Iscara hummed her agreement, knocking back another drink.

“Where were you born then, if not in Gyr Abania?”

“Mor Dhona. Southern shores of Silvertear Lake. Of course, it’s the Carteneau Flats these days.”

“Was there a reason for that?”

“The family and the merc banner, actually back a little bit. So, Oma inherited the mercenary banner, ‘Winter’s Edge’, and made a name for it and herself. So when King Theodoric came to power, and started doing things she didn’t like, she just packed up the banner and went out on an ‘extended work trip’. Basically unofficially quitting the city until it got sorted out, which, well you all know what happened there. And since everyone knew what she was doing, some of the family members of the mercs under her banner came with her, and it kind of grew, until it was this large nomadic band, going where the work was. Mor Dhona was empty, and central, and a pretty good place to make a more central camp, so there were there for a few years, and that’s when I was born.”

“What’s your favourite colour?” Ryne’s soft voice came from the corner.

Iscara smiled at the young girl, “Blue. More specifically, pale blues, like ice crystals, or hydrangea flowers”

“I’ve got one,” Thancred leaned forward, “Best and worst fights. Your opinion.”

Iscara winced, “Give me something easy, why don’t you,” she took a swig of the bottle as she thought. “Worst, Zenos. Rhalgr’s Reach was probably the worst of them all. Best? Thordan. Not for the fighting, that was easy, he wasn’t as good as he thought he was. None of them were, and that’s why showing them what a real Fury could do was so satisfying. Not healthy, but really, really satisfying.”

“Are you a follower of Halone?”

“Yup. And before someone asks, no, I was before Ishgard. I’ve been her follower since childhood, she was who I invoked when I was named.”

Y’shtola frowned a little, “Were you not named when you were born?”

“No. Not properly. There’s a, I guess who’d call it a belief in my family that a person’s name says a lot about them. So when children mature enough, they can pick their own name. Until then, they tend to have nicknames or a ‘kit name’. Although there’s a couple of people I know who liked those names so much they kept them.”

“So you chose the name Iscara?”

“And Wintermere. We all tend to have winter in our surname, keeps the family connection. Mere is an old name for a lake, referencing where I was born.”

“And Iscara?”

She smiled, “My first ever friend gave the name to me. Well, she gave me a title in her language, and Iscara is kind of what is translates to when you put in Eorzean.”

“Which language doth it stem from?”

Iscara chuckled, “You’re clever people. Learned people. I’m not going to tell you, but I would be interested to see if you can work it out. And what it means.”

Urianger raised an eyebrow, Y’shtola chuckled. Alphinaud dived into a tome in his bag, Alisaie rolled her eyes. Ryne looked slightly confused, and Thancred shrugged, “Well I hope there isn’t a prize because I have no chance of winning it.”

The warrior of light chuckled, “I don’t know. You’re pretty good at turning up unusual information when you want to.”

“So there is a prize?”

“You want something more than the satisfaction of knowledge?”

“Yup.”

She tapped the table, “Alright. That pool Tataru has going. About my love life.”

“Ooooh, you know about that?”

“Course. Anyway. I’ll tell the winner the answer.”

There was a moment of silence, then Alphinaud stood up suddenly, redness across his cheeks, “SorrybutIthinkIneedtogotobenowgodnightall,” he said without breathing before turning and abruptly walking away from the table.

“Oi! Don’t you dare think you can go and break into the crystal tower at this point at night!” His twin yelled at him, also leaving the table to chase after him.

“Prithee excuse me, and I shall see that they do not cause too much ruckus,” Urianger said, exiting at a more sedate pace.

Y’shtola sighed, “You want to look in the crystal tower as much as they do.”

“The coin that hast flowed into aforementioned pot is vast.”

The thaumaturge waved a hand at him.

“Not joining them Y’shtola?”

“I doubt the information is contained within the Tomes of the Exarch. And yourself Thancred?”

“Oh, I was simply planning on taking a more immediate approach. More wine my friends?”

Iscara chuckled, leaning forward and meeting his eyes, “I could drink everyone else in the entire Crystarium under the table and still be lucid enough to not tell you a damn thing.”

“Now that sounds like a challenge.”

#ffxivwrite2019 #ffxiv #writing #fanfiction

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shurisneakers · 6 years

Text

espresso [1]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: a lot of swearing

A/N: hi :))) this is my entry for @bithors writing challenge! Thanks for the huge extension, k <33. Also, huge thanks to @samingtonwilson for being my beta reader and reading the same draft like 3 times. Unfortunately I love you, Taal.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Espresso Masterlist

College wasn’t easy.

It was actually pretty shit.

“A whorehouse full of caffeine zombies and nervous breakdowns.” As Rebecca once put it, the filter on her vernacular seemingly disappearing the moment she left her mother’s radar. “And you and I, friend, are in the smack middle of these hormonal beasts.”

Rebecca Barnes had no concern for her dressing sense or her family’s reputation of being polite and proper.

As she trudged beside you in her worn out sweatpants and a pink hoodie, her white converse dragging tiredly across the ground, she was a sharp contrast to your jeans and normal sweater.

It was a chilly morning, but there was a smile on your face because the beginning of autumn at college wasn’t actually that bad. The air was slightly cold, the trees looked beautiful and the warmth of coffee in the morning was something you’d come to love.

You weren’t exactly excited about college, but you would rather not have to write “Please” on the “Why should we give you this job?” part of your application. You were just as sleepy as Rebecca, but you handled it better seeing as you had one of the best roommates ever who let you sleep in for five more minutes.

“I just don’t see why I was forced to pick classes in the crack ass of dawn,” she grumbled, eye bags seeming to hold the weight of the world.

“From what I remember, you only picked morning classes because you thought you had to compete with James to assert your dominance.” You quirked an eyebrow at her amusedly, as she groaned.

“Listen, first of all, it’s too fuckin’ early to diss you, so here’s a fuck you. Second of all, don’t call him James, it’s so weird. You’ve practically known him your whole life; just call him Bucky like everyone else.”

She tugged the hood of her hoodie over her head and pulled on the sleeves to cover her fingers. You already defended your choice of clothing in the morning, saying that you preferred to feel the sharp coolness of the air before it turned too cold.

You loved Rebecca. Honestly, you did. She was extra as hell, had the mouth of a sailor and quoted Vine references like an English major could quote Shakespeare.

Too bad none of them could be used in her law course.

“I know, but-” you began before you were cut off by a sudden push from Rebecca. You nearly tripped before her hand tugged you back into place, preventing you from hitting the tiled floors.

Jesus fucking Christ-

“Ah, here’s my favourite piss goblin and her best friend! Good morning, ladies. How’s the first week of the second year treating you?” Bucky’s cheerful grin as he ruffled his sister’s already messy ponytail made you laugh while she swatted his hand away.

“I’m the piss goblin? Remind me who was the one who peed their bed every day until they were 10?” She narrowed her eyes at him, shoving him away, only to earn a chuckle from him. “Egotistical ape-”

“The first week’s going okay, barista boy,” you interrupted her before she got more graphic, tearing his gaze away from her and to you. You noted the way his hair was sticking up slightly after being messed up by his cap, and the small stain on the corner of his sleeve that he didn’t seem to notice.

