#after he became Winter King he grew out of it and stopped caring because he's having a fantastic time now

[atwistedtalehq]

CHARACTER INFORMATION: 

```**CHARACTER NAME:** "Rapunzel". Born Princess Helene Alastair but No Body Knows That

**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** Samantha Logan

**CHARACTER AGE/DOB (if from enchanted forest, general age okay):** 21...ish. Born March 19.

**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** she/her; cis female; uhhhh she's been locked in a tower for 21 years and has seen two people most of her life and one was "Mother" and the other one was Flynn sooooooo... probably Bi let's be real all my characters are bi

**CHARACTER FANDOM:** Uhhhh Rapunzel fairy tale with influences from Tangled and the OG source material

**OC OR CANON:** Canon...ish???

**WHICH LAND ARE THEY FROM (examples: earth, enchanted forest, wonderland, monsterland [frankenstein, dracula, vamps etc], neverland):** Enchanted Forest

**CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY:**```

TW "PARENTAL" EMOTIONAL ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE, KIDNAPPING

- She has Magic Hair when she SINGS

- Her hair doesn't lose magic when it gets cut but it has to "Charge" in the sunlight like a solar panel but better. solar power take note.

- She was not born blonde but it fucking looks wild as shit when she sings and it starts to glow.

- Okay so once upon a time in a kingdom far far away (next to shrek's kingdom). The Queen grew very sick while pregnant with Rapunzel, and desperate to do anything to save his love, the King disguised himself as a peasant, went on a Journey against time to a deep forrest where an ancient old witch lived. He asked her for help. She offered to trade a golden flower for something he couldn't give — power. The witch wanted the King to become a puppet, and use his militia to do a Naughty thing and slaughter a kingdom she feels did her wrong centuries ago, the dramatique cunt.

- The old woman had been harvesting this special flower over and over again to keep her youth, biding her time for revenge....

- and well, The king basically told her to go fuck herself, and later that night, he hopped the fence like a degenerate, snatched the entire flower, and peaced out. He didn't harvest it correctly, leaving the witch without her juice to keep her young.

- The witch caught the king just as he made it over her fence, but didn't stop him...

- With the flower's help, the queen recovered, and gave birth to a wonderful baby girl with a mop of hair....

- The queen and the king rejoiced, so happy. the kingdom threw a festival with lanterns to celebrate. The daughter was named Helene Alastair, her first name meaning "shining light".

- and then the Witch snuck into the castle and stole the baby.

- As a bitch move, the Witch, now named Mother Gothel, renamed the baby Rapunzel, after some cabbage that had been growing next to the stupid magic flower that the King trampled over.

- She kept her secluded in a tall tower in the middle of the enchanted forest, and soon learned of her hair's magical properties. The incantation could be sung, and Mother Gothel, who was a little crazy after living for way too long, hypothesized that the hair must NEVER be cut.

- It was a bad life. Sure, Morher Gothel took care of the kid, coming and going with a rope until rapunzel could USE HER HAIR to lift her up the tower.

- Rapunzel was allowed to draw, and gained some artistic abilities.

- However, make no mistake, she was emotionally abused, gaslit, and taught to fear the outside world. Mother kept here there because the world was DANGEROUS and people wanted to abuse her and use her for her hair and blah blah blah

- Well, Rapunzel, while smart, was naive and raised under Mother Gothel's thumb, so how was she supposed to know???

- Mother Gothel isn't a fucking moron and told Rapunzel her birthday was in the dead of winter, so when she saw the Lanterns outside, she always associated it with the First day of Spring.

- And when she became 21... well, she finally grew a backbone. Somewhat. She wanted out, She wanted to see the floating lights. Her fucking hair was 70 feet long and with magic hair that doesn't get split ends it fucking SUCKED ASS -

- Mother Gothel left after and explosive fight, promising she would regret her words when she returned...

- and then a fucking thief climbed into her tower to run away from a couple of goons because he stole something and swindled his partners. bitch.

- Rapunzel, who had been taught to fear men, conked him on the head with a pan.

- Successfully incapacitating him, Rapunzel and the weirdo thief had a very odd conversation... And also she tied him up with her hair. Gross.

- Rapunzel has just managed to get him to promise to take her to see the floating lights, when Mother Gothel returns, demanding to be let up. Panic and chaos ensues as Rapunzel tries desperately to untangle herself from Flynn, literally, but she takes far too long.

- Mother Gothel uses the secret staircase she sealed with magic and storms up that way and when i say Shit hits the Fan

- Mother Gothel hurts Rapunzel, who, mind you, has absolutely no fighting skills. The only reason she got one over on Flynn is because she snuck up on him and got him with the cast iron. She's pulling rapunzel but her hair trying to finish the job of untangling them while screaming like a fucking Banshee. She threatens to keep her in chains for the rest of her life, to sell her to all those terrible people she told her about growing up - the nonexistent people who wanted to use her for her hair — and then Flynn gets the bright fucking idea to get out of there and slices through the hair to get the fuck OUT.

- Poor Flynn is lucky he doesn't die, bc Mother Gothel is furious, still believing her hair's magic not working if you cut it... and she's about to poke out his eyes.

- Listen, she thinks Flynn is a fucking weirdo, but she's not about to let some Bellatrix Lestrange-Lite bitch dk something so awful. In an act of defiance, she slices off the rest of it, screaming that now no one can have what they want.

- Mother Gothel rounds on her "daughter" again, and lunges. Rapunzel jerks out of the way, tripping over her fucking thick seventy foot ponytail. The action makes Gothel trip too, and soon they're struggling on the ground.... Rapunzel never realized how much resentment she had for her mother, and now she seemed so frail... literally, she was aging by the minute, black hair going grey, wrinkles setting in...

- Rapunzel beat the ever living fuck out of Gothel, using Gothel's deteriorating strength against her, before they careened into the window ledge... and down Mother Gothel fell, turning to dust just before she hit the ground.

- Numb to what she had done, she just stared for a long minute.... before turning to look at the man in her tower with tears in her eyes.

- And then, the curse struck, taking Rapunzel away.

- In Storybrooke, she was one of those people that were going ti get a true crime podcast given to her. Locked up until some random burglar broke in and all hell broke loose. Rapunzel killed her mother, everyone knew that...

- It's just no one knew what to actually believe. The "burglar" wasn't there, having disappeared (or been left behind??) and wasn't there to testify. People found this girl with no real name, no real family, and a dead old woman she claimed to be her mother.

- She spent most of her 28 years in limbo, between processing of whether or not they were going to put her in an institution, put her on trial for murder, or acquit her for manslaughter in self defense. it was horrible, anxiety inducing, and she still didn't know anything about the world.

- Plus, whenever she went to the grocery store, people would give you that look that's like _oh my god she's the one that murdered a person!_

- And the curse broke... and everything came flooding back. And Rapunzel doesn't understand what she's supposed to do about any of this. Her "life" here was fake, and her life back at "home" was a tower. Who was she? Where did Mother Gothel take her from? And how is she supposed to find out any of those questions when she's stuck in Storybrooke?

OOC INFORMATION: 

MUN NAME/ALIAS: Love

MUN AGE: 26

MUN PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers

#rapunzel app #accepted

[myonepiece]

Law, Luffy, Zoro headcanon- he is at your execution, but you react to the situation like Gol D. Roger then escape yourself

•~•~•~•~

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death, EMO

Also feel free to change any of the “last words” quotes

Ztgsfdkzjdb this was so fun to imagine

Also I’ll make this with other characters too!

Law

•The salty smell of the sea was carried through Loguetown and whipped your hair around as you turned the corner

•You started walking down the isle with your hands in shackles, surrounded by marines

•You heald your head high as you strutted through the parted crowd

•You had no regrets of taking their lives, you felt pride knowing that you were such a threat that you were to be executed the same way Gol D. Roger had been

•One foot in front of the other, you smirked as your eyes scanned the crowds’ faces- finding fear, anger, amazement, and sorrow as they watched you being walked to your “death”

•As you stood on top of the platform, you looked into distance with a contempt look that only made the marines and citizens angrier yet fearful that you showed no sign of terror- it was as if you didn’t know you were being executed

“Any last words” the marine next to you asked

•You glanced at him then back at the crowd smiling your infamous grin as you said,

“It’s a fine day for bloodshed”

•You watched the look of fear wash over the faces of those watching, then you jumped and kicked the marines off of the platform

•You kicked up one of their swords and broke your shackles, then into the crowd you jumped slicing as many throats as you could get to as you sprinted towards the docks

Law’s Reaction~~

•He was watching from the docks

•He was watching the love of his life being led to their death, hoping that some miracle would happen that landed you safely back in his arms

•He knew he couldn’t take all of the thousands of marines that were there making sure your execution was carried out

•As much as Law had argued with his crew to save you, they explained there was nothing they could do

•Law felt part of his heart begin to die as another person he cared about approaching their death

•The one thing he couldn’t get out of his mind, was the resemblance you showed to the Pirate King

•You had no fear on your face, only pride

•You had always showed in incredible resemblance to Roger, so much that Law thought you to be his kid at first

•Law listened to your last words and let the tears escape, even in your last moments you were a violent pirate, that he had somehow come to admire and love with all his broken heart

•But as he watched you take down the marines and free yourself, he realized that was why he loved you- your unwavering pride and bloodlust that drove you to your success and constant return to him

•The crowd thrown into panick and he lost sight of you as dust and gunpowder filled the air that was now laced with screams

•As you emerged from the smoke with blood smeared across your face and dripping from your swords, Law realized that he didn’t deserve you, you deserved a king with as much strength as you, but what he didn’t know was that he was the only king you saw fit to hold your heart

Luffy

•It was a spring morning, it couldn’t have been better weather for your execution day

•You took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar smell of sea air mixed with flowers, then you were led into the sunlight and the sound of boos mixed with cheers filled the air

•You grinned at the parted crowd as the marines walked you forward closer to the execution platform that your idol had died on

•You looked at the different types of flowers that littered the shop fronts and ground

•You felt pride in your chest as you thought of the victories that had gotten you to this moment

•All the deaths were worth it and you felt no remorse

•The crowd was varied- some had looks of disgust, some had sorrow, terror, anger, awe, excitement

•You smiled at the kids peeking from behind their parents, it was a smile the world knew all too well, one that always ended in blood

•The closer you got to the platform the more your heart beat with excitement, you would finally see the view that the pirate king had, you had to remember it so you could tell Luffy about it once you were back to him

•You looked out at the crowd with your eyes full of pride and joy, with a hidden layer of violence

“Last words” the marine said

“You should really stop asking for last words, I could’ve killed 10 men while you asked that. But now I’ll kill 100”

•And with that you knocked your head into the marine’s and kicked the other one off the platform

•The crowd erupted into screams as you leaped down, breaking your shackles on the way, and snatched the swords from the dead marines

•You counted down 100 lives as you ran through the crowd dodging bullets towards the docks

Luffy’s Reaction

•Luffy felt like his heart was being ripped apart as he watched the woman he loves being walked to her death

•The whole strawhat crew had to hold him back and explain to him that they would all die if they ran in to save you

•Tears were streaming down his cheeks while Chopper, Sanji, Usopp, and Nami sobbed into each other’s shirts with Robin in background quietly crying as her friend neared the end

•Zoro stood by Luffy holding the back of his shirt in case he tried something- although Zoro knew he wouldn’t completely stop Luffy if he did

•Luffy had planned for you to be his queen, in every dream he had of his victory, you were right by his side

•Mixed with the harrowing sadness and guilt that he felt, there was a hint of pride that you were meeting the same fate that his idol, Gol D. Roger, had met

•What especially intrigued Luffy, was the pride and unwavering grin that you wore across your face- the resemblance to Roger was uncanny

•As you stood on the platform, Luffy’s tears quickened- he would give anything to have you back with him and his arms wrapped multiple times around you

•But the whole crew froze as you proudly said your “last words” then leaped into the battle

•Luffy watched as splashes of blood flew into the air and screams rang throughout Loguetown, the dust covered you from sight and the crew leaned over railing trying to see you

•As you emerged from the smoke with your clothes soaked with blood and the terrifying grin that Luffy loves so much, they cheered

•And as Luffy watched you run towards them, he knew he had made the right choice to make you his queen, he realized that becoming pirate king wasn’t his only dream anymore, he now dreamed of spending the rest of his life with you

Zoro

•The winter wind nipped at your nose as you watched the sun begin to set

•You stepped out into the pathway separating the crowd, with your hands shackled and a group of marines leading you forward to the execution platform

•You held your head high with pride, having such a big execution gave your ego a boost

•You had no regrets, only pride, and you weren’t going to fake sympathy or guilt for the families of your victims

•Walked with pne foot in front of the other and smirked down at the kids who watched you in awe

•The crowd wore expressiones of fear, sadness, joy, disgust, and confusion- most likely wondering why you showed no sign of terror

•Your hair whipped around you as you climbed the the platform and looked out at the same view the Pirate King had seen

•The pride you felt just grew as the marines took their place beside you

“Any last words”

You kept your eyes on the crowd as you smirked and replied “I won’t be killed by a mere marine, enjoy the show”

•You kicked the marines off the platform easily and ran down into the crowd taking a sword with you

•After freeing your hands, you unleashed the force of your violence that had earned you your name

Zoro’s Reaction

•Zoro’s tough exterior cracked when he saw the marines walk you down the isle

•He let the tears slowly fall down his cheeks while the rest of the crew sobbed into his clothes

•He had fought with them because he, Luffy, and Sanji wanted to go in and save you- but deep down they all knew it wouldn’t do any good

•He thought back to all of the times you and sparred with him, watched him train, cheered him on during battles, and napped with him

•Oh how he would miss your naps, the moments he thought of spending every moment of every day with you for the rest of his life

•But now he couldn’t, you wouldn’t be there the day he became the greatest swordsman like the two of you had always planned, even though with you at his side he already felt like he was the greatest

•He would show no mercy in his future fights against the marines

•Zoro snapped back to reality and noticed the resemblance between you.. and the first Pirate King

•Your face showed no fear, you held your head up with pride, the pride he admired so much

•He was proud of you for showing no fear, and proud of the resemblance you held to the greatest pirate

•He watched as you climbed the platform, his heart breaking with every step

•But as you stood on the platform awaiting your execution, he realized that you had no plan of dying

•That gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, your pride and thirst for blood would safely return you to his arms- and that wish came true

•The second he heard your “last words” he knew you would be napping on his chest in just a few moments

•The strawhat crew watched in awe as you tore threw the crowd with astounding skills and grace

•As Zoro saw you emerge from the smoke and gunpowder filled cloud that blocked the sight of the Loguetown town square, he knew that you wouldn’t be leaving him, that you be there to see him become the greatest swordsman and be there at every victory after that- and he’d be dead before he let you get taken away from him again

#one piece #one piece headcanon #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #law imagine #law scenario #law headcanon #law x reader #law one piece #luffy headcanon #luffy scenario #luffy imagine #one piece luffy #luffy x reader #zoro scenario #zoro headcanon #zoro imagine #one piece zoro #zoro x reader

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

warnings: quick mentions of minor character deaths, A/B/O dynamics

Chapter 1: No longer children

The nights in the outskirts were loud, filled with crickets, and nature! The smell of the woods is all she'd ever known, her mom was exiled from the pack when she was pregnant with her, but only a select few knew of her existence. Those who did, protected her mom out of respect. She was kind and strong, she brought her daughter up on her own in a harsh, and desolate part of the woods. Still within pack territory, but at least an hour journey on car. Following the waterfall all the way to the bottom creek where the water came to a halt, and the cascade fell into a peaceful flow, That’s where she called home. There was only just an abandoned hunting cabin back then, but her mom rebuilt it with bloodshed, and tears. For a long time she managed on her own!

Winnifred Barnes was a kind woman, the only other person she'd ever known, Winnifred was a beta from the same village her mother came from. Every so often she would sneak out of the village, and travel down unto the creek with supplies, and fresh bread to deliver to them. She barely saw her, but her favorite memories involved her. She had a son, his name Was James, but he hated being called James. He went by Bucky.

~15 years ago~

“Here fishy fishy, I’m a friend” she'd had taken out a fish trap to the creek and spent the entirety of the morning watching fish just swim by her feet as they neatly avoided the trap she'd set up “ fishy, fishy please come “ she'd sighed in frustration! Whenever her mom came to the river, she made it look so effortless. She would just sing, and it was like animals wanted to be surrounded by her presence! It never took long for them to catch dinner and return home. “ Maybe it's because you're scaring the fish away with all the talking and paddling your making!” Bucky said with a smirk!

~flashback end~

Looking back, that was her first memory of Bucky. He was older than her. Maybe 12 at the time. He didn't let that stop him from being her friend. He taught her to fish that day! She went home with three small trouts and some catfish. she was stoked to show her mom the progress she'd made! She knew her mother often worried about her. She was alone, but Bucky brought a spark of life and joy into her life, she couldn't quite comprehend.

Years went by like that! She saw Bucky almost every week! He taught her everything she knew now!

They hunted together! Fished! Started fires!

They could spend hours around the woods within their own imaginations. She'd pretend that the king of the forest had kidnapped her, and hide! Bucky would use his tracking skills to find her! He was always the knight in shining armor, and they'd be gone for hours within our own world. As she grew older, she knew his interests would one day shift!

They stopped playing like kids, his body began to change, and her body did too. She no longer imagined the trees were magical , and she was a princess! Bucky no longer was the knight to the rescue! The world started to become more real, and her childlike imagination faded! Along with her favorite memories of Bucky.

It was the day of her tenth birthday! Winnifred showed up with a delicious tart, she was so exited when she heard her voice from across the cabin, her little heart nearly burst with excitement as she raced to meet her. Her happiness faced as she noticed Bucky was not with her! He hadn't come!

He had presented an alpha! He had officially grown up and had a different mindset now, he'd have duties and would soon start his own life. His days without responsibilities were over, He had a new life and had to to help take care of a pack now!

She had cried all day that day, her mom could tell she was inconsolable! Once again she was alone! Her only friend was gone, and it was just the two of them once again! She knew Bucky wasn't dead, but as the years went on without him it was like she was dead to him!

They saw Winnifred one a month at least, sometimes Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister was with her. As Rebecca grew she too presented! She was a beautiful beta, it didn't take long for her to find a role and love within the pack.

Two years after Bucky stopped visiting had passed, and she was once again alone! She didn't know much about the people from the village, but Rebecca painted beautiful stories with her words about her friends and the guy she wanted to be mated to.

She used to fall asleep to her stories, and would imagine what they were all like! How Bucky was doing? what if she was there? What did being in love feel like?

Secluded from the world she loved books! They were her escape into any world she could wanna be in. As she grew older hunting became less fun, and more of a necessity! Her mother was growing older and weaker, she could see the strain that household tasks did to her body. She no longer sang when she cooked, the piano she used to play sat in the corner untouched, only collecting small specks of dust. Her life, just seemed monotone to her. Wake up, live, repeat! it was like she gave up living, while still being very alive! Losing a mate would often take a physical toll on the body, as well as an emotional one. She had noticed that when her mom lost her Pa, she lost half of herself along with him! She tried to be strong, but without a bond your body starts to become frail! Winnifred said her mother used to light the whole pack with her smile and kindness! She was so beautiful there wasn't a day she didn't have fresh flowers from prospects at her door, and that was long before she presented a as a beta.

She began to take responsibility for housework, gardening, and making sure there was protein on the table. In our household nothing went to waste! We used furs for shoes and clothing, Winnifred had been kind enough to donate us her old sewing machine once she was able to afford a new one.

Coming home from the lake after a long day of fishing, she tucked her old leather boots near the door. They were a couple of seasons old and needed to be reinforced with a new leather, but they were the best she could do with the nearly approaching winter season. Tossing the bucket full of freshly caught trout on the kitchen sink. She took the scales and bones out before neatly placing the fish on the freezer. It wasn't much, but it was enough to last through the harshest part of winter season. They still had a few months to prepare, but she didn't want to be caught off guard. Hunting big game was next on the list, they'd have enough to get them safely though.

After dinner they sat down near the fire! Her mom reminisced about her friends when she was young, and her father. Specially how much she loved him! You knew he was a good man, but it was no secret he had a temper, and a hard time taking orders. It was because of him you guys were banished! Her mom never wanted to talk about what happened, or how he died! She knew it must've been something bad. Despite everything they were lucky to be allowed within pack territory. Being outside a marked territory was very dangerous, and not many could survive the cruel nomad packs that would kill, steal, and rape any wondering females outside of a protected territory.

That night as she laid in her small bed. She looked to my side to see a hoodie. It was so small now! It used to belong to Bucky. She vividly remembered him giving it to her! One day, it got too dark, too soon! The walk back to the small cabin became straining to her small body. Bucky offered his hoodie to provide an extra layer of warmth. It still smelled like him! He smelled of pine and firewood with hints of fresh morning rain, his scent was comforting! Still to this day she couldn't let go of the thought of him.

Little did she know that would be the last time she saw Bucky!

That flashback brought her comfort, and soon sleep overcame her. Waking up the next morning felt as if she'd hunted an entire season, and hadn’t rested a second. Her hips were screamed for her to stay in bed longer, head spinning, and fluttering stomach, she pushed it all aside! She rose up to get herself some water, the thought of a nice warm tea with some fruits and maybe some nuts already alleviated her body, and caused her to salivate at the thought of relief.

As she walked into the kitchen to see her mothers usually tender eyes, She saw the opposite! Her mothers tender smile and eyes had fallen! Her eyes became filled with tears as she dropped her mug. Ignoring her aching body, she ran to comfort her in a hug! She hadn't seen her mother cry often, but at this very moment she sobbed, and looked at her in disbelief! It wasn’t tears of pride, it was pain that filled her words. She knew it was coming! They had hoped when the day came, she'd present as a beta, just like her mother! Her mother was apologizing with her soft sobs and tears. She had brought an omega into the world, the implications of being an omega without status or protection meant that a bad heat could kill her! Or a wandering cruel alpha could hurt her and claim her if I wasn’t careful.

This changed everything! She was an omega!

Bucky Barnes POV:

Bucky stepped out of his pickup truck. His hair was getting too long to handle, but he hadn’t had the time to get it cut. He had been away from the pack for what felt too long. He missed his mother’s cooking and the mead that Natasha's pub brewed fresh every morning. He couldn’t wait to shower, and become one with his bed.

Steve had entrusted him with a supply run for winter. Blankets, medicine, extra food and anything that could be used to fix an electric grid in case the power went out like the last few times. The village was nowhere near desolate or old, but the decline in births and the battles against other packs had left their village vulnerable.

Steve was his best friend! he had inherited the title of the pack leader from his father. He was caring, and would do anything in his power to keep his pack safe and prevailing! Bucky was only a year older than Steve! Growing up with him was the best childhood he could ever imagine. Steve’s father wasn’t as kind as forgiving as Steve was! Steve would often fall victim to his fathers outburst. His father needed a strong healthy Alpha heir, and Steve was small and often sickly.

His dad often reminded him he would never be a leader, and he probably wouldn’t make it past his fist designation season. When his father died ten years ago, little did he know that in only one summer that boy would tower over the pack at 6’5 and had the strongest and most intimidating glare a leader could have! What made him a leader was he had the heart, he was still that scrawny little kid on the inside, but with a giant heart.

Steve had fallen into his role as an alpha so naturally. He made sure everyone was taken care of! He took care of the widows! He made sure that the sacrifices their husbands made to protect the pack wouldn’t be in vain! He’d deliver wood and food from those supply runs Bucky would often make before every winter season. Steve and him were also 2 of the 4 teachers in the village. Wanda and Sam would take turns with the students as they tended to their own families as well. But Bucky knew that Steve was in a hard position, omegas were becoming rarer and rarer. The few omegas in the pack were already mated long before Steve presented. And the few unmated betas had difficulty getting pregnant. Less than 20 kids had been worn in the last 15 years, and that worried Steve! Their pack was declining in numbers and was soon gonna become vulnerable to invasion.

Bucky was grateful that his role as Steve’s right hand man was less straining than Steve’s. He was more of a warrior than a leader. He patrolled, and defended the pack from intrusions. He was the best hunter the pack had. Steve teased him about never crossing his way when he was on a mood, but he just loved the woods. He liked the calm! It reminded him of a simpler time, a time with her! He often wondered, how she was doing?

After he presented he had to leave behind all those childhood memories, it often hurt him to think of her. She was special, and kind. She must’ve been so hurt when he stopped coming over. When his mom first made him come with her to the outskirts to visit a friend, he had been so angry at his mom for not letting him stay over at Steve’s.

Seeing her near that creek trying to lure fish in by talking to them, he knew he’d never be the same! He assumed the role of a mentor in her life. He's spent years teaching her how to hunt and fish, and the best ways to start a fire, they even competed on who could hunt the biggest game. She was a little less than half his age, but she had a fire to her. They were equal in the woods and you couldn’t tell her otherwise.

Then one night they hunted for too long! Night came, the sky opened up to rain, the temperatures dropped; he could tell she was starting to grow tired. The hair around her face became wet, and her lips were quivering. She smelled different than she usually did, It was delicious and intriguing to him! She smelled of coconut and honey, but with small delicious hints of lavender.

He couldn’t pinpoint why he was able to smell her that night, but after driving home he was met with waves of pain and rage. Like he needed to run away, and stay locked in at the same time! That night he presented as an alpha! He realized the world smelled different now and everyone had a distinct smell. But nothing or no one has yet to ever smell as good as she did that night. He was scared of himself; he was an adult alpha now.

Looking back on the memories of her, he thought she’d probably be a lot older now. She probably wouldn’t even remember him. He was not a 16 year old boy anymore he had the battle scars and beard to prove it.

After delivering the supplies around the village and finishing his patrol, he drove home! His house wasn’t fancy or big, it was enough for him to just lay down, and occasionally read or watch some tv.As he pulled up into his muddy driveway, he saw his mom's car, it wasn’t weird for him that his mom was in his house. She often came around to do some cleaning, and drop off some warm food for him when she knew he’d be back from a long day.

When he entered his home there were two scents, his moms, and a scent he hadn’t smelled in ten years. It was her mom, but what was she doing here in his house with a look of pain on her face? Winnifred motioned him to sit down! Her mother looked older, she’d grown weaker since he last saw her. She also smelled different, but it wasn’t her smell! He could scent her, her smell was mixed with her mother’s, but still ever so lovely and potent. There was something scaring him about your smell though.

