#Don't sacrifice or risk your family for him but don't leave him behind either...

[thelostgirl21]

Okay, I've just gotta say though...

Imagine that you think you've fallen in love with some evil mastermind that only ever pretended to love you to gain power for himself!

Then, shortly after, you hear some sniffling coming from the corner of a room while searching for your family, and randomly find said "evil mastermind" looking like this:

Radovid's main casting requirement: being able to look so small, vulnerable, soft, lost, and hurt, that it'll have some members of the audience yelling "Jaskier, you better fix this right now, you big meanie! Or I'll never forgive you!" at their screen!

Basically,

Me, before season 3: "I don't think I'll ever be able to feel as protective of any character in any TV show ever as I do of Jaskier."

Radovid: "Hold my wine bottle, I've got this!"

Me, after season 3: "I now have this strange urge to throttle that bard if he ever hurts that one again... What the fuck is going on?"

[streets-in-paradise]

Concealed Fighter - Hector x Wife!Reader/ Achilles x Captive!Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Warnings: Manipulative woman twisting the power dynamics of captivity while her master tries to seduce her.

Summary: Reader is the wife of Hector ( they got married after he returns from Sparta) and she sacrifices herself to protect Briseis. As a captive of the greeks given to Achilles, then stolen by Agamemnon, she takes the only advantage of the situation she has to actively assume a role of destabilizing agent and wreck the enemy from the inside.

However, the life on the greek camp also leaves its effect on her putting the self assumed mission at risk when the persuation tactics turn against her due to the awakening of desire in his original captor. Achilles refuses to fight for the greeks because of her, but if he gets her back he will try anything in his power to convince her of willingly staying with him.

Tags: @thorssweetheart ( I wrote this one for you. It's not completely dark, but I mixed a bit of my tone with yours here.)

Glossary of homeric terms: Atreide - Means son of Atreus, a way to reference either Agamemnon or Menelaus.

Scaean Gate - Name of the main gate of Troy

When your father in law instructed you to follow Briseis for the religious rituals that morning, it was out of the pure intention of helping you adjust to the functions expected of royalty in your cultural context. Freshly made a princess through a blissfull marriage to his eldest son, you were starting to get comfortable in that role and wanted to impress him in order to make your husband proud. His cousin was the high priestess of the family, but that wasn't an excuse excempting you from the obligation of participating in particular occasions that were regarded traditional for any future queen. Desperate times required of commited attention to that sort of thing, but none of you imagined you would reach the bottom of desperation during the very same action.

The prayers were forever silenced with the arrival of the greeks, dreaded moment unleashing the war taking place at the worst possible timing as you were trapped in the middle of a carnage that was also an obscene act of profanity. Despite the quick reaction of the troops, the temple never stood a chance against the enemy. Myrmidon soldiers had slaughtered the priests, only Briseis and you remained alive as shocked observants in a temporal hidding place that you knew won't stand much longer.

You were a princess of Troy, the queen of Hector's future reign, and you had came to that temple under the purpose of acting as such in the first place. To show your subjects you would do anything to protect them, first you had to start saving your family.

Context demmanded you to act quick, so you came up with a risky plan that you explained to Briseis in whispers while cleaning her tears.

" I'll clear the way for you, run and find Hector. Don't waste time turning back, they will get you."

The pragmatical, almost cold sounding way in which you phrased the idea ruined her nerves even more. She didn't want to leave you behind, Briseis would never accept it no matter how logical you were trying to be.

She refused nodding negatively, too afraid to take the risk of speaking.

" Do it, there is no other way. If we stay together, then we are all doomed. There is hope for only one of us, and I rather it will be you." You insisted, attempting to give further reasons to your sacrifice that would make her feel less guilty. " They will pay for this, I promise you. "

You grabbed her arms like a wake up call before continuing.

" Briseis, I'm giving myself willingly because it's the only way to get one of us inside the camp. Do you see what they can do? Traditional means will not be enough to defeat them, someone has to discover how. "

Fear was starting to make your voice tremble as you thought of your city, your family ... your husband.

" Tell Hector, tell him I'm loyal and I'll return to him with the secret to destroy the greeks ... Tell him I love him and I will do whatever it takes to help our cause."

After a brief, emotive farewell she accepted to execute the plan according to your guidance. The distraction turned out successfull, since the soldiers rushed to take you while she sneaked under their noses given all the fuss you were making. The next thing you knew was being tied up alongside piles of stolen gold inside the recently settled tent of who you guessed was one of their captains.

The master didn't make you wait for long, finding you as a surprise of his men for him when he arrived to clean off the traces of the fight in his appearance. Strong first impressions were his thing, he was standing naked in front of you apparently careless for your presence. The spectacle didn't obtain any reaction, even when he asked for your name.

" You will pay for what you did. " Was your bitter reply inconected to the question." Hector will make you regret the day you were born. "

The grim warning made him chuckle.

" I think your prince is afraid of me, he sees there is no hope for Troy if i charge into battle. "

With one simple mock he had made you aware of everything.

" You must be Achilles … Lucky of mine, I'm being handed to the worst of the savages. "

" My well earned prize. " He confirmed while getting dressed, barely tying a long piece of black cloth arround his hips. " It was either me or Ajax, we were the ones winning the battle. I have obtained greater glory, so I got the ríght to keep you. "

" Shouldn't that be a privilege of the higher commander?" You taunted him, questioning in a poisonous tone. " … He is not going to like it."

The provokation hitted in the ríght spot to make him itch.

" Then he should have won the battle by himself. " Was his cocky reply, given while walking towards you. " … You are too precious to be given away. "

You could tell where the talk was leading, it was a complete twist of the provocative intentions into a territory you weren't allowing him to cross.

" The only priestess inside that temple ran away, i'm a married woman. "

The clarification didn't mean much to him.

" An eye for an eye. " He simplified, twirling your hair in his fingertips. " The trojan prince took Helen, so it's fair for me to take you. "

Achilles was dangerously close, sniffing the scent of your locks.

" She left her husband willingly. " You clarified on purpose. " Paris won her favors."

He caressed the side of your cheek while looking for cuts.

" After a while with me you won't want to leave. " He purred seductively, then proceeded to untie you. " … I like your perfume, it seems he pays for the expensive ones. "

" High nobility, my father is a general of Priam. " You bitterly clarified. " … And i'm married to a mighty warlord. "

You would have wanted to brag about that saying loud and clear that you were the wife of Hector. If it wouldn't be so dangerous, you would have seeked to humilliate him showing your love for your man.

" He failed to protect you, maybe he was not the right for you. " He mercilessly teased you, sitting ríght next to you. " What's your name? "

You had to give him an answer, but you were incapable of being honest. The greeks couldn't possibly know already of your marriage. Their access to news was blocked at the time of your wedding, they were planning the war while it happened.

Briseis escaped to tell the story, Hector had to be aware by then so you didn't need the greeks to bring him the news. Keeping your identity as a secret was safer and a good strategy. As a couple, your husband and you would get the upper hand working against them from outside and inside.

You gave him the very first name that occured to you, a female variation of the name of your father.

" Glauce. "

Achilles had his full attention on you, his eyes were roaming your features with interest.

" Well, Glauce. I'll take care of you better than him. Your safety is granted with me. "

It sounded like a promise, you could tell he didn't want you to fear him. Being perceived as a careless monster by you wasn't as satisfying as the fear he awakened in your countrymen.

The first impression played in your favor, he was Interested enough to seek winning your simpathy. There had to be some sort of limit to his brutality and it seemed to play out in his approach to women. Achilles preferred seduction to coercion, trusting in his looks and charm to do the trick. Softer on the surface, he would rather win you over than force himself on a tied up defensless woman.

At least in that, he was a safer bet than many others. Your chances to keep working on the reading of the greek commanders presented that very same day, when your initial guesses turned out to be truth and his promised was challenged.

Agamemnon felt insulted because his rebel soldier ignored him on purpose and didn't even consider him at the time to divide the profits. His heralds came to take you using the advantage of a distraction the king created by himself to keep Achilles away from you at the moment. They were very impressed to find out you were following them willingly.

Not only it was a matter of principles to never show weakness in front of the enemy, but you were also considering the greek King of Kings was a privileged source of information. There was no better tent to infiltrate if what you wanted was to figure out the patterns of the political relationships within the militar fractions of his army. For so, your entrance managed to exceede any expectations. The soldiers taking you there were disconcerted following your arrogant steps.

Behaviorally wise, you looked like a queen that was heading to negotiate instead of a living object being dragged from one place to the other. Agamemnon was slightly dissapointed, probably hoping the guards would have seen themselves forced to mistreat you in front of Achilles to enrage him even more. However, the visual did manage to surprise him. The taunting smirk didn't fade, only changed its target.

" Wonderfull reward … Even in disgrace her majestuosity remains intact. " He commented, praising you in a menacing tone. " … Woman fitting for a king. And since you aren't one, Achilles. I think you are not going to need her. "

It unleashed the killer beast.

In a matter of instants the whole place got surrounded by guards that Agamemnon called as soon as Achilles merely pulled out his sword, what to you was a measure against the feared quickness of his lethal strikes.

You were still smiling to yourself, thinking of how accidentally accurate the words of the mycenaean have been in what concerned you given Hector was the next king of Troy in the line of succession.

The myrmidon claimed so quickly and pridefully that your husband lost you because he wasn't strong enough to protect you, yet he couldn't keep you for one full day. Delightfully humilliating irony, even if the man missing you inside the city remained faceless to him. At that moment Achilles was measuring himself not only with Agamemnon's power, but also with the memory of the man you loved.

He wanted you to watch him murder greeks in cold blood for you, to prove his point of being the superior man that would cross límits no trojan would.

For as much as you would have loved to see enemies being sacrificed at your feet, you were Interested in something better.

Playing with their minds, taking advantage of the situation and subtly lead the discussion while making them feel in control the whole time.

" I've seen you are a gifted killer, they may have the numerical advantage but those men are trembling. " You stopped him, actually walking towards him with the courage the mycenaean soldiers lacked of. " Before you will unleash another carnage, let's revisit the situation. Shall we?"

Agamemnon was amused by your irreverence, mostly because it was being directed towards his polítical rival.

" I come from a militar family, so i'm not ignorant to the codes of war. " You kept talking as if you would be back in Troy discussing with Hector about the resolutions of the city's council. " Spoils of conquest shall be distributed equally among the warlords, but the commander chief has ríght to a bigger share. "

" Precisely what I'm reclaiming. " The mycenaean agreed. " I'm in command here. "

Unimpressed by the statement, you were ready to throw the web.

" … Considering Achilles has beheaded a monumental golden statue of Apollo. How can you both be so convinced i'm the biggest share of the treasure? You can buy at least fifteen women for that statue only. I have to admit it's flattering, your altercate implies i'm either worth for fifteen women or you greeks are terrible traders. "

The rational observation embarrased them. Achilles had putted down his sword and Agamemnon didn't have enough recovered honor to point it out.

" It's simbolical value. " He attempted to come up with a quick answer for what trully was nothing more than a battle of egos. " You are the first enemy woman in our power, captive of a war started by my brother's wife. "

" If she wouldn't have jumped on board, you would have instructed servants to charge spartan reliques in that ship so you could frame us and invade anyways. " Was your fearless comeback. " Maybe your provincial soldiers believe that, but trojans know you well. "

If they wouldn't know better, they would have feared the goddess of wisedown transfigurated in a slave was lecturing their behavior.

" Theorically, once you finish arguing over who is meant to own me the winner can do whatever he wants with me. The problem is what you should do in order to serve best your personal interest. Achilles is willing to slaugther your men to save me from you. Can you afford that, King of Kings? "

Agamemnon was frankly shocked, not even his royal advisors would have been so direct.

" Who are you? "

" That's not important, what matters here is that i'm aware of what you both want from me and why you won't get it." You cleverly deviated. "For instance, you want to force yourself on me to give your rebel soldier a lesson. I see it in your eyes, sense it in your voice. He made you feel powerless watching the beach battle from afar, so now you are taking me as payback. Fortunately, that's going to take you nowhere. "

Going back to the warrior like a caged beast pacing from one point to the other, you challenged him with the same ferocity.

" As it could be said of your attempts to present yourself as my savior. " You concluded for him. " Legends fail to acknowledge Achilles as a protector of helpless women and it's not hard to wonder why. You aren't acting out of the kindness of your heart, what you want is to keep me reliant on you in order to win my trust so I will eventually give in. "

At that point, despite it would have been wiser to keep silence, no one could have stopped you.

" Keep the sword down, i'm not spreading my legs for this. I despise you and that won't change simply because you are the less of two evils standing in front your pig of a king. "

The comparison had affected him as much as the self perceived unfair claims.

" He is not my king … and i'm not who you think I am. "

" Prove it. " You insisted. " Untill then, you are just the same to me. "

The provocation worked better than you could have expected, discovering there that what Achilles hated the most was being compared to Agamemnon. It carved over the fresh wound of the anger he was already feeling about the desestimation of his efforts in the war.

A fierce lion had turned into a meowing kitten when the master he reluctantly followed took away his slave, humilliation you wished you could have shared with your people as perfect payment for the destruction of the temple. From then, his efforts were focused on showing the greeks that he wouldn't accept being controlled while proving to you that he was the better man. The special weapon of the enemy had opted for inaction as a form of protest, refusing to fight untill Agamemnon would come back crawling expecting he would beg to him ... expecting to get you back.

Coldess of mind was your best weapon against them, their fates were already on your hands. Agamemnon was too haunted by the warning you made him to actively seek to fullfill the full punishment, since Achilles was being completely serious about his thirst for revenge and for having you. The little glimpses of yourself he managed to figure out from your brief talk and the interventions you have made in their fight weren't enough, his interest only had escalated since then.

Without him, greeks lost, and they lost badly. Hector deprived them of two leaders during the course of the same battle, one of them being the husband of Helen whose cause gathered everyone. They were running out of excuses, starting to point fingers at each other attributing blames where those didn't necesarily belong. On his part, Agamemnon saw the warning you have made him the day before becoming real and sensed something almost supernatural in it. Of course, he was completely unaware that the crushing lost was a result of his own stubborness and the team work of the heir couple of the trojan throne.

Even trojans themselves weren't completely aware that Hector and you could sometimes become your own separated fraction operating underneath the obstacles presented by the local politics. No matter what the council presided by his father would dictaminate, you would allways have his back to do what you knew was right. Even while being so far away from each other, the combination of your strikes was making the greeks bleed despite you haven't had any ocassion of discussing the course of action. You knew each other too well, in a fair world you would have been designing strategies with him in front of the army and not against their backs.

Hidding your adoration while overhearing the feats of your husband as you poured wine for the kings was your main challenge during that post battle night among the greeks. They were already discussing rendition, all thanks to the fear that he inspired. It was clear that you would have to handle yourself finding a scape way if that would happen, but you were amazed seeing your goal at the verge of fullfillment. Agamemnon recklessly kept you there as a symbol of the only victory they had achieved, showing you off to the commanders in an attempt to tempt them to stay exciting their greed. He presented you as a promise of future wealthness, if they would pass the hardships every chief would have one like you.

Odysseus was completely careless for that and trying to make the myceanean come to his senses was hard even for his audacious mind. At that hour of the night, only him and Nestor remained in the Atreide's tent and only one particular moment during his long callout catched your attention.

" Hector is ONE man ... Look at what he did to us today! "

You were forced to hide your flusterred smile full of pride for your man and you did through a humble gesture bowing the head.

They kept arguing for a while, two against the stubborness of one.

" Even if I could make peace with Achilles, the man won't listen to me! " Agamemnon reminded them with frustration, the wine you were serving him non stop starting to hit him. " He is as likely to SPEAR ME as to SPEAK TO ME! "

You chuckled briefly and Nestor noticed it while awaiting or Odysseus' resolution.

" ... I will talk to him. "

Once that part got resolved, the old king reminded them of you.

" He will want her back."

The mention gave you a proper space for according intromission.

" I will pack my things ... I mean, just the blue dress I was wearing when you kidnapped me. " You mordaciously commented. " Can I change back into it or your plan is to send me looking like this hoping I would have the kindness of whoring myself to save you? "

The taunting ask pointed at the uncomfortable suggestive dressing the king forced you to wear for his visits.

" I haven't touched her! " Agamemnon excused himself to his friends. " Take her back to him or I will give her to the men, the whore is cursed and I will not take the risk. "

He refused to explain further, but you did for him.

" His brother made a curious joke last night when we meet. He said that it would be his right to go first because he was the one that trojans had ofended, now he is dead ... And how about Ajax? He was the second in line who could have got me as reward, if the glory of Achilles wouldn't have outshined him. I think Apollo is using me to pick the victims of Hector, maybe desecrating the temple of a god we both worship wasn't a brilliant idea after all. "

The macabre warnings upsetted the myceanean king.

" Take her now, Odysseus. If he wants her still, she is all his. "

The king of Ithaca didn't wait any longer, instructing you to only pick up your dress and put on a cloak he handled you in order to comfortably follow him to the tents of the myrmidons.

As soon as you were out of sight the tries on guessing you began.

"These are not virgin robes. " He cassually commented about the clothes you were carrying. " It means you are not a priestess, so what were you doing that morning in the temple? "

" Pouring thracian wine to the priests. " You sarcastically mocked him. " Isn't a bit obvious I was witnessing a religious ceremony? "

" Obligation of female royals in times of war, women are commaned to pray while the men prepare to fight. " He quickly replicated. " Wives of royalty preach with the example. "

You stopped walking right away.

" What has given me away? "

" Your smile, the way your eyes shine with pride when we talk of Hector. It's true that any trojan gets excited hearing of him, but you don't look like one more of the people who worships him as the city's hero. " He began to explain you. " The eyes of Penelope shine the same way when I tell her my stories after coming back home from a long journey. "

The melancholic husband couldn't be forgiving you out of the kindness of his heart and a mere parallel with his wife.

" Why aren't you warning them? "

" Because I know Agamemnon wouldn't have agreed to return you and right now, all we need is to have Achilles back." Was his simple reason. " If you want my honest advice, girl? Your husband should have came with a ransom by now. He hasn't, and to me it feels he is letting you go because he can't stand the shame. Even if he does love you and would rather have you by his side, the city may have resolved it that way. The heir prince, the bastion of Troy ... he can't come back home with a marked woman. "

He was good, doing an excellent job at sowing doubts.

" Your stance here has stained you, people would look at you wondering how many greek generals had laid their hands on you. Even when we know that no one has touched you, they will never believe it back in Troy and Priam's dinasty is in crisis. It would be easier and politically safer for him to arrange a new marriage for Hector."

" The same king that's sending him to fight so Paris can keep his wife won't do that to me. " You snarked back, clinging to what were your certainties. " They may be religious hypocrites, but I know my people better than you. "

" Adjust to your new life, princess. " He grimly warned you. " The prince may never come to save you and the myrmidons could use a clever girl keeping their hot headed mess of a leader grounded. "

You spat on the ground, right at the side of his feet.

" He will rot in his tent and Hector will set your ships on fire to rescue me. "

A young lad gave you the welcome, warning your master of the arrival.

Achilles smiled at you, but responded to Odysseus with the same carelessness he had dedicated to Agamemnon days before.

" Whatever you have to say can wait untill the morning." He told him in a cold tone. " I want to speak with her ... alone. "

Not wanting to make a fuss that could ruin the mission, the ithacan king acceded to his demmand.

" Understandable, I will be ouside with Patroclus so the walk won't be in vain. " He mocked him. "I could use a drink now, and hear some positivity. The last time I was in Phtia I have seen your cousin is great at that. "

The young man chuckled and accompanied him outside, presumably for a chat arround the campfire of the night watchers. Before they left, Achilles ordered him dinner would be served to you and he called two other myrmidons to arrange it.

You didn't seem mistreated and that was encouraging for him, so he gesturally invited you to sit in front of him and served you by himself.

" Eat."

" Mind to tell me the reason for this? " You cutted off his attempt of soft approach. " Agamemnon didn't touch me, I think it's fair to say he is slightly afraid of me. You don't have wounds to tend, no need to fake kindness."