“I told you not to call me that,” he whined, removing his arm from around his sister’s shoulders as she squirmed furiously away from him. He sighed before ignoring her altogether.

“You called me Mario for six years straight,” you responded with a grin, sparing him a sideways glance. You wondered if he was feeling cold under that plain white full sleeved t-shirt because his nose and the tips of his ears were slightly pink.

“Still does, sometimes,” Rebecca piped up, unable to keep the laugh out of her mouth at your indignation. You narrowed your eyes at Bucky who looked away quickly.

“You promised you wouldn’t tell, snitch!”

“Don’t you have some American McFrappegrande- or whatever they’re called- to make, barista boy?” she retaliated, earning a huff from him.

“Your face is a-”

“If you both don’t shut up right now I’ll cut off both your arms and beat you both to death with them.” You stepped in between them just as he opened his mouth to spit something equally senseless.

“Geez, you’re full of fire today, Johnny Storm- ow, fuck, what was that for?! Have you seen that guy? It’s a compliment! He can flame on my ass anytime he’d like.” Bucky rubbed the part of his arm that you punched, glaring at you.

These were the people you willfully chose to hang out with on a daily basis.

“Anyways, you know Thor right? The one who got fuckin’ hammered and nearly lost an eye? He’s having a kick-back tonight at his apartment. Not a party, more low-key. I thought you both might want to come.”

“Is Natasha invited too?” Rebecca murmured, adjusting her bag straps over her shoulder.

“Of course. The more the merrier.” Bucky winked at her. She just rolled her eyes.

“I guess. You’ll drive me back to my dorm, right?”

“Do I fucking look like-”

“Alright, here are our respective stops. Please fuck off now,” you announced loudly. “Have a good day, infants.”

“I’ll see you there, right?” he asked hopefully, walking backwards while facing you both.

“Yes, you mosquito fucker, you’ll see us there.” Rebecca rolled her eyes again, shaking her head.

“Awesome.” He grinned before turning around and taking off in the opposite direction. “Have a great day, Mario! Go fuck an orange, sis!”

The both of you shared only English and while you personally enjoyed the class and the creative liberty it allowed you, Rebecca thought it was the next worst thing since Joss Whedon.

“What were we supposed to read for this class? I don’t even remember,” Rebecca asked drearily, stepping into the large room.

“We were supposed to read something?”

___

Thor was the exact opposite of what everyone expected him to be. With short cropped blonde hair, blue eyes and the impressive height of Wreck-It Ralph, he is the nicest human being on the campus.

His apartment ceilings often had fairy lights strung across it, he had numerous potted plants thanks to his shy roommate Bruce, and each wall was off-white in colour.

Thor and Bruce were fucking pure.

All of you were gathered in their living room, some a little tipsy and some who were sober. Sam, Thor, and Bruce were on one of the couches, Nat and Rebecca were on the floor where Rebecca’s head lay in Nat’s lap and Steve was draped across the armchair with Peggy half lying on him. Wanda and Bucky were the designated drivers for the evening, but Wanda took a grand total of fourteen minutes before she grabbed a beer as well. Having no other place, the three of you were shoved onto the last couch with you in the middle.

“Dude, Professor Cage was there today as a substitute. His biceps were bigger than all my hopes and dreams,” Sam groaned, dropping his head into his hand. “He could like, strangle me and I’d thank him.”

“Gamora, though,” Nat added, shaking her head. “She’s a fucking badass.”

“I swear, Professor Gamora owns my whole ass. I would literally die for her,” Rebecca declared to the raising of a couple of bottles. “It isn’t fuckin’ fair. “How can someone be so smart and good looking at the same time?”

“I think I’m best qualified to answer that, sis.” Bucky grinned, earning a snort from you and a few laughs.

“You are, without a doubt, the ugliest fucking thing I have laid my eyes on, James.”

“There is a mirror in your room for a reason, Rebecca. Use it sometime.” He took a swig of his beer, tipping his jaw up as a sign of smugness.

“I’ll shove that mirror up your ass so that maybe you can finally see how deep your head is in there, Bucky,” she grumbled, to which Nat laughed, continuing to thread her fingers through Rebecca’s hair.

It was around 11 and the earlier part of the evening had been spent in eating pizzas, or anything you could get your hands on really. There was a debate about whether the colour changing dress or the Yanny-Laurel shit was more annoying (which Sam ended up winning, for some godforsaken reason no one could remember) and the excitement had worn off so there was just a comfortable silence hanging in the air.

“Does anyone want to play truth or dare?” Steve asked from the couch, his voice muffled by his girlfriend.

“No.”

“Fuck you guys.”

“Been there, done that, wouldn’t recommend,” Peggy said, shrugging. He poked a finger into her side, making her jump and curse at him, but retreating back to her original position with the hint of a smile playing at her lips.

You stared at them, head tilted. “You guys are disgusting. Feel like ’m going to vomit glitter.”

“Just for that comment, truth or dare?”

“Oh, fuck me in the ass- dare.” You threw your hands up, spilling some of your drink onto Bucky who winced. You immediately mouthed an apology that he shrugged off with a smile, an amused expression on his face.

Everything was hazy and little funnier and happy. You liked it.

“I dare you to eat that bug on the wall over there.”

“Truth.” You ignored his statement, nodding your head at him.

“Fine, would you eat that bug on the wall over there?”

“Never have I ever.”

“That’s not how this fucking game works-“ Steve shot up as loud laughter cut him off. “I hate you.”

“I can live with that,” you said, shrugging.

“Bucky, truth or dare?” Bruce offered, shooting Steve a half smile who instead returned an appreciative nod.

“Truth,” he said lazily but smiling albeit.

“Most embarrassing moment of high school?”

“Um,” he paused, eyebrows furrowing, “I-I’m not sure-“

“Oh, how about the time Y/N walked in on you writing a love letter?” Rebecca raised her hand helpfully, only to be met with a glare.

“Jesus, Becks!”

“That was a love letter?! To who?!” you exclaimed, twisting your body to look at him.

“Nobody!”

“Liar! I remember that day! You nearly jumped out the window so that I wouldn’t see it.”

“I am not answering the question.” Bucky huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Spoilsport,” Thor called out only to receive a middle finger.

“Tell us who the special person was, James,” you sang, leaning your head on his chest, laughing.

“You tell us the guy you were hung up on the entirety of high school,” Steve fired back in defence of his friend, a smile on his face. Your body immediately stiffened up before you forced yourself to relax.

“It was no one,” you mumbled, sitting up straight. “I’ve been single all through high school.”

“Didn’t you date-“

“I’ve been single all throughout high school,” you say loudly, hoping to get your point across. Fuck, one of the reasons you joined Becka as she moved across half the country was to avoid this exact scenario.

“Well, shit-“ Sam’s eyes widened “-we need to get you laid.”

“Who said I’ve been lacking in that department?” You raised your eyebrows, feeling Bucky shift under you before returning back to normal, except wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Damn.” Peggy whistled, chuckling to herself. “How about a boyfriend?”

“What about one?”

“Don’t you want someone to have that cheesy college romance with?”

“I gotta say it isn’t on my top 3.” You shrugged, downing the rest of your drink before standing up. “Besides, there isn’t anyone on this campus who is dateable. Maybe if there was someone, I wouldn’t mind. It’s getting pretty late, so we should probably get moving.”