As to confirm his suspicions his mom met his confused gaze, and confirmed what he already suspected from that hint of her lingering smell. Bucky could barely breath, he felt like he'd received a punch to his gut.

She’d presented!

She was an omega!

He had to let Steve know! It was his duty to let Steve know of this omega, she could save the pack. She was the first unmated and fertile omega in the pack in the last 25 years. To keep her hidden would be a crime against the pack. Steve needed her, he deserved to have this happiness.

Then why did it hurt Bucky so much to give up this Omega?

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza

#alpha/beta/omega verse #bucky barnes x reader #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha Bucky x omega reader #steve rogers x reader #omega reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #alpha steve rogers #alpha bucky #bucky barnes must be protected #protective bucky #protective steve

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from acogs: agathon

been a while since yall have seen acogs content, hm? this has to be one of my favorite pieces of it, certainly one of my favorite backstory pieces. i'm so endlessly proud of this part and i just. ahhhh. please enjoy nikolai's innocent childhood bisexual love <3

wc 2100

When Nikolai was ten, he met a boy.

He had brown skin and golden eyes, and the wonder in them could’ve only been matched by Nikolai’s own. His hair never seemed to lie smooth, no matter how much he pushed it down, contrary to Nikolai’s, which always stuck flat to his head and forced his tickly bangs into his eyes. It still does.

He carried the sun around with him, captured pieces of it in his eyes, infused its warmth into everything he touched. Nikolai heard the sun in his laugh, saw it reflected in his smile. In his confused, cagey, ten year old heart, he understood he was around something special.

Agathon, that was his name. Agathon. So smoothly it rolled off the tongue.

He and his family, all seven of them, arrived in Nikolai’s town with their canvas covered wagon, their camels—this was when Windcarpets were less trusted than they are now—and right into Nikolai’s heart. They came from a remote village on the Urkon-Cairic border, a family who made their living from weaving rugs and clothes.

Nikolai was interested in them the day he saw them, but he always thought they paled in comparison to Agathon. His parents were kind to Nikolai, always offered him honey cakes and tea when he visited, and Agathon’s siblings shared their toys. Agathon’s eldest sister taught him to play the lute.

But Agathon…oh, Agathon.

Agathon took to Nikolai immediately. His first words to him were, “You have spots on your face!” which Nikolai later understood to be the light smattering of freckles that appear across his nose in the summertime, put there by the sun.

He and Agathon spent their days talking about everything and nothing, as ten year olds did, racing each other through the long grass to the west of their desert town. Where the Pelia ended on the north side, at the edge of the village, they would drink and dip their feet and shriek when the water was too cold.

In the winter, on the rare days when the cold rains came and they all had to go inside, Nikolai would beg his mother to let him stay at Agathon’s house until she gave in. The two of them slept side by side under layers of fur that only got used once a year, for occasions like this.

Agathon’s father would read them stories by the fire. Nikolai’s house didn’t have a fireplace, and he was always fascinated by this one. Those were the soundest nights of sleep he ever had, his head nearly buried under fur with Agathon’s hair in his face, his father’s soft voice lulling him to sleep. Nikolai took to calling him Father for a while.

Nikolai rapidly felt himself falling into something he was too young to know. All he understood was that his chest seemed to be expanding every day, a little more, filled with a little more sunlight and warmth every time Agathon laughed at one of his jokes.

Nikolai didn’t ever want to say goodbye to him at the end of the day, he wanted to stay for dinner and stay in Agathon’s room, sleeping on the floor by the fireplace if it was too hot for the furs. They would stay up all night talking and waiting restlessly for morning to come, where they could wander farther than their parents knew and would’ve never let them go had they known.

His mother never invited Agathon to their house, but that was okay. Nikolai didn’t want her sourness, her constant scolding bringing darkness to the light in his chest. One touch of Agathon’s hand and he swore he could fly into the very sun that beat down on them every day.

Nikolai once pressed his lips to Agathon’s cheek on impulse, no self-restraint so young, and he remembers the swoop in his stomach before Agathon turned his head and smiled at him with all the warmth in the world. Nikolai didn’t know what it meant, but he knew enough to sigh in relief and accept it when Agathon grabbed his hand. They ran through the grass field together that day, instead of a race.

And then, like most things in his life, his mother ruined everything.

That’s not something he realized until he was much older and she was dead. Hell, even recently, thanks to Katya, he’s been examining her ghost differently. Agathon was the first in many, many incidents she stripped away his privacy, his privileges, down to the way he thought about himself and his desires. Everything became about pleasing her just enough to keep her off his back.

Nikolai had been working up the nerve to tell Agathon how he felt for a few months, because even then he knew that sort of thing wasn’t always met kindly, when his mother broke the news. They were moving, going north to the capital city Thiria, leaving the town he’d lived in his whole life. Agathon wasn’t coming with them.

It would take a year, his mother said, but she would establish herself and her ideas enough to get her son elected by the community as queen. Nikolai had never had a day of sword training in his life, he couldn’t be a king, a fighter, but he had a silver tongue. He would be a queen.

The clever system of choosing queens and kings in every Actium country puts a pressure on the person to be worthy of the throne. If they are both a good diplomat and a good fighter, they choose whichever label they like best. If they are neither, they should not be on the throne. How simple.

After he’d be elected, his mother would buy herself all the fine clothes and indulge in all the food and get all the attention she’d lacked in her lonely life. Nikolai was merely an instrument. Which is exactly what happened.

It’s an accident that as he grew up in the throne, he started to care about Urkon and the people who brought their problems to him every day. When he learned about the ticking time bomb in his front yard, the one that wouldn’t ever explode but always had a small chance, he breathed through it and went on.

He grinned and bore the knowledge, at eleven, twelve, thirteen, that Urkon was so much more than his little western village and Agathon’s old home. He dealt with farmers who needed a land dispute settled, ambassadors from the west and east and north, he had servants waiting on him, silk and velvet, stuffy city air.

He goggled at just how much his mother didn’t care, but how much effort she put into pretending.

He has risen from nothing, as they all do, to luxury and power, bringing with him an unconscious air of the inexplicable magic that stems from the Staarenclock. From the cerulean diadem that drips from his hair while he sprawls on his throne, to the shining black paint on his fingernails, to the jewelry that rests on his neck, he attracts, he seduces, disappoints.

He’s never tried, and until he was queen, he never noticed. When he did, it became a tool to sate his momentary desires, a temporary fix for his long term ache, a way of fooling people. No one believes a pretty queen is capable of anything.

Good.

Nikolai doesn’t remember much from after his mother’s bombshell announcement, which is partly good. It’s a lot of gaps in numbness and anger he can never get back, and she’s not around to fill in the details. He remembers holding back tears so many times with Agathon, not wanting to ruin their last precious weeks together.

Nikolai went kicking and screaming. He doesn’t want to know how he looked to the villagers, to Agathon’s family. He remembers the tears running down Agathon’s face, the gold fading at long last from his sunshine eyes. Nikolai’s mother was dragging him away, he was no longer close enough to touch him and shudder through the warmth seeping into his skin. Just the knowledge that he no longer could made him ache for it all the more.

Agathon was screaming for him, too. The pair of them must’ve been the most dramatic thing the townsfolk had ever seen, acting like they were dying. Nikolai remembers the agony on Agathon’s mother’s face, the effort it was taking her to hold her son back from running to Nikolai again. He broke free anyway, sprinting toward Nikolai and tripping over himself.

They were locked in each other’s arms for one last time, ugly crying into each other’s shoulders. “I love you,” Nikolai said, as he had seen Agathon’s parents tell each other while they cooked side by side, laughed, shoved each other playfully when bickering. He knew it meant something. He knew it meant everything.

His mother picked him up and carried him on her shoulder the rest of the way, but he watched Agathon mouth it back.

He only had a year with Agathon, but being ripped away from him was like reaching into his chest and pulling out an artery. He had never known pain like that. He told his mother over and over that first year when she was working her way up in Thiria that his heart wouldn’t stop hurting, he missed home, he wanted to go back.

Of course, he didn’t miss the town that much. Thiria was intimidating, but there was so much to do, always something to occupy him. The one thing he missed more than anything in the world was Agathon and his sunshine smile.

As a child, his feelings were so much rawer. He didn’t bother repressing them because he didn’t know how yet, and his mother wasn’t deep enough yet in her madness to teach him to.

Two years later, when he was queen with his mother the real queen behind him, while he tried and failed every day to buck off her hold, he met Saige.

He had forgotten and moved on from Agathon somewhat, of course. He learned from both his mother and practicality that he couldn’t spend all day crying in bed and begging to go back, threatening to steal a camel or a Windcarpet when he got truly desperate. Agathon wasn’t in his head every moment of every day, but he took one look at Saige and it all came back.

The day he met her, he had heard nothing about her but the king who had been put through hell and needed no one but her war of vengeance, and she heard nothing about him but the queen whose mother always seemed to be there.

The day he met Saige, he got his mother to leave them alone for a while. Looking into her brown eyes, her little smirk, her friendly smile, a little piece of his chest ached, but in a different way than it did for Agathon. Hers was the ache after a dislocated joint snapped back into place. Hers was the stretch in the morning, an ebbing headache, the ache of waiting for a healing wound to finally close over. Something that punched the breath out of you, but in a way that was right. Like it was supposed to happen.

The day he met her, he heard Agathon’s parents in her voice, bickering, shoving each other, watched her move and saw them bumping hips as they did the dishes together. He saw Agathon mouthing his final words to him when she spoke.

He’s never told her this, but Saige healed him. It only got better after that day. After stumbling, falling, she guided his feet and helped him find his footing. She did not replace Agathon, because that would be a disservice to both of them. Nikolai found space easily in his heart for her. It was as though she had just been waiting to move in to the space he had prepared for years.

He loves her. He would burn down the world for her, as he hopes she would do for him.

He doesn’t tell Kayani that, however. He skims over the depth of his feelings for Saige—he’s at peace with them, he has nothing to be ashamed of, and he’s pretty sure she knows, but it’s for them. Not Kayani, not anyone else. Not that.

When Nikolai’s done, Kayani is still watching with rapt attention, a bit of shock. He looks up at the moon and inhales. He didn’t realize he’d been rambling so long. Saige is still asleep, thankfully.

“Did you ever try to find him again?” Kayani asks.

“No. It was never the right time, even after her death.” He thinks of it, now. Trying. But the thought makes his chest ache, so he puts it away.

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses @47crayons @wickerring @sleepy-night-child @florraisons @faithfire @croctears @inkovert @kait-writes

#writing #Lila’s wips: acogs #writeblr #fantasy #fantasy wip #my fantasy wip #my wip #bean's excerpts

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 14: Masquerade

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which there are intruders in the castle.

Word count: 3.1k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka “Peach”)

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Y/N had danced her third dance of the night with her third partner. The entire time, she'd kept searching the room for Harry. Where was he? It wasn't like him to promise that he'd be here and not show up. She blamed all the trauma she'd gone through for her being too guarded and anxious, yet she trusted her gut instinct, and tonight, it was telling her to be careful.

The crowd broke into applause at the end of another dance, and Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder.

"May I have a word with you in private?" Lance asked, eyeing Y/N's dance partner. The man took the hint and bowed goodbye to Lance and Y/N. Lance gave Y/N a mysterious grin as he gestured with his hand toward the door, letting her walk first.

"You seem anxious," he pointed out once they were alone in the corridor and the orchestra music became muffled.

"How anxious?" she asked, pulling off her mask.

He kept his mask on, holding his hands together behind his back. "Right now? Not as much as before." He offered a calming smile. "I'm sorry. Is this a bad time to talk about politics?"

"It's never a good time, but go ahead."

Lance hummed his agreement. "I didn't see Mary tonight. I thought Jo was supposed to keep an eye on her."

"She's being kept an eye on. Don't worry. Her room is being guarded," Y/N said, arms crossed. "What's wrong?"

Lance inhaled deeply, catching his breath. "She was to betray us. She was a spy for Calanthe. She told you to go to the North mountain because Calanthe wanted you to lead her there. She also wanted to find the lake. But her plan failed because the forest protected its secrets from outsiders like her."

Y/N's stomach dipped. "How long have you known this?"

"Weeks."

"And you decided to wait until now to tell me?"

"Look," Lance breathed, raking his fingers through his dark locks. "I was going to wait until after tonight because you'd gone through so much–"

"So what made you decide to tell me in the middle of my dance?"

Lance worked his jaw. For once, he was inarticulate. "This might sound stupid, but...it was my gut feeling telling me to tell you right away."

Y/N bit her lip. "So...why are you keeping this a secret? Why are you protecting the witch?"

Lance hesitated. "I don't want to hurt Jo..."

"Jo?" It took Y/N a moment to realize what he meant. Her heart dropped. "Oh, no, Jo...She was looking for someone tonight. I thought it was you."

"No," Lance chuckled, shaking his head. "Jo doesn't like me like that. Or at all."

"Everyone likes you."

"Is that so?" His eyebrow lifted in amusement. "Well, I'm very flattered, Your Majesty, but I don't think me being likeable could do much good for us. Calanthe has a plan."

"What plan?" Y/N scoffed. "Is there something else you're not telling me?"

"It's not a fact, just my speculation."

"Go ahead."

Lance rubbed his chin. "Well, I think George Wallace was murdered, but not by one of our people."

Y/N took a moment to let that sink in. "What are you implying? That it was a setup?"

Lance nodded, his eyebrows knitted. Y/N watched his grey eyes dance behind the mask as he observed his surroundings before lowering his voice. "They sent him here to kill him. He was the bait. No one would suspect Calanthe to sacrifice her most trusted advisor."

"Harry said the same thing," Y/N said and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"What?"

Her head shot up. She blinked at Lance. "What?"

Lance cocked his head to the side. "Is everything all right between you two?"

The question wasn't sarcasm with the intention of taunting her. Lance genuinely cared about her feelings despite his own. Knowing so, she could not help but think about what he'd said the other night and earlier on the dance floor. First and last dance...

No. She was overthinking again. She wasn't allowed to have these thoughts. This political chaos was already too much to handle. There was no time for personal business.

"Nothing is all right, Lance. You know that," Y/N answered with a soft sigh.

Lance nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

Just as the uncomfortable silence threatened to creep back in, a guard showed up, gasping for air as he bowed to Y/N and Lance. Y/N thought to herself, 'Not another dead body,' and her limbs went numb as she remembered that Harry was nowhere to be found tonight. He could be anywhere in the castle. Who knew what could have happened to him?

"Your Majesty," the guard said between laboured breaths. "There are intruders in the castle."

"Where?" asked Lance, his fingers secured around his sword-hilt.

"The west wing," the guard said. "Commander Harry saw someone."

"Where's Harry?" Y/N asked, her stomach knotted. She unconsciously reached for the sword at her side, only to be reminded that she was wearing a ball gown, and there was still a dance going on behind those doors. She was stupid and careless enough to have gathered all the important people here tonight.

"The Commander went after the intruder, Your Majesty. We suspect there are more than one."

"Fucking idiot!" cried Y/N as she picked up her skirt and ran. She heard Lance telling the guard to keep the ballroom secured and make sure no one came and left. Then he chased after her.

If that idiot Harry didn't die tonight, she would kill him with her bare hands.

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Harry wanted to skip the dance. People had been whispering about him since he'd returned, so he didn't want to draw more attention to himself by dancing with the Queen herself. However, he'd promised Y/N he'd be there for her, and he never wanted to let her down. And so he deliberately took a bit longer to get ready just to show up late and blend right into the crowd.

The castle was so quiet tonight with almost everyone being in the ballroom. Harry could hear the music all the way from his chamber. He took one last look at himself in the mirror before adjusting his mask and leaving for the dance. He was accompanied by a guard, which made him quite uncomfortable. Still, he knew it was all for his safety. Everyone must be careful after the murder of George Wallace.

"Help!" a scream tore through the night, causing both Harry and the guard to whirl around. A shadow dashed out of the darkness and crashed right into him. He caught the person with both arms and was terrified to find that it was a woman covered in blood.

Mary.

"Help!" she choked, tears streaming down her scarred face. Her hands were shaking as she smeared blood all over his shirt. "They're...they're dead! They wanted to kill me!"

"Who?"

"The guards," Mary sobbed, her face as white as the moon-washed floor. "They're dead! A man killed them and...was chasing after me! He had a weapon!"

"Take her somewhere safe," Harry told the guard, pulling Mary up to her feet.

"You're not coming, Commander?" the guard asked Harry.

Harry opened his mouth to answer when all of a sudden, he spotted a tall and slim figure lurking in the shadows of the corridor. It vanished in a blink of an eye. Harry knew it headed to the courtyard for there was nowhere else to go.

"There are intruders in the castle," Harry told the guard, his heart pounding. "Send backups. Alarm the King and Queen!" And without waiting for the guard or Mary to stop him, Harry ran after whom he assumed was the murderer.

He didn't stop until he was deep in the garden. The snow was falling peacefully all around while the beating of his heart accelerated. Thousands of tiny candles dotted ledges hidden throughout the topiaries. It would have seemed magical had the fog ever lifted. Now the little lights played strangely with the mist, creating shadowy phantoms, there one moment and gone the next. Harry gripped his sword with cold and numb fingers, overwhelmed with anxiety as he scanned his eyes around.

Suddenly, he became aware of another's presence behind him and swung his sword just in time to deflect the blow. The person stumbled back. A clang of metal on metal. A whoosh. Harry let out a gasp as he felt the cold tip of the blade at his throat. Meanwhile, he was holding his sword with an outstretched hand, pointing straight at Lance's heart.

"You," Lance said, catching his breath. He seemed relieved, which confused Harry.

"You!"

"Peach!" Harry and Lance bounced away from each other as Y/N rushed up to them. She looked beautiful in her golden dress, yet she also looked angry...

"Mind explaining what happened?" she asked before Harry could open his mouth. Lance put his sword away, assessing Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Someone killed the guards outside Mary's room," Harry said, hating the way Y/N's face grew grim. "They tried to kill her but she escaped."

Y/N groaned as she hugged her arms around her chest, gooseflesh rippling over all that bare skin. It was far too cold to be out.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry said. Y/N's eyes sharpened furiously at him. He was expecting her to snap when a broken branch alerted the three of them.

"Y/N!" cried Lance, but he didn't react fast enough. Y/N had yanked the sword out of his hand and chased after the figure. Harry could see it a bit clearer now. It looked like a man wearing a dark cloak. He exchanged horrified looks with Lance and both sprinted after Y/N and the intruder.

"Show your face!" Y/N shouted as she studied the garden in silence. From where they stood, the ballroom, shining so brightly inside, could barely be seen. The orchestra's music echoed eerily in the fog. Y/N looked half-crazed. Her words came out in smoke. "Surrender and maybe I'll spare your life."

There were footsteps padding towards them, gaining speed, closing the distance. There was more than one person.

As they closed in, Harry spun around. He drew his sword and struck at eye level. A cry of pain answered him. Y/N deflected the blow and lunged with her sword, which met with the figure's blade which gleamed in the moonlight. Beside Harry, Lance was dodging every strike. He was quick, yet unable to fight back without a weapon.

Harry heard Y/N mutter something under her breath, her eyes met his for a second, and he could see the helplessness in them. She wanted to protect Lance.

Harry took down the man charging at him with a swing of his sword before thrusting it right through the one cornering Lance. Lance looked up at him, wide-eyed, breathing out smoke. He hadn't expected Harry to help him.

Y/N's sudden cry startled both men. They turned. Like a silver snake, the last intruder's sword shot out and caught Y/N in the shoulder. She fell with a hard thud to the ground.

"Peach!"

"Y/N!"

Lance and Harry bolted towards her. The murderer took that chance to flee, disappearing into the fence maze when Harry looked up. The heavily falling snow had covered all the footsteps like a perfect accomplice. The garden returned to its peacefulness as if there hadn't been a crime committed against the Queen.

"I'm fine," Y/N said, wincing as she held her shoulder. Red blood was trickling down her skin, staining the snow, bringing back to Harry the unpleasant memories of those nights in the woods. He was reminded once again that he could lose her any moment if they weren't careful.

Lance put an arm around her as he helped her stand up. Harry tore his sleeve and wrapped the piece of fabric around her wound to temporarily stop the blood. His heart ached as he watched her bite back the pain. Blood had stained her beautiful dress. Then, Harry noticed that Lance was looking at her with the same agony in his eyes. It was like looking into a mirror. Harry and Lance both hurt the same.

"Y/N!"

"Your Majesty!"

Jo and five guards finally showed up. Jo gasped into her palms when she saw that Y/N was bleeding. "Oh, Y/N, you're hurt!"

"Took you long enough!" Lance snapped at the guards. "I would have had all of you beheaded had something bad happened to the Queen!"

The guards muttered their apologies which were silenced by Lance's raised hand.

"I don't think they wanted me dead," Y/N spoke. She sounded strangely calm for someone who'd just been stabbed. "If they did, they would've killed me already."

"They're here for the witch. They knew she betrayed them," Lance said.

"Betray?" Jo muttered.

Lance's expression shifted. Harry reckoned that Lance hadn't meant to let Jo find out this way. Harry wasn't sure he was more shocked by the news or Jo's reaction to it. He had never seen her so genuinely hurt by anyone that wasn't Y/N.

"She was a spy for Calanthe," said Y/N, seemingly too in pain to acknowledge her friend's pained expression. "Don't worry. We'll take care of that."

"You're not going to...hurt her, are you?" Jo said, her voice wavering.

Lance placed a hand on Jo's shoulder. For the first time, he was showing sympathy with a servant. "We're not. Don't worry."

Jo nodded, yet the uncertainty was etched on her face as she wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, escorting her back inside.

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Harry lit a candle beside Y/N's bed. She was lying on her back, watching him. Her shoulder had been bandaged. It didn't hurt as much as before yet she could not shake off the fear she'd felt earlier in the garden. She wished she'd seen those men's faces. She believed they were the Monks. Calanthe had either sent them here to kill the witch or to light a match that would start a war.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hand placed over of hers.

"About what?" she chuckled. "Tonight wasn't your fault."

"You came to the garden to find me."

"Yes, I did it by choice." She squeezed his fingers and cracked a reassuring smile. "I can take care of myself. Don't you worry. I'm brave."

"I know," Harry sighed. "Brave people tend to get themselves in trouble."

Y/N snorted as she rolled her eyes. "Trouble follows me everywhere I go. So many people have wanted me dead. But look at me now. I'm the Queen, and I'm not losing my crown to anyone. I'm not letting them take my father's kingdom."

Harry exhaled, a smile playing on his lips. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said.

There was a knock on the door. "Y/N?"

"It's–"

"Lance," Harry said, his expression unreadable.

The door creaked open and Lance poked his head into the room, looking surprised to see Harry there. "I'll leave," Lance said.

"No, I'll leave," Harry said, smiling at Y/N. "Goodnight, my queen." Then, he kissed her hand and got up to go.

"Hey," Lance stopped him halfway through the door. "Thank you for earlier."

"No problem," Harry replied. With just that, he was gone, shutting the door on his way out.

"Glad to see my fake future wife still alive," Lance said as he made his way to the bed to sit down at Harry's previous spot.

Y/N let out a light laugh. "I'm sorry I took your sword."

Lance squinted his eyes in amusement. "Yeah, and still, you managed to get yourself hurt."

She scowled at him and punched his shoulder as a joke. He pretended to wince in pain before busting out laughing. "Sorry." Lance cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. "How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts less. Thanks for asking."

"It wasn't like you to be so careless," he said.

Y/N pursed her lips. "I was distracted."

"By?"

"I was...worried you'd get hurt," she mumbled. Even without looking at him, she could still feel his notorious smirk growing wider.

"Don't let that happen on the battlefield," he said. "I can take care of myself, with a sword, of course. But you should always remember that the enemy wants your head more than mine."

Y/N swallowed hard as Lance reached out his hand. She watched him ponder for a second before gathering enough courage to place his hand on top of hers. Just like Harry had before. Harry's touch had been natural and comfortable. As for Lance, she felt him turning into a bundle of nerves.

"You're too good for me," she said.

His eyes danced as he chuckled. "No one is too good for anyone." Then he sucked in a breath. "I hope we'll both be alive after this."

"We will," she said even though she was unsure.

"What will happen then?"

"We get married. For our kingdoms."

Lance's smile faltered. He clenched his jaw and looked away, his fingers sliding off hers. "We don't have to if Calanthe's dead," he whispered.

"Our people expect a wedding."

Lance shook his head and switched his gaze back to her. "Forget what the people want. What do you want, Y/N?"

"I can't just forget what the people want. I'm their queen."

Lance's lips slightly parted yet he said nothing more. It was hard to tell if he'd run out of arguments or simply didn't want to start.

"Let's try to stay alive and find out," he said with a thin smile. "Goodnight."

She watched him get up, looking rather weary. The complete opposite of the charming king he'd been at the dance.

"Why did you say it was our last dance?" she asked before he reached the door.

He looked over his shoulder, lips curled to the side. "It was a joke. Because you said you didn't want to dance with me, which I hope was also a joke."

"It was." She gave a small smile. "I loved dancing with you."

"Good," he said, weakly. "Rest well, Y/N."

"So do you," Y/N said.

As quietly as a shadow, Lance slipped out of the room.