" I'm just trying to be a decent host." Was his vague reply. " You are my guest tonight."

" Odysseus was your guest, and you had kicked him out. I'm your prisoner. " You reminded him. " I had enough of your games, Achilles."

" Such a shame, I'm very into yours. " He teased you. " What do you think of all of this? One day has passed and they already brought you back to me. I'm feeling destiny playing a move here. "

You began to eat so you wouldn't have to reply him right away.

" Why do you care ? I'm a nobody. "

" You are not under the orders of Agamemnon, you are the onlyone besides from me with the courage to stand up against him. "

The facts were conveniently twisted and you knew of that.

" I also stood up to you. "

" And i don't forget that. " He corrected you. " ... Trust me, I had plenty of time alone to think about you."

The provocation was not going to disarm you.

" I believe it shows how desperate they are, and that you would be a fool if you stop now. The mycenaean king is not at your feet yet, he stil sends heralds to make his apologies. Make them wait some more, it will give us time to get to know each other."

He smirked and you couldn't tell which part of the answer made it.

" You are good, diligent little snake. It almost makes me want to take the advice just to see how far you can go to keep me away from your husband. "

He offered you a goblet to drink, making it reach your mouth with the movement of his hand so he could have an excuse to stare at your lips during the first sip.

" Why trying so hard? Have you considered he could be dead by now? "

" He is the kind of man you find once in a lifetime, I would remain loyal to him even after death simply because he worths it. " You explained him. " I don't expect you to understand it, your world is seducing war captives. Maybe you have never thought of that, having a wife to love for the rest of your life. Form a family, somewhere to belong in."

Your blow hitted, even when he won't admit it and opted for strike another one.

" Is he alone with the children now? "

" We didn't get time for that, he was part of the crew that travelled to Sparta and we got married once he came back." You vaguely admitted, being carefull of not giving any revealing clue. " It was the happiest moment of my life, even despite we knew what was coming. The city was cheerfull for a while right before all of this got to happen, our wedding party was the last time. "

For an instant he took the effort of imagining you on your wedding dress heading inside the temple of Hera. He had no idea of how trojan weddings were like, neither knew their fashion trends for brides, so he pictured it the greek way.

Lucky of the man that got to experience that. To remove your veil and find a smiling face at the other side, to kiss your lips ... To find you laying naked on the thalamus knowing you were waiting for him after the maidens holding torches guided you inside to be beautified for him. Asian scents flooding the air, your body of trembling virgin craving to be explored.

" I have been in Sparta, if he was a guest of Menelaus let me tell you that he cheated on you. " He interrupted you out of spite. " The hipocrite that reclaimed his cheater wife actually encourages it on the men visiting him and the dancers of his palace perform amatory wonders. "

A challenging smirk showed how little you cared for his disruptive opinion.

" My man is not like that. He would NEVER cheat on me. "

He chuckled with skepticism and you wished you could have smacked him.

" How sweet! You really are convinced he is different. "

It enerved you to the core.

" You don't know him like i do."

He was enjoying your rage, even when directed against him.

" You don't know Sparta like I do. "

You wanted to him to spite him for real.

" My husband is a hundred times the man you will never be. "

The peak of the altercate was something you wouldn't expected he would dare to say.

" Your husband will never touch you like i would."

Angry as you were, you lost control and slapped him. Fear of his reaction made you back off inmediately: it was the first moment of weakness he had ever witnessed from you.

" You are fierce, I like that. " He commented, careless for the hit. " Was he really that good? Or is it just that you can't compare? "

" You will never compare to him. " Was your quick comeback. " From no point of observation, he is simply the best. "

Even when he didn't know who the mysterious man was, he already hated him. Achilles was genuinely jealous of your love for him, he would have killed for someone like that.

To calm the hostile enviroment he decided to torture himself making you talk more.

" Really? Tell me about him … How did you meet? "

" Our parents are best friends, so we have known each other for a lifetime." You began to narrate. " I think I realized I had a crush on him when I was ten and it followed me all my life. As a young lass I used to believe I could never be the one, wasted so many years thinking he could only want me as a friend. He would never make a move, thinking that was not what I desired for the same reason and we kept each other single untill an unreasonable age. Then, a suitor with great chances of success came to the city soliciting to marry me and the situation forced us to be honest with our feelings. He came to my home with a huge treasure as dowry, told me he couldn't live without me, and kissed me in front of everyone. If you would know him, you would understand that was a huge gesture coming from him. He is a private man in terms of affection displays … "

" The term you are looking for is repressed. " Achilles mocked you. " Why making you wait for so long? "

" These are dangerous political times we are living in and you greeks aren't our only enemies. " You corrected him. " He was always fighting, life was too bussy to think of romance. "

" … And it seems like that hasn't changed. " He added before taking a long sip of his wine, then keep questioning. " How do you deal with it? How would you receive him when he just came back from battle? "

It was a strange ask,but for once you didn't mind indulging him.

" With a warm bath and all my love … Although I must clarify we haven't live wartimes as a married couple yet, since you kidnapped me at the start of one. If I was back in Troy with him, as I desire, that's what I would do. "

There was no intention of playing with him, you were telling the truth because you were starting to feel comfortable and he realized of that.

It only made him more envíous.

" Lovely, so lovely. " He whispered, talking to you but sounding as if he was talking to himself. " My tent isn't as big as Agamemnon's, so you must be aware your only option tonight is sleeping by my side. Why don't you start by taking off that ugly cloak, now that we are more relaxed ? "

If that was what he wanted, you were going to give him a taste of his own poison.

" I must warn you: the old pig dressed me to his taste. " You answered as you stood up to remove the long cloth. " What do you think? Do I look like one of those girls you claim my husband has cheated with prior to the wedding? "

Achilles watched you in silence for an instant.

" Way better. " He concluded, then gifted you a smirk.

You were ready to hear whatever lustfull comment that would occure to him, but that wasn't what he ended up delivering.

" I don't want a concubine, I want that trojan's wife. She sounds wonderfull, and looks wonderfull in her cute blue dress. "

Surprisingly sweet, it trully caught you out of guard.

" You are out of your mind, or have drank too much and it got to your head. In either case, you need to rest so the morning will bring you clarity of thought. "

His teasing became a bit childish.

" Come with me … "

You couldn't take him seriously.

" Let me interrupt your little fantasy: i still love my husband and you are keeping me prisoner. "

" Not if i make you want to stay. " He replicated ríght away. " Paris got Helen to leave hers and their kingdom for him. "

You couldn't believe your ears. Was he really that much starved for affection? The greatest warrior of the greeks was a lonely man, a living weapon.

" That's never going to happen between us. "

After you concluded the meal he gave you proper space to change your clothes in privacy, courtesy that satisfied you given what was about to come. Once he settled the furrs on the ground to make the closest thing to a bed available in the camp, he picked a blanket and invited you to get confortable first. In the meantime, he took off his footwear and upper garments in front of you. The spectacle made you turn over to the opposite side, deviating your eyes from him completely, but that simple act of resistance didn't mean much compared with what he was about to do.

Achilles grabbed you from behind, trapping you in an embrace too íntimate for your taste. His strong arm was rou nding your waist, initially ríght under your chest. You were perfectly able to feel his firm muscles in contact with your back and the hand keeping you secure in the position he wanted started tracing your curves.

You wanted to yelp, but it was pointless. What else could you do? You were his slave, and sleeping anywhere else in the camp was even riskier.

Maybe other man finding you wouldn't be as sweet as him. Peraphs you would encounter a beast forcing you to fight for your honor.

" So beautifull. " He whispered close to your ear. " Feels really good to me … How are you feeling? "

" Strange. " You confessed. " It just doesn't feel ríght. "

" It doesn't have to. " He teased you. " It just has to feel good. "

He began to kiss the side of your neck, but kept stumbling with your cold reactions. To him it was all performance, you were holding back to feel a faithful wife for a man that from then would be just a memory because you would most likely never see him again.

" You are mine now … " He reminded you in a husky tone. " Stop pretending, I know you feel good. No need to hide it. "

You weren't giving in, but he was willing to take the challenge. Distracted as he was with you, he kept the refusal to fight still on given that his pride wasn't completely avenged and that was at least hopefull result of your sacrifice. Every single night he would try to tempt you, but you remained strong deviating the seduction tactics into night talks with no sort of filter on both sides. He would ask you all kinds of innapropiate questions, but in response he would have to tell you more about him than what he could afford to tell any enemy.

The mission became harder and harder to mantain over the course of the days. You were happy to be serving your country but wondering if the cost was actually worthy. Achilles seemed determinated to keep you, he wanted to destroy your marriage and there were moments when you wondered if he haven't already done it.

Would the love of your life want you back, knowing you were forced to share the bed of the enemy? Even if your strong resistance kept things away of sexual territory, you had to stand his caressing, his kissing … and sometimes you weren't completely disgusted by it.

It was confusing, you were the one playing with a man who fooloshly believed to have power over you, but you also felt played by the situation. Staying focused was hard when everything seemed to point out Odysseus was in the ríght. There were no signs of your people, of your husband, wanting to reach you. Could have he forgot you? Have the city gave up on you?

One particularly long night you were sitting on the shore watching the sea and the fear became so strong that you began to sob uncontrollably. Achilles wasn't coming for you yet, since in his tent more embassors of Agamemnon were trying to convince him of returning to the battlefield.

Suddenly, a myrmidon in full armor sat beside you. The helmet was on, so you couldn't see his face, but you guessed he was one of the guards of the night shift.

" Beautifull night, isn't it? " He said in a familiar voice. " Perfect for a sneakout … "

You couldn't believe your ears.

" Paris? " You questioned in whispers soft enough to not be heard by anyone else, but showing clear excitement. " How did you got here? Brother, you can't fight even to save your life. Is a miracle you are still alive. "

" I may be a terrible fighter, but i'm a master in the art of sneaking into the most unbelievable places. " He explained you. " Glaucus is so desperate that he didn't present objections to the plan, your father trully adores you. "

You wanted to hug him, but that would have been too suspicious.

" You are insane! What if they discover you? "

" I have that covered. I'm trying to redeem myself at the eyes of our people, but if the worst happens i'm going to do what i know best: cry to my brother for salvation. "

A hopefull smile made your sadness fade.

" Hector, … Is he with you? "

" Of course he is! Who else would have faith in my stupid plans?" Paris mocked himself. " He loves you soo much. He has been loosing his mind since the first day without you, but presenting a ransom to the greeks was a risk. From the moment they would be aware you are his wife, it would be over. They would have refused to return you and submitted you to all kinds of humilliations. No, with them you always have to do things by force. "

He made you chuckle.

" Any idea of how are we going to escape? "

" Working on it, just act natural and follow me. "

Your heart beated fast the whole way, since you were the one guiding Paris using your greater knowledge of the camp's structure. The myrmidons were ubicated at one extreme, what made things somewhat easier, as the naturalization of your presence there did.

A man in a mycenaean armor awaited for you, his eyes were giving him away.

" Don't, not yet. " Hector warned you, since he could read your uncontrollable excitement to the sight of him. " Danger hasn't passed. Proper welcomes should be postponed untill we are safe. "

You still dared to express a bit of your lovefull gratitude.

" I knew it! I knew you would come, I never wanted to stop believing! "

" Have they tried to convince you of that? " He wondered out loud. " I knew it had to be you causing division among them since the very first time the myrmidons didn't show up and I couldn't be prouder. "

Passing through the Scaean Gate was living again, you were at home. As soon as the walls were sheltering you Hector held you in his arms and kissed you untill both of you were feeling breathless. The wonderfull moment felt to you like a renewal of your vows, he had the same surprising lack of decorum he showed the day he asked for your hand. Instead of your happyly shocked family, his brother and some trojan soldiers were the ones left to witness it.

He would never stop amazing you, the insightfull understanding of what you have gone through that your husband was showing since your first instants of rencounter made you love him even more. Hector new that you didn't want to present yourself to your parents looking and feeling like a captive, they wanted their daughter back and you wanted to be her again.

Before presenting yourself in public, you needed to feel like yourself. To get back the identity your captors tried to strip you from. It was most likely that the citizens would overwhelm you with questions, the militar council wanting to extract every single drop of information about the greek camp that you had adquired and all of that was very important, but he cared about you the most.

Putting the princess and the spy aside, he wanted to trully reunite with his wife and help her heal before the weight of the city would fall upon her. Some of the servants of your household were awakened for the ocassion and they welcomed you quietly under the prince's recommedation of not disturbing you. They helped Hector out of what was left of his disguise and he returned to his cassual wearing for home.

Once he looked like your husband again, he turned back to face you with an adorable smile.

" Welcome home, my love. For the sacrifice you have endured it is my wish to make of what's left from this night a moment to comfort you in any and every way you desire. If you don't want to talk about the horrors, I'm willing to wait. "

" I want a bath, I stink of sand and greeks. " You joked to attenuate the tone of he conversation. " Is this how you feel after fighting? "

He chuckled a bit, taking your light talk as a good sign.

" You were a concealed fighter, peraphs the most important fighter in this war. " He lovefully praised you. " It takes courage and a great speed for decision making to come up with such insane attack strategy. You cleverly realized there was no chance for two women to get away from the temple and offered yourself to save my cousin. When we found her, she repeated me the last words you told her. Your wisedown surpasses our war council, you knew from the beggining what I'm trying to make them understand. "

" Well, I knew that as a slave girl I was going to get underestimated, but it worked even better than what I guessed. Greeks are surprisingly trustfull of their war prizes or think themselves too high for vengeances to reach them " You humbly admitted. " In me they saw an object to move from one point to the other, but never suspected they could be touring a spy arround. I poured wine for the kings while they were discussing their plans, Agamemnon found no danger in that because he considered me to be merely decorative. "

" Sounds like the riskier war feat I have ever heard of. " He added, then caressed your cheeks as he inspected your face for any signs of damage. " It seems like they trully thought they were going to enjoy of my wife's beauty for long. I can tell they were carefull. "

" They were too bussy fighting each other over who was going to keep me to ask me important questions of any kind. " You revelaed him with amusement. " Only Odysseus discovered it, but he got there too late. Achilles was already eating out of my palm."

The confession surprised him.

" Meaning you have targeted him all this time? "

" He is rabidly jealous of you." You confessed, teasing him. " I discovered that the main obstacle of Agamemnon is his fail to make him act according to his goals. His attempts to manipulate him are rational, but Achilles can only be persuaded irrationaly. "

The start of your tale wasn't worrying him the way you feared.

" Nothing really happened between us. " You rushed to clarify, since he wasn't asking. " He wanted it to happen, but i made him very aware that my husband was in my mind and heart the whole time. "

Your desperation for proving yourself to him was heartwrecking, he could tell you were so full of guilt over a situation that wasn't trully in your control. Even if you played to be, the course of action was limited to the grey zones where the control of men was weaker.

" You were loyal to my vision to the last consequencies, despite you had no guarantee of safety. " He cutted you off. " Many of the men I command claim that they would die for me, but what you did goes beyond their will of sacrifice. This is the greatest proof of love to me and to Troy. "

Tears were falling down your cheeks and he instinctively held you in his arms, as if he feared you would wreck if he didn't.

" What you did to survive is not of my concern, you are here with me now. " He reassured you, making you smile. " But if someone got to hurt you, the bastard responsible for that damage won't see the sun again."

" I think i never saw you making threats like that. " You sweetly mocked him. " It's flattering, but turns out you have been protecting me against it from afar. The two greek leaders you slaughtered a few days back ? Ajax was the second in the line of possible adquisitors for me, Menelaus threatened with taking me to satisfy his hurted honor and died the next day. "

The strange coincidence amazed him.

" I'm always with you, even if this crazy world we live in takes us apart. "

[ceruleansonata]

Arioso

part 1

He watches that head go flying. The spray of blood.

No.

Not again.

"Vanessa!!!!!!" he screams, fighting back against the frenzied crowd as he searches for his sister, his heart pounding. Not again. He can't lose anyone else. "Vanessa Nightray!!!!!!!"

"Elliot!!!!!" He hears his name and turns, but the orange glow of flames licking up the billowing curtains catches his eye instead. He feels his stomach turn.

A hand grabs his arm roughly and Elliot jumps, turning quickly to see his panicked sister, her valet right behind her. "Elliot!! Why are you just standing there, we need to go!!!"

"I was looking for you!!!"

"Well you found me, let's go!!!!" she grabs him by the wrist, dragging him toward the door leading straight out to the courtyard. But Elliot glimpses the sight of a bubbling, bulbous form opening its gruesome mouth in the corner of his eye.

He pulls his arm away.

"I can't just run away and leave everyone else to die!!!!"

"What?!" Vanessa snaps as she turns. Behind her, that awful Chain launches its tongue, severing the head of another panicked partygoer.

Elliot feels sick.

"You and Hans get to safety!!!! I'm going to help Gilbert stop this thing!!"

Vanessa grabs her little brother by the shirtfront, yanking him inches from her enraged face. "You've got to be kidding me!!! Now is NOT the time to play the hero!!! Aren't you always ranting and raving about how much you HATE self-serving sacrifice?!"

Elliot is caught off guard by his sisters assault. But he swallows down his surprise with a gulp.

"If we run away, we're just confirming the rumors about our family. That we're cowards and traitors!! I don't want to live in the shadows anymore, Vanessa. And I can't just run away and wonder if I could have saved even one more life!!!"

"What good is a family name if you're dead, Elliot?!" she screams, tears in her blue eyes. "Don't you realize you're the only one I have left?!"

Suddenly, Elliot goes quiet.

Oh.

"Fred, Claude, Ernest. Our father... Our mother's lost her mind and fallen prey to the lies of that creep... And you want to risk your life over that Vessalius brat?!"

Elliot hasn't seen his sister cry like this since Claude and Ernest died.

He takes her into his arms, hugging her despite the chaos behind them. "I know. I'm sorry, Vanessa."

His stomach sinks.

"But I still don't want to run away. I came here to investigate the Headhunter. And this obviously has something to do with it. I owe it to everyone we've lost to at least find out why," he explains, calmer now. "And I'm not the only one left. Gilbert is still here, too. And he has Raven. He knows how to fight."

Sure enough, he spots his adoptive brother running in their direction.

Vanessa frowns. "We can't trust that guy, Elliot--"

"For now, we have to. Look. I'm not going to die that easily," he promises his sister. "Got it?"

She takes a deep, deep breath. "Then I'm not running away either."

"Hold on--!!" Elliot raises his tone again in surprise. "Yes you are!!!"

"No!!! Hans and I both have guns, and martial training too. And that HAS to be more useful than your old sword!!!"

Elliot starts to argue, but he's cut off by Gilbert calling his name.

Suddenly, everything happens very quickly.

Gilbert jumps over a table, tackling both Elliot and Vanessa to the ground.

Humpty Dumpty's razor sharp tongue whizzes over their heads as Gilbert pulls the table onto its side as a shield.

Which is why Elliot doesn't realize at first that Hans is not so lucky.