You avoided everyone’s gazes, and instead offered your hand to Nat who waited until Rebecca moved to pull herself up and dust herself off. Wanda had already fallen asleep, so Sam offered to help carry her back to Bucky’s car, which Bucky accepted.

After a round of quick goodbyes, the five of you got into Bucky’s car. Sam and he were roommates, as were Rebecca and Wanda.

“Bucky. Play Africa by Toto.”

“I will not play that godless song in this car.”

“Lil’ bitch.”

After fifteen minutes of ridiculous arguments, he finally dropped Rebecca and a half dead Wanda to their dorm building and rounded the corner to yours and Nat’s.

As Nat got out and you stepped out behind her, you turned to say goodnight to Bucky and Sam, finding them finger wrestling over the radio controls.

“Bye, guys. Drive home safe.” You nodded, shutting the door behind you.

“Mario, wait!” Bucky called out, making you spin on your heel to look at him. He had half his body out of the car window, looking at you over the roof of his car.

“I can- I can help you out if you want,” he said loudly, half shrugging.

“With what?” you asked, confused.

“F-finding someone who’s- you know- dateable. If you want.”

You stared at him blankly. You hadn’t considered this possibility when you said that.

“Why do you want to help me?”

“Because I care about you?” he said incredulously. “You’re like my little sister. Of course I’d help if you wanted it.”

That made sense. You’ve known Bucky as long as you’ve known Rebecca, including through his teenage emo phase, his high school jock phase, and his mature college phase and in that time you both helped each other equally, even though your only common link was his sister.

“I don’t want you to feel like I'm forcing you or anything, I just thought-“

“How?” you interjected, tilting your head.

“What?” His eyes widened comically as he leaned forward slightly.

“How are you planning to help?”

“Oh. Oh. Oh okay, yeah, um, I’ll tell you tomorrow. Meet me at the coffee shop?”

“Alright barista boy,” you agreed, giving him a half smile that he reciprocated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Awesome,” he breathed out, a grin growing on his face. “Awesome. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Night Mario.”

You waved at him as he popped back into the car and started up the engine before turning around to walk back into your building.

“Is that such a good idea- you know- considering the circumstances?” Nat’s voice broke the silence. She had her hands wrapped around her torso with a small look of concern on her face, her red hair slightly out of place because of the wind.

“What circumstances?” You knew what she was talking about, you just didn’t know how to answer it.

“High school. With him. Shit, Y/N, you were torn up for over a year-“

“It’s fine. I’m over it. It doesn’t matter now,” you interrupted her, shaking your head. You began walking towards the building, ignoring the beating of your heart.

“Are you sure?”

“Postive.”

Part 2

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #college!bucky #college!au #kumis5kchallenge

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acidwaste · 6 years

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hey so it seems i’ve forgot to do a l o t of tag memes, and i’m lucky i drafted a big bunch of them! lots of questions overlapped so i did my best to answer in different ways, sorry for the lateness! also @ the people that tagged me here, i wouldn't hesitate to kill for you

@natcaptor / @gayspaced

name: leon or lionel!

nicknames: literally the only nickname I’ve been referred to is “big gay” and like. word!

gender: im pretty sure im a guy, i have been kinda 🤔🤔🤔 abt my gender identity since around november-ish though

star sign: sagittarius!

height: 6’1! i’m told that I’m tall but my uncle is 6’7 so...

time: 3:36pm rn! ive been watching video essays and binging music all afternoon

birthday: december 9th!

favourite bands: animal collective, beach house, camp cope, car seat headrest, death grips, fleet foxes, florence + the machine, gang of youths, glass animals, gorillaz, hop along, iceage, idles, kero kero bonito, mgmt, miike snow, modest mouse, run the jewels, superorganism, the avalanches, the cat empire, the go! team, the mountain goats, the wombats, xiu xiu

favourite solo artists: alex lahey, anderson .paak, ariana grande, billie eilish, bjork, cashmere cat, charli xcx, courtney barnett, cupcakke, d.r.a.m, eric taxxon, frank ocean, gfoty, hatchie, janelle monae, jeff rosenstock, joanna newsom, jorja smith, jpegmafia, kacey musgraves, kali uchis, kendrick lamar, khalid, kimbra, lorde, mac demarco, madeon, mick jenkins, mitski, oneohtrix point never, perfume genius, ravyn lenae, rina sawayama, serpentwithfeet, sophie, st. vincent, sza, vince staples

song stuck in my head: caramelo duro | miguel // kali uchis! its a bop, miguel is one of the few singers that can convincingly make sex jams

last movie i watched: deadpool 2! it was even better than the first, which is a feat in itself ngl

when did i create my blog: december 2016??? i only started using it properly in february last year tho

last thing i googled: “im in my mums car broom broom.” dont @ me

do i have any other blogs: yeah, plenty actually!! i have blogs for aesthetic (@moltenstar), general inspo (@wverns), flight rising (@szarising, kinda inactive?), and overwatch (@blackhardts) tbh the vast majority of my ‘sideblogs’ are just saved urls H

do i get asks: when i say stupid shit like “rung has the ass of a dilf but the dick of a cockroach”

why i chose my url: that one panel where kobd have a vacation at the acid wastes because fuck its finally canon babey!

following: 1,767, which is kinda horrifying!!

followers: 890?? somehow??? thats almost One Whole Thousand and i don't even make content

average hours of sleep: around 6 or 7!! n e v e r more though

lucky number: 43 and 64!!

instruments: i'm too poor to afford music lessons or instruments jsbddsjknfs

what am i wearing: a grey shirt and nothing on my bottom half so my [redacted] is hanging tf out, i should put on some damn clothes

dream job: oooo uhhh, i’m studying to get an education degree rn because i’d love to teach children (around grade 3-4s preferably because i'm too jittery to handle anyone younger and older kids probs won't listen to me as much as i lack plenty of assertiveness), but!! i’d honestly love to be a musician, one of those underground ones that get lots of critical acclaim

dream trip: one day i wanna gather up some friends and just go on a road trip! idm where we go to, as long as we just have fun and just! adventure!

favourite foods: rare steak, mashed potatoes, eggs, and energy shakes made with like. fruit / cheese / yoghurt / oats / chia seeds ! protein is a large part of my diet

nationality: new zealand, but living in australia

favourite song right now: best part | daniel caesar // h.e.r - gosh i need to re-listen to daniel’s album again, i don’t remember this beautiful song being there and that’s a crime

@damndesi / @novarebel / @luciform-philogynist

APPEARANCE - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo (but I am getting a tā moko in December, I believe) - I have at least one piercing (planning to get a nose ring, like a bull!) - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair - My abs are at least somewhat defined (b a r e l y) - I have or had braces

PERSONALITY - I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know - I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY - I can sing well - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping (barely) - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory - I am good at doing math in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES - I enjoy sports - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority - I do some form of Martial arts

EXPERIENCES - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol (tastes like shit) - I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event - I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite bands concerts

MY LIFE - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live relatively close to my school/work - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling - I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smart phone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS - I am in a Relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a Relationship - I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily - I have had a crush for over a year - I have been in a relationship for over a year - I have had feelings for a friend

