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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year

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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 118- Opponents

Summary: Josie prepares for what should have been her first Thanksgiving with her King. She finds an ailing Narcisse and he clues her in about Catherine. An eviction is given. Josie is blown away by Legolas's appearance at the gathering. Narcisse's green eyed monster comes out and causes Jo and the Prince some trouble. Jareth is back with a vengeance. Raven fights for her life. An anticipated moment arrives.

*Warnings* Mentions of animal death, alcohol use, angst, language, violence

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Nov. 24

It was Thanksgiving and had been a week since you had last seen or heard from Garrett but that was not surprising since you pretty much made him feel like you never wanted to see him again...and at this point, you didn't. Your dreams of him and Raven, both at Lestat's and here now made sense. It was a future prediction of him sleeping with the enemy.

It had also been a week since you had seen Narcisse...and much longer since you last saw your dad. You were now becoming very worried about him. He wouldn't just leave you like this....like everyone does.

"Lola...is there a chapel of some sort here? I would like to go light a candle for Thranduil if there is one?"

"Yes Josie. It's on the first floor near the east wing."

"Thank you. I'll be back shortly to gather you both for the evening's feast."

The chapel must have been three times the size of Stephane's chambers and there were lit candles everywhere. You knelt down and lit one for your King, then began speaking to him as you cried.

"It's Thanksgiving and I'm here without you, my love. I am all dressed up for tonight's big feast and party and it's the last place I want to be. It is a time to be thankful and be with family, but it will never be the same without you. This would have been our first Thanksgiving together which makes it all the harder. Wherever you are, I pray you can hear me somehow. I know you are with me. I've seen the signs but I want more...I want you back....Please...please help me get through this. I am so lost...I have lost me without you."

You blew a kiss into the air for him and then went to leave. As you made your way to the exit, there was a small room off to the side with the door open. Inside was Narcisse just sitting there in a daze, appearing to be in some sort of distress.

"Stephane?" you softly said as you walked in, concerned for him. You decided you could get over the kiss he forced upon you... for now. "Are you...alright?"

"I don't understand how she could do it."

"She? Whom are you speaking of? Do what?"

"She...she killed my horse.."

"Wait...what?? Your horse...Arion? Who, Stephane?"

"Catherine, that evil vile woman...she killed him and fed him to me."

"Oh my god...ok... try to calm down and tell me what happened. Who is Catherine?" you asked and placed your hand on his shoulder.

"I am sure you will certainly meet her tonight. She's been back a few weeks but lingers in the dark corners watching me like the wicked witch she is."

"This...Catherine...she's a witch??"

Narcisse chuckled. "No...but her personality says otherwise."

"Wait....is this the woman I saw you embracing in the halls last week? and speaking to outside of the stables the day you and I went to your villa?"

"You saw her and I? Jo, I can explain that..."

"Stephane, what is there to explain? Except the fact you looked terrified of her."

"Yes...well...now you see why. She's a thorn in my side that I cannot get rid of."

"Is she....your um...partner?"

"She is...but unfortunately I cannot change that...I'm afraid."

"Narcisse, forgive me for saying so, but...why would you stay with a woman like that? This is your castle, your kingdom is it not? Why not just kick her to the curb?"

He laughed. "I love your terminology. You definitely shed some light on my darkened world Jo. If it were that easy, I would have done it ages ago. Catherine is like a disease with no cure. She has made it clear that what she did to my horse is nothing compared to what she is capable of and that, I do not take lightly. No one leaves Catherine and does not pay a hefty price."

"Then may I ask....why did you ever become involved with her to begin with?"

"As in all relationships, I did not know her well enough yet and well...my track record with my past wives wasn't any better. All these damn rumors make me out to be some kind of monster...contrary to what you may believe, I am not some soulless animal."

"Stephane...I...I never thought that you were."

"Even after I stole a kiss from you?"

"That does not make you soulless. I...I didn't know you had previous wives? Is Catherine your..."

"God no. I had two...both had passed away. Hence where the rumors began that I had killed them. They were arranged marriages by my father who's only goal was for me to produce an heir. I was young, only fifteen. I didn't know a thing about women or about love. My first wife died from the black plague and my second wife, from a miscarriage. She bled to death. After that, I had given up on being with anyone. My father had also passed so I did not have to worry about him forcing me into any more marriages and I told myself I would never marry again. Then many years later, I met Catherine. She was quite different then, or so I thought. Her jealousies and insecurities became very apparent soon enough and she has made my life a living breathing hell ever since. So you see, luck does not befall on me in the thing called love. I'm sorry...I rarely speak of these things."

"So...you've never been in love?"

"That...is a rare jewel I have yet to see..."

The way he looked at you with those beguiling blue eyes when he said that put you in some kind of feels.

"Well...If I had my powers, I would take care of her for you." you giggled, trying to get him to smile but it failed miserably. He stood right up.

"I appreciate the gesture Jo, but I need you to stay as far away from her as you can."

"And how do you propose I do that when she is staying here and will be at dinner this evening? And why? I have done nothing to her?"

"Oh but you have....she saw me kiss you....well, her spies saw us and informed her...and she knows about you being at my villa as well. In fact, I think it would be best if you took Legolas up on his offer and returned to Mirkwood. I would never forgive myself if she did something to you because of me. The weather is clear now, there is nothing keeping you here..."

"Stephane....I....I cannot go back there...you know this and you know why."

"Well I am sure Haldir would love to take you and Leean to Lorien with him. Any fool can see he's madly in love with you and you would be safe there just as you would in Mirkwood. Surely you didn't think you would remain here forever?"

"Well...no...but...ok maybe? I..I like it here...I thought...you liked having me here too?"

"Jo, you know I do. I do not want you to go but that is beside the point. I'll give you a few days to make arrangements. I am sorry Jo...I had no idea Catherine would be back so soon. If not for her....I...I would have loved to see your beauty in my presence every day...but some things...are just not meant to be."

Narcisse tried to keep his composure as he admired how absolutely stunning and sexy you looked in your party attire. To him, this seemed to be the hardest thing he ever had to do by letting you go.

"Wow, yes well, you certainly got that right..."

"Jo..I am not trying to hurt you...I.."

"No..it's fine Narcisse. I get it. What's one more person I care about disappearing too? I am more than used to it by now. So, I guess if you see my father who has also abandoned ship, you can let him know where I am at....when I figure that out...which I am going to go do right now. Happy Thanksgiving Stephane.."

"Jo..wait...please...I care about you too, that's why I am doing this!!" he shouted after you.

You kept going because tears were consuming your eyes and you were damned if you would let him see you cry over him.

You were all dressed up in a burgundy sleeveless and backless dress and heels, with no place to go but to the dining hall and try to find Legolas and Haldir. God you despised heels but it felt nice to feel pretty again. You dried your tears and quickly went back for Lola and Leean, the you all headed to the hall.

When you walked into the hall, you saw Haldir on the patio conversing, chalice deep in wine, who stuck out like a sore thumb with his platinum long beautiful strands and perfect braid that draped down the back of his head. The weather had done a 180 from sub zero temps to spring like weather and you certainly weren't going to complain about that.

As you walked up to him, you were trembling, trying to not break down. Being so very overwhelmed was an understatement.

"Hey." you squeaked and tapped his shoulder.

Haldir turned and his mouth dropped wide open as he unintentionally glanced up and down your body.

You giggled while fighting back the tears because all you wanted to do was hug him and not let go, but you refrained so as not to embarrass him.

He saw right through your fake smile and glistening eyes.

"Hey...my Jo...sweetheart....what is wrong?" he asked lovingly as he placed his hand on your face.

"I...I can't do this Haldir..." you whispered as a tear snuck out of your eye. "I...I need you...I need to talk to you."

"Follow me."

He took your hand and led you to a secluded corner in which you then threw your arms around him and broke down.

"Jo Jo...what can I do?"

"I...I may need to go back to Lorien with you...I..mean, if that's alright?"

"Jo...are you really asking me if it is alright? You know better than that. I have told you many times you are always welcome to come there with me.....but why are you mentioning this?"

"It don't matter why...I just wanted to make sure it was alright with you. It won't be for a few days yet, but I just think it will be for the best. I..I can't go back to Thransuil's halls...I just can't...and I...I cannot stay here anymore. Besides...Legolas needs to go back. He's the King now."

"Did I hear my name?"

Legolas walked in from another patio door, smiling at you. You forgot to breathe at the sight of him. The way the light shone on him, he looked like an angel. For a split second, you could have sworn he was Thranduil in his silver robe.

Thranduil had been wearing a very similar robe when you first laid eyes upon him....and all you could envision was that memory.

My god, he was so beautiful.....and so was Legolas.

Legolas's facial expression quickly matched yours when he saw you as well.

"Josie...my lady...I...I have never seen such a vision in my many millenniums."

You chuckled. "Legolas, you are too kind but surely you are exaggerating."

"Not in the least my lady. You are of true beauty that I cannot remove my eyes from."

"I am sorry Jo, but I must agree with Legolas." Haldir said with a grin.

"Yeah well, you both don't look too shabby yourselves."

Your eyes locked solely with Legolas's and it didn't go unnoticed by Haldir.

"My lady, may I escort you to the patio for a drink?" Legolas then asked as he extended his elbow.

"Lola, would you mind remaining inside with Leean? I think it's a bit too cool for her to be outside."

She smiled and nodded at you, then sat down and picked Leean up to hold her.

You turned back to Legolas and hooked your arm around his then proceeded to the people filled patio as Haldir followed, muttering a sarcastic sigh at Legolas for acting as if you were his date.

Narcisse was standing with some woman sipping on his wine diligently and all smiles. When he saw you attached to Legolas's arm, his smile melted into a frown.

Legolas poured you a glass of Dorwinion's finest and then himself.

"A toast...to the Queen, for you are something I am so very grateful for on this Thanksgiving day....and everyday before and for everyday to come after." Legolas sweetly said as he raised his chalice.

"I second that." Haldir agreed, raising his also.

"I third that." Narcisse cut in as he walked up raising his cup with a grin at you. He was clearly feeling pretty damn good on the spirits.

"So, Jo...did you decide on going back to Lorien with Haldir?"

Legolas's facial expression went completely flat as he stared at you.

"You are...what?"

"Can I speak with you??"

You grabbed Narcisse's arm and drug him off harshly.

"Did you just do that on purpose??! To make him upset with me?"

"It was a simple question Jo. Remember, we just spoke about it?"

"Yeah like only an hour ago! I have had no time to talk with Legolas yet and I am willing to bet you knew that. I saw you watching us just now. I don't know what kind of game you are playing, but I'm not your opponent like you called me and I will not tolerate you hurting Legolas or anyone I love, which I thought I had made perfectly clear to you already with my arrow pointed at your chest. You know, I just don't get you. One minute, you're kind and caring and the next, you're a full blown dick. I don't like games Narcisse."

"So you....love him now?"

"What?? I did not....do not twist my words or this conversation...and if I do, that is surely NONE of your business or anyone else's for that matter!"

"Point made and taken." he said in a cold tone then walked back to the two stunned elves who both heard the entire quarrel.

"If you'll excuse me, nature is calling. I think I have indulged in a bit too much of this fabulous vintage. After the feast, there will be dancing and games in the ballroom and festivities by the water, also...more drinking down in the cellar. Hope to see you all there. It's quite an afterparty." he said with a smirk and headed out."

"So it is true. You will not return to Mirkwood with me but will go to Lorien with Haldir..."

"Legolas...please let me explain...."

"I need to relieve myself as well."

The peeved Prince set his glass down and also left.

"Well...I can see this night is going to be just freaking lovely." you reeled and slammed down your wine.

Raven was on her way to see Thranduil again when something began to feel off in the forest....as if she were not alone. Almost a dozen of Jareth's wendigo's came out of the trees and circled about her. She closed her eyes to focus and then opened them, ready to start torching the beasts one by one.

Wings of fire blazed from her back and then she began blasting them.

Within seconds, she had wiped them all out but it had also wiped her out as she stumbled off.

She made it to Thranduil's door and collapsed against it, waking him at his desk where he had fallen asleep writing to you again.

"Who is there?" he asked as he cautiously approached the door.

"It...it's me. I..."

Raven's head fell against the door, almost passing out.

"What is wrong with you?"

"As...if..y...you care." she mumbled.

"I do not, it is true. It was a simple inquiry."

"Yeah...thanks...for that after all I have done for you."

"All that you have offered has been for your own gain so spare me your intended guilt stratagem, for my heart is as hard as stone when it comes to you."

"Keep shooting your mouth off Elvenking. After what I just endured, don't think I am not willing to just walk away and leave you to rot."

"Well well well...looks like you defeated my army of darkness." Jareth teased as he appeared out of nowhere.

Raven gasped and scurried back against the door.

"J...Jareth...where...have you been?"

He walked over and leaned on the wall, hovering over her.

"Don't you worry your deceiving little head about that. Did you really think I would not know what you have been up to? What is it with you that just cannot seem to be trained? All I have ever asked was for you to love me, but betray me and you would suffer...and yet that just has not sunk in. Here you are again, where I have ordered you not to be...playing with an elf...oh...and do not think I do not know of your indiscretions with the vampire either. The clothes you were wearing that you stupidly left in our room, reek of him. He too will pay a price for crossing me. I believe I have had it up to my wits end with you and you no longer serve me any purpose. Chance after chance I have given you which was one too many. Time is short and yours is up."

A clock magically appeared and he pointed at it, advancing the time as his fingers twirled in the air.

"Jareth...please...you...you hurt me...and you..left me all alone. I..thought you loved me? I...I can do better...I swear."

"No, I do not believe that you will. I hurt you because you defied me and you still did not learn your lesson. Now, I must do more...and it will only hurt for a few seconds, then it will all be over."

"Jareth no!! Please!!! I love you!!"

"You will say anything to spare your pathetic life. We both know you don't mean that."

Jareth glared at her as his eyes began to glow yellow. Raven threw her hands over her ears and began screaming in pain.

"I...I will...kill you..." Raven screeched.

"What's that? I can't hear you? I think you need to put that fire out that you're thinking of using on me."

Jareth placed his fingertips under her chin and her entire face began to freeze over with ice.

"There. That's more like it.. I have much of my mother's powers in me. She would be so proud right now. Too bad she isn't here to watch you freeze to death....and there's nothing you can do about it. Do you know why that is my love? Because you are weak."

Jareth's words echoed through her mind and enraged her, enough so that she was able to will her fire to the surface, melting the ice.

Jareth watched in disbelief as Raven stood up, free of his power....and now she was just flat out pissed. She cocked her head as if she were loading a gun, which instantly brought her fire out.

"I would choose wisely Raven. Have you forgotten that I have a fire in me much bigger than yours! You are no worthy opponent in this game!"

Thranduil's voice came through the hole in his wall as he watched with one eye.

"FIRE!" he barked.

Raven grinned and stared the wicked goblin king down with burning eyes.

"Time is short....and your is up." she snarled.

Her fireball promptly grew and then she shot it at him, causing a massive explosion and blowing Jareth through the air.

All was then quiet as Jareth laid still on the forest bed until Gollum came running out screeching.

"You dids it! You dids it my precious!! Ding dong the wicked king is deads!! Yes yes yes!!!"

"Don't be so sure of that." she proclaimed and went to check him. "And where the hell were you? Just watching as he was going to kill me?? you little chicken shit!"

"We has no powers! What were we supposed to do?"

"I don't know, maybe bite his ankles or something? Seems your style."

Gollum grinned. "Yes it is!! But NO! No! We couldn't do thats! Master would squash us like a bug or even worse, throws us into the bog of eternal stench!"

"How is that worse? You already smell like Jareth wiped his ass with you."

"Do either of you think you could hold your harrowing tongues and extract the gem?! I assure you he is not dead. Only the book of shadows can destroy him." Thranduil snarked.

'Yes!! The precious! We must gets it!"

"No wonder he wants it so bad." Raven muttered as she cautiously crept up to the unconscious Jareth after what Thranduil said.

She hesitated as she stood a foot away from him.

"Gollum...take the ring." Raven whispered.

"We won't takes the precious, you takes it!" he also whispered while cowering behind a tree.

"Take the ring!!!" Thranduil bellowed.

Raven jumped and gasped. She was startled so much that she dove forward and plucked the citrine gem from his finger without delay, then quickly returned to Thranduil's door and placed the ring on her finger.

"Before I free you from here, I want your word you will not kill me. No tricks, no games Elvenking!"

"What good with that do me. I still need the violin or neither of us will escape this evil realm with all that lurks within it." Thranduil indirectly answered and released a sinister grin because Raven was only a pawn to him and when she no longer served him a purpose, he would end her for all that she had done.

"Speak for yourself King. I can fly out, remember?"

"And Jareth will be right on your tail, unless he is detained by that which I intend to unleash."

Raven briefly dithered because she knew the Elvenking was one never to be trusted, but he was right. Jareth's dark kingdom and forces went on for miles and she knew she would never make it out before he captured her.

She put the ring on, closed her eyes and sighed....then placed her hand on the door. The ring lit up like the sun and the door made a click, then she slowly pulled it open as she trembled. All that was in view was his desk and the lit candle that was upon it.

"Th...Thra...Thranduil?"

@redeemer46

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freifraufischer · 2 years

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Nadia is who you want her to be...

One of the striking things watching the history of gymnastics play out through meets and exhibitions is how much the American media invested in making Nadia into an All American girl. She was very stoic and soft spoken that her answers in interviews could mean just about anything. ABC in particular invested quite a lot in the narrative of the little girl defying the evil Soviet Union but at no point in the Nadia craze does it appear to me that anyone wanted to know anything about the actual country of Romania.

It seemed to be enough that Romania was defying the dominating influence of the Soviet Union and it didn’t matter that Ceausescu’s Romania was doing so in order for the dictator to have yet more control in his country.

In 1984 ABC’s Wide World of Sports aired what was essentially a half hour American produced bit of Romanian state propaganda on her retirement. Including an unedited and uncommented on speech by Nadia about how one of the happiest moments of her life was being presented an award by Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu. After which they remarked about her sincerity.

We know that socialist Romania was one of the most oppressive states in the Eastern block but what was really striking to me was how many young American gymnasts talked about Nadia as if she was American in the 1980s. As if their lives had more than gymnastics in common with her.

After her defection there was a certain amount of talk about how horrible the government was (though even that was sanitized, the details of her adult life in Romania are pretty horrific and by all appearances Nadia seems to have suppressed a lot of her memories of that time and I don’t think it would be a kindness to try and force her to engage those memories). It’s notable that the narrative became that the government was evil and oppressing both Nadia and her coach Bela Karolyi.

(It should also be noted that basically anything you know about Karolyi and his role as her coach is likely pretty fictional)

Nadia grew up in a highly oppressive state where she made herself a blank slate that people could project what they want, both in the west and the Romanian state. And when she defected she did the same thing in interviews with the western media.

This has become awkward in recent years as a growing number of the women Nadia grew up with and competed with have come forward with horrific stories that counter her own mythology. She is forced to say that she can’t remember much of those times rather than confirm that the entire mythology about her that underpins her entire life was a lie. Whenever one of these interviews comes out with new horrific details, and it’s been happening every other year or so for a while, her fans are always shocked that she’s not supporting her former teammates. But having watched her life play out in this media I have to say I’m not surprised. Her time test coping strategy is to be someone people can project what they want on her and her answers to questions are always just enough for people to do that. She can’t answer questions about the Romanian gymnasts stories of abuse in that way. And I’m not sure she can answer anything in a public way any other way which results in these “I can only remember certain competitions from that time.”

But what I’m still left with is why it appears to me that no one in this world of sport or gymnastics seemed to want to know anything about Romania. Infamously in the 1990s NBC Olympic fluff implied that Romanian gymnasts lived in a castle on a mountain and I feel that is the space Nadia occupied as well. A fairy tale. It makes me think about East German figure skater Katarina Witt whose relationship with the secret police has been the subject of a lot of western press where as the relationship between Nadia and the Romania state security apparatus is left to books written in Romanian and never translated.

