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hookhausenschips · 5 months

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Burning Rubber

Chapter Six

F1 Masterlist

Burning Rubber Masterlist

Word Count: 2,177

Summary: Azha is enjoying her time away. Some of the F1 boys get a taste of the street racing life but it is not what they were expecting

Warnings: angst, fighting, blood, car accident, illusion to death, injuries from car accident, graphic content.

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Asha’s POV

Sitting in my lowrider after finishing it a few days ago, I smile knowing tonight is going to be phenomenal. A debut to the new me. I don’t plan on debuting the new car until later on, she still needs some upgrades. I haven’t seen Nova or Sariyah around in this scene since before the Vegas incident. I’m sure it had gotten out what had happened and not many people are very accepting of disloyalty. I have kept my silence not seeing a reason to give them my time. Even though all they’ve been talking about is me from the screenshots people send me. Lando and the Quadrant crew have continued to try to reach out. I just can’t bring myself to answer, they shouldn’t be around this lifestyle. I’m preventing them from being exposed to things they shouldn’t see.

Spending time with family has helped take my mind away from Vegas and the call from Lando. Although I haven’t been home in the past couple of days. Sleeping at the garage when I feel I need it after working on the cars. I received a call from Formula Drift yesterday regarding when training will start and scheduled a meeting to go over everything for my position at the beginning of next year. To say I am excited is an understatement, a new beginning. A better way to provide for my family aside from street racing. Speaking of, I check my phone and see it is almost time. I start the lowrider and listen to the engine purr before heading back to the garage to get ready.

“Hey Kalifòni papiyon (California butterfly), you on your way yet?” Jirani's voice rang through my phone. “Yeah, I’m about to hop in the car and I’ll be there in ten,” I said while pulling my shirt on and fixing my hair. “Did you give Edwin the money for my spot?” I question after hopping in my car and rolling out of the garage. “Yeah, you’ve got an hour and a half until the start,” Jirani spoke. “Okay, I’ll see you guys when I get there. Love you.” “Love you too Kalifòni papiyon.” We said our goodbyes and I scrolled through my phone for music. I decided to go with ‘On The River’ by Young Dolph. The bass fills my car as I cruise down the highway to where the pre-race meet is. I hear the cheers from everyone at my arrival some tapping my car. I smile, it feels good to be back. I spot where my brothers are parked and reverse my car into the spot between them. Getting out I am bombarded by some of the crowd, being lifted in the air as some chant my new street name “Nephthys!” Others just cheer. “Alright I missed you all too, you can set me down now!” I yell while laughing. The street race life, we are just one huge family. Being set back onto the ground the crowd dispersed, I asked one of the bystanders “Do you know where J and Kel are?” They pointed a little way down and I spotted their girlfriend’s cars. I smile and nod in thanks and head that way.

“There she is!” Jirani’s girlfriend Keyani said as she hugged me. Pulling away I go to hug Giana, Ja Khel’s fiancé. “Welcome home beautiful.” She whispered. I thanked her and turned to my brothers. I froze in shock. What the fuck. Standing talking with my brothers were Oscar, Charles, Max V, Carlos, Daniel, and the man I have tried avoiding; Lando. I turn back to the girls “What are they doing here?” I question. “They’re here with your brothers. They had showed up while you’ve been gone. We promised not to tell or else you wouldn’t show.” Keyani said sheepishly. Before I could respond I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and it was Jirani. He guided me to the group, “And here is the talk of tonight.” He said as I glared at him. The guys all turned to me, “So this is what you do besides drift racing?” Max asked. I nodded looking at him trying not to meet Lando’s gaze, “Is it practical? No. Legal? Also no but it’s something I love and have grown up doing. Nice seeing you guys again. I’m going to go find Edwin.” I say and turn to take off. “No need to, I have your radio right here.” Ja Khel said while handing me said device. I groan inwardly, these two idiots know what they’re doing. Looking behind the group I spot two people I never thought I would see again walking towards us.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking. Jirani get your hand off of me, I’m not staying here to get ambushed. There will be a fight you can’t prevent.” I say. They all looked confused until I point to Nova and Sariyah. My brother let me go and I began to walk towards my car until a voice rang out, “Always running. The only thing you’re good at Azha!” Suddenly the area became quiet. I spin around and March towards the two smirking, “You have no right to speak my name. I’m not running from anyone. I’m right here.” I push the radio into Ja Khel’s chest. Keyani and Giana came to stand beside me, the F1 boys standing by the girls’ cars. “You both know you’re not wanted here nor allowed in the underground anymore so I would suggest you take your shit boxes while they’re still driveable and leave,” Giana said while crossing her arms. “And I suggest you go take care of those fucking kids-.” Before Nova could continue, my fist connected with her jaw. Sariyah tried to grab my hair but Keyani was on her in an instant, “You’re not jumping nobody!” Nova tried to smack me and grab my hair but I punched her side. As she grabbed her side I swung again for her face and connected. She dropped but before I could do real damage someone wrapped their arms around me and pulled me back. I began to squirm, “Let me go!” I yelled.

Edwin had shown up as Jirani grabbed Keyani and Ja Khel held back Giana. “You two know you’re banned for life! Get the hell off my streets and if you ever show up again, I’ll make sure Azha gets hers in. Now move!” He told the two bloodied girls as two of Edwin’s guys hauled them off. I was still in the person’s arms and pulled away from the action. Once away I was let go and I swung around on the person. Lando. I froze. “Are you alright?” He asked and he looked me over. “I just fought someone who I called my best friend and you ask if ‘I’m okay’? That is fucking hilarious.” I deadpanned. “Azha drop the attitude please and just talk to me.” He begged. “There is nothing to talk about Lando. I told you to forget me and stay away. None of you are supposed to be here. What if someone started shooting? Then what? You are not meant to be in this environment. Leave.” I said and stormed off to my car for the start of the race.

Arriving at the line I look to my right and spot Lando with the group, I shook my head. He doesn’t listen. Hearing Edwin give the clear on the radio that cops were not around, one of the girls stood up in the back of his truck. She pointed at each of us drivers asking if we were ready. Revving our engines in response she got to the last driver. “Go!” And we all took off down the road.

Halfway through the race

Leading the pack of cars, with only two miles left until the finish line. I hit the second to last corner and take off down the road shifting gears. Before I could make it past the next intersection all I felt was a smash. And flipping multiple times before it all stopped and I began to black out.

Third Person POV

Azha shifted into second gear and was close to shifting to third until another vehicle hit her on the passenger side causing her car to flip. She rolled seven times before the car came to rest on its top. The other vehicle came to a stop next to Azha’s assessing the damage before taking off hearing the other racers approaching. Edwin stood in his tailgate waiting for the racers to cross the finish line until a voice rang out over the radio panicked. “Edwin we have a 267! Oh my god. Oh my god. Hey hey, stay with me you’re going to be alright.” Edwin felt his heart stop. A 267 was an accident with serious or critical injuries. “Who is it?!” He asked. He then grabbed the girl inside his truck to give the signal and handed her the radio. Four long honks sounded and everyone stopped speaking in shock. Edwin had grabbed his bullhorn and announced, “We have a 267 two miles back from the finish line. I need everyone to stay put until we can get everything sorted.” He spoke. “Edwin. It’s Azha.” The girl spoke. Edwin felt tears come to his eyes, the young driver was like a daughter to him. “Go get her group now!” He yelled.

Ja Khel, Giana, Jirani, and Keyani stood with the F1 guys talking about the race and explaining the underground to them when they heard the horn. They froze as the boys looked confused. “What’s happening?” Oscar asked. “Someone is hurt,” Giana spoke. “Four honks from Edwin means someone is hurt.” The boys all looked at each other in worry. Then they spotted one of Edwin’s girls running towards them. Giana felt tears spring to her eyes as she grabbed Ja Khel’s hand. “You all need to come with me now! Get in your cars and get to Edwin.” The girl spoke before taking off back to Edwin.

One of the racers had stopped and was trying to get Azha out of her car. The doors were smashed in and glass was scattered along the ground. “Azha I need you to stay with me alright? Keep your eyes open for me.” The male spoke as he crawled in. He took his knife and cut her seatbelt. Another racer had radioed to Edwin the situation and had called 911 after. The male then dragged himself and Azha out of the now-damaged car and the last racer grabbed her dragging her to the grass, laying her there. She checked for a pulse, finding that it was there the girl put pressure on Azha’s stomach where she was bleeding heavily.

“Edwin, what the fuck is going on? Where’s Azha?” Jirani asked as the group made it to the man. “I’m not sure what happened. The other drivers are with her. It’s a 267.” The man spoke. Giana and Keyani began to cry. “What’s a 267?” Charles had asked. The boys had not known Azha that well but they cared for her, especially after seeing how happy she made their fellow driver Lando. “What’s the worst red flag situation in F1 that isn’t death?” Ja Khel asked. The boys all felt their hearts drop. The radio rang again, “Edwin it’s a bad scene but tell her group to come. They need to be here just in case.” One of the drivers spoke. Edwin nodded at the group, “Go.” The group piled into the cars and took off for the accident.

Arriving at the scene the group gasped in horror spotting the mangled car. Parking Jirani and Ja Khel sprinted towards the drivers wanting answers as their girlfriends and the F1 crew were escorted to where Azha lay. Soon enough they all heard the sirens of the ambulance and spotted the lights. They all began to flag down the ambulance. The girl holding pressure on Azha’s wound was then replaced by one of the paramedics. “You guys should go. Get out of here. Thank you.” Giana told the other racers as she watched from the curb as paramedics did their job. The drivers hesitated before running to their cars and taking off. “We’ve lost her pulse!” One of the paramedics said and the group stood in horror. CPR was being done until the other paramedic brought out the defibrillator. Turning on the machine and waiting for the numbers to read ‘4,000’. “Clear!” Then Azha’s body jolted. Nothing. “Clear!” Azha’s body jolted again. Nothing. The girls sobbed. The F1 crew had tried to hold back their tears.

Lando had a million thoughts rushing through his head. What if they couldn’t bring her back? He never got the chance to tell her how he felt. “We’ve got a pulse!” Rang through the cold California air. One of the paramedics approached the group as her partner continued to make sure Asha’s condition was stable. “Are you family?” She asked. The group nodded, afraid for the worse. “We are going to have her Medivac to Zuckerberg Trauma Center. Do you know where that is?” They all said no in response. “It is in San Francisco, in my opinion, it is one of the better options for a trauma center. And getting her there by Medivac will be the fastest just to make sure her chances of survival are higher instead of taking her to a hospital and then transferring her.” The paramedic explained. “We will however have to transport her a little ways down so the helicopter has a place to land.” She added. “Can we see her?” Giana asked. “I would not suggest that, but if that is what you want you can before we transport. You can follow us to the triage area as well.” The paramedic answered. The group nodded and walked to the ambulance where Azha was placed on the stretcher. “Hey Cade, the family would like to see her.” The paramedic told her partner before he loaded the injured girl into the ambulance. He nodded, “Hurry up, she’s critical.” The man told them.

Ja Khel grabbed his sister’s bloodied hand as the others stood beside him looking over her broken and bloody body. “You’re strong Azha, you always have been. You will pull through. We need you here alright? I love you.” His voice cracked. The rest of the group said their thoughts before the paramedic said they needed to leave. The group watched as their friend and sister was loaded into the ambulance before running back to their cars to follow the ambulance.

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mk-writes-stuff · 2 months

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Can you please tell us more about some of the noble families of the different stations? Maybe just a quick run down/intro to each family and their clones?

I absolutely can! In fact I’d be delighted to! Thank you for the ask :)

I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to cover all the clones in detail - the average royal family member has about five at a time and they’re typically house servants who aren’t treated very well and have little power (clones are not considered people on any station), and as such I haven’t developed many of them. I will tell you about the ones I’ve developed though!

Full answer is going to be under the cut, because even though I tried to keep it brief it came out pretty long :)

First Station

First Station is the largest, most populous, and oldest station. Their current head is named Seven Pillars Lost Amongst Endless Expanse, although he usually goes by Septimus. He is engaged to Cassiopeia, the head of Sixth Station, and it is well-known (although never said out loud) that he killed his mother for her magical powers. Septimus has a lot going on and will be heavily relevant from book 2 onwards but I’m not going to spoil too much about him yet.

Septimus has a younger “sister” named Asha (they are actually nonbinary and prefer the name Asher) who was adopted by his family as a show of charity. They aren’t considered very relevant by politics. His father, Moons Eclipsed by Curtains of Passing Time and Fading Memories (you can call him Moons) stepped down after Septimus’s mother, Gravity Wells Beneath Gravity Wells, died. (Gravity is a taken name, as she is originally from Fifth Station).

Second Station

Second Station is the primary center of agriculture in the seven stations. Their current head is named Babylon. He took power fairly recently, after the previous head, Amaryllis (his cousin) stepped down to join the Church of the Stellar Cross as a nun.

I haven’t developed Second Station as much as some of the others, in case you can’t tell :) They aren’t especially plot-relevant until book 4 so I haven’t gone too in depth yet.

Third Station

Third Station is considered the entertainment district. Its current head is Narcissus, whose entire family has been found dead over the years, primarily of puncture wounds. Narcissus is a pretty vain and self-centered man who often throws lavish parties and is insistent that all his clones look flawless and just like him.

He is named after the character from Greek mythology - Third Station names their children after figures from old world stories.

Narcissus has a clone named Nellie who is a trans woman (he is unaware of this). He does not treat Nellie well but she’s still alive because he’s pleased with her. Nellie has a severe addiction to a drug called mindsplit and is attempting to hide her magic talent from Narcissus out of fear he will kill her for it.

Fourth Station

Fourth Station provides mechanics and components to the other stations. The head of the station is named Authority, and her husband is named Winston (he’s from Third originally).

They have twin daughters named Ruthlessness and Ambition, who are currently competing to become the heir to Fourth Station (neither has been officially declared the heir). Ambition is engaged to Stellaris, the younger brother of the head of Sixth Station.

One of Ruthlessness’s clones, a woman named Ruby, is currently in hiding on Fifth Station.

Fifth Station

Fifth Station is ruled by a heavy theocracy - some would call them a cult - called the Church of the Stellar Cross. They believe that the stations were flung into the void as a punishment for their hubris and believe that cloning and clones are abhorrent because of their belief that having a genetic duplicate of oneself fractures one’s soul. The ruling family of Fifth Station does not have clones.

The head of Fifth Station is named Ananias. He is accompanied at all times by his executioner bodyguard Azrael.

Sixth Station

Sixth Station contains a lot of scientific study and material production. The current head of the station is a woman named Cassiopeia, who is engaged to Septimus of the First Station. She has a younger brother named Stellaris, who is rarely seen outside of Sixth Station (nobles tend to gossip about his awkward behavior, as they have no understanding of autism) and is engaged to Ambition of the Fourth Station. Their parents died of a mysterious illness a few years back.

Cassie (the deuteragonist of the series) is actually an escaped clone of Cassiopeia who fled to Seventh Station. She developed magic due to radiation exposure on her escape and was forced to cut off her arm due to the damage from the radiation. She wears an eye patch to hide her heterochromatic eyes.

Seventh Station

Seventh Station is the station where medical technology and medics come from - and is also the home of our protagonist, Belladonna. Belladonna is the heir to Seventh Station, although her parents aren’t very happy about that because the ritual that would’ve allowed her to take magic from others failed, leaving her unable to perform magic.

I won’t get too deep into Belladonna’s issues here but her parents’ disdain for her and mistreatment of her has made her a very anxious, troubled young woman who struggles with her own self-image. She wants to make them proud but doesn’t know how to fix the magic she can’t perform.

The head of the station is named Ricinus, and he’s Belladonna’s father. His wife is named Goldenrod. They have more than a few relationship issues going on, although they keep quiet about it.

Ricinus has a clone who was taken out early, named Rhys. He’s considered a nuisance by most of the staff as he’s painfully shy and constantly feels out of place. Goldenrod is cheating on her husband with him, although Ricinus hasn’t quite figured that out.

I hope this still qualifies as a quick rundown lol. Feel free to ask me any questions or give me any feedback - these are my blorbos and I love talking about them. Thank you again for the ask, I’m delighted to get to share them all with you!

#writeblr #asks #seven station chronicles #addiction mention #abuse mention

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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years

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CHAPTER XXIX

A Kili X OC fanfic

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Tw: More Thorin and Raewyn banter. Sudden angst (hold on to your seatbelts. It’s gonna be a ride from this chapter on). Raewyn kicks Kili. Bilbo and Raewyn being besties because we need some happiness to keep the energy up. Descriptions of exhaustion because of walking + description of being out of breath because of a fall. I like time skips for the spice. Not that heavy yet.

As some of you may or may not know; I am in a serious writing slump. I halted my whole celebration and everything. I haven’t written anything for this series for two entire weeks straight, so it took some time getting back into the story. Updates will therefore still be slow, but I try to post new chapter every Sunday 19:00 CET. For now; enjoy the chapter and don’t forget to let me know what you think of it!

