#i loathe that a character who is a woman who has faced things that are part of really graphic serious subject matter as a joke or to mock

[mintharasthrone]

if orin was a man she would be so much more popular and given the most empathy

#orin the red #orin #and not met with the misogyny or people not acknowledging what she is a victim to. she's faces violence and the only person #she's been groomed into “loving” is a man who had her by raping her own sister he wants to rape her or for durge to rape her and abuses her #i loathe that a character who is a woman who has faced things that are part of really graphic serious subject matter as a joke or to mock #like if people look at orin and go haha stupid evil crazy woman larian should have done better and not made light of this #the fact that people think she's the least sympthatic is pure misogyny #how tragic that i will never see her turn her rage violence and chaos at the men who abused her groomed her and used her #and she dies so some fucking man can live and get a new life #if you're gonna yell at me about this post i will not respond #even dare i say the most popular villain? if there wasn't durge/gortash? even larian panders to any fav male characters she gets no love #ketheric is an abusive selfish father and the game and fandom see him as some sympathetic character....orin has zero autonomy thinking #ketheric is not even sympathetic but even saying gortash has it the worst more than orin is pure misogyny and your blind thirsting #she has even more trauma than any male version of her can have because misogyny but that's the irony #she would get the empathy if she was a man & female characters in general would be more loved/popular/defended if they were men lbr #those essays an energy women and fandom only put into expressing empathy for tragic men

[antiquarianfics]

Better Than Us

Being a woman is hard, and it’s not necessarily something you’d wish on another.

A/N: Comfort fic because I’m sad and I have not stopped thinking about that scene in Barbie. Warnings: Mentions of sexism, mentions of self-loathing/body issues. Not really proofread. Genre: Angst/Fluff Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, you may like, comment, and reblog.

——

“Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!” The sonographer says, hitting a few more buttons on the ultrasound. “Your baby girl is looking great. I’ll get the sonograms printed off for you to take home, get you cleaned up, and get you out of here. Alright?”

You stare at the sonogram, watching as your baby moves around in your uterus.

Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!

Mom and Dad, it’s a girl.

It’s a girl.

A girl.

Bucky watches you, and when you don't respond to the sonographer after a while, he turns to her and nods.

“Thank you.”

She smiles and nods as she takes a wipe and cleans the gel off your stomach. When she finishes, she smiles and excuses herself to go grab the sonogram photos from the printer in another room.

You pull your shirt down and sit up on the exam table.

“You all right, Sweetheart?” Bucky asks, concern laced in his voice. He gently run his hand through your hair comfortingly.

You lean into his touch before looking up at him and forcing a smile. You’re attempting to be reassuring, but he seems to see through it, you think. Bucky lets it go, though, and kisses your forehead.

——

You’re quiet for the rest of the day, and it worries Bucky. Usually after a doctor’s appointment, you’re giddy; you love getting news about your unborn child.

“Bucky! The baby’s the size of a grapefruit now! Isn’t that crazy?”

“Buck, did you know our baby has fingernails already? Wild.”

“Holy shit! Holy shit! James, come here! The baby just kicked!”

Bucky was always just as excited to hear about his child, and he was expecting to be celebrating finding out the sex. However, ever since the words “it’s a girl” were uttered, you’d been quiet.

“Could she be disappointed?” Bucky wonders, but it seems so unlikely he pushes the thought aside.

When the majority of the day passes without you saying much or expressing any excitement about your daughter, Bucky can’t help but confront you.

“Y/N? Doll?” He asks, a little nervous.

You’re sitting on the couch, fiddling with the blanket across your lap, and the TV on and ignored in front of you. You hum in acknowledgement, but you don’t meet his gaze.

“Doll,” he says again, moving to sit next to you, bringing his hand gently to your face so that he can divert your gaze to his. “Is everything alright? You’ve been quiet since the appointment.”

You clench your jaw, obviously anxious. Perhaps a little angry with yourself.

“You’ll be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because you’re gonna realize you’re having a baby with someone who’s going to be a terrible mother.”

Bucky is taken aback. You’re so sincere that it scares him.

“Y/N, honey, you’re not going to be a terrible mother. Why would you think that?”

You look away from him to try and hide your impending tears.

“We’re having a girl.”

“And that means you’re going to be a terrible mother?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together. He is absolutely not following.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just. We’re having a girl, and I should be excited, but I’m not. I’m going to be—no, I am—a terrible mother because I’m upset I’m having a daughter.”

Bucky is still not following, and his hesitance to respond pushes you to keep going.

“It’s not that I don’t want a daughter. It’s that being a woman really sucks. One day you’re a kid, playing with Barbies, playing tag, making up games no one else understands, and the next day you’re so self conscious about random things; and men look at you when you don’t want them to; and people make fun of you for liking anything; and no matter how good you are at your job, people still question if you should have it.

“I remember the first time I was aware my stomach was bigger than it should be to be considered pretty. I was in the 5th grade, Buck. I was standing in line to throw my lunch away and go to recess, I looked down at my feet, and I saw my stomach. I remember sucking it in and never stopping. And when I told my mom, she didn’t tell me not to. She didn’t tell me I was healthy, and a kid, and that I was beautiful without sucking my stomach in. No. She praised me. Told me she did the same thing. Said it strengthens our abs and makes us healthier when it really messes with your breathing, and reshapes your body, and-“

You cut yourself off with your own tears. You’re immediately pulled into Bucky’s arms as he moves to soothe you; a comforting hand slides up and down your back, soft kisses are pressed to your forehead, and sweet nothings and reassurances meet your ears.

When you finally calm down some, Bucky pulls away, grasping your shoulders and holding you just far enough away to look into your eyes.

“Listen, I hear you. The way women are treated—the way you’re treated—sucks. It really does. But it’s a lot better than when I was a kid, and it takes women like you recognizing that the way you’ve been treated is wrong and working to make it better for your daughters. The fact that you’re upset for your daughter—not about her—means you’re a good mom. And I know you’re gonna do everything you can to instill confidence in her and let her be a kid as long as possible. And we are going to teach her how she should be treated, and we are going to teach her how to stand up for herself.

“And if we ever have a son, we’ll teach him to respect women. Not to ogle or harass them. We’ll raise our kids to be better than we are.”

Bucky’s speech takes you off guard. You’d expected him to tell you you were being dramatic. You’d expected him to tell you that you should just be happy about having a daughter regardless of what that entails.

You’d expected him to act like every man that he was not.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m not a bad mom?”

“You’re not a bad mom.”

A pause. You catch your breath; Bucky holds you close.

“Hey, Bucky?” You say after a while.

“Hmm?” He hums. He is gently massaging your scalp to comfort you as he holds you.

“We’re having a girl!” You pull back to look at him, a smile across your face. You’ve finally processed the day, its revelations, and Bucky’s assurances, and you’re finally ready to be happy.

“We’re having a girl,” Bucky agrees, smiling and kissing your forehead.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[akystaracer22]

Free the Bird from its Gilded Cage

Synopsis: Lucifer would tell anyone who asked his greatest regret was letting humanity eat the apple. Better than admitting what he really regretted.

Notes

Golly gee good thing affairs didn’t exist back then huh!

In which Lucifer’s tism hurts his best friend, the fic.

I think I can tag this as Edenpoly considering the conversation between Lucifer and Lilith.

I give my greatest thanks to my good friend Hat who uttered the phrase “I raise a glass to the friend you could have been and drink to the monster you became” (Or something of the sort) which has not left my brain 2 years later.

No shade on other people’s depictions of the ancient archangels. I love good archangels as much as you guys but… this is very much bashing.

I’m so sorry Michael. And Azrael, and every single angel who’s characters I butcher in this AU. It’s not you guys I swear.

God on the other hand fuck you I’m not sorry.

I have been told by many people irl that I have religious trauma. I didn’t think I did but fuck it we ball.

I am so sorry this came out late but I had two assignments and I'm moving houses, I'll try not to have a repeat.

Word count: 1957

Fic under cut!

Lucifer felt Lilith before he saw her, the first woman’s aura screaming frustration and hurt louder than the tears in her eyes.

She was sitting under an aspen tree with her legs tucked to her chest.

Lucifer didn’t need to guess why she was upset; it could really only be one thing these days.

“Adam did something again, didn’t he.”

Lilith huffed and lifted her head to meet Lucifer’s gaze, “We fought, again. He still doesn’t get it.”

Lucifer sighed and sat down next to the first woman, not for the first time the little voice in his head bemoaned Adams chronic inability to listen to anyone other than God. It was really starting to cause problems in Eden.

“He’ll regret it.”

“He always does, but he still does it.”

Lucifer nodded, “He needs to learn that God isn’t right about everything,” His siblings would murder him if they knew he was spreading this kind of blasphemy, “But I do agree, it’s a little irritating.”

“It is!” Lucifer jerked as Lilith stood up abruptly and began to pace, “He’s great most of the time don’t get me wrong, but he’s just increasingly growing more and more insufferable! It’s like every time he gets better he just goes straight back to being worse!”

“Truly the trials and tribulations of the first humans.”

“I just wish he would listen to me! Not some stuck up self-important know it all who thinks I’m worthless.”

Lucifer wisely held back the instinctive defence of the Creator, “Especially when you are so much more than that.”

Lilith seemed to finally run out of steam, falling back into Lucifer’s arms and holding him tightly, “I hate this… I hate him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t… I hate the man God wants him to be.”

“I hate that man too,” Lucifer admitted, “I hate how he hurts everyone.”

Because it wasn’t just Lilith that was left hurting. Lucifer hated how he was losing track of the near silent breakdowns of Adam’s.

God created humanity different from the grand design, and every day Lucifer loathed that fact more and more.

“He’s going to win, that man.”

“Neither of us will let him.”

“He’ll let himself,” Lilith hissed right by his ear, the sound sending a shiver down Lucifer’s spine, by the choirs that felt good “Adams an idiot.”

“Yep!” Call Lucifer blasphemous, but he was so tempted to-

Lilith opened her mouth to say something, and Lucifer listened to the little voice in his head once again.

He caught her mouth with his own swiftly before pulling back, face flushing as he realised what he just did.

That was something only Adam and Lilith was supposed to do with each other.

Lilith blinked, taking time to process before giving her response, “Do that again.”

Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice.

The bark of the aspen tree was lit up by Lucifer’s wings as he pressed his lips to Lilith’s again.

And again.

And again.

Lucifer had never felt so good. He could see why Lilith and Adam like doing this. This felt so good.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

It was hours until Lucifer disentangled himself from Lilith, still not having quite recovered from the experience. Sadly, he could feel the mental tug attached to his halo signifying his siblings wanting an audience with him. The last thing he wanted was to have them come down and see him with Lilith.

The moment he returned to heaven however, he had the distinct feeling that he might have messed up regardless.

Michael was pacing and muttering angrily under his breath, sharp sounds grating Lucifer’s awareness. When the archangel saw Lucifer, his wings physically bristled as he lunged forward and grabbed the Morningstar by the robe.

“You are so very fortunate that God was already growing tired of Lilith’s rebellion!”

“What?”

“Michael,” Lucifer turned to see Azrael landing nearby, “I highly doubt Lucifer knows what he has done, as impulsive as he is.”

“What? What happened,” Lucifer demanded, mantling his wings to make himself look larger as he stared down the other archangels.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what!”

“God decided to give the first man a new wife,” Michaels words cut through Lucifer’s anger and left only shock, “Made from his rib.”

“… what?”

“Yes, I had to tear it out myself,” Michael huffed, Lucifer noticed the dried red still dusting the angels gloves, “Adam tried to flee.”

“…”

“What Michael means,” Azreal shot the other a look, “Is that Adam didn’t take the information well, and saw it fit to attempt avoiding the situation entirely.”

“He was awake?!” Lucifer screeched “By the choir what is wrong with you two?!”

“It was the Creator’s wishes, none of us knew it would bring pain,” Azrael sighed, “However, it would encourage not repeating the situation…”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Michael scoffed, “The Creator ensured Adam wouldn’t remember.”

“It would taint him.”

“It would motivate him.”

“What?”

“Our Creator has decided to take a more… hands on approach in ensuring the situation does not repeat itself,” Azrael looked uncomfortable, “Xe employed the use of divine power to keep Adam and Eve from straying from the grand design.”

Lucifer took a step back.

Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer couldn’t hear over the roar of nothing in his ears.

No.

Nononononono.

Lucifer ran.

He broke into a sprint before diving back down to Earth, landing on the soft grass of Eden he looked around desperately.

“Adam!”

“Yes?”

Lucifer turned around as Adam’s figure came into view from behind a tree, “Adam-”

His eyes were gold.

Lucifer stumbled back as he took in the first man’s appearance, Adam’s eyes were no longer the colour of earth. The familiar dark brown orbs that bore the gold of honey and of leaves in the sun were gone. In their place was the brilliant gold of divinity, of heaven, the same gold of the-

The chain attached to his wrist.

Lucifer lunged forward and grabbed his friends arm, pulling him forward and running a hand along the softly glowing cuff on Adams wrist.

It was definitely the Creator’s doing.

“Adam what have they done to you.”

“Ah, apologies, but have we met before?”

Lucifer’s golden ichor froze as he looked back up to meet that accursed golden gaze, “What?”

“It is just that… you seem familiar with me, but I do not recall ever having met you. I apologize.”

Lucifer stepped back from the first man, “What.”

“Were you present for my creation? That day was such a blur I hardly recall all those present.”

“Adam- Adam look at me,” Lucifer grabbed Adam by the shoulder, staring desperately into those too gold, too inhuman, too holy eyes “Adam. You are my best friend. You remember me don’t you?”

Adam’s eyes flickered for a moment, that familiar beautiful earth brown peeking through for a moment before being swamped by heavenly gold.

“You are an angel; how could I ever be friends with someone of a higher status such as you?”

Lucifer wanted to cry.

The Creator truly was cruel.

“Are you alright, sir?”

Lucifer couldn’t do this.

Lucifer shoved Adam away and ran like a coward, stumbling through the bushes and past trees as he ran away from the puppet wearing his best friends face.

He didn’t even talk like Adam.

The Creator just stripped his best friend of everything that made him… him.

Lucifer collapsed under a willow tree as he sobbed into his arms.

He didn’t move for a long time after that.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

Lilith found him in the dim of night, her eyes sharp and he teeth bared in a rueful grimace even as she took him into his arms.

“We’re not letting them get away with this. Not this time.”

A hot flame of righteous anger sparked in Lucifer’s heart as he held onto Lilith. She was right, this crossed a line.

Lucifer wanted to rush in, to steal Adam away and find a way to break that chain.

Lilith told him to wait, to watch and observe as she would.

“Right now, heaven does not know about our rebellion, if we move too quickly we will both be destroyed.”

She was right, of course she was. Lucifer hated it though.

They had to watch Adam go through the motions of what his life used to be. The way he would no longer wander the garden without reason.

He wouldn’t play with the animals anymore or sit and relax under the sun.

Lucifer almost broke the trunk of a tree when he saw Adam tear out a plant Gabriel considered ‘too imperfect for the garden’ even though Lucifer knew that it was Adams favourite flower.

That flame of anger grew every time that damned shackle glowed and chained Adams will.

It took a little time to figure out, but if there was one thing Lucifer was sure would free Adam and Eve, it was the apples of knowledge.

They had to.

Lucifer and Lilith also watched Eve through everything. She seemed meek through the control of the Creator, but in the few moments the attention of heaven faded and the gold in her eyes let a little bit of reddish brown through, they got to know her.

She was gentle and sweet to the animals but there was a steel in her spine.

She was vibrant and wild as she chased the cheetah’s around the garden or buried her head in a grizzly bears side.

Lucifer grew to love her in a way. As little of her as he could see. But she was the one the Creator paid less attention to, and why would xe? She is supposed to be subservient to Adam.

Lucifer shifted into the form of a snake and curled through the branches of the tree of knowledge as she came into view.

Showtime.

“Eve my dear, may I borrow your attention for but a moment?” Lucifer sing-songed, drawing the girls eye as she stopped at the base of the tree.

“What is it you require of me, snake?” Eve asked, Lucifer watched intently as the telltale hint of red brown filtered into her gaze, this was the shot he needed.

“The fruit of this tree, could you tell me how it tastes to you?”

The woman flinched back as if struck, and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at her response.

“I couldn’t, God said-”

“And have you not wondered why xe demands such things of you? Have you not questioned why xe forbade this?” Lucifer hissed, snapping off an apple and letting it fall to the ground at Eve’s feet, “I know, and that is why I ask this of you.”

Eve’s will fought with Heaven for a moment as she picked up the apple, but she was not gone yet, “God said that if I ate the fruit, I would die.”

“And the Creator lies to you,” blasphemy dripped off of Lucifers tongue as he all but snarled at Eve, the white-hot flame of fury envenoming his words, “To eat the apple is not to die, but to be freed. To have your eyes opened to the truth around you.”

Eve held the apple in her hands, the reddish brown in her eyes traitorously present.

“How do you know I won’t die?”

“Because my dear, I have had my eyes opened long ago. To open them is a freedom the Creator keeps from you on purpose,” Lucifer hissed, “You will not die, of that I can promise.”

Eve bit into the apple, and the chains snapped under the weight of knowledge granted.

#hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #worldbuilding #writing #angst #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #fluff #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x lilith #lilith hazbin hotel #lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel eve #eve hazbin hotel #eve x adam #edenpoly #garden of eden #archangel michael #archangel azrael #god hazbin hotel #apple from the tree of knowledge #the bible #ashes to ashes dust to dust

[aemondsbeloved]

I Would Die For You In Secret [Part 2]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x targaryen!reader, various characters x reader (platonic)

summary: you have avoided Jace ever since the night you had dinner with your family, but you cannot avoid him forever. if you would not go to him and Jace would not go to you, your family would have to fix things in their own way (5.4k)

warning: angst with a happy ending, incest (again reader is Rhaenyra’s daughter and Jace’s sister), self loathing, miscommunication. 

notes: I added some tags for other pairing besides Aemond and the reader because the reader interacts with different characters other than Aemond, but the only romantic pairing is between Aemond and the reader.

[Part 1]

“I thought I might find you here.”

Your fingers gripped the page of your book rather harshly at the voice of your cousin. From your seat in the vacant library, you had thought you had found a piece of solitude, but you were wrong.