The western audience doesn’t want to know. And perhaps the reason Witt is different is that she herself sought out and has talked about the thousands of pages of her Stasi file and her own sense of betrayal after she had given the state everything they asked for and they still wanted more.

Nadia is just not capable of sharing that kind of inner life. And I’m not sure given what we do know now that anyone should press her for it. But I do question why media in the 1970s and the 1980s who were perfectly capable of knowing they were broadcasting Romanian state propaganda did so without comment. I’m less puzzled about why so many young American children treated the mythological Nadia like she was just like them. The media--particularly ABC--told them she was. They showed her house full of dolls and broadcast pictures of her in Mini Mouse sweatshirts. And when the narrative shifted after her defection to how bad it was in Romania no one had to answer for the fact that they were telling a different story only a few years earlier.

#nadia comaneci #gymnastics

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dustedmagazine · 1 year

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Chris Liberato's 2022 favorites

Photo of Courtney Marie Andrews by Chris Liberato

2022 got off to an unusually slow start for me, as far as connecting with new music. Fortunato Durutti Marinetti’s Memory’s Fool, released in March, was both the first record that grabbed me and the one that I returned to most often. To give you an idea of what it sounds like, imagine if Robert Forster grew up listening to Bill Callahan/Smog, and made a record with Robert Wyatt producing, and you’ll be pretty close. Right up there at the top of my most-played pile, next to Fortunato, is Courtney Marie Andrews’ Loose Future, which didn’t come as much of a surprise to me given how hard I fell for her last one, the stunning Old Flowers. Although, getting the chance to see her and her band perform the Loose Future material live last fall (more on that below) definitely helped seal the deal.

A couple of records that did surprise me, in terms of how much time I ended up spending with them, were the latest Jeanines, Don’t Wait For A Sign: a pure comfort listen whenever I needed it this year, which was often. And Free Time’s Jangle Jargon, which barely made a blip in the indie world but seems like it would appeal to Destroyer fans — the way it evokes that project’s Thief and Streethawk eras — and definitely fans of Twerps, whom they uncannily resemble on standout track “That’s Rare,” and whose former frontman Marty Frawley guest stars on the album. It’s an addicting one. I also want to give a special nod to the Morteza Mahjubi compilation, Selected Improvisations From Golha, Pt. I, even if it might not fully qualify as a 2022 release (it was released digitally and on cassette in 2021, with the vinyl ultimately landing this year). I discovered it via a Steve Gunn tweet in November and it’s since become my go-to morning record — equal parts ghostly and jaunty, improvised piano pieces from 1950s/60s Iranian national radio broadcasts that are sure to get your bones rattling.

I also saw more live music in 2022 than I have in years, both for obvious Covid-related reasons and because I decided I needed a break from school, and therefore had more time and energy than usual to make it happen. Of the shows I caught, my favorites were Quivers, who made it over from Australia in support of last year’s glorious Golden Doubt, and Courtney Marie Andrews, who played to an adoring, capacity crowd at Cambridge’s Middle East in early November. Something these two acts had in common was an obvious love of playing music with their respective bandmates, which translated into an infectious onstage energy, in both cases, that left me feeling a lot lighter at the end of the night. Picking a favorite single moment is easy: it was the absolutely devastating centerpiece of Andrews’ set, “Near You,” a song I wasn’t familiar with prior to the show but which left a raw, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that I can still viscerally recall (you know, in a good way). In a very different way, catching Kraftwerk and their synchronized screen show at The Wang Theater ruled, too. As did seeing Berlin resident Ned Collette, not once but twice, after catching Collette fever last Spring when I picked up the reissue of his debut, Jokes & Trials, and subsequently deep diving into his back catalog.

But that’s enough out of me. So, without further adieu, here are the records I enjoyed the most this year. If we reviewed the record here at Dusted, or I covered it in a different context elsewhere, I made sure to link to it.

Courtney Marie Andrews — Loose Future (Fat Possum)

Michael Beach — 2022 EP (Goner)

Blue Ocean — s/t (Dandy Boy)

Jackson Reid Briggs — Out Of Line EP (Self-released)

Thomas Bush — Preludes (Mamma’s Mysterious Jukebox)

Laura Cannell — Antiphony Of The Trees (Brawl)

Sarah Mary Chadwick — Flipped It (Kill Rock Stars)

Chronophage — s/t (PPM)

Ned Collette — Jokes & Trials (Feeding Tube/Sophomore Lounge) REISSUE

Loren Connors — Airs (Recital) REISSUE

Exek — Advertise Here (Castle Face)

Field School — When Summer Comes (Bobo Integral)

Fortunato Durutti Marinetti — Memory’s Fool (Soft Abuse/Bobo Integral)

Free Time — Jangle Jargon (Bedroom Suck)

The Glass Picture — s/t (Chapter)

Lande Hekt — Romantic / Octopussy (Emotional Response)

Jeanines — Don’t Wait for a Sign (Slumberland)

Jeanines — Latest Light / After All (Market Square)

Alicia Jeanine — Demos (Self-released)

Kitchen’s Floor — None Of That (Petty Bunco)

Morteza Mahjubi — Selected Improvisations from Golha, Pt. I (Death Is Not The End)

The Orchids — Dreaming Kind (Skep Wax)

The Reds, Pinks and Purples — Summer at Land’s End (Slumberland)

The Reds, Pinks and Purples — They Only Wanted Your Soul (Slumberland)

The Stroppies — Levity (Tough Love)

Ben Woods — Dispeller (Shrimper/Melted Ice Cream/Meritorio)

Chris Liberato

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the-firebird69 · 4 months

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U-Haul crashes police car during chase in West Palm Beach Florida

This is what's happening these people are losing and it's sort of know they're losing but Garth knows he's losing everything. Most of the stuff is not here but he is sitting here saying it is and not doing anything and he will sit here until it's all gone and that's how it is.

He's getting shot at and he is not doing well he got shot at yesterday he got shot at today and he's always running from the law and he's always breaking the law and he's a judge in New York City and seems to be a big fag but really we don't want to hear anymore from people who are doing their own thing and they're bigger than us they get caught every day or killed every day and come back and vegetable I'm tired of hearing from idiots so the max are under attack and pretty soon they're going to be like these idiots and as I said we're not keeping up with it there's too many people who are senile from all this s*** in the water. We need to get our people out and we need to run missions now. We need to do this.

Thor Freya my son is wondering if you were to move around if it would help and what we were thinking is that might make it worse and we'd like to test that

We were thinking about that and for a while and we started studying it and we do know what it is and it is coming up

Frank Castle hardcastle

We know the effect it's like the effect of Jen or Mop or the Jersey girl Amanda and Robin the little blonde they think is Gaga oops and he said oops and she's smiling and laughing and he says success. And he's his kids write down one of his jokes and he says okay we're starting to see how this goes. So he's having trouble recalling things and points and he's a mess here. But we know what it is and we know the effect is it's similar and we're going to have to use it we are also going to condition red here the pseudo empire. And they are building up in several locations and in the third ring and to invade in military uniform several units have been seeing the inside Charlotte county. And it is big we'll go through the numbers

-Sarasota they have formed a avenue from the first ring is about 3 miles wide all the way to the seashore to the west and it is due West and they want to expand south and north and fill up the tube and just keep going and not care about where people go to

-Tampa they have done similar they have a tube about 4 MI wide and it's filling with men and hardware and marching in it's not exactly straight but it's due west from the first ring which is about 70 miles from shore it is too short now and it's widening about 8 Miles downtown Tampa it's a nightmare there that's not as lucky he doesn't have a car

-fort Myers there's a tube that goes from the first ring and I do West to South Myers and to shore it's about four miles wide and it is widening now in South fort Myers 8 miles on the shore 6 mi at the outskirts and it is going north and south and filling with troops military troops light arms and choppers some missile launchers tank busters and they have some tanks and trucks and transports and a lot of Humvees thousands of pieces of equipment alerts went out all over and they sent them all over the world and they have to people have left surreptitiously to send the message

-south south of fort Myers the very south they're heading north and they're forcing people into the middle there's heavy gunfire down there it's heavy. So far they are 20 mi north of the bend in the southern route to Miami about 30 miles will be at the 75 and they're heading up with heavy 45 ft tanks 50 ft tanks 60 ft tanks and up to 80 ft trucks full of equipment and Men ammo an ordinance from the East again the third ring in Charlotte county it is filling and that ring is 5 miles wide about 20 miles from the north and then you go south and you go North to 20 miles they have about 80 miles in the middle it's going to be full of men and hardware this is a disaster and you keep saying it we can't let him do this what are we doing and I will tell you let's see who I understand it by repetition we should not be doing this that's what they'll say later but here it goes we are living a little bit much he is afraid of debris and he needs a slate roof and it would be in style a terracotta colored roof with concrete he looked at the price and it's really twice as much as said no way it's supposed to do the roof this coming week someone said it that's what we thought..

-in general the numbers half million to the South and to the far south half a million again to the third ring the North and South brigade equals a half million, going into Sarasota 2 million and that's what we expect and going into Tampa 5 to 10 million reinforcements are coming they'll be here in 15 to 20 minutes those numbers will double you see the clones mobilizing they're coming out of ships that are nearby on the ocean they're coming out of the saucers. They are moving it.

We will have to publish so we're going to publish this

Duke nukem Blockbuster

Olympus

0 notes

minniepetals · 3 years

Text

Rose & Thorns: 10

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: dragon!bts x reader

— genre: angst / slight fluff / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 8.0k

— warnings: none

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

You stood in the hall of the castle on the left of Namjoon while Hoseok stood on his right, faces grim and serious as you could feel all eyes on you with the intriguing fact that a Keeper was in their clan, a Keeper the clans haven’t had since hundreds of years ago. None of them were alive to live through the years when the first Keeper had been chosen so to know that another Keeper was made was quite fascinating to them, you were sure.

But you could also tell that some dragons still doubted your loyalty, knowing fully well how many of them did not have good histories with your kind. But you weren’t going to let them faze you. Namjoon often reminded you to look confident no matter how much they may scare you. After all, looking small and vulnerable in front of the dragons would only give them more doubt and you knew you had to gain their trust and show them that you were capable of being a Keeper more than anything.

As the steps of the leader of the Southern Clan began to echo into the room and the whispering voices died down, Namjoon took his respective bow with you and Hoseok automatically following along, heads lowered in respect as you stared at the floor below you.

It was nerve wracking being in a room full of dragons you had never seen before but you knew you had to remain strong.

“Prince Namjoon.” Surprisingly the voice was light and friendly as the prince spoke your leader’s name. He rose upon the call of his name with you and Hoseok following and could see the kind smile prince Daesung was giving him. “Welcome to our Clan.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon gave him a short nod before his gaze fell to Hoseok.

“Prince Hoseok.”

“Your highness.”

“And,” he turned his head your way and the moment his eyes met yours, you could see the way his eyes widened a little, falling silent at the sight of you with a delicate hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Oh my,” he whispered in a small gasp, blinking one moment before breaking into a bright smile that practically lit up the entire room and the next thing you knew he had rushed in front of you with his hands grabbing ahold of yours, squeezing it tight. “You didn’t tell me she was so adorable!” The prince squealed with delight, surprising you with a sudden embrace that caught you off guard and your eyes were quick to dart to your dragons with a flustered expression plastered onto your face.

The way their eyes darkened slightly almost brought shivers down your spine.

“Human girls are the cutest thing ever! I can’t believe I’m finally meeting one in real life!! Tell me!” He backed away just enough to face you again as you could feel yourself blushing at how close he was. “Keeper of the Dragons, what is your name, dear one?”

“U-uh,” you stuttered, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the close proximity but knowing not to be rude in his presence, “Y..Y/N.”

You thought his eyes had lit up even more. “What a pretty name! You’re so—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Hoseok quickly stepped in to grab you by the shoulder and pulled you back to his arms with a displeased look on his face. “Prince Daesung. Whether she is a human or not, you must remember that our Keeper is still a lady.”

“Oh my.” Totally ignoring Hoseok’s warnings, prince Daesung could only wiggle more with excitement as his eyes returned to you again. “I know jealousy when I see it and I must say, to woo the seven princes of the East Clan is quite a bold move of yours, precious Y/N.”

“Huh?” You began to panic as your hands came up to wave with denial. “No, I-I didn’t—”

“Not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing. I would do the same if I had the pretty looks you do. How’d they find such an adorable face such as yourself? Or did you find them first? I’m sure these possessive dragons stole you away to make you fall in love with them, didn’t they?”

“W-wait! They didn’t—”

“Prince Daesung, stop teasing the little one already.” Namjoon let out a tired sigh.

“I can’t help it!” The prince chortled with a sly grin. “She’s even more pretty when she blushes so easily like that.”

You could see his followers looking away or hanging their heads in shame at their prince’s words and you realized that you were totally baited by the South Clan’s leader, making you even more embarrassed than before.

As if reading your thoughts, Hoseok gave you a squeeze. “Don’t worry. Prince Daesung likes to spew nonsense so don’t take him too seriously.”

Offended, prince Daesung gave out a dramatic gasp. “Rude!”

“Forgive me for the impolite behavior of my dear brother.” You turned at the sound of the voice that was laced with poised to find a young lady a few feet taller than you. She had her head bowed with a hand rested against her heart, showing both grace and a dignified manner and you could tell almost immediately who she was after learning a few things about the South Clan. “Are you alright, milady?” Princess Soyeon asked with a slight concern as she addressed you.

“Yes, your highness,” you told her with a small smile, a bit taken back by how different the two siblings were.

She returned the smile with her own before turning to her brother with a displeased glare. “Not only is Y/N a lady but she is also the sole Keeper of the Dragons. You cannot disrespect the lady like that.”

Her scolding made prince Daesung look away with a pout. “You cannot expect me to ignore the cute.”

“Would you like to feel the wrath of our neighboring princes as well?”

Though the prince did not respond to that as he refused to meet his sister’s glare, you cocked your head slightly to the side with confusion upon her words. “Wrath?”

Princess Soyeon looked back at you with softer eyes and a faint smile as she eyed your two princes. “Us dragons are very possessive creatures. If anyone tries to touch our treasures, it may turn into conflicts. They may not look like it but I am sure prince Namjoon and prince Hoseok weren’t exactly fond of my brother touching you.”

You looked over your shoulder at the two of them who stood tall behind you and found Namjoon meeting your eyes with a slight raise to his brow almost as if confirming the assumption of the princess, making your cheeks warm up again.

“Again, please forgive my brother. I will make sure he does not do anything to offend you again.”

“Ah, it…” you shook your head with a smile, “it’s alright.”

“Now then,” with a sudden clap echoing into the large room, prince Daesung began to dismiss the members of his clan. “You’ve gotten a good look at our dear Keeper and see that she is a beautiful lady and anyone beautiful is worth trusting so—”

“Our relationship with the Eastern Clan is clear enough to show that we have no reason to mistrust them,” princess Soyeon stated in a loud, clear voice as she totally ignored the voice of her brother who responded with a glare of his own. But even though she had interrupted him, he let her go on to address the crowd. “We all know that the only way a human can become a Keeper is through the will of our own ancestors and we know never to question their decisions. If they have chosen Y/N as the new Keeper of the Dragons then that is the decision that we must accept. If anyone has any problem with that, know that you will be going against our own ancestors.”

Her voice, so poised and filled with charisma, was enough to let her warriors know that she wasn’t going to tolerate anyone that would go against having you as their Keeper and for that, you felt so thankful to the princess.

Once the room finally cleared away and all that was left were the five of you along with a few trusted warriors of the Southern Clan, you knew it was all business now.

“Your highnesses,” Namjoon began and it was enough to let the princess understand what he wanted to discuss.

She turned to follow her brother as she spoke and the rest of you followed along to their steps. “I am sure you must be wanting to discuss the agreement between the three clans upon accepting the Keeper.”

“That’s correct,” he gave a firm nod.

You walked beside Hoseok, silently listening in as your nerves began to reappear once again. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy even if the South Clan seemed friendly but you hoped things would work out well in the end.

“The other clans may not be as lenient but we do not plan on using Y/N for all of the wars that will be fought in the future,” she was quick to assure. “Whether she is a Keeper or not, we will not lay so low as to use someone outside of our clan as a tool in order to fight our wars.”

“Besides,” chiming in, you met the eyes of the prince as he looked over his shoulder for a brief moment and sent you a smirk, “who would want to send a beautiful lady into the battlegrounds?” He turned back again, sounding a little more exasperated this time. “However, we all know prince Hyungwoo and prince Seojoon aren’t going to be as kind as us.”

As the door to a room opened up, you all walked into their meeting hall and immediately took your seats in order to continue discussing.

“The princes of the North and West know not to reject a Keeper but you must be prepared for what challenges they will have you facing.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side at princess Soyeon. “Challenges?”

“To see how powerful you can be.”

“They won’t do anything unethical now will they?” Hoseok frowned.

“If they realize the little one has joined your little circle of lovers then perhaps they will take not offending you more into account,” prince Daesung opined with a light shrug. “But the two of them are quite unpredictable, especially prince Hyungwoo of the North, so it’s best to keep your guard up. Prince Seojoon is rational but it’s hard to please that man.” He propped his elbow upon the grand table, resting his chin onto his hand as he looked at you with sympathetic eyes. “Be careful, dear Y/N, dragons can be quite prideful and if someone comes in to threaten their position in this little game of ours, it can get a little nasty.”

You could feel a shiver running down your spine but it fell away too soon as you felt Hoseok’s hand suddenly holding yours. When you turned your head towards him, he graced you with a kind smile. “There’s no need to be afraid, we’ll be right there with you,” he whispered softly, allowing your heart to relax again.

“Major wars do not occur very often,” princess Soyeon added truthfully, “and if they do, we often deal with it on our own with our own dragons. But if there is ever an emergency that forces us to seek help, I hope that you will allow us to call for you.”

“Of course,” you gave her a firm nod with a determined gaze. “I will be prepared for the day I am asked to help fight the wars.”

She returned the nod just as firmly before letting herself relax just for a moment to spare you a small smile. “Thank you, Keeper, and thank you princes of the East for finding her.”

It was their unquestioned trust in you that made you believe in yourself more.

“What are you thinking about?”

The prince had allowed your stay in the South as the sun was already beginning to set by the time the meeting was over and as you sat on the grand bed prepared for you and your princes, Namjoon took a seat beside you after changing into proper sleepwear, wondering why you looked so distant all on your own.

You didn’t want to bother them with your concerns so you shook your head lightly with a faint smile thrown his way to try and ease the tension that hadn’t faded from the moment the three of you left the Eastern mountains.

“Right now it feels just right to take up prince Daesung’s offer to stay here a while longer and postpone our travel plans for the West and North, doesn’t it? I know you’re anxious,” Hoseok said with a wry smile as he went on to sit beside you on your other side.

“But,” Namjoon took ahold of your hand and placed it on top of his palm where it rested upon his lap, and began to rub small circles on the back of your hand as a way of comfort, “I know you miss the others and cannot wait to go home.”

How was it that they knew you so well? You could still recall those moments when they couldn’t trust a word you said and had treated you poorly but looking at them at this moment, you could find nothing but love in their eyes and that alone warmed your cold, anxious heart.

“It hasn’t even been a day,” you lamented as your eyes cast down to the gentle hands that were still caressing yours. “I miss them so much.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok said in a soft manner as he thought back to that morning the three of you took your leave and placed an arm over your shoulders with a small squeeze. “It isn’t often we go our separate ways outside of our lands.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Namjoon said, nodding. “There are some of us who haven't even seen the world outside our own lands despite being princes.”

Your eyes widened a bit at the revelation. “No way. Who?”

“Jimin and Taehyung.”

“Why is that?”

“Jimin looks after our prisoners, as you know, so it really doesn’t matter much to him because he’s sadly almost always in the dungeons. As for Taehyung, the younger one has to look after the little ones so he doesn’t get out much either,” explained Hoseok. It made sense, you should have known of those facts before they even told you but it still made it sad to be able to hear of the two of them being stuck in the clan everyday.

“So what are the occasions when traveling outside our lands?” You asked them.