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When the dwarves have very little screen time in tbotfa so you have to write you own scenes while you are in a writing slump

If the mountains of gold did not appear overwhelming from a distance, they definitely did up close. Having ignored Thorin’s shouts and protests, Raewyn had marched up to the treasure hoard, ready to grab enough valuables for Laketown to rebuild. Yet, unlike she had suspected, no one had come to stop her yet. The king was so caught up in his own mind that he could not find the strength nor the urge to stop the Asha, even though he had been completely and utterly obsessed with the gems and gold.

Picking the purest of jewels from the piles, Raewyn stuffed them in her pockets, not wasting her time on mere golden coins. She knew exactly what was more valuable, and which could remain in the halls forever.

Silent curses spilled from her mouth as she tried to push Thorin’s delusional face from her mind. She was aware that it was only a matter of time before he would confront her again, but she would make sure the men on the other side of the gates held their share of the treasure.

The gold beneath her feet fell with every movement, and the clinking of it was heard throughout the otherwise quiet mountain. Never had treasure looked so sickening, or sounded so foreign, and she nearly grew scared at the daunting amount of jewels. Pushing herself through it, she reached down to pick up another necklace, inspecting the emeralds decorating the chain, before stuffing it with the rest of her share.

A loud clinking was heard from behind her, but this was much further than her feet were. The ranger froze at the sound for a short moment, staring at the coins below her as she tried to identify the footsteps.

When a louder clinking was heard again, it was obvious to her that the person wanted to make themselves known. And with that thought, it did not take long for her to figure out who it was.

“Did he send you?” She asked aloud, picking up a ring from a small treasure chest.

A sharp silence was heard after her question, and she knew the presence had halted his movement.

“Yes.” Sounded a remorseful reply.

Raewyn hummed at the answer, twirling the ring between her fingers. When no other words were spoken, she put the ring in her pouch, turning around to face the prince.

“What will you do?” She questioned, having dropped her hands from the treasure.

Kili only stared at her from the golden stairs, a new sword hung over his hips, though his hand made no move to reach for it. He was clad in heavy dwarven armor, letting Raewyn know that Thorin was indeed preparing for war.

“I do not want to choose.” He confessed through a whisper, looking behind him, silently wishing his brother had been beside him.

“You will have to.” Raewyn pointed out, trying to adjust her tone to Kili’s, even as she felt more anger than regret.

The dwarf frowned upon her speech, slowly making his way down the stairs as he unsheathed his sword. Staring down at it, he threw it down the treasure hoard, swallowing thickly.

“I want to be with you.” He managed out, a defeated look on his face.

“But you cannot abandon your family.” She understood, giving a short nod as she remained in her place.

“Thorin will throw me out when he finds out you left the mountain.” Kili explained, now standing below the golden pile Raewyn was vacating.

“If.” She countered, giving him a warning glance.

“When.” He shot back, his voice steadfast and unwavering.

Observing his confident stance, the ranger sighed, dropping her shoulders.

“I cannot let you do that either.”

“So what will we do?” Kili tried, making his way on top of the pile.

“I don’t know.” Raewyn mumbled, looking up at the ceiling.

“Neither do I,” The dwarf admitted, his voice now closer. “And I am not here to tell you not to grab that gold, for I stand with you. You know this.”

His hands carefully found hers, drawing her attention back to him. Looking anywhere but at him, Raewyn squeezed his hand three times, finally resting her eyes on a pillar in the distance.

“So what will you have me do?” Kili finished.

“I was going to leave eventually,” The Asha confessed, letting her mind wander back to the burning lake they had faced days prior. “My quest ended when Smaug drew his last breath.”

“Then why are you still here?” The prince voiced, even surprising himself with his question.

Feeling her heart leap into her throat, she blinked slowly, having expected this question since their first night in Erebor, yet still unprepared with her answer. In all honesty, she did not even know why she was still here. It was obvious Thorin wanted her gone, but she did not stick around to agitate him on his throne. Nor did she stay for Bilbo, which she might have expected herself to do.

“You know why.” She ultimately answered, letting go of his hand as she took a step back.

“I do,” He admitted, taking a step towards her. “But I need to hear you say it.”

Loud footsteps were heard through the halls as both Kili and Raewyn’s heads shot up at the sound.

“Raewyn!” A voice shouted, seeming out of breath, yet extremely recognizable to the pair. “Thorin sent Kili to-”

Bilbo ran into the treasure room, spotting the two upon a golden hill. He broke his sentence halfway, letting out a sigh of relief as he noticed Kili’s sword missing.

“You did not think I was actually going to kill her?” The dwarf questioned, almost insulted.

“Kill me?” Raewyn repeated, genuinely surprised by the king’s order.

“I wasn’t going to.” He defended, holding his hands up in surrender, his mood suddenly switching.

Looking at the hobbit below and the gates in the distant halls, he inhaled deeply, making eye contact with the ranger.

“Strike me.” He concluded, his voice quiet, though she was sure she had heard him.

“Excuse me?”

“If you strike me and run off, I won’t be banished and you won’t be followed.” The dwarf explained, his tone more urgent as he stepped towards her again, making Raewyn take two steps back.

“I am not going to strike you.” She hissed, taking a quick look at Bilbo below, who seemed confused at the entire exchange.

Kili groaned in frustration, holding his hand up as he gently turned Raewyn’s head to face his.

“Please.” He pleaded, his eyes nearly begging as he lowered his arm.

The Asha only managed to stare at him, a hurt look flashing across her face. Kili’s face set in such sadness, yet determination, and she absolutely hated it. She would not strike him just to please Thorin. But she did not want Kili to get banished because she ran off without his interference.

Feeling her heart sink, she placed her feet further apart, staring at Kili with desperate eyes. But his intentions did not seem to waver. Instead of running towards her, he stood there, unmoving, waiting for Raewyn, whose mind was reeling by now, begging her to let him stand there and simply run off.

But before her inner conflict could get the better of her, she rest her weight on her left leg, kicking her right one from underneath her. Her foot harshly collided with Kili’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs as he fell down the treasure hoard.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she ran down as well, on the other side of the fallen dwarf. Turning only briefly to look at Bilbo, who had ran to Kili’s side. Blinking fiercely, she made way for the main hall, preparing herself to leave the mountain.

“You knew about Mithril forging.” She heard Kili’s voice call out. It was out of breath and shaky, but it was there.

Her footsteps wavered slightly, her pace fading as the lump in her throat began to swell.

“Keep it,” She called hoarsely. “It belongs to you.”

——

The walk towards Dale seemed longer, and more tiring, than it had perhaps been. Though Raewyn had been of stronger build, she began to realize the treasure in her pockets only made her footsteps heavier. She had already offered Farris a few chains in case she would be caught, but even those four lesser chains did nothing to fade the weight pulling at her trousers.

“Raewyn, wait!” Someone called out. Someone fairly close to her.

Before she could answer, Bilbo suddenly appeared in front of her, pulling a ring off his finger. One that Raewyn quickly recognized as the ring the hobbit had offered her in Mirkwood.

“Bilbo?” She spoke bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

The hobbit stuck his hand inside his coat, pulling out the ever-gleaming Arkenstone.

“Thorin is no longer the same,” He stated. “Perhaps this way we can encourage negotiations.”

“It is better off destroyed.” Raewyn countered, scoffing lightly. “Perhaps by making the one thing he longs to hold unobtainable, it will drive him mad enough to knock some sense into him.”

“We are not going to do that.” Bilbo objected. “This is for Bard.”

The ranger squinted her eyes upon his words. “For what? I have enough jewels here to save the people of Laketown.” She explained, gesturing towards the chains hanging from her pockets.

“That is also why I am here,” The hobbit muttered, taking another step towards his friend. “Bring it back, or- or keep it.”

“I’m sorry?” She questioned, visibly taken aback.

“Raewyn, you have told me so many tales and stories about the kingdoms of old and your avoidance of them,” Bilbo told, stuffing the Arkenstone back in his pockets. “Don’t throw yourself in deep of them because of one dwarf.”

“Thorin has nothing to do with this.” The Asha hissed, not angered by the hobbit, but angered at the insinuation of Thorin’s approval.

“I know,” Bilbo smiled knowingly. “Go back to Erebor, Rae.”

“Bilbo-”

“No,” He halted. “This is me putting my foot down.” Slamming a foot down to prove his point, he aimed his finger at the ranger, who was looking at him in silent judgment. “You have helped me so many times, now let me help you. And I am not in the mood to deal with another stubborn dwarf.”

Raewyn stared at him, trying to find the proper words to argue with him. But she knew he would not quickly change his mind. She knew he was leaving for Dale, regardless of her words. She could force him to run back to the mountain, had an urgent thought not suddenly crossed her mind.

“The orcs are on their way to siege Erebor,” She spoke without thinking.

Noticing Bilbo’s sudden shock and surprise, she sighed deeply. “Gandalf sent me a letter.”

“Have you warned them?” The hobbit asked, alarmed at the speech of his friend.

Raewyn swallowed thickly, looking at her feet for a short moment before turning to look back at the shorter creature.

“I wanted to.” Was all she said, letting Bilbo do his thinking on his own.

As if she could hear the gears turning in his head, she looked at the hobbit staring far-off, trying to understand her words. And when he did, his face revealed his realization, making Raewyn form her lips in a thin line.

“Revenge will not make you feel any better,” Bilbo whispered, resting a hand on her lower arm, silently pleading for her to turn back.

“I know,” She agreed quietly. “But with his mind, and his actions against the survivors of Laketown….”

Looking deeply into Bilbo’s eyes, she shrugged, causing the hobbit to drop his hand. “What if he does not get better? Will we let him rule by his own selfish bidding?”

“It is his kingdom.” He sighed, though the hobbit himself was not pleased by the thought. He knew Raewyn was right, and that his rule would be his end, but he did not dare to interfere with Thorin’s rule as the ranger had.

“So we let him get devoured by his own greed and power?” She exclaimed in exasperation. “He threatened and tried to kill me multiple times! He sent Kili after me. Kili won’t kill me, but the next dwarf might.”

Upon the name of the dwarf, Raewyn seemed to halt her next sentence, freezing upon a frightening thought. Gasping lightly, she took a step back.

“What was I thinking?” She mumbled, turning to look at the mountain in the distance. “Thorin might be insane, but he isn’t stupid. He’s going to kick him out.”

——

Where Raewyn had thought the walk to Dale was challenging, she found herself out of breath with every step she took back to the mountain. Farris had been following Bilbo regardless of her owner returning to Erebor, but Raewyn couldn't find the urge to call the owl back.

She had already dropped a couple of necklaces and chains, but it was not the weight of the gold that made the climb back up so difficult. It was the dawning realization that she was to face Thorin once more. To try to bargain with him once more. And with the stubbornness of both of them, she knew she wouldn’t get far. Yet she had to try to talk to him, or at least try to stop the king from kicking anyone out.

From above her, she could hear two pairs of footsteps walking around, alerting her that there were dwarves up there guarding the gate, or perhaps even waiting for her arrival. Having only recognized one dwarf upon the noises, she halted momentarily, waiting for the second pair again. But when they appeared frozen, she pushed her shoulders back, simply walking up the remainder of stairs.

Almost immediately, Bofur ran up to her, his face laced with confusion and slight desperation.

“Lass, what are you doing here?” He pleaded, grabbing her arm to stop her movement.

Tearing her arm from his grip, she continued her path towards the gates.

“Where is Kili?” She questioned, the dwarf trailing behind her.

“He’s inside,” Bofur answered, shooting a quick glance towards Dori, who sat down beside the gate. “But why-”

“Where is Thorin?” Raewyn interrupted, now walking into the mountain.

“I suppose he is in the throne room, as usual, but-”

“How important is it?” She sighed, turning around to face Bofur, giving him an exhausted look, her breath still labored from the climb.

The dwarf took a deep breath, holding his finger up, though he seemed to have trouble finding the words that were yet to be spoken. After a short while, just as Raewyn was about to resume her path, he spoke up.

“Where have ye been?”

Looking at him, she frowned lightly, having expected another question entirely.

“That is not important,” She answered, before pointing to Dori, who was still watching from outside. “I need you to gather the dwarves.”

With those words, she took off again. It took a quick second for Bofur to realize she was leaving again, stumbling over his steps as he tried to catch up.

“Why?” He wondered, followed by a slightly more careful: “I do not think you have the authority to-”

“This is not a formal request, this is me asking you a favor as a friend.” The Asha shot off again, holding her hand up to emphasize her point. “Orcs are on their way to attack the mountain and - unless Thorin decided that his treasure is not worth pining over obsessively -, he is going to sit here and let it happen. So either you gather the company or I will, but I need them here before sunrise.”

That shut him up, his footsteps fading as he let the words slowly, but surely, sink in. Swallowing harshly, he stopped, letting Raewyn continue her own path.

“What’ll you do?” He called after her.

“That depends.” She voiced back, no longer turning around to face him.

“Depends on what?” Bofur dared to ask.

Raewyn sighed audibly, beginning to grow slightly annoyed at the curious dwarf. Yet, she answered him truthfully; “Depends on who is still walking these halls.”

Having finally accepted her words, Bofur took off running, rushing to find the dwarves, who had all scattered amongst the mountain. Where most of them were still on the look for the Arkenstone, there were some who had taken it upon themselves to discover the halls and kingdom itself. With the leave of Thorin of course. But they could be hiding anywhere, and sunrise was mere hours away. Both Bofur and Raewyn were running out of time.

——

Having known the way to the throne room better than she had liked, Raewyn was quick to find Thorin, and on his side Fili. The two seemed to be too caught up in their conversation, but the Asha could not quite hear what they were saying. Nevertheless, the absence of Kili did not go unnoticed by her, and it send her into another internal panic.

Fishing out the last couple of necklaces from her pockets, she threw them on the floor, aiming them at Thorin. The sound of the falling gems and gold immediately caught his attention, his head snapping up at an alarming rate.

“You,” He seethed, raising from his seat, staring down from his steps. “You attacked my kin. My sister’s son!”

The Asha only walked up to the steps of the throne, pointing her thumb towards Fili.

“Both of them, if you want to make a list.”

“You have a lot of nerve coming back.” He taunted, his voice sharp, as Fili frowned at the exchange.

Raewyn tilted her head to her right side, shrugging as she neared the first step.

“Yes, well, I was halfway down the stairs when I realized I hadn’t bothered you enough yet. I came back to make it up.”

“Do not think your humor masks your intentions,” The dwarf spoke clearly, his voice booming throughout the room. “I know why you are here.”

“Do you now?” She teased. “I highly doubt it. There’d be a lot more panic here if you had.”

“Do not play coy with me, Asha. I have seen your looks,” He roared, angered at not only her words, but her mere presence. “I am not as blind as you might be.”

“That’s an ironic thing to say.” Raewyn mumbled to herself, stopping on the second step as she looked at Thorin. Noting his sword missing, she suppressed the urge to smile, yet she could not help but let a small smirk show.

“Look, oh your great dwarvishness with your absurd crown and your heavy robes that weigh twice as much as your pride,” She proclaimed, Thorin’s face switching that to one of confusion, before falling back into rage. “You have orcs marching up to your gates. To your bloody treasure that you intend to dwell over your entire life. They will be here in two, if not one night.”

The king made no intention to speak, nor did Fili, though he dared to let a pleading look fall into his uncle’s direction.

“I do not know what you long to do with this information, but if you will not make a call, I am gathering the company and we shall leave.”

And with her speech, Thorin began to smile. A smile so mockingly, that she wanted to do nothing more than to slap it off, throwing him off of the stairs for good measure.

“They will never walk with you.” He laughed lowly.

“Perhaps,” She shrugged, her eyes falling onto Fili. “But they will walk with him.”

Thorin’s smile faded as his eyes cast upon his nephew, giving him an accusing look. Yet, he was quick to stare back down at the ranger.

“I see your plan,” He mumbled, though his voice echoed through the halls. “Was this truly how you envisioned it? Convincing us that a threat is nearing, when the real threat hides in Dale?”

His voice sent shivers down her spine, her mind casting back to her encounter with Smaug. The strong and witted words that fell from his mouth appeared as if they were now in Thorin’s brain The dwarf of earlier did not have this way of speaking, nor did he feel confident enough to speak them, but he was no longer holding back.

“Was it not you who set out to help them?” He resumed. “And now you have returned. Perhaps because they did not want the treasure, but I highly doubt it.”

Finally, the king moved, taking a step down the stairs, walking at an agonizingly slow pace, glaring at the Asha below him.

“No, you came back for something else. You came back to take something with you. Something that you forgot the first trip,” Another step was taken down, though he halted, as if to ponder over something.

“No, not forgot; incapable of bringing along. You changed your mind, so you came back to get him. Is that not the case?”

Now he was standing only a small step taller than her, giving him the opportunity to look down at the ranger, giving her a daring smile.

Squinting her eyes slightly, Raewyn frowned at him, a million words and thoughts rushing through her mind as she tried to carefully calculate her next words without revealing too much. But once more, her tongue was quicker than her mind, and the words started falling freely.

“Every second you sit here, your mind becomes more delusional.” She hissed. “The orcs are real. And they will be here soon. As for your supposed genius speech; I came back to warn you, hoping that you might still have some common sense knocked into you.”

Thorin tilted his head up, looking at his nephew behind him, before letting his eyes fall onto the wall behind Raewyn, no longer bothered by her words.