#tctm series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles

[teatitty]

I said that I was going to talk about Deirdre so lets talk about Deirdre, Ireland’s most famous tragic herione, whose epithet is literally “Deirdre Of The Sorrows.” Warnings for general Conchobar creepiness and a suicide at the end

Dating back to the Ulster Cycle, Deirdre was born to Felimidh Mac Dall, a chieftain and bard of the Ulaidh, during the reign of Conchobar (this will go well...). As a child she was very beautiful and the druid Cathbad prophesized that this beauty would only grow as she aged, until she became the most beautiful woman in Ireland. Unfortunately she would also bring war and tragedy, because that’s always how these stories go

When this news reached Conchobar’s capital, Emain Mach, his royal knights (The Red Branch) decided that, to spare Ireland of this misery, they would take the young child and kill her. Conchobar, however, ordered her to be put into the care of the poetess Leabharcham, so that when she was of age he himself would marry her (yeah haha it doesnt get better from here)

One year during winter, Deirdre, walking alone, comes across a raven eating a dead lamb. Horrified by this sight, she declares that she would only let love into her heart for a man whose hair was as black as the Raven’s wings and whose lips were red as the sheeps blood. (Very gothic of her)

When she was nearing the age of maidenhood she spotted a man approaching Emain Macha, who had raven black hair and blood red lips. She finds that his name is Naoise, and he is the son of Usna and Ebhla, the daughter of Cathbad. She asks Leabharcham to help her meet him, as he is her love, and the poetess agrees. Naoise falls instantly in love with her, but, aware of what will happen should Conchobar discover their relationship, he confides in his two younger brothers, Ainlé and Ardán, and they help him and Deirdre escape from Emain Macha to Alba (Scotland) where they find safety in Glen Etive

This...does not last. Conchobar very quickly finds out and his anger and jealousy grows fiercer every day. His spies discover that they are holed up under the protection of a Caledonian King and so legally Conchobar can do nothing to them. This, however, does not stop him. He comes up with a plan to lure them back to Ireland and sends Fergus mac Roich, (who was the “purest of heart” at the time) to Scotland to relay a message to them that he had forgiven them and wished them only happiness

(He also wanted Ainlé and Ardán back with his Knights cuz they were too valuable to lose)

Fergus takes his two sons with him and they ride off. He relays the message but Deirdre still doesn’t trust it. It is only because of Fergus’ stellar reputation that she agrees to return (yikes). Upon their return they are greeted with a huge feast and stated to meet with Conchobar by morning. Deirdre naturally doesn’t like this but Fergus assures her that Conchobar would never dishonour his own words (yeah do you see how he managed to keep a good rep yet?)

In the morning everyone gathers around the exiles in the forecourt. All except Fergus who had conveniently been sent off on an errand by Conchobar beforehand. Conchobar appears on the balcony, orders his knights to seize Deirdre but kill the rest and TLDR to this whole scene: Naoise dies by the hand of Eoghain and one of Fergus’ sons, Buinne, surrenders, but the other, Illán Fionn, refuses to dishonour himself and keeps fighting until death 

Cathbad calls Conchobar out for his treachery, Deirdre collapses from sorrow and despair at Naoise’s death and when Fergus returns to see the butchery he swears vengeance and disowns Buinne and this is how he ends up at Connacht with Medb! It’s all coming together

Conchobar then has Deirdre taken to his quarters, but she refuses to speak to him and after a year of silence he becomes bored and his lust for her turns cold, whereupon he has her bound by hand and feet and thrown into a chariot. She is then given as a reward to Eoghain, the man she hates most after Conchobar himself. On the way to Eoghain, however, she manages to throw herself from the chariot and smash her brains out upon a rock, killing herself instantly. She is then buried next to her lover Naoise and from their graves two trees grew in a tight embrace

#mythology #wasnt kidding when i said it was tragedy! #also in some versions conchobar forces himself on her repeatedly during that year of silence #which would surprise none of you probably but. yeah

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

series rating: R (18+) | genre: historical drama au!; king seokjin! au; established relationship! au; royalty! au!; 

warnings: non-graphic mentions of an abuse by Y/N’s stepmama; mentions of death; ANGST; horny ass jinnie and y/n; groping; unprotected sex bc condoms werent invented yet; fingering; edging if ya squint; impregnation kink; voyeurism; oral m and f receiving; slight degradation; good god i have never written this much filth in my life, brb gotta go to church;

word count:  6.3k

g/n: hEY HEY HEY BACK WITH THE SMUT YALL; anywho a few disclaimers before u read this sweetie, YES, its Jung Jungkook for a reason, you’ll see soon enough ;) also,,,, there might be a few korean words thrown in there but ya know context clues or u could search them up too if u want,,,, but i’ll also be placing them at the end of this post for ya <3 P.S. this is also going to turn into a series y’aLLLL GAHHHH

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

It’s with Seokjin’s relentless pounding from behind you that you figure that the council meeting probably didn’t go well today. You’ve discovered that times of intimacies like these were a way to relieve himself of the stresses of being a newly pronounced king. Not that you were complaining though.

His fingers find your clit with practiced ease, rubbing at sensitive nub with great fervor. Seokjin’s punishing thrusts become slower as you both reached your highs, his cock falling limp shortly after he pulls out of you. Reaching over to the nearby table, he grabs a towel and dips it on the bowl of water, wiping away traces of his climax between your thighs. He pulls up his pants previously bunched in his ankles and arranges the rest of his durumagi, removing any possible evidence of your quick fuck.

“Council meeting went bad?” you asked, rubbing at your numbing forearms due to your husband’s forceful movements against the table he’d fucked you against. Seokjin briefly throws a sheepish look your way, guessing  you have finally figured out his nasty antics of de-stressing, but his beautiful face turns serious as he once again reminded of his responsibilities as king.

“Well with Minseok’s recent death, the dried-up lands in the far east, and an uprising rebellion in the south, I can’t say the meeting went particularly…peaceful,” Seokjin heaves a sigh and rests his hands on his knees.

Minseok was a trusted royal guard, serving Seokjin’s family for nearly all his life and had perished due to an attack during a visit to the southern city. While Minseok’s death caused a great loss in the palace, his blood symbolized the initial step towards an uprising, spurring on the southern troops even further.

With your back facing him, you felt remorseful as your hand subconsciously reaches for the south’s emblem given by your father, hidden beneath the thick collar of your hanbok – a harsh reminder that you were once from the southern palace – and yet you couldn’t do anything to help your king.

It was one thing being only half royalty and another being the only heir to the throne. After multiple tries, prayer movements, and endless offerings, the real queen of the south proved to be infertile and could not bear a child for the king. In the past however, a childless monarch proved to be an advantage to those who attempted to overthrow the throne. Hence your biological father, the king, decided that he needed to have an heir at once. However, the only other lady your dad would trust with such great feat is the head court lady, your mom, who became the king’s only concubine – ergo, your coming into this world.

Your father acknowledged you as his daughter the moment he heard your first cry as a newborn, much to the queen’s repressed opposition. She knew she had no other choice but to give in to your father’s recognition, but her display of hatred for you never stopped at your birth. Your life was an endless tale of narrow escapes from her atrocities.

On the bright side, you maintained a healthy relationship with your father, he taught you how to read and write, he showed you the ins and outs of the city, gave you your first archery lesson, and even taught you a thing or two about politics and diplomacy. You were well-founded for a girl your age, considering that women in your society were only perceived to be bearers of children and raisers of the young instead of hitting sack targets on a moving horse and being deployed on diplomatic affairs.

Life was almost perfect if it weren’t for your very promising antagonist of stepmother. The rest of the palace, your father included, regarded her as your stepmother, but she never came close to being a motherly figure in your life. Quite frankly, you knew she wanted you dead even before you grew a heart – probably the only reason why she wasn’t blessed with a child. The two-headed snake deserved it.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only victim of her cruelty. As you grew up, you knew she was bound to get worse, it didn’t come as much of a shock when you heard of her plans to murder your father and your biological mother. What you didn’t expect though that the breakfast you’d shared with your father that morning was the last time you’ll ever see him.

You fled from the palace that night, bumping into Seokjin as you exited the gates of the palace. He recognizes your face from previous council meetings and have been acquainted with each other as members of royalty, but he’s never seen you in such a state of distress. Before he could ask you why you were running away from the palace at such hour, you mounted his horse and pleaded to him to take you anywhere else but your home – your previous home.

One look at your tear-stained face was all he needed and he turned his horse around, despite questioning looks he got from his guards. He had brought you back to the capital and took you in the palace. Soon friends turned to lovers and the rest is history.

Seokjin notices your silence and he’s come up from the edge of the bed to envelop you in his arms. “A frown isn’t fitting for a queen,” he takes your chin between his fingers and turns your face towards him. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks, confused by the frown drawn upon your face.

“I just…” you start off, but when your fingers find the cold metal of the necklace, you fall silent again. Seokjin sighs as he finally catches on your despondence and gives you a tighter hug and a fleeting kiss on the forehead.

For once in a long time, you felt like it was just the two of you again alone in the room, alone in the world. Just two lovers, no treacherous stepmothers, no responsibilities, no nation to take care of. Your mind races back to the memories of you sneaking out of the palace to your agreed rendezvous or walking to your secret garden to talk about your daily endeavors. Seokjin made this cruel world more bearable and you will always be eternally grateful for that. He would always shower you with the greatest support and understanding, fully aware of what you have been deprived of during your childhood.

Seokjin on one hand feels equally thankful to have you enter his life, to have you as his wife. He had always admired your knowledge in various things and he frequently shows fondness for your wit in a very remarkable way – like that one time he had brought you to a council meeting to share your ideas (a taboo in the culture – seeing as women weren’t cut in making political decisions) and called an advisor an imbecile for suggesting a huge increase in taxes when a fourth of the city was struggling with famine. Needless to say, Seokjin found the sight of you standing up to his advisors more than arousing so he had sent everyone home at once and two minutes after everyone had left, he already had you bent over his desk, fucking you into oblivion.

Your husband leaves shortly after taking a few scrolls from the shelves before inviting you to dinner, winking as he leaves your room, telling you that he has specially requested the kitchen to cook your favorite dish for dinner tonight. You take a bath during your husband’s absence, indulging yourself in a milk bath, while the servants scrub at your back and arms. As a child, the southern palace only afforded you cold baths with the heat in the south constantly unbearable but mainly because the queen was adamant on treating you badly. She’d made sure you regularly bathe in cold ones, even worse during the winter. You couldn’t keep count of the times you had to be rescued back to life by the court ladies after nearly shivering to death.

The servants take their leave as they’ve scrubbed most of the expanse of skin you’ve exposed for them to exfoliate and you sink further into the pool, a variety of petals floating around and about as you create ripples with your hands.

“My Queen,” a court lady bows her head as she enters your chambers. “The King requests your presence for the inauguration of the new king’s guards,” she informs, not meeting your eyes as you wear your undergarments. You give her a hum of approval and wait for the servants to finish braiding your hair so you could accompany your husband during the ceremony.

You can feel the pebbles under your shoes move with the steady beat of the drums. The inauguration was supposed to be held a few more months later but because of the death of Minseok, the ceremony had to be moved to an earlier date. You were about to turn the corner when the someone in torn, ragged clothes ran in front of you, your guards ushering you backwards to protection. With two watchmen already following the man, two from your group follow to see what the scurry is all about.

The remaining guards that are with you lead you towards the field quickly to evade any further commotion. When you reach where Seokjin is situated, he acknowledges you briefly, worry swimming in his eyes. You place a comforting hand on his to assure him that there is nothing to be worried about. Once you have settled in your seat, a guard comes up to Seokjin’s side and the drums stop. “Your Royal Highnesses, King Seokjin and the Queen.” Your husband raises a hand to acknowledge the crowd surrounding the field, all present to witness the ceremony.

“Let the inauguration of the new royal guards begin.”

The drums fall into a steady rhythm once again, men clad in red and white silk uniforms pile in groups of twenty. Applause falls within the crowd, hands busy clapping for the newly inducted protectors of the palace. You see a few girls displaying themselves by the corner where the guards enter the field. They mask their flirtatious looks under the guise of modesty, covering their powdered faces with fans while sending coquettish looks to the guards.

Seokjin lets out a chuckle when he follows your line of vision and you reply deftly “I don’t blame them. I’d definitely do the same when you’re in your uniform.” You try your best not to wink at your husband especially at a public gathering like this, but your witty effort to get him to stop judging you has proved to be effective. You know he is most likely going to punish you about this tonight and the idea already has you squirming in your seat.

“My King, may I present to you the new captain of the royal guards, Jung Jungkook of the east.” A man from the first row steps forward. “My King, my Queen.” He acknowledges your presence, bowing from the waist. Jung Jungkook drops to the ground, his weight resting on one leg. He draws his sword, plunges it to the ground – the sound of metal slicing through the soil ringing throughout the field. “I am Jung Jungkook from the Jung clan of the east. My father has served the royal family for many years and has perished terribly during the attack of the South. I am here to restore the honor to my family by serving your highness, to serve the capital, and to avenge my late father.” His head is hung low, yet he is breathing heavily, the weight of his emotions too heavy on his shoulders.

Seokjin leans forward, “Your father has fought well and there is no greater honor than to die for the safety of your countrymen. I am glad he has a son to continue the legacy of your family. Stand, Jung Jungkook, for I know your father’s soul is now at peace.” The man complies and speaks, “Long live King Seokjin, long live the capital!” The rest of the two hundred men follow suit. The citizens join in on the cheering but your eyes linger on the new captain and the faded scar on his left cheek.

The turmoil in the south has worsened during the past few weeks. You rarely see your husband nowadays, constantly trapped for hours on end inside the four walls of his office. You can feel the pressure of being the king taking its toll on him. The servants tell you that he barely touches his food and that your husband also always comes in late at night and leaves early at dawn to work. It’s bringing you great worry that Seokjin couldn’t properly take care of himself nowadays.  

Your attempts to aide him during these stressful times prove to be futile, especially with his damned advisors who keep on barring you from entering his office or attending the council meetings. It is believed anyways that the queen only tends to matters of the royal household and that women have no right to give counsel. Unfortunately for them, you are no ordinary queen nor are you just a queen. You are also the wife of your beloved husband and a handful of stubborn councilmen has never stopped you before.

While the royal advisors are busy wasting too much time on a singular issue, you went out on your own to witness the effects of the famine of the east. Most of the crops that were delivered throughout the country was produced in the east because of their healthy soil and the waters surrounding the city. When a month has passed and there were still no signs of rain in the east, you know this was going to cause a huge problem and eventually another predicament for Seokjin. You had lived long enough in the onerous south to witness problems like this turn into bigger ones.

You have made arrangements to visit the city and so far, your plan going smoothly as planned. You manage to sneak out of the royal seamstress’ room after paying her a decent amount of silver coins for a commoner’s dress. It’s getting late and your husband will be returning to your room soon so you trudge back a little faster just to make it in time. When you reach the back door to your room, you see two guards lounging stand up abruptly at your presence. “M-my q-queen,” he bows, not meeting your eyes. “It’s alright. Just don’t tell anybody.”

Seokjin enters the room just when you’re stood in front of the mirror, hands removing the pins from your head. He slides the wooden door gently and sends you a small smile through the reflection on your mirror. “Why don’t I help you with that?” You gently decline his offer, not wanting to bother your exhausted king with any more chores. It’s unfair how he is still impeccably handsome even with the weariness evident on his face. Seokjin still insists though, claiming that a king’s functions should not be an excuse to escape those of a husband’s. “And besides, I ought to know how to do this if we’ll have a daughter in the future.” The statement was supposed to be a genuine shot at what the future might hold but your body’s treacherous response is far from the innocence of Seokjin’s statement.

Just the thought of it has heat pooling in your abdomen. You haven’t had enough time in your hands to spend time to think about things like that, Seokjin being a newly-crowned king, more so as a newly-wedded couple.

Your husband notices the deep breath you take, his eyes slowly getting darker by the second. He takes the last golden pin from your braids, letting your hair fall into loose waves. You feel relieved when the strain on your scalp melts away in seconds – something that you should’ve been used to by now, considering that you have been royalty all your life, but nothing beats that fresh wave of relief when you free your hair from all the pins and ribbons. That’s why when Seokjin cards his fingers through your locks, you feel the rising of the small hairs at the back of your neck, such mundane action bordering on sensual.

He does this a few more times in silence, just combing through your hair gently, deeming that seeing you fall into such comfort like this is enough for him. His chaste intentions though are all thrown aside when you lean against him, your undone hanbok falls from your shoulder, exposing the skin there in all its glory. Your husband takes all your hair and transfers it on your left shoulder and you tilt your head to the same side, giving him space where he could pepper all his kisses on.

He murmurs sweet nothings against your skin while sending fleeting kisses from your ear’s helix, to your cheek, you jawline then down to your shoulders. “Little you and me running around…” he murmurs while pushing the rest of your hanbok off your body. It doesn’t take much effort, the silken cloth sliding down easily and now you’re just left in your undergarments.

“Would you like that, my queen?” Seokjin asks, fingers thumbing the ribbon that’s keeping together the last layer of clothing you have on. It takes only one breathy ‘yes’ from you and the cloth covering your intimacies falls altogether, leaving no trace of modesty.

He cups both breasts in each palm, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Your nipples are firm, already hardened by the worshipping kisses he places all over. He trails a finger along your jaw, turning your face toward him. His lips meet yours, plump lips pressing gently against your own. When you figure he’s about to pull away, he grips your ass and you gasp, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage. It’s been too long since you had seen your husband so… sensual. Usually, you’re both in a rush with the sole intent of getting some release but tonight, it seems as if Seokjin is determined to take his time in claiming all of you in the most intimate of ways, slowly but surely like it’s the last night of his life.

Seokjin savors every moan, every whimper as his deft fingers roam your body. He loves every curve and dip; how soft and taut it is at the same time. The milk baths you’ve always indulged in and your younger days of archery and horse riding had definitely done you good. He tries to etch them all into his memory though he knows flashes of images of you in his brain could never give justice to the reality of having you in his arms.

His fingers reach your cunt and he cups it, making you lean further against him for support. You feel the fine sheen of sweat of his torso on his back and for a moment you wonder how he’s managed to take his to take his top off without taking a hand off you. He pulls you away from your thoughts when he tugs you closer to him, shamelessly grinding his erection against your ass. He finds your clit easily through memory, rubbing the sensitive nub, fingers moving slowly in circular motions.

“S-seokjin please,” you beg, knowing you’re nearly there but still so far away, far too greedy to orgasm on clitoral stimulation alone. You needed him inside you. Now. “Speak up, my love,” he orders, shallowly dipping a finger in your cunt and withdrawing it just as quick. “Please. Y-you. Need y- “You’re rendered breathless by his teasing, your hand traveling to tug at his hair. “You want me to put a baby in you, hmm?” He finally pushes a finger in. “You’d love that don’t you? Having to carry the next heir to the throne inside you?” Another finger breaches you, Seokjin chuckling when you let out a loud gasp.

He nips at the shell of your ear, reminding you of the presence of the guards outside in a low whisper. Your hand instantly moves to cover your mouth but Seokjin grabs you by the wrists. “Who told you to cover your mouth, hmm? We both know you want the whole palace to hear how filthy their queen is.” Seokjin must admit, the whole idea is just as pleasing to him as it is to you. You were practically squelching when his fingers quicken the pace, your orgasm coming to you at breakneck speed. The feeling of his fingers toying with your cunt too much for you to handle that you are unable to stop your lover’s name fall like a prayer on your lips. Your whole body trembles in his grip, legs threatening to give in. A whimper escapes you when he pulls his fingers out, sending him a glare through the mirror. You were so, so close.

“My love, as much as I enjoy seeing you wrecked under my touch through the mirror, we have to take this to the bed.” He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek and tugs at your arm, but you stand your ground. You wag a finger at him, ‘tsk’-ing at his impatience. Not until he’d have a taste of his own medicine.

You let your finger trail along his torso, tracing the outlines of his abdominals. Imitating your husband’s  earlier torturous ministrations, you take your time with him, reveling in how much you’ve affected him – how his breathing is getting more labored by the second. You run a finger along the length of his shaft still covered by his pants. He’s already hard, you reckon, feeling it slightly twitch under your touch.

Slowly, you lower down on your knees, tugging his pants down along with your descent. The sight of his cock makes you wet your lips, too eager to please. “My love, you don’t have to,” his hands hover yours that are resting on his hips. It’s not that he didn’t want your mouth on his cock but he just wanted to drawl out this evening for as long as he could. Frankly, he couldn’t afford to release in your mouth without having felt your velvety walls first.

“I want to.” Not wanting to wait any longer, you tentatively place a kiss on the bulbous head, making Seokjin gasp at the contact. You get bolder, gathering some of the precum that has gathered on the tip spreading it along his length your tongue. Using the armrests as leverage, you straighten your back and finally take him in your mouth. Seokjin deems he’ll never get used to this feeling. You vaguely hear him groan above you, but you’re far too busy pushing his shaft farther inside.

You briefly gaze at him through your eyelashes. It’s unfair, you reckon, that even when your lamps cast this golden glow to only one side of his face, he’s just as ethereal as under the light of day. You take him in your mouth as far as you can. When Seokjin throws his head back in pleasure with his wonderfully thick neck on display only for you to see, it ignites a carnal desire in you, so you push yourself further. When he finally hits the back of your throat, you swallow and your husband chokes on air, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto the armrests.

It’s an arduous task, having to try and take control of your breathing as you pleasure your husband. You move up then down slowly until you find a steady rhythm. You feel your eyes water with the pace until his chest starts heaving and you know he’s nearing his climax. “N-no. P-please,” your husband pleads, each word brokenly spoken. Tugging at your hair slightly, he pries you off his mouth, releasing a sigh of relief when you take your mouth off him.

“Bed now.” With your knees still sore from kneeling too long, it takes you some time to get up. Impatiently, the moment you get one of your knees off the ground he hooks his arm below them and lifts you off the ground, carrying you bridal style. “Stop trying to stall.” Seokjin huffs, his lips forming a pout. You giggle at his cuteness, of course even at a time like this, he manages to make you smile like a kid with candy.

He lays you gently on the bed, your hair fanning out on the pillows. He caresses your face with the pads of his fingers and you find yourself leaning against his touch. “My queen,” he sighs, “Your beauty is unrivaled. Truly.” Your lips meet when he closes the distance between the two of you. He stays like that for a moment, his swollen lips placed on top of yours until he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. You fervently kiss each other, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes pry open again only to see your husband’s teary ones.

“Seokjin-ie, are you okay? What’s the matter?” He shakes his head, replying, “You’re just so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife.” Your face crumples at his words and you give him another kiss. “How could you possibly think that when so many other women who vying for my position right now? Both literally and figuratively. You’re glad when you get a chuckle out of Seokjin. “As much as I want to argue about who’s the luckier one, I have a more pressing problem. And it’s getting really painful, so please…” His lips close in on one of your breasts, your hand flying up to pull at his hair.

Once again, you’re a moaning mess beneath Seokjin. You’re whining, begging for more than the assault he’s doing on your breasts. He doesn’t waste time in complying with your whims, your legs spreading apart when he shifts his position above you. He braces himself on one arm and you hiss as he swipes against your folds, taking some of the wetness on his palm and rubbing it onto his cock. When he pushes slowly against your entrance, you whimper as he gradually sinks into you. Gods, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to him.

When he’s fully sank into you to the hilt, he pauses, knowing that you’ll need a moment for the pain to subside into pleasure. Seokjin places kisses your shoulders as he waits for you to adjust to the feeling. You push your hips up, encouraging him to move. Dragging his cock out slowly, he pushes back down just as languidly. “Jin, please,” you beseech, goading him to go faster. The moment the word escapes your lips, Seokjin begins pounding into you relentlessly. He hastily places a pillow under your hips to angle yours better. The next thrust he gets in has you mewling, each stroke easily rubbing up against your g-spot.

Your thighs begin quivering, every fiber of your body ablaze with each plunge of your husband’s hips. Seokjin feels your impending orgasm with your cunt beginning to pulsate against his cock, and he moves one of his hands between your thighs and starts to toy vigorously with your clit.

“Fuck!” you scream, fisting the sheets that now haphazardly dangling from the bed. Your high hits you so strong, your pussy tightening, clamping around Seokjin. His thrusts begin to stutter as you continue to milk his cock. With one final push, Seokjin cums, releasing ropes of cum inside you. He stays on top of you for a moment, too exhausted and worn out to move an inch. Also, because he wishes that this time it finally gets you pregnant, that your earlier inclination to the idea of having a baby inside you is as enthralling as it is to him.

Seokjin finally pulls out of you with a small grunt, elbows that have been holding up his weight finally give in, breathing heavily as he falls to your side.

He hadn’t meant to stay this long.

In fact, when he heard the first moan that fell from your lips, he had sent the rest of the guards to go on patrol to give you and your husband the much-needed privacy. He had intended to keep lookout from the front of the hanok. With one more corridor to clear out before leaving, he took his steps with caution, knowing that this passage was the one next to your room. The palace’s wooden walls will never be thick enough to hide the sounds of pleasure. His ears are already ringing with the faint sound of your moans but there was one section where the sweet sound was most audible. The door to your room was slightly open, the light from your lamps passing through the narrow slit.

He tries to push away the temptation, reminding himself that he has other duties to attend to… right?

Surely, the rebellious troops would have been subdued before they reach the palace…right?

Ultimately, he can’t leave with you sounding so desperate and broken…right?

He knew his resolve was breaking with every step he took nearer towards the thin beam of light.  He takes the final step with bated breath, wincing when the wood creaks under his weight. He lets out a shaky exhale when he finally peeks through the crevice. Your bed is situated right across from where he’s watching – the whole scene like a live show from a festival. He knows this is wrong, that what happens inside the four walls of your chambers is none of his business but when he sees the king flip you and take you from behind, his lips part, suddenly out of breath like he’s the one pounding into you.  

The voyeur continues to watch the whole spectacle with an unrelenting gaze. He watches the unsuspecting royals get lost in their own world while he lingers in perverse amusement. The strain in his silk pants is getting painful, uncomfortable too when the tip of his cock brushes against the wet patch on the cloth. He reproaches himself for his lack of manners tonight but if this mischief shall reward him with a release later on, then he shall remain here, unperturbed.

Moments later Seokjin’s hips stutter and he feels his own hands lose rhythm as well. Your loud moans fill the room as you reach your high, your husband following. His hand moves faster than before, white spurts of cum coating his hand not long after. He shivers when he pulls his pants back up, the silk proving to be too much for the sensitive tip of his cock. When his eyes revert back to the crevice, he sees Seokjin trace patterns on your back while the both of you murmur softly in each other’s arms. Your husband gives you a chaste kiss, lips closing in on the shell on your ear as he whispers something that makes you giggle. He takes this as his cue to leave, hoping that no other guard has lingered around long enough to see him leave the house.

Fortunately, no one sees the dazed captain walk out of the hanok in the middle of the night.

You are momentarily awakened from a fleeting kiss placed on your cheek, the back of your hands rubbing at your drooping eyelids. Body still sore from your activities last night, you blindly reach out for the blue cloak in front of you as you call out your husband’s name. “I hadn’t meant to wake you from your slumber, my love. Go back to sleep.” He strokes your hair gently while humming a soft melody to lull you back to your slumber.