“Rhaena” you greeted her, forcing a smile. The look on her face let you know she saw through you. It was not that you did not want to see your family, especially your cousins whom you held dearly, but since the evening Jacaerys had put out your secret, you had hid away.

She walked towards you like she did not wish to startle you. “Your brother has been looking for you. Your presence has been missed, cousin.”

You gulped, turning your head back to your book, not able to look at her. You knew her to mean Lucerys. Even the thought of your sweet little brother could not bring a smile to your face.

“It is best if I spend my time by myself now, Rhaena.”

You could see the frown on her face across from you. She moved to you, grabbing your wrist in a pleading way. “It has been well over a week since you have now hidden yourself away. Please, do not prolong this. Jace—”

“Hates my existence. And as he had not sought me out once it is clear he finds my solitude agreeable.”

“That is not true.” She sounded desperate, wanting to make better of whatever this is. “Your brother loves you as do we all. Please, Baela will talk to him and make him see reason.”

Her declaration for love of you made your heart swell. Rhaena had been a sister to you but Baela’s words to Jace would not fix this.

You went back to your book pretending to read. “She should not trouble herself. Some things cannot be mended.”

After a few moments she had left quietly, not knowing what to say to you. You embraced the solitude again. If it were not for your duties you would never leave these walls.

It had been a few days since Rhaena’s attempt to console you and make you see how she felt. But the truth of the matter was she was the only one to see you.

You had not been as close to Baela as she had grown up as a woman in Driftmark with her grandmother Princess Rhaenys and while she might have been a friend, she had no reason to try to make Jace see your side of this, whatever that meant.

You thanked the Gods silently that Baela and Rhaena’s father, your uncle Daemon, had not visited you. Lucerys might have approved of Daemon and his strong nature but Jace had held him at arm’s length no matter how much he respected him. You avoided him when you could. Though he was not cruel to your family you knew him to be severe. You did not want him to lay into you the shame of your actions, befriending and loving the person who had called your brothers bastards.

You could do without Daemon and while you yearned for your mother to hold you, to tell you to was alright, you knew no such thing was true. If there was someone you had to visit you, it might as well have been your younger brother.

“What do I have to do for you to join us for dinner tonight?”

From the table where you sat in your rooms, you looked up, seeing Lucerys. It had been several days since you saw Rhaena and you had begun to enjoy your new routine. You would go to the library and read, occasionally Aemond would join you when his duties allowed it, and you would spend much time with Helaena, all the while astutely avoiding your family.

You blinked as he stood in the entrance of your rooms. “I enjoy eating in my room now.”

It was a lie he knew as well as you. “It is not the same without you.”

You frowned. “It is only dinner. We will not be together always Lucerys, it is alright.”

He shook his head, deciding on a new tactic. “Jace misses you too. If you only came to dinner tonight everything will be as good as new.”

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know that.” He sounded nearly deseperate and despite how he had been growing as of late you forgot Luke was a boy, not a growing man like Jace was. “It does not matter. Jace will see it as I do, I promise.”

You smiled at his naivety. Your brother had been given to gift of seeing the best in others, no matter how wrong he could be. But you stalled at his words. “What does not matter?” You asked him in a gentle way, the way an older sister would.

He shuffled, looking anxious as though he did not want to say it. His voice was quieter this time he spoke. “You and Prince Aemond. Mother told us to try and heal things when we came here, didn’t she? Jace only is upset because he thinks you betrayed him. You know how he is. He is just too stubborn to come to you but he knows Y/N.”

He knows what? You wanted to ask him but were not sure you wanted the answer. Instead, you looked at your brother with some surprise. “When did you get so astute and wise, brother?”

He smiled, almost looking proud at the compliment. “You are not going to come for dinner, are you?”

You shook your head and he smiled again, a more sorrowful one and left you. Throughout the evening, even when the servants had taken your plates and cutlery away from dinner, you could only think of how your brother who had the largest tensions from Aemond had not cared of the events that had transpired.

The hope it gave you was snuffed out. Perhaps your mother would not hate you but if Jace was angry, then what could be Daemon’s reaction? You did not want to think on it.

The next day was a bright and sunny one. Your dress was light for the warm weather and you were sitting in the Gods Wood, Helaena’s twins enjoying the sun as much as you and their mother did.

“Has your brother spoken to you?”

Her voice was light and airy, not unlike the summer breeze. Helaena was very observant you had learned and was as bright as Aemond in her own way. You enjoyed her company and did not mind that she saw you like an open book because of her kind nature.

“Lucerys came to see me yesterday. Jace avoids me. I have not seen his face in nearly two weeks.”

The sorrow and regret in your voice had Helaena frowning. “What if you went to him?”

You pursed your lips and your fingers combed through the grass by your side, trying to ground yourself. A contemplative silence followed. “I would not know what to say.”

“Be honest with him.”

“I was honest with him. He made it clear how he hates me.”

She tilted her head, half watching her son and daughter chase a bee and giggling near you both. “He said he hated you?”

“No,” you started. “He said I should be ashamed.”

“Why?” She asked just as airly as before.

You grew frustrated, not wanting to admit the obvious. Her name came out in a whine, making you sound like a child. “Helaena.”

She said nothing and you sighed. “He found out that I had formed a friendship with your brother.”

“Aegon?” She asked and even you could tell it was a jest, rolling your eyes so harshly she chuckled.

“I told him that I had grown affections for Aemond.”

It was like this was not a matter that surprised her and she nodded her head. “And you told him this outright?”

Your frowned. “Well, not exactly.”

She hummed, the sound very light as did everything she said. “Prince Jacaerys seems to value honesty. You told him a truth but disguised it, perhaps that is what has made him so cross.”

“If I told him I loved Aemond outright he would have gone mad.” You scoffed, not realizing what you admitted.

When you did you turned to look at her and were surprised at how joyful she seemed. “Why are you so happy?” You asked wearily.

“You love Aemond.” The joy was radiating off of her.

You could not say a word at that. How could you deny it?

“Nothing could be more wonderful in this moment.” Helaena continued.

“Why?” You were curious. Your brother still would not come near you, so how could anything be well enough? Helaena’s happiness had you grasping for an explanation.

Jaehaera had come to hand her mother a fresh picked flower to which Helaena smiled dotingly at before saying nonchalantly, “Summer’s love will mend the bones broken long ago.”

Your furrowed your eyebrows. Helaena had on occasion said things like this, wise in their tone but unknown to your ears. You did not say anything in turn. She would not be able to tell you what she meant, you knew from experience.

As you went on your third week with company only with Helaena and occasionally Rhaena or Lucerys, the latter two trying to urge you to talk to Jace, you had almost grown accustomed to being by yourself. If it was not for the peace that came with Helaena’s company and the joy that came from meeting with Aemond in secret still, you would have felt truly alone.

Just the previous night you had met Aemond in the gardens late at night after many were in bed. He had given you a rose from the garden, a gesture so gentle and kind you had grown flustered. Holding the rose the entire way back to your own rooms, you had laid the flower there on your dresser, not wanting to throw it away ever even if that would be impossible, much like avoiding your entire family.

It was early morning and you had went to the library yet again, putting a book back that you had finished reading. You would meet Aemond there later during the time he did not need to train and would read with him, mostly in silence and occasional glances and soft smiles shared between you both.

Maybe it was the promise of seeing him later on that had you humming a happy tune, almost allowing you to forget your woes in the weeks since Jace had voiced his distaste for you. It was surely why you did not notice the familiar figure in front of your hearth.

“Mother.” Your humming had ceased and you had frozen immediately, your voice a gasp.

When she looked at you, you were not sure what to expect. Anger? Disappointment?

Would she forsake you too?

Her eyes went to the rose near you on the dressed then looked back at you. “How long are you going to avoid Jacaerys?”

Her voice was not unkind, it never was. But despite any gentleness the question cut through you. “I am doing him a favor.”

She looked at you with some sympathy, like she was trying to understand. “How is secluding yourself from your family helping?”

There may have been an accusation there, hidden underneath. “No one wants to see me. Not after—” You cut yourself off, your lips in a tight line and you could not even look at your own mother.

She sighed and you wondered if you looked at her would you have seen her shake her head. “Come here,” she held your arms and embraced you. For a time you felt like a little girl again and while there was no loud sobs, a single tear trailed down your cheek. “Everyone misses you. Our dinners are not the same, you know.”

She pulled back looking at you and this time you could not look away nor could you wipe the tears. “I know your brother hurt you but things cannot go on as they are. How can this family be whole again if our side of the family cannot dine together?”

Another tear blinked down your cheek and this time your mother wiped it away, a sad smile on her face. “Go to him, Y/N. He is so stubborn I do not think he can will himself to go to you.”

She had let you go and looked past your shoulder and then gazed at you once more. “Should I ask who gave you the rose?”

You bit your lip at the tone you might have called teasing. Shaking your head she laughed, like this had pleased her. “Though they are my kin I do not know my brothers enough to call them that. I am grateful that one of my father’s sons is not what he seems to be, at least.” She rubbed your cheek affectionately and turned to go, leaving you in your rooms alone.

After that day you had thought of going to Jace. If your mother did not hate you for loving Aemond, then would he still hate you? But you were not as brave as a dragon should be and could not go to him, not even when Lucerys and Rhaena told you where he would be.

You had been reading the same page in Helaena’s rooms for the better part of ten minutes, to the notice of those around you. It was one of the days Aemond had joined you both, much to your pleasure as well as his niece and nephew who he joined on the floor.

Helaena sat across from you, happily embroidering some bug you could not identify and was clearly adept at ignoring you both if need be.

“Something troubles you.”

Aemond’s statement had you look up from the page you were reading. Him sitting in his black leathers still from training was a stark contrast to his small nephew and niece, full of color and bundling of joy. It made you smile easily. “Why would you think that?”

“Your mind is otherwise occupied, unless you mean to tell me that you have lost your capability to read?”

When you rolled your eyes it was clearly with affection thanks to the smile on your lips, closing your book with finality. Shifting in your seat you turned to face him. “Yes, Aemond, my mind is occupied. It is nothing, do not worry.”

“If you plan to lie to me, do me the favour of being clever about it.”

You scoffed then, shaking your head in some disbelief. “It is nothing.”

“You are thinking about your brother.”

A sigh was the only answer he received. It did not deter him.

“If you are thinking about him this often you should talk to him.”

You thought of a million excuses and things to say. “It is not so simple, no matter what everyone seems to believe.”

Your voice had come out quieter, less stubborn and defensive. His now was of a softer tone. “I know.” He said like he understood. Only he did.

“I… I cannot. There is nothing to say to him that I have not.” It might have been a lie but what were you to tell Jace, that you were sorry? You were not sure you were if that meant apologizing for finding a friend and love in Aemond. “I would have told him. I had not even told you when he asked. How could I have told him?”

Aemond did not need it explained, he only nodded and the look he gave you, almost like the devotion you sometimes glimpsed on Daemon as he looked at your mother, had you calming down.

“Everything will be alright.” It was a promise and you did not know how it could be true. Even if this was his way of placating you, you would take it.

It was well into the third week, truly nearly a month, that you had been avoiding everyone in your family. Your mother had not visited you again, clearly waiting for you to go to Jace, while Lucerys and Rhaena only occasionally came to you now.

You had come to realize that no one would look for you in the Sept. It was a true place of solitude and while you were not as devout as some like the Queen, prayer was a way to speak to those who no longer could guide you.

This was why as you knelt in front of the candles you had lit you thought of Laenor, the man you called father and had sat you on his lap as a little girl, telling you the histories of your family. You even thought of Ser Harwin, the man who gave you and your brothers your looks and had died when you were very young. You could still recall his strong arms picking you up with ease very young and spinning you around your mothers apartments while you made giddy laughter.

You wondered what they would have you do now. Maybe Ser Harwin would have been braver and gone to Jace already but what of Laenor? You thought he might have told you the same your mother had alluded to. Jace loved you and could not hate you forever.

You cherished your brother and your affections for Aemond only grew by the day. Was it so terrible to want both the forgiveness of your brother and to openly share your affections with Aemond? One did not seem to be able to exist without forfeiting the other.

The delicate steps broke your thoughts and had you turning around only to see Queen Alicent in her lavish green dress and hair clipped back, the picture of elegance and with a surprisingly kind expression directed towards you.

You went to get up and curtsey but she only shook your head. As she did not want you to address her formally, something that perplexed you, you were frozen unsure how to move on.

She glanced around the Sept and looked back at you with unexpected warmth. Walking to you, she stood besides you at the altar of the Sept. “I was a young girl when my mother died. I would come to the Sept and pray.” You looked up at her and she smiled. “I did not care that much for praying, I must admit. But it was a way to be with her, I found. And in the quiet of the Sept no one would bother me.”

An expression of recognition crossed your face again. “I have grown appreciative of the solace I can find here.”

She hummed, a light and agreeable sound, but you found yourself smiling as you looked down, thinking of Aemond and the same sound he made. You wondered if it was his mother he got this from.

In a moment just as quick you forced the smile away and looked back up at her, hoping she had not noticed. You doubted the Queen would appreciate any affections you held for Aemond, the kindness she gave you or not. You could still remember the accusation of you siblings illegitimacy.

“At least this way I can be with my father, if only for a short time.”

She looked at you with recognition, knowing you might have meant your true father, Ser Harwin, that marked you as a bastard or the man who raised you, Ser Laenor. You looked back at her with meaning. It could have been Laenor. It could have been Harwin. It did not matter. You prayed to them both.

She did not look at you with hatred at the silent admission. Alicent only looked at you with thought.

“Helaena mentioned that you have seemed… down so to speak. Our matters in this family are tender but your mother and I are of the mind it may yet be fixed. If something has happened, you may come to me if you need to.”

Her words were motherly and you looked at her with gratitude. You had come to know her younger son personally but even Helaena’s bugs would have known the reputation Aegon held. The worry in her eyes made you think it was her elder son she feared had done something.

“You need not worry, your Grace. It is only my brothers who have made me downcast as of late. It is nothing you should worry about.”

The look on her face urged you to continue and you turned back to the alter of the Sept, wishing to pray more, if only to get more solitude.

“Having brothers can be difficult. They devote themselves to protecting you but forget swords are not the only weapons, their words impacting more blows than a sword could ever do. They do not know they are being cruel but are anyways.”

To your shock, she had joined you as she knelt at the altar and rubbed your arm gently, as though she understood. She folded by own hands and faced the altar like you were and was quiet.

Nothing more could be said. You both knew the truth that sometimes men were needlessly cruel when pride was injured.

Jace was not cruel in nature but Aegon was.

On your way to Helaena’s chambers to read with her in the quiet as she embroidered, you had run into the last person you wished to see.

“Niece,” Aegon strided up besides you, his voice sickeningly sweet.

You did not hide the roll of your eyes, already annoyed with him. Your growing adoration of Helaena from the past few months only made you reproach her brother-husband more. Someone as sweet and good natured as Helaena should not be landed with someone as vulgar and malicious as Aegon.

You quickened your pace and remained silent, treating him like air, but that did not discourage him.

“I had heard a strange rumor.”

Silence.

“You and your brothers are attached to the hip, though it seems my dear nephew cannot stand the sight of you.”

You stopped, turning to him at once, your face stony and dangerous. He only gleamed with some kind of immature twisted joy.

“You have not changed since we were children, uncle, always trying to make a poor timed joke even though you are the butt of every joke in this family.”

For a moment he looked surprised at your wit, not expecting it. It must have been the shock of it that made him laugh like you amused him.

“You are delightful, are you not?”

You tired of him and scowled, turning away from him and continuing your quick pace. To your disappointment he was not far behind.

“I can see why my brother likes you so much. You are as humorless as he is and so very serious.”

You faltered for a moment, stalling before shaking your head, moving onwards.

How did he know?

“You do not know what you are talking about. It must be the wine, I imagine.”

No matter how hostile you were he did not seem to mind, appearing to be happier the more off guard you became.

“Oh, but I think I do. People do talk, you know.”

You could hear just how much he was enjoying this but there was not a possibility of you walking faster, lest you trip over your skirts.

“You believe such gossip?” Your voice was cutting and to your annoyance, he laughed.

“It has been two weeks since you have been near your brother and everyone knows why.”

You were a few mere paces away from Helaena’s door but instead of ignoring him and leaving him in the hall, you could not. If you were a better daughter you would have ignored such a statement and kept peace like your mother wished, but maybe you were not a good daughter at all. Just as you were a terrible sister to Jace and even Luke as you had secluded yourself from them both.

“If you have something to say, Uncle, speak it plainly. I tire of your poor excuses for jests.”

Then something lit up in him, enjoying every minute. This is where he would be cruel as was Aegon’s way, enjoying it as he made a game of it.

“Jace has always defended everyone in his family, has he not? Rhaena and Baela. Lucerys. You. Though, I suppose he does not wish to defend you anymore.”

You heaved, growing irriateed. “I said speak it plainly, Aegon. If you speak in one more riddle I will—”

“What?” He mocked you, faking sympathy. “Will you go to your brother? You think he would fight for your honor and what the whole castle alludes to? Why would he when he thinks you have no honor, no shame?”

You were rigid with anger and emotions that you had been pushing back to a hidden part of yourself for weeks.

“It must be devastating when even your bastard brother does not even care about you anymore.”

Your lack of control may have been lacking and that it what led you to where you were now. Your hands came in front of you before you understood what you were doing and pushed him hard, sending him to the ground.

It felt good for a moment but the shame crept in when you looked up seeing who else but Prince Daemon across the hall. You cursed under your breath, making Aegon snicker beneath you and turned to the other side of the hall where Daemon was not, only to see Jace and Baela standing there, both of them shocked.

You had a few options: go to Helaena’s rooms near you and risk them all coming in to confront you for everything you had done or turn and run away like a coward.

The tears welling up in your eyes thinking of it must have been noticed as Aegon was thoroughly amused and you looked across the long hallway seeing your brother for the first time in a long time.

You realized he was quite shocked, Baela almost looking pleased, though you knew that was to be Aegon on the ground as she had for many years wanted to lay into him as you just had.

You could not bear looking at him as you waited for the rage and anger you had remembered from a month ago to show. It was all you could do but run away in the opposite direction, moving so quickly you got past Daemon. When you turned a corner you did not see Jace any longer but Daemon had followed, grabbing your arm.  