RANDOM - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone (do fractures count?) - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages (not fluently) - I have made a new friend in the past year

@smstransformers

age: 16

birthplace: auckland, nz

current time: 4:19 pm rn!!!

drink you last had: i just skulled half a liter of water whoops

favourite song: jesus etc. | wilco if we're talking abt an all-time favourite

grossest memory: accidentally swallowing a bee when i was seven years old (somehow nothing bad happened?)

horror, yes or no: not unless it’s an incredibly tame horror t b h, my threshold for scariness is very low

in love: i believe so!

jealous of people: lots of times, over really dumb things

love by first sight or should I walk by again: i believe that infatuation can exist at first sight but true love not so much. wish that could happen tho :C

middle name: shane!

siblings: my sister is eight years old, and my brother is seven!

one wish: EZ, make my anxiety disappear, i’d have a much more productive life

song i last sang: jupiter | haiku hands

time i woke up: 7:13, woke up immediately because i usually like to wake at 6:30

underwear colour: blue + purble

vacation destination: auckland / kingston / sydney!

worst habit: not remembering to make my goddamn bed, it looks like garbage

favourite food: mashed potatoes….

zodiac sign: sagittarius !!!

@alyonian

relationship status:

at the moment i’m single! and while being in a relationship sounds brilliant, the last two relationships i was involved in? didn’t work out to say the least, lucky i’m still young

favourite colour:

it’s been emerald green for the longest time but orange seems to be dethroning it at a steady pace

lipstick or chapstick:

i haven’t used chapstick since i was six but i probably should use it again, water is my substitute rn fdghdgh - and i haven’t ever used lipstick in any capacity? so i’d have to go with the former

last song i listened to:

the space traveller’s lullaby | kamasi washington - i’m trying to get through his second album rn (i left off on the second disk yesterday) and while everything he makes is undeniably amazing, it’s? a three hour album? i don’t have the attention span for his spiritual jazz, as great as it is

last movie:

monsters inc is playing on the television right now, i’ll go with that! the animation aged kinda badly but it’s still such a fun movie! sidenote: james p. sullivan? a childhood crush, so this gives me memories

top 3 tv shows/podcasts/comics:

i rarely, if ever, venture into these forms of media but! if i had to answer, i’d say;

unbreakable kimmy schmidt / parks & recreation / luke cage

taz / mbmbam (i havent like. watched a full episode of either but they seem cool,)

tf idw / …………. yeah that’s it, i’ve never read anything else. probably should!

additional favs:

my friends, writing (in theory), listening to video essays, learning music theory + instruments and understanding audio production software

top 3 bands / artists:

HHH okay if i had to limit my choices to just three artists, uh. lorde, the mountain goats, and sophie. i couldnt even fit janelle in i hate th is

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

@alyonian

color(s): light colors are always nice and pleasant, though anything peachy and sandy are the best! orange (specially pastel orange) is like. the best thing

last band t-shirt i bought: usually merchandising is very expensive and i dont have the money to accommodate that, but like. i do recall having a wiggles shirt when i was five. i wore it all the time, shjdjgsksd im sure that counts

last band i saw live: i almost went to splendor in the grass last year with family, which wasn't only cool since i’ve never been out of the state since i immigrated - the festival was in queensland, which is around a two hour flight from victoria - but the lineup was pretty fuckin lit too! the xx, haim, peking duk, tash sultana, future islands, vallis alps, a.b original,, i was p excited! unfortunately my uncle fell ill and so they had to give the tickets to extended family :( otherwise, i haven't been to a single concert in my life

last song i listened to: street fighter mas | kamasi washington - up to this song on the album and i really fuckin dig this! also the video is hypnotizing

last movie i watched: monsters inc is about to finish and up next is monsters university! which like…. honestly, this is an extremely unpopular opinion but, i like it just as much as the original? my opinion might be skewed because i’m a monster [hugger], but i like everything abt the movie! except for the finale of the scare games and the last five minutes of the movie, both were just. dreadful.

last three tv shows i watched: if aggretsuko counts that’s the last series i watched of my own volition, which is a miracle in itself considering that’s legit only the second anime i’ve watched to completion (the first being shirokuma cafe, which i probably need to re-watch). otherwise, the last two shows i had beared witness to were thirteen reasons why and queer eye bc my cousin put them on! that first show i could completely do without but queer eye is iconique

last 3 characters i identified with: grimlock (legit. all of them), urdnot grunt (mass effect) and vector the crocodile (sth), i’m not sure what this says about me other than Big

book(s) i’m currently reading: i’m reading ‘maus’ by art spiegelman at the moment, for the third time i believe? i believe my classmates are supposed to be writing an essay on this next term and shit, this novel is heartbreaking, i haven't been this emotional when reading a book than… ever, really. it’s a recommendation of the highest caliber

@victorion

name: leon / lionel, i picked up the second name because i was in a server with an admin that was also a Leon™

nickname: besides ‘Big Gay’ i also have the nickname ‘lemon lion’ which is! nice!!

zodiac sign: archer man

height: Tall™

language(s) spoken: english / some maori + italian

fav fruit: watermelons (only when in season)

fav scent: the smell of a freezer tbh? it just smells Nice i don’t know how to properly explain it

fav season: spring! the breezes are welcoming without being overbearingly freezing

fav color: ornge,,,,

fav animal: SHARKS + CROCS + FERRETS

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea! with some milk tho

average hrs of sleep: too little

fav fictional character: One character?????? uhhhhhhh……. like. biggest cc right now is either idw skids or oz from monster prom

no. of blankets you sleep with: depending on my mood but i’d say the average is like, 3??

fav songs: i quickly whipped up some songs i listen to

fav artists: i came to the realization that i like acts that are considered ‘bad’ like maroon 5/drake/lil yachty etc in specific doses… i wouldn't call them good yet, but! i have no beef and thats good

fav books: remember ‘where the wild things are’??? that shit was like. literal childhood, man.. :happytears: i really need to look for a copy again

@thonany-klieme

name: leon / lionel, interchangeable really

gender: male, im probs an nb guy

star sign: sagittarius!

height: 6’1

sexuality: gay??? im not sure, im mostly attracted to other guys but i have had very brief crushes on girls + nb people? sexuality’s confusing so im gonna just latch to the gaybel (gay label) for now

lock screen image: its the album cover of 1992 deluxe by princess nokia, tho it was “T Hanos” a few days ago since i change it often - my home screen is venom but his torso says ‘fuck machine’

ever had a crush on a teacher: no??

where do you see yourself in ten years: ideally i’m teaching kids math n english, realistically i’m probably going down with the political climate

if you could go anywhere, where would you go: new zealand!! or the netherlands

what was your favorite halloween costume: halloween is not big at all where i live, the only time i tried trick or treating was when i was like 7?? i threw a bedsheet on myself and pretended to be a ghost, though since there were no eyeholes + the sheet was blue, it looked more like i was just a moving lump

last kiss: never had one

have you ever been to las vegas: nah and i dont plan to?? how do you handle regular days of 40C wtf

favorite pair of shoes: i have this pair of jandals that ive worn for a fair bit longer than my other pair of shoes, tho i only wear them in summer + very warm nights

favorite book: ngl its. ‘the very hungry caterpillar’ by eric carle. i just, love it alot and i cant explain w h y

#acid.txt #this took a while but :wahoo:

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tudorfantasy · 4 years

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Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon: The first five years of their marriage First part

Six weeks later of the death of his father, the young King Henry VIII decided immediately on marrying Katherine of Aragon. She was his sister-in-law, escorted at sixteen by the ten year old Henry to marry his elder brother, Arthur. She was a widowed princess in financial and diplomatic limbo for seven years, rescued from this uncertainty by Henry’s ascension to the throne. He had previously been affianced to Katherine, but this had been set aside because the alliance was no longer so advantageous to the English, and her father had not paid her dowry in full. Henry was betrothed to Princess Eleanor of Austria, Katherine’s niece.