There’s an ache on his chest when he watches sleep take over you once more, soft snores escaping your lips. Seokjin wonders if he would get to see you this peaceful one more time. You shift in your sleep, the blanket revealing purplish marks littered across your chest. Normally, this would’ve sent all his blood pumping south but with the emotion weighing on his shoulders, all he’s thinking about is engraving your beauty into his memory.

The present disposition in his hands had monopolized his time and because of this he knew he had been neglecting you these past few weeks. He wasn’t able to check up on you, ask how your day went, or even join supper, hence your intimacies last night.  Although your husband knew that after all these years together, you were never one to demand affection because you were well aware of his duties as ruler of a nation. Funnily enough, it was he who yearned for that most of time, while you would remind him of his obligations with a chortling intonation.

Usually, you would push him away when he tries to lavish you with kisses even with the guards and court ladies present, but he knew deep inside that you secretly enjoyed them, cheeks turning a rosy red every time he teases you about it. Albeit being born into royalty, you were treated like a slave by your own step-mother so Seokjin knew it would have taken some time before he had successfully lured you out of your shell. And he knew he had forever to show you the love that you were deprived of. Or did he now?

He recalls the time you had both met in your secret rendezvous. It was a garden exhibiting the most gorgeous fusion of pink and green, cultivated to perfection by Seokjin himself and of course with the help of a few chosen gardeners. Included in the garden was a narrow passage with water directly flowing from the Gaeun River. The secluded site was a testament to Seokjin’s love for the color pink. Flowers of all shades of blush are scattered among the lush green grass, from Azaleas to Carnations to Peonies. ‘Most are from foreign lands’ he informs, carefully plucking out a flower and handing one to you. A blush instantly colors your cheeks at this and Seokjin finds it most endearing, unable to resist teasing you. “You seem to blend in just fine with my flowers,” he observes, poking your cheeks, “but you stand out the most.”

Amongst the rosy hued shrubs and mossy rocks, on a small slope stood a singular cherry blossom tree - your most favorite feature of all. Cherry blossoms had always been known to symbolize the transience of life and rebirth. True to your ancestors’ beliefs, this special tree was tangible proof of the metaphor. The tree had witnessed quite a number of your most cherished moments in life. This was where Seokjin brought you when you broke down into tears after escaping the southern palace, this was where he first pecked you on the cheek, and this same tree witnessed Seokjin’s humble request for your hand in marriage.

Regret weighs heavily on him. You were the only constant reality he had in this capricious life. You had been nothing but perfect, always by his side no matter what. Having to bid his farewell like this broke his heart but if he properly did so, it would probably break his heart all the more. Your husband had already made up his mind – he is to leave for the South before the dawn breaks.

Seokjin was hanging onto that small sliver of hope that a discussion on the dilemma may change their minds. The situation in the southern city had inevitably worsened but he had to try. He could be very persuasive if he wanted to, sure, but you always knew it wouldn’t work. Not by a long shot. You made sure to remind him of that fact. That’s why you never supported the idea of visiting the city especially at a time of agitation like this. The southerners are men honed by war and they are not called the nation’s keepers for nothing. They are willing to sacrifice lives rather than heed diplomacy. It had proved beneficial in the past when foreigners wanted to colonize your country, but with a turmoil conceived by its own countrymen, these people are all the more fueled to fight for what they believe in.

Then again, this was his decision. He had to try. He was willing to risk everything for his nation, even if it meant that this might be the last time he’ll be seeing your face. He wanted to be selfish, just this once, to give in to the matters of the heart, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did, then all his parent’s teachings would have been for nothing. Being born into royalty couldn’t have meant anything. Being the king then would lose its meaning.

With tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, he retrieves a scroll, his brush, and an ink block. ‘This all seems unreal’, Seokjin reels. He only takes out the three when he’s making a new proclamation or with pronouncements usually related to the duties of a king. You two could only stay apart for so long and at the end of the day you’d always find yourselves each other’s arms. Not once did he imagine having to write you a letter, let alone one bidding you farewell.

Patches of tears soften different spots on the previously coarse scroll. With dawn fast approaching, Seokjin ends his letter with a lingering kiss on the paper. He retrieves a flower that he’s plucked from the garden and places it together with the scroll he’s left on the bedside table. Seokjin kisses you on the cheek one last time, “Goodbye, my queen.”

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved. 

#ksmutclub #bangtanhq #hyunglinenetwork #btsghostie #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #bts fluff #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin smut #jeon jungkook x reader #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook

[makerkenzie]

Sansa learns the limits of Family.

An idea that keeps coming up in Sansa’s arc is what I describe as: “Family is not destiny.”

Does Sansa love her family? Of course. She loves them, she misses them, she will always regret not having more time with her mother and Robb. 

Westeros is a setting in which politics are tangled up with family dynamics. A noble family represents power as much as it represents love. Members of noble families, especially children, are treated as assets of their Houses before they’re seen as individuals. Examples: any noble marriage ever, fosterage, squiring, service, hostage-taking, and expectations of combat service. 

Sansa knows this; she’s lived it. Her marriage to Joffrey would’ve represented an alliance with House Baratheon and, because we’re talking about the royal family, it would’ve given House Stark much more influence on the governance of the realm. Her being kept as hostage was meant to affect her brother’s political ambitions. Her marriage to Tyrion was supposed to put House Stark’s assets under the Lannisters’ control. She grew up with Theon as a de facto sibling but his purpose in the Starks’ household was to keep his father under control. 

In this system, the family determines the individual’s reputation. Individuals from more powerful Houses are generally treated with more deference and generosity than those from poorer and lower-positioned Houses. From the perspective of a noble child, individuals from the “right” Houses are to be trusted and those from the “wrong” Houses are to be regarded with the most uncharitable assumptions.

In the culture of Westerosi nobility, one is viewed by one’s surname, first, and one’s actions...later. 

As the child of a Paramount-level family---especially, having grown up with loving parents and affectionate siblings---it would be understandable if Sansa bought into this culture. Her own mother’s House motto is “Family, Duty, Honor.” It would be understandable if Sansa were inclined to conflate family ties with one’s sense of duty and honor, and assume everyone else did the same. 

Having been forcibly separated from her family for so long, while kept hostage by people who don’t care to make her feel safe and welcome...it would be understandable if Sansa became more entrenched in the belief of surname as a representation of character.

She’s going in the opposite direction.

Sansa has interacted enough with the royal family to see that they are not a monolith. The non-viability of her marriage to Tyrion is a separate issue from his behavior. When Aunt Lysa asks, Sansa recalls Tyrion as...kind. 

She knows Podrick Payne is related to Ilyn Payne and she doesn’t hold that against him. He’s a nice kid trying to survive in the Red Keep and he didn’t ask to be born into the same House as the official headsman. 

In an early chapter in AGOT, King Robert is making a loud drunken scene at Cersei, and Jaime is the only man there who tries to get him to settle down. Even after Robert knocks him on his ass, he keeps his cool. This is in Sansa’s POV. Contrast that with Ser Barristan, and Renly, and oh, all the other men at the feast who could have intervened, and didn’t. 

When Joffrey was having his Kingsguard knights beat her, Tyrion was the one who put a stop to it, and Sandor Clegane--a kingsguard at that point--used his cloak to cover her. This happens in front of the court in the throne room. Tyrion’s move is the bolder one but Sandor’s kindness is still meaningful. By putting that cloak on Sansa’s body, he is quietly showing the court that he sympathizes with the Stark girl, not the king. Later, he rescues Sansa from the mob in Flea Bottom, and not on Joffrey’s orders. She remembers Sandor coming to her aid. Meanwhile his older brother is leading the Lannister troops’ invasion of the Riverlands. Sandor is nothing like his brother and Sansa knows that. 

She knows Tyrion is not like Cersei. Tommen is not like Joffrey. Podrick is not like Ser Ilyn. Jaime is not like the other Kingsguard. Sandor is not like his brother, not like the other Lannister vassals, not like the other Kingsguard, either. 

Either way, Littlefinger takes her out of the Red Keep and up to Aunt Lysa and Cousin Robin at the Eyrie. It’s the first time she’s been around blood relations since her father was executed. First of all, Aunt Lysa starts talking about marrying Sansa to Robin, which, first of all, yuck, and second: because Lysa is the only adult family member presently available to Sansa, she’s not really in a position to refuse. Anyway, because Sansa can’t catch a break from people trying to plant their flags on her ass, Littlefinger starts molesting her. Aunt Lysa, being the nearest equivalent to a parent in Sansa’s life...treats her like a homewrecker.

Aunt Lysa was born into House Tully, the one whose motto is “Family, Duty, Honor.” When she sees her new husband behaving inappropriately with her teenage niece, she tries to toss the girl out the Moon Door. Is that what Family-Duty-Honor looks like? Granted, Lord Hoster fucked up with Lysa pretty hard, but there’s no need to take that out on your sister’s daughter. 

Now this much is bad enough: Sansa’s own aunt is trying to kill her out of jealousy. There’s that. The much bigger issue is where the conversation goes as Littlefinger talks Lysa down from the literal and figurative ledge. She mentions that she killed her first husband, Hand of the King Lord Jon Arryn, using the poison Littlefinger gave her. She wrote to Catelyn, at Littlefinger’s instructions, and told her the Lannisters killed Jon. 

If we recall: Ned and Cat spent all of AGOT trying to prove the Lannisters killed Jon Arryn. The fallout from that investigation started the War of Five Kings and cost Ned his life. Because of that fallout, Sansa was held hostage at the Red Keep and forced into marriage with Tyrion. Because of that fallout, Cat and Robb have just been murdered at the Red Wedding and Arya is off who knows where doing Seven only knows what. Far as Sansa knows, her brothers Bran and Rickon were killed by Theon Greyjoy and she has no way of knowing Arya is even alive. Aunt Lysa is the only family member left in a position to take care of Sansa now, because of the war she and Littlefinger started. 

In more news of Littlefinger’s machinations: because he conspired with the Tyrells to frame Tyrion for Joffrey’s murder, Sansa’s life at the Red Keep went from uncomfortable to untenable, with Littlefinger being the only one ready to rescue her. She’s dependent on him because of his political sabotage, so now he’s molesting her at her aunt’s house, and her aunt has to be coaxed and cajoled out of killing her. 

It’s because of Littlefinger’s machinations that the Lannisters became the Starks’ enemies. Granted there’s no version of this story in which the AGOT-era Starks and Lannisters are buddies, but there could’ve been a story where they haven’t been actively trying to kill each other. 

Sansa’s been places and met people enough to know the Lannisters are not consistently villainous and her own family are not reliably safe. 

Unbeknownst to her Sansa (yet), Tyrion’s squire Podrick Payne is traveling around with a big warrior-lady carrying a Lannister-branded Valyrian steel sword. A gift from Jaime Lannister. Cersei’s twin brother, and the one man with the backbone to ask the drunken king to stop embarrassing himself. Unbeknownst to Sansa, Ser Jaime has just deserted his army because he’s helping Brienne and Podrick rescue Sansa out from under Cersei. 

They have this assignment because Catelyn stepped away from her animosity to the Lannisters for a moment long enough to give Ser Jaime a chance to do the right thing. That Jaime is rejecting the Lannister regime in favor of Stark-Tully interests has a lot to do with Brienne’s influence, while the likely success of their mission will probably have to do with Sansa’s conduct at the Red Keep. It’s Podrick Payne who’ll recognize Sansa with her hair dyed brown, and Podrick who has the best chance to convince Sansa that Lady Brienne is good and Ser Jaime is on their side. 

Winter is Coming. The Stark motto isn’t nihilistic; it is a call to action. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. It’s the spirit of mutual protection, care, and cooperation that keeps the pups alive in the darkest and meanest times. 

Sansa is gradually learning that “the pack” isn’t just those who share her family tree. The pack is made up of the ones who show up. When the wolves are tossed to the four winds, the pack may welcome the strength of lions. Unbeknownst to Sansa, the Hound showed up for Arya and may yet appear and join her pack. The real danger is the mockingbird. 

It was Sansa’s own family---her mother’s sister and foster brother---who created the conflict that drove the Starks into war with the Lannisters. Now it’s Lannister associates coming to her rescue. There may yet be a story in which the wolf and the lion work together and learn to trust each other. Sansa can help write that story. 

#asoiaf meta #sansa stark #westerosi culture #noble Houses #house stark #house lannister #littlefucker started the war #lysa arryn helped #brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #podrick payne #sandor clegane #tyrion lannister #arya stark #catelyn stark #cersei lannister #robert baratheon #joffrey baratheon #tommen baratheon #asoiaf themes #asoiaf speculation #theon greyjoy #the wolf and the lion

[sevfanfic]

Hello! I’d first like to apologize for the long and unexpected hiatus. I’ve been dealing with a lot of personal and family issues recently. The pandemic has also made work stressful so I’ve been focusing on self care. I hope you all are doing well and staying safe! Chapter 19 is finally here! Thank you for your patience. ❤️

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 19: The Burden of Love

Word count: 1,594

Severus sat across from Minerva tapping a finger pensively on his thigh. His long sleeves covering the tension that coursed through his muscles as he listened to the Headmistress mull over possible reasons for a dementor attacking someone on school grounds. None of them made a bit of sense to him but with a sudden flash from a memory, the tapping stopped.

“What about that King woman?” His brow pulled together as he tried to remember more of what she had said. “What was it that she said before she left?”

“Are you mad? She’s from the Ministry, they would never condone such-” Minerva looked at the man across from her wide-eyed and taken aback when he cut her off.

“‘We’ll be watching.’ That’s what she said.” He sat forward with a new conviction in the beat of his heart, his blood pounded in his ears with every beat. “It was them.”

“Impossible,” Minerva shook her head as if trying to rattle away the idea, “they would never.”

“Oh, really? Are you sure?” The slow steady voice from Severus did nothing to help quell the stress that now hung in the air between them. “They are scared, frightened of the past repeating itself. Why else would they form that silly little group of grunts.” His voice lowered as he spoke like he felt prying eyes and ears on him. Minerva swallowed hard as she listened and when the cogs that turned in her mind presented her with a disturbing realization she spoke.

“Perhaps they know something,” she fidgeted in her chair uncomfortably.

“Perhaps.” The word pushed itself through Severus' teeth and he raised a brow curiously. He sat back in his chair, his back stiff, and began tapping his finger against his thigh again. “You don’t think…” his words trailed off into the now stifling air. He didn’t need to finish the question, Minerva knew exactly what he was asking and the thought of it made her skin crawl.

Severus clenched his fists, his nails dug into his palms painfully as he allowed his mind to conjure images of the past that made his stomach twist painfully. The idea of being confronted with

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” She did her best to sound convincing enough to portray a facade of confidence and composure but she was hardly able to convince herself. “Right now, we have no proof to corroborate any of this. We must consider all possibilities, but first,” she clasped her hands together and smiled, “will you and Y/N be joining us tonight for the Holiday party?”

“Must we?” Severus rolled his eyes at the woman who smiled excitedly at him. He knew the answer was ‘yes'.

“Don’t be silly, Severus.” Minerva waved a hand lazily.

Severus was not interested in socializing when the thought that you could be in danger loomed over his mind. He sighed at the woman across from him and begrudgingly agreed. The conversation drifted to topics about school and students. Severus felt more distracted than ever, consumed by a worry he was not familiar with.

He left the office in a cloud of thought, his mind flurried around him like the snow outside the towering castle. The twisting in his stomach made his skin crawl, he hated this feeling and began resenting the fact that you made him feel so much. He knew you weren’t to blame for his emotions. He felt that he was beginning to care too much, letting himself become too exposed. In his mind, you were holding too much power, too much leverage. Severus wanted to believe that he’d changed, that the idea of finding love was attainable for him without the fear he had worked so hard to leave in the past.

Lost in thought and without realizing it, he walked straight into someone. At first, he did not notice who it was but when he heard your voice he blinked away the fogginess.

“Are you alright? You look lost.” You commented on his blank facial expression jokingly but when he maintained his frown you spoke with more concern, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, excuse me.” Then he moved to step around you and you grabbed at his arm to stop him. He looked at you for a brief moment before looking away down the long corridor.

“You’re lying.” You squeezed his arm but the warmth you had come to expect for you was not there. The stone-like expression intensified the downward-pointing corners of his mouth.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” The tone of his voice cut like a dull knife. He knew what he was doing but he couldn’t help but feel irritated by you and the power you had over his normally well-controlled emotions. Severus kept his eyes away from yours. He stood so still he seemed to not take any breaths until you released him and walked away. Maybe this was a mistake, a lapse in judgment on his part. It didn’t matter anymore because he knew how he just treated you was going to change how you viewed him. Severus felt as if the fabric of his robes were constricting against him. His pace quickened as the words that came from his lips began to leave a bitter taste. The tightness in his chest grew, the corners of his being began folding in on him. He couldn’t determine if he was upset because he hurt you or angry that you made him feel such emotion at all. He was unsure of how to feel and the uncertainty terrified him more than he was willing to admit. The fear of the unknown is what scared him most. It threw him into a spiral of doubt and the only coping mechanism he knew was to push the source away. The sound of his footsteps echoed and when he approached the door of his office he stopped just short of the dark wooden entrance. He paused his mind for a moment and pondered the idea of losing you but as he imagined his life without you he felt an ache grip at his chest. But as quickly as the gripping pain ensued he reinforced his walls and pushed aside the thought of you and the idea of having a child. It was too much for him to carry, a burden of love that he was not ready for.

-

As you watched Severus disappear a sharp pain crept its way into your heart and intensified with every beat. His words had pierced you like a dagger, you knew that he was closing you out. He was gone. Maybe all of it was too good to be true after all, you knew he was emotionally fragile and maybe you had pushed him too far. You brought your hand to hold at your stomach as tears began to swell in your eyes. The breath in your chest hitched with every attempt you made to hold yourself together. The world around you seemed to disappear, the winter air and grey overcast sky faded into a darkened fog that engulfed you. What am I going to do?

You don’t remember how you ended up back in your room. When you awoke from a tearful and restless nap it was pitch black outside. The moaning of the wind as it moved through the spaces between the towering castle gave the night an eerie feeling. You sat up and the cold air that touched your bare shoulders sent a shiver coiling down your spine. As you blinked away the dryness in your eyes you felt a breeze brush against you. At first, you figured it was a draft but when the air that pushed against you a second time seemed to grab at your hair you flinched. You looked around the dark room, furrowing your brow as you attempted to make out a darkened figure against the wall across from you. The large area was impossibly dark, it seemed like a void had split the air and was swallowing any form of light into the inky blackness. Your arm instinctively began sliding toward where your wand sat on your bedside table. When your fingers curled around your wand a loud whooshing sound pounded against your ears. The blackened area grew and the air around you seemed to disappear like you had been sitting in a vacuum. With no breathable air, you gasped helplessly and aimed your wand at the figure as it shifted and twitched until the shape of a person emerged. The faceless person stepped closer. You continued to struggle for air as the sound grew louder and pushed against your eardrums. Panicked heartbeats pounded in your chest when you realized the figure was reaching for your stomach. You tried to move away but every muscle in your body burned with lack of oxygen. A booming gurgle voice bubbled from the shadow as it engulfed you. Suddenly air flooded the room and spun like a storm at sea. The rush suddenly filled your lungs as you gaped at the figure before you.

“The end is near, for he shall rise again. From the flames will labor bear the one true vessel from which he will reign.” As the last word was spoken the air whipped away the black figure and all was still. You drew in a shaky breath. With your wand clenched tightly against your palm, you moved to get out of your bed. The room began to spin as you stood, you became lightheaded with the sudden movement and your vision went blurry.

TAGS: @ayamenimthiriel @marvelschriss @debiraquel @mitsuhkai @the-not-so-iconic @darkthought15 @rubym13 @4everflowercore @otherxstories @thottywithoutthebody @setsuna-meiou31 @krazykatkay456

[victorsandvanquishers]

Rang de Basanti about Asta and Yuno... revolutionary gays....

Anon, please take these revolutionary gays from the perspective of their revolutionary father, one Orsi Orfai, featuring Ralph Niaflem. Enjoy! (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)

And as previously noted, Bollywood Prompts are now closed! Four more stories left to be posted for the year! Thank you for reading. (~˘▾˘)~

*

“I had a feeling he would grow up to become someone regardless of where he was raised,” Ralph Niaflem said softly, eyes fixed on the lukewarm tea in his lap. “Our king and queen, my father... we all put our faith in him that night. We knew that one day, he would grow up to be a hero – our hero.”

“I'm sure they did,” Orsi Orfai replied with a sad smile. Unlike the former who's eyes were still on his teacup, Orsi looked at the figure still recovering in his home, a man who claimed to be a loyal retainer of his son Yuno.

His son Yuno, who apparently had a name and a history now.

“He was destined for greatness when he came into this world,” Ralph Niaflem continued with a touch of reverence. “We built the Resistance on the hope that he would return to us one day.” The younger man sighed and rubbed one of his wet eyes. “We couldn't raise him ourselves because we were scared the Dark Triad would find out and kill him, so my father...” Ralph Niaflem's eyes suddenly shot up from his cup and looked to Orsi who was sitting on the opposite end of the small room. “You have to understand, we had no choice! My father, he-” Ralph Niaflem's words hitched in his throat and he choked back a sob. “He...”

“He did what he had to do,” Orsi finished for the younger man. Somehow, he found it in himself not to snap at the bedridden man that his Yuno, his son Yuno, was much more than the castaway of a royal family from a distant land, that he too loved and was loved, and that if the younger man's father hadn't brought Yuno to the church that freezing night, then Yuno would never have met his one great love.

Orsi found himself grinning. “I've never once regretted taking him in,” he sniffed with a wet smile. “Neither him nor Asta. They're my precious sons, and they'll always be welcome here. This village,” Orsi threw up his hands and gestured to the small room, “this church – this is their home.”

Something seemed to click in Ralph Niaflem's eyes. “Asta... was that the other child the nun was speaking of?”

“That's him!” Orsi blurted a bit too quickly, but found himself laughing heartily anyway, the tears that were just beginning to pool in his eyes already dried and forgotten. “I always assumed the same person had left the children, but judging from your stories, your father left only one baby at our doorstep.”

Ralph nodded, and the distant look in his eyes only grew heavier. “Many of the other children, sons and daughters of loyal retainers, they either fled underground or to remote regions of the nation. I and some of the others who were a bit older, we were left in the hands of the Resistance. The others...” Ralph toyed with the cup of cold tea in his hand. “... Let's just say that we have quite a few mountains the Dark Triad has yet to overcome.”

“Your land lives in perpetual winter, does it not?” Orsi asked carefully.

Ralph blinked. “Ah, yes. Snow...” Finally, a small smile began to play on the younger man's lips. “We have four different mountain ranges, and the largest of them border the sea. You've probably heard the stories...”

“The coldest sea in the world,” Orsi nodded. “Is that...” Orsi swallowed the pain in his throat. “Is that where Yuno was born?”

“No,” Ralph smiled halfheartedly. “He was born in the capital. Our city is far, far away from the sea. It's true our lands are forever trapped in snow, but there's beauty in the light after a snowstorm. It's the clearest sky you'll ever see in your life, and it's even clearer by the ocean. When Prince Yuno comes ho-”

“-Yuno's home is right where you're sitting,” Orsi interrupted abruptly.

Ralph Niaflem gaped. “I-I didn't mean...”

Orsi sighed and chuckled dryly. “I know exactly what you meant, but it would behoove you to remember that Yuno didn't join the Magic Knights to become your ruler. He became a Magic Knight...” Orsi found that he couldn't finish the sentence, when Yuno himself had never finished the sentence.

Ralph Niaflem seemed to find his composure again. “Why did Prince Yuno join your military?”

Orsi remembered a church where once upon a time, few prayed within its walls, and even fewer slept near its hearth. He remembered it before the gaggle of children who scurried from one end of the church to the other. He remembered it before it'd been painted with laughter and joy.

He remembered it before he took in two little children, freezing in the cold with no one to keep them safe.

“Out of love,” Orsi finished curtly. “He joined for love. Love of country, love of family – our Yuno, he's always been a sensible lad. Has a great sense of honor, and cares deeply for his family. He's our pride, that one. And...”

Orsi remembered those years before the rest of the children arrived, remembered watching Asta and Yuno grow together, like vines that accidentally entangled in infancy, but so reverent of each other that they found a way to grow around each other while anchoring one another. He remembered when the other children came into his arms, and when the church became a orphanage, and not just a church where an old man raised a pair of orphans. He remembered when their world blossomed around them, and love came in different forms, both through spoken word and immediate action.

“And?” Ralph Niaflem inquired from his place on the old bed.

Orsi remembered a little boy with eyes that seemed to be perpetually dipped in equal parts gold and grief. That little boy never strayed from the other little boy's side, the one that bore unruly ash grey hair and a pair of eyes that glistened like the verdant forests that surrounded their beautiful little village.

Orsi remembered a little boy who fell in love before he even knew what the word meant.

“And he has someone,” Orsi enunciated clearly. “His home is here, sir, and so is his heart.”

Ralph seemed taken aback. “He has a girlfriend?”

“N-now, wait a minute, who said anything about a girl!?” Orsi sputtered, a deep blush blooming on his face.

“Oh,” Ralph said dryly. “I see... I mean, I shouldn't be surprised. He's young, popular, it would be expected, wouldn't it? To experiment with these things.”

Orsi didn't know why, but he felt vaguely disgusted that the other man would frame it in such a way. Orsi had never expected to watch a child fall in love with his best friend, but love was love, wasn't it? He never expected to have to pretend that he didn't see Yuno's gaze follow every little step Asta took towards the future, and he never expected to be the one to say out loud what Yuno himself had never once admitted in his life.

And yet, Orsi found that he couldn't lie to the man who'd crawled out of the past to come claim one of Orsi's sons as his own. Orsi couldn't allow that, not when Yuno was Asta's other half.

“His heart is set on a particular individual,” Orsi said firmly, “and I'll have you know that I plan to invite the entire town to their wedding!”

“Oh... I see...”

“If it's a king you need, then you won't find him here,” Orsi stated, cutting to the chase. “Yuno's home is here in Hage, and so is his beloved. Those are bonds not even blood can tear apart.”

“And despite those bonds, he is Prince Yuno of House Grinberryall, heir to the Spade Kingdom's throne,” Ralph reminded him with a curt look. “He'll have to acknowledge the truth, even if he can't accept it.”

