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the-modernmary · 3 years

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 6)

Chapter summary: Your weekend at Aaron’s place continues, and he reflects on your relationship and what it all means. The team finds out.

Warnings: morning sex, thigh riding, little bit of dirty talk? allusions to office sex. pretty tame tbh. minors DNI

A/N: Posting these on tumblr is so much fun because I forgot that this is one of my favorite chapters in this whole story. This chapter is pretty long, but it has Hotch’s pov and team shenanigans, and pining!! Thank you all so much for your likes and reblogs and just all of the sweet things everybody has said so far about this story!!! As always, my ask box is always open if anybody wants to talk about this story or CM/hotch in general, or just wants somebody to talk to!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“You call the shots babe

I just wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours”

- Arctic Monkeys, “I Wanna Be Yours”

~~~~~~~

If there was one thing you liked more than sleeping with Aaron, you decided, it was waking up next to him. That was probably in part because it just didn’t happen very often. Most mornings were a frantic rush to get to work or school, and too often Aaron was up, showered, and dressed before you even got out of bed. It worked, though, and you didn’t have to worry about your respective morning routines being thrown off.

It was also the same reason the two of you kept clothes at each other’s places. One of the first times Aaron had spent the night at your apartment, he got called into the BAU early for a case and couldn’t go home to change, which meant he had spent an entire week in some tiny Montana town avoiding the questioning stares of everybody on his team, trying to figure out where he had spent the night.

Or there was the time when you decided to tease Aaron a little too much and he ended up tearing the buttons off your blouse, meaning you had to find a way to style one of his oversized button ups to wear to court. Having a drawer at each other’s places wasn’t some big declaration of feelings or taking things to the next step, it was just being smart and proactive.

And as a bonus, the efficiency of the morning routines plus already having clothes meant plenty of time for morning sex.

Aaron’s arm was draped lazily over your waist, not exactly pulling you in towards him, and keeping you at a distance. But it was comforting all the same knowing that, even in his sleep, he still wanted you. At the beginning of your fling, you had teased Aaron for being a cuddler, and he had just said it was because he liked knowing that you were safe and with him and that it grounded him. It didn’t take much longer for you to realize that Aaron Hotchner was a lot lonelier than he let on.

You could feel Aaron’s breath on the back of your neck as you stretched languidly, every muscle in your body happily sore. It would be so easy to just fall back asleep and let the morning pass both of you by. You had all weekend, and you were sure that you and Aaron would need your rest whenever you could get it. You pulled the covers closer to your frame and curled up even more, savoring the warmth of the bed and letting out a content sigh.

“If you keep stealing the covers,” came Aaron’s raspy mumble, “We’re going to have to start using two separate blankets.”

A small smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you turned around so you could face Aaron. He must have been up for a while if he was already using full sentences, which meant that he had made the somewhat conscious decision to stay in bed with you. Those stupid butterflies from the night before came back in full force. His eyes were still closed, but he had a smug smirk gracing his face as he pulled you closer to him, your legs quickly tangling with his.

Another good thing about waking up next to Aaron was that he looked downright sinful in the mornings, especially when he had just the faintest hint of stubble on his chin like he did then. The lines of his perpetually furrowed brows all but disappeared and his hair was much messier than usual, although you were more than likely the cause of that last night. You could see the faint scratches on his shoulders and bruises on his collarbone, also your doing.

You were sure you had just as many marks on your body, if not more. Aaron was patient and he knew how to read every little reaction you gave him in order to make you a whimpering mess. You probably would have been annoyed at how easily he could read you if it didn’t feel so good.

You let out a soft “humph” as you buried your face into his bare chest, breathing him in. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on making your house an icebox…”

Your words trailed off as Aaron slipped his hand that was on your back under your - his - shirt so that he could run his fingers up and down your spine. He propped his head up on his other hand, finally letting his eyes open to look at you. The sunlight filtering through the window brought out the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes.

“Wanted to make sure you stayed in bed,” he admitted, his eyes shamelessly tracing you up and down and you could feel his growing morning wood pressed against you.

You squeezed your thighs together as you traced small patterns over his bare chest with your fingertips. “By making it too cold for me to even grab a jacket?” you teased.

Aaron just shrugged, still mindlessly rubbing the bare skin of your back. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides…” His hand moved to rest on your waist, his thumb teasing the underside of your breast. “I can think of a few ways to warm up.”

You smirked and lifted your head to bring a kiss up to his neck, leaving a small bruise in its wake. “Oh?” you asked with a lifted eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind going for round two.”

A giggle slipped past your lips as Aaron rolled over, pulling you on top of him so that you were straddling his hips. “By the end of this weekend, we’ll definitely get to round two,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Or round three..” Another kiss. “Maybe four…” Another kiss. “Five if we’re feeling especially ambitious.” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down swiftly.

You smiled into the kisses and you let your fingers run through Aaron’s hair, your nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You could feel his erection pressing against you and you grinded down on him. Aaron rewarded you with one of his delicious moans. His hands slid up your sides and pulled off the shirt you were wearing in one fluid motion, his mouth immediately attaching to your nipple, his tongue moving in circles as his lips pulled and tugged until you cried out his name.

His hands moved back down to grip your hips, slowly rocking your hips back and forth on him. “Aaron,” you breathed out, your senses completely overwhelmed. He was sitting up now and kissing his way up to your neck, determined to leave you with as many marks as possible.

“Do you wanna cum like this?” he practically growled, his scruff brushing against your sensitive skin. “Grinding on my thigh, greedy and desperate? Was three orgasms not enough last night?”

You gripped his shoulders, moving your hips faster now, dizzy with want. “Yes, fuck ,” you moaned, pressing down with as much force as you could muster, only the thin fabric of his pajamas pants keeping you from what you wanted. Nothing would be close enough to him, but you could certainly try. Aaron lifted his thigh and his grip on your hips got tighter, already forming bruises.

Aaron watched you intently as you felt your orgasm build up, his lips parted ever so slightly. He loved to watch you fall apart, loved the power it gave him. And you loved to watch him watch you come apart, because the open-mouth smile he gave you made it look like he worshiped the ground you walked on. You were all too willing to give him a show.

You threw your head back as you panted, desperate for your release. “Please, I’m so close,” you begged, speeding up your hips even more.

He released one hand from your hips and dragged his nails up your body, leaving little pink lines in his wake, until his hand could rest comfortably on your throat. Aaron didn’t put any pressure, but you were wound so tightly that any touch would have set you off.

“Cum for me ,” Aaron demanded, and your body immediately listened

Your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you, but you managed to keep your eyes locked with his, giving him a primal smile, which only made his eyes darken even more with lust. Aaron took the hand on your throat and moved it up to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. It was needy and desperate, maybe even a little clumsy as you lifted off his lap just enough to finally pull his pajama pants down.

You reached your hand down to pump him lazily a few times, your thumb swiping over the tip of his cock teasingly. Part of you wanted to tease Aaron, to see if you could make him whine and beg for you to fuck him. A larger, needier part of you just wanted to ride Aaron so that you could hear more praises from him.

Aaron made that decision for you. “Do you think you’re going to ride me?” he asked condescendingly, as if to say you’re cute if you think you’re in charge.

You continued to stroke Aaron’s erection, twisting your wrist in just the right way to get Aaron to moan for you. “I will if you ask nicely,” you mused, your voice even, but even as you said it, you were already slowly sinking down on his cock, moaning at the feeling of him stretching you. You were still a little sore from last night, but it quickly turned into pleasure.

Before you could fully take all of him into you, Aaron snapped his hips up, hitting you in all the right places. You gasped out, your pussy clenching involuntarily around him.

That just made Aaron smirk and thrust up into you again. “I don’t need to ask to take what’s mine,” he hissed, but his voice was strained, like it was taking all of his energy to keep a steady tone. “And you, my dear, are mine.”

Every word was just encouragement for you to ride him faster, wanting to hear him moan some more. “I’m yours,” you agreed, burying your face in his neck.

He took one of your hands that was clinging onto his shoulder for dear life and guided it down to your clit. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, leaning back just enough so that he could get a good look at you. “I want to watch you.”

You immediately started to circle your swollen clit, and the stimulation was almost too much. Almost. But the look on Aaron’s face as he watched you work yourself over, so full of lust and want, was more than enough encouragement for you.

“Like this?” you asked innocently, and you could feel his dick throb inside you.

Aaron let your name fall from his lips, coming out as a sigh. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned before capturing your lips in a kiss.

It didn’t take long for you to cum again, moaning his name into his lips as your walls fluttered around him. You didn’t dare stop kissing him, though, and you especially didn’t dare stop riding Aaron. You wanted to feel him deeper in you. Your legs were shaking and a thin sheen of sweat covered you, but you wanted him to come apart, lose control.

When he came, he held you in place and pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to watch every little reaction you made. You whimpered as he filled you, his dick twitching inside of you. You were exhausted in the best way and your skin was warm to the touch. The two of you stayed like that for a few appreciative moments, heavy breathing being the only sound in the room.

It really was easy to imagine that this was your life, to pretend that you would be able to wake up next to Aaron and have two orgasms before breakfast as much as you wanted. But reality came back all too harshly in the form of Aaron’s phone ringing. Both of you let out groans of annoyance as you pulled yourself off of him. Aaron technically had weekends off, but he was always on call, which meant no phone call could go unanswered.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his cell.

You chuckled and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “So much for round two, hm?” you teased. “You answer that. I’m going to go shower.” You winced as you climbed out of bed, feeling the soreness spread across your body. You were going to get absolutely wrecked this weekend, and you honestly couldn’t wait. You looked back at Aaron as he answered the phone, and you were surprised to see him staring right at you, looking at you with a softness that nobody had ever looked at you with before. It terrified you.

~~~~~~~

Sometimes, Aaron wondered what Y/N was getting out of this… whatever this was. Companionship, maybe, but he couldn’t imagine she had any problems in that area. She was young, pretty, and charming, and he had seen her turn down a handful of numbers that were thrown her way by men much more suitable for her.

At the very beginning, he thought that maybe she was just trying to get an extra foot in the door of her career. He wondered if she was just overly ambitious and calculating, and used his lust for her to get exactly what she wanted. But that theory was tossed to the side almost as quickly as he thought about it when she had announced proudly that she was doing her project in her Torts class on a case that he had overseen at the beginning of his prosecuting career.

“The other cases were more interesting,” she had told him teasingly, “But it’s going to be so much fun to see your face when I rip your argument to shreds.”

Yeah, she didn’t need him to succeed in her career. She was going to do just fine.

So the only other reason he could think of was that she just genuinely enjoyed his company and wanted to be around him. That would certainly explain why she snuck around with him for almost an entire year, rendezvousing at unpredictable times and keeping their knowledge of each other a secret. It would also explain why she was so willing to let him back into her life as if nothing had changed. She was smart enough to know that Aaron was a changed man and that there would be a lot more baggage this time around, but none of that seemed to bother her.

Although he couldn’t quite figure out why she stuck around, he couldn’t deny that it made him happy. He liked having somebody around who genuinely wanted to spend time with him, instead of just being around because they worked together, like an obligation. Aaron liked to think that he had gotten pretty good at predicting the things she might ask for, and he was more than happy to keep giving them to her if it meant she would stick around for a while longer.

After the phone call that was entirely too long and completely unnecessary, Aaron grabbed some clothes and went to rinse off in the shower quickly. He heard Y/N get out of the shower and start to raid his kitchen minutes before, which he had already planned for. On a whim during his bi-weekly grocery store run, he grabbed a few things for when she inevitably stayed over - caramel syrup for coffee, an extra toothbrush, a pack of hair ties to keep in his bathroom, and a bag of her favorite salt-and-vinegar chips.

Once he got dressed and ready for the day, he walked out into the kitchen, where she was talking on her phone, leaning on the counter and laughing, a cup of iced coffee right next to her. “Yeah, no,” he heard her say. “I think it’s going really well and- I know. I learned my lesson about the melatonin thing.”

At the sound of his footsteps, she turned her head and smiled at Aaron, noticing his presence. She kept her eyes locked with his as she continued her phone conversation. “Hey, I have to go, but I’ll-” she paused, obviously cut off by the person on the other side of the line. A blush spread across her cheeks and she laughed again. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up. I will talk to you later. Goodbye, my love.”

Aaron watched the interaction with curiosity. Every once in awhile, he would catch glimpses of the college student version of her that he rarely saw. She always held herself with such an air of confidence and intelligence around him, and she was so quick-witted that it was easy to forget that she was still just a law student, still finding her way in the world. She seemed to carefully plan the version of herself that she would be in front of Aaron, and even more carefully hid the versions of herself that she didn’t want to be.

It had intrigued him when she was helping with the case, hearing her in a professional setting. He knew she was smart and good at what she did, but seeing it in practice was an entirely different thing.

However, the case also brought another facet of who Y/N was. Hearing her conversations with her friends, listening to her gossip and being more carefree, was different. There was a girlish quality to her that he had never really seen, and it confused him. He wanted to fuck her until she was screaming out his name, crying and begging for him. He wanted to see her smile up at him while she was on her knees. Hell, he even wanted to just lay on the couch and listen to her talk about her classes, let her tell him all about the weird guy who wears a full three-piece suit to class, and share take out with her.

