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awkwardauthorwrites · 1 year

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Wildest Dreams - Part Two

Word Count: 4.1k

Themes: fluff, pining, tension

Summary: Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate.

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 25/26 years old

Find Part One here

Sebastian apparted them to a quiet hillside with a beautiful, large cottage resting at the top. Although it was dark out, the faint light coming from the full moon allowed Y/N to see the intricate stonework of the L-shaped house and the garden that lay outside that was obviously well taken care of. She couldn’t see it, but she could hear the gentle swell of the ocean and smell the salt in the air.

“Where are we?”

“Ominis and Anne’s house.” He turned to hold his hand out for hers before guiding them forward slowly. “I moved in so I could help Anne with her pregnancy and the first few months with the baby. They live in that section of the house, but they’re hopefully fast asleep.”

“Trying to sneak me in like a late night conquest?”

“First, you would never be a conquest to me.” The look Sebastian sent her sent a flash of heat through Y/N’s body that warmed her all the way to her toes. “Second, is it that bad I want you to myself for a while before my sister steals you from me?”

“Ah yes, the infamous Sallow charm,” she gave him a teasing smile as he led her inside, a hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the dark interior and into the kitchen. With a slight wave of his hand the lamps that were dotted around the room came to life, revealing a figure sitting at the table.

“Fuck - Ominis!” Sebastian glared at his brother-in-law. “What have I told you about sitting around in the dark?”

“Is it dark?” Ominis tilted his head to the side. “I couldn’t tell.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his words despite her heart still racing and he turned his head in her direction curiously. “Y/N? Is that you?” He stood up and made his way over to them, one hand skirting along the table to help him navigate.

“It’s good to see you again, Ominis.” Y/N pulled him into a tight hug before releasing him and taking a step back so she stood next to Sebastian again.

“I’d say the same but…” He chucked at his own poor joke and held his hands out to her, a silent request to trace her features. Y/N took his hands and placed them on her face, her eyes slipping closed as his fingers moved over the scar on her temple. “Still starting fights?”

“Does it really matter who started it as long as I finish them?”

“No, I suppose not.” Ominis released her face and took a small step back. “Why are you back so early?”

“It got boring,” Sebastian shrugged and leant against the kitchen wall, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

“So you decided to steal the guest of honour as you left?”

“I’ve got to be a bad influence on her somehow for old times sake.”

“Hm.” Ominis didn’t exactly sound pleased, but Y/N could see the smile on his face. “I’m going to head to bed. I assume you’ll be spending the night, so I’ll see you at breakfast, Y/N.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Ominis offered her a wry smile before making his way up the staircase located in the back corner of the kitchen. Y/N heard a soft click as a door closed and Sebastian came to stand behind her.

“Do you want to get out of this dress?” Y/N turned to look up at him with raised eyebrows and watched his face turn red. “I didn’t - I mean, I wouldn’t mind but that’s not…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What I meant was, do you want me to lend you something to wear?”

“Yes, please.” Sebastian stopped to grab a bottle of firewhiskey from the cupboard, as well as two glasses, before leading her out of the kitchen and to the right, through what Y/N assumed was the living room. There was another staircase on this side of the house and Sebastian ushered her up and pointed her in the direction of his room. Y/N closed the door behind them as he walked over to his dresser and set their drinks down before rummaging through one of the drawers.

“I can’t give you anything of Anne’s without waking her up, is this alright?” Sebastian pulled out a long sleeved shirt and some pyjama bottoms for her.

“Only if you help me out of this dress,” Y/N watched as Sebastian visibly gulped and his face and neck turned a brilliant shade of red. She turned her back to him and brushed her hair out of the way to show him the small buttons that ran up the back of the dress. “Please?”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Save the theatrics for when I’m in your clothes.”

“Darling,” Sebastian groaned, his hands coming to rest on her waist from behind. “When I asked you to flirt with me I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“Like what?” Y/N brought her hands up to hold the bodice of her dress in place as Sebastian began to undo her buttons, his fingers brushing against every inch of exposed skin in a way that set Y/N’s nerves on fire.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

“I did warn you,” Y/N laughed quietly as she felt him undo the last of the buttons.

“You did,” he agreed, voice low as he trailed a finger down her spine softly. “Is it later?”

“Give a girl the chance to get dressed first, Sallow.”

“Oh right. Yes. I’ll - hallway?” Sebastian stammered, one finger pointing at the door behind them. Y/N bit her lower lip to hold back a smile as she took in how flustered he was. It was a rare sight (in fact, she didn’t think she had ever seen it before) and it brought a sense of gratification knowing she was the one who had turned the charming man into a stuttering mess.

“Just turn around.” Sebastian nodded once before turning his back to her, resting his head on the wall gently. Y/N quickly shed the dress and pulled on Sebastian’s clothes, pulling a face as she tried to hitch the pants up as far as she could. “I feel like a child playing dress up.” Sebastian chuckled and turned back around to face her, his eyes darkening as they roamed over her. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look ravishing.”

“Oh shush,” Y/N turned her back to him so he couldn’t see her blush and poured out two drinks for them while he quickly changed as well. She picked the pins out of her hair while she waited for him and took a sip of the firewhiskey to steady her hands as she listened to him shuffle out of his clothing. She didn’t dare move until he came to stand behind her, his hand resting on her waist gently as he leant over to grab his glass. Y/N grabbed the bottle and her own glass before taking a seat on the bed and crossing her legs so she could face him.

“To us,” Sebastian toasted.

“To later,” Y/N clicked her glass against his and took another sip of the drink. The liquid burned the back of her throat, but warmed the rest of her body and gave her the surge of confidence she needed. “You said earlier you always wanted to kiss me. How long have you felt that way?”

“Since fifth year.”

“Sebastian, that was ten years ago!”

“What can I say? I’ve always known what I wanted.” The look he gave her offered more heat than the drink and Y/N found herself drinking a little more to calm her nerves.

“Am I just a want to you?”

“No. Definitely not.” He brushed some hair from her eyes. “You are everything to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“How long have you felt the same?”

“Since fifth year,” Y/N murmured shyly. She had assumed all of the under-the-radar flirting he had done back in school was just a part of his charm and that he was the same with all the other girls, but that hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him all the time. It had only gotten worse the more time she spent with him and she started to realise that not only was he charming to a fault, but he was also kind and smart and funny and flawed.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Touché.” They sat in a comfortable silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. “I wouldn’t mind either, by the way.”

“Mind what?” he asked. Y/N gave him a look and waited for the sickle to drop. It took him a moment to recall the words he had said in the kitchen, how he wouldn’t mind getting her out of her dress in a less than pure sense. “Oh. Oh.” He tilted her chin up gently, his fingers brushing along her jaw in a way that made it feel like every inch of her was on fire. “While I would love nothing more, we have all the time in the world for that later, darling. Plus, it would probably be better to wait until we don’t have to be quiet because my sister and best friend are sleeping a few doors down.”

“Silencing charms were invented for a reason.”

“And you call me the rake.” He took her empty glass and set it on the bedside table next to his, turning back around just in time to catch her stifling a yawn. “Oh I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Y/N nudged him and looked like she was about to snap back at him but instead let out another yawn before groaning dramatically and flopping onto the bed so she was laying down. Sebastian brushed some hair from her forehead, his fingers lingering on the mark on her temple gently. “Do you want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No, stay. Please?” The look on her face melted his heart and he couldn’t find it in him to say no. Instead he lay down himself and covered them both with the blanket before rolling over to face Y/N and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.

“Get some sleep, darling. I’m right here.”

*~*~*~*~*

Sebastian woke up to the sunlight streaming in through a small gap in his curtains and looked down at Y/N, who was still fast asleep beside him. At some point in the night she had curled up to his side, her head nearly resting on his shoulder as she slept peacefully. He gently brushed some hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek for longer than necessary. He watched as she began to stir and her eyes fluttered open to look at him.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Y/N smiled shyly and Sebastian was delighted to notice a faint flush on her face. He brushed her cheek gently, a teasing smirk on his face as her blush deepened.

“I could get used to this,” Sebastian trailed his fingers up her jaw slowly, moving round to the back of her neck before lightly running down her back.

“Get used to what?”

“Waking up beside you.” He rested his hand on her lower back and gently pulled her closer. Y/N buried her face into the pillow and pulled the blanket up to cover her face. “Where have you gone?” he laughed, trying to tug the duvet away from her.

“It’s too early for you to be this charming.”

“I’m always charming.” He succeeded in getting the blanket away from her and was rewarded by her demure smile. “You, on the other hand, could do with being a lot less gorgeous first thing in the morning. How is that fair?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his response, her hand hesitantly trailing over his bicep. She watched his throat bob as she lightly traced her way over his collarbone and came to rest over his thundering heart.

“Nervous?” she asked innocently, a coy smile playing on the edge of her mouth. “Pretty woman in your bed, and all that?”

“Darling,” his voice was considerably lower and he reluctantly removed his hand from her back to hold hers against his chest. “I thought we cleared up last night that you’re the only woman I want in my bed.”

“All you said was you wanted to kiss me since fifth year.”

“I’m pretty sure I followed that with telling you that you mean everything to me.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully and tugged her closer, her body pressed against his in a way that set every nerve ending on edge. “Were you not listening to me?”

“My mind was occupied.”

“With what?” he asked. Her answering grin and raised eyebrow was nothing short of wicked and Sebastian felt his heart stutter in his chest. Y/N laughed quietly and wound her hand up his chest to play with the hair on the back of his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’d say I’m sorry but - ”

“Sebastian, are you awake?” There was a gentle knock on his door. Y/N froze, her eyes going wide as Sebastian groaned quietly, his eyes sliding shut.

“I’m up, Anne. I’ll be out in a moment.” His forehead came to rest on her shoulder and she could hear him mutter about his sister’s poor timing.

“I’m about to do the washing, do you need anything cleaned?” Anne tried to open his door. “Why is your door locked?” Sebastian rolled out of bed, moving faster than Y/N had seen him before, waving his wand to unlock the door.

“Must have just been stuck,” he opened the door to greet his sister, his frame blocking her view of the room, and more importantly her still in his bed. “Nothing needs cleaning, I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Why are you being strange?”

“I’ve not long woken up, Anne, give me a break.”

“Is there someone in your room, Sebastian?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Morning everyone.” Y/N felt herself physically cringe as Ominis joined the twins in the hallway. “Is everything alright?”

“Sebastian has someone in his room.”

“Anne,” he groaned and lightly banged his head on the doorframe, “no I don’t.” Y/N didn’t need to be able to see through doors to know Ominis was tilting his head to the side.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Morning,” she grimaced and climbed out of the bed to stand by Sebastian, attempting to tame her hair as she did so. Anne looked surprised to see her and although Ominis was looking slightly to her right, she could still see the smirk on his features that was meant for her. “It’s good to see you both again.”

“A bit presumptuous, was I?” Ominis chuckled and placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “Come, my love, Sebastian can show Y/N where she can freshen up for breakfast before we accost them.” He pulled her back down the hall gently, shooting a glance at the pair before they both went down the stairs.

“Well,” Sebastian let out a breath. “There goes my plan to pretend I asked you round for breakfast this morning.” His face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No harm, no foul. Although, I feel like Anne is currently assuming the worst of me.”

“She would never.” Sebastian’s voice was full of conviction, as if it was a ridiculous notion that Anne would ever think of her poorly. “By the time we make it downstairs she’ll be over the shock and will probably be telling me I told you so over breakfast.” He led her down the hall, showing her where she could freshen up before shutting the door quietly behind her. Y/N moved as quick as she could, splashing water on her face to remove the traces of makeup she had forgotten to remove the night before and tying her hair in a simple braid. She made her way back to Sebastian’s room when she was done and walked in without knocking, her eyes going wide at the sight in front of her.

“Sorry!” Y/N’s face burned as she turned around and pressed her forehead to the cool wall as she covered her eyes. Sebastian laughed from behind her and stepped close, his finger running down her spine gently before he turned her back around.

“All of those flirtatious remarks last night and you go the colour of a Gryffindor’s robes when you see me without a shirt on?” Sebastian teased, grasping her chin gently so he could angle her face towards his. “You’ve seen me like this before.” Y/N couldn’t help but look back down at his bare torso, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging from his shoulders. The fluttering in her stomach that seemed to appear whenever Sebastian was around had turned into a full-fledged swarm as a kaleidoscope of butterflies ran amok within her.

“No I haven’t.” She made herself look back up and above his head so she wouldn’t have to see the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Yes you have,” Sebastian chuckled and tried to meet her eyes again. “Or do you not remember the day I saved your life in the lake?” The confidence he exuded with the sentence made Y/N eyes snap back to his, a glare on her features as she flicked him in the arm.