One day in early June 1509 Henry, in a buoyant mood, made his way from the Council Chamber at Greenwich to Katherine's apartments. He came alone, and dismissed her attendants. Then he raised the Princess from her curtsy with a courtly gesture, declared his love for her, and asked her to be his wife. Without any hesitation, she joyfully agreed, relief and happiness evident in her face and voice.

Speculation exists about why Henry VIII chose Katherine. He wrote to Margaret of Austria that an anti-French alliance with Spain was one of the reasons for his union with Katherine. Henry had also stated his father had commanded him on his deathbed to go through with the marriage, which, he explained to Margaret, he could not disobey. Was it one way to placate the rejected Princess Eleanor and her powerful family? Some historians dispute this deathbed promise as unfounded, particularly given the poor treatment Katherine suffered at the hands of Henry VII. The marriage was probably Henry’s decision alone.

According to Alison Weir, Henry, when discussing the marriage with his Privy Council, told of how 'he desired her above all women; he loved her and longed to wed her.' Most of the Councillors knew this: since the age of ten, Henry had looked up to and admired his pretty sister-in-law. He could easily have been smitten with her as she was one of the few women that he had been able to speak with during his adolescence. This apart, honour demanded that Henry should marry her, as by so doing he would rescue her from penury and dishonour, like a knight errant of old, and win her unending gratitude.

In her youth, Katherine was considered a great beauty, with her curvaceous figure, short stature, fair skin, blue eyes, pretty features and long, red/gold hair. She was slightly plumb, which was considered both attractive and a sign of fertility, the most important attribute a queen could have. She was one of the most highly educated young women of her age, and, like Henry, had been educated in the humanist tradition. Erasmus, the leading humanist scholar of his age, thought Henry very learned, but Katherine of Aragon even more so. She served as her father's ambassador at the English court.

Katherine was more serene and mature than Henry, and her piety was probably both deeper and more heartfelt than his. Undoubtedly Henry found her attractive, with her long golden hair and fair skin; he was impressed by her maturity, her dignity, her lineage and her graciousness. Everything about her proclaimed her a fit mate for the King of England, and Henry, who was no fool, realised this. And they had the Pope's dispensation.

The wedding took place on 11 June 1509 in a private ceremony in the queen’s closet at Greenwich Palace, where Henry had been born. Princess Katherine was 23 years of age, five years his senior. King Henry was just days short of his 18th birthday. Describing the wedding night which followed, liked to boast that he had found his wife a "maiden" (virgin). Although years later he would attempt to pass off these boasts as "jests", there seems little doubt that he had made them. Weeks after their wedding, Henry and Katherine were anointed and crowned together by the Archbishop of Canterbury at a lavish ceremony at Westminster Abbey. The festivities were brought to an end by the death of the young monarch's grandmother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, who passed away on 29 June, the day after Henry attained his majority. The King ordered the church bells to toll for six days to mark the Lady Margaret’s passing.

From the first moment of their marriage, Katherine felt that Henry loved her. He even said so. Six weeks or so after her wedding, Ferdinand received a letter from the man who was now his son-in-law. After reminding the Spanish king that he had chosen Katherine “having rejected all other ladies in the world that have been offered to us,” Henry went on to praise his wife with endearing, youthful exuberance: “And, as regards that sincere love, which we have to the most serene queen our consort, her eminent virtues daily more and more shine forth, blossom, and increase so much, that, if we were still free, her we would yet choose for our wife before all other.”

The following weeks were idyllic for the king and queen. The new king loved every minute. He could not resist telling Ferdinand what a superb time he was having. He was diverting himself, he wrote, “with jousts, birding, hunting, and other innocent pastimes,” also in visiting different parts of the kingdom, where he wanted to show himself and his pretty bride to his people. Despite all this jollity, however, Henry was quick to reassure Ferdinand that he did not “neglect affairs of state”; he was a king capable of living life to the full and ruling at the same time.

Katherine also wrote to her father. She thanked Ferdinand for the love he had constantly shown her and for ensuring that she was “so well married.” Like Henry, she was carried away by the delights on offer. “Our time is ever passed in continual feasts.”

As to the king my lord, amongst the reasons that oblige me to love him much more than myself, the one most strong, although he is my husband, is his being the true son of your highness, with desire of greater obedience and love to serve you than ever son had to his father. I have performed the office of ambassador as your highness sent to command, as was known by the king my lord, who is, and places himself entirely in the hands of your highness, as of so entire a father and lord … The news from here is that those kingdoms of your highness are in great peace, and entertain much love towards the king my lord and to me.

Ferdinand responded by sending Henry some expensive Spanish horses that Katherine had requested. Soon after their marriage, Katherine’s confessor described her as being in ‘the greatest gaiety and contentment that ever there was’.

In sìte of the five year age gap between them, the couple had a number of interests in commom, especially during the early years of their marriage. Both loved learning, literature, religion, music, pageantry and finery, dancing, entertaining, riding and hunting. There was also a great deal of physical attraction between them. As a young man, Henry VIII was considered to be the most handsome prince in Europe. He was charming, elegant, slim, tall and athletic with striking red/gold hair and ‘the colour of twin roses in his cheeks’. He was quick to laugh and 'intelligent, with a merry look’.

Henry and Katherine seemed a good match and their relationship began passionately. During the early years of the reign, when the young King and Queen passed their time in 'disports', there were picnics, hunts, tournaments, banquets, balls, sporting events, elaborate masquerades and pageants. Both Katherine and Henry presiding over a glittering court.

The couple's public relationship in the early part of Henry's reign displayed an easy cooperation, which allowed them to exchange public roles freely during civic ceremonies. One role, which Henry VIII was apparently comfortable relinquishing, was that of host during a number of special banquets. Consequently, when Henry VIII allowed Katherine to hold the chair of estate for him while he danced, he understood that he was sharing his ceremonial power with her. Her presence there sustained his authority in the hall.

Katherine has been described as Henry’s first love; she was certainly the first woman he publicly displayed affection for. Henry loved to appear in Katherine’s apartments in disguise, believing that she did not recognise him, and see her astonishment. It was a game of which, in his youth, Henry never tired; and Katherine, for her part, never spoilt his pleasure by disclosing that she knew who it was.

Henry rode in jousts under the name Sir Loyal Heart, wearing Katherine's colors, and returned after the match to lay his prizes at her feet. At some earlier jousts, Henry wore Katherine’s initials on his sleeve. Their entwined initials "HK" adorned their palaces, and possessions. His anxiety to please her was ostentatious and occasionally childish, but her desire to please him was no less, and she not only took great care with her physical appearance, but was also meticulously deferential.