Orsi thought about the little boy who fell in love every day of his life, always with the same person, always wearing his heart on his sleeve as he followed that person all the way into the Magic Knights, a person who also grew up to be a hero of his people, a hero named Asta.

Orsi found that he couldn't stop the smile from blooming on his face. “He doesn't have to. Yuno has his heart. When it comes time for him to choose, he'll choose who he's always chosen.”

“And who is that?” Ralph challenged.

“You'll know, eventually.” Orsi Orfai retorted with a soft chuckle. “I'd like to see you try, sir. A word of advice from an old man like me? It's not worth standing in the way of true love. Only the truly blessed can experience it in their lifetime. Yuno has experienced it, and he's worked hard for it. No kingdom is worth the price of separation, I'll have you know. He couldn't even stop himself from going after the Wizard King because of that boy! What makes you think he'll leave him behind for your castle and skies? His past may have been in your hands, but his future is in another's. Don't take it to heart, sir, but that is the truth. What is a king to a mortal in love? Nothing. A king is nothing, not when one's beloved is right beside them. Just you wait, you'll know his name one day, the boy who has our Yuno's heart, and you'll understand. You'll understand.”

And Orsi knew that, that day would come soon, and that when it arrived, they'd all rejoice.

After all, what better ending could a father hope for?

*

#Black Clover #Orsi Orfai #yunoasu #yuno #asta #avafanfics

[a-libra-writes]

When the GoT Characters Realize They’re In Love With You

LETS be CUTE. ended up longer than I intended? o well. this was requested! if i forgot a fav, just look longingly into my ask box.

In this preference, the following characters will be figuring their shit out: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Dolorous Edd, Mance Rayder, Tormund Giantsbane, Theon Greyjoy, Yara Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jamie Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn, Petyr Baelish, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Tully, Edmure Tully, Brienne of Tarth, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Beric Dondarrion

NED STARK

When you two were “courting” - really, it was mostly long walks and you both talking and grinning for hours - Ned wondered if the happy, comforted feeling he got around you was love. He didn’t have much experience, admittedly, but he knew he wanted to marry you and be around you like this all the time. When you two finally did marry and he held you in his arms that evening, he wondered about it again. This must have been love; the feeling was stronger now. He almost didn’t want to let you go in the morning.

This seemed to keep happening. Each time he was sure, you’d do something lovely and charming all over again. Whether it was as simple as giving him sweet encouragement before he left you for the day or gently teasing him while you both curled up in bed, Ned just kept wanting and loving you more. If you ever asked him when he fell for you, Ned didn’t think he could answer. It felt more like his feelings kept snowballing from the moment you two met.

ROBB STARK

Robb had liked you a lot from the first day he met you, many years ago. You were a lot like Arya, wanting to run and play with the other children at Winterfell, heedless of how dirty your dresses and face were by the end of the day. You hit each other with sticks while playing knights, you explored the Godswood with Jon and pretended not to be scared when dusk started falling, and you were the worst about pulling Robb into your pranks on Theon.

Your father became sick, and you couldn’t visit Winterfell as often anymore. Robb was surprised how much he missed you. Even when you sent letters and he wrote back, they just made him feel gloomy. Even after years passed and the letters trickled to nothing, Robb thought about you with a full heart. When King Robert was coming to Winterfell, he heard you were, too, and the young lord was admittedly more excited about the latter. 

You arrived at Winterfell with your family, almost in slow motion. Robb couldn’t believe the cute, small girl he played with had become a beautiful young lady, in a fine silk gown and furs. You gave him a big hug, like you always used to do, and Robb felt like his heart was going to pop as he returned it. His feelings overwhelmed him, but he knew they were true. He just needed a good time to tell you.

SANSA STARK

You two hit it off right away at King’s Landing, far before her world fell to pieces. Sansa was drawn to your beauty and easygoingness right away, and you two became inseparable. It was different from her friendship with Jeyne, and the little chats she had with other ladies growing up. You were her dearest friend, she told herself. Later, when it all became dark and horrible, you were the only one still there, risking your life and your family’s just to help a “traitor’s sister”. You were her very, very dearest friend.

On the terrible days, she’d think on how protective and kind-hearted you were, a real knight hiding in a silk dress. One evening you sneaked into her bedchamber, bringing treats she liked and brushing her hair in an attempt to cheer her. You thought you were doing a poor job, but Sansa held you close and rested her head against your chest. As you pet her hair and brought her close, she had a sudden wish that you’d kiss her. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of it before, and so Sansa sat there, snuggling into you and hoping somehow you’d understand her feelings.

JON SNOW

It hadn’t been too hard for Jon to form a little crush on you once he figured out you were actually a girl disguised as a brother of the Night’s Watch. It felt a little silly, because it’s not as if he liked you just because of gender. You were friendly and helpful, treating him fairly from the first day he arrived, and he was impressed with your skill with the sword. No, his crush started up because of all these things, and once he learned your secret, it was like you both had a bond. You could rely on each other more, and he felt like you were more free around him. You didn’t have to mask your voice or keep your head down as much.

The crush began to grow into something more without his realization. It grew every time you two shared a joke, every time you mended his clothes with such care, or messed up his hair and bluntly told him to cut it already. Jon was willing to admit it to himself, fine, he was in love. He didn’t want to tell you. First, it would make things complicated with the vows you both took, and secondly, he didn’t want to mess up a friendship he held so dear. It didn’t stop him from sulking or looking wistfully after you when he thought no one was looking - more than once Edd had to pull him back to reality with a hit to the head.

BENJEN STARK

It was actually adorable how you stammered when he mentioned knowing your little secret. How did you manage to fool the whole Night’s Watch, with a reaction like that? Benjen assured you that he wouldn’t tell, but he made it clear he thought you had made a mistake. The Wall wasn’t a place for a woman, but he’d heard good things from the others. You worked hard. Out of a sense of protectiveness, Benjen always visited you when he came back from rangering. Just a few times he’d taken you with him, but that’s when you really got to know each other. Benjen found that he liked the sassiness you hid from the others, and you were more than glad to give him lip when you felt he deserved it.

Benjen initially thought of you as something of a little sister, but those feelings began to dull and be replaced with something stronger. The more you smiled, rolled your eyes or even shoved him whenever you both joked, the more he craved it. Sometimes Benjen would laugh off his feelings, shaking his head at how foolish he was being. Other times, usually when he was alone and without you, he’d dwell on them with more solemnity. There was never one moment when he had a realization, it was almost as if the idea began whispering to him, day after day, and he steadily listened more and more. 

JORY CASSEL

Jory’s feelings initially started friendly, as he was often cordial with the visiting lords and ladies of Winterfell. Right away he liked your own friendliness and willingness to talk, especially since some of the better off ladies often glanced right past him. You were so easy to talk to, and pretty, to be blunt about it. When you visited, he was always pleasantly surprised you remembered to come see him.

Something shifted in your friendship eventually, or maybe it was Jory’s feelings that were changing. He started to notice the dresses you wore, his eyes lingering on your hips, and how soft your hands were when you took his. He remembered the things that made you laugh, and he found himself taking you places around Winterfell and Winter Town he thought you’d like. He dared to ask when you’d come back to Winterfell, and then he’d wait for you. Jory had to face his feelings when his uncle good naturedly joked about how often you two were together, “like there’s a wedding on the way”, and after blushing to his ears, Jory couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

DOLORUS EDD

Liking the only girl in the Night’s Watch - one who was disguised as a man, no less - was so cliche that it almost gave Edd a headache to think about. Thank the gods the others were too stupid to figure it out, and although you eventually trusted Jon and Sam with your secret, Edd was the first. The three of them made a point to protect you, and while Sam and Jon might occassionally blush at your smile or something you said, Edd was positive he was the only one feeling these stupid things.

You two were together the most, after all, having the same work assignments. Even if you were painfully optimistic and sometimes a bit naive, you were sweet. Dressing as shoddy as the rest of them and enduring the same conditions did little to diminish the way your eyes twinkled, as if you weren’t stranded on the forgotten edge of the world. Edd spent many nights, often bunking right next to you, grumbling and cursing his luck. He’d rather not ruin the friendship he admittedly cherished, and at least he could admit that. 

MANCE RAYDER

He knew you were clever right from the start, like you could see through him and all the men around you. You wouldn't say much, just watch him with those eyes he liked so much. Eventually you became part of Mance's inner circle, trusted as much as Tormund, a trusted advisor who became a friend. Sometimes in the evenings you'd lean on him and he'd run a hand through your hair while humming one of his silly songs, or he'd play that damned lute and wink at you from across the room. 

Mance was quite aware of his growing crush on you, and he didn't hide it. He wouldn't call it "love" just yet, but it didn't take long before he would. He wasn't sure when it started, but suddenly things felt a little duller when you were away. When you leaned on him, he couldn't resist giving a peck on your brow. He figured he had plenty of time to tell you. 

TORMUND GIANTSBANE

You already knew Tormund liked you, he hardly made a secret of it. He was always loudly telling others how great you two would be together, he often tried to impress you in battle or during spars, and you knew he admired your skills in battle as well as your beauty. Tormund didn’t want to rush you into anything, of course, but he also couldn’t help but wear his feelings on his sleeves. It was just the sort of man he was. Even if you didn’t want him, he’d still want to fight alongside you, and drink with you afterward. You were a fun and lively person, a damned good warrior, and his wounded pride would get over it.

As Mance’s plans began to progress and the cold crept closer, Tormund began to feel differently. He started to worry about you and became protective. The future was becoming uncertain, and even among that uncertainty, you were rallying your men and keeping that fearless look he loved so much. He could admit that to himself, he did love you, and he’d do his damnedest to fight by your side until the very end.

THEON GREYJOY

Theon was a master of deflecting his feelings and lying to himself. A seasoned artist, one could say, and he certainly wasn’t going to fall over his feet for some girl. Granted, this was the most spirited girl he’d ever known, someone who didn’t glare daggers or whisper behind his back when he arrived at Winterfell all those years ago. A girl who didn’t take his shit, often dragged him to play with her as often as she pulled him to the archery range and demanded lessons. A girl who started whooping and hugging him when she hit her first bullseye.

A girl who was a young woman now, one who still whooped when she hit her mark and looked at him with a smirk. You still elbowed him for being a jerk, but now you’d kiss him when he said something sweet. You both still liked to sit on the top of Winterfell’s walls and watch the sunset, but now Theon had to start admitting to himself that he was spending more time watching the sun reflect off your eyes and hair than paying attention to what you were saying.

YARA GREYJOY

Yara was already fond of you on her ship and in bed - for the former, you were reliable and fierce but could follow orders. For the latter, it was the same, although she preferred it when you acted up and told her what to do. You and Yara did little to hide your relationship, and anyone opposing it would be lucky to get just a fist to the teeth. You both weren’t exclusive, and you hadn’t talked about any “deep” feelings. She was more often than not with you, drinking and fighting and screwing. 

You began to notice how irritable she was becoming when you'd flirt with others, especially women. Neither of you acknowledged jealousy, because that would mean acknowledging other things. Those nameless feelings ended up hitting Yara hard one evening, when you were sitting on her bed in nothing but her shirt. You were discussing something about the ships, but she kept focusing on the hickeys she left on your neck and thighs. The fact that you could leave tomorrow and be with someone else, anyone else, was filling her with discomfort. It didn’t feel like possessiveness; Yara wasn’t that sort of woman … but it did feel like something she had to finally address.

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

Daenerys was fond of your boldness. No matter if you were facing opponents in battle or butting heads with Jorah, you said what you meant, often with a furrowed brow and pouting lips that were too cute. You were many other things, too, capable and intelligent and kind. When she was still mourning her sun and stars, travelling across that vast desert of nothing, all the deceit in Qarth - you were there at her side, with that boldness and honesty that sometimes drove her up a wall. 

You were a close friend, the closest she’s ever had, and it was only sometimes that she daydreamed about you sharing her bed. On an otherwise normal morning, you came back from scouting with a wound. Daenerys tended it herself while scolding you. You just smiled at her, a little embarrassed at getting a “told you so” from your khaleesi. Drogon interrupted by perching on your shoulder and curiously picking at your hair. Daenerys was stunned, as he was the most temperamental of the three dragonlings and he allowed you to touch his neck and snout. 

“Sometimes when you’re away he’ll come see me.” You shrugged. “He never stays long. I think he just wants my food.”

It brightened her to see her favorite person being accepted by her children, and all at once the indecision in her mind stopped. If her dragons trusted and accepted you, then she’d let her feelings blossom. 

JORAH MORMONT

It was easy enough to get a fluttering in his heart whenever you smiled at him or nudged him, telling him to lighten up a little, so Jorah didn’t think too much of it. You were a pretty, young girl who gave her kindness easily. It was also easy enough to get a little twinge of jealousy when you joked with others the way you did him, but it was a foolish feeling to set aside. He began to notice that you’d only go to him for certain things, like training with a sword like Westerosi did, help with treating a wounded man, or to ask a myriad of questions about what it was like across the sea. 

He felt his feelings were a bit inappropriate, given the age difference, but Jorah was often at mercy to them. He at least knew when his crush had grown to something much deeper; he could pinpoint the moment. During a great feast the Dothraki were throwing, he stayed up with you, and you dozed off on his shoulder, holding onto his arm. Even when Jorah tried to move you somewhere comfortable, you stubbornly clung to him. It was just so endearing and unexpected, his cheeks were flushed the whole time as he finally pried you off and carried you to your tent.

MISSANDEI

She initially regarded you as another loyal follower to Daenerys, albeit one who used her sword more than her words. As Missandei began to gradually lower her walls and learn to be a person again, she found herself appreciating your outgoing personality, even if it could be overwhelming at times. You certainly went out of your way to help her feel more comfortable with new situations, you liked explaining things to her, and you listened and appreciated when she did the same for you. It was odd to have smiles come so easily now, she just couldn’t help it when you said something funny or gave her such genuine gratitude. 

Truthfully, Missandei didn’t think she’d have a chance to feel something like this. It was scary, but exciting. It was something she could call her’s. The idea was so novel that Missandei almost didn’t notice just how much her feelings were growing. On a whim, she decided to wear a necklace with a little charm you carved for her. It made her happy, but what was even better was the look on your face when you noticed her wearing it. Missandei realized she wanted to see that silly, precious look on your face all the time, and she was proud she was the cause of it.

GREY WORM

This was a strange new path he found himself in, but he’d follow it head on and never look back. Grey Worm had a name that was his now, a leader he could follow, although not everything was so simple. This new world he was let into could be confusing and sometimes overwhelming, but you were there to guide him with patience. You were another warrior of the khaleesi, and he admired the strength of your resolve paired with a gentleness he soaked up. Grey Worm had something to look forward to: The impromptu reading lessons you gave him, some new fruit you wanted him to try, even just telling him to look up and ask what he saw in the clouds. Every day you gave him something new. 

Missandei was the one who brought it up when Grey Worm described his feelings. It was painful and wonderful at the same time. He needed words to attach to these strange new sensations. Missandei suggested that he think for a long time about you, and what you meant to him. It didn’t take long for Grey Worm to come up with that - you were someone special and irreplaceable, someone he wanted to protect. The word “future” was one he liked, the idea that he could be at your side, from days to months to years.

TYWIN LANNISTER

You had taken to the role of “second wife” better than anyone anticipated, including Tywin himself. You had a serene grace, a quiet dignity, an elegance to all you did. All fine traits for a lady, but it was that razor cunning that he never accounted for. It continued to take him off guard, when he thought he was well beyond surprising. You handled the household, courtiers and lords with equal competence and refinement.

There was a parlor you favored because it’s massive windows overlooked the sea. Initially, Tywin rarely bothered you at these times, even if it was on the way to his study. Now he found himself lingering in the doorway. Like always, you rested against a collection of pillows, a book in your lap, a fine dress of crimson pooled around your legs.

In him grew an old foreign feeling, a searing emotion that felt more than fondness, one he didn’t want to name.You glanced up and noticed him there, and gave him a smile that just made the longing worse. The Lady of Casterly Rock, not “the second wife”, regarding her husband with a distinct warmth in her eyes. Tywin wouldn’t join you just then, but that evening you’d notice a tenderness as he held you. 

TYRION LANNISTER

Tyrion was anticipating you’d cry. Maybe throw a few glasses around, scream or try to beg. Maybe he had been spending too much time around his sister in the months as Hand - you did no such thing. Instead, you greeted him with civility. The marriage was thought up by both your fathers, sprung upon the two of you out of nowhere. You were such a pretty girl, Tyrion thought. He pitied you, but you had no such pity in your eyes. 

You made an effort in getting to know him. Tyrion felt he should return the same effort, but his walls began to steadily fall as you two talked and visited more. You had similar taste in books, for one. Tyrion was proud of how he could get you in stitches, and you liked the discussions you two held long into the night. This is good, Tyrion thought. An arranged marriage, where the two parties respected one another, even became friends? You two were luckier than most.

Still, it sat strangely with Tyrion after a while. On an evening when he was reading in bed, you rested your head on his chest and you talked for a while. He was sure his hammering heart would wake you up, and right when he was about to blurt it all out … you were asleep. Tyrion was sure he wouldn’t sleep the whole night, but that was fine. He’d tell you when the time was right. For now, he felt like the luckiest man to be the one to stroke your back while you dreamed.

JAIME LANNISTER

It was just a fun game. Plenty of ladies still mooned after him in spite of the way their fathers and brothers whispered behind his back. Sure, you weren’t the mooning type, or one to gossip. You spoke to Jaime like any other respectable Kingsguard, actually, although you weren’t above teasing here and there. Cersei encouraged it, urging him to get information from you. Supposedly, your family was plotting against the throne. Jaime wasn’t clear on the details, but he didn’t need them. It would be easy enough.

It was easy to laugh along with your jokes, because many of them were genuinely funny. Pretending his affection and fake flirting was also easy, because you had such a cute blush and you could dish out as well as you got. It was fine if he blushed too, or kissed you without thinking about it, because that would fool you better. Sharing your bed wasn’t at all part of the plan, but that made getting information easier, too - not that he thought to ask. You were precious in the candlelight, giving him nothing but affection, and he had plenty of time to ask later. Later, he told Cersei when she came itching for information. He’d have it later.

When later came, you had confessed to him, curled in his arms and sweet as ever. Jaime had to return the confession, of course, keep up the game, but the realization hit him like a charging boar. It wasn’t a game anymore. He wanted to keep you in his arms, and his bed, and that was a terrifying thought.

SANDOR CLEGANE

He wished you weren’t so damned nice to him. It was one thing to speak on such friendly terms with your fellow ladies in court, it was another thing to give a dog the time of day. He hated that you sought him out, tried again and again to speak to him. All those sweet things left a pain in his chest that he’d rather not think of. Sandor didn’t want to give into the kindness and brightness in your eyes, so he tried distracting himself with drink and whores, although it just left him with a far worse, more sour pain. It was easy enough to avoid you, even if it didn’t help the pain much. 

When the city came under attack during the Battle for Blackwater, the idea to flee was immediately accompanied by the idea to get you the hell out. It sent Sandor in a near panic to imagine you being killed or worse by the invading soldiers. He couldn’t leave behind the woman he loved - okay, fine, he’d admit that. Maybe not to you, but to himself, and that spurred him on to find you. Once he did, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You both were getting out of the Red Keep, getting far away from King’s Landing. The whole damned place could burn, for all he cared, but he wasn’t leaving you before that happened.

BRONN

Bronn was not a “feelings” man, and he’d laugh himself into a fit if anyone suggested it, let alone thinking it himself. He certainly didn’t get feelings for perfumed highborn ladies, as beautiful and wicked as they were. You played the dutiful daughter, but you delighted in running about with Bronn. He was more than happy to indulge a lady in her little rebellion, but somewhere down the line it got blurry. Sharing his bed started to become different, something less passionate and more… tender. He found his thoughts drifting to you at the strangest times, especially if he glanced at something that reminded him of you. Worse yet, he was beginning to lose his appetite for whores. When he yearned for a body, not just anyone would do. Even the priciest whores wouldn’t have that smile with mischievous eyes to match, or the graceful fingers that ran through his mess of hair and scolded him for letting it get wild. 

Bronn was contemplating this with some irritation as he waited for Tyrion to exit Littlefinger’s famed establishment. The Lannister had a grin like cat playing with a canary. “What’s the matter, Bronn? There’s plenty of lovely ladies - well, perhaps they aren’t a certain lady. I can see why you’d be disappointed.”

The realization hit Bronn like a fist to the face, and he aggressively tried to shove it all down. He managed to snark back at Tyrion with a shrug of his shoulders, but he hated how the little shit figured it out before he did. 

PETYR BAELISH

He liked the way you called him “my lord”, as though you meant it, and he was even more amused when he realized you did. You were a lady of easy courtesy and grace, used to wearing fine things and being chased by lords with far less fine things. You’d grown up in this court, and while many wrote you off as just another pretty - albeit rich - courtier, he could see much more. He’d made a point to be kind to you, even give you advice in an almost brotherly way, although he certainly never had any familial intentions for you. 

He liked how learned you were, how much you read and wanted to debate this or that, but then you’d be so adorably naive about other things. It was a little mean to lead you on, he’d think, but then he couldn’t help himself from complimenting your gown or gently tucking your hair into place. Maybe he could have a little fun, but then he’d mercilessly keep any suitors with the same thoughts away from you. Petyr was willing to fool himself for so long, until he asked a harmless question. Your father was so protective of you, so why did he allow you to visit with him?

You replied with some embarrassment, and he knew right away, even before you began speaking. He wasn’t considered a threat. Even with his position, he had no real lands, no real lordly title worth anything. He hid it well, but the indignation hit Petyr at once, and plans already began to spin in head.

STANNIS BARATHEON

He’d been feeling all sorts of … things toward you for some time. He was still stubbornly telling himself that he must’ve been imagining it, you were just being a dutiful wife - albeit a very sweet, considerate and thoughtful one. The denial dropped on a seemingly innocuous morning. He’d woken up at an ungodly hour to sail to Dragonstone, tending to business in a castle that was technically his but one he found no pleasure in seeing. 

You were suddenly at his side, and before he could ask what you were doing up, you kissed him. You bade him safe travels, and almost seemed sullen as you said you’d miss him. It seemed genuine, not something to say out of obligation or courtesy - for gods’ sake, dawn had just barely begun to break, and you were still in your nightclothes. You’d hurried all the way here in that nightgown, past servants and knights, just to make sure you didn’t miss him. 

Stannis’ cheeks burned, only getting worse when you kissed him again and asked him to write. The fact he had to sail to Dragonstone, attend business there and sail back alone, without waking up to these kisses and smiles, was a downright dreary thought. 

DAVOS SEAWORTH

He thought he was too old for silly crushes, so Davos didn’t think much of how much he liked your smile and admired your kindness. You were a lovely young woman who would be quite wicked and cunning when she needed, but always in pursuit of helping others. You often visited together and discussed the war, as your father was exceedingly loyal to Stannis. As you two became closer, he listened to worries you had and comforted you, while you did the same for him. A friendship was more than enough, he told himself. You were much younger, and no doubt you’d be married off soon. You’d have to move away to your husband’s keep, and that thought saddened Davos, but maybe you’d be kind enough to remember him and send a letter or two.

He started to become more and more uncomfortable with that train of thought the longer the war went on. On the eve of the invasion of King’s Landing, before he boarded the ship, he knew he had to see you. You both sought each other out at the same time, and Davos felt his heart break as you took his calloused, world-weary hands in your own soft ones. The fact he may not come back hit him, but he would - he would, Davos promised you, and he’d tell you something he’d been thinking about for a long time.

MARGAERY TYRELL

Margaery is the sort of lady who appreciates wit, humor and beauty. Right off the bat, she knew you had all three, and she wanted to be your friend right away. You two would spend hours together in Highgarden, attending big exciting balls or just having lowkey walks through the rose gardens. It was no secret that you were Margaery’s favorite, and she’d long begun to put aside other ladies her age to spend time with you instead.

One of her favorite things to do with you was get ready for feasts in her lavish bedroom. It was hours before the event, so the handmaidens hadn’t even arrived to style your hair. You and Margaery were just laughing and joking while she looked through her closet. She’d talked you into wearing a dress she insisted on.

Margaery was a little too excited to shimmy you out of what you were wearing, she definitely looked and she was glad you didn’t shy away or ask her to turn around. She helped you clasp the back and the smell of your shampoo and the closeness of your body made her fumble the clasps more than once. She knew it was time to stop kidding herself; she was in love with you.

BRYNDEN TULLY

Your friendship with Bryden was odd but it came easily. Despite the difference in status - you were a lady, but your house was minor compared to the Tullys - and the more obvious age difference, you two got along like birds and summer. Your laughter was something beautiful, and Brynden enjoyed being the one having you in stitches. You’d dish out sharp remarks and wit to men who bothered you, which humored him more than it should have. Even if you two had a game of being the dutiful knight to the charming lady, the feelings he was catching were not very knightly. He brushed off your lingering touches as something he was overthinking and tried to tell himself your subtle flirtations were unintentional. He wasn’t sure when his crush turned to an ache, but he was determined to ignore it. 

The breaking point came when he heard a rumor you were well and truly engaged, already being packed up to Dorne - Dorne! it was so far from the Vale - and the panic, dread and rage hit him all at once... He learned sometime later it was just a rumor. The relief hit him all at once, and Brynden finally admitted to himself that he, an old knight who should have known better, was in love with you. He’d have to do something quick, too, because he couldn’t take another shock like that. What if the next one wasn’t a rumor? 

EDMURE TULLY

Your family was one of the poorer Riverlands houses, and one of the farther ones. They weren’t always able to attend the feasts and celebrations at Riverrun, not when your mother had to sell her jewels so your household could eat. Not when you’d be showing up in the same gown as the last time, albeit shorter and tighter because you’d grown out of it. The shame your family felt was a far thought now that the war was on. They’d defend their land and lord with everything they had, little as it was.

You were just as fierce as your father and brothers, with a cunning for strategy that even Robb and Brynden took notice of. Edmure was all admiration, and he’d tell you as much after you both spent an hour discussing a plan of attack. He realized he was hopelessly, foolishly smitten after Catlyn had offered you one of her old gowns. You had been staying in Riverrun for some time as their guest, and she insisted. It was one thing for you to be so capable and witty, now you were looking stunning in a gown of deep navy blue, with your hair tied back and braided to match. Edmure was alternating between blessing and cursing his sister for doing such a thing.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

The idea of guarding an especially wealthy highborn lady had brought some dismay to Brienne, as if your family thought she was some sellsword. The first time she met you, she was taken aback by your bright smile. In the following months, her surprise at your kindness and goodness began to form into admiration, and from there she was becoming smitten. Brienne wouldn’t dare admit such a thing to herself, but her heart was a traitor. Anytime you took her hand and asked after her injuries or you proudly called her your knight, without a trace of shame, it would beat so fast she’d almost get dizzy.