“I think we remember that day very differently, considering I wouldn’t have needed saving if you had just trusted me.”

“You were swimming into a whirlpool in the middle of the lake, you’re lucky you didn’t drown.”

“There was a cave there! If anything, what nearly made me drown was some buffoon clinging onto me as we both went under.”

“This buffoon pulled you out into said cave.”

“And right into a spider den,” Y/N laughed as he shuddered at the memory and belatedly noticed that her hand was on Sebastian’s chest, her fingers tracing over a raised mark on his right pectoral. “What’s this?”

“Oh,” Sebastian chuckled nervously and placed his hand over hers, hiding the mark from view. “You’re going to laugh.”

“Probably.” She swatted his hand away and stood a little closer, her finger moving along the curved line slowly. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” he sighed in defeat and gave her a sheepish smile. “Ominis and I thought it would be fun to try and give each other tattoos when we turned eighteen after leaving school. You can probably tell we didn’t do a very good job of it.” That was the understatement of the year. The mark held no ink, and if anything, it looked more like an old faded scar than a tattoo. Y/N tilted her head as she traced the shape again, a sly smile on her face.

“So you both decided that out of all the things you wanted permanently etched to your skin you wanted the snake from the Slytherin crest?” Her lip twitched as Sebastian nodded bashfully and she repressed the urge to laugh.

“Does Ominis have a matching one?”

“His took a little better because of his pale skin - the prick - but yes, he does. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

“What did Anne have to say about this?”

“Oh, she was furious. Kept telling us how only criminals and people in the circus marked themselves like this.” Y/N finally let the laughter bubble out as she imagined Anne reprimanding the pair and they both more than likely stood there and took it like scolded school boys. Sebastian’s features softened at her laugh, his heartbeat picking up speed as Y/N began to subconsciously trace shapes between the freckles that covered his chest.

“You know, I’ve always wondered how far that blush goes,” Y/N commented innocently, her finger winding its way down his chest slowly. Sebastian gulped as she came to a stop at the bottom of his sternum and gave him a demure smile. “I didn’t think it would be here.”

“Where did you think it would stop?”

“I’ve always pictured you with a full-body blush.”

“You’ve pictured me?”

“Mhm.” The light movement of her fingers on his bare skin burned as she slowly trailed between each freckle on his chest. He knew she could feel how embarrassingly fast his heart was beating in his chest but he didn’t care. He was enamoured by her and he didn’t care who knew it. He brought a hand up to rest on the back of her neck, gently pulling her forward until there was little space left between them as he tangled his fingers through her hair. “Seb?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?”

“Would you like it if I did?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” He laughed as she rolled her eyes at him and wound an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Y/N cocked her head to the side, remembering that smile on his face from their fifth year. More often than not it meant trouble, but sometimes, like right now, he paired it with the same look on his face that he had right now. One that was almost soft.

“Use your words, darling. What do you want?” He brushed his thumb across her lower lip as he leant towards her, his forehead resting on hers. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and tried to close the gap between them to kiss him, but Sebastian pulled back fractionally, amusement sparkling in his eye as her frown deepened and a gorgeous pout fell on her lips. “Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?”

“Apart from earlier when you had me in your bed?”

“I believe the word I used then was gorgeous.”

“Well, if you want to be pedantic about it. Not since last night.”

“You did look beautiful last night,” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, his nose bumping hers softly, “I think this version of you is my favourite, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, first thing in the morning. Barely awake and tucked to my side…” Y/N brought both of her hands up to rest on his chest as Sebastian’s grip tightened on her waist, her fingers brushing his collarbone delicately. “I meant what I said earlier. I could get used to waking up beside you. Every day.”

“For how long?”

“For the rest of our lives.” Y/N’s breathing stilled at his words, at the raw emotion and sincerity on his face as he spoke. She felt the back of her eyes burn and tried to look away but he held her in place and kissed her cheek gently. “Do you know what you do to me? How completely and hopelessly you enrapture me? You’re bewitching.”

“Was that a pun?”

“Shall I use a different word?” he murmured. His thumb stroked her cheeks gently, her skin burning in its path. “You’re exquisite, flawless, downright ethereal.”

“Seb…”

“From that very first day you smiled at me, you had me. I fell for you harder and faster than anyone I’ve ever met before. My heart was yours before I knew nothing more than your name.”

“My heart is yours too, you walnut. It’s only ever been yours. From the very first moment.”

“I adore you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

He finally closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers so gently that Y/N thought her heart would burst out of her chest. She wound her hands up and into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as she kissed him back and he nipped at her lower lip. His grip on her waist tightened pleasantly, holding her body against his so every inch of them was touching, and Sebastian swore he had died when she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and ran her fingers down his back. They broke away as Ominis called for them from downstairs, both of their faces tinged pink as they took in each other’s swollen lips and tousled hair. Sebastian leant back in to press one more sweet, toe-curling kiss on her lips.

“I’m going to marry you one day,” he muttered against her lips, his mouth curling into a smile as he heard her breath hitch.

“I’ll be the one in white.”

Epilogue

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x fem!reader #hogwarts game #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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significant-narratives · 1 month

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this fandom needs to dig in to the implications of the 1688 dynamic… they’re two hot girls making out at the bar. they’re frenemies. they’re two sides of the same coin. they’d die for each other. their draft scouting reports were both hauntingly similar and worlds apart. they both understand the weight of a legacy. one is playing a deliberate smoke and mirrors game the other is all heart all the time. eldest brother from a big family vs the youngest of two sons. holding out for a new contract for months. pay me like matthews. confusing and complex relationships with their fathers. silent playoffs point leader vs “he’s a big time guy. made for the spotlight.” also like hey quick question if you’re over me why is your new girl my narrative foil. are we seeing this? hello?

#let’s! talk! about it!#see the thing is 1688 is very sapphic friendship coded i know i’ve been there #sorry idk what this is i listened to ms olivia’s ‘obsessed’ and well. well!#1688 #william nylander #mitch marner

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itsgameofthronesimagines · 1 year

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Could I request a Cersei x f reader where the reader is Cersei’s secret lover but Jaime (Love him but needed a villain) found out and made up lies about reader so Cersei herself throws the reader to jail. When she’s finally freed after the allegations were proved wrong, reader is now cold hearted, avoiding Cersei who tries to talk to her. Go heavy on the angst. You can decide if it’s happy ending (at least as happy of an ending as you can get with Cersei) or not. Thank you! You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to

(Gif not mine but can I just say that I hate myself for loving how beautiful she is?)

Title: Lioness Roar

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Cersei Lannister x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,719

Summary: Cersei’s brothers could do whatever they wanted with little to no consequences all because of their gender. Now as the Queen, Cersei believes she can do more.

Warnings: vulgar language, daddy issues (guess who), homophobia, angst, mentioned wlw smut, and I will admit it does kind of read like yandere.