Namjoon gave you a small grin. “Well for one, meetings like these. But I have meetings with the clan leaders every full moon. Usually Yoongi will accompany me on those nights. That’s why some days we go missing and are nowhere to be found inside the clan. Seokjin travels if he needs to find special herbs or wishes to learn more about plants and remedies that don't exist on our lands.”

“Those are what he calls his errands,” Hoseok said almost in a whisper as he sent you a wink, causing your mouth to form into a little circle at the epiphany.

“That’s why he takes so long and sometimes comes back so late? I would have loved to accompany him on those journeys.”

They both shared a chuckle.

“You’ve had some bad encounters when leaving the clan, I’m sure hyung only left you out for your sake,” Hoseok explained gently as he stroked your hair before proceeding on. “Jungkook and I sometimes have to do secret patrols that take place outside our lands. Only a very few of us know of that though. They’re sort of like secret investigations to get information on whether a smaller clan will be wanting to rise against us or not in order to prepare for or avoid any future wars.”

“But as you can see, we’ve managed to avoid war for a long time now.”

“Though it doesn’t guarantee the fact that we won’t be going to war again at all.”

As you stared down at your lap, the distressed look on your face made the mood drop as your two princes shared a look of understanding, knowing exactly what you are worried about.

Namjoon lightly squeezed the hand that he held onto as he began to speak again. “I know I cannot promise you that there will be no wars in the future and that even if there is a war that does not concern our clan, you may be called in to be involved as Keeper, but I can promise you that you will never be alone.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes just thinking about the wars that you all would have to face in order to protect your own people.

But Namjoon did not back away from your fear and held onto a gentle smile. “Perhaps it may not be enough to just tell you that you will not be alone but I speak for all of the dragons in our clan when I say this, Y/N. Whether it is a war fought for our own lands or a war you will be called into as Keeper for the other clans, our dragons will be right behind you guarding you at all sides. As a follower, as a friend, as a lover, and as dragons of the Eastern Clan. We are here for you.”

Upon those words that were given unto you, you knew that you could trust them with your life just as you trusted the two of them. It had been a long journey from the moment you and Jungkook escaped your old village and flew into their clan. Many things happened but as time changed, so did their hearts. You were a trusted keeper now, a human your clan believed in without a doubt so it was your turn to put your faith in them.

The journey beyond was still long but you knew you’d be alright as long as they were by your side.

“I love you,” you confessed and their eyes softened.

You were held in between the two of them, huddled so close, making you feel safe and sound and that alone allowed you to believe that everything would be alright.

“Greetings to the prince of the Western Clan.”

The air felt thicker, more tense than it was during that moment where you stood tall in front of the Southern Clan. The Western Clan was not as friendly looking as the Southern Clan but you knew that they valued law and order so although a part of you was filled with anxiety standing before the prince, you also understood that prince Seojoon wasn’t going to be someone who would judge someone that easily just because of their descendants.

“Greetings to the princes of the Eastern Clan,” he returned the formal bow, face as expressionless and as stoic as you’d been warned about. When he turned to look your way, you couldn’t tell what was on his mind. All you knew was that what he saw before him was a simple human girl claiming to be the Keeper of the Dragons.

What did he think of you? Perhaps in his eyes you looked like a frail, weak, human girl who should have never associated herself with the dragons.

It was hard being tested back in the Eastern Clan itself when you first arrived. Many of the dragons hated you at the time but you never let it get to you and tried your best to do what your heart had told you to do. Whether the dragons would accept you or not, you just had to continue doing the job you were meant to do with a golden heart.

If you show weakness, if you let their words and judgement hurt you, you would only look like someone who was not worthy of the Keeper title and that was something you knew you absolutely could not do. You couldn’t taint the reputation of the Eastern Clan, you couldn’t let the other clans shame them. If Namjoon gave you that title because he believed in you and the dragon ancestors accepted you then you had to live up to all of their expectations no matter how unclear the journey before you may lie.

When you greeted the eyes of prince Seojoon whose face revealed no sign of anything, a part of you was still afraid. But you kept your head held up high and perhaps because of that strong facade, his expression did not harden when he met your eyes.

“Keeper.” His voice was rather normal. No tone of disgust, no amount of hatred bleeding through the tip of his tongue. He greeted you as if you were an equal with a short bow and a small nod of acknowledgement.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be seen as something special but you knew and many of the dragons knew that that itself meant that prince Seojoon wasn’t going to reject you as the Keeper.

“Seojoon.” At the call of his name falling out of Namjoon’s lips, the Western prince returned his focus back on the leader of the Eastern Clan.

For a moment all was quiet and tense as the two of them stared at one another as if sending telepathic messages to each other with looks alone. You stood there beside Hoseok, waiting for one of them to break the long silence but it seemed as if none of the two were willing to do so.

You didn’t know much about the history between the two princes nor understood much of what their relationship was but what you did know was that between the two leaders of the Eastern and Western Clan, though they may have once fought from time to time long before Jungkook was captured by your former village, the two of them had this silent mutual respect for one another.

And perhaps that was one of the reasons why prince Seojoon was willing to be the one to break first.

“I was surprised when I received your letter, Namjoon,” he began without so much of a blink in his eyes. “Out of all the crown princes who have taken their positions on the thrones, I never thought you out of the four of us would choose to trust a human and grant them the title of a Keeper. In fact, I always believed you to be the last one to ever be willing.”

Standing tall and proud with no sign of remorse, Namjoon spoke with the same resolve. “It is true that my actions were indeed unexpected but my decisions were not made solely on feelings alone.”

“You are not one to easily trust a human,” the Western prince acknowledged, “so I will trust in the decision you have made. The ancestors have, as it seems, deemed her worthy of the position. However, that does not mean I will blindly put my faith in someone I do not know. Until the Keeper can prove her worth, I will be on the neutral side on neither accepting nor refusing the new Eastern Clan member.”

Prove your worth.

He wanted you to prove your worth as a Keeper in order to accept you as someone needed in the dragan clans. You weren’t sure how to do that, you weren’t even sure how you were going to be someone of good help to the four major clans. Namjoon believed in you and so did the other six, but at the moment their support did not mean much until you could find the strength within yourself to accept the role.

Prince Seojoon was right, you had to prove your worth. But not just for the clans but for your own self as well.

The past years have always treated you horribly, a human woman who had no place anywhere with no purpose in life. Now that you were given such a high honor and set at the center of the dragons, the new profound responsibilities could only make you feel as if you were just another outcast again.

No.

Your princes believed in you and they’d go through any lengths to make sure you were safe and protected. They gave you a place in their clan, cared for you, and made sure everything was alright. It was time to stop hiding in their shadows and prove that you were indeed worthy of such an honorable title and be the one to protect instead.

You were a Keeper now. There was no time to dwindle and convince yourself otherwise.

Seeing the resolve in your eyes rather than shrinking in fear and hiding behind the princes of the Eastern Clan, prince Seojoon was a bit taken back by your strong gaze.

But...it wasn’t a look that he did not exactly hate.

Not bad, he thought, and hid the small look of approval behind his cold exterior.

“Your highness.”

Prince Seojoon stopped walking and turned slowly to find the Keeper who had not spoken even once during his audience with the Eastern Clan’s arrival. You bowed before him in a formal and elegant way, a voice too gentle and soft for a supposed warrior who would eventually have to be used in upcoming battles with the dragons, but he allowed himself not to judge someone based on the exteriors alone.

“What is it, Keeper?”

At least he was calling you by your title, you thought, and let out a hidden sigh before facing the prince with a dignified stance.

“I understand that the relationship between humans and dragons is not a strong one, but I also do not conceive of you as one who would wrongfully judge others based on the fact that I am human alone.”

“You do not, huh?” He replied with the same seriousness as you have written on your face.

“Forgive me if I am overstepping my boundaries but prince Namjoon himself has told me that you are one who sees the person before him as what they are as you see before your eyes. Neither past, race, gender, nor what they were born as will sway your mind into thinking otherwise.”

“And what are you to do with that information?”

You held your head high and met his eyes without falter, keeping in mind the words Namjoon had warned you about with how prince Seojoon did not like it when one spoke about proving oneself while cowering before his eyes. “If me proving my worth to the dragons is all that you want from me, then I will do all that I can to become a warrior that is worthy to everyone. I hope that someday you can faithfully put your trust in me as Keeper of the Dragons.”

Prince Seojoon took a moment to reply, the silence between the two of you lingering while you refused to back down upon his hard gaze otherwise he would never take your words seriously.

After a short while, he finally gave you a firm nod. “I trust that you will keep your words.”

“Yes, your highness.”

With that, the prince watched you walk away while he stood there, beginning to understand just a little bit of why the princes of the East have decided to keep you by their sides.

A brave soul, kind and gentle, but unaware of the power you held as a Keeper. One day you’d find your strength and courage walking into future wars that would call for you.

Like a rose who had yet to make use of her thorns.

“What are you worried about, hm? I’m pretty sure you just passed his test.”

“Test?” Your head was quick to perk up upon Namjoon’s words though those eyes of yours were still filled with an unspoken anxiety that kept weighing down your shoulders. “What are you talking about, Namjoon?”

“Seojoon isn’t as cruel as he portrays, he’s just a bit strict and serious when it comes to the future of the dragons.”

“You would know, you’re just like him,” Hoseok commented as a side remark, causing the leader to roll his eyes while you let out a small chuckle.

Hearing that, Namjoon’s brows furrowed as he sent you a pout. “You agree?”

There he was, a prince who was always seen as a strict leader to all, showing you a cute pout. “Well you were quite hard on me when I first walked into the clan,” you reminded the prince, causing him to let out a dry laugh.

“Right,” he cringed, not entirely liking the images of those memories walking into his head. Those days weren’t the greatest and they regretted it more than you could ever imagine but telling you those thoughts would only bring more weight on your shoulders and that was something they absolutely couldn’t do. So rather than dwelling on the negative thoughts, he approached the subject with a light tone. “If someone like me can be swayed into trusting a human once again, then Seojoon would have no problem following my footsteps.”

“Mhm,” agreed Hoseok, “Prince Seojoon is rational when it comes to judging people.”

“All you have to do is be yourself. He likes authenticity more than anything so you have no problem there.”

“I’m just,” you let out a soft sigh as you went on to hug yourself, head falling to the floor, eyes dropping with worry, “how do I prove my worth when I can’t even master my abilities as a Keeper yet?”

You felt arms wrapping themselves around you in a gentle manner, holding you close to his chest, and a soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head. “Wielding ones’ power takes time and patience but I know this, and Hoseok and the other five back at home know this.” He looked down into your eyes with a strong gaze of confidence and encouragement, meeting those anxious ones headstrong. “You can do it, Y/N. If you can turn your back on the village that was supposed to be your past, present, and future but failed you, if you can turn a blind eye on myths and legends about hideous monsters like us, if you can lend your strength towards the one that was meant to be your prisoner, rescue him, and still stay in a clan full of dragons that openly showed their distaste in you. If you can be framed for someone else’s wrongdoing, get locked up in the dungeons for months, then survive a fall off a high cliff with someone who didn’t even appreciate you and injuries all over your body...My love, you can do absolutely anything.”

“I mean look at yourself, pretty girl.” Taking your hand to pull you away from Namjoon, Hoseok held your hand in the air to twirl you around right there in the middle of the guest room. “Beautiful hands,” he pressed a kiss to back of your hand, “beautiful hair,” taking a few strands of your hair, he pressed a kiss to them, “beautiful forehead,” kisses to your forehead, “beautiful brows,” to your brows, “beautiful eyes,” two upon each eye, “beautiful nose,” to the tip of your nose, “beautiful lips,” he grinned at the sight of your cheeks blushing red and delivered a chaste kiss to them. “And a beautiful heart.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close and pressed a kiss to the right of your chest before simply resting his chin atop your shoulder.

“On top of that you’re so strong,” Namjoon stated and held you from behind, his chin resting on your opposite shoulder with you wrapped in between their arms. “If there is anyone I can trust with the title of a Keeper, it’s you. Because that is your worth. You’re beautiful and kind and so, so strong.”

“We believe in you more than anything, little one. If you can do all those things and still keep your head up and face everything with a strong mind, you are worth more than anyone as the Keeper of the Dragons.”

“You’re going to be alright. You’re going to fail from time to time but you’ll keep at it without giving up hope because that’s what you’re best at doing. When everyone else has given up hope, you’re right there to smile through the rocky road and continue on without complaint.”

“And through it all, you won’t be alone.” With a kiss on your right cheek and a kiss to your left cheek, they whispered a promise that they’d never break. “We’ll be right here next to you.”

“So rely on us too, okay?” Namjoon said as he pressed another kiss to your temple. “We’re right here for you.”

“Welcome, princes of the Eastern Clan, and,” you could feel the Northern Prince’s eyes on you though you didn’t dare to look up unless he had given you permission to do so. With a light tone that hid a certain secret you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the prince greeted you. “Keeper of the Dragons, it is an honor to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine, your highness,” you returned the formal words with a head still lowered before him.

“Now, now, we don’t have to act too formal with one another,” prince Hyungwoo spoke in an easygoing tone as he gave a small clap. “We are comrades who are inevitably meant to fight alongside each other, aren’t we?” He held a hand before you and when you looked up to meet the gaze of the Northern Prince, you could see the lopsided grin he had greeted you with, a feeling not going too well with you but how could you show rudeness to a prince of the four?

From your peripheral vision, you could see Namjoon and Hoseok who watched with the same caution and wariness but even they couldn’t do much being as you were in the territory of the Northern Clan. A cold, hard place in the snowy mountains.

Possessive or not, it was common courtesy.

So you let your hand fall into the prince’s palm. “Yes, your highness,” you said and with a satisfied twinkle in his eyes, he gave you a kiss atop the back of your hand.

“Your beauty is one that can defeat the enemies itself, Keeper. Tell me, what is your name?”

“My name is Y/N, your highness.”

“Y/N,” he repeated the name slowly along his tongue, waiting for a moment before letting your hand go and looking up to you with a small smirk curled along the corner of his lips, “can you wield a blade?”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“The dragons of the Eastern Clan are one of the best warriors who control both the skies and the land, notorious for being an undefeated clan who refuses to lose to even the smallest wars. Now that they’ve gained a Keeper in their possession, they only grow stronger.” The prince gave one small look towards Namjoon and Hoseok before resting his gaze on you again. “But the Keeper does not only belong to the Eastern Clan, now does she? So tell me, dear Y/N, in a world where dragons are fighting for power just as any human kingdom would, what skills do you have to offer us protection and victory in a battlefield that may cost the lives of many?”

You knew what he was trying to say, that the position you were given and the wars that were to come was not a child’s play. It was all serious business where each one of you would walk into the battlegrounds not knowing who would live and who would survive. Being a Keeper did not guarantee safety nor victory of the wars. It meant protecting the dragons and bringing them back home alive.

“Prince Hyungwoo, the Keeper was only made recently,” Hoseok tried to save you but the Northern prince wasn’t having it.

“All the more reasons to get her ready for such dangerous events. You can’t tell me you aren’t worried just because you have a Keeper by your side now, can you?” He asked, raising a brow at the two Eastern princes. “No. It is because she is the Keeper that makes you worried more than anything. Am I wrong?” Upon the silent response that he received, the prince went on. “I won’t go against the words of our ancestors, they have accepted our dear Y/N after all, but she wouldn’t be useful if we don’t put her to good use.”

A tool.

You could tell that was all the prince of the Northern Clan thought of you as. And not just him but many other dragons who did not know of you as Y/N but as the Keeper of the dragons. You were going to be made a pawn in their wars.

“Since it seems as if the Keeper does not have any particular skills just yet, why don’t we test a theory out?” He snapped his finger, looking right back at you and bringing shivers down your spine as you knew something good wasn’t going to come out of his mouth. “They say the Keeper is at their strongest when placed in a very emotional state of mind.”

“What are you trying to say?” The anger rising in Namjoon flashed in his eyes as he watched prince Hyungwoo but the prince chose to simply ignore his concerns, eyes holding yours with a sly grin.

“What causes your ire, dear Y/N?” He asked you so casually as if speaking about the weather. “What makes you so livid and upset that you can’t seem to control your own emotions? Think of something very unpleasant.” He inched forward your way, dangerous eyes staring straight into your soul. “Is it when a man you barely know of touches you and makes you uncomfortable?” He grabbed ahold of your wrist, a touch different from when he held your hand for a greeting.

You winced slightly, biting back your tongue in order to hide how uncomfortable you were as the images of Jinyoung flashed before you.

“Prince Hyungwoo,” Hoseok growled a low warning as both of your princes stepped up behind you.

But he didn’t let go. “Hmm, you don’t look like someone who would get angry for the sake of yourself. You look like you would explode if something were to happen to the ones you cared most about.”

You couldn’t hear a single thing he was saying with the tight grip on your wrist. The only thing you could see was Jinyoung, the man who only looked at you when you were finally made useful because you managed to tame a dragon. The love he claimed he had for you wasn’t love. He just wanted to use you, having no other reason behind his infatuation for you.

Just like your former village.

You were just a tool for them as you would become one for the dragons.

“Let her go,” Namjoon demanded in a low snarl as he placed a tight grip on Prince Hyunwoo’s shoulder. Only then did the prince realize the state you were in and released his hold on you.

You couldn’t meet his gaze any longer but you held your head up, lips pressed into a thin line as the expression on your face refused to give into the fear your mind wanted you to walk into.

Hoseok wrapped a hand around your shoulder and took a step back so that he could create more distance between you and the prince.

Even then you didn’t feel good.

In a Clan where strangers stared at you as if you didn’t belong, in a Clan that only hoped to use you as a tool, you were reminded once again of your place in the world.

Jinyoung, your former village, and the dragons.

The whole world was really against you, weren’t they? Because when you think you’ve finally found happiness, it tries to take that away from you.

Hoseok stood there beside the open door that led into the guest room where the three of you would reside while Namjoon held a meeting with prince Hyungwoo, and watched with a silent gaze as you sat on a chair, eyes staring at your hands with thoughts running all over your mind.

Despite how brave you were in front of prince Hyungwoo, behind that font he knew how anxious and afraid you were. He could see it from where he stood now, watching you sit there all alone, finally letting your guard down but with a mind filled with anxious thoughts.

You were a brave soul, the sweetest kind he had ever met, and seeing such an expression on your face made him want to make it all alright again.

So he stepped into the room, closing the door slowly behind him to not make any abrupt noises which would startle you and walked towards your way.

Sliding a hand upon your shoulder, he felt you jumping slightly at the sudden touch.

“Sorry, I scared you, didn’t I?” Hoseok first apologized with a rueful smile. The last thing he wanted was to make you even more anxious.

But the way your expression softened at just the sight of him and how you breathed out the slightest relief of “Hoseok” made him at ease again. He made his way around to kneel before you and took your hands to caress them both with a gentle smile to help ease your own worries that kept circling your thoughts. Your eyes followed him silently, comforted at just his presence alone.

“Roses are really beautiful, you know that?”

The hairs of your brows creased in between as you met his gaze. “Hoseok?”

Yet he continued. “They bloom in the most magnificent ways, fluttering their petals open, blushing in the most prettiest shades of red. However, although they are known to be one of the most beautiful flowers, a rose doesn’t just offer itself as a pretty flower. It has its thorns to protect it from harm. Some thorns may be harmless, while some are really sharp and more dangerous than others. It’s like a pretty little thing such as yourself building bushes out of bushes made of thorns to keep yourself from harming others and others harming you. The rose likes to stand there, far from others, and smiling prettily as if everything is alright, while inside it’s slowly wilting away and just wants a hand that would willingly give it sunlight and water without fearing her thorns.”

Now I’m not saying that the thorns are always a bad thing. They can be good when facing harmful creatures that wish to simply pluck it and steal it for themselves, eventually hurting the little rose because they wouldn’t know how to care for it. But there are times when the wall of thorns can fall out of control. There are times when those thorns can harm the little rose. But do you know what’s so fascinating about these thorns? They only exist because the rose allows them to. Some thorns can get out of control, but once it’s tamed and nurtured and the rose can face it each day until it no longer fears those thorns, they can become one of the most powerful allies the rose can use.”

