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meshlasolus · 4 months

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Don’t Blame Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: i am so tired and everyone hates me but hey at least i still have dbf joel

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, some smut, probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am… again

This one is awkward ngl

Decided on the song ‘Don’t blame me’ by taylor swift bc I’m a swiftie and what else was i supposed to put?

MASTERLIST

reader is like 21/22, joel is 37

“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”

“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”

The temp job was easy, mostly because Joel did most of the heavy lifting. It had been all fun and games for the first week, standing by him and watching him work, handing him the specific tools when he asked. Seemed like a dream job in most aspects, getting to sit and look pretty while the man you’re sneaking around with gets all hot and sweaty, his arms a bulging mass of muscle under the short sleeves of his dark t-shirt.

He would often smirk when he sensed you were taking him in, admiring the view from where the toolbox was sitting. He would tease you relentlessly for it, of course, as is his way… but it didn’t stop your glances and forbidden stares.

A whole week it had been this way, and you were more than happy to keep the flow of things going, but unfortunately on Sunday night, Joel got sick.

It was just a fever, nothing he couldn’t sleep off in a few days. He’d called you on Monday morning before he even called anyone else at the site. They all wished him well and sent their little ‘get better soon’ messages thereafter, while you offered to drop by later with some ‘sick day’ supplies. He told you he didn’t want you catching whatever he had, and you understood that if you were sick, too, the odds of seeing each other would get lower.

Week number two, the first several days of which were spent without Joel, and doing far too much heavy lifting of your own. There was another woman working with you all, and they supposed that two of you could make up for one Joel. You didn’t even realize how truly strong he was until you had to carry the weight he normally did. Even with another person, it was tiring and straining, and downright gruesome on your muscles. You’d been sore every night you went home.

As soon as Joel came back, you’d have to remember to help him out a bit more, because there’s no way he enjoys not being assisted. He always insists you don’t have to, but you’ve learned how hard it is, so you want to.

Thursday, Joel’s first day back at work, not feeling completely himself, but better enough to come into work and make some progress.

You paid mind when he bent down to lift a heavy beam that should have taken two men to carry.

“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”

“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”

He gave you a look, narrow eyes and furrowed brows, “Save it for what?”

You shrugged, beginning to walk backwards once he had his part lifted high enough to move the beam. You looked over your shoulder a few times to make sure you weren’t gonna crash into anything.

“Just don’t want you to keep gettin’ sick. Been missin’ you,” you admitted, waiting for his reaction. He’d been feeling the same way, you knew. He’d sent you texts after you got home from work everyday to tell you so.

“Missed you too, baby,” he set down his end once you both reached the correct spot on the interior, kicking it into place by the rest of the framework.

You smiled sweetly at him, continuing the work as if nothing happened. As if your heart didn’t skip a beat from hearing those words in person, in his voice, dripping with the Texan drawl you were so fond of. It was comforting, it was familiar, and it gave you a sense of security.

By the time Monday rolled around again, the framework had been completed and the electrical and plumbing started to take place. This was less of Joel’s and your dad’s specialty, but they still always showed up to oversee everything being done on time and to the company’s standards.

This, of course, meant that you were nearly obsolete, and didn’t need to show up for the next few days. Now that you were the one being barred from doing any work, you had to come up with other excuses to drop by Joel’s after he came home from work.

‘You left your jacket on our couch, and I wanted you to have it back before it gets cold out.’

‘My dad made a really good four cheese lasagna, I brought you some to try.’

It was always so much harder to figure out a time or place to meet up, since he and your dad worked together, and Sarah was almost always at the house after school.

He knew you were going stir crazy, and even though he’d been tired and worn, he knew he had to see you… alone.

You were in the kitchen rinsing out your cereal bowl when your phone buzzed on the counter top.

Sarah’s going over with a friend to spend the night, I’m on my way home right now.

Is that an invitation?

Damn right it is.

You smiled wide, not even bothering to do anything else with the bowl in your hand. You dropped it in the sink and went galavanting about your house and up to your room. Your dad would probably be getting home about the same time as Joel, maybe a bit later, but you figured you should wait to see him before you leave for the night. You’d feel even more guilty if you just shot him a text and left for his best friend’s place, right next door for the night.

You got wrapped up in a sweatshirt and some jogging shorts, grabbing your backpack and phone charger, swinging around the doorway and back down the stairs.

As luck would have it, the sound of keys in the door caught you just as you reached the bottom. You dad pushed through the door, his yawn of exhaustion clearly evident. He hooked the keys on the wall hanger beside him, then turned to see you, pulling the straps of your bag up your arms.

“Hey there, lovebug,” he smiled, taking a few steps up to hug you around the neck and peck the top of your head. “Where are you off to?”

You thought for only a split second before forming a story.

“Nowhere in particular… just got invited by some friends to drive around and get some fast food.”

Very convincing, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“Kids these days, I’ll tell ya… back n’ my day we used to go to movies or walk around a mall. Used to do actual activities n’ things.”

You rolled your eyes, letting him rant on about the ‘strange ways’ of your generation.

“Well, we aren’t kids, but we are easily entertained. I’ll see you later, though.”

You gave him a pat on his shoulder and a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door. Right before it shut, you could hear your dad fumbling around in the kitchen. He would probably be distracted for a while.

Your face turned giddy as soon as you looked over to see Joel’s truck had been parked. You tried to look as nonchalant as possible, walking plainly over to the house next door, just in case there were any neighbors looking through an open window. You had no qualms about being near or with Joel, but you did have a problem with outside people making it their topic of conversation in the neighborhood gossip chain.

You got up to the door, and knocked, the door opening within maybe five seconds or less. The response time was near immediate, and you wondered if he’d been sitting in his chair near the door.

“Hi there, I’m here to tell you about our lord and savior Jesus Christ,” you said seriously when he leaned into the doorframe, only breaking your facade when he stood there, unamused. You let out a giggle and at the noise he dropped his hard exterior.

He rolled his eyes and nodded inside before stepping back enough to allow you entrance.

“How was work?” You asked, dropping your backpack on the chair and waiting for him to close the door.

“S’ alright. Mostly just a long and boring day with nothing pretty to see.”

“I’m sure my absence had nothing to do with that,” you remarked sarcastically, letting him take the last few steps to meet you. He looked so tired, and yet, completely awake just at the sight of you.

“No, nothing at all.”

He took you into his arms and leaned down by your ear, whispering the last part of his words to you. It had been several days since you could stand like this, out of sight of others, their prying eyes all but away to witness the way he held you and squeezed you tightly.

He smelled of sweat and concrete powder, which, though wasn’t a horribly unpleasant smell, you felt it couldn’t be comfortable to have it all over one's body.

“Why don’t you head up to the shower and I’ll order a pizza?” You suggested, pulling back to see his worn out face, feeling the deep inhale of his breath by his chest. He let it out with a hunch of his shoulders as he replied.

“I got food here, I can cook up sum’ quick-”

“Joel you’re exhausted, and besides… I got dominoes rewards,” you joked, pressing up to kiss the tip of his nose. There was no room for protest after that, and he nodded in agreement before pulling away to head upstairs.

He had half a mind to ask you to join him, but having not crossed that line before, he didn’t really know what was on and what was off of the table. He shook the thought from his mind, going into his bathroom and starting the water.

The domesticity was intoxicating. Hugging you after he got home from a long work day, of which he missed seeing your face. Seeing your smile and hearing your laugh and all the little gestures you make that you don’t even realize you’re doing. Sending him upstairs to get cleaned up only so he can come back down to you and eat pizza on the couch together. He hated how much he loved it, relaxed into it, even.

It’s almost too good to be true… and maybe it is. Because while you fit him perfectly, and while you both can pick up without missing a beat, you’re still the kid next door. His best friend’s daughter, and someone he should absolutely not be doing anything stupid with. That’s exactly what this was, wasn’t it? Stupidity. There’s no way this relationship ends well. Whether your dad comes around, or Sarah does, or the entire town for that matter. Whether or not his reputation is ruined, or yours. Nothing good can come from sneaking around, the quiet embraces or the late night stolen kisses. But you can’t stop, and neither can he.

He gets into the shower with a clear mind. Whatever happens, I have her for right now.

You paid for the pizza and carried it inside, kicking the door shut as you balanced it along with the sides and sauces all in your arms. Joel had gotten out of his shower a few minutes ago, and was probably getting dried off and changed, so it was perfect timing that you had everything set out on the countertop when he came trotting down the stairs.

“Hey, I got you some wings,” you told him, pointing to the box labeled ‘hot buffalo’ across from where you sat on the barstool. You’d been dipping a breadstick in marinara when he walked around you, kissing the side of your head before sitting down beside you.

“Thank you,” he spoke gratefully, his hands already reaching for the box, moving the pizza to the side for a moment. You knew what he liked, a testament of the time you’d known him for. “So what’ve you been up to? Now that you’ve had a break from work?”

“I wouldn’t call what I do actual work,” you snorted, but paused and tilted your head, recalling the day’s events. “I cleaned up ‘round the house, went to get some groceries for my dad, came home n’ watched some tv n’ had half a bowl of cereal.”

“Sounds eventful,” he mocked, and you gave him a nudge with your elbow. He chuckled, taking a bite of a chicken wing.

“Haven’t really had anything else to do,” you shrugged, grabbing a pizza slice and dragging it out of the box, carefully pulling the cheese so it didn’t flop all over the counter top. “Not that I’m complainin’, though. Rather have time on my hands than be too busy.”

He understood that. It seemed like all he ever did was work nowadays. It was the same cycle, over and again. Wake up at six in the morning, eat breakfast with Sarah, drop her off at school, and get back to the grind. Framing, insulating, installing, furnishing, repeat. All day, every day. Come home late to dinner with Sarah and sometimes watch a movie before bed. It’s all he ever does, and though it’s consistent, and it’s familiar, he aches for the additional warmth you bring. It’s why he called you over that first night in the bar. He hadn’t expected to see you back, and moreover, he didn’t expect you to seem so grown up.

He swears up and down that if you hadn’t been there that night, practically taunting him during that line dance, that this would have never happened. You both would have gone on to live alongside one another, but separately, just as you always have.

The conversation continued, slowly, with no pressure of any answer from either side. It was easy, natural. Joel didn’t like talking when he didn’t have to, and although it was different around you, he still kept his words to a few.

Once the pizza was eaten, the trash was discarded, and you’d move to the sink to get some of the grease off your hands.

“Y’know, we’re gonna be startin’ on interior installations soon, you might be able to come back and work on some stuff with me, if you still want to.”

You were excited at the thought of his words. Getting to watch Joel Miller lift heavy things like countertops and cabinets? And all the while, getting to watch from a now insulated house? That was even better.

“Well, I’ll obviously have to check my schedule. You know how busy I can be,” you joked, drying your hands on a paper towel from beside the sink. You turned around to throw it away but got caught between Joel and the counter, his arms coming down on either side.

“You tease me far too much, y’know that?” He lowered his head to meet your eyeline and you took a sharp intake of breath.

“Only because it’s far too much fun.”

He shook his head, getting close enough to close the gap and kiss you. First just short and sweet, then after a second glance, faster, and more motivated. Your hands found a place on his cheeks right away, holding him close to you while he kissed you deeper, his tongue finding its way between your lips. His hands went from beside you to under your thighs, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and setting you down onto the edge of the counter by the sink. With your legs open, you pulled him into your body, not even realizing how roughly you’d done so.

“Damn baby, you’re gettin’ real strong,” he chuckled, burying his face into your neck to kiss and suck marks there. Consequences and aftermath be damned, he wouldn’t stop.

“Must be from all the heavy liftin’ last week… pickin’ up your slack.”

He bit down harsher into your skin, and you moaned out a noise akin to pain and pleasure.

“Keep talkin’ baby, I’ll show you real slack.”

“Only gonna make me stronger,” you whispered against the side of his head, a smirk resting on your face, even in the position you were sitting. He had all the power, but you still had your little quips.

His hands at the bottom of your sweatshirt were hesitant. He talked confidently, without pause or conviction, but the truth of the matter would always remain that he was going to be hesitant with you. You’re the forbidden fruit, the thing he wasn’t supposed to touch, and yet… here he stands, his hands under your hoodie and lips thoroughly attached to the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck it,” he let out, dragging the hem of your clothing upwards until you raised your arms for it to come off. Where it landed, you’d have no idea. You just know that in this moment, with his hands on your bare skin, you couldn’t care less if you ever saw it again.

You’d not really paid mind to what you wore underneath it, an old red and gray tie-dye sports bra now the only thing to adorn the top of your body. He didn’t care in the slightest, far too happy to even see you in that.

He quickly moved you from the counter into his arms, journeying through the kitchen and again to the living room, just like last time… except instead of sitting down, letting you remain on his lap, he laid you back into the cushioned area, crawling over you to hover back where he had been before.

You didn’t think it was fair to let him take off clothing while remaining fully clothed.

“My turn,” you pushed him back, ripping at his t-shirt to try and rid him of it. It was a fresh shirt, probably just came out of the dryer last night, but you tossed it to the ground without a second thought.

You don’t recall seeing Joel shirtless. You remember that one time at the water park after graduation, when he wore a pair of trucks, and a sun shirt. Whether it was because he was afraid of getting sunburned, or because he was self conscious, you would never know. From what you could see, you couldn’t possibly imagine it being the latter. He wasn’t ripped, or even overly toned for that matter. He had a sculpted softness about him that was completely beautiful. He doesn’t work out, but he definitely works. His arms are full and muscular from the heavy lifting, and his shoulders are naturally broad, defined by the bulk he’s put on over the years.

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a body like his. The boys that have pursued you at college have always been either overly scrawny, or beef cakes. They want to be the hottest thing around. Want to be desired by every girl that walks past them, just so they can feed their ego and feel better about themselves ten years from now. Joel isn’t like that. He’s got a cocky attitude about himself, but it’s more in his teasing and snarky demeanor towards you than anything else. He’s sarcastic, and cynical, but he’s not doing it for show.

He’s old enough to realize he doesn’t have to impress anyone, because the right person will want him regardless, and you do.

You want him because he’s Joel Miller, not some body builder, or football player, or gym rat that stalks the hallways of your dorms.

You want him for his strong arms, tan lines right where his shirts normally end. You want him for his wide shoulders, even with the little scratches from bumping into wooden framing all day. You want him for the patchy beard on his face, knowing he only keeps it because he’s far too busy, and nearly always too tired to keep up with the clean shaven look. You want him for his dark curls, graying more every day and turning the color silver when he stands in the sun. You want him for his big hands, with the calluses and rough palms, but with the softest and most gentle fingertips you’ve ever felt on your face. You want him for the softness of his stomach, though seen as a flaw by most of society, you’d much prefer it to the discomfort of a stomach toned with abs. You want him for every bit of himself. You want him because he’s perfect.

He stripped your shorts and underwear from you at once, and it amazed you how adeptly he did it. He’s been doing this for years, he knows what he’s doing, stupid.

“You alright?” He looked back at you, his eyes glazed over completely. The darkness that was there was the same lustfull darkness you’d seen before, and you anticipated what may come from it.

“Yeah,” you smiled, watching him sink backwards and down your body. He parted your legs in a swift motion, unwilling to slow himself down on account of being so close to what he wants. “You don’t have to-”

“Shh, baby,” he pulled your hips upward and towards his face, admiring the slickness already resting between your legs before he lowered his mouth to taste it. It was so addicting, the smell of you, and he knew the second his tongue ran a long stripe up and down, he would be craving you constantly. Always on the verge of wanting you from now on.

The noises you made, lordy, he didn’t know someone could sound like that. The very fact that you were unashamed to hide it from him, too. He loves it, how vocal you are, and how much you want him to know how he makes you feel.

He held one finger to your entrance, coating it in your slick before plunging it deep inside of you, the curl of his knuckle making you writhe under him. He added another finger to see if you could take it. You were so tight already, and he knew that if you weren’t stretched out enough he would hurt you.

Two fingers wasn’t necessarily painful, but it caused a bit of discomfort at first. You didn’t expect that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but you tried to relax anyway. You wanted him so badly, wanted him entirely, and didn’t want this to put a damper on anything.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Just like that,” he praised, trying to help you open up more with the added pressure of his thumb on your clit. The gentle circles helped you to feel less of a stretch, and the pleasure was building. You wove your hands into his hair, trying to feel a tether of reality somewhere. He kept on, and went faster, and you felt yourself at a breaking point.

With his name on your lips, you broke apart, releasing all the tension left in your body to allow that euphoric rush to consume you. It caused your body to tremble under his, but you paid no mind to it. Once he retrieved his fingers from you, he held them up to his mouth, licking the sweetness from them that you so generously bestowed upon him.

You tried to sit up, to reach for his belt buckle, but he stopped you.

“Not tonight, baby,” he grabbed your hands and kissed them, the slightest bit of residue remaining on his lips.

“But I want to.”

“I know you do,” he smiled, brushing your hair aside to kiss you now, instead. “I just don’t wanna hurt you. Let’s work towards it, okay?”

You nodded, a bit embarrassed that you weren’t quite experienced enough to continue yet. Not to say you were inexperienced, but you definitely weren’t ready to take him yet, and he knew that for sure. The last thing he’d want to do is go too far and make it unpleasant for you.

He’s a good man, with good intentions. Even if this relationship - whatever you want to call it - is forbidden, he’s still trying to do right by you. It’s unspoken, but you’re his girl now, and he would never hurt his girl.

tags: @justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin @theatrelove3000

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller age gap #dbf! joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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mio-actuallywrites · 6 months

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The World You Once Loved 3

3/?

There is always two sides of the story is it not?

PREVIOUS NEXT

//May be a bit OOC and probably a little lazy

I’m feeding y’all with over 1,000 words… by the way not proofread!

Started to slack off on the end might go back and edit tomorrow!

Grim found it werid how one side of the bed felt empty when he woke up. He even felt wrong when he looked around. Ramshackle looked emptier then ever, most of the stuff that you had bought or got from traveling or just plain and regular stuff was missing.

That was until, he had found out the reason why, yes he did feel you shake him in the middle of the night but he just thought it was normal, you probably just really wanted to bother him about “Mickey” or something else. Until he eventually found and read the letter.

“HENCHMAN!!!!!” Was the only thing that could be heard from Ramshackle. Before he quickly stormed off to go see headmaster.

“As you see, I was very kind and generous and found a way home for them. Me being so kind had sent them home last night.” Was the only thing Crowley had said to Grim.