Author’s Note: God I love writing about Lannisters. They’re so complex (and I know I’ve said that before so sorry if you’re sick of hearing it but I’m not sorry for saying it) and I think this might be the first time I’m writing a Cersei x reader so this was exciting!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

~~~~~~~~~

Cersei always believed that if she were born with a cock, her world would be a lot different, but for the best.

As a child, she drew pictures of herself on the back of the dragon, and as she got older, her father kept promising to marry her to the prince, so then she began drawing Rhaegar Targaryen in those same pictures.

Before she grew into her female qualities, she was able to dress as her twin brother and attend sword fighting lessons without anyone able to tell the difference.

While Jaime had no interest in listening to his father about the importance of their history, their finances, and the running of the keep, Cersei listened intently. She knew that if she were Tywin’s firstborn son and heir, he’d be proud of all of her accomplishments, and this was just one of many ways she tried to gain his approval.

She did all these things to prove that she can do anything her brothers did possibly even do more than Tyrion but Lord Tywin always stamped down her ambitions other than the one that involved her getting married to the prince. No matter how hard she tried, Cersei could never get her father to actually see her aside from what she already was.

One look and Lord Tywin would’ve seen his daughter holding a sword better than Jaime ever could and reciting old text better than Tyrion could ever pronounce. If Tywin could only see past her gender, Cersei would truly be his golden child.

Alas, she was nothing but a bargaining chip; a pawn he liked to move around the board. When her marriage proposal to Rhaegar fell through and all the Targaryens were killed off, Cersei was married to Robert Baratheon and she became his Queen Consort. She gave him three children, despite the two of them being unhappy from the start. Even if her children didn’t look like the King, she didn’t care. She did her duty to the realm, to her husband, and to her father, securing the legacy Tywin always wanted for his family. Cersei did her part and now she felt inclined to her own right of freedom to do whatever she wanted.

That freedom came in the form of Lady Y/n.

As a wedding gift, Lord Tywin sent Cersei the daughter of one of his bannermen to act as her handmaid and confidant. Y/n was possibly the only truly kind gesture Cersei’s father ever made toward her, but the new Queen was bitter from the beginning. She did not confide in other women. Cersei felt as though she was above gossiping and hand-sewing, even when she was a little girl. With her father’s praise and boasting of her being the most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei even believed she was above all the ladies of the country, including Y/n.

Y/n was a quiet young woman. Dutiful towards her Queen and tending to her every need without question, the handmaid was smart to never speak openly to Cersei. She kept her thoughts tight-knit in her mind and only replied to the Queen if Cersei spoke directly at her. Even where Y/n was from, she heard certain rumors about Cersei and how the Lady Lannister’s best friend, Melara Hetherspoon, mysteriously fell into a well and only Cersei lived to tell the tale. Y/n’s mother was secretly concerned when Tywin Lannister sent her daughter away to tend to Cersei, knowing that the Lioness of Casterly Rock was always troubled and strangely devoid of any emotion other than anger.

Even Y/n believed this, and in fear, she never spoke a word to Cersei unless spoken to so as not to draw attention to herself. Tending to Cersei was like awaiting with anticipation for a barrel of wildfire to ignite. All it took was one tiny flame.

However, once Cersei’s children were born, it appeared as though that flame was tameable. Y/n often tended to her Queen’s children more so than the wet nurses. Many wondered if the wet nurses were just lazy, but one maid, in particular, had the bravery to whisper about the Queen being behind this, how Cersei ordered the wet nurses to do their duty to feed her children except Myrcella but to leave all other care to Lady Y/n and herself.

If this rumor was to be taken seriously, no one knew why Cersei would do such a thing unless she full-heartedly trusted her handmaid. But this was Cersei Lannister of all people, and no one, not even King Robert, was allowed to be near the princess and princes without Cersei’s presence.

And yet, Y/n could be found with all three children, alone, holding them to her chest when they cried or laughing as she chased them around in the gardens. If they weren’t with Cersei or their teachers, the royal children were likely to be found with Lady Y/n, who they lovingly nicknamed their aunt once they began to speak. Perhaps the children truly thought Y/n was part of their family and if so, Cersei had allowed it to appear that way.

The truth is Cersei grew to care for one other person besides her children and Jaime, but kept that close to her heart and locked it away, not even Y/n could reach it. At first, Cersei was disgusted with her thoughts and her feelings. There was a time in her inner turmoil when she would lash out at her handmaid even though Y/n did nothing wrong. Despite all this, Cersei blamed her for everything and was even tempted to send her away. But young Myrcella, barely able to write her own name, cried one night when Y/n was not there to tuck her into bed and told her mother how much she loved Y/n. Feeling defeated, Cersei never exiled Y/n and refused to look at the other woman for many months.

Cersei’s demons came to a head when she heard Jaime tell yet another story about Tyrion finding another whore to bed with... but instead of her usual disgust, another thought struck her. There was a time when Cersei could act like a boy all she wanted without anyone batting an eye. She could do whatever she wanted and even though she was now Queen, Cersei had yet to take full advantage of that. As long she remained married to the King and gave him children, her father could not tell her what to do and her husband cared very little about what she did as long as Cersei kept him out of it. Hearing Jaime’s story of Tyrion’s new woman, Cersei thought if her dear little brother could take any common whore to bed without scandal, why couldn’t she?

Lady Y/n was already her handmaid. It was already the perfect disguise. If Tyrion could do it and hide his lover as a servant girl, so could Cersei. If Robert could openly bring whatever woman he wanted into his bed, so could his wife.

Of course, Cersei could order Y/n to kiss her and bed her if she liked, but she was a clever woman and felt the excitement of playing the long game of convincing Y/n to love her. So as not to scare her, Cersei started off slowly, starting by subtly nodding her thanks to Y/n when she helped her dress and undress because yes, Cersei has never once thanked anyone before. When Y/n didn’t appear put off by this, Cersei slowly began to openly thank her, then slowly progressed to subtly touching her arm or moving Y/n’s hair off her shoulder.

This slow progression is successful in many ways. Y/n doesn’t notice how much Cersei changed because Cersei had slowly done so without any red flags rising. Before Y/n could remember the story of Melara Hetherspoon, Cersei had her wrapped around her finger, practically brainwashing her handmaid into believing that she had always been a kind and loving queen towards her loyal subjects. Cersei’s patience paid off when Y/n began to openly talk to her about her hopes and dreams, even her opinions, without ever flinching of fear or repeal.

And, in a way, her patience also brought Cersei to love Y/n even more than just for lust. Listening to Y/n talk made Cersei wonder why she had suppressed the young woman from doing so in all the years she’s known her. Everything sounded exciting when Y/n spoke, her voice forcing Cersei to listen to every syllable.

That is... until eligible suitors came searching for Y/n’s hand in marriage. When Y/n talked about her suitors, Cersei would immediately order her to speak of something else. She couldn’t bear to hear about the men trying to take her new interest away from her. She wouldn’t allow her brothers to steal a toy from her as children, why would this be any different?

It was the talk of the decade. Throughout King’s Landing, people whispered about how Lady Y/n must be cursed. Ever since her father announced opening a proposal for her, many of Y/n’s suitors have mysteriously disappeared or been found dead in their beds, sometimes even before they could meet her. Over time, several men have gone to King’s Landing in hopes of winning Y/n’s hand. None have returned to their homes and some houses were on the brink of extinction because of this curse.

It didn’t take long before men stopped asking for Y/n’s hand in marriage, and Cersei had never been happier to have her handmaid remain at her side.

By the time Jon Arryn mysteriously died, Y/n was more than just a confidant or friend. She became Cersei’s secret lover, and Cersei didn’t feel any shame or disgust the first time she kissed her. While making plans for the royal family to travel to Winterfell, Y/n shyly and breathlessly confessed her love for Cersei. Before she could escape the Queen’s chambers in her shame, Cersei roughly held Y/n’s face in her hands as she fervently kissed her. The victory going on in Cersei’s mind was all too sweet, hastily taking Y/n to her bed then and there, finally claiming her as no one but the Queen’s.

Cersei had begun to feel like a god with what she had taken as her own. With Y/n secretly under one arm and Jaime under the other, she began to believe and reminisce about the young girl she once was, a Lady Lannister who took no prisoners and always got whatever she wanted. As Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei felt as though she held the world in her hands and was believed to be untouchable.

This god complex would continue to fester and grow as several events play out. While in Winterfell, Young Bran Stark mysteriously fell out of a window. When the royal family left the North, they brought Ned Stark and his two daughters with him as the new Hand of the King. When Cersei arrived back in King’s Landing, Y/n was waiting for her in her chambers with open arms and a hot bath. Cersei had never felt such power secured tightly in her fist before.

That is until it slipped ever so slightly out of her grasp and Cersei lashed out and nearly lost her mind. Under Lord Stark’s orders, his wife Catelyn took Tyrion as her prisoner and this prompted Jaime to attack the Hand of the King before escaping King’s Landing. Cersei could feel her power and influence slipping when, even as Ned Stark admitted to her accusations, Robert still refused to punish his old friend.

Madness slipped through, for a split second, as Cersei snapped, “I took you for a king!”

“Hold your tongue.”

“He’s attacked one of my brothers and abducted the other. I should wear the armor, and you the gown.”

King Robert spun around and hit her before Cersei could say more. She proudly claimed she would wear this mark on her face like a badge of honor before swiftly leaving the room. She retreated to her chambers to lick her wounds and fester in her rage. When Y/n was summoned, she was horrified by the angry bruise on Cersei’s face and tended to it immediately. Unaware of what had happened, Y/n barely even blinked when Cersei ordered her to stay with her the whole night.

War began to brew after that and Cersei received word of Tywin and Jaime raising an army to bring back Tyrion. Sensing it was time to make her move, she had her cousin Lancel bring an armload of wine for Robert when he fled to the Kingswood to hunt. Of course, everyone knows that wine and hunting don’t mix, and when Robert returned to Cersei, his guts were spilling out of him. It wasn’t long before Joffrey was sitting on the Iron Throne after that, his mother sitting beside him.

Cersei had Ned Stark arrested and his daughters confined to the Red Keep. With her son as king, she now had all the power with no one to tell her otherwise. She still felt her self-control slip, however, when she heard of Jaime’s capture and then Tyrion returned to King’s Landing as Tywin’s Acting Hand of the King. When she heard the news of her twin brother, Cersei retreated back to her chambers and once again, kept Y/n in her bed all night long. Y/n was none the wiser, believing Cersei was only grieving her brother’s capture by taking her anger out on her lover. This anger got even worse when Myrcella was sent away to Dorne.

When Jaime returned, Cersei was still an angry woman and nothing was ever the same again. Cersei retreated from Jaime’s embrace whenever he reached out to her. At first, he thought it was because of his missing hand, but then Cersei gifted him a golden prosthetic as a replacement. When she didn’t appear disgusted by him, Jaime kept a watchful eye on his sister.

He suspected Cersei had another lover but failed to find any man entering his sister’s chambers, no matter the time of day. He did, however, always noticed Y/n freely walking around wherever she wanted. Even when Cersei was not around, Lady Y/n would enter her room and the guards standing outside wouldn’t even question her. Sometimes, Jaime even witnessed Y/n ordering the guards around as if she were speaking on the Queen’s behalf, and they listened to her. Jaime’s affronted thoughts came to a halt when one day, he noticed Y/n out in the gardens with Tommen, the young prince indulging the lady with a book he read out loud. Cersei was nowhere in sight.

Jaime was not the smartest Lannister, but he knew Cersei better than anyone, and he knew that his sister would not trust their her children with anyone unless she had complete faith in them.

He confronted his sister that night when he knew that Y/n was sent away after helping Cersei undress. With the Queen now alone, Jaime snuck in and didn’t hesitate to speak his mind, “You love her.”

Cersei froze, her back turned to him, refusing to say a word or even look back to face him. Jaime scoffs because that was enough of a confirmation for him. Cersei was never one to hold back her tongue; this would have been no exception if it wasn’t true. The emotions that began to build within Jaime were rage and disgust. He pushed a boy out of a window for Cersei. He kept their affair a secret for Cersei. He killed his cousin for Cersei. He even lost his hand when trying to get back to Cersei. How is it that he went through all that trouble the gods have cursed him with for Cersei, and she had already moved on and fallen in love with another? How could he live with this knowing that Cersei had pushed him aside for none other than a woman?

“As hateful as you are... you love her,” he seethed between his teeth, “All those years you made me believe you kept her around to keep all eyes away from us... when really you just wanted us both. You have always been a selfish woman.”

A wry smile curls over his lips, the brewing anger slowly turning malicious, “But I wonder how selfish? Or are you just too blind by love to see it?”

Cersei turned to face him, her expression sour and voice dripping with venom, “See what?”

“That she has fooled you,” Jaime lets the words spill out of his mouth like water, fluid and graceful, even he believed the deceit he spoke, “Lady Y/n’s father may be our father’s bannermen, but she is no ally to us. I intercepted a raven before my escape, one that was addressed to Robb Stark. It was sealed with your sigil but not your handwriting, so I knew it wasn’t yours. However, seldom few have access to your seal and your desk, so one could only wonder who had the means of contacting the King of the North bearing your mark?”

Cersei stood still, eyes locked onto Jaime’s as her expression slowly twists and turns corrupt with barely restrained rage and madness in between the flicker of the candle flame. For a moment, a brief moment... Jaime thought that rage was directed at him.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was roughly woken by a few of the Queen’s personal guards, binding her and muffling her screams with a rag. Tediously, they bring her all the way down into the dungeon before throwing her into the deepest, darkest cell. With her bonds and gag loose, Y/n finally has a moment to yell and plead, her hands gripping onto the iron bars for dear life as she begged for someone to help her.