“So, were I to say Kili ran after you, you would not care?”

Upon his words, her jaw began to clench, one of her hands squeezing together, as she swallowed thickly. He could not have followed her, she tried to convince herself. She would have heard him. He would have called after her, or at least ran after her. His boots were heavier than all others, so she could have known he was coming from miles away. It was simply impossible Kili had ran after her.

Yet the thought of it did not seem faux enough. She knew he very well might have done it, and he might have been more quiet than usual, having known about her years as a ranger. But he had never once considered it before. Why would he have changed it all of the sudden?

“I will not fight for your sake, your name, your throne, or your claim,” She changed the subject, referring to her earlier words about the orcs, purposely not mentioning Kili. “I will lead the company away from this mountain, so I shall fight to defend them. Sit here and rot, I could not care any less.”

Stomping down the stairs angrily, she huffed loudly. From behind her, she could hear Thorin sit back down on his throne, as Fili finally began to move.

Nearing the necklaces she had earlier thrown on the ground, she stood on top of them, pushing much force into her steps as the rubies and emeralds shattered under her boots, the gems falling into a million tiny pieces.

“You should leave soon,” Thorin called, his speech mocking, though his voice sounded angry again. “Perhaps your orcs have already found him.”

——

Taglist: @errruvande @justnerdystuffs @fallenangeloflight @spidergirla5 @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @writingawaymylife @lxdymormont @deathofafangirl01 @the-cranck-hobbit @chaoticpaintsplatter @kinnietingzs @derangedcupcake @radbarbariancupcake

#Starcrossed losers #Tolkien #the hobbit #kili x reader #kili #kili durin #kili imagine #fili and kili #thorin oakenshield #kili x raewyn #Raewyn asha #Bilbo baggins #gandalf The grey #botfa #battle of the five armies #raeli #Fili durin #fili

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anchoredheroes · 2 years

Text

@senoculae said:

❰❰ ALMOST ❱❱ our muses almost kiss but don’t or are interrupted before they do

the energy in haven is joyful, exuberant, and yet for one elf... she watches from above as the humans dance and drink and cheer, still reeling from the events of the temple. she was not meant to survive the breach. she'd been sure of it. how could she survive, when the rift at the temple had nearly killed her previously? and yet, she worries what it might mean.

she's survived, and that means she must run, right? the mark on her hand had yet to seal, but perhaps that would come with time. they were drinking, cheering in joyful celebration and now would be the perfect time to leave, while she could. and yet... and yet there were things here that made her want to stay. or, more accurately, people. solas was one such person. she's torn; they haven't tried to kill her yet, and that allows her to relax some. allows her to remove her intricate braids, put it into something looser. have a few drinks. even laugh and smile, a small bit. yet... if this is to be a false sense of security...

there's a hand on her shoulder, long elegant fingers that give her a reassuring squeeze and she nearly jumps, but the alcohol in her stomach makes her feel... dizzy. giddy. more at ease, a small bit. maybe she could stay. maybe, if she does leave, he could come with her. come with me, she wants to ask. i like you a lot, she wants to confess. he's looking at her, a rosy hue to his cheeks, his ears; they talk, and she finds herself drawing closer, closer, finds herself standing on the tips of her toes and he's leaning down. their noses brush. she can feel his breath on her lips, the scent of alcohol and something uniquely solas and she pays it no mind as her hands find a resting place against his chest, his arms around hers and they're so close, lips brushing and--

there's a sound. she can hear... marching. an army. the bells toll, and she hears the commander's voice down below and asha has to, regrettably, pull away, already reaching to tighten her braid, reach for her bow.

"forces approaching! to arms!"

she looks at solas, alarm in her eyes. "what on earth--" but there's no time to waste. one hand on her bow, she grabs his hand in her other, pulling him along with her as she runs to see what was going on.

#asks #𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚆𝙴𝙽 : || see me bare my teeth for you ( ic )#senoculae

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the-l-spacer · 3 years

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Summary: Lloyd Allen is sick and alone at his house. This is unacceptable.

Written for Day 7 of Shaperaverse week, for the prompt ‘Family, Home’ - and is a continuation of the theatre kids au in chapter 1! I had a blast writing for this event. Thank you for reading!!

Lloyd Allen is sick. Like, sick sick. Not the sort where he gets a runny nose and maybe a hoarse throat that clears up in a day.

No, this is the everything-at-once, Chernobyl-nuclear-fucking-meltdown-anthropomorphised kind of sick. He’s hot (and not in the good way that, as Kelis once put it, brings all the boys to the yard). His throat feels like someone attempted to make him swallow hot control rods (to continue the Chernobyl metaphor). About every facial orifice is leaking steadily. Looking at himself in the mirror is an experience akin to staring at the Elephant’s Foot.

To put it sparingly, he feels like shit.

And, he laments, lying on his side on the living room couch, today is the absolute worst day to fall sick.

Through half open eyes, he gazes at the clock hung on the wall, — an old-fashioned thing circled with Roman numerals, because everything about his dad is old fashioned, a trait that passed from father to son — ticking steadily to 10am, when rehearsal is slated to start.

He briefly considers pushing himself off the couch, wrapping himself in a warm coat, and going anyways. After all, they’re just starting to rehearse Janissary in earnest, having almost memorized the scripts and choreography and blocking, and it physically pains him to be absent just when the real work is about to begin.

On the other hand, he can’t have the entire cast be bedridden because of him.

Mulling over his choices, he doesn’t remember when exactly he blacked out, only to be woken up again by the vibrating of his phone on the floor next to him.

Groaning, he reaches out his hand to answer it, and the very action feels like moving through slow, thick honey. He manages, but by the time he brings the phone to his face, the call ends.

The too-bright display tells him he missed a call from Asha.

A slight smile crosses his face. Of course she’d be the first to call him.

He dials back, and she picks up right away. “Lloyd?” Her voice is high and hurried. “Thank goodness you picked up. Me and the others are so worried. Are you all right?”

Try to sound like nothing’s wrong. “I’m fi-achOO!”

Well, so much for that.

“Oh Lloyd, you’re sick?”

“That- that much is obvious, Asha.” He forces the words out through a stuck throat, and is too busy cringing as sneeze-gunk runs down his face (gross) to regret his curt tone.

She sucks in a breath. “Sorry, sorry, god I’m such an asshole. Is it a fever?”

He wants to tell her that the asshole is him, that she shouldn’t waste her breath on someone as ungrateful as he, but all he manages is a short, “Yeah.”

“And from the sound of it, a sore throat and a stuffy nose as well. Do you have a glass of water somewhere nearby? Do you feel well enough to see the doctor?”

“No, and… no.”

“Lloyd- “

“Sorry.”

“- stop- stop hating yourself for one second. I was going to say I can come over right now, if you want me to.”

That’s enough to snap him awake. “NO!” He pauses, wiping his nose. “No. Continue rehearsing, take over for me. I want everyone’s lines fully memorized by next week.”

Now it’s Asha’s turn to be the naysayer of the conversation. He listens, with some grim satisfaction, as she splutters on the phone. “M-me? You want me to be- bu-“

“I’m sick, remember?” He coughs once, for emphasis. “You have to do what I say.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll do my best, and I’ll let the others know you can’t make it. In the meantime, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yyyyes?”

“And you’re sure you’re getting enough water? Did you take a panadol? I could get some soup delivered to you-“

The rest of the conversation passes in a blurry haze. He vaguely remembers telling Asha to very much not waste precious rehearsal time by ordering food for him, and was it a fever-induced hallucination, or did he tell David to take over as narrator? Did he comfort the fraught third year until he no longer could, Asha finally stepping in to tell him to rest?

Well that he can certainly do. As Asha says something about sleeping in a cold place, he is already drifting off on the couch. He watches the (decidedly not cold) living room’s ceiling fan turn lazy circles, he murmurs a half-conscious ‘I love you’ to Asha, and he finally surrenders to unconsciousness.

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

“Lloyd? Are you there?”

What….

Lloyd stirs, and immediately regrets doing so. His hair sticks to the nape of his neck, and a layer of awful post-nap sweat coats his skin. Yet, despite the warm, stuffy air, he’s shivering, curling into himself, trying to figure out if the knocks on the door are figments of his fevered imagination.

“I think he’s still asleep.” The voices he hears are muffled, but definitely there. Is that David?

“Nothing else for it, we gotta pick the lock. I can use my hairpin.”

“Jill, NO!” His ears pick up Asha’s shrill soprano.

Michael’s telltale drawl comes next. “Doesn’t Lloyd keep a key outside the house somewhere? Was it the doormat, or the flowerpot…”

Lloyd’s eyes drift closed once again, until…

“LLOYD!!!” Two blurs bound toward him, but are quickly yanked back.

“Don’t crowd him! He’s way too warm as is.”

Lloyd rasps, “Asha... ? And Jill and Michael a.. And David? What are you all doing here?”

He feels himself being lifted, bridal style, and pressed against a sturdy chest, can feel the vibrations as Michael speaks. “We’re here’ta take care of our favourite stage manager, of course!”

“But.. you.. Rehearsals?”

“Done and dusted,” David says, hovering behind Michael as he carries Lloyd into the bedroom, depositing him gently on his soft mattress. “It went… not terribly, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Pfft, Davey here’s bein’ waaay too modest. As you predicted, he makes a pre-tty awesome narrator.”

David opens his mouth to protest, but Michael shushes him. “Go, set up the Switch so our boy Lloyd has somethin’ to entertain himself with once he’s feelin’ better.”

The obliging theatre techie in David wins out over his self-deprecating side, and he obediently trots off, leaving Michael in the room with a rather overwhelmed Lloyd.

“Don’t lie,” Lloyd begins, “was he really…”

“Yes.” Michael fishes out a thermometer from his backpack and takes Lloyd’s temperature. “Woof, 38 degrees. You’re burnin’ up. Aaanyways, David’s a little nervous, sure, I’ll let Asha fill you in on all the specific details, but he’s got potential. A loootta potential.”

Lloyd lets out a breath. “Good.”

“Now less talkin’, more tryna’ get better soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lloyd gives a small nod.

The other boy pats his arm, and leaves Lloyd, giving room for Jill to breeze in, pushing cups of honey lemon and hot herbal tea and instructing him to drink, opening the windows to let the cool spring air in, and twining small flowers around his shelves and bedposts, before finally pulling his rolling study chair over to his bedside.

“Asha’s in overdrive,” she says conspiratorially, “been freaking out ever since the call. She tried to hide it, obviously, but we could tell. She’s, like, super worried about you, so real talk. Are you okay?”

The chamomile tea warms his throat as he drinks, and he finds his voice flowing freer than before. “I’m all right, really. Some irresponsible delinquent in my lit class came in with a flu, which no doubt passed on to me.”

“But you’ve never been sick before, at least, you haven’t been like the entire time we’ve known you!”

“When my immune system is down, it’s down, I suppose.”

Jill’s face pulls in a sympathetic pout. “Oof, that’s rough. Least it’s not anything serious. If it was something serious, you’d tell us, right?”

Lloyd must have paused too long, because Jill leans forward with sudden seriousness, necklaces adorned with tiny silver trinkets dangling in front of his face. “We care about you. I know Michael and I like to give you grief, but we really do. We’ve been friends for years now, and if something happened, it’d be like I lost my- my brother or something!”

His face heats. “Jill… I... of course. Of course I’d tell you. I care for you all greatly as well, even if I don’t show it.” His hand finds Jill’s. “Thank you, for saying that.”

She gives his hand a squeeze. “Just saying what we’re all thinking. I’m gonna go play Smash with Michael and David. You,” she stands up, tapping his shoulder lightly, “rest.”

“I will.”

She leaves Lloyd, a little confused at the interaction, though all that falls away when Asha enters the room, a bowl of hot ginseng chicken broth in hand.

“I’m sorry for being so curt on the phone, just now,” he blurts out.

Asha waves his apology off. “Water under the bridge. Eat up.”

Time passes, Lloyd savouring spoonfuls of soup as Asha sponges him with cold water, giving him a play-by-play of their rehearsal. The details remain hazy in his mind, though Lloyd does chuckle when his friend tells him of David forgetting he was so far downstage that he almost missed his cue and fell right off the raised platform, saved only when Michael yanked him backwards.

“That.. certainly explains why his shirt is hanging off of him a little looser than before.” Lloyd remarks.

Asha sweeps the finished bowl of soup from his grasp, replacing it with a glass of water and a Panadol. “Interesting that even with a fever, you notice how David’s shirt fits on him.”

It’s lucky that Lloyd only has the glass raised to his lips, else he would have done a spit-take. “Wh- what?!?? Who said anything about me staring at David’s shirt?! It’s just a- a casual observation, anyone would notice it!”

Asha grins. “Naturally, naturally.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Nothing!” She says breezily.

Lloyd stares at Asha, currently sending a text on her phone to someone. From the living room outside, he hears Jill snort.

Ordinarily, he would press, but as is, his information-overloaded brain begins to shut down once again.

“Sure,” he says finally.

Asha looks at him with surprise. “That it? You’re letting me off that easy?”

“ ‘m tired,” he simply says, sinking lower into his sheets. “I’ll ask again if I remember.”

Asha busies herself switching on the AC, drawing the curtains so they don’t let in the late afternoon sun. “Sleep, and properly this time, okay? We’ll be waiting outside for you once you wake up.”

“M’kay.” His eyes are already half-closed, watching Asha hover in the doorway.

“I love you, Lloyd.”

I really did say that on the phone, huh.

Nothing else for it, then. “Love you too.”

When Lloyd wakes, his senses come alive one at a time. He feels better than he did in the morning, the medicine doing its work so he’s no longer covered in a cold sweat. His nose is no longer stuffy, and the room’s cool air is permeated with the faint scent of chrysanthemum.

He sits up. It’s properly dark, now, and he can hear faint voices outside.

Gingerly, Lloyd pads out of his room, peeks around the entrance to the living room, and sees his friends, crammed together on the couch, whisper-screaming as Princess Peach beat the shit out of Link on the TV screen.

It’s hard to tell who it was who notices him standing in the shadows first, but it’s David who says, “Guys, Lloyd’s up!”, followed by a responding chorus of cheers from his friends.

His friends.

Is it his fever, or is the warmth he feels rushing through him as they make room on the couch coming from someplace else entirely?

Is him resting his head on David’s shoulder a result of fatigue, or… something else?

And is David tilting his head so it rests on his in turn coming from the same place too?

Later, they sit at the kitchen table, eating soupy noodles ordered in by Michael, and Lloyd wonders if it's the hunger from his previously light meals, or if the food, eaten as he sits surrounded by his friends, is the best he’s ever had?

Is it the thinking of his sickness-muddled mind, or is his house, filled with inane chatter and loud, boisterous laughter, so unlike the cold, quiet days spent with his father, more like a home to him than it ever was before?

And is it his imagination, or is this small group of theatre nerds truly his family? Family he never had, family that disappeared when his mother left?

Even after his father does return, frowning at the mess and noise, and his friends sheepishly clear the takeout boxes and unplug the switch and wash the dirty plates and cups, finally bidding him forlorn goodbyes and get-well-soons, the thoughts don’t go away.

Lloyd pops another pill and heads back to bed, sending a short ‘thank you’ in the main cast and crew group chat, switching off his phone as he sees the wall of responding texts and stickers flooding in.

He settles his sheets back around him, catches sight of evidence that the afternoon and evening truly happened - flowers adding a splash of colour to the space, a scribbled ‘gws’ post-it from David on his bedside table.

Lloyd Allen goes back to sleep with a small smile. After all, the sooner he gets better, the sooner he can return to the theatre. The sooner he can see his family. The sooner he can come home.

#new albion #shaperaverse #paul shapera #sorry i cranked this out at like 1 am and dont have the energy to edit it so #here take it #prompt week was kinda intense but like. fun! never wrote this much in such a short span of time b4 dlkjfas kinda proud tbh

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

Note

Hey! In one of Dany chapters she had a vision in which she was dragon burning people in Black ice armour at Trident. I think people speculated as Others will cross wall and come to kingslanding. There is also Jon who dreamed himself as black ice armour. What do you think about Dany fighting Others?

I can’t imagine Dany playing a significant role in that fight. My interpretation of that conflict is that it’s a case of negotiation at the magical level. I think the Others were born from an abuse of magic caused by heartbreak or wrath. A loss that mirrors the cases of red eyes and red tears we see on Catelyn/LSH, on Sansa after the loss of Lady, Ned, and when Joffrey has her beaten. On Sybelle Glover when offering to free Asha in exchange for her children.

It will mirror the negotiation for the Unsullied. Let go of the powerful quasi-undead army in return for something very valuable that has always been coveted - perhaps because it once was stolen.

Anyway, we’ve already seen Dany make a botch of her own Unsullied negotiation. She merely turned them into her own army. “Free” men, sure. She made them do what they were always trained to do: kill without remorse. Kill children. They still serve. New ones are being made in Astapor already.

Fire lizards can’t negotiate. And Dany would never sacrifice anything of value. Nor is she even a part of this conflict. It’s connected to Westeros, to the Children of the Forest (probably) and to the Starks. They were part of the original conflict and created the temporary bandaid that is the Wall and built Winterfell around the heart tree that might be at the center of it all. They can do this just fine without her.