“Dragons do not run away, that is the actions of sheep. You are no sheep, Princess.”

Why did everyone in your family have to be brave, fearless, wild, and so chaotic? Why did it matter if you were not?

“Dragons can burn too, Uncle. Leave me be.”

You had never been so bold around Daemon and he may have been as surprised as you were, his eyebrows raised. “Why did you push Aegon down?”

You tired of the questions. “Because he is a cunt who does not know when to stop running his mouth.”

The dry chuckle might have been of amusement but his questions would not cease. “What did he say, Y/N?”

“It does not matter.”

“You dodge everyone’s presence and now you avoid a question. Tell me, now. What did Prince Aegon say?”

“He called Jace a bastard, alright? And pray tell, what was I supposed to do?” You cried your outburst. “Should I have thanked him, agreed with him?”

“What else did he say?”

Why could nothing ever go your way? When did everything become so terrible?

“Only what the whole castle knows. That I am a Princess with no honor nor care for my family just as everyone believes.”

“That is not true.”

You tore your arm from his grip, now looking more like a Targaryen, growing in fury. “How many times do I have to tell people to leave me be? I gave Jace what he wanted! I have not bothered him nor have I made him look at me since I cause so much shame to him. I want to be alone.”

Daemon could say nothing as you stormed away, quickly finding yourself in a secluded part of the castle where no one could find you. You had no clue how much time had past as you only stared far ahead at the gardens from your place high in the castle.

“Aemond told me I would find you here.”

The voice you had not heard in many weeks had you still yourself. You stared ahead, not glancing at him even as his footsteps grew closer.

“Have things gotten so horrid that you must go to the person you loathe to find me?”

Your words came out thick, the emotions running higher than they had in quite some time. From where you sat on a stone bench Jace had moved froward, sitting next to you.

“I do not loathe Aemond.”

You laughed humorlessly. “Yes and Aegon is known for his sobriety.”

“I used to dislike him. He made it difficult not to.”

“That is fair enough.” You could not and would not look at him even as he looked at you.

He sighed, moving closer so he was not at the edge of the stone bench. “After you left he came from Princess Helaena’s apartments after hearing the commotion. He was worried as was Daemon.”

You furrowed your brows, more confused than ever. “They agreed that I should talk to you. Aemond was right, it had been too long since that night.”

A lump in your throat formed to little surprise to yourself. “Never did I think I would hear you say that Aemond was right about something. Much less Daemon and Aemond agreeing on something.”

He chuckled and then you finally looked at him. “How much I like Aemond does not matter, not when we all care about you. I am sorry, sister. It took me too long to see it this way. Luke was right, of course. Baela had not let me forget how right he was naturally.”

“Lucerys?” You questioned.

“Weeks ago he told me if I was as brave as I thought myself I would go and talk to you. He said it did not matter and that I was stubborn. He has refused to eat with me now until I fixed this. Not to mention any time we train now he is none too gentle.”

You smiled at that, knowing that in the many months since you had returned to the Red Keep Lucerys had been growing in height. He even is at Rhaena’s height now where she once towered above him.

“He told me weeks ago that if I came to dinner everything would have been fixed. Would it have?”

Your voice showed your insecurities. Was everything even okay now?

“Yes,” he said and it was genuine. “It would have but I should never had said those things to you and I am sorry, Y/N. I never thought you would care for someone like Aemond in such a way, especially after the dinner with our entire family the first night we came back.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted. “But he is more than his cutting words, I swear Jace. You just don’t know him as I do.”

“I know,” he said, nodding. “I think Prince Aemond can be cruel and has no issue with it but if i thought he was heartless once I may have been wrong. He is good to you and mother says that he is devoted to his own sister and mother. These months when I have been ignoring you like a coward he was there for you, so yes, I suppose you are right that there may be more to him than his hatred for some, even myself.”

As tears welled in your eyes, more out of gratitude as unexpected as it was, you grab Jace’s hand that laid on the stone bench between you both, smiling at him in hopes he could see how much it meant to you. He looked back at you smiling at you in apology almost.

“Do you forgive me, then?” You asked after a moment.

“There is nothing to forgive.” Came his instant reply.

Not being able to stop yourself you moved with great speed to embrace him, blinking the tears away. When your brother hugged you back, like he had not done in a long time, you thought that everything might be alright.

In the late afternoon of that day, the summer air had turned to autumnal breeze but with the change of seasons at least you had your brother back and your peace.

+

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[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {10}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: NSFW (actually, just make the same note for the next few chapters)... Thank you for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting. I love to see it all! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

<.>.<.> Nesta <.>.<.>

His kiss was like nothing I have ever experienced.

I lie alone in my bed, wishing he was here with me. I long for his mouth on mine, long for that mouth of his to explore every inch of the bare skin that is rolling beneath my sheets, lonely with need. 

He confessed his love for me. All of my being wanted to reciprocate the feeling, but I just couldn’t. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him. I know it was wrong but I have no regrets. If I am to be bound to Tomas for the rest of my life, I am glad that I felt what it was like to be completely in love, completely enveloped in a kiss if only for a second.

It is a second I will never forget, a second I will never take for granted. 

His lips were softer than I had imagined they would be. It was a pleasant surprise, the gentleness of this man that did not radiate gentleness whatsoever. He held me as if our lives depended on it, and for a moment, I swore they did. 

The house is quiet; there’s nothing but the cackling of the fire to distract me. Even the cackling cannot distract me enough from imagining his roaming hands. 

Unable to fall asleep, I let my mind wander. 

I imagine him in bed right next to me, his body bare and intertwined with mine. I imagine his lips dancing across my skin, imagine his hands wandering, exploring, desperate with need.

I imagine his cock, long and thick, thrusting into me again and again and again. I’ve seen its outline, although I have pretended I haven’t, but I know that it does not compare to the real thing, released and wielded. 

I can only imagine the pleasure he could endow with such a weapon. 

Pretending my fingers are that weapon, I plunge them inside of myself again and again. I go deep, quickly, imagining the hardness of his body sliding against every inch of my soft curves. Finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, I cry out, not caring that the help could possibly hear. 

I hate that we stopped after a measly kiss. A kiss that I started, a kiss that should have never been, a kiss that I cannot help but fixate on, obsess over. 

For the first time, I’ve felt wanted. I felt loved, cared for, cherished. I can only imagine what it would feel like if things had escalated, if the help was not right outside, wandering through my husband's house. If we were alone, I would have let him take me. I would have let him have all of me. 

Unsure of what that says about me, I continue to live out my fantasy. With every fictitious thrust that Cassian grants me, I come alive. Tears fill my eyes and even I pity myself for the pathetic nature of my situation, but I push that feeling aside and continue to find pleasure, dwelling in the sensation rising up inside of me. 

It’s his name I cry out when I find release. 

When my body stops shaking, when my chest stops heaving, I close my eyes and it is his smiling face that I see.

This is absurd.

I cry, shamelessly, surrounded by flickering candles that are slowly dwindling to their deaths. Sorrow and longing and an odd sense of jealousy flood my body. I am jealous of every woman who has married for love, who had the opportunity to avoid being in a marriage of convenience. After the jealousy comes the loathing.

I hate Tomas.

I hate him as a husband and as a man. I rue the day that I must give him an heir, a child that makes us a family, that shackles me to him further. I hate how he treats me, how he orders me around like I am one of the servants, how he takes out his anger and bitterness on every inch of my skin. I hate how he touches me in bed, how he makes me feel dirty after every time I am forced to carry out my marital duties. 

Cassian is twice the man that Tomas will ever be. I am jealous of the woman who will take his hand in marriage, who will become the mother of his children, who will run his household alongside him in love and dignity.

I am envious that it will not be me.

It cannot be.

I have already been spoken for, claimed by the devil himself. 

Opening my eyes, I stare at the ceiling as my sobs have grown to silent tears streaming down the sides of my face, absorbing into my feathery pillow. Candlelight dances along the ceiling, grounding me. 

I should be his.

And he should be mine.

The truth that is so painfully obvious occurs to me and I do not deny it any longer. I stopped denying it the moment that I kissed him. I love him. 

I am in love with him.

A gentleman, a man who is not my husband, a man who looks at me as if I am the only woman in all of existence.

Rising out of bed, I wipe my eyes and dress quickly in a pair of slacks and a shirt I keep for riding when Tomas is out of town. After donning my boots and cloak, I pin up my hair and sneak quietly into the hallway and out of the manor, toward the stables. 

I, Lady Nesta Mandray, deserve to be loved, too. 

________________________________

<.>.<.> Cassian <.>.<.>

The whiskey isn’t cutting it tonight. 

I’m on my second glass at the gentleman’s club, but I cannot feel a thing. Nothing that’s real, anyway. I can still feel every touch of her hands on my chest, of her lips on mine, and it is torturous. The image, the feeling, the utter sensation is branded in my memory. I’m convinced that nothing will ever compare to that fleeting moment. 

Fuck.

The things I would have done to her if we were anywhere else but in the home of her husband. Husband. She’s married. It’s a fact that I’ve always known but have never fully accepted, and now that’s coming back to bite me in the ass. 

I took it too far. She was the one that kissed me but I sure as hell didn’t deny her. I would never. I’m incapable. She could ask anything of me and I would do it with no hesitation. I’m in too deep and I simply don’t give a damn. 

It was a perfect moment. I have no regrets. The only regret that I have is that there simply was not enough time. There was not enough time for me to truly show her what she means to me. There was not enough time to lay her down, strip her bare, and worship every inch of her beautiful skin. I meant what I had said, what I had confessed. I am in love with this woman.

I drain what’s left in my glass. 

The empty glass haunts me as I slide it across the bartop and hop off my stool. I hear the echoes of goodbyes behind me but I ignore them all, unable to fully hear their farewells. My mind is occupied. 

I return home the same way I came: meandering beneath the famous starlight. The stars seem dimmer tonight as if they’re mourning alongside me. 

I’m selfish. There is no reason for me to mourn. You cannot mourn for something you never had. 

I have no idea how much time has passed when I make it to my townhouse. The lantern by the door is still burning as I open it up and slump inside only to be greeted by the silence of an empty house. At this hour, I have no doubt that my butler and the handful of maids that keep my house in a state of perfection are sleeping soundly in their beds. At least, I hope they are. They work hard enough as it is. 

After locking the door and tiptoeing across the foyer, I find a lamp to light and carry it up the stairs. 

The space has never felt so big. 

After walking past the sitting room and the study, I find my bedroom at the end of the corridor and kick off my boots as I walk inside.

The shadow of a figure sitting on my bed shifts, and I nearly drop the candle in my hand and wake up every servant in this household when I curse.

Loudly. 

“I’m sorry,” the figure breathes, and the tone of her voice instantly calms me.

I hold up the candle and see her watching me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “Nesta.” “I’m sorry,” she says, and it looks like she’s about to panic. “I…I don’t know what I’m doing here.” She jumps off my mattress and starts pacing. “I was just…I was in bed, thinking about you and before I knew what I was doing, I was here.”

In bed.

Thinking about me.

I don’t give a damn what else she says. That’s enough.

“I should go.”

I close my bedroom door. “How did you get in here?”

Nesta opens her mouth, then closes it, then she huffs a laugh. “I…am no saint. I learned how to scale a wall pretty young.”

The image of her scaling a wall makes me laugh. Then I realize that she’s wearing a shirt and trousers beneath her cloak, the fabric hugging her curves. I swallow as her words settle in. “No one knows you’re here?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“And you’re here because…?”

She shrugs, shamelessly. “I had to see you.”

I take a moment to reply, careful to be certain that I heard her correctly. “Earlier, you said—”

“I love you,” she says, and her words are so quiet that I have to halt my breathing to hear each word clearly. Her eyes shine in the dim light. “I had to let you know. I couldn’t live without you knowing. And I am sorry that I am here, being selfish, but I love you, Cassian. Even if this can never be.” 

The words rush out of her and I cannot stop myself from moving towards her. I set the candle down on my dresser as I pass it and before I can collect my thoughts, I’m standing in front of her, looking down into her eyes. The room falls into silence and I have to convince myself that she’s really here, in front of me. 

When it’s clear that she is, I kiss her.

Our bodies press up against one another as I grab her by the waist and draw her close to me. She doesn’t hesitate, her tongue brushing along mine.  

“You taste like whiskey,” she says, breath warm against my lips. “Are you drunk?”

“Do I seem drunk?” I tease, cradling her face in my hands.

“No,” she says, suppressing a smile. 

“I tried to be and failed,” I confess, brushing my thumbs along her smooth ivory skin. My own seem so dark in comparison. It’s a welcome contrast. 

“I am glad you are not,” she says, leaning into my touch.

She kisses me slowly, savoring every passing second. I am the one to pull back this time.

“This is inappropriate.”

“Wholly,” she agrees, sliding her hands up my chest. “To say the least.”

I swallow, stilling her hands. “There is no going back.”

As much as it pains me, I feel the need to warn her. If we continue, I will not be able to stop, and if we go through with this, things will never be the way they once were. Our words will be more than words. They will become something greater. 

Her eyes do not waver. “I do not want to go back. I want to know what it is like to make love to you. Even if it is only once.”

The thought of doing it once and never again is agonizing.

The thought of not having her at all is so much worse. 

When I kiss her this time, there is no going back.

I lift her up, gripping her backside as her legs quickly and comfortably wrap around my body. Our mouths are a battle of teeth and tongue, clashing together, unable to get close enough. Forgetting about every reason that we shouldn’t, every obstacle we are about to face, I carry Lady Nesta Mandray to my bed and lay her down. 

#nessian #nesta #cassian #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #19th century au #regency au

[imaginesbymonika]

Crush

Part 3 out of ???

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Plot: There is nothing quite like realizing you're in love with your best friend when it's too late right?

Warnings: mentions of hopsitals, someone being in a coma, things getting smashed, nurse being mean to a traumatized Spencer

Spencer watches how people enter and leave Y/N's room, he wants to say something to Derek but chooses not to. "Spencer?", Derek stands up, his voice is smooth and such a strange contrast to his state of mind:" Do you want anything from the vending machine?" But the only response he receives is a soft headshake. Derek lets out a sigh, gosh, how much he loathes hospitals.

Spencer watches him leave and stands up as well. He takes a deep breath and steps through the door into the room. He is met with a suffocating stillness, that only gets disturbed by the steady beepings of the machines surrounding Y/N. This wasn't supposed to fucking happen, Spencer had this whole plan of asking her out on a date, and now… now he wasn't even sure if he would ever be able to speak to her again. Derek, who joins him a few minutes later pushes a water bottle into his hands:" I spoke to her doctor." Spencer who seems to get snapped out of his thoughts instantly turns his head:" What did he say?"

There is an underlying manner to him that makes it appear as if Derek is speaking to a small child that has lost their parents in a big supermarket. Over the years Spencer has turned colder, his character has grown stronger and he was known for his uncompromising way of handling certain things.

However, right now, he seemed breakable and scared… and maybe he was. Derek clears his throat:" Well, they say her vitals are stable. Which is a good thing. But, the bullet came pretty close to her-.", he pauses and looks down at his hands, which are holding a pack of yellow M&M's:" They aren't sure if she is going to wake up."

Spencer runs a hand down his face before his eyes fall back on Y/N. If he didn't know any better, he would say that she is peacefully sleeping. He feels sick. "He said, that if she doesn't regain consciousness in the next 72 hours, she is most likely not-. Holy shit!" Spencer's water bottle slams against one of the windows, the glass vibrates but doesn't break. "Jesus."

"Are you mental?!", a nurse emerges from behind a long white curtain and quickly shoves the brown-haired man towards the exit:" I am so sorry, but you have to leave now! This behavior is unac- you could have hit one of the computers!" But Spencer isn't moving. Not one single inch towards any direction:" I am not going to leave!" His voice is suddenly much deeper, which clearly aggravates the woman in front of him. " You'd have to kill me first!"

#mgg #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #mgg x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer #reid angst #criminal minds angst #angst #Spotify

[nanomooselet]

Little but Fierce III

I love Meryl so much. Imma talk about all the ways she's terrible.

First watching the show, I had her clocked pretty much from the moment she opened her mouth and the moment she first appeared on the screen.

Oh Lord. This child is insufferable.

She's twenty-three, just out of college, from a sheltered background, and determined to solve all the world's problems, but she'd have a much easier time of it if she weren't such a scold. She's prissy. She's judgemental. Because nothing in the world lives up to her standards, she's going to shout at it until it does. It's endearing now because she's so little and cute, but she will encounter someone unwilling to put up with it sooner or later, and she had better hope she survives that encounter to learn from it.

Reminder that her first appearance in the manga is striding onto the panel like a queen and then whipping out a megaphone to announce she's from the insurance society, like any of the people she's talking to have any reason to care. She's, uh. She's a real woman of conviction.

What makes this Meryl seem so young is that she still has a lot of faith in the rules, and that the way things should be is indeed the way they are. Why wouldn't she? Her family is wealthy, she just got out of school and this is her dream job. Her whole life so far has kept her cushioned from pain and consequences, as well what exists on the edge of society - violence, poverty, corruption - as well as the edges of her own reality - the truth about the Plants, the existential terror of a being like Knives, who so virulently hates her species and has the power to crush them at will, for any reason, at any time. And of a being like Vash, whose power is even greater, but whose appearance is so purposefully soft.

That dude she's yelling in the face of could vaporise the planet they're standing on, if he felt like it. He would never, but that doesn't change having that capacity, or that there are individuals who will do anything to obtain control of his power.

What makes Meryl such a fantastic character despite these flaws is that upon encountering proof of her ignorance, she doesn't double down. She's surprised, and often scared, but primarily she's saddened, or even outraged. Why is the world this way? What can she do about it? What action can she take?

That's the perfect trait for a journalist, and I also think the reason that Vash likes her - and Roberto, too. It's why both of them are determined to protect her, and Roberto comes to adopt (or perhaps reclaim) a little righteousness by her example.

She doesn't belong on No Man's Land, but then none of them do. No one wanted to be here. Nevertheless they are here.

What can they do together to make it a kinder world?

Also, one more thing.

There's an argument for how hard it is write female characters that the audience won't instantly loathe. It's called the Galbrush Problem, after a theoretical genderbend of Guybrush Threepwood from the Monkey Island series. They're point-and-click adventure games, and they're very silly - Guybrush's entire backstory, as far as we learn, is that he washed up on a beach in the Caribbean as a teenager with the burning ambition to be a pirate and no practical skills in the field whatsoever.