“MY HENCHMAN WOULD REALLY LEAVE ME?!”

“Well they had to. My kindness reached so far that they of course had to accept it.”

“You… Headmaster couldn’t even let me see them before they left?!?!”

Adter that conversation no one had seen of you or Grim for the next few days. They thought it was off. But a certain group of first years became concerned and tried to enter (force) their way into Ramshackle, and truly see what was wrong.

After entering (breaking down) the door and a bunch of shouts of Grim! Or Prefect! And probably breaking a of many items (that were left) to find you. Eventually they stood infront of your room. The last room that they hadn’t checked yet.

“GRIM ARE YOU OKAY?!” Sebek yelled as he saw Grim their with tears down his face, or should I say fur.

“Prefect… left me!!!!” Was all he could muster a reply for as he began to sob again.

“Eh, what do you mean prefect left you? It must be a joke wasn’t it?” Ace responded ending it with a laugh.

Suddenly however, Grim shoved them the note that you left as the read it outloud. The more words they said, the more there eyes widened.

“Yer must be jokin’ right?” (I butchered Epels accent lmao)

Soon after Epel said that, all the first years came together and probably cried. Even Jacks motivational speeches couldn’t even heal those wounds.

Eventually, after they left the word quickly spread. From Heartsybul to Pomeifore, Scarabia, Hell even Ignihyde eventually came to term that you left.

Crowley being the (worst excuse of a ) headmaster recived the news and complaints of multiple students of not saying goodbye, he eventually called them all down to talk to them.

“As we all know, prefect came from another world suddenly at the beginning of the year. And I ever so kind decided to bring them in and help them figure out a home. A week ago I had finally figured it out a way home for them. After telling them, they immediately accepted and went home. Simple as that.” And by then, Crowley finished his speech of how he returned you home.

Yes, although you had broken a few of the many rules of the Queen of Hearts. Riddle will always remember you, perhaps it’s due to your mischievous nature, or how you helped him during his Overblot. He would never know.

As the horrible headmaster gave his speech, Trey thought of all those times you baked with him. And the time of making that chestnut(?) tart with Adeuce so he could be forgiven. However on the other side of him, Cater was mainly thinking about showing you how to use the phones or whatever they had at TWST. And especially how to use Magicam, and even showed you how to make a account!

Although you stepped on his tail the first time you met, Leona was still surprised about your smartness about finding the weak spot of Azuls Unique magic, but he was still happy he got to turn his own contract to sand.

Ruggie enjoyed your hustle and really enjoyed you hanging out and getting money with him.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd cried once Crowley finished his speech. “Why did you have to leave?!” Jade sighed, him and both Floyd agreed for once, that you were fun to be around. Especially during the time you were trying to get the photo from the Atlántica Museum.

Kalim was already full on sobbing due to you being missing. But you returning to your original world?! That was his breaking point. He didn’t even get to throw you a party…

However, Jamil, wasn’t crying with Kalim, he could agree with him for once. Yes he doesn’t really or maybe regrets what he did to you during Book 4, he did enjoy your company at times when you did bother talking to him, that is if you even liked him during what happened.

“You Potato…” was the only thing Vil could get out of his mouth. Although you started talking much later then the others, forced to go through STYXS headquarters together, you guys truly bonded.

“Ah, the Trickster finally found a way home…” Rook's voice rang. (I literally cannot figure what else to add to his, I’m sorry Rook lovers!)

“Ofc an Otaku and boring person like me would be so leaveable..” Idia mumbled…

“Big bro I’m sure they didn’t leave you! They probably just wanted to go back to their own world!” Ortho responded. Trying to comfort his brother.

The one time Malleus got invited somewhere, he truly did not want to go. You were the only one who truly wasn’t afraid of him.

(Rest of Diasomnia left out due to some people not wanting book 7 spoilers/ it’s not finished.)

However who had it worst was with the first years.

Ace and Deuce who usually looked tough, even looked like they were able to burst out in tears.

While Epel was just standing there. Still kinda surprised you actually left with no warning. Standing next to him, Jack was there also. Yes he was happy you finally found a way home. But he truly thought you just didn’t want to go to school those days.

Meanwhile Sebek ran to malleus making sure his Liege was alright. (And to probably no show the others how sad it probably looked.)

“Henchman…” Grim probably still had teary eyes as he mumbled your name once again… not knowing what to do next.

However, he eventually did. Instead of spending the summer with you like you both planned to, he instead switched between homes, between the 1st or now 2nd years. He got to spend time and learn about the Queendom of Roses, The Shaftlands, and somehow Briar Valley.

However summed quickly came to an end. Yes he did think about you everyday, but he had to get over it one day, Right?

When they eventually came back to school, he did still stay in Ramschake, but was often found in other dorms. Still causing the usual ruckus, but this year, without the other 3rd, I mean 4th years. It wasn’t as nostalgic, yes Riddle would often shout “Off With Your Heads!” At them. However, Sebek would still talk about Malleus, but still it did not feel the same, he would always think about you.

They would never mention you, like once on a full moon. It was like you never existed, probably due to how sad they would get whenever Grim used to mention your name on “they would like that,” or “that reminds me of them.” After a few times though, he probably never mentioned you due to their facial expressions.

One day, near the first exams of the semester, him and the 2nd years were all messing around the mirror. Somehow Ace had an idea.

“So like what if we say Prefects location to the mirror?”

“Why’d yer say that?” Epel responded.

“I don’t know I just want to see what happens.” Ace replied with his usual grin.

However before anyone could respond, Ace just started saying where you told them where you lived/ what city you lived in.

And then suddenly, he felt like he was falling down.

“MWA WHAT HAPPENED?” Grim suddenly felt concrete under him and looked around.

“Uhh, where are we?” Jack looked around, noticing a sign in whatever language twisted wonderland had that read: “Tokoyo, Japan.” Around that were very tall buildings and it looked like it was nighttime.

“Hey isn’t this where Prefect lives?”

“I SHOULD HAVE STAYED SO I COULD PROTECT WAKA-SAMA!”

“Sebek quiet down, we don’t even know what happened to us…” Deuce mumbled. “Maybe because it was someone’s fault…”

“What if we use our magic and figure out where Prefect lives?? Didn’t we learn that in Magic class?” Jack suggested, pulling out his magic pen (or whatever it’s called) and getting ready to use it.

“But Malleus Sama!”

After getting your location, they had started making their way their way to your house, or what they believed it to be.

(Time skip because I wanna get this out early.)

After figuring out your house, they all decided to knock, however they hid Grim in a bag they found, knowing that your world probably doesn’t have magical cats or monsters that talk.

Suddenly a young adult opened the door and she widened her eyes.

“I’m who are you? Also why are you all here with a furry?”

“A furry what the hell is..? Uhh we are friends of Prefect do they live here?”

“They… do? What business do you have with them.”

“We really need to talk to them! And then get back to my liege!” Sebek practically screamed,

“Dude you really have to chill…” Ace mumbled…

After a bit of chatting and confirming if they did truly know you, she did eventually somehow gave in and welcomed them.

“I guess they really do meet werid people, but since you really need to know them I guess I’ll let you in? There not home though, still working. Oh by the way, I’m Oboko.” Oboko mumbled as she opened the door more and stepped out of the way. Weird, a bunch of grown ass boys knowing Yuu? What the hell do they do?”

As suddenly as they entered they raided the kitchen, much to Obokos dismay they made themselves at home. With Oboko watching closely, making sure nothing would happen.

Soon though, the front door opened and they heard a familiar voice.

@twistedcece @nothingfuninthislife

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shadowbriar · 1 year

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Fred Weasley - Pick Up Where We Left Off

Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.5k Warning : None. Let me know if I missed anything Synopsis : One last Christmas with the Weasleys, would she find her closure from his sudden withdrawal years ago? Notes : I’m trying to pull myself out of writing slump. Hope this is good enough of a comeback-ish post. Not proofread, I might edit this later. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Perhaps she’s read one too many romantic novels that it’s started to blur the line of reality in her life. Perhaps Hermione has told her too many tales of happy endings that it’s started to dilute her idea of realism. Perhaps she’s taken Divination class too seriously that it’s started to make her believe that the Universe holds a better, sweeter, and dreamier ending for her and him.

It was no question for her on whose palms her heart belongs. Long before Snape taught her class about Amortentia, long before Trelawney taught her about crystal-gazing, she already knew whose magnetic force her world would revolve around. One look of him after being sorted to her house and it felt like the thin haze of uncertainty in her life was lifted. She might only be a child then, but she knew that this wouldn’t be something she could walk past from.

For the first few years of her school life, everything seemed to be falling to its place. It wasn’t hard for her to grow close with him, like how bees are naturally attracted to flowers, in no time he was always just an arm’s length from her. He was always around. Always had his hands on top of her head as they walked on the corridors, always saved her a seat in the Great Hall for every meal, and would always find her first to share the mischief he’s accomplished during the day.

Yet some day in their Third year, something changed. Like someone had just pulled the rug she was standing on, snapping her to the reality that things are simply too good to be true. She has misunderstood his affection and tender gestures. Fred Gideon Weasley has never held any romantic feelings for her.

She bites her lip as the memories of their once fond friendship slowly evaporates to thin air. He slowly distant himself, for whatever reason she still couldn’t decipher. His bright beaming smile turns into a tight line before eventually gone entirely from his handsome face. His fingers no longer play with her hair and the space between them during meals seem to grow further each day until he’s found himself eventually sitting on a different spot.

“Will you come and spend Christmas with us?” Ginny asks, linking her arms as they walk to the train “It’s been a while since we see you on breaks.”

She smiles, shaking her head lightly, “Not this time, Gin.”

“Is Fred still being an arse?” The younger continues with her questions “It’s been years, surely he’s warmed up to you.”

“He sure has.” She lied, giving the red head a squeeze on the arm “We’re just not as close anymore and I think it would be awkward for us all if I were to pop out of nowhere at your family dinner.”

“Nonsense! Everyone would be delighted to see you, I can guarantee that.”

She shows an apologetic smile, still not giving in.

“It’s been years,” Ginny continues to plead “You’re graduating soon and Merlin knows when else we could spend Christmas together. You know, Charlie’s back from Romania and it wouldn’t be complete still without you there.”

“I don’t know, Gin.”

“Please? I’ll hex and petrify Fred in his room if he’s making you uncomfortable.”

She chuckles a little before letting out a sigh, “Alright.”

—-

She tidies her skirt in nervousness, standing in front of the Burrow’s door as she wonders if coming here was a mistake. One last Christmas, she thought. One last Christmas before she could move on from the long attaching chapter in her life that is Fred Weasley. One last Christmas with the Weasley before she shuts the memory away. One last Christmas to say goodbye.

With a long inhale, she hesitantly knocks on the wooden door. Her grip on her purse tightened as the person who greets her first was the one she least wished to see. He looks just as surprised to see her, a light hint of rose tainting his cheeks. Perhaps from the cold breeze of air.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” She greets back “Your family invited me for dinner.”

He blinks, seemingly at a loss of words, “Right, of course.”

“Sunshine!’ A voice called behind him, revealing Bill who’s now coming to her with large steps “Oh, it’s been decades since I last saw you!”

She giggles as he pulls her for a hug, lifting her slightly, “Hello, Bill.”

“Oh, Merlin.” He says, staring at her beamingly as he puts her down “Look at you now! You’ve grown! You’re a lady now.”

“Still far shorter than you, though.”

“Nah, your height is the perfect one. It’s cute.”

Fred clears his throat, “I think you should let a woman come inside first before flirting with her, Bill.”

“Of course!” Bill says, pulling her by the shoulder and leading her in “Come on, there’s so many things we should talk about. How’s life, Darling?”

The warm happy smile is still plastered on her face, feeling genuinely happy as Bill starts to share the bits of his life that she’s missed about. He’s always been the welcoming big brother for her, always there to embrace her with such warmth and love she would never find elsewhere. Yet with all the joy and delight of hearing Bill’s pleasant stories, she couldn’t help but to notice the annoyed scoff and the louder slam of the door as they entered the house.

Perhaps her presence really is a bother for him.

—-

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She curses with a sigh, placing her hands to hips.

To say dinner went pleasantly would be such an understatement. Everyone welcomed her as if she was the missing jigsaw the family has been missing for years. Bill was always by her side, Charlie sharing all of his adventurous tales from Romania, and Percy who blabbered about his new position at the ministry. The shared night felt like it went by too quickly that Mrs. Weasley persisted for her to stay the night, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Perhaps it was the blissful warmth the house has always been filled in and the waves of emotions she hasn’t felt for years that made her struggle to drift off to sleep now. That or the fact that Fred was the only silent party on the table. He was the only one who didn’t try to engage in a conversation with her, yet she could feel his eyes boring into her like a tiger prying on their prey. The not so subtle, dare she say, jealousy he shows when Bill rests his arm around her shoulder, or when Charlie played with her hair, or when Percy give her a slice of their mother’s cookings, or when George made her laugh so hard she cried, or when Ron hugged her as he opens her present, or even when Ginny stole her to gossip about her little crush on Harry at the sitting room. All the little mundane things they used to do, she couldn’t help but to wish that Fred would miss it too.

But he’s made no effort to come to her, not even a step closer. He kept his distance, a tight forced smile decorating his face whenever their eyes met. It was as if her presence was torturing him.

“Need a hand?”

“Oh, Godric!” She yelps, turning to see the angel of her nightmares standing by the stairs “I couldn’t find where the sugar’s placed.”

He nods, not saying a word as he opens the overhead cabinet and puts the sugar to the table.

“Thanks.” She muttered with a small smile “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No,” He says short, now leaning to the basin “I couldn’t sleep.”

She nods.

The sound of her stirring her cup of tea is now the only thing breaking the silence between them. She could feel him staring, with his hands folded in front of his chest as if he was studying her. She dares not to look up. Merlin knows just how much of a shamble she would find herself in to lock their gazes. Even after all these years of separation, she knew that he’s still the one magnetism her heart belongs to.

But minutes passed and he still hasn’t spoken a word. Her tea was getting cold, untouched for she fears the slightest change of action would make him leave. Though the tension was ripping her apart, she would gladly be stuck in this situation forever if it meant she could keep him around.

“How have you been?”

She looks up, finally gathering enough courage to see him, “You mean lately or the past few years we’ve been apart?”

“Both,” He says with a slight frown “I suppose.”

“I’m doing alright. You?”

“Could’ve been better.”

“Lately or the past few years?”

He smiles, repeating his words, “Both, I suppose.”

She looks down to her tea. This would be the very time for her to find her closure, find the answers as to why he would leave her so abruptly with no warning. Yet now that the universe has aligned them their moment, why is she now feeling scared? Why does it feel like laying on the bed of uncertainty, the one thing she’s found comfort with over the years of his absence, feels like a better course of life than to have her heart broken for whatever reason he might have?

“I know that I owe you an explanation,” He says as if he could read her mind “But I fear that it would only make you hate me.”

“What makes you think that I don’t already hate you?”

He smiles painfully, “Silly of me think that you haven’t.”

“Say we live in a world where I could never hate you,” She whispered, fingers tapping on her tea cup “Would you give me the answer?”

“In that world, yes.”

She looks up, pleading for him to continue in silence.

“In that world I would tell you everything.” He continues “I would tell you everything, give you everything. Hell, I wouldn’t even leave in the first place.”

“Say that is our world, this world. What answer would you give me?”

His gaze softens, guilt and regret seeping through them, “That I was just a boy. I was scared of what our friendship could lead us to.”

She remains quiet.

“We were so close.” He reminisced with a sad smile “There were times when I felt like I was closer to you than George, and he’s always been with me since I first took my breath in this world, yet somehow you overthrone him and it scares me.”

She nods, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not something you should feel sorry for, Love.” He chuckles bitterly “I was afraid you would somehow, in my most narcissistic mind, fall for me. I know that there would be no chance in the seven hells for that to happen, a girl like you falling for a boy like me, hell that would’ve been the most dubious wish I could hope for.”

She frowns, not following where his confession is going to.

“But I was scared that that would happen. I was scared that our friendship would grow into something more and I could never forgive myself if you were to fall for me when I haven’t sorted my feelings out.”

“I see,” She speaks, taking gulps to try and suppress the growing lump on her throat “And have you sorted your feelings now?”

“I have,” He nods, a sad smile still plastered on his face “I have for years but it was too late already.”

“Too late for what?”

“To make you mine.”

Her head now spins. She felt like her ears had lied to her, that her mind had somehow misunderstood his words, for there could be no chance in every lifetime that he would ever reciprocate her feelings. Never.

“I’m sorry that I ruined everything.” Fred says with a shaky voice as if he was trying to bottle his emotions “I’m sorry that I left you, I’m sorry for realising my feelings too late, I’m sorry for making you hate me, and I’m so fucking sorry for being jealous at everyone who gets to spend their time with you because no matter how many times I tried, I can’t stop loving you.”

And there it is. The confirmation that she wasn’t just making the words in her head. That he indeed, is confessing his heart for her.

She places her hands to her forehead, trying to stop the dizziness she’s feeling right now. Everything Fred said was all she’s been praying for but now that she’s heard it, she wasn’t sure what to say. That, and the fact that she still needs to comprehend that this wasn’t just a lovely dream her mind’s playing.

“Please say something.” Fred begs.

“Merlin, I hate you so much.” She sighs, now looking up to meet his saddened eyes “If I had my wand with me right now, you would’ve find yourself in a casket already, Fred Weasley.”

He smiles, “That doesn’t sound like a very bad way to go.”

“Oh, it is.” She nods, scoffing “Because then you wouldn’t know that I’ve been loving you too.”

His smile dropped, blinking as he heard her.

“Now you can hate yourself even more.” She says sarcastically.

“You’re-” He stammers, now standing up rigidly “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m as serious as you are.” She answers, standing from her seat too “So tell me, Fred, am I being serious?”

Fred was at a loss of words. He stares at her with a conflicted look, like desire and restraint was fighting to take over his body. He hesitantly takes a step closer to her and when she doesn't flinch, he closes the gap between them, now standing in front of her with his hands resting on either of her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

She squints her eyes, confused, “What for?”

“For what I’m going to do.”

And with that he leans in, sealing their lips together in the most delicate way. The kiss was short but it was enough to fuel both of their aching hearts. They sigh as they break it off, eyes still closed for a few more seconds as they try to bath in each other’s presence. Something that they’ve longed so painfully long for.