[batsplat]

hello <3 i wanted to share whith you some things pedro said for a spanish newspaper! english is not my first language, but i hope it makes sense:

European riders have always had it easier, because if I have a bad race in Misano, I get on a plane, and by Sunday night, I'm at my mom's house, cry a little, and carry on. But the Stoners, Schwantzes, or Doohans crossed the world to go and win on a bike, not caring about anything else. And I don't say this because they were great riders who won a lot, but because they are the essence of the sport. How many times have you seen Dani smile without finishing first? Or Lorenzo? You don't. Now is different.

that's it!!

also, a few months ago, i asked you for tips on getting into tennis because my grandpa passed away and i wanted to feel closer to him since he was a huge fan. thank you so much for helping me back then ♡

now i have to say that i’m officially a casper ruud, daniil medvedev, and andrey rublev enjoyer! i’m still struggling to understand the hype around the “rivalry” between jannik and carlos 😭 like, i enjoy their matches separately (especially carlos’), but idk, they just don’t have that spark that some other players do for me. and all the matches between them that i’ve seen so far just leave me kinda cold...maybe it’s because i still don’t understand the sport as well as other people do (?)

either way, now i’m diving into the main attraction: women’s tennis ✨️ i’ve only seen bits and pieces, but i’ve got a soft spot for aryna, iga, coco and paula!

i'll tell you how that goes!

again, thank you for always answering with such care and kindness!! sending you a huge hug from here ♡

thank you for sending!! always love getting stuff in my inbox I wouldn't have otherwise seen, especially about this kid. pedro's so interesting with this stuff - like motogp as a sport is quite backward-facing anyway but he really pushes it even further with his reverence for the sport's history. still looking back to schwantz, to doohan... and he is correct about how it's obviously tougher for non-european riders. reminds me of something wayne rainey said at the time of casey's retirement announcement (x):

“My first question when I heard that was, why?” “I think it’s okay,” Rainey said. “I think it took a lot of courage to step up there and say something like that when you’re at the top of your sport and you’re leading this year’s championship. You’ve won championships already. He obviously had some time to think about it. And he’s absolutely 100 percent right. If you don’t have the passion, if you don’t have the desire to go do everything it takes and still put up with those sacrifices, it’s not worth it. You never know when the perfect time it is to actually walk away from the sport and sometimes people do stay too long. Obviously, he doesn’t enjoy it and I can definitely relate to that.” By the time Rainey’s career ended in a gravel trap in Misano Adriatico, Italy in 1993 he no longer enjoyed racing. “From my experience, I wasn’t enjoying doing what I was doing at the end of my career,” Rainey said. “And I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to go. I had kind of a forced retirement. I think Casey’s doing the right thing. Only he knows inside his mind and in his heart what he truly feels when he’s out there taking the risk. And I’m okay with it. I’m completely 100 percent behind him.” Travel is one of the biggest drains on the riders and their families. That they fly first class lessens the string, but doesn’t erase it. Rainey, Schwantz and Roberts share with Stoner the distance of home. Even though he has a European base in Lausanne, Switzerland, Stoner’s home is in Australia. “It’s not like he can just go home after each race. Being an American and racing over there, it’s a huge, huge sacrifice. It’s much, much different than what the Europeans have to commit as far as having that home base.”

of course for casey that was one of the defining tensions of his career - having to leave australia as a fourteen year old and never finding a home away from it. the isolation and the homesickness and the feelings of alienation plaguing him throughout his career. and pedro is also correct in saying it promotes a more... focused approach, right - casey was always deeply, painstakingly aware of the sacrifices he and his family had made to get there. the terror of letting everyone down. as he says in his autobiography,

There wasn’t really any time for me to enjoy myself because there was so much at stake and the sacrifices we had already made had become my biggest source of motivation. Living in a caravan on the north-west coast of England in the middle of winter, 20,000 kilometres from home was hard enough, but even harder was the prospect that it could all be for nothing. I was never there to be a part of the process or to enjoy the experience. I was there to make something out of every opportunity because I was never sure if it would be my last one. That fear of not being offered a ride for the following season was a constant driving force in those early days.

and yeah, back to pedro. it's interesting how much he frames single mindedness as a virtue, how it's the ESSENCE of the sport - relates to how firm he is about not being in the sport to be friends. the sport has to come above everything. in the casey autobiography passage linked above, he does express his belief that young riders aren't taking things seriously enough, that they feel like they can just go home "and think nothing more of it"... similar to what pedro's saying, isn't it. dani and jorge wouldn't smile at a second place, right. and casey did say he didn't have any friends in the paddock

you can debate about whether pedro's right or not and whether riders really do care less - which, whatever, that's a different topic. I DO think it's interesting how it feels part of his approach of... if you're making friends with your competitors, you probably don't care enough. and hey, I'm generally pro that mindset! nothing wrong with being ready to make some enemies, with dismissing the kind of faux civility that drains away narrative tension by making all rivals into friendly coworkers. admittedly sometimes it's good for rivals to form juicy interpersonal relationships that can go horrendously wrong, but this is the next best thing yeah

and for all that pedro gets compared a lot to valentino in particular in terms of his personality and potential to change the sport, for my money he still reminds me the most of a young jorge. he's got the cockiness of course, he's got the single-mindedness, the tenacity - like jorge, he's a real student of the sport. jorge was constantly figuring out what sort of 'character' he wanted to have with reference to riders of... well, past and present, when you include valentino. pedro also does seem quite open about how he DOES want to have a rossi-esque impact on the sport - which, again, extremely jorge. obviously pedro's plenty different too... more sociable, better comic timing, less excessive in his introspection. not quite as mouthy

still... I reckon jorge by this point in an equivalent rookie season would've already seriously pissed off one of his fellow riders, so I feel like pedro can maybe. just go for it, right. like you don't have to wait to be fighting for a title to burn some bridges. live a little! it's all good to talk about how much you love drama, but you have to be the change you want to see in the world. go crazy

as for the rest of your ask, this means a lot to read, genuinely, sending you a lot of love - and I'd very much like to continue getting updates about where you're at with tennis!!

about your men's faves, medvedev is my number one guy these days lol - not perhaps the best time to jump aboard but you never know. and at the very least I can guarantee that you won't get a quiet moment with him even when he's flopping. for better and for worse, constant controversy with that lad. I don't want to assume how many of his greatest hits you've familiarised yourself with - but if you ever want some more lore about him, well, just give me a shout. very much an expert on that guy's entire career lol. here's his paris 2021 monologue as an anniversary for the last time he didn't suck there, kind of feel like this one has gone under a bit...

shakespeare found quaking. if anything he's got too many hits, I remember in a podcast last year he briefly didn't remember the "shut your fuck up" speech which like. how does that happen to you

and yeah, well, I did try to give my advice from a neutral pov... and as a long time sufferer of this sport I can honestly tell you that you're in for a frustrating decade plus with men's tennis if you're not a fan of either alcaraz or sinner. that being said, obviously I'm not a fan, either of the two of them individually or of their rivalry. they've had one genuinely great match, uso 2022 qf, but everything else has been... great in stretches, less so much of the time. at least at rg this year everyone could agree the match was mid, still remember the gaslighting I had to undergo over djokovic/alcaraz cincy last year when people pretended like that was a classic. rather than a mediocre match with a strong half hour to finish things off. but anyway, I think the only time the rivalry was vaguely narratively appealing to me was when alcaraz still clearly had the upper hand in career terms and sinner was still mid but was able to play alcaraz well specifically. and also alcaraz seemed a way bigger fan of sinner than vice versa. like if sinner's career arc had been a narrative of failure, maybe it would've worked for me. as it stands, now he won't stop winning AND it's stripped away the only source of narrative juice from that rivalry

but yeah, it's not really about whether you know tennis - it's just a taste thing, at the end of the day. obviously I can appreciate the tennis, though I'm not particularly big on sinner's style of linear bashing. especially when it's optimised to a rafole-type extent. it's just too efficient, too effective, to lifeless... I think it's quite a good match up, I just don't really care. doesn't have anything a rivalry needs to be compelling, like we might as well get two mannequins to play tennis. where's the angst, the strife... can't believe I'm saying this but even the big three were better. it's not for me, though again if it's in any way possible... get invested in one of those two guys lol. as a long term big three hater, I can say it's really not a particularly satisfying way to live your life

anyway. yes! women's tennis! if you can, try to catch some of the wta finals that are happening at the minute. and, well, I'm not thrilled by its location, but on the plus side the tennis will probably be watchable. can't remember if I included this specific video, but shout out to cancun last year for just being a mess

the thing about year end championships is that they promise a lot and tend to not actually deliver the tennis they should on paper. big part of that is that most players just aren't really capable of producing their best anymore this time of the year. but!! I live in hope!! at the very least curious about how iga will be getting on, since this is the first we see of her since the us open. it's been a tumultuous time

and I have a lot of fondness for iga and aryna!! I want their rivalry to prosper! at this point I would commit blood sacrifice to get a slam final between the two of them next year. hopefully they'll have another wta finals match too... again, really don't know what to expect from iga - but that's the fun of it, right. you need a bit of angst and tension and neuroticism and inner demons to make a sport compelling, and at least you've GOT that with the best two players in the world in spades. at the end of the day, I'll always be far more excited about what the future holds for them than... you know. not to be too much of a hater lol

anyway, again thank you for this lovely ask. if there's anything else you'd like to know about the sport or talk about, my inbox/dms are always open. and sending a hug to you too :)

[super-peace-fangirl]

I've recently seen some misinterpretations regarding this scene so I wanted to share my thoughts.

The criticism, which I personally find so unfair and wrong considering Levi's character arc in the final battle mostly revolves around: "Levi didn't even care about leaving the kids behind to the point he ordered Mikasa, Pieck and Falco to depart without any final/farewell words to Jean, Connie, etc" or "I knew it!!! Levi only cared about killing Zeke post-time skip. It was obvious he's gonna have NO motivation to fight"

I'm going to explain both claims from my own perspective.

1) About the first one, I think it is important to remember Levi's rational motivation in such critical moment. So the situation is as the following >>> The alliance figuring out the steam released from the hallucigenia is poisonous just like Zeke's spinal fluids and as many pointed out the reason there was suspect of them turning into titans came from the fact hallucigenia is the source of the titan power so it only makes sense for Levi to believe the Eldians exposed to the steam would transform immediately after. Did they have time to process the situation? No. Did they even have time to say goodbye? Hell no! It only took Levi, Mikasa, Falco & Pieck a few minutes before their comrades/families were titanized right before their eyes. There was absolutely no time for hesitation and as I've seen some people mentioned as well Levi was the only one who thought rationally and was able to make such decision in that moment. Was it painful for him? Of course it was! Was it hard for him to leave his comrades behind once again without even being able to say goodbye? SURE IT WAS!

Is this the face of a person who doesn't care about leaving his family? I'm gonna leave the obvious answer to you guys.

Now let's get back to even the more logical part. You gotta ask yourself why Levi decided what he did. Had Levi, Mikasa, Falco & Pieck aka the last hopes of humanity's survival been caught in a horde of titans and eaten then who were going to defeat Eren? Marleyans who didn't even have enough cannons to face Eren (oh well the cannons had no effect on the founding titan either way) or Armin was supposed to take him down single-handedly? Think about it, who else but all these people together could kill Eren?

It's also worth mentioning what Levi tells Mikasa right after they had to abandon their comrades and people

"We're the only ones that can kill Eren"

I think this part's even more proof of Levi's rational decision. Do I not love Jean and Connie? Of course I do. I'm not gonna lie, I'm still in denial about what happened to them and I'm hoping there's a way they'll revert back to being humans and if they really die I personally will find their deaths meaningless at this point of the story. However, I understand that they had no time for emotional talk. They had to defeat Eren and end this nightmare as soon as possible.

2) Now regarding the second claim, I think there are already many great meta writers who pointed out the obvious but I'm just gonna leave some panels and notes to emphasize how much such criticism about Levi's not but a misinterpretation.

Let's get back to chapter 135 where Levi literally told Mikasa he will act as bait in order for them to defeat the titans the founder Ymir sent their way

He knew Zeke's still alive somewhere from Hanji's words so if he only cared about killing him why would he try to sacrifice his life for the kids to proceed with their plans before taking down the monke?

Levi risking his life to save Jean's in the same chapter right after the above panel

"Levi's all about killing Zeke at this point. He doesn't care about his kids any longer" is what the criticism says. I don't think I need to explain this further because the panel is proof enough how much he cares for his kids.

Right after saving Jean Levi's injuries worsen but he still continues fighting to protect them

The reason for his leg injury is saving Connie

And lastly, about him caring for humanity

"We're doing both"

Levi's the first person who actually said they have to kill Eren and save Armin among the corps. If he only cared about killing Zeke why would he suggest they have to consider both options? Why would he repeat himself in the very recent chapter again (about killing Eren) in order to end this nightmare? As I've said many times before Levi could've killed Zeke and fulfilled his promise a long time ago but he prevented himself from doing so because he assumed keeping Zeke alive was the best option for saving humanity.

Bottom line Levi’s promise to Erwin was never even about mere revenge. The man said it himself, “I will give meaning to your deaths” and he’s only able to do that through saving humanity. I’m not saying he didn’t hate Zeke considering all the suffering Zeke brought to Levi’s comrades. However, it is important to remember Levi was always ready to give up on killing him if his existence benefitted humanity. Killing Zeke wasn’t his sole purpose in life as some like to put it.

[rufousnmacska]

What do you think are the TOG cast's opinion about Manorian is?

From what I can gather, here is what I think the characters mindset is from the end of EOS:

Characters close to either Manon or Dorian:

Aelin: Thinks its a phase for Dorian. Maybe thinks there is no substance in the relationship and it'll be shortlived. Probably stems from a prejudice against witches before from what Ansel told her. I'm curious about how this would change due to the fact Manon, the Thirteen and her kingdom saved Terrasen.

Rowan: Is supportive of Dorian. (Training sesh🤣)

Chaol: Probably heart attack. Probably doesn't like Manon. Probably feels a certain way about Dorian making this decision for himself without Chaol present to "protect" him. Probably thinks Dorian is leaving the "nest" too soon (Jealous of Manon in the sense of when your friend gets a new partner).

Nesryn: Probably supportive of Dorian's happiness.

Elide: Supportive of Manon's happiness

The thirteen: Definitely gave Dorian the "once over". Saw what he was all about. (Probably threatened him) but they were ultimately impressed or gave their approval. They were happy that Manon found someone.

Characters who were not close to Manon or Dorian:

Aedion: Thinks its weird and even laughed at the prospect of them together with Lysandra (he called it a "disaster"). At this point in EOS, he hates Dorian and distrusts Manon. Same prejudice against Manon's people AND Dorian, himself. Stems from Aedion not getting the right idea of who Dorian is despite the years of him "knowing him". He was aware of who Dorian was but never got to know him, because of who his family was (hence the prejudice against him).

Lysandra: Compared Dorian's seeking something completely different to Sorscha like her former clients. Again, she doesn't know either of them, so.... I don't know how valid that opinion is?

I'm really curious to see how their opinions of them changes especially Aelin, Chaol and Aedion.

This ask came through twice and the first time it mentioned the characters’ opinions after KoA. So I hope that’s what you meant anon because that’s how I’m going to answer. If it’s not please let me know 🙂

Aelin - I agree with you about how she views them in EoS. She knows nothing about Manon except she’s a lethal witch and necessary ally. Aelin doesn’t seem to put much thought into why Manon saves Dorian twice. I don’t think anyone does except Dorian and the Thirteen (the people who know Manon behind the mask). So yes, I think Aelin sees it as just physical attraction, just Dorian being Dorian. In KoA, we really don’t get much more, mostly because she’s focused on other things and has been through so much. I think by the end of KoA, Aelin views Manon as a friend as well as an ally. My feeling is she would want both of her friends, Dorian and now Manon, to be happy. If that means they’re together, she’d be all for that.

Rowan - In EoS Rowan was pretty much a full on Manorian stan lol! His little wing man maneuver in the swamp made that clear. And you could say Aelin’s positive reaction to that shows she’s open to the idea of manorian. I loved how supportive Rowan always was of Dorian! Not just when it came to Manon, but as a teacher and friend. I think post KoA he’d also want to see them happy and together. And I think he and Manon would eventually become good friends. They have a lot of similarities that they’d bond over while their spouses talked about books. 🙂

Chaol - This is interesting to me because right after EoS, the fandom (myself included) assumed Chaol would despise Manon and hate that she was with Dorian. Partly for the reasons you’ve given. Then Tower of Dawn came out and Chaol was surprisingly calm when he heard Dorian might be with Manon. His time in the Southern Continent and with Yrene changed him. That made me reconsider things going into KoA. I figured if Manorian ended up together, Chaol would be ok with it, especially since Manon was so protective of Dorian. And once he saw how Dorian had changed, how serious his feelings were for Manon, Chaol was very supportive. He may be a little nervous around her, but I don’t see him trying to come between them.

I totally agree about Elide and Nesryn!

The Thirteen - They knew the real Manon. So they knew Manon had feelings for Dorian before she did. The fact she saved Dorian twice, at the risk of her own life and Asterin’s … they knew that meant something. Compare that to Aelin and her court, who were grateful of course, but only knowing Manon’s reputation meant they never really considered why she’d done it. They were just confused by it or simply chalked it up to some political ploy. We see in KoA that each member of the Thirteen reacted differently to Dorian and his relationship to Manon, which makes sense. They’re all very different characters. But they all respected him. Or in Lin’s case, put up with him lol! Asterin telling Manon to live in KoA was her plea to Manon to experience a full life, one that included love. So if things had ended differently for them, those witches would’ve been overjoyed to see their queen in love.

Glennis, Bronwen, Petrah - You didn’t mention them but I think it’s interesting to consider their opinions. Glennis and Bronwen met both Manon and Dorian at the same time. So for them, the two being a couple is the default. After KoA, I’m sure neither would be bothered or surprised if Manorian got together. Of the three, only Petrah knew Manon before. I think she saw beneath Manon’s mask more than anyone outside the Thirteen. Post KoA, she’d want her queen to be happy and I think she’d get along well with Dorian.

Aedion, Lysandra - Again, I agree with you about Aedion. He is too clouded by his anger at Dorian and his prejudice against witches. His mind is more open at the end of the series, but in EoS he definitely doesn’t get why Dorian and Manon would be together. Lysandra’s (second to Rowan in EoS as a Manorian fan lol) explanation was accurate I think. That isn’t the complete reason for Dorian’s interest in Manon, but it’s a part. Dorian alludes to that himself when he says Manon isn’t breakable like a human woman. Post KoA, I’d imagine Aedion and Dorian would become friends over time. He still may not get what Dorian sees in Manon, but I don’t see him being concerned by it.

I think KoA ends on such a hopeful note that it’s safe to say all the characters would want to see Manorian happy. Especially because of Manon and the Thirteen’s sacrifice and Dorian’s courage in the war.

And let’s be real, Yrene would harass anyone who thought differently 😂

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

sleeping on the blacktop

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: angst, descriptions of a car accident, blood, gore, mentions of death, vomiting, medical terminology (that i know absolutely nothing about !! i am not a doctor or an emt—almost all of my knowledge is from an anatomy class or tv so—don’t come for me pls), my ramblings about fate and free will, i also gave the baby a name (sorry if you don’t like it :( i just hate having y/d/n, ya know? too much work)

word count: 8.5k

synopsis: while harry is away on tour, his wife and baby get into a car accident

author’s note: please, be mindful of the warnings and don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything mentioned and sorry for the sort of rushed ending... other than that, i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

“You don’t need to do that,” Anne says from behind her, and Y/N flinches, nearly dropping a plate. She got lost in her thoughts, staring out the window in Anne’s kitchen.

“You cooked. It’s the least I can do,” she says. Anne grabs a rag and dries some of the dishes. Gemma is keeping Rhiannon occupied in the next room, and from the peals of laughter, it’s the happiest she’s been in days. Y/N sighs, wiping her pruned hands on a paper towel. If she’s being honest, she’s not doing too well; Rhia has had a hard time adjusting to not having Harry around all the time, causing a varied sleep schedule and more bouts of fussiness in general, and Y/N struggles keeping up.

“How’re you doing?”

Y/N hesitates. She contemplates lying. She doesn’t need one more person worrying for her, and she doesn’t want people to think that she can’t take care of her own child by herself. Harry already worries enough, even though she’s assured him many times that he doesn’t need to be.

She knows that he feels guilty for not being there all the time, but she would never force him to stop touring and doing what he loves, partly because she’s afraid he’ll resent her. Despite him being across an entire ocean, she never feels like he is far; he’s always willing to stop anything when she calls, and he tries his hardest to talk with her twice a day. She always keeps him as involved as possible, sending daily updates and photos.

“It’s tough,” she admits, “but it’s getting better, no need to worry about me.” She offers Anne a weak smile.

“Can’t help it,” she says, pinching her cheeks lightly.

Noticing the dimming sky, the sun sinking below the line of trees in the yard, Y/N sighs.

“We should probably go,” she mutters, slipping into the next room. Despite how tired she is, she can’t help the smile that takes over her face when Rhiannon looks up at her, showing her gums.