What I’m saying is,” Hoseok held your hands tighter against his own, giving it a gentle squeeze while never taking his eyes off you, “these little thoughts of yours can become your greatest ally or your worst enemy. It is all up to how you wish to face them. The world can be really scary, and I know that because I was one of those scary things that you had to face to get to where you are now. But just as your world can shift with just one sincere heart, you can do that all over again. Sincerity was what got us to see your blooming petals and soon all dragons that exist will see that too. Though,” he narrowed his eyes, “you have to be careful otherwise they’ll try to steal you away.”

“As if that would ever happen,” you told him with a shake of your head and a bitter smile.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he gave you a light squeeze. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I know what you mean, Hoseok, but I…” You looked away, eyes shaking as you could feel the tears coming. “I don’t want to be seen as just...that. I don’t want to be seen as just Y/N, Keeper of the Dragons, as a human, as a human girl who managed to become an important figure to the dragons and is now...and is now someone who can be used to win battles.” You took your hand from Hoseok to hold your face, hiding the tears that fell from your eyes the more your voice shook. “I know it’s selfish of me but I don’t want to be used as a tool. I don’t want to be seen as someone who’s far greater or far lesser than everyone else. I want to be seen as an equal, as an ally. I don’t want to be a weapon. I’m so scared, Hoseok.”

The sight of your tears, the soft cries and soft whimpers that left your lips made Hoseok’s heart ache when you finally decided to break down and tell him the things that had been going on inside your head.

Back then when you were in front of prince Hyungwoo, the way he held your wrist probably reminded you of how cruel and forceful Jinyoung had been towards you. Though he himself hadn’t ever witnessed the cruelty from both Jinyoung and the village you grew up in, he was sure the memories only served you as a horrible reminder of what you were to those people.

Hoseok wrapped his arms around you and in just a split second, your cries grew louder as you leaned against him, eventually getting too weak to hold yourself up on your own so you fell into his arms and the two of you sat there on the carpet floor.

“It isn’t selfish to want something for yourself, Y/N,” he said in such a soft tone as he held you close and tight. “Just because you are the Keeper does not mean you have to belong to everyone. You belong to your own self. Not me, not the Eastern Clan, not the dragons. You belong to you and no one should feel as if they can use you for their own benefits.”

“But…”

“You have a duty to hold as a Keeper, yes,” Hoseok nods, cutting you off gently, “but just because the Keeper’s job is to protect everyone, it does not mean that you are to be used as a tool. My love, I know the world hasn’t been fair to you but you have us now. You're not alone. Whatever you wish to do, we’re with you. Me, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. If it seems as if the world is not on your side, know that we are. I believe in you, Y/N. It’s okay to be afraid and it’s okay to lean on others when things aren’t going the way you hope for it to go. No matter what, you are you, and no one can take that away from you.”

“Hoseok..” You called his name.

“What is it?” Hoseok gently asked.

“I want to go home.”

The raw broken tone in your voice made his heart ache and although there were still a few days to go and the sun had yet to set, how could Hoseok ever say no when you’ve finally voiced out a selfish wish for the first time?

“Okay.” So he said, giving you a nod and a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “We’ll go home.”

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fe-fictions · 2 years

Note

Can u pleaaaase re upload the story "lost in a blizzard" with Dimitri ? And also the one where nobles are bad talking about Byleth ? I would be soooo grateful ! I loved them so much !!!

(Oh can I ever)

It was the first time you were visiting Faerghus. Well, beyond your wedding, which was a blur before your honeymoon, and you left from there to the church…

You were excited to visit your husband’s homeland. Yet you had noticed as soon as the snow fell that it was going to be different from expected.

Namely, that your husband was very, very interested in everything you were doing. He was constantly concerned about everything you were doing, determined to make sure you were with him at all times.

You adored Dimitri’s company, but having him stuck to your side was…suffocating.

You were a lone wolf since childhood. Even when you started as a professor, you had space. During the war, you had time alone.

Not having a moment to recharge and recuperate was starting to eat at your nerves.

You were only on day four of twelve.

So you took one of your very few opportunities to wake before Dimitri, quietly slipping out of bed (after expertly lifting his arms off you), and slipped on something simple, searching for some place wher you might find some solace.

Of course, being completely unfamiliar with the castle (and having no time to explore it), you opted for the next best thing.

“Excuse me, miss.” You called to a maid bustling around in the early gray.

“Oh, good morning, My Queen! I did not expect to see so early- it is a lovely surprise!” She greeted you with a curtsy, head bowed. “What can I do to assist you, milady?”

“I was wondering if you know a place where I can be alone with my thoughts.”

“I suppose…have you tried the royal library? It is a lovely, quiet place with the biggest collection of books in all of Faerghus!”

“That does sound ideal, but…” You trailed off; knowing Dimitri and his uncanny ability to hunt you down, he’d likely check there, first. The training room and the courtyards, second and third. “Maybe other than locations- are there any activities you could recommend me that I might be able to enjoy, alone?”

“Aside from a good book? My goodness, I can hardly think of any, milady! Is there something specific you wish for? Perhaps you wish to meditate, or self-reflect?”

“Yes. Precisely.” You agreed with her in an instant, “Where should I go?”

“I find long walks outside the castle grounds quite effective. There are beautiful cliffs just by the water, near the edge of the castle,” She pointed past the walls, to the east. “There’s a lovely path, and it’s quiet and peaceful…whenever I wish to get away, that’s where I go!”

“Perfect.” You said with a small smile, “Please, will you tell me how I might reach the path?”

“Of course, My Queen. It is-”

“Beloved!” Dimitri’s voice was far too awake compared to his usual morning voice. You straightened at his call, turning to see the man coming up with a relieved look on his face.

“Good morning, Dimitri.”

“My king!”

“Good morning, to you both.” He greeted the handmaid, albeit dismissively as he took your hand. “Beloved, where were you? I woke without you beside me, and I feared you had disappeared.”

“I’m here, Dimitri.” You assured him, “I was asking for some sort of pastime I could enjoy when I have a spare moment.”

“What few you have.” He joked, leading you back to the bedroom. A small part of you wanted to pull away.

You were confused by your feelings. You loved Dimitri, and would gladly throw your life down to protect him, but you found yourself annoyed by his touch. It wasn’t fair, especially to the man who cared for you so deeply.

“While I admire your desire to find some recreation to enjoy, my love,” He opened the door for you, giving your hand a squeeze, “I wish you would alert me when you go. Waking up without you is jarring, now that you’re here.”

“Do you think something terrible has happened if I don’t?”

“At first, yes. I know it’s silly, since we’ve been at peace for a little while. But also…if I am being honest, it’s because we only have a short time together before you depart. We’ve only a week and a few days before you return to the monastery.”

“It’s not ideal.” You agreed with a soft frown, feeling his arms come around your waist. “But distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bear a second apart when you’re here.” He mused as he kissed your forehead. “So please, Byleth, if you must wake early, won’t you tell me?”

“If you know I’m up early, you pull me back into bed.” You reminded him, something he’d done on the second and third mornings without hesitation. Dimitri smiled sheepishly, a soft blush coloring his cheeks.

“I suppose you’re right, but even so. I wish to spend every percious moment here, beside you.” He insisted, and cupped your cheek. “Won’t you please indulge me? Just this once?”

“I’ve been indulging you for days,” Is what you wanted to say. Instead, you pursed your lips and nodded. He beamed, shoulders relaxing in your agreement to do as he asked.

He kissed you, then again and again after. “Thank you, Beloved! I am truly the happiest man alive.”

You could only give him something of a grin as he showered you in affection yet again, unsure if you were entirely pleased with your decision.

-------------------------

The days wore on, and sure enough, Dimitri’s clingy-ness worsened.

The date of your departure was closing in, so he was doing everything in his power to stay by your side more than ever before.

It was frustrating, because the only moments you had to yourself now were when you had to use the lavatory, for those few, precious seconds.

So when you woke up the morning of the ninth day, you had enough. You were up before the dawn and ready for some time alone. Dimitri was asleep, arm around your waist as always.

You maneuvered away expertly, and searched for your armor and clothes. You were going to take up that handmaid’s advice, and you were going to enjoy that walk.

You could feel the cold air that threatened to seep in from the sealed windows when you walked past, but you hardly cared. You were ready to get out and spend some time away from your husband.

You stopped short of just leaving with no explanation, however. Instead you wrote him a small note, placed it on his bedside, and kissed his head before you slipped out of the room unnoticed.

The brisk, bitter cold already started biting at your skin the instant you left the gates (with specific instruction for the guards not to follow you), and you started for the cliffs.

You were excited to see what waited for you out there, past all the snow and white that was starting to dilute your vision. You were having trouble making out a path as it piled up, clearly having started early last night.

You wrapped your cloak tightly around you, determined to insulate as much as possible despite the cold freezing your armor. You’d warm up if you kept moving, you told yourself through chattering teeth.

Just keep moving.

You wondered what was so peaceful about a walk in this weather. It seemed more arduous than anything. Yet you persevered, determined to enjoy what time you had.

You were starting to lose feeling in your toes as the snow fell faster and thicker. The wind was picking up, whipping around you and slicing through your cloak. You pulled it tighter, but it didn’t help.

You looked back, wondering if you had perhaps made a mistake. You wondered if Dimitri was up yet, and if he’d seen your note. Maybe he would know how to navigate winter walks like this. If you had asked him to accompany you, you were sure he would be glad to escort you.

Yes, perhaps it would be better to do this with him. You didn’t need to be out here alone. You could find some other pastime, like reading in a corner of the library. The warm, dry library…

You searched in the snow for the castle. It was gone.

You felt a whisper of panic in your heart, realizing the snow was so thick and angry you could barely see ten feet behind you. You couldn’t even see the tallest towers of the castle. Had you really walked that far?

You looked to the ground, and realized your steps were nowhere to be found. You knew you’d gone in a fairly straight line along the path, but to think the snow had fallen so quickly you couldn’t find your footsteps was disarming.

You needed to go back.

You resolved to go, yet when you forced your legs around, they were heavy. Far too heavy. You couldn’t feel your feet. Or your hands. Or your face, really. You were so very cold, trembling violently. At least, you thought it was violent.

You were having trouble feeling much else but the numbing cold.

You needed to rest. This was too hard for your body. You were cold. Tired. Cold.

You were asleep in the snow.

All alone.

-----

“Byleth!” Dimitri had risen hardly an hour after you’d left, and he was starting to worry. He looked around the room, and realizing your armor was gone, he figured you’d gone off somewhere.

He quickly dressed, frowning to himself. You agreed to wake him whenever you were planning on getting up. You had promised him that much, at least. Why did you ignore his request this morning?

He went to the bedside to put on his signet ring, and found your note.

“Good morning, Dima. I’m going for a walk this morning. I’ll be back by sunrise.”

Dimitri looked out the window for point of reference. The sun was nowhere to be found, much like his wife.

It was snowing fast and thick. His jaw tightened. Where exactly had you gone on a walk? Surely you hadn’t gone out into the snow, had you? You, who was barely accustomed to the bitter cold of Faerghus?

Surely you knew better.

Dimitri reassured himself as he exited the room, and started for the courtyards in search of you. If anything, you likely went to explore. You would never leave without saying anything. You knew how important it was that he knew where you were.

He asked the maids; nothing. The butlers were unsure of your location. No council men or women had seen you, and you weren’t in the kitchen. No one knew where you were.

Dimitri was at a loss. You weren’t in the castle. Or maybe…you were hiding?

He thought of the best locations to check- the library, perhaps? Or the training grounds. Though there wasn’t a need to take a walk there, seeing how close they were to-

“Organize the search party, quickly! Assign two healers to each group.”

“Should we bring out the wyverns?”

“No- it’ll be impossible for them to navigate. Bring horses if you must. The time we spend trying to gear everyone up, the more we waste searching for the Queen!”

Dimitri had never frozen up like he did that instant.

He watched a blur of Dedue and his men go past, heading for the front gates. A search party for the Queen??

“Dedue!!” Dimitri’s voice was hoarse and unfamiliar to him, thick with a fear he didn’t like.

The captain of the guard looked to him and immediately his face paled. Not a great sign.

“King Dimitri! I just sent a messenger for you- we have an emergency!!”

“What’s going on?” He demanded, hand twitching for a weapon.

“The Queen is missing, milord. She went out into the blizzard this morning and hasn’t returned.”

Dimitri couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“S-she did…she’s what??” He croaked out.

He leaned against the closest pillar to keep from his legs giving out.

Dedue nodded grimly. “She went out alone this morning, ordering us not to accompany her. We fear her life is in danger.”

Dimitri pulled himself up long enough to rush the front gates, grabbing the closest spear he oculd find and leaping on one of the few horses they had just taken from the stables.

He drove his heels into the beast’s sides and galloped into the snow, leaving behind the shouts of his men.

You were missing. You were out there, alone. You had been lost to the snow and he was going to find you before it was too late.

He had waited so long for this, to bring you home with him, to show you a peaceful kingdom.

He had only been able to love you for such a short time.

He’d be damned if he lost you like this.

“Byleth!!!” He shouted over the whistle of the winds, scanning the snow frantically for a scrap of cloth or lock of hair. “Byleth, where are you?!”

He pressed onward, galloping further and further away from the castle. It had been a while since you left, if Dedue was planning to send out a group to find you. There was no telling how far you’d gone before the weather got so bad.

“Byleth!!!” He called for you louder, his voice cracking against the ice on his tongue.

His hands trembled around the reins he snapped, but not because of the cold. Damn the cold.

He couldn’t even think of the cold when you were missing.

Again and again he called, pressing onward every time he didn’t get a response. The castle was long gone by now. Had you truly made it this far? Had you arrived at the cliffs and were just waiting for an escort back to the castle?

Were you-

DImitri’s thoughts were loudly interrupted when the horse whinnied and reared back, a frightened noise coming from the beast and snapping him back into focus.

“Easy-! be still!!” Dimitri pulled at the reins, “What’s gotten into you? We can’t le-” He looked to where the horse had turned away, and gasped.

Your cloak was nearly covered in the snow. As was the woman beneath it.

His wife.

“BYLETH!!” He shouted out, leaping from the horses back and tumbling into the snow. He dug you out in panicked movements, throwing the snow aside and revealing the blueish hue of your icy body.

Dimitri sucked in a painful breath, drawing you out of the snow. Tears that couldn’t fall blurred his vision, forming into ice on his lashes as he tried desperately to wake you.

You were completely unresponsive, limp and heavy in his arms. Cold.

So very, very cold

“O-oh, Beloved- please hold on! Hold on, h-hold on, please…please wake up!” He cradled your face, your lips an unnatural shade. He shuddered, a hollow iciness filling him far more bitterly than any snow ever could.

He hoisted you up with sluggish limbs, hardly able to fathom what state his wife had fallen into.

You were so frail, and so very, very cold.

It was like he was carrying a dead body.

Another loved one gone.

Another one lost because he wasn’t there to help, he wasn’t able to-

“King Dimitri!!”

Dedue and his men were galloping towards him, not realizing that he had forced his horse into a canter while his mind cratered.

Dimitri could only stare at them, wordless as he clutched you in his arms, his body trembling from head to toe. Dedue took one look at you and understood.

“Quickly, milord- the clerics are standing by in your quarters. We must hurry! She’s not gone yet!”

You weren’t gone yet.

Dimitri looked at you, and faintly, oh so painfully faintly, did he see the smallest of breaths move your chest. You were still with him.

“Hold…h-hold on, Beloved. I beg of you, hold on.” He whispered hoarsely, racing back to the castle to bring you back.

He could only pray that Sothis have mercy on him this once.

Just this once.

This was the one soul that he couldn’t bear to carry on without.

Not now.

-------------------------

The first thing you realized when you came to was that you were warm.

You were someplace safe, and soft, and heavy.

Heavy, you realized through a throbbing headache and blurred vision, because there was a heavy mountain of blankets on top of you.

Al thick, and furry, and well-insulated, but they were bearing down on you enough to awaken you from the discomfort.

You shifted some beneath them with a grunt, then a groan.

You were awake.

Inside the castle.

Your eyebrows drew together in the silence, the roar of the crackling fire a familiar sound.

You’d heard it every morning and every night since you’d come to Faerghus.

But that was impossible- you had gone, alone. Had the guards actually trailed after you and rescued you? Or had they come for you after you’d been gone too long?

Maybe Dimitri read your note and decided to come after you, and saved you just in the nick of time.

Your eyes slid open, properly.

Dimitri.

You turned your head despite the throbbing in your skull, your whole body protesting any sort of movement.

But you looked to the side, and then the other. Dimitri was nowhere to be found. You grimaced.

The waves of guilt crashed into you much like the ice when you had collapsed. You must have worried him.

He was probably the one who sent for your rescue- for you to turn up in the snow must have been horrifying to him.

All because what, you wanted some alone time?

You bit your lip, a sting in the corners of your eyes. This was the worst. Your poor husband. He most likely extremely cross with you, which is what you deserved.

If he just came in and started yelling at you, you wouldn’t blame him at all. In fact, you’d welcome it.

“Beloved!!”

Okay, maybe not welcome it.

“Hmm…?” You grimaced again as the painful volume worsened the headache, but Dimitri didn’t notice.

He had burst into the room with a legion of clerics, his voice hopeful despite the loudness.

“You’re awake!” He knelt at the bedside, his expression full of something you hadn’t seen in a long while, not since the war.

You had scared him.

“Oh, Beloved, you’re all right! You’re f-finally awake, and I thought you would be asleep forever…but you’re all right!”

He whispered frantically, one hand on your face while the other found your hand beneath the blankets. His smile was wobbly and close to tears, but it was a smile all the same.

You couldn’t find a trace of anger in his expression, and that only made the guilt worse.

“When Dedue told me what happened, I wasted no time. I was on a horse and out in the snow before he finished talking.” Dimitri said with a soft laugh, though it was empty.

You looked at him, seeing the troubled crease between his eyebrows. His lips were stretched thin in a single line, yet you could see them moving downwards.

He had much he wished to say, but he didn’t know how.

“Dima…” You called to him weakly, drawing his eyes back to yo immediately. “Are you okay?”

He stared at you for a moment, then blinked, and gave a genuine chuckle. “Byleth- you’re asking me if I’m all right? You’re the one buried beneath every blanket in the castle!”

“It is heavy.” You commented. “But I want to know. Are you okay?”

“That is a complicated question, love.” He sighed, rising to his feet so he might start removing the blankets from the bed. “I am glad that you’re okay, and you’re safe. But I am…confused. I wondered why you disappeared without telling me. I was grateful for the note, but— you promised to speak to me if you went somewhere.”

“I did.” You agreed, exhaling and inhaling deeply when the weight lifted from your chest. Dimitri left the thickest blanket, as you were both sure he’d be scolded for taking away all your layers.

“If you knew, then why…?”

“Because I wanted to be alone.” Your reply was honest, and it caused his mouth to close once again. “I love being with you, Dimitri, and I love you. But I am someone who needs time alone. I know you want to spend time with me before I go, but…it is uncomfortable.”

“You…find my presence…uncomfortable?” He sounded so hurt you wanted to shove all those words back into your mouth and throw yourself into the castle moat.

“N-no, it’s not that. It’s when you’re…always attached at my side, arm in arm, rather than simply walking beside each other. You’re constantly with me, even when I’m doing something like reading ordinances. It can’t be entertaining to sit while I’m working.”

“I do not sit with you because I find it entertaining. I do it because I wish to be with you.”

“And I am very glad for that, but…just because we’re married doesn’t mean we have to be next to each other every second. Finding you pacing outside the lavatory when I’ve only been gone a few minutes is not normal behavior, don’t you think?”

“Ah.” His cheeks flushed, “I suppose that is…a bit much.”

“I’m not saying I want to stay away from you, or leave early, or anything like that. I want to treasure every moment we have together.” You promised him, and reached your hand out to him from beneath the covers. Dimitri near instantly took it.

“I just need some time to myself, too.” You finally said.