Her pleas stop, however, when from the shadow emerges Cersei, regal as always, dressed in her usual red and gold fabrics without the help of her usual handmaid, now trapped behind bars. The moment Y/n caught the light on Cersei’s face, she knew who to place blame for her arrest.

“Why are you doing this?! I deserve an explanation!”

“You’re a traitor,” Cersei hissed even with a sly smile on her beautiful face, “You betrayed my son, your king. And worse of all, you betrayed me. Did you truly think I wouldn’t find out about your secret little messages to the King in the North? Were you praying that Jaime would never return so that he wouldn’t be able to inform me of your treachery?”

Y/n was initially shocked by these accusations before turning to defend her honor, “Surely he’s mistaken! Your brother has been away from home for far too long. His mind might be sick from being Robb Stark’s prisoner all this time. Why would you believe Ser Jaime over me?”

The question dies in her throat, her face crumbling into fearful realization as Cersei continued to stand still, as quiet as a cat while smiling down at her mouse. Y/n’s voices drop down into a whisper as she tries to hold back her own emotions, “... Unless it’s true. The rumors have all been true. You and your brother...”

Y/n’s fear slowly reverts to anger as her thoughts spill openly from her lips, “I refused to believe the whispers. I was loyal to you from the very beginning. I stuck by your side through everything and yet-- How could you?” She finally snapped, voice rising once again as her grip tightens around her bars, “I sacrificed everything for you! I gave you all I had and it still wasn’t enough, wasn’t it? I loved you... with all my heart, but not even love can cure you from this madness.”

Cersei’s eyes bore into Y/n’s own, the two women standing in the silence of the dark, cold dungeon. The Queen doesn’t acknowledge her actions for not even she knew why she quickly decided to imprison her former lover. She herself felt disgusted. Cersei had been able to round up each of King Robert’s bastard children and slaughter them for the sake of Joffrey’s legitimacy, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to have Y/n executed even though the woman was accused of betraying Joffrey. Cersei once believed she would do anything for the sake of her children, and now she felt disgusted knowing that she couldn’t even kill a woman to uphold that silent promise.

Cersei held her chin high, her voice was as cold as the day she first met Lady Y/n, “I love my brother. I will only ever love my brother. How could I ever love someone as lowly as a servant girl?”

~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long before Tywin noticed his daughter had a new handmaid and not one who was trusted enough to tend to Tommen when Cersei wasn’t around. Without questioning the Queen, Lord Tywin conducted an investigation and quickly discovered Y/n in the dungeons. After briefly talking to her and investigating Jaime’s accusations, Tywin was able to concur that Y/n was innocent of such treasonous actions and set her free. When Cersei heard of this, she was enraged and immediately went to her father with demands of executing her former confidant. When Tywin brought his evidence to her attention, Cersei refused to believe it, turning a blind eye and cursing her father’s name. Even in disbelief, Cersei couldn’t help but internally feel the ache and anger in her heart. Deep down, she knew Y/n had done nothing wrong, yet she listened to Jaime anyway. The last nail was wedged into her coffin when Tommen asked Cersei where his Aunt Y/n had gone. Only then could she truly admit she made a mistake.

But it was too late. With Y/n no longer being Cersei’s handmaid, the lady avoided the Queen like the plague. Y/n was no longer the woman everyone once knew to be kind and compassionate. She was cold and calculating to everyone, including Cersei, if the two women ever had a brief encounter in Joffrey’s court.

Y/n couldn’t even find it within herself to feel sympathy towards Cersei when Joffrey was murdered at his own wedding. Long after Tommen was crowned King, Y/n continued to avoid Cersei and never once shed a tear for the boy she once loved as her own. As long as one bore the face of Cersei or sported any sort of Lannister trait, Y/n avoided them at all costs and even felt disgusted if she had to share a room with them. A moment of opportunity arrived for her to be rid of this Hell when the High Sparrow became a big influence on King Tommen and his people. Cersei had the High Sparrow annointed as High Septon with the belief that he would work under her rule, and Y/n watched this unfold from a distance until finally, she made her own calculated move.

In time, Loras Tyrell, Queen Margaery, and even Cersei had been thrown into various cells of the Great Sept when none of them confessed to the sins they were accused of. Cersei had felt the cold breath of karma ghost down her neck the moment her cousin Lancel entered the room to stand beside the High Sparrow. Weeks dragged on and Cersei was miserable in her cell, hair matted and body covered in filth, tongue dry from her thirst. The cell door opened one miserable morning and Cersei curled in on herself instinctively, ready to refuse the water when offered in exchange for a confession... but the septa never said a word. Slowly, Cersei looked up from her arms and found Lady Y/n standing there instead of a septa, dressed in travelling clothes and holding a small pouch of water in hand, devoid of emotion as she looked down on the former Queen she served.

Cersei didn’t look pleased or impressed, turning her away to lean against the cold wall of her cell, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The one thing you have always strived for; craved for... You have always wanted to see me suffer.”

“I don’t know if there is anything I can say or do to convince you otherwise,” Y/n scoffed while setting down the pouch of water, “I gave my life to you, yet you still believe I betrayed you somehow in some shape or form. Even when I was proven innocent, you despised me. Why?”

Cersei blinked slowly while staring off into space, trying to swallow her spit to relieve her thirst, “You were just some lowly reminder of a time when I was unfaithful.”

“To who? King Robert? Everyone knows you despised him. That is no secret. Everyone knows that you would have done anything to hurt him. But to hurt Jaime... I think most can suspect that at this point, you would have done anything to keep him at your side. You can’t fool anyone, Your Grace. Not anymore.”

“I have fooled no one.”

“No one but me. You had me fooled the moment you kissed me,” Y/n’s voice broke, ever so slightly, cracking her mask, “You had me believe what we had was love. And yet you threw it all away the moment you decided to believe whatever you wanted to hear.”

“I didn’t want you to betray me.”

“And I never did. But you didn’t exactly care, did you? Instead of just asking me, you threw me in a cell and left me to rot. Because it was Ser Jaime’s word against mine.”

“Why are you really here?” Cersei rasped, watching her finger as she absently traced shapes into her cell wall.

Y/n composed herself, hardening her heart again and quickly blinking away the tears before they could be shed. She straightens up her vest as she confidentally spoke, “I came to say goodbye and to pray we never see each other again. What happens to you is no longer my concern. King Tommen has granted me leave from your service and is sending me home today. My only wish... my only wish is that we part with our truths laid out to one another... the way it always should have been.”

Cersei finally turns to look up at the woman standing over her, feigned smile spreading over her filthy face, “What truths, pray tell?”

“The truth is you were right, Queen Regent. I did betray you,” Y/n carefully watched as Cersei’s face twisted with several emotions before continuing, “I betrayed you to the High Sparrow. I confessed my sins to him and thus revealed yours. I told him everything, from our affair to yours and Ser Jaime’s. It wasn’t your cousin who turned you in. It was me.”

For years, Y/n has watched Cersei play the game with eager eyes and thin smiles and it wasn’t until recently did Y/n want to see the smug smile wiped from her former Queen’s pretty face. In her dreams, Y/n could imagine this and feel satisfaction bloom in her stomach, fulfilling her without food or water and lasting her till she is old in age. Now, finally succeeding in making Cersei lose at her own game, Y/n doesn’t feel that satisfaction she desired. All she could feel was guilt and shame.

Cersei’s face crumbled until it was laid bare for Y/n to read her as a childrens’ book, the Lady Lannister’s voice becoming accusatory, “So I was right. All you’ve ever wanted was to see my downfall.”

Y/n felt as though she had been slapped in the face, hating herself even as the words fell out, “No... never. Not when I loved you.”

Cersei looked back up when she heard Y/n kneeling down to her height, meeting her shining eyes as her former handmaid whispered as though she spoke a secret, “You might not see it as I do, but if I were to recall... you were the one who betrayed me first. I only returned the favor. Farewell... my lioness. I will pray for the next whore you decide to take to bed.”

The way Cersei’s face fell only made Y/n feel worse as she stood, turning to leave. The former handmaid wanted this woman to beg for her life as she once did in her own cold cell. She wanted Cersei to squeal and cry and feel her heart break as she once did, betrayed by the woman she loved. In a last ditched effort, Y/n kicked her pouch of water close to the cell door, far from Cersei if she even tried to reach it.

“No-- wait, Y/n, please-!”

Y/n hastily made her exit, slamming the cell door behind her to shut out Cersei’s pleas. As she walked down the hall, Y/n could feel a tear slip past her detection... as well as a smile of freedom.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hi I’m back on my bs again. It’s been a busy couple of weeks and now that I’m caught up on House of the Dragon and no longer working nights, I feel fueled to write again. Please support and leave a request in the ask box!

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei x reader #cersei lannister imagine #cersei lannister #got #got imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #asoiaf #asoiaf imagine #a song of ice and fire #cersei lannister fic #lena headey

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risingscorchingsuns · 1 month

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Do you think it had to be rengoku who died? Or could it have been a different character or hashira and still give the same effect?

AA THIS IS SUCH A GOOD QUESTION!! Okay im likely gonna go back and edit this later once i think of Better Words, but prepare for a Long Ass Leon Analysis Post

I think that while a similar effect could have happened had it been another Hashira, the fact that it was Rengoku affected not just Tanjiro, but the rest of the Corps in a massive ripple effect. I’m assuming that by asking this you’ve read my “why Rengoku’s death impacts the outcome of the series” analysis post, but regardless, im gonna start rambling now lol

Let’s turn it into a cause-and-effect formula. If [Hashira] dies after the Mugen Train Incident, it affects Tanjiro with [x] and the rest of the Corps with [y]. When Rengoku died, it devastated Tanjiro because of both his personal connection to Rengoku (Flame Breathing vs Sun Breathing, as well as Rengoku’s infectious brotherly attitude) and his respect for the Hashira as a whole. X is Tanjiro’s devastation and his exposure to the Actual Strongest Demons. Y, on the other hand, is much more powerful, because of Rengoku specifically. He was like an older brother to Mitsuri. He was an icon of strength and persistence for Tengen. He was a beacon of encouragement for everyone he encountered, and Rengoku was uniquely inspiring in that way. Rengoku, specifically. The latest link in the Flame Hashira chain, the Rengoku family legacy, he was really more legend than man. He was an unfalteringly blazing beacon of constant courage and flaming strength, and his loss hit especially hard, because of how unstoppable he always strove to be. Even the surlier Hashira like Sanemi and Obanai respected him, because he’s just that bright. He’s open, and approachable, and kind. He may be a legend, but he’s a human, living legend. He was friends with everyone, and impacted everyone’s lives just by being in them. The unceremonious and sudden nature of his death is what causes X to hit so hard for Tanjiro, and what causes Y to extend far beyond him.

If, for example, Sanemi was the one who dies at Mugen Train, things would’ve turned out much differently. Sanemi never accepted Nezuko, and probably would’ve died scorning her. This would cause X to be much less impactful for Tanjiro. He would still be devastated, because he’s Tanjiro, and because he holds a deep respect for all the Hashira, but Sanemi’s refusal to acknowledge Nezuko would significantly dampen the impact of his death. X would still hit hard, because Tanjiro is exposed to an immensely powerful warrior being unceremoniously taken out by a demon like Akaza, but Sanemi’s generally unapproachable nature as well as the fact that he stabbed Nezuko would significantly dampen the impact on Tanjiro. Additionally, Tanjiro doesn’t know Genya yet, so he wouldn’t have any personal motivation for sympathy. In the case of Rengoku, when he mentions Senjuro, that hits hard for Tanjiro, because they’re both eldest brothers. As for the rest of the Corps, they’d be devastated for the same reasons as Tanjiro- a Hashira has fallen, and that’s a rare and devastating casualty of war. But Sanemi doesn’t have the same social impact that Rengoku does, so ultimately I think neither X or Y would hit as hard.

Honestly im trying to stop myself from plugging every Hashira into this equation just for the sake of analysis, so I might come back to this later when I’ve gotten a bit more sleep lmao

Now let’s take a Hashira that Tanjiro has a personal connection to, like Shinobu or Giyuu. If Shinobu had come with Tanjiro to personally investigate Mugen Train, he would almost certainly blame himself for her death, and X would be a different flavor of powerful, because of her conversation with him in about Kanae’s dream. The death of any Hashira would cause Y to have some ripple effect, purely because it’s a Hashira, but ultimately, the only Hashira I believe could even start to rival Kyojuro’s influence is Gyomei, purely because he’s been a Hashira for so long. But no other Slayer had the same warmth and personable character that Kyojuro had, and that’s why his death in particular hits so hard. If Giyuu had died, Tanjiro would likely have been just as upset as he was with Rengoku- he’s witnessed Giyuu’s strength on multiple occasions, and Giyuu has staked his life on Nezuko. That’s something that Tanjiro won’t easily forget, and if Giyuu had died, it would easily devastate him to push himself harder, giving X the same emotional weight as Kyojuro’s death. However, because it’s Giyuu, Y would be MUCH less impactful, because a lot of the Hashira actively dislike him. ( @princeblue actually has an excellent analysis post on why he pisses the other Hashira off, I would recommend reading it, they make some excellent points!!)

Anyway, to restate my thesis, Rengoku’s death was as impactful as it was not just because he was a Hashira, but because he was Rengoku. He’s an infallible beacon of hope and warmth, and his unceremonious death sent a ripple effect through the entire Corps. He touches the lives of everyone he meets, intentionally or not- it’s just who he is. Much like Tanjiro, his passion is infectious, and his spark and drive spread to everyone who loved him after his death. It would still devastate Tanjiro to no end to watch a Hashira die in front of him, but it was Rengoku’s personal connection to not just Tanjiro, but the entire Corps that ultimately made him as impactful of a character as he was.

That last paragraph was a little shaky, I have a nasty habit of only doing analysis writing when it’s 4:30am and I should be sleeping, please ask me to clarify anything if I fucked up! I promise it makes so much sense in my head lmao

Thank you so much for this ask I’m literally happy stimming sitting here poking away at analysis posts nothing makes me happier than media-dissecting my blorbos