“I love you.” Fred says, looking at her tenderly “I would do anything, and I mean by anything to fix us. We can start from the beginning, I could be a friend or anything you like. Just- Please give me a chance to fix this.”

“I don’t know, Fred.” She teases, faking a sad face “You’re cute, but Bill looks so hot now.”

His mouth was agape, gasping at her taunt, “And here I thought you were a loyal friend. Siblings are off limits, you know it!”

She smiles, kissing the palm of his hand.

“Please?” He asked again, whispering his plea “You won’t regret it.”

“Okay,” She nods, cheeks red from the bliss “But only if you promise you’ll kiss me at the podium when we graduate.”

“Yeah, about that,” Fred awkwardly chuckles, one hand now finds its way to the back of his neck “You’d still love me if I got expelled, right?”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley scenario #fred weasley scenarios #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x oc

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bitethedevil · 7 days

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The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Warning: Slight smut (just a tiny bit).

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems.

(AN: Chapter 2 of my not super edited Raphael x Tav. The first chapter is linked above. Raphael is being possessive and does an A+ job as appearing as the perfect gentleman)

A couple of the guests swarmed around Raphael when they had come back from the archive. Tav saw the opportunity to slip away. She sat herself down in a quiet corner of the room. A servant brought her a drink, which she happily accepted.

“There you areee!” Rolim beamed at her when he spotted her.

She smiled politely back at the handsome half-elf. It seemed that he might have had one drink too many, with the way that he swayed when he approached her.

“I was worried that you had gotten lost somewhere,” he said. “I almost ventured out to find you!”

“Just needed some air,” Tav said and sipped her drink. “I’m afraid that I’m not too good with this many new people at once. It can get a bit overwhelming. All the noise, and the…constant talking.”

“Oh, I know just what you mean…” Rolim said, completely missing the hint. He sat down beside her.

He crossed his legs and smiled brightly at her before starting to talk her ear off again, just as he had done while they were eating. She caught his gaze running up and down her form every now and again while they were talking. The alcohol had made him considerably less shy about his interest than earlier. Had he not been Raphael’s client, she might have flirted back. He might not be the most intelligent man she had ever met, but his overly cheerful demeanor and good looks were certainly attractive to her. Especially after a couple of drinks.

“Can I say something?” Rolim asked after they had been talking for a while.

Tav tried not to laugh at the request, because the man had been ‘saying something’ non-stop for about half an hour now.

“Sure,” she said.

“Do you promise that you won’t get offended, if I say the thing that I want to say?” he asked with an almost innocent expression.

“Well, what do you want to say?” she said with an amused smile.

He looked at her with a shy look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He took a sip of his drink. Then he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something again.

“I think you are very pretty,” he confessed. “And I am obviously not just saying that because of your reputation and all of that. You are very pretty.”

“Thank you, Rolim,” she said with a genuine smile and a slight blush. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“You are very welcome,” Rolim mumbled with a shy smile and took a sip of his drink.

They kept talking. She suddenly noticed Rolim’s eyes widen ever so slightly as he watched something behind her.

“Raphael,” Rolim greeted with a smile that was a bit more forced than the one he had been wearing with her all night.

She looked over her shoulder to see Raphael leisurely walking over to them.

“Rolim,” he greeted back smoothly as he sat down on the other side of Tav. Raphael placed his arm behind Tav on the backrest of the sofa. “Your business is still flourishing, I presume?”

“Yes, yes…” Rolim answered, with a tinge of nervousness in his voice. “Wonderfully, actually. Thanks to you, of course.”

“How wonderful to hear,” Raphael said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“I was actually thinking of expanding the business to other cities soon,” Rolim said slowly regaining his cheerful tone. “Tav and I actually talked about Baldur’s Gate as an option just earlier tonight.”

“Oh, did you now?” Raphael said and looked at her while he moved his arm away from the backrest, so it fully held around her shoulders. He caressed her shoulder gently with his thumb, as he looked back at Rolim with a cruel smile.

“In my humble opinion, I think it would be wiser if you considered somewhere a little closer to home. It is tempting to become impulsive and arrogant when you have tasted success once but be careful that you are not biting over more than you can chew, my friend...There is something to be said for backing off while the going is good and to be grateful for what one still has…”

Tav’s eyes widened at Raphael’s possessive touch and the darker hidden meaning under his words, but she did not make a move to stop it. If anything, his possessiveness did things to her that she would never admit to anyone. It was a blatant threat, that even someone like Rolim could understand.

“Quite right…” Rolim muttered quietly as he went slightly pale. “I’m…going to go get a drink.”

Rolim gave the both of them a forced polite smile and left them. Tav looked at Raphael who was still sitting all too close to her with his arm around her. He smiled at her.

“That wasn’t very nice…” she said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Raphael asked with mock innocence.

“You know what I mean,” she said and glanced to the hand that was still on her shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Don’t tell me that you were enjoying the attentions of that drooling whelp?” Raphael said with a huff. “He may be pretty, but he is possibly the least intelligent client I’ve dealt with in this century.”

“Why did you invite him then?” she asked.

“I find his foolishness somewhat endearing,” he answered with a shrug. “Besides, he did grant me a rather easy and highly profitable deal.”

“Ah, right,” she said and nodded. “And that’s all we ‘mortals’ are good for, isn’t it? To line your pockets with souls and gods know what else.”

“Some of you, yes,” Raphael said with an amused expression. “But that’s not how I view our relationship, of course.”

“Of course not,” Tav agreed sarcastically. “Because I’m your ‘favorite’, right? I’m sure we would still have been the best of friends even if I hadn’t dropped a very powerful artifact into your lap.”

“But you did,” Raphael countered. “For which I am endlessly grateful. And you are still my favorite.”

Tav noticed that Raphael was watching something across the room. Her eyes followed his gaze and saw Rolim quickly avert his eyes away from them.

“He quite taken with you,” Raphael noted with a hint of a sneer. “No doubt he has been filling your ears with his endless boasting all evening.”

“I don’t know if I would even call it that,” she said. “He just seemed happy about the way his life was going. It wasn’t even done in any arrogant way. Not intentionally at least.”

“That is because he was trying to entice you,” Raphael said. “I can promise you that he is a bumbling idiot when he is not trying to impress a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

“Beautiful, am I?” Tav teased. The drinks were getting to her.

“Very,” Raphael purred with a smirk.

“Well,” she said with a shrug. “I thought he seemed nice at least.”

Raphael hummed and brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.

“We did establish earlier that you do have a rather annoying tendency to choose people who don’t deserve you,” Raphael said and gave her a look that could only be interpreted as flirtatious.

She swallowed hard and her heart sped up slightly. Her sense of self-preservation that would have told her that this seemed dangerous, was quieted by the alcohol.

“And who do you think deserves me then?” she asked boldly.

“A very good question, indeed. One that I will have to think about…” he mused dramatically. “Although, it is so very difficult to think in here with all the noise. Perhaps if we went somewhere quieter…”

Raphael got up and Tav followed, even though she could hear the faint alarm-bells ringing in the back of her mind.

Raphael snapped his fingers before opening the door to the balcony for her.

Tav’s jaw dropped. It was dark when she stepped out on the balcony. A thousand stars brightened up the sky over the hellish landscape. The sight was bizarre but also stunningly beautiful.

“But…” she said with a look of awe on her face. “That…that doesn’t make sense…? It’s never dark in Avernus, is it?”

“It’s an illusion, my dear,” Raphael said and leaned on the railing beside her. “You are quite right. It never is dark in Avernus. Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful…” she said, her mouth still agape. “Why did you…?”

“For you,” Raphael said. “I understand that the lack of night and day must be quite disorienting when you are not used to it.”

While she was still staring at the sky, she felt arms snaking around her waist from behind her. Her breath hitched.

“There is also a certain sense of intimacy and excitement that can only be found in the darkness of night,” he purred in her ear. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He placed slow, gentle kisses on her shoulder, trailing up to her neck. Her breathing became even shallower. Her body and the alarm-bells in her head were in complete disagreement about they wanted to do.

“Raphael…” she murmured.

“Yes, my dear?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

She turned around to look up at him. His arms were still around her.

“You are up to something…” she said in a quiet voice.

Raphael brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Is it truly such an unbelievable concept that I simply find you desirable?” he asked, briefly glancing at her lips.

Tav could not help but glance at his lips as well. Alarm-bells be damned. She desired him too.

Raphael smirked as if he had read her mind and leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft and intimate. She could taste tobacco and wine on his lips. It was intoxicating. The whole thing was ridiculously romantic, and it had not been what Tav might have expected from a devil.

When they finally broke the kiss, she noticed that Raphael’s breathing had gotten a heavier as well. His brown eyes were dark with desire as he looked at her.

“I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous, but the hour is getting late, sweet mouse,” he said in a low voice. “Would you like to stay here for the night?”

She could only nod. Raphael smiled and kissed her again. This time more passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His grip around her waist tightened, as his tongue started exploring her mouth.

She could feel his hardness pressing up against her abdomen. She let one hand slide down his chest and towards his pants. Raphael knew what she was doing immediately. He bit her lip playfully but firmly and caught her exploring hand with his own.

“Patience, my dear,” he purred against her lips with a smirk.

Tav got the hint: he was in control. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck again, as he continued to kiss her. His hands roamed her body, though never in any sexual manner, despite the passion in his kiss. He was being a gentleman with her.

When he released the kiss, he placed brief and gentle kisses on both her cheeks and then one on her forehead before resting his head against hers. A gesture so sweet that it made Tav melt completely.

“I knew you were special from the moment we met, you know,” Raphael said, while brushing his fingers gently through her hair. “Such a brave and confident little thing…until you discovered my true nature, of course. However, you still recovered rather quickly, much to my frustration at the time.”

“Well, you weren’t the first devil we had encountered that week,” Tav said with a smile. “You were, however, the first to invite us to your house and offer us supper.”

“Mm,” Raphael hummed and placed a kiss on her neck. “So, I was not your first devil. Would you however say that I am your favorite?”

He placed another kiss further up on her neck.

“To be fair, the bar is on the floor…” she teased, her voice had gotten breathy again at his kisses.

He bit her earlobe.

“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed,” he whispered in her ear, and tightened his grip around her waist. “We might have to work on those manners of yours.”

His endless teasing was getting to her. Especially when she could feel just how hard he was through the fabric of their clothes. It was killing her.

She was getting impatient, so this time she took the initiative. She leaned up to kiss him. When he returned the kiss, it was slightly hungrier than before. She bit his lip and pressed her hips against his, which earned her a grunt from him. When they broke the kiss, he looked down at her with blazing desire in his eyes. He seemed done with the waiting as well and lead her inside with an arm around her waist.

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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vinff7 · 2 months

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This update got me looking at and editing some of my Head canons, so posting those here. HC for how Gortash started worshiping Bane. And other ‘young Gortash’ HC

The game gives us very little hints about how and when Gortash started worshiping Bane. (Except for that one draft of a biography that seemed to place it in his adulthood, but doesn’t mention Hell? I think that might have just been when his Bane worship got more pronounced and noticed by that author not when it really started)

So I’ve made my own headcanon as I’ve seen multiple different versions around.

For me I think he started worshiping Bane in the House of Hope. Not right off the bat. I HC that Gortash likely was enslaved down there around the age of 10. Obviously a very difficult transition for a child to start living in Hell. But I think he eventually got to a point where he was aloud to wander somewhat and read in the library to educate himself. But was also taught by the Walock that brought him there to start (In-between him getting tortured and abused because I love whump to much to not imagine that there were horendious things done to him)

During this time around age 11 I like to think that he caught the attention of an awful demon/devil that would take torturing him really far, citing how amusing it was to get Enver to cry.

I also like to HC that young Enver had really bad anxiety and fear around crying. Like when he was in baulders gate his parents would get furious and yell at him to shut up. So if he noticed he was getting close to crying he would panic, which would pretty much ensure he would cry. And it would be a fun awful spiral of self hate thoughts at himself to be quiet and stop crying making his crying worse.

Anyway, awful torture keeps happening to the kid in between him needing to work and learn. And then Enver’s warlock teacher misses his lesson, and the next one. So Enver is hiding out trying to avoid the houses inhabitants when he finally spots his Walrock teacher and approaches them. Tries to figure out when his next lesson would be. Only to get dismissed with a wave. His mentor tells him The devil that had taken an interest in him has a habit of killing and breaking prisoners and he out ranks the Warlock, so the Warlock is giving up teaching Enver since trying to argue that he should be left alone would be more trouble then it’s worth.

Outright tells an 11 year old “Yeah, maybe not today, but I bet by the time 6 months has passed he’ll have tortured you to death. So there’s not really a point in teaching you anything anymore. No matter what you or I do you’ll end up the like mindless tormented souls soon.“ seeing how terrified Enver looked he says “Best you can do is try convince a god to fish your soul out of here after that devil gets bored or reckless enough to torture you to death.”

Which uh, def fucks with Enver’s head. So he does start deep diving into the Gods and trying to figure out if he can find any he aligns with enough that they would take him. And during this search he finds books about Bane and I fee like Bane’s philosophies is something he would immediatly relate and cling too.

Bane started as a slave and became a God. Bane teaches that the world is truely an Evil place by default, and pretending it isn’t is a lie. Someone who has only seen the worst the worlds have to offer must feel so validated reading that. To me Bane teaches so much about Self Disciple and self Control that some of his books written by worshipers must go into methods of self control. I can see young Enver finding a book of Worship with mantras to repeat when feeling weak or when needing to focus and clinging to those like a life raft.

Repeating phrases like mantras over and over in real life can have mind altering properties. Add a religious one to a word with magic and maybe there is an added Boost that actually works for getting in the zone via worship.

I don’t think Bane answered or noticed Enver at first, at all. I don’t think this discouraged Enver at all, the mantras helped and he figured he needed to do more to earn his gods favor so he worked at it. The focus on his self control helped. He could endure toruture quietly more and some of his tormentors lost interest in the now more stoic boy. Learning to master himself became a thing he could control to keep himself sane in Hell through the torment.

Obviously things didn’t ever get kind in Hell. But I also imagine after a few years of contactless worship Bane does notice Enver since getting prayer pings from Hell is not the most common. I doubt he would often interveen. Enduring torture is good training for a Banite.

I do think the first time they speak is an intervension though. Gods are able to see the future when it comes to things under their portfolio and so I imagine he could see that Enver has a LOT of potential. But he notices that the potential vanishes if all is left with nothing changing which gets him to interveen.

In my head the violent devil that started all of this does decide he want’s to break Enver during a point where Raphael might have been out of the house. Bane notices looking into the future that the torture they have planned for Enver would shatter him, and while Bane approved of discipline, he knows the difference between being weak and being put through so much agony that it’s unreasonable to expect discipline to cary someone through.

So I imagine Enver getting dragged from his cell, trying to fight down panic and start praying as a devil taunts him about his up coming torutre then, vision starts getting very dark and far away as Bane reaches in and just puuuulls his soul away. Bane is able to posses his followers so in my mind he does that for Gortash and pulls him away for a private chat.

I imagine being possesed by Bane is a bit like The Sunken Place from Get out. There is a viewing window you can look out to see what you body is doing, and otherwise Bane sponsored darkness. I feel like they had a short chat, nothing huge for Bane but life altering for a kid, someone actually caring for him enough to help. I feel like Bane would make an agreement with Enver that he will make sure Enver will never have to go through anything so bad that he would not be able to overcome it, which is a huge boost of self confidence for Enver. Now anytime he’s getting tortured in the future he has the promise of ‘My God knows this won’t break me’ going off in the back of his mind.

Bane also tells Enver that he won’t step in to free Enver, Enver needs to free himself, but he will grant him power if needed so that Enver can rise up as long as Enver loyaly serves him.

And so that is how they meet and Enver becomes even more loyally tied to Bane in my HC! I also have a couple ideas I’ll toss here at the end about him escaping since I’m already rambling.

I like to think that once he was older Enver was able to escape by using the Helldusk boots since he has those in game. My though was somehow the boots magic was used almost like a magic key? So he stole those, wards noticed the boots and figured whoever had them must be aloud to be there else why would they have them, so they helped him get past some magic locks and escape.

I did see in a fic about Enver leaping through those portals that could cause insanity and just giving a ‘hey help me out’ prayer to Bane to help him survive which worked and I always liked that idea.

Last Gortash ~ Bane idea that I like is that once Gortash escaped from the House of Hope Bane gave him his approval and told him like “You’re a Watchful Brother in Bane’s church, now you’ll never be called a Slave again.” And got to skip that ‘rank’ in normal Baneite hierarchy.

#gortash #enver gortash #bg3 #bg3 gortash #headcanon #d&d bane #house of hope #rambles

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thedeathofduty · 1 year

Text

Motion Sickness

I hate you for what you did

And I miss you like a little kid

Summary: You went for a morning ride in the Kingswood, as you sometimes did when you were a young girl in King's Landing. Unfortunately, you'd barely enough time to enjoy your hard-earned solitude before Prince Aemond arrived and started trying to speak with you. Reluctantly, you agree to work with him to mend the bonds that were broken years ago.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!F!Reader

Word Count: 8,305 (I got a little carried away)

Warning(s): Mentions and very brief description of child abuse, detailed description of a fight between two kids (not the eye incident), vague references to sexual trauma (Aemond)

A/N: So in the canon, Aemond claims Vhagar and gets his eye cut out when he's 10 years old, but I decided to change things a bit here and make it so that it happened when he was about 12. I messed with the canon timeline a few times here and aged Aemond up (babygirl is ~22 here), but every other change is actually addressed in-text. Also, I'm not 100% sure what the technical difference is between and OC fic and a Reader fic, but I am definitely on that line here. If anyone has an actual answer to that conundrum for me, please DM me and explain it to me, I am desperate to understand. I've been editing this as I go, but there might still be a few issues, so just be forewarned.

Though it had been close to ten years since you had ridden your white mare down this twisted path in the Kingswood, you found that the memory of it was deeper than you thought. Despite the years, you still knew where to turn, where to slow down, and where to duck your head so a stray branch would miss your face. You'd been gifted Nymeria at the tender age of only twelve and, now as you were a young woman of twenty-two years of age, she was every bit an extension of you as the short nails just barely peeking past your fingertips and the golden braid bouncing off your back as you galloped through the forest.