“Time to go, bug,” she says, light and lilting. Rhia kicks her legs, making her almost lose her balance. She’s too confident for her own good, like her father; she’s only just started sitting up on her own and thinks she can wiggle around without falling.

“You sure you’re okay to drive, love?” Anne asks from behind her. Y/N rolls her eyes, yet smiles fondly at her protectiveness.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only a few minutes away.”

Ever since Harry left for tour, Y/N has been staying in their lake cottage to be closer to Anne. It’s only a quick 20 minute drive away, which has been helpful during the days when Y/N needed to catch up on sleep, and Anne is always happy to help. She didn’t like to do that very often, feeling like she was taking advantage of her mother-in-law.

The cottage was a cute little thing, perfect for just the two of them, and Y/N was glad to get out of their shared home; it was too big and empty for just her and Rhia. Harry was always able to liven up any place they were at, but now that he’s gone, it felt hollow and dismal.

“You know you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got plenty of room,” Anne tries to convince her one last time. As much as Y/N appreciated her worrying, she didn’t want to impose, and she’s sure that Anne wouldn’t want to listen to a fussy baby, even though she would deny it to the end of her days.

Y/N puts Rhia in her coat with little resistance, which is surprising, but she only had a short little nap that afternoon, and they had a busy day.

“I know, Anne, but I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N says. “Besides, Rhia sleeps better in our bed, and you need all the sleep you can get, don’t ya?” She tickles her daughter’s little bloated belly, making her giggle sweetly. Once she’s strapped in, the baby stretches and tries to put Y/N’s fingers in her mouth.

“You know I worry about you,” Anne sighs, kneeling next to Y/N.

“No need to worry,” Y/N smiles. Anne tucks the woven green blanket under Rhiannon’s legs. It’s the same blanket Harry had when he was a baby, barely held together with a few threads and love. Y/N stands, hoisting the carrier up to her hip.

“Call me when you get home, yeah?”

“Course,” she says, pressing a kiss to Anne’s cheek.

When they’re settled in the car, Anne stays out on the porch, watching them until they’re safely on the road, offering a wide smile and an air kiss. Y/N is so thankful to have her shoulder to lean on.

It’s a clear night, which Y/N is thankful for, no fog or rain, which isn’t an often occurrence. She stops at a sign, brakes squealing slightly. She stays there for a second, feeling the familiar burn of exhaustion behind her eyes. She rests her forehead against the steering wheel.

“Da, da,” Rhiannon mumbles. Y/N reaches behind her, barely able to reach her on the opposite side of the back seat, and she grabs onto her fingers.

“I know, peach,” Y/N sighs, “Miss daddy, too.”

She never considered how fragile life could be until she met Harry, not in the sense that death is an imminent and constant force, more in the sense that everything, her goals, her view on life, and her priorities, shifted when she met him. He became her influence, and she was willing to go through hell or high water just to be with him.

In summation, it takes all but five seconds for your life to completely change, for better or for worse.

There are dozens upon dozens of tiny events that build up and push you toward that one big moment that will change your life. Nothing is set in stone; different choices lead you down different paths, and your paths are constantly changing, either for better or worse, and slowly but surely, you’ll finally reach the top of that mountain. Every choice you questioned, every sacrifice you made, will come together in due time, just know that you’re working toward a greater purpose.

Y/N has never been a big believer in fate, that everything is beyond your control and that everything is already set in stone, but perhaps there is some truth to it. Fate could have pushed her to leave home when she was young. Fate could have put her on a safe and stable path when she went to university that landed her a good job when she was fresh out of her internship, and fate could have brought Harry into her life.

But she will never claim fate as a sole guide to her life. Fate is not responsible for her success nor her mistakes; that was all because of her hard work and integrity, her youth and ignorance. To her, fate is simply an excuse. People want to put blame on something, and when things seem out of their control or when they make bad decisions, they don’t feel quite as guilty. They’re willing to take credit for good things that happen but won’t when it affects them negatively.

Say, perhaps, that fate brought Y/N to that intersection, then maybe it was fate that planted the trees that obscured her vision; perhaps, it was fate that made the lights in the post go out that evening.

If so, fate has a twisted sense of humor.

If not, why wouldn’t fate give her any time to react before the impact?

How could fate be so cruel?

—

Working as an EMT, there are always certain risks you accept when you are on the clock; not only are you surrounded by an unbelievable pressure, there is always the ominous cloud looming overhead, a thin thread between life and death threatening to break at any moment, and it’s your job to keep them stable until they arrive at the hospital.

Not too hard, right?

Being able to save people from the brink of death and reuniting families makes almost everything worth it, but there are always scenes that stick with you for the rest of your life, and for Leslie Greene, this is one of them.

What stands out the most is the sound of a crying baby.

She’s seen some very horrific accidents: cars that have been reduced to nothing more than a ball of cheap scrap metal, with blood coating the shattered glass, to DOA’s, where the impact made them look unrecognizable. She has seen a lot of unspeakable things and had a lot of good people die on her watch.

But never has she ever had a baby present at any accident scene. That’s new.

Those cries will probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

“I didn’ see ‘em,” the man slurs from the police car. He has a bloodied lip and a slight bruise forming around his neck from the seat belt. The stench of rum rolls off him with every breath. He sits back, eyes dull and hooded, like he doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

Another EMT meets with her half-way to the other vehicle, lodged against the ditch across the way.

“Driver side sustained some serious damage. The baby has no discernible injuries, but another ambulance is a minute out to take her.”

From the driver’s side, Leslie can see the baby on the opposite side of the backseat, the car seat still tightly in place. The baby flails about, legs and arms kicking with strength. The car is twisted and mangled, but most of the damage is on the driver’s side, the door latched closed. Shattered glass cracks beneath her boot.

When they’re finally able to get the car door open, the woman, barely even mobile, opens her eyes slightly, but she flinches back at the bright lights. Blood drips down from her hairline, bruises already forming on her eyes from the impact on the steering wheel. Blood pools on the leather seat as she shifts with discomfort.

James, a newbie who has never been to a scene with this much damage, breathes out shakily. Leslie turns to see his lips curling, close to dry heaving.

“Go get the baby, yeah?”

He nods quickly, pale in the face, and scurries to the other side. The baby is soothed only momentarily before her wails continue. The woman’s eyes snap open fully this time, panic clear on her features. She tugs fruitlessly on the seat belt, a pained groan leaving her when she moves too quickly.

“Please, don’t move. My name is Leslie. I’m here to help.” She presses a hand to her chest, feeling the woman’s racing heart. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she grits out, her eyes fluttering dangerously. From how she reacted to the lights, she probably has a concussion. Leslie cuts the seat belt, and glass falls onto the blacktop, clinking musically until they settle, like they’re sleeping. Through the gloves, she can feel how warm she is, sweat beading down from her forehead. Glass has settled in the divots of her wool sweater, but not before cutting her skin, caking the pearl necklace peeking from the neckline in blood.

“Y/N, I need you to turn a bit. I need to see where the bleeding is coming from,” Leslie says softly, inching her slowly onto her side. She sighs as more blood pools, gushing down her back and soaking her jumper further. It’s from a rib that broke through the skin. She can only hope that they didn’t puncture an organ.

“Does that hurt?” She asks as she puts pressure on the skin.

“No,” Y/N whimpers, eyes fluttering closed. When they get her on the stretcher, with minimal blood loss, she stirs with life again, her trembling hand reaching onto the sleeve of Leslie’s shirt, painting it red.

“Rhiannon—my baby girl—is she…” She swallows back tears.

“She’s fine.” Leslie knows that it’s unwise to lie to a patient; perhaps, she’s not entirely lying, but it’s never a good idea to give a victim a sure diagnosis without actually knowing anything. There may have been no physical signs of trauma to the baby, but internal problems are a very real possibility that they won’t know of until they get to the hospital.

She knows that she shouldn’t lie. It takes seven minutes to get to the nearest hospital, but it’s time that Y/N may not have; despite how quickly they were able to get her into the ambulance, she’s losing a lot of blood.

“Thank you,” Y/N sighs in relief, clutching onto her hand. Her wedding ring nearly cuts through the gloves from the pressure.

“Of course,” Leslie says, easily putting her on an IV.

“My husband,” she gasps suddenly, her arm jerking about. “Harry—he—he’s gonna be worried. ‘M supposed to call. He has to tell her goodnight—“

“Y/N, relax,” Leslie coos. “We will contact your husband. You need to focus on yourself, yeah? Don’t close your eyes, Y/N.”

Leslie can see the fear in her eyes; it’s something she’s grown very familiar with, but it’s not just fear for her own survival. She can see how scared she is for her family. She struggles to keep her eyes open, resilience and weakness fighting for power. Like any mother, she’s fighting for her family. She’s fighting to be able to hold onto and kiss them one more time.

She is trying so hard to fight for her family.

But at the same time, it’s so easy to give in.

“If I don’t make it,” she slurs, breathing quickly out of her nose. The blood from her nose slips down into her mouth, making her cough.

“Don’t say—”

“If I don’t, I need you to tell Harry that I love him, and that…” She lets out a pained whimper, struggling to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault, love.”

Her lip quivers, teeth chattering.

“I’m just sorry for everything.”

Leslie knows exactly what that means. She’s making amends, apologizing for not being able to fight. A lone tear slips from her eye, but Leslie wipes it away.

“I will.” She promises, gripping her hand tighter.

Only two more minutes.

Y/N gives her a thankful nod, and as if she has finally made peace with the world, she falls limp, the light leaving her eyes.

—

Harry has always enjoyed New York, and it’s not very often that he is able to stay for longer than one night. There is just something about it that’s completely different from London or L.A. that he likes about it; He couldn’t imagine actually living there, with the massive crowds and fluctuating weather, but it’s a nice place to visit, very different from what he’s used to.

He’s halfway through the tour for his most recent album, and New York is the last stop before he gets a short break to go home. He has a show tonight at Madison Square, a radio interview in the morning, and then, he’s home free. He’s been looking forward to this break before the tour even began. Don’t get him wrong, he loves performing and meeting fans and traveling the world, but now that he has a family, it gets more and more difficult not being there for the people who need him most.

“So, I heard,” the interviewer begins, smiling widely.

Sadly, Harry has already forgotten his name. The interview was supposed to be a short little thing for social media, only supposed to take 20 minutes, so he could prepare for the concert that evening, but it’s been nearly an hour, and there are no signs of stopping any time soon. Harry holds off yet another yawn, the lack of sleep from the night before washing over him. He’s having trouble focusing.

“You’ve got a baby girl.”

“Yes,” Harry beams. Even though he wants to keep his baby out of the limelight, he can’t help the excitement that fills his chest whenever she's mentioned. He can easily go on and on about how wonderful and sweet and perfect she is. He tugs on his pearl necklace, biting on his lips to keep quiet. He and Y/N agreed that it would be best for Rhia to grow up as normally as possible, which meant only posting about her on his private social media and avoiding busy places so as to not be seen, but some things were simply unavoidable, like interviewers trying to get him to let something about her slip to get their five-minutes-of-fame. It seems rude of him to completely ignore their questions, so he just sticks to very short, vague answers.

“How are you adjusting to fatherhood?”

“Uh,” he laughs, fiddling with his wedding ring. “It was a struggle to begin with. I will admit that, but it’s getting better. We’re still learning how to adjust to everything.”

He says it like he’s actually there, actively helping Y/N, even though he's on the other side of the world. He hasn’t seen his daughter in nearly two months; video chats have absolutely nothing on the real thing. He isn’t helping Y/N put Rhia to sleep when she’s feeling particularly fussy or feeding her at two in the morning, so Y/N can finally get some well-deserved sleep, and he’s not there to play with her or comfort her.

It feels like he’s lying.

He’s a sad excuse of a father. That’s what he really is.

The thought makes the smile fall from his face, but he’s quick to force another one; if there’s anything that he’s learned after years in the public eye, it’s how to fake emotions. The interviewer gives him an understanding smile. He’s older, but not too old, only having a few years on Harry, age wise, but the wrinkles beside his eyes and the nicked ring on his finger suggest years of familial experience.

“I completely understand. I have three boys of my own, and—”

“I am so sorry,” Jeff, Harry’s savior, says suddenly from behind the camera. “D’ya mind if I borrow Harry for a second?”

The interviewer nods.

“No problem. Take 15?”

Harry feels a twinge of guilt as he stands quickly from the chair, happy to finally have a break.

“Thanks,” Harry sighs, brushing past Jeff to the refreshment table. “‘M exhausted. Maybe it’s ‘cause of Rhi, but every little thing wakes me up. Swore I heard her cryin’ last night.” Jeff is quiet, fiddling with his hands nervously. Harry doesn’t notice how quiet the man has gotten, and he opens a bottle of water, rifling through his bag.

“Isn’t it almost 3? Y/N should be callin’ soon.”

“Harry,” Jeff says again, stronger this time. Harry still doesn’t notice how his voice breaks slightly, wobbly and hesitant.

“Yeah?” Harry drinks nearly half of the water, not sparing a glance up. He fishes for his phone, only to remember that he left it in the car. He sighs and turns. That’s when he finally notices how shaken up Jeff is, pale and nervous.

“What’s up? Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he laughs, downing the rest of his water before tossing it in the bin.

“Harry,” Jeff says again, soft and somber, and it makes Harry stop. Dread settles in his stomach, deep and heavy. Jeff has never been one to be the bearer of bad news, and he tended to beat around the bush. “Why don’t you sit down?” Jeff tries to guide Harry over to the cheap stool in the corner of the room, but he rips his arm from his grasp.

Harry has never been one to let his mind run wild; he’s the calm one, who looks at reason and logic. He's the one to tell everyone that everything’s going to be fine; he’s the one who takes everything in stride, like water rolling down his back. Bumps in the road are nothing. He’s the one that comes up with solutions and executes them with ease, but with the way Jeff is treating him, his heart races.

“What?”

“There’s been an accident,” Jeff says slowly, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

It takes a second for Harry to process his words, but when he does, he stumbles back.

His mind automatically tries to reason with itself, that maybe it has nothing to do with him. Perhaps, something went wrong at the venue, and they would have to postpone, lengthening his stay for only a couple more days. Maybe, Mitch got food poisoning and will be unable to play that evening. There are dozens of reasonable explanations as to why Jeff pulled him aside, but Harry knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t have such a mournful look in his eyes, if it isn’t anything less than very serious.

Okay, fine, there was an accident. That could mean so many different things. An accident doesn’t even necessarily mean that they are in grave danger; they could be walking away unscathed.

“W-what? I-i-is it Gem? Mum?” Endless scenarios flicker in his mind, each one worse than the last. The one thing that he doesn’t even consider is it being Y/N or Rhiannon. His mind refuses to go down that road; if it did, there’s no way of knowing how he would react. He doesn’t even consider the possibility of them being in trouble. He hates how long Jeff is taking to tell him, as if holding off will soften the blow. Irritation starts bubbling below the surface, and he finds it hard to keep calm.

“Harry,” he says, shaking his head. “Anne called me. There was a drunk driver, and they’re headed to the hospital now—”

“They?”

His heart stops for a second, and it feels like his chest collapses in on itself. His body feels like it’s reacting to a stressful situation, with adrenaline and fear and anger, but Harry isn’t thinking with a grieving mind; it’s cloudy and slow, delusional, even. He shakes his head.

“No,” Harry mutters, taking a step forward. He can feel tears burn in his eyes, and he makes no move to wipe them. “It wasn’t…” Harry can’t finish the question. It makes him nauseous. Jeff nods solemnly, which, in any other circumstance, would have been answer enough. “Say it,” Harry snaps.

It’s unreal, like a dream. This didn’t happen to him, not his family.

They’re safe. There’s just been a mistake. That’s the only reasonable explanation to everything. Someone made a mistake. Maybe a fan thought it would be funny to pretend to be his mum, and they somehow got Jeff’s number. It had to be a horrible, awful, repulsive joke to get some attention or something; as implausible as that seems, it’s the only thought that makes sense to him because he can’t possibly understand the weight of the truth. He doesn’t know if he can handle it.

His girls are fine.

They have to be.

“Harry—” Jeff tries to calm him down, seeing a bright red flush to his skin, frustration seeping through every pore. Anger isn’t becoming of Harry; Jeff has only seen him angry a couple of times, but never to this extent: red in the face, words shaky, eyes glassy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“It was Y/N and Rhiannon.”

That is the absolute last thing that he wanted to hear.

Even though, deep down, he knew that they were in trouble. From the first moment Jeff said his name to how sickly he looked when he told him to sit down, Harry knew, deep in his heart and mind, that his family is in trouble. He just wasn’t willing to accept it or even think about it, as if that could change reality. Until Jeff said those five words that confirmed his worst nightmare.

And he feels his world come crashing down, but he’s stuck, frozen, mind not moving nearly as fast as it should be.

“My—my…” He stutters, throat closing. “My girls?” The ache in his chest increases tenfold, and he holds onto his, feeling the racing of his heart and his quick breathing. “You’re fuckin’ with me,” he scoffs, rage building. He shakes his head with denial. “What kind of fuckin’ prick—”

“I wouldn’t joke about—”

Harry knows that. Y/N and Jeff are close. Hell, they even considered making him their daughter’s godfather. Jeff would never joke about something this serious, and Harry knows that, but he isn’t willing to accept the reality because the reality is nearly too much for him to comprehend, to carry on his already weak shoulders.

“No, they’re not,” Harry closes his eyes, hands slipping through his hair like it normally does when he’s anxious. He tugs on it, but the pain is nothing compared to the sick feeling in his stomach or the crack in his pounding heart. He honestly feels like he’s going to be ill or pass out, feeling his mouth dry up, his hands clamming up, and he begins to feel light-headed.

“Y/N’s just about to call me. It’s Rhi’s bedtime.” He rambles, not listening to Jeff.

They can’t be going to a hospital. He talked to Y/N just this morning when he couldn’t fall asleep. He spoke about his worries and doubts and guilt that he felt for being so far away from them, and Y/N soothed all of his fears and reservations, reminding him why he does what he does. Before she left, she told him that she loved him, and he could hear Rhi babbling away in the background, content and happy and safe.

“There’s a plane leaving in a half an hour—”

“And I sing to her. That's the only way she’ll sleep through the night. She hasn’t been sleepin’ very well these past few days,” he says, lost in his thoughts. His words begin to slur.

“Harry, listen to me,” Jeff says, holding onto his shoulders, trying to keep him grounded, from falling apart. Harry doesn’t get anxious often, but when he does, everything comes to a startling halt; he’s not used to it, and he lets it overwhelm him until he can’t function. That’s the last thing anyone needs.

“No, no, they’re fine. They’re fine. They’re—” He swallows, and like a wave, realization dawns on him, drowning him. His family is in the hospital, and he’s not there with them. “Oh, god,” he cries, feeling bile burn his throat. He sinks to his knees, hand pitifully covering his mouth to keep from vomiting. His vision darkens. It feels like the walls are crumbling down, and he’s stuck, frozen and alone, with no one coming to save him.

Just like his girls.

“Harry, you can’t shut down, not now,” Jeff says, kneeling beside him. “They need you.”

He knows that. He needs to be strong for the both of them, so he wipes away his tears, clenches his jaw, and pushes everything down, even if it feels like he’s choking. He has to be strong for the both of them.

The drive to the airport is a blur. He swallows back his tears until his head feels like it’s going to burst and holds his breath until he can see black spots in his vision, but most of all, he’s numb. A small part of him is still trying to convince himself that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but the larger part, the part that’s screaming the loudest, tells him he’s being irrational and selfish.

It takes 7 hours to get home; he has to travel across an entire ocean to get to his family.

How unfair is that?

He wants to blame the world, God, fate. He wants to curse whatever force existed, but behind all of the hate and accusations and judgement, he is nothing more than a guilty, broken shell of a man.

He’s angry with himself, mostly, with the choices he’s made, with how selfish and greedy he was, and how inconsiderate his actions have been for the past few months. He can’t believe that he could be so self-centered, taking Y/N for granted. She’s his wife; they’re supposed to be partners, equals, and he treated her like she was disposable while he traveled the world, living out a dying dream.