Dimitri bowed his head a little, looking down and a good bit defeated. But he understood you. He loved you, and only wanted you to be happy. If it meant leaving you for minutes a day…

“Very well.” He finally agreed, squeezing your hand once more before he started to pull away. “I…suppose you’d like me to give you some time alone now; I’m sure you can’t rest if I’m making a fuss.”

“Oh, Beloved.” He breathed, waste no time in joining you beneath the covers,s opening his arms and welcoming you into his broad chest without hesitation. You clung to him, a bit tightly, burying your face in his chest.

“Oh, Beloved.” He wasted no time in joining you beneath the covers, welcoming you into his arms without hesitation. You clung to him, burying your face in his chest.

“Thank you, Dima. And…I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s my fault for not understanding your needs.”

“I don’t want to ever hurt you. I shouldn’t have gone out into the snow, alone.”

“Not even people from Faerghus are brave enough to do that. There was no warning with this snowstorm- had I known it was coming, I would have had the front gates sealed immediately.”

“I see…” You hummed, yawning into his warm sweater. Dimitri beamed as he squeezed you closer. You were so very precious.

“Please tell me whenever you need time alone. I will do all I can to ensure you have a peaceful respite.”

“I will. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh?”

“You’re my husband, Dimitri.” You peeked up at him, making his heart pound painfully. “I want you to know that you’re loved.”

“I-I…I know that I am.” He swallowed thickly, unable to comprehend how much he loved this woman. “I love you, too.”

“I’ll make sure you remember it, every day.”

“I look forward to seeing your methods.”

“They will be very effective. You’ll never forget- by any means necessary.”

“…Beloved…is that a threat or a promise?”

“Hmm...”

"B-Beloved?"

You fell asleep before Dimitri couldn't decide if he was afraid or touched.

Probably both.

#dimitri #byleth #fe3h #fe 16 #fire emblem three houses #dimileth #dimitri x byleth #hurt and comfort #angst #blizzard prompt #uh oh #hansom man to rescue pls #fe-fictions #fe fictions

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cosmiclove-heavenstruck · 3 years

Text

Midnight Quidditch Games | Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader (written with a female reader in mind, though the gender is not stated)

Wordcount: 3800 words

Warnings: none, just fluff and friends-to-lovers

Summary: Fred and George come up with the idea of hosting illegal Quidditch Games for all four houses every Friday night. Harry convinces Reader to play with him and they end up on the same broom.

a/n: No Voldemort Au, set in Harry's fifth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (Based on a headcanon by @/ murphcooper on tumblr)

Friday was my favourite day of the week, and there were two reasons for that: One, it was the start of the weekend, and two, we played Quidditch.

Up until fifth year, the most I had to do with the popular wizarding sport was cheering at the official school games for the Gryffindor team and attending the Quidditch World Cup in 1994. Then Fred and George came up with a very illegal, yet very exciting and fun idea, which was to host unofficial Quidditch games in the middle of the night that any student could attend. Whether it were First Years who could barely fly, or simple people that never made it onto their house's team, anyone was welcome.

The twins had planned it the first two months of their sixth year together with Quidditch fans from the other houses and had created lists for every common room, which wouldn't be readable by the teachers or Filch.

“It's illegal! What if something happens? What if someone gets hurt, how do you want to explain that to Dumbledore, or worse, to Professor McGonagall,” Hermione argued as soon as Fred and George had prompted their idea to us one Sunday evening.

“I'm disappointed. Do you really think we would work that sloppy?”, Fred asked.

“The house elves are in,” George explained. “Which means free food and free healthcare, all in one!”

“Awesome,” Ron said, and he should be proven right.

The only rules to attend were the duty to remain silent and to come in your pyjamas, just for the sake of it. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws would be playing against Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, Lee Jordan would be commenting as always and because Madam Hooch wasn't available, Hermione would be our judge. This was decided unanimously.

The first two games had occurred at the end of November, and they had been a complete mess. We had to raise the number of players on each team so everyone who wanted to play fit in, which led to three Keepers, six Chasers, four Beaters and two Seekers for each house. Furthermore, there had been a dozen of first years who couldn't fly yet and who had to be taught by voluntaries.

Those first two Friday nights I had spent with Lee, Hermione, Luna and Dobby on the commentary stand, cheering and eating chocolate biscuits. Once in a while, I had thrown a biscuit in the air for Harry to catch.

Because of the bone-chilling cold and pitch-black darkness brought by the Scottish winter, Fred and George had invented glass bulbs which carried bright orange, warm fire and hovered over the Quidditch pitch.

With the first Friday of December approaching, the excitement grew bigger and it was basically the only topic during every meal. Now that the rules and positions had set and the First Years could fly, we were awaiting the first serious game – as serious as playing Quidditch in pyjamas with Hermione as a judge could be.

“You have to play, too,” Harry said to me during lunch on Friday. My friends had tried all week to persuade me to play instead of only keeping Hermione company, while I had constantly declined.

“Yes, come on,” Ron agreed. “We know you can fly, you played with us this summer.”

“No, no way.” I shook my head and pulled the pumpkin juice jug closer.

“Why not?”, Harry asked, covering my glass with his hand. I raised my eyebrows, but he only grinned, which made my stomach tingle. But I glossed over the unwanted feeling and shoved his hand away.

“Because all positions are filled. And besides that, I would be a terrible Chaser,” I answered. “Or a terrible anything, really.”

“You could play as a Seeker,” Hermione suggested and poured herself a drink. “You're good at noticing details.”

“But Harry and that boy from third year are playing as Gryffindor Seeker,” I reminded her, cutting my toast in half.

“You could fly with Harry,” She said plainly. I stared at her with wide eyes. I should had known the moment I had told Hermione about my not-so-tiny crush on Harry that it had been a bad idea. Now she did what I should had expected: Trying to set me up with him.

“No, I – no.”

“But I wouldn’t mind,” Harry said. “And if you don't like it, I can drop you off at the stands again. Come on Y/N, say yes.” He nudged my shoulder, looking at me with sweetest puppy eyes. I couldn't say no to him, he knew that. I sighed.

“Fine.”

A content smile lit up on his face. “Brilliant.”

Around half past nine, we made our way out of the castle and down to the Quidditch pitch. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, as well as a dozen other Gryffindor students had their brooms shouldered, following me and Hermione through the dimly lit corridors.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” I whispered, tapping the Marauders Map, which soon revealed Hogwarts’ grounds, ink lines flowing over the parchment. Filch was strolling around in his office, and so was Snape. McGonagall’s ink dot hovered in the East tower of the Fourth Floor. “Everything’s clear, but keep quiet,” I informed the others.

Hermione linked her arms with me.

“How are you?”, She asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Shut up. What was that at lunch?”

“Oh, come on, I just said what you were thinking. Everybody knows you have a thing for each other,” She said, and I quickly turned to make sure Harry was still talking to Dean and Ginny. Hermione chuckled. “I made a bet with Ginny that you will kiss after catching the Snitch together,” She added.

I swirled back around. “You what?”

“But Ginny thinks you'll snog in a broom closet afterwards.”

Before I could reply anything, Harry had caught up with us.

“What are you two whispering about?”, He asked, leaning closer so I could smell his deodorant.

“Nothing,” I said and was glad that the darkness hid my tinted cheeks. Hermione let herself fall back, leaving Harry and me alone at the front of the group.

“You're a terrible liar,” He said.

“Says you. Remember last year when we had detention with Snape –”

Harry wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, pulling me unintentionally closer, and placed his hand over my mouth to stop me from talking any further.

“You promised you'd take that to the grave.”

I grinned and pulled his hand away, though his arm stayed around me.

We made it out of the castle without any inconveniences, thanks to Peeves, who – on orders from the twins – created some chaos in the trophy room and distracted McGonagall.

We were the first to reach the pitch, and Harry unlocked the door under the stands with the key on the necklace around his neck, which led to the changing rooms and the spare brooms. Fred and George had stored the fire bulbs under a loose floorboard and were now freeing them so they could fly over the pitch. Hermione directed her wand towards the sky, sending out a Muffliato Charm, then winked at me and climbed up to the commentary stand with Lee.

In the meantime, the other houses arrived; the Hufflepuffs were followed by a tiny body of house elves carrying fast food on tablets over their heads. They spread over the stands, consorting with the students watching the game and providing them with hot meals and drinks.

“Welcome back everyone!”, Lee's voice echoed over the pitch and the crowd cheered. “And also welcome to everyone new here who wants to play or just likes to break the rules.”

“Hello from me too. We have some new players I want to introduce,” Hermione continued. “Marina Florence playing Keeper for Slytherpuff, Arthur Mitchell deputizing for Gryffinclaw’s Chaser Demelza Robbins, who is currently stationed in the hospital wing, and Y/N playing Seeker for Gryffinclaw together with Harry Potter.”

“That's ridiculous! Since when are we playing in pairs?!”, Draco yelled out of the crowd of Slytherin players.

“Since I'm making the rules, you daft idiot!”, Hermione called back, and laughing echoed over the field. Ron's language was clearly leaving a mark on her. “Now get on your brooms, everyone!”

“Make sure you don't slip off your broom in those silk pyjamas, Malfoy, ” Fred snickered loudly, and Draco held up his middle finger.

Slowly, the huge crowd of players on the pitch flew up into the air, positioning themselves on the right spots. I turned to Harry, who climbed on his broom. That was the part I had avoided to think about all afternoon: How would we fly on that thing together?

My heart drummed so loudly against my ribcage it was a miracle he couldn't hear it. We were friends, I reminded myself. And I would not ruin this friendship for the sake of some stupid feelings.

“Come on, Y/N,” Harry said, stretching out his hand. I grabbed it, and he helped me to climb onto his Firebolt, so that I was sitting in front of him. His fingers gripped around the broom stick, not very far from where I had placed my hands.

“You alright?”, He asked and I nodded.

“Brilliant,” I said, and he chuckled. He then wrapped his left arm around my waist before he kicked us off the ground and the Firebolt shot through the cold night air. My back got pressed against his chest, his knees squeezing my thighs, and out of shock, I held onto his arm around me.

I hadn't flown since last summer, and even then it had only been on Ron's old broomstick a few feet above the earth. This here was the complete opposite: Harry's Firebolt was a hundred times faster, and it barely took us three seconds to be the ones flying the highest over the stadium.

“I got you, everything's fine,” Harry said somewhere close to my ear as he had noticed my hand clenched around his arm, and a warm shiver ran down my spin. I looked down on the Quidditch pitch.

“It never looks that high when I’m down there,” I said.

“Are you afraid of heights?”, He asked, but I shook my head.

“No.” Not with you. I could feel his heart beating against my back and absently stroked over his hand on my waist, until Hermione's voice ripped me out of my thoughts.

“Okay, I want a fair game and no injuries, is that clear? And show some respect to the youngest players! Now ready, steady, GO!” With a wave of her wand, the trunk with the Quidditch balls snapped open and the Quaffle flew high into the air, followed by two Bludgers. For a short moment, I saw the Golden Snitch, then it rushed off into the darkness.

“So, what do we do now? Any secret strategies?”, I asked.

“No,” Harry answered, placing his chin on my shoulder. “We just wait and watch.”

A tingling warmth spread through my body at the subtle touch. Gently, Harry steered the broom around the pitch, while the others beneath us played.

“Katie wins the Quaffle – passes to Montgomery – Rick close to score, come on – YES, Gryffinclaw scores 10 points!”, Lee bellowed and loud applause erupted. “And Slytherpuff in possession – Blaise with the Quaffle – Josephine Gordon from Hufflepuff takes over, excellent Chaser that girl, and rather attractive – OW, I'm just stating facts!”

Hermione had smacked Lee on the back of his head.

“Anyways, Blaise in possession once again – now First Year Conan Ivory – Smith overtakes – and he scores. Ron, look at the Quaffle, not at Hermione – OW! – But Gryffinclaw still leads – Ginny overtakes – fights off some Slytherins – hey, careful Harry, Bludger coming your way –”

Harry quickly leaned over me and the Firebolt dropped a few meters, dodging the Bludger rushing over our heads. George (or Fred?) darted after the ball, calling a quick “Watch it, lovebirds!” at us, and hit the Bludger towards a Slytherin Chaser.

The other twin was close behind, shouting “Less snogging, more seeking!”

“Shut it!”, I yelled. For Merlin's sake, did everyone knew about my crush? Was it really that obvious for everyone except Harry? Not that I wanted him to find out – he would be embarrassed, he didn't think of us as anything other than friends.

Harry's arm slipped from my waist and he cleared his throat, but a broomstick did not provide much space, wherefore his chest was still pressed against my back and I could feel his rather fast heartbeat.

“Do you, uhm... want me to drop you off?”, He asked.

“Oh. Uh, no,” I said, trying to turn so I could face him, “I like it, but if you want to –”

“No! No, I just thought...” Harry’s eyes danced over my face like they had never before and we were quite close.

“ – Applebee has the Quaffle - and that's a score! Sixty to sixty!”, Lee called, and Hermione blew her silver whistle. I ripped my eyes off of Harry and looked down to the commentary stand. “Now, we’re gonna have a short break, because Dobby thinks you're gonna starve otherwise. All the first and second years are asked to go back to their dorms, because it's almost midnight – don't complain to me –”

Harry carefully steered his Firebolt back to the ground where he landed near Ron and Ginny. I climbed off and was glad to be spared an awkward conversation, because Ginny grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side of the pitch. The sudden loss of Harry's warm chest made me shiver.

“Now, have you ever thought about making out in a broom closet?”, She asked, a mischievous grin on her reddened face. I rolled my eyes at her.

“Hermione told me about the bet, so don't even try! No one's gonna make out in a broom closet,” I said.

“Except you and Harry,” Ginny replied. I opened my mouth to talk back, but was interrupted.

“What’s going on with you and Harry?” Cho had caught up to us, snatching a plate with fish and chips from a tablet an house elf carried through the crowd. “I have watched you, it's adorable, honestly.”

“First off, there's nothing to be adorable,” I said and stole a fry from her plate, “and second, you are supposed to watch the Snitch, not us.”

“So is Harry, but he only has eyes for you.” Cho smiled and tapped my nose with her finger. Ginny giggled and ate a piece of fried fish. In the same moment, Hermione breathlessly jogged up to us.

“What – were – you – waiting – for?”, She panted. I furrowed my brows.

“Huh?” Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“You were this close to kiss him, why didn't you do anything?”

“Is my love life this much more interesting the Quidditch game?!”

All three girls answered “Yes” in union.

“But he doesn't feel the same way for me!”, I argued. “We are friends –”

Ginny grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around. “Do friends look at each other that way? I don’t think so.”

Harry stood a few feet away with Ron, Seamus and Dean, though he seemed not to listen to their conversations and instead stared over at us. At me. When he realised he had been caught, he waved shyly and almost spilled his pumpkin juice. I waved back at him before turning to the girls again, all of whom were looking temporising at me.

“Oh, I – I don't know. Even if you're right, I can't just kiss him out of nowhere on his broom.”

“No, you gotta snog him in a broom closet so I get my Galleon,” Ginny said smugly, and Hermione nudged her with her elbow and looked at her watch, before blowing her whistle again.

“Everyone back on their positions, break's over!” Then Hermione shot me a serious look. “Get the boy, we're all done of you pining over one another. Ron can get the other boys to crash somewhere else, if you need the dorm.”

“Hermione!”, I gasped, but she was already rushing back to the commentary stand.

“Good luck,” Cho said, and Ginny winked. I glared at them before making my way over to where the Gryffindor boys stood. I saw how Ron said something to Harry, patted his shoulder and flew off.

Harry turned to me, smiling. His hair was even messier than usual due to the wind, and he had put on a black hoodie over his pyjamas. He looked cute and hot at the same time, and I couldn't quite believe that he was supposed to like me back.

“Do you want to – or?”, He asked.

“Yeah,” I smiled and he got on his Firebolt, making space in front of him for me.

“Good. I mean –” He cleared his throat as I climbed on his broom. The next second, we were high up in the air, his chest against my back again.

“Okay, guys, game's on again! Go!”, Hermione shouted and waved her wand at the Quaffle, which flew upwards and was caught by Ginny instantly.

“And we're back – Katie passes the Quaffle to Valentina – She flawlessly dodges a Bludger – Back to Peters, almost made it onto the Ravenclaw team – and he scores! SEVENTY TO SIXTY.”

I took a deep breath and leaned back against Harry, watching the game unfold. He propped his chin back onto my right shoulder, like an unspoken routine.

“I think I'm gonna play again next Friday,” I said out of the blue.

“Really?”, He asked, sounding surprised. I smiled. The crowd underneath us cheered.

“Yes. If you save me a place on your broomstick.” I turned to look at him, and he smiled brightly at me. We were as close as earlier, maybe even closer. I held my breath, until I noticed something small and golden buzzing through the air behind Harry, illuminated by one of the fire bulbs.

“There!” I pointed at the Golden Snitch, and Harry's head spun around to assure himself.

“Do you trust me?”, He asked.

“Of course,” I replied. Instantly, his hand was back around my waist and he yanked the Firebolt around.

“ – Seamus throws the Quaffle to Dean – Dean passes Nott – and he scores! NINTHY TO EIGHTY FOR GRYFFINCLAW! And Potter seems to have spotted the Snitch, Draco, Cedric and Cho close behind – Come on, show them what that Firebolt can do!”, Lee's voice roared from somewhere deep down, but my eyes were glued onto the Snitch: It whirred through the ice cold December air and up to the left ring of the Slytherpuff team.

Malfoy had almost caught up to us; even though the Firebolt was the fastest broomstick on the market, it was obviously slower when carrying two people instead of one.

The Snitch twirled around the pole, then dropped down and headed for the floor. Harry followed, and now we where almost vertically flying downwards. Because of the sudden shift of direction, I swore loudly and clenched my hands tighter around the broom.

“I won't let you fall, I promise,” Harry called over air rushing past us.

“I know, but a warning would have been nice!”, I yelled back, and he chuckled.

The weight of two people on one broomstick also meant that we got dragged downwards way faster, which meant we were outdistancing Malfoy. The Golden Snitch took a sharp right turn and now buzzed two meters above the ground to the other side of the pitch.

“You have to catch it!”, Harry yelled.

“WHAT? No, I can't –”

“Yes, you can! I have to steer!” And hold you. But he did not say that. I swore under my breath and carefully loosened one hand from the broomstick, stretching it forward. The Snitch was inches away from my fingertips and I pushed myself up, Harry's grip around my mid tightening. The silver wings touched my fingers, I stretched my arm further and in the same moment my hands clasped around the tiny, golden ball, we fell forward.

“ – And that doesn't look – Oh, Potter and Y/L/N are on the ground. I can't really see, if someone caught the Snitch –”

As one tangled mess, we landed on the frozen lawn, rolling over one another and stopping with Harry half on top of me. My whole body ached and I would definitely get bruises from the fall, but that was something I could worry about later. I caught the Snitch!

“Shit, sorry, fuck. Y/N, are you alright?” Harry's face hovered over me, a bloody scratch on his cheek. I grinned happily and held up the golden ball.

“Yeah, more than alright.”

“Y/N caught the Snitch! TWOHUNDRED AND FORTY TO EIGHTY! Gryffinclaw wins!”, Lee bellowed and the crowd cheered and applauded loudly. Harry held out one hand to help me up, and I took it.

“I'm sorry, I know I promised, but I couldn't hold you any longer and –”

“Shut up.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. My hands found their way into his raven hair, and he hugged my waist, pulling me so tightly his fingers almost touched his own rips with the opposite hand. I kissed him, and he was kissing me back; it felt like someone had lit a firework in my heart, and for one marvellous moment, we were the only two people in the whole wide world.

Then the other players landed on the field, and we broke apart, catching our breaths. We were both grinning, and I felt drunk from the cold night and catching the Snitch and kissing Harry.

The raven haired boy bent down to kiss me once more, this time softer, and he intertwined our fingers before leading us over to our friends, where Ginny flicked a Galleon into Hermione's open hand.

“Took you long enough,” Ron said, who had both his and Harry's broomstick shouldered.

