Dolores O'Brien and George William Sinclair are siblings bound by an unbreakable curse of immortality, yet separated by a chasm wider than the centuries they've endured. Dolores, a fierce voice for the downtrodden, embodies the spirit of revolution, while George, a ruthless Duke and warmongerer, upholds the rigid order of the upper class. Their past is stained with unspeakable betrayals that fuel a present of seething hatred and constant conflict. As the Cornish woman fights for justice in the grimy underbelly of society, George navigates the treacherous halls of power, their paths colliding in a city rife with social disparity and simmering rebellion. Consumed by rage and resentment, she finds herself locked in a bitter struggle not only with her brother, George, but also her past traumas which have numbed her emotionally and morally overtime. Dolores must confront the demons of her past and the treachery of her kin as she fights to forge a new destiny, one where honor and courage prevail.

Title says all. I'll likely be doing a couple of these in separate stories. The first chapter will be the request page! If you have a character and/or scenario, post it there. Other wise, enjoy! BEST RANKS: #1 in Price #25 in CallofDuty #51 in CoD

Peter and Raven come up with the idea of a roadtrip so that they can spend time getting to know the members of the X-Men. It also gives them the opportunity to share news about newly discovered family connections. Set after X-Men apocalypse (but Charles' doesn't lose his glorious hair).

The year was 1962 when I met the man I would later call my husband. The man who sits at my bedside, holding my hand as I weakly gaze into the familiar blue eyes that captivated me many years ago... Far too many years than I would care to mention. "Charles?" My voice escapes my lips in a breathy hum, the downtrodden tones of approaching death threatening to distort his beautiful name. "Yes, my Love?" He replies with an expression of deep melancholy. "Do you remember when we met?" I inquire with a gentle smile painted upon my face, my wrinkled hand cradled gently in his own. "Of course I do, Darling," he soothes me, the cool metal of his wedding band brushing against my skin. "I never stop remembering."