Dany won’t come near it unless someone erroneously tries to convince her to do it because she is so Special and Chosen. And if she does, she’ll make it worse, because her style is to threaten or trick or destroy.

Also, leaves a bad taste in my mouth to employ a slave army against an undead slave army. Never in a million years is that the solution.

That said: I also can't imagine the Others heading that far South. They move slowly, and erratically. The entire Haunted Forest is smaller than just the upper third of the North and they haven’t really made it to the Wall yet, if simply marching South is their plan. Even if the Wall falls and they started marching South, the wave of refugees they would be herding down through the Neck ahead of them would be a humanitarian catastrophe all on ist own.

I’m pretty sure the Other conflict will center around Bran in the North, while the black ice is a metaphor for deceit and conflict specifically between Jon and Dany during the Dance of Dragons 2.0 between Dany, Aegon and Jon in the South.

Jon dealing with the Karstarks (Uncle Cregan v. nephew Harrion v. niece Alys) foreshadows him becoming embroiled in something similar. I don’t see the Starks (brother-”brother”-sister) fighting over the Northern crown, but there’s an aunt-nephew-nephew constellation of dragons just waiting to come into conflict.

Alys (betrothed to a guy who died) married Sigorn. The Karstark sigil is remarkably reminiscent of the Martell one. So, Arianne and Aegon? Dany is Cregan, leaving Jon to be the Harrion “Harry” Karstark, the one no one thinks is going to show up because believed dead. Last seen imprisoned at Maidenpool, the famous Florian and Jonquil site.

Honestly, I can just spout vague speculation all day long, but I have little to back it up but opinion. :)

#asoiaf #the long night #the Others #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #black ice #House Karstark #dance of dragons 2.0 #asks

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scarletaire · 4 years

Text

homeland (Chapter 1)

A/N: Welcome to my very first multi-chaptered fic! Would love to know what you think ❤️

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Genre/s: Contains Fluff, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Smut

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Post-QON, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Protective!Cardan, Bewildered!Jude, Jude and Cardan discuss the Undersea, but they get a little Distracted

Description:

Cardan’s eyes flash open.

“Why?” he repeats, and Jude feels the power shift between them. “Don’t you remember, wife?” he croons. “It was the Undersea who stole you away from me.”

And Jude has only enough time to think, danger, before he lunges at her.

or:

Cardan and Jude work on removing their armor. Taking off this particularly stubborn piece happens in varying states of undress.

Links: Masterlist | AO3

Jude wakes at the brush of Cardan’s tail against the back of her knee.

It tickles more than anything, and it’s this that shoves her into wakefulness. Growing up as a human in Faerie has not afforded Jude the luxury of graceful sleep. She comes into consciousness like a soldier, eyes open wide and trying to make sense of her surroundings.

Cardan watches her from the far side of the bed.

Jude furrows her brows. The sun is low in the sky, and it casts their room into burnished amber. It lines the angles of Cardan’s face with gold and shadow, and with the length of his body reposed before her, he is unearthly. Untouchable. She thinks she could still be dreaming right now.

Until she notices the distant look in his eyes.

She peers past the drowsy haze of sunset, taking in the way his tail lashes low and distracted across his body. He probably hadn’t meant to wake her from the looks of it. His tail often moves with a mind of its own.

She stretches out a hand across the space between them, the sheets of their bed cool and empty against the backs of her fingers. “Cardan?”

They had gone to sleep as they usually did, curled together and limbs tangled. It was the common way things were after they began sharing their marriage bed in earnest months ago.

This is new.

“Jude,” he says in reply, and in his voice, she hears something she doesn’t understand.

It strikes in her an unfamiliar urge to soothe. It’s a human thing, one that she hasn’t had reason to attend to while being raised in a redcap’s stronghold. She’s not quite sure what caused it, what it was in the way he whispered her name. All she knows is that it makes her want to shift closer.

Cardan has an unnerving ability to bring out the human in her, despite her best efforts, despite her being High Queen of Elfhame.

She reaches out a hand, and he – unearthly, untouchable – lets her brush a knuckle across his cheek. She waits.

He says nothing.

Undeterred, she tries to brush a curl of ink black hair away from his eyes. They burn.

She pauses.

He is holding himself preternaturally quiet, and still. So still, the way only fae can. An animal sort of stillness, she thinks.

Within the next heartbeat, Jude understands that gentle is not what Cardan needs right now.

Alright. This she knows how to do.

Her fingers, previously resting at his temple, move to tangle in his hair. She pulls hard enough to make him hiss. “What is it?” She tightens her hold. “What happened?”

His black gem eyes go clear with pain – and something else. Something darker. “A nightmare,” he breathes, finally.

She narrows her eyes, thinking about the tense line of his shoulders.

When he doesn’t elaborate, she slips a little bit closer. For better leverage. He tracks her movement across the bed.

From this distance, her nails rake a path down his temple and the side of his face. She digs her fingers in when she reaches his jawline, feels the way he clenches it in response. “Tell me.”

Something cruel pulls the corner of his mouth upward. “You shall like very little of it.”

He smiles when he’s nervous, Jude reminds herself.

She leans in close enough to see how the skin of his jaw is going white against the half-moons of her nails. “Tell me anyway.”

His eyes close. She thinks she sees a little of defeat in the way he leans into the rough grip of her fingers. “I dreamt,” he whispers into the waiting air, “of the Undersea.” And even in the warmth of the bed they share together, something cold slithers up Jude’s spine.

“Why?” she demands, before she can think better of it.

They haven’t talked much about her kidnapping. He’d almost forsaken his kingdom in exchange for her, and that was more than her heart, then so unsure and betrayed by her exile, could understand.

But now, there is space to wonder.

(“When you were gone—truly gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before.”)

Cardan’s eyes flash open. “Why?” he repeats, and Jude feels the power shift between them. “Don’t you remember, wife?” he croons. “It was the Undersea that stole you away from me.”

And Jude has only enough time to think, danger, before he –

– lunges at her –

Jude’s back hits the bed with a thud, and Cardan leans on his elbows over her, the unforgiving weight of him pressing her into the mattress. This time, it is his hand that grips her chin, the raw emotion in his dark eyes at odds with the careful way he tilts her face up to his. “They hid you away for weeks.”

“I clawed my way out of there,” she says, a little breathlessly. “I didn’t let them keep me.”

The slant of his mouth grows crueller. “Darling, I had to forge a treaty for you.”

Indignation sparks in her, at the reminder of her weakness. “I didn’t ask you to – ”

Cardan swoops in, and Jude holds her breath as his lips come perilously close to hers. “Do not mishear me, Jude Duarte Greenbriar,” he says softly, so softly. “I would have done anything to get you back.”

Jude sucks in another breath, because Cardan has suddenly dropped his mouth to the tender skin of her neck.

“Anything,” he says, and his lips ghost the words behind her ear as he speaks. “Everything.”

It’s instinct that has her spreading her legs, letting the weight of him make a home in the cradle of her thighs. He settles against her body like he belongs there.

“Do you understand that, Jude?” he asks. “Can you?”

He presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss at the base of her throat, and Jude wonders at how something so small can be felt all the way down to her toes.

Still, his words have dredged up memories she thought were long past. They are vivid in her mind now: the dampness of the dark cell, the ache of her exhausted body, the cold brush of Balekin’s lips –

“They did all that they could,” she says, because suddenly it’s like she has something to prove, “but I did not let them break me.”

Cardan tenses, his forehead resting on the softness of her cheek.

“Don’t you remember?” she asks him now. “I came for you the very same night they released me.”

Something passes over the length of his body, and pressed against him so closely like this, Jude can recognize it for what it is: a shudder.

“Oh, Jude,” he breathes into the line of her jaw. “I dreamt that you didn’t.”

What had he said? A nightmare.

“There was nothing left of you to ransom for,” he continues, face hidden in the crook of her neck. “Nothing but salt and seafoam.” And there, in their ridiculously large bed with the cobweb canopy billowing in a sunset breeze, the High King of Elfhame begins to tremble.

Jude is frozen underneath him. “Cardan,” she whispers, because there is nothing else she can say. No one that she can remember has ever cared for her like this before.

Another shudder passes through him at the sound of his name. And suddenly, he is moving closer, something like desperation igniting the insistent press of his body over hers as he tries to burrow his face deeper into her collarbone.

“I dove into the water,” he says, and she feels every word dance on the sensitive skin of her neck, “and it was cold and it was dark, but I swam and I searched, and I couldn’t find you.” His hands fist into the gossamer skirts of her nightgown.

Jude grits her teeth. She is powerless in the wake of his heartache. She doesn’t know what to do. This is an enemy she has never faced before.

“I would have done everything,” he repeats, lost. She gets the feeling that he isn’t speaking entirely just to her anymore.

In this liminal space between waking and dreaming, Cardan duels with the imaginary horrors of his nightmare, and Jude holds on as tight as she can.

The rocking starts with the intention to soothe. Jude thinks of Oriana, calming a restless Oak in the cradle of her arms. She thinks of her mother, wrapping her in an embrace that swept her back and forth. She thinks of Cardan’s mother, Lady Asha, and how she most likely never held her son the way mothers do.

So Jude begins to sway, as best as she can with the weight of him all along the front of her body. There is so much of him to hold, almost too much because he is so much bigger than her, but she will hold him. She will hold all of him until he no longer needs her.

A different kind of tremor passes through Cardan’s body when he feels her moving under him. She runs a hand through the hair at the base of his neck, gently scraping with the tips of her nails. Cardan seems to melt into her more, a long, faint breath easing out of him.

Soon, he starts to sway with her. Just a simple accompaniment of his body with hers. Against hers. Beat and tempo are but second language to the king of Faerie and his many revels.

He continues to murmur in her ear, as if the words are a refrain he cannot get out of his head. “Everything,” he is saying. “My everything, Jude.” The words are both vow and reassurance all at once. She feels them seep into her bones.

Cardan moves over her, trembling no longer. The mattress dips under their combined weight.

There’s a certain whiplash to all of this. She’s supposed to be the one comforting him, and yet now it is he who is whispering sweetly into the quickly heating skin of her neck. It is he who guides their bodies into an altogether different kind of rhythm.

Jude’s fingers clench into his bare shoulders. His habit of wearing nothing to bed has carried over into their marriage. She feels the overwhelming warmth of him all over her, the wisps of her nightgown a paltry barrier.

Their hips press flush, and Jude knows it wasn’t intentional, but he’s right there between her thighs, and the way he’s rolling against her is now wickedly familiar.

Or maybe he had meant it. Maybe this is how she can give him the comfort he needs –

There is no mistaking the rocking of their bodies now.

They are similar in this regard, in this need for something to fight with, to move against. She will be the sentinel at his back as he wrestles with the phantom of his dreams.

Cardan surfaces from the crook of her neck like he is surfacing from cold water. She brings him down to her, until they are nose to nose, until she can see the last dregs of his nightmare swirling in the depths of his eyes.

The words spill from him like a confession. “In the darkest shadows of my heart,” he tells her, hushed against the backdrop of the dying sun, “I wondered if I should ever see you again.”

And Jude thinks of the many, long months of her exile. Of how he had fought to keep her when Madoc stole her back as Taryn. She remembers the way he had clutched her to him after she beheaded the cursed snake. This isn’t just about the Undersea.

“I came for you,” she reminds him. “I came back for you.” And then she rolls her hips up to meet his.

Cardan groans.

All traces of innocence evaporate.

He descends upon her with a new vigor. She rises up under him with purpose simmering in her blood. Their bodies collide, and collide again, and he grasps her by the waist to hike her up higher. She wraps her legs around his hips, feels the length of him through the insubstantial fabric of her underwear.

He dances, she fights, and in this, they move together.

But first, she needs him to understand something.

Jude pulls on his hair again, now a mess of black curls from her fingers. She wants the pain to remind him just who exactly he has pinned beneath him. His Queen, his wife, his equal. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promises harshly, and then takes her teeth to the base of his throat.

His assent is a broken moan against her forehead. He spreads her knees wider, and grinds down in retaliation. He hits that spot between her legs, and Jude chokes back a whimper.

“I want you with me for always.” His breathing is ragged. His pace is ceaseless. “Do you believe me?”

Her body is hot all over, and he feels so good right there, she rocks her hips up because she wants him to do it again, more –

She can feel his cock now, hard and hot against the quickly dampening fabric between her thighs. It’s blessed friction, but it’s not enough.

“Do you believe me?” he says again. When she doesn’t answer right away, he digs into her again, running the length his cock up and down the seam of her underwear. The tip of it rubs against her clit, not quite hard enough, with every pass.

Something like a whine escapes her lips. She can almost feel the beginnings of an orgasm curling low in her body, if only he would just –

“Say yes, Jude.” It’s almost a plea, sealed with a strategic roll of his hips that has her arching up from the bed. And there, in his need for her confirmation, for her validation, Jude feels another piece of armor fall away between them. “Say yes.”

He’s crushing her, with the sheer weight of him all down the length of her hypersensitive body, with the magnitude of the meaning behind his words.

She is surrounded by him, his chest pressed against hers. He is all she sees when she opens her eyes, not realizing that she had closed them in the first place. His eyes scorch as he looks down at her, dark with desire – and the need for her to believe.

A small wildness charges the air between them. He knows her body so well now, knows exactly how to angle the next flex of his hips –

“Yes,” Jude gasps.

Cardan grins, slow and full of wicked intent.

He bends down low again, ready to whisper another naughty pledge, ready to press a kiss to her wanting lips, ready to finally take that sinful mouth and those clever fingers and finish what he started –

Three knocks, rapid like gunfire, ricochet through the room.

_____________

End Note:

😈

Look out for the next chapter hopefully within the next couple of weeks! The King and Queen need to address their little interruption, and Jude still has her own confession to make.

This fic started because Jude and Cardan needed to talk about the Undersea, and the repercussions of Jude’s kidnapping. I like to think that they both have their own hangups about what happened, and this is my humble exploration into how they possibly worked it out between them post-canon.

With added sexytimes, of course.

My inbox is open, so feel free to come shout about fic and fandom with me on my tumblr!

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theotherace · 4 years

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Taang Week, Day 3: Spirit World

I won’t get done with this prompt before the day is over, but I do want to upload something today, which is why I’ve decided to just put up what I’ve got for now and keep working on it without putting pressure on myself like an idiot. The main character of this story is Norbu, Taang’s OC son, and Aang hasn’t even made an appearance, yet, so technically, this is doing a bad job of fulfilling the prompt; there’s no Taang in this as off yet. But whatever. Read under the cut! And please keep in mind that this is still a work in progress.

–oOo–

Norbu sat, amidst the the statues of Avatars past, in the spot his father's likeness would one day occupy. His eyes were closed, his head bowed lightly, and he tried not to think – about what it would mean, his father's statue standing here, about the man's warning to not attempt what he was about to do, about all that could go wrong, about–

Anything, really.

Instead, he breathed.

In and out.

In.

And out.

In–

"Be careful."

He didn't have to blink or turn around to know who'd stepped behind him, quietly, through the wall like a spectre, but he did so, anyway.

His brother looked down on him without ... looking down on him, his stormy eyes, his sun-kissed face betraying no emotion or thought, and he looked eerily like Dad in the dim light, despite – by all accounts – taking after the Bei Fongs far more than any Air Nomad. He'd left the metal arm in his room, presumably, and his scar was covered, mostly, and his hair was askew, as always, and his right hand was clenched, betraying him. Telling Norbu that he wasn't happy.

But he didn't say: "Don't do it."

Wouldn't ever do that.

Their mother wouldn't, either, Norbu thought absentmindedly.

"I'll try", he breathed.

Bumi half-smiled.

"You want me to stay?"

The boy didn't think before he shook his head.

The young man furrowed his brow.

"I need to be alone", he hurried to say. "I need ... to be alone. With myself. It needs to be quiet, I need to–"

"Alright."

Norbu blinked.

"This is your journey. Your decision. I gave you the information you need." The smile spread as Bumi shrugged, carving a dimple into his shadowed face. "And I regret it a bit, because I should've seen this coming when you didn't just ask Dad. But you're not a child, and I can't stop you from doing what you want to do. So just ... be careful, Norbu."

"I promise."

"Good. Bring me a souvenir."

A wall shifted with the turn of a heel and sunlight fell into the sanctuary as it must've before.

Norbu snorted.

"I'll do my best. Stop tearing the temple apart."

So did Bumi.

"Never."

And then the twilight was back, and Norbu was alone.

So he turned.

Bowed his head.

Closed his eyes.

And breathed.

In and out.

In.

And out.

And tried not to think – about his brother, like he hadn't stood right behind him just a heartbeat ago, about his promise that he wanted to keep when they both knew he had know way of doing so, for venturing into the Spirit World, even just attempting to, came with a set of dangers nobody could quite predict. Not even their father, who was, according to some, the embodiment of the World's Spirit itself, so maybe part spirit himself, but the bridge between this world and the other in any case.

He had taught Bumi about his chakras and how to open them when Norbu's favourite past time had been to zoom around his mother on an air scooter, to show off a couple spinning marbles to the non-bending monks, who oohed and aahed and praised him, such a talented boy, how marvellous.