He wishes he was there, to not only prevent it, but also to tell her just one last time how important she was to him and tell her of the pain that would spread in his chest at the possibility of losing her or their child; he wants so badly to show his love for her. In four days, they would have been celebrating six years together, and in that time, he has never doubted his love for her. He knew, from the moment they met, that she was meant to be with him until the very end. They were soulmates.

Now that he might lose her and his baby, he feels like his soul is being ripped out of his chest, leaving nothing but a gaping, painful void.

Jeff sends him a link to Twitter and a message: Harry, take all the time you need.

The post says: Due to a personal emergency, Harry will not be able to make the show at MSG this evening, and all tour dates from this moment forth will be canceled until further notice. Know that he wishes he could be with you all, and please, respect his privacy in these trying times.

He calls his mother shortly after, but she doesn’t answer. When he tries Gem, she picks up after a few rings, shaky and winded. He sighs, trying to quell the tremors in his hands. His lips quiver.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Gemma explains what happened to the best of her ability, that Y/N just left to go back to the cottage after eating dinner And that Anne received a call from the hospital, after he didn’t answer his phone (that part stung to hear).

“Please—” He begins, but his voice teeters and breaks at the end. He can’t help the tears that slip down his cheeks. Exhausted and weak, he finally cries. He cries for his wife, his child, and himself. They’re not heart-wrenching sobs, where he’s keeled over, grief and anxiety spilling out of every pore, but they leave him breathless, chest aching.

“Please, tell me everythin’s gonna be fine.”

Her silence is answer enough. She can’t promise him anything. It’s too early to tell, and she’s not going to lie to him, either, not when his wife and child’s life is in the balance.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Gemma admits, “but I will call you as soon—”

He hangs up before she can finish.

—

Rain thunders onto the broken concrete, a flash of lightning brightening the dull sky. Despite the rain, the earth nearly brimming with life, the hospital is dead. There’s not a soul going in or out. The lights flicker eerily in the corner of his eye. It’s four in the morning, so it’s not much of a surprise, but the sight of it being so lifeless just feels wrong.

His mind is moving quicker than the world can keep up with, it seems, and he feels like it goes against the laws of nature. It’s a strange feeling when you feel like you’re falling apart, but the world continues on; most people on the street wouldn’t bat an eye or even pay any notice to him as he’s deteriorating before their very eyes.

As irrational as it is, it feels wrong. It feels wrong that everyone else is able to go on while his life is crumbling.

He called Gemma when he landed, and there were still no updates on their condition. He broke dozens of traffic laws to get there, and now, he stands outside the entrance, still wearing his wool jumper from the day before, smelling like an airport, with rain soaking his hair. Droplets slip down his cheek and jaw, livening the dried tears from earlier, and they seep into his mouth; he can taste the salt.

He’s just staring at the flickering sign.

He can’t move.

Well, that’s not really it; he can move, he can feel, and he can see, but he doesn’t want to move.

How fucked up is that?

He doesn’t want to go inside. Despite all of his fears, and his longing for answers, and his need to see his family, he can’t move.

Because that would make everything real.

If he goes inside, if he pushes past those doors and sees the doctors, he can’t deny it anymore. When he goes inside, he has to face the very real possibility that he could lose his wife and daughter. He isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to handle it.

He’s being selfish. He knows that. He should be running inside, yelling at doctors and nurses to tell him what they’re doing about his family. He should be trying to do something, anything to see his wife and daughter.

But why is it so hard to move his feet?

And why does he still feel so numb?

He breathes in the cold air, burning his tender throat.

When he finally opens those doors, past the point of no return, he’s welcomed by a blinding light and the scent of antiseptic. The inside is just as lifeless, with dull white walls that leaves his head throbbing and dingy carpet that scrapes against his boots. He follows the signs, leading to the waiting room.

A new round of tears fills his eyes when he sees his mother’s familiar figure. He hasn’t wanted to just completely collapse into her arms, crying, in years, but now, he just wants to be in the comfort of her presence, to forget the world.

But he can’t, just like Jeff told him, he needs to stay strong, for them. He can’t shut down. He breathes out deeply, raises his head, and calls out for his mother.

Anne turns around, and when he sees Rhiannon pressed tightly to her chest, safe and sound, he feels more of his strength return, like he can breathe a little easier. He feels his knees weaken, but he keeps moving. He doesn’t feel quite so empty and broken and numb, a small ray of hope filling him for the first time in hours. He cups the back of her little head, thumb caressing the soft baby hairs. They’ve gotten thicker since the last time he saw her.

“She’s fine, Harry, just a little shaken up,” Anne says, smiling slightly.

His happiness is short lived when Gemma stands from behind Anne.

“Y/N’s in surgery right now. All we can do is wait,” she says, her eyes ringed with red, mirroring his own.

“Da,” Rhia says, and he smiles, a single tear running down his cheek. He wipes it and sniffles.

Y/N pretended to be upset when that was Rhi’s first word. She said it only hours before he had to leave. They were in their home, and Y/N was helping him lug his suitcases out of the bedroom when he heard it. It sounded like another babble, but it became clearer until—

“Da,” she squealed, bouncing in her little jumper chair. “Dada.” She hit a little plastic toy ring on the tray

“Y/N,” he called out for her and knelt down in front of his baby. She rushed out of the bedroom.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Say it again, peach, show mummy,” he cooed, and Rhi repeated it, again and again, reaching for her father.

“I carry her around for nine months and feed her out of my tit,” Y/N whined, “and this is the thanks I get?”

They laughed, nevertheless. It was a bittersweet moment, as he looks back on it now. He was so happy that Rhiannon was growing and learning, but she was growing up too fast for his liking. He lifted Rhi up out of the chair and pressed a gentle kiss to her chubby cheek, tears stinging behind his eyes.

“She’s just daddy’s little girl. Aren’t ya, peach?”

She left a slobbery kiss, well, her version of a kiss (which was more tongue than lip) on his nose. He scrunched up his face, and her features pinched together in return, mimicking him.

“See, jus’ a little mini-me you are,” he said, tickling under her chin.

And when she called out to him after saying their final farewells in the airport, it made it even more difficult for him to leave.

Maybe it was a sign that he shouldn’t leave.

He should have listened.

He’s knocked back into the present when his baby girl looks up at him, eyes lit up with innocence, completely unaware of the dire situation they’re in. They’re not in their London home, and Y/N’s not there with him. His lips wobble, nose burning. His chest hurts, whether from unshed tears or from the thought of actually losing the love of his life, he doesn’t know.

He cups his baby girl’s cheek.

Rhia has Y/N’s eyes. He loves her eyes. When she first opened them, as he held her for the first time, bundled tightly in his arms, he cried big, fat tears until they were all dried up. He felt nothing but love for this little human because she was a perfect mixture of him and Y/N. He loves Rhiannon’s eyes, but now, they serve as nothing but a deathly reminder of his wife, who could possibly not survive these next few hours.

She gives him a gummy smile, her little tongue slipping out over her lips. There’s some white peeking through her gums, and his heart aches. He wipes some drool from her chin, and she reaches for him, but he backs away.

His stomach sinks, and he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His mother looks at him softly, not a shred of disappointment apparent on her face, as if she knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his own daughter. His throat closes.

How could he be so weak?

Rhia’s smile drips down, but she lays her head back on her Nana’s shoulder. Anne cups the girl’s head, wrapping the thinly woven blanket tighter around her; sadness and pity present in the air.

“‘M gonna check in with the nurse, see how Y/N’s doin’,” he whispers, backing away, and he stumbles down the hallway, following the signs until he sees the nearest nurse, clad in pale blue scrubs. Even though he’s sure the nurse expects him to look nothing less than distraught, he smooths down his clothes and clears his throat, trying to quell the cries building, lips quivering pitifully.

“Do you have any information on Y/N Styles?” His voice is watery and broken.

The nurse looks at him with sad eyes, warm and understanding, like his mother’s. How does everyone else know what he’s feeling besides himself?

“No, I’m sorry, sir,” she says, and he simply nods. He doesn’t have the energy to be upset or press her anymore. The heaviness on his chest building, he doesn’t even try to stop it anymore. He just wants to wallow, curl up and cry until he’s finally able to wake up from this nightmare. He hates the feeling like he’s just given up, accepted that Y/N may not come back from this.

He wants to fight, but all of the fight he has left him as soon as Jeff told him the news.

“Thank you,” he whispers, heading back to the waiting room. He sits down silently on the chairs next to Gemma, the worn wood squealing from the sudden weight. Anne paces in front of them, rocking Rhia back and forth, like she has been for the past few hours; call it a nervous tick or a mother’s instinct, but holding Rhiannon calms her.

Gemma glances at him in the corner of her eye, unsure of how to comfort him in such a situation. He can see her

“I can’t hold her, Gem,” he says weakly, and she looks at him, finding his gaze held on the small little bundle in their mother’s arms. She sighs. “What if—” There’s a bitter taste on his tongue. He covers his mouth with trembling hands, trying to push back the cries swelling in his chest.

“What if Y/N dies?”

It’s one thing to think about it, but saying it aloud breaks his heart in two.

Y/N has been a constant in his life for six years, and in that time, she became his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his stability, who held his heart so close to her. Then, he thinks about his baby girl, who has had her mother for barely seven months, just to have her ripped away so easily because of some drunk who didn’t know when to quit, and he thinks he’s going to be sick again.

It takes only one mistake to set off a series of irreversible events.

Exhausted, he doesn’t fight the sob that comes out, his shoulders shaking as more and more. He heaves for breath, curling into himself. Gemma wraps an arm around him, and he cries into her shoulder. He feels useless, sinking further into the endless pit in his mind. He’s never considered the possibility of Y/N never being there with him, holding his hand through the fire, and now that possibility is very real; he can’t face it.

When he’s run himself dry, he finally looks at her with red-rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks.

“If she dies, I dunno if I could even look at her,” he admits. “To see her eyes...” Gemma just listens. She knows that there’s nothing she could ever say to make the situation any better. She holds her brother’s hands tightly. “I should have been here,” he says, nodding softly.

“Harry, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s that prick’s fault, not yours,” she says angrily. She’s trying to keep calm, for everyone’s sake, but it’s difficult when it feels like her family is being torn apart.

“I would’ve been driving,” Harry insists. “I would be the one in there, not her, and they would’ve been safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Gemma argues softly. She’s never seen him like this before, but that’s to be expected in the situation they’re in. He’s normally such an optimistic person, and to hear him degrade himself is almost too much to handle.

“If she does make it—”

“When she makes it,” Gem snaps.

“She’s gonna hate me. I know it.”

“She has never blamed you for anything, not when fans gave her shit, not when paps would follow her, and especially not when you had to leave. There are some things that are simply out of our control, and she understands. She understands that you can’t be there all the time. She understands that this is your job, and your job has made you who you are today. She won’t blame you for this either, so don’t blame yourself.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. It’s true. She does not understand what he’s gone through. She doesn’t know what it feels like, but she knows that the damage is already done. There’s no use in looking back and analyzing everything to see what they could have done differently.

“I should’ve been here.”

“If only things were that simple.”

“Harry?” A shallow, unfamiliar voice speaks from behind him, making everyone raise their heads.

Anxiety spikes in his stomach. He wonders how anyone could have recognized him, since there is absolutely no one else in the hospital, and how insensitive they would have to be to come talk to him while he’s in such a state. Anger bubbles within him, his skin turning hot as he turns to face the woman.

The blood on her uniform makes him pause.

“My name is Leslie. I was one of the first people on the scene.”

“Do you know anything?” She shakes her head sadly.

“But I was with your wife in the ambulance. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you and…” She coughs, hesitation clear on her features. “And not to give up.”

She probably doesn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words because when he stands and tugs her into a hug, she tenses, hesitantly wrapping her arms around him. Again, like when he saw his baby girl, hope warms him, blanketing and strengthening him.

It’s like Y/N is speaking to him through her.

“Thank you,” he whispers, offering her a weak smile. Just as they part, an older woman rounds the corner. Everyone sits up a little straighter, the air becoming a little tenser, when she gets closer to them.

“She’s resting, now, but she should be up in a few hours,” the doctor smiles.

Harry wants to crumple to the ground as a weight lifts from his chest, and he can finally breathe. He’s run ragged, a broken cry slipping out of his blubbering lips. He tugs Gemma into his arms, who returns the embrace wholeheartedly. Such relief and warmth fills him that he can barely hear the doctor as she continues.

“There was some pretty severe internal bleeding, but we got her stabilized. She also had a couple broken ribs, nothing that time and care won’t heal. After we do some more tests, she should be released in about a week. I can show you to her room, if you’d like?”

“Yes,” Harry cries.

When they reach Y/N’s room, Harry pauses outside and turns to his mother. Her eyes, noticing the confliction in his eyes, are soft and understanding. He never thought about seeing her in such a state until now, but least she’s still with him, his little fighter, just like Rhi.

“Mum, can I, uh…” He nibbles on his lip, holding his arms out.

“Course,” Anne says, moving the baby in his open arms.

“Hi, peach,” he says, smiling. She sleeps contentedly, her features relaxed. His heart twinges as she burrows herself into his chest, and he wraps the blanket a little tighter around her.

“We’ll go to the cottage and get some extra clothes for you all,” Gemma says, knowing that Harry needs this time alone. She tugs her mother, who hesitates but soon follows.

He expected her condition to be poor, but that doesn’t stop the burning in his eyes when he sees her, hooked up to what seems like dozens of machines, her face swollen, and stitches along her hairline; she looks so fragile, so broken, but her heart beat is strong, breathing steady. As if sensing her father’s discomfort, Rhi burrows further in his arms, snuffling lightly.

He settles in a chair next to Y/N’s bed, one hand holding hers while the other arm cradles his baby.

“Gave daddy a scare earlier, peach,” he coos. “Daddy’s sorry that he wasn’t there with ya.”

He promises her many things, that she’s safe, that nothing will ever happen to her, and that her mum is safe, too, but most importantly, he promises to be there for her. He cries silently, careful to keep the tears and painful jolts of his chest from waking Rhi. He just can’t help it. After the dust settles and the smoke is cleared, the gravity of the situation weighs on him: he could have lost the two most important people in his life, and he would not have been there.

A nurse stops by to bring a bassinet for Rhiannon and to check on Y/N, who is doing wonderfully, especially after such an invasive surgery.

Y/N wakes after about an hour, just as the sun peaks beyond the horizon. Harry is still up, of course, watching his girls, finding comfort in the heart monitor. He pushes the bassinet back and forth with his foot.

“H?”

He beams when he hears her voice, gravely and worn, but it’s her voice nonetheless, comforting and warm. He wishes that he could hold her and kiss her until his love heals her wounds, but he has to settle for holding her hand and kissing her forehead for the time being.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, tears slipping past her swollen eyes. “It happened so fast.”

“What are you sorry for, lovie? You did absolutely nothin’ wrong,” he says, brushing back her hair.

“You had to leave because I wasn’t being careful enough, and I—”

His heart aches, eyes glazing over. He hates that he made her feel like his job was more important than her.

“No, none of that,” he says, shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter. Listen, this was not your fault, and as far as tour goes, it’s not nearly as important as you two. I would drop everythin’ if you needed me to. There is nothin’ that I wouldn’t do for you. You know that, right? You both are my life, now; I made that promise the day we got married and the day she was born. You both are my number one priority, and I haven’t been treating you like it. For that, I’m so sorry.”

“Harry—”

“It was selfish of me to think that I could live in the past and the present, live the life that I used to while trying to be a father and a husband. It wasn’t fair of me, and I am so, so very sorry, babylove.”

He kisses her, careful of her bruises, and she sinks further into the bed, comforted by his warm words and tender touches. Her eyes, fluttering with exhaustion and filled with tears, refuse to close, as if she’s afraid that he’ll be gone by the time she wakes. He runs his thumb along her cheek, mindful of the swollen areas. For the first time in what feels like years, his mind is calm, basking in the feeling of happiness as he’s finally able to feel and see his family, safe and within his reach. That’s all he’s ever wanted, and as he sees her nodding off, he presses a quick kiss to her knuckles, whispering.

“Rest, lovie, I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

She falls asleep with a faint smile.

Perhaps, fate isn’t cruel as many think. Just like anything, it can be merciful and loving for those who are worth mercy and love.

—

[purplerose244]

Thoughts journal Ninjago season 13!!! 🤩🤩 (3/4)

I am enjoying the season A LOT. The reveal has been thrown already, everything seems to be leading towards something special about Rock Mom and I couldn't hope for something better!! I know Lou will be back so I guess a flashback?... I'M SO EXCITED 💕💕

Alright, let's start!!

DUNGEON PARTY!

Side note, we're past the season and no Nexo Knights reference. Me sad, but me not quitting like ninja!! 💪💪

Korgran of METALONIA?!?! WHERE KARLOF COMES FROM!!! Oh you just love to feed me with good throwbacks, now do you Ninjago crew 😍

Plundar the thief, yeah, the attire gives it away although it is nice. And Fungus... huh... well that explains the mushrooms on the hat I guess 😅

Yep, there we go, a party of adventurers, the DnD situation promised 👈👈 He said loot, I saw a 20 faced dice, nice nice

In these recent seasons adventurers just won't like to do adventures for one reason or another, first uncle Powers, now these guys? I mean Ninjago is in danger every freaking time and you risk your life at every step and there's a new formidable villain every like five seconds but... huh... what was my point again?

THE ANIME STYLE IS BACK 😂😂 Oh boy I can tell we're in for a train to crazy town

I'm thinking this dude looks a lot like He-Man... of course he does, the HECK, am I noticing this just now? 😑

I do agree with mister Korgran's father reluctance about talking like that (I saw too many anime characters like that 😂), but Karlof uses the third person too. Either it's common in Metalonia, or there's a general lack of education there 😅 (I LOVE METAL BOY I MISS HIM 🖤🖤)

Talking axe that doesn't talk, nice 😂

Okay... okay, I need a moment

This is too cute. I know her head is a bit too big but LOOK AT THEM 💛🤍💛🤍 Has Chompy never grown?... wait he did got big that one time... okay... okay, never mind

Well that's a pretty nice party, you got your barbarian, your magic user and your rogue. Kinda misses a healer but still... tomorrow I'm doing a DnD session with my friends and I wanna sound like I know stuff 😂

I just noticed that I haven't seen hidden trap doors like that since Chen, the ABC of villains right there my friends 👆

So the King didn't become evil just because of the skull, he actually wished to obtain it and use the dark power. I get that he wants to defend the city but he is basically remorceless about everything else, so he is guilty. Also DRAGON ABUSER 😡

Poor Vania, but she overcame her Skylor situation very quickly. Proud 💛

There we go with the encouragement, you go Rocky!! We have a crazy Skull dude to turn into dust!! 👿👿

Wait, a promise he made a long time ago? Rock mom?

DUNGEON CRAWL!

ROCK MOM!!! YAAAASSS!!! FINALLY SHE'S HERE!!! 🖤🖤🖤

Oh holy FSM, my heart 💔

MY HEART HURTS SO MUCH. Cole as a kid, Lou is back, Rock Mom IS SICK AND WILL DIE, all the drawings, the picture of them together 😭😭

I cannot, freaking, this kid doesn't want his mom to be sick and he's gotten into troubles at school and she wants him to fight and be strong and right and SHE HAS HIS SAME EYEBROWS 😢😢😢😢😢😢

This scene was really heartbreaking, such a genuine situation with a kid that wants her mom to be fine and proud of him 🖤

Just looked at her VA and it's Erin Matthews 🤩 So first I'm counting it as a Nexo Knights reference just because MACY AND ROBIN ❤🖤❤🖤 Second, wasn't "the mom" going to be voiced by Jillian? Is it... is it Maya? Is she coming back? MAYBE NEXT SEASON??? NYA SEASON?!?!? 🤯🤯

Oh, we're moving on? So... so there's still the stuff about Rock Mom's past to uncover, still unsure if she was the one of the blades for the two tribes

PLUNDAR WE DO NOT DISRESPECT COLE INTO THIS HOUSE VANIA MY GIRL YOU ARE SPEAKING FOR ME TOO 💪💪

The connection between Cole and his mom is the earth itself, I'm loving this concept so much. It's true that he never found himself this deep into his element before, the Caves of Despair were mines but never this deep. This really is rock bottom... HECK YEAH

Well Cole...