The crisp morning air nipped at your flushed cheeks and your steady breaths came out of your mouth in thick clouds. You were grateful you had not left your riding gloves in your chambers or else you knew your fingers would be too stiff. As the trees around you thinned, you tugged on the reins and brought Nymeria to a slow walk. Soon enough, the two of you reached your destination: the apex of the little rivers that ran through the Kingswood. As a girl, you had loved this place, though you'd only laid eyes on it a mere handful of times. Back then, you had been too young to go out riding on your own as often as you did now.

You jumped down from Nymeria's saddle, your muddy riding boots crunching in the pebbles below. The soothing murmur of the water was a balm on your senses after the extravagant feast you'd been forced to attend the night before. With a deep breath, you led your horse to a nearby tree and hastily tied her there with the soft rope you'd grabbed from the stables in the Red Keep.

"Here you go, sweet girl," you crooned, petting her under her chin as she usually liked. After planting a kiss on her dark gray snout, you grabbed your book of poems from her saddlebags and wandered off to sit near the edge of the small river. It was shallow, barely a river at all, and perfectly clear. From your spot on the bank, you saw a few peach-colored fish swimming against the gentle current. Around you was the sound of a cool breeze stirring the tops of the trees, the rising chirping of morning larks, and a faint crunching off in the distance. It was far enough that you could ignore it for now.

You settled into your seat, balancing your book in your lap and humming contentedly as your face slowly warmed with the clear sunlight. With the cold still nibbling at you, the light did not feel golden so much as it did silver. Almost like moonlight. You wanted to truly soak in every moment you had left alone out here. After the unfortunate journey to King's Landing from Casterly Rock, then that overwhelming feast last night, you were desperate to have some time to collect yourself. It would inevitably be interrupted, though.

The crunching in the distance got closer and you could feel the pounding of hooves through the earth beneath you. You sighed, already pushing yourself up to stand as the sound behind you came to an awkward halt.

"Prince Aemond," you said, not even bothering to turn towards him as he struggled to get his horse to stop completely. He had always been a clumsy rider, at least when it came to horses. You hoped for the sake of the realm that he was better with his dragon. "It is both a pleasure and an honor to see you again." You refused to look at him until he had finally dismounted, considering it a great mercy on your part. As a child, he had fallen out of his saddle enough times that any attempts to help him would just infuriate him. Granted, he had been much smaller back then, bigger only than Princess Rhaenyra's second son.

When you did fix your gaze on him, it was without a warmer greet or even a smile, just your hands clasped together in front of you over your book and your chin held high. His riding boots were cleaner than yours and still held some shine, unlike yours, which had been dull and scuffed for some time now. Just as he had been the previous night, he was clad entirely in black. His thick overcoat had little splashes of mud along the bottom and the sight of it did admittedly cause your lips to curl a bit. He was fixing his eye patch, trying to adjust the strap over his windswept hair with one hand while the other held tight to the reins of his dark horse. Unlike you, he had forgotten his riding gloves.

"It did not seem to be either last night, Lady Y/N." His eye met yours and you snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.

He was referring, of course, to your refusal to dance with him. Given the farewell he had gifted you before you left King's Landing nine years ago, he should hardly have been surprised at your cold demeanor. It was, in truth, because of his harsh farewell that you and your family had been compelled to leave. After the way he had treated you, it was clear he no longer wanted you and so the royal family had no use for you and your ilk either. To say your father had been cross would be entirely inaccurate. No, he had been well and truly raging, swearing to the gods that you must have done something to displease the Prince.

You had, though you never shared it with him. Your mother, at least, had been kind to you in those early years, even as you pulled away from her. No matter how kind she was, though, or how close you sometimes felt to any of your sisters, you never told any of them the truth of it.

"I was weary from my travels and did not wish to be paraded around like a jester." It was not a complete lie. You probably would have danced with someone else, if a desirable hand had been offered to you. Prince Aemond's hand, however, was little more than an insult, a thick glob of spit in your left eye. "Come," you sighed, walking towards him and grabbing the reins from his hand. This close to him, you could feel how warm he must be under his layers of thick clothing. He was standing rigidly like a little wooden toy. "I will fasten your horse."

You redid your rope tie for Nymeria so it could hold both, smoothing another hand over your mare's soft face before putting your book away. Maybe you would have the opportunity to read later, but you doubted the Prince had lowered himself to come out here just to sit in silence with you. Though you were not eager to, you would listen to him. He was more than just your childhood companion now. He was the King's younger brother and possible heir to the throne.

"There are matters," Prince Aemond paused, rubbing his hands together before balling them into stiff fists at his sides, "matters we must discuss." He was having a hard time meeting your eyes, only being able to meet your gaze for a brief moment before looking away again.

"And what matters are those, Prince Aemond?"

"The manner of your return to King's Landing."

"Well, I came mostly on horseback, but whenever I grew tired, I rode in the carriage with my mother and sister." You offered him a cheeky smile as he sighed wearily and rolled his eyes.

"Gods, you are still just an intolerable as you were when we were children."

Intolerable? And yet he had spent nearly all of his time with you as a boy? Oh yes, that sounded quite reasonable. You crossed your arms over your chest, forearms digging into the golden lion's head clasps in your crimson riding coat. "Perhaps you would find me more tolerable if I was simply able to divine your motives for questioning me. Alas, I cannot."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before speaking. "It has been many years since we have last seen each other. I am simply trying to get reacquainted."

On your last day in King's Landing, you had woken up before the sun and scrawled out a simple note asking him to meet you in the courtyard when he awoke if he wished to speak. With a thundering heart, you had given the folded paper to Ser Criston who stood guarding the door to Prince Aemond's chambers. He had promised to pass on your message, though he could scarcely look you in the eye.

Your family had planned to leave as the sun set to avoid the heat. He'd had all day to respond and to speak with you, but he had chosen not to even send a response. All you had wanted to do was apologize to him, but you knew now as a woman that you truly had nothing for which to apologize. In truth, what you had been feeling back then was a deep sense of shame and guilt for having hurt and angered the Prince as much as you had, but it had not been your fault.

You uncrossed your arms with a heavy sigh. "What is it you wish to know?" He pulled his hand away from his face.

"Did your parents tell you why you've returned?"

You shrugged. "In truth, I can see a few reasons why my family has dragged me back to this circus. There may be a war coming, after all."

"The Princess accepted our terms."

You smiled at him with feigned pity. "The Princess, yes, but what of her husband? Do you think they call him the Rogue Prince for his mild disposition and penchant for peace? Perhaps he'll kill her, return to King's Landing on dragonback, and burn the whole thing to the ground under cover of night."

He visibly swallowed, his pale neck bobbing. "Perhaps. But I doubt it."

"Let us hope you are correct, Prince Aemond."

He squared his shoulders and stood up straight, towering at his full height. There was enough distance between you that you did not feel dwarfed by him, but you knew it would be different if he were close enough to touch. As children, you had been the taller one for a time, until you stopped growing. When he had asked you to dance last night, your neck had actually hurt a bit at the strain of looking up at him. Your heart had been in your throat, breath hitching at the way the orange light in the grand hall danced on the side of his chiseled face. Prince Aemond was truly a man now, and the sight of him so grown twisted your insides.

"My brother is King now," he declared and you nodded with a slight smile on your face. "There are few who would dare stand against us."

If war was not an immediate concern, there was only one other reason for your family's return that seemed feasible to you. As a girl, you had been promised to the Prince who now stood before you, but the betrothal had been broken shortly after the loss of his eye. To this day, you were not sure who had finally decided to sever that tie. You only knew that before Prince Aemond left for his cousin's funeral on Driftmark, you were betrothed to him, and then a mere fortnight after his return, your father was screaming at you with his large fist in your hair, demanding to know what you had done wrong as your mother corralled your youngest sister out of the room. A lady only in station, as your mother often said of you, you refused to cower or cry whenever he flew into one of his rages. He was your Lord Father and you were the first in a line of five daughters, and the least ladylike girl at court. Was it any surprise he was often angry with you? In his eyes, you were his first failure as a man. Even with that, you were the only one of his daughters to inherit his temperament.

"Hm, then perhaps we are to be married off just as when we were children."

He wet his lips. "Does this displease you?"

"Oh, yes. Deeply." Something stirred in your chest then, some deep threatening rumble. Prince Aemond had written to you for years after your return to Casterly Rock and you devoured each and every word he wrote, but never once did he impart upon you the words you had wanted to read most of all. For two years now, he had stopped, and you would be lying if you said the loss had not broken your heart anew. "To be married to a man so proud and self-satisfied that he cannot even apologize?" You chuckled cheerlessly. "Gods, how unfortunate."

The atmosphere between the two of you grew heavy and oppressive. It seemed as though the trees around you were leaning closer to catch every single word exchanged. The water rushing behind the man in front of you grew louder, or maybe you were the one growing more tense and ready to strike back if he raised a hand to you out here.

His nostrils flared. "I was a child, Y/N."

"So was I," you hissed, jabbing a finger into your chest and baring your teeth at him. "You promised me that-"

"When you saw what had been done to me, you looked at me with so much-"

"I was devastated, Aemond!" Gods, your voice sounded so wild and shrill even to your own ears. You felt yourself get hot, tears coming to life in your clear eyes as you desperately blinked them away.

His mouth curled downwards in disgust. "Yes, I am aware of what you thought of the sorry state I was in."

You glared at him, your body vibrating as you fought to keep it in place. "Oh, and what is that exactly?"

When he spoke to you, he looked you up and down as if you were covered in manure and offending him just by being where he could see you. "That my deformity would shame you and your family, that I was incomplete."

"You are such a fucking imbecile!" you bellowed, your scream echoing briefly and then being swallowed in the cold air. "You were ashamed, you felt incomplete!" You swung your arms in the air, aching to punch him in the face, to climb on top of him and strike him as he had you all those years ago.

When Aemond's hand had made contact with your cheek back then, you remembered feeling an absolute, resounding emptiness inside yourself for one eternal moment before he was on you again, making you howl in pain as he fought you with all the desperation of a wounded animal. Thankfully, the milk of the poppy the maesters had given him had weakened him. His tears were hot and thick as they landed on your face wet with your own tears. You had managed to claw at his hands and neck, slashing blindly to try to create space between your bodies.

When Ser Criston stormed in with his sword drawn, he immediately sheathed it and separated the writhing tangle of screams and violence the two of you had become. You were only thirteen at the time, but you felt so much younger as you cowered behind the knight's white cloak, clinging to the fabric with your hands wet with blood, snot, and tears. It took nearly an hour before you could stop shaking. The Prince was not supposed to have visitors so soon after his injury, but nobody would tell you what had happen and you had gotten curious, so you had scaled the tall tree outside his chambers and climbed in through the open window. How you had grown to regret that curiosity...

You were both trembling in front of each other now, your legs and arms feeling like they were filled with tight copper coils. What would happen if you were to release that tension? Would you really attack the Prince? Would he attack you? More importantly, did he not deserve your ire, your ferocity, and your violence?

"You knew about the sort of man my father was," you said in a low voice, "And you..." You pointed an accusatory finger at Aemond and he flinched, looking at his shiny boots briefly before meeting your gaze again. "You promised me you would never raise a hand to me. You promised me that violence was not an inevitability. We were both children back then, yes, but were you still a child when you stopped writing to me?"

"Oh, spare me the theatrics," he groaned, "you never even wrote back!"

"I was waiting for an apology! Just one. That was all I wanted, all I would have needed. I know you were in pain, that you were not yourself, and I can forgive that. But I cannot forgive this lack of an apology."

"Did it ever occur to you that I was too ashamed to ask for your forgiveness?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I looked at you the way I did when I saw what that boy had done to you because it pained me to see you that way?" Neither of you said anything for a few long moments before you continued. "Nobody would tell me what was going on. All I knew was that you were not to be allowed any visitors, not even me. I begged your brother and sister to share their knowledge with me, but even Aegon kept the secret." You rubbed your arms as you felt yourself start shaking. Whether it was from the wind rushing through the clearing or the emotions surging through your body, you were unsure. "You were my only true friend in this ridiculous place and I was afraid for you and when I showed you my fear, you punished me for it. And then you never once offered any sort of apology, you just continued living your life and writing me those stupid fucking letters."

Guilt settled onto his pained face as he pursed his lips. "I am sorry, Y/N. Hurting you like that, it has been my biggest shame."

His words were like a lance through your heart. Why could he not have written that to you years ago? You shook your head, blinking away more tears as they twinkled in your vision. "I don't want it anymore. You had years for that, Aemond." Your lower lip trembled and you turned away, placing your hands flat on Nymeria's flank and focusing for a moment just on matching her breathing. It was an exercise you had tried for the first time after an explosive fight with your father and it was now one of the few things that could ground you when you were in genuine distress.

"What must I do to earn your forgiveness? Tell me, and it will be done. Please, Y/N, you were my friend as well. I wrote to you because I could not forget you."

You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against your horse, your face rising and falling with her breathing.

When Aemond had allowed you to peek under his bandages to see the damage, his eye had been closed tightly. The angry cut underneath, coupled with the swelling, the thick black stitches, yes, it had all unnerved you. A deep primal feeling roared in your chest, a possessive need to both destroy and protect. You had never felt that way before. A sob had torn its way out of your throat, your eyes drowning in angry, impotent tears. If his own mother could not help him, what could you do? It seemed your look of horror and anguish was too close to disgust or, as was more likely, Aemond's own pain distorted your expression into one of pure revulsion.

It mattered little now. You had no marks anywhere on your person from that unfortunate day, not from Aemond or from your father. If nothing else, you were thankful for that. You never climbed again, having more than learned your lesson about curiosity and how little you stood to benefit from it.

You turned to him again, your heart clenching at the sight of his open, unguarded stare. "You broke my heart," you said simply, "but I read every letter. I wanted so badly to know that you were all right. What I wanted then was to protect you."

"You wanted to protect me?"

You nodded. "Do you not ever feel that way for someone in your life? The desire to defy time, to go back, and be there when they needed you most?"

"I often feel that way for my mother and sister, and... for you. Cole gave me your note that day, though..."

"You did not read it."

"I did not. What did it say?"

The years had washed away the specific words. "I wanted to see you in the courtyard before my family left. I had been hoping to beg for your forgiveness for having angered you so, and perhaps to salvage our betrothal. It's funny, I look back now and all I see is a scared little girl who just wanted her father so stop being mad at her. I am glad you did not come. I owed you no apology."

"You did not, I saw that even back then."

If only you had been able to see it, too.

You were the only one of your sisters to be born at Casterly Rock, but you had spent the vast majority of your life here in King's Landing. Your father traveled back and forth between the Rock and the Keep, leaving your uncle to look after the family in his stead. It was because of your uncle that you had even had the opportunity to meet Prince Aemond, his brother, and Princess Rhaenyra's sons in the training yard.

Your uncle did not care that you wore pants, thinking it to be a silly habit of childhood that you would willingly outgrow as you blossomed into a woman. He would be wrong, but freedom was always welcome. You had scaled the high stone walls around the training yard, carefully climbing up into the high branches of a tall tree to lounge in a cloud of bright green leaves and watch the boys practice. It was a few days before any of them even noticed you.

You had known Prince Aemond almost your entire life. The trust you'd had for him had been near-infinite before he hurt you. But you were a woman grown now. It had been nine long years since your departure and you had grown to understand why it had all happened the way it had. If Aemond understood that he had to earn your trust again and you understood why he reacted to you in such a cruel way, then what else was left but to continue in some simple way? If you knew your father at all, the reason he had dragged you back here was for a marriage pact.

"I think it is best to begin to make our peace with each other out here, away from prying eyes."

"Shall we say I left for Driftmark all those years ago and never returned?"

Your heart clenched. "It seems near enough to the truth to bring some comfort."

You both nodded, your bodies shuffling awkwardly before he broke the silence. "Shall we go for a ride?" You snorted when he gestured to the horses behind you. "What?"

"My Prince, it is not my wish to humiliate you."

"I'm not so bad."

"Some might find that to be just another way of saying you are not so good. Dragon riding and horseback riding are not the same. I cannot simply tell Nymeria to obey me and have it be done. She must know me first. It has nothing to do with me being worthy. I must earn her trust, her obedience, and her love everyday. What is your horse's name?"

He shrugged. "I haven't the faintest notion. He was the first horse I was able to find in the stables."

You nodded sagely. "Ah, so you are a fool." When he sputtered and opened his mouth to argue with you, you held your hands up with a laugh. "It is only a jape, my Prince! I would prefer to go for a walk along the water, if it pleases you."

In a few minutes, the two do you were walking side by side along the riverbank with your respective horses. When you looked down at your feet, you noticed that you and Prince were walking in step together and it brought a faint smile to your lips. You had missed him for many years, those letters he sent you making it near impossible to move on. After two full years without them, you had declared yourself cured of any affection for or attachment to the man beside you, but it was clear to you now that you had been deluding yourself. All your emotions had just been pushed into the darkest depths of your heart and being around him again brought sent them floating back to the surface.

"Is it true that you have an ever-burning blue flame under that eye patch?"

He snorted. "Obviously not. Is that what people are saying about me?"

"It's mostly just the women." You both smiled at each other. "You have striking features, it is no surprise you find yourself the subject of idle gossip."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Merely a neutral statement of truth, my Prince."

The apples of his cheeks were a dusty pink like the inside of a rose, but you were sure it was just the biting wind. "I must admit, my Lady, I never thought I would see you in a dress." At the mention of it, your ears burned red and hot like irons in a fire. You only wore dresses when your Lady Mother demanded it of you. Whatever your differences, you knew everything about you reflected on your house and it was not your desire to have a relationship with her that was full of constant strife. Because of that, you had acquiesced and worn the uncomfortable, form-fitting dress your mother had presented for you.

It was pretty. The fabric was a deep crimson and it hugged your curves, exposing you in a way that make you feel weak and irritable. Your breasts bulged over the top with every inhale, so you'd hunched your shoulders to try to hide it. Your mother had noticed, though, and corrected you with a firm hand on your back. Your bare neck and shoulders felt too much like an invitation to you and, as you'd expected, more men let their gazes linger on every bit of exposed skin and even worked up the nerve to speak with you. Of course your appearance emboldened them. You'd felt like a prey animal lost in the woods, naked and trembling in the breeze.

When you retired to your chambers last night, you had the servants draw you a hot bath and practically ripped the dress off your body. It seemed to cling to you like a desperate lover, but you took great pleasure in throwing it on the floor, along with your dainty golden rings, your ruby earrings, and the thin chain one of the servants had wound into your braids. You were not a doll, not a decoration, not a flower. You were a lion.