#leon rambles #leon askbox #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer #analysis #demon slayer analysis #kny

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roux36prod · 2 months

Text

MAD QUEEN

- A Five Nights at Freddy’s Elseworld -

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The incident that should have killed Elizabeth Afton in 1980 when she was 8 only crippled her left arm beyond repair. She lived, and eventually grew up to inherit her father’s company, Afton Robotics Inc., and continue his monstrous legacy.

With her father, now Springtrap, she searches for the spirit of her little brother Evan to bring him home, but her twin brother Michael refuses to let that happen.

————————————————————

Some things canon to this Elseworld:

Michael and Elizabeth (Lizzy) are twins in this AU. She initially dies in 1980 at 8 years old, and Michael is 10-ish in 1983, when Evan dies. (Recycled idea from Freddy & Friends, my main FNAF AU)

It’s partially inspired by the old theory that Elizabeth was speaking through the Fredbear plush to Evan in the FNAF 4 ending, promising “I will put you back together.” Because of this, it is Lizzy’s goal to fulfill her’s and her father’s desires and bring Evan back from the dead.

William trains her to be the next head of Afton Robotics, and she continued his legacy after he was spring-locked. They concluded their experiments and completed his new body years ago, and now they’re on the search for his spirit, nowhere to be found. He’s hiding from them.

On this note, Android Theory is partially canon here, but not in its entirety. They’ve built an android body for Evan so that they can “revive” him, but they need his soul to do so. So no, there is no android Evan running around.

She never kills anyone directly, but I imagine she either reopens Circus Baby’s Pizza World or creates the Twisted ones for experimentation (or both). One thing’s for sure: she’s just as psychotic as her father. That’s why Evan doesn’t want to be found. He knows they’re monsters.

GoldenDuo is for sure canon to this, but in a different way. Instead of the two spirits inhabiting Golden Freddy, Evan isn’t tethered to any specific character (not even Shadow Freddy). However, Evan tends to cling to Cassidy because she’s his friend, and Cassidy protects him from the rest of his family, including Michael (though she still has an ego that only a child can have).

Michael has a… complicated relationship with his family. William and Lizzy are convinced that he hates them, just like he hated Evan, but they never saw—they refused to see—that he loved Evan as much as anyone else in that family. He wants to love them too, but they won’t let him. They hate him.

Michael does NOT get scooped in this AU. Because Elizabeth is still alive, there is no reason for Michael to be sent to Sister Location.

Elizabeth doesn’t hate Circus Baby for what happened because she knows it was an accident. It was supposed to be anyone else, and she was unlucky enough to be the one kid that was alone. Michael has some distaste from her not seeing it the same way with him.

Evan used to hate Michael, but Charlie (The Puppet) eventually helped him realize that Michael was a good person, and wanted to help Evan more than anything in the world. So Evan revealed himself to Michael, and they both worked together to put an end to his father’s sick game.

Lastly, this is NOT canon to Freddy & Friends (my main FNAF AU). This is a sort of “what if” on the OG FNAF timeline, with a few of my own takes in there (with the help of a friend). If you wanna do something with this—make fan art, fanfics, animations—go right on ahead. This was just me writing these ideas down and seeing how they flow.

Be sure to give credit if you do anything with it, though.

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MORE INFORMATION + ISOLATED SKETCHES UNDER THE CUT

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Canon Event - The Night of the Fire:

March 16, 2007, Michael sets fire to an Afton Robotics warehouse where Springtrap and Evan’s new body are being kept, but not without interference from Elizabeth. She almost kills him, holding him at gunpoint, but she realizes that she has some semblance of a heart after all. They both escape the burning building together.

Michael and Elizabeth have a heart to heart outside as they watch the building burn: Elizabeth learns that Michael never hated them. He’s always loved them, and wanted nothing more than to be her brother, but they refused him; it was easier to believe that he meant to kill Evan than to believe it was an accident. Learning this, Elizabeth’s view of Michael shifted into something kinder.

Springtrap (who escaped the fire before it got bad) meets them back there. Michael tells them both that Evan doesn’t want to be found. He saw what their father did, and was horrified. Evan sees them as monsters. Elizabeth realizes that it’s true, but Springtrap starts laughing with pure joy, now that he knows that Golden Freddy was the only suit in the room when he did what he did. He now knows how to find Evan now but, Elizabeth finally realizes how much of a monster her father is.

William doesn’t actually care about what Evan wants, and he never did. He only cared about how Evan made him feel—Evan was his favorite child, and he only gave the twins attention when they were useful. William only cares about himself, and it’s only now that Elizabeth sees that. All she ever was to him was a tool to help him get what he wants.

Elizabeth on the other hand DOES care about Evan. He was her brother, and she loved playing with him. He was the light of the family, and the twins knew that better than anyone. Her whole plan for him hinged on him never having to learn what she and her father did to bring him back, but he knew the whole time. She was heartbroken, ashamed of what she had done—what she became in order to please her father.

Springtrap and Michael start fighting, just like they used to. But this time, it’s the last straw. Elizabeth tries to stop him, but Springtrap backhands her across the cheek, and he throws Michael back into the fire as the building explodes, forcing Elizabeth to watch her brother scream in pain as the fire begins to consume him. Filled with rage, she punches Springtrap in the face, shattering the prosthetic arm that he made for her. Springtrap abandons her, coming to realize that he no longer needs her.

Michael would have been dead if Evan didn’t convince Cassidy to save him. Michael had severe third degree burns across most of his body, but he survived. Afterwards, Mike is treated by a nurse friend of Elizabeth’s (gay?) in her home because Michael hates hospitals (they bring back bad memories).

Michael and Elizabeth now work together to bring their father down once and for all, helping the other spirits find their happiest day.

Isolated sketches:

Original Sketch from March 18, 2022:

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dolphin1812 · 10 months

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They’re here at last!!!

I love all of Les Amis, but their introductory paragraphs have also been pretty thoroughly analyzed - @everyonewasabird and @fremedon have pretty comprehensive posts on them from previous Brickclubs. Rather than go through them individually, then, I’ll try to point out some general trends that would be relevant to Marius (given that we meet them as soon as he’s kicked out of his house, we can assume there’s a connection):

The first major issue is the legacy of the French Revolution (1789) and the Terror (1793). All of the characters we meet here (with the exception of Grantaire) are attached to the legacy of the former, but they’re divided over the latter. Enjolras, for instance, is compared to Saint-Just – a more radical figure from that time period – and with his “warlike nature” and link to the “revolutionary apocalypse,” he’s definitely more in the tradition of ‘93 than ‘89, even if he’s attached to both. Combeferre, on the other hand, fears that kind of violence, only finding it acceptable if the only alternative is for things to stay the same. Like Marius’ newfound Bonapartism, all of their ideas come out of the clash and evolution of thought after the Revolution and the French Empire under Napoleon, placing each Ami in a similar position to him as they work out their ideas. All of them, though, came to a different conclusion than Marius, prioritizing the Republic over the Empire. At the same time, they’re all distinct from each other, too, revealing the diversity in French republican thought. With his limited exposure to political ideas outside of royalism (and now, idolization of Napoleon), the myriad veins of republicanism that the Amis offer broaden up the political sphere of the novel significantly.

On top of that, they’re a group; they can learn from each other in a way that Marius hasn’t had a chance to. Even Grantaire, who claims to not believe in anything, has friends, and while he distances himself from specific ideologies, his jokes illustrate that he’s familiar with them (for example: “He sneered at all devotion in all parties, the father as well as the brother, Robespierre junior as well as Loizerolles”). Marius doesn’t have friends or people to really work through ideas with. Oddly enough, the most similar structure to this that we’ve seen so far is the royalist salon. The key difference (aside from the obvious) is the chance to learn from different perspectives, whether that’s based on variations in republicanism, in priorities (conflict vs education, the local vs the international), or both. They’re not even all defined by their politics. Courfeyrac (who easily has the most insulting character introduction in the book) is defined by his character and personality first, with his political ideas mainly being a given from his participation in this group. These variations in emphasis, then, not only show us the diversity of their views, but the varying intensities with which they hold them (as in, you could talk to Courfeyrac about something that isn’t political, but you couldn’t do that with Enjolras) and how they’re kept together in spite of their disagreements (a common goal – a Republic – and many fun and socially savvy members). All of these factors serve to give a sense of liveliness as well, contrasting sharply with the “phantoms” of the royalist salon.

Les Amis aren’t very diverse class-wise, but they’re still better than the salon. Bahorel and Feuilly, at least, aren’t bourgeois or aristocrats.

Feuilly also brings us to the international level, far beyond Marius’ early attempts at imagining himself as part of a country. Focusing on the partition of Poland in particular, Feuilly advocates for national self-determination in all lands under imperial rule. The idea that a people should govern themselves was key to republican thought more broadly in that time (nationalism really took shape in the 18th-19th centuries), but to Feuilly, this isn’t just an issue of nationalism, but of tyranny:

“There has not been a despot, nor a traitor for nearly a century back, who has not signed, approved, counter-signed, and copied, ne variatur, the partition of Poland.”

The word “despot” ties this back to France in a way, with his rejection of despotism as it affects Poland possibly implying a similar anger at the same phenomenon in France. The Bourbons at the Congress of Vienna in 1815 were, after all, the same Bourbons who ruled during the Restoration. A quick note on Lesgle: I didn’t get the joke around “Bossuet” the first time I read this book. Then, I had to take a class on the French monarchy, and I was assigned a text by Bossuet of Meaux, court preacher to Louis XIV and fierce proponent of absolutism. His name seemed familiar, but it took me a while to think to check Les Mis? And now I think calling Lesgle Bossuet because he’s Lesgle (like l’aigle=eagle) of Meaux is one of the funniest jokes in this book.

#Les mis letters #lm 3.4.1 #les amis de l'abc #enjolras #combeferre #courfeyrac #feuilly #grantaire #Bahorel #Lesgle #bossuet #this ended up being much less organized than I’d hoped #But that’s OK because they’re here and now we can all talk about them!!

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bearlytolerant · 4 months

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Fandom: Starfield

Rating: E

Pairing: Delgado x Oc

Chapter 6 Excerpt:

Even with the ComSpike and Conduction grid, navigating to Bannoc IV proves to be a shitstorm. Thank the stars for her brother Val or she would’ve had a difficult time trying to fly through the turbulence and getting the damn targeting system to lock onto The Legacy. But he manages it, no problem. They ease through the red haze that rocks their ship, teeth gritting against the vibrations. In front of them, a zigzag of electromagnetic energy flashes hot white then disappears as she steers away from a spinning asteroid. Carefully pushing forward, the haze clears just enough for the Legacy to come into view. Rerouting power from her grav drive to her engines, the ship speeds up, inching close to The Legacy. Another vibration rocks them but she manages to dock the ship.

“We’re all set to board,” Val tells her.

She breathes deep as she exits the cockpit, heading to the armory with Val. They suit up and grab their packs, guns and extra ammo, preparing for whatever the hell might be waiting for them on that ship. She expects a few robots and maybe even some heatleeches. Those fuckers manage to sneak onto any ship somehow. Packs on their backs, they waste no extra time. Together, they board The Legacy.

They’re hit with a blaring alarm and a rush of cool air. Though stale and laden with dust, the air is almost earthy sweet, invisible yet clinging to their skin like dew in morning grass. It sends a strange sort of chill up Verity’s spine as she covers her ears to block out the alarm. Broken robot at her feet, her eyes adjust to the dim surroundings and she doesn’t quite catch what the automated voice says as it comes to an abrupt ending. She uncovers her ears.

“Apparently we’re not the first to have come here,” Verity says, stepping over the detached robot leg and making a left up the stairs.

“Shit. Yeah, this doesn’t look encouraging.”

“Can't back out now.”

“Technically, we can.”

“No you can’t. You kidding me? I know you’re dying to see what’s on this ship, same as me.”

Val chuckles. “Hate that you know me so well.”

“Honestly,” Verity adjusts the straps of the pack on her shoulders, “I also hate that.”

The stairway opens up into a room that splits. She pauses, contemplating her options.

“I would’ve preferred a lie.” Val kicks an empty box out of his way to stand against the wall. “I like having my feelings spared. Besides, you don’t mean that.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers it to her. She plucks one out and he does too, pocketing the pack and trading it for a lighter. Flicking the lighter, the flame glows and he holds it to the end of her cigarette. Then lights his own while he plays with the lighter.

“I do mean it,” she replies after taking a drag. Her brow quirks as she meets his gaze. “Sometimes you can know too much about someone.”

More on AO3

#bear writes #starfield #starfield fanfic #starfield delgado #delgado x oc #this chapter contains no smut or delgado though #verity blanche #Val blanche #the legacy quest with a twist #split skin #chapter 6

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wickedsrest-rp · 1 year

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Name: Kaden Langley Species: Hunter (Ranger) Occupation: Animal Control Officer Age: 33 Years Old Played By: Liz Face Claim: Michiel Huisman

“I’ve got my own codes. They’re, uh… I probably should have written them down.”

TW: Parental death

Le devoir passe avant la famille.

Duty first, family second. That was the core of the Langley family hunter code and what Kaden heard day in and day out while growing up and training to be a ranger worthy of his family’s legacy.

It was also the adage that led Charles Langley to his grave. Claire never forgave herself for not being there the night that her husband was torn apart by a pack of werewolves, for not standing beside him as a hunter instead of fleeing with their children as a mother. She was supposed to be a hunter first, just like him. Still, it became clear to Claire that though their duty was to rid the world of supernatural filth, the only way to do that, to survive, was with family. They had to stick together above all else. She would be sure that nothing would come between them. They were stronger together and she would not let her children meet the same fate as their father.