For Katherine, Henry was the love of her life. She was devoted, from the very beginning of her marriage, to him. Her obvious attachment to her husband was touching and pleased the court. She referred to him variously as ‘Your Grace’, ‘my husband’ or even ‘my Henry’. Like her mother, Katherine prided herself on embroidering her husband's shirts herself. Henry loved Katherine greatly, stating publicly in French that his highness was happy because he was owner of such a beautiful angel and that he had found himself a flower. Henry loved writing poems and songs to his Queen as “Pastime with a good company” and “Green Groweth the Holly”. An early poem or “ballet” attributed to Henry includes the line,’ I love true where I did marry.’ Fray Diego could see it, writing to Ferdinand of Aragon that ‘the king my Lord adores her, and her Highness him.’

In the early times of their marriage the Katherine's influence over the young Henry VIII was very strong. She was his friend, lover and advisor. He knew how smart Katherine was and valued her opinions on everything from music to politics. Henry would do nothing without her approval; even when it came to matters of state, he would say to his councillors, or to visiting ambassadors, 'The Queen must hear this,' or 'This will please the Queen.' After the midday meal he was usually to be found in the Queen’s apartments, discussing politics, theology or books, receiving visitors, or just ‘taking his pleasure as usual with the Queen’. Often he took his supper there, and he always joined Katherine for Vespers. His chief desire was to please her. Both Katherine and Henry genuinely respected learning. Their court was once described by Erasmus as “more a university than a court” because so many men of letters found employment or patronage through the king or queen.

Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon: The first five years of their marriage

Second part

Shortly afterwards of their marriage, in August 1509, Katherine informed the King with delight that she was to bear a child in the spring. In November, the baby stirred for the first time, and a proud Henry informed King Ferdinand of the fact, to signify to him ‘the great joy thereat that we take, and the exultation of our whole realm’. The public announcement of the Queen’s pregnancy had given rise to great rejoicing in England. The court was in residence in Henry VIII’s great gothic palace at Westminster when, on 31 January 1510, the Queen went into labour prematurely. Her infant, a daughter, was stillborn, which, although considered a calamity, was not an uncommon misfortune with first babies at that time. Katherine did not have the heart to inform her father, “or suffer anyone else” to tell him.

Katherine and Henry were devastated, but, at first, seemed to hang onto the possibility that Katherine had actually been pregnant with twins and was still carrying one of them. Although she had lost her baby, Katherine’s abdomen, rather than decreasing, remained rounded and even seemed to grow bigger, leading her physician to believe the Queen was still pregnant with a child. They didn’t change their minds even when Katherine began to menstruate again. At the end of February 1510, Henry ordered the refurbishment of the royal nursery and Elizabeth Denton, the former Lady Mistress of Henry’s own nursery, was brought out of retirement in anticipation of the birth. In March 1510, Katherine entered her confinement and waited for her labour to begin. But the baby never came.

Queen Katherine suffered a strong sense of failure, compounded by guilt, because 'she had desired to gladden the King and the people with a Prince’. Henry, however, was philosophical, but even his reassurances and attempts to comfort his wife were to little avail, for she was profoundly shaken by her loss and remained depressed for several weeks, tormented by irrational feelings of guilt. Her fears that the phantom pregnancy would provoke ridicule or gossip were well-founded. Rumours soon began to circulate that she was actually incapable of conceiving. The gossip, however, came to an abrupt end. By the end of May 1510, she really was in the early stages of pregnancy -and probably had been since just before she went into confinement. Katherine herself informed the Spanish ambassador Caroz, on 20 May, that she was “not pregnant for more than nine weeks”. Caroz wrote to King Ferdinand on 28 May:

She does not wish me to write to His Highness until she sends to me because she wishes to wait until the pregnancy is well established in the third month so that the good news of the pregnancy may soften the annoyance of his Highness at what has passed.

The information about the miscarriage of January did not emerge until four months afterwards when, on 25 May on Katherine’s instructions, Fray Diego Fernández, the Queen’s chancellor, wrote to her father in these words:

All the past time I did not dare to write to your Highness of the condition of the Queen my Lady, in order not to annoy her, and because all the physicians deceived themselves until time was the judge of the truth. The last day of January in the morning her Highness brought forth prematurely a daughter, without any other pain except that one knee pained her the night before. This affair was so secret that no one knew it until now, except the King my Lord, two Spanish women, a physician and I. The physician said that her Highness remained pregnant of another child, and it was believed and kept secret.

Two days after, Katherine herself wrote to King Ferdinand. To tell the truth about her false pregnancy was so humiliating and distressing that she evaded it. She was writing, Katherine said, because she was “persuaded that he wishes to hear from her.” Katherine confirmed to her father that she “miscarried a dead daughter and because it was considered here an ill omen I did not write before to tell your Highness.” She begged him: “Pray, your Highness, do not storm against me. It is not my fault, it is the will of God. The King, my lord, took it cheerfully, and I thank God that you have given me such a husband”. Again, she repeated, as if to reassure herself, “It is the will of God”.

Henry was a romantic idealist, and Katherine knew how to make him feel like a chivalric knight. But however good a husband he appeared, he was unfaithful. For the most part, Katherine was a loving, tolerant wife, who looked the other way. But in the beginning Katherine was very upset of his affairs, and she voiced her displeasure. Only one year after his marriage, Henry was embroiled with Lady Anne Hastings, the sister of the premier peer of England, Edward Stafford, duke of Buckingham, and a married woman. Henry’s close friend William Compton appears to have acted as a go-between. Buckingham was informed, allegedly by his sister Lady Elizabeth Fitzwalter, of Anne’s affair and he went to investigate. The adultery became a scandal when made public. The Duke was enraged and Lord Hastings sent his wife to a convent 60 miles distant from the court. Both Buckingham and his sister Elizabeth were close friends of Queen Katherine, and it was probably one of them who told the Queen.

This resulted in a stormy confrontation between husband and wife, in which Katherine reproached Henry for his infidelity, and he upbraided her for daring to censure him for it. They both ended up 'very vexed’ with each other, and the whole court knew it. Katherine was pregnant with her second child and it was therefore dangerous for her to suffer emotional trauma. Henry himself could not see what all the fuss was about. In fact, he saw himself as the injured party, Katherine having dared to challenge his right to do as he pleased. He had been discreet, had not intended publicly to humiliate her, and he felt he was being unfairly treated. Henry VIII himself forced to his furious wife to dismiss Lady Elizabeth from her service. Of course, in the end, Katherine capitulated, and faced the fact that it was a wife’s duty to turn a blind eye to her husband’s extramarital affairs, and on the surface the relationship between the royal couple reverted to its former happy state.

Late in 1510, the Queen 'took to her chamber’ at Richmond in readiness for the birth of her baby. Katherine’s labour began on 31 December, and on New Year’s Day 1511, she was at last 'delivered of a Prince, to the great gladness of the realm’. In honour of the occasion, a jubilant Henry VIII ordered beacons to be lit in London and the distribution of free wine to the citizens. Churchmen went in procession through the streets, and in the churches the Te Deum was sung. The child was given his father’s name, Henry.