"My Lady Mother has me very well trained." If you so much as suggested wearing pants to any sort of gathering, she would immediately start wailing about how you did not love her and lived every moment of your life as a ploy to personally humiliate her and destroy your father's standing. After a few years, it became tiring to constantly be accused of plotting to overthrow your own house, and you learned to simply smile and wear a dress for a few hours.

"Hm, I thought it would be your father."

"No, he only demanded I dance with you, but I told him I would sooner put my neck on the executioner's block than agree to that. He told me he could arrange for it if I truly wanted it." The fights you had with your father now frequently bordered on the ridiculous.

"So you and your father still fight."

After your return from Essos six moons ago, it was not infrequent for him to threaten to cut out your tongue if you spoke out of turn, to which you would respond with a similar threat to his manhood. Whatever fear you'd had of him had worn away throughout the years, finally fading into nothing after your travels.

"Not as much. Maybe he's grown bored of the constant struggle, but my mother has taken up the mantle for him. I suppose that is what marriage is all about: sharing burdens. In truth, I do not believe the gods fashioned me for that."

"The gods fashioned us for love." You bit your lip to keep from laughing. Aemond had always been the pious sort, forever dutiful and tangled in his mother's skirts. It seemed time had not changed that, and it endeared you to him.

"Love, perhaps, but marriage? Childrearing? Do you truly see yourself in that?"

"I have always known it was my destiny to be married off to a Lady of a Great House and have children with her."

"But is it what you want?"

"I do not think those in our position can ask those sorts of questions. It is my duty, so it will be done. It is your duty as well. We should see ourselves as lucky that we have been able to outrun fate as long as we have."

You hummed, looking up towards the muted sunlight streaming through the tops of the trees around you. "An easy thing for you to say, my Prince, when you will never have to face the threat of bleeding to death in a birthing bed. Were we to have children, I would be the wound and you the knife."

"It needn't be that way," he said softly and you looked at him curiously. "A child can grow strong without a father, but he needs his mother. I would never risk that."

"So if it came down to it, you would not cut me open to save the babe?" It was a bold question, yes, but a necessary one. You had a right to know if your Lord Husband planned to kill you someday. If nothing else, you could make better use of your remaining time alive.

"Never."

You knew most men, considering the wife's use to be at its end, would kill her to keep the son. Your own grandsire had done it to his first wife and had even boasted about his unflinching, steadfast commitment to having an heir. What a barbarian. When he finally died and your father was named the new Lord of Casterly Rock, your cheeks had hurt from how much you grinned at his funeral.

You gifted Aemond an affectionate smile, looking back down at your feet still marching in step together when he gazed back at you. "If you are being truthful, then you are a unique man indeed, peerless and without equal."

"You are kind, my Lady."

You let silence fill the space between your bodies, listening to the crunch of grass and pebbles beneath your boots as you walked together. The river felt even quieter now, a mere whisper in your ear. The sun was settling into its spot high in the sky, the light hitting you now closer to gold than silver. Though the day was still cold, you were starting to grow a touch too warm under your coat.

"What have you done with yourself these past few years?" You turned your head to Aemond in surprise. Curiosity was normal, you supposed, but it still confounded you. "You never answered my letters, so I was left to piece together gossip and tell myself stories."

"In truth, there is little to share. After my return to Casterly Rock, my relationship with my father was... difficult to manage, at first. I often felt that he saw me as little more than a failed son, but he grew to accept me in his own way. He allowed me to train with the sword, and to study nearly whatever I wished."

"You are fortunate. Perhaps when we return to the Red Keep, we can explore the library together." You could not help but grin sheepishly at his invitation, the fluttering in your stomach making you feel young and girlish. "You can show me your book, if you'd like."

"I would like that very much. I am afraid I do not have many peers. Though I love my sisters, we do not understand each other."

It felt as though your sisters and your mother all lived in their own world and had their own language-the language of girls, you'd heard it be called. Whatever it was, your tongue could not shape any of the words. You had been born a girl, but you did not fit with them or with the men. Mostly, you fit only with yourself.

"I feel the same way with my brother. Though we are both men, that is where the similarities end." Aemond at least felt a strong kinship with the women in his family. You... Well.

You supposed you did feel a certain strength in the bond you had with your father now, a certain comfort you could never have hoped for as a child. When you returned from your travels, the two of you spoke at length about Aemond, since he had found your hidden cache of old letters. There was nothing indecent in them, nor was there any mention of what had happened in the Prince's room that fateful day, so you were not punished for keeping the secret.

The two of you were in his study, where he managed the taxes and most of the trade out of Lannisport. For the first time in your life, you were sharing a pitcher of wine with him. 'It seems the boy still holds a torch for you, so why have you not answered him?'

'If he truly wanted me,' you'd said, swishing your drink around in its cup absently, 'he would have ridden his dragon out here to speak with me himself. These letters are nothing but the words of a craven masquerading as a romantic.'

He had leaned his head back then, and looked down his nose at you with a curious glint in his eye, as if he was regarding you for the very first time. The next morning, he gave you a present: a golden ring just like his but smaller. It was a signet ring with the Lannister crest on it held in the mouth of a lion with bright ruby eyes. Unless you were unable to wear it, it never left your hand.

"Yes, you and I have always been alike. Both dragonless."

"Both lonesome."

Your chest tightened at the memories his words brought back: memories of the rejection you had both faced for the ways you were different, but also of the comfort you had been able to find with each other. Mostly, you fit only with yourself, yes, but you had once fit with Aemond as well.

"You stopped writing to me," you grumbled. "I left Westeros with a cousin of mine for a time and upon my return, I expected a stack of letters to be waiting for me. To my surprise, there were only a few. Did you stop because I did not answer?"

"In part, yes."

"And the other part?" you pressed.

"I met a woman." Stupidly, you felt your mood sour, a bitter taste coating your tongue. Silly though it may be, some part of you imagined him to have been loveless and celibate all these years as a form of penance for you. The fact that he had well and truly gone on to live a life without you felt so indecent and wrong. Of course, you were being hypocritical. You, too, had lived your own life.

"Oh? May I ask her name?"

"You may not." Shame spread through your chest like spilled ink on parchment. "She is gone now anyway, and the less said about her, the better."

"She was not good to you?"

He hesitated before speaking. "She was lowborn, a witch, and a bastard."

You gaped at him. "Oh my. Your mother must not have liked that."

"No, she was furious with me." He sighed. "Looking back on my indiscretions now, I just feel foolish. Never in my right mind would I have pursued someone like that woman."

"But you did pursue her."

"She chose me, I did not choose her."

Slowly, you worked to complete the puzzle he was laying out for you. If he could speak plainly, it would be easier. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

He gave an exasperated sigh, twisting his mouth. "She bewitched me somehow, Y/N," he said slowly as if he were explaining the mixing of colors to a child, "I do not know how, but I know I was not myself. When I finally left her to return home, it was as though a great fog had been lifted from my mind and I could see her clearly again. By then, it was too late."

"Too-"

"But you needn't worry about her. My grandsire helped to secure her and her son safe passage to one of the Free Cities. I did not ask which one." You stopped walking abruptly, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. After a few steps, he too stopped and turned to face you. "Is something wrong?"

"Her son or your son?" He didn't answer. "Aemond. Did the child look like you?"

His gaze turned upwards, towards the sky, the trees, the gods. Away from you. "He was my son, yes. I don't know where she is now, but I hope never to see her again."

You smacked your lips together, rolling your eyes. It was true that jealousy was likely muddying your thoughts, but you could not help but feel anger towards him for sullying that unnamed woman's honor with a bastard child and then washing his hands of her so carelessly. Otto Hightower was an intimidating man with a steady, calculating gaze. As a child, you had been so scared of him that you could never even look him in the eye, much less speak to him. If he was intelligent, he had sent assassins to clean the Prince's mess instead of allowing her to flee to the east. It was what you would do.

It was more likely that the girl and her bastard son were cut from ear to ear and dumped in a river than that they were living a peaceful life in a manse on the coast of Pentos. Of course, if the Prince wanted to continue to delude himself, you would let him. The fantasy likely served as a way to ease a guilty conscience and, though you were unfamiliar with that feeling as a woman, you remembered it from your girlhood.

"I hope he sent her to Myr," you finally said and at your words, his body visibly relaxed, "I spent a few months there and I found it to be quite beautiful. The beaches are lovely at night."

"You will have to tell me about it, my Lady. I have never been to the Free Cities."

"That is very unfortunate, my Prince. Travelling broadens the mind and strengthens the spirit."

"If that is all it does, I've no need for it. I see enough of the world from atop Vhagar."

"You lack imagination, my Prince." Either that or he was afraid. You were not sure which option was pitiful and which deserving of sympathy. "Would you like me to regale you with stories of my travels? With a dragon, you could arrive in Pentos in mere hours. Perhaps my tales will light a fire in you and you will grow more adventurous."

"My last adventure ended with me as a witch's thrall," he muttered. Though the thorn of jealousy still pricked your chest, you softened at the bitterness in his voice. If the two of you were still children, this would be the moment where you reached out to take his hand or pulled him into a tight embrace until his breathing matched yours. Instead, you bit your lip and looked down at the dry grass below your feet.

"When I traveled with my cousin, I was rarely alone. We kept each other safe."

"Are you saying you would keep me safe?" There was a bemused smile on his face and the melody of his voice was soft like the song of a silver syrinx.

"I did tell you that I wanted to protect you when we were children. It appears you still need it." His eye swept over your face and down your body like a paintbrush over canvas. Though you tried, you could not help but squirm as he stared.

"How fortunate I am to have such a champion," he chuckled, gesturing for the two of you to keep walking. As you continued your aimless trek through the woods, you worked to swallow the pulsing lump in your throat. The day was warming up noticably now.

The Prince asked you about your studies and your time in the Free Cities, to which you responded with open enthusiasm. His blue eye sparkled in the warm sunlight like a precious jewel, the edges wrinkled by the easy smile on his lips. You knew you looked very much the same. The anger that had been bursting in your chest the night before was almost entirely forgotten as the two of you meandered back to where you had started.

Even on the other side of Planetos as you stood in the gardens of a lavish manse on the coast of the Narrow Sea in Pentos, your drooping eyes had been fixed on where you knew King's Landing to be on the horizon. For years, you had assumed the story you had begun to write with Aemond as a child was over, though you had not truly wanted it to be that way. A fantasy of him riding in on the dragon he had traded an eye for had filled your head with longing all that time. Despite all your various failings as a Lady, it seemed you still had some of the same dreams other women did: dreams of being a muse, of being love, desired, and adored completely, of being a home someone could return to and find comfort in. Though you had taken a few lovers during your travels, none truly moved you in the way you wanted.

You did not tell Aemond any of this. Instead, you simply answered the questions he asked you and offered him some of your own. Wherever his heart had lead him during your time apart, he was here with you now. If nothing else, you would have your friend back. You longed to reach a hand out and run your fingers along the strap of his eye patch, to slide it off his face and look upon him in a soft, restrained way.

Had his witch woman seen what lay beneath the dark leather? Had she been kind to him when he showed it to her? You hoped she had been, almost as much as you hoped he had not shown her. Despite the distance that had separated you all this time, he had remained in a class of his own in your mind. You wanted to cling to the idea that somehow, in some way, he had felt the same.

It was time to part and go back to the Red Keep and you were lingering, knowing you would immediately lose him the moment you starting riding. The sun was high in the sky now and you had unfastened all the ornate clasps in your coat to allow the breeze to cool you.

"Do you still wish to come to the library with me?"

"I do," you said. "I will bring my book of poems." You both swayed in place, unable to look at each other directly. "I suppose... we should ride back now, yes?"

"Yes," he murmured, but the moment you grabbed Nymeria's saddle, he spoke again, "wait. I... I have a question for you, so that I may understand what you hope to gain from this arrangement." His hands were flexing open and closed by his sides and you remembered the habit from childhood. He was nervous. When he noticed you looking at him hands, he hid them behind his back.

You dragged your eyes back up to his tense face. "What is your question?"

His face grew flushed and he opened his mouth once, twice, before finally asking, "did... did you think of me in our time apart?" His eye darted back and forth between yours, seemingly hoping to find the truth buried inside them.

There was a sharp tug in your chest, pulling you forward as you took a careful step towards him like you were approaching a frightened child. With your heart pounding the way it was, you very much felt like a frightened child. You cut the cord that was trapping you, allowing yourself to reach out to him slowly. If what he desired was to stop you, he had ample opportunity to do so, but he did not. With a shuddering breath, he allowed you to lay your hand on his cheek and cup the side of his face, the tip of your thumb brushing against the edge of his eye patch.

"I thought of you," you confessed, "long and often." Your eyes drifted down to his lips and the short breaths coming out of them.

As a girl, you had never kissed Aemond, though you had often wanted to as you both grew older. You considered it for a moment, tilting your mouth towards him so slightly, until you noticed the tension he was holding in his body, the way his breathing was still erratic, and how he could not seem to look at you. Gods, he looked terrified. This wasn't how you wanted it. A bit crestfallen, you retreated and granted him his space once more.

His hand darted out to grab yours in a grip so tight, it was nearly painful. "Aemond?" His eye was fixed on your joined hands, his hold loosening as his thumb gently glided over your knuckles. Just as suddenly as he had grabbed you, he released you. Something was wrong, though you could not venture a guess as to what it was. He seemed so brittle in front of you, like a thin shard of glass or a lone snowflake.

Silently, Aemond nodded once, as if steeling himself before his transformation. His shoulder squared at once, his hands carefully tucked behind his back, and an easy smile graced his lips without reaching his one blue eye. "My Lady," he stated as if reading off a bit of parchment, "I will meet you in the stables, so that we may walk to the library together."

Your skin bristled at his formal tone and you opened your mouth in protest, then thought better of it. "I look forward to it," you said with a tight smile. After giving him a polite nod, you climbed into Nymeria's saddle and charged forward without sparing him a glance.

The wind on your face was warmer now, but no less fragrant. Your stomach was in tight knots as you rode through the Kingswood, your heart filled with excitement, confusion, and embarrassment. You wished you could make some sense of it and just feel one thing then another, arranging your emotions in a neat column so they may be easier to digest.

Though Aemond still felt familiar to you, there were parts of him that were foreign and hidden. You did not know his witch woman's name or his son's or why he had seemed so timid and frightened just before you left. It was as if he was a home you had lived in your whole life, only for you to awake one morning and discover that someone had changed something in every room.

You hoped he could truly be your friend again. No, you knew he would if you were only to be given the time necessary to nurture that bond.

Your hands tightened on your reins as you quickened your pace.

After all these years, Aemond was to finally be your Lord Husband. There was a slight chance you were wrong, but you did not see the value in entertaining the possibility just for the sake of self-doubt. You knew your father, you understood the importance of your own house, and... Well, it was what you wanted. You were correct. You knew you were.

You and Aemond would have nothing but time to connect and explore. In time, he would once again be as familiar to you as the air in your lungs or your own face in the mirror. You could hardly wait.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #mine #aemond fic #i actually wanted to make this so much longer because i ended up falling in love with this reader/oc/whatever #but good god it's already so long #and i wanna write other stuff but i'm not good at juggling in that way #anyway i love writing aemond being incompetent in certain things and i will be doing it more often

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akiyamanemu · 2 years

Text

💔.Samuel, Goo, Gun when he found out that his daughter was rejected and humiliated.

Samuel:

Samuel was mad with rage, he had just welcomed his daughter home, his little girl came in crying, he almost couldn't understand what she was saying between crying and sobbing. He held his daughter against him squeezing her.

-Who did what, tell your dad. Seo said through his teeth, he was seething with hatred because apparently his daughter had been humiliated at school in front of everyone, his little girl that he always kept with the biggest treats and best things, he couldn't accept something like that. But he couldn't just hit immature teenagers, as much as he wanted to, he was already an adult and had to act like one, but there would be no harm in giving a scare in which he got his daughter. The next day Seo went to school at the end of the day, the close-fitting suit marked his muscles, the tattoos caught everyone's attention, but soon he spotted his prey, it was enough for Samuel to pass him and whisper that the boy simply froze.

-I think you'd better stay away from my daughter from now on, if you think you're someone who can humiliate her and get away with it, you're wrong, now get out of here before I disappear with you... The insane expression on my face. Seo's face was just like old times, that scared anyone.

Goo:

What a bad experience it is to mess with JoonGoo and make him serious, even worse when they mess with his daughter. Some time ago Goo had noticed that his daughter was eating poorly, didn't want to play with him anymore and was missing classes a lot, so like a worried father he decided to play detective a few minutes after his daughter left for school. school he followed her, attentive to every thing on the way, the girl muttered under her breath as she walked looking at the ground, and soon her father could understand what was going on. When approaching the surroundings of the school a couple approached the girl, the boy said to Goo's daughter that she was pathetic for having declared herself to him, that he thought she was a disgusting girl. Dad owl's nerves were already running high, he was very, very serious, but he held back a little longer until he saw what that boy was capable of, Goo's daughter cringed when the cowardly boy raised his hand to hit in it, almost in a split second Joongoo was there to receive the slap in his daughter's place.

-Hey are you crazy bro? The boy exclaimed angrily, Goo was smiling from corner to corner.

-I ask you, who do you think you are to raise your hand to my daughter? JoonGoo looked the boy in the eye, his hands were in his pockets just waiting for the boy to give the first sign that he was going to attack, and as soon as the boy raised his hand again Goo hit him with a punch, a single punch and the boy was on the ground .

-If you weren't interested in my daughter, just say no to her. Goo said in a good-natured way putting his arm around his daughter's shoulder. -By the way, next time I'll tear you to pieces.

Gun:

JongGun's daughter had spent the whole week rehearsing to ask her father for help, but she was afraid of what he might do when he learned that she had been humiliated by classmates after confessing to a boy, and has since been harassed by other students. JongGun already suspected something, he had noticed that the number of notifications from his daughter's cell phone was increasing but that she didn't smile when reading the messages as usual. He just waited for her to leave her cell phone lying around and picked it up, when he read it he can't believe it, people were making fun of his daughter, there were pictures of her with grotesque edits, name-calling, it was kind of shocking. He didn't quite know how to deal with that other than strategy, threats and violence, and even though he knew his daughter wouldn't like that, these were the weapons he intended to use.