But now, he also wanted to protect her, but he wasn’t quite sure from what. The reality of the profession she was going into? The many corporate men who were bound to just see her as a pretty thing? The world? Himself, maybe?

She slipped the phone into her back pocket, blissfully unaware of the thoughts swirling in Aaron’s brains. “Sorry, that was Aly, my friend,” she explained before he even had a chance to ask.

Aaron gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Aly... That’s the one you lived with in high school after your mom-”

“Yeah,” she cut him off firmly, signifying the end of that conversation. “That’s her. Do you have to go to work?”

Aaron could have sworn he heard the slightest bit of disappointment in her question, and it tugged at his heart, because he had heard that exact question with that exact hidden disappointment too many times.

It was unfair to compare her to Haley, and he knew that. She didn’t want to be his “New Haley” something she had made very clear two years ago. Neither of them expected this to lead to wedding bells, a white picket fence, and a dog, and they weren’t going to make major sacrifices to be with each other, especially in regards to their respective careers. The disappointment was more than likely him projecting.

That didn’t stop the twinge of guilt that threatened to consume him.

“No, I don’t,” he finally said. “Metro PD had a question about some of the files that were sent over about the case, which could and should have been handled by the agents actually working today instead of going straight to me.” Aaron had a hard time hiding the growing annoyance in his words. It wasn’t the officers’ fault they got shit training.

She shot an amused smirk Aaron’s way, bringing her coffee up to her lips. “Aw, that’s cute,” she teased. “Maybe they just wanted answers from the big boss man?”

Aaron scoffed as he made his way towards his Keurig, which was already loaded with his brew of choice and a mug readily placed, no doubt Y/N’s doing. All he needed to do was press a button. She was pretty good at anticipating his wants, too, and even better at knowing what he needed before he even knew.

“Yeah, well, arresting a group of prolific lawyers isn’t going to be anything short of a pain in the ass.”

Once his coffee was poured, he turned back to face Y/N, whose eyes were now unfocused and deep in thought. “Right, yeah,” she murmured, more to herself than to Aaron. “They’re all going to jail…”

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched her mouth to herself. She did that when she was trying to work out a problem, like she was presenting the arguments and counter-arguments to herself. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

Her eyes snapped back up to Aaron, as if she just remembered he was there. “I just- You can’t have a law firm without the partners and I just realized that I don’t have an internship anymore, which I’m going to have to try and explain to my professors because I need those credits to graduate. And I don’t have a job offer either, which means I am back at the bottom.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said, unable to think of anything better to say. Truth be told, he hadn’t considered the collateral damage to the rest of the employees who had no clue what was going on behind closed doors.

She shrugged, but her eyes were still distant. “Oh, it’s fine. I didn’t even want to work in the private sector long term. Prosecutors all work for the government, anyway. The private sector only has the specialized training programs, flexible hours, ability to choose your own clients, and the crazy high salaries…” She trailed off almost dreamily before taking an audible breath.

“Well…” Aaron started, choosing every word carefully. He knew that he was walking a tightrope and that his next offer could very easily come back and bite him in the ass, but it wasn’t the first time Aaron had bent the rules, and it wasn’t going to be his last. “I can’t do much in the way of a job offer, but the FBI does hire interns for our in house legal team. It’s not exactly prosecuting, but it would be closer to your career goals. You would still need to apply, but I know the head of the division and I’m sure we could expedite your application.”

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her coffee cup so tight that Aaron was sure it was going to shatter. “I don’t need to sleep my way to an internship,” she said sharply.

Aaron nodded in agreement. “I know that, and you’re not,” he promised. “This is an offer from the BAU Unit chief as an official thank you from the FBI for your help in the investigation.” Noticing her hesitation, he decided to continue. “My reputation is on the line, too. I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t think you deserved it. You’re top of your class and the head of law review. I can show them the audio files of the work you’ve done this past week at the other internship. It’s still merit based, and you would still have to beat out other candidates, but I would ensure your application gets looked at immediately. Can you get me a copy of your transcript and resume?”

The tension from her shoulders released slightly, but she was still staring at Aaron cautiously, weighing her options. “Yes,” she whispered finally, before repeating it louder and with more confidence. “I can email them to you right now. Thank you, Aaron. Really.”

Aaron smiled down at her. “It’s no problem. The FBI would be lucky to have you. And Y/N…” he added, making a lighthearted attempt at breaking through the tension. “I have a direct line to the director. If you wanted to sleep your way to the top, I would hope you would be more ambitious to shoot for something a little more prestigious than a temporary internship.”

Y/N laughed, her entire demeanor switching back to the more playful version of herself. “So does this mean I don’t get to give you a thank you?” she asked, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth.

Aaron raised his eyebrows and smirked, using one of his fingers to lift her chin up to him. “What did you have in mind?”

She raised herself on her toes just high enough to give him a quick peck on the lips before bouncing away from him. It would be cute if he didn’t see the smug grin that erupted across her face. “I make the best breakfast burritos you’ll ever have,” she told him matter-of-factly, throwing a cheeky smile his way.

Aaron chuckled, ignoring the way his chest tightened. “Do you make a habit of making breakfast for all the people who offer you jobs?”

She clicked her tongue as she rifled through his fridge, pulling out all the ingredients she would need. “Only the ones I really like,” she mused. “And I figure we’re both going to need the nutrition if we’re going to get to those five rounds this weekend that you promised.”