The little Prince was christened at Richmond before he was a week old, in the presence of the ambassadors to the Pope, France, Spain, and Venice, who afterwards visited and congratulated the Queen. His godparents being the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Surrey, and the Countess of Devon, who was the daughter of Edward IV and the King’s aunt. Henry VIII wore clothes embroidered with the letters H and K entwined on them.

Katherine’s happiness was now complete, for she had done her duty by providing England with an heir, and the King could not do enough to honour or praise her. Messages of congratulation were arriving hourly at the palace, and in the streets, people were chanting, 'Long live Katherine and the noble Henry! Long live the Prince!’ After the birth, Henry went to the shrine of our Lady of Walsingham, the special patron of mothers and babies, to give thanks for his boy, and, on his return, the court moved to Westminster. Katherine had now been churched and had resumed public life; her child had been left at Richmond in the care of nurses. The Queen immersed herself wholeheartedly in the celebrations arranged by Henry VIII in honour of their son’s birth, a fabulous tournament was held at Westminster.

Then tragedy struck, and the festivities were brought to an abrupt halt when the King and Queen were informed that the little prince had died on 22 February at Richmond, fifty-two days after his birth. The chronicler Edward Hall says that Henry, 'like a wise Prince’, was deeply grieved yet still philosophical; his concern was mainly for Katherine, who, 'like a natural woman’, was devastated by the news and 'made much lamentation’. However, her husband comforted her 'wondrous wisely’, and in time she came to accept the death of her baby as the will of God.

The King 'made no great mourning outwardly’, but spent a lavish sum on a funeral for Prince Henry, who was buried in Westminster Abbey, and the daily routine of the court was very quiet for the next two months, during which time Katherine remained mostly in seclusion, regretting no doubt that she had spent so little time with her child during his short life, and also facing up to the fact that England still needed an heir. In September that year she was rumoured to be pregnant again, but nothing more is heard of it, and it may have been a false hope.

Source Unknown

#catherine is the true queen #history

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ginevrafangirl · 7 years

Text

Initialization

Warnings : Torture and Death of an OC

She knocks quietly at the door to a chamber.

"Come in!" says a hoarse voice.

And she does. He is sitting on a cot, bare-chested, healing some wounds. She gasps.

"What happened to you?" she asks, her voice full of concern.

He looks at her for a moment, then answers, "Initialization. To be fully considered as part of the pack, even as the alpha, you need to go through it. And since they are werewolves, it can get… a bit rough at times."

She feels a wave of concern for this man go through her, even though she only met him a few hours ago.

Rodolphus and Bella were flooing to her Uncle's house, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, when something went wrong and they were spit out the wrong grate. The floo network had undergone an unexpected malfunction and all traffic was jammed. The engaged couple had no choice but to wait in the big, dirty mansion till it got up and running. There were anti-apparition wards on it, an indicator that it was inhabited, so they set off to find their unwitting hosts.

The host, it turned out, was a muscular man, with matted hair, rotting, yet sharp teeth, and keen yellow eyes. His nails were covered in grime, and smelled of blood and fleas. Being quite familiar with the smell herself, she immediately warmed to the man who introduced himself as Fenrir Greyback. Bella had heard of the werewolf; he bit his victims early, and manipulated them throughout childhood to hate the government and all civilized society. She didn't care much for civilized society either, finding balls, galas and tea parties a complete waste of time.

After a quick chat, Fenrir had graciously agreed to host them till the Floo network was up and running again. He told them a little more about him, that he lived in here with his pack, and that he had a special experiment underway. Then he'd stopped, like an idea had popped into his head. He said that since they were there, he could unveil it then. He led them to his dungeon where there sat a huge cauldron full of a black, bubbling potion. He then assembled his entire pack, and added the final ingredient before their very eyes, the potion rose and swirled around a black tornado, slowly taking the shape of a man.

That man is currently sitting on a cot in the dungeon with scratch marks all over his torso.

Deciding to be bold, she walks into the room.

"Can I help you with that?" she asks, softly.

Another pause later, he nods. "Thank you."

Taking out her own wand, she mutters a few incantations she remembers from her sisters that heal broken skin and bruises. Andy had always loved learning healing, and even though she thought it was useless, she had obliged to learn a few basic spells. She twists her wand in the shape of a tear of the phoenix, one of the most powerful healers. His chest glows brightly for a few seconds before dimming, looking as good as new. She smiled for a second before gracefully seating herself next to the half-naked man.

"How do you know so much?" she asks.

He quirks an eyebrow. "About?"

She shrugs, "Everything. The way you talked to me at lunch, and the ease with which you use magic isn't something I would expect from a man generated out of a potion four hours ago. Everything. You seem… very well informed. When we talked at lunch, we talked about politics, values, and the future of the Wizarding World. Now, you are very familiar with the inner workings of a werewolf pack. Seeing as you were just generated out of a potion, I am a little surprised at your worldliness. Were books part of the ingredients?"

He laughs, before saying, "Didn't Fenrir tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

He smiles tentatively, saying. "I haven't been completely generated out of a potion. The potion was made from my remains."

Shock. Revulsion. Horror. Those are all things she should be feeling right now. Instead, she is intrigued, asking, "Your remains? So you were…dead?"

"Not entirely. I chose to end my life so I could change myself. But all that has ended is simply my physical appearance. My memory remains untouched… I had some dirty Muggle blood in me, and in my features. That was unacceptable. So, I decided to rearrange myself." he says, his voice still slightly hoarse yet suddenly chilly.

She is surprised to hear of his disdain for Muggles. It is becoming more and more popular to embrace these useless nitwits, and she is glad a few vestiges of sense still remain.

"Interesting," she mutters. She has been against such filth since the beginning, hate and repulsion that was partially filtered down from her parents, partially all her own. She knows she is right, but having someone else share your belief always makes you feel validated.

"Tell me more about you, before." This time her voice is louder.

"Before I became this?" he asked coldly.

She nodded. "I am very interested in finding more out about you. You seem like a very righteous man, and I am curious as to what motivates you, what drives you."

He smiles, and his face looks even more… distorted. It fascinates Bella to no end. When he smiles, his dull skin brightens, in a stark contrast to the rest of his body. A hint of his yellow teeth peek from his lips, and… even a dimple graces his left cheek.

"I lead a simple life. All I want is to purify all magical bloodlines. By any means possible. Too long have we wizards, gifted with such power, downplayed our abilities for Muggles. We do not need them. Not even as slaves, as we have house-elves for that. They have absolutely no purpose other than impeding our lives from embracing our abilities and not being afraid of the Statue of Secrecy. The purer the blood, the stronger the magic." He speaks with confidence, head held high. In that moment, he shines. The dirty dungeon is not a very glamorous place, filled with cobwebs and dust, but in that moment, Bella feels like she is witnessing the birth of a glorious revolution.

Another chill runs through her. This time, it is triggered by the assertiveness of the wizard before her. To have survived death proves he is a remarkably skilled and resilient sorcerer, and his ambition lights a similar desire within her to help him. He had just expressed what she had been feeling for a long time. That fire of conviction she had let go of after her engagement, comes back with a vengeance. She is eager to fight; to fight for what she believes in.