Brienne finally let herself admit her feelings, and fall fully in love, on a seemingly average day. She was supposed to be on duty, but you’d hear none of it, insisting she sit next to you in the gardens. You were delighted by the latest book you were reading, and you had to share it with her. It was some sweet love story, and Brienne just smiled gently and listened as you read it to her. It would be okay if you never knew, the knight told herself, as long as you’d always hold her dear like this. 

RAMSAY BOLTON

You didn’t cry. You didn’t get angry. You often ignored him. Sometimes he could get a glare or a heavy sigh, but for the most part, the wife his father arranged for him didn’t indulge in his attempts to frighten her. He’d try all sorts of way to upset you and throw you off, but you weren’t afraid, not even of blood or bodies. He was sullen, like a child being ignored, and his usual women became boring in comparison. He knew how they’d react, but what about you? 

And sometimes you’d do strange things. You’d treat wounds he received, try to fix his clothes when he had to appear before lords, even brush his hair if you felt like he hadn’t done a proper job. Even if you were scolding him the whole time, Ramsay liked it. You were finally giving him the attention he craved. And finally, you smiled. You had a beautiful smile, especially when it was just for him. 

ROOSE BOLTON

Roose had known from your first meeting that he coveted you, in the way a boy covets a friendly hound or a first sword. He was in need of a wife, and here you were, beautiful and young, from a good family that could be easily persuaded. It wouldn’t be more than that, he thought. But you kept surprising him. It started with your wit, which you hid underneath courtesies, and then your temper, which you hid with charming smiles. You played coy to his intentions and Roose kept up with the tempo you’d set to this dance of cat and mouse. 

Even when he strong-armed your family into accepting the match, it didn’t feel like he “won”. It was just a new phase to the game, new dances with your cleverness, which he admittedly underestimated. He may have had you in his bed, but even underneath him, you could capture his heart with a smirk and a kiss. He didn’t say it outright, nor did you comment on his feelings. It was a hard fact he couldn’t look away from: His lady wife had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.

OBERYN MARTELL

Oberyn is the type of man to have fleeting passions and easy affections, but the matter of “love” was something quite different. In fact, he avoided such attachments, and he discouraged them when he noticed someone catching feelings for him. He thought you two had a perfectly agreeable arrangement - you both enjoyed each other’s company, both in and out of the bedroom, and neither of you pushed to define your relationship.

He thought of you often - in the company of others, when he was alone. Wondering what you were doing and missing your easy laugh and smiles. He didn’t care if you two were just talking in the gardens or walking the markets. One morning he woke up alone, and went looking for you. You were basking by a windowsill, looking like some kind of goddess as the sun wreathed you in light. You were just reading and idly running a finger through your hair, but Oberyn couldn’t look away, and after several minutes, you glanced up and winked at him. Oberyn felt like the luckiest man, then. He wanted to see you and have your smiles every morning.

BERIC DONDARRION

He already liked you from the start, and made an effort to try to get to know you and speak with you when you joined the Brotherhood. You had a good heart, even if the war had begun to wear on your spirit. You agreed to follow the Brotherhood for the sake of protection and got to know the unusual former lord and the red priest. It didn't take long for Beric to get a little crush, and he knew it. Beric was fine not telling you, even as his feelings became stronger with each day.

He told himself it was because you two had plenty of time, and he didn't want to push you. Perhaps it was fate when the next time he "died", you were there to witness it, and his resurrection. Beric woke up to your arms wrapped tight around him, your face buried in his bloodied tunic and coat. Thoros was trying to reassure you, but you wouldn't be still until Beric opened his eyes and said your name.

The relief hit him at once as he remembered it, and he remembered his feelings. They seemed stronger than before, and he couldn't hide them anymore. There must have been a reason his feelings remained, he decided, while his other memories slowly faded with each resurrection. 

#game of thrones #got imagines #asoiaf #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines

[a-smile-hides]

SECRET (P.3) - S.R.

Pairing: Sigurd x reader

Sum: At last, the truth comes out

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy this final part!

PART 1 - PART 2

---

Sigurd stormed through the streets of Kattegat. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they led him to a small, crumbling house. The people that dared to go outside looked amused at the sight of him. Shaking their heads as he almost tripped over his own feet. His step quickened as the cabin came into his vision, until he was full on running towards it. The fur on his shoulders almost falling off. Not that he cared. He was finally doing what he should have done so long ago. He was finally running towards the one who truly held his love.

As he neared the small cabin, the prince breathed heavily in and out. Little clouds of warm air where visible due to the cold weather. Sigurd raised his fist, knocking rather hard on the door of your cabin. The door shook with each knock. With a nervous smile he waited for you to open. The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His brows furrowed as the door in front of him remained closed. Raising his fist in the air again, he banged on the door. The door shook violently because of the force he used. But it remained closed. Sigurd stepped back, looking at the tiny house in front of him. It looked horrible. The fence around the property was broken, some parts of wood missing as they were used in a desperate attempt to fix the gaping holes in the walls. Sigurd shook his head, trying his best to look through a window to see if you were home.  

“M-My prin-ce Sigurd.” Stammered a voice.

Sigurd looked up, behind him stood a man. One of his hands was wrapped around himself, clutching a thin cloak around his shoulders. With the other hand, he dragged a wagon with him, lathered with bags, cloaks, and other stuff to sell. Sigurd recognized him from the market. He was the one who sold his lover a black bag.

The man’s eyes went to the ground. His body shivered from the cold. It made Sigurd feel guilty. The white fur he had wrapped around his shoulders shielded him perfectly from the harsh cold.

“Y-you w-w-won’t find t-that girl.” The man shivered, his blue finger pointing towards the cabin behind Sigurd.

Sigurd looked behind him to the cabin where he had shared countless of moments with you.

“She has… has…” The man paused, closing his eyes. “A m-man showed up t-two days ago. P-promising a better future. Aw-away from Kattegat.”

Sigurd stepped forward; his eyes opened wide.

“This ni-night, they left. M-my s-son has gone w-with him. M-my beautiful s-son.” The man sobbed; his hands clutched the cloak that hung around him tighter. His teary eyes met Sigurd, who was looking at the man with different emotions running through his body. The man sniffed, rubbing his nose. “The girl has left too. No one knows where they went.”

The words made Sigurd feel numb. His hands curled up into fists, his nails pressing hard against his skin. The young man stared off in the distance, trying to process what he just heard. It couldn’t be true. Why would you leave Kattegat? Why would you leave him?

“Everyone is-s dying. T-there is nothing here an-anymore.” Said the man, who saw the confusion and anger on the prince’s face. “It wa-was leaving o-or d-dying.”

Sigurd nodded at the man, thanking him for the information.

As the man passed him, Sigurd remembered that when you had last visited him, you brought that large, black bag with you. The bag was filled to its fullest with all your possessions. You had really left him…

Sigurd stared at the ground as the thought slowly became louder in his mind.

Trades were no longer possible. The cold made the people in Kattegat poor. The deal with the king gave just enough to survive, but not for everyone. Not anymore.

You ran away. Lured by someone who promised you a better future. All in the hope to survive, to live. To where, he did not know.

He had lost you.

You were gone…

Sigurd ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The fur around his shoulders fell off. But he didn’t bother turning around to pick it up. The cold wind hurt his face, making tears appear in his eyes. But he didn’t stop. His lungs hurt, screaming for air. But he did not stop running.

He only slowed down once he arrived at the docks. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at the water.

It was frozen.

Two boats were next to each other, stuck in the ice. Removed too late and now doomed to wait there until the winter was gone. The prince groaned. There was no way you could have left by foot. You were too weak for that. It was impossible to assume that the stranger had taken horses with him to help his followers to their ‘better future’. So, you must have left by boat.

But as Sigurd looked at the ice in front of him… this couldn’t be true. There was no way that a boat would have arrived without him knowing. He was a prince of Kattegat. Nor was it possible for a boat to leave Kattegat because of the ice.  

Sigurd sat down on the ground. If you hadn’t left by foot, horse or boat, then… how did you leave. And, where were you?

---

A month passed, and the winter still hadn’t released Kattegat from its grip. Sigurd was walking on the docks, looking over the water in front of him. Five boats were lined up next to each other, people working hard on them to make them ready for their first trip since the winter had landed in Kattegat. The ice that blocked the boats from heading towards a new adventure had disappeared.

It worried him. Every day he had searched far and wide for you. Even asking his brothers for help. But not a single person in Kattegat knew what happened to the group that had packed their bags and left in the darkness of the night. Many were jealous. They wanted to escape this harsh reality too. It happened a lot that the prince was stopped on one of his walks by someone who looked at him with red, tired eyes, begging him for help. He avoided going to The Great Hall, where Queen Aslaug sat on the throne trying desperately to think of a way to help her people. Time was running out. Even though it looked like the winter was slowly coming to an end, they still needed a plan to help the people back on their feet.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shriek of joy. Looking to his right, Sigurd watched how a man lifted a woman in the air, spinning her around before putting her down. The man then kneeled before her, pressing his lips to her stomach. It was now that Sigurd saw how the woman had a small bump. Her proud grin showed that she was carrying his child. Sigurd adverted his eyes as the two stared at each other lovingly while the man kept pressing multiple kisses on her stomach.

The act made Sigurd nose flare in jealousy. The woman clearly wasn’t pregnant for long, her bump was hardly there. But still the man was down on his knees on the cold, wet ground kissing her stomach. Sigurd had never done that before. When he came to think of it, he hadn’t really been allowed to touch Livia’s stomach at all.

Shaking his head, the prince turned around. He marched towards a small, grey hut where an old woman lived. He hoped she would provide him with answers.

---

After another long month, winter finally passed. Livia strolled through Kattegat, a fine smile on her face as her hand rested on her stomach. It was the first time she came out of her house since the winter became harsh. With a beaming smile she walked slowly towards the Great Hall. She liked the quietness in the streets.

Livia got quite a scare once she entered the Hall and was met by the judging eyes of Kattegat’s residents. She had overheard Sigurd talk to one of his brothers about the fear the people had of leaving their houses. Apparently, they were scared the Gods would plummet them into another cold winter and for that reason, refused to go outside. But as she looked around, it felt like every man and woman that lived in Kattegat was there. There were even some children. All eyes were fixated on her. Some people looked at her in scepticism, others with pure disgust. But she paid no attention to them, walking forward with her chin tilted up high until she reached the throne where the queen sat. Next to her sat her youngest son, Ivar. The smirk that only grew wider with every step she took made her feel uneasy. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she saw her father standing next to Aslaug, an angry look on his face. But in his eyes, she saw pain. Pain he was desperately trying to hide. Ignoring him, she kept walking to the queen, the crowd parting as she made her way through them. Smiling, she stopped before her and bowed shortly.

“I see that the people have finally come out again…” she said softly, “It warms my heart.”

Aslaug nodded her head. “Yes, they have all come at my invitation.”

Livia lifted one of her brows. “Invitation? It seemed that might have passed me.”

Ivar snorted, looking to the side. Aslaug bit her lip to hide her smile at her son’s behaviour. Livia frowned at him but remained quiet. Without losing her smile, the young princess looked around.

“Forgive me, but I can’t spot my husband. Where is my beloved?” She took a step forward, wanting to stand beside Aslaug and her father, but Aslaug held out her hand. Livia stopped, gasping in surprise.

“He went to your home. I had asked him to bring you with him.”

Livia looked confused at the woman in front of her but laughed softly. “We must have missed each other than” She grinned.

The two women stared at each other. Both trying their best to put up their most convincing smile. Until the murmurs of the people behind Livia made the two of them look up. Pushing his way through the crowd, Sigurd walked towards his wife. As he stopped next to Livia, he felt her reach for his hand. The young woman looked at him with a loving gaze. “Ah, my husband. It is good that you came back. I heard that you were looking for me. Luckily, I passed The Great Hall… I wanted to pay your mother a visit.” Livia giggled.

Sigurd couldn’t hold back the chuckle that passed his lips, shaking his head he took his hand out of hers. Livia looked around her, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. “Sigurd… what is wrong?” she said through her teeth. Her tone was gentle, but her eyes betrayed the annoyance she felt.

Sigurd turned towards her, crossing his arms. The silence made her feel uneasy. Not a single soul in The Great Hall had made a sound since she had entered the building.

“Care to tell me why you have been visiting the healer so many times, wife?” Sigurd asked, almost spitting out that last word.

The young woman looked startled by his question. “Is it a crime to look after your son, my love?” she chuckled, turning towards the crowd behind her, “I would be a fool to let any harm come to your child.”

Her statement was met by silence. Some seemed conflicted by her words, nodding their heads at her. Some just averted their eyes, others straight up scoffed at her words.

“Livia, for your own sake… shut your mouth. The damage is done.” Her father spoke up. His voice sounded like thunder and made her jump a bit.

“Papa…?” her voice croaked out. She looked towards her father, trying to find an explanation for his outburst, but he refused to look at his daughter. Her eyes went from him to Aslaug, who still sat on her throne, eyeing the princess with a stern look on her face. Ivar was still grinning down at her as if she was the best joke he had ever seen. She watched as he waved at someone in the back, making the young woman turn around to come face to face with Kattegat’s best healer. The one that she always requested to see.

The old woman was escorted by Ubbe, who went to stand beside Sigurd. Livia looked with fire in her eyes at the poor lady, who stood shivering in front of her and the crowd. Her eyes went from face to face, scanning her environment. Sigurd slowly stepped closer to the woman, placing his hand on her shoulder in hope to calm her down. Bending down a bit, he said: “Do you remember my visit to your cabin?”

She nodded her head.

“You do remember my question, right?”

The woman exhaled for a moment, looking at Sigurd’s wife in front of him. Livia tried to look at her with a friendly smile, but she couldn’t fool anyone. Even a blind man could see that Livia was silently threatening the poor woman.

The healer looked towards Sigurd again, a doubtful look on her face. Sigurd rubbed her shoulder softly, silently encouraging her to answer his question.

“It is not a crime to tell the truth.” The healer looked at Aslaug. The queen smiled softly at the woman, nodding her head in encouragement.

The old woman looked down, mumbling her answer. “You asked me about your wife’s pregnancy, my prince. You exclaimed your worries that there might be something wrong with your child.”

At this the Great Hall started whispering, Ivar had perked up in his seat, the grin on his face had only become wider. Ubbe shuffled next to Sigurd, stepping towards Livia who had now backed away a bit.

“Could you repeat your answer to his question?” Aslaug questioned.

The healer looked towards her queen, pressing her lips on each other.

“I told my prince not to worry, for every woman is not the same and one could have a small tummy for a long time.” The woman swallowed, looking down. “But… in this case… There is indeed a problem”

Livia gasped, putting both hands on her stomach. “The scandal!” She exclaimed, “Why haven’t you told me anything about that?”

The old woman cowered away in fear. Sigurd stepped protectively in front of her, staring angrily at his wife.

“Know when to stay silent.” He snapped at her. On his throne, Ivar snickered at the sight of Livia’s shocked face.

Carefully Sigurd turned towards the scared woman, urging her to continue.

“I had my first doubts not long after the princess had first stepped foot in my cabin. I hadn’t felt the same thing I normally do when I examine other women, but as I said before… not everyone is the same.” She explained, “But after a while had passed, her stomach still felt the same. Not a single thing had changed. Even now, it is not normal for her to still be like that. There should be an indication of her pregnancy.”

“The scandal!” screamed Livia again, pointing angrily at the woman.

By now, Ivar had enough of her screaming. He stared annoyed at her, slamming his fist on his throne which effectively shut her up.

“What is it that you concluded?” asked Sigurd.

“Princess Livia… was never pregnant.”

Murmurs echoed through The Great Hall; all eyes were back on Livia. What was believed by some was now spoken out loud for the first time. Aslaug lifted her hand, silencing the whispers.

“Is there another way to confirm what you have proclaimed?”

“She has bled… every month… just like any other woman when they are without child. And every month she came to me to help her cover it up.”

“No! These are false accusations!” said Livia, stepping forwards to the old woman. Ubbe quickly grabbed her by the shoulder, holding her back.

“Why is it that you have kept this a secret all this time?” Ivar spoke up, “Why have you helped her lie to Sigurd? And to us?”

The healer looked down in shame, her foot scraped over the floor. “She… she has treated me, prince Ivar. I-I had n-no choice.”

Livia pulled herself free out of Ubbe’s grasp, walking towards Aslaug.

“Queen Aslaug, you cannot believe this woman. She is obviously a fraud! I have believed sh-“

“Livia!” shouted her father. His pounding voice silencing his daughter immediately. “I have heard it myself how you treated this poor woman.”

Livia took a step backwards, taken aback by what her father said.

“You’re good at playing a part, wife.” Sigurd laughed, “But you’ve become in sloppy in hiding that you are doing it.”

***

Sigurd leaned next to the door of the grey hut he had led his wife’s father to. Together with his older brother Ubbe he had visited his kingdom to tell him the truth about his precious daughter. After some debate, the king had agreed to come with them. Now he stood before Sigurd, his ear pressed against the door to listen to the conversation between his daughter and Kattegat’s best healer.

“My princess, I cannot help you. It is clear to me that you are not with child. I am sorry.”

“This is not the answer I want to hear! I have told you this multiple times already: I don’t want to hear you say that!”

The healer stayed silent for a moment, as if she were contemplating what to say. “I cannot change this fact. Eventually, the Gods will grant you a child. You’ll just have to wait.” Her voice was shaky but soothing.

A harsh slap followed those words. Then it became very quiet.

“This is the last time I will say this: those words are NOT the words I want to hear.”

Silence.

“The boy is doing great, my princess”

***

“It is over, Livia. My child…” The king said softly, “It is time to tell the truth.”

Livia shook her head. Her cheeks were red, her hands grabbing onto her dress. Aslaug nodded her head at the healer who quickly hurried away from the angry princess. Ubbe followed her outside to make sure no harm would come her way. Livia bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from screaming at the woman. As Ubbe and the woman had disappeared from her view, she looked around, until her eyes landed on a pair that made her blood ran cold.

“You!” she hissed out. “It’s you. It has always been you isn’t it.” She chuckled humourlessly, stepping forwards. “You witch.”

Sigurd walked towards Livia, pushing her back. “You don’t talk to her like that.”

Livia lifted her brow, “I may not talk to your little whore like that?”

It took all of Sigurd’s willpower not to lash out at her, but he had promised not to harm Livia. To her when he made his vows, to her father when he accepted her hand in marriage and to you. You had asked him to never hurt her if it ever would go south. And once he promises something to you, he does everything in his power to fulfil that. Turning around, the prince stretched out his arm towards you, making you step out of the protection the crowd gave you. Placing your hand in his, you bit your lip to prevent a smile on your face as you felt the warmth go through your body.

Around you, the hall filled itself with murmurs again and this time Aslaug had to speak up to silence them.

“It is a good thing she had made me promise not to hurt you…” Sigurd hissed through his teeth.

Livia scowled at him. Then, her eyes went back to you. If her gaze could kill you, you would be lying dead on the floor now.

“You shouldn’t even be alive right now.” She whispered.

The comment made you look down and take a step back, but Sigurd stopped you. His hand wrapped itself around your waist, keeping you close.

“It is good that you bring up your second wrongdoing.” He smirked.

Livia gaped at the man in front of her. “A-a sec-second?” she stammered.

Behind her, she heard shuffling, grunting. As if someone was struggling or fighting something. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw how Hvitserk now entered the Great Hall, dragging someone with him. Both had a thin layer of sweat on their foreheads. The person’s hands were bound behind his back, his feet dragging over the floor as Hvitserk pushed him closer towards where you were standing. As Hvitserk neared his mother’s throne, he pushed the man down on his knees, grabbing him by his hair so the man looked straight into Livia’s eyes. The young woman looked at him briefly before averting her eyes, ignoring his cold stare.

“You recognize this man?” said Ivar, noticing her reaction.

Livia shook her head.

The man snorted, spitting on the ground at her feet.

“Are you sure?” asked Aslaug.

Livia nodded.

“How is that possible? Y/N has told us that you have payed that man to lure her, along with all the people who went missing, away from Kattegat?” Sigurd asked.

“It is clear that she is delusional.” Livia answered, her face showed no emotion. Her voice was dull, as if she answered without realizing what she was saying.

“So, you are saying that she is lying”

Livia looked back at you. “She is. If that man has something to do with the disappearance of that group, which unfortunately she was a part of, is it his fault.”

At this the man got up, his mind was set on attacking her, but he was held back by Hvitserk.

“You bitch!” He yelled out, struggling against Hvitserk to get himself free. “You are the one to blame! I will not take all the blame.” The man eventually stopped wrestling, eyeing her dirty. “I am dragging you down with me!”

Livia ignored him, staring straight at Aslaug who lifted her brow at the scene in front of her.

“You have paid this man to lure her away from me.” Sigurd spoke up, stepping protectively in front of you. “You have payed that man to pretend to be a prophet. A saviour. To make her leave Kattegat and never return. That other people went along and walked to their deaths, didn’t faze you.” He stepped closer to Livia, hovering over her. “As long as she was gone, you were happy.”

“It is true that I would be happy if you dumped that whore. But I am your wife and a princess. An important figure. I cannot let any harm come to any person of Kattegat. Even to her. So, I wouldn’t do anything that would provoke that, my love.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. As Sigurd looked at them, he saw fire. A look he recognized from every time he returned home after he had visited you. He should have known she wasn’t that stupid to never notice where he was going.

The man that Hvitserk had brought in started shouting again. “Stop that! Lies! All lies! She has asked me to do it! My Queen-“

Aslaug silenced him with a stern look. Next to her, Livia’s father was becoming more nervous. The looked ashamed of what was happening. Stepping forward, he held out his hand towards his daughter.

“Livia, darling. Stop it.”

“Papa… there is no prove. No way to prove that I am the guilty one here. His words against mine. A commoner like her” she spat, her fiery eyes on you. “Against a princess”

“Except it isn’t” Sigurd said, squeezing your hand as he felt you shaking under her intense glare. Livia gasped in surprise. Some men in the Great Hall scoffed at her behaviour, getting tired of the act she was putting up. “Mother, we do have proof.” His free hand brushed some hair out of your face, the comforting smile on his lips washing away any doubt you had. He looked to the side and nodded his head. A man stepped forward and lifted his hood.

“This is Birger, the son of Trygve. Trygve is a merchant. A man who sells his goods on the market and has struggled to survive just as many of you did. He was also one of the men who woke up one morning to find out his child had disappeared. Birger was lured away by this man. He and Y/N are one of the few that escaped death during this scam.”

Aslaug looked at the man standing beside you. He was young and very tall. The man looked angrily towards Livia, who eyed him up and down in disgust. A scar ran over his face from his left eyebrow down to his cheek, right over his eye. Bruises and scratches covered his body just like yours, but he was alive.

“Can you confirm what has been said?” Aslaug questioned

Birger’s eyes went from Aslaug to the man who had taken him away from his family with empty promises. “It is true that this man promised us a better future. He said he would take us to a better place. A greater land. The winter was unforgiving, my queen. We saw no future here anymore. But it was all a lie. He was nothing more than a fraud. We were abandoned not long after we had left Kattegat. All of us too weak to go on and too broken to go back.” Birger’s eyes looked down for a moment, before he looked back at you. You swallowed before stepping next to him, resting your hand on his shoulder.

“The winter was harsh and claimed many lives. Y/N and I were one of the few who survived the first days of wandering through the woods. We were lucky to find an old cabin where we could find shelter.”

Aslaug nodded; her gaze went back to Livia, who was panting heavily while she watched her plan fall into pieces. This was not how it was supposed to be. This was not what she planned.

Sigurd ignored her state; his eyes were only focused on you. The truth had come out. His wife had lied to him, faked a pregnancy, and ordered a man to lead you to your death. He had more than enough reason to leave her. Sigurd stepped closer to you, standing right behind you, his hands resting on your hips.  

“I think this marriage can no longer be mother. I ask for it to be broken.” You stared up at the man behind to you, who now lifted his hand so he could run his finger over your cheek. He smiled apologetically as you flinched when he touched a small scar on your cheekbone. “So, I can marry out of love this time…”

Aslaug watched the interaction between you two, the corners of her lips lifting slightly. The Great Hall erupted into whispers once again, this time of agreement. Many nodded their heads and lifted their fists in the sky in encouragement of this idea.

Livia crossed her arms, shaking her head. But no one paid attention to her anymore. Her plan had failed. She had placed a bet and lost.

Aslaug cleared her throat, catching the attention of everyone in the Great Hall again. Without looking at the king beside her, who now hung his head between his shoulders, she spoke. “This deal can indeed no longer exist. For it brings more grief than good.”

Livia’s father nodded his head at her wise words, walking towards his daughter who stood in front of the crowd with her head held high, trying to hold on to her last bit of power. Her father looked torn. He still loved his daughter and hated that he now lost his connection to Kattegat and the sons of Ragnar, but he felt ashamed of what his daughter had done.

“It seems that these two weren’t fated at all” Ivar spoke up, a small grin plastered on his face. “Our Sigurd has proved that by sleeping with this girl during his marriage.”

Sigurd grumbled, his hand now going around your stomach to press your back against his chest. Typical Ivar for not keeping his mouth shut.

“That is true, Ivar. Sigurd had not been faithful to his wife. However,” Aslaug voice dropped. A threatening look darkened her features. “What Livia has done cannot be forgiven. Never. Thereby, for the consequences –“

Sigurd stepped forward, lifting his hand to silence his mother. The crowd gathered in the Great Hall all frowned at the prince’s action.

“I know that many would ask for it, but I wish that they will not be punished by death. Or harm of any sort.” He said softly.

Once again, the Great Hall erupted in shouts of confusion. Many thought the prince was delusional and screamed for him to keep his mouth shut. But he ignored them, his eyes stared straight at the woman he had to call his wife until a few moments ago. Her head was still held up high, but her face showed how scared she really was.