He had taught Bumi because Bumi had asked him to.

Norbu hadn't asked, because he had known his goal was to reach the Spirit World, and he knew there was something there that scared him, his father, something that wasn't just unpredictability or the unknown – on the contrary, something much too familiar, something more terrifying than anything he could imagine.

It had to be, if it scared the man who'd faced war and genocidal maniacs and the extinction of his race.

If it scared the woman he'd only seen tremble once, only to push through and get on that airship, anyway. Because he had heard his mother whisper about the Big Scary, too, with his ear pressed to a closed door, he had seen her face pale when Tenzin had asked about the Spirit World, and if she had ever seen it.

She hadn't.

Hadn't ever seen anything, she said and ruffled his hair, and that had been that.

Norbu shook his head, bit his lip.

And he tried, tried not to think, just to breathe, not to let his mind wander, not to think about his mother and his father and whatever they were scared of, because he couldn't be afraid of it himself, had to let go and stand above every fear, lest he block his Earth Chakra again.

He could do this.

He knew he could.

And there was no need to be scared.

It was cold and quiet inside the sanctuary, no monks laughing amongst themselves, no Kavi on his heels, excitedly rambling about the book Bumi had brought him from Agna Qel'a, no worried parents who knew that he was up to something.

No Bumi, because he had sent him away.

His heart drummed a steady rhythm inside his chest.

Letting go didn't mean loosing.

He could almost hear his brother whisper to him.

Letting go meant not to depend.

Letting go didn't need to be forever.

Breathing in, breathing out, he felt the world slip away.

–oOo–

"Have you seen your brother?"

Bumi's chewing slowed.

"Which one?", he said.

His mother raised a brow, bemused, as Kavi continued to read, a crease just between his eyes, lips silently moving with every word he soaked in. Tenzin's voice bounced of the hall's walls into the kitchen, loud and angry – Bumi had passed him and Asha on his way in, but he doubted they'd noticed him.

He felt like slapping himself.

"I'll give you three guesses."

He grabbed another apple from the basket by the door, then sat down next to Kavi, who shuffled his chair away without even looking up when their arms brushed.

Bumi pulled his feet onto his seat.

"So you do know", Mom said before he could lie.

Heat rose to his cheeks, made his ears burn.

Still, he tried: "I don't. Haven't seen him since lunch."

"Please."

She waved her hand as if to tell him not to waste her time; she quite preferred to cut to the chase, and he understood perfectly. Usually, he did, too. And he didn't like lying to her one bit, never had.

Mostly because it was entirely impossible to do so.

So he said: "He's meditating."

Which really wasn't a lie, he thought. It wasn't quite the truth, thought, either, and a useless attempt to get out of telling it, because his mother wasn't stupid. If Norbu was meditating, he'd have told her without thinking.

And he really should've thought before coming to get an apple.

"Want to try that again?"

"... no?"

Kavi lifted his head and frowned.

"Are you stupid?", he asked.

"I think he might be", Mom said.

"Oi!"

"Just tell me where Norbu is, Bumi."

He sighed.

"The sanctuary. And he actually is meditating, by the way. He's just ... well ... he knew you wouldn't be happy with what he's doing, so he didn't tell you. Obviously. But he's a clever kid, right? He'll be fine."

"What exactly is he doing?"

His mother was frowning now, too, which was just great.

Maybe he shouldn't've told Norbu how to open his chakras.

Maybe he should've sent him to Dad or tattled on him as soon as the Spirit World had come up, because he knew there was something hiding there, something his parents feared terribly.

Maybe he should've stayed close.

He hadn't, of course, and so that was that, and now his mom's pale eyes somehow bore through him. He scratched at a brown spot in his apple's otherwise perfect green skin until it tore and his nail dug into the squished pulp beneath.

"He's trying to enter the Spirit World", he finally said.

His mother shot out of her chair.

Kavi turned a page.

–oOo–

The boy blinked.

His heart beat.

His hands were trembling.

Murky water sloshed lazily against his dry legs. Trees, old and gnarly, grew into a green sky he could barely make out behind their tangled, leafless crowns. They were taller than any tree had any right to be, standing on their marshy roots as if on stilts. And Norbu felt tiny, all of a sudden.

Oh so out of place.

He rubbed his face.

A swamp, he thought, to think a clear thought, to not get lost.

This was a swamp.

He breathed in deep.

"You should leave."

And whirled around, slower, too slow, because there was no breeze to carry him no matter how he flicked his wrist, because this wasn't home, wasn't the sanctuary anymore, was a place unlike any other he'd ever visited.

"What?"

Though it felt familiar still, somehow.

You couldn't bend in the Spirit World.

Which meant–

“You don’t belong here, boy.”

His eyes darted around the clearing, jumping up trees, flickering over dark green vines as thick as his entire body, but there seemed to be nobody but him, no living soul who could’ve spoken to him, and so he swallowed against the lump in his throat and shook his head.

There was nothing here.

He was alone.

He had succeeded.

Odd, broken laughter bubbled in his throat for just a moment, only to be cut off by a startled scream once he turned around again.

Water splashed when he slipped on nothing, and above him stood, brow furrowed only slightly, a young man with a shaved head, older than Bumi, younger than their parents, and he was clad in orange and yellow.

“Where– You– Who are you?”

“You don’t belong here”, the stranger repeated sternly.

“I do!”

The boy struggled to push himself up again, his hands sinking into the muddy ground, his feet finding no footing.

“You are not a spirit. You should leave before you stumble upon somebody far less friendly than me. Somebody dangerous. I doubt you know where you have landed yourself, but trust me, child–”

“I’m not–”

“–you will be better off back where you came from.”

#Avatar: The Last Airbender #Avatar: The Legend of Aang #Taang #Taang Week #Toph Bei Fong #Toph #Toph Beifong #Original Characters #Dunebabies #Taang Kids #OC Norbu #OC Bumi #OC Kavi #only tagging those who got a speaking role lel #ATLA

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eefgegre · 3 years

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It’s all buried

When he left me, forgot me I have been through everything, thought over everything What else have I to do? I don’t blame you, Alyosha. Why are zapatillas de tacos futbol you deceiving me? Do you suppose I haven’t tried to deceive myself? Oh how often, how often! Haven’t I listened to every tone of his voice? Haven’t I learnt to read his face, his eyes? It’s all, all over. It’s all buried. Even so, the selling left a foul taste in his mouth. Taking a man as thrall or a woman as a salt wife, that was right and proper, but men were not goats or fowl to be bought and fekete női bakancs sold for gold. He buys or sells at auction or privately that which the majesty of the twin set cardigan outlet law has declared to be property. The victims may writhe in agony, and the tender-hearted spectator may look on with gloomy sorrow and indignation, but it is to no purpose. I don’t want to wear this dress . So far, however, it had been possible! My head was going round, I could scarcely stand upright, but my heart was filled with joy, infinite joy. My novel was finished and, although I owed my publisher a great deal, he would certainly give me something when he found the prize in his hands — if only fifty roubles, and it was ages since I had had so much as that. “This girl keeps making fun of me,” said the old man, looking delightedly at Natasha, whose cheeks were glowing and whose eyes were shining like stars. “I think I really may have overshot the mark, children; but I’ve always been like that . I told her quite truly how it struck me, that is that her husband could not bear to go on living without Natasha, and that one might say with certainty that their speedy reconciliation was inevitable, though everything depended on circumstances, expressed at the same time my conjecture that probably the failure of his lawsuit had been a great blow and shock to him, to say nothing of the mortification of his pride at the prince’s triumph over him, and his indignation at the way the case had been decided. At such a moment the heart cannot chanel ágynemű help seeking for sympathy, and he thought with a still more passionate longing of her whom he had always loved more than anyone on earth. And perhaps too he might have heard (for he was on the alert and knew all about Natasha) that Alyosha was about to abandon her. He might realize what she was going through now and how much she needed to be comforted. But yet he could not control himself, considering that he had been insulted and injured by his daughter. It had probably occurred to him that she would not take the first step, that possibly she was not thinking of him and felt no longing for reconciliation. “That’s what he must have thought,” I said in conclusion, “and that’s why he didn’t finish his letter, and cizme din denim perhaps it would only lead to fresh mortification which would be felt even more keenly than the first, and might, who knows, put off the reconciliation indefinitely . . .” You are no prince. You’re Reek, just Reek, it rhymes with freak. It makes me sigh now when I think of it, though it’s long ago now. She threw me over in a year. She had meant it playfully, but Daario’s eyes hardened at her words. “Fucking queens is king’s work. William Ladd, Esq., Minot, Maine, President of the American Peace Society, formerly a slave-holder in Florida.—“The dwellings of the slaves were palmetto huts, built by themselves of stakes and poles, thatched with the palmetto-leaf. The door, when they had any, was generally of the same materials, sometimes boards found on the beach. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first?” He laughed. The Stalwart Shields had chosen a new commander, a black-skinned Summer Islander called Tal Toraq, their old captain, Mollono Yos Dob, having been carried off by the pale mare. Grey Worm was there for the Unsullied, attended by three eunuch serjeants in spiked bronze caps. I’ll dine with you next week, or Friday if you like. But now, my boy, I’ve given my word; or rather it’s absolutely necessary for me to be at a certain place, You’d better explain what you meant to yeezy off white boost tell me.”. And he, poor dear, was on his knees, praying before the shrine. I felt my legs give way under me when I saw it. Lord Stannis has taken Deepwood Motte from the ironmen and restored it to House Glover. Worse, the mountain clans have joined him, Wull and Norrey and Liddle and the rest. He will do as he is told. If she stayed here, she was nike ao0053 doomed, and the only way she would return to the Red Keep was by walking. The Volantene waved a hand. “In Volantis, thousands of slaves and freedmen crowd the temple plaza every night to hear Benerro shriek of bleeding stars and a sword of fire that will cleanse the world. Elsewise he would have died. As you will nike delta force árif you do not yield.” He gestured at the parchment. The state of the case shows conclusively that the contract had its origin in an offence against morality,

zapatillas estilo valentino

pernicious and detestable as an example. But, above all, it seems to have been planned and executed with a fixed design to evade the rigor of the laws of this state. “His deicmen gyerek csizma mother,” Thistle told him later, after the boy had run off. “It were his mother’s cloak, and when he saw you robbing her …”. “Don’t be a fool. Euron shows the world his smiling eye tonight, but come the morrow … Asha, you are Balon’s daughter, and your claim is stronger than his own. Not now. Hizdahr’s peace has lulled us to sleep, they believe.”. “I . Shall . Will made a face at that, and said, “A tale to tell tavern wenches, you mean, in hopes they’ll lift their skirts.” Cletus had slapped him on the back. “For grandchildren, you need children.

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fineosaur · 4 years

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44 Throbb?

throbb | x | — 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”

from these drabble prompts

Much like the fire within the hearth that beckoned him with its flickering warmth, he felt disquiet within himself.

The air felt thick, far more humid than that of the North’s. He could easily make out the Red Fork by where he stood, pulling at the laces of his tunic. It unsettled him, the rushing water, so fresh, unlike the brine of his home.

Home. it didn’t sound at all like it should, or perhaps he should have felt it. That too he couldn’t imagine. Half his life he had stayed a ward of Winterfell, though hostage would be the more accurate term for it.

If he thought hard enough, he could imagine the jagged shores along the Sunset Sea, he could possible conjure up the way the salt spray would feel on his cheeks. Last he had felt it, he was a boy of ten, Theon Greyjoy, Prince of the Iron Isles. He was still heir to the Seastone Chair, but uncertainty twisted its knife in him at the thought of it.

He had grown accustomed to his life in Winterfell, despite the ephemeral overtone, he had gotten used to it. Once he had believed, hoped that Ned Stark would marry him to Sansa, but now she herself was but a hostage. Theon might have considered himself fickle, he knew himself to be, his interest jumping ship whenever he found something new to daydream about. Recently he had found his daydreams taking on a much different form, one much less temporary and wholly immersive.

Theon strode to the bed he had been given, taking a seat with a wineskin in hand. He had found that war made him weary, distanced him from everything he thought he had known. He hung on the balance between what he was and what he would be, what he could be. He deigned to admit to what he wanted to be. What he knew, though, was that he needed to, travel to Seagard with Jason fucking Mallister. At least Patrek wasn’t bad company.

His gut turned with apprehension. Theon chose to mask it with anticipation, he was a kraken who had been forced to spend too long away from the sea, frozen in the North, returning home would be good, he thought.

There was a knock at the door once Theon dropped his boots by the bed. There was a muffled voice as he walked, lifting the latch and opening the door to Robb crouching with his direwolf at his feet.

Theon leaned against the wooden door frame with crossed arms, smiling down at the young auburn-haired man, whose curled locks fell messily to his startling blue eyes.

He pushed his hair out of his face and straightened himself to his full height, “Were you busy?” Robb asked with a small smile growing on his face too. He looked tired, he rubbed his neck and glanced to the stone floors before meeting Theon’s eyes again.

“Not as busy as a king, I suppose,” Theon joked, stepping aside and letting Robb walk into his room, watching Grey Wind lay just outside the door.

Robb took a look around the small room, silently letting his eyes wander as Theon gazed at him. He wasn’t sure if Robb could tell how fixed his stare was, that his heartbeat quickened just a bit more around him than it did with all those other women, with anyone else.

“I’m sending you to Pyke.”

Theon laughed, “I know,” he answered, watching Robb turn back to him with a wide stare. Even with all those years of growing up together, Theon would have never thought it would come to this. That they would be at war, that Robb would be king and that he himself would be fighting a war within himself.

“I’m sending you home, Theon,” Robb reiterated. Home. There it was again. It hit him harder than earlier.

Theon swallowed heavily, still tasting the sweet, tart wine on his tongue. He approached Robb with steady footing, pushing his long hair behind his ears before meeting Robb’s eyes. “As an envoy to my father, I know that.”

Robb stood rooted by the shuttered window, his eyes darted away from Theon’s as soon as he got closer, “My mother thinks Balon cannot be trusted,” Robb said, laughter coated his words as if it were a ridiculous concept.

“I wouldn’t know,” Theon responded tersely, “not really.”

“It’s up to you then. When you get back home that is.”

It rang in his head each time, “Will you stop saying that,” his tone was blunt, but as a sparring sword, it still packed a hit.

“What?”

“Home—“ Theon waved his hand, bothered by his own sentiment, he had tried to play his farce, but something about Robb weighed on all his strings. He felt like one of those wooden dolls that Sansa and the steward’s daughter loved so much. “You keep saying it as if I even remember what it was like.”

Of course, he remembered. He remembered the smell of seaweed, the chalky feeling that matted his long black hair, the way his uncle had been to him. Theon remembered Asha’s skinny legs but not the sound of her voice. He missed his mother on occasion, more often than he ever wanted to admit. And even at times, he would think of his brothers. But that’s not what he meant. He knew exactly what home felt like, from the way it warmed him in manners the fire of the hearth could not and down to the way it looked back at him with glimmering Tully eyes.

“I’m sorry, I guess even I haven’t fully accepted it yet,” Robb looked to his feet, slowly walking towards the small bed and taking a seat. “I don’t think I quite remember a time when you weren’t around.”

Theon had no way of answering Robb, not when he spoke so solemnly. His feet, though not yet accustomed to the cold, stone floors, padded closer towards him, lining the curve of his jaw with his eyes, choosing to offer Robb a proper grin instead.

He had been playing the same words in his head for the last years, ever since Robb had grown to four and ten and he began noticing the height he had grown to, or the way his shoulders appeared a lot broader than before. Even the fair hair that began growing out against his jaw had caught Theon’s eye. Once again, it was unsettling.

“Have I made an impression on you, Stark?” Theon jeered, throwing himself on the bed as well. His body suddenly felt warmer than it had in a while, especially with the approaching winter.

“You wish,” Robb countered, shoving Theon by the shoulder in mockery.

Theon easily caught his hand, blaming the wine for the way he let himself stare back at Robb with his wrist between his fingers. He was warm, too inviting, especially with his pink lips and wide eyes.

“What do you know of my wishes?”

Robb’s brows furrowed, staring at Theon with a gaze of curiosity and confusion. “Is this to do with you going home?” Robb questioned, eyes dropping to where Theon took both their hands in his lap.

Theon turned Robb’s palm, eyes tracing the lines that marked his calloused hand. They were far too young for this, or mayhap the kingdoms were too old for them.

“You’ve always felt like home to me,” Theon quietly said, eyes trained on Robb’s palm, chest warm and light from the wine and belly weightless from the young man at his side.

“I have?”

Theon dared to look up at Robb, his surprised expression lit his eyes up, even more, making Theon’s heart pound a little harder. It had never been this way, not with anyone else. He didn’t think past those words, only that they had come to his head and he needed to say them.

“Theon?”

He leaned forward, lips colliding far too hard into Robb’s, it mattered not. Regardless, it felt right. Robb’s lips were softer than he had imagined, his lips moved slower even. It was good, despite initially being stunned, Robb relaxed into it, making Theon take his time as well.

Robb held onto Theon’s hand which locked on the back of Robb’s neck. They held one another steady as Theon shifted Robb until his back was pressed into the hard mattress. He pulled away briefly, staring down at his best friend, whom he had called his brother for half his life, the man he inevitably loved.