She lets her eyes trace his features. He does not look human. Gleaming scarlet eyes, pale skin, smooth scalp, hints of a long nose, lips that are drained of all colour. No, he is not human. He is a God.

"May I?" his questions shakes her out of her thoughts. He is pointing at a thin black piece of cloth behind her. He wants to get dressed.

Silently she hands him the fabric, which he wears with fluid movements.

"I am pleased to know what you think of me," he says, once dressed.

She is startled. "I did not say a word."

He smiles that inhumane smile again and remarks, "Yet I know you think of me as a God."

Her breath catches in her throat. "I have never met a Legilimens that could break through my barriers." She has been trained since a young age to bar inquisitive idiots from her mind. Her parents warned her how many powerful wizards were skilled Legilimens and desired to bring down the Black family for doing what they believe in. "You must be truly formidable."

"I am., he says with utter certainty. "Your barriers were the strongest I have ever come across. What is your family name?"

"Black. I was Bellatrix Black, daughter of Cygnus Black."

For a split second, she sees a flicker of surprise in his scarlet eyes.

"Black? Well it seems I stumbled upon a member of the purest family of all," he says, sounding interested.

She rushes at the opportunity, eager to please "Our family motto is 'Toujours Pur'. I have a sister who married into the Malfoy family."

"The Malfoys are one of my most loyal supporters. If you were to join me, you would have very useful ties."

She stops for a second. "J-Join you?"

His gaze sharpens. "Yes. Join me. You would be doing your family and yourself a great favor. I would be pleased to have both your husband-to-be and you to join me. We would make a formidable team, bringing vengeance on our enemies and letting nothing stop us from our goal. And when we inevitably win, you will be rewarded most of all for believing early on."

Suddenly, she remembers Rodolphus, having a chat with Fenrir in the lounge. Feeling guilty, she widens the gap between her and the man before her. Rodolphus. Her family wants him for her. And she is already promised to him. She is a woman of honour. She cannot be swayed by annoyingly attractive super wizards.

He seems to sense her change in mood. He inches forward. "You would be…invaluable to me."

She is paralyzed; elated at the thought this man is talking to her in such a suggestive manner. She feels completely drawn in. As he inches closer, her mind draws up justifications for the deed she is about to commit. Who is she? Cattle? She will not be promised to anyone. Her whole life she listened to her family. It is time she does something for herself. Besides, no one expects Rodolphus to be faithful. Why should she?

He keeps moving closer to her till their faces are only inches apart.

"You have already shown your magical skill by healing me," he whispers. "I want to see what else you can do."

She closes her eyes, completely swept away by the charm of the man. At this point, he could ask anything of her, and she would oblige. He however, makes no further move. After realizing that, she opens her eyes again.

"What do you want to me do?"

He licks his lips. "Joining me requires certain… parameters. Mudbloods and filthy Muggles will be eradicated. Show me what you would do to them. Show me how much pain you can bring scum. Can you bring them to their knees? Can you make them beg? Can you torture them to hell and back without any aggressive behavior from them?"

Her heart beats wildly. Her hands are trembling. Her eyes are bright, excited. "Bring me a target, and I will."

He backs away, and pulls up his sleeve. For the first time, she notices a giant red snake tattoo on his forearm, coming out of a skull. She feels incredibly aroused at the thought of being branded like cattle by this dream of a wizard, even though she had just objected to the same treatment from her parents and from Rodolphus. He presses one long pale finger to it and it burns black.

"What is that?" she asks.

"A method of communication between me and my… friends," he answers.

No later than a minute later, Fenrir rushes through the door. "You called?"

The man looks at him and commands, "Bring me your least useful beast."

Fenrir looks uncertain for a second, but the harsh look sent him cowering to find him.

Bella guesses why that command had been so specific. She will kill the beast, and prove herself to be worthy to join the formidable wizard beside her.

"What about Rodolphus? How shall he prove himself?" she asks.

He glances at her, saying. "He doesn't need to. I am convinced a formidable witch such as yourself would have been promised to an equally formidable wizard."

She laughs. "Oh no. My family decided he was a perfect suitor based on his stellar bloodlines, and he is a great wizard, but he comes nowhere close to me. To put it into perspective, the most creative curse he can come up with is Diffindo, because he loves seeing blood spurt from his victims. He can barely hold the Cruciatus for a minute. I have for twenty."

He is barred from replying by the arrival of a pale, thin and undernourished girl.

"I'm Astrid. Fenrir said you asked for me."

Bella turns to face her. "Oh hello, Astrid. Why don't you come in?" her voice is a perfect mix of friendliness and charm.

And she does, slightly timidly. The girl settles herself in a chair as Bella silently locks and wards the door to prevent the noises from going out. She doesn't seem to notice.

"You are really pretty, Astrid," says Bella, standing up from the cot and walking towards her prey, twirling her wand between her fingers.

"Erm…thanks?" she says uncertainly.

Leaning in, just as the wizard had done a small while ago, her voice changes. "That wasn't a compliment." And with that, she slashes her wand across the girls face and makes several deep cuts along her nose, lips and forehead. The gashes start bleeding heavily as she shouts in pain.

"Not so pretty anymore, are you?" mocks Bella. When Astrid doesn't answer, she gets angry and inflicts a few more cuts on her body.

The girl is crying, trying to shield herself with her hands, but it was useless. No one was safe from Bellatrix. Not the girl who had dared to make fun of her at Hogwarts, or the boys who called her names behind her back, and especially not the innocent bystander to any evil thing she planned in public. Do not even get her started on all the Ministry officials that tried to restrain her that one time.

Seemingly getting bored from the blood, Bella dials it up a notch with her specialty, "Crucio!"

The girl starts screaming and writhing, only kept in place by the metal constraints that Bella had conjured.

A manic smile spreads across the face of the dark haired woman as she listens to the screams. Bella feels a rush through her body, an exhilaration that nothing else could provide. She remembers her excitement when her parents taught her the curse. Cissy and Andy had also learnt it with her, but she was the best at it, took the most pleasure. Cissy had done well, Andy had barely passed, but she, she excelled at it. Her favorite time is probably the current moment, but beside that, it would have been the time she accidentally drove a First-Year insane after challenging herself to keep it up as long as possible.

She lifts the curse and turns to the wizard, an eyebrow raised.

He looks at her, his lips stretched in a smile, gleaming eyes. "Finish it."

Her grin broadens. "With pleasure."

She then turns back to her panting victim with a flourish and waits till the girl looks her right in the eye. "Avada Kedavra."

The green light shoots from her wand, hitting the girl who immediately goes limp.

"Well done." She hears him say. Bella faces him again as he continues. "You are truly a find. Worthy of my mission. You shall receive my mark."

She bows her head slightly in gratefulness. "What can I call you?"

"Whatever you like, Bella," he says in that high voice of his.

"Thank you… my Lord."

A twitch of his lips betrays his stoic expression as his lifts his wand and engraves the skull and snake into her skin. "Mordsmordre!"

A/N: I am a reserve for the QLFC on FF and this is my entry for Round 6. The prompt is ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’

#originals #m fanfic #harry potter #AU #Bellatrix Lestrange #Voldemort #Fenrir Greyback #Rodolphus Lestrange #death #torture #Initialization #QLFC

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