Aaron’s chest tightened even more, and for the first time since he met Y/N, he wondered if he was in way over his head.

~~~~~~~

It had become almost a tradition of sorts in the BAU, guessing why Hotch had his office door closed. It started as nervous chatter - Was somebody after them? Was Strauss making another plan to rip apart the team? - but the team realized that the more ridiculous the guess, the easier it was to wait for an actual answer. So the BAU team, minus Rossi and Hotch, all sat around their desks, only half paying attention to their work as they talked amongst themselves.

This morning, the prevailing theory was that, since Hotch got into work early, he decided to fall back asleep. His office was completely closed off to the rest of the bullpen, even going as far as shutting the blinds. They couldn’t blame him - he probably wasn’t getting much sleep at home being a single dad, and they knew that the brass gave him way more paperwork than one man should ever have to handle. Him taking a quick power nap in his offer was, in their eyes, completely deserved.

Which is why they were surprised when a familiar figure emerged from his office, shaking his hand quickly before making her way towards the glass doors, combing her fingers through her hair.

“Why was Y/N Y/L/N talking to Hotch?” Reid asked, sitting up slightly in his chair.

Garcia, who was sitting on the edge of Morgan’s desk, had a confused look on her face. “Who?” she asked, pouting only slightly. She didn’t like to be out of the loop.

Emily repeated the name back to her. “She’s the one who helped us on that hitman case, but I thought we closed that two weeks ago?”

Garcia’s confusion only increased. “If she’s talking to Hotch, does that mean it’s not closed? Why wouldn’t he tell all of us?”

Morgan shrugged, watching Y/N as she made her way across the bullpen. “I guess we’ll find out now, won’t we?” Morgan waved her over, and if she was surprised by it, she hid it well.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ greeted, and the younger woman waved at the group. “It’s good to see you again. Is everything okay? You were in there for a while.”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, a small blush rising onto her cheeks. “Yeah, everything’s great! That internship was required for me to be able to graduate this year, and since I helped with the investigation, the FBI was kind enough to offer me an intern position here. Unfortunately, the legal team director got swept up in meetings this morning, so Agent Hotchner went over the intake paperwork with me,” she explained, almost too casually. The words rolled off her tongue like they had been rehearsed.

“Well then, congrats and welcome to the FBI,” Emily said. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find us.”

“I am always looking for a lunch buddy,” Garcia interjected, “Especially when the rest of them are off on a case. Oh, and you should come out to drinks with us one night!”

Y/N chuckled and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Thank you, that sounds like fun. Oh, Dr. Reid, maybe I can take you up on that offer of a tour?” Spencer nodded, a little shocked that she had remembered that conversation. “Well, I should head down to the 3rd floor. Don’t want to be late on my first day. I’ll see you all around though.”

The team watched Y/N walk out the glass doors to the elevator, and as soon as she was out of earshot, the girls erupted in a fit of giggles.

Morgan and Reid shared a look of confusion. “Okay, Babygirl,” Morgan groaned. “What was that about? Inviting her out with us? You just met her.”

That only served to make Garcia laugh harder. “Some profiler you are,” she teased, before turning her attention back to Emily and JJ. “Okay, don’t worry, I will not do any sort of unethical digging, just normal social media snooping. I promise.” With that, Garcia made her way quickly back to her Bat Cave, an extra pep in her step.

Morgan shot the remaining two girls a questioning look. “Why is she snooping on some random intern?” he pressed.

Emily chuckled in disbelief. “Seriously? You couldn’t see it?”

“See what?” Morgan asked, frustration evident in his voice.

JJ looked back up at Hotch’s office, a knowing smile on her face. “Because that random intern, who, remember, spent an entire interrogation flirting with Hotch, just left his office with smudged lipstick and a missing button on her shirt.”

Recognition flashed in Morgan’s eyes as he chuckled to himself, tapping his fingers on his desk. “Huh. Who knew Hotch still had it in him? My man, good for him.”

Reid looked at the rest of the profilers, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Wait, what happened?” he asked, still unable to put the pieces together. “Did I miss something?”

Morgan smirked and ruffled Reid’s hair. “We’ll explain it later, Pretty Boy. I promise.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #my best habit #my writing #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia

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speechlessxx · 4 years

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Bring Him Light - x (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The truth finally comes out.

Warnings: brief mention of sex, mentions of death, really shitty writing tbh, dialogue driven. (NOTE: when concerning the flashbacks, he’s actually explaining to the reader what happened)

Word Count: 2.5k

Note: Feel free to send me any questions because I know this is a really crappy chapter. (of course, I’m not going to reveal the rest of the plot)

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

You could still taste the salt from the sea on your lips. The memories of what happened aboard that ship still fresh like a wound that you’d carry forever. You stared at your hands that were conjoined with your husband’s. The wedding bands glistened in the dimmed room.

“Will you believe me if I told you everything?” Steven asked. His thumb drew soothing circles on the back of your hand. His grip tight as if he were afraid you’d disappear again.

“Everyone’s lied to me.” You whispered. You looked towards Wanda’s body, still covered with the bloodstained tarp. “What would make you any different?”

“This is the truth,” he promised. “The complete truth.”

When Steven was young, his mother doted on him because he was a sickly child. He grew up to have her compassion, optimism, and idealism. He was sixteen when his father unexpectedly died, and he was hailed King of Brooken. He wanted to carry his mother’s ideals into a new age for Brooken, but he underestimated what it meant to have a crown on his head.

The sacrifices he’d have to make, the betrayals he’d have to face, the blood he’d have to spill. He’s told more lies that he could count – all in the name of protecting his reputation and his power. A cruel king is respected after all. The lies were like storm clouds that poured hard. He drowned in them and got lost in the darkness those clouds brought. The lies burdened him more than anyone would ever know.

You squeezed hand, breaking him away from his thoughts. “Steve?” Your tone was soft, coaxing him back into reality. He welcomed the calm you brought. It eased the storm inside of him. You were ready for the truth – perhaps, you’ve always been ready. “Unburden yourself, my love.”

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, honestly. It was true. There was so much to the story. He wasn’t quite sure where it began.

“Start with Margaret, perhaps?” You suggested.

“I was young,” he began. “Twenty-one years old. Five years on the throne. They told me I needed a wife.”

“They?”

“Pierce and the old council.” He answered. “Brock’s father had just died, so he took the vacant seat. At first, I thought having my cousin on the council would alleviate the tension. The lords on the council were nearly twice my age, if not more. They saw things differently than I did. They wanted different things. Sometimes I felt as if I were their puppet. I was young when I took the throne. Sixteen. I didn’t know what to expect, so I leaned on their counsel. I depended on them,” he scoffed, remembering his earlier years on the throne. “They told me I needed to continue the line succession. Thanos was beginning to make a name for himself by this time. He had lovers and spawned two daughters. His line was growing, and the Rogers’s wasn’t. So, I asked them to find me a match. Pierce brought in Lady Margaret of House Carter. I was smitten when I first laid eyes on her.”

Steven sat tall upon his throne. The room was empty. Brooken had a tradition that detailed that those in royal betrothals must meet for the first time in private. He was giddy with excitement. Lady Margaret’s portraits were presented to him a month ago. She was easily one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. Lord Pierce made the arrangements and they were to marry within a week. “House Carter is a respected house in the Old World,” Pierce advertised.

The doors opened wide and a young woman walked through. Her hair was dark as night. Her lips painted a bright red. She smiled at him and bowed. “Your grace,” she greeted. “I am humbled to make your acquaintance and, of course, honored to be your betrothed.”

“I didn’t know her, truly. I didn’t realize how manipulative she was from the beginning. She charmed and enchanted me to do her bidding. We were married for nearly a decade. No children. She didn’t want children. I didn’t want to lose her, so I agreed.

“She had many faces. A face she’d show the people that made them love her. A face she showed me that hypnotized me. And the face she’d show my allies, which were her foes. She fought with James incessantly – even tried to make me banish him. I refused. He was my oldest friend. I promised the moment I took the throne, my riches, my blessings were his to share. She was trying to isolate me. She banished my allies from court. James warned me she was a devil. I refused to listen. I thought her a gift from the gods themselves. Until I caught her poisoning my mother.”

“What?” You gasped.

Steven nodded. The haunting memory pained him still.

He woke up alone after a long night of making love to his queen. It was early in the morning; the sun had barely risen. Orange streaks painted the sky. He searched for Margaret, wanting to jest her for allowing him to wake up alone. He found her whispering to his sick, elderly mother who was bedridden due to a broke hip.

“You won’t get away with it. My son will find out,” his mother croaked.

“Not from you,” Margaret gave her a wicked smile as she slathered arsenic-riddled paint on his mother’s toast. The thick substance looked like jam, but Steve knew better. She force-fed the queen mother the poisoned bread.

“What are you doing!” Steve boomed into the room, pushing his wife aside as his mother choked. “Guards! Get a physician!”

“She died later that evening.” Steven shook his head. It was your turn to console him. You released one of your hands from his grip and rubbed his arm. He took a shaky breath. “I stabbed Margaret in the heart in front of Rumlow, Pierce, James, and Sam’s father. I didn’t know, yet, that her betrayals were much deeper than the murdering my mother.”

“Enter Sharon?” You asked.

“I was widowed for a year. Pierce brought her in. The younger cousin of Margaret.” He continued. “Married two days after her arrival in Brooken.” He chuckled humorlessly at his naivete. “I should’ve never marry a stranger.”

“We married in two weeks.” You noted. “We were practically strangers, too.”

Steven shook his head in disagreement. He didn’t feel that way. In the two weeks he grew to know you, he learned the innerworkings of your mind, your soul. He knew he was in love with you, truly, even before he wrapped the cloak around your shoulders during the wedding ceremony.

“We weren’t strangers.” He said. “Far from it. Sharon was distant. Defiant. We never consummated our marriage, not that anyone would know. She refused to sleep in my chambers, refused to be held, or anything, really. It felt as if I had married a ghost that everyone could see. I couldn’t touch her, but she still haunted these halls.”

“You beheaded her.” You said. Steven bit his lip as he nodded. “Pierce said you beheaded her out of spite.”

Steven cocked his head to the side, brows raising, as if he entertained the idea. “Well, she was spiteful.”

“The men in the prisons… They preferred her over you and you imprisoned them, correct?”

Steven sighed. He was disappointed that you were so quick to believe rumors and lies about him, but he blamed himself for not being completely honest from the start. “Sharon plotted a coup on behalf of the Mad King.”

“How can you be certain?” You asked.

“She admitted it when she was caught.”

Steven stared down at the blonde. Her eyes wide as he finished reading her encrypted letter. “You’re not subtle. You’re not discreet.” He spat at her, crumpling the paper and throwing it at her feet. “You work for the Mad King. You’re here to topple me. Rip the crown from my head and give it to him. The game’s over, Sharon. You’ve lost. Your followers all caught and imprisoned. I will get a confession and you will die for treason.”

She recomposed herself, rolling back her shoulders with confidence. “You think you can just kill off another queen? What will people think of you, Steven.”

“I am pulling the weeds from my kingdom.” He snapped. “You Carters are all the same. Traitors. Liars.”

“Margaret was good.” Sharon complimented. “She had you wrapped around her finger for a decade. If she hadn’t been caught killing your mother, then she would’ve convinced you to ally yourself with Thanos.” She turned her head to the side and gave him a smirk. “Then, she would’ve killed you along with your mother. Such a shame, she was caught.”

“You admit. You’re a traitor.”

“Of course, I admit it. But mind you, your grace, your enemies are all over Brooken. You cut me down today, someone else will cut you down tomorrow.”

“I beheaded her for treason.”

“You didn’t tell people that your queens were committed treason. You allowed rumors to spread about your cruelty to your wives.” You frowned.

“As I told you before, a cruel king is respected.” Steven muttered. “But I never wanted you to be afraid of me.”

“Isn’t it odd?” You asked. “Both queens chosen by Pierce were traitors.”

Steven nodded. “They pushed me to get married once more, but I told them, this time I’ll choose my bride.”

“Me.”

“It’s three years after the War between the North. Tony and I were close before. I fought alongside your father when York was invaded ages ago.”

“You fought over a disagreement over land.”

“More than land. He wanted James dead. James’s father killed your grandfather. Since James’s father had died long before, your father asked for my friend’s head. I refused. So, a war erupted.”

“You traded blows with my father on the battlefield.” You recalled. You remembered your mother’s cries and pleads with the gods, asking for them to protect your father’s life. “He returned to my mother bloodied. You cut through his armor. But you looked him in the eyes and called the war off.”

“No one won.”

“No one.” You agreed. “Three years later, you ask my father for a wife.”

“I needed a wife I could trust. Although we had our differences, I trust your father with my life. I know Tony’s blood. I know how you would’ve been raised to be loyal. You took after your father and your mother.” Steven explained. “I didn’t trust Pierce to find me a wife that could slit my throat in the night.”

“You trust me?” You asked.

“The moment I stared into your eyes and saw fear… I knew you knew the rumors. I knew you thought of me as cruel – our first encounter made that clear.” He smiled at you softly. His fingers lightly traced the scars of your wrist. He brought your wrist to his lips and pressed a light kiss onto the skin. “But, truthfully, my trust in you waned when I saw you with Brock and Pierce leaving the dungeon. I began to think you were conspiring with them.”

“I – I – I wasn’t.”

“I know that now.” He said. “I realized you were afraid of disappointing me because you didn’t … you weren’t –“

“Pregnant.” Your voice wavered, immediately brought back to the painful memory of losing your baby alone on the boat. “I should’ve told you I was, though. But I was afraid. I thought you were going to kill me. You struck me.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” Steven shook his head. No amount of apologizes could ever make up to the faded scar on your cheek.

“I was afraid for my life and the child’s. They manipulated me because of my fears. They prayed upon it and convinced me to trust them. And I did. In turn, I – I lost my best friend and my baby.”

Steve pulled you to him. Your head rested in the junction between his neck and shoulder as you cried softly into him. He rubbed your arm, comfortingly.

“They tried to turn you against me.” Steven whispered. “They tried to weaken me by trying to kill you on that boat. I thank the gods that you’re safe now.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” You muttered.

Steven nodded and kissed the top of your head. His arm around you tightened a bit. “You should sleep. Get some rest. You need it after what you’ve endured.”

You agreed. Steven untangled himself from you before he leaned down to press a kiss to the scar on your cheek and a kiss on your lips. He began to walk away when you felt panic begin to settle. Your hand shot out and grabbed onto his arm, preventing him from taking another step.