After looking at the account of one of the boys who was making his daughter hell he found out where they used to gather, it wasn't long before the man was there dressed head to toe in a stark white suit, his sunglasses reflecting the moonlight. JongGun's hand landed on the shoulder of the boy who was holding his daughter, Gun knew it was him.

-So you are the boy who is sending those messages to my daughter... Gun took off his glasses putting them in his pocket. The boy felt a chill down his spine, only JongGun's voice was enough to put him in despair, and Gun didn't need much to finish off all those kids, at the end of it all he took the opportunity to leave a message on social media, using the boy's phone he took a picture of the boy and posted it with the caption

"I got my ass hit after messing with the wrong person, I'm dumb".

[Sorry for not doing Jay too but he's hard for me, but I hope you like it]

#lookism #lookism headcanons #x reader #lookism x reader #samuel seo #lookism jonggun #lookism joongoo

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kuichihimei · 9 months

Text

“Valentine's Day

We decided we would do the whole damn thing

But I played to an empty gym in Iowa State

I guess I owe you that too...”

0:41───•─────── 04:46

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

Looking back, freshman year was one hell of a ride, considering the frequent monster attacks and killer robots that terrorize Norrisville High.

Sophomore year is no different.

Killer robots still attack the school like, every other week, compared to every other day, and while yes, Randy DID get rid of the Sorcerer for good, there's still the Sorceress running about wreaking havoc around Norrisville.

The Sorcereress, better known for her human disguise as Amanda Levay, still manages to blend in with the crowd, despite almost every student in Norrisville High knowing who she truly is and what she's done.

We don't know much about her just yet, but based on the monsters Randy had to fight these past few weeks, she primarily targets female victims.

There's also been a spike in the amount of stanked kids during the weeks leading to February 14, and when Feb 14 rolled around, multiple people were getting stanked left and right, which lasted all morning long.

The teachers had to cancel our morning classes and made us evacuate the school so the Ninja could fight the monsters properly and we wouldn't get hurt.

Then, during the afternoon, when it all quieted down, Randy was nowhere to be found.

I tried asking Howard, and he said something along the lines of how the Ninja found the Sorcereress' lair, it was underneath the school in the old abandoned gym, and that he might not be able to make it in time for Valentine's Day since he had to destroy the Sorcereress for good while she was still close by, and that he'll make it up to me next year, along with a bunch of apologies that were conveniently recorded inside a tape recorder so Howard didn't have to recite it all.

After receiving the news, I thanked Howard and walked myself to Mr. Bannister's class, hoping that I could bury my disappointment in schoolwork.

It didn't help that the seatwork he made us do was write an essay about someone/something we love and why we love them so much.

I spent the rest of the afternoon watching couples in our school being all lovey-dovey with each other. Heck, you could even say I got jealous of Mrs. Driscoll, atleast she had her husband's skeleton to accompany her on Valentine's Day.

By the time the last bell rang and school was over I was all alone... I couldn't even have a Galentine's with Heidi or Debbie! Heidi had a date and Debbie was busy hosting a couple's event for Valentine's Day for the NHGTTWDPC online edition.

It's safe to say I was quite disappointed... And I felt really pathetic too, since I had a boyfriend, but was celebrating Feb 14 all alone...

I felt like I was on the verge of getting stanked myself, maybe then I could spend time with Randy... Sighing, I sat down on the very same I spot that I sat on during New Year's Eve.

Of all the days the Ninja could've had a fully-booked schedule, it just had to be on Valentines Day... Not to mention this was also supposed to be our very FIRST Valentine's Day together as a couple...

Don't get me wrong, I find it a HUGE honor that I am dating the Ninja, and an even bigger honor that he trusts me enough to reveal his secret identity to me. I just feel a little dejected whenever he misses out on a major event that we should be experiencing together during the course of our budding relationship.

The time was 4:53 in the afternoon, everyone (atleast those who had a date), already left the school about half an hour ago. If Randy didn't show up within the next 15 minutes, I was going home.

5 Minutes Pass... No signs of Randy...

‘I'm sure he'll show up soon...’

10 Minutes Pass... Still no signs of Randy.

‘Maybe I should wait a little longer, he's probably wrapping up the fight right now.’

25 MINUTES PASS! AND THERE IS NOT A SINGLE SIGN OF RANDALL HONKING CUNNINGHAM OR THE NINJA ANYWHERE!!!

THE SUN IS ABOUT TO FRIGGIN' SET AND HE'S NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! THAT'S IT I AM GOING HOME! Standing up, I marched towards the nearest bus stop.

Fortunately for me, there was already a bus nearby so I immediately got a ride home.

When I got to my house, I locked myself in my room, bawled my eyes out and went to bed, even though it was only 6:03 in the afternoon. I just wanted Valentine's Day to end at this point, I'm just done with everything today.

Meanwhile somewhere else in Norrisville:

“What do you mean you're all out⁈” An exasperated Randy yells.

“Sorry kid, but I can't help you. All of my flowers have been sold out this morning, it's Valentine's Day after all...”

“It's fine sir, thanks anyways...” The younger boy turns, walking away, feeling defeated.

All of the sudden a young girl who looks about six approaches him.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing... Chocolates, flowers, not even a honkin' stuffed animal, it's all sold out...”

“Well, we can still steal some Tulips from the park if you're that desperate...”

“Aira, I won't steal Tulips from the park, and neither of our parents taught us to steal— Who taught you that?”

“Well, you want to make it up to Ate 'Reese right? And she also likes Tulips right?”

“But still— Oh who am I kidding, let's go.”

“Ha—”

“But stealing is still wrong, don't get used to it. You can't always steal the things that you want, ok?”

“Ok Kuya!”

Fast forward almost 5 hours later, the time was 10:13 at night and the ninja could be seen outside the Fowler household watching from a tree.

Everyone in the neighborhood was fast asleep, which meant Randy couldn't call Theresa from her front yard, since he might wake up the whole household if he did so, he couldn't call her from the backyard either since... That's where they kept their chicken coops...

He was pinned between two bad options:

Wait it out 'til tomorrow so he could give her the flowers, but miss Valentine's Day and face a disappointed Theresa, or try entering her room through the window as the Ninja, so he could give her the flowers and she could be happy and have a gift for Valentine's Day, but face the consequences of being seen as a creep since y'know, he's breaking into her room through the honkin' window!

‘Was this what the Nomicon meant about choosing between the greater good and the lesser evil?’

After some careful consideration, he chooses the latter of the two options, which was to break in. He didn't want to disappoint Theresa more than he already did today, this was his chance to try and make it up to her.

This was one of those go big or go home moments. One slip-up, and it might be over for the both of them.

The plan was simple: try to enter the window that was facing the tree in her backyard, fiddle with the lock, place the flowers on her nightstand and leave, simple right?

‘What could possibly go wrong?’

Everything. Everything went wrong from the get-go. The moment he lost his footing on the ledge of her window and fell into one of her family's chicken coops, was the moment he knew, he was done for.

Theresa was woken up by a loud thud, she immediately went to open her window to see what was going on. She was quite shocked to see her boyfriend all suited-up and highkey panicking at all the chickens that were waking up and surrounding him.

“Randy! What the juice are you doing here⁈” Theresa whisper-yelled from the second floor.

“H-hey Theresa! Nothing, just passing by!” Randy replies, trying to play it cool, even though he was about to pass out from all the chickens that were surrounding him.

“It looks like you can't move, did you hurt yourself?”

“No, I didn't!”

“Wait— Are you afraid of the chickens?”

“Wh-what?”

“I said, are you afraid of the chickens? Because Aira told me you had a fear of them when I babysat her last week.”

“Well that little—”

“Hang in there, I'll come and get you!”

Theresa went downstairs and came into the backyard, she threw some corn kernels to divert the chickens away from her boyfriend, who was shaking like a pair of maracas.

“Thanks for saving me 'Reese, I owe you big time, again...”

“Why are you here Randall?” Theresa asked, helping him up.

“I uh— I wanted to—”

“Actually, save it for later, come inside, you must be exhausted. Don't worry, Howard told me everything.”

“Uh, won't your parents/brothers mind?”

“Well you can stay in my room, we just have to be sneaky about iiiiiiiiii—” Theresa's mind went blank for a second.‘Oh shoot— Guy, guy in my room. I AM LITERALY INVITING A GUY INTO MY ROOM!’

‘Girl, room, sneak— A GIRL WANTS TO SNEAK ME INTO HER ROOM?! IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING I—’

Cue internal screaming from the both of them.

After that predicament was quickly settled, Theresa led a now de-suited Randy upstairs to her room and gave him a bowl of instant noodles and a spork.

“Look, I know it ain't much, but I have a feeling you've most likely never ate anything since this morning. I didn't even see you during lunch.”

“Thanks for the noodles 'Reese, I really appreciate it.” Randy said, before slurping the noodles.

“Why did you come here this late? It's like, 10:54 at night!”

“Wait, hold on—” Swallowing the noodles, before answering. “I wanted to give you this.” As Randy presents a small bouquet of pink and yellow Tulips, handing it to Theresa.

“I know, it's not much either, you won't believe how we got that bouquet.” Taking another gulp of broth. “Aira suggested we should steal it at first and I was like— bla blah bla blah...” Randy continues to blabber on and on, while Theresa spaces out after receiving the gift.

‘He didn't forget about you. He even got you the same flowers he used to de-stank you back in freshman year, how sweet...’

“Theresa? You okay?”

“Yeah... I'm great. Thanks for the gift Randy...”

“Well I'm glad you like it 'Reese! Happy Valentine's Day!” Randy said with a smile on his face.

“Happy Valentine's Day too, Randy...” Theresa smiles back.

“Where's your kitchen by the way? So I can wash the bowl and spork in the sink.”

“No need for any of that, you can just leave it here!”

“Really? Here? It's kinda rude if I leave the bowl lying around. Are you sure? It's just one bowl, I can wash it.”

“It's ok, you can leave it here, and like you've said it's just one bowl...”

“Okay then... Well, I've gotta go now! It's getting late and we have school tomorrow.” Randy said, placing the bowl on the nightstand and heading towards the window.

“Wait— Before you go, did you manage catch the Sorceress?”

He comes to a halt. “No, I didn't catch her. She wasn't even in the old abandoned gym... I got baited...”

“Oh...”

“Yeah, I'm sorry Theresa, I missed Valentine's Day and didn't even catch the Sorceress...”

“It's ok Randy, I understand, but you didn't miss Valentine's Day! Atleast you still tried to make it, most guys just give up at this point!”

“But still, I feel really stupid for not choosing to spend time with you today. I'm really sorry for that, I'll make it up to you next year, I promise.” He was startled when Theresa hugged him all of the sudden.

“Like I said, it's OK. I understand.”

“I'm still very new to this whole boyfriend thing... I'm sorry if I'm doing anything wrong...” Hugging her back.

“It's ok, you're doing your best and that's enough... I'm pretty new to this girlfriend ordeal as well.”

They were hugging for like, 2 minutes until Theresa lets go.

“It's really late, you should get going.”

“Oh yeah, What time is it by the way?”

“11:23 p.m.”

“Yup, I am definitely gonna sleep through first period tomorrow, I've gotta go!”

“Ok Randy, take care!”

“See ya at school tomorrow 'Reese! Goodnight, I love you!” Bidding his girlfriend goodbye while jumping out of the window mid-transformation.

“I love you too Randy, Goodnight!”

What a nice evening... If only Randy knew the Sorceress was under his nose the whole time...

❈ Sidenote: Ate and Kuya are used by younger children to refer to someone who's older than them in the Philippines. ‘Ate’ is the term for older sister, while ‘Kuya’ is the term for older brother.

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Masterlist

#fowlham #christmas in june #randy cunningham #theresa fowler #rc9gn

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shyvioletcat · 2 years

Text

A/N: Not gonna lie to you, I got a little lazy on the editing towards the end there. I might come back for another go at it but my brain was just like mmm, no thanks. Hope you enjoy? this chapter. Thanks for reading!

~ Made of Ashes Masterlist ~

~~~~~

All up Aelin was in hospital for three days after giving birth to Elspeth. When the midwives found out she was a single mother they talked to her about staying in for an extra few days to get the hang of things. Aelin was hesitant at first, her own mother would be staying for a little while to support her through the chaos that having a newborn in the home would entail and help her get on her feet. She’d weighed the decision that first day in between hearing tests and weighings and check-ups. Staying wasn’t a necessity, despite being single Aelin would have support from everyone around her, she’d even caught wind of some kind of roster being made up. It might have been her independent streak kicking in again, or maybe her desire to learn everything she could firsthand from people who worked with babies every single day—either way Aelin agreed.

But when her milk came in, holy gods she was glad she stayed. Aelin hadn’t expected for it to hurt as much as it did. As if her body hadn’t already suffered enough, the way her breasts were swelling and aching all over had her crying more than once. She tried every trick in the book to try and alleviate the pain and discomfort, listened very closely to every lactation lesson the midwives gave her. By some divine blessing little Elise cottoned on to the whole eating thing pretty quickly and made things that much easier for her mum. Didn’t completely stop the pain or the unavoidable blistering though.

Over those days in hospital visitors came and went to meet the new addition to the family. Her father had come as soon as he was allowed, Aedion wasn’t far behind only having been slowed down by his own child’s need to sleep. Lysandra had helped Ruben hold his baby cousin and Aelin hadn’t missed the longing gleam in Aedion’s eye as she sat with the two children on her lap. The only non-family member who had come to see Aelin and Elspeth was Elide, bringing snacks and a congratulations card from Korbin made with help from Lorcan. He’d left his own message in the card, a surprisingly sweet gesture from him. Their car ride to the hospital had brought him and Aelin closer, it seemed.

Then on day four of Elsie’s life, Aelin packed up her things, said goodbye and thank you to the midwives, and left the hospital with her daughter in her arms. It was exciting, all these months of varying pain and uncertainty and now Aelin had her baby in her arms. Her mother carried the bags and Aelin held Elsie close as they walked out to the parking lot. Evalin was beaming just as much as Aelin was, already so in love with her granddaughter. Both grandparents were besotted.

Rhoe Galathynius was easy to spot when the trio stepped outside the hospital doors. If his still imposing height and build didn’t give him away, his overflowing bubbling excitement would have. He’d parked as close to the entrance as he could get, leaning on the car while he waited. There was pure elation on his face when he spotted them. He darted forward to take the bags from his wife, stealing as many glances at Elsie as he could, then hurried back to the car to load them in. By the time Aelin got to the car he was done and was instantly hovering around her, kissing his daughter’s forehead before gently rubbing over Elsie’s beanie.

“How are you today?” he asked, eyes excitedly darting from daughter to granddaughter.

Aelin shrugged. “Oh you know, getting there.” Concern flashed over his face and she felt the need to reassure him a little more. “I’m fine, Dad, really. It just takes a minute to get over the whole birthing a child thing.”

“Okay yeah, that’s fair,” he responded, then Elsie took up his whole attention. “Hello, little princess.”

He looked like he wanted to take the baby, he was so excited and so enamoured that Aelin almost passed her over disregarding her own need to get home. But then Rhoe took a step back and held his hands up like he was defeated.

“Let’s just get you two home,” he said, evidently the battle with himself over what to do had been an internal one. “I’ll get my cuddles later.”

“That’s very rational of you, Rhoe,” Evalin teased her husband, kissing his cheek. “Shows a great deal of selflessness.”

“I really can’t wait to be in my own bed,” Aelin admitted aloud.

Still smiling, Rhoe opened the back door where the baby seat was and Aelin eased the infant into it. She had spent a solid hour when she’d bought the thing reading the instructions and going over all functioning aspects of it and made sure her parents bought the exact same one. So, Aelin knew how to do this. Each arm went through the straps and then prongs went into the buckle. As much as a newborn could, Elsie looked displeased by the whole thing. Her little brow was scrunched and she pouted, she even managed a little squawk when Aelin readjusted her beanie.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon enough,” Aelin said and lent over for a quick kiss on her head before closing the car door.

“Do you want front or back?” Evalin asked.

“Back,” Aelin said and headed around the car.

Her father was waiting for her again, holding the door open and closing it behind her once Aelin was safely inside. After clicking in her buckle, Aelin reached over to check on Elsie. A tiny fist flailed and Aelin caught it, running her thumb over the soft skin. Suddenly worried that Elsie was too cold, Aelin looked for something to cover her with.

“Hey, Mum. Can you pass me a swaddle from the nappy bag?” Aelin asked, realising very quickly that all that she had carried out was the actual baby.

There were a few moments of rustling and then Evalin reached back with a swaddle in hand. “Here you go.”

Wincing at the pain from reaching over a little more, Aelin tucked the fabric around her baby. One of Elsie’s legs kicked out but besides that she seemed to be okay with being covered. She even managed to hook a little fist under the muslin and work it into her mouth. Aelin smiled, she was so in love right now. Each little movement Elsie made was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

By the end of the twenty minute drive Elsie did start to get restless. Unless sleeping, this was probably the longest she had gone without being in someone’s arms. By the time they were parking under Aelin’s apartment building Elsie was starting to cry, little broken sounds that announced her displeasure. Aelin tried her best to soothe from where she sat but it wasn't enough.

As soon as the car was in park Aelin was moving, the belt unbuckled before the engine was off and then out of the door. By the time Aelin had got around to the car seat Elsie had decided she well and truly had enough.

“Oh, my darling. Just hold on,” Aelin murmured. She flicked off the swaddle and pushed the red button that released the buckle. Scooping Elsie out of the car Aelin held her to her shoulder and started rocking gently from side to side.

“Here, you go get settled and we’ll bring up your things,” Evalin said as she passed Aelin her keys.

Aelin gave her mother a grateful smile and was moving straight for the elevator. Shushing and whispering sweet words the whole ride up, when the elevator stopped moving Aelin was never more thankful to reach her floor. Her boobs were starting to feel heavy so it was very likely that Elsie was fussing because she was hungry. Unlocking her door Aelin nudged it closed behind her and went straight for the nursery. She was in the rocking chair a moment later, working the buttons of her shirt and then unclipping her bra. The latching was still a little bit of a fumble but Elsie was hungry enough that she didn’t care.

It went quiet and Aelin sighed. She was home, they were home. An immediate feeling of contentment settled over her.

“I know we rushed in but I hope you like your room,” Aelin said softly. “Your Granddad and my friend worked very hard on it. They wouldn’t even let me help. They’re a touch overprotective but they do it out of love, trust me.”

Aelin sat in the quiet, and eventually eased her phone out of her pocket. There were a few messages, most from Lysandra just checking in. She left them unanswered for now, just taking a moment to ground herself after the scramble to get in. Leaning her head back, Aelin closed her eyes, humming some random tune. When her phone buzzed again she peeked an eye open, seeing that it was just a text from Aedion. Once she had both hands free she would have to reply.

Aelin’s phone drew another thought, an unwelcome one at that. She’d been so busy and distracted she hadn’t thought much about the voicemail Rowan had left. There were no regrets over what she had done, she had no desire to hear what he had to say. She’d worked through her own closure, she knew that it was over. The only reason she had kept his number in her phone was to help avoid situations like this. So she would know if and when he decided to contact her and evidently it had paid off. After what he had done and said to her, he did not have the privilege of dividing her attention from the new focus in her life. He no longer held any importance here, he had served his purpose and even though it had taken months for her to work through the pain and grief of it all, Aelin was determined not to owe him anything.

And yet she couldn't deny she was curious as he had said.

A soft whimpering stopped wherever that thought was now going. “You done now, huh?”

Aelin propped Elsie up, holding her steady with a hand under her chin and re-clipped her bra. Then she grabbed a burp cloth from the caddy that was prepared for this exact purpose. Rubbing and patting at Elsie’s back, Aelin waited for the burp and most likely a little bit of spew. She’d had plenty of practice with Rue so at least with this Aelin knew what she was doing. Everything else she would take in her stride and learn along the way. She was ready for it.

“It’s you and me now,” Aelin told Elsie, rubbing her back. “This will be your room, and my bedroom is just out that door. So anytime you need me, you just let me know and I’ll be right there, I promise. We’ll make this our own little world where no one can hurt us. Somewhere for you and me to work things out, no matter what comes.” At that, Elsie burped and a line of whitish drool followed. Aelin wiped it away, then lifted her daughter into her hands so that they could look at each other. It took her a moment, but Elsie’s eyes settled on her mother’s face and Aelin felt something flutter in her chest at that soft recognition. Smiling, and with tears starting to gather Aelin said, “Welcome home, Elspeth.”