“Well, they got around in the end,” Cho added, leaning against Cedric, his chin propped on her head. “Sleepover at the Ravenclaw dorm?”, She added, and we all nodded in agreement.

While Fred, George and Lee collected the fire bulbs and Quidditch balls, and the house elves cleaned up the dirt with a snap of their fingers, we made our way back to the Hogwarts castle:

Ron alongside Hermione, followed by Seamus and Dean arm-in-arm, Cho with Cedric, one arm around her waist, Ginny carrying a tired Luna on her back, and lastly, Harry and me, holding hands.

“You know, I'm glad I agreed to play with you,” I said. Harry smiled.

“Yeah, me too.” He pressed a kiss on my cheek. In spite of the shivering cold, I had never felt more warm and comfortable than in this moment.

#fluff #my writing #oneshot #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter #no voldemort au #quidditch

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mayihavethisdanse · 3 years

Text

“What is this, the Dark Ages?”

Or, Arthurian themes and allusions in the Brotherhood of Steel mythos as seen in Fallout 4. (But that’s a lot of words.)

Yep. We're doing this.

First, some obligatory caveats: there is no single Arthurian canon, just 1500 years of assorted fanfic based on the whims of whoever was writing at the time. For this extremely highbrow Tumblr meta, I have ignored most of it and drawn on my favorites. Also Wikipedia.

Also, I am not an expert in Arthurian literature (or Fallout lore, come to that), and I preemptively beg the pardon of anyone who is.

Finally, in no way am I claiming that all these parallels and thematic echoes are deliberate or even significant. In fact, I'd break it down into:

Clearly deliberate allusions, whether in or out of universe;

Probably coincidence, but could be someone deliberately capitalizing on a coincidental similarity;

Almost certainly coincidence, but fun to speculate about; annnnd

Blatant Monty Python references. (Because of course there are.)

I'll start with the big one.

Arthur Maxson, boy king and unifier

(source)

So across all the retellings and variations of King Arthur’s life story, there are a few consistent elements, particularly in his early life and rise to power. Some of these threads are echoed in the Fallout universe, specifically (and unsurprisingly) in the person of Arthur Maxson.

Both the legendary King Arthur and Arthur Maxson were born with a claim to power lying in their ancestry, both were fostered away from their families, and both proved themselves in combat at a young age.

King Arthur united the warring kingdoms of Britain into a single entity, making them stronger against outsiders and receiving general admiration and acclaim. Arthur Maxson united the divided factions of the BoS after the events of Fallout 3 and is held in similarly high regard by his men.

The name Prydwen is a reference to the ship of the original King Arthur. Presumably, Arthur Maxson (or someone in the BoS who anticipated his promotion) christened the airship in a deliberate homage to the Arthurian myth.

King Arthur is associated with his legendary sword. I think it’s notable that Maxson’s legend is associated with a bladed weapon, too. ("He killed a DEATHCLAW with a COMBAT KNIFE!”)

Probably coincidence, but fun: the historical emperor Magnus Maximus, who pops up a lot in early Arthurian legend, was known in Welsh as... Macsen. (⌐■_■)

Round Table, but make it dieselpunk

(Continued under the cut.)

Moving away from obvious allusions and into some looser parallels:

Like the Round Table, the Brotherhood is an exclusive knightly order with its leader being the one able to open it up to his chosen few.

Like the Round Table, the BoS sees itself as defending human civilization against forces of chaos. (I’ll touch on their tech-hoarding tendencies when I get to the Grail stuff.) This idea of civilization in the face of chaos goes back to the BoS’s founding, even though the level of isolationism we see in most of the Fallout franchise is not exactly what founder Roger Maxson had in mind: “Notably, Maxson's ultimate intention was to establish the Brotherhood as an organization that works closely with people outside of the Brotherhood, as guardians of civilizations, not its gatekeepers.” (source) In a lot of ways, Arthur Maxson represents a return to his ancestor’s original ideals.

Renegade knights? Internal politics? Traitors within? We gotchu.

In both the medieval legends and in all chapters of the BoS we’ve seen, there’s a big focus on bloodlines (ew). Ironically, it’s probably Arthur Maxson’s unquestionable ancestry that allows him to be more progressive than either of his East Coast predecessors when it comes to boosting Brotherhood numbers by recruitment (even though you can still see a clear division between “born Brotherhood” and recruited soldiers, but that’s a topic for another day). Maxson sees himself as an Elder who "cares for the people"—however misguided and patronizing that attitude might be—and whatever else you might say about the guy, you can't say he doesn't believe he has a duty. Which brings us to…

Know Your Enemy: Danse as Gawain

Before I start this section, an acknowledgement of authorial bias:

Gawain, as portrayed in the Middle English poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, is my very favorite of King Arthur’s knights. (Other stories aren't always as flattering, but like I said at the outset: I'm sticking to the ones I like.)

That poem is my very favorite piece of medieval Arthurian literature. In this section, I'll refer to the modern English translation by Simon Armitage.

...that’s it, I have no other biases to disclose.

What? 👀

(Art: Clive Hicks-Jenkins)

All right. So in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, you’ve got this himbo loyal knight of Arthur’s who finds himself caught up in... you know what, let me just paste in the Wikipedia summary. (The Toast, RIP, also did a pretty entertaining and more-or-less accurate recap.)

It describes how Sir Gawain, a knight of King Arthur's Round Table, accepts a challenge from a mysterious "Green Knight" who dares any knight to strike him with his axe if he will take a return blow in a year and a day. Gawain accepts and beheads him with his blow, at which the Green Knight stands up, picks up his head and reminds Gawain of the appointed time. In his struggles to keep his bargain, Gawain demonstrates chivalry and loyalty until his honour is called into question by a test involving the lord and the lady of the castle where he is a guest.

Don’t worry too much about the plot details, though; for this post, I’m more interested in the thematic parallels. The Green Knight story is full of contrasts: order vs. chaos, civilization vs. wilderness, mortal man vs. Other... but let’s start with Gawain himself.

Some stuff to know about Gawain:

He was "as good as the purest gold, devoid of vices but virtuous and loyal". Gawain took his principles more seriously even than the rest of Arthur’s knights, not out of pride but out of humility: "I would rather drop dead than default from duty," he says.

He’s faithful and honorable and never even tempted to betray an oath, even when offered every variety of seduction and riches, except for a single moment of weakness in a desperate desire not to be executed for random shit by powerful forces for reasons he doesn't understand.

Even though he doesn’t really understand why he needs to die, he sticks to his oath. Gawain's one weakness is a moment of desperate, private, human desire for survival. He'll submit to the headsman’s axe if he has to, but he'd still rather live.

Above all, Gawain is the ideal of a human man: he might be the bravest and loyal man there is, but he’s still fundamentally human.

You can probably see where I'm going with this.

A few more fun facts about Gawain that resonate with Paladin Danse’s story:

He’s got a bunch of really shitty brothers. (No comment.)

Gawain (SPOILERS!) doesn't actually end up beheaded, but he does willingly kneel for his execution and gets a cut on the throat as a reminder of his sin. And, uh, Danse can also get his throat cut! It doesn’t end as nicely but it’s, you know, a thing that can happen.

Gawain might be a really good guy, and he tries really hard to be one, but in the end he’s nothing more than that: there’s nothing supernatural about him, he has no special powers beyond his own principles and devotion. He’s just a dude doing his Best.

Wait, why not Danselot?

Oh, that guy? Here’s the thing.

Lancelot personifies the continental ideals of courtly love that became popular in the High Middle Ages. Central to his story is the prioritization of personal relationships and romantic feelings in a way that you don’t really see in Gawain's, at least in the Green Knight tale. (Later stories hook Gawain up with an extremely delightful lady, but even that is a different flavor of romance than Lancelot's and has more to do with Gawain honoring his word and his egalitarian treatment of women (hell yeah). In the poem, Gawain is impressed by Bertilak's wife but resists her temptation; in fact, the biggest risk is not that he'll yield to her advances but that he'll be discourteous to her, i.e., violate his principles and cause dishonor to his king and his host.)

Lancelot is driven by passions over principles in a way that Gawain never really is (at least in the stories I’m talking about; later writers have committed character assassination to various degrees). Yes, you could argue that both Gawain and Lancelot betray their oaths, but Lancelot’s betrayal is never, um, blind. He knows what he’s doing and makes a deliberate choice to prioritize his love for the queen over his love for the king. It doesn’t make him a bad guy—he too is an ideal knight with one fatal flaw—but his character isn’t as comparable to Paladin Danse.

Yeah, Gawain is (in most stories) a prince and a kinsman of Arthur’s, but he’s ultimately a native boy who doesn’t break the mold of a Knight of the Round Table. Likewise, Danse is portrayed as competent and valuable to the BoS, but not exceptional or breaking the mold of what a BoS soldier should be: he simply represents the ideal. Meanwhile, Lancelot is a foreign prince who was marked from childhood as special and fancy, and his storyline goes alllll over the place. (Much like this post.)

For example, Lancelot goes to absolutely absurd extremes to prove his devotion for no other reason than to prove it. (“I’ll do any useless humiliating thing you want. I’ll betray every oath except the one I made to you. That’s what love is!”) Gawain would never. Danse would never.

Ultimately, Gawain's tests are of his character and not of his love. And like Gawain, Danse’s devotion is to service and his principles, not to another person—even Arthur Maxson.

All that said, there are some similarities: both are beloved by Arthur, both are held up as the ideal of what a knight should be. And even if their fatal flaws are different, both make the point that no matter how good and brave and loyal they might be, no human being can be perfect.

(Except Galahad. Who is, as a result, very boring.)

I’ll conclude this section with a quote from someone else’s take on the Greek Knight poem:

I like Gawain. He’s not perfect, but he’s trying his best which is all any of us can do. He’s not like the other knights in the Arthurian legends who occasionally ‘accidentally’ kill women on their little adventures and then feel hard done by when they have to deal with the consequences of that. Gawain holds himself to a high standard – higher, it seems, than Arthur and his knights hold him to considering how hard they laugh when Gawain tells them how bad he feels about the whole thing.

I think Gawain is very relatable in this story. We all want to be better than we actually are.

And that, more than anything else, is Danse.

The Grail myth

What’s that? Lost relics of power? Better send some large armed men after ‘em!

The parallels to the BoS’s tech-hoarding ways are obvious enough that the games themselves lampshade them (albeit by way of Monty Python). But it also ties into the larger themes of “purity” versus “corruption” and the BoS’s self-image as a bastion between civilization and chaos. (See Maxson's line in response to the Sole Survivor’s quip about the Dark Ages: “Judging from the state of the world, it wouldn't be a stretch to say we're living in that era again.”)

But the ultimate futility of the Grail mission is also worthy of note. The BoS might want the power of prewar tech on their side, but they’re no more to be trusted with it than any other group of human beings. No matter how they try, the “corruption” of humanity can’t be overcome as long as they’re striving to harness power for their own ends. You can only achieve power by surrendering control of it.

The death of Arthur

The nature of gameplay being what it is, it's not guaranteed that the Arthur figure will be fatally betrayed, bringing Camelot down with him—but it's not unlikely, either.

Awkward.

Some final spitballing:

Outside the Brotherhood, there are some fun parallels of the Arthur myth with the rest of Fallout 4. Betrayal by one’s own son, for example.

The key difference between the BoS and the legendary Round Table: King Arthur’s knights, for all their flaws and human weaknesses, are usually presented as unambiguous Good Guys. The BoS is... a little more ambiguous...

...but damn if they don’t think they're the good guys.

A-ad victoriam, fellas!

#fallout #fallout 4 #brotherhood of steel #arthur maxson #paladin danse #sir gawain and the green knight #sir gawain #gawain #knights of the round table #king arthur #elder maxson #fallout 3 #fallout lore #maxson #roger maxson #look mom I did a meta

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izaswritings · 3 years

Text

Title: who we are in the aftermath

Fandom: The Owl House

Synopsis: Belos falls and the Golden Guard survives. It’s a new world and a new day, and sooner or later Hunter has to figure out where he fits in it.

Or: in which Hunter stays at the Owl House, becomes a (very, very reluctant) apprentice, continues to have accidental sibling shenanigans with the annoying human, and finally finds a place where he belongs. Probably.

AO3 link is here.

[Next chapter is here!]

chapter one: battling birds

They give him a room near the east side of the house, stuffed full of broken things and a miscellaneous number of random items. It’s not the human’s old room, and not Lilith’s, either—there’s too much dust and too much stuff for either option. Hunter can’t tell if he’s grateful for this or not. He’s still deciding on whether he’s grateful for the room at all.

There’s no time to set up a bed. He spends his first night here on a blanket, restless and half-awake and lying so still he’s half-convinced he’s shaking from the strain of not moving at all, not making a single sound. He can practically taste the dust on every inhale—does the Owl Lady ever clean, Titan help him—and by some godawful midnight hour Hunter gives up on sleep entirely and sits up, carefully, to whisper to his palisman.

Nothing important. None of the real questions that are swirling around in his head, like what am I even doing here and why am I still here and what am I supposed to do now, do you know? Instead he just says nonsense things, useless things, like “If I shine a flashlight in that little demon’s face do you think I could get him to chase the dot?”

The palisman coos and chirps and sings nonsense back. Red is a pretty color. I like tulips. If we iced over the Boiling Sea could we make human rain?

“None of those answers make sense,” Hunter tells it, and then writes a small note about the sea and rain connection on the dusty floor, if only because that’s actually kind of interesting and he wants to check it out again later.

Red tulips are tasty, replies the palisman, and nuzzles his fingers when he goes to pet it. Its feathers are soft and its eyes are luminous in the moonlight. Nonsense, all of it, but the nonsense helps—familiar as a friend, safe and easy. Better than thinking of Belos. Better than wondering what he’s doing here, sleeping on the floor in the Owl Lady’s house.

The human has left. He could walk out right now and she’d never know, not that her disappointment has any bearing on if he chooses to stay or go. She’s vanished back to the human world, probably gone forever. This house means nothing to Hunter—the Owl Lady is annoying and dislikes him about as much as Hunter dislikes her, and as endearing as the weird little demon is, that isn’t enough to make Hunter want to stay.

He could leave easily. He could go anywhere. He has nowhere to go.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hunter tells the palisman, at last, hours later. It is almost morning. The sunrise has only just begun, the peace of this dusty attic room wavering thin and fragile in the light of early dawn. It is a quiet admission. He says it very soft. “I don’t know if I know anything.”

I love you, says the palisman.

“That’s not an answer either.”

Oh, well.

Twenty minutes later, the Owl Lady’s weird bird-worm security creature bursts through the window and sings good morning loud enough to shatter eardrums. Hunter grabs his staff, throws a blast at the thing on instinct, teleports to the kitchen in a panic, and smacks the Owl Lady in the face with his palisman first thing in the morning.

The easy explanation is this: the castle falls and Belos dies and the Golden Guard somehow survives it all: portal collapse and half-realm merge and everything, which means when the dust settles, ultimately Hunter is left with absolutely no idea of what to do with himself.

“You should work with Eda!” says the human, in the aftermath. Given she says this in the ruin of what was once the Emperor’s castle, barely a half hour after—everything—Hunter feels pretty justified in his response. Which is to say he strangles his broken mechanical staff in his hands, takes a deep breath, and says in a very tight voice: “No.”

“But—!”

“No. No, no, no. I can’t even believe I did this, I don’t… it’s not happening. No.”

The human—he does actually know her name by now, after all they’ve been through, but also given all of This Nonsense she has lost name privileges—does not take that well. Of course she doesn’t. She’s so fourteen it makes Hunter want to die inside.

“Why not?” the human says, petulant. She has her hands on her hips and everything.

Hunter is kneeling in the rubble of a castle he’s called home for almost all his life. Somewhere down there is the throne where Belos used to sit; somewhere down there is a body. It’s not a surprise, really. It’s not a shock. From the moment the palisman fluttered into his life and Hunter let it stay, he always knew, deep down, that one day he was going to have to choose.

It does not make breathing any easier. “I don’t want to,” he says.

“You can learn wild magic! And, and glyphs! Eda knows a lot—”

“Does the Owl Lady know you’re offering up her house to an old enemy?”

“Eda won’t mind. Well, okay, maybe she’ll mind a little, but— she’ll let you stay if I ask her!” Yeah. The Owl Lady probably would. The human has that witch wrapped around her little finger; Hunter almost snorts. “Please, just hear me out. I’m sure we can—”

“No.”

“Hunter…”

“Don’t talk like we’re friends,” Hunter hisses. He drops the broken remains of the mechanical staff and stands, his hands curled to fists. “Don’t talk like you know me. You don’t know anything. You don’t—” He can’t breathe. He drops back to his knees in the rubble and rubs a hand over his eyes. “Just stop. Please.”

The human doesn’t say anything for a long time. On his shoulder, the palisman, thus far staying silent, flutters its wings and hops down to his knee, nudging his hand with its beak. It sings nothing. Just stays there.

After a moment, the human kneels next to him. There is blood on her face and dirt staining her leggings. “I know,” she says, and she suddenly sounds very tired. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything.

“I just—” the human starts, and then she stops. “I don’t know how else to help you.”

She looks small and weirdly sad, which makes no sense at all, because she hated Belos and never really understood why Hunter did not. (Hunter is not sure why either. If that is still something he can say. If you can betray your uncle and fight against your uncle and—and— and do these things, do everything Hunter has done, and still say that this feeling isn’t hatred.)

They aren’t friends, Hunter and the human. They have barely been allies. He doesn’t need her help, and she probably knows that as well as he does. But Hunter looks at her then, and despite the rubble and the ash and the blood on his tongue, for some reason instead of digging himself a makeshift grave he says—

“…Okay.”

Which still doesn’t really explain anything, but then, that’s just how it goes.

“Okay!” says the Owl Lady, smacking down her second cup of apple blood on the table. She does it too hard—a good splash of blood escapes the confines of the cup and adds yet another stain to her already-stained dining table. Hunter raises an eyebrow. The Owl Lady glares back. “House rules.”

There’s a red mark on her cheek, still, from where Hunter had hit her with his staff, and a stain all down her side from when, upon being hit with the staff, the Owl Lady spluttered and cursed and accidentally spilt the first cup of apple blood all over herself and the floor. She looks… barely awake.

“House rules,” Hunter echoes, dryly.

“Your scorn is noted and not appreciated.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” His palisman pecks his hand lightly. “Ow.”

“Luz, you owe me one,” mutters the Owl Lady, and takes a really deep drink of her apple blood. Hunter rubs at his hand, peeved, and eyes the palisman in case it gets any more hand-pecking ideas. The palisman blinks innocently back. Hmm.

“So. First of all.” The Owl Lady raises a finger. “Break any of my stuff and I end you.”

So just like the castle, then. Hunter sees where this is going. He settles gingerly back against the chair—why, why is all of her furniture stained—and rests his cheek against one fist, already bored. “Noted.”

The Owl Lady puts up a second finger. There’s a long silence.

“…Seriously?” says Hunter.

“Quiet, you.” She snaps her fingers. “Hah! Got one! Hurt King or Luz or Hooty or anyone I like in any way and I’ll destroy you. Yeah, that works.”

Hunter gets the sneaking suspicion these house rules are being made up on the spot, and are also only for him. He knows better than to say that aloud. “Fine.” Wait. “How am I supposed to know which random people you like or dislike?”

The Owl Lady grins. Her gold fang glints. “That sounds like a you problem, don’t you think?” She cackles a little. “Guess you’ll just have to find out! Or, you know. Maybe don’t attack anyone? That’s a start.”

Her owl palisman coos a little. Her nose wrinkles. “What? What do you mean that’s hypocritical? Stay out of this, Owlbert, I’m teaching life lessons or something.” Her eyes turn to him. “Anyway. You get the gist.”

Hunter’s hand is curled white-knuckled around his knee. His palisman flutters from the table to his shoulder, singing nonsense again. Red tulips, so tasty. Its feathers brush against his cheek.

He pries his grip off his knee one finger at a time. “…Understood.”