“Please stay.” You begged. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”

He gave you a soft smile and nodded. You scooted over the cot to make room for your husband. The positioning was a bit awkward considering his massive build, but you immediately felt safer once his arms wrapped around you once again.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

You woke up alone in Steven’s bedchamber. The sun had already set, the full moon up in the sky. The pain had subsided after nearly a day of rest. The truth settling in inside your mind.

At least now you knew everything.

The doors opened suddenly to reveal your husband. He smiled at you as you sat up on the bed. “You’re awake.”

“You left me alone.”

Steven’s smile faltered. He couldn’t register if there was sadness in your voice or not as he walked over. “I – I hadn’t meant to upset you.”

You shook your head. “I understand. You’re a king. Your duty is to the people, not to me.”

“I am your husband, first.” Steve argued. “My duty will always be to you, my love.” He took your hand in his and helped you off the bed. “Come. There’s something I must show you.”

He led you to the balcony doors, opening it and allowing the air rush into the room. You breathed it in. The mixed scents from the gardens below overtook your senses, washing out the pained sea salt smell that still haunted you.

Steven guided you out onto the terrace and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of him. You gasped as you looked up to the sky. Along with the bright moon and the stars were lanterns that floated into the air and painted the dark sky.

“For years, I stumbled alone in the darkness. Feigned love with false queens who sought to destroy me. And here you are. The true gift the gods bestowed upon me. I truly believe you were crafted to be my soulmate, (Y/N).” He murmured in your ear. “I wish I could take away the pain you’ve endured, but I cannot. I can only tell you whatever comes next, we will face it together as husband and wife.” Tears swelled in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks as you stared up into the bright sky. “I love you, my light, my love.”

You smiled and turned to him, cupping his bearded cheeks in your hands. “I love you, Steve.”

#bring him light #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #marvel au #marvel royalty #royalty au #medieval au #avengers medieval

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good-forthe-weekend · 3 years

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Okay, so like, this blog has low key become an ACOTAR theory/headcanon blog. But here we go again. Because I’ve been thinking about the remaining books/novella, and what might be obvious about what the next book may be. So stick with me on this one, but here’s how I hope it plays out. (Gonna be really long, because 3 books worth of theories, so gonna make it a read more post)

Let’s start with what I’d like the books to be (not in a demanding bitchy way, just what I generally hope for)

Books 5 and 6 (in no particular order): Azriel, Elain/Lucien

Novella: Feyre’s pregnancy from her/Rhys’ perspective

While books 5 and 6 could be in any order, depending on the overarching plot with Koschei and everything, I really think the next book is going to be about Az. I know that the 2 main contenders for obvious choices are Az and Elain, but I don’t think their stories are meant to be told together. Their arcs are completely different. Az needs to be someone’s first choice and get over 500 years of darkness and self hatred, whereas Elain needs to find her own agency. Here’s how I’d do those things.

Az’s story, to me, is rooted in self worth. I don’t think he has much. I think that the events of his life have done everything to convince him that no matter how much good he does, no matter how many people love him, he will never be good enough. Similar to Nesta, tbh. Just rooted in different places. His family loathed him, Mor’s been stringing him along for 500 years, and most people value him for what his shadow singer abilities can do for them. I think his story should revolve around him finding self worth, and being his own first choice, but also realizing how inherently valuable he is to everyone around him. (If we get a brothers bonding moment in Az’s book, I will cry my eyes out in the best way) Now *personally*, as a lover of Gwyn, I would love to see her tie into Az’s story. (NOTE: No hate for any shippers, Gwynriel, Elriel, Elucien, idc. They’re all valid, this is a respect only zone. This is simply my personal opinion on what *I* would like to see) Gwyn has also been shown to need some help in the self worth category. She literally says how she believes she’s a bad person for not being able to save her twin. So I’d love if her and Az have parallel stories in Az’s book. Romance or not. Actually, I’d love to see them grow side by side without having to be all horny all the time. I’d love if Gwyn prioritizes her mental health and growth above having a relationship, and tells Az that she cares for/loves him, but needs time to herself before getting into a relationship. Mates wise, I do see the merit in the Gwynriel mates theories. (I’ll get into why I don’t like Elain as Az’s mate later. But also, I have no problem with Elriel, I just don’t like the idea of them being meant to be mated. Although I have this evil!Elain idea brewing in my head that would fit with Elriel being supposed to be mates that the cauldron effed up) but I also am on the fence about it, because even with my own headcanon about ACOTAR mates, I’m still getting a little tired of every single romance having to be mated.

For Elain, I have 2 theories that I favor. Either she gets kidnapped by Koschei, and her story is a loose retelling of Swan Lake, or she ends up going to the Spring Court, and we get Beauty and The Beast part 2, but different this time. Either way, I want her story to give her some damn agency and flesh out her character as more than the Cosette character whose whole personality is “Well, I went through a trauma and stayed kind”. Because there’s a way to do that meaningfully, but since it’s been coupled with her being a character that simply does not do anything for herself, it falls flat for me.

Also, side note about Elriel being mates who the cauldron messed up. I don’t care for that. First of all, I don’t think that the cauldron picked Nesta and Elain’s mates when they were Made. Which I mention in my personal theory on ACOTAR Mates, which I linked above. I think that the Cauldron picks mates when you’re born, which would mean that Elain and Lucien were always meant to be mates. Besides which, while I’m not a rabid supporter of either ship at this point, I see what people are saying about it not being a good thing that Az’s shadows disappear when Elain is around. His shadows are a part of him, they’re his friends. So I think it’s better for them to respond well to someone’s presence than disappear entirely. Also, with the light singer theories (which I see on both Gwynriel and Elriel sides), in ACOSF, it’s said that light singers weren’t good. They were beings that looked kind but ultimately were evil, just like shadow singers look all bad, but ultimately Az is an extremely kind, empathetic person with a savior complex. So, unless you want to make your fave be secretly evil (which, again fits in with this evil!Elain theory I’ve been stewing on lately) it’s probably not a good idea to say they’re ‘the light singer to Az’s shadowsinger’. ALSO ALSO. Azriel deserves to be someone’s first choice. Not their 3rd, behind the guy that the universe destined them for AND the human that they still aren’t entirely over. Azriel isn’t a ‘well, since there’s no one else to choose, I GUESS’. Azriel is someone who deserves, and should be loved as a first choice. And no matter if that person is Gwyn or not, we should see someone fall for him as a first and only choice.

Anyway, if she got kidnapped by Koschei, I’d like for everyone to freak out and be trying to save her (Lucien included, because protective fae mate), but Elain ends up saving her damn self. Without anyone knowing until she just sort of shows up somewhere in Prythian. Whereupon everyone is like “You escaped Koschei?????”, and Elain just responds “What, like it’s hard?”. I don’t have too many specifics in mind for this theory, but yeah, I’d love if that were to happen. I can even see a path for Elain and Lucien to fall for each other in that scenario, I just can’t find a way to verbalize it.

Alternatively, and hear me out on this one, I would love for her to go to the Spring Court. SJM keeps putting connections between Elain and Spring, and has even had several characters say she’d love the Spring Court. She doesn’t belong in the Night Court. And I would love, and again hear me out here, for her to help Tamlin. I know, I’m not his biggest fan either. But I don’t want him dying alone and angry either. He was an ass, and reacted poorly to many things, but I want him to grow from that. And learn how to be a better person. And not be so overprotective. How does Elain fit into this? Well, I’m not sure how to get her there, but I would love for her to end up in Spring Court, where she befriends him. Friends. Nothing more. Not a drop more. In fact, I want Tamlin to make an advance on her, thinking that he’s falling for her, only for Elain to be like “Dude, you only think you like me because I’m the one who’s been helping you, but we’re friends. We wouldn’t work as more.” Or even vice-versa. Either way, I would LOVE to have a story about a character coming into their own without a big romance, and frankly after the way Elain has treated Lucien and Az, she can stay alone (as much as I think her and Lucien would be cute together). But I also think that Elain befriending Tamlin, and eventually becoming a member of his court, could lead to some nice healing places for Feyre, and would afford her the opportunity to actually confront Tamlin about everything they went through. (It would also be cool if Tamlin made her High Lady of Spring, without them being together. Idk, I think it would be cool for him to abandon tradition so much when he held it up to a toxic level before)

‘But how does Lucien come into this?’ I hear literally no one asking because this post is so fucking long already. Well, beloved reader of this bullshit, I simply want him to officially be able to move on. I want him and Elain to have arcs that happen at the same time, and are tied loosely together, but are ultimately separate. I want Elain to find agency and finally make up her mind, and I want Lucien to call her out on stringing him along. And I ultimately want him to find peace. (And for him to find out he’s Helion’s son in the messiest way possible, but I digress) I really just want Lucien to ride off into the metaphorical sunset and be happy and content and finally value himself. If Elain is in the Spring Court, maybe call out Tamlin for the way that he abused Lucien too. As long as he ends up happy, I’m cool with it.

Also, I want a comeuppance for Mor/Eris. They’ve been hinting at something for several books now, and I damn well want to see what’s behind those hints. (I also low key want the Eris/Mor comeuppance to cause a confrontation between Az/Mor/Cass about their weird dynamic and how toxic it was, and how it kinda made Mor treat Nesta like shit. I just really want Cass to officially choose Nesta in front of the IC, esp Mor. I think it’s important for their relationship. I could go on and on about that tho.)

Personally, I kind of want Mor and Eris to have been Mates. Not only because I already ship Mor/Emerie and want to see a mated pair that don’t end up together, but I think there’s a ton of opportunity for angst there. Maybe they fell for each other, never actually let the mating bond fully set (because, up until this point we’ve never seen a mating bond click into place without sex, which we know they never had), and Mor realized that no matter how much she cared for Eris, she was in fact gay, and so she slept with Cass, and you know the rest of her story there. Eris didn’t care, and told his father that he would marry her anyway because they were in love (I don’t think he’d play his full hand and admit to being un-mated mates because it would put Mor in a whole new level of danger). Beron basically told Eris that under no circumstances would he marry Mor, and told him to abandon her completely. With a threat to Mor’s safety thrown in there for good measure (like “Go ahead, marry her. See exactly what will befall her her in the Autumn Court. It will not go well” except more eloquent and shit) When Mor’s family dumped her, I don’t think that he found her first with people with him. I think he would have found her shortly after she got left, and he’d have been alone. So he found a way to tip off Az that she was there, and staged it to look like he found her and semi-publicly abandoned her completely. Idk, I just feel like there’s a lot more to the story than we know, and given how extremely Mor responds to someone who never actually laid hands on her, I think there’s more to why she does that. Maybe it’s because she knows he’s her mate, and is terrified he’s going to get spiteful and let that info slip. I kind of want this to be a situation to be one where she didn’t outright lie about what happened, just the context, because she knew if the context was revealed, then she’d be forced to come out, so she lied by omission.

Personally, I would love for this to be a not insignificant piece of Az’s book, because I think there’s a not insignificant part of his personality that’s been influenced by Mor, so whatever comeuppance that Cass/Az/Mor have (and I’m praying they do), I hope it’s not just glossed over. I also wouldn’t hate if this story was told in the novella, but I also really want to see Feyre and Rhys’ side of their pregnancy story (I think it would be weird to have such a significant plot for them told during someone else’s story, and not give us Feyre and Rhys’ perspective). And that would really only fit in either a novella or bonus short story. Also, I think that Feyre’s pregnancy would make a better novella, and Mor/Eris would fold nicely into the plot of a book.

So yeah, there’s my ridiculously long rundown on what I want to happen/my theories for the rest of the ACOTAR series. Feel free to add/dissect/interact/tell me I’m horridly wrong. I wanna talk about these books at length so bad

#acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #feyre archeron #rhys #cassian #azriel #mor #eris #lucien #vanserra #beron #emerie #gwyn #nesta #elain #tamlin #theory #headcanon

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hvnc · 3 years

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( nadia hilker / cis woc ) HANA FISCHER is 24 years old and is a POST GRAD at thales university. SHE is majoring in MODERN LANGUAGES and is known for being THE ENIGMATIC as SHE can be CALCULATING and TALENTED as well as PHLEGMATIC and BRUTAL. every time i see her, she reminds me of SUNGLASSES WORN INDOORS, NAIL POLISH TO MATCH A MOOD, THE SOUND OF METRONOME. ( chels / 33 / she ; her / cst )

CRIES it has been a minute since i’ve done the intro thing, but here goes...

trigger warnings: drowning/death ; drugs i’m sure ; violence probably, car accident/death yes.

basic stats and fun stuff ;;

name: hana fischer-capone. [ the engimatic ]

age: 24.

major: modern languages.

sign: taurus.

mbti: infj

religion: catholic. [ yeah i know...it might seem like bs but she does take it seriously only if the topic is touched, despite her ungodly antics ] i never said she wasn’t a walking contradiction to herself simply because her mood convinces her something is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.

sexual orientation: bisexual. strong female preference.

romantic orientation: demi/aromantic spectrum.

hogwarts house: slytherin. [ with hufflepuff tendencies ]

favorite song: bittersweet symphony.

clubs: debate vp . clubs ‘unknown’. [ past riot club member ]

sports: equestrian league ; on-court tennis ; ballet/dance.

fun extra ‘habits’: roller derby, poker, illegal street racing.

family: wolfe fischer [ drug & audi imports. alive ] ; nicola capone [ artist. alive ] ; otto fischer-capone [ deceased age 2 ]

steven: family friends/acquaintances from a young age.

growing up ;;

hana was born in berlin germany on april 28th, and was raised there solidly until the age of ten. summer & holiday vacations were spent between a few family homes, residing in annecy, amalfi, bruges.

languages in the home included german, italian and french. she did not learn english until traveling abroad began at the age of ten.

she was an only child for the first three years of her life, and then her little brother otto was born. he died at the age of two by drowning in the small child’s pool in the yard. hana witnessed this. she remembers this event and does not speak about it or the circumstances surrounding it. [ feel free to ask me though i’d be more than happy to explain if your muse is interested in insight/knowledge about this; ie friend connections she might have confided to. ]