“The news of this betrayal shall spread quickly.,” he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him, “And I imagine that not many will trust you from now on. You must live with that shame. The thing I ask, is that you help Kattegat out of the mess the winter has left us with. After that, we part ways.”

The king averted his eyes but nodded his head reluctantly.

Ivar nodded his head at Sigurd words. “Death is an easy escape…” He whispered, “I did not know you could be so wise, dear brother.”

Sigurd grumbled, but ignored his younger brother’s words.

Queen Aslaug smiled, “Then this is how it shall be. Now leave.” She said, waving her hand. Immediately, some men jumped into action and walked up to the king and his daughter. Each of them eager to guide them outside. But before they could even reach them, Sigurd spoke up again. “Livia. You were just as trapped as I was in this marriage. You are now free of me. And I of you.” His eyes went from her back to you, his loving gaze filled you with the warmth you missed all this time. “Now you can find real love.” He said smiling.

With that, the men grabbed Livia and her father by their arm and escorted them out of the Great Hall. The king walked with a strong pace, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. While his daughter lingered, a painful grimace on her face. The man beside her rolled his eyes, dragging her out the hall while she tried to get Sigurd to look at her one last time. But the young prince’s attention wasn’t on her anymore. It was fully on you. Sigurd grinned as he stepped closer to you. He placed his hands on the back of your head, pressing his lips on yours. His heart filled itself with joy as he realized that now, he was free to make you his wife. His real love. A love that finally wasn’t secret anymore.

---

Thank you for reading xxx

#vikings #vikings imagine #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd fanfiction #sigurd snake in the eye imagine #sigurd x reader #secret

[glacecakes]

Alchemy Lullaby (7/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did... helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Part 7: Varian spends his first Christmas with his family. There is no actual plot it's just fluff

Read the rest on AO3 

Part of an art trade for the lovely @finnoky once again! Finn is my partner in crime on this au so major shout out to him <3 Yes we are aware it is Halloween season but a) the timeline dictates Christmas and b) JUST LET ME HAVE MY CHRISTMAS SEROTONIN

Also a massive shoutout to the Scar Varian discord, who's support has cured my depression. And all of you! Seriously, the love for this fic is insane I don't know how to handle it lol. If you want more baby Varian content dm me! The Scar Varian server is where we brainstorm baby ideas like, daily. And it's a riot. If you have any ideas you wanna see for this AU send me an ask!  Also the next chapter is gonna be a world of pain enjoy this while it lasts

The castle was abuzz with joy. The maids flitted around the halls, some even humming as they strung up lights and garlands. The frosted windows shone light through their wreaths, basking everything in a wintery-white glow. Even Old Lady Crowley seemed less angry than normal, barking out orders at only half volume. 

Spinning around, Rapunzel hums an old Christmas song. She’s always loved this time of year! Christmas was watching snow, and cuddling up by the fire with chocolate, and cooking gingerbread…! There was so much to be excited about! Even if she never had an official Christmas with her family yet, her steps were light as a feather, confident in this year’s success. Her previous Christmases had been quiet, just her and sometimes Gothel. Now, she had a mother, a father, a boyfriend, and his son! To think, exactly one year ago she never would have thought this could be possible.

The princess twirled to a stop in the throne room. The place was decked to the nines, ribbons and garland and all sorts of red decorated every inch. And in the corner sat a perfect pine, already decorated head to toe. The candles shone down on a confused, pudgy face.

Varian tugged at one of the ornaments. Not hard enough for it to fall, but enough for it to jingle.

Oh, that’s right! She’s not the only one celebrating a first Christmas with family!

The little boy fiddled with the pine needles, marvelling at the bristles and poking soft fingers into needles. He stuck his tongue out and stood on his tiptoes, reaching for a candy cane tied to a higher branch. If only he was a little taller…!

Strong, warm hands wrapped around his stomach and lifted him skyward. 

“Need a hand?” 

Varian looked up at the princess and beamed. “Hi Punzel!”

“Hello, Varian. Did you want the candy cane?”

Varian blinked, confused. “No, I wanted the red hook.” He grabbed the candy cane off the tree and held up his prize. “See?” 

“That’s a candy cane, but it’s just for decoration. If you want actual candy canes, you can head down to the kitchens.” the princess gently took the decor from his hands. 

He frowned, trying to commit the term to memory. “What’s it for?”

“The candy canes?”

“No, the tree!” He yelled right into her ear. 

“Woah, inside voice.” Varian zipped his lip. “It’s for Christmas.”

“Ooooh. What’s that?” he asked.

Rapunzel’s smile fell off her face near instantly. How do you explain a holiday to a toddler…?

“Well, um,” she started. “It’s a day where we all get together and celebrate being a family. We exchange gifts under the tree, and eat snacks, and sing songs… there’s a lot of stuff to do! It’s very fun, you’ll like it a lot, I promise.” 

Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy him. “Celebrate family… like momma?”

“More like you, and me, and Eugene,” Well, and Cass and Lance and her parents, but no overwhelming the baby. Little at a time. 

Baby blue eyes glanced down at the floor. “But… momma is family.” 

There was no denying the wasps in her heart, stinging at the mention of Varian’s mother. How they burrowed deep, whispering how the boy saw Eugene as his father, but not Rapunzel as his mother. It was selfish, she knew it. Varian was much closer to Eugene, he was practically the man’s shadow. But as Eugene’s girlfriend (and hopefully future wife), there was no denying the wish for Varian to see her in a similar light.

Varian still saw that woman as family? That’s ok, he still needed time. Or maybe he’d always see her as family. That was ok too. But hopefully, they could assure Varian that his real family, his loving family, was there for him this Christmas.  

“Varian,” she whispered, gently lifting his chin to face him. “Family loves you, protects you. It’s ok if you still love your momma, but you weren’t safe with her. That’s why you have us now! We’re your family too, and we’ll celebrate Christmas with you, ok?” 

Varian nodded weakly, wrapping short arms around her waist. Outstretched arms squeezed him tight. Then, he broke off, skittering out of the throne room and likely towards the kitchen for those treats.

Rapunzel sighed as she watched him go. He was a smart little thing, learning faster than anyone could teach. On more than one occasion she spotted the precocious kid trying to heave a too heavy book around the library. One thing he was particularly fond of were the sciences. From Astronomy to Zoology, Varian ate it all up, greedily grabbing any book that even looked like it was informational. He was also a big fan of the Flynn Rider series, but that may be more because Eugene was so eager to share it with him. Ever since Lance told him Eugene used to be Flynn Rider, Varian assumed he’d meant the book Flynn, and his love for his dad became near fervent in nature. 

But while Varian adored learning about the world around him, there were certain things he struggled to pick up. Social cues were a big one. He was dreadfully shy around strangers, and a little hellion to those he knew. On one memorable occasion, Varian had insisted on dressing himself, resulting in a day of backwards shirts and missing pants. Anytime Eugene tried to fix it, he’d screamed like the man was stabbing him. 

Poor Eugene had needed a drink after that. 

The point is, Varian loved to learn, but he still struggled with sociability, not unlike Rapunzel when she first came home. It sounded like he grew up in the same way, isolated from other people, relying only on a controlling mother. Thankfully, Varian was saved at a much younger age. Rapunzel could only pray that meant he’d flourish now.

-

Varian struggled to understand the world around him sometimes. 

There were some things he understood perfectly well, like how Ruddiger was his friend. There were some things he knew were true but didn’t really get why, like how his family hated his momma. And there were some things he was completely lost on, which in this case, was Christmas. 

Everyone around him was so cheery, so lively, even more so than usual. Whenever he asked why, he got the same answer: It’s almost Christmas! Christmas is tomorrow! But when he asked what Christmas was, what Rapunzel meant by singing and eating and gifts, everyone had a different answer! How was he supposed to figure it out if everyone had a different idea of what Christmas was? 

Everyone was busy preparing for… something. Varian wasn’t sure what. A party, maybe? So soon after the last one? That party sucked, but at least he got to introduce Ruddiger to everyone.

After that debacle, Eugene hadn’t been so keen on letting Varian keep the baby raccoon. The boy wasn’t even 5 yet, how was he supposed to care for his own pet? Rapunzel mentioned she’d been about his age when she met Pascal, but apparently a chameleon and raccoon are two very different things. Bummer.

Eventually, they settled on a compromise: Ruddiger was an outdoor animal who belonged outdoors, but during the winter and night he was allowed to be inside. And once Varian got older, he might be allowed to keep Ruddiger full time! 

Since it was snowing today, Ruddiger got to happily trail the child, keeping close to his feet as they traversed the castle. He said hi to the maids and guards as he walked by, but right now, Varian was trying to find his family. He technically wasn’t allowed to wander the castle alone, but King Frederick was really the only stickler about that rule. Varian had survived 6 months on the street, he could survive the short walk to and fro. 

Just as he passed the kitchens, a sweet smell tickled his nose, followed by a deep, familiar voice singing. His pet noticed it too, already waddling into the kitchen. Varian followed, and sure, enough, Eugene’s best friend was there.

“Hi Lance!” Varian squeaked. He latched onto the burly man’s legs. 

Lance leaned down from his place by the stove. He’d just finished taking the gingerbread out of the oven, the golden brown sizzling on the sheet. Carefully, so as not to drop the sheet on the child, Lance set the cookies down with one hand and ruffled black hair with another. 

“Hey there, kiddo! I thought I told you to call me Uncle Lance,” he grinned at how Varian squirmed under his palm.

Varian giggled. “Eugene said you’re not really my uncle.” Those giggles doubled at Lance’s mock offended face. 

“After everything we’ve been through, after all I’ve done for him, and he won’t call me a brother!” He gripped his chest, and his knees sunk to the floor. “It hurts… my heart…” with an overdramatic wail, Lance fell back and squished Varian to the floor. His weight wasn’t entirely on this child, he didn’t want to crush him, but it was enough to send Varian sprawling. 

Honestly, Varian didn’t get why Eugene was so against him calling Lance his uncle. He didn’t even know what an Uncle was! Shrieking laughter emanated from the toddler. “Lance!! Get off!” He said.

“Sorry, can’t, Lance is dead.”

“Nooooo!”

“Yesssss, the only cure,” the thief sighed, “Is for a brave, smart kid to call him… uncle…”

“Uncle Lance!” Varian shrieked. “Uncle Lance get off!” Almost instantly he sat upright, freeing his prisoner. 

“I live!” He cried, scooping Varian up and standing. “Thank you, sweet child!” He smushed their cheeks together in joy, only letting go when he had to bat Ruddiger away from his creation. 

“No bud! Gingerbread is bad for raccoons… probably,” 

Varian hadn’t heard that word before. “Gingerbread?” It smelled so good, surely Lance wouldn’t mind if he stole one, right? The guy adored him.

“Ah-ah!” Lance spun away from the stove, cookies now out of reach. He ignored the whines. “Gingerbread cookies can only be eaten if they’re decorated.” Setting Varian on a nearby counter, the man grabbed a few icing pipettes and candy pieces. “Gingerbread men need gingerbread clothes!” 

The next hour was filled with messy cookies and sprawling icing. White sugar covered nearly every surface, as Varian couldn’t figure out the right pressure to use a pipette. Eventually he gave up, letting Lance do the drawing while he added buttons and eyes in the form of candies. Every so often, Varian would hand a small treat to Ruddiger, enjoying fuzzy whiskers that tickled his hand. It was a comfortable silence, both of them invested in their individual activity. By the time Lance finally spoke again, the sun had tracked across the room and shone through the window. 

“So,” he said, tongue sticking out as he drew a face onto his cookie. “Why Eugene?” His companion stuck his head up, confused. He licked the sugar off his fingers. “What about him made you want to stay with him?”

Varian glanced down, deep in thought. “He’s nice,” he started. “He gives me lots of hugs, and makes me laugh.”

“Yea? What else?”

“Eugene is… super cool! He’s pretty, and he let me keep Ruddiger, and he loves me…” his small voice trailed off. The heat from sunlight warmed his bones, layering him in laziness. A yawn escaped him. 

He was just about to doze off, mind still trying to think of compliments, when soft knocking shook him awake. Cassandra nodded at him, bundled up in her winter coat. 

“It’s high time someone got fresh air,” She said in her monotone voice, so Varian slid off the counter to join her. He waved to Lance on the way out, and off they went. 

No sooner than they left, Rapunzel peeked her head in. “Hey Lance! I have an idea…”

-

Ruddiger zoomed ahead, happily digging up snow and dirt to catch a meal. The winter sun was bright yet also weak, sparkling off snow mounds. Varian’s small boots kicked up powder as he walked, each step more exaggerated than need be. He gripped Cassandra’s hand tightly. Out of everyone Varian frequently interacted with, she scared him the most… except maybe for the King. But he trusted her not to let him get hurt, not after saving him from the Stabbingtons. 

Sure enough, she whispered “Careful, it’s slippery.” And lifted him up and over the patch of ice with just her hands. 

“Wow, you’re really strong,” She raised her eyebrow at him. 

“I have to be, it’s my job to keep Rapunzel safe.”

Just Rapunzel? Not him, not Eugene? What about the king? Didn’t they need protecting? Thankfully, Cassandra saw his confused face and smiled faintly. “And you, someone’s gotta clean up after you.”

“Eugene said it’s rude to leave things for the maids to clean up.” 

A look akin to shock overtook her face. She stopped walking, temporarily startled, forcing Varian to stop with her. “He said that?” A nod. “Huh. Guess he’s not a terrible father after all.”

That caught the child’s attention. Rage simmered in his gut, bubbling and twisting his insides around. He glared up at her with a look he hoped was intimidating, but judging by her veiled laughter, he’d failed. A booted foot stomped the snow, and by his side small black spikes sprouted. It wasn’t noticeable, only as tall as his shoelaces, but it was there regardless. Just as fast as it appeared, the rage fell down his body and leaked out into the earth.

“Don’t call Eugene bad,” Varian pouted, cheeks puffing up and lip jutting out. “He’s the best!”

“Oh yea? Why’s that?” Cassandra teased, resuming their walk. 

“He’s a reallllllly good reader. Like, really good. And he’s smart,” That got a laugh. “And he saved me!” 

“So did I,” she reminded him, but that just got her frustrated boot shuffles. At last the handmaiden took pity on him. “Ok, ok. I’m sorry I called Eugene a bad dad. He loves you very much, and you love him.” He preened. 

He went to speak, but soft crunches interrupted his train of thought. From around the bend, two familiar and burly men step into view. 

“...no word from either of them, but Hector never answers my letters anyway-” Quirin was speaking, with Frederick hanging onto his every word. Their faces were both solemn, stoic and businesslike. Whatever they were talking about, it was likely serious. But the seriousness evaporates when Quirin catches sight of the young child. “Hello there!” Frederick’s face remains impassive, but he seems to let the subject drop. At least for now. 

Something about Quirin just screams welcoming to Varian. It’s strange. His time on the streets as well as his encounter with the Stabbingtons should have made Varian terrified of men like him, but Quirin’s autumn scent and warm smile relaxed Varian. He grinned his toothy smile and waved. 

“Your majesty,” Cassandra bowed. The King nodded, and she stood back up. He gave Varian a nod as well, but he had no idea to react. Bow? Smile? Hide? All of those options sounded like a bad idea, so he just stood still for now. 

“Hello, Cassandra, Varian.” The latter name was said with a hint of apprehension. “Enjoying the weather?”

“Yes sir,” The lady-in-waiting responded, and she gently nudged Varian. He nodded frantically, so fast his head might as well have flown off. Quirin seemed amused, at least. 

“Don’t stay out too long, we don’t want this young man to catch a cold,” Quirin ruffled Varian’s hair, and the child blushed. 

“We won’t, sir.” Cassandra bowed to him as well. Satisfied, they moved on, leaving Varian and Cassandra to finish their walk around the castle ground. “Cassie? Who is Quirin?” 

She seemed surprised by the question. “Who is he? I think he’s an advisor, or something.”

“A what?”

“He helps the king.”

Varian’s mouth dropped open in an “o” shape. Who knew Kings needed help? Not him, that’s for sure! 

“Come on, let’s go inside, it’s getting cold.” She led him away, until Varian couldn’t see either man when he turned around. 

“As I was saying, Adira is hard to track down, but-” Quirin’s words halted as he stumbled over something. “What the…” A small cluster of black rocks, innocent and unflinching. The men shared a nervous glance. 

When Cassandra dropped Varian off inside, she watched as Varian toddled off to find Eugene, turned around, and came face to face with a Rapunzel grinning like a maniac. 

The princess covered her friend’s mouth before she could scream. “Come on! I need your help. We only have a few more hours!” Without any explanation, Cass found herself being dragged off to god knows where. 

-

Waking up on the early side was not new to Varian. Ever since he’d come to the castle, Eugene would drag him out of bed no later than 9:30 am. And he’d learned to adapt, even if Varian preferred to get up when the sun’s rays were directly overhead. But 7 was really pushing it. 

“Noooo!” He whined, clutching his sheets like a lifeline. “I don’t wanna get up!” 

Eugene grunted from where he was holding his legs. For a 4 year old Varian had a hell of a grip. “Come on, kid, you can go back to sleep when we’re done if you want! Don’t have to change out of your pjs either. But you gotta get up now or you’re gonna miss your surprise.” 

“Nooooo!” Varian wailed, burying his head into the duvet. 

“Yesssss.” 

With one final tug, Eugene managed to dislodge his child from his bed, sending them both sprawling on the floor. They laid there for a moment. Eugene questioned his life choices as Ruddiger rounded the bed and licked his face. 

He carried Varian down the corridor to the throne room. At this early hour, the only people about were night shift guards preparing to turn in. A strange quiet filled the castle, a sense of peace lingered. It would be a nice experience if Varian wasn’t bone-tired. Honestly who decided that 7 am was a normal time to get up? It was understandable during the summer, but not at Christmas!

Grand doors swung upon, revealing the same setup as yesterday, only several people sat under the tree. Familiar blonde hair swung around to reveal Rapunzel’s exuberant face. By her side stood her family plus Lance and Cass, all looking tired but content. Presents sat scattered, surrounded by pine needles that had fallen. 

“Merry Christmas!” She cried as she stood up and ran over. Both boys found themselves in a trademark bear hug. “It’s our first Christmas as a family, how exciting!” 

“Sunshine, you’re squishing meeee!” Eugene wheezed, face turning red. The princess paid him no heed, leading him (and by extension, Varian) over to the pile. Several gifts with multiple names in fun colors and patterns awaited them. It was at this time Varian realized he knew how to read most things, but his name was not one of them. Thankfully, Rapunzel was eager to hand out everyone’s gifts. Slowly Varian’s pile grew larger and larger.

Cassandra winced. “I think you went a little overboard, Raps,” 

“Nonsense! What makes you say that?” Cassandra pointed to where Varian sat by a pile larger than himself. He leaned against Eugene, eyes drooping. 

The man rustled his shoulder. “Wake up, kiddo, open your presents.”

“My what?”

“All those boxes, they’re for you! They have fun stuff inside them.”

“Like what?”

The gathering broke into chuckles. “Why don’t you find out?” asked Arianna. 

Curious eyes grabbed the largest box and fingers ran across its paper. Happy snowmen decorated the outside, and he was loathe to destroy it. But Rapunzel gave him a thumbs up, and that was all the invitation needed. With a war cry, Varian ripped off smiling snowmen with claw and fang. Even Ruddiger joined in on the mayhem, happily shaking his head as he held a piece of wrapping paper. The box gave way to…. Another box? But this one was on wheels.

A cart! A painted cart! It was light blue, just like his hair, and painted on the side was a name. Varian ran his fingers over it in confusion. 

“Ruddiger,” Eugene whispered. “It says Ruddiger. So he can stay with you.” Varian’s eyes lit up in understanding. Without any pomp, he scooped up the raccoon and plopped him straight into the cart, much to Ruddiger’s confusion. Then, like a shot out of a canon, they were off. Varian screeched with delight as he zoomed around the throne room, wheels clacking against the marble floor as Ruddiger chittered in similar joy. 

“So, I think he likes it!” Rapunzel chimed. 

“He better,” Cassandra muttered. She was not a fan of staying up till midnight to help Rapunzel wrap her last-minute Christmas gifts. Lance got to do the easy part, too. All he had to do was sign! Meanwhile Cassandra nearly broke her nail for that one gift. 

“Varian, you can play with that some more after the rest of your gifts! Come say thank you!” Eugene called. The child skidded to a stop, happily launching himself at Rapunzel for a hug. 

“Thank you Punzel! Love you!” He pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. It should’ve been gross, but to her, it was perfect.

Eugene smiled from his seat on the floor. It was pretty damn perfect to him too.

#tangled #tts #tangled the series #varian #tts varian #team awesome #tangled eugene #eugene fitzherbert

[violetwolfraven]

sprace 49

Uhhhh there is no 49 so I’m just gonna assume you meant 46? (In hindsight I’m now thinking you meant the other prompt list and I am a moron but I already wrote this thing so???)

(For any pairing except javid) I have to tell Jack about my relationship but he’s basically everyone’s big brother and—

Get ready for some canon-era with a couple of background ships.

...

“Okay,” Race took a deep breath, “I can do this. I can do this.”

Albert rolled his eyes, “You’re worryin’ for nothin’, Racer. He’s gonna be fine with it.”

“Yeah,” Finch agreed, “I mean, he was fine with me and Albie.”

“And me and Romeo,” Specs added.

“Damn near all of us is queer,” Finch pointed out, “Including Jack, himself. It’ll be fine, Race.”

Race shook his head, “It’s different. Both of ya and your partners are Manhattan.”

“Sorry,” Mike said, looking a little confused but smiling all the same, “Who’re we talkin’ ‘bout? Racer has a lover outside of Manhattan?”

“Race is fucking Spot Conlon,” Albert supplied.

“Daaaaaaaaaamn! Good job, Racetrack!”

Race just rolled his eyes. He and Spot had been together officially—as in, on the same page, in love and they both know it—for over a year now, after a talk they’d had right after the strike. And even if it had kind of started out as a friends with benefits kind of deal, just making out whenever they both had some time, ‘fuck-buddies’ or whatever the hell half Race’s friends seemed to think they were, did not describe what they actually were at all.

Albert knew damn well they weren’t fuck-buddies—Race told his best friend enough that he knew that they weren’t even fucking yet—which was why Race felt the need to slap him with his hat.

Like he had wondered many times, Race wondered again why he had to go and choose the one who loved to cause chaos as his best friend.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” Mike said helpfully, “Jack likes when all of us is happy.”

“Yeah, but he’s also really protective,” Race groaned, “He’s like a big brother to me—to all of us!”

“So let him give Spot a shovel talk,” Specs said simply, “That’ll be the end of it. Mike’s right. Jack can be protective, but he’s happiest when all of us is happy.”

“I’s been your friend since we was littles, Racer,” Albert put in, “And I’ve never seen you as happy as you’s been since you and Spot got official.”

Race had to admit, he hadn’t been this happy since... well, he didn’t remember being this happy even when his folks were still alive.

Spot made him happy, made him brave, and that was why he was finally plucking up the courage to tell Jack about them.

“Okay,” he said, forcing a smile, “I’m gonna do it.”

Race’s friends cheered him on as he headed out to Jack’s fire escape penthouse.

“Jack, we needs to talk.”

Race was kind of counting his blessings that neither Crutchie nor Davey was out there, so he had a one-on-one with Manhattan’s leader.

Jack looked a bit concerned as he put down the pape he was drawing on and nodded.

“Okay. ‘Bout what?”

Race took a deep breath, “What would ya say if I was... if I was kinda...”

“Spit it out, Racer. What is it?”

“I’m courtin’ Spot Conlon,” Race blurted, forcing himself to keep looking Jack in the eye.

He was scared of his brother’s reaction, but he needed to see it all the same.

Jack looked at the ground, “Shit. Shit. Oh my God. How didn’t I see that?”

“I’m sorry,” Race offered.

“Don’t be,” Jack chuckled, “I mean, I got Ike sneakin’ out to Brooklyn already, thinkin’ he’s slick. I don’t know how I didn’t see you doin’ it, too.”

“You gots a lot of guys. Ya can’t possibly keep track of all of us. Besides, I’m one of the ones ya know can take care of himself.”

Jack snorted, “No. No, ya can’t. You’re just stupidly good at talkin’ your way out of fights. So, how long has this thing with Spot been goin’ on?”

Race finally felt like he could breathe. Jack was taking this a lot better than he thought he would.

“Officially, since right after the strike. But we was makin’ out outside sellin’ hours for a few months before that.”

Jack wrinkled his nose, “Okay, I didn’t need to know that last part. But... damn. It’s been over a year. Am I that oblivious?”

He seemed fine with it, but...

“Hey, what’s up?” Race asked, “You seem sad.”

Jack sighed, “I ain’t sad, Race. Not exactly. It’s just... ya know how hard things are for me and Davey, right? We barely ever get a minute just the two of us, and that ain’t even takin’ into account havin’ to keep things secret.”

“Yeah. Of course I knows that.”

“Spot lives in fuckin’ Brooklyn. Not only that—he’s got the responsibilities of leadin’ probably the biggest borough in New York. I mean, anything’s possible, but I just don’t see how ya could make that work. I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

Race tilted his head, “We make it work now. ‘Sides, it ain’t like I’m the leader of Manhattan.”

“Racer...”

Race’s stomach dropped as he realized what Jack was really saying.

“Oh.”

“Race... I’m 18. I’m gettin’ too old for this, and Davey and I... we’s been lookin’ at apartments. This wasn’t how I wanted to break the news to ya, but... we can’t stay much longer. And when we go, Manhattan’ll be yours and Crutchie’s.”

Race had known this was coming for... well, ever since he became one of Jack’s seconds, when he was 12. He’d known it more in how slowly, over the last few months, he’d found himself being asked for input on various issues more and more often. Jack and Davey thought they were being subtle, but Race and Crutchie had noticed weeks ago.

He’d known it was coming, but that didn’t mean it didn’t ache, just thinking about the boy who’d watched over him for most of his childhood leaving.

“When?”

Jack sighed, shrugging, “I don’t know. Soon. Davey wants to wait till after winter—hand you and Crutchie the reins when it’ll be easy to keep everyone alive so’s ya can get used to it before it gets hard.”