Kaden and Keira’s training only escalated after their father’s death, even though they were only ten and eight years old. Supernatural scum didn’t care how old a hunter was, they would show no discretion and so neither did Claire. Her standards were high, almost impossible and Kaden’s were the highest of all. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he worked, or how close he came to reaching those standards, the goalpost always seemingly moved just out of reach. He was the older brother, left as the man of the family; in Claire’s eyes, there was no other option for him than to be the best.

His little sister, on the other hand, never had trouble pushing herself to their mother’s standards. She was tenacious and fully believed in every word of the hunter’s code, determined to rid the world of werewolves and any other monsters crawling the earth. For every ounce of conviction she possessed, Kaden had a drop of doubt. He tried to drown it out, but it leaked through bit by bit as the years went on, with every werewolf left dead in the woods and every squonk slayed.

It didn’t matter. He told himself his duty was to hunt and to stick by his family no matter what. He couldn’t deny the danger they had encountered throughout the years or what had happened to his father. If nothing else, he had to stay to make sure his family survived. Even more importantly, he had to be sure Keira survived. She grew more and more reckless as the years went on, more committed to their duty than any other hunter Kaden knew. She was going to get herself killed unless he could pull her back off the ledge. So he stayed for her.

He stayed until he couldn’t. Throughout the years, Kaden tried to find moments of normalcy where he could. There wasn’t much to find, but he had found one small piece to hold onto in Damien. He was just a normal human with no clue about the supernatural or any of the fucked up shit that the Langleys dealt with on a daily basis. Damien was happy to live in ignorant bliss and Kaden was more than happy to leave him there. Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Kaden returned from a hunting trip and when he met back up with Damien, something was different. The hairs on his arms stood straight up and a chill ran down his spine in an all too familiar way. His friend had turned into a werewolf. He wasn’t sure if Damien even knew what he was or how dangerous he was now and he was too afraid to ask. Instead, he chose his own ignorant bliss.

His sister didn’t make the same choices. Kaden couldn’t keep her away from Damien forever and Keira sensed what he was just as quickly as her brother had. Unlike her brother, she knew what had to be done. When Kaden came home, he felt a chill down his spine as he stepped into the living room. He didn’t have to switch on the lights to see Damien tied up and gagged on the couch with Keira standing there with a knife to his throat. Kaden tried to negotiate with his sister, tried to talk her down, but she insisted that he needed to kill his friend or that she would.

He refused. She kept to her word, kept to the code. Le devoir passe avant la famille.

Kaden had stayed for Keira. It turned out, she wasn’t there anymore. There was no more reason to stay. But he didn’t know where to go. If he was abandoning his family, it meant leaving his whole world behind. Everything was tied up in hunting, everything except for Damien. He had to reach out beyond his family and their circle of colleagues and friends. But who did he know who would understand?

A letter came in the mail a few days before, almost like fate was handing him the answer. It was from his cousin, Andy; his cousin who had run away from the family with her own sister years ago. Kaden turned the envelope over to see the return address. Looked like he was heading to Wicked’s Rest, Maine.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do but the one thing he did know was that he planned to throw the Langley hunter codes into the trash. Fuck duty, fuck family. There had to be a better way to hunt and Kaden was going to find it. Time to write his own hunter codes.

Character Facts:

Personality: Determined, impulsive, abrasive, loyal, violent, sarcastic, stubborn

Kaden was born in Lyon, France, and speaks French and English fluently.

Superior knowledge of the supernatural and monsters, specifically beasts.

Superior in all kinds of melee and ranged weaponry, though he has a soft spot for a good knife.

Kaden still believes in the value of hunting as a way to keep humanity safe but he refuses to be put into a situation like the one he found himself in with Damien. His hunter codes are a work in progress, but he’s determined to follow them to the letter. Well, when he remembers. It’s a work in progress.

Kaden’s father was Jewish. He and Keira kept the traditions and holidays that they could alive. Claire thought that celebrating and any sort of religious display was pointless and took time away from hunting, but never stepped in or prevented her children from trying to keep that connection to their father. Even so, Kaden and Keira tried to keep it secret, something that was special just between them as siblings.

Currently, he’s sleeping on the couch at Andy and Alex’s place.

Kaden doesn’t know the real reason why Andy and Alex fled all those years ago. His mother told him that they had betrayed the family. Andy told him that she had to protect her sister. He had no idea Alex was a werewolf before showing up at their doorstep.

#bio #taken #taken human #taken hunter #hunter #human #parental death tw

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celiastjamesoscar · 5 months

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Same. I can go on and on and on about TLOU. And I have. To unwilling parties. Aka my brother. I would love to play Hogwarts legacy as each of the houses. I have 2 modes I’m either doing all the side stuff or I’m doing almost done of it. But if I do I’m not doing back to back play throughs.

Game of Thrones at 13? Dang. I didn’t even watch the show until I was 17. Still haven’t watched season 8. Need to watch house of the dragon. And the deciding factor for me watching to begin with was dragons. The books seem cool but they’re so intimidating. It’s not even cause they’re long. Adult books just have trouble holding my attention. And not confusing me.

People always ask for a manager after I give them an answer. It’s like they don’t believe me. Had a guy ask me if we had some treats in stock and I said if it wasn’t on the shelf it’s a no and then he asked if I could order them and I again I said no. And when he heard no he gave me this look the look like that he couldn’t believe I just told him no. The funnily enough after he left I walked over to the shelf and there they were the treats he was looking for. Now they were behind a different one but like dude clearly didn’t look hard all he had to do was slide a tiny bag to the side and there they were.

Those unwilling parties are about to get the best history lesson ever, so your brother better appreciate it! DID YOU SEE THAT A REMASTERED VERSION IS COMING OUT OF PART 2?!? IM SO EXCITED FOR IT! I played as the Slytherin house for Hogwarts Legacy and I really liked it. I feel like you would get burnt out on back to back play throughs, but that’s just me

Game of Thrones at 13 probably wasn’t the best idea, but it has changed my life. I love those books so much, but the ending to the show made me so mad. You aren’t missing much with season 8, sometimes I pretend it doesn’t exist. House of the Dragon is amazing, especially if you like the dragon aspect. It’s a bit slow in the beginning, but it eventually picks up. Oh yeah, the books are intimidating at first, but you eventually get used to the writing after awhile. Stephen King books are hard for me to read because they don’t hold my attention very well, so I get it

People who ask for the manager after getting a solid answer from an employee are so infuriating. Like you want to bother someone else because you don’t believe the person who’s working there? 😭 like make it make sense. That’s honestly on him for not being able to find the treats though, like he could have looked a little bit harder before asking

#bender chats #anon message

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marathehomosexual · 10 months

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Ok this probably sound insane lol but I liked reading your reasoning as to why characters should piss themselves as they died, so can you provide more examples? Doesn’t really matter what media they’re from.

Okay this one is just mean and it only serves to fuel my sadism but, Gwyndolin from Dark Souls 1

Now Gwyndolymin is not a bad person, they are only fulfilling their role and keeping their father's kingdom stable, they have some pride, but they aren't prideful, they don't appear as God King who guides the world, he works in the shadows, making sure people still believe things are fine, he creates illusions of his sister to make sure people keep their faiths, i can understand that, i can sympathize with that.

But i need that twink obliterated, the child of the Lord of Sunlight, who gave up centuries upon centuries of their life to keeping their legacy, only to fail, being killed by a brute undead, they cry and piss themselves as they realize it was all for nothing, their father turned into a hollow shell, their sister long gone leaving him alone, and their Brother is a traitor who wants to destroy them all. They are alone, they have nothing, in this moment where they are at their weakest nobody will come to save, no matter how much they scream, no matter how much they pray, the Gods of this land are long dead, and he will join them soon enough

The tragedy of it all is beautiful, while Izuko was the karmic downfall of a person seeing their true self, Gwyndolin never thought of themselves as great, they never presented themselves as powerful or great in anyway, they don't hold the same pride as the other gods, but they will die anyway, as the sun sets in the age of the gods, and the endless darkness covers the sky to bring forth the age of humanity

#Dark Souls #Dark Souls 3 #Dark Souls 1 #souls games #Unsanitary

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simgrump · 1 year

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❦ Thorne-Zest Household, Day Fourteen ❦

❧ EXPLANATION - - - - -

“So, are you going to tell me what last night was all about?” Eris asked the next morning after they’d gone home and went to bed. She had no clue what had gotten into him, maybe some sort of initiation or something into a fraternity, but she didn’t know why they’d swear him to secrecy, mostly the frats wanted people to know their name and why someone was dressed up like that.

“I told you, it’s secret,” Ezra said.

“Ezra...you showed up in a robe. Do I have to worry? Is it like a club or something? A murder club? Are you going to murder me in my sleep?” Eris played with him.

A laugh escaped Ezra and he shook his head. “No, I won’t murder you, I promise. Look, what if I said it’s an...Ace club.” At Eris’s skeptical look, Ezra quickly explained. “Asexual. That’s what I am, I labeled myself.”

“Oh. Cool,” she said, remembering their whole journey in trying to get Ezra to figure out his own sexuality. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d done so and she was more focused on the whole robed ordeal, making her shake her head and then say, “But there’s no way an Ace club makes you wear a robe at night.”

“How do you know? Are you Ace?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t know.”

The whole conversation was taking on a more playful tone and she was grateful for that. Obviously he was holding true to it being a secret and if he promised it wasn’t some weird fetish murder club, then she’d believe him. Which made this whole conversation more amusing, because it meant he was playing along with her. Something he’d been getting better and better at doing. “Okay, but I do have a gay brother.”

“The gay brother club doesn’t wear robes, got it. But that doesn’t mean the Ace club doesn’t either. They’re not the same.”

Eris laughed, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s a secret.”

Gen One || Legacy Page

#the sims 4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #legacy challenge #the sims 4 #simblr #rrl #rrl02 #rrl02r2 #rrl02tzd14 #eris #ezra

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camelliacats · 2 years

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written in your blood (part 2/6)

One last visit to Rowle's—and Flora's—saga with the Carrow siblings, written as my entry for the Death Eater 2022 Fest. Set primarily after this oneshot and this story.

Ch2: "Then: Alecto" [FFN] [AO3] | ← →

Pairings/Characters: Thorfinn Rowle/Alecto Carrow & Amycus Carrow, with cameos from Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort, Mulciber, & Bellatrix Lestrange, as well as mentions of others

Rating: T

Words: ~3,660

Additional info: romance, angst, hurt/comfort, Dark magic, Marauder era, 3rd person POV

Summary: Thorfinn's made the same promise twice over already…and he'll make it again, if it means new ally Flora will be instrumental in getting his love and his best mate back. Ch2: Thorfinn swears his second oath to Alecto, as they navigate life amidst Dark company during the first war.

Nearly a year later, that blood oath with Amycus seems like such a silly thing in the face of joining the Death Eaters alongside Alecto.

Their first year out of Hogwarts is going grandly. The boys followed Crouch to the Lestrange home in late July and ended wrapped up in Alecto's initiation assignment, despite her best efforts to shoo Thorfinn and Amycus away from the den of murderers and scoundrels.

And now, one specific murder later, they're amongst likeminded folk.

…sometimes the notion gives Thorfinn pause. His parents never went on about blood supremacy much, though his grandparents did when he was younger, so he feels a little out of touch when someone whips Bellatrix up into a tizzy or Travers or Nott go off on a tirade about "the way things used to be."

There are others, half-bloods like himself and the Carrows, who simply yearn for what their names used to be, the influence they used to command. Mulciber and Avery are this type, and they bookend Evan Rosier less as friends and more like lackeys ready to lick Rosier's pureblood boots.

And then…then there are others, no matter their blood status, with their own plans. Malfoy and the Lestrange brothers sometimes have commentary on the goings-on around here but also know to hold their tongues, as though they've got their own machinations going on in addition to the Dark Lord's plans. As for Wilkes—it's clear as day, the way she skulks about Bellatrix and Rodolphus' home when not laughing at Mulciber or Avery. For Wilkes, the Death Eaters are an escape from something far worse.

Thorfinn knows, because that's the case for Alecto and Amycus. And his eyes land on Alecto on the ground floor as they pass each other by, Thorfinn musing how much she'd hate to be compared to her fellow witch, especially where it hurts.

His look must convey too much, because Alecto does a double-take and backtracks to stalk towards him. "Rowle, if you're going to act as an inanimate object, then do it somewhere you won't take up so much space," Alecto spits. She grabs his arm to turn him towards the next room. "Least of all by the front door."

"I've got watch duty," he points out. Technically, he's where he's supposed to be, standing across from the ornately carved, black-lacquered door. (He's not a fan of watch duty, of course. It's a strong reminder of the emphatically rich legacy of the Black and Lestrange lines.)

But Alecto, though she's as freshly official as are he and Amycus, has been running with this group for a couple years now and acts as though she's higher up the ranks regardless. She spies a fresh recruit (really, someone ought to give Mulciber another task than picking up any old riffraff who can wave a wand) and snaps her fingers at the dark-haired wizard. "You! You're on door duty."

He gapes at them and stammers. He points to himself and then the door, literally shaking in fright at the prospect.