Sample dialogue:

Elaine: Ugh, let's face it, LeChuck! You're an evil, foul-smelling, vile, codependent villain, and that's just not what I'm looking for in a romantic relationship right now! LeChuck: Darn yer riddles, ye saucy female! What do ye mean?!

They're engaged in a high stakes sea battle at the time. Elaine is defending the port she governs from LeChuck's skeleton pirate crew. (Hauntingly realistic reaction to a woman's unambiguous rejection from LeChuck, though.)

Anyway the Galbrush Problem suggests that a Galbrush version of these games would come across as offensive, because Guybrush is a comedic protagonist. He's subjected to slapstick, mocked, rendered the butt of jokes. He says and does absolutely ridiculous things. Who'd enjoy a woman being a victim of such humiliation?

I hate the Galbrush Problem as an argument.

Because Guybrush might be hard to take seriously, but he's still loveable - he's quick-witted, charming, and his many failures combined with his unwillingness to let them ever get him down for long actually make him a little inspiring. And we don't just watch him, we embody him - we relate to him. His absurd challenges are ours to overcome and his cracking wise in the face of craziness is something we sort of wish we could do. We'll all look a bit ridiculous at least some of the time. That's not something gender specific.

It's not a problem to write a woman being goofy. Not unless you present that as her only trait, or her as the only woman, or failure as the only outcome of her actions. Meryl completely explodes the Galbrush problem by being hilarious - she and Vash get to play comedic partners pretty frequently early on and it's always great, and her stupid sibling fights with Wolfwood are splendid. It doesn't make her offensive. She's fun! We need levity! That tomas is hauling around a bunch of fricking coffins!

The wonder of Trigun as a story is that everyone in it is so gloriously, painfully human, even the ones who pretend not to be. Is there really something offensive about affording women that courtesy too? Really?

Maybe I get too pissy about it, I don't know, but I've been a fandom cryptid for some twenty years, and was once determined to enter a profession where there was straight up a conspiracy to prevent women being protagonists, or when they are protagonists, having partners or lovers, because it meant they were less appealing and available.

Lookit this silly marshmallow. What about her is unappealing? What about her is offensive? I mean, apart from the fact that at this rate she's going to give that poor man a heart attack.

Part I

Part II

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #tristampparty #meta: little but fierce #meryl stryfe #so that turned into a rant #*ahem* #madam do cease bothering the nice nuclear bomb #or don't actually i think he's into it

[reality-liver-n0]

Big Boy post, this time on Revy

I guess this will cover the basics of Revy as a character and the fundamentals of understanding her.

First off, her nickname is not “Two Hands.” It’s “Two Hand.” Which I barely learned myself, I think the anime uses Two Hands which is the source for the added s. But at least in the manga and by Hiroe himself she’s “Two Hand.” This name originated from a character in a novel he read, “Run” by Douglas E. Winter. (I recently bought it like a fool so I’ll try and connect the character to Revy when it arrives). But I think the English dub makes the mistake of Two Hands which caused the confusion. I guess in the sub version it’s correct.

Revy is a Chinese American. But she is ethnically full Chinese. The American is just her nationality. Hiroe confirms this in an interview where he states Revy is a minority, her physical appearance is based on Mangoloid features rather than Caucasian. He also states that she faces a lot of discrimination in life.

Which is why I think I figured out why Revy in the anime as a kid has black hair when she shoots her father. She dyed her hair burgundy to look less Chinese. Think about it. If she is facing a lot of police brutality in Chinatown, NYC, and her own father beats her she would want to remove herself as far from that demographic as possible. This is why she doesn’t know any Mandarin and chose to not directly align with Chang’s triad. Also she wore hoop earrings as a kid too, at least in the anime.

There is no way she’d want to be seen first by her race. As she said, all the cops saw was a “little chink bitch.” She absolutely loathes to be viewed by her appearance rather than skill or personality.

This may link to her exposed clothing style. Not only is it practical for movement, which is all she does in combat, but it prevents her from overheating. But the most important factor is that she shows a lot of skin; exposing her arms, legs and stomach. Therefore, her athletic build is on display. And the implication of it is clear. She is proud of her body, she will kill you, and it does not matter what she’s wearing. On a level it may be a subconscious decision of the aftermath of her rape. The number one thing the victim is blamed for is what they’re wearing, or rather the lack of clothes, which must obviously signify they wanted it. This is below the lowest bar you can go in blaming victims. Unfortunately, it’s likely that Revy in hopes of getting a reaction or letting it slip, told her dad about what happened.

And what would he say? Something about dressing like a slut or whore if I had to bet.

So, by her current attire, Revy is saying the exact opposite, she’s rebelling against that idea. Or at least mocking the idea that less clothing makes a woman weaker/vulnerable.

Also, she wears the same boots as Dutch. They don’t share the same belt but Revy’s matches the boots: both U.S. military. I find it cute that she could’ve had any other boots but chose to match him. She really does look up to him, and he’s basically her only father figure. It’s heavily implied that he came up with her nickname; Two Hand. Since Benny says that Dutch is good at creating nicknames and right when Rock joined, he made one up for him.

Now I will cover the basic ground for Revy’s personality.

Anger: Yeah, obviously this is at the top of the list. It’s the most obvious to new black lagoon fans; how many times does she yell and curse? But I would argue that this is the emotion she’s most familiar with, not what defines her character. This is a defense mechanism for when she feels threatened. Calm down two men showcases this the best. When she can’t talk down to Rock she gets pissed and tries to kill him. When he pulls the gun away, she punches him, and she sounds like a kid when she yells at him. She is scared and confused on how anger is not making him stop. After all, it’s what stopped her dad and everyone else who got on her bad side.

I will say that the anime focuses on this and makes it a larger trait of her character than the manga. But she does use humor as her last defense mechanism. Again, in calm down two men when she obviously can’t shoot away Rock or scare him with anger in the manga she says, “Screw you. You’re way more out there. Gump. Dork. Fool-in-a-suuuuit.”

This is something I’ve only recently discovered. Due to only watching the anime I missed a lot of differences that the manga makes. Revy in the latest chapters actually does expertly use humor to deescalate things. Specifically, between Le Majeur and Eda where she insists they settle their tempers through drinks instead of a gunfight.

Another one is with Roberta’s Blood Trail when they meet the addict. Revy plays along with his conspiracy theories, which gets them inside and talking to him. She does threaten him but in a tactful way of offering him much pure product if he complies.

There are other moments too where she uses it, the documents for Chang, some interactions with Fabiola, Japan, etc. So, it is a natural progression of her learning how to use her strengths and her own use of wordplay alike Rock.

And I would argue that Revy is as smart as Rock. Not academically of course but she matches his wit by her street smarts and gut feeling. A prime example in Roberta’s blood trail where she purposely knocks a bottle over to start the gunfight. They save Fabiola and she remarks that she knows Fabiola has never shot before. Just by shaking her hand and her unsteadiness getting out of the car, she knows that Fabiola got frazzled up. She actually offers a lot of advice with Fabiola and Garcia.

Also, with the Feng arc she uses a soda to cause an enemy’s gun to jam. Knowing that it will soak up in the metal and prevent it from firing. She also manipulates him by playing cat and mouse. She openly mocks him by saying his brother’s last words were for the “devil to ream him out on ass fucking street in hell.” So yeah, she just leads him straight to a firing squad then ducks as he gets shot to death. She’s very aware of how to lead a team as well.

In Roberta’s blood trail she does it with Shenhua, Sawyer and Lotton. She openly yells at Shenhua for trying to kill Roberta, since it’s a death sentence. They would’ve gotten the Americans if Hotel Moscow didn’t step in.

Also, Revy is very well connected to the criminals of Roanapur. She has a snitch on hand, a drug addict that she supposedly supplies, knows one of Hotel Moscow’s men, speaks openly to one of Abrego’s men, etc. She is aware that having a lot of connections is a good thing, so no doubt that she checks up on her contacts or knows a lot of the regulars at the Yellow Flag.

Surprisingly there are moments where she predicts how a party will move/think. A few times she does it with Hotel Moscow, the vampire twins, escape routes in the city that someone can or will take, and the deserted meetup with Chang’s clients, Shenhua and the Irish driver.

I’ll try to update this later as much as possible. It’s just hard due to the manga being digital for the later volumes so it takes longer to go through each page to find references.

#black lagoon #revy #big boy post #analysis

[spiegelgestalt]

Have you ever asked yourself - what does it do to the damsel if they are saved?

So re:zero has one of the most interesting explorations of the prince-who-saves-the- damsel-in-distress trope this side of Utena. And it's breaking my brain.

You see like Utena re zero begins with a princley character who saves our protagonist who his so touched by this encounter that he vows to become a prince himself. (And was that really such a good idea....?)

Spoilers under the cut

Emilia saves Subaru. He lies there, beaten up by thugs, completely at his wits end, despairing about the world and in comes Emilia who not only chases the thugs away but heals Subaru and doesn't want anything in return for her troubles. And he can't stand it. And so he offers help. His reasons are the following:

Narrative conventions dictate that the summoned person is the protagonist and hero while the cute girl who summoned him is the damsel. In a more progressive text she also gets to do some stuff to show that she isn't useless only to cutely fail and be saved again. Isekai protagonists don't get saved

He's really grateful and he's ashamed that he has troubled her and he wants to.pay her back (and how is he supposed to do that if he isn't the pretty girl who pays with sex! And he has nothing else to offer...)

He sees himself in her. He sees a genuinely good person who's a bit awkward but who means well and who will be crushed if no one's taking care of her (and maybe just maybe he wishes someone could take care of him...)

Subaru objectifies Emilia in two ways: as the shining hero who can do no wrong. She is from now on the glorious person who saved him. And at the same time he never wants her to be this hero again. Because than she might get hurt. Because than she might decide she won't need him anymore. Emilia has to be the damsel because that's his way to.make sure that she never can leave him. The man provides and the woman smiles and needs. (Subject and object)

And if this was all there was re:zero wouldn't be different from your typical isekai story. But as the story goes on some cracks start to show, some questions become louder and louder: isn't Emilia far more suited to the knight role? She is far stronger than him... Why does Emilia always remember Subarus smiling face when she thinks about what he does for her, why does she seem miserable when she hears that everything has been taken care of for her, why does she turn Subaru away again and again and tells him he is hurt and he must promise to wait for her...and how can Subaru be a good knight if he wishes for his beloved to be in danger only to prove himself. Isn't that kind of fucked up?

And you notice two things: As Subaru damsels Emilia, Emilia damsels Subaru. She's looking back. Because from her perspective Subaru came out of nowhere and saved her without any reason. And she can't stand it. It makes her feel terrible (see reason 2 +3 from Subaru) So she tries to protect him back, which he can't stand etc. Etc.

AND this game of hot potato who's supposed to be the damsel in distress becomes even more complicated if we add Satella into the mix (who Is probably (???) Emilia, kinda -kinda not) and who since the beginning of the series saves Subaru again and again and again ( and Subaru loathes her....)

where was I going with this?

Oh I know: at the end of season 2 Subaru and Emilia realized that what they need from each other is a good pep talk - they fight their own battles and the fight together and that should be enough.

#I also have stuff to say about the other characters in the series Re this theme #re zero kara hajimeru isekai seikatsu #Re:zero spoilers #Emilia #natsuki subaru #otp: the witch and her archbishop

[lumiereandcogsworth]

ohhhh I’d love to hear your unpopular opinions about batb 👀

okay i mean it probably isn’t a secret at this point but i still feel like i’ll get assassinated for saying it outright. but: i think beauty and the beast 2017 is better than beauty and the beast 1991.

and i can throw a thousand caveats on it like i still love batb 1991!!!!! i grew up with it and it’s so good!!! it’s so lovely and amazing and one of the disney greats!!!!! and i would not be lying!!! it’s a WORK OF ART! and because of all that, i think it is an excellent foundation that batb 2017 was built upon and expanded upon which allowed it to flourish Even More than batb 1991.

allow me to elaborate further.

i think that where batb 1991 focuses much more on the story itself, leaving adam and belle a bit more secondary, batb 2017 focuses everything on adam and belle and lets them tell the story themselves. to me, it’s a difference between story drive and character drive, and i just personally enjoy batb 2017 diving so much deeper into adam and belle!!! their personalities and interests and sadness and backstories! they seem so much more real to me, so much more human.

i love the things that were altered. i love how when belle asks him to come into the light, he doesn’t. she has to force the light into his face to see what he is. i love that he was so much more unbelievably stubborn that he didn’t even care who stayed as his prisoner, as long as someone paid for trespassing and theft and overall just ruining his day. i love that the library wasn’t a gift of gratitude, but rather a gift only given when he saw her reaction to it. 2017 adam is so much more stubborn and self-absorbed and self-loathing that this beautiful woman being a chance at breaking the curse just does not cross his mind at first. and i love that. he was so completely hopeless that belle’s presence was nothing more than an inconvenience.

until there’s a spark of shared interest. until there’s a connection of mind and spirit. until they discover that maybe they’re not so different from each other after all!

i just absolutely love the fact that the library comes up because he wants to prove to her how much better his literary taste is than hers. he’s such an arrogant prick that even this amazing library has to be coated in his vanity. it only starts to shatter when he sees her reaction. he sees the truly innocent wonder on her face and for a moment the masks come off for both of them. she’s touched his library, she’s brought the daylight into it. he’s almost speechless because of it! she tells him it’s wonderful and all he can say is “yes… i suppose it is.” followed by giving it to her. hey, maybe this “common thief’s daughter” isn’t so bad after all.

i love how batb 1991 does everything too, but all of it happens just a bit too quickly for me. he changes too quickly, they fall in love too quickly, everything just happens really fast and i feel like i never have time to settle into their friendship or romance. i just kind of have to follow the story and accept that they are in love! which isn’t a terrible thing at all. i grew up loving it and never wanting more. but after seeing batb 2017, i do absolutely love that it got to use more time to really highlight their friendship; to really make me believe that these two are friends who are also very much falling for one another.

that’s why i love the colonnade scene so much, where they’re just talking and joking and confessing to one another. no montage, no song, they’re just hanging out and smiling like idiots the entire time. and that leads to the paris scene which is such a sweet and amazing moment!! they get to run away, just for a minute!! and adam gets to be there for belle for an extremely personal moment, and she’s comforted by that. batb 2017 just provides so many extra little details and scenes to really show the kind of relationship they form, and i guess, for my brain, i needed that to really believe in their love. i’ve never liked romance stories that happen too quickly. i have nothing against them, they just never really have been able to convince me that the pair is truly in love, and not just for romance’s sake. i need them to be besties first🥺 and batb 2017 just does such a lovely little job of making me believe that adam and belle have a love that goes as deep as friendship.

so, yeah. i know live action remakes have a bad reputation, and rightly so!! i understand!!! honestly before i saw batb 2017, i was entirely on that train. i thought live actions were pointless. but then i saw this one and i didn’t expect to fall in love okay!!! it just happened!!! i don’t treat all live actions the same, because i think some Are more unnecessary than others. but batb 2017 did such a fantastic job in holding true to the same story while building upon it and making it even more amazing and beautiful than it already was. and i KNOW not everyone agrees with me, but that’s the unpopular opinion for ya!!

#*holds up my hands and waits for the firing squad* #it’s just my personal feelings!!!! batb1991 is valid and wonderful okay!!!!! aahhhhhhhh #thanks for asking though alex i’ve always wanted a chance to voice all this <3 #beauty and the beast #batb 2017 #beauty and the beast (2017) #beauty and the beast 2017 #alex tag #answered

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 5: Nightmares Walking

Or uh, riding, since that's what my picture has. Alas. Anyway you know the drill by now I'm sure, spoilers for anything and everything under the sun in this post, especially The Wheel of Time since that's what I'm rereading.

This chapter has the Trolloc triptych because we're getting a Shadowspawn attack.

He opened his mouth to shout warning, and suddenly the door of Moiraine’s hut burst open and Lan dashed out, sword in hand and shouting, “Trollocs! Wake, for your lives! Trollocs!”

Perrin, with the magical help of an entire pack of wolves, is only ALMOST as fast to respond to a crisis as Lan. That man's real fucking badass, y'know? (But also: Perrin is fighting his powers every step of the way and Lan's got two decades of experience with his own supernatural aid. It's only a matter of time before Perrin makes Lan look like the chump.)

The Tuatha’an woman pressed her back against the log wall, a hand to her throat. The light from the burning trees showed him the pain and horror, the loathing on her face as she watched the carnage.

I was just reading some stuff iliiuan had to say on the Tuatha'an before I got into this chapter so let me just note: Leya's priorities are all out of whack here if Perrin's reliably relating her emotions. She's not keeping herself safe, she's just being judgy about violence happening in her vicinity. And it kills her.

All that mattered was that he had to reach Leya, had to get her to safety, and the Trolloc was in the way.

Perrin's desperation to do the right thing even though of course he could easily write Leya off as an inevitability (and an inconvenience until the inevitable happens to boot) is why he's a hero, you know? I'll be giving this boy the most shit out of anyone but he tries to save someone's life even though he knows he can't and that's something.

The stink of it filled his nostrils, goat-stench and sour man-sweat.

It's good to know that Trollocs produce all the scents available to them instead of just limiting themselves to one or the other. And by good I obviously mean gross, but since I read it you have to too!

She was still there, huddled in front of the hut, not more than ten paces upslope. And watching him with such a look on her face that he could barely meet her eyes.

Leya's zealotry may be a formative trauma for Perrin I think.

Suddenly Leya moved, throwing herself forward, attempting to wrap her arms around the Myrddraal’s legs.

Well that's great and all Leya but isn't restraining someone so they can't move a very light form of violence? Like good... well good may be strong, but some kind of positive adjective... effort trying to protect Perrin and all but if you tripped the Fade isn't that causing it physical harm? Where is the line for the Tuatha'an? Did she in the last moment of her life betray her own beliefs for nothing? Concerning if so.

“Fade,” Perrin said roughly, but then a different name came to him, from the wolves. Trollocs, the Twisted Ones, made during the War of the Shadow from melding men and animals, were bad enough, but the Myrddraal—. “Neverborn!” Young Bull spat.