“Good.” The Owl Lady stands and stretches, yawning wide into one hand. “Anyway, I’ll give you a pass for this morning, because Hooty can be…” She trails off. Outside, muffled by the front door, the bird-worm creature shouts “HOOT” at full volume and then smacks into a tree.

“…a lot,” decides the Owl Lady. “But seriously, keep the windows locked. I don’t want you trying to blast him and burning my house down. I just got it back.”

Hunter says nothing. The Owl Lady squints at him and then picks her mug back up. “Riiiight… well, good talk, I guess. Get some more sleep, kid, you look worse than Luz after an all-nighter.” She waits. Hunter raises an eyebrow at her. “Ugh. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

At least Hunter isn’t the only one second-guessing everything. Still, that reminds him. “The human.”

“Luz,” says the Owl Lady, unimpressed.

“Yeah, whatever.” He links his fingers. The palisman flies down from his shoulder to his cupped hands, and hops a determined circle in his palm for no apparent reason. Hunter watches it play. “…Is she coming back?”

“What, tired of our company already?”

“Yes,” Hunter says, because obviously.

“Rude. Well, can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.” There’s a long silence. The Owl Lady sighs. “Luz… she promised she’d come back. You were there, weren’t you?”

Yeah, he had been. Standing in the back of the group, on the fringes of the goodbye. Two hours after the end, and the human had already roped the Owl Lady into letting Hunter live in her stupid owl house, and also somehow run around hugging pretty much everyone. And then she’d stepped through the mirrors that were all that remained of the realm-merge between her world and theirs, and not come back since.

She had, indeed, promised to return. But that was hours ago; that was yesterday. The mirrors are gone and no doors remain. And Hunter does not put much faith in promises.

“And when,” he asks the Owl Lady, a little lofty, a little snide. “When, exactly, do you think she’s coming back?”

The Owl Lady’s eyes narrow. Her lips press thin. For a moment he thinks she might snap at him, but then her shoulders slump, and in the end she just looks away.

“I don’t know,” the Owl Lady admits.

Useless, Hunter thinks. But he doesn’t say it. Just nods and turns away to head back upstairs and make that stupid dusty storage room somewhat presentable, because if he’s going to be staying here for—for—for whatever amount of time he ends up staying here, he’s going to breathe actual air instead of dust, thanks.

“Remember, kid! House rules!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunter says, and teleports back up the stairs without a single glance back.

Hunter manages to shove all the junk into one corner and make the start of a fairly presentable bed in the other corner by the time the human re-arrives in the Boiling Isles and throws open his door hard enough to smack it against the wall.

“You took my advice!” shouts the human, at the top of her lungs.

“Hiiiiii,” says Hunter, hands over his ears. The human takes a deep breath. Hunter closes the door in her face. “Byeeee.”

“Hey!”

“Why are you yelling.”

“I can’t believe you’re here!”

It’s just nonsensical enough to get him to open the door. Why does this always happen to him? Why is the human like this? “You said I should come here! You said—”

“Psh,” says the human and flaps a hand in his face. Hunter stops mid-word, gritting his teeth, practically feeling his whole face turn bright red with rage. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I just— I didn’t think you would actually listen! But you’re here!” She’s beaming. Hunter looks away. Her smile fades. “…Are you okay?”

He can’t sleep. His eyes are hot and burning like he wants to cry and he has no idea why. His uncle is dead.

“No,” he tells her. “No one in this house dusts. I’ve forgotten what air tastes like.”

“Psh-haw! I’m sure it's not that…” The human steps inside, inhales, and chokes. “Oh. Ay Dios mío. Wow, this room has not been dusted.”

“I noticed!”

“Oh, man.” She hides her nose in her elbow and sidles outside again. She’s wearing her weird human clothes and her palisman staff strapped to her back. She looks tired, and a little like she has no idea what she’s doing here either. She lingers in the door almost awkwardly, rolling back and forth from her heels to her toes.

Hunter watches her for a long moment. “You came back.”

“Haha. What gave it away?” But the smile she gives is small and blinding, brighter than the sun. “Watch this.”

“Watch wha—” The human lifts her hand and trails it through the air, dragging her fingers down in a straight line. Golden light follows her fingers. It breaks the air like a fractured mirror, a rift sparking to life in the hallway, the dark greens and blues of a galaxy intertwined with a burning glow. Hunter’s voice dies in his throat.

“If I push at it, it opens. Like a door. It leads me right home.” She’s smiling so wide it must hurt. The portal almost seems to whisper; the golden glow of the rift shines in her eyes and catches on her face, still tear-streaked. The human’s cried over this. She’s right to. The human world and the Boiling Isles—she has found a way to keep both.

Presumably he thinks he should be jealous. Instead he finds himself smiling too. “I’m glad,” Hunter tells her. “That’s… pretty cool.”

“Right!?” She bounces on her heels and waves a hand through the rift, dismissing it into nothing. “I can’t wait to show Amity. And Eda. And King. And you! The human world is—it’s amazing. The rain doesn’t kill you even a little bit!”

It takes sudden effort to keep up the smile. “…I’ve heard.”

“Anyway, I just came by to say hi. Eda said you were here, and—” She stops, visibly hesitating. Her head lowers. “I know… I know this must be hard. And that we aren’t really friends. But… if you need anyone to talk to… I’m here.” She peeks up her head a little, grinning. “After all, we’re house buddies now!”

“Human,” Hunter says. Her nose wrinkles. He sighs. “Luz.”

“Yeah?”

There’s so much he could say that for a moment he has no idea where to start. Why did you think this was a good idea. Please stop talking. Why are you so insistent that we could be friends. I didn’t say I was staying here for long. I’m very tired. You’re bizarrely forgiving. My uncle is dead because of you.

“…Thanks,” he says. “And— I’m sorry.”

Luz blinks at him. Then she grins. “Noooo problem, ol’ buddy ol’ pal!”

Hunter shoves her stupid smiling face away and closes the door on her toes. Luz yelps and swears and kicks at the door, and yells rude things in that other human language of hers. “Byeeeee,” Hunter says, and behind the closed door, Luz makes a muffled noise of rage and shouts, “Would you stop saying that!?”

And it doesn’t make things better but it doesn’t make things any worse, either, and when Hunter turns away he is almost smiling—so maybe it’s okay.

The sun sets. The dusty room has been aired out to its best ability, and Hunter has made a somewhat functional and comfy-looking bed in the corner. A sticky note with the boiling sea + ice = human rain idea has been ceremoniously pinned to the empty wall space. In addition to the sticky notes, Luz has donated his “sad, bad boy room” what looks to be a dying houseplant. Hunter suspects she gave it to him purely because she has despaired of trying to keep it alive herself.

He puts the plant on the windowsill. The palisman apparently loves it. Maybe he should find red tulips for it to eat. Whatever a red tulip is.

He settles next to the palisman on the windowsill, and strokes its head with his finger. He feels strangled and small and the sunset looks alien to him. Everything has changed. Everything is over. He is a powerless witch with a wild magic staff, and he will never be the Golden Guard again.

His eyes burn. He blinks fast. Far down below, he can hear the Owl Lady and Luz arguing over dinner.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing here,” Hunter tells the palisman. The sunset makes all the trees look shadow-like and sharp, outlined in red. It reminds him of his palisman, a little bit. “I don’t even like these people. What do you think? Is it too late to head back and dig myself a grave in the rubble?”

I’m happy I know you, chirps the palisman. It hops from the dying houseplant to the top of his head. I love you, I love you.

His throat feels tight. “…That still isn’t a real answer.”

I want apple blood for breakfast tomorrow. The palisman nibbles at his hair. It looks tasty.

He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he closes his eyes. “Okay. If— if you say so.”

The sun is setting, and the light is warm on his face. The Boiling Isles feels, for once, almost something like peaceful. It probably won’t last.

“We’ll stay.”

#toh #the owl house #owl house #toh hunter #toh golden guard #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #hunter owl house #owl house fic #toh fic #fic: who we are in the aftermath #fic update

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lovetorn · 3 years

Text

Life Was A Willow [Part 2]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right?

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings for Part 2: violence, mentions of death (familial), swearing

A/N: part 2 !!!! thank you so much for the support and feedback from part 1, omg thank you !! well, i hope you enjoy part 2 ahhhhh !!

It’s 9 pm and Y/n still waits for the signal. She looks in the direction of the Castle and swings her feet back and forth from where she sits on the cottage’s roof.

The air is cold and the trees continue to rustle, the same way they do every day, but tonight, she has an eerie feeling about it. Regret slips into her mind sometimes, telling her that she is foolish for even accepting such a vague invitation by someone she doesn’t even know—but it was so intriguing and she trusts them (she doesn’t exactly know why).

Suddenly, a large pop startles Y/n out of her daze. Sparkles dance in the sky as fireworks burst from the land below. She quickly notes that the explosions are coming from the West side of the Castle and takes that as the signal. Very grand indeed.

Y/n jumps from the roof, landing gracefully on the dirt, and takes off running through the forest. She misses tree roots emerging from the earth and ducks under low branches from the undergrowth. The only thing that lights her path is the moonlight and at this moment, Y/n is thriving. The full moon allows her abilities to heighten and she places her full trust in her instincts.

The fireworks continue to explode and Y/n fills with more adrenaline, the sound making her scream out in joy. She’s excited about the meeting, and she doesn’t even know who it is. And maybe that’s what she’s eager for; the unknown.

The entirety of the concept scared her before, but now she’s exhilarated. And as the show comes to a close, Y/n nears the East side of the Castle. It’s completely silent at this end and the eerie feeling she had before creeps back. It’s not a feeling of uncertainty but one of opportunity and her instincts are telling her to take it.

When she reaches the abandoned cottage, Y/n inhales sharply. There’s no light coming from the house and the door remains closed. As she steps onto the stairs in front, the wood creams beneath her and she scolds for giving away herself to the person inside. Instead of sneaking around, Y/n stomps towards the door and swings it open.

She sees a man in the corner and makes her way towards him, her hands out and ready in case this interaction goes south.

“Who are you? And how do you know me?” Y/n calls out. The man jumps slightly and lifts his head. And in the moonlight flooding in through the window, Y/n recognises him as Dream, even with his mask off. He stands in a white button-up and brown pants, his hunter boots on and a newsboy hat sat on his blonde hair.

“Dream?”

“Hi, Y/n. I knew you would recognise me.” Y/n doesn’t want to look away from him. This is the first time she’s seen his face, and despite the darkness, she sees how handsome he is.

“Why—how? Why did you want to meet me in such a creepy way?” Y/n asks in disgust, picking a cobweb out of her hair and then off of her shoulder; they seem to be everywhere. Her expression falls back to one of admiration when she looks back at him. However, the moonlight lacked the light Y/n needed to see him properly.

Dream laughs slowly. “I forgot to bring a lighter for the lamp. Do you think you could, uh—maybe,”

“Glady,” Y/n sighs and flicks her hand towards the candle in the glass encasing. It immediately comes to life and the room becomes brightly lit. Her eyes fall onto Dream again and she finally sees him; his piercing green eyes and the scar that runs from the top of his left temple to the corner of his lip.

“Wow,” Dream mumbles under his breath. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, and I know that everybody I know would, just, obliterate me for even thinking about doing this, but I needed to talk to you about—“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right, right...”

Y/n squints at the man and then tilts her head. “Whose C?”

Dream’s eyes widen as he nods. “Yeah, uh, that’s me. My name’s Clay.”

The witch doesn’t say anything as she stares at him. “So why do they call you Dream?”

This isn’t where Dream thought the conversation would go, but he’s happy they’re not fighting.

“My mother came up with the nickname when I was born. I nearly didn’t make it and then through some miracle, I did. So, she called me her Dream.” Y/n can tell the story makes him emotional, so she doesn’t push any further.

“That’s really sweet, Dream.” And at the sound of his real name, Dream perks up slightly before he cracks a smile. Y/n grins back at him; a real genuine smile. The pair stand in the low lit room in comfortable silence, until Y/n’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“What did you want to talk about?” She asks. Dream nods once and continues from where he was cut off before.

“I wanted to discuss the possibility of a truce between witches and hunters,” Dream isn’t smiling anymore, instead his lips are screwed up and his hands fidget in front of him. Y/n, however, grins even bigger.

“I’m all for that, honestly. I’m tired of being on edge every day and being scared for my life. If we can find a way to create peace, even for a little bit, I’m on board.” Y/n keeps it short for now, not wanting to scare him off by how passionate she feels about the situation.

Dream’s eyes light up at the sound of her agreeing. “Really?” Y/n nods and becomes surprised when she feels Dream’s arms wrap around her. “Thank you, thank you.”

“No, Dream, thank you! I’ve been trying to convince people of this for years. I’m really glad that you feel the same way.” The pair pull apart and Dream flicks his eyes down to Y/n’s lips for a split second.

“You’re so pretty,” Y/n nearly chokes at his comment. Dream feels his cheeks burn when the words tumble out and soon they’re both flustered. “Sorry! Oh my, I’m sorry, that didn't mean to slip out—”

“Dream, it’s fine. I think you’re pretty too; especially without the mask.”

The hunter swats the witch’s shoulder playfully. “Stop~” The pair laugh together, and then proceed to stand in another comfortable silence. The wind howls and whistles outside and makes the cottage creak, adding to the eerie aura that surrounds it.

“What’s with the hat? It’s nighttime.”

Dream plucks the accessory off of his head and runs his opposite hand through his hair, the soft locks falling back into place when his hand returns to his side. “Part of the disguise, duh.”

Y/n squints at him, her expression morphing into one of mischief. “Isn’t the mask a disguise in itself, though? Also, put the hat back on, you look handsome with it.” It’s time for Dream to blush now. He covers his face with his hat and scoffs softly. “Y/n!”

The girl slaps her hand over her mouth to muffle her embarrassed laughs. “It’s true!”

The man rolls his eyes before placing the hat back on his head. “Happy?”

Y/n nods before telling him to answer about the mask.

“Well, no, nobody at the Castle actually knows what I look like—except for my best friends, Sapnap and George.”

“George? As in Prince George?” Y/n is shocked, to say the least. She now understands why Dream is so passionate about the peace between the Hunters and Witches. Prince George is known for his differing morals and ideas from his family, which makes him stand out from the other Royals. Y/n admires his bravery and courage to do so.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were young. I’m jealous that he can be so open with his opinions in that Castle—Lord knows if I was, I'd be executed,” This makes Y/n’s stomach drop. “But, it’s okay, with your help, hopefully, we can convince humans and magical-kind alike, that there can be peace. A—And we can live together in harmony, without being consumed by the overbearing thought of death every moment of our lives.”

Dream stops his tangent, his face flushed and his eyes pleading. Y/n feels like crying; she has waited years for someone to be as passionate as her about this topic. “I’ll help you, Dream, no matter what; because I wholeheartedly believe we can do this. I trust you.”

Y/n shocks herself with this statement; she’s never trusted a human before.

“And I trust you Y/n.” The pair stare at each other, smiles spread across their cheeks as the night outside slips away, and then it’s just them; standing in the main area of a small, abandoned cottage that sits East of the Castle, lit up with a lantern that casts a warm glow over the pair. Y/n can almost say it looks and feels magical.

“Ok, enough flirting, let’s get planning on the truce. Sounds like a plan, doll?” Dream gives her a lopsided smile and Y/n feels her heart rate increase at the sight of him.

“Where were you?” Wilbur says. His voice is deeper than usual and fits in perfectly with the way he’s sitting ominously in the dark. Y/n stops tiptoeing towards her room and turns to face him; defeated that she got caught. However, she still remains giddy and her heart beats faster for other reasons.

“I was meeting with Schlatt—I need more toadstools for a potion I’m making.”

Wilbur squints at her, his lips curling into a frown. “I know you’re lying, and so does Niki.”

Y/n sighs and starts walking towards him. “I’m sorry—“ She pauses when she sees Wilbur shake his head.

“Don’t.”

Y/n screws her lips together and nods once. Her once excited demeanour fading away when she sees Wilbur’s look of disappointment. “I was meeting one of the new hunters, Dream.”

Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, “What? Why?”

“We’re formulating a truce amongst witches and hunters.”

He raises his eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. “Okay? And why are you doing this? We don’t need peace.”

“Uh, so we’re not in danger every living second?” Y/n’s nerves grow into anger. “Why are you so against the chance of maybe, finally getting this?”

Wilbur shakes his head and stands up, the chair screeching against the wood floors as he moves. “Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds?”

Y/n is at a loss for words while the tall man rolls his eyes and leaves, avoiding her as he circles around her to walk down the hallway.

His abrupt exit confuses Y/n. Why is Wilbur so against peace with the Hunters?

—

Dream manages to sneak into the Hunter’s Wing before they lock the front doors for the night. He sits silently on the bench in the training room and slips his boots off, making sure to place them on the floor as quiet as possible. He takes his hat off of his head and holds it in his palms, smiling stupidly at the inanimate object. The flame in the lantern next to him is fizzling out and it's hard to see 4 feet in front of him.

“Dream?” Even in his daze, Dream can sense the anger and fear in Sapnap’s voice.

“Sapnap? Why are you awake?” The younger boy walks out from the hallway and towards him.

“Me? Where were you? It’s midnight.”

Dream sighs and rests the hat on the bench next to him. “I was out.”

“Out? You mean meeting with the witch?”

Dream’s eyes widen. “How do you know that?”

“Fireworks don’t just go off for no reason, Dream. And I found the note in your room.” Sapnap says, ripping the letter from his pyjama bottoms pocket.

“Just say you have a crush on her, Dream!” Sapnap yells, throwing his arms up in defeat.

“I don't—I promise, Sapnap.”

“Fine, if you don’t like the witch, then kill her.” Dream’s dumbfounded. He stares at his best friend with such bewilderment that even Sapnap feels a twinge of guilt. Dream sighs, carding his hand through his hair in frustration and confusion.

He doesn’t reply, even when George arrives in a hurry, still in the process of wrapping a dressing gown around his body.

“What’s happened? I heard yelling.” The pair remain frozen, refusing to meet the Prince’s glare as they avoid eye contact.

George shakes his head, “Has this got to do with Dream meeting with the witch?”

“George! How do you know, too?”

George huffs. “I know everything that happens in and outside of my Castle. But, fireworks? Really?”

Dream throws his hands down in frustration. “Yes, fireworks! It was a good distraction and it was a signal for her anyway.”

George eyes the blonde before he crosses his arms over his chest. “As much as you hate to admit it, it's obvious that you’re fond of her, Dream. And no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side, okay? You know that.”

“What the fuck?” Sapnap spits. “You have his back? George, I can tolerate your ideals about the magical kind, but this is the witch who killed half of the hunter population.”

Dream stills. “What?”

“You’ve gone and done it now, Sapnap!”

“Y/n killed people?”

“Dream—“ George goes to speak, but he’s cut off by Sapnap.

“Yes! That’s why I’ve been trying to warn you! Why do you think we got this job so easily?” Dream stares at the concrete floor, his heart dropping into his stomach. He can’t believe it, he refuses to.

“Sapnap!” George snaps. The younger boy cowers away slightly, his once confronted facade crumbling at the sound of the Prince's tone. “Stop it, right now. You are in no place to tell him this, okay? You may be my best friend but that doesn’t excuse you from doing this.”

Dream chews on his bottom lip quietly as he watches Sapnap turn around and stomp out of the training room, but not before he scrunches up the letter and throws it on the floor. “Thanks.”

George’s gaze remains on the door. “Don’t thank me. He should know better anyway, considering his last relationship.”

The blonde nods once, reminding himself of the youngest boy’s past relationship with a fairy from the kingdom next door. Dream lets out a laugh at the thought.

For the next few days, Y/n hears nothing from Dream. She worries for him, has he been caught?

She stands on the porch of her cottage, hoping, begging for a sign that he is okay. Clouds plague the blue skies above and Y/n knows the bad omens swirling around the kingdom are the cause—and the inside of Niki’s crystal ball had burst with black and dark red clouds which had only confirmed her suspicions.

The wind howls through the trees and calls to her, speaking words of concern under its tongue. Y/n rolls her eyes and sighs, she knows to be careful, especially with the humans inching closer to their world.