Welcome to the colored eyes because of elemental power ninja team!! 💚❤🧡 (without counting the forbidden scroll moments) I LOVE WHEN IT HAPPENS!!! I'M GETTING SO PROUD AND EMOTIONAL!!! I'M PROUDOTIONAL!!! 🤯

Aww, Cole saving his son sensei, very nice. They did save each other a lot 🤷‍♀️

This place reminds me a lot of the Fire Temple where Kai got himself into trouble in season 1 but then saved Lloyd, one of my favorite and most memorable episode of the show... I'M TOO NOSTALGIC RIGHT NOW LET'S MOVE ON

NEVER MIND COLE IS TAKING CHARGE LIKE OLD TIMES HE IS FINALLY THE LEADER AGAIN I'M GONNA CRY ROCKY I'M SO HAPPY YOU DESERVE THIS 🖤

Wu's spinjitzu!! Always nice to see it 😊 And yes Adam is a good boy, and for my arachnophobia is a little freaky saying it 😅

Ah, good Plundar, Cole needs all the appreciation of the world because HE IS SUCH A GOOD PERSON AND AMAZING WARRIOR AND I LOVE HIM AAAAAA

This is probably my favorite episode for now, got Rock Mom, got elemental powers, got a lot of Cole in all of his glory: the leader with a clear smart mind able to lead even strangers, with big heart for what's important 👏👏

I feel like this season is giving him glory, I'm curious about how it will end!!

GRIEF-BRINGER

Okay I know it's the name of the dragon... and it gets me a little antsy 😅

Back to the munce! Still doing as good as ever I see! 😅 And lol, you can't blame Nya for not being nice Jay! Although she is kinda best friends with Ronin who double crossed her multiple times... okay, I see your reasoning Bluebell

There we go, Nya making them listen. I honestly could have seen her just grabbing one of them and make them fly through the the room, still cool though 😎

Back to the geckles! Also doing as good as ever! 😅 These little purple guys are so dang cute, seeing my flame babe trying to lead is so PRECIOUS, and even more PRECIOUS is Zane giving him support... and a rock in the face 🤍🤍

Gotta say

I'm more and more fascinated by their culture 😂😂

Aww little Gleck, everything had started with him after all... wait... HER NAME IS LILLY?!?! ROCK MOM HAS A NAME!!! AND SHE IS GILLIE/MILLIE!!! I KNEW IT!!! 🤩🤩

I think I saw the name somewhere, didn't think it was actually her. I always headcanoned her as Gaia, but Lilly is a very sweet name too 💕

It is pretty nice that even though we as viewers didn't know what happened to Lilly, the ninja knew. It's obvious, they've known each other for so long, but still. It feels nice to see this 😊

Oh-oh, Skull dude is up to something... and he said the title 👈👈

Zane keeps being the sweetest thing ever created, le cute dude 🤍🤍 Never thought I'd see Tin Can and Hothead discussing about lies while two slugs race each other...

I don't know if it's the new animation but the armored suits look CRAZY GOOD, the metal and the details are awesome!! I approve the suits of this season 👍

Pff, they are talking down his sister, if he knew they would be literally toasted 🔥

HUG HUG BEAUTIFUL LEGO HUG!!! And she lifts him up, omg the Smith siblings are back and they are so CUTE 😍

Yep, only he can talk down his sister... and possibly be annihilated right after 😅

Oh, the dragon that almost destroyed the two tribes... OH THE DRAGON THAT ALMOST DESTROYED THE TWO TRIBES!!! 😱😱

NO GUYS DON'T LEAVE LLOYD AND ZANE BEHIND, THEY ARE THE MOST PRONE TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES 😭😱😭😱😭😱

The cringe Kai, the cringe never leaves you alone you beautiful idiot ❤

I cannot believe the animators managed to make Lloyd's LEGO hair swoosh, I must applaude them 👏👏👏 Also POOR BABY ON THE GROUND GIVE HIM A VACATION FOR CRYING OUT LOUD

Well aren't things getting even more complicated 😅 Where is Cole? We need season superstar pronto!

MASTERS NEVER QUIT

Awww, major throwback to the show's most famous motto right in the title! NINJA NEVER QUIT!!! LET'S GO THEN!!! 🤩

The upply team! With the lava beast back... I could easily make comment about how it could be a representation of Cole's feelings since it's LAVA with EARTH and FIRE, and he is running from them... I'M JUST RAMBLING MOVING ON 🖤❤🖤❤

Cole misses the Caves of Despair maybe, he wants to have a round with the carts like in Possession 😂 Was that why he knew it was going to work eventually? That would be histerical, especially since back then they all almost fell into the lava 😅😅

The Heart of the Mountain? Secret temple of the masters of Earth? Possibly hidden in Shintaro? Spinjitzu Burst? Wu, let me ask you this... just in case... is there... perhaps...

IS THERE SOMETHING YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD US??? 😡😡

He is definitely and officially old, only reason why he keeps forgetting to warn people about stuff 😑 I mean, it's not major like with Morro or Aspheera, I guess it's an improvement?... kinda?

So you learn spinjitzu burst if you're surrounded by your element, that sounds pretty awesome! I wonder how it could be with all the others, this can open up kinda like a quest for the true potential but with different places and lots of OP powers and I'M INTO IT 🤩🤩🤩

Okay season, I get it

YOU WANNA MAKE ME CRY 😭😭 I love this aztec vibe, so cool and appropriate she looks STUN 🖤

I didn't expect this much introspection about Cole, I thought it was going to be kinda last minute like with Jay in Prime Empire. I'm so thankful it's not like that, freaking yes. YES. GO COLE BURST OUT!!

... okay, take your time sweetie, no rush. The other ninja are just going to be fried but eh, happens all the time 🤷‍♀️

VANIA MAH GIRL 💕 I understand Wu, I mean the guys kinda learned all they needed already back when they started to train Lloyd. Ever since then, they had been not master and students, but just family. And you always need family, no matter how far you go 🖤

Awwww, Wu! You got your own development too! 👍 So nice to hear "ninja never quit" again, can't be too sure but it's been a while 😍

Let's hope the guys are doing fine resisting while Team Cole arrives 😎😎

[spnsmile]

This might as well be the fathers talking about Jack fighting god and fighting their feelings. Can't fight both!

#tears tag #fluff tag #hurtcomfort tag

15.11. Coda

When Castiel found out that while hunting for Jack, the Winchesters clashed heads with the Goddess of Luck herself, he was furious.

To know about the dead or alive gamble where they naturally lost made all the butterflies in his stomach burn, if that was the correct expression.

But to realize he could have gotten Jack and lost the Winchesters at the same time? It soured his mood the entire day.

He didn't stop giving Sam and Dean glaring looks that made Sam duck his head while Dean, well, stays Dean.

"You could have lost your lives." he says with gritted teeth and reproachful tone as Dean sits with him in the library because the angel wouldn't stop glaring the whole day and needed to be appeased for Sam's peace of mind.

Dean only smacks his lips on his glass.

Castiel couldn't help glowering at the nonchalance.

"Look, Cas. It doesn't matter, okay? Me and Sam are fine."

"And if you weren't?" Cas says heatedly, "what would have happened if she took your lives, Dean?"

"Then at least you got Jack-"

"Don't give me that." Cas says sternly, deep voice almost growling it made Dean look up. He finds the angel glaring sharply, in commmander mode, "Just don't."

They both glower at each other, Castiel with that lump in his throat while Dean shakes his head and leans on his knees.

"It was a gamble." the hunter says quietly.

"I wouldn't have agreed with you risking your lives on a pool game."

Dean shrugs.

"Yeah, Cas, you would have stabbed her."

"No doubt about that. What was I supposed to expect from you and Sam, going head on against lady luck?"

"You weren't there. There were these people... We couldn't just leave them." he lowers his head. Castiel watches him for a moment before sighing heavily.

"I'm just glad nothing bad happened, Dean."

"You know what she called us? Fortuna? She called us heroes."

A somber mood falls at the pair once the younger members of the group had slipped to their rooms, leaving the best friends by the table, soaking in the comfort of each other's presence. Unti the angel breaks it quietly.

Castiel stares with a small smile forming on his lips towards his friend.

"You are."

Dean scoffs. "Heroes who let kids fight adult battles, Cas? Tell me what you really think."

Castiel is silent for a moment, eyes on the glass of wine he is holding.

"I'm proud of Jack."

Dean rolls his eyes at the angel who gives him a soft look, "I'm proud of you too, Dean. But this is a powerplay of the gods and other beings... My kind. Not yours and Sam's. Maybe it's time for the two of you playing in the front lines and let us do the fighting. You and Sam have done enough battles more than necessary. I think it's up to me and Jack-"

"So it's me and Jack now?" Dean doesn't look at him for a moment. When he did, it's sharp and critical green eyes gazing over the blues. "You gonna bench us because we're humans?"

Castiel leans forward, blue eyes intent on Dean. "Because I care. I will be more at ease if you and Sam are safe."

"You really think that?"

He and Dean shared a long look, and then after a period where Dean just makes a face the same one he used when he asked Castiel if he's letting Jack, Dean falls silent.

And a silent Winchester is never a good thing. Castiel watches as Dean stands up and bids him goodnight.

Sighing, Castiel went to check on Jack, to stay with him as much as he can. He tells himself Dean needed time.

But in the middle of the night, while he and Jack sit talking in the library, the Nephilim suddenly stills, head inclining to the side like he's listening.

"Jack?" Castiel asks, worried.

"Dean." says the Nephilim, brows furrowed. Castiel's pupils dilate. He hangs for Jack's every word. "He's praying."

Castiel mirrors Jack's expression. He doesn't hear anything from Dean so-

"To Who?"

Jack frowns deeper.

"Michael? But I thought he's-"

Castiel bolts up from his chair and races towards the hunter's room, Jack staring after him.

"Dean!"

He doesn't bother knocking. He pulls the door open, takes one look over Dean sitting at the edge of his bed with hands clasped together. Dean startles.

"Cas... "

"What are you doing?" Castiel demands, looming upon Dean.

The hunter opens his mouth when Michael suddenly speaks in his mind, jolting him a little as he stares into space. Before anything could be said, Castiel yanks Dean's collar and roughly pulls him up, cutting the connection.

"The hell, Cas!"

"You're not going to let Michael in again! I won't let you!"

"Oh, so you let Jack do whatever he wants but bench me? Am I the kid here?"

"No! That's not-"

"Dammit, Cas! If a kid can sacrifice himself, so can I, now leave me alone! Michael's agreed he needs to deal with Chuck this time! No turning back! I'm fighting!"

"No, Dean!"

Dean's eyes darken, his voice lowers.

"Cas, don't fucking make me banish you from my room! I'm doing this. I let you and Jack do everything you want now let me do this!"

"No!"

"I don't need your permission!"

"No!"

"What no!?"

"No, Dean! You have to stay!" Cas flings his arms around the hunter, his whole body slamming on Dean's as he pulls him tightly in his arms.

Dean grits his teeth when he feels the pressure, wraps his arms around his angel too. It takes a moment and he realizes the angel is shaking so bad, it drains the hunter's will to argue. He settles his anger aside and drops his face on Cas' shoulder.

"Dammit, Cas... You can't ask me to stay behind. You know I don't do that. I don't stay safe." he whispers, doesn't stop himself from planting his lips on the side of the angel's cheeks whose face is buried on his neck.

Castiel breaths heavily on his collar.

"I need you here, Dean. We... I need someone to go back to, we all do. We need something to look forward to when we think of winning. Winning is not an empty bunker... Winning is not your empty room... Winning is not our empty seats...winning is staying together... I... I need to make sure we win. It means all of you are here..."

Dean pressed his lips close and looks up his open door where Jack and Sam are standing. He flickers his eyes on his brother who sadly looks back at him. To Jack whose worrying his little forehead over them.

Losing his family overnight? Dean can understand.

Dean tightens his grip on Cas who hasn't spoken since. For even Cas to be so... frightened. It's so rare, yet so true and pure. The hunter sighs on the angel's neck again.

"Why d'you think I wanted to help, Cas? It's coz I wanna protect that dream too... I wanna protect you, Sam and Jack. It's not a suicide mission. I'm gonna fight to get back all of you and not lose anyone. Not this time. So you gotta let me. We gotta trust each other."

He sees Sam nod from the corner of his eyes. Sees Sam take Jack and they close the door, leaving Dean with his angel.

After what felt like eternity, Dean pulls from Cas a little and looks down his wet face. It should be illegal to still look so hot even when crying. Cas is just that beautiful.

"Didn't think you were so worried for me." he smiles, wiping away the streak of tears on Cas' cheeks. Looking at his angel fondly.

"You have no idea what you are to me. " Cas murmured, sinking on Dean's arms again. "Don't call Michael. Please, Dean..."

Dean doesn't answer. Cas tightens the embrace and grumbles on Dean's collar bone.

"Clingy bastard." Dean chuckles and slowly steps backwards to his bed. "You gonna cling on me like this forever?"

Cas says something on the line of "bold of you", "assume I'd even let go" with mouth hot on Dean's neck.

"Oh? So you gonna stay with me forever, Cas? You gonna be here after everything? With me? " Dean hits the edge of the bed, but doesn't drop. He has to stop. His question comes out nonchalant, but it rang of his worry

Castiel pulls up and finally stares him in the eyes, erasing any wall that's been between them for long, leaving only trust and openess. Those blue eyes rob Dean off his breath, like always.

"Say it then." Castiel says, voice gravelly, so endearing and appealing. Dean can't imagine falling for anyone else. Not in this life, not in any other next life. Cas will always be his it. He will never ask anyone this. He's never let anyone either, but for Cas-

"Stay."

Cas tackles him down the bed, their bodies tangling, no air or space with their lips locking, their souls tuning.

Stay. That's it. That's their win.

[reformedkingsmanagent]

Hey, I know this may be a bit out of the usual but I loved your charlie pirate au so much so I was thinking of charlie in more period stuff. Maybs an arrogent Prince Charlie been put in an arranged marriage with a Princess they don't get along too well untill the wedding night ... ;) NSFW

A/N: Hey, I’m back! I’m trying, anyway. I really hope this is acceptable. and of course, sorry if it’s not! I present to you:

The Arranged Marriage AU

The normally bare hill above the small border town now featured a large structure, being put up piece by piece. The townsfolk looked on in wonder as it steadily grew every day. After nearly a fortnight, the growth stalled, and more people arrived and set to work.

Brightly colored tents, recently erected, were adorned with lavish silks and tapestries, carried carefully inside. Not a single expense was spared as the tents consumed furniture and decor fit for a palace. It was an unusual event, after all. The meeting of the two kingdoms was held at the exact spot where their borders met, the line deliberately passing along the middle of the main tent, dividing each side perfectly. The meeting would determine the future of both.

A truce was to be made. With the fighting halted for months now as negotiations were underway, a meeting had finally been called. The details had been worked out. A compromise reached. The area sat empty, save for those maintaining the tents, awaiting the arrival of royalty.

A wedding would take place in two days’ time.

*****

“I won’t marry him,” your cousin Amelia declared. “I’ll hang first,” she promised, standing in the center of the sitting room, everyone else gathered at the edges, pretending to be paying attention to whatever was in their hands.

You watched from beneath your lashes, eyes supposedly focused down at the book in your hands, though it lay long-forgotten now as she went back and forth with your parents, both having just put their feet up after an evening stroll together.

“Don’t be dramatic,” your mother sighed. “It’s not so bad.” She reached over for your father’s hand. They shared a knowing look. “Besides, you haven’t even met him yet. Reserve your judgment for when you are sitting across from him at dinner. And even then, regardless of your first impression there is no changing this, Amelia. You must be married. This will secure peace for two large kingdoms, take pride in that. This is an honor.”

You wouldn’t dare contradict your mother, but you could see how unpleasant the whole venture was. You were suddenly overwhelmingly grateful it wasn’t you being offered up on the block. You likened it to standing on the great stone cliffs at the edge of the ocean, just like poor Andromeda, waiting for untold monstrosities to come and steal you away, the virgin sacrifice. For the good of the many.

*****

“Why do I have to wear this stuffy dress if I’m not the one getting married?!” You complained, pulling at the corset moments before the bodice of the gown was slipped over your head. “I don’t want to go, tell them I’ve fallen ill,” you begged. You got small hidden smiles in response.

Your hair was tamed and kept out of your face as much as possible. It would be unseemly for you to not be present, you were told. Still, you planned your escape with each change of venue. You could run away as everyone boarded the carriage. Hop out once it started going, even. Sneak away as everyone prepared to enter the tents. But with your father’s watchful eye, you didn’t have even a moment to yourself to put any of your plans into action.

With a deep sigh, you stepped through the flaps of the main tent, encountering a large room that would’ve appeared as a great hall if not for the grass floor and lack of stone.

The large, long table in the center of the room was cluttered with various glasses and dishes sitting empty, silverware shined to mirror-like levels on either side. People were still rushing around, making the last of the preparations as everyone waited for the other party to arrive.

Amelia stood beside you, beautiful, carrying herself with grace that had been missing the previous day. Either she’d accepted her fate or was still working out some way to avoid it all. You thought the latter. Still, you felt like she might need some comfort.

“It’ll be alright, Amelia. I’m sure father wouldn’t set you up for a bad match,” you reassured her. She looked down at you with a frown.

“I’m sure you’re just happy it’s not you.” She moved further into the room, leaving you standing there a bit shocked. She had every right to be upset, but it still stung.

“They’ve arrived,” a footman passed along to your father. You glanced over your shoulder at him and saw him nod. After a few minutes of standing around, seeing how far you could push your heels into the soft grass as you weren’t allowed to sit, a partition on the other side of the room opened and the other group passed through, a much larger party than your own.

There were wry smiles and greetings traded between your parents and the two ornately dressed royals that met them in the middle of the room, the rest of the group milling around much like you.

“Rather warm in here, wouldn’t you agree?” You looked up at the deep voice, wondering who on earth had decided to interrupt you stamping your initials into the ground, but felt your cheeks get hot in response.

He was gorgeous, with high, pronounced cheekbones and a strong nose, eyebrows straight but angled up with feigned interest. His eyes were a bright blue and his lips were vividly pink, as if the heat were affecting him. His jaw was covered with an even, well-groomed beard, and his brown hair held a slight curl, making you want to run your hands through it. But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

He was tall, towering over you a bit as you stopped your work and made to respond to him. He offered a smile, his large hands clasped in front of him catching your attention.

If anyone knew what you were thinking about you’d be cast out of the family. You could feel his eyes on you and wondered if he could guess it. While no ring appeared to be on his finger, you couldn’t simply flirt, not here. Your father would have control over your ultimate destiny, as much as you loathed the idea. You didn’t think your father would like him. He looked like trouble.

“You get used to the heat,” you spoke.

“I sure hope not,” he replied, his eyes dipping low.

His smile faltered as you failed to respond. He made more of an effort to get you talking. Why he singled you out, you had no clue. “This is sort of a strange turn of events, wouldn’t you say? Sort of feels like I’m knocking on death’s door—”

“Charles,” The older man speaking with your parents called out, and ‘Charles’ offered a small smile as an apology before turning and heading over.

You got back to work, only just finishing the letter before the meal was announced to be ready. You sat down beside your father at the large table, on the end, and on the other side of him sat your mother, with Amelia beside her and Amelia’s parents and a few other guests taking up the remaining seats on your half of the long table.

You spotted Charles approaching and wondered if you’d get to talk to him again, but somehow you thought not, especially with your father so close. He was directed towards the middle of the table anyway, and you frowned to yourself as he took his seat across from Amelia.