He stared down at Robb, his tousled russet curls, puckered, pink lips, and the flush that tinted his skin, still doing nothing to hide the freckles that dusted his face.

“I think I might love you,” Robb told him hesitantly, reaching out to tuck Theon’s long hair behind his ear, thumbing his earring before letting his fingertips line Theon’s stubbled jaw.

The words sent a flurry of emotion through him, tugging at his heart as he was haunted by thoughts of his departure.

“I think so too,” Theon nodded, smiling down at him before slowly leaning down to take ahold of Robb’s lips once more, only to be interrupted.

“You think you love me too?”

“No, I think you love me.”

Robb began laughing underneath him, pulling Theon down to his lips, both their laughs made their teeth clash before he shifted and leaned his forehead against Robb’s, his hair hung around them.

“I do, I love you,” Theon breathed, closing his eyes as they laid there, cocooned in each other’s thoughts. The war was leagues away, for now, it was only them. They were more than just a kraken and a direwolf, they were only boys, Robb and Theon, and all that mattered were their smiles against one another.

#this accidentally became REALLY long im sorry #1.6k ... hardly a drabble anymore #throbb #robb x theon #robb stark #theon greyjoy #canon compliant #rated t #asoiaf fanfiction #my writing #northernfieldsforever #asks #thank you for the prompt #this was so much fun to write #i dont write canon often so this was fun

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bookscapadesblog · 4 years

Text

What to Read While Stuck in Quarantine

Right now, many people (myself included) are stuck inside and social distancing due to the Hell that is considered our world because of Corona. As a fun activity for myself and in the hopes of maybe helping a few people through this weird/uncomfortable/stressful/whatever other negative phrase you want to use time, I thought I’d compose a list of books that may occupy your time. I’m going to try and stick with completed series or stand-alones so that in addition to everything else you’re not miserable you have to wait for a new book.

Similiar to my Non-Horror October reads post, I’ll add the Goodreads link so you can check out ratings and such!

So...here is my list of books that might help get you through the dumpster fire that is our current situation!

(I am aware some of these are very popular but I’m adding them anyway in case someone hasn't read them)

Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas

After serving a year in a slave camp, Celaena Sardothien is granted the chance at freedom when the crown prince chooses her to be his champion in a competition to find the new royal assassin.

If you haven't read this series yet and love YA fantasy please do yourself a favor and get it. Katie and I love it so much

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas

A loose retelling of Beauty and the Beast; Feyre is dragged off as a prisoner to a magical kingdom after killing a faerie while hunting in the woods. She comes to learn that maybe her captor, a beautiful Fae trapped in a mask, might not be as terrible as she thought.

I’m not even going to lie this was difficult to give a two sentence summary of. The first book is great but 2 and 3 are exponentially better and Feyre is just the badass woman we all need.

The Iskari Trilogy by Kristen Ceccarelli

Asha is the Iskari, responsible for hunting dragons in her kingdom. Engaged to a man she will never love, she is given the opportunity to prevent her marriage by killing the most ancient of all dragons.

All three of these books are interconnected but each one follows a different main character. They were all AMAZING, but book two (The Caged Queen) was my favorite

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

In the country of Ravaka, cut in half by a darkness called The Shadow Fold, Grisha are an elite magical group. After learning of her own abilities during an attack on the fold, Alina Starkov is taken away to learn to harness her power while under supervision of their leader, The Darkling.

I put off reading these like an idiot and finished them a few months ago and absolutely loved them. King of Scars is a continuation but maybe wait until the second one comes out to read it because I’ve been struggling getting over it and anxiously waiting for any news about it.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Kaz Brekker is one of the most notorious criminals in Ketterdam. When offered a job that will make him rich beyond his wildest dreams, he gathers a crew that can help him pull off a deadly heist.

This book has an array of diverse characters and a lot of excitement and hijinks. Takes place in the same universe as Shadow and Bone, so I would recommend reading it after them, but it can be done on its own.

The Wicked Deep by Shea Ernshaw

The small town of Sparrow is located on the coast of Washington and has a troubling history. Every summer witches possess three mortal girls and use their bodies to lure boys into the ocean and drown them. When a new boy arrives Penny doesn't know if she will be able to protect him from her sinister home.

I read this one in a day and absolutely loved it. Easy and entertaining read.

The Shadows Between Us by Tricia Levenseller

Alessandra is tried of being in the shadow of her older sister so she devises a plan: make the Shadow King fall in love with her, marry him, and then kill him and take his kingdom.

This book was described as a ‘slytherin love story’ and I was all about it. It was an easy read and definitely kept me intrigued in the story.

Gone by Michael Grant

All adults disappear, along with cell phones, internet, and any other way to get help. Teens are left to pick up the pieces in this sic-fi story.

I read this series a pretty long time ago but it was SO GOOD. Grant did such a great job sucking you in, to this day I will still recommend it to people.

The Fever Series by Karen Marie Moning��(Book #1 is Darkfever)

When her sister is murdered, MacKayla travels to Ireland in search of answers. While there she learns she is able to see beyond the human realm, into the real of the Fae.

Honestly this series was so wild and I remember there being some unnecessary erotic stuff but it was still SO DAMN ENTERTAINING. A good way to escape the humdrum of quarantine life.

Anything by Gillian Flynn

If you need a thriller, murder mystery, etc just honestly pick Gone Girl, Sharp Objects, or Dark Places. They're all so good.

Caraval by Stephanie Garber

Scarlett has always wanted to participate in the fantastical performance that is Caraval. She gets her wish when an invitation arrives, but then regrets it when she learns the performance centers around her sister Tella, who has been kidnapped by Caravel Master Legend.

I love these books. Scarlett and Tella are both amazing in their own way and the mystery and not knowing what is real and whats part of the game makes it so fun to read.

These Rebel Waves (Stream Raiders) by Sara Raasch

Adeluna is a soldier that helped free her home island of Grace Loray from its oppressors, the kingdom of Argrid. Devereux is a pirate, sailing the waters of Grace Loray and collecting its magic plants and selling them on the black market. Benet is the Crown Prince of Argrid, unsure of his father’s beliefs and methods after watching his uncle and cousin burned to death after practicing magic. Their fates are intertwined as they all search for peace between Grace Loray and Argrid.

Katie and I both just read this and they were so good. The beginning is a little slow but the history you get on all the characters is great.

Angelfall (Penryn and the End of Days) by Susan Ee

Angels of the Apocalypse have fallen to Earth. Streets are ravaged and life as we know it is over. When Penryn’s little sister is taken by Warrior Angels, she's willing to do anything to get her back, even make a deal with an enemy angel.

I looked for a hard copy of this trilogy everywhere and couldn't find it, so finally gave up and got the kindle books. I loved it, the end of world sci-fi and enemies-to-lovers tropes were wonderful.

The Knife of Never Letting Go (Chaos Walking) by Patrick Ness

Todd Hewitt lives in a town of only men, where everyone can hear each other’s thoughts. He stumbles across a girl in the swamp, the only one he’s ever seen and it sets off a chain of events that can't be stopped. On the run and hunted by the only people he's ever known, Todd tries to discover the dark truth of his world.

This series was so well written and just sucked you in. Even if it seemed like nothing was happening or was going to happen soon, I couldn't put it down. The books are all long too so thats a plus for quarantine reading.

And if you need something to bring you back to a time when things were simpler, may I recommend rereading some old favorites, two of mine are:

Harry Potter by J.K Rowling and Percy Jackson and the Olympians (also The Heroes of Olympus) by Rick Riordan

These don't need links, but they were two series that I loved when I was younger. The Goblet of Fire was the first big chapter book I ever read on my own and PJO just was so fun. I just read all the PJO graphic novels because I found them when I redid my bookshelves and it was a nice little escape.

Honestly, I have more recommendations but I feel like this is a long post already so I’m going to stop here and maybe I’ll do another one.

Anyway...happy reading, I hope this helps someone. It definitely improved my mood. Just remember High School Musical and hopefully we’ll get through this soon.

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aliveanddrunkonsunlight · 5 years

Note

Prompt: Brienne is a guitarist in a tribute band that has a viral video. Jaime, the guitarist in the "real" band, sees the video and goes to one of their shows.

Sapphire Blue Guitar

Words: 2,690

Notes: Inspired by Liz Phair, Kim Gordon, and the Fender sapphire blue electric guitar. @bussdowntarthiana i hope you like it!

“100,000!” she hears Sansa announce.

Brienne is still half asleep, but slowly rises upon hearing her friend’s announcement. By the time her feet hit the floor and she staggers out to the living room, she sees her other roommates and bandmates, Asha and Ygritte, shuffling around the kitchen, looking like they are dealing with the same emotional hangover. (Ygritte might be suffering from an actual hangover. She was knocking back shots last night.) They all grab at the coffees Sansa has brought, made to everyone’s order, and demolish the box of donuts.

“Did you save one for Margaery?” Sansa calls. Ygritte, Asha, and Brienne exchange wide-eyed, guilty looks, and burst into laughter. Asha puts back a chocolate one for Marg.

“What’s the count at now?” Asha asks as they join Sansa in the living room, flopping down on couches, balancing coffee cups, and licking their fingers clean of powdered sugar or icing from the donuts.

“105,000.” The three of them nod, trying not to get too excited. Brienne knows it’s the most hits they’ve ever had. Maybe they would finally start booking more gigs at places other than Qyburn’s Goat.

The set last night was amazing. She wasn’t sure if it was the energy of the crowd or what, but the songs were tight. They stopped worrying about the mechanics and simply let go and had fun.

Perhaps too much fun, judging from the half naked man trying to sneak out of the house right now. Asha lets out a cheer, Sansa turns beet red, and Ygritte waves it off. “Aw, that’s just Jon.” She beckons him over and tips her head over the back of the couch to give him a kiss.

“Ugh,” Sansa moans, hiding her face in a pillow. “That’s my brother.”

“I’ll call you later,” he promises. “Great show, ladies.” He smiles at their group before heading out the door.

“Great show, ladies,” Asha repeats in a mocking, derisive tone, until Ygritte nudges her in the shoulder.

“Do we want to have our decompression sesh now?” Brienne asks, stifling a yawn. She’s half wondering if the number of hits on their video has anything to do with their song choice.

“Margaery’s not even awake yet. Can’t start a band meeting without our lead singer.”

The four of them met in college due to their love of the rock band, The Kingslayers. One night at karaoke, when they found out Margaery could actually sing, they decided to form their own group. “A kind of gender reversal thing” as Asha had coined it, The Queenslayers. They started out messing around by playing a couple songs at a student talent show, but the response was so great, they kept it up, and started doing more and more covers of their favorite Kingslayers songs. By graduation, they were a full blown tribute band with regular gigs.

They all had other jobs, but the whole thing, which started out as a college joke, felt like it was snowballing into something serious these last few months. The Kingslayers, who had stopped recording and touring years before, announced they were doing a new album and accompanying comeback tour. Due to The Kingslayers’ return, more people seemed to have gotten wind of their little band, and more and more people were showing up to their sets.

Sansa was social media obsessed and had been friends with Brienne for years, so it made sense to bring her into the fold, and she had nearly doubled their hits in the past few months.

“Oh my god,” she exclaims, looking at her phone now. “We’re at 250,000. That’s…impossible. When did I check last?”

Asha’s eyes widened. “Not that long ago! Before Jon strolled through.”

Chaos erupts in their living room. “Don’t remind me!” Sansa declares, as Ygritte is grabbing for her phone, and nearly knocks over Asha’s coffee before Brienne swoops it up, saving their living room floor from another disaster.

She glaces up to see Margaery smiling as she comes in, looking perfectly put together as always in an emerald green silk robe, a hint of lacy lingerie peeking out as the robe falls off one shoulder. “What’s going on?” she asks innocently.

“One of our songs from last night has a bunch of hits. Show her, Sansa,” Asha prompts. She hands her phone to Margaery, her fingers trembling a little. Sansa’s cheeks flush before she turns to look at Brienne, who gives her friend a reassuring smile.

“Well, that is exciting.”

“Tyrion.” He shook his brother awake from where he was passed out on Jaime’s living room couch after a particularly fierce night out.

“Wha-gog?”

Jaime shoves his phone into his brother’s hand. “Just watch this. Addam sent it to me.” He crosses into the kitchen in his giant loft apartment. As he makes coffee, he can hear the tinny strains of the song through the phone’s speakers and hums along under his breath. It finally gets to the part Jaime has been waiting for, the guitar solo. He watched it about five times this morning. The shock of blonde hair falling in her face, the way her fingers fly faster and better than his own. His guitar skills haven’t been the same since the accident.

“Damn,” Tyrion grunts when Jaime returns and sets a steaming mug in front of him. “They’re good.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “She is. The guitarist. Their singer could be better and their drummer is shit, but she…” he taps his fingers on the phone over the woman paused mid-solo. “…she’s the key to all of it.”

“Maybe I should hire her for the tour, then,” Tyrion snarks. Squinting, his brother watches the video again. “Gods, they’re young,” he breathes.

“They’re not. We’re just old. Old and washed up,” Jaime tosses over his shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen to make them breakfast.

“Speak for yourself!”

The past few days have been insane. The video reached two million views (and counting), the local news contacted them for an interview on their morning show, other media outlets have been bugging them for comment, and they still have their regular gig at Qyburn’s on Saturday. Sansa spends most of the week freaking out about whether or not they could be sued by The Kingslayers’ legal team, but the day before their show, she receives a very brief, but nice email from Tyrion Lannister, the band’s manager (and brother to their lead guitarist.) “Saw this. Rock on, girls!”

“Girls,” Asha sneers.

“It’s nice,” Brienne replies. “Like he’s giving us his blessing.” She feels a bit uncertain about all the attention and prefers to concentrate on their upcoming show. Their house seems to have fallen into constant bickering about what their future might hold, so Brienne holes up in her room, fooling around with half-written songs. It’s her father’s old guitar, not the sleek blue electric Fender she uses at gigs, the one which matches her eyes. It’s taken her a number of years, but she’s written a few songs, and she only hopes that one day she’ll get to play them.

Qyburn’s is packed. No, packed doesn’t even cover it. It’s teeming. They arrive a few hours early to have time for a sound check and there’s already a line around the block. “Holy shit,” Asha intones.

Nerves begin to prick at Brienne’s stomach. Sansa steers the car as close to the door as possible. Margaery is following behind in a separate car with Ygritte’s drum set.

After their sound check, she bums around in her old Kingslayers’ t-shirt and jeans for a bit until they all start getting ready. Brienne doesn’t usually put much thought into what she is going to wear for shows, but tonight she put together what feels like an appropriate outfit. She changes into a well-worn striped black and white t-shirt, ripped black tights, and a pair of men’s maroon shorts over the tights. She prefers jeans, but they get hot during shows, and Margaery is always telling Brienne her best feature is her legs.

During sound check, she noticed her hands were twitchy, almost little muscle tremors. But now they are full on shaking. She has them tucked under her thighs as Margaery does a smoky eye on her.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she breathes.

“Don’t tell the others,” Margaery says very quietly. “But you’re the best out of all of us, Bri. So you can. I’ve seen how strong you are.” With all the bickering lately, it’s easy to forget how long they’ve all known each other and how well each of them know her. It’s comforting.

Brienne nods, glancing at herself in the mirror. The eye makeup is a lot, but she loves it. “Thank you,” she says, giving Margaery a tight squeeze. “You’re amazing.”

All week, Jaime tries to convince himself not to go, but curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself ushered into Qyburn’s via the kitchen. He’s wearing a red and yellow plaid shirt and a black baseball cap pulled down over his hair.

There’s a giant roar from the crowd as Queenslayers take the stage and he laughs, knowing what it’s like to be on the other end of that. His heart clenches when he sees her, blonde hair swept out of her eyes for now, a beaming blush coloring her cheeks as she looks out at the crowd and gives a little wave. She grips her blue electric guitar. Beautiful hands, he thinks. Long, nimble fingers.

It takes her a couple songs to get into it, but if she’s nervous, he can’t tell. By the third song, she and the bass guitarist are bopping around the stage and his eyes can’t help but travel the length of her legs, can see the lines of muscle in her calves. He feels dirty for even noticing and swallows the rest of his beer.

It’s an odd feeling, listening to songs he wrote years ago, but there’s a pride there, too. They sound better in person than the video. The singer is evocative and flirty, even more so than Addam, which he didn’t think was possible. When they get to the song he’s been waiting to hear, as soon as she starts to play the guitar solo, electricity races up his spine. His heart is pounding in time to the music and he licks his lips, watching her with anticipation. Come on, he thinks. You got this. It’s strange, but he wants her to do well. He hasn’t even met her, but somehow feels he knows her. When she finishes, he gives a shout from the back. “Woohoo!” Others join in and the cheers travel up to the stage. She smiles, a blush rising in her cheeks again. She searches the back of the room, shielding her eyes with her hand for a moment, looking for someone. Looking for him.