from that point on, as an only child, hana was spoiled in mostly gentle ways. she had everything she needed and wanted, was pampered by her mother and prized by her father. she hated both of those things and fought tirelessly for her own freedom to the point where, when she’s around her parents it’s hard to tell if she’s the parent or if they are. when hana is home she seemingly runs the house, in a sense...she does so as she has been groomed from an early age to take over ‘family-work’. the good thing in this sense of being in control is that hana turned out just and responsible, rarely abusing her pull over her family or her voice over her family.

at the age of twelve wolfe and nicola moved with hana stateside and settled in portland, maine, where her father worked with every string he could pull that would earn him the right to the capone family name he had married into. despite nicola wishing for a quiet and peaceful family home, the property of hana’s maine home harbored tunnels and a boat house that allowed wolfe to make problems disappear quietly and often with his young daughter well in ‘the know’. this granted him a massive network of connections with justified fear in his presence. and for hana...a sense of legacy she has yet to decide upon. some days it means freedom and power, other days...it means a chain around her neck and clipped wings. nicola keeps her cheek turned in the other direction and devoted her time doting on their only daughter. but with such work came intense isolation. though hana’s childhood property was as equipped to entertain her as a private summer camp might, she was often left to her own devices while enjoying artful and elite activities. this led her to pick up a habit of fleeing or calling her own shots, forming her own antics, such as bringing home her father’s rival colleague’s sons when her bed craved company. the more security cameras on the property caught, the better.

she reveled the summers spent flying back to germany, home to the culture she missed. she would spend her time on the waters of annecy or listlessly trailing her fingertips through cherry wine poolside in italy, but eventually, as all things with hana, the glass would be tipped to shatter on the marble and she would once again flee for the sake of herself; delving into the cultures she found herself immersed in frequently in the surrounding areas.

university bound ;;

she attended Gisela Gymnasium as a child in Munich before moving to the US solidly. she was privately tutored at home through her travels.

for the duration of her high school education, hana attended Choate Rosemary Hall.

she was invited to oxford and princeton. hana adamantly refused invitation to anything her father pushed for, ie yale. her mother pushed her towards juilliard but that too was shunned by hana. oxford invitation would have sent her out of the states and away from her family. pursuing her love for modern languages, hana chose to accept a year at oxford, in order to advance her studies in english, and then she was princeton-bound.

when she then transferred to state-side to princeton. she completed her sophomore year, but havoc within Princeton’s Riot Society that hana was a member of, resulted in her quiet transfer.

redacted information ;;

the summer before sophomore year hana drove her audi off of a princeton bridge as a final challenge to gain entrance into the riot club. the passenger and fellow running-mate with her was killed. due to the society’s influence and connections it was written off as an accident due to brake failure. hana became a member after that night and was one of 3 voted into ruling member status six months later for the upcoming year. she sometimes suffers from light sensitivity as a result of her head hitting her window.

as a ruling member, and as a challenge to underclassman wishing to join the following year, hana gifted the nominations with trinkets packed with cocaine without their knowledge. as a show of their trust in her and the society hana asked they keep these trinkets on themselves at all times. she then prompted a drug search on the university and those who did not follow her one room by keeping the trinket on their persons, rooms were searched and they were eliminated from the society process with academic consequences. for those who did as she asked and carried the drugs, her sniffed out but ignored by the canines. this was to show the reach and power of the society and to prove what the society was capable of protecting their members from.

connection ideas ;;

dealing: hana is not a big user herself, IF ever, it would be rare that she uses, however, naturally that is because she likes cleanly passing product to those who know she carries and receives shipments through her family. she’s not the type to pass all over campus and at parties, it’s more elite and private than that. she will always have cocaine within her grasp, ritalin, adderall to pass off quickly and quietly. she will not look at someone fondly if asked for drugs she considers trash like heroine or meth or cannabis. she won’t knock anyone for it, it’s none of her business nor does she care, but she might simply pretend she didn’t hear or see them at all. think of her as the cool big sister in this department i guess or a bad influence, both probably.??

spoiled, rich, elitist…and cultured?: hana was raised very cultured to western europe so if your bb frequented places such as germany, italy, france, austria or switzerland, on holidays, long summer months spent on yachts or in vineyards, museums and the like, they may know her that way. so connections with long-time friends thick with spoiled elitist trash summers…is basically her aesthetic. if someone speaks other languages she’ll likely want private conversations that soothe the ‘homesick’ feeling. she’s majoring modern languages and also just native german herself.

from around: hana is one of those people in the lives of those she knows, who is just always around, not in hovering sense ever she is far to reclusive in her own rights for that, but…that girl they met when their parents shipped them off, that girl they met again years later and remembered, in a sense of consistency, there and then gone, but always sort of …there.

family friends: her dad is a rich piece of shit tbh working organized crime, her mother is an angel that’s just too sweet for someone a little salty like hana to stomach for long, so maybe family parties were held and they met that way, maybe they both hated the parties and had no one else to talk to but each other, and hated that more, or maybe it became almost a sibling relationship and banter happens, as well as,…hana having someone to call first when she’s gone and done something her father would be proud of them both, while her mother sinks into the family’s catholic church to pray over both of their sorry asses. (crimes likely for this connection: basic street crimes, drugs, interrogation if it comes down to a problematic person needing to be dealt with, basic mayhem on a whim.)

confidant: likely the first person hana goes to if there is ever a problem she is having, even for just a talk or advice as a friend, no big deal mostly, but this person is likely someone she looks up to greatly as a mentor over her, someone who’s more the first to know things about her, truths about her, and the on-goings in her life.

know your worth: all in all she might not be impressed with someone. she knows what she wants and where she’s going, this can be a negative connection where she just does not see them belonging anywhere near her, but that doesn’t mean that can’t develop into something else. bc it should!! this could be a connection where she’s more likely to push someone to the brink or challenge someone harder if they need a push, negative or positive. either she’s amused by someone’s failures because they’re proving her right, or she really does want to see someone succeed.

these are just ‘themed starting points’, seriously hmu with ‘familial, rival, platonic, ex, etc’ and i will run with it.

a little about me CHELS ;;

i’m a capricorn

and a slytherin...

honestly this might say enough, whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing..i’m not sure tbh.

#pyrrhic.intro #i'm sorry this is long #cries #replying to starters first thing in the AM

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vivimarius · 5 years

Text

Frostbite

Eirwen does not have a baby. Until she does.

Pairings: none

Word count: 899

Warnings: Child abuse (mostly in the form of neglect), pregnancy, referring to a child as “it” and “thing,” kidnapping (changeling switch), harm to minors, brief thoughts of child murder

Notes: The fic absolutely no one asked for and no one wanted. LOAFT verse by @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors. This is exploring Eirwen’s thought process behind having a child and switching him out for a different baby. There’s no father because Magic and Fae Are Different, and tbh I don’t see Eirwen particularly tolerating anyone else’s input in regards to a kid. We don’t know what Logan looked like as a newborn since he was glamoured to look like Thomas and then grew into those looks, so I took a slight liberty. I think the warnings make it sound worse than it is, personally, but I wanted to tag for anything that might adversely affect a reader. Please be safe!

Anyone will say that there is effort in bearing a child.

For Eirwen, it involved a ritual that took two years to complete. And then it happened overnight.

She woke with an impressive baby bump that she had seen on human women. It was hard, cold, and smooth as she ran a hand over it, a thrill of pride and possession running through her.

The trouble with fae birth is that it’s as different and as individual as fae are. Eirwen could carry this child for two days. She could carry the child for ten years.

Of course, what she wanted was for it to be born on the solstice. She was wild and powerful; her child should be as well. Having it born on a magic day would be even better. But as winter faded and the Court prepared to turn--honestly, the worst time of the year, by far--Eirwen was not terribly expectant of the birth. She quietly whispered to it, “You better hold on until Autumn,” and felt like it heard her.

She should have known better.

It was the equinox, the very day that signaled spring was here, when Eirwen had the child. She was alone when it happened, thankfully. And when she saw it, she hissed.

A Spring.

Two years. Two years of work, just to bring another Seelie to the court?

The child was pale, though not as white as her. Its green hair stood every which way like unmowed grass. It was small and unmoving, though still breathing. Eirwen ought to kill it right here.

It was not impossible for a fae child to die so close to their birth. It could easily disappear. She could get away with it.

But she still wanted a child.

Eirwen looked around her home for a place to put it while she decided what to do. Eventually she settled for putting it on the ground at the foot of her bed. Then she went out.

It took her a few days, mostly because the Serpent King didn’t want fae around the humans anymore, but finally Eirwen found what she was looking for: the human with the newborn. Wickhills was small enough that only a few people were pregnant at the same time, and she had just come upon her one stroke of luck. Eirwen interrogated some of the fae familiar with this human, who said that the baby was just seven days old.

Perfect.

Eirwen returned home, where the child lay exactly where she had left it. It had not moved, had not opened its eyes at all. She picked it up, wrinkling her nose as she touched the child. She supposed it would need a name, something she could call it once it had been raised by the humans to reclaim it. Eirwen looked down and saw everything she wanted and nothing she had.

“Leith,” she said, and the name settled on it like a mantle. It was this small, pathetic little thing--a raindrop where she deserved to raise a glacier.

Well, the new baby would actually be a credit to her. He would be a proper Winter.

It was only two nights later where Eirwen slipped into the yard. An early morning feeding had just been completed, and the human mother had gone to sleep after the baby. The window to the nursery was open, and it was barely a thought to get inside. In the cradle, the baby was sleeping. He looked soft, almost ethereal, his heavy breaths the only sound in the room. Eirwen took a long, deep look at the baby was about to be hers. A quick gesture of her hand and a glamour is cast on the thing in her arms to look like this baby in the cradle.

She switches the children, heaving a deep sigh of relief to have her son in her arms. Without a second glance, Eirwen turns her back on it and slips back into the forest.

Dot slept later than she had in--goodness, months. It was so strange that she was disoriented for a minute when she woke and saw dazzling sunlight. She looked at the baby monitor, but it was silent. Almost too silent.

She knew she was being ridiculous, but she still shot up and hurried to Thomas’s room. Dot sighed with relief to see the baby in the crib. She quickly walked up and picked up her son, then paused. “Well, that’s no good,” she muttered.

The baby in her arms fussed and waved his angry little fists. He looked so much like her Thomas, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t, but he was.

Dot rocked him gently, and he calmed quickly. His eyes, closed for so long, opened, revealing beautiful silver. Very much not Thomas.

“Larry,” she called down the hall, “We have a bit of a situation, dear.”

Eirwen stalked away from the house, absolutely furious. How dare that woman! Keep both the children! What was she supposed to do, show up to the court childless? Everyone would laugh at her! She was bested by a human!

No, no. This would never, ever go. No. Never.

She would tell everyone that the child was stolen from her. It was deep treachery, and they bound her power, somehow--refused to give her what she deserved. Yes, Eirwen could twist this. And in the end, she would still reclaim what was hers.

#love and other fairytales #laoft #vivi writes #my fics #frostbite #ts sanders sides

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annes-andromeda · 5 years

Text

GOT Virtues AU: The Young Wolf and The Little Queen

N/: Finally, new chapter! This time with Robb and Margaery! I ship them so much, you don’t even know. The show would’ve ended a long time ago if they were married, tbh😅 Also, Robb being a broken mess for your viewing pleasure.

The King who lost the North is what they called him. Robb Stark, The Young Wolf. King of the North.

No. He wasn’t a king. And he wasn’t a wolf. Anymore, that is. A king would not sit idly by and watch his wife and mother be murdered before his eyes. A wolf would not be struck down by a mere arrow. A wolf would not be defeated by a lion.

Tywin Lannister had orchestrated the Red Wedding along with Walder Frey. He killed Talisa and his mother, but cruelly let Robb live. With Roose Bolton betraying him, and his banner-men killed, Robb was at the Lannisters mercy. He was stripped of any honor he had left, and to be put on display for all of King’s Landing to see.

Once arriving, all the people came to see the Young Wolf, with no crown and no glory. They yelled slurs at him, and some even threw mud at his face. But Robb didn’t fight back. There was no point. These people didn’t know what happened behind closed doors. They didn’t know how Ned Stark was beheaded on false charges, or how Joffrey Baratheon wasn’t a real Baratheon. They simply believed whatever came out of the councils mouths.

He remembered how all the people at court watched him: a king now turned into a mere boy. His head hung low, but he felt Joffrey’s pompous smirk look down upon him. He could feel Cersei looking at him with the same stupid smile that Joffrey, and maybe even Tywin, bore.

There was no point in fighting. Not anymore. The Boltons were now the Lords of Winterfell, and the Northerners must’ve felt shame when they heard that Robb had fallen. Robb had been put in a cell, and the Lannisters must’ve been feasting at his defeat. He imagined Joffrey at his wedding, wielding a sword and chopping Robb’s head off. Joffrey would probably then serve it to poor, sweet Sansa and laugh as she cried tears of sorrow.

Robb would sit in the cell, eyes staring blankly at the Wall. Ever since they’d put him there, he wouldn’t say a single word. And when the day of Joffrey’s wedding came, they put a collar around Robb’s neck. Gods, he looked like a dog. They downgraded him and humiliated him. Chained and defiled him.

But Robb didn’t fight back.

He took the abuse, he felt that it was necessary. After all, he had failed in his attempts to achieve northern independence.

The wedding was well planned, if he was being honest. Everyone had come dressed at their finest. Probably wanted to show their wealth, all while Robb was dressed in dirty clothes full of mud and shit.

When they brought him out, Robb could hear the people whispering. And then they clapped when the dwarfs came into the scene. They made Robb a dummy in their act, the dwarfs hitting him with clubs while everyone, including Joffrey, laughed.

When he dropped down, Robb turned to see Sansa looking at him, her brows furrowed and her eyes held deep pain. Her eyes looked like their mothers, and her hair was redder than before. He moved his gaze to the Lannisters, who looked at him with smirks on their faces. Joffrey was laughing. Of course this was funny to him.

And then Robb stopped. His eyes met the eyes of the Queen.

Margaery Tyrell.