You remembered your mother’s words about sitting across from the mystery betrothed at dinner and frowned. He was marrying Amelia? You couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that overtook you. You hadn’t even had a conversation yet, it was purely superficial, but you knew what some of your options were back home. Nothing like him. Despite that, though, you knew you didn’t want to get married, not yet anyway. And when you did, it wouldn’t be rushed like this. Out of convenience. You still held on to the foolish notion that you’d be able to marry for love someday.

“Charles, here,” The king spoke, gesturing to a spot further down the table. You were filled with relief. He was just mistaken. So who was Amelia marrying then? You watched with great interest for anyone else to take a seat across from her. But before that, your father stood as Charles sat across from you.

You could tell by everyone’s expressions that this was highly unusual.

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded, gesturing to Charles. So he was due to marry Amelia then.

“The girl has no prospects worthy of a prince,” the opposing king explained. “This gives a more direct claim to the throne, something you were no doubt avoiding offering up.”

He meant you. Oh god, he meant you.

“It was agreed, we signed the decree—”

“Accept the offer.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a demand. “Accept the offer, or there’s no truce.”

“Reg,” your mother whispered, hand going to your father’s arm. Warning him. Her words were clear in her tone. ‘You can’t honestly be considering this.’

You risked a glance to Charles, whose eyes were focused on your father as his decision would affect him too.

If you closed your eyes, you could hear the waves crashing somewhere behind you, hands bound tightly with coarse rope to the pole embedded in the ground, unable to see what was coming out of the ocean, reaching desperately for you.

“If you knew you would do this, why accept the initial offer?” Your father asked. There was venom in his voice, and you opened your eyes.

Charles was staring at you, a bit pale himself. He averted his eyes and focused on the wood grain of the table. You watched him, wondering what you did wrong that morning to bring this on yourself. You couldn’t marry him.

“What’s to prevent you from marrying her off to another ally, once we’ve left with your previous offering? What’s to stop you from undermining this entire treaty? Lona’s got a son about Charlie’s age, I bet you’ve already discussed it with him,” he accused.

Your father didn’t take the accusation well. He growled before slamming a fist down on the table, causing just about everyone to jump. “How dare you,” he replied. Still, he didn’t say ‘no’ outright. That only worried you more. Would he have married you off to someone else, masquerading it as something that would be good for the country? You glanced further down the table and detected relief on Amelia’s face.

“Reg, you can’t—”

Your father hung his head, and your mother stopped speaking, realizing he had made up his mind.

He wouldn’t look at you, even after taking his seat at the table. Meanwhile, you sat there stunned, unable to pick your eyes up from the untouched food in front of you. After the third course came and went and not a word spoken at the table, the large hand from earlier reached across, fingers softly brushing over yours.

“You ought to eat something,” Charlie urged.

You didn’t want him to see you upset, thinking it would make a terrible first impression, so you didn’t look at him. You reluctantly pulled your hands back, picking up the fork with the dexterity of a five year old, finding your motor function diminished as you devoted 100% of your attention on what had just occurred.

If only you had been successful in your plans to evade the meeting. If only. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault, you knew that, but you couldn’t accept it. Your whole life was here, and now you would be expected to pack up and move to another country, far away from home. You would have no friends, no one to trust or confide in. Truly alone.

You knew Amelia’s things were waiting in a separate carriage. She would be able to go home now, with things back to normal. And your own parents had barely put up a fight. They were letting you go.

How could the situation change so completely in such a short amount of time?

*****

You weren’t allowed to see Charlie for the remainder of the evening. It’s not like you knew what to say to him anyway. It was a blessing, in a way. But still you couldn’t stop thinking. You wondered what sort of person he was. Was he kind? Had he fought in any battles? Did he even want to be king? Was he as scared as you?

You and everyone else pretended not to hear your parents arguing until late, when they both ran out of steam. Neither of them visited to check on you or give any last-minute advice. You didn’t sleep.

********

“Your dress is pretty,” Charlie mumbled, sitting across from you in the carriage. You kept your cheek pressed against the side, looking out the window as the trees passed by. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You felt like you were leaving yourself behind. The waves were deafening now.

“I’m sorry, about all this. I like the thought of this even less than you.” You doubted that was true. You didn’t think it could be possible. “But there’s no going back now. It’s been signed. We’re getting married, today,” he stressed. “Can’t you just talk to me?”

“Take me back home.” It was worth a shot.

Charlie sighed. “I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t do that for you. Is there anything else? Something that might make this easier?”

“Let me go.”

“I’m not your captor,” he spat. He rubbed at his jaw, growing annoyed. “You may not mean to, but you’re really making me feel worthless right now. I know this isn’t ideal, but am I really that repulsive?”

You looked over at him in surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t,” he waved off your apology. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, stretching his legs out so his knee knocked against yours. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re lovely. I’ve seen plenty of poor matches in my life, but this doesn’t feel like it’s going to be one of them.”

You were comforted by his words, though you didn’t say so. “What about Amelia?”

“Who’s Amelia?” He asked, meeting your eyes. His gaze was intense. You pulled at the top of your dress to make sure you were covered completely.

“My cousin, the person you were supposed to marry.”

“Oh, right, her,” he sighed. “I honestly thought I was meant to marry you from the beginning, or perhaps I hoped it was the case. Once we arrived, I approached you to try to make all this easier. If we can just get to know each other, it won’t feel so strange, don’t you think?”

You didn’t know if any amount of talking would ever allow you to feel comfortable. But he was trying, it seemed. It was more than you could’ve asked for.

“Where will we live?” You mumbled, still looking out the window.

“In the palace,” he answered. “We’ll have our own rooms on the other side, away from my parents, thank god. There’s a nice garden, just outside the bedroom…” he trailed off, watching you. While he’d been explaining things to you, you started crying. “Hey, it’s alright,” he tried to comfort you, reaching over and laying one of his large hands on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He released you and sat back, crossing his arms again.

You felt shame for crying in front of him, but it finally sunk in that there was no going back. The waves washed over you finally and you were swept away.

*******

You could hear them, their whispers, their comments. You could feel their eyes on you as you made your way up to the heavy wooden doors. The gathered crowds were waiting from behind the metal gates, not having been invited in to the royal wedding. You wished you were nowhere near to royalty. No one from your family was here to watch you be married off. Perhaps it was best that they weren’t there. You didn’t know what you’d say to them if you saw them again.

“Stop it,” the woman spoke harshly from beside you. “You are marrying into this family, and there are many who would kill to be where you are. Act grateful,” she ordered. You quickly wiped at your cheeks and avoided looking at anyone, focusing on not tripping as you made your way up the steps and into the cathedral.

It felt more like a funeral procession. You remembered Charlie’s words when you first met, something about knocking on death’s door, and you wondered how he was doing, with all this happening. But you were the one who had to leave everything behind. So far you’d experienced nothing but stern instructions and cold glances. It made you realize Charlie was the only person you could say you knew anything about. And what little you knew was laughable.

And now you had to marry him.

You didn’t know if you were capable of loving him. You had to be honest with yourself. You didn’t have a choice. You were too heavily guarded to run away, and there was no one coming to save you from this. But it didn’t mean you’d suddenly start enjoying it. You were going to be locked up in a palace, your only task to push out babies, more specifically sons. You bitterly regretted ever reading books that let you believe you’d find someone to love someday. Your own parents were probably a rare exception, but they still were forced together. You wished you’d taken the time to ask them more about it. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so lost, uncertain.

“Chin up. Eyes forward. And quit looking so sulky. You’re marrying a prince, and a fine one at that. This is an honor.” Her words didn’t change how you felt. But you did your best to at least keep a blank expression on your face. He hadn’t done anything to deserve you sobbing wildly while standing across from him.

You were made to walk the long path down the aisle alone. It gave you time to think, too much time. Once you could make out Charlie standing ahead you nearly stopped. Someone nearby muttering something about you urged you forward again. You didn’t want to hear them. You felt so alone.

His hands were outstretched towards you, and you eagerly took them, if only to finally be out of earshot of their whispers. He was the only welcoming presence in the entire room. You were grateful for that.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered. You felt your face get warm, but you didn’t dare look over at him. He stayed silent for the rest of the ceremony, until he was required to speak. The same went for you, but when you had to speak your voice was shaky, uneven. You tried to calm yourself but there was nothing you could do. You were scared.

Moments later a beautifully crafted ring was placed on your finger. Your hand felt oddly heavy. You had to slide a metal band onto his finger, and you felt how warm he was, a sharp contrast to the freezing room. He held onto your hands, squeezing them and giving you a small smile. You managed to give one back, though you were terrified.

He looked handsome, more than he did before, if that was possible. If only you’d been given time to properly get to know him. Maybe then this could’ve been a joyous occasion and not such a sad one.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Charlie warned. You were grateful he mentioned it because you would’ve been completely surprised by it, having forgotten what a wedding was like.

His touch was gentle, not possessive in the slightest. You could hear cheers as his lips met yours, though you were immediately distracted by how soft his lips were. You found yourself leaning into him more and more until he took a step back, separating the two of you. His hand wrapped around your lower back as he turned you towards the gathered audience. You found yourself clinging to him as you were led outside into the cold again. This time you had a source of warmth.

**********

“There’s going to be a feast, and after that we will…” He stopped, a strange look passing over his face as he sat beside you in the open carriage.

“We will what?”

His hand hadn’t left yours since he helped you into the carriage. He did a good job of keeping you distracted from the looks and words hurled your way. You had a feeling he was very much beloved by his people, a thought that gave you hope. But with that you knew that they definitely wouldn’t think you worthy of him. You agreed.

“Well, we will have to…consummate the…marriage…” He seemed reluctant to say it, and you felt shy immediately, and a bit foolish that you’d managed to forget that part. “I’m still sorry about how rushed everything is, I begged them to give you time to acclimate, but they wouldn’t…”

You were touched that he even tried. That he was worried about how you felt. It was a great sign.

“Are you okay?”

You looked up at him, taking in his pink cheeks and nose, and the concern in his eyes. “I’m…” You needed to try harder, to actually attempt to make this work. There was no alternative. “I’ll be okay, I think.”

His smile was incredibly bright. “I think so too.”

*********

“So this is my favorite, and I think you’ll like it too, it’s a bit like a delicacy from your kingdom, just a bit…spicier, maybe,” Charlie explained. He spoke to you through each course, making sure you wanted for nothing. You could see his mother scolding him for not paying enough attention to the guests, but he didn’t seem to take heed.

“It’s very good,” you agreed, the two of you sharing a look that had you feeling intensely nervous. It felt like the most normal thing in the world, all things considered.

His smile broadened for a moment as he kept his eyes focused on yours. “I already told you, but you look amazing, you know. If I saw you in court, under different circumstances, well…” His face grew a bit more red but he wasn’t daunted. “I’d probably get myself in loads of trouble.”

You were flattered, but that wasn’t a concern anymore. You studied the ring on your finger, moving it so the light hit it differently. “Guess you don’t have to worry now.”

“No, I don’t,” he replied, his voice a bit less sure. You looked up at him, realizing the look he had in his eye was something close to affection. Your face burned, but you didn’t look away.

“Charlie, you ought to go and visit Rose, don’t you think?” His mother interrupted. Rose? Who was Rose? You wanted to beg him not to leave you there. But you didn’t dare.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, mother—”

“No, I think you should.” It didn’t seem that there was any arguing with her. You cursed her intentional meddling.

Charlie sighed, placing his hand over yours in a move of protection that surprised you. “I’ll be right back.” He stood up and left you at the table, his exasperation apparent. You watched him as he crossed the large dining room, threading through various guests as the stood around, sipping on the endless wine and talking about the latest gossip, sure that you were somewhere among it.

He approached a beautiful young woman who seemed all-too happy to see him, her hands going for his arms almost immediately.

“Mind your business,” his mother scolded.

You looked down immediately, caught watching their exchange. You bit your tongue, face burning with anger at her snapping at you. You were without support here. And with Charlie gone, you were fair game. You hadn’t asked for this, she had to know that. You expected more sympathy from her. But she wasn’t your mother. You had a feeling she’d have no trouble reminding you of that.

You looked down at the plate in front of you, taking small, measured bites. You knew everyone was watching your every move. Perhaps more so now that he was speaking with Rose, whoever she was to him. You had a feeling you knew. And so did they.

Dessert was served before you saw Charlie again. He returned to his seat, having missed most of his own wedding dinner talking things over with Rose, apparently.

“I see you saved some for me,” Charlie joked. You simply shrugged, picking at your own plate. “Hey, you don’t need to worry,” he promised. You still kept silent, not feeling reassured in the slightest.

Did he love her? Were you an inconvenience for the two of them?

“Want to get up, stretch your legs a bit? If you like to dance, there’s—”

“No,” you answered quickly. “I don’t like…dancing.”

He cautiously smiled. “Okay, so no dancing. That’s fine, maybe a walk through the hall, some fresh air?”

You weren’t done worrying about your situation, but being away from his mother might help. “Sure,” you agreed.

He helped you down from the slightly elevated seat and kept hold of you as he steered you around the edge of the room and out into the more quiet hallway.

*****

“The stars are bright tonight, the skies clear. Think it’s a sign, maybe?” He asked. You didn’t think it meant much of anything. “Or perhaps not…” he trailed off, looking to you for a response.

“I’m not sure,” you explained, staying mostly impartial though you didn’t think good weather was at all indicative of your future.

He waited for a moment, leaning against the stone balcony. “I could’ve had my pick of anyone in there, before this. I still could.” He turned towards you, a strange look on his face. You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but it didn’t seem good. “But you…I feel like…”

Before you could figure out what he was trying to say, someone walked out onto the balcony, a sense of urgency in their step. “Your parents are looking for you, sir.”

Charlie sighed. “Of course they are.”

*********

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, she’s been through enough,” Charlie whispered. His mother shrugged, giving him a cutting look. “Please just be gentle. It’s not going to be fun for her.”

“Are you saying you aren’t capable of cheering that poor girl up, Charles?” His father harassed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He was clearly a bit drunk, his wine spilling onto the stone floor. You grew warm at the suggestion anyway.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Charlie rolled his eyes. He turned his attention to you. “Please, just…ignore everyone.” You didn’t understand what he meant until his mother wrapped her hand around your upper arm and pulled you away from him.

“Charlie?” You were confused. He didn’t seem to want to stop it, instead following his father further away in the opposite direction. You were at his mother’s mercy. Many other women fell into step behind her and you were steered into a changing room, a good three minute journey from the main dining room.

Hands reached for the bindings of your dress immediately, and it all felt so harsh, indelicate. Humiliating.

“Please, don’t!” You begged. Your requests fell on deaf ears as the dress was removed and the corset unlaced. Once you were standing there in your chemise, shivering, the door in front of you was pushed open and you were forced inside. It took a moment for you to realize where you were.

A bedroom.

Everyone followed you in, and you grew mortified at the thought of them watching you. Charlie stepped in from the other side, his father and a few others close behind. He approached the side of the bed opposite you, and pulled down the covers. It took you a few seconds before you realized he was waiting for you to do the same.

You climbed in, having a little difficulty as the bed itself was so high. He pulled the covers back up over the two of you and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Alright, why don’t we leave the two of them to get on with it, eh?” His father announced. You wanted to bury your face in the covers out of embarrassment, but felt that you would only draw attention to yourself. “Get out,” he ordered. As everyone slowly filed out, Charlie’s father raised his glass in a toast before ensuring everyone else was gone and shutting the door behind him.

You spent a few seconds sitting there, absolutely still, unsure of what you were supposed to do now.

“I’m sorry about that, it’s tradition,” Charlie explained. He didn’t seem to know how to approach it either.

“It’s okay,” you conceded, pulling at the edges of the blanket. You were warm at least.

“If you don’t want to, we can figure it out—”

“No,” you answered. You knew it was expected. You knew the status of your relationship with Charlie would be closely monitored. “I just…I’m not sure what to do,” you confessed.

Cautious hands reached out for you and you were pulled in close. Your head instinctively went to his shoulder as he held you. “That’s quite alright. Don’t worry yourself. We’ll…get there.”

“Can we talk for a bit first?” you asked, enjoying using him as a pillow more than you expected.

“Of course.”

“What are your favorite things to do?” you had absolutely no clue what to really be asking him as you literally knew nothing about him.

He played with your fingers as he spoke. “Hmm,” he started. You could feel the rumble in his chest. It was soothing. “I study, stay up to date on the political situation…I practice archery if I have time to. With all the events I’m forced to attend, it’s not often. Besides those things, I read quite a bit.”

“What sorts of things do you read?” you asked, finding something the two of you had in common.

“You’ll laugh at me, and I’ve never told anyone else, but I really like reading romantic works,” he laughed. “It sounds strange, but there’s something about it. I understand the need for political arrangements like this, but…there should be happiness and love, too. Otherwise, what’s the point?” He met your eyes then, angling himself a bit so you were less on top of him and more beneath him, but he didn’t remove his arm from beneath your head. His free hand traced a gentle line down across your cheek.

You felt butterflies in a way you’d never felt before. You could see that he wasn’t pulling any sort of tricks, but you couldn’t explain the sudden urge to reach for him.

“And what sorts of things do you read, wife?” It was the first time he said it, and the reality of the situation felt heavy on you. Or was that him? You didn’t know for sure.

“H-Happiness,” you repeated, watching his eyes move down to your lips. Your nerves increased ten-fold. “And love,” you added, face growing warm as he didn’t let up.

“Hmm, and do you want those things?” he asked, getting closer.

“Yes,” you admitted. You didn’t explain how you feared those things would be out of reach now that you had been forced to marry under these circumstances. Because you weren’t as scared of that anymore. You felt like with enough time, the two of you might be okay with each other. Things hadn’t started with a salacious court affair or desperate sneaking around behind your father’s back, but there was an undeniable connection. An intensity in his gaze. And it wasn’t aimed at anyone else.

“Will you allow me time to give you those things?” he asked. His nose skimmed over your cheek, urging your face to tilt upwards a bit.

“Yes,” you mumbled, his lips already brushing over yours. It wasn’t a bad feeling. In fact, you moved up to try to capture his mouth as he lifted his head away. When you opened your eyes, feeling incredibly bashful, he was smiling.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded. You were brought back to the only other time you’d kissed him, in the cathedral, in front of all those people. Not as bad as you were expecting, and you felt your face get warm as you thought of how much you enjoyed it.

He leaned back down, this time not retreating as you moved up a little to meet him. His lips were soft, smooth, searching. He opened his mouth over yours and you did the same, face burning as you let out a quiet sound of pleasure. He didn’t stop, but you thought you could feel that he was smiling a little.

He shifted, putting more of his weight on you. He brought up a hand to hold the side of your face as he angled his head, his tongue sliding in. You felt ready to burst, feeling a million different things as he continued, finally pausing with his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip. He was just as out of breath as you were.

“Was that okay?” he whispered, eyes meeting yours. He looked almost blissful, his lips red and slightly swollen. You found yourself warming up to the idea of what was about to happen. Desiring his touch elsewhere, not knowing what to expect but wanting it all the same. A deeper impulse.

“Yes,” you answered, nodding, allowing yourself a small smile. He sat up, his weight gone from you for a moment as he pulled the thin white fabric off over his head. He set it on the floor and you finally got a good look at him.

You went hot all over as your eyes roamed across his torso, taking in the light layer of chest hair, and nicely toned shoulders and arms, as well as how broad he was. You caught yourself looking lower and averted your eyes once you heard him chuckling.

“It’s alright, love. We’re married. You are to know me as intimately as I am to know you.” His hands pulled at the thin material down near your legs, getting it up far enough for him to place his hands on the outsides of your thighs. You reached down, placing your hands over his as your stomach did a few somersaults in response to his touch. “Are you okay?” he asked, frowning.

“It’s just…nerves,” you confessed. “I’m sorry.” You lifted your hands, allowing him to continue.

“You don’t need to apologize. I want you to trust me. I know that’s a lot given the little bit of time we’ve had together, but I promise I don’t want to hurt you or turn you against me.” As he spoke, his hands moved higher and higher, revealing you to him inch by torturous inch. You didn’t know why but you felt a bit of shame, probably after spending your life being turned away from such things.

Still, he continued, and as his eyes traveled over you and his gaze softened, you felt more comfortable.