~~~~~

Rowan had given up hope of a reply. After leaving the voicemail he’d had instant regret and if he could he would have deleted it himself. That wasn’t an option, so there had been a few tense days where Rowan was wound tight, just waiting for something that evidently was not coming. After four days of silence and looking at his phone with his heart in his throat at every notification that lit up his screen, Rowan accepted it. Aelin would not be returning his call in any shape or form. That moment of vulnerability had cost him nothing but his pride.

Work was his solace. It was still that steady constant in his life he could rely on, that he could fixate on and only see constructive results. Through everything his job had not failed him… when just about everything else had.

He was at his desk now, going over a proposal from one of the lower managers. It was decent but it would need some tweaking if it was going to make the best impression. Rowan was caught up on a line so when there was a knock on his door he didn’t look up straight away—he read over it once more, added a note and then looked up. Finding Maeve standing in his doorway was a surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was you,” Rowan said, trying not to sound startled. “Please, come in.”

Those last words weren’t necessary because Maeve was already walking towards Rowan’s desk. She looked refined, as always, today wearing a dark pencil skirted dress and low heels. In her early 40s Maeve was still an attractive woman, in a severe and imposing way. She leant on his desk, his side so Rowan had to roll his chair backwards slightly to see her better with a little more distance between them.

“I was just dropping by to let you know that I’ll be heading to Rifthold in a few weeks. I don’t expect the place to burn down in my absence, but,” there was a delicate shrug of her shoulder and she gave him a knowing smile. Cairn’s epic blunder was still fresh in everyone’s mind and Rowan had no idea why Maeve still kept him around. “Of course I’ll be leaving you in charge while I’m there. But then again, I was wondering if you’d like to join me?”

The question took Rowan by surprise, his brows pinching as he considered it. There was no need for him to go to Rifthold, and there was no real desire to. If Rowan went it would be superfluous, he’d do much more for the company here. He might lose his carefully constructed focus if he left now.

“I think I would be of more use here,” Rowan said mildly, not wanting to cause offence.

Maeve’s lips curled into a smile and she went to say something, but that was interrupted by another knock. This time Rowan eyes darted to the door straight away, and was surprised by his visitor yet again. His mother stood there, her face stern as she stepped into his office fully.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, her voice overly polite.

“Not at all,” Maeve said coolly.

“I was in the area and thought Rowan might want to join me for lunch,” Iris explained.

“What a lovely idea. Take your mother to lunch, Rowan. You deserve it after what you’ve done.” Maeve stalked out of the office, Rowan eyes followed her. He was surprised to see the venom in his mother’s eyes as she watched his boss go too. Maeve was almost completely gone when she took a single step back to resituate herself in the doorway. “If you change your mind just let me know, it's my treat.”

Maeve left, her heels clacking on the floors as she did. The door was shut by his mother’s hand just before she asked, “What was all that about?”

Rowan shrugged. “Just work.”

“Hmm,” was Iris' very short reply.

“What?” Rowan asked, trying to decipher whatever she was trying to get at and failing.

“After all you’ve done and her treat. What might that be?” Iris pressed, readjusting the light jacket on her arm.

“Just work things,” Rowan said. “She was asking if I wanted to go to Rifthold on a work trip, I said no.”

“I see.” Iris still sounded apprehensive. “So are you available for lunch?”

Rowan thought it over. His first instinct was to say no, but then he also knew that the only reason his mother would have to be in this part of the city was to visit him in the first place. And now that she was here he might as well make it worth her while. Rowan had been dodging calls and texts, so this was her drastic measure to connect with him and give him some peace for a short while. Iris Whitethorn was known for her relentlessness— she would not give up on him. So this would buy him some time, however short a respite it might be.

“Yeah, I am. Did you have a place in mind?”

They ended up at a quaint little cafe, not too far from Rowan’s office building. The small talk was very brief as they walked through the regular lunchtime rush. They both ordered a sandwich and a coffee and silence fell as the wait for their food began. Rowan’s phone went off, giving him a small escape. It was from Lorcan with nothing important to say. Rowan had quite a few unread messages from his friends actually. They hadn’t taken precedence, something else had drawn away his attention. This one, like those other messages, wasn't urgent and he’d get back to it later.

“How are you, Rowan?” Iris was ready to cut to the chase. “Now that things have… settled.”

“Things are fine,” Rowan said reflexively.

His mother let out a heavy, almost disbelieving, sigh. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“There is nothing to talk about,” Rowan protested. He’d given his family all the information they needed. He was a 27 year old man, he didn’t need them hovering or fussing over him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Iris lent on the table, her brown eyes searching over him. He let her look and letting her come to her own conclusion. She sighed again, sitting a little straighter. “Where are you, son?”

Rowan knew what she meant, truthfully he’d been feeling it as well. He hadn’t been his full self for a while. That’s what happened when you had shut down parts of yourself just to function. There were more important things to focus on. Things that were productive. Things that had outcomes he could proactively work towards. “I’m right here.”

His mother gave him a look like she didn’t quite believe him.

~~~~

“I don’t know how I'm supposed to do this.”

Aelin was sitting in Elsie’s room, Fenrys and her daughter in there too. She was leaning on the cot watching as her boyfriend sat very still while her daughter applied ‘make-up’ to his face. It was a wooden playset, everything painted and not an ounce of powder or lipstick in sight. But from how seriously Elsie was taking the task it was like it was the highest end make-up kit money could buy. She’d watched Aelin enough to have a decent grasp on what to do, dabbing the brush over the painted eyeshadow palette and sweeping it over Fenrys’ eyelids. He sat perfectly still, a perfect model for the toddler’s needs.

“I suppose—” Fenrys was silenced with a finger to his lips and a harsh shushing sound from Elsie. Aelin laughed, Fenrys was doing a good job of laughing silently without shaking too much, but evidently that wasn’t good enough.

“Stop,” Elsie demanded, putting her hands on his shoulders to try and stop the movement. “Still, Uncle Fen.”

“Sorry, Pumpkin,” he said, his voice shaking a little as he tried to rein himself into the level of seriousness Elsie needed.

She glared reproachfully at him, which made Aelin laugh harder and Fenrys’ lips pulled tighter. Eventually he was able to be still enough for Elsie’s satisfaction.

“Lips now,” Elsie told him and dropped the eyeshadow brush and reached for the red wooden lipstick.

“Ah, just your colour,” Aelin said. “Good choice, my darling.”

The smile that spread across her daughter’s face told everyone in the room that she was very proud of herself. Elsie ran the lipstick over Fenrys’ pouted lips a few times then she stepped back.

“Stay here.” Then she ran out of the room.

“Should we follow or?” Fenrys said, leaning back on his hands.

Aelin shook her head. “I think our instructions were very clear. If she’s gone for too long I’ll go and investigate.”

They were silent for a moment, listening to where Elsie had got to then Fenrys said, “As I was saying before, I suppose you have to find a way to get into contact with them and then go from there.”

Aelin sighed, shifting so she was laying on the floor. Since she had decided to talk to Iris and Evander Whitethorn about their granddaughter she had been faced with one dilemma. It was how.

“You mean I have to go to Rowan first,” Aelin said, feeling the weight of the words and what that would cost her—a decent amount of pride.

“It does seem like the most logical course of action, yes,” Fenrys concluded.

“Mmm, I don’t want to,” Aelin said petulantly. “It’s not fun.”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be fun,” Fenrys said. His words could have been teasing but they weren’t, both his tone and face were as serious as Elsie’s face had been a few minutes ago.

“So I just…” Aelin waved a hand above her flippantly, “just knock on his door?”

“Stalking him is your other option, maybe another chance meeting in the elevator. But the simplest solution is to knock on his door,” Fenrys said matter of factly.

“You’re right,” Aelin’s voice was dejected.

The sound of little feet running sounded and got louder, turning her head Aelin saw Elsie run in with two fistfuls of tissues. Confused, Aelin was about to ask why when Elsie stood in front of her made up model again. She held out a handful of tissues and Fenrys dutifully took them.

“What do I do with these, bud?”

“Like ‘dis.” Elsie took one of the tissues from the fistful she hadn’t handed over to Fenrys and roughly folded it before smacking it between her lips. “Like Mama does.”

Fenrys sent Aelin a questioning look, obviously not fully understanding the demonstration. Aelin rolled onto her stomach and then pushed herself up onto her knees and shuffled over. Fenrys watched her with a bemused smile. She took the tissue from him and showed him how she blotted her lips.

“Oh, oh okay. Gotcha,” Fenrys took back the tissue and did the same.

“All done!” Elsie exclaimed. “You beautiful, Uncle Fen.”

Fenrys caught Elsie, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, you did such a good job.”

When he let her go Elsie grabbed up one of her soft toys and started the make-up process on them, leaving the adults alone for the moment. For a minute Aelin just watched her daughter play, and she could feel the soft smile on her face. Elsie babbled away, some words decipherable and some not. It was just nice to watch these small, adorable moments sometimes. Aelin looked at Fenrys, and he was watching Elsie play as well but she could see a glint of mischief in his eye

“What?” he asked when he felt her gaze on him.

Aelin poked his arm. “You’re planning something.”

“I just want to play, too,” Fenrys explained, the mischief spreading to his mouth where it curled into a very handsome lopsided smile. “It would be a shame for that teddy bear to refuse a makeover. Maybe he’d rather, I don’t know, tackle the make-up artist instead.

“No, Fen. Leave her be, she’s having fun,” Aelin admonished playfully.

“But she could be having more fun,” Fenrys complained, but pulled his girlfriend into his lap—thus preventing him from following through with his plan.

They both went silent, content to just sit and watch for a while. Then Aelin sighed and with her head leaning back on Fenrys’ shoulder she looked up at him.

“So, I’ll knock on his door. Might as well get it over with and do it tonight, huh?”

Fenrys nodded, “Yeah, and considering we don’t actually know how long they’ll be staying.”

Aelin felt her anxiety rise, snuggling in closer to her boyfriend for comfort. “Gods, what must they think of me?”

Fenrys hugged her tighter. “They’re rational people, I’m sure they understand.”

Aelin hoped to the gods her boyfriend was right.

~~~~~

Rowan had barely heard from his parents since he told them about Elspeth. Once he had explained everything to them, his parents had sat there in shock barely noticing when their food arrived. His father took the news better than his mother did. Evander just blinked a few times, then gave a slow nod. On the other hand, Iris Whitethorn was never one to hide her emotions and Rowan saw the hurt, anger and confusion play out across her face.

She had thrown one question at Rowan, and he hadn’t been able to give her an answer. The question had been why he hadn’t said a single thing about any of this to them. Rowan had been here for months and hadn’t said a word to his parents about anything that had happened with Aelin or Elspeth. When they had checked in he’d given his standard reply of being good, just busy with work. He rarely replied anything different, but his parents knew the drill. Their checking in, either way it went was more about touching base. But something like this would have required something more that Rowan wasn’t ready to figure out how to say.

Then his mother had said something else that was still nagging at him. She had looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes and said, You’ve been dealing with this all on your own?

He had, he hadn’t considered doing it another way. Shame and embarrassment had prevented him from saying anything. And also the fact that he had so little to go on. Since arriving he’d only taken minuscule steps towards any kind of reconciliation. Telling his parents that he had a name and a handful of painful interactions was not ideal. He did not want to tell them about how he had been petty and angry and caused even more damage. It was still gut wrenching to remember Elspeth’s devastated face, tears in her eyes as she struggled to understand why a stranger at her door had been yelling at her mother.

After a tense lunch Rowan had dropped parents off at their hotel and heard next to nothing since. He didn’t want to push, it was a lot for them to process. That had been Wednesday and now he was on his way home on Friday evening, leaving on time for the first time in a long while. He didn’t have the drive to keep working.

Rowan parked his car in his spot and just as he was turning his car off a call came through. In the split second just before dash went dark je saw that the call was from his mother and he went scrambling for his phone. It was in his back pocket and just as he was about to swipe to answer the call cut out.

“Shit,” he muttered and unblocked his phone and tapped the number. His free fist clenched as he waited for an answer and it only took two rings for it to go through. “Hi, Mum. I just got home and I was getting out of the car.”

“Hello, Rowan,” his mother replied softly. “Nevermind that, I’m just glad that we could catch you.”

“What’s up?” Rowan asked, cringing at the lame question. He sounded like a teenager again.

“We were wondering if you’d like to go to dinner. I was expecting you to still be at work so we can’t meet you in the city,” Iris said.

“No, no. That’s fine, you can come here,” Rowan said, relieved that his parents were finally reaching out.

There was a pause. “Are sure that’s all right?”

“Absolutely.” Then he realised why his mother might be hesitating. “It should be fine. I’m happy to have you.”

“If you’re sure,” Iris hedged.

Rowan let the eagerness he was feeling come through in his voice. “Yes, come over whenever.”

“We’ll leave soon. Just send us your address.” That had been enough and his mother finally relented.

“Will do, see you soon,” Rowan said.

“Bye, son.”

Rowan sent off his address as soon as he’d hung up and headed for the elevator. There was nothing in his kitchen that would serve three people so he looked up nearby take out places to see what his parents might like. As he was passing Aelin’s door he thought about giving her some warning, letting her know not to leave within the next half hour or so, but he decided against it. The chances of a coincidental run-in would be slim. His parents would arrive around dinner time, so it was likely Aelin would be eating herself or out. The chances would be very slim.

When his parents did arrive about half an hour later it was clear they had arrived without incident. After some stilted discussion they decided on Thai takeout and Rowan put in the order. Then they sat in the living area, tension heavy in the air. Rowan didn’t know what to say here, entirely unsure of how to move forward. It struck him again how stagnant he was. There was nothing more he could offer them.

“We understand why you didn’t tell us, son,” Evander said evenly. He was always the steady calm in their family. “It was just a lot for us to take in.”

Rowan nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” he’d been in the exact situation. “I’m just sorry I can’t offer you more.”

“That’s not your fault,” his mother cut in, her voice tight.

“It is at least just a little,” Rowan said, trying to lighten the situation.

Iris made a non-committal sound but his father at least cracked a little bit of a smile.

“What are your plans? What are you going to do about this?” Iris asked. “Do you get to see her or anything?”

Rowan shook his head. The last agreement that he and Aelin had come to was that he would keep his distance. It was only in the common areas outside the apartments that he ever saw his daughter. The last few times he couldn’t help but interact more than he was probably technically allowed. When Elspeth had run into that elevator he’d been caught between amusement, exasperation and fear. She had been so happy and those giggles had stayed with him. She was such a little light.

“I don’t know,” Rowan admitted quietly. “I just… Aelin is calling the shots. She says we’re doing what’s best for Elspeth. There were a few times things didn’t go great and Elspeth got upset, so what she says goes. I don’t want to hurt her. She’s so,” he stopped when his throat felt too tight and he swallowed. “She’s so little.”

His mother was sitting on the couch, she moved closer to rub a hand on his back. It was the first real comforting gesture he’d had in a long time. Rowan couldn’t find anything else to say, and neither could his parents it seemed. None of them said anything and the quiet was only broken by a knock on the door.

“That should be the food,” Rowan said.

Before he could move, his mother was getting up. “I’ll get it.