Alecto glowers at him. "For the moment," she clarifies. And then she drags Thorfinn from the wide-open vestibule and into the small sitting room off to the right. Thankfully, it's empty at midday.

(Dark deeds are best plotted and executed at night.)

Alecto yanks the door shut behind them, catching herself before the wood slams into the frame and letting the latch click softly. Then she whirls on him, and Thorfinn would shrink back from her temper if Alecto truly were upset with him.

But she's hardened in some ways, being here. And in others…being here, with Amycus and Thorfinn by her side, it's changed her. Perhaps not for the better, since he can glimpse the concern in her stare.

"You can't just stand by the door, moping around, Rowle," she hisses in undertones. Alecto takes two small stomps towards him.

Thorfinn's shoulders sag. He glances behind him and finds a high-backed chair to lean against. "I'm not moping," he retorts.

"Don't get defensive now."

He purses his lips at her, the closest he comes to glaring at her these days.

Alecto sneers, making Thorfinn's heart twinge (it's the only smile he needs in his life). She closes the gap between them, with either of his legs beside her hips, and she rests her hands on his arms. "Rowle," she intones, "we're both aware you don't hate my bossy side." A smidgeon of tiredness leaks into her tone; her right hand strokes his left arm, absentmindedly. "I never do anything without purpose. And when I tell you to watch yourself, I mean it."

Thorfinn frowns. He leans forward and, when she doesn't shy away, presses a soft kiss against her hairline.

Perhaps he imagines Alecto leaning in to the gesture. A moment later, his stout witch stands a little straighter, having pulled back slightly from him. "You've got to keep your heart in check around here," she reminds him.

"Must I? The first night Amycus and I arrived, I thought we made it clear to the others, what you and I have. Wilkes still scowls at me for you kicking her out of that shared room so you and I could get reacquainted."

Alecto snorts at the memory. "She prefers her new broom closet; she's finally got a room all to herself. But that's not what I mean, Rowle." She takes a step back and lightly flicks his forehead. "It's your thoughts, as well. There are Legilimens amongst these ranks." She tenses, and Thorfinn flashes back to years ago, to a walk they shared in Hogwarts' dungeons, when Alecto first spoke of a future split from her brother, from Rowle. "If anyone catches the tiniest glimmer that you do not belong…" She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

No. He doesn't want to imagine the selection of outcomes, either. "Message received," Thorfinn mumbles.

That's all she needs to hear. She rewards him with a hearty snog, and suddenly this ancient and most noble house of Lestrange and Black around them melts away, seems rather inconsequential so long as Alecto accepts Thorfinn in her life and Thorfinn has Alecto in his arms.

Practicing Dark magic with Amycus last year—

Putting what they learned to use and then some the past month and a half as their reunited trio shadows the more experienced Death Eaters and insists the Carrows and Thorfinn partake more often—

It's worth it. Thorfinn can't figure if his ideologies align fully with the Dark Lord's yet, but every crime committed is worth it, so long as his world has Alecto and Amycus in it.

And yet it's easy to think such things when the Death Eaters are winning or the only losses primarily are unfamiliar, not-Marked recruits. It's easy to think that they're only play-acting in some deadly production with the Aurors and this newfangled Order of the Phoenix until they take some serious hits in the weeks that follow.

Perhaps the Death Eaters have been complacent, believing victory will always be theirs, that this string of clashes, these little battles, would never amount to much of a war, even though Alecto told Thorfinn and Amycus shortly after they joined that this group has been around in some form for decades. And such a group with such a long history can't be defeated so easily, can it? After all, this summer alone, the McKinnons were taken care of (mainly Travers' work), Avery Blasted the Order's beloved Benjy Fenwick to pieces rather literally, and the Prewett twins… …well, Thorfinn's memories of those two are fresh, given that Dolohov and Rabastan brought him and the Carrows along (they are young and new but powerful and handy with certain spells, a notion which makes Dolohov irritable and Rabastan deliberate for an extra half a beat when choosing those he brings out on assignment with him now).

But September closes out, and Wilkes is captured when returning from assignment. Word comes in: She fought like hell, both trying to avoid being dragged to Azkaban and trying to take at least one Auror with her.

When Lucius Malfoy finishes his summation of the information he gathered from inside the Ministry, his gray eyes go around the long table in Bellatrix and Rodolphus' dining room. They stop on the Dark Lord, hidden in the shadows at the head of the table. "…Wilkes is dead, milord," Malfoy states, his usually prim tone flat.

The room falls into silence. Thorfinn wants to check Alecto's reaction—is she happy? Mad? She never got along with Wilkes, but there's something to be said for sharing anything for a time with another person. Not to mention Thorfinn can count on one hand the number of Death Eater witches in this dining room-turned-conference hall.

"We have suffered a loss," the Dark Lord states, his voice eerie, like the rasp from a man not quite like them, like…something else. "But this changes nothing. We will carry on as planned." Without waiting for reaction, he stands, red eyes flashing, and he glides out of the room with barely a sound.

But behind him the Death Eaters come back to life. Some of them could care less, same as their master. Malfoy stays to have a word with his sister-in-law, and of course Rodolphus lingers with them. Rosier shoves out of his chair with an unusual display of temper and hurries from the room, Mulciber after him, Avery pulling up the rear.

Amycus stands with a frown and a yawn, and he looks between his sister and friend. "I never knew what to think of her…," he remarks. He jerks his head towards the upstairs. "I didn't sleep too well last night, and Rabastan said he has a task he could use Crouch and me for, so…"

Alecto and Thorfinn get to their feet, as well, and the trio exits the dining room. "Don't oversleep," Alecto warns her brother.

He huffs, exchanges a "Do you see what I put up with?" look with Thorfinn, and disappears upstairs for the room the three of them share.

A room Alecto and Wilkes shared, for a time.

Thorfinn turns Alecto towards him. "Malfoy's news—"

"—is just news. You heard what the Dark Lord said," Alecto says. But her tone is too curt, and she shrugs off his hand so obviously. Alecto's not going to talk about Wilkes, not now and not ever.

Barely a week into October, Mulciber and Rosier head out—and Rosier does not return.

Bellatrix rolls her eyes while Mulciber, tears streaking down his face, eyes red, teeth gnashing, kicks at the cabinets and the few pieces of furniture in the foyer. He kicks and punches and whirls on those around him, but Avery catches the back of his robes to keep him from doing anything incredibly stupid.

"That ugly bastard, Moody, was waiting for us! How he found out about that house, I don't know, but Evan—" His voice catches, and he starts kicking and punching wood and fabric again to hide his weakness.

"I will remind you that my own mother is a Rosier, Mulciber," Bellatrix says from the mouth of the black marble hall that leads to the dining room. "He stands a fighting chance…unlike those who come running back with their tails between their legs."

Thorfinn sits on the staircase with Alecto (Amycus is having another of his tired spells, but he assures the pair of them that it's not his childhood frailty returning, he's honestly just exhausted), and the pair watches in amazement as Bellatrix's words, sharper than her nails, prick Mulciber's balloon of anger. The wizard doesn't so much deflate as does he fall to the floor in tatters, confronted with his cowardice.

"There's nothing else to see here," Bellatrix snarls to the rest of them. It's a fine impetus to scatter and leave Avery to be the sensible one for once and pull Mulciber together.

And pull he must when the news arrives a few days later: Evan Rosier gave chase, but he was pursued relentlessly by Auror Alastor Moody. Though the Auror Office discovered by chance that property which the Rosiers hadn't claimed on official documents, Rosier never led Moody to anything or anyone else of importance. And he died while resisting arrest.

Two of them. Dead. In barely more than a week.

Wilkes.

Rosier.

Anyone could be next.

Alecto shares her thoughts this time with Thorfinn, though it feels as though there's not much to share since they're thinking the same things. She waits to open her mouth until they've walked the perimeter of the Lestrange home and can rest against a back corner of the stonework. "…they caught Rosier," she mutters.

Thorfinn nods.

"They killed him." She shivers involuntarily. But it's not the early autumn chill getting to her. Her black robes cover her well and keep Alecto warm.

Still, Thorfinn wraps an arm around her shoulders; Alecto is so tiny, compared to him, that she fits well in the crook of his arm. He peeks down at her. "They did it to him and to Wilkes and to others. They…" He pauses to lick his lips and swallow the lump in his throat. "There could be others, Alecto."

Acknowledging aloud the reality of what they've signed up for doesn't help much. Yet Alecto turns in towards his chest, and there's fire in her eyes. "They're no different from what I've faced before. Those who think they're better, who think their version of the world is better, without stopping to understand the horrors some of us go through…"

He wants to say, "They're not Petronelle," but the comparison is moot and, really, what the Order does is rather worse, isn't it? (But he can't bring himself to say that, not to Alecto, never.)

"These Aurors and Order vermin—they're not going to stop and listen to our side of things."

Thorfinn cocks his head to one side. "No, I don't doubt that."

"But here, Rowle… Here is—comfortable."

He notes the pause in her words. Alecto avoids the use of the word "home" ever since they left Petronelle and the Carrow home behind them. But if she can say "comfortable" in a tone content like this, then Thorfinn will take it. So he nods.

"I need you to make me a promise."

"I've done that before. I can do it again."

"Not like this."

In a rare instance, Thorfinn is the one to pull away, putting two inches between them when he rests his hands on her shoulders and settles Alecto with a stern look. "Alecto, what…?"

She glances to either side of them and then tugs Thorfinn by the hand, away from the Lestrange grounds. Without warning, Alecto Disapparates with Thorfinn.

He's got steady feet for Side-Along, but there are stars to blink from his eyes when he spies their surroundings. After a heartbeat, he calms when he realizes that, no, they're not in his wide-open hometown…but how interesting that Alecto knows of a place so similar. (Does she consider her few visits to the Rowle home fond memories? He wonders.)

Alecto splays her fingers on Thorfinn's chest, drawing his attention back to her. "I couldn't ask it of you there. But, Rowle—I need a promise that, no matter what happens, you will protect Amycus."

He starts to chuckle. "As if that needs a promise! I'll protect you both from the worst, Allie."

"No, Rowle." The fact that she ignores the nickname signals the severity of the situation, and Thorfinn's thrown back to last Halloween with Amycus. She cranes her head up at him. "I know we each accepted the Dark Mark—"

"And would do it again," he interrupts.

"—and I don't regret the work we're doing right now." There's a desperate sparkle in her dark eyes, and she nearly smiles for real. "We're making the world right! Right, for us!" Just as quickly, that light vanishes. "But I never factored into my plans a burial for Amycus. Don't make me go through that."

Thorfinn shakes his head. "Never, Alecto."

"Will you give me a blood oath, to keep him alive, from harm, if things get worse, Rowle?"

His face falls.

Alecto doesn't so much as blink.

"You knew I'd say 'yes,' didn't you?" He asks not because Alecto can count on this dependable side of him.

Finally she lowers her eyes, but she's not ashamed, not really; the hard edge of her jaw gives her away. "Amycus told me about before, yes. …thank you, Rowle."

Thorfinn scowls at the top of her head. He's hurt, of course, and he'd accuse Alecto of using him if only he weren't so accustomed to and comfortable with being her right-hand man.

(This is magic only Alecto Carrow possesses, and she needn't say a word nor think an incantation to hold sway over Thorfinn Rowle's heart.)

He grits his teeth, runs his hand through his hair, and picks at his short coif, as if he needs to be presentable for this occasion. "Of course, Alecto," Thorfinn says at last, with something of a huff. He scans the field of tall grass in which they stand, noticing for the first time that they're not far from a brook which snakes behind this village. "I take it Amycus informed you of the spell's details?"

"He did," Alecto confesses as they head for the brook. She hastens to keep pace with him, since Thorfinn's strides are longer than even Amycus'. She's quiet while he selects a stone from the flowing water. "I wonder why it has to be a stone from moving water, why we can't just use a Slicing Charm."

"Old magic," he huffs. He grabs a stone half the length of his hand and straightens up with a frown. "At least, that's what I recall from Amycus' lectures. Old magic has old ways. Can't be changed." Though Thorfinn agrees she has a point, especially since he must use a Hardening Spell on a thick stick and treat it like a knife to carve the stone into shape. So many unnecessary steps, like with potions.

He works faster than last fall, especially because Thorfinn wonders when they'll be missed back at the Lestranges'. Close to ten minutes of silence pass between him and Alecto while he works, and he's both thankful for the respite from talk and relieved to interrupt the quiet when he finishes.

Thorfinn holds the carved stone out to Alecto. "Do you want the honors?"

Alecto eyes the item and shakes her head, holding her right hand out instead. "I trust you, Rowle."

Those words are a balm on the hurt her request has caused him. Thorfinn nods and imagines the lines he cut into his and Amycus' palms last year. This time, he makes his matching mark with Alecto perpendicular to that with Amycus—after all, "X marks the spot," they say—and he holds her hand after.

Unsurprisingly, Alecto nonverbally invokes the spell. The crimson light from last time doesn't seem so bright in the middle of the day with the sun out. It's almost as if this magic is harmless, as natural as the nature surrounding them.

Thorfinn knows better this time. Nothing came of his oath with Amycus because they never met any obstacles along their way.

But—swearing to keep Amycus alive and well, without any regards for Alecto herself?

Thorfinn wonders if he fights this blood oath's magical rules hard enough, then it might as well be an Unbreakable Vow and kill him.

(Yet Thorfinn frowns in the aftermath of his oath with Alecto, because this blood oath is not unlike her warning at the Lestrange home. He senses at last that Alecto wonders if Thorfinn's truly meant for a Dark life with her and Amycus. That she doubts his business here, with them.

He wants to prove her wrong.

But each day that passes in October feels like a step closer to something larger. No matter that the Death Eaters spread the Order thin. No matter that Edgar Bones is no longer a threat [nor his extended family, since they made an example of him by murdering his wife and children with him, so the rest of the Bones family ought to know better than to get involved]. There are whispers of something larger that the Dark Lord keeps close to his vest and won't divulge even to the likes of Bellatrix, his most loyal follower.

All is revealed on Halloween, however, when the Dark Lord once more carries out a task on his own…

…and a mere baby robs the Death Eaters of their leader, their master, and their security.