“That makes sense,” Race reasoned, remembering how hard it was for Jack. He’d had to take the reins during a hard winter, because the previous leader of Manhattan died.

“Look,” Jack smiled, “I’m happy for ya, Racer. Spot, too. Really. And honestly, I’m not too worried about him hurtin’ you intentionally. I know you was close friends before ya even got together—which, by the way, I cannot believe ya didn’t tell me, you asshole—so he won’t raise a hand or probably even his voice to ya. But it’s one thing with Crutchie, sneakin’ around with that girl he met at Medda’s—“

“Crutchie’s sneakin’ around with a girl?” Race asked, honestly delighted by this bit of gossip.

“Yeah... he thinks I don’t know, but we sleep on the same fuckin’ fire escape. I followed him one time when he snuck out to see her. Anyway, it’s one thing with that. For one thing, Crutchie don’t have to keep his sweetheart a secret ‘less he wants to—she’s a girl.”

“You and Davey—“

“Let me finish, Racer. For another thing, Spot is King of Brooklyn. He’s got eyes on him most of the time and even when he doesn’t, there’s no way he could sneak to Manhattan regularly without gettin’ noticed. He’s probably only gotten away with bein’ with ya this long because you sell at Sheepshead.”

Race wanted to argue, but he had to admit... Spot almost never came to Manhattan. Race was always the one going to Brooklyn for him.

“If you’s one of Manhattan’s leaders, you gotta sell in Manhattan, and even after hours, there’s no way you can constantly sneak off to another borough without some of the wrong people noticin’.”

Damn. He was probably right. Race and Spot were stealing moments now. If Race was selling in Manhattan, it would be damn near impossible to get time. He definitely wouldn’t see Spot every day anymore, possibly not even every week.

“Look—Crutchie could do this by himself, long as he’s got some muscle backin’ him up. With Mush, Blink, and Elmer, among others, bein’ young enough to stick around a while, that shouldn’t be a problem. If you don’t wanna be leader, I can start gettin’ him ready for—“

“No.”

Race had known he was going to be helping lead when Jack grew up and left since he was 12. He was 16 now—one of the older ones. He’d been instinctively protecting the others for years. He already looked at most of the younger ones as younger brothers.

Race had been ready for a long time to protect his younger brothers, no matter the cost.

Even if that cost was a closer relationship with the boy he loved.

“Spot and I can do a long-distance thing,” he said, “We’ll be fine. I’ll tell him... sometime. Tell me when you and Davey are movin’ out... I don’t know, but just tell me at least a little in advance.”

Jack nodded, “Okay. It won’t be for another couple months, at least, but...”

Race definitely wasn’t getting choked up. Those definitely weren’t tears in Jack’s eyes. It was just...

The Newsies were the only family either of them had known since they were little. Jack had been protecting Race, or trying to, at least, since they were about 5 and 7.

Race consoled himself with how it wasn’t like they’d really be saying goodbye. Jack had given up that old dream of Santa Fe. He was staying close, which meant he could visit, but...

Damn. Race was going to miss him.

“So, Spot’s good to ya?” Jack asked, “He treats ya right? Stops if ya ask?”

Race nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, of course. He’s... he’s great. I mean, he don’t seem to think he deserves me, or at least he didn’t, at first. He kept tellin’ me about all the kills he had to make as if that’d make me walk away.”

“Hmm...” Jack patted his shoulder, “Maybe we needs to have a talk about your taste in men, Racer. Do I need to tell Davey ‘bout who you’s courtin’?”

Race laughed, “Please don’t. I’ll tell him myself and you can have a worried talk ‘bout me later.”

“We ain’t your mom and dad, kid”

“Coulda fooled me, dad.”

Jack laughed, and Race had to admit, that hug made him feel a lot better about... well, everything.

“Seriously, though—you, me, and Davey—we’re goin’ over to Brooklyn tomorrow night. We’re gonna say we got business to talk, but really, me and Davey are gonna talk to your boy. Can’t have anyone hurtin’ Manhattan’s future leader, can we?”

Race laughed. Honestly, the idea of anyone giving Spot fucking Conlon a shovel talk was hilarious to him.

But, that was just Race’s family. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

#newsies #sprace #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #jack kelly #big brother jack kelly #dad friend jack kelly #background javid #background redfinch #background spromeo #violet’s writing

[imaginebabygurl]

Feeling Good Part 3 F.V-Imagine

Hey loves, since I had not posted in a bit This is gonna be a really long one I hope you enjoy the read and music that has been attached. P.s - sorry for any spelling mistakes it should still be a good read.

There were angry hisses and growls from Jacob and your family.  Edward's face grew cold with great concern for you: Bella started to panic "no, No!. There Not taking Her anywhere and she's not going to stay with those monster!... Wh-What if they Kill her because of the last time With Renesmee." " She's leaving, she can't stay here, I won't let them take her. She's going to live with my mom in Jacksonville". As Bella frantically tries to pack her things, Edward stops her "Bella", you know that's not going to work.  They have a tracker Demetri. They could easily find her, your mother, and Phil and Kill all three of them instantly. There's no point in putting others in danger." Carlisle spoke, " Edward is right, we just all need to be calm and there old friends of mine, they will come we'll have the meeting and clear the air, but we should also prepare they can be unpredictable." With that said, your mom still packed a small bag with your stuff just in case everyone started being more alert and wary of their surrounding. As for you. You had to start coming home earlier and stay out late less, which put a damper on your senior your but you didn't mind because you still thankfully have the chance, to even see and hang out with your friends. And coming home earlier wasn't such a bad idea since now it was November 1st, winter was approaching fast, and it started to get darker quicker. But that also meant the Volturi were on there a way you didn't know when exactly. And on the first week of December, they arrived, you were at school when they had come, and you had a group project to complete, which was already completed: you just stayed back at school to finalize the presentation of the slide show and sort out who did what in your project. You said bye to your girlfriend's Lily, Dee, and Kiki and told them: you'll see them when you've returned because you were going on a getaway trip just for the weekend with you and your sister only. Arriving home, you see a strange set of vampires with crimson red eyes. Anyone that saw them would be a fool to think they were normal or contact lenses. They all waited for you to step into the house,  soon as you turned to close the door behind you, you felt a presence standing quite close smelling you.  Remembering that they drank human blood while the Cullen's settled only for animals. "ahh...delicious." the voice quietly whispered into your ear. Quickly turning around facing them, but by the time you had done so, the vampire retreaded standing next to the other kings, the one that had spoken was Aro. The three were quite beautiful, you could tell who wash who and their personality: Aro with life in his eyes was the main king out of the three yes hey shared the same power, but he was the head and looking at you wildly with gleaming eyes. Next on his left was a bored and a perpetually sad-looking man, looking as if he had a sense of longing to end his miserable life and has seen the many secrets and mysteries of the world ad is not tired. On the right was Caius, the pure blond-haired man, which his hair was better than your aunt Rosalie's, not a single strand astray but put together and looked as if every strand is from silk. But his expression filled with such disdain you had never seen such a face, not even when Rosy disapproved of Bella and Edward taking you in the first place she grew to like you and became your second or third mother. As for the guards, you recognized every last one of them: Demetri, the world's best tracker no know can hide from him, then there were the twins' Jane and Alec, Jane could make others feel pain while her brother could take away peoples sense completely, and finally the man towering an over everybody else next to Demetri was Felix, and he was beautiful, and I couldn't resist him. I knew deep down he was most likely the killer of my parents only following orders.  I regained my composure and said "hello" anyway. Aro then grabbed my hand without hesitation and began to look through all the memories that I had lived through, "Interesting, you've had quite the bittersweet life." all the while, Aro still looking intensely into my Y/e/c colored eyes.  Pulling away completely and turning to look at my parents, "She'll be coming with us now." " She Won't be going anywhere!" my mother said while whirling me behind her back, not even realizing. But my body was feeling the after effect.  My dad Edward in front now in front of both of us. Aro looked at Felix, and Felix stared approaching, smiled,  "Edward seems like you've come back for round two."  Hisses were erupting from the room before Esme stepped in." please not in the house. I'm sure there must be some mistake. Y/n has done nothing wrong and she will be turned, in due time when its right Carlisle will take care of her." " Yes I already have the preparations in place Aro" and unexpectedly a "No!" had come from Felix. Aro looked at Felix and took his hand. Felix obeyed,  when Aro was done he laughed like a maniac and turn to me, repeating what he said earlier, " interesting." With everyone in the room at that point confused as to what was going on. I  spoke,  "What so interesting? and why do you keep saying that?" by this point, I was incredibly annoyed.   I just wanted to eat, " I'm going to the kitchen, I'm hungry and this whole dramatic crap, I'm over it." Walking away.  Nessie had made my favorite chicken parmesan with some pasta and salad.  Setting my plate down on the table, everyone was staring at me, but I ignored the burning stare put in my earphones. One of the King's Marcus taps me on the shoulder,  "May I join you?". I paused for a while unsure of what to say and he followed up the silence by saying "I had already drunk so, I won't bite."  Marcus offering me what appears to be a sympathetic smile on a sad-faced man. It was kind of nice to see him smile, " sure." I said plainly and he motioned everyone for us to be alone.  Everyone left, but the tall one hesitated to leave, which then Marcus said" Felix, she will be alright, I promise." The man only nodded and took his leave, "why is he so concerned about me? and what does he have to do with me?". Marcus replied, "Y/n your his mate." the man said point-blank. I looked at him as if he were mad, and he knew what I was thinking. He followed up by saying, " I know you're upset about the death of your parentings, and yes, he was a part of the cause that they're dead. But he simply follows orders if not he will suffer the consequences or maybe a fate worse." "Death." was all I said and a yes was retorted back at me. We sat in silence so I could digest what I have just learned. That the man that I'm supposed to be with: one was my lover and two a part of my parent's death. It was all too much for me to bear and, I ran away as fast as could I ended up taking a nasty fall down a hill and didn't remember a thing about my parent or how they died. All I knew was I falling for a man, I barely knew and I would soon come to know that he sweet but very flirtatious and that would one day get him into trouble and possibly lose all he had with me. He would flirt with everyone including my mother but she doesn't even realize and honestly, at first, I thought okay haha, but when I did decide to leave after graduation to be with him at the castle in Volterra. I was amazed and in awe of the building and come to realize that the rules they enforce I understand but the way they go about it is a little brutal but overall understanding, anyway back to Felix. That's when the boredom started to kick in, after that Felix was on missions constantly and flirting with every dead and living girl that was in sight but the living ones usually became the snack afterward.  it finally came tumbling down when we had a big fight. I was going about my business touring and sightseeing parts of the city I have never been to, one because my Italian wasn't that great and two I was scared being on my own, but boy when I started to speak a bit more fluently be able to get around on my own the sight and places, as well as the delicious pastries and goodies I got to eat, was great. The day was great until Felix angrily approached me, I swear if he still had life in his body his face would be mad with furry, practically dragging me by my wrist and how I know he was angry, Gianna said hello and he did not even bat an eye in her direction and with that, she tried to ask "Hey! Y/n what happened?" and before I can respond Felix picked me up and threw me over his shoulders. "Felix!!!" I shouted because at this point I was angry he was acting like this and he picked me up and headed to the throne room. Aro had looked at me and said "Y/n dove eri?" I responded, "Aro in un Citta in un Caffe". Felix then responded, " If you were in town at one of the cafes!, Why didn't you say anything! or tell someone when you left!". "I did if you had gone into the room to look Smartass! You would have seen It!".  and then the line was drawn " What kind of Girl are you!, You so free-willed, careless, would it kill you to use your head Y/n!?!, you could have been Kill or hurt by some low life!". "But I was-. before I could speak Felix pinned me to the wall and I then felt true fear of what others fate that had suffered at the hand of the great Felix Volturi and worst of all the thing that hurt the most " Y/n we should have killed you when we had the chance, like your mother and father!!." him not realizing what he said "Felix!!!" Aro called "put down the girl, she's terrified...". Once Felix snapped out of it "Y/n I'm sorry." But before he could touch you, you slapped his hand away and made your decision to leave but Caius spoke "What you did and said to Y/n was distasteful and I don't care for humans all the much, but I think some time in the dungeon would do you some good." Without Felix saying anything he simply nodded and took himself in and before he would have come to know you had already packed your things to go home.

#felix+volturi+imagine #felix+volturi+x+reader #felix volturi #imagine #twilight #volturi

[pigeon-princess]

Edmund Ravenwood’s Backstory

Thank you all for being so patient!! I finally have the comprehensive story of my DnD character Edmund’s life, past experiences, how he met his patron The Winter Prince and right up until he first ran into our dnd party! I’ve also included a lot of of never before seen secret artwork below the cut! 

Some of the backstory content discussed in this has not been shared with the other players in the campaign, so if anyone of you are reading this (Selby I’m looking at you) avert your eyes!! 

EDMUND’S EARLY YEARS

For the full family history of the Ravenwoods, I only know as much as Edmund knows which is not a lot (My DM holds the secrets). As far as it concerns to Edmund, the Ravenwood family have always been renowned for their arcane abilities, holding a strong Elven lineage that dates back centuries. His father, Rykar Ravenwood used be high ranking officer in the Queen’s army before she died and now holds the position of Kings representative for the state of Vela, in the continent of Lunaris. 

During the time of his military service, Edmund’s father left his family to fight for a few years and when he returned, he brought back his illegitimate Half Elven son, much to the dismay of his wife, Selphine Ravenwood. The identity of Edmund’s birth mother is unknown to him (Only my DM knows) and absolutely everyone refuses to talk about it, the only thing he can assume was that she was human. Although not knowing has left Edmund feeling uneasy at times, in order to fit in with his family, he’s never dwelt on who she could be or had any strong desire to seek her out.

Edmund is the middle child of Ravenwood's 5 children. The oldest son, Ambrose is a respected professor at Hansen’s Academy of the Arcane, doing his best to keep himself composed and proper despite Edmund giving him constant headaches. The oldest daughter Leona is the commander of Vela’s current military force, she has a particularly cold and serious attitude towards most things. Corda, who is slightly younger than Edmund, takes after her mother and is a young socialite with an interest in fashion. She hides a particularly cruel personality behind her sweet smile. Erinaya is the youngest of five children, and has always been the one sibling that openly cares for Edmund. She has outward adoration for him and he would often take her out for adventures and play with her throughout their childhood together. 

His parents were distant in his upbringing, his father would occasionally show him slight signs of warmth when the rest of the family was not around. However, his mother held a particular disdain for him as Edmund was a walking, talking reminder of her husband’s infidelity.

Another constant reminder that Edmund did not fit into his family was the fact that he was completely magically inept. Despite countless tutors, he was unable to do any kind of magic properly, either the spells would not work at all or things had a habit of exploding. The crueler members of his family (His mother and Corda) would often say that it’s the filthy blood in his veins (the human half) that stops the magic from coming to him. 

While spending most of his time being raised by the family’s hired nanny Mary, he developed a similar accent to her own, one less posh than the rest of his family which suited him just fine when people commented on it (Eddie’s accent more is East London/Cockney while his family is closer to am upper class English accent. I used to be really bad at speaking in his accent but I’ve gotten a lot better with practice and now I can slip into it no problem!).  

Most of Edmund’s early years were spent playing out in the woods at the back of the Ravenwood's grand estate. It was there that Edmund met his first friends, two human twins by the names of Rosa and Elijah and despite how his parents discouraged him from associating with the common folk, it only urged him to seek them out more. His friends started calling him Eddie, and the nickname stuck as his little band of friends grew over the years. 

Some of his new mates included a chilled out blue Tiefling called Hex, who is the go to guy to get ahold of all your illegal substances (He was also the person that Edmund lost his virginity to in their teenage years), a Half Orc named Zarak (He became the designated Mum friend of the group) and a Gnome girl with a bold personality called Kiplin. 

AURIGA & APOLLO 

By the time Eddie was a teenager, rebellion was deeply rooted into his personality. The next state over from Vela is a place called Auriga, it's known for its loud music and wild parties. Using the family’s teleportation circle, Eddie and his mates would nearly always sneak off for nights out and spring break holidays. 

A lot of those years spent partying in Auriga are still very hazy to Eddie to this day, the copious amounts of alcohol, party drugs and occasional hook ups have all blurred together. However, things took a turn when on one of these wild nights out, his friends dragged him to a concert for a band of bards known as Killer Korpse. 

Watching the lead singer perform, Eddie was absolutely starstruck and fell in love on the spot. Apollo was everything Eddie dreamed of, a rebellious bard full of magic, singing about not giving a shit and as an added bonus he was a human which his parents would hate. Everything to do with Apollo was a world away from his uptight family and a reputation he has no hopes of living up to. 

After stalking the band for several weeks, hanging outside the backstage door and hovering in the taverns they were staying in, surprisingly Apollo actually took notice of him. One night when Eddie was hopelessly loitering near backstage, the door opened and instead of the usual guard telling him to fuck off, Apollo stepped out and right over to him and Eddie stared up at him completely lost for words.

Apollo thought the stalker kid was really funny so he decided to bring him backstage to meet the rest of the band. After Eddie had downed a bunch of drinks he started oversharing about how much he hated his family and it was then that it clicked for Apollo who Eddie actually is, since the Ravenwoods are very well known. When Eddie started a very drunk confession of love to Apollo, he decided he was going to have a lot of fun with this and a few minutes later Apollo had Eddie pinned to the couch in a very drunk make out session.

After that Eddie was caught in a whirlwind of things and over the spring break he was brought along with the band for their tour. He was having the best time of his life, half in a daze because he couldn’t believe he was spending nearly every night in bed with Apollo, the rebellious bard of his dreams. 

Apollo and his bandmates were pretty much just assholes, the fame had really gone to their heads and they would get away with doing pretty much whatever they wanted. Eddie being naive and being in his own happy world never noticed Apollo sneaking off to hook up with other groupies or making fun of Eddie behind his back. Half the time the band was high on a drug known as Sharp Sugar that’s often used to enhance your senses (AKA gives you an advantage on all ability checks) however the come down can be brutal on the body and makes the substance highly addictive. Some of the shine for his relationship with Apollo started to wear off after having some very scary encounters with a drug deprived Apollo. 

Even though Apollo was a dick a lot of the time, there are also some moments where he could be incredibly sweet, and parts where he would share stories of his own life with Eddie and the sincerity of it made Eddie fall deeper and deeper into devotion. 

On the night that Killer Korpse finished their last show for the spring break in Auriga and just before they were about to travel to the capital city to tour again, there was a big party to celebrate. While Apollo was surrounded by his drunk and very high friends, Eddie approached him with all his courage and told him that he had decided he wasn’t going back to his family and he was going to run away with the band so that they could be together. 

Apollo stood there looking at him seriously for a moment before he started to laugh. He was howling with laughter, clutching onto his friends, his eyes snapped back up to Eddie saying “You can't be serious, look this whole thing was fun while it lasted but everyones heard about the black sheep of the Ravenwood’s now and I'm bored of this. Its over Eddie” 

Absolutely humiliated in front of Apollo’s entire backstage entourage, in a daze Eddie ran away as fast as he could and he slowly made his way home to very angry parents.

HANSEN’S & HUDIC 

By the time Eddie returned to Vela the word had gotten out that the bastard son of the Ravenwood’s was sleeping around with a famous bard. 

In order to quickly shut this rumour down and to get Eddie out of the spotlight, his parents paid to send him to Hansen’s school of the Arcane, under the assumption that he would be watched over by his brother Ambrose (much to his dismay), who is currently working there as a professor. They were hoping that with the correct teaching, Eddie might be able to hone some kind of magical ability. 

There are two ways you can get into the academy, you can either take an extremely difficult exam and practical test, or if you have enough money you can pay your way in. Luckily for Edmund’s family, money is not an issue. 

Not being able to use magic while surrounded by a school for talented magic users is not fun. Especially when everyone knows that you didn’t earn your place and your parents paid for you to be there. And it sucks even more if you don’t actually want to be there in the first place but for Eddie he thought that this would be a wonderful opportunity to stir up some shit. 

Edmund was stuck sharing a dorm room with a human boy called Ozwald. Oz wasn’t too bad, he was one of the only people who didn’t actually look down on Eddie because of his family or lack of magical ability. He was also very patient for putting up with all the trouble Eddie was seeming to find himself in. 

It was in his numerous detentions that Eddie met his new band of friends. A feisty fire Genasi sorcerer called Flint who had a habit of setting things on fire when he lost his temper. Miriam Makovski, a human wizard who just wanted to hit things with a sword and not use magic like her wizard family insisted. Rowan Buckley, a sweet Firbolg druid who was only in detention because the teacher had forgotten he was still in the classroom organising the books. And last but not least his right hand man and partner in crime Theron Finchley, A Halfling wild magic sorcerer who enjoyed stirring up shit just as much as Eddie did. The group managed to get up to all sorts of mischief, smuggling in drugs and alcohol with the help of Hex, pranking teachers, and messing with the uptight students. 

Heres a drawing I did of Rowan because I love him and I would die for him. 

Once Edmund was starting to finish off his second year the Academy, his lack of magical ability was starting to get to him, especially seeing the shining talent in his friends, even if they didn’t really care about their own magic much at all. Doing some research for the first time in his life, Edmund went down the path of researching powerful beings that could give power to those who seek it. Thinking that perhaps this could be his opportunity to have the magic that he was so jealous of. Sneaking into the restricted section, Edmund came across a book describing a resurrection ritual involving an old god of Betrayal known as Hudic. 

Gathering the supplies for the ritual was tough, some of the ingredients being very hard to get ahold of (including bones of an innocent person and other strange items) and over the next few months,  Edmund worked on drawing up the summoning sigil under the rug in his shared dorm room, hiding it whenever ozwald returned from his studies. 

On one cold evening, as soon as Ozwald left to study in the library, Edmund began the ritual, pouring his own blood into the center of the sigil and chanting the words from the book. As the shadows started to collect around his feet and a grotesque figure began to pull himself from the inscriptions on the ground, it was then that Ozwald walked back into the dorm room having forgotten something. 

At that point everything went wrong, the demon grabbed Ozwald and dragged him back into the shadows with him, blood covering the floor, and the screams of both Oz and Eddie echoing throughout the halls. There was a huge scene students began to run out of bed, Professors running into the dorm room to stop students looking in. And before anyone could grab him, Eddie used the rest of his strength to climb out of the window. And for the second time in his life, Eddie ran away. 

THE WINTER PRINCE

With nothing but the clothes on his back, Eddie blindly walked south. Since the academy was in the southernmost part of Vela, it wasn’t long before he started nearing the border for the state known as Crusis, a cold and unforgiving territory bordered by an endless winter wasteland. Eddie, snuck through the border patrols by pretending to be one of the hundreds of refugees making their way south, all displaced from the war with the fire giants raging across the South East of Lunaris. 

Huddling for warmth in barns and gathering scraps of food where he could, he overheard a group of travellers discussing a hidden library out in the winter wastelands. He had nothing else to live for? Perhaps a magic library would have the solution to his problems. So with what little supplies he could gather, he set out in search of a Library, in hopes that he could find another book that could help him reverse what he had done. 

The wastelands are absolutely brutal, many experienced travellers die out in the cold, so for Edmund he was barely hanging in there. At one point he even had a run in with a polar bear and fought to avoid a handful of white dragon wyrmlings. He wandered the endless snow fields until his legs gave out, and the snow was too strong. 

Edmund lay in the snow, looking up at the greying sky, frostbite already starting to nip at the exposed skin on his face. It was in this lucid state of consciousness that he barely registered a figure standing over him, he could have sworn that he was being lifted, and the last thing he remembered was strong arms carrying him before he passed out. 

It was the press of something to his lips that woke him up. Delirious, naked and covered in blankets of fur, Eddie gazed up at the face of the most ethereal looking man he had ever seen. Long white hair, pale skin, long elven ears and ice seeming to glitter across his features. At his lips, the man was forcefully pushing berries and fruits into his mouth, looking annoyed and telling him to eat or he would die. 

After a few days, when Edmund was mostly recovered, he took note that he had been brought to some kind of palace seemingly sculpted of ice and stone. The man introduced himself simply as The Winter Prince. He explained that he had been banished from his home in the Winter Court of the Feywild and confined to the mortal realm and specifically this small area of wasteland in Crusis. Ignoring any of Edmund’s questions about why he was banished, The Winter Prince proposed a deal to him. 

“I’m trapped here in my castle, I can’t go anywhere or in fact do anything, so if you are able go out and look for someway to release me from this banishment, in return I will grant you access to my power, but you’ll also have to lend me your eyes and your body on occasion.” 

By accepting the deal The Winter Prince would be able to look through his eyes and take control of Eddie’s body when he sees fit. (As a player I have to roll a wisdom save and if I fail then my DM takes control of Eddie’s actions as the Winter Prince. In the beginning of the campaign the other players had no idea what was happening, and no idea who my patron was at all. This has already lead to some AMAZING in game interactions) 

With promise of magic and nothing else left to lose, Eddie agreed and The Winter Prince stepped forward and sealed the contract with a kiss on the forehead. After spending the next few hours running around in the snow, throwing Eldritch blasts into the sky and wooping for joy the two of them prepared for Eddie’s journey back into civilisation. 

In the throne room lined by a large mirror made of glass, Eddie was shocked to see a vision of his reflection standing motionlessly, behind the prince’s throne. The prince explained that it was another added sign of their contract (Eddie now does not have a reflection and doesn’t show up in mirrors) 

The Winter Prince is always very graceful and elegant in his movements and he usually speaks with a relaxed tone, like many of the fey he is cold and cruel but has somewhat of a mischievous edge. Eddie was reminded of the cruel twist of his personality with how The Winter Prince reminded him that the only reason he was chosen was because all the other people that he had found in the snow were already long dead. 

With a new mission in mind, a resistance to the cold and new power running through his veins, Edmund set out to the capital city of Naos to earn some money and start looking for ways to release The Winter Prince’s banishment. And of course he wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to test out his new found magical abilities along the way, perhaps he would even try to unravel some of the mysteries behind his patron’s cold heart. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any questions please let me know because I’d be more than happy to answer! 

#dnd #dungeons & dragons #d&d #dnd5e #Dungeons and Dragons #dnd character #dnd character backstory #dnd backstory #Eddie #Edmund #Edmund Ravenwood #The Winter Prince #Pigeon Princess #my art #d&d character #writing #backstory #dungeons and drawings #WOW WOW lots of secret art in this one #Please check it out if you have time!