However, a faint voice draws Y/n’s attention away from the wind and to the well in the corner of the garden. The sound confuses her at first, and then the wind’s guidance is forgotten as she makes her way towards it. The short fence around the area is still broken from the fight with the hunters weeks ago, and nobody has had a chance to repair it yet, so Y/n takes it upon herself to fix it.

The whispers from the well become a string of mumbles and are impossible to decipher as Y/n kneels with her back towards the forest—and for the first time, she is anxious about what lies within it.

But, before she can even begin picking up the pieces of wood, the sound of someone approaching her at a fast pace alerts Y/n immediately. She spins around with her hands out and is shocked when she sees Dream with his sword raised. The ground moves beneath her feet as she uses the earth’s power to aid her in meeting his strength.

“Dream?” She screams, her body struggling to resist the force of his weapon. Sparkles fall from her fingertips as she pushes back.

“You killed an entire army of people, Y/n!” Dream’s tone is low and angry and Y/n knows he would have found out eventually.

“Dream, I didn’t do that!” Y/n exclaims and Dream swings his sword backwards.

“How can I trust you? Hm? After all, you’ve killed people!” Y/n could cry at his utter naivety. She drops her arms by her sides as Dream glares at her in pure disgust.

“Instead of fighting, can we talk about this?” Y/n pleas. Her feet move swiftly beneath her, maneuvering her body away from Dream’s sword.

Suddenly, Dream brings the sword down to slice into Y/n’s arm, but a force pushes it back towards him, making the blade fly high into the air before it clatters onto the ground.

Y/n stands with her hands out, remnants of glitter falling around her fingers. “I told you! I’d never do that, and I have proof.”

“Proof?” Dream still stares at his sword, unable to meet Y/n’s eye.

“Proof. Now, how about we calm down and I’ll show it to you. Okay? Sounds like a plan?” Dream nods slowly, turning his head to face her. Finally, his green eyes soften and the raging fire that burns within them fizzles out.

“Okay.”

Y/n sighs before she begins. “When a witch kills an innocent; a human, they gain a marking on the back of their neck to signify the betrayal of the harmony between the two. However, since King James, that peace has been terminated; hence his need for hunters, like yourself.

“But, anyway, everybody in this damn kingdom thinks I killed those hunters, but I don’t have the mark,” Y/n turns around, her hand going to lift up her hair from her neck. The skin is clear, with no markings, nothing.

Dream nods, furrowing his eyebrows. “How do I know you didn’t just cast a spell to make it disappear?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “There’s no way to cover up the marking; it’ll just shine through whatever you put over it. It’s permanent and very obvious.”

“I told you, Dream, I didn’t kill them. I’d never kill an innocent.”

“Why didn’t you show them, then? You've had proof this entire time and never thought to actually show anyone?” Dream is bewildered. Y/n nods slowly, understanding his argument.

“I don't need to prove myself to your kind.” Is all she says. Dream waits for her to continue but soon realises she's not going to. “Fair point.”

“So, why did you come at me swinging? Did you really believe I would do that?” She whispers and Dream feels his heart sink. He is speechless for a few moments—did he really think that? Or was he feeding into Sapnap’s ideology of witches?

“S—Sapnap convinced me of things. I didn’t believe it at first, but the more he went on—I guess he got into my head.”

Y/n cocks her eyebrow and scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, he did. You could’ve easily killed me with the amount of anger you had.”

This makes Dream’s breath catch in his throat. “I—I’m so sorry, Y/n. That was never my intention—”

The witch shakes her head and holds her hand up. “It’s okay, Dream. You didn’t offend me. I’m still here, with you, right? Isn’t that enough to tell you that I’m not angry?”

“Yes! Yes, sorry—”

“Stop saying sorry, it’s annoying.” Y/n giggles, holding her hand out to grasp Dream’s.

“So—”

“Dream!”

The cottage is quiet, too quiet, and Y/n walks into the small kitchen, hoping to bake a cake to cure her boredom. But, Wilbur sits at the round dining table, his beanie and a sewing needle in his hands.

“Wil, I wanted to talk to you,” Y/n mumbles, pulling out a chair. Wilbur doesn’t meet her eye as she does so, continuing to patch up his beanie that got ripped on a tree last week.

“Why are you against harmony with humans?”

Wilbur sighs softly. He places the beanie on the table and turns to face Y/n. “Y/n, when I was young, I lived amongst the humans in a town not far from here. We tried as hard as we could to mix in and not draw attention to ourselves.”

The girl listens intently, both curious and scared for his answer. She can tell the story makes him anxious so she reaches for his hand that lays on the wooden table. “Go on, Wil. I’m here.”

Wilbur nods, his eyes already full of tears as he continues.

“However, one day, my family decided to move to a more secluded area within the town, so my father could teach me more about magic without the risk of being caught. When we entered our new cottage in the forest, we were ambushed and they killed my entire family, leaving me, the only child, alone. I was left there, with my parents' bodies for weeks. I was made to fend for myself until I found Niki in a cave several years later. I was only 7, Y/n.”

Tears cascade down both of their cheeks. Wilbur takes in a shaky breath before he collapses onto the table out of grief. Y/n immediately leaps into action, wrapping her arms around the older man and letting him use her for support. His broken sobs and heart-wrenching cries stab Y/n all over, and she immediately regrets asking him about it.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Wilbur,” She didn’t push anymore, and that was all Wilbur needed.

#life was a willow fic #lwaw #dream x reader #dream imagine #dream imagines #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagines #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt imagines #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp imagine #dream x fem!reader #dream x female reader #dreamwastaken

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i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 3 years

Text

A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval Au

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: talk of arranged marriage, light swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<Part 6<

Part 7

Almost a full month had passed by since you returned home and things had not been the same. Life in York New felt different.

Tony had found out about the attack in Brook (you were sure Peter had something to do with it) and ordered for extra guards to be around you at all times. That was no fun at all. You couldn't even go into the gardens without spotting someone watching you.

Tony had also started searching for the perfect husband for you. He had asked for your opinion on the matter but what could you offer, you hardly knew any of them. The only concern you had voiced was that to do with King Brock. 'I would rather slit my own throat than marry him.' You thought Tony was going to pass out right in front of you when you spoke those words.

"We're what?" Your brow pinched together in confusion as you looked up to your brother.

The two of you were walking through the castle halls, making your way towards the great hall to join Pepper and Morgana for lunch. Tony had been in a meeting the whole morning and as soon as it was finished he had you sent to him so the two of you could talk.

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. "Having a ball."

"For what?"

"Don't you listen to anything I say?" Tony let out a frustrated sigh as he came to a stop and effectively stopping you as he tugged on your arm. "I'm close to making my decision and I thought, this would be a good way for you to get to know the men who may become your future husband." You scowled at him like a petulant child. "... And it's also a good way for you to meet King's from the neighbouring kingdoms. Strengthen ties with those that you one day will have alliances with."

"... Oh," You let out a soft sigh before you chewed on your bottom lip. "Very well. You, for once, make sense." You grinned playfully at him.

"Enough of the cheek, Princess," Tony smirked and offered his arm to you once more so the two of you could continue to the great hall. "There's also another reason I thought I'd let you know." He smiled softly at you, "You'll need to start designing your ball gown, won't you."

Your eyes widened with excitement, "But, you or Pepper usually have the final say to make sure it's 'to proper standards of a princess'," You rolled your eyes.

Tony sighed, "Yes, well... you're twenty-one in a few months, and you will be marrying, and leaving me, so... it's time you made your own decisions," You opened your mouth, a hint of hope shining in your eyes. "About gowns, Y/N." Tony quickly corrected. He chuckled as you scoffed and pouted once more. "C'mon, I'm sure Morgana will be excited to help with your ball gown."

You nodded trying to hide your grin. If you were being honest, you were looking forward to it. You never had free rein over anything like that.

You cleared your throat after a moments silence, "I'm sorry," You whispered looking up to your brother.

Tony frowned at you, "For what, Y/N?"

You sighed softly. "For the way that I have been acting towards the 'future husband'... thing." You furrowed your brow, "I've been behaving like a child, and I should be more adult about the situation." You let out a small breath, "I know you... must do this for the kingdom."

"Y/N," Tony let out a sigh as he placed his free hand over the top of yours that laid on his arm. "You have every right to be upset. If there was anything I could do to stop this, I would."

"You're King, you could change the law." You spoke in an optimistic tone.

Tony let out a regretful sigh as he shook his head. "Not with matters like this. The council have to have their input too and-" He sighed deeply. "Well, we both know how they can be." He frowned deeply. "You know, I will choose who I know will treat you kindly. They're all good men, Y/N."

You pouted, "Even Prince Loki?"

"I only put him on the list to please his brother," Tony chuckled softly.

You nodded, "And... King Brock? Who did you have to please there?" You whispered.

Tony could hear the fear in your voice. "The council wanted me to be fair to all kingdoms and demanded I made it look like I was trying to put the effort in to strengthen ties with kingdoms such as East Lower." He grumbled the last few words. "Please, believe me, Y/N, when I say that man or any that are like him, will never hurt you."

"But, East Lower is the weakest tie we have... King Brock is the perfect 'future husband' for the council. We'll strengthen ties and he'll beat the respect into me, just like the council have always wanted." You gulped as tears formed in your eyes.

Tony sighed as he once more stopped before you came to the doors of the great hall. He reached up and placed his large hand over your cheek and ran his thumb under your eye, catching the tear that fell. "I may not be able to change the law, Y/N, but I have the final say. I promise you, Y/N, you'll be safe from harm when I make my decision. Okay?" He nodded giving you a gentle, reassuring smile.

You breathed in a shaky breath and nodded, "Okay..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @fckdeusername @vxidnik @coffeebooksandfandom @flowery-mess @inumorph

#king!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #marvel #Steve Rogers x reader #King!Steve Rogers #King!Steve Rogers x Princess!Stark!reader #Medieval au #Steve Rogers x reader smut #King!Steve Rogers x Princess!reader smut

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years

Text

Brilliant (F.W.)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: Fred needs some help with school work

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: None

AN: Hi everyone! Please just pretend that Fred didn’t get banned from quidditch in his seventh year please and thank you.

It was no secret that school was not one of Fred Weasley’s strong suits. He’d much rather spend his time goofing off with his brother, playing quidditch, or planning for the shop than spending countless hours completing assignments and studying for exams. He simply had better things to do. And while he knew that his future laid outside the realm of academic achievements, not everyone quite believed him. Or more accurately, believed in him.

So that was how he ended up in Snape’s office after class, the potions professor staring at him with his arms crossed and McGonagall looking down at him.

“Mr. Weasley do you know why we have called you here?” McGonagall asked sternly. Fred squirmed slightly in his seat.

“I’m not sure Minnie,” he said with a cocky smirk, “I may need you to enlighten me.” Snape scoffed from the other side of the desk.

“Well, first of all, I must remind you that my name is Professor McGonagall and you shall not call me by anything else,” she said seriously. Fred’s grin never faltered. “But it has come to attention that you are failing potions,” McGonagall said. Fred was surprised for a moment. He knew that he wasn’t doing particularly well, but he never imagined that he was failing. He turned and saw Snape smirking at him.

“If you have any interest in passing my class and graduating, I expect you to get a tutor,” Snape said eventually, a hint of smugness entering his tone. Fred frowned. The thing was, he didn’t intend to graduate. He and George were planning to leave in a few months anyway, was it really worth the hassle?

“I think I’ll pass on the tutor,” Fred said, making a move to leave the office. A hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Not so fast Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall warned. Fred turned to face her.

“Yes Minnie?” he asked with an annoyed smile.

“If you want to continue to play quidditch this year, I suggest that you take Professor Snape up on that offer and get a tutor,” McGonagall said with a frown. Fred froze.

“What?” he asked, slightly panicked.

“If your grade in potions does not improve to at least an acceptable, I can not let you participate in the quidditch season,” McGonagall explained. Fred let out a long sigh.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “Just give me the place and time.”

Fred was dreading having to go to the library to meet his tutor. It was early on a Saturday morning and he’d much rather be out with George and Lee than meeting some stuffy tutor in the library. Snape had told him who would be assigned to help him and Fred couldn’t help but grumble at the name. (Y/n) (L/n). (Y/n) was top of their year and the current Ravenclaw headgirl. She had taken an unspeakable amount of points away from Fred and his brother and she was always the first to raise her hand in class. She was the kind of person who was so smart that it was almost obnoxious.

Truly, he was in no position to judge the girl. He really did not know her and most likely had never even spoken to her outside of class before. But he was mad that he had to trudge across the castle at eight in the morning and that he actually had to open his books for once and the easiest way to cope was to blame it on her.

When Fred arrived at the library he saw her sitting in a corner. He was surprised to see that she looked just as tired as he was- her hair was messy and she was rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. She yawned as she spotted him and waved him over quickly. As he made his way over to her, Fred couldn’t help but chuckle. She was wearing a completely oversized jumper that covered her hands with the sleeves. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair looked as if she had run her hands through it countless times already. If anything, she looked more miserable than him.

“There you are,” she said as Fred slipped in a chair across from her.

“Sorry if I’m late,” he grumbled, plopping his books on the table.

“It’s fine,” she responded, “Snape had no business scheduling this session this early in the morning.” Fred laughed.

“Not a morning person then?” he asked. She groaned and shook her head.

“Not at all,” she said, scrunching up her nose. Fred’s bad mood slowly started to disappear. (Y/n) pulled out a roll of parchment and her quills, motioning for Fred to do the same.

“I figured that we could start the essay that’s due in two weeks, that way I can get a feeling of where you are,” you stated. Fred pulled out his materials. If he was being honest, he didn’t even know that there was an essay due in two weeks.

“Okay,” she started, opening up the textbook. “We have to write an essay detailing the process of how to make a befuddlement drought,” (Y/n) stated. Fred furrowed his eyebrows. He thought back to the previous class when he and George had royally screwed up that exact potion.

“Can you tell me what goes into a befuddlement drought?” she asked, peering up at him expectantly. Fred just stared at his parchment, completely and utterly clueless.

“I have no idea,” he said, turning to take a peek at her textbook. (Y/n) jumped to cover the recipe with her hands. He looked up at her, confusion etched into his face.

“Come on Fred,” she said, “I know you know this.” Fred scoffed.

“You’re giving me too much credit (L/n),” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. (Y/n) just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh come on. You’re incredibly smart I’m sure you know this,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him. Fred audibly laughed at this, causing Madame Pince to shush him.

“I may be many things,” Fred said, “but smart is not necessarily one of them.” (Y/n) narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh come off it Fred,” she said, “I’ve seen your products, you’d have to be incredibly smart to make them.” Fred furrowed his eyebrows.

“That’s different though. I’m not good at the things we have to do in class,” Fred stated.

“Just because you have trouble with classwork doesn’t mean you’re not smart. I couldn’t do half the things that you and your brother do,” (Y/n) replied. Fred scoffed.

“Oh come on! You’re basically the smartest witch in our year. You always get top marks in potions,” Fred said, making another reach for the textbook. She swatted his hand away playfully, an endearing gesture that made him smile.

“That’s because I’m good at following directions. I always do what people tell me to do,” she said, staring at him intently.

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Fred asked, leaning against his hands. (Y/n) shook her head and laughed.

“Of course not, Fred! If I was told to make a potion but I wasn’t given a recipe, I’d fail. I’m good at memorization but I don’t genuinely have a good understanding of the subject,” she said. Fred frowned, not quite understanding. “I know that you’re better at potions than me because you know what ingredients to put together to make a specific kind of reaction, I could never do that,” she explained further.

“Fine. I guess I have a general understanding of the subject. But I still don’t know the recipe for the befuddlement drought and I need to pass this essay if I want to play in the match next weekend. So if you could kindly hand this over,” he said, reaching once again for her book. She snapped it shut and laid her arms across it.

“Okay let’s think of this differently,” she said, “If you and your brother wanted to make a potion for your business that was supposed to make whoever ingested it extremely confused and disoriented, what would you put in it?” Fred leaned back in his chair, mulling over the answer.

“I guess some scurvy grass? Maybe some sneezwort?” he said after a moment. When he looked back up at (Y/n), she was smiling widely at him.

“Exactly!” she proclaimed. Fred’s jaw dropped slightly.

“Wait really?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/n) opened up the textbook and flipped it towards him. She dragged her finger to the top and traced the words on the page.

“You just named the two key ingredients,” she said proudly. Fred smiled at her, feeling his pride swell slightly.

“See,” she said, “I told you that you were smart.” Fred let out a chuckled.

“Eh, still not sure about that. I am devilishly handsome though,” he replied. She scoffed at his response before turning back to the book. And then, quietly, she murmured, “Well I think you’re brilliant.” Fred froze at her words and flushed deeply. They were spoken so softly that he wasn’t sure that he was even intended to hear them. The ardent way in which she mumbled those words and the soft determination behind them made it sound as if she was stating a fact, a rule of the universe. It sounded as if she was sure that sun rose in the east, that the sun set in the west, and that Fred Weasley was brilliant. The compliment was unlike one he had ever gotten before. So earnest and so simple. Fred wasn’t sure if he had ever even been called smart, let alone brilliant, before this morning, and he was certain he had never heard it so impassioned. The way that (Y/n) muttered the simple phrase almost made him believe it.

Fred began to look forward to his early morning tutoring sessions with (Y/n). Sure, he felt like he was learning and improving at the subject, but mostly he just enjoyed her company. She was funny in a softspoken way, her small quips sneaking up on him and making his face hurt from smiling. She was sweet, always reassuring him that he was capable of learning the material. She was also very cute, with her large sweaters and sleepy eyes, blushing whenever he flirted with her. He was almost sad to think that if his grades improved he would have to stop seeing her. Never in his life did Fred think he would enjoy studying this much.

The day that Fred turned in his potions essay, (Y/n) gave him an encouraging smile from across the room. He had written the whole thing by himself, recalling the information that he and (Y/n) went over in their sessions. He had never been so confident in an assignment and had never been so excited to turn one in. He wanted nothing more than for (Y/n) to be proud of him.

A few days later he got the essay back, Snape dropping it upsidedown on his desk. Fred snapped his eyes up to meet his professor’s, who only grimaced in response. He suddenly felt exceedingly nervous. What if his work hadn’t paid off? He didn’t want to face you if he had done poorly.

As he flipped over the parchment he could barely contain his smile. A large E sat across the top of the page. Exceeds expectations.

As the entire class filed out of the classroom, Fred waited for (Y/n) by the door. He leaned against the wall of the dungeons, waiting for her to pass the threshold and escape the classroom. When (Y/n) finally walked out, Fred scooped her up in a hug before she could even register that he was there.

“Fred!” she squealed as he picked her up and spun her around. When he placed her back onto the floor, his hands still on her waist, he couldn’t hold back the happiness that he felt.

“I’ll take it that you did well?” (Y/n) laughed, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“It seems that I have exceeded expectations,” Fred stated, puffing out his chest. She chuckled, her hands still clutching the fabric of his cloak.

“I’m so proud of you!” she said, staring into his eyes with the ghost of a giggle still gracing her lips. Fred threw his head back.

“I’m so excited I could kiss you!” Fred shouted with a laugh. If it was possible, she flushed darker.

“Fred!” she exclaimed, swatting him lightly in the chest. Fred captured her hand before leaning closer.

“I’m sorry darling but I’m not sure if I can help myself,” he said softly, a smirk playing at his lips. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at him.

“You get a guy one good mark and suddenly he’s falling at your feet,” she grumbled, sending him a playful look. Fred laughed heartily at her joke.

“Very funny smarty-pants,” he replied. She looked up at him, smiling widely. She took one look around the deserted hallway before she took Fred by surprise and kissed him herself. She pulled him closer by his robes and stood on her toes to reach his tall frame. Fred gripped her waist tighter and melted into her, smiling slightly. After a moment they broke apart, blushing and smiling widely.

“Eh not bad Weasley,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Not bad?” Fred sputtered, caught off guard by her response.

“But don’t worry. I’ve already proven that I’m a magnificent tutor, I think I can help you out with this too.”

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