After their set, Brienne watches her bandmates. Ygritte finds Jon in the crowd, Asha and Theon are already headed towards the bar, and much to Brienne and Sansa’s surprise both, Margaery kisses Sansa as soon as she steps off stage. The two of them smiling at each other giddily before they find Renly and Loras in the crowd. Brienne tries to ignore the envy which washes over her. Everyone has someone. Except her. Her dad has always been supportive of her music–he had even called her when he saw the video–but he’s busy with his new family on Tarth and she cannot picture him hanging out in Qyburn’s to hear her play.

Brienne makes her way to the back, getting stopped by a few people in the crowd who congratulate her on the video or tell her “great show” with bright smiles and a nod, but she’s relieved when she arrives at the bar and signals Hodor for her usual. “I’ve got it,” the man next to her gestures to the bartender.

She’s surprised and surveys him out of the corner of her eye quickly before he turns towards her, flashing her a smile. The smile she would recognize anywhere. It’s dark and he’s wearing a baseball cap pulled low, but there are green eyes peeking out underneath the rim. Ohmygods. It can’t be.

“Jaime Lannister?” she asks, dumbfounded. Why would he bother? She remembers Sansa’s worries about the Kingslayers suing them and her stomach plummets. But why would they send him? They would send a team of lawyers instead.

“Shhh,” he presses a finger to his lips, his other hand falling to her wrist to quiet her.

“Oh my gods,” she replies, her tone muted. “It’s really you. What the fuck.” She covers her mouth with her hand, horrified she just cursed in front of her idol, but he laughs and some of the worry slips from her body. He has the most beautiful laugh. And he’s gorgeous. Not that she doubted he would be, but she can tell, even though his looks are tucked under a baseball cap and his body hidden by long sleeves. “I mean,” she tries again, knowing she’s beet red. “Thank you for coming?”

“Is that a question?” he winks at her and thankfully their drinks arrive, because she’s pretty sure she’s died or melted into the floor or something. It’s Jaime Lannister. Standing here. Talking to her like they’ve known each other for years.

“No, really, thank you. What the hell are you doing here?”

He grins and gods, he’s so fucking easy on the eyes it hurts. She feels like an awkward giant next to him and probably looks absolutely ridiculous in this eye makeup when she’s not on stage, but then he’s speaking and her brain stops freaking out so she can listen. “I saw the video, like the rest of the world. You’re good.”

“Thanks.” It’s such an automatic response, but she tries to let the simple praise infiltrate her many layers of defense. Tries to truly absorb that her favorite musician told her their band was good. “So has…did the whole band see it?”

“Of course. Addam’s the one who sent it to me.” He takes a sip of his beer before he turns his whole body towards her, leans in so close she can feel the heat from his skin. She feels dizzy and turned on and confused all at once. “The band is good,” he murmurs in her ear. “But you, you’re truly talented. You know that, right?” He draws back to gage her reaction and finds himself arrested by her eyes. The blue so deep it nearly matches the color of her guitar, the same blue of his mother’s wedding ring made of sapphires and rubies. Her eyes are steady. A calm in a stormy sea. “The guitar solo,” he nods up at the stage. “You’re better than I am. My brother would kill me for saying that, but it’s the truth.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admits. Brienne’s half convinced he’s lying, half wonders if he’s trying to get her to sleep with him or if he has some ulterior motive, but the way he’s smiling at her, the way his face softens whenever she talks, she doesn’t think so. He’s a millionaire. He doesn’t have to come to dank bars to see tribute bands play in order to get someone into bed with him. He seems genuine. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She’s nearly finished her beer and glances up to see if Hodor is nearby so she can order another.

“Let’s go outside,” Jaime suggests. “It’s too hard to talk in here. I want to get to know you, Brienne Tarth.” Her skin prickles with the heat of his voice saying her name. She follows him outside, half laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”

He holds the kitchen door open for her and there’s a cool breeze as they step outside. “I doubt that.”

#jaime x brienne #prompts #braime fanfiction #modern au #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth

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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years

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Chapter XX

A Kili X OC fanfic

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Tw: Mentions of blood, injury, poisoning etc. Description of poisoned blood. Mentions of death etc. Really little warning for once.

Sorry for the delay. If you hadn’t read yet; my tumblr is being difficult with tags so when I post, people won’t see it. I have emailed tumblr multiple times now and after four days I still haven’t had a response. So here’s the chapter anyway :)

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A long promised insight on Kili’s desperate attempts on trying to show Raewyn how much he cares

Now covered in warm blankets and fresh clothes, the company sat in Bard’s living room, their clothes drying by the fire. Raewyn sat on the floor in the corner, her back against Kili’s legs, who was on the chair behind her. The two were most shielded from the dwarves, giving the ranger the possibility to tend to her leg again.

Sigrid had been kind enough to offer her a dress, instead of a pair of trousers, so that the fabric would not scratch the wound as much as it otherwise would. And though the ends of the dress were visibly taller on the Asha than on the human girl, Raewyn had been grateful nonetheless. She had already asked the daughter to find some Kingsfoil, and - much to her luck - the girl had returned within a matter of minutes.

Tilda was busying herself with handing out blankets to the company, while Sigrid stood beside the two in the corner, her back to them as she observed the dwarves, making sure they would not get suspicious towards Raewyn. The ranger had made it obvious she did not want anyone else to find out about her current state, and Sigrid knew better than to disobey her orders. However they had been the guests, the girl could not deny the help Raewyn needed.

“It may not be the best fit, but it’ll keep you warm.” Raewyn heard Bard speak to the company.

“Thank you very much.” Bilbo thanked quietly, relishing in the warmth the blanket around him brought him.

“Kili, can you hand me those bandages?” Raewyn mumbled, her hands occupied with smearing the Kingsfoil over her wound. A sharp hiss escaped her mouth as her finger touched the nearly blackened skin around the cut.

“Rae?” Kili tried to offer, already leaning over.

“Please, Kili.” She interrupted, waving off his concern, her eyes still on the blood gushing from her leg, even as she tried to stop it.

A hesitant hum came from the said dwarf, but he handed her the bandages all the same. In one swift movement, the ranger grabbed the fabric, before retreating to her leg, her used bandages serving as a towel to make sure nothing spilled onto the floor.

From behind them, it appeared as if Balin was telling a story again, thankfully engrossing all dwarves into the tale. Kili took one quick look around, making sure no one was looking at them, even though Sigrid had been a loyal lookout this far.

When his eyes landed back on the woman in front of him, his eyes widened. Where a mere wound had decorated her skin earlier, countless black veins began walking from it, a darkened color around the place of impact, her blood turning even darker than it had been before. A gasp escaped his mouth as his hands gently laid on her shoulders, alerting her of his presence once more.

“Are you sure that won’t be a problem?” He dared to whisper.

“I have Kingsfoil,” Raewyn clarified in a hushed voice. “It will slow down the poisoning.”

“Will it be able to stop it as well?” The dwarf went on. The uncomfortable silence from her after his question was enough to answer his question.

“Is there anything we can do?” He tried out of desperation. “Other medicine? New bindings? Some sort of spell?”

“Gandalf could have helped.” Raewyn sighed, trying to wrap the new gauge around her wound. “But he is gone. And to where, I do not know. And the elves do not like us. They will not help us.”

“The elves of Rivendell, perhaps?” Kili offered again. “Could they help?”

“Where will you find Sindar elves in those parts that are not from the Woodland Realm?” The ranger countered, another hiss escaping her mouth as she tugged on the bandages. “I could send Farris out with a message, but they will never get here in time.”

“Time?” The dwarf repeated, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “How long do you have, then?”

A frown formed on the ranger’s face, the red already visible through her newly applied bandages.

“A fortnight, would I apply Kingsfoil every hour. But they do not have the amount I would need to last this long.” Raewyn sighed in defeat, referring to the inventory Bard held.

“So?” The dwarf whispered, swallowing harshly as he felt himself growing terrified at the possible answer.

The ranger huffed for a moment, coming to terms with reality. “Six days, maybe seven.” She uttered.

“Six days?” Kili repeated incredulously, his voice rising slightly.

“Shhh!” Raewyn shushed him, nudging his knee trying to quiet him. “Yes, six days. Farris would arrive in two, but the elves cannot make it to here in three nights.”

Kili nodded slowly, disappointment slowly overtaking him. “What will we do, then? We cannot sit by and watch it happen.”

“I’m afraid that would be the only option we have, Ki.” The Asha admitted. “I could have amputated my leg when we were still in Mirkwood, but the poison has already spread through the top of my leg, so we are beyond that now.”

Sigrid, who had been beside them the entire, could not help but intercept the conversation, leaning over them momentarily.

“I know this is not my conversation, but should you not tell the others?” She tried to offer.

“To do what?” Raewyn returned, a helpless look on her face. “It would cause nothing but more chaos and grief. They should focus on the mountain, and not me.”

“Should Bilbo not know?” Kili agreed with the girl. “I think he’d want to know.”

“Would I have to tell Bilbo, I’d have to tell Fili, and I cannot do that to either.” The ranger countered.

“But you could do that to me?” The dwarf argued.

“No,” Raewyn answered truthfully. “You simply caught me tending to my leg, you would have known either way.”

“You wouldn’t have told me otherwise?” He frowned.

All the ranger could answer with was a short shake of her head, her eyes now back on her leg as she hid the wound under the dress. “I could not have done that to you had it been anyone else who saw me. Kili, you must understand why. So keep this between us, please?”

“So I should just stand by as you go through your last days?” The dwarf objected. “And I should do nothing about it?”

“What is there to do, Kili?”

“I can take you to Rivendell.” He quickly spoke. “We can grab a boat here, and I will take you to Rivendell. Right now.”

The dwarf rose from his seat, Raewyn’s back now without support. Ignoring her stares, he knelt down beside her, clasping her hand in both of his.

“We can leave now and make it in time.”

“Kili…The mountain.” Raewyn pointed out in defeat.

“I don’t care.” He interrupted. “I will not aimlessly sit by whilst you waste your last days reclaiming a kingdom that you don’t even care for.”

“I don’t, but it is your home. You should not forget it as if it is a mere thing such as an old letter.” The ranger justified, looking at Sigrid to see if she was still listening. But it had appeared she was lost in a conversation of her own with her younger sister.

“What you don’t know, you can’t miss, right?” Kili pressed, a slight smile on his face.

Raewyn formed her lips in response, an almost sad smile displayed on her face, trying to mimic his. “I…I don’t know, Kili.” She admitted hesitantly. “We cannot leave them here. You least of all.”

“What is this?” Thorin suddenly asked, his voice louder than before.

Kili shot up at the sound immediately, thinking his uncle had heard their conversation. However, as he spotted the metal objects now displayed over the table, he let out a silent sigh of relief.

Raewyn stumbled up from behind him, using the chair Kili was earlier vacating as support.

“Pike-hook,” Bard began. “Made from an old harpoon.”

“And this?” Fili questioned, gesturing to one of the other objects.

“A crowbill, we call it.” The man answered. “Fashioned from a smithy’s hammer. It’s heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none.”

Shouts of disagreement and insult were tossed in the air. To prevent any upcoming questions, both Kili and Raewyn walked up to them, looking at the weapons on the table.

“You won’t find better outside the city armory. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key.” Bard countered, trying to silence the company.

“Thorin,” Balin called, gaining the king’s attention. “Why no take what’s been offered and go? I’ve made do with less; so have you. I say we leave now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” The man quickly interrupted.

“What did you say?” Dwalin boomed, now taking his stane in front of the taller Lakeman threateningly.

“There are spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in town. You must wait till nightfall.”

However discontent, the dwarves seemed to calm down under these words, taking their seat back onto the chairs and benches. With one empty chair left, Kili was quick to push the ranger in, leaving her with no room to argue.

Before either of them could even say anything, the younger daughter of Bard - Tilda - walked up to Raewyn, her eyes shifting between her and the door.

“Can I pet your owl?” She asked shyly, making Raewyn raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh, she wondered whose owl that was. I told her they belonged to you.” Bilbo remarked, having his seat close to Raewyn’s.

The Asha nodded in understanding, before turning back to the girl. “Yes, of course. Do not touch her wings, though. She tends to get protective of them.” She advised, before sending the girl on her way.

As her eyes followed Tilda running out the room, she noticed Bard whispering to his son. She nudged Kili’s shoulder lightly, nudging towards the two in the distance.

“What’s going on there?” The dwarf mumbled.

“No idea, but I do not like the way he glares at us.” She whispered back, making eye contact with him briefly, before the man took off, leaving the room as well.

“Do you think he’d turn us in?” Kili asked quietly.

“No,” Raewyn answered plainly.

“We are in his home. It would not look good for him.”

—

“What about that boat?” Kili whispered to Raewyn, gesturing towards one of the floating structures in the water.

Somehow, Raewyn had managed to get convinced of stealing weapons from the town archive. Bain had tried to stop the company, but - unfortunately - 13 dwarves were not so easily pushed over.

So now she and Kili had wandered at the back of the group, Bilbo and Fili in front of them, though both two at the back knew their talk went unheard by them.

“Kili, we are not leaving.” She spoke back, her voice equally hushed.

“Fili will be just fine on his own.”

“If Thorin did not hate me already, he most certainly would when we come back.” Raewyn protested.

“Firstly, I am sure Thorin does not hate you anymore.” Kili bargained. “And who says we have to come back?”

At those words, Raewyn looked towards the dwarf, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he slowed her steps down.

“Well, we-”

“You could show me that waterfall you told me about! In Eryn Vorn.” The dwarf continued, doing his best to convince the ranger, who was at loss for words.

“As soon as we have the weapons, we make straight for the mountain.” Thorin announced, alerting Kili and Raewyn that the group had stopped walking, and were now huddled together to keep their voices down.

“Go, go, go!” The leader ushered.

A pile of dwarves began to pile together high enough to reach the open window of the armory. Nori was the first to run up, urging the rest to follow him.

Bilbo, who was next in line, climbed up behind him, followed by Fili, and then Raewyn, who got up relatively easy. When she jumped through the window, Fili offered her an arm shortly, taking notice of her leg, even though it had not been that painful to begin with. But she did not have the heart to tell him.

When everyone was in, weapons began to get ripped off the walls. Raewyn remained close to Bilbo, who did his absolute best to duck from the swinging swords and axes.

“Hold your arms up.” Raewyn instructed, gently lowering two swords into them. “Is that okay?” She checked, making sure the hobbit could hold up the weight. But when his face turned to that of determination, she shot him a reassuring smile.

“Good.”

“Bilbo, look out!” One dwarf suddenly warned, but Gloin had already bumped into the hobbit, knocking the weapons to the floor, a loud clanging filling the air.

Raewyn’s eyes widened at the sight, already hearing the shouting outside.

“Run!” Dori yelled, already running downstairs.

The rest of the company followed him swiftly, weapons in hand, but they were stopped by two watchmen pointing pikes at them. Bilbo tried to grab a second sword, but other guards surrounded him too, pointing their spikes at him. Raewyn shoved him behind her quickly, covering his body with hers, before Kili did the exact same with her.

“Next time, I do the planning.”

——

The company was lead outside, to a square, where a crowd had already begun to form.

“What is the meaning of this?” Someone asked, a voice so booming and demanding that Raewyn could only assume that he was the Master of Laketown.

“We caught ‘em stealing weapons, sire.” The head of the guard announced.

“Ah,” He gasped. “Enemies of the state, then.”

“This is a bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was, sire.” A new voice advised, followed by the figure of a sleek-looking man. She was quick to recognize the voice of that of the man at the gates of Laketown, who had earlier threatened Bard.

“Hold your tongue,” Dwalin defended immediately, taking a step forward. “You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal! This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!”

The said dwarf now stepped forward as well, announcing his presence to the crowd, who all gasped and murmured at the revelation.

“We are the dwarves of Erebor!” Thorin called. “We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great day of old! Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North!”

The Master’s eyes widened at his words, obviously pleased with the speech of the dwarf. Multiple crowd members began to nod and hum in agreement.

“I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!” The dwarf continued.

Cheers and applause sounded throughout the square, and for once, Raewyn caught hope that they might actually make it. The Master looked towards the people in doubt, silently calculating his options.

“Death!” Bard’s voice sounded throughout the people, his figure emerging from the crowd. “That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all.”

Suddenly, the cheers ceased, anxious mumbled taking their place.

“You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain.” Thorin promised, trying to cancel out Bard’s cries. “You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!”

As if their minds were made up in a matter of seconds, shouts of excitement shot throughout the town. And once more, the Master looked on, now smiling and nodding at the turning events.

“Why should we take you for your word, aye?” The supposed assistant of the master taunted. “We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?”

Silence struck at once, the heavy question lingering in the air. Raewyn saw Bilbo’s hesitation, laying a hand on his shoulder with a smile.

“I will!” A third voice called out. “I, Raewyn Asha, Tolmiró; ranger of the west, Apprentice of the Grey Wizard and daughter of Raegon Asha of the Clan of Six, will vouch for him.”

Gasps filled the square as the ranger took a step forward, showing herself to the crowd and the town’s master. Disbelief was written on the Master’s face whilst his deputy frowned at the woman.

“Didn’t all Ashas die during the orc raid?” He tested.

“Not the one who knew how to hide.” Raewyn spoke confidently. “Though I like Thorin as much a I reckon you like me now, he holds true to his word. I have traveled with this company for months now, and I feel bold enough to tell you that you can trust him to keep to his promises.”