Half the reason we don't get Rand POVs much in this book is that Perrin's stealing his TGH schtick of losing himself in his newfound powers. I think this is something of a leftover from the proto-Tam character who was going to be Jesus AND the luckiest SOB ever AND a werewolf AND probably a really good shot I guess or whatever that fourth kid was supposed to contribute. Being easily replaceable, maybe?

The urge to rush down the slope and join his brothers, join in killing the Twisted Ones, in hunting the remaining Neverborn, was strong, but a buried fragment that was still man remembered. Leya.

Perrin will of course spend this book (and the next... ten?) afraid that he might turn into a werewolf forever because of an encounter, but we see right here that this isn't a risk for him because he's always got stuff to pull him back. Leya's barely in the list of ten most recent people he talked to but he won't abandon his humanity for her sake - how much less likely is he to abandon it once he's got Faile?

He no longer thought of the greater battle. There was only the Trolloc he and the wolves—the brothers—cut off from the rest and brought down. Then there would be another, and another, and another, until none were left. None here, none anywhere.

Obviously this is a terrible viewpoint to adapt if you're trying to be the strategy guy, but since Perrin isn't that anyway and the battle isn't reliant on such things, it actually works for him here. He's also more aware of himself than he was with the Whitecloaks, showing he's developed a little with his powers even if he's afraid of them.

Young Bull threw back his head and howled with her, mourned with her. When he lowered his head, Min was staring at him. “Are you all right, Perrin?” she asked hesitantly.

Note that while Min's obviously freaked out by Perrin embracing his inner furry, she's not exactly treating him like a freak show either. Like I said, she'd probably be very supportive if she knew the details.

Frantically he walled himself off from contact with the wolves. Images seeped through, emotions, as he tried to stop them. Finally, though, he could no longer feel them, feel their pain, or their anger, or the desire to hunt the Twisted Ones, or to run. . . .

Again we can kind of see how the proto-Tam's various aspects would have tied into a central character arc, with rejecting the naturalistic wolf expression being just one more way he would have been hardening himself and just one more thing he'd need to embrace to be the full hero at the end.

The Shienarans still standing—so few—lifted their blades and joined him. “Tai’shar Manetheren! Tai’shar Andor!”

Hell, even the Shienarans aren't that judgmental since they are already following Rand around.

But when he was with the wolves, it was all so different. He did not have to worry about strangers being afraid of him just because he was big, then. There was no one thinking he was slow-witted just because he tried to be careful. Wolves knew each other even if they had never met before, and with them he was just another wolf.

Is it wrong that occasionally I think Perrin might be a little bit on the spectrum?

“A sign to confirm our faith. Even wolves came to fight for the Dragon Reborn. In the Last Battle, the Lord Dragon will summon even the beasts of the forest to fight at our sides. It is a sign for us to go forth. Only Darkfriends will fail to join us.”

Masema is of course foreshadowing his delightful nonsense, showcasing how he was still corrupted by Fain, and letting Jordan make it subtly clear that the real Last Battle will be more complicated. It's not just Darkfriends who won't be on the side of the Light, even at the very end.

Do you know what I did during the fight?” Still staring into the distance, Rand addressed the night. “Nothing! Nothing useful. At first, when I reached out for the True Source, I couldn’t touch it, couldn’t grasp it. It kept sliding away. Then, when I finally had hold of it, I was going to burn them all, burn all the Trollocs and Fades. And all I could do was set fire to some trees.”

Rand's an incredible channeler, but even he needs a teacher.

“We . . . dealt with them, Rand,” Perrin said. He shivered, thinking of all the wounded men down below. And the dead. Better that than the mountain down on top of us. “We didn’t need you.”

And likewise, in the final conflict, no one will be needing Rand to deal with the individual Shadowspawn and even if he could deal with them to keep the people alive it would be a waste of everyone's time.

There had been a man, Elyas Machera, who also could talk to wolves. Elyas ran with the wolves all the time, yet seemed able to remember he was a man. But he had never told Perrin how he did it, and Perrin had not seen him in a long time.

Sorry Perrin, but he doesn't really pull it off anywhere near well enough for your standards.

He gasped and almost dropped his axe. He could feel the skin on his back crawling, muscles writhing as they knit back together. His shoulder quivered uncontrollably, and everything blurred. Cold seared him to the bone, then deeper still. He had the impression of moving, falling, flying; he could not tell which, but he felt as if he were rushing—somewhere, somehow—at great speed, forever.

Another reminder that the best modern Aes Sedai have for healing at this point is emergency care, which works but definitely isn't the good stuff. Moiraine even tells him to eat afterward.

“Most of the wolves who were hurt made their own way to the forest,” Moiraine said, knuckling her back and stretching, “but I Healed those I could find.” Perrin gave her a sharp look, yet she seemed to be just making conversation. “Perhaps they came for their own reasons, yet we would likely all be dead without them.”

Moiraine is nice enough to try and thank Perrin subtly, but of course he's much too suspicious for any of that.

“If you could get me to Shayol Ghul now,” Rand said drowsily, “by Waygate or Portal Stone, there could be an end to it. No more dying. No more dreams. No more.”

It would obviously have a terrible ending, but a fanfic of Moiraine somehow taking sleep-deprived Rand to Shayol Ghul and just kind of hoping for the best would be hysterical. This Rand might not be as traumatized as he's going to be, but I still think assuming he'd last five minutes before agreeing to let the Dark One unmake reality is overly generous.

“That’s right,” Rand said bitterly. “I’m not to be trusted. Lews Therin Kinslayer killed everyone close to him. Maybe I’ll do the same before I am done.” “Pull yourself together, sheepherder,” Lan said harshly. “The whole world rides on your shoulders. Remember you’re a man, and do what needs to be done.”

If Perrin or Mat had tried sassing Lan like this they would have learned what their pancreas looked like once chopped in half before finishing the second sentence, so while Lan's toxic masculinity is of course only adding to the Dragonmount of psychological issues Rand's going to need to deal with, let's also reflect that it's still him going easy on his favorite boy.

Next time: Ingtar leads the crew out of Fal Dara, Rand finds out Moiraine fucked with his belongings again, and Lanf--

Wait no. Sorry. That was LAST book's chapter "The Hunt Begins". Next time we read THIS book's version, which probably has a lot less Ingtar due to his having a prior commitment. Also much less Rand on account of his running away.

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #lan al'mandragoran #moiraine damodred #leya #min farshaw #loial #masema dagar #uno nomesta #rand al'thor

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Friendship That Caught Fire: Chapter III - Crashing the 'Party'

Chapter Summary: You set off for the diplomatic mission but there's no word from you for weeks. They start to believe you're dead. Is it really how your story ends?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky, David Kostyk, Alina Starkov, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Genya Safin

Word Count: 2579

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533286/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533221/

'It's been weeks, General. She's not coming back.'

'It's not the first time everyone believes she's dead. She will come back. Eventually.'

'There was no way she could have survived this.'

'She has.'

'Sir… The King wants to pay respect to his fallen soldiers. For that we have to say goodbyes to our fallen as well.'

'… I understand. Make arrangements.'

Grisha in Kirigan's chambers bowed and left. He's left alone with his thoughts. He still couldn't believe it was happening.

First had come the news from you that you and your party had reached Ketterdam and had started making things right. Not long after another message from you had come. This time informing them that everything had been settled and you had started to prepare for the journey back.

And then nothing. No news. No sing of you nor your party. Worry had entered everyone's hearts and minds.

Kirigan himself had departed to find you. He hadn't. Once he had reached Ketterdam he had found out that you had left. No one had seen you since. Two days after arriving in the city Zoya had entered Kirigan's room, pale. She had heard rumours.

Apparently there had been an attack committed by Fjerdans. Everyone had been talking about it because all Fjerdans had burnt. Yes. Burnt. It had been certain that the fire had been caused by an Inferni with a massive power. They all had known it had had to be you.

The rumours, however, had been saying one more thing. No one had survived. They had believed the Inferni had seen no chance for winning and had decided to take everyone with them instead of being captured.

Kirigan hadn't believed that. He still didn't. He had been waiting for your arrival after his return to the Little Palace. He knew you had survived. But it had been weeks. And still no sign off you or anyone that had been with you. So, it was decided it's time to give everyone a symbolic funeral.

Kirigan loathed the idea. You were alive. You were alive and you were going to enter his chambers any moment now, with a charming grin, a teasing glint in your eyes and a ruffled appearance. You were going to ask: 'Did you miss me?' and he would answer that he did.

Any moment now.

…

…

3

…

2

…

1

…

…

…

Please, come back. Come back, [Y/N]. Come back to me… my little flame…

*

The royal chapel was full. Both otkazat'sya and Grisha were present to pay their respects to the diplomatic party. Even the royal family were in attendance, sitting right at the front. On the other side, also at the front, was sitting Kirigan. He's face was impassive, no emotions visible on it.

If he were to look around, he would see grieving Grisha. Geyna had an arm around Alina, comforting her. The Tailor was your dear friend. The closest one after Kirigan. She held crying Alina, trying to be strong even though she wanted to break herself. She wanted to believe you'd come back like you always do. But it was hard after so many weeks without any news.

Alina was really hit by it. You hadn't been close, but you had always been kind and ready to help her or give her advice. Or just listen. She couldn't believe that the woman who had burnt the Fjerdan's castle to the ground (or at least the interior of it) was really gone.

Fedyor and Ivan were sitting not far from General. Their faces were impassive, but one could see sadness on them. They also wanted to believe you were alive. But deep down they knew it's not possible. So, they mourned you in silence.

Zoya was sitting a few rows behind General. She wasn't sad. She was furious. Sure, she had been jealous of your relationship with Kirigan. But while you two had often fight and bicker, you also had had each other's back. Zoya was already plotting revenge for your death.

A row behind Genya and Alina was sitting David. He was crying. Somehow, you had always found time to visit him and talk to him. You had been his dear friend. He had gone with Kirigan to find you, hoping to locate you thanks to your bracelet. After they had heard rumours, they had gone to the place the ambush had happened. Suddenly, David had felt it. They all had rushed there, excited. But they had found ashes and broken pieces of the bracelet, black from fire and smoke. That had convinced them to stop searching and return. David knew he was going to miss you till the end of his days.

The Apparat was leading the ceremony. The 'funeral'. Your friends were barely paying attention. But when he rose his hands, they bowed their heads with others. They owed you and others to at least pay you their respects.

Suddenly, the door banged open. The people closest to it gasped. Kirigan's mouth twitched upward. He didn't have to turn to see who had entered. His heart sped up, relieved.

Your friends, however, did turn around and were shocked. Because it was you and your party that had entered. You all were a complete mess. Clothes torn and burnt. Hair dishevelled. Dirty all over. Bloodied in a few places. But alive.

Slowly and carefully, you walked through the chapel, ignoring astonished looks. You took your usual place at Kirigan's side. You bowed your head and folded your hands in front of you.

'Who died?' you whispered.

'You,' Kirigan murmured, trying very hard not to smile in amusement.

'Oh. This is what, third time I've crushed my own funeral?' you asked, apparently not at all bothered everyone had believed you to be dead.

'Fifth,' Kirigan corrected you. You gave him a surprised (but also a bit amused) look.

'Really?' you asked. 'That many?'

It was really hard not to chuckle. But Kirigan managed it anyway.

'You knew very well it's your own funeral,' he murmured. 'You just love to crash them.'

'No, I just knew it's some very important ceremony and it would be very rude of me to miss it,' you denied. Kirigan finally looked at you. There was amusement in his eyes. You grinned at him. He frowned.

'What's in your hair?' he asked, more intrigued than scared. You winced.

'Trust me, you don't want to know,' you answered and looked at the Apparat, who was standing still, probably for the first time in his life not knowing what to do now. Kirigan cleared his throat.

'Let's thank together for the safe return of our soldiers!' the Apparat finally said and started a proper prayer. You and Kirigan looked at each other. Both of you were holding back your laugh.

*

You entered your chambers, dreaming of a warm bath and your soft bed. You could almost feel it. But everything had to wait for a bit longer, because Kirigan entered behind you.

'What happened?' he demanded. You groaned.

'Kirigan, I'm exhausted,' you said. 'Can your questions wait until I take a bath and sleep in my comfortable… soft… so soft… bed?'

'No,' Kirigan answered at once. You sent him a glare. He was unaffected. You scoffed.

'I'm sure you know by now that Fjerdans attacked us,' you said. 'It was an ambush. My guess is they were really responsible for that misunderstanding, knowing very well important people from Ravka were going to be sent to smooth things over. They waited for us and attacked.'

'How did you survive?' Kirigan asked. You shrugged.

'I started a big fire,' you answered. Kirigan smiled slightly in amusement. But he became serious once again. He slowly walked closer to you.

'Then enlighten me, why it took you so long to come back?' he asked, his voice low. You avoided looking at him.

'You're going to be angry with me,' you said, your cheeks flushed a little. Kirigan rose his eyebrows.

'What happened?' he asked. You cleared your throat.

'We got lost,' you answered, embarrassed. Kirigan stared at you blankly for a long moment. Finally, he sighed.

'Your sense of direction is awful,' he said, pinching his nose.

'I know,' you murmured. Kirigan took another step toward you.

'However, it still took you terribly long to come back,' he said. 'Something else happened, didn't it?'

You looked away, nervous. Kirigan's look hardened. He narrowed his eyes at you.

'[Y/N]…' he said, his voice dangerously low. 'What. Happened?'

His eyes demanded an answer from you. You could feel he was seething. But you were quiet.

'[Y/N],' he practically barked. You sighed, defeated. Instead of answering, you unbuttoned your kefta. You turned around and lifted your shirt. Kirigan took in a sharp breath, seeing awful scars on your back.

'I didn't take a Healer with me,' you said quietly. 'I hoped I wouldn't need one on a diplomatic mission. Foolish of me, I know. The fire I created… I didn't mean for it to be this big. But a Fjerdan got the better on me and slashed my back a few times. I lashed out in pain. I burnt them and passed out. Others didn't know whether there are more of them nor if they had spies in Ketterdam. We hid in a forest. After I woke up, I wanted to move on. But my wounds got infected. Others didn't agree I should travel in such state.'

'Very smart of them,' Kirigan said, gently caressing your scars.

'Yeah, but I assure you, soldiers from the First Army weren't happy with it,' you said, smirking. 'And since we didn't know if there aren't any more of them, we agreed no one should travel alone, even to look for help or send the news to you. It took me a long time to recover. When we set off… I got us lost.'

You smiled sheepishly. You shivered at the feeling of Kirigan's fingers on your skin.

'You got me worried, little flame,' he said quietly. You rolled your eyes.

'Please,' you scoffed. 'I know damn well you didn't believe I'm dead. You didn't even turn when I walked into the chapel. And I saw you were suppressing a smile. You expected me to crash my own funeral once again.'

'Nevertheless, there was still a voice in my head telling me this time you wouldn't return,' Kirigan said. You tensed hearing the seriousness in his voice. But you quickly brushed it off.

'Nyah, if I am to die one day, it will be far more dramatic,' you said, turning around. You lowered your shirt back. Kirigan rose his eyebrows.

'Going down with flames isn't dramatic enough for you?' he asked.

'Nope,' you answered. Kirigan sighed, praying for patience for you.

'What would be, then?' he asked.

'What, do you think I'm planning my own death?' you asked. 'Trust me, you will know if it happens. And if not, I'll try a way to find a way to come back to haunt you as a ghost and say: "Hey, listen, this time I'm really dead. Feel free to give me a funeral, I'm not going to crash it this time.".'

Suddenly, Kirigan gripped your arms tightly and pulled you to himself. You looked at him, surprised.

'Don't joke about such things,' he hissed. You were stunned. It was rare to see him that angry.

'Okay, I won't,' you promised quietly. Kirigan nodded and let you go. Just then the door opened. Genya, David, Zoya, Fedyor, Ivan and Alina walked in.

'You have to stop scaring us like that,' Fedyor said, walking to you with opened arms. You smiled and let him hug you.

'You guys should know I love crashing my funerals,' you said. You got hit on the back of the head from Zoya for it. One by one all your friends hugged you.

'We do, but Alina didn't,' Zoya said. 'You scared poor thing to death.'

'I can see that,' you said, tapping Alina on the head. She was refusing to let you go.

'So, what happened?' David asked. Starkov let go of you, wanting to hear it as well.

'Funny you ask, David, because I actually need Genya's help,' you said.

'How's that relevant?' Ivan asked.

'We were long for so long because I was injured and I had no Healer with me,' you explained and looked away. 'Also because of my terrible sense of direction.'

'Where?' was all that Genya asked.

'My back,' you said and gave your friends a look. 'So, if you could…'

'But you're going to tell us more about it later,' Alina said, hugging you once more.

'Tomorrow,' you promised. 'My bed keeps calling my name. "[Y/N]… [Y/N]… come to me…" I think it has attachments issues.'

Your friends laughed. Even Kirigan cracked a smile.

'Alright, rest,' Fedyor said, hugging you again.

'And don't do more stupid things,' Zoya said, also hugging you again.

'I won't,' you promised, nodding. 'Until tomorrow.'

Zoya rolled her eyes. Apparently, everyone wanted to hug you again, because David also came for it.

'I'm going to fix your bracelet,' he said. 'Just please don't lose it again.'

'Oh, you found it?' you asked, smiling. 'Thanks.'

David smiled and stepped back. Ivan walked to you. You stared at each other for a moment, until suddenly he pulled you in for a crashing hug.

'Ugh! Ivan! It hurts!' you choked out, your eyes wide.

'Good,' Ivan said. 'Maybe you will think of it next time you decide to make everyone believe you're dead.'

'Aw, you do care about me!' you said, grinning. Ivan pulled away and glared at you. But you saw softness in his eyes. He turned and with your friends (except for Genya) headed for the door.

'Not so fast!' you said, pointing your finger at them. They turned around, puzzled. You put your hands on your hips.

'I didn't receive one certain hug,' you said, raising your eyebrows. Kirigan sighed and walked to you.

'And you say your bed has attachments issues,' he said but still hugged you.

'I'm not saying I don't,' you said, happily hugging him back. Finally, after weeks of running and hiding, you felt safe. His grip tightened on you, trying to convey how much relieved he is. You tightened your grip as well, telling him with it that you know and that you felt the same.