He remembered when he was younger and his father would go to Highgarden on meetings. He sit in the gardens with her Jon, and Theon and they’d all pick flowers from the bushes. All the order young girls would call her “pig-face”. But he never understood why. She was a pretty young lass, but now.

Oh gods, was she beautiful. He hair fell onto her shoulders so delicately, her skin looked so pure and smooth, and her eyes were focused on him. Solely him. For a moment, he felt at ease. The laughter of the people died down in his ears, and just looking at Margaery made him feel a calmness he never thought he could feel again. To see someone he knew, a friend, after so many years.

But his peace was cut short when one of the dwarfs pulled at the chain on his neck, yanking him off the floor. He was put on his feet, and pushed to the side. Joffrey was busy being against his uncle, Tyrion, until Margaery cut in to announce the pie. The last thing Robb remembered before he ran through the streets of Kings Landing, was King Joffrey take a sip of his wine and clutch his throat.

The Kingsguard chased Robb, before grabbing one of the horses and riding to the one place he deemed safe for now: Highgarden.

——————————————————————————————————————————

The guards asked for Robb’s name and his reason for coming to Highgarden. He told them his name, and that’s all they needed to know. He had been riding for a couple of days, and he was surprised that the Kingsguard hadn’t been sent to seek him out.

Now, he sat in one of the vacant rooms in the castle. His body was slumped on the edge of the bed. Throughout these past few days, he said nothing. He barely ate, or barely slept. He didn’t want to do anything. He just wanted everything to drown out. To disappear.

He heard a knock on the door, but didn’t say anything. It opened, and a guard came inside saying “Lord Stark. Lady Margaery is here to see you”

Robb then turned his head, looking at Margaery, who stared at him with a gentle smile. The guard left the room, and the two were alone in silence.

She walked towards him, and sat on the chair in front of him.

“I see you took refuge in Highgarden” Margaery said, her voice soft and low

But Robb said nothing. He looked at her, not saying a word

Margaery sighed “I heard what happened to you and your family. You shouldn’t blame yourself, it wasn’t your fault”

“Yes it was” Robb finally said. His voice was lower than hers “If I never beheaded Lord Karstark, I wouldn’t have lost the war. If I had just married one of Walder Frey’s daughters, the Red Wedding would’ve never happened”

Margaery took his hand and caressed it with her thumb

“I just wanted to marry for love. I just wanted to go home and be with my family”

“Robb, what’s done is done. You can’t change what you did. You chose to marry your wife, and you chose to behead Lord Karstark-”

“-But I chose wrong” Robb interrupted “I made impulsive decisions, and I paid for it”

Margaery stared at the man in front of her. Robb was always a boy to never give up, to stand up when the time was right. And here he was: completely hopeless and broken. His blue eyes that held a spark of hope, now stared at the floor with emptiness and despair.

Margaery got up from her seat and kneeled in front of Robb, holding his hands tightly “Robb I want you to listen to me, loud and clear. Yes, you made impulsive decisions. Yes, breaking your promise to Walder Frey and beheading Lord Karstark were not wise resolves. But sometimes, we have to make wrong choices so that we learn and better ourselves. It’s in our nature”

But Robb simply pulled away from her, not wanting to listen to her judgement. She followed him suite, and grabbed his hand “You may not want to listen to me, but you have to. If you want to survive this world and return home, let me help you”

“Why bother” Robb said, tugging away from her “I’m sure you’d have a more pleasant time preparing to be Queen instead of helping the enemy”

Margaery simply sighed and pulled Robb into her arms, tightly holding him “Robb, you are my most dearest friend, you know that. Please allow me to aid you so you can return home”

“But I can’t. Winterfell is taken over by the Boltons” Robb said. His head was on Margaery’s shoulder

“Then at least let me return you to the North” Margaery whispered

Robb thought for a moment, embracing the sweet, delicate smell of the woman hugging him. She smelled of roses, and cinnamon. While returning to Winterfell may be a challenge, the North knows no King but the King in the North whose name is Stark. Robb sighed softly, and for the first time in months, he smiled contently.

“Alright”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Margaery sat on the edge of the bed. Night streamed across the Realm, and the chirping of crickets could be heard alongside the crackling of the fire. She turned to see Robb in a deep sleep. Poor boy must’ve have restless nights after what had happened to him, and now he slept in a bed instead of inside a cell.

The Little Queen smiled fondly. She crawled up on the bed next to Robb, careful not to wake him. Margaery examined him closely: he had grown to be very handsome, she admitted. His sun-kissed hair had formed soft curls, and she gently ran her fingers in them.

She wouldn’t say it, never to a living soul, but she was fond of Robb when she was a young girl. In a more than friends sort of way. He had a trait that made him simply irresistible in the eyes of women. And she had fallen head-over-heals for him.

But that was then, and this is now. Now, she had other priorities. As much as it pained her, Robb would not bring her the Seven Kingdoms. He had no interest in the Iron Throne.

He would make a good king,Margaery thought, An honorable man, he is

Her fingers threaded in his locks, gently retrieving soft curls. Margaery wished she could see his eyes. Those eyes of moon-glow that held such beauty, no flower nor star could ever compare.

She sighed deeply. What would it feel like to see those eyes every day? And to be held to those strong, bold arms?

No, she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Margaery felt herself leaning closer. No, no, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t what she wanted. He’d never give her Westeros, never in a million years. She didn’t stop, his breath tickling her nose.

What could the wolf give her that the stag could never? What sort of contentment could Robb Stark bring her that Tommen Baratheon could not?

She froze. Her lips were so close to his. He was still asleep, thank the Gods. If he saw her like this, open and vulnerable, what would he say? The future Queen shouldn’t be seen with another man that wasn’t the King.

Margaery didn’t close the gap. Instead, she moved upwards and kissed Robb on the forehead. She got up from the bed, and out the room to her own chambers. She shouldn’t have done that. That fondness for him, it was years ago. It was merely forgotten about, nothing but the ignorant love of a child. And she was to be wed, so it was clearly wrong.

All these thoughts ran through Margaery’s head, that she thankfully didn’t notice Robb’s smile once she left. Otherwise, it wouldn’t feel so wrong.

But oh, so right.

#game of thrones #my writing #virtues au #robb stark #margaery tyrell #robbaery #robb x margaery

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heynaomi · 6 years

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truth & reassurance.

PAIRING: chris herrison & naomi abram TIME FRAME: the day after the event at trx WARNINGS: N/A probably just several typos tbh

SUMMARY: naomi decides to come clean about every aspect of her life to chris.

@chrisherrison

Naomi wasn’t sure what she was feeling. All she knew for a fact what that what she was feeling now differed drastically from what she’d felt the last several weeks. how had everything turned on it’s head? Naomi thought her and Chris were okay. That, sure, the talk itself had been rough but they would be okay. However, after getting word that Chris and Natalia had been together, she was second guessing. She needed clarity, which is precisely why she found herself at his doorstep, knocking gently as she suddenly felt the nerves return all at once.

One night. One night had managed to turn everything around. It hadn’t even been a couple of hours in between; between Chris getting the confirmation about the mob he’d been searching for, between running into Natalia again. He could still feel his hands shaking now as he reached for the bottle—an action that was stopped short when he heard the knock on his door. With a huff he turned away from his drink and towards the noise. A soft smile greeted Naomi on the other side. “Hey.” His eyes narrowed in confusion. Sure, they said they’d talk later… he just hadn’t connected that later meant tonight. “Everything okay?”

Naomi looked up as soon as the door swung open. No matter how down Naomi was feeling, the imagine of Christopher Herrison never failed to bring a smile to her lips. Even now, it was no exception. She took a deep breath, tucking some hair behind her ear before she nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course.” She replied gently. “I was just...hoping we could talk. About last night,” Naomi clarified, hoping that he wouldn’t hear just how nervous she really was.

“Yeah, of course.” Maybe it was the topic of conversation Chris knew was coming, maybe it was his job—or hers but Chris found himself looking over Naomi’s shoulder once he’d stepped aside to let her in. To make sure she wasn’t being followed, to make sure she was safe. His smile, though slightly smaller than the one she was usually met with, considering their circumstances, didn’t disappear off his lips when he turned to her again. “Would you like something to drink?”

Naomi’s feet carried her inside as Chris stepped aside, turning around to look up at him as she heard his offer. She shook her head slowly, moving towards the kitchen and setting her purse down on the counter. It was then that she made her way slowly to the couch, taking a seat on the edge of it and placing a hand on the space next to her. “I just um,” Naomi exhaled slowly, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. “I don’t know where to start.” The blonde breathed out, pushing her hair from her face.

Without even thinking about it, without fearing what was going to come next Chris placed his hand over Naomi’s when he took a seat at her side. There was a part of him that wanted to know it all, the part that had spent most of a year trying to figure it all out—but it was a part that was silenced now, over shinning it was his worry for Naomi. If telling him put her in any danger… well, then he didn’t have to know. “Naomi.” Her name was whispered through his lips. “We don’t have to. I meant what I said. Telling me or not- I still trust you.”

Naomi opened her eyes to look at him intently, shaking her head slowly. “No, it’s not about feeling like I have to. Chris, I want to. I don’t want to hide anything from you. I want to be completely transparent because — god, I want to make this work more than anything.” Naomi breathed out, an almost sad smile coming across her lips. “If you want, you can just ask what you want to know and I’ll tell you. Otherwise I can just — I can start at the beginning.”

There was nothing that could take Chris’ attention away from Naomi in this moment. His eyes had been fixed on her since she’d entered the room, since he realized just how nervous she was about telling him the truth. Quietly, Chris nodded, urging her to go on. “The beginning seems like a good idea.”

Naomi nodded her head slowly, swallowing hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that was forming in her throat. It was fine. It would all be fine. She told herself this over and over until she finally got the courage to speak up. “My dad used to be a criminal defense attorney when Blake came along. My dad represented him once in court and after that, he felt this sort of... responsibility for the mob. He won, so that helped. My dad ultimately took more and more cases from him until Blake finally took him in. It didn’t take long for my dad to become the consigliere, basically the second to Blake and legal advisor. The one to keep the mob out of trouble,” Naomi began slowly, her eyes moving to Chris’ face where her eyes scanned between both of his eyes. “I never knew anything about it until my junior year of college. I came home and my dad — he was worried someone was after him. That he might get hurt. So, he told me everything. He told me he didn’t want anything to happen to me and not know the truth. I grew up with these people, but I had no idea what they did. I guess because of it most people would say I’m blind but,” Naomi gave him a small shrug, “that’s my family.”

Chris let out a breath the second Naomi started explaining, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. But there was no way he’d be able to prepare himself for her next words. For any of it really. His eyes were on hers, her lips, watching how her body reacted to her explanation. “Junior year?” His eyebrows furrowed in response. “Is that … is that what happened to your dad? Someone got him?” Chris let out another breath, it wasn’t hard to imagine what she’d say next. Why she was so involved with the mob now…. They were all Naomi had left. His grip on her hand tightened before the next question left his lips. “So, you took over your dads spot?”

“Yeah,” Naomi breathed out, keeping her voice soft because she was afraid that otherwise it would break. Her father was always a sensitive topic, no matter how much time passed. He’d been the most important person in her life, being without him had been the most difficult thing she’s ever had to do. Naomi held his hand tightly, nodding slowly at his question. “I was already studying law, when I found out I wanted to get involved. Blake, Viv, and everyone else were already family. It wasn’t really up for discussion. My dad taught me as much as he could before he passed away.”

“Blake.” The name left his lips without explanation. It was one of the guesses when it came to who was in charge. But with little evidence that was all they were, guesses. Just from watching them together, from Vivian’s warning the other night—Chris knew the two were close, family, but he’d never imagined the mob was part of what kept them together. That Blake was part of that bond too. He blinked a few times, his mind trying to process it all. Though there was something his mind couldn’t get past. This job, the one Naomi had taken over, it’d been what put her father in danger… he’d be a fool to think it wouldn’t put Naomi in it as well. “If you were given a choice, would you have walked away?”

Naomi gave him a small nod as she heard Blake’s name leave his lips. This had been everything Chris had taunted Naomi with before they got together — and then some. She took a deep breath, which ultimately she was glad she took because what Chris said next made her freeze. She wouldn’t. It was a no brainer. However, she knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. At all. She blinked several times, her heart feeling as if it were about to beat out of her chest. “No.” She wouldn’t lie to him. She’d promised.

Chris wasn’t in denial here. He didn’t have this made up fantasy that everything was currently okay. A police officer and a mobster. No, nothing would be easy, nothing would be *okay*. His gaze moved away from her with her response, not because he hadn’t seen it coming, but because it scared him half to death. How sure she was about all of this—all of *them*. He bit the inside of his bottom lip, his eyes still not meeting hers while he tried to come up with what to say next. What he *could* say. “Yeah. I figured that.” He sighed. “Naomi, these people… the things they do …”

Naomi’s heart sank to her stomach as he looked away from her. She couldn’t say she hadn’t expected it. Her own gaze dropped to her lap and she blinked several times. She wouldn’t cry. Not this time. The blonde shook her head a little at his words, letting out a breath. “They’re family, Chris. They’re *my* family. They are all I have left.” She explained slowly. Every family was a little dysfunctional...right?

Chris’ eyes met hers again. In this moment there was nothing he feared more than saying the wrong thing, than hearing the wrong thing. He could understand a messy family, hell, he was proof of a messy family but *this*, this was different. He’d been researching the mob for years now—he knew all too well what some of them were capable of. “They’re not all good though, are they?” The question, half rhetorical, half challenging. Chris knew Naomi wasn’t going to lie to him, she’d said she wouldn’t and he trusted that, but there was an underlining question beneath his—one even *he* was afraid of.

Naomi could only stare at him when she heard his question. She didn’t know what he wanted her to say. Admit how awful the things they did were? “Chris,” Naomi breathed out, almost sadly with a small shake of her head. “You and I both already know the answer to that. Don’t make me say it.” The blonde pleaded desperately, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

She wasn’t lying, Chris could appreciate that, though that didn’t make digesting all of this any easier. He wanted to reach out to her, wrap Naomi in his arms and just forget this conversations— forget the confirmation. But nothing was that easy, and nothing would be for them. The sadness in her eyes made Chris want to kick himself, he was the cause, his question was what put it there. “I need to know *you’re* good, Naomi. I need to know I’m not making a fool of myself for trusting you.”