“All of you, listen to me! You must listen!” Bard protested loudly. “Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?”

Multiple people uttered in doubt, whilst some shouted no, supporting Bard’s cause.

“And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!”

Bard and Thorin came face to face, both staring at each other angrily. The crowd gets louder at the confrontation, which the Master takes as his queue to step forward.

“Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame.” He soothed, though malice was low on his tongue. “Let us not forget that it was Girion. Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!”

“It’s true, sire.” The servant of the Master shouted over the clamoring of the crowd. “We all know the story; Arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark.”

Bard looked visibly angry, and with good cause. He walked up to the king once more, who had taken a couple steps back.

“You have no right to enter that mountain!” He accused lowly.

“I have the only right.” Thorin seethed back.

The dwarf turned around to face the Master of Laketown, knowing his speech made quite the impression.

“I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?”

Anticipation settled in the air as the people stared at their master, desperate for that one definitive answer.

“What say you?”

The Master seemed to think about it for several seconds, taking quick looks to the shorter man beside him, who seemed to hold that ever-present, slimy grin. With one last look, he smiled at Thorin, pointing his finger at him.

“I say onto you….welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!”

——

Taglist: @errruvande @justnerdystuffs @spidergirla5 @chaoticpaintsplatter @fallenangeloflight @m-sterboggins @radbarbariancupcake @writingawaymylife @the-cranck-hobbit @deathofafangirl01

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crazy-loca-blog · 4 years

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Personal thoughts on… 2019 releases (Part I)

Note: As the title says, these are just personal opinions on Choices books and chapters. Of course, you may agree or disagree with them, I only use this platform to express my thoughts on what I read every week.

After dealing with a lot of work and stress (to the point I ended up being sick in bed for a few weeks and now after a few months I still haven’t fully recovered), I’m finally back!

I’ve been playing Choices for over two and a half years now, and I honestly can’t remember a busier year than 2019. We’ve had the chance to read over 30 books! So I wanted to take some time to give my personal opinion on these releases. As there are so many books to talk about, this will be a three-part post and I will also include current releases and books that were released during 2018 but were finished in 2019. The list is organized in alphabetical order and it doesn’t include the VIP Books (as I don’t have access to the feature) or the seasonal books (as I’ll talk about them in another post, after all of them have been fully released).

A Courtesan of Rome (November 14, 2018 - June 12, 2019): I have a feeling that ACOR was one book before the hiatus and a completely different book after the hiatus. At first I found the story interesting, but it wasn’t like I was waiting every week for a new chapter to be released (honestly, those “8 years ago in Gaoul” scenes killed my mood so, so badly during half of the book!). However, after the hiatus, things seemed to move faster and that caught my attention. Overall, I really liked this book and I enjoyed reading it. I have a soft spot for these MCs that are super smart, so I loved to see our badass girl using her beauty and her brain to reach her goals. The LIs were awesome, too. I don’t think it was one of those “They’re all so good, I don’t know which one to choose” situations, but it was nice to see how every LI represented a different point of view of the conflict, so kudos to the writers for it. Of course, after the final chapter it was pretty clear that we won’t be having a second book, but I’m not that sure if it was actually planned to be a series. Sad.

Across the Void (August 20, 2018 - May 13, 2019): This book has probably one of the best graphics in Choices… but it also has probably one of the worst plots and some of the most hated characters in the app. We got this nice MC whose only mission was to be the captain of a luxury spaceship in the middle of a civil war. Of course, we got caught in the middle of it. And what does our MC do? He/She throws parties so the passengers and the crew can relax! We also had these annoying siblings who didn’t even think about making our job easier, a male LI that we shared with our brother, a male LI that hid very important information from us (and we got to know about it at the end of the book), and a male LI that we barely saw in the book. Thank God for the female LIs in this book! On top of that, we had to choose if we supported the Jura or the Vanguard without even knowing what their role in this conflict was. Thankfully, the hiatus helped to improve things a little and the final chapters were way better than the first ones where nobody seemed to have clear what was going on with this war. Of course, the fact that we had a choice to kill our MC at the very end of the book means that there is no chance to have a second book, but I wouldn’t mind revisiting this era with a better story in the future.

America's Most Eligible: All Stars (January 16, 2019 - May 1, 2019): Have you noticed how reality shows that are pretty successful in the first season tend to become lame, boring and repetitive in subsequent seasons? That’s exactly what happened to me with AME. I enjoyed the first book, even though I don’t think it has super memorable characters and there is nothing like “wow” in the plot, following the story was easy and (don’t deny it, because you know it’s true) it definitely made our competitive side to blossom. But in Book 2, things became repetitive and boring. Sure, we got some new characters, such as Vince and Slater. Sure, it was nice to see Mack, Jen and some other familiar faces once again. But Carson continued being Carson, Ivy continued being Ivy, and Bianca was denied as a LI (again). So, overall, we got nothing new or refreshing in this book… and we ended it with a proposal? After dating out LI for like 2 months? We just didn’t need another wedding book.

America's Most Eligible: Wedding Edition (September 18, 2019 - Present): I seriously think the only reason why AME got a third book is because of us, the fans. The whole series has been about competitions and winning… and of course, we have to spend A LOT of diamonds to win. So I assume the first two books were very, very profitable for PB because of course, we all want to win. However, as we’ve learned this year, having a wedding book may actually end up “killing a series”, and AME is not the exception. From the moment that the writers turned our wedding special into a competition, I knew things were going to be weird. In my very personal case, having Slater in my party made no sense at all, because my MC has never trusted him, so they’ve never had a good relationship. Then, having to compete against Vince and Ivy, our biggest enemies in the competition is so… basic. I’m kind of tired of the dynamic with them… it’s been two books already. And then we have all these super weird storyline with Jen. I mean… how is it possible that she is the showrunner, but at the same time she is a contestant… or even our fiancée!?!? The only thing I may rescue so far is that finally all Bianca and Slater lovers got a chance to express their feelings (and I’m so waiting for drama if you reciprocate them!). But that’s all.

Baby Bump (December 9, 2019 - Present): I know this book is on the list of the “most hated books in 2019”, but for some reason I can’t explain, I still haven’t found anything that truly disgusts me about it (maybe I’m lowering my standards?). I know and I understand that some people feel uncomfortable because we didn’t have a chance to choose our baby’s dad, or because our baby’s dad acted like a total freak by proposing in the second chapter, but I have a feeling that things will improve, especially because our own MC seems to be a grounded person overall. Probably my main complaint goes to how some stuff seems to be repetitive from other books (besides those Big Sky Country vibes all over the place). I mean… why is the evil girl always a bitch? Why do we always have to choose between an insanely rich LI and another LI who’s not so wealthy? When did the MC, both LIs and Luisa become “a gang”? I know there are too many things that seem out of place now, but I have faith. It won’t become a masterpiece, but it won’t be a complete disaster either.

Bachelorette Party (July 18, 2019 - October 17, 2019): Humor, fun, romance, but above all, friendship. I really liked this book at the very beginning because it was a light story, but at some point I felt the writers ran out of ideas right in the middle of the story and started dragging things. They tried to add a more serious touch with the case plot (I even thought we would be having some plot twist as we did in the Perfect Match series), but I think they failed. I kept waiting forever to see a connection between the case and some characters such as Reed or Skip, as everyone seemed to be connected with it in some form, but that never happened. Also, we had Aisha, a trans character who most of us loved at first, but who became annoying after blaming everyone but her for losing the case and not telling the truth behind it (even when she knew we could have been killed she didn’t say the truth… come on, girl!). Finally, I missed our MC having her own self-healing plot after breaking up with her boyfriend/girlfriend… there were only mentions and a few questions about how we were feeling, but that was all. I would have loved to see our friends doing some things for us. At the end, I got a bittersweet feeling about it. I enjoyed the story overall, but there were so many things that could have been explored within the plot, that I’m not fully satisfied with the story.

Big Sky Country, Book 2 (July 27, 2019 - November 9, 2019): I never, ever in a million years would have thought that Big Sky Country would have a second book. Even though I love all these beautiful characters in the story, I thought the plot was pretty lame and boring overall. I can perfectly remember how criticized it was. So I was prepared to read the second book just because I had already finished the first one. But I’m soooo glad that PB proved me wrong here. Not only we had a second book that was much better than the first one, but we also got a story where the writers did a fantastic job trying to balance the screen time of all the LIs and they succeeded when trying to blend all the different plots in one single story. In my opinion, the weakest point of this book was actually the final chapter… Asha won, Clint died, and we became official and got engaged to our LI in like 10 minutes… it just felt too rushed for me.

Bloodbound, Book 2 (May 17, 2019 - August 30, 2019): Even though it’s not one of my personal favorites (and probably that’s why I don’t understand all the hype for it), if I had to choose between the first two books, the second one is the one I like the most. I feel a lot of things improved when compared to BB Book 1, but my special mention goes to Lily… she annoyed me so much in the first book, for some stupid reason I can’t explain, I barely could stand reading her lines… but she definitely grew (A LOT!) in the second book. Also, we were introduced to some new characters, such as Serafine or Nikhil (I’m pretty sure that there’s more about him that we don’t know yet). Sure we had some fantastic moments, such as the crossover with Nightbound (I hope to see more of it in Book 3) or discovering who was behind the Order. But there’s no doubt that my favorite part of this book was when the gang went to the Order headquarters and discovered that the only one who could access was the MC… realizing that the real power of our MC (at that point) was simply to be human, and not a vampire, blew my mind. That’s why I wasn’t rooting for her to become a vampire.

Bloodbound, Book 3 (November 9, 2019 - Present): One of the biggest complaints made by Choices players is that the writers seem to have problems trying to make a series attractive over time. We see unnecessary content that doesn’t add up to the plot, and a tendency to drag things in general. By the third book, people seem to be struggling with the series more than enjoying them. Well, this is not the case of Bloodbound. The series not only had its biggest plot twist by turning our MC into a vampire, but also we may notice the writers have not stopped to impress us. Of course, this book is the darkest one in the series, and after 6 chapters I still have so many questions… should we trust Rheya? Is she good or bad? What’s the real power of our MC given the fact that she’s also the bloodkeeper? Will our MC end up being the villain of the story? So far, I’m pretty happy with this book. If things will continue to be like this, I would LOVE to have a fourth book (especially if it’s said that this is the last book in the series).

Desire & Decorum, Book 2 (December 17, 2018 - April 8, 2019): Even though in my opinion this is the weakest book in the series, one of the things I value the most about it is how the writers managed to create this powerful MC in an era where women actually didn’t have much power and they were basically expected to get marry and obey their husbands. Of course, the whole plot where we were forced to marry Duke Richards was the main focus of the story, but seeing our girl standing up by herself, being helped by her friends and her true love, and saving the queen (and England) was an absolute pleasure. However, it wasn’t enough to fully convince me. The duel between Duke Richards and our LI, Duke Richards becoming Mr. Richards and getting arrested, and Briar’s happy ending are probably the best moments of the book, but even though I enjoyed it, it’s far from being one of my favorites.

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secondgenerationnerd · 4 years

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Not Just Me

Enjoy Bruce being yelled at!

Irey West never thought she’d be in this position. How could she? Sure, plenty of 19-year-olds get pregnant with a long-term partner, that’s not uncommon. But no 19-year-old expects their boyfriend to be killed by his clone. Or to wake up from a coma after being injured from the fight that got him killed, pregnant and alone. Yet here she is. Irey looks down, running a hand across her belly.

It’s still weird to see her normally small frame swollen around the middle. Weirder still to feel her daughter moving in her. She’s always eaten a lot, so the cravings are nothing out of the ordinary. She’s had a few mood swings, but nothing too extreme. If she could just get used to the movement, she might actually enjoy being pregnant. A small smile plays on her lips as the baby gives a sharp kick.

“You’ve got Baba’s kick.” Irey murmurs, rubbing her belly. She looks back at the photo album. Dinah Lance would be there soon for Irey’s therapy. Hopefully she’d bring Diana Prince with her. The two heroines and her mother have been her only real solace the two months. Accelerated pregnancy, grief, trauma. Great start to motherhood.

Irey traces the edge of a picture with her thumb. Damian smiles up at her, her younger self laughing in his arms. They’d been at the Wayne Lake house for a summer trip with their friends last year.

Irey closes her eyes. She can still feel the warm sunlight on her face, cool water on her skin. Damian’s laugh as he picked her up, jumping into the lake. The rush of bubbles around her. How he’d kissed her under the water. The feeling of his strong arms holding her that night, soft cotton sheets and his heartbeat lulling her to sleep. The perfect summer day. Irey can hear his voice, a little coo to pull her from her thoughts, “Nuri, you’re lost again. Come back to me. Come back.”

“Iris.” Irey opens her eyes and looks behind her. Damian’s gone. Bruce, Tim, Jason, and Dick all stand at the door. “May we speak with you?”

“I guess?” Irey pushes herself up off the couch. It’s strange to them to see her like this. They’ve all known her since she was a little kid. When did she grow up? When did the spunky kid with her dumb pigtails grow into the woman before them? Dick remembers her at age eight meeting his seven-year-old daughter, instant best friends. He also remembers pulling her off Damian the first time the two met. Now, she’s carrying his baby and he’s gone. So much has changed. They don’t remember her growing up.

The brothers share a look, no longer sure about their adopted father’s plan.

Bruce doesn’t hesitate.

“We think there’s a way to bring Damian back, but we need you.”

Irey’s immediately tense. Bruce’s plans always come at a cost. She instinctually holds the bottom of her belly, where her daughter’s head has moved to in the last week, ready to be born.

“Bruce—” Bruce ignores her weak protest.

“We believe there’s a way to use a plan you came up with a year or so ago.” Irey thinks she knows what he’s talking about, some stupid design she’d come up with when she was bored; but she doesn’t want to hear it. “We need your help with some of the technical portion.”

“Bruce, I can’t—”

“We have all the necessary equipment and—”

“Bruce! I said no!” Irey’s never snapped at Bruce before. He blinks as she continues, “I can’t do that! If it goes wrong, Asha could be hurt or worse!”

“Asha?” Tim tilts his head to the side.

“Damian really liked that name.” Irey holds the photo album a little tighter. Her throat tightens as she says his name. “We’d talked about having a family one day. We were going to get married.”

Bruce’s face changes at that thought. He’s never been fond of metahumans or aliens. When Mar’i had first come to Earth, it took him too long to really accept her. There was nothing he could do though. Damian and Irey, back when they first started dating, knew that Bruce would have issues with their relationship. They didn’t care. As long as they had each other, everything would be ok.

“Irey. Your child will grow up fatherless unless you help—”

“What if it doesn’t work, Bruce? Have you thought about that? When I did that design, the probability of it working was less than three percent. Blowing up in my face was somewhere around ninety-eight percent.” Her breathing quickens. “What if you go through all this shit and it doesn’t work?”

“Iris, if you ever loved him—”

“Bruce!” Jason cuts in. Too late. Irey swells with anger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her normal chirp becomes ice.

“I didn’t mean—” Bruce’s backtracking falls on deaf ears.

“You think I didn’t love him? That I still don’t? He was my lighting rod! Do you know what the fuck that means?! He was the only one that grounded me! I haven’t been able to breathe since he died! I keep feeling like I’m drowning and I’m never going to make it back to the top in time! He was the only person in this world that could make that feeling stop, just by walking into the room! He loved me as much as I love him! If you knew him at all, you’d never ask me to do this!”

“Irey.” Dick goes over, putting his hand on her shoulder. She pulls away from him. Tears blur her vision.

“Damian wanted a baby! He wanted to be a dad! He wanted to give our kids the childhood he never got! If we’d known I was pregnant before Heretic, he might still be alive! Maybe we’d be getting married or just getting ready for Asha, I don’t know, but I know for damn sure he’d hate you for even asking me to do this!”

“He was my son—”

“I know! But it’s not just me you’re putting in danger! You don’t get to take my daughter from me!”

Bruce tries one more time. “Iris—”

Dinah and Diana walk in to see Irey West throw the photo album at Bruce’s face. He hadn’t been expecting it and it hits him square in the face/. As he staggers backwards, Dick grabs Irey’s arms trying to pull her back from rushing at Bruce. More for his safety than his. Irey fights him, tears rolling down her face, throat ready to rip in half, “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!”

She screams at Bruce until Dinah and Diana force him and Damian’s brothers out. No matter what they say, Irey doesn’t stop screaming. Screaming at Bruce, at Heretic, at the aching in her chest, at the whole damn universe. Screaming for so long that she’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to breathe again.

Once the initial rage is gone, all that’s left is her broken pieces. Dinah and Diana help her to her room, helping her change into pajamas, tucking her into bed. Then, like everyone else lately, they leave her.

She curls up under the covers, arms wrapped around her belly, shaking in fear of someone hurting her baby. Asha kicks Irey again.

“It’s ok, Asha. Mama’s right here. I’m right here.” Irey whispers. “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you. No one’s gonna take you from me. Never. I promise. I promise.”

Irey squeezes her eyes shut. No one’s going to take her baby away from her. Not even Bruce Wayne.

#irey park west #damian wayne #damian's death #bruce wayne

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