“You’re lovely,” he spoke quietly, meeting your eyes. “Nothing to worry about.” He waited as you sat up a little so he could pull the cloth over your head. He tossed it on the floor where his lay discarded, and leaned over you for another kiss.

His body offered searing heat and a tingling wherever his skin touched yours. He pulled the covers completely back before laying beside you, on his side, his hands gentle as he pulled you in closer. Kisses were lazy and comforting as you got used to his closeness, the contact.

You needed more.

“Open up for me, love,” he urged. You didn’t understand until he pressed a kiss to your cheek and picked up your outer leg. He smoothed his hand along it as he placed it over his side. He slid his hand up further, long fingers spread out as he reached your hip. He let his hand move underneath, and his fingers slid softly across your wet center, causing you to jolt upright in surprise at the strength of the sensation.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, fingers still feather-light over you. The shock transformed into a tremor low in your abdomen, and you found yourself angling towards his hand, seeking more of his touch.

“N-No,” you answered, breathless. He grinned, his touch a bit more firm, earning a gasp from you as you reached up and squeezed his shoulder in a vise.

“Do you like that?” he asked, leaning in and stealing a kiss from the corner of your open mouth. You could only nod. He moved lower and pressed his lips to your neck, the sensation forcing you to openly moan. You bit hard on your lip, trying to keep quiet. You found your own hands smoothing over his shoulders, up into his soft brown hair.

He lifted his head and studied you as he plunged a long finger into you. You clung to him tightly as you gasped, and once he saw you weren’t complaining, he added another.

Gentle kisses were pressed all over your face as you writhed in his grasp, surprised at how much he affected you. You were a hazy mess, responding with moans and gasps, unable to form words. You weren’t even thinking anymore, you were feeling and hearing and touching.

His hand disappeared and you felt yourself aching, needing him. He moved you onto your back and knelt upright between your legs. You risked a glance down and saw him preparing himself. You felt him pressing against you as he moved to cover you, distracting you with another firm kiss as he pushed inside. You struggled to acclimate yourself, a wave of sweat and unease washing over you as you squeezed your eyes shut. But it was all short lived, and soon his rhythmic thrusts brought you back to that mindless state.

You could hear him panting as he brought his hips down repeatedly, his eyebrows drawn in and tongue out in concentration, as if he were lining up a shot with a bow.

You certainly felt as dangerously taut as a bowstring.

You caught his eyes for a moment and he offered you a wink before squeezing his own eyes shut and rocking against you. You felt your face grow warm despite it all, charmed by him.

You had felt something building the entire time, from the moment he laid his hands on you, but you didn’t have any idea what the peak of it looked like. Felt like. Until it was crashing over you. The waves made their return, a physical sensation you’d never felt before. Nothing came close to it that you could think of in your entire existence. Surely you’d remember something like that.

You wondered how you could possibly compare your current situation to the plight of Andromeda. This was a thousand times better.

Your hands had tightened around his arms as you spasmed beneath him, and you looked up in apology once you realized it. He was watching you with a faraway look in his eyes, before his movements grew erratic and he gripped your hips just as tightly, keeping your bottom in place as he moaned and slowed his movements.

You could feel warmth filling you and you reached out, fingers grazing his abdomen which tightened and jumped in response. Just as you thought it was over, he thrust slowly and deeply a few times more, settling on top of you with an exhausted sigh.

You smoothed your hands up and over his back, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. You wondered if he could feel yours too. You felt tired and energized all at the same time, wanting to spend the next few hours gently running your fingers through his hair, soothing him to sleep.

You were sad about the how and the why that brought the two of you together, but you didn’t regret this, this new closeness and intimacy. You couldn’t guess what he was thinking about, but he hadn’t pushed you away yet.

“Was that okay?” he asked, his swollen lips pulling at your skin. “Are you okay?”

You smiled at him, knowing he couldn’t see it. “I am very much okay, Charlie.” He pressed a kiss into the skin above your heart, letting out a sigh as he settled back down.

“I’m your husband now,” he reminded you.

“Well, husband, I am completely spent. I could fall asleep just like this.”

“Stay here,” he ordered, sitting up and sliding out of you. He left you splayed out on the bed and soon returned with a soft cloth, soaked with warm water. He passed it along the inside of your legs, relieving you of sweat and whatever else had accumulated. He left for a moment and returned, his eyelids heavy. He looked like he could fall asleep at any moment. He bent down to retrieve the thin chemise, taking the time to fold it carefully and place it on the table near the side of the bed. He did the same with his own before getting back into bed and pulling the covers up over both of you.

You felt the need to redress. “Do we need to—”

“No. This is our bed, we wear what we like. Even if it’s just our skin. As long as that’s okay with you?” He pulled you in close, eyes searching yours in the dim lighting. You nodded, sighing as he kissed you softly before wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace.

You slept soundly, all through the night.

************

Some time later…

************

“Do you see them?” Charlie asked quietly, holding your shoulders. You scanned the open field, finally spotting a few round targets a good distance away.

“Are you sure anyone can hit those?” you asked, laughing. “They’re so far away!”

“You can do it, love. Trust me.” His hands adjusted your stance as you lifted the bow, drawing it back just as he’d taught you. “You’re a natural,” he commented, sounding a little surprised. You just beamed.

“Breathe,” he urged, cheek pressed to yours. You did. His beard scratched your cheek and you leaned into him further, seeking more of it. “Focus,” he scolded, a smile on his face. He pecked your cheek before guiding your grip on the bow, a decidedly intimate gesture as his face went a bit pink.

“There you go,” he urged, taking a step back. “Release when you’re ready.”

You did, hands staying in position for a moment after the arrow was loosed in the direction of the target. He watched, his hand blocking the sun from his eyes, tracing its arc as it fell faster and faster, finally getting stuck in one of the round targets and knocking it over.

You let out a yell and dropped the bow, running out across the field to inspect the damage. Charlie followed closely behind, laughter bubbling out of him as he watched you carrying your skirts to avoid stepping on them.

You reached the target first, turning it over in the grass and presenting it to Charlie, a grin on your face.

“See? I told you. Have a little faith,” he smiled, picking you up in his arms.

“Maybe I just have a good teacher,” you suggested, gloved hands on his cheeks.

“Maybe you do,” he agreed, setting you back on your feet and pulling you in for a deep kiss.

“Uh, sir, message for you.”  Charlie separated himself from you just enough to reach out for the letter.

“What is it?” you asked, trying to peek at it.

“We’ve been invited to a gala, thrown in your honor—”

You ripped the paper out of his hands, inspecting it, a bit surprised. “In my honor?!”

“What say you, my Queen?” he asked, taking the invitation back.

“If it’s for me, it would be negligent of me to not make an appearance, my King.”

“Extremely negligent,” he agreed.

“I’ll go only if you go with me,” you proposed. He pretended to think about it.

“Can you imagine if I let you go alone? The gossip. Of course I’m going with you.”

He held your face still and smiled down at you. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too.”

“See, happiness and love, we made it,” you grinned.

He smiled, bringing his forehead to yours. “We did.”

************

I assumed if you liked my earlier post that meant you’d want to be tagged, so I, uh…tagged you. Of course, if you don’t want to be tagged for this, I’m sorry? not exactly sure how to undo it now…

@amysnowflake92 @raewillmaketheflowersgrow @missredherring @fruehlings-gefuehl @lannew1 @rosewhitley274 @sansa-bird @somebrokeartstudent

Thanks for everyone’s patience. Seriously. I love all of you. Hope this isn’t terrible and if it is…well, nothing to do about it now!

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

I LOVE Stelena as well and don't have enough room here to explain why, but you covered it so beautifully in your post! I also loved the Juliet Burke gifset you just reblogged and would love to hear your brilliant analysis of her as well. She's a tough character for me to completely grasp! Also, do you ship her with Sawyer? Jack? Neither?!

Yay, you love Stelena too. They’re just amazing, aren’t they? I’m exactly the same as you and could speak forever about why I love them. It was so hard to keep my response in the previous ask so short, but I did my best haha. 

Ah, Juliet! I absolutely love Juliet and I ship her with Sawyer. Absolutely no hesitancy there. 

Honestly, I can see why some people might’ve found Juliet hard to grasp. I put it down to the fact that she’s introduced to us as an Other and therefore is essentially an antagonist. I also think that Elizabeth Mitchell was incredibly good at making Juliet appear mysterious and dark. I remember thinking in the beginning that she was nothing but a manipulator whose aim and job was to break Jack. I mean, that was true to an extent, but obviously as the episodes progess and we learn more about her back-story we discover there’s a lot more to it than that. 

How I’d describe Juliet is an incredibly compassionate, nurturing and loving person that was actually good right down to her core, but I feel like sometimes this gets lost on people. She struggled with intimacy and letting people get close to her as a result of her parents divorce (and the way her scumbag ex-husband treated her probably only added to that), but we saw how deeply and truly she loved with the select few that she did let into her heart. Her relationship with her sister was particularly touching. She was the one person she loved more than anything else in the world and everything she did on the island was because she so desperately wanted to get home to her. 

What I think is so often overlooked when it comes to Juliet is that she was a victim. She was cornered by Richard and essentially coerced into accepting a job they claimed would transform her life and her career, she was then drugged, transported to a mysterious island and once she was there held against her will. She was told she would only be there for 6 months and she expressed on numerous occasions that she wanted to leave (particularly when she found out her sister’s cancer had returned) but Ben wouldn’t let her leave. Because of his infatuation with her, which was completely one sided and unwanted by Juliet, he held her prisoner and kept her from getting the her sick sister. Ben emotionally blackmailed her, telling her if she stayed he would cure her sister’s cancer and let her go home, which meant she was essentially answerable to Ben at all times and forced to follow his orders, because she wanted to please him in the hopes that he would keep his promises.

That one line always sticks in my head where Jack says something like, “I saw it in your eyes. When that submarine blew up you were devastated. You want to get off this island as much as I do and that makes you one of us.” Juliet was never truly an Other, she was a prisoner of the island (and more specifically Ben) as much as Jack, Sawyer, Sayid, Kate, Jin, Sun and all of the others. 

Juliet at all times was driven by love and compassion. When she took the job on the island it was because she wanted to help people and save lives. She was told that women on the island were dying and she wanted to stop that from happening. She literally impregnated her sister whose reproductive system had been destroyed by chemotherapy, because what her sister wanted more than anything else in the world was a baby. She helped Sun when she was pregnant, saved Claire when she got sick, saved Jack’s life when he needed his appendix removed, she even helped try to save little Ben’s life, despite everything he’d done (or was going to do) to her. Likewise, when she manipulated Jack in the beginning it was because Ben told her if she did what he asked he’d let her go home to her sister and later when she went behind Ben’s back and asked Jack to let Ben die during the operation it was because she realised she couldn’t trust a word he said. The only way she could ensure she could return home to her sister was if Ben died. When Jack outed her plan to Ben and the others, she denied it because that was what anyone else in that situation would do. Ben was essentially a dictator and her captor who the hell would hold their hands up and admit they attempted treason against a dictator? She did what she had to survive. When she was branded a traitor for killing an Other, it was under Ben’s orders. Later, Ben ordered her to go undercover and mark the tents of the pregnant women and report back to him about issues regarding fertility, but she told Jack the truth about what Ben had planned and helped stop it. 

Now my reason for bringing up all of these instances is because her actions were all over the place in the beginning, which is probably why you struggled to grasp her character. One minute she wanted Ben dead, then she was helping him to survive, then she agreed to help Ben and go undercover, but she told Jack about Ben’s plans and it was hard to gage where her loyalties lay and what her motivations were. But actually, if you put yourself in her position, it’s very easy to understand. She knew Ben was a liar and manipulator and that she couldn’t trust his word. So when Jack came along she began to wonder if there was a different way and if by joining Jack and the islanders, she would actually finally be able to go back home. But she never quite knew what to do for the best. On the one hand, Jack blatantly seemed the better option, but on the other Juliet knew that Ben had the power to send her back home if he chose to (he had a submarine and boat at his beckon call) and she also knew that despite the fact he asserted his control over her, to an extent she also had control over him because of how he felt about her. Therefore, it was a risk to jump ship and betray and leave Ben and the Others to join Jack and the islanders, because it wasn’t a guarantee they could help her return home. She was torn and I think anyone in that position would be. Let’s also not forget that she did spend three years of her life with the Others and so to an extent she must’ve come to see them as her family and just walking away from them wasn’t going to be an easy decision. And honestly, I don’t think Juliet ever was one or the other - an islander or an Other. I think she understood both sides and although she disagreed with Ben and resented him for how he’d treated her, she knew that there were instances where he did things to protect the island and his people. 

But returning back to what I said about Juliet always being driven by love and compassion, she waited on the island when everyone was getting rescued because she wanted to make sure everyone else got to the boat first and she quite literally used the last bit of life she had in her to detonate the hydrogen bomb because she wanted to save everyone from the terrible fate they’d suffered and undo it all. She was all about saving, protecting and helping people regardless of who they were or what the circumstance. And obviously, that’s why she chose to work in medicine, because it’s where her passions lay and what she wanted to devote her life to. 

I think when she fell in love with Sawyer and joined the Dharma Initiative, things changed for her a lot. For one thing, her main concern was no longer to return home, because they were in the past and therefore there wasn’t really a life for her to return to and her sister either wouldn’t have been born yet or a very young child. And really that was the first time since being on the island where she was actually free and able to do what she wanted, which I think allowed her to blossom and devote more time to her work again and just live. Juliet and Sawyer mentioned so many times how resentful they were of the islanders returning, because up until that point they were happy. They built a life for themselves and despite the fact that to an extent they had to lie because of the circumstances, I think they really found a place they belonged and a home. When it comes to the final season, I think it really showed just how selfless and amazing Juliet was. Not only did she welcome the islanders back (despite deep down wishing they’d never returned), but she risked her safety and everything she and Sawyer had built over the three years to keep them safe. She was lovely to Kate, which let’s be honest, was a very strained relationship given the circumstances. So many people in that situation would’ve been resentful and bitter since Kate was the woman Sawyer had been in love with, but she never took that out on Kate. In fact, she never took it out on Sawyer either. When she thought Sawyer still loved Kate, she simply told Sawyer that she knew he loved her and she was willing to let him go. She loved him so much but she immediately was willing to walk away and let him go if it meant he was going to be happy. She detonated the bomb all because she wanted Sawyer to find his happiness and she didn’t care if that meant she may never see him again or even meet him. I mean, that really is the ultimate selfless sacrifice of love. 

Since I’m on the subject of Sawyer and Juliet, I might as well briefly talk about why I ship them. I think that Sawyer and Juliet as a pairing aren’t necessarily that popular amongst LOST fans, mostly because people claim it was too rushed due to the time jump. I do understand why some feel this way, because I’ve gotta admit that it’s not ideal when as a viewer we don’t get to see the full development of two characters falling in love and the process of them getting together. But with Sawyer and Juliet, I never felt like that was necessary. No, they weren’t together before season 5, but the signs were there and it was an inevitability. Juliet always seemed to be able to reach Sawyer and to pull him back, which was a very big deal when it came to Sawyer since there was very little that could restrain him and usually no one that could make him see reason. They watched everyone they knew and care about disappear before their eyes and they started to rely on each other as the time jumps were happening because they were all they had left. When Sawyer asked her to stay with him, it was so clear that they were going to fall in love. Why do we need to see it to believe it? I already saw it. 

The thing I love about Sawyer and Juliet is they were themselves with each other. Who Sawyer was in the early seasons wasn’t really him, it was who he’d become through the trauma of his parents death, need for vengeance that consumed him and selfish and cruel lifestyle he led. Sawyer isn’t even his name. It’s the name the man assumed that caused his parents deaths. And that’s one of my favourite things about Juliet and Sawyer - she never called him Sawyer. To Juliet he was always James (or Jim) and I think that’s such a beautiful thing. He wasn’t Sawyer the con man to her, he was just James. Sawyer became a real person when he was with Juliet. He was able to shed that cold, hard exterior and stop hiding behind a name that wasn’t even his that represented nothing but misery and everything he hated about himself and his life. That barrier when it came to love is something they both had and it all can be traced back to their childhood and parents, but they broke through it together. With Kate, Sawyer could never be himself and he could never truly let his walls down because she never fully committed to him and she was always torn between him and Jack. Where as with Juliet he felt safe and assured because she loved him and only him. It was a relationship between two people, not three and that’s what he needed and what a relationship should be. As for Juliet, her experiences with men up until that point had hardly been positive and I’m sure she was terrified of opening herself up to someone again but because she knew Sawyer was just as scared as she was it made it easier. And as she got to know James she saw that he was a loyal, honest and good man that would devote himself to her and he did. 

Much like Stelena were built upon the idea of two broken people healing each other, so were Sawyer and Juliet. Up until the point where they were together they were both up and down. Sawyer was always torn between being the bad guy and the good guy and Sawyer or James and Juliet was always torn between being an Other or an islander, between doing terrible things and whatever it took to leave the island or doing the right thing even if it may prevent her leaving the island. It’s only once they were together that both of them seemed to really settle down and feel comfortable in who they were. And again, just like Stefan and Elena, they were so much better people together. It was amazing to see how they navigated themselves within the Dharma Initiative and how moral and good they were. When they were having to lie to their friends and people about the islanders, they hated it, but knew it had to be done. They both worked to save Ben’s life and agreed on that without hesitation. Up until the issues arose in regards to Juliet thinking he still had feelings for Kate, they were very much in sync. They had the same opinions on things and believed in the same thing and I noticed a pattern of them always being concerned with doing what was right. And they inspired each other to do what was right. There were so many times where one of them was afraid or doubting themselves and the other would step in and remind them who they were and that they were capable. I’m not a fan of belittling another ship in favour of another ship, but I feel like in this instance a comparison is the most effective way of capturing my point, so I’m going to talk about Sawyer and Kate for a second. Kate could’ve never done for Sawyer what Juliet did for him. Juliet was Sawyer’s conscience, his voice of reason, she was the good in his life, she saw who he was down to his core and allowed him to be vulnerable, kind and soft in a safe, understanding and encouraging environment. Kate was always so unstable, never able to soothe Sawyer or console him, she was always distressing him, she was selfish with him and unable to listen to him or encourage him or have any sort of positive impact in his life and despite the fact that she was considered one of the only people to see the good in him, I actually always felt like she saw the bad in him. There were times when things happened and she immediately assumed Sawyer had done them when he was innocent and I think unlike Juliet who saw James the person, Kate saw Sawyer the conman. I said I would only briefly talk about why I like Sawyer and Juliet and as always this has turned into an essay lmao. So I’ll end it by saying, in season 6 when Sawyer and Juliet reunited in “purgatory” that just cemented for me that they were absolutely soul mates. It was by far one of the most beautiful and romantic scenes across the 6 seasons and there was something about James’ and Juliet’s souls that just got each other. I also love that theirs is that kind of love where you go, “Oh, that’s unexpected, I never would’ve put those two together”, but it just works so damn perfectly and you realise that actually these two people were exactly everything they’ve needed and wanted their entire lives. For me, Sawyer and Juliet are that couple. 

But back to Juliet as an individual character, I’d summarise her as a character that was so completely benevolent that she dedicated her life to saving others, helping bring life into the world and giving people the joy of having a child where it was supposed to be impossible; who loved with every ounce of her being and was fiercely loyal and devoted to those she loved to the point whereby she’d do anything for them, despite having instilled in her skepticism and fear of love because of her parents divorce; that was understanding, open, forgiving and kind to everyone, even those that didn’t deserve it; that was manipulated, blackmailed, controlled, held prisoner and put into a horrendous situation whereby her life was stolen from her; that sometimes made bad judgement calls or wrong decisions in an impossible situation where all she desired was to return home to her sick sister; that through everything always did what she felt was best and right. 

I hope that seeing Juliet through my POV helps you to get a better understanding of her character, because honestly she’s a gem of a character and I want anyone and everyone that has watched LOST to be able to fully appreciate her for that. 

And thank you so much for asking this. I love love love giving analysis’ like this on characters/ships I love.