In the wake of the Dark Lord's apparent death at the magic of the Potter child, the Death Eaters mostly scatter. Some of them try to continue the Dark Lord's work—the Longbottoms' capture and torture makes the papers shortly afterwards, and wizard [and, to the Death Eaters, known Order member] Caradoc Dearborn is listed as "missing" in The Daily Prophet months after that.

But Thorfinn, Alecto, and Amycus see this as an unexpected turning point. Their hands are already covered in blood, but there's no real work to continue because there's safety in numbers and the Death Eaters don't have those anymore.

What's left for them now?

Alecto, of course, comes up with a plan. "If we keep our heads down, we give the Ministry no need to come looking for us," she tells her wizards as they stick to the shadows and move about cities, mindful both of repulsive Muggles and dogged Aurors and Hit wizards alike.

She says that plainly, and Thorfinn joins them, because the Carrows long ago accepted him as theirs, as a protector, as a friend—as family, he dares to think.

So their trio goes into hiding, for a while together, waiting for the tide to shift in their favor, regardless of how long it may take.)

I knew the oath with Alecto wouldn't come immediately but needed a certain trigger, and some canonical deaths actually provided the right impetus here. :O Altho…in the midst of writing this section of the story, I had to do some rereading of the final chapter of alwy and developed some other hcs… (As in, even more inspiration struck, *LOL*.) Reminder: If you're curious about the name "Petronelle," go read at last, with you. ;)

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this! (Anyone enjoying all the Death Eater namedrops? B3)

~mew

And if you want to support written in your blood, please swing by its FFN and AO3 versions to review/comment/fav/leave kudos and like and reblog these posts on my HariPo fic tumblr!

#hp #harry potter #thorlecto #thorfinn rowle #alecto carrow #<5000 #romance #angst #hurt/comfort #dark magic #rated: PG13 #marauder era #3rd POV #thorlecto: written in your blood

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quoteablebooks · 1 year

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Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal Romance

Rating: 3 out of 5

Trigger Warning:

Summary:

From the bestselling author of Blue Bloods, comes a series that will reinvent the myth of the werewolf in the same way that Blue Bloods did with vampires—with style and NYC flair! Lawson and his brothers escaped from the underworld and now lead desperate, dangerous lives. They’re pursued by the Hounds of Hell from one town to the next, never calling any place home. But when the hounds finally catch up with them and capture the girl Lawson loves, the hunters become the hunted. Lawson will stop at nothing to track down the hounds, even if the chances of saving Tala are slim... The only hope he has lies in Bliss Llewellyn. Bliss, too, has lost someone to the beasts and will do anything to get them back—even if it means joining forces with the insolent, dangerously good-looking boy with a wolf’s soul.

*Opinions*

Wolf Pact is a collection of short stories that chronicle what Bliss Llewellyn was doing after she exited the main series after the events in The Van Alen Legacy and the wolves that she is supposed to bring into the war with the Silver Bloods and Lucifer. I was pleasantly surprised by this collection of stories and the amount I came to care about the new characters that were introduced. While there were still some of the issues I have with the main Blue Blood novels, there wasn’t the same level of annoyance I had with a couple of the novels. Probably because Schuyler wasn’t present at all. Interestingly, de la Cruz keeps expanding the world in short stories and not the main novels. The fact that there are witches and warlocks is added when they are relevant to the plot, but the implication of supernatural creatures other than the vampires is never explored. Maybe if I read The Witches of Eastend series de la Cruz would have gone into more detail, but I don’t think I should have to read a whole other series to see how witches figure into the world. It goes back to my main complaint about the series, there is a lot of interesting information and ideas, but it all feels like an outline that wasn’t expanded on. Well, that and the main character is insufferable. I am happy that we got more time with Bliss, I always liked her character. Lawson and Malcolm were also likable editions to the team and I feel as if Ahramin was interesting. The other named characters were rather forgettable. The relationship between Lawson and Bliss was well done, except I don’t think the near sex in a public place was the best choice. There was a better way to show that they were drawn to each other than one almost hook up that is never discussed again. Especially when they end up as friends and companions without anything romantic between them. In terms of plot, it wasn’t anything to write home about and there were a couple of glaring plot holes (everyone in ancient Rome speaking English is the one I couldn’t get over). As with the regular Blue Blood series, it took a very long time to get where we were eventually going and the payoff was a little lackluster. Still, I liked the characters enough for this to be a three-star read for me. I am hoping that it will all come together in the end and there will be a great payoff to the series, but I’m not going to hold my breath.

#Wolf Pact #Melissa de la Cruz #blue bloods series #book review #booklr

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masqsims4 · 1 year

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Breaking news! Crown Princess Cassana Braieforma Abdicated After Bouts of Violence!

(left) Prince-conjoin Delano Lamia-Braieforma and (right) Crown Princess Cassana Braieforma on their wedding day

After one month of being married and and one week before ascending the throne of the Braieforma Alliance, Crown Princess Cassana Braieforma was asked to step down amid her violent bouts towards other royals.

At the wedding of Count Victor Lamia and Princess-herald Juri Uchibayashi, Cassana Braieforma confronted the newly-wed couple before getting into verbal and physical fights with the bride, groom, and several guests. She taunted the bride, Juri Uchibayashi, for not being able to give Count Victor a male vampiric heir, and then taunted about having already done so. (Rumors will be posted and tagged at the bottom of the article.)

Juri Uchibayashi was taken to the hospital in critical condition, while Count Victor Lamia dueled Cassana Braieforma to cast her out of the wedding and out of the Eighth Bastion forever. As of this publication, Princess Cassana Braieforma is to stay away from the newly-wed couple, their children, family members, and any property belonging to the Eighth Bastion and its royal family.

(right) Count Victor Lamia defeating Princess Cassana Braieforma (right) in a vampiric duel outside the wedding venue

King Francisco and Queen Misao Braieforma, shortly after the wedding, have publicly announced that their eldest daughter will not be taking the throne of the kingdom amid the allegations and scandals. However, being a vampire, Cassana Braieforma cannot be submitted to prison or held in a mental health facility due to her powers and strength, and is strongly considered a flight risk. She is currently living in a separate residence from her family, along with her now ex-husband, Prince-conjoin Delano Braieforma. Her fate will be decided shortly, while the Alliance has also publically announced that the next in line, Prince Archer Braieforma, will be taking the throne next week.

No other comments have been made outside of public appearances and official announcements. The Alliance seems to approve of all courses of action taken so far, and is eager to bring in the next chapter of its royal legacy.

---

Rumor Mill: Former Crown Princess Cheated on her Betrothed?!

The Braieforma Alliance and Prince-conjoin Delano Lamia were so overjoyed when Princess Cassana announced her pregnancy, and then birthed twins! And now they’re saddened to learn that the babies were products of an affair! But then again, it should have been obvious, yeah? Cassana named the twins Vittorico and Viessa, both derived from the name “Victor.” Rumors had been swirling around before then of how Cassana was obsessed with Victor and wanted to marry him instead!

Then, at Victor’s wedding, Cassana taunted and mocked the bride for being unable to give Victor a male vampiric heir, as was tradition for the Lamias. Then, went on to brag that Vittorico was the rightful heir to both Braieforma and the Bastion, and should be king of both when he ages up. (The fact that after Annabelle Bongrin took over two (maybe three) kingdoms is making other monarchs consider doing the same is extremely troubling).

Doing the math, Cassana and Victor would have been seeing each other for at least a year before the twins were born. Delano Lamia must be devastated that his bride would cheat with his half-brother! They divorced shortly after the duel outside of the wedding venue, but he’s staying with her to protect Cassana’s royal family from HER! She’s a master vampire, so no jail or mental hospital can hold her, and she’s strong enough to fight the entire Braieforma Militia by herself! What should happen to her? Does this warrant an execution? Or would exile suffice? Rumors state she’s out of control in rage at this point.

BREAKING NEWS FROM THE RUMOR MILL!: Dr. Juliet Zilvu-Beerloith has personally dropped off twins from her clinic to the Braieforma-Lamia household. According to clinic documents, Cassana Braieforma ordered and provided DNA for science babies to be made and delivered to their household! Yelling and screaming from inside the house seems to indicate Cassana Braieforma did this out of spite to her ex-husband! What an awful woman!

The newborn twins, Everild and Drevon Braieforma-Lamia, have been taken to the Braieforma Castle where they can be cared for and loved, away from their awful and spiteful mother.

#Sixam Royal Family #cheating tw #violence tw

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allxthingsxglxtter · 1 year

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Look who just woke up- is that RISH SHAH? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s DEV DAKKAR from DAUGHTER OF THE DEEP. I heard he is 22 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a OVERACHIEVER, ANGER TURNING TO BITTERNESS, MISSING HIS FAMILY impression. They’re known to be quite CUNNING, but have a tendency to be ARROGANT on their bad days.

Gender/Pronouns

He/Him

How long have they been in Sydney?

Dev’s been in Sydney for about a month

Job

He’s a law student at University of Sydney

Which suburb do they live in?

He shares an apartment in King’s Cross

Memories of their real life :

If you’d asked Dev when he was younger, he would’ve said his life was perfect. A mother and father who loved him, a younger sister he adored, and he felt like that was all he needed. Sure, he always felt under pressure to be perfect, brilliant so that his future could be bright and his parents would be proud of him, but he didn’t mind it. He was determined to be the perfect son and brother that he was supposed to be, and when it came time for him to go off to Harding-Pencroft Academy he didn’t let his family down, promising his parents as much when they went off on some sort of mission for the school when he was fourteen.

All of that shattered when his parents ended up dead on that very same mission, told by one of his Professors that he would never see his parents again but wouldn’t give the details as to why or how. It shattered him, losing them and knowing that now it was just him and Ana. He had to be enough for her now, and figure out what had happened to their parents. The need to know consumed him, and when he found out that anger didn’t go away, it intensified. As it turned out, his entire school was built around protecting the inventions and innovations of Captain Nemo, otherwise known as Prince Dakkar of Bundelkand. Dev’s great-something grandfather. His parents had gone his out in search of his submarine the Nautilus and now they were dead, killed by some sort of malfunction is what he was told. He was also told that as soon as they deemed him old enough, he would be the Captain of the Nautilus, taking over his family’s birthright and helping them protect and keep secret the world-changing technology they had hidden for so long. He was special, as only Dakkar’s could enter or command the Nautilus, and as soon as the Board deemed him ready, he would go into his future being who they wanted him to be. Making his parents proud.

That was the thing though. This didn’t feel like making his parents proud, this plan felt like he was being used for the school’s goals. For their best interest. And they put the pressure on him too. At first he tried to bury that bitterness, throwing himself into his work and achieving the school’s impossible goals. He could be enough. Be who they wanted to he could fulfill his family legacy and do great things. Dr. Hewitt though, he saw through the charm and friendly attitude Dev tried to hold up and saw the anger in him. Dr. Hewitt tried bonding with him, mentoring him, and for awhile it worked. Dev had someone to look up to, who told him of his own mistakes as part of their enemy institution, the Land Institute. They wished to take Nemo’s technology and use it for world domination, or at least that was what Hewitt told him. And when little Ana arrived at the institute when he was 16 he was delighted to have his little sister back. But there was a distance now he felt, that he didn’t think she did. He was angrier, twisted up and bitter still inside even though he tried not to be, and he didn’t know how to be the golden brother she knew.

What finally broke him was his next meeting with the Board. Being informed that he wouldn’t actually be immediately going on to work with the Nautilus and that he’d have to go onto four years of college before he could fulfill his destiny. Four more years of meeting their demands. Four more years of the pressure of perfection. Four more years of proving he was enough.

Dev couldn’t do it. He knew that with a certainty. It was all eating away at him, and the bitterness won out. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and he couldn’t let the group who’d sent his parents to their deaths get out of it unscathed. He reached out to the Land Institute, hatching a plan to destroy the school his parents had given their lives for. And even though he knew his sister wouldn’t understand, he trusted that she’d be able to see why he’d done what he did. He knew no one else would, the friends he’d made and the girlfriend he’d come to love. But Amelia and the others didn’t truly know him, the pain and anger that lived in him, and he knew they’d never defect for the “evil” Land Institute. He planned it for the day his sister would be gone for the trials, and admittedly did try to give the school some warning so as many as were able to evacuate could, but he knew he killed a lot of people when the torpedos launched from that sub he was on and the school crumbled into the ocean destroyed. Those deaths were on him now, but he pushed that away for the true goal. The Nautilus. His sister and those freshman led him right to it, but what he didn’t anticipate was their escape.

Nor did he anticipate the fight Ana would put up. Or the fact that she would fight him once she knew he wasn’t dead. She instead took over the Nautilus, the birthright he’d been promised and worked for, and beat him and the Land Institute. Every plan to destroy Harding-Pencroft gone and done, leaving Dev at the mercy of the sister he’d let down. The school he’d fought hard to destroy, and he expected all of their vengeance to be brutal and swift. The school’s punishments had always been aggressive before, and he expected nothing but torture for decidedly not being what they’d wanted him to be. Instead, Ana showed him mercy. Telling him she didn’t know what the future held, but bringing him onto the Nautilus, the magnificent vessel that was now hers and never his. And showing him the resting place of their parents and loved ones, and Dev couldn’t help but break all over again because of all they’d lost. And because of the one truth he’d avoided and was now agonizingly faced with.

He’d never be enough.

What was their fake life like?

TBD

#This is why we can't have nice things: Dev Dakkar #thebridge: intro

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