Rowan didn’t protest, he was feeling heavy and honestly he didn’t want to move. He was watching a spot on the coffee table trying to gather himself when he heard footsteps coming in—belonging to more than one person. Confused as to why the delivery guy would come into the apartment Rowan looked up. Only to find Aelin there, standing next to his mother.

~~~~~

Aelin left Fenrys and Elspeth eating a bowl of ice-cream, a treat that would keep her daughter entertained and distracted while she left the apartment. It wasn’t that many steps to Rowan’s door but it took Aelin much longer than it should have to get there. Then it nearly took her just as long to raise her fist to the door and knock. She was being ridiculous. This was nothing, all she had to do was ask Rowan for a phone number then she could casually and inconspicuously bolt home. After rapping on it three times it didn’t take long for the door to open. Aelin had instinctually been taking a step back, but then took another when Iris Whitethorn stood there instead of her son.

“Oh,” Aelin breathed. “Hello, Iris.”

“Hello, Aelin.” The tone of her voice made Aelin want to retreat yet another step.

Iris had always been an open book, it was one thing Aelin loved about the woman. But now her emotions were too easy to read and that guilt swelled up inside Aelin. Iris and Evander had never been unkind to her in any way, and she had repaid them for that poorly.

“Can I come in? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Aelin asked.

Iris nodded. “I’m sure that would be fine.” A very subtle reminder of who’s apartment they were walking into.

This was not what Aelin had planned at all. Without another word Iris turned and went inside the apartment. On the too pristine couch and armchair sat Rowan and Evander both looking equally shocked to see her standing there.

“Hello, Evander. How are you?” Aelin said.

“I’m good.” There was no reciprocation of wellness enquiry.

There were a few heavy beats of painfully awkward silence. Aelin bit the bullet, unable to take it anymore. “There’s something I’d like to discuss, I’m sure we all know what it’s about.”

Iris took a seat on the couch, Aelin was unsure what to do so she just kept standing. The three Whitethorns looked at her expectantly. But it was Rowan she made eye contact with. “Alone. Please.”

Gods, Aelin felt like a bitch for doing it—for sending Rowan out of the room in his own apartment, but this was something she did not want to discuss in front of him. If this had gone like she originally planned she would never have gotten this far into the apartment in the first place. Rowan looked like he was about to argue, there was a recognisable flash of anger in his eyes. But he didn’t act on it. He just got up and walked out. Aelin waited until she heard a door close before she faced Iris and Evander.

“I know Rowan told you, he came and asked me if he could. I said yes… Now here we are.” Aelin was babbling, and it was not in the least bit graceful. “Um, so. If you would like to meet Elspeth while you are here we can work something out. I want to work something out. I’d love for you to meet her.”

Aelin looked for Iris’ reaction, and she watched as her face softened, there were still remnants of anger there but there was also compassion.

“What did you have in mind?” Iris asked.

“Tomorrow, if you’re free, we can go to a playground and you can meet Elsie,” Aelin rushed out.

“Elsie?” Iris repeated quietly.

Aelin nodded, she hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip out. It didn’t matter though, it wasn’t something to hide. “Yeah, that’s what I call her.” The awkward silence started to build again and Aelin decided this might be the best time to run. “I was thinking maybe around ten? That’s really the best time of day for her. She’s fed and she’s happy and it’s well before nap time.”

Evander looked at his wife and she was nodding. “You just let us know where and we’ll be there.”

“It’s the one just around the corner,” Aelin said, but when they looked at her a little blankly she realised her mistake. “If I can get a number I’ll text it to you.”

It was Evander who reached into his pocket and handed over a phone. Aelin quickly typed her number in and saved it before handing it back. “Just send me a message so I have it and then I can let you know if we’re running late or the weather is bad or whatever. Then we can meet some place else.”

“Will do, Aelin,” Evander said kindly as he took back the phone.

“Okay, yeah. Well, I’ll go and see you tomorrow.” Aelin gave them a weak smile, she was more than ready to leave

“See you then,” Iris said.

With a final nod that really sealed in the awkwardness of the encounter Aelin turned on her heels and left, only letting out a heavy breath once she was outside the door and shaking her limbs out for good measure. Then she was walking, physically stopping herself from running. She didn’t stop moving until she was in the safety of her own apartment.

By now the ice-cream was finished and Elsie was watching cartoons on the TV, tucked under a blanket and hugging her doll. Fenrys was in the kitchen, tidying up, but he dropped what he was doing when he noticed that Aelin had walked in.

“How’d it go?”

Aelin went to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. Fenrys reciprocated, holding her tightly with one arm and tilting her head up with his hand.

“Hey, what happened?” He asked, eyes darting over her face.

“They were there,” Aelin said. “I went to ask Rowan for a number to contact them but his parents were there. So, I just asked them right then. They said yes, they want to meet her.

Aelin was trembling a little, to try and hide it she went back to gripping her boyfriend a little tighter and using his t-shirt to block out the light.

Fenrys wrapped both arms around her now and kissed her head not once, but twice. “That was a really brave thing you did. And it was the right thing to do.”

For the second time that day, Aelin hoped he was right.

~~~~~

It’s been a hot minute since I posted so I’m a little nervous about this one *nervous laughter*.....

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer// @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @1islessthan3books // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @firestarsandseneschals // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems // @empress-ofbloodshed // @queenophelia // @petrichara // @grandma-noob-lord // @silentquartz // @curlyredqueen06 // @littleboxofthunder // @sjmships // @sanakapoor // @keshavomit // @magicalunicorngypsy // @wanderingjpg // @wordsafterhours // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @yesdreamblog // @motherofdragons155 // @elriel4life // @aelin-is-my-heart // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @crystalfireandblazingice // @court-of-glass // @larisssss // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @mu-si-ca-l // @hsilberfarb // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starbornvalkyrie // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @emilyoftheshadows // @heirofthrnightcourt004 // @azymondias05 // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @rabodocardan // @acciowests // @danibutterr // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @mis-lil-red // @midnightdreamersthings // @swankii-art-teacher // @rowaelinismyotp // @pullnpeeltwizzlers // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction // @gracie-rosee // @rowaelinrambling // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis // @vanzetanze // @thegreyj // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream // @anidealiveson // @magnifique1807 // @charlizeed // @highlady-brittney // @story-scribbler // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren // @ghostlyrose2 // @themoonthestarsthesuriel // @feysand-loml // @backtobl4ck // @live-the-fangirl-life // @whimsicallyreading // @goddess-aelin // @khildreth //

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palfriendpatine66 · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday: Pining for Life edition

As you may have gathered from my poll my thoughts have been turning back to the PiP family lately. Not that I ever truly stopped thinking up ideas for them, but I've had some serious writer's block after writing the last chapter of the series and it's been a major struggle for me to get back to it. I'm going to make an effort to do some updates for them soon. my current plans include -Water park vacation -Family Day -missing Padme -Helicopter Dad(s) - Obi-Wan's turn this time - some hurt/comfort about Obi-Wan aging

Have any other ideas you'd love to see? let me know. Continue reading for a snippet from the water park vacation

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Anakin strides out of the bathroom dressed in the tightest pair of shorts Obi-Wan has ever seen, apart from the yoga shorts incident. But the twins are changing into their bathing suits just around the corner - they’re all preparing to leave their hotel room momentarily for a day at the water park - so that can’t be what is happening right now. He’s just not sure what is.

“What?” Anakin asks innocently as he counts up towels and packs them into a bag.

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes in suspicion. “You’re going like that?”

“Mmhm,” Anakin doesn’t give the question his full attention. “Have you seen my water shoes anywhere? I’ve only got yours in here.”

Obi-Wan spots the shoes and retrieves them from where they’ve migrated - one under the radiator and one on top of the microwave for some reason that he doesn’t bother to question - and hands them over. “Those shorts,” he clarifies. “That’s what you’re wearing today?”

“Yes.” Anakin looks down at his tight bike shorts with enough concern that Obi-Wan believes it isn’t an act. “Why?”

“Because,” Obi-Wan sighs in consternation as Luke emerges in Leia’s swim trunks, his own worn on his head. Obi-Wan takes them off and tosses them back into the kids’ room, pointing wordlessly at Luke, who sticks out his tongue as he retreats. “That hardly seems like an outfit appropriate for a family water park.”

Anakin stares at him blankly. “You want me to put a shirt on?”

“No!” Obi-Wan exclaims. “Actually, maybe, yes.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in a bid for patience. “I was talking about your shorts. Why are you advertising your assets on a family outing? Do you really need to -”

“I’m going to stop you right there before you say something we both regret,” Anakin straightens up and slings the bag he’s packed over his shirtless back. Obi-Wan’s eyes follow his fingers as they run down the straps and he thinks that insisting on that shirt might be a good idea after all. “I’m not advertising my assets, you prude. I am making sure I don’t show the entire wave pool my ass-ets.” He smirks. “Or other things best kept behind closed doors.”

“You are leaving very little up to the imagination,” Obi-Wan eyes the swell of his ass appreciatively.

“Uh huh. Maybe you’re the one that needs to focus on keeping it family friendly,” Anakin saunters over and loops his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck.

#wip wednesday #pining for life

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chaoskiro · 8 months

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Summer podfic wrap-up

We are now well into September and over this summer I have diverted some of my podfic attention away from my podfic of Vertical Limit to make some podfics for various fests and to try some different things out, and here is what I ended up making this summer (sorted by when I made them):

Beard Burn (12 minutes) a multivoice Check Please! podfic based on FightMeImSmall's amazing story. Featuring a very heated discussion on the SMH bus leading to Dex coming out to the team.

This is a project I have wanted to do for ages, but I really wanted to make it multivoice so I hesitated. I ended up just asking if anyone was interested in participating on a podficcing discord server and so many people joined!! I will be forever grateful to all the people who read lines for this and I was blown away by their performances every time I got a new person's lines sent to me. It was my second ever podfic after Vertical Limit and since this is a very different tone I actually ended up having to record the narration twice, because my first run sounded way too somber for this very fun and a little bit silly fic.

shall i compare thee to a summer's day? (22 minutes) another Check Please! podfic based on dairaliz' (@schitthappens) sweet story. Featuring a very pining Dex on a farmer's market with an equally pining Nursey to match.

This one was made for the Madisonandmore ficfest and it was my first try at adding intro and outro music to fic, something I will definitely do again, but also something I would like to get better at. It was also the first ficfest I participated in which led to me having a bunch of technical issues which were thankfully resolved along the way.

The Way My Heart Bleeds (54 minutes) a Batman podfic of egg_thief's (@thief-of-eggs) story, made for DevilWithABirdDress as part of Summer podfic swap. Featuring Damian as Robin who gets hurt on patrol and gets patched up by Dick.

I looked through a lot of Damian & Dick centered stories before I landed on making this one (I actually got permission to podfic another one as well, which I might just do someday), but this one just hit the spot: It is just the most perfect Hurt/Comfort and I really love reading Damian (Though he always ends up sounding vaguely British, which I can't really explain). It also features some very important headcanons on the batfam's opinions on the Barbie movies, which is always a bonus.

Pay Attention to Me (33 minutes) an A3! podfic of Dokuhan's story, made as part of pod_together. Featuring Chikage who ISN'T jealous when Sakuya and Tasuku start spending more time together (and definitely doesn't have a crush on Sakuya).

This one was a fun one as it was made for pod_together and I thus worked with Dokuhan on this one. It was very fun getting some sparring on my readings of things and thus get some insight on the thought behind different lines. I often, when podficcing, sit and argue with myself on how to read a certain line/what emotion to convey with it etc. and to be able to discuss that with the one who wrote it was very fun.

All in all I am very happy to have expanded my podficcing scope this summer and I currently have two projects I have recorded stuff for on my computer that aren't published (one of them I started in may or something, but am currently still a little scared of, and the other is what I'm focused on at the moment), aside from Vertical Limit of course which I am still steadily working on and will probably have another chapter out soon because I am literally only missing like 30 minutes of editing time which isn't that much compared to the time it takes to make these.

It has been so fun making these and I hope they brought some other people joy as well!!

#I haven't ever done a proper wrap-up like this so I'm trying something new now as well #podkiro #<- the tag to look at if you want to see me talk more about podficcing #it is mostly weirdass bloopers of my mouth refusing to pronounce very normal words #and I think maybe some commentary on my inability to control how british I sound #kirokiro

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adarkrainbow · 11 months

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The Grimm fairytales: The German Bluebeard

Just like with my Little Red Riding Hood post, I will now look at the German versions of the Blue Beard fairytale, as collected by the Grimm brothers. Wait, you ask, there’s a German Bluebeard? Yes! There’s even three of them!

But the reason you might not remember them is because these German versions were only present in the first edition of the Grimm’s collection of märchen. You see, the thing is that “Bluebeard” is a typically French fairytale, not originally belonging to Germany - and the tale itself has been heavly influenced and shaped by Charles Perrault. So when the Grimm brothers noticed that some of their tales were derived from the French Blue Beard, they removed them prompto. They wanted exclusively German fairytales, and they also exclusively wanted “true” folktales - anything with literary roots was not welcome in the Grimm’s book (though the irony is that there were many literary roots the Grimm completely missed).

Now, of the three “Bluebeard variants”, only two were removed, the ones I will describe below: “Blue-beard” and “The Castle of Murders/ The Murder Castle”. The third one was kept - it is the famous “Fitcher’s Bird” fairytale, that the Grimms kept because they perceived in it some specifically German elements. I will not talk of Fitcher’s Bird, I’ll rather keep it for a different time when I’ll look at the Grimm fairytales themselves. (For a deeper analysis of these versions VS Perrault’s, wait for more of my “A class on fairytales” post, since the “Bluebeard case” was the one we studied when it came to the evolution of fairytales between Perrault and Grimm)

Blue-Beard (The German version)

A man lived in the woods with three sons and a beautiful daughter. One day, a golden carriage with six horses and numerous domestics stopped by the house. A king was in it, and asked the woodsman for his daughter in marriage. The father agreed - and while the girl was afraid because the king had a blue beard, her father told her to still go with the man. However, since she was still worried about the situation, she went to her brothers and told them “If you hear me scream, wherever you are, drop what you are doing and come rescue me”.

The girl left with Blue-Beard and they arrived to his castle, filled with luxury items and where the girl’s every desires were fulfilld. She could have been very happy - but each time she saw the blue beard of the king, fright took over her. After some times the king have to leave on a journey: he gave the girl the keys that opened all the doors of his castle, and he told them she could open all of them - except one room, opened by a small gold key. The king tells her pretty bluntly that if she opens the door, she will “lose her life”. The girl promised to obey, and as soon as the king was out, she opened all the doors, seeing beyond them marvelous riches. When she reached the forbidden door, the girl deduced that, since the key was made of gold, the room must be hiding the most precious treasures of the castle - she became tormented by curiosity, she fought it to no avail, and she finally opened the door. But as soon as she opened it, a flood of blood came out (yeah, that’s the elevator scene in Shining), and she saw in the room numerous dead women attached to the walls, some reduced to the state of skeletons.

Scared, she closed the door, but the key dropped on the blood-covered floor. The girl tried to clean the key, but each spot she removed from one side of the key re-appeared on the other. She used all the cleaning methods she could think of, but each failed, so she hid it in hay in hope it would absorb the blood. The following morning Blue-beard came home, and he asked for the keys. The girl gave him back all of the keys, except the small golden key. She tried to tell her husband she lost the key in hay, but he understood what happened (that she was trying to use the hay to clean the blood), forced her to fetch the blood-stained key, and immediately he told her she will die and go to the forbidden room. He fetched a great knife, but the wife managed to gain some times by asking to do a prayer before dying.

The girl immediately climbed the staircase, and screamed as strongly as she could from a window “Brothers, dear brothers, come save me!”. Her brothers, who were drinking wine in the forest, heard their sister, took their horses and arrived. The girl, terrified, fell on her knee, hearing Blue-beard sharpen his knife from below. As she saw a cloud of dust arriving she screamed again “Brothers,dear brothers, come save me!”. And Blue-beard called her from below, telling her to come down since his knife was sharpened. But she saw by the window her brothers crossing the fields surrounding the castle, so she called them one more time, and she heard back the voice of her younger brother “Be happy, dear sister! We will be here ina moment!”.

Meanwhile Blue-beard, tired of waiting, decided to climb up the staircase to fetch his wife He took her by the hair and got ready to stab her in the heart, when the three brothers busted open the door of the castle, and with their sabers killed Blue-bear. They then hanged his corpse in the forbidden room, where the murderer joined his victims. The brothers then returned home with their sisters, and all the riches of Blue-beard were hers.

The Murder Castle (or the Castle of Murders depending on how you translate it)

Once upon a time, there was a shoemaker who ahd three daughters. One day, the shoemaker met a well-dressed man who had a somptuous carriage. He looked very wealthy, and he had fallen in love with one of the daughters of the shoe-maker. The girl, who was happy to have found a rich husband, quickly left with him. As they were on the road, as the night was falling, the well-dressed gentleman asks her in a rhyme “The moon is so clear, my horses are so fast, my beloved, do you regret nothing?”. The girl answered, “No, why I should I regret anything? I will always be safe with you.” But as she said that, a great terror appeared in her heart. They reached the man’s castle, in a great forest, and everything inside it was beautiful.

The following day, the gentleman said he had to leave for a few days due to important business. He gave her all the keys of the castle, so she could admire all her new belongings. She quickly explored the castle, and was happy with how beautiful everything was... Until she reached a basement, where an old woman was scrapping viscera off the floor. “What are you doing here, old woman?” “I am scrapping guts, my child. And tomorrow, I will be scrapping yours!”. The girl was so afraid she dropped the key she was holding, which fell in a container filled with blood. The old woman then said “Now your death is certain, because my master will see that you went into the room where nobody is allowed to enter, except me and my master.”

[Note that when the man gave his wife the keys, he did not gave her any instructions that she cannot go in this room, this is the first time we hear of this. “The Castle of Murders” has been written in a very oral style, which also means a choppy, slightly incoherent narrative style - for example, right after this sentence of the old woman, we have an aside by the narrator that explains “It must be known that the two older sisters of the girl died in the very same way”. What? We just learn that suddenly, out of nowhere, it just comes like “Oh by the way, there’s a whole other story with the girl’s sister we didn’t tell you before, and that bears no impact on the story, but we’ll just say it here).

As a cart of hay was about to leave the castle, the old woman told the girl her only way to survive was to hide under the hay and escape the castle through the cart. The girl did it - and when the lord came home and asked where his bride was, the old woman told him “Since I didn’t have anything else to do, and since she would have been killed tomorrow, I already killed her. Here is a lock of her hair, here is her heart, and here is a bit of her blood still warm. The rest was devoured by the dogs, and now I scrap the guts.” The lord was happy to learn she was dead.

But meanwhile, the young girl in the hay cart arrived at a nearby castle, where the hay had to be sold. She escaped the cart, she told her story to the occupants of the castle, and she was allowed to live there. Some time afterwards, the lord of this castle organized a grand feast where he invited all the nobles of the area. The girl had her face and her dress changed in such a way she couldn’t be recognized - because the “lord of the castle of murders” had been invited. When everybody as gathered, every guest had to tell a story. When it came to the young girl’s turn, she told the story described above. While she told her tale, her husband (who was a count/earl apparently) was so afraid he tried to escape - but the good lord of the castle had prepared everything, and the forces of justice cpatured the beautiful gentleman. The tribunal imprisoned the murderer, had his castle destroyed, and gave all of his riches to the young girl. She then married the son of the benevolent lord that had rescued her, and she lived for many years with him.

The end.

#brothers grimm #grimm fairytales #blue beard #bluebeard #the murder castle #german fairytales

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