'I expect a full report tomorrow evening,' Kirigan said, finally pulling away. 'Don't be late.'

'Wouldn't dream of it, General,' you said. Kirigan nodded and left. Others left after him. Alina was the only one to linger for a moment longer, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. But in the end, it was just you and Genya.

'Bath first?' your friend asked.

'Yes, please,' you groaned. Genya chuckled and made preparations.

'I think Alina is falling for our General,' you said casually.

'She has no idea what she's getting into,' Genya said, also casually.

'No,' you said quietly. 'She doesn't.'

Genya looked at you. She hesitated for a moment.

'Maybe you should-' she started carefully.

'No,' you interrupted her. 'It's not worth it. I'm just an Inferni. I will never be his equal. He's the Shadow Summoner and she's the Sun Summoner. It's perfect. Light to his darkness. And better this way.'

You turned around, not wanting Genya to see your face. But she still looked at you with compassion, knowing that there's sadness and pain in your eyes.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46317019/chapters/116735464

#aleksander kirigan #aleksander morovoza #the darkling #general kirigan #reader #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan/reader #aleksander morozova/reader #the darkling/reader #general kirigan/reader #aleksander kirigan x you #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #general kirigan x you #aleksander kirigan/you #aleksander morozova/you #the darlking/you #general kirigan/you #general kirigan & you #shadow and bone #zoya nazyalensky #alina starkov #david kostyk #genya safin #ivan #fedyor kaminsky #ivan x fedyor

[sillyromance]

Good day everyone!

Recently I have come across a beautiful character Time from Tim Burton's "Alice through the Looking glass" and decided to write a small fanfic about him and my OC for this universe. Hope you'll like it!

A deeper meaning

Time was listening. Chronometers were ticking gently above him, counting seconds of each life in Wonderland. Every day it was a day of someone's death and birth, new grief and new happiness. Tears and laughter, dancing and agonizing, love and loath - so many things, so many emotions contained in a simple monotonous sound: "Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock..." But Time could read it through like an open book. He knew everything - and didn't judge, but watched. Time cherished all living beings lying at will of his hand.

Suddenly his attentive ears caught something different.

Fast little steps. Shallow breath. Harsh heartbeat.

Time turned around. He saw Hannah a few meters away, her cheeks rosy due to running; she was panting, her plump lips opened just slightly. Grey wings were wrapped around her tiny figure not being higher than a quarter of his leg. The girl studied him nervously, as if asking if he was mad at her coming here. Though, it still was a glimpse of hope in her eyes. Time couldn't get angry even if he wanted to; she was small and weak, just a fly comparing to him. Now, when she was that tiny, it was brutally clear that even an originally six feet tall girl was yet nothing but a girl: young, awkward and fragile. A girl who was hard not to fall in love with.

- What is it, Hun? - He lowered down and made a welcoming gesture. - Why did you leave your apartments?

She rushed closer, but stopped right beside his hand, throwing shy glances at it.

- I just came to ask if you need anything. You overworked. - She murmured, opening her wing "shield" a little bit, but didn't come any closer.

Witnessing her hesitation, Time smirked kind-heartedly and leisurely picked the girl up from the ground. Fluffy, tiklish feathers touched his cheek and the man’s smile grew wider.

- I guess you are right, dear. - Time sat her on his shoulder and took his hat off revealing his beautiful brown hair - the same color Hannah had. – And… don't be afraid of me so much. It has been much of me already!

- M... Hm... - She nodded, moving closer to his face and settling in her favorite spot beside his neck. Young valkyrie dared to look in his shiny, sky-hue eyes and saw nothing but kindness and warmth.

- I guess it's a right time for dinner, since the Time is rather hungry!

The man turned on his heels and headed straight to the exit. His passenger giggled at the joke and hid in her thick feathers from the wind. She wasn't always that shy, actually. It was just... Him. They had been living together for two months, however, that uneasy feeling was too stubborn to set her free. Sometimes, he would scare her: with his loud voice, soldier pace, piercing gaze, hot temper – his breathtaking largeness, at the end. Besides, he was a lover of a mad woman who once wanted to force Hanna kill innocent people only because she was a valkyrie. A monster, as they say... She was kind of glad she drank that mixture and became small - at least, she wouldn't be that easy to find...

And, despite all that, Time accepted her. He knew who she was, what plans Red Queen were making about her, but he didn't tell a soul she was here. Why? It was hard to say for sure. Hanna wanted to believe he liked her, though it would be too good to be true...

The pair went through the Time-shaped corridor and took their course to the private quarters of the castle. The huge building was a unique piece of art: high ceilings painted by the best masters of Underland, the walls decorated with gold and black wood, specular floors so clean that, if you looked beneath your feet, you would think you were floating in the air like a balloon... It would be difficult to describe the whole glory of that wonderful place. Hanna never got tired of gracious, harmonious lines, of endless columns and pilasters, complicated patterns and pictures fascinating viewers with their colors and stories. There was a tale of the whole Wonderland written by hundreds of generations and carefully kept by Time itself, remembering each day, each life, each destiny.

At such moments, Hannah always thought about connection between a person who gave her shelter and a huge dial in the main hall. Behind a facade it was an immortal, the most powerful creature in the world, not just a cute man with funny German accent.

Maybe, that was the reason why every time she talked to him her knees shook, despite everything she had gone through.

Finally, they found the right door and Time laid a hand on a door knob, but suddenly a low metallic grumble thundered in the halls. The echo roared:

- Where is this clock head!? Find him immediately you fools! I know she is here, and he won't get away with this now! Oh, how angry I am! And he was telling me he loved me! Liar! Liar! Pathetic, disgusting liar!

Hannah would recognise that crispy, deafing scream from the thousands. She tensed and her eyes got poured with horror.

If they had come for her - and they definitely had - she was dead. She turned to Time – his face darkened. Gears on his neck were moving with abnormal activity.

- Don't worry, she won't hurt you. – He whispered gently, concern and anxiety in his artificially blue eyes. – I'll make sure of that.

Something about his tone wasn’t right, though Hannah didn’t pay much attention to that - and instantly regretted it. She couldn’t possibly imagine what was about to happen. Hanna let him reach her, hold her in his hands, bring her close to his lips and...

To say that she was terrified was to say nothing. She tried to struggle in his grasp, but his grip on her torso and wings was firm - it was impossible to make a move, and if she did, she would hurt herself, cutting her skin with various rings on his fingers. Her legs were squeezed by his throat, and no matter how hard she tried to kick them out of there, they only slid further downwards with each gulp. Very soon she saw a row of white teeth over her chest. The girl shut her eyes and waited for him to cut her head off, but... It didn't happen. Instead, very gently, she was guided to the pharynx and swallowed whole.

It was slick, and humid, and dark, and tight; strong contractions of the flesh – or whatever material it was – quickly overwhelmed her. The girl felt dizzy and nauseous – something between terror and disgust occupied her quivering soul. Time promised to protect her, and instead he did... This...

Why? How it supposed to help?

Was it a trap all along?

What… What if she was going to die?

Everything around her was ticking, scratching, whining, rotating - it was like being thrown in a huge old mechanism which the man actually was. Though she couldn't see, the girl could sense every cog doing its job. There were no organic sounds at all, and that startled the valkyrie even more. Still wiggling in poor attempts to at least slow down her glide, she was travelling along a slimy - or rather oily - tube to the core of Time and trembled, predicting what awaited her when she would reach her destination.

Suddenly, the walls squished the girl more intensively than usual - with a pitiful moan, she was expelled in a bigger room. It was soft and a little stiffy like an old laundry; as she crawled forward, her hands dove in a pool of viscous liquid. Like a mouse from a cat, Hanna jerked from it to the side and pressed her little palms against slippery inner surface of the pouch.

- Time! Time, don't leave me here! Please, let me out! What did I do wrong? Please, I'm scared... Time...

The valkyrie hit that elastic flesh and cried. She didn't get an answer, no matter how much she yelled into the pitch black nowhere. It was pointless - it was all pointless. At least... At least it would save her from the fate of becoming a murderer. There he was right - Red Queen wouldn't get to her here. No one would be able to get to her ever again.

Soon she stopped protesting and pleading, and just laid limp on the soft floor, burring herself in her wet feathers. The stomach was warm, and plushie - not the worst way to pass out. But he abandoned her. He... She thought, he was her friend.

Well, she forgot - time is a friend to no man.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Meanwhile, Time was at a very critical situation himself. Iracebeth came across him at the very second he felt his stomach swell, and that was good - she didn't know where Hanna was. However, the woman was so furious, Time could start worrying about his own well-being. She unceremoniously dragged him to the side and pushed into a living room where two guards stood beside an armchair. He was thrown there, and his "lover" sank him in an ocean of questions which were constantly interrupted by her complaints, threats, lamentations and drizzling of broken items she ran into while restlessly wondering around like a tiger in a cage. Although, it wasn't like Time really listened - his hand was on his middle, and he carefully examined his sensations coming from within.

He had to warn her...

Time heard Hanna's desperate screams, they broke his mechanical heart, but he couldn't reply to them, thought he really wanted to. She must have been very scared in there. She must have thought she was going to die... Poor girl. She suffered so much already, and now, when it seemed he managed to help her, he destroyed everything again. The only good thing was that she would be fine. He really hoped she would - if not mentally, then physically. Though, he couldn't really say he was fine - all that happened left him in pure shock.

Rubbing at the spot where he could feel the valkyrie's little body, Time mutely stared at the pissed off Queen and waited for her hysteria to burn itself out. His long experience with that woman taught him that at such occasions patience was the best tactic.

As he expected, thirty minutes passed and she gave up. After breaking one more vase, Red Queen, breathing heavily, sat on a sofa before him and gave her partner a venomous look. She was exhausted.

- ... And after all of that you don't even try to defend yourself? Fool.

- Why would I need to? - The man replied calmly, his gaze confident and clear. - I'm not in any trouble. You were definitely tricked, your majesty.

- What!? How dare you say such nonsense!

- I do dare because the girl you are talking about is not here and I have never seen her in my life.

- I hardly believe it. - The queen took out a big handkerchief and wiped her teary eyes. – And don’t call her that! She is nothing more than a beast. Ah! Even you deceived me!

Time accumulated all his will not to show sarcasm. He could understand everything - Iracebeth's aggression, her hatred towards sister, her sadness and tears, but sometimes her manipulative habits and cruelty were just too obvious. He would still feel bad about her no matter what since, unlike many others, he could see the whole picture of her bitter fate. But that time he stood on the other side of the barricade.

He had to make her leave. And, which was not less important, to keep their relationships in a safe bay.

- Well, I challenge you to test my devotion, love. Order your guards to look around my castle - I can assure you, you won't find any evidences against me.

- Your assurance doesn't worth anything. - She scoffed, turning away. - But you gave me a good idea. Guards!

The red soldiers immediately straightened up, waiting for her words.

- Search through this palace - look under every stone and on every shelf, shake it from the roof to foundation, but find me that winged freak. Alive! And don't stand like useless statues, go for it, now!

The guards obediently left.

While Red Queen wasn't looking, Time exhaled, relieved – Hannah’s quarters were hid well, only he knew the path. So, the game was already over.

At the meantime, in his stomach, the girl who seemed to settle down, suddenly came to life. Oh, it was pure luck only he could catch her voice out here. She sobbed. Gosh, that pretty tiny bird would give him a heart attack! Time didn't stop secretly stroking his taunt middle through the clothes, feeling how the clock in his chest ached as if someone stabbed it with a knife. He tried to convince himself she would be all right. Just some more minutes. He could afford it.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Hannah heard him speaking to someone, possibly Red Queen. Nothing bad happened yet, and still she felt very helpless, and hopeless. It was unnerving to be stuck in complete darkness, figuratively and literally. The only "entertainment" she had was something touching her back lightly as if in attempt to soothe her, however, the valkyrie couldn’t know for sure – perhaps, it was just her lively imagination. She felt indescribably lonely. And that unchanging, never-ending ticking - cold, indifferent - it drove her crazy! She wanted, no - she demanded to get a sign, to hear a single word meant for her, anything showing that he remembered...

Hannah got up again and dug her fingers into the silk flesh once more, struggling to reach the source of slight sensation. Her lungs burned of crying. Choking and sniffing, she called:

- Time, please!.. Please, say something. I can't bare this anymore... Answer me!..

No respond. The girl pushed harder, but the wall softly sprang under her hands and Hannah slammed over the bouncy floor. Her wings felt numb and sore – lack of space didn’t allow them to stretch even on a half of their capacity. Moreover, they were soaked in that oily liquid and visibly weighted: the valkyrie couldn’t stay straight for long or it would make her back dangerously creak.

Time didn't hear her, or pretended that he didn't. The girl didn't know what was worse. Her love for him had a violent battle with disappointment and sorrow. It wasn't like she hated him, no. She just couldn't understand why. Now, when she thought it was the end, "why?" was the only question lingering in her tired mind.

It was inevitably the last question, every fucking time...

Old memories waltzed before her gaze, rapidly turning darker and uglier as they did.

It was definitely all her fault... They were right - it was her fault!...

Powerless, she gave up on the attempts to squirm. But, hiding her dirty face in her palms, she continued occasionally calling out for him.

She didn’t believe he would answer anymore.

But it was the only thing she could cling on just to stay conscious. To stay alive.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Time closed his eyes. It was almost over - they didn't find anything and soon the queen would be out. Regardless, any moment prolonging her stay gifted him with a new wave of agony.

- I'm scared... Don't do this to me... I... I beg you - don't be so cruel... – He heard a new faint shout from within and clenched his teeth.

Why didn't he come up with anything else? What was the reason he thought that swallowing Hannah was the best - and the only - option? Analysing it now, he saw countless possibilities aside that one. But... Back then it was something Time couldn't control. He had to keep her safe, yet close, because only then he could be certain the girl wouldn't get harmed. He rarely felt such strong emotions, and that made it difficult for him to find any proper explanation of what it was. But undoubtedly, it was something primal, subconscious. Something like... Hunger.

Time wasn't a human, though he looked like one; he didn't need to eat like normal people did. When he made a joke about dinner, in his case the man ment consumption of things that would simply keep him going, like oil, for instance. So, average hunger or starvation were unfamiliar to him.

However, that pang which struck him at the moment of danger tore a hole in him - at least, that what he felt. The man couldn't help himself, he knew - that was the right choice: to take her in, to become her alive armour, a tower no one could conquer where his tiny princess wouldn't fear anything. To satisfy that empty feeling. And his opened his mouth, and swallowed her whole despite protests and cries.

The only goal he achieved was that now, she feared him.

- I guess, I was wrong about you after all, my darling… - It was incredibly difficult to focus on Iracebeth, but Time forced himself to stand up as she jumped off her seat.

No one would expect so many controversial emotions to fight beneath the mask of courtesy on his face.

- See? I wouldn’t go against you, love...

- But I’m still mad at you! - She interrupted him. Her foot in a high-heel shoe gave the floor a capricious tap.

- What did I do to cause your displeasure, your majesty?

- You knew I was looking for that creature all along and didn’t do anything! If you really loved me, you would have already brought her to me!

- My seconds are working days and nights on that… It seems she is quite smart. Although, not smarter than my dearest, isn’t she? She will be yours, my sweet queen...

His smarmy grin made Iracebeth visibly soften – she smiled back and let her partner guide herself and her servants to the exit.

" Ok, act casual - a smile, a kiss, a bow. Don't let her know. They almost departed."

- Time... Please...

Wilkins opened the gates and the guests finally crossed the last border of his territory. He watched impatiently as Red Queen crawled into her carriage and two bright red horses with long black plumes on their heads swept her away.

-Time…

Wilkins vanished too. Good.

-Say anything...

- Hannah!

He put all the pain he felt into that word. The man leaned to the locked gates and hugged himself - hugged her inside of him.

- I am here. Please, don't cry - I meant no harm. I... You are safe. Trust me, Hannah - you are safe!

He fought the wish to cough her up right then and there - it would spook the girl even more; she could get hurt. He prayed she would listen. Time have never thought that his own seconds could be that intimidating; the valkyrie in his belly went silent. Deadly silent.

- I'm sorry I didn't say it to you earlier. It would be too dangerous! I... I understand how you feel right now - I will understand if you don't want to speak to me ever again, but I'm not kidding, Hun. I meant no harm.

The last phrase turned into a whisper on his pale lips. He was counting.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

- T-Time?

Her voice was cracked and high-pitched.

- You didn't leave m-me? Is it really you?

Thank goodness!

- Hannah...

- I thought... I thought you would... - She trembled. - That you would kill me...

- No, no, of course not! I'm very sorry... Forgive me, Hun. If you can...

He slowly sat down on the floor. Strange, but oddly pleasant sensation of another life wiggling around inside him restarted. He could say she still was kinda edgy, though the movement appeared to be rather curious than panicking. Time pressed a hand a bit harder against his waist, tracing the girl’s way. In return the man received a hesitant pat.

-What is that, Time?

- Don’t worry. It’s just my hand.

- Oh… - Hannah flinched. She put two and two together, and late realization came to her. – So… You… You were with me… I… oh, Gosh... I was an idiot... I should have thought!..

Her emotions was so strong that she couldn’t finish – the valkyrie simply buried herself in soft wrinkles of the stomach and rubbed at the spot where she could feel his presence. All her worries disappeared instantly.

- I’m sorry for rumbling – you don’t like that…

Time laughed drily.

-Do whatever you want and don’t even TRY to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong! It was me who scared you. By the way, I want to tell you: you don’t have to watch your step every moment around me just because I’m “the Time itself”! Sounds ridiculous, I know. However…

He paused, trying to find the words.

– I require honesty, Hannah. You should be honest with me and yourself. I’m honest with you – I care about you! I’m on your side! I won’t hurt you just because I can – there are people like that and you met them often – but I’m not them. I call my seconds stupid. But they are my beloved children I would kill for. It’s as true as the fact that you are my… friend.

Hannah noticed the place heated up. Wait… Was he blushing?

-T-thank you… Time. No one ever said that to me after my parents passed away. – She said quietly. – And, frankly… I couldn’t be happier now. I’m shocked – and glad – that you see me in this way. Because you are my friend too. I like you.