Naomi looked away from him for a moment and closed her eyes. She guessed that she couldn’t blame him for wanting jay confirmation that she was good. That she wouldn’t hurt him. He’d been hurt before. Naomi wouldn’t dare to do it again. She turned to him once again, looking up at him intently. “I’m good, Chris. I swear to you. I.. I do these things but you know me. You know my heart. It hasn’t been a front. I like you — my god, I like you so much. I wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t know what to say to make you believe me when I say it, but I would never dare to do anything to hurt you.” Naomi breathed out, her words sincere as ever. She hoped her words would be enough, but she didn’t really know if they were or not. “If it’s too much I understand. I won’t be upset,” naomi let out in a whisper. After all, she’d been in relationships where people walked away because they didn’t want to get involved, not that she could blame them. Naomi swiped her fingers under her eyes as she could feel the back of them pinch, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know what more to say so you believe me. I just need you to trust me. I would never tell you all of this if I wasn’t serious about it.” He was a cop, after all, he basically had the confession he needed not only to lock her up, but to lock all of them up. “I want everything with you.” She let out in a whisper.

All Chris could do was stare back at Naomi, his eyes fixed on her like he was stuck in some sort of trance. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to believe her— he already trusted her— but letting her in was proving to be much more difficult. *I do these things* Chris took a deep breath then. One long enough to fully let her words sink in. He could only imagine what *these things* meant, he wouldn’t ask, but he’d be lying if he said his mind instantly didn’t go to the worst case scenario. He thought about Nat then, about how he felt when she’d left, the extremes he’d gone to numb it out— then, as if it slow motion, memories of the incident came back to him, memories of where he’d been and what he’d lied about doing after. Another breath left his lips. He couldn’t judge her, he had no right to. Chris could pull out the badge and claim to be a good person all he wanted... that didn’t make it true. Naomi was still Naomi. Still the one he reached for every morning despite if she’d spent the night or not, the one that had helped chis out of his darkness whether she knew it or not, the one that light up the room— everyone’s room. Chris wasn’t going to hesitate anymore, he couldn’t hide behind a wall built by his past. She was losing more here than he was. She was risking more. His hands were cupping her face not a moment after the realization kicked in, a soft “I believe you.” Slipped from his lips.

Naomi stared at him as her heart felt as though at any given moment it was going to beat out of her chest. She was scared. He could walk away from this all now. Walk away from her. She wouldn’t blame him. She’d practically gave him the option to do so. So the silence was deafening. Seconds felt like hours as she waited for him to say something, anything. As soon as his hands moved to her face, though, her hands immediately moved to rest on his wrists. As she looked up at him, her features softened immediately. She let out a small sigh of relief at his words, shaking her head as much as she could in disbelief that they would be okay. They would make this work. There was still one doubt in Naomi’s mind, though. “Are you sure about this? I... Someone saw you and Natalia last night,” Naomi whispered the last bit, not being strong enough to face the possibility of any kind of rekindling between the two. Her eyes searched his desperately for even the smallest response to *her* name.

How was it that they couldn’t even get through one problem before another arose. He’d almost let himself forget he’d run into Natalia that night ... or that she’d come back to town at all— it was just easier that way. Easier to ignore the problem than deal with it. Chris frowned at the question, a hand fell from Naomi’s face but the other remained to draw circles with his thumb. What was he meant to say? What was she asking? Chris wasn’t sure, so instead he just nodded. There was no point in hiding what had happened. “I ran into her a while after I saw you. Someone spilled their drink in her—“ he shrugged. “— we didn’t talk for long.”

Naomi listened to him intently as he spoke, nodding slowly in understanding at his response. She trusted him. She trusted him blindly. Even if blind trust was what had gotten her into trouble with her ex fiancé, she knew Chris was different. He was a good man. She knew that much wholeheartedly. The blonde took a breath, tilting her head to lean into his hand as it rested on her face. “Right,” Naomi breathed out gently, nodding as much as she could. “I ran into her, must have been before that. I didn’t even know it was her.” She uttered out, almost lamely since she truly didn’t know *what* to say when it came to Natalia.

Chris’ eyes left Naomi for a few seconds, his gaze on the entryway to his kitchen— where just a few steps in would lead to the fresh bottle of the first thing he’d managed to grab, untouched with a glass at its side. That must be a clear representation of how he was taking the run-in. How he was taking all of this. Still, he couldn’t help but notice it had nothing to do with Naomi, that Naomi had in fact stopped him from taking that drink. The thought scared him. How much he already cared for her scared him, only because he was fully aware of just how bad things could end. “I don’t blame you. She looks different.” The answer slipped from his lips as his eyes landed on Naomi again. He was quiet as he looked at her, as he thought about her last unanswered question. “I’m sure about this.”

Naomi nodded her head slowly at his words, her eyes scanning quickly between both of his. She gave him a small nod, the smallest of smiles coming across her lips. She moved her free hand to the side of his face and leaned in to press a kiss against his cheek. Naomi let her lips linger against his skin momentarily before she pulled back. Her smile shifted into one that reflected sadness and she looked down for a moment. “There’s one more thing I should tell you about. My ex fiancé.” She’d told him as much as she could without giving him the full story, which in reality, wasn’t very much at all. “Mason. We met and he said he was new to Treeville. He was from another mob in California, so it didn’t take long for me to introduce him to ours after we started dating. Blake took him in, since the experience was there. He eventually proposed to me and I-I said yes. It was about a month before the wedding, I came home to an empty apartment and a note. Basically,” Naomi took a deep breath, shaking her head at it all, “he wasn’t who he said he was. One of the mobs sent him, as a spy, I guess. The name was fake, everything between us was fake.” The words were bitter on Naomi’s lips and honestly, she was just disappointed she’d let it happen. That she could be so blind. She then lifted her gaze to look up at him, giving him a small shrug. “Now you’re all caught up.”

Chris’s back straightened at the sight of Naomi like this, of Naomi hurt. His eyes watched her with as much intensity as he could manage, the hand on her face dropping down to grab her free one. He wanted to provide some kind of comfort, any kind of comfort really. He wanted her to be okay. He was fighting all kinds of emotions as he watched her. He worried for her, was angry at this Mason person, and just wanted to fix it all, go back and make sure none of it happened. This wasn’t fair. Chris knew what it felt like to be left, but this? This was on another level— he’d lied to her, made her fall for him and left. The idea of someone being capable of that had Chris’ ears go hot. “I’m sorry, love. You don’t deserve that.” He reached down to place a quick kiss on her palm. His sad smile mimicking the one Naomi was wearing. He’d fix this for her, he’d find this guy and he’d fix this for Naomi.

Naomi shook her head slowly as he apologized. Chris knew heartbreak and Naomi did too, maybe that was why they were so good for each other now. Naomi closed the space between them until she was sitting right next to him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her hand moved to his chest where she gripped the fabric of his shirt, exhaling g slowly against his skin. “It’s okay,” she breathed out. And it really was. “I get to be with you now and I wouldn’t have it any other way, Chris.”

Instinctively Chris’ arms moved to wrapping around Naomi, pulling her in until she was sitting on his lap, until they were as close as possible. His arms moved to circle around her, holding her close while she did the same. He let out a sigh of relief. For a moment hopeful that would be the hardest conversation they’d ever have to have. “Who would have thought- Naomi, a sweet talker.” There was a smile on his lips for a moment before he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. A soft, “we’re here now” was almost inaudible when it left his lips.

#(convos; chris)#(para)#(para; chris)

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lostinthewinterwood · 4 years

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Fandom 5k 2020

Showing up over a week late to the party.

Hey friend! So. Uh. About that letter…

Well, if you’re already on your way, that’s great! Feel free to ignore this letter completely. It is, after all, quite late. If, however, you are like me and haven’t started yet, and you’re wanting a little something more for inspiration, here’s… something, at least. Most of this is in my signup, but there’s a bit extra here.

Good luck!

General DNW

Rape/non/dub-con; non-canonical major character death; heavy angst; hurt no comfort; graphic depictions of deliberate and methodical self-harm*; graphic depictions of suicide; anything E rated; smut; gore; heavy gender dysphoria; grimdark; complete downer endings; character bashing; incest; cringe comedy; a/b/o; mpreg; unrequested full setting AUs (canon-divergence is fine); graphic eye trauma; graphic and/or permanent hand trauma (unless the setting can provide a more-or-less fully functional prosthetic or equivalent); issuefic; unrequested identity headcanons; a focus on unrequested romantic relationships.

*I don’t include things like, say, punching a wall in a fit of emotion under this. however, something like cutting would not be appreciated.

General Likes

– I really like plotty fics

– Secret identity and disguise shenanigans, the more layers to them and more absurdity the better.

– Crossdressing for whatever reason and gender disguises, also for whatever reason.

– Time travel and time loops are always fun, especially as a fix-it. I have a general preference for Peggy Sue style (aka, an older character getting put back in their younger body at an earlier point in the timeline) over the character’s physical body stepping back in time, but either one is good.

– A focus on family and/or friendship, especially characters realizing they’re not nearly as alone as they think they are, and just generally characters who like each other and enjoy spending time together

– Found family; families of choice

– Character studies

– Worldbuilding

Fandom-Specific Things

Original Works

Adolescent Supervillain with a Secret Identity & Adolescent Superhero with a Secret Identity

Child Superhero & Their Concerned Supervillain Nemesis

Male Student Mage Disguised as a Girl & His Older Female Mentor

Priestess Of A Dying Sun & Goddess Of Endless Night

Prophesied Hero & Prophesied Dark Lord

Prince/Prince of Enemy Country He’s Met on the Battlefield More Than Once

- Action/Adventure

- Character Development

- Interpersonal Drama

- Science Fiction

- Fantasy

- Hurt/Comfort

- Worldbuilding

Fandom-specific DNW: neopronouns, random pronoun changes within a PoV (changing because of disguise purposes is fine, great even; I have a lot of trouble with characters who go by multiple pronouns within one PoV basically at random)

Superheroes—for the kids with the secret identities, do they know each other as their civilian selves? As their cape selves? Both? Do they like each other, dislike each other, is this a rivalry thing… with stories that have this dynamic, I always end up spending half my time cackling internally and the other half of the time going children no when they’re friends as civilians and enemies in masks, but honestly I’d be here for any dynamic they could have. For the child hero and concerned nemesis, I absolutely adore the dynamic of the kid going “I’m here to defeat you!” and the villain being like “…okay I may be a criminal and a villain but you are a literal child what are you doing where are your parents,” and it going from there.

Student Mage & Mentor—ngl this is at least 85% inspired by all the “girl disguises herself as boy to become warrior” books I read as a kid, and I always wanted a gender-flipped version—so tell me! Why is he disguised as a girl? Does his mentor know? If she does, is she actively helping him, or begrudgingly accepting, or something else? Anything around this would be great, and ruse/identity reveals are always delicious if you want something more specific as a prompt.

Priestess & Goddess—I really like the idea of this; it has a very melancholic feel to it, like the end of an age, and I would love worldbuilding this place that allows this relationship, or a dual character study, or, of course, both.

Prophesied Hero & Dark Lord—I love explorations of fate and prophecy, especially in regards to people who are supposedly destined for roles they may or may not want—do the hero and dark lord know each other before the prophecy kicks off? How do they feel about their respective roles, and about each other? Is this a story where you can break from your role, or can you not fight fate? Are you destined to fulfil the prophecy, even if you try to defy it? I have no opinions on the gender of these characters—ignore the gender implications of the tag if you want to.

Prince/Prince—I’m picturing something with delicious snarky banter between the two princes. I’d love to see something with, like, a grudging mutual respect turning into something where they like each other and then they go and fall in love and go “oh… well, fuck,” and have to sort it out from there.

The Dragon Prince

Aaravos

Claudia

Soren

- Character Development

- Worldbuilding

- Fantasy

- Fix-it fic

Fandom-specific DNW: Aaravos/Viren, at all.

This show is wonderful and heartbreaking and I adore it.

Claudia, Soren—I love them and am somewhat heartbroken over their choices this past season; I’d love any sort of character study focusing on them or their relationship to each other (and their dad, though I’d rather Viren not take the spotlight in any fic you write). After the show or during it, or something pre-canon—all of those are great. I’d definitely be down for things exploring the fallout of season three and the choices they made there, especially at the end.

Aaravos—I’m fascinated even as I somewhat dislike him. For him, I’d love to see something pre-canon—why did he get locked up in that mirror? What was the world like, when that happened? He’s our narrator at the beginning—what’s up with that? If you want to keep it more canon-era, I’d love a look into his head during the events that go down; what’s his angle on all of this? Is it just to free himself, or does he have broader plans? How much is he lying in all of this? For him, I’d be happy to get an outsider PoV or in-universe meta about him, especially on what he was before he got locked up—he’s in books! Clearly he wasn’t totally low profile back in the day.

The Court Jester

Princess Gwendolyn/Sir Griswold

Hubert Hawkins/Maid Jean

Hubert Hawkins & Giacomo

Hubert Hawkins

- Character Development

- Getting Together

- Humor

Fandom-specific DNW: Gwendolyn/Griswold relationship that isn’t reciprocal

Okay, so, this has been a favorite movie of mine since I was like ten lol. I love it and its comedy and its characters and like… I mean. Look at my Thing for secret identity nonsense; it shouldn’t be hard to see the appeal here.

Gwendolyn/Griswold—so, Griselda tells Gwendolyn that she’ll marry for love. Now we all know that she doesn’t get to marry her jester; but who’s to say that she doesn’t end up marrying for love anyway? After all there’s no real other reason to pair her up with Griswold in the end; certainly there’s no longer a political advantage to be gained by doing so.

Hawkins/Jean—I like their dynamic, their mutual respect for each other’s skills and abilities, how they know each other and rely on each other and idk man I just want More.

Hawkins & Giacomo—this is a ridiculous prompt, in that they spend all of five minutes together before Giacomo gets knocked out (or is it killed? Not clear tbh) and disappears from the movie. I mostly think it would be really funny if somehow they had to drag Giacomo along? And then he’s trying to complete his original mission, but he and Hawkins have to pretend to be the same person, for Reasons, and… anyway I just think this would be very funny.

Hawkins—just give me anything about him; I’d be here for just about anything tbh, he’s great. If you want something more specific, maybe tell me about his past, how he came to be part of the Black Fox’s group, or his childhood before that.

現実もたまには嘘をつく | Genjitsu mo Tama ni wa Uso wo Tsuku | Sometimes Reality Tells Lies Too (Manga)

Terazaki Kaoru & Ousaka Shouko

Terazaki Kaoru & Ousaka Nanami & Takekawa Izumi

Terazaki Kaoru & Ousaka Nanami

Ousaka Nanami & Ousaka Shouko & Ousaka Toshio

- Character Development

- AU – Genre Shift

- Fluff

- Slice of Life

Fandom-specific DNW: sexualization of Kaoru’s crossdressing, romance between Kaoru and Nanami beyond light shiptease à la canon, full justification of Kaoru’s fears re: Nanami’s dad

I love these kids and their adorable friendship and character development. Honestly, anything you can give me with either of them I’ll probably treasure, since as far as I can tell this fandom is basically nonexistent. Some of my feelings here are just wordless warm fuzzy feelings but I will Try to give prompts.

So, for more specific ideas:

Kaoru & Shouko—I love how mom-like Shouko feels around Kaoru, and I’d love a deeper look into their dynamic. Half of me thinks she already knows or at least suspects that “Kaori” isn’t really a girl, or at least isn’t a cis girl, but I rather suspect she’d just not say anything, at least for the time being—“Kaori” is her daughter’s only friend, after all, and has been pulling Nanami out of her shell, and she wouldn’t want to disturb that.

Kaoru & Nanami & Izumi—these three are a lot of fun together, I’d love any sort of shenanigans with them, the more ridiculous the better.

Kaoru & Nanami—look they’re just. adorable. Anything exploring that friendship I am here for.

Ousaka family—I really like their dynamic. I’d be here for anything exploring it, really, including a look into Nanami’s backstory—it seems she wasn’t always as much of a shut-in as she is at the start, but there’s pain there too—what happened? I’d also find it quite funny if her parents have actually figured out Kaoru’s secret but aren’t going to let on to the kids just yet.

General things I’d be into seeing explored in anything with the relevant characters: Nanami’s past, Kaoru’s past/family/home life—he seems awfully lonely at times, do these kids… go to school? I kinda have the impression that Nanami doesn’t, but what do you think?, their mutual obsession with Peten-Chan

If you want to do a setting AU here I’d be down for that, as long as you keep the characters and their dynamics and don’t make it too dark.

Thank you so much for writing for me and good luck with your writing!!

#exchange letters #fandom5k #fandom5k 2020 #requested: original work #requested: the dragon prince #requested: the court jester #requested: hanging out with a gamer girl

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moiraineswife · 7 years

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Azriel Meta - Shadows

I started replying to this post by @abookandacoffee but, well, I’ve been meaning to talk about this theory/idea for ages and it got...long...and it kind of started going beyond the scope of the original post SO NOW IT GETS ITS OWN (alo *apologises in advance because I’m going to disagree with a few points of yours SORRY*)

I’ve seen the shadows disappearing/leaving him completely theory a few times and it’s always confused me a little bit? For a start I think it’s something that’s inherent in Az, like Mor’s magic or Rhys’s daemati powers but for another I could never figure out why people wanted them to go. Then I realised people figured that they were somehow sinister, that they might even whisper bad things to him, make him worse, that they were connected to his trauma and I never read them that way? (Which apparently makes me in the minority here but what else is new?)

I never actually saw the shadows as a symbol of Azriel’s childhood trauma? (I think that the scars on his hands do that more than anything else and there’s soooo much symbolism in there especially given what he does now for his court but that is a meta for another day)

As for the shadows I always thought of them as...Well the opposite actually?

In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone.

I think the shadows are a positive thing for Azriel actually? I don’t want him to lose them, I don’t think he wants to lose them either. They’re a part of him. A good part. I think they represent something like freedom to him. When he was chained up in a dark cell the shadows connected him to the outside world. They told him what was happening, warned him about what was coming, probably made it far easier for him to protect himself and for him not to fear the darkness that surrounded him when it confided all its secrets to him.

I also think those shadows lead to his release. The incident with his burned hands happened when he was eight but he wasn’t released and allowed to go to the war camps to be trained until he was eleven. When he arrived he knew nothing - nothing of fighting, nothing even of flying. But he was a shadowsinger. Rare and coveted I think if anyone sought to use Azriel and his gift it was his father and that that was the only reason they let him out, let him go to the war camps to be trained. (That’s all very guessworky I admit that but it’s not too huge a leap.)

I don’t think the shadows are a result of of his trauma, not exactly, or that they were somehow caused by what he suffered. Maybe that caused them to wake sooner than they might otherwise have done (I don’t think the high fae for example come fully into their power before they mature (for Mor it was reaching 17 and her first period) But I don’t think it’s a manifestation of it - I think they’re a shield.

I think they protect him. I think they tell him things to keep him and the people that he loves safe. I think they’re a defence mechanism, they’re a kind of armour:

It was almost enough to distract me from noticing Azriel as those shadows lightened, and his gaze slid over Mor’s body: a red, flowing gown of chiffon accented with gold cuffs, and combs fashioned like gilded leaves swept back the waves of her unbound hair.

A wisp of shadow curled around Azriel’s ear, and his eyes snapped to mine. I schooled my face into bland innocence.

(Az’s shadows warning him Feyre is being an interfering little so and so is one of my favourite parts of this and I’ve been meaning to parallel it with Mor for ages but it’s coming out here so WHAT CAN YOU DO?)

This is obviously a fairly bland example since Feyre isn’t actually causing him or Mor any kind of harm - but it’s something Az clearly wants to know about and so the shadows tell him. I’ve never been able to see them as negative or bad in any way. I think they’re positive. And I think the only reason that they lighten around Mor is that he trusts her and that he allows himself to be vulnerable with her. Rhys has told us that Mor is the only one who can get Az’s guard to drop and get any real truth from him about how he feels. I think the response of his shadows is symbolic of that more than anything - it’s his guard dropping around her. He doesn’t need his shadows to protect him as much around her, it’s instinct.

So like on a personal level I think the shadows are good for him? And I don’t want him to lose them. But I also don’t think that it’s something Rhys uses and I don’t think what they offer Azriel is...Inherently negative. (This is...complicated...because in a lot of ways those shadows are tied to Azriel’s self-worth and the value he feels he has to his court because they’re a huge part of him being able to do his job. But I think that’s more...a personal thing than a thing that’s exploited)

I think Rhys definitely worries about Az and if Az were to say he was done with this/he couldn’t do it any more that’d be that no questions asked from Rhys. Whether or not he would is another story but I think...I don’t think it’s a result of power imbalance. I don’t think it’s because Rhys has made him feel like he can’t tell him. Rhys isn’t putting any pressure on Azriel here - Azriel is putting pressure on Azriel.

As with what we’ve discussed about Moriel this is something that comes from Azriel’s personal insecurities and it is not up to anyone else to ‘fix’ that for him. That’s just downright disrespectful of Azriel’s independence and agency as a person tbh. Rhys can’t take Az’s job away from him/lessen his demands on him for the same reasons Mor won’t go to him and try and force his hand about their relationship. It’s Azriel’s choice. Even if they think his insecurities and what he does to himself is unhealthy, I think it’d be more unhealthy if either of them (in this case more specifically Rhys as he has more direct ‘power’ over Az if you like as his High Lord) tried to stop. It’s not Rhys’ place to decide what Az can or can’t handle, that’s up to Azriel.

I also think that....There’s something of Mor and the Court of Nightmares in what Azriel does. I don’t think it’s exactly good for him (torture probably doesn’t do wonders for one’s mental health after all) but I also don’t think it fully prevents him from healing and moving on from his trauma. I think in a lot of ways it’s like Mor and the CoN and giving some control over something that was directly used to hurt them. (Azriel’s is just...a much darker, more twisted and uncomfortable and difficult thing to talk/think about version of that but there’s similar logic)

People often made the mistake of assuming Cassian was the wilder one; the one who couldn’t be tamed. But Cassian was all hot temper—temper that could be used to forge and weld. There was an icy rage in Azriel I had never been able to thaw.

I think this is a part of Azriel that is entirely his own and it’s not something that Rhys (try as he might) has any great influence over. There’s a darkness in Azriel that’s hinted at a fair few times and while I don’t think he relishes what he does I think he’s capable of it. In a way that say Cassian would not be, I think Az has the ability to...compartmentalise in a way.

I also think that it’s important to note, when talking about Rhys and Az which I’ll get to more in a minute, that Rhys is aware that Az has a support system in place? He knows that he won’t talk to Cassian about it and he won’t talk to him (which implies that they’re both concerned and have both tried, probably more than once) but Rhys knows that Mor will talk to him and that Azriel will (eventually) talk back. He knows that Az isn’t fully dealing with this all on his own and that he does have an outlet and someone he can discuss these things with and who will help him work through things if he’s struggling which is important. Rhys isn’t indifferent to what Az is doing or oblivious to it either he’s aware of it and he’s aware of the support Az has as well. (Also I think it’s important to note that the only thing we see Az torture in ACOMAF is the Attor. Which was....vile. Az isn’t out there torturing innocent servants for information and tbh I don’t think he had any great issue chopping the Attor into tiny little pieces)

Okay last point (I PROMISE) is the power imbalance thing you mentioned between Rhys and Az and Azriel maybe feeling beholden to Rhys and therefore somehow obliged to keep doing this. This idea makes me...Uncomfortable. It’s too Tamlin-ish for me to entirely happy with it but I also don’t think it’s happening? Not in that way. Okay this is also Complicated (goddammit Az) but I think it comes back to the same thing of self enforced pressures vs external pressures. And there’s basically none of the latter coming from Rhys in this equation.

Theoretically there’s a definite power imbalance between Rhys and Az (and Rhys and.....Everyone in the entire Night Court since he is their HIgh Lord after all) but....The thing with that sort of dynamic is like anything in these books. The thing itself is not inherently unhealthy or toxic or abusive. (This is also seen with Tamlin’s protectiveness: the desire to protect someone is not inherently negative. It’s only negative when it’s taken to the extreme where it starts to wear on their mental health and the protective person doesn’t take that into account because they’re too busy making themselves feel better to care. Protectiveness= not unhealthy Using that protectiveness as a way to control someone while dressing it up as caring about them = deeply unhealthy)

So yes Rhys has power over Azriel which creates an imbalance between them in a theoretical sense. Practically though...Rhys doesn’t enforce those ideals. He doesn’t pull rank. He doesn’t order any of his court to do things that they haven’t consented to. (Which is something that opposes what Tamlin does with say Lucien - he uses his power to force Lucien to do things he isn’t comfortable with) There’s a dialogue with them. When they’re deciding what to do it’s a group decision, they talk things over, they debate plans, they’re encouraged to offer their own input. Rhys isn’t running a dictatorship. He has the final say and his court will obey him I’m sure if he does give them a direct order but that’s rare.

I also don’t think Az is in a position where he feels he can’t say no to Rhys/challenge him. (This is...Something that we do see with Lucien/Tamlin which I keep coming back to because it’s a good parallel. The few times that Lucien actually pushes back or attempts to stand up to Tamlin and make his own view heard he’s belittled, intimidated and outright violently punished for it. That’s a power imbalance. That’s a situation where a person cannot speak up or say they are uncomfortable or unhappy with what they’re doing.) This is not what Rhys is doing with his court. Az can and has voiced opinions that Rhys flat out does not like:

Azriel pushed, “It’s a solid plan. The king doesn’t know our scents. We wreck the Cauldron and vanish before he notices … It’ll be a graver insult than the bloodier, direct route we’d been considering, Rhys. We beat them yesterday, so when we go into that castle … ” Vengeance indeed danced in that normally placid face. “We’ll leave a few reminders that we won the last damn war for a reason.”

Cassian nodded grimly. Even Mor smiled a bit.

“Are you asking me,” Rhys finally said, far too calmly, “to stay outside while my mate goes into his stronghold?”

“Yes,” Azriel said with equal calm.

Az is perfectly comfortable with, and capable of, disagreeing with Rhys even when it comes to Feyre. And this is a plan that Rhys ultimately accepts and agrees to (with Feyre’s consent) Azriel’s opinions are validated and properly considered and I have no doubt that if he ever personally feels like he wants to walk away from his job telling Rhys about it wouldn’t be the thing that stops him.

Which is important because it’s not that Rhys has set up an environment in which Azriel feels forced to keep doing something he doesn’t want to. It’s more like Azriel himself is an environment that forces him to keep doing this. But that’s on Az to sort out and come to terms with. It’s for Az to set his own boundaries and decide what he can and will do. Mor tells us the lengths Az pushes himself are bordering on sadistic but I don’t think anyone in the Inner Circle ever even comes close to agreeing with this or encouraging it. In fact they do the exact opposite.

But there’s a limit to what they can do without imposing their own wills and agencies on Azriel which would then be a power imbalance because that would involve Rhys using his authority over Azriel to compel him to do something that he doesn’t want to that would likely damage him. (Atm I think what Az does (and does well) is important to him. It makes him valuable. It makes him important. It gives him worth. And obviously he doesn’t need to do that for his court/family to love and protect him and value and respect him but he needs it personally for himself.)

(I know you said you didn’t think that Rhys was expressly doing this but I think it’s more like he’s...actively avoiding doing so and I don’t think he ever would. Azriel has never and will never be put in a position where he feels he’s being forced to do something that he personally - for his own reasons not because he feels indebted to any member of the circle - does not want to do)

So...yeah. I think the shadows thing is...An entirely positive thing for Az. And...just because it means someone covets him doesn’t mean he’ll be used? Those shadows give him power - and power over people - since he can read their feelings, intentions and possibly thoughts (we’re not sure, we just know they tell him things he shouldn’t otherwise know) But that puts him in a position of power. And I suppose he could be exploited and used for it but...tbh I think the shadows would protect him from that? (We’ve already seen that they rush to tell him about Feyre being nosy which is an incredibly innocent thing to ‘protect’ him from. If someone was using him...He’d know it.

ANYWAY THIS WAS REALLY LONG AND I’M REALLY SORRY YOU ONLY MADE A TINY POINT AND I TURNED INTO A WHOLE THING BUT I’VE BEEN MEANING TO TALK ABOUT THIS FOR LIKE SIXTEEN YEARS SO HERE WE ARE.

TL;DR: Azriel’s shadows are a positive force that do nothing but actively benefit him and protect him and why do people want to take them away from my shadow son/think he will lose them and this would be a good thing, I am confused?

#azriel #moriel #rhysand #morrigan #acomaf #acotar series #acotar meta #my meta #azriel meta #look i love azriel too much okay #i have a great many Thoughts #and i did not want to clog up your post with all my drivel #SO HERE WE ARE #text post tag

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