He didn't say anything about that. The space suddenly got even more crumped and the clock above started ticking a little bit off the rhythm – but it was just silence. Not frightening, but rather… fluttering that time.

Mechanical noises coming from here and there lost their flat and unbothered tone – they talked. They sang. A trap turned into a temple; Hannah suddenly thought that she was actually inside of his body. Well, it was obvious. But earlier it sent chills of horror down her spine while now they were the chills of extreme adoration. Before he appeared in her head as an invincible god. In fact, he wasn’t invincible – he could feel pain, he could be broken. She could break him like, right at that moment – or any other moment in the past. Time’s abrupt – almost instinctual – decision to put her under his skin, to give her access to the most vulnerable part of him only to defend her instantly obtained a much deeper meaning she was only about to understand - and deeply appreciate…

She snuggled deeper into the warm flesh, listening to the melodic rhythm of his body. He sat there, curled around her possessively.

They stayed like this for long – it could be an eternity.

Although, everything, good or bad, comes to an end.

-I guess, you want out now. – Time’s voice was slightly tremulous.

-I… I do. No offence. - She admitted shyly. - My wings need some space.

-Sure. – She could feel him straighten up. His palm didn’t let go of her even for a second. – And by the way... After you get ready, we still could have that dinner together. If you still want it, of course…

#soft vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #time vore #unwilling prey #unwilling pred #protective vore #oc #Hanna the Valkyrie #unintentional fearplay #fearplay vore

[bohemian-nights]

what do you think of laenyra? 🤔 (Whether book or show or both)

I’m not interested in any ship that involves Miss Maegor(except her x the first van to the nuthouse), but if we are talking about the validity of the ship(there is none) then that’s a different story.

Show!Laenyra does not exist. I wished the morons who are trying to make fetch happen would stop using Show!Laena in their fanart because show!Miss Maegor viewed Laena as competition(see Missy Anne glaring at her at her wedding).

It’s disrespectful as hell to put show!Laena with the woman who shamelessly threw herself at her husband at her funeral(karma hit her fast though, see chokegate). This ship is worse than Rancid. At least that’s show canon.

Don’t even get me started on how the dumb fucking Karen’s who love to shit on Nettles for being Black and existing suddenly care about racism when it comes to Laenyra. The fact that these clowns would rather make up racism than admit the truth is hilarious.

Let me break it down for those who pretend to be death dumb and blind, the show is not racist for not entertaining this bullshit ship.

The show is racist for making Laena seem like second place which is coincidentally the same thing that Becky and them are trying to do with Laenyra and Nettles when they say she should be fucking cut from the show because there are too many darkies around.

The show is racist for screwing over Laena. This show is racist for racebending a character and then proceeding to kill her off in the most brutal way possible in order to make a racist white woman’s death(she had it coming for her) look less pathetic while labeling your deplorable decisions as “empowering.”

Laena is treated as a pet or a prop by these deluded stans and not an actual character who deserved respect love and cherishment. Her purpose was not and has never been to bow down and thirst over a fucking lunatic.

Anyone who doesn’t acknowledge that isn’t ready to have a conversation about this shows biases and their own.

Moving on! The only basis for book!Laenyra is the word fond(which is used in as a comparison between how Missy Anne viewed Laena vs. her stepmother). That’s not enough proof to show that they were fucking or in a throuple situation with Daemon.

If they had actually been in the former Daemon would’ve gotten Missy Maegors dumbass pregnant and Joffrey would not exist(anyone who doesn’t think so is a dumb fuck who needs to brush up on their reading comprehension).

I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face. No one actually cares about this stupid ship. Notice how the only people who ship it are Rhaenyra/Dumbnyra stans.

The only reason why Rhaenyra’s dumbass racist white-supremacy lite stanbase pretends to care about Laenyra is so that they can squeeze Rhaenyra’s ass into Laena and Daemon’s marriage and make it seem like Daemon just can’t live without her.

(Which makes total sense considering he couldn’t live without her so much that he choked her the fuck out in the show after she gave birth to a lizard and abandoned her for Nettles when she went fucking crazy and tried to murder her in her sleep in the books. I guess it’s not true love unless you completely don’t care about your partners emotional and physical well-being☺️).

To wrap this up, I cannot express how much I loathe this nonsensical ship(that’s why I’m censoring any of my cursing). Period point blank show!Laenyra isn’t fucking canon and book!Laenyra has only lint to support it being “canon.”

*I should add that there are people who genuinely support Laenyra and aren’t trying to use the ship to insert Miss Maegor into Laena and Daemons marriage or only view Laena as a prop, but they are few and far between.

#anti Laenyra #it’s crack #the ship is dumb and isn’t canon #that’s the plain and simple truth #bnasks #bnask #laena velaryon #anti rhaenyra targaryen

[horizon-verizon]

I’ve always disliked Rhaena. She was a terrible, neglectful mother to her daughter and an abusive, cheating wife to Androw Farman.

*EDITED POST* (1/10/24)

Response to this post HERE.

The same guy who killed what seems to be a teenage girl because his wife came to hate him and wouldn't allow him to accrue more power or esteem through her position yet also wanted her to become politically subordinate to her out of jealousy and a fragile ego? Sure, let's go through this.

blankwhiteshield says this:

You can have an irredeemable and evil character that the patriarchy still suppresses and affects the psychology of immensely, rendering her a bigger monster. The commentary on the destructive capacity of static social constructs is not lost as a result. A character can turn into the devil of the story due to a world that ceaselessly strips her of her humanity, as well as as a result of the choices she actively makes.

And Rhaena was never actually evil or abusive or anything like these things BEFORE she's forced to marry Maegor, etc.

Her History (and a Pseudo-Summary of Later Explanations)

I perceive Rhaena to have been sensitive in her youth and then grew more bitter from the slights & abuses against her. The hurt becomes the hurter. It started as ner needing to be away from people towards the end of her life, especially when they expressed they didn't want her around and they had been with her intimately (romantic, familial, or platonic).

Though she started shy and always preferred to be either alone or with close friends, it is that reservedness that makes her value her bonds with a select group of people that makes their dismissals or betrayals hurt that much worse. Thus her lashing out, her brooding, her solitary runs, and her cold "bloodthirstiness" against Androw after she realizes he killed all her remaining friends. All ways for her to collect her perenially crushed dignity.

She marries Androw just to be close to Elissa and she never mistreats Androw until Elissa leaves. Then she lashes out.

She ticks off 3 of 8 behaviors of emotional abuse (in italics):

threats

insults

constant monitoring

excessive jealousy

manipulation

humiliation & ridiculing

intimidation

dismissiveness

And we know that it would have continued. The details we get, she:

continued to accuse/suspect him of helping Elissa run away and steal her dragon eggs

said that the "wrong Farman" ran away

laughed after her ladies laughed when he requested to replace a man named Bullock as the garrison commander

mocked him when she said how he couldn't stay on a dragon even if he tried after he declared they'd go together to the dying Alyssa

...but does this merit femicide and killing kids for your own growing self-loathing? (Reminder, femicide is different from just killing a woman. Femicide is killing a person because they are a woman and you wish to display dominance in destroying a woman & instilling their inferiority or subservient position to oneself, to punish her for straying from that role. Again, I explain how Androw falls under a femicidal person.)

Of course, Elissa left bc Rhaena already was in her state of bitterness and to kickstart her sailor-captain-adventurer dreams. However, if we argue that Rhaena shouldn't have put down a grown man's self-esteem and hurt both her lover & daughter so she could feel more in control...shouldn't we hold Androw Farman accountable for his crimes in response to those put-downs?

I think that the strength of Rhaena's writing is how human she is and is allowed to be by the narrative while showcasing how she pulled others into her misery with no coddling nor outright subtextual disgust.

In Rhaena, we get the raised question of what do we do with a victim who's BOTH fallen into darkness and then faces more of the similar thing they resented or has pushed them into the darkness? We also see the beginnings and consequences of female Targ abuse. I think we can appreciate Rhaena as a layered female character with many faults developed from abuses or ignoring those abuses, exacerbated over time while being the center of a story within a major one. Something we don't get often enough for women.

In Rhaena, we're getting a very detailed look into non-ideal motherhood, womanhood, and victimhood--from her and those she hurt.

She clearly has loyalty to her own family and house, cares about her kids as a mother (look below), but also seeks out any sort of compensation or some sort of justice for the suffering and sidelining that came from being a woman, and a woman in the wrong place of history AND being a female Targ.

She is quite literally our first account of what being a female Targaryen princess/royal family member is like (Alyssa Velaryon does not grow up royal or a Targ). She foreshadows & heralds the exclusionary/oppressive fates of Targ women, especially under war, and shows us the one way a woman (does not or cannot) deal with the fallout & decisions of others.

(Check out the quote way below of her criticizing her mother's decision to marry Rogar despite Rogar having abandoned Aegon when he battled Maegor above the God's Eye).

We remember that her brother Aegon was named heir over her despite her being the oldest child of Alyssa & Aenys. She did not complain or protest at this because she grew up in this patriarchal society and lived more or less privileged, surrounded by a lot of so-s-so--to great female friends as a princess and expecting to become Queen Consort one day, with the new family she grew with said husband. She is also the one to give her siblings Jaehaerys and Alysanne the eggs of the dragons they have while they are still in their cradles.

That all ends with her uncle usurping her husband, which is ironic because, again, she is the oldest AND she wanted to leave to protect their twins. So we should understand that at one point she came to the idea that her life could have been totally different if she had been Queen/heir apparent, as a succession crisis still occurred.

Then she's forced to marry that same uncle who she probably believes betrayed not only his rightful king but his entire family through the murder of her brother-husband, the "marriage", threatening her daughters, and killing her brother (Viserys). And of course, Maegor would have raped her through the entirety of their forced marriage. Later on, her mother aids Jaehaerys in further passing her over for another son--yes partly for the survival of all her surviving kids, but again it's not so much Alyssa as much as the passing over after all Rhaena was forced to give up (below). Alyssa and Rogar explicitly planned against the possibility of her becoming a regent for one of her daughters (as they both were thought as Aegon's heirs) ["The Year of the Three Brides -- 49 A.C."]:

I don't know if she, in real-time, understood that this was the reasoning behind Rogar & Alyssa's thinking, but either way, she looks like she observed that she was being treated as more of a threat than someone Alyssa gave birth to and someone who would have done anything for her family. Her claim became the thing her family used against her. And she became more and more resentful of the exclusion and "subtle" betrayals/sidelining.

And was it truly Alyssa's fear, or Rogar's, that Rhaena would come back to wrest power through her daughter? Who is the one to try to kidnap Rhaella and force her to "confess" that she is Aerea after he failed to get Aerea or convince the others to back his plans to usurp Jaehaerys? Rogar!

More likely, he convinced Alyssa that this was the case so he'd be more in control and isolate/distance Rhaena from her family. She saw through him before anyone else! ("Prince into King"):

Her and Jaehaerys, his making it clear that she would not gain Dragonstone based on her own autonomous claim to the throne but on his permission as king--have their own sort of betrayal, even though he had his own pressures to show others his strength and authority he could be a "tough but fair" king. Again, she didn't ask for the throne, but the thing that would be given to who is the next in line to the throne.

At this point, Aerea was Jaehaery's heir presumptive (not "apparent"). Jaehaerys had no children and Rhaena had just come from the machinations of the Lannisters--her moving into Dragonstone and being recognized as one with a claim would have given her more power against those seeking to use her. Plus, again, her daughter was considered Jae's heir. Hence, when Jae took that last dignity/remnant of something that could-have-been from Rhaena, she sought to claim back her own daughter...especially since she might have known that Jae would just eventually sideline Aerea if/once he had kids. (From her perspective)

Jaehaerys took her asking for Dragonstone as an indirect challenge to himself (not that she was opposing him so much as her doing it at all reminds others that because she is the eldest of Aenys' children, others around them could advocate or use her despite her being female....just as Rogar tried to when he tried to usurp Jaehaerys), and I think Rhaena was offended by his even thinking to suspect or throw out a hint of accusation. As well as his extra pains to make sure she was his subject and not his equal or peer in the full eyes of everyone. There is where she'd feel humiliated simultaneously.

Yes, Jaehaerys was trying to solidify his place in a time when people doubted him right after defeating Maegor, but it is not about him so much as him distrusting her. With her history. Doing it purposefully in front of "outsiders" and potential betrayers (Rogar and the other courtier & nobles) looking for any weaknesses--as if she were not family, as if she weren't the one who gave him his egg as a baby as if she'd actually care enough to try to usurp him. Why not talk to her beforehand, get her into a conversation about their plans going forward so he could broadcast his own control. Thus also strengthening the idea of her symbolic outcast-enemy status to the public. For all Rhaena's self-retreats and brooding, she had much to brood about.

In other words, kinda like Maegor (for it would remind her of Maegor, I think) Jae chose power over family...or really, he was very shortsighted when it came to a problem like this, chose to take advantage of his female relatives while also excluding them from most political decisions and chose the easier, exclusionist way (bc against, he continues this into his death, alienating most of his female family members but also opening the way to the Dance through that exclusion or sidelining).

With Alyssa, his mother becoming his regent and marrying the man who would have usurped him through his connection to Alyssa, I also think that he saw it better for him to consolidate power away from his female relatives bc they could marry men who'd compete with him.

Even with Alysanne, you can see where he reaped the benefit of her intellect, or would have ignored some of her claims and demands if she hadn't been the right kind of insistent (the drinking water of KL).

Her Marriage & Androw's Character

She definitely cheated (if you define cheating as going out for a partner whilst having another on a monogamous relationship despite only marrying them for security), but I don't really feel she should be shamed in the same way we should shame Robert Baratheon, Aegon II & IV, Aerys II, and just ASoIaF men in general for cheating. I do not care that Cersei cheated on Robert multiple times.

Even if Robert didn't abuse Cersei, I wouldn't care about her cheating versus his cheating because Cersei, while she definitely has her ego, cheats to reaffirm the autonomy ignored since childhood AND to try to use her lovers to her own political advantage during her marriage to him. That and how the marriage itself is an arrangement for politics, not for love or intimacy AND women are expected to not practice the same sexual freedoms men do, not even allowed to have their own lovers without ruining their reputations and social value. She also might (and this is a big might) have stayed faithful or devoted to Robert (or at least would feel some guilt in her affairs) if not for his clear preference for Lyanna ANd his philandering throughout their marriage. It comes from a need to have the power men have in her society. Robert cheats because he just feels like it and thinks he's entitled as a man/king. Cersei is from the thought that she should have that kind of power, that entitlement, and though she does not, she will claim it and also do it for her kids' sake....too bad that her classism and cruelty far outstrip her own perception of her capabilities.

The other thing is that Rhaena was very likely a lesbian who could sleep with a man if she was "asked nicely" for politics if the husband was pleasant enough, and/or if it benefited a relative as long as it also didn't ruin her autonomy, esp after Maegor. People of the same sex cannot marry each other even in Dorne, and they can't openly live together as a couple. And if she wasn't lesbian, she'd still be a bisexual woman who got her most important and most positive relationships from those with women. When that happens, romance, sexual desire, and platonic love can and often blur. Especially when there is no safe room to really explore/reflect on those feelings in one's youth or adulthood.

And of course, she fell in love with Elissa and wanted to be close to her.

What exactly could she have done except use marriage as her cover? Yeah, that's unfortunate for Androw, who probably thought that she was in it for him and romance (he wasn't very bright, too), but his feelings don't invalidate or erase the conditions I've described nor do they really compare or level with Rhaena's position as a wlw woman. The condition of entrapment for a woman like Rhaena.

Rhaena says this of why she married Androw ("A Surfeit of Rulers"):

I do not think their marriage was ever a real one, in terms of romance or having a close bond ("Birth, Death, and Betrayal"):

Though they began as pleasant acquaintances, she always had stronger love and care for his sister, not him. Rhaena knew that she'd be pressured into remarrying even after Maegor's death to shore up Jaehaerys' (really Rogar's authority and stake in Jaehaerys' rule) own power through connections to specific families. This is why Rogar was angry when she married without his permission.

He even was already choosing people of his own family to arrange a marriage b/t her and them for his own power! ("The Year of the Three Brides-49 A.C."):

So her rationale & goals in marrying Androw: If she had to be married, she would choose the guy who she thought wouldn't make things difficult and oppressive for her, which includes marrying a guy far beneath her powers and rank PLUS an easygoing guy. Remember how she rails at Rogar for basically consigning her mother, Alyssa Velaryon, to death instead of just being happy with the male child she managed to birth to him before? Her disapproval of Jaehaerys for dismissing her with Dragonstone, his castigation of her threatening Franklyn Farman even though he's the one who told her he would just throw out Aerea if she ever appeared just as he did to her. Maegor's forcing her to marry him and raping her for months, the fear she could have lived with all those months.

She did not marry him to love him nor hurt him intentionally, but she married him to avoid marrying a man who could drag her into heated political conflicts and to be closer to Elissa without it causing too much suspicion/to keep female intimacy without suffering patriarchal violence. Androw was placidly kind (in the beginning and what she thought) and didn't ask as much from her as other noblemen would have. Until later...

Androw became (or failed to hide that internalized envy and inferiority complex) the very sort of man she tried to avoid, incel-like. Here is a quote of him and his justification for killing all her friends ("Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I"):

Meanwhile, these are descriptions of Androw as a person both before and a little after his marriage to her:

A lot of emphasis was placed on his:

his lack of really wanting adventure, the opposite of his sister whom Rhaena loved and preferred just as a companion (their incompatibility, not just his inferiority and lack of appeal) -- his incompetence as either a warrior or a "learned" man. going back to the inferiority part, let's be real, how much appeal does a person with no talent NOR any ambition have? If you don't have talent, at least have intelligence or curiosity or ambition. If not the last one, at least some of the others. And he's illiterate so no discussions about stuff they could read, has no hobbies to speak of or that we see. It's not just Rhaena who sees no appeal in him; apart from seeing that he is powerless in Dragonstone bc Rhaena shows her indifference to him, others around Androw have not been his friend or whatever for ALL of his life. Again, he's not that impressive of a person.

And he never seemed to really care or notice this (or expressed such) until people began to really mock and disregard him on these things alone and he was outside of his own birth home, where he'd not really experience people making fun of him probably bc his brother and father would not have allowed it, or he wasn't so much in people's view for them to dwell on his shortcomings.

Mark that part about him spending his time in the room with the Painted Table with the map of Westeros. He started to dream of conquests or those masculinized activities of power and domination.

The women weren't just mocking him without observing a legitimate change in him, as cruel as the book (written by male maesters) tells us they were about it. They were mocking him bc they see him try so hard to grasp power; too obviously try to show he's the "boss", the "man"; for not understanding/accepting who has the real power (Rhaena); AND probably bc they are so used to seeing a man have all the power and are enjoying the reversal, their advantage over him.

While one may think that it's understandable and justified for him to want more respect or power in a place where people constantly denigrate him...what he does to get revenge and get back control doesn't match the wrong(s) and was itself misogyny-motivated AND again, he was already turning to the feudalist hypermasculine ideal of violence against women and children as a way towards "dignity"...something that Aemond will grow up as part of his male, princely entitlement in his own mass/spree murders and subjugation in the riverlands.

Mind you, he decided to kill only the women around Rhaena, not any of those men who the maester said also mocked him.

Here are 2 quotes about that ("Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I"):

And this is what he says to her after she is hugging the corpse of her cousin and youngest companion, Lianna Velaryon:

So why is he an incel? Because he feels he is entitled to her time, body, and company even to the moment where he kills all her friends for being her friends and not "respecting" him, though they were never a real couple; like Rogar to Alyssa (who had been castigating her until he finally insults her in front of the council when he proposed usurping Jaehaerys), Androw wants to be the lord to his wife instead of the husband to her "over"-lady. He wanted that traditional, patriarchal dynamic, and what's so absurd is that he expected it after all those months of being married to her...instead of thinking about that before marrying her, when she had been a Queen Dowager and showed her personality at his home island.

Now, this is not to say Rhaena should have let her daughter splash shit water on his head without suitable punishment since he hadn't done anything at that point to either her or Aerea to warrant such anger that the book tells us. It's saying that:

she already grew to distrust men of her not being able to deal w/the sexism...once more, we need to remember that Maegor raped her & threatened her child's life

her distaste for him grew because she couldn't stand his Elissa-like face

there may have been some words b/t them when they fought the two times they fought she could never forgive (we don't know for sure bc we aren't privy to that from the book but it is a possibility)

she suspected him of helping Elissa take Dreamfyre's eggs bc she knew that he was likely to help his own sister, they weren't close themselves, she and Elissa were on the rocks, AND he probably was already showing signs of jealousy at their bond...too eager to establish something she could never have with him

and as a result, she withdrew into her circle of women, those she had always been able to find some sort of substantive emotional support and less unpleasant surprises -- thus her further distancing from him and refusal to really castigate her people from disrespecting him

he either developed an inferiority complex after being mocked OR he always had one but it really got triggered when Elissa's absence made him more aware of how others thought he was out of Rhaena's league and disrespected him on his own lack of those qualities that his society expects of an aristocratic man

Add the boiling pain and betrayal above and you have a person who can't tolerate their husband, another person asking things of her or who w/could.

Retrospectively, I also headcanon that Rhaena felt this envy growing in him whenever they were together and this was one more reason for her to separate herself from him. That he made some sort of demands from her to treat him more like Andal women are expected to treat their husbands...despite her outranking him (if not in powers but in the title), their seemingly non-close relationship, and his seemingly being fine enough with that to even agree to marry her in the first place.

Androw wasn't a helpless child. He seemed content until they had to leave Fair Isle on his own brother's orders and was more exposed to others' thoughts of his subparness. Despite the rank, Rhaena can't do much for a person who doesn't attempt to self-improve (it's told the maester was the one who tried to get him to at least be more learned). And she felt she shouldn't have to, bc again he wasn't a kid and she probably felt she gave/worked enough for the wrong people.

Rhaena as a Mother

Apparently, or maybe, Rhaena was never a child person. However, remember that this is the same woman who:

begged her brother-husband to run to Essos to take their kids away & protect them from Maegor, specifically stating she prioritized the girls' lives over his claim, the latter of which she had already said she prioritized over her own life

laid her life on the line to protect her two daughters from Maegor by disguising them and voluntarily entering KL/the Red Keep to be married off to him, even with no expressed protest....also accepted the chance she'd be tortured

in her forced wedding, saw that her kids were taken nonetheless and let go of any thoughts of really going against Maegor while they were hostages -- and thus had to live as hostage herself to her uncle for months

spent an entire year or so on Dreamfyre looking for Aerea when she ran off with Balerion or in a sort of guilt-desperate state...in spite of her condemnations of Aerea taking & bonding with her father's "killer" AND before that, yes "raged" but also not being able to sleep after Aerea's disappearance

Adding to how she has spent a long time apart from her own kids for their safety AND was already less inclined to want to interact with kids in general, her kids may have become "less" her own while she brooded over her other family. now you've got a very complicatedly angry and emotionally repressed person as a parent.

Yes, she eventually stifles Aerea in her anger at her siblings and mother, hatred for Rogar and refuses to even consider how the girl feels about her leaving what she thought of as home. Only to ignore her most of the time unless it is to yell at her for her disruptions and troublemaking. And her other daughter tells her that she might not have been a great mom, but she was glad to be her daughter if only to become a septa and "serve" the Mother (one of the Seven).

These are valid conclusions and worth being frustrated with her. I just hope that we're not looking at her as if she were an evil entity for the sake of being that way or because she was just selfish. I happen to think she was in the wrong time with the wrong people and no idea of how to get them to really acknowledge her own crap, so she chose to cope by ignoring them and barrel over her own emotions.

She seemed to already have the sort of inclination or predisposition where she compartmentalizes her feelings until the danger passes or when she's insulted. And the more times she gets insulted or put into danger, she claims up and tried to maintain her dignity. When someone asked her why she didn't cry over Aegon's death, how she "coldly" goes through the wedding when Tyanna insults her and brings out her kids, how she talks to Franklyn Farman, how she sullenly warns Jaehaerys about trusting the admiration or regard of the other lords as if she knew he wouldn't listen, and how she points out Jaehaerys' anxiety of her in the same tone.

So with each thing, she became more and more withdrawn while also seeking to keep what she thought she could keep close to her close even if they themselves began to either feel suffocated by her or felt they were losing pieces of their own life (Aerea [being heir presumptive and life built at KL] & Elissa Farman [her dream of being a seas-sailing adventurer]).

And a huge motivation for Elissa to leave Rhaena would have been Rhaena's private hurting her. Why stay & put off your dreams when the person you love has changed so thoroughly as to even (maybe, I headcanon) take it out on you? I don't hate Elissa for leaving Rhaena to start a new life...just for taking the eggs to do it when she knew that it would put Rhaena in a mess with her other family and even could disgrace her in the public eye.

All of Rhaena's self-suppression would come out, built up and vitriolic. And it's important to trace its development so we don't add to that dismissal or misjudge and simplify her.

I also find it fascinating how alike and different Aerea and her are and how they respond to the isolation both experience. Aerea, like Rhaena, grew up expecting to have one of the highest ranks and/or positions of power available in Westeros. Aerea also felt abandoned by her mother when she expresses to Alysanne how she did care her mom's friends died. Aerea also had many friends/acquaintances and was happiest around them. She, like Rhaena, regarded Elissa Farman as one of the most important persons to her and their loneliness, even with Aerea being the one to actually beg Elissa to stay while Rhaena let her leave the second time asking. Both are stubborn and become more and more sullen. And both mistreat others in their loneliness and trying to feel more in control against a relative: Rhaena against Alysanne and Jaehaerys by wanting Aerea back and Aerea throwing poop on Androw as well as pranking and harassing others. Aerea learns from Rhaena, but she eventually just does what Saera hopes she could have done and takes a dragon for her own freedom...tragically ending with her own painful death. While Rhaena did not die as painfully, she does die pretty much alone and miserable in her attempts to get back control. A little less sympathetically as she had more power over Aerea still refused to listen and communicate with her kids, but similar in intentions and thematically. It's also funny how like Jaehaerys she acted here, pushing away a daughter for her own selfish ends to never see them again. At the same time, it was only a matter of time before Aerea was pushed away and out of KL when Jaehaerys finally had children to become his heirs, as many expected and hoped for. As I said in the first section, Aerea was just Jaehaerys' heir "presumptive", not his "apparent" and he seemed very glad to foist her onto Rhaena. What sort of disappointment would Aerea have had if she had stayed and Jaehaerys had kids? Yes, they didn't know that Jaehaerys was fertile and would go on to have many children, but even Maegor would have had kids (if it weren't for Tyanna) the ever-present plans of a monarch and their subjects include children to be their heirs. Whether or not Rhaena felt and anticipated this and acted either for herself or for both her and her daughter or how much she really thought about her daughter's future for its own sake, I believe that it's cool to think about the probability that Aerea would eventually inherit Rhaena's frustrations of being passed over and abandoned, rejected on account of her gender.

Rhaena was a complicated woman. She already didn't have patience with kids but loved her own. She loved her family and was fiercely loyal, but after some abandoned her, she also always tried to claim some dignity for herself and forgot what it was like being a child and/or helpless in the process. Needed a partner who was either as bold or bolder than her, yet used her rank to overpower them into staying with her despite knowing sailing was her dream.

Comparison to HotD!Alicent

Why the comparison? Because I feel someone might bring this up if they took the time to brave my ridiculously long post AND HotD's Alicent also goes through sexual abuse and neglect or abandonment by family. Both's bad problematic behavior toward those they love or have loved comes directly from their abuses, some that stem from societal and familial misogyny. Both do not really consider their friend's/partner's (Rhaenyra and Elissa) needs or desires to feel less lonely or to make power moves. And Alicent of HotD is told to be wlw, if not lesbian.

However:

HotD Alicent is not well thought out as a character and has more internalized misogyny than Rhaena. Rhaena does not hurt her lover nor wife from wanting to deny her own womanhood, Rhaena has shown to be quite the opposite of a misogynist (threat to Rogar).

HotD!Alicent empowers her male relatives to hurt more people because she feels she has to as a woman basically totally succumb to patriarchal ideology even in her sending that damned note to Rhaenyra, while canon!Rhaena has been trying to keep and get power for herself in spite of the men around her.

Rhaena is not a simple queerbait wlw character, her relationships with women are not queerbait: her sexuality is believable as presented and her relationship with Elissa Farman is obvious because of the background information for both, how they got together, how Rhaena came into her own, why they were attracted to each other...it all is well written, coherent, consistent, and comprehensive.

She is smarter than HotD!Alicent and more aware of the motivations of others around her, and the politics around her as well.

Finally, Rhaena's core motivations remain clear and consistent. No compromising of self-respect while searching for constant, mutual love from her peers.

In other words, Rhaena's life and psychology are written way better and comprehensively than HotD!Alicent's AND she has way less internalized misogyny than Alicent.

Quotes

#1 ("The Sons of the Dragon")

#2 ("The Sons of the Dragon")

#3 ("The Sons of the Dragon")

#4 ("Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I") & ("Jaehaerys and Alysanne -- Their Triumphs and Tragedies")

#5 Rhaena & Jaehaerys about Dragonstone and Aerea ("A Time of Testing"):

#6 And then we have this moment of Rhaena seeing her daughter again after Maegor's gone ("Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I"):

#7 Her against Rogar and the Succession ("A Surfeit of Rulers"):

#8 Finally, what she says to Alysanne when she suggested taking Aerea back to KL ("Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I"):

#asoiaf asks to me #rhaena targaryen (aenys' daughter) #fire and blood characters #perfect victim post #rhaena targaryen (dreamfyre's rider)'s characterization #fire and blood #asoiaf

[saintsenara]

the shack at the end of the lane merope gaunt & lord voldemort general | 4.2k words

before the world went black, she was looking at two women's faces, and a small creature covered in blood, and the cracked plaster ceiling of a london orphanage.

when she opened her eyes, she was looking up at a perfect sky, its celestial blue splashed with cotton-wool clouds. the sun shone warm on her skin. she felt at peace for the first time since september, when tom had stormed out of their knockturn alley bedsit, taking care to kick her in the stomach as he did.

it was an unconventional choice, on the part of the universe, to make tom riddle's victims meet his mother the moment they arrived in the afterlife.

this piece was written for week five of @ladiesofhpfest, on the theme of unconventional and unashamed [you can find the masterlist for this week's fics here].

its star is a character who has fascinated me for a long time - merope gaunt - and the question i have always wondered about: what happened to her after she died?

author's notes under the cut

because merope’s death is one of the moments of the harry potter series that i’ve always loathed - not because it happens, but because it is explained by dumbledore in half-blood prince as something which happens as the result of a lack of courage:

"In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life." "She wouldn’t even stay alive for her son?" [...] "Yes, Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother’s courage."

i really dislike the suggestion that - under ordinary circumstances - a witch would be able to prevent herself dying in childbirth because of her magic, not least because of the implication in this statement - which is very much not what the series thinks it’s saying - that magical and muggle women are, essentially, separate species.

as merope tells us in the shack at the end of the lane, she died "like a woman" - one of the hundreds of thousands of women throughout human history who have died in childbirth for no other reason than that childbirth is dangerous. these women were not weak, they were not hopeless, they were not cruel to their children, they will have wanted to live. they were just profoundly unlucky.

and so, crucially, the merope of this story wanted to live for her son. it just wasn’t as easy as all that.

after her death, she wakes up in a place she had hoped she’d left behind her for good: little hangleton. the self-creating afterlife of the harry potter series is simultaneously comforting and whimsical and totally horrifying if one stops to think too long about it. in particular, if one stops to think about what it would mean for people whose life experience has made it difficult for them to have an imagination or to remember things or places which are pleasant to them.

merope is one of these people - not even able to imagine preston, one of the most ordinary towns in britain, as anything other than "formless white light", let alone paris or rome - and she therefore ends up stuck in a house which must have been a sight of extreme misery for her while she was alive. after all, the implication of canon is very much that she was or would be a victim of incestuous sexual violence at her father and brother’s hands. she is definitely a victim of physical and verbal violence. there can be no way at all that she felt happy in the gaunts’ home - and her experience is made all the more horrifying by the fact that - as i’ve noted in the notes for the snow child, another merope-centric piece - little hangleton more broadly is quite a terrifying place. the village lends itself really well to a sort of folk-horror vibe - perfect and bucolic and too quiet, with darkness lurking underneath its picturesque veneer.

but i wanted to play with this a little - and show how a place merope felt unwelcome in life becomes a home to her in death. the shack moves from being a liminal space into being a solid one: merope makes it into the space she wants, warm and colourful, and she bars morfin from it; it ceases to be a practical space - with a flower garden replacing a vegetable one - as soon as she can acknowledge that her existence is no longer purely about survival or service [for example, when she sleeps in a bed, instead of on the floor like a house elf]; the elements of folklore which were scary in the snow child become neutral here. the blackthorn trees, in particular, spend that story being symbols of ill-omen. in the shack at the end of the lane, in contrast, they should be read as having their second folkloric purpose - protection. [the magpies - one for sorrow, four for a boy - have no happier meaning.]

merope also learns to be happy more generally. the canon narrative tends to take quite a dim view of covetousness - a trait, after all, which gets her into this mess in the first place - not least in the way that it describes lord voldemort’s magpieishness. here, we see that this preference for trivial comforts is inherited, and that taking pleasure in things - such as merope’s shawl, her golden earrings, and the presents she buys for her son in the town - is neither wicked nor sad. sometimes a shawl is a shawl. sometimes it’s a burst of transformative pleasure.

and this idea of things changing ties into a wider theme in the piece - that merope proves herself to be capable of acceptance and redemption. her vicious jealousy of cecilia - tom riddle sr.’s attractive girlfriend - is a central part of the snow child, but here we see her coming to understand how that jealousy was futile, and resolving to manage with the body she has. her rape of tom sr. is a great evil - which, as we see, he’s never managed to get over - but there is a reckoning here as she realises that he was a victim of her instead of the other way round, and as she resists the urge to stroke his hair [as black as the raven’s wing, as she wishes for in the snow child] before she sends him off to a happy place where she cannot follow him. by the time albus dumbledore arrives to see her, she has accepted that tom was never really hers, and is confused when he insists on addressing her as "mrs riddle".

she also finds herself accepting - eventually - her son.

lord voldemort’s grief over merope is one of the most interesting parts of his characterisation, and one which the canon text touches on only lightly [harry notices, for example, that he is furious when hepzibah smith insults merope by implying she stole slytherin’s locket, but he then doesn’t contradict dumbledore when he says that hepzibah’s murder was motivated by gain]. merope’s absence in voldemort’s life manifests itself most clearly in the shack at the end of the lane in her encounter with bellatrix lestrange - as bellatrix tells her daughter’s grandmother that she likes the name merope, unaware that voldemort could never have suggested it to her because all of the evidence of canon is that he has no idea what his mother was called. it also features in the scene with the two dinners, in which the earth-bound tom riddle jr. has finally accepted that his father isn’t a wizard, and has begun his investigation into his maternal line - which will eventually cause him to leave the orphanage for good, sending his childhood room into the ether to await him when he dies. [my headcanon has always been that his limbo is the orphanage - so he has to have it here even though he’ll be living with his mam for eternity.]

merope takes a long time to cotton on to the fact that her son is a murderer - which i don’t think we can really blame her for; it’s quite an overwhelming concept. the dead we meet are both direct and indirect victims of his violence: the rabbit; amy benson [who died by suicide]; myrtle [my favourite]; tom sr.; hepzibah smith; a family of albanian peasants; mrs cole [worn down by dealing with tom]; regulus black; morfin [who wasted away in prison panicking about his father’s stolen ring]; james and lily potter; bertha jorkins; frank bryce [returning to the riddle house, where he was happy]; cedric diggory; barty crouch jr.; sirius black; igor karkaroff; dumbledore [who is kind enough to lie to merope, just for a bit]; colin creevey; lavender brown [in her glittery trainers]; vincent crabbe; fred weasley; severus snape; harry potter [but only temporarily]; nymphadora tonks and remus lupin; bellatrix; and - of course - voldemort himself.

and he’d been waiting a long time for that meeting.

and, look, i’m a hopeless optimist. i think everything will be alright in the end.

#asenora fics #merope gaunt #the shack at the end of the lane #let us contemplate death #lord voldemort #ascending to his final form: mammy's boy #dumbledore being subtle for once in his life #ladies of hp fest